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#my mind is as pure as fresh fallen snow

frnkiebby · 1 month

Note

I think Frank has tattoos everywhere and sometimes when I think abt that, I think he has tattoos on his schlong ☹️ but thats okay because it's frank

~talking on this in a purely aesthetic and analytic point of view only~

i don’t think it is. i think his face and dick are the only places he’s not gonna tattoo. idk 🤷🏻 i think he’s gonna leave those two blank.

bc i mean he did that blast over tiger on his chest. so i think if he wants more tattoos he’ll just go over the ones he can. or do little filler tats and shit. ~🎃

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comfortscripts · 6 months

Text

The Way I Love You ¬ Coriolanus Snow

Plot - All you want is one night with Corio, the real him. Pairing - Young!Coriolanus Snow x Best Friend!Female!Reader Notes/Warnings - Corio is ooc in this, but the idea is that he is slightly hinged for her and he is aware of his redflags. Possessive? Mentions of deaths. Reader is lowkey just blind to Corio's darkness. First fic back so let's see how it goes! Word Count - 1,443

9pm

“You promised!”

“And when exactly did I promise this?”

He watched as her fists clenched the corners of her skirt, breath dripping with exasperation. Calmly watching from the comfort of his leather chair, nursing a glass of amber whilst his eyes followed the milky fabric adorning his best-friend’s figure. Almost 30 minutes of her attempting to convince him to leave his opaque penthouse.

“Last year, when you were too busy on my birthday, you promised me that I could choose whatever I wanted to do for one da-” Stilling her movements, frozen as realisation washed over her. “You sneaky fucker! Not once have you forgotten a promise between us.”

Corio wanted to laugh as her face scrunched with faux anger, but all he did was cock his eyebrow as a gentle smirk settled on his lips. “Of course, I didn’t forget. However, this little song and dance has been quite amusing.”

Resting his drink to the side, he rose to full height and reached his delicate hand out towards the girl. “I will agree, purely on the premise that nothing we do could harm either of our reputations.”

A smile brighter than freshly fallen snow crept onto her face.

“You have my word.”

1am

Corio may have noticed the ache in his legs if he didn’t have such a captivating distraction hanging from his bicep. After aimlessly strolling through the Capitol, the myriad of hues illuminating their faces as they spoke of the most mundane aspects of their adult lives to giggling at memories of their youth. Having known one another since the tender age of 10, there is little left unsaid between the pair. Perhaps only one thing.

“I’ve missed you Corio”

Shifting his head to where her figure was pressed against his side, their tandem steps slowed. Only those who understood the inner works of Coriolanus Snow could see the cogs turning behind those azure eyes. Flickering across her face, attempting to decode her words.

“Don’t be silly. We see each other constantly; your office is barely 20 steps from mine.”

The young woman bit back a sigh. In all the years she had known Snow, he excelled in many things but struggled with matters of the heart. “No, I see Coriolanus Snow constantly. Future President of Panem, prodigy Gamemaker. I can barely remember the last time I had a conversation with the real you, Corio, before tonight.”

Stilling completely, allowing her arm to slip from the loop of his. It was a rare occurrence for the young man to be devoid of words, only having ever been rendered speechless by the very same woman only a touch away. In all truthfulness, he yearned for her presence. He longed for the sound of her laughter, the way her eyes sparkled with delight when indulging in dessert, her uncanny ability to understand his thoughts, and most importantly, the way she allowed him to be himself.

He missed her too.

Perhaps it was his silence, or perhaps it was the cool air that unsettled her. Bubbles of anxiety began to rise in her stomach, fearing that she had overstepped or somehow offended the blond. “I only mean that you have sides to you. Whilst I like all of them, the one I care about most is the real you. I’m sorry, but I miss my best friend.”

“I barely know the real me anymore.”

It was truth. Being betrayed by Lucy Gray, the blood on his hands, the character he has had to play since; it was exhausting. The darkness swirling inside of him corrupting his daily thoughts, paranoia and greed clouding his mind. It was all too much to expose to her.

She embodied life, a breath of fresh air in a world torn apart by capitalism and violence. Coriolanus could never understand why she cared for him, why she befriended him. But he could never jeopardise losing her. The darker side of him wishes to lock her up in the Penthouse, so her sun only shines for him. Keep away the prying eyes of men who wish to glimpse the sweetness of her smile. But alas, he cannot. An innocent fragment of his soul forbids his darkness from tainting her, even if he must create distance to do so.

“After all that has happened, the Corio you know barely exists anymore.” Those stormy eyes refusing to meet her gaze by fixating on the gleaming silver ring adoring his finger. “If only you knew, you wouldn’t look at me the same.”

The warmth of her hand sliding into his captures his focus. “If only I knew about what happened during the games? If only I knew about Lucy Gray, and those people you killed? If only I knew how dark your soul feels? I know Corio.”

Snapping to meet her gaze, he feels as if she had knocked the air out of his lungs. How could she possibly know? Why would she be standing here with him? Was she going to hold this over him? A flurry of thoughts stormed behind his eyes, as she only tightened her hold on his large hand.

“Did you really think you could lie to me? I know you better than I know myself. When you came back from District 12, I could see behind those lies you were spewing. I saw the hurt she caused, the trauma you had witnessed, and how it broke the light inside of you.”

For the second time tonight, Coriolanus was speechless. Perhaps she didn’t know whose blood coats his hands, or the exact details of what happened those years ago, but she knew enough. And she was still standing there in front of him.

“And you still care about me?”

“I will always care about you Corio. Now come on, I want to take you somewhere!”

And with that, she pulled him further into the night.

2:45am

Neither of them had uttered a word since their conversation.

Laid side by side on the refreshing emerald blades of grass as they look towards the stars above, only their subtle breathing filling the air. Despite the silence, the interlocked fingers expressed a thousand words.

A hitched breath broke the still atmosphere of the hilltop.

“Do you love me?”

Her words stopped his heart mid-beat.

“What? Of course, I love you. You are my best friend.” His words flow smoothly, as his thoughts run erratically to concoct the perfect lie.

The grass shuffles as she turns her head to face him. “No, do you love me like I love you?”

Corio continues staring straight towards the constellations, knowing that her alluring eyes could weaken his resolve in mere seconds.

“Because the way I love you is more than someone who loves a best friend. Almost as if you are the only person who makes my heart dizzy with joy. If you don’t love me the same way, it’s okay. Just needed to finally tell you.”

The breeze acts as a ticking clock, emphasising the lack of response from the young man and amplifying the anxiety building in the woman as she faces the stars once more.

Its almost too quiet to be heard, a whisper in the wind, but she hears it clearly. “I do love you the way you love me.”

Turning in unison to face one another, his free hand reaching to caress the toasty skin of her cheek. Gentle strokes of his chilled fingers, drawing without destination on her skin as the blond builds the courage to speak once more.

“The way I love you terrifies me. You are the only one who brings me happiness, the only one who knows my sorrows, the only one I would sacrifice for. I obsess over you. I want to hold you and protect you. I wish to possess you. All because I love you the way you love me.”

Searching his irises for any fragment of dishonesty, her smile grows as she finds none. Inching closer to the man who has held her heart for a decade, his minty breath invading her senses.

With lips mere millimetres apart, a light whisper leaves her mouth “I’ll be yours Corio, for as long as you are mine. We can possess one another.”

As if those were the only words he ever craved, he intertwined his lips with hers. Soaking in the feeling of ecstasy as his hold on her tightens. She embraced the overwhelming sensation of complete bliss, revelling in every single second as her fingers interlock with his porcelain-locks.

Her lips fit with his so perfectly, it was clear that they were made to possess each other. And now that Panem’s king had his Queen, nothing could break him.

#coriolanus snow #coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus x reader #president snow x reader #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #coriolanus snow imagine #the hunger games #tbosas #tom blyth x reader

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cryinginmyroomsposts · 4 months

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Maybe - Jeongin

Pairing: Yang Jeongin x Reader

tags: fluff, friends to lovers, unrequited love, best friend Jeongin, winter weather, angsty yearning

a/n: not proofread, just trying to live my delusions through writing (I am hopelessly down the rabbit hole)

masterlist

"Be careful. It's slippery." It's the bare minimum and you are aware of that but the tumble your stomach takes and the giddiness in your heart indicate that you definitely did not get it.

Jeongin came into your life like a Manhattan wind- strong, surprising and mind-boggling. He changed the course of your life in an abhorrently short time. Everything about him screamed your type, especially that damned dimple. And you were so hopelessly in love that the fact that he insists on referring to you as his "bestest friend" almost every day breaks your heart and stitches it right back up.

You watch as he brushes his hair away from his face, those smooth dark black fringes framing his face as he breathes out fog in winter. You have been admiring his features, his beauty and all of him since the wind was a welcome change to the heat. Now the wind sends a chill down your spine and you hug yourself a little tighter.

He leads the way, looking around excitedly like a kid. The frozen lake forms a scenery of serenity and calm unknown to the ever turbulent heart of yours. Winters have always been rough on you, the cold can be cruel to those without enough layers to keep them warm. This one might be different. Or so you hope.

"Y/N, stop dreaming and keep walking. Eyes on the ground." Jeongin tries his best to sound stern but the concern drips sweetness from his voice.

"Shut up, Jeongin. I'm completely fin-AH!" As luck would have it, right as you finished the sentence you stepped on some fresh ice and slipped. Giving up on pretending to be graceful, you let yourself fall flat on your ass.

"Go ahead and tell me 'told you so'", you groan, lowering your voice for the last three words in an exaggerated imitation of Jeongin's voice. Looking up you notice that Jeongin looks like he's having a seizure from all the laughing he is doing. You begin to pout, but the view is too good to even be embarrassed or disappointed.

His fox eyes are crinkled into two straight lines, dimples deep and cheeks flushed bright red. He's bending over in laughter, looking up and down, pushing away his fringe from his face. The big coat envelopes him, the sun sinking into the water behind him. Jeongin is a sight for sore eyes even on a regular day, but a Jeongin radiating pure bliss is a full-on painting you could sit and admire for days on end.

"Yaa! What are you staring at? Get up before you freeze to death." His voice brings you back to reality and suddenly the snow under you starts to make its temperature known and you get up as fast as possible.

Dusting the snow off you and straightening your clothes, you walk to join Jeongin who is a few steps ahead of you staring at the scenery.

"When will you stop falling Y/N..." He jokes silently.

You make it impossible to not fall every second I am with you.

"Only if you ever leave..." you say silently.

He turns to you with a questioning look and you smile as you shake your head and look at the impending sunset against the snow-covered park.

Maybe he'll never know how hard you have fallen for him. Maybe Jeongin will wake up one summer day realising that the sparkle in your eyes and the blush on your cheeks was not the winter's fault. Maybe he will fall with you one day. And maybe one day, your thoughts won't just be filled with maybe's. But for now, he's here. That's all that matters. You have him in your life, you get to love someone as radiant as the summer sun and as calming as the midnight moon. You have Jeongin. That's enough. "Innie, shall we go?"

"After you, Milady."

The sound of giggles fills the dense winter air as a boy and a girl walk side by side, unaware of how much they love each other in silence.

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jeremy-ken-anderson · 6 months

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Edith Snaps

"You couldn't possibly be claiming I am the only one who had access to these documents, could you? Rhynon was the original writer, and other staff use the same office space. And mother, Rhyse, and I all looked at this document together."

Duke Rudwick twitched in irritation. "Are you trying to put the blame on our family and staff? Edith Rigelhof."

Edith slapped the sheaf of papers loudly on the couch next to her. "Rudwick. There is nobody named Edith Rigelhof living in this household. Indeed, as of my wedding it is possible there is nobody named Edith Rigelhof in the entire world."

"What manner of foolish technicality are-"

"My name is Edith Rudwick. If you're going to accuse me of a crime, the bare minimum you can do is get my name right. What is Rhyse's family name? Is she Rhyse Rudwick?"

"You are overstepping your-" Duke Rudwick began hotly, as anyone would. Rhyse was pure as fresh-fallen snow and anything that impugned her honor was naturally villainous.

"Is it overstepping my bounds to ask that I be called by the name you gave me, Father? Is it really?" He could say nothing to that. Propriety would not allow it. Edith sighed. "This is doubly frustrating. The first reason I expect is obvious to you. I am frustrated because I have been accused. I'd say 'because I've been falsely accused,' but to be honest I doubt I'd be any less frustrated with that part if I were guilty. Nobody likes an accusation, guilty or innocent. But the other frustration is only happening because I am innocent."

"What are you going on about now?"

"You say you proved my guilt by putting false information into the documents I was handling and watching Count Rigelhof respond to information he shouldn't have had. But you didn't prove my guilt. What you proved is that there is a Rigelhof spy present. Now imagine a fantastical world in which I'm actually innocent of this crime. Please. Just for a moment. What would be the other frustration nagging at my mind?"

To his credit, Edith's husband spoke up. "You think the real culprit will escape."

Edith nodded. "Honestly this entire accusation seems terribly wasteful on your part. What do you gain?" She sighed. "Well. I suppose if you convict me you can use my alleged crimes to threaten Count Rigelhof..."

At this, Duke Rudwick flinched again. Edith didn't believe he'd planned it, but she could see him considering the risks anew. If things went wrong with the accusation, it might appear he'd forged the charges for political gain. As a family obsessed with honor the Rudwicks couldn't be seen flirting with impropriety.

"Still, it seems like you could have gained much more by making Count Rigelhof continue dancing to your tune awhile. All you had to do was keep the spy in the dark...HA."

Her husband's face was a mask of genuine concern, so Edith wondered if the smile at her realization looked unhinged to him. She felt a little unhinged; weirdly ecstatic.

"You can! Because I'm innocent, you can! As long as Rhynon here is not the spy - and I don't know of any reason he would be - Count Rigelhof's spy doesn't know that the spying has been discovered! We put me under house arrest, on any charge but spying. I don't care about some temporary claim. Say I was violent with Rhyse if you must. Or I have some contagious disease! Only Rhynon or my doting husband delivering me meals outside my door a few times a day, and even then with gloves and a mask. Quarantine would be a good enough reason not to allow the maids near me. Then you repeat the trick! Let slip some important product it's imperative the Rudwicks be able to purchase enough of, in the ledgers you're having to work without my help. Count Rigelhof will learn of it through his actual spy. And he'll act on it immediately. I can't imagine him thinking he has an advantage and then not acting on it. He's kind of stupid that way."

Duke Rudwick scoffed. "You expect us to believe you would betray your own family?"

Edith smiled at him. It was sad and warm all at once. "As I have said, I am Edith Rudwick. You are my family. So, no. I won't."

#not your typical reincarnation story #fanfiction #webtoon

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vileviale · 6 months

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The first paragraph of my novel! (Rough draft of course)

It was the second sleepless night for Anise, and she was desperately trying trying not to look out the window.

She had forced her eyes to stare up at the boards that held her sister’s top bunk for quite some time, but the nagging feeling in the back of her mind wouldn’t leave. It had come with the insomnia, and every day it grew louder and louder, though it wasn’t exactly a voice. It was a purely instinctual urge, an urge to throw open the window, jump out onto the fresh-fallen snow, and walk away from everything until she collapsed. She knew what this feeling was- every Tullox did- though here at school they could only whisper it in hushed tones while the teacher wasn’t looking. It was called the Ismatiel: a transformation singular to the Tullox and that came just at the beginning of adolescence. It was a highly celebrated point in life- at least Anise heard that it used to be. Now it was the greatest difference that kept her from at least pretending to be Angian. Maybe, if she kept her eyes on the boards above her, maybe if she counted the knots in the wood for the hundredth time- she’d wake up feeling perfectly fine.

#Lemme know what y’all think and if you want to read more later on!

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thesugarclubs-blog · 8 months

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Mirror Mirror - AU Bucky Barnes x OC

warnings: reverse snow white au, fairytale au, snow white Bucky & princess OC, pure fluff

word count: 9k

WP: https://www.wattpad.com/1381215967-mirror-mirror-florence

Masterlist

Once upon a time, in a kingdom far far away, nestled deep within the tall evergreen trees sat a small stone cottage.The roof was made of wood and straw with a garden of wild flowers lining the dirt pathway heading towards a large wooden front door. White smoke billowed from the chimney and the smell of fresh apple pie wafted through the forest with the faint sound whistling.

A man spun by the open window, singing softly to himself as he moved the broom over the grey stone floor. James smiled softly as a small chickadee landed on his shoulder and whistled along with him.

“Do you mind? I have to finish sweeping while dinner rests! The boys will be home from work soon,” he commented, using one hand to take the small bird onto his finger and set him onto the window sill.

With a small shake of his head, James balanced the broom on his shoulder in order to scoop his long dark hair into a bun that rested on the back of his neck. He wiped the sweat from his forehead with the edge of his white tunic and moved over the dark ceramic pot hung over a smoldering fire.

Looking into the pot James checked to make sure the stew was simmering nicely. Taking the long wooden spoon that rested to the side of the pot he stirred the stew around to make sure that none of it got stuck to the bottom and got burned. Taking out a little spoon from the pocket of his tunic James took a taste of the stew.

“Hmmm. Just perfect, I think it will be finished just in time for them when they come home” James smiled, turning to smile at the bird that was still resting on the window sill. It chirped in response.

"No," James shook his head, "there's enough salt this time."

The bird stomped on the sill, trilling into the air.

"That's nonsense," he rolled his eyes and tasted the stew again, keeping his eyes on the bird who watched him. A long mocking birdsong filling the air as James brows pinched together. "Okay, it needs a little more salt."

The bird chirped again. “I know, I know.” James sighed, “You were right. I was wrong.” James agreed to his little friend in defeat as he turned around to place eight little bowls onto the big wooden table.

As if he could tell, he heard his friends arguing from a distance.

Their familiar voices and playful bickering were unmistakable, and it brought a warm smile to James's face. It was a comforting sound, a testament to the strong bond they all shared–

“I can’t believe you ruined my favorite dungaree,” the door suddenly swung open, startling both James and the small bird who, huffing and puffing, flew out. “Your damn giant hands, Steven!”

“C’mon, Tony! Don’t be dramatic, it’s not like I did it on purpose!”

"It might as well have been! Why did you pull me back so hard?" Tony whined.

James saw Sam hold back a laugh at his brothers' argument as they all slowly trickled in, to which James shot him a playful glare.

"The rocks would have fallen over your giant head, otherwise!" Steve huffed in annoyance. He always meant well but his brother was not able to always see reason. Tony was as stubborn as the rocks of the mines they dug.

"Oh my god, will you two shut up? We get it," Clint rolled his eyes as he dropped his sack to the ground and moved around his bickering family.

Sam strolled over to the fire, lifting the lid of the stew and took in a big whiff, "Leave them alone, they're always like this when they're hungry,"

James smacked the wooden spoon onto the back of his brothers and shook his head, "All of you go wash up first and then we can eat"

The chaos that ensued everytime the family got home was one of James' favourite moments of his day. Sure, the quiet cottage was nice during the day when he needed to get things done but eventually it grew too quiet around him. Thoughts of the nights he'd spent alone in the forest before they took him in crept in from the edges of his mind but once his boys were safe at home, those memories disappeared once more, allowing a soft smile to tug at the edges of his lips.

A throat cleared behind him and he looked down to find Thor standing there, his hands hidden behind his back and a knowing smile on his face.

“Found another one for you,” he rumbled from beneath his thick blond beard and brought his clenched fist forwards.

James held out his hand and Thor deposited the heavy crystal into his palm. James almost squealed with excitement and leaned over to wrap his arms around Thor’s stout frame.

“Thank you Thor!” He breathed excitedly and hurried over to the window.

Finding a place on the frame for the clear crystal, James sighed happily as the sunlight refracted through it, casting rainbows across the opposite wall of the cottage.

Chairs scraped across James’ freshly cleaned floors as the seven of them finished washing up. They settled at the table, leaving the seat at the top for James.

“This looks delicious,” Steve beamed, as James set down a steaming loaf of bread in the center and turned back to the stove to dish up more stew.

“You think everything looks delicious, Steve,” Clint grunted, rolling his eyes.

“Because it does, James is an excellent cook!”

James grinned in thanks across the table where he was setting down a bowl in front of Natasha, her cheek smushed into her hand as her eyelids drooped. Tony nudged her gently with his elbow.

“Look alive, Nat.”

Nat shook her head quickly, swatting her hand out at Tony. “I’m awake, I was just resting my eyes a little. “The stew looks delicious as always. James,” Nat yawned as she leaned across the table and grabbed the knife by the bread and cut off a slice.

“Can we please eat… I’m really hungry” Loki said, playing with his spoon looking down at his bowl of stew with a longing look in his eye.

"Go on then," James winked at him, knowing that if he didn't give the okay Loki would sit pouting.

They all dug in without hesitation, the sounds of spoons scraping bowls and the soft satisfied moans filling the cottage.

"Breathe Thor," Steve warned, as Thor inhaled his stew in four disgusting bites. "There's always more!"

“It’s so good, though!”, Thor said, his mouth full with stew. “I could bathe in this food.”

“That’s disgusting.” Clint looked annoyed to his left, where Thor was seated with a big smile and remains of stew on his face.

“Language!” Steve pointed his finger at Clint happily.

“That’s actually not a bad word, Steve.” James leaned in and whispered into Steve's ear.

“Oh,” he responded a little embarrassed but continued eating

With their bellies full and the cozy cottage illuminated by the soft glow of candles, the family's evening continued in a familiar rhythm. After dinner, they gathered around the hearth, where the flames crackled and danced in the stone fireplace.

James began to tell one of his incredible tales, weaving a world of knights and magical creatures, some forged from fantastic metal. He recited the story of heroes battling incredible evil as all seven brothers found themselves captured by the grand gestures of his wrists, the dramatic flair in his voice and even Nat that night took her time trailing off on her usual spot on the armchair.

As the night wore on, and the firelight flickered, they all felt the deep contentment that came from being surrounded by the love of family and the magic of their kingdom far, far away. The enchanting forest whispered its secrets in the moonlit night, a silent witness to their cherished moments, a testament to the extraordinary life they had created together.

***

The forest was peaceful and serene, the warmth of the morning light shining through the trees and bathed the path in an emerald-tinged glow. It was exactly what Florence needed.

Clicking her tongue and tugging on the reins, she urged her horse, Alpine, deeper into the verdant greenwood. She breathed deeply once, and then again, letting the tension drain from her shoulders. Long had she yearned to escape the confines of the castle and the burden of royal life.

She tilted her head slightly as a sound filtered through the trees, one she would not have expected to hear. A deep, resonant voice carried a melody so sweet it piqued her curiosity and, tugging on Alpine’s reigns once more, she guided her noble steed in the direction of the alluring voice.

As she ducked beneath branches, traveling further into the blanket of green, the voice grew louder, stronger with each note.

Shielding her eyes from the sun as she came to a small clearing, Florence searched the area until she found the source of the voice. Crouched beside a hedgerow, plucking berries with careful thought, was quite possibly the most gorgeous man she’d ever seen.

His dark hair glistened in the sun, loose and draping across one shoulder, giving her a glorious view of his stubbled cheek and sharp jaw.

Florence slowed Alpine, staying hidden a little behind the trunk of an old oak as she watched the man work, filling a wicker basket by his feet.

She watched him picking through as he bent over searching through the grass and occasionally pulling something out and placing it into the wicker basket. He continued to sing as he worked. The birds in the trees seemed to know the tune that he was singing and began to join in. Soon the branches were filled with birds chirping along.

Florence watched in amazement as she saw a rabbit hop into the clearing getting slowly closer to the man. The man noticed the rabbit and slowly held out his hand.

“Why hello there. How are you doing today?” he asked as the rabbit came up and sniffed his hand.

A smile played on her lips, the grown man was barely contained beneath a white tunic and dark blue vest. His yellow trousers strained about his thighs in protest to his knelt position and his dark hair pushed back by a thick red ribbon.

"Would you like to share?" He asked the rabbit, who seemed to curl into his touch.

The small rabbit seemed to respond to his words, moving towards the basket and plucking out a few of the berries that sat nestled into the whicker, pulling another soft chuckle from the mans plump lips.

"Not to many," she heard him say, shooing the small creature lightly, "These have to make pies for the boys and you know how they can eat"

The boys Florence thought, tilting her head to the side. Were there more mysteriously good looking men trasping around this far into the forest? Maybe that had been her problem. Only being presented to men in the kingdom instead of looking farther out. Not that she herself has been looking, but her father always made it seem like she needed someone to take care of her.

Urging Alpine slowly forward, the dark haired princess made her way out into the grass, clearing her throat softly so as to not startle the man before her, "Hey!" Florence called, "what are you doing out here?" she asked, curiously.

The man looked up sharply and the little gray rabbit darted in between his feet, peering around one of his shapely calves with a curious expression, it’s whiskers twitching nervously.

“It’s alright, Rocket. I’m sure this lady means no harm,” the man reassured, although he eyed the sword fastened to Florence’s hip with no small amount of suspicion.

“I am simply collecting berries and plums, Lady. They make the best pies and my family does tend to need a lot of feeding,” he replied, his voice rumbling deliciously through the clearing.

"You live in the woods, you and your family?" Florence asked, tilting her head curiously. The man nods, eying her with a wary gaze still despite his soft, confident words to the creature at his feet.

"Yes, a little cottage not far from here. My family, brothers and sister, they work down at the mine."

Florence nodded, a gentle smile on her lips, as she studied the man. There was no denying she wanted to know more about him, to learn what else made his blue eyes shine the way they did as he spoke to the rabbit.

