#winter fic exchange: ambers secret santa

[sc0tters]

Hi I'm back with some random questions about like the details and such, the boy I have is Quinn (which is literally perfect since he was on your like to read list, unless you would rather me switch):

Right now the job Ellie works is literally a vague nondescript office job simply because I have no idea how an office works (I'm over 18 and working, my job just does not involve a typical office), do you want me to give Ellie a specific job or are you ok with the vagueness?

Do you have any preference for like side character names? Like Ellie's friends from the office?

If you want me to switch from Quinn, would you like me to do Jack Hughes, Mat Barzal, Tito Beauvillier, or Brock Boeser?

How involved do you want like Elias and Brock (or other players depending on if you want to write with someone else) to be involved in the fic (admittedly, they are the only other two Canucks I know at this point), on like a scale of 1-5, with 1 being not at all to 5 being main characters. I've written one fic where they were genuinely just there for comic relief because the fic was angst (I have a brand for fics, I'm so sorry)

I have as part of the plot that like Ellie has some family stuff with her mom and brother going on that affects the way she interacts with Quinn later on. Is that ok, or would you rather me not include that?

Thanks love!

I saw your other thing and realised i haven’t responded to this yet! Also the fact that you’ve already gotten to 3k for this makes me so happy for how excited you are!

in terms of job descriptiveness i am not gonna fact check anything so you could literally bullshit everything and I really wouldn’t notice 😭

I have no preference about anything for side characters names or anything else, im leaving that up to you!

Quinn is perfect!

I’m gonna go with a 3/4 because i love those boys and would love to see them in this story but if you don’t think it would make sense then don’t force their intro (if that makes sense)?

this might make you hate me but seriously please do whatever you want to Ellie in how you write her and her backstory. you have my full support and creative freedom on that!

[lyrabythelake]

A Time of Giving (And Taking)

I wanted to do a festive fic, but I couldn’t decide what to do, so I put all the boys’ names in a random Secret Santa generator and created a fluffy (cheesy) fic around that lol. 

I know this time can be difficult for some, but I wish you all the best festive season possible!

(A big thank you to the people who helped me with Wind-related gifts! <3)

“I’ll go first!”

The nine Links sit in a circle around the campfire, warm mugs of spiced apple in hand, their noses filled with the smell of cooking venison. The sky is a clear, icy blue and the air is frigid, determined to bite the tips of their ears and fingers despite the flames. The sun has not yet set, though it soon will, the shortest day of the year marking both darkness and their cause for celebration.

Sky had been the first to suggest a day off to celebrate the Winter Solstice. Apparently, it’s a big affair in Skyloft where the parties would be in full swing by now and would continue on through the night. Four had been the one to suggest they exchange gifts, and Warriors—ever practical—had amended their plan to ensure they each need only give one present rather than eight by picking names from a hat.

Thus began their gift exchange.

Time nods in response to Wind’s enthusiasm. “Go ahead, Sailor.”

Wind brings out a distinctively shaped package wrapped in cloth and extortionate amounts of string that sloshes slightly as he holds it out eagerly in the middle of the circle.

“Is that—” begins Hyrule, but he’s cut off by Wind’s exclamation of, “Twilight!”

Twilight hesitantly takes the offered package and begins the task of untangling the length of heavily knotted string wrapped around the circumference.

“Was this really necessary?” he mumbles, resorting to using sheer force to snap the package free.

“Hurry up!” Wind urges, practically bouncing where he sits.

“I’m trying, I’m trying—there.” Finally the package rolls free and the material comes away to reveal a circular glass bottle full of a dark amber liquid. Twilight holds it by its neck and brings it up to eye level.

“Rum,” he concludes.

“Good rum,” Wind corrects. “The finest my Hyrule has to offer, in fact. Made with the waters of The Great Sea itself. Linebeck swears by it. I picked it up when we were there the other week.”

Warriors, who is sitting beside Twilight, leans over to peer at it suspiciously. “It’s been opened already, look, the seals broken.”

Wind turns a faint pink at that. “Well, I had to try it. Just to make sure the quality was up to scratch, you know. Sometimes merchants try to trick people into buying the watered-down stuff, and I thought ‘No! Twilight only deserves the very best, even if he did tell me last out of everyone about his furry little secret and made me look like an idiot.’ So I had to make doubly—even triply—sure. So… you’re welcome.”

“He can’t have drunk that much, at least,” Sky points out. “It’s still full almost to the brim.”

“Ah, yes. Well, of course after that, I couldn’t very well give you a bottle of rum that was only three quarters full, so I did add a little water to it. Just to top it up. It’ll taste the exact same though, I’m certain.”

Twilight chuckles, shaking his head. “Thanks, Sailor. I’m sure it’ll go down a treat.”

“And, Wind,” Time adds, and Wind suddenly tenses at the obvious disapproval in his singular eye, “if I ever see you drinking anything other than water or potions for the rest of this trip, I will confiscate all your belongings for a week.”

Wind opens his mouth to retort, before deciding against it and turning back to the circle at large.

“Next!” he exclaims hurriedly, “Twilight, who did you get?”

Twilight sets his present to the side and rummages in his own bag. He pulls out a smaller package wrapped in crumpled, brown paper.

“Legend,” he says, passing it over, “this is for you.”

Legend carefully peels away the paper so as not to rip it and pulls out yet another glass bottle. This one is rectangular in shape, smaller than the bottle of rum and holds a dark liquid that glimmers pink in the sunlight.

Legend squints his eyes at the handwritten label and reads aloud, “Hylian hair dye in the colour… pink.” He says the last word with a glare in Twilight’s direction and Warriors chortles heartily.

Twilight grins widely. “Your roots are showing. Thought they could do with a touch up.”

“I don’t want pink hair,” he says through gritted teeth, “and it’s your fault it’s even this colour in the first place.”

Hyrule perks up. “Are we finally going to hear how it happened?”

“No,” Legend shoots back.

“I really wouldn’t use that if I were you, Legend,” Wild tells him seriously. “Once, I bought some blue hair dye from a travelling merchant and when I tried it, it went all green and patchy and some of my hair fell out. It took ages to get back to normal.”

Warriors wrinkles his nose. “Why would you want blue hair in the first place.”

“Why would I not want blue hair?” Wild asks, genuinely perplexed.

“I wasn’t going to use it anyway,” Legend mutters. “But you never know, maybe it’ll find its way into a certain farm boy’s shampoo.”

Twilight blanches, but before he can protest, Legend pulls something small from his pocket.

“Wild,” he says, and with a small clink he flicks the object into the air, where it arcs, glinting in the sunlight for a moment, before falling into Wild’s outstretched palm. He takes one look at it and gasps.

“It’s one of your rings! What does it do?”

Set seamlessly into the gold band is a small blue charm shaped like one of Legend’s bombs, and Wild decides he loves it already, whatever its properties.

“Increases blast damage against your enemies,” Legend says. “It should work with those blue explosives from your slate. Oh, don’t look at me like that, Old Man, you lot are way too protective over him. He’s an agent of chaos and we should utilise him.”

“Just… be careful,” Time tells Wild wearily.

“I love it, Legend,” Wild says genuinely, blatantly ignoring Time. “Thank you.”

Legend shrugs slightly bashfully. “I have, like, three anyway,” he mutters, though Wild’s grin doesn’t relent.

“Who did you get, Wild?” Wind asks impatiently.

“Oh, right!” Wild unhooks his slate from his belt and taps the screen a few times. In a flurry of light blue particles, a cake appears in front of him. “I got Four,” Wild says, handing it over. “It’s fruitcake because I know you like the food I make with berries and sweeter ingredients.”

Four’s face immediately lights up, taking in his carefully iced gift in both hands. It’s split into four different colours: red, green, violet and blue, with gold piping at the edges in a perfect replication of the embroidery on Four’s tunic.

“It looks amazing!”

Wild, who had been watching him nervously as he studied it, brightens. “You like it?”

“Of course! I love cake,” Four grins.

“Sky helped me with the piping. I’m not very good at drawing or anything like that.”

“I barely did anything,” Sky assures him.

“Can I try some later?” Wind asks.

Four raises an eyebrow. “If I don’t eat it all first. But I do have something else for you.” 

Wind lets out an interested “Ooh!” as he digs through his bag. This gift is long and thin and wrapped in dark velvet, even the packaging itself showing signs of his thoughtful workmanship. Four holds it carefully as he passes it to Wind who takes it with boyish eagerness, unwrapping it without hesitation. However, he slows in his excitement when he realises what lies within.

“Is this—” he begins, his voice ever so slightly higher in pitch than usual, and he brings out a red and gold telescope, two dancing seagulls painted on the side.

“It took a while, but once I collected the right parts, it wasn’t too difficult to mend,” Four tells him.

“I thought it was broken forever,” Wind whispers, blinking the beginnings of tears from his eyes as he looks at Aryll’s beloved telescope he broke weeks ago during battle. It has been a great source of pain for him since it happened, and he has been dreading going back home and breaking the news to Aryll. Of everything he owns, this telescope is one of the most precious.

“It looks even better than before,” he sniffs, noticing the way the gold trims gleam a little more and the seagull design, previously faded, looks newly painted.

“I gave it a polish and a new paint job while I was at it.”

Wind’s face crumples and he places the telescope on the ground before launching himself at Four in a tearful, full-bodied hug.

