#warning: snow drifts may contain snow

[howtofightwrite]

How effective would snow be as a makeshift rifle suppressor, i.e; If a person were taking their shots with the barel in a snowdrift or packed snow in front of it? The climax of my story involves a character providing cover with a hunting rifle during a winter night and I wasn't sure how much/if it might help deaden the sound and muzzle flash or what effect it would have on the bullet's penetration/trajectory/etc (if any).

Completely ineffective. It would also raise questions about how she'd be able to effectively sight her targets.

So, you have two problems with this plan. First, supressing a gunshot requires trapping the escaping gasses. The actual sound you hear is the powder burning off, so, you need to keep that contained. Rigging up an improvised supressor is possible, for someone with the technical knowhow, and enough raw parts.

There is an, “action movie,” improvised suppressor that drives me up a wall, but actually works. If you have the tools to get a solid seal around the barrel, a plastic bottle does make a functional, single use, suppressor. Importantly, it's still going to make a lot of noise, but it will dramatically reduce the sound of the initial gunshot. Any follow-up shots will be at full volume; stripping and replacing the bottle is probably too complicated to do while providing cover, so this is a one shot trick. It also won't hide that that the targets are getting shot at, but it will make identifying the source of that first shot much trickier. It's also worth remembering that there's a pretty decent chance the bottle will obstruct the sights (or optics), so it is a valid solution, but it has some serious drawbacks.

The second problem you have is your ammunition. With a handful of (exotic) exceptions, rifle rounds are hypersonic. That means they travel above 343m/s, which means they make a tiny sonic boom as they travel. This is the characteristic crack of a rifle round (and many pistol rounds.) The only way to avoid this is by using subsonic ammunition. The ballistics on subsonic ammo tends to be pretty terrible. You don't want to fire this stuff if you don't absolutely have to.

There two very notable subsonic rounds. The first is .45 ACP. A lot of standard .45 ACP has muzzle velocities around 250m/s, which means it lacks that unsupressible crack. The other round is 9x39mm. This is a Russian round designed for a small selection of rifles intended for covert operations. The AS Val, and VSS Vintorez. Since it's introduction, it has also seen use in a few unsupressed firearms. The OTs-14 Groza (Thunderstorm), and the SR3m Vikhr. The cartridge has a muzzle velocity just under 300m/s, and the basic idea was, if you have to reduce the velocity, you can just increase the mass of the bullet. The AS Val and Vintorez were both late-Soviet designs, and while the cartridge is unusual, it is a noteworthy example of a round designed around the speed of sound.

The snow drift would hide the muzzle flash (to some degree), and that's the only thing it would be good for, but this comes with other problems. If you're hiding behind something and shooting through it, you can't see to shoot accurately through it. Unless the hunting rifle is something truly unual, (like an MAS .223), the scope is going to be pretty close in line with the barrel. (Before you get too excited by that example, a MAS .223 sold at auction in September 2019 for $28,750, and another example sold at auction last year for over $40k. This is an extremely rare, and expensive firearm.)

Shooting through a snow drift (or, really, anything else) also has the risk of hitting something inside the drift. This depends on how well your character knows what should be there, but it would be a pretty horrible way to discover the drift is concealing a concrete traffic barrier, or something similar.

Unfortunately, the snow drift is almost certainly concealing snow within. This is the biggest problem with this plan. Snow is surprisingly good at stopping bullets. This should be expected when you consider that water is one of the preferred mediums for stopping bullets in forensic examinations. Trying to put a bullet through a meter of snow is likely enough to stop it. As in, the bullet never comes out, or is already tumbling with very little remaining inertia. If you try to shoot through a snow drift, you're not going to hit your target on the other side. Even just 30cm of snow is enough to destabilize and significantly slow your round. (That number depends on a lot of factors, primarily the bullet used.) This will have the unintentional side effect of dragging your round below the sound barrier, but the cost is that you can't intentionally hit anything with it. It's already going to be tumbling and end up wherever it feels like.

The best option with a situation like this would be for your sniper to find someplace they're relatively concealed, and then be careful with their shots. The ideal approach would be to keep moving, repositioning after each shot, though that might not be an option. They might conceal themselves in the snowdrift, with their rifle and scope peeking out. It's not going to do anything about the gunshot, but it will make them harder to spot before the bullets start flying. And, while the snow wouldn't completely protect from incomming fire, if they took cover behind it, it would give them better odds against getting hit fatally. A full meter of snow would stop most rounds from getting through.

So, yeah, there are options here, just not the ones you were thinking of.

-Starke

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[avastrasposts]

Big Sky Country - ch. 1

Cowboy!Frankie x OFC

Hi!

I'm really excited to post the first chapter of my new fic after posting a little snippet of it almost a month ago! In it we meet a cowboy version of Frankie as he returns to New York to patch things up with his "maybe girlfriend", but he also makes a connection with another woman, who makes this lost cowboy feel welcome in her Brooklyn bar.

No age gap, OFC story, angsty as fuck in parts, some smut, and I'm putting poor Frankie through hell again (I love him, I swear...)

And a big shout out and thank you to @i-own-loki who made the beautiful banner!

Warnings can be found here - contains spoilers but please read if you know certain themes may be upsetting for you. This fic is dark in parts and I don't want to upset anyone.

Series Master List

Main Master list

Prologue

The Greyhound bus rumbled away down the pin straight highway, heading west, towards the darkening mountain range. The sun slowly sank behind the highest peaks, soon their shadows would touch her feet. Looking back, east, towards a past she’d left on a whim, she sighed and let her eyes drift up to the indigo sky. Big sky country indeed. 

So alien to her eyes, so open to someone used to living their life surrounded by tall buildings, busy people, small trees in small parks. 

Here, the open prairie gave speed to the cold wind that hurtled down from the mountain range, whipping dirt from the road, tugging at her loose hair. She briefly closed her eyes against the particles of dust, inhaled deeply, tasting it on her tongue, dry grass in the air, a hint of snow from the mountains. No way back now, the bus too far away to stop. Only her duffel bag and a phone number, hoping he’d pick up and let her in. 

He pressed his thumb to the button with her name, the taxi behind him rolling away down the crowded street. The buzz from the intercom added another layer of noise to the assault on his ears. 

He dropped his hand. 

Waited.

Glanced down the street, letting the tall steel and glass buildings pull his gaze upwards, to the thin sliver of dirty gray sky visible above them. With a sigh he dropped his eyes down, towards the end of the long street, where the buildings seemed to merge into one solid wall. He knew he was looking west, could feel it in his bones, in the way his feet wanted to start walking towards it. Towards the tall mountain range behind his home. 

He pressed his thumb against the button with her name on it again, the buzzer grated his skin. He had a way back, nothing stopping him from hailing a cab, climbing back on the Greyhound and heading west again. 

But she was here. If he wanted to make this work, he needed to be here. 

Chapter One

A wall of warm air hit Frankie as he pulled open the door to the bar, chatter spilling out onto the street. His shoulders pulled up to his ears, the environment uncomfortable to him and he stopped just inside the door, scanning the room for something familiar apart from the smell of stale beer in the air. This bar was the first one he saw that looked like it would maybe serve someone like him, a Texas boy, fresh off the bus from Montana. He’s pretty sure he still has horse dung stuck to the bottom of his cowboy boots, his old army duffel bag slung over his shoulder. 

The door behind him opened again, cold air hitting the nape of his neck under the ball cap. 

“You growing roots, old man?” 

The line is followed by a man snorting and a hand on Frankie’s arm, pushing him to the side. He would snap, bite back with a threatening remark, or at the very least fix the man with his most intimidating soldier scowl. But he just took two steps to the side, his shoulders creeping closer to his ears as he tugged at his cap, the movement unintentional, a nervous habit. He knew he was out of place here, a stranger. 

The young man, a yellow backpack slung over his shoulder and long hair pulled into a bun, shoved his way past Frankie, catching the eye of the woman behind the bar. 

“Hey, dickwad! Behave yourself or I’ll have you barred,” she barked, her eyebrows furrowed as she jabbed her finger at the man and he raised his hands in a weak gesture of apology as he sauntered towards the bar. 

“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” he snarked, heading towards a loud crowd further in, walking away and ignoring the frown from the woman. She turned her attention to Frankie instead and looked him up and down, an appraising look, before meeting his eyes. 

“You coming or going, cowboy?” 

“Uuh..coming,” he managed to press out, picking up his feet and walking to the bar. He felt heat creep up his neck at being so easily pegged as a cowboy, an out of towner, swallowing down the urge to turn on his heel and bolt out the door. He rubbed his hand over the back of his neck and the woman behind it gave him a smile, setting down a coaster with a flick of her wrist. 

“What can I get you? You look like you’ve traveled far.” 

“Just a beer, thanks,” he said and she gave him a softer smile, pity flashing across her face. 

“This is Brooklyn, cowboy, I’ve got twenty beers on tap and forty in bottles,” she said and he felt fatigue set in, can’t even order a normal fucking beer in this city. He sighed deeply, dropping his head between his shoulders. But the woman just chuckled in a low voice, tapping her hand on the bar just in front of him. 

“Don’t despair, I’m a good bartender, I know what you’ll like.” 

He picked up his head as she stepped away, grabbed a glass, and moved to a tap further down the bar. Shooting him a quick grin, she began to pull the pint, amber liquid filling the glass, topping off with a creamy white head. He watched her from under the bill of his cap, shouldn’t really appraise her, but he couldn't help it. The fitted jeans on her curves, and the faded bar uniform shirt tied at the waist instead of tucking it in, made his eyes drop down over her ass in a way a man trying to save his relationship with another woman should avoid. And she clocked him, checking her out when she turned towards him again, making him snap his eyes to his hands on the bar. Heat crept up his neck as he rubbed the small bullseye tattoo next to his thumb. 

“Amber ale from a local brewery three blocks from here,” she said and placed the pint on the mat in front of him. 

“Thanks,” he replied, watching the bubbles rise to the bottom of the head, “looks good.” 

“One of my favorites, I’ve always had a soft spot for amber ale,” she nodded, picking up a cloth and returning to the never ending duty of cleaning glasses. 

Frankie picked up the glass and took a long sip, humming as the ale slipped down his throat. 

“Damn,” he said, “that’s good, that’s really good.” 

“Told you,” the woman smiled at him and he gave her a quick smile in return before he took another sip. 

She watched him from the corner of her eye as she moved around the bar, clean glasses getting wiped and stacked. Clearly a newcomer to the city, she’d called him ‘cowboy’ and he hadn’t protested, the boots and the duffel bag giving him away, even before she saw his uneasy eyes roam around the bar and his nervous shuffle. She’s used to assessing anyone who stepped in through the door, the loud ones, the quiet ones, the ones who are only coming to make trouble. 

This man was one of the quiet ones, she doesn’t think he’s loud even when he’s in his own element, surrounded by friends. 

As he took another long drink from his pint, she turned and picked up glass, catching his eyes on her. She smiled warmly at him, wanting to make him feel welcome, at least in this bar. The city outside is usually brutal to newcomers, and this one seemed to carry more of a burden than most. 

“So you’re new to the city?” she asked him, moving back to his side of the bar, pushing long strands of ginger red hair back behind her ears before wiping another glass. 

“Yeah, came in on the bus a few hours ago,” he replied and she nodded. He doesn’t look like he flew into the city, he’s got the tired face of someone who's spent too many hours leaning against a window, watching the Midwest slip past. But underneath the tired eyes there’s a warmth, a softness in the way he gives her a small crooked smile that makes a dimple appear on his right cheek. 

“Spent two fucking days on it,” he sighed, rubbing a large hand over his face before he lifted his cap and swept his thick curls back. She was temporarily mesmerized by how they bounced back around his ears as he squashed the cap back down. 

“Two days? Where did you come from, Texas?” she asked, her eyes widening at the thought of spending two whole days on a bus, but he shook his head. 

“No, I think Texas is like three days, I came from Montana,” he took another long drag of his beer. 

“I’m guessing this isn’t a weekend trip then”, she quipped, putting down the cloth, all the glasses done, and leaned back on the counter behind her. There’s more work to be done but the stranger chuckled softly at her joke and it pulled her in, making her smile in return. 

“No, I’m here to stay with someone, my..ah-a friend, of sorts,” he said, “Gonna see if I can find some work around here, try a different type of life.” 

“What do you do?” she asked, “Maybe I know someone who knows someone, that’s usually how it works here.” 

“Back in Montana I work with horses, on a ranch,” he replied, rubbing his thumb over the condensation on the beer glass, “Before that, I was a mechanic, cars, helicopters, anything really, I can usually fix it.” 

“That’s a pretty handy skill,” she replied, sounding impressed and he gave a little shrug, as if the ability to fix helicopters was something inconsequential, “I’m sure you’ll find work, especially if you can fix old cars, lots of those around here.” 

She turned and grabbed a notepad from next to the till, “What’s your name and number? I’ll keep it on hand and ask around for you.” 

“Really?” He sounded surprised as he sat up a bit straighter, “Uh yeah, I’m Frankie, Frankie Morales.” 

“Nice to meet you, Frankie,” she smiled back at him and slid the notepad across the bar, “Write it down, and your number. I can’t promise anything, and I’m not recommending you to anyone, I’ll just let them know you’re looking for work.” 

“Yeah, sure, of course, but anything helps,” he replied, grabbing the pen and jotting down his information. 

“What’s your name?” he asked, as he passed the notepad back to her. 

“Aisling,” she replied, slipping it in next to the till again. 

“Do you own this place,” he asked, looking around the bar. When he looked back at her she was shaking her head. 

“No, not at all, I’m just the bartender,” she said, “Give me a minute, I’m just gonna serve these guys.”  She gave him a quick smile and headed down the bar to two men who had just sat down. 

Frankie watched her as she took their orders, smiling and laughing easily as she pulled a beer for one of them. The men, her age, are both hanging on to her every word as she makes a joke,  the blonde one clapping the other one on the shoulder with a loud howl. She winked at him and turned, reaching for a bottle on the top shelf to serve the other man. As she stood on her tiptoes, stretching to reach, her shirt rose up, a soft sliver of creamy skin exposed in the dim light of the bar. Frankie couldn’t help but stare at the glimpse black underwear peeking out above the edge of her jeans, a flash of lace, his mouth suddenly dry as his cock reacted. He dipped his head, but couldn't keep his eyes away, she swayed on her tiptoes, refusing to get the stepladder and her breasts pressed against the shirt as it rode up higher. Frankie had an image of her underneath him, all that soft flesh, warm and smooth under his rough palms, sweet smelling and whimpering.  

She managed to slide the bottle off the shelf and grab a glass. Frankie peeled his eyes away, looking down at the now empty pint in his hands, pressed his thumb into the tattoo, forcing his thoughts in another direction. At the end of the bar, Aisling rang up the customers’ order and wiped down the bar before coming back towards him. 

“Do you want another?” she asked, nodding towards the empty glass. Frankie considered it for a beat and then shook his head. He wanted a clear head when he went back to the apartment, he needed to say the right things to save the relationship with the woman who lived there. He already knew that not even in his head could he bring himself to call her ‘girlfriend’, he’s far from sure that’s what she is anymore, not with the way they left it. 

“No, I can’t,” he said, “It was good though, what do I owe you?” 

“Fourteen fifty,” Aisling replied and he tried not to cough at the price as he pulled his wallet from the back of his jeans. 

She took his bills and he left her a tip on the bar that she deposited in the tip jar with a smile. 

“Uhm…tell me,” Frankie said, absentmindedly tugging at his cap, “Do I really look that much like a cowboy?” 

Aisling’s smile softened as she heard his nervous question, “Well…yeah, the cowboy boots are kinda a give away,” she replied, “It doesn’t exactly look like it’s a fashion choice, and the whole jeans, suede jacket, belt buckle look…” She motioned over his body as Frankie’s eyes dropped down to his jeans and belt, hidden from view by the counter. 

“You’re good,” he said, a small chuckle escaping him, “You got all that just from when I came in?” 

“Tricks of the trade,” she replied, “I need to know who steps into the bar and read them quickly.” 

“So you assessed me as soon as I walked in? What else did you pick up on?” He was curious now and leaned forward on the counter as she laughed. 

“Well, I’m cheating because we’ve been talking for a bit now. But you do look ‘new in town’ and I’d say ex-army maybe?”

“I guess the duffel bag gave it away?” Frankie smiled, glancing down at the old bag at his feet. 

“No, they’re ten dollars at the army surplus stores,” Aisling replied, shaking her head, “But you sat down with your back against a corner, and I bet you can tell me exactly where the exits are and how many people are in here and which ones could give you trouble.” 

Frankie raised his eyebrows in surprise at her and she shrugged. 

“You’ve been scanning the room since you walked in.” 

“Yeah, you’re not wrong,” he replied, letting his eyes roam across the room again, it’s instinct at this point, inherited from years in the army, “I quit the army years ago but it’s a habit I can’t seem to drop.” 

“What did you do? Mechanic?” Aisling asked and Frankie shook his head. 

“Helicopter pilot, which means I had to be able to fix anything, but mainly I flew things, anything really.” 

Aisling gave him a closer second look and the pieces fell into place, his quiet demeanor, the way he held himself, not exactly folded in on himself, but as if he was  trying to stay unseen and not be noticed unless he wanted to be. A strong, solid body gone slightly soft with age, betrayed by the gray in his beard and hair, small white scars across his knuckles, evidence of old injuries.

“What?” he asked as he noticed her eyes scanning him. 

“Just building the picture,” she said, a small crooked smile, “You know us bartenders, always trying to figure out the story of our patrons.” 

“Not much of a story,” he said, tugging at his cap and hiding his eyes, “just new in town, looking for work.” 

“Everyone has a story, Frankie Morales.” 

He shrugged at that and fumbled for his phone as it began to ring. Aisling gave him a quick smile and stepped away to let him answer in private. 

Frankie’s jaw ticked as he saw the name on the screen, Eva. He’s been expecting her to call since he left her front door. Their front door, maybe. The truth is, he doesn’t know where they stand anymore. They’d met in Florida, after a doomed mission to South America that left so much pain inside him, and a rift between old friends. She’d been a calming presence, someone who seemed to have his back when his mind spiraled out of control. But she hadn’t been enough, being in Florida became oppressive, and it wasn’t just the humid heat. The old haunts from the days he’d spent trying to numb his brain with white powder, bars and venues filled with memories of the friends he’d lost, both those who’d died and those who still lived, it all became claustrophobic. 

When Herb, his sponsor at the NA, first invited him to the ranch in Montana he’d scoffed at the idea. He was a pilot, not a ranch hand. But after a close call, nearly falling back into the habit, he’d taken him up on the offer and gone out there for two weeks. Herb had convinced him by talking about the clear, cool air making it easy to breathe, the open sky making the mind feel less claustrophobic. And he’d been right. The first evening they’d sat on the porch, the mountains at their back, the open prairie in front, and Frankie had looked up at the endless sky and it was almost as if he was back in a cockpit, flying close to the stars. Nothing encroached on his mind, no buzz in his ears, nothing tugged at his memories, just the open sky and an endless horizon. 

The two weeks of hard ranch work, aching muscles, blistered hands, sealed the deal. If he wanted to truly start over, he needed to leave Florida and come here. 

Eva had been enthusiastic at first, pulled in by Frankie’s talk of the horses, a new foal that had just been born, the small cabin they’d live in. He’d shared the pictures he’d taken, all rustic beams, sturdy wood furniture and a hammock on the porch. It looked like a romantic western dream and that’s what they both really thought it would be. And for the first few months they were happy. 

But when Frankie found peace and calm in the solitude of the isolated ranch, felt free and unrestricted, she began to feel claustrophobic and suffocated. The nearest town, a forty-five minute drive away, didn’t offer much of anything. She found work online and began to resent the life he’d trapped her in. That was the word she’d used, trapped. When the fights became a daily occurrence, Frankie felt the familiar itch of wanting to escape come back. Starting, as always, in his feet and crawling up his body until he spent more time out on the ranch than in the cabin. And for every hour he stayed away, Eva resented their life more, resented him more. 

Until eventually, one late evening when he came back after five days on the trails with a group of guests from a neighboring ranch, she’d left. Only a note saying she’d accepted a position in New York with the company she worked for. A line about needing a different type of life, no invitation to come with her, to follow her, just signed /E and that was it. 

He’d called her, spent hours on the phone when she eventually picked up, begged her to come back. Offered to move to a ranch closer to a bigger town, find a compromise where he could still have the peace of the ranch life, but let her live her life too. But she loved New York, after the silent cabin, she craved the noise and the tempo of the city. 

Eventually he agreed to come to New York, to see her new life and maybe find a place in it. But the city was an assault on his senses after so long on the ranch. The peace that his spiraling mind had finally found evaporated as he navigated the city, the metro, her friends, the bars. His feet itched, the skin around his nails was picked raw and he felt on edge, even in the apartment, his mind never getting a chance to be quiet. 

Eva called it his need for control, to always have a plan of escape, a way out. He knew it was the years in the army that had shredded his sense of safety, left his nerves ragged and too exposed to the mundane background noise of a city. Maybe he’d be able to deal with it some day, but now, he needed the silence. 

After two months in Brooklyn, he left. A loose promise from both of them to maybe try to patch things up, to try the long distance thing. But when he sent a text, saying he’d returned safely to the ranch, and she didn’t reply for two days, he knew it was over. And he didn’t miss her. He had loved her at some point, he thinks. But their lives didn’t match, their needs too different. And he saw that he should maybe not be with anyone while he laid down the foundations of a new life in a new place. He needed to find a way to live with himself, in silence, before he considered sharing his darkest sides with someone else. 

And then Eva called. Six weeks after he’d left Brooklyn. He could hear the heavy traffic behind her as she walked down a street somewhere, leaving a clinic that had confirmed what she’d suspected. 

“I’m pregnant, Frankie, and it’s yours.” 

The words floored him, sent a sharp jolt of dread through his system, his feet tingling, then his scalp. A baby. In New York. But his baby, their child. And the dread was replaced by nerves, how would they do this? Would she want to raise the baby in New York or come back to Montana? He had space for a child here, a guest bedroom with a view of the mountains. It would be a perfect nursery, he could paint it, build a crib with Herb’s help, the nearby town was a good place to raise a family when the child was old enough to begin school. Without even stopping to think, he built a new life around the unborn child. 

Or hell, even New York, he’d make himself put up with New York if that was what she wanted. The apartment only had one bedroom but maybe they could move further out, get a bigger place. He could renovate pretty much anything, he was sure of it. Maybe they could find a quiet neighborhood with trees, where his mind could find peace even in the city. Without even stopping, he built another new life around his, their, unborn child. 

“I don’t know if I’m keeping it, but I wanted to tell you.” 

Eva’s voice had been hard, letting him know that she was doing him a favor by telling him, letting him be part of it. 

“I’ll come to New York, I’ll get a bus today,” Frankie pleaded, “Let’s talk this through, a few more days won’t make a difference.” 

She’d conceded, and he’d thrown stuff into the old duffel bag, left a message with Herb, and driven to the crossroads where the Greyhound stopped. 

Now he was here, in a Brooklyn bar, looking down at her name on his phone as he pressed the green button to answer. 

Chapter 2

A/N: And we're off! I'm so nervous, I really hope you all will love this and follow along as I explore this new version of Frankie! I hope to post a new chapter every Sunday so fingers crossed life doesn't get in the way too much!

❤

Tagging the ususal suspects: @harriedandharassed @inept-the-magnificent @sheepdogchick3  @readingiskeepingmegoing @noisynightmarepoetry @survivingandenduring @vabeachazn @amyispxnk @oberynslady @vabeachazn @amyispxnk @thewiigers @laughing-in-th3-purple-rain @casa-boiardi

[pakunod-a]

Abstained.

A/N: a repost from my old blog (@ayayabaroque) with a few tiny revisions, based on Kung 'Di Rin Lang Ikaw and Sa Ngalan Ng Pag-Ibig, both by December Avenue <3 Warnings: Sumeru Archon Quest spoilers, (Use of Scaramouche's real/given name) horrible English </3

If you aren’t the reason to love, would I stop my heart from getting hurt?

Kunikuzushi was beyond saving, he was impossible to love. His own creator abandoned him, his only friends left him, and being faced with his own immortality, he knows that you’ll leave him too.

You believe that though your flaws of mortality remain, you would do your best to stay by his side for eternity.

But as he drifts of into the company of another, a scholar by the name of Haypasia, you question if he is worth the trouble of loving.

“Scaramouche, it’s been only 2 days after your most recent visit to Haypasia, would it be possible to ask you of one thing?”

He merely scoffs, dismissing the idea of resting, if it meant showing affection to his most devoted follower.

It is a true wonder you haven’t left him yet, despite how inconsiderate he is towards your personal feelings.

If it isn’t you, then it won’t be at all, I won’t hope for us anymore.

The Doctor offered you revenge, wealth, and power, all you had to do was to betray Kunikuzushi.

But you couldn’t bring yourself to put him in a much more dire situation, thus you decline.

Yet do you truly feel this way about him?

“You never truly cared for me, Haypasia has been showing her dedication and devotion to me ever since she made contact with her new-found God.” 

Scaramouche seethes, venom spilling from his mouth

“If I were you, I’d do exactly as Haypasia, in hopes to win over my companion again.”

I’m shivering and I can’t move, my heart can’t force myself to love you anymore.

It proves true that the snow-ridden land of Snezhnaya is not suit to your tastes,

but if it means staying as far away as humanly possible from Scaramouche, you’d go through whatever length to ensure his happiness.

For Haypasia's happiness too, yet not yours.

If the frostbite and cold doesn’t take you, then may the fake god abrew in Sumeru take your life.

You once believed that you would take any step toward a brighter future for you and Kunikuzushi, but it seems near impossible to achieve that, if he is in the glory of another.

Do you truly love him now?

If it won’t be us in the end, I’ll stop myself from loving someone else.

“I vow to stay by your side for eternity, let the damned wake, and let the souls who mourn, do so with agony. I will shield you from the world and all it’s cruelty.” —yet you, who makes such sacrilegious promises, only to succumb to sheer cold, and a slight pang of jealousy toward his “first” follower.

