#neither able to bear the thought of being seen as less in the eyes of the other

[terribleoldwhitemen]

endeavour || raga

[wordbunch]

healer's healer [Elrond x reader]

a/n: WELL! look at that. the people want ROP Elrond and of course I give them Elrond ♡ it's short but bear with me - I haven't done creative writing in ages and I feel very rusty, but he deserves good things. 🥹

I didn't watch the S2 trailer bc I never do that, but I did see screenshots of baby El after some battle 😭😭😭 so this vaguely goes off of that. Enjoy! 💞

Your breath hitched in your throat as you hurried down the spiraling staircase from your chambers, having noticed a familiar (and beloved) figure on the horizon. Though he was approaching uncharacteristically slowly, without mistake it was your spouse in the distance, returning from his latest task along with his companions. As fast as your legs carried you, you ran out to meet them - well, Elrond - and your heart clenched at his disheveled and evidently injured state. Immediately you scurried to the horse he was on, all drawn into himself and with scars etched into his handsome face.

“Meleth nín,” you breathed out, helping him down as gently as you could muster. Elrond clung onto you as soon as you came in contact, as he held one arm protectively over his middle.

“Beloved,” he replied, fatigue dripping from his words. “I have returned to you… as promised.” His attempt at a soft smile turned into a painful grimace as you slowly walked to somewhere he could at least sit down comfortably. You helped lower him onto the nearest settee you could find and began anxiously examining his wounded form.

“I knew you would keep your promise, always,” you whispered to him, cradling his face in your hands with a feathery touch. The way he was looking at you was shaking you to the bone - in his storm-colored eyes you could see an echo of many a thing he had seen, found, and been through, and you could all but hear your heart crack. “Breathe,” you attempted to soothe him. “Where does it hurt?”

“Everywhere,” he winced, meeting your eyes once again, shakily reaching for your hand laid across his scarred cheek. It was easy to notice his breaths were heavy and uneven. “I love you,” he added hastily, stopping your thoughts in their tracks, as if he was afraid he wouldn’t get many more chances to lavish you in his feelings. “I-I did not know whether… whether I would have another opportunity t-to… tell you that… one more time.”

“My brightest star,” you breathed out, leaning your forehead against his and reveling in his presence after the agonizing weeks of uncertainty. Elrond soaked in your warmth and softly nudged his nose against yours. “We will not speak of such things, ever. You are home now, you are safe, and I am here.  We are going to get you healed, I promise. Neither of us is going anywhere, ever” 

“Until the whole Middle-earth is no more than a distant memory,” he quietly echoed the vows you had exchanged quite a few moons ago. You were hoping you could actually sense, and not that you were just deceiving yourself, that he was beginning to feel more at ease (if not less in pain) only through being in your arms once again.

“Meleth nín,” you inched back only slightly to look at his state, “do you think you could be strong enough to get up with me and walk to our chambers? I will hold you the whole time,” you squeezed his chilly hands in encouragement, eliciting a subtle nod from your spouse. “Then we will make you comfortable, warm, and I will do everything in my power to heal you. From the things you are able to tell me, just as much as from the things you cannot speak of yet.”

Immediately his arm was around your shoulders as he reluctantly rose to his feet. You heard him breathe through his teeth, but you knew he could do it. He was as strong as he was kind, and you were more than willing to bring back his joyous laugh and twinkling eyes.

“How strong have you gotten in these weeks, my dove,” he quipped, doing his best to lighten the somber atmosphere. “I have got a true elven warrior by my side.”

“I have only tried to match you, I admit.”

♡

I should try to somehow revamp my taglist too :/

[beirarowling]

I believe a woman is a human being who belongs to the sex class that produces large gametes. It’s irrelevant whether or not her gametes have ever been fertilised, whether or not she’s carried a baby to term, irrelevant if she was born with a rare difference of sexual development that makes neither of the above possible, or if she’s aged beyond being able to produce viable eggs. She is a woman and just as much a woman as the others.

I don’t believe a woman is more or less of a woman for having sex with men, women, both or not wanting sex at all. I don’t think a woman is more or less of a woman for having a buzz cut and liking suits and ties, or wearing stilettos and mini dresses, for being black, white or brown, for being six feet tall or a little person, for being kind or cruel, angry or sad, loud or retiring. She isn't more of a woman for featuring in Playboy or being a surrendered wife, nor less of a woman for designing space rockets or taking up boxing. What makes her a woman is the fact of being born in a body that, assuming nothing has gone wrong in her physical development (which, as stated above, still doesn't stop her being a woman), is geared towards producing eggs as opposed to sperm, towards bearing as opposed to begetting children, and irrespective of whether she's done either of those things, or ever wants to.

Womanhood isn't a mystical state of being, nor is it measured by how well one apes sex stereotypes. We are not the creatures either porn or the Bible tell you we are. Femaleness is not, as trans woman Andrea Chu Long wrote, ‘an open mouth, an expectant asshole, blank, blank eyes,’ nor are we God’s afterthought, sprung from Adam’s rib.

Women are provably subject to certain experiences because of our female bodies, including different forms of oppression, depending on the cultures in which we live. When trans activists say 'I thought you didn't want to be defined by your biology,' it’s a feeble and transparent attempt at linguistic sleight of hand. Women don't want to be limited, exploited, punished, or subject to other unjust treatment because of their biology, but our being female is indeed defined by our biology. It's one material fact about us, like having freckles or disliking beetroot, neither of which are representative of our entire beings, either. Women have billions of different personalities and life stories, which have nothing to do with our bodies, although we are likely to have had experiences men don't and can't, because we belong to our sex class.

Some people feel strongly that they should have been, or wish to be seen as, the sex class into which they weren't born. Gender dysphoria is a real and very painful condition and I feel nothing but sympathy for anyone who suffers from it. I want them to be free to dress and present themselves however they like and I want them to have exactly the same rights as every other citizen regarding housing, employment and personal safety. I do not, however, believe that surgeries and cross-sex hormones literally turn a person into the opposite sex, nor do I believe in the idea that each of us has a nebulous ‘gender identity’ that may or might not match our sexed bodies. I believe the ideology that preaches those tenets has caused, and continues to cause, very real harm to vulnerable people.

I am strongly against women's and girls' rights and protections being dismantled to accommodate trans-identified men, for the very simple reason that no study has ever demonstrated that trans-identified men don't have exactly the same pattern of criminality as other men, and because, however they identify, men retain their advantages of speed and strength. In other words, I think the safety and rights of girls and women are more important than those men's desire for validation.

J.K. Rowling

[feverishly-kpop]

Seonghwa & Ateez - Wisdom Tooth Extraction

“Hyung, are you sure you’re going to be okay alone?” Between San and Mingi he had been asked that question no less than a dozen times that morning and, every time, he forced himself to smile (if you could even call the way he tried his best to force the edges of his swollen mouth upwards a smile) and nod, doing his best to convince them that he’d be just fine.

He understood why they were worried. Seonghwa would feel the same way if the shoe was on the other foot. He wouldn’t want to leave any of his dongsaengs home alone the day after they had their wisdom teeth pulled. But they had a job to do today and he didn’t, so Seonghwa put on his best face in order to convince San and Mingi that there was nothing to worry about. Frankly, with the amount of pain he was in, he was pretty set on taking one of the pain tablets that he’d been sent home from the surgeon’s office with and passing out for the day. With any luck his members would be home by the time he woke up again.

Seonghwa waited until he heard the front door close before getting out of bed to grab himself some ice packs, water, and pain tablets. The procedure itself hasn’t been so bad and he had spent most of the prior evening sleeping off the remaining anesthesia but the pain that had kicked in that morning was no joke. Of course he didn’t want San and Mingi to know how much pain he was in. It would only worry them more than they already were, a thought that Seonghwa simply couldn’t bear. But now that they were gone he allowed his mask to fall as he collapsed back in bed, already feeling the effects of the strong pain medication that left him feeling dizzy and even more exhausted than he already was.

*~*~*~*~*~

Waking up shivering and covered in sweat hadn’t been part of Seonghwa’s plans for the day. He recalled nursing Yunho and Wooyoung through mild fevers after their wisdom teeth extractions but neither of them had gotten this sick at any point of their recovery.

Seongwha’s ears rang as he sat up, the sudden movement creating a painful pressure that he hadn’t felt while lying down. A few deep breaths helped to silence the ringing but did nothing to dull the pain.

Getting to his feet was no small feat either. After a few attempts that ended with dizzy spells which had him sitting back down on the edge of his bed, Seonghwa finally managed to stand up, leaning heavily against the wall for support. The medication that had so quickly lulled him to sleep now had him feeling woozy and hardly able to see straight.

He finally made his way to the washroom where he caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror which sent a shutter down his spine. On top of his jaw being swollen his eyes were bloodshot and his cheeks were brightly flushed. After a few moments of rifling through the medicine cabinet Seonghwa found their thermometer and shoved it under him arm, knowing that there was no way he’d be able to keep it under his tongue given how inflamed and tender the inside of his mouth was. A few quick beeps revealed a reading of 39.4°, more than a full degree higher than he had seen either Yunho or Wooyoung run following their procedures.

As much as he wanted to grab some fresh ice, Seonghwa’s body had other plans. Using the rest of his energy he slowly wandered back to bed, pulling his comforter up to his chin before grabbing his phone. The brightness made his eyes ache as he gave consideration to his next move. He typed out a message to Hongjoong:

“Please leave the studio, I’m sick.”

That absolutely wouldn’t do. Hongjoong was busy and couldn’t afford to leave work for something as trivial as this.

After deleting that message he pulled up his group chat with San and Mingi:

“Hey sorry to bother you guys but I’m not feeling so well, any chance one of you could come home?”

No, not that either. Seonghwa couldn’t bear the thought of worrying them. And with that he locked his phone and set it aside, drifting off into a fever induced sleep.

*~*~*~*~*~

When Seonghwa woke up again he knew two things - he was in some serious pain and he was no longer alone.

He struggled to open his eyes, trying to take in what was going on around him before he was jolted by a pair of ice packs being held against his swollen jaw and another being placed over his forehead. The sudden cold sent his eyes flying open, revealing San perched at the side of his bed, an apologetic look crossing his face.

“I’m sorry, hyung” San said softly as he placed a hand on the side of Seonghwa’s neck, concerned about the heat emanating from his skin. “What happened while we were gone? You’re really not doing well, are you?”

Seonghwa only shrugged slightly before closing his eyes. The room was too bright. The ice was too cold. His jaw was too sore. It was all too much.

San grew quiet, allowing his hyung a moment of rest, but Seonghwa could now hear Mingi’s voice coming from outside his door.

“No, hyung, this isn’t the same as with Yunho and Wooyoung. They ran a little temperature. He’s burning up.”

Mingi had called Hongjoong.

Shit.

Seonghwa let out a soft whine and reached for the ice pack on his forehead, throwing it aside before trying to sit up. San promptly jumped into action, placing a soft hand on Seonghwa’s chest to keep him down.

“What’s wrong?” San asked as he laid the ice pack back over Seonghwa’s forehead and adjusted the ones on his jaw.

“Don’t bother Joong” Seonghwa managed to croak out, the words difficult to produce between his sore throat and jaw.

“He needs to know what’s going on. You’re really sick” San replied, trying his best to settle Seonghwa down.

Seonghwa sighed, knowing that San was right, but it didn’t make him feel any better. He closed his eyes again, wanting nothing more than to fall asleep and for the whole ordeal to be over once he woke up again.

*~*~*~*~*~

His light sleep was interrupted by the sound of his door opening again, this time revealing Hongjoong who only needed to take one look at Seonghwa to know that Mingi was right. This wasn’t the slight fever that he had expected to find when he arrived. If his bright red cheeks and the sheen of sweat covering his face and neck were anything to go off of, Seonghwa was burning up.

Seonghwa cracked his eyes open and was overcome by a mixture of relief that Hongjoong had arrived but also guilt for disturbing him.

“Sorry…” Seonghwa mumbled with a visible wince. The pain medication that he had taken that morning had long since worn off and the pain had returned fully, just adding to Seonghwa’s misery.

“Nothing to be sorry about” Hongjoong said gently as he knelt down next to Seonghwa’s bed. “Can you tell me what hurts?”

“Jaw, ears, throat, head…” Seonghwa’s response would have been nearly impossible for anybody but Hongjoong to understand, but Hongjoong had no problem making out the list of ailments. Turning to San and Mingi who were lingering in the doorway, Hongjoong quickly put them to work, asking Mingi to help Seonghwa sit up in bed while sending San to fetch their thermometer as well as Seonghwa’s pain tablets and a glass of water.

Hongjoong immediately grabbed the thermometer from San before easing Seonghwa out of his shirt. “We’ll get you a clean shirt, you’ve sweated straight through that one” he said softly, which Mingi took as his cue to find something cozy for his hyung to wear. “That’s it” Hongjoong added as he raised Seonghwa’s arm and placed the thermometer underneath. He then helped Seonghwa take another pain tablet, frowning as he realized how difficult it was for him to open his mouth and to swallow. The thermometer beeped as Seonghwa handed the glass to San. Hongjoong frowned at the reading.

“What is it?” Seonghwa asked. Hongjoong sighed before responding - “It’s 39.2°.”

“Yunho and Wooyoung never broke 38.3°. Maybe something is wrong” Seonghwa said, his voice breaking at the end of the statement. It was difficult enough for Hongjoong to see Seonghwa this sick and in so much pain, but now he was working himself up with worry on top of it.

“No, no Hwa. Nothing is wrong. I read through your discharge paperwork and all of this can be normal” Hongjoong responded quickly. “I’m just sorry you got hit with all of these side effects at once.”

After putting Seonghwa’s mind somewhat more at ease, Hongjoong and Mingi helped him into a soft sweater and got him back to sleep.

*~*~*~*~*~

Seonghwa slept through the rest of the evening and into the night without waking until the following morning at the sound of San’s alarm. Within minutes of waking San made his way to his hyung’s room, relieved to find him looking much healthier than he had the night before.

“Morning Hwa-hyung, how are you feeling?” Seonghwa startled for a moment, not having noticed that San had entered his room as he scrolled aimlessly through Instagram.

“A lot better. Achy, but getting better” he responded.

“We’ve got practice today but please, hyung, text somebody if you start feeling unwell again. It was scary coming home and finding you…” San wasn’t sure how to finish his thought as his mind drifted back to the feverish, shivering form of his hyung that he had returned home to after yesterday’s practice. “Just don’t do that again, okay?”

Seonghwa nodded as San turned to leave and get ready for the day. Just before he closed the door, San added one last thought. “I know you always want to take care of us, hyung. But, please, let us take care of you sometimes. Just because you’re the oldest hyung doesn’t mean you can’t ask for help. We all love you.”

Seonghwa smiled at that. San could always be counted on to see what was bothering any of the members, often before they knew themselves.

“I love you too, Sannie” Seonghwa replied, the words coming a little easier today as the swelling in his jaw went down. “Have a good day at practice. I’ll let you know if I need anything, I promise.”

[cielenruine]

There he is.

Lambert had already figured that the other man had been sent to one of the other islands after failing to find him among the others busy with their own given objectives. Part of him felt relief at that- one less person to worry about, even though Matthias’ absence didn’t exactly equate to peace as a certain someone had succeeded in putting him through a quick moment of hell. At the same time however, Lambert also found himself missing the other man’s presence a bit.

Because in the end, regardless of what happens, his heart still saw him as a friend. A friend that was once close and dear, one he could trust with his life.

But Lambert hadn’t sought him for another session of bickering, neither for casual chatting or to talk about the games he had been subjected to (why are there remnants of makeup on his face?). It had been done in a rush as the conversation- or rather, argument he had with Anselma was starting to set in like slowly dipping one’s feet in freezing water. The fact that they had been apparently married, that Lambert hid her from the world to the point of picking her another name, another confirmation that indeed he seemed to belong to the Blaiddyd family and that Dimitri was supposedly his son.

All of them things that at that moment Lambert purposefully cast aside as his focus laid on ensuring Bernadetta’s wellbeing and trying to get Anselma to stop, but that now weighed more and more on his mind and it felt unbearable.

It was how he found himself coming to Matthias. He just did automatically, his brain making choices and he himself just accepted. The professor’s eyes looked visibly strained with a mixture of stress, fatigue and concern. “Matthias.”

“...that woman, Anselma. What is the deal with her?”

He was sure he hadn't endured that much, not compared to the other "tasks "games" that had been presented before them. Eating cake that was too sweet and being attacked by fauna he couldn't hit back felt more like a training session than it did a true battle. Part of him had been glad that he didn't have to share the table with the man who he'd unceremoniously thrown his thoughts at. He had already seen part of the fruit born by that endeavor...but now he had to deal with the full repercussions of such a thing. Their team was not worse for wear, all of them still remained and he knew now that he had people whom he could truly count on if the situation called for it...it gave him leeway, room to deal with this ever encroaching problem that would have to be faced sooner or later. And sooner it had been divinated. Matthias took a deep breath and grabbed Lambert by the arm, walking him out of the cabin and off to an area of the beach where even should prying eyes gaze upon them, ears would simply catch the sound of waves. He had looked at the man for a moment. Then another...and another until he found himself staring. What should I say? What would ease the burden you already bear? How much have you recalled about yourself and all you were? Plagued by his thoughts, all he can see to do is embrace the man in a tight hug. "She was a woman who sought refuge under you, on the request of Cornelia, your court mage. I cannot tell you what it was you felt for her or why, but you took her as your consort" Concubine wasn't the word but neither was consort. Wife was all there was...and yet Matthias not dare call her that...no officiation would change the fact that he'd never be able to see Anselma as having been that. "She too was thought to have perished with you when you passed...yet in all of tolling, all our investigation and search...nary a scratch turned up on her carriage, nay not even a scrap of her clothing left at the scene. Some were hopeful...she was simply taken for ransom, used as a pawn against us who were left...some tool to try and make us put down arms but that too never came to pass..." He takes a step back, but his hands, they linger and rest on Lambert's shoulders. "Stay away from her. She only means to cause you more sorrow than she has to begin with. I've not the proof to try her by our laws...but I fear she had a hand in what happened to you, even if it was as simple as letting them know when it was you would be resting. Dimitri-" For the first time in a while he feels his stomach turn, maybe it had been that horridly acrid cake from earlier or maybe it was the recalling of just the state that poor child had been in when he had first seen him but it was only by the Goddess's good graces that he could force it down and look at Lambert. "If the goddess were anymore cruel, both of you would have been stolen from us that day. That she only negotiated herself...not even a guarantee of safety for the boy, that is enough incrimination for me." And then a hand over his heart, a fire that had tempered itself suddenly blazed as he placed a hand over his heart. "For now I will deal with her...just be wary Lambert...I couldn't stand to lose you again because you fell for someone like that again."

[igratecheeseonbenedictcheekbones]

WIP Wednesday

I’ve been working on this for a while and actually it’s the first time posting a fic in the untamed fandom or any fandom. Hope you like it! Lan Xichen and Wei Wuxian have a long overdue conversation.

____

“You don’t like me very much do you, Xichen-ge?” Wei Ying asked.

Surprise rippled across Lan Xichen’s body and he turned newly alert eyes on Wei Wuxian. It was the first real emotion Wei Wuxian had ever seen him express towards him/since he entered his seclusion.

“Why would you say that? You are a guest in my home, husband to my brother, I care for you a great deal.”

Wei Wuxian laughed, “A very diplomatic deflection, Xichen-ge.”

Lan Xichen gave no response and continued to stare at him intently.

“‘A guest in your home, a husband to your brother’,” Wei Wuxian repeated with a bitter smile, “those are all descriptions of obligations, Xichen-ge, delineators of behaviour. None of that tells me how you feel about me personally or my marriage to Lan Zhan.”

Lan Xichen was still for a long moment, gaze piercing through Wei Wuxian like he could see into the very core of him, then, almost as if it were never there, an imperceptible line of tension in his shoulders eased. “Truly your skills of perception are remarkable, Wei-gongzi. It’s been a very long time since someone has caught me in a lie, ” he said, placid expression still on his face as he brought the cup to his lips, “You’re right, I’m not very fond of you.”

It was soft as blows went. After all this was not news to Wei Wuxian. He knew, of course, he knew. He saw the way Lan Xichen’s eyes could never seem to settle on him too long, as though he couldn’t bear to look at him, the way his gaze grew colder, more distant whenever it did land on Wei Wuxian, the way the muscle along Lan Zhan’s jaw would tense whenever Lan Xichen addressed him. What had taken Wei Wuxian months to figure out, Lan Zhan had probably known from the beginning. It was because he knew that it had taken so much effort to muster enough courage to confront him like this and yet the confirmation still stung.

“Wanji and Sizhui love you very much and you bring both them great joy. Even the students are very fond of you it seems, your classes have become a crowd favourite or so I am told. So it is my responsibility to see to your comfort here, to ensure that your every need is met. Despite the stark differences between The Cloud Recesses and your Lotus Pier, it is my job to make sure that you can find peace and happiness here so that one day this could be a home to you.” He spoke so gently and earnestly that Wei Wuxian could almost forget what prompted this conversation in the first place. He could almost believe his brother in law held some kind regard for him.

“But personally I don't really care about your needs or your comfort. I care only in so much that they care/your well-being affects the happiness and comfort of those whom I do care about. Your presence here is dictated solely by and is entirely dependent on their love for you, else you would never have been able to step foot on this mountain much less allowed entry into The Cloud Recesses. As for my thoughts on your marriage,” he chuckled faintly, “you are not worthy of my brother nor will you ever be. Had it been my choice, you would never have been chosen for him. But as we both know, Wanji can be quite stubborn when he wants to be and when it comes to you his obstinacy has no limits. So no, Wei Wuxian, I do not like you. Yours is not a presence I am grateful for or rejoice in, your addition to this family is not one I welcome or celebrate, it is one I endure.”

He said all this neither cruelly nor scornfully, just with that same pleasant, inoffensive expression on his face as though they were discussing nothing more important than the weather outside or the taste of his new blend of tea. All the while Wei Wuxian had his fists clenched so tightly where they rested on his thighs, he was in danger of spilling blood on the fabric. He had to be careful, he was wearing his Gusu Lan robes today and if he dirtied them, the stain would never come out.

“Thank you, Xichen-ge, for answering me so honestly.” He was fine. It was not the first time he had been the subject of such disdain. He was used to being disliked by the people he loved and admired, from as early as he could remember. There had been a time when he had very much wanted to be loved by Madam Yu. Long years under her tutelage had taught him the futility of that desire. He was an acquired taste, tolerated and stomached rather than savored. No matter how hard he tried he was always too loud, too annoying, just too much. Nothing he did was ever good enough. Even now, Jiang Cheng…He felt a pain in his chest and his mind skittered away from the thought. It wasn’t a surprise that yet another person he respected and cared for, someone so known for their kind and just nature, someone who Lan Zhan loved so much, also disliked him. It was just a bit harder to withstand, was all.

