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nerevar-quote-and-star · 1 month

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I Just Wanna Stay in That Lavender Haze

ao3

Summary: Leara and Julia were supposed to be making the bed. They do not.

Author's note: Spur of the moment ficlit featuring the pairing of my Dragonborn Leara with Dora/Julia, who belongs to my dear friend @elder-dragon-reposes !

Leara needs some fluff and Julia is usually the best option. And that works out well for Julia too because Akatosh knows she needs the comfort and care too.

###

Julia’s hands brush hers. Taking the stack of blankets, Leara pivots on her toes to set them in the topmost drawer in the wardrobe. Falling back on the balls of her feet, her arm grazes Julia’s.

“Do you think we have too many blankets?”

“No?” Julia laughed. “Can you have too many blankets?”

Shrugging, Leara grasped Julia’s hand in hers and entwined their fingers. “I suppose not.” Squeezing that same hand, she released it and turned away. “We need to make the bed.”

Julia appeared at her side, a slender arm encircling Leara’s waist. “I love the scent of clean linen and lavender,” she sighed.

Leara made a sound of agreement as they entered the bedroom. A pile of clean bedding sat at the end, fresh from the line and ready to make up the bed. Withdrawing her arm, Julia reached over for one of the pillowcases. When she lifted it, a sprig of lavender fell to the floor. Julia moved to pick it up.

“Here,” Leara said, and swooping in, she took the dried flower from the floor.

Rising, she found herself very close to Julia. Again. A soft breath escaped Leara’s mouth, and she threaded the lavender behind Julia’s ear.

Julia watched her, her blue eyes a piercing flame that could melt the coldest of hearts. Around Julia, Leara could feel the ice whispering under her skin retreat.

Her fingers slipped down from the flower, trailing over the shell of Julia’s ear, then along her jaw before tangling in the dark hair hanging loose around her shoulders. All the while, Julia watched her, eyes wide. Then they sparkled as she quirked a smile up at Leara. “We need to make the bed, sweetheart.”

“Yes, we do.”

A warm hand grasped her hip, pushing the ice back with the force of spring. Leara shivered and closed her fist, Julia’s hair tangling around her fingers.

Then Julia’s mouth was on hers, slanting upward with a whisper of sweet wine and longing. Leara’s free arm found its way around her lover’s waist even as Julia pulled her closer. Warmth blossomed throughout Leara’s chest at the press of their bodies together. Then Julia pushed into her harder, her other hand curling under the other so she held Leara in the circle of her arms. Leara could feel the heave of her chest against hers.

Breaking their kiss, a gasp fell from Julia’s open mouth as Leara, freeing her entangled fingers, splayed them along the side of her throat. Under Leara’s gentle pressure, Julia arched her neck back.

Leara bent forward, pressing her lips to Julia’s pulse point.

“Oh . . .”

Smirking, Leara nipped at the sensitive skin.

“Leah!” Julia gasped. The press of her arms into Leara’s sides hardened, heating. Excitement and warmth curled through Leara’s stomach at the sound.

“Do you want to stop?” she whispered against the soft skin of her lover’s throat.

“No.”

Warm fingers ghosted up Leara’s side, teasing through the thin cotton of her dress. They come to rest on the gentle rise of Leara’s breast, melting the pebbled frost. Giving it a light squeeze, Julia giggled when, with a groan, Leara buried her face in her shoulder. She pressed her nose into Leara’s hair as she kneaded at Leara’s chest. Just as quickly, her other hand fell to Leara’s leg. If the touch of her hand on her breast warmed Leara, it was nothing to the heat of Julia’s fingers drawing the short hem of her dress over her knee and up her thigh, caressing golden skin.

“You’re always so cold; you give me frostbite,” Julia’s voice whispered through her hair.

Leara bit at her shoulder, only to receive a pinch on her inner thigh in retribution.

“Then warm me up.”

Julia’s hand grasped Leara’s knee, already raised to meet her attentions. Julia pulled it into her, pressing the thin limb into her side. “Maybe if you hold me, that’ll help?”

Leara’s response was to press her lips against Julia’s collarbone.

The hand at Leara’s breast crept up, trailing gooseflesh across skin before it reached the back of Leara’s neck, where it tangled in the curtain of chestnut curls. “It might help if we made the bed?”

Hooking her leg around the back of Julia’s, Leara shifted backward. Julia’s cry rang in her ear as they fell onto the bare mattress. If the fall and Julia’s weight on top of her winded Leara, she gave no indication. So splayed on the bed, she brought both her legs up around Julia’s hips and hooked her feet together. “Actually, I think this works just fine—Ow!”

Julia pinched her hip. “Just hold me, Leah.”

In response, Leara pressed her knees into Julia’s hips. She trailed her arms around Julia’s ribs, pulling her in as tightly as she could. Humming, Julia rocked them back so they were both on their sides. Leara pressed the side of her face against the swell of Julia’s breast, warm and softer than any pillow they owned. Julia’s hands stroking up and down her back, slow and languid, eased some of the permafrost clinging to the inside of Leara’s lungs.

“I love you,” she whispered into Julia’s chest.

Julia pressed her chin into the crown of Leara’s head. “I love you, too.”

Her hands fisting in the back of Julia’s dress, Leara relaxed into a haze of lavender and warmth.

“But we still have to make the bed.”

“Oh, shove off!”

#here have girls kissing #oc: leara roseblade #oc: kynadora lastblood #doralea #last dragonborn #dovahkiin #fluff #romance #fanfic #mod post #ao3 #tes #the elder scrolls #skyrim #do i need to tag this as girls kissing girls or is that optional?#someone somewhere is saying it's not #girls kissing girls

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knifedancer · 6 months

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Let It Snow (1/2)

Felinette story involving snow and kissing inspired by a 'snow' weather prompt. Loosely based on the lyrics for 'Let It Snow'.

Part 2/2 | AO3

~~~~~~

…is so Delightful.

Marinette had always been drawn to the snow. Even as a little kid, seeing the city blanketed in a fluffy blanket of white, she would squeal in delight and rush outside. Perhaps it was the individual patterns of every snowflake or the glittery, glistening effect of the sun upon it that drew her in… There was nothing quite as magical as fresh wintery powder just begging to be danced in. Okay, so there’s miraculous that gave wielders magical powers – sure. But the snowball fights! The snow angels! The dragon’s breath! Snowmen and igloos! The quiet stillness over the rooftops at night! She hadn’t outgrown her love of the snow as she’d gotten older – if anything, it grew stronger. Seeing the first snowfall made her just as giddy as when she was barely big enough to put on her own boots.

That’s why, when the class was on a field trip to a local park to learn about various animal behaviors in winter, she quietly slipped away until the nattering tone of their teacher’s voice was a hum in the background. She wandered into an open area with a fountain, thrilled that it remained untouched by anyone else since last night’s storm rolled through. Her smile widened with excitement, too big to be contained by her scarf as her small boot crunched down on the fresh snow for the first time. No one else was around…

Unable to contain it any longer, she squealed with joy. The young designer eagerly danced into the square and around the fountain. Her arms outstretched and mouth wide to catch the falling flakes, twirling from one foot to the other with grace, as if her body had forgotten how to be clumsy. Marinette hopped up on the edge of the fountain and ran her gloved fingers along the edge of the thin ice that had formed along the middle tier, watching with wonder as drips of water escaped down the still forming icicles below. Then she giggled and kicked her foot along the top of the basin – a spray of snow showering down to the sidewalk below. She continued her dance on her tiptoes, mimicking a ballerina’s pirouette with a spin, before leaping off and landing safely in the grass beneath a lamppost into a penché. Marinette’s heart thumped loudly in her ears from the exertion, mimicking the applause of her invisible audience as she made a bow. Her hand plucked an imaginary rose from her feet – scooping a small amount of the delicate white dust there – before launching it into the air above her head with a swift upward arch.

As the snowflakes rained back down, the pigtailed girl turned her face up to the sky with a dreamy sigh. “Been a long time since I’ve danced like that! I wonder if Nino still remembers the lifts we used to do,” she giggled as she closed her eyes, lost to the memories of childhood dance classes meant to improve her coordination. She let her mind drift to the haunting melodies her madame had played, puckering her lips to whistle along as snowflakes landed on her face.

Oh, the weather outside is Frightful…

Felix always hated the snow. Even as a little kid, he avoided going out in the winter. If he awoke to find frost upon his window, he would scowl and dive back into his blankets. While others ran around outside, dirtying their clothes, he preferred to stay inside where it was warm. He just couldn’t understand the appeal. It was cold and wet! The slush and mush! Icicles dripped down your neck when you least expected it! It clung to your clothes and made every joint in his extremities ache! Not to mention the chance of frostbite! Inevitably his cousin, a bundle of joyous energy, would drag him unwillingly from the house into the yard…where Felix would have to endure his every antic with a concealed grimace. Be it snowball fights, snowmen, or the nondescript lumpy buildings Adrien called a “snow fort.” After enough time had passed to assuage his boisterous cousin, he would retreat back into the warmth of the house and curl up by the fire with a book while Adrien nibbled on popcorn. Sure, he was intrigued by the ice and snow sculptures that people would create but felt no affinity to experience it firsthand!

That’s why, when the class was on a field trip to a local park on this overcast day, he waited on the outskirts until he could silently sneak away to find shelter from the light dusting that was falling from the sky. Only when Felix could no longer hear their teacher’s voice did he breathe a sigh of relief, pulling his scarf and jacket lapels in tighter to his body to keep out the frightful cold. He wandered along a newly trodden path, hoping that the hastily made footprints were a sign that whoever came before him was cutting the quickest path to a nearby café…

Felix rounded a small oak copse and came to a sudden halt at the sound of a girl’s squeal. In the clearing ahead was the class representative, Marinette, frolicking around a fountain, as if dancing to music only she could hear. This was a whole other side to the shy designer that he had never seen before! He was utterly captivated... The way she flitted around like a fairy, the bits of flurry decorating her coat and legs like flounces in a skirt; the crystals sparkling with the diminished sunlight as she moved. The way the newly fallen snowflakes adorned her hair, like a laurel of edelweiss. The graceful movements that seemed so foreign on the girl he knew for tripping on air. Her reverent yet excited touches that led to carefree kicks of snow.

When she leapt from the basin edging, his heart raced as he was sure this would be the moment the girl’s clumsiness would reappear… only for her to land and bow to her imaginary audience. The blood pumping in his ears sounded like the roar of a crowd. Marinette seemed to finally settle; her face upturned towards the cloudy sky. She started to whistle softly, the hauntingly beautiful melody drawing him in. Felix stepped forward as quietly as he could, not wanting to scare or disrupt the song. As Felix closed the distance between them, his breath caught in his throat. Her eyes were closed, he could see the way snowflakes were coating her eyelashes like glitter. Her cheeks were brightened by the exertion of the dance she had just completed but her breathing was even; her obvious concentration on the melody she was creating. She was absolutely enchanting.

He watched with fascination as a snowflake landed and promptly melted against her lips. He wondered if they were as warm and inviting as they looked. Overcome by his curiosity, Felix leaned in and pressed his lips to hers with a feather-light touch…

~~~

But if you really hold me tight, all the way home I’ll be warm…

With the final notes cut off by a warm pair of lips that brought fire to their veins, a silence settled around the two. Marinette’s eyes shot open with a start. In front of her stood Felix Fathom, the snobbish blond from her class. The same Felix that loved to cause chaos and impersonate his cousin. His hazel green eyes met hers, looking just as surprised as she felt. They were so close together that their cloudy breaths mingled between them, their noses just millimeters from touching. Their lips tingling from more than just the cold nipping at their noses.

“Felix…what…,” her voice came out as a confused whisper.

“Your little recital around the fountain was exemplary. It is customary to gift a performer with a token of esteem, is it not?” Felix murmured just as quiet, watching as the knowledge that he had seen her dance caused Marinette to blush a rosy hue.

She scoffed softly and took a step back, still bewildered by his actions, “Isn’t that usually flowers?”

“Was my token too meager an offering to the great Miss Dupain-Cheng?” He asked with a smirk.

Marinette sputtered for a moment and Felix took the opportunity to wrap an arm around her waist, drawing her into his embrace. She squeaked with surprise, staring at her hands as they came to rest on his wool coated chest. He chuckled and murmured into the crown of her hair, “Perhaps I can show you a better way to spend a snow day, my dear?”

Her gaze shifted up to look into his face again, only to be caught by a movement in her periphery. There, unexpectedly hanging from the lamppost, was a sprig of mistletoe tied with a red ribbon. Felix watched as her blue eyes filled with mirth at something over his head before coming back to meet his green stare. One of her hands slid up to the nape of his neck as she leaned in.

“‘Tis the season…”

Their lips met and they quickly found themselves lost in each other, no longer affected by the cold breeze or wayward snowflakes that flurried around them.

Felix never made it to that café but he did discover a new appreciation for the snow.

