#and even then it's only turning off the animated snowfall

[lemonbubble]

video: it's the holiday season! me (<-southern hemisphere): well, this is true i guess, i am not feeling excluded from the target audience just yet video, 1 second later: [stock animated snow falling overlay] me: ah. there it goes.

[pineconepie]

Parental yandere vampire!!

TW: Implied neglect, implied abuse, yandere, parental yandere, forced age regression, death of family (not main characters), light violence, kidnapping

If there's any more trigger warnings I should add, let me know!

...

The cold gnawed at your bones, breath visible in front of you as you made your way through the thick snowfall. The chill bit into your skin, but you pressed on.

"Monster!" "Witch!" "Cursed!"

Their words echoed in your mind. The entire village thought you were some kind of monster, all because you were different from your peers. You were used to the kind of horrible treatment you received at their hands, and had long since learned not to fight it; no matter what you said, they never listened.

It got lonely never having friends, though. Even the people who weren't scared of you were ridiculed for being seen with you, sometimes even being called a witch just because they associated with you.

Your own family became embarrassed and ashamed by your reputation, to the point where they would go days ignoring your existence.

Sure, you had thought of running away before, but given you had nowhere to go, that'd just be a dumb idea.

Only when you overheard the church speaking of burning you at the stake did you realize just how little you actually had to live for there.

Either way, it seemed like your chances of death were high, so either way, fuck it, right?

You could barely feel your feet beneath you, wading through the snow.

How long have you been walking now? Hours? Days?

It feels like years. You felt tears burn at the edges of your eyes as you tripped over a root, collapsing into the soft cushioning of the snow.

A snarling noise behind you causes you to get back up and run, stumbling blindly and weakly through the snow.

You could barely tell what was going on behind you, but all you knew was that a vicious growl from some sort of animal was definitely not something you should just stand around for.

In the distance, you see a structure, probably the first one you've seen in days.

With some sudden rush of adrenaline, you sprint towards it, almost rolling down the hill leading up to the old building.

The steel gate in front of it makes you curse in frustration, looking up to assess how likely it is you can climb it. Your hands curl into fists around the bars, shaking violently as you pull. Not a chance.

"Help!" you scream, hoping whoever is inside can hear you. "Please!"

When there's no response, you turn back, seeing glowing yellow eyes approaching you. Fear courses through your veins, paralyzing you as you look on in horror. The shadowy beast prowls closer, standing tall on its four paws and staring you down hungrily.

Just as it stalks forward, ready to jump, it pauses. You squeeze your eyes shut and prepare for the inevitable. When the sharp fangs never come sinking into your flesh, you hesitantly crack an eye open. The beast whines and scampers off.

Only when the sound of its footsteps disappear completely does a breathy laugh escape your lips. What a weird twist of fate.

"My goodness! Are you okay?!"

You whip around to see a tall figure with piercing green eyes and long dark brown hair. He's wearing some kind of old-fashioned clothing that looks like it hasn't been touched in centuries.

Before you can say anything, you promptly pass out from exhaustion.

...

"You poor thing. I wonder where you came from..." A hand reaches down to caress your face, the gloved fingers ice cold against your flushed skin. "Seems as if you were meant to find me."

When you finally stir awake, your brain feels like it's rattling in your skull. Blinking slowly, you bring your hand up to rub at your temple, sighing and looking around. You're lying in a large canopy bed, soft red velvet sheets encompassing you.

Sitting up, you take note of the grandiose bedroom, decorated in similar deep shades of red, gold, and black.

There's antique furniture lining the room, with a large painting above the mantlepiece directly across from the foot of the bed. An embroidered carpet is spread on the floor, its design weaving into the same complex, golden filigree that is the headboard of the mattress.

Your gaze drops, noting that you aren't wearing the same clothes you were before.

Now you're wearing some kind of tunic, reminiscent of pajamas but far too fancy and extravagant to be called something so simple. The silk hugs your frame, falling delicately across your lap as you cross your legs and take a look around.

Then you meet his gaze.

He looks surprised that you woke up already, pulling his hand back quickly from where it was about to rest on your shoulder.

He had been watching you sleep, it seems.

The man clears his throat and smiles down at you. "Oh good. I thought for sure you'd sleep through dinner." His voice is deeper than you'd expected, but still gentle. He gestures to himself. "I am Octavian. What's your name, precious?"

"Uh–" You hesitate, caught off guard by the nickname. "I'm (Y/n)."

"A sweet name," he says simply, the corner of his mouth quirking up even more. Octavian reaches down to brush a strand of hair out of your face before straightening back up again.

You watch him cautiously, unsure why he's so comfortable touching a complete stranger.

Then again, you suppose most strangers don't magically appear outside of someone's home, either. Besides, he did just save your life; he deserves at least this much courtesy after helping you.

"It's been a very long time since I've seen anyone out here, let alone gotten any visitors. What on earth were you doing out here all alone? You certainly aren't a traveler, you barely were carrying anything with you." He looks almost ready to scold you.

"Well, uh..." You awkwardly tug at the sleeve of your nightgown, thinking how best to answer his question without opening the door for him to judge you or ask more questions. But he did save your life... "My village doesn't like me. Thinks I'm weird. And when they started talking about killing me, I figured it'd be better to get out sooner rather than later."

Octavian sucks in a sharp breath, concern written all over his features. "Killing you?" He puts a hand over his heart. "You poor thing. You must've been so scared," he coos.

"Yeah... I was," you admit. "I'm glad I ran into your place, at least."

The tall man gives you a soft smile, sitting down at the edge of the bed. It dips beneath him under his weight. "I am too. Stay right there, I'll go get you some dinner."

Before you can say anything else, Octavian slips out of the room.

You think back to when he found you. That animal chasing you acted scared when it saw him. Why? Sure, he's pretty tall, but the guy clearly wouldn't stand a chance against the teeth and claws of that thing. So why was it so spooked by him?

He reenters with a golden tray in hand. On top of it sits a bowl of soup and some bread.

"I'm afraid that's the only thing I have available at the moment," Octavian sighs, setting it down next to you and handing you a spoon. "It should warm you up though." He watches you eat with an adoring smile, one you miss, too busy ravaging into the food. "My Gods, you must've been starving. When was the last time you ate, sweetheart?"

You scarf down a piece of bread. "I haven't been keeping track of time. Maybe three days ago?"

Octavian almost appears on the verge of tears. "You poor little angel..." He hesitantly reaches his gloved hand over to wipe away a stray droplet of broth dribbling down your chin. "You won't ever go hungry again, I swear it."

"What do you mean?" you mumble while chewing on another piece of bread.

He gently wipes at your cheek. "You got some on your face. Messy thing," he tuts. His green eyes glow brighter. Unnaturally so. "I'll go refill your bowl. More bread?" He watches you nod, then takes the tray from you.

It was weird how he avoided your question, but you shrug it off. Seems like he's a little weird too.

...

After having four bowls of soup and God-knows-how-much bread, you finally start to feel full for the first time in ages. Octavian watches with pride as you polish off each meal, praising you for cleaning your plate every single time.

In the middle of him gushing over you, you interrupt him.

"So... Do you think I could use your horse tomorrow morning to head back into town?" you ask shyly. "Assuming you have one."

Octavian freezes, brows furrowing as if in confusion. "(Y/n)... surely you don't think I'm just going to send you back to the people that are trying to kill you?"

"Well, not mine... just a town nearby," you shrug. "Anywhere with people, really."

He pinches the bridge of his nose in frustration. "There is no other civilization for miles. No. That'd just be a death wish."

You try not to raise your voice, reminding yourself it's thanks to him you're even alive. "Then what am I supposed to do?"

He opens his mouth to argue, but snaps it shut before taking a deep breath. "You need some rest. Let's discuss this later." You frown in frustration, knowing he's avoiding talking about it. Though he has a point. Sleepiness settles within you, a yawn bubbling past your lips. He bends down to kiss your forehead. "Sweet dreams, little love."

He's so weird.

...

The next day, you venture from the room he put you in, looking around. As to be expected, everything is beautifully furnished, from the wallpaper to the ceilings to the marble columns holding it all up.

In your searching, you stumble upon a portrait.

There's a tall man holding two children, with a woman standing next to him. It takes you a minute before you realize the man is Octavian.

He looks exactly the same in the portrait, except now his hair is slightly longer and he's wearing different clothes. Something in his appearance also seems happier.

You squint at the picture, wondering what's up with it.

"That's my family."

You jump, turning to see Octavian standing beside you, eyes glazed over as he gazes at the painting.

"Oh. They're beautiful," you whisper. You can hear him suck in a shaky breath. "Are they here?"

A melancholy smile pulls at his lips, though it doesn't meet his eyes. "No. My wife and my son and daughter... they're no longer here." His voice is far quieter than before.

Your chest grows heavy when you realize what he means. "I-I'm so sorry..."

The last thing you were expecting was for this to be so sad. Here you thought the picture was taken recently. Guilt pools in your belly for thinking that, especially now that you know the truth. Poor guy.

Octavian places a gentle hand on your shoulder. "Don't apologize. I think my loneliness streak is nearing its end." He guides you away from the painting and to the stairs. "Let's go eat. Breakfast should be ready by now." You're silent, not sure how to respond.

Walking down the ornate staircase, Octavian keeps his hand placed firmly on the small of your back.

Once you both reach the ground level, he removes it, walking ahead into the kitchen area. Following, you sit down across from him, watching as he places food in front of you both.

"It feels nice to cook for someone else again," he hums, beginning to dig into his own plate of food.

It smells really good, which you suppose you shouldn't be surprised by given the fact that everything else in this house seems to be perfect in its presentation.

"Thank you," you mutter, picking up the silverware and eating.

The two of you talk idly throughout the meal, Octavian being mindful of what you like and don't like to eat for future reference.

He asks you about yourself, appearing invested in every little tidbit you drop. Eventually, you're finally satiated, leaning back against your chair with a pleased sigh.

You watch him do the dishes and leave into what you presume is the living room. Curiously, you follow after him.

He's holding an open book, reading glasses perched on his nose.

The fire flickers and crackles, providing heat to the otherwise chilly space.

Sitting down next to him, you catch his eye. Octavian smiles at you and scoots closer, putting one arm around you and shifting his eyes back to his book.

Unsure of how else to react, you lean into the embrace. He's very cold compared to most people, you find.

The gesture is welcome though, regardless of the cool chill of his skin. Even through his gloves, you can tell his body temperature isn't normal.

If he came from your village, the villagers would definitely think he's some paranormal beast too.

Maybe that's why he lives so secluded from society.

...

A few more days pass. He gets a little more odd, but it just makes you more comfortable to show your own quirks too.

One morning, you wake up next to a teddy bear placed between your arms. He must've put it there last night.

It's almost like he senses you're awake, because he strides into the room not even a minute later.

"There's my sweet little angel," Octavian coos. "Did you sleep well?" You yawn and rub at your eye with a closed fist. He gives you a bright smile at that and sits on the edge of the bed. "Do you like your toy? I figured it might keep you company while I'm gone. Does it help?"

"Yeah, but..." You frown. "How'd you get it? There's no nearby shops, right?"

Octavian nods. "It belonged to my son." At that, you stare wide eyed down at the stuffed animal, moving to give it back to him.

"I-I can't take this from you–"

He grabs your hands and holds them in place around the toy, shaking his head. "Nonsense, I want you to have it." His eyes burn with such intense emotion, so much so that you're unable to resist the pull to listen to his request. "Keep it, please. When this winter is over, I'll go get you some of your own stuffies and clothing. Do you have any clothing preferences? Any favorite animals?"

"When winter is over, I'll be leaving," you correct him.

He stiffens. "Right. Of course. Silly me." His emerald irises flash with something unreadable.

The rest of the day, he becomes even more overbearing.

He pulls you into his lap whenever he has the chance, insisting you rest your head against his chest while he reads to you (all of which are children's books). He constantly is giving you random little hugs, or complimenting you for whatever little mundane things you do.

You only allow it because you feel pity for him.

Each time you even try to pull away slightly, he looks so heartbroken and hurt, as if you stabbed him in the chest.

And it's not like you dislike it. You're so starved for attention and touch that it actually feels kind of good, having someone hug you and hold your hand and read to you.

It makes up for all the times you've been neglected.

Each day, he gets even more coddling and babying with you. You wonder why he's like this.

Then it hits you.

His kids are gone. He's never going to have another chance to hold his babies again.

This behavior... is this just him projecting his loss onto you? Trying to relive the feeling of caring for a child?

It breaks your heart for him, making you feel more guilty for wanting to leave.

...

As the snow begins to melt, Octavian gets more antsy. He constantly holds you in his arms now, rambling about anything and everything, bouncing and swaying side to side.

It reminds you of how mothers soothe their babies.

One day, he stops to give you a serious look, gripping your face in his hands and kissing your cheekbone.

"Please," Octavian whispers, desperation seeping into his tone, "please please please stay." Tears drip down his pale skin. "You have no idea what these past few weeks have meant to me." The grip on your jaw tightens and he shakes his head with a dry laugh. "God, I can't imagine living without you anymore! Don't make me go through that agony again! Don't abandon me! You're happy here!"

Your hands hesitantly grab his wrists, not pulling him away but letting him know your boundaries. "These past few weeks meant a lot to me too. But I don't want to live alone out here, forever."

He sniffles and glares down at you. "What do you mean? You wouldn't be alone. I'm here. You'd have me!"

"But I want more people than that!" you cry out. "And in the end, you're still basically a stranger..."

That last sentence was the wrong thing to say.

All color drains from his face, shock freezing him in place.

"A-A stranger...?" Octavian scoffs, betrayal seeping into his broken voice. "After all this time together?! After all the things I've done for you, all the things we've talked about?!" You tremble and try to move away. "Why can't you love me back?! Your parents don't want you, but I do!"

You shake your head. "You're freaking me out..." Never before had you been so scared of this man. Never did you think he'd act this way, even with how affectionate and caring he could be. This is on a whole new level. "I'm not a kid. Just because you lost yours doesn't mean you can make me yours instead!"

Octavian doesn't say anything.

The silence that hangs thick in the air between you is deafening. It makes you want to scream, break it somehow, just so you don't have to endure how tense this is.

Tears pool in his eyes. He hesitates, then yanks off both of his gloves and drops them to the ground.

You notice his fingernails are long and sharp. Like claws. Not human.

"What...?"

"I've never been normal either." Octavian lets out a choked sob. "My wife died trying to protect our children from vampire hunters." He bares his teeth, revealing pointed fangs. "She couldn't. They all died before I could save them."

Your breath catches in your throat at the sight.

A mix of fear and sympathy swirls in your gut, making you feel nauseous and disoriented all at once. You step backwards, putting distance between you and him.

His eyes grow dull. "I couldn't save them. But I could save you." Octavian reaches out with those strange hands and cups the sides of your neck with a featherlight touch, holding your gaze despite your attempts at averting it. "You may think of yourself as big, but to me? You're just a baby."

A pitiful whine leaves your lips as your eyes begin to water.

"They said the same things about me. Aberration. Monster. I know how you feel; how lonely and awful it is. That's why you need to stay with me," he insists. "We understand each other. We're the same."

"No! You're crazy!" you exclaim, backing up further until your back hits a wall behind you. His form looms over yours ominously, casting a shadow across the floor beneath him. "Stop fucking touching me!"

"Maybe I am crazy," Octavian humorlessly chuckles. "But anyone would become unhinged from losing everything dear to them." Without warning, he moves quicker than lightning, picking you up and holding you close to his chest. He curls himself over you, shielding you from nothing as if to protect you. His body completely engulfs yours, swallowing you in his presence. It's unnerving. "Everything will be okay now. Papa will keep you safe. No one will ever hurt you again," he promises softly. "You won't be like them."

"No, no, stop," you beg pathetically. "Let me go."

"Shhh... this will hurt a tiny bit, but only for a moment. It's necessary for us to always be together," he hushes you. "I was going to save this for when you've settled in more, but I can't have you run away."

Octavian kisses the top of your head before pulling the collar of your shirt down just enough for his mouth to hover above your bare shoulder.

"Nonono, please, don't!" you cry. "I don't wanna be a vampire!"

"I know, sweetheart," he laments. "I hate seeing you in pain, too."

Before you can say anything else, Octavian sinks his teeth deep into the flesh of your exposed shoulder blade.

You shriek in pain as you feel fangs digging into muscle tissue and sinew alike. Tears stream freely down your cheeks now, uncontrollable sobs wracking your frame as blood runs freely down your back and stains your clothes crimson red.

"Shhhh..." he hushes again, caressing your hair even while he drinks away your humanity. "I love you, I love you, I love you..."

By the time he's finished drinking, you feel woozy from blood loss and adrenaline. Octavian lifts you up, grip looser now that you're too tired to struggle, and dampens a cloth under the faucet, using it to clean up the excess blood.

Then he takes you back to the bedroom, tucking you underneath layers upon layers of warm bedding.

You try to speak, but your throat hurts so badly and you can barely move. Everything feels heavy, including your eyelids which threaten to shut due to exhaustion.

"Get some sleep. It's bedtime for little ones," he murmurs giddily. He adjusts the blankets covering you. "Oh, I knew I was missing something." You hear him shuffle around the room before returning. Suddenly the familiar feeling of the teddy bear is pressed against your torso, its fur tickling your nose.

"Papa..." you croak deliriously, thinking of your own father.

"Yes," he says. His face splits into a manic smile. "That's right." Octavian crawls under the covers next to you, dragging you towards his cold figure. He combs through your hair and cuddles you tightly, as though if he lets go, he might lose you. "Say it again. Say 'Papa.'"

You don't reply, far too exhausted to even care anymore. All you do is slump against him and close your eyes.

Octavian squeezes you tighter.

He buries his nose into the top of your head and breathes deeply.

"My baby..." His words sound distant as slumber overtakes your mind and drags you into darkness. "You're back home where you belong."

[sukunasweetheart]

beneath snowfall, we meet and part ways.

sukuna x reader, canon compliant, mild fluff and angst. a prequel to uraume's epilogue.

the forest is a haven of pure white.

your feet sink into the floor with each step, making the journey home a more difficult one. cheeks feeling frozen and achy, you wish to make a little stop to thaw your face out in some heat, but you are almost home, and it seems like a waste of time to build a fire so close to the end of your travel.

your head feels heavy. halting momentarily, you take your kasa hat off, and brush away the built-up snow from it, before putting it back on. the cold has now permeated into your fingertips, making them icy and stiff - you bring them up to your face to blow some warm air on them, to alleviate some of the numbness.

being so preoccupied with warming your hands, you are completely ignorant to the predator that is prowling behind you, ready to pounce and sink it's teeth into your neck.

when you finally turn around at the sound of snow crunching beneath a heavy weight, the wild bear is already charging at you in full speed.

the shock and fear has planted your feet deeply into the snow - you cannot run, or muster the strength to even try. but before it could tear through your soft and warm flesh and lap up your blood, it suddenly stops in its tracks, and collapses into the floor at it's feet. deep crimson trickles into the pure white snow, dying it red.

you're huffing from your anxiety and as the adrenaline leaves your body, you lose strength in your legs and fall backwards, onto your behind, palms sinking into the ground.

a third figure approaches the scene. he is almost the same size as the bear, and appears half naked, with only a black haori draped over his shoulders. how bold, in this weather...

he ignores your presence entirely, and is only inspecting his newly hunted fresh meat. you fall to your knees and say your gratitude, from having your life saved. there's little to no response, as the man is seemingly only interested in the bear.

you slowly stand up and your gaze falls to his bare feet in the snow.

