#which meant that most of the snow that fell today came through as rain

[phoenixiancrystallist]

Month 1, day 8

MOAR ANIMATION WOOOOO

Today was a snow day so I got the day off and tomorrow is also a snow day so I got to stay up late doing even more animation :D

[tryingmybestpls]

needy

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader

Summary: Bucky and the reader enjoy a rainy day after a mission.

Word Count: 1.6k

Rating: T

Warnings: tooth rotting sweetness

She wasn't used to the rain.

Y/N had grown up in the middle of the desert, in a place where one day of the year the sky would open up for maybe thirty minutes and that's it-that's all the rain you get. When it did rain in her little dry corner of the planet, it was something to cherish. Rain had excited her then and it surely excited her now.

Being apart of the Avengers meant living in New York State, and living in the state meant more precipitation. Rain, snow, sleet-Y/N now got to experience it all. And while she loved the ability to finally have that white Christmas she always dreamed of, rain will always have her heart.

Bucky, on the other hand, hated the rain.

Rain to him meant leaky roofs and a higher chance of getting sick. It meant thinking about the times he had missions where it rained or during the war when the rain would be pelting down on them, turning the ground into mud that caused you to sink in mid-calf. Bucky have been around all his life, so for him the novelty of it never even existed. It was an inconvenience.

Yet, that didn't stop him from giving into Y/N and her rainy day shenanigans.

For Y/N, rain meant taking naps with the windows open, eating a big bowl of soup, and cuddling for most of the day. Sometimes she found ways to get caught in the rain. Y/N would say that she just had to go to the store for just this one thing when in reality, she just craved those few minutes in between the car and the store. Her hand in Bucky's as they walked through puddles, fat raindrops falling against the umbrella she was holding for the two of them. Or she would claim that she needed to get something from the car and Bucky would catch her just standing out in the rain, getting soaked from head to toe. While he wanted to be mad at her when she would come in shivering, he just couldn’t. Bucky loved seeing her happy.

And today was no different.

The couple had woken up to rain hitting the large window next to their bed. Y/N had been gone on a month long mission and had barely gotten home last night, so waking up on a Saturday morning to it absolutely pouring outside was exactly what they both needed. Bucky just wrapped his vibranium arm around her a little tighter and pressed his lips against her bare shoulder as she spied the dark grey skies peeking through the cracks of the blinds. Y/N had just smiled in response, her hand moving to hold his before she fell back asleep.

On days like this, it was so much easier to pretend that that they were in their own little world. It was so much easier to pretend that they weren't an Avenger and an ex-assassin, weren't two current super spies. They were just a boyfriend and a girlfriend that lived together. The outside world didn't exist, not at all. It was just Y/N Y/L/N and Bucky Barnes.

When they finally made their way into the kitchen, the rain had eased up for a bit. Y/N threw the windows open, letting the petrichor invade the house as her and Bucky ate breakfast. They were taking everything a bit slow, carefully easing into their rainy day. After breakfast, Y/N changed into clothes that she "borrowed" from her boyfriend and Bucky just changed into a different shirt and a different pair of sweatpants.

Netflix was almost immediately on the television, playing some movie that Y/N had been eying for some time now. Bucky sat on the floor in front of the couch so Y/N could carefully braid his hair. He loved it when she did this, when she mindlessly braided parts of his hair. The super soldier was putty in her hands as she worked, her eyes never leaving the screen. He was so relaxed that he found himself dozing off before the plot of the movie really got going. Y/N was more than happy to let him sleep because she knew that her soldier desperately needed it.

When Bucky woke up a couple of hours later , the movie was over and some true crime documentary was playing on the TV instead. He sat up a little straighter, turning his head to see that Y/N was in the kitchen. He can hear her humming softly as she stirs something on the stove-tomato soup, he guesses by the scent. The ex-assassin stands up, stretching as he walks over to her. She smiles at him, especially as he wraps his arms around her from behind, pressing his lips against her cheek. Bucky Barnes was always awfully affectionate with her, almost like he was trying to make up for all of those years he missed while under the control of Hydra.

Bucky didn't ask if she needs help as she starts making grilled cheeses. Last time he helped out in the kitchen on a rainy day, he burnt the grilled cheeses so bad that the whole thing caught on fire. Ever since then, Y/N refuses to let him help on her days, telling that she just wants to take care of him so he can sit back and relax. Bucky knew that was just a nice way to say that he was a shitty ass cool. The super soldier gets the two periwinkle colored bowls and two plates of the same color. They eat in silence, not needing to talk. Her feet were in Bucky's lap, her eyes glued to the screen as hardened detectives go into detail about some grizzly crime.

It was part of her unwinding. Y/N always found a new true crime documentary to watch when she came home. Learning about these different crimes let her turn her mind off, letting her ease away from her mission. It made the stress slip away. Bucky, on the other hand, needed reassurance after a mission. He needed Y/N there, needed to know that that he was still Bucky Barnes and that she still loved him.

It starts raining again as they do the dishes, a chill slipping though the open windows. The sound of the downpour outside is a welcome melody as they clean up from lunch. Of course the windows are shut once more as they decide to move back to the bedroom. If it was Y/N's choice, she'd leave them open all day but Bucky said something about safety and what if the wind swifts and water gets into the house and blah blah blah. Y/N wasn't going to fight him over it when the bed was beckoning her, begging her to come lay in it.

With their stomachs full of grilled cheeses and tomato soup, they walked into the bedroom. It wasn't just because they were tired, it's just that rainy days like this always subconsciously tell the two of them to take a nap (or three in Bucky's case). As soon as her body hit the mattress, Y/N felt like she was melting away, her eyes feeling like they're being weighed down by Mjölnir. Bucky made sure to open the window just a crack, just enough so that she can listen to sound of the storm outside.

Bucky climbed into the bed, pulling her into his arms after pulling the comforter around them. She smiled, pressing her lips against his scruff covered jaw as his hand moved to rest on her hip. The issues of the outside world didn't matter on days like this, the things they've both done disappeared into the ash colored sheets as they sunk further into the bed. The only noise was their mixed breathing and the rain hitting various surfaces outside, cleaning everything it came in contact with.

Y/N rested her forehead a little above his heart, Bucky's head immediately moving to rest on top of it. He kisses the crown of her head, not once but twice, his lips lingering a few seconds longer than usual with the second one. He inhaled deeply, the scent of her citrusy shampoo filling his nose, his lungs. Bucky's arms wrapped around a little tighter, making sure she couldn't slip away and leave him.

Whenever either of them left on a mission, they both felt empty, which then made them desperate for each other as soon as they were reunited. Both Y/N and Bucky hadn't had the easiest of lives. They both needed that constant reassurance that that their partner wasn't going to leave and following an extremely long mission, that was increased ten-fold. So that meant on a day like today, their legs were entangled and they were pressed against each other. Both of them needed to make sure that it was incredibly clear that they had nothing but love for their partner, that they needed each other.

Y/N felt her eyes getting heavier and heavier as her body got tugged towards her awaiting slumber. Bucky wasn't too far behind her, almost unable to keep his eyes open. She let out a yawn, stretching her legs, her toes curling. The mission had drained Y/N more than she was willing to admit and Bucky hadn’t had a good night’s sleep since before she left for the mission. The seemingly endless rain and the chill that had permeated the room gave them the perfect conditions for a much needed nap.

"I love you, doll." Bucky murmurs softly, just loud enough for Y/N to hear as her eyes fluttered shut. Her lips stretched into a small smile.

"I love you too, Bucky."

[oscar-lettjohanssonloveme]

Snow White (Ms Venablex reader)

i made this 4am lol..google translate yk? Here is pt 2

————

“What are you still doing here?", The sharp voice of Ms. Venable made you startled.

You must be really tired if you didn't hear her coming with her cane.

You turned to her uncertainly.

"I couldn't sleep and had a cup of water .. I'm sorry Ms. Venable .."

Ms. Venable lifted her chin and came up to you. The click of her cane was the only sound that filled the hallway at that moment.

"It's 4 am Y / N .." she said when she was standing in front of you.

You didn't know exactly what she was trying to say, so you just nodded.

"I'm sorry .." you repeated, looking away.

"I'll take you to your room .." she said firmly.

"You really don't have to-" you started, but she was already walking past you in the direction of your room and ignoring you.

It wasn't that you didn't want to. The problem was, you acted like an idiot around her.

Reluctantly you trotted after her.

"So .." Ms. Venable began.

"Why could not you sleep?"

"Actually, it's nothing .." you mumbled.

"But?" She asked, looking at you sideways.

"It's the silence that bothers me .." you whispered.

"Before the apocalypse, I lived in a very rainy area. And it feels weird to fall asleep without hearing the rain pounding against my window .."

"I see .." she said simply.

"But as I said, actually it's nothing. I've been living like this for almost 19 months .. while almost the whole world is no longer alive .. So it's okay .." you added.

"You don't have to apologize .." she started.

"Just because Hell is out there doesn't mean Heaven is in here .."

You nodded.

You and Ms. Venable were silent the rest of the way, but the silence was in no way uncomfortable.

Ms. Venable stopped in front of your room.

"I can come in with you if you want .." she said casually, looking down at her cane.

"You really don't have to .. go to bed and be happy that you can sleep ..", you smiled at her.

"To be honest, I can't sleep either .." she said, narrowing her eyes.

"Oh .." you exclaimed.

"Then come in ..".

You opened your room door and went ahead.

Behind you you heard Ms. Venable follow you and close the door.

It wasn't the first time Ms. Venable was in your room.

Like many rooms, yours had a fireplace that served as heating.

You sat down on the sofa across from the fireplace and Ms. Venable sat down next to you.

Not a word was spoken. You and Ms. Venable just sat and stared into the fire.

And that was okay.

Ms. Venable's mind was on the reason she couldn't sleep.

Tomorrow's day, Halloween.

As much as she loathed and hated all these people, she was by no means a murderer. No matter how condescending she'd been to her employees, no matter how cold she'd been, murder was a whole other league.

Worse was the thought of the anti-christ sitting in her outpost waiting for whatever.

Ms. Venable hated him.

But she hated herself much more for letting him humiliate her so.

Worst of all, you saw her like that ...

You were after her the one for the interview.

————————

Ms Venable left the room with her dress half open.

"Ms Venable I-", your voice faltered.

Her jaw dropped when she heard your voice behind her.

She stopped and closed her eyes, it was all a disaster.

Behind her she heard your quick steps as you walked towards her.

"What did he do to you?", Your voice was trembling.

She turned and looked down at you. Tears glittered in your eyes.

And when she saw the way you looked at her she couldn't stop more tears from running down her face.

You reached out your hand to wipe it away.

"Miss Y / L / N .." bellowed a voice behind you.

You winced and quickly lowered your hand before turning to Michael Langdon.

————————

Ms. Venable was brought back to the present when your body fell into her lap.

"Y / N ..", she exclaimed in shock and lowered her eyes to see that you had fallen asleep.

At this point, her body stiffened under you.

It felt kind of weird how you lay there and Ms Venable couldn't tell if she liked it or hated it.

But she didn't want to wake you up, which is why she didn't move at first.

And while she watched you sleep in her lap, she couldn't help but feel guilty.

You too would die tomorrow because of her. And somehow she didn't want that, because you didn't deserve it.

She reached out her hand and started combing through your hair.

You were the only one who hadn't complained about the circumstances of the outpost.

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

When you came into the room for dinner on the first evening, you sat between Timothy and Coco.

You looked curiously at the small cube on your plate.

"What is that?" You asked without any disgust in your voice. It was curiosity.

"It is not possible for us to cook properly .." explained Timothy.

"And that's why these cubes exist, they contain everything you need to be full and to eat healthily .."

"Fascinating .." you mumbled and poked the cube with your fork.

"Fascinating .." Ms Venable repeated quietly at the end of the table as she watched you.

"With these dice you could have helped so many people who were starving ..." you said.

The others seemed to be making fun of why you blushed. You didn't even notice the brown eyes staring at you.

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

Ms. Venable smiled when she remembered it.

"Fascinating ...", she repeated your words again.

Unlike the others, you were grateful; thankful for your own room, thankful for the clothes, thankful for the warmth, and also thankful for the cubes, ...

just grateful to be alive.

And even when the sun wasn't shining, you had become the sun of Outpost 3.

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

Mallory gave you 4 more books to put on the shelves.

Coco came into the library, followed by Mr. Gallant.

"I don't understand why you always help the Grays ..", Coco sighed and let himself fall on the sofa.

"I don't know how it is with you, but a parents taught me to clear away my stuff myself .." you answered annoyed.

You didn't really like Coco, she always treated Mallory like shit, even though she did so much for Coco.

"We didn't pay $ 500 million to clean up now .." said Mr. Gallant, sitting next to Coco.

You shook your head blankly. What was the meaning of money now?

The tactful knock of Ms. Venable's cane made your head wander towards the door.

You did not go unnoticed how the bodies of the other people in the room stiffened at the noise.

You never really understood why everyone was so afraid of her.

Sure, the way she treated others wasn't exactly moral and how proud she walked despite her disability was a bit intimidating, but still she was only human.

And somehow you found her attitude interesting and you made it your business to find out what was behind the rock-hard shell that she showed everyone.

"Ms Venable ..", you were happy when she entered the room.

She raised her eyes to you and raised an eyebrow, which made you blush.

"What are you doing up there?" She asked, giving you a disapproving look.

'Up there,' meant the ladder that leaned against the bookcase so you could help Mallory sort the books.

"Uhm..I-" you stuttered.

"Yes?" She asked sharply, making Coco and Mr. Gallant giggle.

"I don't know what's so funny about that .." she hissed and stared at the two who immediately fell silent.

"I help Mallory sorting the books .. I had nothing to do and wanted to help her .. We're almost done anyway .." you said and her attention was directed back to you.

"Didn't I explain that the Grays serve the Purples and not the other way around ..?"

"You did, but-"

"Your place is not with them, you wear purple .. Or do you want to wear gray from today? I don't think anyone would have a problem if we had another servant from today .."

"But that's bullshit .." you snapped.

"For my whole life I was told that all people are worth the same, no matter how rich, no matter what gender, no matter what skin color. And I am sure that you were brought up under these standards, Ms. Venable. And only because the world is dying, social skills and sociability do not have to die with it .. "

When the words left your mouth, you immediately regretted it. Your eyes widened and you clapped your hand over your mouth.

Ms. Venable's eyes sparkled with anger.

"You'd better watch your loose mouth, Miss Y / L / N .." she began quietly.

"Or you end up like Stu ..."

That was the last thing she said before she left the room and the tapping of her cane continued to recede.

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

Ms. Venable knew the way she sat here wasn't right.

But she knew she could never be this close to you again and that was why she couldn't leave.

She had never met anyone as selfless as you were.

You seemed like the only one at the outpost who wasn't n place in the sanctuary argued.

And Ms. Venable also knew that it wasn't easy for you, even though you were always so nice to everyone.

How many times had she stood at your door and heard you cry?

You too had lost family, friends and everything else, but you were afraid of looking ungrateful, which is why you didn't show your grief to anyone, but she heard you. And every time she just wanted to open your door and make it stop.

The idea of ​​you curling up on your bed and sobbing inside made her sick.

But she knew it wasn't right. At least she felt like she was crossing a line when comforting you.

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

„What I miss most is the weight of full shopping bags in my hand .." said Coco and made you snort at the statement.

"What do you miss most Y / N?" She asked when she noticed your reaction.

It was evening, you didn't know exactly what day (Thursday? Friday?) And everyone was sitting in the library talking about their lives before the apocalypse and what they would miss most.

You thought about it for a moment. There was so much that you missed: your family, your friends, your job, ...

"I miss breathing .." you said.

"Breathe?" Dinah asked and grinned.

You blushed when you saw their amused faces.

"Yes .. so breathing real air, we have been breathing artificial oxygen for a year, because the air outside is supposed to be contaminated .. And I would like to breathe fresh air again .."

Your gaze fell on Ms. Venable when you noticed her watching you.

"Uhm .. what are you missing, Ms. Venable ..?" You asked her.

"Me?" She asked in surprise.

You nodded.

She looked away from you and looked into the fireplace. She was kind of embarrassed, but she didn't miss anything.

She liked being in charge of Outpost 3. And it was a nice feeling to be feared.

She had her own rules in this outpost: the Victorian dress code, the separation of the Grays and the Purples, and the lack of modern technology.

And she loved being the dictator of this outpost and everyone played by her rules.

"Family .." she said curtly without looking up from the fire.

You were surprised to hear that she had a family and you wanted to ask her about it.

Ms. Venable got up and left the room, your eyes fixed on her.

"Did you know she has a family?" Whispered Mr. Gallant.

You just shook your head.

Ms. Venable had never spoken about her life before the apocalypse as if she hadn't lived properly before.

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

You turned in her lap.

Ms. Venable instinctively lowered her gaze back to you.

There was no way she wanted you to wake up.

Again she remembered that she was going to kill you tomorrow.

You weren't allowed to die, you were too sweet, too innocent.

You were too important. Too important to her.

And Ms. Venable couldn't admit to herself that she was in love with you. From the first moment she saw you, a confused and crying mess with endless feelings of guilt for leaving your family behind, ever since she was in love with you and she wanted you to be hers.

But she had never felt this way before.

Ms. Venable was completely alien to any feelings of love and affection.

And how should she pass something like that on if she had never found out herself?

Her fingers traveled over your face and landed on your lips.

You woke up at the feeling and immediately opened your eyes.

Ms Venable immediately withdrew her hand as she stared into your sleepy eyes and wanted to jump up, but you were still on top of her.

"Ms Venable .." you whispered confused and sat up in her lap.

"I am sorry..".

She mumbled and picked up her cane.

"No ..", you cut her off and put your hand on her left hand, which was resting on the stick.

"It's okay.."

She slowly raised her right hand and brushed your hair back from your face.

Her brown eyes stared up at you as her hand lingered on your cheek.

There was a moment's hesitation before you leaned over and pressed your lips to hers.

At that moment, you were so scared that she would push you away and yell at you in disgust.

But she didn't, because she too was afraid, but much more of what she was feeling at the moment.

She just sat there, hand frozen on your cheek, her lips sealed with yours.

You are weak, Wilhemina

You shouldn't be here

That's wrong

Stop it!

The voice in her head screamed at her, but Ms. Venable ignored it. You would die anyway, it didn't matter what she did now anyway.

"I love you ..." she whispered against your lips.

"What?", You withdrew and looked at her in disbelief.

In the light of the fireplace you recognized the tear streaks that adorned her face. Like then you reached out your hand to wipe away her tears, but you hesitated because you were unsure whether you could touch her.

When she noticed this, she took your hand and placed it on her cheek.

"I love you, Y / N .." she said aloud this time.

"Oh Ms Venable..I-" you started but she put her hand on your mouth.

"You're not allergic to apples, are you?"

[crossroadsfossil]

106 degrees

Summary:

Here’s a fun science fact: Birds consistently run at a higher temperature than humans do. It tends to range between 99 degrees fahrenheit up to 112 degrees. Hawks’ own body temperature tends to self-regulate around 106 degrees.

This is important when you get caught in an autumn rainstorm with a villian you don’t really trust.

Also known as 5 times Hawks falls asleep on Dabi

Prompt: For something fluffier, how about Hawks can't stop falling asleep on Dabi because of how hot he runs. Dabi constantly has an arm full of bird and has no clue what to do

Bonus if they still didn’t trust each other the first time it happened

A03 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/31366130

Here’s a fun science fact: Birds consistently run at a higher temperature than humans do. It tends to range between 99 degrees Fahrenheit up to 112 degrees. Hawks’ own body temperature tends to self-regulate around 106 degrees.

It’s something he and Rumi discuss often, if only because Rumi liked to snuggle up to him and comments on it constantly. She has no room to talk since she also runs at a higher temperature. Granted, it’s not much higher than your usual human baseline. She runs about a hundred or a hundred and one, depending on the season.

Needless to say, Hawks is a very popular patrol partner in the winter. Add in his feathers (which are amazing insulation, despite not being meant for it) and the large fluffy jacket he’s never without, and it’s not surprising that he’s almost never alone in the cooler weather, even if most of his companions can’t keep up with him once he gets going.

Neither his feathers nor his jacket are doing him any good right now, as soaked through as they are. His day had gone from bad (a long day topped off with a meeting Dabi ‘forgot�� to tell him about) to worse (an incoming cold front) to absolutely terrible (a storm that was preceding the cold front, resulting in rain, sleet, snow, or all three since this was Japan after all).

As soon as the sky opened up, Hawks insisted they take shelter. He’d herded Dabi towards the closest abandoned warehouse. He ignored the expression Dabi sported as he broke in. He didn’t care what the villain thought or how entertained he was by the action. He was a practical man and it was abandoned. Besides, if he didn’t get out of the wind and rain, he was at serious risk of going into torpor. The gear he was wearing today wasn’t meant for repelling water and it was about as much use as an icepack in winter.

There were a list of things he didn’t want to happen around Dabi, and going into torpor was fairly high up on that list, alongside bullet points such as ‘getting drunk’, ‘getting high’ and ‘running into another hero’. The best Hawks could expect from Dabi was for the villain to light his feathers on fire. At worst, he figured Dabi wouldn’t be the only burnt nugget around after he was finished with Hawks.

“Hey birdie, I’m not opposed to a show but take me out for dinner first.” Dabi said, watching as Hawks shrugged out of his coat and feathers in one fluid movement, catching his jacket before it fell off completely. He let his feathers fall to the ground with a disgusting splat. Laundering those would be less of a hassle than laundering his jacket. He draped his jacket over a nearby box in the vain hope that it might dry a little. It probably wouldn’t, but who knows. Maybe if he annoys Dabi enough, the fire-quirk user might raise the temperature in the warehouse by a few degrees.

“Ha. Ha. Not everyone has a fire quirk, asshole.” Hawks replied, giving what remained of his wings a shake to get as much of the water out. A quick look around the warehouse revealed it wasn’t as secure as he had thought, with great gaping holes in several of the walls. He shivered as the wind blew through them and started looking for anywhere that would provide a barrier between himself and the wind. He watched enviously for a moment as Dabi rolled his shoulders and began steaming slightly, burning the moisture out of his clothes and coat.

He spotted a pile of boxes, with several piled up on three sides to make a small nook and started to walk towards it.

“So, what do you have for me?” He asked, sitting down and scooting until he hit the back ‘wall’ of boxes.

Dabi shrugged. “Nothing. Just wanted to see if you’d come.” He replied.

Hawks stared at him, not quite believing what he just heard. Dabi’s growing grin cemented the fact that he had not, in fact, misheard.

“You’re an asshole. You seriously just called me out here on a whim? I’ve got better things to do, Dabi.”

“What, rescue people? In this weather? I think not.” Dabi said, slinking towards Hawks. Instead of taking a seat on the box directly in front of him, Dabi decided that the best place to sit was practically in Hawks’ lap. He shoved the hero over and leaned against one of the boxes that made up a makeshift wall and smiled at Hawks, daring him to do anything about it.

“Dick. So what now? Are you going to suggest we play Shiritori or I-Spy to pass the time? Since you invited me out for a playdate, we might as well.”

“That is not what I did.”

“You did it on a whim. It sounds like either a playdate or you miiiiiiiiiissed meeee.” Hawks said in a sing-song tone, delighting in the way it made Dabi’s face scrunch up in irritation.

“We could play ‘how many burnt feathers does it take to get to the crispy chicken center’.” Dabi held up a palm, a blue flame flickering to life in the center of it. Hawks looked between the flame and Dabi’s face and, very pointedly, brought his hands up to warm them.

“Thanks. My fingers were getting cold.”

Dabi huffed and closed his fist, snuffing the fire out.

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

When the bird actually showed up in the storm, Dabi wasn’t sure what he was expecting. He certainly wasn’t expecting the hero to stick around, let alone break into a building. Especially not the way he had. In the split second between Hawks looking at the door and breaking in, he’d assumed the hero would use a feather to lock-pick it. It seemed like something the hero would do- sufficiently flashy enough and sounded like the sort of party trick the pigeon would learn. Instead, Hawks had pulled out one of his larger feathers, slid it into the bend of the padlock and twisted it, using the feather like a lever and cracking the lock off with brute strength.

He wouldn’t say it intrigued him, but it was damn close. There were still things about the bird he didn’t know and he was still half-convinced the hero was a spy, but shit like that definitely made him question that assumption.

The hero also annoyed the ever-loving hell out of him. More than Toga or Twice did, so he was hoping the bird would slip up and he’d have an excuse to roast the number two hero.

The storm outside had rolled in completely, throwing the warehouse into almost complete darkness. He and Hawks had stopped sniping at each other almost half an hour ago, the warehouse filled with the sound of screaming winds and hammering rain. He was pretty sure this was a new record for Hawks. If he gave a shit, he’d say something about being impressed. He didn’t give a shit and he was more interested in figuring out what the fuck was making that weird noise. It kept disturbing the quiet of the warehouse; it was almost a peeping squeak, like a chain swinging in the wind, but far more organic.

He lit up one of his palms, peering out into the darkness to see if he could spot the noise. All it did was make the shadows worse and throw the hero into an eerie light. The hero was sitting with his eyes closed, and as Dabi watched, about every third exhale the bird would shiver slightly and let out that peeping noise.

Was that… Hawks’ version of a snore?

Pretty ballsy of the hero to fall asleep next to him. Ballsy and stupid as hell. Slowly, he brought his hand closer to the bird, intent on setting at least one wing on fire.

Gold eyes blinked open, unfocused. Dabi froze, waiting for the bird to react.

Hawks did, but not in a way Dabi had been expecting.

“Fucking hell-” Dabi spat as Hawks leaned against him.

The bird was freezing.

It was like getting hit by a wet washcloth that had been sitting in a freezer, and within moments he could feel the water seeping through his clothes. The bird was freezing and soaking wet.

Then the bird shivered again, almost cuddling into Dabi’s arms. Hawks’ eyes had closed again and it left Dabi with an armful of bird and no good idea how to handle this or how to feel about it.

Logically, Hawks was probably seeking out the warmth, and hell, maybe he was like Spinner. Spinner hated the cold and was about as tolerant of it as Dabi was of the heat. Guess that might explain the sleepy-thing. Spinner mentioned something about torpor once. Dabi hadn’t been listening because Spinner was goddamn annoying.

He brought his legs up, shifting Hawks so that he was sitting sideways and half on Dabi’s lap. One of his hands came up and, against his better judgement, settled on the remaining plumage Hawks had left on his wings. They looked comically small like this, and he had been wondering about how they felt.

Right now, they felt wet and cold.

He tsked and slowly heated his hand up, combing his hand through the feathers.

Slowly, they went from feeling like wet paper to delightfully smooth and soft.

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

Normally, Hawks enjoyed waking up. He had a nice bed and decadent sheets. He usually woke with the sun, and despite having an early shift, that still usually left him with an hour he could spend just basking in the delight of a nice bed. If he left the shades open, he could do so in a puddle of sunlight.

