#|| the snow storm outside has had me tired all day and I need to play things so I can wake up & actually do productive things hi

[muse-stellium]

Me hyper googling au ideas not for rp but bc the sims gameplay be dull of all things

[atlafan]

Wow that other prompt/blurb you did was so good and quick! What about a holiday blurb with softrry and friends to lovers theme during the holiday season mixed with a snow storm somehow haha

a/n: this was a cute prompt, thanks for sending it in!

Warning: fluff, smut-ish

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

This can't be happening. Why right now? This is unbelievable! Of course Y/N's power went out right when she was about to pop brisket in the oven. It takes eight hours to bake because it needs to cook slowly. She's fucked, absolutely fucked. She just had to volunteer to make the main dish for her family's holiday celebration. On top of that, she volunteered to make two kugels, latkes, and bark. She's fucked.

She hates asking people for help, but when she sees her neighbor's lights are still on, she slips her boots onto her feet and heads outside. She nearly slips and falls since there's a sheet of ice underneath the snow that's coming down. Some of it blows back in her face because of the wind. By the time she gets down her own stoop and walks up her neighbor's, she just knows she's going to look like an icicle. She rings the bell a couple of times, and smiles softly when Harry's face appears in the small window the door has.

"Y/N, hi." He knuckles at his eye and yawns.

"I'm so sorry to bother you so early on a Saturday, but my power went out and I was just about to put my brisket in the oven, and now I'm fucked. And I don't feel safe driving to my mom's in this weather. I was wondering if it would be a terrible imposition if I cooked here. I can pay for any of the extra electric or gas or whatever I use."

Harry blinks at her and closes the door in her face. Rude. Harry's never rude to her. He's a very soft and sweet guy. He's a great neighbor. She wouldn't call them close friends, but they're friendly enough that they've hung out and shared a bottle of wine here and there. Just as she's about to start crying, the door opens back up and Harry's got his jacket and boots on.

"Let's go get your stuff." He smiles softly.

"Oh, thank you so much!" She throws her arms around him and gives him a squeeze. He just barely gets his arms around her waist by the time she's pulling away.

He follows her out and into her house. It takes several trips to get all of her things over to Harry's and into his kitchen. She keeps apologizing for needing to take over his kitchen, and she apologizes for the various smells of meat and oil that's about to consume his entire house. He assures her it's fine and offers to help cook.

Harry has a huge crush on Y/N. Ever since she moved in next door six months ago, she's made his heart race. She makes his palms sweat and his knees buckle and his dick hard.

Y/N has a crush on Harry too, but she's much less nervous around him. She figured if he liked her back he would have made a move at this point, so she doesn't let the crush consume her the way it consumes Harry.

"I really appreciate this, Har." She says as she gets the over preheated. How come your power isn't out? You'd think the whole neighborhood would have been affected."

"I have a generator in the basement as a backup since I work from home. I need to be able to stay online to do my job."

"I should really invest in one of those. Do you know how long this snow storm is supposed to last? The street cleaners barely cleaned up the sidewalks from the last one."

"I think it's supposed to snow all day and into the night."

"Fuck. That means the plows will barely be out."

"When do you need to bring all this food to your family?"

"Not until tomorrow night. We're doing a combined Hanukkah and Christmas thing with all our in-laws and stuff. So, I'm not the only one making a fuck ton of food, but still."

"Well, I have snow tires on my car, so I can always give you a lift if you want."

"I couldn't ask you to do that."

"You're not asking." He takes a step towards her. "I'm offering. You can pay me in potato pancakes."

"That seems like a fair compensation to me." She smiles. "I strongly recommend closing your bedroom door."

"Why?"

"Because this brisket has to bake for eight hours, which means your entire house is going to smell like meat. Not to mention, once I get the oil going for the latkes...the place will smell like meat and fried potatoes. It can be kind of a lot."

"Right, I'll go close some doors. What else do you need to make?"

"Kugel, latkes, and bark. The brisket is already dressed and ready to go into the oven."

"Can I help make anything? I'm pretty good at peeling potatoes."

"You're already doing so much. I'm ruining your weekend."

"Y/N," he places his hands on her shoulders, "you aren't ruining my weekend, I promise. I like when we get to hang out. It's not like we haven't cooked together before. It'll be like when we made those homemade pizzas."

"Okay." She sighs with relief. "Then I'd love your help peeling potatoes."

Harry goes upstairs to close the bathroom and bedroom doors, then comes down and makes sure to close his office door as well. He comes back to the kitchen and smiles at Y/N fondly. She's got her apron on and she's mixing ingredient together into a mixing bowl. He washes his hands in the sink before putting his own apron on and grabbing his peeler.

"Wanna listen to some music?" He asks her.

"That would be great. Can we listen to holiday music?"

"Alexa, play my holiday mix on Spotify." Harry tells the Echo.

"Playing Harry's Holiday Mix on Spotify." The device responds.

"That's so cute, you have your own playlist." She teases him, bumping her hip to his.

"Laugh all you want, but some holiday songs are really fucking annoying. I prefer the old classics."

"I completely agree. I hate new songs by artists who are clearly just trying to make some extra money. I think Baby, It's Cold Outside is one of my favorites."

"It's one of my favorites too."

The two work in a comfortable silence, humming and whistling along to the songs that come in through the speaker. Having help is proving to take a lot of stress away from Y/N. Thanks to Harry, she's able to make the latkes in half the time it usually takes her. They clean all of the dishes up before Y/N takes out everything she wants to use for the bark.

"Okay, I've got dark chocolate, milk chocolate, and white chocolate. Those will be the bases. I have marshmallows, graham crackers, candy canes, almonds, and mint extract."

"I'd also like to be paid in bark. I have a horrible sweet tooth."

"Done and done."

Making bark is like a dirty job. It's messy and sticky, and your hands always get covered in chocolate. Y/N explained it's easier to swirl the fixings in with her fingers.

"Do you have enough room in your freezer for all of this? We need to lay it flat."

"Yup, plenty of room." Harry opens the freezer door and helps Y/N had the bark, that's spread out on wax paper, inside.

"Ugh, my hands are a mess." She looks down at them, then takes a finger into her mouth to suck on. "God, I love chocolate."

"Yeah." Harry blushes, wishing he could suck on Y/N's fingers.

"Thank you so much for all your help. You're like my hero today."

"Oh, I was happy to help. It was fun cooking with you. Um...now that we're done and the kugels are still in the over with the meat, would you want to hang out and watch holiday movies?"

"That sounds great. I'd love to."

"Cool." He smiles.

Y/N gets cozy on Harry's sectional and snuggles up under one of his blankets as he queues up a movie. They decide on Home Alone. Harry sits by Y/N, but not too close. He doesn't want to make her uncomfortable.

"Come closer so we can share the blanket." She suggests. "You know, if you want. I mean, I'm sure you have other blankets, but-"

Harry's already moving and spreading the blanket over his legs. He puts an arm around Y/N's shoulders pulls her in closer to his side.

"Shh, the movie's starting." He smirks down at her.

The two stay cozy and giggle as they watch the movie.

"You're good at cuddling." She tells him randomly. "You're like a furnace, it's nice."

"Glad you think so." He swallows thickly. "Can I confess something to you?"

"Sure." She looks up at him.

"I've wanted to do this with you for a while..."

"What, watch Home Alone?"

"No, be this close to you, like, cuddle."

"Oh." Her cheeks flush. "Really?"

"Yeah. I...I don't want to make things weird between us because I like being your friend, but...I sort of like you more than that."

"You do?" She sits up a little more.

"It's totally fine if you don't like me as more-"

"Harry, shut up for a second." She smiles big at him. "I like you as more than a friend too."

Y/N wraps her arms around Harry's neck and tackles him down on the couch before kissing him. He kisses her back, smiling as he does so, making it a little hard to kiss. They both giggle and Y/N pulls back just a hair.

"Was that okay? I probably should have asked to kiss you first." She says.

"It was more than okay." His hands slide down to her hips. "You helped take the edge off. You make me so nervous."

"Aww." She pouts. "You're so cute." She leans in to kiss him again, giving his bottom lip a small suck. "Would you like to come with me tomorrow night? Like, come inside and enjoy the festivities?"

"I'd love to."

Y/N slots her mouth back over Harry's, and licks inside. Their tongues mold together, and they moan against one another. Y/N rolls her hips down, grinding against Harry's crotch.

"I should've known you liked me. You were so devious for wearing grey sweatpants around me."

"I didn't do anything on purpose." His hands slide down to her ass, giving her cheeks a squeeze.

"Mhm." She rolls her eyes playfully. She kisses on his neck and rubs herself against Harry again, this time getting a better feel of his erection. They move their hips in circles against one another.

"Y/N?"

"Yeah?"

"This is really fun, but we shouldn't move too fast...physically."

"Did you think I was going to let you take my pants off?" She laughs. "Baby, our clothes are staying on today. But...I wouldn't be mad if you made me come in my pants."

"I wouldn't be mad if you made me come in mine either."

[thefreaksrunthisshow]

Darling, It’s a Winter Wonderland

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Reader, Eddie Munson x You

Summary: Decorating for the holidays with your best friend and roommate Eddie Munson leads to some boundaries being overstepped when the power gets knocked out by a winter storm.

Rating: Mature

Warnings: Friends to lovers, dry humping, dry orgasm, masturbation, thigh riding, if I missed anything lemme know!

Word Count: 2,690

Masterlist

“Please explain again , why are we decorating the house for the holidays? It’s too much work to just be up for a month!” Eddie huffs, his eyebrows furling together as he untangles a string of Christmas lights.

“Because I like feeling festive!” you giggle, holding up two wreaths trying to decide which one to put on the door to your room and which one to hang on your front door. “And, I never complain when you go all out for Halloween!”

“Touché,” Eddie smiles and finger guns toward you before directing his attention back to the tangled mess of lights. He curses at the difficulty of getting out of a particularly stubborn knot.

“Plus, here. I made a special wreath for your door.”

Eddie takes the wreath you held out to him. “Bats and skulls with red and green Christmas ornaments? Fuck yeah!” He fist pumps and you laugh as he jumps up and rushes to attach the wreath to his bedroom door.

Eddie has been your best friend for as long as you can remember. Ever since that day in kindergarten when you had won against him in a race across the playground, the two of you had been inseparable. Now, as college freshmen, you were roommates in your own little apartment down the street from your school and you couldn’t ask for anyone better to live with. In fact, the two of you were pretty inseparable; Eddie would barely even let you go to the bathroom alone and there had been many nights where he sat down on the floor chatting away while you took a shower.

Eddie’s heavy footsteps returning to the living room wake you out of your daze.

“The snow’s starting. How many inches are we supposed to get?” you ask, peeking through the blinds to view the snow drifting down outside.

“Six, I believe,” Eddie says nonchalantly, not looking up as he sorts through the Christmas tree ornaments and attaches hooks to them.

“Fuck, we are going to be snowed in aren’t we?”

“Probably.”

“Ugh!” you groan. “Thank god we stocked up on groceries yesterday.”

“I fucking hate the snow,” Eddie shivers just thinking about it.

“Same,” you agree, collapsing onto the couch.

“Oh! Where do you want these lights?” Eddie asks, holding up the newly untangled lights with a smile. He had almost forgotten he had finished untangling them since you had distracted him by handing him his snazzy new Christmas wreath. He was always like that; forgetting to finish one thing when something else came his way and distracted him. You are pretty certain he has a raging case of ADHD but the bastard won’t go get any help for himself.

“We can finish up tomorrow. I’m tired.”

‘... and horny,’ you think, not daring to say it out loud.

Apparently, you didn’t even have to say it, something about the faraway look in your eyes tells Eddie all he needs to know.

“Oh, come on.” Eddie hums your name. “I know that look. Who were you supposed to bang tonight?”

“Fuck off, Eddie!” you scowl. Of course, Eddie is correct. You did have a date tonight and planned on getting laid but your phone had buzzed early this morning with a text calling it off. Whether they had canceled due to the snow or because they felt things weren’t working out, you don’t know.

“Woah! Easy there!” Eddie throws up his hands defensively. “You know I’m right,” he taunts with a wink.

“I hate you.”

Eddie dramatically falls to the ground where he pretends he’s bleeding out. “No, you don’t! You know you love me!” he exclaims, through narrowed eyes still lying on the floor. His tongue falls out of his mouth as he plays dead.

“Whatever, Eddie,” you huff.

Eddie sits down on the couch next to you as you pull yourself up into a seated position with your arms holding your legs to your chest. “I could… help you out,” he mumbles, his eyes flickering to you and then to the floor.

“Ed, that’s unnecessary,” you say, waving him off but his offer has you squeezing your thighs together a bit and he takes notice. “I’m a big girl, I can take care of myself.”

“I don’t doubt that you can. These walls are pretty thin, sweetheart. I’ve heard you plenty of times. I just figured I’d offer,” he shrugs with a little chuckle. He pats his lap, “Come here if you wanna, otherwise go take care of it yourself,” he smirks.

You shake your head; you know you shouldn’t but it’s been too long. You try to say no and wander off to your room, but your body seems to have a mind of its own right now.

“Fine,” you huff, straddling him. Your hips immediately begin rocking into him, searching for some relief.

“That’s right. Be a good girl and use me,” Eddie whispers into your ear and his words light a fire deep within you. He knows exactly what he is doing to you and his own breathing grows a bit irregular as you continue grinding on him. He does his best to hold back his own hips from bucking along in rhythm with yours but he fails.

You close your eyes and focus on the growing sensation in your stomach as you feel Eddie’s hard cock rub against your clit. Even through the layers of clothing, the pressure feels so good that you let out a little moan. The sound is music to Eddie’s ears and he has to swallow down his own moan out of fear of scaring you off. He doesn’t know if you’ll ever take him up on this opportunity again and he’s sure as hell going to savor every moment of it.

“Fuck, this feels so good,” you mutter. You bury your face in Eddie’s neck as you approach your climax before pulling back with a jolt as it pulses through you. You ride out your orgasm on his thigh with your forehead resting against his, your eyes screwed shut and your mouth slightly agape.

Your euphoria doesn’t last long and it quickly turns into a bit of panic as you practically jump off of him when you feel a bit of your climax gushing out of you and begins to seep through your pants. You sprint to the shower hoping that Eddie hasn’t noticed, but he decides to follow you anyway.

“Where you running off to?” he jokes but there’s an underlying tone of worry in his voice. “Was it that bad?” He blocks your way to your bedroom so you can’t get to your bathroom within it.

“I need to shower, Ed.” You attempt to brush him off; you’re embarrassed that you just got off on your best friend's lap and that you actually liked it so much that you require a shower now.

“Shit. Are you a squirter? Fuck, I never knew that about you,” he taunts, licking his lips and eyeing you up and down with a seriousness you can’t quite place.

“That is none of your business,” you snarkily reply as you push past him and lock yourself in your bathroom for a quick shower.

Eddie can’t help himself; as soon as you are out of his sight he retreats to his room and immediately shoves his hand down his pants to take care of his leaking cock. He digs around in his bedside table and lathers himself up generously with lube, pretending that he’s coated in your slick. He works himself mercilessly, pumping his length quickly. He’s never come in his pants from just dry humping before but your pretty face had him holding his breath so that he wouldn’t. He comes with a loud grunt and his come streaks out hot and thick into his underwear. He takes a moment to calm his shaky breaths before he tidies himself up and hopes to god that he can play it cool and you won’t notice the sweat-soaked hair around his face.

To his relief, you don’t seem to notice when you arrive back to the living room fresh out of the shower.