"kind stranger... are your feet not cold in this snow?" you ask innocently. "i'm only a self-taught tailor, but i could make you some simple sandals and clothes just to-"

"unnecessary. piss off."

he uses a tone that's as cold as the air around you.

the nameless man hoists the bear into his shoulder, as if it weighs nothing, and carries it away like a sack of rice. you watch as he disappears into the distance, only leaving behind deep footprints into the snow.

roughly a week has passed since his first interaction with you.

this forest is where he frequents to hunt for wild animals, and so it was inevitable for him to also run into you again, since you use this same path to get to and from town twice a week to trade goods.

when he spots you again, you are foolishly trying to grasp his attention from a distance away, jumping and waving your hand around, almost like you want to attract, or scare, every possible wildlife animal to your location. sukuna ignores you, and walks away to try his luck in a different patch of the forest. but you catch up from behind.

he narrows his eyes. what an annoying pest. perhaps he shall have you as his dinner tonight?

his hand is itching to cleave you, but when you stop in front of his path, you are holding up a neatly folded kimono and a pair of large sandals on top of it.

"it may be imperfect... i worked with only what i saw of your size on that day. but please, take them and use them as you see fit."

the straw sandals look as though they're seamlessly woven. you're standing there, sweating, hoping he takes the items, wondering if he will be displeased if you grab his hand and make him take it. he hasn't spoken to you once since you called over to him. and yet again with silence, you watch as he holds your offerings with one of his four hands.

your anxiety turns into relief, and you're smiling tenderly. after a deep bow, you walk away to return home.

once you are gone, sukuna finds a branch to hang his haori onto briefly, to try on the items. they both fit perfectly, eerily so. you made this after only eyeing and estimating his size, hm? the tiniest smile is on his face as he continues his hunt, in the remainder of the afternoon.

he seems to run into you at least once every two weeks. overjoyed to see him wearing your gifts, you always bow as he walks past you. he pays you no mind.

but for the most part, he tends to clear out the wild animals closest to your area.

in a few weeks' time, he notices his sandals are getting worn out, which makes him click his tongue in annoyance.

the next time you see him, the man approaches you on his own accord, and holds up his sandals that are now full of holes. it should have lasted a bit longer, but the battle that he fought last week left them a little more damaged than he would've liked.

"oi. these are getting unusable. do something about it," he tells you, bluntly.

"... it would be my pleasure," you respond, taking the old sandals from him. you can use them as reference to replicate the exact same size.

the following week, you see him once again, and he receives a brand new pair. there is a look of satisfaction on his face.

such a routine continues, for the remainder of the year.

seasons pass. oddly, he hasn't seen you in some time. and the next time he does, it just so happens to be a snowy winter's day, once again.

you have a larger amount of luggage than usual, on your back. when you see him, your eyes light up and a small gasp escapes your lips as if you're glad to see him.

"sir!" you wave, walking close towards him. "it's always pleasant to see you. there's something i must give you."

you take your luggage off your back and start fishing for something.

sukuna stands with one pair of his arms crossed, silently looking down at you and watching.

"i've been recognised by a nobleman in town. he has expressed his desire for me to come and travel with him to the city for a permanent position as a tailor," you explain as you're going through your things.

"...is that so," sukuna replies monotonously.

what you bring up is a sack, seemingly filled with items. sukuna takes it and opens it up to find multiple pairs of shoes and clothes.

"there was no longer any need for any of the materials i had at my home as i was told not to bring them with me... so i used them all up to make clothes and shoes that could be of use to you," you continue, hoisting your luggage back onto your back.

sukuna sees that this is evident in your hands, as they look like they've been overworked and scratched up from strenuous straw braiding and sewing.

"i... probably won't be able to come back. the city is a long way away," you smile wistfully, "so, if you're ever in need of shelter or an icehouse for your hunts, please make use of mine. it should be down along this path, south-east, in the outskirts of this forest."

you give him a final bow.

"i'm truly thankful. my travels to and from town became much easier since the wild animals began avoiding this area. we never shared our names... but i will remember you for the rest of my life as my saviour."

you've always wondered if it was purposeful for him to always go hunting in this particular area.

sukuna scratches his ear at your awful lot of chattiness, being unused to listening to someone for this long. he hadn't really even meant to "save you" back then as you like to state, it was a simple coincidence. but he knows such details don't matter to someone like you.

"i wish you all the best," you say, beginning to walk off, as you wave at him.

sukuna... stands silently as he watches you leave. you're a few metres distance away now, but a sudden question he's wanted to ask blossoms in his mind, with a deep-seated annoyance sitting in the pit of his stomach.

"...why did you never question my abnormalities in appearance? is this something you're giving me out of sympathy?" sukuna asks in a loud voice, holding your bag up in his hand.

you stop in your tracks, and turn back around with a face of silent surprise at the sudden question from the usually wordless individual.

"...eh? uhm... well..." you stutter, seemingly troubled. sukuna raises an eyebrow.

"i've never thought about the situation in such a complicated manner... when i first saw you, i thought that the person who saved my life deserved clothes befitting him, and there was nothing for me to offer except my hard work, despite being an unremarkable tailor..."

you look like you're struggling, while lost in your thoughts.

"as for your appearance - i'm struggling to see what relevance that has with anything. clothes can be worn by anyone, and it's an essential part to any human's life."

sukuna sighs at your naivety.

"... nevermind, i suppose. get out of here," he mutters, turning his back to you.

you smile again, the confusion being wiped off your face entirely.

"farewell, sir! may you be blessed!"

sukuna feigns as though he's leaving with his back turned to you, but a few moments later he turns around to watch your figure disappear in the distance. this will be the last time he ever sees you in this lifetime.

it was the first time someone had viewed him as nothing more than a human, and treated him with any sense of everyday normalcy. and perhaps it is the first time he has received a genuine blessing, in this life of his that is always filled with conflict and malevolence.

but what use is a singular blessing against the multitude of curses that stir deep within his gut? sukuna has already established his path, and has no intention of changing his ways.

regardless of that...

he throws your bag of items over his shoulder to bring with him, and walks alone through the snow, following your directions towards your home. he shall make good use of that icehouse of yours....

- fin -

author's notes; my first proper canon compliant fic!! you may think of this as a late christmas fic hehe

in my humble opinion, sukuna was truly not capable of committing to loving someone in his jjk lifetime. i wouldn't say not capable, but he actively was against going down that path - the only reason he was able to choose to change his ways was due to his loss in the final fight - losing his life in a battle of ideals was the one and only way to get him to accept the value of love! (stubborn old man)

anyway i hope u liked this, i had fun writing it, i wanted to mention that yes, reader's icehouse is the same icehouse that his fatass accidentally crushed a while later before finding uraume! i tried to think of a creative way to involve reader in his life without altering jjk canon...

you are his soulmate, but you found him at the wrong time. perhaps if you'd met him earlier...

sukuna is probably somewhat relieved that you parted ways with him without knowing his true nature and he finds that it was better off this way; he is far too deep into this side already at this point, it would've been impossible for you to understand him to his core.

hopefully his encounter with you in his next life won't be so brief! <3

masterlist

[strawberrystepmom]

pairing: Thorkell x f!reader

word count: 4.6k

contents: NSFW. cw: significant age gap, mentions of violence and alcohol, time-period accurate misogyny/mentions of marriage, time-period inaccurate slang used. Size kink, hand job to completion (m!receiving), possessive language used by Thorkell toward reader including calling her "my wife", romantic smut with a lot of talking.

notes: this was a blast to write and i hope i did our big sturdy tree of a man the justice he deserves. this has been finished for a while but i actually added like 2.5k+ words to it so...yeah! <3

The winter of your village’s invasion has passed and given way to a glorious spring. 

Not long after the first snowfall, the first pillaging occurred. At first they only took sheep and cows, sacking homes for necessary supplies including the meager weaponry farmers must have to keep their families and animals safe. They returned a second time after the snow had accumulated, invading during a storm to cover their tracks. Fluffy white filled in footsteps that could alert the evening watchmen and they came after nightfall to collect once again, dragging off more animals and some able bodied men to work for them. 

The third time is when your father - the village leader - fell to his knees and pleaded with the band, including their leader. He offered them safety and warmth in the dead of winter in exchange for the safety of his villagers. They agreed to cease the violence and sacking as long as their demands and needs were meant. 

Despite their presence things seem strangely peaceful. You believe most people have chosen to ignore the ever present threat as a means to stay positive.

Or they’ve opted to focus on talking about you and the task you’ve been personally assigned thanks to your father - attending the scariest man most of your fellow villagers have ever seen. The madman who is missing an eye and swings an axe nearly as high as the sun. The leader of the group that has decided they needed to be here to choke a trade route that leads to an enemy encampment.

“Thorkell?”

Water splashes around him when he turns to look at you. The candlelight is blazing, recently lit, shining over his shoulders and the definition of them. “Yes?” 

Opting to gaze at the flame rather than what is so beautifully highlighted by it, you clear your throat to gather your courage.

“May I ask you a few questions?”

He sighs, which captures your attention. You look up to witness him bringing his hand up to cup his chin in a comically dramatic gesture for a man nearly too big for the washtub that was custom built to fit his excessively large frame. 

“I tend to believe once a woman has seen the parts of you that you’re to hide with clothes that she can ask you anything.” You roll your eyes. He chuckles, pulling his eyepatch down and back over its empty socket for your comfort. “Speak freely. I won’t punish you unless that’s what you’d like to ask for.”

It pains you to laugh at him though it’s futile to stop yourself. He’s quite charming for a complete oaf, full of affection and brightness that many of his counterparts who scowl at you while you make your way into the quarters where your mother and father used to sleep that have now been commandeered by the visiting viking lack. 

The only reason you’ve been coming for all of these months is to attempt to keep him happy to stave off attacks. You were given permission to do whatever is necessary by your father. Nothing uncouth has happened so far but the longer time has passed the more curious you find yourself becoming about the leader of the group specifically. 

You believe you may have developed a bit of a fondness for him, as dangerous of a prospect as it is. 

That very prospect has led you to believe that questioning him is the right way to change your feelings. Getting to know him will surely only grow the hatred time has doused. You simply need to remind yourself of how terrible he is and always has been.

Clearing your throat, you look up at him through your lashes to find him already gazing over at you, lazing about in his tub. 

“Why do you fight?”

He sits up instantly, grinning. “Because there is little else to live for besides the thrill of battle.” 

You cannot hide your dissatisfaction with the answer despite his glee, a sigh escaping. 

“Yes, yes you’ve told me this more times than I can count. The thrill of battle, the spilling of blood.” 

Fighting is wrong, a lesson you’ve been taught since you were old enough to remember. It’s wrong to harm others and certainly without reason. There’s no telling how many people Thorkell the Tall has harmed against this belief. 

Part of you is sure he keeps a tally somewhere in his shockingly vacant head. He cannot hide how your frustration delights him so he spurs you on.

“Why do you believe we fight, young lady?”

Shaking your head, you toss a well loved linen cloth into the water. He scoops it up and wrings it out, placing it over his shoulder so it doesn’t float away. 

“Thirst for blood trickles downward, my lord. They see how much you love it and it only makes them lust for a taste of it themselves.”

He tilts his head at you, touching his fist to his chest as though he’s touched by your words.

“You think me a lord?”

You snort humorlessly, tipping a little more water out of the bucket in your hands while daring to let your cheek rest against the lip of the tub, placing the bucket down next to your bent knees. 

“My father has instructed me to regard you as one despite your presentation and I cannot defy.”

The Goliath grins at you, blonde facial hair damp with steam from the water you continue to pour into the wooden basin. “Ah, I always knew he was a smart man.” 

Sighing and settling back into the water now that the temperature has risen, he opens his mouth to speak.

“It’s all I’ve ever known from the time I was a boy.” He closes his intact eye like he’s lost in a reverie. “The glory of victory and the bitter encouragement of defeat. I would be half a man without them even if you see it all as beneath you.”

The viking now makes a show of placing his hands on the back of his head, arms bent yet still so wide you almost collide with his elbow when it passes over your head just before you can duck. 

“You mustn’t kill me or else you’ll have no chambermaid.” 

Your tone remains flat though an amused smile rests across pretty lips dappled by fading candlelight. 

The man laughs, it seems to be all he does whenever he’s in your company, cupping his hand to dip it beneath the water and scoop some over his head. Your eyes follow his every move, maintaining sight of his forearm and wrist, his thick fingers and the strands of blonde hair that flatten over his forehead while they’re wet. He pushes them back and they immediately fall forward again, an action that wins a giggle from you.

With a never fading smile, he repeats the motion. Pushing his wet strands back, sliding his hand across their surface, they rebel and return to their home across his forehead. He sighs in mock exasperation, hands no longer cradling his head but instead spread out far beyond the sides of the tub.

“Now you see why I must wear the headband.”

Why is there a swell of warmth in your chest over the boyish smile of this man over twice your age? It curls around your heart like the steam in the room and the smoke from that still fading candle.

This feeling is very inappropriate. 

He’s a warlord who will likely conquer your village and overtake your father. He came here to inflict harm and to claim that which does not belong to him. Swallowing thickly, you sigh and further settle against the side of the tub. There is no response you can come up with to match his wit while hiding your true feelings so you rest a moment, dipping your fingers into the basin and wiggling them gently to warm them up although the room feels far from cold. 

Silence never sits well with Thorkell, nothing but the splashing of water filling his ears. He wishes it were the music and liveliness of an inn, something your small village is missing, but he’ll take listening to you speak in lieu of such things. 

“Do you know what your father told me about you the first day I met him?”

It was gracious he allowed you to enjoy the quiet for even a few minutes. You pretend to think about his question for a moment and then shake your head.

“Haven’t a clue.” A shrug, your shoulder lifting to your cheek. “Did he not offer marriage? My assumption has always been this is why he’s made me come and perform such uncouth tasks for you.”

Clearly you’ve piqued the man’s interest. He raises a blond brow. “No. Although if you believe he’d be willing t–” you shoot him a glance that makes him stop, his tongue stilling in his oversized mouth for just a moment before a sly smirk crosses his face.

“You know how much I like it when you get that fierce look in your eyes.”

You nod coolly despite the beating of your heart. He’s complimenting you? Admiring the tenacity you keep so well hidden beneath your smiles and obedience?

Thorkell liked you from the first time he encountered you, staring curiously at him from across the largest banquet table your people could find. You asked him no questions nor paid him any actual mind when he attempted to smile and raise a mug of ale in your direction, choosing to turn your attention to the children who misunderstood the excitement and celebrated the arrival of the people who may eventually raze the only home they’ve ever known once they no longer need it. 

That was many moons ago, more than the warrior has bothered to continue to count. You came to his chambers that very first night to bathe him, as you were clearly instructed to do, silently and seething with rage. You could likely have concealed it from someone who had seen less of it but he knew instinctively, this man. 

“Kill me if you must but I’d far prefer a kiss from one as fair as you,” he teased.

You dumped water over him with the same expression you wear now but you kept your eyes pinned to the wall instead of glancing at the nude man. Now this was greatly amusing to Thorkell. It also affirmed to him that he did not merely like you but found himself charmed by the lack of warm welcome and determined to bring back what he saw earlier that day sitting across from you.

In the present day, you aren’t bothered by the sight of his unfathomably large, muscled, scarred form nude. Or so you think until he does as he’s doing right this moment, stretching and spreading his long legs out and over the edge until water drips to the floor beneath them. His flaccid cock floats upon the water. You catch sight of it and look away quickly, backing away from the tub to grab the bucket and return to the stove for more hot water. 

Thorkell stops you, reaching to place a hand over yours. His fingers curl around your hand and the handle of the bucket both. “He told me that you wished to someday leave this village.”

You hum, aware he regales all visitors with that tale in hopes one of them will take you off of his hands and alleviate the strain upon his stores and finances. Your father loves you, of course, yet things are only growing more and more strained as the Danes advance. The future has never felt more uncertain, yours or that of your entire family. 

Even before the arrival of your unexpected visitors you longed to go. There’s another side of the landscape your eyes can make out yet you’ve never touched, further away than you can even consider walking by yourself. There are oceans and snow covered hills; grasslands and fertile soil and more than the simple rocky lowlands of your dreary homeland according to the stories the Northmen have told you. More than green, more than gray, more than any of us.

There’s a limitless world out there for those bold enough to take it.

“He told you the truth, Thorkell the Tall.”

The man chuckles, your sarcastic formality leaving him thrilled. His thumb rubs over the back of your hand and each of your knuckles.

You should rip yourself away from the touch of his hand, filthy bloodied paw that it is, yet you stay in place. The rapidly cooling water sloshes when he shifts, the room alongside it when Thorkell makes his way to the edge of the tub to lean over it and loom over you. The candlelight has grown down to a dim flicker, no longer bright enough to highlight his chest or the proof of prior battles that cross it. 

Not that you need the reminder, you can conjure them on your own. Even in the dim light you see him looking at you, a handsome face beginning to be etched by the delicate lines of age with scars that match those on the rest of him nearly touching yours.

“I could take you out there to see it all,” he offers in his best attempt at a whisper. His voice still fills every corner of the room. You shake your head, wiggling your hand beneath his to try and loosen the grip. 

“I cannot leave unless it’s with my husband.”

“Then I’ll talk to your father and arrange our marriage.”

That humourless laugh surfaces once again, your hand shaking beneath his. 

“Will you take me by force if I say no, just as your men have done to many others?”

Thorkell chuckles, astute enough to tell that even if you mean to wound him, it’s merely a scratch. But if you want to play rough, he’ll play right alongside you. 

He’s always carried an inkling you’d prefer it that way to begin with.

“It has never been I who has forced you to do things against your will,” he squeezes your hand and releases it with a mighty groan, shifting in the tub again so that his arms and head dangle over the edge.

It stings to recall that first night all those moons ago when you were forced to face this humiliation. To fill a basin for a man you saw as a predator felt like only staving off your own damnation, the ruination of farmlands and homes. A temporary means to an end.

That once venomously pervasive belief has softened over time and with the lack of aggression from the invaders toward your village.

You realize that while Thorkell is a bloodthirsty, senseless, loud brute he is intelligent. He can tell a story unlike any man you’ve ever met and his tales have always been fantastical. There’s a gentleness beneath his brash exterior, proven in the way he holds your hand not only right now but every other time he has. He hungers for more but don’t you do just the same, wishing to feel the grass of another pasture beneath your feet?

Sighing, you lean back against the side of the tub. The water must be cold now, the candle burned out completely leaving only moonlight to shine through the room though he makes no effort to take his leave. His cock floats ominously, his body relaxed and heavy beside you. 

Would this man truly marry you to give you the life you seek?

“And how would you treat your wife, Thorkell the Tall?” 

The water splashes while he lifts himself up to sitting, one arm remaining out of the tub so he can cup your shoulder in his large hand.

“Same as I treat all women,” he boasts as blunt as ever, gently shaking you which makes you laugh, attempting and failing to shrug him off.

You know he hasn’t taken a lover in your village since arriving, something many of the women have taken offense to despite their husbands if their incessant complaining in any indication.

