#just me writing stuff again

[shady-tavern]

Winter Star

Some children were born touched by nature, carrying the warmth of the sun, the brightness of spring and the gentle patience of the earth. They were rare, but everyone knew their stories and knew how wonderful they had been. 

They knew about the girl touched by summer, who had been taken by a fae woman, the Stag Queen. There was the boy of autumn, who the stars had lured away, never to be seen again and a handful of others, whose fates had been the same.

One day, a girl came into this world with hair as white as snow, lashes like frost and skin as pale as the moon she was born beneath. Everyone who laid eyes on the babe knew immediately she was one of those special ones, beautiful as flowers in the middle of winter and as elegant as drifting snowflakes on cold winds.

Her parents worked hard to keep her safe and raise her to be kind and clever, spending much of their hard earned coin to dress her well and see her educated, knowing a great future would await her. So long as no one took her. 

They warned her of the dangers of the world as she grew older, to mistrust strangers and duck out of sight should someone peer at their humble home. However, not even their best attempts to shield her from the world could stop the spreading rumors.

"She is as lovely as snow in the sun," the baker would tell anyone who'd visit his shop, proud of the special girl that grew up down the street of their cozy village.

"Do you know these wonderful early mornings where the light looks gold and pink and everything is so so beautiful it steals your breath away?" the cobbler would sigh dreamily to everyone who'd listen to her. "That's how it feels to look at her."

Soon people came to see the girl touched by winter, the one who was rumored to walk as though she was floating and she was said to possess such graceful manners it would make royalty turn green with envy.

People started to grace the steps of their home in growing numbers with gifts and sweet words carried on silver tongues. Hopeful fathers with curious and often infatuated sons, merchants who donned their finery in hopes of looking more enticing. The parents refused them all, citing that their daughter was still too young to chose.

It became a sort of contest amongst the curious and hopeful, to try and glimpse even a hair of the rumored maiden. Those who did manage to see her for just a moment left smiling dreamily and spreading ever more rumors.

The girl soon grew into a young woman and now her suitors were no longer just merchants and local business owners. Now she received letters and gifts from wealthy traders and even nobles.

One day, a messenger of the prince of their lands stood at their door, offering a chest of jewels and a richly embroidered dress deserving of a future queen. The young woman refused him gently and with kind words, as she had refused all other gifts.

Shortly afterwards, a holy knight asked for a moment of her time, offering his blessed castle to guard her from all evil and unbreakable vows of devotion. She gently and kindly refused him as well. 

He vowed to win her heart and return with better offers just as the prince did, who would not give up so easily, soon sending another messenger.

She refused their gifts of riches and protection anew with a kind word, while her parents debated. Her mother, ever worried about her safety and wanting the best possible future, grew fond of the idea that her daughter might become a princess. One day even a queen. This would certainly be a dream come true for any parent.

Her father, pious and ever concerned about the magical dangers of the world, was particularly fond of the holy knight. He was rather taken with the idea that his daughter might one day live in a place no evil could reach while also receiving enough money to be comfortable.

"The prince is said to be a handsome, well mannered young man," her mother said while they baked for the harvest festival, autumn coloring the landscape outside. Winter was approaching and whenever it did their daughter seemed to grow all the more beautiful for it. "He would be good to you."

"The knight is strong and well versed in the dangers of the world," her father countered that evening, as he whittled and she embroidered the hem of a new dress with fine, delicate stitches. "He would keep you safe."

Soon the gifts changed from material goods to whatever strange and magical things her suitors could find. They hadn't given up on her yet, on winning the Winter Bride, as they started to call her.

"This owl loses gems whenever it shakes its wings," the prince's messenger said with a proud flush to his cheeks, as though he was courting the young woman himself, not his prince. The owl was a gorgeous animal, as frost colored as the young woman herself, housed in a small cage made of pure gold.

"His Highness says you may keep it," the messenger held the cage out, nose and forehead bitten red from the cold that had settled over the land. "So you may think of him whenever you look at it and your heart may grow as fond as his has grown of you."

The young woman accepted the cage with soft words and the messenger left grinning from ear to ear. Her parents were delighted, chattering about such a special gift while their daughter took the owl out the kitchen door to the backyard.

While her parents were busy discussing the merits of her becoming a princess, she opened the door of the cage and carefully helped the owl out.

"That's better, isn't it," she said softly as she watched the owl fluff up and shake its body in relief, gems falling from between its feathered wings. It turned its head to watch her for a long moment and she held her arm a little higher, uncaring that the talons of the owl left bleeding scratches along her arm.

"Go, if you wish," she told it with a smile as light as fresh snow. "Be free."

The owl gave her a regal nod and took off, disappearing swiftly. The young woman smiled, her heart glad and she returned inside to find her parents dismayed. They couldn't stay angry for long, however, sighing after scolding her for wasting such a precious gift. 

Her father muttered afterwards that maybe the prince didn't know what a woman's heart truly wanted. Her mother, fiddling with the wool she was knitting socks out of, countered that he would find something to win their daughter's heart soon.

The holy knight arrived the next day with a cage woven out of brambles and he presented her with a snow-white fox with eyes of molten gold.

"This one will warn you of dangers and tell you if you are in the presence of evil minds," the knight offered, bowing deep as he held out the cage. "This is a mere gift, no strings attached. May it protect you in my absence and may you find you desire my presence instead one day."

The young woman took hold of the cage and as the knight left, her parents cheerfully discussed weaving a leash for the fox and where to keep it. Her father was nearly dancing with joy as he praised the knight for his thoughtfulness and what this in turn promised for their daughter's future.

The young woman smiled and left them to it, taking the fox out to the backyard. She ignored the way the brambles scratched up her hands as she unmade part of the cage and let the fox jump out, it's snout bloody from trying to bite its way to freedom.

"Go, if you wish," she told it with a smile as lovely as frost flowers. "Be free."

The fox bowed its head in gratitude and ran, swifter than any mere animal and it was soon gone with long strides that looked as though its body weighed no more than a feather. The young woman returned inside and once more her parents were quite upset at having lost such a precious gift.

They couldn't stay angry for long again however, and sighed. Her mother suggested the knight might need to choose his next gift more smartly, while her father grumbled that there must be something out in the world their daughter wanted.

"You must choose who to marry one day," her father told her gently, as though he could soften the order into a plea. "You must stay safe. I'm sure you'll chose well when the time comes."

He cast a significant look to the holy symbol over their hearth, while her mother nodded, tipping her head tellingly towards the small pouch holding the gems the owl had dropped.

The next day, after a night of the season's first snowfall, the young woman woke to find frost covering her windows entirely. It looked as though the snow had piled up all the way to the roof outside.

"I thank you," an ice wind whispered when she opened the windows to peer outside, a thick blanket of snow covering everything. "You returned my dearest friends to me after they were taken when I wasn't there. Two wishes I grant you for saving their lives, use them well."

She felt the magic settle over her as the wind finished blowing past and she couldn't help but peer out into the winter wonderland, as though she could catch a glimpse of whoever had spoken to her. It must have snowed very thickly that night to create that much snow, a quite unusual thing.

Seeing nothing and no one, she rubbed the frost off of the windows and went about her day, two wishes cradled close to her heart. They felt like a refreshing coolness within her, the way a bath in the river was revitalizing during hot summer days.

As winter settled over the land like a content cat in front of the fireplace, she received more gifts. A nightingale who sang so sweetly it made listeners cry, a white hare with fur so fine it was considered the softest in the world. She let each of them go and every time she opened a cage, she felt a change in the winds.

They grew colder each time that presence was back, the one she had felt during the first day of winter.

"Why do you not ask for anything?" the ice wind wondered one day after she unbridled a unicorn the holy knight had captured for her. It paused just long enough to press its velvet-soft nose against her cheek, thanking her silently, then it took off, trailing whispers of magic behind it. "Why not keep the wondrous ones you are offered so freely?"

"Would you like a cage?" she asked in return, watching in quiet awe as the unicorn disappeared. "Would you enjoy a leash or collar, to be bound to the whims and wills of those who hold you in their hands?"

"No," the wind answered in a solemn tone. "You are wise and kind, not many would do as you do."

Maybe, maybe not. She had no way of knowing, having never left the village. All she knew about the world were the things she had read in books she had managed to sneak away and what other people had told her. 

She had found, however, that people tended to paint the world dark and evil whenever she listened, to warn her of its many dangers. To ensure she would not set a single foot into the forest, to ensure she would not walk beyond the village border, to ensure she would not chat with strangers the villagers hadn't vetted. 

She still vividly remembered how panicked and worried her parents had been. How they had cried bitter tears when she had fallen asleep in their neighbor's hayloft, reading a book of fairy tales, and they hadn't been able to find her for hours. 

"Good wind," she spoke up. "Might I bother you to tell me about the world? You must have seen much of it."

"I have," the wind answered. "Is that your first wish?"

She was quiet for a long moment, then she smiled. "A true story, every night for a year. That is my wish."

"I will bring cold with me whenever I visit," the wind warned her. "For I am ice and snow, frost and blizzard. I am winter itself. Are you certain?"

The young woman turned to look back at her humble, warm home and thought of her mother's beloved flowers and her father's meticulously tended herb bed.