“Thank you.”

“It was no problem, really!” Four exclaims, his words muffled against Wind’s tunic.

It takes a few moments for Wind to remove himself from Four and make his way back to his place in the circle, wiping his eyes on his sleeve and peering at the others self-consciously.

“I’m not crying, by the way,” he says, despite the evidence stating otherwise. “My eyes just leak sometimes.”

“Sure, Sailor,” says Warriors, ruffling his hair and shooting an approving glance at Four.

“So, who’s next?” asks Wild, partly to take their attention away from Wind’s ‘leaking eyes’ and partly because his stomach is beginning to feel uncomfortably empty, drawing his mind to the meal they will have once they all have their gifts.

“I’ll go,” Time says, bringing out a package from behind his back wrapped in the same crumpled brown paper that Twilight had wrapped his in. “Captain, this is for you. I wanted to get you something I knew for certain you’d like.”

Warriors takes the present and slowly pulls the paper apart. As he catches a glimpse of what’s inside, his expression turns from curiosity to bemusement.

“You little shit,” he says with a huff.

“What is it?”

Warriors pulls a length of very familiar blue material from his lap.

“Wait,” says Wind as Twilight snorts with laughter. “Time gave you your scarf? Which you already own?!”

“Now that,” says Legend, “is genius.”

“I’ve been looking for this all morning,” Warriors tells Time irately over the steadily growing laughter from the rest of the camp. “You know how much it means to me!”

“And what greater gift is there than the inexplicable return of your most treasured possession?” Time points out with a cool smile.

“You’re awful,” says Warriors, though there’s a hint of humour in his glare now, no matter how he tries to hide it. “And I’m going to show you what a good gift is. Hyrule,” he proclaims, pulling out a large, parchment envelope with a flourish, “this is for you.”

Hyrule reaches over the fire and takes it with two hands, running his fingers over the parchment, finer quality than he has ever held in his life. It’s sealed with the familiar Hyrulean crest which seems to be more-or-less consistent between all their lands.

He frowns, wondering what could be inside.

“Oh, open it already,” says Legend impatiently with an air of expectancy that suggests he knows exactly what it is.

Hyrule takes the small knife he carries on his belt and skilfully cuts the wax so that it comes away from the paper cleanly, unbroken. Inside is another sheet of parchment, thicker than that which the envelope is made of. It has a glittering, gold leaf crest at the top above several paragraphs of neatly printed script.

Among other things, Legend has been teaching him letters after he expressed his interest a couple of weeks ago, but the writing here is still beyond him. He can recognise the shape of his own name at the top ‘Link’, next to the words ‘Hero of Hyrule,’ and there is a large, looping signature at the bottom.

“I—I can’t read it,” he admits ashamedly.

“It’s okay,” says Warriors. “You don’t need to. Remember when you told me you weren’t good enough to be a Knight? It was one of the first things you said to me actually, and I remembered it because it struck me how untrue it was. Well, I pulled a few strings, sent a couple of letters to my Zelda, and proved you wrong. You’re now officially an honorary Knight of Hyrule.”

Hyrule’s eyes widen and he looks back to the certificate in front of him. “What?”

“Only in my Hyrule, of course,” Warriors continues. “But the princess was very eager to sign off on it when I told her of all you had done to save your kingdom and how good you are on the battlefield. She said she’ll do the proper knighting ceremony next time we visit.”

Hyrule’s mouth gapes as he looks from the paper to Warriors, mouth agape. “Really?” he asks disbelievingly.

“Really,” Warriors confirms.

“Wow. I can’t believe—thank you, Wars, this is a wonderful gift.”

“You don’t need a certificate to attest your worth to us, but I thought it would finally prove it to yourself, at least.”

Hyrule smiles bashfully, his eyes alight with something new.

“So that’s who you were writing to,” said Time. “I was convinced it was some secret love affair.”

“I’m wounded, Old Man. I’m not that shallow.”

“You’re definitely that shallow,” Legend says. “But I have to admit, you did good on this one, Pretty Boy.”

Legend watches with fondness as his protégée looks at the certificate one last time in amazement before reluctantly putting it back in the envelope and pulling another gift out of his bag.

“Well, I don’t really think I can top that, but here. Sky, this is yours.”

Sky’s present is a small package, neatly wrapped in thin, brown cloth and decorated with festive, but suspiciously poisonous-looking, red berries.

“Don’t eat those,” Hyrule warns redundantly as Sky begins to unwrap it.

Inside is a second piece of material, wrapped up and tied with ribbon. Unfolding it reveals an image made of gold and crimson thread, a Skyloft mid-flight. It’s a little rough around the edges–the eye and one of the wings are a little wonky–but Sky lights up as if it’s the most beautiful thing in the world.

“You made this?” he asks.

Hyrule chuckles nervously. “Yeah. Legend’s been teaching me embroidery and that’s the first proper thing I’ve made. I know it’s not the best—maybe later I can make you a better one when I’ve improved.”

“It’s perfect, ‘Rule, thank you. I’ll hang it up on my wall as soon as I get back to my dorm at the Knight’s Academy.” 

Hyrule blushes as Sky wraps his arms around him in one of his famous, soft hugs.

“You’re welcome,” he says quietly.

“And, I think that leaves just one more,” says Warriors after Hyrule collects himself.

“Good, I’m getting hungry.” Wild looks towards his cooking pot longingly.

“I’ll make it quick then,” says Sky. “Here, Time, this is for you.”

Sky drops a small pouch into his hand which he takes with a nod of thanks. He unknots the string tying it together and pulls out a small, elegant wood carving. When he realises what it is, the corners of his eyes crinkle in a knowing smile.

“It’s beautiful, Sky. Truly.”

“What is it?” asks Wind.

Time holds the carving out for all of them to see, balanced on his palm. It’s a horse, mid gallop, the carvings intricacies reaching as far as individual hairs in its flowing mane and tail.

“It’s Epona,” Time tells him. “I don’t think I’ve seen a finer depiction in my life.”

Sky scoffs in embarrassment. “That’s nice of you to say.”

“These have been the best presents ever,” Wind exclaims.

“Speak for yourself,” Warriors mumbles, to which Legend nods agreeably.

“They’ve been great,” Wild says. “But can we please eat now?”

“Dish it up, Cook,” Warriors says. “But first, I think a toast is in order.” He holds his cup of spiced apple up in the air and announces, “To family! It’s an honour to be spending this Winter Solstice with you all. No matter where our paths may take us, I’ll look back on this time with much fondness. There’s no one else I would rather have by my side in our triumph over darkness.”

The others lift their cups up in accordance and clink them together.

“To family!”

[princessbatears]

Yellow Glow

#Pedros12DaysofChristmas Secret Santa fic exchange for @catfishingmorales​

Lex, my beautiful friend, you are such a treasure! I love seeing you on my dash every day and talking to you often. I hope you enjoy this story about you and werewolf Frankie! -Your secret Santa, Natalie 🥰🎅

Pairing: Werewolf Frankie Morales x Lex ( @catfishingmorales ) Summary: When Frankie comes over to help you put up your huge Christmas tree before the upcoming full moon, you’re not sure why his eyes keep changing color when they look at you Warnings: mild language Words: 1.3k Tags: Were!Frankie, personal werewolf lore, some pining, Lex’s amazing Christmas tree, pizza party A/N: This is a Lex AU of my were!Frankie series

So, so much thanks to my beta @hdlynn​ who helped me make sure this gift is the best it can be 😘

It’s dark when you get off work even though it’s only a little after 5:00. December makes the days feel almost unbearably short. It’s almost the winter solstice, though, and that means the daylight hours will begin to lengthen again.

When you reach your car, you pull out your phone. You’ve got a text from Frankie. Just seeing his name on your lock screen makes your heart quicken.

You open the text. It says: ‘Hey, I got time to help you put your fancy Christmas tree together tonight if you want’

Immediately, you type back, ‘Sure!’ But no, that sounds a little too eager, so you delete and try again, ‘That works for me. You sure you don’t mind?’

You watch the screen. There are the ellipsis of his response, then, ‘No problem. I won’t be able to come over this weekend and don’t want you to have to wait’

‘Pizza?’ you offer, knowing that food goes a long way with most people, but especially Frankie.

‘Always!’

Grinning, you start the drive back to your apartment. As soon as you arrive, you order an XL pizza and quickly give your appearance a quick refresh. You know you’re just friends, but you still want to look your best.

You fix your eyeshadow and eyeliner and add a bit more blush, bringing out the warmth to your brown skin. You also put on a soft blue sweater that hugs your curves in a way that makes you feel sexy and just a little more confident.

When there is a knock on your door, you grab your wallet and hurry to the door to give the driver a tip (you don’t trust corporations to actually give them when they’re paid online). To your surprise, it’s Frankie holding the pizza box with a big grin.

“The delivery gal got here just as I did,” he explains.

“I need to tip her, though!”

“Already taken care of,” he winks as he walks inside past you. You quickly close the door against the chilly air, the scent of pizza wafting through your place.

Frankie sets the box on the kitchen counter before turning to you. His eyes glow a soft yellow. You’ve only seen it a couple times before, but you know it’s because the full moon is coming this weekend. Which is probably why he couldn’t help you with the tree, come to think of it.

