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givemewinterpls · 1 year

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Gunnison National Forest, CO

#snow #winter #trees #mountains #mountain #ice #Personal #Travel #Icey #Snowy #Colorado #Forest

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severalsmallwizards · 1 year

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7 for the ask game

7. what color brings you peace?

these shades of green, blue and yellow!!

#ask #ask game #so like dark forest green / desaturated icey blue / undertale yellow

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painted-bees · 1 year

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[edit: this is a bit outdated, now! You can read the full narrative of these events over here!]

The water between the Discovery Islands, off the coast of British Columbia, is perhaps the sleepiest, most uneventful little corner of the entire Pacific Ocean. It’s a perfect little cradle for the marine life that abundantly lives there. And so, when something peculiar does occur within the tranquil archipelago, it is never to be dismissed.

Which is why, when an enormous bubble that rose up from the depths between Vancouver Island and Quadra Island went wholly unreported, locals were easily persuaded into believing that their memories of the sudden tidal swel--which swallowed their shorelines in the middle of the night and claimed no victims--was a phenomenon of mass delusion.

With little to nothing in the way of consequence following that strange night, it was easy to fall back onto the knowledge that things such as tsunamis simply cannot occur in isolation among the dense cluster of quiet little islands. Magritte and Rafael, however, were not so unchanged by the events that took place.

Magritte remembers how the icey bite of the water numbed her oyster-torn palms. She remembers imagining the finger of a monkey paw curling when she finally got to see the dorsal fins of the orcas that everyone but her had been so fortunate to spot from the Smelt Bay shoreline. They were close enough to touch, but she could not bring up her arms. She remembers singing, in poorly ragged notes, to Orion who remained aloof and uncaring among the rest of the stars in the sky.

Whether Magritte’s memories of being swept out to sea that night are real or hallucinatory in nature, life in their little island cottage was never quite the same afterwards. Magritte had spent the following week in bed, recovering from a fever–and all the while, Rafael would frequently hear her calling his name in a hoarse, tired voice from the yard outside. Her silhouette could, for fleeting moments, be seen breaking up the moonlit boughs of the evergreen forest bordering the property. And, she would sing…a ragged, slightly nonsense song which sounded as though it had been composed as a futile weapon against a fading consciousness.

It should have been unnerving. In fact, it could have been wholly upsetting. Though it sounded perfectly like her, Magritte was not out there beckoning him. She was upstairs resting, safe and cozy. Still, the doppelganger called and crooned. It met Rafael’s consciousness not as an ill omen, but as a wandering curiosity. His name met him as an inquiry, the ragged singing as an attempt at conversation. He responded by leaving an offering of tea and cookies at the foot of the porch steps leading into the side yard, where thought he had occasionally caught a glimpse of her inconsistent contours against the foliage of the forest.

He didn’t wholly believe that the phantom Magritte outside actually existed. In the mornings, the mug of tea would be tipped over, and the cookies taken away by the local wildlife. But, that empty plate was encouragement enough for him to keep up the little ritual, at least until Magritte–the real Magritte–was back on her feet. And indeed, once Magritte had returned to her energetic self, the shadow of her that lurked by the treeline every night prior…fell silent and unseen.

Until Magritte invited it inside.

It did not speak, but held them with a swallowing gaze. So slender, so gentle mannered. It had approached Magritte with an armful of fish; an apology. Magritte invited it in, and Rafael prepared a late dinner for the three of them.

It became the new evening ritual; it would arrive at the cottage with a fresh haul from the sea, Magritte would invite it inside, Rafael would make dinner from whatever it had brought them. Each night, its appearance changed little by little into something less vaguely otherworldly. Or, perhaps, they were simply growing more familiar. It taught them the song that Magritte had sung to Orion (she had, herself, forgotten the lyrical genius of her delirium), and they recomposed it into a jovial, drunken shanty together. They introduced their peculiar houseguest to mp3s, fleece-lined sweaters, and strawberry rhubarb ice cream, and in exchange, it brought them uniquely shaped shells and foraged trinkets from the bay.

These nightly visitations continued until, at last, it–she adopted a name she had heard and liked; Cortes.

And, she stayed that night until morning, and until the morning after that, and the morning after that, and…so forth.

#cortes #long post #prose #unedited #i was gonna draw sketches to accompany this but I have too much on my plate right now😭#which means no one is gonna read it...so maybe I will repost with drawings someday when I have the time and have no migraine lmao #Hi-Note

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thebellearchives · 9 months

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Please do fluff prompt 1 with Nanami 🙏🏻

Reader is fembodied with eyes similar to Hinata from Naruto but icey blue.

❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️🥳🎉 <--- that's for you because I love your writing

𝐍𝐀𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐀𝐋

~ nanami kento ; jujutsu kaisen

✧˚ · . S Y N O P S I S : your friendship with nanami has always felt simple and natural, it makes sense that when you end up together it feels exactly the same

‧₊˚ c o n t e n t s : fem!reader, fluff, friends to lovers, mayyyybe a bit ooc nanami?? 🙇🏼‍♀️

‧₊˚ a / n : omg don’t come after me but i’ve never watched naruto hah, hope nanami’s description of the reader’s eyes is good enough (dw at least i know who hinata is) sorry for the wait aaa 😭🫶🏻 and yes i’m writing that “taking care of the other’s wounds” scenario again i have no regrets

Boredom prompted a slow yawn out of your mouth, sleepy tears formed in the corner of your eyes as you scrolled on your phone in search of entertainment. It was about 10:00 pm when some heavy steps entering the infirmary made you look up. Nanami looked worn out, but also relieved when he saw you there.

“You’re here. I’m glad” the man had some cuts in his face and bruises down his neck, your eyes followed as he walked over to the table next to you.

“You are?”

“Yes, I wouldn’t want to refuse Ieiri’s treatment. Where is she?”

“She went out for a smoke” Nanami’s nimble fingers picked up a bag of cotton balls and went in search of the alcohol bottle. His brows raised, chocolate brown eyes looking for yours from behind his glasses.

“Didn’t she say she’d quit?”

“You know Ieiri” with a sigh, you moved closer and stole the bottle from his hand.

“It’s okay, I can-”

“I know” he sighed in defeat, you decided to offer him a sweet small smile “just let me take care of you, okay? you look really tired”

He licked his lower lip, hesitant, but ended up nodding softly.