If you couldn’t love another, you might as well die with the vows you’ve made to each other.

That way, when he succeeds in entering godhood, he won’t remember you anymore.

But if I don’t remember who we were, who’ll cry in the morn for us?

Before setting foot into Sumeru, you haven’t even heard of Irminsul.

Much less known that Irminsul contains the memories of everyone, which holds little to no regard from Scaramouche, until he caught wind of what recently happened after his downfall.

“They have been pronounced dead. I believe you have no use for them anyway, since Haypasia is your one and only follower, am I correct?”

Il Dottore, 2nd of the Harbingers, announcing your death to the former Harbinger has his mouth agape and speechless.

He descended into madness, believing that it was all his fault, his status, his arrogance, and his vile nature that caused your death.

Shortly after his defeat, he was assigned to carry out a task for Lesser Lord Kusanali and the Traveler.

Enter Irminsul and attempt to find more information on the Descenders of Teyvat. In his subconscious, his new-found information on the erasure of existence from the Traveler has his full attention. Perhaps, if he never met you, if he never tainted his self-image, you could live happily together with him in his next life. With the knowledge of Irminsul, he begins infiltrating its memories in hopes to have his soul reborn into your arms again. I’m letting go, since I can’t move anymore. But would I stop your heart to yearn for another? He succeeded in erasing The Balladeer’s existence of this world, but it was in vain. You couldn’t hang on to the tiny bit of life you have anymore, and withered away from his grasp. In all the years of his life, he has never experienced such grief in his life. His mind, though hazy, tries to cling on to what little memory he has of you in the back of his mind. Kunikuzushi was impressed to say the least, you really did love him, even if he wouldn’t love you anymore. At the cost of the recognition as a God, the price would be his only source of hope and warmth. “Until the end of our time,  until our hearts feel nothing anymore, even if forever ends, I’ll wait for you in the name of love.” - A/N: i wish that i too, can be erased by irminsul. that sucks. Stay safe, keep yourself hydrated, and continue on treading your path in life, with hopes of success. Believe in yourself, and stay positive. <3 -1, Yuan

[daryl-dixon-daydreams]

Words: 5,818 Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader Reader pronouns: she/her Era: Alexandria, pre-Negan Warnings: scary imagery, frightening scenarios A/N: This is part of a series! Find the rest on the Master List!

Summary: Escaping from the horde and leaving the ruins of the cabin behind, Daryl and Y/N head down the mountain and then must decide what happens next.

Previous Chapter

You cut the engine of the snowmobile and shut off the lights. The slope of the foothills behind you continued to carry you downwards toward the darker shadows looming, rising up in front of you like a tidal wave. The moon was bright enough to illuminate your way.

You were shivering, almost violently, and Daryl’s arms tightened around you. Your teeth chattered.

“What is it?” Daryl drawled over your shoulder.

“W—we’re almost there. We should f—find somewhere to leave the sled and g—go on foot. I don’t want th—the engine noise or lights to attract the dead or the l—living,” you stuttered. You both squinted ahead at the dark buildings.

“Yer frozen,” he said. The worry weighed heavily in his voice. “We gotta get ya warm and into some dry socks and shoes… Hopefully I can build ya a fire when we find a clear buildin’.”

“I’m—I’m okay,” you managed, though you weren’t sure you believed it. You felt as if you’d been in a daze since you’d woken up and seen the crowd of dead outside the cabin. You still had the fleeting thought that this wasn’t real, that this wasn’t happening, but then the bite of the cold on your cheeks and fingers would reassure you that it was. You were far past feeling anything in your toes, even the painful teeth of the frigid wind.

At last, you stopped the sled at the bottom of the hill and pulled it sideways along a row of brushy shrubs to conceal it. Daryl climbed off immediately and the dogs eagerly jumped out and began nosing around in the snow. Bear let out a few quiet whines, but they showed no sign of alert due to any nearby enemies, dead or living.

You climbed off the seat and staggered on your feet in the deep snow. Daryl’s hands seized your shoulders and steadied you. In the glow of the moon, you could see the frantic turmoil in his blue eyes. “Ya alrigh’?” he drawled softly. He was on edge. You could hear it in the flinty sharpness of his voice.

You gulped and nodded.

Your frozen fingers fumbled with your gear, pulling it clumsily from the snowmobile and shouldering it over the oversize parka you’d pulled on hastily on the mountain. Daryl popped open the storage container and began tugging more bags from inside, shifting them onto his back. Crossbow in hand, he was waiting nearby until you were ready, and then he began to lead the way to the closest building.

The night air was dampened of all sound from the blanket of snow. Somewhere among the buildings you could hear the occasional squeak of metal or bang, perhaps from some infected trapped somewhere, but the street seemed blessedly empty.

You were trying hard to control the violent shivering wracking your body, clenching your teeth and trying to focus on staying alert to the surroundings, but your feet had begun to burn again in your sodden layers. Daryl’s hand drifted along the painted cinderblock as he moved stealthily toward a heavy metal door ahead. You were at the back of some store, though you couldn’t say what it may have been a long time ago. There were no windows and Daryl heaved in a steadying breath when he finally stopped in front of the gray, metal door. He raised the butt of his crossbow and knocked it hard in the center. A hollow reverberation sounded and you could almost feel the vibration in your bones.

Both of you strained your ears in the silence. The dogs stood on either side of you, alert. You waited several long minutes, rigid with anticipation, until finally you wavered on your feet and Daryl almost dropped his bow in his anxiety to steady you again. His brow furrowed deeply. “I think it’s clear, but dun let yer guard down until we know for sure. We gotta check the whole building.” He reached out and tested the handle cautiously. It was loose. He turned it and pushed inside into the darkness, clicking on the light mounted on his bow.

You moved through the building efficiently, searching for any sign or people or infected, but the building was silent with its maze of shelves and newspapered windows. Part of the roof had collapsed at some point and pigeons took off and flew through the hole toward the inky night sky overhead. The dogs gave chase briefly but quickly returned to your sides when they realized the birds were far out of reach.

Daryl was shining his light around what must have been an employee break room at some point. “I think we’re good,” he drawled, heaving a relieved sigh. As if that was all you needed to hear to allow your body to finally give out, you collapsed in a heap on the floor. “Whoa—hey, hey!” Daryl rushed to you. Bear whimpered and licked your cheek. You were breathing hard, clearly exhausted and crashing after the highs of the adrenaline. “Hey—yer alrigh’,” he drawled, kneeling beside you and quickly dumping his gear down on the floor. He cupped your face between his hands and wiped at a spot of blood on your cheek from your fight with the walkers outside the shop. “We’re okay. S’gonna be okay…”

“I c—can’t f—feel my feet,” you said, reaching a still gloved hand toward your sodden feet. The slippers were blocks of ice and so were the socks beneath them.

Daryl’s brow furrowed. “Yeah… uhh—yeah, we need fire. We gotta get ya warm. Lemme—” he glanced back at the hole in the roof, perfect to let the smoke escape. “Okay. I’mma make a fire. Lemme gather up some shit to burn. Just—ya peel off those wet socks and stuff and move your toes and feet, see if ya can warm ‘em a bit with yer hands. If ya gotta, wrap ‘em in yer coat or put your mittens on ‘em.”

You realized for the first time that he barely had any winter gear on either. “W—what ab—bout you?”

He gave you a half-smile. “‘M okay. Haven’t ya noticed ‘m immune to the cold now? It almost had me once, but ain’t gonna happen again.”

His cheeks were red and windburned and you frowned. “It’s n—not a virus. Ya don’t g—get immunity l—like that, Daryl,” you argued. “Ya can’t just—”

He suddenly cupped your face and pressed his lips eagerly to yours. Yours were chilled and tasted slightly salty, like tears, but you kissed him back hungrily, feeling a screaming welling up inside your chest—too close, it was too close, too close, that was all too close… “I’ve got this,” he whispered to you when he pulled back, brushing some strands of your hair that were sticking to your cheeks. “Just rest here and try to unfreeze them toes.” Daryl was here. Daryl was going to make sure you were okay. The scream lessened to a dull roar. You nodded and watched him step away into the darkness to gather dried bits of cardboard and paper and broken pallet wood to build a fire. The glow of his flashlight was a warm torch in the cold darkness.

You sighed and turned your attention back to your frozen feet. Bear laid down against your side, whining slightly. Strider walked calm patrol around you, on alert and staring and sniffing into the darkness.

When you peeled (or cracked may be more accurate) the sodden socks from your feet, the skin on your feet was so white it looked completely drained of all life and you thought that the tips of your toes were slightly blue, but it was difficult to tell in the warm, yellow light of your headlamp. You did as Daryl had instructed and tried to move and wiggle them, mentally trying to summon hot blood back into them. You finally took off your mittens and pulled them on over your feet. Slowly the warmth from your hands began to penetrate the iciness of your skin.

An orange glow flickered to life in the direction Daryl had gone and you watched embers lick up toward the hole in the roof. Daryl reappeared around some shelves and paced over to you. “C’mon,” he said. “Let’s get ya warmed up.” He glanced at your feet and nodded. “Nice socks.”

“Thanks.” Your shivering and stammer was gone. Being out of the wind of the sled and at least protected from the worst of the descending cold of night seemed to allow your body to make some headway toward warmth again. “It’s a new trend I’m starting.” You noted that his hand was chilled as you accepted it and he pulled you to your feet. Daryl gathered up the gear and hauled it along to the fire. The dogs trotted beside you.

There was already a happy blaze and you sank down beside it and warmed your fingers and feet, sticking them out toward the flickering flames. It wasn’t lost on you that you’d almost died in a fire not 40 minutes ago and now the same thing was perhaps saving your toes. The cabin—gone. It was hard to believe it was gone. Gone like your mom and dad. Gone like Brian. All of your old life was now behind, smoldering on the mountain, perhaps trampled under rotting feet. But you’d made it out. No thanks to your own obstinacy, you’d made it out.

Daryl watched you silently for several long minutes, warming his own body in the glow of heat and throwing on more pallet wood to stoke the fire as needed. Finally, he broke the silence. “Ya okay?” he asked. His voice was thick, worried.

But you looked up at him, your eyes a bit teary and sad at first, and then you smiled. It was small and tired, but it was there. “Yeah,” you said with a nod. “I am. Or I will be… I’m with you. The boys are here,” you said reaching over to pet Strider’s ear. “That’s all that matters.”

He nodded, and a wave crashed over him, nearly dragging him under. He tore his eyes away from you and blinked furiously at the tears burning in them, staring instead at the movement in the coals. “I—I really thought I might lose ya,” he admitted. “That fire—it was spreadin’ so quick. And then the roof fallin’ in—”

You hastily pulled off the puffy coat you still had on and laid it down on the ground next to him before sitting on it, scooting close beside him. You leaned against his side and slipped your arm through his. “Me too,” you said. “But then—I heard your voice on the other side of that wall—and I knew you would get me out. I just knew that you’d do everything you could to get me out. You saved me. Again. I can’t ever repay you for all you’ve done.”

Daryl looked over at you in surprise. “Repay me?” His blue eyes flickered between yours again, but you were relieved to see that they were less turbulent. “Ya dun owe me a damn thing.” He leaned in toward you then and kissed your cheek, but it was soft and lingering and it warmed you even better than the fire did.

You laid down close to the fire, tucked against each other that night. Daryl’s arm looped over you protectively. You felt the crash coming hard from the waning of your adrenaline, the terror of your ordeal. “What do we do next?”

Daryl was almost afraid to ask the question, but he did. Part of him still didn’t believe that someone as good as you could come to him and then stay… “Will ya come with me? Back to Alexandria?”

You turned over beneath his arm and leaned up on your forearm, your eyes flickering between his, seeing his fear and his nervousness. “Of course, I will. And not just because of what happened tonight. I—I would have made the same decision if the cabin and everything was still there. I don’t—I don’t want to be parted from you.” You pressed your hand flush to the center of his chest when you said it and Daryl felt a surge of relief and happiness and hope and—

He smiled at you. Just a small one, but it touched the corners of his eyes. “Everybody back home is gonna love ya. Just wait. Ya got a ready-made family waitin’ for ya back there.”

“Waiting for us,” you corrected him.

He nudged his nose up in a nod, that signature Daryl move. “Right. Us. Tomorrow, we’ll see if my bike is still where I left it months ago when I rolled into town—see if it’ll still run. If it ain’t, we’ll figure somethin’ else out. A car… somethin’. Or take the sled as far as we can. And we head home.”

You nodded, thoughtfully biting your bottom lip. “It’s a long fucking way. Do you really think we can make it?”

“Yeah,” he nodded. “I know we can. The two of us together? Are ya kiddin’ me? Ain’t shit standin’ in our way.”

You let out a small laugh at that and then leaned forward and kissed him softly. His hand landed lightly on your neck. Then, exhaustion was winning and you lay down, tucked in against his chest, his arm draping over you again.

_ _ _ _ _ _

Three Months Later “Hey—hey!” Glenn shouted down to Rosita who was standing by the gate. “Did anybody go out today on a run?” he asked, glancing back up to stare down the street in the distance.

“No,” she said, shaking her head. “Why?” Before he could answer, she looked out through the gate and saw the approaching truck too. She hurried to climb the ladder and stood beside Glenn on the guard platform. He had dug out the binoculars and raised them to his eyes.

There was a long silence where he just seemed to be staring, fixedly, at the approaching vehicle.

“What? What is it?” Rosita urged. The truck was still too far away for her to see much with no scope to aid her.

Glenn lowered the binoculars and looked over at her, his eyes a little wide. “Go get Rick—everybody, go get everybody!” he said, almost in a daze.

“What is going on?” she urged him. That’s when his face finally cracked into a wide smile, his eyes a little teary.

“There’s a bike in the back,” he said.

She knew what that meant. “Is it—? Can you see him? Are you sure?” she asked desperately.

Glenn nodded. “Yeah. It’s him. Go get everyone! Hurry!”

In the truck, Daryl glanced over at you in the passenger seat beside him. “Are ya ready for this?” he asked.

You shook your head and shrugged. “I—I dunno. It’s a lot of people,” you laughed. “But I’m—I can’t wait to meet them. Nervous though…” you added. Bear stood, sensing the end of the journey somehow and tapping his paws excitedly on the back seat, giving a big stretch and a loud yawn and whine. Looking ahead you could see the gate, just as he’d described it, and the sign posted on the wall: Alexandria Safe Zone. Mercy for the Lost. Vengeance for the Plunderers.

Daryl’s hand landed over yours and gave it a gentle squeeze. “They’re gonna love ya. Ya ain’t got any reason to be nervous. I know it.”

The brakes squealed as the truck came to a stop in front of the gate. Daryl flashed the lights three times, the old signal they’d always used that the coast was clear to open it. He nudged his head toward his door and you nodded. You both climbed out, the dogs jumping out after you, climbing over the center console to get outside. As the metal gate rattled, drawn back by someone you couldn’t yet see. It rolled to the side to reveal a small crowd gathering. More people were rushing up the street to join them. You met Daryl’s eyes again as he stepped around his door and gave you a warm smile. Home. He was happy to be home. And you were with him. You’d made it.

Daryl shut his door and strode forward. You stopped by the front of the truck, hanging back a little awkwardly. “Stay, boys,” you murmured to the dogs. They heeled on either side of you, but Strider was wagging his tail and Bear was whining a little, looking ahead at all the people.

“Move! Watch out,” a voice rose from the crowd and a woman with short silver hair burst through. A huge grin spread on her face when she saw him walking toward the gate. Carol. It must be Carol. She rushed to him and threw her arms around him in a huge hug, then pulled back to clasp his face between her hands before hugging him again, a teary, broad smile on her face, her eyes squeezed shut. Daryl hugged her back, but looked up as the crowd parted and a lean man with curly hair broke through with a little girl in his arms at a light jog.

“Maggie, would you hold her?” Rick murmured, almost not believing his eyes as he glanced back up at Daryl standing there, Carol now at his side. Maggie, happy tears on her cheeks already, held Judith. Rick’s eyes flickered over to you briefly but then landed back on Daryl again. His expression was almost disbelief at first and then it melted into emotion he was trying hard to hold back. He walked right up to Daryl and gripped his shoulder hard, looking him square in the eye and nodding, gulping emotion back. “Where the hell have you been?” he drawled, his face finally breaking into a smile touched with tears, and he pulled Daryl into a hug, clasping the back of his neck. “God, it’s good to see you brother.”

You bit your bottom lip, choking back your own emotion at the reunion, and feeling like you were intruding on something. After Daryl broke from Rick, he was quickly surrounded as his family came one by one to welcome him home—Michonne clasped his face and kissed his cheek, Eric and Aaron hugged him with broad smiles and pats on the back, Glenn gave him a hasty hug, Maggie pressed her palm gently to his cheek and Daryl stroked Judith’s soft blond hair. He was chewing on his bottom lip hard, trying to stop himself from completely going to pieces. Carol and Rick never left his side, but after a few minutes the rest of the Alexandrians who weren’t part of Daryl’s core group wandered away with plenty to talk about. Who was that standing there with the two dogs? Do you think its Brian’s sister? Did he really find her? He can’t have made it all the way to Montana and back!

Finally, he was able to gather himself and looked back at you still standing by the car, running your fingers through Bear’s thick fur nervously, biting your bottom lip. He cleared his throat and caught Rick’s eyes again. “Rick—uhh, everybody… This is Y/N. She’s—she’s Brian’s twin sister. And that’s Bear and Strider,” he said, pacing over to pat the big lab on his head and tousle his ears around.

For a moment everyone just stared at you, mostly good-natured looks on their faces, sure, but also some pity and grief and curiosity and wariness mixed in. Daryl met your eyes and gave a questioning look to ask non-verbally, are you okay? You nodded and managed a tight smile to tell him you were, though your nerves were fizzing.

“Well, what the hell are we standing around out here for?” Carol said finally, grinning again. “Come inside!”

There was some laughter and they all moved back in past the gate.

“I’mma drive the truck in, alrigh’?” Daryl said to Rick, who gave you another appraising look and then nodded. “See ya at the house in a few.”

Carol came and gave his arm a gentle touch. “We missed you,” she said. “See you in a minute.” She glanced at you and gave you a tight smile which you did your best to return, though you were so overwhelmed and nervous you weren’t sure it came off.

“C’mon,” Daryl said, nudging his head back toward the truck. He whistled and opened the passenger side door for you and the dogs. They bounded right back in and you slid in past him. The door shut with a snap and you realized you’d been holding your breath.

Daryl climbed in behind the steering wheel again and started the engine. “Ya okay?” he asked, shifting into drive.

You nodded. “Yeah. Just—a bit overwhelmed is all.”

He nodded. “Well, ya’d been alone up there a long time. I know this is a lot. Ya want me to tell everybody ya just need some space for tonight?”

“What? No! No, I want to meet everyone,” you argued. “I do. I just need to remember to breathe,” you said with a laugh.

He nodded and his eyes flickered over your face. “I’ll be right by ya the whole time.”

“I know,” you nodded.

“And if ya do need a break, they’ll all understand.”

“I’m good,” you said.

It was a quick drive to park in front of the group’s two houses. Maggie and Glenn were waiting outside when you pulled up, and you saw Rick on the porch, though he stepped back inside as you all were climbing out.

“Is this the same bike?” Glenn asked Daryl, looking at the motorcycle in the bed of the truck.

“More or less,” he drawled. “Lots of parts went to shit on the road and had to be patched up or replaced, but most of it made it.”

Maggie was grinning as the dogs ran to greet her and she bent down to let them lick her face and to give them lots of scratches and pets. “They’re adorable,” she said.

“I tell them all the time,” you said.

“We always had dogs on the farm,” she said, scratching under Bear’s chin. The next moment she stood up and pulled you into a gentle hug. You expected her to break from you quickly, but she didn’t. She really hugged you for a long moment, and you hugged her back through your surprise. “I’m so glad you’re here. We all are,” she said. Her southern drawl was sweet and warm. “We—we all loved Brian so much.” Tears bit her vision as she said it.

You nodded and swallowed at the lump in your throat. “I know you did. Thank you for that. Daryl’s told me so much about all of you and—and I’m so grateful to be here.”

“Well, let’s get you and these cute dogs inside. We don’t need to stand out here all night. Come on in and have something to eat and drink,” she said.

You glanced back at Daryl where he was talking with Glenn still and he started after you and Maggie up the porch steps and into the warm light.

Everyone was crowded around in the kitchen after you and Daryl had time to clean up and get some food and water into you. Now there was wine being passed around and the atmosphere seemed suddenly charged as a natural lull fell in all the conversation. You and Daryl looked up and met each other’s eyes at the same time.

“Well?” Carol snapped suddenly. “Tell us everything!” she laughed. “You’ve kept us waiting long enough!” The tension seemed to break and many of Daryl’s family laughed.

He let out a gruff laugh too. “I think both of us are a little too tired for everythin’ tonight,” he said. “But we can give ya a few bits from the journey back.” He glanced over at you beside him and you nodded. “We hit a blizzard in Wyoming. Literally couldn’t see yer damn hand in front of yer face. Got snowed in for six days.”

“Daryl killed his first elk in Wyoming too,” you added with a proud smile.

“We were ambushed by hunters in South Dakota. Was a bit touchy and go but we got the best of ‘em,” he went on. “Most of Iowa was a wasteland. We dropped south to avoid the Chicago metro area, but we still saw some of the biggest hordes I’ve ever seen. Had a car wreck in Indiana and then got attacked by some group of assholes—” He almost reached for your hand at that moment. It had been one of the most terrifying, lowest points of the journey back. He could still see the gash you’d gotten on your head and the cut on your neck healing. “Uhh,” he rubbed a hand over the back of his neck instead of reaching for you. “After that, a lot of the roads were fucked or camped on by groups who didn’t look too friendly. We ended up going way south to Kentucky and trying to stay off the main roads after that…”

“Flooding in West Virginia,” you added. “We had to go way around.”

“Yeah. And then—somehow, we got back here.”

The silence settled thickly again until Tara suddenly raised a glass, a welcoming smile on her face. “To family, new and old,” she said.

“To family,” Rick echoed, giving the first wide smile you’d really seem him break into all night.

Carol raised her glass and cleared her throat. “May we look forward with hope and backward without regret,” she said.

“Hear, hear!” Abraham exclaimed, hugging an arm more tightly around Rosita.

Everyone drank, and you felt full in a way that had nothing to do with the good meal and everything to do with the warmth, safety, and welcoming company. When you glanced at Daryl at your side, his eyes were already on you.

The evening wore on and some people drifted away to bed little by little, but many of you were still gathered in the cozy space of the living room.

Daryl had stepped outside for some air and not long after Rick stepped out onto the porch and came to stand beside him, gripping his shoulder briefly and giving him a classic Rick Grimes smile. He glanced back in through the illuminated window at you sitting with Maggie and Glenn on the couch. Bear was curled up at your feet on the floor, content to snooze. Strider was hamming it up getting belly scratches from Carl and Abraham, thoroughly enjoying all the attention. Carol was cuddling Judith and seemed to be watching you closely, but not in a suspicious way—just taking you in. It wasn’t lost on anyone how you and Daryl seemed to relate to each other, his regard for you and yours for him, how he hadn’t left your side all night, the clear chemistry though no one had seen any sort of touch pass between you. “So, am I wrong or did you find more than just Brian’s sister in Montana?”

Daryl scruffed a hand through his long hair and nodded once. “Yeah… more than I bargained for, tha’s for damn sure,” he said, turning to look in at you and the warm scene with his family gathered around. He leaned back on the railing and drew in a deep breath of the cool spring air. “She saved my life,” he drawled. “I think in more than one way.”

Rick smiled. “I have a feeling you’ve done the same for her. She was up there all alone?” he asked. Daryl nodded.

“Yeah. And not just survivin’, but almost thrivin’ up there in a lotta ways. I know she left a piece of her heart back in them mountains. S’gonna be an adjustment here for sure…”

Rick nodded. “Well, it was for all of us. You especially,” he pointed out. “As for that piece of her heart, I’m pretty sure you’ll be able to help her with that too. Give her a new one.” He sighed again. “It’s good to have you home, brother. We never gave up hope but we were worried—we were starting to think maybe you wouldn’t be coming back to us.”

He ducked his head and nodded. “Yeah… It was a long haul. Twice,” he said with a wry laugh.

“But worth it?” Rick asked.

Daryl looked up at you through the window again. You were bathed in a golden glow and surrounded by other people he loved. It was better than he ever thought he’d have, even before everything went to shit. “Hell yeah.”

Rick laughed happily. “Now, one more thing… You aren’t takin’ her down to sleep in the basement, are you?” Rick asked, cocking an eyebrow at him, an amused look on his face.

Daryl scoffed. “The hell is wrong with my room in the basement?”

“Well, there’s a washer and dryer in it for starters. Second, it’s a basement,” Rick teased him. “Seems like you aren’t a bachelor anymore, Daryl. Take one of the rooms upstairs. We’ve got spares.”

Daryl sighed. “We can—figure that all out tomorrow. I was thinkin’—maybe she and I would just get a place…” Rick smiled at this. “For tonight, we just wanna crash. We’ve been livin’ on the road so long now, few months. Ain’t been stayin’ in the same place more than a couple days at a time, ya know? Will be nice to put down roots again.”

Rick’s eyes were crinkled in a smile. “Can’t wait to see what grows.”

“Me either.”

Daryl followed Rick back in, and you looked up and gave him a tired smile as he came in, trying to blink the waiting sleep from your eyes.

“Whatcha think?” he drawled, leaning forward on his hands on the back of the couch just behind you.

“I’m exhausted,” you laughed.

“Yeah, me too,” he mused, looking around at his remaining family. Judith had fallen asleep in Carol’s arms and everyone was cooing at her. “C’mon,” he said, nudging his nose up. “Let’s slip away while we can.”