When he doesn’t stop staring at you with those eyes, you feel your face getting hot and quickly go to the fridge for drinks. “I got soda and wine,” you offer.

“Soda. My inhibitions aren’t at their strongest right now, don’t like to mix alcohol with that.”

How badly you want to tell him that your inhibitions are super close to going out the window, too. You really, really want to take off his ball cap so you can run your fingers through his fluffy hair. Then, remove his flannel shirt and touch his broad, bare chest.

“You okay, Lex?” he asks, cocking his head. His eyes have returned to their dark brown.

Face heating again, you grab a couple of sodas and offer him one. “Yeah, fine,” you mumble. “Spacing out.”

He chuckles sympathetically. “That’s a real struggle for me right now. I was at work today and got totally overwhelmed by the smell of everyone’s emotions.”

“I can only imagine.” You’re not quite sure what to say. Frankie’s been a werewolf for a couple of years, but you only found out three months ago when he finally trusted you with his secret.

Since then, he’s allowed you to be around him the week before the full moon, the week that his eyes shift to amber, the week he sometimes speaks or acts very strangely, the week he feels vulnerable as his soul prepares to merge with the Wolf’s for one night of every month.

He’s staring at you again with those yellow eyes. What’s he feeling? You want to ask, but don’t quite have the courage. What if it’s something bad?

“You look nice,” he says softly.

That was not what you expected. You spit out the first thing you think of, “The sweater… it’s old.” Smooth. Why couldn’t you just say ‘thanks’?

Frankie pulls the tab back on his can of soda and then grabs a slice of pizza. “My favorite!” he beams, like nothing had just happened.

You also grab a slice and watch happily as he inhales three pieces in minutes. It might be a little thing, but making sure he’s fed, knowing that he enjoys the food you provided, it makes you feel good.

He finishes eating before you, so he stands there, watching you. Nervously, you push your glasses farther up your nose. “I’ve got some cookies if you want.”

Frankie shrugs. “Maybe later.” He’s smiling, his eyes amber yet again.

Finally, you can’t take it. “Are you… is there…” No, no! You can’t ask why his eyes look like that, it’ll make him self-conscious.

“What?”

“Nothing.”

“Come on, tell me,” he purrs, voice even deeper than usual.

Hoping you don’t sound like a total jerk, you say, “I’ve never seen your eyes turn yellow quite so much. Are you okay?”

Much to your horror, he blushes, looking at the floor. “I’m sorry, I don’t realize it’s happening. It’s why I tend to stay away from people when it’s almost the full moon.”

Dammit, you should have lied about what you were going to say!

“You’re not doing anything wrong,” you backtrack quickly, touching his arm. “But you said it happens when you’re feeling a lot of emotions and I was afraid something was wrong.”

Frankie shuffles his feet, finally looking back at you. His expression is shy. “I’ve been… for a long time…” He stops, fists clenched as he battles with himself.

Your hand squeezes him lightly, reassuringly. He’d already told you he was a werewolf. What could be harder than that? “You can tell me anything, you know that, Frankie.”

Taking a deep breath, he finally smiles. “You’re the funniest, kindest, prettiest, most amazing woman I know. I really, really like you. So much more than you can possibly know. The Wolf does, too.”

Your brain stalls as you realize he’s confessing to feeling the same thing you feel for him.

“That’s why I keep going yellow.” He points at his eyes. “The Wolf’s looking at you. Respectfully,” he adds quickly. “Very respectfully. But we both think you’re the absolute best. I really wanna kiss you right now, but I just ate pizza, so you might not like that.”

“I just had pizza, too,” you breathe before you can stop yourself.

His smile broadens as he steps closer. “You want me to kiss you?”

“I do.”

His solid arms wrap around you in a way that feels completely different from the usual hugs you share. His hands run over your back as he holds you close to him. There’s a pause just before his lips touch yours, giving you the chance to back out. That’s the last thing you want to do.

The ability to think has vanished and all you know are his warm, soft lips, the way he presses against you, how you’re pulling off his cap and actually running your fingers through his hair. It’s even better than you’d imagined.

It doesn’t last as long as you want, but Frankie’s a gentleman and is never going to push any boundaries. When he pulls back, he’s grinning. “I’ve wanted to do that for so long.”

“Me, too.” You’re breathless, smiling as widely as he is.

“Can I take you on a date next week, after I recover from the full moon?”

You nod excitedly. “Yeah.” A part of you is already panicking about what you’re going to wear, but you force that thought out of your head. Focus on here, on now.

“I can’t wait.” He gives you another little peck on the tip of your nose. “Now, I think I promised to help you set up some fancy huge-ass Christmas tree.”

You laugh, having completely forgotten that’s why he came in the first place. “The box is in my room.”

[hiccanna-tidbits]

Happy Holidays, RotBTD Fandom!!!

Hello everyone! This is my Secret Santa gift for @siodymph’s RotBTD Gift Exchange!! Or a preview from it anyway--the full fic is actually much longer and is still a work in progress ^^; 

I got @disney0bsessoid5150! I admittedly stalked your page a bit and it seems like you ship Jackunzel and enjoy angst, so I was just like ohhhhhhh yes, I can work with that!!! Truthfully I used it as a bit of an excuse to finally start on an angsty Jackunzel fic I’ve wanted to write for a loooooong time now. I think it’s approaching like...4 years that I’ve had the concept now?? Anyways, I guess I’m finally getting around to it! And I owe ya one for giving me an excuse to finally get up off my butt and get started on it XD

So I came across and really fell in love with the idea of icicle!Jack a few years ago, where basically Jack gets covered in icicles after his power goes out-of-hand in some way and like...double-freeze him, or Pitch does some shenanigans to use the icicles to make the poor boy even MORE isolated. Largely inspired by NightmareHound’s comic strips about Icicle Jack on deviantart as well! And of course my Jackunzel Trash brain instantly was like “Angsty Jackunzel fic??? Angsty Jackunzel fic??? Do I smell ANGSTY JACKUNZEL FIC???” as soon as I saw Icicle!Jack, so here is said angsty Jackunzel fic. The full first chapter will be posted on my fanfiction.net account Infrared-Ultraviolet soon!

Now without further ado--please enjoy this preview from my new story, Melting Icicles!

(Preview starts under Keep Reading marker)

The winter seems to last an eternity.

February is beginning, and some of the ice is starting to melt. Jack Frost treks through the forest again, heading for the creek.

Spring isn’t coming anytime soon, not on the Nightmare King’s watch. And if this means Jack Frost has to refreeze the entire forest and dump another 2 feet of snow on it, so be it.

He’s getting awfully tired of doing Pitch’s bidding, and although he admits it to no one but himself, he feels he could use some sun after all these months of dark. But if he loses the Nightmare King, he knows he will be alone again.

Someone who fills his mind with vicious whispers is better than no one at all.

The ice across the top of the creek is cracked and splintered in places, revealing water starting to rush with spring fervor. Certainly well on its way to thawing completely, if the late winter sunshine keeps up.

He spots a plump female rabbit a little ways down the bank, ears twitching and nose to the ground. She sniffs cautiously around the dead reeds and gingerly puts a paw down on the ice, pressing down as if to test it.

Seemingly satisfied, she takes another step forward, hopping slightly with her back legs so that her front half is now entirely on the ice. Jack feels himself tense up.

She wants to cross, he realizes.

The rabbit takes a few more paces forward, tiny, furred nose twitching as she goes. She takes one more step, and there’s a small snap beneath her.

“No, no, go back!” Jack hisses, feeling anxiety creep up in him like a brewing blizzard. “It’s not safe to cross yet!”

Frustration prickles at him as he watches the rabbit, willing her to back up to the banks. Couldn’t she wait until after he re-iced the creek to try and get wherever she needed to go?

The rabbit skirts the small fissure and continues on her way, albeit more timidly. Another louder crack sounds and she freezes again, nose twitching furiously.

Jack creeps carefully along the treeline to get a better look at where she is. The ice is nearly as clear as a window, and he can see the waves of the chilled stream rushing by below it.

It may as well be paper-thin.

The rabbit takes another step forward, and a crack spreads out in front of her, splitting and bifurcating like the branches of an eerie tree. The crevices grow and grow, scattering off to the side and spreading into a wide semi-circle almost completely surrounding her.

The entire ice cover is about to cave in.

No! Jack lunges forward, jabbing his staff at the thawing stream and sending a fresh wave of ice surging down it. The rabbit’s head turns and her eyes widen at the fast-encroaching wisps of blue-white. She leaps backward, spooked.

In one slow, horrifying moment, the ice gives way beneath her, and she plunges into the stream. Jack can’t quite put his finger on why, but the image chills him to the very bone.

It’s almost as if there’s a haunting sense of…familiarity.

Snapping out of his shock, he jumps into action. He slams his staff down against the icy creek, and it shatters like glass, fragments of ice spilling into the rushing water below. Crouching down, he plunges his hand into the water and freezes it into a thick dam of ice.

The rabbit lets out a cry as she collides with it seconds later, the wind knocked out of her temporarily. Jack scoops her up and pulls her out of the water, starting to massage her soaked, cold fur.

“It’s going to be okay,” he murmurs. “You’re safe now.”

He summons a burst of wind from his staff and lets it sweep across the rabbit, dragging the cold water away. The rabbit shudders as it passes, paws twitching uncomfortably.

