#there's been some snow here but it's gone now. hope for more sometime soon. it's better than rain and slippery ice I tell you

[msmk11]

Maybe

Coriolanus Snow x fem!reader

WC: 1.3k

CW: Pregnancy, giving birth, Coryo being absent, some fluff, ANGST

Summary: You love your husband, but his growing inattentiveness becomes harder and harder to handle, especially with the arrival of your baby.

A/n: I don’t think I’ll ever have it it in me to write Coryo as perfect and sweet cuz he SUCKS. So you get a little fluff here, but a lot of angst still.

Day 8 of mk’s mad dash

The last certainty your husband offered you was on your wedding day when he said “I do.”

That was a year ago.

You knew he was busy. Coriolanus was rising through the ranks so rapidly you wouldn’t be surprised if he assumed the presidency within the next five years. Of course, you were proud of him. Not only was it your duty as his wife to wholeheartedly support him, you also truly, genuinely cared about his happiness and success. But as with everything, there was a cost. In your courtship, Coryo was so very attentive, loving, and dedicated to you. He made you feel special, and you had no trouble falling in love with him. But once he slipped that ring on your finger, all of it came to a halt. It’s not that he entirely ignored you- no, sometimes you saw the glimpses of your old Coryo when he was on top of you at night, or when you went to socialite parties- but you had often been left to fend for yourself this past year.

You absolutely tried to be understanding when your husband would remind you how busy he was, and how he was doing all this hard work for your happiness, but frankly, you missed him. And was it really so wrong for a wife to miss her husband?

Your loneliness and desire for your husband only worsened tenfold when you learned that you were with child. Coryo, of course, was thrilled that you sired an heir. But with him gone all day, and often at outings at night, you saw less and less of him as your pregnancy moved along. You went through your morning sickness alone, felt the first kick alone, learned the baby’s sex alone, and picked out the baby’s room decorations alone. You were desperately hopeful that the birth of your child, your son, would bring Coriolanus back into your arms, a paternal instinct drawing him into the realm of the domestic.

So when the day came that your water broke and contractions started, though you were overcome with anxiety about giving birth, the hope that fluttered in your chest for the return of your husband far superseded it.

You were out tending to the rose garden when it happened, your long, white flowy dress suddenly soaked. You calmly rushed inside to the phone and dialed Coriolanus’ office.

“Office of Coriolanus Snow, this is Lilith. How can I help you today?” A perky, feminine voice asked.

“Hi Lilith, this is Coriolanus’ wife. Can I please speak to him?” You said kindly as you rubbed soothing circles over your swollen stomach.

“Mr. Snow is very busy right now,” Lilith told you calmly, “can I take a message?”

“Lilith, please,” you answered a little more desperately, “this is an urgent call.”

You heard the clacking of her nails against the computer, “one moment.”

The line goes silent, and you know she’s stepped away to speak to your husband. Every second you had to wait to hear Coryo’s deep voice on the other end, the more anxious you began to feel. It was really starting to kick in- you were about to have a baby.

The line crackled and then, “Darling?”

“Coriolanus” you sighed, relieved.

“What’s wrong? I’m very busy here,” he told you seriously.

“The baby. He’s coming. My water just broke.”

Your husband inhaled sharply on the other side of the phone, “Oh, okay. Okay. Well, are you alright? How’re you feeling?”

You cupped your bump gently, “I’m okay right now, sweetheart. But I imagine contractions will start to kick in soon. Can you come home?”

And then, your voice slightly broke, “Please. I need you Coryo.”

“Yes, of course, darling. I’ll be home as soon as I call the doctor.”

“Okay, thank you,” you said, voice shaky.

You hung up the phone and took a deep breath. Everything was going to be okay.

*****

Pain. White hot, blinding pain consumed your body and you couldn’t stop the screams that were leaving your body. The doctor was saying something to you but you didn’t care. You just wanted it all to stop.

Tears were streaming down your face and you kept shaking your head, “I can’t, I can’t, I can’t.”

Suddenly, like an angel, Coriolanus was in your view, white light shining down on his blonde curls creating a halo. Your sobs quieted at his face.

“Coryo,” you hiccupped, “I can’t. I can’t do this.”

He placed his hand on your forehead, stroking your sweaty baby hairs away from your face, and your eyes fluttered shut at his touch.

“Darling, you can. I promise. You know why?”

You opened your eyes again and stared intently into his bright blue ones, “why?”

“Because you’re a Snow now. And Snows can do anything.”

“Snows can do anything,” you murmured.

Can. Coriolanus said can. The first firm answer from him in a year. If he could give you that, you could do this.

Your husband nodded at you, a soft smile on his face, “Good girl.”

He moved his hand from your forehead down to your hand and clasped it tightly. His encouragement is what allowed you to start pushing again.

As you pushed, your screams returned. But instead of hopeless, frail screams, they were determined and strong. Soon enough, smaller, whiny screams filled the air- your baby’s.

The doctor swooped the baby out from between your legs, “it’s a boy.”

Tears began to stream down your face again, but they were happy tears.

“Coryo, we have a baby,” you sobbed.

Your husband bent down and kissed your forehead tenderly, “well done, darling. Our very own baby boy.”

“Mr. Snow, the umbilical cord.”

Coriolanus stood and gave your hand one more squeeze before walking over to your baby. With slightly shaking hands he cut the cord, and then your baby boy was placed gently into his arms. He walked over to you, the softest look on his face.

“He’s here,” Coriolanus said, placing the baby into your arms.

Your son was the most beautiful thing you’d ever seen, and your heart swelled as you quickly noticed some of Coryo’s features and your own on the face of your son.

“He’s perfect.”

*****

After everything had settled and the doctor left, it was just you and your perfect little family cradled together in the master bedroom of your home. Your baby boy sat cooing in your arms, swaddled in a soft blue blanket, while Coriolanus sat behind you, arm around your shoulders and head peering over you to stare at him.

“We make a pretty good baby, Coryo,” you told your husband softly.

“Mhmm, that we do.”

You leaned into his touch as your husband began to run soothing strokes up and down your side. If everything could stay just like this, you would be perfectly happy. You’d never ask for anything else in your life.

“Sweetheart,” you implore softly.

“Yes, darling?”

“Do you think you’ll be able to take some time off work, to be with me and the baby?”

His hand on your side stilled and he inhaled sharply, “darling.”

You turned to look at him, big eyes soft and pleading, “Coryo, please. The baby needs his father.”

You paused.

“And I need my husband.”

Coriolanus hesitated, and you wished you could tell what was going on in that always-running brain of his.

“Maybe, darling.”

Maybe.

The death and birth of hope.

It wasn’t a no- the word so ingrained in your brain that you saw it seared on the back of your eyelids. And in that, there was hope. Hope that you’d get your husband back. That you’d get to be a mother alongside him as a father. That everything could be the way it used to.

But maybe wasn’t a yes either. One too many times now you’d gotten your hopes up when Coryo responded to one of your requests with a maybe.

Well maybe you didn’t like his answer.

Maybe you didn’t like feeling abandoned or alone.

Maybe.

But instead, all you said was, “okay.”

[billthedrake]

THE AD AND SON (PART TWO)

It was the third day at the cabin and uncharacteristically, Brian woke up before his dad.

He slipped out of bed and found some sweats to put on. He'd hoped to spend the week in the cabin without putting on clothes, but the air was nippy this morning.

As he stepped into the living room he could see why. Outside the plate glass window a foot and a half of snow blanketed the ground.

Brian took a minute to enjoy the serenity of the view then went to make coffee, mostly for his father, though he'd been drinking it more the last month, trying to make himself like it. Partly because he felt it was the grown-up thing to do, and partly because it was something his father enjoyed.

Brian wasn't good at cooking, and his dad usually made anything more complicated in the Casey home. But Brian could do breakfast and he proceeded to cook some bacon and get the eggs ready.

His dad had an eager look on his face as he stepped in, wearing his university sweatshirt and some pajama pants. "Man, this is a treat," he said, taking the coffee mug from Brian's hands. "How long you been up?"

"About a half hour," Brian said. "Looks like we got a snow storm last night."

Dan padded over to the window and looked out. "Well, I'll be." He looked over at Brian. "Hope you're not hoping to go anywhere any time soon."

"We're trapped here?" Brian asked, a little concern in his voice.

"Trapped's a strong word. But it'll take a few days for the snow to melt enough to be passable. Still not wishing you'd gone to the Caribbean instead?" he laughed.

Brian plated breakfast for the two of them and came to sit at the counter next to his dad. "Eat up old man. We're going out and playing in the snow after breakfast."

"Is that right?" Dan smirked, stuffing a piece of bacon in his mouth.

"Yes, sir."

That's what they did. They geared up with thermal shirts and wool socks and hats and gloves and trudged out into the fluffy white snow.

"It's all fine powder. Shouldn't take long to melt once the sun comes out," Dan said.

Brian reached down and gathered up some of the snow. "Damn, won't make a snowball."

"And who the hell you think you're going to be throwing snowballs at?" Dan chided playfully.

"Christ, Dad, where's your sense of fun?"

Dan's eyebrow raised up. "I'll show you, you little fuck," he growled and charged toward Brian, knocking him back into the soft powder. His muscular body landed on him with an oof!

Brian got over his surprise and started giggling, like a kid almost, and Dan started, too.

"No fair," Brian laughed.

"Who said I was fair?" Dan said with a triumphant look on his face. Damn, his son could make him feel twenty years younger.

Just then Brian craned his face up and met his father in a kiss. Dan's body froze stiff, surprised by the action.

"Come on, Dad," Brian said softly. "No one out here but us. Let loose a little."

Dan nodded and now initiated their kiss. It was liberating as hell, making out with Brian out here in the open air. And Brian was on the same wavelength, he could tell responding to his kiss eagerly.

"You're one hell of a kid, you know that?" Dan said. Finally he stood up and offered his hand to help Brian up. "Come on," he urged.

Instead Brian ignored his father's outstretched hand and sat up, reaching out to the button on the man's jeans.

"Jesus, Brian!" Dan gasped.

"What part of letting loose do you not understand, Dad," Brian asked in a challenging tone.

He had to admit the kiss and now Brian's actions were making Dan erect as he could remember. The air felt cool on his cock once Brian freed it but it wasn't exposed for long. His son swallowed it and started blowing him, right there in the open.

When it came to blowjobs, Dan preferred to give rather than receive. Part of it was Brian's inexperience. But mostly it was just the way the father was wired. He never came quickly getting head and sometimes he didn't come that way at all. Meanwhile, the feel of a hard cock in his mouth and of cum gushing down his throat was the biggest turn on.

Only now, Brian's mouth was bringing him off. Maybe it was the naughtiness of the situation. Maybe his son's cocksucking skills had gotten better. But Dan Casey was gonna cum right into his boy's throat.

"Oh Bri, Oh fuck, I'm there, son." With that he gripped Brian's head and fired his semen in a sweet wave of release.

He barely regained his senses as he watched Brian spit out a health gob of his father's semen in to his hand and reach down to smear it on his own exposed hardon. Excitedly he stood up. "Think you can stay hard, Dad?" he asked. Brian was clearly eager to get off himself.

Dan nodded. No way was his cock going down now. He watched dumbly as Brian shucked his jeans down his thighs and turned around. Those amazing butt cheeks were displayed once more.

"Put it in me sir," Brian ordered.

His son's hole was still damp with lube from their fuck the night before and it took Dan only a few seconds to work his way inside.

"Oh yeah," Brian hissed. "I think your load is still in me."

It was. Dan could feel the semen deposit on his cock as he fucked Brian in this standing position. It was cold out but their connection felt hot. After a few strokes he felt his boy's ass constrict tightly against his rod. Brian was surprisingly nonverbal as he came, just grunting as his cum shot out into the snow.

They uncoupled carefully, and each man pulled up their briefs and jeans. Dan now met Brian in a kiss. "Thanks for getting me out of my shell. That was hot."

"It was." He gave his dad another quick kiss. "Ready to go back in sir?"

Dan could tell Brian was starting to feel cold. He nodded and wrapped his arm around his son's shoulder as they walked back to the cabin. "Maybe we can play in the snow more later," Dan said hopefully.

"Yeah," Brian replied.

Dan let Brian shower first, to clean off and warm up. His son looked much happier as he stepped out into the living room in his sweats. "Your turn."

The two spent the afternoon reading. Dan was reading one of the spy novels he liked reading when he had free time. Brian was studying for his accounting class.

The afternoon was going by and Brian closed his computer, stretching his body on the sofa. Dan set down his book. "Done studying?"

Brian nodded and reached down to cup his crotch. "Too horny for accounting," he grinned.

Dan slid over and removed Brian's hand so he could see the erection forming in the jock's sweatpants. "That's probably something I can help you with," the man grinned.

"No, that's definitely something you can help with," Brian countered and pulled down his elastic band, showing off the sizable boner.

"Fuck, that's beautiful, son," Dan sighed as he stroked it up and down.

Brian smirked. Something about his dad's excitement over his cock gave the 19-year old confidence. Made him cocky even.

"You know what's even more beautiful?" he asked.

"What's that?" Dan asked looking up to meet his son's gaze.

"Your mouth around it."

Dan growled at the suggestion and hunkered down between Brian's strong legs.

Brian hissed an exhale of air as his dad took the cock into his mouth. "Aw yeah, that's it sir. Go down on me, Dad. Further. Swallow your boy's cock."

Dan did, excitedly. He'd learned to suppress his gag reflex and now could deep throat Brian's decently large size without issue. And he could give long strokes with his mouth and throat, up and down, in almost a milking action.

Thankfully Brian had held off on his initial impulse to cum and was riding out the sensations. Their sex in the morning had taken the edge off and the men could both enjoy a nice, slow suck session now.

Dan took the time to build Brian up then hold him off, licking the nuts and kissing the insides of Brian's thighs while the young man looked eagerly on his father.

About twenty minutes into the blow job, Brian came, almost suddenly in fact, shooting hard and heavy into Dan's hoovering mouth.

The father was all smiles as he pulled back. "Whoa, stud... I think that was a record."

Brian nodded, smiling himself. "Yeah, I'd say so. Fuck, that was incredible, Dad."

Dan had a proud look on his face as he leaned back on his haunches. "I think we earned ourselves a beer before dinner. What do you say?"

The men watched some weather on the TV and some Sports Center while they had their beers and relaxed.

The sun was setting as Dan got up to start on dinner.

After they ate, Dan had an impish grin. "Feel like going out into the snow again?"

Brian smiled. "I think someone liked being a little kid again," he teased.

Dan shrugged. "Truth be told, I liked being with you out in the open. Kissing you like that." He blushed a little. "I'd like to blow you out there this time."

Brian chuckled. Sometimes he thought he was the one with the bigger sex drive but his father was a horndog, too.

Dan tried to read his expression. "Or do you need more time to recover?"

Brian shook his head no. "Oh, I'm good for it, Dad. Fuck, let's do this."

They were giddy as they put on their warm clothes, which had dried off since the morning.

They stepped out into the snow, which came up to their knees as they trudged on. They walked down toward the lake. There was some dim moonlight out to light the way.

"Think anyone else is staying near the lake?" Brian asked as they came to a spot with a good view.

"Doubt it," Dan said. "If so, they surely can't see us." With that he stepped up to Brian and kissed him softly. His son returned the embrace, holding onto his dad tightly.

"I like this," the younger man said. "A lot."

"Me, too," Dan said, kissing his boy with more passion now. Finally he leaned back. "I believe I promised my son a blow job."

Brian nodded excitedly and gulped as his father squatted down in the snow. It was a real trip getting serviced like this out in the open. They were probably out of sightline for anyone but the idea that they weren't thrilled Brian, who grew harder inside his dad's bobbing mouth. Maybe he had a bigger exhibition streak than he realized.

Dan was able to take his time on Brian's dick, knowing his son's hair trigger probably wasn't going to be an issue so soon after the last blowjob.

But finally Brian felt himself getting close and he pushed his dad's shoulders to ease him off. "I don't want to come yet, Dad," he said. "Let me do you for a bit."

They traded positions and Dan exhilarated once more in the sensation of his only son blowing him. Brian was definitely getting better at this he decided. His son treated him to a few minutes of head before backing off.

"Turn around, Dad," he ordered in a husky tone.

Dan felt nervous about what his son was asking but he was also turned on. It took a little maneuvering with the depth of snow, but he turned to face away from Brian. Then he felt his boy's strong hands on his hairy ass, kneading the muscle.

"My old man's got a hell of an ass on him," Brian growled, slipping his fingers deeper into the crack.

"Bri, buddy..." he started. "I should let you know..."

"What Dad?" he asked, kissing the left ass cheek then the right.

"I've... I've never been fucked."

He could feel Brian freeze behind him. "For real, Dad?"

"Fraid so, son. I'm not sure I'm ready..." he started to say, but Brian interrupted.

"It's OK Dad."

Dan relaxed then felt his son's face nestle in his crack. He wasn't going to, was he? Sure enough, Dan felt Brian's tongue snake forward and start licking Dan's hole.