“Fine. Thanks.”

“Don’t mention it.”

Your hands opened the bottle of alcohol and picked up some cotton while waiting for him to sit down in the chair right behind him, but he didn’t. He remained silent and calm, studying your movements. You had known Nanami for a long, long time, ever since you were just a girl. Enough time for him to let you come close, enough to feel comfortable and relaxed in your presence. Enough for you to slowly develop feelings for him.

“I’ll take these” a soft whisper made its way from your lips, your free hand sliding his glasses away from his face.

He didn’t react, didn’t flinch, didn’t reply. His eyes were fixed on yours almost as if he had zoned out. You started cleaning the small cuts and dried blood off his skin, the sound of his even breathing carrying your mind far away. Swiping your fingertips gently near the injuries to soothe the burn of the alcohol, brushing some hair strands of his golden hair pretending they were getting in your way. You remembered how he used to be so wary of you, always keeping a certain distance. And now you were here with him, walls down, letting you take care of him as you wished. Intimate, vulnerable. You finished up cleaning some smudged dirt from his jawline when you felt his hands grasping your hips delicately, the touch bringing you back from your thoughts and your pupils searching for his curiously.

“Is something wrong?”

He shook his head slightly. You blinked in surprise as he lifted up your face just a bit, cradling your cheek.

“It’s just that I had never stopped to really see how misty your eyes are. They make me feel like i’m somewhere else, a hazy blue lake in a foggy forest. Peaceful… at ease.”

Somehow your breath got caught up in your throat, eyes widening and heartbeat picking up a quicker rhythm. The words Nanami spoke felt so natural, so much that you wondered if he had even said them with a romantic intention or if it had been just an observation, a gentle compliment. For a second your mind tried to decipher the meaning behind them, come up with a response to the genuine confession, but the attempt was immediately interrupted by the grazing of his thumb right under your eye. The light brush wiping your head clean in an instant, his ring and pinky under your chin guiding you closer towards his lips.

So you patiently closed your eyes and followed his actions. Nanami’s lips met yours then, soft movements, prompting a sweet warmth to cover your cheeks and travel down towards your chest. There was no hesitation, no doubts, your hands didn’t even tremble when you reached to cup his face. There was a certain tranquility in the simplicity of the movements, the way his arms softly brought you closer to him, the way your hands slid towards the back of his neck, the tenderness and longing of your lips grasping for each other.

And the moment he pulled away to grasp for air your lips almost followed like magnets, but stopped the moment you realized you also needed to take a breath. He rested his forehead on top of yours, a soft sigh escaping his lungs.

You smiled. There in his arms you felt like everything had fallen into place, it was just that simple. There was no need for words, everything had already been said.

#; fluffy belle #jjk #jujustu kaisen #jjk x reader #nanami kento #kento nanami #jjk nanami #nanami x reader #nanami x you #nanami x y/n #kento nanami x reader #jjk x you #jjk x y/n #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader

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dutiful-wildcraft · 3 months

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Pack Kortac - Werewolf! König Headcanons

Tags: monster au, werewolves, gore, body horror, general lore

-He wasn't born a wolf, but bitten. A status held with high regard amongst the lycans. Those bitten rarely have the fortitude to survive their first change. Their bodies too weak and unfamiliar with the shift, minds too easily lost. To change shape is a powerful thing…not all the wolves in the forest were born that way.

-The young boy had always found solace in the woods. No one to look at him. No expectations for him talk. He could simply exist here. In the safe and quiet. At least he had thought. Teenage König had been bitten and abandoned in those very woods. Terrified. He stumbled home, wrapping the raw wound with trembling hands and refusing to tell his grandmother. Who would believe him? That a hulking beast on hind legs had sank its teeth into him?

-Scrawny, nervous König, who drug himself back out into the same woods when the nausea and pain became to much. Who screamed and cried as his bones began to bend and break. Clawed viciously at human flesh that burned like acid. König who awoke and looked to the sky with new eyes. To shimmering stars and the scents of prey animals trembling in the underbrush.

-König had hid since childhood. Had trained himself to be small and still when his teachers and grandmother barked at him for his squirming and clumsiness. Nothing he did seemed right. But here? Everything was right.

-He didn't have to hide here. Under the trees he could run and howl, delight in the crunch of bones between his teeth. The wind in his fur. This. This is what he was built for. He grew taller, became bulkier. Signed himself away to the military with a white lie the very next morning. Never to look back on the life he had before.

-Bitten wolves, despite popular belief, are less instinctually motivated. Unlike born wolves, who's instincts are firmly integrated, Bitten wolves can maintain a degree of seperation. As a human their needs for bonds are less intense. Bitten's are also less temperamental , having been socialized traditionally as human.

-König, behaves with a savage brutality in and out of the shift. Simply because he is just like that. Not because of instinctual forces outside of his control. He only needed the shift to truly find himself.

-König wore the hood at first to cover the scars on his face, the gap in his cheek that revealed a small glimpse of stained teeth. His first change had been rough, fangs and jaw crunching and tearing through soft human flesh. His scars had been self inflicted, harsh lines from where he had frantically torn at burning flesh too prematurely to reveal the wolf underneath. These scars, along with a significant line along his spine, are what remain as evidence of this change.

-While being Bitten is largely seen as a significant sign of strength there are some disadvantages. While shifts became easier, they will never be as smooth as a born wolf.

-While his body has adjusted quite a bit, but he still needs accommodations to dull his senses while human, such as earplugs.

-König revels in the change. Even without the scars his veil had become a necessity on the field. Even as he got older, controlling his shifts were tedious. He trembles with pure energy in the heat of the fray. His teeth ache, pulling and sharpening. Grey-blue eyes shifting into something icey and glowing. Claws tear through leather gloves. The veil helped to avoid questions from his human teammates.

-Overtime this became too tedious. König strikes me as the intro-virtuous type. Having big “I don't want to do it but I'm the only motherfucker here, so I guess I'll handle it” energy. He absolutely maneuvered himself into a position of leadership out of sheer annoyance this way.

-König had long convinced himself that having a pack is not suited for him. He lacks the know how. Feeling lost without the more obvious instincts to guide him into finding pack mates. Deep down it eats at him.