"What's your name?"

"You ask a lot of questions," the man replied, his tone teasing as he stood to his feet, "why should I tell you?"

“Well normally when someone asks you your name the polite thing to do is to tell them. At least that’s what I’ve been taught” Florence responds stepping a little further into the clearing. Alpine followed closely behind her lightly nudging her shoulder.

The man chuckled a little and smiled, the smile reaching his eyes and his nose scrunching up a bit.

Florence couldn't help but smile at his own.

"I tell you what," he leaned down to pick up the basket of berries and folded his hands over the handle as he squared his shoulders, "I'll tell you mine if you tell me yours."

It was then she noticed how broad he was. His shoulders were wide with arms that would put any other woodsman to shame. The front of his tunic seemed to strain over his chest as he stood watching her with curious lake blue eyes. Alpine huffed behind her, nudging his nose into her back forcing a soft chuckle to leave her lips.

"I suppose that seems fair." She smiled, "you first."

The man tilted his head back and laughed, "I may have been raised in the woods, but I'm not a complete fool. Ladies first," he waved his hand out in front of him, gesturing for her to go.

"A baker and a gentleman," she quirked a brow.

"I do more than bake Sunshine." He grinned cheekily.

Florence tried to bite back the smirk that tugged at her lips, rolling her eyes and crossing her arms over her chest, "Down boy," she cocked her eyebrow, "I'm Florence. Your turn."

"Florence" the man repeated, tilting his head to the side, his blue eyes scanning over her features, "I'm James, but my family calls me Bucky"

The small rabbit appeared once more, tapping it's small paw onto James' leg, causing him to glance down and huff, "And this is Rocket"

Florence beamed even wider and crouched down, holding her hand out and rubbing her fingers together.

“Greetings Rocket, it’s an honor to meet such a fine looking rabbit as yourself.”

The rabbit hopped over to Florence’s outstretched hand and touched his little nose tentatively to the tips of her fingers.

A huff from behind her elicited a chuckle from James and she looked up to see him leaning over and whispering in Alpine’s ear whilst stroking a large yet gentle hand down the horse’s neck.

“I apologize,” she began. “This is…”

“Alpine, yes, I know. And apparently you two haven’t eaten since dawn.” James raised an amused eyebrow at her dumbfounded expression.

“Well, it seems you’re already acquainted with my hungry friend.”

Alpine huffed again, head butting gently against James’ hand.

“Yes, yes. I’m getting there,” he laughed. “Florence, would you be so kind as to join me for lunch?”

Florence met James’ gaze, a smile spreading across her lips. She was sure she was taught something about strangers as a child but when one was as endearing and handsome as James, well…

“That depends,” she replied, “will I get to taste this delicious sounding pie you’re going to make?”

James grinned at her in response. “Of course” he said

“Our cottage is just through the trees back here. My family are down the mines at the moment, but they will be back soon for some food. They are a bit of a rowdy bunch just letting you know.” James said turning around and walking across the clearing with rocket hopping along beside him.

Before Florence could respond Alpine began to follow behind James with a slight spring in his step. It hit Florence then what James had known her horse’s name and that they hadn’t eaten sine dawn.

“Wait… can you actually talk to animals!?” She called racing to catch up with James. “Like understand what they are saying?”

“Yeah…you can’t?” James asked, a frown forming on his face that turned into a light grin. Even though he was being sarcastic, Florence had to admit that his smile was addicting.

“How?” Now she was the one smiling as she caught up with James, Alpine, and Rocket.

James shrugged in response, “I don’t know, actually. I like to believe it’s a gift. I feel some kind of trust between us like I have a special bond with animals. It’s hard to explain.”

Florence nodded as she understood. “So you are a crazy person?” she said, making James stop. He looked at her like she said something wrong, but then he burst out into laughter.

"Crazy about sweet berries maybe," He smiled at her, running his hand along Alpine's neck, "but mostly sane in every other way."

"Mostly?"

James smirked, "I live with seven siblings, would you be completely sane?"

Florence's eyes bugged wide, "Seven!? How do you get anything done?"

"They spend most of their days down at the mines, gives me some quiet time during the daylight." James said with a beaming smile, "It's my responsibility to take care of them and there's a great pride in growing and cooking delicious food for the ones you care for."

“That’s a nice sentiment, how you care for your family,” Florence could see how much he loved his family with all his being. That love radiated from him every time he mentioned his family.

They fell into a lovely silence as they walked towards his home. Her stomach grumbling loudly enough for it to be heard across the forest.

“Hungry?” James says laughing at her and her stomach. “Luckily for you, we’re here.”

As the small stone cottage came into view, Florence allowed herself to pause and take in the scene before her. The contrast between her palace and the house nested in the trees before her took her back just for a moment. A sense of peace and comfort washed over her and a small smile found its way onto her lips.

"So eight of you live here?" She questioned, following James' lead up the pathway.

James hummed and nodded, chuckling lightly, "It's a bit tight but we make it work. Honestly, there's no other place I'd rather be"

Florence took in a small breath of the fresh pine air, and hooked Alpines reins over the wooden hitching post that sat to the left of the front door. Aside from the woodland creatures, she found herself wondering if they had many visitors or horses hidden somewhere. Maybe it was a habit of his bringing women he met in the woods back to his cottage, claiming he had pie and a deep love for his family.

"It's cozy and sweet," she smiled once more, following him through the lard wooden door.

The main room of the cottage was a refreshingly cool contrast against the heat of the morning sun and Florence sighed deeply. It smelled of pine, soap, and…home.

There was a large wooden table with eight chairs around it, right easy chairs surrounded a large stone hearth, and a wooden staircase led up to what Florence assumed was a second floor.

She gasped in delight at the twinkling rainbows that were cast across the back wall of the room and she found herself lifting her arms and twirling slowly around. Laughing in delight as the spectrums danced across her skin she halted as Alpine let out a deep whinny.

“Don’t be mean, Alpine,” James admonished quietly. “Everyone needs moments of joy in their life.”

He quieted the rambunctious horse by reaching over to the vegetable bin and pulling out a carrot. He offered it to an eager Alpine, who snapped it up with a huff of thanks.

"Yes, Alpine, don't be mean," Florence repeated, coming to a halt and standing with her hands on her hips. She heard James chuckle softly behind her and flashed him a beaming smile over her shoulder.

"Make yourself at home," James offered, gesturing to a cosy looking armchair in the corner. It looked well-loved, like the rest of the cottage, rough around the edges but so well cared for.

Florence made a beeline for the seat, sinking into the soft cushion as she watched James separate and wash the freshly picked fruit.

He moved through the small cooking area gracefully, like he'd danced his way through it a million times before and she got the feeling that he probably had. Every once in a while those blue eyes glanced up at her with a soft smile when he found she was watching and it only spread the soft thrum of butterflies in her chest throughout her limbs.

"I don't see many women ride through these woods alone," he blurted after a few moments, "matter of fact, I don't see any women ride through these woods."

Florence smiled, "So there's no secret lair teeming with damsels in distress you've saved?"

James huffed out a laugh and shook his head as he moved on to inspecting a batch of plums, "Even if there was, you think I'd give away my secrets?"

"Crazy and possibly murderous," She grinned, "I've hit gold with you."

She could see the faintest blush spread across his cheeks and beneath his stubble at her remark.

"I don't know 'bout gold, but I'd like to believe that I'm good company," he told her with a hint of shyness in his tone. She watched as he put together a plate of berries and plums and turned to walk in her direction and extended it to her.

"At least before I lure you to my secret lair, m'lady," he ended with a mischievous smirk and a wink thrown her way.

Florence couldn't help the huff of delighted laughter that left her at that, relishing in the light feeling filling her as she shared a light banter with James. Even more so when he laughed sweetly along with her with a red tinge still tinting his cheeks.

“Oh, so this isn’t your secret lair, then?” Florence couldn’t help going along with this playful banter. She didn’t really believe that a person like him, that had the ability to speak with animals, would do something bad to her. Unless, you know, he used said ability to ask the animals to be part of his craziness and lure damsels in distress to his lair.

“Now, why would I lead a lady into this cozy cottage where my family lives only to murder her?” James had a twinkle in his eyes while he said that.

With a light chuckle, Florence shrugged and shook her head, "I'm note sure, you're the criminal mastermind here, not me" she joked, popping a berry into her mouth.

James' laugh echoed out through the cottage as he moved back through the kitchen to assemble the pie he kept bragging about. Silence fell over them once more, her hazel eyes watched him worked, taking note of a small red cardinal that sat perched in the window.

"She's just a guest," she heard him mutter before the bird chirped back at him, "you can go now, Redwing," he muttered once more, moving his gaze over towards her as drifting sunlight caught his ocean blue eyes.

“Where do you hail from, Florence?” James asked, breaking her out of her reverie.

“I, umm, I live on the far edge of the forest,” she replied hesitantly, and James’ eyes narrowed slightly before he smiled at her once more.

“Then you must definitely be hungry, having traveled so far,” he said, and with a courtly swoop, placed a plate before her piled with bread, cheese and some of the berries. “We’ll have to wit a little longer for the pie,” he admitted, although the enticing scents of warm berries and sweet pastry were already creeping through the cottage.

“Thank you,” she said, gratefully, and pushed the plate between them in an offer to share.

She took some of the bread and placed a piece of cheese on top of it. Taking a bite she sighed. “Hmmm, this bread is amazing. Probably some of the best I’ve ever had. Did you also bake this?” She asked, taking another bite of the food. The bread was light and fluffy and the crust had a satisfying crunch to it.

“Thank you, yes I also baked the bread. Since we live quite deep in the forrest I make a lot of our food. We rarely head to any of the surrounding villages… when we do it’s mainly for delivering what my brothers and sister collect from the mines. I mostly stay here though” James said, taking a seat across from her and picking up a plum from the plate and taking bite out of it.

"What were you doing so deep in the forest anyway?" He questioned, as he examined the purple fruit in his hand.

With a soft hum, Florence shrugged unsure on how to actually answer that question without giving away her status. The truth was she wasn't built for the life her father wanted for her. She wanted to do more than sit around and look pretty when she knew the kingdom across the dark forest was suffering. The king would tell her how dangerous it was in the woods and how that kingdom had fallen under evil rule when the prince disappeared, yet still, deep within herself, Florence knew there had to be a way for her to fix it.

She sucked in a deep breath and shook her head once, realizing she had been lost in thought, " I just went out for a morning ride. Alpine needed to stretch his legs and riding around our village wasn't really cutting it, so we went a little farther than expected but it seems to have worked out for us," she smiled, taking another bite of the bread.

“I think not just for you,” James said, a soft blush painting his cheeks.

They stared at each other a moment before James cleared his throat and looked bashfully away.

“I…I need to check the pie,” he stammered, rising from the table and heading over to the oven as he wrapped a cloth around his hand for protection.

When he opened the door a waft of spiced heat filled the room and even Alpibne whickered from his place at the window.

“Be patient, big fella,” James laughed. “It’s still too hot, even for you.”

Florence watched in admiration as James placed the large pie dish on the table and cut two slices and then a third small sliver, which he put onto plates. He collected an earthenware jug from which he poured a generous helping of cream over the two lives and then set the third plate at the window.

“Blow on it first,” he instructed and Alpine did so, huffing on his little treat so dramatically that Florence feared he would blow it clean off the plate.

At a nod from James, the horse snaffled down the pie and James then joined Florence at the table, still chuckling at the horse’s antics. He slid one plate in front of Florence and then handed her a spoon. She took a generous scoop, making sure to blow on the steaming mouthful although not quite as dramatically as Alpine and then placed it in her mouth.

She took a bite and let out a satisfied moan. “Oh my… this pie is amazing” she said before digging back into the pie. She heard James chuckle as he watched her eat her slice of pie.

“So what about you? Where are you and your family from or have you always lived in the woods?” She asked looking up at him after eating a good portion of her slice. She noticed how he stilled at her question before slowly putting his spoon down his eyes darting to look out the window.

“I-”. James sighed, “I’m sure you don’t want to hear that.” He slowly shook his head and looked down at the wooden floor.

“I do,” Florence said, slowly taking James’ hand into hers. She didn’t want to overstep a line, but she could also feel that James needed some sort of comfort.

“Okay,” he smiled softly. “I was younger when I came here. I don’t know much about that night it all happened, but…one day, a man brought me into the woods. We walked until the sun had set. I didn’t know who sent him, and at that time, I didn’t know why, but the older I got, I knew his purpose. He was out here to end my life.” James paused before he continued, “He couldn’t do it, so he left me to die in the woods. I survived day and night before finding this little cottage. At first, I thought it was an old empty house, but then I met these six boys and one girl, and it almost felt like all of this happened for a reason. Because if that man hadn’t let me live, I wouldn’t have found my family.” He smiled as he looked around the cottage, his eyes stopping at the eight chairs around the kitchen table.

“Oh, James,” Florence mumbled. She didn’t know what to say other than ‘I’m sorry’ but those words cannot convey anything other than emptiness. Because how do you express that you are sorry that the person didn’t die-that they survived- a situation like that?

“It’s okay,” James whispered, as if knowing what she wanted to say.

“Do you know who sent that man? Florence asks with determination in her voice, as if she might go this instant and punish the person that tried to take away a soul as pure as his.

James looks away from her, but she catches the sadness in his eyes. It’s a sadness so deep that it tugged at her heart, “I don’t know. It’s heartbreaking to think that there is a person out there that has the type of hatred to want another person to just take away like that.”

Florence knew he was struggling to come to terms with that because this man, who clearly is the most fairest person she has ever encountered, has lived through unimaginable things and, despite everything, still wants to believe that there is still some goodness in this world.

A comfortable silence fell through the cabin as the two of them sat there, in the confessions. The afternoon sun brought a certain glow through the crystal and illuminated everything in it's path. James' company mixed with the fresh pine air drifting in with the breeze was a new experience for Florence. She could stay in this moment, in this place forever if she was given the option. To not have to return to the confinds of the palace walls was secretly what she'd wanted for a long time.

Florence cleared her throat and moved to stand up, catching the orange glow in her hazel eyes as the sinking sun brought her attention to how late it had gotten. "I should go," she said quickly, bringing her plate into the kitchen.

James followed her movements, and grabbed her hand lightly before she could make it out the door, "Wait, will I see you again?"

With a small sigh and a soft smile, she looked up to meet his eyes as she nodded, "Tomorrow. In the clearing we met in this morning,"

The man nodded in response and brought the back of her hand up to his lips, kissing it gently, "Tomorrow it is,"

With that, Florence made her way out to Alpine and untied his reins, mounting him quickly. She glanced back at the handsome man leaning in the doorway of the stone cottage before kicking Alpine into a gallop through the trees on their way back to the palace.

The next morning Florence rushed out of the great hall and down to the kitchens with her mouth still stuffed full of bread. She threw some food and a ceramic bottle of ale into a sack and almost ran to the stables.

“Woah there, Princess, where are you going in such a hurry?” The Head Steward asked as she nearly ran him down.

“Iiiiiit’s such a nice day I thought I’d take Alpine for a ride,” she squeaked breathlessly, bouncing impatiently on her heels.

“You have duties to attend to, your Highness,” he admonished, but the Princess pretended not to hear him as she bolted off.

She felt a little guilty for pushing Alpine as hard as she did in her eagerness to reach the clearing where she had met James the day before. She knew she was early but there was still a pang of disappointment when she arrived and James was nowhere to be seen. There was a little red bird however, who looked remarkably like the one she’d seen the day before. Feeling a little foolish she cocked her head and spoke.

“Redwing?” She asked and almost laughed in relief when the bird twittered and hopped over to her.

“Hi, hello, I, ummmm, I don’t know if you remember me from yesterday but I’ve come to see James. Is he around?”

The bird looked at her and tilted its head this way and that but made no response.

“You know, James? Tall, blue eyes, sings, bakes? Ummm, oh, he said his family called him Bucky?”

At the last the bird let out a series of whistles, bobbed up and down a few times, before taking off in what Florence thought she remembered as the way to the cottage. It wasn’t long before she heard footsteps and a melodious humming hurrying along the path.

James looked up at the sound of her approaching, the brightest smile blooming across his face, eyes glistening in the sun.

“There you are!” He called cheerily, tucking the handle of his basket into the crook of his elbow. “I was starting to think you weren’t going to show.”

His words were laced with a chuckle and he bound towards her as Florence stepped forward to meet him.

“What delights have you been picking today?” She asked, peering into his basket.

“I noticed there are boysenberries growing on the bramble through the clearing,” James explained, “I was just about to finish up with this hedgerow of raspberries before you arrived.”

James offered up the basket and Florence plucked a raspberry from the wicker, popping it into her mouth with a delighted hum.

“Well, I would love to help,” she replied softly, “I don’t forage much but it seems like a lovely way to spend the afternoon.”

“I’ll show you how to find the best berries then. Just follow me” he smiled leading the way down a narrow path that was lined with boysenberry bushes.

“So what you need to do is look for the berries that are dark purple and fall right into your hand when you gently tug at them. I always pick from the middle branches of the bush because the top branches are for the birds and the bottom branches are for the rabbits. And I always make sure to leave enough for any other animals that might come by.” James smiled at her showing extremely how to pluck the most scrumptious berries.

“That’s very thoughtful of you. I don’t think anyone would think about leaving some for the animals,” she said with a hint of wonder in her voice, while plucking the berries just as James taught her.

It felt natural to do this with him, something that she could see herself doing for a long time to come.

Out of the corner of her eye, she can see James sneaking some berries into his mouth. James catches her looking at him savoring the delightful flavor of the berries and chuckles, “Do you want to try them? They’re good, I swear.”

“Don’t mind if I do, kind sir,” Florence picked up some berries from the basket and popped one into her mouth. Relishing the flavor of the berry, she goes to pick up more from the basket when the basket is suddenly taken away from her.

“Woah, there. Don’t eat all of them now. Leave some for later!” James chuckled.

Florence laughed and tossed another berry in her mouth with a playful smirk, "I can't help it! You introduced me to these," she commented, earning her another deep chuckle from James.

"Go try the bushes over there, I've got these ones," He pointed to a space a few feet away from where they were standing.

Her smile remained on her lips as she nodded, taking one of his spare baskets and heading to where he told her. There was something about his presence that brought a certain feeling of peace and happiness to her soul. She was beginning to understand what it felt like to have someone genuine in her life.

It was nice, picking berries in silence. Doing some manual labor and taking her day into her own hands instead of strolls through the garden or sitting in the throne room for meetings. The quiet chatter of James' voice drifted through the breeze and floated through her ears. For the amount of animals that were around and who James liked to speak too, it didn't even cross her mind to look over and see what it was. There was a higher pitched second voice that softly mixed with it, but Florence assumed she was either going fully crazy or it was a mockingbird playing off a conversation it had heard.

"Hey look at this!" James called, pulling over her attention to a rip purple plum that flew through the air as he tossed it and caught it again in his fingers.

Florence hummed and her eyebrows kissed together, "I didn't know there were plum trees around this clearing?"

"There's not! Some nice woman gave it to me," He smiled sweetly.

“Nice woman? What nice woman?” Florence asked with suspicion, having never seen another soul in these woods before, not even James.

“She seemed like a nice old lady,” he shrugged, tossing the plum into the air once more. “I mean, she only found one plum and she gave it to me because she said I looked like the kind of person who would appreciate it. I gave her some boysenberries in return!” He protested, as if Florence would think *he* was the one taking advantage.

“James, I don’t think you should eat that,” she said carefully, making her way across the clearing towards him.

“I don’t see why not,” he countered. “It looks so ripe and juicy and…” his voice tailed off as he looked at the plum.

His eyes grew wider, seeming to glow with an eerie hue, and he stared at the plum as if mesmerised. He ran his tongue over his bottom lip and began to bring the plum towards his mouth. Florence felt as if she were wading through molasses as she tired to reach him.

“No, James, don’t-“

It was too late. James brought the plum to his lips and took a large bite. Florence watched as his lips curved up into a satisfied smile and a rivulet of juice made its way down his scruff-covered chin. His eyes crinkled in delight then they widened in surprise.

Florence could do nothing as James’ jaw fell slack and his arm dropped to his side, lax fingers spilling the plum from his hand. His knees buckled and he collapsed to the ground, his eyes rolling back in his head before closing. The plum rolled insidiously across the space between them and knocked against Florence’s foot before she finally freed herself from the thrall she was under and launched herself across the clearing towards the fallen man she had come to care for so much.

"James? James!" Florence panicked, heart thudding hard against her ribcage as she fell to her knees beside him. "Please, please. James, can you hear me?"

She brushed her fingers delicately over his cheek, sweeping tendrils of chestnut hair from his face. Timed seemed to slow as she sat beside him in the grass, covering James with gentle touches and murmuring softly in an attempt to rouse him. She didn't know how long it had been before she heard a rustle, the thump of tiny feet on solid ground and she looked up to see Rocket, snuffling around the plum.

"Oh, Rocket, no! Don't touch that!" She cried, and the small rabbit peered up at her, nose twitching as he made a small timid sound at the sight of his friend sprawled out on the ground. He hopped over, burrowing in close to James' side. "I'm so sorry, Rocket, the plum -- it must have been poisoned. Do- do you know the way to his cottage? Maybe his family could help?"

The small rabbit seemed to nod his head at Florence in understanding. “Perfect, now all I have to do is figure out how to get him there.” Florence said standing back up. Alpine came up behind her and nudged at James’s side then looked over at Florence. The horse then knelt down and rested on the forrest floor next to James and turned his head to her.

“Alright Alpine, let’s see if we can make this work” she said grabbing James under the shoulders and slowly lifted him up and draped him over her horse. Once she was sure he was on properly she stood back up and Alpine followed suit. Taking hold of Alpines’ reins in one hand and holding James in place with the other she looked down at Rocket.

“Ok, Rocket lead the way” she said and the rabbit began to hop into the forrest. Florence followed quickly behind hopping that someone would be at the cottage when she got there. Rocket seemed to understand the urgency of the situation because the little rabbit was moving fast through the wood. It was not long before the cottage came into view and she could hear people talking from inside.

The closer she got to the house, the more scared she became because, what would she tell them?

She didn't want them to think badly of her. From how he spoke of his family, they mean the world to him and she had hoped to meet them under better circumstances. Becaise she knew, deep down, that James had come to matter to her far more than she could have expected in the short span of time they had known each other.

With her heart in her throat, she came to a stop in front if the cottage door and knocked once. The chatter inside immediately stopped and steps thuded on the floor before opening the door.

"Hello– oh I'm sorry.." her voice trailed off as she saw who opened the door. A dwarf. Much shorter than she'd expected given James stature, small in size with kind eyes starring at her expectantly before drifting off behind her and widening comically at the man laying on her horse' back.

"James! What's happend to him?" He rushed out the door to his brother before the sound of many more steps came barreling down the door at his raising voice.

"What have you done to him?!" He shouted angrily at Florence, making her both frightened to respond but angry with how she was being treated.

"Nothing! It wasn't me!!" Florence tried to assure them men before her, with slight frustration in her voice, "we were berry picking and James said this nice old woman gave him a plum! I tried to tell him not to eat it but he went into this trance and then he just, collapsed."

His family moved around Alpine and managed to get James down, carrying him with the seven of them into the small cottage. Florence wasn't sure if she should follow them or if they still assumed it was her fault. Maybe it had been. The ominous red glow in the middle of the plum should have made her work harder to stop him from taking a bite. Or maybe she should have just looked over when she heard him talking and she would have seen who it was. There had to have been something she missed.

"James!" The blonde man called, kneeling down beside his brother and putting his ear close to his face, "he's breathing," he assured his siblings before glancing up at the doorway where Florence now stood, "what did this woman look like?"

"I - I don't know, I just heard him talking to someone, but I thought it was one of his creatures so I didn't think to look," Florence breathed, pulling her lip between her teeth and looking down at the concrete floor, "But I did see a flash of red hair when she walked away," she pointed out.

The redhead female looked at her brothers, "Wanda. We should have known she'd find him one day. But he should have been more careful,"

“We told him again and again about talking to strangers,” a shorter, blond-haired, dwarf grumbled, casting a disparaging eye over Florence.

“Easy Clint, she brought him back to us. She didn’t need to do that,” the first dwarf replied, stroking a hand through James’ hair.

“Who is Wanda?” Florence asked, subconsciously clutching at the hilt of her sword in a gesture that didn’t go unnoticed by the seven dwarves before her.

“You’re up Steve,” Clint grumbled, folding his arms in a huff as the dwarf that held James cleared his throat.

“Wanda is James’ step-mother. She married his father when James was but a babe and, as he grew, she became convinced that he would take the crown from her.”

“She’s achoo a witch!”

“Aye Tony, I was getting to that,” Steve said, offering his brother his handkerchief.

“She knows that as long as James lives then her power will weaken. When he was but a boy she commanded her huntsman to bring him into the forest and take his heart!”

“That’s horrendous!” Florence exclaimed, her hand reaching out to cup James’ cheek, a gesture not lost on any of his found siblings.

“The huntsman took one look at him and couldn’t go through with it. He abandoned James in the forest knowing we would find him and take him in,” Steve finished.

“But now she’s found him and tried to finish the job!” Another, dark-haired, brother cried.

Florence couldn’t stop the tears that tracked down her cheeks.

Never had her heart ached so much for someone. She glanced down at James, serene and soft in his sleep-like state. Florence didn’t understand how this had happened to someone like him, James was so kind and gentle, how anyone could try to harm him the way the—

“Wait, did you say crown? He’s… he’s royalty?”