“I know it’s cold,” he says meekly, an apology heavy in the words. “But you’re going to be alright. I promise you.”

“You shouldn’t make promises you can’t keep,” he can almost hear the Boogeyman saying.

Well, you’re wrong. I’m going to keep this one.

He starts to run his hand back and forth through the rabbit’s fur, trying to generate some semblance of warmth. The creature trembles, letting out a low whimper.

The shivers start small, nothing more than tiny tremors. But with each stroke, they grow stronger and stronger, until the creature is shaking like an autumn leaf.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers. “I’m trying.”

The rabbit jerks suddenly, starting to twitch and squirm toward the edge of his hands. He reaches out his thumbs to try and grab her, but she’s too quick. In one fluid movement, she twists out of his hands, toppling to the ground.

There’s a shock of red as she hits the ground, and Jack sees crimson lines rapidly beginning to form in her gray-brown coat. Places where his icicles grazed her in the fall, he realizes.

Not again…

“No, please…” His voice is shaking, becoming desperate. Frantic. “I want to help. Please let me help.”

He has to be able to do more than hurt. He has to.

Pitch has to be wrong about him.

The rabbit starts to drag herself away, leaving a trail of cherry-red in the snow. Tears brimming in his eyes, Jack reaches out and gently scoops her up again, careful not to touch the gashes.

Maybe I can at least wash them off before she goes…

The rabbit goes limp in his grip, seemingly with little fight left in her. For one horrifying moment, he wonders if she suffered the same fate as the squirrel, until he feels the shallow rise and fall of her breaths against his hands. His entire body slackens with relief.

“Allow me.”

An unfamiliar voice sounds behind him, and he turns.

The snow-melting girl from the clearing is looking right at him, long blonde hair streaming out behind her like a river of sunlight.

She can see me…

He expects her to shudder or wince at the sight of the coating of icicles, but she doesn’t even appear to give them a second glance. She steps forward, bare feet quickened with a sudden sense of urgency.

She kneels before him and sits on her knees, starting to wrap the ends of her long hair around his hands and the shivering rabbit in tight ropes. He doesn’t resist, too surprised to protest. He feels the rabbit finally relax against him, something about the touch of the girl’s hair seeming to finally calm the animal down.

Then the girl begins to sing.

A golden-orange glow glides down her hair, brighter than the purest amber. When it reaches his hands, a sudden warmth surges through him. A warmth unlike anything he’s ever known.

He leans into it, feeling like he’s stepping into the sunlight for the very first time.

“Flower gleam and glow Let your powers shine Make the clock reverse Bring back what once was mine

Heal what has been hurt Change the fates’ design Save what has been lost Bring back what once was mine What once was mine” 

Her words are haunting, making him feel an emotion he finds he doesn’t quite have a name for.

The glow fades as the girl finishes, and she delicately pulls her hair away. The rabbit perks up, long ears sticking high in the air and nose wriggling curiously. The cuts on her side have completely vanished, any trace of red seeming to have been carried away with the winter breeze.

She hops out of Jack’s hands and bounds cheerfully away, eyes bright and eager again. In moments, the icy stream, the cold winter spirit hands, and the sharp icicles appear to have been completely forgotten.

“You…saved her.” He looks up at the girl in wonder. “From…from me.”

She shakes her head, smiling. “No, we saved her. I saw what you did with the ice dam. She would have drowned if not for you.”

“Only because I spooked her and made her fall in in the first place,” he mutters.

“Because you were trying to make the ice thicker so she could cross,” the girl says gently. “You were only trying to help.”

He scoffs. “Yeah, and look how well that went.”

Her smile widens, and Jack could swear he picks up just the slightest hint of a smirk in it. “She’s alive, isn’t she? I’d call that a net success.”

“Only thanks to you,” he mumbles.

He looks over her, and he finds his curiosity gets the better of him. She may be strange, but he can’t help but be intrigued. “Who are you, anyways?”

Her face falls suddenly, pink-purple dress seeming to sag like wilting flowers. “You mean you don’t know?”

He gazes at her, puzzled. “Should I?”

She stops and thinks on this for several moments before finally shaking her head. “No…no, I guess you wouldn’t.”

“How can you see me?”

She looks taken aback for a period before smiling sadly. For just a moment, she looks like she might be on the verge of tears.

She appears contemplative, like she’s choosing her words carefully. Finally she says, with the air of holding quite a bit back, “I’m a spirit too.”

“A spirit? A…Guardian?” He suddenly backs away, growing wary of her.

My replacement…

“Well, no…not exactly.” She looks away, frowning. “I help them sometimes, when they need it. But I’m not…one of them. I’m Rapunzel,” she adds, looking back at him and smiling warmly.

“Jack Frost,” he mumbles, not sure how to response to this entire situation. Never, not once in his 300 years of existence, has someone just…come up and cordially introduced themselves to him.

It’s amusing, really. Something that must seem so mundane to all the people he sees walking about the streets of the towns and cities he wanders through seems completely alien to him.

“I know. I’ve been watching you.”

He gives her a strange look, and she slaps her hand over her mouth, eyes widening.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean…! That must sound so creepy! I wasn’t—gosh, I didn’t mean to be following you around! I’m so sorry!”

She buries her face in her hands, as if slowly realizing the size of the hole she’s dug herself into.

Jack can’t help but chuckle at the utter unexpectedness of the entire scenario. “I don’t think it’s creepy. Just…strange. I mean, why would you want to trail me?”

She peeks at him from between her fingers, expression shy. “I see those frost patterns you leave on the trees. They’re beautiful. I…did accidentally melt a few, though.”

She looks away again, embarrassed. He remembers her hand recoiling after touching his frost the other day, her gasp of horror. He thought she’d been appalled by the freezing cold…but perhaps she had only been dismayed she had started to melt it.

The thought that someone appreciated his work was more comforting than she knew.

He looks over her and something suddenly clicks in his mind—the ice-melting hands and feet, the flower-colored dress, the life-giving healing hair, the light green eyes. “You’re a spring spirit,” he realizes.

She smiles at him, shrugging. “I am, but…I think all of the seasons are beautiful. I love yours, too. I came out a bit earlier than I was supposed to so I could have a look at everything you’ve done. It’s gorgeous.”

If Jack Frost still had color in his skin, he’s sure he’d be blushing. How embarrassing.

He tries his best to deflect the compliment, smirking at her instead. “Oh, what gave away that I was a winter spirit?”

She smirks right back at him. “Oh, nothing, really. Just a shot in the dark.”

It’s a moment before it dawns on him that she hasn’t started to retreat after she finished her healing. She hasn’t apprehensively scooted away from the protruding ice spines, hasn’t eyed him with the same careful fear as someone creeping past a chained beast that could rip free at any time and lunge. If anything, she’s made herself more comfortable next to him—hugging her knees to her chest, resting her chin on her hands and regarding him thoughtfully.

She’s just naïve, he thinks bitterly. She’ll find out soon enough that all I can do is hurt people. She can’t fight my nature any more than I can.

Nonetheless, the girl seems kind, if lacking somewhat in worldly wisdom. He hates the thought of anything bad happening to her.

“I’m surprised you let yourself get so close,” he says, the implied warning clear in his voice. “You know…considering all this.”

He gestures at his torso, sweeping a hand in front of his lower chest to show off an especially honed row of icicles. Rapunzel seems unfazed.

“I’m not worried,” she says nonchalantly. “I think I can manage to not get close enough to jab myself.”

“But what if I got closer to you?” he retorts. “What if I attacked you? You know, getting cut with these, it wouldn’t be…” He trails off, unsure what he’s trying to say. “Just…you shouldn’t trust so easily, Rapunzel. I could hurt you.”

She shrugs, looking almost annoyingly unperturbed. Smiling, she holds up a lock of blonde hair.

“I have this, remember? I think I can handle myself fine. Besides…” Her eyes soften. “You don’t seem like the type who wants to hurt people. You just seem…lonely. And sad.”

He bristles suddenly, alarmed. This girl he barely knows, who he met mere minutes ago…how had she pegged him so entirely?

“How can you know that?” he asks, unable to keep the edge out of his voice.

She smiles again, and this time, there’s something bittersweet about it. “Well…if you wanted to hurt people, you wouldn’t try and make the winter beautiful just because you can. You’d make it angry, destructive. But you wouldn’t find ways to make it into art.”

He sighs, looking away. “Those gashes on the rabbit…you know those were because of me, right? I…I didn’t mean to hurt her, but stuff like that just…happens, if you’re around me. When I try to help.”

“But you were trying to help,” she says, without missing a beat. “And that’s what matters to me.”

“So stupid,” Pitch whispers in his mind. “So tragically, trustingly stupid. People who try to see the good in monsters are only going to get devoured in the end. When she succumbs to some tragic demise, there will be nothing to blame but her own bleeding-hearted naivety.”

She makes no move to distance herself from him. No move to flee from the obvious danger. If anything…he swears he can see her inching closer.

He looks back at her, eyes growing as cold as the ice he trails throughout the forest.

“You’re making a mistake,” he says harshly. “It’s not safe around me. You want to end up like…”

Like the squirrel?

He stops short, finding himself reluctant to spill the details of the incident…no matter how relevant.

Perhaps, he finds himself thinking, she doesn’t need to know. Not yet.