“Come on, let’s get back to decorating. You could use a distraction.” Eddie pulls you off the couch despite your protests and shoves the Christmas lights into your hands. He himself could also use the distraction before he does something he might regret and changes the status of your friendship forever.

~~~

“All done?”

“All done.”

“Darling, it’s a winter wonderland in here and it’s making me sick to look at it,” Eddie playfully gags.

You can’t help but laugh at his theatrics, it’s not that decorated. All you did was put up the tree, fitted with white lights and ornaments, a Christmas wreath on the front door, some lights strung up in the hallway, a set of decorative placemats and dish sets on the table, and of course the two wreaths on both of your bedroom doors; it’s not as over the top as Eddie is making it out to be.

Eddie is sitting down next to you on the floor as you finish stacking up the gifts under the Christmas tree when suddenly, a loud POP goes off outside and the house goes dark. Your eyes meet in the darkness, and you both rush to the window to see what is happening. Peering through the blinds reveals that one of the power poles on the street seems to have been knocked down and the trees along your road are swaying violently in the wind.

“Jesus H. Christ! Really?” Eddie shouts, clearly annoyed.

“Shit,” you mumble. “Ed, it’s late. How soon do you think they can send a crew out to get this fixed?”

“I’d say first thing tomorrow morning… if we are lucky.”

“Fuck. It’s freezing outside and we don’t have a generator. We are going to freeze to death tonight. We better go put on some more layers,” you say rolling your eyes.

Once you've put on several more layers of clothing, you and Eddie are both sitting on the couch, cozy under blankets and eating a warm and quick dinner that Eddie prepared with his propane stovetop out of his van, which he usually uses when you go camping together. It’s really surprising how quickly your house chilled down without the heat on and how deathly quiet it is as well but at least the warm food is helping you stay semi-warm right now.

“If you would get your cold-ass feet out from under my ass, I would highly appreciate that!” Eddie screeches, halfway joking but also very annoyed.

“Never!” you laugh. “My toes are about to fall off!”

“Then go put on some socks, shithead!”

“Eddie, that hurt my feelings,” you fake sob.

“Shut up,” he taunts, gently hitting you on your shoulder.

You snuggle down on the couch closer to him, craving any sort of warmth. “I don’t know how I’m going to sleep tonight. You know I can’t sleep if it’s too cold.”

“Looks like we are going to be bunking together tonight,” Eddie smiles devilishly.

“No way in hell! You are an awful bedmate.”

You cringe thinking back to all the times the two of you had shared a bed before when you absolutely had to. Eddie stole the covers whenever there was a sleepover or a camping trip, and he literally suffocated you by lying on top of you. You don't really find the offer out of the ordinary, but there's something different about it tonight that makes you slightly turned on.

“It’s either we share a bed or we freeze to death, sweetheart. It’s your call,” he shrugs.

“God, I wish you weren’t right.”

Eddie smirks. “I’m always right.”

“Not always!”

“Fine. 80% of the time, then,” he laughs.

Reluctantly, you follow Eddie to his room after supper. Much to your disappointment, the electrical company had sent both of you texts with an estimated time for the power to be fixed and it wasn’t what you had hoped for. Yet again, Eddie had been right; the company was suspected to have it fixed by early tomorrow morning.

“Stay on your side of the bed, Eddie, or I swear to god you won’t wake up in the morning,” you jeer, rolling over on your side to face the wall.

“But, babe! You know I like to snuggle,” he pouts, immediately spooning you and wrapping an arm around your waist.

“If I wake up and you are on top of me, we are going to fight. Goodnight, Ed.”

“Night, sweetheart.”

A few hours later you both wake up shaking from the cold and attempt to stay warm by piling on more blankets, but it doesn’t seem to help.

“You know what we could do?” Eddie asks in a low voice.

“What?”

“We could… sleep naked,” he suggests with a smirk.

“Hhhhmmm. Lemme think…,” you put on your best fake thinking face before dropping it as you continue, “fuck no, Eddie!”

“Come on! More skin-on-skin contact means more heat! I would like to not freeze to death tonight! I’m still so young! I can’t die yet! You really wanna be the cause of both of our deaths?”

“It’s a risk I’m willing to take,” you respond, scooting as far away from him as you can but he follows you and hugs you tightly in his arms.

“It won’t change anything between us, princess if that’s what you’re worried about. This is about survival.” Eddie nuzzles his chin on your shoulder.

“Edward Munson! If you get any funny ideas, I will personally kill you myself. Got it?” you taunt, rolling over to look him in his chocolate eyes and pointing your finger at him. Judging by how wide they are, he is terrified. He knows all too well what you are capable of having sent quite a few boys who tried to make unwantad advances on you to the hospital sporting various injuries.

You leave both of your underwear on as your strip and snuggle back up together, clenching your teeth in annoyance at how Eddie was somehow right - yet again. It really is a whole lot warmer with more skin-on-skin contact. You are really growing tired of him being right about everything lately.

Somehow you both manage to sleep most of the night until you are awoken sometime later to gentle rocking on your backside. Your eyes snap open as you realize that Eddie is humping you in his sleep. Boy, are you going to give him hell for this in the morning! Or at least that was the plan until he starts uttering short moans into your ear and you find your hand wandering to rub gentle circles around your own clit. The sounds he is making are just too delicious to ignore.

You try - you really do try - to keep your hands to yourself, but as Eddie’s noises and rocking increase you find your hands wandering his body. Its innocent light touches at first; his hips, stomach, and back, but he soon wakes from his slumber catching you in the act.

“Hmm, it seems I should have been worried about you keeping your hands to yourself, you naughty girl,” he chuckles in a deep, sleepy voice.

“Ed, you were the one humping me in your sleep!”

“Shit, sorry,” he says sheepishly.

“It was kind of… hot,” you reply hesitantly. “The noises you were making… eh forget it.” You roll over and close your eyes, praying sleep takes you over and Eddie won’t remember this conversation later. It seems that Eddie is fully awake now though and your luck has run out.

He peppers a few light kisses on your bare back. “What was that now, beautiful?”

“Nothing,” you whine as he continues kissing up your neck. Your breath catches in your throat when he nuzzles closer to you and whispers in your ear.

“Tell me to stop and I will,” he growls, nipping at your ear.

There’s something so seductive about the way he purrs in your ear.

And, you don’t tell him to stop.

To hell with your friendship. That's a problem for future you.

[lokisrealpurpous]

hiii ‼️‼️ i was wondering if i could request these two prompts:

“your eyes are really pretty up close.” and “you’re not okay, you’re shaking. what can i do? please, let me help you.” for loki ?

you absolutely don’t have to do both and can just take ur pick from the two also :)

ty 🫶🫶 !!

all I need is you

loki x female!reader

warnings: none really, fluff, reader gets ill from being out in a snowstorm

description

(y/n) and her todler, "Aroura Lokisdottir" go to the shop during a snow storm to get dinner and some snacks for a Christmas movie marathon. When they come out, the car has broke from being out in the frostbitten weathers leaving the only choice but for the two to walk home. Aroura was lucky to have her fathers Jotun genes however (y/n) wasn't as fortunate.

prompts:

"your eyes are really pretty up close"

"you're not okay, you're shaking. what can I do? please let me help you."

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Loki had been at the compound all day leaving you with your little girl at home. The harsh winds gushed outside and the scene from the window was as white as a canvas, the heating was failing you as you sat huddled in blankets, 3 hot water bottles by your sides. Your jaw ached from chattering and goosebumps painted your pale, frozen skin.

"mama what's for dinner?"

a soft voice broke through the room.

"and remember it's movie night!"

aroura squealed as she ran up to my side, frantic hands attempting to climb the sofa that loomed over her tiny frame. You grabbed her from under her arms and she crawled onto your lap, kissing your foread as she giggled childishly.

"mama you's cold!"

she grabbed more blankets of the floor and chucked them onto the chair, then started to scrunch her nose

"a...achoo!"

as she sneezed her small character pained blue, her crimson eyes glowing in the dark room. It wasn't long before this first happened. You and loki has figured that as the weather grew colder every cough and sneeze switched Aroura into her frostgiant form, you found it absoloutly adorable having a mini ice cube running around the house from time to time. Loki worried of it, but loved his little Jotun to pieces.

You sat slowly up on the chair and then walked over to your daughter, lifting her onto your shoulders and using your magic to wrap her in a hat, scarf, coat and gloves, as some for yourself, and grabbed the keys before leaving the house. Aroura clung onto your hair as she giggled on your shoulders before you lifted her into her baby seat in the car, strapping her in securely then walking to get in the front.

The car faulted as you twisted the keys, but you shrugged it of, driving across the icey roads to the shop a few streets down.

Once you got out you were quick to get Aroura back on your shoulders, she was getting tired as she rested her head against the top of yours, her small hands wrapped around your hair and neck gently. She picked out her favourite snacks and threw them in the basket, and chose pizza and star chips for her dinner, which was the best dinner for an evening like this. (y/n) brought some lemon sip for her aching throat and stuffed nose and then walked to the till, placing aroura on the bench next to the bagging area.

She was eager to grab all the items, begging you to let her scan the doritos, which you did in the end give in to, then she helped take the bags to the car, in the end needing you to take it as she dragged the items across the frost coated floors.

When you were both finally settled in the car you let out a sigh of relief, but as you turned the keys to hear a screeching, unpleasant sound from the engine your head fell onto the horn.

"Mama what are you doing!"

Aroura shouted over the loud beeping noise, her fathers attitude twisted in her voice. However grew worried as she watched her mother run her hands through her hair anxiously, muttering as she kicked and hit the car.

"Blasted weather!"

You groaned, opening the door and getting attacked once again by the deadly weather that penetrated you to your bones.

"Come on angel, we gotta walk home"

you say in a gentle however exhausted tone, holding onto your daughters small hand in one hand and 3 bags of shopping in the other.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

You slammed the door behind you, your little girl clinging onto your arm. The freezing wind had taken its toll on your body, but you mustered a smile for your daughter's sake. As you entered the warmth of home, your legs trembled with exhaustion. You tried to hide your growing weakness, not wanting to worry your precious girl. She giggled and kicked off her snow-covered boots, completely oblivious to your struggle.

You watched as she ran off to play, her laughter filling the room with joy. However, as you started preparing dinner, you couldn't ignore the worsening fever and flu symptoms that were taking a toll on your body. Your head throbbed, and a chill ran through your weakened frame. You glanced at the clock, hoping that your husband Loki would arrive soon, wanting to hold him tight and snuggle up to him in the warmth of your bed. You continued chopping vegetables, pushing through the discomfort, it was just a bit of cold.

As you continued to prepare dinner, a throbbing headache began to intensify, adding to your already weakened state. Just as you were starting to feel overwhelmed, you heard the familiar jingle of keys and the creaking of the front door. Relief washed over you as Loki entered the house, bringing in a gust of cold air. The chill served as a reminder of the harsh winter outside, but it also brought a sense of comfort knowing he was home.

"Hey there, sweetheart!"

Loki called out, his voice filled with warmth and affection. Aroura, who had been waiting eagerly for her fathers return, rushed into the hallway, her arms wrapping around his legs as he chuckled deeply

Loki made his way to the kitchen, his eyes full of concern as he noticed the fatigue etched on your face. Without a word, he wrapped his arms around you, knowing how much comfort you seemed from his embrace.

"I'm here, love. How was your day?"

he asked, his voice gently as he rocked your frozen body side to side, gently kissing your neck as you hummed in his arms.

"m.. the car broke at the shop.. m. me and aroura had to walk home and... c..cold."

You took a moment to lean into his comforting presence, grateful for his understanding.

"It's been a long day lo."

you replied, feeling a sense of solace in his arms.

Together, you and Loki finished preparing dinner, the aroma of the meal filling the house. As you all gathered around the table to enjoy the delicious food, you couldn't help but notice Loki's caring gaze on you, he looked worried yet loving, just wanting to make sure you were okay, in his own sweet way.

But in the midst of his gaze, our daughter couldn't resist having some fun. She started playing with her food, making silly faces and creating a mess. I couldn't help but laugh at the sight, trying to balance Loki's watchful eye on me while also keeping an eye on our mischievous little one.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Aroura had gone of to her room to read as you and loki tidied, you went to go wash the cutlery until some playful hands stoped you in your tracks, resting on you tense shoulders.

"Go prepare the movies pumpkin, I'll clean up."

loki hummed as he wrapped your in his jumper, going of to begin cleaning.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

The clock next to the bed wrote "22:20" and you rested your head against the tall stack of pillows behind you. Loki had just gone to put Aroura into her crib who had just fallen asleep during the 4th movie, throughout the hours your body grew weaker and colder, loki rubbing you thigh with every sniffle and shiver thay escaped your ill form.

After Aroura was huddled up in blankets loki came back into our room and lifted your cold body, resting you in between his legs and kissing you forehead, wiping you teary eyes as he began to braid a few strands of your hair. You looked up at his gentle eyes.

"you're eyes are so pretty up close"

he whispered as he gazed back at you. Loki has always admired your eyes, a beautiful rainbow of pastels.

He couldn't do much to help your shivering state, being a frost giant, however he piled you in blankets and hot water bottles and had made you a lemon sip which sat on the beside table, he stroked you hair as your bead rested against his chest, every shake his heart ached.

"my love are you truly well"

he asked knowing the answer

you simply hummed in response, till shaking in his strong arms.

"you're not okay, you're shaking. what can I do? please let me help you."

he practically begged as he drowned you in affection and kisses.

"all I need is you"

you whispered, turning as you wrapped your arms around his waist, a hand on his chest beside you head, tangled around your lovers form.

"you'll always have me my darling.."

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

[hannibalzero]

I’m wondering if you ever found that abandoned cabin at clawson’s rest in red dead 2, it’s kinda gruesome but I’d love to know how your Arthur would react to finding it. Especially if he and Charles have little ones.

Oh god the skunk cabin, where the mama never came back and the kids hungry drank the snake oil and died. It tugs at my own heart strings. Was the money worth it? Did the mom abandon the cabin? Was she bucked by a horse and died?

Anywho…..

🦬🦌🦬🦌🦬🦌

Just needed a place to stay for the night, the rain was coming down stronger, horses were tired and then the clap of thunder fallowed with a bright light for a second as lighting struck close by. “Charles you with me?!” Arthur called back checking on his husband. With storms or snow, Arthur tended to call out to his group. Just to know that they were alive and behind him.

“Always!” Charles called back. “You okay with the Papooses*?” He asked urging Tamia up to Arthur.

“For now! Both are on my chest under my vest.” Arthur looked down at the fuzzy heads of his babies. His babies where quite, just how nature made them. But they were awake, scared and warm. Under their Ina’s heavy leather coat. “There’s a cabin, to the right on that hill coming up! Been abandoned for years! Has an overhead for horses too!”

“Let’s go then.” Charles held his shotgun on his hand while Arthur held the lantern for them. “Wolves are deadly in this area!” He spotted the cabin first. “Arthur is that it? With the skunk pelts?”

“Thank Christ, yeah that’s it! come on. Yah!” Arthur encouraged Rosie to the cabin.

Rosie being a smart mare, saw a barn and knew what she wanted. She trotted happily down to the barn, it had a goat skull over the doors.

The two men dismounted their horses and worked the barn open. Charles wouldn’t let Arthur in. He checked the barn before allowing his family inside, Charles lit the hanging lantern and Arthur took care of the horses. Horses tended to and fed, both parents went up to the cabin.

Arthur kicked the door in and Charles went inside checking for life.

Arthur came behind him shaking off the rain, it was dark and Charles was starting up the fire. “Hurry daddy hurry, it’s cold.” Arthur talked for the twins, taking the dry tent canvas out of his saddle bags and laying it out before the fire. Finally undoing the wrap around his chest and undoing his vest he laid the twins down on their rabbit hide blanket.

“Imma tryin’” Charles finally got the dry wood to light and stared at the back of the house, a strange look on his face. “Arthur….” He said softly catching the outlaws attention now.

Arthur fallowed Charles gaze and saw it.

“Christ…I….i hadn’t any idea…I wouldn’t have-“ Arthur mumbled to himself as he took in the sight. His hands starting shaking.

In the back of the cabin on the bunk beds were two dead children. Arthur had seen a lot of death, it came for them all…but these children tugged at his heart. No smell of decomposition, no warning…particularly mummified. One was on the bed, curled into a ball. The other beside the bed on the floor.

Arthur walked over feeling tears prick at his eyes. “…..they was starvin…drank the medicine…” he pointed out the empty bottle allowing himself to cry quietly. He looked around and opened the nightstand drawer and found a note.

“Arthur?”

“Mama went after their stolen money, was gonna be gone for two days. Boys were good and stayed in the cabin-“ he wiped his tears away. “Charles, ya watch the Babies for me? I need ta…” he gestured to the corpse hat hiding his eyes.

“Let me dig the holes, you stay inside.” Charles rested a hand on Arthur’s shoulder. He kissed the man’s forehead.

Arthur slowly nodded “alright, illa clean up the cabin a bit..take care of them boys.” He mumbled “least we can do for’em.” He hugged Charles for a long while, trying to support Charles too. Both men were bad at emotions but felt them all the same.

Charles moved back after a moment, grabbed the shovel from the saddle bags went outside.

“I swear, I amma do right by ya two.” Arthur mumbled to his twins. Changing them into new gowns and cloth nappies. “I ain’t gonna abandon ya, yall and ya daddy are stuck with me.” Arthur looked to the bodies and stood up.

Taking the old bedsheets, he wrapped the corpse in them. With careful hands and mumbling a half remembered prayer to the boys.

“Tell’em Arthur morgan sent ya.” Arthur softly laughed at his own joke, walking outside to Charles in the rain and laying the children to rest.

He hoped they found their mama in the afterlife.

Exhaustion taking over the men, they went back into the cabin. Changing clothes and drying off best they could. Laying by the fire for some sleep, the twins tucked between the two men.



[storiesofsvu]

Washington Whiteout

Elizabeth Keane x reader (kinda) Warnings: language, mentions of alcohol, that's about it Covers the "blizzard" square of holiday bingo & the "snowed in" square of @resanoona bingo! Will have a follow up/part two sometime before the end of the month!

You always worked late, you were already used to it and honestly didn’t mind it at all. At some of your previous jobs it meant you could come in a couple of hours later and there were few things you adored as much as a good sleep in. As the days got shorter and the hours of sunlight got smaller and smaller you often found yourself losing track of time, the darkness wasn’t a sign to head home, it was barely six o’clock some days, which meant you were still completely in the clear. On top of all this, working in the White House meant there was always work to be done, and people were usually still puttering around the halls late into the night. You could hear footsteps moving through the hallway outside your office, the sound of a shoe scuffing on the marble floor as it stalled outside your office.

“Oh jeeze, you’re still here?” Rob Emmons’ voice rung out through the night and you glanced up from your computer.

“Yeah.” You shrugged, starting to stretch out your body as you realized how stiff you were, “someone’s gotta work on all her holiday speeches.”

“Sure hope your car has winter tires on it.”

“Why on earth would I need winter tires? It barely snows here.”

“When was the last time you looked out the window?” He raised a brow, nodding toward it and you twisted in your chair, letting out a little gasp at the sight. Thick, heavy white flakes flurried through the air, your entire window sill was crystalized, a layer of snow sitting on it and at least a foot and a half on the ground.

“Oh fuck….” You groaned, dropping back into your chair, “anyone else snowed in?”

“It’s nearly ten thirty.” He replied with a chuckle, “once it started most people left early.”

“And you?”

“No winter tires, wife didn’t want me driving just in case.”

“God.” You grumbled, “you know, we joke about sleeping in our offices but I never thought I’d actually have to sleep in my office.”

“Y/N, you do remember the building we’re in is connected to one that has sixteen extra bedrooms, remember? You can stay in one of the guest suites.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah, c’mon, I’ll get you clearance.”

You let out a weary sigh, shutting your lap top and stepping back into your heels as you collected your things from around your office. Slipping back into your blazer you nodded to Rob and the two of you made your way through the winding halls of the White House. He had been completely correct of course, everyone but essential staff was gone, the halls empty and quiet except for the sounds of your shoes. He got you a clearance badge for the residence so you wouldn’t run into any issues with the security team (although you’d been around a lot before, it was just an extra precaution for an overnight stay, and as he reminded you, this freak storm might last a couple of days). He guided you into one of the guest suites,

“There’s always some generic, more comfortable clothes and pyjamas in the bedroom, and the bathrooms are fully stocked with whatever you might need, but there’s probably nothing in the kitchen, use the one down the hall on the left if you’re hungry. I’m pretty sure a few of the service staff is still here if you want them to make you something.”

“I’m sure I can handle a midnight snack myself.” You laughed, thanking him for everything before he bid you goodnight and you turned back to the suite.

First things first you wanted to get out of your work clothes, stiff and uncomfortable, your heels pinching at your toes in the worst of ways. You headed to the bedroom, searching through the closet, ever thankful to find a selection of clothing and pyjamas, you swapped your suit for a cozy pair of pants and an oversized tee, grabbing a hoodie if you got cold later on. You heels were abandoned for slippers and you let out a sigh of relief as you found make up wipes to clean your face. It was only now, that you weren’t distracted by work that you realized just how hungry you were, scooping up your laptop and phone, making sure you had your all access pass before slipping out of the room.

You easily found your way down to the main kitchen Rob had mentioned, it was stocked to the brim full of any and everything you could possibly need. It was late, you were feeling lazy so you grabbed one of the frozen pizza’s and waited for the oven to preheat before sliding it in. In the meantime you made yourself at home at the kitchen island, opening your laptop once again to continue working on one of Keane’s speeches to kill some time while you popped your earbuds in to focus. You couldn’t help but let out a series of shivers, pulling the sleeves of the hoodie further around your hands, shrinking into it. The residence was almost colder than the West Wing, less inhabitants, the heat not ready for the storm that tonight held. You were thankful for the oven heating the space, giving you a little bit more comfort until you could return to your room under the blankets.

You were focussed on your laptop, squinting at the screen as you wrote and re-wrote a line of the speech, trying to figure out what would work best. The music blocking out most of the white noise from the room as you worked, it also blocked out the sound of soft footsteps, which is why you jumped out of your skin when she spoke.

“You know, just because you’re snowed in doesn’t mean you have to work overnight.”

“Jesus!” You whipped around, ripping out an earbud and immediately felt the need to sit up straighter, “oh, M’am, I… sorry.”

“What for?” She smiled softly, chuckling as she crossed the kitchen and flicked on the kettle.

“I… didn’t mean to intrude, I’m just waiting on food to be ready.” You gestured toward the oven.

“It’s not a worry.” She waved it off, “Rob let me know you were here.” She opened one of the cupboards, pulling down a mug, then turning back to you as she reached for a second one, “can I interest you in a hot toddy?”

“Didn’t realize they stashed whiskey in here.”

“I’ve got a private stash back in my suite.” She grinned, “which, may I say is much warmer than this, it’s freezing in here.”

“Yeah.” You tugged the hoodie tighter around you, silencing the timer on your phone when it went off and you shifted over to the oven, sliding the pizza out onto a cutting board and turning the oven off.