"Two true stories every night for as long as this winter lasts," she amended. "Will you accept my wish?"

"I accept," Winter answered solemnly. "Light a candle at your window, when it is the only light that still burns in your home, I will come."

The wind blew away and the young woman returned inside, her parents sighing, rueful and exasperated as they accepted the bridle with gold decorations and spun out of enchanted silver thread.

"Always giving away what would enrich your life," her father grumbled, rubbing his forehead as though getting a headache. "But it's alright, if this is not what you want, surely someone will find a gift soon."

"Our beautiful, strange girl," her mother murmured fond and wry all at once, kissing her on her brow. "Will one of them ever make you happy one day?"

"We'll find the right one," her father said reassuringly, pulling them both into a hug. He turned to look at his daughter, "And we'll make sure you never have to fear being taken."

That night the young woman lit a candle and waited. She had almost fallen asleep when the window slipped open a crack and she felt icy winds brush through the room, trailing a handful of snowflakes in its wake. Immediately the windows frosted over to pure white and any warmth was gone between one breath and the next.

"A wish is a wish," Winter said. "And here are your stories, as promised."

Winter first told her a story of lands beyond the mountains, of tall cliffs and hardy forests. It told her of raging oceans that froze solid whenever autumn passed and the reindeers that thundered across it to different lands. 

Winter was kind enough to answer any questions she had and she soon knew why the reindeers did what they did, how the ocean froze.

The second story was rather sad in her opinion, it was of two lovers who had run from an abusive father and a loveless marriage respectively. They had escaped into the night by the skin of their teeth and Winter told her of their journey through snow and ice. They lastly died, two miles from home, holding each other, smiles frozen unto their faces.

"Have many people died this way?" the young woman couldn't help but ask.

"Yes," Winter answered. "And many more will. The cold is no place for those who need warmth to live. Good night now, you who shines like a star, I shall see you again tomorrow."

She fell asleep to the soft whistle of air as Winter left, gently pulling the window closed behind it. Her dreams were filled with wondrous sceneries and people wandering through a snowy forest, away from their warm and yet unsafe homes.

The young woman soon looked forward to Winter's visits the most, eagerly going to sleep each night and secretly she hoped this winter might last just a little longer. The prince and holy knight, as well as many of her other more persistent suitors were quickly forgotten when confronted with stories of the world at large.

And finally she got to know what the world truly was. It was indeed dangerous, but it was also incredibly wonderful. Every story filled her with wonder and longing, chasing away the wariness her parents had painstakingly instilled within her.

The young woman felt as though she had forced herself to be a frozen lake all her life, still and quiet and unmoving, never leaving and never changing. Now, however, it felt as though the thrum of reindeer hooves had made the ice tremble and with each story she wanted more. 

With each story she felt her childhood dreams emerge, that deep seated adventurous spark she had smothered upon seeing her parents' tearstained, panicked faces. She had loved them too much to cause them grief and so she had made sure to be obedient and sweet at all times.

She also hadn't wanted to be taken away, to live a horrible life and to never see her parents again. She hadn't wanted to upset them and make them cry or discuss strategies to keep her safe until late at night.

But deep down, beneath the stillness she forced upon her soul, she had never quite stopped looking beyond what she knew. To peer towards the woods and wonder what laid there, to watch travelers and dream of the lands they must have seen.

"Thank you," she murmured as Winter left, sleep rising to claim her. "You're the only one who doesn't tell me everyone wants to hurt me."

Winter was silent, the window cracked still and she wasn't sure if she imagined it or not, but it almost sounded as though they said, "You can count on my aid for as long as I am here, should you need it."

She smiled and felt the furs she had started to take to bed being pulled up to her chin by what seemed to be hands. She was asleep the next moment, unable to open her eyes once more and check.

Winter soon had to move on, however and she mournfully said goodbye to her new friend.

"If you wish it, I can ask my friends to visit," Winter offered on the last day, only snowy slush remaining on the ground and water dripping off of trees. The only spot where there was still true cold was where the wind blew and she swore she could almost make out a shape as it moved. "They could tell you about things I have not seen."

"Then let this be my other wish," the young woman agreed, a glad smile brightening her face. "I would happily welcome the company."

"A wish spoken is a wish granted." She felt cold brush past her cheek, almost like a caress. "I will see you again soon," Winter promised. "If you wish."

"Oh, I very much wish so," she reassured them, reaching out to find invisible strands of wind weaving around her fingers, cold gently brushing her skin. "Will I ever see you in full?"

"Maybe one day." With those words Winter left, trailing the last bit of ice of the year in their wake.

And as promised, the young woman wasn't without company. Spring spoke to her through blooming flowers and invited her to playful dances in moonlight by luring her out the window, promising to look after her.

"There is no joy in never getting to laugh," Spring told her, a grin bright in that sweet, often mischievous voice. "Come, jump and let me catch you!"

Spring was bright and joyful and taught her much about the world. It told her of large meadows that bloomed so brightly one saw only color as far as the eye could see. It told her funny stories of silly animal antics and where it could find acorns and seeds buried in the ground to be raised up into new plants.

The knight and prince were still persistent, hoping to win her heart with more magical creatures and even a few enchanted items, which the young woman refused. She had no need for a necklace that made her sing like a siren nor for bracelets that teleported her to the knight's side in case of danger.

After spring came summer, full of warmth and sweetness. Summer winds encouraged the young woman to walk barefoot outside, to turn her face into the winds and smell all the scents that could be brought over. To dare and set foot into the forests to find the most wonderful berries to pick and to watch deer graze peacefully.

Her parents never knew, she made sure not to worry them, but with each day, with each thing she did, she felt her heart grow. And with it, her yearning for more. To see the places she had been told of, to hear the sound of the ocean and smell a valley of flowers.

The prince and knight started to grow impatient, wondering what it took to make her their bride. They became more insistent, their words losing their sweet tone bit by bit.

"You're not getting any younger my dear," the baker told her when she came to pick up bread, her pale dress making her look like a walking piece of winter in the middle of summer. "They're soon going to change their minds and then where will you be? Filled with regret. So take an old man's advice and be smart."

"Surely one has made you fall in love, either with them or their riches," the cobbler said as she passed by. "You should let them know and arrange a wedding. We're all looking forward to the festivities."

She had no idea how to tell them that she hadn't chosen any of her suitors, that none of them had won her heart. Not with coin and not with living beings caged and collared. How could she have kept a single one of them, or fallen in love for that matter, if she felt trapped herself?

A comfortable, pretty cage made by loving parents, the bars wrought out of worry and kindness, but a cage nonetheless. And they were seeking to put her in another one, bigger and prettier, but just as locked up tight. All in the name of safety. All so they could have the winter girl and not someone else.

The young woman wondered if such a thing must be necessary. If there was a way to live free without fear. Surely there must be one.

She asked Autumn, for Summer had left before she could put her feelings properly into words. Autumn was busy as a bee, zipping from place to place to ensure harvest would be done in time, talking so fast she sometimes couldn't quite follow entirely.

"Of course you can go wherever you want," Autumn said while rustling leaves artfully, only to change its mind a moment later and turn it into cheerful chaos. "There, that's better. Winter Star, you are indeed unusual, that is true, but that is nothing bad. You can always call on us if you find yourself in trouble you can't solve alone."

"Are you certain?" she hadn't expected such an offer. The seasons had come in response to Winter's wish, after all. Autumn laughed, the leaves rustling around them, some more falling off trees.

"We have grown fond of you, worry not. Winter might have been able to ask us to say hello, but nothing beyond that." The winds tucked bright red and orange and yellow leaves into her hair until they looked like a messy crown. "Live, Winter Star. Life is too short to spend it cowering."

The young woman couldn't help but look past the village and to the forest beyond, the riot of colors autumn had brought and how it had even coaxed some trees into making their leaves especially pretty.

"Where do I go?" she couldn't help but ask, suddenly overwhelmed with all the options that seemed to lay themselves at her feet.

"Anywhere," Autumn answered with excited cheer. "Whenever you pack your bag to leave, you'll find that you have more friends than you thought and you will always find more. Go on, try it."

She couldn't simply up and disappear, of course. Not when it would ruin her parents. However, the next time she received gifts from the prince and knight, an idea sparked.

Autumn laughed when she talked about her plan and gladly agreed to help. Soon, gifts of a secret admirer appeared, promising all the things her parents were looking for. A home warded against evil, enough coin to keep their daughter happy and clothed and fed to the end of her days.

It took some finagling to make gifts for herself, but soon the young woman was caught by the idea of what made her happy. She gifted herself books and hardy boots and a bracelet made of colorful river stones. Her parents were befuddled at first, but seeing as she finally seemed to fall in love with someone, they were relieved.

The entire village spoke about it now, wondering who this mysterious stranger was and if they would get to meet them soon. The young woman made a marriage offer to herself and laughed when she accepted it in front of her parents.

"They will pick you up, won't they?" her mother fretted as she helped her pack. "I can't believe my little girl is getting married. We'll meet them soon, won't we? And don't you forget to invite us to the wedding."

"I'll be sure to visit," she promised and later asked Autumn for advice. "I can't just grab my things and leave like any old traveler, after all."

"Leave it to me," Autumn answered, before breezing away, muttering about stubborn berry bushes who really ought to know better by now.

