#we got over a foot and a half of snow in a single night so i was shovelling until i thought my arms would fall off -- gotta spread that pain

[benevolenterrancy]

put this boy back in the warm waters of lotus pier, he's not made for an alpine winter!!

[frankenstein-ate-my-left-shoe]

@steddiemas Day 13 -  Snow Day

uh...yeah.. this got way away from me but...here's day 13! (a day late and 4k words more than normal???)

pairing: steddie | word count: 5,201 | rated: T

The following Thursday finds Eddie and the entire Hellfire Club literally and metaphorically clamoring over each other and his large dining room table while their campaign (Eddie had helpfully told him) continues on.

Luckily, Robin had agreed to spend their night off work from the video store with him.

“So, when are you going to do something about your hopeless Eddie crush?”

“SSshh! Not so loud, Rob!”

She rolls her eyes at him, “Sorry to tell you this Dingus, but I don’t think he’s paying you a single modicum of attention.”

Steve looks over at the table from his spot on the couch; Robin’s right, of course, Eddie’s already halfway onto the tabletop, his arms stretched wide and the rest of him hunched low to the wood.

He’s deep into his story and his voice is dropped low, only the tone of it reaching Steve’s ears.

“He’s such a dork.” Steve sighs, shaking his head.

“Yeah, but you loooove him!” Robin teases, poking one foot that had been with her other on Steve’s lap into his side instead.

Steve rolls his eyes at her, “Hand me another slice of cheese.”

She reaches over to one of the leftover boxes of pizza on the coffee table and fishes out a slice for him, “So what are you gonna do about it?” She asks, handing it to him.

“About what?” he asks, taking down half the slice in one bite.

“Don’t play dumb Steve,”

He sighs, “I don’t know Rob; he hasn’t made a move either! He kissed me first, remember? Right over there!” Steve points to the offending doorway, “Because of you, by the way.” he snarfs down the other half of the slice two big bites.

“I remember.” She nods.

“I honestly don’t know what to do Bob, I want to corner him and kiss him all over his fuckin’ body but how’m I supposed to know if he’d be okay with that? Does he want that?”

“Oh he wants that, believe me.”

Steve narrows his eyes at her. She only quirked a brow at him in return. “What do you know, Buckley?”

Robin snorts out a laugh, “I would say to just go for it, but I feel like he’d freak if you did that out of the blue.”

“So, what, I just say ‘Hey, I really really like you, maybe already halfway love you, and I want to know if you’d like to kiss about it maybe?’?”

“Who’s Steve kissing?”

Steve jumps at Dustin’s voice, suddenly beside him. He knew his hearing was going on his left..Robin told him he was just imagining it.

“OOh, Steve’s kissing someone?” This time it was Lucas, his voice teasing as he passes behind Dustin through the door under the stairs with his arms full of pop cans.

“I’m not kissing anyone,”

“He just wants to.” 

Damn you, Robin. Steve glances quickly to the table, Eddie has his back turned to them.

“Who is it?”

“Uh, it’s…” Steve pauses for a half a second, “None of your business. You guys done for the night?”

“Yeah.. about that..”

Oh no–

“Can we stay the night here? We have to start planning out our characters for the next campaign!”

“You guys are done done?” “Not quite,” Steve turns his head to the right, the older kid Frank is standing in the other doorway from the living room to the hall closest to the front door. “We have one more session then I’m DM-ing the next campaign.”

Steve nods along with Robin (whose head is hanging backward over the arm of the couch closest to Frank). “So you…six? Seven? Want to stay the night?” He's already skimming through the house in his head to where the extra blankets and pillows are stashed. He should have enough.

“No, just us.” Mike confirms, plopping down onto the carpet between the coffee table and fireplace across from the couch. “Me, Lucas, Will, and Dustin.”

Dustin nods, adding “And Eddie was going to stay a little longer to plan his own character, since he’s gonna be able to play in the next one.”

Steve turns back to Frank and the other older kid…Jeff…?, who’s now leaning around the doorway too. “You guys aren’t staying?”

“Nah man, we don’t wanna impose, thanks for having us though.” Maybe Jeff said.

“Yeah, of course,” Steve lifts Robin’s legs off his lap and stands, moving to see the three older Hellfire members off at the door. The Harringtons are polite hosts first and foremost. “Thanks for coming, guys.” What was he thanking them for? It wasn’t like they were here for him.

Jeff’s polite smile seemed to echo Steve’s thoughts, “Of course man, thanks for having us over.” “And for the pizza.” the shortest of the three says to the agreement of the others.

Jeff shakes Steve’s hand, the shortest one (Garby? George? It was something with a ‘G’) smiles again after pulling on his coat before heading out to Frank’s truck.

One of Frank’s solid hands lands on Steve’s shoulder in a friendly pat, and it’s almost enough to miss Eddie slipping out the door behind him into the slow fall of fat snowflakes outside. He was surprised to see a swath of snow had blanketed his front yard since the boys had been here.

Steve almost says something, but hears the guys exchanging their own farewells through the cracked door, so he turns back to the steps. 

Will is already coming back down them, arms full of blankets and pillows, Lucas following behind him.

“I was about to go grab those myself–wait, did any of you dipshits call and ask your parents if you can stay? It’s a school night!” Steve follows the two into the living room.

The four of them immediately look cowed.

“OOohh you better get moving guys,” Robin teases.

“All of you up, you’re calling home.” Steve waves his arm as if to shove them all through the hall into the kitchen. “And no complaints, otherwise you’ll all be piling into the beemer before you can say demogorgon.”

Three of the four boys grumble their complaints as they pass him, “Hey, you’re lucky I’m even letting you stay. Seeing as how I’m the one that’s gonna have to drive you all to school in the morning.”

“You’ll already be driving Robin!” Mike complains

“Yeah but I have pretty privilege.” Robin calls from her spot on the couch.

Steve hears the door click closed, and looks over to see Eddie coming back in.

“Hey–” Eddie disappears down the hall and past the steps, only to reappear in the dining area through the other doorway under the steps. He immediately goes back to whatever papers he’s got on the table.

Steve looks down at Robin, who looks up at him at the same time, his confusion is reflected on her face.

He’s about to go talk to Eddie when Dustin calls for him from the kitchen.

-x-

“Steve! Mom wants to talk to you!”

Eddie hears Dustin call from the kitchen, and he stacks his pile of notes together, finally closing them up into his spiral notebook.

He pauses then. Just staring down at the disheveled wire binding. 

He should go. No need to torture himself further, the kids will understand right? He’ll just make up something about his Uncle needing him home right away tomorrow morning or something. 

Yeah. That should work, it’s not like anyone would call Wayn—

“So. You’re down in the dumps.”

Eddie’s shoulders crowd up against his ears at Robin’s arrival.

“I’m fine.”

“Uh huh.” She doesn’t believe him, of course.

He can hear the sound of Steve’s cheery voice from the kitchen, the tone he takes whenever he’s talking to one of the kids’ parents, and Eddie can feel his face screw up in pain.

“Ah hah!”

“Don’t.”

“I didn’t say anything.” “You didn’t have to,” he bites out, “It’s not like you’re the one having to listen to your crush wax poetic about some girl he wants to kiss stupid.”

He turns to look at her. Robin’s face is blank for a moment, then a barely-there smug smirk appears on her lips.

Eddie’s vision goes scarlet. “You don’t get to be a shithead about it, Buckley. This is all your fuckin’ fault.” he spits out in a low whisper.

“My fault?” she echoes in the same tone, the smile falling from her face. “What’s my fault??”

“You’re the one who made me think I had a chance, weren’t you? The one who put up that fuckin’ mistletoe? Your fault.” He pokes her shoulder accusingly. His volume was getting higher, so he adjusts before continuing. “I should have known there was no chance; he’s the one who said ‘Now we’re even.’ after he kissed me in Melvald’s!”

“He said tha—”

Eddie was practically hissing at this point, just a steady stream of steam escaping him like a cartoon character. “He just felt bad, Robin! He just felt like he owed me something, there’s no goddamn feelings there!”

“Eddi–”

“I gotta go.”

He scoops up his notebook in one hand and snatches up his bag with the other, slinging it over his shoulder.

“Eddie, don’t go–”

He stalks down the hall past the steps away from her voice. He’s almost to his escape when Dustin cuts off his path from the kitchen doorway closest to the front door.

“Eddie, you’re leaving?”

“Sorry kid, gotta go.” He steps around him, “I forgot Wayne needs me home right away tomorrow morning.”

“But you were going to–”

“I’ll help you later, Dustin.” it wasn’t supposed to come out like that.

“Don’t be an ass, Eddie.”

“You know what? Bite me, Mike.” He really shouldn’t be taking his feelings out on the goblins.

“Fuck you, man.”

“Hey! Hey, what is happening right now?” Steve comes out into the hall then, making eye contact with Eddie for a fraction of a second before Eddie focuses on lacing his boots onto his feet.

“Eddie’s leaving,”

“...Okay? And?”

Alright, ouch.

He yanks his laces even tighter.

“And he said he would help us, and now he’s leaving.”

“Oh come off it Dustin, you heard what he said.” Lucas says, an eyeroll in his voice.

“What’d he say?” Eddie’s head told him that Steve’s voice sounded hurt, but best not to believe his head right now. “He said,” Eddie cuts in, “That his uncle needs him home in the morning.”

Steve’s soft “Oh.” was barely audible over the other three arguing back at him.

He yanks the last lace tight to his calf and stands sharply.

“Yeah, so, thanks for having us over, Harrington, I’ll see ya around.” he purposely doesn’t look up at Steve’s face as he says this, focusing on his notebook and bag.

His hand just reaches the doorknob when Robin’s voice calls out from the living room. “Don’t think you’re going anywhere anytime soon, Eddie.”

Because his arm was already in motion when she started talking, the door opens in front of him just as she finishes. 

The slow fat flakes from only, what, 10 minutes earlier? are now flying harsh and sideways across the light escaping Steve’s front door. It’s piling up out there, and fast. Bessie has braved many a winter in Hawkins, but he knows he’d get snowed in by time they got across town to the park. 

Honestly though? Getting snowed in on the side of the road is seeming much more preferable than staying here after his little hissy fit.

“Eddie? Just stay here, man.” Steve sounds much closer than before, “I don’t want something to happen to you–” What Eddie can only assume is Steve’s hand falls to his shoulder, and he immediately turns away from it, closing the front door and letting his bag fall down his arm to the floor in the same motion as he turns into the kitchen without making eye contact with anyone.

The phone is still warm in his palm when he lifts it to his ear, punching Frank’s number into the buttons on the cradle. 

In the handful of rings it takes for him to pick up, Eddie can hear the others whispering to each other, no doubt things like “What’s Eddie’s problem?”, “Why’s he being mean to Steve?”, “Why can’t he control his big gay feelings for his obviously straight friend?”.

Okay, maybe that last one was a bit much for a bunch of sophomores.

“Hello?”

“Frank, you’re home?”

“Uh. Yeah. You called me at home.”

“Well it’s snowin’ like shit outside now, I wanted to make sure you guys got back safe.”

“Oh. Yeah, yeah, I just got in when I heard the phone. Everyone’s home safe.”

“Alright good, I’m gonna stay here at Harrington’s; talk to you later man, I gotta call Wayne.

“Okay Ed, see ya’.”

Eddie jabs his finger into the phone’s switch to end the call, then starts to dial the trailer. Wayne should be just about to leave for work.

“Y’ello?”

“Hey Wayne, it’s me.” Eddie says, turning his face away automatically when someone shuffles into the kitchen.

“Ed, where’ya at?”

“I’m still at Steve’s. It really started to come down so I don’t want to risk driving home tonight.”

“Good. You stay righ’ there, son.”

“Are you still going in?”

Wayne hums in agreement, “Got to.”

Eddie’s stomach sinks, “Wayne–”

“Now don’ you worry ‘bout me boy, I woke up early enough to get the chains on the truck.”

“Fine, fine. Be careful, old man.”

“You got it kid. I’ll see ya tomorrow.”

He hangs the phone back into it’s cradle on the wall feeling much looser now; he’d almost forgotten why he was so wound up, but seized up again as soon as he turned.

Steve was standing at the stove, stirring something that was obscured by his torso. “You want some hot chocolate too, Eds?” he asks, not turning from the stove.

Eddie gives him a short “No.” and goes back out into the hall to unlace his boots once again.

He wanders back into the living room with his bag and plops down in the recliner, pulling out his monster manual and his smaller, less pulverized notebook, the one with the basics of his next character fleshed out in it.

A tiefling bard, one he had imagined as having such thick skin on him that no matter what snide remarks, insults, and bashes to his character were thrown at him, he’d only shrug them off. Something real Eddie’d love to do. A charming, charismatic bard that got all who heard his songs to overlook his hellish appearance.

Wouldn’t that be something.

While he’s mulling over what name to give his bard (he’s waffling between Zarlech and Erron), Robin appears, settling in on the corner seat of the couch beside him.

He tenses up again, thinking she’s going to try talking to him about the too-good-for-this-world man in the yellow sweater in the next room, but she doesn’t. She only sits down and starts back in on the thick Vogue magazine she’d been swiping though since he and his troupe arrived.

Steve comes in with two mugs of cocoa not long after, walking to Eddie first with a soft smile.

“I told you I didn’t want any.”

He regrets his tone as soon as the words pass his lips; Steve looks stunned, the boys’ idle chatter from the coffee table dies off immediately.

Eddie’s face burns in embarrassment, but before he can even open his mouth, Robin says “I’ll take his,” and reaches for the steaming pale yellow mug. 

He passes it over, and stands there for a moment with the other mug before turning and handing it over to Will, the closest to him of the four on the floor.

Steve pinches the bridge of his nose briefly, then turns out of the room. Robin’s up and out of the room not a moment later, saying, “I’ll go help him with you threes’.”

There’s a beat of silence, then: “What. In the actual fuck. Is your problem, man?”

Eddie turns to face the voice; all four teens are staring at him, each one with a different level of incredulousness on their faces. Mike’s is the worst, looking at Eddie like he just killed his dog.  And he’s about to get revenge for it.

“Who do you think you are to talk to him like that, huh?” Mike seethes at him, “This is his fucking house, and you’re gonna sit here and be rude as all hell just because he doesn’t like you back?”

What the fuck?

“What the fuck?” Eddie hears his voice echo his thoughts. “How do you—”

“Steve puts up with enough shit from us as it is, he doesn’t need it from you too.”

There’s surprise on the other threes’ faces, but Eddie’s got an inkling it’s surprise at this coming from Mike and not from the content of the outburst.

“Uh..”

“Mike’s right, Eddie. You’re our friend, but Steve’s our…” Lucas trails off.

“He’s our Steve.” Will says resolutely. 

“He’s our Steve.” Lucas agrees, “And we won’t hesitate to drop you like a dead fish over him.”

Eddie turns his gaze to Dustin, not looking forward to what he might see in his closest butthead’s expression.

Dustin’s face is set in determined lines, and he meets Eddie’s gaze solidly. “I love you both as brothers, man. Don’t make me choose between you two…Though I will choose Steve.”

Robin returns before Eddie can formulate any sort of response to..all that.., pressing a steaming mug of cocoa into each of the boys’ waiting hands.

She came in with four though, and brings the last one to Eddie. “Leave him be for a minute. I’m sure he will be fine, but he’s upset.” He takes the mug from her and she squashes back down into her abandoned seat with a sigh. “Which usually means he’s going to be doing laundry until I make him go to sleep.” 

Eddie spends the next 25 minutes trying to think about what he’s going to say to Steve, what he’s going to tell him was the reason for his bullshit attitude.

For a solid three, he seriously thinks about telling Steve the truth, that he got all pissy at the thought of him sucking face with whoever it is he’s got a crush on, but that’s really not fair to Steve..or to this mystery girl.

At 30, Robin nudges his arm with her bony elbow, so he leaves his book and still-unnamed character on the chair and goes to find Steve.

He follows the sound of music coming from off the kitchen, stopping just outside the door when the low sound of Steve singing along to ‘The First Nöel’ playing softly through the radio.

It had to be that damn song, didn’t it?

…Okay, maybe it’s not so bad if Steve’s the one singing it..

He steps into the narrow room once the radio host comes back on. It’s small, but there’s more than enough room for the machine’s doors to open and to manuver a basket around in here, and there’s a side door out to the yard at the end of the room; there’s neat-ish piles of clothes in front of the washer and overflowing a basket under the dryer door, a few loose dust bunnies and used dryer sheets litter the corners.

Steve’s standing at the dryer, pawing through a seemingly freshly cleaned pile of towels on its top.

He glances up at him briefly when he enters, going back to the pile immediately, “Eddie, hey, sorry for sulking off like that. I just..got into my head a bit.” Even Steve sounded like he didn’t believe what he was saying. “I’ll be back out in a minute, just gotta take care of this load..”

“Hey, it’s alright man. It’s not all on you, you know.” Steve’s hands stop when he looks over, dropping themselves and a half-folded towel back onto the pile. “Look, I’m sorry Steve. My brain is weird sometimes too; I had some of my own shit pop back up for no fuckin’ reason at all and it just..really threw me. I didn’t mean to take it out on you like that, I swear.” 

The truth. For the most part at least. He really didn’t mean to snap at Steve like that over fuckin’ hot chocolate.

“Really, it’s okay Eddie. You did say that you didn’t want any.”

“Yeah, well, that doesn’t give me the right to be an ass to you.” Eddie ducks his head in embarrassment.

“Thank you,” Steve finally says. “I appreciate it, Eds.”

Relief floods through him at the nickname, he meets Steve’s gaze again. “Do you uhm, need help or anything?”

Steve smiles softly, “No, I really do just need to take care of this last load and I’ll be back out there.”

A low howl of wind from outside the side door cuts him off before he can reply.

Eddie groans, “Well that sounds like it’ll be fun…”

All in all, it was fun.

After going back to the living room and confirming with the others that he did, in fact, apologize to their Steve, Eddie sat back down with his notebook and got back to work.

He was slowly absorbed into the boys’ huddle and by time Steve comes back in, all five of them are heavily debating what alignment Zardok the bard should be.

Not 30 minutes later, the lights flicker off above them.

“Aw hell.” Steve mutters from the sofa.

“I’ll start running the tub.” Eddie sighs, pushing himself off the floor and waving his arms in front of him so he doesn’t run into any walls on his way.

“Why would you run the tub?” Dustin asks, incredulous.

“You fill the tub with water in case the pipes freeze while the power’s out. That way you still have water to flush the toilets and get clean and stuff.”

“Thank you Will, exactly.” Eddie says. Smart kid. 

Damn. Why doesn’t he carry a mini flashlight again?

“That’s a thing?” Robin asks, then clicks on a flashlight. Where in the hell’d she get that?

“You don’t need to do that, Eds. The place is plenty well insulated.” Steve assures, stopping him from leaving, “The pipes won’t freeze, I promise.”

“....Lucky bastard.”

Dustin goes to the opposite end of Robin’s couch and fishes another light from between the cushions.

He and the other three make quick work of arranging their blankets and pillows there in the living room, Dustin’s light only going so far as to help continue their brainstorming.

Steve and Robin leave them to it, and lead Eddie upstairs with their light. 

One round of fighting off nightmares later, he’s dragged into wakefulness with the smell of cinnamon.

He re-cinches Steve’s lended sweats around his hips and trudges down the stairs.

There are snores still reverberating from the living room, and Steve is standing in front of the stove flipping something.

A square glass pan with an inch of some sort of mixture in it was sitting on the island across from him along with an open bag of bread and half a dozen eggs still in their carton.

The floor under his feet squeaks when he stops in the doorway, alerting Steve to his presence.

He glances over his shoulder at him, then goes back to the stove to flip something again. “Hey Eds, just makin’ some breakfast, you want something?” He turns to him fully then, leaning his elbows onto a clear patch of the island countertop.

Steve must take his sleepy silence as confusion.

“Oh! The power came back on last night. Well, er..” he looks back at the stove’s clock, blinking 5:08 out at them, “Early this morning, actually.”

Huh. Guess it was confusion.

“Anyway, you want some french toast?” That explains the cinnamon. “Or I can whip you up some eggs…?”

“No, no, french toast is great.” his voice comes out scratchy with disuse. “Thanks Stevie.”

Steve smiles and turns back to the stove, “The coffee machine is on, if you want a cup; I’ll have a plate ready for you in just a couple minutes.”

Eddie wakes up slowly with his coffee, watching as Steve resets the clock on the oven to his watch.

“It’s 8:30 already? Shouldn’t we get the kids up for school?” Holy shit. Who knew Eddie Munson would ever sound so much like a mom.

“Nah,” Steve waves him off, “I was up with my alarm to get them up and ready, but when I got down here, Claudia called. The school called a snow day.”

Steve passes him a plate of toast, already smothered with syrup. “You want powdered sugar?”

“Ooh fancy, fancy,” Eddie laughs, adding a haughty accent to his next words, “Bring me my powdered confectionary Steeves, I wish to dust it upon my imported french breakfast.”

Steve rolls his eyes at him, but passes over a short ceramic container of the stuff.

Lucas is the one up next, going to the coffee machine before acknowledging either of them.

He sips on his cup without adding anything to it, the heathen. Eddie’s own cup was nearly drowned out with milk and sugar.

Slowly but surely, the rest of the house wakes up and wanders to the kitchen, each getting a plate stacked high with sweet cinnamon-y goodness.

Dustin, Mike, and Will are sitting at the little breakfast nook table in the kitchen’s front window, getting steadily louder about their plans for the near eight inches of snow that’s blanketed across Steve’s front yard.

“You’re going to help me shovel it out so I can get you free-loaders home as soon as possible. That’s what you’re going to do.” Steve insists, pushing a plate of toast in front of Robin, the last to get up.

So that’s what originally got them all outside, but two shovels can only get two of them so far with the driveway before any of the other five start fucking around.

The first blow comes from Mike, a well thrown snowball hitting dead center on the back of Will’s head.

Then Lucas lobbed one aimed for Dustin but hit Mike right on the nose.

Will’s shovel was abandoned, teams were made, and Steve was left shoveling alone when the snowballs really started flying.

Robin, Lucas, and Will booked it for the bushes on one side of the yard, immediately packing snow up between them and into gaps in the branches to protect them from the flurry.

And of course, the only other good cover on the other end of the yard from them was Steve’s beemer, so Eddie, Mike, and Dustin dove behind the newly uncovered tires, frantically packing snowballs from the untouched drift under Steve’s car.