Of all his 46 years, Dan Casey had never been rimmed. The idea had even been a little repulsive to him, either giving or receiving. But here was Brian opening him up to the experience. The first licks shocked him and made his body shake but then Dan decided it felt good. Better than good. Brian's asseating had him hard a rock and dripping too. And his boy's actions were getting more confident, his tongue swipes deeper.

"That's it, boy. Eat your daddy's hole," he growled, no longer concerned someone would hear. The night was otherwise still and quiet.

Brian ate him out excitedly. He'd seen this in porn videos and had been eager to try it out for real. Finally he had to take a breath.

"Goddamn, Dad. You got an amazing ass." His fingers explored his father's brawny butt before diving in to munch some more.

"Bri... son.... let's take this inside OK?"

Brian was all smiles as he stood up and tucked his hard cock back in his pants.

They kissed and Dan thought he'd be repulsed by the muskiness he could smell on his son's face, but the scent was a faint trace and not bad at all. It turned Dan on even, kissing the mouth that had just made out with his hole.

The two weren't in a hurry and Dan got off seeing the knowing smirk on Brian's face as they walked back to the cabin.

"You liked it," Brian said.

"I won't lie to you, son," Dan admitted. "I didn't think I was going to either."

"I'm going to eat your hole more tonight."

Dan loved take-charge Brian, he decided. "Is that right?" he teased.

"Yes, sir," the teen smiled, hands in his coat as he hopped in the heavy snow. "I can't believe I waited so long to do that."

"I can't believe my own son just gave me my first rim job," Dan growled.

Brian smiled. "No way! Hot."

They kicked off their boots inside and shed their coats. As they stripped they both had boners. "Feel like warming up in the shower?" Dan asked.

"Yeah," Brian said. "You can go first if you want."

"I got a better idea. We can go at the same time," Dan smiled.

It was an intimate experience showering for the first time together. They used the occasion to explore each other's bodies. And Brian hunched down to eat Dan out some more under the shower spray. The father braced his strong body against the tile and let his boy treat him to a range of amazing sensations.

Finally they turned off the water and toweled off.

They walked back into the bedroom and Brian pulled down the covers. "Get on all fours, Dad," he instructed.

Dan felt weird following orders like this but he did as asked. And was rewarded as Brian returned to rimming his hole.

This was so taboo and nasty, and Dan loved it. Brian seemed to get off on it even more, his young dick erect and reddened with excitement.

Finally Brian pulled back and spit on his father's pucker and pushed a finger inside.

"Oooh!" Dan hissed.

"Too much, sir?" Brian asked.

"I'm good kiddo."

Brian reached over for the lube and applied to his fingers. Now two were pushing in. His father was tight as hell all right but the man seemed to be taking it OK.

"I'd never do anything you didn't want me to, sir," Brian said. "But damn, I want inside you so bad."

It was time, Dan decided. He'd been hesitant to let another man inside him like this, but if there was anyone deserving, it was Brian.

"Go for it, kiddo," he said. "Only we're doing it face to face."

"Yes, sir," Brian answered, skewering his finger's into his dad's hole, which was starting to give a little though was still snug. "Another finger first?" he asked. His father didn't object so Brian gently pushed a third finger inside.

"Easy there, son," Dan hissed, but he lay his head forward and let Brian gently wiggle more inside. His hole felt full, very full now, but it wasn't hurting. And the more Brian twisted his fingers around the more he got used to it.

Pretty soon Bri was able to pushing his digits in and out, literally doing a finger fuck motion.

"OK, Dad," he said. "Flip over."

Dan was hard and excited but nervous. But his son's kiss felt good and he loved the sensation of his built young man on top of him. Thrusting that erect son cock against his own.

The boy hoisted his legs up and nudged forward. Somehow Brian had lubed his cock and it felt slick as it bore inside. A sharp sting travelled through Dan's body. "Oh!" he yelped.

Brian held steady. "Sorry, Dad," he said with concern.

"Give me a second," Dan pleaded.

Brian nodded, patient. "Remember what you said when you took my cherry? That it would hurt at first but it'd get better quickly?"

Dan felt emotional at those words. His own words tossed back at him. "If I'd known how you felt, son..." he joked.

"You would have still fucked me," Brian countered. "You were right Dad, it starts to feel great. If you let it."

Dan nodded and decided he'd do this for his boy. Brian pushed in and was soon buried inside. Dan felt full and more than a little uncomfortable. But the sting was gone. Then another thrust. And another.

Only Dan saw his son's expression change. "You gonna cum son?"

Brian tried to hold it off but he gave a little nod as he started to come inside his dad. "Oh fuck! Oh wow!" he sighed as he came off his orgasm and started resuming his thrusts.

It turned Dan on. The knowledge that he had his son's seed buried inside him. The idea that his stud of a son was going for seconds, just like that. The idea that Brian had so confidently taken his cherry.

It made the older man hard and his insides turn to pure pleasure. "Oh, fuck. Fuck me Brian!"

"Yeah Dad!" the boy exclaimed, thrilled his dad was getting into it.

"Fuck your daddy. Fuck my hole. That cock's so good. Harder, son!"

Brian really started fucking now. His dad was on the same wavelength, thrilled at the first experience bottoming. As Brian fucked, Dan stroked and his whole body grew hot and tingly.

"Gonna cum son."

"Come on my cock, Dad. Your own son fucking you, sir."

That did it. The taboo tripped Dan's wires and he was firing off all over his chest, just seconds before Brian began his second ejaculation deep in his guts.

After cumming the sensation felt uncomfortable once more and Dan urged Brian to pull out.

"You OK, sir?" his son asked, concerned.

"More than OK," Dan grinned. "Jesus, my boy can fuck."

Brian had a proud look on his face. "You inspire me, sir."

"Inspired two healthy loads from you," Dan teased, reaching down to touch his no-longer virgin hole. It was wet with lube and Brian's seed.

"I don't think I've ever been so turned on in my life," the young man observed. "Please tell me that wasn't the last time."

"That wasn't the last time," Dan muttered as he met Brian for a kiss. He lay back on the bed and caught his breath. "Fuck. 46 and learning new tricks."

Brian lay down beside him. "Wasn't sure how you'd feel about having the tables turned."

"Mentally I'm still processing it," Dan said. "But physically... well, that was intense. I don't think I've come harder in my life."

"That's all the processing you need, Dad. Don't overthink it."

Maybe that's what he'd been doing this whole time with Brian. Overthinking it. Or swinging from not thinking to overthinking, and back. A happy medium would be nice.

"I love you, son. Very much." There, it wasn't so hard.

"God, Dad, you know I'm crazy about you, right?"

They kissed and Dan cracked wise. "I dunno. I thought maybe you were just a horny kid."

"Oh I am. But, Dad.... you're overthinking it."

[cosmicjoke]

Winter

Winters in the Underground are bleak.

It’s the drafts, Furlan knows, coming in through the holes in the caverns roof, the ice melt which sinks down through the sewer grates, and flurries of fat, freezing flakes of snow. There is no sun to melt it as it carries on the strange currents of wind which suck down like a vortex into the open space, blowing endlessly through the dark tunnels of their world.

Isabel hates it. Complains constantly about how cold it is, shivering and shaking as she tries in vain to warm herself by their pitiful firepit.

Levi bears it like he bears everything. In silence, grim faced and unreadable.

Though, sometimes, Furlan catches the tremble in his small hands.

This year is worse than usual.

There’s a famine up above, apparently. No rain during this last spring resulting in fields of dead crops.

It’s well hard enough getting food down here, even when things up top are thriving.

But people struggling for food on the surface meant people starving to death in the Underground.

It’s been hard for everyone, even the three of them, who usually did a descent enough job staying afloat, thanks, mainly, to Levi.

But these last, few weeks, they’ve had to take to scrounging through the gutters in hopes of finding some tossed out and molding piece of bread, or wilting, days old vegetables, just to get by.

There’s no food. The merchants from the surface willing to come here, few and far between as they are, have all packed up their stalls and left, and whoever’s left has nothing to sell at all, stands left bare and empty, their owners gone and out of sight.

Levi had managed to hit one of the fleeing merchants about a month back now and steal a sizable sack of dried goods from him, and they’d been living off that ever since. But, between the three of them, even with Levi skipping meals and leaving the bulk to Furlan and Isabel, much to their dismay and protests, they’d finally bled the haul dry, and now they had nothing.

Each new day was weighted with uncertainty, then, as to whether they would eat or not.

They all knew what starvation felt like. They’d all been through it.

That didn’t make bearing it any easier.

It didn’t make the pain, or the fear, go away.

And the cold was only making things so much worse.

It was fucking freezing, even holed up in their little space as they were, clinging to each other for what little warmth they could share. Levi has his arms around both of them, drawing them against his sides as they hunch with their heads together in front of their meager fire, and Furlan can feel Levi shaking just as violently as he and Isabel.

Through the thin material of Levi’s shirt, Furlan can feel his ribs and the ridges of his spine. He’s lost a lot of weight, from skipping so many meals these last weeks.

“… I’m gonna’ die, ain’t I?” Isabel’s voice breaks the pressing silence, dried and cracked and barely more than a whisper.

Furlan feels Levi stiffen.

“Don’t be talkin’ like that.” He scolds her, his own voice barely seeming stronger. “You ain’t gonna’ die.”

“… B-but I’m so hungry, B-Big Bro, and… and I’m cold. Oh, God…”

“I know. But ya ain’t gonna’ die, Izzy. I wouldn’t let that happen. Alright? You trust me, don’t ‘cha?”

“Y-yeah Big Bro. Yeah…”

Levi’s arms squeeze tighter around them, and the room goes silent again, but for the pops and crackles of the fire.

Furlan squeezes his eyes tight and bites the inside of his cheek ‘till he tastes blood.

He knows Levi means it. He means it when he says he isn’t gonna’ let them die. Knows Levi would give his last damned breath to keep both him and Isabel going. But… strong as Levi is, it doesn’t amount to much when there just isn’t any food to be had.

Shit… they might have to resort to trying to catch rats soon, if things don’t improve.

Furlan doesn’t think Levi would eat a rat. He doesn’t think Levi could bear it, twitchy as he is about disease and filth and the like.

Something to do with his mother, Furlan thinks, who Levi told him died from disease when he’d been a child. He hadn’t said more than that; Levi rarely spoke about himself at all. But Furlan can guess at the ugliness of the thing.

“… I’ll go out and look for somethin’ to eat. You two stay here.” Levi says after a while, and he starts to stand.

Furlan is slow to react, his energy sapped almost to nothing, and it takes too long for Levi’s words to process. By the time they do, Levi is already wrapping his cloak around his shoulders.

“Levi, wait…” he starts to protest, beginning to stand. “you can’t go out there now. It’s too cold. You’ll…”

“Stay here Furlan. You and Izzy keep holdin’ each other, try to stay warm. I’ll be back soon as I can.”

“Levi, please, you could die out there…”

Levi just shakes his head, starting for the door.

“I’ll be alright. I’m strong Furlan. You know that.”

“Y-yeah, but…”

“I’ll be fine. Stay with Izzy. Don’t leave. Don’t come after me neither. Alright? I’ll be back, soon as I can.”

Before Furlan can lodge any more protests, Levi is gone, the shabby wooden door creaking shut behind him, and Furlan feels what’s left of his energy drain outta him as he sinks back to the floor. Isabel throws her arms around him, burying her face against his shoulder.

“H-he’ll be alright, won’t he Furlan? Big Bro’s the strongest, s-so he’ll be alright. Yeah?”

Furlan puts his arm around her, laying his cheek to the crown of her head and holding her tight against his side.

“… Yeah.” He promises, and wishes he felt as confident as he forces himself to sound. “He’ll be alright.”

//

Levi doesn’t come back ‘till almost four hours have gone by. Isabel had fallen asleep, somehow, and Furlan had been grateful for it, because he’d been starting to grow sick with worry, more and more convinced with each second that past that something horrible had happened to Levi.

He didn’t know what they would do if something happened to Levi.

He didn’t know how they would survive.

But then Levi walks in through the door, carrying a heavy looking sack over his shoulder.

Furlan stands immediately from where he’s still sat by the dwindling fire, stumbling forward a step, before coming to a halt partway, eyes wide.

Levi’s got blood on his face, a thick smear of it coated across his brow, over his eyes, running from what Furlan can see is a large gash, just a little above his left temple. Gaze dropping to his hands, and Furlan sees Levi’s cut up and already swelling knuckles.

He’s been in a fight, then. A bad one, from the looks of it.

Furlan can’t help the words which spring unbidden to his tongue, a tight, sick knot in his gut.

“What happened?”

Levi looks dolefully back at him, silent.

It wasn’t that Furlan was surprised.

Levi was rough stock. He came from some kind of hardship extreme even from down in this place, and for a long time, violence was his only friend. The only thing he could depend on to make it from day to day. Furlan knows that. He knows. Even though Levi rarely spoke about his life before he met him, or Isabel. You could hardly miss the scars littering the kid’s hands, or all over his body. Knife fights, long, gnarled ropes of raised, white skin, some clean and straight, some jagged and twisted, like whoever’d done the cutting meant to make it ugly as possible. There were starburst shaped patterns of raw, too smooth skin on his chest, parallel in place on his back, and Furlan knew those to be entry and exit wounds from bullets.

Yeah, Levi was rough stock, and he’d made his way before mostly through fighting.

That was the thing down here, in this place. Predators picked off the weakest looking prey, and Levi was small. Just a tiny kid. The top of his head barely reached to Furlan’s chin. Hell, Furlan knows, when he’d first seen Levi, he’d thought like everyone else. Short, scrawny looking kid, should be an easy mark, even though, by then, there’d started to be talk of a scrappy little midget who could take down men twice, three times his size, even. And like everyone else, Furlan had wanted to see if the rumors were true.

Well… Levi was rough stock. He was fucking terrifying. Stronger than any man Furlan had ever seen. He’d felt it, one time. How strong Levi really was. One time, when a guy from a rival gang had come charging at Furlan, ready to sink his knife into his back, and Levi had caught Furlan by the arm and jerked him outta the way before it could happen. In his panic, Levi’d grabbed him hard, harder than he’d meant to, Furlan knows, and the power in his hands, in his grip, had stolen the breath right outta his lungs. He could break bones with his bare hands. Furlan knew it then sure as he knows his own name. And then that’s what he did. He took hold of the man who’d tried to put a knife in Furlan’s back, and he’s crushed his hand. Mangled it, ‘till he couldn’t hold a knife, or any other kind of weapon, ever again.

You didn’t fuck with Levi.

That’s what kept Furlan and Isabel safe. Because everyone knew. You try anything with them, and it was Levi you’d bring down on your own head. And you didn’t fuck with Levi.

Unless you were the MP’s. They fucked with Levi all the time, ‘cause they fucked with everyone, down here, and ‘cause they knew Levi wasn’t fool enough to kill no government workers. That’d draw attention. That’d get people from up above involved. And Levi was always telling him and Isabel, it was best not to get people from up above involved, ‘cause they had money, and money gave ‘em power, and they could take everything from them. Levi was always saying. They could take everything.

Furlan’s eyes catch on the sack over Levi’s shoulder. It’s one of those stitched potato sacks, starched white, and printed out in bold, black letters across the front, are the words “Government Property”.

Well, shit…

“Levi… what happened?” Furlan asks again.

Levi slides the sack down, lying it gentle onto the floor.

He doesn’t say anything as he kneels down on one knee, starts undoing the tie round the bags end.

“Levi… did you kill military police?” And even as the words leave him, Furlan feels a dizzying horror in his head, threatening to black out his vision. If Levi killed police, then…

“… I didn’t kill ‘em. Just roughed a couple up. They ain’t dead. Just socked ‘em, some.”

“Levi…”

“They did me first. I… I tried talkin’ to ‘em Furlan. You know how I ain’t good with no words. But I tried talkin’. I told ‘em I could do stuff for ‘em, if they was willin’ to spare some ‘a their food. They got… all this food, Furlan. More ‘an they need. It ain’t fair. It ain’t right, down here, what you got people starvin’ to death, droppin’ dead in the streets from starvin’, and cold. I told ‘em Fur… I said…”

“Levi, alright. It’s alright.” Furlan says, keeping his voice even and level.

Levi got like this, sometimes. He got emotional, like this. He kept himself so even keeled most of the time. Was most of the time so reserved. He only got worked up like this when he was real upset about something.

Levi sniffs, wipes the back of his hand against his nose, and keeps working at the bags tie. He gets it open after a minute, and starts pulling what Furlan can see are dried goods, mostly. Crackers, standard military rations, some cans of beans. Stuff like that.

Levi’s hands are shaking.

“… What did you tell ‘em you could do for them, Levi?” Furlan asks, even though he doesn’t want to.

Again, Levi says nothing, just keeps pulling the goods from the bag.

There’s a lot.

Enough to last ‘em several weeks, Furlan thinks.

Their lives are saved.