[flightfoot]

Perspective From Another Timeline

Thanks to my betas @steelblaidd and Izzybusy!

I ADORE @buggachat new Bakery Enemies AU. This idea just kept on swirling through my head, I had to write it! This is set between parts 13 and 14, so after Adrien meets Alya and Nino but before Marinette starts sympathizing with him. AO3

---------

“You okay?”

Alya shook her head, trying to clear it. “I’ll be fine. I’ve weathered worse than that - we both have.”

Nino grinned at her. “True that.”

Alya smiled at him fondly, remembering Heroes Day. It was a bittersweet memory, with her having been turned against Nino and them both being akumatized. 

But they had fought to protect each other as best they could. She’d seen Prime Queen’s footage, how Carapace had struggled to get her to fight against Dark Cupid’s magic, how he’d only given into despair after she’d given into akumatization. 

“What did that blast do to us?” Nino wondered. “Everyone else the akuma blasted just disappeared. Why’re we still here?”

Alya’s brow furrowed. “I dunno… hold on, let me check to see whether any new info on the akuma’s been uploaded.”

Pulling out her phone, she tapped on the Akuma News Alert app.

An error message popped up, telling her that she had no internet connection.

Puzzled, Alya checked her phone’s other settings. 

No wifi - no wifi even recognized, much less connectable - no cell service, no connection to the outside world at all.

She glanced over at Nino. “Hey, you got any signal?”

Taking out his own phone, he quickly checked his connection. He shook his head. “Not a single bar.”

Frowning, Alya looked around. “Maybe all the cell towers were taken out?”

Everything looked intact though, no sign of any destruction at all.

Something else caught Alya’s eye. “Hey Nino, what time should it be?”

Nino blinked. “Well I mean lunch just started so it should be a little past noon-”

He glanced around, noticing the long shadows and the pinkish-orange of the evening sky.

“-which it clearly is not anymore,” he concluded.

Great. “Guess Ladybug and Chat Noir must’ve taken a while to defeat the akuma,” she said, putting her phone away. “Hopefully my parents aren’t too worried. They like me to text them just after an akuma attack, but right now…?” she gestured to her pocket.

“My folks aren’t as worried,” Nino said. “But they still expect me back home before the sun goes down. They’ll be getting nervous soon.”

Alya let out a small sigh. “So much for playing Super Penguino together.”

“Hmmm…” Nino’s eyes gleamed. “You know… it’s not night just yet. And I’m sure my parents would understand if I was a few minutes late because I grabbed a bite to eat.”

Grabbed a bite to eat? What was Nino hinting at…?

Alya looked around at their location more closely.

Wait… that blast seemed to have carried them to that one park, the one near-

Alya grinned. “I think my parents will forgive me for not calling in if I bring them fresh-baked treats from the best bakery in Paris.”

---

*ring ring*

The scent of freshly baked bread wafted through the store. 

Instantly Alya felt her shoulders loosen up, releasing tension she didn’t even know she’d had. There was just something so warm and comforting about the bakery.

Of course, a lot of that was due to the people running it. Good luck finding more friendly, caring people than Marinette’s parents. Sabine often checked up on anyone who seemed to be struggling or upset (and ready to protect them if they were - Alya had seen the video of the time a TV crew decided to invade Marinette’s privacy), and Tom was basically a giant teddy bear in human form.

But neither of them were manning the counter today.

Instead a young woman stared back at them.

A very familiar-looking young woman. 

“Marinette?” Alya asked cautiously.

The woman stared at her for a minute. “Alya?” she finally asked. “What happened to you?” She paled. “Did a new supervillain attack? Is that why you and Nino are younger?”

Huh. Weirdly scared reaction from Marinette. They’d all gotten used to supervillains by now. She’d expect an older Marinette to take them in stride even more than the current Marinette.

Hm… an older Marinette, a different time of day, and Marinette not seeming to know about the latest akuma attack? 

“Marinette… what year is it?” 

Marinette blinked for a moment. Her eyes widened.

Seemed Marinette understood what she was getting at.

She told Alya the date.

Her hunch was right. “We’re in the future,” Alya breathed.

A wicked grin slowly spread over her face. 

Five years was a long time. A lot of things could have happened. A lot of information could’ve come to light.

Like Hawkmoth’s identity.

Or more information on the Miraculous.

But most importantly right now-

She leaned in close to Marinette, making sure to keep her voice down, just in case someone else was around in the back. “So did you ever get together with a certain blond-haired, green-eyed model?”

“Uh… what?” Marinette asked, looking puzzled.

Alya snapped her fingers. “Adrien. Did you and Adrien finally get together? Ooooh, if you did you’ve GOTTA tell me how the confession went! Or, no, wait, don’t tell me, I want to get the deets at the time. Just let me know how long I’ve got to wait, girl!”

Marinette just stared at her, slack-jawed. “Adrien… like ADRIEN AGRESTE?!” she said, her volume rising with every word.

Alya’s eyebrows flew up. “Um… yes…?”

She’d thought that Marinette would be glowing about finally getting together with her crush, or dejected about still not being able to spit out what she wanted to say to him, downcast over him rejecting her, or maybe even infuriated because he mistreated her and they subsequently broke up.

(The last one was VERY unlikely though. After the Felix debacle, she’d learned to have a bit more faith in Adrien’s good nature.)

Shock at the concept of dating him? Not something she’d anticipated.

Footsteps echoed from behind Marinette.

So one of Marinette’s parents must’ve been in the back-

Adrien popped his head around the corner.

Seemed both he AND Marinette had aged well. 

Not that Adrien looked all that different. Taller, definitely, maybe with slightly messier hair and… were those earrings? They looked good on him.

“Hey dude!” Nino waved at his best friend. “What’s up?”

“Uh…” Adrien said, scratching the back of his neck.

“WOW those outfits really take the years off, huh?” Marinette said loudly, shoving them out the door. “Make you look smaller than usual. Well we better go talk about plans later okaybye-”

She promptly slammed the door behind them, physically pushing them away from the bakery.

After Marinette had dragged them a good distance away, Alya finally got over her shock, turning around and glaring at her. “What was that about?!” she asked Marinette indignantly, hands on her hips. “You know me, I wasn’t going to spill anything to him. That’s why I was talking so quietly! Why’d you have to do that?!”

Nino frowned, seeming more concerned than annoyed. “Adrien looked really hurt by that. Not cool.”

“There’s nothing to spill!” Marinette protested, gesticulating wildly. “I only met him for the first time two days ago!”

*record scratch*

Two-

Two DAYS ago?!

Ok, hold up.

“Adrien joined our collège class the day after I did! He sits in front of you in class! What’re you TALKING about?!”

“Uh… no…?” Marinette tilted her head to the side, befuddled. “I think I would remember that, even if it was a few years back.” 

Alya let out a bark of laughter. “Yeah, no kidding. He would be uh, difficult for you to forget. Heck, even if your memory was erased, you’ve got so much stuff revolving around him, I couldn’t see that lasting long.”

Marinette blushed. “Why do you think I have a crush on him?! He’s HAWKMOTH’S SON!”

“WHAT?!” Alya and Nino yelled in unison.

“Ladybug and Chat Noir defeated Hawkmoth a couple years ago,” Marinette explained, pulling out her phone.

A moment later she held it up, showing a blog post from the Ladyblog.

Oooh, that’s a nice graphical design. I’ll have to look into updating my site, Alya thought.

Turning her attention to the picture, she squinted. “Hey, can you enlarge the photo?” She asked.

Marinette complied, enlarging it and turning her phone sideways, letting it fill the entire screen. 

Gabriel Agreste being led away in handcuffs by the police, with Ladybug and Chat Noir in the background. Ladybug looked satisfied, with maybe a twinge of melancholy, but Chat Noir…

He stared vacantly ahead, seemingly not focused on anyone or anything, a smile on his face - but the most forced one she’d ever seen.

“What’s wrong with Chat Noir?” 

Marinette frowned, looking troubled. “I don’t know. He seemed really, really upset when Hawkmoth was defeated. It was a tough battle, bad enough that neither of them have returned since, but that doesn’t explain why-”

She trailed off, lost in thought. 

A moment later she looked up, meeting Alya’s eyes.

Immediately she waved her hands around, trying to ward off… something. “I- I mean, that’s what I read on the Ladyblog and what I could piece together from video footage, it’s not like I was there, NOPE. I was huddled in my room the entire time. Not like I have any insight into what Chat Noir was acting like during the battle, not beyond what any other civilian would know! That would be ridiculous, utterly ridiculous!” she let out a few forced guffaws.

Alya’s eyebrows flew up.

O...Kay…?

Maybe Marinette had been following Ladybug and Chat Noir during the final battle and hadn’t wanted anyone to know? She’d wondered whether Marinette might have a thing for Chat Noir, but her crush on Adrien dwarfed any feelings she might have had for him. Plus it’s not like Marinette would actually know Chat Noir, unlike Adrien.

Thinking about Adrien…

“He must’ve been devastated,” she murmured. Marinette looked at her questioningly. “Adrien, I mean,” Alya clarified. “Having your father turn out to be a terrorist? I can’t even imagine.”

Marinette buried her face in her hands. “Not you TOO,” she said, her voice muffled.

Nino slowly started edging his way behind Marinette.

“What’s your problem with Adrien?” Alya asked. “Did he do something?”

Marinette glanced away. “Not… exactly… I just… I’m afraid that it might all be an act. That he might’ve been helping Hawkmoth secretly, and… and even if he wasn’t before, that he might just be biding his time, waiting until he figures out who Ladybug and Chat Noir and then BAM!” she slammed her fist down on her other hand. “He takes them out, steals all the Miraculous, frees his father and rules Paris FOREVER!”

Alya reached out towards Marinette tentatively. She collapsed into Alya’s arms. 

Hugging her tightly, she sang a soft nonsense song, rubbing small circles in Marinette’s back. 

She’d done this a few other times since she’d met Marinette, though she’d never thought she’d do it underneath these circumstances.

Whatever these circumstances actually were.

Did everyone have amnesia or…?

“Do you have any big memory gaps?” Alya asked once Marinette’s breathing had calmed down. “Especially from five years ago?” 

Marinette shook her head. 

She’d shelve that theory for now then. More likely it was…

“An alternate timeline, huh?” Alya said.

Marinette looked up at her questioningly.

“That’s what I think this is,” Alya explained. “I WAS thinking that maybe there’d been some sort of mass amnesia, but if you don’t have any memory gaps - and trust me girl, with how involved you were with Adrien, there WOULD be memory gaps - that seems unlikely. I’m betting this is some sort of alternate universe, one where Adrien never got to go to school.”

“I still don’t get why you think there’s something between me and Adrien!” Marinette said. “I mean sure, he’s pretty, but did I really fall for him just for that?” 

Alya shook her head. “Actually, you hated him at first. Chloe’d been bragging about how he was her friend, and with that on top of you catching him trying to remove the gum Chloe’d planted on your seat and mistaking it for him PLANTING the gum… well… both of us just assumed he was a spoiled rich bully, just like Chloe. Luckily that turned out not to be the case.”

“How’d that misunderstanding get cleared up?” Marinette asked. “And how did your Marinette jump from that to crushing on him?”

Alya grinned. Marinette had ranted about this moment to her SO. MANY. TIMES.

“School let out later that day. It was raining and Marinette had forgotten her umbrella, so she hung back a moment, long enough for Adrien to approach her. At first she looked away from him, not wanting to acknowledge his greeting. But then he told you - told her I mean - that he hadn’t done it, promised that he’d just been trying to take it off with such sincerity that she had no choice but to believe it. He opened up to her, even though she’d been shunning him just moments ago. And finally he gave her his umbrella, just because he could. Because it was the kind thing to do. She’s been a goner ever since.”

The Marinette in her arms looked away. “I can see why she might have developed a crush on him. But I still dunno whether I trust him.”

“I don’t know whether I have anything that could convince you on that,” Alya admitted, “especially since this is probably a different timeline, and for all I know he could be evil here. Just make sure that you’re judging him on his own merits, okay? Not who he’s associated with. Not his fault he has so many crappy people in his life.”

“I’ll… take it under consideration,” Marinette said reluctantly. 

Marinette looked from side to side. “Where’d Nino go?”

“Oh, he snuck back into the bakery several minutes ago.”

“WHAT?!”

---

Nino opened the door to the bakery, letting out a small sigh of relief. He really wanted to check in on his best friend, and judging by Marinette’s behavior, she wasn’t exactly keen on him or Alya chatting with Adrien.

Thinking back on what he’d just heard, he frowned. 

He wished he could say that he’d never have suspected that Gabriel was Hawkmoth.

That he didn’t think Adrien’s old man could ever be capable of such evil.

But he knew better.

The guy threatened to withdraw Adrien from school and isolate him from everyone else at the drop of a hat, paid little attention to his son when he was at home, and was a very negative influence on his life in general. He might have been grieving, but… so was Adrien. He needed the only parent he had left.

And instead Gabriel had chosen to respond by becoming a supervillain and terrorizing Paris, endangering his own son in the process.

He really wished he’d gotten to hit Hawkmoth with his turtle shield more. At least he got to relish the smack he got in.

“You’re back!” 

Nino looked towards the voice.

Adrien walked closer to him, a tentative grin on his face. “I didn’t think you’d return so soon!”

“I had to come back to talk to my best friend,” Nino said.

“Best friend?” Adrien asked, blank-faced.

Oh, right. According to Marinette, Adrien hadn’t joined their class. She hadn’t even met Adrien until recently. 

Had some sort of memory-wiping akuma attacked? Wouldn’t have been the first time. 

“Do you know who I am?” Nino asked, pointing at himself.

Adrien rubbed the back of his neck. “Uh… well I know you’re friends with the Ladyblogger and Marinette, and… sorry, that’s it.”

He looked really apologetic, like a dog who’d ripped up a bunch of toilet paper and acted guilty about it once caught.

Hm. If it had been a memory-erasing akuma, maybe he could jog Adrien’s memory…?

And even if it wasn’t, he wanted to let Adrien know that someplace, somewhere, people cared about him. If Marinette’s reaction to him was any indication, he’d need that reassurance. Being looked at with suspicion, having people run from you just because of who your dad was, thinking that you might’ve been involved in his crimes… he couldn’t imagine.

“You joined our class the day after Hawkmoth first attacked,” Nino told him, pulling out his phone.

Adrien shook his head, looking confused. “Uh… no? I wanted to, I REALLY wanted to go to school, but Father-”

He cut himself off, looking away.

“Marinette said the same thing,” Nino told him. “That you hadn’t enrolled in our class, that she’d only met you recently. I don't know what that’s about, whether everyone’s memories were wiped, or an akuma messed with the past, or what.”

Come on, come on, where was it- ah!

He clicked on a photo, one taken a few months ago, holding his phone up so his friend could get a better look.

Adrien squinted for a moment. His eyes widened. “That’s-!”

Nino nodded. “Our class photo. The official one, anyway.” He chuckled. “I liked our unofficial ones better.” Swiping to the side, he showed the new ones the class had taken at the park. 

Adrien’s jaw dropped more with every new photo. He let out an involuntary bark of laughter at the one of himself, Nino, Kim, and Juleka posing. “I- I always wanted to mess around like that at photoshoots,” Adrien said. His voice trembled slightly. “But I wouldn’t be able to get away with it. And that’s mostly fun when you can share it with friends, at least share the picture, and I- I couldn’t. Chloe wouldn’t have appreciated it, and L-”

He cut himself off, shaking his head.

“Luka?” Nino asked. 

He didn’t know why Adrien would know Luka and not anybody else, but he seemed the most likely option.

“Uh…” Adrien scratched the back of his neck, looking away.

Hm, he’d have to see if he had- ah!

“You played in Kitty Section too, with Luka, Rose, Ivan, and Juleka.” Nino explained, clicking on the video. 

Adrien’s hands shook as Nino handed him the phone, watching the mini-concert.

“I- I was allowed to- I got to-” Adrien’s voice quavered. 

“Not at first.” Nino grimaced, remembering how bummed Adrien had sounded when he called him. “Your old man said that Agrestes were soloists, and that we were all bad influences.”

“HE was the bad influence,” Adrien said. A current of anger, of venom ran through his voice that Nino had never heard before. 

“Well I already knew that, even before finding out he was Hawkmoth,” Nino said, making a face. “Dude needed to chill out.”

Adrien snorted. “If he had any ‘chill’ he wouldn’t have decided that becoming a supervillain was the best way to heal my mother.”

Oh.

So THAT was why Gabriel had done it.

He’d just thought it was standard ‘I’m an asshole and want to rule the world while being a jackass to everyone in my life’ behavior.

(He still wasn’t going to rule out that being a factor.)

Nino put a hand on Adrien’s shoulder sympathetically. “At least he’s gone now and you’re free, right?”

“Right,” Adrien said. He didn’t meet Nino’s eyes.

“Not you TOO,” Marinette had said, burying her face in her hands.

As if she found it exasperating that Alya sympathized with Adrien. As if she had expected differently. 

Those worries she’d voiced as Nino had been tiptoeing away, about Adrien helping Hawkmoth, about him lying in wait, biding his time… Marinette probably wasn’t the only one to have that concern. And with Adrien’s face being as well-known as it was...

“You AREN’T free, are you?” Nino asked, eyes wide.

Adrien sighed. “I was as surprised as everyone else when I found out who Hawkmoth was. That someone who’s caused that much harm, that much trauma to this city, lived in my own house.” He clenched his fists, digging into his jean’s fabric. “I could barely believe it… no… I didn’t WANT to believe it.”

He took a deep breath, steadying himself. “I- I only remember snippets from right after his arrest. The police chief talking to me. Riding back to the station. It’s all a blur. Everything felt like I was processing it underwater. It was all so blurry and muffled. Even- even then, though, I could feel everyone’s accusing stares.” “I understand why, don’t get me wrong,” he cut in hurriedly. “Who wouldn’t be suspicious of the son of the terrorist who’s been making everyone’s life miserable for the past four years?” Adrien almost panted with exertion, his eyes wild. “And- and it was happening in my own house! Underneath my nose! I should have KNOWN! I could’ve stopped this!” 

Reaching out, Nino pulled his friend into a hug. 

Adrien stiffened for a moment, before melting into his embrace.

“It’s his fault, not yours,” Nino murmured. “Remember that, dude. He was the adult. He was your parent. Your ONLY remaining parent. I’ve met the guy. And I’ve heard you talk about what he’s like. If you had investigated more?” Nino shuddered, thinking about the disproportionate punishments the bastard had enacted. “And knowing he was HAWKMOTH on top of that? I’m kinda glad you didn’t. Yeah, maybe you could’ve ended things sooner. Or maybe he would’ve hurt you more before you had the chance. I’m just glad you survived.”

“I-” Adrien’s throat sounded tight. “I’m- I’m glad I survived too.”

They stood there for a moment, Nino feeling Adrien’s breath go in-and-out, his heartbeat racing, until it gradually started to slow.

*ring ring*

Adrien and Nino broke up their hug just as Marinette burst through the door, Alya on her heels. She skidded to a halt in front of Adrien - but not quite in time, sending her careening towards the floor.

She never made contact.

“Woah!” Adrien shouted, catching her in his arms.

Nino detected a hint of pink to Marinette’s cheeks before she abruptly sprang to her feet.

“So, uh,” Marinette said awkwardly. “I’m guessing Nino talked to you about some stuff. I mean, of course he talked to you about stuff, because that’s what talking is about. What- what I mean is, what were you two talking about?”

“I wanted to show him how much we care about him,” Nino told her. “Especially since with this… amnesia?”

“I think it’s an alternate timeline,” Alya said. 

“Especially since in this timeline,” Nino continued, “it really doesn’t seem like he had anyone.”

“I had a couple other friends,” Adrien told him quietly, giving a melancholic smile. “But I lost contact with them right after Hawkmoth’s defeat.”

Noticing Nino’s frown, he hastily added, “they didn’t abandon me or anything! They were online friends. One moved somewhere without internet reception, and the other... we never knew each other’s names. But we talked all the time. We chatted, laughed, defeated villains together…”

“In the video games we played, of course!” he added after a moment. He chuckled fondly. “We played as a team. Together, we were unstoppable, no matter what our opponent threw at us.”

Adrien swallowed. “But in the aftermath of Hawkmoth’s defeat, with all the turmoil, with everything that happened… I lost my means of contacting her. I- I don’t know whether I’ll ever get to see her again.”

“We’d promised to meet up after Hawkmoth’s defeat,” Adrien said. His voice cracked. “That- that once it was safer in Paris, we’d finally tell our names.”

His eyes dropped to the ground. “Instead, we lost each other. Maybe for good.”

“I know what that’s like,” Marinette said. She sounded strangely distant. “I had a friend like that too. I cared about him. A lot. Maybe… maybe even as more than a friend.” She said the last part haltingly, as if she’d only just admitted it to herself. “He- he wanted to know who I was. For me to know who he was. But- but I couldn’t do that. Not in Hawkmoth’s Paris. I already cared for him so much it ached. If I was closer to him than that- if I’d accepted his rose- I’m- I’m afraid Hawkmoth might’ve used the strength of those feelings against me. That I could’ve gotten akumatized, or he might’ve, and if we knew who each other was, knew WHERE the other one was… I just… I couldn’t accept that we might be sent to hurt each other.”

“We talked while the final battle was raging,” she continued. “He seemed really upset, more angry than I’ve ever seen him before, but… also kind of sad. I wanted to know what was wrong, but there wasn’t really time to press him. And after that battle he just… disappeared. I knew there was going to be some sort of disruption, but- but I’d thought we’d have more time to talk beforehand, that we’d be able to exchange new contact information. We were cut off before we had the chance.”

“I- I think of him every day,” she said quietly. “Wondering how he’s doing. He was always so positive, no matter what life threw at us. I hope that wherever he is, whatever he’s doing, he hasn’t lost that positivity, that optimism, the ability to see the best in the world and in others.”

“I’m sure he’d be happy to know you cared for him so much,” Adrien said, giving her a warm smile.

Marinette blinked, giving herself a small shake. She turned to Alya. “I dunno whether you’ll remember any of this after the Ladybug in your time restores anything, but on the off-chance you do, is there anything you need to know?”

“Oh!” Alya pulled up some footage. “You told me who Hawkmoth was, but what about Mayura?”

“Mayura?” 

“Who?”

Alya snapped her fingers. “You know, the Peacock Miraculous wielder, the one summoning the sentimonsters! Did she not exist in this universe?”

She pulled up part of the fight against Mayura, the sentimonster Ladybug, and Hawkmoth.

The video ended, she took another glance at Marinette and Adrien.

Marinette seemed to be in shock, staring straight ahead.

Adrien frowned, thinking. “I’d wondered for a long time how Father managed to hide his supervillain activities from Nathalie, considering she was around him most of the time. I thought maybe she was just really good at never asking questions.”