-He buries it though, building Kortac, and recruiting fellow bloodthirsty monsters that resemble a pack. It lacks true bonds. But it gave König the space to let his wolf run. He resolves that's all he needs for now. Addicted to the rush of blood under his nails and flesh in his teeth.

Descriptions of König inspired by floweryanarchy's piece: x

#a little something to compliment Price's piece #these are in the same universe #but I intend on keeping the 141 and kortac seperate #unless I want them to try to kill eachother aha #monster au #pack kortac #konig cod #konig mw2 #werewolf!konig #könig cod #könig mw2

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floacy · 6 months

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I just realised that team colors correlate with the biome they spawned in.

Red- Savannah

Green- Jungle/ Bamboo forest

Blue- Icey/Snowy taiga

#qsmp #qsmp purgatory #qsmp red team #qsmp green team #qsmp blue team

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yandere-delulu · 2 years

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Eyes Like Rubies

Yandere! Platonic! Thranduil x Albino! Teen! Reader x Yandere! Platonic! Legolas

Summary: Y/N wakes up in a strange place. Thranduil makes a journey into the forest

Warning: Mention of main character death, talk of being killed, anxiety attack

A/N: I did not mean for this chapter to get this long, but whelp here we are. To clarify by teen! reader, Y/N is 13 years old. Old enough to understand what is happening to a degree, but young enough to be impressionable (easily gaslight ) , and young enough for Thranduil and Legolas to be like yes this is my child/sister. Hope that clears any confusion.

Chapter 1: A Strange World, A Strange Girl

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The energy came to a crescendo, whipping and crackling, the whole forest felt alight with the bizarre cascade of power, a strange pressure building in the forest. A pressure began to wane on the edges as it gathered, building into a tornado of unconstrained power, turning and twisting around itself, until it had become one focused mass of energy. Light began pouring out, rays casted brighter than the summer sun, glowing brighter and brighter. Tell suddenly it was gone. And all that was left was a girl, a child, laying asleep upon the woodland floor.

Sitting atop his throne, Thranduil went over the various reports that had come in over the past week, pouring over each detail, trying to find even the tiniest bit of information that could help identify this threat. Anything at all, yet there was nothing. And it frustrated him; no, it enraged him, his kingdom is under the spell of some wicked sorcerer who he cannot locate, the spiders are moving in patterns never seen before. While he sits here, behind his castle walls trying to decipher the puzzle that lays before him, and hope it is one that will lead to an answer.

Not will, it has to lead to an answer. He is the King, he must lead his people and he must ensure home and safety.

“My King!” A Guard shouted, running towards the thorn, Thranduil immediately standing up and descending. “There is something happening in the forest!” He cried, pointing in the direction of the main gate.

Striding forward, Thranduil grabbed his sword, “Men, gather together and head toward the main gate!” He ordered, his voice booming through the winding hall. Sounds of quick feet and arm clinking as his kin armed themselves and made their way towards the center of it all.

Thranduil could only take in a steady breath, and march ever closer with his head held high. Only giving a quick glance as his son fell in line with his steps somewhere along his path to the main gate.

Yet for all he could imagine, nothing prepared him for what he would see.

Feet coming to a halt at the kingdom's gate, icey blue iris struggling to comprehend the sight before him, senses reeling from what were once gentle waves of energy now felt like a suffocating blanket. Air alight with the same feeling right before a lightning strike, yet this scared him more than any storm from the heavens.

Rays of golden light dance through the trees, far brighter than the sun ever was, cutting between the spaces between trunks, it hurt to look at yet Thranduil couldn’t look away. It was enchanting, yet terrifying. Breaking away, he turned to face the captain of the guard, “When did this begin?”

“Only a few moments ago, My King.” Tauriel spoke, worrying, cressing her brow, hand clenching her bow in a vice-grip. “A buzzing had filled the air, and then the light appeared, but it wasn’t this bright initially.” She spoke.

“What do you mean?” He spoke, eyes returning to mysterious light. Only to widen as he watched it only grew brighter, forced to squint to maintain visual.

His ever impatient son began to step forward, only to be stopped, Thranduil swinging out his arm to block his path. “Father, shouldn’t we go out there and investigate what is causing the light?” His son strongly questioned.

Casting a stern look at his progeny, he returned his stare forward, hand returning to rest on his sword. “Until we know what IT is, we would be fools to charge in. For all we know it could be a trap meant to lure soldiers away to lay siege while their posts are depleted” Thranduil’s voice came out sharper then he would have hoped for, but his son must learn that charging into a battle without a proper understanding of one's enemy in foolhardy. “Guard patrols have already been sent out to survey the area, and report anything suspicious. If anything moves in this forest I will hear about it.”

Legolas had to hold back a sigh, staring at his father’s back. Sometimes he wished he wasn’t the crown prince.

That’s where they stayed, waiting for an attack, for the spiders, for the orcs, for anything to come charging through the trees. Yet nothing came as he stood outside, his army behind him, a sharp eye trained on the light that only seemed to grow brighter.

He could feel it, the energy; the magic, moving, shifting, gathering into a single point, and that worried him. It was beginning to change, alter ever so slightly as it gathered. This amount of magic alone was almost unheard of, very few had the ability to gather, let alone control such a plethora. But what worried him was if the magic was only being gathered right now,what spells would they be able to unleash across the woodland realm.

As his mind pondered the outcomes, the ways that the enemy could be manipulating the magic, it stopped.

It was gone.

All of it.

The magic vanished like it had never been there.

The light cut like a blown out candle, leaving only the forest as it once was.

Whispers began to swell amongst the elves, many raising their bows, and spears, speaking of how it could have just disappeared.

“Are they going to charge us?” One questioned.

“Maybe it’s a ploy like the king said to lure us out?” Another added.

Yet for all the questions that could be asked not a single answer could be offered.

No movement could be heard, only the gentle swaying of the trees and foliage, The forest was silent.

“Then we will wait, circulate that there have been no changes to the current orders, no elves are to leave their posts.” Thranduil spoke, “We will wait until our enemy realizes that cowardice and cheap magic tricks will not win this battle.”

Nodding, guards set out to deliver his orders, while the rest stay in their position, ready for whatever may come spilling out of the forest.

So they waited, and waited, staring out into the depths of the forest; he didn't know how much time had passed, but as the sun started to move to the west Thranduil ordered a squadron of elves to inspect the origin of the light.