His bed didn’t feel right this morning. Too lumpy and for a moment he tried to recall if he had brought anyone home the night before. There was a hand combing through his hair, so there was a very distinct possibility that he had left the warehouse the night before and-

His eyes flew open at the thought.

He didn’t remember leaving the warehouse and-

“Chill your tits, bird brain. Just me.” Dabi said, giving a light tug on a lock of Hawks’ hair. He ignored the pleasant way it sent shivers down his spine.

“What the fuck.”

“Yeah. That was my thought too. Lemme guess- you go into torpor?” Dabi asked.

“Do I even need to answer that right now?” Hawks’ shoulders slumped and he groaned.

Fantastic. He did exactly the thing he hadn’t wanted to do. Dabi let out a soft huff, almost a laugh but not quite. Hawks leaned back, feeling an arm against his back and keeping him from going too far. Dabi didn’t look peeved, and that raised his hackles. His eye narrowed as he tried to figure out what happened.

“What?”

“You did something.” Hawks stated, running through a checklist in his mind. He didn’t feel any burns. Nothing smelled like ash. The only real change from before he went into torpor was his hair and wings were fully dry and his clothes felt, well, not dry but not sopping wet anymore.

Oh.

OH.

Dabi noticed the grin on Hawks’ face, and started spluttering. “You were just-”

“You preened meeee.” Hawks sang, laughing at the affronted expression on Dabi’s face.

“I did not. You were dripping everywhere.”

“Uh-huh. And that included drying my wings… why?”

“....Because they were there. So shoot me if I wanted to know if you had greasy bird feathers.”

“Nope. That the same reason you decided to sweetly comb through my hair? I mean, really Dabi. If you wanted to play with my hair and wings that much, you could have at least gotten me dinner first.” Hawks teased, stifling a laugh as Dabi’s expression went from affronted to a grouchy embarrassment, before then actually lifting Hawks up and dumping him on the ground.

One- Damn. Hawks’ wasn’t heavy but he was mostly muscle so. Damn.

Two- He was just laughing harder now. To think that Dabi got shy about being caught playing with hair. He got to his feet, trying to brush the dust from his pants before giving it up as a lost cause.

“Well Hotstuff, thanks for the preen and playing heating pad. Guess we did get to know each other a little better tonight.”

Dabi flipped him off, sliding off the crates and making his way towards the door they came in through.

“Dabi?” Hawks called out. To his surprise, Dabi stopped, turning to look at him, dubiously waiting for the rest of his question. “For the next meeting, can I play with your hair?”

A moment later he was scrambling away from the fireball Dabi sent his way, despite knowing that it wasn’t a true attack and Dabi was only trying to get him to stop talking and hide his frazzled expression. Hawks watched Dabi make a beeline out the door, wheezing on his laughter as he gathered up his jacket and feathers.

Teasing Dabi was going to be so much fun.

[quokkacore]

son of wolves I [park chanyeol & byun baekhyun]

for @imsoba​, who asked for an angsty, fluffy enemies to lovers au. merry christmas from your secret santa! written for the @exolssecretsanta​ gift exhange.

summary:  your entire life, you've fought bravely to defend the walls of your home from the evil forest spirits of the spearwood trying to destroy it, alongside your family, friends, and your betrothed, baekhyun. until you're infected by the evil that resides in one of these spirits, and you run away from home, before it can spread to those around you. it's in your exile, wandering through the spearwood that you meet the wolf prince, a tall man of hardened eyes, few words, and a fiery temperament, raised by these spirits you've so grown to resent. it's here that you begin to question everything you've ever known, and wonder whether the evil was out here, in the forest, or inside the walls of a place you once called home.

pairings: hunter!baekhyun x reader, wolfprince!chanyeol x reader

genre: reverse princessmononoke!au, angst, fluff, slow burn, enemies to lovers, fantasy epic, slow burn, war au, wolf!au

warnings for this chapter: violence, animal attacks, mild descriptions of gore, mild body horror(?), can you tell i did my best to avoid calling them tentacles but there are only so many times i can use the words “coils” and “tendrils”, language, subtle emotional manipulation, reader feels VERY violent urges but they’re not too descriptive, hypothermia maybe?, intentional starvation for purposes of wilderness survival, chanyeol is kind of aggressive and intimidating, SO MUCH worldbuilding im srry, VERY precarious (and probably inaccurate) medical procedures performed by the reader, chanyeol is a slob but hes literally feral so??

song recs: ateez - hala hala // stevie nicks - rooms on fire // the weeknd - until i bleed out // joe hisaishi - departure (to the west) // howard shore & billy boyd - the sacrifice of faramir + to the edge of night // jorja smith - i am 

word count: 11.5k

a/n: first of all, i want to apologize a little bit to the person this was meant for. i meant to write this in two parts, but due to external factors, i’m going to have to split it into three. i hope you like it <3 second of all, i think i strayed a bit from the original source material, but i hope u guys can enjoy it regardless!! merry christmas to everyone, this is a gift to my followers as well. 

main masterlist  // story masterlist

chapter one: the bite

It was supposed to be a routine patrol just outside the perimeter of Ironbend. You hadn’t been expecting the beasts and the rider to ambush the two of you in such a way. One moment you and Baekhyun were eyeing the treeline, the next the wolves were running up on you, and your reindeers were taking off, attempting to lead them away from the village. 

“Get the others!” Baekhyun called to you, running between the trees, “I’ll lead them away from the wall!”

You nodded, directing the reindeer to veer away from the chase. You looked back, eyeing Baekhyun warily before he and his reindeer disappeared further into the trees, the sound of howling getting further and further away. 

But the sound of large paws against the forest floor did not. Knowing what was coming, you turned, aiming the arrow you’d nocked earlier in your bow, and met eyes with the beast that had been chasing you. 

Immediately, you knew that this beast was different. Its running pattern was erratic, as if it were tired but still euphoric, and you could see a wound on its neck, staining its fur a dark color. Not red, but almost black. You let the arrow fly at it, grazing its side, but it didn’t growl. Its sneer grew bigger, but no growl or snarl left its mouth. You faced frontwards again, watching as you came closer to the treeline, the wall of Ironbend coming into view. 

“THE WOLVES!” You shouted towards the men on the parapets, standing guard, “GET THE RIDERS, THE WOLVES ARE—!”

The bite came both expectedly and unexpectedly, the wolf pouncing on you and knocking you off of your reindeer. You tumbled onto the ground, pinned down by the white wolf, feral and mad. The way your head fell against the ground, plus the cold snow left you disoriented and dizzy. Expectedly and unexpectedly, because in a fight like this, you always expect there to be injuries, maybe even casualties. But deep down, on a subconscious level, you never really expect it to be you. 

Humans cling to hope, and sometimes end up having it pried from their cold, dead hands. No matter how hopeless things become, everyone always has a “maybe”, or a “what if”. And today, your “maybe” had turned sour. Out of nowhere, the white beast had locked its maw around your arm, and was thrashing you back and forth. You could feel an intense pain in your arm as its teeth broke your skin and attempted to rip off your limb. In your disorientation, you began to panic, your other arm trying to beat the animal off of you. You pulled at its fur, and threw punches, but what seemed to distract it enough was when you tugged at the wound, and managed to stick a few fingers inside, gripping whatever was in the wound.

The beast reared back as it let out a pained cry and then a ferocious snarl. You managed to scoot back at least a little bit, putting some distance between you and the wolf, and grabbed the bow, which you had dropped as you fell.

Blood was dripping down your marred arm, and in those seconds that seemed to pass like an eternity, you realized that the wolf’s saliva was, for some reason, a thick, semi translucent black color. 

I’m going to die, I’m going to die, I’m going to die. 

The scent of the beast’s rancid blood pierced your nose and the sound of other men shouting were the sensations you could feel around you, but not before you felt something inside of you, a deep, masculine voice echoing in your head.

Your hate infected me, the voice growled, now my hate will infect you, and you will die the same way I will: slowly, painfully and overtaken by rage.

Then the voice was ripped from your head, the same way the beast was ripped away from you as the other riders came to your rescue. You were picked up by one of them, thrown onto his reindeer behind him, and you gripped on tightly to his shirt with your uninjured arm as he turned his reindeer sharply to follow after the wolf, which was most likely returning to its pack, towards the sounds of shouting, howling, and gunshots.

“Are you okay?” He asked loudly, and you recognized the voice instantly. 

“I think so,” You answered Jongdae over the wind, “I’m hurt pretty badly, but nothing Yixing can’t fix.”

With some difficulty, huffing in pain as you did so, you reached for another arrow, nocking it into your bow in preparation to let it fly at another wolf. Jongdae’s reindeer followed the wolf in its tracks, and stopped when you ran through the trees and stumbled across the fight. The wolves were incessant in their snarling and attempts to trample the riders and their reindeers, but your eyes ignored them despite the chaos, falling to Baekhyun, who was now off of his reindeer, his sword pulled out, dodging the rider’s dagger. You could see the anger on Baekhyun’s face, his chest heaving.

You couldn’t see the rider’s face. You never could whenever they attacked. All you knew was that he was significantly taller than Baekhyun, and that his hands were tanned and littered with scars. His face was covered by a red mask, back covered by the pelt of a white wolf, neck accented by a necklace of sharp teeth from different animals. His simple clothes were black, hiding the rest of his body. The man moved aggressively, grunting as he played the offense, repeatedly trying to stab your lover. 

You sneered and let your arrow fly, catching him right in his right shoulder blade, piercing through his clothes. The man stopped, groaning in pain, back arching in pain. He was barely able to dodge Baekhyun, who had taken the hit as an opening for him to strike with his sword. The rider stepped back, letting out a loud whistle before getting onto the largest wolf. He whistled again, and the other wolves began to retreat, dodging the large metal bullets that rained down on them from the guns of the other soldiers.

When the silence settled, Baekhyun’s eyes settled on you, and then he was running towards you and Jongdae, eyes flashing in alarm as he saw the mangled flesh of your arm. 

“What happened to you?” He asked, voice loud and concerned. 

“The wolf that came after me knocked me off my reindeer,” You replied, suddenly feeling lightheaded as the adrenaline began to wear off, “Bit me pretty bad.”

He looked up at you, then to Jongdae.

“Get her to Yixing. Now.”

“The bite left her cursed.”

Murmurs broke out amongst the council of leaders, and you felt your eyes flutter shut at Yixing’s tone. Normally soft and gentle, now his tone was loud as he spoke to the ten members of the council, and you could tell he was angry.

“What do you mean cursed?” Your father, head of the council, asked. 

“The beast was infected with hatred,” The healer explained, “Hatred of that kind stems from war and festers in ways we mortals cannot comprehend. As he’s a demigod, one of the sons of Selyne, it will most likely turn him into a demon.” 

“One of our finest female warriors cursed by a descendant of that wretched she-wolf,” The head of war huffed, her eyes settled on the bandages of your injured arm. “How will the curse work on Y/N?”

“It will manifest as dark magic.” Yixing’s voice was low, and you felt Baekhyun’s hand tighten around your own uninjured one. “It will harm her and those around her when it does, and it will slowly spread through her body. It will kill her when it reaches her heart, or her brain—whichever it reaches first.”

You looked up. “But there has to be a cure,” You quipped, “I can’t die. I refuse to.”

“Y/N.” Yixing’s eyes were sympathetic. “There isn’t. I hate to say this to you, but this is a death sentence. By my estimates you have at best, a month and a half.”

“Can we at least slow it down, hyung?” Baekhyun asked, voice pained. Your eyes squeezed shut at the slight desperation in his voice. “Make it less painful?” “Make it less painful, maybe. Slow it down… I don’t think I can, Baek. I’m sorry.”

You watched him nod, jaw clenching, the hand atop yours clenching slightly. “There has to be something,” You insisted. “What about the story of the wounded warrior—”

“Y/N, that’s a myth.” Your father’s tone was both sympathetic at your insistence, but also angered by your refusal to accept the truth. “And besides, that myth originated centuries ago, before we took hold of our destinies and left The Spearwood to build Ironbend.”

“Do you really think the Pillars of the Forest—do you think Emyr, the proud fool that he is, would heal you as he did the wounded warrior, after three centuries of war against his kingdom? After all of the weapons we’ve created, all the soldiers of his we’ve gotten rid of, ”

“Emyr asked the warrior for a sacrifice, then. I could negotiate something with him, and—”

“And what? What if he asks to give up our weapons, to leave The Spearwood be after everything it’s done to us, so that we may be overrun? Y/N, you may be one of our finest warriors, and you may be my daughter, but I refuse to sacrifice one life over all of Ironbend.”

“Send me on my own, then, papa, but I can’t just—”

“Enough.” His tone was final, and you inhaled sharply as you attempted to control the shaking in your arms. 

“You will stay here. And I promise we will do our best to make the rest of your life something for you to look fondly upon when you pass.”

“It’s bullshit,” You growled, blinking back tears as you sat on the bed in the cabin you shared with Baekhyun. “There’s a perfectly good possibility and they won’t even let me try.”

“Y/N, my love,” Baekhyun whispered, coming to kneel between your legs so he could cup your face, “It’s a suicide mission. Going into The Spearwood, of all places, in the dead of winter, to find those four gods and ask them to heal one of their enemies, I… you have to admit, it doesn’t sound logical. If the cold doesn’t kill you, then Selyne and her children certainly will.”

His hand came to rub at your cheek, nose nuzzling against yours, and you knew he was right. 

In the beginning, when man was just another animal, the ancestors of Ironbend lived in The Spearwood, ruled over by the four Pillars of the Forest: Selyne, the wolf goddess, warden of the forest, Beval, the eagle god, keeper of the weather, Mirren, the bear goddess, guardian of families, and Emyr, the deer god, king of the gods, and ruler of the forest. Over time, humans became smarter: they realized they could build things with their hands that animals could not, and they grew proud enough to rally together and leave The Spearwood and the kingdom of the gods to build something permanent: Ironbend. 

The forest exodus triggered a seemingly endless war, which had been going on for over three hundred years. For three hundred years, your ancestors had attempted to destroy the gods’ uncivilized way of life, to end Emyr’s tyranny and extend Ironbend across all of the Spearwood, so that it would finally be gone.

If the gods were as ruthless as they said, Emyr would never heal you when you were a part of the threat to their archaic way of life.

“Baek, I…” You whispered shakily, eyes fluttering shut. “I can’t die like this. I-I can’t. This wasn’t what was supposed to happen. W-we were supposed to get married, and we were going to lead the council, and have children, and raise them to end the war, and then… Baekhyun, do you really want to give that up?”

“You think I want to give that up?” Baekhyun snapped, leaning away from you. “What, you think I want to watch you die a slow and painful death, and not do a thing about it? I—” 

He caught himself when he saw the tears streaming down your face, and your injured arm shaking. You couldn’t explain the despair, the anger that washed over you, but you could see the injured skin warping and growing beneath the bandages. You felt the bandages tighten against your skin as it grew, and you grasped your injured forearm with your other hand to hold it back, because all you felt was the urge to hurt, and you wouldn’t live with yourself if you ended up hurting Baekhyun, the man who made you laugh and feel emotions you had never felt before, who had persisted to push himself up the class ladder because he wanted to be with you and help those around him. 

Not him, not your Baek.

He stepped back cautiously as you took deep breaths, trying to ignore the sudden black liquid oozing slowly out from underneath the bandages, staining them dark and dirty. You began to count, and counted for an eternity, only stopping at 136 before you felt the urge dissipate, burrowing back beneath the skin it had attempted to break free from.

“Are you alright?” Baekhyun’s tone was cautious, and you opened your eyes to find that he was eyeing your arm warily. You nodded. “Better. I just… need to remain calm.” 

He groaned and ran a hand over his face before pushing his hair back. “Shit, my love, I… I would march into that forest right now if I knew for sure that it would save you. But the truth of the matter is I don’t know, and neither do you, and chances are that it wouldn’t. No one has seen Emyr in a hundred years, and even if he showed himself to you, he would likely have you executed for treason.” 

When you didn’t respond, his hands fell to yours, bringing them to his chest. You spread out your fingers, feeling the fabric of his cream drawstring shirt and the firm muscle beneath it.

Your eyes fell on the pendant he’d always worn: a small opal on a gold chain, which had been his father’s. Noticing your gaze, he reached behind his neck, unclasping it and placing it around your neck.

 His eyes were desperate, voice breathless and slightly panicky. “Stay here, with me, Y/N. Where it’s warm, and y-you’re surrounded by people who love you, and we can be happy before you die. We can rush the wedding, I don’t care if it’s a big affair or not. If it means you spend the rest of your life with me, it would make me the happiest man in the world, and I promise I would make you feel loved until the end of your days.”

Your forehead fell against his, and his eyes fluttered shut. “I’m already on my knees, my love. Please don’t make me beg any further.”

“Baek…” You whispered, feeling his steady heartbeat beneath your fingertips. “Hold me, please.”

He nodded, quickly making his way onto the bed, ready to console you, not despite what just happened but in spite of it—he knew you were just as frightened as he was, because he knew you like the back of his hand. The argument was forgotten, and suddenly you were resting on Baekhyun’s chest, listening to him hum a lullaby to you. You let your tears stain his shirt, and he pressed kisses to your hair between beats, until the soft melody lulled you to sleep, dreaming of nothing, basking in the warmth of the arms of your betrothed.

When you awoke, you found that Baekhyun had blown out the candle on your nightstand, because your room was now dark. He was asleep beneath you,  snoring softly. He looked so relaxed now that he was resting. During most of the day, his face was pulled into a grim frown, as the council met to discuss serious strategies and the needs of the people of Ironbend.

He hadn't always been that way. Even now, occasionally bits and pieces of who he was when you had first fallen in love—the brightest, funniest boy you had ever met—shone through. He could still make you and your friends laugh until your stomachs ached, but now that you were all adults, and it was time to take the war from your parents' hands, all of you had grown more serious, and pushed aside the time to simply enjoy life and each other.

You were 11 when you met Baekhyun, himself 13. You met at the training academy in the town, meant to teach children the basics: how to read and do math, the history of Ironbend and the war, . He had been a year older, and wont to make everyone laugh. 

He helped you with your sword fighting skills, and in return, you helped him with his archery skills. A steady friendship bloomed, despite the fact that you were the head councilman's daughter, and Baekhyun was the child of a woman who ran away when he was a baby to be with her lover, and the town drunk. Baekhyun was crafty, however, and as he grew into a young man, he used his wits, natural charm and skill to climb the ranks. 

It also helped that he invented the first prototype for the shoulder guns.

He had always been good at making things, and his prototype for the shoulder guns, small cannons loaded with large iron bullets made from the metal extracted in the mines, were what began to give the town an upper hand against the ambushes the creatures of the forests made. And for him, it was what landed him in junior council, along with all of his other abilities.

You thought of Baekhyun, and the look in his eyes when the curse kicked in. The quake in his voice when he begged you to stay. How much it was hurting him to see you like this, to know you would die. Your hand drifted to the necklace he had placed around your neck, a silent promise.  

What, you think I want to watch you die a slow and painful death, and not do a thing about it?

Except there was a thing to do about it. 

The wounded warrior was a story your grandmother had told you as a child—everyone knew the story as a testament to Emyr’s cruelty. The wounded warrior had gone to the deer god as he began to die from an infected wound, and begged him for a cure, so he could live to see his children and his wife. And while Emyr took pity on him, he asked him for something in return: fifteen years of loyalty, of servitude. 

True to his word, the warrior did as he asked—he tended to the god’s every whim and desire, for fifteen long, grueling years. Fifteen years that, for an immortal, passed by in the blink of an eye, but for a human, were, well… fifteen years. When the warrior finally returned home, he found his wife had died believing he had died after disappearing for so long, and his children, now grown, were resentful of having grown up without a father. The warrior lived a full life, to a ripe old age, but it was a lonely one, for he had no wife or children to take care of him or keep him company.

And finally, you thought of the rider, of the odd red and gold mask that haunted both your dreams and Baekhyun’s. There were no towns around for miles, not unless you passed through the mountains, in the opposite direction of the Spearwood, and no child in Ironbend had gone missing and remained unfound for over eighty years. The man looked too young and had moved with too much energy to be 90 years old. 

Your puffy eyes fluttered shut, listening to Baekhyun’s steady heartbeat.

...And not do a thing about it?

Except there was something to do about it. And while your chances were slim, there was always a chance. 

Slowly, you lifted yourself off of Baekhyun’s chest and sat next to him on the bed, admiring his features as he slept. The bridge of his round nose, the moles on his face, the apples of his cheeks. 

Oh, how you would miss him.

Baekhyun was a pretty heavy sleeper, but you still took great care to dress quietly, pulling on a warm shirt, thick pants and a cloak, along with a pair of winter gloves. You grimaced pulling them on, as you used your injured hand, the skin swollen and irritated, pain prickling every time you flexed your fingers or your wrist. Your heart never ceased pounding.

Next, you grabbed a satchel and went to the kitchen, packing a loaf of bread, some jam, a few strips of dried meats, and some fruit. You could find water in the streams, you figured. 

Quietly, you set your bow and quiver next to the satchel on the floor, and hurried to find some ink and a scroll of paper. As you looked, a glint of silver out of the corner of your eye caught your attention. 

It was one of Baekhyun’s many swords, still partially sheathed, propped up against the wall. Smaller, a bit more lightweight. He didn’t use it much precisely because of that—he preferred something heavier, that could bring down more force. You thought of the rider and his knife, and how you would most likely end up injured if he came close to you; a bow and arrow is only so good up close. You swallowed a lump in your throat, quietly picking it up. Glancing at the bedroom doorway, where you could still see Baekhyun asleep on the bed, dark hair tousled, you took a deep breath, before tying the sheath’s leather band around your waist, securing it tightly. 

Blinking back tears, hands shaking, you wrote down a brief letter.

Baekhyun, my love, 

Please forgive me for what I'm about to do. I can't sit here and die when I know there's at least a chance. Life will find a way. Love will find a way. I will find a way. I will do everything possible to find my way back to you, safe and sound. Don't look for me. It's dangerous enough as it is in The Spearwood, and now with the chance that I might hurt you as well… If these truly are my final days, I want you to remember as I am, and not as what the curse will turn me into.

You shine brighter than the stars, Baek. Please don't stop doing so, ever. That shine will lead me back to you even on the darkest of nights.

Forever yours,

Y/N

Tiptoeing, you set down the weathered paper on your side of the bed, before looking at Baekhyun one last time. Carefully, you leaned over him, and pressed a kiss to his forehead.

“No matter what happens, we’ll see each other again,” You whispered against his skin, “And after you're done yelling at me, I’ll kiss you the way you deserve.”

Escaping was an easy feat when you knew the standard night patrol route—even easier when you were the one who wrote them. Carrying all of your things, you made your way to the stables, the moon your only source of light. 

There was no one in the stables, which made saddling up Ivan, your reindeer, easier. In the silence as you worked hastily, you began to doubt your actions. Go back, a voice whispered somewhere in the back of your mind, stay with your family, stay with Baekhyun. Hold him tight and don't let go until you die. Kiss him like it will free you from the curse, even though it won't. Be happy. Make them happy.

Your eyes drifted down to the bandage, which you had changed right before leaving, feeling the slight throb of your skin. You were reminded of the things that hung in the balance—or rather, imbalance. The unfairness of it all. Yes, life was unfair, but here you had a chance to take at least something back.

And so you didn’t go back. You continued to saddle up the reindeer, slinging the bag over its side, and finally, you left the stable, and quietly made your way towards one of the side gates. You knew the main gate was the one most heavily guarded, and that the side gates were generally more lax. Given the position of the moon in the sky, which was slowly being covered by clouds, you could also tell that the guards’ shift would be ending, and there would be a brief period where the gate was left unattended.

With baited breath, you waited, holding the large creature’s harness in your uninjured hand, watching from behind a corner as the guards stood at their posts. For about ten minutes, your heart pounding in your chest the entire time, you watched the parapets, and then turned to look at the alleyway you were hiding in. You did your best to hold your breath when you peeked around the corner, knowing that the condensation could give you away if they happened to look your way.

Finally, the two guards walked away, mumbling to each other as they did, and you took this as your cue. You led your reindeer to the gate, and pulled off the thick iron plank that locked the gate, careful to not make a noise. 

When it was open, you hopped onto the reindeer, nudged him slightly, and he slowly walked into the treeline. You looked down at the snow, and hoped that the dark would hide the trail until it started to snow. 

You rode on Ivan’s back for hours, until the darkness started to slowly fade. Somewhere during that time, it had started to snow. Now, the forest floor was covered with a fresh sheet of snow, that looked a shade of light blue rather than white, now during the twilight. During that span of time, as you rode on deeper and deeper into the forest, you realized the sheer magnitude of it. The stories the village elders had told you and the other children to keep away from the woods, and stay inside of the walls: that the servants of the gods were large creatures with sharp white teeth and long nasty claws, that the Spearwood was alive, and knew that humans had abandoned it, so it tricked travelers into going in circles—no matter how close the treeline seemed to be, you could walk for hours and never cross it because of the Spearwood’s magic, playing tricks on your eyes until you succumbed to the cold, or dehydration, or hunger.

Paranoia was trickling its way into your head, albeit slowly. As you stopped to let Ivan rest, you pulled out a piece of cured meat, chewing it until your jaw was sore as Ivan dug his hooves into the snow, only stopping when he found a patch of grass to chew on. You looked up at the sky, and then in all four directions. You knew that the mountains opposite the Spearwood were towards the north, and by going north you would eventually leave the forest and find Ironbend, but currently, with the snowfall and the clouds, you had no idea which way that was.

But you didn’t plan on returning until you knew for sure the gods would listen to you. 

Apparently, the gods weren’t very keen on listening.

Onward you went for days, panic slowly kicking in as you realized that you had no way of actually knowing in which direction you were headed. You seemed to be riding Ivan in circles, and the silence of the forest, save for the sound of Ivan’s hooves against the snow, was beginning to drive you to madness. Every few hours you switched between walking on him and riding, taking quick breaks every time you decided to switch. The isolation was quickly becoming too much to handle. 

You thought of your friends, of your family, of Baekhyun, of everything said that night before you left. You didn’t want to imagine what was happening back home, but you couldn’t help it, what with walking around all day and not having anything to do. 

You knew that your parents must have been heartbroken, and that your friends would likely be losing their minds. But you knew that you were doing what felt right.

You had packed enough small snacks to last you about three weeks if you rationed correctly, but you felt as though you were constantly running on empty, never fully satisfied. You drank water every time you came past streams or snowmelts, because you didn’t know when you would find one again, cupping your hands together and drinking until you were practically full, fingers pained from the freezing water and your throat sore. 

The falling snow would stop periodically, and then start up again. Not very heavy, but not precisely light either. Your face became perpetually cold, your fingers cramped harshly to the point when you would wince in pain when you needed to change your bandages.