 “Is it this cold in the suite they’ve got you in?” Elizabeth asked, letting out a little shiver as she added cinnamon, honey and lemon juice to the mugs.

“Colder.” You sighed, “think the heat of the oven is helping in here.”

“Well that’s fucking bullshit.” She swore and you faltered in your movement as you started to cut up the pizza. You’d heard her swear a few times before but it still always caught you off guard, especially when it was so casual. “How about you bring that back to the main suite?” She gestured towards the food, “I’ve got to go back to get the whiskey anyways.”

“Are you sure M’am?” You asked, glancing up as the kettle went off and she chuckled.

“Yes.” She poured out two mugs of water, slowing stirring it into the mix-ins and leaving space for the alcohol, “and sweetheart you can drop the m’am, it’s just the two of us.”

“Oh… Alright.”

You felt your breath catch in your throat, the chill in your bones was already started to dissipate as your heart rate picked up. You’d always had a fondness for the president, it was part of why you’d taken the job instead of sticking with the congressman you’d been working for prior. You’d grown fonder of her working closer, almost one and one with Rob the only other staff member around some nights as you went over speeches. Catching yourself a little too distracted in awe of her as she rattled off about politics, having to quickly shake out of it and remember you were at work. She always praised you well, saying that the speeches you wrote were by far the best she had and she wouldn’t want to be working alongside anyone else, but you thought it was only on a professional level, not that the sentiment was returned.

She seemed to sense your inner monologue taking over your brain and chuckled, nudging at your elbow and bringing you back to earth.

“C’mon. It’s not like you can just stay here freezing working on speeches I might not even need for weeks.”

“Yeah…” You muttered, sliding the pizza onto a plate and gathering up the things you’d brought with you, following her through a couple of hallways into the main suite of the residence.

Unsurprisingly it was laid out and decorated much like the suite you were staying in, though this one was larger, and more cozy. Elizabeth having added enough of her own nick-knacks and personal items though the space to make it less cookie cutter. There was also a decently sized fire place with a glowing fire going in it, which was definitely helping with the heat situation.

Elizabeth moved easily through the space, placing the mugs down on the coffee table and you noticed she’d been watching A Christmas Carol before taking her little hot toddy break. She crossed back over to the bar cart, but before picking up the whiskey picked up the phone beside it and had a muted conversation before grabbing the booze.

“Well, make yourself comfortable.” She smiled softly and you shook out of it.

“Right.” You let out an awkward laugh, placing your things down on an end table, leaving the pizza on the coffee table as you took a seat on the couch. Elizabeth pulled a blanket off the back of it, dropping it over your lap before she poured out whiskey into the steaming mugs.

“Think that should get you warmed up nicely. And I’ve called to make sure the heating gets turned to full blast over in your suite.”

“Thank you.” You smiled back at her and felt the warmth blooming in your chest at the warmth coming from her eyes. Feeling you cheeks heat you quickly looked away, focussing on the television and your brow furrowed, “is this the Muppet version?”

“Yes.” She laughed, settling onto the couch beside you, pulling a second blanket over her legs.

“Never would’ve pegged you for a Muppet fan.”

“I used to watch it with Andrew ever year.”

“Awe.” You smiled, “okay that’s adorable.”

“He loved that Fozzie Bear more than anything.”

“I was always more of a Gonzo girl.” You replied, picking up a slice of pizza and offering the plate to her. She accepted a piece, smiling fondly as the movie played and you were able to pick up on a much more personal and intimate side of the president.

“Classic Kermit for me.”

Conversation was comfortable, easily flowing between the two of you while the movie played for your main entertainment and distraction. To be completely honest, it wasn’t long before you’d forgotten that you were sitting with the President of the United States in the White House and it was just as if you were sitting with a friend enjoying their company and time. (Albeit, a friend you were harbouring some kind of feelings for, even if you hadn’t really figured them out yet). Elizabeth was quick to refill the hot toddies when they were drained, and not much longer after that the movie finished, the credits rolling across the screen before the nighttime news started. Much to your distaste, the main breaking story was about the freak storm, and by the looks of things, it was just going to keep getting worse over the next three days.

“Looks like you’re going to be stuck here a while.” Elizabeth murmured and you huffed out a sigh.

“It’s gonna take a snow plow for me to get home, so yeah.”

“Well, for what it’s worth, it really is nice to have some company for once.”

“Yeah.” You turned to her with a warm smile on your face, “agreed. I may be stuck but it’s honestly better than going home. My place definitely doesn’t have the proper heating system for this.”

“Well…” Elizabeth reached out, squeezing at your hand gently, “you stay as long as you need.” She picked up the television remote, passing it to you, “why don’t you check the movie channel for something that’s not this boring crap.”

“Sure.”

“Another hot toddy?” She asked, raising a brow as she stood, picking up the mugs.

“Who am I to say no to the president?”

“Good girl.” She praised and you felt your cheeks heat once again, quickly distracting yourself with finding something to watch.

It was only at the faint whistling sound that you glanced up in the direction of the noise, noticing that beside the bar cart was a fully stocked coffee and tea cart. Honey, cinnamon, lemons, cream, sugar, flavoured coffee, hot chocolate and apple cider packets, everything and anything that one could possibly want without having to leave the suite. Your head tilted as you watched Elizabeth pour out the steaming hot water into the mugs, swirling it around with the whiskey before she turned back to you.

“You look perplexed?” She asked with a grin and you shook your head.

“Uh.. no, no not at all.” You accepted the fresh drink from her, settling back against the couch as your attention returned to the television.

All things considered, maybe this storm wasn’t such a bad thing.

____________________________

@mickey-gomez @naturalxselection @yesterdaysgone @hbkpop @giftedchildturns40 @anya-casablanca @svulife-rl  @swimmingstudentchaos891 @alexusonfire @red1culous @oliviaswifey @mysticfalls01 @cmmndrwidw @bumblebear300 @svushots @cerberus-spectre @emskisworld @ex-uallyactive @addictedtodinosaurs @imaginaryoperagloves @multifandomlesbianic @bookpillows @drduckthief @whimsicallymad @mmmmokdok @ladysc @momlifebehard @mmemalwa @holycrapraewth @poisonedcrowns @wannabe-fic-reader @when-wolves-howl @dead-of-niight @borg-queer @godard-muse  @itisdoctortoyousir @brooklynmhm @nobody-important1212 @emilyprentiss4life @httpjupiterbby @summergeezburr @leelizzzle @thatesqcrush @clarawatson

[dykeishheart]

There was thunder here today. A few solid minutes I heard on my drive to work, rain pelting the top of my car and splashing under my tires. I've lived here a year and a half and I can count three thunderstorms in my time that I was lucky enough to be awake for.

You see I lived in Arkansas for eleven years. If you know the area you don't need me to tell you about the storms. No matter the season, no matter the time of day, there could be thunder. Thunder after shine, thunder after gloom, thunder after the precious little snow. Storms so frequent you'd almost think you spent more time in it than out.

And they were not just common. They were powerful. Magnificent. Storms so forceful you could be convinced God was stomping on your roof. The brilliant flashes blazing through the windows, the immediate crashes that followed. Driving rain howling in every direction, rendering all landmarks obscure.

The noise was calming in a way. To be out in it was a nightmare, but indoors it felt peaceful. The dogs would curl up on your lap and you'd comfort them through their terror, but you'd all be safe. Nobody has any worries indoors during a thunderstorm. None that matter, anyway. It was time to sit with a mug and share a quiet moment of reflection with company as the sky raged outside.

I remember eleven years of sitting inside and listening to these divine torrents overhead. Eleven years is a hell of a long time for someone my age. They weren't always happy years but they were all I had. I don't regret a moment I've spent here. I have love here. I have family here. I have a future here that I've put a lot of sweat and heartache into, and that I wouldn't trade for anything under the sun.

But I'd be lying if I said I don't still yearn for that southern thunder.

[fateinthestars]

Star Crossed Myth Advent Calendar Day Twenty-Four: Fond Farewells (Karno/MC)

(Twenty-Four days of Star Crossed Myth Flash Fics using this prompt list )

Title: Day Twenty-Four - Fond Farewells

Pairing: Karno/MC (MC's name left blank so you can fill it in with whatever you wish in your head)

Word Count: 817

Rating: T

Prompt: "A gentle kiss on the forehead, a sweet goodbye"

Summary: MC is tired after work so she and Karno spend a quiet night in together.

A/N: Well this is it! Day twenty-four! That means every God/MC pairing has had two stories. We finish where we started with Karno/MC. This wasn't actually intentional - when I picked the prompt list up the first thing I did was assign a feeling of who I thought I'd use for each day: There were a couple I changed my mind on later, but I'm not sure I ever moved Karno. Interesting how he bookends the series like this. Anyway, I'm rambling, hope you all enjoyed, Merry Christmas to those of you who celebrate it, Happy Holidays to those who celebrate something else, and hope you have a good rest of December if neither of those apply!

Day Twenty-Four: Fond Farewells (Karno/MC)

Karno and ___ walked hand in hand back from the planetarium. Karno had made sure that today of all days he had been there to pick her up. 

Originally he had been planning on suggesting they take a detour as this might be the last time he could be down here until after Christmas, but the minute she had stepped out of those doors he could tell she was exhausted.

She may have once told him that she had a different energy reserve for dates over work, but he knew there was a limit to that and she had clearly surpassed her threshold hours ago.

He didn’t mind at all of course, and whilst he could have teleported them somewhere  to save time and energy that way, he much preferred walking hand in hand with her like this.

They slowed as snowflakes started to fall.

___ blinked, looking up at the sky. “This wasn’t forecast… Karno, did you -”

“No, not this time,” Karno interrupted her with a fond smile, not mentioning the fact that if it hadn’t started to snow he may well have done exactly that, especially if she had mentioned it.

Soon, they reached ___’s apartment building. Karno sighed softly to himself. Even though they had been walking slowly and admiring the scenery with the glinting snow that was still falling, it still felt like barely any time at all had passed.

His slight disappointment that their walk was already over evaporated as ___ stumbled a little by his side.

Karno’s eyes widened as he tightened his grip on her hand before pulling her to him. “___ ? Are you alright?”

“I’m just a little tired,” ___ replied, forcing a reassuring smile onto her face.

Sighing, Karno did not respond to that and instead snapped his fingers, teleporting them both inside her apartment. 

“Karno? I’m sure I could have managed the stairs…”

Karno smirked a little at her. “Careful now, if you insist again that you’re just slightly tired and that you can manage perfectly alright you are going to start reminding me of Hue.”

___ laughed a little at that. She sighed softly and sat down on the sofa. “... Sorry. You noticed when you picked me up from work that I wasn’t up to much tonight didn’t you?”

“You do not need to apologise,” Karno murmured gently, with a tender smile, sitting down beside her. “If anyone knows what work can be like, it’s me.”

“... Have you spent the day trying to control Leon again?”

Karno laughed. “What a way to put it.” He didn’t deny it, however. Instead he slowly got back to his feet. “Why don’t I cook tonight?”

“... Alright,” ___ relented with a smile, knowing the other didn’t like to simply summon food. “I hope I have everything you need.”

“If you don’t I guess I will at least summon ingredients,” Karno replied as he set to work. He glanced out of the window. “Looking at the storm outside now, perhaps it is just as well we didn’t go anywhere.”

“Are you sure this is Christmassy enough?” ___ asked with worry.

“Well we’re on Earth and it’s snowing outside, that’s already better than it could have been,” Karno murmured softly. However, he stopped what he was doing for the moment and moved over to ___’s small Christmas tree. Snapping his fingers, the Christmas lights shone even brighter than before.

Smiling, ___ headed over to him. “Let me help with the dinner. I’m feeling more with it now.”

As she turned to look at what ingredients she had in the fridge, Karno placed a quick kiss on her cheek.

***

After an evening of talking quietly amongst themselves as they cooked, and then watching the snow falling outside as they ate, Karno was about to ask her whether there was anything else she wanted before he had to leave shortly. 

However before he could do so, he heard a soft sigh from beside him on the sofa, and turning to face her he realised she had fallen asleep.

Carrying her carefully over to her bed, Karno lay her down and pulled the covers over her. He placed the gift he had got for her on the table by the tv. He would have liked to have given it to her in person, but he wasn’t going to wake her when he knew he would have to leave soon. He’d actually already stayed longer than he was supposed to have done. 

Karno smiled wryly to himself as he moved back over to the bed and looked at his girlfriend’s sleeping form. “Leon is going to lecture me again,” he murmured to himself. About to leave, he hesitated. 

Instead, he leant over the bed and placed a soft kiss to ___’s forehead. “Sweet dreams, ___. If I can come back I will. Merry Christmas.”

As Karno reluctantly left the apartment, a smile formed on ___’s face.

[bluemoonfantasiesiii]

Surprise voice lines for Raiden AU Scara!

Hello

“I am Shiden, the Tenno of Inazuma. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to properly thank your for aiding Inazuma, but at the very least, allow me to return the favor by aiding you on your journey. It’s not like I have any major political responsibilities. That’s all my mother’s job.”

Chat: View

“The world outside the confines of Inazuma City… I want to see it all.”

Chat: Interest

“Hmm… Could that possibly be something of interest over there? Let’s go see!”

When it Rains:

“I’ve rarely gotten to experience rain without thunder accompanying it. It’s so peaceful.”

When Thunder Strikes:

“Th-that wasn’t me, I swear!”

When it Snows:

“There’s always something so calming about seeing everything covered in pure white. But also…something very melancholy…”

When the Sun Is Out:

“Even the most devastating storms must eventually rest.”

When It’s Windy

“Gah! Please don’t let me get blown away!”

Good Morning:

“Good morning~! Did you sleep well? Waking up in a sour mood can ruin your whole day.”

Good Afternoon:

“I was just about to head out for some tea. Care to join me? Even the most bitter of brews always taste better when you have someone to share it with.”

Good Evening:

“*sigh* I don’t think I’ll ever grow tired of watching the sun set. It feels like two worlds are connected at this time of day.”

Good Night:

“You should get some sleep. You’ve still got a long journey ahead of you. Who knows what you’ll face next? A sharp mind will keep you prepared for anything.”

About Shiden: Blacksmiths

“I’ve always been fascinated by the art of blacksmithing. I’ve gotten a few chances to visit the workshop in Inazuma City in my time, and there’s just something about it that makes it feel like home. The warmth of the furnace, the rhythmic clank of hammer on blade, the friendly chatter between colleagues. Blacksmiths just have this air about them that makes even a complete novice like me feel welcome.”

About Shiden: Family

“My mother has made many poor decisions ever since my creation; probably even before that. And my sister had no choice but to follow her whims. But family is supposed to call each other out when we do something wrong, right? I don’t regret confronting them the way I did. I only regret that it took me so long to do it…”

About Us: Mutuality

“I believe relationships should be based on mutual understanding and equal footing. That’s why I’ll do my best to protect you as much as you may need to protect me.”

About Us: Transience

“Eternity is an endless cycle of things beginning and ending. Even your time here in Teyvat will eventually come to its conclusion. That’s why I’ll treasure every second I get to spend with you and learn as much as I can before you inevitably move onto the next world.”

About the Vision:

“I’m aware that Electro Visions stopped manifesting during the Vision Hunt, but I couldn’t tell you why. Could it be that the Heavenly Principles intervened? Or is the Fatui really so powerful that they were able to quash the ambitions of the people that much…?”

Something to Share:

“It truly is a shame what happened to the Raiden Gokaden. I’m glad that at least some of their craft still survives to this day. Maybe I’ll head to Tatarasuna at some point and see if anything there can be salvaged. Would you mind helping me with the fundraising when the time comes? Hm? No! I don’t want them to just give me money just because I’m the Tenno!”

Interesting Things:

“Did you know there are several legends about the origins of the Thunder Sakura? Some people even think they’re fragments of the Electro Archon. Hehe~ It’s always so funny thinking of Mother turning into a tree. They’re not too far off, though. The Shogun Puppet and I were crafted from wood.”

About Ei: Relation

“While we may not be related by blood since we have none to share, I do consider Beelzebul my mother. I know it probably sounds like a strange sentiment considering the way she’s treated me all these years, but…mothers make mistakes, too. Her mistakes just happen to have heavier consequences since she’s a god.”

About Ei: Puppet

“I don’t resent Mother for bringing me into being. Though my existence hasn’t always been a happy one, I am glad I exist. Deep in my chest where my heart would be, I knew her delusions and her grieving would eventually come to an end.”

About the Raiden Shogun:

“I’m not sure why I developed emotions while she didn’t. You would think it would be the other way around, right? The prototype is more robotic and the final draft is more refined and human. Maybe Mother wanted her own vessel to be a blank slate because she herself lost her own identity acting as her sister’s kagemusha.”

About Yae Miko:

“For a long time, Lady Miko was the only one I felt I could confide in about my opposition to Mother’s Eternity. She agreed with me that Mother was taking the completely wrong approach to the loss of her sister. She held nothing back when expressing her concerns about my existence. Hm? Why are you looking at me like I’m crazy? Yes, even someone like Lady Miko is capable of being honest every once in a while.”

About Kamisato Ayato:

“That’s the current head of the Kamisato Clan and the Yashiro Commission, right? It must have been awful, having to take on so much responsibility at such a young age with no warning. I just hope he was given an opportunity to grieve properly. I would hate for him to shut himself out like my mother did.”

About Kujou Sara:

“She’s fiercely loyal to the Shogun, for better or for worse. I don’t mean to speak ill of such a distinguished General, but that kind of blind devotion can be scary in the wrong circumstances.”

About Sangonomiya Kokomi:

“My mother owes the people of Watatsumi great reparations for what she did to their god. Doubly so knowing that they were hit the hardest by the Sakoku Decree. I commend their Divine Priestess for her bravery in standing up to the god that slayed her own. I hope she never loses that spark. We need more leaders like her, who will fight for what’s right even with the odds stacked against them.”

About Kaedehara Kazuha:

“Ah, right, the last practitioner of the Isshin Art of blade smithing. It saddens me to hear that he has no plans to continue his family business, but far be it from me to stop him from living the life he wants. I can only hope that he’ll teach someone his craft before he dies.”

About Arataki Itto:

“I haven’t had many opportunities to talk to him yet, but he seems like a good guy. Y-yes, I know he’s the leader of a gang, but that’s more of an arbitrary definition of ‘good’ and ‘bad.’ Despite his…occupation, he has a strong moral code and a terrific sense of humor. That’s the kind of thing that matters to me.”

More About Shiden I:

“Despite my seemingly luxurious existence, my life has actually been fairly uneventful. I can’t promise I’ll have anything interesting to share, but I’ll be happy to answer your questions!”

More About Shiden II:

“Although my official title is Emperor, I don’t actually hold a lot of political power in Inazuma. However, I still garner quite a bit of respect from my people. If anyone tries to give you any trouble within our borders, call for me, and I’ll set them straight.”

More About Shiden III:

“A lot of people find Chinju Forest eerie, but I personally think the rippling stream reflecting the glow of the flowers is rather soothing. It makes for a perfect meditation spot. The bake-danuki that still live there are pretty cute, too, even if they can’t communicate very well.”

More About Shiden IV:

“Can you keep a secret for me? One time, when I snuck out to see the blacksmiths, I forged my own blade. It’s not very good, but I was so happy to have something to truly call mine, something that I made with my own hands. For a brief moment, as I held that sloppily put together sword in my hands, I felt like I had my own identity. I still have it stashed somewhere. I could show you sometime if you’d like. Haha, of course I’m embarrassed at the quality, but we’re friends now, right? You can make fun of it all you want. I don’t mind, really.”

More About Shiden V:

“I don’t know what exactly the Tsaritsa is planning the do with the other Gnoses, but I was relieved to finally be rid of that thing. Don’t get me wrong, it wasn’t an easy decision to make, but now I understand how even a god like Morax could be persuaded to bargain his away. A Gnosis is nothing more than a tether. Now that it’s out of my hands, I finally feel I have the freedom to stop trying to be like my late aunt. It was never truly mine to begin with.”

Shiden’s Hobbies:

“I often used to occupy my time helping out the attendants in Tenshukaku. My favorite activity was assisting the chefs, and I’d like to think that over 500 years, I’ve gotten pretty good at cooking.”

Shiden’s Troubles:

“I’m sure you can imagine how spending most of my life locked up in Tenshukaku has left my social skills a bit lacking. I hope you don’t mind teaching me as we go. My status means nothing to you, so you’re the only one I can trust to correct me if I accidentally say or do something rude.”

Favorite Food:

“This may come as a surprise, but I actually prefer bitter things. Too much sugar or spice can overwhelm the dish and conceal its true intentions. That’s why you’ll never see me putting anything in my tea. Some things should just be left as they are.”

Least Favorite Food:

“I don’t have much of a sweet tooth. Especially when the sweets are also sticky like honey or caramel. It makes me feel like my teeth are fusing together. It’s a rather unpleasant sensation…”

Receiving a Gift I:

“This is perfect! Not too much, and not too little. Well done!”

Receiving a Gift II:

“Would you mind sharing this recipe with me? I don’t want to have to bother you every time I’m craving it.”

Receiving a Gift III:

“Urgh…! Well, it’s better than Mother’s cooking at least…?”

Birthday:

“Happy birthday! I’m not super familiar with the typical conventions of birthday celebrations, but I do know you’re supposed to give the person a gift, so here! Now that I’m not trapped in Tenshukaku anymore, I was able to learn blacksmithing more seriously, and I made these twin daggers with you in mind. You can give your sibling the other one when you’re reunited. I hope that’s not too forward of me.”

Feelings About Ascension: Intro

“I happily embrace this change.”

Feelings About Ascension: Building Up

“The future is looking brighter with each day.”

Feelings About Ascension: Climax

“The beauty of time is that we never know what’s coming next. So just take it moment for moment.”

Feelings About Ascension: Conclusion

“At last, I have a power that I can call my own. I never could’ve gotten here without you. I hope we can continue to grow together in the future.”

Elemental Skill:

“Eyes up!”

“A storm is brewing!”

“Strike twice!”

Elemental Burst:

“You can’t run from the future!”

“The future is now!”

“For Inazuma’s future!”

Sprint Start:

“Quickly now.”

Opening Treasure Chest:

“What are these used for?”

“Is this a good find?”

“It’s all yours.”

Low HP:

“You can’t get rid of me that easy!”

“The future looks bleak…”

“You’ll pay for this!”

Ally at Low HP:

“Let me handle this!”

“I’ll make them regret harming you!”

Fallen:

“Every storm…eventually…ends…”

“My future ends here…”

“Time will go on…without me…”

Light Hit Taken:

“Hardly a scratch!”

“Was that it?”

Heavy Hit Taken:

“Lucky shot!”

“Not bad…”

Joining Party:

“Finally, a chance to see the outside world!”

“I wonder what the future has in store for us.”

“You need my help? I’d be honored!”

[hades-10397]

31 days if Harringrove

Prompt: Baby it’s cold outside

Billy was forced to go out and find Max again. Susan was worried sick because Max should have been home by now and there was a snow storm on its way to Hawkins. So like the good brother his is Billy calls around and tried to find where she is. No luck with the Wheelers or the Byers. The Sinclair’s didn’t answer but Mrs. Henderson was helpful. She informed him that there was a Christmas party at Steve’s this evening and she could be there still. Billy bundled up as much as he could and made his way to his car.

“Christ” He sighed as he turned his car on. He blasted the heat for a couple of minutes so his hands wouldn’t freeze from the wheel. He backed out and made his way to Steve’s. He could barely see the road in front of him everything was just… white. He drove faster than he probably should have but the fast he got to Max the faster he could get home to the heat. He tired to keep his car from swerving on the ice but he didn’t have a lot of experience driving in these conditions. Billy ended up right into a ditch about a half a mile.