“And where are you off to Legolas?” Thranduil questions, eyes trained on his son, the same cold blue eyes meeting his own.

Turning away the younger elf made his way to join the guard, the same guard who had been assigned to find the source of the light. “To find whatever may be threatening the woodland.” He spoke clipped, hassle walking away before his father could pull him back. Legolas had learned long ago that if he wanted to leave the castle walls, to explore the outside world he had to leave either while his father was busy, or around enough people, and far enough away that he could make an escape without his father's interference. His father had an image to uphold, one of a cold and dignified ruler, he could not be seen having to wrangle his own son.

Resigning to Legolas’ choice he bid him a farewell, “and if you are to find anything, or are encountered with the enemy's forces, inform me immediately. Do NOT engage the enemy.” Thranduil directed his son, only earning a nod. Watching on with worry as he disappeared into the depth of the forest to face an enemy unknown. “I want 6 squadrons of guards to be sent out to patrol the outer edges, and entrance to the forest. If you see anything, report to me immediately, and if you find anything, bring it to me.”before disappearing back into the winding halls of his kingdom.

Jumping through the trees, Legolas surveyed the area, bow clutched tightly in his hand. They had not come across whatever had made that light, but the more concerning thing was the spiders, or the lack thereof.

The group had already entered into territory that should have been infested with them, yet not a single one had been seen, only the remnants of webs, caucasus and eggs. Eggs that look burnt, as if they had been cooked, no melted, scorch marks ripped across them from the direction the light had originated from.

“Send a word to my father about our finding, whatever this light is or was, it might be on our side.” Legolas spoke, watching as one of the guards nodded before quickly sprinting off back to the forest to deliver his message. ‘Father will most likely be getting several messages from the different squadrons soon, or he has already begun to receive them. The light stretched far and wide, I would be surprised if it pushed all the spiders to the very edges of the forest.’ A sudden thought crossed his mind.

Turning to Tauriel, “Do you think the reason the light kept getting brighter was to keep pushing the spider back?” he questioned.

Tilting her head to ponder the thought, “It might be, it’s possible that whatever was making the light was hoping that the spider would charge the light, but instead they fled and it forced the light to get brighter. It still doesn’t explain the week before the light appeared that the strange energy had hung over the forest idley.”

“The closer we get to the source of the light, the more grotesque the spiders are. I fear that when we reach the center there may not even be any remnants of spiders left.” A elf spoke

“But isn’t strage?” Another chimed in.

“What’s strange?” Legolas spoke.

“Look around, for all the devastation that had come to the spiders, the forest is unharmed. I mean look, a spider is singed and melted against the tree, but not a single scratch is on the tree. That’s what’s strange.” They spoke.

“He’s right…” Tauriel whispered, astonishment coloring her features.

“No, that’s not it.” Legolas spoke, spinning around to fully take in the forest he had traveled in almost everyday, how had he not noticed it. The others looked at him in confusion, he continued, “No, it’s not that no harm had been done to the forest, it’s as if the opposite had occurred. Look at the trees, the forest floor, everything around you.” He spoke, as if he himself could not believe it.

Muted greens that had lost their luster now looked vibrant, full of life. Once sparse woodland floor was now filled with lush green grass; grass that had even been freckled with spots of color. Flowers. There were flowers, sprouting between the blades of grass.

Gasps were heard all around, elves running in every direction to inspect the forest they knew so well. Many stared at the ground in wonder and confusion, how long had it been since they had seen such a vibrant color in their once muddled forest.

Legolas couldn’t even remember the last time he had seen a flower bloom in this forest, and yet now there seem to be hundreds painting the floor. He wasn’t the only one, the other elves that had come with all stood transfixed by the beauty that they so missed, one that had always felt like a far off dream. Stories told to them about the once grand and colorful realm, overflowing with bright flowers and lush foliage.

His father told him he was named after the beautiful trees that filled the forest, ones you could feel the life emanate from, and as he places his hand against it; he can feel it, warmth and life, pulsating deep from within the tree, life that had always felt absent before. Flowing from the tips of its leaves and all the way deep down into its roots.

As he stares at the landscape before him he realizes, wherever the light had touched, life had returned. “Tauriel, do you notice the direction of the light, wherever it touches that’s where life has returned.” He spoke, gaining the attention of all the elves.

“And if the spiders have decayed more the closer we have gotten, but the green and more lush the forest’s become.” Tauriel Started.

“Then we can use it as a guide to find the source!” Legolas finished, a Bright smile filling his face. Maybe this is what they need, what the woodlands need in order to return to its former glory.

“Captain, up ahead there seems to be a larger gathering of flowers!” One shouted, pointing deeper into the forest.

Glancing down at the forest floor he noticed that the flowers began to grow in greater numbers up ahead, as if they were leading somewhere, leading to the source. “Look at the ground, farther back there was only a single color of flower, but farther forward they become more abundant, and not only that, there are several species of flower growing.”

“We might be closer to the source than we think.” Tauriel stated. “Alright, everyone stay focused, let’s move towards the grove of flowers, be ready for anything. As much as this light has given us some of the woodland realms' former life back, we are unsure of its allegiance, so we must approach with caution.” Pointing to three elves, “You three go into the upper branches, make sure to keep a visual on everything, we still don’t know what this thing looks like.” Turning to another four, “You lot, circle around to the otherside, I want to surround this thing, if it makes any sudden movements I want to be able to suppress it. The rest I want you to stay with me, we will approach this thing with the utmost caution.”

Nodding, they all spread to follow orders.

“I see you have gotten quite well at analyzing situations and devising a proper strategy to ensure the desired outcome, Tauriel.” A stern, cold voice that could only belong to one elven-king spoke. “Though your choice to go against a direct order to not engage the enemy is a bold one, what is your explanation for such?”

Whipping around Legolas and Tauriel were met with the arrival of Thranduil, saddled onto his elk, with a string of soldiers following behind.

“I’m waiting.” He sharply enunciated, staring down at the two, Tauriel with mild annoyance, and Legolas with displeasure at his son’s insurance to throw himself face first into danger with no forethought.

Clearing her throat, Tauriel chose her words carefully, “Well. My King, My squadron and I were only going to do reconnaissance. We have no knowledge of what the being that emitted the light looks like, or of their allegiance, we simply wanted to obtain information. After that we would have immediately come back with a report.” Bowing, she chose not to meet King Thranduil’s gaze.