The falling snow would stop periodically, and then start up again. Not very heavy, but not precisely light either. Your face became perpetually cold, your fingers cramped harshly to the point when you would wince in pain when you needed to change your bandages.

The wound was getting worse. The curse was beginning to spread. Initially, while it had started at the bite mark in the middle of your forearm, it was now making its way to your elbow and wrist. The tissue seemed to be turning necrotic as well, secreting a sort of mucous substance that was black. The smell was bearable when you had the bandage on, but every time you took them off to change them your eyes watered and you had to hold back the urge to gag. 

When night fell, you slept on Ivan, who was pretty comfortable in the cold, laying down in it and laying against the trees. You had never realized just how dark the world could be without lanterns to light your way, and your small oil lantern barely illuminated anything. It did well warming your hands though, which would cramp when they felt the heat.

Worst of all, the deeper you went into the forest, the more it felt like you were being watched. Which was odd, because you saw no animals. None at all, which only served to put you on edge more. 

The first two days it seemed fine, but after that, it changed. Now that you knew that you were well and truly on your own, the crisp winter air felt tense. Even Ivan became a bit skittish, and you felt bad for bringing your innocent reindeer into such a stressful situation. You were on edge all hours of the day now, eyes darting from side to side always, ears straining as you listened for something, anything. It was as if the whole forest was holding its breath, waiting to release its wrath on you. 

Three more days passed before it finally did.

They came when you came across a lake in the middle of the afternoon, seemingly unfrozen. You got off of Ivan, an odd sensation pooling in your gut as you approached the crystal clear body of water. Oddly enough, you felt at peace, and for the first time in days, the striking silence was comforting. Now, instead of feeling like the forest was holding its breath anxiously, almost angrily, it felt as if it was holding its breath in anticipation.

The water was clear as day and seemed to span for miles. Trees grew out of the depths, and in the center, a small island emerged out of it. When you focused on the island, you felt your eyes widen—there was no snow on it at all. Quite the contrary, actually. It was a lush, beautiful green, with a blossoming tree smack in the middle of it. For such a small island, you were certain it was the brightest green you’d ever seen.

Your dry throat almost burned in anticipation as you kneeled. At this point, it had been about a day since you had last come across water, and your head was starting to ache. When you dipped your fingers in, you gasped. The water wasn’t freezing like it had been in the other streams you came across, nor was it cold. It was tepid, bordering on lukewarm. It felt kind, it felt welcoming, and while the setting lured you into a sense of security, you couldn’t help but feel as if this was wrong, because it was a lake, in a dangerous forest. It couldn’t welcome you, not at all.

That snapped you out of your trance, and you turned just in time to face the rider as he tackled you to the ground, pinning you down against the snow, the sudden cold causing your back to arch. You were vaguely aware of Ivan being startled, and the sound of growling somewhere off to your left, but you were more preoccupied by the red mask hovering above you, and the dagger about to come down on your face. You grabbed the man by his wrists, arms straining with effort as your injured arm flared in pain, wrenching a guttural cry from your lips.  

You pulled him forward, causing him to lose his balance and topple next to you. You took your chance, straddling his chest and knocking the dagger out of his hand with a kick. You pinned his arms down, before pulling off the mask swiftly, sneering at him.

But you stopped when you saw his face.

Somehow, you found yourself entranced; for his features were contorted into rage and pain but you had never seen such a beautiful person. His eyes were large and round, a deep dark brown. His plump lips were curled into a harsh sneer. He had painted three long triangles across his face with what appeared to be dried blood: one below each of his eyes, the third one in the middle of his forehead, ending beneath his eyebrows. 

His large ears, hidden beneath black, shaggy hair, gave him an elfish look. He was wearing large, white, circular earrings.. Beneath you, you could tell he was pure muscle, large and beefy to the point where it left you reeling because, oh, gods, how can one man be so big?

He took the chance and flipped you over, a groan leaving your throat when your head hit the ground hard, but saw an opening quickly and lifted your leg to knee him in the groin. He toppled over, groaning in pain, and for one final time, you found the roles reversed. On top of him, you unsheathed Baekhyun’s sword, ready to subdue the rider. You pressed the blade to his neck, poising yourself to speak—

When one of the wolves grabbed you by the collar of your cloak, dragging you away from him. The wolf stilled even though you continued to struggle against it. You could feel your injured arm bleeding beneath the bandages, and the subtle tremors riding throughout it as you watched the rider stumble to his knees, picking up the sword, and crawling towards you.

He did the same you had done and pressed the blade to your neck, breath heaving from his chest, air puffing into the cold. If he had been angry before, now he was furious, and while a small side of you felt the urge to cower back in fear, you could feel one side of your body heating up slowly, a sensation you hadn’t felt in over a week slowly making its way back into your system.

“Why are you here?” His deep, menacing tone didn’t sound like much of a question, but rather an accusation. 

“Take me to Emyr,” You demanded immediately. “I need to speak with him.”

He blinked. For a second, he seemed taken aback, almost offended. But then his features hardened again, and he pressed the iron even further into your neck. It didn’t break the skin but you felt a sting against your windpipe, grimacing at the sensation. Your fingers curled into fists, your entire body trembling now as you felt something moving underneath the bandages, beneath your very flesh.

“Don’t tell me what to do, human,” He spat, “This is not your forest.”

The wolf behind you growled, and you felt it one last time: the urge to hurt, the urge to kill, a feeling of absolute hatred. This time, as opposed to the first time, you didn’t hold it in, and you didn’t count. When the black goo oozed from your skin, turning the air rancid, you didn’t gag, but rather embraced it. 

And a split second later, just as the man had lowered his gaze to where the smell was coming from, his eyes widening at the bandages stained black, it was too late. 

This being only the second time you had felt it, and this being the first time you didn’t restrain it, you weren’t fully sure what you were expecting. But you most certainly weren’t expecting your arm to bend into a shape it wasn’t supposed to bend into, in a direction it wasn’t supposed to go. And you definitely weren’t expecting black, slimy tendrils to break your skin, pushing the man away with so much force that his back pushed itself into a tree. He yelled out in pain, clutching at his right shoulder. 

The violent coils did the same to the wolf, pushing it off to the side. And while momentarily, you rejoiced in the lack of restraint, it was taken over almost immediately by panic, because you just didn’t know how to make it stop. What frightened you even more was that a part of you didn’t want it to stop. As the tendrils flailed angrily, attempting to reach the man and the wolves as well, you felt the need to let it consume you, and then let it consume the man, and the wolves, and eventually, the entire forest. You wanted them dead, gone, burned to the ground, because none of this would have happened had it been for this disgusting fucking forest.

But you knew that wasn’t the way.

Fury coursed through your veins, and your eyesight blurred, quite literally blinded by anger. Clinging to your logic, you pushed yourself onto your front, pressing all of your weight onto the monstrosity that had once been your arm. The adrenaline had stopped you from feeling it before, but now, as you pressed your mangled arm into the ground, you could feel how broken it was, how the skin ached where the coils had broken through. You cried out in pain, in anger, in sheer terror, praying for it to stop. But it simply wouldn’t, and you wondered if you had come all this way to die because you had pushed the curse too much. 

Your mind went to Baekhyun as you screamed, of the way his eyes sparkled when the sunlight filtered in through the window in the mornings, when you woke up next to him. You started to believe you would never see them again. How you had broken his trust for an irrational decision you had made because of your stubbornness and pride, and how now you would never see the man you loved again, all because you believed you were right when you were so very, very wrong. 

But somehow, the thought of him grounded you, and you felt the curse weaken. Still, it was something, and you squeezed your eyes shut, sobbing as you conjured up mental images of Baekhyun making you laugh, and recalled the sensation of his lips softly kissing yours. You remembered the time he had first held your hand, at fourteen, right after an intense sparring session, and how at fifteen, you had been the one to kiss him, even though he was the one who asked you, because he was too nervous and unsure of what to do. 

The black appendages finally retreated back beneath your skin when you remembered how he had held you that last night before you fell asleep, and only when your free hand found its way to the pendant around your neck did your bones snap forcefully back into place. You were left hyperventilating, struggling to catch your breath as you buried your face into the snow, attempting to hide your weakness from your enemies. You heard footsteps crunching in the snow, coming closer and closer, but they froze when another rush of footsteps came from another direction. 

Even though you weren’t looking, you knew it was a large party. There was simply too much thumping for it to be one person… or whatever they were. All sound stopped, save for your panting, before you heard scrambling, and you lifted your gaze in time to watch the man drop to one knee, bowing his head in submission. 

“My king,” He murmured, and you turned your head ever so slightly to the direction in which he was leaning. Your heart was pounding in your chest, blood roaring in your ears, and your teary eyes widened as you saw what you saw.

The giant deer walked poised mere feet away from you commanded a presence over all of the other animals that had just arrived with him. You saw other deer, more reindeer, foxes, wolves, bears. In the trees all kinds of birds were perched, an eagle resting on a branch almost directly above the large creature. 

Its antlers were large, larger than you had ever seen, branching out in all directions, almost forming a sort of crown. When it took a step forward, you watched in awe as flowers and grass began to bloom where he stepped, peeking out from beneath the snow. 

Emyr, you realized with a chill, the deer god. King of the gods, ruler of the forest.

So, the god rumbled, without truly speaking, voice echoing through your mind, what is the meaning of all of this? 

Come to find out, Emyr wasn’t the only spirit you were in the presence of. Your weapons were confiscated. As the wolf dragged your body—weak from what just happened—through the snow, you realized that the four Pillars of the Forest were all around you. Emyr was leading the animals ahead of you, but the man walked next to the wolf as it dragged you, and next to him, walked the other wolves. The biggest one eyed you with burning distrust, and wisdom beyond your years, and when you locked eyes with her, something within you knew that this was Selyne, warden of the forest and goddess of the hunt. She growled softly, and the man’s eyes snapped to her, ready to listen to what she had to say. 

Disgusting, she growled, the nerve you have, little girl, to march all the way into this forest and injure my sons even more than you already have. I should rip your throat out right now—

Selyne. A giant brown bear lumbered up next to her, speaking gently but cautiously, she came here for a reason. The least we could do is listen before you do so, sister.

Your eyes widened, realizing this was Mirren, the bear goddess of family, matron of the forest. The wolf goddess let out something akin to a scoff, and before they could continue their discussion, Emyr stopped at a clearing not far off from the lake, where it seemed winter hadn’t touched down, grass green beneath you. The sun shone through a hole in the clouds, warming up the atmosphere, and your body shivered as you felt its heat pour over your body. In the center of the clearing, a large rock had three ledges, and a hole in the very bottom.

The Pillars of the Forest settled into the great stone. Mirren walked into the hole, Selyne hopped onto the lowest ledge, Emyr onto the middle ledge. Moments later, the eagle you had seen resting above Emyr’s head earlier flew onto the highest ledge, and you realized that this was Beval, the eagle god.

The animals around you chittered anxiously. The wolf set you down onto your knees, but did not step back. The rider stepped forward, however. He had picked up his dagger after you had been dragged away by the brown wolf, and now he held it forward to your neck once more. A silent threat.

Silence, Emyr said, and the animals obeyed. You could hear a pin drop. 

State your name, child, the bear ordered, and you cleared your throat. 

“Y/N,” You answered, voice raspy and gruff after not having spoken, “Y/N L/N.”

State your purpose in this forest. Selyne’s anger was barely contained, you could tell, but you refused to back down. Taking a deep breath, you steeled yourself, and flexed your free arm.

“I was cursed, great goddess,” You stated, “Cursed by one of your sons. I came to plead forgiveness, and ask to be healed.”

Forgiveness? Beval huffed, Healed? After everything your people have done to this forest? Burning your fires, taking our resources, and repeatedly trying to destroy our homes?

You looked down, before meeting the eagle’s strict gaze again. “I understand, my lord, that your kind and mine have been at war for hundreds of years. But I don’t wish to bring any of you harm, not right now into—”

Not now that you need us, Emyr deduced, and you bit your lip. 

“I don’t intend to use you for your powers, great king. I offer my service in return.”

If you don’t wish to harm us, why attack my son? Your eyes turned to the wolf goddess, trying to think of how to answer without angering her further. How do we know you’re even telling the truth?

“I was surprised,” You said after a few seconds of mulling over your answer, “His ambush caused me to panic, and defend myself. I understand why he’d do so if he didn’t know my intentions.”

“Even knowing your intentions, I’d have done it,” The man grumbled, “You’re a fool.”

You glared at him, but didn’t retaliate. You didn’t need to make yourself look worse.

What is this curse you speak of, Y/N? Mirren asked, And what do you mean it was one of Selyne’s sons who cursed you?

You told the story, choosing your words cautiously. Describing the attack, you watched as Selyne’s ears picked up, and she sat up straight, lifting her head. You described the tendrils, the black substance that secreted from your arm, the anger and hatred you felt when it controlled you. And you described remembering the story of the wounded warrior, how the curiosity drove you to leave home and wander for days until you came here.

Ah, the warrior, Emyr murmured warmly, Doyoung. What a fine young man. Of course, the circumstances were different then. His kind—your kind—was still a part of this kingdom, and he came to me looking to cheat death when he was wounded while he defended the Spearwood. 

“I understand, great king,” You answered, “But my plea still stands. Free me from this curse, and I will work as the warrior did.”

Resilient, determined. Mirren sounded amused. She’s not going to give up, brother. 

And what after you finish your years of service? Obviously, Selyne couldn’t be swayed, You return to your little Irontown, and continue to plot our downfall?

“Ironbend, and no, great goddess. You see, I am the leader’s only daughter. Next in line to inherit his place.”

You had your trump card, you realized, as the four gods took notice, all four of them exchanging glances, leaning forward. You could work around the original terms.

"My kind are tired of this war," You explained, growing more and more confident, "As I expect your kind are as well. It's all I've known, all my father's known, and all his father has known. If I can offer my people a stop to this war, I am willing to negotiate a truce of some sort.”

A truce… Beval mused, What are your conditions?

“I can’t stay as long as the warrior did. They’ll move on from me and pass my claim to the next person in line. Let me go back as soon as I am healed, and when I take my father’s place, I shall return, and we can negotiate a truce.”

Let you go, as soon as you are healed… The deer god repeated. I see what you are trying to do, girl. Don’t think you can fool a god. 

“No, great king, I don’t intend to—”

I am thousands of years old. You think you can fool me? My terms for healing are simple, service and loyalty to my kingdom. You are neither loyal to my kingdom, nor are you willing to serve me. 

You forced yourself to take deep breaths, attempting to remain calm. This had come so close to the way you had wanted it to.

You are too proud and too stubborn. You think that your status will help you now. No. I will heal not heal you… but you will remain in this forest. Learn a thing or two, and maybe then we can negotiate this again. 

"Stay in the forest? I… For how long? My healer told me I only had a month and a half to live. I—"

For as long as is needed. You do this on my terms, or not at all. If you wish to go, then do so at any moment. The war will continue and you will still be cursed. If you wish to be healed, you will stay until you earn your freedom from this curse. 

You swallowed a growing lump in your throat, meeting the god's eyes. "Very well, great king. I accept your terms."

Very well... But you will not serve me. You will serve Selyne and her sons. 

Your eyes widened, darting nervous to the white wolf. She looked displeased with the situation, but said nothing. 

He's doing this on purpose, you thought, he knows Selyne wants me dead so he's making it harder for me. 

Selyne spoke again. Serve me? Well, then. My sons will work with you. Her eyes looked at the wolf behind you and at the rider. As punishment.

The wolf behind you huffed, and the rider tensed. "Mother, I—"

Quiet, both of you. My orders were simple.  You were forbidden from leaving the inner circle of the forest without me, and forbidden from instigating the humans. You did both. You could have been killed, or injured as your brother is now. You deliberately disobeyed me and now because of your foolish actions, we have a human who has seen the inner circle, and knows where the most important part of the forest is. 

As insolent as she is, she has come for a purpose. She is to fulfill that purpose, and you will help her do so. Am I understood?

"Mother, she's—"

Chanyeol, the she-wolf growled, don't test me. 

Chanyeol. So that was his name. 

The princes of the forest, working with a human, Mirren said, this should be interesting.

You could tell that Chanyeol was not pleased with the situation. The other wolves of his pack as well. After the meeting was adjourned, and the other animals dispersed, Chanyeol pushed you to your knees, and he growled at you, "Follow me." 

You obeyed wordlessly, taking note of his temperament. You walked aimlessly, for about twenty minutes. Surprisingly, Ivan, ever faithful, walked behind you, but you could sense some apprehension from him. Your eyes looked at Chanyeol's back, covered by the pelt of a white wolf, serving the same purpose as your cloak. 

Your cloak, which had been dragged through the snow, and was now wet. You did your best to hide your shivering. You could deal with that later.

To distract yourself, you let your eyes stray to the wolves. There were three of them, all smaller than Selyne but bigger than the average wolf. One, the brown wolf who had dragged you along. The second one, black, the third one a classic timber gray. 

You realized that the white wolf who had bitten you wasn't there. 

"Where's the white one?" You asked, voice quiet and curious. Chanyeol and the three wolves stopped walking, and turned to look at you. 

"Resting," Chanyeol answered. You nodded, not answering, and they continued on, trailing behind them. You walked a little longer until you stumbled across a cave. Their den, you realized. You stopped, and so did Ivan behind you. You watched as Chanyeol and the other three wolves made their way into the den, but you couldn’t find the courage to enter. You almost felt as if you were trespassing. 

You turned to your reindeer, skittish and eyeing the den, and walked towards him, caressing the side of his head. “You’ll be okay, big guy,” You murmured, “I’m not letting anything happen to you.”

Your stomach rumbled, and you sighed softly, pulling out your loaf of bread and the little remaining jam there was.

It was a miracle you’d managed to make the bread last this long, you mused to yourself as you spread the jam onto it. 

“What is that?” 

You jumped, letting out a soft squeak. You turned to Chanyeol, who had creeped up on you while his brothers remained in the den. His face remained stoic and bordering on annoyed. “Stop fucking doing that,” You snapped, “It’s bread and jam.”

He tilted his head, and you blinked. “Do… I’m guessing that isn’t a thing here?”

Chanyeol shook his head, his earrings swinging as he did so. You pursed your lips, before breaking the slice in half. Slowly, you offered him one. Eyeing it with curiosity, and slight disdain, he grabbed his half. Then his dark gaze met yours. “You first.”

You furrowed your eyebrows. “What?”

“This. You eat it first.” 

Raising your eyebrows, you wondered if he thought it was poisoned. As if you would be stupid enough to poison the son of the goddess who hated you most, in front of all of his brothers. “Fine,” You huffed, and took a bite, eyes widening and shaking your head at him challengingly. He narrowed his eyes at you, studying your appearance. 

His eyes stopped for a moment when they landed on Baekhyun’s necklace. But a second later, he looked back up at you, and took a bite once he saw you swallow, before making his way back to the den. Shivering, you finished your jam before taking over your wet cloak. It was even heavier now that it was wet. 

Here, in what the gods called the inner circle of The Spearwood, it wasn’t as cold, so you hung your cloak over a low hanging branch and hoped it would dry soon. Now, you were unsure what to do. Chanyeol had gone to lay down with the wolves, presumably, and you stood awkwardly as you were left unsure what to do. You were tired after everything that had happened in the past hour or so—the attack, your meeting with the gods, now this—but you weren’t sure where you would sleep for now. You weren’t sure if you were welcomed in the den.

So you made your way over to a rock opposite the den, sitting on it and resting your head against a tree stump growing right next to it. You thought over everything that had happened, but mainly, how you had handled the curse. Your hand gripped the opal with your free hand, staring off into the trees. 

The curse is fueled by hatred, you surmised, love is what will ground you. 

You wondered what Baekhyun was doing right now, as you watched the forest grow darker slowly. For a horrifying thought, you wondered what could have happened to him that night if you hadn’t managed to control yourself. You quickly pushed it away, not willing to get caught up on what could have happened, but didn’t Your eyes grew heavier and heavier as you thought of home, and beneath your eyelids, the images danced so vividly…

“Wake up.” The voice was gruff, calloused hands shaking you haphazardly. You furrowed your eyebrows, humming softly as your eyes adjusted to the darkness. It had grown colder, and you found that you actually had managed to fall asleep. The sky had finally cleared up, the moon high up in the sky. 

“What’s going on?” You asked, rubbing your eyes, trying to ignore the pain in your lower back. You looked up at Chanyeol, who had pulled his mask back onto his face.

“We’re patrolling the border between the inner circle and the outer one. You’re coming with us.” His voice was muffled from behind the mask.

“Oh,” You answered, “Okay.”

You stood, arching your back to stretch out the kinks. The other wolves were standing behind Chanyeol, and he pointed at each one.

“Junmyeon,” He said at the brown wolf.

“Kyungsoo.” The black wolf.

“Jongin.” The gray wolf. 

You nodded at all of them awkwardly, unsure how to address them. They eyed you with disdain, Kyungsoo pulling off the first ever eye roll you’d seen on a wolf. Junmyeon huffed at him, and Chanyeol shook his head. “Whatever,” He grumbled, “Let’s go.”

The night was rough. Ivan was asleep, so all you had were your feet to trudge through the snow. For hours, you walked through trees and over rocks. 

You were trailing through the snow with Chanyeol, having pulled on your cloak again. He was riding Junmyeon, who was walking slower than the others. The brown wolf seemed to be the most gentle of the three—four? You had yet to see the fourth—wolves, watching you with more indifference than dislike. 

Kyungsoo and Jongin trailed ahead, seemingly content ignoring you.

“You do this every night?” You asked Chanyeol. He nodded. “Our mother is the warden of the Spearwood. It’s only natural that we take after her.”

You nodded in understanding. “Will I be coming with you every—”

“Yes. Stop talking.” His head turned to face forward again, back on alert.

The night was incredibly awkward and tense. You were unsure if the tension was due to the alertness of the wolves on patrol or because of you. 

A few minutes later, you spoke again. “Will I meet your other brother?”

Everyone stopped, slowly turning to face you. The three wolves’ eyes were narrowed at you, and you immediately knew that you had said the wrong thing. Kyungsoo took a step forward with a growl, but Junmyeon growled back at him, and he backed off. 

“He’s injured.” Chanyeol’s voice was clipped. “He was injured by people like you with those—those things.”

“Why can’t Emyr heal him?” You asked, tilting your head. “If he’s powerful enough to heal me, then why can’t he heal—”

“Because we don’t understand his injury,” Chanyeol snapped, getting off of Junmyeon. He began to approach you. “We understand the curse, but not the injury. If we can’t heal the injury, we can’t stop the curse. We understand your injury and your curse. It’s different. You wouldn’t understand. Now—”

“But I want to understand—”

“You could never understand,” Chanyeol snarled, making his way into your personal space, “Your kind never do, the vermin that you are.”

You glared up at the unwavering red mask, even harsher in the moonlight, inches away from your face. “Now stop talking,” Chanyeol demanded, poking you square in your upper chest, “And don’t talk about my brothers as if you deserve to.”

He made his way back up onto Junmyeon, and the foursome continued, not even watching to see if you walked to keep up.

Junmyeon stopped walking at your speed for the rest of the long, cold night.

When you made your way back to the den, the sun was beginning to rise. As Chanyeol got off of Junmyeon, and shooed his brother away, you approached him.

“Why can’t I hear your conversations?” 

You’d realized they were having a conversation pretty early on after your little spat, but didn’t comment on it, mainly because Chanyeol decided to whisper to his brothers so as to leave you out. You found it petty. But now, your curiosity got the best of you.

Chanyeol pulled back the hood of his pelt and took off his mask, scowling at you.“Why does it matter?” 

“Because I might never understand, but I can try.”

Chanyeol scoffed at you, pushing past you. You’d had enough. Your feet were aching, your fingers and the tip of your nose were numb, your lips were close to breaking because of how chapped you were, and you were hungry and dehydrated. 

So yes, you gripped his shoulder roughly, and pulled him back. You weren’t expecting him to let out a pained cry, and you didn’t expect to feel something hard beneath the cloak. 

Immediately, the three wolves stood from where they had gone to lay down, snarling angrily, but he waved them away. They stopped snarling, but didn’t sit.  

“What is—”

“Don’t touch me,” He said, swatting your hand away. 

“Let me help you,” You countered earnestly. “Please.”

“Why should I?”

You made a face. “Because I might be able to figure out what’s hurting you?”

Chanyeol rolled his eyes. “I already know what’s hurting me.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Then why haven’t you been able to stop it? It’s a shoulder injury, it’s not that h—”

You stopped midway, when your eyes drifted to his injured shoulder, hidden beneath his clothes, his right shoulder.

The very one you had shot the day you got bitten.

“I did that,” You mumbled, gears turning in your head “...And you can’t have one of Emyr’s healers treat you because… up until yesterday, no one knew you had left the inner circle of the forest.”

A smug grin spread across your face. “Scared of mommy finding out, huh?”

Oh, if looks could kill. 

 You shook your head, your smile leaving your face. “Really. Let me help, Chanyeol. Let me right a wrong of my own doing.”

Chanyeol’s eyes looked you up and down, eyeing you suspiciously. Finally, he grunted out softly, before nodding his head in your direction once. “What are you gonna do?”

You had him lead you to the nearest body of water, a small stream about ten minutes from the den. You sat him down on the banks of the stream, where there was no snow. You set down what you had brought: his knife, plus your bandages and a small jar of ointment Yixing had given you for your cut. 

It wasn’t working on you, but you had a feeling it was more due to the fact that you were cursed by ancient dark magic. 

“Take off your clothes.” You pulled off your cloak and rolled up your sleeves. He made a perplexed face. “What are you—”

“Keep your pants on,” You added hastily, “I need to see the injury.” 

After a few seconds of hesitation, he pulled off the pelt, and set it down gently next to where he was sitting. His tattered black shirt was also removed, and set down on top of it, but he left his necklace of animal teeth on. Kneeling behind him, your eyes settled on the tan skin of his back, before spotting the wound. 

He must have broken the wooden shaft of the arrow as he tried to remove it, because the edge was splintered and the arrowhead was lodged in his skin. The skin around the wound was an angry red, swollen. You could even see a bit of pus caking in the crevice of the cut.

You picked up the knife, mentally noting where you would cut around to pull the arrowhead out. Your other hand rested on his other. “This is gonna hurt,” You told him, voice soft, “I’m sorry.”

You pressed down around the wound gently at first, feeling him tense up beneath you. Then, when you pressed down with more force, he hissed in pain. Finally, when you plunged the knife into the wound, he groaned out.

His breathing turned heavy as you tried to work quickly, but not too hastily as to butcher your work. You used the knife as a sort of separation between the arrowhead and his skin, trying gently to pull it out. 

When you finally did, he let out a harsh, shaky breath, fists balled.