He grimaced. “Looking at that? I’m betting she didn’t ask questions because she already knew the answers.”

“You think Mayura’s Nathalie?” Alya questioned.

He nodded. “Unless something’s different in your universe. My father doesn’t have a lot of associates, and the way he acted around Mayura there, how he was willing to pass up a chance to fight Ladybug for her Miraculous in exchange for catching her… the only people I can think of who he’d do that for are my mother and Nathalie, and mom…” he trailed off.

“I- I didn’t even think about that,” Marinette said guiltily. “I remember reading something about Gabriel having a secretary, but I didn’t think about her much beyond that.”

“Maybe you could ask this universe’s Alya to post something on the Ladyblog, telling Ladybug and Chat Noir she has a lead on who Mayura is?” Alya said. “I mean, I know they haven’t shown up in ages, but maybe that’s just because they haven’t had reason to.”

Marinette winced. “I… really don’t think that’s it… plus Ladybug and Chat Noir never said that someone was helping Hawkmoth. Mayura never appeared, at least in public. I don’t know what we can do about this right now, especially without proof. Maybe if Ladybug and Chat Noir appeared, but…”

She sounded doubtful. Alya was beginning to think that the final battle was even worse than Marinette had alluded to.

She hesitated a moment, before turning to Adrien. “I- I think I owe you an apology. I thought you might’ve been helping Hawkmoth, but… well… I was just judging you by who your dad was. You’ve been nothing but sweet and kind.”

Adrien smiled at her, though it was slightly strained. “It’s fine. I’m used to it. A lot of people in this city have suffered at Hawkmoth’s hands. I don’t blame them for being scared, or angry at any reminders of him.”

“That doesn’t make it RIGHT,” Marinette said heatedly.

Nino nodded. “Dude just because something’s done to you it doesn’t mean it’s justified, or that it shouldn’t be made better. Like with your old man forbidding parties. I didn’t let that stop me from bribing your bodyguard into letting me and the other guys throw a party at your place for you!”

He chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. “It kinda escalated though. I think half the guys at Paris were partying in your room by the end!”

Alya gave Nino a sideways look. “And ONLY the guys because they ditched us girls while we were planting trees with a lame excuse. Seriously if you’d said you wanted to throw a party for Adrien while his dad was away, you could’ve just told us!”

Nino winced. “Yeah, my bad. At least we got to have fun there for a while before the akuma attack.”

“Akuma attack?” Adrien asked, eyes wide. “But I thought you said Father was gone!”

“He was- OOOOOOOH.”

“Yeeaaaah I don’t think he was actually gone,” Alya said. “You threw a ‘secret’ party in Hawkmoth’s house, WHILE he was still at home.”

Adrien gaped at Nino. “How’re you not DEAD?!”

Nino chuckled. “Lucky I guess?”

*twinkle twinkle*

A familiar red mass flew towards Alya and Nino.

Adrien’s eyes widened. 

“Behind the portrait!” he blurted out, just as the two of them were enveloped by the ladybugs, spiriting them off to whence they came.

It was silent for a moment.

“Do you think they heard?” Adrien asked Marinette.

“I hope so,” she said, looking off in the direction the ladybugs flew.

She turned to him. “I was planning on setting up some hang out time with Alya and Nino later this week. If you’re not busy… would you like to join?”

His smile told her everything she needed to know.

[luimagines]

Perhaps them being protective over you(the reader)? Mostly platonic but hints of romantic(if you get what I mean?) Like, the relationship between them has been platonic and they’ve only really seen it has platonic, but someone(the Heroes) might be catching feelings. Also if it isn’t too much trouble do you think you could keep this in the same timeline? Like, your other scenarios had the same reader and felt like these all happened at some point, can you do the same for this one? I hope this isn’t too much trouble, really love your blog!💖💖💖

Masterlist

Ok, I think I get what you mean. The Hero is protective with a hint of feelings they haven't come to terms with. They're crushing but they don't know it yet.

I don't know what you mean by the same timeline though. It wasn't supposed to be the same reader for all of them but hey! It be like that sometimes, I guess! Especially if they're just friends.

The Reader is also set to be the same age as Wind for his scenario.

Warrior's got longer than intended and there is some catcalling in that one. FYI

Scenario under the cut!

Legend

"You can be seriously going out in that." Legend couldn't help but snap. The group had been dropped into a snowcapped mountain in the middle of a blizzard. The only luck they had on their side was a nearby cave where they all but ran to in an attempt to weather the storm and get their bearings.

But someone still had to scout and you were planning to take Wild and Twilight with you since they were the only ones who could both brace the cold and most likely find their way back.

He, however, didn't like the idea of you going out there period.

Even less so when he found you severely underdressed compared to your companions.

It seemed however, that you saw no problem with it, even going as far as to tilt your head and look down at what you were wearing at his comment. It sparked something in Legend's chest that he wasn't willing to decipher at the moment.

"What's wrong with it?" You asked.

"Are you serious right now?" Legend scowled. The top you wore was tight around your chest and the cloak that clasped at the front billowed around you ever so slightly from the wind at the front of the cave. There were thin layers of furs under your linen over shirts that matched the fur lining your boots outlining your figure and silhouette in a way he found irritating.

The light that barely peaked through the clouds lit up your form gave you a halo of light over your head and made you look more of a hero than he ever would have pictured you.

It didn't sit well with him.

"That doesn't nearly look warm enough. If you plan on going out in that then you'll freeze within the first ten minutes." He crossed his arms and stared you down, willing you to disagree, to challenge him, keep you here longer so one of the others can pick up the lack and go instead.

"It's bear fur Legend." You reply instead with an easy grin your face. He elected to ignore it because he was trying to stay mad and irritated at the lack of care you seemed to have for your own safety. Why weren't the others backing him up?! Wouldn't Twilight have said something by now?! Or Time?!

Why was it just him?

How dare you smile like that? And at him no less! He's trying to make a point, darn it! It's hard to concentrate when you look so... innocent and bright and happy and-

Focus Link.

"I actually have four layers on as well." You continue and peel back what you can to show him what your clothing looks like. Unknowingly giving him a great look at your figure beneath said layers. "Two layers of wool and two of fur and I still have my clothes under here as well. Without enchantments like Wild, it's probably the warmest thing here. I'll be alright."

He can't bring himself to believe it.

He grits his teeth and continues to look at you, not bothering to spare a glance at Wild or Twilight when they eventually join your side, both now ready to head out.

"Honestly Legend. I know it doesn't look like much but I grew up around snow and ice and mountainous storms. If anyone knows what they're doing here, it's me."

He knows this. You told him. He knows that he knows this.

Why can't he believe it?

His hand forms a fist with a tight grip and he gets an idea.

Before he can fully think it through, he's marching up to you and snatches up your hand before you can protest.

You haven't put on your gloves yet so it's skin on skin.

He can't think much of it or he'll lose his nerve and he's already gone too far to go back now or he'll only be making a fool of himself.

Legend all but rips the most powerful ring he has on his person and shoves it onto your own. It's a protection ring, it'll shield you if anything tries to hurt you.

He's not entirely sure why he cares so much, just that he does, and this is all he can do if no one is going to back him up and stop you from going.

"I want this back." He says. He knows it sounds meaner than he's intending but then you let him put it on, take your hand back and marvel at it for a moment.

"I'll protect this with my life." You flex your hand, testing out how it feels and wonder what magic it must posses for Legend to not only give it up but deem it worth for the storm outside.

"Thanks Vet." You grin brighter and Legend finds himself floundering for a moment at the intensity of it.

The tips of his turn red, he knows this and he forces himself to distance himself or else the others would notice.

Your trio disappears into the white and he sits down by the fire made for the smaller ones of the group. He hasn't made eye contact with anyone since you left and he makes the mistake of trying to casually play it off by looking up.

Time is watching him with a knowing smile on his face.

"What?" Legend barks and scowls at the attention.

The older man just laughs a bit to himself and shakes his head but he doesn't say anything.

Legend thinks back on his actions a little sooner than he thinks he should and glances at his hand. The hand that grabbed yours.

Despite the journey, your hands were so soft.

He can't help but smile.

Time

Time was watching the over the group for the morning shift, his hand over his sword and his eyes watching... well you.

You intrigued Time.

Out all the heroes of courage on this journey, you weren't one of them. You weren't a Link and yet you seemed to fill a gap the group didn't know it had.

He couldn't figure out why or how but he found himself wanting to know what made you tick, why did you work so well with the others, what your world was like, and how did it mold you to be so....

He had trouble finding a word for it.

As the boys rough housed and played around, he found himself relaxing. It was a quiet morning and he had the added support of Wolfie on look out for any monsters.

He put his sword down and and walked over to where you were.

You were sitting with a book in your lap, something he found you doing often. But this time you were ignoring the book, laughing at Wind's and Wild's antics as they blasted each other with their Deku leaves. Wind continuously knocked the Champion around but neither of them seemed to mind.

If anything, it appeared the were doing on purpose and were trying to see how far he'd go.

Boys.

He could feel the smile on his face as he made his way toward you.

"Enjoying the theatrics?" He spoke up.

You jumped with a small yelp, something he found endlessly entertaining.

"You're the biggest guy here! How are you so quiet?!" You yelled in his face with a pointed finger and hand on your chest.

Time chuckles and sits down next to you, sitting just close enough for your knees to brush. "Sorry. It's not always intentional, I promise."

"So you admit you do it on purpose!!" You turn to face him fully. Book absolutely forgotten.

Time finds himself pleased by the change.

"Occasionally." He grinned.

"Oh, and I so happen to be your favorite victim then?" You crossed you arms and leaned closer to him. Your words were biting but the smile on your face was teasing and the glint in your eye was knowing.

"Of course."

"You're impossible." You shove him away. "You're only like this because no one will ever suspect you."

"Is that so- LOOK OUT!" Time had noticed a second too late but in the seconds Time stopped paying attention to them, Wind and Wild had stopped launching each other and started launching objects.

Such objects like coconuts and hard wooden barrels.

Like the ones heading in your direction.

With no time to act, he grabs you and rolled out of the way, pressing you into his chest. The huddling objects bounced off of your spot, some exploding on impact while the rest crashed into the nearby trees and bushes.

It looked like a war zone.

Time held onto you for a second after the damage passed, waiting for any else to come your way. When nothing appeared, he began to let you go, looking down on you to see your reactions. "You ok?"

You had curled yourself into his chest, continuing to press yourself close to him even after he let go.

Time finds himself pleased by this as well.

"Well..." You took a deep breath and slowly looked up and around. "That was exciting."

"Are you hurt?" He asked again. You looked fine, if only a little shaken, but he wanted to hear you say it.

"I think my leg got scratched in the chaos."

Time forces himself to stay calm and to not show any reaction. A scratch is better than getting hit head on. You'll be fine.

"What about you?" You look up to him again, eyes wide and bigger than he remembers and they were such a lovely color-

"I'm more concerned about you." He says, cutting his own thought process off. Time proceeds to get up, being as gentle as he can with you still in his arms. "I did just happen to grab you."

"Well, I'm sure it would have been worse if you hadn't." You grin at him and push yourself away.

Time now finds that he misses the feeling of you there but isn't able to focus on why when the two culprits are running up to you at break neck speeds.

"Are you two ok?!" Wind reaches you first.

"We're so sorry, we miscalculated the angle and it went wildly off our target." Wild continues and helps you to your feet.

Wind hovers near Time, unsure of what to do or how to help.

Time looks over to where you are, breathless but smiling dazzlingly. "We're ok." You tell Wild. "Just thrown around is all, we're fine."

Time sighs and stands up, putting his serious face on. "You boys better have a good explanation for this."

They could have hurt someone. They almost hurt you. His only consolation is how they squirm under his gaze.

Good.

Wind

"What the hell? What the hell? What the hell? What is this place?!"

Wind looked over his shoulder from the fight over to where you were, the monster he was fighting falling before him. It was a great thing in his eyes to no longer be the youngest of the group. Not only for there to be someone of his age to talk to but also get the group off of his back for some of their more dramatic attempts at keeping him safe.

Wind was having a blast.

Everyone had found a dungeon in the sense that they fell into it against their knowledge and will and had happened to land with partners.

He hopes so anyway.

But on his end, he's with you!

And he's loving it!

You've never judged him and you've always thought that his stories were great and this was a great opportunity to show you how cool he is in a fight without the others trying to stop him from doing all his cool stuff.

And as an added bonus, he loves spending time with you!

Wind was close to wishing on stars for more time to spend alone with you. The others were always around and always in his business. How lucky that it seems he got his wish without doing that little kid stuff, like star wishing.

He didn't take into account that this might be your first dungeon though.

...Guess you didn't have those in your world...

But that's fine! He'll just walk you through it. They're easy once you get a groove going, and as dungeons go, this one is old hat for him.

The enemies around you fall within minutes and you're a little more shaken up than he likes.

"You ok?" He puts his sword on his back and walks toward you. You're staring at the fallen enemy in front of you with your own sword still raised. There's a slight cut on your arm, a red line going across and down, but Wind is almost certain that the cut is across...the blood is just going down your arm.

Wind takes a moment to quiet the sudden and unexpected rage. The monsters are lucky, he thinks, that they're already dead.

He grips his wrist tightly at the sight and places his other hand on your own. You gulp slightly and look at him tearfully. "Wind, where are we?"

You're scared, he realizes.

Scared, and alone and you don't know what kind of place this is.

There's another cut just above your eye and there more blood going down your face.

Wind feels himself fill with determination. He has the experience you lack to make it through here. He has been in more fights than you have. He knows what he's doing.

He's going to make sure you get out of here without being afraid anymore.

"Come on." Wind lets himself go and places his hand on top of yours, gently pushing the sword down and make a small effort to lace your fingers together. His other hand grips his sleeve and he begins to swipe it across your face, trying to clean the blood the best he can. "We're going to find the others, ok? We just have to keep going and if we're lucky we'll find a map, maybe a compass and it'll help us get out of here. We'll be back with the others in no time!"

You gulp and nod, tightening your grip on his hand and let him lead you through the unknown. Your voice is quiet and soft and Wind finds that he wants to hear it more often like this...just not laced with fear. "Ok. I trust you."

Wind nearly preens at your words, a large smile overtaking his face.

He'll protect you and you won't have to be afraid, not while he's here.

"Just leave it to me. I got this."

Warrior

"Whatup, Captain?" Warrior feels a weight be thrown on his shoulder at the call of the voice.

He looks to the side where it is and throws an easy smile on his face.

It's you! And you're grinning fabulously in his direction.

"Nothing in particular. Just checking our supplies, we might need to make a supply run in the nearest town for potions if we're lucky enough to find one but..." He looks at the bag in front of him with slight distain.

Truthfully, the group is low on a lot of stuff. Food, medical and magic supplies, someone is going to have to buy the Veteran more sewing supplies as well with how much battery all your clothes have taken on.

It would have to be a big buy....

A small town probably won't have half the stuff they need. And he doesn't know what kind of budget he's working with either.

But he's dealt with worse with less.

The group will hold on for a little longer if nothing drastic happens.

But Warrior doesn't want you to know that. If he had things his way, he'd let you think that everything was ok. That everything was fine and under control.

He's used to having to keep dire news from the troops so that they can keep fighting the good fight.

Lying to you though feel wrong. Dirty.

He finds your complete trust in him endearing and your willingness to help him with any and all loads on his shoulders means more to him than he'd ever be willing to tell you to your face.

You brighten and throw a thumb in the direction behind you. "We're in luck then. There's a town, that-a way according to Wild's weird telescope from his slate. I was planning to go check it out regardless but was in need of a partner. Wild can't because Twilight benched him after last fights stunt. Maybe we can kill two birds with one stone?"

That idea sounds fantastic.

"I'd love to." He says easily. "Got anything to do before we head out?"

"Nope. Ready to leave immediately." You get off of him and he follows after you without missing a beat, quickly falling into sync with your steps. It's a habit he has trouble breaking, but if he can focus on matching your stride instead, he can stay by your side for the walk.

"We're getting supplies from the town. Be back soon!" He calls out to Time and the group as you walk by.

Time raises his hand in acknowledgement and goes back to pinning Wild down with his stare alone. Warrior doesn't feel sorry for him.

With that taken care of, you both pick up your speed and quickly leave the range of your little camp. Jokes are traded easily between you two and Warrior finds himself relaxing.

It's a strange feeling but one he knows that he can share with you.

You put him at ease and there's something about you that calls for his attention.

Maybe it's your attitude. Maybe it's your determination. Maybe it's the way you fight and the grace you carry yourself with.

You're a good fighter, a good team mate, and a good person.

You take care of the others. You take care of him.

He doesn't know how to thank you.

Warrior notices that you both reach the town in record time, the conversation seeming making time a useless way measure distance.

You both walk in and begin with Warrior's shopping list since it has a higher priority than simply exploring.

Warrior makes a promise to himself to find something for you.

A small gift, if you will.

He's not entirely sure what you like just yet but he thinks you deserve something nice and if he's here to buy nice things, then why shouldn't you get something as well.

The trouble is getting it without you seeing him buy it, or figure out his plan.

You were always able to read him like a book.

"Lookin' good sweetheart!" A voice calls from the side. A loud and obnoxious voice followed quickly by multiple cheers and whistles.

Warrior instantly has a spike in irritation and he forces himself to not shout back. He's used to this. It happens sometimes back home. He's not surprised it can carry elsewhere. There's pigs everywhere.

He ignores them.

"Why don't you leave your boy toy and come find out how a real man can treat you darlin'?!" Another one comments. More cheers and howls.

Boy toy?

That's new.

Warrior looks in their direction and comes to a startling discovery.

They're not looking at him. THEY'RE LOOKING AT YOU.

Now... Warrior likes to think he's a rational man. He's good at keeping his head on straight in tough situations. He's good under peer pressure and under stress.

He takes one look at you and sees your smile gone, your head is down and your face is red in shame, anger and embarrassment.

But you don't say anything in reply and only shuffle closer to him, trying to get in front of him so he'll shield you from their gaze.

Warrior is a rational man.

Many would agree with that.

He wants to tear their heads off.

"Come on baby, don't be that way! As easy as your back is to watch, we want to get a good look at your pretty little face!"

Warrior turns suddenly and faces them all head on. "Thank you for the compliment doll face! I'm new in town and just passing through but maybe-"

He starts walking towards them as sultry as he can manage, pulling on every acting cell he has in his body.

Which is a lot if you ask him.

The tactic works as he wants it to. Warrior knows he wasn't their target and the idea of him responding instead throws them off their rhythm.

"No, no, wait-" One of them holds a hand up and takes a step back. "Not you."

"Who else darlin'?" He mimics their drawl and smirks at their instant discomfort. "You want a good time?"

"I'm leaving." One of them says after a second of horror shows on his face and not so subtlety turns on his heel and leaves. The third follows without saying anything and it just leaves Warrior and the first caller.

Warrior likes these odds.

He drops the act and lets his murderous intent shine on his face. "Got anything else to say?"

Warrior reaches for his sword and the idea finally gets through the guy's head. Leave us alone or else.

"...No." He says and finally leaves as well, not looking back at either of you.

Warrior nods at his retreating form and returns to you, a little ashamed by how long it took him to react. For your sake.

His head is low when he reaches you and he scratches the back of his neck instead of making eye contact.

"Um... What do you want to do now?" He asks lamely. By Hylia, he wants to kick himself into oblivion.

A small snort catches his attention and he snaps his head up.

You're looking at him, hand over your mouth and crinkled eyes giving away your not so hidden smile. Your shoulders are shaking and it only grows as he stares at you.

You're not mad? He has trouble believing it because he's still furious.

A small bark of laughter escapes without your consent and it's the last wall to break as the dam flows out. You're laughing hysterically and it's beginning to scare him a little.

"D-Did you see their faces?!" You nearly scream. "Oh my god, Warrior, I love you. That was amazing."

Warrior shakes off the shock and feels himself blush. "It wasn't that special..."

"Wasn't that-? Oh boy, I wish Wild was here. I would have loved to get a picture! Warrior that was awesome. I'm so glad that you agreed to come with me." You walk beside him and grab his hand, beginning to drag him through the town. "You know what? I owe you. I have some rupees and we're not expected to come back to camp yet. You want something? I'll get it for you. My treat. Anything you want."

Warrior begins to flounder, and he's uselessly dragged behind you while your grin grows with every second that you talk.

While this all happens and you talk about the ways you plan to treat him, Warrior starts to think that he might just do anything for you.

Hyrule

Hyrule was busy enjoying the scenery of their most recent trip. He had managed to sneak away from the group and walk around the area without having to worry about the others for a moment.

The quiet was nice and familiar. The place was new and begging for him to explore what it had to offer.

Hyrule... found himself wishing for companionship, weirdly.

Well, as long as his travel companion is you.

He supposed Wild would have been just the same....but he found himself wanting to be with you instead.

He just... he doesn't know why. It doesn't bother him.

There's just.... He has trouble finding the words.

You're warm and gentle and it reminds him of casting his Life spell on himself before he met the others. There's a sense of safety, of calm.

A cool breeze on a warm summer's day.

A smile creeps on his face at the thought of you. Hyrule knows that he does it often but he still can't bring himself to care about it.

"Oh my- NO! HEY!" He hears your voice. Panicked, frantic and shrill.

And it gets cut off.

It's a bucket of ice water dumped over him. His heart launches into his throat and his stomach drops to his feet. His feet are moving in the direction towards you before he even realizes it.

Hyrule has reached a full on sprint and has to continue to run when he fails to find you. He takes a moment to be grateful for his stamina and how he's used to running but you're not.

At least he doesn't think so.

But he hopes this isn't where he finds out.

He trips over something. A sharp pain cuts across his shin as he falls to the ground, palms barely sustaining damaged thanks to his armor.

Hyrule gets up and sees something even worse than what he thought.

It's your sword.

You don't have your sword.

You're unarmed and alone.

Hyrule picks himself up and your sword and continues running at an even quicker pace.

He reaches you eventually and feels unadulterated rage flood through his system.

There's a pig monster over you, cheering and dancing in victory. There's only one. He thinks it's one of Wild's bokoblins but he calls on his magic and sends his sword straight through the monsters beating heart.

There's no black blood as it falls.

He sprints even more in your direction and begins to cradle your head, gently checking for blood any injuries.

He lets the healing spell move through his fingers to catch whatever he might be missing, whatever he can't see or get to without hurting you further.

He can feel what areas need the attention the most and can almost reconstruct the attack.

There's a large bump on your head, most likely the hit that knocked you unconscious.

Your arm is scratched and multiple pieces of skin have been torn off but it's a graze more than anything, it's not bleeding and doesn't goa any deeper than that.

Probably the hit that knocked your sword out of your hand.