“I see, so when you said ‘I want to surround this thing, and if it makes sudden movements I want to be able to suppress it.’, it was for reconnaissance, and not for a plan to apprehend the creature?” Thranduil rebuked, a sharp gaze settled on Tauriel’s head, one she could feel boring threw her skull.

Stepping up, Legolas leveled his gaze with his father’s, “Are you going to offer me an answer or an excuse for your actions, Legolas?” Thraduil swiftly cut him off.

Taking a breath, he readjusted the grip on his bow, it’s times like this where he feels like King Thranduil, not his father, “An answer,” pause, “father” just long enough to border on disrespectful, in a sly attempt to get under his father’s skin the same why that his father so effortlessly does to him. The subtle twitch in his left eyebrow tells Legolas that he was successful.

“Then let’s hear it.”

“The light had only harmed the spider, and left the forest untouched, that was our initial observation, but as we journeyed closer to the origin of the light, we realized that the light wasn’t just killing the spiders. It was healing the forest, and the closer we got the more healed the forest was.” Legolas spoke, geasutring to the forest around.

“The prince is right, look at the forest floor, flowers!” A soldier shouted, a tizy began to form as the soldier fully started taking in the forest.

“It’s been ages since flowers have bloomed in the woodlands!” Another cried.

“Maybe I should bring some home for my kids, I think they’ll be surprised.”

“SILENCE!” Thranduil boomed, a cold hush falling over. Finally dismounting, he began trending along the forest floor, before bending down, hands brushing against the soft petals of a white lily. He could feel the life in the plane, this was no mirage conjured by some sorcerer, this was real.

Standing up, he made his decision, even if he doesn’t have all the pieces to the puzzle he has enough to form a plan, and if this being has the power the push the spiders back and revitalize the forest, then they must be secured.

“Tauriel, you said the creature is in the grove up ahead?”

“Yes my King”

Turning to his soldier, “Secure the area around the groove, I want no chance of this creature escaping. Be ready in the chance it becomes hostile, but I want every effort to avoid harming it, it’s too much of a valuable resource to let it be killed.” Spinning back towards the grove, soldiers quickly split, beginning to form a perimeter around.

“And what will you do father?” Legolas questioned, quickly springing to follow his father, as he and a group of soldiers made a direct trek to the grove.

“Negotiate.” A short answer as always from his father Legolas mused, unaware of the turbulent thoughts that swirled within his father’s head.

‘What could it possibly be seeking? Most don’t do such great deeds until an agreement is in place for something in return. This could be a ploy to try to make the woodland realm indebted to them, but it’s not well thought out. We could simply reject them and throw them out after all this work. It’s truly strange what their motives are.’

Gaspes echoed around as their eyes came to see the grove, yet Thranduil stayed tight lipped.

“It’s beautiful!” “So many flowers!” “Is this what Valinor is supposed to look like?”

The trees gave way to a small sunlit meadow area, illuminated by the sun were thousands of flowers, flowers so plentiful you couldn’t see the woodland floor, you couldn’t even see the lush grass underneath. It looked as if a rainbow had painted the ground with its cascading colors, a calming smell of florals filing the air.

It felt so peaceful here, as if the whole world was separate from this lone piece of land.

“This is the center right?” A soldier beside Thranduil questioned.

“Wait, I see something!” Another shouted, pointing to the center.

Focusing on the center, he could see an ident in the pasture of flowers, it was small, but large enough to be something.

Taking strides towards the mass, Legolas a few steps behind much to his fathers chagrin, “Do not approach until I order it. I don’t want to risk any potential alliance because some fool mistakes another being's culture or mannerisms.”

The closer he got, the more he could make out of the creature’s appearance. At first he saw a pair of shoes, then legs that seemed to be covered in a tight black material, a red skirt with folds that seemed far too short with a strange white line along the bottom, a human’s formal shirt, with one of those obnoxiously large bows they seem so fond of. But when he saw their face he realized, this wasn’t a hobbit, nor a dwarf, this was a female human child, but as he gazed at the halo of snow white hair that fell around their head, he wondered if this creature was human. Whatever it was, it seemed to be asleep, chest slowly falling and rising with each breath.

As he gazed upon this creature, their beauty was notable, far too pretty to be lumped in with the species of man, yet his mind kept wandering to the age of this creature, it looked so small, laying in a forest completely defenseless. It…She couldn’t have been abandoned, far to clean, only a few flower petals litter her hair, her clothes looked to be of material he had never seen, but nevertheless the white formal shirt lay wrapped around her body as pristine in color as her hair. Her existence left him with questions only she could hopefully answer. Void of other options for answers, walking the creature up is the easy part, he was only hoping they were as peaceful awake as asleep.

Warmth.

Everywhere.

It felt so nice.

A gentle waft of florals filling Y/N lungs with each breath, she could,’t help but snuggle deeper into her arms, body shifting ever so slightly. A soft blade of grass ran across her nose, making it scrunch.

Wait….

Grass?

Eyelids shot open, ruby iris darting around in shock, turning quickly to lock on the figure that stood above them, one that held a…a sword. Mind traveling a million miles a second, yet body feeling a century behind. Jolting up to her hand, crying in horror, her legs too weak to stand, forced to desperately crawl backwards, away, anywhere but here.

But life isn't that easy, eyes scanning, in a frenzy for an escape, she realized there was none. Surrounded, she was surrounded, armored soldiers stationed along the tree line, there was no escape. Tears that had sat idle began to swell, spilling like fresh rain, muddled hiccups followed as her situation only became more real.

She was gonna die.

Again.

Turning to face her executioner, she noticed there were two of them, both with matching long blonde hair that sparkled in the light, if they weren’t here to kill her she might have asked them about their hair routine. Though she did notice the younger of the two did seem more weary, eyes casting a concerned look, but Y/N doubted it was for her. They were her to most likely behead her, judging by the sword, or at least she was hoping it would be that fast, her other death was.

She didn’t want to die, not again. Y/N didn’t want to die in the first place, if it was a perfect world she would still be back in her world and be at F/N home studying and laughing at some stupid teen drama they had found.

But no Y/N here in a forest surrounded by soldiers wearing weird armor; armor she had only ever seen anything remotely similar in a museum, with two people dressed differently standing only a dozen feet away. So Y/N did what any sane person did that wanted to live, and begged for her life, like her life depended on it, because it did.