You led him to the stream, using your hands to wash out the wound. It wasn’t hot at all, and it probably wasn’t the cleanest, but it was the next best thing. Trying to remember how Yixing had done it that time you Jongdae accidentally shot Minseok with his bow, and you rinsed out the pus eventually. 

You slathered on the ointment a bit more generously than you probably should have, trying your best to not hurt him too much, before dressing the wound with some of your gauze. You ripped off a bit of fabric from your pant leg, before looping it below his arm and tying it taut, so the bandage wouldn’t slip free.

“Better?” You asked when you were finished. 

“I suppose,” He answered, moving his shoulder to test it out, “...Yes.”

You smiled, even though he wasn’t facing you. “You go back. I need to change my own bandages.”

“You know which way to go?” He asked, pulling on his shirt, and then his pelt. 

“Yes,” You answered, watching as he picked up his knife before he stalked off. 

He didn’t even thank you. You wondered vaguely if he knew how.

When you returned, now with fresh bandages, Chanyeol had curled up in the den with his brothers, and you went over to Ivan, who was chewing on some grass he’d found to put away your bandages and the ointment. Wordlessly, you flexed your fingers, watching how the skin had turned a black, necrotic color that would look unnatural on any skin tone. You wondered vaguely how much longer you had, before shaking your head. 

You fell asleep again on the hard, uncomfortable rock, sleeping for hours upon hours.

You woke again in the late afternoon, around the same time you had first been attacked by Chanyeol and his brothers. The wolves were awake, some milling around the den and the others sitting in a circle. You could smell blood, and you perked up, figuring it must have been a catch. 

Slowly, you made your way over to them. Jongin noticed you first, gaze hardening. His snout was stained red, and you looked down between his paws to see a piece of red meat. Chanyeol turned around when he realized Jongin was looking at you, looking you up and down before turning again. You pursed your lips at his face, the skin around his mouth stained with blood—he'd obviously been eating the meat raw like the others.

"Can I…?"

"You have your own food."

You sighed. "Not really. Not enough to satisfy myself for a whole day."

Chanyeol stared at you for a few moments, looking disinterested, before sighing. He pulled out his knife, before cutting off a sizable chunk of meat from the deer. He handed it to you, and you nodded. "Thanks," you mumbled, before walking off, sitting on your designated rock.

You needed to figure out how to cook this thing.

Thankfully, they hadn't taken your oil lantern, which you quickly uncapped and lit, before breaking a small branch off of the tree. You used the branch to pierce the meat, before letting it hover over the flame. 

The flame was a bit small, but you knew it would cook eventually. At least until the exterior was cooked. 

While you'd been working, you didn't realize that Junmyeon had made his way over to the circle, all of the wolves watching you. 

What is she doing? Jongin asked, perplexed. She looks insane.

"I don't know," Chanyeol answered, leaning over to the gray wolf, "Maybe it's a human thing."

She's gonna burn it, Kyungsoo huffed, before spitting out a bone. If she doesn't burn down the entire forest first.

Chanyeol rolled his eyes. Yes, you were foolish, but he doubted you were incompetent enough to burn down an entire forest.

No, he's got a point. Junmyeon's tone was serious. Yeol, go see what she's doing. It could be dangerous. 

Chanyeol set down his chunk of deer, wiping his hands off and making his way to you. Your eyes met his once he was standing in front of you. “Can I help y—”

“What are you doing?” 

“I’m cooking my meat.” You sounded matter-of-fact. “I don’t want to get sick by eating it raw.”

Chanyeol tilted his head, frowning. “We’ve never gotten sick like that.”

“You’re used to raw meat, and they’re wolves. I am neither. So I have to.”

He pointed at the lantern, eyeing it warily. “What’s that?”

You stared at him for a second, before realizing just how isolated he had been from the human world. He didn’t know what bread or jam was, nor did he know about lanterns. He called guns those things, and he eyed you like you were other, as if you didn’t have the same shape of limbs, the same joints, ligaments and bones. 

“I-it’s a lantern,” You explained, snapping out of your thoughts. You explained how it worked, how it was lit, and how you had to wait for it to cook the fire before you could eat it.

You didn’t notice how your bodies scooted closer every few seconds. 

Neither did Chanyeol.

[katnissmellarkkk]

“Why are you wearing my sweater?” “Because it smells like you.”

Hi! So thank you for sending a prompt! I hope this is good enough? I’m so bad at writing fluff that isn’t kind of angsty, so I tried. In my defense, the angst isn’t at all between Everlark. But anyways, I enjoyed writing this so thanks for sending!!! 

Oh, also it’s important to know ahead of time before reading that a). this is set post-mockingjay and b). in my version of post-canon, Panem took on some semblance of our modern day winter holidays. So they have a celebration that’s kind of a variation of Christmas.

My feet trudge down the stairs, still somewhat unwillingly, although no one is forcing me. I could stay upstairs in my room all day if I so wished, I could hide under the blankets and just pretend. I could just pretend today was an ordinary, boring day and that most of the people I know won’t be convening in my house for the vast majority of the afternoon and evening.

But I don’t. Because that wouldn’t be fair to do to Peeta.

Peeta, who loves the celebrating and the family gatherings and the newfound holidays this country has adapted since the end of the war, since the end of Snow and Coin and the hunger games.

And it’s not that I don’t want to see my family. It’s not that I necessarily want to be a hermit in my own home, like Haymitch.

I just really don’t like this new holiday. For whatever reason, it has made my skin crawl every year, for the last six years that it’s been slowly making it’s way across the districts. Every year, people in every district alike put out decorations, purchase candy and trees, cook meat and pastries and, though every district calls the holiday a differing variety of names, everyone all celebrates alike. With their family, traveling to see loved ones, thankful for the safety not one of us can take for granted now since the war.

Maybe it’s that seeing the whole country uniformly celebrating anything still makes my skin crawl, as I still see loud, boisterous crowds in my dreams at night, and though the people celebrating this holiday are probably nothing like the faces I see in my sleep, I still can’t shake the connection.

Or maybe it’s that not all my family survived the war. Maybe it’s the fact that I don’t want to celebrate anything if I can’t celebrate with everyone I love.

Either way I still make my way down the stairs and through the living room, just the same. I walk past Haymitch, drunk and passed out on the floor and the embers burning in the hearth next to him. I walk into the kitchen and meet the eyes of my husband, currently stirring batter of some kind in the bowl I did my best to handcraft for his birthday two years ago.

“Hi,” Peeta greets, his eyes visibly surprised to see me. “What’re you doing up?”

I give him a look as I slide into a tall chair by the counter. “It’s nine-thirty,” I deadpan. “I’m usually up at six.”

“I just figured,” he starts before hesitating, measuring me carefully before second-guessing his words. “I know you don’t like the new holiday traditions,” he finally amends.

I shrug my shoulders, non-committal. “It’s not like I can hide away while everyone’s here,” I state, as if I wasn’t contemplating doing that exact thing on the way down the stairs.

Peeta though touches my hand and gives it a squeeze, sympathetically. “I could tell them you’re sick?” He offers softly.

A part of me wishes to take him up on that offer but I shake my head plainly. “It wouldn’t be right.”

“I can tell everyone to head over to Delly’s and Kanon’s. Delly doesn’t mind changing her plans and hosting. We can just spend the day you and me.”

“And Haymitch makes three?” I tease, but give a half smile as I turn down this idea too. “I’m fine, Peeta. Really. I can even help you finish up...” I look at the bowl of mixed ingredients, attempting to decipher what he’s concocting. I’ve been married to him long enough to put together the smell of vanilla, cinnamon and chocolate, but still manage to come up empty to what his final product will be.

He just laughs at my confusion. “No, actually, I was planning on taking a break anyway,” he says, putting the bowl and spoon down, but I easily know he’s lying. He never stops halfway through making anything for a break, no matter how sore his arm can get from stirring.

“Really?” I raise one thick eyebrow at him, knowingly, as he walks around the counter and pulls at my hand to follow him.

As I stand, Peeta evidently takes in my attire for the first time since I came downstairs.

“Why are you wearing my sweater?” He asks, his own blonde brows furrowing now.

“Because it smells like you,” I say defensively, hugging it to me like I’m afraid he’s going to steal it away.

But his eyes soften almost imperceptibly and he gives me a look that is so loving and so sweet, it would disgust me if it were from anyone else.

“Come here,” he directs evenly, tugging me by hand. I let him guide me to the living room, taking a seat on the coffee table while he finds residence across from me, on the couch. We both, probably unwisely, ignore the drunk sleeping off his stupor by the flames.

Peeta takes my hands in his and leans down to press his mouth to my knuckles. “Talk to me, Katniss.”

“There’s nothing to talk about,” I insist, but my voice is too quiet and he’s been married to me for over six years and he knows me too well at this point. He knew me too well at sixteen, let alone now, after all these years.

Proving just that, he shakes his head. “Something’s bothering you. And I don’t like it when you’re not happy.”

I shrug then, because I have no defense to really give. “I just... dislike Yuleday,” I admit simply, using the most common term for the holiday.

I feel his large hand cover my cheek tenderly. “Is this because your mom is bringing Rod this year?”

My jaw clenches at the mention of my mother’s new husband. I open my mouth to deny it but then I look into Peeta’s kind, understanding blue eyes, that have never judged me, that have sought so hard for so long to never let his demons cast shadows over them again, and I just can’t. His baby blue eyes stop me in my tracks, stop me from telling him a blatant lie. “It’s a part of it,” I admit begrudgingly.

I feel his hand move to rub one of my shoulders. “I know. I know it’s hard,” he validates. I lean over and kiss his fingers as they try to massage the tension away. “But it has been almost fourteen years since your dad died, Katniss. Your mom... it’s okay for her to move on. I think it’s a good thing, that she was able to open her heart again to someone new.”

I nod mechanically, knowing all this is true, logically. “Yeah,” I try to agree, but it comes out unevenly and I can’t quite make myself look at him now.

“It’s easier to accept from an outside position,” he notes kindly.

But I shake my head. “It’s not just that, Peeta. It’s... it’s not just that she remarried or that she didn’t tell me about him until they were engaged. It’s... it’s everything that came with her getting remarried.”

Already knowing what I meant without asking me to verbalize, he adds, “It’s the step-children that make it more difficult to swallow.” His words are a clear statement, not a question.

I shrug at that, knowing it’s true. “It just feels odd that she has this whole other family now,” I explain, feeling immature and ridiculous and petty.

Practically reading my mind again, Peeta tries to comfort me. “That’s natural, Katniss. For you to feel that way, I mean. I would.” He lifts my chin so I have to look at him now. “I would feel the exact same way. Especially...” he cuts himself off now, once again second-guessing what he wants to say.

“Especially what?” I prompt.

“Especially if I lost my sister like you did. I would be sensitive about my mother gaining step-kids too. Younger step-kids, at that.” He gives me a long measuring look in which makes me feel naked. And not in a good way, like usual. “That’s what really bothering you, after all.”

My eyes widen, startled by his call out. “What?”

“That’s why you’re really upset. About the holiday, about everyone coming over, about your mom’s new family. Because it just reminds you that Prim is missing.”

I stare straight ahead blankly, unable to respond. Nothing hurts more than that simple truth, that glaring fact, that cuts me right down to the bone. That the real reason I hate this new celebration is because my sister would absolutely love it and she’s not here to experience it. She’s not here to see it and I don’t know how to enjoy it properly, even for Peeta’s sake, without her here too.

“Come here,” Peeta says now, and he tugs me by hand from the coffee table and into his lap. His fingers sift through my hair tenderly and his lips find resistance against my forehead. After a long beat, he whispers against my temple, “She would want you to make new memories. Prim would love Yuleday. And she would want you to love it.”

“I know she would love it,” I say and we both pretend not to hear the way my voice cracks. “But she isn’t here to love it and... I feel wrong celebrating without her. I know it’s been eight years-“

“Katniss, there’s no time limit on grief. Trust me, I know.” Of course he did. He lost his entire family in one fell swoop and I’m over here whining about my loss. I feel his hand slip up my sweater—well, technically his sweater—and rub my back. “Do you remember what I said at our toasting?”

I crane my neck back from it’s place against his throat, giving him a puzzled look. “Off topic but yes. I remember everything from that day.” And I do. I remember how perfect his outfit was, how it wasn’t too casual or too formal, just the right simplicity. I remember what he said and how the warmth of the fire reflected the warmth inside my heart. I remember the bread he made and how it was the exact the bread he tossed to me in the rain all those years ago, the exact bread that had saved my life. I remember the look in his eyes as he stared at me, the tears he shed of utter happiness, because we were finally able to love each other safely and wholly and without pressure or reservations.

“Do you remember what I said about Prim?” He inquiries softly.

And then I understand why he brought up our toasting. “Yes,” I affirm, my voice quiet again.

“She’s always here, for all the big events and the small ones. She lives inside you, Katniss. Your sister is a part of you, no matter what.”

I blink back the moisture in my eyes, trying my hardest not to let any of it fall. “I know.”

“Prim would want you to be happy,” he says again, kissing my hair, his fingers dancing over my braids. I put my hair in two today, knowing he liked it when I did. “Happy with and for your mother.”

I let out a breath I didn’t know I was holding. “I do hope she’s happy,” I murmur finally, my grey eyes boring into his. “I hope Rod makes her as happy as you make me.”

I feel his lips before I realize he’s leaning in, our mouths connecting instantaneously. His lips are softer than ever, but still firm, still able to create an electric spark inside of me. I thought the kiss on the beach was good when I was seventeen, but in reality, it was nothing compared to how he makes me feel eight years later. It was nothing compared to the fireworks he erupts now, without even so much as trying.

But he can’t go without teasing me for long and as soon as we pull apart, as I trail my lips downwards to begin hungrily kissing his throat, he doesn’t even miss a beat, saying, “I hope Rod makes your mom as happy as my sweaters make you.”

I immediately pull my mouth away, my eyes narrowing. “I’m leaving.”

“No,” he pleads, grabbing me by the waist as I try to stand and tugging me back into his arms again. His lips find where my neck meets my shoulder and he sucks, putting a vast amount of pressure there, knowing it’s my utter weakness. “Don’t leave me. I love you,” he mumbles gently against my skin.

I can’t help my smile then as I reach my hand up and touch his cheek, making sure not to interfere with him continuing his task. “I love you too, Peeta.”

But another voice joins us, effectively ending the moment. “Can you two get a room?” Haymitch barks, his eyes bleary as he leans his head up off the floor now, still waking up.

“Actually, we got a whole house, Haymitch,” Peeta assures smoothly. “But thanks for making yourself at home in it.”

Haymitch only offers a thumbs up in response before flopping back on the hardwood, groaning in response to the dying fire’s last sizzling flames.

“If only we could use our house to our... liking. In peace.” I don’t even bother keeping my voice down or hiding my meaning from Haymitch.

“Girl, if you want to talk like that, save it for after company leaves.”

“You’re not company, Haymitch,” I shoot back.

“I’m talking about everyone else coming today, sweetheart.”

Oh. It had momentarily slipped my mind that we were expecting people any moment now. “We’re really grateful you could grace us with your presence early,” Peeta says to the hungover man, who’s now reaching his hand closer to the fire, attempting to absorb any heat he can.

“Shut it, boy. It’s Yuleday. Have some kindness for an old man who saved your life.”

“By kindness he means alcohol,” I murmur, eliciting Peeta’s chuckle.

“She’s not wrong,” Haymitch adds under his breath.

“Let me up,” Peeta pats my butt, signaling for me to get off his lap. “I have to go finish the chocolate cinnamon rolls before our family gets here.”

But as he starts to make his way back towards the kitchen, I follow behind him, grabbing his hand to catch up. “What’re you doing?” He asks, his voice confused.

“I’m going to help you finish baking.”

His brow push together. “What suddenly got you in the spirit?”

I shrug, making my way ahead of him and grabbing the bowl he was using before to stir the batter around. “Like Haymitch said. It’s Yuleday.”

Peeta’s eyes relax and then soften as he looks at me, no doubt taking in the image of me in his sweater, mixing batter around in the bowl I handmade him. Just as I finish stirring all the ingredients together, he wraps his arms around my waist and starts planting kisses on my neck greedily.

And I decide in that moment, as I twist around to capture my husband’s lips again with my own, to do everything I can to be happy for my mom.

To be as happy for her as I know somewhere Prim is for me.

[crazywitchenby2]

Rainy Days

For: @grufflepuff-writes-stuff

Tags: fluff, platonic cuddles, rain, rainy day at one of Tony’s cabins™

TW: mentions of COVID related supplies and implications of COVID itself 

Today was a hell of a day.

It was the beginning of November, which meant cold fronts and jacket season was officially in. The Avengers had decided to stay at one of Tony’s cabins in Tennessee for a bit of a “vacation”, but there was never truly a day off when you worked in a group such as this.

The climate was slightly warmer here compared to the already snowy streets of New York, but it was cold nevertheless. Today Tony had decided to buy an amount of jackets that could only be considered bulk and donate them to the local homeless shelters. Not only jackets, but tons of supplies for winter. Socks, sweaters, insulated sleeping bags, all of it. He also included masks and germ-x just to stock up. Tony really could’ve just had it shipped to the places but both him and Steve thought it would be healthy for the team to get a bit of fresh air.

So that’s how you and the rest of the team ended up unloading literal truckloads of supplies all day. The reason you had stopped unloading was the rainfall that began bombarding everything in sight. Not that you didn’t want to, everyone was completely on board with helping out, but the strain of it was enough to have anyone tuckered-out. Including the two super soldiers, who were both now sprawled out on the couch watching some show on the TV. Everyone managed to get at the very least doused in the rain, but most just had a shower and got comfortably dressed then retired to bed. With the exception of you and the super-serum duo. You had a sweater on but even with the heaters in the cabin it still managed to get chilly inside. When sweaters and cozy blankets fail to do the trick, theres only one other acceptable form of warming up; Hot Cocoa. You had gone to the kitchen and made three mugs of hot cocoa, two for them and one for yourself, but the sight you came back to nearly made you drop them. Walking up to the two of them you had to stifle a laugh. Bucky was aggressively trying to rest his feet in Steve’s lap, and Steve was having none of it. 

“Buck, no.” Steve shoved Bucky off of him. 

“Buck, yes.” Bucky said, putting his feet back and crossing his arms. 

This happened another 4 times.

“Bucky, no.” Steve said, practically throwing him off this time.

“Bucky, yes.” Bucky said.

“James Buchanan Bucky Barnes, if you don’t quit that I will get Nat on your ass.” Steve said while trying not to laugh, shoving Bucky’s boots off on him again and holding them there by his ankles.

“Language!” Bucky replied, grinning while crossing his legs at the ankles and throwing them over the back of the couch. Steve sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. 

“Buck, you are a literal child. A one-hundred and seven year old CHILD.” he said.

“Yeah, and you’re a one-hundred and six year old ‘no fun’.” Bucky shot back indignantly. “I bet you agree with me, don’t you doll?” Bucky continued, looking at you. 

“Both of you are incorrigible. Here, drink up before they get cold.” You said, handing them their mugs. “And you,” you said, looking at Bucky, “scoot, your legs are taking up the whole damn sofa.” Bucky laughed and moved his legs so that you could settle in on the middle cushion. You turned to the TV and sipped your hot cocoa. Raymond Burr was cross examining some person who apparently committed some crime. Steve and Bucky seemed rather invested but you couldn’t understand why. 

“Who’s this guy again?” you asked Bucky.

“You haven’t seen Perry Mason?” He asked incredulously, and you shook your head. “Steve, are you hearing this?” 

“Hmm?” Steve replied, turning to him. 

“She hasn’t seen Perry Mason before!” Bucky exclaimed. Steve’s face dropped. 

“She hasn’t?” Steve asked him. “Well we gotta fix that. Buck, hand me the remote, we’re starting from the beginning.” 

And this was how you ended up binging all nine seasons with the two super soldiers. Through the night everyone kind of got more sprawled out on the couch. Gradually everybody drifted closer to each other. By the end of the night you were laying on top of Steve, an arrangement made so that both of you could stretch out your legs, and Bucky had fallen asleep beside you two (he was closest to the couch’s back), his arm over both of you. It had been chilly before but these guys emitted enough body heat to melt the snow off a mountain. Well, maybe not really, but it was warm and comfy, and that’s all that mattered.

You were at somewhere around the 7th season before Steve finally joined Bucky in dreamland. You didn’t notice until they were deep asleep, and decided not to wake Steve or Bucky just to go back to your room, so you laid there until you fell asleep too, succumbing to the sweet warmth of both of their body heat. 

A/N; Sooooooo when I wrote and “edited” this the first go around, I was sleep deprived and I’m still not used to being able to start and finish a fic in the same day. Usually writers block makes that an unviable option, so I was excited to get this out when I did finish it, but I failed to notice some (to me) detremental errors in this fic until I re-read it today. So this is the finalized/revised version. I’m much happier now that I’ve actualy mentioned rain in the fic (I completely forgot about that bit last time 🤦🏻‍♀️) and I’ve added a few more details and things I think im happy with it now. @grufflepuff-writes-stuff sorry for the extra tag, but I wanna make sure you’ve got the revised version!

[razorblade180]

Twin Snowflakes pt21:Ice Breaker?

[Part 20 here! <-]

Snow, as far as the eye can see. Summer has had enough of snow. A terrible thing considering her move sets and living situation. The frozen rain gently fell down into a meadow of pure white, blanketing any beautiful flowers that could be right below the surface. Her body fell flat, landing stomach down. Cold, but not too cold; the usual case for her mind every time she ended up here. Why was she here? Her heater was definitely on before she laid down. Wool socks kept her toes nice and toasty, and windows were shut tight. She had triple checked. Perhaps this was an actual dream this time instead of an unpleasant visit from the worst guest ever. Summer didn’t want to deal with Shiva. She didn’t want to do anything really. Her body felt...tired. Eyelids were heavy and energy was spent. What was this?

The crunch of snow being crushed broke the silence of the meadow and obstructed Summer’s already limited view. Her head lifted up to see the last person she wanted to. Now she really hoped this wasn’t a dream. It would be dreadful for Shiva to take those away from her too.

The problematic entity laid down on her side. Her hand reached out to brush away a few strands of Summer’s hair to get a better look. “Tired?” Shiva asked, rubbing the girl’s cheek. “I’d be too, faking joy in my life. How long do you think you’ll last? You feel it right, time slipping past you? Days, hours, minutes, seconds; how much more time can you spend failing at everything? Aren’t you tired of it all?”

Summer didn’t respond. Summer couldn’t respond. All she could do was stare into Shiva’s alluring gaze and weep, motionless.

“Awww poor thing.” Shiva rolled Summer over on her back, then straddled her. Her left hand kept rubbing Summer’s pale cheek. Shiva looked down at the girl with a smile that while small, was still oozing with a smug attitude despite her calm voice. “Just close your eyes and surrender to me. What else can you do? You can’t beat me, out think me, or do anything that matters when it counts the most. Do you enjoy it, burdening everyone? How much longer will you hold Nick back?”

Summer’s lip began to quiver. The warmth of her tears was the only source of heat filling her. They began to run faster and faster down the side of her face, only to meet Shiva’s gentle hands rubbing them away. Those same hands drifted lower down and stopped on Summer’s eck. Shiva never squeezed or even entertained. Her demeanor felt almost infant like, the way she tilted her head as she examined everything Summer did. Or...what she didn’t do.

Above, the ice ceiling began melting away again, the meadow fading into dust along the way. Shiva was the last thing Summer saw before everything became an empty space of black. Then, she woke. Dried tear marks were strong on her face and something pinned her right hand from trying to rub them off. Summer looked at her bedside and was taken back by the sight of her brother sleeping with his head laying on the mattress and hand holding her own. “Nick?” Summer said softly, pulling her hand free gently. Nick had always been a light sleeper. Summer had barely done anything and yet Nick woke up.

The boy rubbed the sleep out of his eyes. “Hey sis. Did you sleep okay? You kept crying and trembling.”

“I was?” Summer rubbed her neck and rubbed her tear tracks away. “Sorry. I...guess I had a nightmare.” The sun barely hit her curtains so it must still be pretty early. “Were you here all night? Nick, you’re sick.”

“It’s not like you can catch a cold, miss immunity.”

Summer pouted. “That’s not what I meant and you know it. You’re not gonna get better sleeping on the ground. Worry about yourself first for once?” She said, dry and tired. Summer laid back down and faced away from her brother. She heard him stand up but didn’t hear him walk away. Her mattress sank down seconds later and his hand took hers again.

“Are you...mad at me? You were pretty upset a couple days ago about the Paladin match, and Valerie sure had some choice things to say to me. I know I can be…overbearing at times. I get that you probably want space, but can you at least tell me if there’s anything I did specifically.”

His voice sounded hurt and tired as well. Summer didn’t know Valerie and Nick were on shaking ground. Is that why Nick didn’t tell her he was sick? Summer turned around. “I’m not mad at you. Things have been really low lately is all. I’m sorry if it felt like I’ve directed any of it at you. Things should get better after the tournament. Veronica will probably leave, I’ll have nothing but school lined up, and Oscar will hopefully be back by then. Not the biggest fan of virtual sessions.”

“Yeah, I can see that. Listen if you want more free time then I won’t make you-”

“Performing at the tournament is just fine.” Summer smiled. “Like I would miss a chance to stun a crowd, all of Remnant in fact. Besides, I made an Acr promise to an orphan, remember? I couldn’t back out if I wanted to.”

“Yeah...that would be pretty bad:” Nick cringed at the thought of an entire orphanage being sad and lied to. That’s guilt that would follow someone forever. “Got any plans today? It might do us some good to practice at least once together before the tournament. Not that we really need it.”

“Please, if it isn’t our dual summoning then we’re set. We can’t do that today though. Veronica and I are...umm…” Summer wanted to tell Nick about their argument yesterday which led to Veronica all but forcing her to agree to a fight today and the use of stolen diamond dust, but it wouldn’t make much sense to. Endangering him with her risks was the main reason things escalated. “We’re...going around town and the woods to get things for my outfit.”

“The woods?”

“Yeah she wants to see me fight grimm and we’re gonna look for pure dust and stuff. So don’t worry if you get one of your little twin chills or whatever you call it.”

“I don’t call it anything. Twin chill is nice though. Well be careful. Expect a call if I feel it. Better safe than sorry. It would suck for me to be grabbing school papers while Shiva is rampaging through the woods.” Nick was getting a little stressed thinking about it. One minute he’s stapling papers then sees a massive glacier outside the school window. Not to discredit his sister, but that’s the kind of luck Nick typically had. Things go fine, and then they don’t.

“School papers?” Summer questioned. “Nick it’s not a school day.

“I know. I’m gonna stop by there this afternoon and get the work I missed.” A look of disbelief and judgement shot him right in his heart from Summer. “What!? Just because I’m sick doesn’t mean the homework disappeared. I’m simply going to get it and come back home to rest. Summer’s look did not waver. Nick turned a little red for the nonverbal call out. He stood up. “Leave me alone! I’m going back to bed and then I will do exactly as I said I would do.”