Let it snow, Let it Snow, Let it Snow…

~~~~~~~~

AUTHOR NOTE: I like to imagine a well-intentioned kwami planted that mistletoe there. I’ll let you contemplate which one. 😉 My vote is on Duusu, she seems like she’d get a kick out of it.

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aphroditewritings · 3 years

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Pregant Omega x Dragon King

Her love for Katsuki was what she could only describe as magical. Having known each other since childhood and having dated for their teenage years being the biggest couple of the village all the time since Katsuki was next in line for the throne. It was only natural to accept when the council arranged a wedding between the two lovers, deeming her a worthy women of being queen one day and a ruler of their lands along side her boyfriend, well her husband now she could finally say.

The blonde had unsurprisingly made it one of the best nights of her life, the very best night of her life though would be when the kingdom’s doctor told her she was with child and that the future heir to the throne was healthy and growing inside of her tummy. She in not only shock but excitement went to his mother Mitsuki unsure of how exactly to tell Katsuki they were finally having dragon babies after 2 years of marriage. The women had nearly fainted when she put her hand on her stomach and used her hightened senses to listen to the babies heart beat.

“This is beautiful” Mitsuki said caressing her stomach at the thought of a grandchild running around her feet finally. Mitsuki had made it an entire day’s worth ordeal, refusing to let Katsuki see or even look at her until nightfall came for fear his extra heightened senses would pick up on the extra heart beat immediately especially with him so in tune with her sent he would know something was up the second he would see her. It was also what made Katsuki scrunch his nose when she finally did enter into their bedroom that night draped in the long light pink silk robe from the bath and spa treatment the women had given her earlier, Mitsuki being extra doting knowing she was now pregnant.

She could tell he wasn’t sniffing the air in disgust but rather...intrest. “What’s wrong?” he asked almost immediately jumping up from the bed and wrapping his arms around her unaware of his mother snickering outside of the tent. “Nothing...well something but nothing bad. At least I hope not” she mumbled the last part looking at the ground and only looking up when she felt her husband finger softly direct her jaw upwards. “You know you can tell me. Never hold back with me.”

Taking a deep breath of courage in she grabbed onto his shoulders and whispered the words “I’m pregnant” in the air. He had froze for a few seconds, frantically looking her up and down to make sure he had heard her right before she felt herself getting lifted off the ground and into his arms in a giant bear hug. Needless to say, Katsuki Bakugo had been very happy that day and all the days after that.

Even when he had to rub her feet and massage her entire body, or go across half the village to get a food she was craving, he happily either went himself or sent his mother in. Ever since finding out she was pregnant especially once she started to show, her belly having started poking out from her dresses no one but himself or his mother were allowed close near her. His trust of everyone around her even poor Kiri who couldn’t even stop by to check how she was doing without getting snarls and growls from Bakugo.

It seemed never letting anybody near her would also be Katsuki’s downfall.

It had been during winter, a strong snow storm hitting the area and more conveniently shen she had been very very pregnant. She was due any day now, her belly swelled to its giant size, sometimes even making her feel self conscious but always remembering that Katsuki reminded her she was the most beautiful thing in the world to him everyday, big belly or not. He had gone out to the other side of the village to collect more fire wood go keep them warm but promised to be back shortly to her and the baby. With being pregnant with dragon kin babies, already came trouble from the outside as well.

Dragon babies sold for high dollar on the black market, high enough to probably set somebody up for life if they ever got their hands on one to sell. As sick as it was, Katsuki’s kind were sometimes sold off like pets, their owners always cruel and monsters themselves training them to be more like guard dogs instead of the beautiful humans they could be and were. It was part of the reason why everyone was so protective over her now, knowing how many criminals and other kingdoms out there would love the chance the snatch up her and her baby.

A giant explosion and screams had made her eyes snap open mid nap in the big fluffy bed of furs and pillows Katsuki had put together for her. Wobbling out of bed she slipped on her slipper boots and a robe before peaking her head out a scared yelp leaving her mouth when she did. A tent near hers, only a few down and belonging to one of the towns people in their kingdom was on fire a giant swarm of soldiers appearing out of the snow clouds with giant swords and axes on them. It finally dawned on her that this was actually happening, they were under attack.

She knew they would probably be dealt with soon, no one usually having the balls or the missing brain cells to attack a village full of dragon shifters, but all thoughts of substance left her mind when she felt big hands yank her arm. “Found the bitch” a man, apart of the group trying to raid them sneered down at her, a gasp leaving her mouth. “Her and that damn baby are gonna sell big” his friend that lurked behind him snickered making panic flash across her eyes.

So that’s what they were here for. They were here for her and her child.

“Help!” she screamed as loud as she could trying to trash out of his hold but getting a hand wrapped around her throat and stopping her screaming. “Just cut it out of her she’s about full term anyways. Sure as hell looks fat enough to be” the mans friend said to him looking at her with an evil glint in her eyes. Tears welling up in her own from her emotional sensitivity she took their moment of distraction from her to kick the man choking her while her face was turning blue where the sun didn’t shine for him, a cry of pain leaving his mouth as he collapsed on the ground holding his groin.

Running away as fast as the snow would let her she began her journey to the edge of the village aware of the men still running and following behind her shoutinh curses at her and her unborn child. It probably wasn’t the best idea to run into the open wild, 9 months pregnant and with no means of defense against the traffickers, but with everyone else busy trying to dispose of the rest of the mens little army it had left her vulnerable and with nowhere to run but to where she could loose them.

Not able to see in front of her any longer she fell to her knees in the snow, vaguely recalling loosing the men in the snow storm a while back leaving her to huddle into a pile in the white ground praying to the gods that Katsuki or at least someone from their kingdom would find her and rescue her, otherwise she knew her and her child wouldn’t last long in the weather they were in.

Sniffling with tears pooling down her cheeks she desperately hugged the fur robe closer to her body and clutched her stomach with two hands hoping to keep it warmer. “Please Katsuki” she whispered hoping he could somehow hear her wherever he was.

Back at the village, Katsuki had finally finished driving his sword through the chest of the last invader releaseing a battle cry of victory at once again winning a battle against petty criminals. He had been in a great mood on his way home shortly after, wonderful even ready to see his beautiful mate and talk to her and their pup. Ask them about their day. She didn’t do much nowadays but between all the pampering she was getting it gave her plenty to talk about. His world seemed to come crashing down upon entering his secluded tent though , one larger than life with a bed as big to match, completely and utterly empty.

An uneasy pit formed in his stomach as he called for his mate but got no response. Fear spiked in his blood more and more, him turning over blankets and table hoping and praying she was just playing some prank on him. They hadn’t gotten her...had they? A growl left his lips at the thought concluding something did happen to her while he was away but knowing she was at least alive kept him at bay, barley but there. Dragons could feel each others heart beats, once the mating ritual was completed mates were connected at the heart and soul for life.

“Katsuki please help me” a voice sobbed in his head. Her voice. Images and flashes of her laying out on the dirty ground in the snow, frostbite covering her toes, her heart beat getting weaker by the minute came across his mind Katsuki silently thanking the gods for allowing him to be able to track her. “I’m coming baby” he said gathering his things and calling for elite squadron and most trusted soldiers and advisors to get ready, giving them the blunt and only words they needed of “she’s missing, we leave now” to know they needed to spring into action. Bakugo shifted into his dragon, with him being the king it was the biggest and strongest of them there, pointy scales running up and down his back his body a crimson red color.

Roaring into the air he didn’t even wait for the rest of his support team before flying away and into the snow storm only one thing on the dragons mind as he felt his mates heart beat fade out more and more.

Releasing a quiet sob she was finally starting to come to terms with things. This was where she and her baby would die. Alone shivering out in the cold body huddled in a ball in the snow. A harsh breeze flew by a few ice shards spitting across her face and making her cry out in pain. Balling her fist together and rubbing her stomach one last time she could barley register the feeling of warmth spreading throughout her body.

The faint sounds of roaring and shouting were heard making her slowly blink her eyes open shocked to see herself surrounded by fire. Katsuki’s fire. Mates didn’t get burned by their dragon mates fire, another plus to marrying the man. It felt like her body slowly ignited and unfroze a gasp leaving her lips when she felt her body being lifted. She could recognize Mitsuki’s voice as the one holding her and carefully laying her now naked body from Katsuki’s fire on her in a pile of furs and wrapping her up. To scared and still to cold to move she allowed herself to be carried through the snow and placed onto the back of Katsuki who’s dragon released a happy pur at feeling her laying on his back.

Wasting no time he flew off into the air and back to the village all of the towns people crowding around as they watched their king transform into his human form again and carrying an unconscious queen in his arms. “Is she dead?” a woman whispered as Katsuki passed her but immediately quieted down when he snarled at her. “Sorry your majesty” she apologized looking anywhere but him for fear of catching his gaze.

Ripping open the flap to their tent he could faintly hear the sounds of his mother and Kiri along with medical staff ushering into the tent and lighting the fire place. He growled when the doctor tried to approach the bed he was holding her in, tears slowly but surly forming in his ruby red eyes as he rocked her unconscious body back and forth in his arms. His mother grabbed his shoulder a serious look in her eyes as she squeezed down on him.

“Let them check on her and the baby Katsuki, now” she said lowly uncovering the top half of her and her big baby bump luckily keeping everything for her bottom half decent. The doctor, who he found the least bit of comfort was a woman lifted up the bottom of the blanket and sucked in a breath. “She has frost bite on her toes, she’ll have the stay as warm as possible until they heal” she tutted and ignoring Katsuki’s gasp as she came around to her stomach. “I’m going to touch her belly, just the make sure the pup is ok” she warned waiting until Katsuki gave a hesitant nod and reached out.

Placing a hand on her stomach she felt around until she could hear the faint sounds of blood rushing to a second heart beat inside the queens body. Looking her up and down after doing a few more bodyily checks she concluded the queen was alright, just would be unconscious and exhausted for a while on top of her pregnancy. She was out for nearly a full day and night before she groaned out, her body sore and in pain and tried to sit up in the bed. Strong big arms wrapped around her hugged her tighter. “Don’t you dare” Katsuki said nuzzling his face into her neck. “I’m hungry Katsuki” she whined getting a grunt from him.

“You almost died and your first request is food?” he asked gruffly caressing her tummy and trying not to smile as he did so. “Do you not realize what could’ve happened to you out there?” he asked rubbing the top of her head to let her know he wasn’t angry at her by any means just was frustrated. “If we hadn’t of found you when we did...” he continued stopping when she placed her hand on his that was rubbing her stomach. “I know. I thought it was going to happen too, but they were going to sell him on the black market Katsuki I didn’t know where to go everyone was busy dealing with the rest.”

“Don’t ever think I’m to busy for you, you hear me” Katsuki said softly grabbing her jaw. “Anything like this happens ever again you come to me first and only”

Nodding her head at him softly she snuggled further into his chest smiling softly at hearing Katsuki call in his and her handmaidens and telling them to have the village chef immediately prepare her a feast “fit for a queen” literally and figuratively Katsuki and her both glad to have a fully healthy and safe family on the way now.

A/N

This is shit but I’m high as a kite rn so njoy ig beautiful people

#yandere bnha #bnha bakugo katsuki #dragon king #my hero academy fanfiction #my hero imagines

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stargazer-balladeer · 4 years

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December 3: Snowball Fight (Pokémon)

Characters Included: Green Oak, Silver, Steven Stone, N, Calem, Gladion, Raihan

Notes: I love all of them, okay-? Hope you’ll enjoy this!

Warning: none

December Fics | MAIN PAGE |

Green Oak

Green has long since matured, no longer his prideful and arrogant self (though sometimes, he’ll revert back to his old self-). Even though his mind matured, his heart didn’t. So his child-like nature was still there. You could tell by how his eyes sparkle whenever snowflakes fall from the sky.

Green is very competitive, so when you two engage in a snowball fight. He will treat it as a Pokémon battle.

Snowballs were thrown left and right as you continue throwing snowballs at each other. Your Pokémon’s were all safe inside their Pokéballs as they didn’t want to partake in the intense snowball fighting.

“Give up now, munchkins! You know you can’t win!” Green screamed at you as he throw another snowball towards you. “As if!” You hollered back as you block the incoming snowball with your arm.

Let’s just say you both didn’t stop until Red and Blue had to intervene to stop you two from continuing-

Silver

Silver thought that snow is annoying, like he had to put many layers on just to stay warm. That’s why, during this times, Silver hardly goes outside. He prefers staying inside in his sanctuary and near his fire place.

Though, even if Silver hates the snow, he would never back down a challenge from you. Because even if you’re his s/o, he still views you as his rival..

Silver groaned when a snowball hit his face, he tried removing the snow from his face with his hands. He can hear you laughing from the other side, and as much as he loves the sound of your laughter, right now it infuriates him.

“Are you okay, Silvy?” You called with hands cup around your mouth. He glared at you as he bend down to create a snowball to tose to you in revenge. “Aww~ is my sweet baby mad? I’m sorry!” You laughed but was silenced when a snowball hit your face.

This time, Silver was the one laughing.

Steven Stone

Steven’s eyes would noticeably brightened up when he sees snowflakes falling from the sky. Afterall, the giddiness he has since he was a kid never left him entirely. He loves walking through the snow with you as he watches the snow fall from the sky elegantly.

Steven would humor you if you challenge him in a snowball fight. Afterall, a challenge is a challenge. One that he wouldn’t back down from.

“Have you had enough, dear?” “Are you saying that you forfeit, Steven?” Steven only laughed as he tossed a snowball towards you. You shriek, putting your arms in front of you, blocking the snowball to not hit your face.

“I think we’re done, my dear. We wouldn’t want you to get frostbite out here now do we?” You grumbled as you nodded your head. Steven was right, again. Steven laughed as he went near you and patted your head.

“Now.. let’s go back home so we can drink some hot chocolate.”

N is very intrigued during winter times, afterall, during his childhood he never went outside of his room. Now that he’s outside and free, he was now fascinated with the world. But this had some drawbacks. N didn’t know that you need multiple layers of clothes in going outside, he thought it was normal. So that resulted in you finding him nearing death on a pile of snow.

N will blink multiple times before tilting his head slightly. He doesn’t get the concept of snowball fighting at all. But he’s willing to try if that’ll make you happy.

You shriek when you hit N with a snowball right in his face. You thought he would block it! You watch in horror as he fell down on the ground. “N!!” You screamed as you scrambled towards him.

When you arrived beside him, concern and disbelief was clear in your face. “Hey! N! Are you okay?! I’m so sorry! I didn’t think—!” “It’s okay, my beloved.” N assured you as he stares at your eyes. You pout and sighed before helping him out.

“You know what? How about we try building a snowman instead.”

Calem

Calem is neutral towards the winter season, though you can see a tint of fondness in his eyes when he stares at the snow. It also gives him a reason to tease you and cuddle with you.

Calem would laugh at your suggestion before agreeing to it, with the same determination he has when he’s battling gym leaders and trainers.

“C’mon, mon amour! You can do better than that!” Calem’s teasing voice rang through the field as he throw yet another snowball towarda you. Luckily, you dodged the snowball and returned a snowball to him.

You click your tongue when you saw Calem effectively evaded your snowball. “As if you’re any better than me!” You shot back as you bend down to gather snow to form a ball. Calem only laughed as he throws the snowball he made quickly.

You shriek when you felt a snowball hit you. You turn to glare at him, in which he stick his tongue out. Well, good to know that this match wasn’t going to end any time soon..

Gladion

It hardly snows in Alola, so when it snows, it surprises Gladion. Gladion is immune to cold so he doesn’t need extra layers to keep him warm. He prefers staying indoors btw, why? Because he just feels lazy to go out and have fun with the snow.

Gladion would also quirk a brow at your sudden suggestion before smirking.

“That doesn’t count!” You screamed at him, at which Gladion just snickered. “‘Course it doesn’t count.. that’s what they said.” Gladion snickered as he gathered some snow to form a ball.

You pout as Gladion shakes his head, letting a rare smile stay on his lips. “C’mon, [N/N]. This battle isn’t over yet!” Gladion said as he tossed another snowball to you. You grumbled as you let the snowball hit you, resigning to defeat.

Who knew that a edgelord is good in snowball fighting?

Raihan

Raihan will act scared and frightened when snow starts falling from the sky, since Dragon-type have a weakness to ice. But he’ll laugh it off later and admire the snow. Though he doesn’t fancy the cold very much, he loves the aesthetic feeling of snow.

Raihan is probably the one who suggested a snowball fight in the first place-

You blink when your snowball hit Raihan, which resulted in him falling over. You stare in disbelief at what happened. You were pretty sure that you didn’t hit that snowball very hard. And for a guy like him who has a humongous height, you didn’t think that a small snowball will bring him down.

“.. Raihan? Are you okay, baby?” You called after a couple of minutes. When you didn’t hear his answer, you started to panic. “Raihan?!” Your legs were running towards him as you drop to your knees. “Are you okay, Raihan?! I’m so so sorr—“ Before you could finish your sentence, a handful of snow hit your face.

You deadpan as you internally groan. Of course. You can hear Raihan laughing. “Serves you right, babe!” You sighed before rolling your eyes and a smile form on your lips. Typical Raihan.

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epiphany-of-a-madwoman · 4 years

Text

Cardigan | Jon Snow

Pairing: Jon Snow x Reader

Genre: Angst with fluff at the end

Warnings: —

Words: ~3k

Prompt: Based on Cardigan by Taylor Swift. I’m not sure if that translates, but it’s all I listened to when writing this so there’s that.

Note: Want to be tagged in my future works when I post?? Link is in my Bio! ♡ Also, I like -- love Jon a lot...?? And I want more content, so feel free to request more Jon content.

Winterfell was always unbearably cold, something you never got used to, despite living in the North your whole life. But despite the biting cold that left you feeling like you were seconds away from frostbite and minutes away from turning in a statue of ice, you loved it. You were enraptured by snowflakes that lazily glided down the sky, nearly iridescent when the faint rays of the sun would hit them. They’d land in your hands, melting within an instant, turning to small water droplets that would slip through your fingers. Your dark hair was a startling contrast to the white blanket surrounding you, your pale skin glowing in the light, making you look otherworldly.