There's a bruise blossoming on your knee and on your stomach and he has trouble figuring out what came first. They could have come from your fall or the beast could have simply hit you again.

The magic works its way through your system and subsequently heals him as well from his own minor injuries.

There's no way you can wake up fast enough and it leaves his heart pounding in his chest.

Hyrule knows when there's nothing left to heal and has to force himself to stop before he overexerts himself. The uncertainty is killing him. Just when he was hoping to spend time with you alone, this happens.

You groan and begin to sit up, your hand going to your head before realizing that it doesn't hurt and that you're not alone.

"Hyrule...Hey." Your voice is soft and a smile overtakes your face. You looks around and sit up straighter when you catch the dead body of the monster not two feet from you. "Guess that's your doing?"

Hyrule nods and moves to give you space, reaching his hand out for you to take. "How are you?"

"Good, all things considered...." You shrug and pick up your sword. Hyrule didn't even notice that he dropped it. "I was looking for you."

A mix of emotions fills his heart. Guilt at being the cause of it. Relief that at least you're together again. Happiness, strangely, at the thought of you thinking about him.

"Well I'm not lost, just..." He nervously looks up to you, his hand coming to scratch the back of his neck. "Got left behind."

"We noticed." Your smile fills with mirth and it's borderline a smirk.

Hyrule is not prepared by the realization that he finds that incredibly attractive.

"Thanks for coming to my rescue." You say, wrapping your arm with his. "The rest of the group is over here by the way."

"Yeah... Yeah ok." He grins and tightens his grip around your arm. "Let's meet up with our friends."

Yeah....friends...That's just what friends do.

Why does he feel weird about it?

Twilight

"On a scale of one to ten, how hard is it to learn how to ride a horse?"

Twilight looked around Epona's form, pausing his motion in brushing her to see you leaning up against her, a hand on her neck and brushing ever so slightly.

"Some people are more natural than others I suppose..." Twilight responded, an idea forming in his mind. "But it's not difficult."

You nodded in response and continued to pet the best girl around.

"I can show you how... If you want that is." Twilight grins to himself, leaning closer to Epona so you don't notice. The thought makes him giddy in a childlike way and he doesn't want you to be put off by his overexcitement.

You snap your head in his direction, a bright and excited smile on your face. "Really? I've always wanted to learn but I didn't want to impose."

Oh.

Out of everyone who could easily show you how to ride a horse, you came to him.

Well... doesn't that do something to his heart.

I mean, he is the only one with the horse but -DETAILS!!

He doesn't care for them.

"Here. Get on." He walks around and holds the reins, gesturing for you to get on Epona's back.

"Right now?" You're surprised, but delighted.

Twilight thinks it a good look on you.

"Sure. We're not going anywhere just yet and Epona can use a walk to stretch her legs." He says and helps you get up. Twilight is quick to follow after you and sit behind you, your back pressed up upon his chest.

"Ok, here's what you're going to do." He gives you the reins and places his hands over yours, leading you and Epona to where he thinks is a good place to go for a small trot.

It's effortless for him to lead you both through the trail.

Your trio actually pass by the group who are resting for lunch and wave to them as you go. Twilight catches the smile Time has on his face and is quick to put together that he knows something he doesn't. He'll ask Time about it later.

Twilight talks to you about how to hold the reigns, how to kick the horse into gear, how to steer and anything that he can think of that means safety for both you and the animal.

"Hey Twilight-" You mention suddenly and point just beyond the distance. "-Should we be concerned about that?"

Monsters, also on horses.

An arrow wizzes by suddenly, imbedding itself in Epona's side.

Shocked by the pain and scared by the suddenness of it, Epona takes off in a sudden sprint. Encouraged by the reaction, the monsters give chase.

Twilight notices that they don't have as much control over their chosen transportation.

He has the advantage.

Epona's first instinct is to run back to the group, back to the numbers and safety. Twilight knows better though, he can't lead the monsters to the group, even if he has a sizeable lead on them. He quickly turns her away, a plan forming in his mind.

You don't have weapons or back up, so this is going to get interesting.

"TWILIGHT!" You scream and throw yourself against him, covering your eyes with one and and gripping him tightly with the other. "WHAT ARE YOU DOING?"

"Trust me!" He yells over the rushing wind. "I think I have a plan!"

"YOU THINK? You're crazy!" You reply, directly into his ear. "But I trust you... so I guess I am too!"

"That's the spirit!" He grins. Twilight knows Epona won't be able to do much more without injuring herself further and he doesn't want to make any reckless decisions with you right next to him.

He'd hate for you to no longer want to ride a horse over this bad experience.

"Hang on tight!" He finds himself yelling, adrenaline in his veins and he pushes Epona to go a little bit faster.

There's a cliff nearby, a ledge that if he can Epona to go fast enough, she can jump it.

The monsters may try to follow but Twilight is riding heavily on their lack on control and the horses will to stay safe.

Epona reaches it and jumps.

There's a moment of weightlessness and Twilight's heart floats up to his throat. You gasp, and fling yourself around to press your face into the crook of his neck.

Twilight takes one arm off of the reigns and wraps it around you, pressing you tightly into his chest.

Epona makes the jump, landing on the other side with a little more turbulence than Twilight is used to, but he'll blame her shot.

He slows her down and looks to the other side of the ledge.

The monsters do in fact try to follow but Twilight's gamble and intuition pays off. The horses stop just by the edge and several monsters fly off of their backs and down below. The other monsters who can't get by, stop in anger and scream from the other side.

But it appears they lost their archer to the abyss.

So you're safe.

"Oh my goodness..." You gulp and remove yourself from him. "Holy cow... You did it. You mad lad, you did it."

Twilight chuckles nervously and begins to lead Epona back to the camp, gentler and a little more aware now of how she's moving, how much she's been hurt.

"Is Epona ok?" You try to look around him and spot the injury, but there's not a lot of space on the saddle to manage that. He does it for you and sees that it's mostly blocked by the saddle itself, the arrow imbedded deep into the side, just missing the both of you.

Epona most likely only has a scratch and was more startled if anything.

Twilight's not happy about his girl getting hurt but knows that she's taken worse hits. He'll tend to her later, he's worried about you too.

"You ok?"

"Yeah, but Epona?" You insist.

"She's fine. It mostly hit the equipment. They were terrible shots." Twilight grins easily, taking the lead in steering Epona and leans into your back.

You laugh breathlessly and turn your head directly into his. It gives him a great view of your eyes and how they seem to glow in the light. He finds himself entranced and almost misses what you say completely.

"You're incredible, you know that?"

He nearly preens and he pulls himself back. "You think so?"

"Incredibly reckless." You snort. "You've lost your privileges' for yelling at Wild. You're just as bad as him."

"I-..." Twilight starts but can't finish.

"But hey, at least we're ok." You lean back and make yourself comfortable against him. "That could have been worse."

Twilight doesn't move a muscle while you're there, if you're comfy against him, then he'll keep you comfy. "Yeah. Sorry about freaking you out back there."

You go quiet for a moment and he wonders if he's ruined something. Twilight doesn't know if there's something to ruin actually, and he doesn't understand the thought now that he's had it. He doubts you'll stop being friends because of this, so that's not at threat. Monster attacks are not something new. But...

He wants to do this with you, for you.

He doesn't like the idea of you turning him down.

"I don't know..." You say eventually. "Maybe you can make it up to me by continuing these horse riding lessons. Maybe I'll forgive you then."

Twilight doesn't look at your face, he doesn't turn to look at you. He's afraid he'll give too much away on his face if he does.

"If you're still up for it?" It's question. It wasn't supposed to be a question.

You nod and fully relax, your heartbeat gently beating against his own. "Maybe less monsters next time?"

"Agreed." Twilight grins. "Not until after you learn to go out on your own."

"How about... No."

Wild

"Wild. I. Have a question." Wild looks up to your approaching form, tensing up in anticipation.

"Yeah, what's up?" He tries to grin naturally. Wild feels his heart start to beat faster and his face heat up. He gets nervous around you even if he wants to be by your side, but he doesn't know why.

He knows you're friendly and sweet and nice and incredibly smart and there should be no reason that you do this to him and yet he wants to impress you so bad....

But he doesn't know how.

"Your slate has that crazy inventory right? So you carry a whole bunch of stuff on you at all times?" You try to stand tall but you dip your head and thread your fingers through your hair.

You're nervous.

Now you really have his attention.

"Yeah. I might have enough stuff to rival the Veteran and he's known as the Collector as well." Wild sits back and tilts his head at you. "What's up?"

"I..." You start and bite your lip. Wild's eyes land on it and he focuses there for longer than he thinks is appropriate. "I just wanted to ask if I could borrow a sword if you had extra... Mine's about to break and I don't want Smithy on my case about it, since I don't have what I need to fix it. But....um...You know what, nevermind. It's not a big deal, I'll manage, I'll-"

"No! It's fine!" He shoots up to his feet and grabs your hand to keep you from leaving. "Got anything in mind? I've got claymores and short swords, elemental weapons and sheikah blades. I've got some cool boomerangs or clubs from monsters if you want those."

While he's talking, he brings up his slate and begins sliding through the pages and icons, bringing it up to your faces so you can get a better look at what he had to offer. He's quick to point out what weapon can do what and how he has one story for each of them.

He takes a look over to your face and is overjoyed when he sees that you're looking through the screen with as much fervor and excitement as he did when he first came into contact with his world's weapons.

"..." He sees your eyes lock on one of them and voice comes out in a giddy giggle. "This one."

"Which one?" He leans over and places a hand on your shoulder. You let him, or you don't notice but the fact that you don't shove him away makes in happy in a way.

You point to it and he has a brief moment of panic when he sees the one you want. It's one of Robby's creations, a sheikah chainsaw so to speak. It's one of the biggest weapons he has.

"OK." He gulps and takes it out. He presses the activation button and watches your face when it lights up the blade.

A large grin over takes your face when you see it and stare at it for a moment. The light is bright in your eyes and you let out a giggle that's borderline hysterical.

"This is awesome!" You make grabby hands at it and he hesitates to give it to you.

He likes that you like it....but he's suddenly not all to convinced that he should. Wild knows that he's reckless and that he gets hurt a little more than anyone appreciates but... What if you get hurt? With his weapon, no less?

The thoughts scares him a little more than he'll admit.

Maybe you should have that one.... Maybe a more... normal weapon would have been better?

You step away and give it a few experimental swings and his heart launches into his throat.

"Ho-ok!" Wild frantically opens his slate again and takes out a another weapon, a normal iron sword. "Take this one as well actually."

"One is enough Wild. Thank you but-"

"We don't want the others to get jealous, now do we?" He lies. "This way it'll be easier to explain...so maybe save that one for emergencies?"

"Alright." You press the button and stash the weapon away, taking the other sword from his hand. Your fingers brush and he tries to not jerk his hand back and make it awkward.

"For the others sake." You grin, and there's a glint in your eyes that makes him think that you're on to him.

But you don't mention it.

He won't plan to mention it either.

He'll gladly share anything else with you though. You just have to ask.

Four

"RUN! WE HAVE TO RUN!"

Four's head snaps up and he doesn't have the time to register why before you run past him and grab his hand, dragging him behind you.

"WHAT?!" Four yells next to you and matches his stride to your easily. "WHY ARE WE RUNNING?!"

"THEY'RE AFTER ME!" You cry and continue running, taking a sharp turn. "NO TIME TO EXPLAIN!"

Four isn't prepared for the level of rage and concern for your behalf as he begin to reach for his sword and turns around to fight whatever has you in a panic.

"Don't!" You pull his hand harder and nearly throw him off of his feet. "It's not worth it. Just run, maybe we can find a place to hide."

"What's after you?" He asks instead. How bad did it have to be that you didn't even want to fight back? Was it monsters? Did they have numbers on their side? Was it the weapons they had? Were they infected?

He'd gladly fight them for you.

But if it's bad... it's bad and he knows that infected monsters take more effort then they should and they're not something he can do alone.

"Here!" A smile appears on your face and with another sharp turn to press him close to your body and squeeze into a small space. There's no space between you two, it's chest to chest, completely up against each other and Four suddenly has a hard time concentrating.

Four says your name in an attempt to distract himself from your body and eyes the hand you press against his mouth in response.

"Shh..." You look outside the hidey hole and snap back in.

Familiar voices ring with mirth and exhaustion but they are not dangerous. Four finds it in himself to be a little miffed at there not actually being any danger but he keeps quiet at your request.

"Where do you think they went?" Wind has a grin in his voice.

"I don't know. I think they actually lost us." Wild replies in kind. "But they can't be far. It's not like they can out run us."

"You take the right and I'll take the left?" Wind offers and Four has to wonder what they want with you.

You keep your hand over his mouth for a moment longer before slowly retreating.

Four gulps and takes a breath. He's immediately assaulted by how you smell. It's weirdly not just sweat, but apple blossoms and some kind of herb that he's having trouble pin pointing.

It's intoxicating and despite the lack of personal space, Four thinks that this is the most comfortable place he's been in a while.

"Ok. I think they're gone." You turn and begin to shimmy out of the hole. "Sorry about that. They want me to do something dumb with... an item of mine and I don't have the heart to tell them no. So I ran... Which didn't really work because they followed."

Four follows out of the hole and brushes the front of him off. He places his hands on his hips and fixes you with a stare.

"And then I ran into you and I didn't want to explain everything but you're a good guy and you'd just tell them where I went because you wouldn't know and I didn't want to risk leaving you behind-"

A good guy?

"So you kidnapped me?" Four raises an eyebrow. "That was your solution?"

"Well... How else do I get your attention?" You mimic his position and look him in the eye.

Four's about to retort with something that you could do before he stops himself. It's... not something one would just say to a friend. But he finds the idea very appealing for a moment before being disgusted with himself for thinking that about you.

He rolls his eyes to change the conversation outwardly but he continues thinking about it. "There are easier ways to get my attention. One of them, for example, say my name."

"Hard to do, if all of you have the same name." You grin.

He smiles back.

Truthfully, now that he's thinking about it, a lot things that you do catch his attention.

The way you move your hands when you talk. The way you move when you fight. The sound of your laugh. The color of your hair and your eyes.

"Um..." You laugh nervously and scratch the back of your neck. "Would you mind staying with me for a moment longer? I uh- Don't know the way back and I don't want to risk running into either of them just yet But.. I did kidnap you, so if you have something better to do-."

Oh yeah, he'll stay with for for longer. He doesn't mind one bit.

Sky

Sky yawns and rubs at his eyes for a moment before turning his gaze back into the fire.

It's early.... like, stupid early. He hates getting up before the sun and would have gladly stayed in his bedroll... but it's his shift.

Admittedly, he doesn't mind being on watch.

But it's the whole concept of being up before the very time keeper in the sky that miffs him. His body wants to fight it and he typically has to put his whole bed roll away when it's his turn or else he'll be tempted to go back to it and sleep the rest of the night time away.

The only bonus, he supposes, is the chance to watch the sunrise.

It's so different on the surface than on Skyloft, there's more colors and it's not as blinding. He can't to experience more when he reaches his own time again.

The other bonus, he supposes, now that he's thinking about it, if the chance to watch over his new friends and that includes you.

You... Are just as mesmerizing as the sunrise, he thinks.

There's something about you that he finds completely captivating. Your endless colors and arrays of simplistic beauty keep his attention in ways he wouldn't have thought possible. Bringing peace and tranquility to the group when they need and being a signal to start the next leg of the adventure.

And yet, he can admit that it's nothing extraordinary.

You're not trying to impress anyone. It comes naturally to you.

Like the sunrise.

Sky smiles to himself and....he's mature to admit that he's glad he met you, and he think he'll miss you the most when this is all over.

When Sky comes back to the present instead of being trapped in his own head, he realizes that he's been staring at you for a while.

You're still sleeping.

He takes a breath. That wouldn't have been awkward. He prides himself on not being a creep, thank you very much.

You turn in your sleep and a sound escapes you.

Sky sits up a little straighter and watches you again. He knows that everyone has their fair share of demon to fight even when they're asleep. It wouldn't be all that surprising to learn that you had your own battles beyond daytime.

You move again, lifting your arm to fight whatever your brain says is in front of you and a gasp comes through.

Sky shoots up again begins to make his way over to you. He's careful not to wake the others but if he kicks Wind's on the way over, he won't mention it... It's not like that woke him up anyway.

When he finally reaches your side, you're shaking and moving side to side without knowledge of what is happening outside your own mind.

Sky nearly growls and kneels next to you.

"I wish I can fight those things for you..." He says out loud as he begins to gently shake your shoulder. "How dare they still plague you. They're not even here. Who gave them the right?"

You give out a small scream, something in your mind terrorizing you and it prompts Sky to shake you by both your shoulders until you wake up.

Your eyes shoot open with a gasp. You're covered in a cold sweat and breathing heavily. It takes you a while to realize where you are and who's in front of you but in the meantime you try fighting Sky off, still not fully aware that you're awake.

"Hey, hey, it's me." Sky takes a step back in hopes of calming you, even if it's the last thing he wants to actually do. "You're safe now. It's ok."

You finally stop and look at him, staring for a moment until he can see the moment when you see him. "...Oh..."

"You ok?" Sky takes the step forward. "That seemed rough."

"I... Um..."

"You don't have to talk about it if you don't want to." He takes another step forward and places his hands on your shoulders. You're still shacking but instead of answering him you launch yourself into his arms.

Sky doesn't hesitate to hold you and lets you cry into his shoulder for as long as you need. He makes a vow to himself right then and there.

He's going to do his best to protect you... and the others. So that even if things get hard, maybe you'll have less nightmares to deal with.

If you'll let him, that is.

For now, he's going to hold you and be there for you when you need him.

It's... really all he can do.

[glowingbadger]

Okay, I LOVE the Spiky sword boy and his sheer inability to handle most emotions. May I ask how would Felix handle being teased throughout the day by his S/O? Like maybe she wears a little more revealing article of clothing than normal or other small things to really get at him?

Full disclosure, when I first started playing FE3H, a friend of mine asked which route I had chosen first, and I told her I'd joined the Blue Lions. And she had the audacity to look me in the eyes and say, "Because of Felix?" And like, yes because of Felix, but also fuck you.

Anyway, more content from me about teasing an uptight, emotionally congested man with a heart of gold (y'know, for something different xD)

Felix (FE3H) x Fem/AFAB Reader - teasing

NSFW 18+

If you'd known that Felix would be so easy and so fun to tease, you would have tried something like this far sooner. You'd watched him gape openly when he'd first seen you at the dining hall that morning with your blouse opened deep at the front ("It's so warm today!") and a skirt that hugged a little too tight and far too short. Later, you had made sure to sit across from him at the day's strategy debriefing so you could watch him struggle to keep his gaze above the neckline. By the time you'd insisted on joining him to spar in the afternoon, he was so off-kilter that even his swordsmanship began to suffer. Even in less-than-optimal attire for combat, you were able to keep up with him- for a while, anyway.

At last, he rallies his focus and blocks your strike just above the hilt. The impact so close to your grip manages to disarm you, and Felix takes a firm step forward and levels his practice sword at your throat. You're both panting, both red in the face- but you wear a grin while he scowls in reply.

"You had the upper hand a minute ago," he says, not lowering his blade, "If you were actually dressed properly for a fight, this may have been a real match."

"If I were dressed properly for a fight, I would never have had the upper hand at all." You retort, your wicked grin widening. It's the first time you've called attention to his reaction to your ploy- and his expression shows how your acknowledgement only flusters him further. Dark, narrowed eyes scan your body down, then back up.

"You're trying to get under my skin."

"I'd say I'm succeeding." you quip back. You see his chest rise and fall heavily in the moment of tense silence that follows. Finally, he lowers his weapon with an irritable exhale. Every muscle in his body is wound tight, his posture stiff, as though consciously holding himself in place. You bite at your bottom lip, just imagining that restraint snapping and coming undone.

"We're on the night patrol together tonight, right?" you say as you come to stand beside him.

"Uh- yeah, I guess so." Felix mutters. You smile and kiss him lightly on the cheek- a deceptively innocent gesture.

"I'll see you later, then."

Evidently, Felix had managed to collect himself by the time you joined him at the Monastery Gates that evening- at least outwardly. Eyes that had wandered your body all day are now kept strictly in check as you walk side by side around the perimeter walls. He even manages to chat with you more or less as usual as you make your rounds. In a way, you're impressed. But that doesn't keep you from wondering how you could push him just a little more.

"Soo..." you trail off for a moment, walking a bit ahead of Felix with your hands innocently behind your back, "I was chatting with Sylvain earlier today, and-"

"Sylvain?" he says sharply- and you know your bait worked. Too easy.

"Yup! We had a nice long chat, it was really sweet of him to take so much time out of his day for me."

Felix seizes your wrist in hand and tugs you back to him.

"He saw you like this? Did he try anything? If he did, I'll slit his-"

"Felix, come on," you cut in with a laugh. You face him and gently brush his bangs aside, admiring the way his sharp features are accented by cool moonlight. He gives an irritable sigh and steps forward, and you subconsciously step back in unison.

"You have no idea how people have been looking at you today." he says with a dangerous edge in his voice. You feel your back hit the wall, trapping you between cool stone and Felix's harsh glare.

"I've only been watching how you've been looking at me," you say, closer to a whisper than you'd intended. And in an instant, Felix's lips are on yours. He grabs onto your wrists and pins them above your head, and as he secures them in place with one strong hand, the other tugs up at the hem of your skirt. You whimper into his kiss like a mewing kitten as his tongue thrusts past your lips. He's harsh and unforgiving, and it's all you can do not to lose your breath as his touch runs unabashedly up your inner thigh.

"Felix...!" you gasp as two fingers press against the thin fabric of your panties, rubbing firmly along your wet heat.

"Quiet," he hisses, "Do you want the knights to hear you?"

Frankly, when you see that intense look in his eyes and feel his rough fingers slide into your clothing and between your lower lips, you couldn't care whether the archbishop herself heard you. Still, you manage to bite your lip and stifle a moan as two digits surround your stiffened clit, rhythmically stroking the sensitive nerves and sending sparks of pleasure through your core. Your thighs twitch inward, squeezing around him as he runs his fingers slick across the aching bud, setting your legs trembling. Felix must be able to feel your body going weak- or perhaps, he's every bit as impatient for satisfaction as you are. His touch leaves your needy body before long, and he releases your wrists. But before you can question him, he hikes your skirt up your hips without a word, then fumbles open the front of his pants to free his member, already throbbing hard and flushed a dark crimson.

Then, muscled arms wrap under you and lift you up against the wall. He hooks your knees over his elbows, spreading your legs wide for him as he aligns with your eager pussy. Sighing out his name, you wrap your arms around his strong shoulders for support. Then, you feel his warm cockhead parting your slickened folds. With a low groan rumbling in his chest, Felix pushes into the tight heat of your cunt, stretching you around him as he plunges inch after inch into you. Somehow, he feels bigger than usual. Perhaps a day of teasing has had a more tangible affect on him than you'd anticipated.