“You’re full of shit…” Summer said while doing a fake cough.

“Night, you little diva.” Nick walked out her room and grabbed the door to shut it.

Summer reached out for a second. “Wait a second.” She said, her voice more reserved. “Nick, y...you love me right? Like, spending time with me?”

Nicholas looked at his sister with a raised brow. “Of course I love you. You’re my baby sister. Not that you being that means I have to hang around you or anything. Why, someone dumb tell you otherwise?”

Summer couldn’t help but smile. “No, hearing you actually say it is just nice. Rest well.” Nick smiled back then closed the door. The smile Summer wore tried its best to stay, but left as quick as it came. Her swarming thoughts made her head feel heavy and cluttered until Summer found herself resting it in her hands as she attempted to rest a little more. Sleep never came back for her unfortunately, no matter how many minutes passed her by.

It felt like no time at all before Summer was out of her bed and getting dressed for the day. She decided to keep her hair down for now and was more concerned about if she was gonna be warm enough. Her standard black thermal leggings and old white over coat should do the trick, but Summer felt compelled to put her ear muffs around her neck and wear warmer socks with her already poofy white winter boots. Snow gloves were put in her coat for safe keeping. Testing diamond dust without Nick was more stressful than she thought it would be. At least the layers of close gave her a good excuse whenever she’d start sweating.

The fated knock on the door finally came and took ten years off of Summer’s life. “Y-Yes?” The door creaked open before being fully swung open with Veronica on the other side. An exceptionally beautiful soft brushed purple winter coat that had a belt around the waist and big black buttons to bundle the whole thing up. Her color of choice was complemented with grayish-white jeans that looked roomie; a weird choice for the girl. Then there were her gym shoes school? Her entire bottom half was casual in contrast from the coat.

Summer got a bit worried. Veronica dresses herself with purpose. Her wardrobe doesn’t sacrifice functionality for flare, yet is stylish nonetheless. This one felt disjointed however. “Ummm what’s with the shoes and jeans? I would’ve thought you’d look a little more...stunning?” Said Summer, choosing her words carefully. She must’ve succeeded because Veronica gave a rude look and nothing else. It was easy to tell that she was still tired from the way she rubbed her eyes. “Didn’t sleep well either?”

“I’m sore and the time difference hasn’t gone away yet. As for my clothes, why would I wear my good clothes when I’m going to the woods and things can get physical? I’d wear a different coat if I had one.” Veronica pulled out a scrunchy and put her lion’s mane of a hair into a ponytail tail.

The sleeves of the coat fell down and Summer became a little more anxious to see Ember Cilca on Veronica’s wrists.“ Oh right, of course she’ll dress comfy in a fight. And use a strong weapon. Why not use her own? Is punching me that exciting?” Her eyes looked down and noticed a small duffel bag outside the door. “What is she gonna do to me!?” Summer ‘casually’ walked over to her sword and put it on her hip. It made her feel a little safer. Then she grabbed a hidden vial of diamond dust. Safety was right back out the window.

“You’re only bringing the one?”

“If this goes terribly then I don’t need Shiva getting a double dose. One is more than enough.” Summer held it out. “Here. It’s probably better you have it for now.”

“On that, we can agree on.” Veronica took the vial and grabbed and used her tail to grab her bag. “Let’s get this over with already…” she stormed off immediately.

Summer thought it best to follow Veronica’s lead. The girl was clearly in a bad mood. “Dying in the woods by a girl crushing on my brother. Yeah, that’s on par with the rest of my life.”

xxxx

With two of noisiest people out of the house, it was pretty easy to tell something was amiss for Weiss. It’s almost eight in the morning and the sound of guitar or vocals hadn’t rattled her morning coffee. Yeah they had a sound room, but that never stopped Summer from playing a rift on the way to it. “It’s quiet, too quiet.” She took a sip from her mug then went to the garden. “Maybe Summer is training? Veronica could probably hear through the sound room.”

The closer Weiss got to the garden, the easier it was to hear that someone actually was there. Yang. She was upside doing push-ups in just a tank top and yellow pajama pants.

“Forty five...forty six...forty seven…forty- oh hey Weiss.”

“Hehehe, how are you not freezing? It’s barely warmed up yet.”

“Since when have I ever been bothered by a little cold air?” Yang let her balance slip to land right side up. “I’m hot every day all day.” She flipped her hair for dramatic effect.”

“Well Mrs. Hot stuff, have you seen Summer? Despite her reluctance to go to school, the girl is an early riser. Especially on the weekends. Is- hey, you got a little…” Weiss pointed on a few bruises on Yang’s right shoulder.

“Oh this? Veronica wanted to spar yesterday. Her mood wasn’t exactly friendly.” Yang sighed. Her body flopped on the soft grass near the tear area. “That girl, it feels like all we do these days is spar rather than trying to talk.”

“Gee, I wonder where she gets that from.” Weiss said with the most sarcastic tone in the world. “I guess I’m in no position to make fun. Summer is hard to communicate with too. Teenagers man.”

“Tell me about it! Were we this bad?”

“Yeah.” Weiss nodded, remembering everything and cringing. “Yeah… gods, we were a lot to deal with.”

“You maybe. I was pretty-”

“Hard headed and passionate? Uncompromising on everything? Loud as hell?”

Yang sat up. “Okay already! Point taken hehe. Oh if you’re looking for Summer, she’s out in town with Veronica.”

That wasn’t an answer Weiss thought she’d hear. “For what? Those two can’t breathe in front of each other without wanting to fight.”

“Well they don’t have a choice if Veronica wants to make a perfect outfit for her. Walking, running, sitting, posture, Veronica likes seeing all of that in order to make a quality design. Kid has a real gift.” Yang crossed her arms. “Too bad people don’t give her the time of day.”

“Oh. So the situation hasn’t gotten any better for her?” Weiss asked.

Yang shrugged. She began pacing around in circles. “Besides what happened here, there hasn’t been a school fight in a while or calls home. Grades are average but that’s to be expected. No drugs either, thankfully. Pretty sure that was a one off thing. Still, Veronica is clearly unhappy and not even Blake gets much out of here these days. We’d take her therapy but she’ll run off or flat out won’t go.” Yang let out another huge sigh, slouching over. “I’m worried. I just want her talking to somebody that will listen and care.

Weiss could relate to that. “Well, at least Nick chips away at that armor of hers.”

“True. That boy is magic. I don’t wanna have him doing it all by himself though. I’m positive he has his fair share of problems too. How is he?”

“All work and no play recently. You saw how sick he was yesterday right? If I could just take a little bit of his drive and replace it with Summer’s reasoning….”

“Ruuuuude! I’m reasonable!” Shouted the boy from the balcony. “Some would say I’m actually quite flexible.

Weiss scoffed, rolling her eyes playfully. “Those people don’t live with you! How are you feeling? Still have a fever?”

“A little one, but I think I’m alright. Well enough to go get my assignments from school? Please?” He said, giving puppy eyes that made Yang laugh and Weiss facepalm.

“Hahaha. Nick, I wish my horses worked half as hard as you do, but I think you might be giving your mother gray hair.”

“Oh he knows! I tell him all the time that one day he’ll notice my hair is gonna go from white, to silver over night because of him and his sister.”

He smiled. “And you’ll look just as beautiful.”

“Nice try, Jaune jr. Fine, you can get your work. However, you’re not walking. I’ll drive you there later and just like with training I’m gonna time you. I swear I don’t know where you get this drive from. Even I know when to take a break.”

“Not at his age.” Yang shot back. “Jaune and Ruby mellowed you out. Nick, your mother didn’t know what to do with herself sometimes. Especially when nobody was around. I’ve walked in on her reading a cookbook, in Menageran! I live there now and I barely know one dialect!”

“Blake didn’t teach them all?

“No point. There’s tons of different languages. Just ask Veronica. She knows two fluently and will gladly show it off. Did you by any chance hear the part of the conversation where your mother and I talked about her? If so, can you not mention it?”

“No worries, didn’t hear anything besides you wanting her to open up more. I don’t think you gotta worry about that too much.” Nick spoke with confidence, hitting his chest. “Veronica might not know it yet but I’m positive Eliza enjoys her company; and I’m trying my best to get Veronica to talk to Summer semi-friendly.”

Weiss was skeptical. “You’ve tried that before. Got a master plan you haven’t shared?”

He shook his head proudly. “Not at all! Hahaha!” Nick looked to the sky. Gentle snowflake flowed through a slow air current like a frozen river. “All I have is hope.”

xxxx

“This is utterly hopeless.” Was the only thing Veronica can say in despair as dozens of people stood in multiple lines to board airships. “Why is everyone up so early!? It’s been half an hour and we haven’t budged. The week day isn’t like this.”

“Of course it isn’t. People work.” Summer looked around to see familiar citizens going on and off ships with luggage; as well as complete strangers who haven’t adjusted to the cold of Atlas. “Many important people have already started showing up in advance for the tournament. They may not help like you will but coming so soon is a great excuse to explore the kingdom and gain influence. They might even drop by the schools and try recruiting if they can get away with it. Almanac is a place where-”

“I know, I know. It’s where society collides. It’s built down on Mantle as a way to expose youths like yourself to how the less fortunate live and inspire you to make the city better. Conversely, all the trips and equipment allows the kids in Mantle to have quality equipment and see Atlas up close; giving them a goal to work towards.”

“It also exposes the older people here to the citizens of Mantle. Creating situations where interactions between the two isn’t rare changes some people’s perspective, or at least makes them think twice about deciding on some affirmative action that hurts the people below. It’s a little harder to disregard the common man whenever their kids are friends with them and you know some.”

“Not really. They think twice because it isn’t smart to angry people who can get to your front door with ease.”

Summer felt her entire vibe get a little bleeker. “Way to make it pessimistic.”

“Hard not to be with a line like this!” Veronica shouted too loudly, drawing a few eyes their way. Not that she cared. “Ugh, isn’t there another means of getting down? Can’t you flex your last name and skip?”

“Weren’t you listening? A lot of high profile people are here. If I throw titles around then so will they. Then you have a bunch of rich people being snobby and being put into a bad light. That includes your family.” Summer witnessed Veronica’s agitated state get a little more restless. It was very strange. This wasn’t the “people agitate me” kind of mood Veronica showed off. No, she seemed torn up. Against her better judgment, Summer took the girl's hand in concern. “Hey are okay? You’re acting weird.”

Veronica looked at the girl's big blue eyes. It was scary how pretty those eyes were. Arc blue had its own appeal that was different then Nick’s chilling Schnee eyes. Veronica looked at her hand and pulled it away. “I’m just a little hungry and you know, lady stuff.” She lied about the second part. “Also don’t touch me without asking. You know I don’t let anybody touch me without asking.”

“Yeah between that and your semblance I can’t imagine you being much of a hugger.” Summer laughed nervously, wondering why she said that of all things. This line has single handedly forced the longest interactions they’ve had without a fight in an extremely long time. Summer was waiting for Veronica to decide on fighting here instead. They were running out of banter! “So umm...wanna eat and pray the line gets shorter when we get back?”

“Will it?” Veronica deadpanned. The lack of eye contact told her all she needed to know. This line was only gonna get worse. “Ugh. Fuck it, new plan. I’m not waiting any longer to get a ride.”

“I told you, using your title is a bad idea.”

“I’m not going to, genius. Follow me.” Veronica ditched the line and started heading back more towards the outer rim of Atlas, right where buildings and watch posts were stationed. “Let’s play a game.”

“That’s never a good sentence.” Summer instinctively moved a little slower. She was not about to get sucker punched. “What kind of game?” She was already regretting asking. It was gonna be crazy.

Veronica finally stopped moving and turned around. “A race to Mantle. The fun way.” She pointed to the edge.

Summer looked out and saw the chains extend down. One of them had a good enough angle to point them in the direction where the woods are. Right at the edge of the old slums in fact. “You’re nuts…”

“Don’t play that card!” Veronica pointed at her. “I know all about you snowboarding on these things!”

Boom! Caught red handed. No way Summer could deny that. “I promised Winter I wouldn’t needlessly endanger myself.” That was a solid excuse.

“Aren’t we literally going to the woods to mess with dangerous dust you stole?” And that was a solid answer. “You’re not gonna talk me out of this. I debate and public speak on national levels. You have a school club.”

“I’m not even in the debate club.”

“Exactly. Now stop arguing. We’re wasting time.”

As usual, Summer could only fall into whatever crazy thing would happen next. But she wasn’t giving up that easily. Veronica wouldn’t dare be too rude in public. “What’s stopping me from walking away right now? I could get on an airship and make it to the forest before you get down the chains.”

An amused chuckle came from Veronica. “Hehehe, it’s funny how wrong you are sometimes. I said race to Mantle, and I never said I was gonna use the chains.” Before Summer had a chance to even think about what she just said, Veronica fell through the ground.

It was so sudden that Summer was thankful she didn’t blink. “Veronica!?” She gasped. Now there wasn't a choice at all! “That’s so...I can’t believe..aaah! Why is she like this!?” Summer shouted to nobody. Her feet raced to the edge, then jumped. The rush of cold early morning air was more than enough for her to create a snowboard of ice that planted her right on the chains. “Can’t things be normal for once?” A path of glyphs shot down the chain. The use of her semblance with the little control over diamond dust she had made for a potent combination. Summer was blazing down the chain! The links between each one were terrifying though. A late hop could shatter the board and send her flying. “Don’t fuck up don’t fuck up don’t fuck up don’t fuck up, and juuuump!” Little hops was all it took for her to soar down wards for seconds before landing. “Doing a trick or two would be pretty amazing if this wasn’t so dangerous and a race.” Summer looked around the air. “Where is she anyways?” Her gaze finally spotted the girl. Veronica was actually beneath her. The girl’s back faced the ground while her hands rested in her pockets, eyes closed blissfully. “Veronica?” Summer said. She got noanswer. Veronica continued to fall effortlessly. As if she was unconscious. Summer shouted again. “Veronica! You alright over there?” Still no answer. Now Summer was worried. “HEY!? VEE VEE!”

Not even her despised nickname gave Veronica a reaction. Summer could feel her heart start to race. “She can’t actually be unconscious right!?” Reasoning with herself wasn’t working. If by some chance Veronica was knocked out...Summer didn’t want to think about it. There was no time to think. Without another second to waste, Summer jumped off the chain and began falling towards her long term acquaintance. She brandished Myrtenaster and angled three glyphs to bounce off of to reach Veronica. Summer extended her hand in fear of the girl’s safety. “Veronica!!!!”

“Huh?” Veronica opened her eyes to see a blur of white and blue hurling towards her. “What in the-” She wasn’t the only one surprised. Summer’s eyes bugged out. The girl was completely caught off guard, crashing into Veronica and sending them spiraling through the air. Fortunately, Veronica was quick to grab Summer by the sleeve and pull her into a tight embrace for the girl’s own safety. “Summer!? What the hell!? Why did you jump!?”

“Why were your eyes closed!?!?! I thought you had passed out or something. I was screaming your name!!” Summer yelled with tears in her eyes from the fear.

“Summer I can’t hear shit when wind is roaring through my ears! I was relaxing!”

“RELAXING!? YOU ARE FREE FALLING!!!!” Summer screamed. No doubt Veronica heard that.

“IT IS A LONG FALL, SUMMER! IT IS LITERAL HANG TIME!” Veronica yelled back. She finally noticed the tears coming from Summer. At first she thought it was because of the wind but they kept coming. “Are you crying right now!?”

“YES, DUMBASS! I THOUGHT YOU WERE FALLING TO YOUR DEATH!!!”

Veronica’s heart felt like it stopped for a moment. She had no response for that. Never in her wildest dreams did she expect Summer, anyone, to freak out over something like that. It was a little haunting. If she didn’t feel like a jerk before, Veronica definitely was feeling that way now, just a little. She looked over her shoulder to see Mantle buildings and ground coming in hot. Her arms fastened tightly around Summer’s upper and lower back. “Wrap your arms and legs around me, tightly!”

Summer did as she was told and felt Veronica’s hand press against the back of her head. What should’ve been several seconds before a splat became extended free falling. Summer went from seeing the sky, buildings, the pavement, and then minerals. Crushed sediments and pavement that were firmly placed within the dirt. Summer was experiencing seeing underground for the first time. “Woah…. you can do this all the time!? You see €€this all the time!? How deep are we?

“You are quite literally being impressed by things you can see with a shovel. Now flex your stomach and try not to get the wind knocked out of you.”

Once again, Summer listened and gave a pat on the back for confirmation. A weird feeling ran over her body. As if going down an elevator, then €€boom! That feeling became ten times worse. It was like a rollercoaster on the highest drop. But instead of going down, their bodies were being forced up. The world of minerals was left behind for streets once again. Their momentum kept going up until they came to a midair stop. Summer instinctively made a platform at their feet before they fell again.

Veronica finally let go and pulled Summer off of her body. “Well that’s one way to stop. I’ll admit, clever thinking.”

“What was your plan?”

“I would five back into the ground and back up. Each time would get less air then the last before eventually I would be like several inches from the ground, or I’d land on a roof on the way down. Simple stuff.” Veronica brushed off her outfit in an attempt to get the wrinkles out. The puffy eyes looked from Summer made her let out an auditable little laugh in disbelief. “Tsk, I cannot believe you actually cried.” She teased.

Summer squinted at Veronica before folding both arms and turning her head away dramatically. “I don’t see what’s so funny. Not in the slightest.”

“That’s because you have no sense of humor.”

“What’s humorous about a death like that? It’s terrible.”

Veronica shrugged casually. “Eh, there’s worse ways to go. But ummm thanks for checking, and stuff…” Veronica jumped off the glyph and onto a roof before Summer got any mushy ideas from a thank you. “The race is null in void. Move your butt. We have ground together since we made an emergency landing.”

“We’re skipping the fact you just showed me a little gratitude?” Summer teased. She couldn’t help it. The glare shot at her for it though reminded Summer that teasing a person she had to fight soon wasn’t a great plan. Unlike Valerie, Summer wasn’t gonna get any buffs or debuffs from it. “Hehehe….I’ll start moving my butt.”

“A wise decision.”

xxxx

“Alright, we’re here.” Weiss said, parking her car into the mostly empty school parking lot. “Nick, you have fifteen minutes to get what you need. Anymore and I’m coming in to drag you out myself.”

He laughed. “Can you at least send the gigas in? If you’re gonna be extra then go all the way.” He hopped out the car and ran inside.”

“Don’t tempt me!” Weiss shouted. She was not above embarrassing him like that. Not in the slightest.

Nick jogged his way down the halls. Benefit of the weekend, no crowded halls. Just him, the occasional faculty, and the sports team. Basketball, soccer, the usual suspects. However, the sight of favorite blue haired girl in an Atlesian military uniform and the kingdom’s flag had caught his attention. Seeing Eliza with her twin tails undone and in one regular ponytail was always so shocking to him. “Yo, Eliza!” He waved.

She looked at him briefly before doing a double take. “Nick? Aren’t you supposed to be in bed resting?”

If he had a nickel…. Nick walked up to her in disbelief. “Is everyone my mom today?” He joked. “I am fine. Just grabbing my assignments. Anyways, color guard practice today? Cool. Didn’t realize I wasn’t the only one doing double duty for the tournament; though I guess I’m technically doing triple.” The weight of that hit him a little. How’d he manage that!?

“Yeah, just for the opening ceremony. I’m the lead when it comes to the flags so hehe, all eyes on me.” It was hard not to hide her nerves about the whole thing. “In terms of weight, it’s not too different from my spear. The routine is almost solid.”

Nick could tell she said that more for her benefit than his. It was funny. Eliza wasn’t one to waver most of the time. Then again, this was her first time doing this and second time competing in this tournament. “Hey, you survived cameras on you before. You fought me last year without choking.”

“Yeah, and lost miserably.” Eliza would never forget that day. “Thanks for the reminder.” She said sarcastically.

“Shut up, you got third on your first major tournament. You couldn’t ask for a better debut against veterans like myself and Val. Oh, thanks for sticking around Vee by the way.”

“Don’t mention it. I did it more for me than you anyways.”

“Ouch. You’re so cruel to your work husband.”

Eliza’s face turned a little red. She pointed her finger at him and sparked it with magical electricity. “Never say that again.”

“Hahaha! I’m just teasing. I still appreciate the help. Anyways, I gotta go get my stuff and bail before my mom makes due on a not so empty threat. Bye!” He ran off past her towards his classrooms.”

“Council room” Eliza said, making Nick stop halfway down the hall. “All your work...I put it in the council room for you.” Even from a distance she could see Nick’s eyes light up. Did it really not take much to make this boy happy?

“Awww Eliza-” she pointed at him again with Fire this time. Nick thought it best to quit while he was ahead and continued walking. Although, he made a little mental note for later. “Hmmm, I wonder if Eliza would be good at candle training. Fire is fire after all. Magic or dust wise.” Nick continued pondering the idea. Magic has always been cool to Nick. The fact he actually knew a person could do it was especially cool. If he could trade being the heir for being the first person with magic in centuries, he might not think twice about it. Nick couldn’t help but fantasize about a life with lower expectations and no heavy title. “Vee is right. I should really talk to my uncle about this. Well, after the tournament, or maybe do it beforehand then soften the blow by winning gold? That would be good.” He turned a corner, failing to check for on comers. “Look at me, talking as if I don’t have to face-” Nick ran head onto Valerie hard and stumbled back.

His friend dropped a bunch of hockey sticks. Some of which hammering her toes. “Ow!” She screamed, her team hearing from several feet away. “Hey watch where you’re- Nick?”

“Hey Val…” He said nasally. The impact had him rubbing his nose gently as it turned red. “Tackling you must be a nightmare. You're like a wall of tanks.” His strange analogy was ignored entirely. He looked up at Valerie and saw nothing but shock and irritation as she pulled him close, real close.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were sick? I’m the one who told you to get rest? I didn’t know it was bad enough for you to be bed ridden.”

“I uhh well you see…” Focusing was hard enough from the crash. The literal inch between them made Nick feel unprepared. Though her face was upset, he still found beauty in it. Especially with the hint of care he saw her turquoise eyes. “You said you wanted space. So I thought I wouldn’t bother you.” He finally said, hesitantly. Valerie didn’t seem too happy with his response.

“Idiot.” Valerie said, “If it’s about your health then blow up my phone for all care!” She huffed. Valerie’s cheeks turned a little red. “Are we clear?” Nick didn’t respond back. His eyes avoided her gaze and he seemed uncomfortable. “Nick? You alright?”

He looked towards her, a little nervous. “Can I make it up to you? Since you were worried and all?”

“What are you-”

“Not as a date if that’s what you’re afraid of.” Nick reassured, “Clearly I upset you so let me fix it by taking you to your favorite dine in restaurant? These last couple days I…missed you okay?” He could feel his face turning red. Platonic or not, this sounded like a confession. And yet Valerie hadn’t let go of him yet. It might’ve been his imagination, but he could’ve sworn she had gotten redder.

Valerie could feel herself being apart mentally. Nick wasn’t one to lie, but enduring was what he did best. How often did he think about her while he was sick? Did she make his fever worse? Was not telling him more painful for him than it was her? Valerie didn’t know. Making sense of any of it wasn’t important. “Nick I-” her voice was cut off by the murmurs of the halls. Athletes and onlookers passed by with their whispers and giggles. They had once again made a spectacle out of nothing. Another thing for idiots to gossip about and spread their lies. Valerie couldn’t stand it. Her blood began to boil. It never failed. Nick had made life, her life, a little more about him and less about her. Valerie finally let go of him, pushing him away. “No, sorry.” She said, clearly irritated. “I still want my space; and we both know how you are. Date or not, you just can’t help yourself but pull out the red carpet act like if I need you when I don’t. It’s pretty…” Nick didn’t let her finish. He turned his back to her. It was only then Valerie realized just how much she was mouthing off. “Wait that came out wrong.” She double backed, “I…”

“You don’t get to do that.” Nick finally bit back, “Telling me I should’ve called and that you care, only to push me away at your convenience. Now you’re berating me? What is with you lately!?” His voice echoed through the hall. It was only then he paid attention to his peers who quickly moved along the moment he tried meeting their gaze. Suddenly, something clicked. “Are you...embarrassed by me?” He said, mid revelation.

“You’re causing a scene, Nick.” She muffled, unusually reserved. “Listen, I just think the tournament takes priority is all.” Valerie lies, unknowingly letting her pride get the better of her. “I’m not embarrassed by you, honest.”

“So why do you brush me off every time people are around huh? I’m not a mind reader. Just come out with it.” He got no answer. Just silence while Valerie’s eyes looked for people who might still be watching. Now he was really annoyed, and he wasn’t even sure if it was because of Valerie or himself for getting worked up in the first place. “You know what? Forget it. Have it your way. I’m too ill to argue.” He said dismissively. Nick walked away from the argument to get what he came for. He was on a time limit anyway.

Valerie watched her friend turn the corner, hurt by her words. Or maybe the lack of them. Valerie turned around to go back to practice and stopped after only one step, stunned by the sight of her mother carrying extra sports gear.

Nora let out an exhausted sigh then smiled, “Oh boy. Here I thought your biggest worry today would be run down knee pads.” She laughed awkwardly at her own ice breaker. “Wanna talk about it later.”

Valerie got closer. She took the gear from her mother and went towards the gym. “There’s nothing to talk about.”

Nora let Valerie get away. There will be time for questions later. Nora put her hands on her hips and shook her head. “Teenagers.”

xxxx

Neither twin was having the best mood right now. Summer could feel her heart beating out of her chest the deeper into the woods she went. Ever since the free fall, Veronica had gone silent. Any attempt at conversion was ignored. She just kept walking deeper and deeper until everything started to look the same to Summer. Thankfully no grimm had appeared, but if they kept walking aimlessly like this… “I think this far enough, Veronica.” Summer said. Veronica actually listened and stopped before turning around.

“Yeah, this’ll do nicely.” She reached into her pocket and pulled out the diamond dust while dropping her bag. “I say it’s about time we get this over with. Catch.” She tossed the vial of dust, underhanded.

Summer nearly panicked as she caught it midair. “What are you-don’t do that! This stuff is dangerous!” If her nerves weren’t shot before, they were now.

“The dangerous part is yet to come.” Veronica engaged Ember Celica and brought her fists up. She would’ve liked to remove the jacket, but a piece of her mind told her it was far wiser to keep the extra layer of warmth and protection. “Well?”

“Yeah, what are you waiting for?”Said the alluring lethal voice inside of Summer’s head, sending chills up her spine. This wasn’t the cold’s doing. No, this was fear. Pure unkempt adrenaline that made her stomach twisted into knots and body shiver. “She’s asking for it, so let her have it. Better her than fear sweet Nicholas, right?”