A few days later, a young adult knocked at their door, dressed in fine autumn colored garb. They wore dark green breaches, earth-brown boots, a dark red tunic and a cloak of bright yellow wool, embroidered with dozens of fallen leaves in multiple colors. They bowed, hair windswept and eyes honey brown.

"It is an honor to meet you, I've come to pick up the young lady in the name of my master," the person said in Autumn's voice and when they met her gaze, they offered a quick little wink. The young woman couldn't help but grin, swiftly hiding it behind her hand when her parents glanced over.

"Oh, that is so lovely," her mother gasped when peeking outside and the young woman stepped forward to look as well.

Outside stood a gleaming carriage in gold and red-brown colors and it was pulled by none other than a unicorn. The very unicorn she had once freed. It looked at her, no bridle on its head and she felt as though it was smiling as it dipped its head a little.

The bags were swiftly loaded onto the carriage and a tearstained and heartfelt goodbye later, the young woman left for the first time in her life.

As soon as they were away from the village, she managed to clamber up onto the driver's seat to hug Autumn tight.

Autumn laughed, ruffling her snowy hair. "Now, you best learn how to drive because I do not have the time to take you anywhere, I still have to wrangle some lazy mushrooms."

After a quick couple of lessons, Autumn left, disappearing in a flurry of leaves and rustling clothes to continue on as it always did.

The young woman's heart was racing as she traveled on and on. Autumn visited often and in brief bursts, but soon the air grew colder and colder. The young woman felt excitement rise within her at the thought of Winter's return.

And then, one day, she felt ice winds brush past her. "I see you have found your freedom. I am glad."

"Welcome back," she breathed, her breath fogging in front of her. "I missed you."

Coldness that felt like fingertips brushed her hair back. "And I you. I am glad to see you well."

The young woman happily told Winter all about her plans, while Winter guided her to a place she could stay as it was too cold to travel. A cottage, recently abandoned, but it was easily made ready again. The young woman sold the carriage in a nearby town and the unicorn left after nuzzling her cheek.

She made sure to write home to her parents, while she explored the world around her temporary home with Winter often at her side. Sometimes Winter's other friends showed up, the fox hopping around playfully and the owl watching kindly from its perch in the trees. Winter told her stories all without prompting and showed her the hidden beauty of their season.

"If you wish, travel north," Winter told her as they laid together in the snow, watching bright, bright stars above them at night. "I will be able to show you dancing lights in the sky."

"Yes," she said and slowly, carefully, inched her hand across the space between them, until she felt that special kind of cold breeze. The wind slowly settled and she swore, from the corner of her eyes as long as she did not glance over, she could glimpse Winter's shape once more.

It was the best winter she had ever had and when it became clear her dearest companion would move on soon, she promised to meet the season halfway.

"Go north," Winter reminded her once more. "If you wish, I will wait for you."

She reached out and closed her eyes and this time she felt proper hands close around hers, though they weren't as icy as the blowing winds. Still cool, but she felt soft skin and elegant hands, the brush of a fur lined sleeve. "I will be there, I promise."

"Soon, then," Winter whispered, a smile in their voice, and she felt the brush of cool lips and a cold breath upon her cheek, smiling wide. When she opened her eyes again, she watched ice winds blow away, looking joyful as they trailed snow in their wake.

The young woman set out as Winter left, buying herself a horse and using the rest of the money from the carriage to have her things put in storage until she sent for them.

She left on her very first adventure, Spring urging her on, showing her the meadow of flowers and guiding her way across the land to where ocean waves lapped against fine-sand shores.

She got to meet and speak with many different people and sometimes Spring and later Summer warned her away from certain folks. But mostly, people did her no harm nor wished harm upon her. If anything, many approached her, concerned about her safety and offering to help her get where she wanted to go. She always declined kindly and smiled.

The young woman got to truly experience the world, listening to new music, visiting theatres when she came by cities and towns and eating food she had never dreamed of could exist.

She headed north at last, cutting her time with Summer short and meeting Autumn sooner. And then, the air grew cold and she felt a familiar, very dear presence.

"Hello," she said with a wide, happy smile appearing on her face. "I came, as promised."

"Let me show you everything," Winter breathed and there was excitement in that beloved voice. They traveled onward together and if the young woman tipped her head the right way, she saw Winter beside her, riding on a horse of snow and wind.

Soon she got to see the ocean frozen, as it had been in the very first true story she had ever heard. She watched reindeer trot across in big herds, holding out her hand and smiling when Winter took it, her heart so warm the cold around her might as well have stopped existing.

"Why chose me?" Winter asked as they settled down on a snow covered hill to watch the sun set. It looked truly beautiful. "There were many who tried to win your heart."

"But none understood it," she answered and when she looked up, she saw Winter truly for the first time, not as a season, but as the spirit it was. 

Tall and slim, with hair as white as hers and eyes as dark as the frozen ocean. Ice earrings as blue as glaciers dangled from their ears and snowflakes were woven through their hair like the finest veil, ending in a crown of icicles. Clothes in white and light blue draped across their form, lined with fur and half covered in frost.

"Maybe I would have fallen in love with one of the others, had they not offered me another cage," she admitted, giving that cool hand in hers a gentle squeeze. "But instead of expensive gifts and captured magical beings, you gave me stories and shared your friends with me."

One of those slim hands rose to cup her cheek, feeling a little frosty but not stinging her with its coolness. "You shine so brightly, I would never think about forcing you to dim."

"Then you have your answer." She tipped her head into their hand, letting it cradle the side of her face. "I have an idea. Let's make this place our home, so I can be with you for many months."

"Yes," they answered, brushing a cold kiss against her forehead and she could feel them smile against her skin. "And the rest of the year you'll get to be the adventurer you always wanted to be, my star."

That did sound like the best future.

*.*.*

"They'll love you, I promise," the young woman said, giving Winter's hand a gentle squeeze. "They've been asking to meet you and when our wedding will be."

"They will know what I am the moment they see me," Winter sighed but followed her up the path to her parents' house. It was dark and thick snow covered everything.

"They will, but they will also see that you never took me they way they feared and that I am happy." She looked up at the love of her life, the one who loved her for who she was in return. "Trust me."

Winter softened and pulled to a stop in front of the door, cupping her cheek in one elegant hand and leaning down to brush the loveliest of kisses upon her lips. "Always, my star."

The young woman grinned, happy and bright, like ice in the sun and cheerful snowfall. Then she raised her hand and knocked.

*.*.*

If you want to read more stories and support me at the same time, please consider checking out my Patreon! Where I post monthly, exclusive short stories, which helps pay the bills and frees up more time for writing!

#my writing #short story #winter #just me writing stuff again #original writing #I hope someone enjoys this story! #i had a lot of fun writing it #and I wanted to do something winter themed #there might be typos I overlooked #can't think of anything else to tag #I just wanted something soft and sweet with a bit of a fairy tale vibe #fantasy #again this got a wee bit long #what else is new tho when it comes to me #monster lover #in a way

[secretagentspydetectiveninja]

posting this with absolutely no context

#am i a cryptid now? i log on like once in a blue moon to post cringe and then leave again #ace attorney #apollo justice #tikki #random stuff #my stuff #ooookay okay okay okay. anyone reading the tags can have a LITTLE context‚ as a treat #so. sitting on my ao3 currently is an unfinished fic with exactly this premise #i want to finish it so bad. it haunts me every day. people leave such nice comments and everything #but i just have no motivation. trust me i've tried #i thought that perhaps drawing it might finally kick my brain back into gear #i'm so sorry readers i'm sorry i WILL finish it i promise it's not abandoned #it was so much fuuuuun #tikki are you seeing this. cringefail author who keeps playing video games instead of writing lmao #anyway goodbye friends i am gone again. logging off once more

[turtleblogatlast]

Every time I see trans Leo I smile. Like yes that turtle is trans thank you…

#rottmnt #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #rottmnt leo #trans leonardo #rise leo #so close to caving and just writing a full on fic or making a full on comic for trans leo ngl #sometimes I get so many feelings for trans leo and I go searching for stuff but that well is sadly quite shallow and I run out of things 😔 #the more time that goes on the more things I learn that just make me believe this headcanon even more #sorry it is one am and I’m having trans Leo thoughts again #my apologies ❤️

[prettyboyeddiemunson]

guys please reblog writers’ works, it’s really discouraging when our stuff doesn’t get shared around for others to see

#my likes to reblog ratio on all of my stuff is insane #and it’s making me wanna leave again or at the very least stop sharing my work here #ive been really discouraged lately and im gonna see how my ghostface fic does before I decide if i wanna keep writing here #i may just go back to ao3 only like before

[deoidesign]

This is your sign to be unhinged about your own characters and stories

I am giving you permission to make yourself whatever you want. set yourself free.

Make relationship charts.

Quizzes.

AUs.

Memes.

Moodboards.

Gifsets.

Animations.

Comics.

Form headcanons of your own characters, write yourself fanfic, dream up theories!

If it's fun, do it! DO IT!!!

You and your characters deserve to live!!!

It's enrichment!!! do it!!! Be alive and breathe life into your work! let it live!