Felix brings his lips to your jaw, kissing and biting his way back to your ear, where the heat of his breath sends a shiver down your spine. His hips begin thrusting into you, pumping his cock into you until your overflowing arousal coats his full length. Thick veins drag along your inner walls, stimulating a range of wonderfully tender spots, and your nails dig along his upper back in desperation. You've known that Felix isn't much of a dirty talker- and given the circumstances, that's probably for the best- but the way he softly pants and groans into your ear floods your body with a new, more urgent need. The thought that this is what he's wanted with you, that all day Felix has been one taunt away from fucking you against the nearest surface, is such an intense rush that you can already feel yourself clenching and gripping around him.

"I'm- I'm gonna-"

"Do it," he whispers harshly along your neck, "cum for me- now."

He bucks his hips upward, sheathing himself deep inside of you until you can feel the pressure up through your center. His lower body is partially supporting you, so your weight pushes you down onto his throbbing length. Felix kisses you, not even bothering with skill or finesse- only raw need. And you cum, hard. Your body shudders, your pussy squeezes around him, and the knot of pleasure built inside of you comes undone at once. His kiss muffles your helpless, blissful whimpers, and before you've even ridden the full wave of your climax, his own begins to take hold. He holds you almost painfully firm against the rough stone wall as you feel him shoot his cum into you in powerful volleys, one after another. Felix breaks away from your lips, his head coming to rest at the crook of your neck. He utters a tortured groan as his manhood swells and flexes from base to tip, pouring out the last of his release into your over-used and over-full body.

You're reminded of your sparring match earlier that day. The two of you are both thoroughly spent, panting heavily and struggling to steady your breathing. Felix tries to be gentle when he sets you back on your feet, but neither of you realize how unprepared you are to use your legs again, so you stumble forward into him. You expect a disgruntled comment, but instead, he wraps his arms around you and holds you steady while you regain your bearings.

"Wow..." you murmur, clinging to the front of his shirt, "I should try teasing you more often."

[the-dwelf-ao3]

I was supposed to be studying but instead I wrote unnecessarily angsty gigolas whoops-

----

"See that star over there?"

Gimli was pointing at the nightly sky, his back flat against the wet grass.

Legolas, next to him, turned to his friend before following the direction of his finger.

Was that the way Gimli would deal with it, then? Pretending everything was well, pretending their lives were not going to be shattered mercilessly?

They had been lying under the stars for hours now, uncapable of saying a word. They would part at daybreak, and every fading star was a step towards that moment that could no longer be delayed.

"Yes. I do," muttered Legolas, his voice thick, words making their way through a mouthful of withheld cries.

"My people call it Giml."

Oh. Gimli was not just trying to chat away the night, no. He was sharing with Legolas things he had not shared before, things that, perhaps, he was not supposed to share. Legacy, family, names- sacred things that Dwarves kept secret, closely guarded.

"Were you named after a star?"

"Aye."

"It fits you."

Neither of them was as talkative as they usually were. One word too much, and they feared they would break, they feared their voice would give way to the misery they were attempting to conceal.

"It burns bright against the darkness, its light standing out. It fits you," Legolas repeated.

It looks so close, yet it stands so far. It looks eternal, yet its light will fade, it will be consumed by its own flaming brightness and only live in the memory of those who remain, of those who have witnessed its light and never since have been the same. It fits you, Legolas thought.

"I shall take that as a compliment," smiled Gimli. "I think my True Name fits me more, but every Dwarf thinks that."

"Alas! Your True Name, of which I am oblivious. Will I ever be allowed to know the name your soul truly responds to?"

"Nay, Lad, you know that. Not unless you marry me!"

"Perhaps I shall."

Gimli closed his eyes. They were doing it again, were they not? That flirtatious game of theirs. It had started as light teasing, a little guilty pleasure. An innocent way to cope with the rising of new feelings, burying them under humor.

But their bond had only grown stronger, until it had become clear to both of them that their hearts yearned for each other. They never spoke openly about it, they never directly addressed the subject- they would speak of in in terms of "what ifs", as if they were speculating on unimportant matters, as if they were jesting about it.

It would have hurt them too much to speak of how real their feelings were, for every "what if" only met a "would not" or a "could not", every "perhaps" had "impossible" for an answer. Every "Us" was always ripped apart by a "Them".

"Would not" is less hurtful than "not". "Impossible" sounds less cruel an answer if the question is about imagining and not desiring.

"So far would you go, to learn my Name?"

"Anywhere. Anything. As long as it concerns you, there is no such thing as too far."

Gimli opened his eyes wide, startled by how close Legolas sounded. Indeed, the elegant Elven face was right above his own, hair cascading from the sides, revealing the pointy tips of the ears, mingling with Gimli's red locks on the ground.

"Legolas."

"I cannot bear to part from you."

"Neither can I, but little choice we have. Our peoples need us, and their welfare is and must be our priority."

"I must be selfish, Gimli, dreadfully selfish, for no matter how many times we have repeated ourselves these words; I still don't want to go. I yearn to remain by your side, I pray the Valar for a way for us not to part. The sole idea of being far from you, not knowing where you are, not being able to come and find you somewhere near-"

"Peace. Legolas, peace," whispered Gimli, his open palm against the Elf's chest that was now moving frantically, in tune with his breathing.

Legolas, in turn, brought a hand to Gimli's face, fingers kindly finding their way through his beard. He was allowed to touch it, and he was well aware of what privilege it was. Would that be the last time he would feel the tickling hair between his fingers, as his palm met Gimli's cheek hidden under the red braids, as his fingertips caressed the rosy cheekbone and the sensitive, naked skin behind the ear?

He leaned in closer, his lips nearly touching Gimli's, as he closed his eyes- the Dwarf could swear that Legolas' lashes were wet at that point, and his heart sank.

"What if I married you. Right now, before we part, before we go."

Gimli's lips trembled. All he wished was to hold Legolas into his arms. He wanted to whisper his True Name into his delicate, pointy ear, no matter if Legolas had no Name to give him in turn. He would have been content to hear his own from the elven lips, to carve it out of Legolas' mouth as he made love to him until daybreak.

"A pair of miserable being would be, you and I, to forever bond right before being parted. How would I live, knowing that my spouse is far away? How would I spend years far from you, if we now shared a few hours of happiness?"

"I love you."

It was so sudden that it took Gimli a few moments to realize.

Straightforward.

Candid.

Genuine.

Oh, what had he done? Why had he crossed that line? Did he not know that those words would be like a dagger in his heart for the years to come?

"You have nothing to say to me?"

"How could I hurt you so, now that I've tasted such pain myself?"

"Pain be it, then. I need to feel. I need it to be something."

Gimli took a deep sigh. Oh how he wished he could give him joy, how he wished he could fill his elven heart with happiness.

"I love you. More than anything in this world, I love you."

"Can we not find a way, then? Gimli, dear, my dearest, can we not find a way?"

"Not tonight. Time is not on our side, that I know; I cannot give you forever. I wish I could give you every second I breathe, but that I cannot, either. All I can promise you is someday, when our duty is fulfilled. When we have seen to the safety and welfare of our Peoples, when we have given them a truly peaceful world to live in."

"Someday will do, then. Even if it is your last breath on this Earth, if you will share it with me, I will not have lived in vain."

A quiet, chaste kiss was all they indulged in before the dawning light told them it was time to go.

As they parted ways soon after, it had never felt so real- neither the love, nor the pain.

Someday. Someday would do. Someday would fix their hearts and souls.

[starshipsofstarlord]

Could I request a Jaskier x female reader where the reader is a princess who during daylight, is condemned to be a bear, after being cursed by an evil sorcerer At night she become a human again. Which the curse can only be broken by a man (who would be Jaskier) who pledges his heart solely to the reader (something like true love’s kiss). Please and thank you!!!

Bruin

jaskier x reader

masterlist

Warnings; mentions of witcher killing, mentions of death and angst, curses, nudity, some fluff, implied smut

“G-Geralt.” Jaskier’s voice shivered, as he saw a great mountain of brunette fur, wading through the long grass, heavy breathing exhibiting from its wet snout. “There’s a bear!”

“If you’re that scared, try to speak quieter.” The Witcher’s speech remained monotone, as he continued walking, leaving the bard to catch up with his hardy footsteps. “We need to leave before nightfall, that is when the true monster is unleashed from the bruin vessel.”

“You kill monsters, we’ll be fine.” The bard waved off, though he was terrified, and Geralt was all but convinced with his dismissal. “We will, won’t we Geralt?”

“It’s bad luck to remain out here at night, it’s an old wives tale, however, no one survives the night out here. Not after the disappearance of the princess of Arafell.” Jaskier remembered that tale, he had even seen the princess at a banquet once when they were both young in age.

Neither of them had the opportunity to converse with one another that evening, it was the night she had ran away. and he certainly had regretted never asking her dance. Before that though, they had often strode through the gardens hand in hand, conversing on the beauty of the petals that veiled around the stems, and she, unlike most people, listened to his descriptive forms of poetry. Back then, he had been shy, and not to mention, she was of sought after royal blood. That evening was the last that anyone from the kingdom had ever been seen, after the slumber of eternity wept over their souls. One thing he severely remembered though, was that she loved dandelions.

The princess had ran away, leaving the king and queen in search of someone that could find her, and thus they hired a private sorcerer to complete their wishes. But instead of seeking out the lost girl, the old man took the gold and the lives of old, wallowing the land in distress that clambered into a delving of madness.

A shout bellowed from the bear, and Jaskier found him to “How long will it be til we reach the borders?”

“The bad luck will loom over us Jaskier, we will not make it out of here in the span of the next countless hours. There will be a moon in the sky, but perhaps we’ll be able to seek out cover in the old guard’s tower.”

“Where are we Geralt?” The brown haired poet feared to be met with the answer “What makes you think that we’ll survive the night?!”

“This is what remains of Arafell.” Stated the white haired hunter, as he continued to plod through the thick foliage beneath his dark boots. He stepped on the dull green life form, not encouraged to pursue any further into the depths as he heard the destination that they were travelling through.

“Arafell, great.” Huffed the irritating bard, clutching his lute as he spoke the haunting name. “There’s no need to be afraid, when you’re in the land of torn bodies, because the witcher is by your side. He’ll slash and dice, protect the mice, from the darkness that falls from above. The people are dead, I am filled with dread, in the land of Ar-afellll.”

“Stop singing.” Whenever there was any fault present in their adventures together, Jaskier had a tendency, wallowing similar like a pie without filling to sing. It shrouded Geralt with epitomised frustration, his betrothed follower sure knew how to pull his strings, it was as though he were a moral lute, a practice run of socialisation for the noble’s son.

“Sorry.” Apologised the traveller, with a shrug encompassed by a spark of coldness affecting his posture. There was a breeze, filled with the pinching of icicles in the air, and it clawed through his clothes, clashing with the meat blanketed warmth of his bones. “It’s just- we’re in bloody Arafell, or what remains of it, and you are so calm. Have you maybe perhaps forgotten what happened here?!”

“No. I was here when it queen Ara and her kingdom fell. And that bear has lurked every inch of these demolished castle lands searching for scraps, and if you cannot tell, it is almost night fall, and she has come up sufficiently short of anything, for all these decades.”

The listener frowned, bears did not live so long. It was a curious prospect, it remained loyal to these grounds, although it was empty. There had to be a reason why, a pattern that supposed why it, or she as Geralt had divulged, remained to lurk in the midst of the overgrown forestry. And then another thought (yes, Jaskier had the ability to do that despite what his protective travel mate may have wondered), hit him, like a bolt of lightning.

“Um, Geralt, where is the bear?” He gulped, hearing the rustling of the thick foliage metres behind them. The moon scourged the sky with its global presence, inducing another shot of ambient fear through Jaskier’s veins. “It was-“

“Shut up a moment.” It was almost impossible half the time to silence Jaskier, but this time, he actually obliged the command. Geralt drew his sword, the one that glistened a predominate silver and was made from the compound, clutching the handle in his vice and skilled grip, as his feet took him closer to the imposter that was imbedded within the weeds.

“Oh.” Jaskier covered his eyes, he couldn’t look as Geralt pointed the weapon at the beasts throat; a whimper escaped it as Geralt took a step back, alerting his companion. “Kill it Geralt, it’s a bear, it’s going to kill us.”

“It was a bear.” Geralt elaborated as he watched the beast transform and lose its course coat of brown fur, turning into a less monstrous beast. It was only a girl, with unruly and wild hair that was matted in all directions, her face contorted into fear. “Of whom are you, my lady?”

“A witcher.” It trailed from her lips as a whisper, her tone alerting Jaskier that it indeed was not a bear, rather it was a woman, laid on the forest ground, in nothing but her own layers of skin. His eyes widened for a moment, until he earned an elbow in the rib from his friend for his long and convicted ogling. “I have only heard legends but...

“You speak english?” Jaskier wiped his forehead with the back of his hand, hinting at his subsequent misunderstanding of the situation. “but you were a bear?!” This was all growing more confusion with each passing second, there were too many angles of the world.

“I’m cursed.” It was an easy consequence to admit, for the lady of the worlds already lived through them. “Each day, I am forced to pad about in the brute body of a bruin, a sorcerer brought by darkness himself to this dimension damned me to this abomination, his name was-“

“Lament.” From hearing that name, the woman on the ground was taken aback as the women, trying to prevail some decency, attempted to cover her breasts with her arms, as she crossed her legs over one another. “Your parents sent me to find you, lady. I came up empty handed in my search for you, there was no trail that I managed to find, nothing that would point in your direction. And that night, as I returned with short of nothing of any news of your whereabouts, Lament was there.”

“He killed them all, didn’t he. My family?” The answer didn’t require any verification from Geralt, the solemn, yet usual expression on the Witcher’s face was all the confirmation that she needed. “Of course he did, he’s a poisonous shadow, when he finds something he wants, he takes away its home, so that it can’t run back to the hearth whence it came from. I regret every running away from home...”

“Wait a moment.” This was all beginning to add up in some mind boggling way. Jaskier flitted his gaze aside for a moment as Geralt pulled a fine blanket from his luggage, knowingly seeing the movement out of the corner of his curious eye that she was pulling the material that conducted warmth over her shoulders, and across her sachet of flaunted skin.

"Shut up Jaskier." Instantaneously stated the bard, whom had returned his cerulean gaze back upon the y/h/c woman, depositing a composition of interest to her form.

"You're the princess of Arafell, aren't you. Y/n, it's you, isn't it?" Y/n's expression was one of shock; how did this man know of her identity? She understood how the witcher did, though with considering he was condemned with the duty of finding her. The brunette man was slightly familiar, and so he revealed why that was. “it’s Julian.” Jaskier held his hand to his chest, almost hurt that you didn’t recognise him, but it had been years, so many, none of which had been kind to you. “My name is Julian Alfred Pankratz.”

“Dandelion!” The reprised title spun from y/n's tongue, remembering the nickname that she had given the now gentleman all those years ago, when he was nothing more than a persisting boy that made her flash an unashamed laughter in the midst of poised quality showrooms of noble gatherings. "I remember you." She dwelled on the fact, if she weren't clothed in only a shrill and frayed blanket that was pebbled with small dots of soil, from where it had been laid on the ground, y/n surely would have jumped up and spun her arms around his 'sexy goose' neck.

"You've got to be kidding me, it is just my luck that the pair of you know each other." Geralt crossed his arms, shaking his sleek silver head, being deprived of attention as he spoke. "Is there any way to get yourself out to get you out of this prospected curse of turning into a bear, y/n?"

"To be betrothed to a man, confirmed with a kiss resonating true love, though, nobody with any sense would put themselves in that position for me, there is no wealth to my name anymore, nor is there relevance with my heritage, for there is nothing that remains, as you have confirmed for me. This man must certainly be one of a kind, for he has to pledge his loyalty solely to me, forbidding himself from ever being with another woman again."

The mention of a lack of sense reminded Geralt of one man in particular, and he was stood right beside him. But it couldn't have been Jaskier, of all people, and- Geralt found himself overcome with dread as the bard stepped forward, crunching his shoed feet into the withered grass, closer to the rediscovered princess.

"I have waited my whole life to see you again." Oh god, here he went, Geralt thought. "When we were younger, I was infatuated with you, and here we are, united again in a union. If my betrothal means nothing then you will remain in this shrine of gloom, but to me, it would mean everything to me."

"Y/N come on, have some sense, it-" There was lack of reason for Geralt to continue speaking, as y/n sprung up, the blanket flowing down from her shoulders, baring her body cold to the crisp air, as her hands clasped both sides of Jaskier's face, and pressed her lips to his.

The witcher cringed, turning away as the pair practically ate the other's face, like starved animals that had been distanced for many years, which in their case was true. "Do you know if the curse is broken, is there any indicator if so?"

A hum fell from y/n's mouth as Jaskier's hand traced the curve of her spine, causing Geralt to scoff. That was the only response he earned, and to a high stake, it disgusted him. "I think I'm just gonna let you two have some time to yourselves, I guess we will see in the morning if you're being mawled by a bear you flippant."

And thus he walked away, leaving the two to pursue their primitive instincts, under the blessed moon, and on the routed curfew on the dark and dead land of Arafell.

[delimeful]

my virtues uncounted (6)

warnings: panic attack, fear, arguing

there will probably be an epilogue after this, but we're nearing the end of this story! :)

-

Virgil floated into consciousness with surprisingly little pain, considering the last thing he remembered was bleeding out from a stab wound.

He wasn’t entirely sure how the others’ returned after discorporating-- they weren’t much in the habit of randomly sharing vulnerabilities-- but for him, it was always rushed, his reformation slapdash at best. It was probably part of being Anxiety: he couldn’t stand the idea of being ‘out of it’ for long, not when anything could be happening to Thomas with his influence muted.

So, he would come back to himself with whatever injury that killed him barely knitted back together, and grit his teeth and bear it for the next few weeks while it slowly healed. One of his recurring nightmares was the Light Sides finding out about it, using it to keep him out of commission to ‘help’ Thomas. It seemed… less likely, after meeting them.

Meeting them. Right. He’d done that.

A low thrum of panic in his gut chased the lingering sleepiness from him, and he pushed himself into a sitting position as quickly as he dared, figuring that he might as well test the boundaries of his lack of stab wound pain before he snuck over to check that the core parts of Thomas had all made it through okay. Or before he encountered Remus again.

The first thing he registered was that there wasn’t any pain, none at all.

The second thing was that everything was proportionally huge around him.

The third thing was that these absolutely were not the Dark Side commons.

His heart rate spiked immediately as he whipped his head around, staring at what could only be the Light Side common area. He’d only caught a glimpse of it before, with the whole ‘bleeding out’ thing, and it looked impossibly different from where he stood on the living room table. Now that he was paying attention, he could feel the way Thomas was so much closer here than in the Subconscious, like the difference between shallow water and the depths.

He shook himself. Now wasn’t the time to get caught up in how much easier core Sides had it. There were bigger things to worry about, literally. He hadn’t discorporated, he was in the Conscious part of the mind, and he was tiny-- through no doing of his own.

Oh. They wanted revenge.

Virgil kicked away the assortment of tiny blankets around him and got to his feet, blood rushing in his ears. He’d been an asshole to them while they were stuck in the Subconscious, so they were returning the favor. Why else would they have healed him and turned him pocket-sized? It was the only explanation that made sense.

The commons were just shy of completely disorienting while empty, so he certainly wasn’t going to stick around for something as overwhelming as a Side to appear. He hurried to the edge of the table, eyeing the drop with no little trepidation. Was he lighter like this, or would he land heavily on the carpet below and break half his bones?

He shouldn’t risk it. No point in doing half the work for his captors.

If he could get a running start to the other end of the table, he might be able to make the jump to the couch, though. From there… maybe pushing a pillow to the ground. Could he even move a pillow at this size?

Another shudder worked its way through him, something small and terrified in the back of his mind shrieking at the way everything around him had changed. Had this been how the others had felt? He shook his head, stepping back from the edge and turning to face the other end of the table. He couldn’t freak out yet. Not until he was safe.

There was a distant phone alarm, the generic sort that Thomas had come to resent after using it for his morning alarm for months on end. Virgil felt a chill of foreboding pass over him, and a heartbeat later, he heard the telltale woosh of one of the core Sides rising up next to the table.

Their shadow fell over Virgil, impossibly large, and he bolted.

There was a voice, but he couldn’t pick out the words past the blood rushing in his ears, his own breathing, and the panicked rush of thoughts that came with picking flight. He focused on the jump ahead instead, the length of table ahead of him growing shorter and shorter until he was nearly to the edge, muscles tensed to leap.

The light around him being blocked out was the only warning he got before his view of the world was suddenly cut off. Half a second later, his momentum was halted by a collision with something soft, warm, and alive. He recoiled as sharply as he could, but there were already what could only be fingers curling around him, his stomach dropping as he was lifted clear off the table’s surface, his center of gravity shifting against his will.

If he hadn’t been panicking before, he certainly was now, his breaths coming shallow and shaky, barely bringing in any air as black spots started to dot his vision.

He was in someone’s hand. They could do anything to him, and he wouldn’t be able to do anything to stop it, would probably deserve it, but it would hurt and couldn’t they have just let him discorporate--

The low, calm voice that had been rumbling in the background paused for a moment, and then they were moving again, his nausea growing as everything moved too fast around him, like a car someone else was driving but a hundred times worse.

And then, abruptly, there was solid ground under his feet again. The hand opened around him.

Virgil dropped to his hands and knees immediately, pressing his forehead against the table to both quell his dizziness and find something to ground himself. He was hyperaware of the warmth emanating from the hand that still bracketed him on one side, like a shield or a threat.

The Side was still talking, though Virgil still couldn’t quite parse the words. Despite his incoherence, the hand didn’t even twitch, no underlying threat to whatever it was they were saying to him. His breathing settled a bit despite himself. The implied promise that they weren’t going to outright attack him shouldn’t have been so reassuring, but it was.

His head slightly clearer, he slowly pushed himself back up to sit back on his heels, looking up to see who had found him.

It was undoubtedly Logan, though he’d never seen those glasses and tie at such a warped scale before. He could have figured it out earlier, if he’d just been listening; neither Roman nor Patton tended to be so carefully enunciated with their words.

Logan’s words, right. He was counting, which confused Virgil for a moment-- was this an experiment? Something to see how long the local idiot spent caught up in a panic attack when he was supposed to be a survival instinct-- until he caught on to the way Logan’s chest rose and fell along with the numbers. A breathing exercise.

He was kind of surprised, in that pleasant ‘pessimist-proven-wrong’ sort of way, but it figured that the Sides up here would offer even their captive literal time to breathe. He let himself follow along with the pattern for a few more moments before clearing his throat roughly and forcing himself to speak.

“Hey.”

Logan paused, looking down at him. “Hello.”