Tony nodded, “his father was the king. James should have been next in line to the throne if Wanda hadn’t… well, you heard the story.”

Florence could do nothing but stare at them all, shocked by this new revelation.

The silence was broken by a soft trill sounded from the windowsill, and Florence turned to see Redwing, perched on the wood with several other birds. Behind them, a doe and her fawn peered into the cottage, while Rocket sat solemnly in the doorway.

“They care about him,” Florence whispered, “he made a life for himself out here.”

“We all care about him,” James’ sister stepped forward, a yawn stretching out her words, “he’s our brother.”

Florence nodded, steadfast as she swept the last of her drying tears from her cheeks. There had to be a way to wake James, surely.

Florence looked from James’s family gathered around him where they laid him on the table to the assortment of animals all peering in to see their friend and back to James. The story his family just told him sinking in… James was the missing Prince from the Kingdom from the other side of the forest. Hadn’t she just been thinking that there was a way that she could fix that? Somehow, whether it be fate or destiny or her horse she had stumbled on said Prince.

Looking down at James who seemed to be in a deep sleep she took a deep breath. “There has to be something that we can do. There is always a way to reverse magic… maybe, if I ride back to the palace I can bring back our healer. He knows some magic… maybe he can help” Florence said looking back to his family.

“Palace achoo you live in a palace?” The one called Tony asked

“Yes… My father is the King of the Kingdom on the other side of the forest. And if James is really the Prince from the other Kingdom then it is our duty to help save him. His Kingdom has diminished since he disappeared. I’ll go right away” Florence replied about to head out the door, but before she felt she turned back around to James and knelt over him.

“I’ll ride as fast as I can James, I promise” she whispered in his ear before placing a soft kiss on his lips. She stood back up and headed back towards the front door his family stepping to the side to let her through all watching her silently.

Her heart felt heavy in her chest as she went to climb atop her horse, the family and the animal's hopeful gazes following her every step.

Florence didn't know for sure if her family's healer could help James, the Queen's sorcery being much more powerful and darker than anything they'd ever heard of.

It was fueled by hatred and greed.

She couldn't imagine anyone wanting to hurt people– especially James, so willingly.

He was the last person she'd ever wish harm to. So sweet and kind and caring. And selfishly, from the moment of brief contact their lips had moments ago, his lips so soft and plump under her own. She wished to have the opportunity to kiss them again and again.

She would do everything in her power to help him, and maybe, to return him home. If he wishes so.

Alpine hooves were heavy as they began to move, stopping abruptly and just as she was about to question why, a few shocked gasps could be heard before the birds birched on the cottage window started chirping excitedly.

The birds began to fly in circles around her head and Florence had to resist the urge to bat them away. She dug in her heels and to move Alpine onward but he remained stubbornly in place.

“Come on, boy, we need to go. We have to help him!” She demanded, her voice cracking.

“Princess!” A voice cried. “Come quickly!”

She turned to see Steven beckoning her madly from the door of the cottage and she leapt from her horse and hurried towards him.

“What’s the matter?!” She cried, worried that the witch had found a way to deliver James some greater torment.

Florence entered the cottage once more but halted abruptly as she took in the scene before her. James was propped up on his elbow, one hand rubbing across his forehead, his brows drawn down in a frown.

Like a magnet his eyes found hers and his face erupted into a smile so joyful that Florence could do nothing else but return it.

“You’re here!” He exclaimed, though his voice was hoarse.

“Of course I’m here,” she replied, striding over to his makeshift bed on the table. “I was only leaving in search of help.”

“Please don’t leave,” he whispered, reaching his hand out towards her.

She grasped it and he pulled her closer, managing to drag himself upright.

“I don’t understand.”Florence murmured. “You were under a spell so strong…”

“It was you!” One of the dwarves replied.

“Loki is right, Princess,” Natasha confirmed with a yawn.

“Princess?” James mumbled, not able to tear his eyes away from Florence’s face.

“Aye,” Loki said with a dopey grin. “You woke him with your kiss.”

“ I did not,” Florence protested, but could not help the way her eyes flickered down to James’ lips and back, nor the way he gazed back at her with such emotion.

“Only true love’s kiss can break a witch’s curse,” blushed Thor.

“I am not sure of the truth in that statement,” James muttered as his arm wrapped around Florence’s waist, “but I would very much like to test the theory.”

Florence flushed a deep red as he leaned upwards but at the last minute she turned her head to the seven pairs of eyes that stared intently at them.

“Turn around at least!” She exclaimed, and with some shoving and jostling, the seven dwarves turned their backs to at least give some semblance of privacy.

“Where were we, your Highness,” Florence smiled, turning back towards James.

“From what I heard that title belongs to you,” he replied, leaning ever closer.

“There are still some tales to tell,” she whispered against his mouth as their lips finally met in a sweet, soft kiss.

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lucinesnow · 1 year

Text

petals of blood; part I

Loneliness.

I had never felt anything else. My loneliness was my friend, it kept staring at me in the mirror and watched me sleep. It held me tight when I cried and refused to let me go. Some days, it felt like a demon sitting on my shoulder, keeping me from leaving through the door. The world outside was lonely, too: the sun was shining on the clear sky, the trees were holding the snow quietly and the mist trapped the castle on Silent Hill to eternity.

There I was, staring at the door I had just closed behind me. The air was thick and freezing, first snow was falling quietly on the rose garden, and those huge pines leading to the woods were bathed in white.

Nothing happened here in the hill. There was one small village of which the people never approached me or even looked at the castle. And I had my hollow castle, it was massive and filled with cold chambers and undiscovered mysteries, and I was there all by myself. Some days, I wished someone would knock on my door, yet the day never came.

I had been left all alone in this cold world, and years passed by so slowly, yet it felt like an instant. After my family had abandoned me to the woods in fear of my behaviour, I had never been happy since. The only thing I remembered about that incident was the fear in my mother’s eyes as she threw me in the cave with no food and just a night gown on me. After that, I had fallen into hibernation. A century after that, a little boy from the village had helped me kindly, I did not remember his name, but he had been so kind that I had believed that maybe I would live on. But as time passed by, I did not get to thank him as he left the village with no sign at all.

Time passed, my hair had turned white, and my eyes had lost their tears, yet I never got older. For a while, I had been looking like a teen, but God knows how many miserable years I had spent here in this damned castle.

I looked up at the clouds that covered the sunlight. The sun had not been there for days, winter was on its way already. I stepped on the fresh snow, wondering if it would be a long winter ahead, but I knew it was always Hell.

As I went to the woods, I kept wondering if the kind villager would ever come back so I would thank him for helping me live on. Those trees held so many memories, and a bunch of things I wanted to let go with the wind, but as I walked past those same branches, my mind was at peace. I had not felt those things in years. They were erased from this land, locked away in my memories. I did not yearn for my past again – it was like a dream; it did not feel real.

A bird was singing on the top of the tree. Snow kept falling on the ground, soon it was covered in the soft petals of snowflakes, and the cold would freeze everything for a time long as eternity. I would remain in my slumber again, longing for someone to hold me, and it kept wishing it over and over no matter how I knew it would never happen.

I squeezed my winter coat tighter on my skin, yet the cold wind still blew through it. There were no berries anywhere. The snow had already covered all of them, and my stomach fell on the ground, my throat started to ache, but the tears wouldn’t come out. I would never survive the winter.

My knees froze as I fell on the ground, but there was nothing else. The blizzard was intensifying. I would still find the castle if I left now, only to find myself trapped in the same space as before.

A long spear flew over my head.

I barely dodged it, and it stuck to the snow. It was glowing in the darkening evening, it seemed like fate, but I had no idea where it had come from.

“The snow appears to be pure”, an unknown, high male voice spoke from the distance. “Seems that I missed my target.”

My heartbeat suddenly turned into a clock ticking inside my ribs. Someone had tried to kill me, and they knew I was here. I was a target. My voice would not come out, my limbs were chained to the ground, and I stared at the trees.

A swift hand grabbed the spear and saw it almost pierce my flesh on my head, but my legs forced me to get up.

I had never run so fast in my life. Thoughts of dying filled my head, the cold weather did not bother me anymore as I dragged my feet on the thick snow, praying the spear would not hit me.

“You won’t get away, monster!” The mysterious voice echoed in the trees, followed by another strike of the spear. In the dark blizzard, I had not seen his face, but I knew that someone out there hated me. Even though I had never done anything bad in my life.

I slipped on the icy meadow and fell face down on the ground. My feet refused to lift me up, even though I wanted to, my body wasn’t able to stand it any longer. This would be the day I were to die by the hand of this mysterious assassin, and there was nothing I could do.

Somehow, even though I couldn’t stand my life, I didn’t want to leave this world behind.

“Now, you shall die!”

His eyes met mine, and I stared at those cherry-coloured, intense eyes. He was so young, it hurt to see him holding a catalyst of death in his hands. His beautiful eyes didn’t hesitate. For a moment, I saw his face looking so full of wrath, like a devil. His rosy strands of hair framed his anger, so cruel but so pretty.

And those small hands, they were shaking as he held the spear on my neck, yet it did not pierce me. The cross necklace on his neck reflected my terrified eyes, I knew what he was. A vampire hunter.

“Are you lonely?” I whispered.

“Quiet, you!”

His hands gripped the spear tighter, yet it did not reach my neck. I looked up at the sky, the clouds were drifting away and the stars shone their light over the lonely kingdom. My eyelids felt heavy, the snow was slowly pulling me towards its embrace, but I could not rest. Not until his spear was away from me, not until I knew what he was going to do.

My eyes were locked in his, and they looked murderous. “I think it’s rude to try to kill me without introducing yourself first, monsieur.”

“Why do you care about that?” He replied, then stuck the spear in my dress to avoid letting me go. “You’re just a vampire. And vampires deserve to die.”

“My name is Celestine de Sade”, I muttered, ignoring his viewpoint on me.

He scoffed. “Astolfo Granatum, or Astolfo of Garnet”, he looked away. “I am one of the church’s chasseurs.”

The moonlight shone straight to my eyes, and for a moment, I saw him completely. His eyes widened as his gaze met mine in a moment. I could not ignore that he was a beautiful human for being a male. I had never seen such an interesting-looking person in my long life.

“Astolfo”, I repeated slowly. “Chasseur... I see.”

He was still staring at me, surprisingly enough, and not making a move. I thought that I would have been dead by now, but he did not aim the spear at me, he just kept staring at my eyes and I was staring at his.

“I never thought that I would have to die by the hand of the church, when there is nothing that I can do except lay here and watch my blood spill on the snow.”

Astolfo lifted his spear and pointed it at my chest, lifting it up at the moon’s gaze. My eyelids closed from the world, I waited for the stroking pain in my chest, the one last breath. I had always wanted to die by myself, yet now it seemed that my time was up.

It pierced right through the palm of my hand. I screamed softly; it had not pierced my heart. As I opened my eyes again, I saw the snow turning red, and he was standing face away from me, holding his fists together and shivering, if not from the cold, then from the depth of his heart.

“My sister...” he muttered angrily. “You look just like her laying down there, curse you...”

I opened my mouth to say something, but he brushed his face and turned back at me, eyes filled with hatred and murder. He looked like a fallen angel, his rose-coloured hair was messed up on his face, his knuckles had turned pale.

Then, he swiftly grabbed back his spear and turned to leave. The person he had been a while ago was gone, and instead of flowing rage, there was deeply buried wrath, something I had never witnessed someone having towards me.

“Wait!” I shouted through the storm.

He stopped on the path and met my eyes again. “I will return to take your life, mademoiselle.”

And he vanished in the blizzard, as if he had never been here. The soft snow was painted in crimson red, my heart had almost stopped its endless beating. Yet I realized that he had not called me a monster anymore. But I knew he was going to come back to kill me, but something about him felt restless, like a bird that had just learned to fly, and locked in a cage. And his blood that shone through his porcelain skin, was the sweetest scent I had ever known.

#vanitas no carte #astolfo granatum #oc #vnc #the case study of vanitas #jeanne #noe archiviste #vanitas #astolfo x oc #vnc story

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nox-artemis · 1 year

Text

Desperately trying to resolve my codependency issues

First got to preface by saying that I still have a lot of bad nights: nights were I stay up overthinking about J.G., crying over J.G., and then as if preternatural forces want to exacerbate my pain more, Snapchat "reminds" me that J.G. is on Snapchat (I deleted all of our text messages but I still have their number in my phone). Like, the magical-thinking side of me says, "oh. This might be a sign that they might accept your friend request if you sent one!" but that magical-thinking led me astray last year... So yeah I have an entire entry idea about my relationship to J.G. and our horoscope signs, but in short this is why I'm kind of annoying skeptic when it comes to these things. I.e. astrology and magical-thinking is stupid.

("But why don't you just delete J.G.'s number from your phone already then?" The same reason why I unblocked J.G. from all of our mutual social media platforms.)

Carrying on...

We had our first (non-lethal) big snowfall. It's nice looking at freshly fallen snow, but it brought back some memories from two years ago, when I planned out an entire winter/Imbolc-inspired photoshoot where I had to be at a precise location right after a fresh snowfall at a specific time. I managed to do it all and the photos came out terrific. It's still one of my favorite photo sets.

And it's like, I'm pretty sure I did some photoshoots last year: I just... don't really remember.

I think that's a major things that's been weighing down on me after all of this J.G. fallout. I do lots of shit that theoretically should be uplifting and self-improving, but it just flies right past me. Part of it is because I always feel overshadowed by everyone and everything around (harken back to me traveling with my brother). But I think telling J.G. about what I do on a regular basis helped me to cope with a lot of that and therefore it kinda gave shit I did a little bit of meaning.

So yeah I might have a codependency issue.

I don't want to sound like my pure motivation to doing things I like was to impress J.G. and find all of my validation through them... but I guess they were the person I enjoyed talking to the most about stuff like that.

The whole year I was off from I.G., I never really posted most of my pictures of my outfits/costume or travels to my other social media (mainly Twitter). I never really talk about stuff I do with other people, not really even the one or two IRL friends I've limited myself to.

I guess when you're really preoccupied with one person being on your mind constantly - and how that person in turned caused you a lot of grief and suffering - just kind of a made a maelstrom of a) me not being as motivated to do things that I like and b) when I actually do achieve stuff that I wanted to do it doesn't really make me feel that happy or accomplished.

So again. I admit: I'm dealing with some codependency issues. J.G. was the first person I really fell hard for, was willing to make some sacrifices for (and kind of did already in *that* way), and then they left so suddenly with no explanation. I'm finding it really hard to let go and that's been keeping me from doing "normal" shit like studying, working, sleeping, sewing, reading, hiking, knitting... just doing happy "me" thing.

It sounds so pathetic especially since I've always framed myself as someone who was so aloof and introverted and alternative. You know, I've always asserted both before and during my fling with J.G. that I don't need to be in a relationship, and I guess it's true to an extent because... well, I haven't gone to the extent of offing myself because I'm not with J.G. right now, so I guess that something...

But I dunno. I thought shit would be getting better with time, but I think it's the opposite now? Like, I'm finding it harder to function because I can't let go, I still hold out hope. I'm trying "court" another person and... I don't know how I feel about it. I half feel like I'm just trying to replace J.G. (b/c honestly they look/talk similar to J.G.) and if they're like J.G. then isn't it going to just be a rinse+repeat (isn't there just going to be some culture divides and barriers? Aren't they just going to have some deep-seated issues that can't be fixed? Aren't I just going to go too hard and scare them off?)? But then the other half of me doesn't feel anything, or nothing much.

Maybe I don't want to feel anything, because I'd be betraying everything I felt - still feel - toward J.G. I still love them, and I feel like I can't love any else, as shallow as that sounds. But I guess that's true for everybody. Like, when a relationship ends (either from separation or mortal demise) and we move onto a new one, I guess we'll always have a special love for the previous relationship that can't and maybe shouldn't be replicated within a new relationship. But I desperately want to move on with someone else to make me forget even though I'm probably not emotionally/mentally ready to do so. If stuff works out with this new person... what's to so I won't still pining and emotionally cheating on them with thoughts of J.G.?

Yeah. Codependency.

#breakup diary #break-up diary #break up diary #at least I can say #I'm making a good habit of writing these long-winded and slightly demented posts #whenever I have the futile urge to reach out to J.G.

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hotdamnhunnam · 3 years

Note

congrats on 2k followers!!!!!! you're such a wonderful person and you deserve to be celebrated! for the emoji fic fest i'd like to send in the following emojis for raleigh becket: 😚☂️💦

Thanks for your request for my Emoji Fic Fest! And thanks for the congrats and kind words! 💗

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Under My Umbrella

Pairing: Raleigh Becket x F!Reader Warnings: smut, swearing, random silly song references, Raleigh being a big dorky softie but also (shockingly!?) down to fuck immediately Word Count: ~1.6k Emoji Prompt: 😚☂️💦 (key words are in bold)

The breach is closed. The war is over and he saved the world and everybody knows.

And that’s the problem. Raleigh Becket doesn’t like the way the spotlight overcomes him. Light he never chose, so blinding as it glows. The way the masses flock like moths drawn to the halo set above him and blindly believe they love him. That’s not love—they know of what he did to save the day when push came to a cataclysmic shove, but truly they know nothing of him.

It’s a shame to live in fame. Beneath the shadow of his own overblown name. He doesn’t have the massive ego, to embrace the role of hero, to indulge when strangers scream after him everywhere he goes. He worries that his life won’t ever be the same.

That was what drove him to this small town tucked away and hid, a little off the grid—and he’s felt better ever since he came. He’ll never be completely unknown, but at least the crowds are tame, and leave him well enough alone. He’s so alone lately it’s almost lame.

He likes it that way though. Likes his routine of waking up and waiting at the bus stop, working at his humble job. The pay is low. Even more so when business is slow. And Raleigh savors the simplicity, the contrast to the constant flash of cameras when he was recently living in the city. Even the weather helps his cause by often shrouding this small town in rain and snow.

He’s the new golden boy in town you haven’t met. You’ve heard the rumors of a cutie who just moved here but you haven’t crossed paths yet. When you hurry to the bus stop this fine morning, find yourself caught in a downpour without warning… that’s when you finally set eyes on Raleigh Becket. Suddenly the rain is not the only thing getting you wet.

You would have made sure to bump into him much sooner had you known that this is what your ass was missing. Even when his mane is damp-darkened by the rain you can still tell he’s got a bright blonde head of hair. Big eyes as blue as the Pacific and deliciously pink lips just made for kissing. You could swear, you’ve seen his face somewhere… but even if you hadn’t you would still shamelessly stare.

You’d missed the forecast so arrived at the bus stop without an umbrella in hand. The golden god has one but you do not want him to think you’re staring at him as a hint that he should share it with you; that’d be a bitchy thing to do, to make such a passive-aggressive demand.

From Raleigh’s end—once he’s calmed himself down after reacting to the most beautiful girl who’s ever come around the bend—he clears his throat and clumsily invites you now to join him where he stands.

“Y-you can stand under my umbrella.”

He just says it with no introductory words. You find it cute as fuck that he’s so awkward. It’s a good thing too, given the awkward vibes uncontrollably coming off of you. “–ella, ella…”

You had just murmured it quietly… then bitterly regret that shit immediately. Cursing yourself silently for your idiocy. Maybe the poor guy doesn’t even know this reference to a song from the 2000s or whenever it was.

But apparently he does. The next thing that he bashfully goes on to say: “… ey, ey, ey.”

Suddenly all your insecurities about your stupid sense of humor fade away. All you can think about is standing under his umbrella and hopefully sitting on his cock later today.

***************

This bastard smells so fucking good it isn’t fair.

Can probably hear you breathing him so deep but you don’t even care. Standing beside this total stranger you have never felt such comfort anywhere. That subtle clean scent of simple unscented soap… mixed with the warmth of honeycomb and home and hope… cinnamon sugar muffins, sweet and soft and fresh out of the oven. Smells so wholesome you can’t cope.

You want to say something but don’t even know what. After a few seconds of silence steal another glimpse up at his gorgeous face and have to stop yourself from moaning like a slut.

… That’s when it hits you who he is. You were too caught up in his beauty that you hadn’t even realized who this hero truly is.

And Raleigh senses it the moment that you recognize—picks up on that familiar jolt of such starstruck surprise, that makes him feel like he’s an object for a sea of prying eyes. Less of a person, more a prize. It kind of hurts him, as he wishes he could meet a pretty girl and flirt a little bit, without his reputation far preceding him and getting in the middle of it. Wishes he could carry on like all the ‘normal’ guys.

Then he remembers he’s an awfully shitty flirt. That helps a little with the self-pitying hurt.

You gather up your fallen jaw to ask him the obligatory question as it’s naturally the only thing to do. “Are you…”

But then you pause—notice the shadow fall across his gaze of blue—you hate to think you were the cause. You can’t begin to process all his thoughts and what he’s been through, but you understand on some level that just because the whole wide world regards him with applause, that doesn’t mean you have to stand here and remind him that it��s true.

And so instead you just finish the sentence with something painfully dumb. The words just come, because all two of your brain cells are doing their usual stupid dance. “… are you into piña coladas by any chance?”

The sadness in his gaze fades a bit as he casts you a curious glance.

You backtrack to explain your silly words. You’ve referred to a super old song yet again, even older this time and he might not get it so you have to explain. You feel so fucking awkward. “I–I just thought that maybe since we’ve already gotten caught in the rain… we could work backwards…”

Before you can carry on with your explanation, Raleigh’s blushing face lights up in realization. His adorable pink cheeks flush red. “Oh my God I’m so sorry that went right over my head!”

He’s so fucking precious you can’t even stand it. Too cute to be true. You laugh off what you’d said and just shoot the shit, for a few minutes—or more than a few—till the two of you realize the bus isn’t coming and that you are stranded.

“Well, I guess I’ll just call in sick today.” He shrugs but shocks himself a little bit ‘cause that was not at all a Raleigh thing to say. He’d never lie about his reason for an absence from the job. Yet he might have to, if he hopes to carry on chatting with you, all day here under his umbrella at this lonely little bus stop.

“Me too,” you coo, smiling up at this wholesome heartthrob, then nervously shuffling your feet and looking out into the steady sheets of rainfall that surround you. Wondering whether or not he took the hint that you were asking him out on a date with that piña colada thing. You hope he didn’t; if he had gotten the hint, he isn’t answering.

As soon as the thought enters your mind, he picks up on your anxious energy and hits rewind. “Back to your piña colada question—I’ve, uh… actually never had one.”

Your heart perks up in happiness based on the promise in his tone. The promise that the two of you won’t have to spend this rainy day alone. The next words out of your mouth are a little flirtier than they should be maybe, but he’s such an innocent baby, that you just can’t help but have a little fun. “I’d bet there are a lot of things you’ve never done…”

Blue eyes go wide as if your insult was obscene. But Raleigh can’t stay mad at such a pretty girl. “What’s that supposed to mean?! I’ll have you know I saved the fucking world!”

And just like that he’s fucking told you—even though his tone is playful it’s still true—and though you obviously knew, he finds he’s no longer compelled to hide that part of him from view. The way he always used to do. As if he knows that you want all of him and not only the surface-level shit, as if you see into him more than just a little bit, whereas the rest of the world sees right fucking through.

He knows that you only just met, so maybe it’s too early to be feeling shit like this but he’ll take any glimpse of hope that he can get.

You take his hand and feel his pulse in sync with yours as your hearts race. Pure fucking joy. “C’mon golden boy, I know just the place.”

The place for his first frozen pineapple coconut drink. The place for his first indulgence in a new fucking kink: screwing someone he only just met in the bathroom of this little diner and whispering filth in your ear as he rails you so hard that the force of it might break the sink.

Through all the purity of Raleigh there is definitely something fucking dirty and you caught it from the first blink. Now you’ve gone and stirred it up in him turns out he’s even dirtier than you would ever think.

You standing under his umbrella was the start; you lifting him out of the shadows over his head sparks a new light in his heart. And you awakening new sides of him is honestly the sweetest fucking part.

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Emoji Fic Masterlist

Emoji Fic Tag List – below; if you’d like to be added or removed, just let me know!

@happyhunnams @band--psycho @est11 @edonaspanca @starbooty @innerpaperexpertcloud @i-love-scott-mccall @six-camelot @alexa-rae-dreamz @coffeebooksandfandom @thesuicidalflower @flaireandsynch @helloheyhihowdyheya @gemini0410 @waywardodysseys @zozebo @bettergetusetoit @emilykjh @little-diable @rocketqueen @mrspeacem1nusone @miss-smutty @rayslittlekitten @abby-splace @chubbychubbs28 @miraclesoflove @tegggeeee @hunnambabe @missusnora @kesskirata @vixenrebellion @thexhostess @pomegranatearildreams @kandii395 @severewobblerlightdragon @itspdameronthings @niki-xie @cind-in-real-life @saweetspoiled @poge-life @few-proud-emotonal @samanthaisnthome @melodranas @soaharleys @charlie-hunnams-old-lady @simpmasterjr @nataliewalker93 @lovebarefootblonde @marvelousmermaid @tsukuyomi011 @sciapod @midnight-dreams-23

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lemonpeter · 2 years

Text

Angel

@peterparkerbingo (I KNOW, IM SORRY): Corruption

I am officially on winter break lol I’m hoping to be a lot more active here. I’m gonna do my best to finish this bingo and my kinktober. I hope y’all enjoy 💙

Warnings: mafia au (mostly just for reference), blood mention, background de@th implication, idolization

***

From the very beginning Tony made it clear that Peter was only to be dressed in white.