“Really?” The three of them look up at the sound of Steve’s voice.

Fuck, he looks so adorable all bundled up like this. Nose and cheeks bitten red with the cold and with the exertion of shoveling, scarf tucked around his neck and into his jacket, the dark blue mittens, one on his hip and one over the handle of the shovel, the matching knit cap—even as he glares disapprovingly at them.

“So you’re not gonna help me, and also subject my baby to enemy fire? Not cool, guys.”

Mike lobs a ball across the yard.

“Join us then! Help us defeat those heathens and we’ll help you with the driveway.”

A snowball smacks into the back passenger side window of the car

“No.”, Steve says with finality and goes back to shoveling.

Another ball soars over the roof of the car and splats across the cleared-ish pavement behind them.

“Awe, you’re no fun Stevie.” Eddie complains, though he’s definitely not complaining about the view he’s got right now.

Dustin sends one back, mumbling out a “Damn! So close..” soon after.

“Bite me.”

Not 10 seconds later, a blast of snow smacks the back of Steve’s head.

Everyone freezes.

-x-

He turns slowly back around to face the three snow-covered idiots crouched behind his car.

All three stare wide-eyed at him, faces flushed with cold.

Mike and Dustin's hands raise at the exact same time, both pointing at Eddie.

He can tell from Dustin’s face that it was definitely him that threw the thing at his head, but the panicked, adorable, wide-eyed look Eddie has at the accusation is worth playing along for.

“What?! You traitors!” He scrambles up and back, glancing over and managing to duck a snowball aimed for his head by Robin, “Stevie, sweetheart, darling, you know I wouldn’t do that to you.”

“Do I?” He growls out playfully, advancing on the doe-eyed menace.

“Yes! You know I love you, Steve, I would never betray you like that.” 

The words, even said teasingly as they are, make Steve’s stomach swoop heavily. He’s lucky his face was already red from the wind.

“I don’t know, Eds,” He holds out one mittened hand to Mike as he passes between the two boys. He drops one into his palm. “Sounds like something you would do.”

He raises the snowball and yells out, chasing Eddie around the front of his car to the hoots and hollers of the others jeering him on.

Eddie is not a good runner, and his Reeboks slip and slide as they try to carve a path through the fresh snow in the yard.

He’s quick though, and doges out of Steve’s reach when he almost catches the back of his borrowed puffer coat, launching off toward the side of the house instead.

Oh no.

“Wait, Eddie! There’s a—” Eddie’s dark head of curls disappears under his feet as he slips off over the side of the hill. “Hill—shit!”

Steve spoke too soon even for himself, unable to stop his momentum before he slips down the hill too.

Snow pushes itself under the back of his jacket down the first half of his slide, then one of his feet gets stuck up under him and he tumbles ass-over-tea kettle the rest of the way.

“OOF—” he lands on something much more solid than snow at the bottom.

Eddie’s cackling laughter bursts out from under him, his chest heaving with it under Steve’s own.

“Eddie, you okay, man?”

Steve pushes up on his hands, one on either side of Eddie’s torso, to look down at him properly.

He lost the red hat he’d grabbed when they came outside earlier, gone to the snow somewhere, and his hair is fanned in an almost perfect halo around his head.

The red spots on his face show off the flakes that fall onto them briefly before they melt under the heat of his skin, his mouth open wide and his eyes crinkled shut in laughter.

Steve was already head over fuckin’ heels for this man, but…oh.

Oh.

Eddie has laugh lines.

They’re so deep already, crinkled up at the corners of his eyes, but for a split second, Steve can’t help but wonder how much more they’d be in 10, 15, 20 years in the future. 

And he realizes in that instant that wants so badly to be there to watch them grow longer.

look out, it's noelle coming in hot with the Oh. Oh. moment!

other parts! Pt. 1 (Day 1) | Pt. 2 (Day 2) | Pt. 3 (Day 5) | Pt. 4 (Day 6) | Pt. 5 (Day 7) | Pt. 6 (Day 11) | Pt. 7 (Day 13) [YOU ARE HERE] | Pt. 8 (Day 18) | Pt. 9 (Day 21) | Pt. 10 (Day 25) also on AO3! this year

[scorchieart]

Characters: Clavis Lelouch x F!Reader

POV: 2nd person Genre: Fluff

Prompt #9: “Why would I be worried? I'm with you.”

Wordcount: 969

A/N: Here is Part 1 of the 2 part request for the lovely @venulus! This story is told from the reader's point of view, but we'll be seeing Clavis's thoughts soon enough XD Thank you for the request, my Clavis bosom buddy! Edit: Part 2 from Clavis's POV is out!

Warning: ***Spoilers for Clavis Romantic route end***

“Tell me, Cyran. Do they miss me back in Ye Olde Rhodolite?”

Cyran delicately set an aureate ceremonial sword at the foot of the bed and moved to pat stray lint off an illustriously bejeweled violet sash. “Unquestionably so. Not a day goes by without someone mourning the loss of their beloved third prince. I hear the gardeners are in a fit about lack of exercise, what with no trap-laying miscreants to chase out of trees and no spontaneous holes to fill.” 

“How delightful,” Clavis’s voice called from the closet in between ruffles of fabric. He emerged moments later swallowed in heaping embroidered robes of snow white, looking like the world’s largest and most spherical silkworm, though his face showed nary a trace of discomfort under the weight.

“No,” said Cyran simply, crossing the room.

“Why not?” Clavis protested as Cyran began peevishly removing layers with haste. “Do they not make me look illustrious and venerable? A flawless masterpiece to be shared with the world? Righteous and chaste and virtuous? The most distinguished gentleman of our time?”

“You got that last part right,” grumbled Cyran, unbuckling the seventh of a series of gilded belts Clavis had adorned his hips with. Clavis harrumphed and turned to the bed.

“And what do you think, my dear?”

You turned the page over in your hands. “Rhodolite must go to bed every night with tears in her eyes knowing her most enthusiastic wakeup call is miles away.”

“Ah, not that, darling. Though you are correct. No, I am referring to my extraordinarily extravagant ensemble!” Clavis said.

“You look great,” you said.

“You didn’t even look at me,” said Clavis.

You lifted your head and met his imploring gaze. Clavis had been stripped down to a basic white tunic, trousers, and a single belt. 

“You look great.”

“He does now,” said Cyran, stepping into the closet, a mountain of heavy discarded robes overflowing from his arms. Clavis ran a hand through his hair and approached your perch on the bed.

“What ever could be so important that you’d miss my grand entrance, my love?” 

“Your real grand entrance,” you said, showing him the document you had been reviewing. “The courtyard can only hold about five-thousand people maximum. I think we miscalculated.”

Clavis took the sheet, folded it, and set it on the stack with the others. “There is no mistake.”

“No mistake? Clavis, that document says we sent out ten-thousand invitations!” you said, reaching for the sheet again. Clavis grabbed your hand and threaded his fingers through it.

“No mistake,” he repeated. “We can have two identical ceremonies if needed, so the latecomers can catch the second.”

You closed your eyes and inhaled deeply through your nose. “And did you account for the possibility that they all decided to attend the first?”

“The more the merrier, then!” he said, beaming brilliantly at you with teeth as white as his outfit. You glowered in response.

“Now, don’t give me that look, my sweet. Does the idea of so many people at our doorstep frighten you? No need to worry, your charming Clavis will be by your side the entire—”

“The idea that we won’t be able to accommodate them all worries me, Clavis!” you yelled, pulling out of his grasp. “How will it look when we have to tell half our guests they’ll be sleeping on the floor?”

“You worry too much. I’m sure it will all work out, because what fun we’ll have today,” he said, reaching under your arms and lifting you into the air. He carried you to the windows and twirled around, smiling and giggling as you desperately held on to his shoulders. 

“Cakes and cookies and music and suits and gowns and dancing and lights and roses…” 

Your stomach churned as he spun faster, listing more and more delights with rising enthusiasm. 

“....And magic and joy and ladies and gentlemen and friends and family and—”

“What would your family say if they saw you mess up this badly today?” you cried, and everything stopped. You stared at each other for what seemed like hours, his hurt eyes boring into your soul, his haggard breath rising with each passing second. This was it. The real problem he’d been avoiding. 

“Ahem!”

Cyran had stepped out from the closet and unamusedly watched your staredown.

“We’re running late. I’ll head downstairs to greet our guests. Please help him finish getting ready, my lady.” And he left the room, you still-suspended in midair.

Clavis gently lowered you to the ground, wrapped his arms more snugly around your waist, and pulled you closer. You felt his lips tremble against your temple.

“They’ll be here. All of them,” you said. “As if they could stay away.” 

You reached around his shoulders and patted gently, embracing the erratic ticker of his heartbeat from both his front and back, lulling it back to its usual rhythm. 

“And what if they think it’s all a big joke?” he croaked. “How could you choose me as king? Me?”

“If they thought it was a joke, they wouldn’t have bothered sending their RSVPs,” you said, holding his head in your hands to face you. Morning sunlight streaming through the windows illuminated the tears splotched on his cheeks like two rivers of diamond. “And what an honor to attend the coronation of the first king of Lelouch. The illustrious and venerable. The righteous, chaste, and virtuous King Clavis.”

Clavis coughed a laugh and pressed his forehead to yours. You pretended he wasn’t doing it to hide more tears as you lightly rubbed your noses together, whispering more compliments in the tiny space between you two as he composed himself.

At last, he gave you a final squeeze and pulled back, looking out the window and wiping his eyes. You went to the bed to retrieve the sash and sword to give him some privacy, and by the time you returned to his side he was gasping and pointing to the grounds.

“Look look! It’s Chevalier! And Leon and Jin and the others! Darling, they came! They actually came!”

You suppressed your laughter and watched him happily jump up and down, trying not to imagine an excited leopard leaping for joy. 

“Does that mean you’re not worried anymore?” you said, maneuvering your arms to clasp the sword to his bouncing belt.

“Worried?” he asked, stopping in place. “Why would I be worried? I’m with you.”

I hope they'll show us the different coronations of the kings in an event someday. That'd be cool.

Tagging:@atelieredux@queengiuliettafirstlady@violettduchess@venulus@thewitchofbooks@leonscape@rhodolitesrose@venti-tangents@dear-sciaphilia@ikesenwritings@myonlyjknight @ladyofcrowsx

If you would like to be added or removed from my tag list, please send me an ask or a message.

[elisela]

if your still accepting requests and it hasn’t been taken, could you do grey sky + sterek + fluff or angst please 💕

pattern derek x stiles, post-canon also on ao3

---

If anyone asks Derek how he happened to end up living in the same city that Stiles did after nearly ten years of being out of touch, he tells them it was a coincidence. He’d left Beacon Hills around the same time they all did, lived with Cora on and off for some time, decided on Colorado for the accessible wilderness and was just as surprised as Stiles was to walk into a coffee shop one morning and see him standing there.

(The truth looks a little more like Derek keeping tabs on both Stiles and Scott no matter where they go, but he’s been removed from it enough that he knows it won’t get back to either of them, so that—the slight overprotectiveness, the worry—is something he’ll take to the grave.)

(It’s ingrained in him, he’ll admit, if he’s ever forced to say it. He can live without a pack, without having those ties to someone, but he’ll never truly be settled. And though the truth is that he never wants to set another foot in Beacon Hills again, if the situation was reversed and Stiles was the one still living there, he still would have chosen him over Scott in a heartbeat.)

Manufactured run-in aside, Derek didn’t have any further plans when it came to Stiles. The knowledge he was close would have been enough; his scent lingering in places Derek could visit, the edge of his laughter. He’d offered up his phone number and had been prepared to leave it at that, but Stiles at nearly thirty was both a completely different person and utterly the same, smiling a little softer at Derek but still displaying the same dogged persistence by showing up at his house later that night. Derek hadn’t asked him how he got the address and Stiles didn’t offer the information, just walked in with a pizza box in hand and said “Have you tried Audrey Jane’s? It’s the best, dude,” and didn’t leave until well past midnight.

That was two years ago. Any awkwardness has since melted away—and there had been plenty of it, moments when Derek would shut down and lock himself in his house, times Stiles would become irritable and snap meanly at him until Derek snapped back, at which point he’d look like someone tore his beating heart from his chest and treat Derek with kid gloves, which Derek hated almost as much—and in its place is just an easy companionship that Derek hadn’t ever hoped to have.

“So,” Stiles says, cringing as he flops back against the couch, “my house is flooded. Was flooded? I guess it happened a few days ago. I gotta go see how extensive the water damage is.”

Derek raises an eyebrow. “Margie said you had a leak, not that the house was flooded,” he says, glancing at the phone to remind Stiles that he could in fact hear every word of the conversation. Stiles waves his hand as if that distinction isn’t important, and Derek shakes his head and looks back down at his paper. “Well, go check it out then. Let me know if you think I can fix it or we can call a plumber when you get back.”

Stiles doesn’t move or make a sound, which is—odd, really, considering Derek had expected him to start negotiating for Derek to come along with him instead of waiting for a call. But Stiles is just looking at him, studying him, almost, with such concentration that his forehead is creased. “I haven’t been home in weeks,” he says, eyes flickering all over Derek’s face like he’s waiting for a cue. “If I didn’t keep forgetting to cancel the cleaning service I wouldn’t have even known.”

He hasn’t really been home in longer than that, but Derek doesn’t point it out. His guest room hasn’t been fit for guests since Stiles took it over months ago, when winter was gradually letting up into spring and the snow was finally melting. It’s been at least half a year since Stiles spent any time in his own house that wasn’t just stopping by to grab things he needed, and Derek is more than okay with having his single pack member constantly in his space.

“I turned down a date today,” Stiles says abruptly, sitting up straight and twisting; it’s so far from the conversation that Derek thought they would be having that he sets down the paper he was marking and gives Stiles his full attention. He has a—complicated relationship with the idea of Stiles in a relationship; he wants him to be happy, he wants him to find someone to spend his life with and have kids with and all those other things that he knows Stiles wants, but he’s also fairly certain that Stiles and his future partner aren’t going to want him hanging around as often as he’d like to be around. He doesn’t think he’s ever made that known, however, and Stiles has turned down dates from people he wasn’t interested in before, so he’s not sure why he’s hearing it now. “I told her I had a husband. Like—unintentionally. She asked me out and the first thing that came out of my mouth was ‘sorry, I have a husband’.”

Derek stares back at him. “That would be hard to take back,” he says slowly, still trying to figure out the point of this story. The other deputies have teased them about being life partners since Derek started coming into the station at odd times, an in-joke that grew when Stiles would invite people to visit at Derek’s house, with every time Derek called while he was at work to tell him he wouldn’t be home for dinner or to ask if he needed anything from the store. “If you explained—”

“I don’t want to explain,” Stiles says, looking tired all of the sudden. “That’s not the point.”

“I don’t know the point,” he admits.

Stiles’ shoulders drop a little as he sighs. “My point is that I think I’d like the husband,” he says, and although his voice is soft he’s still looking at Derek more intensely than he normally does. “Only with more—husbandly things. If that’s something you would be interested in.”

Derek breathes in through his nose, picks up the scent of anxiety and hope, takes in the grey sky outside and the glow of the Christmas tree set by the fireplace that throws a multitude of colors around the rooms as it blinks merrily. “I already put a roof over your head, what more do you want?”

There’s a moment when he thinks Stiles will bristle at the joke but after a few seconds where all Derek can hear is the pounding of his own heart he smiles, pressing his mouth closed to hide it. “Your ability to have dinner on the table when I come home leaves something to be desired,” he says, flopping back down like all his strings have been cut, cheek smashed into Derek’s bicep. “And I always thought if I had a smokin’ hot husband that he’d be shirtless a little more often.”

“Should have moved somewhere warmer in that case,” Derek responds, reaching back for the stack of papers he’s supposed to be grading. “Go check the house. I’ll make sure dinner is done when you get home.”

“I swear to God if it’s frozen burritos—” Stiles starts, shoving off him and to his feet, leaving the threat hanging empty between them. There’s a heartbeat and then Derek feels his chin being tilted up and Stiles kisses him, a soft press of their lips together that makes his breath catch in his chest at the gentleness imbued within it. It’s not sparks or fireworks, it’s a warmth growing in his chest, a settling of his heart; it’s perfect, because Derek’s never trusted things that burn, anyway. “Be back in an hour or so.”

He spends another five minutes on the couch after Stiles leaves, ostensibly grading a paper but really just staring at the words as they blur in front of his eyes until he can’t take it anymore and sets the whole stack aside to deal with in the morning. It doesn’t take long for him to kick into gear—he throws the casserole dish of shepherd’s pie he’d prepped in the morning into the oven, rearranges his dresser and closet to fit Stiles’ clothes in alongside his, and starts looking up marriage licenses and rings, because if Stiles is offering forever then Derek is damn sure going to take him up on it. He pulls his shirt up over his head when he hears the cruiser coming up the drive just because he can, and is dishing out food shirtless when Stiles walks through the door.

“You’re not freaking out,” Stiles says, eyes roaming over his body as he leans against the kitchen doorway. “Why aren’t you freaking out? Why are you agreeing?”

He’d thought there’d be a little more time before Stiles started getting anxious, but he’d known it was coming. “You want me to freak out?”

“No,” Stiles says, narrowing his eyes, “I just don’t know why you’re not. Granted your freaking out looks a lot like glaring at everything and not saying anything so you might have done that while I was gone—”

“I moved your things into my room,” he interrupts, and Stiles’ mouth drops a little. “There’s nothing to freak out about.”

“So you were just .. expecting this,” Stiles says, suspicious expression giving way to something more confused. “Because I didn’t even know what I wanted until this afternoon but I guess it’s not beyond the realm of possibility that you knew before I did what with all the enhanced abilities, and I guess I could see you not saying anything because you do like to occasionally fall into bouts of epic man-pain—”

“I wasn’t expecting anything,” he interrupts before Stiles can really get going and manage to insult the both of them to the point that they don’t want anything to do with one another for the rest of the night. He carries the plates to the table and motions for Stiles to sit. “You, here—that’s what I want. Why would it bother me if you were offering more?”

Stiles pauses with his hand on the refrigerator; Derek can’t see his expression, but he can hear the way his heart thumps wildly for a few moments until Stiles’ shoulders rise and fall with an exaggerated movement that belays deep breathing. “You’re gonna be the death of me, Derek Hale,” he says finally, dropping a bottle of sparkling water on the table before sinking down in his chair.

“Well, that’s probably always been true,” Derek says, and grins back when Stiles snorts and kicks him under the table. “Eat your dinner. It’s not very husbandly of you to turn your nose up at my hard work.”

[redrobin-detective]

The 101 Deaths of Danny Phantom

AO3 link

One of the first things people learned about dealing with ghosts, other than not to try and date them, is to never asks about their death or obsessions. That doesn’t mean the citizens of Amity Park aren’t curious though, especially about their resident ghostly hero and the confusing and concerning comments he sometimes makes.

“Are you okay?” Phantom asked Maisie as she shook and tried to hold back tears after that car had almost slammed into her. She sometimes joked about getting hit crossing the street of her college campus to pay her obnoxious loans but it was another thing entirely to almost experience it herself. Maisie was nearly twenty, she shouldn’t be comforted by someone younger than her little step sister but here she was, shaking like a lead and leaning into Phantom’s comforting, chilly touch. 

“Sorry,” she stuttered, “thank you, I’m sorry I’m just-”

“Hey, it’s okay to be upset that was very scary. The thought of dying is very scary.” Through her adrenaline and her tears, she took in the ghost’s unnatural glow, his faded, barely visible appearance and the fact that he was floating a foot off the ground. Maisie knows this ghost, this boy, knows more than she ever could about death. 

“And getting run over by a car sure is a bad way to go,” the ghost kid chuckled awkwardly, taking his cold hand off her shoulder to scratch at the back of his neck. “You should see how my dad drives or my mom or my sister if she’s running late enough,” Phantom paused in thought. “No one in my family should have a license now that I think about it. Anyway,” he dismissed with a wave. 

“My sister and I were getting ready to head out to school and my dad was backing out of driveway too fast and didn’t see us and uh, luckily I got my sister out of the way in time haha,” Phantom trailed off awkwardly. Was it because of the uncomfortable conversation or because he noticed her dawning horror.

Her best friend ran the community college’s Phan club so Maisie was a member by default. Phantom’s death was sometimes talked about late at night, everything from wrongful murder to a freak accident. She never in her worst nightmares imagined being him being runover in front of his own house by parental ignorance. It was so normal, a quick mistake and a life lost.

“Oh my god,” he said with an adorable little green blush. “Why am I babbling about that? You almost got hit by a car, I’m probably retraumatizing you or something. I should probably go get the jerk who almost hit you,” he said before disappearing into thin air. 

“Tia is not going to believe this,” she whispered to no one. All she knew is that for the rest of her damned life she was going to look both ways when crossing the street. She’d seen first hand what a single moment of reckless driving could cause.

XxX

Matthew, not Matt or Matty or Hughie, Matthew shivered from the cold. He was only in his boxers with little Pacman on them. It had been fine when he’d gone to bed considering it was mid-August but Phantom and this stupid flaming mecha ghost had tussled outside the summer camp he was working at. He could see some of the kids snickering at his state of undress though he was just extremely glad they were alive enough to disrespect him like this.

“Oh man, I’m sorry,” the ghost kid said with big, sad eyes that looked so human despite the fact that they were literally glowing. He looked around at all the snow and ice left over from his fight. “Jeez you guys must be freezing, I wish I could warm you all up but all I can do is make things colder.”

“S’okay,” Matthew said through his chattering teeth. “Teaching the kids how to start a fire was supposed to be next week but we can get a jump on it.” That got a smile out of the ghost and within a half hour, the other counselors were distributing blankets and hot beverages to the kids clustered around multiple fires. They didn’t seem particularly upset by the potentially fatal attack, Matthew will breakdown about that at a later time when he was alone. For now, he just smiled as the children chattered happily with the ghost while he cleaned up as much of the damage as possible.

“So you spend all day fighting ghosts?” Zoe asked with stars in her eyes.

“A lot of the nights too,” Phantom nodded, “I do other stuff but yeah it seems ghost fighting takes up most of my time.”

“Where’d you learn those cool powers?” Zuri asked, miming a punch.

“Comes with being a ghost,” Phantom shrugged, “my ice powers came in later though so I still struggle a bit with them but I’m getting better every day.”