You happily agreed and jumped the back of the couch, but your sneaky exit was immediately ruined by the dogs needing to follow. Hoots and hollers rose behind you but the two of you hurried out anyway, calling back only a few goodnights. Daryl grabbed your hand and led you toward the stairs. “We can crash in my old space tonight.” He could hear Rick in his head. “Uhh—but it ain’t much… s’just a mattress in the basement mostly,” he drawled.

“Better than we’ve had for a while. And as long as you’re there, I don’t care if it’s a moldy carpet on the floor,” you said.

Daryl snorted and looked down at you. “Moldy? Really?”

“Daryl, I’m so exhausted I could fall asleep standing up right now,” you said, yawning as soon as the words left your mouth.

“Well, ya dun have to do that,” he said. “C’mon. We can both get some deep sleep tonight… It’s safe here. Safest place I’ve ever had… ‘cept maybe for that cabin of yours.”

“More,” you said. “My cabin didn’t have big ass walls all around it.”

“This way,” he drawled, still holding your hand, fingers laced with yours. You followed him down the staircase and into a dim room. It looked like any normal basement; a washer and dryer on one wall, random boxes and storage. But there in one corner was a mattress, neatly made and piled with blankets and pillows. He patted a hand down on them expecting to see a puff of dust, but none arose. “Huh. Somebody musta made the bed up fresh while we were getting cleaned up.”

“My money is on Maggie,” you said, collapsing down onto the blankets and sinking in. “I like her,” you said, before another yawn interrupted you. The dogs settled on the rug.

“I like you,” he said, climbing toward you and caging you beneath his body. He stroked your hair away from your forehead and your eyes shut at his touch. “Maybe a bit too much…” he drawled, smiling. He leaned down and kissed your cheek, and then your lips. You were already drifting toward sleep.

“Too much? Not possible. And only like?” you smiled, opening your eyes again.

He gave you a look and you laughed. “Ya know—ya know I love ya,” he said. He still sounded somewhat shy when he said it… like he couldn’t believe he got to say it at all.

You gave him a sleepy smile. “I love you, too. And I’ll live down here in the spider webby basement or sleep on a moldy rug if I have to…”

He laughed and leaned in to tuck his face against the crook of your neck and breathe in your smell, his body now flush to yours. “Nah. We’re gonna build our own space together. You’ll see. But for now—my bachelor bed is the best I’ve got for tonight.” He lay down beside you and tugged you in against his body, much the same way he had by the fire that night when you’d escaped the flames and the horde. Your breathing was soon soft and deep.

“G’night,” you sighed, snuggling in, already falling into a warm, contented sleep you hadn’t had since long before, back in the cabin after you and Daryl had finally become something more.

“Night,” he breathed. Just before he fell asleep, he sent a thought to Brian, up into the ether, to tell him that he’d done as he’d promised, that you were here and you were safe, and he was going to make sure he protected you with his life… but better yet, that he’d build a life with you that he never thought he could have. I promise. I’ll do right by her. I swear on my life.

The End.

A/N: I hope you enjoyed reading this series as much as I enjoyed writing it. I can’t wait to embark on a new series in the near future, and I have a lot of waiting one shots I have been holding off on until this was finished. And here we are! Bittersweet, it is. 

[peachyjinx]

Eggnog

Pairing: Loki x Reader

Word Count: 704

Genre: Fluff

Warnings: Soft!Loki, established relationship, implied smut

You take a  pause from reading your book, gently marking where you left off as you set it down with a contented sigh. Your eyes drift out of the large windows on the opposite wall, watching the snow gently fall, and you feel a peacefulness drift over you. 

"I have brought you something that Ms. Potts was preparing for the party downstairs. It's called 'eggnog', which frankly does not sound appetizing," your boyfriend Loki wrinkled his nose as he walked into the quiet common area, carrying two mugs. 

You smile at the raven haired prince from your comfortable spot on the couch, covered in a soft blanket. Loki sets your drinks on the side table next to you, and sits down beside you, bringing his cup to his soft lips with a look of curiosity on his face.  You watch the handsome God finish his sip, his face changing as he studies the drink's flavors. 

"What do you think?", you ask, unable to contain the huge grin spreading across your face in amusement at watching him try another new Earth food.

Loki raises his eyebrows and looks at you,  "Surprisingly delicious, I can see why she was making a large quantity. Are there other nogs to choose from?”.

You giggle and pick up your mug, “No, that’s the only nog as far as I know!”.

You take a sip of the hot beverage, savoring it as the flavors bounce on your tongue. You realize it may be the best eggnog you've ever had, and let out a quiet moan as the holiday beverage dances over your tongue. The spices are beautifully, delicately balanced, and the alcohol is not overpowering. You feel the warmth spread throughout your chest as you take another drink. 

"So Darling, the Midgardian holidays are fast approaching. I realize you already told me you don't want anything, but are you sure? You do realize I'm an Asgardian God who can get you anything you'd want?" Loki gives you a knowing smile and gently nudges you with his shoulder as he moves closer to you.

You think about his offer for a moment. You have everything you want- a safe home, job, friends, and the most important- Loki. As you mull it over, you gaze at the man next to you, his chiseled features softened from his relaxed mood. Loki is dressed in a tight forest green sweater and tight black slacks which accent his shape perfectly. His silken dark hair dances on his shoulders as he turns to look at you and sets his mug down. He smiles sweetly and places his large hand on your thigh, gently squeezing. 

You feel heat in your cheeks and a need to feel closer to him. 

"What I really want, more than anything…is some cuddles," you coyly smile and lift the blanket, beckoning him behind you.

"Mmmm and how could I not comply with that request?," Loki purrs warmly. 

You lean forward, giving space for Loki to slide onto the couch against the arm, and he surrounds you with his body, wrapping his arms around you. You settle in his lap, holding your mug while you lean back against Loki's chest, feeling his warmth envelop you. Loki nuzzles his nose into your hair around your ear, tickling you with his hot breath. 

"Since I have already given you your gift, I think we should discuss mine," Loki’s deep voice vibrates through his chest. He gently tightens his strong arms around you, making you giggle. 

“Oh I can’t wait to hear this. What would you like, Loki?,” you tease him gently. 

"My holiday wish is for us to skip the party tonight so that I can have you all to myself, " Loki requests, sending heat to your core. He gently takes your mug out of your hand, setting it on the table. His large hands begin to caress your curves under the blanket, and he moves your head to the side, baring your neck to him. He begins to press small, hot kisses into your neck while you softly moan. 

You crane your neck to look at him, and see his blue eyes sparkle with mischief and love. 

"Yea, I think I can give you that," you beam at him, leaning in for your first kiss of many for the evening. 

My words were:

Eggnog, warmth, cuddles prompt from @muddyorbsblr . I hope you like it! 💚🎅

---

Peachyjinx Masterlist

[flecks-of-stardust]

Mercy — A Rain World Short Story

If you die, may you not die alone and afraid.

Five Pebbles, while reminiscing about the past, encounters a strange creature.

Contains spoilers for Saint's campaign; read at your own discretion.

[Five Pebbles]

The same faltering melody, repeating over and over into oblivion. The pearl is warm in his hands as the music stutters, wavering in time with the howling of the blizzard around him.

It is a hymn. That is all he remembers. The contents of the hymn, why it was written, when it was first sung… He accepted the loss eons ago. It was inevitable; even when his structure was intact, bits and pieces would drift away from him, lost to his self-created ruin. But given enough time, as much as he has sat through now, even the best of circumstances would have decayed into nothingness. 

But even as the rest of his memories fade, what little is left of him swept away by the frigid winds, he remembers crimson fur and soft paws throwing a pearl at his face. He hadn’t paid her much heed then. Hadn’t thought this pearl would bring him such comfort. That this memory of her would bring him comfort. 

That happened millennia ago. The turning of the wheels of time have left both of them behind. Try as he might, her specific shade of crimson is lost to history, but he remembers her as the crackling song plays, the notes barely audible over the screaming wind. 

He doesn’t know what befell her, why she stopped visiting all those years ago. Or perhaps he did know, and simply forgot. It makes no difference now. 

Memories of times long past… Moon used to tease him for his fascination with history. She was ever practical, always looking to the future, while he would stare back into the past. Even now they are the same. 

“I love you.” Her last words to him. He tried to say it back, tried to respond even as he felt his structure crumbling below him. He doesn’t know if she ever heard him. 

… Suns… Their last conversation… It’s too late for him to apologize. Too late for him to tell them that he finally understands what they were trying to tell him all those years ago. Do they still think about him? So much time has passed since they last spoke. If anything at all, he hopes they are in a better condition than he is in. 

Time has taken all from him. All he has left are fragmented memories, and this pearl with its shuddering song. Looking into the myriad of cracks on its surface, he can hear Suns’ teasing laughter, can feel Moon’s calm confidence, can see the reflection of a scarred face, long since gone. All these recollections of better times… 

A gust of wind blows his way, sending snow into his face; he flinches, his shaking hands losing their grip on the pearl. Straining, he reaches for it, but stops as he notices the furry green creature standing in front of him. It stares at him, blinking snow out of its eyes. He stares back; its shape is familiar. 

The first sound to escape him after many cycles of frozen inactivity is a grinding squeak, one that makes the green thing recoil in alarm. He tries again, forcing air through the corroded metal of his voice module. “Little… green thing…” he rasps, struggling to project his voice over the howling of the snowstorm. “Hello.” 

It creeps a little closer, sinking down to its belly as it stares up at him. Such a curious gaze. “Nothing here,” he warns, the frigid air shuddering through his puppet. “Nothing… left.” Nothing but memories. Even those are fading. 

It stays there, watching him, unmoving as the snow drifts down around it. He returns its gaze for a moment, then resumes his routine, retrieving his pearl and playing its fractured music again. Once more, the world is little else but this song and his memories amid the howling winds, but ever so slightly, it is warmer. 

Company is rare; the occasional critter stumbles its way in, but they never stay long. If the biting chill doesn’t drive it away, the snow that piles up around him will. But there is a certain deliberacy that shimmers in the eyes of this creature, one that doesn’t wane as the cycle wears on. 

Eventually, though, it seems to drift off, closing its eyes as his pearl continues to play its broken tune. It doesn’t move even as the blizzard crescendos again, the bitter cold eating away at his puppet. With a sigh, he drops his pearl, reaching out to gently shake the critter awake. “Please find… warmth,” he says to it as it blinks up at him with drowsy eyes. “Cold is danger.”

Not moving, it continues staring at him, the layer of snow on it rapidly growing. He shakes it again, dislodging some of the snow. “Find heat,” he says firmly, pushing it away from him. 

Reluctantly (or perhaps he is projecting?), the green creature gets up, shaking the snow out of its fur, and begins padding away from him. The blizzard swallows it swiftly, the ice in the air whipping around too fast for him to keep track of where the snow ends and where the critter starts. In a mere few seconds, he is alone again. He turns back to his pearl, submerging himself into its familiar, creaking melody as the storm rages on. 

Familiarity is a comfort. He has little else to occupy his time with now. It is just him, and his pearl. 

The storm waxes and wanes. The snowfall returns to a gentle drift, and the wind gusts settle down into a delicate breeze. He remains, unmoving, his pearl continuing its faltering song. 

The cold is less intense today. Moon will enjoy it; she never liked the cold. She… 

… he is still cold, in spite of the reprieve. He bunches himself up tighter, his joints creaking as he shifts. 

Soft footsteps, pathing through the snow. He looks up and is greeted by the furry green creature again. It lays down at his feet, staring up at him. Puzzled, he peers down at it. “Why back?” he questions.

There is no response besides a short trill from the green creature, which rolls over onto its back, still staring at him. He leaves it be.

… his pearl. He dropped it. Trailing his fingers through the snow, he searches for it. What did it look like again…? 

The green creature drops its head onto his feet with another trill. Something clinks against his feet; it’s a pearl. His pearl. He picks it up, holding it in both his hands, and then looks down at the green creature. “Thank… you,” he croaks. 

It only stares at him, blinking snow out of its eyes, with its curious, unwavering gaze. 

… familiarity… 

He extends a hand towards the green creature. It shrinks away from him, nose twitching as it stares at his hand, but after a moment’s hesitation, it presses its head against him. 

… it’s comforting. Hesitating briefly, he brushes his shaking hand down the length of the creature’s back. It doesn’t move away, instead curling up next to him. Its body is warm. He continues stroking its fur.

He doesn’t look up until the wind whips snow into his face. The same frigid, deadly routine. He gently shakes the green creature. “Cold coming. Please… go.” 

It looks up at him, letting out a sleepy chirp. He nudges it away from him. “Don’t… freeze.” 

It grabs onto his hand; he flinches, reflexively trying to shake it off. But it merely holds it, then presses the side of its face into it, staring up at him. He stares back. 

Then it drops his hand, bounding off into the snow. He is alone again. 

The blizzard is colder than before. 

Snow, everywhere. Piled around him. Soft.

Soft, like fur. Green thing’s fur…

He used to… there’s something…

… can’t remember… 

Suns said something about… softness…

… green thing again. Crawls straight into his lap. Ragged purring, pressing its body against him. He pets it. “Thank you… for… company,” he mumbles. 

Purring. Vibrating through him. He wraps his arms around the thing. Fingers through its fur. 

… familiar. Ancient memories…

… it’s warm…

—(Line breaker)— …through the mists of memory, your image dances... —(Line breaker)—

[Looks to the Moon]

A distant splash sounds. She looks up, startled. A visitor, in the midst of this snowstorm? 

She lowers herself down to the floor of her chamber as a green furred creature slithers out of the water, shaking itself vigorously. The frigid liquid splatters everywhere, and she shields herself from the spray with an incredulous laugh. A little visitor, just like all those that came before it. She had thought they had gone extinct by now. “Hello little creature,” she croons, extending a hand towards it. “How tenacious you are, to make it here.” 

It stands at the mouth of her chamber, blinking at her. She sits down on her little island of rubble, allowing herself a soft, sad chuckle as she pulls her legs towards her chest. Just like how all the others had reacted when they first saw her. How she misses them. “It has been a while since I had a lifeform like you stumble into my chamber,” she says, wrapping her arms around her legs. “It is good to know some of your species have persisted.”

It creeps a little closer, paddling through the small moat around her island. She helps it out of the water, then laughs as it shakes itself off again, drenching her in the process. “Quite the coat of fur you have there,” she coos, reaching out a hand to it again. It plops its head onto her hand, allowing her to scratch under its chin. “A lovely adaptation in these icy cycles, I’m sure. I hope the journey here did not wet your fur too much.” 

As if in response, it chirps, settling down onto the rubble. It lets her pet it with no protest, and she runs both her hands through its thick, dense fur. None of the others had quite this much, though back then, it would have just been a hindrance. When did they evolve to have this, then? The world has been frozen for quite some time, after all. 

She glances down as something clinks against the floor. The little green creature is holding up a pearl to her. “Oh? Where did you find this?” she wonders, reaching for the pearl. 

She nearly drops it into the water as her hands make contact with it. It’s warm, so much warmer than anything should be in this climate. “This—” She shudders, her breath catching. “You—”

It mewls at her, dark eyes wide and confused. She shoves the pearl back into its paws. “Please, return this,” she pleads, closing its paws around the pearl. “I am sure what little is left of him misses this dearly. Bring it back to him, I beg of you.” 

It looks down at the pearl, then back up at her, holding it up to her again. A sob escapes her, and she pushes at the creature. “Please. Go. Bring it back to him.”

It still doesn’t move. She stills. She knows they’re more intelligent than this. “Is he…” 

The little creature crawls into her lap, staring up at her with the pearl still clutched in its paws. A broken sob, with part of a laugh mixed in, falls out of her. “Did he suffer?” 

It can’t respond. She knows that. But—

The little creature drapes itself on her, its tail curling around her waist. A deep, rhythmic purring emanates from it, rattling through her as it fills the silence in the air around them. Its weight is heavy but warm against her. 

She wraps her arms around it and cries. 

[vivi-the-sky-kid]

Sowing the Seeds (of Love), Chapter 4

Aka the Resh/OC Fix-It Fic Nobody Asked for but I’m Inflicting on All of You Anyways as Punishment for Kai’s Your Hubris

The King has always been a mysterious figure in the annals of the Sky Kingdom’s history, generating both awe and fear within the hearts of the sky spirits. Few can claim to have met them in person; certainly not Tav, a researcher of light creatures for the Vault of Knowledge. But when they discover their research may be used to harm the very creatures they know and love, Tav knows they cannot allow this to happen.

Somehow, they must change the King’s mind. If that means throwing butterflies at their royal face, then so be it.

-<◇>-

Warnings: Will be added to each chapter when necessary, but there’s not gonna be anything graphic in this (do send me an ask if you think there’s something I should warn about tho)

Rating: T (just to be on the safe side)

Pairing(s): Resh/OC

Tag(s): Enemies to Lovers, Fake Dating, Canon Divergence, Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies

Additional Tag(s): Resh and Alef are twins, Resh and Tav are both nonbinary, Resh uses he/they, Tav uses she/they, Resh is demiromantic and pansexual, Tav is biromantic and demisexual, no beta we die like moths in eden

Chapters: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12

-<◇>-

Chapter 4

Word Count: 3528

Warning(s): None

-<◇>-

“Tav, sweetie, what are you doing?”

A young spirit twisted to look at their caretaker, then back to the window they had been staring out of. Flakes of snow drifted from the sky, bits of white that glittered like stars in the light of the setting sun, but they were not the white Tav had been hoping to see.

She sighed. “I’m looking for Shin.”

Clothes rustled and footsteps softly thudded behind them, and between one flake and the next, their caretaker had come to stand beside them. Though their mask of dark gray stone hid most of their expression, the dimmed glow of their eyes was proof enough of their concern.

“And why are you looking for them, Tav?” they said. Their chirpy voice should have been a comfort. All it did was remind them of what they were missing.

More snow fell before Tav answered, her head resting on folded arms. “I miss them.”

“Oh, sweetie…”

Their caretaker knelt and pulled them into a hug. She nestled her face into their neck. The contained warmth of a star radiated into them from their body, so different from the almost searing heat of a light creature, and yet so similar.

Birdsong from outside caught their attention, and Tav whipped back to the window, their scruffy ponytail nearly smacking their caretaker’s mask clean off their face. There, in the sky! Was that…?

It was!

Tav’s eyes and mouth were wide with joy as a large bird glided down to the windowsill, the upper half of their head covered by a plate of gray and golden stone. They opened their beak, and out came, “Tav? You up?”

She blinked. That… wasn’t what Shin sounded like. And yet it was familiar. Like the voice of a dear friend…

“Taaav~! Time to wake up!”

And Tav did.

The sky visible from the window over her bed glowed with the hues of dawn. Outside, distant birds chirped. The perfume of Prairie’s multitude of flowers drifted in on the arms of a light breeze. There was no sign of Shin anywhere.

They sighed, then rolled onto their side. Only a dream. It was… only a dream.

Shin had never come back, after all. No matter how badly she had wanted it.

“Tav? Are you up yet?” Kumibir called from elsewhere in the house, interrupting that particular train of thought.

Tav sat up, ruffled their loose hair with half a scowl, and called back, “I’m up, I’m up…”

“Good! Breakfast is almost done, so hurry up and get ready! You have a busy day ahead of you~”

They sighed again. What they wouldn’t give to return to their dream… Still, Kumibir was right. There was much to do, and the more she sat around, the less time she would have to do it.

Tav dressed quickly, and while their hairstyle was rather more complicated than others, years of practice had it shifting into place with one final click of the hair clip and a quick press of the feather locks. Now all she needed was her mask…

Their gaze landed on a small table across the room. Resting amongst the clutter on its surface were three masks: Resh's diamond-crested one, the plain one she normally wore, and a dark mask with two small, golden triangles beneath the eyes. Resh’s mask, of course, would stay there. They’d get it back soon. Eventually. Maybe. As for the other two…

After a moment’s thought, Tav passed over her ordinary mask and grabbed the dark one instead. Maybe it was the lingering dream talking, but today, they would wear this one. A reminder of where they came from, and why they were doing this.

This was the mask of her adoptive family, after all.

-<◇>-

True to their word, Resh was already waiting at the pier by the time Tav left the house, the zigzags of their cape glittering in the sun's first golden rays like the manta bells. Beside her, Kumibir hummed a cheerful tune. It grated against the knot in Tav's stomach, but there was no way they could tell em that.

Ey pulled her in close for a brief hug and a pat on the shoulder.

“Now, don't forget to tell that partner of yours that I want them over for dinner tonight, okay?”

Tav sighed, their shoulders and their expression sinking. “That really isn't necessary, Kumibir—”

“Of course it is! Never let it be said that Prairie’s hospitality is lacking! It may not compare to the fine dining of Eden, but I'm sure he'll appreciate it.” With that, ey raised a hand in a wave to Resh, who politely nodded back. Winking and grinning at Tav, Kumibir set off for the solar altar.

She stared after em with a long-suffering look. As endearing as eir aggressive kindness could be, it was the last thing they needed right now. Ey had the perceptiveness of a seasoned field researcher and the tenacity of one of the Valley's rising stars. If ey got too close, ey'd figure out that this partnership was a lie.

Ey'd learn the real reason behind Resh's visit.

Their hands clenched, nails painfully digging into the meat of their palms, and they scowled at the ground. Visions of Kumibir's betrayed expression, of the resulting coldness, floated before her eyes. They took a deep, calming breath, then another. In, hold, out. In, hold, out. The tension eased from her shoulders; her pounding heart slowed down; the dark cloud over her mind fizzled away.

Everything was going to be fine. It had to be.

Composure regained, they turned and walked up to Resh, raising a hand in greeting. “There you are. Sleep well, darling?”

Their eyes widened the smallest of slivers before they nodded.

“As well as can be expected, my dear.” He leveled a cool gray gaze on her, opened his mouth as if about to ask something, then closed it. Whatever they had been about to say, they must have thought better of it. Instead, Resh raised an eyebrow and nodded at Kumibir's receding back. “Dare I ask what the two of you were discussing?”

“Just... dinner plans for tonight,” Tav said hastily, before hurrying away to the waiting boat.

Resh fell into step beside them—an easy enough task, given his remarkable height—and remarked, “I see you’re wearing a different mask today. What’s the occasion?”

“It’s my family’s. I just felt like wearing it today,” she replied.

They hummed thoughtfully at that. Tav could feel his gaze lingering on them, but to their surprise, he said nothing more on the subject. Instead, they said, “So, where are we going this time?”

“Bird Nest.”

-<◇>-

Much like the Butterfly Fields, it was easy to see why Bird Nest was named that. Flying above and below and around and pretty much everywhere in this particular section of Daylight Prairie were river-like flocks of birds, with a few small manta squadrons lazily soaring with them. It would have been quite the jaw-dropping sight… if Resh’s hadn’t been clenched tooth-achingly tight. Naturally, Tav noticed (those accursed researcher eyes) and tilted their head to the side.

"What's wrong? You don't look so good."

They didn't feel good, either. Something about the ever-present, warm updraft made his skin burn softly. The motes swept up with the air currents weren't helping—every tiny flake that brushed against their bare face stung like rain in high winds.

"What… is this place?" he ground out, trying to repress the urge to shudder.

"This is the Bird Nest. Lots of light creatures pass through here, but it's mainly home to birds,” Tav declared, though the confidence in their voice was undermined by the brief looks they kept shooting him as they spoke.

Resh snorted, just a little, and straightened their shoulders. "Really. I had no idea."

"I know, who'd've thought?" They were smiling when they met his eyes, but quickly looked away and folded their arms before them. "A-Anyways, come on. Time for your next lesson on light creatures."

"Let me guess: birds."

It was, indeed, birds.

-<◇>-

Tav spoke as they walked along the central island. Gesturing all the while, they explained that, while butterflies often found themselves in groups simply because of their dietary habits, birds chose to gather together. A flock offered benefits that flying solo, so to speak, did not, such as being able to support one another with their collective heat and light. That was how long migratory streams like those here functioned. By sharing their light with one another, the flock could fly for days—weeks, even—without needing to rest. And this support wasn’t extended solely to other birds.

"They'll care for anyone they see as one of them,” she said. “Doesn't matter how different a person is—once they become part of the flock, they're there to stay."

There was something wistful to Tav's gaze as they spoke, but he couldn't quite pinpoint the cause.

Well, whatever. It didn't matter right now. What mattered was getting this accursed lesson over with. The sooner they were out of this place, the sooner he would stop feeling so weird.

Resh folded their arms in front of their chest. "And how, exactly, do you get them to see you as 'one of the flock'?"

"Let me show you.” Tav waved, and he followed their gaze to see another star wave back from a distant island. One short ride on a manta-drawn boat later, they were walking up to the two of them. Their eyes kept shifting back and forth between Resh and Tav, but they seemed friendly enough.

“Welcome back, Tav. I wasn’t expecting to see you again so soon,” the spirit said.

“Truth be told, I wasn’t expecting to return quite so soon, either. But something came up, so here I am,” Tav replied. They looked up at him. Her shoulders sank ever so slightly, but her voice was pleasant as she gestured to them and said, “This is the something, by the way. Ivox, meet Resh, my… partner. He was interested in learning about my work, so I brought him here. Resh, this is Ivox, the local bird whisperer.”

“It’s a pleasure,” Ivox said with a wave, the spike of hair atop their head bobbing with the motion.

Resh’s eyes narrowed in thought. Unlike most of Prairie’s denizens, their voice was remarkably similar to Tav’s. How curious.

He bowed slightly. “The pleasure is all mine.”

“I suppose you need me to whisper to a few birds, then?” they said, winking at Tav.

Tav nodded.

“One lesson, coming right up, then!”

They stepped away and held out an arm, chirping out a tune Resh didn't recognize. A few birds did, however, and they landed on their arm without hesitation. A couple were a solid, gleaming white, like the snows of the Valley. The others had golden markings on their heads and tails (signs of domestication, Tav had explained earlier). Ivox and the birds exchanged more chirps—at one point, they all turned to face Resh, who looked back warily—before the birds flew down to the ground at their feet. Their talk (apparently) completed, they walked back to the pair.