#Youtube #the youtube tag was automatically added? anyways. #enrichment #my art #uhhh.. #memes #time and time again #webtoon #ttawebcomic #I'm being so so so so so genuinely serious about this by the way #it's genuinely so good for me and my mind #IDK if it discourages other people from making stuff at all? #I would be super doubtful that it would lol #but if it does then... if nothing else #it makes it so people have something a little more to enjoy than just my comic #but most of all. #its fun for ME!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!1 #THE MOST IMPORTANT MEMBER OF MY AUDIENCE!!!!!!!!!!!!! #I do also absolutely write myself fanfics #but no one gets to see that lol... #oh yeah #long post #sorry I always forget that one

[siren-of-agony]

Answers to "please stop"

No.

I can't.

I won't.

I don't want to.

I don't know how.

I will soon.

But then how will you learn?

We're almost done.

It's almost over.

Ask me again!

Oh well, if you're asking that politely…

Fine. For now.

Only once I've come up with something more fun.

Only once you've come up with something more fun.

Or what?

I know you can go a little bit longer.

You know I won't.

I love it when you beg.

I hate it when you beg.

I'm so bored by your begging.

Not until you're too weak to ask me to.

But I don't have anything better to do.

I wish I could.

Alright! See? All you had to do was ask nicely.

I'm not doing anything.

What, exactly?

Just once more, I promise!

Just once more, I promise! (🤞)

You're doing this to yourself.

You wanted this.

You want this.

You know you made me do this.

Are you ready to give me what I want, then?

I will once you give in.

What will you give me in return?

Why should I?

You know there is only one way to end this.

You know there is only one way this will end.

(Answers to "it hurts")

#whump #whump dialogue prompt #whump dialogue #whump prompt #whumblr #i had 2 ppl request a part two to the it hurts one #and i couldnt come up w enough stuff i liked #so here #have this instead #I wrote this all down yesterday when i was trying to fall asleep and i kept coming up w new things so i just kept unlocking my phone and #writing stuff down #i thought i had way less than last time but it's actually much more #granted i rly leaned into the differences just slight wording changes make #also i feel like half of these would do so much better with some sort of term of endearment stapled onto theme #them #so when reading them just imagine some of them with a darling or a sweetheart or a honey tacked onto them bc that's how i imgined them #also if these writing prompts end up on kinblr again and someone accuses me of forgetting safe words just know i'm gonna break into your #house and put mustard in your shoes

[viperwhispered]

Rest

Guess what? I've got more Jamil x reader for y'all. You can also find this on ao3. No warnings, just 866 words of kinda fluffy(?) caretaking stuff with gender-neutral reader.

At this point, you know Jamil’s schedule almost as well as he does. So, when you have the chance, you head to Scarabia’s kitchen, hoping to spend some time with Jamil while he and the other students prepare dinner. 

However, when you enter, it takes you but a moment to notice Jamil’s uncharacteristic fumbling and the tired look in his eyes. The way Jamil’s chopping the vegetables has you worried about him cutting himself with that knife he’s usually so adept with, and it seems it’s only force of habit that’s keeping him on track.

You frown, and when your eyes meet Jamil’s, you can already see him put his guard up.

So he knows what state he is in, huh? And still, here he is.

It seems Jamil is reading your thoughts, all of him telling you drop it before any words are even said.

At least he still lets you lean in and give a quick kiss to his cheek in greeting.

“Hello love. Do you still have a lot on your agenda for today?” you ask, keeping your tone low for at least some semblance of privacy in the busy kitchen.

“Nothing I can’t handle,” is the response you get.

Of course.

It takes a little more pestering before Jamil actually answers your question. Your lips purse. That list is far too long to your liking.

You take a moment to think, juggling your own plans and to-do list against the urgency of the things Jamil mentioned.

“Will Kalim be eating from that?” you ask, pointing at the food Jamil is preparing.

“Yes.”

“Alright, I won’t be touching that one, then. I’ve gotta do a few things but I’ll be back when you’re done here.”

“Don’t,” Jamil says with a glare, clearly aware of what you’re thinking.

Yet even his disapproving look doesn’t have the usual weight behind it.

“Yes. I will,” you say firmly, even as your heart curls inwards with another bout of concern.

Really, when did he get so tired?

And how did you not notice it earlier?

You leave the kitchen before Jamil can protest further, hurrying through the dorm corridors to find Kalim.

Soon you have an enthusiastic – and concerned – supporter for your plans. You have Kalim point out a few reliable Scarabia students to help with a few of the most urgent matters Jamil mentioned – cleaning up the common areas, delivering some paperwork to Crowley, preparing some dorm-wide notices – while you see to Kalim getting his school supplies in order for the following day. You even recruit a couple of third years to help Kalim with his homework.

You’ll see to the rest tomorrow – after all, you do also have a boyfriend to look after.

Your conversation over dinner can hardly be called anything else than an argument – despite Kalim’s best attempts at acting as a moderating force between you two. It is very tempting to ask Kalim to tell Jamil to take the rest of the day off – it’s not like Jamil would be willing to openly disobey a direct order. Still, you really don’t need to remind Jamil of his position on top of everything else that you’re already doing more or less against his wishes.

Eventually, however, Jamil’s had a square meal, the most urgent things on his to-do list are being taken care of, and you’ve managed to drag him to his bed.

“I really wish you wouldn’t push yourself so hard,” you murmur, your arms wrapped tightly around Jamil. You’re telling yourself you really do just want to cuddle, to offer some respite to Jamil. Still, there might also be a part of you worried that if you were to let go, he’d just jump up and get back to working himself to the bone.

Yet, for all his protestations, just the fact that you’ve gotten Jamil to lay down with you speaks volumes of his current exhaustion.

“I can’t just leave my duties, albi. You know this.”

“Making yourself too indispensable, is what you’re doing,” you protest.

Oh, you know it’s not so simple. Not with his background, not with all the expectations and assumptions.

But sometimes you really wish it would be.

Jamil merely scoffs in response to your words.

Still, it is undeniable that he is slowly beginning to relax in your arms, slowly bringing his head closer to yours. His eyes are starting to flutter, too.

“I will still need to help Kalim with his homework, at the very least.”

You wonder who he is trying to convince more, you or himself.

“Amin and Khalil are helping him. They’re basically top of their classes, aren’t they? I’m sure they’ve got it.”

Still, Jamil frowns.

You sigh. He really is not letting go, is he?

“Do you want me to go supervise?” you ask.

And leave you, unsaid yet hanging there right after your words.

“Don’t,” Jamil eventually says, the word barely more than a breath.

It seems he has accepted his fate.

You softly caress Jamil’s hair, listening to his softening breathing.

And when you wake up, wholly unaware of having been lulled to sleep in the first place, it’s to the lightest of touches from Jamil’s fingers.

Tagging @diodellet @twstgo @crystallizsch @jamilvapologist @jamilsimpno69 as per request If you'd like to be tagged for any future works, let me know!

#twisted wonderland #jamil viper #twisted wonderland x reader #jamil viper x reader #woop it sure has been quite the burst of creative energy lately #especially since this has apparently been sitting in my drafts since last august #but now you have it #I certainly can’t promise to keep up with this rate of writing (in fact I can promise I won't) but hey let's enjoy it while it lasts #and yes I’m hopping on the “jamil using arabic terms of endearment” train #I’ve read so many fics doing that that at this point it feels more natural than english ngl #even if english would probably be more canonical #also is it a *good* way to go about it to just pretty much just force someone to rest like this? probably not #is it sometimes the only way to get stubborn people to stop for a bit? perhaps #and is it something I might do? #...possibly #also oh boy can you tell that I'm avoiding jamil's dialogue like the plague lately? #I really need to reread so much of his stuff to get a hang of his voice again #(also if you notice typos pls tell me because they always bug me) #(or other wonkiness because I'm not a native speaker and sometimes things just go silly) #anyways hope y'all enjoy!

[sugarpasteltmnt]

(whispers) hey friends I appreciate your excitement but gentle reminder it’s not very polite to ask fanfic writers when the next chapter is gunna come out

#remember friends: fanfic writers do this for fun when they have enough down time and wanna write #I’m an adult with a lot of adult responsibilities going on!! #again I appreciate your enthusiasm but ur just gunna have to trust me #ESPECIALLY since I sort of have a posting schedule #gentle reminder that fic writers shouldn’t need a schedule ever #I just have one because it keeps me on my toes #and that’s just a personal preference #but even then it’s just sort of a rough guideline— sometimes life stuff happens!! #and remember!!! a chapter that takes time will always be better than a rushed one #sorry to pop off but ya girl has had. A Week. #I’m not mad just a little tired #probably gunna delete tomorrow #but for now g’d night #pastel prattling

[nibbelraz]

Falling back in love with your craft

#svsss #shang qinghua #scum villain #you know i think about how Shang Qinghua had an idea for PIDW and had to forgo it to cater to his fanbase #and how he met a reader that even if he shat on it loved his book and even helped to bring his real outline to life #i like to think he got back into writing in his new life and gets to make the stuff he wants #he's not pressured to do anything but create and just #fall in love with the process again #im projecting #✌️ but seriously it makes me insane to think about how even if shang Qinghua made that whole novel his number one hater still read it all #STILL loved part of the book so much #like it just makes me think theres always someone out there thatll see a peice of you in all your work and latch onto it to love #my art #nibbelraz

[whump-thoughts]

I am once again thinking about living weapon/guard dog whumpee's....