“Fuckin hell!” Billy sighed and got out of his car. He walked the rest of the way to Steve’s. Once he got there he saw that none of the lights were on. “Just my luck.” He knocked on the door and waited. No response. He knocked alittle harder. Still nothing. “Come on Steve it’s fucking freezing out here!” He banged on the door praying that someone was actually in there. He almost fell forward when the door finally opened. “Billy? Wh- what are you doing here?”

Billy pushed past him to get inside. “Yes come right in why don’t you.” He turned around to see Steve in front of the door with his arms crossed. “Dude you have no idea how happy I am to see you. Its fucking freezing out there!” Billy ran up and hugged Steve. He was cool he could feel Steve’s warmth through his damp clothes. “Yea it’s call a snow storm genius. Oh! Um okay?” Billy let him go and tried to collect himself. “Uh sorry um… is Max here? I need to get her home.” He proceeded to look around the living room. He ended up not finding a little red head peaking out. “No she left with Lucas. Mrs. Sinclair said she would drop her off at home.” Billy groaned while throwing his head back.

“I wish she would have called. Her mom is worried sick. I had to drive all the way out here! Now my fucking car is stuck in a ditch and it’s basically all white out. How do people live in this shit.” He just kept rambling wondering what he was going to do. He had no car. No Max. Just… Steve. “Look dude I don’t even know how you got here because the roads are horrible. Everyone left hours ago before it got bad.” No no no he had to get home. Susan was going to freak more than she already was. He heard Steve sigh and turned his attention back to him. “Just… Call Susan and tell her you’ll stay here till the storm settles.”

Billy was surprised that Steve even opened the door for him let alone invite him to stay with him. “I don’t want to put you out or anything. Plus tomorrow is Christmas. I was just going to try to walk back.” Steve scoffed at him. “Are you insane. Dude it’s below freezing outside you wouldn’t even make it. So just call Susan and I’m gonna tend to the fire then join me.” Steve just walked past right by him after point to the kitchen. He sighed. Great he has to spend Christmas morning with the guy he’s liked since he beat his face in.

He called Susan and she assured him Mrs. Sinclair called her and told her Max was staying with them till the morning. He made his way to the living room to find Steve leaning up against the wall sitting by the fire place reading. He was wearing glasses with a blanket wrapped around his shoulders. The light from the fire casted along Steve’s face and woah he looked.. gorgeous. Steve looked up once he noticed his presence. He removed his glasses and smiled at him. “Come join me. I think I’m gonna have the fire go for awhile. So grab a book or something.” He put his glasses back on and went back to reading.

Fuck. He was beautiful.

[korasonata]

Story time: AKA, how my mornings going.

We got the storm of the century overnight. Snow plastered against the door, roads aren’t plowed, we live on a side street that doesn’t get plowed. The type of storm we got was something called thunder snow, which is extremely rare. This is essentially a thunderstorm with snow instead of rain, meaning not only is it snowing like a bitch but there is now also crazy ass lightning everywhere. Roommate has a 4am shift and almost an hour drive to work.

Roomate wakes me up at 3:00 in the morning because we are snowed in and her car is stuck in the driveway. Me, still in pyjamas, throws on a jacket, grabs a shovel and starts digging. Dead quiet outside. Dark as all hell. It’s 3:00 in the bloody morning. Struggled with it for about an hour before we manage to unbury it enough to get it out of the driveway to where it promptly gets stuck 2 feet up the road. Context, we also live at the top of a massive god damn hill (also not plowed), at the bottom of which is a set of stop lights and an intersection. We are literally just trying to get the car back into the driveway at this point, debating calling a tow truck to move us 2 goddamn feet, if we had to do that hill today we were going RIGHT through that intersection, green light or no.

Have pulled out an ice scraper and am now physically scraping the pavement trying to get the tires some form of traction, enough that we can simply move it back to the driveway. Snow is so deep I can barely walk. Have fallen over so many times and my pyjamas are now completely covered in snow. Finally manage to get the car to move forward, at which point I am horrified to try to put it in reverse because we’ve now been out here for an hour and a half and I don’t want it to get stuck again. I’m the one in the car now, my roommate physically pushing the car from behind when I finally get it to move, and I decide my best bet is to just keep it moving. So now there’s me behind the wheel, car shaking and sliding and revving ferociously with it’s just barely gained traction as I drive it around the block, and me praying against all odds that the rest of the goddamn city it still asleep because I literally cannot stop if another car happens to be coming the other way when I go to make the turns at each intersection of road. Roommate is stood outside the house watching the clock debating if she needs to come after me on foot and dig me out on the next street over. Don’t even have my phone on me because I wasn’t expecting to be outside at 3:00 in the morning.

Finally get the car back into the driveway. It’s now 4:30 am, roommate was supposed to be at work half an hour ago, I’m not supposed to start till 9 but my car is now blocked in by hers and lord knows we aren’t trying to move that again. I’ve done my best to shovel out the driveway but it’s still snowing and most of what I started is already covered back in again. At which point we decide we are both taking a snow day and calling in to work, go back inside, put on the kettle. It’s 5 am, I’m boiling us tea, roommate’s made us a platter of grapes and cheese. Roommate’s already called in to work, they were very understanding. We are watching Ratatouille.

7am, haven’t slept. Been up since 3:00 shovelling bloody snow. Not supposed to start till 8:45, but figure I’ll give the boss an early heads up that I will not be coming in today as I physically cannot leave my house. Am also now hella tired and am looking forward to simply sleeping for the rest of the day because I’ve now been up all night.

Manager picks up the phone. I explain all of the above. Tell her that I’ve been up since 3 am shovelling snow, car got stuck on the road, just barely managed to get it back into the driveway, they still haven’t plowed and are likely not going to, I physically cannot get out of the driveway, I don’t think it’s safe to drive right now. She goes “well keep trying, call again in 3 hours to let me know for sure”

What…would you like me to do? Shovel the entire goddamn road? Walk 2 and a half hours in knee deep snow? Descend from the sky’s via helicopter?

8am, get a text from my father. He’s warning me how bad the roads are, giving me the heads up that I’ll need to get up early to shovel if I have to work today. Spectacular advice. Why the hell didn’t I think of that.

He suggests I take the bus, as he knows my streets are never plowed and I likely won’t get my car through (truth). Closest bus stop is over 2 kilometres away, no idea when it comes, streets and sidewalks are still not plowed, not even sure the buses are running today.

Is now 8:30 am. Have been up since 3 am. Have already attempted to call in to work, I just want to sleep for 10 bloody minutes. At which point my father goes “stay there, I’ll come drive you to work”. Which gives me half an hour to be up, dressed, packed an overnight bag, and taken precisely one bite of a 3 day old pastry that I found in the kitchen before I’m once again trudging through the snow because I have to walk to my dads car 2 blocks over because roads are still not plowed.

9:30 am. Get to work. Have reached a state of exhaustion where I am so tired that I almost have energy. I brought a giant ass thermos of the strongest caffeinated tea I own. I also bought 2 Monster energy drinks, each of which contains about 160mg’s of caffeine. Why the fuck are there so many customers here.

10:45 am. Manager has already given me 2 carts of stock to do and plans for more. Have just barely managed to finish the paperwork, which miraculously, by whatever grace of higher power there is, all managed to be in order for once. It’s still relatively slow, have only had a couple of drop offs and a guy buying an envelope for a birthday card, but that’s it. Am praying against all odds that nobody wants to ship anything Priority Worldwide today. I’ve discovered 6 days worth of mail transfers that haven’t been touched because lord knows I’m the only person who ever does any goddamn paperwork.

11:30 am. Starts getting busy. Had a customer with the most complicated order on the planet. He’s picking up, dropping off, shipping out to multiple different countries, he’s got customs owing on his package, he needs a return envelope for a different letter. The woman behind him is dropping off a pre-paid package for a business and she looks like she’s getting antsy. I’ve got a lineup, the phone is ringing, and I’m the only one here. Vision starts to go blurry because I haven’t slept in 24 hours. Me, in my sleep deprived haze, have the sudden realization that bee season started 3 days ago and I am in fact viable to receive such, because a big old box of live bees is exactly what I need right now.

3:00pm. I’ve finished my Monster and my tea. I feel no more awake at all, but my insides feel like they are vibrating. My ears are ringing. I am barely conscious, don’t know how I am even standing right now. I want the fucking bees. I would GLADLY take a box of fucking bees over the package I just received. Man comes in with a big box taped all around. He is moving to a different province and he is shipping this to his new address. Doesn’t tell me what’s in it, just says he needs it shipped regular parcel with a signature. Cool. I can do that. Finally something simple, I think. Print out the label, affix it to the box, give him the pin pad, he pays, I give him the tracking information, I pick up the box. Guy goes “yeah this is the last of my firearms that I’m shipping out, they wouldn’t fit in my car.” He walks away. Takes me a second to realize what’s just happened because I haven’t fucking slept.

I am now holding a big ass box of fucking guns.

…

WTF AM I SUPPOSED TO DO WITH A BIG ASS BOX OF FUCKING GUNS?!

Am panicking now. I don’t even know the proper protocol for shipping firearms because we are a tiny ass post office and nobody fucking ships firearms. Call my supervisor. “So you know how you’re TECHNICALLY allowed to ship certain dangerous goods by regular mail within the country because it gets delivered by truck and not by air?” “…Yeah?” “How flexible is that rule”

The Manager comes over. The Manager who has never touched a single thing in the post office in her entire life.

“What’s wrong?” “I think this box is full of guns.” “What, THIS box?”

MANAGER PICKS UP THE BOX AND SLAMS IT ON THE COUNTER.

Supervisor arrives, pulls out the manual. There is hope for me yet. Turns out I HAVE actually pretty much followed protocol (literally don’t ask me how). There is a section on shipping firearms and I’ve done pretty much every step correctly accept for the first one, which, given, is actually probably the most important step, which essentially boils down to you need fucking special permission to ship firearms (although it says the customer is supposed to call so I might be off the hook for this one). Not only that, the customer has managed to fuck me over even more with the fact that the return address he wrote down on the label I gave to him is the same as the shipping address. Meaning in order to “send it back” or “refuse it” I would have to return it to sender. Which is the same bloody address as where he’s trying to send it to.

My shift is done at 5. I don’t leave until almost 6. Customers keep lining up despite the fact we are closed. Am severely regretting my decision to let people talk me into coming in to work today.

6:30, I finally get home. The plow has finally dug out the road. The plow which, incidentally, has pushed all of the snow into the base of my driveway. So despite the fact that the roads are now clear, I somehow have MORE fucking snow than I did at 3:00 in the morning.

I am. So fucking exhausted.

[notbabysittingclub]

The Places We Could Go

18+

(Joseph Quinn Fic)

Chapter 1

________________________________________

COPYRIGHT - ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. THIS FIC IS ALSO AVAILABLE FOR READING ON OTHER PLATFORMS. I DO NOT GIVE PERMISSION TO COPY AND PASTE ANYWHERE ELSE. THE ONLY PERSON WITH THIS RIGHT IS THE AUTHOR, SABAL GALLO CLOONAN. IF THIS HAS BEEN POSTED SOMEWHERE ELSE AND THE NAME, SABAL GALLO CLOONAN, IS NOT STAMPED TO IT, ALERT ME ASAP!

_________________________________________

'Dragged down by life and its negative impact it seemed to have on her, fate switches sides and grabs Krisa by the hand. A snow storm was both a negative and a positive for Krisa. They canceled an expo that she had been dying to attend. Leaving her in a pit of despair, figuring that the world just hated her. Suddenly, something happened that only a few people wish would happen to them.'

________________________________________

Chapter 1

____________________________________________

Krisa stared at the television screen with a glare. If looks could kill, the people on the news would be dead as she shot daggers at them. She was waiting for three months for this fan expo and they were canceling it because of a lousy snow storm that blew in from the far north.

“Nothing exciting ever happens here in Nebraska and when the first fan expo comes, they freaking cancel it!” Krisa was yelling into the phone and at the TV. “I paid so much for photo ops and autographs, and this is what Mother Nature has to say to me.”

“I’m sure they’ll reschedule or refund your money, Kris,” Erika chimed, trying to stay positive.

Krisa growled. “The tickets aren’t refundable and they haven’t mentioned rescheduling. All they’re talking about is the damn storm and how the expo has to be canceled to keep everyone safe. Just when I thought my life was turning around for the good…”

Erika sighed. “Well, I guess call me if you need anything.”

After hanging up, Krisa stood in her kitchen and boiled water for some hot cocoa. The TV was still playing in the background, and a familiar voice caught her attention.

“As sad as I am that I won’t be able to meet my amazing fans here in Nebraska,” Joseph Quinn stated. “Just know that I love all of you and to stay safe!”

Krisa rolled her eyes. Fucking great! Why does the universe hate me so much? At least he’ll be somewhere safe from this storm.

A loud whistle came from outside as a wintry wind swept the streets in Krisa’s neighborhood. It didn’t take long for the storm to hit soon after she had heard about it on the news. Krisa could tell by looking outside that the wind was frosty and she could feel it, even though she had a wall and windows between her and the storm. She shivered as she sipped her warm cocoa. She swaddled her quilt as closely as she could and sat in front of a warm fire.

This is going to be a long day…

And just as she said, it felt like a perpetual day. It was as though the first time she looked at the clock, only a few seconds seemed to have passed. It was only nine in the morning, and Krisa was awake at five in the morning. Krisa sighed and looked at the clock. Tick. Tock. Watching the hands slowly moving around made her feel drowsy.

Krisa stood up and wandered into the kitchen, where she had left the television remote. After placing the mug in the sink, she plopped down on the sofa and flicked through the channels. Anything to get her mind off of the wasted day ahead of her.

“Maybe I should call my mom and see if they’re safe,” she thought, taking out her phone and scrolling through to find her mother’s number. “Wait… she’s in Hawaii… of course she’s safe. She should call me instead. Ugh! This is so frustrating!”

Suddenly, tires screeching followed by a loud thud came from outside. Krisa jumped to her feet quickly and raced to the window. Snow was falling, creating a thick sheet of white everywhere as it came in a heavy blanket. Krisa squinted, trying to cut away the glare from the lights inside of the house that reflected onto the window.

A light red sedan leaned on a light pole. The front of the car was clearly a few inches off of the ground. She could see a figure laying across the steering wheel. Her mouth opened, then closed as if she was about to say something.

“Maybe they’re okay?” she said to herself, watching to see if the figure would move.

Krisa waited for five minutes, but the person didn’t move at all. Worry set in. She quickly bundled up and threw on her thick winter shoes and bolted out of the door towards the red sedan. The flashers were blinking as the car hummed, showing that the vehicle was still on.

A brisk icy wind blew, echoing a mighty howl as it blew her hair everywhere. She knew she needed to get to this person and get somewhere warm, quickly. Krisa pounded on the window on the driver’s side after making sure the person was alone.

“Hello?” she called, hitting the window. “Are you okay in there? Do you need some help?” No response. Krisa pulled on the door handle and it opened, nearly knocking her over.

She reached for the person’s neck to check for a pulse and gently pulled them back in the seat off of the steering wheel. Krisa’s eyes grew wide at the handsome face in front of her. The wind blew again, making her shiver and bringing her back to the present. Krisa patted the man’s face gently.

“Hey… can you wake up?” she said, shivering. “I can’t carry you inside… I need you to wake up…”

A soft moan escaped his lips as his hand reached for his forehead. He moved his head from side to side and cracked open his eyes to look at the person with the angelic voice. Krisa shrugged and helped him out of the car. Getting him to the house in the thick storm was no simple task. There were a few times his legs gave out on him, making her have to drag him.

“Let’s get you warmed up,” she said, throwing a heavy blanket over him after laying him on the sofa. The fire crackled as the flames danced. Krisa couldn’t stop staring at the man laying on her couch. “Well, I guess mother nature doesn’t hate me after all… or maybe this is a test.” Krisa stands up straight and stares at him as he lies there on the couch, peaceful looking. She smiles to herself, but that quickly disappears as a thought crossed her mind. What if people don’t know where he’s at?

Krisa ran her fingers through her short brown hair and bit the tips of her fingers in a nervous habit. What if people were looking for him right now? He must have a phone on his person, right? She thought, stepping towards him. Maybe she should just wait for him to wake up…

His short, curly, brown hair was a mess. Krisa studied his face. Every line and crease. Where his smile would end. She’s seen so many videos of fans meeting him and how kind he was. So many people dreamed of a moment with him. And here he was, passed out on her couch during a snowstorm. Joseph Quinn. Krisa let out a sigh and knelt on the side of the couch. She gently touched his cheek and smiled. He was finally warming up.

“Why were you out in this storm, Joe?” she wondered out loud. “Hopefully you’ll wake up soon.”

Krisa sighed and went upstairs to grab more blankets and a comfortable pillow from the guest room. Her mind wandered as she thought about how unusual it was for him to be around this part of town.

***

Breathe. Just Breathe.

Joseph gripped the steering wheel of the light red sedan as he slowly trekked forwards in the harsh snowstorm. All he wanted to do was get out of the hotel and see some sights. Maybe this wasn’t such a great idea after all. He wasn’t used to driving in the snow. At least not this thick. He could barely see in front of him. Joseph’s grip on the steering wheel was so tight, his knuckles were almost as white as the snow that covered the car.

Shit.

The vehicle started swerving, left to right. He hit the brakes and took a deep breath. Why did I do this? I should’ve just stayed in the hotel and sucked it up. Slowly easing up on the brake, Joseph let the car move down a slight incline. His jaw clinched when it suddenly started swaying again and sliding down a bit too fast. Faster than he wanted it to go. Fuck. Shit. Damn it!

Once the car was fully out of his control, he slide into a pole. Hitting his head on the steer wheel, making everything look fuzzy and go black. Where am I? He wondered as he sat still in the driver’s seat. I can’t be in my bed right now, can I? I feel cold.

He felt something touch his neck. Someone was moving his body and he could hear an angelic voice.

“Hey… can you wake up?” she was asking. “I can’t carry you inside… I need you to wake up…”

He moaned to inform her he was aware of her presence. Joseph felt warm hands wrap around his waist as they pulled him from the car. He managed to steal a small glance from the person with the angelic voice. But as soon as his head hit something soft, he passed out again.

I must be in heaven. I must’ve died. He thought as he slowly came to. All he heard was her asking why he was in the storm. Joseph felt a bit embarrassed at the thought. All he wanted to do was take a look around town, given he’s never been to Nebraska before. He threw his hand to his forehead as he slowly rose up from where he laid. Blinking slowly to get accustomed to the dimly lit room with a fireplace as the only source of light. How long was I out for? He wondered.

Joe was about to stand up but felt dizzy, so he lied back down. He could hear mummers coming from upstairs and figured it must be the owner of the home talking on the phone. Or perhaps she was upstairs watching TV. Either way, Joe was quite curious about who his savior was.

This person must be a saint for helping my stupid ass out of the storm.

What the hell were you thinking, Quinn? Going out in this knowing it was going to get far worse than what you’re used to.

His head felt fuzzy and he could almost feel his pulse in his temple. Joe sat up and rubbed his forehead, trying to get a better grasp of his surroundings. The living room was very welcoming. Decorated in Christmas decor even though Christmas had already come and gone. The owner must’ve not have found the time to take everything down. Or maybe she enjoyed the decor too much to even want to take them down. The fire was warm and inviting. The orange and yellow flames danced together in harmony. He felt like he was pulled into a trance as he stared off into them. Not even realizing that his savior was standing right there, a cup of something warm in her hand.

“Ahem,” she cleared her throat.

Joseph’s head whipped around and their eyes met. She was wearing stripped shorts, knee high sock with bunny slipper and a t-shirt that had Munson written across it. He stood up a little too fast as a normal reaction to greet her. Joseph managed to catch himself at the edge of the couch.

“I, uh… Hi,” he breathed. He realized he had been staring and lowered his gaze to the floor after sitting down to stop his head from spinning.

“Hi… are you feeling better? You looked a little dizzy there,” she said, a slight grin as she handed him to cup. “I made some broth for you. It’ll help you warm up some more.”

He smiled his thanks. Their finger tips brushing sending shivers up his spine.

God, she was cute.

“I, uh,” he tripped over his words after taking a sip of the warm broth. Feeling it run down his throat made him feel warmer already. “I wanted to thank you for helping me. I’d still be in that storm if it wasn’t for you.”

She chuckled and waved her hand. “It was nothing. I’m just glad you’re safe.”

There was a long pause before she added, “Why were you out in this? It wasn’t long before I saw you on TV talking about how it sucked not being able to see your fans at the expo and for everyone to stay safe.”

He gave her a sheepish grin and rubbed his face. “I was bored and wanted to look around. I’ve never been to Nebraska.”

Her smile was the prettiest thing he had ever seen. Her gentle brown hues lit up with her smile. It was like watching a flower open for the first time after a long winter. Joseph couldn’t help but stare.

“To be honest with you,” she said, sitting on the arm of a chair in front of him. “This expo was literally the only exciting thing to happen here. You’re not missing anything.”

Clearly… I hit a pole.

A grin played at the corner’s of his lips as he thought this but he stayed quiet and took another sip of his broth.

“I’m Krisa, by the way,” she introduced, extending her small, soft looking hand.

Her touch was warm and inviting. It was like magic as it sent shivers up his arm making his breath catch. Who was this girl and why was his heart racing just by making eye contact with her?

“Joseph…” he said. “It’s a pleasure to meet you. Even under the circumstances.”

She smiled again, with a small giggle. But clearly she already knew who he was since she mentioned seeing him on TV shortly before he crashed into that pole. And she was wearing a Munson t-shirt, which was a telling sign she was possibly a fan of the character.

“I have a guest room,” she said suddenly. “It’s too dangerous to drive in this and a wrecker won’t be able to get your car until the snow lets up. Also, you should probably make sure people know you’re safe.”

Shit. He never thought of that until now!

“I think my phone is still in the car,” he said after checking every pocket he had on his person.

Krisa looked out the window and sighed with a shake of her head. “There’s no way you or I will be going out in that. The snow fall is too heavy. We’ll have to wait it out unless you remember the number?”

He shook his head, a little embarrassed. Of course he would be reckless and not carry his phone in his pocket. Tired. He was tired. That’s why he wasn’t thinking straight, right? Or maybe it was Krisa? He stole a glance at her, she was staring out the window, her arms crossed. Krisa felt cold just by looking outside.

“I’m sorry,” Joseph said, looking at the floor. “I feel bad for intruding in our your day.”

She shook her head and gave him a reassuring smile. “Don’t be sorry. In fact, you made my day a bit better.” She face palmed. “That didn’t come out right… But I hope you understand what I mean. I had no plans today, for obvious reasons. I was just going to watch movies and dream about the expo.”

Joseph smiled. Unaware that he was staring her up and down. She looked so beautiful in this light from the fireplace and what little light was seeping in from the windows.

Stop it. Quinn. You just met her. He told himself, shaking his head.

“Well, I guess I’ll join you with watching movies,” Joseph said, smiling.

___________________________________________

Chapter 2 in Progress!

[fox-buried-in-maple-leaves]

Blizzard (Hirudo 3?)

taglist: @cerasus--flores

tw: none actually lol

The snow came down heavily, blanketing the town and castle in heavy flakes. The blizzard had lasted two days now, far worse than the area had ever seen in previous years. It made hunting difficult, leaving some denizens of the castle irritable and tired. The cold didn't help either, the wood pile covered in snow, the wood wet and ice speckled. 