Summer couldn’t stop shaking in place. This wasn't the plan. Not like this so much could go wrong. Was she really to fight Shiva again? Did Veronica stand a chance? Just how much stronger would Shiva’s grip be by doing this. If they failed, if she wasn’t strong enough then…that might be it. This wasn’t just her own life at stake either. Summer already thought Veronica might’ve died today. If it was by her own hands…

Bile threatened to come up and out of throat. Summer couldn’t even see straight anymore. The trees spun around her and her balance felt off. The whole world seemed to crush her under her own weight and tears-

“Lesson learned.” Called out Veronica, bringing reality back to Summer. She hadn’t realized it through her panic attack, but Veronica had gotten remarkably close to her, looking right into her soul and placing a hand to rub Summer’s pale cheek. Summer was so overwhelmed she began stammering. “W-What a...are y-you-”

“This terrifying fear that’s crippling you; the absolute anxiety of knowing how potentially dangerous it would be to pull a stunt like this? Maybe remember it the next time you wanna drag Nick into one of your reckless training, kay?” Veronica took the Diamond Dust away from Summer and returned it to her pocket. “Okay, now for the real reason we’re here. We need things for your outfit and so on.”

Summer watched Veronica nonchalantly lift her bag and walk off again. She couldn’t be it. This entire was a set up. A guilt trip into thinking more about Nick’s safety, and it worked. The humiliation of it all. What’s worse was Summer felt...like she deserved it? Did Nick ever feel this, this fear? How many times did she want to train her control and he went along with it? Why did he go along with it!? Her body felt weak, exhausted. Summer stumbled back against a tree, sliding down until she sat in the snow on the verge of breaking down. “Stop.” She said, weak and afraid. “I need a minute, so please stop.”

Veronica looked back to see the state Summer was in. No longer was she fighting back tears. Summer openly wept as she hugged her knees tightly to try and stop the shaking. She wasn’t the only one feeling guilty.

“Damnit Veronica! I didn’t think it would scare her this bad or make her cry!”Veronica walked back to the fragile girl and sat next to her quietly. This was a complete disaster. Emotional vulnerability was never a thing Veronica was good at doing or dealing with. She took a chance and used her tail to wipe Summer’s wet face, gaining her attention. “I ummm, wasn’t trying to...a panic attack was not in my plans. You looked a little frantic at first but then you spiraled in the blink of an eye. I’m…” Veronica looked away, her ears folded in shame. “I fucked up. My bad. Nick told me to take it easy on you and here I am being worse than usual.”

Summer sniffled. She wasn’t exactly sure how to respond to being comforted. Especially by Veronica of all people. Still, it felt nice. Different from others. That’s for sure. “I’m sorry.”

That was out of left field. “What?” Said Veronica, turning back around. “Umm I don’t think you know how apologies work. I mean I barely do, but this isn’t right.”

“I said some things I didn’t mean about you yesterday. I was angry at myself and directed it to you. I may not know what bothers you but I know you probably have shit in your life going on too.”

“Yeah well...we’re famous. Problems come with the territory, and puberty.”

“Eh, can’t relate. High regen and pain tolerance. I don’t get cramps, or get sick. The only upside to getting blasted with dust no scientist can identify.”

“I probably shouldn’t envy you but maaaan, little jealous. Not gonna lie.”

The girls shared a small chuckle for what it was worth. Summer sniffled again and rubbed her eyes. “Ya know, we don’t really...talk, do we? Not since we were five. I’m sure there’s a lot of things we could learn.”

Veronica couldn’t suppress her unwilling groan. Bonding was not on her agenda. However, Veronica couldn’t help but think about Nick’s words and her promise to him. “Let’s make a truce? We have to spend time together. There’s no getting around it.”

“I’m painfully aware…” Summer moaned. “What’s the truce?”

Veronica stood up and reached for Summer’s hand, lifting her up as well. “I will do my damnedest to be less confrontational if you do as well. Also if you are willing to explain this whole Shiva business to me, then… I’ll explain my faunus business. I suppose.” Her tail instinctively wrapped around her waist for security. She could tell by Summer’s expression that she was definitely intrigued. It was warranted. Veronica didn’t speak much about it on purpose. Now she was offering it on a silver platter. “Well?” She said anxiously”

Summer retook Veronica’s hand and shook it. “Alright, truce.”

[chibi-mushroom]

Just as a heads up, I wanted to add a disclaimer. This story is not necessarily canon to my AU's canon. I'm a long way off from these two getting to interact and I still have some things to think through. I also need to decide if Namine's backstory is going to stay the same or if I'm changing it slightly. So please bear with me and enjoy!

It was a warmer morning in Skyhold and for once there hadn't been a lot of snow. Riku and Ava were checking the Inquisition's mail when he heard the smaller girl chuckling a little to herself. He didn't know that he liked the smirk that filled her face.

"Did you get a love letter or something?" Riku inquired.

"Not at all. In fact, I think Namine's going to have quite the headache when she sees it."

"What is it?"

"Oh just another letter from Lord Odin in Kirkwall."

Riku rolled his eyes. Usually Namine handled all of the correspondence between the Inquisition and the noble class. After all, she had a knack for working with nobles, despite coming from a poor Antivan trading family herself. Still, this was the third letter this month from the man. Lea never liked to talk about Kirkwall even though he was a viscount there. Surely Namine would have told him if Odin had been reporting trouble, wouldn't she?

"He's been writing a lot recently. Is everything ok in Kirkwall?"

"As terrible as it's always been." Ava shook her head. "Listen, I have a job for you to do today."

"A job? But I promised Sora and Ephemer we'd-"

Suddenly Riku felt a very sharp point at his neck. He knew without looking that Ava had unleashed one of her daggers with the fancy waves on the hilt. She was good with a bow, but he had personally seen her be absolutely deadly with her daggers. The smirk that had been on her face once was now gone, but she still looked amused. He wondered what she looked like under that fox mask, and whether her eyes shone with good or ill intent.

"Ask Strelitzia to take you to the greenhouse and pick Namine a nice big bouquet of flowers." She instructed.

"You want me to…?"

The dagger pushed a little deeper into his throat. She hadn't broken skin yet, but the blade was really the only thing he could pay attention to.

"Pick the girl some flowers. I'm sure she would be grateful for them."

The bard removed her dagger and beamed at him. She was dangerous alright. He was relieved she was on their side, although there were days he had questioned even that. As she sauntered away with the letter from Lord Ordin, Riku rubbed the spot where the dagger had been just moments before. He felt a hand on his shoulder and turned to see none other than Sora himself.

"So, I guess we gotta take a rain check, huh little boss?"

"I told you to stop calling me that." Riku brushed the Qun's** hand off. "It's Riku."

"Force of habit. No more difficult to stop than Lea and his nicknames."

"I guess. So, what's going on with the ambassador? Ava certainly seems quite amused."

"Namine's got a letter from Lord Odin in Kirkwall. Again. So I'm supposed to go get flowers for her for some reason." Riku sighed. "You have a good idea about how women work; what's all this about?"

"Dunno, I'm not in on the war table conversations." Sora shook his head. "Hey, I've got an idea. I'll go visit Namine and see what's up. That way you can stop being shy and tell her how you feel."

Riku sputtered, trying to argue about the way he felt. They had gotten close, but it was out of a need, not a want, right? The sky was tearing apart and they still needed to find out about so many loose ends that hadn't been resolved yet. Besides, he had no idea how Namine even felt about him. It would make meetings at the war table much more awkward if he couldn't even look at the ambassador.

"I'll take your inability to speak as a yes then. Don't worry buddy, old Sora will figure out exactly what's going on with the woman of your dreams." Sora clapped him on the back.

Sora left behind a still sputtering Riku as he hurried over to the ambassador's door. Ava had just left and Sora took a moment to listen in at the door. He didn't know Namine as well as he probably should have; she was usually working on something at her desk while he was out with his chargers**. She seemed super sweet though, and harmless enough.

He did have to admit that his horns made it hard to actually get his ear to the door, but he managed to hear the faint sound of vellum being shredded while Namine muttered something. There was a movement. She must have been tossing the vellum into the trash. More steps- walking back no doubt. The room was silent now as far as he could tell, although knowing Namine, she was likely writing out some forced and overly polite response. It was how all nobles tended to write. He waited a moment and then knocked on the door.

"Come in." She replied.

"Hope I didn't catch you at a bad time or anything." Sora entered.

"No, just writing a response to a noble in Kirkwall. After that I have a few personal responses to send out. One of which is to my parents. They've been mailing me nonstop since your chargers swooped in and kidnapped my sister on her wedding day."

With a chuckle to himself, Sora crossed his arms over his chest. He recalled how Noctis had asked him for help to rescue his beloved Lunafreya from having to marry a man from some wealthy Antivan family. The chargers had been a little less….formal than they could have, running in while the ceremony was going. But the look of relief that crossed over the bride's face when she saw Noctis made it all worth it. They had even gotten a chantry** brother to marry them in a small but intimate ceremony a few days later.

"That's right; it was a lot of fun. Hard to believe it was only a couple of months ago." Sora smirked.

"No Sora, it wasn't fun. Swooping is bad."** Namine sighed. "It's been a headache just trying to reassure both sides that the other will come around eventually."

She paused.

"Although I'm happy for her. She smiles so much now, and I know that's because of Noctis and the other chargers."

"That's what we do. Brighten the world one smile at a time."

Namine held her tongue. Luna got off easy. Although her parents were fuming, her potential groom found someone to replace Luna rather quickly. The marriage was supposed to help the Montilyet family work their way back into being able to trade in Orlais again. If it hadn't been for that rival family… She breathed out a sigh. There was no way to turn back time. She just hoped when it came time for her own nuptials that she could avoid the worst.

Sora leaned in satisfaction on the table where she worked. Most of the tables here were quite sturdy- none as steady as the table closest to the commander's quarters, of course. But then, that table was hardly ever used for writing these days, it seemed. At least once he had heard some sort of magic being made between the templar commander and their apothecary- but he was just getting off on a tangent. Namine had eyed him as if to ask what he was there for.

"Why don't you give this Odin guy what he wants?" Sora asked, hoping to draw out what was in the letter and change the subject.

"Give him- Sora, this is politics. You can't just give people what they want at face value. There are usually strings attached. Things go wrong when you simply ask for what you want."

"Someone smuggling some ancient book out of Kirkwall again?"**

Namine tilted her head, unsure if she were supposed to understand what he was referring to. He waved off her confusion, looking over her desk. There, sitting on the top of a pile of papers was a letter written in very fine ink. There was a green wax seal on the envelope that held a picture of a lotus. The ink itself was also of a high quality. The letters didn't have an occasional blot from the way it came out of the pen. Someone had spent a lot of money on the supplies for this letter.

"Nevermind." Sora shook his head. "So, this one of your responses?"

One glance at the pile of papers told her exactly what he was referring to. She raced to cover them up, a slight blush on her face from embarrassment. He didn't need to know details of the Montilyet household. He had already learned of her parent's reaction to the scandal that was Luna's wedding. Seeing how everything happened there would likely cause extra precautions when it came her turn for matrimony. She was a caged bird with no hope of escape.

"Hey, sorry, I swear I was just trying to lighten the mood. I know you're frustrated about that Lord in Kirkwall." Sora softened his voice when he saw the way her face fell.

"If you must know, his name is Naveen. He lives in Tevinter and he's the son of a very prominent magister." Namine spoke just above a whisper.

"Is he helping the Inquisition?" Sora looked at her with a cocked eyebrow.

"Not….exactly." Namine responded.

She gripped the letter harder and her hands began to shake while she bit on her lower lip. It was just like her to ruin everything. Sora could likely understand everything now. It wasn't her place to tell about Naveen, and yet there they were. The Qun likely hadn't meant to see the letter, Namine hoped. Sora didn't seem to be the kind to snoop. Still, she hadn't told anyone about this yet and needed a chance to vent a little. The letters were coming more often and Naveen had been speaking more frankly of his heart in them. Whether that was sincere or flattery she had no idea. Namine quickly moved to the entrance. Before closing the solid door, she checked the hallway to see if anyone was coming.

"Hey, I didn't mean anything by it. Sorry, Namine." Sora pouted.

"No, please, it might be better this way." she wrung her hands together. "But anything we say can't leave this room."

"What's going on, Namine?"

"Promise me you won't laugh."

"On my honor as a Qunari"

Namine took a deep breath before sitting down and replacing the now crinkled up letter from Naveen. She wasn't looking at him, but instead at the hands she had neatly folded in her lap. Without realizing it, she was biting her lips again. Slowly, she looked up at Sora who was waiting patiently to hear what it was that she needed to get out of her system. Even if he couldn't tell Riku about the letter, he could at least assure his friend that Namine would be alright.

"Had you ever heard of the Montilyet family before you met me?"

"Well, not really, but I was also pretty busy doing jobs all over for the longest time." Sora shrugged. "Why?"

"Well, a long time ago, our family owned hundreds of naval ships. We protected merchants leaving and coming into Antivan waters. After a scandal, we lost nearly everything and had to settle being small scale Ferelden merchants. We get by, but I can tell my parents miss it." Namine explained. "Then when I was younger, I made some choices I'd rather not talk about before being invited to come join the inquisition."

"But…"

"But in all of this commotion trying to set my family up, I guess...I sort of lost who I am….and what I care for. Now there are important decisions to be made and I'm just expected to sit still and look pretty."

Sora nodded, understanding what it was she was trying to say. She continued on about how she had met Ava when she was younger and learned about the ways of the bard from her. Although Namine was slim on the details, she did mention how much of that training now helped her avoid having to pick up a weapon again. Still, all of that had come to naught, as she still had no leads as to where to find the contracts that would help regain their trade ability. There was a wistfulness that came from her voice; it wasn't about the trade at all, even though she hadn't said it straight out.

"I may not know what path will be best for you, but I do know this: you just keep on trying and you'll reach your goal."

"Do you really think so?" Namine asked.

"Of course!" Sora stood, placing a foot on the seat of his chair. "For the Inquisition!"

She looked at him with confusion. What on earth was he doing? Sora looked down at her in the hopes he could rally her to join him. When he looked down and saw that she didn't understand what he was doing, he held his hand out for her to pull him onto the chair next to him.

"For the Montilyets!"

He placed one foot from the chair to her table. She followed his lead and scrambled onto the table afterward. With more confidence, she repeated her own family name. There was something about Sora and his rallying cry that made her want to believe that she could restore the trade abilities before she would have to face her future.

"For Namine!" Sora raised a fist into the air.

She raised a fist as well, although she kept silent this time. A small smile played on her lips. Maybe there was hope after all. Odin would give up trying to marry off one of his daughters to Riku, and Namine would find a way for her family to trade again. There was hope, there was work to be done-

There were still papers covering her desk.

Subconsciously she had stepped back to get down from where she was standing. It was sort of silly how they were standing on the table, no matter how old and sturdy it might be. Besides, Sora never seemed to wear shirts, even into battle. Instead, he opted for the Qunari vitaar, which was a poison that was fatal if it touched anyone who hadn't been born into the Qun. He wasn't wearing any now, but Namine became aware of just how close they had been standing by the strong smell of the soap he applied to get it off afterward. He didn't want to risk Kairi touching it by accident.

It was the strangest thing. Somehow she felt like she had begun falling in slow motion. As she stepped back there had been a knock at the door. Something registered in her mind that someone had entered the room, and something dropped to the floor. She gave a yelp and closed her eyes, expecting to hit the floor.

But she never did.

Instead, the scent of firewood and smoke crossed her senses and she could feel a strong pair of arms around her, holding her up. She hadn't even fallen very far. When she opened her eyes, she saw the Inquisitor. Her cheeks went crimson and she looked back to Sora who was smirking like a cat.

"Did...I interrupt something?" Riku asked.

"No, not at all." Sora hopped off the table. He picked up the bouquet and turned around before taking a step out the door. "Saving these for anyone?"

"Actually, those are for Namine." Riku responded.

"Aww, what a kindly gesture. You'll have to let her go at some point if you want to give them to her. Unless you *wanted* to hold her this long. Here, I'll leave them here for you both to enjoy." Sora put them down and then headed down the hall a short distance so he could still hear what was happening.

Riku nearly dropped Namine upon hearing that, but after catching her again, he carefully let her down. She wasn't quite ready to stand on her own, so she placed a hand on his arm to steady herself.

So that was the result of so much violence. She thought, which caused her to only glow more red.

"H-here. Ava suggested I bring these over for you. They're from the greenhouse." Riku handed her the bouquet.

"Thank you. I-I'll have to send her my thanks as well."

There was silence for a moment.

"Is everything okay? Ava said you might get aggravated by that letter from Kirkwall." Riku inquired.

"Yeah, it was just another noble. With you being the leader of one of the most influential groups in Thedas**, it only makes sense that everyone wants you to marry their children, but I figured you'd want to focus on the rift for now."

He stared blankly at her as if he didn't quite understand what she had said. Namine looked away and bit her lip again. Maybe she should have just said something to him when she got the first letter. She had learned a lot from her past, but nothing like this was covered in her training. She wasn't sure if she even *should* be feeling anything in this particular moment.

"Namine I-"

Riku was interrupted when Kairi ran into the room, Sora attempting to stop her.

"I heard a scream. Is everything ok in here?"

"It's fine! Nothing going on!" Riku blushed.

"I was just trying to reach something and Riku caught my fall!"

Both spoke at the same time in a rushed voice that Kairi knew as being a lie, but with the way they were blushing and how Sora had been trying to stop her, she automatically understood what was going on to some extent. When she smirked the same way Sora had only a short time ago, the Inquisitor and the ambassador looked to realize that she hadn't let go of his arm since he put her down. Quickly they slid apart, blush laying heavily on their cheeks.

"Sure, sure." Kairi chuckled, now dragging Sora out of the room.

When they had closed the door behind them and walked a short way away, Kairi slipped her hand into Sora's.

"Let's sweeten the pot on our bet, shall we? An extra fifty gold goes to the winner if they get together before the empress's ball at the Winter Palace."

"My dear," Sora smiled as he squeezed her hand "I think you have a deal."

Okay, notes time!

So if you saw my picture for Sokai week, you'll have an idea of what Sora is supposed to look like. For those who haven't played Dragon Age, the Qun or Qunari is both a type of people who are born with horns on their heads (with a few very rare exceptions) and the religious lifestyle they lead. They're super interesting and I love learning about them.

Sora's chargers are his best friends/band of fighters. In this particular au it consists of Mulan, Noctis and the Chocobros.

The Chantry is the major church of the world, and it kind of controls the templars who keep the mages from letting demons possess them. Long story short, a lot of people have lost confidence in the Chantry in telling them the truth and doing the right thing.

For those of you who have played Dragon Age Origins, the 'swooping is bad' line should be very familiar to you. I laugh so hard at it with every playthrough that I was practically contractually obligated to include it.

Can't say too much about the book getting smuggled out of Kirkwall, as that goes into spoiler territory. But just know that the Qun tried asking for their book back and someone ended up dead. (in canon. Not sure what I'll be doing in the au yet, haha)

Thedas is the name for the world in Dragon Age.

[sonicringbond]

Sonic Ring Bond: The Journey - Scene 42

With character mindsets out of the way, it’s time to set the stage. Well, Blister’s mindset still needs to be set, but right now they have arrived at the peculiar city in the sky. What will they find there? Well, find out for yourself in...

    “Really, a creepy place like this would do a lot better with some ghosts,” Rosy teased as she jumped from Blister’s ship to the stretch of concrete and asphalt that they docked at, “then we could make a test of courage out of it!”

    “I’d rather not have more ghosts after the last time we met some,” Draw tried as per usual to put a damper on Rosy’s enthusiasm as he walked down the gangplank with Sonic and Blister. For his efforts Rosy stuck her tongue out at him.

    “You’re being no fun today,” Rosy teased her koala companion and he rolled his eyes.

    “Whatever, you weirdo girl.”

    “It’s Rosy!”

    There was a comfort that Rosy found in the exchange with Draw and she smiled brightly even in the dreary place. Sonic and Blister were both being more careful than Rosy was though.

    “Be careful while having fun,” Blister warned as she tested the weight of her backpack. “My instruments were acting weird as we approached. I couldn’t rely on them to dock at all.”

    “You were able to dock an airship on your own? That’s amazing!”

    “Well, I don’t really have any choice with a golem hunter on board,” Blister gave Draw a weary glance. “It’s not like I can use my autogolems if they just get broken for coming out.”

    “So, the Engineers do use autogolems too,” Rosy acknowledged thoughtfully, before switching gears and spinning over to place her hands on Draw’s shoulders. He gave her a look, but Rosy continued unbothered. “But I’m sure Draw wouldn’t break yours. Well, as long as they aren’t powered by fairies.”

    “Everything the Engineers make are powered by Rings or steam, so no exploiting any mythical creatures,” Blister assured Rosy, Draw, and the fairy in the group, Mote. “Besides, the way Preserver autogolems work is a total mystery. It doesn’t make sense how the energy of a living thing is converted into a kinetic energy.”

    “Sounds like the type of guys Eggman would get along with,” Sonic finally added his voice to conversation as he strolled off the gangplank and looked around.

    Rosy noticed Sonic was rubbing the underside of his nose with his pointer finger and wondered if he was sensing danger. She couldn’t leave him worried though and risked getting teased herself to lighten his mood. “Oh~, forget that mean old man. I’ve gotten over being embarrassed by you talking like that about us and want to hear more! Come on Sonic, say something romantic~♥”

    “Keep dreaming, kid,” Sonic winked at Rosy and made her puff up her cheeks as she knew exactly what he meant.

    “Ooh~! Why couldn’t you play along nicely this time now that I’m ready for you!”

    “Instead of play, perhaps we could get to work looking for a Ring Radio for my ship,” Blister suggested, walking away from her vessel. Sonic eyed her curiously and took up pace beside her.

    “I’m all for getting this over with, but I thought we were supposed to do the dangerous stuff while you stayed back on the ship?”

    “Don’t worry, I won’t slow you down.” Blister smiled at Sonic confidently. Her confidence did not last however as she lifted her left hand up and stared at it as she flexed the flat fingers of her clockwork arm. “Though I haven’t gone for a run myself since before I lost my arm. I hope I’m not too rusty.”

    “You don’t mean to say you can keep up with us, do you? Sonic asked having a hard time believing it. “There aren’t too many who can, and even out of those with my speed few who can match my pace.”

    “Just check your radio for a signal and I’m sure we’ll be fine. I think I might actually be excited for the first time in a while. A shame it’ll be best to split you flowers up for this little trip.”

    “Flowers?” Sonic asked while checking his wrist device. The detected signal on the device told Sonic all he needed to know, and he was distracted from his question. “Well, sure enough there is a signal here. And not one we recognize.”

    “I wonder if there’s anyone using it?” Rosy pressed her finger to her cheek and mused a moment. That moment was short lived and quickly followed up with her deciding to check as she worked her wrist device and cheerily called into it. “Hello~! Is there anyone home!”

    “You’re going to get us killed, you weirdo girl!” Draw snapped at Rosy.

    “Don’t say that!” Rosy chided him, but as her energy was spilt between her wrist device and him, she wasn’t overbearing. The lack of a response from her device though made her puff up her cheeks. “Phooey! I guess no one lives here either.”

    “Gotta admit, it’d be kind of hard too.”

    ~Sonic wasn’t wrong. For the first time since I had been exploring the lands under Yolk, there were no plants growing over everything. They had been at one point in time, but they had all withered and died, only a thick layer of yellowed leaves that lined the streets and building floors showing they had once lived. It was kind of creepy in a different way than the rest of the weird little city as well since leaves don’t usually last like this. They crumbled easily enough to the touch, but the wind left in our wakes as we ran through the twisted city streets didn’t seem to hurt them and they simply would settle back down were they had last been.

    ~The leaves weren’t the only creepy thing. Yolk seemed even bigger from the city than Blister’s airship, and no matter where I ran it seemed to watch me from behind the clouds just above the horizon. And the storm clouds didn’t bring rain and thunder, but rather a snow of ash. I’m starting to think this place might be cursed. At the very least, it’s weird and unnatural.

    ~How unnatural? I wanted to check the size of the city when we first set out, so I ran a lap all the way around it with Draw clinging to my back and the location of the horizon never changed. And I came back around from what should have been the city’s underside. It’s not right here. It really isn’t.~

    “What now,” Draw asked as Rosy stopped atop a skyscraper that tilted a full thirty degrees off its axis.

    Watching the storm clouds and the ash that fell silently from them, Rosy puffed up her cheeks and exhaled sharply from her nose. “This place is way to dreary to be any fun. So how about we see if we can’t find any beneath the surface. Does that sound good, Sonic?”

    -Just keep your radio channel open,- Sonic’s voice came across Rosy’s wrist device. -This place is a lot larger than it looks. Like several places are trying to fit in one spot and not pulling it off.-

    -I’ve also seen signs of golem activity,- Blister’s voice came across after Sonic’s. -Probably more than enough for our little hunter to earn his keep.-

    “Don’t talk like that about me!” Draw complained from Rosy’s back. “I’m not a kid!”

    -Yet you were clinging to Ms. Rose’s back when we agreed to split up…-

    “That’s because it’s the easiest way to not lose her.”

    “I’m not that bad,” Rosy laughed, but she smiled brighter as she looked down at the decayed city that awaited her challenge. “But at least it sounds like this adventure is going to be exciting!”

Scene 42 · CLEARED Snowflake, to be continued

-----

On the shorter side, but now the exposition is done and it’s time to start elevating the series of events. A Ring Radio is here, and it’s on, but why? And Golems here as well. Mysteries, mysteries. If I do this right, this set of “episodes” will be some of my most important at this stage of the story yet. I hope everyone is as excited for them as I am!

-----

Special Thanks to Cutegirlmayra Story by @JoshTarwater/SonicFanJ Inspiring Song – Lost in the Snow – Yoshitaka Suzuki – FINAL FANTASY XV Original Soundtrack (Volume 2【1/2】)

Fair Use Disclaimer

Sonic the Hedgehog and all affiliated characters and logos are the express property and Copyright© of SEGA SAMMY HOLDINGS used without permission under Title 17 U.S.C Section 107 of the Copyright Act 1976 in which allowance is made for “fair use” for purposes such as criticism, comment, news reporting, teaching, scholarship, and research. “Fair use” is use permitted by copyright statute that might otherwise be considered copyright infringement. The Sonic Ring Bond: The Journey alternate universe (AU) consumer written work of fiction is a non-profit transformative work primarily for personal use and can and will be taken down without warning or prior notice at the request of the copyright holder(s) should it not be recognized under “fair use”.

*Sonic Ring Bond logo created by DEE Art – twitter.com/daryliscute.