A living weapon whumpee who is just so extremely conditioned that they will not even sleep or eat if not given permission to do so by their master

A guard dog whumpee that is meant to be at their masters side at all times and also be alert to anyone that could be a threat to them but due to having spent so much time just trapped in a tiny and sound-proofed room being tortured for god knows how long, big crowds or even just like, multiple stimuli will cause them to have sensory overload

Living weapon whumpee that is legitimately terrifying, like they have and will kill at the command of their master and will obey the whims of them without any objections as well.

Multiple living weapon whumpee's! They are all deeply conditioned but also feel a very strong kinship towards each other, even if they cannot show it due to the conditioning

And how about their caretaker's?

A caretaker that is smaller and weaker than whumpee, being unable to carry or restraint them when necessary, yet still is determined to help them

A caretaker that is younger than whumpee and is both scared of and hesitant to help them!, whumpee being completely subservient to them does not calm their fear in the slightest

A caretaker that has given up on deconditioning whumpee, simple trying keeping them in a soothed passive state, where they don't harm others or themselves, but are not healed just using their own conditioning in a different way.

Idk man, sorry if something is written weirdly, it's 3 am and English is not my first language, hope ya thought these ideas were interesting at least.

#whump prompt #whump #living weapon whumpee #guard dog whumpee #multiple whumpees #conditioning #conditioned whumpee #bad caretaker #reluctant caretaker #ask to tag #pet whump #? i guess #once again. all the relationships between whumpee and caretaker in my whump prompts are non-romantic/platonic. idk i just dont like romance #oh also feel free to write stuff based on these. just tag me lol #martin's stash #<- tag for my posts. hi i am martin

[wavesoutbeingtossed]

Randomly thinking about “tolerate it” (narrator voice: it was not random) and how under the cloak of fiction it is ostensibly inspired by works like “Rebecca” (which Taylor said she read during the 2020 lockdowns I believe?), with the line of “you’re so much older and wiser” indicating that the speaker is significantly younger and inexperienced compared to the person she’s speaking to and a pretty direct reference to the plot of the book.

But I saw something somewhere once that stuck with me about how it might not be referring to relative age between the characters but chronological age as in the passage of time in a relationship. And that made me think about how in a contemporary context, it might not necessarily be referencing an actual age gap between the two characters, but rather a sarcastic or cynical response to the man’s claims that he has matured (“you’re so much older and wiser [than you were before/than you were when we met/etc.]”), which then made me think about that line in relation to the woman. And that it could be taken like, “you act like you’ve matured so much in our time together and like you know everything, while I’m supposedly still stuck as the girl I was when we first met.”

Which then made me think of the “right where you left me” of it all and did you ever hear about the girl who got frozen time went on for everyone else she won’t know it and the bit in Miss Americana where she talks about how celebrities get frozen at the age at which they got famous, and how she’s had to play catch up in a lot of ways not just in her emotional growth but kind of in general. (Which also made me wonder if she’s ever been called out for immaturity/lack of curiosity/lack of education about things in her life…)

Which then made me think about the rest of the song, and @taylortruther’s posts yesterday about “seven” and “Daylight” and the way Taylor idealizes her youth yet contrasts it with an almost sinister reality in its wake, and the line, “I sit by the door like I’m just a kid,” because the discussion raised that her relationship let her recapture some of the childlike joy and wonder she’d lost. So this line is a double-edged sword: the speaker sits by the door with childlike hope that the person will come home and cherish her, but on the darker side, feels like the child dealing with the monsters she doesn’t have names for yet and the feelings of isolation she felt as she aged.

I’m not saying the song is necessarily autobiographical; like most of the songs on folkmore, it’s clearly a fictionalized story based on media she’d consumed and created, but we know a lot of the fictional songs were infused with her own feelings and experiences and… This idea swirling in my head picked up steam and now I kind of can’t stop thinking about it. Sorry but I’m a little obsessed now.

Like maybe it might start to shed light on why she identified so strongly with the novel in the first place…

#the third eye has been opened #😵‍💫 #like tolerate it was always a difficult song #even when we learned it was based on Rebecca it obviously took on new meaning post-joever #and especially in light of ttpd #but the thought spiral i went on last night when i started thinking about all these connections #and the evermore of it all #I’m Charlie at the conspiracy board again #writing letters addressed to the fire #me thinking too hard about Taylor lyrics #evermore my beloved #tolerate it #i kinda gave myself the ick with all this 😵‍💫 #because of the ttpd of it all coming up #and i feel like i remember interviews where Taylor said joe was so well-read especially about like world events and politics and stuff #and supported her when she wanted to start speaking up (not getting into that) #but just based on ~vibes now I wonder if that was like a sore point too at some point #which again i have no proof of but just like… experience with pretentious millennial art bros lol #oh man oh man oh man #this feels like some sort of huge revelation at 1:00 am #when i started writing this lol #eta: when I queued this in the middle of the night i didn't see all the excellent discussion about the seven/folklore posts #so all of you who have been posting about them this morning consider yourselves tagged too!

[da-birb-writes-sometimes]

I'm not sure if your event is open just yet (potential time differences) but may I request Lilia, as the ghost, with the prompt 6.Bump in the night with romantic, fluff and maybe a bit of horror cause we know Lilia likes to scare people please?

I'm so sorry if I didn't do this right 😅

Bump in the Night; Lilia Vanrouge

Content; Gender-neutral reader, implied romantic feelings/pining

Content Warning; Swearing, light fear

Word Count; 700+

A/N; I hope you like what I came up with, Lilia will always be a little imp. And don't worry about formatting, you did everything perfectly!

Please do not put my work into AI. If you would like to see more of my work check out my masterlist!

You were grumbling to yourself as you lit some candles while holding a flashlight under your chin.

The power had gone out due to a blizzard, right when you were in the middle of catching up on your favourite show. But the weather didn’t care about the plotline or the barely warm soup that was now sitting sadly on your stovetop. No show and no dinner, you were shit out of luck tonight by the looks of it.

So instead, you grabbed all the candles you could find, a small horde of blankets, and hunkered down.

You fidgeted around, picking at some loose strings, and tapping to the beat of the battery-operated clock. 

… bored bored bored THIS SUCKS bored bored bored …

You dragged your hands down your face. Why couldn’t the power go out while you were asleep? Why did it have to go out on one of your only quiet nights to yourself? Why couldn’t the power wait until you had your dinner? 

The wind howled outside as if it were mocking you.

The hairs on the back of your neck stood on end, and the candles snuffed out, one by one. Not by a draft, or wind, but as if someone was pinching off the flame. The room was cast into darkness, only the pale blue light from outside lighting everything up in a dim silver cast.

Face the issue at hand that had all levels of nope nope NOPE written all over it? Or, hide under the blankets like you were a kid again?

… you hid under the blankets. You reasoned it wasn’t from fear, but rather to conserve your body heat, since hey, the candles died out due to some unforeseen and totally normal reason.

But then you smelt something burning.

There was no power though, nothing was working so why was something burning?

You shuffled to the kitchen and peered out from your blanket cocoon.

The soup, which was barely lukewarm, was now a charred mess of black sludge.

“The hell,” you hissed, eyeing the baffling liquid. Part of your brain was screaming DANGER DANGER DANGER!!! And the other part? It was mourning the loss of your dinner.

A breathy chuckle was in your ear.

You wanted to move, but you couldn’t. You were frozen in place by some unseen force.

You felt delicate fingers trace the back of your neck before they came to a stop at a pulse point, which was easy enough to find since your pulse was beating like a trapped bird trying to escape a cage.

“You always look the same,” the voice whispered, the chuckle and playfulness long gone.

The voice flitted closer, and you could make out a hazy figure in your peripheral vision, but just barely.

The figure, a petite figure, came to a stop in front of you. The only thing about them that felt physical, that was the most clear, were their magenta almost red eyes. They bore down on you with a weight; of knowing, of countless years, of longing, and a mix of grief and mischievous — an odd combination.

“What do you want,” you asked, fighting your mouth to spit out the words.

The man, you assumed the spectre to be a man at least, gave you a soft smile.

He took your face into his cold hands, or at least tried to, and rubbed circles into the apple of your cheeks. “Many things, dearie,” he sighed softly, “but only if you want them too. I’ll leave if you want me to. I just want to see you happy.”

An odd thing to say when you nearly gave me a stroke. 

Despite that near stroke though, you didn’t sense any malevolence from the ghostly figure who held you softly. And despite his cold touch, he was nothing but warmth, but in the sense of a weak candle.

One must just take care of the flame to see it grow.

Time after time, Lilia would find you, his spirit drawn towards yours.

I love you.