Jacques had managed, with Lumio's help, to keep everybody minimally fed at least. Often hunting for those near death on the roads into town or the woods behind the castle. But it was barely enough, he had to resort to those willing to risk the blizzard for supplies. Often apologizing to the God in question for changing their fates. But times were rough for all.

A knock resounded through the large manor, echoing off of the stone and wood walls. Alee looked out of the window, it was still blizzarding outside, who could that have been? The man stood up, bringing up his heavy dress to move faster. He got to the top of the stairs when he saw Eudes enter the main hall as well. The master of the manor went down a few steps to watch. Eudes opened the front door, greeting the snow covered person on the other side. 

"Hello, welcome to House Destan, how can I help you?" 

Alee watched and listened curiously, he could only really see the person's shoes from this angle but, still. "The storm has made travel to the town impossible, and I would rather not freeze." A man's quiet voice spoke, his accent wasn't odd, but it wasn't French either, British, Alee assumed. He crouched down a little bit to try and see him.

"Can I please come in? I won't be a bother. I just need to warm up."

Eudes turned his head, looking up at his master behind him on the stairs. Alee seemed to think about it, before giving his companion a quick nod. Eudes turned back to the man in the doorway. "Come in. I am Eudes, the butler of the house." He stepped back, letting the man in. Alee finally got a better look at him.

"Mieran."

Blond hair, brown eyes, pale.. He was wrapped in heavy rust coloured robes, wet from snow. His nose was pink from the snow, he had a bag on his arm, arms wrapped around his body. Alee stood straight, descending the last few steps as Eudes shut the door behind the man. He looked up, seemingly surprised by the man's sudden appearance.

"Mieran." Eudes addressed him, pivoting to look up at his master. "The master of the house, Lord Alee Destan. My Lord.” He bowed somewhat as Alee approached them both, stopping beside his longtime companion. Alee waved his hand halfheartedly and Eudes stood straight once more, looking between the two men. 

“Welcome to my home. Have you eaten? I can have our chef prepare something for you.”

“My lord.”

“I’m aware, Eudes.” 

“Food would be pleasant. Thank you..”

Alee nodded, his smile not once faltering as he gave a look to Eudes. The man bowed once more, taking a step back and disappearing further into the house. “I’ll show you to where you can stay. I’ll also have our housekeeper, Giana, bring you warm clothes.” He gestured up the stairs and Mieran gave him a small smile, mostly hidden by the scarf around his neck.

“You’re from Great Britain, correct?” Another nod. “Ah, thought I recognised that. May I ask what brings you to the French Empire?” 

“Oh.. Ah, research. I am a doctor.”

“Oh, how quaint! So is Eudes.” 

Mieran’s confusion momentarily flashed across his face before it settled back to his previous expression. But Alee’s keen eyes didn’t miss the man’s surprise. “Yes, a medical doctor, no less. Still, he chooses to work for me. His medical expertise occasionally comes in handy, often in circumstances like yours, that brings strangers to our home.”

“You seem well though, despite the chill.”

He cracked another small smile at Alee’s words, following him along the dim candle lit hallway. "I am well, thank you." Alee opened a door, stepping inside the room, Mieran followed him. "Wow this is.. Very nice." He looked around the large room, a big bed, a fireplace, there was even a nice sized desk and chair against one wall.

"I'll get some wood for the fireplace while Giana brings you clothing. Or rather, our chef Jacques probably will. Make yourself at home, she'll be by soon."

"Thank you, Lord Destan."

"Please, just Alee is fine, doctor."

"Then just Mieran is fine."

[rookusmaximus]

The day was coming to an end, a small gust of wind carried with it a sickening stench, Helen flinched her nose and turned to enter her house.

It's been getting worse lately... the smell. It's not always there, But it arrives quite frequently, Maybe some kind of animal died nearby, either way the house provided shelter from the smell. The howling of the wind could be faintly heard from the outside, the sun was already going down, its reflection looked mesmerizing on the ocean. Helen has been living in this house ever since she was a child, it is her family home... although she is the only one left, Fortune has not been kind to her.

A pitched shriek sounded, The water has finally boiled, Helen poured herself some tea and prepared to end the day, Helen is a writer, she has published a few books so far to little success, She had just finished working for the day on her latest book. 'How long have I been working on this book?' she wondered to herself. The book carried with it her pride, in Helen's mind the book's success was all but assured, it was a spark of genius, a tale of a brother and a sister exploring an underwater cavern, Helen was not sure how the idea struck her, but it seemed so natural, her hand moved as if she was writing her own story.

She smiled as she closed the book and put it on her shelf, Her eyes already weighing down on her, Sleep was fast approaching. Helen made her final preparations and entered her room. The dim rays of moonlight had glazed over her neatly made bed... and then they didn't. A darkness, Helen couldn't see a thing, She went out of her room to grab a lantern but as she returned, The room was as it had always been, the dim rays covering her neatly made bed. Perhaps a cloud had blocked the moonlight, she was tired, oh so tired, and the bed was very inviting. Helen removed the doubt from her mind and entered her bed, keeping the lantern by her bed side just in case. She let out a yawn and closed her eyes...

...

...

"Often times, Dreams can be an interpretation of things we see in our daily lives, Some dreams may be long memories a person has all but forgotten about. And sometimes, a dream could also have no meaning at all, It cannot all mean something"

...

...

...

It's this dream again, I stand on the water's edge but no sun shines on me, I peer into the water and see the image of a boy... he looks right into my eyes.... begging... I am on a mountain, living in a shack, a snow storm rages on outside, I am in a place no life should exist, where the very air can freeze your lungs... I hear a knock on my door. And then I am at my house, where I have always been, where I will always be, cheerful laughter fills the halls, A family eats dinner, are they celebrating something? And then I am out, I open my eyes to rays of light, a new day has dawned.

I walk outside, the sunny skies give way to clouds of rain... were they always here? I walk to the shore, I peer down at the lake, The only thing reflected in it is my own image, Its eyes piercing through me...

A gust of wind blows once again and with it the sickening smell, How long has it been since I had a breath of fresh air? I turn to leave...

...

"Have you forgotten so soon?", a voice? I turn to look, all that lays before me is the endless ocean, no speaker in sight, "I need to finish my book" says Helen before turning once more towards her house, its imposing figure looking back at her as if she was an ant. She entered her home, water had been leaking from the ceiling, Helen keeps on walking, She entered her study, its window looking out to the very ocean from which she made her escape, she reaches for the shelf, grabbing a book wrapped in leather, featuring ornate gold carvings, she opens the book and begins writing, her lantern sitting next to her. It is already night. Her handwriting grows more and more disorganized as she goes along, and then... she stops...

The book in her hands dimly reflects the rays of moonlight from its gold carvings, The sickening smell is now ever present, It has infiltrated her very sanctuary, But she is not focused on the smell, in fact she hasn't even noticed it, what her mind was focused on was the latest passage she has written in the book...

...

"Desperately struggling the boy begged for help, his breath running short as the water threatened to claim his life, his eyes gazed beyond the barrier of water, yet where his sister once stood all he could see was a set of eyes, emotionless, indifferent to his struggle... the boy closed his eyes for the last time"...

...

The figure seating at the desk simply held the book in complete stillness, no discernible emotion could be read from its motionless visage, it stood up from the desk gripping tightly the book, there was no more light, the clouds had covered the sky completely, the only source of light was the already dimming lantern placed on the desk... the thing grasped it.

It made its way out of the house, the sickening smell now permeated every last part of its conscious mind, the only thing it could see was the light of it's candle but in its mind the destination was clear, it made its way down to the water surface and peered...

...

...

"You finally remembered... sister..."

[promptsinpanem]

you really got a hold on me

Summary: After the death of Leeg 2 in battle, instead of sending a replacement soldier to Squad 451, the Mockingjay is sent home. Hijacked!Peeta, Mockingjay-au.

Rated: M for sexual content.

Prompt: Grow Together

On the fourth morning of Squad 451’s mission, Soldier Leeg 2 hits a mislabeled pod. It doesn’t unleash a swarm of muttation gnats, which the rebels are prepared for, but shoots out a sunburst of metal darts. One finds her brain, and in the instant it pierces her skull, Katniss swears she hears a cannon fire. Instinctively, she looks to Finnick who is also staring with wide eyes.

The following evening, Boggs gets the call. “Everdeen, Odair, pack your things,” he says. “You’re heading out on the next train.”

“Train to where?” Katniss says. They’re already at the last station.

“Back to Thirteen,” Boggs says. 

“What about the mission? We’re not even close to the mansion yet!” Finnick demands.

“Squad 451 has been dissolved. Everyone else is being reassigned,” Boggs says. “The pod mishap with Soldier Leeg has Plutarch a little shaken. They want the Mockingjay home.”

Katniss shoulders her weapon defiantly. “I’m not leaving. They need me here.” It’s a lie, of course, she’s hardly been allowed to fire her weapon since she’s arrived. But she can’t leave now, not when she’s so close. “That was the deal,” she says. “I kill Snow. You call Coin back and remind her of that!”

“I’m not going to change her mind,” he says, sounding tired.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Let’s take a walk,” he says.

Katniss falls in step with Boggs and they weave around the encampment, outside the earshot of the others.

“You’re a wildcard,” he tells her. “You’re too unpredictable, and as this war comes to an end, you become a bigger and bigger threat to her.”

“I’m not vying for the presidency, if that’s what she’s worried about,” Katniss deadpans.

“True, but there will be a lot of people waiting for your endorsement. It’ll carry a lot of weight, especially if you’re a respected war hero.”

“How can I be a war hero, when they won’t even let me sniff the front lines?”

Boggs stops and gives Katniss a knowing look. “She doesn’t trust that you won’t sneak off into the night with my Holo, and storm the Capitol by yourself.”

Katniss presses her lips together tightly, and tries not to look too guilty at the accusation. 

“I’ll do whatever it takes to capture Snow alive,” Boggs says. “We’ll be sure to save him for you when you get back.”

It’s a long three days on the train back to District 12, and when they disembark the hovercraft in Thirteen, Katniss heads straight to Haymitch’s door. He seems to be expecting her, and hardly looks up from his reading when she storms into his compartment.

“The propos weren’t being well received,” he tells her. “The districts are united. Everyone’s seen enough of you blowing things up with a bow and arrow. The focus now is getting the people of the Capitol to lay down their weapons and surrender, and we all know who speaks the Capitol’s language better than anybody else.”

“Peeta,” she admits reluctantly. 

“Yes, and they don’t know you’ve had a rocky reunion. No one has seen you two together since the rescue.” He sits back in his chair and glances out the door to make sure no one else is around to hear. “There were two options discussed. Bring you and Finnick back to show the Capitol all the happy times to look forward to, or send Peeta to the Capitol in a Squad 451 uniform.”

Katniss pales, remembering what Boggs told her before she left. That she was a threat to Coin. “She wanted to send Peeta to kill me?”

“You know as well as I do that the boy wouldn’t be coming home either.”

She scowls. Of course he wouldn’t. Boggs would put a bullet between his eyes before he got off the train. If not him, probably Gale.

“Peeta’s already dead,” she says darkly. 

“Could be, but I’m not ready to give up on him yet.” He sighs when she’s unmoved. “He’s made a lot of progress. Sending him to the Capitol with all of those bad memories? He might never recover from that.”

“He’s gone, Haymitch,” she says, and she’s even angrier now because she feels she might cry. “You have to let him go.”

“You and me, we made a deal to try and save him. Remember?”

She sets her jaw and looks away. Outside Haymitch’s compartment, she notices a name has been added. Beneath H. Abernathy reads P. Mellark.

“He’s out of the hospital unit?” she says, surprised.

“Yes, he’s been reassigned to my bunk.”

“He’ll kill you in your sleep,” she says with a humorless laugh.

“And I’ll probably deserve it, since I left him behind.”

******

There’s a strategy meeting on her schedule for the day, and she heads down to the command center early, since that’s the only thing on her schedule for the day. When she arrives, she finds that Peeta, Plutarch, and Beetee are already there, speaking quietly over a map similar to what was projected with Bogg’s Holo. She steps back into the shadows, recognizing this isn’t a conversation she’s meant to hear.

“This is the tunnel,” Peeta says, pointing to a path that runs at the bottom of their field of view. “It connects the prison cells to the mansion, that’s how they’d take us whenever we needed to film something.”

“This might be our best entry point,” Beetee says. “Since Boggs and Hawthorne are already familiar with it from the recovery mission.”

“The entire place is booby trapped. Even worse than what’s in the streets,” Peeta says. “You can’t send soldiers in there.”

“Maybe if we can send in something armored to hit every possible touch point to guarantee we trigger any traps ahead of time,” Beetee says.

“No there are cameras,” Peeta says. “And if there’s anyone left in the control room watching, this will definitely be the place they’re looking.”

Beetee nods. “So the cameras will be our first target. What’s the fail safe for surveillance?”

“Biometric sensors,” Plutarch says. “A pulse needs to be detected to mobilize the weaponry.”

“So send in a robot,” Peeta says dumbly.

“It’s also needed to activate the doors,” Plutarch says. He pauses, realizing something. “Hawthorne’s squad caught a pack of mutts this morning. They have them trapped in a school building. We may be able to use them.”

“Snow’s going to surround the mansion with refugees and threaten to blow the place sky high,” Peeta says. “You need to get all the civilians evacuated and convince them to seek shelter elsewhere.”

“We already have something in mind for that,” Plutarch says. He pulls out his pocket watch to check the time. “I’ve got to go prep for our next meeting,” he says. “If you’ll excuse me.”

Katniss scrambles back toward the door to pretend she’s just arrived. “Plutarch,” she greets.

“Oh Katniss, it’s so wonderful to see you back safe,” he says. “It’s such a shame what happened to Soldier Leeg. We were so worried about you.”

“I only wish I could have stayed behind,” Katniss says, it’s a long shot, but there’s no harm in at least trying. “To avenge her.”

“And you wouldn’t be our Mockingjay if you didn’t feel that way,” he agrees. “But we have more use for you yet.”

Plutarch leaves along with Beetee, leaving Katniss alone with Peeta and the guard she now notices posted in the far corner.

“Sorry they’re not letting you storm the Capitol,” Peeta says from his seat, but it’s obvious he’s indifferent by his tone. “It must be really hard for you, not getting to play hero for once.”

“They brought me back, because they couldn’t send you!” She says harshly. She knows it’s not fair to blame him, but everything about him frustrates her.

“It’s not like they give me a choice.”

She folds her arms over her chest. “Wouldn’t have mattered. Peeta wouldn’t have cowered in a bunker, he would have been the first volunteer to lead the charge.“

“And it would have been stupid,” he says with a scoff. “A high profile target on the brink of insanity shouldn’t be on the front lines. Every resource left in the Capitol would have been aimed right at you. It puts everyone around you in danger.“ 

“They know what they signed up for.”

“That’s easy for you to say. They’re the ones who’d be skinned alive and tortured to death so your face stays pretty for the camera. Me? I don’t have the stomach for it anymore.”

She stops short. How many people did he watch die while he was being tortured? Suddenly she feels selfish and small, and hates him all over again for exposing what a terrible person she is. “I have to be the one to kill him,” is all she can say in response.

He looks like he pities her for a moment, but it quickly passes. “The only one who will kill Snow, is Snow himself, and he won’t be going out alone.” She doesn’t break his gaze. She never planned on coming home, he must realize that. He shakes his head, growing frustrated. “This sick game you two are playing. Don’t you see the path you’re on? Nobody wins”

“Aren’t you angry?” She spats back. “After everything he’s done to you?”

“Sure I am, but I try to funnel it into something productive. Me going to the Capitol is not productive.” He frowns, like he hates to admit it when he adds, “Sending you isn’t either.”

“Well neither is me sitting here.”

“The rebel army isn’t going to lay down their weapons because the Mockingjay isn’t on the battlefield,” he says flatly.

“You don’t get it.”

“Of course I don’t. You think you’ve suffered the most, so you’ve earned it,” he says. “But last time I checked, you still have your sister, and your mother, and Gale. Hell, I’m still here, even though you haven’t a clue what to do with me.”

“Don’t,” she says lowly. “You’re not him.”

Snow took him and sent a mutt in his place. She remembers him on the beach, telling her that no one needed him. The absolute dread that filled her at the thought of losing him. A part of her died in that arena when he was left behind, and she’s fractured more and more, every time she’s faced with this imposter. The only fire she still has burning within her is vengeance. Killing Snow is all she has left.

He studies her face carefully, like he’s working all her thoughts out on his own. As if he has any clue. He shakes his head, and sighs dismissively.  

Plutarch enters then. “Oh good, you’re still here,” he says. “We’re meeting next door.”

He leads them to another room where all the victors and Coin are already gathered. Katniss takes a seat beside Haymitch and Peeta sits on his other side.

“First we’d like to welcome back Soldiers Everdeen and Odair, and commend them for their bravery in the Battle Against the Capitol,” Plutarch says solemnly.

Katniss’s eyes meet Finnick’s across the table, and they both roll their eyes in unison. Based on the way Annie is wrapped around his arm though, the odds of Finnick stowing away with Katniss on the next hovercraft out are about as likely as Haymitch deciding to tag along.

“We have a problem,” Plutarch continues. “It seems we have to reevaluate the focus of our propos. People of the Capitol enjoyed the fighting when it was happening in the districts, but now that it’s moved to their backyard…”

"It never bothered them before,” Finnick argues. Back in the Games, the Capitol loved that sort of suspense.

“No one wants to worry that the Mockingjay herself will break down their door and fire an arrow into their chest,” Plutarch says. “We have their attention at least, and we plan to use it. If anyone can convince the people of the Capitol to join our cause, it’s the Victors. They feel like they know you. They trust you.”

“They couldn’t care less if we were dead!” Johanna says with a roll of her eyes. “Besides, the propos are pointless to them. They’d rather die than surrender to a life of drab gray and standard issue rations.”

“Not if we put drab gray in style,” Plutarch says. “So far all of our footage has been about joining the war effort. We need to change our focus to what Panem will be when the fighting is over.” He’s pacing around the room now, flashing his hands around each victor with a buzzword. “Strength!” He says beside Johanna. “Hope!” He says along Beetee. “Rebirth!” Between Finnick and Annie. Then, when he gets to the District 12 side of the table he concludes with, “Romance!”

Peeta goes stone faced. “No. We had a deal,” he says. “I give intel and I run training drills for the camera, but no more star crossed lovers. We’re through with that.”

Plutarch looks like he’s getting nervous, like he expects Peeta will launch across the table ravenously at the first sign of showing any emotion.

“You’re in a unique position here, Peeta,” he says. “The Capitol used you as their mouthpiece in the early days of the war, and they haven’t heard from you since the rescue. Snow has tried to discredit you, but that’s hard work, since it makes him look like a liar.”

Peeta rolls his eyes. "You want me to smile and pretend like I agree with everything you say? I’ve done that enough already and I’m done. I’m not some piece in this damn game!”

Katniss’s eyes snap toward him, and for a minute she forgets how to breathe. She waits for a sign, some kind of proof that he remembers that quiet talk before their first Games, but he never even looks at her. It was just a coincidence. A cruel coincidence. 

“They need to see that you’re okay here. That you’re not some prisoner too,” Plutarch says, which is almost comical, with the armed guard lurking over Peeta’s shoulder. “We’ve held off on the reunion long enough. We need to show them what happily ever after looks like.”

Peeta stands from his seat.

“Where are you going?” Plutarch demands.

“Home. Back to Twelve. Thanks for the rescue. I’ll be sure to pay my taxes, or however you work all of this out, but that’s where my civic duty ends from now on.”

“We can’t sustain any more mass casualty events, Mr. Mellark,” Coin finally says, her voice always so calm and calculated. “But I suppose there are other ways to persuade the citizens of the Capitol to lay down their arms. Another Hunger Games, perhaps, pooled from families who are unwilling to surrender.”

He sits back down, and glowers at Katniss, as if this were all her fault. It’s not like Katniss is crazy about the idea either. In fact, it only reminds her of what Boggs told her before she was sent back. Coin’s not just interested in convincing the Capitol to join their side. She’s interested in erasing Katniss as the brave warrior leading the charge, and recasting her as that naïve little girl, too dumb with love to cause any problems. When the dust clears, they’ll remember that the Mockingjay called the people of Panem to fight, and then abandoned them on the battlefield.

She’s seething by the end of the meeting, and hardly pays attention to Plutarch’s brainstorming ideas. While Peeta has been able to turn all of his frustrations on Katniss, she has no problem redirecting them to him in the same way.

As they stand to leave, she stops Peeta before he can pass.

“It must be really hard for you,” she says tauntingly, mirroring his earlier tone. “Having to smile pretty for a camera." 

"Play nice, kids,” Haymitch says in a warning tone.

Peeta shakes his head. “Aren’t you angry they keep using us like little play things?”

“I try to channel it into something productive,” she says coolly. “Besides, what do I care? I’ve kissed you hundreds of times, and it’s never meant a thing.”

******

While hunting with Gale in Thirteen, they’d occasionally drift outside their allotted quarter mile radius. The animals weren’t aware of their hunters’ restrictions, and Katniss and Gale would often find themselves following tracks that led them two to three miles away from the bunker.

It was on one of these trips that she’d stumbled upon a lake, similar to the one she used to visit with her father back in Twelve. It even had a cabin, although it had been blown to bits, leaving only the ruins of a foundation behind, but the dock that stretched fifty feet into the water was still in reasonably good condition. 

Katniss had been reminded of the lake when Johanna mentioned some of the therapeutic methods her doctors were discussing to help her overcome her fear of water. Katniss had even gone so far as requesting the lake be tested for radiation, and it had been deemed safe for swimming.

The lake seemed like the perfect setting for Plutarch’s new propos, and Finnick, who’d never gone more than a few weeks without access to water, was thrilled with the suggestion. 

Cressida and the rest of her crew had stayed back in the Capitol to collect war footage, so a new team is assembled with Fulvia as director, a slew of amateur photographers from Twelve handling the cameras, and Katniss’s prep team tirelessly tailoring an assortment of District 13 jumpsuits into something sleek and stylish catered to each Victor’s best assets.

A blanket is set out on the docks and filled with foods from each district. Now that the supply lines have matured, there’s a bounty of fresh meats, fruits, and vegetables. The feast practically screams: Not from a can! Which is probably the only thing people in the Capitol have had access to in the last few weeks. There’s even a bottle of white liquor tucked away discreetly, which was probably placed after hours of debate, to show that the new Panem will still imbibe. 

They’re all deemed too pale from living underground for months, and her prep team airbrushes them shades of bronze, before sculpting their hair into something windswept and fresh.

It’s autumn, but it feels like spring. The leaves on the trees are warm yellows, oranges, and reds, and the air is warm too. Katniss stretches out on the dock beside Johanna, and soaks in the heat from the low hanging sun.

Johanna presses the bottle of white liquor into Katniss’s hand and smiles wickedly. Katniss sits up enough to take a swig, and grimaces as the liquid burns down her throat. “That’s terrible,” she says, passing the bottle back.

“It gets better,” Johanna says and takes another drink.

Finnick is already stripping naked and jumping into the water. He crows when he breaks through the surface. “It’s a little chilly,” he shouts, but seems to be acclimated after a few laps.

“Where’s Lover Boy?” Johanna asks lazily.

Katniss had seen him arguing with Fulvia earlier, probably over the fact that her direction notes stated “Peeta should kiss Katniss” and not “Peeta should hit Katniss with an oar.” After that, he went for a walk with Annie to cool down, and the last time she saw them, they were skipping rocks off the water from the shore.