Sonic Ring Bond AU and Sonic Ring Bond: The Journey are the creation of Joshua David Tarwater/ynymbus/sonicfanj/@Joshtarwater and is to be, including all contents herein considered for all legal purposes the property of the Sonic the Hedgehog intellectual property (IP) and copyright owners, SEGA SAMMY HOLDINGS. All story contributors via prompt, suggestion, written scene, art, and all and every other contribution acknowledge that all contributed material is forfeit for legal purposes to SEGA SAMMY HOLDINGS upon official request from SEGA SAMMY HOLDINGS.

[legolaslovely]

Princess

For @dashesofink who gifted me this most lovely story last Fili Friday. I hope you enjoy yours, friend! 

“I love thee with the breath, smiles, tears, of all my life.” -Elizabeth Barrett Browning

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Kili stood at the gate of the mountain between his brother and his uncle, but he was in no way still. He swayed from foot to foot and tied his hands behind his back so no one would see his fingers fiddling and fidgeting. His bottom lip was starting to show gnaw marks in the pink skin. He knew she’d be here any minute.

Thorin had arranged Kili’s marriage to a foreign princess months ago, and after weeks of waiting and wondering, today was the day her long journey ended with her in Erebor where she’d spend the rest of her life by Kili’s side. But only if everything went well and he didn’t screw it up, which he probably would.

“Kili. Just relax,” Thorin said without turning to him. “You’ll wear yourself out with all this distressing.”

Kili sighed, forcing his body still though he allowed his nails to click together behind his back. All three of them eyed the crest of the hill in the distance, waiting for the pack of wolves carrying their elite dwarven riders.

Fili leaned to his younger brother’s ear. “There’s nothing for you to worry about. It’s not like you know nothing about her, you’ve been exchanging letters for months now. We know she’s kind, intelligent and rather beautiful from Dain’s word. There’s no reason to fret.”

“Yes, there is,” Kili mumbled.

“What?”

“What if she doesn’t… I’m going to screw this up. She’ll call the entire arrangement off, the alliance will be ruined, and our lives as well. Or worse, she’ll be stuck in a- a loveless or… or-what if she’s unhappy with me?”

“Kili, you are adored by every dwarf in this kingdom. You will make her happy,” Fili said.

Kili swallowed and tried to keep his feet still. This was all very easy for Fili to say, he wasn’t the one meeting his intended for the first time in front of every elder in Erebor. He rocked on his heels, staring at the ground beneath him. He’d rather be the pebble under his foot than be in the position he was in right now. He shoved his hands in the pockets of his robes and heard a piece of paper tear.

He turned and walked to the doorway of the mountain, taking a moment for himself. He had forgotten he’d kept the latest letter from her in his pocket. It was perfectly folded, but he winced when he saw he’d torn it in his frustration. He unfolded the bottom, smiling a bit at the prefect handwriting done in purple ink.

See you soon, my friend.

Yours, (Y/N)

He rolled a finger over her name and thought back to this brother’s words. Kili already knew every wonderful trait his intended possessed. In fact, Kili already knew he was in love with her. His worries revolved around the question of whether his feelings would be returned.

“Kili. Here they come, brother,” Fili said to him.

He folded the letter and placed it in his pocket with care, joining his family once again to greet the new comers. His heart pounded as a row of large powerful wolves ascended the crest of the hill and stalked through the field to them.

“King Rava is in the center,” Thorin said. “And to his right is Princess (Y/N) on the white wolf.”

Kili’s fidgeting finally ceased when he set eyes on her. Even from afar, he could tell she was far more beautiful than Dain had said. A crown of silver was speckled with purple jewels and resting perfectly on her dark hair that blew in the wind that whipped around the mountain. She wore a matching dress of deep violet with silver trimming that sparkled in the sun, along with her bright blue eyes. As she rode closer, she smiled at him and he felt his chest tighten.

The procession stopped before the gates. As Thorin greeted King Rava, Kili met Princess (Y/N) at the side of her snow white wolf and held a hand out to help her down. She took it, allowing her small fingers to be completely enveloped in his, and slid down to the ground.

“Hello, Prince Kili,” she said, allowing her small smile to transform into a grin that made the skin at the outer edges of her eyes crinkle with joy.

He bowed slightly, never taking his eyes from hers and kissed her knuckles before letting her hand free. “Princess (Y/N). Will you allow me to lead you inside? We have refreshment for all of you. I know it was a long journey.” The words tumbled from his mouth just as he practiced over and over as he waited for her. It was what he was supposed to say.

She wrapped her hand through his outstretched arm. “Of course.” Before she took a step, her wolf whimpered and nosed her shoulder hard. (Y/N) spun and ruffed the fur between its ears, laughing. “You have to share me now, Faolán,” she said to the wolf.

“Faolán means Little Wolf, correct? I’ve heard a lot about you, Faolán,” Kili said, holding his hand out for the wolf to sniff. A grin broke out on his face when it nudged him to pet its nose. “She’s beautiful.”

“I’m so delighted to hear you say that. Dwarfs from other kingdoms don’t take kindly to our wolves, but they’re beautiful creatures. And gentle as long as they’re treated well. Oh, she likes you,” (Y/N) said.

“Your wolves will always have a home here.”

She let him lead her into the mountain and he wondered what she thought of him. Then one thought yanked him from his others. He needed to say something to her. It would be a long walk to the great hall if it was spent in silence.

“How-how was your journey?” he asked.

“Pleasant.” Her voice sounded like a bird’s song compared to his nervous squawking. “The weather stayed in our favor throughout the voyage.”

“You’ll enjoy the weather here. That’s if you sta- well, while you’re here, during your-your stay,” he cursed himself for his constant stammering. “It almost never rains in Erebor. Unless you enjoy the rain, then you may not…it might not be-”

“I don’t mind the rain, but I do enjoy the sun, which I know you have a lot of here at the Lonely Mountain. And I’m told it snows quite often?”

“Yes.” His stomach sunk. If she was anything like most dams he knew in Erebor, the constant winter storms would send her away.

“I’m very excited to see it,” she said, chuckling as his head whipped to her. “I think I’ll love the snow. I’ve only seen it once or twice before it turned into ice. Ice storms can be beautiful, but it’s not the same as a blanket of fluffy, white snow. Is it gorgeous when you look out your window to see the meadow covered in it?”

He slowed his pace and looked at her sparkling eyes. “Yes. It is.” His nerves dissipated with every moment he spent with her.

He spent the meal watching her. She had an easy smile that was always in her features in some way. She was quiet, but spoke easily when conversation came to her. Her laugh soared across the room to his welcoming ears, making him smile himself. She was infectious in the best way. He barely ate and only looked from her when her father asked him polite questions or Thorin needed his attention.

When supper ended, he circled the table to her chair, taking her hand and asking her, “Will you take a walk with me?”

She nodded, taking his arm and leave of her father. They strolled until Kili brought her to the gardens, letting her sit next to him on a stone bench. His eyes fell to his hands as he took a breath. “Princess-”

“Oh, Kili. I am (Y/N) to you,” she said with a smile, tilting her head down until she caught his eye.

“(Y/N). I know we barely know each other.” He’d intended to keep speaking but he was momentarily lost in her shining blue eyes and his thoughts flew from him.

Saving him, she spoke. “I don’t think that’s true. I feel I know you very well from our letters.”

He almost groaned. “I am not very eloquent.”

“But you are expressive. I’ve very much enjoyed your stories. I’ve kept all of them and even brought them with me… should I not go back home.”

“That is what I wish to speak with you about. I know our- our marriage is planned, but I want you to know that you’re not being forced into anything. I won’t allow it. If you don’t feel comfortable or if you want to go home, or if-if there’s someone else… know you have the right to make up your own mind.”

She nodded. At length she said, “What do you want?”

His harsh brows lifted, giving him a younger, softer countenance. This was the last thing he thought she’d ask. He dug into his pocket, twirling his find in his fingers. “Well, I know that my thoughts of you revolve around more than an alliance between the kingdoms or carrying on my name. And I know that my feelings for you have only grown in our months of conversing, and especially since meeting you today. I know my feelings for you are true, (Y/N), and if you feel the same, or think you could ever feel the same, I hope you’ll take this.” He held a purple courting bead in his hand for her to see.

He watched her lips dance. Her features showed surprise, then concern, then excitement and happiness. She blinked and a tear dropped from her lashes onto her skirts. Then she gathered herself and spoke. “You got the color right,” she said.

“I guessed from the ink in your letters.”

“Kili, I have fallen for you through those letters. Your words just now have confirmed that my impressions of you are true- you are a good, kind, and loyal dwarf that I look forward to getting to know inside and out if we go through with this. I know I wish to. And I know I want you to braid that beautiful courting bead into my hair.”

She moved his hair from his eyes and ran her fingers down his cheek. Then she turned, allowing him to take out her meaningless braids and replace them with a new one that meant the world to both of them. He chuckled as she shivered at his touch and he pulled her shoulders back to let her lean on his chest as he twisted the strands together in a braid saved for the high dwarfs of Erebor.

When he was finished, she turned, grinning at him. She kissed him lightly on the lips, like she wasn’t sure if she was allowed to or if he even wanted her to. But Kili returned it, keeping her lips tenderly knitted with his for another moment. Then he drew away, placing another kiss on her hair before resting his forehead against hers.

“Now, when can I meet this brother of yours? The one I’ve heard so much about?”

“Right now. When you’re ready, we’ll go inside and tell them all the news.” He smiled to himself hard, feeling like the corners of his mouth could touch his ears. “You’ve made me very happy, (Y/N).”

“And you, me.”

[bae-leth]

IT DIDN'T SUBMIT ITS BEEN SITTING ON THIS EXPIRED PAGE FOR TWELVE HOURS IM GOING TO TH

woooooo sylvelix time :3 i LOVE writing fluffy things like this

rainy escapades

During winters in Faerghus, rainy days were rare.

While most found them a hassle—it made the already muddy soil even muddier, and it didn’t look as pretty as snow—Sylvain believed they were blessings straight from the goddess.

Not only did water falling from the sky give him an excuse to stay inside, it also let him remain cozily in bed until breakfast.

Even better, that meant Felix also had to stay. Since his beloved training grounds were ruined, he couldn’t leave at dawn like he always did to practice his swordsmanship.

Sylvain woke to the gentle pattering of rain on the roof, and he grinned to himself as he stretched in his warm covers. Despite the chill of the wintry air, he didn’t feel very cold. He couldn’t feel cold, not with two cozy blankets draped over him. One of these blankets was Felix, who was positively unconscious as he lay asleep on Sylvain’s chest.

Felix didn’t snore. He didn’t move much when he slept, either. As Professor Hanneman had once told them, “opposites attract;” if Felix hadn’t been lying on top of him, Sylvain would probably be underneath the bed when he woke up, somehow. He tossed and turned like half a worm.

This, of course, was not the only matter that made Felix and Sylvain polar opposites. Sylvain loved to flirt, even with Felix on his arm—his partner, however, kept only to himself, if he did not keep to Sylvain. Felix also didn’t like getting cuddly in public, which was one of Sylvain’s favorite pastimes.

Today, there was no going into public, at least while it was raining so heavily. The nearby village Sylvain had often cantered off to in pursuit of ladies was many a mile away. Sylvain slipped his arms under Felix’s and hugged him absentmindedly, closing his eyes.

Then, his head was knocked upwards and the bridge of his nose hit the headboard as Felix jerked awake, the top of his head having just collided with Sylvain’s chin.

“Ow!” Sylvain cried, clutching his nose, and Felix looked around, dazed. He was also a light sleeper, unlike Sylvain, so his partner’s embrace must have shocked him awake.

“Huh…? What...Sylvain! What happened?”

“You nearly sent me to the healers’ tent is what happened,” Sylvain grumbled, and he squinted through heavy eyelids to see Felix rubbing his amber eyes as he sat up, his sleepwear loose on his lithe frame. Sylvain couldn’t look at him without proper clothing for too long, or else he would start to feel silly.

Felix’s tired gaze landed on Sylvain’s face, and he gasped and whispered, “What did I do?” 

“I hugged you, and then you decided to break my nose,” Sylvain replied through his palm. His nose was fine, but Felix didn’t know that.

Felix’s eyes widened with horror, and he slipped his fingers between Sylvain’s, pulling his hand away. “Oh, curse me…!”

Sylvain knew that whenever Felix said this, it meant he was immediately blaming himself for something that had happened.

“Okay, you didn’t actually break it,” Sylvain told him quickly, shaking his head. “I was just messing around. But it did hurt. Not that that matters.”

Felix sat up, and his concerned expression turned into an annoyed glare.

“Don’t pull that stuff with me this early in the morning,” he muttered.

“I can’t breathe!” spluttered Sylvain.

“What did I just say?”

“You’re sitting on top of me!” Felix flinched and scrambled off of Sylvain’s chest, and he hid his face in humiliation as his partner coughed and gasped, catching his breath.

Sylvain sat up a little when his lungs were once again functioning as they should, his back leaning against his pillows, and he saw Felix turn to look out the window. The dark-haired young man cursed when he saw it was pouring.

When he was nervous, Felix went to the training grounds. Now, he had nowhere to go. Though, the way Sylvain saw it, he didn’t have a reason to be nervous, either. It was simply an accident, and those happened every day.

Felix blamed himself for small things, when there were no big things to blame himself for. Thus, reassurance was something he desired often.

“It’s pouring out,” Felix murmured, half to himself. From the way he sat half-facing the window, Sylvain only had a limited view of him; but this was enough. The sleek navy hair that fell to Felix’s shoulders shone in the dim morning light, like a sheet of dark steel, and his lustrous amber eyes glistened like troubled suns. He was too beautiful.

“Yep, and that means you’re stuck here with me!” Sylvain wrapped his arms around Felix’s waist and pulled his partner against him, and Felix gasped and tried to wriggle away before falling prey to Sylvain’s affectionate kisses.

Before long, Felix relented, and Sylvain laughed and smiled into his lips, letting his fingers run through his partner’s dark hair. When they parted, Felix was blushing, and failing to suppress his own smile.

“I love you,” Sylvain told him softly, and Felix tried to look indifferent. But his flushed cheeks were giving him away, and he pulled the collar of his shirt over his face to save what was left of his dignity. Sylvain snickered and kissed the top of his head.

“Want to stay in bed with me until breakfast?”

Felix, thoroughly embarrassed, nodded. Sylvain tucked himself back into the blankets, watching his partner with interest and affection.

“Stop looking at me!” Felix protested, and Sylvain grinned again before leaping at his partner like a spring loaded trap. Felix gave an uncharacteristic yelp and tumbled into the blankets in Sylvain’s arms, unable to break free.

Felix was faster, and Sylvain was stronger. But today, in their cozy heap of blankets and pillows, Felix lost the ensuing wrestling match. 

Sylvain stared at the ceiling as he lay on his back, with Felix wrapped up helplessly in his arms like a fly in spider’s silk.

“You know, if you won’t cooperate, I’m going to have to punish you.”

Felix lifted his head, resting his chin on Sylvain’s collarbone. “How so?”

“I’m going to breakfast without you.”

Felix gasped dramatically. “Oh, woe is me! To think! My lover hath abandoned me for a boiled egg!” Sylvain burst out laughing.

“I’m your lover? I’m honored.”

“Do you prefer ‘candy-sweet?’”

Sylvain blinked in surprise; Felix never liked pet names. “Oh, totally.”

Felix replied, “That’s too bad.”

Sylvain frowned, and Felix stretched his neck and pecked his partner’s cheek. “I might call you that someday. But not right now, because you’re suffocating me.”

“Oh.” Sylvain let go, and Felix sat up, rubbing his sternum with the heel of his palm. “Uh...sorry.”

Felix stretched, his arms over his head as he yawned. The hem of his shirt lifted over his navel when he did this, and Sylvain looked pointedly away, blushing. He winced when he heard a plop, which had came from Felix leaning slowly backwards and falling against his pillow, his legs flung into the air for an instant before landing back in the blankets.

Sylvain crossed his legs when he sat upright, and Felix was staring at the ceiling with his hands folded over his middle. Smiling, his partner crawled over to him and lay down at his side, letting his cheek brush against Felix’s.

“When is breakfast?” Felix asked after a while. Sylvain wrinkled his nose as he thought. The sun was rising now in the gray sky, and the incessant downpour outside had become a soft drizzle. This meant that they couldn’t stay here forever.

Sylvain’s heart sank. He wanted to lay in bed with Felix beside him for the rest of his life. But they both had duties, duties that could not be ignored—at least, not forever.

“Well, breakfast is now,” the ruddy-haired young man replied, to Felix’s horror, “but I’m sure we can stay here a little longer.”

Felix nodded without a word, and Sylvain felt his partner’s little finger twine around his own. When Sylvain looked, Felix was blushing faintly.

Sylvain couldn’t wipe his smile off his face, even when Felix told him to.

  ((hehehghgh i love their dynamic))

SORRY FOR THE WAIT IF YOU WAITED

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notes from bae: AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA THIS IS SO SWEEEEEEET

[literarydumpinggrounds]

Secret’s Out: Part 3/?

Pairing: Draco Malfoy/Slytherin!Reader

Word Count: 3,090

Warnings: hints of mild angst? flirting?

Summary: Pansy Parkinson can’t seem to keep her mouth shut, and Slytherin!Reader is out for blood. However, some things aren’t always as sour as they seem.

Notes: I admittedly had a bit of trouble with getting this one to a place I was happy with. It seemed to go in a direction of its own! So, as usual, enjoy! :)

Draco had an advantage when it came to potioneering, due to the amount of time he’d spent under the protective wing of Severus Snape since the Triwizard Tournament. He’d spent far too long with the raven-haired professor drilling defense and procedure into his memory to be a stranger to the complexity of laborious potions. Amortentia was merely tedious work compared to the things Snape had taught him, and it was amusing that Slughorn made it seem so severely difficult. From the moment he was born, his entire life proved to be a never ending lesson on how he was expected to be. He was expected to be the embodiment of perfection, whether in appearance or execution, to have an undying, unconditional loyalty to his bloodline, and to never underestimate the power to be found within pride. His father was the first person to set his expectations of life; never expect praise, even if its rightfully earned; never beg, or apologize, or show weakness. Lucius never taught him how to deal with emotion, however, and that was the exact predicament he was struggling withㅡ an emotion so foreign that he couldn’t even begin to decipher it. 

Once he’d finished his brew with the required attentiveness, he watched as it began to glitter and glow. The entire elixir turned a brilliant shade of carmine, underlying tones of fuchsia and mulberry dancing amongst the shimmer as spirals of entrancing pearlescent steam ascended from the bubbling cauldron. Draco was quite clever when it came to many things, but he could admit that even this was impressive. The scent from the cauldron engulfed him in a warm security that he couldn’t recall ever feeling prior to that moment, and despite its soothing nature, it set him on edge. The bitter floral notes of Daisyroot Draught mingled with the earthy tones of the soil after heavy rain, and embraced the refreshing scent of sweet strawberries. He was ripped from his daze as Professor Slughorn let out an obnoxious squawk of surprise, forcing Draco’s crystal orbs to settle onto you. 

“Merlin’s beard, Miss Y/L/N! I believe you’ve done it!” 

Draco was accustomed to his achievements going unacknowledged when it came to Hogwarts, or anywhere for that matter, so it came as no surprise when Slughorn’s praise fell only onto you. He was used to Hermione Granger or Harry Potter soaking up praise for their successes, so he found your moment in the limelight to be refreshing. He smiled vaguely to himself as the surprise in your expression melted into that of appreciative pride, only to wipe it from his face altogether as Pansy’s voice cut through the silence. He was immediately overtaken by the familiar burn of irritation, his hands curled into fists as they gripped the fabric of his robes. It'd been there a while now, this anger, escaping when he least expected it. He was angry at everyone from strangers to his peers, hell, he would find himself angry if his sandwich wasn't quite right. Draco was under immense pressureㅡ a perpetual state of fear ㅡwith nobody he could confide in, and the truth was, he desperately needed positive change. There was more going into his mind and body than he could handle, and he could feel himself slipping away from who he thought he was each time he did something to please the Dark Lord. 

Before he could even stop the words, his brow had creased in annoyance, and he’d told Pansy offㅡ completely ignoring the questioning looks he received from Crabbe and Goyle as he returned his gaze on you. 

And just as fast as the anger was there, it dissipated as your eyes met his; a hint of that previous warmth spreading through his chest, forcing him to look away. 

Say something, idiot. Do something! 

ㅡ

You’d received several various gifts from an anonymous source throughout the next few weeks, and you’d managed to keep it hidden from your roommates. However, today’s theme started before you’d even managed to get out of bed. Vixen had discovered a bountiful bouquet of red roses at the door, and woke you with an absolute frenzy after reading the attached piece of parchment.

“What’s in a name? That which we call a rose, by any other name would smell as sweet.” Vixen stood at the center of the room, making an absolute show out of reading the message scrawled within the parchment. She stretched it between her perfectly manicured fingertips before shifting her weight to one side, eyes flitting up to you inquisitively before she continued, her tone full of amusement. “Red roses are meant to signify beauty and perfection. I hope they’re to your liking, darling.” she spat the last word incredulously, slapping you with the note a couple times to emphasize the incoming climax of the message. You had been sitting at the end of the bed in mild dismay, demanding that she stopped hitting you as you pushed yourself onto your feet, rubbing your temples. 

“Signed, DM!” she squawked. 

Signed who? 

Your eyes grew wide as your mind was sent head first into a surging perplexity, your feet beginning to carry you across the floor. Everyone was making the trip to Hogsmeade today, and you’d been grateful for it until this strange turn of events presented you with an issue far more severe than your difficulty with Herbology. Since Draco had sent you that charmed note, you’d been waking each morning to a new gift at the door of your room; always with some charming sentiment, but never once with a signature. 

“How could you not tell me about this little rendezvous with Malfoy!” Vixen stipulated, her arms crossed over her chest as she stood dumbfounded at the foot of the bed, earning a bark of a laugh from you.

She’d been silently observing you with an indescribable calm, no doubt trying to read your mind as it raced a thousand miles a minute. “It’s hardly a rendezvous if one of the members involved doesn’t even know it’s happening! They’ve been coming in for nearly two weeks, but they’ve never been signed.” you insisted with a gesture of your hand, plopping yourself down onto your unmade bed. “It makes perfect sense now.” 

Vixen’s emerald eyes blazed with mischief as she crossed her arms over her chest. Clearly displaying her amusement with a determined arch of her brow, and a simple truth.  

 “You’ve got to confront him, Y/N.”

ㅡ

Hogsmeade was a maze of winding streets, as complex as the heart. The streets were the veins, paved with elaborate cobblestone that had seen a million footsteps, and the people were the blood. You knew every crooked road and alleyway better than the spells and techniques you learned daily, though perhaps not more vivid than the smells that accompanied it; an elaborate mingling of aged parchment, chimney soot, baked goods and sweets, and the warm bitterness of the saloon. 

You’d always felt that Hogsmeade was what a village became when there was no city planning, replaced with a great enthusiasm for jovial experience and tradition. Every building was different, borrowing this and that from another era. It made the place as comforting as a beloved quilt, every patch unique and as eye catching as the one before. Every red was the exact same one, a brilliant cherry scarlet. Every blue was a bright royal hue, neither dark or light. The street lamps were the same canary yellow as the store lights, but it was more than that. The street was free of litter, and the walls were aged perfection. It was whimsical and welcoming, and it was exactly what you needed after the last few weeks. 

You followed alongside Vixen as she weaseled information on Ernie Macmillan’s current relationship status from a few Hufflepuff girls on your trek to the Three Broomsticks. The clouds covered the sun in pillowy wisps, revealing the approaching infliction of more snow. You were appreciating the atmosphere of the village, trailing along with leisure when your eyes caught a glimpse of a familiar face inside of the Honeydukes Sweet Shop, causing your feet to still. 

The encouraging words that your roommate had uttered mere hours earlier ran through your mind, burning every atom like fiery footprints as it came and went. Making up your mind, you watched him discreetly through the window, dressed in his lovely black clothing, his coat undone to accommodate for the heat inside, not a hair out of place. 

However, reality faded back into view as Vixen’s questioning voice called out to you, your decisive gaze settling onto the celadon door. 

“I’llㅡ I’ll catch up with you, okay? Our usual booth.” 

Without waiting for a response, you wandered into the shop, welcoming the pleasant warmth as it soothed your chilled skin. The enthusiastic chatter inside was no different than that on the street, but the scent of sugar and spice was much stronger. Among the shelves upon shelves of the most succulent-looking sweets imaginable stood Draco, clashing drastically from the vibrant aesthetic of the shop in his solid black attire. 

He was the kind of guy that girls fantasized about, his effortless elegance and charm giving him the advantage over most. And though you were never one to follow the crowd, you'd admittedly fallen victim to those blue eyes long ago.

You watched him from across the crowded room, swallowing the nauseating nerves that you’d been fighting with for the past few hours as you took note of his thoughtful expression. He always seemed to be lost in thought these days, in the room but a million miles away. You wondered if he knew how exhausted he looked when he thought nobody was looking, when he let his guard down. He wasn’t particularly special looking to some, but he’d always found a way to stand out, especially as of late. There was something about Draco, that apparent confidence and inflated ego, that had girls muddling their words and blushing uncontrollably whenever he was around. 

Outside it began to flurry, the large flakes invading steady and soft, falling from a sky of white velvet to mask the earth. They came together, and though you knew that you would have to journey through it to get to the Three Broomsticks later, you enjoyed the beauty of it for a moment. It was when you returned your gaze to the blonde that he saw you, a light illuminating his prior melancholy expression into something far more pleasant, his eyes sparkling as he flashed a brilliant smile.  

Over the years, it seemed that distance was no match for attraction when it came to Draco. You could be at opposite ends of the earth, and there would still be a gravitational force pulling you together. Something about the two of you simply matched, unspoken but very clearly felt, and you hardly knew one another. 

You couldn’t help but grow fond of his smile, something so rarely seen anymore, and hardly genuine when one did. It was days like this that you wondered if your mind was an engine or an exhaust, wondered if you were really the master of your individual thoughts, or if they were the result of deep thinking that you were only loosely aware ofㅡ like someone else was deciding for you. You often wondered if he ever felt that way.

A surge of confidence took hold of you, and you proceed to strut over to him despite the racing of your heart. “Funny,” you grinned, tracing your fingertips over the display that he stood on the opposite side of, your eyes never leaving his. “I never took you for a sugar quill kind of guy.” 

“No?” he chuckled softly. “What kind of guy do you take me for then, Y/L/N?” 

He looked down at the quill in his hand before settling it back into place, looking back up to you with a playful glimmer in his eyes. You teetered your head from side to side as you leisurely moved around to the other side of the display, as if contemplating the answer with great attention; a dramatized expression of deep thought settled on your features before you shrugged, twirling a violet quill between your fingertips as you looked back up to meet his gaze with a raised brow. 

“The kind of guy to leave miscellaneous gifts at my doorstep.” you proposed confidently, a triumphant smirk tugging at the corners of your lips as a broad smile spread over his features, his head hanging in defeat. “In that case, I should probably tell you; I prefer daisies.” 