The man’s wardrobe looked like a freshly fallen snow.

Tony always heard that white was the color of purity. It symbolized perfection. No one personified perfection like Peter did. So he was to be presented as such. He was an angel on earth.

Peter didn’t mind. He figured that he could do what Tony expected. And he liked the way the clean white coverings made his freckles and dark eyes stand out. Sure, he was almost constantly worried that he would stain something, but Tony took care of that too.

What couldn’t be washed was gotten rid of. Not a single spot would be tolerated, marring his perfect prince’s image. Everything had to stay pristine if it was expected to touch Peter’s skin.

Everything except him, that was.

***

Peter didn’t move, frozen in place. He hadn’t just done that. There was no way he’d just done that.

The gun dropped from his hands and hit the floor with a loud clang.

Tony looked over him, taking in the thick spray of red that stained the young man’s white button down and slacks. The blood seeped into the fabric, creating stains that he knew would never come out. “Oh, sweetheart.” His lips dropped at the corners in a disappointed frown.

He should have known that the purity couldn’t last. Peter had been tainted from the moment Tony got his hands on him.

Peter’s eyes were wide and full of fear. “I’m sorry. I didn’t- that’s not-” he was gasping for air as if he was drowning.

He ruined his clothes. Not with a drip from lunch or someone else bumping into him or something else not really in his control. He was stained with blood.

And Tony was going to get rid of him.

Tony stood up silently, pain in his eyes as he gently picked Peter up.

The younger man didn’t fight, clutching at his shirt and burying his face in his neck. “Please, Tony, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to.” He didn’t want to die.

Tony didn’t respond, carrying him to an unfamiliar room. Peter squeezed his eyes shut. He didn’t want to see what was going to happen to him. Then he was set down on a couch and he frowned. “Tony?” He kept his eyes closed tight.

The man started by unbuttoning the ruined shirt. He didn’t say anything. Not yet.

Peter choked on a sob. “What are you doing? Why- why can’t you just get it over with?”

The older man pressed a gentle kiss to his forehead. “Let’s get you changed.” He should have expected it. Nothing pure could exist around him. It was just his nature. “Don’t cry.”

He kept the process slow, carefully stripping away the soiled layers. Nothing underneath had been touched, but he knew that it had to go anyway. His prince wasn’t pure. He’d been corrupted by the very one aiming to keep him that way.

He didn’t speak again until Peter was completely bare, shivering in the chilled air of the room. The young man had stopped crying and just allowed him to work. It was much easier that way.

“I’m sorry I ruined you,” Tony murmured, hands placed gently on the man’s thighs. Even if he was no longer pure, he was still so good. Soft. So many things that Tony wasn’t. “I thought I could keep you the way you were. My angel.” He stood up slowly, walking to the closet and pulling out a robe. It was deep red silk, nearly matching the fresh stains on the clothes on the floor.

“I should have known better than to keep an angel. I’m sorry, sweetheart.”

Peter let himself be wrapped in the smooth fabric, eyes on Tony the entire time. “Do I still get to stay?”

“Of course, honey. But now you can be whatever you want to be.”

He’d mourn the loss of his angel. But later he would wrap his prince in the colors of royalty, power, and loyalty.

Things would be okay, even if they weren't perfect.

#starker #peter parker #tony stark #tony x peter #tony stark x peter parker #my writing #peterparkerbingo2021 #I’m not exactly sure what this is or how I feel about it?#but I got really into writing it lol so I hope it’s not too bad

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gukeobi · 4 years

Text

New Beginnings (M)

pairing: werewolf!jeongguk x reader

genre: Slight angst, fluff (?), smut (jeongguk has a breeding kink, Alpha kink kinda, passionate jeongguk), kinda enemies to friends to lovers? lol

words: 17.4k (i’m sorry)

warnings: blood mention, non present character death

-----------

It was cold. Fresh snow covered the soft forest ground in a sheet of pure white, some delicately resting on the branches of the bare trees that lived around you as more continued to fall from the sky above. The iciness burned your bare hands, leaving them red, flushed and numb as your excited giggles rang throughout the empty forest like a mantra.

You were only four years old, and every year since your birth you would visit your grandfather at his cabin in the woods. Your mother, his only daughter, had passed during childbirth and afterwards he had secluded himself to a simple cabin in the woods that was miles away from any form of civilization to continue his independent research studies. He was a retired wildlife biologist, his motivation to continue his work in a professional setting dying along with his only child.

“Don’t wander too far now, Y/N,” Your grandfather called out to you, watching you from the patio with a smile on his face and a cup of coffee warming his hands through his thick gloves. You turned back to look at him and nodded in response to his request, cheeks flushed and a smile so wide it hurt. It was times like these in which you reminded him so much of his late daughter, the sparkle in your eyes and the snow melting in your hair.

The thought caused a sharp pang of hurt to spread through his chest.

Turning back to the snowy fortress in front of you, you continued to make your way through the vast never-ending whiteness with no true end goal in mind. You collected anything that caught your eye--pretty rocks, fallen leaves, and even a small collection of hellebore flowers which were hidden behind a naked tree. With your treasures held delicately in between your chubby red fingers and arms tucked tightly against your chest, your tiny legs weaved through the forest in continuously growing elation.

Your excitement was short lived, however, when your lack of awareness resulted in your foot getting caught on a fallen branch.

“Ow,” you whispered gently, watching as blood stained the whiteness below you almost immediately. Your knee scraped against a sharp rock hidden beneath the snow during your fall, the fabric of your pants tearing upon impact and the objects that were once held protectively against your thick warm coat were now scattered across the forest floor in chaos. With tears clouding your vision, your hands gripped your bloody knee gently.

The sound of your quiet weeps seemed to echo in the otherwise empty forest, bouncing against the trees and coming back to mock you for your obliviousness to your surroundings. The slight rustle of the snow covered bushes across from you managed to draw your attention away from your injury briefly, though what you saw was not at all what you expected.

Standing between two trees was a wolf. Its sleek black fur was a stark contrast to the pure whiteness surrounding it, the midnight inkiness unable to camouflage itself from unsuspecting eyes. It was large, towering over you impressively even with its massive paws sinking into the snow below it, leaving depressions in their wake. Its hulking physique was intimidating, muscles visibly rippling underneath its thick winter coat as it stalked towards your tiny fallen figure.

You watched in awe and slight nervousness as it stopped right in front of you. It’s head alone was almost the size of your entire frame, and it’s eyes never once left your flushed, tear stained face.

“Hi,” you breathed, your voice small. Gently taking your hand, you held up your palm face up towards the wolf’s face, its nose cold and wet as it touched your hand before it slowly transitioned into warm, sleek fur as the wolf pushed its forehead into your palm. You ran your fingers gently across the wolf’s head, your tiny fingers dwarfed significantly, relishing in the warmth it brought.

The first touch of the animal’s tongue on your injury stung, the roughness irritating the already inflamed skin. You whimpered, though watched silently as the wolf cleaned your wound like it would to one of its young. Looking back up at you once it was done, deeming your injury clean enough, its eyes flashed a brilliant shade of vermillion before returning to their dulled amber color as quickly as it came.

Too engrossed in feeling the warmth of the wolf’s body temperature beneath your frozen fingertips, you were slightly startled when you felt it’s snout gently nudging your thigh, signaling for you to stand up. You followed without complaint, albeit a slight limp on your left leg, and brushed the snow that clung wetly to your clothes with your fingers before embedding your fingers back into the wolf’s warm, soft fur on its back. It led you back the direction you came, the trip silent except for the crunch of the snow beneath your feet as the cabin quickly came into view.

“There you are,” your grandfather breathed, a smile plastering his wrinkled face as soon as you came into view. His eyes quickly drifted to the creature beside you, taking in it’s hulking figure and bright red eyes. He wasn’t worried or scared like you expected him to be, and instead lowered into a small bow to show his respects. The wolf followed suit, lowering its head before backing away from you to return to the forest; it’s home. “I was wondering where you ran off to, silly girl.”

“Grandpa!” you giggled, running up the patio steps before crashing into his chest in a hug. The sun was quickly setting, casting hues of golden and soft rose onto the snow as you turned back to watch the wolf disappear between the trees once again. It was almost as if it was never there to begin with. “Did you see that? Did you?”

“I did, my love,” He spoke to you, his voice gentle as he brushed stray hairs away from your face. Pointing to your torn pants, a frown found its way on his face at the sight of the raw, exposed skin. “What happened here?”

“I was running through the snow,” you began, sighing at the warmth of the inside of the cabin as your grandfather led you to the kitchen. You sat down on one of the dining room chairs, watching as he grabbed a first aid kit from one of the cupboards. “And I tripped over a rock. It hurt pretty bad.”

Your grandpa hummed, listening to your story intently as he slowly disinfected the wound with antibacterial soap before taking out a bandage to cover it with. “And then?”

“And then this big wolf showed up out of nowhere!” you exclaimed, waving your hands high above your head to try to demonstrate. “He was huge, but he didn’t hurt me. He helped me. He licked my knee and led me back here.”

“Did he?” Placing a bandage onto your knee, he chuckled as he gently took your small, cold hands in his own and led you from the kitchen to your bedroom. You quickly changed from your wet, outside clothes and into your warm sleep clothes, hopping into bed with a smile that didn’t seem like it was fading still on your face.

“I have something to tell you, Y/N. Something important.” your grandfather spoke, his voice low as he pulled the covers up to your chest. By now the sun has fully set, the only light illuminating your room coming from the pale moonlight glow and the dulled bedside lamp. “There are many wolves out there, Y/N. Special wolves. They will never hurt you if you welcome them with open arms and an open mind.”

With that, he placed a kiss on your forehead and turned off your bedside lamp, the door to your bedroom closing softly in his wake. Almost complete darkness welcomed you, the light of the full moon bathing you in it’s ethereal shine, and as you fell asleep that night you swore you could hear the distant howls singing you a lullaby.

---------

The coldness of the outside air was pleasant against your skin, the thick material of your hoodie sheathing most of the elements from your exposed flesh. You worked diligently on moving each box from the back of your car to the inside of the cabin, music playing quietly through your headphones to fill the quietness of the empty forest.

You were now twenty-one, and it's been 3 months since your grandfather has passed.

His death had taken a huge toll on you. You had stopped visiting him during the summer after your thirteenth birthday, school and relationships outweighing the desire to spend the three months you had free in the woods alone and not with your friends. Up until now you didn’t feel any regret in doing so, your relationship with him eventually fading into the only communication being handwritten cards sent every holiday or your birthday. Though ever since you found out about the news of his death the only thing you could feel was heartbreak and guilt.

Stepping back outside you grabbed the last box out of your trunk, shutting it with a sigh before moving to finally go back inside. You were tired, lately that’s all you’ve been, and moving from the heart of Seoul to the forests of a forgotten city was harder than you’d originally envisioned it to be. The drive was long, the bright early morning sky fading into the depths of midnight before you could even realize, barely any stops made in between. The only thing you wanted to do now was rest.

--------

Looking around the cabin it was exactly how you remembered it being, albeit desolate as the livelihood that used to thrive was now replaced with cold emptiness in the absence of its light. The dark tinted wood flooring was cold beneath your sock clad feet as you moved to light the fireplace, illuminating the living room in a light golden hue and filling it with warmth.

There were many pictures lining the stone built around the fireplace, and you could recognize your face in some of them as you moved to pick one up. You ran your finger gently over the glass, brushing some of the built up dust away to reveal the image of you and your grandpa’s smiling face staring back at you.

It was snowing in the picture, your faces flushed red and snow stuck in your hair. The memory of when the photo was taken was fuzzy, blurry at some of the edges but it still made your eyes well up; a small smile on your face as your tears hit the glass protecting it.

Gently placing the picture frame back on the mantle, your eyes drifted to the other photos that lined the stone. One that managed to catch your eye was one of your grandfather, smiling like always and surrounded by three very large wolves.

One was an earthy brown color, lanky and tall but still muscular and intimidating while the other a healthy mix of grey and white, specks of dirty brown littering it’s coat. The last one was slightly hidden, it’s obnoxiously large head peeking behind your grandfather’s shoulder shyly as it’s inky black coat contrasted nicely with the warm autumn background. It felt strangely familiar, though you couldn’t pinpoint why.

Your grandfather always talked about the wolves that roamed the forest in which he lived and how they were special, different. You never truly understood what he meant by that, though you assumed he had simply built a relationship with the creatures as he focused his studies on them and their behaviours.

You tried not to dwell on it too much.

Shaking your head you placed the photo back where it was on the fireplace, taking one last look at your new home before putting the fire out and getting ready for bed.

-------

In the morning you were rudely woken up by the sound of somebody knocking on your door. It was strange, you thought, nobody came by these parts by chance and the closest neighbour you had was miles away. You doubted if they even really cared if somebody new moved in overnight, though you assumed news spread fast in small areas like these. Furrowing your eyebrows, you rubbed the sleep out of your eyes before quickly answering the door.

What greeted you were two men, one noticeably taller than the other with dirty silver blonde hair and kind eyes that seemed welcoming. The other had hair the shade of night, with cat-like eyes that made you more uncomfortable the longer you looked at them. Both were wearing simple clothes, though arguably not appropriate for the freezing weather. You shifted nervously.

“Can I help you?” you spoke, voice slightly raspy from sleep. The coldness of the early morning air nipped at your exposed arms, your simple t-shirt not doing much to shelter you from the cold as it entered into your home. Your eyes drifted to the taller one of the two as he spoke.

“Hi, my name is Namjoon and this is my brother, Yoongi.” he spoke, eyes crinkling at the sides as he smiles at you. He has a gentle smile, you think. “We live a couple miles up the street and heard of somebody moving in. You’re new around here, yes?”

He spoke eloquently, obviously educated and smart judging by the way he chose to present himself, but there was a slight disconnect with his words-- a slur to his accent you didn’t recognize. One you couldn’t point out.

You nodded in response to his question, a polite smile on your face. “I just finished moving in yesterday.”

Something felt off, they felt off. The shorter one of the two, Yoongi you remember his name being, you caught his eyes wandering-- drifting past your shoulder in a futile attempt to see inside your home. Shifting uncomfortably, you leaned your shoulder against the wooden door frame in an attempt to block his view. You didn’t know where this conversation was heading, and you really didn’t want to find out, either.

The taller one, Namjoon, opened his mouth to speak before he was quickly interrupted.

“The old man that used to live here,” Yoongi began, eyes narrowing at you underneath his fringe. His voice was relatively monotone, yet somehow aggressive and accusatory. “What happened to him.”

Namjoon whipped his head around to look at the shorter man, eyebrows furrowed and expression tight. The frustration was evident in his voice as he quickly turned back to you, “I apologize for him-”

“It’s okay,” you waved off quickly, though slightly hurt by the bluntness of his tone. Clearing your throat you fought hard to fight back tears, not wanting to embarrass yourself in front of strangers by completing breaking down. You let out a small sigh before continuing, “My grandfather, he passed away a couple months ago. He left all of his belongings to me in his will, so I-I wanted to move in to make sure nothing happened to his home and research.”

At that, both of them seemed to deflate in relief, their shoulders less tense-- though at the mention of the word ‘grandfather’ they seemed to be more intrigued.

“I’m so sorry for your loss,” Namjoon spoke, his voice low. He stuck his hand out in a handshake, his palm large against your own smaller one as you gripped it gently. His hand was warm, incredibly so, despite the freezing temperature he was standing in. “I can’t imagine the pain you’re going through right now and I apologize for intruding.”

“Thank you,” you replied, the warmth of his palm comforting. “Would you like to come in for some coffee? Tea?”

“We would love to,” Looking regretful, Namjoon turned to look at Yoongi briefly, the latter’s eyes never once leaving your face. “But we should really get going. Next time, maybe?”

Smiling, you nodded your head in agreement. “Next time, then.”

You watched silently as they left, your hands stilling on the door as you went to close it. They had stated earlier that their home was miles away from yours, yet you didn’t see them getting into a car or any mode of transportation to make their way back-- instead the sound of their shoes crunching on the gravel of your driveway as they walked seemed to echo in the quiet early morning air.

Furrowing your eyebrows you shook your head, letting out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. The whole interaction left a weird taste in your mouth, though you attempted not to linger over it too much, unsure if you’d realistically ever see them again. Closing the door with a dull thud your bare feet padded against the cold wood flooring as you made your way to the living room, relighting the fireplace with a match to help fill the room with much needed warmth.

------

You spent most of the day unpacking your things. The interaction early this morning with Namjoon and Yoongi was pushed to the back of your mind now as you attempted to settle in. Surprisingly enough it wasn’t as difficult as you initially thought, though you guess you can place it on this place being your second home for thirteen years of your life.

As the cabin was located semi remotely and the nearest town wasn’t anywhere close to you, your grandfather had built a tiny farm in the “backyard” to produce his own food. He refused to hunt live animals to eat, his reasoning being he didn’t have the heart to do so; a lifestyle you adopted from him during your younger years. Putting on a thick, warm hoodie to help combat the chilly winds you ventured outside to check on it.

What you expected to see were rotting and decaying plants, seeing as there had been nobody around to take care of them for months.

But they weren't.

The fruits and vegetables looked as fresh and healthy as they could be, vibrant against the dull earthy ground they grew on. There had to be a logical explanation for this, produce couldn’t have survived as long as they have without being eaten by wildlife or destroyed by the elements and lack of care. Getting down on your knees, you moved to check the roots of the plants for any disturbances or ruptures when you heard it.

Behind you there was the snapping of a twig, the sound irritatingly loud in the otherwise quiet forest. You stilled, breath hitching in your throat as you tried to process what was happening. Perhaps you were being paranoid, you thought. You lived in a forest, there were wild animals all around you and one twig snapping shouldn’t warrant such a reaction.

That was until the sound was followed by a low growl. It was quiet enough to not be heard if you weren’t paying enough attention, but loud enough to make the hairs rise on the back of your neck. Turning your head slowly, the first thing you tried to do was figure out who, or what, was there before turning your body completely.

Standing about 10 feet away from you was a wolf. It’s coat was as black as a clear night sky, sleek and silky yet slightly matted with the only color being the dulled amber of its eyes. Its snout was pulled back in a snarl, the stained whites of its elongated canines taunting you while its eyes stared directly at you in aggression.

You remembered distinctly about the values your grandfather instilled in you when you were young, to be gentle to the wolves that live on this land and to approach them with respect. So you raised the palm of your hand silently-- the situation eliciting a strange sense of deja vu--the act in itself a sign of non aggression.

It didn’t work.

The wolf’s growls got progressively louder as it stalked towards you, it’s massive paws sinking heavily into the earth below. You didn’t have time to react before it lunged for you, the plants behind you smothering behind as you fell back, the smell of blood penetrating the air as the thorns of the blackberry bush behind you pierced your skin. The palm of your hand stained a deep wine red.

It’s growls seemed to reverberate in your skull as saliva dripped from it’s bared canines and onto your cheek, it’s hot breath making you choke up in fear. The feeling of it’s heavy paws on your chest made you feel like you were suffocating, pushing you further into the wet soil.

You were scared. Unbelievably scared. The adrenaline and panic was pulsing through your veins like blood, hot and thick and circulating your entire body without pause.

It’s only been a day and you’re already staring at the face of death.

“Please,” you begged, your eyes wet with tears as they fell down into your hair and mixed with the soil below. To whom or what you were pleading to you did not know, your eyes slowly drifting from it’s bared teeth to your own pitiful reflection staring back at you in its eyes. The creature seemed to falter at the eye contact, eyes widening a fraction before you see it’s nose wiggling from your peripheral vision.

Slowly you could see the wolf’s snarl fade, it’s large paws stepping off your chest and back into the wet earth as it continued to back away from you. You were scared and confused, your body terrifying still until you heard the sound of branches snapping and leaves crunching as the wolf made its way back into the forest where it came from, sparing one last look at your fear-stricken form before disappearing from your view completely.

You lied there silently for what felt like an eternity, your hands shaking as they gripped the dirt, the pain from your cut dulled from shock. Getting up quickly you rushed inside, taking off all your clothes and turning the shower dials to the hottest setting. It burned, your hands still slightly trembling as you scrubbed yourself roughly and watched as the water ran down the drain pink before eventually turning clear. The shower didn’t do much to calm your nerves.

---

“This was a bad idea,” you mumbled to yourself, brushing your wet hair away from your face with your hand. There was a heavy bandage wrapped around it, the wound not as painful as it was a couple of hours ago but still pulsing painfully if you moved it the wrong way. You stared blankly at your bedroom wall, your thoughts blank as you noted with dull interest how the light birch color contrasted nicely with the darkly tinted wood flooring.

Maybe you should have stayed at your apartment in Seoul. It was safe there, arguably so, and you could’ve collected all your grandfather’s belongings and had them stored somewhere rather than secluding yourself away from the rest of civilization like a recluse.

But the guilt of abandoning the last familial connection you had with your mother out of teenage stupidity really weighed down on you, keeping you up at night and consistently plaguing your thoughts. You had originally thought that moving here into his cabin and protecting, perhaps continuing, his wildlife research would bring you some sense of closure or relief. Maybe you were wrong.

Letting out a deep sigh you moved to open a drawer on your bedside table, pulling out an old faux leather bound book. You had found it in your grandfather’s study while you were cleaning out some storage, tucked neatly in a hand built bookcase between a plethora of others that looked vaguely similar. The only difference was the golden wolf stamped onto the spine and cover, reflecting beautifully as the light from your lamp bounced off of it.

When you ran your finger over the design it felt smooth beneath your fingertips, stunningly beautiful yet the only thing you could think of when you saw it was the beast that almost killed you earlier today.

Opening the book gently, what greeted you was the illustration of a howling wolf-- the black ink contrasting the off-white page with the word ‘Lycanthropy’ written below it. You ran your finger over the ink, feeling the coarseness of the wrinkled paper as you diligently flipped the stained pages, each one filled with notes, sketches and anatomy studies of what your grandfather deemed ‘lycanthropes’.

Of course you had entertained the idea of werewolves when younger, though once you were out of your preteen years you had scrapped the idea entirely as you knew it was biologically impossible. But when your grandfather was alive all he talked to you about was the wolves and how special they were, how they were different. You were young at the time so of course you didn’t question it, though now you didn’t know what to think. Your whole reality and what you knew to be real, not real or just simple folklore used to entertain and scare children was being flipped on you and your mind was a muddled mess.

If these creatures actually existed, these werewolves--or lycanthropes as your grandfather so politely called them-- what stopped other things like vampires and witches from being real too?

You shut the book in haste, anger quickly replacing confusion as you clenched your fists. What you were angry about you didn’t know, but you knew you weren’t going to let this go easily. You needed answers, and you were going to get them.

--------

It’s been several days since your encounter with the wolf and the discovery that werewolves were, in fact, real. Or, so you assumed. You haven’t been outside since the attack, holding yourself up in the study to read every book that lined the shelves and sort through every scrap paper abandoned on his desk in an attempt to find answers.

The early morning sun was beaming through the window, warm against your face as you slept peacefully. You’d fallen asleep in the study again, your face squished up against the cold wood of the desk and the ink stained papers after a long night of reading and studying. It was nothing like you’d ever seen before, every detail about every living and non living thing that dwelled in this forest was written and logged into separate books and carefully stored so they wouldn’t get ruined or lost with age.

You blinked your eyes sleepily, stretching your arms above your head as you winced at the pain in your neck from sleeping in an uncomfortable position for days. There was an awful taste in your mouth and a pounding headache making your eyes squeeze shut in pain, the bright sunlight streaming through your window not doing much to help with the dull throbbing in your head. You suppose the lack of food, water and sleep finally caught up with you.

Rubbing your temples with your fingertips you vaguely remembered reading about a natural migraine remedy that grew in the forest somewhere in one of your grandfather’s books. There was no asprin here, so you had to make due with what you had.

Quickly sorting through the mess of papers on the desk you found what you were looking for, an old looking book with various plants huddled together stamped in golden ink on the front cover and spine. You flipped through the pages, finally locating a detailed illustration of the peppermint herb you needed and a description of its uses located directly below it.

You got ready quickly, changing clothes and taking care of your hygiene before grabbing the book you needed off the kitchen table and making your way to the back door. Before you could place your hand on the handle you froze, a sharp pain irritating your palm as you clenched your fist at the memory of the dangers that lurk within those woods. You weren’t as scared as you used to be, more educated and less naive than you were before but the weariness was still there.

The metal handle was cold against the palm of your hand, the outside air welcoming against your face as you stepped outside. The weather was more forgiving than it used to be, the sun shining bright overhead and the temperature pleasantly warm. Your shoes touched the forest floor for the first time in what felt like forever, the book you needed tucked protectively underneath your arm as you made your way through the forest.

It was hard to identify the difference between the herbs at first look as they all looked the same to the inexperienced eye, though you diligently tried your best.

Bending down, your knees touched the wet earth as you sorted through the bushes, comparing the leaves to the ones that were sketched onto the pages. It wasn’t long until you heard the slight rustle of the bushes behind you, your fists tightening around the pages of your book.

“You can come out you know,” you began, plucking the peppermint leaves off their stem before getting up and turning to where the sound originated from. “I know you’re out there.”