“Levi, you didn’t…”

“I said, ‘cause, like… you know.” Levi cuts him off. “I said I could do ‘em some jobs. If they needed anything, like… like, I could steal stuff for ‘em, or what. You know how good I am at that stuff Furlan. You know, ‘cause I’m small. I can sneak into any place. You know it, right?”

Furlan nods.

“Sure do, Levi.”

“Well, but then they got to laughin’ at me. And one of ‘em says, he says, what I could do for him is suck his dick, ‘cause I’m… ‘cause he says, I’m the perfect height for it. And they were laughin’ at me Furlan. And I got mad. So I beat ‘em up, and took a bag. They got dozens ‘a bags, Furlan. They won’t miss just the one.”

“… Okay.”

“They were laughin’ at me Furlan. They… they used to laugh at Mama like that. I remember. They used to laugh at her just like that. I got mad.”

“Okay.” Furlan feels his heart sink.

“But I didn’t kill ‘em. I just socked ‘em good.”

“… What happened to your head?” Furlan tries, and Levi blinks at him.

Furlan points to his own head, near his temple, and he sees understanding come into Levi’s eyes.

“… Yeah. I socked the one who said about my height, and the other one came in and hit me with his billy. Caught me good too. I almost went down.”

“God, Levi…”

Levi shakes his head.

“But I kept my feet. Kenny says to me, you gotta’ keep your feet, no matter. No matter what they hit you with. So I kept my feet, and I socked him too. I just knocked ‘em cold Furlan. I didn’t kill ‘em, so you don’t gotta’ worry none about that. Don’t worry none. Only, maybe we’ll have to move soon, in case anyone comes sniffin’ around. Them MP’s don’t like to be stolen from. You ask me, they’re the ones stealin’. There’s people starvin’ to death in the street, Furlan. There’s little babies dead out there in the cold.”

“I know, Levi.”

Levi looks at him, and his eyes are, for a moment, so damned hurt, that Furlan has to look away.

Fuck…

“Well, I gives some ‘a what I stole to some poor lady, ‘cause she had a baby, Furlan. I lied, before. I’m sorry. I took more than one bag. I… I took a couple. And I gives one to some poor lady. Don’t be mad, Fur. We gotta’ eat. You know that. We gotta’ eat.”

“I ain’t mad Levi. God, I ain’t mad at ya.”

And he isn’t. He can’t be.

Fuck, Levi just had too much feeling in his heart, and Furlan couldn’t ever be mad at him for that.

It got sometimes so he could hardly stand to look though, for all the hurt Levi had in him. All the hurt he had for everyone else.

People didn’t know, ‘cause Levi was rough stock, and he grew up learning to keep it all in, pressed down so nobody could use it against him. He kept it all in, usually. But when he got like this, there it was, plain as anything, all that feeling and hurt he carried around inside him for everyone else, and sometimes Furlan could hardly stand to look.

He couldn’t imagine what that felt like, to be carrying around all that hurt, keeping it all inside like that.

“… Yeah? Well, alright then.” Levi says and starts up emptying the sack again.

“Say, Levi, that can wait ‘till later. I should clean up that gash you got on your temple. Okay? Fix up your hands too.”

Levi keeps unpacking the canned goods for a moment, before he stops, rubbing at his nose again.

“… Okay.” He finally agrees, and Furlan feels an almost dizzying relief.

He has Levi sit down along the bench in what they’ve designated the living area of their small hovel, and tells him he’ll be right back, going to fetch a bowl of water and some clean rags.

They’d filled a couple wooden buckets with water a few days ago, when the ice stopping up the well a little ways from their place had final broken enough apart, but they were gonna’ have to get more soon. Assuming the well hadn’t frozen over again. It probably had. Furlan tries not to think about it. Getting drinkable water down here was almost as hard as getting food, now.

He sees Levi’s removed his cloak, finally, as he makes his way back towards him, and he’s got his arms crossed against his chest, his hands stuck in the pits of his arms. He’s shivering, and Furlan knows he must be freezing, though Levi won’t ever complain about it.

Furlan knows better than to make a fuss about it either. Levi never liked anybody fussing over him.

Instead, Furlan just takes a seat across from him and sets to work, cleaning his wounds.

The gash along his temple is pretty bad. Might even need stitches, Furlan thinks, frowning to himself. He tells Levi as much, and Levi huffs, but doesn’t otherwise protest as Furlan gets up to set the bowl of water to boiling over the fire and fetch a needle to sterilize. He needs to add some kindling to the fire to make it hot enough, and Isabel tosses and turns in her sleep, mumbling incoherently to herself, dreaming.

“She alright?” Levi asks as Furlan comes back.

Furlan shrugs.

“Sure. Good as she can be, I suppose. She’ll be happy to see you’ve got us food.”

“… Yeah.” Levi says, and goes quiet again.

Furlan doesn’t say much as he sets to cleaning and stitching Levi’s wound, good as he can, and Levi doesn’t complain, sitting stiff and still, mouth pulled tight at the corners.

“Hands.” Furlan orders after, and Levi dutifully holds them out for him.

There’s scar tissue all over Levi’s knuckles, the skin split and bleeding now. It must hurt, but Levi gives no indication of it as Furlan works, trying to be gentle as he can.

“Alright.” Furlan says when he finishes, letting Levi’s hands go.

“Thanks, Fur.”

Furlan smiles tightly back.

“No problem.”

Furlan packs the materials away, leaving the used rags in the bowl of water to soak for a bit. He’ll have to clean them later, or Levi will get upset.

Levi busies himself by storing away the food items he’d nabbed, and there’s a heavy, comfortable silence which falls over the place.

Furlan wants to ask Levi if he really thinks they’ll have to move again soon, but he knows Levi will let him and Isabel know if they do. If he’s anything, he’s cautious, and keeps his eyes open and ear to the ground. He’ll know if their spot’s been compromised.

Furlan rummages around in their pile of wood bits they’ve been collecting for kindling, throwing a few more pieces on the fire, stocking it and building the flames back up.

“Levi, you should rest.” He calls to the smaller man after a while, watching Levi move restlessly about the space. He’s got his duster out, aimlessly waving it at different surfaces. Even from half the room away, his face looks gaunt, pale and too thin. The circles under his eyes are like dark bruises. He must be exhausted.

Levi stops, but he doesn’t turn to face Furlan, just stands there, staring at the ground.

“Come on, Levi. You can lay by the fire, try to warm up a little. You need rest.”

“… Okay.” Levi at last relents, placing the duster down and making his way to where Furlan and Isabel are lying together. Furlan scoots some to the side and holds his arm out, inviting, as Levi settles down, nestling against him.

They’re quiet for a while, and Furlan stares absently at the ceiling above them as Levi turns, pressing his face against his shoulder.

There’s a thousand and one things Furlan thinks he wants to say to Levi. He wants to beg him to stop doing this. Going out and putting himself in so much danger like that. He wants to thank Levi for it, for taking care of him and Isabel, even at the expense of himself. Wants to find a way to show Levi how much he appreciates it, how grateful he is. Wants to understand why it is Levi seems to care so little about himself in turn. Why he… treats himself like a tool to be used, instead of a person who matters.

Maybe it’s his fault, Furlan thinks dismally. Maybe, because when he first met Levi, that’s all Furlan saw him as too. A tool. Somebody he wanted, so he could use him to move up in the Underground gangs. Somebody who’s strength he coveted.

He was still using Levi for that, in a way. Even though Levi was their de facto leader, he let Furlan make all the plans, let Furlan, ultimately, call all the shots. He didn’t have to. If Levi wanted, he could rule their gang with an iron fist, and there wasn’t anything Furlan, or anybody else, could do about it. But Levi only ever leant his strength to make Furlan’s plans reality, only ever did all the hard stuff, the dangerous stuff, and Furlan let him.

He thinks he shouldn’t.

But he does, and he knows it’s because it’s comfortable for him, this way. Because he’s too selfish to try and change their setup. Because his plans, he knows, wouldn’t even be possible if he didn’t have Levi backing him up.

So he says nothing now, just curls his arms tighter round Levi and Isabel both, lets the silence settle over them as the night deepens outside.

[anxietysslave]

Ranting; A bittersweet goodbye

So starting this off, I think I'm going to start a ranting side of Tumbler as well as the stories. Sometimes sharing thoughts and feelings out into the open can help others, or can help me because people might be able to explain or just conversation. So here's one thought that's been in my head. I think the hardest thing for me to accept is death itself. Or even goodbyes. How do you say goodbye? How do you let those memories go? Recently, a YouTuber I grew up with known as Game Theory retired. Like everyone else, he’s not safe from the decay of time. Or wanting things to go back to how they were. He wanted to settle down and live with his family in the present, rather than through a camera. Which I understand completely. But at the same time… It hurts. I grew up with him. He was someone I looked up to for a long time, along with other YouTubers. And now… He’s going to be just a memory. It’s a bittersweet feeling, isn’t it? It makes me happy seeing them live their lives, but also sad because it means any memories I had are over now. A good start with a bitter-sweet ending. Some say one door closes, and another opens. But where do those doors lead to? It’s not going to be the first childhood idol I’m going to have to say goodbye to. Soon it’ll be the ones I’ve known even longer since I was 5 or 6. The feeling of getting home from school, putting YouTube on, and watching them play old crappy games of the 2000s was such a nice feeling. It brought comfort, joy, and so much more. I still get that, although it does not feel as cloudly, or hazy as it used to. And now, as the days go by, I get older. And they get way older. Someday instead of mourning their channel loss, it’ll be their death. And that’s a hard pill to swallow. These people have never met me, and never will probably. But they’ve all been such a big inspiration to me. They’ve molded who I am today and changed me for the better. At least I hope so.

When school gets tough, or when I’m struggling, their videos help me calm down. Their videos still bring me a sense of peace, even though it may not be as strong as when I was a kid. And I believe a lot of people feel that way. These days are scary, colder, and just so much more different than what anyone is used too. So of course, just like everything around us and ourselves, they change with time. People like to think it’s them that caused it, but it never was. We grew up, our eyes forcibly opened by many factors. And even those who haven’t, they’ve changed a lot since they were a kid. A lot of people say they never do, but all it takes is a look at a picture. Anytime I see photos of me when I was younger, I see a few similar things. But that’s it. My eyes look different, my smile, my hair, my physical appearance, how I present myself, everything has changed. Which is probably why these goodbyes hurt more. I try to go into denial as a coping mechanism. I deny they’re gone; I deny I won’t see them again, I pretend one day I’ll go on YouTube and there’s a new video uploaded an hour ago. But deep down, I know it isn’t going to happen. It’s crazy how YouTube became my coping mechanism in a way. I turned to people like Game Theory or Jacksepticeye, Markiplier, Dantdm, and even more. They have no idea who I am or anything about me. But it feels like they’re almost a parental figure to me. That sounds weird, but I have no other way to put it. So when you say goodbye to them, it hurts more than ever. Because I see them as someone close to me. Maybe it’s a bad thing, maybe it’s not. I can’t say. Human emotions, human thoughts, they’re all so complex. Even for me to understand. I can’t explain anything about why I feel how I do. I’m not a doctor. I’m no neuroscientist. I’m someone who just tries their best to get to where they want to be in life. To learn to find joy in small things like the wind, the cold or warm breeze in the air, the white snow that falls on the ground, and even something as bad as the natural disasters that harm us. I’m not a genius or anything of that sort. And even they can’t explain the reason we feel sad, or why we form connections to people we’ve never met or animals. The only thing we all have are estimations. There are no true or false answers. And who knows, maybe one day a goodbye won’t feel so bittersweet, or maybe I can come to terms with the fact that those who pass on are no longer here with us on this earth. That’s weird, isn’t it? I understand death, but at the same time, emotionally I don’t understand it. My brain can’t seem to grasp or doesn’t want to grasp the fact that someone’s gone. That I can never see them again. And although the Game Theory creators, Mat and Steph are not dead, it hits that way to me. In a way at least. 

I just wish them well in their next chapter. This ones come to an end, and all the fans can agree that it's been an amazing and long one. So many times everyone would debate these theories or help look for evidence. Others would argue about whether it's right or wrong, and then a lot of the time Mat would be proven right. I wonder, what journey will we all take next? What will be the start of our new chapters as we enter 2024?

Requests and other related stuff: https://www.tumblr.com/anxietysslave/708212002841083904/masterlist?source=share

[00katrinka00]

Decades Challenge 1890s Update #2

After the Alden's had gone home Josephine decided to get a head start on her chores. At the top of her list, was attending to her nephew, Kenneth. "Alright little one," she began to say. "Aunty Josephine is here, and it looks like it's time for your bedtime."

"Aunty!" Kenneth exclaimed, ignoring the bedtime part.

Josephine picked Kenneth up and he wasn't too happy after realizing that Josephine was serious about the bedtime part. "Not like bed," Kennth grumbled.

"You have to keep your energy up so we can play lots of games tomorrow," Josephine assured him.

"No need bed," Kenneth muttered, but he was already beginning to fall asleep on Josephine's shoulder.

"Here's a story about the princess Josie," Josehine began to read Kenneth to sleep. "Once upon a time Josie's father, king Thomas, passed away and she was banished from the kingdom of San Myshuno, and forced to move in with her evil older brother Nathanial. Now Nathanial did not respect her father's wishes to keep princess Josie in school. King Thomas believed education was a virtue and everyone deserved to have equal opportunities to learn regardless of the sex one is born with."

Josephine didn't get much further into the story before Kenneth was fast asleep, she sighed, "I guess we shall continue the story tomorrow."

The following morning Josephine decided to get an early start, which meant she was up even before the sun. Josephine hoped that if she started early enough in the day with her chores, that maybe, just maybe she'd have a bit of free time to read or do a bit of exploring outside.

After getting changed, Josephine headed downstairs to start making breakfast. She'd never actually cooked anything before, her father had a cook hired to make their meals. Josephine wondered why Daniel did not have a cook, he had taken over their father's business, and their father had left them each half of his money. Of course, Josephine couldn't access her half of the inheritance until she was married, a stipulation set by their father, but surely Daniel had received his by now. It was more than enough money for Daniel to buy his family a nice house, and hire a cook, and also maybe a tutor so Josephine could continue with her studies. Where the money had gone was beyond Josephine.

Josephine's mind continued to wonder, that is until the smell of burning eggs wafted up from the pan and into her nostrils. Josephine quickly tried to scrape the burnt eggs from the pan, with no success. "I guess we'll be eating a burnt meal this morning," Josephine sighed to herself.

When breakfast was ready, Josephine brought Kenneth down to eat. "Ready to eat some tasty eggs and toast?" Josehine asked.

"Food!" Kenneth exclaimed as Josephine lowered him into his highchair.

"I'm impressed you've decided to get a head start on chores this morning, sister," Daniel noted. "I am, however, more than disappointed with this meal, the eggs are burnt."

"I've never cooked anything before," Josephine said sheepishly as she brought a plate over for Kenneth.

"It isn't difficult," Daniel scoffed. "Do better, Josephine."

Soon, Daniel was off to work, and Josephine no longer had to deal with his snide remarks about how much he disliked her cooking. "I've brought your blocks outside," Josephine began to tell Kennth. "I thought you could play while I work on some of the outside chores."

"Side!" Kenneth seemed unable to contain his excitement about getting to go outside.

"Let me just finish the dishes first," Josephine told him. Sometime while Josephine was washing dishes, her sister-in-law, Cynthia, came downstairs and began a knitting project. Josephine knew the doctors had advised her to take it easy the remainder of her pregnancy, so she left Cynthia alone.

Even though the snow had melted, and Spring was officially here, it was still quite frigid out, so Josephine made sure to put her jacket on before heading outside. On the back doorstep she noticed a book had been left there.

After setting Kenneth down, and bundling him up in his own winter jacket, Josephine picked the book up. There was a note attached.

Dear Josie,

I have recently read this book on the discovery of a bacillus - a rod shaped bacteria- that is believed to be the cause of typhoid. I found the contents of this book quite intriguing, as I myself wish to study medicine at the university of Britchester. I hope you find it just as educational as I have. I am looking forward to hearing your thoughts.

-Theo

Josephine couldn't contain her excitement. Daniel may be preventing her from getting a tutor, but that doesn't mean that Josephine cannot teach herself about science and mathematics. She was beyond grateful to Mr. Alden for sharing this book with her.

As much as Josephine wanted to sit down and start reading immediately, there were still chores that needed to get done. Kenneth got busy stacking his blocks, and Josephine called the chickens out for their own breakfast. Afterwards she got started on some laundry. Even though Josephine wasn't too keen on doing housework, she was still happy to be spending some time outside. As she was hanging laundry, Josephine heard Kenneth cry out in frustration.

Josephine soon discovered that Kenneth was 'all blocked out' and a little tired, so she brought him in for his afternoon nap. She decided against reading him more of Princess Jose's story, as she had a book of her own, she was eager to begin reading.

Josephine quickly made herself a ham and cheese sandwich for lunch. Afterwards she tried to think up any more chores she had to finish before it came time to wake Kenneth up and get started on supper, but she couldn't come up with anything. A wave of excitement coursed through Josephine, and she rushed outside to begin reading for a few hours.