The both of you bubbled at your comment, the air seeming to grow lighter as your amusement simmered down into mild snickering.

 “I’ll keep that in mind.” 

ㅡ

It had been nearly half an hour since the both of you had settled into the window-seat to watch the chat and watch the snow, and Draco seemed more relaxed than you’d ever seen him. In that proximity you caught a whiff of him, that timeless scent of Lania aftershave that most wizards associated with their elders, somehow brought back to life on his skin; the bitter spice a familiar wave of warmth through your chest. 

Falling in love seemed effortless in that moment, like the only thing that would ever matter was the two of you, eating sweeties in a window-seat as you watched the flurry intensify into heavy snow.

It was juvenile, inexcusably naive, and dangerously addictive, but being with Draco was like entering a house, and finally realizing you were home. When he smiled, it was like a blanket of security holding you close, making you feel safe. When your eyes met, it was like the stars of a thousand galaxies had unfolded within his irises, only to be seen by you. The feelings that swam within you were intoxicating. You felt like nothing was impossible, like you could conquer anything as long as he was by your side. The reality of it was, however, that his family was full of purist Death Eaters who would rather watch him bleed out before allowing you to be together. That was no secret since Lucius Malfoy was arrested, if it ever was. You wondered if he ever wished things had been different, or if the weight of his father’s expectations had been lifted. 

You didn’t know much of anything, nobody did. 

“You’re not what I expected, you know” you interjected into the silence, drawing his absentminded gaze from the artistic dendrites that were accumulating on the windowpane. “In fact, you aren’t anything like I’d expected.”

“Thank you?” 

You shook your head slightly, your eyes crinkling at the corners at the sight of his hesitance. “I don’t mean anything by it, Draco, really. It’s justㅡ” you pondered your words carefully, observing the developing tension between his brows as he looked over your face in apprehension.

“Your friends aren’t exactly charming.” you pointed out, meet his gaze on it halted its travelling over your features. “I just don’t understand why you choose to surround yourself with people like them.”

His eyes were like undiscovered waters, so full of life and potential, yet so uncertain. Their watchet hues carrying his emotional currents with great intensity, only promising the observer an opportunity to breathe once they’ve drowned. You wondered if he’d always been so transparent, or if you’d just fallen victim to a well-placed masquerade all these years. 

He shook his head, a conflicted look washing over his pointed features, his words laced with an underlying, possibly unintentional chill that you wished you weren’t on the receiving end of. “You couldn’t possibly understand, Y/N. You’re just a half-blood.” 

Draco paled slightly at the sound of his own unfiltered words, his gaze falling to his lap. “It’s different, everything’s just different.”

His words stung like a slap to the face, despite the truth behind them. You couldn’t possibly know, because you had never lived a life anywhere near his own. You’d grown up in an average house, with simple things and a relatively simple life. Your entire existence had always seemed exceptionally ordinary, but now it seemed that nothing in your life was simple at all. Even with this being true, your knuckles were tensed white as they twisted the fabric of your robes. Your temper had always proved to be a force to be reckoned with, disembodied at times, and hard to control. 

“I’ll have you know, my blood has never prohibited my fulfillment in life.” you found yourself drawn to your feet, arms crossed defensively over your chest as you watched him flounder helplessly. “Can you say the same, Malfoy?”

ㅡ

Your words dripped with an underlying animosity that was like acid, and it burned him to the core. Disappointment swam in your irises like a darkening cloud taking over the sky, and he wanted nothing more than to fix it, to take back what he’d said. He never wanted to see that look again ㅡ especially if he was the cause ㅡbut as he was about to speak, the bell at the door rang.

“Malfoy! Blaise is looking for you.” Goyle called out breathlessly, eyeing you suspiciously before he disappeared the same way he came.

Draco spun around to look to the door before looking back to you, a wave of distress briefly evident on his features. In complete honesty, he had never been so scared in his entire life. He was afraid of what was to come, what you would think of him when it did, and who he was dealing with. And yet he ignored that reluctance within him at the thought of walking away from that warm security that he felt when you were near, taking a step away from you.

“I have to go. I’llㅡ I’d love to see you again.” 

The distance between you was growing, and he was practically willing to beg. Anything you asked of him if it meant he could rid himself of this incessant fear for a moment longer. 

“The Astronomy Tower,” his eyes filled with hope. “Tonight. Will you meet me?” he pleaded, looking far too adorable for it to possibly be legal as he reached for the door.

You nodded, valiantly ignoring every ounce of common sense you had left as your shoulders sagged in defeat. 

“It’s a date!” he declared dramatically as a brilliant smile of relief took over his lips, and with a slam of the door, he was gone. 

What were you getting yourself into?

ㅡ

@httpsavocados

@that-weird-kid-charlie

@emothrash 

@sinfulmango

@theroyalbrownbarbie

[poltergeist-in-the-water-heater]

Falling Into Place

So this is the first chapter of an original novel that I’m working on that I decided to post.

I welcome comments and constructive critisism.

Like, seriously

Please tell me what you think of it.

Warnings for blood, death, and execution.

He couldn’t sit still.

Nikai sighed, foot tapping incessantly on the wood floor, and his fingers brushing through the pages of the book in his lap.

He tried to focus on the book, but his eyes kept drifting to the bright sky outside.

On any other day Nikai would have already been lost in the inky words covering the worn pages, but today something inside him screamed. Something important was going to happen today, and Nikai knew he wanted to be there for it.

Tearing his eyes away from the window Nikai looked at the water clock tucked into the corner, a little before one o’clock, close enough that it would be acceptable for him to practice before his lessons. He knew that he’d be distracted no matter what he did, but at least this way he’d be moving.

Nikai strode down the stairs and through the halls giving polite nods in response to the bows and curtsies of the servants as he passed. He emerged into the bright light shining on the courtyard and grabbed a dulled training sword. His instructor would bring all of his real weapons, which were locked away in the armory, so this would do for the time being. The dull strip of metal was no replacement for Nikai’s beautifully crafted twin blades, but Nikai found it mattered little as he fell into the familiar motions.

His vision manifested a ghostly figure clutching an indistinct blade in front of Nikai’s eyes. He crouched into a ready stance, and the figure charged forward. The screaming restlessness that had been plaguing him faded to the back of his mind as Nikai crossed blades with his imaginary opponent.

Nikai had bested a dozen false enemies by the time his instructor made his appearance.

At first Nikai didn’t even notice the grizzled soldier’s entrance. It took Malakai grabbing the young man’s wrist and snapping his fingers in Nikai’s face to get his attention.

Nikai turned wide-eyed to his teacher, “Ah, Malakai...didn’t see you there.”

Malakai narrowed his eyes in a clear message to the young noble, ‘Fix that.’

Malakai jerked his head toward the bench where he’d set Nikai’s weapons; a set of twin swords made from a gold-nickel alloy, twin knives made from the same metal, a mountain laurel longbow, and a quiver of aluminum arrows. Nikai dashed over to the bench and grabbed the long blades on the far left side. Malakai watched approvingly as his student inspected the blades for any irregularity and scratched at the skin under his beard.

The collarbone length beard was Malakai’s, rather paltry, attempt to hide the scars on his neck from when he’d been caught in a rockslide many years ago. Several rocks had managed to cut and crush parts of his throat, resulting in both the scars and the permanent loss of his voice.

The  order in which Malakai placed Nikai’s weapons on the bench was an important part of the system of communication the two had established; as Nikai only had the barest grasp of Alerian sign language. Malakai always placed the weapons on the bench in the order they’d work with them, left to right. It cut out some of the writing and awkward gesturing, though some was unavoidable.

Though the loss of his voice had made it difficult to continue as a soldier Malakai had still led a small, but effective, squadron for several more years until his retirement, and he remained one of the best warriors in the nation. Which was why Nikai’s father, Karal Anaka, had hired him.

Malakai had taught both of Nikai’s older brothers, Jayden and Zarak, but neither had been as dedicated of students as Nikai.

Nikai finished his inspection of the shimmering blades, and turned to face Malakai. Malakai readied his stance and pulled out his own twin swords.

Nikai struck first, darting forward to deliver an experimental slash to Malakai’s chest. The older man blocked the blade in a shower of sparks, and retaliated with a slash at Nikai’s leg. Nikai reversed his grip on his free blade to block the strike. Then pulled the blade up, scratching against the opposing guard, to jab the pommel into Malakai’s sternum. The soldier’s breath abandoned him in a gasp, and he half doubled-over the weapon. Malakai quickly stepped back to free his blades and catch his breath.

PHVOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!

The sharp blast of a conch horn shattered the relative silence.

Nikai’s eyes darted in the direction of the sound, his grip on his weapons loosening.

Then Malakai moved.

He darted forward while Nikai was distracted and fell into a crouch, scything his leg toward Nikai he swept the young blond off his feet. Nikai’s blades slipped from his lax grasp as his back collided with the stone ground and forced the air from his lungs. Malakai swiftly rose from his crouch into a battle ready stance and leveled the tip of one of his swords at Nikai’s throat.

Nikai groaned and raised his head as much as he could, chest heaving. He wanted nothing more than to keep the spar going. His swords weren’t too far away, and if he moved quickly and quietly enough he could land a strike at the back of Malakai’s knee before the man could avoid it. The sword at his throat wasn’t so close as to render him immobile. He could do it, but…

Nikai’s eyes drifted back in the direction of the horn blast.

They both knew what that meant.

Malakai drew his sword away from Nikai’s throat and stepped back, jerking his head towards the front gate of the courtyard.

Nikai nodded and leapt to his feet. He fumbled to grab his fallen swords still trying to catch his breath. Once his blades were safely sheathed and placed on the bench Nikai ran for the gate, going only slightly slower than a full sprint.

Nikai wove his way through the crowd gathering around the stage in the center of the capitol just half a mile in front of the Queen’s castle. The crowd shuffled uncomfortably around him. No one would look directly at the stage, and many people had tears in their eyes.

The entire city balanced on a knife edge; waiting for The Death Goddess to decide how many would fall.

Nikai swallowed around a lump in his throat, his shoulders tensing. Thaneri would visit this city today.

Nikai bent over his knees gasping like he’d forgotten how to breathe as soon as he reached one of the boxes settled around the back and sides of the stage. As soon as his breathing evened Nikai straightened and wiped the sweat from his forehead and limp hair. Then stepped up the stairs to join his father and brothers; all of whom looked far better put together than he did.

Nikai took his place to Zarak’s left. He could practically feel the heat of his father’s disapproving glare at his state on his brother’s other side, but the full weight of Karal’s disapproval would come later. To speak now would be a grave mistake.

A second horn blast sounded through the city, and a gilded palanquin draped in rare, expensive red silk was carried through the gap in the boxes where other noble families stood, though many were empty, at the back of the stage.

The servants carrying the ornate structure set it down on the stage and two retreated back down the stairs while the remaining two stood to either side.

Behind the palanquin came six figures cloaked in distinctive gray and black hooded uniforms. Each wore a unique mask over their eyes; telling the people exactly who they were.

Lightning.

Dust.

Wind.

Fire.

Snow.

Ice.

Rain.

The Storm Riders.

The Queen’s elite personal soldiers and assassins.

Seven of the greatest minds and warriors in the country.

Seven.

One of them was missing. Dust was notably absent.

Nikai narrowed his eyes at the space between Wind and Lightning where Dust usually stood. What reason could there be for him not to be standing there.

Before he could consider it any further the two servants beside the palanquin stepped forward and pulled the two drapes of silk covering the front apart to reveal a woman seated in a simple throne.

The Alerian Queen, Kiera.

She stepped forward, the sun glinting off her dark hair and the gold band woven with diamond shards on her head that symbolised her power.

Kiera stepped gracefully and deliberately forward, and Wind and Rain moved forward to flank her.

The Queen and her guards stopped several feet from the edge of the stage, and Kiera opened her mouth to address the people.

“People of Aleria,” she began, voice strong and resonating, “fifteen years ago this country was wreathed in chaos and strife. Cities were divided, and families were torn apart. The mistakes of our former King led to the Alerian Civil War, ten long years of suffering. I had made it my goal to end that suffering, and five years ago succeeded. For five years we have rebuilt our proud nation, but our fight is not over! The people set to come before you now sought to usurp our hard-earned peace. The efforts of my Storm Riders ensured that this would be a futile goal, but though they were stopped there are others who share their aspirations. Those people must learn that we are no longer a nation to be trifled with!”

As she spoke three guards led a line of prisoners onto the stage. Five men and women in shackles and blindfolds marching with resigned, trembling steps. Most of them shook like branches in a hurricane, more than one had tears streaming from under their blindfolds, and as they passed Nikai heard one man reciting a prayer to Alarak under his breath over and over.

Prayers to the God of Justice will not save you now, Nikai thought scathingly, justice is what you are about to receive.

Only one in the line of prisoners stood strong. He was fifth and last in the line. He had the same dark hair and tawny skin as most natives to the island, but was far more toned and solidly muscled than the average citizen. He stared dead ahead as though he wasn’t blindfolded, and his jaw was as stiff and solid as a mountain.

The guards marched them to the front of the stage several meters to the Queen’s left.

“These people, will be their example.” Kiera stated.

The woman first in line was pulled forward and knocked to her knees. Her head was forced onto an aluminum chopping block leaving her neck exposed. One of the guards pulled a gold-nickel axe off his back and stepped up beside her. The other guard’s foot on her back ensured that she wouldn’t be able to avoid her fate.

The first guard raised his axe.

The tension in the air reached its apex.

People in the crowd looked away as subtly as they could. Many pulled their children to their sides, hiding their child’s face in the fabric of their clothes so they wouldn’t see.

The axe fell, cleanly severing the woman’s head from her body with a sharp ring as the axe hit the block. Blood spilled from her corpse and severed head pooling across the top of the block. The blood spread like a flood, staining the woman’s frozen face.

The guard’s partner didn’t even flinch. Instead she lifted the woman’s head by its hair releasing a deluge of blood sending the red life liquid drip, drip, dripping over the edge of the block.

The female guard dropped the head at the edge of the stage spattering blood across the panels, and sending the nearest spectators darting back to avoid the splash. A few weren’t quick enough, and their faces were speckled with drops of blood.

The other guard tossed the body carelessly to the side.

The girl walked back to the third guard and grabbed the next in line; the man who still muttered prayers as he was dragged forward and forced to kneel in his compatriot’s blood.

Again and again and again the axe fell, each time spilling a little more blood...each time stealing one more life.

Finally it was the last man’s turn. The Storm Riders seemed to become even more alert as he was dragged forward, their eyes following him almost sadly.

The guards pushed him to his knees and forced his head onto the block.

The man hadn’t flinched once throughout the execution, despite the sounds of heads being cleaved and the ringing of the axe striking the aluminum block, and he didn’t flinch now. Even through the blindfold he seemed to stare right at the Queen. Then he said something.

Nikai couldn’t make it out, but Kiera tensed and narrowed her eyes.

As though he could sense her response, the man gave a toothy smirk.

Then there was a spray of blood and a harsh ring as, one final time…

The axe fell.

[races-erster]

snowed in (race x reader)

Requested: yep! by anon

Word Count: 1705

Warnings: none

A/n: Happy early Valentine’s Day guys!! I’m posting this fic a day early because I have another valentines fic for tomorrow! I hope you all like it!

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—

Valentine’s Day was the most romantic day of the year for you and Race. You two would always get in your nicest clothing and go to a fancy restaurant somewhere in the city. The only difference was that this year you were living together in your new home upstate.

—

You were busy getting ready when Race came into the room. He had a look of panic mixed with worry.

“Race, what’s the matter?”

“Have you looked at the weather or outside our window lately?” He said, strangely calm despite how he looked.

“No. Why?”

“Come on,” he said, grabbing your hand and pulling you towards the front door. “Can you get that to open?”

You turned the handle and pushed the door out towards your porch, but nothing was happening. The harder you pushed and pushed, the less you were able to get the door to move.

“There’s about a foot of snow out there. Apparently, the rain that was supposed to come tomorrow decided to come today and turned into snow.”

“You mean we’re stuck in here?” You groaned. You rested your head on Race’s shoulder and he wrapped his arms around you.

“Yeah, baby. I don’t know when we’ll get out, but I know it won’t be tonight.”

“God, I just can’t believe this. It’s the most romantic night of the year and we’re stuck here. I can’t believe we’re snowed in,” you groaned once more.

Race pulled back in order to look at you, “Hey, I know. But we’ll still have just as much fun as we would have if we had gone out. I’ll tell you what. I’ll cook us dinner, which will the candlelit of course, we’ll watch movies, exchange gifts, and do absolutely anything we can think of. Okay? How’s that sound?”

“Absolutely amazing,” you sighed as you laid your head back on his shoulder. “I love you, Race.”

“I love you too. Now, why don’t you choose a movie and I’ll get started making dinner. It shouldn’t take long.”

You nodded and head over to the couch while Race started to cook. You scrolled aimlessly through Netflix. By the time Race joined you again, you decided on the long list of Disney movies, starting with Mulan. You settled into Races side and decided you were much happier in that moment than you ever had been.

—

By the time the movie was over, dinner was ready, and Race was rushing you into your dining room. When you walked in, you saw the table littered with candles and your meals already on the table.

“Race this is incredible,” you said, turning to face him.

“Thanks, Y/n.”

Race led you over to your chair and pushed it in for you once you were seated. He then sat down and took your hand from across the table.

“Baby, do you want to do presents now or after?” He asked, rubbing circles on the back of your hand.

“Now. I can’t wait for you to see what I got you!”

“Okay, just give me one second.”

Race left the room and returned with a small box and a giant stuffed bear in his arms. He sat the bear down next to you and handed you the box. Inside, there was a small sterling silver pendant necklace with your first initial on the chain.

“Race, this is gorgeous. Thank you!”

“You’re welcome, baby.”

After the opening of your gifts were complete. You went into the kitchen to grab his present. You entered with another item in a box, although this one was larger than the last.

Race opened in, and inside saw a new watch that had both of your initials inscribed on the back along with the word ‘Forever.’

“Thanks Y/n. It’s great.”

“You’re welcome.”

—

The rest of the dinner went by, and was filled with the sounder of laughter and conversation. Afterwards, you both found yourselves back on the couch, holding one another, while another Disney movie played.

“Hey, Y/n,” Race started. “You know what would be fun?” He continued after you gave him a puzzled look. “We should build a blanket fort and stay in it for the rest of forever.”

“Okay! I don’t know if I can do the rest of forever since we both have jobs, but I’ll see what I can do,” you teased.

Race’s face lit up like a child’s on Christmas Day and went to the closet where all the extra blankets and pillows were stored.

“Racer, I think I may go take a shower and change into something more comfortable, so you can start the fort and I’ll help finish it,” you said.

“Okay! I’m probably going to change to. Don’t be too long okay,” he said, kissing you lovingly.

“Okay.”

—

By the time you were out of the shower and had changed, Race was nowhere to be found. You checked almost every room in the house, but there was no trace of him.

“Y/n, I’m in the guest bedroom if you’re looking for me!” Race called out.

You wondered how big the fort must have been for it to be in the one room that had yet to have furniture.

You walked into the room and were amazed at what you saw. The fort was about as tall as your couch and as long as your mattress. Although, there was still no sign of Race.

“Y/n, are you in here? I set up the blanket fort!” Race called from inside.

“Yeah, I see that,” you replied going near what you presumed the entrance of the for to be. “Can I come in, or no?”

“The password to get in is three words.”

That was typical. Leave it to Race to make something into a game. You knew what it was. It was the same every time, but there was no fun in guessing straight away. Humoring him was the better option.

“Um, let’s see. Is ‘let me in’ the password?”

“Not even close. Try again,” Race crooned.

“Will you at least give me a hint? What’s the first word?”

“The first word is I.”

“Okay then. Is the password ‘I want in’?” you guessed again trying to hide that fact that you were messing with him.

“Wrong again. I’ll give you another hint: the second word starts with L.”

“Okay, is it ‘I like forts’?”

That guess made you both laugh. It was such a ridiculous answer to a game that was really simple.

“Based on you laughing, I’m gonna go with no. Is it ‘I like you’?”

“You’re getting warmer. That guess was much better than ‘I like forts’,” Race mocked.

“Haha. Very funny. Is it ‘I love you’?”

Race’s head popped out from in between the blankets, “Bingo.”

You started to go into the blanket fort, but Race stopped you again.

“There’s one more thing you have to do before you go in,” he said.

“And what would that be?”

“Kiss me.”

You leaned in and kissed his cheek.

“Not what I meant,” Race said, shaking his head.

Okay what about if I kissed you here?” You said, kissing his jaw.

You then proceeded to kiss the side of his head, his nose, and the corner of his mouth. Each time he told you you were wrong.

“What about here?” You asked one final time before connecting your lips with his. You started to pull away, but he pulled you back to him.

“Perfect.”

Once he decided to finally let you into the fort, you were pretty surprised. He had taken all of your old white twinkle lights and put them all around the inside of the fort.

“So,” he started, pulling you toward him, “what do you think of our fort? Are the lights too much?”

“Race, it’s perfect. And the lights are kinda cheesy, but the good kind of cheesy.”

“Good. So, here’s what I think we should do. I think you should come here and let me hold onto you, then we can talk and just be glad we’re with one another. But first,” he turned around and grabbed a small cardboard box from behind him, “phone in the box.”

“Really?”

“Really. There should be no distractions in the blanket castle.”

“Okay. Just let me turn it off so there really are no distractions,” you said, handing him your phone once it was fully shut off.

“Good. Now come here,” he said holding his arms out toward you.

You moved closer to him, and he pulled you up into his lap. He wrapped his arms securely around your waist, just as he had earlier that night, and you put your head on the crook of his neck.

—

After some time of sitting in silence enjoying one another’s company, you said, “This is the best Valentine’s Day I’ve ever had. Thank you, Race.”

“You’re welcome, baby. I wouldn’t of had this night any other way.”

Race kissed your head and eventually, you felt yourself drifting off to sleep in his arms. He moved so you were both lying down, with you fully on top of him, so you were able to rest.

Not long after you both moved, you fell asleep.

—

You had been completely asleep when he checked to make sure his final gift for you was still in his pocket. He moved one arm from around you to reach into his hoodie pocket when you started to stir. He froze until he knew you were peaceful again and pulled out another small box.

He opened it, and inside was a small ring that he couldn’t wait to put on your finger. He admired the large diamond in the center of the ring and the smaller ones that surrounded it. He could only imagine how well it would look with you wearing it.

He was planning on asking you tonight at the place you first met, but the sudden blizzard put a wrench in his plans. He would find the perfect time though. He just had to.

It would be a symbol for something he had said earlier in the night. The ring would be to show that you two would be together for the rest of forever.

—

Tag List:

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[rememberyou-rememberme]

Growing and Gardening in Spain

As we sit writing this article we look out on snow covered palm trees and indeed a totally white landscape for the third time this winter and there have been three below zero nights that have seriously burned many succulents around the garden. Some will recover or be replaced by seeds dropped last autumn but the winter display of the initially mild winters is lost. But this is part of the natural weather cycle of the Mediterranean climate – hot summers and cold winters – which affects the northern Mediterranean coast from Gibraltar to Greece and beyond into Turkey. We live only ten kilometres from the sea as the eagle flies just beyond the first line of mountain peaks. When walking them earlier this morning in the beginnings of a blizzard the beaches were becoming white. Something that happens every ten years or so for a couple of hours.

Phoenix palms with stand snow but they are increasingly under attack by the long nosed red palm weevil Rhynochoporus ferrugineas inadvertently imported to Spain in diseased trees a few years ago and spreading rapidly in spite of attempts to local and fell and burn affected trees. Best thing is to plant smaller varieties unaffected to date or be patient and grow from seed – ours is now some four metres after twenty years or plant cordylines instead for a tropical effect!

Banks of geraniums and long lasting window boxes of geraniums used to be a staple joy of Spanish gardens but the African geranium moth that arrived and spread through Spain in the Mid 1990’s has meant that in many areas where there are many gardens unsprayed for months between holiday visits the best thing is to treat geraniums as annuals as the plants are inexpensive. Luckily the scented geraniums are unaffected and if planted among the affected varieties do act as a deterrent to the moths.

With many people deciding to return to the UK leaving houses for sale due to a shortage of work and the weak pound gardens are being untended giving eventual buyers a recovery job when knowing nothing about Spanish gardening. Luckily the is a chapter in our book ‘Your garden in Spain – From planning to planting and maintenance’ titled ‘Recovering and improving an existing garden.

Traditional Spanish gardens have large native trees or imported flowering trees for shade and if they are pines they are kept and the lay out and planting of the garden adapted to take advantage of the valuable semi and dappled shade available for part or all of the day to protect plants and people from the hottest summer suns. Unfortunately many 21 st century builders and gardeners cut them down.

Twenty five years ago most plants in garden centres were propagated in Spain and were the plants that had been used to stock gardens for a century or even two millennium. Today many are imported from foreign hothouses and jungle conditions that struggle to survive except in the most sheltered gardens. ‘Your garden in Spain’ describes some 400 popular plants most likely to survive in your Spanish/Mediterranean garden and our new book being published next month ‘Mediterranean Apartment Gardening’ does like wise with some 125 sensible plants for sunny semi shaded and shaded conditions.

With the increasing population of Spain and the abandonment of many of the vegetable and fruit growing areas surrounding villages and towns more and more fruit and vegetables are being imported and unfortunately new pests that attack Spanish crops are imported within the imported crops in spite of port and airport controls. In the last couple of years it has been pests that attack tomatoes and citrus trees. To date we have found that the eco controls we use and described in our books ‘Growing Healthy Fruit in Spain’ and ‘ Growing Healthy Vegetables in Spain’ have worked well enough for us.

Heavy rains in recent years have shown that the location of new urbanisations have not always taken into account where historic flash floods ran when there was exceptional rainfall so newly built walls have failed and newly planted gardens washed away. It happened a few years ago before our eyes just across the road. Indeed a dry river bed now lies buried under several gardens.

In the late 1980’s and early nineties Spain came out of several years of long droughts and one could expect a summer storm every four to six weeks which topped up the water table in gardens and there was little need for watering. In the following decade the extensive building along the coast and the end of the coastal belt of ancient natural greenery changed the climate. In recent years there have very few or no summer storms but more autumn rains.

Extremely heavy rains can result in gardens being designed to retain previously scarce valuable rainfall becoming flooded and saturated for weeks with the result that drought loving plants have rotted. It has become doubly important to prepare soils appropriate to the type of plants you intend to plant before doing so. Free draining raised beds and rockeries are becoming even more important for drought resistant plants.

But in spite of the above Spain and other Mediterranean climate areas are the most delightful and rewarding places to live not only for the colour and perfumes of seasonal plants and trees but also for being able to be very self sufficient from the garden – see the article ‘ Living very well from your garden ‘ in the October 2009 archives on this site.