“Why ice though?” Morris said with his cocked curiously to the side. “I see some ghosts use fire or shadows, why do you have ice?”

“Ah that’s a little personal,” Phantom chuckled but his posture was easy despite the invasive question. “Specialty powers like my ice require special circumstances and a certain uh connection to the ghost. Someone like me couldn’t use fire or electricity or plants, ice is in my soul, it’s who I am.”

Matthew paused in drinking his lukewarm coffee as a horrible thought came to mind. He’s been an outdoorsman all his life, practically from the time he could walk. He’d been a deep woods camping guide for a decade before switching to working at summer camps. But the years working in the relative comfort of a stable camp didn’t erase his knowledge of how unforgiving and deadly the woods in the winter could be. A grown man, much less a young teen, would freeze to death in 20 minutes if it was cold enough. 

It made sense for ghosts to develop powers related to their deaths. Had Phantom been one of the dozens of unfortunate kids he read about every year who ran away in the middle of winter only to found later as a frozen corpse. He eyed the boy’s snow white hair and frigid aura he exuded with mournful trepidation. God, what a horrible way to die. 

“I’d get chilly with ice powers,” Tabby said with a shudder, she held out her cup of cocoa. “You want some of my cocoa to warm you up?”

“No thanks,” Phantom said with a soft smile that was warm despite everything. “The cold hasn’t bothered me for a while.”

XxX

Ghost attacks may be the norm but, if there was one good thing that came out of whole mess it was the fact that violent human crimes went down drastically. So when the rare murder did happen, the shock and fear rippled through the whole town. 

Stanford Newton had only been sheriff of Amity Park for eight months after the last guy had gone gray overnight and moved to Florida the next day. It was a daunting position but one he bore proudly. This wouldn’t be his first murder investigation having initially cut his teeth as a beat cop in Chicago but it would be the first in Amity. And it certainly was the first in which the dead served in an active capacity.

“Amanda Chastain, 27. Officially she was a waitress down at Spengler’s Diner but she’s been picked up for prostitution twice in the last year,” Stan said calmly, ignoring the cold, angry presence over his shoulder. “History of polysubstance abuse as well, not that either of those things mean she deserved this.” Used, beaten to death and then dumped in the trash like yesterday’s paper. 

He wondered if she’d come back a ghost or if she’d finally get some peace this world hadn’t offered her. “We don’t have many leads right now, I’m afraid. Acting illegally as they are, there’s not a lot of resources these poor girls have to turn to.”

“I’ll find them,” The Phantom said with blazing conviction, his voice thick and sharp as ice. “I’ll find and bring them to justice and make sure no one else is hurt again.”

“I believe you,” Stan nodded, shutting his notebook as he finally turned to face the teenage superhero haunting his town. He can’t say he liked what he saw. The Phantom looked even less human than usual, his aura flaring and flickering like the foggy mist before a heavy snowstorm. His unnatural green eyes glowered, painting his too young face in a terrifying light. 

The kid looked furious, clearly taking this death to heart. He’d read the Fenton’s memos about obsessions and such but this seemed beyond that. “But don’t hurt anyone to do it, or yourself while you’re at it.”

“I won’t, I’ll make sure they’ll face human justice and don’t worry,” Phantom gave a snarling smile. “No mortal can hurt me, not like this,” he growled causing the hairs on Stan’s arms and neck to stand on end. He flew off after that, presumably to track down Amanda’s killer.

“Not like this,” Stan mumbled to him, pulling out his handkerchief and wiping his brow where a cold sweat had broken out. “Jesus Christ that poor kid.” Stan had seen plenty of murdered and mutilated bodies in his lifetime, some of them even kids. He just never got to talk to them after they’d had their life forcibly snatched away. It would explain the ghost’s near fanatical determination to save others, why he took a stranger’s murder so personally. 

“I hope your own murderer is behind bars,” Stan said as he tucked his handkerchief back into his coat pocket. “Or even six feet under, for killing a good kid like you.” Stan made his way back to his squad car so he could head back to the station and move forward with the official investigation. But he’d eat his hat if there wasn’t a stammering lowlife there by tomorrow ready to turn themselves in.

 Maybe after all this was settled down, he’d delve into some of the cold cases stacked in the cellar. Maybe in there he’ll find a picture of a smiling, carefree teen who’d disappeared and returned with the power now to ensure no one else suffered as he had.

XxX

“Yes, I know about the Phantom,” Luis Oliveira will say to anyone who so much as brings up the ghost kid. Locals know better by now but the tourists eat it up every time. He twists his finely combed mustache and gestures to the floor where his audience is standing. “He died right there oh ten or eleven years ago.”

Luis has worked his way all across the the United States since he emigrated from Brazil in the 70s. He finally settled in Amity Park about twelve years ago. He’d never intended to stay in the small Midwest town but the fatal shooting of a young customer kept his little corner market open.

“He was a nice kid, always said hi to me and paid in exact change. Was big fan of the snacks I made, would stop by after school and take half my inventory. He had big brown eyes and a crooked nose,” Luis would smile at the memory before closing his eyes and frowning sadly. “One day, he came late. His teacher made him stay after to go over a failed test, I remember he complained. He was pulling out his money when robber burst in, demanding my money. I fumbled for the register key, dropped it. I bent down to grab it and I hear shots going off. Two over my head, another right into the boy’s throat.”

Luis will hear the sound of that sweet boy’s guttural choking sounds as he drowned in his own blood until the day he himself died. The robber left after the shot, Luis called the police and held the young man’s hand as he died. The would be thief were never found and Luis never did learn anything about the boy who’d died on his floor for getting hungry after school.

“As soon as I saw Phantom on the TV,” Luis would say, perking up after his moment of somber grief, “I knew it was that boy come back. Those kind eyes, I’d recognize them anywhere. He’s never come here but one day he will and I will be able to pass on my regret on not being able to save his life that day.”

XxX

“I think he killed himself,” Mikey whispered to Lester during lunch period, angling his voice low. “The jocks may love Phantom for his powers but I just know he was one of us, an unwanted nerd. I’ve seen him chatting up a ghost I’m pretty sure is Poindexter, Casper’s suicide kid. They’re probably bonding over their similar deaths and the circumstances that led to it.”

“That’s pretty dark,” Lester whispered back. “I also get unpopular vibes from him but I don’t think he’s the time do uh do that to himself; he’s too stubborn and protective. But I bet he was the victim of a prank gone wrong. Dash locked Fenton in the Janitor’s closet last Wednesday, he got out okay somehow but maybe something like that happened to Phantom. He always looks kind of annoyed at the A-listers, maybe they remind him of old bullies.”

“Nuh-uh,” Clara said, pushing up her glasses with her middle finger. “The ghost kid totally got electrocuted or something. He was fighting that weather ghost and he sent lightning bolts his way and Phantom flinched. He fought the Ghost King and yet a little electricity scares him? It might not’ve even been a lightning strike but something manmade like a machine backfiring or something.”

“Get real,” Mikey scoffed, sipping his milk with an eyeroll. “I’m sure we’d have heard about some poor kid getting zapped to death; this town isn’t that big.”

“We’d have heard about a suicide too,” Lester noted with a wry grin.

“Shut up Mr. I base my theories around Fenton who’s a known weirdo”.

XxX

“I’m telling you, the ghost kid died of some debilitating illness,” Abbie McMillian, retired school teacher and three year reigning champ at the Tristate area’s Daylily Competition. She sipped her tea and spoke with as much confidence as she had back in the day wrangling Amity’s impressionable youths. “The superhero thing is clear wish childhood fulfillment, a chance to live and be free like he never got to in life. You see how happy and carefree that young man looks while flying? Clearly he spent his formative years sick and weak.”

“No way,” Greta von Martin frowned as she aggressively stirred her own tea to show her displeasure. “I worked in a hospital for close to 30 years and I know what chronically sick kids look like and Phantom doesn’t fit the bill. I will agree he’s carefree when he’s not battling spooks but he acts like a stupid teen. I’m telling you, the boy got into his parent’s liquor cabinet or took a few too many of whatever pill was going around his school. Tragic but something that happens every day.”

“Greta, dearie,” Abbie said with a pinched frown. “We’ve been friends since grade school and I love you like a sister but you are wrong and until you admit it, I won’t share anymore of my recipes.”

“You’re just being stubborn because you can’t see what’s right in front of you even after working with kids half of your life, Abbie, love,” Greta sniffed. “And you can kiss my grandson’s help weeding you garden goodbye until you relent.”

XxX

Perhaps one of the most human traits is curiosity, especially about what comes after death. Now the good people of Amity Park know a great deal about the dead so the lives before is what attracts their attention and none so more than the ghost boy. Maybe it’s because he’s their hero or maybe it’s because he’s so young. Or perhaps it’s because Phantom is such a mess of contradictions that it’s very hard to guess how the unfortunate boy met his end. But everyone has their own theories, from the mundane to the fantastic, some with evidence backing them up and others pure poppycock. 

But for all their curiosity, as much as it burns them to know, they’ll never ask. They don’t want to risk the powerful ghost’s wrath but, moreover, it seemed in poor taste. The boy risked his afterlife to keep them safe, they couldn’t ask what traumatic and miserable circumstances had led to this point.

And besides, it was so much more fun to look up at ghostly figure as he sped through the skies and wonder.

[iceprincessviviane]

Flowers of the peace

Pairing: c!Technoblade x Fem!Nymph!Reader

Type: Romantic/fluff; oneshot.

Warnings: mild swearing, mention of angst and injury and silly jokes created by me.

Summary: Technoblade is travelling to the center of smp to get some buisness done. He met Y/n and finally decided to talk with her about a very important case for him. Including more characters.

Words in red colour are Technoblade's voices.

My first x reader fic, spontaneous one.

Today was a quite warm day even in tundra, small layer of snow was covering the ground and sky was half covered by the clouds, which weren't moving a lot. Around was very quiet despite the time, it was almost noon. Animals were resting or sleeping, deadly hound lied calmly around. It seemed, it was such a lazy day. Technoblade went outside holding small backpack and putting something into it. He tied his hair into small bun, rest of them was falling on his back and he was wearing part of casual armor. Phil seeing that, also went outside.

"Hi mate, where are you going?" He asked curiously with gentle smile.

"I'm heading to main Smp part. I have some buisness to finish with Ranboo. I hope in that time it won't be crowded." He responeded and closed backpack.

They both looked at old Ranboo's home in mountain wall. Actually there still were some basic stuff, active farm and some villagers. Enderman hybrid moved to his and Tubbo's mansion in Snowchester two weeks ago. They kinda missed him, but he promised to visit them a lot of times and even stay for some cold weather and fresh air. Also he was still involved in Syndicate stuff.

"Be careful mate then." Philza said with serious tone.

'We miss Enderboy.' 'Let's do it fast.' 'Who will we meet else?'

Technoblade nodded and took Karl. He put a small backpack near the saddle and check everything. Diamond armor was shinning brightly in the sunlight.

"I will don't worry, I just hope to not meet Tommy..." His eyes narrowed. He still didn't forget and forgive young boy.

"Well just avoid bench area. You are going to meet Ranboo in Snowchester?"

"He said that he will be around Community House or Prime path."

"Tell him my sincere greetings." Phil smile widened.

Technoblade jumped at Karl and waved to his companion. Soon he was headed to main Smp part. Today wasn't the day for using a portals. Beautiful weather was conductive for horse riding. Karl seemed to be happy at sudden trip.

}*{

After a two hours Technoblade reached the Community House. He could go to Snowchester first, but honestly he wanted to avoid that area, which smelled like government. He dismounted Karl and took his bridle. Not a chance leaving his horse alone. Here was much warm then in tundra, not coulds and even wind stopped. Around wasn't even a single soul, so he sighted and started to walking down on Prime path. Karl was complelty calm, so he trusted him, but checked his sword, if he can take it fast. When he got near to Tommy's dirt house, he heard Tommy's loud laughing. After reaching the top of the hill he spotted Bench Trio standing there and chatting. Suddenly three pair of eyes looked at him. There was dead silence. Tubbo moved near to Ranboo when Tommy put a hand on Axe of Peace, which hanged of his bolt. They don't have armour, clearly having a good time in this lazy day. Technoblade nodded to them.

"What are you doing here?" Tommy asked with sharp tone.

Since Dream have been in the prison Smp was more calm, most people was minding their buisness, the biggest war was over and it seemed like everyone sighted with relief. Even now this Eggpire cleaned awful vines. Tommy started building his hotel, none was fighting.

"I came here to finish buisness." Techno responed slowly moving his eyes on Ranboo.

Tall teenager looked at his clock, gave himself a facepalm and sighted.

"Oh I am so sorry, I wasn't watching the time..." He said with embarrassment.

"What the fuck man? What deal did you make with him?" Tommy spoke with anger.

'Why he need to be so loud?' 'Just make it done.' 'Cut him.'

Technoblade moved a little bit closer and Ranboo started to search something in his backpack, mumbled to himself.

"Oh... hi everyone...!"

On the path leading to La'Manhole now was standing Y/n with basket full of field flowers and some saplings of roses, tulips and pansies. Her light dress was waving a little on sudden wind and bright smile caused everyone to smiled back.

"Hi Y/n!" Tubbo said and get closer to look at flowers. "Where did you get them?"

"Filed flowers around the... La'Manburg and saplings are from my own flowerbends. You asked me to bring some to your garden and rooms." She responed slowly.

"Oh yes! We asked Foolish of possible ways to decorate garden and flowers for a bees!" Tubbo said with excitement.

When it comes to the bees, Tubbo could talk over and over. Y/n was patience and describe in details flowers which she brought. Meanwhile Tommy moved his eyes again on Technoblade only to rise eyebrows with surprise. Piglin hybrid was like frozen, carefuly observing Y/n. Teenager lips formed into mischief smile.

"I found it!" Ranboo screamed in victory, holding something like gold in his big hand.

Technoblade snapped back to reality and nodded to Enderboy, to move away. He didn't want rest to know, what about deal is. They moved to bench. Karl snorted a little bit.

"Here it is." Ranboo opened his hand, Totem of Undying was inside. Technoblade smiled and nodded to him with satisfied smile.

"As we agreed emeralds and netherite ingot."

They made an exchange, Technoblade quickly hid Totem in his pocket and Ranboo put stones and ingot inside his backpack.

"Pleasure making buisness with you." Blade said with teasing tone.

"You too and I have more, if you want."

" We will see in the future."

Enderman hybrid moved his eyes on his husband and Y/n, there were still chatting peacefuly. Tommy was listening quietly and seemed that he lost interesting at their deal.

'Finally!' 'Let's go home.' 'Maybe stay for a while...'

"Deal is done?" Tommy asked loudly causing Tubbo and Y/n to look at Technoblade and Ranboo.

"Yes. We are done." Piglin hybrid confirmed in neutral voice.

Ranboo moved closer to group, leaving Technoblade with Karl. They stepped again on path after that.

"I think we can head to Snowchester then. Y/n has everything to make gardening and I am willing to help her!" Tubbo clapped hands.

"Yup. I am going to choose my room finally." Tommy emphasized last word strongly.

"Oh you shloud do the same Y/n. As we promised, you can decorate it as you wish." Ranboo said with warm smile.

Y/n lifted head and her eyes meet Techno's. His cute ears dropped a little, but he moved closer to them. Tommy stepped a little to avoid crash with Karl. Soft smile appeard on Y/n lips.

"Technoblade."

"Y/n."

Bench Trio silenced immediately, they could feel the tension in the air. After La'Manburg destruction Y/n lost her home, actually she was neighbor with Ranboo there, but she managed to build one small house in wild fields full of flowers, which was quite away. The closest things were Kinoko Kingdom and Niki's Underground City. Sometimes she wandered to La'Manber ruins and after that usually hanging up with Tommy. She visited Ranboo couple of times in tundra and even had a small talk with Phil. But when Technoblade showed up... they shared awkward silence and shy glances, which were speaking instead of words.

In his retirement they spent a lot of time together, despite the cold in tundra. Her peacefuly pressence caused voices to melt, only quiet whispers appeard. When she was speaking, they were always silence. Technoblade could listen and observe her for ages. They were so diffrent, but something connected them and attraced them to each other. She was standing with Phil on balcony, holding his hand so hard and tears streaming from her beautiful eyes, when Technoblade have been lead to execution. He later told him that Y/n almost fainted when he survived and escaped. She stayed in threshold, knocking sotfly at cottage doors, same day, late night and silence around. When he opened, he immediately put a finger on her mouth and whispering explained that Tommy somehow escaped exile and was sleeping in cellar. So Y/n said nothing, when Technoblade let her in, just hugged him so tightly and burried her face in his chest. With smelling her scent, he calmed himself and slowly forget about rage and happenings on that day.

But after Doomsday everything changed. Technoblade was busy with revenge, deep inside he didn't want to involved Y/n for her safety... but they moved away from each other. She need to build new house, didn't want to completly leave her friends around. Especially when Tommy and Tubbo found in her big comfort. She visited Tommy in exile couple of times, always bringing warm words and usefull advices. After Discs Finale, when Dream have been put into a prison, they needed her a lot. Tommy would never confessed that he had nightmares about Tubbo's death and himself being trapped in cell. Technoblade was busy with forming Syndicate, spending days on planning, building and searching stuff. He heard from Ranboo how Y/n was doing, but there always weren't time to talk.

And now they were here.

'We miss her angelic voice.' 'Stop staring, do something.' 'Stab Tommy.'

"I really don't want to interrupt this strange moment, but..." He couldn't even end, because Technoblade stepped at his foot. His shoes had small heels and was shod with metal.

Y/n giggled softly breaking eye contact with Technoblade and blushed a little bit.

"Can we talk?" Blade asked with deep voice.

"Of course." She nodded then handed her basket to Tubbo. He immediately straigthed his back, because of this important task. Technoblade gave without hesitation Karl's bridle to Ranboo, which eyes expanded and he grabbed it with his full strenght. When horse would run away... oh boy.

"It looks like we got important tasks." Tubbo said with full serious in his voice.

Ranboo nodded to him, when Tommy literally rolled his eyes.

Technoblade and Y/n moved slowly and silently aside, stepping away from path and walking on grass. She faced the sun, pulling her hair together, it laid freely on her back. Some strands still stayed on her face and Technoblade had to use his all strenght to resist taking them off. He just couldn't. Her scent full of flowers reached his nose, taking deep breath felt like heaven.

"Weather is very good." He started slowly and little unsure.

Y/n turned back to him with shy smile, studing hia posture. "Oh yes, it's warmer this days. My flowers age growing fast and I really enjoy the sun." She glanced at him. " Isn't too hot for you in this cape?"

"Well, I am still living in tundra and come on, style is breathtaking "Technoblade spread a little his arms.

Y/n could easily spotted part of armor on his arms and legs. It wasn't his best one, but he was still prepared for any fight. Yes, he looked very good, handsome. She couldn't help her slighty blushing cheeks.

"Are you moving to the mansion?" Techno finally asked, his voice was dead serious.

Y/n looked directly at his eyes with surprise. She didn't expect such a question. "No, I mean they offered me room, to stay in longer visits or if I would like to have a nap. I really enjoy their company."

He made a step closer and lean down, almost forgot how small she was compared to him. They both felt burning glances of Bench Trio.

"I miss you." He whispered honestly.

'We are missing her voice, scent and pressence.' 'We need her.' "We want her.'

"I... I miss you too." She responded quietly.

Pleased smile crawled at Technoblade's lips. Deep inside he was really happy about that, but didn't want to show it in front of Bench Trio. Y/n looked down with sudden shyness.

He took gently her small, compared to his hand. She squeezed lightly his fingers in response. "Would you like to...?"

"Y/n! We need to go, hurry up!" Tubbo screamed while was holding her basket.

"Yeah come one, we have a lot of stuff to do!" Tommy agreed.

Technoblade sighted after this rude cut, but Y/n shrugged with helplessness and playful smile. She hugged him tightly for goodbye, his second hand rested on her flabby waist.

"Meet me here after sunset." She whispered before letting him go.

He nodded before he let go of her hand. Y/n waved to him and went to Trio Bench. Ranboo gave Techno Karl's bridle. He observed while group was heading to Snowchester, then he jumped at horse and started to moving into tundra's direction.

}*{

Technoblade left Karl in hurry, then almost ran into a cottage. Phil frowned observing this from his window, but then shrugged and went take care of his cases. An hour passed and he heard some suspicious sounds from Techno's home, also him swearing. He decided to see what is going on, so went outside and knocked loudly. His friend opened. "Hi Phil, I'm a little busy right now..."

"What happend mate?" Winged man asked looking inside.

"I need to clean whole area..." He sighted with awkward smile.

"But why?"

Technoblade said nothing, it was a little too early to talk about it. "You... need some help honestly?"

"I will be so greatful!" Techno said and went beck to cleaning. Actually he successfuly tided first floor and kitchen, for now put food into a chest and cups into cupboard.

"Chests in magazine too?" Phil asked looking at his friend with confusion. Technoblade made facepalm. "I completly forgot about them... she would like to have order there!" He dropped everything and went down. His companion rose eyebrows with surprise. She?

}*{

Heading second time to main Smp part was faster and full of unsure feelings for Technoblade. Karl seemed to be happy of another trip. When they again reached top of the hill, she was there. Y/n stood near bench in his old crimson cloak, hemmed by fur, watching the sunset. Slowly crimson glow was turned into grey. Horse snorted and she turned head to greet him with warm smile. Technoblade responded with lazy smile and dismount Karl. Moving slowly to her, spotted that she was holding avaraged size, lether backpack and near the bench was closed chest.

"Hi again." Blade said with smile. "I am little bit late but I hope that you wasn't waiting long."

"I actually just came here. Boys let me left mansion three hours ago." She giggled softly.

"You got your room in mansion?"

"Yes... we decorated it with Ranboo's and Tubbo's furnitures."

"So... you have in this chest more personal stuff to put there?" Technoblade asked taking deep breath.

Y/n ignored the question and smiled softly to him. "What did you want me to ask earlier?"

"Well... I think it doesn't matter now." His shoulder dropped.

She looked directly into his eyes. "It matters, because the answer is yes."

Technoblade moved closer with visible confusion. "What?"

"Yes. I am ready for a trip, I have this cloak if it happen to be very cold and even have gloves in pocket."

He studied her figure quickly, under cloak she was wearing warm, woolen dress, completly diffrent that early, light one. High boots and hair braided tightly.