“I’ve not heard any rumors of your treatment. Care to tell me more?”

Curiosity has always been your strength and weakness both. Fortunately, he’s eager to indulge you regardless. 

“You’ve not heard a single tale about how the women weep when I leave their villages?” He chuckles, lowering his head so that it is over yours once again. “ ‘O Lord, please protect the heathen who showed me Your face while using his tongue’ they cry in the streets.”

You may be unwed but you are no fool and the innuendo is not lost on you. Your face runs hot though you can’t quite place why, chest squeezing.

“So you’ve had many women then?”

The older man smirks, droplets from his hair sliding into your lap and falling into the empty water bucket beside you. 

“I’ve had my share,” he admits, hand sliding up your shoulder to wrap around the side of your neck and head. The delicacy of his touch sends a shiver down your spine, his thumb rubbing a small line across your throat. “Yet not one inspired me to claim her as my wife.”

Conquering is truly all he knows how to do, isn’t it? You scoff and Thorkell feels the vibration against his digit, removing and replacing it with his lips. He places a kiss against the hollow of your throat.

“Northman,” you warn, though the bite in your voice dies to find new life as a breathy sigh when he kisses your neck again. His facial hair scratches against your soft, unblemished skin causing goosebumps to sprout across it. 

“Stop me then, sweeting.”

The term of endearment ensures that your head and heart are no longer communicating, thoughts slipping away like petals on the wind. Your body reacts instinctively to his touch, head tipping backward to allow him access to more. He chuckles against your skin, tongue now laving over the irritated skin left behind from his kisses and the scratch of his scruff. 

“You didn’t answer my question,” you remind impatiently, air escaping your lungs in short puffs. “And I don’t wish to ask it again.”

His hand once again slides from your neck to your back, palm resting between your shoulder blades to pull you closer toward the tub and subsequently his insatiable mouth. It’s easy to forget how large he is yet right now it’s all you can think about - how engulfed you feel by his presence much less his hands. 

“You’ve not let me finish,” he pokes right back in your direction. That large hand slides down your back, his long arm hardly stretching to reach your ass to cup it and give it a playful squeeze. You protest but realize it’s futile, raising yourself up slightly so he can slide his hand fully beneath the backs of your thighs. Thorkell smiles down at you, his other arm now dropped over the side of the tub to cup your chin alongside your behind.

“I cannot promise that I would be able to give my wife a life free from suffering,” he starts. ”I am a warrior. My call will always be to battle no matter how badly she may desire that another truth exists.”

Nodding is all you can manage, averting your eyes from him. Is it strange to find a man so much older and worn than you this handsome? Is there something wrong with you? With the heat in your veins and the throb between your legs? 

Is it evil of you to crave to live this life with him? You can picture it - not here but far away, the vision of his homeland that his stories have created form the blurry outlines of the dream. Long after he’s taken you around the untamed and unowned world and shown you all it has to offer, every hilltop and cavern.

Questions and uncertainties rush by in your head, so quickly you can hardly make sense of them. 

The warrior stares at you curiously, lifting your head to meet his eyes. You’ve chosen to let him finish uninterrupted and he takes advantage of it.

“I would give my wife my heart no matter how far the wind carries me from her side.”

Despite the creeping fears dwelling within your worried mind, you smile at him. It’s soft, even a bit tense, exposing that you are afraid to believe a dream as outlandish as this could come true. The ghost sensation of his lips across your throat returns and you reach for it, running the side of your index finger over the sensitive skin. 

Thorkell realizes where your mind has gone and takes advantage, reaching for your hand and pulling it into the tub. You gasp as your sleeve soaks up a bit of the water, attempting to pull it back yet finding yourself unable to be free of his grasp. Keeping your eyes locked on him, you don’t dare look and see what he’s doing lest you react strongly and alert his men posted outside of the room. 

When you touch something entirely unfamiliar that does not feel like water, you dare sneak a glance and gasp sharply upon realizing he’s flattened your palm across the width of his cock. He chuckles at you, molding your fingers around what he considers his most impressive weapon. 

“And this would be all for my wife.” 

Wrapping his hand all the way around yours, he squeezes and hisses at the softness of your skin. Your palm does not cover even half of his girth, fingers far from touching each other. There is no indication that you wish not to touch him so he continues on, using your hand to slowly stroke his shaft.

“I’d never take another lover if I had my wife,” he serenades you with a humorous note floating through every word, leaning over the tub to look you up and down with a grin. “Although I believe my wife may be a bit too small to take all of my cock.”

That same flushed feeling from earlier returns to your face, the ache between your legs encouraging your thighs to defiantly squeeze together to give you a bit of relief. He glides your hand smoothly from the bulbous tip of his head that leaks fluid he rubs back down the rest of him, thumb resting on the outside of your wrist to keep it steady. Breaths leaving him in soft pants that mirror your own, your brows knitting together when you mewl softly with need.

A mischievous light shimmers in Thorkell’s narrowed eyes now that you’ve openly displayed how his teasing makes you feel. 

“I would like my wife to try, though,” he rasps, throat dry and blood rushing from his head to his painfully hard cock. “To try to take me.” 

You didn’t need the clarification, still you nod and swallow.  There’s no hiding from a direct conversation now. You’ve been confronted. 

There remains a lingering concern that he doesn’t mean it though lust fogs your thoughts too strongly to make you really take a step back and consider if this is real. Your hand moves up and down his cock, his hips gently bucking up and into your fist while cool water splashes around his hips and onto your forearm. 

“Would yo–would you do that for me?” He asks, grunting between each word. His complexion grows more pink with every passing second and you find it adorable that a man of his size flushes in such a manner when he’s being pleasured. 

You gaze into the bathtub, able to barely make out the tinge of red from his throat clear down to the deep flushed pink of the head of his cock. It’s such a strong contrast to dark scars and honed muscle that you whimper again, biting your lower lip and resting your cheek against his fingers.

“Would I do what for you, Thorkell?”

An impure part of you likes to hear him speak in this way, especially about you. Your body. Your pleasure. The visiting invaders have never been shy about sex and their conquests, speaking about them in front of polite company like priests and women alike but you’ve never quite seen this side of the man next to you.

Thorkell only speaks of fighting. The yearning of his blade for blood is all you believed he was capable of feeling until this evening.  

Now you see the man whose heavy, full balls slap against the bottom of your fist each time he thrusts upward to meet his stroke with your hand for who he really is. You see that his passionate blood runs hot for more than just battle just as he sees that you aren’t meant to be a shepherd’s wife. 

“Stretch yourself upon my cock?” The words come through gritted teeth, his body tensing and voice doing the same. “Allow me to fuck you until even the gods know my name you’ve been shouting it so often?”

Lack of experience aside, you get the distinct impression that he is soon to lose his mind to his pleasure. His chest heaves and the water around him no longer ripples but behaves like a wave capped stormy sea with each determined thrust of his hips, his remaining eye shutting tightly. 

“Yes,” you mutter.

Without further hesitation you reach into the tub and wrap your free hand around his and your other hands to increase the pressure of the grip on his shaft. He moans loud enough you know that the men on the other side of the door have to know what’s happening but you don’t care. 

“Yes, if I am your wife I will let you take me however you like.” 

The words leave you in an anxious jumble, your lower lip wet with saliva and eyes heavily lidded as though it hurts to open them fully in your aroused state. 

“I will not merely allow you to fuck me Thorkell, I will beg you to.” 

You pant, brows knit together expressing how painful the ache of your curious cunt has become. It would be a lie to say you are completely unfamiliar with your body, you’re aware of how to soothe this pain but both of your hands remain locked around him. 

“There’s nothing I desire more than to feel you inside of me.”

One look at your face tells him that you mean it. It’s almost hilarious how wide your pupils are blown and how spit slicked your lower lip is from gnawing it like a starved beast. Thorkell doesn’t laugh though, he merely focuses on chasing the feeling in the lower half of his body. 

“Then inside you I will be,” he assures, tipping his head back while his jaw slackens and falls open. His release spurts all over your hand with another mighty groan announcing its arrival, white coating your knuckles and the cuff of your shirtsleeve. 

You let go of him, backing your top hand away slowly though the one around his shaft remains there locked in his grasp. Awkwardness keeps you anchored in place, patiently waiting for him to say something; anything. 

“I’ll speak with your father in the morning.”

He rises from the water and you nod, eyes wide. He meant it? You may really someday learn what’s just beyond what your eyes can see? 

Thorkell bends at the waist and holds onto the edge of the tub, staring down at you with that same grin he never quite conceals no matter what. He’s so good natured for someone so violent. 

“Go lie down on the bed, my wife, and I will give you a taste of what’s to come.”

And who are you to say no? You scramble to your feet, holding your soiled hand out in front of you until you decide to simply wipe it on your skirt. No sense in feeling shame now, not while a very hungry predator stalks across the wooden floor, leaving a trail of droplets behind him.

[dreamdragonkadia]

Hi! I just discovered you recently. Your writing is amazing!! Since you mentioned you’re in the mood to write something holiday themed, can I please request a playful snowball fight with Xaden? I’d love to know how Xaden would react to the reader throwing a snowball at him 😊

Oh! Thank you so much!! You are way too sweet! <33 I’m so glad you’ve decided to join me on this absolute simp journey. x.riorson x reader

The first snow of the season had finally blanketed Basgiath, turning the fortress grounds into a pristine, white wonderland. It wasn’t long before the gentle snowfall transformed into a full-on storm, layering every building and pathway in inches of snow. And, naturally, the dragons were having none of it.

Drama queens.

A soft, offended rumble echoed in the back of your mind, the kind that clearly said, I heard that. But your dragon didn’t refute the thought, and really, all of this was her fault in the first place.

With most classes canceled for the day, and a suspicious lack of supervision, the second and third years were left to their own devices. A dangerous concept, honestly. For you, it meant wandering the snow-covered grounds with Xaden, who—by some miracle—had agreed to the idea without too much grumbling. Though now, judging by his crossed arms and narrowed gaze, he was probably regretting it.

You couldn’t help it. The quiet crunch of snow beneath your boots, the icy air that bit at your cheeks, and the sheer novelty of it all had made the childish idea too tempting.

"Do it," your dragon urged, as if she was the angel on your shoulder and not the devil she so clearly was.

Your hands acted on instinct. A perfect handful of snow was quickly scooped up, packed into a rough ball, and hurled at the unsuspecting target in front of you. Xaden didn’t even see it coming.

The snow hit him squarely between his shoulder blades, exploding into a fine spray of icy powder. He froze—like some wild animal sensing danger—and then turned, slowly, with the kind of deliberate menace only Xaden Riorson could pull off.

The sight of him made you pause. His expression was nothing short of scandalized, like you’d just committed an unforgivable crime. “Did you just—”

“Hit you with a snowball?” you finished for him, struggling not to laugh. “Yeah. I did.”

For a beat, all he did was stare. You expected witty words, maybe a pointed glare or a what the hell is wrong with you muttered under his breath. But no.

“Big mistake,” he said, in that low, gravelly voice of his.

Your stomach dropped. “Wait—Xaden—”

Too late. He was already moving, the faintest smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.

You barely had time to scramble backwards before his hand shot down, scooping up a massive pile of snow. The way he packed it—quick, efficient, like this was a life-or-death mission—told you one thing: you were in trouble.

"I’m blaming you for this," you shot at your dragon, who only huffed in amusement.

And then Xaden launched his retaliation.

The snowball hit you square in the chest, knocking the breath from your lungs in a burst of laughter and surprise. “Xaden!”

“You started it,” he called, already preparing another one.

What followed was a full-on snowball war. You were half-sprinting, half-tripping through the deep snow, yelping when he got you and shrieking with triumph every time you managed to hit him back. By the end of it, you were both soaked, shivering, and grinning like idiots.

Xaden with his dark hair dusted with snow and his cheeks flushed from the cold, looked over at you with an expression that was far too smug for your liking. “Satisfied?”

“Not until you admit I won,” you shot back, brushing snow off your flight jacket.

He snorted. “In your dreams.”

You rolled your eyes, a teasing retort already on your tongue, but when you glanced up, the words died in your throat. He was looking at you—really looking at you—his dark eyes soft in a way that made your heart stumble. The smirk faded, replaced by something quieter, something dangerous.

“Xaden?” you murmured, barely above a whisper.

“Hmm?” He stepped closer, so close you could see the faint flakes of snow caught in his lashes.

The playful energy between you shifted, turning into something else entirely—warmth in the middle of the cold. His gaze dropped briefly to your lips, and that was all it took.

His hand cupped your cheek, cold fingertips a contrast to the heat of his touch, and he kissed you. The world faded away—Basgiath, the snow, the chiming of the bells—leaving only him. His lips were warm and sure, the kiss slow and lingering, like he had all the time in the world.

When he pulled back, you were breathless, cheeks flushed for reasons that had nothing to do with the cold. He studied you for a moment, that ever-present smirk returning. “Still think you won?”

“Absolutely,” you replied, grinning as you pulled him back in for another kiss.

"You’re welcome," your dragon purred smugly, and for once, you didn’t argue.

[cringe--is--dead]

✩⁺₊✩☽⋆𝕾𝖑𝖊𝖎𝖌𝖍 𝕽𝖎𝖉𝖊⋆☾✩⁺₊✩

✩⁺₊✩☽⋆𝕾𝕯𝖁!𝕾𝖍𝖆𝖓𝖊 𝖝 𝕽𝖊𝖆𝖉𝖊𝖗⋆☾✩⁺₊✩

The soft sound of crunching show beneath your boots was the only sound that filled the quiet, calm afternoon air. You finished up the final of the few chores you had, your crops didn’t need as much tending to now that winter had settled over the valley, and your animals tended to want to stay in their barns, warm and cozy. The shorter days had everyone, even yourself, feeling more lethargic, more calm. The trees were rather bare in your orchard, and before the snowfall you had felt saddened by the sight, but the farm now looked almost like a winter wonderland; some type of painting you got to live in. Surveying the area, you let out a sigh to yourself, ready to turn in for the rest of the day. Maybe you’d make some hot chocolate, or eggnog, read a few of the books Leah loaned you. As you made your way up your porch you heard a call of your name.

“Hi!” You turned, seeing Jas running across your farm, wrapped in a thick, knitted scarf, her mittens danging from the sleeves of her jacket, chubby cheeks red from the cold. She was grinning, eyes sparkling as she crew closer to you.

“Jas?” You smiled at her, waiting for her to grow closer, her little arms wrapping around your waist, “What are you doing over here?”

She squeezed you, grinning up against you, “Do you wanna go on a sleigh ride with me and Shane?”

The question almost caught you off guard. A sleigh ride? You glanced around at the snow, it was thick enough to move a sleigh around you suppose. It also sounded rather fun. You and Shane had been dancing around each other for the first year you had moved here, after you began breaking through his rough exterior, but even with all your flirting and teasing, you hadn’t pegged him the type of guy to indulge in winter festivities. You raised an eyebrow down at her. 

“A sleigh ride huh?”

She nodded enthusiastically, “Yeah! He promised me he’d take me for a sleigh ride today, and he said you could come!” She paused, as if rethinking your words, “Well I asked if you could come, but then his face got all red and then milk came out of his nose! Aunt Marnie told him to calm down and sent me to come get you.” 

You tried to stifle the laugh at the image of Shane choking on a cup of milk, coughing so hard it came out of his nose. Looking down at Jas, arms still wrapped around you, her enthusiasm was palpable. Her little face was hard to resist, once you had become her friend she had grown pretty attached to you. Your blossoming… whatever it was with Shane seemed to help that too.

"Alright," you agreed, chuckling softly, brushing off some stray snowflakes from her eyelashes, "I’ll come. But only because you asked so nicely." 

"Yay!" Jas beamed, bouncing on her toes, pulling back from where she had been holding you, "I’ll go tell Shane you’re coming!" 

With that she ran off, waving as she went. You smiled, feeling more excited and awake than you had before. You and Shane had hung out before, you and Jas had hung out, hell, you and Marnie had hung out, but you’d never gone out with Shane and Jas together. For some reason that idea made you nervous. Through everything Shane had gone through, you knew how much he loved Jas, how much he wanted only good things for her, even if he wasn’t sure how to do it. Months ago, before Shane had been working on getting sober, you two had been drinking at the beach, trying to keep quiet as to not annoy Elliot. He had confessed that, if you two started dating officially, you’d be the first real relationship he’d had in years.

“I didn’t trust my judgement for the longest time,” He took a swig from his beer, staring out at the calm waters, “I didn’t wanna date some asshole and have them be awful to Jas. She’s been through enough.”

He turned to you, and without his constant nagging anxiety, he smiled at you, soft and sirene, “But she adores you. I do too, if you’re willing to wait.”

That night sold the deal for you, and though he may only remember bits and pieces of your conversation, he knew that whatever happened changed the tides of your relationship. After changing into less work oriented winter clothes, you made your way to meet the duo. The family of raccoons that had made a home between your farms was no where to be seen, more than likely curled up and warm. 

Shane was already outside, petting and brushing the horse he seemed to have chosen for the night. Rocky, you were reminded, one of the horses Shane had helped care for since he was a little fawn. Shane was clad in his winter gear, though he seemed to be more put together than he had been last winter. It was a good look on him. Hearing the crunching of your boots, he turned, the relaxed look on his face lifting, corners of his mouth twitching upwards, his eyes crinckling.

“I didn’t think you’d be coming,” He called out in way of greeting, amusement clear in his voice, though he seemed relieved as well.

You grinned, getting close enough to let Rocky sniff at you curiously, “Well, Jas made a rather compelling case. Something about milk?”

Though his cheeks were already red from the cold, you could tell they deepened in shade at your words. Flustered, his gaze turned back to Rocky, “Oh shut it.”

You grinned, more teasing words on the tip of your tongue, but you were stopped as Jas leaned out from the sleigh, a slight pout on her face, “Come on you two! Aunt Marnie says she’ll make hot chocolate when we get back!” 

Shane rolled his eyes playfully as you chuckled, both moving to climb in the sleigh. Shane grabbed a blanket before you could hop in, draping it over your shoulders, “To stay warm,” He said, trying to shrug it off as he helped you climb in. 

Jas scooted over, excitement in her movements as she made room for the two of you. Her mittens were on, scarf wrapped tighter around her, and you assume Marnie had adjusted her outfit for her. Shane followed in after, the reins in his hands. As he climbed in, he sat close to you, your sides pressed against each other, and the feeling had warmth spreading through your body.

“You two ready?” He asked quietly, the look on his face soft as you glanced over.

“Yes!” Jas cried out, clearly impatient that you all had yet to move.

He chuckled, turning his eyes forward as he got Rocky to start moving. It was quiet as you three moved about slowly, the lake frozen over, the trees still, animals asleep and quiet. The valley looked magical with all the snow, and you almost wanted to hold you breath, afraid any noise was be too much. Jas, however, let out a happy laugh, trying to goad Shane into making Rocky move a bit faster. He complied without complaint, and she cried out in victory, face glowing. 

“This is so much fun!” You were moving for a few more minutes before she called out for you all to stop, scrambling to climb out of the sleigh.

“Stay close!” Shane calle, helping her onto her feet, the two of you following, leaning against the cart as she ran around, throwing handfuls of snow into the air.