“It seems the first step is to be less intimidating. You’re a rather scary-looking person, Resh. The birds don’t even want to go near you right now.”

Resh folded their arms against their chest. “I see. And how, exactly, am I supposed to go about looking less… scary?”

Ivox and Tav shared a look. Then the two studied him with a startling intensity. Tav’s gaze drifted up towards his head, and he could nearly see the figurative lightbulb appear over their head. Sure enough, she walked up to them and patted their pizaine.

"Take this off. You don't need it. No one's gonna attack you here."

"Somehow, I don't quite believe you…" His eyes landed on Ivox, and he hastily added, "...my dear."

"Please, darling? For me?" they said, batting their eyes.

They glanced from Ivox and their birds to Tav, weighing their options, before heaving a sigh. Hewn from the same stone as the boats and floating platforms of the Kingdom, the pizaines of the Sky Kingdom's soldiers were tough but light, and Resh lifted it from his shoulders with ease. They set it down on the grass nearby with a muffled thump, then threw their arms out to the sides.

“Is this better?”

-<◇>-

As they had hoped, removing the pizaine softened Resh's silhouette—though it did little to make him seem less big and dangerous. Even without the armor, their great height and the broadness of their shoulders left them looming over Tav, Ivox, and the birds. One chirped nervously and hopped behind Ivox.

Tav said the first thing that popped into their head.

“Why are you so tall?”

His mouth fell open. They gaped at her like a fish, then waved at her own body. “Why are you so small?”

Tav looked down at themself, then planted their hands on their hips and glared back up at him. “I didn’t exactly have much of a say in the matter!”

“Well, neither did I. There’s your answer.”

“What kind of an answer is that?!”

“An accurate one.”

Tav opened her mouth to say… well, she wasn’t quite sure what she was going to say, but it was definitely going to put Resh’s smart-aleck self in their place.

Instead, Ivox’s giggles interrupted and made both of them turn to face them.

“I can see why Tav likes you, Resh,” they said, eyes crinkled in mirth.

The two glanced back at each other, only just now noticing how close their faces had gotten, and separated in a rush. Matching pink blushes glowed over their faces.

“Wh… What’s that supposed to mean?!” Tav retorted.

“Oh, they just really seem to spark your passion, that’s all.”

They and the birds now perched upon their shoulders twittered with more laughter. Several more hopped around at Resh’s feet, though they fluttered away when he shifted his stance. Without the pizaine, it was easy to see how tense their shoulders became at this. Coupled with the scowl on his face, and Tav knew he was mere moments from releasing a long-suffering sigh.

-<◇>-

Resh was mere moments from releasing a long-suffering sigh. The butterflies of yesterday were a walk in the palace gardens compared to these birds. At least those light creatures had the decency to approach him right after he removed part of his gear, and not force him to do more.

If birds were this bad, they shuddered to imagine what else lay in store for them.

“Looks like they’re still a little scared of you, huh?” Ivox said, the chirp of their voice cutting through Resh’s train of thought.

“Indeed,” he said with a nod.

Though perhaps “a little” was something of an understatement.

They hummed thoughtfully. "Why not try feeding them? It's lunch time anyways, and if you were to hand out food, I'm sure they'd start to trust you more."

Resh stared at them incredulously.

"Feed... the birds?"

The very suggestion was baffling. And yet… it also seemed familiar. Like a conversation he had once held long ago.

-<◇>-

The Palace garden was considered one of the private sanctuaries of the King, and only the Elders, certain government officials, and a few specially chosen servants were permitted within. Such measures should have ensured that a plate of sandwiches would be safe from any potential thieves.

“Hey! Get away from there!”

Such measures failed to take into account that birds can fly and do not care what star spirits allow.

Resh grumbled under their breath and glared at the rapidly shrinking forms of birds fleeing over the garden walls. Resting on the table before him, a once-pristine sandwich had been picked and pecked at. The damage amounted to little more than crumbs, but from the look on their face, Resh certainly thought otherwise.

"Little thieves. I should have them banished from the palace grounds,” he said, crossing his arms over his chest.

Someone chuckled nearby. Resh looked up to see their sibling, Alef, strolling up with a wry smile. "Come now, Resh. They're only birds, and it's just a sandwich. You don't even need it."

They turned their nose up, still scowling. "It's about the principle of the matter. They’re my sandwiches, and they can't have them."

Alef’s face fell. He looked to the sun above, the glow of his eyes a mere fragment of that great star’s own radiance. Then they looked back at their twin, wringing their hands.

"...What would Mother think if She heard you talk like that?"

Resh scoffed. "Mother isn't here. I don't care what She'd think. And neither should you, Alef. We don't belong in Her shadow, living as Her tools."

"Resh..."

"There you are,” interrupted a kindly voice before the tension could become too much to bear. The pair turned to see a familiar spirit approaching from the palace. “Spare some time for an old star?"

"Daleth!" Alef said, grinning and running towards the Elder of the Isle of Dawn.

Resh, meanwhile, followed behind more sedately, their shoulders pushed back and hands clasped before them. For all that he had been scowling earlier, the smile he gave the Elder was genuine. "Welcome. What brings you to Eden, Daleth?"

"Oh, I just came for a visit. We haven’t seen each other in quite a while, after all. I suppose you’ve been busy since you've taken the throne, what with your kingly duties and all, so I thought I’d come to you," Daleth said, rubbing the back of their neck.

To their credit, Resh looked sheepish as they said, "There's a lot to do. I just haven't had the time to go all the way out to the Isle."

"Of course, of course."

Chirps from above were the only warning they had before a few birds fluttered down to land on Daleth’s shoulders and the tip of their staff. The Elder’s eyes crinkled in a smile. "Ah, hello there, little ones."

"Watch yourself, Daleth. They like to steal sandwiches,” Resh said, their smile fading into a fresh scowl.

"Is that so? Perhaps you could set out some birdseed for them, instead."

"Hey, great idea, Daleth! That way, they won't touch Resh's precious sandwich,” Alef piped up, raising a cheeky eyebrow in his sibling’s direction. Resh stuck their tongue out in reply, but quickly returned to their previous kingly stance when Daleth smiled and crouched down.

"Indeed. Don't tell Lamed I said this, but food is one of the things I enjoy most of residing down here." With a warm, knowing look to the young King and his sibling, they waved a hand at the plate of sandwiches. "Few things bring us together like a meal."

-<◇>-

"Do... light creatures such as these birds need to feed on things other than flame?" Resh said, their voice soft as down.

Tav furrowed her brow and put a hand to her chin. "Well... no. Technically, they can survive perfectly fine on just heat and bits of light from the air. That’s what they  use when they migrate, after all."

"But surviving isn't the same as living,” Ivox continued. “They may not need the birdseed we set out for them, but it does make them happy. And happiness is nourishment for the soul."

“Yeah. What they said.”

Resh pressed a hand to his chest, where he felt the faint pulse of his inner flame. "Nourishment... for the soul..."

They studied the sack in the bird whisperer's hands, then took it and poured it out upon the stone. Resh knelt beside the piles that formed from his unpracticed attempt and evened out the birdseed with large sweeps of his hands. When they stood, a single bird descended to feed. Then another, and another, until chirps filled the air and a tiny sea of white spotted with gold spread out from his feet.

When the feast was over, most of the birds left, either to rejoin their flocks or simply to perch elsewhere. A few, however, lingered behind, and one of them fluttered up to their shoulder. Resh ran a finger over the white diamond on its golden head. He didn’t notice the slight smile on his face.

Nor did they notice that the updraft no longer stung their gray-brown skin.

-<◇>-

Daleth startled awake, having fallen asleep while tending to their birds. One chirped softly from its perch on their shoulder. They glanced around and then got to their feet. Despite their aged state of being—they were the oldest of the stars that fell, after all—they felt as spry as the Valley Elders. They didn't even need their staff to walk about their temple.

The pilgrims within the first chamber were full of the usual awe at the sight of the realm's Elder, and though Daleth greeted them kindly, their mind was elsewhere. This new bout of energy... where had it come from? They hadn't felt like this since... since Resh had taken the throne.

If they had gone outside and looked up, they would have seen that their constellation now shone brighter than before. As it was, however, they had other duties to attend to.

Like feeding their birds, for example.

-<◇>-

Chapters: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12

[parvulous-writings]

Home // Mother!Dimitrescu x Child!F!Reader

Request:  Hi! may i request this scenario: what if lady dimitrescu had a fourth daughter? like child reader stumbles into the castle and lady dimitrescu decides to raise her as her own. thanks love!

Requested by: Anon

Summary: Lady Dimitrescu adopts a new daughter. 

Warnings: mentions of death

Words: 1.7K

Notes:  My requests are currently open! My pinned post (found here) contains both a list of characters I write for, and a masterlist!

Not my gif 

Cold. That was the only thing you could feel. The only thing you had felt for the past several hours, at least. Well, feel in a loose sense of the term. Your limbs were numb, stiff and unable to move. You had been shuffling forward with no real sense of direction for who knows how long now, with no end in sight, no shelter from the elements you were forced to endure.  Your home had been attacked by massive monsters- not quite man, not quite human. You parents had ushered you and your siblings out of your home,  but now you were the last of your family line. One by one, your family had been picked off by your attackers, but each time you had managed to wriggle your way out of the situation. At one point you had even ducked into the woods to escape the beasts, but now that you had returned to the village you didn’t know what landmarks were what; almost everything you could recognise had been destroyed. You did, however, manage to find the Maiden of War, a statue that was in the centre of a roundabout like pathway that tractors and wagons often used. In normal life at least.  Nearby to that, up some stone steps, was a stone door with a carving that frightened most of the children of the village, even with the two reliefs missing. However, this time, the reliefs were there,  and the gateway had opened ever so slightly. Void of hope, and with every other option exhausted, you shuffle towards it, slipping through the crack, and starting up the snow-covered pathway to who knows where. Though, by looking up, you assumed that it lead to the massive castle which loomed over the village and it’s surroundings. 

The trek up there was probably much shorter than it seemed to be. There was a drawbridge that lay over a small, shallow body of water, and your footsteps echo off of it as you cross into a dark and rocky tunnel. It’s very dimly lit- nothing more than wall mounted torches and the fading remaining light to guide your way. You felt your way along to stone wall, the surface cold to the touch, not that you could tell all that much. Eventually, you came to a door. It was tall, much taller than you, although it was only about average height in reality. You pressed all your weight against it, and slowly- oh so slowly- did it creak open. You scurried inside, pushing the door shut once more behind you.  After catching your breath you take a moment to observe your surroundings- you were in a rather lavish room, just large enough to be classed as a hall, with hard, marble floors and a tiny staircase onto a more raised floor. You clamber up them, and notice a rather detailed portrait in front of you, of three beautiful young women, with tied up brown hair, sitting together in what appeared to be a forest or woodland clearing; it was a little bit hard to tell since the women took up most of the picture. You tilted your head slightly as you got lost in the colours and brushstrokes, wondering who these women were and what they did to warrant such a wonderful portrait. Of course, there was a plaque beneath it- most likely holding some of the information you wanted- you couldn’t read it, and it was a little too high for you anyway.

The sound of an opening door somewhere down the hall to your left catches your attention. Without knowing what else to do, you start to walk towards it, staying close to the walls and running your hand slowly along it. You push through a few more doors, before coming to a large hall- occupied with a chair, small table, assorted plants and even a chest of drawers in a corner. Your eyes roam upwards, and this room alone could house the entirety of the village, perhaps two or three times over. You knew the castle was big- it often occupied conversation among the children of the village- but this took your breath away. Not only was it huge, but it was ornate, more ornate than anything you had seen before in your life. One mere trinket from this room alone could have fed your family for at least two months, had they been alive still to see this.  You hear another door close behind you, and you spin round to see if who is there. You can only hope that the residents of this castle take pity on you. But, you see nothing. No one. You’re incredibly confused by this, and you have to glance this way and that to make sure that there’s no one around you. All you can find is a few flies. Wait. There’s more than a few. There’s three whole clouds.  You give a small shriek and duck to the floor, covering your head and face to try and hide away from the bugs, making sure they didn’t get near your face. If they didn’t get near your face, you could pretend they weren’t there at all. 

The only problem was, you could still hear the buzzing of their wings. You felt a few beat against your back, as the sounds began to warp and change. From buzzing and droning to... Laughter? Yes, it was laughter, three different laughs to be exact. Fearfully, you look up from your arms, to see three, rather fearsome looking young women in front of you. In surprise you bury your face into your arms again- if you couldn’t see them, they couldn’t see you, right? The three girls look between one another, slightly confused. Not at your behaviour, but more at how you- a mere child- had managed to get yourself up into the castle. The one standing in the middle,  one with red, oddly shaved hair, crouched down in front of you, tilting her head curiously. She glanced over her shoulder at the other two fly women, who shrugged at her; they didn’t know who you were or how you got into the castle either. “Child?” The one in front of you spoke, her voice like silk to your ears, especially after their piercing laughs and the roars of the Lycans. You shakily lift your head up again, looking up at her with tears of fear starting to prick at the corners of your eyes. She holds her hand out to you, trying to give you a smile of reassurance.  It works to some extent, though you don’t have too much of a choice other than to take the woman’s hand, so you carefully do so. She helps you to your feet, and you see the other two women staring at you. The blonde women looks to the last one, a brunette wearing a yellow variation of the pendant worn by all three. “Go tell mother.” The blonde said to her, to which the brunette burst into a cloud of flies in reply, swooping off down a hall. You give a yelp of surprise, hiding behind the legs of the woman who’s hand you still clutch to. She looks at you, confused for a second. 

She sighs, and starts to tug you along. “Come on.” She urges, rather impatiently, dragging you off down a side hall, where you can hear a couple of voices as you approach another door. The blonde woman pushes the door open, “Mother.” She greets, speaking to someone sitting in a plush, velvety chair. Whoever is sitting down places a crimson glass on a small table in front of her, before getting to her feet. “Well, let’s take a look at the child.” She speaks, and your jaw practically drops at her height. You hardly even reach her knees. You’re not sure whether to remain in awe, or to let the fright and fear set in. She looks down at you, regarding you briefly before starting to smile. “Why... I don’t see why you were so panicked, Cassandra...” She spoke to the brunette stood beside her chair, sent ahead of the other two with you. “Look at her- she poses no threat. It was chance she happened upon us, was it not?” She looked to the woman, who has lowered her head respectfully.  “Yes, mother.” She replied, before moving her gaze over to you again. “What are we to do with her? She is human, what if-” “Ah-ah.” The tall woman interrupts. “No what-ifs.” She says sternly, before turning her attention fully to you. “What happened to your family, little one?” She asks, not bothering to get down on your level. You take a moment to answer, which the Lady of the castle allows, considering you are merely a child, and in a strange new environment. She could understand any fear you may have, she has been there herself in the past.  “The.. The monsters.” You squeak, and the woman hums softly, looking at her three daughters briefly. 

In her mind, you were a child without a family, a child with need of a home and a family. She gave a curt nod to herself, folding her arms over her chest. “Well, then we shall be your new family.” She tells you, and the shock is clear on your face.  “What..?” You whisper, your voice hardly audible to any of the other women in the room.  “We shall be your new family.” She declares proudly again, “These are your new sisters. Bela.” She gestures to the woman still holding loosely onto your hand, with the shaved red hair. “Daniela.” She gestured to the blonde woman on the other side of you, “And Cassandra.” She placed a hand on the shoulder of the girl closest to her. “And you can call me mother.” She smiled brightly at you, stepping forward slightly, and bending down, opening her arms to you. “Come here, child.” She coos to you, as Bela drops your hand. You shuffle towards her, and as soon as you’re close enough, she scoops you up into her arms, resting you against her shoulder, cradling you with a warm smile. “Come now, let us find you a room...” She whispers, and as she starts walking through the seemingly endless maze of hallways you feel yourself drifting off to sleep in the arms of.. Well, your mother. Despite only just meeting her, you feel safe with her and her daughters, your sisters. You knew you’d be happy here, happier than you would be anywhere else, especially in the ruins of the village you once called home. 

------

Part two

[cheri-translates]

[CN] Gavin’s Spreading Wings Date

🍒 Warning: This post contains detailed spoilers for a date, 展翼之约, which has not been released in EN! 🍒

It is very important to read his birthday R&S before this!

[ This was released on 24 July 2021 ]

[ PROLOGUE ]

While heading home after work, I receive a call from Eli.

I’m guessing there’s information regarding the matter I asked of him from before.

MC: Hello? Captain Eli? Since you suddenly called, does this mean there’s a solution to what I asked about the other time?

Eli: That’s right. I personally made a trip to the municipal administration last week and retrieved the item for you. I’ve already asked City Express to send it over to you.

MC: That’s great! Thanks, Captain Eli!

Eli: It’s no problem. Although it took a little effort, it was retrieved eventually.

MC: I really have to thank Captain Eli. This item is pretty important to me, so you’ve helped me out big time.

Eli: Ah, it’s nothing. Oh yes, the STF is leaving tonight. Gavin just left the bureau and should be heading towards your place now. I shan’t disturb the both of you. I’ll hang up now. Watch out for the delivery.

MC: Mm, I’ve got it. I’ve troubled Captain Eli this time. When our TV station has a matchmaking show in the future, I’ll definitely recommend you!

I hang up. Sure enough, I receive a parcel from the STF not long after reaching home.

Tearing open the packaging, I see a dark coloured square box with the municipal administration’s logo engraved on it.

After removing the cover, a badge sits quietly among the flannel.

A cold light glints on the surface of the coiled design. The flag and peace dove clearly declare the rules of justice and protection.

It silently conveys a certain dignity that can make one hold their breath.

During an awards ceremony organised by the municipal government a few months ago, Gavin wasn’t able to attend in person. As a result, they didn’t manage to give him an honorary badge.

Although the municipal administration made several calls, the STF has been busy with missions, and Gavin hasn’t had the time to collect it.

This matter is something which I’ve always kept in my heart.

I feel that this honour, which represents an “acknowledgement”, shouldn’t be treated so flippantly and hastily.

Hence, while preparing for Gavin’s birthday, I asked Eli way in advance to retrieve this from the municipal administration using the name of STF.

This is an “acknowledgement” which belongs to him, and I wish to hand it to him personally.

All of a sudden, there are knocks at the door. Knowing that the person outside is Gavin, I quickly hide the badge and the box into a cupboard before opening the door.

Then, the person outside wraps me in a full embrace. His scent overtakes my senses.

MC: Are you leaving tonight?

Gavin responds with a “mm”. After nuzzling his head gently in the crook of my neck, he releases his hold on me.

In the short span of half a minute, he seems to have already derived all the strength he needs, and the light in his eyes is very bright.

MC: There’s no need to worry about me, but you have to take care of your safety.

Gavin: I’ll do my best to rush back. Don't worry.

The both of us speak at the same time. Gavin can’t help but laugh. Taking my hand, he pulls me outside.

Gavin: Let’s go and have dinner. We’ll eat outside today.

MC: Okay!

-

Walking along the street, I look at Gavin’s calm and resolute figure. Recalling the badge which is sitting quietly at home, I secretly purse my lips into a smile.

This year, my birthday plan is a secret which Gavin doesn’t know about. I’m looking forward to the day the secret is revealed, along with his reactions.

[ DATE ]

The faraway snow-capped mountains are reminiscent of a fog coloured outline. They stand at the end of the horizon, faraway and reticent.

On a road not too far from the border, I disembark from the car, standing underneath a street sign while staring ahead.

Approximately half a month ago, Gavin was sent to this city for a mission. Today is the day he wraps up the mission.

It’s also his birthday.

At this moment, my phone rings. I answer it quickly.

Eli: MC, have you reached the location I gave you?

MC: Mm, I’ve reached. Captain Eli, when will you guys be dismissed?

Eli: We’ve already been dismissed and are heading your way. Just stay where you are, and you’ll definitely cross paths with Gavin. Don’t worry.

MC: That’s great. I’ll thank Captain Eli in advance then~

After hanging up, I tap open my memo and verify its contents once more.

MC: The aviation park, guesthouse, cake, and presents. Mm, no problem at all!

I turn my phone off, thinking about how aside from celebrating Gavin’s birthday, I’m also shouldering a very “heavy responsibility”.

Since Gavin wasn’t personally present for the awards ceremony conducted by the municipal government, there’s a medal which has yet to be given to him.

After learning about this piece of news not too long ago, I’ve remembered it in my heart, and specially asked Eli to retrieve this medal from the municipal government in the name of STF.

With a really huge and hidden personal motive, I wish to personally hand this important honour to Gavin on this most special day.

The sudden chirping of birds pulls my train of thought back to reality.

I look at the time. It’s still very early, and the first glimmer of light has just appeared in the sky.

After waiting for a while longer, I spot a group of uniformed men appearing at the end of the road. My heart, which had been dangling in the air, immediately settles.

The person leading the group is wearing a combat uniform. Strands of brown hair curl up in the breeze, and he currently has his head turned towards a squad mate behind him as he says something.

Although they appear to have experienced a fierce battle, the atmosphere is very light-hearted.

Looks like this mission successfully reached its end.

Likely sensing my gaze, he suddenly turns his head, staring afar off towards my direction.

After he getting a clear view of my figure, those amber eyes suddenly freeze. The strands atop his head curl up in a silly manner, as though he doesn’t know how to react.

The early morning mist has not yet dissipated. The world is enveloped in a tender and pale greenish blue, and the chirping of birds occasionally grows faint and near.

The whirring of a helicopter drifts from overhead as it circles in the sky. It’s the aircraft which is here to send them back.

Seeing that Gavin is slightly at a loss, I can’t help but chuckle, waving at him.

Gavin immediately walks over to me, his pace much faster than before. The squad mates follow behind him in a leisurely manner, not planning to disrupt this early morning meeting.

Gavin stands in front of me. He sweeps a glance over my white denim jacket, his gaze a little astonished.

MC: How is it? Does it look good?

Gavin nods, responding in a straightforward manner.

Gavin: Looks good.

MC: I specially prepared a matching set~

While speaking, I pass him the bag in my hands. Gavin receives it and takes a look. With a chuckle, he puts on the exact same jacket deftly. 

Although it’s just a simple white demin jacket, it makes him look refreshed and cool.

The early morning mist dyes his eyes, giving them a tender coolness. When his eyes meet mine, they instantly melt into a warm gaze.

At this point, Eli and other squad mates walk over as well. A rope ladder descends from the helicopter, and Eli arches a brow at us.

Eli: This rascal was so anxious to see you that he almost flew back to Loveland City directly. This is good. He doesn't have to fly now.

He pats Gavin on the shoulder.

Eli: Captain Gavin, enjoy your birthday vacation. We brothers will head off first.

One by one, they climb up the rope ladder and board the helicopter. Tang Chao whistles, and he’s grabbed through the hatch by Eli.

Gavin doesn’t bother about them. He removes his half finger gloves, revealing his dry yet soft finger pads. He entwines all ten fingers with mine.

He lifts his eyes to look at me, and they are filled with an insuppressible brightness. He asks a question that he clearly knows the answer to.

Gavin: Why did you come here?

The helicopter circles into the distance, accompanied by a deafening roar. I grin while bringing my left hand to my mouth, curving it into the shape of a trumpet.

MC: It’s clearly to... wish you a happy birthday!

-

The public bus brings us to the entrance of a park in the outskirts of the city. I pull Gavin off the bus, and we stand at the entrance of the park together.

Turning my head, I scrape Gavin’s palm.

MC: May I know if Mr Birthday Boy is ready to spend a day of surprises with me?

The hand that’s intertwined with Gavin’s moves forward decisively. The smile in his voice is unambiguously clear.

Gavin: Of course.

When I was planning the birthday route a few days ago, I unintentionally chanced upon information pertaining to this park.

As compared to other parks, there doesn’t seem to be anything special about this aviation park.

It’s just another slow-paced venue to relax in within the city. It has a pond which can’t be considered large, and a few willow trees grow along it.

Magazines are displayed on the counter of a small stall, and a child is standing on his tiptoes, selecting a popsicle from the freezer beside it.

If I had to mention the biggest difference, it would be that this park was transformed from an airbase.

In order to remember that it was once an airbase, there’s a white statute of an aircraft in the middle of the park.

Similarly, in order to be in line with the theme of “aviation”, all the shops in the park display miniature aircraft models.

Akin to colourful birds, they carry a yearning for the unconstrained sky.

Perhaps due to it being the summer vacation, a teacher has brought children to visit this ex-airbase.

The children wear yellow hats while chattering away. They surround the aircraft models, debating on which one looks the best.

Gavin and I walk along the shade of trees unhurriedly. When passing by the aircraft statue, he suddenly asks me a question.

Gavin: Did you bring me here because this used to be an airbase?

His gaze flits past the aircraft statue, then pauses on my face.

I nod in acknowledgement.

MC: I heard that this used to be one of the first airbases. In the past, many aircrafts were studied here. It’s a place with lots of commemorative value, and bears the weight of the years when people headed into the sky. Since I’m celebrating your birthday in this city, I felt that I should pick a location which is slightly more special. Otherwise, it wouldn’t leave much of an impression when we recollect it in the future.

Gavin chuckles, then reaches out to pinch my face.

Gavin: Seeing you appear early in the morning while dismissing the squad was already enough to leave a deep impression on me.

I laugh in embarrassment, then continue the earlier topic.

MC: But the airbase is only half of the reason.

I pause, my sentence ending on an upward lilt.

MC: There’s another half.

Gavin arches his brows, as though wondering what other surprises I could have hidden in this small park.

Tugging on his hand, we turn into a small path on the left, a confident smile on my face.

MC: Come with me.

The small path extends forward, and the sound of our footsteps mingles with the rustling of leaves.

After making a turn, everything becomes clear.

Before us, there’s a spacious and empty patch of land. Green grass grows wildly, covering the runway which was once used for aircrafts.

The wreckage of a plane remains on the ground, the rust on its body akin to a brown coloured decorative pattern.

Everything reveals the creases of time, but certain lingering aspirations can still be felt from it.

Gavin: Is this the other half of the reason?

He looks at me, his brows arched slightly.