Josephine allowed two hours to pass before deciding to head inside and get started cooking dinner. This time she managed to not get distracted and burn the grilled cheese, which happened to be the only other thing Josephine even slightly knew how to make.

Cynthia, who had just woken up from a nap of her own, brought Kenneth down to eat. "I was just about to bring him down," Josephine told her sister-in-law.

"Nonsense," Cynthia assured her. "I was on my way down anyways. The food smells good."

"Thank you," Josephine smiled to herself.

"Mama!" Kenneth launched into an incoherent fit of babbles directed at Cynthia. Josephine guessed he was trying to tell her about his day, he seemed excited to be seeing just a bit of his mother.

"That all sounds so fun," Cynthia said to Kenneth, he nodded eagerly.

After supper Josephine cleaned up and then brought Kenneth up to bed. She decided to continue with her story about Princess Josie.

"Now, banished from the kingdom, Princess Josie must find a way to live in harmony with her evil brother Nathaniel who threatens to destroy princess Josie's happiness, he didn't even like the eggs and toast she made for him; however, there is one silver lining for princess Josie and that happens to be Sir Theodore who is the only person princess Josie has met, since her father King Thomas, who seems to respect her as an intellectual," Kenneth fell asleep.

After reading Kenneth to sleep, Josephine decided to read for a little before bed. Time seemed to slip away from her though, because before Josephine knew, it was past midnight, and she was on the verge of becoming a little smelly. After taking a bath, Josephine had a hard time staying awake, but she did manage to make it back to her room, and into bed without passing out from exhaustion.

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

That's all for update #2! I'm eager to hear everyone's thoughts, so feel free to do whatever you do on Tumblr (I'm not too familiar with this website yet), or just let me know on Twitter.

Also, Josephine was living in San Myshuno before coming to Willow Creek. I want to just mention that in my game San Myshuno is the equivalent of New York, so think of New York in the 1890s. Josephine and Daniel's father was also the owner of a publishing company - Williams and Co - but more on that in future updates.

Also, the discovery of the bacteria that causes Typhoid was a real scientific discovery made in the 1880s. I'm still imagining that all the discoveries made in real life during that time period were also made in my sims game during the time periods I'm playing in. It's actually kind of interesting to read about some of that stuff.

[capsensislagamoprh]

Yuri is tired. There is fighting again. He can sense the tension in the air, and while he'd say it fuels him, the truth is, it scares him more than a summer storm. He's small, and easy to over look. He uses this to stay perfectly still in his bed, hoping, praying the screaming will stop. That this time there will be quiet sobs instead of echoing sounds. There is a cracking sound that shakes his door. He should hide.

He stays where he is. He will be brave. The door shakes again and again, then stops. There is the sound of breaking. There is the sound of screams. There is the sound of sobbing.

The next day he opens his door to see the large crack running down is surface. His мать sits alone on a couch, face streaked with salt as she holds a glass of burning drink, cigarette in hand. She catches sight of him, sniffs, and rises. Something in her eyes is not right. Another 'отец' gone?

мать has had a hard time, he knows, since his father went away. It wasn't his fault, he knows, his отец just had to go. It was his time, or something. But мать has never been the same.

дедушка comes to get him again. Its for a week this time. When he returns there is a new door, and a new man. Yuri wonders how long til this one breaks his mother's heart again. She's not got much more love to give. He can see it. At her edges, she is becoming sharp, and bitter, and grey.

He looks at дедушка and wonders what keeps him going. His light is a soft radiance, an aura of calm that flashes rainbow lights when something particular catches his memory. Sometimes he thinks he can see that in his мать. When she looks at old photos, or sits on the edge of her bed, peering into a jewelry box saying nothing.

Sometimes she goes out to parties, or events. Sometimes she comes home happy and he is happy. Sometimes she comes back with new lovers. Ones who lie. He can hear it. It hurts her heart, which means she can hear it too. And then they leave. They give so many excuses. The one he hears most often is that they are not ready to be a parent. They were only here for a short time, some fun.

It angers Yuri. His материнский heart is turning cold, hard. Soon there will be nothing but stone. No one can love with a heart made of grey, cold stone. Not even those who don't lie to them. Sometimes Yuri thinks he can hear music when he thinks about this. It slows to a grinding halt. Sometimes, when he's really quiet, he thinks he can hear the sound of someone grinding at the stone, trying to unstick it. Sometimes he thinks he's holding a blow torch made of his own breath, trying to warm it.

The next time it happens his дедушка and wonders about several things. Grandpa was a soldier, and he works hard, and he's seen things. This is very comforting. He doesn't sugar coat, even if he doesn't answer everything. Yuri is a boy, so it's okay for him not to know everything right now, he says. But Yuri notices things.

There is less food at home than at дедушкин. There are fewer items. As they get broke, they are not replaced until дедушка comes to fix them. His материнский smiles become grim lines. His clothes don't seem to fit for longer. His smiles begin to fade until one day he looks his мать dead in the eye and asks why she puts up with this revolving line of useless men who take and never give.

She says she didn't mean to hit him. She was just so mad. She says she'll never do it again. She says she's sorry. Дед doesn't give her a second chance. As the door closes on the apartment, he feels that stone feeling take place in his heart, so he partitions it. He wont become hard like her. He wont let himself get caught in a rotating string of people not worthy of him.

That week Дед takes him to the lake in the field. It's shallow and frozen over, but it's good for some skating, and that's a nice activity they can both do. Дед used to do this as a small boy himself, he says. He and his friends used to throw snow balls and skate and then race around the neighbor hood making the most out of nothing on days like these.

Yuri feels the ice give way to his movements like it's trying to resist his very existence. It's in a battle for its very life and Yuri is here to kill it. Yuri looks at the ice as he makes clumsy strokes against it with dull blades. Yuri understand it. He's in a battle for his life too, now that it was taken away from him.

Дед calls to him, asking him to come towards дедушкин hands carefully. The ice is dangerous. The ice wants him to fall, fail. His mother wanted to feel alive. So dose he. To do so, he cannot fail. He'll so the ice. He will cut it and he will win.

This time when life throws stones, it will be the one with the busted lip.

part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6, part 7, part 8, part 9, part 10, part 11, part 12, part 13, part 14, part 15

[chaoswithinharmony]

Heyyyyyy

I'm so sorry I haven't been very active for awhile. Life has been quite hectic, especially these past few months. I miss hanging out and chatting about sw and obikin.

Just, man, it's been hard to be social, and balance my social life both online and offline. And once you break that balance, it feels hard to go back to finding that flow again. You feel me?

Like you take a break from social media, but then when you try to come back, it's just hard coming back at all once with as much full activity and excitement as you used to. So I guess I will take it a little easy, step by step.

I also feel like I've been spending a little too much time in other fandoms recently. Like, it's been hard to focus on more than 1-2 franchises at a time. But MAN, now I really, really miss Star Wars, and miss talking with friends about it.

But you have to start somewhere, I think.

So... any theories about the upcoming Kenobi series? And read any lovely obikin fics recently?~

Oh! Btw, some time ago, I also bought an R2D2 backpack, and it's shaped like Artoo, too! I've had to modify it a little bit tho, adding more stuffing to it, making it more "firm", and re-doing some of the stitches, as it wasn't in the most top quality when I bought it, even though it was completely new. I will share a photo once I am finished sewing on it. Also adding some cute keychains/charms on the straps, for a more personal look. (And to carry around a backpack of multifandom goodness. 💯)

Well, I will have more time once my winter break arrives on December 23rd, and will have a quite chill time till a few days after new year, so hope finding more energy and motivation during that time. Also again, oh my, I've really, really missed reading some sweet obikin angst.

[intplayboy]

YA'ABURNEE DRABBLE [HYBRID! BTS OT7 X HUMAN! READER]

if you would like to be part of the tag list, please complete the form.

summary: sneak peek of hyrbid ot7 x human reader "ya'aburnee" imagine (coming soon). The boys are patiently yet eagerly waiting for you at home, knowing you had another action-packed day, and can't wait to smother you and make sure you safely return home. But come to find out that you are injured at the front door in the arms of your older colleague, and to make matters worse, how and why you were injured. (Y/N *reader* is a bit stubborn here lol)

genre: hybrid au | minor angst | fluff | slight humor

pairing: hybrid bts ot7 × human officer reader (mackenzie valley wolf! namjoon, giant cheetah! jin, snow leopard! yoongi, wolverine! hoseok, kodiak bear! taehyung, maned wolf! jimin, golden jackal! jungkook)

warnings: mentions of injury

word count: 3,988 (kind of got carried away)

masterpost | pt. 1

copyright © 2022 by kumiko. all rights reserved. my works or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without express written permission from me except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

"Chin, I'm really fine." You try to convince your platonic older brother when he finally stops in front of your apartment complex.

In disbelief, he scoffs. "Y/N, you went into an extraction mission alone, completely outnumbered, and as a result, you were nearly killed."

"Okay, technically I didn't go alone. I had Kono on standby, ready to call backup if anything went sideways." You argued.

He deadpans at you. "Yeah, exactly, stand by. While you went in to save Steve by yourself."

"What were you thinking?!"

You sigh, looking away. "Getting McGarrett back... They were going to torture him further if I haven't broken him out, and it was my fault anyways!"

"You could've called me or Danny- or better yet, all of us to help you! You shouldn't have gone by yourself Y/N, you could've died!"

"They could've killed McGarrett if I haven't got there! And they weren't going to kill me, I had it under control... kind of." You mumbled the last part.

Chin exhales deeply. "You're lucky Kono called us in time and not having been far from your location."

You hesitated, realizing he was correct. You were a bit foolish to go on your now not-so-secret rescue mission into enemy territory without the proper support and guns. But they had to realize that you were growing impatient and that every second and minute that passed without getting any closer to saving Steve meant losing him to you bit by bit, something you couldn't have. You knew they wanted him back as much as you did, but with your worst fears overwhelming you, you made the impulsive choice to get McGarrett, leaving yourself exposed.

"Look, I know you want to protect all of us and do everything you can to help us when we're in trouble, but you need to understand that you can't do it all on your own. Sometimes you simply have to accept that some things aren't meant to be done alone; you need people, a team, and a family, and that's what we're here for. Second, you can't blame yourself for something beyond your control. You can't shield everyone from danger as much as you want because it can and will happen, either way. It will be difficult, but you have to accept it." He explains tenderly, looking at you with gentle eyes.

You trail your eyes up at him. "I know... I'm sorry, Chin..."

"Thank you for being there for me when I needed it."

He softly smiles. "Of course, you know I love you, right?"

"I know, I love you too." You nod returning the smile.

"Ohana mau loa." [Hawaiian Translation: Family forever]

"Ohana mau loa." You whispered as Chin pulled your foreheads together.

You stay together for a few more seconds until Chin separates. "Well, I hope you're ready for when you enter your apartment."

"Why would I need to be prepared?" Your brow furrows.

"Oh, you don't know? You'll see what I mean." He says this with a sly smile as he gets out of the car and walks up to your side.

He swings open your door and puts his arm under your armpits, hoisting you out of the car. "I can walk up to my door, thank you very much."

"Oh really?" He raises his brows. "Okay, fine, try taking another step without me."

He lets you go, and you try to regain your balance while hobbling with your sprained left ankle and clutching your aching side. You take another stride, certain that you can walk on your own, only to stumble and nearly fall, but quickly recover stability by gripping Chin's car.

From behind you, you could feel his smug grin. And when you slowly turn to face him, you scowl at the mocking expression on his face.

"Say it." His obnoxious smirk never faltered.

You continue to glare at him. "I need your help to get to the door..."

His smile widens. "What's the magic word?"

"What are you, five?" You squint at him.

"Actually, thirty-four. Twelve years older than you, so show some respect and say it." He replies.

You snort. "Old man. But a brain of a child."

"Oh, so you want me to leave you here. Fine by me." He takes a step back to the driver's seat.

"No-! Wait!" You briefly grumble under your breath. "Can you please take me up to my door?"

"Now was that so hard?" He then approaches you, throwing your arm across his shoulders.

"Shut up."

Despite Chin's persistence to assist you to your apartment door, you did your best to lessen the weight and carry your own instead.

"You realize that the whole point of me helping you is to relieve you of the burden of doing all of the work yourself. Yet, you keep at it. He calls you out.

You drew your lips into a line. "I know... It's a habit, you know I'm not used to this."

"Yeah, but why don't you try to break that habit, like I said, you have people who care about you for a reason." He reminds you.

You nod. "I'll try."

Fortunately, your apartment building had elevators, so getting you to the third floor wasn't too problematic. Chin leads you two down the balcony, passing several of your neighbors' doors, to your front door.

You and Chin both notice the lights still on from the windows as you reach your apartment entrance. "Why are they still up? It's half past eleven."

Chin chuckles. "You're really asking that?"

You scrunch your brows. "Yes? Is that wrong?"

"Oh, dear Y/N, you have so much to learn, you're so oblivious." He laughs.

You grimace at his taunts. "What are you talking about? No, I'm not. And what are you doing?"

You interrupt Chin as he has his fist raised against the door. "What does it look like I'm doing? I'm going to knock on the door."

"I have the key."

"You're not going to walk in by yourself, also it's better this way." He says.

"What do you mean 'better this way'? You don't have to bother them, Chin."

"Trust me, Y/N. They'd want to come to the front door for this." His mischievous smile returns.

You narrow your eyes. "I don't like this."

He ignores you and proceeds to noisily bang on your front door, making you cringe. "Did you have to knock that loud? They're hybrids, they have heightened hearing."

"You never know." He sings songs cheekily, causing you to roll your eyes.

And within just two minutes the door opens, revealing a particularly happy bear-hybrid.

"Hey, what time is it? It's pretty late, isn't Y/N supposed to be home now?" Jimin peeks into the living room where Namjoon, Jungkook, and Taehyung sat on the long couch.

Jimin pouted as all three of the hybrids shrugged in response to their mate's question. He then enters the kitchen, where the three oldest were, Jin and Hoseok busy cleaning dishes, and Yoongi is seated at the island dining table, where all eight plates full of food were becoming colder by the minute, concentrating on his cell phone doing knows what.

"Does anyone realize how late it is now? Y/N isn't home yet." If you were there, you could have heard the pout in Jimin's words.

Upon hearing the maned wolf hybrid's voice, the three oldest turn their heads. "It is kind of late, it's already eleven-thirty."

"And the food is cold." Yoongi says, almost monotonously.

Jimin whines. "I miss her already. She should be home now, what if something happened to her? She did mention she had an important case today."

Hoseok's ears flatten; the wolverine hybrid was terrified of being hurt, or worse, having anyone close to him hurt. Being trapped in the fighting ring for so many years had its toll on him; he was never really a fighter in the first place, but rather a lover, as the saying goes.

"D-don't say that. I-I'm sure Y/N's okay. She was most likely caught up with paperwork at their office." He reassures Jimin, but if he were being truly honest, he mostly just meant to comfort himself more as the idea of it scares him.

"I'm sorry Hobi-hyung, you're probably right, I'm just overreacting." Jimin's face softens.

"Would you guys feel better if we called her?" Jin proposed, and Hoseok and Jimin nodded in agreement.

Jin shifts his gaze to Yoongi, who is still clutching his phone, almost as if he's talking to him telepathically to make the call. But before Yoongi could place his finger on your contact, a loud knock echoed throughout the apartment, alerting all seven hybrids.

Their ears twitch at the sudden sound, and all three of them hurry out of the kitchen to the living room, where Namjoon, Jungkook, and Taehyung were still sitting, albeit with puzzled expressions.

"Is that Y/N at the door? Doesn't she usually have the keys?" Jungkook questions.

"Yeah, she does. Taehyung, could you open the door?" Namjoon responds, and Taehyung rises from the couch and walks up to the front door.

His nose twitches slightly as he picks up your faint scent, confirming that you're behind the door. He then grips the knob, with his boxy smile across his face, swinging the door open.

But the moment he sets his gaze on you, his smile fades almost instantly. It takes him a brief second, but he notices your bruised face and slouched posture against your male colleague. And, although he could detect your scent, he could also sense the overpowering scent of the man who was so so close to you. He tries to suppress the urge to growl in his throat, making a silent decision to scent you later on.

"Hey, Tae." You croaked, flashing a lopsided smile.

"Y/N..." He stutters at your appearance.

"May we come in?" Chin stares between you two.

Taehyung snaps out of his daze and walks aside. "Y-yes, of course."

Chin assists you in entering your apartment, as Taehyung watches you limping against the older man. A joyful voice greets you as soon as you come into view of the last six hybrids in the living room. "Y/N! I was beginning to worry that you—"

The cheerfulness vanished as soon as they laid eyes on you, causing him to frown along with the others; this doesn't go missed by you. "Hey, guys..."

"Y/N, what happened?" Jimin approaches you with worried eyes.

You beam him the smile that they all adore, unknowingly leaving a blooming feeling in all of their hearts. "Nothing wrong, Chimmy, I'm okay."