“I don’t think I’ve been on a sleigh ride since I was a kid,” You pulled the blanket around you tighter, smiling as Jas fell back to start making snow angels.

“This is the first time I’ve taken her on a sleigh ride,” Shane admitted, adjusting his beanie, “Her parents and I… we used to do this when we were younger. Add in some fire ball hot chocolate and bad horror stories, and it was a regular Saturday night for us.”

He so rarely brought up the topic of her parents, and you stayed quiet, not wanting to interrupt whatever he was thinking of as he watched Jas continue to play, throwing half-made snowballs at the bushes.

“I was too much of a mess every winter after she started living with me to bring her here,” He leaned against you, moving so his head was against your shoulder, and you let him, leaning your head ontop of his, “I’m really happy I can do this for her now. And I’m really happy you came with us.”

You felt warm at his words, so many emotions flowing through you. It was taking a lot of strength not to just kiss him, the two of you refraining from PDA in front of Jas until you not only made things official, but talked to her about your relationship as well.

Though you suspected she had some idea, kids were smarter than they were given credit for.

“I’m glad I could come as well,” You spoke softly, and Shane hummed, “Even if it made you choke on your milk.”

“Okay,” He pulled back, standing up straight, but there was laughter in his voice, “You can pretend she never told you that.”

“Hmm, I don’t know, seemed pretty important to me,” Before you could continue teasing him, a snowball came flying your way, soft and small, but pelting you in the shoulder.

“Wha-” You ducked, another snowball sailing and hitting the sleigh, laughter bubbling from you, “Jas!” 

She giggled uncontrollably from the snow, and Shane snorted. 

“It’s a full on snowball war with her,” He said, a sly grin growing on his face, his tone still light, “She pelts poor Vincent every winter. You’ll have to try hard if you wanna win.” 

You turned to him, meeting his gaze for a split secent, before turning back to where Jas was peeking from around a bush, smile still on her face, a snowball in her hand. You reached down to the snow, forming a loose ball in your hand.

“Alright,” You stood up, aiming for the bush in front of Jas, but before you could throw it, another snowball hit you from the back, straight from Shane.

Mouth parted, you turned to him with faux shock, “Really, Shane? You too?”

Shane was grinning now, a full smile, teeth on display as he laughed, “Told you, if you wanna win you gotta try harder.”

Turns out he was true when calling it a snowball war, the three of you pelting each other with snowballs. The quietness was replaced with laughter, the three of you shrieking in delight whenever you’d get hit. At one point Shane picked Jas up, flipping her upside down and holding her in the air, her laughter dissolving into breathless cackles as you started throwing snowballs at Shane, declaring you’d save her. Eventually, the energy died down as you all began to feel and realize how cold you’d gotten, Jas’ teeth chattering as she denied being cold. 

You piled her back into the sleigh, wrapping the blanket around her and holding her close. You and Shane were stilled pressed against each other, him steering Rocky back to Marnie’s place, a slow and steady pace. Jas, though she tried to fight it, ended up falling asleep in your lap, the excitement and long day catching up to her.

“That was… fun,” Shane spoke, so quiet you almost didn’t hear him.

You smiled, sighing with content, “Yeah. It was.”

“I am glad you came with us.”

“Me too,” You two were keeping your voices quiet, “I know I can’t replace your memories with her parents, and I would never want to, but maybe we can start some new winter traditions with Jas, if you’d want.”

He snorted, “Maybe without being pelted by snowballs every year,” He was smiling as he spoke, his eyes so soft you could feel your heartbeat quicken, warmth spreading from your chest, “But I’d like that.”

A/N: concernedape PLEASE let Jas move in with you when you marry Shane, she's his goddaughter!!!

[miguelhugger2099]

Snowfall

Summary: You, the Goddess of Life, visit the God of Death in the forest during a snowstorm. Next Miguel x Fem!Reader, Proofread but I was half-asleep, Fluff, A smidge of angst, Word Count: 1,458 This song is what caused this fic to form in my brain.

A blizzard had made its way to the village, its cold and harsh winds slamming against wooden cabins and tiny snowflakes that only piled up into mountains by the hour.

However, by his lonesome, stood a man in the forest. A forest that had once been flourishing with soft green grass, and a gentle blue lake in the middle with the sun's warm rays peeking through the leaves of the giant pine trees.

His black coat and black shawl around his head was a stark contrast to the pure white snow on the ground and in the sky. But it matched perfectly with the splatter of blood that tainted said purity.

He bent down, kneeling before the creature that had spilled blood: a baby deer wounded by its ribs. It was shot for food by hunters right before the blizzard hit, leaving them to abandon the animal.

The fawn wheezed softly, its beady black eyes staring up at the man. It weakly twitched, its hind legs failing to push itself up. The baby had squirmed the closer the man approached it with a gentle hand. Despite the cold weather, the man never shivered when a particular gust of wind blew through the branches, making his shawl slip off his head.

He gently caressed its head, rubbing his thumb comfortingly under its eye. He felt an ache for the poor baby, lost and alone in the bitter cold.

The baby had bleated softly, perhaps a cry to its mother before falling limp–marking the end of its life. His frown deepened, flinching his hand back to his chest and standing up again. The soul of the animal ripped itself from the confinements of mortality, stretching its limbs. He watched it flail around in small hops, before staring at him for a moment, its nose twitching and scurrying away to the afterlife.

He then turned his head down to glare at the dead body until a kind voice interrupted him.

“I apologize for the intrusion, Miguel.” He turned around with his eyes widening slightly. He saw you stand a few feet away from him, your usual soft smile on your face. Quietly, he whispered your name.

You wore a white cloak over a warm thick white cotton dress–he assumed with many layers underneath– and a crown made of branches atop of your head. You seamlessly fit into the background of the snow with your outfit. Your hair was the same, perfect as ever, free and let down from any hairstyle. The cold had gotten to you, snowflakes on your eyelashes and you held yourself close to keep a bit of warmth.

You approached him, the crunch of the snow underneath following you. When you met with him face to face, you gingerly reached over to place his shawl back over his head to protect him from the cold even though you both knew he didn't really need it.

“You shouldn't be here.” Miguel worried, fussing over you as he held you by your forearms. “You're supposed to be resting.”

Every year for a few weeks, you would take the time to sleep after a couple of months caring for Mother Earth. Miguel, the God of Death, offered to help you by taking care of Mother Earth while you slept. So instead of flourishing crops, warm sun and bright scenery, Miguel's cold hands left trees dying, more opportunities for illness, and an even bigger chance of death–the season many humans know as winter.

“I wanted to see you.” You smiled at him which made Miguel scoff at your ridiculousness. He took off his shawl and placed it around you to keep you warmer. Miguel stopped you before you could protest.

“You and I both know that I wear these just so the mortals don't ask questions,” He grumbled, successfully wrapping the fabric in a snug manner. Since you were the Goddess of Life, you were more used to the warmth of the sun shining down on you and the blood pumping through your veins and to your beating heart. For Miguel, all he knows is the coldest feeling there is, so a storm like this could never harm him. You stared up at him with adoration before yawning. Miguel pointed it out. “I knew it. Go back to bed.”

Despite his warning you slip past him to stare at the deer that had fallen into Miguel's care. Your eyes glazed over its body, resting a moment longer on the gunshot wound that was still seeping red into the plush snow, the blizzard slowly covering its body in a white blanket.

He stands behind you as you bend down on your knees to kneel beside the deer, nervously awaiting your reaction. “You tried saving its life, didn't you?” You asked, never turning away from the animal. You began petting it gently as if it were still alive.

Miguel frowned, looking off to the side. “I was putting it out of its misery.” You huffed a small laugh through your nose and got up again on your feet. You turned to him again and reached up to cup his cheek. He melted into your hand, the only source of warmth he could ever get the chance to feel. His eyes softened down at you.

“Thank you.” You whispered. Miguel's face hardened again but he did not stray from your palm.

“For what? For killing your creations?”

You sighed. No matter how many times you've had this conversation with him, he always seemed to put himself down. “You don't kill, Miguel.” You assure him.

“My life's work is to kill. It's my duty.” He retaliated, his eyes glancing at the fawn before looking back down at you.

“You think lowly of yourself.” You slip your hand down to his chest. “Your work is beautiful.”

“There's no beauty in death, my lady.” Miguel placed his hand over yours on his chest. You don't feel a heartbeat drumming inside. “It's grotesque and heartless.”

You scrunch your nose, not believing a word he's said. “And who has told you this? The mortals?” You ask. His jaw clenches.

“They adore you and not me.” He says.

“Are you saying you're jealous, my lord?”

“I'm saying what is true,” He says firmly, not wanting to amuse your upcoming antics. “You are beauty. You are perfection. You are divine,” He cups your cheek and you shiver from the coolness of his fingers.

“Look around you. Mortals are struggling to stay warm, to find food and shelter. I've caused this. They…they curse my name,” He comes closer to you, tilting your head up to meet his ruby eyes. “I fear you shine too brightly, my lady.” Your breath hitches as you look up at him. You shake, not knowing if it's from the puff of wind passing by or your heart stuttering in your chest when he inches closer.

“What are you saying, Miguel?” You whisper.

His eyes dart to your lips, stopping the urge to kiss you. “I want to shine with you. But I'm not worthy. Not with the acts I've done. Not with the blood I've spilled alongside mortals and destroying your works of art.”

“Miguel,” Your heart speeds up, quick to calm the self destructive thoughts he's producing.

“My life has no meaning without you. What good is appreciating life if there is no death? You make living precious. You make it sacred. And when the time comes, you make it merciful,” Your other hand comes up to his hair, running your cold fingertips through his strands. “That is your true nature. Whatever humans do to abuse your power is not a part of you.”

Miguel leans his forehead against you, closing his eyes. You mirror his actions, pressing against him and simply feeling him. His hands move around you, bringing you closer by the waist. The wind passes by with a high pitched whistle. “So…warm.” He breathes out softly.

He pulls away from you, bending at the waist to pick up your hand and kiss your knuckles. You feel your cheeks heat up while he looks up at you through his eyelashes. “You must be tired, mi reina. I'll take you home.”

Miguel reaches down to pick you up bridal style. You wrapped your arms around his neck and nuzzled closer to him despite his freezing exterior. You feel him hold you tightly to his chest protectively as he walks out of the forest to bring you home.

The fawn's dead body lies underneath a pile of snow now, hidden from the world. Its remains will seep into the ground, nurturing the future plants that will grow in its place once the winter is gone and spring returns– the cycle of life and death– an eternal harmony.

A/N: man i fucking love anything to do with gods and goddesses. i might make this a mini series of just snippets of their relationship but ahhhh i dunno if anyone will even like this tbh. i did have fun writing it though

[suguwu]

part of in absentia. modern au with ghosts.

—

there's music playing.

you can hear it even on the front porch, floating out of the open windows, sifting through the screen door. it's a slow, soft croon that fades on the summer breeze.

it's grown to be your second favorite welcome home.

the screen door creaks shut behind you. you should tell the landlord; no matter how much wd40 you use, nothing changes. but phainon is adamant that he can fix it, that there's no need to bother anyone else. you think he'd carry the world on his shoulders if he could.

"hey," you call, toeing off your shoes and dropping your keys in the lopsided bowl. they clink against phainon's, a sweet, sharp bell.

he doesn't bound around the corner like an overgrown puppy. beneath the music, there's a hush, a held breath. you frown.

"phainon?" you call, dropping your bag onto the chair that you both swear you'll stop using as a catch-all.

no one answers.

you slink deeper into the house. it seems bigger, somehow, as if something has poured out of it, a bottle decanted. despite the golden spill of summer sun outside, the house is dim.

"phainon?"

the house feels so empty that you recoil when you round the corner, phainon's broad frame a surprise when it shouldn't be. he's in the kitchen, his back towards you, his white hair a stark slash of starlight. the music curls through the air, sweet and soothing.

your shoulders are just starting to loosen when a serpentine hiss splits the air.

the pot on the stove is boiling over.

it gurgles and splashes as you scramble towards it, flicking off the burner with a bitten off curse. it starts to settle quickly, but you can tell that the sauce has burned at the bottom.

"there goes dinner," you say wryly, starting to turn. "not like you to zone ou—"

phainon hasn't moved.

the hairs on the back of your neck start to rise.

he's staring out the window, his eyes horizon-swallowed. he's completely still, as if carved from stone, as if he's clay not yet breathed to life.

"phainon?"

the edges of him flicker.

"phainon!" you say, and even to your ears, it's a little bit desperate. a little bit wounded.

he blinks, honey-slow, his white lashes sweeping across his cheeks like snowfall. then he blinks again. the third time he blinks, there's animation in his face again, a wilted flower revived.

"woah," he mutters to himself. you can't help the little noise of relief; he glances at you.

for a second, you think his eyes are gold.

then he's smiling, bright and messy, his eyes crinkling at the edges. "you're home!" he says. "didn't even hear you come in. getting sneaky, huh?"

"yeah," you say, a little bit helpless. "sneaky."

he tilts his head. "you okay?"

"yeah, sorry. just tired."

"guess it's a good thing i—oh, shit, the sauce!" he exclaims, lunging towards the stove. his whole body droops when he sees the state of it. "how did it burn so quick?!"

you try—and fail—to smile. "maybe you can save it."

he looks scandalized. "i'm not going to feed you burned sauce!"

"at this rate, you're not going to feed me anything."

he laughs. "you're so mean to me sometimes."

"only when you deserve it."

he leans in close, eyes twinkling. "what else do i deserve?"

you plant your hand in his face and push him back, heat rising into your cheeks. "personal space, phainon," you hiss, as if he doesn't spend half his time draped over or against you.

he laughs against your palm. "sorry," he says, clearly unrepentant. "let's get takeout instead."

you scowl at him. "fine."

"i'll order," he says. "go wash up."

you hum an agreement. you watch him for a moment more. he seems so solid, so real.

sometimes it's hard to remember that he's not.

you head to your room, shrugging off your sweater and tossing it onto your bed. you scrub a hand over your face.

"fuck," you mutter, pulling your phone from your pocket and unlocking it.

you pull up your messages. you sink your teeth into your lower lip, rolling the tender flesh until it parts, a flower splitting open in the night.

you tap on castorice's name. there's several unread messages; you've been ignoring her for days.

you can't any longer.

it's time to let phainon go.

[merbear25]

Snake bites (Monster!Law)

Despite being married to each other, there were still ways Law surprised you, not all of which were pleasant. The village had fallen on hard times, forcing him to take up being a huntsman in hopes of keeping the two of you well fed. Even with word of snake parasites lurking in the Forbidden Forest, Law took a risk only to get burned. How you wished you were welcoming your husband home that day.

a/n: This is a trade for @karusenka! It’s so exciting to do a trade like this, honestly. Thank you so much for suggesting it! I hope it lived up to your expectations!

CW: NSFW! MDNI! Monster AU, Marriage AU, fem!reader, angst, noncon, vaginal penetration, creampie, horror themes. This is based on the snake parasite from bloodborne but of course, I took some creative liberties to change some things.

The slight bite of cold nipped at your nose, reminding you that winter was creeping in. Fluttering your eyes open, they fell on Law’s sleeping form; his features were peaceful, as if the stresses of everyday life never phased him. A weak smile spread on your face as you went to brush his disheveled hair off his forehead, accidentally stirring him awake.

With a deep sigh, he lazily asked for the time. Slowly turning over to your bedside, you wanted to savor this time with him, for such sweet and gentle moments were becoming less and less common.

You watched him while he left your side. Keeping yourself from calling out to him to return to bed just so you could spend a bit more time holding him never got easier; you understood that he’d give you the same begrudging excuse of ‘There’s only so much light in the day.’ Although true, the bleak reality never stopped you from wanting to be selfish every now and then.

Despite sacrificing parts of his freedom to cherish you like you deserved, knowing that you’d have enough food during winter was his sense of purpose: the purpose that kept him from staying at your side and that led him into forests in search of prey.

Looking over his shoulder, he gave you a faint smile before coming back to place a soft kiss on the top of your head. “I’ll be back by supper.” As his lips left the warmth of your body, he dreaded having to trek through the early onset of winter. The subtle sadness held in your eyes was making this morning particularly taxing for him. However, the thought of you going hungry snapped him back to his senses. While venturing out of the house with a brief goodbye, you were alone with your thoughts.

Even though there were supposed to be a couple of months before the first snowfall, frost had built up on the blades of grass surrounding the forest, and the leaves drooped from its added weight. Seeing a few of the other men helped relieve some of the weight they were all carrying on their shoulders: hunting in small groups would no doubt fare well for them if they crossed paths with predatory animals, or, as others whispered about behind closed doors, snake parasites.

Such rumors only poisoned the mind, though. There was no proof even alluding to some of those in neighboring villages having been picked off by these parasites. That being said, gossip or not, fear had already plagued the village which caused many men’s nerves to buckle under this added pressure. Adding this word of mouth to the threat of an early winter only made matters worse.

With a few rabbits collected and the sun already well past the midway point in the cloudy sky, many were beginning to lose faith that there’d be something of greater value hiding amongst those trees. But then, a rustling could be heard just some meters away. When a deer jolted out from behind a bush the men weren’t even facing its direction, all except Law. However, he still wasn’t quick enough; his bullets grazed the bark whenever the deer ducked and swayed out of the line of fire.

Whether it was the want of having a successful hunt or the panic of not being able to provide for the two of you, it was hard to say what drove Law to chase after the animal, but whichever it was carried his feet faster than he ever thought possible.

Single mindedness acted as a silencer, causing the group’s calls to fall on deaf ears. Deeper and deeper he journeyed into the depths of the hushed horrors that’d been passed around the surrounding villages. He knew the deer was outrunning him, so he acted fast when it ran through an opening between the trees. Taking the only chance he’d be given, he fired a bullet straight through its jugular.

Shrieks of agony sounded, calling out into the void of nature with gurgled chokes whose cries were only silenced by Law’s knife. Huffing while staring down at his much deserved prize, he looked around to think he’d catch a glimpse of the others behind him—only being faced with the tall trees. Mustering up enough strength, he slung his catch over his shoulders, clinging to the hooves on both sides of him.

Carefully backtracking, he nearly lost his footing when his attention jerked towards a snapping twig. With so much talk of monsters feasting on the disappearing villagers, one could only keep their imagination from wandering for so long. His eyes darted every which way it sounded from, trying to keep his breath calm and heart steady.

Easing up on his grip, that day’s prize slumped down to the forest floor. Pained soaked groans coupled with a large figure staggered towards Law. Gasping for air while the body swayed back and forth put Law further on edge. Not wanting to risk turning the situation into a chase, he cautiously backed away from the stranger. Slowly bringing his hand to his gun, the clarity of the risks were crystal: if he missed, there would be a slim chance of him escaping; but if he managed to hit it, it’d be severely wounded, giving him a decent enough shot at fleeing. With a sudden lurch, Law reacted by pulling the trigger—only blowing off a chunk of its shoulder.

Hysteric yelps entwined with sharp hissing seeped out of the foe while it writhed in agony. Being given such a small window of opportunity was all that he’d be offered. Turning to run from the scene, he witnessed the creature sprouting a new head—or multiple. A sudden crack and spray of blood coated his back, alarming him with the close proximity of the creature.

Piercing fangs dug into his flesh while scaly bodies swarmed him, tugging him closer to their host. His blood curdling screams were heard by no one, allowing this demonic presence to feast upon his purity in peace.