She takes the bottle from Johanna and takes another drink. “Probably trying to empty his stomach now, so he doesn’t vomit on camera when he has to touch me,” she says. She sits up and dangles her feet over the edge, letting her toes comb through the water.

“He’s just embarrassed,” Johanna says, sitting up to match Katniss’s position. She hesitates before her toes can touch the water though, and instead swings her feet through the air. “He knows he’s still attracted to you, and he doesn’t want to give you that sort of power over him again.”

“He’s not attracted to me,” Katniss argues. “He told me I wasn’t even pretty.”

“Believe me, he is. We have group therapy together. It’s all he talks about." 

Before she can process it, Peeta approaches, with his hands buried deep in his jumpsuit pockets. Two people with cameras follow closely behind, and position themselves at different corners of the dock to capture the right angle. Peeta presses his lips together and lets out an annoyed sigh, before sitting down on the dock beside her. “Fulvia says I should talk to you,” he says, sounding bored.

“Mission accomplished.”

“That’s what I’d say.” He leans back on his hands to stare out at the water. “What are you two up to?”

“We’re racing,” Johanna says.

“To the bottom of that bottle?” He shakes his head when Johanna offers it to him.

“Johanna’s winning,” Katniss says.

“Did Haymitch teach you that game?”

"No, he’d never share,” Johanna says.

Katniss isn’t drunk, but she’s feeling a bit light headed, and she gets up to pick through the picnic before she loses her wits, especially now, knowing what Johanna has just told her. When she turns back, Peeta is stripping down to his underclothes, and preparing to launch himself off the edge of the dock.

“Where are you going?” she says.

“For a swim,” he says dumbly.

“You don’t know how.”

He looks unconvinced. “I survived an arena full of water, of course I know how to swim.”

“The belt was a flotation device,” she says. “You would have sunk without it. The only thing you know about swimming, you learned from me. I gave you a lesson once.”

“In that case, I must not be very good at it,” he says wryly.

“I could teach you.”

He smirks. “I don’t trust you as far as I can throw you.”

Maybe it’s the influence from the white liquor, or maybe it’s something else, but suddenly she begins to strip down to her underclothes and steps up to him. Lifting an eyebrow in challenge, she says, “Let’s find out then.”

Peeta narrows his eyes skeptically, like he thinks he might be walking into a trap. Then he grips her by the waist, and tosses her off the dock. The water is freezing, nothing like the tropical waters in the arena, and it takes a moment to get her limbs to start moving. She breaks through the surface, teeth chattering, and lets the light current drift her back into the sunlight.

"If I can trust you not to kill me just now, you can trust me this far,” she says, splashing the water in front of her.

He jumps in after her, and bobbles uneasily to the surface. The lake isn’t too deep, and within a few strokes toward the shoreline, she can already feel the bottom.

She goes over a few basic things, like treading water and how to float. He picks up on them right away, and they practice some simple strokes. It’s all very clinical, and boring to watch, and Katniss knows they’ll want better footage than this.

“Is it okay if I splash water at you?” she says.

“What do you mean?”

She flicks a few drops at him with the tips of her fingers to demonstrate. “I wasn’t sure if… like Johanna…” she tries to say diplomatically.

“No, it’s fine.”

She splashes some water at his face, and he does the same. They splash back and forth a few times, and again, it’s all very superficial. 

“I think they’re getting impatient,” Peeta says, nodding towards Fulvia  who is making get on with it! gestures from the shore. “We should probably just get it over with.”

She hasn’t kissed him since the arena, and she’s certain there are snipers up in the trees, ready to neutralize him if he has a psychotic break and tries to drown her. She flinches when his fingers brush her neck, and he draws his hand away quickly, flexing his fingers behind his head, while he debates a safe place to touch her.

She’s always depended on Peeta to take the lead, but that won’t work now, so they just kind of circle one another, with their chins touching the water, neither willing to make the first move. His eyes keep flitting down toward the surface, and she realizes that her underclothes are pretty much translucent from the water. His smile is almost sheepish at being caught staring, but then his expression darkens, and she realizes how she must be looking at him. Cheeks flushed, lips parted, shallow breaths. She looks like she wants him to kiss her.

And then he does. And the floodgates open. 

She remembers the night of his rescue, as she approached his hospital room. She was so excited to see him she felt dizzy, trying to picture what they’d say. What they’d do. She was certain he would kiss her, and she wondered if it would feel like those kisses on the beach. The ones that left her wanting more. 

When he kisses her now, she feels it again. That stirring that leaves tingles to the tips of her fingers. That guides her arms around his neck to pull her body flush against his. That leads her legs to frame his hips when he urges them there, aided by the buoyancy of the water. And then she feels it. But it’s not her this time, it’s him. Firm between her legs.

They’ve slept beside one another dozens of times and she’s always been aware of the effect she’s had, but he also went to great lengths to hide it. And now, feeling him pressed where her body seems to be calling for him most, her hunger turns to starvation when his hips roll against hers.

She’s too overwhelmed, and she breaks the kiss, swimming away, and climbing back on the dock where Finnick, Annie, and Johanna are gathered. Finnick drops a towel around her shoulders, and she wraps it around her body. She knows she’s shivering from the cold, but she can’t ignore that buzz still humming through her.

Peeta wades back to the dock a moment later, but only pulls himself up enough to lean on his elbows. He rests his head on his arms while he catches his breath. 

“You getting out bud?” Finnick says with a teasing lilt.

“In a minute,” he says shyly. 

She feels his eyes on her for the rest of the afternoon. It cools down quickly after the sun sets, and they build a fire near the shoreline for warmth. Katniss sits beside Johanna, nibbling on the remnants of their picnic, when she feels Peeta sit beside her.

She can’t quite look at him after their kiss, but she doesn’t protest either, when he directs her to sit between his legs, and she leans back against his chest, soaking in the wonderful familiarity of being wrapped in his arms.

She offers him a bite from the apple she’s eating, but he waves it away, and catches her chin with his finger before she can look away.

“I’m going to kiss you,” he says, and she’s already nodding before she fully comprehends what he’s said, and then they’re kissing again, framed perfectly behind the flickering flames from the fire.

“You need some privacy?’ Johanna says, throwing a dinner roll at Peeta.

He catches it then rips off a bite with his teeth and throws it back at her. "Yeah, you mind?” he says. And for a second, it reminds her so much of Peeta, the real Peeta. The one who nudged Caesar Flickerman aside after their first Games when he tried to interrupt their kissing. When he returns to kissing her, she pretends it’s still him, letting herself melt completely against him, holding onto that feeling for as long as she can.

******

They’re called into the command center the next day to preview the propo, but as they watch, Beetee informs them that it’s already airing in the Capitol. As expected, the primary focus is on Katniss and Peeta, with some extended shots of Finnick swimming, and a few clips of Johanna and Katniss laughing over the bottle of white liquor. Annie’s barely in it at all, which isn’t surprising, since the news that Finnick Odair is off the market, is not popular among the Capitol Elite. 

Peeta walks out of the room before the propo finishes playing, leaving Katniss to face the images of them kissing alone. She sinks into her seat, hoping to become invisible, and is grateful when it’s over and the meeting is adjourned. 

She returns to the command center later in the evening, when she knows that Gale will be calling in to deliver his daily briefing. They linger on the line after the rest of the senior personnel have left.

“You all seem to be having a great time back there,” he says coolly.

She feels the color drain from her face. “You’ve seen the propo?” She’d told him about Plutarch’s plans to film one, but she hasn’t spoken to him since they shot the footage.

“Yeah, it’s been on an almost endless loop here,” he says. “Men, women, and children were weeping in the streets at the sight, begging to be rescued,” he adds flatly.

“Funny,” she says. “You know I’d rather be out there with you.”

His laugh is tired, like he’s done repeating this same conversation again and again. “Let’s not kid ourselves,” he says. “Sure, you want to be here, but you couldn’t care less if I were around.”

“That’s not true.”

“Right. As your hunting partner.” He sighs heavily and rests his forehead in his hand. “I’m sorry. It’s just hard seeing you kiss him like that again.”

She touches her lips without thinking, and then quickly lowers her hand. “It’s nothing,” she reminds him. “He still hates me.”

“Didn’t look like it.”

Her knees snap together tightly at the memory of Peeta moving against her, and she looks away from the screen.

“I’m doing whatever I can to end this,” she says. “That’s all I want. You know that.”

“I could think of a dozen ways to end this war tomorrow, but you wouldn’t like any of them.”

She can’t shake the image of the Nut. The mountainside crumbling as those trapped inside scramble through the chaos in search for a last gasp of air they’d never reach. She doesn’t want to think about the horrors Gale would be able to unleash against his true enemies. 

“Just stay safe out there,” she tells him, still unable to look at him.

“You too.”

It’s late, past lights out, and she runs into Peeta wandering the corridors on her way back to her room. Peeta used to do the same thing on the train, but it’s another connection she’s unwilling to acknowledge.

“You’re up late,” he says.

“I had a call,” she says, her eyes staying trained on his feet.

“Gale?”

She hates that she feels guilty at the implication, like it’s something she’s trying to hide from him because she’s doing something wrong, when she knows that she isn’t. “They just finished supper out there, it’s usually when they send back their status for the day.”

“You want me to talk to him?“ He says, and that edge has returned to his voice. The one he’s used around her ever since his return. "Let him know you’re still being faithful.”

“I don’t owe him anything, or anyone else either,” she says.

His laugh is humorless as he shakes his head. “Ah, yes, there she is. Classic Katniss Everdeen.”

She scowls at him, eager to change the subject. “What are you still doing up?”

“I had a dream,” he says. “It was unsettling.”

“A nightmare?” 

“Not quite.” He puts his hands in his pocket and tilts his head thoughtfully. “You were in it though.”

“Did I get to kill you?” She says in a tone that’s disturbingly hopeful for the thought.

“No,” he says, and the smile he flashes looks genuine. “But you were implementing some unconventional torture methods.”

“Like what?”

“You wouldn’t want to know.” He lifts his eyebrows smugly. “Gale might be interested though.”

“What are you talking about?”

He stares at her, hard, like it would take a novel to explain it to her, then lets out a loud breath. “I don’t like you,” he says bluntly.

“You don’t like me? Join the club.”

“I’m still trying to figure you out. Sort out a lot of things up here,” he adds, tapping a finger against his temple. He takes a few steps to close the distance between them. He’s looking at her like an animal hunting prey, and she knows she should be scared, that she should probably run. But instead, all she can feel is that stirring in her chest. The one she gets when he kisses her. It doesn’t help when he says, “I don’t mind kissing you though. In fact, I kind of like it.”

“I could tell,” she says, aiming for indignant, but she doesn’t sound at all convincing, the way her voice is trembling.

He smirks tilting his head to the side, so that their faces are impossibly close. “I didn’t hear you complaining either.”

“If it seemed like I liked it, it’s only because I miss him.”

He lets out a quick rush of air that sounds like the wind getting knocked out of him, but covers it with an incredulous laugh. “Gale?" 

She should leave it at that, and let him think it. Then she can walk away and be done with whatever this is. "No,” she admits instead. “Peeta.”

There’s no hesitation before his lips crash into hers. She welcomes them, her arms circling his neck so he can’t stop. He stumbles forward, propping his arm against the wall behind them to keep them upright. She could kiss him forever, she thinks, but then she’s reminded that this isn’t Peeta. It’s like Gale told her back in Two. Kissing Peeta now is like kissing a drunk person, it doesn’t count.

“I shouldn’t be…” she says, pulling away.

He sets his other hand on the wall so that she’s caged between his arms. “What? Using me because you’re lonely? I get lonely too, you know.”

They kiss again, until she can clear her head.

“Kissing you now is different…” she says. “Then before."  

“What do you mean?” He humors her, but it’s obvious he isn’t interested in talking, because he immediately steals another kiss.

“It’s like kissing is just the start of something else,” she says.

He grins wickedly. “Isn’t that the point?”

“There are plenty of other reasons to kiss a person.” She has kissed Peeta a thousand times before, and it never turned into this.

“Yeah? Want to show me?” He leans in for another kiss.

She turns her face away before he can. “I’m done here,” she says.

He sighs heavily, and pushes away from the wall when he recognizes he won’t be getting anywhere otherwise. “I used to be terrified every time I kissed you,“ he admits. "I can remember that now. I think that’s why it was so easy for the hijacking to take, since there was so much kissing.”

“Why were you scared?”

He shrugs. “I was afraid I’d fool myself into thinking you’d love me back. But now, I don’t really care what you think of me. That’s probably why it feels different.”

Katniss realizes that’s the biggest difference between Peeta and Gale. With Gale there are expectations of how well she’ll love him back, while Peeta couldn’t care less if she ever loves him at all. Even before.

“That doesn’t seem fair,” she says.

“Fair?” he says. “Isn’t it the same thing you used to do to me?”

“I’ve always cared.”

“Have you? Is that why you’ve been sitting vigil by my bedside since my return?”

“I was a little preoccupied by a crushed larynx, if you can remember,” she snaps back.

He glares at her.

“Nobody touched my memories,“ she says. "And even I can’t make sense of half of them. So, sorry for the way I’ve treated you. I’m still trying to figure things out, same as you.”

“Yeah, well I’m sorry for a lot of things too, but it doesn’t seem to do us much good.”

“It does if trying to strangle me is on your list,” she deadpans.

He laughs, but it isn’t that cold, dismissive one. It’s a quiet and amused snort that even he seems surprised by. “Goodnight, Katniss,” he says, and the moment has officially passed, because now he’s backing away.

She’s not done though. “You brushed against me before,” she says, before he can turn away completely. “In the lake. And I felt it.”

He stops, and lifts his brows curiously. “Yeah?”

“You’d never done that before either.”

Even with the distance between them, she can see the shift in his eyes as they narrow, his pupils dilating until they turn black. He lets out a slow, deliberate breath that seems to suck the air from her lungs. “Did you like it?”

She leaves without answering, but when she returns to her compartment, she sits on the shower floor with her legs spread, and touches herself where she felt him before. Her fingers circling until she captures that sweet release she’s been craving. And when her eyes flutter open after her pleasure has waned, she realizes she was picturing him.

******

Training now is different than it was for Squad 451. There’s still target practice, and enough running to make Katniss puke, but now the focus is also on medical training to aid in relief efforts. The plan is to send the Victors in after the final offensive line reaches the City Center, when the Capitol is already secured, as a part of the liberation. 

Katniss hates the role, but is happy that medical training means she gets to spend time with her sister.

Delly, Peeta, and Prim have been playing a game called “Real or Not Real,” which Annie introduced them to. It involves Peeta describing a memory, and then Delly or Prim tell him if it actually happened. When they play around Katniss, it’s mostly superficial. Peeta asks about former school teachers, or what kind of food was served at the harvest festival. Occasionally he’ll ask about events from the Games, but never anything involving Katniss.

Over reflection the other night, Prim admitted that when Katniss isn’t around, the questions are almost exclusively about her.

Ever since the incident in the hallway, Katniss has been avoiding him. It doesn’t help that, according to Haymitch, Peeta had another setback yesterday that required him to be sedated much of the day. Katniss doesn’t admit what happened between them, but by the way Haymitch talks, he already knows. Either because Peeta told him, or they caught it on the security cameras.

Whatever his setback was, it must have passed, because Peeta’s almost cheerful today. Cracking jokes with Delly and Prim, and no longer staring at Katniss like he’s going to devour her at any minute.

Katniss doesn’t mind the reprieve, and she sits idly off to the side, practicing her stitches, while the three play their game.

"Hey Katniss,” Peeta says, catching her attention. “Pearls come from coal. Real or not real?”

She lifts her eyes to meet his. He’s smiling at her, which means he must already know the answer, and she can’t help but smile back. "Only in the Capitol,” she says. 

He furrows his brows, like he’s still stringing pieces of the memory together. “Effie told us that, we used to joke about it.”

She nods. “You gave me a pearl once too. On the beach.”

“I did,” he says in a tone that’s a mix of a question and an answer at the same time.

“I still have it,” she admits.

This seems to have unlocked a new memory and he presses his lips together, his eyes scanning across his workspace like he’s reading words off a page. “I gave you a locket too, didn’t I?”

“It was your token,” she says encouragingly. “It had a picture of my mother and Prim… and Gale.”

He nods. “I guess I already knew then, about you two.” He looks unsettled for a moment, and Katniss wishes she could take back what she told him. He’s quiet, his expression almost settling into that broody look he’s always sporting now, but then he scrubs his hand over his face to clear it away. He flexes his fingers a few times in front of him and lets out a heavy breath, which reminds Katniss to breathe again too. “Your favorite color is green,” he finally says.

She’s surprised when he says it. Because it’s less about remembering something she’s told him, and more about why she had told him in the first place. It was the conversation they had on the train, after they’d argued over her keeping secrets. In that moment they had called a truce, and decided to become friends. He’s doing that again now, and all she has to do is get over her pride and accept his kindness, something that has always felt impossible for her to do.

“And yours is orange,” she says.

“Like Effie’s hair,” he agrees with a smile, like they’re keeping a secret. And just like that, she recognizes it. That Peeta really is still there.

******

She hears him in the hallway every night. 

Peeta’s always walked with a heavy gait, and his footsteps are unmistakable at night when he roams the halls in search of sleep. She usually ignores it, but things feel different now, and this time, when she hears him stomping by, she opens her door.

“Another unsettling dream?” She says.

“Unfortunately not tonight, no,” he says. “Well it was certainly unsettling…” he shakes his head, unwilling to humor her. “I probably won’t be sleeping tonight.”

“What do they give you?” She asks, leaning lazily against the doorway.

He scratches behind his ear sheepishly. “They’re trying to wean me off the heavy sedatives, because I was forgetting how to breathe on them. So now I just get sleeping pills.”

“Which make the nightmares worse,” she concludes.

He looks at her with uncertainty for a moment, then nods.

“You want to come lay down?” She says and gestures over her shoulder toward her bunk. “It used to help – for both of us.”

“I probably shouldn’t,” he says, but he doesn’t make a move to leave. “Is Johanna in there?” She nods, although Johanna’s dead weight at night, since she swipes Katniss’s sleeping pills on top of her own. The morphling she siphons while “observing” in the hospital wing probably doesn’t help either. “Maybe that’s okay then, since we wouldn’t be alone.”

He climbs into her bed, and she settles beside him. The bed is small for one, and they have to tangle their limbs to fit, like when they shared a sleeping bag in the first Games. She hardly sleeps, because she can’t stop watching him. He looks just like Peeta when he’s sleeping. The rhythmic rise and fall of his chest is the same, and his long tangle of lashes flutter against his cheek the same way when he drifts between sleep cycles. He even smells like him, she notices, as she tucks her chin against his chest.

She rolls onto her other side, so her back is to him, hoping that it will allow for her mind to rest. When sleep finally takes her, she dreams of their last night on the beach, when he’d lovingly tucked her in and she imagined that beautiful meadow from the song she’d always sing. 

When she wakes, she’s immediately aware of the weight of his arm draped across her waist, and the firmness of his chest against her back. She peers at him over her shoulder, where his nose is nuzzled between her shoulder blades. 

It’s always hard to tell what time it is in Thirteen without windows, but they at least set the lighting system to simulate the sunrise and sunset, which they claim optimizes a person’s circadian rhythm. The overhead lights are starting to glow faintly, which means the morning alarm will sound in the next hour. 

She doesn’t want to disturb Peeta, but she needs to stretch her limbs from the cramped position she slept in. Her hips tip back, ever so slightly, bumping into his in the process, and she feels him, hard against her thigh. That dull ache strikes her again, creeping from her chest to low in her belly. She tucks her cheek back against her pillow and tries to ignore it, hoping to catch a few more minutes of sleep while she still can. In her lucid haze, she feels curious, though, and she swivels her hips back more deliberately. 

This seems to wake him, and he takes in a sharp sort of breath that’s caught in his throat. His arm tightens around her, hand splaying flat across her stomach to press her pelvis into his. He swells against her back, with an almost imperceptible thrust, while his breathing grows heavy in her ear. 

She remembers the feel of her own fingers circling between her legs the other night. It’s all she can think about with his fingertips brushing so close to the elastic of her sleep pants. It’s embarrassing how much she wants him to touch her, and while he wears his arousal fairly obviously, she can feel her own starting to dampen her underclothes. 

His hand dips lower, touching the bare skin from where her shirt rides up. She angles her hips toward him, and her legs fall open in invitation. He’s still moving against her, picking up his pace when she hooks her thigh over his. His fingers stretch, palm bracing her against him, as he ghosts over the fabric of her pants. So close. 

Her breath hitches in anticipation, and her hand covers his to urge it lower, but then his fingers start to flex, slipping from her hand, and he pulls himself out of bed abruptly. 

“I should go. The wake up call will be soon,” he reasons, as he hurries toward the door. 

She feels like she’s had the wind knocked out of her, and she slumps back on the mattress, haunted by the heat he’s left behind. She closes her eyes tightly and tries to calm the current humming through her body, but she’s still wound tight when the morning bells start to ring 30 minutes later. 

The next night, she sits in bed watching the door and waiting for the sound of his footsteps. She practically pounces when she hears him approach.

“Can’t sleep?” She says casually, bouncing lightly on her heels to hide how eager she is to see him. 

“Haymitch is snoring,” he says, and the light in his eyes, and the way his body seems to follow her every movement, like he’s caught in her magnetic field, makes her think he was just as eager. 

“Is that what it is?”

He drops his voice an octave, tipping his face toward her slightly to maintain discretion. “He’s been fermenting grape juice in the closet. The first bottle was rancid, but he said the next bottle was good. He finished them both.”

She steps aside so he can enter, and follows him into bed. There’s no pretense after that. She listens for him, opens the door, and then they sleep. Just sleep. 

People must know. There are cameras in all of the corridors, and Peeta sneaking into her room should draw concern, given that he’s tried to kill her. She wonders if maybe that’s why Coin allows it. 

During the day, they don’t talk about it. They play Real or Not Real, skating around mostly safe topics, and she even shows him the plant book they’d been working on, pointing out all of the sketches he did. That night he brings her a pile of scrap paper with all the various plants he remembers from the last arena, and the next day they find spaces for them, getting help from her mother, Finnick, and Annie for the ones they’re unable to identify.

She goes nearly a week without a nightmare, but one night she dreams she’s in the Capitol with Squad 451. Boggs steps on a landmine that blows him in half. Mutts whisper her name as they chase her through the streets. One catches Finnick and he’s ripped to shreds. Prim stands at the gates of the President’s mansion and catches a silver parachute, just as it explodes.

She’s trapped and can’t wake up. She feels like she’s underwater, paddling desperately toward the surface that only seems to drift further and further away.

“Katniss,” she hears her name whispered just like the mutts in her dream. She can’t escape it. “Katniss,” she hears again.

And then she feels his lips on hers. Firm and familiar.

“Katniss, it’s not real,” he says, and then he kisses her again. “Not real, Katniss. It’s not real.”

“Peeta?” She says, finally coming back to herself. She’s crying now because he’s here. Peeta. He came back to her. 

“Sorry,” he says, referring to the kiss. “You wouldn’t wake up.”