Never really said, but it would end in the same way. Him quietly loving you from the sidelines until he found his opening. An opening into your life, and your heart.

~~~~~~~

Taglist; @afunkyfreshblog @bloomstruck @eynnwwyjth @identity-theft-101 @ithseem @lucid-stories @moonsoup01637 @ryker-writes @twistwonderlanddevotee @xxoomiii

#dove does events #twst #twst x reader #twst x gn reader #lilia vanrouge #lilia vanrouge x reader #lilia vanrouge x gn reader #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twisted wonderland x gn reader #i tried my best and i hope you like the direction i took it in #lilia why are you giving me issues? LET ME WRITE YOU YOU SILLY MAN! *lilia proceeds to fly away chuckling* #gilf enjoyers rejoice! #i always struggle with tags since i only want to tag relevant stuff; the rest is just ramblings or easter eggs #i need to start writing again; yeash #adding to my masterlist in a bit; have some things i need to do #please ignore most of the tags; i don't know what i'm doing half the time in them

[spielzeugkaiser]

[First Part] - [second]

Baby (who still has no name) is warming up to Geralt, who also starts to connect some dots. (Like, I think he suspects that he's Jaskiers son, adopted or otherwise, but he won't even humor the idea that he could be the dad.) That being said - the kid is an angry teenager sometimes. Jaskier tried all he could as a single parent and they have a very loving relationship, but I also think they do argue quite a bit, and there is some tension.

And the more he gets to learn how Geralt truly is the weirder is gets, cause. He's a good guy? And either Jaskier is petty and was too dramatic and kept him from meeting his dad for nothing, or Geralt isn't a good guy AT ALL and has hurt Jaskier really bad, and he doesn't think Geralt has it in him, but some people (and especially alphas) get really weird and archaic around omegas? And he had to witness again and again, with how little respect his unbonded, single father of a bastard child was treated - is Geralt like that too? But Jaskier still only ever talked somewhat kindly about him. And from all he saw... he trusts Geralt. He's a quiet, but witty and honorable man. But is it fair to doubt the parent that was there for him, that raised him, that sacrificed so much for him? The poor kid is so conflicted.

#please tell me your headcanons and prompts about this 'verse it's just vibes so far and like 10% plot #geraskier #geralt of rivia #the witcher #ciri #omegaverse #geraskier lovechild #jaskier #i don't know where this came from #but I imagined the kid as quite sickly (which is ironic) - Geralt does not really remember that he was sick as a child all the time too #also I do think Jaskier can play the lute but it's no fun for his fingers and he switched to other stuff over the years #I'm quite sure that Jaskier kept a low profile after the Rience incident because he was TERRIFIED by the thought what could have happened #also I really wanted to look at this with a kind of more realistic lense when it comes to parentage #and Jaskier did all the things right where it counts #He's loving he's emotional open he communicates - but would Jaskier always be a reliable parent? a structured one? an easily available one? #I don't think so #professor Jaskier can work for hours on end and forget to get you on time from your play date so you have to awkwardly wait and #he forgets to cook and to wash and it's always messy and once he writes he writes and gets annoyed when interrupted #but he also tells bedtime stories and stays at your bedside when you're ill and plays with you when you moved AGAIN and have no friends yet #he's easily pulled into arguments but also knows how to apologise #but he lies again and again #and he tells heroic and brave and honourable stories about your dad but still has a chest with your unsend letters and looks so so sad #when you put another one in his hands #and he never tells you to stop but doesn't send them and you know your Papa would be too kind to ask you to stop #ALSO #I think the kid is old enough to understand some of the inherent consent issues that are rampant in omegaverse #and while I imagined that 'verse here a bit tuned down #I think that the kid has seen and heard some shit! and what if Jaskier in only talking kindly of Geralt to soften the blow for him and- #kid is 100% ready to break Geralts nose if it turned out that he forced himself on his pa #(which he did not ofc but nobody communicates here)

[pangur-and-grim]

Greer how do you go about your writing process? I've always been amazed how seemingly fast you wrote the book you're trying to publish.

I've been trying to write a book passively on and off for like 6 years and I couldn't decide how I wanted the last 1/3rd to go so I haven't been able to write anything at all without cringing and erasing everything

just write self-indulgent garbage slop and then clean it up later. don't fear the cringe, let it be your shepherd!

for real though, what I did was commit to writing at least 2k words a day, and then stick to it until the book ended. the first draft took less than a month to finish (and then kept I going and finished the first draft of the sequel too)

but don't be deceived, the subsequent revisions to EBHTCATT took 10 months of teeth-grinding labour. I ended up adding 6 chapters, and then completely scrapping and rewriting my opening chapters based off my own intuition + feedback from beta readers + feedback from literary agents. and the line editing was so torturous. altogether, it took almost a year before the book felt finished.

#I'm going to write another book this summer that's unrelated 👀 #just need to plan ahead and designate a month to go apeshit again #good luck with yours though! the cringe is probably just a sign that you're being vulnerable #and writing something you feel strongly about #if I took out the stuff in my book that made me cringe it would be completely gutted of all sincerity

[hcdragonwrites]

Cozy (a @jttw-monkeybusiness Drabble )

So I made another one- this one was inspired by this ask (I suck at Hyperlinks I’m so sorry)

It rolled a bit in my brain and kept begging to be fleshed out, so I decided to give it life ! Enjoy!

Snow

Snow fell in white flurries, chasing away the blossoms and birds that had been sitting in the trees just moments before. The storm was in a full frenzy now, peeling petals from overeager trees who had budded too soon, and throwing the birds from the sky. The wind whipped up the cold powder to spray back in the face of the pilgrims as they continued on their journey. They had left the warm subtropical forest only hours ago, where Sophie had rolled her sleeves up to relieve some of the excess heat. Now however, she was shivering.

None of the group, save for Wukong, was truly equipped for the snow and cold. Pigsys ears were turning purple from the temperature as he tried, and failed, to hide from the worst of it behind Sandy. Sandy silently continued on, carving a path for Sophie (who trailed farther behind) to walk through. The snow was already deep, coming to her knees as they continued to follow the tiny path up the mountain. Black rock jutted upward and outward like broken teeth into the white air. Horse and Monk both were struggling ahead, Yulongs sides shivering in the wet as the snow melted on his fur. Tripitaka called Wukong over, asking him to scout ahead to look for a place they could shelter for the duration of this storm. Sophie could see there heads bent together as Master and pupil discussed. Wukong, for once, didn’t reply with a snort or a quick jab at how Trip should be lucky for him to be his disciple. Instead he had somersaulted off, gone in a flash of fur and tiger stripes, into the air.

“Would be nice if I could just somersault out of here.” Sophie muttered.

A freak blizzard had not been on the list of things Sophie was ready for. She had faced shape-changing demons, women that turned to great tigers to devour Tripitaka, mountain gods throwing stones down into their path and the like. Sophie was prepared for any person or creature - or at least- expecting it. The weather however? She was severely underprepared for. She had the travel clothes she had bought with the coin purse she’d been given. They were meant for light rain and mild heat. Not for a snowstorm. Sophies hair was getting wet and the cold was starting to chill her ears from where it melted.

“It’s so cold…” she muttered. She kept following Sandys footpath, thankful for the giant of a river demon and his slow shuffling walk. If he was walking normally he would have left her far behind in the snow.

Her foot hit a rock and slipped, sending her flailing into a rapidly growing snowbank. “F-f-f-freezing! AH!” Snow had gone down her shirt, sending a chill up her spine. Faster than a wildcat she had hopped from the bank, shaking herself.

“Hate snow hate snow hate snow—“ she chanted her mantra as she slapped off the powder, trying to prevent it from melting and wetting her clothes. Wet clothes would only spell disaster. Sophie could recall all the cold born illnesses from one special National Geographic did on Everest and the extreme exposure the hikers faced there: pneumonia, Trench foot, frostbite, hypothermia, flu, Chilblains, bronchitis —

Her foot slipped again as her mind was listing all the things that could happen. Sophie would have been in the snowbank a second time except something caught her by the midriff and hauled her up.

“Stupid women stay on your feet!” Wukong snarled in her ear, setting her down. Sophie nodded, teeth chattering and nose turning red as the cold began to chap it. “Of all the people here I thought at least you had the common sense to be aware of ice!”

From up ahead came the faint cry and heavy fall as Pigsys fell face first in the snow. Sandy had to quickly turn to hid a chuckle as the drenched demon began wilding swinging his rake around in rage.

“S-s-sorry.” She mumbled, shoving her hands beneath her armpits. “Slipped.”

“What’s wrong with your speech? You sound like a squirrel.” Wukong cocked his head, an eyebrow raised. He rolled his eyes when Sophie didn’t banter back irritated she wasn’t snapping back at him. That agitation grew when he felt something like worry begin to itch his pelt. Of the pilgrims, the two mortals were in his charge of care and were the most delicate. While Wukong could fight off monsters and Demons and wicked minded mortals he could not fight a storm. Well- he could if he really wanted to find the celestial body responsible for its creation. But that would take time- and time was not on his side on this.