As a child you’d run through it, as wild as the direwolves north of The Wall, running through fields covered in ice, no rhyme or reason. A ferocious yell leaving your mouth just because you felt like it, not restrained by the obsession of being civil and proper. But you were older now, no longer that wide eyed naive girl, instead of running freely, you kept it hidden deep inside you, only visible in a glint in your eyes.

You still often find yourself as far from Winter Town as you could, hiding away in the depths of the Godswood. However, instead of chasing imaginary battles against dragons, you chased shadows that were just as distant as your dreams. Their hair so dark it could be mistaken for black, but you’ve seen the sunlight hit it just right, exposing the soft and wild curls as a dark brown. Deep brown eyes bore into your soul, seeing right through every layer that surrounded you and hid your true feelings and ambitions. And his voice was deep, the Northern brogue only enhancing how hoarse it could sound, and sometimes when he spoke, you swore your whole body would tremble. He’d deny it over and over again, but standing in the Godswood, the crimson red leaves dancing around him and crowned by snowflakes, he looked beautiful.

Some days you danced around each other, mimicking the movements of the Lords and Ladies in lavish balls neither of you would ever be let into. You moved towards him and he took two steps back, making declarations about how unhappy you’d be with him, how he’d never give you what you needed. But by the end of the night, when the sun was completely gone, the woods around you plunged into darkness, he’d crack. He’d stop fighting, if only for a moment, and allow himself to drown in you. He’d pull you so close to him that two blended into one. Your lips would meet in soft and slow kisses, stars clouding your eyes. And when you burned from the cold, ice numbing your whole body, he’d pull you even closer, if that was possible, lighting you on fire with a single smile.

And it was nice, sneaking away from your parents and all the noise that surrounded you. Every stolen moment with Jon was built under a delusion that the outside world wasn’t real, an illusion that one day you could be more than an illicit affair. And each time you met, you told yourself that it was the last time, but you lied. Despite knowing everything the two of you built; every quiet moment under the stars, each second tucked away in the Godswood, and every secret glance would crumble until it was nothing but a ruin.

Even with that knowledge, the day you watched Jon leave for The Night’s Watch stung more than ice ever could, burnt you more than dragon fire would have. And as you stood hidden away, watching him with tears threatening to pour down your face, you swore your chest was hollow. He gave you one last look, filled with longing, sorrow, and all sorts of other emotions. You wanted to be furious at him, scream and yell until everyone knew that he was leaving you behind. But you couldn’t. You’d seen the sad look in his eyes, the scars covering his body from the mental and emotional lashing Lady Catelyn gave him with just a glance. How beat down he really was, truly believing he couldn’t be anything more than a bastard. And despite how many times you drew stars around his scars, no matter how permanent the ink was, nor how many you drew, they would bleed again the second you two departed.

So instead of making a scene, you just smiled sadly, wiping away any stray tears as you waved him farewell. To this day, your mother still doesn’t know why you cried so much that day.

Shortly after Jon left, Lord Stark was imprisoned in King’s Landing, accused of committing treason against Joffrey Baratheon. And before you could register what happened, Robb Stark became King of the North and marched off to war. Then Theon came back, declaring that Winterfell belonged to the Iron Islands, forcing Bran and Rickon out of Winterfell. And you wanted to go with if only to keep them safe for Jon, but they didn’t even know who you were. And each day, you regret your decision to stay when the news that Theon killed the Stark boys reached you. Your parents were horrified, your brothers and sisters mortified, and you soaked your pillow in tears that night, knowing the news would reach Castle Black and Jon would be devastated.

But then worst of all was when the Bolton’s came to Winterfell after murdering Robb Stark, Catelyn Stark, and any remaining Stark soldiers at The Red Wedding. They swept into the hold as if it was always House Bolton’s, quickly getting rid of any signs the wolves ever lived there. Statues were torn down, flags burned, and anything with a wolf destroyed. Then came Little Finger with Sansa Stark, marrying her off to Ramsey Bolton, who proved to be worse than his father in every way possible. And every time you saw the fear and desolation in her once sparkling blue eyes, you died a little on the inside. You wanted to help, but what could you do. So you just watched, millions of words caught in your throat.

But then the dark storm that drenched you in heavy rains that nearly swept you away, bringing lightning that nearly stuck you and thunder that frightened away all your sanity suddenly cleared. Warm and bright daylight washed over you, as bright and powerful as a Dornish sun. The sun burned out any signs of rain every being there, the intense heat drying out the water left behind. Suddenly the leaves grew back, more vibrant than ever, and wildflowers in every shade possible blossomed overnight.

Jon came back.

He came back with an army to reclaim Winterfell and the North for House Stark. And he won. Miraculously beating back Ramsay Bolton’s army with the help of the Knights of the Vale brought by Sansa after she escapes from Winterfell. After the battle was won and the dead collected to be buried or burned, the Lords and Ladies of the North gathered with the Wildlings that fought for Jon in the Main Hall. You’re not sure what happened, you weren’t allowed in, too busy trying to return to your old normal before you lived every day in fear.

But what you do know is Jon walked in that hall as a bastard and walked out a King.

You should’ve been elated, beaming so brightly you could’ve been mistaken for the sun. But you were petrified, petrified that you’d spent all these years missing Jon, only for him to have moved on. Scared that all those nights you flipped between crying, reminiscing, and cursing his name would’ve been wasted.

So you hid like a coward. You buried yourself in anything you possibly could, taking on any task no matter how big or small. And it worked for a while, the pain in your chest every time you saw his wild hair and deep brown eyes in your mind wasn’t as raw when you were elbow deep in dishes. But late at night, when you had nothing but your thoughts, he was there. Every second you’d lie awake because whenever you’d close your eyes, he was there, haunting you like a phantom.

So here you are now, the snow crunching softly beneath your boots as you approached the clearing in the Godswood. You moved towards the place you avoided for years, looking for the one person you wanted more than anything but could never have. Except maybe now you could. And maybe you were just sleep deprived, delirious in the brain from the lack of sleep, but you wanted nothing more than to see the face that’s haunted you for years, at least one more time. Because even if he sent you away, you could have a new image to see in your dreams.

Standing in the center of the clearing-- your clearing, it brought a twinge of hope, a warm feeling washing over your body as your heart raced, possibilities and what-ifs running through your head. He isn’t the shadow he was all those years ago, both there and not at the same time, no, he’s too real for that now. Standing in the center of the snow filled clearing, surrounded by barren trees and crunchy leaves that are scattered on the ground, he looks too regal to be compared to a shadow. The heavy fur cloak, similar to the one Lord Stark had worn, and Robb after him, looked good on him, framing his broad shoulders and strong posture. And maybe you were biased, but he wore it the best out of all the previous Lords and Kings of Winterfell.

You're at the edge now, unable to move any closer in fear of breaking the spell he cast on you. But then he turned and your eyes met, his gaze like flint, catching you on fire in an instant. His skin was paler than ever, cheeks flushed and rosy from the cold. Long unruly curls have been cut shorter than it had been all those years ago, contained by a small bun near the nape of his neck. He was older, more scars marring his visible flesh, but it was him and he was real.

You stare at him and he looks back, neither of you doing anything else.

And you swear the world paused, time standing still has you tried to comprehend that he was really here, and not a figment of your imagination. He wasn’t a delusion you created to cope with the lowest points of your life.

He was real.

You were running. And so was he. Within a second, you met in the middle, his arms wrapping around you and pulling you into him, lifting your smaller form off the ground as he spun you in circles. The heavy cloak was warmer than you’d initially thought, the expensive furs immediately warming up your frozen skin. You wrapped your arms around his neck, holding on so tightly because you were afraid he'd slip through your fingers as he did all those years ago. The very tips of your fingers bury themselves into his hair, pulling it free from the leather cord that kept it back. And this moment was better than anything you could’ve envisioned, his smell: leather, sword polish, and something woody, more enthralling than you remembered.

He sets you back on the ground but doesn’t release you from his embrace and you didn’t pull away. A laugh bubbled out of your mouth, it was light and airy and happy, something you hadn’t been for years now. There was a glimmer in your eyes, the same one you’d seen reflected in Jon’s eyes so many times before. Your face hurt from the grin that was on your face the second you met in an embrace and he mirrored you, leaning his head down, resting his forehead against your own.

“You came back to me,” you whispered, moving your hands from his neck to hold his face in yours. As if to further convince yourself that he was here, with you at this moment. Thumbs trace his cheekbones, running over the scar that followed his right cheekbone.

“How could I not?” he replied, his raspy voice low and husky, much older than the boy of seventeen you said goodbye to.

“I hoped you would everyday, but I-- I couldn’t--” your voice trailed off, the words getting caught in your throat.

“But now I’m back.”

“And now you’re back,” you replied, looking up at him with a soft smile. The seconds tick by, silence swallowing you whole as you just bask in his presence, memorizing each new mark on his face.

“I missed you.” Your voice cut through the silence as your eyes grew wet, glistening tears that shined like ice in the sun falling down your face. Jon catches them as they fall, wiping them away with a single swipe of his thumb. And then the small distance that was left between the two of you closed as your lips met. And it was warm and soft and gentle and happy. Everything you missed from your life, returned in a single instant. And it’s like all the sleepless nights, the tear stained pillows, and the fear and horror you’d endured through the years that was muffled by the coming of daylight was completely washed away. The only thing on your mind was Jon and his lips on yours.

He pulled away, but only just enough that the tips of your lips would brush against each other’s and his breath fanned across your face. You kept your eyes closed, wanting to savor every second of this moment.

“You were always there with me, gods I could never get you out of my head,” he whispered, brushing his lips lightly against yours. A shiver overcame your body, starting from the very top of your head until it hit down to your toes. A good tingly sensation that disappeared with him, but also returned with him.

“Glad to know it wasn’t just me, Snow.” You leaned forward, pressing your lips against his in a sweet kiss. It was like drinking a sweet berry wine the Southerners were so fond of or having a sweet tart that you stole from the kitchen. The sensation was addicting. The world could crumble around you; Cersei Lannister could march her whole army on Winterfell and Daenerys Targaryen could swoop down with her dragons and burn everything to the ground. But it wouldn’t matter, it would never matter to you. Not if you had Jon.

“Marry me,” the words left his mouth nonchalantly like he hadn’t just proposed marriage. Your eyes snapped open, looking at him, shock and excitement mingling in your wide eyes.

“What?” Your voice was shaky and unsure, hiding the pounding of your heart and the nerves in your body.

“Marry me, be my wife, and rule the North with me!” he exclaimed, much more confident in his words as they echoed around you, forever imprinted in the trees in the Godswood. And you couldn’t help but compare him to the old Jon you knew, the one who would never dare utter those words to you. Not that you didn’t want him to.

“You're crazy,” you breathed out, laughter and disbelief lacing each word. And he laughed, it was loud and warm and made your stomach twist in the best ways possible.

“Maybe, but I’m crazy for you. Why should I wait when I’ve loved you since I was a boy who didn’t even know what love was,” he said, weaving his arms around your waist and pulling you as close as physically possible. And the scene was similar to all the previous times you stood in this spot, too intertwined in each other to care about the world. Except this time tragedy didn’t hang over you like a storm, this time there was nothing but bright skies and sunlight.

“Okay,” you whispered against his lips. “I’ll marry you.” A beaming smile overtook your face, banishing any negative emotion that lingered on your face. At that moment, Jon wore if anyone ever asked, he’d say he has been to the South. And it wouldn’t be a lie, because the smile on your face and the vibrancy in your gleaming eyes was brighter than the sun could ever be, warming him to the very core. You leaned forward, sealing your promise with a kiss as you got lost in him, over and over again.

And when I felt like an old cardigan, under someone’s bed, you put me on and said I was your favorite.

o0o0o0o

Tags:

@stuckupstucky

#jon snow imagine #jon snow one shot #jon snow x reader #jon snow #game of thrones #game of thrones fanfiction #game of thrones imagine #game of thrones oneshot #a song of ice and feels

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indigobackfire · 3 years

Note

26 and 30 for aspen and Diego!! -thimblerigshuffle

Thanks @thimblerigshuffle <3 <3

30) Who is embarrassed when they have to wear their glasses and who thinks they look super cute?

Aspen would definitely be embarrassed because she most certainly spent several years mocking Indigo and her glasses lovingly ofc. But then Diego would be all loving brushing her hair behind her ear, going "What's the shame in wanting to see the world clearer?" "Don't worry, we'll still be kissing eyes closed."

26) Who kissed first?

Aspen kissed Diego first. Given this opportunity, I'll try and write it 🙈 (damn is longer than I intended oops) (takes place in y6 during winter).

“Blimey, it’s dreich out here! Is this really a good idea?” Aspen asks.

Diego marches through the crisp cold air of the training grounds with confidence and excitement as if he was under the spring sun, not even his thick sweaters seemed to limit his movement. Aspen on the other hand kept her steps short on the sheet of snow and herself retracted under her two layers of sweatshirts and her chunkiest Slytherin scarf.

“Have I ever had a bad idea? Don’t answer.”

“Ya ken we can use the dueling club room.”

“It’s occupied.”

“Ugh! What about the Dragon Club?”

“They don’t appreciate my dueling very much over there since Indigo and I smashed the place. We apologized, fixed the mess up, but they’re not the most forgiving kind, unfortunately.” He turns around and holds a stance, signaling for her to stay in place, about three meters apart. “Besides, I want to duel you here!”

“But why!? It’s like two degrees right now!”

“You think a dark wizard would invite you in for a fight? ‘Oh, please, the weather is dreadful, let’s move this inside.’ I want you to get used to dueling under adverse circumstances. And with that attitude, I can’t help but wonder, are you even a Scotswoman?”

“Wow, now you—” She unwraps her scarf letting it loose around her neck, if he hadn’t such a pretty face she would’ve walked straight to him and shoved her wand in his eye. “Now you’ve offended my honour!”

“Ready your wand then!”

But Aspen wasn’t prepared, he shoots an Incendio that misses her for a hair’s distance.

“Diego!”

He smirks opening his arms. “Thought you might want a little heat.”

She shouts an Immobulus his way, but he ducks and sends an Expelliarmus making her wand fly over her head, falling behind her. Now, if she could stop and focus on something instead of her numb fingers or how her nose felt like it was about to fall off, she would’ve remembered his lesson on how to act in case a wand was lost, but her mind was still reacting to her body and instead of lowering to the ground, she tries to go after it on foot… on a straight line. He only gives her the time to pick her wand up before shouting, “Stupefy!”

She falls hard on her back and is left too embarrassed and angry to even get up. He walks to her. “What have I told you about turning your back to your opponent, Aspenita?”

“Is the duellers worst sin.”

“I even gave you a leeway, in a serious duel you wouldn’t even have time to process where the spell came from, you would be dead or worse.”

“Or worse…” She sits up. “Ah, great, my trousers are soaked! And my hair full of grass.”

“That’s what you get for not paying attention.”

She rolls her eyes. “Oh, ugh—”

He furrows. “What’s wrong?”

“Uh, I think... ah, could ye…” And as he gets nearer, she pulls him by the ankle dropping him to the ground on his stomach. She’s cackling. “A new dueling rule for your playbook, Dieguito!”

He makes a both perplexed and impressed face to her, and as he kneels to try and advance towards her, she throws herself over him to get him back down, and with the weight of her torso, holding his arms back by his wrists, manages to keep him down.

“Does the snow feel good?” She says between teeth, pressing him down on the icy grass with her own body.

He struggles to free his wrists from her grip. “When did you get that strong?”

“Barnaby’s my best friend… or was, ah dinnae ken. I might’ve lost a couple of brain cells, but at least I put on some muscle. By seventh year I’ll be just as ripped.”

“Has Indigo and him… resolved their issues? Whatever they are.”

Aspen crosses her fingers and rests her chin on his chest, she can feel his heartbeat under her hands. “He refuses to tell me what’s wrong and she’s out acting like everything’s fine when it’s not. So no, they haven’t resolved a thing.”

“Barnaby still shows up for our fortnightly training but he’s usually quiet. Very strange for Barnaby, but on the other side, he’s never had a better performance before.”

“It breaks my heart to see them apart…If there was a pair that made me believe in true love, it was them.”

“Then there’s Phoenix and Ismelda—”

She holds his face. “Now, you stop. It’s frustrating enough the stuff with Indie and Barney, and now there’s also those two idiots—”

He holds her hands away from his face. “Ugh, your hands feel like ice needles!”

“And how are yours warm!? Bastard!”

He laughs making his chest vibrate against hers. “I’m always pipping hot, dear.”

“Blergh!”

Still holding her hands, he nears it to his mouth and blows hot breaths on them, her eyes focused on the plump of his lips, all the while her stomach flutters with snowflake-like butterflies. “And what about you?”

She blinks. “What about me?”

“Your relative’s hearts are breaking like glass, but how’s yours?”

She swallows hard. “You really asking me this? Seriously?”

He holds her hands against his lips, his voice comes as if a whisper. “I wanna know if I still hold possession of your heart.”

She drops her head to his chest. “I don’t wanna give you something you can’t hold… but it’s not like you don’t already have it.”

“Indigo asked patience of me and I’m attending to her request cause I too want what’s best for you. I’m still earning her trust in this regard. You’re too young and I might’ve not given the best examples in the past.”

“Too young my arse! You’re barely two years older.” She scoops up until they’re nose to nose, and the air in Diego’s lungs feels rarer. “I’m no bairn, Diego, I ken I want to be with ye, why isn’t that enough?”

“I love you too much to screw this up with haste.”

She opens up a smile with joy blossoming in her chest. “You… you love me?”

“Why you think I haven’t even looked the way of another girl? I’ll wait for you, the time I have to wait. Because there’ll come a time it won’t be an option to wait, we both know that.”

At the same time the weight of the world left her shoulders, a hot burden grew in her chest — laying as they were, even encapsulated in freezing air and with soaked bottoms, she couldn’t stop her blushing cheeks, the redness spreading to her whole face, speechless, leaving Diego to wonder if she was okay.

But before he could ask, she presses her lips against his and he doesn’t feel like breathing anymore or existing beyond the encounter of their mouths. He takes her scarf in handfuls and opens his mouth for her tongue, mindless about her still freezing hands on his neck. The kiss isn’t sloppy but is desperate, considering how long their wait had been, every second of it had to be made up for in this right moment.

It’s her to pull away first with burning lungs while he fishes for another and another feel of her lips — she still had a lot to learn about kissing with passion and he’d be more than willing to teach her. She stops for a moment to admire the redness her kiss left on his lips and smirks.

“You might be patient, but I’m sorry, I couldn’t wait to do this.”

He runs his thumb over her lips, tracing her skin discolorations. “Who am I to deny you of your wishes?” His stare makes her feel as if she won’t ever be as solid as she is under his eyes. “Aspen, you have me, my kisses and my victories and my dreams and all my love. I’m all yours.”