"No." Technoblade looked at her in disbelief.

Y/n nodded and her smile widened. In a blink of eye piglin hybird hugged her tightly. She rested her head against his chest, feeling heat from his body.

'She is going with us.' 'We can't belive.' 'Hurry up, before someone will show up.'

"Let's go, you have to be tired." Technoblade said after a few minutes. He took her chest and pinned it to saddle, Karl stayed calmly. She pated his neck, smiling softly. Blade mounted horse and offer her his hand to help. She grabbed it strongly and sat down sideways.

"Karl can lifted us both?" She asked unsure.

"He lifted heavier things than you sweetheart, you can belive me, he will be good." Techno smiled, he always was impressed by her caring way.

Y/n hugged his waist and again rested her head against his chest. The trip was quietly, they enjoyed each other pressence, when they reached tundra, night fell and snow started slowly rain. Finally they stopped in front of Technoblade's house. Deadly hound didn't even react to new person nearbay and bears was sleeping peacefuly around. Piglin hybrid first dismounted Karl and help Y/n by grabbing her waist and put her on the ground. She nodded in gratitude and grabbed his hand. He took her chest and they reached the stairs.

"You didn't introduce me new visitor?" Phil's voice caught them near doors. Winged man stood in his threshold with crossed arms and playful smile.

"Hi Phil." Y/n said and blushed hardly.

"Tomorrow my friend. You shloud go to the sleep old man." Technoblade teased him.

"I hope you will be gentelman and offer lady a separate bed." Phil winked to them and then went inside his house. "Goodnight lovebirds."

Blade rolled his eyes and opened doors for Y/n. She went inside and looked around carefuly. Nothing changed at all, but maybe one thing...

"You... cleaned whole house." She giggled softly.

"Oh yes and I even created some spare place in cellar for your flowers." He put her chest on the ground and closed door. Their eyes met. Technoblade quickly had covered the distance between them, then cupped her face and gently pressed their lips together. Y/n breathing quickened, same as his heartbeating. After a kiss, their hands found themselfes, when Techno lean his forehead against her.

"I love you." He whispered softly.

"I love you too." She responded quietly.

'We love her.' 'We are going to take care of her.' 'Never, ever let her go again.'

[saturatedboy]

Could I please request a one shot of Donna crushing hard on a fem SO who’s terrified of her bc she’s a lord and has all these scary rumors about her but Donna is determined to win her heart even though the poor girl is as a skittish and meek as a tiny rabbit in the wild

Donna Beneviento x F!Reader

This ended up being longer than I anticipated but I do hope you enjoy!

Words: 3.9k

House Beneviento. The name had always sent shivers down your spine when you heard the other adults talk about it. You were just a female young adult with a liking towards flowers that would grow and intoxicated you with their scent. The stereotypical feminine liking towards flowers had most certainty made you the eye-candy for all the boys but you never seen yourself liking any of them back. All your life you had lived in the Village of the Shadows, you had never caught any feelings for the opposite sex. It was a strange to the elder women, they used to try pair you up with a match but every time you had refused their offering of a male towards you. Sometimes you felt as though you had put your family to shame but there was always another part of you telling you you had nothing to be ashamed off. This was you, you will choose who to love and if you never want to love or just couldn't, you were willing to accept that.

Recently, some things had been off with the Village and it's civilisation. You knew better then to question your religion on worshipping Mother Miranda as you had found comfort in knowing that someone out there was willing to protect you- too bad those days were gone and well, that was when you were just a child reaching the age of 7. Now, age 19, you've came to consider the down sides and the strange disappearance of some in the Village.

"(Y/n) my darling, would you please go collect some herbs?" Your mother had called from the kitchen as you had sat pondering in your own thoughts about the strange noises you would hear outside on a night. Having your head sat on your hand with an elbow on the table, you turned your head to face your mother who was stood with a soft smile and faint beads of sweat dripping down her forehead from cooking over the fire.

"Doesn't the elders go gather the herbs mother?" You questioned her as you move your head off your hand and decided to get up and ready for your journey after being requested by your mother. Your mother however was already caught up back in her work of cooking, completely ignoring you. You sighed with sagged shoulders and moved to collect your white cloak which had been tainted with mud at the bottom. "I'll see you soon mother," You spoke as you paced yourself to the front door and swung it open, being greeted by the swift coldness of the air.

Stepping onto the snow, you breathed in the crisp frost and stepped forward to begin your journey near the forest. Normally the elders would go collect the herbs but seemingly because you knew the area from flower picking, you are now the perfect fit to do it. Pulling your cloak closer to your body, you lifted the hood and let it sit on your head and shoulders and the rest of it draped down and covered you up to your ankles. Your breath had left faint clouds in front of you, making patterns as it swirled. This wasn't the best weather to be out in but you hoped your beige cotton dress would keep you warm enough.

As you walked through the village, you tended to ignore everyone. Their looks on you made you feel so left out. You were the only women of age who hadn't been together with a single boy of your age division. It frustrated you that such social thoughts that a women should be together with a man always made you mad. For the name of Mother Miranda, why couldn't some people in the village accept some don't want to love and some rather love someone the same gender. There was nothing wrong with choosing someone to love- but you supposed it was like this because the population of the village was going down and repopulating the village would be needed. You didn't like the idea but it was something you were taught at a young age. Slipping through tight areas, you made your way towards the the rocky bridge where you would cross to get to the forest where most of the herbs had grown.

You hoped you would find some near the front entrance.

Luck wasn't something you had, you had always been careful when you were younger making sure to never let any superstition past your mind. Any newly made shoes on the table? You would move them. Someone knocked over a mirror? You would of tried your best to catch it. You were always so careful when it came to things like that. It just made you more adorable in the eyes of those who wanted to have you for their own personal needs and you knew what personal needs they wanted. Reason why you realised you didn't have a lot of luck was the fact that the herbs you needed for medicine wasn't there. They had been cut clean and most likely would grow in another month. "Looks like I have to go further in" You whispered to yourself, taking down your hood and lifting the front of your dress up so you could climb over tree roots and not trip over a small pebble. What you didn't know when travelling further into the forest was a pair of watchful eyes...more than a pair of watchful eyes.

Humming a soft tune, you walked past the creepy dolls that were hung by the branches and got ready your small sheers to cut the herbs when you found them. Shivers crawled down your spine as you looked around, you hated those dolls with a passion- well they were cute some of them but mostly scary in your eyes. Everyone knew who's territory you were in.

Lady Beneviento's. The lady who apparently practically controlled the dolls and would use them to her command. She was a Lady. These were the rumours that had passed about your village of your time living there, which was your whole life. You knew every story about Beneviento, you couldn't help it. You had to know all about the stories to know who ruled over you and who you should worship, it wasn't a choice. Searching more, you were lucky enough to come across the correct herbs you needed, they were under a large tree with some small daisies growing underneath it from the sheltered floor by the leaves. Mentally cheering, you jogged towards the tree and leaned down, plucking at the stems of the herbs with your sheers. Whilst you was doing this, you didn't realise the lady dressed in black behind you behind a tree with a hand over a hyper-active doll clamping her mouth shut

She was intrigued at your sudden appearance. She had left her manor in search of a quiet day out seemingly the coldness would pick up very soon and she just needed that air to clear her mind. What she didn't expect was a new person to be walking in her territories and almost in the centre as well. Weirdly, she felt appreciated at the new accompany but she didn't like the fact you came and starting to pluck at her plants she didn't appreciate. She had to keep Angie quiet so she doesn't get spotted, maybe you would leave after you plucked them.

Back to yourself, you placed the freshly cut herbs into a pocket that was in your dress. Yes, you owned a practical dress with pockets which you were more than thankful for. Standing up and stretching, you turned around and smiled at your accomplishment. You felt so proud of yourself being able to come far into the Beneviento's area and being able to be brave enough to not back out. Raising your hand to your hair, you brushed out the knots and started to skip your way back home, humming once again.

Watchful eyes had followed you back to the bridge. She was caught off guard with your smile, how free you looked and how graceful you had skipped. Your humming had became a melody to her that hit all the right notes, it attracted a faint heat to rise to her cheeks. "Are you really acting like that?" The doll had whispered to her owner, staring at the black veil. The owner tilted her head to the side, showing that she was rather confused. "If you want her, quickly let us grab her and she can become out new playmate." The doll wiggled her way out of her owners arms as she had decided to go deep into thought.

Playmate? Playmate meant life to her...you being her playmate struck lightning to her heart and made her start to fidget with her fingers. A pretty being like you- no an enchanting- no...there was no words to describe how beautiful you were in her eyes. You were just so perfect, prettier than any goddess ever. You were fair like a doll, your skin looked so delicate to touch, your eyes glistened with a shine that glossed over your huge pupils. How was someone like you created? Someone that had melted any cold around her own heart. Who needs that boring playmate who was already half dead back at her mansion when she could have you.

Just as you were about to step foot on the bridge, a sudden movement of the wind picking up behind you had made you turn your head. At first you felt dizzy as your turned, your vision began to blur and was soon covered with black dots. The last thing you ever saw was the Lady dressed in black.

"she's waking up~!" A voice had rang in your head causing you to scrunch up your nose and scrunch your already shut eyes closed. The voice was high pitch, much louder than any young girl's voice. Using your hands to feel around you, you felt soft silk under your touch. Opening your eyes barely, you were greeted with a a grey tinted white above you as you were laid down. Closing your eyes to get rid of any excess blur, you reopened them and and breathed out heavily.

"What's going on..." Your voice came out hoarse, making it sound like you hadn't drank in days.

"Maybe we knocked her out a little hard?" Again the high pitched voice had said. You were curious, your mind always got the better of you but your shyness always lingered. You stayed put, staring up at the ceiling as you could hear movement being made around you along with the sound of something pattering against what you could only think of to be the floor. Maybe wood?

As you were about to speak up again and ask where you were, you jumped slightly at the touch of something small touching your ankle. Heaving your body up quickly, you was met with a doll dressed in a wedding gown holding onto your left ankle. You swallowed back a lump in your throat and raised a hand to your mouth, slightly biting down on it on hopes of not to scream. However that didn't go as plan as a small whimper came from your mouth. You quickly moved your body up on what you could see to be a bed and backed away right to the top of it trying to make distance between the doll and yourself. The doll laughed at your actions and you pulled your knees up to your chest. You wanted out. Where were you? Why are you here with this doll. You just wanted to go back home...

More noises came into the room. The small patters against the floor accompanied with larger ones had caused you to duck your head into your arms in fear. If that doll was here, then that must mean the Lady was here too. Those stories of the Manor of Beneviento came running back into your mind. You were here, your escape far gone. You were going to die here.

A sudden cough made you flinch further into your arms and the laugh of the doll had quietened down. "You may leave Angie." The new voice had spoke. The voice held such innocence yet it sounded like a grown women who had seen more than enough. More patter noises went away just as it first came. Thinking you were now safe, you raised your head up to only be met with the women dressed in black you saw from the forest. Tears had already sprung from your eyes and you shook your body, repeating the word 'no' out of fear. Not knowing what to do, Donna- the lady dressed in black- had sat at the end of the bed and just stared at you. You could feel sleep pull against your eye lids wanting you to sleep but knowing that the women you heard rumours about killing people did not sit good in your head, not to mention she was in the same exact room with you.

It took a while but you eventually calmed down, heavy breaths leaving your throat as you stared at her. You felt so small to be near someone who had loads of authority over you. You felt powerless, feeling like a small bunny next to her. "Its okay" She spoke, placing her hands onto her lap sitting up straight. You stayed quiet, going back to biting your lip feeling the taste of slight blood. "I have no intentions of hurting you."

You felt tears once again sting your eyes and your vision had blurred. You just wanted to go back home. Panicking at your crying, Donna had stood up and ran to your side scaring you at the same time. She pulled you into a close hug and rested your head on her chest. Slowly she petted your head, stroking you hair and running her fingers through it. Although the touch was strange to happen, you couldn't help but fall against her feeling weak under any power she had. You were nothing but a plaything to her, that's what you knew. However in her eyes you were the most perfect doll to ever walk and talk. Your tearing soon stopped, although you had been lost in thought for a while that you failed to notice your own hiccups.

Under the black veil, Donna had been smiling at the contact and the way you were responding. She felt your weight against her and felt her heart flutter. Such a precious person against her. She didn't know your name, your likes or anything about you but she wanted to with your permission. She wanted to know what colours you likes, if you liked dresses or if you'd prefer a suit. She wanted to dress you up in many clothing with your permission. For the first time ever, Donna had felt as though maybe the world was truly turning in her direction. You were so adorable even if you had tears in your eyes. She'd make them stop, oh she would do anything to make them stop but she knew she couldn't do anything. She knew she was part of the problem but she'd make sure you warm up to her. She would make sure you would understand her and maybe even became friends...maybe even more.

She trailed her hand from your hair to your cheek, you had fell asleep not to long ago from exhaustion and comfort from the Lady of the Manor. Donna sighed deeply, closing her eyes under her veil and pulling you even closer. Your soft snores had caused a gentle laugh to escape her lips. Surely you didn't have to go back where you came from? No, Donna wouldn't let you. She would keep you, hat's what she decided. Sure you were scared but she was more than happy to work on that with you. She would make sure you wouldn't be scared of her in a while, she couldn't have you if you were. Although Donna had felt an instant connection between the both of you, she was a very patient women when it came to wanting something she wanted. She'll just wait for you to love her, he wouldn't force you into anything. Oh the ideas that spilled into her mind about spoiling you with clothing and toys, there was so many.

Unconsciously, you turned to face her fully in your sleep. Your face was red from the tears that had spilled but you seemed calm when you were sleeping. Like a bunny...just like a bunny. Your nose would twitch every now and again as Donna watched you closely, holding you against her. Mentally Donna was squealing, you were so sweet! So different from others. Her old playmates would refuse to sleep and end up dying because she hadn't had any connection with tem but now, you had a serious connection with her and she wasn't going to let you go any time soon.

And she didn't. But you didn't mind. The day after you woke up, you were left to stay in that same room, with food and water on the side table, for a total of a week before you had decided it was time to walk about and brave your journey. You were worried about your family. Did they forget about you? Did they think you were dead? Why go back if it has been so long since you went back home.

When you left that small room, you were instantly surrounded by the small dolls. You were going to scream but the sound stopped in your throat when you saw them holding what seemed to be clothing towards you. A small note was written and placed onto of them. Crouching down, you gently lifted the clothing out of the doll's hands along with the note and out of curiosity, you gently patted the top of the doll's head. The doll jumped in excitement and jumped onto you, making you yelp in the process, and climbed to place itself on your shoulder. Calming down and gathering your breath, you walked back into your room and placed the clothing om the bed, grabbing the note to read first. The doll on your shoulder looked down at the note too.

Miss,

I am sure you are very confused on what's happening but I just couldn't leave you. You had me at first glance, you are a perfect being you know? So fair and graceful, my gosh your indeed a heart stealer. I won't force you into anything but I think it's more professional to be upfront about feelings than to hide them away. The clothing provided should hopefully be in your size maybe- but If not to do worry for I'll change them for you. I really hope you like them.

Your sincerely, Donna Beneviento

You placed the note down and looked towards the clothing. Gently picking them up, you saw it was a white dress with a silver embroidery pattern hand sowed into it. You felt your heart miss a beat. The Lady created something for you. Surely this was kindness right- no you wouldn't question it. It was sweet of her. You started to think that maybe you should apologise to her. After all you did cry and more than likely disturbed her day. Her actions for you showed she wasn't a killer at all like some of the rumour of the Village would say. They sounded made up. A killer wouldn't make clothes for their victims...and the word 'feelings' popped back into your mind. A lady has feelings for you...you. Your heat beat had started again and sped up a lot. This creation of her for you was so generous. Something you hadn't witness a lot growing up.

Gently placing the doll that was on your shoulder onto the bed, you quickly changed into the clothing provided and folded your dirty clothing up to place at the end of the bed you had been staying in. Picking the doll back up, you placed them on your shoulder and walked back to the door to open it and then step outside of it. The place was rather big, quiet a few hallways from what you could see. "Hey buddy," You spoke to the doll on your shoulder. "Where is the Lady, I would like to apologise for my actions." You watched as the doll looked around first before pointing down the hallway. You followed where the doll pointed and soon ended up in a room where a desk sat at one far corner and a green leather sofa had been placed facing what seemed to be a projection. Sat on the sofa was the Lady, it seemed she was caught up in her work as she was sewing a patch up on one of the doll's clothing.

You coughed to gain her attention.

She turned and for the first time, you saw her with her veil up. Her face said it all, she stood up quickly accidently throwing the doll in her hand on to the ground and reached the back of her head to pull her veil over. "Please," You pleaded quickly, raising your hand up in a 'stop' emotion. "It's okay, I don't mind ma'am." You said using your manners. She stopped reaching to pull her veil back on and faced to stare at you with a small smile dancing on her lips.

"Are you sure?" She asked, raising her own hand to cover what seemed to be scarring from something. You nodded and folded your hands in front of you. Slowly you bowed, showing respect and spoke softly.

"I apologise for earlier this week, I had no right to be so scared of you. My apologise for my disruption. I hope I didn't cause you too much trouble." As you were still bowing, a hand had grabbed your chin and a pair of lips had met your cheek as your head was risen. You felt you face heat up at the contact, it was such a soothing move and it made you longing for more of her touch.

"There isn't a need to apologise, for I would accept any mood you were in." She said as her voice was so close to your ear. You inhaled her scent, the smell of herbs and a smell of roses were diffused off her clothing. You felt her touch once again, this time she had grabbed your hands gently and held them, rubbing her thumbs on the back of your hands in a calming matter. "Would you like to join me and my friends for lunch?" She asked as she quickly moved her hand once again to brush a stray hair from your face. Without using your words you had nodded to her request, making her smile in delight.

"You're smile is very pretty ma'am." you spoke without thinking, not even realising what you had said. Donna was more than happy to hear you speak, your voice was far prettier than your humming but either way she felt the same feelings as she had before.

"What is the fair ladies name?" She asked you, placing her hands on your hips as you shyly looked down at them resting there.

"My name is (Y/n) Ma'am." You said with formality.

"Such a beautiful name," Donna whispered, going back to touch your hand and raise it to her lips to gently kiss it. You was taken back at the sudden action once again, however you did not refuse it.

Again you wanted her to to hold you, just like she wanted to have you.

[smediumsmeatbae]

Be Mine

PAIRING: Andy Barber x reader

SUMMARY: As you prepare yourself for valentine's day alone, Andy has other plans. 

WORDS: 1209

WARNINGS: lite swearing (b/c Andy hello), sexual themes but no smut, fluffiness that is probably tooth rotting sweet, a smiiiiiidge of angst if you squint. This is post Defending Jacob but an alternate timeline so it doesn't spoil the ending, but events are mentioned. 

A/N: it's been a minute! First this is for the Hoelentines Challenge hosted by the amazing team of: @amythedvdhoarder @chrissquares @drabblewithfrannybarnes. Thank you so much for hosting! I was asked to do a fic for @thecornerlot . I hope you enjoy it! I had fun writing it. 

This is my first Andy fic so be kind y’all. :) 

As always, please do not share this work outside of Tumblr without my express written permission. 

Tags will be in the reblog. 

Likes are amazing. Comments and reblogs are better. (And keeps content fresh!)

Masterlist 

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It was so cliche to be single and hate Valentines Day, yet there you were on a miserable Thursday, getting coffee, hate, hate, hating the day. What was even worse, was that it was pouring down freezing shards of rain, and you had gotten practically soaked just coming from your office a half a block away. Boston around that time of year was usually covered in a blanket of beautiful snow. Snow you were prepared for. Snow you could handle. Not the stuff out there, and especially without an umbrella. You inwardly groaned as you took a sip of the latte you had ordered, hoping the rain would die down soon. 

While you were seriously contemplating taking an Uber back to your office to keep from getting even more drenched, Andy Barber strolled into the cafe, umbrella in hand. 

Andy and you had met at a small law firm. You were a paralegal for one of the partners and he had just joined, needing something not as demanding as District Attorney. There was an instant connection between the two of you: he loved the same dark comedies you adored and you were both die hard red sox fans. You also got the feeling that he needed a friend, especially after the high profile case he was intimately involved in last year involving his son, and then that awful crash that took them both… Even when his eyes lit up talking about the latest game, there was still something disconnected. A deep rooted sadness. 

Over the next few months, you two developed a deep friendship. He would come over and watch the sox at your house, you had dinners together, swam laps together, hung out at work functions together. You even had office pranks going on of scaring the hell out of each other by jumping from around the corner. This was put to an end fairly quickly, however, when you accidentally scared your boss instead of Andy. He hadn't let you live that one down yet. "He's balding and a foot shorter than me. How'd you get that so wrong?" "Shaddup" was all you could reply. 

And Andy was good looking, so what? You had functioning eyes. You could see the soft chestnut brown hair, the taut chest muscles under those nice dress shirts he had, and... those big hands. And you couldn't count how many times that late at night when you were in bed, you had wondered how his beard would feel in between your thighs… But no, no!  He didn't need a relationship right then, and you respected that. The man was probably still grieving! No matter… how... kissable his lips looked or... how... beautiful his eyes were, he needed a friend. 

He spotted you after he had grabbed his dark roast coffee, two-sugar-no-cream, and held his hand up as he made his way over toward you, smile on his face. 

"It's raining out." He grinned, a look of  mirth in his eyes.

"Is it?" You sassed at him, which only served to make him grin more. 

"So, what are you up to this weekend? You going on a date for Valentines?" 

"Yeah right, Andy." You snorted. "Painfully single, party of one right here." 

Even bundled up in a raincoat and galoshes, Andy looked handsome. His cheeks were rosy from the chill outside and his lips looked slightly chapped. Not that it would deter you from kissing them… Nope, you inwardly shook your head, stay focused. 

"I'm not getting up to much either." There was a tinge of pain in his eyes that he tried to hide by taking a drink of his coffee, but you saw it. "How about I walk you back to the office?" Andy offered. "I have an umbrella with plenty of room." 

You gave a small smile with a nod. Andy led you out of the shop, his warm, big hand on the small of your back. You couldn't help the heat that crept onto your face. He was so close and your willpower was so weak. 

Stepping onto the sidewalk, the umbrella casting a shadow around the two of you, you made your way towards the office. Dark, dreary skies could not deteriorate the calmness and safety that you felt being close to Andy. 