No matter how many times you looked out the window, there was no sign of him. The others returned hours ago, mentioning that he’d run off and they couldn’t keep up with him. Dread sunk in when thoughts of ‘what if’ reared their ugly heads. With dusk approaching, leaving him out there cold and alone was not an option.

Calling out his name wasn’t the safest route, but it was the only one worth trying if you had any hope in finding him. Having brought your lantern, you put off lighting it until it was completely necessary, although the falling sunlight on the trees blanketed you with unease.

Seeing something moving between the trees off in the distance, your woes momentarily subsided as you called out for your husband. Hurrying towards him, the thick leaves made it difficult to see, leading you to ignite your beacon of hope.

Holding the lantern up, it promptly fell to the forest floor as soon as you saw his clothes clinging to him, caked with crimson. Rushing to his side, your heart sank to the earth beneath your feet. You hadn’t seen his head prior. In simply panicking and dropping your source of light, you’d taken away your right to see what had been done to him, to your beloved husband.

Backing up too hastily, a tree root caught your ankle, leaving you sprawled out on the cold moist ground. Witnessing your dearly departed leer over you shattered your pained heart into pieces that could never be mended.

“Law, what happened to you?” Sobbing uncontrollably, your tears were the only things keeping your face warm.

It planted his feet on either side of you, jerking into a craned pose. Your breaths were rapid signaling to it that you were prey—too terrified to move.

When a hand hurtled to your side digging its fingers into the soil, your wince of fright irked it. Faint hissing reached your ear, leaking into your worst nightmares.

Unable to face it, you cowarded away, sealing your eyes in an attempt at imagining your loving husband being over you instead. Beaten down into submission, you were left helpless to the beast's other wandering hand: ripping at your blouse, clawing off your pants. Telling yourself that it was still Law gave you no peace of mind—the hissing and slithering bodies brushing against your exposed skin served as heinous reminders.

Pain spread across your vulnerable form only intensifying with each thrust. The audible sobs only stirred anger within the vessel, so you clamped your hands over your mouth to muffle them. With the bucking becoming rougher and more frantic, your sorrow seeped past your fingers, leaving your cries sharp and wet against your skin.

Guttural grunts that somewhat resembled Law’s could have made it easier to delude yourself into thinking that this was still him. However, when accompanied with the snakes coiling their bodies around your arms and legs and flicking their tongues against your nipples and clit, such fantasies were demolished.

Your body was being dug further into the soil, dirt sticking to your sweat kissed flesh, all the while your ability to shed any more tears was being stripped away. Risking a glance at your ill-fated lover, the glow of the lantern illuminated his human body. In spite of the fact that it was paler, sicklier and coated in blood, it still resembled him. 

With your tear stained eyes on it, the pace grew more rigid, possessive even, making you squirm underneath it. Blood beaded around the opening of your abused slit as you braced yourself for what you’d been fretting.

Each unforgiving jerk pumped you with its abominable seed, mixing with your blood to create an unholy elixir. Having finished with you, the shell of your husband reeled back, leaving you to sort through the trauma it’d just placed on you.

Swelling with a whirlwind of conflicting emotions, you eased yourself back up once you were sure it was far enough away. Practically crawling back to your home, you locked all the doors and windows before limping into the bathtub. The soap burned each of your cuts, having you recall the ways they’d been inflicted on you.

You knew you’d never be able to scrub that night’s events off of you. They’d be etched into your memory for as long as you lived, but you held onto that last ounce of faith that you wouldn’t be burdened with mothering a crime against nature.

[redroomreflections]

It’s Christmas

Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader

Notes: obviously it’s April but I’m bringing back one of my fav pieces of writing.

The Loud House AU is uploaded on a03 in all of its almost finished glory. Here

SMUT INSIDE - MINORS DNI

This Christmas was going to be different for you. You could tell from the constant snowfall just outside of your window. A blanket of snow covered the entire city just in time for the holiday. The Christmas spirit settled deep in your bones as you thought about how much fun you would have today. With the amount of planning and prepping you did it was a miracle that everything was actually falling into place. Briefly, you went over a mental checklist in your head. Your entire family was here. Each person is in their designated bed or couch. Presents were already under the tree labeled and wrapped. Cookies and milk sitting on the coffee table for Santa. Ones that you munched on to give off the illusion that he visited your house. It was a holiday just like you dreamed of as a kid. The one thing that would make this all better was…your wife. You missed her dearly. It never seemed like there was enough time between you two. This year has been busy and with the kids, work, animals, and everything it’s easy to get lost in things that aren’t each other. The ache in your chest becomes too much. You want Natasha.

You trail your fingers over to the few inches between you. She’s asleep on her side, facing away from you, with her legs angled up towards her stomach. You scoot so her legs are touching yours. You can feel the heat of her body you’re so close. All you want is to feel her. You bring your hand to her arm to trace the smooth skin and her response to your touch is immediate. You stretch your neck to plant a kiss against the back of hers before moving to kiss along her shoulder. Natasha shifts, her breathing no longer the even steadiness of sleep, as she awakens.

“What time is it?” She husks. You can feel the goosebumps on her arms as you continue your touches.

“Early,” You shrug even though she can’t see you. You don’t wait for protest as you wrap your arm around her stomach to pull her against you. She clearly likes your show of strength as a gasp leaves her lips. Her back is now pressed against your front. The curve of her ass fits so perfectly settled against your pelvis. She lets out a breath as you move your hand back to her arm. “It’s Christmas.”

“It’s Christmas,” Natasha repeats. She’s quickly warming up to your advances as she not so subtly pushes her ass into you. She places her hand over yours only to direct your touches to another part of her body. Natasha is direct. She lets you know what she wants. She places your hand just above the waistband of her panties. They’re not anything special. Simple cotton with a thicker waistband but you can’t help how much they turn you on. Your left-hand taps her back and she lifts up for you to slide it under her body. You caress her breast, massaging the soft tissue, as she leans into you more. Her legs part automatically as soon as you push inside of her panties. Your fingers meet dark red curls. She’s not shaved and it’s just how you like it. There’s a shiver along her spine at the first touch of your fingers against her lips. You force her legs open more, positioning your knee under her right leg, leaving her completely open and at your mercy.

There’s not a sound in the room except your heavy breathing and her soft moans. No one needs to say anything you both know what you want. Your hand glides through her wetness with ease. She’s always ready and willing for you to take her. Whenever and however. There is something about the intimacy of this position. She’s facing away from you relying on you to bring her this pleasure. You’re not one to deny her. The tip of your finger circles her clit experimentally. The moan she elicits tells you you’re on the right track.

“Baby,” She moans into the pillow. “Don’t tease.”

“Never,” You promise her as you pull back just slightly to push her onto her back. You’ve changed your mind and want to see all of her. You want to see her face screwed up in pleasure. You want to see the way she bites her lips to keep from screaming out. You want to feel her utterly lost in the feeling of you as she cums. She leans back against the pillows as she lifts her hips to aid in taking off her underwear. You don’t toss the offending item too far in case the little ones wake up earlier than planned.

Natasha looks up at you expectantly with half-lidded eyes. Her chest heaves as she waits for you to do something. Anything. She looks so good like this. So sexy. All for you. Only for you. You can’t help but lean over her, not quite touching her, as you kiss her for the first time that morning. It’s slow, sweet, and a little bit filthy the way she sucks on your tongue. Morning breath be damned. Everything is moving so slowly despite the amount of time you actually have.

“They’re going to be up soon,” She nips at your bottom lip.

“Guess I better get to work then,” You kiss her one last time before moving down her body. You kiss along her clothed upper half, sucking a hardened nipple into your mouth. You give a soft bite as a parting gift before directing your kisses lower. You don’t wait, you don’t tease, and you certainly don’t half-ass it. Her legs part for you, as you settle onto your stomach under the covers, her hands gripping your head. The first lick against her slit causes her to moan. You raise your hand to use two fingers to keep her open. This time the moan she lets out is downright porn-ish. Her back arches as she hisses a quiet “yes,” into the air. You tongue along her clit, coaxing it out of its hood. You suck like it’s the last time you’ll ever do it and Natasha bites her lip to control her volume. You can feel the sleep fully leaving her body as she’s awakened by the new sensations.

“Yes, baby,” She cries just as you give her clit a particularly hard suck. She’s close. She doesn’t need much to come this time. You wrap your arm around her left leg to hold her down as you bring your other fingers to circle her entrance. You breach her hole with one finger thrusting inside experimentally before pulling back out. Natasha whimpers, trying to fight against your hold as she shivers again. “I need more,” She begs. On another thrust out, you add one more finger, pushing into her with a bit more resistance.

“Mhmm,” You moan at the taste of her sending vibrations through her core. You thrust in slowly allowing her to adjust. Finally, when you feel the way her legs shake with each touch against her walls, you speed up. You work overtime to bring her to the brink of pleasure as you suck her clit all the while torpedoing your tongue against the swollen bud. Her eyes fly closed and the grip on your hair tightens. You can feel the slight pain at the base of your neck but you ignore it.

“Look at me baby,” You pull away from her clit, stopping your movements, waiting for her to open her eyes. Natasha groans pulling herself together enough to look down at you. “Good,” You mumble to yourself as you return your lips to where she needs them most. This time your pace is brutal. You need to feel her clench around you. You press against the leg you’re holding to push it up towards her chest. She’s flexible and the move isn’t anything she hasn’t done before. This opens her up wider as you reach under her shirt to grab at her breast. You pinch at her nipple in tandem with the flicks of your tongue. You don’t move or give any firm touch. Just a tracing of your thumb against the edge but it brings her more pleasure. Your other hand continues to thrust inside of her at a pace that has her reeling. She clenches around you, a new gush of wetness coating your fingers, as she cries out over and over.

“Baby, I’m going to-” Natasha whines as she moves her hips against your fingers. She’s almost there you can feel it in the way she breathes, in her needy moans, and the way she’s gripping you. She just needs a bit more.

Before you can react and before she can even finish her sentence the door of your bedroom swings open and a small body catapults itself on your bed.

“It’s Christmas!” Your son mimics the exact words from earlier just as you push yourself under the covers further while letting go of Natasha’s leg. You reluctantly pull your fingers out of her and Natasha has the decency to hide her disappointed whine with a cough. If either of you moves any further he’s going to get an eyeful and you’d rather die. “Mama, it’s Christmas.” He cheers again and Natasha nods along with him.

“I know,” She mumbles as she tries to get her bearings. “James, baby, you didn’t wake up the others did you?” She asks and before he can give her an answer she’s met by the familiar pitter-patter of footsteps coming down the hall. It’s your older daughter. You can tell you’re both holding your breath in hopes that she didn’t bring the little one. Anything but the little one.

Natasha groans as she spots your struggling five-year-old as she carries her baby sister into your bedroom. The toddler practically weighs more than her as she holds her with one hand wrapped around her waist and the other between her legs to clasp her hands together. The toddler in question doesn’t look the least bit phased as her eyes light up upon seeing Natasha.

“Oh, Charlie, you really didn’t have to take Paige out of her crib,” Natasha says exasperatedly.

“It’s okay Mama, I’m big enough to do it,” Charlie comments as she grunts. She stands on the tips of her toes to push Paige onto the bed. “Where’s Mommy?” She walks around to Natasha’s side of the bed.

Natasha reaches to pinch you under the covers but she misses your intended shoulder and ends up with her nails in your cheek.

“Ouch,” You groan and all eyes fly to the lump under the covers.

“Mommy?” James pokes at your form. “What are you doing under there?”

“M-mommy is just playing hide and seek,” You attempt which piques his interest even more.

“Well, I wanna play too,” The three-year-old grabs at the edge of the cover attempting to climb under them.

“No!” Natasha’s protest is a bit louder than necessary startling the kids. At James’ pout and watering eyes, she tries again. “What I meant is that you need your own original hiding spot. It’s not fair to take someone else’s.” She tries and you breathe a sigh of relief at her quick thinking.

“Oh,” James sits back on his legs. He didn’t think of that.

“But why is Mommy hiding under there if you can find her?” Charlie's inquisitive nature isn’t helping you right now. “What were you doing?”. Both of you fumble for an answer. Meanwhile, Natasha tries to combat Paige’s wandering hands as the toddler climbs into her lap. It’s a tight fit that almost has you suffocating from your position under the covers. Totally not how you want to die.

“I know why,” Another voice joins in. Natasha yelps as she spots your oldest daughter, Cara, standing against the doorframe. Natasha almost forgot you had more. She sports a mischievous grin as she tilts her head. Natasha immediately shoots the thirteen-year-old a murderous look. Why oh why did you decide to have kids in the first place?

“Well, why?” Charlie turns to her sister. She blinks not quite understanding the silent conversation they’re having.

“I could tell you,” Cara shrugs. She pauses just for another second before turning and gesturing towards the door. “Or we could go downstairs and help Baba and Deda finish breakfast. Which is so much cooler than my explanation.”

“Pancakes?” James asks.

“Pancakes,” Cara confirms.

“I want,” James forgets you’re even there as he climbs over you, effectively managing to knee you in the back in his haste to go down the stairs. You groan in pain as you wait for his retreating footsteps.

“I wanna help too,” Charlie chases after her younger brother leaving Paige behind. Cara steps across the room, a disgusted look on her face, as she reaches to take the toddler in her arms.

“Mama,” Paige whines not wanting to be separated from her mother just yet.

“Thank you,” Natasha thanked her.

“No way, you two owe me, big time.” Cara shakes her head. “One of those gifts better be a new phone or else I’m telling everyone downstairs.”

“You wouldn’t?” You finally peek from under the covers.

“Oh, I would.” Cara laughs. She’s only half-joking. She’s a good blackmailer that’s for sure. Compliments of her mother being a spy and her other mother being a district attorney. “Now, please, put on the matching pajamas and meet us downstairs in twenty. That’s all I’m giving or Auntie Yelena will come searching for you.”

“We got it,” You roll your eyes knowing her threat is true. Yelena was just like the other kids on Christmas. Excited and energetic. Which was a bad combination in itself.

Cara closes the door behind her leaving you to clean up and get dressed. You wait a few more minutes before looking up at Natasha.

“That was close,” You say and she frowns.

“So was I,” She quips lying back against the pillows to relax.

“Well, she did give us twenty minutes.” You suggest. Natasha removes the arm over her eyes to look at you. Wasn’t a bad idea.

Twenty minutes went by way too fast though you finally have the time to make Natasha cum at least once. You’re just about to start another round when Yelena’s incessant knocking.

“Come out now, or I will drag you by the tits!” She yells through the door before going back downstairs.

What a morning.

Finally, you and Natasha leave the safety of your bedroom to go downstairs and join the rest of the family for breakfast. Natasha immediately goes for the coffee. She mumbled a hello before pouring herself a full cup. You sit at the table, stealing a few strawberries from Paige’s high chair, as she feeds herself.

“So nice to see you this morning,” Melina greets placing a plate of food in front of you.

Alexei is too busy engaging in an intense game of thumb wrestling with James across the table to greet you.

“If they weren’t too busy screwing each other’s brains out the morning would have gone along much quicker,” Yelena mutters.

“Yelena,” Melina scolds and Alexei groans from his spot at the table.

“Mama and Mommy were playing hide and seek,” James supplies as he sits up further to get a good grip on Alexei’s hand.

“Was that what they called it?” Yelena raised a brow. Cara snickers. “Back in my day, it was called -”

“Yelena, I promise both you and Cara’s gifts will be shipped back to the store faster than you can finish that sentence,” Natasha warns from over her mug.

“I didn’t even say anything!” Cara whines.

“You’re no fun,” Yelena pouts before stuffing a waffle in her mouth.

“We did see Santa ate the cookies,” James informed you. “He ate them all up but didn’t drink the milk.”

“Santa’s lactose intolerant we forgot,” You grimace. You were not very fond of the taste of milk and refused to drink it even to fool your kids.

“Morgan says Santa isn’t real and that all of her presents came from her daddy,” Charlie says suddenly. She looks expectantly at you with thick lashes and bright green eyes.

“Morgan also said she could fly and she hasn’t shown you yet,” Yelena interrupted. Nice save.

“Can we open presents now?” Charlie bounces in her seat. “We waited all day for you to eat breakfast.”

“Yes, we can open presents now,” You finish off your meal. Neither of the kids waits for the adults as they race into the living room. Even Cara seems excited as she follows her younger siblings. You help Paige out of her high chair and she toddles behind the rest of them, not missing a beat.

You help Melina put the dishes away while Yelena wipes down the table. Natasha and Alexei are in charge of putting away leftovers. If you keep it clean now you won’t have to clean it later. That’s always been the family motto.

Everyone is gathered in the living room just in time for the first present to be opened. You sit on the edge of the couch with Natasha curling into your lap. She leans her head against your shoulders completely satisfied and in love. Your fingers trace the skin of her back under her pajamas as you watch the kids tear into their presents.

Melina and Alexei help to open and find presents with each of the kids. Yelena is at her own part of the tree ripping open her own presents. She’s just as happy as the rest of them.

“I got new skates?” Caras gasps as she opens up the shoe box. They’re pale pink with yellow shoelaces. Just like she asked for. “Thanks, moms.” She gives you a thumbs-up from across the room.

“I got a new doll!” Charlie is quick to show her bigger sister. She pushes the box into Cara’s lap. “Can you help me open it?”

“Yeah,” Cara turns the box over and over in her hands.

“Santa gave me a nerf gun?” James waits patiently as Alexei inserts the fake rubber bullets into the toy.

“Santa actually brought all of us nerf guns,” Natasha informs the room. “I figured after we open presents we can play?”

“Definitely,” Cara shares in the excitement as she hands the now-opened doll back to Charlie

“Whoa!” Yelena shouts as she grips the edges of a brand-new tactical suit. “This is so badass.”

“It was my idea,” You tell her. “Tony and I came up with some new upgrades. Pockets and all sorts of things.” You say as she feels the materials in her hands.

“So cool,” Is all she can say as she drops the suit back into the box. She stands from her seat with a pout on her face. She gives you no time to move as she tackles you both in a bear hug. “You guys, this is the best Christmas ever!”

The best Christmas ever indeed. Once all the presents are opened and all nerf guns assembled everyone splits up into teams. You with Cara, Natasha with Yelena, Alexei, and Melina with the kids. Everyone has their separate spots in the house as a base. The only rule was to shoot as many people as you can. Which proves to be hard with spies and assassins using their skills to their advantage. It’s pure, delightful chaos. Until you’re facing off against Natasha. Her gun is drawn, pointed straight at your forehead, while yours is pointed toward her chest.

“Put yours down,” She instructs and you shake your head. You raise your chin signaling for her put hers down. It’s a sort of dance between you two as you walk in a circle around the island. You can hear laughter and the sound of toy guns going off in other parts of the house. She raises a brow. A new tactic. “I will let you fuck me with your Christmas present tonight if you put it down.”

“Christmas present?” Your voice breaks as you lick your lips. You hadn’t heard of a Christmas present besides the ones you exchanged earlier today.

“Oh yeah,” Natasha doesn’t offer more. “I think you’ll be very happy with it.” She promises.

“Okay, I’m out.” You lower your gun allowing her to shoot you smack dab in the middle of your head. She’s a good shot. You raise your hand to rub against the sore spot on your face. You pout, bottom lip poking out, as you look over to Natasha. “I didn’t think you’d really shoot me.”