She gives him another soft kiss. “And I’m no different.”

He smiles. “And I don’t wanna ruin our moment, but I’ll get a frostbite on my buttcheeks if I don’t get up now.”

“Oh, sorry, love.” She releases him and helps him up. She looks around the training grounds, empty unless for the training dummies on the corner white with frost. She chuckles. “Damn, we didn’t duel at all.”

“I’ll make an exception just today, cause I feel like my ass is about to fall off and because I won’t be able to stupefy this pretty face. For today.”

She wraps an arm around his waist as they make their way back inside. “Perhaps I better find myself a new dueling partner…”

He looks down at her with a smile. “Never.”

#flash fic #aspen×diego #aspen samwise #diego caplan #yes she tops guys #this is her as a teen bc as an adult she's out choking him xD #but sexy #hphm diego #ask game

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tagsecretsanta · 3 years

Text

From @little-old-rachel

to @misssquidtracy

Secret Santa does not own this work, full credit to the author above!

Summary: Scott will always insist that actually, Gordon’s first snow was the year he was born, to which Gordon says, “yeah, like I remember that, Scooter,” but if you ask Gordon, his first snow was when he was five and three quarters.

Part One: First Snow

Over the last few years, Kansas has seen a spate of mild winters and wet summers - not even a snowflake to be seen. But this year is The One, Gordon can feel it. After years of envying the way Scott and Virg wax lyrical about snowball fights and school closures, this is Gordon’s year.

This particular morning had dawned like any other; a fine mist gradually curling a retreat from muddy fields, breath like dragon’s smoke before him as he and the other kids wait for the school bus, and a chill in the air that almost sounds like Mom (“are you sure shorts in December are a good idea, kiddo?"). Once sandwiched between a barely-conscious Virgil and foggy window, Gordon entertains himself drawing in the condensation.

“Look V, it’s a dolphin!” He pokes his sleepy brother in the side until Virgil raises his head, eyes bleary, and removes an earbud.

“So it is, Gordo,” Virgil says, though Gordon’s ‘dolphin’ looks more plane-like than aquatic.

“Do me a squid,” Gordon says, yanking at his big brother’s sleeve and employing the big round eyes he’s fast learning will get him what he wants. Virgil obliges - of course he does, because who could resist Gordon - and the rest of the journey is spent with Virgil poking out increasingly obscure sea creatures in the condensation.

Outside the bus, the sun rises, the fog clears, but thick white clouds remain. Virgil happens to glance up as he walks his brother to the kindergarten classroom, and says, “hm, I wonder if it’ll snow today,” and Gordon stops dead.

“Today?! Is it gonna snow? Today?”

Virgil suppresses a yawn - how is he still tired? - and shrugs. “Johnny thought it might. S’the right clouds for it.”

An electric buzz shoots through Gordon’s limbs and he can feel himself practically vibrating with excitement. Actual snow! Today! He can’t wait, even as Virgil tugs him across the ice-slicked playground towards school.

It’s going to snow!

****

Or so he thought.

Gordon’s been watching the window all day, to the extent that Mrs Cartwright has had to call his name three times to drag his gaze from it. He can’t help it that her classes are boring-schmoring and he already knows how to sound words out.

He’s only been in kindergarten for a year or so, but he’s less than impressed. John always gushed about school, sure, but John’s a nerd (he’s allowed to say that, because Johnny’s his brother), so Gordon took that with a healthy pinch of salt. Thanks to Virgil, Gordon’s heard enough about the arts department to last a lifetime, and again that’s not really his jam.. But Scott, too, was enthusiastic about his classes and Scott was cool.

Well, you know what’s not cool, Scotty?

Being stuck next to Barry Duckworth, who still mixes up his ‘b’s and ‘d’s.

“Gordon, please don’t make me ask you again.”

Gordon smiles serenely at Mrs Cartwright until she’s turned back to the smartboard, then tips his gaze back to the window. He can’t help that his brain goes a million miles a minute, until it snags on something, like the threads of Dad’s old Christmas sweater. And then that’s suddenly all he can think about for hours at a time; it’s why he’s so good in his swimming classes, because he can fixate on cutting through the water as fast as possible like nothing else, relishing in one of the few times he can outpace his brain.

Anyway. Thanks to Virgil’s offhand comment, today his brain is absolutely fixed on snow and there’s nothing he can do except watch as the sky gets greyer.

Maybe Johnny was wrong and they weren’t the right clouds, after all…

****

Except, Johnny’s never wrong - something he’ll only truly come to appreciate later in life - because when the school bell finally rings for hometime, he and Darry Buckworth spill out into a playground that’s ever so slightly dusted white.

Gordon grabs Barry’s arm excitedly, has the bizarre desire to lick the icing sugar-like substance. He resists, only because his mom’s standing at the gate and the desire to fling his arms around her outweighs the urge to get a good taste of the playground.

Besides, he tells himself, he can play in the snow later.

But there’s no time - there’s never enough time. Between rushing to his swimming lesson, dropping Virgil at his piano teacher’s place, taking Scott to Scouts, collecting John from Science Club, and the constant backdrop of little Allie’s wailing, the Tracy family is zombie-like over their dinner that evening.

It’s all Gordon can do to shovel chicken pie in his mouth as his eyes droop lower and lower, until they finally close all the way. He would have face planted straight into the remaining saucy goodness on his plate if it weren’t for Scott’s lightning quick reactions.

Before he can find the words to ask about the snow, he has Gordon tucked up in bed. His eyelids are too heavy to even glance out of the window, and so Gordon surrenders to sleep with weary acceptance.

****

The next morning, Gordon wakes to a whole new world he’s only seen in picture books.

He can’t believe how bright it is, it almost hurts to look at the dazzling, unfamiliar shapes across the fields. The sharp edges of every building have been softened beneath a wedge of snow, the field boundaries vanished under an endless white expanse, trees that were bare only yesterday now swaying beneath the weight of their new finery. Delicate crystals of ice dangle from the windowsill. Tiny snowflakes trim the edges of his window like lace.

“John. John, you were right!”

John grunts something back at him, rolling over and Gordon rolls his eyes.

One glance back outside has him letting out a whoop loud enough to wake even a hibernating bear. Gordon flings his door open, banging into his oldest brothers’ room and shaking Scott’s shoulder till he stirs with a groan.

“Snow, Scott, it’s snowed.”

A growl from across the room has him retreating behind his oldest brother’s bed, because a barely-awake Virgil is a Dangerous Thing.

“Gords, no,” Scott hisses. “You woke him.”

“Worth it!”

“Would someone like to tell me why I’m awake at 5:00am?” Virgil is the biggest softie in the world, with a heart of twenty-four carat gold, but in that moment his voice is deadly.

Scott and Gordon exchange Looks for a split second, and then Gordon makes his escape, darting from the danger zone and leaping into his parents’ room instead. “Mom, mom, moooooom!”

Dad cracks an eye open, murmurs something to Mom that sounds suspiciously like “save me from your son,” and shoves his head under the pillow.

“Like he didn’t get this from you, Captain Snowball Fight,” Mom retorts, but she’s got the fondest smile on her face as she looks down at her husband.

Dad peeks his head from under the pillow. “You love me anyway,” he says, sleep lines crinkling an unfiltered, joyful smile.

“More than life, Jeff.”

And then she’s ducking her head to kiss him - and - gross -

Gordon makes a loud retching sound, dramatically flinging himself across the sheets and thereby crushing any romantic atmosphere.

Mom rolls her eyes, but it’s just as fond. “What is it, sweetheart?”

“It SNOWED, Mom it actually snowed! Johnny was right and it’s all white outside! I can’t wait to play in it, please can I go? Please? Do you think we’ll get the day off school? Please say yes, pretty please? I can’t-”

Dad swoops down, cutting him off with a surprise tickle attack and Gordon shrieks, writhing down the bed and flopping to the floor with a thud.

He loves these moments with his parents more than anything else in the world - maybe even more than blue-ringed octopi, which is A Lot because have you seen them?! Living in a family of five brothers is absolute carnage and Gordon adores every second of it. But sometimes, it’s like he gets a little bit forgotten in the chaos, even more so since Alan was born.

Speaking of which, Alan, of course, chooses that moment to wake up, big blue eyes blinking slowly at them. Until he puckers his face up and begins howling.

“I’ve got him!” Dad says, rubbing a hand over his face as he makes his way to Alan’s cot. “What’s up, little man? What’s with all the noise? You're gonna be like your big brother?”

Alan brandishes his arms and Dad scoops him up, tucking up him against his chest and humming quietly. “Luce, love, I’ve got him,” he says softly, “I’m gonna need to go in to work this morning, so why not take this little sea monkey to play outside whilst you can?” He nods his head at Gordon, who perks up immediately.

“Actually, Dad, I don’t think I would be a sea monkey, they’re not much fun!”

“Oh, my mistake, what would you be then, son?”

“A seal, I think. They love to play allllll day long.”

“Sounds about right,” Mom says, ruffling his unruly blonde curls. “Alright then, little seal pup. Wrap up warm, let’s go play!”

****

John is awake by the time Gordon returns. As Gordon flings his pyjamas off, yanking on thick socks and sweats, John is there to steady him when he tries to shove both legs into the same hole of his trousers.

“You’re going to want those gloves,” John says, pointing at the heap of discarded clothes on the floor.

“Nah, I want to be able to feel the snow! Otherwise I won’t make the best snowballs.”

John rolls his eyes, but tucks Gordon’s gloves into his own pocket. “More fool you when you lose your fingers to frostbite.”

“What’s that?”

“John’s right, kiddo.” Mom is standing in the doorway, scarf wound about her neck and fluffy socks up to her knees. “Gloves on, or you’ll end up like Captain Hook!”

“He lost his hand, silly, not his fingers! Now come on!”

Gordon seizes his Mom’s hand and John’s sleeve, dragging them excitedly down the stairs to the door, bouncing uncontrollably as Mom unlocks it.

Finally.

Finally!

Gordon darts outside, stumbling in the thick layer of snow that sinks him knee deep and lets out a cry of delight as he sinks his face into it, and-

“Noooooooooo!” he yelps - yelps, not squeals, thank you very much John - and leaps back towards the door. “It’s so cold!”

“Of course it’s cold, doofus,” John says. His tone of voice would be cruel if it were anyone else, but it’s John so of course it’s not. “It’s made of ice. Ice is cold.”

“But… but…”

A cold explosion strikes him in the chest, and Gordon turns an expression of utter betrayal to see his Mom grinning maniacally. “A little cold never hurt nobody!” she yells, ducking for another scoop of snow.

Gordon lets out an indignant whoop, grabs a handful of snow and flings it back at her. It falls apart before it reaches her, snow scattering everywhere. The ice sticks to his hands, and he shivers at the dampness of it.

Before he even has to ask, John has whipped out the gloves and is holding them out to him. He gratefully accepts, just as Scott rushes out of the house to join them.

“Snowball fight!” he yells, eyes shining with glee.

Virgil follows, still yawning a little, but he perks up at Scott’s words. “You’re on,” he says with a grin.

Mom holds up a hand, “Scott and John against me, Virgil and Gordon.”

Scott hesitates. “But there’s three of you, and only two of us!”

“War is war,” Mom says, “there’s no shame in admitting defeat-”

“Oh you are on,” says Scott at once, as they all knew he would. “Come on, Johnny. We have some snowballs to make.”

Virgil bounds over to Gordon and Mom, and together they begin compiling their own mound of weapons. Mom shows Gordon how to pack it into a ball so that it doesn’t splinter apart, whilst Virgil quietly beavers away, producing snowballs at double the speed. Gordon’s cold but he’s also pressed between his mom and brother, and the warmth in his heart is absolutely worth the occasional shiver.

Finally, they’re ready.

With a blood-curdling battle cry, Gordon launches the first snowball. It falls short - by a good few feet - splattering at Scott's feet.

Scott starts to laugh, head back, just in time for Gordon's second snowball to strike him directly in the neck.

Gordon lets out a cackle that has Scott narrowing his eyes and pelting snowballs in their direction. Mom hurls them back as good as she gets, snowflakes catching in her dark hair, whilst Virgil works to replenish their fast dwindling stock. The enemy - his brothers, that is - put up a valiant effort, but burn through snowballs faster than John can produce them. Soon they are backed up against the wall of the old barn, and Gordon is breathless and exhilarated and joyful.

"Surrender or die!" he bellows, holding a snowball in each hand.

"Gordon," Mom says sharply, and Gordon sighs.

"Fine. Surrender or suffer!"

Even as they raise their hands in unison, John's grin stretches his cheeks wide and Scott's eyes gleam with amusement.

Gordon is fit to burst with all of the warm, happy feelings inside of him, coursing through his veins like the ocean currents.

****

Once a truce has been declared and Gordon's Squad are pronounced the rightful champions, the five of them drift in groups to catch their breath. It’s hard work racing round in snow, especially when you’re practically wading in it, and Gordon flops to the ground to relish in his victory.

Virgil, predictably, begins creating, rolling a ball of snow round and round till it's as tall as Gordon! Scott and Mom head inside, tracking slush pools in their wake. John plops down beside Gordon, and then leans all the way back.

“What are you doing?” Gordon asks. John is now thrashing his arms and legs through the snow enthusiastically, flattening it beneath his gangly limbs.

“Snow angel! You try!”

Gordon shoots him a dubious look, but obeys, copying John’s movements. John helps him up, and they survey their handiwork. One small, wonky angel, one with huge wings and long legs.

“Snow day, guys!!” Scott sprints back outside. “The bus got stuck coming up the hill!”

If Gordon’s being totally honest, he’d forgotten today was technically a school day at all, too caught up in the fun and frivolity of experiencing his first ever snow.

“Try to look a little less delighted, Gordon,” Mom laughs, back in the doorway with Alan in her arms. He’s cocooned in layer upon layer, eyes wide at the landscape around him. Scott heads to where Virgil is jabbing sticks into his snowman’s sides, and holds out a carrot. Beaming, Virgil takes it and turns to Gordon.

“Wanna help make your first ever snowman?”

“Yes!”

“You can do his nose! Here,” Virgil puts the carrot in Gordon’s hands, and lifts him beneath the arms so that he’s level with the snowman’s head. Grinning, Gordon pushes the carrot in, laughing at the ridiculousness of it all.

It’s the perfect day, and it’s barely 9:00am. No day will ever top this day.

Unable to find the words to express all the happiness dancing little jigs in his chest, he grabs Scott and Virgil, clinging to them in a cuddle. John joins them, and before long, Mom and Alan are there too, Allie clutching at Gordon’s curls.

It’s overwhelmingly wonderful: warming in a way that is less to do with physical heat and more to do with the absolute overflow of love in his heart.

Later that day, they’ll stand around the kitchen, dripping over the tiles and arguing over who gets the first dibs of hot water. They’ll regroup in the lounge, Scott and Virgil curled together on one couch, John at their feet, Gordon tucked between Mom and Dad (who admits defeat when the car engine refuses to sputter into life) on the other. They’ll cradle Mom’s magical hot cocoa in thawing fingers - and Gordon’s will be more marshmallow than hot chocolate - and put on a movie they’ll be too busy talking through to pay much attention. Dad will light a fire, guiding Scott through creating the perfect log stack, and the crackling heat of it will lull them to sleep one at a time.

It will be the perfect day.

#thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds 2015 #tag team secret santa #secret santa 2020 #Gordon Tracy #Scott Tracy #Virgil Tracy #John Tracy #alan tracy #Lucille Tracy #jeff tracy

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crearuru · 3 years

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Bravely Default II, Martha x Adelle Chapter 1?

Spoilers for Chapter 3 through the end of the game chapter 6. Word count: 3,113. A lot. Like a lot. I'd count but tumblr wont let me copy paste the whole thing at once and its 4 am

Everyone knows Rhimedhal's winters are colder than the deepest ocean, and that the freezing winds could cut with a fury matching the most skilled skilled of mages. Of course, reading about it was one thing, but to a certain fairy from as sheltered and temperate an environment as Mag Mell, the thought to dress properly for the cold came far too late.

I knew it would be cold, but this is just ridiculous! If my wings were out they'd freeze before I could even get off the ground... Adelle pondered if keeping her disguise intact was worth the freezing cold. Surely, no one being around would allow her to drop her guard... but could she ever truly know who was watching? She'd set out to find her sister knowing she would need to lay low, but dressed for warmth as she was, and with such low visibility, she admitted she desperately needed shelter. She couldn't risk alienating herself from any nearby humans who might spot her braving the storm.

Even the monsters are hunkered down, she thought bitterly to herself. And where was this Rhimedhal town supposed to be, anyways? Surely she should've reached it by now... But she had to keep moving. Had to find somewhere to rest. The wind buffeted her, the ice it carried leaving shallow slices across her exposed midsection. The blizzard had arrived so suddenly, and her memory of the beautiful, gentle snowy night that it interrupted was far from a priority now. Leaving the Wayward Woods was something she needed to do, for her sister, but it was too late to return and beg for more supplies. She wondered how she would ever find those flowers she promised to bring back for her dear friend if she froze out here.

Is that... A cave? A section of darkness ahead, when the blinding white snow clung to everything else brought Adelle's heart a renewed vigor. She would not fall so soon into her journey, not to something as simple as the weather. As she tucked into the Serpent's Grotto, she lit a small fire and set up a tent. She would need to hunker down until the storm passed, which could take anywhere from hours... to weeks. As she regained feeling in her extremities, she realized the wind would blow out her fire if she did not go deeper.... and monsters within the cave may ambush her if she did not take caution. But first... she needed rest. Just an hour or two, and she would be fine. She wasn't in direct path of the wind, for she was behind an outcropping in the cave. She had some time to recover before pressing on.

And so, Adelle slept. Cold, hungry, and exhausted... But not alone. She dreamt of brown hair, of eyes locked upon her with a determination that matched her own, of flashes of silver and pink just out of the fire's light...

And the subject of these dreams knew she was there. Martha had asked Master Gwidyion if someone was coming, and he more than confirmed it. But was the stranger friend, or foe? That is what Martha set to find out. As she prowled the Grotto, her jaw firmly set, her eyes sharp and focused, she wondered if this visitor understood the ground upon which they trespassed. Were they here for the Lord of Dragons? To help? To harm? Master Gwydion had been sick for a while, and Martha worried he may not have much time left. Gwilym was next to inherit the position, but he was young. Needed time. Martha had served Master Gwydion for most of her life, as did her father before her, and his father, and so on. To neglect opportunities to extend his time on Excillant would just not do.

Having taken care of a few troublesome spirits, Martha reached the entrance to the cave. She saw a gray haired girl, in blue and grey, around her age, who she was surprised to see had not succumbed to the cold. Wearing a short shirt and loose pants in a blizzard? Sure, Martha wasn't exactly the picture of bundling up right now, but that was the result of the Dragoon asterisk! She wouldn't leave her midsection exposed to the cold if she weren't the Dragoon guardian, especially not going out into the blizzard full force. Looking closer, she noticed the girl was cut up something awful. The ice in the air had done quite the number on her face and torso. Foe or not, Martha knew she wouldn't likely make it without treatment. Not without some severe frostbite, at least. Eyeing the girl curiously, she picked her up and set her upon her broad shoulder. They would both do nicely with a warm cup of the good stuff in Gwydion's chambers. Then maybe she could ask about the intent behind her trespass.

Adelle opened her eyes to a brightly lit room, filled with greenery, sunlight coming in from the top of the chamber. It was so... warm. She smiled for a moment, content and warm, before feeling the bandages upon her face and stomach.

"Where... Where am I?" Adelle wasn't really expecting an answer, but she heard a calm, regal voice echo in her head.