"You know, we could do something for Valentine's." He said almost hesitantly.

"You wanna go out on a date with me, Andy?" An equal amount of hesitation in your voice.

"Sure. Ya know, If you want to." 

You felt his eyes look over towards you, waiting for an answer. You felt your cheeks heat up, your body more tense. Was he really asking you out just to be polite? 

"You don't have to take me out as some kinda favor, Andy." You scoffed. "I'm a big girl. I don't need a pity date for Valentine's."  

Andy stopped walking and you had to stop yourself as well to stay under the umbrella. 

"Why would you think that?" Genuine curiosity and… hurt? Was it hurt there? You felt a rock lodge into the pit of your stomach. Turning around so that you didn't have to face him from utter embarrassment, you pulled your arms protectively around yourself and started walking toward your building. 

You heard curses in the distance and then Andy called out your name, the sprinting in his steps being heard as his shoes hit the wet pavement. 

"You didn't answer my question. I deserve to know why you'd think I wouldn't ask you out." 

"Look at you! You're gorgeous! Everyone practically drools when you walk through the door of our office. Plus you're so smart, you're a better litigator than most of the partners. You could have any woman you wanted, Andy. Why me?" 

He looked down and placed one hand on his hip, then he looked back up at you, intensity piercing his eyes that you hadn't seen before. 

"You've brought out of me something I thought had died months ago. I've never felt close to anyone, where I could talk to them. I always kept them at a distance, but with you, I feel like I could share anything and you wouldn't judge me. You're beautiful and smart, you make me laugh like an idiot. You're even a Sox fan." He smiled before continuing. "Hell yes, I wanna take you out. You're fuckin' perfect." 

And then he kissed you, right under that umbrella, sounds of rain reverberating off of the fabric. You felt a small moan leave you as your chest squeezed, your stomach erupting in butterflies. You felt his beard against your skin, even softer than you imagined and as his arm wrapped tighter around your waist, you felt yourself becoming weightless as he lifted you up. Your arms made their way around his neck. After a beat, he lowered you back down, leaning his forehead against yours as the kiss ended. Body feeling electric, you wondered how you had lasted so long without his lips on yours.

Feeling slightly drunk, you giggled a bit and released your grip on his neck. 

"I've been wanting to do that for a while." Andy smiled softly, his voice a bit gravelly.  

"Yeah, Barber? Did it live up to your expectations?" 

"Yeah, sweetheart. It did." 

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

Okay so Valentines turns me into a full blown sap and I'm sorry (but not really 😂). 

TAG LIST:

@angrythingstarlight

@cheeseburgersstuff

@chrissquares

@denisemarieangelina

@t-stark35

@marvelinsanity

If you would like to be added or removed from my taglist, please feel free to shoot me an ask or DM. 

[brockadoodles]

ho ho hopefully - t. seguin

AN: This is like... PURE fluff. Pure soft, Christmas themed, fluffy fluff with our resident idiot, Segs. But like, kind of what we deserve for Christmas, no? Totally based on the BEST Christmas song in existence, Ho Ho Hopefully, by the Maine. Tagging the seggy queen @texanstarslove​ in this one, since I think she’ll enjoy it. It’s a bit shorter than most, but let me know what you think!

Word Count: 2222

Warnings: None.

December first, I’m in a foreign state, I’m running late, I’m all alone, wishing I was home with you, baby.

It shouldn’t have mattered. It shouldn’t have been a big deal to miss it. It was one year, objectively, you could start on December second, or third, or fourth, or all the way up until Christmas Day and it shouldn’t matter. But there was something about December first, how the first signs of Christmas would start popping up, with lights beginning to pop up on homes and trees slowly starting to be seen in the windows, families decorating together. You probably liked December first more than you even liked Christmas because something about that transitional time from autumn scenery into snow-covered streets that actually made sense was comforting, and with everything going on in your life as of late, the only thing you wanted was to be home on December first, with him.

Tyler knew that December first was special. He knew from the years of knowing and falling in love with you how your eyes lit up at the smallest things, like the first snowfall of the season, even though Vancouver rarely got snow. He knew from the way his own heartbeat faster around you that first year you insisted he help you with a tree, his own love for you he was trying to keep at bay trickling through to the surface. He knew that being home with you was inarguably the one thing you wanted, and there he was stuck in an airport lounge in Boston feeling the farthest away from you he could possibly feel on your favorite day of the year. 

Tyler looked out the window. His eyes were still as he watched the storm get worse and worse outside. Muffled airport announcements in monotone voices announcing delay after delay in flights. Boston was an eight and a half hour flight from Vancouver, and reality was settling in that his chance at maybe, just maybe making it to you with an hour to spare was steadily decreasing with each inch of snow that was falling onto the ground. 

Tyler knew when you started dating that it would be hard. The distance between Dallas and Vancouver was already a hurdle, but the added layer of his career and your own job made the relationship seem nearly impossible. It felt at times like you were two people dangling from a rope, trying to balance too many things at once simply just to be together. But he’d hear your soft voice on the phone, “I can’t wait to see you” murmuring from your lips and it made it all worth it, it made the time difference, the traveling, and the hardships worth it anytime you’d utter those words. 

He wasn’t even entirely sure how it happened, him falling so hard for someone who was almost always half a world away. Everyone in his life cautioned him against it, saying that there was no way it could work, you’re too different of people and too different of lives and it wasn’t rational. But Tyler didn’t care to be rational, because you were his best irrational choice he had ever made, and he knew he was lucky that he got to love you. 

Tyler held his head in his hands and tried to tell himself that it would be okay. He was still getting to see you later that month for Christmas and that was what mattered. But he also couldn’t help being unfathomably irritated at the bad weather that he couldn’t control, the watered-down shitty Dunkin coffee sitting next to him, and the repetitive cycle of delayed flight announcements ruining what was supposed to be an incredible surprise. The Stars had been in Boston finishing up a long road trip where they would now have two days off before a short home stretch of games. The timing had lined up perfectly so that if he flew straight from Boston to Vancouver, he’d get almost two days with you, one of which being your favorite day of the year. But now as he sat in the terminal, the hope of seeing you just kept dwindling bit by bit, and he was coming to the deafening realization that maybe it just wasn’t meant to work out. 

“Any news?” Tyler turned his head quickly at the voice coming from his left. Jamie sat down next to his teammate with a soft frown on his face. Tyler just shook his head and took a sip of his coffee, growing more irritated by the minute. The only thing getting him through it was knowing that even though his surprise was crumbling, you at least couldn’t be disappointed in it since you had no idea he was even planning to come in the first place. But what Tyler didn’t know was that Jamie Benn loved a lot of things, one of which being a classic romantic Christmas surprise, and you had been scheming up a surprise of your own. 

It was a last minute surprise, an idea that you had panickingly called Jamie over just the week prior. You had been going through what might have been the worst day you’d had in months, one of those days where every single event felt like the worst thing in the world. You remember curling up on your couch and crying as you looked through the calendar and Tyler’s schedule, trying to piece together how you could swing a surprise visit between their pre-Christmas packed schedule and your own lack of vacation time from work. It felt like the pieces weren’t fitting, and you were desperate to try. So that’s when you called Jamie, and he patiently combed through the practice schedule with you, helped you book a flight and promised to keep it an absolute secret from your boyfriend. 

The thing that Tyler didn’t know was that you were also sitting in an airport terminal with a shitty coffee in your hand, waiting anxiously for a flight of your own, the first flight of two that in six and a half hours time would land you back in the lone star state. The main difference was that there was no snow where you were, and all that you had to do was board the plane and show up, Jamie said he would take care of the rest. 

You had everything worked out, Jamie had made sure he wouldn’t suspect anything, his dog sitter knew when you were coming, and you had even packed a goofy Christmas sweater for him to wear while you hopefully decorated together. Long-distance with him was hard, but when the schedule seemed to allow for a quick visit, you gladly took what you could get, willingly ready to be tired from the flights even if it meant just a few hours with him. 

Each visit you found yourself breaking more and more when it ended, the days between were starting to feel dreaded. Your work was no longer enjoyable. It felt like you were stagnant in Vancouver, with most of your heart nestled safely in whatever city Tyler happened to be in that night. If you were honest with yourself, you knew that this was going to burn out, the distance was going to take its toll on the both of you, and sitting in that airport ready to go see him for the first time in a few weeks, you found yourself thinking for the first time about the idea of not coming back to Vancouver. 

Your phone rang in your hand, Tyler’s photo filling up the screen. You set your coffee down and slid your thumb across to answer, smiling slightly in excitement.

“Hey.” you hummed, hoping that your headphones would drown out any announcements about flights that were periodically coming through the speakers around you. The airport was busy, as was to be expected this time of year, but you had worked hard to keep this a secret from him and the last thing you wanted was a muffled airport announcement blowing the surprise fifteen minutes before you were set to get on a fight. 

“Hi, baby.” He sighed. You could tell something was off, you could always tell. You and Tyler knew each other so well, the distance between you forcing you both to pick up on things between each other. The things that were highs and the shifts in tone that indicated something was wrong, you both knew. You had memorized all of his little habits, from the typical stuff like how he preferred apples in his oats or how he had to nap at the same time before every game, to the things that people who didn’t know him didn’t have the privilege to see. Like the way he lit up when his sisters would call, or how he was really hard on himself, even when he shouldn’t be. You just knew him, all of his good things and all of his flaws and you loved him endlessly through all of it. You frowned slightly and opened your mouth to speak but he started before you could.

“I’m heading back to Dallas. Our flight was delayed, big snowstorm here.” He groaned. He hated that he was telling you this without entirely telling you why he was upset. But Jamie was next to him, and even if Tyler didn’t want to believe that he was right, deep down he knew the surprise wasn’t going to work, and as much as it sucked, he needed to just go back to Dallas and accept the fact that he would have to wait a few more weeks to see you not through a phone screen. 

“I just really fucking miss you.” He admitted and your heart cracked. You could hear in his voice how bad it was, and it only strengthened the feeling of stopping all of the distance between you altogether. 

“I miss you, too, bub. But, only a couple of more weeks.” You raised the tenor of your voice a bit, hoping that it would get him a bit excited about Christmas together. 

“Yeah, wish it was sooner, though.” 

You talked with Tyler for a few more minutes, tapping your foot slightly as you waited for your boarding number to be called. When you ended the call and boarded your flight, that feeling came back. The feeling of wondering if Vancouver could really truly be your home anymore when half of your soul was in Dallas. You spent the whole flight thinking about it, even though deep down you had no doubts about your decision. All it took to confirm it was his strained voice on the other end of the line, the pent of frustrations he was feeling about missing you just as much as you missed him. 

Tyler carried his bags through the entryway, exhaustion finally setting in right next to his already bad mood. Gerry, Marshall, and Cash came running up to him, excited to see him and lifting his spirits just enough as he greeted them and then combed through his mail that was sitting on the table. He tossed his bags down and kicked off his shoes, not wanting to bother with taking them upstairs yet. He knew that the dog sitter had left, he had told her when he was coming in. He was honestly looking forward to just relaxing on his couch, face-timing you, and going to sleep. He was supposed to be in Vancouver, walking up to your door and seeing you, and he didn’t have it in him to not sulk about that. 

He walked toward the kitchen, freezing a bit when he saw bags of Christmas decorations on the counter. He poked around, sifting through the various bags wondering who had dropped them off or if he had somehow placed an order for Christmas decorations that he forgot about. He got to one bag, a small brown one with a ribbon on the side. It was probably a gift, but when he saw the note with his name scribbled on the front he quickly opened it. 

We go together like the winter and a sweater <3 

He recognized your handwriting immediately as he opened the bag, pulling out a bright red sweater, laughing softly at the horrible snow-related Christmas pun that was screen printed on the front. He felt warm at how you somehow must have known he needed the pick me up. He kept combing through the bags, various ornaments, and knickknacks, and other decors were littered throughout them. He knew it was you, he wasn’t sure how you coordinated this but he knew you were the reason it looked like Christmas was about to throw up in his kitchen. He smiled a bit, his bad mood lifting when he realized what this probably meant. You probably wanted to decorate on facetime together, a compromise for not being able to actually be with each other and the idea melted his heart. 

Tyler walked over to the fridge, cracking open a beer as he unlocked his phone to call you. As the phone was ringing, the dogs started barking like crazy, running back from the kitchen to the front door. He didn’t think much of it until he nearly dropped his phone when he heard your voice. 

“Shh, shh, hi boys. Hi! Oh my gosh, hi Gerry.” You laughed, petting each of the dogs as you walked further into the house. You had takeout in your hands and were so focused on not dropping it from the dog’s excitement that you didn’t even realize Tyler’s bags were sitting against the wall in the entryway.

“You’re here.” You jumped at the sound of his voice, smiling big as he walked over to where you were standing. You were wearing one of his sweatshirts, his name sprawled across your back, a sight that he never grew tired of seeing and you were carrying bags of what appeared to be take out in your arms. You had slippers on and your hair up, an indication of how relaxed you were. He couldn’t help but internally groan, seeing how comfortable you were in his house, the one he wanted to be your home, too. You quickly set the food on the kitchen table, meeting him halfway. He pulled you in tight and you listened to his heart beating against your ear. 

“Fuck, I can’t believe you’re really here. I was going to surprise you.” He whispered, tilting your head up to kiss you. You smiled into the kiss, your heart already telling you what you needed to talk to him about. You didn’t have any doubts about it anymore. Dallas was where you needed to be. It was where Tyler needed you to be, and standing there in his kitchen with Christmas decorations littered all around you and him holding you like this, you were ready. Every buildup to this moment had led you here, in slippers in his kitchen ready to ask him to take another step with you, hoping that he’d grab your hand as he did so. 

“I’m really here. Jamie actually helped, he made sure I could get in and made sure you had no idea.” Tyler had never been more appreciative of his best friend. He should have known Jamie would have a hand in a surprise like this, this had secret softie Jamie Benn written all over it, and he adored you, often warning Tyler not to fuck it up with you. 

“Remind me to thank him, because wow. Best surprise ever, honestly.” He melted into you. He didn’t care if it was cheesy, or something straight from a bad Christmas movie. He’d watch 100 of those Lifetime movies because the feeling he was experiencing now with you in his arms was probably the exact emotion those cliche Christmas films tried to convey. 

“Tyler, I wanted to ask you something.” You said, pulling back just enough to look at him.

“Anything.” He kissed you once more, still in disbelief that you had pulled off a surprise when his had fallen so flat. 

“I don’t want to do this anymore, the missed calls, the flights, all of it. I just want to be here, all the time with you.” You smiled. Your stomach was bubbling with nerves as you studied his face for any reaction or reason that maybe he wasn’t ready for that yet. It would be complicated, figuring out how to actually stay in Dallas and be together. But a strenuous Visa application was the least of your worries if it meant that you’d finally get to be with him. Tyler grinned, picking you up and setting you on the table, kissing you hard as he stood between your legs. 

“Please tell me that means you want to move here.” He mumbled against your lips. You just kissed him once more. 

“There’s nothing else I want. Well I kind of want the food I brought, and maybe we could decorate for Christmas since it’s my favorite day, but like, definitely want to move here the most.” You laughed slightly as you spoke. Tyler just smiled at you, a breathtaking, heartfelt smile that made butterflies swirl around in your stomach. It was an exciting step in your relationship, and you couldn’t help but think about how much you loved December first again, this time for a new reason, because now it was the signifier in a new start with the person you loved. You didn’t care that it was only December first, because to you, this was better than anything you could have received on Christmas Day. 

[captainrexisboo]

Ice

-DJ Khaled voice- Another one.

What the fuck?? Four fics in just one weekend?? After two whole months of inactivity?? Aha, I am in no way as productive as you think I am. I’ve been sitting on all of these projects for almost three months now lmao- but they’re here now for your viewing pleasure, babes! This is a one shot Rex x Jedi!Reader, but they are not together. They do not get together. This is just Rex, pining for some oblivious Jedi General (you) and dealing with it by being grumpy and thinking he has the upper hand in teasing the reader. I left the gender of the reader pretty ambiguous I think? I hope?

No warnings apply, except I guess foul language if you don’t like that. And vague imaginings of semi steamy scenarios. Some angst if you squint. But really, it’s just fluffy pining, with a needy (and in denial) Rex. Comments, questions, reblogs and replies absolutely welcome and encouraged!

~

“T-take off the a-a-armor.”

The jaig eyes turned to you, the blue and white blending into the Pantoran ice and snow effortlessly. This would be the only environment suitable for their stark white armor as camouflage, and here you were demanding him stripped. Knowing you couldn’t read his bewildered expression, Rex tilted his head to you in a curious motion, “Why?”

“It’s fekkin’ f-freezin’ Cap,” you spoke through chattering teeth, pulling your robes tighter around you. He chuckled at your cursing, no other Jedi talked so blunt like you did, so casual. It was even worse when you were outside the temple, falling out of regulations and decorum the moment it was just you and your troopers. Hell, they didn’t even have to be your troopers. Force knows how often you’ve snuck around the barracks on Coruscant, going from battalion to battalion, whoever had furlough, making sure every clone gets at least a moment's worth of normalcy in their too-short life. Rex would be lying if he said it wasn’t endearing, and he may have felt a slight smidgen of pride that, aside from your own men, you seemed to find yourself in the 501st bunks the most.

“So? I’m perfectly toasty in this specialized insulated armor. You’re the one that decided not to wear your cold-assault gear until we got to the surface, General L/N,” Rex teased, drawing out your name and title nice and slow, biting back a bit of laughter at the way you scrunch your nose whenever you got annoyed, “Why would you want me to de-kit? To be cold with you?”

“Don’t c-call me that, Rex,” you bit out, groaning at the formality, and the chill going down your spine, “Y-you know I’m just Y/N.”

“I’ll stop calling you proper, when you stop being a Jedi,” he chided, prodding some more at the fire in the dim cavern, the only light being the glowing embers in front of you and whatever was being illuminated off the snow right at the mouth of the cave. Your ship had crashed into the freezing moon in the midst of a brutal blizzard, luckily right next to the base of a mountain with accessible caves. Unluckily, you were also 15 klicks west of your rendezvous point, with the wind and snow causing major damage to your transmitters and interfering with the signal in your commlinks. You weren’t going anywhere, or talking to anyone, until the storm let up.

You huffed at his strict persona, you know Rex only acted so dogmatic to rile you up. You saw how nonchalantly he acted around Anakin and Ahsoka, even Obi-Wan at times. No, with you it was entertainment, a game to see how much you could take before breaking, and he loved it. Even without the Force, you could see it in the shake of his shoulders at his quiet laughter, hear the coy smirk in the dip of his drawl, watching the extra swing in his stride as he walked away triumphant every time, so sure he had succeeded in driving you crazy. This time, he had nowhere to run.

Ignoring his baiting taunt, you crawled around the fire to sit right next to him, “P-please, Captain? I’m r-r-really kriffin’ c-cold, and while the fire is so delightful, I think i-it’d be in both o-our best interests to h-have a second source of heat.”

Rex nearly dropped his stick he was using to poke at the kindles, tensing slightly before clearing his throat, “Oh? And what ‘source of heat’ did you have in mind?”

“D-don’t play dumb,” you shivered again, pouting at how you stuttered while he sat a little too well composed for your liking, “I know the K-Kaminoans t-taught you all about s-s-survival tactics. I d-do it with my boys a-all the time. Strip to your b-blacks, m-me to my t-t-tunic, then I’ll wrap my robes around the two of us. B-body heat, Rex.”

Your boys. Your affectionate term for your ever-faithful battalion, that apparently frequently slept and cuddled with you in the most innocent and familiar of ways. Still, something about it made Rex’s stomach stir, his mouth twisting from a smirk into a silent snarl under his helmet. He wasn’t against ‘cuddle puddles’ with the vode, every single brother took part in them, and it wasn’t unusual to find a stray jedi or padawan compacted in the very middle of the pile. He knew for a fact that the 212th had regular arguments as to who’s turn it was to use General Kenobi as a pillow (and that Cody never partook in those bouts- no, he was always the General’s pillow). In theory, he knows it's more than a possibility for you to be a part of them, especially with your extremely relaxed extroverted personality, but actually hearing you say it out loud had something ugly rear its head to sour the Captain’s mood. He attempted to shoo the little creature away, trying to scare it off with a forced cough to make it scurry back into hiding and leave his inner peace alone. His mind clear again, he peered into your pleading doe eyes through his visor, seeing the flames flickering reflections off your irises in a whimsical dance. His gaze went lower, following the slope of your nose, before tracing the shape of your full pout, lips trembling and reddened from the cold, nearly beginning to chap. The slight clicking of your teeth as he watched you shiver under your robes made him resign to your request, sighing as he removed the cowled helmet, “Fine. Why you didn’t just wear your own cold-assault gear is beyond me, but I’ll help you stay warm this time.”

“Oh, thank the force,” you whimpered, immediately dropping the outermost robe from your shoulders, staying on your knees as he stood up to remove his layers. Rex nearly dropped his cuirass, watching you unwrap your tan-colored linen underneath to reveal a gripping white tunic, clinging to your every curve and muscle, no part of you left to the imagination except the actual flesh itself. You even discarded your boots and breeches, leaving you in opaque black tights. Without the safety of his helmet, Rex tore his eyes from you, desperate to hold onto some semblance of rectitude, taking a deep inhale through his nose before continuing his own removal. Rex could feel the tip of his nose numbing just slightly, shaking his head at what the hell was he doing-

“You know, if we get found like this-”

“We’ll s-say I got hypothermia and you were ‘d-doing your duty t-to protect the Jedi’,” you giggled, a little forced, hands coming up to rub at your shoulders, attempting to create some friction, but wincing at the iciness of your fingers, “Rex, hurry!”

Your whine of his name had him hesitant to remove the bottom half of his armor, already starting to feel something forbidden gathering in the depths of his stomach. He tried to fend off the feeling by turning his head to the stone wall and talking- though whether that was an effective decision remained to be seen. “I’m just saying, can’t you use the Force or whatever to warm yourself up? Isn’t that something you can do? I know you can use the Force for healing purposes, this’d be like that, right?”

“If I had f-followed the path of m-m-medical practice, sure,” your breath came out in little clouds as you puffed through another tremor, wrapping your dark robe around your shoulders as you waited for Rex to finish, “But, I didn’t, I chose the kn-n-nights, and so I’m here, and n-now I’m your problem.”