MC: This was the original location of the airbase. I heard that this abandoned plane used to have the most excellent workmanship. I felt that if you knew about such a place, you’d want to take a look. Also, this is quite a nice place for a hidden scenery~

Gavin suddenly reaches out to brush dust off the body of the aircraft, revealing a series of numbers.

Gavin: Y2251. This used to be an air freighter.

Gavin pauses for a moment. As though he grasped at a fragment from his memories, his eyelashes stir gently in slight disbelief.

Gavin: A very long time ago, I made an aircraft model. This was the aircraft I referenced and modelled it after.

MC: ?!

I’m stunned for half a second. When I see myself in Gavin’s calm and composed eyes, I can’t help but chuckle.

MC: I suddenly feel as though this world might actually operate in a circle. We might move and turn around, but there will come a day when we become part of the circle.

Gavin responds with a “mm”. He gazes fixedly at the set of numbers, as though patching up fragments of memories bit by bit.

Gavin: I used it to participate in a competition and won a prize. Back then, the officer who gave out the award came from this base.

MC: What kind of a competition was it?

Gavin: An aeromodelling competition. The prize was a small aviator badge.

We walk past the propeller of the aircraft wreckage with very light footsteps.

In my mind, a face even younger than the one right now surfaces before my eyes, along with a pair of clear amber eyes.

MC: Wow, that sounds really incredible!

I suddenly see the introductory plate next to the plane, which has a picture of how it formally looked like.

Smooth contours, blue wings, floating cloud patterns on its tail... just like a beautiful flying bird.

MC: How pretty. When you referenced this plane, did you make an exact replica?

Gavin nods. He looks at the plate, his gaze very serious.

Gavin: It was more or less the same as this.

He hesitates slightly, then adds on.

Gavin: Erm... it didn’t look as good. But it was very practical and could fly.

He gestures with his hands, pointing towards a faraway ginkgo tree.

Gavin: Around here to over there - the distance of half a field.

We walk over to that ginkgo tree. Its leaves are luxuriant as it stands next to the side gate of the park.

Since it’s summer, the leaves are lush and green.

A swing is swaying gently and quietly under the tree, and a few ginkgo leaves have fallen onto the wooden seat.

Tugging Gavin over to the swing, we continue our earlier conversation.

MC: We probably walked around 500 metres to get here. An aircraft model which is able to fly 500 metres is so incredible! You must have really liked it in the past in order to do such an amazing job.

Gavin holds the rope of the swing. He nods after hearing this, and his voice is certain.

Gavin: I did like it very much.

Seeing from my expression that I’m about to burst from curiosity, he can’t help but chuckle before going along with me and speaking.

Gavin: Back then, I bought many atlases related to planes. While studying them slowly, I conducted test flights too. I spent almost half of my summer vacation on this. Although the process was very fulfilling, there were times when I faced setbacks. Once, I got into a huff and tossed all the spare parts into my drawer and went to bed. 

MC: What happened next?

A nostalgic smile flashes in Gavin’s eyes.

Gavin: I couldn’t fall asleep, so I got up and took all of them out of the drawer. I fumbled around and managed to construct the extending and retracting mechanism of the wings. The next day, I slept till late in the afternoon... My mom didn’t wake me up.

MC: Pfft.

I can almost envision a youth who is sound asleep under the covers, a prototype plane laying quietly on the table.

A breeze enters through the curtains. It’s tender and light-hearted.

MC: Looks like it really isn’t easy to construct an aircraft model successfully.

I’m a little awed.

MC: I remember when we were doing handicrafts in school, the teacher would always say that the final step is to engrave our names as a marker. If I were you, I’d definitely paint my own name at the most conspicuous spot, and tell everyone how incredible I am.

Gavin gives this some thought before he shakes his head.

Gavin: I didn’t engrave my name back then. It was on the small aviator badge, but it got lost after I sent it to my father’s squad.

The way he says this so naturally causes my slightly flinched expression to reveal complicated emotions.

Gavin: Now that I think about it, it wasn’t anything special.

He chuckles, his tone as light as a breeze.

Gavin: They’re all in the past.

He narrates this calmly, as though these memories have long since been shut behind a dusty door.

I think of a 14 year old Gavin. I think of that aircraft model he made personally. I think of the past he had to experience...

A sense of discontent rises from my heart, and I wish to smoothen these regrets.

I stand up, and Gavin lifts his head towards me in slight puzzlement.

Gavin: What’s wrong?

MC: How could we not eat popsicles in a park during summer? I saw a stall selling popsicles earlier. I’ll buy two sticks.

Gavin nods. Just as he’s about to stand up and follow me, I press him back onto the swing.

MC: I’ll buy it. You can just wait for me here.

Gavin arches his brows slightly as he looks at me. As though seeing through my thoughts, he nods.

MC: What flavour do you want?

Gavin: I’ll go with whatever you like.

I nod. Just as I prepare to leave, someone grips my fingers.

I turn around to see that Gavin is looking at me.

Gavin: Be safe.

After a pause, he continues.

Gavin: I’ll be waiting for you here.

MC: Mm, I’ve got it.

I nod, giving him a smile.

-

I’m standing at a shop near the entrance of the park. Numerous aircraft models of various styles are displayed on the counter.

However, I instantly spot one particular style exhibited in the middle. With its white body and blue wings, it looks exactly like the plane in the original picture from earlier.

When the boss sees me staring at it, he enthusiastically introduces it to me from the side.

Boss: This is a bestseller from our shop. It’s a replica of the plane in the park, built in a 1:400 ratio. This is the only piece left today.

Without hesitation, I purchase it.

Even before waiting for the boss to package it in a box, I pick up the miniature plane and store it into my bag. Then, I quickly jog into the park.

When I hurriedly weave through the crowd and make a turn at the small path, I suddenly halt in my footsteps when I spot Gavin.

He’s sitting on the swing in the park, sunlight from the summer afternoon filtering through the crevices of leaves and descending on him in specks.

A few ginkgo leaves have fallen, scattering at his feet. A few bellflowers are suddenly blown by the wind, releasing a clear and rippling sound.

Gavin watches the bellflowers quietly, and all his sharpness has been retracted.

In an instant, along with the descending ginkgo leaves, I think I see the youth who is encased and hidden by layers of solid armour.

It’s as though he has found a wound which has yet to heal completely but was forgotten with time. When he faces that scar, he waits in quiet solitude.

Akin to an instinctive reaction, I sprint towards him and take his hand.

The moment Gavin lifts his head and looks at me, I see brilliant rays lighting up his eyes.

It seems that he has grown accustomed to waiting. But this time, the person he’s waiting for has arrived as planned.

MC: Sorry, I had to queue for a long time to get the popsicles.

Gavin shakes his head, his brows arched into a smile.

Gavin: It wasn’t very long.

I stretch out my hand, waving the two popsicle sticks in my hand.

MC: Here. The other flavours were sold out, so there’s only lychee left. Give it a try.

Gavin takes one stick. I sit beside him and take a bite of the popsicle, the clear and sweet taste spreading from the tip of my tongue.

I turn my head and ask Gavin a question.

MC: Why aren’t you asking me about what gifts I prepared for you this year?

Gavin: If I said that your appearance here is already the best gift, you definitely wouldn’t be satisfied with this response.

He pauses, his tone bringing with it an unhurried upward lilt.

Gavin: So... what did you prepare for me this year?

Heading out of the park via the side gate, we make a turn at a sloping path. In front, there’s a pretty large lake.

The source of water from this lake comes from the faraway snow-capped mountains. Since there aren’t many tourists, the water in the lake is clean and pure blue.

This patch of blue is reminiscent of a gigantic jewel. It’s deep and tender, adding radiance and beauty to the snow-capped mountain, as though extending to the horizon.

There’s a tranquil guesthouse next to the lake. Gavin and I push open the gate of the courtyard together.

There’s a gigantic tree in the courtyard. July happens to be its flowering season, and the tree is layered with cloud-like petals.

I guide Gavin to the second storey. After lifting the portiere made of colourful cloth, a meticulously decorated room appears before our eyes.

Sprigs of a blossoming plant have been inserted into a vase, and a simple and unsophisticated wind chime hangs by the window.

A birthday cake stored in a transparent box is displayed on the table, and there’s a blue ribbon on it which has been tied into a bow.

Ever since we entered, I've been secretly observing Gavin’s reaction, wanting to know if he fancies such a surprise.

He doesn’t say anything. He simply looks at everything quietly, as though he doesn’t want to miss out on anything.

Then, he walks over to the window, fiddling with the wind chime gently. He sits at the edge of the window casually, and stretches out his hand towards me.

Understanding this immediately, I walk over, placing my hand in his unfurled palm. Sunlight from outside the window envelops this square inch world, and it is tender and tranquil.

Gavin: A very long time ago, somebody told me that I can’t be unhappy on my birthday. 

Gavin: Because this day doesn’t just belong to me. It also belongs to everyone who loves me, and the people who have prepared and looked forward to this day for a very long time. 

Gavin: Celebrating my birthday with you for the fourth time, I think I truly understand the meaning in those words.

He lifts his eyes, looking at me quietly.

Gavin: I’m very happy. Not because it’s my birthday, but because there’s someone who wishes for me to be happy.

The wind chime that I hung up at the window jingles, akin to a song with an unknown melody.

I had prepared many, many things that I wanted to tell him at this moment. But right now, I swallow these words back.

MC: The person who told you that must have been looking forward to this day very much, just like me. Looking forward to giving you well wishes, and looking forward to you being happy because of the surprises I prepared.

I wink.

MC: Since the atmosphere is just right, it’s time to unwrap your gift.

Very carefully, I retrieve the miniature plane that I purchased earlier from my bag, handing it to Gavin under his watchful gaze.

MC: This aircraft model is a belated gift from MC to 14 year old Gavin. I hope he remembers to engrave his name on it when he receives the gift.

Gavin brushes the body of the plane with a finger pad. He suddenly releases a muffled chuckle, then reaches out to draw me into his arms.

His voice enters my ear, mingling with the rustling of leaves outside the window. It’s very soft, and very close by.

Gavin: If 14 year old Gavin received this gift, he’d have definitely remembered to say thank you on that day.

I wrap my arms around his waist, feeling our overlapping breaths in this moment. After a long time passes, I speak up.

MC: Each time I celebrated my birthday when I was small, I always loved to make many wishes. 

MC: Thinking back, many of those wishes were really childish and even greedy. 

MC: After growing up, I experienced many regrets, and faced many situations where I had to compromise and give up. 

MC: Gradually, my birthday wishes became smaller and simpler. It’s as if I no longer had the same courage as before. 

MC: But you’re different. No matter what I want, you’ve always been willing to fulfil them all. 

MC: You made me realise that if I’m properly loved by someone, my wishes can be fulfilled no matter how childish they are.

MC: So no matter what Little Gav’s wishes are, I want to fulfil them for him.

Gavin embraces me, and he doesn’t say anything for a long time.

I pat him on the back gently, chuckling as I continue speaking.

MC: Okay, since Little Gav’s present has already been received, it’s time for yours.

I leave from Gavin’s arms, reaching out to cover his eyes. His eyelashes flutter in my palm, and it’s ticklish.

MC: You’re not allowed to open your eyes in secret.

With the greatest of care, I retrieve the honorary badge belonging to the Commander of STF from my breast pocket, putting it in front of his chest personally.

Gavin doesn’t open his eyes. Rays of sunlight outline his face and figure, immersing his entire self in brightness.

Sunlight lands on the badge, and the golden rays reflected off it give a brief summary of the storms and severe winters in this person’s past.

MC: You didn’t participate in the awards ceremony the previous time, so this medal couldn’t be passed to you. Now, I can finally hand it to its owner.

I observe how it looks on Gavin’s chest, and my voice is very soft.

MC: This is also the most important gift of today.

Gavin: The most important gift?

The entire room is filled with a tender glow. Lifting my head, I meet Gavin’s quiet gaze as he stares at me.

MC: Because I’m a witness to every single reason that resulted in you obtaining it.

I’ve personally witnessed how he has used his own body to block off all sorts of dangers, and can clearly remember how many injuries he has sustained.

But he also experiences pain. When he doesn’t sleep for several days and nights, he also gets fatigued.

It’s only today that I vaguely surmise that the reason why he never mentions anything is because since a very long time ago, he learnt that he shouldn’t anticipate any reciprocation from others.

That aviation badge which was forgotten in a corner had once sustained the weight of a youth’s pure gaze.

Afterwards, it was covered by a thick layer of dust. Nobody held it with a heart filled with anticipation ever again. Just like that, it vanished into the depths of time.

Later on, the youth grew up and decided on a correct flight path. He stepped on dark shadows, walking on the path of justice.

He saved so many people, but the only thing he didn’t know how to do was to allow himself to receive a little reciprocation.

Fortunately, I can now stand before him and take his hand. I can tell him that he has done very well, and that he’s the Gavin I like the most.

I wish to give him the most resolute response.

MC: Gavin, you’re worthy of all the honour. You’re worthy of all the recognition. I... am extremely convinced about this.

After hearing this, Gavin blinks slowly. He lifts his hand and touches the badge on his chest.

I lean forward slightly to take his hand. Looking directly into his eyes, I recite the words that I’ve drafted multiple times in my mind.

MC: There’s someone I’ve known for a really long time.

MC: I’ve seen his valiant and heroic side, and have also seen his fierce and decisive side.

MC: He always doesn’t care about how many injuries he sustains, but gets anxious and blames himself whenever I get hurt.

MC: He has brought me to see many magnificent sights, and enabled me to appreciate many stories that I wouldn’t have been able to experience on my own.

MC: He has handed his gentlest side to me without holding anything back. But he doesn’t ask for me to reciprocate in any way.

MC: I wish to keep looking at him like this.

And I also wish to... have him forever and ever.

A breeze from outside the window brings with it a floral fragrance. I watch as Gavin stares at me without blinking, his gaze blooming with tenderness.

Gavin: MC, I remember everything that we’ve experienced together. These experiences are so wonderful, and they’ve filled this space.

He points at his heart.

Gavin: Because this space is full, I can continue to walk on the path that I want to with resoluteness, and do the things that I want.

He pauses, his tone wilful.

Gavin: I’ve decided on today’s wish.

He draws closer to me, and I'm able to catch a whiff of his breath.

Gavin: MC, you are the one who gave 14 year old me a gift. You are also the one who grabbed the hands of both Gavin from the past and the Gavin of right now.

Gavin: You’re the person I was waiting for.

Gavin: So your wishes are also my wishes.

Gavin: From now onwards, keep looking at me. 

A floral fragrance fills the room. I stare into his bright eyes, as feel as though I’m embracing the warmth of an entire midsummer.

✈️ Epilogue: here

✈️ Video call: here

✈️ Phone call: here

✈️ Moments and Text: here

✈️ Support the cafe by dropping by the tip jar!

[nejibaby]

Afterglow

Pairing: Portgas D. Ace x Y/N

Summary: Without Ace, your nights are back to being long, dark, and empty. But when you finally reunite, Ace refuses to just be your Daylight.

Daylight - Part 1 | Afterglow - Part 2

Word Count: 4.3k (my hands slipped, I’m so sorry)

Loosely based on: Taylor Swift’s Lover album (but mostly about the songs Daylight and Afterglow)

A/N: I really think Whitebeard is a great father, yk? So I see him as someone who you can always seek and rely on. He looks tough (and he’s actually tough), but he’s soft too! And Ace too, in that respect is similar to WB. I really believe he’ll be such a good boyfriend 🥺 Anyway, I really enjoyed writing this so much! Thank you to everyone who read this, I love yall 🥰

<Teach doesn’t exist to me, I hate him, so I guess this is noncanon? Also, there’s this tiny spoiler, just a warning.>

Sailing by yourself in a boat for one reminds you how vast the sea actually is. With the rowdy Whitebeard pirates, sometimes the sea, no, the world, seems a lot smaller, a lot more manageable, but alone, it feels so massive it’s almost frightening.

It’s easy to get lost, except there’s no such concept like that for someone like you who doesn’t have a destination to go to in mind. Quite simply, you’re wandering, but not lost.

You drift from one island to another. Your initial intention is to get as far away as possible from the crew. Now that that’s achieved, you’re unsure of what to do next.

You allow yourself to observe and to experience some sort of normalcy at the islands you dock at. It’s a good thing that you don’t really stand out so no one suspects you’re a wanted pirate.

Walking down the streets of random towns, you’re reminded of how lonely being a Celestial Dragon was. No one wants to interact with a World Noble, afraid of the consequences if they’re angered. Things changed drastically when you became a pirate though. People don’t shy away that much with pirates in certain places. They interact with you, albeit hesitantly sometimes. Nevertheless, you felt so free and happy.

Now, you’re still a pirate, as marked by Whitebeard’s infamous tattoo. But with the unsuspecting townspeople and the lack of the presence of a crew, you don’t feel like one. Somehow it makes you feel empty.

The void is immeasurable. Despite it being unbounded, you’re sure that a single person can fill that emptiness: Portgas D. Ace.

But there are oceans separating you from Ace— a distance that you put. With the space between you, there’s silence in your voyage, however, it’s quite mystifying how every island you reach seems to scream his name.

There’s an island where you’ve docked at that’s snowing all year long. It brought back memories of when you were fairly new to the Whitebeard Pirates and had landed on a similar island. Back then you’ve worn a coat as you disembarked Moby Dick, however, the cold continued to seep through your layers of clothing. You couldn’t handle extreme temperatures that well but you didn’t want to make a big deal out of it so you continued to walk alongside the crew to scout the area. The thing was you may have been terrible at hiding it because Ace noticed the way your body was shivering and your teeth chattering. You were only acquaintances back then but he went to your side and striked a conversation with you. You didn’t understand why you became comfortable when he approached you all of a sudden, but then later that night you realized that he used his devil fruit abilities to warm you up.

At one island with a bustling town, there’s this restaurant that serves a variety of meat. You’re reminded of Ace and his bottomless pit of a stomach, and of his narcoleptic episodes while eating. He has a tendency of eating and then running, and the first few times he did it with you had you reeling. When you’ve finally realized that he’s never going to change, you start to keep a pouch of gold coins with you, reserved for paying for the food he eats. You leave it on the table just as Ace pulls you to run, and he has no idea about it. Owners or servers at the restaurants would still follow you out, but not to berate the both of you for not paying but to return the extra gold coins because you pay too much. Like usual though, Ace pretends not to hear them and they never got to catch up with you and Ace.

On another island, there’s a huge wild boar thrice the size of a human. It reminded you of the time you got so excited to explore an island that you speedily ran towards the forest alone, only to be met by a wild boar. The size of the boar stunned you and its glare kept you frozen in fear. A loud scream escaped your lips when it lunged at you, except the impact never came. When you’ve gathered your bearings, the wild boar was dead and… cooked, courtesy of Ace’s devil fruit abilities. He saved you, but he played it off as if he had his eyes on the wild boar since the beginning “to hunt it down.”

The current island you’re at is in famine. As soon as you docked at their port, a group of men has drawn their swords at you. For a moment, you thought they were bounty hunters so you grabbed your daggers and took a defensive stance. However, from the way they keep looking back and forth to you and your boat, and from hearing the faint sound of their stomach grumbling, you can tell they aren’t. Behind some trees, you can see the heads of some children peeking with worried yet hopeful looks on their faces.

Slowly, you raise your hands up in surrender, dropping your daggers in the process. You can’t turn your back on them — figuratively and literally — so you walk backwards towards your boat. The men look at you curiously but they don’t ever lower their swords.

In a quick motion, you grab a bag containing all of your food supply and throw it at them. One of the men catches it. “You can have them. It isn’t much, but that’s all I have.”

The man who was able to catch the bag carefully opens it and sees food. He almost cries at the sight of it. The rest of the men lowers the sword after you offer no sign of aggression. They start calling the other citizens of the area afterwards.

The children are the first to come running towards the men — all of them conveying excitement. You couldn’t tell how long they haven’t eaten but judging from how thin they are, it has got to be quite some time.

A small girl stumbles and falls near you and you quickly come to her aid. There isn’t much damage, just a scraped knee so you carefully patched her up.

“Thank you,” she gives you a toothy smile and then starts heading to the men who are distributing the food.

She comes back a moment later, arms outstretched to hand an apple to you. “For you,” she says.

Something blossoms in your heart because of her sweetness. “Thank you, but it’s fine, you can have it,”

She doesn’t object but then she hugs you tightly. “Thank you so much.”

Surprisingly, even on an island like this, you’re reminded of Ace. You remember his story about coming to Wano and meeting a child named “Tama” who seemed to be as charming as the child you helped and is under the same fortune.

Now that your mind has drifted to thoughts of Ace, you didn’t want to think of anything else. Even as the people gather around you to offer their thanks, and even as they usher you to a bonfire to celebrate for the food to eat, the thoughts of him linger in your head.

And just like in all the previous islands you came to, you wish he’s here with you too.

There’s longing in your heart, but there’s also something else— something pleasant that you can’t quite describe— and you attribute it to the gratitude of the people.

The mother of the child you helped, Sito, offers their spare room for you to take and you graciously accept. Soft snores almost immediately fill your ears after a few minutes of them bidding you good night.

The longer you stay awake, however, the pleasant feeling you felt a while ago starts to leave a bitter taste in your mouth.

You’ve always criticized yourself for not being able to do more when you were still a Celestial Dragon but now that you did something good, you start to feel selfish for doing it because it makes you feel better about yourself.

It’s at times like this that you seek Pops. There’s a sudden urge to hear his voice and his thoughts. So you grab your Den Den Mushi, but you hesitate.

You’ve lost track of the days since you left Moby Dick. And in that time frame, you never once called Pops. Although you didn’t really promise to call, maybe he was expecting you to, especially since you know he wouldn’t do it first.

You sigh. Maybe this call is long overdue after all.

You step outside the house and start to contact Pops using the Den Den Mushi. It only rings once and then it’s answered, almost as if Pops was waiting by the Den Den Mushi. The thought brings a smile to your face. “Pops—”

“Why on earth are you only calling now?!” His angry tone welcomes you.

“I’m so—”

“Is that Y/N?!” Marco interrupts. Ah, how could you have forgotten? It’s at this time that Marco reports to Pops. “We’re so worried about you -yoi!”

You can hear sounds of struggling on the line and then there’s a loud smack followed by an even louder crash. There’s a moment of silence which makes you wonder what’s going on in the ship.

“Why didn’t you call earlier?!” Pops’ voice booms. “If you’re going to leave a Den Den Mushi, I’m going to expect your reports but I received none of that.”

“I’m sorry Pops. I have no excuse,” you sheepishly say.

“Everyone’s worried about you,” he pauses but then his voice rings louder once again, “Some are even outside my room trying to listen in on our conversation. But if they know better, they should leave us alone.” The sound of rushing footsteps could be heard in the background as Pops finishes his sentence.

You chuckle, imagining the crew eavesdropping. “How are you Pops?”

“I’m doing fine.”

“How’s everyone? How’s… uhm… Ace?”

“Everyone’s just missing you. You didn’t say goodbye after all,” he says. “I put Ace on a mission because he won’t stop pestering me about you. He won’t come back in a couple of days.”

“Oh.”

“He misses you a lot,” he sighs. “He strides to me everyday to demand your whereabouts. Each time I wouldn’t tell him but he never learns. Vista says he’s on his 56th attempt the other day.”

The brief image of Ace that your mind comes up with brings a small smile to your face.

“When are you coming back?” Whitebeard breaks your reverie.

“Ah, I’m not sure yet… It might take a while.”

He hums. “So how are you? Have you been eating well?”

“I’m doing fine, Pops. No one’s been coming after me yet so everything’s going well,” you respond. “But… Can I ask you something?”

“Of course.”

“There’s this island with people who haven’t eaten in so long so I gave them everything I have.” There’s a loud growl coming from Pops so you immediately continue your speech before he could scold you for doing such a thing. “I feel really good about what I did as they thanked me. But then the longer I thought about it, I started feeling ashamed because... wasn’t it selfish since I did it to make me feel better about myself? Then I started to wonder if it was wrong to do good things just because I wanted to be absolved of my parents’ sins. Was I wrong in doing this, Pops?”

“No, you did the right thing.”

“Really?”

“Yes, you’re not an inherently bad person for getting paid in gratitude.”

“But…”

“Making yourself happy by making other people happy is how it’s meant to work. If one of your key motives to doing good things is to feel good, then you’re still doing something good and there’s nothing shameful about that.”

Hearing his words puts you at ease. You’re glad you called him. “Thank you, Pops. I’m sorry for worrying everyone there and for disrupting Marco’s report. I promise I’ll call more often from now on.”

“It’s fine. Just don’t forget to take care of yourself too. Where will you be headed next?”

“I’m not sure. I’m just going where the sea leads me.”

“Be careful.”

“You too, Pops,” and with that, you bid your goodbye and hang up.

By morning, you start preparing your things to leave. You didn’t want to stay for too long because you didn’t want to consume even a portion of the small amount of food they have.

Sito offers you to stay another night, worried that it would be uncomfortable to sleep on a boat. “You can stay one more day. There’s still enough food for us to share.”

“Oh no, I don’t want to impose,” you decline. “But do you mind if I ask what happened here?”

There’s sadness in her eyes, it was easy to tell the memory pained her, but she tells you everything anyway. “This island is one of the few lawless areas in the world, hence, it’s a place where pirates would dock at. A group of men once docked here and kidnapped the leaders of our town. They were sold off to be slaves, because apparently the Nobles like to enslave people of power…” Her words start to fade on you upon the mention of the World Nobles.

Anger flares up in your system immediately. How low can the Celestial Dragons go? It’s sickening to think that you share the same blood as them. It’s because of this revelation that something becomes clear in your mind.

Ever since leaving Moby Dick, you’re just wandering aimlessly. But after hearing Sito talk about this island, you’re finally sure of what your destination should be.

Sabaody Archipelago.

Specifically, the Human Auctioning House.

From the sudden fury that overwhelms you, not even the fear of being within arm’s reach of the Marines, and possibly dying, could stop you from going there.