"You are safe, child of... No? How very... interesting..." Looking up, Adelle saw a massive, silvery dragon, looking down upon her with piercing, yet gentle, red eyes. He seemed almost to take up the whole chamber, and yet he did not feel imposing. The weariness in his voice softened his aura considerably. Her mouth agape, she patted herself along her upper and lower back, wanting to ensure her wings were still hidden. After reassuring herself she would have felt herself revert to her true form, she turned her gaze back to the dragon. "Are you a..."

Martha, piping up from beside the massive beast, let out a quick laugh. "A dragon? Why yes, he is. This is Master Gwydion, and I am his guardian and caretaker, Martha." The brunette smiled, and despite the protective aura seemingly emitting off her, it was a kind and sincere one. But there was an edge to her voice as she continued, "You are trespassing on sacred ground. None are permitted here, in order to keep Master Gwydion, Lord of Dragons, Lord of Rhimedhal safe. State your business, or I'm afraid my act of bandaging your wounds may go to waste."

So it was Martha that bandaged these... Adelle idly traced her fingers along a particularly long stretch of red on her bandaged torso. She must have got cut up worse than she had thought from that ice. "I thought dragons were supposed to be creatures of myths to-" she caught herself. She did not want to find out if humans still carried murderous intent towards her kind. She had heard they would lie, cheat, betray and attack. But this one had bandaged her wounds...? "I thought dragons were supposed to be creatures of myth."

Gwydion's laughter rang through the chamber. There was no malice in it; it was a laugh like that of one who has reconnected with a long lost friend. "I am not the only one here who could claim connection to myth! But, I shall keep this secret for the time being."

Shit, Adelle thought, he's onto me. But at least... she turned her head to look at the woman beside the massive dragon. She definitely appeared to be human. The village fairies had told her that humans had "genders"; "males" were broad and deep of voice, "females" supposedly higher and... Well, there were many differences purported between the two. Adelle observed Martha's strong arms, her tender grip on her spear, the sparkle in her eyes. She couldn't see anything that would help her confirm or deny the accounts of the village fairies. "Men" were "he", "women" were "she"... Maybe asking along those lines would help her keep things straight for maintaining cover.

"Martha?" The brunette looked deep into Adelle, unblinking pools of emerald green. There was caution given towards the fairy in disguise, although she of course had no reason to believe Adelle was anything other than human. Rather, she suspected her motives for coming here. Perhaps there may be something she could do to-

"Martha!"

Martha snapped out of her brainstorming of ways to prove good or ill will for a moment. Her gaze had been returned this whole time.

"Yes?" She asked Adelle through her teeth. Surely no one would come to kill the Lord of Dragons without so much as a winter coat, right? But that brings up the question of what kind of person could make it this far into the Rhimedhal region without freezing to death or prepping properly. The girl's fortitude was certainly-

"Are you-" Adelle caught herself. She needed to phrase this in a way that wouldn't make her look like someone who doesn't know what a "woman" is. "What are your pronouns?"

Martha took a moment to process this. Just what kind of girl gets all cut up in the ice and wind, collapses on sacred and forbidden ground, gets brought to see a dragon, a DRAGON, a deity on earth, and takes the time to ask someone's pronouns before addressing any of the above! Was she trying to strike a nerve? Had she simply forgotten to shave? Martha knew the Dragoon outfit might make her look like a tryhard, some had gone so far as to whisper she was a... a... there were some rather unkind statements going around about her appearance since she'd been dressed in Dragoon, but she was a priest! ....a priest... Right. And should priests not assume sincerity until proven otherwise?

Martha took a breath, then let out a long, slow exhale. "I appreciate your consideration in not assuming. It's quite... modern of you. But, as I've drilled into the townsfolks' heads already, I am a woman. She/her is fine... What about yours? And your name? I can hardly dance around saying it forever."

Adelle was no better off than she had been before. She knew fairies couldn't tell men and women apart, but had she commited a faux pas? Maybe humans and gender weren't so straightforward as the texts implied. Gender was certainly seeming more and more to be more trouble than it was worth. She looked herself over, then at Martha. They both had similar figures, would it be a mistake to use she/her as well? Fairies had "Queens", and "Ladies", which texts about humans her sister Edna had shown her seemed to line up with she/her. She'd planned to go by that set since she set out, but seeing a human be so testy about it was giving her second thoughts.

"My name is Adelle. I am... also a woman. She/her is what I use as well." Phew. Nailed it. Martha's face had softened, and her cover wasn't blown.

Martha was perplexed. Something about Adelle's response gave her pause, but she was at least glad that she hadn't been incorrectly assuming. Those who live in Dragon's Grotto should not throw stones.

"So, Adelle... What business leaves one so woefully unprepared for the cold as yourself frozen half to death on the Lord of Dragon's doorstep? Why didn't you go to town first, or button up?"

There it was. Her first test of her cover story. Heavens only knew how the human would react if she found out Adelle was a fairy.

"I'm... A travelling mercenary. I'm looking for my sister, Edna. She ran off from our hometown, and stole some... very important town heirlooms. Leaving town is not something one normally does, but I needed to track her down. I need answers."

That should be good enough for Martha, right? Adelle stared intently at her, just waiting to see how she took the bait. She hated lying, but... There was a lot more in her future. She would just have to suck it up. She noticed the light shift as she looked over Martha, the twinkle gleaming off her armor, the tail protruding from her back that swayed as she shifted her weight from one leg to the other, the tone to her voice that reminded her of the wind through holes in trees, or water running down the river, the way her emerald eyes looked like the bottom of her favorite crystal clear, mossy lake. She looked so much... prettier, than she expected humans to be. Humans were supposed to be scary, and while this one had indeed made implications of a threat, she had not attacked. She had even bandaged Adelle's wounds...

"Adelle, are you listening?" Adelle snapped out of her trance. "What, Martha? I just responded, d-didn't I?"

Martha shook her head, her long brown hair falling in front of her face, obscuring a soft grin. "I said, what hometown would leave you unprepared for the cold? You could have frozen to death."

"We're... An isolationist town. Not on any map. We stay in one place, so I was not expecting the cold to be so... Penetrating. Reading about it is different than the real thing.

"What do you mean, reading about it? Have you never seen snow before?"

"No, I'd only ever read about it."

Martha's heart sank for the poor girl. The snow and cold were bitter, and deadly if not respected, but to live a life without snow... Without seeing the mountains in spring, as the snow atop the permafrost melts and feeds small rivers... It simply would not do.

"That settles it. As soon as this blizzard ends, I need you to do me a favor."

Adelle hesitated. She really needed to get back to finding her sister. There's no telling what could go wrong if she couldn't track down the asterisks. Though, Martha's outfit seemed familiar somehow...

"I need you to go east, and collect some herbs for Master Gwydion. His health is fading, and these herbs can extend his time left on this plane. But if you bring them back, we will each bestow upon you a favor.

Gwydion spoke, softly but firmly: "I believe I know the service you wish me to provide, Martha. I can provide it. Adelle, if you can bring me these herbs, I will have enough strength left in me to scout for the potential whereabouts of your sister. There are some familiar feelings your presence brings that reminds me of Martha. I'm certain your sister will provide that same trace."

Martha was unsure of the "energy" her Master was talking about, but she did feel an attachment to Adelle. She was quite pretty, yes, but it was more than that. Her asterisk... Adelle and the Dragoon asterisk both gave Martha a sense of.... she.... she couldn't find the words for it. She had guarded Gwydion for years, for juuuuust under a couple decades, even, but the Asterisk was a recent acquisition. The Archbishop had given it to her just a half year ago, and it had given her a sense of self that mere satisfaction with one's purpose could not.

"Master Gwydion is correct, for the part I know he can provide. But I have something to provide as well. If you retrieve the herbs we need, I will show you a beautiful sight. You must see the snow from the way I can see it."

Adelle was confused. The way she could see it?

"And until the blizzard dies down... I hope you don't mind me offering, well, your own offering, but i rummaged through your tent before bringing you in here, and well... I saw you brought firewine."

Damn it! Adelle cursed herself. She knew she should've remembered to take a swig before passing out. No wonder she looked and felt so cold. Not to understate how cold it was outside, but firewine definitely would've helped warm her up inside the cave.

"Would it be alright if we shared a bottle? I see you've definitely stocked your supplies before this journey, oh ho ho!" Martha winked as she said this, to indicate the teasing nature. She... Some part of her wished to extend goodwill towards this trespasser. She had not yet made a move of hostility to Gwydion, nor his son sleeping near his tail, and she was, frankly, dying for company. Tending to the dragons was her life's work, and she would not trade it for the world, but living on sacred ground was terribly stifling to one's social life. The pleasures of the flesh, such as fine food, wine, even the touch of another human's hand on hers... She missed them. If only she knew Adelle wasn't a human, ah?

Adelle's stomach rumbled. She was cold, but no longer freezing. The innermost chamber of the cave was warm enough to support plants, but the chill from her stint outside had yet to fully leave her. She dreaded to think of what she might let slip after partaking, buuuuuut.... It was good to get some practice in. If she really planned on getting work to support her sister-hunt, she would need to get as much practice in with humans as possible.

"What the hell, sure. To a hopefully well spent winter?"

"To a winter well spent, indeed." Martha began to pour them each a glass, and they began to dine. There was fresh meat, berries, fruit, and edible flowers (Martha understood the meat, but wondered how anything else could be this fresh at this time of year). A few glasses in, they both loosened their tongues some. Martha told of the years spent training for the role of Guardian from a young age, and Adelle came up with fantastical stories about the escapades of her and her best friend from Mag Mell... She of course left out any identifying details of fairy status, or names. Flight stories were out as well. Humans walked everywhere. It was slow and exhausting. They dranks and sang, ate, partook in games, danced... and danced, and danced, and danced. There was something about their eyes meeting, the tipsy laughs they shared... Adelle thought that maybe humans aren't as scary as they were led to believe. She knew her sister loved humans, and she could see why. Spinning Martha around until she got dizzy was a real hoot. But when the night was done, they did not retire to bed, so much as fall down one after the other, asleep. Gwylim tried to wrest at least Martha to her usual patch of moss, but they had collapsed over one another and were snoring soundly. Surely, if Martha had reservations about Adelle, they would be gone on the morrow.

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the-cookies-of-darkness · 2 years

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Chinook: *does another deep breath making sure the ice is cold and hard* lets hurry!

Frostbite nodded "Keep them busy? I'll keep them busy. HEY! Do you want to know about my artifact collection? There's some really powerful stuff that you won't see anywhere else! One of which even started an apocalypse throughout Earthbread!"

#cookie run #frostbite dragon: the ice dragon with a warm heart #other people's ocs

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voidbears-oc-stash · 5 months

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*it scans the bones! and text and graphs appear on the screen! and insane amounts of math!* Ultra: hmm- crash bandicoot: mind over mutant timeline, negative variant id! AND HOLY COW! THESE READINGS! thats! NOT GOOD! HOW IS THAT, THIS HIGH!? these negative energy readings ARE OFF THE SCALE! the only THING ever MATCHING this is XASTER! yet- this are VERY clearly, more CONCENTRATED! higher! a good AMOUNT! but not MIND NUMBINGLY! but! its like its more STABILIZED! less RAW more! REFINED! see these readings? not jumping AROUND? Xaster's would usually stay within a range, but constantly move WITHIN that range! but these ARE consistent highs ABOVE that range! even tho its slightly! and just the readings EVERYWHERE! in there! its SATURATED with dark energy! and it KEEPS going UP!

"Well in the game they literally milk dark mojo out of UkaUka and force feed him cake. It could be because of the fact that he makes dark mojo?" Frostbite questions

#jax #oc roleplay #frostbite dragon: the ice dragon with a warm heart

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primordialpaper · 4 years

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Gray and Wendy brotp

“Considering the amount of blood lost, Lockser’s fortunate Wendy got to her when she did. As it stands, though, I see no reason why she wouldn’t make a full recovery.”

“And Gray?”

“Hmph... He could do with a lecture on how foolish it is to ice over his wounds instead of receiving proper treatment, but he ought to be fine as well.”

Gray’s focus on Porlyusica and Evergreen’s whispered discussion didn’t hold much further past the words “full recovery”.

The nightmare world he’d been living in less than an hour ago, the crushing weight of his grief, dispelled by a girl who’s head barely reached his chest...

Gray doubted Wendy fully understood the gravity- the depth- of what she had done.

It was understandable, he supposed. She hadn’t been with them when the matter had first come to light, back on Galuna Island, and he’d never seen fit to bring it up with her once she’d joined. No sense filling her young head with tales of his losses. Not when she had enough of her own to deal with.

Still, the warm, living body lying beside him, light blue tresses fanned out delicately on the ground as Porlyusica tutted and hemmed over the state of their injuries was like a fantasy. She was still here. He’d thought that she had died, like Ur, offered up her blood like Ultear had her youth, for him. That he was alive only at the cost of yet another person’s sacrifice.

Wendy had spared him from that fate.

It occurred to him, as his consciousness faded, that while he hadn’t been once more saddled with a life-debt he could never pay back, he wasn’t sure if he’d ever be able to thank her properly.

Gray leaned more than a bit against Juvia, watching as their errant Dragon Slayers embraced close friends and teammates, the sun shimmering off the crystalline orb that was Acnologia’s final resting place. When but an hour ago their world looked as if it was ending, it now seemed to release a breath of relief. They had won.

The collective mages’ ecstatic murmuring and cheers of victory were shattered by a cry of pain.

Gray’s head whipped around just in time to see a shock of deep blue hair flutter to the ground.

“Wendy!”

He was hardly the only person to cry out at the sight. The pink haired girl, Chelia, he recalled, dropped to her knees beside Wendy, big blue eyes wide with worry as she surveyed the blood soaked state of the bandages wrapped around her thigh. Gray had noticed the injury back when they’d first reclaimed the Port, but Wendy had paid it little mind, dutifully healing Erza while they all waited anxiously. It was with a sickening jolt that he realized, now hours later, that her upper thigh had been pierced clean through.

Forget fighting- She had walked on that leg?!

Dimly, he remembered her doing just that, while supporting Juvia no less. The pair of them drawing closer to him, smiling. It had been the last thing he saw before losing consciousness.

No words needed to be exchanged for him and Juvia to rush over together.

“-this close to the femoral artery, no wonder it’s hemorrhaging.” Chelia was muttering under her breath, small, pale hands pressing sodden bandages against the entry and exit wounds. There was hardly any white left to be seen on the wrappings.

“It’s ok- I’m... I’m ok,” inconceivably, Wendy was weakly muttering reassurances, even while she seemed unable to sit up from where she laid on the pavement. Stifling what might’ve been a whimper, Juvia shuffled forward on her knees, and carefully guided Wendy’s upper body to lay on her lap. She breathed whispers Gray couldn’t catch into the crown of her head, gently brushing errant strands of midnight blue off Wendy’s face.

“Can I- is there a way I can help?” Gray felt a prick of shame at relying on a 15 year old for guidance, but this girl was a healer, and he’d long ago learned their word was law when it came to treating injuries. Though, she wasn’t using any healing magic now... Had she exhausted herself in all the fighting?

Before this train of thought could go any further, Chelia’s eyes snapped up to him. He saw them flicker with recognition, and she asked briskly, “You have Ice Magic, right?”

He nodded mutely.

“Put your hands where mine are and apply pressure.” hesitating for only an instant, Gray cupped both sides of the wound just as Chelia slipped her hands free. The warm, tacky feeling of blood coated his palms, and Wendy’s leg jumped under his much larger hands, but he held fast.

“Blood vessels constrict under colder temperatures.” Chelia’s gaze bored into him. Gray was aware of the growing commotion around them as more people noticed the state Wendy was in, but he didn’t dare look away from the pair of cobalt eyes that demanded his attention. They were almost the same color as Wendy’s hair. “In order to stop the bleeding, you need to emit enough cold to slow the blood flow and encourage clotting, without lowering the temperature too much and causing tissue damage. Can you do that?”

“Yes.” Gray was calling frost to his hands before the words even left his mouth. His own body barely felt the cold anymore, but he still remembered Ur’s dire warnings about what temperatures were dangerous for the average human, and how long one could withstand them before frostbite and necrosis set it. As long as things stayed above forty degrees, he could maintain this for close to an hour before it became hazardous for Wendy.

Wendy gave a hoarse noise of discomfort at the sudden cold, but she seemed to be fighting to stay conscious, eyelids fluttering as her head tilted to and fro. At this close proximity, Gray took note of another wound- a nasty gash- on her right side. It wasn’t bleeding terribly like the wound on her leg, but it looked particularly savage, like it’d been made by talons rather than a blade.

Just what had this war put Wendy through?

“Move! Get out of my way, you fools!”

Never before had Gray been so elated to hear the sharp, steely voice of Fairy Tail’s head Medical Advisor.

Like always, crowds hastened to disperse at Porlyusica’s command, and Gray soon found himself looking up at the gimlet-eyed medicine woman. With an efficiency that spoke of years of experience, Porlyusica knelt and began rummaging through the bag at her side. Without looking up, she gruffly intoned, “Fullbuster, keep that up. Lockser, prevent her from moving around too much. Blendy-” Gray thought he saw Chelia tense, like Porlyusica was about to say something dreadful. The crone herself actually paused, stilling for the briefest moment, before thrusting out a large roll of bandages to the pink-haired girl. “I’m occupied here, and with Wendy in this state, you’re the only other person with any idea how to treat the wounded. I need you to triage those gathered here, and guide whoever’s able in taking care of any injuries. I’ll address those you deem critical shortly. Got that?”

Chelia’s eyes glistened, and her gaze flickered to Wendy’s barely conscious face. Quick as a flash, she kissed her first two fingers, and then pressed them to the other girl’s cheek. Just as swiftly, she leapt to her feet, snatching the roll of bandages with a firm, “Yes, ma’am!” before bounding away to begin her task.

Porlyusica set to work just as quickly, packing some kind of salve onto a square of fabric, and instructing Gray to hold it against the exit wound while she prepared another pad for the entry wound, after which they would bind them in place. At one point, Wendy roused slightly, and she gazed blearily around. Her eyes fell on Porlyusica- specifically, her hair- and Gray’s heart clenched when they quickly filled with tears.

“Chelia... I’m sor-sorry... I’m so s-sorry...” Juvia attempted to shush her gently, but Wendy was inconsolable, weeping softly until exhaustion dragged her back under. When Porlyusica’s work was finally done, Gray retrieved his hands, before an instinct he couldn’t place urged him to fit one of Wendy’s small, limp hands in his own. His thumb traced comforting circles on the back of her hand as his gaze scanned the crowd of assembled mages, eventually falling on the small pink haired girl currently throwing caution to the wind and scolding Erza as she examined a wound on her shoulder.

While most everyone was alive and well- or at least on the way to well- and their enemies were bested, Gray got the distinct impression that their victory was not without sacrifice. It was simply a matter of what it was, and who had paid the price.