“My problem,” Rex grumbled under his breath as he sat back down, tugging at the final parts of his boots, not caring that you could actually hear him, “Skywalker is my problem. Tano is my problem. Kenobi can even be considered my problem at times, but you, General? No, no, no. You’re not my problem, you’re-”

Turning back around to face you, he nearly choked on his own spit. He hadn’t realized how close you were, and without his helmet, his nose brushed against yours in an innocent bunny kiss, the brief friction making him jump back nearly a foot away. A teasing chuckle left you at his skittish reaction, cocking your head to the side as you opened your robe back up and beckoned him closer, “Wrong way, Captain. C’mere.”

His throat felt tight, closing off almost everything, even air, and despite his discarded layers he was certain the back of his neck was beginning to sweat. The way you so carefully had folded your legs, thighs pillowing together in such an enticing way, leaning on your elbow to pronounce the slope of your hips and curve of your waist...he could so easily wrap his arms around you perfectly, before settling his head to rest on your chest and memorize the beat of your heart- the pinch of his nails digging into the meat of his palm drew him out of his mind before he could fall any further down that rabbit hole. He cleared his throat, throwing his gaze to the floor as his entire being tensed, “This…i-is not regulation, General.”

“Oh my maker you’ve been hanging out with Echo too much,” you groaned, throwing your head back dramatically, “Rex, please?”

He swallowed down a hard gulp of air, inching his way over to you, without looking up from the floor. You met him halfway, dragging your thickest robe behind you, and sighed in relief at the natural waves of heat coming off of him. Every single clone ran hot, and you trapped that heat by throwing the robes over the two of you, wrapping your hands around the back of Rex’s head and pulling him into your neck as you leaned against a standing rock.

One minute his eyes were counting cracks and jagged holes scattered over the cave floor, and the next they were gifted with a gracious view of your form, so close he could smell your clean body wash, a soft mint that tickled his nose, and he had to count to ten to control his breath so he didn’t just inhale you instead of oxygen. It was a concentrated effort made extremely difficult due to the delightfully sharp pressure of your nails against his scalp. You already felt like heaven, he had to tense himself from wanting to grab for more of you- which he didn’t have to do anyways. You had pulled him into you, his nose brushing over your neck, the tip still chilled, making a breathless giggle leave you, “Oh, your nose is s-so icy!”

“Who's fault is that,” Rex grumbled into you, mumbling to try to keep his lips from mouthing over your exposed collarbone. What he couldn’t stop was the delighted shiver that ran through him as your hands started massaging the tired planes of muscle in his back, making him lose a bit of discipline and dropping flush against you. He made a horrified sound, the breath strangled in his throat as he felt a nervous sweat thickly dripping over the back of his neck, before that sweet amused sound left you once again.

“Rex, you're so tense! Here, lemme just-”

Your hands worked in smooth motions, rubbing deep into his tired tissue. He could feel his eyes roll back into his head, biting the swell of his lip to keep any lewd sounds from leaving him, focusing on syncing his breath with the flow of your touches. His form was finally slack, keeping you trapped underneath him as his arms tentatively found their way around your waist, holding you to him, his face buried in the crook of your neck. You hummed at the coverage of him over you, leaning to nuzzle against the side of his head, the prick of his blond tickling the tip of your numbed nose. You whispered to him, eyelids growing heavy as you curled into him, “Thank you, Captain.”

Your breathing evened out, deep and slow, your hands coming to a rest, stopping on the small of his back and between his shoulder blades. Rex couldn’t believe it; you had fallen asleep in his arms. His eyes slowly peeked open, and he wiggled a bit, getting to a place where he faced you instead of the rock you were both leaning on. His eyes were nearly level with your jawline, he could trace the profile of your parted lips, still threatening to chap in the cold air, but your breath didn’t stutter anymore from the chill. He really was helping keep you warm.

He had dreamt about those lips, memorized the way they shaped his name, watched the direction you preferred to run your tongue over them while you were deep in thought. He licked his own lips in just that way, thinking about how maybe it’d feel if he were to do that to yours.

Maker, he was awful. Thinking about his wretched togue playing at your perfect lips, while you laid so peaceful and trusting underneath him.

Rex prided himself as a man of honor, he wasn’t so foolish as to attempt anything, but even just thinking about you in this vulnerable way as you let him hold you… he felt slimy, unworthy to be in your good graces. He let out a shuddering breath, not in the cold but in longing, exhaling your name as his arms brought you impossibly closer to him. For however long the two of you had, however long the storm lasted, he would treasure this. He would treasure you. 

He was a fool for fighting you on this. Being lulled by your breath to join you into rest as the blizzard raged on, the only thing he would change would be how late he was in agreeing to your conditions. When you both awoke, with the snow settled and communications running, when you were both with your respective teams, and yourself in proper gear, Rex would still have tonight in his memory. He would still be holding you in his arms, breathing you in, and playing the memory of your heartbeat, the soft thumping tempo so soothing, on repeat in his mind.

[instasiswetrust]

Cherry Lane Challenge Day 3 - Crow

A flutter of black, out of the corner of his left eye is what first catches his attention. His hand raises, signaling his party to stop in their tracks. There's some shuffling and a few annoyed huffs which he ignores in favor of taking careful steps towards what caught his eye in the first place.

All is still for a second and then- There. The dry sound of feathers brushing together.

Silently, he steps closer to the source of the sound. When he sees what it is, he relaxes minutely allowing himself another breath. It is but a crow, its left wing dragging over the dewy grass of the clearing. He sees no blood so he assumes it must be broken.

Another careful step takes him even closer to the scared bird, his fingers nearly brushing its feathers, so close-

"Steve, what's the hol- Is that a bird?"

Tommy and the rest of the hunting party burst into the clearing with too loud steps and raised voices, startling the bird into a frantic state once again. It squawks in its fear, broken wing fluttering pitifully as it tries to escape what it assumes to be a predator.

"I almost had it, Tommy!" He turns to his companion, features set into an angry scowl. He may only be seventeen but he was the Crown Prince and they should've listened to his orders! "Why did you break position?"

Instead of answering his question, Tommy walks past him as crouches right by the bird, poking it with a stick and laughing at its resulting squawk. "Can't believe you stopped a hunting party just to save a bird, Stevie. What are you? Snow White?"

Heat rises to the prince's cheeks and he smacks the stick out of Tommy's hands. "Leave it. It's already hurt enough without you making it worse."

Tommy quirks an eyebrow, teeth bared into a nasty smirk. He gives a mock bow that makes Steve's eyes narrow.

"As you wish, milord."

And then, making sure he's got Steve full attention, he gives the injured bird a sharp kick sending it smacking against a tree with a feeble squawk.

The bird struggles to upright itself, collapses, and tries again, before eventually just laying there. Unmoving if not for the minuscule shifts of its diaphragm. All Steve can do is watch, knowing full well that if he so much dares make a move to help it again, Tommy might outright try to crush it under the sole of his boot.

Under the raucous laughter of the soldiers, he follows the hunting party back to the deer trail they were following, the back of his neck red with poorly contained rage. All thoughts of injured crows and helpless birds are stored at the back of his brain where he no longer has to think about them again.

---

So that night, when he walks into his chambers half-drunk on too much ale and a hearty roast, the last thing he expects is to find a girl sitting on his desk chair. Her vermillion hair is cropped short and would help her pass for a man were it not for her curvaceous figure, so distinctly female even under the black robes she wears. On her head, a crooked hat sits adorned with what he thinks are feathers.

As he steps inside, she stands up and he notices her eyes appear yellow behind her spectacles.

"Who are you?" He tries to sound authoritative, like the prince he's supposed to be, but he's too drunk to manage anything more than slurred inquisitiveness.

"Don't you recognize me?" Her lips barely move as she speaks and yet her voice comes out as a shrill squawk, not too different from the frantic sounds of the crow in the forest. It makes him flinch, taking a step back. "Maybe this will help jog your memory."

Under his watchful gaze, he sees her shift into the same crow he saw that morning. His eyes follow the bird as it flies around the room once, before landing on the chair. A blink later, and the girl from before is sitting in the same spot.

No. Not a girl.

A witch.

Because of fucking course the crow had to be a witch. That was just his life.

"Look, I'm sorry for what Tommy did to you earlier today and I truly wished to help you but if I did-"

"But if you did, your companions might've killed me while you watched." She hums, inspecting her sharp nails with clear disinterest. "Those are but excuses and we both know it."

"They are not-!"

The witch clicks her tongue disapprovingly and he finds the words he meant to say dying on his tongue. Fear rises in him, and only then does he consider that the reason she's here and not with Tommy is that he's the one she's planning to hurt.

"It is an excuse, darling." She fixes him with a sharp glare. "You're Steve Harrington, Crown Prince of the kingdom of Hawkmond. They should respect you and yet your own foot soldiers treat you like you're below the sole of their feet."

A feeble protest rises in his throat but she only has but to look, before silence descends upon him again. The worst part? She is absolutely right.

"You're weak-willed. Spineless. A disaster in the making." She huffs, taking the few steps that separate them until they are standing almost nose to nose. "I shall not allow a person like that to ruin what this kingdom could become."

In her yellow eyes, he sees rage flash however briefly, and he wonders what sort of circumstances led a witch to care this much for the outcome of a whole kingdom. It is but a split-second judgment, yet it's all he manages.

For the next thing he knows, pain radiates from every single nerve ending in his body. He falls upon his knees, writhing in agony, and through his anguished screams, he swears he can hear the witch croon in a sticky-sweet voice.

Scion of swords and kings

A curse of feather and blood

Placed upon thee

For thine will is brittle as bone

This shape thou shall keep

Til’ the day thy soul’s to pass

Unless thy lesson is learned

And thee flies with thine own wings

By the next morning, every single person in the Capitol knows Crown Prince Steve Harrington has gone missing. None a single clue left behind to find him.

---

He finds out pretty quickly that the best way to find food in the forest is to follow the wolves.

It's been two months since the night he was cursed, and Steve's come to the conclusion that while sometimes annoying, being a bird wasn't as awful as he first assumed it would be. Flying was nice once he managed to get the hang of it, and messing with the occasional villager while he indulged in the instinctual desire to steal shiny things was something he hadn't expected to enjoy so much.

But he really could do without the feeding.

The first few days he had outright refused to take part of any rotten bit of meal he found, no matter how appetizing it might've seemed to his new instincts.

By day four he had to give in and eat, or he risked worse injuries.

It had been a distasteful ordeal up until he had found the wolf pack during his first full moon as a crow. Night had fallen, and as he made his way through the thick trunks on unsteady talons, he had heard the first howl. For a second, he had almost considered leaving. Retaining this half-human form was still something he struggled with and he wished to enjoy the little time he had before he once again had to return to his feathery prison.

But the call of the wolves ensnared him, and he had to find them.

Except none of them were normal wolves, as he found out once morning came.

From what he has observed in the last month, most members of the pack preferred to stick to their wolf forms as much as they could. Occasionally, one or two of them would venture into the closest town for certain necessities but that was about it.

It was weird.

It was also fascinating.

They didn't seem to mind his prolonged stay, in fact, it almost looked like they welcomed him among their midst without so much as a second thought. He didn't question it, just enjoyed it for the time being although he always made sure he only shifted into his halfling form where the wolves wouldn't find him.

At least, that had been the plan.

But now, staring into the ice-blue eyes of the blonde wolf he had started thinking as his wolf, he realizes that he overlooked one tiny but very important detail.

Wolves tended to have a keen sense of smell.

Well, shit.

Silence pervades the small nook between the trees he had taken as his hiding spot away from the pack, as he simply stares back at the wolf. Waiting for something, maybe a shift, a lunge. Anything.

Except a whole minute passes with nothing happening, and Steve is starting to feel foolish.

"So is this the part where you try and eat me? Or warn me to stay away from the pack?" He chances, hoping for a reaction.

The wolf cocks its head to the side, blue eyes looking almost mocking before there's a ripple and a human is crouching in its place. A very blond, very handsome, human with ice blue eyes. Who's also kind of naked.

Huh.

"The fact that you think nobody knew what you were as soon as you hopped into the clearing that night is telling." At Steve's confused look, the wolf (the man?) chuckles. Guess he was right about the mocking part. "You reek of magic, little bird. Magic and human flesh."

"Well, how was I supposed to know?" He snaps, the small feathers that cover his neck fluffing up.

"Common sense?" There's a smirk this time, along with a flash of fangs. "Did your mother not teach you about magical signatures once you came out of the egg?"

"I- ah" He falters, unsure if he should explain that he wasn't born like this but rather turned into this. He runs a talon through the feathers that have replaced his hair before sighing. "I'm a human, actually. Just got cursed to look like this."

The man-wolf hums, giving him an appraising look. "That explains a few things."

Steve scoffs, ready to stand up and leave this guy alone to go bother somebody else when suddenly he feels a heavyweight drop onto his lap. When he looks down, he's met with a pair of ice-blue eyes looking back at him.

He wonders, not for the first time, why he picked this particular wolf to stick close to out of all the others.

"Does the little birdy have a name?" That smirk is back again and it almost makes him blush. Makes him glad that his whole skin is now covered in black fluffy feathers.

"If I tell you, will you stop calling me that?"

"Nope. But I might give you my name too."

It sounds like a fair deal at least. And that way he could stop calling him man-wolf in his head.

"Steve."

"Steve. Hm. Not quite what I expected." It's been so long since the last time someone said his name, it feels weird hearing it now from someone that is not himself. "Mine's Billy, by the way."

"And what did you expect, Billy?" The name feels foreign on his tongue but he figures time will make it easier. After all, it's not like he ever can return to Hawksmond unless whatever conditions the witch placed upon the curse are met.

Billy shrugs, stretching languidly across Steve's lap in all his naked glory. Something that Steve's doing his best to steadfastly ignore. "Some fancy bullshit like Stefano or Guillermino."

He snorts at that, covering his mouth with a clawed talon. "Why would you even think that?"

"You look the part, little birdy."

[strangerivy]

The First Night

Summary: Y/N sits on the roof reflecting on the events of the day working her way through her grief of loosing two people she thought of as family. Levi goes up to comfort her and bring her back from the darkness that threatened to consume her. Rating: 18+ Warnings: Death | Violent Depictions | Swearing | Grief | Loss  Word Count: 1.8k Author’s Note: This is so sad, I cried a little writing it. I promise my next story will be a bit happier 💜 

|| Masterlist | AOT Masterlist ||

Year 844 - Summer

It was a clear night sky, not a single cloud anywhere, but it shouldn’t be this beautiful out on a night like this. On a night where you cursed the world and wished you could turn the clock. It shouldn’t be this beautiful out when they aren’t here to see it. It should be storming out just like it did earlier, the sky should match how you felt. Anger, hurt, heartache and pain. So much pain and not just physically.

You looked up into the sky watching all the stars shine lighting up the world in a soft glow with the moon. It was beautiful, something not too long ago you only got to see through a hole in the ground. Now you would give anything to have that again if it meant you all would be together right now.

A sob racked through your chest as you looked to your left and right to see the spots that once held your two dear friends were now empty. Your bandaged and broken body protest with each movement but you couldn’t stop the tears of your grief. The medic protested to you getting out of the bed, but you ignored it spitting a string of curses and insults at them, not able to lay in that damn room for another minute, you needed air, somewhere to cry alone which is how you ended up here. You wiped the tears that had escaped with the back of your hand letting out a broken laugh, wincing from your wounds.

“Shit, I thought we were done with this,” You grumbled to yourself looking back up at the sky giving up on drying your tears and letting them fall freely now as your friend's voices from the previous night echoed throughout your mind.

You should be dead. There was no doubt in your mind that you also should have joined your two friends in death. If it wasn’t for Lev- you sighed heavily another sob ripping through your chest as you stopped that thought before it dragged you down further than you had already fallen. You folded, head in your hands as you cried to yourself, elbows propped on your thighs as your legs dangled off the edge.

The images of what happened played through your mind almost as if you were torturing yourself with it.

The day seemed to be going as planned until the rain that is. Where did this storm even come from? It was clear just a moment ago and now it was pouring down rain and the wind was blowing with a force and to make it even worse a fog has rolled in with it making it so you couldn’t even see five feet in front of you. You had lost part of your squad already from the poor visibility caused by the weather. Levi had pushed ahead to use the rain as cover to locate Erwin Smith in the center of the formation.

“Do you think he’ll be okay?” You worried turning your horse to follow Furlan and Isabel.

“Of course he will!” Isabel responded brightly, always the ray of sunshine in any situation.

You, Isabel, and Furlan went back in the direction you thought you heard the sound grenade go off hoping it was your squad that had sounded it, the rain started to come down harder and you had to hold onto your hood to keep it from blowing off, your arm also helping keep the rain out of your face.

You heard the hooves of more horses and looked over to see two cloaks, Flagon looking behind at the three of you.

“You guys are okay,” Flagon seemed relieved at seeing the three of you, but he then looked confused noticing there was a missing member from our group.

“Where is Levi?” He questioned and you tensed a little but kept a blank face as you all kept moving forward.

“We got separated in the fog,” Furlan lied, Flagon seem to accept the answer though which is what mattered. You looked out ahead of you wiping your face of the rain and that’s when it happened. It was quick, you didn’t even see it coming. Your horse veered to the right almost knocking you off it from the sudden movement. You looked up your eyes widening with fear. An abnormal had your squadmate, Sairam, dangling in its mouth blood dripping out of its mouth. It didn’t stand upright like most titans using all four of its limbs allowing it to move faster than most titans as well. Flagon yelled for Sairam to hang on charging at the beast. It was quick to finish of Sairam before grabbing Flagon who yelled at you three to run.

You trembled with fear as you watched it clamp down on Flagon’s body cutting him in half with its teeth and empty stare in its eyes while it stared at the three of you chewing. You should move, you should run but the shock of the scene in front of you had you frozen.

Isabel was the first to move and then Furlan going after her. You quickly regained your composer joining them. You and Furlan trying to distract the beast as Isabel went for the kill. The titan was quick though snatching her quickly by her head, lowering her kicking body down before severing her head from her body you and Furlan watching helplessly tears streaming down both your faces when Isabel’s screams ceased.

Furlan in a blind rage went for a kill but the titan was too quick, you tried to save him, but it grabbed hold of your cables slamming you to the ground hearing something crack from the impact, you let out a strangled cough feeling pain shoot throughout your body at the movement. You heard something hit the ground next to you, you tremble afraid of what you would see but you still turned your head a scream leaving your lips when the top half of Furlan laid right beside you. You looked up at his face holding back sobs as Furlan’s face stared back at you with an empty gaze.

You rolled over flinching when that same pain shot through you again. You ignored it pushing yourself further, standing up gripping your blades. You stared at Titan with a dark glare, if you were going to die you were going to do it fighting. You gripped on to your blades tightly shooting your cables moving quickly, using more gas than you should be dragging your blades deep up its arm and it let out a howl of pain before moving to grab you, you were quick to dodge but this titan was also quick to snagging your foot before you could react to its movement again. Another crack had you let out a scream as your ankle throbbed in the titan's grip feeling like it was crushing it.

When you looked up at the face of the titan, tears streaming down your face, it almost looked as it had a sickening smirk on its face as if it were mocking you knowing that it had won. That it would have killed you all after eating you. With a final burst of energy, you swung your sword up slicing the knuckles of the hand that held you. It dropped you and you hit the ground once again with a loud smack another round of coughs racking through your body a trail of blood dripping out of the side of your mouth.

It was hard to breathe as you laid there, staring up at the dark clouds overhead, you wish you could see the sky one more time. You wished you could see snow in the winter and the flowers in the spring. You weren’t done yet but that wasn’t up to you now. The sky disappeared as the hand of the titan blocked your view. You let out a shaky breath the tears flowing freely as you braced for the end. You silently wished Levi goodbye, praying he wouldn’t beat himself up over this. You closed your eyes waiting for the grip of the titan an odd sense of peace washing over you, but the hand never came.

You opened your eyes to see a flash of green sliced through the Titan pulling its attention from you and towards its attacker. You let out a gasp spotting the raven-haired man. You watched as Levi screamed in agony after each twist and pull of his gear slicing the titan repeatedly until its body didn’t have a spot on it that didn’t have a deep slash. Another blow had its head flying clear off till he finished it off with the final blow to the nape its body finally slamming to the ground steam coming off its decomposing corpse.

Levi landed on his feet his ebony hair hanging in his face almost hiding the tears that fell from his cheeks.

“Levi…” You whispered wincing in pain as you pushed your way up to stand. Levi’s head snapped up his eyes wide as they landed on your broken body. His strides were quick as he made his way to you pulling you to him as you collapsed causing you to let out a small groan in pain. His body shaking with tears for your fallen friends.

“You’re alive,” He said almost like he was confirming it for himself. That at least one of you survived.

Your cries were too loud for you to hear the footsteps behind you, the man behind you with an unreadable face as he watched your broken form. He reached out gently touching your shoulder making you jump at the sudden contact. You flinched at the sudden movement gripping your chest where your broken ribs were. You looked over your shoulder to see Levi standing there with broken eyes as he watched you fall apart quietly. You sniffled wiping the tears once again you slowly turned grabbing a hold of the crutch next to you. Levi reached down helping you wobble your way to standing on your good foot getting the crutch ready for you to lean on.

You both stood there in silence staring at one another, he slowly raised his hand touching your cheek wiping a stray tear away. You let out a small sniffle as you felt your eyes begin to water once again. His hand slowly snaked to the back of your head weaving into your hair before pulling you into him as your sniffles turned to whimpers. You buried your face into his chest staining his white-uniformed shirt with your tears. He moved his other hand around your waist holding you even closer to him.

“I-I-I’m s-s-so-rry,” you cried into his chest your body trembling, you felt his hands grip you tighter “I- I should-I should have been able to stop it.” He grabbed ahold of your upper arms pushing you back enough to look at you. He was angry now.

“Don’t you fucking dare, Y/N” He gritted his teeth “You’re not going to blame yourself for this,” he pulled you close once again, you stood still your tears starting to slow down now as he held you rubbing soft circles into your back.

“I miss them,” you whispered after a few moments of silence, he let out a small sigh his breath tickling your neck.