Idiot. Of course she needs to know. How else will she see what abominations you’re capable of?

“…marred like that rabbit?” he says instead.

Of course you pick the story with the happy ending. Of course you pick the comparison that could persuade her to stay. What on earth makes you think she’d want to, anyhow?

“I’ll take my chances,” she says softly.

Jack hates himself for the unadulterated exhilaration that courses through him.

What the hell is wrong with you?! You shouldn’t want her to stay! She’ll get impaled in the end somehow, and it’ll be all your fault…

“You look like you need a friend, Jack Frost,” she adds, eyeing him sympathetically. “No one deserves to be alone.”

He thinks of a man cloaked in black, and he looks away guiltily.

“I do have a friend,” he argues. “And he says…he says no one else would want to be my friend. He hasn’t been proven wrong yet.”

She scowls deeply—an expression that looks almost amusingly out-of-place on such an innocent, serene face, he thinks.

“That doesn’t sound like a very good friend, if he tells you things like that,” she retorts.

He shrugs, trying his best to look indifferent. “It’s all I know. It’s better than being alone.”

“Well, then maybe it’s time for you to know something better.” She brightens up again, the frown flitting away as quickly as it had come. “You think you could use another friend?”

She gazes expectantly at him with those big green eyes of hers, and he feels a prick of annoyance at how convincing she’s being. It’s an offer that’s hard to refuse, he has to admit.

In a heartbeat, the Nightmare King is back, whispering doubts into his mind. Telling him it’ll only end in disappointment and abandonment and being alone once again.

For once, Jack ignores it.

“It’s at your own risk,” he says simply.

“I can live with that.” Rapunzel shrugs. “Will I see you again?”

His lips, long-since blue and frosted over, form the tiniest hint of a smile. “I think you will.”

[mamabearcat]

Fortune Favors the Bold

This Secret Santa is so sorry for her tardiness. A combination of travelling, panic over bush fires, and all three children getting a vomiting virus the day before Christmas Eve put a real dampner on my efforts to get this fic finished. It had been almost finished for weeks, but I just couldn’t get the ending right. I’m still not entirely happy with it, but I think you’ve waited long enough @redflamesofpassion​

I hope you enjoy it, and Happy Holidays!

Kagome climbed out of the well, her cold fingers making the simple task feel impossible as she grasped the vines to pull herself up over the wooden surround. The cold blustery weather she’d just left behind in modern Tokyo seemed to have followed her to the past. Or had she followed it? Whatever. Her life was confusing enough without trying to compare weather patterns in the same place five hundred years apart.

She blew on her chilled fingers as she hurried towards the village, tucking them into her armpits to warm them. She’d jumped through the well in a hurry, anxious to get back, and had accidentally left her jacket on the kitchen table. The chill wind felt like it was leaching heat from her body, and her long sleeved white cotton serafuku shirt and green skirt was doing little to keep her warm. It would be good to sit around the glow of the fire in Kaede’s small home; she hoped everyone had stayed safe while she had been away catching up with schoolwork.

At least the weight of the overfilled yellow bag was keeping her back warm. She’d packed lots of extra food that Inuyasha liked as a peace offering, and Mama had made treats for everyone. They didn’t really celebrate Christmas, but Mama had decorated little gingerbread man cookies for her friends, even making one with a fox tail for Shippou and another with tiny pointed dog ears for Inuyasha. They were sitting at the very top of her backpack, wrapped carefully in a knotted cloth so they wouldn’t be crushed.

Kagome looked around, hoping to see a flash of red and white in the bare trees. She’d thought that even if Inuyasha hadn’t been at the well to meet her as he usually was, he might come to find her as she got closer to the village. She was sure he would know she was here in the past – there was no fooling his hanyou sense of smell. That proved it then, he was still angry at her. She was torn between being annoyed that he hadn’t wanted to listen to her explanation, and sad that she’d upset him when she really hadn’t meant to. This time it truly wasn’t her fault!

One of the girls who had been chosen to dance for the blessing of at a winter festive market on the grounds of a neighbouring shrine had twisted her ankle, and her mother had suggested Kagome as a last minute replacement because she was a similar size to fit the costume and already knew the steps. Inuyasha had arrived at the shrine in the afternoon, after her three days of study time as agreed. He’d jumped through her bedroom window only to find her dressed in borrowed miko robes, her usually riotous dark wavy hair tamed into a low ponytail, and her yellow backpack nowhere in sight.

She’d tried to explain but he’d become angry; irrationally so, she’d thought. Her gut twisted at the memory, and she sighed heavily. They’d been getting on so much better recently; yes they still argued, but they were quick little spats about nothing, over in moments. She’d seen Miroku and Sango exchanging pointed looks, and even Shippou had commented on how well they were getting on.

They had gotten into the habit of sitting closer together near the fire in the evenings before bedtime. Close, but not quite close enough. Anyone outside their little group might have mistaken his hesitance for dislike, but she knew him.  When she wasn’t looking, or when Inuyasha thought she wasn’t, she could see the way his eyes lingered on her, a softness in his expression that wasn’t there usually. He would allow her to brush his arm casually, or even touch his shoulder when she wanted his attention. He would positively melt when she hugged him, his twitching nose pressed into her shoulder. Those looks and his increasing receptiveness to her touch had given her a glimmer of hope, where once she’d pushed all her tender thoughts and feelings for Inuyasha aside, because let’s face it, she thought wryly, kicking a stone with some force, his heart was already spoken for, no matter how she felt about it.

They hadn’t seen Kikyou for some time. She could tell Inuyasha felt anxious about that; Kikyou had a track record of going off and doing things on her own, getting herself hurt in the process. Kagome guessed that when Inuyasha saw her dressed in traditional miko robes earlier this afternoon, he’d been reminded of Kikyou. He’d been so upset… Even Mama’s gentle explanation that Kagome was only doing this as a favour to her and would be delayed a few hours at most had failed to appease him, and he’d departed through the well in a snarling whirlwind of white and red.

A sudden flash and rumble made her jump, and she turned to see ominously dark storm clouds approaching quickly, a shadow of heavy rain below them. She groaned. Could this day get any worse? She’d left her jacket and umbrella behind. She had nothing to keep herself dry. And if her bag got wet, most things inside would be okay, but the cookies Mama had made so carefully, and that Kagome was really looking forward to giving to everyone, would be ruined!

She was midway between the well and the village. She didn’t think she’d be able to make it back to the village before the rain arrived, but she might be able to make it to the Goshinboku; hopefully its wide branches would give her enough shelter to stay mostly dry until the storm passed.

Hugging her backpack to her front to protect it from stray raindrops, but not so tightly that she’d crush the cookies Mama made, she veered off the well trodden path and sprinted towards the tall tree in a direct line, heedless of the sharp twigs scratching her bare legs as she passed. Heavy drops landed on her back, and the rumbling of thunder increased. The downpour began seconds after she’d started running, and within moments Kagome was drenched from head to toe, cold and wet as the rain came down harder and harder, strong wind whipping the water sideways. She hunched her body protectively over her backpack as she ran, finally arriving at the god tree a few minutes later.

It may have only been a few minutes, but by the time she got there, Kagome could barely feel her extremities and was bitterly regretting forgetting her jacket. She dumped the backpack in the driest spot on the ground, and leaned back against the tree, panting after her quick sprint, her teeth chattering in the cold. She tried not to think of her mother’s warnings about standing under tall trees in thunderstorms. This was the Goshinboku, and if it was still there in her time, that meant it had never been struck by lightning, right?

She twisted her long dark hair, heavy with rain, squeezing out as much water with cold numbed fingers as she could, then wrung out the hem of her pleated skirt. Her thin shirt was clinging to her like a second skin, and she couldn’t stop shivering. She felt so cold that if she’d had dry clothes to get changed into, she wouldn’t have hesitated to strip off out in the open, but she had nothing. She reached into her pocket with numb fingers to see if she at least had a handkerchief to dry her face, but found only paper. Oh! She smoothed it out, a blush pinking her cheeks as she read the koi mikuju fortune again.

Dai-kichi! The person you await comes from a distant place. Be bold! It would be good for you to send them a message.

The neighbouring shrine where she’d danced was dedicated to Izanagi and Izanami, and was famous for giving fortunes for love and marriage. She’d decided to take a fortune by lottery with the other dancers after they’d finished as a bit of fun, shaking the box to choose a numbered chopstick, and choosing a printed paper fortune from the appropriately numbered wooden drawer.

This was the first time she’d drawn a fortune that had the greatest blessing on it – at best, she usually drew a future blessing, and once before an exam, she’d drawn dai-kyou, great curse. She’d tied that one onto a pine tree on the shrine grounds to leave the bad luck behind as fast as possible, unwilling to take the chance that it might come true, shaking her fingers to flick away any lingering misfortune. But this fortune had given her the best of all possible outcomes for romance. Not that she really believed in these of course, it was just for fun. But still…

She smiled despite her increasing shivers as she traced her fingers over the printed fortune, picturing a dog eared boy with white flowing hair and amber eyes. Inuyasha definitely fit the description of ‘comes from a distant place’ – you couldn’t get more distant than five hundred years into the past. But what sort of message would she want to send him? She closed her eyes, folding her numb fingers gently around the tiny slip of paper.