You heard it before you saw it. It’s low growl pierced the tense air as it finally exposed itself to you, the same massive paws that pinned you to the ground and made you choke on your own fear left dents in the moist forest floor as it stepped from behind the trunk of a young redwood tree. It’s teeth were bared in a sharp snarl, its once dull amber eyes now a brilliant shade of vermillion as it stared at you in distrust.

“I know what you are,” you spoke, voice wobbling as tears clouded your vision. “You’re a lycan. A werewolf.”

The lycan’s growls grew louder at your confession, the hairs on it’s back rising and it’s posture getting defensive. You recognized the wolf from the one in the picture resting above your fireplace, it’s then shy gaze replaced with a look of distrust.

It seemed just as angry and confused as you were, yet you didn’t know if that comforted you or not.

“My grandfather, Il Sung, you knew him didn’t you. He studied your kind for years and recorded everything in his books and you let him.” The lycan seemed to falter at that, it’s posture slackening slightly-- caught off guard. You decided to test your luck, slowly stepping closer and watched as the lycans growls continued to grow, though they didn’t seem as threatening as before. “You let him because you trusted him, and he trusted you. I moved here to protect his home, his research, and by extension that means you!”

You shook your head, the anger bubbling inside you quickly rising to the surface as hot tears stained your cheeks. “I’m not scared of you, you beast. Why would I be?”

Tension quickly rose, the once pleasant air now suffocating with each word that passed your lips. “You’re a coward! Nothing but a sheep in wolf’s clothing.”

Your voice echoed in the otherwise quiet forest, every emotion that you’ve managed to keep at bay and hidden inside of yourself spilling out without your consent. The anger, the guilt, the sadness-- all of it. “I have done nothing to you. Nothing! Yet you come into my home and threaten me? Me?!”

The lycan’s growls stopped completely, it’s posture relaxing and it’s eyes returning back to their normal bronze shade as the only sound reverberating off the trees was your emotional mess. There was a quiet pause before you continued.

“I’m not here to hurt you, ” you began, never once breaking eye contact with the creature in front of you. “I loved my grandfather more than you could know, and I’m just as hurt and confused about everything that’s happened as you are. So please, just give me a damn break.”

The silence following was deafening, you both didn’t dare to move as you stared at each other for what felt like an eternity-- both of you standing your ground. Your face was flushed with tears as you watched in confusion as the wolf trekked closer to you, it’s movements cautious and slow. The closer the lycan got the more you noticed how large it was, reaching up to the center of your belly in height with muscles rippling through its inky black coat at each step it took. It was more intimidating than you’d admit to yourself.

The first touch of it’s wet nose against your palm made you flinch.

Yesterday you had finally removed the bandage from around your cut, opting to let it breathe and putting a natural ointment on it to help the healing process. It was still relatively fresh, only a few days passing from the time you had received it to now, so it stung slightly at the first pass of the lycan’s rough tongue. It’s ears were slightly pinned back as it licked your wound, looking more like an oversized dog than the beast that tried to kill you a week prior.

Your left hand, the one that was uninjured, shook slightly as you raised it, your fingers carefully embedding themselves in the silky fur of the lycan. It stilled at the feeling, a low growl vibrating through its body before it continued its ministrations. When it was finished it stepped back slightly, its eyes flashing the same bright red it had before when it first showed itself to you.

Stepping back, your hands felt cold in the absence of the lycan’s warmth, fingers clenching in a fist as you furrowed your eyebrows. The headache from earlier seemed to come back worse than it originally was earlier, the bearing sunlight suddenly too harsh on your eyes.

This whole situation was oddly familiar, and it confused you. A lot.

You moved to make your way back to the cabin without another word or sparing glance, weaving through the trees and leaving the lycan abandoned far behind you.

-------

Early the next morning you found yourself in the garden. The weather was still pleasantly warm, a slight breeze leaving goosebumps along your bare arms as you worked on plucking the ripe fruits and veggies from their stems and throwing away the rotten ones. Your headache from yesterday had eventually subsided after following the instructions written down for you, a fairly tiny jar of peppermint oil managing to save you from a night-long nightmare.

It wasn’t long after that you heard it’s arrival. Although the crunch of fallen leaves no longer scared you with it’s rather cliche implications, you were still surprised to see the familiar figure of the wolf with an inky black coat standing in the treeline.

“You’re back,” you breathed, shock flooding your features as you watched it saunter towards you. It stopped relatively close, only about six feet away from the garden where you were kneeling. At first you were unsure if it even heard you, though the huff that passed it’s lips as it sat down quietly to bask underneath the afternoon sun proved otherwise. You noticed its auburn eyes following your every move; watching, observing, thinking.

Knowing there was somebody residing underneath that wolf’s skin made you feel vulnerable and exposed underneath it’s heavy gaze, the lycan never once moving from its position underneath the sun. Originally you thought that somewhere in the study there would be records of the wolves that lived in the forest; their names, photos, drawings-- anything.

You found nothing.

It frustrated you more than you’d like to admit. No matter how much you read or studied, you still felt completely naive to the world suddenly shoved in front of you.

“When I was younger, every summer I would come here to visit my grandpa,” you suddenly spoke, eyes intently trained on the tomatoes you were currently picking. The lycan didn’t seem to make any moves at the sound of your voice. “And all he would talk about was the wolves. It was always about the wolves.”

Getting up, you brushed the soil off your pants before turning to face the wolf completely, it’s gaze never leaving yours as you spoke. Sighing quietly, you rested the basket of freshly picked produce against your hip to close your eyes and collect your thoughts.

It felt nice to talk to somebody after being alone for so long, even if they couldn’t talk back.

“My mother died shortly after my birth,” you explained, moving to set down the basket on the edge of the porch. You chuckled lightly, wringing your hands together as your gaze moved to look at the clear blue sky above, tears brimming your eyes. “And my father, he hoped that by sending me here I-I would have a chance to have a connection with my mother’s side before it was gone completely.”

Your voice was quiet as you continued. “And I gave that up for my own teenage selfishness”

It was quiet for a long time after that. None of you moved, the birds chirping high in the treetops as they mingled together and the distant sound of rabbits running through the brush filling the void. You swung your legs thoughtlessly as you sat on the edge of the porch, the rough material of your jeans shielding you from any unnecessary splitters as your back touched the cold, rough wood when you lied down.

You spoke up after a while of silence, voice low and impersonal as you focused on the gentle swaying of the trees. “If I could go back and spend more time with him I would, y’know?”

The wood was rough on your elbows as you got up to rest on them, your gaze once again returning to the lycan. It still felt so surreal. “But I can’t. So I just have to make due with what I have left now.”

You got up without another word, grabbing the basket of fruits and vegetables and moving to make your way back inside. Turning around, you watched as the wolf followed your every move with its eyes intently, a silent goodbye resting on your tongue as the door shut behind you.

-----

It’s been a month, and you were adjusting quickly.

Your routine has stayed fairly the same the entire duration; during the day you would venture out into the forest to collect herbs and spices or sit on the porch underneath the warm sun, while your nights were spent locked in the study with a dull lamp glow illuminating the stained white pages. It was comfortable, you were comfortable.

Surprisingly enough, the lycan would continue to come by everyday. Whether you were taking care of the garden or sketching quietly on the porch-- it would come. At first its presence would slightly bother you, seeing as it would sit in the exact same spot everyday and just stare at you while you worked, but gradually with each passing week you managed to get more relaxed with each other.

“What do you think?” you said, turning the sketchbook over to show the wolf the portrait sketched on it. The lycan was laying on the porch next to you, head resting between its paws and it’s coat shining underneath the glaring mid-day sun. It wasn’t too hot per say, but you couldn’t imagine the summer heat felt too good on its thick dark coat.

Lifting its head up the wolf looked at your drawing, a huff passing it’s lips as its tail wagged back and forth slowly against the wood. It’s large paw rested on your thigh as it stretched, a low whine catching your attention as it’s large head moved to rest on your lap. You smiled, setting down your sketchbook and pencil next to you before entangling your fingers gently in the fur of its back.

It was still kinda shocking how fast your relationship blossomed. One day the lycan refused to be more than a couple feet away from you and growled whenever so much as raised a hand to touch it, the next it whined if you didn’t want it’s head in your lap. If you were being completely honest with yourself you didn’t know how to feel about this.

There was still somebody in that wolf, thinking, watching, feeling--and you didn’t know their name or who they were. Hell, you didn’t even know if it was a man or a woman.

Sighing, you closed your eyes for a short moment. You felt wrong for looking, truly you did, but curiosity managed to get the best of you in the moment.

It was a man.

You didn’t know if that made you feel better or not.

-------

The next day wasn’t like anything you expected.

Your morning had started off slow, an awful crick in your neck from falling asleep with your head in a book for the third time in a row that week. It was approximately noon when you got out of the shower, feeling more refreshed than you were an hour prior and a cup of freshly made peppermint tea warming your hands. The only plans you had for today were to get more ginger root and yarrow to help with some of the dull pain from your cut, the wound healing up nicely so far--though you suspected there will be a scar left behind.

When you had exited your cabin you had expected to see the lycan sitting waiting for you like he always does, but the spot he had claimed as his was cold and empty. You tried not to overthink it too much, albeit you were a little disappointed at the lack of company as you weaved through the trees.

It was about an hour since you had first left, sweat started to bead at your forehead as you looked for the herbs you needed quickly. The leaves from the trees above helped shelter some of the sweltering heat and provide some shade, though your clothes still continued to stick to your body unpleasantly.

There was an uncomfortable feeling steadily creeping up your neck, your hands stilling on the forest ground as you strained your ears to listen for anything that may be off. Behind you there was suddenly a low growl, the sound of stray twigs snapping under immense weight.

You had thought that it was just your lycan friend--you’ve yet to actually learn his name yet, you were still working on it--fooling around and trying to scare you like he used to do. Smiling, you stood up and turned around.

That was your first mistake.

Gasping, you stumbled back out of fear. Standing there was a wolf, a fairly large one at that, with muddy red fur and a deranged look in its eyes as it snarled at you. It’s growls got louder as it stalked closer to you, the fur on its back raised and saliva flying from it’s canines as it barked at you in aggression.

Your heart was beating erratically against your chest, fear coiling around your throat like a snake and tightening so hard it felt like it was hard to breathe. You stepped back, your movements slow and steady in an attempt to not show any signs of aggression--the creature not slowing any signs of backing down as it continued its advancements towards you.

The wolf lunged at you unexpectedly, it’s jaws snapping a few inches away from your lower stomach and saliva splattering against your thighs. Fear took over as you ran, thorns and branches whipping at your exposed legs and creating blistering marks in their wake. Your lungs burned painfully, the sound of the creature quickly catching up taunting you as you attempted to outrun it.

You were foolish to think you could outsmart a creature of speed and agility, tears of frustration and fear burning your cheeks as they fell and disappeared on the forest floor. Before you could register what happened there was sharp pain in your leg, your screams piercing the silent forest.

There was blood. A lot of blood. Your hands shook violently as they touched the cold metal of the bear trap currently hooked in your leg, the pain immeasurable and quickly spreading throughout your entire body with no signs of rest.

“No, no, no!” you cried, shaking your head violently and attempting to pry the trap off of you. It ended up just causing you more pain, blood dripping from the wound and soaking the dirt below you.

The growls were back, louder than before as the creature busted through the foliage with a murderous look in its eyes. It’s barks and snarls ridiculing you as you hysterically tried to rip the metal off, hot tears running down your face and your cries getting lost in the ruckus.

The thought of dying out here, alone, broke your heart.

Everything felt distant, you could feel yourself passing out. The only thing you could discern from your quickly blurring vision was two large figures on the ground, fighting and snarling through a clash of bared teeth. You couldn’t hear anything through the ringing in your ears, the sickening crunch of bone being the last thing to echo in your head as your chest heaved slowly and your fingers turned cold. You watched drearily as the figure pinned underneath the other fall limp against the ground.

The last thing that entered your peripheral before you blacked out was glowing red eyes surrounded by inky darkness.

----------

It was quiet, the only sounds in the room being your gentle breathing and the rough scratching of a pen against paper. Your fists clenched around the softness of the blankets swathed around you, the sun harsh against your eyes as you blearily opened them and grimaced at the awful, stale taste in your mouth. A headache was consistently pounding against your head, mingling with the dulled pain coming from your leg that made you whimper quietly.

“You’re awake,” somebody said beside you, their voice loud in the otherwise quiet room. There was suddenly a warm hand on your forehead, feeling for a temperature briefly before it left just as quick as it came. “I’m glad. You’ve been out for awhile now.”

Panic struck your entire being at the foreign voice, your eyes squinting as you attempted to look at the source through your blurry vision. It was a man, he had a somewhat baby face which was accompanied by broad shoulders hidden underneath a plain black t-shirt; his dark hair falling over the worried look on his face when he leaned over the bed to look at you.

“Who-who are you,” you asked, your voice wavering as you attempted to back away from the stranger. There was a sharp pain in your leg as you quickly sat up, moving to push yourself against the corner of the bed in an attempt to get as far away from him as possible. “Where am I?”

“Calm down, it’s okay,” He spoke, his voice gentle as he raised his hands to not show any harm. His eyebrows were furrowed underneath his hair, a deep frown on his lips as he moved his gaze down to your leg that was hidden beneath the sheets. “My name is Seokjin, I’ve been helping you recover from your injuries the last few days. Do you remember what happened?”

Shaking your head, you wrung your hands in the blankets uncomfortably as you tried to process the situation. Your memory was extremely foggy, bits and pieces at the forefront of your mind but nothing too significant. A ll you could remember was the feeling of the wind burning your lungs, how the tears felt as they burned your face and the absolute fear that consumed your entire body.

You stared at the door a couple feet away from you, thinking of a way to get as far away from this person as possible. Realistically you knew that even if you tried to run you wouldn’t get that far, your injury preventing you from doing so. That couldn’t stop you from trying, though.

“Please don’t do anything you’re going to regret,” Seokjin sighed, following your line of sight. When he looked back at you his eyes were a vivid shade of gold, almost like the wild dandelions that were growing near the edge of your cabin, your own widening in shock.

You remembered reading somewhere about the varying eye colors of lycans and what they signified, the different ranks present in a pack. Contrary to popular belief a pack’s dynamic wasn’t based on the submissiveness of those considered to be weaker or inferior, rather it was a system built on the caring nature of a single lycan’s personality-- if they were born leaders or natural caretakers at heart.

Omegas were blessed with yellow eyes that resembled the early morning sun and are generally the most caring, often given the weighty responsibility of caring for young pups or tending to the injured. Betas had eyes the color of the deep ocean and are regarded as the peacekeepers, the safety net. They’re calm and do most of the logical thinking.

Then there’s Alphas. They have taunting red eyes and are the primary leaders, usually bigger and stronger than the rest of the pack to make sure everybody stays in line instead of going awry or rogue. Their main responsibility is to keep the pack safe, to lead.

“Y-you’re a lycan?” you whispered, voice shaky. Admittedly you felt more pacified than you did a few moments prior, though you still didn’t completely trust this lycan or his intentions.

Unsurprisingly Seokjin didn’t seem shocked by your knowing, a small smile tugging at his lips as he slowly lowered his arms to rest them by his side.

“What happened to me.” you demanded quietly.

The lycan sighed, a distraught look on his face as a hand came up to comb through his hair. To be truthful, Seokjin didn’t know exactly what to say to that. He felt it wasn’t fair for him to speak on it further without his brother being present, afterall he wasn’t there when the incident occurred and he knew how much the other wanted to see you when you woke up.

“I think that it’s better if Jeongguk explains that to you.” He eventually spoke, voice low and a knowing look in his eyes. You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion at his reply.

“Who?”

“You’ll recognize him when you see him.” With that Seokjin left the room, closing the door softly behind him. You could hear his footsteps quickly fading as he left, your shoulders falling with a sigh you didn’t realize you were holding. It was quiet for a while after that, the soft chirping of birds outside seeping through the open window next to you and the atmosphere almost serene in nature.

Curiosity managed to get the better of you, your hands gripping the blankets covering your leg as you carefully untucked it, grimacing at what you saw. Your entire lower leg was tore up, a couple stitches suturing close some of the worse ones near your ankle and a series of smaller cuts and blisters sweltering above them. Everything was covered in some form on semi-translucent film, yarrow you believed it was, and was extremely tender to the touch as you gently prodded the areas with your fingers.

“You shouldn’t be touching that.”

Whipping your head around at the sound of the voice, your eyes quickly landing on a figure standing shyly in the doorway. He was young, that much was obvious, no older than twenty with hair the same shade as coal and big, doe eyes that stared at you in earnest. Jeongguk, you would believe Seokjin said his name was.

You didn’t speak as he stepped further into the room, nervousness dripping from his form like honey as he opened and closed his mouth in an attempt to form words.

“I’m sorry,” he eventually let out, eyes downcast on the polished wooden floor beneath his feet. “This shouldn’t have happened. I’m sorry.”

Opting to stay silent you watched the boy from beneath a curious, questioning gaze. You were fairly certain you didn’t recognize his face from anywhere, but you could feel a sense of familiarity between the two of you.

He kept his face down, hidden away from your scrutinizing gaze but you could still see his eyes turn from their normal dark brown to a deep cherry wine color at his obviously distraught emotional state.

You could recognize those eyes anywhere, no matter what happened. It was the lycan that visited you every day, the one you befriended and grew to trust. You felt more at ease than you did before.

Shifting on the bed, you sat up before speaking. “Do you know where am I, Jeongguk?”

If he was shocked at the sound of his name passing through your lips he didn’t show it, opting to shift slightly closer to the bed where you were situated. You could see the apprehensiveness apparent on his face, worried about how you would react to the information he was eventually going to give you.

“You’re in my home, we brought you here after the attack.”

You nodded, furrowing your eyebrows as you processed his words.

“About that,” you whispered, nervous and unsure of how to word your question properly. “What exactly happened that day, Jeongguk?”

Jeongguk sighed, sitting down on the edge of the bed without thinking of how you would react and burying his face in his hands. To be honest, he felt awful about what happened. It was his fault, their fault.

“Recently there were issues with a rogue intruding on our territory,” He began, his eyes solely focused on the birch flooring. “We were out patrolling the borders when I managed to catch his scent.”

From there Jeongguk explained everything that occurred, sparing you some of the more gory details of the altercation he had with the lone wolf at his rather unexpected arrival, stopping periodically to gauge your reaction. It felt odd having somebody explain to you what happened to your own body, the memories still buried beneath the heaviness of shock and denial. Maybe that was for the best, you thought.

“I’m sorry.”

Furrowing your eyebrows you moved to look at the boy, your mind still reeling as you placed the pieces together. “This isn’t your fault.”

“But it is!” He abruptly stood up, burying his hands in his hair and his eyes shifting. “I-I should have been there, with you. We should have driven the rogue out before anything like this could happen.”

Both of you stayed silent after that.

Technically he was right, if he had gotten the rogue lycan off his territory none of this would have happened, you wouldn’t be lying here injured and confused. But you also knew deep down he did everything he could to prevent it.

--------

A few days have passed since you woke up, your leg felt significantly better than it had in the beginning and the swelling was greatly reduced after each night. Jeongguk visited you every morning and stayed a couple hours to help keep you entertained, bringing a blank notebook and some pencils with him as you two drew to pass the time. Sometimes you talked, sometimes you didn’t. But you were comfortable.

Seokjin would come in to check on you and your injury at least two times a day, washing it with cold water to get rid of any dirt that may cause an infection and replacing the yarrow treatment before bandaging it up again.

“Where did you learn so much about medicine?” you asked one day, watching as Seokjin finished up wrapping your leg with piqued interest.

He smiled, standing up from where he was sitting on the edge of the bed next to you and gathering up his supplies. The clothes he was wearing today were rather simple, a loose white shirt tucked into black ripped jeans. He looked good, you thought.

“Il sung, your grandfather, taught me actually,” there was a fond look on his face as he spoke, his fingers stilling on the bowl of yarrow he used to soak your leg a couple moments prior.

“Were you close?”

Seokjin nodded, looking at you with golden eyes from beneath his lashes. You reminded him so much of Il sung that it hurt, the look in your eyes as you spoke to him and your rather gentle disposition almost an exact copy.

“Very.”

--------

It’s been a week now, and you were getting considerably restless. In the entire duration you’ve been staying here you haven’t left the room once; there was a bathroom across from your bed and food was brought to you regularly by either Seokjin or Jeongguk, so you never had a reason to leave. But now that was going to change.

Swinging your legs gently over the bed, you pushed the heavy blankets off of you and carefully made your way to the door. The wood was relatively cold against your bare feet, the obnoxiously oversized t-shirt Jeongguk had given you to wear after you took a shower brushed against your black sweats, a slight limp in your leg present.

It was silent when you first stepped out. There were a couple other doors next to yours, all of which were closed and locked with a staircase leading down to the lower floor. Your hand held against the railing as you carefully limped down the steps, observing how everything was engrossed in a sheet of darkness with the absence of the lights being turned on.

There was nobody in the main room from what you could tell, nor the open kitchen that was located in front of a rather large sliding glass window overlooking the backyard. The cabin was relatively modern, the walls a light birch color and the flooring darkly tinted; it felt similar to your own home, a fact that made you feel more comfortable.

What captured your attention the most was that it was too quiet, too desolate. You knew that at least two lycans lived here, Seokjin and Jeongguk, so there had to be more hiding in the shadows somewhere. Wolves run in a pack rather than alone, so the only question was where they were.

Moving from the kitchen to the main area, you smiled at the feeling of your feet coming in contact with the fluffy rug laid out on the floor, the material soft and warm against your bruised soles. There were a couple pictures hanging on the walls to add some decoration, but not too many as you looked around. Turning to observe more of the living area, you raised your eyebrows at what you saw.

There was a wolf laying on the couch, a heavy blanket covering most of its body as its vivid blue eyes stared lazily at you. It had earthy brown fur, not as dark as Jeongguk’s but not that light either, cream white and tawny decorating around its snout, chest and one of its ears. You recognized it from the picture sitting above your fireplace mantle back at home.

“Hi,” you smiled, a little put off at the prolonged eye contact it insisted on making. No matter how many lycans you surround yourself with, you’ll never get over how intimidating their eyes are.

The wolf seemed to perk up at the sound of your voice, getting up and stretching lazily before excitedly bounding over to you. It was tall, reaching up to the middle of your stomach in height with a slightly lanky but muscular build.

It’s snout was immediately buried in your stomach when it got close enough, sniffing and wagging its tail almost like an oversized dog. You giggled at the feeling of it’s tongue against your bare skin, it’s tongue rough against your navel as it stuck its head underneath your shirt. It was a little too friendly--you almost forgot there was actually a person in that wolf’s body instead of just an animal.

“I see you’ve met Taehyung.”

Turning to look at the source of the voice, disbelief took over your features at what, moreso who, you saw. Perhaps you should have seen it coming, and in all honesty you think deep down you did. You just wonder how many other surprises are out there waiting for you at this point.

“Namjoon?”

He flashed you a dimpled smile in reply, placing the grocery bags he was carrying in his hands onto the kitchen island. His silver blonde hair was covering his forehead, a little longer than the last time you saw him but overall nothing really changed. A couple of others came strolling in after him, their hands full with varying other items and smiles stretching their faces as they laughed at something you were unaware of.

Jeongguk came in next, his smile immediately fading at the sight of you and Taehyung. His eyes changed to their blood red color, glaring at the wolf in front of you and the rather friendly position both of you were in.

“Back off Tae.” He growled lowly, rolling his eyes at the smug huff that came out of the Beta’s mouth. Taehyung was testing his limits and he knew it.

Either way the wolf complied and stepped back, the air suddenly cold against your stomach where the immense heat of his head used to be. Seokjin came in last, mumbling under his breath about something you didn’t care to strain your ears to find out, his eyes widening at the sight of you.

“What the hell are you doing out of bed?” Seokjin stammered, dropping the bags he had in his hands and quickly rushing towards your side. He rolled up the leg of your sweats to check on your injury, making sure none of the stitches were pulled in your little endeavor out of your room.

“Seokjinn,” you whined, trying your best to balance on one leg as the lycan in question examined the other. “I was sick of being cooped up in the room all day, I needed to get out for a little bit.”

Standing up from his crouched position, Seokjin sighed as he gave you a disapproving look. He had his hands on his hips like a scolding mother, the imagery in your head making you smile.

“Do you understand how dangerous that could be if you pulled one of your stitches coming down the steps?”

As bad as you felt for doing so, you completely tuned out Seokjin’s voice. You didn’t feel bad for leaving the room without his permission first, and you weren’t going to let him make you think so either, even though you knew that he was only scolding you out of the wellness in his heart.

Your attention quickly shifted to a door that was opening on the second floor, Seokjin’s voice little more than white nose as a very sleepy looking man soon came into view. It was Yoongi, you remembered his name being, his head of black hair a mess atop his head and his clothes in disarray as he made his way down the steps.

“Wow Yoongi, way to look presentable for guests,” One of the men you didn’t recognize taunted, laughing when the other flipped him off. He had light blonde hair and a wide smile, a little intimidating but an otherwise welcoming aura to him.

You and Yoongi made brief eye contact as he passed into the main room, his eyes flashing blue quickly in an intimidating glare as he sat down on the couch.

“Well since everybody is here,” Namjoon began, his voice capturing everybody’s attention in a matter of seconds. Even Jeongguk looked up from where he was stuffing his face with a sandwich you didn’t even know where he got. “I think we’re due for some introductions.”