“Me too,”

[jaskierswolf]

I’ve got a prompt for you! 💜

Ok, I have no idea why I got this idea just now but it opposed into my head and you’re my fave for Modern AUs so I’m passing it onto you! So like modern college au ski trip where Jaskier twists his ankle on the slopes and has to stay behind while everyone else does a moonlight hike or something. Geralt also stays behind and we get some fireside cuddling. Maybe Lam, Eskel, Aiden, and Coen are there to tease or ship it or something when everyone gets back ☺️ Unsure if it’s happening in a cabin or hotel/resort lobby. But yeah. I’m placing it at your feet, do with it what you will 🤗

(geraskier-trashh)

I’m sorry this took so long!! But here you go my darling!!

Ships: Geraskier and Lambden. Also on AO3

Warnings: Minor injury, and sexual references. _______

Geralt was pacing in the lobby of their hotel. It was nearly half past five and Jaskier should have been back by now. They were in different groups for their ski lessons, Geralt being a more advanced skier than his friend. All the other ski school groups has returned over an hour ago. Only Aiden and Jaskier remained uncounted for. The sun had crept behind the snowy peaks of the surrounding mountains. The ski lift had stopped working and yet there was still no sign of Jaskier and Aiden.

Lambert was lounged out on one of the sofas by the bar, tossing a stress ball into the air and catching it again in a never-ending rhythm. “Relax.” Lambert sighed. “They’ll be fine. They probably just decided to après-ski”

Geralt growled at his brother. “No, not tonight. Jask knows that we’re night skiing tonight. He hasn’t shut up about it all week. He’s been looking forward to skiing to together for a change.”

Lambert snorted. “Don’t know why you’re letting him. He’ll slow you down.”

Geralt rolled his eyes. “And you’re willingly skiing with a snowboarder.”

Aiden was learning to ski in Jaskier’s intermediate group after lunch but Lambert’s boyfriend’s real skill lay with the snowboard. He tore up the slope when he was on his board and spent most of morning in the snow parks doing tricks and flips off the jumps and rails that could be found there.

Lambert grinned dopily. “The things we do for love, white wolf.”

“How come you aren’t more worried? Your boyfriend is missing too.”

Lambert shrugged and ran a hand through the thick red curls on his head. “Ski school said all the groups were back. You know what Aiden and Jaskier are like when they’re together. I’m surprised they’ve not been arrested yet. Our boyfriends are terrible for each other.”

“Not my boyfriend.” Geralt sighed. No matter how many times Geralt said it, Lambert still insisted on calling Jaskier his boyfriend.

“Their phones probably died.” Lambert suggested, completely ignoring Geralt’s protest.

Geralt shook his head. “Jaskier would never let that happen, besides he has a portable charger.”

Lambert rolled his eyes. “They’ll be fine, Geralt.”

Geralt continued his pacing in the lobby and Lambert restarted his game of catch. The thud of the ball landing in his hand was driving Geralt mad. Every catch was a second passed that Jaskier hadn’t returned. He was having visions of the pair of them being lost off the side of the mountain. The idiots had probably decided to take the lift back up without their instructor and gotten injured as a result. Not even the picturesque hotel could calm his nerves. It was warm and bathed in a soft yellow glow. There were paintings of the ski resort hung on the walls. Some of the paintings showed the resort as Geralt knew it, but there were several of the mountains with luscious green grass. Edelweiss flowers were often found engraved into the wooden frames. He took a deep breath to try and calm himself, the warm scent of hot spiced wine filled his nose but it wasn’t enough. He needed the startling blue of Jaskier’s eyes and his gentle chamomile perfume.

The hotel was gorgeous and it was expensive, too expensive but Jaskier’s parents had insisted that Jaskier and his friends had needed a break. The trip had been paid for in full before any of them could protest the cost. The gang insisted on paying for their own drinks though. They refused to let Jaskier’s parents, no matter how rich they were, foot the bill on that one. The hotel overlooked the main slope, a blue run that ran all the way into the village, ending by the bubble lift and a collection of ski rental shops and bars. The best bar for après-ski though was half way up the mountain. Everyone knew that. From their hotel they could often see the drunk skiers and boarders trying to make their way down the hill, at least they could when they weren’t amongst them. Geralt always tried to remain alert enough that he could help Jaskier down. His friend always seemed to forget the steep hill that lay between them and their beds. If it was too bad they would take the snowmobile shuttle back down but Jaskier called him a party pooper when they tried.

From their hotel they could ski in and out of the boot room. It was a luxury Geralt had never known in all his years. He was used to trekking through the snowy villages with his skis on his back, and Jaskier’s too in recent years. The brunet would always whine and pout until Geralt helped to carry his skis. He didn’t mind, not really.

The doors opened letting in an icy breeze. Geralt’s eyes snapped up and the noise of Lambert’s stress ball stopped, bouncing across the tiled floor. Geralt heard the shuffle of fabric but he didn’t look round. Aiden was half carrying a limping Jaskier through the door. Jaskier’s arm was around Aiden’s neck and he had his ski poles in his other hand as a support. Geralt rushed over to help.

“Jaskier!” He growled. “What the fuck happened?”

“We went shopping after skiing. I thought I would be able to buy that painting of the horses you like… as a gift.” Jaskier whined. “But I slipped on some bloody ice. I sprained my ankle. It fucking hurts.”

“Nothing’s broken.” Aiden noted, his soft french accent coming through more strongly like it always did when he got emotional. “We’ve just got back from the hospital.”

Geralt was furious. They’d been all the way to the fucking hospital and no one had said a bloody word.

“Now before you say anything, wolf.” Aiden said sharply. “He landed on his phone and it broke.”

“And yours?” Geralt asked with a raised eyebrow.

Lambert snorted. “As if he charged it last night. He’s a fucking nightmare.” Lambert patted Geralt on the shoulder and then wrapped his arms around Aiden’s waist, burying his face into the snowboarder’s neck. “Hey kitten.”

Geralt hummed and he scooped Jaskier up into his arms. His ankle was clearly hurting him and it would help to take the pressure off of it. Geralt watched his brother for a few seconds, noting the way he melted into Aiden’s embrace, and felt bad. Lambert had been worried…. very worried. He’d just hidden that from Geralt because Geralt had been a fucking mess.

And Jaskier was only his friend.

Friend.

The word felt bitter on his tongue.

How long had it been since he’d thought of Jaskier as a friend? He’d been completely gone on the man for at least a few years now. It had been a completely daft revelation. Jaskier hadn’t been doing anything special or even particularly charming at the time. He’d been asleep on Geralt’s bed after Geralt had gotten back from a pub night with his brothers. The brunet had been drooling all over Geralt’s pillows and wearing one of his shirts as he sprawled like a starfish over the bed, and he’d been snoring.

Geralt had watched his friend sleep for a few minutes before he’d realised the snoring wasn’t even irritating, hell he even found it… cute?

And with that the epiphany had hit him like a truck. He was in love with his best friend.

He’d grabbed a spare pair of boxers from his drawers and gone to sleep in Jaskier’s room. It had taken all his self control not to slid into the single bed next to Jaskier.

He’d been in love with him ever since and stoically ignoring it the best he could. Jaskier was very open in his feelings. If he loved Geralt then Geralt would know. His friend wasn’t exactly subtle.

“Are you alright?” He murmured as he carried Jaskier over to the sofas by the large open fireplace in the lounge area.

Jaskier’s arms were wrapped around his neck and Jaskier snuggled up against his chest. It hurt in some ways. It could be so easily interpreted as something more than it was. Geralt wouldn’t change it for the world. As much as he wished for more, he lived for the calm moments of intimacy that fell between them.

“Yeah.” Jaskier mumbled, his face red from the cold. “It’s sore but I’ll live.”

“You won’t be able to ski tonight.”

Jaskier pouted and groaned. “Geralt! We never get to ski together.”

Geralt chuckled and dumped Jaskier onto the sofa before sliding down next to him. Jaskier shrugged out of his bulky teal ski coat and pulled his snood over his head. His hair messed up completely but Geralt thought it looked endearing. Jaskier dropped the layers on the floor before curling up against Geralt’s chest.

“If it’s alright by the morning then we’ll skip ski school.” He suggested.

“Hmmph.”

“That’s a whole day together.” Geralt draped his arm around Jaskier and pulled him closer.

“It’s more romantic at night.” Jaskier sighed.

Geralt’s heart stammered in his chest and he felt the heat rising in his cheeks. “Romantic?”

“I meant… fuck.” Jaskier tried to shuffle away but Geralt grabbed his arm and then brought his hand up to Jaskier’s cheek.

“Romantic?” He asked again, his voice low and unsure in his words.

“Ah well. Freudian slip.” Jaskier bit his lip and his soft blue eyes were looking everywhere except at Geralt.

“Jaskier.”

“Yes, darling?”

“Did. Did you want it to be…”

“Yes.” Jaskier answered too quickly. “Of course I do. The whole world knows that, Geralt.” He covered Geralt’s hand with his own and his cheek pressed into Geralt’s palm. “But I know you don’t and that’s alright, dear friend.”

“I don’t?” Geralt asked with a smirk.

Jaskier frowned. “You don’t… Do you?”

Geralt tilted his head and brushed his thumb along Jaskier’s cheek. “I. I do yeah.”

Jaskier’s eyes widened. His face flushed even darker than before. Geralt usually would have said the soft glow of the fire was to blame but he was starting to wonder.

“This could. Well, I mean.” Jaskier gestured to the fireplace. “This could also be… romantic?”

Geralt let out a shaky breath and rested his forehead against Jaskier’s, his eyes shutting on their own accord. “Yeah?”

“Hmm.” Jaskier agreed and Geralt could feel his warm breath against his skin.

“Careful. “ He murmured. “You’re starting to sound like me.”

“God forbid.” Jaskier laughed and captured Geralt’s lips in a kiss.

Geralt hummed against Jaskier’s lips, still cold from the icy weather outside. Jaskier’s hands slid into Geralt’s hair and Geralt couldn’t resist pushing Jaskier down onto the sofa so his back hit the soft cushions. His lips brushed from Jaskier’s lips along his jaw and he nipped at the soft skin of his swanlike neck.

“Geralt…” Jaskier gasped quietly and a hand squeezed his arse.

Geralt gave a low growled before sucking hard at the pale skin under his lips, biting gently until a dark bruise began to form. Once he was satisfied by the mark he kissed the tender skin before pressing their lips together once more. Jaskier moaned into the kiss and one of his legs wrapped around Geralt’s arse.

“Oi!”

They broke apart, panting and red faced. Jaskier groaned and buried his face against Geralt’s shoulder. “Fuck.” He muttered.

Geralt smirked at Lambert, not caring that they’d been caught. He was too happy to care. “Brother.”

“You have a room.” Lambert snapped. “Use it.”

“Darling, it’s young love. Be nice.” Aiden purred and pressed a kiss to Lambert’s cheek. “We were going to see if you were still coming out skiing tonight but I see you’ve finally got your head out of your arse instead. Have fun boys, be safe. Don’t do anything I would do.”

Geralt laughed. “Isn’t that supposed to be don’t do what you wouldn’t do?”

Aiden winked. “There isn’t much I wouldn’t do, white wolf.”

Jaskier finally emerged from Geralt’s shoulder and held his hand out. Aiden high-fived it with a smirk before Lambert dragged his boyfriend away towards the stairs. “We need to get ready kitten.”

“But darling.” Aiden said loudly, making sure everyone in the lobby could hear. “I’ve been waiting all day to get you out of those clothes.”

“Fuck.” Lambert cursed. “Little shit, upstairs.”

“You love me!”

“Fuck knows why. Come on.” Lambert gave him a shove up the stairs.

“Stop acting like you’re the one in charge, wolf.” Aiden sang sweetly. “Everyone knows how much you like to beg for—”

Aiden’s words were cut off by Lambert’s hand over his mouth.

Geralt grinned before turning back to Jaskier. He gently brushed Jaskier’s hair out of his eyes and pressed a chaste kiss to his lips. “You wanna take this upstairs?” He asked gently.

To his surprise Jaskier shook his head. “Not yet.”

Geralt raised an eyebrow.

“Don’t get me wrong, I am very interested in continuing this upstairs.” Jaskier gently thrust his hips up to make his point. Geralt groaned softly as he felt Jaskier’s erection rub against his. “But I’d like to enjoy the fire a little longer first. It really is rather romantic. A warm fireplace in an alpine hotel with snowy mountains outside.”

“Romantic bastard.” Geralt laughed and bumped their noses together gently.

“Yes, but I am your romantic bastard.” Jaskier paused and licked his lips. “If you’ll have me.”

Geralt sat up, his legs straddling Jaskier’s waist. He rested his hands on Jaskier’s chest. “Mine.” He said softly. “And I’m yours, if you’ll have me?”

Jaskier laughed, his blues eyes crinkling in the corners and Geralt’s heart felt warmer at the sound his melodic laugh. “Of course I’ll have you, you daft idiot.”

Geralt grinned and leant back down to rest his head on Jaskier’s chest. “Hmm.” He replied, hoping Jaskier would understand his words. If anyone could translate then it would be Jaskier, but he was suddenly feeling almost overwhelmed by the emotions in his chest, the happiness. Words just didn’t seem like enough.

Jaskier’s fingers gently combed through his hair and he let his eyes close as he focused on the steady flutter of Jaskier’s heartbeat. “I love you too.” Jaskier murmured. Geralt smiled against Jaskier’s chest. Jaskier heartbeat raced a little faster.

“Mine.” Geralt repeated in a whisper.

“Yours.” Jaskier agreed. __________

Tag list: @alwenarin @slythnerd @davidtennan-t @flippinfricks @awitchersbard  @innocentcinnamonpun @marvagon @elliestormfound @geraskier-trashh @panerato @moonysourenza @artistsfuneral @victorieschild @hailhailsatan @wherethewordsare @havenoffandoms @bitchy-witchy-post-mortem @electricrituals @geralt-of-riviass @00qtee @kittynannygaming @stinastar @caspertheassholeghost @feraljaskier 

[axther]

hero of many, princess of none

in which Bakugou and Kirishima, trying to attempt a quest, meet a strange young woman.  for @reddriot​ 

Life in the borderlands was not easy. 

It was long and toiling, with the twin suns making the days hot and the years long. The sea of sand that stretched across half of the planet could turn into tundra in a day. There used to be kingdoms built on top of kingdoms on top of kingdoms, but they were all sent to dust and to pain. 

And alone survived a girl. 

She was a child. She alone survived the ruin of a thousand empires, waiting above the sand and snow. She alone was the last heir of a kingdom that never was. Even when the wind ripped off the skin of lesser men, she did not die. 

The little princess walked in a state between heartbreak and duty. Why did it happen this way? Why her? Every question was raised. Every god heard a plea. But none answered. 

So, the little princess wandered the borderlands, lonely and divine. And through the years, she grew, with skin like armour and eyes like a stone. She could look out at the great dunes like a hawk and see a single creature. She was armed to the bone, no inch of her left open. She was weary, but stood for those that had no king or knight to protect them. Those that abused what they had were forced to face her dark fury. She became the Mirrored Darkryder, for the fleeting steps in the night that forced the hand of her enemies and the mirages that she seemed to leave in her wake. 

She was the hero of many, and princess of none. 

Good inns were rare. 

Bakugou Katsuki sat at the bar of an inn, with his best friend and dragon shifter Kirishima. They were off on some quest that his mother made him do, after a day of barking at each other, and was told not to come home until it was done. It was something about a bear, blah blah blah, Bakugou really didn’t care. He just wanted to get it over with so he could go back to fighting the enemies of his people and essentially becoming a war hero. But here he was. In an inn, trying to figure out where said bear was. 

Kirishima was chatting happily with the bartender and no less than three patrons, waving his hands about and laughing freely. Bakugou felt sour. He wanted to kick everyone in the room and make them shut up. But alas, he needed information, and inns were the only place to get it.

“Hey, dumbass.” Bakugou hissed, nudging Kirishima’s shin with his foot. “Ask them about the bear.” “Oh!” Kirishima looked at Bakugou with a huge grin. “I already did! They said there is no bear like that.” “What?!” Bakugou barked, rising from his seat, fury welling up in him. “What the hell do you mean?!” 

“Apparently there’s no bears around here.” Kirishima shrugged. “Only wolves.” 

“That doesn’t make any fuckin’ sense!” Bakugou looked at the bartender, gritting his teeth and almost frothing at the mouth. “We’re looking for the White Bear!” “White Bear?” The bartender winced, and Bakugou realised the whole bar started going quiet. The conversations went null, all eyes on them. 

“White Bear…” One of the young ladies said in a hushed whisper. “He’s our lord.” “A thief,” An older man hissed, gripping the table under his worn hands. “He steals our crops, our women, our animals. Our way of life.” “You won’t have to worry about him.” The bartender leaned back, beginning to wipe down a glass. “He’s being taken care of.” “What?” Kirishima leaned in, curious. “What do you mean?” “The Mirror Darkryder,” The girl whispered with reverence. Heads bowed down, and the candles in the room seemed to flicker. “She acts for the people. We asked…” “She will save us.” A youth, maybe Bakugou’s age, rose with a justice-ridden look. Kirishima seemed wholly into the mysterious saviour thing the village had going on, but Bakugou scoffed.

 “What, you hired an assassin?” “She’s no assassin.” The bartender hummed. “Some say she was born out of the sands of the Borderlands. Others think she’s some sort of...god. I dunno. But she’s the protector of the people. If someone sends a messenger into the Tenebris Woodland with a plea for help, the plea will be answered.” 

“We hope that the White Bear will be better, in some way.” The girl sighed, having the last word. “In death, or in life.” 

Bakugou felt his blood chill, and he turned to Kirishima. He seemed almost awestruck, with a gaping mouth and wide eyes. There was a moment of pure reverence before a traveller walked through the door, breaking the tension. It was raining like hell outside, and when the figure walked in, they were soaked through. A certain air made them feel almost dangerous, like a plague in human form. They seemed weary, sighing before plopping into a chair next to Bakugou. The inn went back to its loud state and the lights went bright again as if nothing had happened at all. Kirishima looked around in a bit of confusion, raising his eyebrow. 

“Huh? That was weird.” “How can I help you, stranger?” The bartender talked over Kirishima, leaning over to the traveller. They lowered their hood with a tired sigh, shaking their head to reveal a young woman. She was beautiful, even in her exhaustion, and the bartender swallowed a bit. “Miss?” “Right, uh...whatever is filling.” “Of course.” The bartender left to go get something, leaving her with Bakugou and Kirishima. He leaned over Bakugou to give the traveller a toothy grin. 

“Hi there! Are you visiting?” “Hm?” She looked at him with a surprised glance. “Oh, yes. I’m just passing through.” 

“That’s awesome! So are we!” Kirishima skedaddled around Bakugou to squeeze between the two of them. “What’s your name?” “I’m YN.” She smiled softly, tilting her head. “And you?” “This is my bro, Bakugou!” Before Bakugou could protest, he was tucked under Kirishima’s overenthusiastic arm and noogied.

 “Shut the fuck up! Don’t you fuckin-!” 

“He’s my best friend!” Kirishima grinned, letting go of Bakugou. “And I’m Kirishima. Dragon shifter extraordinaire!” 

“Don’t just tell anyone that-!” “Neat!” YN grinned, lacing her hands. “I’ve only met a handful of dragon shifters before.” “Wait! You’ve met any at all?!” “Why, yes!” She nodded fervently, giddy.  She seemed like a total sweetheart, as opposed to the initial aura of “don’t interact or else I’ll kill you”. Her eyes seemed to sparkle in the candlelight, and when she leaned into her hand, her cheek was squished. There was a kind glow about her, and Bakugou felt his unease slowly melt away. 

“When?” His words were less suspicious, and more inquisitive. “Was it with the nomads?” “Oh, no.” YN shook her head happily. “It was in the mountains, a small family of them. The children were such small things! Their scales hadn’t even shed yet.” 

“Oh!” Kirishima had a hand over his heart, seeming almost faint at the idea. “That’s so cute! Bro, bro, remember when we were kids?!” 

“Fuck off,” Bakugou rolled his eyes, peeling away from Kirishima’s side in embarrassment. “I don’t fuckin remember.” “C’mon, you still have my scales on your armour!” “Shut up!” YN started laughing, and the sound was whole. It was peace, welcome changes, the twin suns through the green trees. Both Bakugou and Kirishima paused, leaning in and going quiet to listen. It wasn’t like bells in the noise, but in the motion; pealing, tumbling, ringing everywhere. When she laughed, the whole world stopped to listen. And the two stared. 

“So.” Bakugou broke the silence as soon as she stopped, not wanting for the conversation to go dead yet. “What are you in town for?” YN tilted her head again, and pursed her lips. She seemed to be in thought for a second, before nodding. “I’ve been taking odd jobs through the Borderlands and the Meseta. The sort of stuff people wouldn’t do...normally.” “Like…?” Kirishima paused, trying to make sense of it. “Like...yanno…” “Oh! No! Not like that!” YN waved her hands, flushed before taking a sip of her drink. “Not like that.” 

“Then what is it?” Bakugou frowned. Before he got his answer, there was a yell from outside, and everyone looked towards the door. YN seemed to have a dark sparkle in her eye.“Neither of you are grossed out by blood, right?” “Huh? No. Why?”YN rose from her seat as people began pouring outside, and Bakugou watched her go with a confused scowl. “What the fuck was that about?” Bakugou got up to leave and Kirishima followed, a cautious and curious glance in his eyes. They both stepped out of the inn, and saw everyone crowding the town square. There were double the people in the bar, and when Kirishima saw what everyone was looking at, he recoiled and grabbed Bakugou’s arm. In the middle of the town square was an elaborate sacrificial stand, with several spears placed in a circle. The two longest were in the centre, on a pyre that burned bright into the night. One had a long, dark cloak on it, which miraculously hadn’t caught fire yet and waved in the thick night wind. The other was the head of a grisly young man, with his eyes wide with fear and tongue lolling out. He still had colour in his face, but the blood was trailing down the spear and onto the pyre. It was a morbid sight, but villagers were dancing around it in joy. 

“He’s dead! The White Bear is dead!” 

“She did it!” 

Though the sight was one to behold, Bakugou and Kirishima both slowly relaxed once they realised that their work was done for them. Bakugou glanced over to see YN looking at the pyre with a satisfied look.

“Well, they’re happy.” She crossed her arms, looking at them out of the corner of her eye. Bakugou noticed that when her black cloak moved, it showed a whole set of weapons around her waist and thighs. One had blood on the handle; an embellished dagger with a white bear motif. 

“It was you,” Kirishima whispered, clearly reaching the same conclusion as Bakugou.