Eyes cloudy with tears, she gazed at floral expanse beneath her, maybe they would have more pity on her if they didn’t see her eyes, she mused. Taking in a shaky breath, she spoke the question that she feared to ask, “You’re here to kill me, aren't you?” She tried to sound strong, but her voice only wobbled as tears fell on the flowers below.

“No.”

“Please just make it as painless as possibl-no? You said no?” Y/N mind was reeling, if they weren’t here to kill her, then why all the soldiers, or the weapons. Maybe they were trying to get here to lower her guard, that has to be it. Casting a questioning gaze to the sword resting on the hip of the older man, it looked ornate, far nicer than any sword she had seen in a museum. ‘Could this be a ritualistic killing!? I've heard about it on the news, people use blades like that.’ Y/N couldn’t stop the way her heart sped up, it was gonna burst from her chest, they were lying, it was all some sick game to lure her out, to trick her.

“Adar, megil lín (Father, your sword).” A hurried voice spoke, words she could not understand, only surviving to fuel her fear. Eyes widening in horror as the older man reaches for his sword, this was it, she was gonna die again.

“Please no! Don’t kill me!” She cried, curling in on herself, unable to watch anymore, unable to face the harsh reality. Broken sobs wrecking her form, choked whimpers filling the silence of the forest. She just wanted it to be over, for everything to be over, no more stares, no more snide looks, no more anything. Why couldn’t she have been normal.

Yet as she lay hunched over, sobs never ceasing, it never came, the slice of a cold blade never even neared her fragile neck as she laid with it exposed. For all she heard, a metal clank fell against the forest bed, the man had abandoned his sword, thrown it to the side far out of reach, while the other had moved back towards the line of soldiers. Gentle footfalls approached her, Y/N couldn't bear to look up, fearing what she may face, armor clad feet only stopping just out of reach, shadow eclipsing her small form.

Gaining the courage to look up, to look at the man she fears will take her life does she begin to comprehend just how much larger he was then her, he towered over her, frankly he has to be taller then any human she had ever met. Broad shoulders that blocked the setting sun from view, neck straining to even look at his face. Icy blue eyes stared deep into her, looking through her, as if the holder could see everything about her,but as she sat, eyes blurry with tears, their gazes every locked.

Surprise reshaped her face, as the tall man bent to her level (well as close as he could get), taking a knee in front of her, their faces much closer, yet he still kept his hands where she could see them, never once making a fast move.

Up close she could make out the strong features of his face, his eyes were so pretty, so blue, so unlike her own. He was handsome, handsome enough that he probably had loads of women following him around, but he also seemed old enough to have a wife. It was hard to tell his age, he looked old and wise, yet effortlessly ethereal and full of youth.

“Child” A deep timbard voice drew her for the examination of his features, after gaining Y/N attention he continued, “We are not here to kill or harm you, we are here to negotiate” he paused, “to talk.” he quickly added. His gaze looks honest, but looks can always be deceiving.

Nodding, Y/N steadied her voice, using her sleeve to wipe the remnants of tears, “What is there to talk about?” She questioned, but judging by the flash of confusion that crossed his face maybe that wasn’t the right answer. “I-I-I m-mean if i did anything wrong I don’t know, one minute I was somewhere and the next I woke up here!” She stuttered out in a rush, trying to clear the air. Oh god did she get reincarnated into the body of a criminal, but that’s not possible she’s still wearing her school uniform. “Please you have to believe me!” She cried, hands pulling at her clothes, trying to think of anything to make them believe her. Panic completely taking over, hands moving to her hair, pulling desperately, trying to come up with anything, anything at all to say.

Her skin felt too tight, her heart was in her ears, the tears were back. Please no, she was gonna have a panic attack in front of a bunch of complete strangers.

More words said in a language she couldn’t understand flew over her head. Voices were blurring together, everything was blurring together, air starting to feel thin, she was gonna pass out.

Clicks of metal echo in her ears, something dropped on the ground on a foot aways from her, she couldn’t look. This was the end.

A hand.

A warm hand.

A hand devoid of metal or cloth, sat on the crown of her head, stopping the harsh ministrations to her hair. It didn’t move, not at first, no it just lay there, heat emanating off, a warmth that slowed the manic pace of her brain. Until she lowered her hands, the stagnant hand began to move, a smooth circle across her scalp, gently threading her hair between its fingers, yet not one strand ever snagged. Muscles relaxing, she had been on edge and tense for so long, to finally come down, it felt nice. This felt nice. Y/N can’t even remember the last time someone soothed her like this, a brief flash, a memory of mother Melissa giving her head pats was the closest, but not like this. Closing her eyes, soaking in the warmth, unaware of how she leaned into the hand so generously calming her down.

Everything started to catch up to Y/N.

Being chased through the streets, getting mocked, dying, waking up and having to face death all over again.

She just felt so tired, and as the hand continued to massage her scalp, she felt herself slip into the world of dreams, body going limp and sliding forward, ready to fall.

Except this time when she fell, a pair of arms were waiting to catch her.

#yandere x y/n #platonic yandere #tw yandere #yandere #yande.re #lotr x reader #lotr #lord of the rings #the lord of the rings #hobbits #king thranduil #thranduil #reader is female #fem reader #x reader #yandere x reader #lotr fandom #lotr imagine #lotr films

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runner5anna · 4 months

Text

Christmas Cactus

Heyo @kodessa ! I am your ZR secret Santa. Here is a festive fic for you.

Thank you @notforconsumption and @delucadarling for organising this !

It's Christmas day in Able township. It's icey, it's cold, it's not very festive. But, Sam is quite determined to at least make something warm out of the bad day.

There is no spoilers, its SFW but there is discussions of grief and cussing. Also cringe pick up lines.

"Shit!" Bellowed Sam, along with a cacophony of clattering coming from downstairs. Five sucked a lungful of cold air in, kicking the many layers of blankets off of her, grabbed the knife from under the bedside table and ran downstairs. She shoved open the door, shouting “who the hell is there?” and slashing at the air. Her chest heaved with adrenaline and fatigue. The cold air pressed on her bare feet, and her pyjama trousers were halfway up her legs.