Chin rolls his eyes at your remark. "And by 'I'm okay,' she means a sprained ankle, fractured ribs, and a minor stab wound in the gut."

You whack Chin's shoulder as their eyes widen at the last words. "They didn't need to know that!"

You return your gaze to your seven roommates. "Ignore him, he's being dramatic."

"Sure I am." He suddenly releases you, causing you to stagger in your stance.

"Well, go on." He smiles, finally realizing what he's doing, which makes you scowl mentally.

You give them a nervous grin as they stare you down, waiting for you to move so they can see how serious your injuries are. You gulped and stood up straight without cupping your painful ribs, you took a tentative step, and as you put your weight down, your legs buckled and almost fell to the floor.

"Y/N!" Namjoon and Jungkook quickly sprang off the couch as they all exclaimed. Jin and Yoongi rushed forward as Jimin and Taehyung followed suit being the closest, extending their hands forward to catch you.

"You're not okay!" Jimin grips your right arm, while Taehyung does the same with the other.

"That's what I've been trying to say. And so did the doctor, you know, the medical professional whose life's work is to treat and diagnose all that is wrong with the human body." Chin snides obviously intended at you.

"Alright, I get it. But believe me when I say I'll be okay; all I need is a good night's sleep and I'll be back at work tomorrow."

"You're insane if you think you'll be able to go back to work like this." Jin scowls.

"But Jinnie..." You nearly whine.

"No, he's right Y/N. You're not going back to work tomorrow; instead, you're staying at home. Taking a week off, as instructed by the doctor." Chin cuts you off.

Your eyes widened. "A week?! But what about work?!"

He chuckles. "As for work, you'll be doing file reorganization. I'll drop over the materials tomorrow morning."

"You're going to make me do paperwork. Are you serious?" You stare at him in disbelief.

"Yes, I am. Steve's words, not mine. Which you will hear an earful from him, I should warn you." He responded.

You groan. "I know, I'm dreading it."

He puts up his hands in surrender. "You asked for it when you infiltrated enemy territory alone and severely outnumbered."

"WHAT?!" You winced at their reaction as they all shrieked out once again. "Chin, seriously, leave."

"Okay, okay I'm leaving. But you're staying at home, L/N, that's an order." Once Chin used your last name, the deal was sealed; there was no more room for debate.

You huff in defeat. "Yes, Lieutenant Kelly."

"Good." He next turns his attention to your seven housemates. "Make certain she doesn't do anything dumb and leaves the house."

Everyone curtly nods. "Don't worry, she's not going anywhere anytime soon."

"I'll take my leave then, see you tomorrow Y/N." As he leaves your apartment, you gave him a wave in return.

When the door closes, silence fills the air as you wait for the seven hybrids to speak. But, to your surprise, Jimin scoops you up and carries you bridal-style, making you squeal. "Jimin!"

"Taehyung prepare a bath for her. Make sure it's warm." Jimin orders the bear hybrid, who nods and walks ahead of the pair of you.

"Jimin, you don't need to carry me, put me down."

"No."

You pout. "Jiminnnn—"

"You heard Chin, Y/N- how could you say you're okay when you're seriously injured! You even have a stab wound!" He scolds you.

"Well- he said it's minor!"

"Doesn't make it any better." He scrutinizes you.

"Once you're finished with your bath, you have a lot of explaining to do, Missy." You heard Jin behind you two as Jimin enters your room.

You carefully exited your warm bath and drained the soap-filled water when you finished your bath. You notice the folded clean clothing on your sink counter and smile at how thoughtful the boys are about your well-being. You leave the bathroom and enter your room, where you are welcomed by Taehyung, who appeared to be waiting for you just outside your bathroom door.

"Taehy-" You squeak once again as Taehyung sweeps you up and carries you bridal-style, just as Jimin had done previously.

"You almost missed dinner." Taehyung says as he carries you out of your room and into the living room.

"If I'm supposed to have dinner, why are we heading to the living room?" You asked.

"So we can watch you and cuddle you." He responds, making you snort and smile.

"Oh, something amusing to you?" He arches his brow.

With a smirk still on your lips, you shook your head. "It's just the way you said, it was a little funny."

"I'm funny to you?"

"No, you're cute when you try to be mad at me." You stifle another chuckle.

He scoffs. "Glad you find it amusing." Well, you were right. Even if he tried, he could never be upset at you. After all, you were his mate, and even if you didn't even know it, his animal part and human counterpart won't allow any negative feelings about you to fester for long.

He eventually places you on the couch, between Jin and Yoongi, while the others gather on the floor, around the coffee and the seven plates of food.

"Now that you're here, you need to tell us what happened. But first, you need to eat; you almost missed dinner since you came home late." Jin demands, holding a plate and a fork.

You nod, and as you reach for a dish on the coffee table, your hand is swatted away, and you turn to look at the person who slapped your hand, Jin. "What?"

"I'm feeding you."

"Jinnie, I think I can feed myself. I'm injured but my arms and hands are still functional." You laugh.

"Your ribs are fractured, and you were stabbed. You should limit movement that can affect those areas." Jin said. "I know you hate feeling dependant, but please allow us to help you, Y/N."

Your eyes were drawn to his puppy-like eyes as he awaited your approval. You pause for a bit before sighing softly and nodding. "Okay, just for you guys."

He grins with his lips, displaying his adorable bread cheeks, which makes everyone else smile. He then picks up several pieces of your food and begins feeding them to you. "Now, explain Missy."

So you proceeded to tell how you received an anonymous message detailing Steve's location with the order to come alone. And, even though you knew it was most likely a trap, you weren't about to disregard what may be a lead to rescuing your boss. But you also weren't stupid, so you let Kono come along but remain hidden and strictly listened to your word. When you finally breached the location, you anticipated being surrounded, but you weren't prepared for the number of men that would face you.

Seriously, a dozen men for a lone girl? Do they really think you're that much of a threat? It was a precarious situation, but you had to admit that it stroked your ego a little to be regarded as so dangerous that you needed so many people against you. And from there, it was obvious how the story unfolded, which led to you being hurt to the point of unconsciousness and returning home late with the help of Chin.

When you finished telling the incident, the room became quiet for what seemed like hours as the seven of them processed the information until a raspy voice pierced the void. "Ya, are you crazy?"

You jerked your head, finding Yoongi staring at you, and you responded with a guilty smile. "Maybe?"

"Who are they anyway?" Asked Namjoon.

You sigh. "I don't know, that's what we've been trying to figure out the entire time but we got nothing. The only reasonable conclusion we have been able to come to so far is that they are the same people we dealt with in the Nakama and Sulgi case, which led us to Korea."

"But it wouldn't make sense for them to come all this way for that." You stated.

"What if they're the same ones that are looking for us?" Jungkook questions.

You shook your head. "No, I highly doubt that. If it were true, they would have come long ago. I don't think those people even know you've left the country."

You then notice the mix of doubtful and concerned expressions on their faces. "Hey- Hey, guys, it's okay. You guys are safe. They're not after you. It's me they want, I was the one who killed a lot of their men, anyway."

"They just want revenge."

"And that's exactly what we're worried about." Jin glanced at you with the same worried doe-eyes as Jimin had when you came in earlier.

"Oh, Jinnie, you don't have to be worried about me—" You attempt to reassure him.

"But that's the thing, we care about you, so much Y/N. We will be worried for you, I mean, just look at you!" Taehyung exasperates. "You can hardly walk, and it's obvious that you were nearly beaten to death!"

"But I wasn't! I'm not dead, I'm still here!" You yelled back, but the minute you realized you raised your voice at them, you felt regretful. You knew they only wanted you to be safe; being a cop and dealing with serious crimes on a regular basis isn't exactly the safest job. There will be occasions when you are confronted with the most gruesome scenes, pushed into life-threatening situations, or forced to make difficult decisions that will affect not only you but everyone else involved.

Despite Jin's protests, you rose from the couch and approached Taehyung. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to yell."

"I know you were all terrified when you saw me walk through the door. But I promise you that I'm not leaving anytime soon." You tenderly cup his face, staring at him with the most sparkling, purest eyes he's ever seen, making it impossible for him to break away.

You both locked gazes until he drew you into him, and wrapped his arms around you. "You better not. I don't- I mean, we don't know what we would do without you."

You chuckle in his chest. "Don't say that, you guys will still have each other."

"But it will never be the same without you." Hoseok says, making you to release Taehyung from the hug which causes him to whine.

"Y/N, c-can we see?" Jimin sweetly asks, catching your attention, and you nod in reply.

"Come back to the couch, first. I don't want you standing for too long." Jin orders, and you giggle at his attitude. "Yes, Jinnie."

You return to the couch, but before you can sit down, you're dragged by your elbow into the lap of a certain snow leopard hybrid. You yelp, as you land on Yoongi's lap, eliciting a low growl from Jin. "Ya! Be careful with her, she's hurt, for god sake."

"You smell." Yoongi says flatly, making blood rush to your cheeks in embarrassment.

"But I just had a bath." You muttered as Yoongi's cheek rubbed against your head.

"He's not talking about that. It just- you were... How should I put this...?" Taehyung struggles to explain.

"You reek of that man from earlier." Yoongi states, monotonously once again.

"O-oh... Does it make you feel better if you scented me?" You queried bewildered.

"Yes, but seems like Yoongi is already doing it." Jin answers while glaring at the snow leopard, who ignores him. "Is it alright with you?"

"Of course, whatever makes you guys feel better." You confirm, then you suddenly hear purring from behind you.

"Okay, that's enough—sorry, Yoongi goes a little too far at times." Jin apologized, and you shook your head. "No need to apologize; it's perfectly fine with me. You don't have to stop if you don't want to Yoongs."

"I actually like it, and the purring is relaxing." And with that, you've inadvertently caused another major spark in their hearts. Unbeknownst to you, they've mentally decided to scent you as much as possible now that they've been given the green light.

"So, can we..." Jungkook spoke out, drawing your focus away from Yoongi's actions. "O-oh, yeah. Just don't freak out, okay?"

"Well, we can try, but we can't guarantee anything." Jimin replies.

You mumbled an 'okay,' then began lifting the hems of your shirt, revealing your horribly bruised abdomen with a small size gauze pasted your epigastric area. You can see their breath hitch as it comes into full view for them, and you can feel Yoongi's grip on you tighten slightly.

"Jesus, Y/N... This is- this is bad." Namjoon whispers. "Is that where your stab wound is?"

You nod, and their frowns deepen even further. "That's too close to your artery."

"Well, their aiming sucks." You made a joke, but their lack of smiles caused you to pout. "Too soon?"

Jin leans forward. "Can I see it?" Without saying anything, you start to peel away the medical tape, slowly exposing the blood-red slender wound, the one that was far too close to your heart. Upon seeing it, you hear several low growls.

Then Jungkook advances toward you and takes your hands. "We'll find out who did this, Y/N, and they'll be sorry." They hurt you, and they hurt you real bad. If it had been an inch higher, it could have pierced your heart, and then what?  You would have died.

And that thought infuriates them, enrages them even, but they try hard to conceal such emotions in front of you. Nobody ever hurts their mate and gets away with it. It hasn't been a long time, but you've become such an important person in their lives that they aren't going to let you go for a while.

"Thank you, Kook, unfortunately, we won't be catching them anytime soon, but I'll give you first dibs when we do." You give him a cheeky smile.

"From this night on, you will be resting. We'll take care of you for the next seven days." Namjoon asserts. "No ifs and buts, okay?"

You huff and cross your arms like a child, which they find endearing. "Okay."

[beidousfavwh0re]

SWEET FLOWERS TASTE SWEETER IN SPRING

Kazuha x reader

sypnosis: half a year has passed since your childhood friend left for a life of freedom. The life that inazuma couldn’t grant. Maybe it was also time for you to change.

It was autumn, the time maple leaves left their trees and drifted far away. It was also the time where the Vision Hunt Decree was installed and you had to hide the vision you used to do proudly carry. Autumn was in many ways the most beautiful season, but also the one that now hurt the most.

Kazuha watched as his best friend fell to the floor, the wound across his chest agape. Above him, was the Raiden Shogun herself, her sword stained crimson. The red was very much like the maple leaves that fell from the trees too early. Too young. The last thing Kazuha had to take was an electro vision that faded in colour quickly. He clutched it in his hands as he rushed away from the scene, feeling like the world was crumbling behind. There was one place he could go now. The only place he wanted to be.

You were resting against the maple tree that grew in your garden when all of a sudden, your childhood friend burst through the door. There were tears in his eyes and blood staining his clothes and his hands desperately clutched at an object. It was a vision. One grey and devoid of all light. You refrained from asking who it was and how, choosing to gently take his shaking body inside. Even the strongest of souls had to break sometimes.

Kazuha fell asleep, soon after lying down on the futon that you had placed on the floor. He still held the vision to his chest but he was now more peaceful looking despite the redness under his eyes. Whenever you moved away, he would start to reach out for you and say how he doesn’t want to be alone. You’d never seen him like this but you assumed from the desperation in his voice and the way he clutched the vision, it was his best friend. Tomo.

You had never really met Tomo but knew he was dear to Kazuha. You were often jealous of Tomo for his closeness with Kazuha but never would you imagine this. Quietly, you wrapped your arms around the sleeping man, rubbing his back in an effort to soothe him.

When you woke up, he had gone. Perhaps to wherever the wind would carry him. You noticed a letter on the counter with his same messy handwriting.

‘Dearest (name),

I will be leaving for the Crux as they will be returning to Inazuma in the morning. I promise that, even as seasons may pass, I will return here. Once the Vision Hunt Decree is lifted, wait for me at the maple tree.’

You were saddened but of course with all maple leaves, they fall from the tree at some point. And then they disappear with winter. You just hoped desperately that he would remember you in the months to come.

—

Winter was quick to arrive. You had almost been killed several times and were now under the protection of the Kamisato clan, but no matter where you were, you felt trapped. It was the curse of inazuma.

Despite the falling snow, there were no children outside throwing snowballs and building snowmen. There was no one enjoying the snowflakes and cold. It was consistently silent no matter what happened, even when your neighbour was dragged out, shoved to their knees

& beheaded.

It was quiet.

No such sound of crying or screaming ever escaped into the land of eternity.

That’s why you savoured your last meal and specialty, sweet flower and sesame chicken. The sweet flower was bitter in winter which ruined a large portion of the meal. However, it was filling enough for the journey to come. Without a sound, you then escaped into the night.

And into a boat heading for Liyue Harbour.

—

Liyue Harbour was by far the most beautiful place you had seen, which wasn’t difficult as you never left Inazuma. Many of the people there were friendly and welcoming, offering a place to stay when you had nowhere to call home. You had nothing over than your clothes and a sleeping bag, nothing to call your own.

That was until you found a building to rent, something you could turn into a florist. You had always loved flowers. Nature was the only thing that continued to change in the land of eternity, flowers being the best example. They were the best sign of life you could find.

Sweet flowers were the best. Something from home to remember but also all across the world. They were pretty to look at and they tasted amazing. That’s why you included them in many of the bouquets at your shop.

Behind your shop, there was a room you used as a living space. It was small but cosy with a kitchen, bed and a small room with a toilet and shower. Then, you also lived near your friend and local chef, Xiangling. Quite noticeably, her cooking was some of the best in Teyvat even with her unusual ingredients like slime condensate. Xiangling was also incredibly kind and offered a place to stay when you had nowhere.

After knowing her for a week, you asked about Kazuha and the Crux. They were last in the harbour a month prior and would likely come back soon. Xiangling saw little of Kazuha but said he seemed tired and almost full of regrets whenever she saw him.

The florist gained attraction quickly and it was a great source of income, nothing like Inazuma. You didn’t miss the place at all, only the memories you shared there with Kazuha. You hoped that maybe when the Crux arrived you would be able to secure a place aboard and travel with Kazuha. You missed him still.

But, spring was the time that life was created and of new beginnings.

Still, maybe Kazuha would come back.

—

It was May. The flower shop was doing well and business was booming like always. It was also quite loud outside with people swarming to get to what sounded like the docks.

The door opened suddenly and you looked up to see another customer holding what was a bouquet of sweet flowers. He seemed to want a vase but was surprised to see you. You greeted him and showed him to the section of vases.

“Say, do you know that sweet flowers-“

“That sweet flowers are sweeter in spring?”

“So you remember?”

“Of course I remember, (name).”

It was him.

His white hair with the red streak seemed so familiar and his soft voice sounded just like months ago. He was handsome and just so Kazuha.

“Kazuha.”

You wrapped your arms around his shoulders, face closer to his than it’s ever been. His breath smelled of alcohol and fish, but it was also kind of sweet. He leaned towards your mouth as if asking for permission.

Then, it finally happened.

You finally were able to wrap your arms around his neck and press your lips against his tenderly. He closed his eyes reluctantly as if wanting to stare into them more.

In this empty flower shop, you were able to finally find company in him. He was now there to soothe the loneliness.