They’re both sitting up now. Her at the head of the bed and him in the middle. She’s still struggling to catch her breath from outrunning her nightmares, and she wants to keep them behind her, a thousand miles away if she can get there. She rolls forward on her knees to close the distance between them and kisses him again. It’s one of those kisses. One that awakens everything inside of her. One that will linger in her thoughts for months — maybe longer.

Whatever hesitation there was last time vanishes in an instance, and he pulls her into his lap, spreading her legs so they frame his hips. She’s the first to grind against him, and he pins her there with a hand on each thigh. She rolls her hips achingly slow along his length, separated by layers of sleep clothing, and she feels him harden beneath her. It makes her feel powerful, so she does it again, repeating the movement until he’s bucking up to match the motion. He urges her to lay back against her pillow, and his body blankets hers. He kisses her again, his tongue sweeping into her mouth with every thrust of his hips, like he’s making a map of her, in search of every place that makes her tick. 

He shifts his weight onto one arm, and his other hand sweeps down her body and under her shirt. He finds her breast, nipple pebbled within his palm, and when he pinches it between his fingers she hisses. He grins at the way she seems to unravel, and continues to massage her breast experimentally, to draw out new sounds until he’s satisfied. 

Johanna stirs in the bed beside them, and they freeze. Their eyes meet cautiously, waiting to be caught, but then Johanna just rolls over with a heavy sigh, and gives back into sleep. It doesn’t matter though, the spell has been broken.

“I should go,” Peeta says, sitting back on his knees.

Every nerve in her body seems to be thrumming. “Stay,” she insists.

His lips are swollen from their kisses and his sleep pants are still tented in his lap. He breathes deeply while he considers her request, but it’s obvious he can’t think clearly when all his blood has settled elsewhere. Eventually he nods, swiping his slick chin with the back of his hand and moving to adjust himself to effectively erase the impact of their activity, then he stretches back beside her.

She rolls onto her side to face away from him and stares at the wall. She knows she won’t be sleeping tonight, she’s too wired from her nightmares and now from the kissing too. 

She tips her hips back, hoping to find him again, but he’s facing the opposite way, pretending to be asleep. She can’t stand it anymore, this tension she feels around him that leaves her starved for release. If he won’t help her, she decides she’ll take care of it herself. She closes her eyes and tries to remember the feel of him hard between her legs, her toes curl in anticipation, as her hand dips beneath the elastic of her pants and underclothes. She gasps when her fingers sweep through her damp heat and circles her sensitive bundle of nerves.

Peeta rolls back over at the sound. “Katniss?” He murmurs, sounding exasperated when he realizes what she’s doing. His hand follows her arm to between her legs, where his fingers find hers. “Let me do it,” he grumbles in her ear. 

His breath hitches in the back of his throat when he touches her arousal, and he moves his fingers experimentally through her folds. “Have we done this before?” He whispers and she only shakes her head. His breath shudders again, sending a shiver down her spine, especially when she feels him tug her hips back to bump against his groin. “I couldn’t remember,” he says, and he must be talking about the other morning, when he was so quick to leave. “I thought I was having an episode.”

“No, this is real,” she says, her head lolling back against his chest, as he teases her center. “Keep going, I want you to.” She’s so wet that his fingers just slip around aimlessly, but when they finally find her clit, she lets out a strangled sounding cry before she can stop herself. He closes his other hand over her mouth to silence her, and then repeats the motion again with more confidence.

His hips are moving against her from behind, while his fingers circle around her clit with fervor. The sensation is overwhelming and she tries to anchor herself to anything she can wrap her hands around. The rigid muscles of his forearm as it flexes between her legs. His hand over her mouth. She reaches backward to touch his face, buried in the crook of her neck. His cheek is smooth, save for a short patch of stubble he must have missed while shaving. Her fingers tangle through his hair then settle around the nape of his neck to hold him steady. 

He lavishes the sensitive flesh along her throat. His teeth grazing lightly before his tongue swirls around her pulse point, sucking it between his lips. There will probably be a mark in the morning, but right now it feels too good for her to care. 

The pressure on her clit stills when he moves to dip a finger inside her. Her walls stretch then tighten around the intrusion. “More?” He murmurs, then grins against her neck at her eager nod. He adds a second finger, pumping them effortlessly through her arousal while using the heel of his hand to catch her cleft. 

It all feels so good, so impossibly good, she bites into his hand to keep from making a sound. He seems to like it, so she bites harder, until she breaks the skin. They’re practically feral as they move together in a frenzy of thrusts and strokes. She’s so close to cresting something when something strikes Peeta.

“Get off of her!” Johanna is shouting, standing over them with her History of Military textbook, which is the closest thing to a weapon within reach.

Katniss realizes how it must look, Peeta’s hand around her neck, while she shudders with desperate gasps. He rolls away quickly, and leaves their compartment without a word.

“We were just sleeping,” Katniss says defensively. 

"Who cares if you were fucking?” Johanna says. “You can’t be alone with him like that, he could kill you.”

At lunch the next day, Katniss can hardly look at anyone at the table. Her hair is down, and she smooths it over her neck constantly to hide the marks Peeta left across it. Peeta sits across from her, and she feels him watching her while he flexes his bandaged hand on the table.

“What happened to you?” Delly asks Peeta.

“I had an episode last night,” he lies, or maybe he isn’t. Maybe they both had a momentary lapse in sanity. “Bit my hand too hard trying to break out of it.”

“Good thing no one got hurt,” Johanna says pointedly. She turns her glare to Katniss. “So Katniss, hear from Gale recently?”

Katniss hunches further over her stew. “Yeah,” she mumbles. “They’re keeping count of all the pods they shoot down. Gale’s ahead of everyone else by nearly 100.”

“Must be killing you to not be there with him,” Johanna says coolly.

Katniss looks at Peeta and then looks away. They’re silent through the rest of the meal.

As they exit the cafeteria, Peeta pulls her aside to say, “Johanna’s right. We probably shouldn’t be doing this.”

*****

The rebels will be taking the Capitol any day now, and it’s decided that a Liberation Tour will take place. The surviving victors will stop at each district, en route to the Capitol, to distribute rations and gifts in celebration. Peeta volunteers to decorate sweets, and takes over the kitchen in Thirteen to do so.

Ever since he decorated the elaborate cake for Finnick and Annie’s wedding, people are fascinated to watch him work, and he’s in no short supply of assistants, starting an assembly line that at one point, Greasy Sae even joins.

Katniss is almost disappointed that his decorating has become so popular, because it means she never gets to see him. He’s always too busy demonstrating tasks and supervising others. And she misses him, now that he doesn’t sleep in her compartment anymore. 

On the last evening of prep, when he’s putting together the final touches, she finally catches him alone, and helps him clean up and pack the tiny boxes of chocolates.

“Where do you think you’ll go after all of this is over?” Peeta asks.

It’s a weird thought to have. When this is over. She never pictured making it to this point. “I don’t know,” she says. “Back to Twelve, I guess. There are too many rules here.”

He frowns. “Have you been back? Since…”

“A couple of times. Your house is still there in Victor’s Village. We went inside to borrow one of your suits for Finnick and Annie’s wedding. There’s a group of people who’ve already moved back. They’ve been sifting through the rubble before the ground freezes.” She takes a deep breath, dreading her next words, “Giving people a proper burial.”

His expression is impossible to read, and she doesn’t push it. She changes the subject instead. “What about you?” She asks brightly. “Where will you go?”

“I don’t know. Wherever they’ll let me,” he says. “I’m not sure the doctors in Thirteen are through with me yet, and there are some Capitol doctors from the hijacking program that are willing to help fix me, under the terms of their surrender.”

“You’d stay in the Capitol?” She asks, and the thought makes her sad, because even though there are so many bad memories there, Peeta always seemed to flourish in the Capitol. He could be happy there, now that they aren’t trying to kill him.

“You think Gale will go back?”

“To Twelve?” she says. She tries to picture the Gale from Thirteen, going back to making rabbit snares in the woods. “Probably not. I don’t see him being happy there. He’s too good at the whole ‘war thing.’”

“So are you,” Peeta argues. “You’re the Mockingjay, after all.”

“My abilities as a soldier start and end with my ability to shoot straight. You can ask Boggs, he’ll be happy to tell you all about it.”

“You’ve been begging to get back into the action for weeks now,” he reminds her.

Ske keeps her head bowed while she focuses on her work. “Because I wanted to be the one to kill Snow. For a while, that felt like the only thing I had left. If I cared about anything else, it might get taken away again.” She blinks rappidly to stop the tears threatening at the corners of her eyes, covering it with a half hearted laugh.

“But you don’t feel that way anymore?”

She meets his eye for a moment, then looks away. “I don’t know.”

“Is that why it’s been so hard? To choose?”

She rolls her eyes and pushes the box away once it’s full. It always comes back to this. She sets another empty box on the counter and begins to fill it. It's the last box left.

“What? Between you and Gale? Not you too,” she says flatly. “Why would you care? You don’t even like me.”

He ducks his head sheepishly at the remark. “Yeah, but I’ve got a lot of money riding on this.”

“Ah, the frivolous riches of a Victor. Sorry to say, but I’m not choosing anyone.”

The way he looks at her leaves her paralyzed beneath his gaze. “Good,” he says. “That’s what I was betting on.”

“In that case…” she says, trying to relieve the tension. It takes a moment for her knees to stop trembling, and she leans her entire weight on her elbows instead. “You should come back to Twelve. When this is over. You know, for Haymitch. We’re the only family he’s got left." She pauses, the words sitting like ash on her tongue. "We’re the only family you’ve got left.”

His smile is sad, as he returns his attention to his work, and she senses it’s time for her to go. “I’ll be okay,” he says. 

She turns to leave, but he stops her before she can reach the door when he says, “Hey, Katniss. You loved me -- before. Real or not real?”

It feels like all the air has been sucked from her lungs, and she stands there motionless. She turns, only enough to meet his eye from over her shoulder. “Real,” she finally allows herself to admit.

He nods thoughtfully a few times then returns to his work, and Katniss rushes out of the room before she does something stupid like tell him that she still does.

******

They leave the next morning. The remaining victors: Katniss, Peeta, Finnick, Annie, Johanna, Haymitch, and Beetee. They’re the only victors left. They take a hovercraft to Twelve, where a train is waiting. Not the cargo train that transported soldiers to the battlefields. This is the same train that took them as tributes to the Games. 

While in Twelve, they deliver aid and assist in the recovery effort. Katniss holds Peeta’s hand after he digs through the rubble, and locates a piece of the old bakery sign. He doesn’t say anything for the rest of the day, and he excuses himself as soon as they board the train, skipping dinner to retire to his private car. 

Katniss considers going to him, but Haymitch shakes his head. “It’s a lot for him to process at once,” he says. “I’ll keep an eye on him tonight.”

The train zigzags through the districts, and each night, Katniss has to remind herself that this is a good trip. That all of this will be over soon. During the day, she revels in the smiling faces who welcome them, knowing they’ll all sleep safely tonight with full bellies, and no worries of the Capitol’s wrath reaching them again. She finds herself sharing a train car with Johanna most nights, and they whisper over their fantasies of Snow meeting his final demise. 

When they visit District 4, they stop at the ocean. Even Johanna steps into the water, ankle deep, to absorb the salty air, and the blissful calm that comes with it. 

Finnick pulls them both aside on the beach. “We’re not leaving,” he tells them. “Annie and I, we’re staying. She’s pregnant, and the stress of going back there? She just doesn’t need that right now.”

Katniss hugs him tightly, and when Johanna hugs him too, she hears him tell her, “Give him hell for me.”

That night, Johanna is the one to lock herself away, so Katniss sits with Peeta and they linger in the dining car long after the meal has ended. 

Haymitch enters. “The rest of the tour has been postponed,” he tells them. “We’re heading straight to the Capitol?”

“Why?” Peeta says. “What happened?”

“Snow’s dead,” he says, and lets the statement linger into silence for a long moment, while the news sinks in. Katniss knows that both Peeta and Haymitch are waiting for her to respond. To laugh, to cry, to blink even, but she can’t seem to do anything at all. 

Peeta picks up the conversation for her. “How?” 

“A suicidal banquet was held after the rebels breached the mansion tonight,” Haymitch says. “They’re pulling his body in the morning.”

“Why wait?” Katniss says, finally finding her voice again. 

“They set the room on fire after, there might not be much left.”

“Were any of our soldiers hurt?” Peeta asks. 

“No,” Haymitch says, giving Peeta a reassuring grin. “We had some good intel.”

“So it’s over then?” Katniss says slowly. 

“They’re currently checking the line of succession as we speak. We’ll have to identify everyone who was in that room, then cross names off the list until we find the first one left alive. Hopefully, whoever that is, they’ve already been captured. But I know I’ll be sleeping better tonight.”

Katniss returns to her private car and orders a bouquet of white roses. She spends the rest of the night plucking each petal one by one until there’s nothing by bare stems left in the vase. She still doesn’t know how she feels. She’s not even numb, she’s just lost. They won, she should feel like they’ve won, but she doesn’t. It’s not even the fact that she wasn’t the one to deliver the killing blow. It was never a game. None of it. Nobody was ever going to win. It was no way to live.

When there’s a knock on her door, she doesn’t even have to guess who it is on the other side. “You okay?” Peeta asks. 

She shrugs. “Are you?”

“Will any of us ever be?” He replies. “Can I? Could I?” He asks shyly, nodding into her compartment. “Would that be all right?”

She steps aside wordlessly to welcome him into her bed. She couldn’t imagine spending this night beside anyone else, and they spend it like they have every night before, wrapped around one another to fend off the unknown horrors that could lie ahead. 

In the morning, they arrive in the Capitol, where Boggs is waiting to escort them.

“You decided to sweep in at the last minute to take all the credit?” He teases. Relief swells in her chest, and she doesn’t care if it’s against protocol, she hurls herself into his arms to hug him tightly. “I’m sorry I couldn’t keep my word, about Snow,” he says into her hair. “We couldn’t get to him in time.” 

She’s still conflicted by the news, but she’s too elated to see that Boggs is safe. “Who cares, the bastard’s still dead, right?” He looks at her warily. “And let Coin know, I have no interest in being a king maker. So long as you and Haymitch support her, I won’t stand in the way.” She leans forward to lower her voice. “I’m not telling her who I’m voting for, though.”

Boggs ruffles her hair affectionately. “Get out of here and go be a kid for once.”

“Sir, yes, sir,” she says with a mock salute as she backs away. 

Gale’s arms circle her a moment later and he swings her through the air. “About time you showed up. How was the vacation?”

“Vacation? More like giving you the opportunity to finally pull your weight around here.”

A hovercraft flies low overhead, showering silver parachutes below. One floats into her hands and she recognizes the intricate decorations on the packaging. It’s the sweets Peeta made in Thirteen, mixed in with the ration packs that are being supplied. She hands it off to an empty handed Capitol child, and searches the crowd for Peeta, but he’s already slipped away. 

******

It’s the first day of spring, her favorite day of the year.

Katniss wakes up at dawn and pulls on her father’s old hunting jacket. The morning air is still brisk with the bite of winter, but she doesn’t mind. She pulls out her thermos and warms her chest with a sip of pine tea. 

The fence is never charged anymore, but it still stands as a fortress around the district. Thom installed a few gates though, including one at Katniss’s request, right outside of Victor’s Village, and she slips out into the woods with ease. 

She checks her snares, then picks off a goose with an arrow. There’s a patch of mint that’s turned purple in the winter months, and she fills her spare satchel with it, picking off a few leaves to add to her thermos before she heads home.

As she cuts through the meadow, she pauses at the gaping hole in the earth that they hastily cleared out before the ground could freeze. They’ve filled it back in, best as they could throughout the winter, but the ground is lumpy and uneven. She notices the perimeter is dotted with a few dandelions, and she plucks them from the ground to lay upon the mass grave.

When she returns to Victor’s Village, she drops off her game bag, where Sae is eager to unload the day’s offerings, quickly putting her granddaughter to work prepping a stew to serve the volunteers later in the day. Katniss isn’t sure how this arrangement worked out exactly, Sae and her granddaughter moving into the spare bedroom in her house, but since there’s always a meal waiting for her whenever she comes home, she doesn’t mind it. 

The only part of District 12 that was left unscathed by the firebombs was Victor’s Village, and since the houses are huge, there are two to three families bunking in each one for now. That’s why it isn’t surprising to see smoke billowing from Peeta’s chimney across the way. Delly’s been living there along with all the other orphaned merchants who decided to return. 

Peeta’s house has a special oven that the Capitol installed when he moved in. It’s made of stone, the same type they had at the bakery, and can heat things at over 1000 degrees, twice as hot as standard kitchen ovens. Delly has been too nervous to get it started, and all of Katniss’s offers to figure out how to light it have been politely rebuffed (as if Katniss has a history of blowing things up), so every attempt at baking bread has been pale and lumpy. Judging by the thick smoke coming out of the chimney though, it looks like that may have changed today.

"Are we finally going to get the good bread today?” Katniss calls out as she crosses the courtyard toward his old house.

She’s stunned, stopping short at the base of the porch steps when it’s Peeta who opens the door. She hasn’t seen him since the liberation of the Capitol a few months ago. There were a few events they had to make appearances for, like the signing of the Treaty of Surrender, but then she went back to Thirteen, and eventually Twelve, while he stayed behind for treatment. 

“It’s been a while,“ he says. "We’ll have to see if I still have it in me.”

She’s rendered speechless, and can only blink dumbly in response. He looks good. His hair looks freshly cut, his skin looks clean, and he’s even put some weight back on, which was near impossible on Thirteen’s rations. He looks more at ease than she’s ever seen him, even before the first Games. His smile is bright, and he’s lost any trace of that clouded look he had before.

“You’re back,” she finally manages to say.

His smile widens. “Guess I am.”

“Since when?”

“The Capitol released me last week and my train didn’t get in until this morning,” he says.

“Delly didn’t mention it.”

“I kind of asked her not to. I hadn’t decided if I was coming back for sure, until I got off at the train station.”

“Does Haymitch know?” She says

“He’s the one who picked me up, actually.”

“Typical,” she says, folding her arms across her chest. “That man, always keeping secrets.”

“It was probably my fault,” Peeta admits.

“Don’t worry, I get it.” She shifts her weight between her feet. She can’t think of anything to say. All she knows is that she doesn’t want to leave. “How are you?”

“Better.”

“You look it.”

“Thanks, I think,“ he says with a laugh.

“No, I mean it. You’ve lost that,” she waves her hand in front of her face, “look.” She grimaces and shakes her head, she always says the wrong thing, but he doesn’t seem bothered. “It’s good to see you smiling again.”

He takes mercy on her by changing the subject. "Are your mother and sister back too?”

“No, they stayed in Thirteen to finish her doctor training. She has a few more years left in the program.”

“You didn’t stay with them?” He says, looking surprised. 

“Well, now that I’ve lost my Mockingjay privileges, I’d probably only last a week before they kicked me out for disobeying orders.”

“You think they’ll come back when she’s finished?”

“I hope so. Otherwise, I’m the most experienced healer in all of District Twelve.”

“We’re doomed.”

She laughs. “Hey, I treated you once, and you didn’t die, remember?”

“A ringing endorsement, if I’ve ever heard one,” he says wryly. “We’ll just have to strategically hide the fake leg.” Their laughter fades in the warming spring air, and they linger in silence.

She doesn’t want to go, but there isn’t a reason to stay either. She rolls her lips together, and gives him a formal nod. “Well I’ll let you get back to it,“ she says.

“Hey, you want to go out sometime?” He says abruptly, before she can step away.

“Like on a date?”

“If that’s what you want to call it,” he shrugs. He leans against the porch railing, tracing his finger along the worn wood while she mulls over the question.

“Seems kind of formal. Aren’t we technically married?”

His nose scrunches and he scratches behind his ear, letting out a nervous laugh. “I don’t know. Are we? That’s been a point of contention with my therapy. No one knows the answer for sure.”

“Not real,” she says.

"Good,” he says, nodding a few times before the corner of his mouth twitches into a small smile. “That’s probably something I’d want to remember.”

She’s caught off guard by the statement, when she shouldn’t be. He wanted it to be real, she’s always known that. What surprises her, is even considering marrying him some day, and thinking she wouldn’t mind it.

It’s too much to think about, so she quickly changes the subject. “Why would you want to go out with me anyway? You don’t even like me,” she reminds him.

He flashes a contrite smile, like he realizes he’ll never live that comment down. “Yeah,” he says, rubbing the back of his neck, and he tilts his head to the side to avoid the late morning sun. “But I think I could be persuaded.”

“Wow, that must have been some therapy,” she says dryly. 

“I don’t know, the objective was to make me sane…”

The statement hangs into silence, and he frowns, probably thinking she’s been deflecting his original question, and maybe she has. 

“You can say no, too,“ he says quickly, as if he senses the growing tension. "That’s kind of the point of asking. If you’re not interested I’ll buzz off. I don’t want you to think I only came back because I assumed I’d win by default.” He grimaces. “Because it’s not winning. You’re not some prize…”

"You doing anything right now?” She says, interrupting him.

“Aside from surgically extracting my foot from my mouth, not much.”

She grins. “I hope you don’t need a healer for that.”

He laughs, his smile bright and again at ease. 

"You want me to show you around?” She says.

His eyes cut across Victor’s Village, and then past the gate where the town used to be, before it was turned into rubble. “It didn’t look like there’s much to see, based on the last time I was here.”

“That’s because you don’t know where to look.”

While most of the area around the square is still piled beneath dense rubble that’s hard to clear, the structures in the Seam were all made of thin rotting wood, saturated in coal dust. When the fire bombs fell, there was barely even ash left behind, that’s how easily it burned. That’s where most of the rebuilding efforts have been focused since the end of the war. It’s a blank canvas. 

Of the eight hundred District Twelve survivors, fewer than two hundred have returned so far. Most have stayed in Thirteen. Others, like Gale and his family have relocated to other districts, since people are allowed to move freely between them now. While Twelve has started to rebuild, a lot of volunteers from other districts have come in on the train to help. They stay for a week or two at a time to offer spare tools and a helping hand. Now that the damage to the Capitol has been mostly cleared, they’re starting to ship heavy duty trucks, capable of moving a couple tons of stone and dirt at a time, far more than the fleet of horse drawn carts Twelve was initially using.

The Seam is close to the train station, because that’s where the tracks run — where the coal is. So they’ve set up some temporary trailers and tents for volunteers to stay, and a pop up market, made up of simple, covered stands, where they sort out goods for distribution. It’s also become the natural spot for trading basic services.

Katniss has her own stand, where she prepares pelts and deerskin leather when she has it. Delly joins her most days and helps her sew the smaller pelts together into something more usable. Unfortunately, deerskin isn’t great for shoes, but Delly has designed some fur lined work gloves that Katniss is getting pretty good at making too. Sometimes they make salves and herbal remedies using whatever plants Katniss has collected in the woods, and treat whoever is in need of it, since they both had extra medical training in Thirteen. It’s a real catch all kind of stand.

Delly’s the only other familiar face in Twelve to Peeta, so Katniss figures she’s the only other person he would be interested in seeing, and that’s where they go first.

Delly squeals when she sees him. “You made it!” She says, launching herself into his arms. Katniss becomes painfully aware that she didn’t think to hug him back when she first saw him. In fact, they’ve been hovering just out of the other’s reach through the mile walk over here. 

“I made it,” he confirms.

She pulls away. “Did you start the oven?”

“Nice to see you too, Delly,” he teases.