It’s reckless and foolish, but isn’t this the reason you left Moby Dick that night— to face your nightmares instead of running away from them?

You listen politely as Sito explains everything else but her words enter and leave your ears without you having to comprehend them. Fortunately, she doesn’t notice your inattentiveness, probably because she wants to pour her frustrations out to a stranger.

You offer your sympathies to her and promise her you’d come back with your crew and help them some more. It’s a simple promise yet for someone who hasn’t been offered help for so long, it means a lot, enough to even bring tears to her eyes. And just like that, you leave.

There are two more islands to stop at before you reach Sabaody Archipelago. You gather provisions on one island and buy explosives on the other.

The only thing you’re sure you can actually do alone is to blow up the Human Auctioning House. Facing the World Nobles is for another time, unfortunately. As for the Marines, well… You’d worry about that if they indeed come. You know you’d be able to handle them as long as they don’t send an Admiral after you.

The thing that worries you the most, however, is Pops’ reaction once you let him know of your plan. While you can always just not tell him, it feels wrong, and you promised you’d report to him, after all. And it’s hard for you to admit, but you secretly want to be saved in case your plan goes askew. That, and well, you still want to make up with Ace, may it be just strictly as friends, but preferably as lovers.

You decide to call once you’re about to set sail towards Sabaody Archipelago. You’re sitting in the middle of your boat, still anchored at the port when you told Pops your plan. And as expected, he’s mad.

He demands you to go back to the crew immediately. “Captain’s orders,” he says. But after a few moments, he retracts his words and says, “Your father’s orders.” You feel the weight of his words when he said that and you almost concede. But the faces of the slaves your family had flashes into your mind and it solidifies your decision.

Interestingly, despite the weeks you have spent away from the crew, their ship is nearer to you than anticipated. As confirmed by Pops himself when he angrily said, “Enough! I’m sending Ace to get you! Two or three days is enough for him to catch up with you.”

But quite frankly, that’s also enough time to execute your plan. And if the odds are in your favor, then Ace might just come in time for your escape.

Arriving at Sabaody Archipelago, you keep your face hidden underneath the hood of your cloak. It’s normal for pirates to walk around the place without having to hide their identities, but it’s a luxury you can’t afford. If someone catches wind that you’re here and reports it, the Cipher Pol just might come and capture you before you can even execute your plan. That just won’t do. So on the first day of your arrival, you only scout the area of the Human Auctioning House and retreat back to the inn you stay at.

You carry out your plan on the next day. You place a bomb where the side of the stage is supposed to be. It’s a distraction so people inside would leave the premises. The plan is to find the keys and free the slaves while the people are panicking from the explosion. Then eliminate the head of the place, Mr. Disco, and finally blow the place apart. It sounds simple but with you having to do all the work, you know it isn’t.

Now that you’re here, your nerves are spiking up. Arriving at the entrance of the building, you take a deep breath, your hand automatically reaching for the bracelet that Ace made you. It instantly calms you down.

It baffles you how fate works because on the very day you decide to free the slaves that are being sold off at the Human Auctioning House, Ace’s brother, Luffy — along with his crew — is at the same place to rescue their friend who was kidnapped.

Somehow even on a dangerous mission like this, there’s still something or someone who’d remind you of Ace. It makes you wonder: has he really embedded himself too deep into your life that there’s no escaping the thoughts of him? Not that you mind; the thoughts of him bring you peace, after all. But still, it’s fascinating that even in both mundane and dangerous settings, he makes himself known to you.

Upon entering the Human Auctioning House, everything happens so fast and unexpected. And quite frankly, a lot happened that wasn’t part of the plan.

Aside from finding the Straw Hat Pirates, you got yourself injured when you used your body to shield their fish man friend, Hatchi, from Saint Charlos’ gunshot. Then you confronted Saint Shalria personally despite you not planning to get involved with the Celestial Dragons. As for the slaves, it was the Dark King, Silvers Rayleigh, who actually freed them. The only things that you personally executed from your plan were Mr. Disco’s elimination and the bombing of the Human Auctioning House.

Escape is easy once the building starts to explode because the Marines would have to lessen the forces who're chasing after the pirates in order for them to successfully put out the fire. Without any Admiral on the scene yet, it’s not hard to slip away from them and/or fight them.

Even with the gunshot wound on your arm, you’re able to take down each and every one of the Marines who are chasing you. But halfway through your journey back to the grove where you left your boat at, you lose your adrenaline.

You start to feel the sharp and stinging sensation on your arm once again, yet, you couldn’t help but smile. You have gotten out alive. The slaves have been freed. With both Mr. Disco and the building gone, the Human Auctioning House will no longer be operational, or at least not yet until someone steps up. But that won’t be after a long time.

It’s a wonderful day.

You look up at the afterglow of the sunset with a serene smile. You have a feeling your nights are going to feel shorter now and less frightening than they were before.

Your peaceful moment is cut off by someone rather abruptly. You jump in surprise as someone wraps their arms around you from behind all of a sudden. “I finally caught up with you.”

Your breath hitches at the sound of the voice. “Ace? What are you doing here?”

He doesn’t answer your question, but he mumbles, “I’m sorry if I only came now. Pops wouldn’t tell me where you were, but I came as soon as I could.” Then he tightens his hug. “I was so scared, I thought I’d lose you…”

“Ace, I’m sorry about—”

“Hey, it’s on me, okay?” He interrupts. “I blew things out of proportion, and now you’re blue.”

You pull away from his hug to face him.

“Y-your arm! You’re bl-bleeding,” he stutters after seeing your injury.

But you pay no mind to that. “Ace… I’m really sorry about us—”

“Ssshhh, baby…” he rubs his hand on your back.

He looks at your figure carefully, focused on looking for any more bruises or wounds. When he doesn’t find anything more, he gently holds you by your waist. “Don’t blame yourself, I’m the one who burned us down, but… it’s not what I meant.

“It was all in my head, okay? It’s just that the Celestial Dragons are all grouped in my head as scums and that they’re inexcusable because… my brother was killed by a Celestial Dragon.”

A wave of guilt flows through your body, enough to weaken your knees. Before you could fall, however, Ace catches you and brings you to his chest. But this doesn’t stop you from sobbing on his chest. “I didn’t know, Ace. I’m so sorry.”

“No, that’s the thing, baby. It isn’t your fault. It wasn’t you who pulled the trigger. And… I have to admit I failed to see that at first,” he says as he hugs you tighter. “I shouldn’t have stood there frozen after you told me your story. I’m supposed to be the one who understands you...

“I’m not trying to make excuses and I’m not trying to make this about me but it’s just that… for so long I thought that I inherited the bad blood of my father, and I spent my lifetime failing to see that his sins aren’t my sins,” his voice cracks as he cries. “So when I found out about you… My mind automatically held you liable for the sins of the Nobles…

“But I talked to Pops and he straightened me up. I understand now. Our parents’ sins aren’t ours. It never was ours to begin with. So I’m sorry for blaming you for something you didn’t do…”

Ace stares at your crying form. He cups your face and sincerely says, “It’s so excruciating to see you low,” as he wipes the tears on your eyes. “I’m sorry if I hurt you…”

“It’s fine Ace, I forgive you. But…” You look directly into his eyes. “I’m at fault too,” you confess. “I was the one who left... I was so used to living like an island and isolating myself that it didn’t occur to me that I was punishing you with silence… I should’ve waited patiently for you but I ran away…”

Ace rubs your back gently and presses his forehead against yours, “I forgive you too.”

You smile in relief.

After a couple of minutes in silence, Ace tilts his head. “Y/N?”

“Hm?”

“Remember when you said that you saw daylight after sleeping in a long, dark night?”

You give him a curious look but nodded anyway.

“Beside wishing that I was there for you sooner, it had me thinking...”

“What?”

“Uhm… The world is terrible and cruel, and no one can ever really stop the dark nights from coming.”

You frown. You don’t really understand what Ace is trying to say.

“I guess what I’m trying to say is,” he rubs his neck while his cheeks starts to blush, “if you ever have to go through those dark nights, I wouldn’t want you to wait for daylight.

“I want to be there with you on those nights until they’re over. I don’t want to leave you when things get rough and only show up when you’re better. I know you see me as your daylight but I don’t want to be just that.”

His words warm your heart, and makes it skip a beat. “You know, Ace, there are remnants of light that linger in the sky even when the sun has long gone down and the night starts. It’s the afterglow,” you mumble.

“Yeah, but that goes away too after a while,” he frowns.

“Well, lucky for you the moon reflects the sun’s light during the night, huh?”

He grins. “Yeah, yeah. I like that. I want to be your source of light, may it be the daylight, moonlight, or the afterglow.”

A moment of silence engulfs the both of you. Under the soft afterglow of the sunset with your arms wrapped around each other, you feel at peace.

Once upon a time, you used to believe love is black and white— that it’s straightforward. It was either you love Ace or you don’t, there were no gray areas. No matter what he feels, says, or does, your love for him never ceases.

But then some other days you believed that love is burning red— that it’s full of passion, lust, and romance, much like the nights you spent entangled in the sheets with Ace.

However, right now in Ace’s arms, all you could ever think about is that love is golden. It was warmth and comfort, like what daylight brings. It was contentment and serenity too, much like the feeling of lightness one gets when seeing the afterglow of the sunset. Either way, it’s Ace who makes you feel those.

No matter what color love actually is though, for you it’s always embodied by Ace.

[sunflowergirl522]

Phobia

Pairing: Din Djarin x Reader

Summary: You get stuck on an ice planet with the worst thing ever. 

Warnings: Spoilers for season two of the Mandalorian. (If there’s anything else let me know)

Word Count: 3,377

A/N: This was inspired because of my poor arachnophobia while watching the new episode. Also I started planning and writing this thinking it was really good but now I’m doubting it so I’m really sorry if it’s just shit.

Also for those who don’t know: Bare = dear, Cyar’ika = darling/sweetheart, darasuum = eternally, Ni kar’taylir darasuum gar = I love you

Masterlist

You’ve been tense ever since you got back. Not only had Din sent you back before fighting the Krayt Dragon, the child had snuck off of the speeder Cobb Vanth had been kind enough to lend you. So now instead of just worrying about if your Mandalorian was coming back safe you have to worry about the little one too. Peli noticed how tense you were when you showed back up to the hangar and instead of asking about it, she tried her hardest to distract you. So here you are sitting in the cantina watching her play with the insect across from you both. The insect had just beaten Peli and they started a new round when Din walks into the cantina. The relief you feel when you see him is visible as you let out a breath of air and your shoulders drop. 

Din makes his way over to the table and you smile up at him as he gives you a small head nod. After he turns his attention to Peli yours transfers over to the little one who coos at you. Mando explains what happened to Peli while you get up and grab the child from the bag on Dins hip. “Come here you little womp rat. You were supposed to come back with me.” 

“That’s a high stakes game.” You tune back into the others as Peli gets Din to cover the insects bet. You turn to look at Din trying to tell if he has any major injuries but there’s none that you can notice at least. “I thought you said he was on a hot streak?” Dins voice causes you to look at Peli who’s collecting the credits from the table. 

“Aw quit your cryin, you’ll rust!” You giggle at the exclamation and Din gives your foot a playful nudge. Peli then translates everything the insect has to say about the contact before starting to talk about the Krayt Dragon meat. 

As you’re following her out of the cantina a thought strikes you and you look up at the Mandalorian next to you. “Did you walk here?” He responds to you with just a nod. “What happened to the speeder?”

“Guild members who were here for the kid made me crash it.” You gasp at his words and immediately start to check the child for any wounds. Once you see that he’s perfectly fine you grab Dins arm to stop him and turn towards him. 

“Are you okay?” You once again look over him to see if you can spot any serious injuries. 

“I’m fine Cyar’ika, don’t worry.” He leans down to touch his forehead to yours. “I took care of them.”

“Good.”

***

You sit with the child in your lap while you both watch the meat cook. Din stands off to the side watching over the two of you and the meat. The silence that exists is comfortable and not unlike many days in the Razor Crest. 

“Hey, don’t overcook it, Treadwell. I like it a little rare! It’s not some Rodian for crying out loud.” Peli breaks the silence as she enters the hanger and walks towards Din. “All right here’s the deal. A Mandalorian covert is in this sector.”

“Are they the ones that left Navarro?”

“Don’t know. All I know is that the contact will lead you to them.”

“How much will it cost me?”

“That’s the great news, it’s free!” 

“What’s the non great news?” There's your Mandalorian always assuming there’s a catch.

“There is none. However there is one small stank in the scud pie.” Normally he’s right. “The contact wants passage to the system. And no hyperdrive.”

You watch them go back and forth until a frog lady catches your attention. She walks in and heads straight for Peli and Din. The child’s attention goes to her as well, more importantly to the eggs on her back. Once you notice him doing this you pick him up to be eye to eye with you. “Don’t you even think about it buster.” He just coos back at you. You can’t help the small smile that graces your face at how cute the little guy is. “Alright little one let’s go start to get the ship ready to go.” You get up with him in your arms and follow the frog lady into the ship where Din joins you shortly after. 

Din explains the importance of staying strapped in while seated after take off and you stop yourself from chuckling at him getting annoyed after not getting a response to speaking Huttese to the lady. “I’m gonna hit the rack. I set the nav for our course. It’s gonna take a while so I recommend you get some rest.” As Din walks out he gives you a head nod motioning to follow him. You smile at the frog lady as you get up and follow him out the doors to the cockpit and down the ladder. Once you get down to the hull he’s turning around to look for the child. “Kid?”

You both look over to see him grabbing an egg from the carrying case. “No, no, no!” You both chant as you rush over to him. Din shuts the container quick and grabs the kid. “That’s not food. Don’t do that again.” The child burps and all Din can do is sigh in exasperation before turning and heading to the bed. You follow behind looking between the eggs and the ladder with a frown. Once Din puts the child in his hammock he crawls in himself and opens his arms as much as he can for you to cuddle up beside him. You tuck the little one in and kiss his forehead before crawling in next to Din and having him wrap his arms around you. 

“Get some sleep my love, you’ve had a long day.” You rest your forehead against his chest plate as you speak. Before you know it you can hear the small snores slipping out from underneath his helmet and you smile before drifting into sleep yourself.

A ringing wakes you both up and Din rushes up to the cockpit leaving you and the child alone. You groan to yourself about being woken up too soon and how your Mandalorian just needs some rest before crawling out yourself. “Behave yourself.” You speak to the cooing child before heading up the ladder and entering the cockpit. You walk into Din speaking to two X Wings and silently sit in the last open seat.

“May the force be with you.”

“And also with you.”

You yawn and stretch as he sends them the ping they had asked for and the frog lady wakes up. Next thing you know the X Wings are opening up and Din is speeding away and you’re thanking the heavens that you had buckled in.

A sigh of relief leaves your mouth as they lose you and the Crest slides to a stop on the ice. Frog lady starts to unbuckle and get up to most likely check on her eggs as Din places the ship completely down just for it to fall through and crash at the bottom. When you open your eyes it’s suddenly so cold in the ship. Frog lady is shivering on the ground and you quickly unbuckle to help her up as Din picks his head up and tries to start the ship. Once she’s up she starts to speak in a worried tone and points to the door. Din states that he’ll find the eggs and walks out of the door as she whimpers to you. “I’ll find some blankets too to keep you warm.” You leave her and get down to the hull just to gasp at the hole in the side of the ship. You then catch up with Din in the wreckage.

“The kid’s gone.”

“Oh no.” You walk towards the hole hoping you won’t see little footprints leading away. Din continues to look in the wreckage as the anxious pit in your stomach grows.

“No! I told you not to do that.” You turn to see Din grabbing the container of her eggs from the kid and rush to grab the one out of his hands before he can eat that one too. Din yells up that he found them as you place the one you took back in the case. “How many did you eat?” The concern in his voice is clear and the only response he gets is a burp from the kid. A gust of wind comes through the hole and you wrap your arms around yourself to help provide a little warmth. 

“Hold these for a minute Y/n, I’m sure I have a coat around here somewhere for you.” Din hands you the container of her eggs that’s giving off a little bit of heat and gets to work searching for something to protect you from the cold. As soon as he finds the coat that’s just a little too big for you he starts to clean up the wreckage and you grab one of the blankets for the frog lady who makes her way down and start working on a lunch tray for the little one and the new passenger. Once Din feels everything is cleaned up enough he explains the situation to the lady and she tries to communicate with him.

“I’m sorry lady, I don’t understand frog. Whatever it is can wait until morning. I recommend you get some sleep.” He then crosses his arms and leans against the wall he’s sitting in front of while you watch the lady take her blanket off and put it over her eggs. After realizing it was to keep her unborn children warm you take off the coat and hand it to her in order to help. Din is quick to wrap an arm around you once you sit next to him and you curl into his side using his cape as a blanket as much as you can. “You're too kind bare.” You smile at the words whispered to you and shrug before dozing off once again.

You’re both startled awake again however when the frog lady accesses the vocabulation on Zero’s head. You can’t stop the smirk that makes it’s way onto your face as she tells Din off for saying that the deal was off. The sigh of defeat he gives before grabbing his tools and heading outside almost makes you giggle but him mumbling about how this wasn’t part of the deal throws you into a fit. Once you’ve calmed down you pick the child up and carry him over to his hammock. “Get some sleep you little womp rat and don’t bother the nice lady too much. I’m gonna go help your papa.” You grab the last blanket and exit through the hole to follow Din.

“You shouldn’t be out here Y/n, it’s too cold.”

“I’ll be fine, I just wanna help.” You wrap the blanket tighter around you and sit in the snow next to him. A bit of time passes by with you handing Din tools he asks for to help him repair the ship. Your hands had gone numb a little while ago and you can’t stop your shivering but you’ve been dealing with it to help your Mandalorian. When handing him a new tool it falls from your shaking hand and Din’s attention is drawn from the wires to you. He notices your blue lips and chattering teeth immediately and sits up straight and putting the tools he had down. 

“Cyar’ika please, go back inside and get some rest.” His voice pleads with you as he grabs your hands in his gloved ones to try to warm them up. The leather is still warm from the heat coming from the broken wires.

“I want to stay out here and help you.” 

“You’ll only get sick if you stay out here much longer. You can come back out after you’ve gotten some rest and warmed up, okay?”

“Okay, fine. But only because you sound so desperate for me to go.” 

“I just want to keep you safe ner kar’taylir darasuum.” He leans his forehead against yours and you stop yourself from flinching from how cold it was.

“I’ll be back in a bit.” You head back inside and pass the frog lady who’s cradling her eggs and the child who’s now sitting on a crate watching the eggs. “C'mon little one, you wanna keep me company?” He follows you to the small makeshift bedroom and you curl up with him at your side. 

***

Waking up from your nap and going into the hull you’re met with silence and you don’t see anyone. You search around the ship just to find noone and you scrunch your face up in confusion wondering where everyone went. You make your way outside and blaster fire breaks you out of your thoughts. You look up to see frog lady and Din carrying both the kid and the eggs running towards you with Din shooting behind him. “Y/n! Go inside! Get to the cockpit!” You’re about to shout back why when you almost freeze in your spot from what’s chasing them. What has to be thousands of Krykna spill out of the caves all around. You let out a shriek and run as fast as you can back into the ship and up the ladder. Once in the cockpit you curl into a ball in a corner breathing fast and panicking.Of anything that had to live on this planet it just had to be kriffing Krykna. You’ve been terrified of them almost your whole life and you’ve only ever heard stories about them. Now that you’re seeing them in person you’ve decided that they’re even more terrifying.

The child is the first one to enter followed closely by the frog lady. She sits in her seat holding her eggs close to her and the little one stands to the side. Din comes in then followed by loads of Krykna that are keeping the door open as he tries to close it. You scream as they begin to crawl and jump into the cockpit. You try to shut your teary eyes and go to a happy place in your head but the child's whines make your eyes snap open. The Krykna are all over the cockpit but your attention is on the one that’s made its way onto the child's head. Something in you snaps as you watch him try to get it off and you dive next to him and knock it off before stomping it. Two more start to crawl up your legs and you snap right back out of it. You kick your legs trying to get them off while crying before two blaster fires kill them. The frog lady has a small blaster in her hands and you smile in thanks at her and bring the child into your arms keeping him close to you. Din uses the flamethrower on his wrist then to get them away from the door and it closes. He pants as he kneels down next to your shaking form.

“Are you okay?” All you can do is nod at him. He helps you up and into a seat as quickly as he can. He buckles you up before sitting himself in the pilots seat. “Strap yourself in. This better work.” Din gets the ship to start up and says something about a bumpy ride but you’re not paying attention to that your eyes are stuck on the Krykna that are climbing over the ship. You start to calm down a little bit once the ship starts to take off just to start panicking again when it crashes back down. Two giant legs pierce through the roof and yet another shriek leaves your mouth. When you see the giant Krykna outside of the ship your mouth opens in a silent scream while tears stream down your face. You sit there paralyzed in fear as it’s mouth lunges at the window. When Din gets up to go see who shot it down he hands the kid to you and you grab onto his arm in a panic. 

“Please no.” You want to tell him about how you don’t want him to go out there to die and how scared you are but that’s all you can force your mouth to say. Din seems to be able to pick up on the panic in your voice though.

“Hey, it’s okay, I’ll be right back Cyar’ika.” Your grip on him doesn’t loosen and he brings a hand up to cradle the side of your face. “I’ll come right back to you like I always do.” The way he says it causes you to let go and you hold the child tight the whole time he’s gone. However once the frog lady leaves the cockpit the kid starts to coo at you till you loosen your grip on him so he can follow her. You try to get up to go with him but you're still paralyzed where you are. 

You don’t hear Din come back up, too absorbed in your thoughts, so when he places a hand on your shoulder you flinch away. “It’s just me Cyar’ika.” He puts his hands up and you snap out of your trance and fling your arms around him not caring about how cold his armor is or the webs that are attached to him. 

“Baby get me out of here.” You sob into his ear and his arms wrap tightly around you. 

“I’m gonna work on that. Do you need to use the privy, we’re gonna be stuck in the cockpit and it’s gonna be a long ride.” You just shake your head in response. “I’m gonna need you to let go so I can do repairs.” You let him go but make sure to stay close to him while he does them. 

After getting off the planet Din turns to the two of you. “Wake me up if someone shoots at us. Or that door gets sucked off its rails.” You can tell that as soon as he crosses his arms and leans back he passes out. He deserves a nice rest after the day he had. You try to sleep, knowing that it will make the trip go faster, and you can normally sleep anywhere and anytime you tried. But this time anytime you closed your eyes your thoughts just took you back to the Krykna and you could feel the ghost of the ones that were crawling up your legs. Frog lady fell asleep a little bit after Din had and all you could do was stare at the endless darkness of space. All you wanted to do was curl up with your Mandalorian to feel safe and get some rest but you didn’t want to wake him up so you just stayed there rubbing at your legs when the reminder that they were on you came back to haunt you.

The child, who you didn’t realize was still awake, noticed that something was wrong after watching you for a while. He’s the one who wakes Din up. Before he can say anything to the kid he points in your direction. Din turns to look at you just in time to catch you rubbing your legs.

“Y/n? Are you okay?” Your head whips over to face him once hearing his voice.

“Why are you awake?”

“The kid woke me, I think he could tell something was wrong. Why are you still awake?”

“I can’t.” Your voice breaks in the middle of can’t and your bottom lip wobbles. He swivels to face you after putting the child up on the console. He pats his legs motioning for you to sit on his lap and you immediately comply, straddling his legs and getting comfortable. You feel so much better already knowing that he’d keep you safe. 

“You can sleep now, I’m here to protect you, darasuum. Ni kar’taylir darasuum gar, Cyar'ika.” You smile at his words and close your eyes ready to drift to sleep knowing that he’ll be there if you need him.

[devildomdoofus]

Winter Storm

Part 1

Lucifer, Mammon, Leviathan, Satan

WARNINGS:

‼️contains spoilers from chp. 16‼️

[[ angst, cursing, anxiety, fear/terror, depression, survival, near death experiences, mentions of blood/bleeding, hypothermia, dehydration, fainting, severe pain, cliffhangers ]]

Authors Note (sorry it’s long):

My sincerest apologies for how long you all had to wait!! I’m hoping what I’ve created was worth it. Because each brothers’ pieces were rather extensive especially being on mobile, I’ve decided to divide them into two parts where part one includes the four eldest brothers and part two includes the remaining. This is also to test the waters a bit and see if my writing style is decent enough to continue or if there are changes that need to be made before posting part two. Also, I purposefully wrote “cliffhangers” because I felt that, as reader, you should be able to decide MC’s fate for yourself according to your personal tastes/moods/etc. I hope it doesn’t come off as lazy.. it was intentional so that you may enjoy the content to the fullest and take it in the direction that you choose and not the author.CONSTRUCTIVE FEEDBACK IS ALWAYS APPRECIATED!! Good, bad, or indifferent, your feedback will help me write better for you in the future so you can enjoy my content to the upmost extent!! ALSO: If the spacing is weird with the paragraphs and such, I’m very sorry but for the time being, I have no idea how to fix that considering I’m on mobile and there’s only so much the app allows me to do. Anyway, I hope you all dig what I dish out! Thanks again for your patience, support, and understanding!! -DevildomDoofus

UPDATE (2-19-2021): Part 2 is out!! Unfortunately I don’t have enough content to make a master list quite yet but until then, forgive me, but you’ll have to search my blog using the hastag “devildomdoofus” or “my posts.” Don’t worry, I’ll get my blog in order eventually, I’m just a little slow with these kinds of things 😅 thank you for your patience and understanding!!

- DevildomDoofus

Prologue:

One word, a pair of twinkling eyes, and a pouty lip was all it took for you to convince him to vacation with you up in the human world. Maybe a few more ‘fluffy’ words and a bigger pout had to be used on Lucifer, as his paranoia was, more often times than not, justified by his brothers’ antics so... he needed further convincing.