“Merry Christmas,” Natasha steps around the counter to plant a kiss against the spot she just shot. She smirks before running out of the room to find the other half of her team.

[lilyinavalley]

Sinners Damnation

CHAPTER I - Encounter Il dottore x female oc

-SPOILER WARNING! This story happens after Scaramouche erases his existence from Irminsul, so even if the events are not happening in the current timeline of the game the 6th harbinger position is still vacant :) -TAGS: isekai but the mc doesn’t know about genshin, scientist mc, angst, eventual smut, fate, dubious morals, dubious ethics, canon divergences, no description of body features other than the characteristics of a general female body

Ao3 link

It is said that love brings the best out of people What if it does the opposite? What happens when two lovers bring the worst out of each other? When their most selfish and disgusting desires come to light?

This is the story of a man and a woman that should’ve never met

Red sky, no stars, crimson wet soil, no grass. I walked, walked and walked, bare feet stained with the dark fluid that came out from the ground every time I took a step. I was completely naked, limbs hurting from the cold and fatigue, hollow eyes always looking ahead, legs that couldn’t stop, as my will was no more.

This is a warning from the Gods above, the appetizer of what my after death is going to be if I continue to stay by his side, such is the conclusion I came to.

Every night I have this dream and every morning I wake up with a bone chilling sense of  dread.

But saying that he is the only reason behind this is an absolute naivety, for I am also a sinner.

Pain, it spread from the tip of my fingers, slow and cold.

I opened my eyes wide and with a moan of pain I looked at my hands, it was snow, the little particles of ice were slowly freezing my skin, the violet color of the phalanxes the proof.

My clothes were in complete contrast to the environment that was around me, a light sundress was covering my aching body, sandals at my feet, a straw hat a few meters from me, strange, considering the unnatural stillness of the air. 

How did I get here? What was I even doing?

Apparently I woke up in a pine forest, no village, human or animal in sight, in the snow there weren't any signs of footprints, not even mine, it looked like I fell from the sky.

The pain was unbearable and apparently at that moment I couldn’t recall the events that led me in that place, nor I had any memories of my past; but giving up wasn’t an option, so with extreme fatigue I stood up and started to walk in a random direction.

The cold pierced my bare skin, the soles of my feet started to sore and bleed from the direct contact with the snow, my lips gained a violet hue, but still, I didn’t want to stop.

As I went forward, the surroundings didn’t change one bit, it was like I wasn’t even moving.

Is it some kind of punishment? What did I even do to deserve this?

At some point one leg didn’t answer my will to go forward anymore, my sight also started to blur, probably my brain was getting frozen too.

After a couple more steps everything turned black.

The young woman fell lifeless on the carpet of snow. Maybe because she didn’t give up, or maybe for sheer luck, a few moments later a group of masked soldiers on their way for a mission saw her body in the distance. Alarmed, they got closer, one of them checked her breath, she still had a pulse, weak, but present nonetheless. He took her gently in his arms, covered her with a greatcoat and laid her in the seats of the coach. The soldiers looked at her curiously, everything about her was strange, she gave off an odd vibe, like she wasn’t even from that world. They also noticed the fact that her body was completely abandoned,  without footprints around her, considering how she was dressed and the fact that she was also alive and that it wasn’t snowing, it was impossible that she was laying there for so much time that the traces were covered by a snowfall. 

The men looked at each other and came to the same conclusion.

“Let’s bring her to our Lord harbinger”

The regular ticking of a pendulum clock, the soft creaking of fire, a reassuring and enveloping warmth, these were the things that I heard first as I slowly woke up from a dreamless and deep slumber. My body was covered with a heavy and soft duvet, only my head uncovered, my limbs weren’t hurting anymore.

I got into a sitting position, the blanket fell to my waist, I was wearing a plain nightgown with a very thick fabric, I bared my legs and I noticed that my feet were completely bandaged.

I got lucky I guess

The precariousness of my situation made me anxious, countless questions and doubts started to swarm in my mind.

Where am I?

Am I in danger?

I’m so scared 

I just want to sleep and go back to where I was

But where was I before waking up in the snow?

Why did this happen to me?

Who even am I?

I took a deep breath and I closed my eyes to clear my mind. When I gained control of my thoughts again I started to analyze the situation: for some reason I had no memories of my life, giving the circumstance I woke up in, I probably didn’t come to that forest willingly, I had no idea of where I was and there was literally nothing that gave me even a faint sense of familiarity. 

The room I was staying in was very spacious, it was square shaped, everything, from the walls to the furniture, was in shades of white and light blue. 

On my left there was a giant English style window, through the glass was reflected a raging snowstorm, other than that I could only see a never ending plain of immaculate white, beautiful and alienating at the same time.

I stood up, the bandages on my feet slightly protecting them from the cold of the marble floor, I cautiously walked towards the fireplace, the only source of warmth of the room, I crouched down by keeping a safe distance, the soft yellow and orange hues painted my face. When the heat imbued my body, I stood up to search the room. Parallel to the window there was a large fir door, on its right a full body mirror that reflected the sight of the snowstorm. I went for the door first, I lowered the handle and tried to pry the door open, but it didn’t move an inch, so I walked to the mirror and stood straight to look at my reflection. The woman in front of me was both familiar and foreign at the same time. 

I’m very pretty I have to say, a bit shabby, but I quite literally escaped death, so that’s reasonable I guess

Then I heard a light echo of footsteps, someone was walking in my direction.

Anxiety and panic rose once again, a piercing sense of chill went up to my brain passing through my spine.

My body was completely frozen on the spot, I looked like a lamb patiently waiting for the inevitable doom. The steps got closer and closer, until they stopped at once. I could feel the loom of danger even through the closed door.

The squeaking sound of keys forewent the slow opening of the light colored door.

The wolf deprived the lamb of any chance to escape

A tall man entered the room, and as soon as his foot landed on the floor, the temperature seemed to drop by a few degrees.

That was our first encounter, the image of his dreadful figure shook me to my deepest core; -even if it happened in the distant past, I still remember it like it happened yesterday. My reaction was normal though, even with my current understanding of the man I wouldn’t say that I was silly, at the time he was no different than a blood driven monster, blindly following his every whim, everything and everybody else just props to his play-

He was wearing a strange shaped mask that covered the upper half of his face, it almost looked like a beak; even if his eyes were covered, I could feel him gazing intently at every inch of my body.

-I wonder what he was thinking at the time, seeing such a proud looking lady, terrified by his dreadful appearance, but looking at him straight in the eyes nonetheless- 

He opened his mouth, a string of incomprehensible words reached my ears.

What the hell is he saying, I can’t understand a word of this language, I don’t even think I ever heard that before

I frowned in confusion and as soon as he saw my dumbfounded expression he halted his speech. His lips suddenly curved into a devious smile and he said something with a satisfied tone.

Scared by his ominous stare, I took a few steps back.

After thinking for some seconds, he took out a small object from his pants pocket, it was a metal object, shaped like a eucalyptus leaf.  

He held his hand to me, the strange object in his palm.

I was still wary of him, but both for curiosity and lack of other options (more the second) I cautiously got closer.

In his eyes I’m sure I looked ridiculous, I was completely defenseless, but I kept up a fierce and intimidating look, as if I could really scare him or react in a possible dire situation. -How amusing-

Seeing that I trusted him enough to get a little bit closer, he held out his fingers even more and out of nowhere the object began to emit a light green light, it also started to float. Is it magic that I’m seeing?

It became smaller and smaller until it was no bigger than a breadcrumb; then it moved so fast that my eyes couldn’t even perceive the movement and entered one of my ears, the tickle gave me goosebumps.

“Don’t worry it’s not harmful”

And right after he said that a head splitting headache suddenly blackened my vision.

“Not harmful?!” I said with clenched teeth and a reprimanding voice.

“It seems to work” He stated proudly.

After a few seconds the pain subsided and I looked at him with a hateful glare.

“I understand what you are saying now, and apparently I can talk your language too. What is this?”

He grinned and gave a satisfied scoff.

“It’s one of my inventions of course, it injects the information I put inside directly into your brain, quite interesting isn’t it? The headache is just a little side effect”

I wouldn’t call it “little” but nevermind, at least I can talk to him

“What is this place?” I asked and turned to the window again, the snowstorm was still raging, white snowflakes were hitting the glass, the contrast with the warm temperature of the room let them melt, but the iciness of the air outside prevailed, so the droplets of water froze once again.

“This is the country of everwinter, Snezhnaya”

I’ve never heard of this place, where the fuck did I end up?

Uneasiness enveloped my heart like thorns.

“But it's useless information for you, am I right?

Without me noticing, he got closer and with his towering height he looked down on me.

I felt so small, both physically and mentally.

“You are not from this world”

I widened my eyes, but I still kept my mouth shut. I wasn’t surprised, deep in my heart I already knew it, call it gut feeling.

“You are not the first one to come to Teyvat, we call them descenders, but usually they are powerful beings, capable of changing the fate of this world. That’s not your case though, I checked your body and you have the anatomy of a common mortal with not an ounce of strange otherworldly power”

He did what?!

“I wonder what was the trigger that made you come here”

He rubbed his chin with one hand, he inclined his head and some peculiar pendant earring popped up from his light blue wavy hair. It looked like a test tube, a fluorescent liquid rattled inside.

The man was probably a scientist of some kind.

As soon as I had this realization, countless memories flashed in my mind, causing my head to spin. 

Images of me in university attending lectures, me in a white lab coat preparing histological slides, me analyzing microorganisms with a microscope, me doing a presentation in a conference.

I seem to have gotten part of my memories back

Overwhelmed by the sudden surge of memories I put my hands on my hair and crouched a little. 

That behavior also surprised the apparently all knowing scientist, as he knitted his eyebrows.

“What’s going on young lady?”

Still shaken, I gasped.

Can I trust him? There is something deeply wrong about him, even with his eyes covered I can feel the glare of blind curiosity towards the unknown, as a scientist myself I understand what it means to have something you have never seen to study. 

So I put all my fate to his hunger for discovery .

“I lack a great part of my memories”

He looked at me a bit dumbfounded and crossed his arms.

“Right now I got some of them back”

I stood up and looked straight to where I thought his eyes were.

“What do you want to do with me?”

A snort escaped his lips, then a subdued laughter, and in the end he started to laugh uncontrollably, he looked like a complete psycho.

I’m done

As if a switch had been flipped, he stopped at once, he put his hand close to my ear and with a finger he curled a lock of hair.

“Tell me, do you remember your name?”

“I do not” I said sternly.

He hummed in thought, let go of my hair and stepped back.

“I will help you with your memories, for now, you don’t have to worry about anything else”

He turned and walked towards the door.

“Wait”

He stopped and turned slightly.

“What is your name?”

“Just call me Doctor” 

He went out and closed the door without turning back.

Really, what did I do wrong to end up here?

[minty-mumbles]

Gingerbread

Summary: The chain has found themselves at Lon Lon Ranch in the middle of the Yule season. Sky finds Wild alone in the kitchen late one evening, and offers both company and help with the baking the champion is doing.