“Inuyasha”, she said quietly, while the thunder boomed and the rain fell in sheets around her, splashing on the ground nearby. Thankfully, even though the tree had lost most of its leaves before winter, the thick lattice of overlapping branches above her was protecting her from most of the rain.

She let her mind wander, trying to think warm thoughts as if they could help ease her shivers and chattering teeth. It felt good to think about him here, in this place where they first met. Be bold, the fortune had said. She wished she could touch him like she wanted to, increase those small moments of intimacy they currently shared to those of a lover. To be able to kiss him like she did in her dreams, and never let him go. She imagined he was standing in front of her, and gathered her thoughts, trying to think what she would say in an ideal world, where he was free to return her feelings.

Kagome’s voice was soft but clear. “Inuyasha, I wish I could tell you out loud how I really feel. I know that you’ve promised yourself to Kikyou; you’ve cared for her for a long time. She comes first in your affections and you made a promise to her; your honour is important to you. I understand. But…”, she took a deep breath in, then blew out a quavering sigh, “I wish things could be different. I said I wanted to stay by your side, and that hasn’t changed. I want to stay with you forever, not just as a friend, but as… as a wife. To truly be your partner in all things. I wish that you wanted to stay by my side too.”

The sudden thud in front of her made her squeak in surprise, and if she wasn’t already leaning against the trunk of the tree, she would have fallen. Her eyes flew open, only to see the scowling face of Inuyasha close to hers.

“Idiot!” he grumbled. “What are you doing just standing there drippin’ in a fucking rainstorm when you should be gettin’ dry!”

He’d heard what she said. He’d been moping in the Goshinboku when he saw her running towards the tree to avoid the sudden storm, ready to jump down to help her if she tripped, because if there was something to trip over, Kagome would do it. Hell, she sometimes tripped when there was nothing there. He’d winced as he’d seen the scratches on her legs, the small amount of blood washed away by the heavy rain, but he hadn’t planned on jumping down when she’d made it to the tree. He was still mulling over the sight of Kagome in those miko robes, unable to get his thoughts in order.

But then she’d spoken, just loud enough for him to hear her over the storm. His heart was beating faster now after hearing her heartfelt words, and his own heart felt full to overflowing, but he had absolutely no idea what to do about it.

He’d felt drawn to Kagome since the moment they met, right here in front of this tree over a year ago; not in ideal circumstances it was true, but now he couldn’t remember a time when he hadn’t wanted her to be part of his life. He didn’t want to remember. She inspired him to be better without even trying. He wanted to protect her, everything about her. His Kagome was headstrong and  determined, with a temper to match, but she also caring and generous to a fault, and had a bad habit of wearing her heart on her sleeve for all to see. She could be easily hurt, and he knew that a lot of the time, that was his fault. She was inherently good, and he was coming to recognise, beautiful, both inside and out. The way she affected him seemed to come from her very soul.

He’d known that his feelings toward Kagome had been changing, but it was so gradual that he didn’t recognise them at first. It felt natural for them to be close together, and it was only when she was apart from him that he realised how much he needed her. Her laugh, her smile, her touch, her scent, the soft curves of her body as she pushed herself against his side as they sat by the fire. It was getting harder to ignore the instincts in the back of his mind that wanted him to take her, make her his, so that she could never leave. But what did Kagome want? Could she really want to bind herself to a hanyou? What she’d said just now – it seemed the answer was yes. But did he dare ask her? Act on his instincts?

Inuyasha’s cheeks heated at that thought, and he hid his consternation by dropping to a crouch next to Kagome’s bag and sorting haphazardly through her backpack, looking for something to dry her with. He ignored Kagome’s sudden shriek as she pounced to save the cookies, putting the cloth wrapped package safely out of his reach. He pulled out the old towel she usually used when they stopped to bathe, dropping it over her head and briskly drying as much of her as he could, concentrating mainly on her hair and face, her body still shivering violently, while she protested his rough treatment. All the negative thoughts were coming back now that she was here in front of him, and he did his best to push them away.

“Where’s your other clothes?” he asked, dropping the now damp towel on the ground, and flicking his gaze away from her. “You need to get dry or you’re gonna get sick.”

“I didn’t bring anything else”, she whispered, not meeting his eyes. “I wanted to bring extra things for you to make it up to you, and because I was in a rush I forgot.” Tentatively, her hand reached out, the slim delicate fingers brushing against his sleeve. “Inuyasha, I’m sorry I made you angry. I guess seeing me in the miko outfit wasn’t what you expected.”

An irritated grumbling sound left him. The scent of her sorrow was making him feel awkward and guilty. He knew he’d overreacted, but the hurt he’d felt at the time had been visceral, and no amount of explanation had soothed him. He was also worried by the blue tint to her lips and her pale skin. He needed to take her back to her mother’s house so she could get dry clothing. The rain was beginning to slow now; as soon as it stopped, he’d take her back. The last thing he needed was having to fret about her getting sick, especially with the colder weather approaching. And besides, he needed her to wear something else. Kagome’s white school shirt was soaked completely through, the thin material hugging her every curve. He’d been trying to avert his eyes, but they kept flicking back to her as if they had a mind of their own.

“That wasn’t why I was angry”, he huffed, tucking his hands into his sleeves. “Not exactly anyway.”

Kagome sighed, her eyes still lowered. “It’s okay to be worried about her, Inuyasha. I know we haven’t seen Kikyou for a while, but I’m sure she will be fine. She’s strong and determined, and…”

Inuyasha placed his hand firmly over her mouth. “Just shut up for a minute will ya? I’m tryin’ ta figure out how ta say somethin’.

Kagome’s brows contracted in irritation, her brown eyes narrowing; he could feel those soft lips of hers moving into a pout under his palm, and it made him lose his train of thought entirely, his breath leaving him in a loud huff.

“Just… it weren’t anythin’ to do with Kikyou. I do care about Kikyou, and I don’t want anythin’ bad to happen to her, but I don’t think of her the way I think about you. I never see her when I look at you, okay?” he growled. “Seein’ you dressed like that reminded me that you have a place in the future where I don’t belong! That you have people there who need you too, and you don’t have to come back here at all if you don’t wanna.”

He sighed, twitching his gaze away from hers and lowering his ears at the thought of what he was about to admit. “I just started to think about what it’s gonna be like when this is all over, when we beat Naraku and you’ve got no reason to come through the well anymore.” Kagome’s eyes filled with tears, and he shook his head.

“Don’t cry!” Inuyasha moved his hand away from her mouth to cup her cheek, wiping away a single tear that spilled down her cheek with his thumb. “In your time, you have a home, and a family, and it’s safe there. People respect you Kagome – that’s what I saw when you were in those miko robes. I got nothin’ to offer you. No home, no family.”

His voice became husky as he looked into her wide brown eyes. “I… I heard what ya said just now Kagome.” He made a soothing noise at her startled intake of breath. “If you stayed here with me as a hanyou’s wife, people would scorn you. You stayin’ in the future is the only sensible thing.” His thumb rubbed over her cheek gently as she made a sound of distress. “So why does it hurt so much when I think about that? My chest aches Kagome, when I think of my future without you in it.”

He was quite unprepared for when she launched herself at him, her arms flinging up to go around his neck tightly, the wet fabric cold against the uncovered skin of his neck. “I don’t want to go Inuyasha!” she cried. “I want to be with you! I love you!”

Inuyasha buried his nose in close to her neck, breathing in that scent, his arms wrapping around her waist to pull her tightly against him. No other person’s personal scent affected him like Kagome’s did, and he couldn’t get enough of it.

“I want you to stay Kagome. I can barely last three days with you there away from me, let alone fucking forever”, he said gruffly, sighing against the soft smooth skin of her throat. “I know it would be better for you if you didn’t, but I’m just a selfish bastard. I need you.”

She was racked with another violent fit of shivering, despite her proximity to him, so with a soft brush of his lips against her pale skin, he regretfully pushed her back for a moment. “But you won’t be stayin’ anywhere if ya die because ya catch a chill, stupid. I can’t believe you came without anythin’ warm to wear. You’re meant ta be the smart one. Here.” He undid the ties to his fire rat and shrugged it off, ready to hand it over to her, but her close proximity to him in her wet clothes had him gulping.

She may as well have not been wearing a shirt at all. The rain had made the white cotton transparent where it clung to her, and the scrap of lacy white cloth she wore underneath did nothing to hide the imprint of her nipples against the damp fabric. Inuyasha found himself staring, eyes following the trail of water from her dark hair, down her slim neck and into the green collar of her shirt where it was plastered to her wet skin. The thicker fabric of her green skirt was so heavy with water it was hanging dangerously low on her hips, leaving little to the imagination – he could see more of that white lace fabric peeking out over the top of her waistband. All he wanted was to peel her out of her clothes and taste the droplets of water glistening on her skin.

His eyes moved upwards, connecting with hers, the smoldering heat in his gaze full of want. She glanced down, now aware of why his eyes kept straying downwards, glued to the see-through material, and she squeaked, crossing her arms across her chest in sudden embarrassment.

“I’m sorry”, he said gruffly, averting his eyes and draping his suikan over her head and shoulders, pulling the edges shut. “This should keep you a bit warmer. Although you need to get out of those wet clothes. When the rain stops I’ll take you back through the well and you can have a hot bath and get warm again.”