‘Uh - just me?” Answered Sam. He was hunched over the side, which was covered in cocoa powder and parts of a mug. The forest green hoodie he wore to bed was covered in water. “Wait - is that another knife, 5? I thought we talked about this. You don’t need to keep knives under the bed side table.”

5 grinned and placed it down on the side. “I don’t know what you mean.” She slid it into the drawer, intending to pick it up later. “Need a hand?”

“No - I think I’m ok.” he sighed. He picked up his foot, inspecting it closely. “I stubbed my toe and dropped the pink mug. I found the cocoa powder at the bottom of the drawer in the comms shack. Happy Christmas, I guess?” he sighed, dusted the reminisce of the brown powder off the base of his foot, and placed it down - deciding that it wasn’t broken, just sore. “I wanted to surprise you.”

“Oh shit - that day already?” 5 ran her hands up her face, pressing her palms into her eyes. She really needed a shower. Her face felt slick with sweat and grime from the night. Maybe she’d treat herself later to a lukewarm one.

“Yeah. Snuck up on me too. I looked at the clock on the computer last night and it was the 24th! I wanted to surprise you with some hot cocoa but I pigged that one up pretty badly.” He sniffled, and the tears welled like little gems in the corner of his large brown eyes.

“Oh - bless your heart, Sammy. You’re too kind for this world.” 5 opened her arms, inviting him in for a hug. He placed his bristled chin on her head and sighed, relaxing into her touch. “You didn’t have to do that for me.”

“I know. I’m the best.” He grinned. “But - I wanted to. So I did.” He pulled away from 5 and picked up the brush from the side. “I need to clean up. Snow isn’t brown. Unless it's mixed with mud. Or zombie parts. But I suppose I’d quite like chocolate snow.”

“How’s about I make us hot chocolate with what we have left over? And we can do…” Five pressed her tongue against her teeth in thought. “...festive things.”

“What can we do? Really?”

5 lent down to scoop up some more powder back into the pot. If she grabbed a collider, she could at least filter out some of the dust. It was salvageable at least - and there wasn’t much of this stuff left in the world so they should at least treasure it. Somewhat disgusting, yes, but it was the apocalypse. If you could be disgusting, it was now. It would be good for her immune system development, her mother would say. “I’m not actually sure. It’s not like we have a big dinner we can make or gifts.”

“Janine has given us the day off - for those that want it.”

“I might head out eventually, then.”

Sam slowly turned around, and pleaded. “Please don’t. It’s -6. It’s freezing. The ground is solid. You’ll slip. Plus it’s Christmas. Let’s just have a day together - It’s been too long.”

5 pulled a hair from the powder. It was short, brown and blunt - one of Janine’s. Her hair managed to get everywhere. It was a nice reminder that she was there somewhere - a dependable figure even in the hardest of times. “I don’t know what we can do, really.” she tutted. “We don’t even have a tree.”

Sam gave a little gasp, and quickly shuffled over to the window where he held up Cedrick the Cactus. He was a medium sized fluffy plant - whose fuzz were actually tiny spines which Sam found out rather painfully. 5 wasn’t quite sure why she grabbed it off of the shelf, but she didn’t regret it. He kept 5 and Sam entertained, and it gave them something to talk about outside of the insanity of work, how tired they were and whoever had died recently.

“Let’s decorate Cedrick!”

“Won’t I be pulling spines out of your hand for the next week again?”

“No.” He pouted. “Get your crochet, I’ll get a pen and paper. Let’s make some Christmas clothes for him. It will be fun!”

5 felt her belly rise with giggles that Sam could only bring from her. He was a ray of sunshine - everything good in the world. When 5 was with Sam, she felt like the best version of herself, like the world was lighter and the breeze was fresher. Her heart fluttered and her cheeks began to flush with how much she realised she was smiling.

“Let me go get dressed and I’ll be with you.”

“Ah ah ah!” Sam grabbed her hand, gently pulling her back and wrapping his arms around her waist. “Absolutely not. No one gets dressed before midday on Christmas.”

“If you say so. But I need a shower later. I’ll get dressed then.”

“I’ll give you one of my shower tokens. My treat.”

“Don’t you need them?”

“Nah. I’m clean enough. And I don’t go running multiple times a week. They’re upstairs, I think in my jeans pocket.”

“My crochet is upstairs as well - I’ll grab them on the way. And who knows. If I’m feeling generous later I’ll let you share the shower later.” 5 purred as she slunk out of the room, leaving Sam blushing a deep shade of beetroot red.

5 plodded down the stairs, still in their faded plaid pyjamas as promised, crochet hooks and wool in hand. She turned into the kitchen to see Sam was doodling, colouring and shading. He held the paper happily up - on it was a bundle of red berries and green leaves. “Mistletoe!” he announced proudly. “You know what that means?”

“No.” Five teased, leaning across the table. She softly held his gaze. Usually, Sam’s eyes darted everywhere, like he was avoiding eye contact with everyone while gaining as much information around him as possible. In moments like this, his eyes - beautiful pools of watercolour brown - held steady and calm.

“It means you-” he poked 5 on the nose with the paper. “-have to give me a kiss.”

“Ugh. If you insist.” 5 joked. She placed her hand on the base of Sam’s neck, pulling him across the table and into a kiss. It was deep and long, as the two relaxed into each other. 5 inhaled a smell she’d grown to love so much of marmite, washing powder and ink. Before he pulled away, Sam nuzzled their noses together, grinning from ear to ear.

“Thank you.” He whispered.

“You’re welcome.”

“I love you.”

“I love you too.” Five sat down, pulling up a chair and setting her crochet on the table. “What do you think I should make?”

“A little scarf, or a hat maybe. I think a tiny scarf will be easier. If your hand starts to hurt you can help me with the decorations.”

“All right.” Five started with a quick slip not, starting to make the first chain. “I always feel a little startled when I need to relax. I’m always so on edge that when I set time aside to be quiet and have time to myself I’m always waiting for the proverbial hat to drop.”

Sam hummed in agreement. “It is hard to relax now isn’t it? With the grey wandering outside the walls and regularly staring death in the ugly maw.” He finished colouring in a little robbin and began to cut around it with the scissors.

“I thought you were banned from using scissors by Maxine after the great finger slice event.”

“For your information, that ban was temporary. How was I supposed to know that Maxine had just sharpened her scissors? Who has scissors that sharp anyway?” he subconsciously ran his thumb over the scar on his finger.