Tripitaka had put on a brave face when he had asked the Monkey King to find shelter. That didn’t mean Wukong had not noticed how his Masters hands had turned red at the growing cold, how his body shivered and his nose sniffed. Wukong would have teased, poked and prodded at his master- it was his nature to rile and cause mischief. But when he had seen the half awake expression on the mortal man’s face, Wukong had bit his tongue (with great effort) and had instead nodded.

Seeing Sophie in a similar state made the itch beneath his pelt grow worse as fire ants had begun to bite his skin.

“Damn it.” He cursed beneath his breath. He snatched her arm, avoiding her hand, and started dragging her behind him. “Come on just a bit farther you softie. I found a cave up ahead where we can get out of the worst of it. You mortals are ABSOLUTELY worthless when it comes to weather —“

Sophie was only half listening to Wukongs ranting. She allowed herself to be dragged up the mountain pass, trusting the Monkey King to find a better route than her own dimming senses. The cold was like a blanket she wanted to escape out of. Or escape into? She couldn’t remember clearly. If she closed her eyes… she was so tired. The snow looked inviting, comforting. Like the best downy comforter. Like the fluffiest pillow.

Maybe I just … need to lay … down in the comfort. Just close my eyes for a few minutes.

They had been walking for hours before the storm blew in. Her feet hurt, her hands shook and it was so cold. Cold. She just wanted to sleep.

“SOPHIE LOOK AT ME!” Wukong yanked her and she was rattled enough to open her eyes wider in surprise. Sun Wukong was right in her face, leaning so close she could see every line of his facial markings in detail. His breath came from between his teeth like some dragons as he glared.

“Ye-es?!”

“Stay awake- we're almost there. If you fall asleep while I’m dragging your ass up the mountain I will bite your pretty nose clean off!” The demonic monkey spat, then, half carried, half dragged Sophie the rest of the way. Leaning against his back Sophie sighed. Through the clothing she could feel it- like desert sand warmed by the sun. Delicious heat. Sophie - who wouldn’t in normal circumstances have cuddled so close- practically melted against the warmth. What else could she do? Wukong was dragging her up the mountain- practically carrying her. She could see the bend in the mountain pass- a steep cliff where the road cut itself around and hugged the mountain as a snake would do climbing along a vine. Almost there.

“How come you get to be so warm?” She grumbled, not realizing she had said it aloud. Wukong had heard however, and his face became a storm cloud as his heart took a shuddering beat.

“Maybe grow some fur or ask for the Buddha to make you some furry creature. Bet he would too.” Wukong grumbled back.

Stupid fucking women.

They reached the curve in the mountain where Pigsy and Sandy- mostly Sandy since the pig demon kept complaining about how cold his snout was- were setting up three tents. The tents were simple, the leather treated against wet weather and solid. All pigsy had to do was drive the stakes into the stone which, it seemed, he was failing at.

“It’s so damn cold!” Pigsy snorted angrily stamping his hands together, having missed the spike for the third time. “Blasted Heaven and whoever ordered a storm now of all times! Don’t they know who’s crossing these mountains?”

“Less talking more working.” Sandy angrily chided. He had finished setting up the second tent all on his own. When Pigsy went to open his mouth to make another comment and the usually peaceful Sandy shoved him across the shallow cave to the last tent and the one closest to the entrance.

As Wukong walked past, Pigsy lifted an eyebrow at the strange sight. The Monkey King could see the pig beginning to lift a lip in a smirk only to stop when he noticed Sophie’s shivering.

“What did you do?” Those were the last words Wukong expected to come out of his fellow brothers mouth.

“WHAT DID I DO?!” He bared his teeth, fangs on display. He didn’t have time for Pigsy or for his own feelings to confuse him. He knew Sophie was practically clinging to his back like the newborn monkeys did to their mothers back on Flower Fruit Mountain. He was very aware of it. The last thing he needed was for this thick pink idiot to start shit with him.

“I DIDNT DO SHIT YOU THICK HEADED BOAR.” He spat, continuing past. “THIS IDIOT STARTED FALLING ASLEEP IN THE FUCKING STORM. NOW SHUT UP AND GET THE OTHER TENT SET UP.”

Wukong left Pigsy behind, angrily chattering to himself and feeling embarrassed all the while. He couldn’t let that thick womanizing boar know any of Wukongs feelings. If he did, the damn brute would only press his nose to it and route deeper. The sooner he got Sophie off his back the better. Even though he didn’t entirely want that.

He reached the back corner of the cave, setting Sophie down. She huffed, letting go with some reluctance to his warm back. The Monkey King knelt, leaning in. Sophie’s shivering was less. Good.

“I’ll be back- I have to make sure the pink ham doesn’t fuck up the last tent. Once I’ve tended Yulong and seen to my masters comforts I’ll be back to check on you.”

Sophie pulled her knees to her chest. She was still so cold. She wanted nothing more then to curl up and sleep- to find something warm and hold onto it. She heard Wukong from far off - but she nodded.

“S-S-sure… just gonna fall .. asleep.”

“Don’t fall asleep you idiot.” He snapped.

“Why not?” Sophie groaned. She was tired

“Remember. You are in wet clothes. Wake up just to remember - Think. Use that reading brain of yours.” He flicked her between the eyes. That woke Sophie up enough as the pain cleared her head.

“Ow, what the hell Wukong?!” Sophie felt like she had come out of a daze. Her fingers started rubbing at the pain. It wasn’t terrible but … she felt like a child be scolded. Sophie glared up into the smug monkey face.

“Awake? Good. Now fucking listen before you nod off again.” Wukong smirked just a bit. The itching beneath his fur had eased just enough upon seeing her get mad. He spoke slowly, for her sake but also to press in how much he enjoyed giving her orders- and being right about them. “Your clothes are wet. You can’t sleep in them. Change to new ones. In fact, bundle up as much as you can. I’ll be back to check on you.”

Wukong stood up, then turned back around to flick her on the forehead again.

“Ow! I’m up, I'm up!” Sophie rubbed at the space between her brows.

“Did you hear what I said?”

“Yes yes …” she uncurled herself and stood as well, looking down at the Monkey King. “Get out of wet clothes and get new ones. Bundle up. That really hurt you know.”

“If you are still in wet fucking clothes, I’ll do a lot worse then just smack you between the eyes.” And then he was away, already cussing Pigsy out who had, somehow, managed to rip the tent.

It was a only about twenty minutes later but Sophie had managed not to fall asleep. She had gotten into the tent and had peeled the worst of the wet clothes off. Her poor shoes were the worst for wear- the socks and the soles were soaked. She would have to wear her spare shoes tomorrow and let these ones dry. Sophie had set the wet clothes to the farthest side of the tent. She was now dressed in a pair of gray sweats, a long sleeve and her hoodie of bright orange with clementines decorating the front. She felt much warmer and absolutely exhausted. Her fingers were red where the cold had gotten them, her lips felt chapped from the dry air, and her body just kept shivering.

Sophie had retreated almost completely into the hoodie- only her face was viewable.

The tent flap lifted and Wukong stepped in, a bowl of some sort of wild berries and cold rice in one hand. He took one look at her huddled there on her sleeping mat and snorted.

“You look like some orange orangutan.”

“Hahah very funny. See how you like the cold when you don’t have fur.” She shot back. Wukong offered the bowl to her and she took it, digging into it with gusto.

“How’s Trip?” She asked between bites.

“Alive.” Wukong leaned back, putting his arms beneath his head as he stared up at the tent ceiling. “You two would have frozen if not for me- you were both starting to look pinker than yangmei fruit.”

“Thank you.” Sophie said.

“Mm? What are you thankful for ?”

Oh he was gonna ask her for all of it then? Sophie looked at him. Wukong had propped himself up enough to stare at her, waiting.

“Thank you for the food.” She lifted the now empty bowl- she had been famished - to him. “Thank you for finding a spot to rest. And … thanks for dragging me out of the snow.”

“You almost died I hope you know that.” He smirked, laying back down, eyes closing. She followed suit, too tired to sit up anymore or even bicker back with him.

“Yeah I did …” Sophie yawned. Usually she wouldn’t admit so readily to Wukong just how certain situations had made her dependent upon him. He was always, in some way or other, saving the lot of them. When Tripitaka was snatched up by some Goblins belonging to some chieftain of a nearby mountain, when Pigsy had boasted that they didn’t need Wukong and then (almost immediately) failed to find food when Wukong was sent away. He had stopped the dragon horse from foundering and taken to the care of his hooves and coat many a time. The Monkey King had seen to restoring the missing supplies from Sophie pack when a group of mischievous raccoon spirits had taken it. Wukong had even replaced Sandy’s teakettle when it was smashed in battle (Sophie was pretty sure he had stolen it).

He may act aloof and pompous but deep down, this big old brute cared for them. Even Pigsy.

Sophie felt her eyes grow heavy as Wukong kept talking about how she had stumbled in the snow like some “dumb struck fawn” until he came to help her.

As she relaxed to the sound of his voice rumbling on and on, it almost felt … cozy. Yes Wukong may like to slide the occasional wriggly salamander into her water skin, he may thumb through her things like they were his, he may call her idiot, stupid women, and softie. But. There was no real malice behind his actions.

He was also kind of … warm. She scooted closer, half listening to the Monkey ramble on about the idiocy of mortals and the greatness of beings such as him. He was rambling on about his natural prowess over mortals and how he had mastered the arts of immortality and Tripitaka couldn’t even master warding off a cold. Sophie fell asleep before he could get to the part about her looking like a slack jawed idiot in the snow.

Wukong was only a quarter way through his regaling of the story of how he had saved everyone this day when he felt hands wrap around his chest.