You soon found out that the man who patronized Yoongi was named Hoseok, his bright smile catching you slightly off guard when he directed it at you for the first time. There was another, Jimin his name was, a little short and quiet with chocolate brown hair that was parted in the middle but he has a nice, gentle smile and a good heart from what you could tell.

-------

Later that evening you found yourself sitting on the couch watching T.V with Taehyung. Seokjin had made dinner for everybody about an hour prior, luckily he hadn’t made you return back to your room pending your full recovery so you had a chance to really get to know everybody.

You had become surprisingly comfortable with them pretty quick, helping put the groceries and other purchases from their once a month trip to the city where they belonged while making conversation. Everyone was nice to you, even Yoongi.

Taehyung had refused to shift back for reasons unknown to you, his head heavy in your lap as you ran your fingers through his soft fur but you didn’t complain. You could hear him whine when your fingers stopped petting him, a soft chuckle leaving your lips at the sound. In the short time you knew him, you could tell he was just attention starved and affection rather than a big scary wolf.

The sun had set quickly thereafter, the day quickly bleeding into the night as you finally felt the effects of the day wearing you out. Namjoon, Jeongguk and Yoongi had left somewhere into the woods about an hour ago, for what reason you didn’t really know but you didn’t feel like questioning them at the time, trusting it was important.

--------

Jeongguk groaned, the sound of his bones cracking back into place as he shifted sounded brutal even to his own ears. It was well into the night now, they had just gotten back from patrolling the borders for the third time in only a week. Ever since your attack he’s been paranoid about something like that happening again, his nights filled with sleepless regret as your attack replayed in his head like a bad dream. He tried not to think about it too much as he quickly pulled the clothes he left out on the porch over his naked body.

“You coming?” Yoongi called out to him in a gruff voice, staring at him from his position in the doorway of the sliding glass window. The moonlight shone lightly over his shirtless pale figure.

“Yea, in a bit.”

The black haired boy simply nodded, shutting the door behind him with a soft click. Jeongguk just needed time to think, to try to gather his thoughts before returning back inside and being forced to face his insecurities and fears. What happened that night, should have never happened. He was supposed to be there to protect you and he wasn’t, that was something he would never forgive himself for.

A couple minutes passed before he sighed, finally moving to go back inside. His eyes immediately fell on your sleeping form, the brightly flashing colors of the T.V reflecting off your face beautifully as a smile rested upon his lips. It was the same smile that immediately was replaced by a deep scowl at the sight of the lycan currently resting on your lap.

“You’re really pushing it, Tae,” Jeongguk growled, his fists clenching at his sides. Taehyung’s blue eyes only smugly stared at him in response, rolling over onto his back on the couch with his head still in your lap.

“Go.”

Taehyung growled at him quietly in response before lazily getting off the couch, the sounds of his nails padding against the wood echoing in the halls before it was replaced by the gruesome crunching of bones as they rearranged themselves back in place. You shivered at the sudden absence of the wolf’s warmth, your face scrunching up as you curled in on yourself on the couch. Jeongguk’s heart swelled at the sight.

Moving to turn the T.V off, the room was engulfed in silence and darkness as he came back to where you were resting, gently hooking his arms around your back and knees to bring you up to his chest. He walked up the stairs to where your room was located, placing you on the bed softly before carefully tucking you in.

He was falling, faster than he’d like to and worse than he expected.

--------

The sun was annoyingly bright against your eyes, your cheeks warm and flushed as they stretched in a wide smile while you watched the lycans interact with each other in the backyard below. You could see two wolves wrestling in the dirt a couple feet away, what you recognized as Jimin’s slightly smaller form pinning Taehyung beneath his paws as his exaggerated yelps caught your ears. Namjoon and Yoongi were sitting on the porch, their fur rustling slightly in the wind as they quietly observed. You didn’t know where the other two were.

It’s been two weeks since your attack, and two weeks since you’ve arrived at the pack house. Your injury was pretty much healed by now, minus a couple cuts and some bruises that were an ugly mix of green and purple, but Seokjin said you were pretty much ready to go back home whenever you were feeling up to it. You were extremely happy at the news, missing the feeling of fading white pages beneath your fingers and the wet soil on your knees as you took care of the garden.

The only issue you faced now was how you were going to tell Jeongguk about it.

Both of you have grown significantly closer, between the sparing glaces and the way your heart beats uncomfortably against your chest when one of the other pack members so much as mentions him, you would go as far as saying you fell for the lycan.

Sometimes the two of you would spend the nights together on his bed talking about nothing and everything at the same time from dusk till dawn, other times he would lead you to a secret lake in the early morning just to watch as the sky bleeds into stunning hues of crimson and rose right in front of your very eyes.

It was amazing, he was amazing. And that scared you. So much.

These last few years of your life have been filled with so much pain and loneliness, you don’t know if you could handle giving up possibly the best thing you’ve ever had. Jeongguk was something that came hurtling at you out of nowhere like a bullet, ripping through your chest and leaving you scrambling at each breath. He was pain and pleasure coexisting in one, something you didn’t know if you could handle at this point in your life.

The sound of the shower turning off managed to take you out of your thoughts, steam coming out of the bathroom as Jeongguk exited, roughly toweling his hair in an attempt to dry it and his sweats hanging low on his hips. He was in there for almost an hour in an attempt to sate his nerves, or more specifically after you yelled at him for pacing so long you were worried he would put a dent in the flooring. It gave you some much needed time to think.

“Hey,” Jeongguk whispered, sitting down next to you on the bed and following your gaze to watch the rest of his pack below with lidded vermillion eyes.

“Hey,” your eyes drifted down to his bare chest, your fingers reaching out on their own accord to touch the flattened scars that were littered there. They were slightly pink, more flesh toned and obviously old. The boy was quiet as he rested his hand on top yours, his skin incredibly warm and his heartbeat quickening beneath your palm.

You took a deep breath before finally opening up to him.

“Y’know, earlier today Seokjin said I was pretty much healed,” you spoke, linking your fingers together with the lycans quietly. You refused to look at his face, solely focusing on your entwined hands still resting above his heart. “He said that I can go home.”

Jeongguk was quiet at that, his grip around your palm tightening slightly. At the mention of the word ‘home’ he faltered, a sharp pain in chest as he felt his heart break slightly. He knew it was selfish for him to want you to stay here with him, to live with him, to be with him--but that didn’t stop him from desiring it.

“When are you leaving?” Jeongguk whispered, keeping his eyes on your intertwined hands. The look on his face and the sound of his voice made your heart hurt.

“Taehyung said he’d help me get ready in the morning,” your voice was quiet, your palm suddenly cold when the lycan got off the bed in haste. He stood in the center of your room, deathly quiet as he raised a hand to thread through his damp hair. “Make sure I get back home safely.”

His eyes seemed to glow in the sudden darkness of your room, the sun quickly retreating back into the horizon while the moon came to take its place in the sky. He didn’t know what to do, what to think. He knew he could still visit you like he used to, sit with his head in your lap and the feeling of your fingers combing through the tangles in his fur with the afternoon sun on his face, but he also knew deep down things wouldn’t be the same.

You were shocked when he came back, his palms warm against your cheeks as he looked into your eyes as he pleaded, “Stay here, with me. We can take care of you, I can take care of you. You wouldn’t be alone anymore.”

Tears welled up in your eyes, lip quivering and your voice cracking as you looked at the desperate look on his face. “I-I can’t. You know that.”

You couldn’t leave behind your life and everything that was entrusted to you to live with a pack of lycans, some of whom you’ve only known for a short two weeks. It was crazy, and if it was the full moon influencing his actions you didn’t know but the pleading look in his eyes broke your heart.

“I should go then,” Jeongguk dropped his hands from your face, backing up towards the door. He was looking everywhere but you.“The pack is waiting for me.”

You followed him as he made his way down the steps, slower than the lycan as you attempted to catch up to him. The attempt was futile, his hands were already gripping the handle to the sliding glass door and exiting before you could even make it past the main room. “Jeongguk, wait!”

The rest of the pack was waiting outside, already shifted and waiting impatiently as they stared at both of you. He ignored your voice, untying his sweats and pulling them down his legs as he got ready for the run. You turned around to give him some privacy, a deep flush covering your cheeks as you jumped at the sudden sound of bones shortening and elongating, cracking and rearranging as he shifted.

It wasn’t as quick and harmless as it appeared in movies or shows, the process agonizing long as it hurt your ears to listen to.

You only turned back around once it was silent, watching with glistening eyes as Namjoon led the rest of the pack into the darkness of the forest ahead of you. The pale moonlight of the full moon reflected off of Jeongguk’s coat, making him appear almost a dark blue color as he slowed to a stop behind everyone else.

He turned back to look at you, ears lowered against his head as you both just looked at each other. You didn’t know if he could see the tears staining your cheeks or the solemn look in your eyes, but if he did he didn’t acknowledge them as he ran to catch up with his brothers deep in the trees.

----------

The entire house seemed as if it was abandoned. There was no Seokjin yelling at one of the other boys for messing around in the kitchen while he was cooking, or Taehyung and Hoseok wrestling on the main room floor over whoever gets the last strip of bacon. The worst was the absence of Jeongguk’s gentle breathing as he laid next to you, sprawled out on your bed after a long night of talking as the gentle rise and fall of his chest lulled you back to sleep. It was too quiet, and you hated it.

It was almost six in the morning when you finally saw the first break in the treeline. The sun hasn’t come out yet, the sky still bathed in darkness but from what you could make out there were only six wolves tiredly trotting back to the house as opposed to seven. Furrowing your eyebrows, you lifted your head from where it was resting on top of your folded arms, recognizing each lycan almost immediately and noticing that the only one missing was Jeongguk.

By the time you made your way to the bottom of the steps the pack was already shifting, their exhausted groans reaching your ears as they pulled their clothes on with tired, battered breaths. The lycan you were looking for was nowhere in sight.

“Hey, Y/N,” you jumped slightly at the feeling of a hand on your skin, turning around to see Seokjin looking at you with a worried expression on his face. “What’s wrong?”

Confusion and worry laced your features as you looked around, your hope of expecting to see the black haired boy the more you searched dwindling. “Jeongguk, where is he?”

Seokjin only sighed in response, a look on his face you didn’t feel like acknowledging as his hand squeezed the flesh of your arm comfortingly. He opened his mouth to speak, “I think we should go back inside to talk-”

“No!” You pulled back from his grip, staring at him in disbelief as he attempted to shut down your inquiry. The others were looking at the both of you with empathetic gazes, making you feel gross and exposed. “Why isn’t he here, Seokjin? I need to talk to him.”

“We don’t know where he is,” Namjoon spoke lightly, his hand resting in the middle of Seokjin’s bare back as he slowly walked up from behind him. His eyes were gentle as he looked at you, their intimidating red color not doing much to help calm you. “He’ll be back, Y/N, I promise. He just needed time to think.”

Jeongguk needed time away because of you. You didn’t know how to react to that, your eyes downcast as the older Omega gently led you back inside. There was no protest this time, the exhaustion of everything finally catching up to you as settled to retiring yourself back to bed.

--------

Later that night you found yourself in the kitchen. It was dark, almost midnight the last time you checked, a bowl of barely touched cereal in front of you as you let yourself get lost in your thoughts.

Seokjin had come in about half an hour prior to talk with you, not necessarily about anything specific but you knew what he implied beneath all his questions and comments. It helped a little bit to discuss everything you were feeling with somebody who actually listened, and Seokjin had a natural ability to cheer you up.

You looked up at the sound of footsteps, sighing at the sight of Yoongi quickly coming into view. It wasn’t like you disliked the lycan, you two just didn’t have the strongest connection with each other yet and if you were being honest you were slightly intimidated by the black haired boy. He was quiet, always observing and barely talking.

Nobody spoke, not that you were surprised, the sound of your metal spoon clinking against the bowl sharp against the otherwise silent room. Yoongi stood with his back against the fridge, a bottle of water held tight between his nimble, pale fingers as he watched you with an intimidating gaze.

“We need to talk,” He suddenly spoke, moving to rest his forearms on the kitchen island. “About Jeongguk.”

You knew this was coming. Between Yoongi and Seokjin, you wouldn’t be surprised if the whole pack knew about what happened between you and Jeongguk. That doesn’t mean you want to speak to them about it, though.

“I didn’t do anything wrong.” your voice was quiet, your eyes remaining downcast on the now soggy bowl of cereal.

“You’re right, you didn’t.” You could feel his eyes on you, watching your face for any shift in reaction, no matter how miniscule. This is the most you’ve ever heard him speak in the two weeks you’ve known him. “But Jeongguk, he’s-he’s young. He’s sensitive.”

There was nothing to say, nothing you could say. You knew that all of this was coming from the good of heart, but it felt like you were getting blamed for something that was out of your control.

“I know you’re still slightly new at this,” you scoffed at that, tonguing the inside of your cheek in frustration. It sounded like he was placing the blame on you, like it was your fault Jeongguk lashed out and didn’t come back. It wasn’t though, and you weren’t going to let him, or anybody else, make it seem like it was. “But things are different for us. We don’t feel things the same way you do, we don’t understand things like you do.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” you mumbled, pushing away the bowl of cereal.

“Wolves mate for life, Y/N.” Yoongi spoke, his voice uncharacteristically soft as he looked at the upset look on your face. “And Jeongguk already fell for you.”

---------

Jeongguk didn’t come back for a week.

The wait for him was agonizingly long, not just for you but for the rest of the pack as well. By the fourth day you could see the nervousness apparent on the other’s faces, and then by the fifth you could hear the arguments in the other room and the tiny whispers at dinner. You couldn’t help but feel like this was your fault, the guilt constantly eating away at your stomach and making you feel sick.

You knew Jeongguk could easily take care of himself out there, but that didn’t stop you from worrying about him.

You managed to hear him before you saw him.

It was getting pretty late, the sun quickly setting into the horizon as you sat in the main room. Everybody else had already retired back into their rooms for the night, leaving you alone as you mindlessly drew in an old sketchbook Jeongguk had given you the first few nights you were here.

He obviously didn’t want to be heard, immediately backtracking as soon as his paw made a creak in the wood flooring of the porch.

“Jeongguk?” you whispered, setting your stuff down on the couch before slowly getting up. The lycan looked at you with an unreadable expression on his face, ears pinned on his head as he quickly retreated back in the forest.

Your bare feet scratched against the harsh forest floor as you followed after him, the clean clothes one of the boys left out each night in case he came back one night in your hands as you quickly caught up to him. He wasn’t running, he was hardly even jogging, instead walking at a leisurely pace ahead of you with his nose held high.

He stopped behind a tree to shift, the sounds making your nose curl in disgust as you dropped the clothes on the floor next to him before turning around to give him privacy. You could hear the sound of him pulling his pants up, facing him again once you heard him start to walk away.

“Where have you been, Jeongguk?” you questioned, your anger quickly rising as he made it a point to stay silent. Fresh scratches and bruises littered his sides and shoulders, the sight making you even more upset than before.

“What happened, Guk? Why are you all beat up?” your anger was quickly replaced with worry, tears welling in your eyes at the sight of him. His standoffish attitude was really starting to affect you, you hadn’t even had a chance to properly see his face as he kept his back turned towards you but you would bet it looked just as worse as the rest of him.

“Everybody was worried about you,” tears were falling down your cheeks openly now, the pent up emotions finally making an appearance. Your voice was shaky and low as you confessed, “I was worried about you.”

Jeongguk stopped suddenly at that, his fists clenching at his sides as he hung his head. You carefully made your way up to him, your cold palm against his hot skin making him jump slightly as you touched the center of his back. His face wasn’t as bad as you expected, a small cut on his cheek being the only thing you could see as you stepped in front of him.

“Did you feel anything between us?” He looked vulnerable as he asked you that question, nothing like the big bad Alpha that you first met all those months ago. The thought made you chuckle, your hand reaching up to softly stroke the cut on his face. “Anything at all?”

“Of course I did, Guk.” you smiled, your thumb tracing indistinguishable shapes on his cheek as you looked into his eyes.

“Then why won’t you stay with me?”

You sighed, closing your eyes for a brief moment before reopening them. He was young, younger than you at least, so you knew you couldn’t blame him for not understanding. “It’s not that simple, Jeongguk you know that.”

The lycan nodded, the once hopeful look in his eye dying as he attempted to take a step back away from your touch. You grabbed him before he could, both of your hands cupping his cheeks as you forced him to look at you.

“But we will find a way,” you smiled at him, your heart fluttering at the confused expression on his face. “I’m not going to leave you, Guk. Never.”

You intended to keep true to your statement, there had to be a way to figure this all out. No situation was purely black and white, and you’ll find the shades of gray in between no matter what.

The feeling of his lips was incredibly warm as he pushed them against yours, slightly chapped but otherwise still soft. The amount of emotion he put into kissing you wasn’t anything you felt before, the feeling of his tongue sweeping against the plumpness of your lower lip and the heat from his body sending butterflies in your stomach.

His hands fell down to your hips, pushing up your t-shirt to feel the softness of your stomach beneath his palms with battered breaths before pushing you back. You gasped at the feeling of the rough tree bark against you, his body pinning you further back as he continued exploring your mouth with his own.

You pulled back slightly, breathing heavily and your lips red and plump with saliva. Jeongguk smirked at the sight, his thumb coming up to pull down your bottom lip with the tip of his finger before moving his mouth to the sensitive skin of your neck. The elongated point of his incisors scrapped lightly against your pulse, making you shudder at the sensation.

This was everything Jeongguk dreamed of; the feeling of your soft skin beneath his claws and the innocent look in your eyes as you stared up at him. The things he’d do to you as you lied beneath him, baring your neck in submission to your Alpha as pumped you full of his seed in hopes of putting his pups in your belly. He shuddered at the thought.

The strands of his hair were silky beneath your fingertips, gasping and tugging at the roots as he bit down on a certain area of your neck that made your core clench. You didn’t know if he could smell your quickly rising arousal, but judging by the smirk you felt against your lips as he kissed his way back up your neck proved he did.

“Guk,” you whispered, whimpering at the feeling of his palm applying pressure lightly against your navel. “Are we-?”

Jeongguk opened his eyes, his hands stilling immediately as he moved his face in front of yours. “Do you want to?”

“I do.” You nodded, moving your hands from his hair to his bare back, mindful of the bruises and cuts already there. The lycan continued his ministrations, pulling your shirt above your head quickly before making his way down your clavicle. You were hyper aware of the fact you were outside, mindful of anything, or anyone, who may be watching or listening.

“So pretty,” Jeongguk murmured into your skin, biting and sucking marks into your breast. You whimpered at the feeling of his tongue on your nipple, sucking it into his mouth before pulling back and blowing cold air on it. His hands were on your waist, kneading roughly as he pushed his body further against yours. “You don’t understand how long I’ve wanted this.”

“Me too,” Your voice was breathy, your hands reached down to palm him slowly over his jeans as his whimpers of pleasure sent waves of arousal through your body. He pulled back from your grip, smirking at you as you attempted to reign him back in--your body cold and exposed to anybody who may be watching.

You furrowed your eyebrows as you watched him pick up his discarded hoodie, laying it out on the forest floor before walking back over to you. He led you back towards it slowly, his mouth back on yours as he licked into your mouth and his hand wrapped around your throat possessively.

The fabric was soft against your knees as he carefully pushed you down, the feeling of his warm hand splayed around your neck making you dizzy in pleasure.

“Guk,” you whispered, kissing one of the bruises that were blossoming on his side gently. He moved his hand from your neck to hair, tightening it in a fist as you unbuttoned his jeans, pushing down the denim to expose his cock to your hungry eyes.

Jeongguk was big, flushed red at the tip with veins running along the skin, hot and heavy in your hand as you gripped him. Your mouth watered slightly at the sight, pushing your thighs together before licking a long stripe from the base all the way to the head. His groans made your core clench, shifting desperately for friction.

Your lips wrapped around his cock, stretching around his girth as your tongue wrapped around the tip and dipped into the slit. The lycan moaned loudly, his fist tightening in your hair and tugging you down slowly.

“‘S this okay?” Jeongguk asked quietly, whimpering at the feeling of you humming an affirmative around him. You worked on getting him slick with spit, a steady rhythm starting to form the more you bobbed your head up and down.

Gagging slightly at the pressure at the back of your throat you went as far down as you could, tears bubbling in your eyes as you relished in the pleasured moans coming from his mouth. You could feel your core clenching around nothing, the wetness between your thighs making you shift uncomfortably at the emptiness.

Pulling off with a pop saliva dripped down your chin, your hands spreading the wetness on his shaft as you looked up at him with fucked out eyes. You felt his hand wrap lightly around your throat again, the pressure intoxicating as you pushed you to lie down on the ground.

Jeongguk’s mouth was back on yours as soon as your back touched the fabric, his forearms caged around your head. You moaned at the feeling of one of his hands coming down to rub your core over the thin material of your leggings, hips rising of their own accord to chase after the feeling.

“Mmm, you’re so wet, baby,” The lycan purred, biting down on your bottom lip with one of his incisors. It stung, you could taste the iron as blood seeped from the cut and into your mouth. Jeongguk growled at the sight, taking the chance to lick into your mouth and taste the blood on your tongue with his own.

The feeling was intoxicating, your head swimming with pleasure as you felt Jeongguk’s rough fingers dip beneath your clothes and stroke your bare core. You haven’t been this intimate with anybody in a long time, so you were extremely sensitive to all his advances.

“Fuck,” you whimpered, wincing at the slight burn as he inserted a fingered into you slowly. You haven’t had anything inside of you for so long, welcoming the pain that came with it.

“Gonna stretch you out nice and good,” Jeongguk whispered in your ear, biting on the soft flesh there. “Make sure you’re ready to take my fat cock, isn’t that right baby?”

You nodded at his words, grinding your hips onto his fingers as the tightening feeling in your lower stomach kept building. His words were affecting you more than you thought, your fluids dripping down his digits and soaking your leggings.

He hastily got rid of the offending garment, a slight tearing sound reaching your ears as you were left completely bare in front of his hungry eyes. You gasped when you were suddenly flipped over, cheek pressed up against the soft fabric of Jeongguk’s hoodie and your hips pulled high in a rather demeaning, submissive position.

The sudden feeling of the lycan’s rough tongue on your core made you whimper from pleasure, his rough hands spreading your lips and further exposing you. You flushed deeply in embarrassment at the feeling of your juices leaking down the inside of your thighs, though Jeongguk eagerly lapped them up with no sounds of protest.

With the pressure on your clit and the fullness of his fingers scissoring deep in your core you couldn’t help it, the budding tightness unravelling as you came onto his tongue. Your body shook lightly, trembling in his grip as you attempted to bite back your moans.

“Fuck, you’re so beautiful,” Jeongguk confessed, his mouth glistening with the aftermath of your orgasm. He gave you a little bit to recover before you felt his tip pushing against your entrance, the sensitivity from your previous release making you whimper and recoil slightly.

His body covered yours as he leaned over you, sandwiching you between the floor and him as he pushed slowly into you inch by inch. He felt so good inside you, hot and pulsing between your thighs with each forward stroke.

“I’m going to breed you so good, baby,” Jeongguk moaned, linking his fingers with your own as he finally bottomed out in you. “Make you take this knot and put a litter of pups deep in that little womb of yours. Wouldn’t you like that?”

You nodded, tears welling in your eyes as he pulled all the way out before slamming back in. It hurt, but the pain mingled with the pleasure deliciously--taking everything he was giving you with a stream of satisfied moans. The only thing that managed to distract you from the pleasant fullness of your core was the mention of the word ‘knot’. You didn’t understand what he meant by that, but you also didn’t attempt to evaluate his words as your body jerked forward at the next thrust.

Your juices were leaking all over Jeongguk’s sweatshirt, staining the fabric and making you flush at the scene when you lowered your head to peer in between your legs. The sight of your lower stomach bulging with the lycan’s cock only made you more wet, your moans and whimpers echoing in the quickly darkening forest.

Jeongguk took notice of your fascination, moving one of his hands from your hips to palm gently below your navel. It felt better than you thought it would, your knees trembling and threatening to give out from beneath you from the pleasure. He leaned back on his knees from his previous position over you, his other palm warm against your skin as he pushed between your shoulder blades.

“Harder,” you cried, shutting your eyes at the feeling of another orgasm quickly building. Jeongguk complied, his fingers pushing hard against your clit and relishing in the feeling of your walls squeezing him tightly.

He was a complete mess, almost as much as you were, your cum sticky on his thighs and sweat plastering his hair to his forehead. The thin strings of your juices connecting you two together made a gross wet noise each time he pulled out, the sounds it made as he pushed back in making him growl in enjoyment.

Your orgasm hit you like a truck, your vision going black as you shut your eyes at the overwhelming feeling. The oversensitivity made you wince as Jeongguk kept fucking you, slightly pulling away from him before he roughly pulled you back.

“Almost there, baby,” He whispered, kissing your neck reassuringly. He was almost there, he could feel his stomach tightening with his impending release. “Take it, Y/N. I know you can.”

Nodding, you continued to moan at the slightly painful feeling. It felt good, so good, tears falling onto your flushed, sweaty cheeks as your body jerked forward with each rub against your walls.

Something felt wrong, the pressure between your legs was growing and getting tighter with each thrust Jeongguk made inside of you. Paired with the oversensitivity from your two previous orgasms, it hurt to feel stretched out so much.

“G-guk wait,” you whimpered, clenching your fists around the fabric beneath you as you shut your eyes shut at the pain. “Hurts-”

“It’s okay, It’s okay,” Jeongguk shushed, brushing your sweaty hair back from your face as he pushed you further to the ground. “You can take my knot, right baby?”