There was a short, slightly awkward pause, in which Logan seemed to flounder while Virgil refused to apologize for being kidnapped and reduced to doll size, even if he’d just had a completely image-ruining breakdown over it.

“Are you alright?” Logan finally settled on, his gaze piercing as it swept over him as though searching for injuries. “I apologize for not warning you, but I needed to stop you from recklessly endangering yourself. I didn’t intend for my actions to trigger a panic attack.”

“Yeah, who would freak out over some little old thing like being picked up by a giant hand,” Virgil snapped back sharply, his sarcasm coming out a little less biting than usual after such a draining attack. “It’s not like I’m the embodiment of Anxiety or anything.”

“You are Anxiety, though.” Logan shifted, the motion jarring his hand slightly, and Virgil barely managed to contain his flinch. “And as such, I’m surprised that you would entertain the idea of unnecessarily trying to fling yourself off of a considerable height at your size.”

Virgil squinted at him, trying to figure out if he was serious. “Unnecessarily?”

“Clearly? I cannot imagine why your first solution would be to attempt something so risky, though it’s possible I’m missing some vital context,” Logan replied, his face scrunching up slightly in confusion. “Perhaps the others--,” he lifted a hand.

“Wait!” A surge of panic forced Virgil to his feet, but it was too late. The summons registered, and Creativity and Morality wasted virtually no time in rising up, both of them instantly looking to him instead of Logan.

“Anxiety!” they both cried, and they didn’t sound mad, but that didn’t really mean anything, did it?

They crowded forward, and Virgil couldn’t keep himself rigid this time, his whole body jerking back and bumping into Logan’s hand.The mixed signals-- hide versus get away-- left him frozen, cowering under that pitiful defense.

“Anxiety?” Patton tried, and the concern in his voice was enough to convince him to look up and meet the other Side’s gaze. “Are you okay, kiddo?”

“I’m stuck in a room with three giants, what do you think?” he spat automatically, his shoulders hunching up like they could protect him.

Patton’s mouth twisted in a sympathetic sort of way, and he moved to sit, scrunching his body down slightly so that he was more-or-less level with the table. “It’s all kind of overwhelming, huh?”

With a simple glance from the moral Side, Roman followed suit and Logan settled back on his heels, having already been kneeling. Virgil stared between the three of them, his skin prickling with nerves.

Behind him, Logan’s hand moved. Virgil immediately crouched, ducking his head down and lifting his arms in an ineffective attempt to ward off whatever was happening. There was a beat of silence, and when he glanced up, he found that Logan had simply retracted his hand, apparently convinced that Virgil wasn’t planning on a repeat of his escape attempt. Or that the three huge Sides surrounding Anxiety was enough of a cage in itself.

“We’re not going to hurt you, Jack and the Beanstalker,” Roman lied, doing an impressive job of sounding confused and harmless. “You’re not in the Subconscious anymore.”

A bitter laugh bubbled up in Virgil, one that he didn’t bother to stifle. “Yeah, right. I’m not an idiot, Princey. Remus got you all twisted up over what he did and I was an asshole and now you’re paying the favor forward, I get it. You don’t have to lie about it.”

The three of them exchanged complicated glances, ones that admittedly looked more upset and horrified than conspiring, but Virgil refused to buy the act.

“We’re not lying to you!” Roman insisted, making Virgil scoff. Patton’s face started to take on that kicked-puppy cast, and Virgil averted his gaze, feeling hot anger bubble up in him at Patton’s involvement. How was any of this right and moral?

“I live with Deceit, you’re not going to fool me. Just get whatever you’re going to do to me over with,” he forced out, grimacing when his voice wobbled slightly at the end.

“Anxiety.” Logan leaned forwards, meeting his gaze with utmost seriousness. “Perhaps it will help if you understand our motives for your current state. Can you tell me how much you remember from our escape?”

“Remus found us and turned me into a pincushion,” Virgil deadpanned, a hand moving to settle over his gut. He knew now that he probably hadn’t discorporated, but he could still barely believe that there was no pain there. Core Sides could just do that? “And then you three decided to turn me pincushion-sized, I guess. How is that not revenge?”

“It was to save your life!” Roman cried dramatically, looking very put-out. “And to keep you from going back to the Subconscious and my brother, y’know, the guy who was tormenting us for fun!”

“To save my-- we can’t die!” Virgil snarled, pushing his complex feelings about Remus down in favor of twisting the fabric of his hoodie in his hands. “You trapped me up here, no room, no powers, no height, and you expected me to be grateful?!”

“We weren’t trying to trap you,” Patton interjected, looking between him and Roman worriedly. “And we aren’t going to hurt you, I promise.”

Roman, who had drawn himself up in outraged offense, visibly deflated. “Patton’s right. You know he wouldn’t lie to you about something like this.”

Virgil hesitated despite himself.

“The problem of your current stature is one that we know how to fix,” Logan took the opportunity to add, fiddling with his tie. “Once you summon your room to this level of the mind, you will be able to find security and power within it, and we won’t bother you while you recover your lost energy.”

“Woah, woah,” Virgil held his hands up to stall further explanation, feeling thrown off. “Who said anything about putting my room up here?”

Roman raised a disbelieving eyebrow. “What, you want to be that size around a vengeful Remus?”

“I wouldn’t be this size if you hadn’t meddled!” Virgil snapped, scowling fiercely

“We weren’t going to just let you die,” Patton burst out, looking downright distraught. “You saved us. You didn’t want to rise up and you knew it would make your friends upset, but you did it anyhow. It wouldn’t be right, to just… not try to save you back!”

Virgil gaped for a moment, his next prepared retort completely upended. “No, I… that’s my job. Of course I did that. You don’t owe me for it.”

“Anxiety, Roman prevented your discorporation because he wanted to help you. Not to repay a perceived debt,” Logan informed him, his words stiff but genuine.

Roman shot Logan a look, heaving a dramatic sigh before turning back to Virgil. “All of us wanted to help, Gloomy B. Jones. Who wouldn’t choose to revive a party member who nearly perished heroically on a quest?”

In what universe was Roman calling him a hero? Inside his hoodie pocket, Virgil pinched himself, his confusion rising when everything refused to turn out to be a dream. Even a terrible plot twist like that would be more understandable to him than whatever was happening right now.

For that matter, they couldn’t really be implying what he thought they were implying.

“You really want me to pull my room up here. And be a… a core Side.”

Looking from face to face, he found no trace of anger or mockery, only earnestness. A genuine offer. He shook his head, his heart somehow racing even harder.

“What about when I have to do the other part of my job? The part you guys all hate me for?” he reminded them harshly. “I bet you won’t be so keen on my presence then.” He could easily imagine how well that would go over. Could a Side be cast out from both parts of the mind?

Patton shuffled forward a bit, his hands flapping like he wanted to reach out reassuringly but knew that Virgil would absolutely lose his shit if he even tried. “It’s like you said, kiddo. You want to keep Thomas safe, and we want that, too!”

“You’ve more than proven yourself willing to compromise when it counts,” Logan said, and then added wryly, “Statistically, the three of us already spend a fair amount of our time arguing before we come to a decision anyways.”

“Seriously?” Virgil asked, and Logan gestured to the necktie emphatically.

“That’s right! You may be as contrary as your jittery little heart desires, and you’ll still be in excellent company,” Roman piped up, gesturing to himself magnanimously. After a moment, he let the posturing fade into something more serious. “Anxiety, we don’t have to agree on everything for you to deserve better. Won’t you at least give us a chance?”

Virgil scrubbed his hands through his hair roughly, turning away despite his misgivings. Apart from that first incident with Logan, they hadn’t grabbed him, hadn’t even touched him despite knowing that he couldn’t do anything to stop them. At some point between that first disastrous meeting and now, they’d stopped treating him like an enemy.

He’d have to go back down there and explain at some point, but he couldn’t deny that the idea of not being repressed was one that seemed almost too good to be true. Deceit wouldn’t be happy, but maybe this would be the proof they all needed, that separating the Sides and hiding some of them from Thomas wasn’t working as well as they pretended it did.

It could be an opportunity. It could be… good.

“Alright,” he said, turning back to where they’d all been waiting, “I’ll pull my room up. I’ll-- I’ll try. That’s the best you’re going to get.”

And as the others cheered or smiled victoriously, he felt like maybe it was worth a shot after all.

[christinesficrecs]

A very long list of updated snowed in fic recs for @starsandmoony​ 💜

On my Way by Gia279 | 17.9K

Huge black paws smacked the window, followed by a fuzzy face smooshing up against it.

He scrambled over the gear shift, tipping into the passenger seat. Bear, he thought hysterically. It had to be a bear, a freaking bear.

A big pink tongue rolled out, lips pulling back as the creature panted.

I’ve got chills... They’re multiplying! by DropsOfAddiction | 12.3K | Explicit

Derek is literally wrapped around him, one heavy leg and one heavy arm pinning him tight to Derek‘s front.

Warm and steady breaths tickle the back of Stiles’ neck. He tries not to freak out and he wonders how he’s going to extract himself without waking Derek. He totally isn’t ready to face into this conversation.

Stiles stretches gently and Derek grumbles clutching him tighter in his sleep. Stiles tries not to yelp when Derek buries his face in the back of his neck.

Well fuck.

One Star Awake by zjofierose | 9.5K 

When Stiles gets stranded in the snow one dark and snowy night, he's in real danger. Fortunately, he gets rescued by a man on a horse.

Emergency Contact by bewarethesmirk | 1.2K

“Derek here hasn’t left your side,” the nurse coos, and Derek glares at her back. “You’re so lucky to have such an adoring husband.”

snow day by kellifer_fic | 8.3K

“It’s not a big deal. It just happens when I’m… cold,” Stiles offers, scratching gingerly at his head with a claw and then grimacing at it like it’s betraying him.

“Are you serious?”

“Hey, who are you to judge, wolfman?”

Your love warms me up by Smowkie | 1.2K

“At least it’s slowing down,” Stiles said, his lips slightly blue tinted and his teeth clacking.

“Yeah,” Derek said. Stiles had his arm hooked with Derek’s, and he was stumbling a little as they walked. “Come on, keep walking, keep warm.”

“Yeah, keep walking,” Stiles agreed.

Derek didn’t like how weak he sounded.

In the Dark Midwinter, Light by rhysiana | 3.7K | Mature

Really, Derek and Stiles being sent to an empty druid's cabin to fetch a book for Deaton and then getting snowed in could have gone so, so much worse.

it doesn't have to be a snowman by triggeringthehealing (froggydarren) | 4.9K

The Beacon Beans coffee shop is what Stiles would refer to as a lifesaver. They supply his dose of sugar whenever he needs it, they don't ask questions, and their hot chocolate is delicious.

And now they're running a snowman building competition where the grand prize would get him an entire year's worth of drinks. Really, all he needs is a partner to team up with. Only everyone else from the pack already seems to have paired up.

three words have never come easy by the_problem_with_stardust | 1.5K | Mature

If someone had told Derek five years ago that Stiles Stilinski would be the one living in a secluded cabin in the woods, Derek never would have believed them. Even now, he had a hard time reconciling his memories of Stiles as a high schooler with the young man who preferred the quiet found amongst the trees.

Whenever he’d inquired, Stiles had just smiled that enigmatic smile, so like Deaton or Morrell, and said something about being unable to think around the bustle of town.

“Don’t you dare throw that snowba-, goddammit!” by  jadore_hale | 2.3K

“I’m sorry,” Stiles sighed heavily, coming back down to earth, “But when you woke me up this morning and said that we needed to go out into the woods and find the evil Snow Witch that brought this shit here, I thought that was your emotionally stunted way of saying come build a snowman with me.”

In The Arms of A Werewolf by  literaryoblivion | 9.2K

“You have got to be kidding me.”

Stiles is flabbergasted. How is this even possible? Werewolves he can take. Poisonous lizard creatures, sure. Once dead, now living creepy werewolf uncles, bit of a stretch but he can roll with it. Sacrificing ancient druids that masquerade as teachers, okay fine. But this?

An honest to god abominable snowman? In Beacon Hills, California no less?

Nope.

Winter Storm Stiles by  42hrb | 2K

Stiles isn’t looking forward to weathering his first snow storm on his own, then he meets a handsome stranger at the grocery store who might be able to help.

Find Me Sitting Fireside by  kaistrex (weishen) | 13.2K

With the news that an Alpha wants Beacon Hills for their own, Derek and Stiles are forced to attend a couples retreat at a ski resort to learn their enemy’s identity. However, the threat is the least of Derek’s problems when he’s expected to fake a relationship, share a bed and suffer through candlelit dinners with the man he’s secretly been in love with for the past four years.

Waiting for Winter by  Twice_Shy (notboldly) | 3.2K

Everyone had a soulmark, a special shape on their body that formed during childhood and was meant to lead each person to their soulmate.

Unfortunately, Derek’s soulmark is shaped like a snowflake, and that fact has been actively ruining his life since he was six years old.

world tilts by  wearing_tearing | 1.5K

The guy is gorgeous as hell, and Stiles kind of wishes he could stare at him forever.

He figures he deserves a treat after almost slipping to his death.

Wait, What? by  wangler | 5.3K

When a significant portion of the Beacon Hills Preserve ends up coated in three entire inches of snow, the pack looks into it. If by looking into it one means packing a bunch of garbage bags and huge Tupperware lids into the back of Stiles’ Jeep to go look for a decent sledding hill. Things go sideways, because of course they do.

A Very Sterek Christmas by  TobyRosetta | 13.5K

It’s actually snowing in Beacon Hills, and it’s got everyone out of whack. Out of the kindness of his own heart, Stiles decides to take some things up to the the old Hale Mansion for old Sourwolf himself. But when the storm kicks up and snows them both in, the night takes an interesting turn.

Blanketed by  got_the_bite | 3.3K

“Stiles, where are you?” Derek demands again. His voice is higher than usual Stiles notes.

“You would be such a nice tenor if you joined a choir,” Stiles thinks aloud.

But In Case I Stand One Little Chance by  mikkimouse | 8.6K

Stiles’s Jeep breaks down in the middle of the snowstorm. He’s rescued by his high school crush, and as the cherry on top, is trapped in a cabin with said crush until the roads clear.

Fuck his life.

Snow Flirting by thepsychicclam | 11,396

As Beacon Hills get pounded with foot after foot of snow, single dad Stiles can't quite keep up with his four year old, his job, and shoveling his driveway. Derek makes his teenage son shovel Stiles' walk, and that just leads to Derek helping Stiles out with a whole bunch of other tasks. That's okay with Derek, though, cause any chance to be with Stiles is okay with him.

Baby, It's Cold Outside by Jebiwonkenobi | 2,791

Beacon Hills has a snow storm. Totally-not-cuddling happens.

Come Fly With Me (Or Don't) by stilinskisparkles | 15,325

Stiles is overworked and stressed out when his flight home gets delayed due to copious amounts of snow. He finds entertainment with one Derek Hale, whom he hasn't seen since high school but really doesn't mind getting reacquainted with.

Especially when it turns out Derek is surprisingly hilarious and will reluctantly play snap with him. And can walk on his hands.

The Man in the Snow by mikkimouse | 15,894

Derek finds a young man injured in a ravine on the border of his ranch. That's strange enough, but the mystery only deepens when the young man wakes up without any memory of what he was doing out there.

Blizzard Boyfriend by literaryoblivion | 1,897

With a record-breaking snowstorm on the horizon, threatening a city shutdown for a few days, Stiles gets the bright idea to put an ad up on craigslist for someone to spend his snow days with that would be filled with cuddling, movies, alcohol, and potential makeouts or more.

It's a joke until someone responds.

and home before dark by verity | 3,175

The mystery of the absent Hale brother was hardly a mystery at all until he appeared at last, set on taking up residence out in the woods.

(In which Derek is a hedgewitch. With a cat.)

Let it snow! Let it snow! (but please let it stop eventually) by relenafanel | 19,123

Stiles grew up with his bedroom window overlooking Derek's bedroom, so when he returns home for the holidays he's surprised to find a stranger in his nerdy neighbour's bedroom.

Only, he's not much of a stranger.

It is Derek Hale, the guy who is going to be his new step brother, if the rumours are true.

Red Against the Snow by Ember | 34,219

Stiles is trapped for the holidays in the cabin of a strange man/hermit named Derek. A strangely friendly wolf befriends Stiles during his stay. It's up to the teenager to find out why Derek has secluded himself from society, what the feelings he's beginning to have means, and what the connection between the mysterious man and the mysterious black wolf is.

an exaltation of larks by llassah | 25,370

All Derek wants is to get through the lambing season with his body and spirit intact. He had thought that the blizzards would be the main danger, not a highborn omega with beautiful eyes and a stubborn streak.

The flamingo in the yard by Vendelin | 6,107

It isn't fair that Stiles needs to work Christmas, when his dad is on the other side of the country. Or that his really hot, next door neighbour is around for the holidays as well. Or that there's a power outage that makes things even worse. Or better.

(Fake) Winter Weather Brings Us Together by tylerfucklin (zimothy) | 10,535

So naked cuddling with Derek while suffering from hypothermia wasn't really on Stiles' to-do list for the week, but neither was that kiss--so who was Stiles to complain?

It's a Wild Pitch (But He's a Contact Hitter) by jettiebettie | 11,828

They're combating supernatural forces with blunt instruments now. Seems legit. As long as Stiles doesn't end up getting frostbite, he's willing to roll with it. Not that his friends have to worry about that. Fucking werewolves.

Abominable by Revenant | 20,277

Where Derek buys a secluded cabin halfway up a mountain, meets a yeti and falls in love with Stiles, but not necessarily in that order.

stilinski v. a. snowman | tumblr ficlet

This fic was inspired by this prompt: ‘we’re stuck in a log cabin overnight during a snowstorm bc of some stupid school team building exercise and it’s freEzing and I can’t sleep and you can hear me shivering in the next bed so you pick me up and dump in your bed and good grief you are hot in every sense of the word’ au

[captains-simp]

@tomy5girls

Fhskdhwksnsns I accidently posted this before I was done writing it 🤡🤡🤡

I love Wanda so the first part took me ages to write but writing soft Carol made this either the messiest or best fic I've ever written

"Do I mean that little to you?"

"Was it all a lie?"

"I think I'm inlove with you."

Warnings: cheating and me fucking around with the MCU timeline regarding when characters are introduced

6.7k words

[ masterlist ]

Buy me a coffee ☕

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Your relationship with Wanda had always been far from perfect. It was evenings like that difficult one that made you reflect on just how many red flags you had ignored. You had chosen to live your life with her in blissful ignorance, thinking it would work out.

But as time went on there were things that were harder to ignore. Things that hurt you to notice, both about Wanda and yourself. You thought they would go away. They only ever got worse.

That night was the final straw. You couldn't deny the issues that had been growing like weeds in your relationship for a year when you walked into your appartment to see Wanda's head between another girl's legs.

You didn't feel mad. Or upset. You felt empty. Empty at the long awaited realisation that you had committed to the wrong thing.

You didn't say anything, too shocked to know what to say and not knowing if you would even be capable of stringing a sentence together.

The woman's eyes flickered open and met yours and in that brief moment you saw the familiar look of lust before it turned to fear. She roughly pushed Wanda away as she looked anywhere but you and moved away from your soon to be ex girlfriend.

Wanda gave her a questioning look before whipping her head around to see you after following the woman's uncontaminated glances. She stood up instantly and straightened her shirt while the woman on the couch got dressed.

"You're home." Was the first thing Wanda said. Yeah. You were definetly done.

"I am." Your mouth was dryer than sandpaper but you somehow managed to say that.

"I should..." The woman muttered as she awkwardly glanced between you and Wanda before rushing past you and out the door.

Neither you nor Wanda spoke for a while. You were still looking at her, searching for any signs of...anything. She didn't meet your eye. She made no attempt to defend herself. To defend your relationship. It was downright heartbreaking.

You needed to sit down, but there was no way you were sitting where Wanda had just been. Not that knowing what Wanda had done on that couch had bothered you before.

You left the hallway to wander aimlessly towards your bedroom, knowing you weren't the only one Wanda had fucked in that bed, but you had never had to see that.

She followed you into the room, more trailing really. There was no urgency to her pace and she still didn't speak. Did she really not care?

You sat down on the bed and stared at the floor, mot knowing what to feel. Wanda didn't sit next to you. She made no move to comfort you. You didn't need comfort, not from her. You needed an explanation.

"When did it start?" You wanted to ask how many, but you already knew the truth would hurt too much. The ones you knew about were enough.

"I don't know." Wanda huffed. She sounded frustrated, as though you were wasting her time. That finally pissed you off.

"I deserve an explanation, Wanda." You said clearly, keeping your voice surprisingly steady as you looked up at her. She still didn't look back.

"What's done is done." She said simply.

"Do I mean that little to you?" Tears sprung to your eyes as you said that. Wondering for the first time if Wanda had really ever cared about you.

When Wanda finally looked at you you wished she hadn't. Her eyes were full of pity, watching you like a stray puppy in the rain. She moved forward and sat down next to you on the edge of the bed.

"I loved you." You didn't fail to notice the past tense, it cut through you like a knife. "But I wasn't ready." You had started dating so soon after Ultron. At the time you knew Wanda was grieving badly, you had questioned if it was best for her to dive into a relationship the way she had in that state.

Her self-confidence and driven nature always put your mind to rest. There were red flags before the relationship had even started.

"When you realised that...you didn't have to stay." Your voice wavered slightly.

"I know that." God the pitifulness was even in her voice.

"So why did you?" You held your breath waiting for that an answer. Wanda took a few seconds to consider that, like she wasn't quite sure herself.

"I like being around you." She sounded truthful, but you didn't allow yourself to believe her.

"When you weren't around them." You couldn't help the bitter tone that crept into your voice. Wanda didn't like that. Thinking she actually had any right to be mad at you.

"Oh for the- we had fun, didn't we? It's not like it was a complete waste of our time!" She exclaimed, standing up to face you.

"I wasn't dating you for fun, Wanda. It was so much more than that. I wasn't just someone for you to fuck like all of those girls, I was your girlfriend!" You felt proud at what you had said. You were right. About all of it. You were especially right to use the past tense. Something you didn't think you could manage to do. But that pride was short lived.

"You were a distraction!" You froze. Every fibre of your being turning ice cold from her words. You and Wanda stared at each other for felt like an eternity. She didn't take it back. There was an unreadable expression painted on her face. You knew it wasn't regret.

That's all you ever were to her? A distraction? Everything you thought you had...

"Was it all a lie?" You whispered. You hated the question. You would hate the answer. But you had to know.

Wanda's expression faulted and for a second the pitifulness returned. It was quickly pushed to the side when she spoke again, remaining stoic.

"Call it what you want." You bit the inside of your mouth in an attempt to stop your bottom lip trembling as you finally looked away.

"I'd like you to go. We're done." You whispered, turning away from her.