~~~~~~

Gray got his answer one week later, as he and Lyon shared a moment of respite from their work repairing the damage done to the Fairy Tail guildhall. The mages from Lamia Scale, Blue Pegasus, and Sabertooth had ruthlessly bowled over the Fairies’ protests, citing that the conflict with Alvarez had been a matter of countries rather than guilds, and took to clearing up Magnolia and the surrounding areas with zeal alongside their fellow Fioreans.

“Chelia can’t use magic anymore?” Gray had to make certain, on the off chance he’d heard Lyon wrong, even if he knew he likely hadn’t. His adoptive brother’s solemn head shake dashed those hopes quite efficiently.

“Ultear was very clear, from what I’ve heard. Unlocking her Third Origin permanently crippled the other two magic containers in her body. Biologically, it isn’t quite the same as if she was a non-mage, but there’s no known remedy for Origins that sustained such damage.” a shadow passed over Lyon’s face, and fist trembled faintly. “To think, the two youngest among us were fighting for their lives, for our lives, in the time it took us to blink.”

Gray ruminated on something he could say to that, with no success. Wendy and Chelia, for all their prodigious talent and combative skill, still evoked in their guildmates an innate urge to protect and shelter them. No matter how irrational it may be, it felt like a failure on their part when their younger companions were harmed. He remembered holding Wendy’s limp, listless body in the dungeons back in Edolas, feeling his stomach drop in that awful moment of panic when he failed to sense even an ounce of magic power within her, like she was... gone. Chelia wasn’t gone, but a piece of her...

“I’m honored to be her guildmate.”