Kagome smiled at him shyly, then bit her lip, holding the fire rat robe open again. What was that English saying they’d learnt in class recently? Something about being brave to get what you want?

Fortune favours the bold.

Kagome took a deep breath. “Inuyasha, I don’t want you to get cold and wet too. I’m sure we could both fit under here, if we were a little closer.”

“Kagome”, he groaned. “I’m tryin’ ta do the right thing here.”

“So am I”, she whispered. “Please Inuyasha. I feel warm when I’m close to you. Help me stay warm.”

With another groan he sat down, pulling her with him. He leaned his back against the bark of the tree, directly under where he’d been pinned by an arrow so many years ago. Now it was the weight of Kagome sitting in his lap keeping him pinned, and he knew exactly which one he preferred. Kagome squirmed in his lap, getting comfortable, her legs astride his, her hands grasping fistfuls of his kosode. His feet were getting wet from the rain, but he could care less. His lap was full of the girl he wanted to stay beside forever, and that was enough for him.

“C’mere you”, he said, his voice husky, adjusting his suikan around her head and shoulders to keep her warm. “Snuggle in tight if ya don’t want me to look at you.”

“M-maybe I want you to… to look at me, I mean.” He raised a dark eyebrow at her and she grinned mischeviously, despite her blue tinged lips and chattering teeth. “And maybe I wouldn’t mind if you did more than look.” Her cold hands tugged at his fingers near her shoulders and placed them low on her hips, and she smiled encouragingly at him. “You can touch, if you want.”

He couldn’t help the needy rumbling growl that vibrated in his chest. “I do want. Tell me if I do anythin’ you don’t like, okay?”

Kagome nodded, and his fingers traipsed up and down her sides over the wet fabric of her clothing as she gazed at him with wide eyes. She was beautiful, even like this, with wet straggly hair, and chattering teeth. Even looking like a drowned rat didn’t seem to be enough to dampen her light. His thumbs brushed the sides of her breasts, and he watched her expression, waiting for her to tell him to stop, but she only whimpered slightly, her thighs tensing against his, her bottom wiggling enticingly in his lap.

That did it. His fingers grew bolder, moving towards the front of her breasts, drawing small circles over the damp cotton of her shirt, her already hard nipples taut as he tweaked them gently, causing even more goosebumps to ripple across her skin. With a growl, his hands moved swiftly to her behind, pushing her tight against him. He rained soft licks and kisses on her face and neck, coaxing a quiet moan to fall from her lips, before he moved up to capture the sound and plunder the sweetness of her mouth.

At first he kissed her gently, a tender brush of his lips against hers, his mouth soft and pliable and hungry. She tasted of rainwater, and something sweeter. Kagome sighed as she melted against him, angling her head to deepen the kiss, her fingers slipping into his long mane of hair to pull slightly at the nape of his neck. He opened his mouth against hers, needing to taste more of her, their tongues touching tentatively at first, then more passionately as they grew in confidence.

Inuyasha growled, a low and needy rumble into her mouth, the sound bubbling up without warning; an uncontrollable reaction to her closeness. He could feel Kagome smiling against his lips at the sound, and he couldn’t help but match her with a grin of his own, his sharp canine teeth grazing her bottom lip. He pulled her in tighter, deepening the kiss until they were both gasping for air. With reluctance he finally lifted his mouth from hers, cursing his need to breathe, but smirking at her disappointed whine.

He was quick to silence that unhappiness, her sound of upset replaced by heated sighs as he bent his head to claim her neck, grazing her pale skin lightly with his pointed teeth. Her hands found their way around his torso, fingers finding purchase in the rough cloth at his shoulder blades. A cold gust of wind hit them, and Kagome shivered violently, dragging them both out of the moment, her teeth chattering despite the fire rat draped over her shoulders and the warmth of his body heat against her front.

He pressed his nose into her neck, licking the damp skin. “I need to get you back through the well Kagome. You’re gonna get sick.”

Her teeth chattered harder. “I c-could just t-take off my w-wet things”, she said, cuddling in tightly against him.

“Sure, right before you get into a hot bath. I’m takin’ you home.”

He pulled back, taking a moment to just look at her, drinking in the sight of her eyes shining like jewels in the shadow created by his fire rat, her slim body backlit by sudden flashes of lightning. Distant thunder rumbled around them, the previous downpour now a sprinkle, drifting like soft mist.

He watched with amusement as Kagome carefully placed the wrapped cloth parcel in the top of her backpack again, hampered by the hugeness of his suikan and her numb fingers. He moved to help, and she pushed his fingers away. “You’re too rough. Mama worked hard to make these for everyone, and I don’t want them all broken. As soon as I’ve gotten warm again, we’re coming back so I can give them to everyone.”

She finally managed to get her backpack over her shoulders, and he bent down to allow her to climb onto his back, his hands caressing the soft skin of her thighs as he began to sprint back to the well. She cuddled in close to him, enjoying his warmth.

“Of course you’re comin’ back”, he grinned. “And you’d better not take too long in that bath, or I’m comin’ in after you.”

Fortune favours the bold.

She leaned forward to whisper in his ear, her teeth still chattering, but her voice full of promise. “Maybe I want you to.”

[greekowl87]

Fic: It Must Be a Christmas X-File!

A/N: Post-ep ‘How the Ghosts Stole Christmas’ with mentions of ‘Christmas Carol and ‘Emily.’ I don’t think this is a stand out awesome fic or my best work, but I wanted to get something done for Christmas. I hope you all enjoy it. This isn’t how I imagined it turning out but with no real direction and written with less than 24 hours with holiday activities, I’m happy with it. Still, I hope you like it. Fluff. Implied smut but I just didn’t have time to get into it. P.S. No beta so apologies for crappy dialogue and typos :( I hope it doesn’t suck too badly.

Tagging @today-in-fic @suitablyaggrieved @improlificinsarcasm @baronessblixen

.....

Scully parked her car and turned off the ignition as Mulder leaned forward to glance out the windshield. The snow earlier had bee light and fleeting. Now, the snow came down in big flakes like cotton balls sticking to everything. She chuckled lightly and remarked, “So much for a white Christmas. I bet the weathermen were surprised.”

“They were calling for rain, it was thundering last night, it was just a flurry, clear today, and now a full-on blizzard,” he commented dryly. “Remember the blizzard of 95?”

“Don’t remind me and you’re not driving home in this weather either, Mulder.”

“Aw, Scully, I’ve already caused up enough time and ruined probably enough Christmases for you. Bill didn’t seem to happy to see my face this year. Your mother tolerated me at best. Tara was Switzerland. Your nephew was cute though.” He smiled. “But I have already overstayed my welcome.”

“Mulder,” Scully said, “I was glad to have you there with me. I told you this before, I wouldn’t want it any other days. Come on. You can crash on the couch tonight.”

“Scully,” he countered.

“I’m not giving you a choice. Apparently, we shot each other, I don’t want to shoot you again for not listening to my wisdom. Besides, I really don’t mind. It’s Christmas after all, Mulder.”

He glanced at back out the windshield as the snowfall conjured up harsh New England winters he had experienced as a child. “Okay.” Mulder bit his lip and smiled. “Let me go grab my overnight bag. I’ll meet you at your door.”

“I’ll see you upstairs.”

The snow crunched under their shoes as Scully made her way cautiously up the unshoveled walkway to her apartment, warily watching for ice. She unlocked the main door and rode the elevator upwards to her third-floor apartment. She unlocked the apartment door, turned on the foyer light, and dropped her keys onto the table next to the door. In the corner by her desk, a small Christmas tree sat lightly decorated. “At least the timer came on,” she murmured to herself.

Ever since her father’s passing on Christmas a few years earlier, she tended not to decorate as much for Christmas. The tree was enough, maybe a wreath if she felt like putting in extra effort, but for the most part, she had just kept up a tree. Even then the decorations seemed less and less each year. Scully kicked off her boots by the door and instantly lost three inches. She heard Mulder’s familiar footsteps. She opened the door slightly and he pushed it open.

“It’s really coming down out there, Scully. If it keeps up like this, we might have at least six inches by tomorrow morning.”

“See, it is a good thing you’re spending the night.”

He carried his overnight bag over his shoulder and smirked. 

“What?”

“I always forget how…”

“Short?”

“For lack of a better word?”

She was smiling at him and Mulder shivered. She locked the door behind him and nodded to the couch. “Go make yourself comfortable. It’s only seven. There’s still five hours of Christmas left,” she told him. “Maybe there’s something on television.”

“A Christmas Story? A Christmas Carol? The Grinch Who Stole Christmas?” 

“Go find something, G-man. I’m going to the kitchen to get us something special. Are you hungry at all?”

“I’m good.” Mulder dropped his overnight by the couch and spied the Christmas tree in the corner. “Looks like you decorated less this year, Scully.”

“I don’t see a reason too, ever since dad died. But I’ve always loved Christmas. Ahab would take down the tree first thing day after Christmas.” He could hear the sadness in her voice. “I rebelled in my own little way and kept it up until January 10th give or take.”

“It looks nice,” he commented. “I like it.”

“Thank you,” she called. “I got this bottle that a friend from Quantico brought back from Dublin, Ireland.”

“A bottle of what?”

“Genuine Irish whiskey,” she called in a sing-song voice. “Since you’re not driving anywhere and it’s Christmas, come have a drink with me.”