She left without another word. Her boots thudding against the floor as she walked away in the purposeful way she failed to show you that night.

The door to your appartment clicked shut before you broke down into tears.

*

You had gotten a hotel room that night, unable to stay in your own home. You couldn't lay in your bed without wondering how many people had been in it. Wondering how fewer it would have been if you had just confronted Wanda about it when you first knew. But you didn't, and those months of heartbreak were finally coming to the surface.

You arranged for time off of work once you got back to your appartment. Once that was done you flipped over the couch cushions, retrieved your toasted pop tarts and sat down to watch your comfort show under a bundle of blankets.

It worked for a while. The plates (yes plural) full of pop tarts and the hours of TV took the edge off of the numbness you were feeling. That was until a text from Carol brought you back to reality.

Care Bear: you okay?

You smiled a little. Carol was definetly something that would provide you with comfort, living up to her nickname as always. But she worked with Wanda, and the last thing you wanted was to make her life awkward.

Carol was your best friend. She was Wanda's friend too. That was how you had met. After Ultron Carol had introduced you to Wanda at one of Tony's parties. She had even been a wingwoman for Wanda, you pondered over what Carol would do if she knew Wanda had cheated.

The blonde had always been protective of you. It was sweet. Especially the small acts she never even noticed she did. Like standing closer to you when you were in a room full of self righteous jerks. Always being the one to catch you when you tripped over thin air, even if she was preciously on the other side of the room. Knowing when you were uncomfortable in social situations and casually taking you away from them in the most subtle manner that didn't cause a scene. You had never been able to confide in anyone like you could with her. Not even Wanda, although that was probably because she never shared either.

You: 👍 :)

Care Bear: --_--

Care Bear: Wanda's here

You bit your lip as your thumbs danced over the keyboard; evaluating the best response. You were surprised Wanda was even at the Avenger's headquarters. You had assumed she would be spending her nights with random hookups for a while rather than just one night. She finally had the full freedom to do that but she went back to the Avenger's Headquarters instead?

You: she okay?

Care Bear: I haven't seen her since she went to her room, doesn't seem to be in a talkative mood

Care Bear: you guys okay? 👀

Carol never liked to pry into yours and Wanda's relationship. She always let you confide in her. But in the cases where it was obvious something had happened between you, she checked in on you in the least subtle ways. Carol was smooth in a lot of way, but that was not one of them. It had become a joke between you and Carol ended up embracing it.

You: we broke up

Care Bear: CHSKSBSKSBAMZBMZDBAL

Care Bear: I'm on my way!!

Care Bear: or I can give you space to mope?

You couldn't help but smile at Carol's messages. Your reply was instant. You would love to have Carol binge shows and eat trash food with you.

You: come mope with me :(

Carol confirmed she was on her way less than a minute later and you got up to toast the last of your pop tarts and get a drink.

You weren't sure how soon Carol arrived on your balcony. You were sure very few things had made you happier than the sight of your goofy friend proudly holding up a multipack of poptarts while dressed in her sweatpants and goose t-shirt. The shirt was one you had gifted her for Christmas one year and if she wasn't wearing her Captain Marvel uniform, she was most likely wearing that shirt.

You got up to open the sliding door for her as you suppressed a chuckle. Carol appearing on your balcony without warning had stopped scaring you around the ninth time it happened. That was about the time you stopped trying to convince her to just use the stairs like everyone else.

As soon as she was in your appartment she threw the box to the couch and enveloped you in a bear hug. You wrapped your arms around her middle and closed your eyes as you held onto her. You smiled at the familiar smell of vanilla and cat hairs, being so easily comforted by it.

"Are you okay?" She muttered into your shoulder.

"I am." You said truthfully. You hadn't slept well the previous night, even at the hotel. You had cried for a while. But the next day you had felt better, as though a weight had been lifted from.your chest. You were still hurting, but you would be just fine.

Carol pulled away and rested her hands on your shoulders as she studied you, trying to find any evidence of a lie. Upon finding none she nodded and smiled at you kindly. That was something you loved about Carol. She never pitied you, even when the worst happened. She was sympathetic and supportive and never condescending. 

"What are we watching?" Carol asked as she picked up the box on the couch and took it over to your toaster. She knew you wouldn't want to talk about Wanda yet. She would wait for you to bring it up. Until then, she would act as though you were moping because you were sick rather than the reality.

You replied to her with your comfort show that she had grown familiar with and sat back down on the couch with the blanket over you. Carol soon returned with two plates of pop tarts (it wasn't like you had eaten anything else) and two hot chocolates. What you really craved was some alcohol but you decided to leave that till later on.

Your blonde friend sat back down next to you when you lifted the blanket for her. She instantly brought her legs up under her and put her arm around you. You easily leant into her and rested your head on her shoulder before she leant her own head on yours.

Neither of you spoke for a while. Carol occasionally laughed at something on the TV and you found yourself smiling at the sound of her laughter more than the show. It had always been contagious.

Wait. Should you of been smiling that much for someone who had walked in on their girlfriend cheating less than 24 hours prior? Probably not. But then again. You had seen it coming. All the signs prior had softened the blow.

"You alright?" Carol asked again as a whisper as she pretended to keep most of her focus on the show.

You hummed in response and fiddled with the edge of the blanket for a while until you spoke.

"She cheated." You muttered. You could feel Carol freeze. Her whole body tensed up making her as stiff as a plank. Her shoulder wasn't as comfy when that happened. "But it's okay." You assured.

Carol took ahold of both your empty plates and placed them on the table before turning her body towards you so she could see you better.

"That's never something that can just be 'okay', y/n." Carol said in a gentle tone.

"I know but...I already knew before... before I saw." You could hear Carol breathing heavily as you avoided her gaze.

"Christ, y/n." She whispered. "Why didn't you ever say anything?"

"I don't know I just...I guess I thought if I ignored it it would go away." Upon reflection you really weren't sure why you never addressed it.

Carol didn't say anything at that. You glanced up nervously to see her looking deep in thought, trying to understand what you meant. Carol was never one to hope things would go away. Her life as a hero had taught her to comfront every obstacle she faced.

"And you saw her..."

"Yeah, I did. I thought I could handle knowing what she was doing behind my back but actually seeing it...it was hard." Carol breathed out hard as though she had been holding her breath and pulled you into another of her infamous bear hugs. You wrapped your arms around her again and squeezed your eyes shut.

The blonde gently stroked your back in soothing circles until you moved away, not wanting to but knowing Carol wouldn't move away first and Lord knows how long you would have ended up staying like that.

"And you're really feeling okay about it?" Carol asked with a slightly furrowed brow, reading your face for any trace of a lie as you spoke.

"Yeah." You smiled assuringly. You didn't feel like telling Carol the rest. About how you had only ever been a distraction to Wanda. But there was something else you wanted to admit. "It was for the best." You started. Carol could tell something more was coming so she sat up a little straighter to show you you had her full attention. "Even before I figured out I what she was doing things just didn't feel entirely right with Wanda. She was great, but it always felt like something was missing." Carol didn't show any reaction to that. She seemed surprisingly stoic, like she was trying to suppress something. You figured it was probably just that she was thinking about what you had said.

"Enough about all that though." You said when Carol hadn't spoken. "You never got to tell me about your super amazing mission last month." Carol's eyes lit up at the mention of her successful mission.

There were some missions she wasn't allowed to talk about. Some she could. And some she could eventually talk about. Her last one was the latter and once she was clear to tell you about it she did, in great detail and the most animated way. It had been one of her best missions and you were incredibly proud. But you were interrupted by a false alarm at the Headquarters before she could finish.

You loved hearing about Carol's work that she was passionate about. You loved hearing how she could handle herself out there. Recalling some of those missions put your mind to rest when you hadn't heard from her in a long time. And you needed the distraction. Carol knew that.

You listened to Carol intently with a smile but the stress and upset of the previous events had you suddenly feeling very tired. Your eyelids began to feel very heavy and your head became empty as you felt yourself drifting off to sleep.

*

You woke up in your own bed, beyond comfused. You couldn't remember getting into bed or falling asleep. Still in a half asleep state, you tried to recall the events of the night until you remembered Carol. Had she carried you to bed? Had she left?

Your heart ached at the thought that your best friend wasn't there. Refusing to believe it, you wrapped your duvet tightly around you and trudged out of your room.

She was sleeping soundly on your couch with the blanket you had been curled up together under. You smiled at the sight of her looking so peaceful, taking a moment to consider yourself the luckiest person alive to have a friend as caring as Carol.

You came back to your sense when you realised how creepy it felt to be standing over your best friend and staring at her sleep, not to mention how freaked out she would be if she awoke to your duvet covered silhouette. But you didn't want to leave her side.

Carol stirred when she felt you kneeling on the couch. Countless nights of sleeping next to her had taught you she was a fairly light sleeper. You were thankful that she wasn't startled by you kneeling over her as you adjusted your blanket.

"Y/n?" She muttered as she rubbed her eyes to try to see you better.

"Go back to sleep." You murmmered back before laying down on her stomach and holding the duvet over you both.

You felt so at home in her arms. She didn't protest to you and instead wrapped her arms around your back and closed her eyes again with a content smile.

You rested your head in the crook of her neck and soon drifted back to sleep. Carol, on the other hand, struggled to sleep for a while. You had slept in the same bed before, countless times, but you had never been so close together when you did. It had never felt so intimate.

It was making the butterflies that had started arriving years ago whenever you were around dance around happily. As much as Carol tried to ignore them, her feelings for you only ever grew.

*

Over the next few days Carol visited you a lot. You had always been happy to spend time with your friend, but in those days you appreciated her company even more. In fact you were pretty sure you craved it.

She checked in on you often and stayed the night when you asked her to. You tried not to be too clingy with your friend, knowing she had a busy life and a lot of responsibilities to take care of and you didn't want to keep her away from her hero life.

It made the moments you could spend with her even better. You had always had that thought process with Carol, but it was enhanced since the night you slept ontop of her on the couch - something she never commented on.

You mainly spent your time together in your appartment, but on that day Carol had another idea.

"I promise it's safe." Carol grinned at you as you looked over your balcony for the umpteenth time in the last five minutes. You never really realised how high the sixth floor was until your friend was encouraging you to jump off your balcony with her.

"You need to get out of that appartment." Carol insisted.

"I could go on a walk to do that! You know...like a normal person." Carol laughed at your defiance to try what she had offered.

"Just five minutes, you'll love it." Carol said genuinely as she took ahold of your hand. You had never realised how her hands seemed to fit perfectly in your own before. You smiled at the sensation of a slight tingling in your hand upon contact with Carol's.

"Ease off." You giggled, shaking Carol's hand.

"I'm not doing anything." Carol protested earnestly, giving you a comfused look. You gulped and tried not to think about what the feeling was. "If you don't like it I'll bring you right back, you're safe with me - the Strongest Avenger." She said with a cocky grin, she had heard someone say it once and it went straight to her head. You rolled your eyes at her with a smile then paused, biting your lip as you considered the offer properly.

"Okay." You breathed out.

"Okay?" Carol asked with an excited grin.

"What the hell, sure!" You exclaimed. Carol chuckled and went to stand behind you. The material of her suit pressed against your bare arms and made you shiver slightly, you assumed from nerves. Carol had told you you didn't need to wear a jacket or coat, claiming her powers would keep you warm.

She wrapped her arms around your waist to hold you tightly against her and you gripped onto her forearms, not being able to stop yourself smiling.

"You ready?" Carol asked as the yellow swirls started to surround Carol and heat up your back and stomach. Blue and red glimmers occasionally appeared amongst the swirls and you tried not to get too distracted by the beauty of Carol's powers.

The next thing you knew your feet were slowly leaving the ground until the tips of your shoes were an inch away from the floor. You felt weightless and couldn't help but laugh a little at the absurdity that you were floating on thin air.

"Okay?" Carol checked.

"Okay." You confirmed.

As soon as the word left your mouth you felt like you were being catapulted through the air. Wind whipped your hair across your face and everything was a blur. All you could focus on was the whirling colours and Carol's strong grip on your waist.

You were going directly upwards for a few seconds until Carol eased you both forwards slightly, angled so you could finally take in your surroundings.

The speed at which you had been going to get so high in such a short amount of time was insane. It was impossible to know exactly how high up you were, all you knew was the faint clouds in the nighttime sky were closer to you than the ground. A lot closer.

The small gaps amongst the thin layers of clouds gave a glimpse at the stars that shimmered above you. The view below was just as breath-taking.

The city was lit up by the lights emitting from each building, each playing a part in the beautiful display. The lights shimmered and twinkled just as the stars did, the two very different worlds having the same beauty from such a height.

As Carol leveled herself out more you felt your legs drop infront of you and away from Carol. Your grip on the hero tightened in response to the new position.

"Do you trust me?" Carol asked carefully. You nodded, not knowing what your friend was planning but knowing you would go along with whatever she had planned.

One moment Carol had her reassuring grip on your waist, guiding you through the night air, and the next she was gone. You plummeted through the air in an instant, a silent scream escaping your throat. You squeezed your eyes shut tightly, not wanting to see the world spinning as you fell, but as soon as you were falling you were safe again.

You landed on Carol's back surprisingly lightly. You blinked a few times in shock, not understanding what had happened until you realised that Carol was flying horizontally and the position allowed you both to have a much better view and in a better position.

You sighed with a grin as stared down at the city in awe, your eyes occasionally flickering up to the dark sky. You rested your head in the crook of Carol's neck and wrapped your arms around her front, easing into her as easily as you had that night on the couch.

It was the happiest you had felt in such a long time. You felt safe with Carol, even from such a dangerous height and the whole event had you feeling more relaxed and content than you could ever remember.

A warmth spread over your body as the pair of you gently flew over the city. While you wanted to believe it was from Carol's powers, you knew deep down that that wasn't it. Because you had had that warmth for Carol on the coldest nights, you had had it when she was on the other side of the room, it had been there for as long as you could remember. And it was only getting stronger.

*

It didn't take anymore encouragement to get back into your usual way of life without any issues. Thanks to Carol there didn't seem to be much difference. The times that you would have been spending with Wanda you spent with Carol. She knew you were okay and that you didn't need her to mope around with you anymore - not that you had really ended up doing that together much. But you wanted her with you; she seemed to want to be with you too.

While you had slept in the same bed multiple times since you had on the couch, you never cuddled close to her like you did before. You knew that if you did that warmth would return. You knew, deep down, what it meant. However you had no idea if Carol's feelings for you were anything more than platonic, it was a line you weren't willing to cross, so you pushed those feelings to the side as much as you could.

Despite your efforts, those mornings you woke up next to your friend you found that you had your head resting on her shoulder or an arm hooked around her waist or one of your legs tangled with hers. She never seemed to mind, in fact one time you could have sworn you saw her eyes drop when you separated yourself from her. You told yourself you were just seeing things that weren't there.

So one night when Carol casually invited you to an Avenger's party you almost choked on your popcorn. You had always gotten along with the team - ever since the mix up on the mission that had led you to meet them and Carol. You had been to a fair few of those parties in the time you had been friends, but that party would be different.

Carol had assured you that no one else on the team knew exactly what had happened between you and Wanda. Your friend knew you didn't want people knowing and Wanda wasn't about to announce it, all the team knew was that you had broken up.

"You don't have to." Carol said quickly. "Wanda will be there." She informed in unimportant fact kind of way. "I just thought it would be nice for you to see everyone again. They miss you."

"They do?" Even thought you had known the Avengers for years, you still couldn't help but be a insecure before seeing them. You didn't have any powers or training. You always wondered what you could possibly bring to their table. Those worries were always put to rest once you were settled in, the smiles on their faces and laughter they emitted when you saw them was hard to fake. Besides, it wasn't like they had any reason to fake it.

You very quickly stopped being insecure when it came to Carol though. You had spent so much time together and knew each other so well that you never worried what she thought of you. She reminded you often of the traits she loved so much, it had been something you had started.

"I'd love to go." You smiled at Carol then went back to the screen. You never liked to make things awkward with exes. It wasn't like you and Wanda were going to become best buddies any time soon, but you were determined to be civil. You just hoped she would be too.

"Great." Carol concluded after studying you for a bit, wanting to be absolutely sure that it was what you wanted. "I'll pick you up at eight on Saturday."

"It's in two days?" You exclaimed, turning to Carol with a horrified expression.

"It is?" Carol confirmed in a not-too-sure tone, not understanding what the big deal was.

"Jeeze, Carol, give a girl a better warning next time." You huffed as you leant back against the couch. The blonde chucked next to you and muttered an apology.

Carol continued watching the film she had put on while you planned when and where you would get an outfit. You knew the dress code of those parties, that wouldn't be an issue, but part of you wanted to match with Carol.

"What are you going to wear?" You asked casually.

"Haven't decided yet."

Damn. You would just have to wing it.

*

Carol knocked on your door at exactly eight o'clock on the night of the party. You were startled at the sound of it at first, not expecting her to actually use the door for once.

You opened the door with a wide grin on your face but felt as though you had the breath knocked out of you when you saw your friend. She was wearing a tailored dark y/f/c suit with a neat white blouse. Her hair was slightly tossled and hung loose around her shoulders. It all went perfectly with her familiar warm smile. She looked beautiful.

Carol's outfit was strikingly similar to your own y/f/c dress that was a much lighter tone but the similarity was still there.

"H-hey." You stuttered as you continued to take in her outfit.

"Hey yourself." Carol grinned smugly, not oblivious to your stare.

"You look...really...amazing." You couldn't help but say. It was the truth.

"You look really amazing too." Carol said a lot more easily than you did. You giggled and stepped out of your appartment and locked it.

"Milady." Carol said in a terrible English accent as she offered her arm for you to hold.

"Milord." You went along and put your arm easily through hers before you started walking down the hallway, unable to contain your smile at the childish and loveable act.

*

When you arrived at the party you were bombarded with people wanting to talk to Carol. You had grown used to that, but it was still a downer when you wanted to stay by Carol, at least for a while.

Eventually, you were summoned away from your friend by the Avengers who were eager to catch up with you after so long.

"How've you been?" Nat asked with a welcoming hug as she outstretched her arms I'm an open hug.

"I've been pretty great." You replied honestly as you hugged her tightly. There was no one you were closer to than Carol, but Nat was someone you considered a friend without a doubt.

"What about you?" You asked genuinely as you pulled away.

"Same old." Nat smiled in her familiar way she saved for those she knew rather than the strangers in the room she had to play nice with.

You talked to Nat for a while as though nothing had changed. You hadn't seen Wanda and you had no idea where she was and no one mentioned her. You were thankful there wasn't any tension around the group. They all talked to you in the same way they always had with the exception of them asking about Carol more. You kept missing their knowing smiles hidden behind their drinks.

After a while you and Tony had your own convosation and it seemed as though being around the others was the only kind of self control he had when it came to refraining talking about relationships. As soon as you two were left alone he didn't hesitate to start saying what he had been thinking.

"Hey, don't get me wrong, you and Wanda seemed great, but I always thought it would be you and Carol who would end up together." Tony said as though he was voicing a passing thought.

"Me and Carol?" You tried to ask smoothly. Admittedly you had been thinking a lot about what it would be like to date Carol. You couldn't seem to stop your mind wandering at night to imagining scenarios with her in which you were dating. It always made you smile so your cheeks hurt until you reminded yourself it wasn't real. Carol would never see you that way, would she?

"Well I didn't see it until Nat pointed it out. Then we actually all kind of assumed you were dating before you and Wanda became a thing." Tony continued in his casual manner before taking another sip of his drink.

"Really?" You looked over at Nat who was talking to Carol. Nat seemed as though she was trying to convince Carol to do something because the blonde had the conflicked look upon her face that always appeared when she had been thinking long and hard about something.

"You certainly acted like it." Tony snickered as he followed your line of sight. As if on cue, Carol and Nat glanced your way and a heat began to grow along your neck at the feeling of embarrassment at being caught staring.

Nat had a small smirk playing along her lips while Carol mirrored your expression guiltily.

You missed Tony and Nat exchanging knowing smiles. You missed the way Carol's cheeks became tinted pink too.

"Excuse me." Tony said as he put a hand gently below your shoulder before walking off in the direction Nat had also departed too.

You smiled at Carol and wandered towards her place on the balcony, glad that she turned around entirely to face you. Unfortunately the blush on her cheeks had faded by the time you would have been close enough to spot it.

"Enjoying the party?" Carol asked as you stepped out onto the balcony and leant against the railing.

"I am." You said certainly. The blonde turned to copy your position so you could both gaze out at the buildings below you. The view you had gotten with Carol was undefeated, but the Avengers tower provided something special too.

"I told you they missed you." Carol grinned as she nudged your side with her elbow.

"Yeah." You blushed and peered down at the railing.

"I don't know about you but my shoes are killing me and I think I've talked to enough of these guests to bore me to death twice over." Carol sighed with a childish smile. You grinned back and nodded.

"You want to stay at mine tonight?" You asked hopefully.

"I'd love to." Carol's smile grew as you held her arm out for you to link your arm through again.

"Milady." The hero said with the same terrible English accent.

"Milord." You mocked as you put your arm through hers easily.

Maybe Tony was onto something.

*

That night when Carol took the same place she always did in her home that was as much hers as it was yours, you couldn't focus on the movie playing on the screen. You couldn't focus on anything except the blonde beside you.

You had your head resting on her shoulder and everytime you moved to get your drink and turned back to her your eyes instantly strayed to her lips, images of kissing her filling your head.

You remembered the night she moped with you after your breakup and how she had been the best friend you could ask for. Except you didn't want Carol to be just your friend. You wanted her to be more.

Your mind had been racing since since party, considering what Tony had said to you and how true it was. You and Carol really had always acted like a couple. You had never thought anything of it, even when Carol did it considerably less when you were dating someone.

Because you had been in more than just one relationship in the time you been friends with Carol. None of them ever felt right. You always thought there was something missing. Something that the next person would fix. No one ever could though. Because what you had been looking had been right infront of you the whole time.

All those feelings that had come bubbling to the surface the couple of weeks prior, they had been there all along. Christ, you were such an idiot.

"Carol..." You whispered, more afraid of what you were about to say than anything before. You wanted to back out. You didn't want to mess up what you had with Carol, but you had never been so sure of something than you were for your feelings for Carol in your entire life.

"Yeah?" She said softly.

"I think..." You held your breath and you could have sworn Carol did too. "I think I'm inlove with you." The blonde froze for a solid minute. Neither of you spoke. Tears threatened to come to the surface as you realized what you had done.

Eventually, Carol put her bowl of popcorn down and slowly turned towards you. You didn't dare meet her eye, instead playing with the edge of the blanket over you both and hoping it would trigger a sink hole beneath you.

"You do?" She whispered. You nodded and bit your lip in an attempt to hold back your tears. Carol lifted your chin gradually so you were looking at her. She had an unreadable expression.