A/N: Secret Santa gift for @themackenziemachine

(Read on AO3 Here)

~~~

A thick layer of snow covered Lon Lon Ranch, blanketing the world in silence the way only a fresh snowfall could. Thick snowflakes still fell from the sky, quickly filling in the tracks left behind by a pair of people trudging out to the barn and then back to the house. 

Inside, things were just as quiet. Two pairs of snowy boots were left piled by the front door, quickly forming a puddle from the snow melting off them. Their owners were nowhere to be seen, already retreating up to the bedrooms on the second floor of the house. A fire burned lowly in the hearth, nothing but embers remaining after burning for hours. The evergreen boughs and springs of holly that were placed on the mantle for decoration filled the house with their scent, filling it with holiday cheer.

The only sounds in the house came from the kitchen, where a scarred boy stood alone, working at the kitchen counter. A disk of brown dough sat before him. Repetitively and methodically, he worked with his hands and a rolling pin until it turned into a thin, flat sheet of dough. 

When he was finished with that, he picked up a sharp knife but was interrupted by the sounds of someone coming down the stairs.

 It was Sky. He was lacking his outer tunic, his hair was mussed and he had clearly just come from bed. Wild turned back to what he was doing, cutting shapes into the sheet of dough.

“Wild?” Sky asked, voice soft with sleep.

Wild didn’t respond, not that Sky needed him to in order to identify the hunched-over form in the kitchen. He already knew it was the champion. He walked a bit closer, brow furrowed as he took in Wild’s appearance. “Twilight and Time just came back from making sure the animals were all taken care of. Twilight said you were still up. He was worried.”

Wild barely glanced at Sky but dismissively murmured, “I couldn't sleep.” 

Sky approached, looking at the messy counter, covered in flour and small scraps of dough. 

“What are you doing?” 

“Baking the gingerbread. I was gonna do it tomorrow but it’s chilled long enough.” Sky smiled at that. Baking had always been one of his favorite Yule traditions. “Gingerbread” wasn’t something he was familiar with from Skyloft, but enough of the other heroes had been delighted when Wild said he would make them that Sky was looking forward to trying them all the same.

“Do you want some company?”

Wild sighed, glancing at Sky again. His eyes lingered for a second, taking in Sky’s disheveled appearance. “I’m okay, really. I didn’t have a nightmare or anything. I just couldn’t sleep. You can go back to bed. There’s no need to check on me.”

Sky smiled. “I know. I was already getting up to get a glass of water. I just don’t want you to be lonely. I like banking anyway. I usually do some with Sun every Yule, so I’m not totally incompetent.” 

Wild didn’t seem to believe that Sky truly wanted to keep him company, but didn’t have the energy to argue anymore, motioning him to wash off his hands before he touched the food. 

Many hands made light work. In no time at all, the rest of the dough had been rolled out and cut into shape, and laid out carefully on several sheet pans.

“Not bad,” Sky commented, appraising the cookies. They were all cut into the traditional gingerbread man shape. A few of them were lopsided, but they were all recognizable.

“Oh,” Wild said. “I should’ve let you cut them out. You’re the artist between the two of us, with your woodcutting.”

“You did a fine job,“ Sky assured him. ”Woodcutting doesn’t translate over into cookie cutting that well, anyway. What’s next?”

“Baking them,” Wild said absently, already opening the oven. A wave of heat blasted out, making Sky shiver. He hadn’t realized how chilly it had gotten in the house with the fire burning so low. Wild picked up one of the trays and turned to slide them into the oven. 

“How long do they have to bake?” Sky asked, looking at the rest of the trays left on the counter. He hoped they wouldn’t take not long. He was getting a bit tired, but he had promised Wild some company, so he would stay awake. It was clear the champion needed it. 

“Ten minutes,” Wild said shortly. He closed the oven door, but made no more movements, just staring straight ahead, as if lost in thought. When he didn’t move, Sky put a hand on his shoulder. Wild jumped a bit at the touch, but soon relaxed into his hand.

“Come on, let's go sit by the fire. It’s a bit chilly.” 

That stirred Wild into action, and the two of them quietly shuffled over the area in front of the fireplace. Sky added a few logs to the fireplace, sending sparks to flare up, carried on the updraft up the chimney. Wild, seemingly remembering what Sky had come downstairs for in the first place, set some milk over the fire to warm. When it was steaming, he carefully poured two cups, and grated some nutmeg on top of both of them.

Sky smiled at the sight of the expensive spice. On Skyloft, nutmeg was a luxury, only used on special occasions. From what he had gathered, it was the same in most of the other hero’s eras, but he wasn't surprised that Wild had some stored away in his slate. If there was one thing the champion didn’t hesitate to spend money on, it was good food.

“Felt like splurging a bit?” Sky asked, but all he got back was a nonchalant hum. Wild was clearly not in the mood for chatting. Nonetheless, he gratefully accepted the cup of milk. 

Sky sipped at the drink slowly, savoring the taste of the expensive spice, but he still finished his cup before Wild could. The champions seemed enthralled with the fire, gaze unwaveringly fixed on the tongues of flame that licked at the blackened logs. He was so still that more than once Sky feared he’d fallen into a memory. 

Every so often Wild would blink, gaze flicking away from the fire and over to Sky, as if to make sure he was still there. Occasionally, he seemed to remember that he was holding a drink and took a sip, but then went right back to staring at the flames. 

After several minutes of companionable silence, Sky stood. His movement drew Wild’s attention, but Sky motioned for him to stay where he was. “I’ll be right back,” he assured. 

He made his way into the kitchen, and took the first tray of cookies out of the oven, set them aside to cool, and replaced them with another tray. Then he climbed the stairs to the second floor- carefully making sure to step over the third step from the top which always creaked loudly when it was stepped on. 

Entering the guest room where He’d been sleeping not even half an hour ago, Sky carefully picked his way around the sleeping bodies, feeling for his pack in the dark. He retrieved what he came for and left as quickly as he came, this time while cradling his harp close to his chest. Hopefully, he hadn’t disturbed the sleep of any of his brothers.

Wild was exactly where Sky had left him, and had gone back to staring at the fire. He didn’t look up as Sky returned, and didn’t seem to register the fact that Sky had brought his harp down with him.

 It was obvious by now that something was wrong with the champion, despite his claims. Maybe he truly hadn’t had a nightmare, and he really couldn’t sleep, but there was something else going on too.

Sky thought about prying. He thought about setting aside his harp and asking Wild what was wrong. But he wouldn’t imagine that would go well. Wild had already indicated he didn’t feel up to talking, even about mundane things. Sky doubted Wild would want to delve into his darker thoughts.

So instead of asking, Sky readied his harp, and began to play.

Wild jerked, not expecting the sudden music. He turned to look at Sky. He stared for long enough that Sky thought he was going to say something, but instead he turned back to watch the light dance in the hearth.

Sky plucked at the strings gently, starting up a soothing melody. He kept it as quiet as possible, not wanting to disturb any of the sleeping heroes or Malon upstairs.

His playing didn’t seem to make Wild any happier or offer him a distraction from his thoughts, but it also didn’t seem to be making him upset. As Wild didn’t ask Sky to stop, the chosen hero continued his quiet playing.

In a break between songs, as Sky was plucking idly on the strings and thinking about which song to play next, Wild spoke up. His voice was so quiet, Sky nearly missed it, but he put aside his harp to listen better. 

“Yule feels so familiar. It’s so-” Wild cut himself off with a wavering sigh. Sky blinked at him in confusion before realizing Wild was probably telling him what had been on his mind the whole evening. 

“I can’t remember celebrating the holidays with my family. But the snow, and the smell of pine and nutmeg, and the warmth from the fire…” Wild trailed off, reaching out a hand out towards the flames as if feeling their warmth. Sky wondered if he even realized he was doing it. 

Wild slowly brought the hand back to his chest, clutching the front of his tunic loosely. “It all feels so familiar. It makes me happy, because I know I must have been happy before.” 

Sky didn’t ask what Wild meant by ‘before.’ He already knew.

“But it hurts so much, because I am never going to know exactly what I lost. No one can tell me about my family, and I’m probably never going to remember. I don’t even know them, but I still miss them so badly.” Wild seemed to lose steam the longer he spoke, his words trailing off into a miserable whisper until they were barely audible.

Sky’s first reaction was to try and reassure Wild that, of course, he would remember eventually. He bit his tongue, pushing down the urge. Wild didn’t seem to be expecting an immediate answer to what he’d said, so Sky took his time formulating his response. This wasn’t the time to be rushing into things and sticking his foot in it. 

It was a nice thought that eventually Wild would remember everything about his previous life, but not a very realistic one. And honestly, if Wild said he thought he wasn’t going to remember something, Sky was inclined to believe him. Wild knew more about his amnesia than Sky ever would. 

The boy had lost his family, in possibly the most permanent sense. He didn’t have any memories to look back on as he grieved. From what Sky knew, the boy didn’t even know who he was mourning. A mother and father, brothers or sisters, perhaps? Sky didn’t know, and he wasn’t sure Wild did either. How could Wild know when he couldn’t remember?

Telling Wild that the emotions he was feeling were wrong wasn't going to help anyone. 

The teen had been through a lot, and Sky knew from personal experiences that having your emotions dismissed felt horrible. Every reassurance that everything would be okay eventually felt like a personal insult when it seemed like nothing would ever be alright ever again. If you felt bad in the moment, being told you would feel better in the future wasn't helpful.

He wouldn't do that to Wild. Sky had been able to drag himself out of that horribly dark mindset after his own quest, but it had taken a long time, and support from his friends and family. 

He could be that support for Wild, as long as he needed it.

He set his harp to the side, scooting closer to Wild and wrapping an arm around his shoulders. Wild followed his tugging and leaned against Sky’s shoulder with no resistance. 

Sky did his best to offer comforting words. “You may not ever be able to remember your family, but you don’t need to remember what they were like to know you loved them. You don’t need to know their faces to mourn them. Not having many memories of your loved ones didn’t mean your love for them was diminished at all.”

Wild didn’t respond, but Sky hesitated to push him anymore. Wild was already being vulnerable tonight, Sky didn’t want to pressure him. 

At least Wild seemed in a slightly better mood as he contemplated Sky’s words. He didn’t return to his previous stupor, remaining alert instead of zoning out and staring at the fire. Sky hoped Wild would think about what Sky said. At the very least, he hoped that Wild wouldn’t hesitate to come to Sky again if he needed to talk. 

The silence continued, but it was more comfortable than before. Sky no longer felt the need to fill the quiet with music, content to simply sit next to Wild. That was, until an unpleasant scent reached Sky’s nose. He sniffed, frowning. It smelled like something was burning, and it wasn’t the pleasant scent of the pine wood in the fireplace.

“Wild, do you-” his words were cut off before he could even finish his question by Wild shooting up from where he’d been leaning into Sky’s side. 

“Oh gods, the cookies!”

There was a mad scramble to the kitchen, and Sky hovered anxiously while Wild grabbed the oven mitts and brought the second tray out of the oven. There was a moment of silence as the two of them observed the tray of cookies.

“Well,” Sky started, trying to be positive. “Some of them can be salvaged.”

Wild only sighed, putting the tray to the side, and turning to slide the next one into the oven. Sky watched in concern when Wild’s shoulder started to shake. Was he crying? When Wild turned around, though, Sky could see he was restraining himself from bursting into laughter. 

“Here I was throwing a pity party for myself, and letting the cookies burn,” Wild said, barely able to get his words out without wheezing. 

“What- it’s not your fault-” Sky spluttered, not sure how to respond to that, but Wild waved him off. The misfortune with the cookies seemed to have cheered him up even more, so Sky let it go, even though he didn't approve of Wild calling the evening a “pity party.”

The rest of the time waiting for the final three batches of cookies was spent sitting next to each other on the couch, this time with a much lighter atmosphere than before. Sky started playing again, and now Wild was actually paying attention. He seemed to appreciate Sky’s playing, and occasionally, he even piped up to say he recognized the song Sky was playing from his own era. (It always amazed Sky to hear that some parts of Skyloft’s culture, such as certain songs, survived through the many years that separated them.)

Sky could accept that although Wild wasn’t better- it would take a long time for Wild to truly make peace with his lost memories and his family’s death- he wasn’t feeling the crushing weight of that grief anymore tonight. 

By the time the last tray of cookies came out of the oven, Wild had decided that the first tray was cool enough to be iced. He was quick to whip up some simple icing. Powdered sugar with milk added a bit at a time until it reached the right consistency to pipe onto the cookies. Neither of them knew where Malon kept a piping bag in her kitchen or if she even had one at all, but thankfully, Wild had some stashed in his slate. 

Sky wasn’t surprised in the slightest that Wild had such a specific tool in his slate. He wouldn’t be surprised if it turned out Wild had an entire kitchen stuffed into his slate. He said as much, but Wild didn’t laugh at his joke. Sky decided it was best not to ask.

The icing started out simple and random, adding the impression of hair and clothes, all in white. It didn’t take long before Wild was making some of the cookies into people he knew. There was one of Flora, some that were meant to represent the new champions from Wild’s stories- Riju, Teba, Yunobo, and Sidon. Sky squinted, but he honestly couldn’t see how the one meant to represent Sidon looked like him at all. At least from what he remembered from the picture Wild had shown the group of heroes before. He cut Wild some slack though, since he only had white icing to work with, and was trying to squeeze a non-hylian onto a hylian-shaped cookie.

Sky liked the idea of decorating some of the cookies to resemble people he knew. He set about making one to represent Sun. He was so focused on his decoration that he didn’t notice what Wild was doing in the meantime until he was finished with his Sun cookie. When he looked up again, he was surprised to see Wild had- somehow- managed to make a whole rainbow of colors, already placed into piping bags.

“What?” He gasped. “How?”

Wild grinned sheepishly. “There’s a dye shop in Hateno, my hometown. They mostly make dye for clothing, but they also sell food-safe dye. It’s pretty expensive but I figured it might be useful to have some at some point so I bought some in every color. This is a good enough time as any to start using it. We won’t be as limited by the colors anymore.”

Sky felt a grin overtaking his features. He knew exactly who he wanted to make into a cookie next. Grabbing the red icing and a new cookie, and started constructing a familiar, ridiculous hairstyle. His only regret when he got done with the Groose coolie was that the man wouldn’t be able to see Sky’s masterpiece before it was devoured. It actually looked a decent amount like the man.

Leaning back, Sky popped his back, a bit stiff from having been sitting at the counter for so long. Looking over at Wild, he saw that the champion ws also finishing up his current cookie. When Wild held it up to show Sky, he could see it was colored to look exactly like Twilight. 

“That looks really good!” Sky said, leaning over to look closer. It really did look like a mini version of the rancher. Wild had even used a toothpick to carefully draw in the lines of Twilight’s facial tattoos. 

They worked quickly, occasionally exchanging snickers at the cute cookie versions of the other heroes. They even did one for Sky, with a mini sailcloth and all. All the cookies were messy. Some of the icing was smeared, but they remained recognizable as their fellow heroes. 

Occasionally, they had to stop for Wild to mix new colors to match the colors of the other heroes. Pink for Legend’s hair, purple for part of Four's tunic, a lighter blue for Wild and Wind’s tunics, and gray for Time’s armor. 

By the time they’d finished icing most of the cookies, the kitchen was covered in smears of colorful icing. Sky winced. He hoped the color wouldn't stain the counters. He doubted Time or Malon would appreciate waking up to find their kitchen more colorful than they’d left it the night before.

He and Wild leaned back, observing their work so far. Neither of them were painters and it was obvious, but none of the cookies looked half bad. Sky personally thought they looked great, but Wild seemed to disagree. Sky watched curiously as Wild leaned over, picked up the black icing, and added two tiny black lines over Legend’s eyes. 

“There, that’s much better. It looks way more like him,” he said, struggling to hold back a laugh at the angry expression on the cookie’s face. Sky had to hold back a snort too. He could already imagine the reaction Legend would have the next day when he noticed how his expression differed from the rest. Sky anticipated plenty of shouting and angry expressions from the veteran, not that it would help the vet prove that he ‘didn’t look like that.’ 

Now there was only one hero left to ice, and only one cookie left to be iced. “You’re the last one to ice,” Sky said, reaching for the last cookie before catching sight of it. When he did, he froze.

The only cookie left on the tray was from the batch they’d burnt early in the night. They’d needed to throw half of that batch in the trash, but had agreed some of the cookies were salvageable. This had been one of them. Unfortunately, the cookie was badly burnt all along one side. 

“Oh,” Sky nearly choked, casting a worried glance at Wild. He felt deeply conflicted about whether he should laugh at this or not. It was a little bit funny that the only cookie left for Wild was the one that was burnt, and the champion had never shown himself to be sensitive about his scars before. But Sky didn’t want Wild to think he was laughing at him. Especially after how emotional the night had already been. 

Thankfully, Wild answered that dilemma for him, breaking out into a strangled chuckle. Wild slapped a hand over his mouth, looking surprised at the laugh that had slipped out of him, and his startled expression was enough to set Sky off. Sky laughing seemed to make Wild break too, and soon both of them were bent over the counter, wheezing as quietly as they could.

Eventually, they managed to reign themselves in, and Wild picked up the blue icing, starting with the outline of his tunic. Sky remained content to watch him, occasionally handing him different colors when requested. Slowly, Sky let his mind wander. 

It had been an eventful night. Some part of him was still worried about Wild, but another part of him knew that the champion was strong enough to pull through his inner turmoil. 

The house still smelled like pine and holly, but now the sweet scent of the gingerbread also filled the house. The kitchen was pleasantly warm from the roaring fire and recently used an oven. Sky couldn’t help but find himself dozing off with his head propped up on his hand. 

It was late after all, well past the time they should have gone to sleep. Maybe it wouldn't hurt to doze a bit while Wild finished the last cookie.

Bonus: The Cookies :)

[animatorweirdo]

When the Dragons Fly (book 2)

Maedhros and Aelon share a moment and the elf comforts the boy after hearing about his experience as a prisoner. You leave for town to retrieve materials, but through your curiosity, you end up hearing a concerning prophecy about your future.

Chapter 11

Warnings: marriage teasing, mentions of scars, imprisonment, kidnapping, crying, comfort, the fortune teller being a bit afraid of the reader, palm reading, animal bones, mentions of death and tragedy, war, spooky, and some comfort from Maedhros.

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

Closing the door behind you and stepping off the porch, you checked the money in your pouch to ensure you had enough for the materials on your list. The sounds of Aelon practicing with Maedhros echoed through the air, the wooden sticks clashing in rhythmic beats. You then turned toward them. 

"Hey, Nelyo!" you called out, catching their attention. The two stopped to look at you.

"I need to go to town to run some errands. Can you watch Aelon for a while?" you asked.

"Sure, I've got plenty of time," Maedhros answered.

"Thank you. I'll be as quick as possible. And Aelon, make sure to train hard," you said and began walking away. "Yeah! Yeah!" Aelon called back as the two resumed their practice.

Walking through the village, you then notice Helena running up to you. 

“Hey, (Name)! Guess what! I got a new order from our buyer and the news that our jams and pastries sold well. He wants a new batch of them before the first snowfall,” she excitedly shared while walking with you toward the stables. 

“That’s great. Do we need any ingredients? I’m leaving for town, so I might as well bring some ingredients,” you questioned. 

“I don’t think so, maybe more sugar, but that’s all that comes to mind,” Helena replied. 

“Are you leaving Aelon under Mr. Good-looking’s care?” she grinned as she looked back toward your house. 

“Yes, since he agreed, and he also has a name, Helena, and it is Nelyo,” you replied, making her giggle. 

“Already defending him! Are you certain you’re not even the slightest interested in him? Gaining a partner would be good for you, but an elven partner would be a real catch,” Helena teased, nudging her elbow to your side. You rolled your eyes at her while shaking your head. 

“How about we keep things respectful? How about you worry about gaining a partner for yourself? Your mother has been asking when you will get married, hasn’t she?” you questioned, making her groan. 

“I’m in no hurry to get married, especially after what happened with Ennard. Besides, you’re older than me. I have to make sure you won’t end up dying alone like an old, crippled woman,” she said. You frowned at her, offended. “I’m not that old! I’m only three years older than you,” you said.

“Yet you’re closer to your thirties than me. The sooner you get married, the better,” Helena continued whining. 

You sighed. “You sound just like my mother when she tried to find me a husband, yet somehow you sound more insistent,” you mumbled. 

“Well, I have to look out for my best friend, don’t I?” Helena grinned. 

“You are more lucky with your mother and father. Most girls and women from my homeland are not just as lucky as you are when it comes to marriage,” you stated as you two arrived at the stables. 

“Anyway, I need to get going. How about you get started with our plans on making a new batch? I bring the sugar just in case,” you said as you took out some coins for borrowing a horse. 

“Sure. Safe travels,” Helena waved and then left while you grabbed yourself a saddled horse and left the village. 

After an hour of practice, Aelon and Maedhros were seated on your porch for a break. Aelon drank water while listening to Maedhros explain attacking tactics against enemies with smaller weapons or bows. 

"Now, when the enemy is wielding either a dagger or a bow," Maedhros began, his voice calm yet authoritative, "you'll want to close the distance swiftly while staying mindful of their range."

Aelon nodded attentively, wiping sweat from his brow with the back of his hand. "But how do you avoid their strikes?" he asked, curiosity gleaming in his eyes.

Maedhros leaned forward, his expression serious. "Timing and footwork are key," he explained, his voice steady with conviction. "You must anticipate their movements, deflect their strikes, and seize the opportunity to counter."

Aelon listened intently, absorbing every word as Maedhros continued to impart his knowledge, taking sips from the water. 

“Deflecting an arrow is straight-up impossible, unless you’re fast, so the wisest thing to do is to either have a shield or something that will protect you long enough to reach the archer,” Maedhros explained. Aelon nodded along, then glanced at the elf’s scars.

"Hey, Nelyo. I've been meaning to ask?" Aelon interupted.

“What is it?” Maedhros looked down on him. 

 "How did you get those scars?" Aelon asked. 

"I…” Maedhros hesitated. “It's a complicated story," he said. 

"Did you get them from a battle or something?" Aelon asked. 

"Not exactly... but they were afflicted by bad people," Maedhros answered. "It's not something someone of your age should know or hear about," he added. 

Aelon was quiet for a moment, lost in thought before he looked at the elf with widened eyes. “Were you kidnapped?!” he questioned.

Maedhros glanced at Aelon with surprised eyes. "Something like that..." he answered. "They hurt me badly, but I escaped, losing my hand along the way," he said, looking at his missing right hand. Memories rushed through his mind. 

Aelon watched as Maedhros stared at his missing hand. “Well, I’m glad you got away,” he smiled. 

"Me too..." Maedhros glanced toward the blonde boy. "What about you?" 

"Hmm?" Aelon looked at him curiously. 

"How did you get the scar on your cheek?" Maedhros pointed at his own as Aelon finally understood the question. 

"Oh! I got kidnapped too," Aelon answered. 

Maedhros stared at Aelon with surprise as the little boy focused his gaze on the grass. "Me and my friend were kidnapped by a really bad man, a vampire. We managed to escape, but..." Aelon hugged his knees, the memories of that night flooding back. "I sometimes dream of being back in that cell, surrounded by orcs, and waiting for that vampire to drink all my blood," he explained.

Maedhros looked sympathetically and then gently placed his hand on Aelon's shoulder, feeling the boy shiver. 

"Have you told (Name) about this?" Maedhros asked. 

"Yeah, but the dreams won't just go away. I don't know what's wrong with me," Aelon said as he began to tear up. "There's nothing wrong with you. It's normal to see nightmares and still feel scared by them," Maedhros said as Aelon began to shed tears. 

Maedhros said nothing, but softly pulled Aelon to his side, allowing the child to cling to him and cry. 

"It’s okay. You're safe," Maedhros said, rubbing Aelon's shoulders as the boy wept. He felt his heart ache for the child, but offered his comfort, remembering his own lack of solace upon being rescued from his imprisonment in Angband. 