Gray’s gaze snapped back to Lyon.

“It’s very likely that Chelia saved all of our lives, that day.” a fierce, blazing sort of pride overpowered any lingering guilt in his voice. “Against an enemy with such power over time, in the guise of a god, we wouldn’t have stood a chance. In her last act as a mage, Chelia achieved the greatest feat possible for a wielder of her magic; she struck down a god. We all lived to see tomorrow thanks to her devotion to protecting her comrades. To have someone capable of love like that, of strength like that, as a member of my guild... I’m grateful beyond words.”

Tactfully, Gray turned away in order to let Lyon compose himself, not at all because his own eyes grew misty.

Through the small crowd of mages shuffling about, he spotted Wendy, who was sitting beneath an awning alongside Gajeel. She had been expressly forbidden from taking part in any physical labor, owing to the state of her still-healing leg, much to her ire. It had taken almost two days worth of arguing before she was allowed to cast Enchantments on those working to help lighten the load. Natsu and Gajeel, for once, worked together seamlessly as they took it upon themselves to ensure she didn’t strain herself.

Currently, Gajeel seemed to be listening readily as she spoke quietly, his perpetually stern expression giving nothing away. Wendy’s face was obscured due to both the angle and her long, hanging hair, but Gray could see the tension in the way she wrung the fabric of her skirt.

“I don’t think Wendy sees it that way.”

Wendy’s harshest critic had always been herself. When they’d first met, during their duel for Nirvana against the Oracion Seis, her propensity for self-flagellation had been severe enough that she almost became a liability. While Gray liked to think that her time with Fairy Tail and their unconditional, constant support had softened the tone she took with herself, he knew how easy it was to lapse back into old habits.

Whatever else had transpired in the battle with Dimaria, Chelia’s sacrifice was bound to be weighing heavily on the young Enchantress.

“Chelia feels the same.” Lyon’s reverent tone became more somber. “Wendy won’t press the issue with her out of respect, but Chelia’s certain she blames herself for what happened.” faintly, Gray could feel the uncanny coldness- a trait he no doubt shared- when Lyon’s hand came to rest on his shoulder. The icy pressure was welcome; bracing and invigorating. “For Chelia’s sake, and my own- for Wendy’s- keep an eye on her. We’re both familiar with what regret and self-reproach can do to a person.”

Gray thought back to a warped moon, streaming out baleful indigo light... the gentle, heart wrenching strum of a harp... the slick dapple of blood on his brow...

It had been one of the hardest things he’d ever done, accepting Ur’s sacrifice as a gift born out of her love for him. No matter how unworthy he felt, how desperately he wished he could change what had happened, it would have been the height of disrespect to disregard his teacher’s final act. She wanted him to live, without his darkness- his hatred and despair- as weights upon his soul. He didn’t dare fail to abide by that request.

“I don’t want that for her.” Gray didn’t want that for anyone. But the idea of his young teammate- the endlessly kind, selfless, fiercely caring girl he’d come to know- quietly suffocating under that guilt and loathing... it was unthinkable. “I won’t let that happen.”

He might not be able to chase wounds and pain away with a touch like Wendy, but his hands had crafted works of ice unlike any Maker mage before.

He’d be damned if they couldn’t hold his friend together as she threatened to fall apart.

#primordial post #fairy tail #gray fullbuster #wendy marvell #my writing

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movedkagen · 4 years

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i’m never going to let him hurt you again. / dabi 4 rei <3

i. some say the world will end in fire.

hers did . hers ended in the fire of another man’s eyes --- the fire of ambition. the fire of pride. the fire of rage. some would say his eyes were cold , but not to rei ------ it was a fire that was more than a passionate flame , but a calamity that threatened to burn them all . how she feared it ; how she’d come to shrink away from it , to tearfully protect the gentle snowfall in her chest , terrified he’d burn her up until there was nothing left .

ii. some say in ice. hers did . it ended with the pain of frostbite spreading across the expanse of her skin , reminding her that the cold stung as much as the heat . which temperature hurt more ? the fire in his eyes or the coldness of his heart ? the heat of her baby’s tears against her skin or the cold of his own , when the coroner pronounced him gone ? which hurt more ?

iii. from what i’ve tasted of desire , i hold with those who favor fire .

fire . fire . how she’d come to hate fire . how she’d come to see the lick of flames as dragons breath , how she’d come to see the color red as nothing but anger and blood and that wretched fire that had taken everything she’d ever loved and ever been before she’d been reduced to nothing but ash . sure fire was the worst of the elements , the most despicable of the two temperatures . it was the flame of victory that had tantalized her husband into bringing her defeat , into sacrificing herself and her children to be steps that would carry him to such a torch .

iv. but if it had to perish twice , i think i know enough of hate to say that for destruction , ice is also great and would suffice . i’ll never let him hurt you again . --- words no mother dreams of hearing . no , how could she hate fire if it stood before her and promised such things ? how could she hate the heat that animated him , brought him to her doorstep and into her arms ? no , darling . i could never hate you . as she holds the fire , she begins to feel the sting of frostbite spreading across her body again .

he’s too hot . she needs to cool him down . / she’s too cold . he needs to warm her up .

rei had forgotten that fire wasn’t just destruction , but life . that she holds a life whose embers flicker in her very arms , who she would give and give and give for until there was nothing left if it meant he could stay alive, if she could hold him like this . she doesn’t burn --- oh , how she melts for him . her precious son . her son .

❛ it doesn’t hurt , ❜ she promises , and it’s the truth . what a fool endeavor was , calling them broken . was there any better symbiosis than these four hands , heating and cooling and burning them both in a cycle of hot and cold if only to protect the other ? rei , he says , you have to let me go . she thinks it’s because of his heat . she thinks it’s because he’s known , he’s always known that she’s hated the fire . but how could she hate his ? what wouldn’t i give for you , my love ? how could anything hurt with touya here ? she could laugh . she could sing .

rough are the hands that try to pull him from her arms , and in a surprising burst of strength , rei yanks him to her chest . ❛ no . ❜ she snaps , frost spreading faster around her skin . mom , she hears him say , and for a moment she can hear nothing else .

i won’t let them take you , baby . i won’t let them hurt you , either . that’s right , she thinks . it’s me . . . your mom .

you have to let me go .

❛ —— no . ❜ it’s said with an air more final than anything rei’s ever said in her life . hands reach for touya , and she doesn’t think ------ she bites . ❛ NO ! ❜ hands find her shoulders , and rei strains against them , frost spreading from her shoulders to the hands around her as she’s yanked off of him , and she thrashes . she’s kicking , shrieking , covered in ice that hurts her down to the bone and spreads with every inch they drag her away . ❛ don’t touch him , you’re hurting him . where are you taking him ?! ❜

they pull and she swears she sees him bleed ------ there it is . the red she hates . ❛ i want my baby. ❜ they yank her back towards her room and rei screams . ear - splitting , glass shattering is her grief . ten years . it’s been ten years since she’s screamed this way , and it echoes through the halls , scares the birds just outside the open door . ❛ —— I WANT MY BABY . ❜

there is no scream like that of a mother that’s lost her child . none except the scream of one who’s lost the same child twice . she’s hysterical . screaming , crying , kicking , biting , ignorant to the way the entire room is beginning to encase in ice . ❛ touya —— touya , i’m sorry , i’m so sorry ------ where are you taking him ?! where are you taking my baby ?! i want my baby ! ❜

the medicine in the syringe they’ve prepared for her freezes and shatters it , glass and needles on the floor . so painful is the frost that they drop her and she hits the ground , and though she can barely move , she scrambles to the door they’ve dragged him through , throws the whole of her body against it though it’s frozen shut . she screams again , and the frost starts shifting into angry spikes , ripping through the floors and ceilings .

‘ but if it had to perish twice , i think i know enough of hate to say that for destruction , ice is also great and would suffice . ’

#bnha spoilers /#ask to tag /#crtlz #long post /

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xxpadfootxx · 4 years

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🐾Night Terrors & New Beginnings - Part 12 (Closer Still)🐾

That night, the forest seemingly turned to ice, the wind howling amongst the trees and burning Izuku’s skin like freezing fire and the darkness of the night creating a suffocating feeling in that valley, as the trees were too clumped together to allow much moonlight to filter through their branches. Izuku had brought nothing but the clothes on his back for this trip, not expecting to have to stay outside for hours, which at the moment seemed like nothing more than two pieces of paper taped to his body. The wind ripped through his clothes as if they were not even there and clawed at his body like a savage animal. Izuku could not believe that a place could be this cold in the middle of August but the burn of the icy wind was very real, forcing him to clutch his own body for warmth. He glanced over to where Dakota was laying, her thick scales protecting her from the cold of the wind so that she was able to comfortably lay down on the ground at the far end of the valley where she had burned a small circular spot on the ground for herself. He had been trying the make contact with her all day but something about when she is in her dragon form made her turn aggressive and fearful, always running from him or snapping her jaws at him menacingly.

Izuku let out a shivery breath and pulled himself slowly to his knees so that he could drag himself to the base of a small lone tree in the center of the valley floor. He pressed his back up against it and huddled on the spot, pulling his knees as close as possible to his body for warmth. Suddenly, as he sat there, hoping but not believing that sleep would overtake him so that he could find some form of warmth in the morning, a fat raindrop landed on his nose. His eyes widened in shock but soon changed as his face contorted painfully. Rain was not going to warm things up and he didn’t know how much colder his body would allow him to get. Despite his frustrations, the rain began to come splattering down anyway until it was pouring in the small, cold valley. Izuku could barely think in the cold, his body almost frozen in place and his eyes closed in pain. His whole body was wet and his clothes stuck to his body, clinging to him so that even if the rain were to stop he would remain drenched.

Dakota seemingly ignored the rain. She did not move from her spot curled up under a larger thicket of trees and her eyes remained tightly closed but really, she was having a terrible argument with herself. She whined slightly as she considered whether or not she should move to help Izuku or not, wanting to help him after everything he had done for her, but also feeling too afraid, he was a human after all. She knew it was absurd to treat him this way, especially after everything they had been through together, but in her dog form, she could forget that she was the most wanted dragon on the planet. She could forget that she was supposedly the last of her kind. She could forget about having to hide all the damn time. But now that she was in her dragon form, she was reminded clearly of what she was, what kind of a danger she brought to those around her. She growled to herself and squeezed her eyes even tighter as she tried to ignore all thoughts about the boy behind her. All she wanted to do was sleep.

Izuku glanced over at Dakota once but knew there was no point in trying to reconcile with her in these conditions. The icy rain bit into his flesh and sank its fangs even deeper into him with every passing moment. He hugged himself tighter and considered the possibility of frostbite or hypothermia in this weather. His mind wandered as he suffered through the cold, running through questions about why Haruka had left them stranded here, if she was even to be trusted in the first place, and how to get closer to Dakota, but his brain was just left exhausted and confused after he had mulled over possible solutions for a while. Izuku could not stop shaking. His whole body was numb and on fire at the same time. He could not remember being this cold and miserable in his life. He thought back to his warm, comfy bed with a warm meal from his mother. His stomach growled at the thought and Izuku had to bite his tongue to keep from groaning in longing. Uncurling his legs to try to get rid of the strange tingling feeling that was now running up and down the backs of his calves, Izuku rolled over and tried to make himself comfortable on the rain-soaked forest floor. He felt his hair mat to the side of his head as rested it on the soggy ground but he was starting to lose his grip on common sense, his mind only focused on the terrible freezing rainwater that dragged its claws down his back and tore at his ears and hands. Izuku squeezed his eyes shut and desperately tried to sleep, hoping that then, the pain would go away.

Izuku yelped aloud when he felt something actually nip the base of his neck. The thing that had bitten him continued to hold on very gently to the flesh on the back on his neck but paused at his alarmed cry. After a moment passed, Izuku felt his body start to be dragged backward a little. He thought about fighting it, but his muscles felt stiff and paralyzed to the point that he just let himself be dragged through the mud. The thing dragged him for a short distance before dropping him. Normally, he would’ve used this as a chance to escape his captor, but he could’ve sworn that the rain had frozen his bones. He groaned and tried to move anyway, pain shooting throughout his body as his muscles ached at the action. Suddenly, a warm caress ran itself down his mind. Izuku jolted on the spot but relaxed immediately afterward, recognizing the tendril of warmth that wove its way through his consciousness, comforting him. She had come back. Izuku managed to turn himself around to see her large silhouette looming above him. Dakota watched him for a moment longer before completely making up her mind.

Reaching down, Dakota grasped the back of his shirt in her teeth and lifted Izuku completely off the ground. In the back of his mind, Izuku was a little afraid that the shirt would rip but it remained intact as she lifted him. When she set him back on the ground, although he had expected to feel the soggy forest floor once more, he felt a firm, warm surface underneath him instead. Izuku looked down to see a large, black leathery surface, and felt his heart leap into his throat with the realization that he was sitting on her wing. He looked up to see Dakota watching him with her teeth slightly bared, daring him to do anything stupid. Dakota then resituated herself down on the soaked, muddy ground and used her second wing to wrap around Izuku’s frozen body, the surprisingly smooth scales protecting him from the blasting wind outside. Izuku sat there, stunned, unsure of what to do when a large black paw reached out and dragged him to her belly so that his back was pressed up against her. Izuku was unsure if he was dreaming or not, that is, until he felt a sudden warmth erupt along his back. His whole body rolled around to look behind him to find a little bit of steam coming off of her belly. Izuku gingerly held up a hand to her stomach and felt the waves of heat rolling off the surface of her scales. She was creating heat with her fire breath in her stomach, for him. Izuku felt tears well up in his eyes and he wiped them away quickly before settling himself between her paws to lean against her back. Izuku heard a small movement outside and knew it was her tail curling around her body in a neat little ball, as if to protect him further. Izuku felt more tears prick at his eyes despite his efforts to hold them back. Suddenly deciding to be bold, Izuku reached out and grasped one of her paws in his hands, holding it close to his chest. He felt her breath hitch and he was tempted to throw her paw away from him and apologize but he held onto her, gently but firmly.

“Thank you. I understand why you are so skittish in your dragon form. I know how much this means to you, helping me out despite your instincts screaming at you to just kill me and get as far away as possible. Thank you, for everything,” Izuku tightened his grip just barely as he spoke, trying to show his appreciation through both his words and his actions. Dakota froze for a second but eventually relaxed, slowly, and he felt another gentle caress in his mind.

“Dakota?” Izuku asked aloud after a short while of silence. He did not expect a response but he thought he might as well try to get to know her a little, at least since she was willing to let him be this close to her at the moment.

“...Yes…?” Dakota answered after almost a full minute of tense silence. The voice echoed in his mind. Izuku knew that she had not actually said anything aloud, but to him, it sounded as she was speaking right into his ear. He shivered at the sound of her sweet voice.

“Are you cold?”

“...Yes…”

“Then why shield me with your body?”

“Because there is no point in both of us being cold, that’s illogical,” Dakota said.

“But why use your body? Why not dig me a hole in the ground, or cover me with tree branches?”