"I love you too." You half laughed half sighed in relief as a smile spread across your face and the tears finally sprung free.

"Yeah?" You choked out. Carol instantly cupped your face and wiped your tears off of your cheeks as she smiled back at you.

"Yeah!" She giggled. "I've wanted to say that for so long." She admitted in a rush.

"Why didn't you? It could have saved us so much time!" You exclaimed and gently punched her arm.

"I was scared, even with Nat trying to convince me to say something." Carol explained, it was her turn to look away in embarrassment but you quickly pulled her back the way she did.

"That's really sweet, I'm here now." You assured genuinely.

Carol smiled back at you as her eyes glanced down at you lips. You grinned at the obviousness of what she was thinking and bravely closed the gap between you. After that prompt Carol eagerly met you half way and smiled into your long overdue kiss. Her lips were so so soft and moved against like a perfected dance. When you pulled away for air you rested your forehead against hers and breathed heavily with a heart filled smile.

"We have to do that more often." Carol said as her hands landed on your waist.

"We absolutely do." You agreed before pulling her into another kiss, engraving the memory of that night into your mind forever.

[spacestationdaedalus]

when my demons won’t let me be

or: not in his right state of mind, Jon accidentally compels Martin. It’s not okay, but it’s okay.

or or: i spend so much time reading sick fic and i finally wrote one of my own angst and plenty of hurt/comfort, warnings for canon-typical compulsion and descriptions of panic and disassociation

Martin wakes to a shifting of weight and a cut off breath. It's a hazy half-awareness, coming to him under a snowdrift, on a radio station drowning in dull static.

In a well-practiced motion, Martin extends an arm over the covers to rest on Jon's chest. He doesn't let the full weight fall, not yet. Enough for Jon to know he's there, a touch light enough that Jon can readily push away or lean into. It depends on the particular brand of nightmare, the terror that's chosen to follow him to sleep. Sometimes he sets Martin's arm aside with a gentle squeeze, sitting up against the headboard and taking comfort in the cool bedroom air and the sound of Martin's breathing. At least, in Jon's own words. Other times, he holds Martin's arm to his chest, taking comfort in the weight and warmth of it.

Neither of those things happen, though.

Jon rolls sharply, seemingly ignoring Martin's arm in favor of the other side of the bed. He curls around himself with a low whine, harshly cut off in the back of his throat.

"J'n?" Martin props himself up on one arm. Voice rough with sleep, but no less concerned.

Jon shifts, a back and forth movement that looks like it could be the shaking of his head. His shoulders are taut and trembling. He makes another sound that could be the beginning of a shout, and it brings Martin to full awareness. He moves his hands to Jon's shoulder before he has time to think, desperate to help, to comfort, to something.

"Jon, it's alright-"

“Don’t touch me!” Jon bursts out, dripping and full of static and oh oh oh. It cascades over Martin’s mind, oily and slick. His hands pull away like they've been burned, but numb and far off. As though belonging to a stranger.

He shifts away from Jon and off of the bed, limbs moving robotically to pull back the covers, to move him away until his back meets the bedroom wall. Martin's hands are raised halfway, frozen in a caricature of comfort. A puppet on strings. He wants to move, shout, anything. But the gaze of eyes he can’t see bears down on him, an insurmountable weight holding him in place. Like a butterfly pinned inside a glass display case.

Jon is sitting up, now. Eyes (eyes, eyes, he's all eyes) blown wide, bright and glassy even in the low light of the room. His breathing is ragged and uneven in obvious panic. Even with his hands clenched tight in the front of his nightshirt, Martin can see they’re trembling. Martin’s heart aches and he wants to help but he can’t move and Jon’s eyes are still on him and he can’t breathe and it hurts. And he's afraid. He can hear his pulse pounding in his ears, the eyes are still watching him and it feels so much like burning paper and righteous anger and Elias's face and everything Martin had been trying to forget.

Jon brings up a hand to cover his mouth. Horror and panic clear in his eyes, which Martin knows are reflected in his own. Then Jon backs away, clearly unsteady on shaking legs. Martin's vision starts to blur (when was the last time he blinked?) but he hears Jon's steps fade into the hall. And Martin can do nothing.

The back of Martin's mind still using logic was hoping the feeling would fade once Jon wasn't looking at him. Unfortunately, Martin is used to being proven wrong. Face blank, body rigid, mind screaming.

Autonomy comes back to him slowly, a tingling in his fingertips that trickles down his arms and leaves an awful shakiness in its wake. Nerves making up for lost time, maybe. Trying to catch up with the adrenaline coursing through his veins. A grip Martin wasn't aware of begins to loosen from around his ribcage, and his first real breath in ages is a shuddering gasp. The force of it combined with the jelly replacing his knees sends him sliding to the floor, using the wall for support.

Martin breathes. In. Out. The first breath is molten in his lungs. His eyes water against it, and the second one is even worse. The third leaves as a sob that echoes back at him. In one last betrayal of his body against him, the tears spill over to drip down his cheeks. Martin rests his forehead against his knees and wills himself not to fall apart.

The Lonely was easy, in that regard. For months, Martin didn't have to worry about this kind of thing - the fear and anger and gaping misery that had been following them for so long. But evidently suppressing your trauma with more trauma wasn't a healthy coping mechanism. Go figure.

Leaving the Lonely was hard. Martin had spent most of the first 48 hours oscillating wildly between numb detachment and emotion so overwhelming he thought he would drown in it. Jon helped. He was patient, gentle, all the things Martin thought were too good to be true.

Martin forces himself up as soon as he's able. Maybe sooner, given the way the room sways when he stands. But it passes after a moment, and Martin goes to find Jon.

The house is dark. The occasional creak from the pipes and floors could be off-putting, but compared to everything else, it's benign. He uses fingers brushed against the wall to guide him down the short hallway.

"Jon?" He calls. The floor creaks in response.

Martin reaches the threshold between the hall and the kitchen. The haze of the moon behind thin clouds bleeds through the window above the sink, providing just enough light to see. Martin catches a shadow out of the corner of his eye, but it isn't actually a shadow, and Martin lets himself feel a hint of temporary relief.

Jon is tucked in the corner between two cabinets. Head buried against his bent knees, hands gripping into his hair in a position that mirrors Martin's from mere moments ago. Martin's heart leaps into his throat.

"Oh, Jon." Martin kneels in front of him, slow as to not startle him. If Jon notices, he makes no sign of it.

"Jon?" Martin reaches, but stops halfway. He doesn't want a repeat of before. His palm itches, but he keeps it airborne. Until he knows it's okay.

Jon makes a sound in the back of his throat, one that Martin hasn't heard before. His next inhale is strained and wet and - oh. 

Martin had never seen Jon cry before. Angry, upset, shaken, sure. But not this. It twists something awful and thorny in his chest. Martin wants to hug him, but he keeps the few inches between them.

"Don't-" Jon starts suddenly, and for an awful moment the hairs on the back of Martin's neck stand up on end. But Jon cuts himself off with a keening noise, and curls further into himself. His shoulders are trembling, either from holding back sobs or the biting chill of the poorly-insulated kitchen floor, Martin can't be sure. Probably both.

"I-I'm sorry-" Jon stutters, sounding like each word is a fight to get out. "I-I-I don't - I don't know…"

"Just breathe, Jon. It's alright."

Jon shakes his head against his legs. "N-no, you need to-" A sob cuts him off.

"Need to what, love?" The term of endearment slips out naturally on Martin's tongue. If Jon notices, he doesn't say so.

"Leave." The last word crackles slightly in the air, like static electricity threatening a shock. Martin freezes. The compulsion threatens to overtake him, but it's weaker than before. It rings in his skull, and Martin fights it back until it fades to background noise.

Jon whispers, barely audible. "I can't - I can't control it."

Oh.

"Alright, alright…" Martin bites his lip for a moment. Nods to himself.

"Okay, let's just - I'll ask you yes or no questions for now. You can, ah - just nod for yes and shake your head for no. Is that alright?"

Jon's face is still hidden, but that's alright. After a moment, he nods enough for Martin to discern the movement.

"G-good, okay-" Martin pauses, not immediately sure what question to go with first.

"Did you have a nightmare, earlier? Is that what scared you?" Martin silently chides himself for asking two questions, but hopefully it won't matter.

Jon nods.

"Has this happened before? The, uh-" Martin makes a hand motion, but Jon can't see it. "Th-the 'not being able to control the compulsion,' thing?"

There's a pause, then Jon shakes his head. Martin frowns.

"Alright, that's alright. Do you think you can look at me?"

Another pause, longer. Martin doesn't press as the seconds pass. Then Jon slowly raises his head.

Jon's eyes are wide, rimmed with red and dark circles more pronounced than they had been in the last few days. Tears are steadily dripping down his cheeks, flushed dark against his complexion. His lips are pressed tightly together, and Martin can see the barely contained panic mingled with exhaustion in every line of his face.

"Hey." Martin greets, feeling like a small victory. Jon quickly casts his gaze down and to the side, not meeting Martin's eyes. He also moves his hands to wrap around his torso, shivering harshly against the cabinets. Martin frowns again. He racks his brain for the seemingly mundane moments from the previous day. Jon talking less as the day had gone on, his less-than-already-finnicky appetite, going to bed early because he said he was a bit tired. Nothing individually out of the ordinary, not after the hell they'd dragged themselves through just to get here. But-

"Jon, is it alright if I touch you?"

Jon nods almost immediately, but still avoids Martin's eyes. Encouraged, Martin moves carefully to press the back of his hand against Jon's cheek. It's warm - hot, even - to the touch. Martin checks his forehead for good measure, feeling the heat before their skin actually makes contact. Martin's winces in sympathy, moving his hand back to Jon's cheek. He uses both hands, for good measure, to cup Jon's face, and wipe the stray tears still dripping from his lashes.

"Oh, love. You're burning up." Martin says, gently. "That must have something to do with it."

Jon's brow furrows. He brings his own hand up to his face, seemingly to try and feel his own temperature. Martin can't help the quiet laugh.

"First let's get off the floor. 's not exactly comfortable, yeah?" Martin offers. 

Jon doesn't react, eyes locked in a middle distance between the two of them. But then all at once his expression breaks, and he buries his face in his hands.

Jon doesn't react, eyes locked in a middle distance between the two of them. But then all at once his expression breaks, and he buries his face in his hands.

Martin's heart leaps into his throat. "Oh, hey, hey-"

Jon's words are muffled by his hands, and broken up by harsh, jagged sobs.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I-I didn't-"

Martin moves forward slightly so he can wrap his arms around Jon. He can feel the shivers wracking Jon's frame, and the heat radiating off of him in waves. Martin tucks Jon's head under his chin, and holds him.

"Hey, it's okay." And it's not a lie. Martin was scared - terrified, to put it lightly. He knows he can't just brush that fear away. But he's not scared of Jon, never has been, never will be. And Martin know Jon, knows him and loves him and knows that he loves him back. Martin thinks that this might be more complicated than that, but right now, with Jon coming apart on the kitchen floor, it feels that simple.

"I know you didn't mean to, Jon. It's alright."

Jon shakes his head weakly in protest. Martin can't make out his exact words, jumbled as they are. But he feels the intent behind them, with the way they reverberate in his chest.

"We can talk about it later, when you're feeling better. But I'm not mad, I promise." Martin runs a hand through Jon's hair. It might have been a braid when Jon first went to bed, but it's mostly undone now. "Right now, I'm just worried about you. That's a nasty fever you're running."

They stay like that for a few minutes more. Jon's form is still a trembling leaf in Martin's arms, shallow and uneven breaths punctured by the occasional apology and stifled cry. Jon's forehead is pressed into his neck, burning like a furnace against Martin's skin.

Martin almost asks Jon if he can walk, but instead-

"Jon, is it alright if I pick you up?"

Jon tenses, and Martin immediately regrets asking. But then Jon nods affirmative, relaxing slightly into Martin's hold. Oh thank god.

Jon fits easily into the bends of Martin's arms, one at his back and one under his knees. Jon's hands clench the front of Martin's shirt, tightening and loosening in an uneven rhythm as Martin stands. It's easy for Martin to carry him the short distance to the bedroom, mindful of the narrow door frames.

The quilt and sheets are pulled back from before, which is helpful now. Martin eases Jon onto the bed. He brushes Jon's hair away from his face in what Martin hopes is a comforting gesture. But Jon still has that faraway, panicky look in his eyes, and Martin has an idea.

"Don't move, alright? I'll be right back, I promise." Martin presses a kiss to Jon's forehead, hoping he heard and understood enough of that to not mind when he leaves the room.

Martin comes back with a damp cloth and a glass of water. And a bottle of pain reliever - one that Martin had originally picked up from the store as an afterthought, but is grateful for now. He sets the glass and bottle on the nightstand and sits gingerly on the edge of the bed. Next to Jon, who hasn't so much as shifted in Martin's admittedly brief absence. Martin lays a hand on Jon's shoulder, but after a moment, moves to Jon's cheek. An olive branch to Jon's clouded awareness.

"Alright, love. I'm gonna lay this on the back of your neck, okay? Can you lean forward a touch for me?" 

Jon doesn't move or otherwise react for a moment, and Martin is almost sure he didn't hear it. But then he pitches forward slightly, and Martin shifts so he can support Jon's weight against his shoulder. He brushes Jon's loose curls to the side, letting his fingers linger there for good measure.

"It's gonna feel really cold, but it'll help. Easy," Martin murmurs, placing the folded cloth on the back of Jon's neck. Jon flinches at the touch, hissing between a groan and a whimper. 

"I know, I know." Martin soothes easily, adding other words of comfort here and there, lost to his memory as soon as they cross his lips. He holds Jon close, taking the chance to comb his fingers again through Jon's bed-moussed hair. He knows Jon likes having his hair played with, so Martin ever so gently works his way through some of the tangles, careful never to pull too hard or too fast. Jon's breaths slow and deepen - still marred by the occasional hitch, but a vast improvement from before. He gradually sinks more of his weight onto Martin's shoulder, until Martin is sure he's the only reason Jon is still upright. But Martin doesn't mind.

"Better?" Martin asks, when Jon's trembling passes and his breaths sound less like someone on the verge of drowning. Jon clears his throat.

"I- yes." He rasps, hardly a whisper. The word pulls a cough out of him, but he keeps going. "Th- thank you."

"Of course." Martin says. He all but beams at the sound of Jon's voice, wretched as it sounds. He considers making tea, but something about the bonelessness of Jon's posture tells him Jon won't be awake long enough to see a cup finished. But he does grab the glass of water from the nightstand, and shifts so Jon can take it in both hands.

"Drink some of that for me." Martin presses, and Jon doesn't argue. Martin reaches for the pain reliever next, shaking two pills out and handing them to Jon. He seems surprised at first, but quietly offers a thank you as he takes them from Martin's hand.

"How are you feeling?" Martin asks. It feels like a stupid question, but one of those stupid questions that you just have to ask in lieu of anything else.

"I'm-" Martin knows Jon is about to say I'm alright and something in his face must stop Jon from finishing, because he cuts himself off with a sigh. He presses the heel of his palm into his eye, suppressing a wince. "To - to be honest, uh, quite terrible."

The frankness of it could almost be funny, but Martin's heart aches instead. "I'm sorry. The medicine should help, at least."

Even without his glasses, Martin can make out the two in the hour place of the digital clock on the nightstand, and yeah, it's time for bed.

"And some proper sleep."

Jon nods, eyelids heavy. Martin takes the half-empty glass from his hand, and encourages Jon to lie back with a gentle push. Martin joins him on the other side of the bed, pulling the covers back over the two of them. He leans, partially sitting up against the headboard, inviting Jon into the place at his side if he wants it.

Jon fills the space immediately, burrowing his face into Martin's shoulder. Arms curled in front of him, pressed into Martin's side. He sighs softly. Martin watches the last of the tension bleed out of Jon's face, eyes closed. Jon's fever leaves Martin's side overly warm in minutes, but Martin can't bring himself to mind.

He's sure Jon is already asleep, but-

"M-rtin?"

"What is it, Jon? Do you need something?"

Jon makes a negative sound into Martin's shoulder, shaking his head. It's quiet for a moment, save for their breathing.

"I love you."

Martin freezes, and the response comes as naturally as an inhale after an exhale.

"I love you too."

[thefanficmonster]

Much Cooler

Corpse Husband & Emma Langevin 

Warnings: Swearing

Genre: Platonic Fluff, RPF (Real Person Fic)

Summary: There’s always a certain level of uncertainty when meeting someone you’ve only known online. There’s that sense of insecurity that your relationship with them will never be the same or - even worse - that their view of you might change for the worse. But there’s nothing more thrilling than seeing the person you’ve been talking to constantly for the past however long standing across from you. 

Requested by Anon. Hi dear! Thank you so much for your request and I’m so terribly sorry for how late it’s coming out but I hope the fic makes it worth the wait! Lots of love, Vy ❤

“CORPSE! Wake up you famous dumbass!“ is the first thing the poor man heard over the phone at 9 AM on this fine Saturday morning.

It’s more than enough to make him contemplate why he even decided to pick it up in the first place considering he wouldn’t have been very able to participate in the conversation due to his sleepiness. He also, of course, made the mistake of not checking the caller ID which apparently wasn’t necessary considering how recognizable that voice and accent are.

“It’s 9 AM, Emma.“ He states as a tired parent would to a child, “I’m concerned as to why you’re up so early. More so as to why you’re calling me of all people.“

He can practically hear her roll her eyes but he still smirks to himself, knowing she can’t contradict him or argue since he’s completely right with his claims. “Whatever. Remind me to never call you to congratulate you on a milestone again.“

Now that pokes at his attention with a stick. Lately, said attention has proven to be a hibernating bear, leaving Corpse with a lack of interest or motivation for anything but damn if that sentence wasn’t enough to roll him out of bed and hop on PC. “What? What milestone? Subscribers?“

“Nope! You got two million likes on ‘E-girls are ruining my life’! I can’t believe I have to tell you this! Didn’t you notice the numbers climbing?!“ Emma, as annoyed and sarcastic as she’s trying to sound, she’s obviously overjoyed on his behalf and is super proud of him and of the project she luckily agreed to take a small part in.

As his PC boots up, Corpse can’t help but roll his eyes at Emma’s comment, “Well unlike you I have better things to do than refresh a page over and over aga-” His sentence is quickly cut off when he sees the number of likes under the song for himself.

Knowing that he’d find it there didn’t change the feeling of seeing it for the first time at all. It’s so surreal and so hard for his mind to comprehend. Seeing as how little he thinks of himself, his content and his art, this is like his success coming to slap him across the face as if to punctuate to him how wrong that mindset is.

“You know, it wouldn’t hurt if you offered to take me out for at least a coffee to celebrate, bro.“ Emma comments sarcastically, joking only halfway from what he can sense.

He smirks, “Trying to even the playing field, I see.” He replies, referring to the fact that he’s still a faceless mystery to her while her face is literally the cover art for one of his songs.

She laughs but is quick to dismiss his claim, “Nah, I might be a curious and nosey little shit on other occasions, but other people’s privacy is not something I dig my nose into. However, if I were to even the playing field between us it wouldn’t be appearance-wise. More personality-wise. For my sake and yours I choose to believe you are way cooler in person than you are through messages or on a call.”

This withdraws a genuine fit of laughter from Corpse who throws his head back, a few strands of hair moving aside to reveal his shiny eyes, “Well then, instead of giving me the benefit of the doubt, how about we settle it once and for all? Tomorrow? I’ll text you the location.”

Emma’s eyebrows shoot upwards as soon as she comprehends his words and the tone that leaves no room for her to assume he’s joking, “Wait what? How come you’re agreeing to this? And so easily? Nah, this a trap if I’ve ever seen it.”

Corpse laughs yet again, “No trap, Em. I just can’t have you doubting my coolness.”

                                                             *  *  *

The main reason as to why Corpse requested for this meeting to be today is because he feared that if he had more than twenty four hours to dwell on it he’d chicken out. Little did he know it was the same for Emma. Their friendship has only ever existed with the bridge of social media connecting them and they both can’t help but fear the other might not like who they are IRL. They fear they unintentionally become a different person or change things about themselves subconsciously when communicating with people online. Bottom line, they’re scared of letting the other person down with who they really are, unaware that their personalities are most likely the exact same because, as the people who know them can confirm, neither Corpse nor Emma are the type to put on a show in order to be liked. They would rather have no friends because of who they are than have friends and fans of their persona instead of the real them.

And so, while slightly afraid and anxious about this meeting, both of them see it as a relief test to see if the friendship is in fact as real as it’s seemed these past months.

Corpse was the one to choose the location of their meet-up, a location Emma didn’t even think twice about agreeing on, and ever since, they’ve both been counting the hours until their scheduled meeting time.  It’s not about impressing each other, at least that’s what they’re both telling themselves, but rather proving to the other that they’re worthy of their friendship. They might throw snarky and sarcastic comments at one another that others would give a side-eye glance to and question if their friendship is real, but they know the dynamic best and they sure as hell don’t wanna lose it or each other.

Best friends are the ones who roast each other after all - you can’t tell me I’m wrong.

The nervous Corpse fidgets with the insides of his hoodie pockets as he waits outside the café, having arrived ten minutes early because he couldn’t stand being alone with his thoughts in his apartment, judging every fragment of himself twice as harshly as usual. Emma, on the other hand, could barely bring herself to leave her home. She kept retouching her appearance, despite knowing Corpse wouldn’t judge her even if she showed up in pjs. To be fair she contemplated doing just that several times because her hair pissed her off enough to get her discouraged on her outfit altogether but she did eventually talk herself into pulling it together. She already knew she’d be at least five minutes late, but once again, she knew Corpse wouldn’t care.

He’d wait, cause that’s the kind of friend he was. Cause that’s the kind of friend she was for him too.

And boy did it take her less than a second to recognize him. She wasn’t even out of the car when she saw him and knew it was exactly who she was looking for. He too, as if with a sixth sense that registered her presence, shoots his head up from his phone to look up at her, their gazes meeting. There’s a brief moment of close-to-shocked silence, their eyes a bit widened as their brains comprehend that they’re within arm’s reach of one another.

That’s when Emma’s the first to break the bubble of awe as a wide grin spreads across her face and she runs to Corpse, wrapping him in a hug before he’s even realized the distance between the two’s been closed.

“Hey.“ She mumbles, her face hidden in his hoodie due to the height difference.

“H-hey.“ He replies, hesitantly wrapping his arms around her too.

“I was right.“ She says once she pulls away, “You are much cooler face-to-face.“ She pauses for a second, narrowing her eyes, “You’d be even cooler if you bought me coffee though.“

Earning a laugh from him, she’s guided into the café by the arm Corpse wraps around her shoulders, telling her he’s get her a milkshake cause he doesn’t want to see her high on caffeine. Needless to say, they both are, indeed, much cooler to one another IRL.

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