You walked out of the shop, carrying the purchased materials and groceries. The streets of the town were as bustling as ever, and you were ready to head back home, having acquired all the items from your list and the additional sugar for your business.

You pack the items on the saddle, then your eyes fall upon a woman standing in front of a peculiar-looking tent. 

"Come around. Come around. Have your future told," the lady preached, trying to get attention from the passing people, who briefly ignored her. 

From the things she said and the way she dressed, you could tell she was a fortune teller of sorts. You have seen her kind of people many times in Westeros, and most of those people were nothing but low-life scammers. You do not think you have ever met a legitimate fortune teller, who did not demand ridiculous prizes after each reading. There was, of course, Alessandra, but she was mostly focused on witchcraft and draining all the wealth and power she could extract from the men who fell prey to her seductive charm. 

You also felt oddly intrigued by the woman, like there was something different about her than all the other preaching fortune tellers you have seen. Her prize board was also strange. They were no cheaper, but they were not so expensive than what most fortune tellers would demand after their reading. 

You shouldn't have considered giving her a chance and seeing if she was a legitimate fortune teller and not just another scammer, but your curiosity was being tugged toward her, so you decided to give in and approach her. You did have enough money for the cheapest reading, which involved reading through animal bones. 

“Come around! Come get your future told!” the woman continued calling until you finally reached her and gained her attention. 

"Hello," you greeted. 

"Oh! Hello, my dear! Would you like to hear about your future?" the woman questioned enthusiastically with a wide grin. 

“I got curious, so yes, but I only want the bone reading. I don't have any more money than that” you explained. 

“Oh, that is fine. Come inside,” the woman smiled and motioned you to follow her inside the tent. 

After walking inside, you were quickly taken off guard by the overpowering smell of incense in the air. It was so strong and thick that you coughed and had to brush the smoke away from getting into your nose and eyes. Looking around the inside of the tent, which was illuminated by several candles, you noticed oddities such as crystals, mirrors, pillows, and strange trinkets hanging from the ceiling, decorating the space. It created an atmospheric and promising ambiance.

The woman led you to a table that was covered with purple fabric. “Sit down. Sit down, and excuse the strong incense. I made a mistake picking the strongest one, and I don’t really have the option to change it to something else,” she grinned as you took your seat on the table while the woman sat on the other side. 

“Now, so we can get started. We need to start with a palm reading,” the woman grinned. 

You looked at her skeptically. 

“Oh, don’t worry. The palm reading is free of charge. To understand the glimpses of the future, we first need to understand the past,” she said as you then handed your hand toward her. 

The woman grabbed your hand and began tracing the lines on your palm with her fingers. It was a gentle touch, and she kept her eyes closed while nodding and murmuring something under her breath.

“Yes… soft yet not invisible callouses. It seems you enjoy heavy work, but your palm is quite rough, and these old cuts… I really recommend you start using creams to keep your hands moisturized, my dear. Oh, I see, this hand has held many weapons,” she exclaimed, her tone surprised. You stared at her with growing interest.

“I see, you had left home because of a danger to a loved one, am I right?” she questioned. 

“Correct…” you nodded. 

“And what else… Oh!” the woman suddenly snapped her eyes open and fixed her gaze on you. You tensed up as she held a frightened expression on her face. Your mind started to spiral, fearing if she was truly seeing into your past.

“You have quite a past, my dear,” she released your hand. You stared at her anxiously, waiting for what she was going to say next.

"But, you have certainly changed! You've laid down the cold mask and the whispering steel. I must say, you have truly set yourself on the path to redemption. Not many are willing or able to do that," she smiled, her hands clasped together, though you could still sense her tension and anxiety around you.

“How… How about we get started with the bone reading, my fair lady? Sometimes there are things that are better left untold,” the woman said as she picked up a box beneath the table. 

“Indeed…” you uttered as she then opened the box and allowed small bones of animals to fall to the table. 

The woman then looked at you with a smile. “Pick three bones, and you shall present three questions,” she said, clapping her hands together. "Three questions and I shall reveal the future," she said as you then set your eyes on the bones in front of you. 

Looking through the table, you picked up a small fang, a small frail bone, and a bone that seemed to be part of a ribcage of sorts. You set the three bones in front of you in a line then waited for the woman to do her reading. 

The woman suddenly began whispering something under her breath, she cleaned the rest of the bones away and then picked up a candle beside the three bones you picked. She then dropped down another bone attached to a string on her finger and began tangling it above the bones.

"Now tell me. What is your first question?" the woman asked. 

"I have a little brother..." you started. "I wish to know if he will live a good life?" you asked. 

"You have picked a fang of a wolf and a bone from the wing of a bird. Your brother's journey will be long and arduous, but he shall find peace and joy even in the darkest times. Love will find him at the age of eighteen, and his children shall bear crowns of silver," she explained while still tangling the bone.

The thought of Aelon having children made you smile. "That is good to hear," you said. 

"What is your second question?" The woman asked. 

You thought for a moment but nothing sensible came to mind. 

"Will my and my friends' next sale be a good one?" you asked. 

"Yes and you shall collect enough cold to feed well and buy the leather for the saddle you need," she said, making you confused and surprised, since you already bought most material for the saddle, including the leather. 

"What is your last question?" The woman asked. 

You thought about it. "Will our lives be a peaceful one?" you asked. 

The woman suddenly gasped, and the movement of the bone became more erratic. You tensed as the candle on the table began flickering, casting dancing shadows around the tent. Even the other candles began to act strangely, and it felt as if all the incense had suddenly left the tent, making it easier to breathe but adding an eerie atmosphere to the air.

"No… No!" the woman shook her head. 

"Your peaceful life will come to an end when the birds flee forever south and the blue banner of the king is set ablaze," she began. "Tears unnumbered will be shed, and darkness will pursue you wherever you and your family may go, preying upon your wings and fire," she exclaimed.

"The whispering steel shall take its place upon your hand once more, and the war over the lordship of the sky and flame shall begin,” she said ominously. 

Shivers ran down your spine as you stared at the woman. The flickering of the candles stopped and the woman seemed to have come back to her senses. 

You two stared at each other for a moment, and the expression on the woman’s face turned frightened and frantic.

"Oh dear..." she uttered. "I'm sorry. You know what, this session shall be free of charge. I need to start packing. You should go home" She suddenly stood up and began cleaning her tent. 

“Is everything alright?” you asked as you stood up. 

“All is fine! All is fine! I just need to start leaving early, to the southern lands or perhaps return to my homeland in the east,” she mumbled, then turned toward you. “Things are going to undergo a drastic change in three years. I recommend that you spend as much time as possible with your family. You never know when you'll be blessed with such an opportunity again,” she said, gently pushing you out of her tent.

“I wish you the best of luck. Stay vigilant of the signs if you notice things are not going well, though I’m certain you’re more than capable. Your father did not raise you to be ignorant,” she said as you walked out. 

“How did you…?” you started. 

“No time to waste! Goodbye!” the woman closed the veils to her tent and you were left outside. 

You stood there dumbfounded for a moment, trying to progress what just happened. Your skin felt scattered with goosebumps as you could tell that woman was not pretending or putting on a show. She was genuinely frightened by something. 

Unable to determine if the woman was being a lunatic or not, you decided to let it be and returned to your village, feeling that you had seen enough for the day.

Upon returning to the village, you found Maedhros and Aelon engrossed in a deep conversation. They did not notice your arrival till your horse released a short whinny, catching their attention. 

“It seems you two are having fun,” you said as you swung your leg over the saddle. Maedhros stood up and walked over to you. 

“Yeah, it's been pretty fun. I learned quite a lot today. How about you?” Aelon asked as Maedhros offered his hand to you before you jumped off the saddle. 

You accepted and he helped you down without any issues. 

“Well, I must say that I had a peculiar experience with a fortune teller, and I’m not entirely sure if the woman was pretending or not, “ you explained as Maedhros held on to the horse for you. 

“Hopefully, you did not fall victim. Those people are quite crafty when it comes to scamming people off their money, “ Maedhros stated. 

“I don’t think so. The woman looked at me like I was Morgoth after the reading and then pushed me out without taking the money,” you replied. 

“Well, that is strange, but don’t take them too seriously,” Maedhros said as you began taking the bags off the saddle. 

Eweniel suddenly appeared. “Hey, Ae! Rodrick’s mom baked treats and wanted him to share them with us. Do you want to come?” she asked. 

“Oh— Can I go?” Aelon looked at you. “Go for it, but be back before nightfall,” you said as he then left with Eweniel. 

You smiled, and Maedhros helped you pick the things. Maedhros looked at you. 

“(Name). Can I ask you something?” he started. 

“Sure. What is it?” you looked back at him. 

"When you were gone, Aelon and I had a discussion, and I heard that he was kidnapped by a vampire some months ago,” he started. 

"Yes. It happened a few months ago, a month before we met you," you answered.

"The vampire had cloaked itself and then lured Aelon and one of his friends into the woods with enchanted music, and took them away. We found out it was a vampire because a friend of ours tried to stop the creature from taking Aelon and nearly died for it,” you explained. 

“I was away at the time, and when I heard the news, I tried to track the creature down, but it was careful not to leave any traces,” you sighed and leaned against your horse. 

“I didn’t know what to do. There was this feeling of numbness and helplessness when I scoured through the woods and yet still couldn’t find anything,” you stated, recalling the moment when you heard the news.

"Then one day, Aelon returned with Samuel, telling us they had escaped. I was relieved, but I still sometimes feel that sense of helplessness and anxiety that if I look away, he might be taken again,” you confessed. "Especially all the things Aelon told me about what happened. He still has bad dreams about it, and I am not certain how to help him," 

Maedhros looked at you softly. "Talk to him about it... comfort him when you can and try to make him open up, feel safe again," he explained. "His mind needs reassurance that he is safe and he is away from harm," he added. 

"Is that what I need to do?" you asked. 

"It will help him. That's what he needs," Maedhros answered. 

"He is a good kid. He will learn to overcome his fears on his own eventually, but once he needs comfort the most. Don't hesitate," he said. 

"Well... he overcame his fear of turtles and dared to chase after an orc with it," you said with a smile. "He is indeed brave," Maedhros returned the smile. 

He then looked at you. "And your fear for his safety is not unjust," he said. 

“He will eventually have to leave the nest, but with all the things and skills we teach him, he will be able to take care of himself,” he explained.

You sighed, feeling somewhat comforted by the words. “You’re right. Once he has learned everything, I can put my mind at ease,” you said. “I once thought I was a terrible older sister since I left home to stay out of trouble, yet trouble still finds us, sometimes putting Aelon in danger,” you stated. 

“We live in difficult times, so troubles are inevitable. It’s just the way of living. It does not make you a terrible sister,” Maedhros said. “If you were terrible, then there would be a strain in the relationship, but all I see is a little boy who admires and wants to prove himself capable like you, and you, who cares for his safety,” he said. Something warm bloomed within your chest after hearing his words.

“I do hope he will grow up to be capable, but I hope he will become his own person,” you said. 

“Thank you, Nelyo. Your words really put those thoughts away,” you said. “You welcome. raising a sibling is not an easy task, but you have done well,” he said, helping you carry the things to your house. “Well, I’m grateful I came to this village because here I received all the help I needed,” you said as the sun set in the distance.

Taglist: @natchayaphorn​ @kimnamnu@thatrandomidiot182 @springfountain

[blitzarthespaceidiot]

Kauhara - Meet The Kingdoms

Azartsik Kingdom

Part 1 - Basic Information

Flag & Map

Their People

The Azartsik Kingdom is home of the Azartsik race, dragons and drakes known for their mostly crepuscular to nocturnal lifestyle, their developed sense of sight which allows them to see without issue in the dark and (for their dragons only) their speed and mobility during flight, being by far the best on aerial movement out of the other races in Kauhara.

The Azartsik are usually around 9'8"ft tall for the males and 9'2" for the females. Coloration-wise they tend to have slightly dark-toned scales, colors like blue, red and magenta (all in dark tones) are common. It is to note that rarely will these scales lack hue and be completely black or some shade of dark gray. Their horns are black and will always be pointing straight away without any curving.

The Azartsik are omnivores leaning towards meat. While they like their meats and other animal products and tend to favor them, they wouldn't mind sharing their plate with a few greens if they'd like to.

Weather, Climate and Biomes

If you visit the Azartsik Kingdom, you will be greeted with generally cold climate, you are in the mountains after all. Snowfall is more than likely to fall during the colder months of the year.

If you are south near the Azartsik-Sukkan border, you will find more bearable weather, do note however that storms can be quite common here, rain tends to occur frequently in the intermission months between the colder and warmer months of the year. Land is at its best for growing around these times.

The Azartsik's mountain range is covered in its majority with montane coniferous forests. Further south at the Sukkan border you will find more even terrain with a few grasslands and shrublands, these eventually transition into the arid barrens at the Sukki Plateau.

Their Culture and Society

The Azartsik's culture tends to revolve around the stars above, since the days of their kingdom's dawn they have not taken an eye off of them. Dedicated festivities to these exist, usually taking place around the dates where these signal the arrival of growing seasons, where the land and weather allows for the vest conditions to cultivate their foods.

Additional, non-scheduled celebrations include those taking place after certain natural astronomical events like the passing of a great comet, an eclipse taking place (wether its a solar or lunar eclipse does not matter) or a conjuction between between various celestial bodies. The magnitude of these celebrations vary depending on the event that took place.

In recent years, the Azartsik Kingdom was met with a large influx of foreigners setting down in their land. While initially these foreigners were not welcomed by their people due to past historical matters with other kingdoms, they quickly began to grow used to these arrivals and let them stay, allowing the Azartsik kingdom to become a central hub of sorts for Kauhara.

Their Economy

The Azartsik's economy is among the strongest in Kauhara. This is product of a treaty between them, the neighbouring Sukkan Kingdom and the nearby Realm of Azukaiya. This treaty is of economic nature, however it does also include a few defense agreements.

Additionally, as mentioned before, Azartsik's influx of foreign dragons and drakes from different kingdoms turned the Azartsik Kingdom into a central hub. One of the benefits that came to Azartsik with this event is the increase in trading as well as the exchange of cultures between the Azartsik and other kingdoms, allowing for new trade routes to be implemented between kingdoms and boosting the Azartsik's economy significantly. This time period is known as the Azartsik Golden Age.

They have strong mining industry comparable with the Berhazan Kingdom and Sukkan Kingdom's. In addition to that, they have a good agricultural sector, focusing majorily on crops like roots and livestock like goats and cattle.

[star--nymph]

@plisuu: Conversations at the Edge of Everything sounds intense 👀

Ohohoho boy, it is! So Conversations at the Edge of Everything is my exploration of death in the FF7 universe and the relationship between Sephiroth and Aerith (because I truly believe it's the biggest dropped ball in the series). I don't know if I ship them romantically, especially in this, I just want to throw them in the same room and see what they do.

I also started writing it because I was genuinely done with how Aerith is depicted in the series after the OG and I want to see this woman snap. I want to see her go ape shit.

I already wrote chapter 1 here (which I love the descriptions in, by the way. I think it's some of my best work) and the WIP is for chapter 2:

Those souls that touched down in her garden after a wary life would be greeted with sunlight and the scent of flowers. Before they would reach the porch, she would fling the doors open and come to them in a flurry of skirts, basket in one hand and a cool drink in the other. She’d sit them down at a table with a full meal and there they would lay out the expense of their life, long or short, contented or sorrowful, and they wouldn’t realize until the end that at some point, Aerith had weaved flowers into their hair. She listened to a lot of stories there, at her mother’s table, with tea in between them that was always steaming warm, even when she told them “Take a breather and have some before it gets cold”. It was her favorite part of this new…life. The world she only caught glimpses of unraveled itself in its people, and once their glassy eyes came into focus and they no longer saw Meteor ripping through a red sky like a knife through soft, bleeding flesh—oh, the things they told her. Of the things they lost, loved, even hated sometimes. School trips, late nights, giving birth, attending a funeral, walking down the beach, scaling mountains, dinner with their lover’s parents, failed tests, animals they found and tended too, steamy honeymoons, getting to work late, fighting one hundred fiends to see the light of day, their first and last snowfall, and every other facade that bounced off the ever turning prism of Gaia. She’d lay her head down her arms and tell them to go on until they emptied themselves of their memories and emotions. Until they were satisfied and realized, on some level, this was it. It was over. The final word on the final page of their book. Sometimes, there were tears when this happened, other times there was rage. Most of the time, Aerith noted, they were just confused. Humans understood the concept of death in a roundabout way, but not really the conclusion part. The idea of their existence just stopping. No tomorrow or next week or next month or next years; there wasn’t even a next second. That hazy cloud would come back over their mind and listlessly they would look around, putting together that nothing here was real, just constructed for their comfort. They turned those eyes, which were twinkling with the Lifestream’s energy, to her and she wondered if they saw her sitting there or something entirely different. Sometimes they reached for her to see if she was tangible; when their hand touched hers, she would hold it gently and smile ruefully. “That’s it?” They’d ask. “It’s over? What am I supposed to do now?” Aerith would tilt her head to the side, never sure the best way to answer just a lofty question, and then would just go with her gut, “Nothing, I guess. There’s nothing else to do but go.” The soul would ripple from one form to another, shifting and spinning between time periods in their lives. When they opened their mouth, they’d asked with a child’s voice and a child’s uncertain eyes, “Go? Go where?” “Back to the Lifestream, where we started. I know it doesn’t make sense, but it’s where you and I belong. Everyone belongs there, one way or another—and it’s where all stories end. Besides, aren’t you tired now? You talked for a long time. Maybe a hundred years!” “…Will…will I feel anything…or will I…even be anything?” “You will. You’ll be something different, something the Planet only knows. And where you go, whatever you become, everyone will be with you. You won’t be alone.” “And you? Will you be there?” “…in a way, yeah. I’ll be here, I’ll be there, and I’ll never be far.” “…okay.” “Okay?” “It’s like you said…I am tired—and-and maybe I want to be something new.”

[mayuichi]

“Come on, I'm sure that day isn't lost yet!„

Dehya x Reader. No warning!

note: im sick when i write this, feeling like someone is pressing my ribcage and it makes it painful and hard to breath so, pls apologise if this fic isnt as good as i wish it was..

Official art by Hoyoverse!

It was your first Christmas together, and her first true vacation too. She has been a few times in the city and the forest, but never stayed for too long there beside for work. Yet to make you happy, she accepted to spend her vacation at your house. It's nice to always have her around the place.

Winter is slowly taking its place, the weather getting colder day by day. Every time you two would take a stroll around, you'd have to force Dehya to put a coat on. Poor girl is too used to the heat of the desert now, isn't she?

Holding hands in the grand bazaar, you look around to see if there wouldn't be anything interesting. However, there isn't. Sighing in defeat, you feel your girlfriend squeezing your hand tighter. “Come on, I'm sure that day isn't lost yet! Why don't we go around the forest? I'm sure the scenery will make it worth it.„

You can't hold in the tiny smile she made you have. Leading the way, she pulls you with her to the city's exit. That sort of runaway snatches you a laugh. How could it not? Just being with Dehya bring you so much joy.

She makes you laugh, smile, cry, upset, worried, anything! You just love her so much. And so does she. She turns around to face you, a bright smile adorning her face. “So, any plan for tonight?„ you shake your head.

Coming to a stop, even probably lost in that dense forest, you look at one another. There's no plan, no reason to make one. It's just all sudden, like it can only be. So she takes back your hand, holding it tight and bringing you closer to her.

Without uttering a word, you two walk in the forest, listening to the soft wind. Almost if not any animal are here. It's too cold for them to stay around.

Feeling something cold fall on your nose, you stop in your track, glancing up to the sky. It's cloudy. And even...

“...Snow?„ Dehya whispers beside you. Your gaze averts on her, only to see her eyes... Sparkling. “Dehya?„ you breath out way too silently for her to hear you.

She reaches out her gloved hands, feeling the cold snowflakes on her palms. A childish grin appeared on her face. “Dehya? What's going on?„

You're confused. So confused. Why is she so amazed by mere snow? Could it be... “Is it the first time you see snow?„ you step closer, gently resting your hand on her forearm.

She doesn't even look at you, she just nods. She has been so used to the desert she hasn't even see snowfall? Or perhaps she did, when she was very young.

Sensing her joy, you just can't help it. The popular mercenary she is, always seeming so serious... You wrap your arms around her, resting your head on her side. She sighs softly, one of her arm sliding to wrap around your shoulders.

“... And what's the best of it is... You're with me right now. On the first snowfall of the year, and the first snow I truly see and touch.„ she loves you, oh so much. She is not one to hide her feelings when you're together. She doesn't show you off either, she'd rather hide that relationship.

Not because of shame, but out of fear. What would she do if they target you just because you're dating her? She'd hate herself for not protecting you. She needs to let you be safe. She'd do anything in her power to assure you a beautiful life, she couldn't let herself be the reason for it to be a nightmare.

Your heart fills with warmth, but your skin... “By the way, honey. We should get home. Your skin is so cold, you might freeze.„ she pushes you a little, just so you'd get her message. It's true, it's cold there.

So you reach your house and lock yourself in. Cuddling under the blankets, you both read a book. In fact, the book interests neither of you, all it matters is that you're together.

And by the time night arrives, there's already so much snow. So much that... She just has to. She leaves your side, making you confused and babblering a mess, especially when you see her put her coat on.

You follow her quick, but when she opens the door and go out... She just takes a handful of snow. You blink once, twice, thrice. What is she fucking doing..? She glances at you, at your tilted head, only to smirk and throws the snow at your face.

You gasp and step back. But it's fast when you pull on your coat and shoes to run to her and push her in the snow with you. Bursting in laughter, she gets up and helps you. She then gestures to you to come, “Baby, do you think we could build a snowman?„

You chuckle quietly, taking handful of snow to form a ball in your hands. “Of course we can.„ next thing you know is that it's already been half an hour and you're in the snow finishing your snowman.

Dehya has decided it belonged right next to your home, as a somehow decor. Finally finished, you take a look at the snowman... Only to feel yourself pulled up in the air, scooped by Dehya's strong arms.

“Come on, let's get back inside. I'll make you a hot chocolate and we'll sleep. We can do much more snowman in the daylight tomorrow!„

She makes you sit in the couch, locking the door and making the both of you a hot chocolate. Now only gossiping about what was currently happening around the town and the Akademiya.

It's an hour after that you start yawning, and get changed to be tucked in bed. Dehya is definitely wanting to take the best care of you. She cuddles with you, watching you falling asleep. The whole time you were awake, she was stroking your hair and talking in the softest voice she could.

“That day... hasn't been lost for sure... I love you, sweet thing.„

/ᐠ - ˕ •マ Ⳋ mayuichi's property. do not repost, copy or translate without permission.