It may be true that sweet flowers are sweeter in summer, but nothing compared to the sweet of Kazuha’s lips.

send in requests <33

[genshin-impact-writings]

Hi! Congratulations on 700 followers!

I would like to take part in your mystery event. Could I request number 11 of fluff prompts and 11th trope for Diluc? Hope you have a great day!

Heya! <3 I'm so sorry that it took me so long to get to your request but here it is! Ngl, it felt weird to write about snow storms in the middle of August but I didn't want to keep you waiting any longer, so... ^^ Hope you like it.

Prompts: general, 11: snowed in + fluff, 11: “Just being here with you is enough to make me happy.” (700 followers event: Mystery Prompts) 

Ice feathers on the window – Diluc x gn!reader (fluff)

Winter had always been beautiful in Mondstadt. Everything seemed to be so quiet and peaceful, like the world was just taking a nap, covered with a thick blanket of snow that glistened in the light of the sun. Even the usual bustle at Dawn Winery came to a halt during that time of the year – and you really couldn’t deny that it was quite nice to have a bit more peace. Throughout the year, you rarely had the time to sit around and do nothing but during winter there was nothing better than sitting by the window with a big cup of hot chocolate and watching the snowflakes twirl around in the wind. 

Of course, winter also had its disadvantages, especially during a storm like that, but you enjoyed it nevertheless. There was nothing cozier than snuggling down into a fluffy blanket and staying at your warm home while the wind outside was howling. Needless to say that your boyfriend had a different opinion. Diluc hated winter with a burning passion, not only because it made it much more difficult to keep track of the Abyss Order and their shenanigans, but also because it reminded him of a time that was long gone. He rarely talked about it but you knew that he often thought back to his childhood, to the winters he spent with his father and Kaeya, back when everything had still been perfect. You knew how it pained him how their relationship had gone down the drain, although you were pretty sure that things could be fixed at least a little bit if he would just have a normal conversation with Kaeya and apologize – but of course, he was too stubborn to do that. Or maybe, you mused as you continued to watched the snowflakes outside of the window, he was just scared that Kaeya would reject him. Maybe a bit of both, even.

You let out a soft sigh, taking another sip from your cup. In the end, it was none of your business, but sometimes, you couldn’t help but think about their strained relationship and wonder if they’d ever find the courage to talk things over. For the sake of both of them, you definitely hoped so. 

You darted a glance at Diluc who kept himself busy with some paperwork while the storm outside was howling. You could sense that he was restless since he hated being stuck in the house but Diluc wasn’t an idiot. He knew that it would be crazy to go outside now, even more so because the storm seemed to be getting worse by the minute. In just a couple of hours, maybe less, the streets would be completely snowed over. 

“Come here and sit with me for a while,” you said and reached out for him. “There’s no need to bury yourself in your work.”

Diluc looked up. “Hm?”

“I asked you to sit with me for a while,” you repeated patiently, smiling at the confused expression in his eyes. When his gaze flickered to the papers in front of him once again, a part of you wanted to leave your spot by the window and just throw them into the fire. “No one will be mad at you if you take a break, Diluc. These calculations and invoices will still be there tomorrow.”

“I’m aware of that. It’s just-“

“I know” you interrupted him, your voice soft. “You don’t need to explain. I understand.”

He nodded, not at all surprised. Of course you knew. “Alright,” he agreed with a sigh as he shoved the papers aside and made his way over to you. As soon as he had made himself comfortable next to you, you snuggled up to him. Even through the fabric of your blanket, you could feel the warmth of his body, even more so when he wrapped an arm around your shoulders and pressed a tender kiss to your temple. 

“I really don’t understand why you love weather like this,” he finally said and frowned at the sight of the snowstorm. With a quiet laugh, you turned your head to look at him. “It’s cozy. And romantic. And it gives me the opportunity to spend some more time with you because you’re forced to stay at home.”

Diluc remained silent for a moment. Then, he sighed again, defeated. “We really didn’t spend much time with each other in the past few weeks.”

“See? And that’s why this storm is a good thing. I missed you.”

Another kiss to your temple. “I missed you too, love.”

For a while, the two of you sat there in blissful silence, enjoying each others' company. In moments like this, the outside world seemed to be so far away. As long as the snow kept falling, it was just you and Diluc, in your own little bubble, unbothered by any problems or struggles. 

“It doesn’t look like it’s going to stop snowing anytime soon,” you said eventually, earning a soft chuckle from Diluc. “Don’t act like that bothers you. I know that you wouldn’t mind if it kept snowing for the rest of the week.”

You joined in his laughter. “That’s true. You know me too well. But,” you added, “if you get bored with sitting around like this, we can try to build a snowman or something.”

His lips trailed down your neck, sending a shiver down your spine. “No need,” he mumbled against your skin. “But if it makes you happy, we can maybe go for a walk once the storm clears.”

“Just being here with you is enough to make me happy. You know that.”

“I’m glad you think that.”

“Of course, silly. I love you, remember?”

He hummed in response, kissing you again. “I love you, too.”

Thank you so much for reading! <3 If you enjoyed it, please consider reblogging and/or giving me some feedback. I'd really appreciate the support.

Taglist: @the-gayest-sky-kid @shanmie @genshinparty @pumpikun @lunargrapejuice

[cant-see-sam]

“I’m not going anywhere.”

Wilbur Soot x Reader

Narnia AU

She/They pronouns used

Author’s notes: Okay I’m not gonna lie when I said this took a while. I have a shit attention span so yeah. I wrote this for @lyssys’s birthday. Happy birthday to my favorite big sister. Sadly I won’t be here to celebrate, as I’m going to a camp tomorrow so I hope part 1 of this will suffice for now. I’ll come back with part 2 when I get back :) Enjoy!

Okay, okay, (Y/N) won’t be the first to admit that exploring abandoned places wasn’t good, but come on, the old mansion down the street was cool.

Surprisingly, the door was unlocked. The foyer was large, with winding old stairs that led up to a balcony on the second floor. Oak hallways and grand carpets lined the upstairs. Tattered curtains almost waltzed along their windows as the girl walked by. The sun had just gone down, so (Y/N) had to resort to using their phone light as a light.

The rooms were beautiful. An office with an old pen sitting in a dried up inkpot, bedrooms with the windows shattered from kids throwing stones. They told a story.

“Wilbur come on! This place is huge!” A blond boy raced in front of his brother. He was about eleven, and had the maturity of someone twice as old. Sometimes. He dropped a leather suitcase on a bed, “This one’s mine!”

A brown haired boy, Wilbur, sighed in only the way that older siblings tend to do, “Tom’s, quiet down, we can’t upset the professer.” Wilbur set his corresponding bags on another bed on the other side of the room.

“But Wil this is fucking sick!” Tommy ran out of the room.

Wilbur raced after him, “Language- wait up!” The boys came to a sudden stop as the younger paused in a room. It was mostly empty, with a single wardrobe half covered in a sheet.

Wilbur grabbed his brother’s shoulder, “Tommy we shouldn’t be here.” Wil was creeped out to say the least. It felt like someone was there with them. He looked around once more. Nothing.

“Oh shut up. You’ve been paranoid since father left,” The older boy’s face fell, “The war will be over soon, he’ll come back to get us.”

(Y/N) paused. Something felt off. They turned off their phone. Sure enough, small voices came from a room down the hall.

“..Huge…. Professor…. Sick!..”

The voices moved to the room next to her.

“We shouldn’t be here…. You’re just paranoid…”

Carefully, as not to disturb anyone, (Y/N) opened the door. Nobody. That’s not creepy. At all. Inside there was what looked to be a closet? No. That was a wardrobe or whatever her grandma called it.

In her shock, (Y/N) dropped her phone. They winced as it crashed to the ground. After a small struggle to pick it up the girl looked up, and the wardrobe was open,“What in the-”

“-Hell?” A loud noise echoed through the small room. It must have spooked Tommy because next thing Wilbur knew, he was being dragged into a mass of fur coats.

It seemed as if the wardrobe went on forever. The brothers wandered to the back of the closet, which never seemed to come.

Suddenly, as quickly as it came, the warmth of the coats dissapated as Wilbur fell into a mass of snow.

“Ow-” Tommy groaned from beside him.

Wilbur heard a yelp come from infront of him.

(Y/N) was curious, don’t judge, but this is the weirdest thing they have ever seen. The grandma closet went back for what seemed like forever.

She sneezed once again from the dust, and of course the moment they closed their eyes they were spit out into cold. A loud ‘oof’ rang out from under her along with a rough shove that knocked her into snow.

“Wilbur don’t be a dick to the pretty lady!” Some kid’s shrill voice rang out, “Hello pretty lady.”

“Tommy!” ‘Wilbur’ reprimanded. Wilbur was handsome, with dark hair and darker eyes. Exactly the opposite to what ( (Y/N) assumed) was his brother, who looked more childish with his bright blue eyes and golden hair. They had the same nose, along with similar face shape and despite looking as different as the sun and the moon, they looked so similar.

Tommy ignored his brother’s words and stood up to brush snow off his pants. The better look that (Y/N) got at the boys, the more the resized how odd they looked. They looked like they were straight out of the 1940’s movies that her grandparents made her watch.

“Why are you dressed like old men?” (Y/N) laughed, “What is it? The forties?”

Wilbur looked at her, confused, “What else would it be?”

“I’m sorry. What?”

“As a matter of fact, what are you wearing?” The blonde boy butted in while crossing his arms.

“Tommy, don't be rude.” Wilbur scolded. Again.

“You were the one who pushed her off of you I just-“

“Her? My name is (Y/N) you know!”

“Excuse me?” A fourth voice interrupted. The trio looked over, only to be met face to face with a small boy with shaggy brown hair and blue eyes to complement. Freckles dotted his face and arms, he wore a scarf with a thick jacket. He seemed normal, except for a pair of furry legs. They were stubby things, with hooves poking out of the bottom.

Wilbur was the first to speak, “Hello. Who- Who are you?”

The creature smiled warmly, “My apologies. I'm Tubbo.” He said.

“You’ve got some pretty sick legs bossman.” Tommy spoke next.

This made Tubbo smile warmly. His gaze fell on the trio like they were his saviors, “You’re the children of XD, aren’t you?”

“Who?” Tommy asked. Tubbo turned around and waved him on. The four of them trudged through the snow. At some point Tommy and Tubbo went ahead, leaving the older two alone. The sun had fallen at some point, leaving no room for warmth.

“You’re shivering. Would you like my coat?” Wilbur said softly.

(Y/N) laughed lightly, “I’m okay. Thanks.” Despite her denying it, the brown haired boy placed a soft overcoat on her shoulders.

He ignored her protests, “Keep it, I’m warm enough.” Wilbur smiled, “So, you’re obviously not from the same time. What changes?”

“Well the U.S joins the war. We invent new technology, computers, phones, and new music. Tons of new things happen in eighty-three years. In my age we would call you guys boomers.” (Y/N) smiled.

Wilbur scoffed, “That’s rude. Did people loose their manners along the way as well?”

“Probably.” The pair smiled at eachother, “We better catch up.”

Tubbo took them into a small cabin with a singular circular window. He quickly shut the blinds and led the group to a bookcase, “Here. Sit down,” he pulled a thick storybook from a stack of books, “Ready?”

Tubbo opened the book, flipping to a page in the middle.

“About a hundred years ago, the dream team came into power. George was a kind ruler, albeit a bit neglectful. Sapnap was hot headed, overly competitive but fair, but Dream-“ Tubbo sighed, “-Dream wanted power. He wanted to be the king of kings. Legend says that he banished his friend from the land, casting an eternal winter. In the myth it says that three children of XD will come and save the land, and claim their spots on the thrones.”

Wilbur raised an eyebrow, “And that’s us?”

“Yes! You’ve come to save us!” Tubbo looked extremely excited, he was practically jumping in his seat.

“We’re supposed to save the world?” Wilbur continued, “and how do you know that?”

The creature seemed to deflate at that, “It’s the Prophecy. It has to be true.”

“But what if it’s not?”

Tubbo sighed at this, “I’ll explain more in the morning. We should get some rest.” The small boy reached over and blew out a single candle that lit the room, “Make yourself comfortable. Goodnight.”

(Y/N) was the second to wake up. Tommy was curled into a ball on the sofa to her right, with Wilbur sitting asleep on the floor under him. Tubbo had been sitting on a separate couch, already awake and writing in some sort of journal.

Eventually the brothers woke up and started engaging in a groggy argument on where they were. It was quite amusing watching them go back and forth in tired voices.

It was relaxing, but the calm atmosphere didn’t last.

Someone pounded at the door. Tubbo jumped up immediately, yelling to the group to leave through the back window.

Tommy ran ahead with Wilbur and (Y/N) hot on his tail. Heavy boots followed them closely, and Tubbo’s frantic shouts tried to calm down whoever was chasing them. Tommy went through the window first, and as soon as Wilbur got through he turned around to help (Y/N).

(Y/N) grumbled, “I’ve got it.” So Wilbur put his hands up.

The group continued into the woods behind the cottage. (Y/N)’s legs burned from running and Wilbur’s lungs heaved, but still, they ran. Eventually they had lost sight of what seemed to be a hunter.

Tommy had run further ahead and rounded a corner. A yell rang through the forest that made Wilbur’s hair stand on end, by the time they reached him the boy was sitting on the ground and clutching forehead.

“Tommy!” Wilbur yelled frantically, rushing to his brother’s side to assess his wound. As Wilbur pulled his younger brother’s hand from his head Tommy whined. (Y/N) gasped when his hand came away stained with blood.

“Shit shit shit- (Y/N)!” WIlbur started panicking.

“What the hell do you want me to do?” (Y/N) yelled.

“I don’t know! Help him!”

“I’m not a nurse Wilbur! I can’t just-”

Tommy sniffled. While the two were bickering the small boy started crying.

“Tommy- Tommy I’m sorry. Hey-” Wilbur looked like a kicked puppy, and probably felt like one too.

(Y/N) grimaced, “Wil- we should really keep going. It’s not safe.”

“Can you shut up for a second? I’m trying to help my little brother here.”

“Wilbur-“ The concern in her voice made Wilbur look around and take in the area for the first time. It wasn’t very safe, not many places to hide. (Y/N) was right, it wasn’t safe.

Wilbur sighed, “Fine.” The boy ripped a piece from his shirt and wrapped it around Tommy’s head. He lifted his younger brother onto his back, nodding to (Y/N) that he was ready.

Soon enough Tommy had fallen asleep, worn from the events of the morning. As the boy slept peacefully on his brother’s shoulder, Wilbur and (Y/N) made small talk.

“So about this prophecy thing. Do you believe it?” (Y/N) poked.

Wilbur sighed again, “We’re in a magical world with someone that could be my great grandchild. I don’t know what to believe anymore.”

(Y/N) only laughed. The conversation eventually fizzled out into comfortable silence. They walked side by side to each other until the sun went down again.

Wilbur was fiddling with some big sticks he found, “We should stop for the night. I think Tommy’s fine. If not a bit dirty. I’ll try and get some food.”

“We can find a stream tomorrow morning,” (Y/N) commented, pulling Wilbur’s coat tighter around them, “I hope Tubbo’s okay.”

“I think he’s fine, the person left too quickly to do too much damage.” Wilbur bent down to pull together a small trap, and went to sit next to his brother. He leaned his head against the trunk, sighing in exasperation, “We should make a fire.”

“You lay down, I’ll do it.”

Wilbur raised an eyebrow at this, “You know how to make one?”

“I’m not from your time, jackass.” The girl rolled her eyes. Wilbur hummed.

Eventually (Y/N) had wandered off to get some firewood. Wilbur stayed with a sleeping Tommy, raking his hands through his hair. A twig snapped to his left, and he looked over. There stood two men. One was tall, with black hair falling over a white bandana. He wore a white cloak that stood out in the dark, the other was shorter, with bright blue eyes to match a ruffled white shirt. He had multiple mushroom decorations adorning his hair and skin.

Before Wilbur could question them the first one started, “Are you the son of XD?”

Wilbur froze, “What?” His voice trembled as he spoke.

“There’s only two of you,” The man continued, “Where is the other?”

“Right here. Is there something wrong?” (Y/N) came from the other side of the clearing, carrying twigs and sticks.

The shorter man reached forward in an attempt to comfort them, “We didn’t mean to scare you. We just heard you came and we wanted to help. I'm George. This is Sapnap, he’s not the friendliest.”

“You’re the-“

“Old kings. You’ve heard of us?” Sapnap cocked his head.

(Y/N) nodded, “We ran into a fellow a while back, he told us about you.”

George smiled, “Ah. Tubbo. I’m happy you found him. He’s okay by the way, just a bit spooked. We figured he would know where you were.”

“Would you like to join us for dinner?” Wilbur waved vaguely in front of him.

“We really shouldn’t, but we do have something to give you.” Sapnap reached into a pocket in his cloak, and George reached into the satchel on his side. They pulled three items with each of the trio’s names on one.

Wilbur shook Tommy awake, who groaned, “Wil let me sleep-“

Sapnap sighed, feigning disappointment, “Okay little man, you don’t need a gift.” He started putting the red bag away.