Dakota hesitated.

“Because you are not evil. Not like him,” She said in a voice that was barely even a whisper.

“Who? Who do you know that is evil?” Izuku asked.

“Do… d-do you trust me?” Dakota asked.

“Yes,” Izuku answered back without hesitation.

Dakota sighed, the sound vibrating Izuku’s entire body.

“Alright then, let me show you,” She growled. Izuku did not know what to do so he just remained still as he felt her warm caress once more. The warm tendril that connected them through their bond suddenly wrapped around his mind, spreading its warmth until Izuku had the urge to reach back. Izuku closed his eyes and used his own connection to the bond to reach out and intertwine with her connection. As soon as he reached out to her, her connection beckoned his over the bridge that formed their bond, tugging him along. Izuku felt warm and cold, tired and energetic, hungry and full. He was confused but kept following Dakota’s lead until they reached a looming black wall in her consciousness.

“What is this?” Izuku asked.

“Memories,” Dakota answered.

Without being asked, Izuku reached out with the bond and stroked the outside of the wall, searching for a way in. Suddenly, the wall cracked and broke down the center almost like a large pair of doors opening for him. Izuku sent the bond inside almost without thinking. Instantly, a barrage of images flooded his brain, flashing and dashing across his mind in a whirl of colors. The flash of images stopped after a second and paused on one. Izuku realized very quickly that what he was being shown was a specific memory.

The beautiful scene of a forest on the side of the mountain spread out before Izuku, revealing a warm sun that shined its rays down on the still dewy morning grass. The trees were almost entirely pines, but there were a few others that towered above him to reach for a crystal blue sky. A shift of movement in the corner of Izuku’s eye caused him to turn around to see what was obviously Dakota as a baby. She was so small back then and her body was almost entirely free of scars of injuries. Her wings looked silky to the touch and her blue eyes were sparkling with mischief. The baby Night Fury bounded through the undergrowth, her tail wagging as she pounced on various things with her oversized paws. She raised her head and barked out a little roar. Another Night Fury, one who was slightly smaller than Dakota with bright green eyes and a slightly lighter shade of black scales bounded out of the brush with a dead mouse in his teeth.

Izuku tilted his head as he observed the pair, the baby Dakota trotting over to her friend and wagging her tail in approval at his catch. The two baby dragons then moved to stand beside each other and started to walk away from the spot together, their bodies so close that their wings were almost touching. The scene dissolved and rebuilt itself in front of Izuku’s eyes so quickly that he had to shake his head to allow himself to readjust to the pacing. He stopped shaking his head and looked around once the scene had rebuilt itself. He felt the blood rush from his face as he was able to see the horror in front of him. Izuku saw a slightly older baby Dakota being held by the back of the neck by a large, heavily built man. The man was laughing as Dakota tried to bite and scratch at him, her roars of fear and anger getting weaker and weaker as the man jostled her around as if she were nothing more than a doll. The man finally stopped playing with her and threw Dakota into a cage that was about the size of a small cat kennel with three other baby Night Furies, including the one he had seen hanging out with her in the previous memory. Despite knowing that it was a memory, Izuku took a step forward, ready to take a stand against the man when he felt his boot slide in something. Izuku managed to catch himself but had to stop from vomiting once he saw what he had stepped in.

Lying on the ground was a Light Fury, and Izuku had just slipped in the blood that was pooling from its wounds. The dragon was obviously dead but Izuku still felt as if he needed to save it. He kneeled down and placed his hand on the dragon’s head. The dragon did nothing. Izuku looked up and around to find something, anything to use to help the long gone dragon when he felt his eyes widen in shock. Night Furies and Light Furies, all dead, were lying all over the once gorgeous mountainside forest. All of them were adults and upon further inspection, Izuku realized that all of the babies had been shoved into kennels and cages to be taken away while their parents had been slain where they stood.

Izuku clenched his fists and wanted so badly to get revenge on the men but stayed calm. This was a memory, he was only here to observe and store information.

“All done here boss! I think we got them all, that is every single Night Fury pup in this pack! We have scoured this forest over and over again and this looks to be the last of them,” the man who had been messing with Dakota earlier said, patting one of the kennels he had just loaded onto a huge cart.

“Very good…” a chilling, slightly familiar voice said coldly from the shadows.

Izuku could not suppress his cry of shock as a slightly younger Shigaraki stepped out from where he had been obscured from view.

“This is my destiny,” the memory Shigaraki said as he ran a bony finger down the bars of Dakota’s cage with a vicious smile plastered on his face. “You will bring me my victory against the heroes. My victory against all of them,” He cackled.

The memory dissipated completely just as Izuku was about to leap into action, and he found himself curled up on Dakota’s wing with his back pressed up against her belly. He woke with a start and found himself to be panting heavily. He looked around wildly as if expecting Shigaraki to come out of the shadows at any minute. Finally, he got himself pulled together a little.

“That wasn’t a dream was it?”

The rain had stopped and Dakota had raised her wing slightly so that she could look at him. She blinked once and shook her head twice.

“I thought not… is that why you hate humans so much?”

Dakota dipped her head once.

“I’m so, so sorry…” Izuku said, unsure of what to say after the emotional rollercoaster he had just experienced. He knew there was more to the story but for now he was grateful for her trust in him to show him this far while also a little thankful that that was all she had decided to show him. He wasn’t sure if he was ready to handle the full truth of her past if that had just been the beginning of it.

Dakota watched him, her blue eyes gleaming at him with something he couldn’t read.

“Goodnight Dakota,” Izuku said after a moment of silence, his mind turning up blank with more things to say. Dakota half purred, half growled at him and closed her wing once more, turning her head so that she could rest for the night. It took Izuku a long time to fall asleep that night, and when he finally did, he dreamt of laughing dragon hunters and dead dragons.

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multifandomimagin3s · 5 years

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Babies - Mortal Kombat Preference

Johnny Cage

Johnny didn’t really know how Cassie would react when she found out you were expecting a baby – his baby. He knew his daughter had always hoped that her parents would get back together, like they were when she was little, but seemed to slowly warm up to the prospect of her Dad re-marrying.

But as soon as she saw that little face, she – like everyone else who encountered the little one – were completely in love.

He may have cried a little – a lottle – when he held them for the first time, but will most likely deny that; “Nah, there was just - something in my eye.”

When it came to deciding baby names, he had his heart set on Johnny Jnr, for a boy. As for girl names, he was a lot more flexible.

Surprised you with a mini version of one of his ‘JC’ tracksuits. As nice as it was, there was no way that your kid would be wearing that…unless he dressed them (he put it on them one day when you were out, and you just didn’t have the heart to take it off.)

Spoils them immensely. As the daughter/son of a famous actor, companies jumped at the opportunity to send you free stuff – the living room was no longer habitable due to the sheer mass of freebies you’d accumulated.

Regardless of whether this is young!Johnny or older!Johnny, I can see him proudly carrying the little one in his arms, no matter who’s company he’s in, because hell yeah you guys made a cute baby!

But if anyone gets too close for his liking – whether that be the paparazzi, or someone more sinister – he’d quickly shield them away from prying eyes. He flat out refuses to divulge too much information to the press because the last thing he wants is for you to be bombarded.

Erron Black

Holy shit. Holy shit. It has literally just sunk in that he’s a Father, and he’s shook.

Can’t stop staring at their little, peaceful face. It’s clear who their parents are, even without having to take a second look – they have the perfect blend of your features mixed with his. They’re the most precious thing he’s ever seen.

Once they fall asleep in his arms, that’s him for the night. He’ll try not to move too much because he doesn’t want to want them up.

He’d make a solemn vow to be a good Dad. He didn’t have a good relationship with his parents and refuses to follow in their footsteps.

I think he’d be a lot more conscientious of the jobs he’d take; he must think not only of himself and you, but also of little Black-(Y/L/N). He would try not to stray too far from you both if anything should happen. If you don’t know how to defend yourself already, he’d insist that you learn – he’d probably teach you himself.

He’s not too fussed about names, providing it’s not a name he deems ‘stupid.’

He struggles to be soft – doesn’t do baby talk, since it makes him feel stupid, but he’ll have a much softer tone to his words. That paired with his accent makes your heart melt, and your baby clearly loves it too (who wouldn’t.)

The Black Dragon will never know of his child’s existence. Ever. He’ll be damned if they get dragged into that shitshow. Kano will never meet them, nor will any other member of the gang.

His guns are either kept on him, or out of reach, for obvious reasons. When they’re old enough he’ll teach them how to shoot, but until then – no touchy.

Kabal

The world around him seems to screech to a halt , as soon as he sees that little face poking out from the blankets. It’s as if everything has come to a standstill, and there’s only you, the baby and himself in the world.

When they grab his finger in their tiny hand his heart just melts. When they coo at him, his eyes go all misty and soft and it’s adorable.

Insists that their name begin with a ‘K’ to mirror his own.

Like Erron, he’d make sure that Kano the Piss Goblin will never know that the baby exists. Whether that means he’ll have to leave the Black Dragon, potentially having to change his name as well as taking you and the baby as far away from them as possible – he’d do it in a heartbeat.

I think he’s a man who loves his Mom dearly, so of course he’d want her to see her Grandchild. She’s just as taken with them as he is and pulls you both into a congratulatory hug. She probably will knit them stuff such as baby socks, or little blankies with their name on it, which never cease to warm your heart.

He loves it when they fall asleep on his chest. There is nothing in this world that he loves more than having you tucked into his side with your little baby sprawled out across his chest, snoring away.

Even though they probably can’t grasp concepts other than food and who their parents are, he’ll watch movies with them, pointing out the good ones and the bad ones. He won’t even subject them to the Ninja Mime franchise, but just shows them the DVD cases like “These are the ones that Daddy hates, when you get older you’ll understand why…”

Pre-Burn or Post-Burn, he’d love them unconditionally. Post-Burn would be anxious that his mask and or appearance would scare them, but when they smile their gummy smile at him all that worry just dissolves.

Hanzo Hasashi

This isn’t his first rodeo, so he’s very helpful during labour. There’s something sadly reminiscent of his previous experience which means he might need to talk a walk during, but he’s there for you.

Tries not to cry when he sees the baby – fails miserably.

Holds them to his chest, pressing soft kisses to their fuzzy head, whispering in his native tongue. You don’t really know what he’s saying but judging by the misty look in his eyes and how much love is pouring out of him, it was clearly something beautiful.

To him, this is the promise of a fresh start. He’ll not let history repeat itself and will protect both you and his child to the ends of the Earth.

Their baby clothes are mostly the typical colours – cream, mixed with shades of baby blue and or pink. However, Shirai Ryu colours will slowly mix in with this, but you don’t mind that much – the little yellow baby-grow is gorgeous.

The only people who know of the baby’s existence are yourself (obviously), Kuai, Takeda, Jacqui and Cassie – Johnny knows too but only because Cassie told him.

Tries to be the strict parent but he’s a softie at heart. Unless they do something outlandish, there is virtually no discipline in the house.

If their first word is ‘Dada’, he’ll be in awe. Grandmaster Grumpy Face has a heart but only for the select few.

Kuai Liang

He’s composed on the outside, screaming on the inside. It’s a good thing that Hanzo happened to be around when you went into labour, otherwise he would be essentially lost.

He sits outside the waiting room with Bi-Han and Hanzo, trying to not panic at the sounds of your pain – he got sent out by the nurse because he looked ready to pass out, the poor soul.

Rushes through the door as soon as he hears the baby cry.

Holds them in his arms – he can’t stop looking at them, they’re so perfect. Bi-Han claps him on the back, congratulating his brother, as well as you. Hanzo looks over you and Kuai with a look that’s reminiscent and vaguely emotional.

Doesn’t want everyone to know about the newest addition to your family. Hanzo and Bi-Han are the first to know since they were there, but other than that there are few who know.

Has no problem with doing the late-night/early-morning feeds. As Grandmaster, he’s up early every morning, so this doesn’t change his routine much; plus, it lets you sleep more so win-win.

His cool body-temperature is calming for the little one – Cryomancy genetics and all that jazz – so more often than not, they’ll crash out in his arms. These are the some of the moments he loves dearly, their little chubby face smushed against his shoulder, sleeping peacefully.

The embodiment of the ‘Don’t speak to me or my son again’ meme. Johnny has been warned on countless occasions that if he swears around the baby or tries to share his bad influence with them, he’ll get his ass kicked.

If the babies’ first word is either a curse word, or some variation of ‘Blueberry Ice’, Johnny’s getting frostbite.

Bi-Han

Everything needs to be in shades of blue – he put his foot down on that detail. The baby would most likely be a Cryomancer, so it’s important that they rep the Lin Kuei colours.

He’d probably be hoping for a son – ‘cause tradition and all that jazz – to carry on his legacy, but if he had a daughter he would be wrapped around her little finger.

I could see him rocking one of those baby carriers whilst simultaneously teaching. No-one questions him, since he’s the Grandmaster – plus the baby is adorable, so there’s very little confliction.

Thinks up cute snow / ice / cold related nicknames for the little one, which probably will evolve into their code-name when they get older. He still calls Kuai ‘Tundra’ when they’re not in front of their students, so that playful nature is still there under that stern façade.

Doesn’t want to shove the fact that his kid is angelic in people’s faces but – look at his angel baby. Look at them! They are perfect! Those eyes! That little button nose! But don’t touch the baby. He will cut a bitch.

“Let’s go see Uncle Kuai”

Uncle Kuai has little to no experience with babies but he’s gotta learn! He’s only ever met young Lin Kuei members when they were just exiting the toddler stage, so seeing a baby this small makes him a bit more cautious.

The sight of you with the baby makes him feel at home. And he’ll probably want another…

Kung Lao

For all his confidence during your pregnancy, this man is basically hopeless when you go into labour. Like, he tries to be as supportive as he can be, but he’s white as a sheet and looks as if he’ll faint at any given moment.

He’s very gentle when he holds them for the first time, as if he’s scared that he’ll break them. He remembers holding Jin when he was an infant, so the experience isn’t knew to him, but knowing that the baby in his arms is his – it blows his mind.

He manages not to cry until they open their little eyes, peering up at him in wonder. Then he almost sobs.

From day one, he’s the Over-protective Parent. Upon learning about his fate in the Coliseum, he’ll maintain a watchful eye over your baby, at all times. He’s taken them to class a couple of times, which granted him a few stares but otherwise was unmentioned – they were just grateful he went…

Keeps his hat out of there reach – his worst nightmare is that they cut their little hands on the blade.

He’ll probably want his name incorporated in their’s. If it’s a boy, he’ll want to name them after him to keep with tradition, but if it’s a girl he’ll be happy with it as a middle-name.

Isn’t the biggest fan of having other people hold them; the only people to have had the go ahead, other than those within the temple, are Raiden and Cassie. He’s constantly afraid that they’ll drop the baby, and so would rather hold them and let the person fawn over them that way.

#johnny cage #kabal #erron black #kuai liang #hanzo hasashi #bi-han #kung lao #mortal kombat #mk #mk x #mk 11 #mortal kombat preference

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