She ignores him and guides him a few stands over, where there’s a paltry spread of Delly’s pale, miss shapen loaves and a plate of neglected cookies.

“What is this?” Peeta says, trying not to sound too horrified, although he obviously looks it.

“The bakery,” Delly says.

“I made cookies,” Katniss chimes in weakly.

He touches her arm and smiles at her gently. “You made something,” he agrees. She should be annoyed with him for being condescending, but this is the first time he’s touched her in months, and all she can do is smile at him dreamily in response. He turns back to Delly. “Well you seem to have this covered, what do you need me for?”

“Fill this stand,” she says, unamused. 

“I was planning on helping out with the cleanup effort,” he says. All Katniss can focus on is his hand leaving her arm and tucking loosely into the pocket of his slacks. She misses his touch already, even with him standing right next to her.

“And what do you think all those volunteers are going to eat?” Delly says.

“There aren’t any bread bushes in season,” Katniss adds. “I checked.” This earns her another smile, and it emboldens her to brush his arm this time.

Peeta takes notice, watching the tentative path of her fingers down his forearm while he rolls his bottom lip between his teeth. “I suppose I can find the time to do both,” he says, catching Katniss’s hand in his, and their joined hands hang between them.

“Funny how that worked out,” Delly says, a knowing glint in her eye. 

“Well seeing as you and Katniss are able to clothe, feed, and heal the entire district on a daily basis, it’s the least I can do.”

Delly is distracted by something over Peeta’s shoulder. “There’s Thom,” she says. “I’m going to check to see if we’re still on schedule for today. Katniss, is Sae working on supper?”

“Goose and rabbit stew,” she confirms.

“How do I look?” she asks Peeta.

He looks perplexed. “I don’t know? Cold?” he says, noting her flushed cheeks.

She rolls her eyes and turns to Katniss for approval. “You look great,” she says.

“What was that about?” Peeta says as Delly saunters away.

“You of all people have to ask?”

His eyebrows lift with understanding. “Oh,” he says, looking embarrassed for not recognizing it sooner. He looks down at their joined hands, and brushes his thumb over her knuckles, then retracts it to comb his fingers through his hair. “Well it sounds like I have to get started on a couple dozen loaves of bread for tomorrow, so I should probably get going.”

“You’ll need supplies for that, right? I can get you a cart and show you the storage warehouse.”

Thom gets them a spare cart and Katniss helps Peeta fill it with flour, salt, sugar, and yeast. He jokingly asks if there’s an industrial stand mixer stashed away, and she knows he isn’t serious, but she’s pretty sure she can pull a few strings through Sae or Boggs or Prim to get one shipped in from kitchen in Thirteen. “Give me a few days,” she says. 

“How’d I know you were going to say that,” he says, loading the last of the flour into the cart. 

The ride back to Victor’s Village is long, since the cart constrains them to only the cleared trails. Peeta looks awkward behind the reins, lifting and pulling on them occasionally, even though the horses know the paths well enough to walk them on their own. 

“It’s kind of a dark thought,” he begins, after they’ve been riding in silence for a while. “But you would have made a good mentor.” She looks at him quizzically. “You’re resourceful,” he elaborates. “You know exactly what’s needed and how to get it. You took a district made only of ash and figured out a way to thrive.”

“I hardly did it on my own,” she says. 

“Take the compliment,” he says, his grin teasing. “It’s a part of my therapy.”

“Being nice to me?”

His eyes don’t leave the road. “Identifying the qualities that explain my feelings towards you.” 

She purses her lips while she studies his face. “I have a list too,” she admits. “I started it kind of late — later than I should have. And hadn’t even realized I had started it at all, but while you were…” she trails off with a sigh. “Not at your best. I made a list of the qualities you still had. To remind myself that you were still in there somewhere.”

“Yeah? Like what?”

“Well, you decorated Finnick and Annie’s wedding cake so beautifully, so you were still a painter, and a baker. And you wandered the corridors at night because there were no windows in the Thirteen compartments. You could never sleep without opening a window, it always made you feel suffocated. There were smaller details too. You never took sugar in your tea. And you double knotted your shoelaces,” she finished, nodding toward the laces on his boots. 

They sit in silence for a long moment. “I’m sorry,” she says quietly. “For giving up on you.”

His smile is easy, but strained. “I don’t blame you. I said some pretty awful things to you.”

“Nothing that I didn’t need to hear.”

“You didn’t deserve it,” he says adamantly. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“Neither did you.”

The cart pulls up to Peeta’s house and she helps unload it. “I’ll go bring this back,” she says, taking the reins. 

He stops her with a hand on her hip, and she pauses on the step of the cart, turning to face him. “Well, goodnight Katniss,” he says, lingering shyly.

She stays there too, waiting. Finally he works up the nerve, and brushes a chaste kiss against her lips. It’s over almost before it begins, but somehow it leaves her feeling like she’s flying. She can’t stop smiling, and he can’t either. They’ve shared hundreds of kisses, thousands even, but she thinks this may be her favorite kiss of all.

******

When she wakes, the other side of the bed is still warm. Her fingers stretch, tickled by the coarse hairs that pepper his chest. Her palm flattens across the broad expanse, where she can feel it rise and fall rhythmically. She lets her hand drift lower, the muscles in his abdomen tensing beneath her touch as she brushes past his belly button, to where the blanket is draped over his lap.

When they started sleeping together a few weeks ago, he teased her for immediately getting dressed after. She was always worried about something happening in the night that would require a quick escape. “What if you were naked,” she’d asked, and he only laughed and said, “Then I’d be naked outside.”

Sae’s got her granddaughter downstairs though, so now he puts his undershorts back on to sleep in, so he can remain decent, just in case. 

“No nightmares?” He says now, his voice still husky from sleep.

“Not today,” she says. Today is the first time in seventy six years that there won’t be a reaping. "Today is a good day.”

She tugs on the elastic waistband of his undershorts to free him, then wraps her fingers around his velvety skin. He hardens quickly within her palm, and she shifts in the bed, sitting up to hover over him. 

“A very good day,” he agrees, his eyebrows quirking upwards and his smile lazy when she takes him into her mouth. He hums his approval. “I think I could spend the whole day right here.”

She hitches a leg over his waist to straddle him, and he catches the hem of her nightgown as it rides up, stripping it up over her head. “They’re having a celebration in the town square this afternoon,” she says, hissing when he weighs one of her breasts in his hand. “At two. We should be there.”

He groans. “We can sleep in then.”

She leans forward to kiss him, and he takes advantage of this new position, tipping her hips back to roll her center against his length.

He grins, carding his fingers through her loose hair to push it behind her shoulders. She loves when he smiles while he kisses her. His lips are pulled tight, so it’s shallow and full of teeth, but he’s happy. A few months ago, it felt impossible that he’d ever feel that way around her again, so now she revels in every sign of it.

She breaks the kiss and smiles apologetically. “My mother and sister are coming for it. Their flight gets in this morning.”

He grimaces, checking the sunlight trickling into the room to gauge what time it is. “When? Am I going to have to sneak out the window?”

“At least you’ll be decent,” she teases.

He pins her hips and bucks his off the mattress to thrust against her a few times. “Hey now, you started this,” he reminds her.

“Under much duress on your part,” she says, biting her lip when his fingers dip between her legs. His thumb swirls through her slick heat, circling her clit lazily.

“Exactly. I’m not sure I even like you.”

She arches an eyebrow as she poises his hardened cock at her entrance, his want for her clearly evident. “Still?”

She sinks down onto him and his eyes slip shut. He smiles, content. “No, I think it might be something else.“

“Something else, huh?”

As they move together, she knows this would have happened anyway. That her fire always needed his gentle strength to survive. That she could live a hundred lifetimes, and always find herself right here.

So after, she asks him, “You love me. Real or not real?”

And he tells her, “Real.”

[admiringlove]

hurtful things

+synopsis: genshin boys and the hurtful things they said.

+genre: angst; headcanons.

+characters: kaeya; diluc; childe; zhongli.

+warnings: swearing; crying; implied panic attack.

+order: hey bubs! i saw you doing requests and i HAD to ask for genshin angst :) spare me some tears pls <//3 preferably w kaeya or diluc or childe :) [submitted by @crackheadsara​]

+author’s note: okay so i included zhongli bc he’s the love of my life, also i needed comfort from him after writing such hurtful things :D

+navigation: main menu, genshin menu.

— KAEYA.

“i’m better off without you.”

you know from the way your door was knocked in the middle of the night on a weekday after months, that it’s kaeya. you rub your eyes sleepily, trudging towards the door as anger and doubt fuse into a nasty green in your mind. 

you unlock the door, pulling it open to see the man with the eyepatch tapping his foot on the deck of your home impatiently. he smirks when his eye lands on you, attempting to walk in but stopping himself when he realizes you're standing at the door, unmoving. 

"kaeya, it's three in the morning. and it's monday. i have to report to jean in three hours," you mumble tiredly as you look up at him. the lamp grass by your windowsill outside and the moonlit night accentuated his cerulean eyes and contrasting coffee-colored skin. he frowns, peering down at you as he asks, "may i come in?"

you shrug, opening the door wide as you let the man in. he places his sword on the table and proceeds to walk into the bedroom when you ask, "where have you been for the past two weeks?"

"work," his reply is the same. you let out a sigh in impatience as you retort, "that's the same excuse as always."

he was tired and wanted to sleep off the fatigue from his latest mission. but when he hears you say that, something in him snaps and he turns around, his jaw clenched and a fixed glare making you a little agitated. he raises an eyebrow as he says, "well, unlike you, i am an actual important member of the knights of favonius."

"kaeya, all i meant was that you're always gone. you never write a letter back even if i send you one, and you somehow manage to come back every single time, expecting that it doesn't hurt me. what am i supposed to do?" your voice is small as you look down, hair drooping towards the ground. you're not even yelling at him, you're just worried. he always leaves you alone(sometimes you tag along, but you couldn't tell why nowadays he'd leave you alone without some sort of warning).

"does it ever occur to you that you're just a hindrance?" he bites back, thinking that you're trying to put up a front. you flinch at his words, causing him to force a jeer before he starts again, "you always come along, so maybe i wanted to be away from you for a bit. that's why i leave without a warning so i don't have to tend to your yapping all day. because i'm better off without you."

you gasp as you look up to his figure, now retreating to your shared bedroom. you hear him fall onto the bed with a content sigh as you stand there, wiping at your tears incessantly as hiccups escape your lips. you bit your tongue to stop yourself from crying, pressing a hand on your mouth to muffle the sounds so you don't disturb kaeya. you get a quick peek in, eyes widening when you see him sound asleep and tucked in. 

so that's how it was, you think. 

the next morning, kaeya wakes up to a cold bed as his arm reaches out to an empty space. his eyes immediately pry open as he wakes up, to see that you weren't here. 

ah, he ponders to himself, you must've gone to tend to your duties. 

he stretches, letting out a yawn before walking out to the kitchen. he smiles when he sees a plate of food left for him on the countertop with a note from you. but somehow, something felt very wrong about this whole ordeal. this had happened before—he had come back from insanely long missions to you before, so what felt different?

and then it hits him. the things he said last night. he frantically looks around, his azure eyes completely drowned in horror as he notices small changes in your shared household. a few picture frames are missing on the living room walls, your keychain isn't on the bookshelf anymore, and worst of all, when he runs into the closet, half of your clothes are gone. 

did you really feel that bad about what he said?

in panic, he runs out and keeps going till he reaches the headquarters of the knights. he barges in this time, not returning the greetings of the guards upfront as he walks into jean's office. 

"where are they?" he pants, "i-i messed up, do you know where they are?"

jean's eyes widen as she says, "our associates were having a hard time handling with the fatui in liyue harbor so they volunteered to go there for sometime."

"how long has it been?"

"they left long ago, it's about to be around ten hours since," she says. kaeya's heart shatters as he hears those words. he hadn't expected you to outright leave like that, but if you had said the same things to him, he definitely would've stormed out. his voice cracks as he looks at the ground in shame, "h-how long until they'll be back?"

"i.. don't know."

he regrets everything he's said. he truly does because he doesn't even notice that tears are streaming down his cheeks until jean comes to his aid. he hates himself for all of it—he hates that he has to live in a home where traces of you are visible everywhere; worst of all, he hates how he knows he lost you for good. even if you come back, he knows you wouldn’t run and melt into his arms like you did before. you’re gone now, fading into the darkness and away from him. 

maybe it was for the best.

— DILUC.

“you’re nothing but a burden.”

after taking on a few abyss mages and mitachurls, diluc lets a grunt out in pain before you see the slash on his right arm. you gasp, pulling him to the side of the lake as you pull out a bandage and cotton from your bag to clean his wounds. he's reluctant to it at first, but he sits there quietly and broods as you clean the blood with cotton and some type of healing ointment. 

you tie the bandage on his arm, a tiny bit of vermillion liquid seeping through the white cloth before sitting down next to him, finally catching a breath. sighing, you look up at him and say, "that was reckless."

"no, what you did was reckless. who told you to come along with me to dadaupa gorge? you knew what you were getting into when you came along, so don't put this on me," he grumbled, frowning as you look at him with narrowed eyes and furrowed brows. you are sort of hurt, but you know he's only saying this in faux indignation, so it's okay. you chuckle out, beginning, "diluc, i was-"

"i don't know why i even bother with you at this point," he exasperates, looking into the distance behind you. he curses slightly under his breath, his rouge eyes filled to the brim with anger as it finally overflows, "you're nothing but a burden."

your eyes suddenly flick to gape at him in disbelief. you stand up, your voice hitching in your throat as you ask, "diluc, you mean that?"

and it all simmers down into ashes when he mumbles "of course i do" under his breath. your vision is blurry as you walk away from the red-haired man, your body trembling as you almost give away that you're crying your eyes out. you walk back in the direction the two of you came from, leaving your broken heart in the hands of diluc, who sat by the lake not muttering a word after. 

he knows he's said things he doesn't mean; he does that all the time, but you probably knew that. he figures you're leaving to catch a breath of fresh air—to be away from the tension-filled environment for a bit, you had a habit of doing that at home. he sighs as he ponders over his words for a bit. he knew it was wrong to display such harshness to you, but you probably knew he didn't mean anything by it. he always bubbled over rash things when he was frustrated. 

the sun sets in front of him, painting hues of aubergine and peach as it flows down. he wonders where you are, getting up from his spot by the lake to venture towards the path you walked off. 

only when he can't find you, is when he thinks that you might've actually taken offense to his words. although he cares about you sincerely, he finishes his mission first, getting a lead on the abyss order—because protecting monstadt was his first priority. you lingered in his mind every second of every day till he finally got back home. and when he didn't find you there, he asks adelinde about it, who only shakes her head and tells him, "i'm sorry, master diluc, but i haven't seen them come back. i thought they were with you."

it all pieces together in his mind now, how a small gasp had escaped your lips when he had called you a burden. the way you nodded begrudgingly, getting up and walking away from his presence as your shoulders trembled. the way he could hear you choke back a sob, but still ignored it, thinking you had overreacted in the situation. 

he searches the whole city for you. he searches every nook and corner, and even walks into the headquarters of the knights of favonius(he ignores kaeya's teases instead of biting back this time). and when he finally sees you, he holds himself back. his hand is suspended awkwardly in the air as he reaches out for you, your back turned towards him. 

maybe this was better—maybe it was a good thing that you had walked away from him. this way, the abyss order won't be able to harm you. this way, he won't be able to harm you. this way, you'll be safe and sound, away from the storm known as diluc ragnvindr.

— CHILDE.

“it’s not like you mean anything to me.”

it's not often you see childe. he's always in liyue, and you're here, stuck in monstadt or snezhnaya. it's cold today(as it always is) in snezhnaya, the snow covered almost everything outside as you looked out of your window, sipping on hot coffee as you sigh at the wilting roses on the sill. they'd wilted when you had gone to monstadt and you didn't have the heart to plant new ones.

just thinking about the blue-eyed childish man would make your heart bloom and cheeks flustered. you longed to spend more time with him, really. if only he wasn't affiliated with the fatui, he'd be able to spend more time with you. it had been months since you had seen him, and you longed to be in his arms once again, but who knows when that'll happen again? whenever he comes home, he chooses to spend a night with you and then head back. he'd laugh alongside you, tell you about his adventures, and give small reactions when you told him about yours. and the next morning, you'd wake up to an empty bed with a small note by the table, saying how he has to leave for work.  

a knock at your door snaps you out of your entranced state. as you open the lock and look out, you see childe, standing there with a tired grin and disheveled hair as he walks in without a word. he hands you a small paper bag, saying, "i brought you back something from liyue this time."

the same excuse, you think. it's always the same. he brings back small mementos and souvenirs as a pretense for staying, and by the time you think you can forgive him, he's gone. he plops down onto the sofa, stretching his arm out so you could join him. the thought of confronting him crosses your mind, but you shake it off—since he had only just gotten back. 

the night is the same as always. talking about each others' adventures, eating dinner by the fireplace, laughing alongside one another until you hit the bed. it's quiet now as you watch over his sleeping figure, his lapis-colored eyes now hidden. you sigh as you lay there for hours on end, twiddling with his brown hair as you wait for him to wake up(so this time you can actually say goodbye). 

when his eyes flutter open, he's a little taken aback when he looks over at you to see you wide awake. his brows furrow just a smidge as he says, "you're up."

"well, i wanted to say goodbye this time," you chuckle dryly, "you always leave without waking me up."

"i don't like the way you said that," he says, getting up from his position on the bed. you look away from him, your eyes displaying hurt as you murmur, "i don't like the way you leave."

"well, it's my job. it's not like i'm an adventurer like you, wasting my time around. i'm a harbinger and i have responsibilities," he says. his voice is neither too soft and nor too prickly, and you can tell that he's a little worked up by the way he lightly nips on the skin of his bottom lip as his gaze bores into you. 

"i didn't say you don't. all i said was that you could maybe sometimes stay for more than one night. it feels like you're using me, and when you're bored, you leave."

"oh?" he cocks an eyebrow as he stands up, "i'm using you, huh?"

you grimace at the tone of his voice, and when you look at him, you notice the sheer annoyance he puts up towards you. your voice is small when you ask him if he loves you—because you don't know anymore. seeing him once in a few months for the past few years has sure hurt you more than anything, and if you don't tell him now, then you might never get a chance. 

"what if i say i don't?" he smirks, walking up to you, "it's not like you mean anything to me. what if i agree that i am using you to make myself happy until i'm bored, so i can then throw you away?"

he doesn't like what he's saying either. his mind is screaming at him to stop, but he's worked up. he's irritated by the way you jabbed at him first thing in the morning, even though he knows you're right. his heart almost stops when he looks at the expression on your face after he says those words, and as he reaches out his hand for you, you turn away. 

your voice cracks, and he's sure his heart did as well when you mumble, "i-i'd like you to leave, please."

"wait, i didn't mean-"

"tartaglia," your eyes look into his, perhaps for the last time, as you give him a sad smile, "you don't have to come back to me anymore."

it hurts him as he leaves your home that morning. it hurts him when he comes back months later to see that your home is now empty. it hurts him because he tarnished the you that was once his. 

it hurts him, but he thinks it's for the best if you stay away from him if all he does is bring you pain.

— ZHONGLI.

“i’d like you to leave me alone.”

zhongli was never one to pick fights. he was peaceful; his thoughts were positive(most of the time), and he almost always preferred to talk about his problem rather than fighting about it—he believes that fighting will only bring pain, so why not confide in one another about our problems instead?

he's quiet. he's not shy(it's quite the opposite, actually), but he's one to prefer to only talk when absolutely necessary. he's the type to listen rather than speak, saying something like, "we have two ears and one mouth. speak less than you listen."

he smiles when his mind goes back to the time when he said that to you while having a cup of tea together, and you'd replied, "my mother used to tell me that when i was a child."

because it's true; every child in liyue harbor has heard those words at least once in their lives. the quality of listening is appreciated more than the quality of speaking—and zhongli, for one, was a listener. 

you, on the other hand, were a speaker. you always woke him up every morning with a smile as bright and everlasting as the sun, babbling about breakfast and tea as he got up from the bed. you were the one that carried conversations on your shoulders on morning walks, you were the one that intertwined your fingers with his as the two of you walked amongst flowers, adoring them as you talked about the contrasting colors of silk flowers and glaze lilies. he loved you for that. he loved you because you were a speaker. he loved you because you were a perfect balance, the only one who could soften his hardened heart. the only one whom he'd chosen to wake up next to in the mornings, the only one whom he'd let ruffle his hair without asking(because he secretly liked it). 

so why had he reversed the roles tonight? why was he the one to bubble out his frustrations to you, speaking in a cold and stern manner instead of the loving tone that was only reserved for you? why was he the one to speak tonight, and why were you the one to listen?

it's not like he was actually frustrated—he was only thinking about something else as you asked him what he wanted for dinner. it surely wasn't your fault when he had poured over turbulent words to you. and he knows that the ones that hurt the most probably were, "i'd like you to leave me alone."

he looks up at the stars, a heavy sigh escaping his lips as he walks back into his shared home with you. he looks around, and when there's no sign of you, he feels himself break apart even more. 

had you actually left? he wants to run to you and tell you he hadn't meant any of those words because he hadn't. he wants to touch you, to caress you, to please you, to make you smile—and he wants to admit he was wrong. he wants to make it right, but he doesn't know where you are. 

he walks into the empty bedroom, sitting on the cold mattress as his eyes sting. he doesn't understand what's happening, or why there are small drops of water falling from his eyes. he doesn't understand why everything feels heavy all of a sudden—his heart, his throat his lungs, everything. he doesn't understand why he feels like he's trapped in a box, and the water seems to be filling up more quickly than he'd prefer. he wants to reach for air, but he can't.

he couldn't breathe without you. 

he hears the door close and immediately gets up in haste to walk to the living room where he sees you take off your boots. you turn around to see him, his disheveled hair and frantic eyes finally calming as he walks over to you and engulfs you in a warm embrace. his throat cleared up, and so did his heart and lungs as he mumbles against your ear, "i'm so sorry."

you smile smally, looking up at him as you cup his cheeks and wipe a stray tear, and mutter, "it's okay, zhongli. stress gets to the best of us."

god, how he loves you. he places a small peck on the top of your forehead as he feels his lips turn upward at your touch and the scent of glaze lilies lingering over you tells him that you'd been to the flower garden. he sleeps with your fingers weaved with his that night and pulls you even closer if you untangle with him in sleep. 

he makes a promise to himself saying he'd never hurt you like that again, and he keeps it.

© all works belong to admiringlove on tumblr. plagiarism is strictly prohibited.