Tommy shot awake immediately and reached forward to get the bag. Sapnap laughed and handed it to him.

Tommy quickly opened the red velvet bag and looked inside. A grin grew on his face as he pulled out a compass with his name engraved in the back, as well as a small dagger.

“This will lead you to us. If you ever need help, you’ll know where to go.” George crouched down in front of the boy and set a hand on the back of his neck, “And don’t use that unless you need to, kid.”

Wilbur was handed a soft dark blue sheath with small silver stars dotting the surface. The guard curved back into the grip, which had leather wrapped around it. Small star shaped sapphires were embedded into the halt at the base. When he pulled the sword from its shaft, Wilbur smiled. Engraved into the metal were the words;

‘Without Valor, Freedom Dies.’

“Wilbur,” Sapnap called, and Wilbur looked up, “The people will look to you. Lead them. Keep them safe.”

“I will.”

George turned to (Y/N), “And you. Here.” George handed the girl a very similar sheath, but it was a warm red with small sun’s on it. Amber shined at the base and blended in with the leather wrap on the grip. As she pulled it from its sheath the words; ”Without Freedom, Hope is Gone.” Fell from her lips, “Thank you.” They sheathed it once again and bowed their head.

Sapnap rested his hand under her chin to make her look up, “Keep your head up, soon enough folks will bow to you. They need a leader.”

With that Sapnap and George stepped away from the group.

“Good luck.” Said the first.

The second nodded, “Our friend is a fighter. But keep a level head and a steady heart and you will succeed.”

The men stepped back into the darkness, and disappeared.

They left the next morning. Tommy was feeling better, and the gash on his head just turned out to be a scrape. They found a stream nearby and got some water (that could or could not be good to drink.)

They walked for hours, following a worn down path in the forest. The trees cleared until they found a large field. Tents scattered the grass, and from what Wilbur could see, people were training.

A girl about his age, with pink hair, practicing archery. A man with kind eyes and an even kinder smile. A tall boy wandering around aimlessly, and- is that Tubbo?

Tommy smiled, “Tubbo! You’re okay!” Everyone, including Tubbo, turned around. The trio watched as they clamored in excitement, before kneeling down.

Someone must have noticed the chatter die down, because a man with a regal attitude walked out of the tent. His outfit was simple, except for the red cloak that trailed behind him. His pink hair was pulled into a braid that fell over his shoulder, small purple flowers poked out of the tangles.

The man raised his hand, and the people rose. They whispered among themselves as he made his way to the three. He stopped close enough that they were able to see small tusks poking out of his mouth. He looked the small group up and down and snorted, “These are the kids that are supposed to save the world?”

“You don’t seem like you do much either, pinky.” Tommy snapped. (Y/N) held back a laugh and looked over at Wilbur, who seemed to be doing the same.

“This ankle biter yours?” The man cocked his head.

Wilbur sighed, “Sadly,” and laughed harder at Tommy’s complaints.

The man reached his hand out to shake and Wilbur offered his, “My name is Technoblade, just Techno is fine. I’m their general.”

“We’re going to war?” (Y/N) asked.

“Sadly.” Techno repeated.

It had been a month since they had fallen into this wonderland. The trio were trained personally by Techno, they planned and trained again.

The tent they stayed in was large, three cots along the sides and a large planning table in the middle. They often stood around and mapped out routes and strategies, which the general would point out weak spots in, and start again.

Most free time was spent speaking to the troop. There weren’t many people, barely enough to call an army.

(Y/N) leaned over the map again, offering a suggestion which Techno shot down. Wilbur watched her, she was concentrated in a way he’s never seen her before. Her hair was tied back lightly and the dress that was given to her matched well.

“What if we went through the south? Wilbur? Wilbur?”

Wilbur hummed, “What?”

“Are you okay?” (Y/N) sighed, “You’ve been out of it lately, Tommy’s noticed too.”

Techno took one look at the poor boy’s face and chucked. He made some dumb excuse of ‘checking on Niki’ and took his leave.

“(Y/N) can I ask you something?” They nodded, “I we die here-“

“Don’t say that, Wilbur.”

“Stop. It’s a very real possibility. If we die here then I just want you to know that I’m grateful. For taking care of Tommy, of me. It means a lot and-“

(Y/N) cut the boy off, “Wilbur,” She walked closer to him, “I’m not going anywhere.”

Wilbur smiled, “Neither am I.” He took their hand and brought it up to his lips, giving it a small kiss.

“Wil-“ The boy smiled and bent down, pressing his lips to hers and resting his hands on her waist. As they pulled apart (Y/N) rested their head on his shoulder as Wilbur pulled them in for a hug.

“Wilbur!” Tommy ran into the tent, heaving. Wilbur turned to his brother instinctively, a knot rising in his throat from what he thought was happening.

“What? What’s wrong Tom’s?”

“They’re here.”

Techno entered behind him, “Time for war, sir.”

[latte-to-go]

the art of loving you [alcina dimitrescu]

summary ━━━ sometimes, it was difficult for you to tell if what you and lady dimitrescu, or alcina as she has allowed you to call her, had was love. it remained a lingering thought in your mind as her daughters continued to call you their mother’s ‘human play-thing’ and most days, you let it not get to you. but, it was difficult to ignore that fateful night and the lady of the house had easily noticed something was upsetting her little pet.

pairing ━━━ alcina dimitrescu x reader.

words ━━━ 1612

fandom ━━━ resident evil.

warnings ━━━ pure fluff, honestly. but, it has some hints of nsfw vibes but it doesn't go into them.

author's note ━━━ lady dimitrescu owns my heart and I have spent so much time reading fanfics about her that I just needed to write one of my own. who knew a tall sexy vampire lady would be what broke my hiatus and brought me back to tumblr? but, I am here to stay and I am so excited to write more reader inserts! and to continue to fill requests! for now, my requests are open! but, I will probably write a lot more for alcina as well! so, I haven't finished resident evil village yet because of how busy I am with work and that might make the characters a little out of character! but I couldn't wait to write about alcina! hopefully, I will have the game finished soon! some things have been spoiled for me already, but a lot of the game is still unknown because I am still in the very beginning of the game where ethan just gets to the village. but, I still hope you all enjoy this one-shot! it's just fluff between the reader and our lady!

DARK CLOUDS LOOMED AGAINST THE HORIZON, matching the catastrophic thoughts that lingered in the back of your mind as you numbly flipped the pages to the book you had tried so hard to distract yourself with. But, your mind had not retained any of the words written on the yellowed pages as your mind stayed on the woman that held every inch of your heart. With a sigh, you turned your gaze out the window instead. The window pane was cold to the touch, courtesy of the snow that remained a constant of the land.

It had only been two years since you had arrived at Castle Dimitrescu ━━ a mistake, truly. At least, at first, it had been as you stumbled across the maidens that the grandiose home belonged to. It should have been the last night of your life, but the lady of the house had taken a keen interest in you. You had not understood it at first, but you had grown attached to Alcina Dimitrescu and her… mysterious ways. Perhaps, you would even go as far as to call it love at first sight. And, you had thought she had felt the same way with her sweet words and burning touches. But, then doubt had become to creep into the dark crevices of your relationship with the woman.

It was often her daughters teased you, complaining about how they couldn’t stand to hear the beat of your heart. But, their mother had explicitly forbidden them from touching you. Though, you did not feel unsafe around them and had grown to trust and like each of them. But, their words tended to hurt whenever they referred to you as their mother’s play-thing. It was as if there was a timer on your life and it wouldn’t be long till Alcina grew bored of your presence and decided it was your time to join the dead.

“The day has come and gone and you have yet to leave our bedroom,” the regal voice belonging to Alcina echoed throughout the room, startling you at your spot in the window sill. She stood tall with her golden eyes watching your every move, making you hold your breath as you waited for her to speak. With long strides, she quickly reached the window as she looked down at you with an unreadable expression. Regardless of your height, you always dwarfed in comparison to her as she stood taller than most she came across. But, she looked even taller whilst you sat. She leaned down, placing a gentle kiss against your lips. When she pulled back, her gaze met yours. “Has something happened?”

“No,” the word quickly left your lips as your felt your cheeks burn at the sudden closeness. Her scent of her old vintage lavender perfume with hints of blood filled your nose ━━ the old mixture had become a comfort for you. With a clear of your throat, you continued to speak. “Everything is fine.”

A hum left her red lips, seemingly vibrating every sense of your being. With two fingers, she trailed against your jaw as she continued to stare at your parted lips. “You should know better than to lie to me, my darling.”

“I do not wish to bother you with my human problems,” you muttered bitterly, pushing her fingers off your skin. For a moment, her eyes flashed with an unknown emotion but she did not utter a word as she took a step back to create space between the two of you.

“So, something has happened,” Alcina commented, standing to her feet as she towered over you again. It made you feel small in every sense as a wave of tears made their presence known. Hiding them from her was futile as she continued to watch, making you sniffle as you tried to wipe them away. “Tell me, who has hurt you?”

“No one.” It wasn’t like you to throw her daughters underneath the bus because of some harsh words. After all, you needed to be stronger than that.

Her hand reached forward, wiping away the stray tear with her thumb before she caressed your cheek. It took everything in you to not lean into her touch, refusing to place a kiss against her tender skin. Despite your lack of reaction, Alcina moved closer as she took a seat on the window sill. It was difficult due to her size, but she made it work as she continued to run her thumb against your cheek. “Then, why the tears?”

She waited for you to speak, listening to the shaky breaths that left your lips as you tried to gather your thoughts. “I’ve been having doubts,” you confessed, biting the inside of your cheek as you met the woman’s eyes. “About… us.”

“What do you doubt about us?” She asked softly. And, for the first time, you could hear worry in her tone as she slowed her movements. Her sharp gaze had softened, lingering on your saddened expression.

With a deep breath, you took her hand off your cheek as you held it close. Her hands were larger than an average person’s, but you still fit perfectly in them. “I fear that you do not love me the way that I love you,” you whispered, keeping your eyes on your interlocked hands. “I feel as if I am something that you use to pass the time. Someone to warm your bed at night for the time being before you get bored and move to the next.”

“People say I’m heartless,” she started off slowly, taking your words deep into her heart as her gaze flickering to your hands as well. “They call me a monster ━━ a frightening legend that mothers tell their misbehaving children. And, for a long time, I believed in those legends that painted me as a cruel vicious beast. That is, until I met you, my darling.”

Her words made you look up, daring to meet her eyes as she stared at you unblinking. Her beauty had always taken your breath away, making her perfect to you at anything that matters. Still, you remained quiet.

“Perhaps, I did not love you at first,” Alcina confessed, ever so slightly tightening her grip on your hand as she let out a heavy sigh. “But, you came into my life like a storm and I had learned how to dance in the rain. Regardless of what you think, my love for you is true. My darling, you make me feel whole ━━ the missing piece I had unknowingly been searching for.”

“Do you really mean that?” you asked softly, barely finding your voice as you faced the woman. Her words were like honey, dripping sweetness onto your tongue as you tried your hardest to believe her.

Her free hand caressed your cheek, moving closer to you before she left a chaste kiss against your forehead. “Have I ever lied to you before?”

“No, but…”

“Cease your doubts, my love,” Alcina said, staying inches away from your lips as her breath fanned against your cheeks. She whispered your name, letting out a deep sigh as she took in your scent. “What can I do to convince you that my love for you is true? To convince you that I want to spend the rest of our days together? To convince you that my heart yearns for you and only you?”

"Alcina…” you whispered softly, closing your eyes as her lips hovered over the skin of your neck. She didn’t move, waiting for some indication from you. “I love you more than anything in this world and… I wish to spend the rest of my life with you. If you would have me, that is.”

The soft words caused Alcina to open her eyes as she faced you, showing no emotion as usual. It made it hard for you to predict her next move as you waited for her to say anything. But, then a soft smile presented itself to you as she leaned in close. “Of course I would have you, my darling,” she whispered, meeting your eyes. “I would do anything for you.”

Her words brought a smile to your lips, pushing you forward as you engulfed her lips with your own. She was quick to pull you into her lap as she held you close, kissing back with the same intensity that you gave her. It made you feel warm with her love as any doubts you had begun to vanish as she held you. There was no doubt that Alcina Dimitrescu was hopelessly in love with you as you were with her. Yet, the sweet moment had ended too soon.

There was a knock at the door, causing a deep growl to leave Alcina’s lips as she pulled away from yours. It left you breathless as the two of you looked to the door to see Cassandra. She wore a sadistic grin, moving deeper into the room as she regarded the two of you. “Forgive me for interrupting,” she cooed, stealing a glance at your flushed expression with playful vice. “But, he’s back.”

A frown marred your features, causing you to glance back at Alcina and see the irritation blooming. “Who is back?”

With a sigh, Alcina looked to you as she forced a smile to her lips. She moved forward, leaving a chaste kiss against your lips that had become stained the same color as hers. “Only a nuisance that you needn’t worry about,” she whispered softly, moving to stand to her feet. “I shall be back soon, my love.”

At her words, you smiled. “I will be here waiting for your return.”

[aristocratic-otter]

Hi folks! Well, first of all, I'm out of my mind. Just sayin. I decided to sign up for NaNoWriMo with only ten days left...and I'm going to try to finish it. Why? Because I've got too many WIPs and I just signed up for the Discord Secret Snowflake exchange, so I'm about to get another. I need to wrap these up, and I've got a week off, so what better time?

Second of all, y'all have got to see the lovely art my husband commissioned from my friend @frjsti for my birthday. See below.

Isn't he brilliant? And isn't my husband the absolute best?

Ok, on to business. First, thank yous. Then snips under the cut. Thank you to @ivelovedhimthroughworse, @erzbethluna, @ionlydrinkhotwater, @confused-bi-queer, @you-remind-me-of-the-babe and @hushed-chorus. I'm always astonished at how creative and diverse you all are and I'm thrilled to know you!

Six sentences from:

Playing With Fire, Treading Thin Ice

When I emerge from the ensuite, I’m a little unsettled to find Simon still nude. How am I supposed to question him about his magic when there’s so much gorgeous skin on display? But before I can ask him if he’d like to get dressed so we can talk with a little more dignity, he blurts, “What fucking right do you have to judge me, Baz?”

I just stare at him. 

His eyes are flashing and his hands are drawn into fists like he’d like to punch me. It’s disturbingly attractive.

From: Raising Dragons

I move to the door, and, out of long habit (Simon’s always had a few dark creatures hunting him), I glance out through the peephole. What I see makes me go stiff.

“Simon!” I hiss through my teeth, which have once again sprouted fangs. “Go lock yourself in the room with the children!”

“What? Why?” he asks, craning his neck as if he could see through the peephole from where he’s at. 

“It’s the goblin king!”

From: Xanadu AU (Unnamed right now)

Simon is staring around himself, open mouthed. “What is this place?” he asks in an awed tone. 

When Fiona showed me around, she told me, “it’s a settings room. We try out different backgrounds, lighting patterns and sound blends before we send our artists out on tour.”

My mother had a different answer, the one I give Simon today. “Music is magic, little puff,” she’d tell me. “And like all magic, it sometimes needs a little bit of inspiration to get going. This place exists to give our musicians their magic back.”

From House AU (gift fic for @yellobb-old)

The Universe must really be mocking me for me to find myself in Baz’s hospital. Tyrannus Basilton Grimm-Pitch. Child of high birth and privilege. My former roommate. A brilliant scholar and a bullying arsehole. What gods did I piss off to land me here?

From Saving Simon Snow:

“Show me how I can trust you,” I say, my voice softer than it has been during the duration of this call. 

“Meet with me? Somewhere public, your choice,” he says. “I’ll let you cast whatever truth spell you want on me.”

My eyes widen. That is a dangerous offer, and Basilton must know it. 

“Meet me at the McDonalds in Hounslow in one hour,” I say. 

And finally, from Westward Son:

I start back, my hand over my mouth. Did the demon take over Simon? Is my best friend…gone?

Baz is feverishly casting healing spells over Simon, and, as a precaution, I take up the demon exorcism chant again. I hope that if Simon’s body is hosting the creature, it will vacate as soon as the chant finishes, even if I don’t have the power of the full circle behind me. 

I’ve just started naming off the demons again when Simon’s eyes flick open.

It's actually not too late to post for Sunday, so I'm just gonna tag some west coast peeps (and a few friends from farther away just to say hi) in case they want to share what they're working on.

@fatalfangirl, @palimpsessed, @annabellelux, @basiltonbutliketheherb, @carryonsimoncarryonbaz, @facewithoutheart, @giishu, @frjsti, @krisrix, @larkral

[squidproquoclarice]

Yeehawgust Day 6: Our Gang Means Death

November 1899

Beaver Hollow, New Hanover

No secret in camp that things had split into two.  Micah and his cronies Joe and Cleet–she never could remember or care which one was which, only that one was skinny and one was big, and they both had rat faces.  And both were obviously there for bloodshed, sitting there boasting about scores and kills from the past alongside Micah, and Micah making big plans for big scores and casually talking about getting rid of any obstacle in their way.  Sometimes with sly glances towards Arthur that set her on alert.