When you two arrive at the cabin that you were to stay in for the week, you eyed the place over and it was rather beautifully decorated and cozy enough to never set foot outside for eternity, but with the wonderland that was just right outside your door, how could you not? By the celestial realm, it was like a dream. The ground was carpeted with fresh sheets or large comforters, rather of glistening white snow that reached just above your ankles, so soft to the touch that it could almost be compared to the cushy feel of Belphegor’s favorite pillow. The mighty mountains reach up to graze their fingers through the few clouds that wisp across the bluest skies... have they always been this blue? The nearby forest that towered over all, beckoned you to join them in their dance with the gentle wind. In other words, you HAD to explore! You set out on a solo trip to get aquatinted with your surroundings and take pictures to reminisce about later, while the one you came with unpacked your belongings to get rightfully settled in. You promised you wouldn’t wander far, just enough to really take in the scenery before venturing further out together. As a precaution, you dug markings on nearby trees as you tread and left stones in consistent, peculiar piles so that in the event of an emergency, any who might have to come looking for you would notice these things and easily be able to follow in your footsteps. Well, more or less, considering the clouds had secretly huddled up above you for another gentle snow shower and are now covering up your footprints. No worries though, right? You left plenty of stone piles and tree markings and you’re not even that far from the cabin. Someone could surely find you if you needed them to. You pushed onward, too entranced by the world around you to turn back now.

As time passed, storm clouds gathered faster than a pack of hungry wolves over a freshly fallen corpse and this became your cue to hurry home. To your dismay, you couldn’t find ANY of the markings you left on the trees or ANY of the stone piles you made. Ok, that’s not great but everything’s fine. The trick is to not panic. Maybe you just wandered a little farther of the beaten path than you realized. You’ll surely find your way back. As you searched high and low for your markings, the wind began to pick up, howling furiously in your ear and the once gently drifting little snowflakes became hardened, frosted hornets, stinging your face until they bit through your exposed skin and caused you to bleed. So much snow and ice, you could barely see 2 feet in front of you and could hardly lift your legs high enough to move forward as the levels of snow quickly rose to just above your knee. You had packed and dressed for whatever these snowy mountains could throw at you, but nothing could protect you from the fury of a raging blizzard for long. Pain from the dropping temperatures began at the tips of your toes and fingers and the longer you tried to find your way back, the more the pain spread and the harder it was to move anything at all. Everything inside of you, every fiber of your being was screaming for you to stop, for the pain was becoming too great but you just HAD to make your way back or you would surely die out here. These thoughts were starting to make you panic. Just as you were thinking it couldn’t get any worse, the wind grew even stronger and was starting to knock you to your knees. At this rate, you were causing more harm than good to yourself, perilously trying to toughen it out. Instead, you decided to find a makeshift shelter, just strong and big enough to keep the snow and wind off of you as you would attempt to warm up.

As if by divine intervention, you could make out a large rock formation with an opening big enough for you to huddle up under, just ahead of you. You ducked low and crawled in, hunkering down in your saving grace. As you shivered in the shadows, heaving and trying to collect yourself before deciding what to do next, you realized that numbness had settled into your limbs and you could no longer feel them, much less move them. You tried, desperately, over and over to inch them in any way but damn it, nothing would. Tears began to puddle at the corners of your eyes as your mind began to race. You should have never left the cabin alone. You knew better, you just couldn’t help yourself. The tears started to fall more and more as the thoughts started spiraling. How could you be so stupid? Now no one is going to find you and you’re going to die here, alone and deathly afraid. You could no longer contain your cries and in one last fleeting attempt to be rescued, you screamed for help with as much force as your withering lungs would allow. Nothing but the wind answered your cries. Before you knew it, your body was shutting down and your eyes fluttered shut right as you fainted against the rocky wall behind you. The panic, the wet and the cold, dehydration, the pain that once gripped your entire body that then turned to numbness, the overexertion, the hypothermia that was setting in; it was all too much for your body to handle anymore. Limp against the stone, you were quickly turning into a human icicle. This is how he finds you.

Lucifer:

Lucifer had been prepping for dinner for later that evening, as some meals tend to take an eternity to prepare, when the hair on the back of his neck pricked up and an uneasy feeling settled into his stomach. He could sense something was wrong even before the storm clouds rolled in. There was no way to explain it other than something is or was going to be terribly, terribly wrong. It’s the same feeling he gets when his brothers are up to no good or are in some form of trouble. It comes with the responsibility of being the eldest brother. He, indeed, trusted you enough for you to go alone for the simple fact that you were the most responsible out of his brothers, but that did not mean he didn’t still feel a bit uncomfortable with you out of his immediate supervision considering you’re human and humans tend to make many, many mistakes. You’re a child by no means and can handle yourself incredibly well, as evident by your time in the devildom and at R.A.D. He knows this and believes you could conquer the world if you so chose to do so. But even YOU know that he only acts and does these certain things that can come off as overbearing to some because he cares so deeply for you that he tries his damndest to prevent any harm that may come to you. Physcial or emotional, accidental or self-inflicted, whatever the case may be. He would give his life and soul up for you, just as he had done for Lilith. That is why this unsettling feeling in the pit of his stomach upset him so. He had to find you. He set out to look for you and quickly noticed a pattern. The markings and piles of stones, he assumed, were yours and, for a fleeting moment, it filled him with pride to know that you went about your adventure with a proper head upon your shoulders. Still, he had to see you and be able to hold you in his arms so that his worrisome mind could be put to rest. He followed the trail until it ended with you nowhere in sight. “MC, darling, what have you gotten yourself into this time?” Though calm in his demeaner, he was still fidgeting beneath the surface. Through the wind and hail that was picking up, he heard your cries from miles off and like a bat out of devildom, races to you. From pounding out of his chest to dropping through the crust of the Earth, Lucifer’s heart collapsed when he found you. “MC...” He rushed to your side in the blink of an eye and shouted your name over and over, but you didn’t respond. He rips a glove off and places two fingers to the side of your neck. Your pulse was so low, he had to press his ear to your chest, but even your heart was far too faint to be heard by human ear. Thank Diavolo he was a demon or he would have assumed the worst. You rarely see this man lose his composure, even behind closed doors. But now, when he looks at you and your state of comatose for the second time in his life, he becomes frantic. So many emotions racing through him, he doesn’t notice the tears welling in his eyes or his demon form breaking the surface. His fist clenches and he slams it into the ground next you, creating a cavity in the stone. He almost lost you once, he won’t let it happen again.

Before his emotions get the better of him, he swiftly yet ever so gently scoops you into his arms and immediately transports you both back to the cabin where he could try and warm you up and bring you back to your old self. Back to him. Bursting through the door, he rushes to place you gingerly onto the couch in front of the fireplace and carefully strips you of all the wet clothing, replacing them with warm, dry pairs. He wraps your neck with a thick scarf, slips fuzzy mittens on your hands, covers your head in a knitted hat, and drapes multiple blankets over your body. He then tosses wood into the fireplace, setting them ablaze before circling the couch and pushing it, and inherently you, closer to the warmth of the fire. All of this within the blink of an eye. He finally sits next to you on the cushions and takes you back into his arms, fearing that if he ever lets go, he will truly lose you once and for all. He’ll occasionally reach a hand up to the side of your neck or to your wrist, checking your pulse. Still too damn low. How in the devildom could he let this happen? For hours, he stays like this with you, keeping you so close to his chest that from the outside looking in, it would seem he was smothering you. The entire time he cradles you, he is mentally abusing himself for not being with you. For letting you go out alone. For not protecting you. For going against his better judgement and agreeing to come out here with you in the first place- no... that’s not it.. He’s frustrated with himself for you going against your better judgement and choosing him to be the one to come with you. Him of all people. He couldn’t protect Lilith in the Great War, he couldn’t protect you when Belphegor tried to kill you, and now here you are, lifeless in his embrace and fighting to stay alive once again because he couldn’t protect you from the storm. The tears began to fall from his eyes once more and they dropped onto your cheek. He looks down at you, cupping your face in his hand and tenderly wipes his tears from your skin. “Please,” he begs through the lips that threaten to quiver. “Please MC. Come back to me, darling.” He shuts his eyes and presses his forehead to yours over the knitted hat. Hoping, if only he could pray, for you to come back.

Mammon:

Before the storm even rolled in, Mammon went looking for you. It was unnatural for you two to be separated for this long and he didn’t like it. Not one bit. “Damn it, MC! We’re supposed to be doing this stupid vacation thing together,” he grumbles, as he stomps out of the house in a little Mammon tantrum. He saw your markings on the trees and piles of stones and began to think you set up the whole ‘going on a solo adventure’ thing as a prank. He chuckles to himself and beams a bit in pride. “My clever little human, turning into me.” A seemingly great idea at first, but the more he thought on it, SERIOUSLY thought on it, the more that two Mammons seemed like a bad idea. But he’d like to go over the so called ‘bad idea’ with you if he could just find you. He followed your markings until they stopped and that’s when the storm clouds rolled in. He was starting to get nervous. Yes, you hid and jumped out at him in an attempt to scare him on numerous occasions (which hardly worked, considering he was a demon and quite frankly, a powerful demon at that) back in the devildom but... this situation seemed different. Having been around you and your person the longest, he gained a sixth sense specifically for you. Your warm presence, your delectable soul essence, your precious voice, your thoughts and feelings, your wonderful heartbeat; he could feel them all, even when you returned to the human world for a bit. He could feel them all until now and it felt like he had gone numb. His nervousness turned to anxiousness. The only other time this numbing sensation has happened to him before is when Belphegor tried to off you right in front of him. He so very often wishes he could just wipe those memories from his mind forever...

For a moment, he thinks he can hear your voice, as faint as it is. “MC!!” He follows the direction he thinks your voice is coming from and calls your name again but with no reply. Then he hears it. One ever so minute thump of your heartbeat. He follows the sound like a wolf after a lamb until he comes across the little miniature cave his lamb had taken shelter under. He crawls in and he‘s instantly frozen in place. “MC?” You’re.. ? No you couldn’t be, you just couldn’t be. “C’mon MC, qu-quit foolin’ around. We have to go home. It’s s-storming like crazy out there, ya know?” Only the little echo of the cracks in his voice are his reply. He takes one of your hands in his and- shit! They’re so cold! Colder than when held you that time you were almost kill-NO! He lets go of your hand and grabs you by the shoulders instead, shaking you frantically. “MC, please, ya gotta wake up! This isn’t funny anymore!” The longer he shook you with no sign of you waking up, the more his eyes glazed over with tears. “MC!! WAKE UP!!” He growls, frustration and demon form taking over. Your body slides like a rag doll into his arms and that’s when he finally realizes that this is no prank and you’re in serious, serious danger. His heart disintegrates in his chest and nothing could stop the tears from cascading down his face like rain. For just a few moments, he sits there in that cave, holding your frozen body in his arms and rocking you as he cries heavily into your hair. He’s so hurt, so fucking hurt that this is the second time that he couldn’t protect you when he said he would. But by Diavolo, he had to keep trying until the absolute very last millisecond.

He gets a grip on himself, cradles you tightly into his embrace and skyrockets back to the cabin. Once there, he’s doing anything and everything in his power to get you warm. Heated blankets, warm and dry clothes, thick gloves, fuzzy hats, warmed pillows and cushions, a fire in the fireplace, the thermostat cranked up by 5 degrees, EVERYTHING. He even went to the extent of placing his bare hands into the fire, pulling them out to cool them down to an appropriate temperature, and then placing them over your ears, under the hat and across your forehead, or he would cradle your face in his hands to gingerly brush his warmed thumbs over your cheeks and nose. He simply could not sit still. There had to be something more he could do to help you, something more he could do to make up for his mistakes. He couldn’t stop no matter what. He loved you too much to give up so easily.

Leviathan:

Leviathan had originally intended to get both of your belongings unpacked as quickly as possible so that later that evening, you two could have a video game binge with the new game the TSL franchise came out with, honestly he did, but... as soon as he turned on the tv to test the reception in the area, one of the human shows you often mentioned to him popped up on the screen and he was instantly glued to the couch. The characters were as entertaining as you had described them in that cute way where your eyes sparkled and lips curled into a smile. He loved the way you beamed with joy He loved y- He couldn’t pry his eyes away from the screen, not even for a second. That is, until 20 minutes later and the show turned to static. “Oh for crying out loud,” he grumbles as he clicks the tv off and tosses the remote to the side. It was just like this normie of a human world to have terrible reception, especially during an intense episode. Surely he had it recorded somewhere back in his room in the Devildom. With newfound boredom, he stepped to the window and looked outside. Sheesh, it had gotten dark rather quick. It would be an awful shame for someone to be stuck out in this impending weather, just as the food in TSL had been stuck in terrible weather that The Lord of Fools sent The Lord of Flies. Such a kind gesture from the Lord of Fools, considering his former lover, Geldie, was found frozen in- “OH SHIT! MC!!”

He kicked open the door and stumbled around in the snow and gusting winds before getting his snow legs, then frantically circled the cabin, looking for any sign of you. He finds the markings in the trees and little stone piles and figured that they must belong to you. As he tread, he couldn’t help but beat himself up for letting you go alone, especially considering neither of you knew the area well enough. He understood, more than anyone in all the realms, that time alone is sacred and shouldn’t be interrupted without a legitimate reason. But even still, he wished that you would have teased him to go with you, like you often times did, until he would inevitably cave and follow behind you as he would then talk about the situation being “like that one scene from that one anime we watched together where the male protagonist somehow turns into a puppy, lost and confused, until the female protagonist comes along and takes him in and loves him for who he is and he turns back into a human and follows her around like he did when he was a puppy and-...” The rest of the walk would be filled with talks of which anime or show or video game resembled each moment you two shared.. and you loved every second of it. His eyes lit up like the sun shone right behind them and his precious little grin when he would recall humorous scenes. He would blush when he caught you staring and stumble over the next few sentences before eventually shutting up and just holding your hand (for safety of course) as you giggled at him for being so damn cute. His memories of those times kept him warm as they could as he continued onward in search of you, hoping that you weren’t in too much danger. But with how little mercy the storm was showing him, the possibility of you being safe and sound was rapidly decreasing.

Your marked trail came to an end but you weren’t there. Instead, there was only the howling winds and cascading ice to mock him. Oh no, this is bad. This is very, very bad. He shouted your name in an attempt for you to hear his voice and be able to find your way to him but he received no answer. He shouted louder and louder but you simply wouldn’t answer. “Shit, MC, where the hell are you?!” Anxiety began to make its way through him and he had to lean against a nearby tree to try and collect himself. That’s when he could faintly hear your voice crying for help. He darted towards your direction, coming upon the shelter you hid away in and as he moved closer to you, he froze. You were deathly still and your skin was so incredibly pale compared to it’s usual hue. He couldn’t think, he couldn’t breathe, he was just frozen in place with nothing but your limp body and emotionless face in front of him. He had no clue what to do but try and wake you up as he swallows the lump in his throat to call your name. “M-MC?” No answer. He takes your hand in his. Shit, you’re colder than ice. “MC, pl-please... please wake up, MC.” The wind outside seem to laugh at him and his feeble attempt to wake you up. Tears welled in his eyes and the lump in his throat thickened, almost to a point where he felt he couldn’t breathe, much less cry. As his demon form creeps to the surface, he grabs your shoulders and gently shakes you. “MC, please!! I can’t do this without you!!” Your body droops into his embrace and his heart feels like it’s been dropped into a blender and turned to mush. For a moment, all he can do is stare at your solidified face and wonder why oh why was this happening to him. To his precious ‘Henry’... “That’s it!! Henry!!” He shouted to himself. What would Henry do for his loved ones? He wouldn’t sit here and feel sorry for himself, he would do everything in his power to help the ones he cared about most! Leviathan shakes away his tears, holds you tightly in his arms, and bolts to the cabin to attempt to save you. He wasn’t going to let himself get in his own way, he was going to try his damndest to save you and bring you back. To bring back his Henry.

Satan:

In the midst of folding and putting away yours and his clothes, Satan paused. Similar as much as he hated to be so to Lucifer, he had developed a sort of instinct to tell when something or anything was off and this sense was only heightened by his incredibly refined observation and detective skills. He couldn’t quite place his finger on it just yet but something was clearly off. That’s when he went looking for you. Knicks in the trees and your piles of stones made him feel a bit more at ease about going after you, as he felt you were at least intelligent about your endeavors and not as callow as most of his brothers seemed to be. That is, until the trail of markings came to a stopping point. It was difficult to admit, but this situation was throwing him for a loop. You wouldn’t have just randomly stopped placing markers for yourself unless something bad had happened and even then, you would have called for him using the pact if you were in danger, right? There had to be an explanation for all of this. He leaned against a nearby tree, neck deep in furrowed brow concentration until the sky darkened with thick, furious looking clouds stampeding in, breaking his many trains of thought. With a new indication of urgency, he continued onward in search of you. As the storm picked up, so did that ominous feeling and inherently his blood pressure. If this was your idea of a joke, it was highly inappropriate and if he’s blatantly honest, irritating, to say the least. Very. irritating. Although he was a demon and basically immortal, that didn’t negate the fact that he felt his time was precious and any amount of time with you was that much more precious. He had not come up to the human world, with the presumption that you two could finally spend some time alone together, just for the whole trip to be some pathetic excuse of a prank. You could do so much better; that he was certain of and for you to do something as lowly as this was an insult to his intelligence, his affection towards you, and an insult to him in general. He wouldn’t let his wrath, his sin, get the better of him nor would he ever use either against you but when he finds you, you will know very soon of his immense displeasure.

“Ugh...” He could hear how much he sounded like Lucifer as he is in punishment mode and it made him want to vomit.

Before the wind could really drown out any other sound, he thinks he hears your voice crying out through the storm. All of the anger that was building up instantly vanished and he hurries after you. Years and years (we’re talking thousands) of constant meditation, reading self-improvement novels, and studying a multitude of ways to strengthen one’s emotional fortitude, absolutely NOTHING could have prepared him for the way he felt when he found you. Frozen, limp, and lifeless against the stone; He didn’t have to touch you or call your name to know you weren’t going to answer. All of this was because he simply didn’t accompany you on your scouting trip.

It was too much. His wrath instantly took hold and his demon form bubbled to the surface. He wasn’t angry with you in the least, no. He was absolutely furious with himself because he didn’t protect you and he wasn’t there for you when you needed him most and he had no one else to be angry with but himself. Overcome with and blinded by the pure, white hot rage, he screams his broken heart out of his chest and into the sky above, and the earth trembled around you. The steadfast shelter that once braced against the harsh storm crumbled into trillions of pieces as the sheer force of his voice crushed them to bits. The trees no longer bent to the will of the blizzard, but to him and him alone. His anger practically created ‘an eye in the middle of the storm’ and all but Satan had stilled within it. As the last bits of his wrath dispelled and he could finally get a better grip of himself, he looked down at you before taking you in his arms as the storm closed back in around you. Using the last of his energy, he bolted to the cabin with you clutched to his chest and settled you onto the couch to start the warming process. More than anything, he wanted to reach inside of you, grab the coldness by its throat, rip it out of you, and proceed to pummel it into a fist-dug grave. He wanted to take your pain, your fear, your sadness and tears, everything that caused you harm and reign devildom upon them all. To make your suffering know the name of wrath, to know his name personally and properly. Yet all he could do is kneel at your side and wait patiently for your possible recovery.

[hottestthingalive]

would you like a writing prompt? well you're getting one so- anyways maybe some anxceit with "What the hell were you thinking?!?!" and "Can't you stay a little longer...?"

in shared silence

A snowstorm causes a power outage at Virgil’s apartment, so his partner stops by with Chinese food. Fluff ensues. 

Notes: I’m so sorry this took so long, anon! I hope you like it anyways!

Warnings: Mild cursing, trust issues

Relationships: Romantic anxceit, background implied intruality

Words: 992

Ao3

“What,” Virgil says when Janus stumbles into his tiny apartment at two in the morning, brushing snow from his clothes and hat, “the hell were you thinking?!”

“Well, mostly about you, darling,” he replies, fighting and failing to hide a shiver as he removes his soaked coat. “You weren’t exaggerating about how cold it was in here, hm?”

Virgil, wearing at least three sweaters, a scarf around his neck, a beanie pulled tight over his hair and ears, and the soft Nightmare Before Christmas blanket Roman had given him two birthdays ago, glares at Janus. “No shit,” he snaps, reaching forwards with one hand to help Janus in hanging up his jacket, the other keeping the blanket firmly in place. “You didn’t have to rush over here, idiot. You still had power.”

“I could hardly leave you alone,” he replies, perhaps more soft and sincere than he had planned to be, as Virgil’s cheeks and ears (or what is visible of them, at least) redden. “And besides, we lost it a few minutes after you texted me.”

“What about Remus?” frowns his partner, always more concerned about others than himself, even if others include Janus’ consistently chaotic roommate. 

“Patton is with him, they’ll be fine,” Janus says, dropping the takeout he’d grabbed from the 24/7 Chinese place around the corner on the table and turning to Virgil with his hands on his hips. “I’m more worried about you. This apartment is freezing.” 

“I noticed,” Virgil says dryly, eyeing Janus’ wet clothes critically. “I have some sweatpants and stuff that might fit you. Can you get out the food while I grab them?”

“Grab my sweatshirt too,” Janus agrees, already pulling the plastic containers from the bag. 

“What sweatshirt?” Virgil asks, the picture of innocence in the dim light of the flashlights, lanterns and candles scattered across the apartment, and Janus rolls his eyes. 

“I know you stole it.”

“I stole nothing.”

“Liar,” he says affectionately, and laughs when Virgil flips him off. 

Virgil does, in fact, get him his sweatshirt, and various other articles of warm clothing. Perhaps too many, once they reach the point where Janus reminds Virgil that three scarves may hinder the consumption of the delicious takeout he’s so generously bought them both. 

“Then starve,” his partner grumbles, but doesn’t protest when Janus wraps the third scarf around Virgil’s neck instead. 

Janus is better at using the chopsticks than Virgil is, but it is difficult for both of them to eat in the darkness, unable to see if they’ve actually picked up anything, and so all of their concentration goes to the food instead of their usual conversation. He doesn’t mind, however -- he’s always been able to find a comfort in silence with Virgil, a quiet that isn’t really quiet at all and wraps around them both like yet another blanket in the cold, dark room. 

It doesn’t take long after they’ve finished and cleaned up for Virgil to begin falling asleep, Janus hardly more awake than he is -- it is two in the morning, after all, and neither of them have ever really been morning people (ignoring, of course, that this early in the day could really still be counted as night). 

“I suppose I’d better get going,” he says reluctantly, standing and pressing a kiss to Virgil’s forehead. “You need to get to bed, and I... well, I should probably get on a train back home before all of the lines shut down-” 

“No!” Virgil blurts out, grabbing his hand, before dropping it again like it had burned him. “I mean, I don’t... sorry.”

“You don’t have to be sorry,” Janus says, slowly entwining their fingers, giving his partner ample time and ability to pull away. Virgil does not, and he counts that as a victory. “What’s wrong, darling?”

“...Can’t you stay a little longer?” he asks, staring at the ground. “I don’t really want you to leave. You’re... you’re warm.”

“Oh, I see how it is,” exclaims Janus, masking the soft smile that tugs at his lips with a teasing grin, “you just want me for the cuddles, huh?”

“Of course,” Virgil answers, smiling too, the familiar banter a safety net for the moments of cautious vulnerability that, truth be told, scare them both. 

Not that Janus would ever admit that, of course; he has always been a liar, and there is nothing he lies about more than his feelings, just as Virgil has always run away from the pesky things. They are, perhaps, the worst possible people to be in a romantic relationship together, and yet they work. They hold hands, they look out for each other, and, together, they each open up just a tiny bit more, buds beginning to bloom in the light of their individual suns. 

“I can’t believe this betrayal,” he cries dramatically. “I thought you loved me!”

“I do,” Virgil says sincerely, and presses a kiss to their entwined hands, and if that doesn’t make Janus feel all warm and fuzzy inside... “But I love not freezing my butt off more.”

“Rude,” Janus huffs, but they end up curled together in Virgil’s bed anyways, within a nest of blankets and pillows, still holding hands as Virgil rests his head on Janus’ chest and closes his eyes. He is truly warm for the first time in hours, and there is no place, Janus thinks, that he would rather be than this. 

"Wake me up when the power comes back on," Virgil murmurs, already half asleep.

"I will," Janus agrees, but he has always been a liar, and when he wakes up a few hours later to the bedside lamp flickering on besides them and the hum of the radiator beginning again in the corner, he simply reaches over and turns off the light, closing his eyes and drifting away once more to the sound of his partner's breathing, floating in the quiet in which there is only himself and Virgil. 

Taglist:

@snek-snacc

[thegoodprincess]

Together We Are Apart, but Apart We Are Together | KTH Ch. 6

Author: thegoodprincess

Pairing: Kim Taehyung | Original Female Character

Genre: romance, fantasy, action, forbidden love, human KTH | angel of death OC, supernatural au

Word Count: 2.6k [series, ongoing]

Rating: N/A

Warnings: None

Summary: After admiring a handsome boy from afar, an Angel of Death reluctantly rescues him from his own demise. As a result of going against her better judgment she inadvertently invites him into her world.

Together We Are Apart, but Apart We Are Together

Chapter 6. Name For a Face

“Tigers die and leave their skins; people die and leave their names.” - Japanese Proverb

While I was awaiting his return, I finished up the remainder of my tea. It had gone a bit cold since it was first poured. Nevertheless, I still drank it, savoring the sweet flavor as it slid down my throat. I decided to lay down on the sofa to rest my sore body. Sinking down into the cushions and staring blankly up at the ceiling, I wondered if I should have went to retrieve the boy’s wallet instead of Malachi. I didn’t want his willingness to help to be misinterpreted as him enabling my own foolish actions. Otherwise he would have been just as much at fault, if we were to find ourselves in the midst of chaos. He had always been eager to assist with whatever trouble I had found myself in, ready to bare the burden with open arms. It sometimes felt like he was too loyal to me, like he was just blindly complying to my wishes. I didn't want him to help me because he felt he had to, but because he wanted to. In turn it made me feel guilty about how I treated Malachi, as if I was exploiting the nature of our friendship.