You sighed at the mention of his knot, wondering if this is what he meant by it-- the growing and painful pressure stretching your core to it’s max with no signs of stopping. You trusted Jeongguk, though, and knew he wouldn’t do anything deliberate to hurt you. “I can, yea. I can.”

The feeling of his cum emptying inside you made you moan, warm against your walls and temporarily distracting you from the pain of his inflating knot. With one last hard thrust you two were locked together, Jeongguk moaning loudly from behind you as he buried his face in the crook of your neck. The scraping of his elongated teeth against your skin made you shiver as he continued to release inside you.

He slowly rolled the two of you onto your sides once he was finished, gripping the inside of your thigh and holding it up slightly to prevent the two of you from experiencing any unnecessary pain. Looking down at your battered and abused core, you saw Jeongguk’s excess cum leaking from the sides of his knot; wet and sticky on the sides of your thighs. The visual made you flush deeply.

You were beyond tired, slumping tiredly against the boy as you felt his warm tongue licking your skin. The feeling made you chuckle. “What are you doing?”

“Grooming you,” Jeongguk mumbled nonchalantly, continuing without hesitation. He swept over your abundance of bite marks and hickeys with the wet muscle, pausing to leave little kisses on each one of them. His palm was heavy as he cupped your stomach protectively.

“Can I bite you?”

“Can you what?”

You looked over your shoulder at the boy, taking in his fucked out expression and incredibly flushed cheeks as he stared at you with his intimidating red eyes. He didn’t seem affected by your surprise.

“Bite you, mark you as mine.” His voice suddenly got quiet, lowering to look at the juncture of your neck and shoulder as he stroked the skin there softly. “Make you my mate.”

Thinking back to Yoongi’s words, you knew the implications that came with what he said. You also knew that by agreeing to be Jeongguk’s mate, you would have little to no chance of going back to the life you once had. But everything Jeongguk gave you, everything he made you feel wasn’t something you wanted to give up.

“Okay,” You whispered, closing your eyes before reopening them and giving the boy a small smile. The look on his face was indescribable, your heart beating just a little bit faster as you both looked at each other in happiness. “Okay.”

His lips were on yours in a second, pushing hard against your own with a smile on his face. You kissed back with the same enthusiasm, his tongue licking the inside of your mouth quickly before he pulled back.

“It’s going to hurt a bit,” Jeongguk murmured against your lips, gently pushing your face back against the fabric so he could reach your shoulder easily. He kissed the skin of your neck lightly, your pulse hot against his mouth as he gripped your hand, running his thumb along the raised scar there. “Don’t be scared.”

You didn’t have much time to prepare before there was an immense pain spreading throughout your entire body, your screams of pain disturbing the quiet forest around you. It burned so much, the feeling indescribable as the feeling continued to spread throughout your entire body. His teeth weren’t in there for long, pulling back out after a couple of seconds as you felt blood drip down your back.

“Hey,” Jeongguk whispered, cupping your cheek in his hand as he pulled your face up to his. You could see the blood staining his face and teeth, dripping down his neck and chin as he consoled you through the pain. “You’re okay, I promise.”

Looking at him through the tears you smiled, kissing the worried look off his face as the burning pain finally started to diminish. The taste of iron was heavy on your tongue.

----------

Both of you did, in fact, manage to find a way.

About a week after you and Jeongguk’s endeavor in the woods, he had managed to convince you to move everything from your grandfather’s cabin into your room while you moved in with him in his. It took a lot of consideration, and negotiation from Jeongguk’s side, but you were happy.

That being said, you still visited the cabin every now and then to make sure everything was okay.

Walking back into the pack house afterwards was awkward, you couldn’t look anybody in the eye as you walked past them, attempting to hide all the marks on your neck with your shirt while Jeongguk grinned ear to ear like a damn fool.

It wouldn’t have mattered anyways, the smell of blood and sex tainted the air as soon as you stepped foot in the house much to yours and Seokjins adamant dismay. He yelled at both of you after you showed up, going off on how you could have at least washed off in the lake to at least attempt to hide what you two were up to, and to Jeongguk for running away like a hormonal, upset teenager.

You were told that once Jeongguk bit you, you didn’t have your own unique scent anymore. Instead, you were permanently masked by Jeongguk’s smell to remind everybody who you belonged to. The fact made you blush when he told you, the thought oddly comforting and making your belly tighten.

As you were packing everything into boxes to transport them back to the pack house, you had given Namjoon the picture that used to be above your fireplace mantle, now knowing who the once mysterious wolves next to him were. He thanked you immensely.

Overall, everybody was happy. You were happy. This was a new beginning in your life, and you wouldn’t change anything that happened for the world.

#jungkook fanfic #jungkook scenarios #jungkook fanfiction #jungkook imagine #jungkook oneshot #werewolf jungkook #bts fanfic #bts fanfiction #bts scenarios #bts one shot #bts imagines #jungkook smut #bts smut #jungkook fluff #jungkook angst #jungkook x reader #i'm so glad to finally release this

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queensoybean0724 · 3 years

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Succession Chapter 13 (Karl Heisenberg/female reader) Resident Evil Village fanfic

Title: Succession Chapter 13

Characters: Karl Heisenberg, female reader, the Duke

Rating: NC-17 for sex and language (shower sex, P in V, unprotected sex *wrap it up, kids*, creampie)

Summary: you discover a long lost relative has died and made you his sole beneficiary. While flying to collect your inheritance, you crash in a village in Romania.

Author’s Note: I do not own the characters from Resident Evil Village. This is a work of fiction. Anything remotely similar to anyone living or dead is purely coincidental.

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter 13

The hot water cascaded down your body. Steam fogged up the windowed walls of the shower stall. Your eyes were closed and you melted back against Heisenberg’s body as he washed your hair and massaged your scalp. His fingers felt amazing, kneading and relieving the tension.

He turned you around to face him, cupped your face in his hands, and tilted your head back. As the water rinsed the suds from your hair, his lips closed over yours, kissing you deeply. You kept your head under the rush of water as your arms wrapped around his waist, holding his naked body close to yours. Heisenberg moaned into your mouth and you wanted to devour him. After hours of fucking, you thought you would have gotten at least a bit of your pent-up arousal out of your system, but you craved him more and more.

Heisenberg kissed down your jaw and neck. You shivered against him at the feel of his tongue starting at your chest and slowly licking up your neck and back to your mouth. “Mmmmm fuck...I want to lick every drop of water from your body, Y/N,” Heisenberg murmured against your lips before kissing you.

You needed him again...you were always going to need this man.

“Fuck me, Karl…” you whispered, turning around in his arms, leaning forward, and placing your hands on the windowed wall.

Heisenberg growled as his hands pulled you by your hips. You felt him against your ass, his slow thrusts sliding his cock between your thighs. “How the fuck are you doing this to me?” he whispered against your ear, his left hand moving up the front of your body, softly grasping your neck, “I’ve fucked you over and over again...and I can’t get enough. I want you even more now that I’ve fucked you…”

“I still want you, too,” you said, one hand sliding down the window, making a handprint in the steam, “please, Karl...I’m aching…” With a gruff curse, he reached down between your legs, angled his cock, and pushed inside of you.

The both of you moaned loudly, the noises echoing in the shower stall. Heisenberg’s fingers tightened on your neck as his hips moved against you. The wet slap of skin against skin joined the echoes.

Heisenberg’s lips kissed and licked along your ear as he grunted and growled. Goosebumps rose on your skin as the feel of his cock caressed back and forth along your G-spot. The soothing pleasure of the hot water relaxed you as he pushed deeper inside of you. He stretched you open and the feeling was exquisite. You never wanted to be without his hands on you and his body pressed to yours.

His left hand stayed at your neck, holding you against him as his right hand moved around to your clit, trapping it under his index and middle fingers.

“Karl…” you moaned loudly, pushing back into his increasing thrusts. Heisenberg fucked you like a madman, so desperate to cum inside of you and to feel you cum around his cock.

“Oh my god...Y/N...cum...I want you to cum…” he ordered, holding you tight between his body and his hand. You wriggled and moved helplessly, chasing the orgasm that he wanted to give to you.

You rested your head against his shoulder and cried out as you toppled over the edge. Your orgasm was intense and fierce, quickly giving way to overpowering as your clit became hypersensitive. Heisenberg’s teeth sunk into the soft, wet skin of your shoulder as he emptied himself inside of you. The muffled moans seemed to slip into your skin and nestle deep into your soul. His arms wrapped tight around you, holding you close, unable to let you go.

“You’re so beautiful when you cum…” Heisenberg murmured.

Once the two of you caught your breath, you continued your shower. He shampooed his hair as you took a washcloth and soap and washed his body. You took your time, washing every inch of his body, ogling his taut limbs and strong frame. He chuckled as he caught you gazing at him and squeezing his flesh.

“Struck by a vision?” he asked, an amused smile on his face.

“I’m just admiring the view,” you quipped, reaching around to lightly pinch his ass. He laughed heartily as he washed the suds from his hair.

Then it was his turn to wash you. His hands worked the soap into a lather as he cleaned your body, taking his time to grope you and massage your achy muscles. Having sex consistently for hours was bound to make anyone sore. He moved behind you and reached around to wash your breasts, thoroughly massaging them and pinching your nipples. Arousal pulsed in your cunt, but you had to focus. The Duke would be outside the factory shortly and you thought it rude to keep him waiting.

Heisenberg shut off the shower and opened the stall door, grabbing two towels. He stepped out of the shower and dried himself off as you took the other towel. Wrapping it around his waist, he went to the kitchen area, letting you dry yourself off. You watched him as he made coffee on the stove and cooked a small breakfast.

It was unusual watching this domesticated moment between you and Heisenberg. In such a short amount of time, the two of you had fallen into this routine...this habit. You found that you were getting more and more comfortable around him. He did not arouse feelings of fear, dread, and unease anymore. It was hard to imagine that just a few days ago, you were fearful of him despite the evident attraction you two felt for one another. But after the truth came out...and of course the fucking...you felt drawn to him, emotionally as well as physically.

You towel dried your hair and wrapped it around your body as you sifted through your clothing for something warm to wear.

“I still need to wash my dirty clothes,” you reminded Heisenberg, “before long, I won’t have any clean clothes left.”

Heisenberg chuckled as he cooked bacon and fried eggs on the stove. “If I had my way, pussycat, you would walk around naked all the time…”

You rolled your eyes as he turned his head to you and gave you a naughty wink. “Dirty old man…” you quipped, a smile toying with your lips. He laughed and turned back to the food. You took in his strong back and the towel covering his nakedness from the waist down. A sudden image of going up behind him and ripping his towel off played in your mind, but once again you had to remind yourself that the Duke was going to be there soon.

You rifled through one of the extra suitcases Heisenberg brought you from the crash and found an oversized long sleeved shirt. The fabric felt warm and cozy. You put on your bra and panties before pulling the shirt over your head. Your favorite pair of jeans completed the look.

Heisenberg placed your plate on the table and you sat and ate quietly as he got dressed. As tempting as it was to want to turn and watch him take off his towel, you knew that it would only add to your arousal. Now wasn’t the time.

“Are you going to eat?” you asked as he walked up to the table dressed in his pants and buttoned up shirt.

“No, I only drink coffee in the morning,” he said, reaching for the three items he always wore hanging around his neck.

“What are those things?” you asked, pointing your fork at them. Heisenberg took them one by one and showed them to you.

“This is a compass,” he answered, placing it over his head, “this one is a scale of sorts that helps measure metals and steel…” The last one he held in his hand, his thumb rubbing back and forth over it. “And this one is a dogtag from the German army. It belonged to my uncle. When I was a child, my uncle went AWOL during World War I and escaped here to be with my family. He died of consumption...what we know now as tuberculosis...four years later. One day as I was wandering around the village, I came across his old house...hadn’t been lived in since my family died. I found this as I was rummaging through his things. I decided to keep it…”

You hung on to his every word. His eyes looked so sad, mourning the family he had been taken from. Your heart ached for him. You cursed Mother Miranda for taking him from his flesh and blood. Heisenberg acted tough and at times had an air of self-centeredness and a large ego, but he was fragile deep inside. You wondered if he had ever told anyone else this story.

“You done?” he asked once he snapped out of his reverie. You took the last strip of bacon and ate it quickly before going to get your socks and sneakers. Heisenberg put the dogtag around his neck, put his hat on his head, and reached for his trenchcoat. You tied your shoes as he slid his sunglasses on his face.

You followed him down the hall and down a flight of stairs to the sliding double doors. He pushed one open and the two of you walked outside.

It was cold and cloudy, but the storm had passed. Fresh snow coated the ground. The sporadic pieces of metal, old factory parts, and an old beat-up car jutted up from the earth with a small amount of snow covering them. You looked down the pathway and saw the Duke sitting in the back of his cart in the exact same place where you had first met him.

The Duke smiled as you and Heisenberg approached his carriage, him puffing on his cigar. “It is good to see you again, Y/N,” he greeted.

“It’s good to see you as well, Duke,” you said. Heisenberg immediately started rifling through the supplies the Duke had lying around his cart. He wasn’t one for small talk.

You looked around the carriage for the horse. “I love your horse, Duke. What’s its name?”

“Her name is Raven,” the Duke answered, “I think she’s taken quite a liking to you since she saw you last. Call it my expert intuition, but her demeanor changed for the better after she spent some time with you…”

You chuckled softly as you started to walk towards the front, but stopped. “Karl,” you said, turning to him, “I’m going to pet the horse, not run off. Just want you to know so you don’t have a heart attack…”

Heisenberg mumbled as he sifted through the wares. “Yeah, yeah, keep it up, dollface…” he muttered, not acting in the least bit troubled by your witty repartee. You laughed and walked to Raven, slowly placing your hand on her hip.

“Hey, Raven,” you whispered soothingly, “it’s Y/N. I missed you…”

The horse turned her head in your direction and let out a huff through her nostrils. You ran your hand along her body and up her neck. Raven slowly placed her nose on your shoulder and nuzzled your face, to which you giggled. You spent a good amount of time giving her lots of rubs and pets. You didn’t think of yourself as a horse whisperer, but it was as if you could feel Raven’s admiration of you and it made your heart swell.

“I’ll see you again, I hope,” you said, giving her another pet before walking back to Heisenberg and the Duke.

Your gaze fell on a small array of crystals that hung from necklaces and bracelets. The crystals were different sizes, shapes, and colors. Some were jagged and rough while others were smooth to the touch. A small bracelet sat off to the side with a reddish crystal the size of a grape. You picked it up and admired it.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” the Duke said, turning his attention towards you.

“It is,” you marveled, “what kind of crystal is it?”

“Well...that looks to be a carnelian,” he answered, “carnelians bring joy and friendship...and family togetherness. It is a stone of happiness, it represents bringing things and people together…”

You smiled as you studied the bracelet. Friendship. Family. You knew exactly who you wanted to have this.

“How much?” you asked. Heisenberg had been loading his purchases into his sack and stopped to look at you. “I don’t have much and all I have is in American currency, but I can run back to get my wallet…”

“It’s on the house, my sweet,” the Duke said, smiling down at you.

“Oh no, please, let me give you something…” you spoke, but the Duke held his hand up as if the matter was closed.

“Please, Y/N, your money's no good here…” he said. You gave him a smile and thanked him, putting the bracelet in your pocket.

“I’ll need more cigars in a couple weeks,” Heisenberg spoke up, slinging the sack over his shoulder.

“Of course! And I’ll inquire about those tools, cogs, and copper wire that you need. I saw some items a few towns over...I should have them in a few weeks,” the Duke said.

“Good. Thank you,” Heisenberg said, turning and walking back to the factory.

“It was good seeing you again, Duke,” you said, waving goodbye as you jogged to Heisenberg.

“And you as well, darling,” he returned, moving his hand as if he were tipping an imaginary cap to you. You caught up with Heisenberg and looped your arm under his, placing your hand on his bicep. He looked down at your hand on him, then up at your face. You had your gaze forward on a mist of clouds hovering above the mountains, not seeing the soft smile that played on Heisenberg’s mouth as he continued walking up the pathway towards the factory.

The Duke smiled as he watched the endearing moment.

#resident evil village #resident evil village fanfic #karl heisenberg #karl heisenberg x reader #karl heisenburg x reader #karl heisenberg fanfic #daddy heisenberg #house heisenberg #succession fanfic #succession heisenberg fanfic

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amelia-yap · 3 years

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How did Ruby meet dragon Weiss? Was it similar to their meeting at Beacon?

i dunno. heres a thing.

I have always loved to explore, to have adventures -- simple as that. Wandering into the unknown, discovering new sights, walking on land that millions might already have, it was all exciting to me.

Whenever I got the chance to camp, I would immediately pack all the essentials I needed with vigor, no matter the weather. Staying still in one place for too long just didn’t sit well for me.

A gust of wind blew in my direction. The cold air stung my cheeks, so I pulled the red scarf I was wearing closer to my face, When I looked around, a blanket of snow was covering the ground and trees of all sizes. Everything seemed to be quiet. The only sound I could hear was my boots creaking in the snow.

The forest I was camping in appeared to be devoid of any wildlife, no foxes, no wolves nor bears I was used to seeing. I paid no mind and continued to explore and search for a suitable place to spend the night in. Which, not too long after, I spotted a cave within a good distance.

Happy I had shelter taken care of, I made my way towards the cave. The first thing that registered in my brain is that how the cave strongly it smelled of fresh pinecones. Crystals jutted out in random from every inch of the land, the ground coated with a thin layer of ice.

The cave itself wasn’t very large, but it seemed oddly well-preserved and clean, as if there was actually someone living in here-

“What do you think you’re doing?!” a voice cried out

A dragon.

Icy blue eyes narrowed at me, wings flared up in defiance.

A real, live dragon.

About 25 ft tall, standing right in front of me,

I blinked, unsure if I was hallucinating. It was not unheard of that dragon sightings could be found time to time, but to witness one with my very own eyes was wholly another question.

If winter could be personified, or in this case, dragonified? It would look like this. Brilliant pure white scales cascaded throughout its entire body like freshly fallen snow, horns in a shade of what painted the deep dark chilly nights, bright blue gemstones sprouted out of its back with the exception of a handful of rubies on its tail, illuminating a warm glow.

The most captivating sight however, was the scar streaking down its left eye.

The dragon in question scowled at my lack of response, “Leave. You’re not welcomed here.” Irritated, it started to walk away.

The soft thumping of the ground broke me out of my daze and I quickly burst into a jog in hopes of keeping up with the white dragon. Why were dragons so large? It wasn’t fair, humans were so tiny.

“So, um. My name is Ruby!” I yelled, in case it didn’t hear me or something, attempting to bring up conversation.

The dragon harrumphed, tail swishing like a disgruntled cat being forced to take a bath, clearly uninterested in what I had to say.

Besides being pretty, it had a big personality too.

___________________________________________________________

My right hand reached up to rub my neck, feet shuffling uneasily on the ground as I stood outside the cave. I couldn’t stop thinking about the dragon I met, albeit having made a less-than-stellar first impression breaking into her home.

In my defense, I didn't know there would be a dragon in there.

Against my better judgment, I returned after (an embarrassing) two hours, hoping I’d see White, preferably in a good mood now. There was something the dragon that interested me.

A cough caught my attention, and silver orbs met icy blue once again.

And like the first time, I was left speechless. She. She was now in her human form, a navy blue cloak draped over her shoulders with a dress and belt clipped on underneath.

“Are you going to come in, or die of hypothermia standing here?” the woman hissed, crossing her arms, “If you hadn’t noticed, the weather isn’t getting any better. I would rather not have a dead body in front of my doorstep.”

“Look,” the dragon lady finally grumbled, impatience bleeding out every corner of her voice,“I don’t understand why you’re back. Maybe you’re incapable of listening to instructions or just plain stupid, I don’t know.”

If looks could kill, the glare she’s sending to me right now is liable to destroy galaxies.

I tugged the hem of my sweater, smiling awkwardly like it would salvage the situation, “What’s your name?”

“I…” she hesitated, “I’m Weiss.”

“Awesome! You and I are going to be besties from now on, Weiss!”

“Y- What? No.” she deadpanned.

“I broke into your home.” I countered, grinning all the while, ” We’re practically like, best friends now.”

“Dunce, what kind of logic is that??”

My grin grew larger, “I dunno, it sounds like a legitimate reason to me.”

She scrunched up her nose, not willing to partake in my nonsense any longer, and flicked my forehead.

“Owie!” I yelped, hands shooting up to nurse the bruise,”Why’d you do that?!”

Weiss rolled her eyes, “Don’t be dramatic, Ruby. Now get in before you freeze out here for real.”

I immediately perked up at the mention of my name,”Aw, Weiss! You remembered my name!”

“I actually have a good memory. Unlike you, you dunce.”

Despite the barbs she dressed around her words, I caught her eyes twinkling with amusement.

And that was good enough.

#ruby rose #weiss schnee #whiterose #white rose #rwby #look i wrote this in one day so idk what im doing #this was actually for a story-based essay i had to write lmao #i don t know how to write fics even tho ive read a bunch of em hhhhhh #theres probably a bunch of grammar mistakes/weird sentence construction/weird pacing and flow/characters being ooc/weird wording of words #and other stuff #but bear with me lol #first person pov bc it's easier to translate #and yeah their meeting would probably be kaboom and stuff bc of dust but that be so weird if i submit that as hw lol #still can't decide if the crystals on weiss should be gems or dust #shrug #this is disastrous #writing is so hard jkhdgkjhgkdhgk #im thinking of picking up on writing again who knows #sorry if you read all that cringe but hope you enjoyed..?#if ye see anything weird feel free to correct me!#my brain and line of thoughts are scattered in pieces rn #to summarize all this bs:#ruby being the useless gay this time #the more i reread this the weirder this gets imma just pretend this post doesn't exist #also #weiss:#theres a weird pretty girl coming into my territory i want her out #oh is she lost or???ok fine get back in

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bakingandbooks3 · 3 years

Text

A Court of Song and Serpents

A bit short but the begging of a project I'm SO excited for- hope you love this as much as I do.

Summary: What a time to be alive as Nesta Archeron, going backward to move forward and finding that the places she once called home are now empty tombs.

Nesta

Nesta held her breath for a moment, a pause, and stilled entirely. The Court of Nightmares. She knew the verdict would be severe, but never would she have expected exile to a world of terror. The horrors of that place, of how it was once the main residence of the High Lord- till Rhysand.

Rhysand, the man who boasted of lands bountiful with choice and reason, now sat across from her donning unmasked hatred. A look he kept shielded from his mate, reserved just for Nesta. The kind that rips one apart from the inside out, would carve out the belly of a beast, burn a witch on a wooden pyre.

Nesta felt nothing, she always did. It wasn’t hard to see what he was thinking of her, how his beautiful wife’s wretched sister was little more than a gambling thief who slept her way through his glorious city. Now, fingers smeared that blank canvas so pure of her darkest shades.

Eyes flicking back, she studied that same sister. The Cursebreaker, the Savior.

How small and insignificant she became next to the glimmering shining thing Feyre was. The lands spoke of her beauty and kind touch, and how she sacrificed everything to save a world of people, and Fae that she was raised to despise.

Nesta wished it’d be known that her touch wasn’t always kind.

She built her bricks firm enough that her house of grace never shattered; Held firm, it was all she had left in her. Too many eyes on her filled with grief, excitement, retribution-Nesta was keenly aware of how this Court of Dreams felt of her.

“This is an exile.”

Rhysand's smirk peaked so slightly, his mate tensing.

“No, no. This is an intervention, a chance for you to find yourself away from bad influences and habits. You can’t keep living like this, and I refuse to let it continue happening and I take the fall for it. Your decisions are impractical and immoral. You are sober much less than you are drunk and-”

“If you’re going to condemn me, do it. But don’t sit here and act as if this is out of kindness.” Nesta snarled. She hated the barbed words, but it’s what she felt. “Who are you to question my morality?”

“I think I can speak for my wife when I say that your presence here is….” Rhysand growled but pulled back, like he forgot Feyre was right there, too.

Nesta wished he would’ve let go, so maybe that facade Rhys reserved for Feyre was broken. No, that’s cruel. As much as she hated this and him, he was making her sister happy.

Something Nesta could never do.

“I do not give a shit what my presence is doing. The decision has already been made, so stop scolding me like a child and make good on your word, Rhysand.” Bile rose in her throat, the words feeling nothing but slimy and disgusting. Foreign, yet habitual all the same. Sometimes, she forgets there once was a woman called Nesta who was so much more than the viper living in her now.

Sometimes she remembers that she can’t ever be her again.

Home was nowhere for her, not in a person, not in a place, certainly not in this bombastic group of “heroes”. Nesta didn’t need a hero, she just needed someone to care. But Nesta knew better, no one would. She was taught to be unlovable, just a woman to be sold off and married- to climb her mothers' ever-growing social ladder.

But Nesta on her own was never enough, even with her mother six feet under and rotted away there were unsung expectations unmet. She was a catastrophic failure and a dark smear on a family name that never truly held weight to her.

Nesta looked up, felt everything all at once again, could only see one man pacing a worn-through tether between them. He wasn’t going to stop this, but she could see it, how it looked like he wanted to jump out of his own flesh, the veins of his arm prominent and knuckles normally so brown a new fresh fallen snow.

There was no prince to save Nesta, much less any will to save herself. So when Mor took the pleasure of bringing her to a living Hell, Nesta did not fight.