On the other side, herself and Charles for sure.  Seeing those glances and making a point to try to not leave Arthur alone too often.  She didn’t know whether Micah planned anything, but…well, she’d seen what men with no scruples and a taste for bloodshed could do.  She and Jake had both suffered dearly for it.  

She knew with a bone-deep certainty that a good man, no matter how capable, tended to eventually go down underneath the weight of that violence and treachery if he was around it too long.

A good man greatly weakened and slowly dying from tuberculosis made it all the easier.

They’d taken Arthur out hunting today, her and Charles, getting him away from it. Getting him away from sitting there staring at the ruins of his gang–his family–with eyes that had always been sad to some degree since she’d met him, but now held a weight of grief and regret that pierced her to the core.  Getting away from staring at Dutch in mingled confusion and betrayal and hope.  Not that there was much point left to hunting, with half the camp gone and snuck away during the night.  But they were an alliance, her and Charles, had been firmly ever since the debacle in St. Denis, and they both cared deeply for this man, their friend.  They both knew Arthur would need some reason that came with at least some justification of providing something for the gang, or doing something for someone.

So here they were hunting in largely barren late fall woods, the bite of snow and frost right around the corner from the chill in the air.  She wondered how many of them would last the winter.  Not herself, if she was lucky.  She’d avenged Jake and she’d lose Arthur soon enough no matter what, and that was enough for her.  She’d seen what she was now, and she didn’t much want to live with that weight any longer.  

Neither of them looked as tired as Arthur–hell, had anyone?  But she could see the circles around Charles’ eyes, and knew she had them as well.  Having seen nothing so far, they sat on some fallen logs and drank coffee, and ate some canned provisions without much enthusiasm.  Arthur, as usual, barely ate enough to keep a bird alive.    

“It weren’t always like this.”  She barely heard the words, little more than a murmur.  Looked up to see Arthur cradling his mug of coffee in his hands.  

“What’s that?” Charles asked.

He looked up at the two of them.  “It weren’t always like this, you know.  Us.  You…well, you’re both new enough.  You especially, Sadie.”

He almost never called her Sadie.  Almost always the perfectly proper Mrs. Adler, like they were passing acquaintances in town rather than people who’d fought and bled together.  Trying to give her some kind of respect as a widow, she supposed, but it dug in all the deeper to be reminded exactly what had become of her Mr. Adler.  “But even you ain’t been here more than a year, Charles.  It’s…”

“I don’t imagine the gang would have lasted this long if it had been,” Sadie answered him wryly.

She and Charles exchanged another of those glances, and Charles shook his head slightly, tiredly.  Knowing Arthur’s need to defend the gang, defend Dutch, even now.  If there was the slightest damn chance they could get him to cut and run from Dutch, they would have pushed it to the brink.  But he wouldn’t.  Loyal to the end, Arthur.  Admirable and frustrating all at once.  They would have to wait and see, and...maybe.  Some treacherous part of her heart still wanted to hope.

“I mean,” Arthur went on, not quite looking at them, staring down between his feet as if the answer to life’s meaning was written there, “you didn’t see it.  How it was.  We used to stand for something.  Stand for each other, and for them who didn’t have much place in the world.  And sometimes taking it back from them rich bastards who squeeze ordinary folk until they’re crushed.  Or…at least I thought we did.  Now, seems like all this gang means is death.”

She couldn’t argue that.  So many dead this year, both in the gang and out of it.  Some deserving, like those fucking O’Driscolls.  Some not.  But there had been blood spilled to fill an ocean, bodies left behind the Van Der Lindes, over and over.  Sometimes she couldn’t help but think of those left to grieve the innocents who got caught in the middle of it.  Women who’d been like she had, or children.  There were tears fit to fill an ocean too, she suspected, and God, that notion twisted her heart and made her so unbearably tired.

“Each of us can still decide what we stand for, at least,” Charles replied, taking a sip of his coffee.  She could feel hers cooling in her hands, and took a healthy drink of it herself.  Bitter and black as her soul.  

She couldn’t tell herself she had the luxury of pretending she was a principled woman anymore. But she would stand for those she cared about most, those who had been kindest to her–Arthur, for as long as he’d allow it, and Abigail.  She’d try to keep people alive, rather than killing.  “What we stand for,” she answered Charles, her own voice quiet, but looking towards Arthur, “or maybe whom.”  

She couldn’t buy back her soul, but she could do something to save someone rather than kill them.  That would have to be enough.

[writingfromkitchenator]

Snowy Warm Confessions

Christmas Fic

Masterlist

Beorn x Neutral Reader

Requested by Anon

Words: 1,900

Warnings: Trapped by a blizzard, admitted feelings, fluff.

This time of year was always treacherous when it came to leaving the house, but sometimes, it was something that had to be done.  You hadn’t meant to be gone for so long, but the snow had started falling far earlier than you had anticipated, and now you could feel the bite of the cold starting to get through your warm clothes.

The crunch of snow under your boots was a solemn reminder of just how risky this time of year was, no matter what celebrations were held, and while you were rugged up to the hilt, mostly thanks to Beorn’s insistence, it would mean little if you got stuck out here when night fell.  Your heart sank a little at the thought of Beorn, knowing that he hadn’t wanted you to go, and that he’d no doubt be worried you weren’t back yet, but it was going to be of little help to you now.

Beorn had tried to convince you not to go, that the two of you would manage with what you had, but a low amount of healing herbs was always a worry to you, and while he seemed to heal well enough most of the time, you never really wanted to take the full risk.  One day, something might happen, and then it would hurt you more than you’d ever admit, to not be able to help the skin changer.

Normally, you lived the valley over, and Beorn had quite startled you one year by just turning up on your doorstep and asking all sorts of questions.  Once he realised that you were safe, and more than willing to help, he eased off a bit, and the two of you formed a friendship that had last you both many years. You couldn’t even remember when the suggestion as made about spending winters together, but you hadn’t once complained since.  The company alone was good for both of you.

Even though that company was often paired with unsaid feelings.

Your friendship had slowly developed beyond that, but neither of you had dared to try and voice that yet.

This was all irrelevant to your current situation of course.  You still had several hours walking to go before you got back to his home, and the wind was starting to grow stronger, which meant that a blizzard may soon be on the way.

Your breath puffed out in front of you, and you pulled your coat tighter around you.  You just had to keep going and not stop till you got home.

The crunch of your shoes was soon drowned out by the sound of the wind.  You cursed under your breath and knew that you were too quickly running out of time. You were going to need to find shelter.

Several markings you could see told you that you were close to a cave, and you hoped that it would be more than enough to outlast the blizzard. You weren’t sure if any of the wood around would be good enough for burning, but at least cave walls would be some sort of protection.

As you reached the cave, the blizzard began to gain in intensity, the snow stinging your eyes, and the scream left you quickly as a hand gripped your arm.

“Easy Y/N,” Beorn’s voice quietly grumbled, his grip loosening on your arm.  “I have been looking for you everywhere.”

You quickly clutched at your chest, your heart pounding. “Dammit Beorn, don’t do that.  I’m sorry, it took me longer than I thought it would to find them, and then this blizzard started far quicker than I expected.”

He gave a small nod and lead the way into the cave, out of the snow.  “My apologies, I did not mean to startle you.  I have just been worried.  We will have to wait out the storm here I fear.”

Nodding, you wrap your arms around yourself in attempt to fight off the cold that had settled over you.  The blizzard could last for hours, or all night, but you hoped, especially now that Beorn was here, that it wouldn’t feel like that long.

Beorn lead the way deeper into the cave, away from the starting howl of the blizzard, and once he felt you were deep enough, he pulled a small bundle of wood out of his coat, ones which you recognised from the cut pile at home.

He bent down and started to build a small fire.  “You should’ve let me come with you today, we could’ve found what you needed in half the time.”

You let out a slow breath, trying to show that you weren’t feeling the cold.  “You had your own things to do, Beorn, I could hardly take you away from that when the worst months are coming all too soon.”

Beorn hummed as he worked, and soon a small fire burned away and he stepped back.  “Get close to it and warm yourself up.  You’ve been out in the cold for far too long.”

Watching him, you felt a little guilty.  “What about you?”

His eyes glinted in the firelight, but the faintest of smiles tugged at his lips.  “I do not feel the cold like you do.”

His bear form, of course, protected him.  You still remembered the shock you went through when you first found out about his other side, but it had quickly become something normal.  As far as you knew, you were the only person  he had ever shown his bear form too and felt comfortable around in.

You sighed quietly and sat in front of the fire.  The heat provided was little, but it was enough that the bite started to leave your skin.

Beorn sat down on the opposite side.  “Better?”

You nodded, but kept your gaze on the fire, not wanting to give anything away.  Winter was going to be long enough as it was without that hanging over your heads.

“Did you get what you needed?” Beorn grumbled quietly as the silence stretched on.

“Yes,” You said softly, inching as close as you could to the tiny flames.  “We’ll be more than set should anything happen over winter. I can’t believe that it took me so long to check it.”

“It happens,” he reassured.  “But you are safe now, that’s what matters.”

What did he mean by safe? You wondered to yourself.  A blizzard might have been starting, but the shelter of the cave was alright.  You certainly would’ve been half frozen, but it wasn’t like you’d never gone through that before.  It was the nature of the world.

Beorn shifted across from you and you watched as he shrugged his own coat off and held it out to you.  “Here.”

You blinked.  “Beorn...”

“You are freezing,” he said, shaking it a little.  “Take it.”

“No,” You shook your head.  “You need it far more than me.  I’m close to the fire, I’ll be fine.”

He held your gaze and you just knew that he was taking in the situation.  For someone that was so quiet, he was awfully good at taking everything in and making the correct judgement.  The only reason you held his gaze, was because you didn’t want him to think that you were hiding anything.

A noise left him and before you could say anything, he was standing up and moving over to you.

“What are you doing?”  You asked, even as he sat next to you.  “Beorn, you don’t have to-”

His coat wrapped around the two of you and you sat shoulder to shoulder, and while you couldn’t complain about the sudden warmth surrounding you, you still didn’t know how to feel about the gesture.

“Does this suit you better?”  He asked quietly.  “We can both be warm this way.”

You tried not to show how awkward you felt, but you knew that it would only work for so long.  “You didn’t have to, you know?”

“I do not wish to see you sick,” Beorn said, ensuring that the coat was well and truly around you.  “And no matter what you say, I’m not as good as tending to you when you are.”

“Beorn,” You gave a small laugh.  “Don’t be ridiculous.  If it wasn’t for you several winters ago, I would be long dead.”

He went quiet for a moment, as if the memory pained him, and you couldn’t help but watch him in the dim light.  So often you had wondered exactly what went on his mind, he was so quiet and reserved at times that it was hard to get anything out of him, but now, sitting this close, in a situation like this, you wanted to know more than ever.

Gently, you rested your hand over his, earning his gaze. “You can talk to me, you know?  I am here for whatever you need me for, whenever you need it.  I like to think that after all this time we are at least friends?”

That normally hard exterior, one that was so hard to read, softened a little, and his other hand rested over yours.  “We are, and I am sorry if my pensive thoughts trouble you. You mean everything to me, Y/N, and I do not know what I would do without you.  That…was a hard time for me, and it has left me worrying about many things since.”

His words sunk in slowly, and you smiled, brushing your fingers over his cheek.  “You mean a lot to me too, you old bear.  There’s still no need to worry about me like that though.  It was one mistake, years ago, but everything has been alright since.”

A low grumble rumbled through him.  “And getting caught in this blizzard today?”

Your smile widened.  “Well, I can say it was all part of my plan to get you here.”

Beorn chuckled softly, and before anything else could be said, he dipped his head, pressing his lips to yours.

“Do you mind being warm now?”  He asked quietly as he broke away, holding your gaze.

“I never mind when it’s you,” You giggled, pressing another kiss to his lips, making him hum.  “But next time, when you suspect how I feel, talk to me much, much sooner.”

He laughed and nuzzled his nose against yours.  “In truth, I was not sure until recently.”

Sighing, you snuggled into his side, glad when his chin rested atop your head.  “Still, just talk to me.  I’d rather talk about it than have us silently sit there and try and work the other out.”

Beorn hummed.  “And you did not do the same?”

You bit your lip, and Beorn gave your side a squeeze.  Too slow to move, giggles broke out of you as he dug his fingers in, tickling your side, and it was only because you almost kicked the small fire, that he stopped quickly.

“Point taken,” You continued to giggle, settling back into him, it far too cold to think about moving.  “Guess we still have more to learn, even after all this time.”

Beorn nodded and then scooped you into his arms, holding you close.  “We do, now sit still and let’s keep warm together.”

He didn’t need to worry about that, and as you both settled, gazes on the fire, you knew that everything was going to be less treacherous now.  You had each other, and that was all that mattered.

[hauntedpizzaruins]

Just a shitty Heisenberg x Ethan fic

Intro

Miranda and the lords are dead, besides Heisenberg, of course. They have Rose and have turned into a highly unexpected family of sorts. It didn’t take long for Karl and Ethan to figure out they had more in common than a hatred for Miranda. 

Ethan was freezing.

He had practically collapsed in the snow, he could have sworn he heard Miranda's voice, so he followed the sound, but it led him nowhere.

Trauma does funny things to you, Ethan knew that all too well but sometimes it caught him off guard, and ended in him laying in the snow with no coat, no clue of where he had wandered, and no idea how long it would take Heisenberg to find him.

After some time, a rough voice called out from the distance, 

“Ethan? Jesus, Ethan!” Called Heisenberg, picking up his pace until he was kneeling by Ethans side.

“What the hell happened? What are you doing out here?” He asked, sounding uncharacteristically worried. He pulled off his coat and draped it around Ethan before picking up the smaller man with no struggle at all. 

There was no reply, unless you can call an exhausted groan a reply.

Heisenberg started walking back to the factory, hoping that between his body heat and his coat, Ethan would be okay until he could get him somewhere warm. He had stopped him from wandering off before and almost felt guilty for not noticing he was gone sooner. This could have been avoided if he had just been a bit more damn aware of him.

Upon returning to the factory, Heisenberg took Ethan right to his room, or more accurately, their room, hell, it even had Roses cot in it. He carefully lay him down on the bed and got some blankets on him. After adding a few more chunks of wood to the fireplace he sat at the edge of the bed, looking at Ethan, unsure if he was still awake or if he had passed out in his arms on the way back.

“Karl?” Ethan mumbled, opening his eyes and looking up at him. His hair was frozen by the snow and he looked pale and exhausted, but he was awake. 

Thank fuck he was awake.

“I’m so cold… Can you- uh-” He said hesitantly, hoping Heisenberg would understand what he wanted. The pair were still warming up to intimacy, mostly for Heisenberg's sake, so even in a situation like this, Ethan felt awkward pressing him for closeness, even if he was literally freezing.

But Karl understood what Ethan wanted, and needed, and was happy to oblige. Within moments, Karl had kicked off his shoes and joined Ethan under the covers, cuddling him up to himself the instant he could. He was shocked by how cold he was, which only made him hold Ethan closer.

“What the hell were you doing out there? If I hadn’t found you when I did-” Karl cut himself off, not wanting to think about what could have happened. 

Ethan was the first person he had cared about in a very long time and the thought of losing him was almost too much for him to handle. The return of love into his life was still something he didn’t know how to feel about. It made him vulnerable, susceptible to emotions that get in his way. But it was something too nice to give up, even if he never expected to care so much about anyone. And besides, what was there for it to get in the way of anymore? He had nothing to worry about anymore, no more need for lycans and experiments and the awful machines.

“Hey, I’m okay, just kinda cold.” Ethan said with a small laugh, snapping Heisenberg out of his thoughts. Heisenberg's response was a deep sigh and a nod as he bit his tongue on how Ethan very clearly nearly died. He knew Ethan didn’t need to hear it right now.

“And I, well I swear I heard Miranda's voice, I know she's dead but it sounded so real… I had to check.” He sighed, pressing his head closer into Karls chest. 

“I just had to be sure, I can’t lose Rose again…” Heisenberg just nodded as Ethan spoke, he wasn’t all that good at knowing what to say, never had been, but the years of isolation can’t have helped. But he had to say something, he couldn’t just stay silent.

“She's dead, I promise you that. I made damn sure of it. Next time you hear that shit, tell me, I can tell you if it's real or not.” He knew his response wasn't the softest, but it was the best he could do. 

He tried to make up for this by pulling Ethan a little closer and placing a very awkward kiss on his head. He really wasn’t good at anything intimate, it had only been a few months and he had a lot of walls to break down in his head, but he tried his best, for Ethans sake. 

Ethan nodded into his chest, too exhausted to keep talking, all he wanted was to rest and warm up. Karl knew this, and didn’t mind staying there until Ethan was okay, he didn’t care if that was a few minutes or a few hours, he would do whatever was needed, and laying in bed holding the man who had changed his life for the better and who he would soon come to terms with loving didn't sound half bad anyway.