 “Maybe it was.” YN shrugged. 

“You took his own weapon?” Bakugou couldn’t help but be impressed. 

“I never said that.” Despite her refusing to answer, it seemed more out of obligation to keep her ‘identity’ a secret, as opposed to actually lying to them.  “Wow.” Kirishima looked at YN with wide eyes. “So you...what, you go around saving people?” “Me?” YN turned back to the pyre, a smile on her face as she watched it burn. “I would never. That’s made for people who have far too much free time on their hands.” Bakugou scoffed. “Like the Mirrored what’s-her-nuts.” “Exactly.” YN sounded both ready to burst in laughter, and posh at the same time. “Like the Mirrored what’s-her-nuts.” 

“Where will you go?” Kirishima’s voice was laced with concern.

 “Oh, I don’t know. Wherever the sand and the dirt takes me, I suppose. Wherever the Mirrored Darkryder is needed most.” YN turned with a flourish, her cape flicking behind her as she slowly walked into the woods, fading into the dark with what felt like too sudden of an exit. Bakugou looked at Kirishima.

 “Do you think we’ll ever see her again?” Kirishima sighed, eyes wide and looking at where she seemed to become shadow. 

“No.” Bakugou shook his head, feeling as though the moment was something monumental. 

“I don’t think we will.” 

[seventeenwrites]

Catharsis - Chapter Two

-> Group: The Boyz

-> Type: Short Series

-> Member(s) of Interest: Sunwoo

-> Word Count: ~2.9k

-> Genre: angst, fluff, apocalypse au

-> Warnings: alien apocalypse, guns/weapons, blood, violence, death, cursing, female MC

-> Playlist: Hold You in My Arms by Ray LaMontagne; All Right Now by Angel Olsen; Saccharine by Atta Boy; Love & Hate by Michael Kiwanuka

-> a/n: Hey guys! Here's chapter two! Again, I want to emphasize that my goal with this series is to portray a kind of love which transcends any kind of labels we’ve assigned to love (romantic, platonic, familial, etc.). It may seem a bit hard-and-fast, but I think that is a reflection of the world around these characters. When you don’t know if you will live to see another day, when you are surrounded by death and tragedy, you live and you love without regrets, or at least you try your damnedest to.

Catharsis.

And then, fortunately, my eyes opened. Now, this wasn’t fortunate because I was alive, but rather because of the way I was alive. The fire that had separated Sunwoo and I the night before had died, but the coals were still glowing, so that they could easily be re-ignited. Just beyond the pit lay Sunwoo, still sleeping. One of his shoes had been thrown six feet away in the middle of the night, and his left arm was almost completely smothering his face.

Before I had time to laugh at him, a voice interrupted me.

“Oh, Ari! I’m assuming Sunny filled you in last night.” I whipped my head in the direction of the voice, to find the same man who had yelled at us the night before. Jacob, right? When not puffy-faced and half-asleep, he was much better-looking. He wasn’t smiling, but his eyes popped out and his cheekbones were raised nonetheless, in a way that reminded me of my mother's face in her youth. Next to Jacob was another man, who I could immediately tell was the leader of whatever this place was. His nose high on his face and his brow heavy, he was reminiscent of a Renaissance sculpture, elegantly beautiful, yet intimidatingly powerful. He was also impressively clean; everything from his ears to his nail beds were devoid of even a single smudge of dirt.

“Oh. Uh, yeah. I think so,” I said, sitting up and wrapping the blanket around myself, suddenly self-conscious of my dirty T-shirt and basketball shorts.

“Good. Sangyeon and I are gonna go collect more firewood. There’s berries and nuts in those if you get hungry.” Jacob pointed to a collection of miscellaneous containers by the centermost tent. Wooden crates, mason jars, old metal lunch boxes decorated with superheroes and princesses, even a piggy bank. Resourceful. Smart, I thought to myself. I turned back to the two men, to find that Jacob had already started walking away. Sangyeon still stood before me and assessed me for a few seconds, slightly nodding his head and furrowing his brow.

“We’ll be back,” he said before slinging a backpack over one shoulder and following Jacob out of the camp. I didn’t blame him. If I was running a camp and one of my members suddenly showed up with a random girl, I would be suspicious, too.

As the day got brighter, more of the members woke up and came to greet me, and I got to know more about who these people were and how this place worked. There was Kevin, who came out of the same tent as Jacob, and who was a self-proclaimed genius chef, but judging by the defined musculature on his small figure, he was useful for more than his culinary skills. In the next tent there was Changmin and Chanhee, who seemed to be attached at the hip; they were both lean, perfect for long-distance running. The next tent housed Eric and Haknyeon, who were both robust and muscular, obvious fighters. The last tent was home to Juyeon, Younghoon, and Hyunjae, who entered last and were all visibly athletic, with their long and sturdy physiques. I had finally figured it out. This place was a powerhouse. No Echo would be a match for these boys.

“Always tardy, huh, sleepyheads?” Changmin jested towards the last three to join our circle around the dead fire.

“SHHH!” Eric suddenly play-whispered, “You’ll wake the baby.” He pointed towards Sunwoo’s still-sleeping figure.

“Eric, you’re literally younger than him,” Kevin laughed while trying to catch berries in his mouth, and failing. Hilariously.

“By like eight months!” Eric shouted, a slight pout donning his face.

“That’s pretty significant, if you ask me.” We all looked down at Sunwoo, whose arm was still covering his eyes, but whose mouth was visibly quivering to maintain a laugh. He peeked out beneath his arm to see what Eric’s response would be, but Haknyeon was already holding Eric back.

“Okay, babies. Let’s calm down. Jacob and Sangyeon will be back soon and I’m sure they’ll have food.” Juyeon hushed-- his voice had a way of calming the boys down that could only have been achieved through years of trust and reliability. His voice and the mention of food seemed to lull the pretend conflict, and pretty soon, side conversations enveloped the entire group. I sat and watched Sunwoo. He was chatting with Kevin who was right next to him, and he was laughing at something, his head thrown back. I found myself smiling. Two smiles in 24 hours. That’s gotta be a record.

Sunwoo’s eyes met mine and I felt my heart leap. He excused himself from his conversation and walked over to sit next to me, placing his hand on top of mine. Again, I noted just how soft his hands were. And warm too, compared to the frigid morning air. As if feeling his warmth made me colder, a shiver traveled down my spine.

“Cold?” Sunwoo asked. I nodded in reply. “Let me in there, then,” he said, pointing at my blanket. I opened it and he stuck himself into my arms, grabbing them to close on top of him. He was warm. Physically, but he also warmed me from the inside, like drinking a cup of hot cocoa after playing in the snow, or getting a hug from your mom after your first piano recital. He felt like home.

-------

When Jacob and Sangyeon came back, they were dragging a deer behind them, backpacks chock full of firewood. The boys all scrambled up excitedly; I could only make out random interjections and complaints about hunger from the younger ones.

“You’ll finally get to see me in action, Ari,” Kevin quipped, gathering random tools and ingredients to cook the deer with.

Sangyeon walked up to Sunwoo and I, placing his bag by his feet and looking me up and down, just like he had before he left. Still suspicious of me, I guess. He turned his eyes to the boy next to me, looking him up and down as well, and started, “Go get some water from the stream, will you?”

“Sangyeon, come on! It’s been three weeks already, surely I can do something else?”

“Sunny, I’m sorry, but your legs obviously just not healed yet.”

Sunwoo looked as though he was going to protest again, but Jacob cut in before he could: “Doctor’s orders, bud. I’ll take a look at it again later today.”

Shoulders slumped, Sunwoo dramatically sighed and grabbed my hand, dragging me along with him.

“I’ve been on water duty for three weeks, now. I mean, I understand. They care about me; they want me to be safe, and the path to the stream is clear and short-- almost impossible to get hurt. But like, come on. Three weeks of getting water. I’m sick of this damn path!” He joked, swatting a vine out of his way.

“What happened to your leg, anyway?” I asked. “If you don’t mind sharing,” I quickly added, suddenly afraid that it was too personal.

Sunwoo stopped in his tracks, looking at the ground. I could see the wheels turning in his head, as if he was trying to figure out how much of himself to reveal to me. He sighed and let go of my hand, turning to face me. His eyebrows were furrowed as he looked at me, the morning sunlight shining only on the right half of his face.

“It was about two months ago. A few of us were out looking for clothes and other essentials. We figured we’d go about ten miles east and get to the city that used to be there, hit all of the convenience stores and shopping malls. But we strayed too far from camp, and we got lost on our way back. By sundown we were in the middle of the woods with no shelter, no food, nothing.

“We were ambushed in the middle of the night. Those bastards were wearing our own faces. We couldn’t tell who was real and who was an Echo. Hyunjae did this to me,” he said, referencing his injured ankle, “Pushed me into a big tree trunk. I forgive him, obviously. It was crazy, and he was trying to protect himself. That same night…” he trailed off.

I could tell that he was about to cry, since he was starting to choke on his words, “That same night, I-- I killed one of our guys. Didn’t know it was him until it was too late, until he was already bleeding red. I shot him. He was flailing around all crazy-like with his knife. I didn’t know if he was him or an Echo, so I shot him. I should've-- I should’ve shot his foot, or his hand, to see his blood. But I didn’t. I got him right underneath the heart. Missed it by a hair. So I held him as he went. For thirteen minutes, I held him. I looked him in the eyes as the life left ‘em and I held his hands as they went limp. That poor fucking bastard, I’m so sorry to him.”

Sunwoo was crying. It was a cry I had never seen or heard from a human before. It was absolutely, heart-wrenchingly tragic, and the only thing I could do for him was hold him. I didn’t tell him that it wasn’t his fault, because he knew that already. I didn’t tell him that he was still a good person, because he knew that already. I didn’t tell him that I loved him, because he knew that, too.

I didn’t tell him that his member was in a better place, because we both knew it wasn’t true.

-------

When we got to the stream, we were holding hands again. Sunwoo was still wiping tears off of his face with his free hand, but he was smiling again.

“Whaddya say, Ari? Care for a little dip before we head back?” Sunwoo teased, rocking his shoulders as if to say I’m joking, but if you’re down, then I’m really fucking down.

“Fine, kid,” I chortled, “but only because that water looks deliciously crisp right now.”

I turned away to place all of the water buckets on the ground, and when I turned back, Sunwoo was standing a yard or two away, facing the water. He reached down and took his shirt off in a swift and seamless motion, one which seemed to me only men were capable of performing. The sunlight kissed his skin, illuminating its smooth and tanned surface. The shadows of his shoulder blades danced across his back as he attempted to balance on a stepping stone. The gentle slope of his neck blended seamlessly into the crease of his spine which traveled all the way down his back, like a book that I never wanted to stop reading. His arms, outstretched in a balancing act, were lean, yet capable and sturdy shooting arms, slightly different in size as a reflection of his right-handedness.

He turned around to look at me, a wide smile on his face. His eyes were still bloodshot and puffy from crying, and his face still splotchy, but his smile-- his smile was brighter than the light of any sun. I didn’t think I had ever seen anyone or anything so beautiful in my life. I smiled back at him, and I felt my own eyes start to well up with tears.

“Come on, Ari! This stream isn’t gonna skinny-dip itself!” Forgiving his slightly awkward--yet adorable--phrasing, I accepted his challenge, jumping in with him.

As our heads both emerged, we held hands under the water, my thumb rubbing the soft skin of his. He leaned in and placed a kiss on the top of my ear, before settling his face into the crook of my neck. And then, again, we felt like nothing more than an extension of the earth below our feet and the sky above our heads.

Catharsis.

-------

Sunwoo and I arrived back at camp and we were met with ten horrified faces. To be fair, we looked an absolute mess. Our clothes were sopping wet, hanging off of our bodies like rags. As our feet had been too wet to put our shoes back on, we walked back barefoot, as evidenced by the dirt, mud, and scratches littering our ankles and calves. Our hair, like something out of a horror movie, dangling in front of our faces in stringy and curly sections.

“Sunny! What the heck, dude?” Jacob cried, staring in shock at Sunwoo’s now dirty and tattered bandage on his ankle. Sunwoo half-smiled, scratching the back of his neck.

“Sorry, Cobie. You should’ve seen the stream today! It was so beautiful; we just had to swim in it!” He replied, a slight pout on his lips.

Chanhee was sitting at the fire a few feet away, a sly smile engulfing his face. “Oh sure,” he teased, “Swimming. I bet that’s all you two were doing.” He puckered his lips and wrapped his arms around himself, a type of mockery I hadn’t seen since high school. I couldn’t help but giggle at him, even if he was jumping to conclusions, and incorrect ones, at that.

Sunwoo and I hadn’t kissed. We didn’t need to, and maybe we never would. We only needed to hold each other. And frankly, that’s all I wanted to do for the rest of my days.

As Jacob unwrapped the bandage from Sunwoo’s ankle, his smile faltered for a second before he replaced it. I knew that look. I grabbed his wrist to stop him.

“What is it?” Jacob looked at me, contemplating, then turned to Sunwoo and sighed. He resumed his faux angry persona from earlier, resembling a loving parent.

“This is why I told you to be careful, Sunny! The wound must have reopened at some point, and you got it dirty when you were out there. It should be fine if we wash it and dress it with herbs, but you’re gonna have to stay off of it for longer-- and no more playing in dirt, for Christ’s sake, Sunny.” Sunwoo looked like a child getting scolded for tracking dirt into the house, but I could see the twinkle of mischief still ever-bright in his innocent eyes.

Sangyeon walked over to us, still as reserved and stoic as ever. He looked me over as he always did, eyes filled with suspicion and piqued interest. He turned to Jacob, who I had figured out was something of a second-in-command.

“We’ve received word of a pack about a mile west. We should head out now, while it’s still bright out,” he turned to look at Sunwoo, still talking to Jacob“This is sort of an all-hands-on-deck situation. Is he okay to shoot?”

Sunwoo replied for Jacob by standing up, still young and eager to prove himself, “I’m fine, I promise! I’m not in pain, and my ankle won’t affect my shooting if I’m sniping. Sir.” Sangyeon looked Sunwoo up and down, slightly nodding his head, then reached out to pat him on the shoulder.

“Don’t get hurt again, buddy. We can’t lose anyone else.” That was the first time I had seen Sangyeon let his guard down, and I even saw a tear slip out of the corner of his left eye. Sunwoo bit his lip in an attempt to suppress the tears he had already let go that morning. Sangyeon was quick to wipe it and resume his cold air, though, and he turned to look at me, unsure of what to do with me.

“What do you mean you received word? And why are you seeking out Echoes? Shouldn’t we be, like, hiding from them?” I asked.

Sangyeon stared at me again. “I hear you’re good with a knife.”

“Not good. Excellent.”

He nodded and walked off, leaving my questions unanswered, to which I looked at Sunwoo in disbelief.

A slight smile spread across Sunwoo’s face and he started walking towards one of the smaller tents, expecting me to follow him. When I walked in, I saw more radios than I had ever seen in my life. Old ones that couldn’t have been less than 60 years old, the ones that were built into flashlights, walkie talkies, even old car radios.

“Kid, what the hell is this?” I asked, dumbfounded.

“This, Ari, is anything that can send or receive signals through the next hundred miles. Over the year and a half we’ve been here, we’ve found all of them.”

“B--But why?”

“So we can get them before they get us. There are lots of us out there, we send word to each other if we see or hear of Echoes that we can’t get ourselves.”

The wheels in my head were turning so quickly, and I still couldn’t understand it.

“So-- So you guys actually… hunt Echoes? You don’t just run from them?”

“That’s right. And we’re gonna keep hunting them. Until every one of those bastards is six feet under.”

It all finally made sense. How organized and resourceful they all were. How skilled they all were at fighting. The hierarchy and positions they all assumed, with Sangyeon at the top. This wasn’t a camp.

It was a machine. An Echo-hunting machine.

[frangipanidownunder]

Still with me, Scully?: fic

A bad case, a snowstorm, a grumpy Scully, a sorry Mulder in a one-bed tropefest story for your entertainment.

The outside looks promising enough. The neon light blinks Vacancy. A low-slung roof over a festively decorated door, wreath shimmering with silver tinsel and tiny jewel lights twinkling. He chances a look over his shoulder. She’s round-shouldered, down-in-the-mouth, pale like the frost just starting to crackle over the motel windows.

“Still with me Scully?”

She stuffs her hands deep into her pockets and he imagines those fine fingers squeezing the life out of him, her cold eyes glinting as he gasps her name, an apology and a declaration of love all wrapped up one final exhalation. It’s been a bad case. Really bad. Silent treatment for the hours lost on the road. Face turned to the grimy roadside all the way; surely, she has a cricked neck and yet another excuse to beat him up, down and sideways.

The door creaks open and the smell of pine, sawdust and years of lost souls hits him. “Looks all right,” he says, mustering some cheer that isn’t exactly Christmassy but definitely holds a note of the hopefulness that comes at this time of year. The end of something, the beginning of something. A chance to reset. She doesn’t respond, merely checks out the tree in the corner with its bright decorations. He follows her gaze and his eyes rest on a golden bauble in the shape of a teardrop. Of course.

The clerk flumps open a dusty ledger and peruses the listing, umming and ahing ostentatiously. Any minute she’ll explode; he can see the blast brooding in her flaring nostrils and her half-rolled lips. The eyebrow is shooting up and up. Ladies and gentlemen, we have lift off.

“Only one room left,” the clerk declares. “It’s out round back.” He turns and unhooks a loop of keys and gives them to Mulder. “You and the missus’ll be nice and cosy, though. There’s a bucket of firewood in each room. Matches are on the sideboard. TV don’t work but I’m sure you’ve got other ways to keep yourselves occupied. Storm’s coming.”

Yes, it is, Mulder thinks as the keys feel like stone in his hand. He turns to face his partner and swallows. “Um. You still with me, Scully?”

The teardrop on the Christmas tree wobbles and falls to the floor as she lets the door slam behind her.

The room is…cosy. But not in the rich timber panelling, mellow lighting, roaring fireplace, fleecy quilted bed linen and luxurious drapes at the windows kind of way. More the six foot by six foot, dingy broom cupboard way. A single, square window the size of a postage stamp is opaque with dust not frost. The curtains hang limply from a bent pelmet. The sideboard is more like a child’s school desk. He guesses the tv hasn’t worked since colour came in. The fireplace is the only saving grace. Mulder gets to work straightaway, striking each flimsy match from the small book as a penance prayer. Finally, the penultimate redhead catches and he protects the small orange flame of hope with his cupped hands.

“I’m so sorry this happened,” he says to her. She’s on the bed. Or in it, perhaps, because it’s folded up around her making her look like a young orphan fresh off the train at Miss O’Leary’s Home for Young Innocents. She grunts at him and sighs forever.

The fire take hold and he lets himself smile at the small victory. “Ta-da,” he declares with jazz hands that he hopes are conciliatory, but from the raised eyebrow and averted gaze are probably more fuel for her inner fire. How can one be simultaneously icy and fiery? Scully is the enigma of all enigmas.

“I’ll take the…” he looks around for another item of furniture. There is none. “Floor?”

She tuts and rolls the small opal earring around in her right lobe. It catches the reflection of the fire and an amber glow emerges from the pearlescent surround. It’s Scully in an earring, he muses. “It’s okay, Mulder. We’re grown-ups.” She offers him a curt smile, one that says, ‘well at least one of us is’.

“I promise not to play footsie,” he says as the fire licks and spits. “If you promise not to drool on me.”

Between her fingers, she’s made a knot of the coverlet. She drops it, straightens it out and slides him a smile, somewhere between a white flag and a red flag. He can’t quite work out which it is, but the room is warming up and maybe she’s thawing a little too.

The fire burns out some time during the small hours. His feet and the small of his back are exposed and his brain is unhelpfully supplying all the dumb things he’s ever done during their partnership. It’s quite the extensive playlist. He can’t move, because he’ll wake her. But he does lift his head to see her nested in the pillow, face like an angel, a russet halo framing her forehead. The delicacy of her snoring is somewhat comforting, the salve for the burn his mind is meting out.

There’s a weighty silence around them. The profound quiet of a snowfall. Through the slit in the curtain he thinks he can see the rising accumulation on the window sill. The blind face of the tv screen is visible in the strange light. He stares at it like he might on one of his usual insomniac nights. What’s the difference between a blank screen and a movie he’s seen a hundred times? The mind-stultifying effect is what he’s seeking.

She shifts. Turns to him and the tip of her nose brushes his. She blows out a slightly acidic breath and it warms him more than she’d consider medically possible. But Dr Scully doesn’t know everything. They’re both as uneducated when it comes to affairs of the heart. True affairs of the heart, not the hormone or power fuelled relationships they’ve both endured in the past. He loves her. She loves him. It’s as clear as the pure snow that’s undoubtedly settling outside. But it’s easier to plough through life without acknowledging the build-up, without gritting the paths to make their way through safer. No, they’ll be wading through knee-high snow for a while to come.

His sigh is louder than he anticipated and her eyes flicker open. “Sorry, Scully,” he whispers and she twitches her nose, wets her lips. She wriggles her hands between her legs and her knees boop his groin. Now it’s her turn to apologise. Although it’s debatable who’s more embarrassed. “Do you want me to start the fire again?”

“Wazzatime?”

“Too early for coffee, too late for coffee. Want coffee?”

She nods and he gets up, starts the fire first time and fumbles for the kettle and supplies. She’s found an extra pair of woolly socks and slips them on. Her crumpled appearance makes him almost fold in half. She’s a glorious sight to behold. His eyes take her in and he finds his breath again. He realises in that moment he would dearly sell his soul to the devil to wake up with her every morning and make her coffee. He hands her a cup and crawls next to her, so their feet are both flat to the flames, thighs pressed together.

“Thank you,” she murmurs, and his heart lights up.

“It’s snowing.”

“Figures.”

“Think you could bear another night here?”

She dips her mouth to the coffee. “Seems to me there won’t be much of a choice if the car’s stuck.” She takes another sip. “Everything is working against us, here.”

“Seems that way. Can’t win a trick.”

“But you do make a good fire, Mulder. So consider that a win.”

He does. He considers it the win of the century. Up there with the Knicks smashing the 76ers in 94.

“So you’re still with me, Scully?”

She rubs his ankle with her fuzzy socks and he lifts his foot so that hers slips under his. “Always,” she whispers and the coffee suddenly tastes like a promise of something better to come.