“Who uses massive scissors on such a tiny thing?”

“Oh, be quiet!” He threw the roll of string at 5’s head. “Can I have that back please.”

5 leaned down to grab it, and spoke while she slid it across the table. “Events always feel so odd now. And I never quite know how to feel. I’m happy I survived another year I suppose.” She finished off a row and started another. “It’s such a tiny scarf, I’ll be done soon.”

Sam stood up and boiled the kettle. “I’m just letting the glue set - I won’t spill the hot chocolate powder. Close your mouth runner 5 I can tell exactly what you’ll tease me about.”

“What do you mean?” She scoffed mockingly.

“You were going to make fun of me for sticking my hand to my head with aeroplane glue.”

“I was not.”

“Yes you were.”

The two went back and forth, squabbling in good spirits while Sam made the hot chocolate.

“Oh - Sam look! Cedrick has a little flower. He's bloomed.”

“He reminds me of you in a way. You thrive in the harshest times, and you are very pretty.” He passed a mug over to 5, giving her a gentle kiss on the head. “You’re my little pretty flower.”

“Thank you, darling.” 5 pulled the final thread through, finishing off the tiny scarf. It wasn’t great, considering she’d not spent long on the thing, and the colours didn’t quite match the decor that Sam made. “It looks so bad.”

“What? I think it looks good. Christmas trees are not supposed to look good.”

“Cedrick is a Christmas cactus, and we made this in about 45 minutes. It's more ironic than anything - I don’t think they’re supposed to look good. But, y’know, I like him more because we raised him together, and we decorated him as well.” Sam wrapped an arm around 5’s shoulders, squeezing them comfortingly. “I want to make another one next year. I think it would be a good tradition.”

“I think…I’d like that. Christmas is so traditional - and now for the first time in ages we can’t do all of them. I’m so used to being with everyone at Christmas that it feels almost positive to create new traditions.”

“I don’t think Christmas will ever not be hard.” Sam mused between sips of hot chocolate and blowing on too hot marshmallows. “I cried one year because I put out 6 sets of cutlery for dinner even though It had been 2 years since my grandad died. No - three.”

“It will be hard - but with you I feel I can handle it. Thank you, for being there for me Sam. I appreciate you.”

“I appreciate you too, 5.” He placed his head on top of

“I think it’s just all been a lot. Even if we are a few years into the apocalypse, Christmas will always feel different. But I am happy I can spend it with you.”

“You know what I really want to do?”

“What? Remember it’s not midday yet, so there's no getting dressed. It’s the Christmas law.”

“No - I follow Christmas law. I want to cuddle and watch the Doctor Who Christmas specials in bed. Do you have them on your laptop?”

“Do I ever! I thought you’d never ask. That is a new and old Christmas tradition I can get behind.”

#zombies run #zr #runner five #runner 5 #sam yao #zombies run!#5am #zr fic #zombies run secret Santa #zr secret Santa #zr secret Santa 2023 #Kodessa #note to self cross post to AO3 #you can scheduel in advance on tumblr not AO3 #i was stupid an did 3 secret santas this year so thats three fics #i did four if you count the flat secret Santa but i didn't write for that #but i have had an excellent time but i have written...so much...

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givemewinterpls · 1 year

Text

Gunnison National Forest, CO

#snow #winter #trees #mountains #mountain #ice #Snowy #Icey #Personal #Travel #Forest #Gunnison #Colorado

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bonefall · 1 year

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Sorry if you've posted about her before, but have you any plans for Icewing? What with her being Beetlewhiskers mother, both of them trained ij the dark forest and the Erins didn't have her react to his death, plus the scene where she protects fellow trainees frok showing fear so they don't get hurt? This woman has SO much potential!

A fellow Moonkitti Enjoyer I see

Yes, though! Ice is getting an expanded role in my rewrite. She is the child of Skyheart and Reedtail with her sister Pinefur, and the cousin of Reedwhisker!

She was an apprentice on the Great Journey, during which she ended up falling for a Tribe paw. Mint was chased out of RiverClan along with Storm and Brook during the Thistle Law surge that followed WindClan's Rebellion, but came back after the sudden death of Leopardstar.

Ice has always felt like something was suspicious about that death. On one paw, the death of Leopardstar returned her Mintflower, on the other hand... how can it possibly be okay that she had her skull bashed in and Mistystar just becomes leader? With so little investigation?

Skyheart is still around, too, to whisper things in Ice's ear. That Mistystar punished all of Leopardstar's old allies by shuffling apprentices, calling her a tyrant, not to trust her.

She turns to the Dark Forest because Leopardstar is there, and she wants to learn more about her. And she brings Beetlewhisker too.

From there the story is similar; I just built a lot in the blank space. Her son dies and she can't forgive herself for it. She protects other trainees as much as possible.

Though there is a change for two reasons:

Brokenstar is not in the DF for this Rewrite and thus did not kill Beetle. See: Firestar's Quietus

The Dark Forest is not as objectively evil and a lot of the demons are less enthusiastic about attacking the living than canon, so Icewing was speaking for some of them too. Not just younger trainees.

After the Great Battle, Icewing is actually unable to have kits again. She is taking it as a curse, a punishment for endangering Beetlewhisker. Nightkit and Breezekit were stillborn.

Her role opposing the impostor is unchanged, though, her collaborator Harelight is becoming a light in the mist! His name is probably going to be an Honor Title for it; I'm thinking he was called Harefur for AVoS and TBC before that.

(Mistystar likes to name families using matching suffixes. Softpelt, Dappletuft, Harefur. Gorseclaw is cut.)

I don't rewrite arcs until they're complete, so Bonefall ASC is still undecided, but you can see I'm giving Icey-Wi LOTS of setup in preparation.

#Bonefall Icewing #Tempted to steal Moonkitti's fox tail for my design lmao #But i draw my RiverClan cats with having thick rudder tails so hm.#Also she is remaining white while Hare is getting some gray tabby dapples #Minor personal gripe but I don't like having multiple solid color cats in the same clan #Unless I can really distinguish them #Im sure I could but. Still.#Also yeah Halo taking you up on the honor title suggestion for Harelight #Good call #Hallowflight and Harelight. Heroes of RiverClan #Funny that they're a dad and a son #Bonefall OotS

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