She was tired of fighting, after all, she fought an inescapable fate for the first twenty years of her life…

Flowers always made Nesta sneeze, but Elain lit like lights during winter whenever she could thread them through her hair. They all symbolized something, Laine would say. There are ones for good days, and hard storms, for sunshine and stars.

Nesta was always adorned in flowers that paralleled the estate. Astute, cold, tired, where she was warm, comforting, and smelled like cookies- ones that Celia normally baked for the sisters. She never asked Laine why she picked the ones for her that she did, her reasons would stay silent for now.

Spring was a high time of activity in the Archeron estate. There was always a flurry of activity, from preparing their mothers' obscene balls, to guests at every corner in every room. The halls were sprinkled in candles and on walls hung frames nearly kissing it was packed so tight.

They were in the gardens. It was an Elain day, as the girls would call it, and no matter how boring or mundane her wishes were they’d be fulfilled. Nesta was propped on the floor in front of Laine, who was bunching handfuls to weave in tangled auburn coils that gathered on Nesta’s head- as a bird's nest would.

Eventually, Nesta would have to learn braids or risk knotting the curls entirely.

The eldest basked in the silence she created from mentally muting her middle sister, and spared a glance at Feyre. What she saw was not surprising, but required far more willpower than she expected to not burst into laughter and risk the flowery rat's nest on her scalp.

Feyre appeared to be so bored out of her mind she was eating discarded flowers of Elains. Actually, ingesting them, as if she was a critique. When Elain wasn’t looking at Feyre, she’d grab another couple and study them- analyzing her next experiment. Glaring at the blues and yellows as if she was speaking to them, “Which one of you will make me puke the fastest so I can run away?”

In time, Feyre looked up from her taste tests to see Nesta grinning at her so violently you’d think Feyre hung the moon.

And Feyre beamed back, crossing a pinkie across her chest and pointing it back to Nesta. Then she viciously spit out the grass she’d just finished chewing, crying directly at Laine, “This MUST stop at once, my stomach hurts far too much to continue on here.”

Elain, in a garden so quiet, simply ignored her sister's poor attempts at escape. Making Nesta work even harder to stifle the shaking of her shoulders, covering her mouth and nose before she started wheezing. Elain would hardly hurt a fly but sent Nesta a glare that could’ve easily killed a man.

Nesta cleared her throat, “I do believe there are more of the blue flowers down that hill near the pond. Would you mind getting some more for Laine?”

Feyre was already on her feet, mouthing her thanks as Elain turned her back to get the next bunch of flowers, “Why of course I will!” And with a very bad curtsey, Feyre threw off her shoes and was rolling down the hill, spinning wildly, her laughter sure to be heard in meadows far beyond theirs.

You would find the Archeron sisters all together, or never in the same place.

Laine was the easiest to find, by the waters or pond on the east side, in gardens surrounded with bugs and willows calling to the young girl. She could hardly read but if the text included any mention of colors and blooms, suddenly she was a scholar. Elain was not simple or dull, but rather a passive spirit, like a summer wind- brief, fleeting, but teeming with love and hope.

Feyre, as their mother said, was a reckless wild child. Far too young to care, far too small to be whipped into shape. If you were sent to find her and your life depended on it, may the Mother bless you. Feyre liked the kitchen, because of the immaculate food and maids who would shove any sweet down the littlest Archerons throat. But, also for the immeasurable amount of sharp items to be found in there. If it was pointy and could stab a wall or scare their ice-cold mother, Feyre would be running the halls with it in hand or making targets of her fathers old trade route maps.

Then there was Nesta, the firstborn. Molded to be another woman that she somehow couldn’t fit, as if her feet were too big or hair too long, Nesta was outgrowing the standards forged into her being. You would see her as a ghost, floating in and out of rooms, comfortable in silence and slumber, but never escaping people. She loved the maids and could recite all of their names like clockwork, and the workers loved her in turn. Always stuck in new worlds between pages or willingly dragged by the two youngers, Nesta teemed with liberation. She was often alone, but never lonely, and found new loves in the library or in the fields beyond marble confines.

Adela was constantly dissatisfied with her eldest's progress inside these walls, as if at eight she should’ve already been engaged to a prince. Granted, Adela knew better. Nesta would never truly find another kingdom to buy into when she already had a crown waiting for her elsewhere. She was known as fair and beautiful beyond her years, would age like fine wine, and become so much greater than Adela ever was. What Nesta saw as fit would normally come to be, an instinct Adela was unprepared she would inherit. Nothing left her more confused than this daughter only by blood, who was hated by both her parents for reasons far from the same, and how at less than ten years had an entire mansion wrapped around her fingers.

But Adela would wait, and simply leave them be for now. When viper's strike, they kill. And even though the Matron of the house wanted her little queen gone, she had other ways to see this through.

Anyways, children's blood on her hands would stain her diamonds.

---

Cassian

Cassian was violently fucking ill. Watching whatever the fuck that was did not help in the slightest. The second she was gone, so was he.

The General and High Lord were not on speaking terms, his presence was an obligation and not a request. When Rhys first displayed his plans, Cassian just about murdered him. Had his brother on the table in a chokehold that the Shadowsinger had to come and release Rhys from. The way his so-called family planned her exile was… horrific.

Cassian was full of light and humor, but not dull the way his family made him out to be. He could see this for what it was, punishing an already broken female for not meeting every damn need of a fully grown woman that was no longer her responsibility. Cass knew better than to downplay the sacrifices Feyre made, but he was also well aware that Nesta's habits were hardly a financial problem and more of a reputation scandal.

That’s what the High Lord did best, when his Court was breaking at the bonds, the mess would “disappear”. Just like the Illyrians hidden in the mountains, the displaced families of Spring, the homeless warriors of Night.

Cassian loved his brother, but more often than not he wondered when Fate would come to bite them in the asses for Rhys’ neglect.

Now, here he was, in his mothers' cabin, wings dragging behind him wiping tears long since shed over a woman who was thrown to the wolves and torn into so many scraps he wasn’t sure how he could put her together again.

He missed his Nesta, the one who threw glares and begged for her people, not this one who hardly spoke and caved into herself enough that she couldn’t see where she was heading.

Cassian fingered for his mug in the wooden cabinets and hit his mark, soon placing water to heat over a small fire over the counter.

He was not okay, not okay at all.

When you look for something in the dark for too long, you eventually find what you need but not always in the way you expect. Cassian coped the same as Nesta Archeron in his first years post-war. It was suffocating trying to be the happy one while dying inside. He watched men he looked up to fall and a lover he admired take her last breath- too much in far too little time. Cassian was not an idiot, he was simply perplexed. Why was he allowed to grieve in unacceptable manners, but Nesta was a sinner in holy clothing?

Bright walls and unlit rooms in the house were silent, only the winds of the mountains singing outside. The newly dusted snow wrapped the dirt in a delicate kiss- a forbidden touch. It was the peak of winter, just after Feyre’s birthday and another insufferable party.

One that Nesta wasn’t invited to.

Cassian wished he wasn’t invited either.

The cup in his hands was dwarfed in comparison to the bulky Illyrian holding it, but at least it was warm. At least it wasn’t empty.

Because if there was one thing he knew, it could always be worse.

Cassian knew that if things were a little different, he’d be the one sitting in a prison of darkness and Hell because of mistakes made as a child. He’d be exiled by family, cast away by the only living remains of a life once lived.

Nesta didn’t know but long before this he had called it even, their sins atoned for in hurting each other equally.

She was the only one in the world who could tell which smiles he was faking.

To anyone on the outside, one kiss was merely that. How curious it was, the iceberg went far deeper.

So when the mug crashed against the wall, and in its wake resembled his inner turmoil, Cassian took to the skies and found himself at the door of a place far too familiar.

AHHHHHHHH OMG OKAY hope you guys enjoyed this:) if you want to be added to the tag list let me know!

@lovemeforever12345 @champanheandluxxury @nahthanks@perseusannabeth@queenestarcheron@silvernesta

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retvenkos · 3 years

Text

newfound love | t.l.

Little Women - Laurie Laurence x Reader, slight angst, fluff

tw: mentions of a dead mother

word count: 1.9k

A/N: i’m apparently incapable of writing fluff without first mentioning crushing loss, so that’s fun.

prompt: we’re going out in the cold for a walk, and I know you don’t want to get wet, but I’m trying to convince you to make a snow angel with me

The first thing (Y/n) knew was the cold. From the moment they had been born, they knew the icy touch of frigid air and the bite of snow. Winter babies were often babies who didn’t survive, but it had been their mother that didn’t last the night. Their family had mourning during the most dangerous of seasons, snow falling on their cheeks and melting at their hot tears.

Ever since, (Y/n) knew that winters often brought more problems than they were worth - from the cold, to the lack food, to the bouts of sickness that always seemed to follow, and the tight grasp of melancholy that held their heart hostage. Times were hard enough without the troubles of a changing season, and to have winter come early was simply cruel.

Already the winds had changed, and sometimes, when (Y/n) looked around at the people who surrounded them, they thought they could tell who was already blown away.

Laurie had always been rather good at convincing them that it was just worry, but the feeling never left, just gnawed a little less.

Now, with the war being what it was, there was more at risk, and more that ate at (Y/n), devouring the very root of their being. It hadn’t taken long for Laurie to notice the strength of (Y/n)’s grief, that year, and he had grown intent on trying to show (Y/n) the beauty of winter, even with it’s hardship and death.

“You can’t just have one,” he had said, sounding much older than he usually did. “Everything is good and bad.”

“Are we?”

And Laurie had laughed unabashedly, as though the thought had never crossed his mind. (Y/n) hadn’t admitted it, then, but they resolved that if naivete was the worst of Laurie’s offenses, they could fall in love with all of him - the good and bad.

In his attempts to demonstrate the enchantment of winter (because Laurie was a true romantic, and he did insist winter was enchanting), he had exhausted every effort he could think of.

He had taken (Y/n) out to ice skate, had taken them to a winter dance, and had even stolen some of his grandfather’s seasonal wines for them to share. Although that last one was largely a success, before they were caught, (Y/n) still couldn’t shake the idea that winters brought nothing but misery. It was an instinct set deep in the fibre of their soul; something created the moment they were born, when the ice and cold had stolen them from the warmth of a mother.

It seemed, even with Laurie’s efforts, that there was one inescapable truth about (Y/n)’s experiences:

Winters were bleak and their frosts were long, lingering well after the snow had melted and the sun dared to peek out once more.

When it neared the end of winter, (Y/n) had assumed that Laurie had let his little project go. It had been a while since he asked them about their opinion of the winter months, and while (Y/n) still caught him staring every once in a while, he made no effort to speak of what he was thinking.

On a day when the cold seemed to be letting up, (Y/n) and Laurie made plans to meet the next day. He had some books he wanted them to see, and (Y/n) was in the throes of a crisis - finding themself unable to oppose Laurie’s good, if often too forward, nature.

When (Y/n) woke to find that it had snowed sometime between night and early morning, they had sighed, but steeled themself to the reality of it. The day prior they had promised Laurie they would go over, and when Laurie had smiled, they had even promised to be in a better mood. Laurie had said that they needn’t hide their feeling for his sake, but (Y/n) put their hands over his and told them they wanted to.

“It won’t be winter for much longer.”

It wouldn’t have been the first time (Y/n) managed to speak too soon.

Bundled in their warmest clothes, (Y/n) had set out in the cold, intent to walk to Laurie’s house, no matter the weather. The snow crunched beneath their boots, and the rising sun made a blinding glare against the white expanse, but they journeyed forth.

Laurie didn’t live too far away from (Y/n). In the summer months, walking to his house was a welcome distraction and the view of the world in full bloom never ceased to amaze them. (Y/n) looked around at the snow covered world around them and tried to appraise it in Laurie’s eyes - what enchanting beauty could be found, when everything was frozen in time?

Perhaps there was something beautiful in the vastness of it - when covered in snow, the world didn’t seem to end at definite horizon. The clouded sky met the snowy land in a sort of haze - one color mixing with the other and never quite distinguishing itself. And the icicles hanging from trees seemed to shine like diamonds when the sunlight hit them, just right. The ice was sharp and deadly, yes, but it was also delicate and easily broken.

(Y/n) stopped beneath a tree and when they looked back at the way they came, there was almost something poetic in the way their steps had made a trail - like their existence in the world left a mark, no matter how small.

(Y/n) looked down at their shoes, shaking their head at their own thoughts. If only Laurie saw them now - he might think all of this was his doing.

Perhaps it was.

(Y/n) scuffed the fresh layer of snow with the tip of their shoe, revealing some of the grass beneath - a dark green that reminded (Y/n) of the decorations Laurie had insisted on putting up, claiming that the atmosphere alone would be enough to convince them of the beauty of winter.

(Y/n) was careful to admit it, but all of Laurie’s antic - from the most simple to the elaborate - had made them feel better. Most of the time. Laurie’s presence alone was enough to coax happiness out of them, pushing down that melancholy that stubbornly clung to their being.

“(Y/n)!” A voice brought them out of their thoughts, and it took a moment for (Y/n) to realize they had been smiling.

Laurie, wrapped in a thick coat, was running over to them, his expression a blur and hair flying wild. The sun was rising with him and made it hard to focus on his nearing figure for long, but when he was close enough, Laurie blocked the glare with an amusement that seemed to shine brighter than his heavenly competitor.

“I didn’t think you’d come out for a walk.”

(Y/n) brought a hand up to tame his hair. “Well, I did promise you, didn’t I?”

Laurie nodded his head, dark hair flying once more. “I just thought that with the snow, you might have changed your mind.”

“If it was anyone else, I would have.”

“Do I really mean that much to you?”

(Y/n) felt their cheeks get hot and burrowed their face deeper into their scarf. Laurie hummed in acknowledgement, neither triumphantly nor disappointedly, just markedly.

“You wouldn’t be admiring the weather, would you? I was trying to compose a poem on my way here - something that would capture the essence of a final snow.” (Y/n) scoffed and Laurie’s teasing eyes caught their gaze. “Perhaps you have a line or two to add?”

“Maybe,” (Y/n) conceded, “but only if I can write it somewhere warm - preferably in front of a fireplace, with those books you mentioned.”

The two set off in the way Laurie had come, (Y/n) making it a point to step in his footprints from earlier so that they might avoid getting wet anymore than they already were. Despite having consented to the idea that the winter might be slightly beautiful, in its own, haunting sort of way, (Y/n) was still averse to the cold, and there was nothing worse than the kind of cold that stuck to your skin after getting your clothes wet.

It was when Laurie’s house was in sight, and closer to them than the distant horizon, that snow started to fall from the heavens, sprinkling through Laurie’s dark hair and settling on his scarf. A snowflake fell on (Y/n)’s eyelashes, and they took in a breath, preparing to sigh, but stopped themself short. Laurie looked at them from the corner of his eye, just barely managing to suppress a smile from creeping onto his lips; there was affection in his eyes, though, sweet and pure.

“(Y/n),” Laurie grabbed their hands and the party in question turned to them, snow collecting on their head like the soft down of a duckling. “Do something for me?”

“What?”

Laurie fell back into the snow, letting go of (Y/n)’s hands as he dropped so that he wouldn’t pull them with him. He fell back with an “oof” that seemed to knock the wind out of him, but he quickly recovered started moving his arms and legs, fanning outwards to create a snow angel.

(Y/n) scoffed and shook their head. “Laurie, you’re going to get all wet.”

“And so will you, when you join me.” Laurie’s smile was convincing, making up for his lack of persuasion skills. (Y/n) was able to resist, if only barely.

They opened their mouth to refuse, but no sound came. Laurie seemed to notice the falter in their resolve because he held out a hand, sitting up carefully as to not ruin his angel.

“The house is right there. We’ll be inside before the cold seeps through the layers of your clothes.”

“Is this another attempt of yours to get me to fall in love with winter?”

Laurie smiled devilishly, despite what he had created just moments before. “You’ve already fallen in love. My schemes are over.”

Laurie was right - (Y/n) had fallen in love - but whether it was with winter or the boy who pointed out it’s beauty, was hard to tell. Maybe a snow angel would help them decide...

“Fine, for you.”

A moment after the words left their lips, Laurie reached for their hand and tugged them downward, pulling (Y/n) with such a force that they stumbled in their fall and landed half on top of him. (Y/n) shrieked and screwed their eyes tight.

They were awfully close, when dared to peek. Lauries cheeks were flushed scarlet, although whether it was from the cold or their position was hard to determine. (Y/n) shuffled away and lay down in the snow, hesitating before putting their hands out. Laurie lay back down, a little breathless, and the two stared at each other for a moment before laughing, not minding the wet snow beneath them.

(Y/n) eventually pushed their arms out and made their frozen angel, their fingers grazing Laurie’s arm.

When the two stood up, they both looked at their creations with a critical eye.

“We ruined those pretty well, don’t you think?”

“You were the one who pulled me down!”

“You didn’t give yourself enough space to make wings.”

(Y/n) and Laurie looked at the other challengingly before breaking out in chuckles.

“Let’s get inside. I wouldn’t want your newfound love of winter spoiled by catching a cold.”

(Y/n) nodded, but it wasn’t until they were sitting in front of a fire, books between them and blankets draped over their shoulders, that (Y/n) told Laurie, in just above a whisper, that it wasn’t winter they had discovered their affections for.

#little women #laurie laurence #theodore laurie laurence #laurie x reader #laurie laurence x reader #theodore laurence x reader #reader insert #laurie imagine #laurie laurence imagine #theodore laurence imagine #fluff #slight angst #tw mentions of death #holiday prompts #imagine #one shot #fic #fanfiction #fanfic

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anniesocsandgeneralstore · 2 years

Text

@a-reader-and-a-writer requested: 3. Snowball fight

Romanticgumchewer's Christmas Spectacular - DAY THREE - Snowball Fight! (Rick Flag x OC)

Summary: Everyone was just trying to have a nice time in the first snow at the new place, too bad somebody had to open fire.

Pairing: Rick Flag x OC / Squad Family & OC (Delphia Holman)

Word Count: 1492

Warnings: language, found family goodness, snowball violence

Timeline: December 2021

if i go masterlist

A/N: please look at the timeline date before reading, all of these Christmas pieces are taking place different years!

Cleo was the first one awake. A very, very rare occurrence. She stumbled out of her room, rubbing at her eyes with Sebastian nodding off on her shoulder — mind focused on the couch in the living room and going back to sleep. She wasn’t even entirely sure why she had gotten out of bed in the first place. Was she thirsty? Yes. That must have been it. The sun was already up, coating the hallways and the downstairs area in fresh morning light.

Thumping into the kitchen, she pulled a glass from the cabinet and went to the fridge to fill it, eyes barely peeled open. The couch was calling her name from the living room, singing its siren song of sleep and warm blankets. But then her eyes, hooded and bleary with sleep, caught on the window above the sink.

Cleo instantly perked, a gasp falling from her lips as she pulled her cup from the fridge door and moved to stand completely in front of the window.

It snowed last night. A big, thick blanket of it had fallen over the entire backyard. It was beautiful and sparkling and untouched. And she had never seen anything like it in her entire life. Growing up on the streets of Lisbon, she only saw the slush of the city and saw snowfall as something to fear because of the cold. This was the first time snow seemed like a wonder, a gorgeous thing that she couldn’t wait to sink her feet and hands into.

But she wanted the rest of her new family to be able to experience it with her.

She dashed back up the stairs, now fully awake, Sebastian squeaking and hanging onto her shirt for dear life. Rick and Delphia’s door was up first. Cleo pounded on the hard wood with a grin, unable to keep still as she waited for one of them to respond.

“Someone better be fuckin’ dead,” Rick grumbled from the other side of the door, clearly half asleep.

“It snowed, Colonel Flag! Look!” Cleo called.

“Is that Cleo?” she heard Delphia question, “What’s she talkin’ about?”

“It snowed I guess,” Rick said back.

“Really?”

Cleo heard through the door as someone got out of their bed, an excited gasp, and then Delphia was yanking open the door as she pulled on her plush robe.

“It looks beautiful!” Delphia breathed, “Wanna go out there?”

“Yes! You read my mind, Dee. Let’s wake everyone else up!”

So the two of them went down the rest of the hall, banging on doors and yelling for people to get up. The first snow of December was here, the first snow while they were all together as a new kind of family. Abner shuffled out of his room with barely cracked open eyes and heavily disheveled — but curious enough to see what all the fuss was about. Harley came out to the hallway just as excited as Cleo and Delphia. Nanaue side stepped out of his doorway asking if it was time for breakfast, and when Delphia explained to him that they were going to go out in the snow, he matched the general glee of the house. DuBois was the only one who refused to come out, claiming that it was “fucking stupid” to go out into the snow just for “shits and giggles”.

Delphia pouted to Rick once everyone was heading downstairs to get their coats and boots on. He chuckled as he pulled her into a hug, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. He was tired, the entire night before spent unpacking the last of the boxes from his DC storage unit, but God did he love that look of pure, unadulterated joy that was on her face when she saw all that snow.

“We’ll get’m down eventually,” he said.

“Oh, alright,” she sighed back before making her way down the stairs herself.

The snow was even more beautiful than through all their windows. The air was bitterly cold, stinging their cheeks as soon as they walked through the door. But the snow was soft, crunching underfoot and sparkling in the morning light. Even the trees that lined the yard from all sides were coated in a layer of snow, each branch now bearing a white weight that occasionally fell like powder as animals moved among them. It was wonderful and magical and felt like the perfect thing just before their first Christmas as a family.

Harley was the first to collapse back into the snow, arms outstretched and feet wide. She landed on her back with a crunch and a flurry of giggles before she started moving her arms and legs, creating a mischievous snow angel. Cleo joined her in the activity immediately, finding great joy in it and instantly begging Abner and Nanaue to make angels as well.

Delphia and Rick wandered over to the gazebo, snow domed on its top and coating the railings, taking in the general splender of a fine December morning. The laughter of four ex-cons echoed in their ears and it brought a smile to Delphia’s face. A fresh start for all of them. Where snow was something that could be enjoyed. Not dreaded because it meant they would freeze, or something they could never dream of going out and playing in. She stepped into the gazebo with her hands shoved in her coat pockets and a bright smile on her face.

“What’re you smilin’ about?” Rick asked with a grin of his own as he joined her under the roof.

“This.” She gestured out towards the yard, to Cleo and Harley now throwing snow at DuBois’ window screaming at him to join them. “This life. We did pretty damn good, Colonel, if I do say so myself.”

“Yeah — we sure did.”

Rick leaned back against the railing and grabbed Delphia by the hips, pulling her into him with a knowing grin. She reached up, hands fiddling with the zipper of his carhart.

“I wanna kiss you,” he muttered.

“I’m not gonna stop you,” she replied.

But just as he began to lean in, eyes slipped closed and all, a snowball smacked into the back of his head. It exploded in a beautiful white flurry that had Delphia instantly covering her mouth to hide the laughter that wanted to burst out of her. But Rick heard it, of course he heard her whoop of laughter just before her hand clapped over her lips. He took a deep breath before opening his eyes and glaring playfully down at her.

“I didn’t do it!” she chuckled out.

He turned towards the yard with his hands on his hips. Everyone was standing around trying to act as casual as possible. But DuBois was standing directly behind him, several feet away, with his hands behind his back and whistling. Rick narrowed his eyes.

“Who threw that?” he asked, though he didn’t sound actually angry about it, try as he might.

“Wasn’t me!” Harley sang from her spot by the patio.

The rest of them chorused similar sayings. Not wanting to give up the culprit — even though Rick was pretty positive of who was guilty.

“Well, whoever it was,” he spoke slowly as he krept back out from the gazebo, leaving Delphia to inch herself down behind the railings for what she knew was coming, “They’re about to get a face full’ve snow.”

He crouched down, formed a perfect snowball in his hands. But as soon as he was standing, everyone on the squad hurled their own snowballs at him — each one hitting their target expertly. A perfectly formed plan that Rick honestly had to give them credit for as he spluttered and shook off the clinging snow.

“Every man for himself!” DuBois yelled as Rick let his first snowball fly.

It turned into an all out brawl that Delphia had a front row seat to. Snowballs flew through the air in perfect archs and went across the yard like arrows finding their target. Shreeks of delight filled the yard, along with laughter and noises of triumph. But then, Nanaue created a massive lump of snow the size of a small child and dashed across the yard — guffawing with such joy. He found three of his teammates huddled behind a quickly slapped together snow wall, Harley, Abner, and DuBois, and smashed the giant snowball down over their heads. Effectively burying them in snow.

Delphia popped up from her hiding place, concerned. Everyone stopped flinging snow at one another long enough to see if they were okay. Eventually, their heads popped up through the snow.

“Fuck! Nanaue!” DuBois groaned as he pulled himself up, shaking off the snow with a shiver before he helped Harley and Abner up as well.

“Maybe now would be a good time for a truce and hot chocolate?” Delphia suggested.

“Yes, please!” Everyone replied.

So they all trudged back inside. Cold, slightly damp, but happy and free.

Taglist (if you would like to be tagged in future installment, just let me know!): @bbygrgu @a-reader-and-a-writer @slayerx147 @xoxabs88xox @kasey-puff @witchygagirl @the-pink-petite-princess @blooo0ooop @woodlandmouth @csigeoblue @rexorangecouny @h-hxgirl @thisisthewayrose @blondiekook @darkestbeforethedawn16 @runic-belova @weallhaveadestiny @oopsiedoopsie23 @nerdgrrlramblings @ocfairygodmother @reysorigins @hawsx3

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