“Agent Scully,” he crooned. 

“Shut up, Mulder.”

He cast a secretive glance as Scully busied herself in the kitchen and made a quick dash to her small tree. He quickly dug out a small wrapped box that he had hidden weeks before so it would be in view when she would sit. He rushed back to her couch before she could carry the whiskey glasses over to them. “Snow is really coming down out there,” he remarked casually.

“You already said that. I could start a fire. It does get a little drafty in here.”

“I’m fine, Scully. You still have that space heater right?”

“I brought it to the basement after Thanksgiving. Remember when the heat broke?”

“Right. Well, I can show off my Indian Guide skills and do the fire for you.”

“Go right ahead, Master of the Flame.”

Mulder watched her kick off her boots and tuck her legs under her. She rested her arm on the back of the couch and sipped the whiskey amused. He could swear she was flirting with him.   He took a drink of liquid courage himself and started to build a little fire that he could feed the bigger logs into. “Thank you again, Scully, for today.”

“What part of it?”

“All of it. Coming to the haunted house, letting me spend Christmas with you and your family… thanks by the way for defending my maiden honor against Bill…” She laughed. “And now. I really, really mean it. It has been so long since I’ve had a...regular...no...nice, easy Christmas that I have actually enjoyed.”

“And you’re here now, safe from the cold. Baby, it’s cold outside,” she teased. “Come back here, Mulder. The fire started. Come enjoy your drink.”

He dusted his hands and jeans off before going back to the couch where Scully watched him with a little carefree smile he hadn’t seen in ages. He picked up his glass and sat across from her on the couch. “No place I’d rather be.”

“I wanted to thank you,” she said after a moment of contemplation.

“Why?”

“Why did you invite me out there last night? To a haunted house of Christmas Eve?”

“To investigate…”

“Mulder, you know better than to lie to me.”

“I wanted you there with me. I didn’t want...after last year...I didn’t want you to have to go through it alone.”

“So you used a guise for a fake x-file to get me out there?”

“I know you would come if I asked for your help,” he answered. “I wasn’t sure otherwise.”

Mulder swished the amber liquid in the glass and took a sip. Scully, touched by his gesture, took his hand and squeezed it. “Thank you.”

He relaxed and nodded. “Hey, I think Santa left you something under the tree. He must’ve visited you last night when you were over at my place.”

She narrowed his eyes suspiciously at him and turned to look at her tree. A small box with red wrapping paper and a gold bow. “What the hell?” She set her drink on the coffee table and got up to inspect it. “Mulder…” she said. “I thought we agreed not to exchange gifts.”

“We did and I now have an awesome book to read thanks to you. What does it say?”

She shook her head, a grin forming ear to ear as she brought it back to the couch to open. “To the world’s best G-woman, who continues to save my ass; Love, Mulder.” She sighed and shook her head. “You really shouldn’t have. I have nothing for you.”

“You do, every day.”

Scully took his hand and held it tightly. The air changed between them and she whispered, “Thank you, Mulder.”

“Now, open your present. I picked it out especially for. You myself.” She smiled and carefully picked at the taped edges to open it. Mulder smiled; she took as much time and precision as she did performing one of her autopsies. “Scully, just rip it open.”

“I don’t want to ruin anything.”

“You won’t, it’s in a box!”

Scully ripped the last bit open and she inspected the small silver box. “Mulder?”

“Just open it.”

She opened the box and gasped. “Mulder. Jesus, you really shouldn’t have.”

“I wanted to.” She inspected the two small earrings he had gotten him. Two pearls were surrounded in a thin layer of gold in the shape of a four-leaf clover. “I know you already own a pair of pearl earrings,” he started, “but I wanted to do something a little special.”

“Mulder, they’re lovely.”

“Really?”

“I mean that sincerely. You honestly didn’t have to.”

“I wanted to.”

She closed the box and set it aside. The air changed between them again. “I’m glad you’re here, Mulder,” she whispered. She took his hand again. “Honestly.”

Mulder, feeling emboldened, leaned forward and kissed her softly on the lips. “Sorry for the lack of mistletoe.”

“I’m not complaining.” She gave a small smile. “Except…”

“Except what?”

“I don’t know how I should take that kiss.”

“What do you mean?”

Scully tucked her legs back under her again and she sipped the whiskey contemplatively. “Well, we’re friends...partners?”

“Obviously.”

She licked her lips contemplating her next words. The past few months tumulated through her head: Diana, Antarctica, and  when he said, “You’re my one in five billion.” Those ghosts had assumed that they would be perfect for a murder-suicide because they appeared to be the perfect couple. What were they? His actions were confusing; the new pearl earrings had just given her added to her confusion even more.

“So, where does that leave us?”

“What do you mean?”

“Mulder, you drag me out to a haunted house on Christmas eve, you tell me you don’t want me to go through the holiday alone, and the earrings.”

He narrowed his eyes quizzically. “If you are going to continue to speak riddles and play twenty questions with me, Scully, I might need to get some whiskey.”

“I left it on the counter.” Mulder got up to get the bottle and Scully took the moment to examine the earrings he had just given her. Her heart warmed at the thought and the possibility it could mean more. “I really like the earrings,” she called.

“I’m glad,” he smiled.

She eyed the hefty amount of alcohol he had poured into his glass. “So back to my original question, Mulder. Where does that leave us?”

He watched her momentarily and bent forward to kiss her again more slowly this time. She savored the moment tasting the drops of whiskey on his tongue as he deepened the kiss. He broke away and smiled mischievously. “Does that answer your question?”

“It’s a start.”

“I like flirty Scully,” he remarked.

“I’m not flirty.”

Her cheeks glowed in firelight, either from embarrassment or the alcohol. “It’s both,” he said, seemingly reading his mind. “And yes you are. Whiskey.” He filled up her glass again. “A fire.” He nodded to her fireplace. “And snow.”

“And only one bed,” she finished laughing.

“I can take the couch.”

“Mulder,” she sighed lovingly. “What are we though? Really?”

“Anything you want,” he told her.

Scully tucked her arm behind her neck and rested her head on it. “Six years and you don’t want to go straight to that bed of years and make amazing love?”

“In time,” she said, holding up a hand. “You’re not going anywhere soon with this weather. It’s just...I’ve always wondered, Mulder and after so many years…”

“What?”

“It’s nice to be…”

“Desired? Wanted? Loved?”

“For lack of a better word,” she said. She took a long sip from her drink to hide her flushed cheeks. “I just...I’ve wanted the same thing too, Mulder. The hallway?”

His eyebrows rose, almost surprised. “It’s never too late.”

“I know,” she laughed. She watched him quietly and Mulder recognized the gaze. “So, Christmas miracles?”

“It’s a Christmas miracle,” he laughed. “Can I?”

“What?”

He kissed her again. This time, they abandoned both of their glasses in favor of indulging in the kiss. “Lucky number three,” Mulder whispered. He kissed her again. “You’re not helping if you want to relax.”

“Mulder, now you are just beginning to sound ridiculous.”

Mulder laughed, reaching for both of their glasses. “Merry Christmas, Scully.”

She took it and clinked it against his. “To a Christmas miracle.”

“A Christmas miracle.”

The glasses rang throughout Scully’s Georgetown apartment and they both downed it in one gulp. “Well,” he began, setting both glasses aside, “this honestly feels worse than high school.”

“So how do we…” They both laughed at the awkwardness of the situation. The alcohol only added to it. “Well, as a medical doctor, when a man and a woman…”

“Scully, shut up.”

“What?”

“Let’s finish this conversation elsewhere.”

“Did anyone tell you that you are horrible at innuendo?”

“Only you but I still win your heart right?”

“Always, Mulder.”

He discarded their glasses and offered his hand.

“How many near-deaths do we need?”

“Must need Good to smack us in the head. Come on, Scully.”

“It must be a Christmas X-File,” she mumbled to herself. “Let’s stay here, Mulder.”

“Your couch?”

“Seems fitting,” she whispered. She initiated another kiss. She pulled him closer. “Christmas miracle, Mulder.”

“Christmas miracle, Scully.”

He smiled, lounged back, and Scully opened her last present for that Christmas.

-End.

[sc0tters]

omg I forgot to ask you in my too many questions the first time but for the fic do you want it to be winter themed? I have a mention of a holiday party for Ellie at some point but the fic takes place over a longer period of time but I can totally change that!

~your winter fic anon

I swear I responded to this 😭 I’m so sorry I’m only doing this now!

Honestly I really have no preference for how winter themed it is. Like I want to leave a lot of this up to you because I feel like whatever makes the most sense in your opinion I want you to go with!

[sc0tters]

Hi love! I'm your winter fic exchange writer!

Is it bad that I already have the entire plot of your fic planned out? I need to find time to actually write it but I have the outline written.

You had mentioned that you want reader insert, right? Is that like 100% full stop reader insert only? I have no idea why but my mind has this fic with an OC name Ellie, which I can totally change it to Y/N reader insert if that's what you prefer, I'm just wondering! I might bother you more soon depending on how together I am at any given moment so sorry

Hi love! So glad to have you here

Hearing that you’re excited makes me so happy because I can’t wait to see what it is that you’ll do for this!

In terms of the use of OC or Y/N I read both so go with what you are more comfortable/prefer writing. But I love the name Ellie if that’s the OC you go with!