His heart nearly flew into his throat as he stopped dead in his speech. His mouth was open, voice cut off halfway through his speech. Sophie curled into his side, face buried in the crook of his neck and so close to his ear he could feel her breathing against its shell.

Electricity shot threw him, fur standing on end as if he had been in a thunderstorm.

He was suddenly very aware of many things. Of Sophie’s hands that had escaped that ridiculous orange sweatshirt and were now burrowed into his fur. One arm was across his chest. The second one was now, somehow beneath his head and tugging on his shoulder. Sophie’s face rested on his arm and in the curve of his neck, her face rubbing back and forth like a cat. As if … she was enjoying the feel of it.

Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck.

Sophie moved just a bit, mumbling in his ear and Wukong felt his tail lash like it had just been bit. She didn’t say anything coherent but — the proximity alone—

Fucking Hell and all its Judges.

Sophie was … cuddling him.

She was practically twined around him.

And she smelled fantastic. Her scent always changed- sometimes it held a hint of lemons and the sweetness of grass, other times it floated like rain clouds and smelled of stones. But all of it together had a larger perfume beneath it. It was just her. Yes there were moments when her scent changed just enough that he felt like he was adding new spices onto his favorite dish. The essence of it, however, was just Sophie.

And now that cloud was all around him, filling his nose.

He looked at her, turning his head just a fraction to see.

Big mistake.

She was asleep, passed out completely. She looked so … fragile asleep. The dark circles beneath her eyes spoke of how she hadn’t been sleeping well. Her nose was stupidly pink like a Red Pika in her pale face. The cold must have chapped it. His eyes darted to her lips …

Mistake number two.

Wukong looked away, feeling his face flame. Fuck. Shit. He was stuck in a predicament now. He hadn’t meant to chat away about himself for so long that Sophie would fall asleep. Wukong was at war with himself. On one hand, he needed to get out of here. To leave before Pigsy and the others found out- before Sophie found out.

He couldn’t let anyone be that close to him- couldn’t let anyone be as close as Sophie was right now. It was a liability to his pride, to his reputation—

To his heart. Because if she rejected him it would ruin the friendship they had. And the feeling he had building in his chest- he would crush it in his fist before he let it jeopardize that peace between them.

I have to leave —

Wukong tried to move-

Only to feel Sophie’s fingers tug in his fur and her sleepy voice grumble “m’no don’t go.”

Jade Emperor flay me and boil me alive again.

In all the hundreds of years of living, Wukong had only felt trapped like this but once before. The first time he had lost his wager to the Buddha, having been unable to somersault out of his hand. The second time? He was trapped because he allowed it. He was trapped in a way no one in Heaven could have predicted- or had thought to do. Wukong had been placed in vats to be boiled, had wormed and tricked his way out of every trap and net that had attempted to keep his mischief managed. It had taken Buddha and his wager to finally end Wukongs terrorization of Heaven.

Wukong couldn’t move now. He was tethered here by frail fingers and the steady beat of a mortal's heart.

He could hear her heartbeat, feel it against his side. It was steady, soft. Like the steady roar of Water-Curtain Cave. Like the wind through the trees of the orchards on his mountain.

She was mortal. One day that steady beat would stop as all mortal hearts did.

That set his tail to lashing just a bit.

Hasn't she been afraid of dying? Of growing old? He remembered hearing a conversation late at night- when Tripataka and Sophie had those rare mortal conversations where he was explicitly not allowed to sit in on. He hadn’t known why it was such a secret conversation. So of course, since it wasn’t an order, Wukong had pulled a hair from his tail and made a doppel and floated somewhere nearby but out of sight to eavesdrop. The Monk and Reader had been chatting about death, about Sophie’s future.

Well her fears were unfounded. Doesn’t she know I would take care of her? Sophie shifted a bit closer as a gust of wind slipped beneath the tent flat he had left unsecured. Damn it all. Wukong carefully, o so carefully, shifted himself. He slid his body so he was now lying on his side, setting Sophie’s head beneath his chin. It was all the invitation Sophie needed to cuddle closer and escape from the wind.

“You stupid women.” He angrily whispered into her hair. He wouldn’t let her die. He would just fix that. He would fix a lot of her problems. She just had to tell him. He was Sun Wukong, Great Sage Equal to Heaven. He knew of a hundred different ways to achieve immortality. He could fix them all. Like her problem right now of being cold.

He was too tense to relax fully- too aware- but he grew just a fraction larger. His size now dwarfed Sophie’s a good bit and gave her a bit more to tangle into. And she did. Sophie curled her knees up, shivering slowing. Wukong waited. Watching. When finally the shivering had ceased he allowed just a fraction of tension to slide off of him. This stupid softie is gonna make me soft. The thought didn’t bother him as much as it would have months ago.

Maybe he wouldn’t get much sleep tonight but…

He could make her life Hell in the morning. It was something that she owed him on. His face was screwed furiously into a scowl because all he wanted to do was enjoy this moment but if he did- if he really truly did- he didn’t know if he would be able to stop.

She was most assuredly going to be bombarded tomorrow with the most annoying and snappish teasing and toying a King of Monkeys and tricks could give.

Sophie woke with a start as something cold and wet slapped her in the face. She panicked as any person would.

“GaH! DEMON!” She cried, grabbing at her face and throwing it aside. It was a wet rag.

“Relax.” Wukongs voice laughed at her. “Unless cloth can become possessed and has gained a hunger for red nosed mortal flesh, you're fine.”

He was at the tent flap, grinning ear to ear in a grin that promised problems. Really so early in the morning and he already wants to play games ?

“You could have woken me up in a number of other ways- why did you pick that?” Sophie rubbed at her face, feeling … huh. She didn’t feel as sore as she usually felt. When Sophie woke up there was almost a constant crick of pain in her neck from whatever odd angle she had slept in on the ground.

Maybe I had been so tired my body just finally didn’t care.

He shrugged. “You stink. Next place we stop at you better demand a bath of some sort or other.”

“Thanks….” She grumbled, letting the sarcasm drip off her words. She took the cloth up, rubbing the sleep out of her face and the worst of the dirt off her face and arms. She would kill for a warm bath, one that would wake up her bones and chase the last of the cold from her body. Once clean, she checked her wet clothes, bundling them away in a separate part of her pack to avoid them dampening the rest of her stuff. Then she stepped out of the tent, smelling the fire and the promise of breakfast being made.

Only for her feet to slip right from beneath her as a monkey foot stuck out and caught her ankle.

“WUKONG!”

He laughed, face full of malicious mischief as Sophie gathered herself up to chase after the errant Monkey. To do what, she didn’t know. He was a mystical demonic creature born of stone and she just a mortal women. As the morning light cut into the cave and Tripitaka had to order his disciple to calm down after he once again tripped her and she almost went sprawling into rocks, the pilgrims ate breakfast. They broke down their tents. And they were once again on the road.

None were the wiser of Wukongs happier mood. He hid it beneath a storm of frowns and a game of teasing torture as he became partically insufferable to Sophie. The threat of the hoop tightening spell was the only true damper to his mood when Tripataka heard Sophie scream as snow was dropped down the back of her shirt.

As the sun rose higher and the word was cast in a frosty flash of refracted gold, Wukong made a decision. He would solve Sophie problem of growing old. It was easy. And if Buddha couldn’t send her back…

Well she was a great sport for pestering and heckling. The least he could do as a benevolent King is give the poor women a roof over her head.

Maybe a few dresses down the line...

Girls liked dresses right?

“Hey Reader!” He called.

“What?”

“Dresses or suits ? What did you wear in that fake time long after this one ? Or whatever fake dimension you fell out of. What did you prefer ?”

And thus began the long hour debate that somehow pulled every one of them: Pigsy, Sandy and Tripitaka, into what was a heated discussion on the best attire for the best occasions.

#hcwrites #writing stuff #I DID ANOTHER ONE #thank you little anon for mentioning a cold snuggle scenario #I love when there’s cuddles even if one party doesn’t know or remember and the other is both ecstatic and pissed the fuck off about it #I Hope i wrote them well #the formatting took me longer then I thought #for jttw monkeybuisness #Sophie #Sophie and Wukong #sun wukong x reader #jttw sun wukong #jttw reader #jttw fanfic #I gave Sophie an orange hoodie because she already has a ‘magical’ peach kawaii cup. #make all her things fruit related #just writing the scene where Wukong walks back into the tent and has to pause because Sophie had turned into an orange made me laugh #I Hope i got your boy down Kiri! #thank you again for letting me write for you #this was a welcome break from my 30 page spree #I listened to two songs - the first part was #with Tourner Dans Le Vide #the second part where they are in the tent was with Of Monsters and Men ‘Love’ #it helps to have a song hook you into writing because then you can follow the feeling of it and stay focused #I mean- songs are like a tempo to keep pace with. #sun wukong #jttw au #I did look up all the snow born illnesses to be a bit accurate. #also that falling asleep bit in the snow ? yeah that almost happened to me as a kid. it only took ten minutes - be wary of snow and cold #hcfanfics

[exdeputysonso]

Blue Velvet (1986) Press Photos

#brad dourif #blue velvet #my scans #writing something unholy in the tags before regaining a bit of my sanity and backspacing #sorry raymond makes me an extra special kind of insane <3 #p.s. again cropping so they look nice in a tumblr post but i always have the full scan for anyone who cares #half the stuff is out there already anyways just scanning in for nicer quality