Lost in the guilt-ridden thoughts of my conscience, it hadn’t even occurred to me that I had closed my eyes. I had fully intended to stay awake until Malachi returned, so I reluctantly opened them. However, I found it to be a struggle to keep them that way. Fatigue was starting to set in as I tried desperately to blink the sleepiness out of my eyes. The calming effect of the rose tea paired with the soothing sound of the logs crackling in the fire created a comfortable ambiance for me to relax to. Eventually my limbs began to feel heavy and my breathing slowed enough for me to finally lose the battle against the Sandman. Just like that, I readily drifted off into the unconscious.

It felt like Malachi was gone for quite some time before I was awoken by a small crashing noise that emanated from in front of the fireplace. Looking drowsily in the direction of the sound, I squinted to faintly make out Malachi readjusting a drying rack I had set close to the fire to dry the boy’s clothes. Through blurred vision I saw him carefully hang the articles back into their positions on the bars, spreading them out to ensure they dried properly.

“That damn thing needs to be moved. Why would she set that cursed thing right there? Stupid human boy and his stupid human clothes. What if I had fallen into the fire and burned my as—,” he whisper-yelled to himself irritated before he realized he had woken me up. “My apologies, I did not mean to wake you.” He bowed his head embarrassed of his crude outburst. I stretched and yawned, feeling the muscles in my back strain from the movement before sitting up. “It’s fine,” I waved my hand with blithe disregard for his unnecessary apology. “How long were you gone? I fell asleep waiting for you.”

“Not long.”

I rubbed the delicate skin around my eyes to get a better view of him. That’s when I took in his whole figure. Looking towards his legs I noticed that his pants were thoroughly soaked all the way up to his shins, from no doubt trudging around in the snow. “Oh my gosh, are you okay? You’re soaked. Here sit in front of the fire to warm up.” I quickly scrambled off the sofa and offered him my seat.

“I can assure you I am quite alright. I am nowhere in the condition you were in earlier tonight.” He assured with a sincere smile while taking a seat next to me. I awkwardly sat back down again.

Suddenly remembering why he left, I anxiously inquired, “Did you find it?”

“Yes.” He simply answered pulling it from his robe. The leather of the wallet was cold and stiff from getting wet. “And it did not take me long, it was just buried deeper than we originally thought. The snow has picked up quite a bit since we last left.” I held the wallet not ready to open it as he continued. “I also disposed of the gun and the patch of ice he fell through, you will be pleased to know it froze back over.”

“That’s good. No evidence. Do you think the old man will report the boy’s involvement.”

“No. I already took care of it.” I furrowed my brows confused. “I took the liberty of tracking him down and wiping his memory.” Malachi explained.

“Oh. Thank you. I didn’t even need to ask.”

“Yes. Well, you are lucky I am the best,” Malachi facetiously boasted. I rolled my eyes.

“What about the gun man?”

“Did I wipe his memory? No, I want him to live with the guilt until it consumes him.” The expression in Malachi’s eyes turned unnervingly dark. “And I doubt he will anonymously report the boy’s death. Not unless he wants to involve himself with the authorities or worse get caught by them. He will probably try to go about living his life as if nothing ever happened.”

“That’s horrible. But it’s good for us, I guess. Less of a mess to clean up. Not that I haven’t already jeopardized enough for us as it is.” I ashamedly spoke looking down at the floor.

“You are too hard on yourself.” He frowned concerned.

“I have to be. I can’t make mistakes. Especially when they effect those I cherish most.” I said looking purposefully at him.

“Ha, even a divine being such as yourself is allowed to make mistakes. And for as long as you allow me, I will always be there by your side to help you fix what is considered broken. Even if that means going against the rules of our nature.”

“Yes, but you said, if the consequences were dire then I was to take respons—,”.

Malachi promptly held a hand up to stop me, “I am well aware of what I said. However, if your actions do not bode well, I will still remain faithful to you, and only you.” He chided. He then took a second to soften his voice before continuing, “Allow me to clarify. It is my choice, and I choose to help you not because I feel it is my duty to do so, but because I want to help you. Why will you not understand that? We are as thick as thieves, even when that means cheating death,” he quipped. And with that he chastely kissed my forehead to put my guilty thoughts at ease.

I decided to steer the conversation away from my self-scrutiny, and brought our attention back to the wallet in my hands, “Did you look in it?” Immediately after the question left my mouth, adrenaline started to surge through my veins. I was well aware of the spike in my heart rate and the perspiration gathering on the nape of my neck.

“No, I thought I would let you do the honors.”

“Oh. Okay.” Nervous, I turned the wallet over in my quivering hands and reveled in the feeling of physically holding the piece of leather. The movement made it hard to undo the snap closure, and my slightly sweaty palms were doing me no favors as they slid against the leathery texture. Finally after a brief struggle I was able to open it.

There inside his wallet were some clear card holders with one containing a card with a small picture of him. Holding it closer to my face I realized it was his driver’s license. To the right of his picture, in printed text was the one thing on my mind that I had been wondering for months, his name. “His name is… Kim Taehyung,” I read aloud smiling. “Taehyung.” I repeated again letting the two syllables roll around in my mouth. I wanted to keep repeating his name like a mantra, giddy with excitement that I finally knew it.

“Well, now that you know the human’s name, I would advise you check on him. Speaking of which, I am surprised to not find you with him now. Why is that?” He eyed me suspiciously.

“I was waiting for you. He’s safe in my bed. I could hear the steady pace of his heartbeat from out hear.” This was a half truth, I also wanted to avoid the temptation of staring at his sleeping form. “You, however, were out there in the snow looking for something I needed, cold and alone. I was worried.” I may have been preoccupied with the probability of the boy’s, no Taehyung’s, life; but that didn’t mean I was any less concerned about Malachi’s wellbeing.

“Ah, so you do care,” he teasingly joked.

“Of course I care about you. You’re my friend.”

“As are you.”

“Thank you.” I sweetly hummed the sentiment for the fifth time tonight.

He nodded as to convey that it wasn’t a problem. “It was my pleasure little bird.” He patted me on the head. “You should check on the boy and get some rest.” He nodded towards my bedroom door.

“I will. I suggest taking a warm bath before bed. Goodnight Malachi.”

“Thank you for the recommendation. Goodnight my dear.” He said as he got up and walked towards the bathroom.

After Malachi had left to run a bath for himself, I decided to put out the fire. I could instantly feel the temperature of the room drop several degrees. While blowing out the last candle, I looked towards the window. Through the glass I was able to clearly make out the moon. Its light that penetrated from outside was more than enough for Malachi to see when he came out to go to bed. As I made my way over to my bedroom door I counted my steps until I reached it. I walked with one foot directly in front of the other with my arms out to the sides of me, as if I was walking on a balance beam. I know I must have looked somewhat silly, but it was all in an effort to prolong the inevitable, as well as simultaneously calm my nerves. I ultimately didn’t want to seem too eager to see Taehyung. Finally reaching my door I briefly hesitated before turning the knob. I then walked through the threshold and quietly closed the door. Once the lock softly clicked into place, I leaned my head against the wood and took a few slow breaths in order to prepare myself. I didn’t want to look in his direction just yet because I knew once I saw him it would be difficult to look away.

Over on my bedside table was a candle that I wished to light. Using the moonlight, I repeated my odd ritual from earlier, deliberately looking straight at the floor as I made my way over. Except this time I made sure to walk with normal footing. I would have been mortified if I had tripped and potentially disturbed his sleep.

Placing Taehyung’s wallet on the table, I opened the drawer and blindly felt around for a box of matches. After a few failed attempts, I finally grabbed ahold of one. I plucked one match from the container and struck it against the side of the box. Not wanting the flame to go out, I quickly touched it to the tip of the candle wick and flicked the used match to put it out. Almost immediately my senses were flooded with the rich earthy musk of amber and sandalwood. Closing my eyes, I took a brief moment to appreciate the comforting aroma. The candle’s flickering light intimately lit up the small area around my bed causing our shadows to bounce on the wall. I then leisurely turned my head and saw him.

Tucked into my silk sheets, he laid flat on his back with his whole body, from the neck down, hidden under the blankets. I watched him sleep peacefully as I sat on the floor and knelt near the side of my bed. From under the silky blankets, I could make out the subtle yet steady rise and fall of his chest. If I listened close enough I could hear the sound of his soft inhales and exhales. Continuing my gaze upwards, it landed on his neck and the pretty curve of his jaw. From there I was met with the sight of his beautiful face, his expression passive. Slumber had made his features look innocent. The moles that were on his cheek, lip, and under his eye reminded me of the stars that sparsely dusted the sky on a cloudy night. They somewhat reminded me of a constellation and it briefly dawned on me that if I were to connect them, would I be any closer to navigating my zealous yet enigmatic feelings for him.

Against my pillows his head rested delicately. His hair was almost fully dry. A few locks in the front of his head curled around his face, while the rest fell elegantly onto the pillow like a halo. Its golden hues were complimented by the iridescent pearly sheen of my pillow case, and the sight created a picturesque scene worth committing to memory. I couldn’t help but be enamored by him. He looked otherworldly, almost like an angel. He could have very well been one of the ones that I had come across when I visited Heaven from time to time.

Finally able to touch his face in a way that wasn’t correlated to life threatening peril, I gently brushed my knuckles against his cheek and tenderly traced his jawline with my fingertips in curious fascination. Mesmerized by the feeling of the suppleness of his warm to the touch skin, I pondered how I got so lucky as to be this close to him, while also being able to reach out and touch him. It was almost intoxicating. And what was even better, is that now I had his name to go along with his face.

“So your name is Tae-hyung.” I whispered each syllable slowly more to myself than him, dramatically emphasizing the pronunciation of both. I smiled at the new found knowledge. “It suits you.”

Not long after admiring his sleeping form, I began to feel like my conscious reality was fraying around its edges. Walking a few feet on my knees to the end of my bed, I took a cotton blanket slewn messily over the end of the bed post and draped it over my shoulders. In my drowsy state I placed a gentle kiss against Taehyung’s forehead. I then turned to blow out the candle after my rash display of affection, but saw something that I thought was peculiar out of the corner of my eye. For what felt like a split second I could have sworn I had seen a brief flash of very faint light emitting from around his head in the dim candle light. However, I attributed it to being a trick of the light, after all I was exhausted and my blurry tired vision wasn’t the most reliable at this exact moment.

Taking one last longing look at his face in the moonlight after blowing out the candle [as if this would be the last time I saw him], I rested my head against my arm and was lulled to sleep by the rhythm of his calm breathing, hopeful for whatever tomorrow brought us.

[jinxfirebolt18902]

Ohana Part 2 - (Ben Hardy!Warren Worthington III Serie)

Words: 1.824

Summary: Warren accidentally made a family of his own and he’s determined to do anything in his will to protect them, but maybe that won’t be enough and a little help may be needed.

A/N: I don’t like this that much but for now it will do, sorry. And sorry for the delay, Uni is killing me.

Part 1

[GIF NOT MINE]

Hours turned to days, days turned to weeks, weeks turned to months and the only thing that had changed was the little family’s life expectations and health deteriorating. Every other mutant had catched up with the news. Not only Angel had been re-captured but also Mockingbird… and their brood. It had caused quite a reaction around the place. First of all, an offspring coming out of both of them was obviously unplanned, and revolutionary somehow. On the other hand, everyone knew humans were capable of committing terrible atrocities against mutants, no news there. But taking a child who had so far showed no abnormality at all into an illegal, unsanitary, fight club was beyond what every mutant could expect. It was clear a few workers felt uncomfortable with the situation as well but they only followed rules and got paid, so the best they could do was sneak Warren’s cage next to hers for a few minutes. Yet it was extremely risky and had only happened twice in over seventy days.

Their bodies had changed. Warren’s torso had now new scars striping his white skin. She was thinner and looked pretty sick. She always gave most of her food to Charlie to make sure he wasn’t hungry. The food quality alone was pretty bad. Dehydration and malnutrition were slowly but surely making their way within their organisms, not to mention the exposure to viruses and infections. The walls were rotten with moisture as well as the remaining wooden doors. The metal ones were rusty and the place had no heating except for the showroom. Clouds of cigarette smoke hung in the rooms as the ventilation wasn’t great either. There was no possible way of not getting sick, especially if you weren’t eating well, or if you had a four-year-old’s immune system.

Charlie’s spirits were of general concern. The other women in her room tried their best to cheer him up and keep him entertained. It wasn’t really difficult as he was so young and creative games easily got him focused. The problem was Mockingbird was losing her life, in every sense. The red-headed lady had warned her, she had to be strong for her son, but even if she tried her body was collapsing gradually. Her mind had tricked her as well. She’d convinced herself she wasn’t the strong lonely winged girl she was years ago. That rough girl had disappeared and the new Mockingbird couldn’t find the strength within herself to keep going. Everyday was a new battle against life, and each one that passed was making her wonder when she would finally lose. She had been put to fight mutants a few times and each had ended with her barely conscious, Charlie being forced to stay with a stranger in another cage and forbidden to look at her injured mother till the next day. The first time they took her a lot of shouting happened.

Two men came in the room unexpectedly, wasting no time in opening her cage. She couldn’t even understand what was going on until a third man ripped Charlie off her arms and handed him over the next cage, the other two grabbing her by one of her arms each. Her brain couldn’t process the fact they had taken her son away from her for the first time since they were there, a guttural scream stuck in her throat as her eyes explored everywhere around her in desperation. The female mutant known as Birdy held Charlie’s hand in concern as the little boy was terrified watching his mom being drawn through the door, tears falling down his pink cheeks and cries escaping his mouth.

As soon as she was being carried down the hall her voice suddenly screeched at the top of her lungs. Warren’s head, which was blankly staring at an invisible point on the floor, shot up at the recognition of the scream. He stood up at a speed he hadn’t thought he could and shouted back, trying to put his head between the bars in a failed attempt to catch a glimpse of something, anything. Apparently she heard him, managing to stop the men from walking further.

—Warren?!

He called back but the men had already moved again, pulling her towards the big cage. Warren was beyond mad. He pushed so hard against the lock of the cage the motion sent it completely over itself. The commotion caused a crew to come check what Warren had done. As they began lifting his cage Warren grasped the collar of one of them pulling him against the bars, the nose of the guy bent against the cold material. He could feel Warren’s breath all over his face.

—Where the fuck are you taking her? —the question filled with menace. — Where is my son?! —this time he shouted it, spitting mini droplets onto his skin.

The other men helped the hostage and took a few feet away from Angel as they feared his unpredictable behaviour, taking his rapid breaths and visible neck veins as a warning. They told him. His expression became instantly one of worry. No… No, she can’t…

After twenty minutes of show, Mockingbird was being dragged back to her cage, a sight which, although Warren didn’t see, Edgar made sure to detail only to enjoy the frustration and helplessness in his eyes.

Charlie hadn’t stopped crying till one of the girls with vocal powers sang him a lullaby. When the door opened and they brought her in several gasps were heard. Though Birdy had the toddler asleep in her arms, she turned in case he would open his sterling grey eyes and see the decrepit state of his mom.

The other times she was recruited were pretty similar. Lots of shouting, crying and useless anger. Now it had been weeks since the last time she fought yet her body was no better. Bruises still lingered in her skin, which was grey not only due to the dirt but also to illness. Her mouth was dry with her lips all cracked and her eyes half open. She couldn’t say if her muscles didn’t hurt or if they hurt so bad that she could no longer tell the difference.

—Mommy…? —the little boy left the made up toys given by the red-headed lady and approached her, making himself comfortable on her lap. A sneeze interrupted his unstarted sentence. He’d been sneezing and coughing a lot the last three days. —I miss daddy. —her head barely moved to look at him. She couldn't contain her own tears. With a movement that took a tremendous energy out of her, she held her hand up to caress the boy’s hair. She grunted in pain as she kissed his forehead.

—I know baby… me too. —her voice was hoarse and low. Every breath was an exertion.

A few hours later things were silently getting worse. It was the coldest day they had spent there. A thick snow cape covered Germany’s streets and buildings. Tonight a big fight featuring Angel and a really fat mutant had the air filled with excitement. It was the red-headed mutant the one who noticed it. Firmly setting her sight on Mockingbird she noticed she was breathing shallowly. She sensed something was wrong.

—Hey! Chs... You! —her voice got the attention of some other mutants. —Mockingbird!

No response. Her eyes drifted to the baby boy shivering in his sleep. He was covered in sweat and snot fell from his little nose. He was probably running a fever. They had to do something. She sent a look at her partners and they secretly set to work in order to do what they had to do first: let Warren know what was going on.

—Holy shit… —a young boy muttered when he got the news. He didn’t want to be the one telling Angel his girlfriend was dying right then and there, a few rooms away with his son suffering from fever on her lap. He swallowed forcibly.

 —Uhm… A-Angel?

Warren slowly turned his head in his direction. When the boy faced those empty cold eyes he muted, taking a few seconds to gain his composure and carry on with his task. —Women say your-your g-she. Women say she—Warren furrowed his eyebrows and stood up at a low pace, grabbing the bars for help. Panicking the mutant didn’t know how to say it and only got himself tangled in an unintelligible utterance. —Spit it out at once!

—They say she’s dying! —the boy shouted, closing his eyes as if trying to hide himself. When he opened them tho, he saw the blonde falling in shock. No anger, no eruption like a volcano, no tears, no breaths, only a blink as his body collapsed against the bars once more, the freezing material embracing him.

—There 's more. Your son. He 's very sick. —another mutant added.

He didn’t respond. Instead he turned his head towards the door and started shouting non-stop at the top of his lungs.

A third of an hour later, men came to carry his cage to the show but left him in the corridor that led to the electrified gate, not inside yet.

—YOU MOTHER FUCKERS LET ME OUT! —Warren’s cheeks and ears were pink. The veins in his neck and forehead stood out. His hair couldn't be more tangled and greasy. His breathings were rapid and he was sweating all over. His throat was already burning from so much shouting. He had to save her. He had to save them.

—Well well well… It’s my champ number one, isn’t it? —Warren’s face contorted with rage at Edgar’s appearance on the other side of his cage.

—They are dying. Get them help right now... and you can keep me for the rest of my life. —his tone was firm but somewhat pleading at the same time.

Edgar’s face stretched with a sardonic smile. And Warren lost any hope he had, leaving a deep hollow in his soul. There was nothing left, he’d lose them, maybe not Charlie, but… Everything he had got to know about love, about having a family that cares for you, about life actually not being that bad… It wasn’t fair. Why couldn’t he be happy? Why couldn’t people live and let live? He and his little family hadn’t done anything to anyone…

Half an hour later the crowd was full. He heard noises, shouts, voices, but not words. The blinding white light fell on him on one side and on the other mutant opposite him.

—Ladies and gentlemen! Weeeeeelcome to this exciting night with our champion number one, Angeeeeeel!!!

The front side of his cage opened allowing him to step in. He had decided to hate life. From now on, not a heart would keep beating if they came in his way. His opponent was about to pay for all the damage Angel had gone through, and boy it wasn’t going to be pretty.

[sweetwatersong]

take up the torch rating: g characters: Natasha Romanoff & Clint Barton warnings: none

The red in her ledger is spread out across a hundred books, tucked into a thousand poems. The truth of her past is broken into fragments to make sure in her next life she remembers. To make sure she is ready.

In the snow, in the quiet, one librarian has gathered them all. It's time to wake up again

AO3 link

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She stands poised on the edge of the sidewalk, fingers cold where they are gripped around her phone. The text from her roommate apologizing for leaving her stranded in the sudden storm hangs unread on her lock screen.

"God damn it." Her lips bite off the edges of the words cleanly, precise like scalpels, shining and steel like surgical tools. She cannot control the storm, cannot control the roads, but she can control this much. She's always been good at controlling herself.

The librarian stays tucked into the entryway, shoulders braced under his dark jacket, while the wind scatters drifts higher than her knees across the parking lot and the bus stop that will be empty for hours to come.

"Come back inside," he tells her when the snowflakes begin to catch in the curls of her red hair, collecting and running like ice down the nape of her neck.

Slowly, flushed with anger and dismay, she does.

-

“These look interesting." She surveys the books piled up on the librarian's desk, his hands caressing each like an old friend. Her interest had been piqued by the age of the volumes and their variety. If there was a pattern she couldn't guess it off-hand; it seemed a jumble of titles and subjects that can have no possible connection. Budapest, Children's and Household Tales, The Art of Dramatic Writing. Her own hands are small on the bindings as she glances through them, hovering over surnames and covers with care but not recognition. “Why do you have them?”

"Because they have something in common,” he replies quietly. There's an air of expectation that makes the skin between her shoulder blades prickle. "Since we’ve got time to kill until the snowplows can dig out my car, why don’t you see if you can figure it out?”

"Is that a challenge?" She asks him, amused and intrigued all at once. The tea cup sitting beside her, the grad school homework tucked into her backpack, the slouch of his knit sweater; there is something comforting about them, how they are a solid presence in a world where nor'easters can spin up in minutes, can sweep in from thin air.

He raises a single eyebrow, his answer clear in the quirk of his lips.

 Of course.

She considers the stacks, weighing Russian Fairy Tales in her hand as the reassuring air of the library wraps itself around her shoulders and warms her, grounds her.

There are worst ways to pass a few hours, and besides. This feels familiar, this feels expected, like she's been waiting for this all of her twenty-six years of life. It doesn't make sense, but it does, and she opens the first book to its title page.

-

"Clint," she gasps, the word a stone and anchor on her tongue even as her fingers dig into the desk. There are hands on hers, gripping her wrists, keeping her upright, but as soon as she opens her eyes the librarian pulls away and steps back, holding his hands out to show he means her no harm.

Natasha chokes on a throat gone dry with winter's cold, swallows a laugh too bitter and weak to be let out, because it's Clint. There's never been a life in which he truly meant her harm, and if he ever did he would need to catch her at a worse point than remembering her oath to the Torch. Remembering her life - lives - life?

It's too much, the memories swirling and jostling in the eaves of her mind for space, for order.  She drags her focus onto the books scattered in front of her, staring desperately at the black and white print as her mind struggles to contain itself. Herself. Her. It's always been her. All of this is her.

Like the snow falling outside everything finally settles, soft and quiet, as the memories imprinted in the book fall into place.

"Did you find yourself?" Clint asks when she's calmed. His voice is intent and hopeful and not quite right, off enough that another laugh dies on her lips when she looks, truly looks at him. It's his face, his hands, his shoulders under the thick sweater. But there's an emptiness in the corners of his mouth where his self-deprecating humor should be hiding. There's a lack of lines on his face from the ever-present awareness of his surroundings and its threats. There aren't any shadows to his gaze. It's Clint and it's not.

She wonders if she would have that same sense of unsettling déjà vu if she were to take out the IDs in her backpack and thumb through them, looking at the girl who had been Natasha Romanoff until she woke up.

Until she was woken up.

"Yes."

Relief passes over his face, unmistakable and endearing, even as this not-Clint relaxes.

"Then it's possible. Then you did it."

"Clint," she starts to say and cuts off, another girl's loose cardigan hanging off her shoulders, a pea-coat she has never purchased chafing her neck. He sits down in his chair, slumps against the back of it with gratitude and ease. "Have you?" Natasha asks instead, already seeing another table full of books in her mind's eye, Robin Hood and The Far Side and Lord of the Rings opened to let his memories out.

But he hesitates, stills, shakes his head slowly.

"I can't find the books."

How can you know, Natasha wants to ask, how can you say what books are the ones you need? And yet the multitude of tomes in front of her is reply enough, the torch on their bindings a flame in the night; a promise against the destruction that is coming.

"Doesn’t matter," he continues, dismissing himself in a way that makes her sick to her heart. "You're back. You're going to be okay."

Natasha swallows, lips tasting of a chap-stick she's never used before, and all the words fall to ashes in her mouth.

-

There is no set pattern to their wakings, scattered as they are across the millennia, but there is always a rhythm that feels like the truth. For the two of them it is as simple as the Hawk waking the Spider, as forever standing side by side to help the Torch of Alexandria rage against the darkness. It's the first life where he hasn't remembered before her, though. In the long stretch of her memories it feels like a tenuous foothold. Like a moment where one misstep will lose him forever.

Like last time they may have saved enough of humanity, and yet not enough of his memories.

"How did you know?" She asks in the pale blue glow before dawn, the night air cutting through her coat. He shrugs.

"I don't know. I just knew they told your story. It was scattered, yeah, just bits and pieces stashed here and there. Maybe the authors didn't know what they were doing, or maybe they always meant to bring you back. But when I started reading, I knew what I was looking for, and I kept looking until I found you."

How, Natasha wants to know, fingers curling into fists, when your own story isn't here, when you could have no memory of who I am to you? But this not-Clint is standing by the door, her backpack in his calloused hands and a lopsided touch to his lips, and the answers to her questions will not come.

She has looked, hunting volumes through the university library with nothing more than a vague sense of rightness for what is needed this time around, and despite all her efforts she has no more than a dozen books. If he's right, if they didn't write down enough of his story to make it complete in this era, if the memories she needs were excised or lost and never replaced -

"I'll find you," she promises softly, taking the backpack from his hands with its burden of books she won't let out of her sight. He nods in that rocking motion she knows so well, amused and knowing and already two steps ahead in the game, but this isn't a game.

He's never been a game to her.

"I'm okay," Clint tells her, without alien inflections, with that heart-wrenching voice. "I am, 'Tasha."

When Natasha freezes, from more than the cold on the wind or the snow, he cups her face and runs his thumb over her cheekbone.

"Stay safe," he whispers, and vanishes back beneath the surface of a stranger.

She leaves with her mind and her soul intact, snow catching in her hair as she makes her way to the waiting Uber, and in the curve of her heart there is a fire that has never died.

-

Ten months later she arrives with the first winter storm, a satchel full of priceless books slung over one shoulder, to look up into a face both familiar and strange.

"I found you," Natasha says, triumphant and fierce, and steps inside.