is that a dead something in the snow though


Description: Simon and Baz keep journals. 

Words: 1246

For @bloodredblossoms611 who prompted me to write this. (Thank you, it was so much fun to write).

Pining, and some angst. But a very happy ending. I hope everyone likes it! 

September 1st, 2008

T. Basilton Grimm Pitch

I’m only keeping this journal so I can tell my step mum I’m doing it, she thinks that it’ll help me work through my issues. Ha, issues, is that what we’re calling it now?

My roommate is an insufferable drag, the bloody chosen one. He doesn’t look like a chosen one, he doesn’t look like anyone would choose him. My father insists that it’s a good thing, that I have to keep an eye on the Mage’s heir, I don’t know how I’m going to survive.

September 1st, 2008


The mage thinks I should keep a journal, he thinks it’ll help me with my words. I don’t think I can be helped with my words.

I think my roommate is evil, he’s a Grimm-Pitch, and the Mage tells me that both those families are evil, so how can he not be? He stares at me a lot, he’s probably trying to figure out the neatest way to kill me. He’s a bloody clean-freak.

September 1st, 2009


I’m back at Watford, I can hardly believe it. I’d started to think that I made it up, that I would never have someplace to call home. I cried a lot, Baz came in and made fun of me. He’s such an arse, always acting like he’s the most important person in the room. Maybe the mage will let me switch this year.

September 1st, 2009

T. Basilton Grimm-Pitch

I came into the room to find Snow crying, he’s such a pathetic excuse for a chosen one. He even invaded my summer, I couldn’t even bloody think of anything else. Simon Snow demands attention, he’s like an elephant stumbling around and destroying everything he touches.

September 1st, 2012

T. Basilton Grimm-Pitch

I can’t believe I still keep a diary, like a bloody preteen girl. I only do it because Daphne somehow knows when I stop.  

Snow is unbearable, it’s just the first day of term and he hasn’t left me alone. Just stared at me, all day. He is no friend to subtlety, doesn’t even try to hide it, what kind of hero is he?

September 1st, 2012


Baz is up to something, even more so than usual, I’m going to find out what it is. I figure if I never leave him alone he can never do whatever it is that he does. I’m going to figure out what he’s plotting, the old families probably finally decided it was time to get rid of me. I get it now, why I have to be his roommate, I have to keep an eye one him.

October 12th, 2012

T. Basilton Grimm-Pitch

Snow never leaves me alone, I can’t even get 15 minutes to shower without him thinking I’m setting up some elaborate trap. I wish I could bite him, turn him and finally make him feel like I do. Like a villain. My life is fucked up enough without Snow stalking me constantly.

October 20th, 2012


Baz goes into the catacombs constantly, I’m not sure what he’s doing down there but I doubt it’s something that’s good for me or the Mage or non-evil people in general. I found dead rats, but I don’t know what he’s doing with them. I spend all my time following him, Penny’s starting to get irritated.

December 18th, 2012

T. Basilton Grimm-Pitch

We’re home for Christmas break, and I still feel like I’m going to round a corner and find Snow staring at me. Bloody Snow, I can never be rid of him. He’s probably at the Wellbelove’s, snogging Agatha and pretending to be a happy family. The thought bothers me, it scratches at my stomach. I shouldn’t care, though, Snow is just my stupid roommate. Not my friend, or-

December 19th, 2012

T. Basilton Grimm-Pitch

It’s unbearably early, something I should not be saying on break when Snow’s not here to wake me up with his stumbling. But I had a dream, about Simon. He kissed me, and it was nice, and I didn’t want to bite him (well, not that way). God, this can’t be happening, Snow is unbearable. I hate Snow, more importantly, Snow hates me.

January 3rd, 2012.

T. Basilton Grimm-Place

As if my life wasn’t shit enough without adding ‘in love with his enemy’ to the mix. The term started today, and it’s much worse seeing him, having him be there. I don’t how to act normal, but I’m trying, Not like it matters, Snow will just assume that I’m plotting another way to make his life miserable.

January 3rd, 2012


Baz is acting strange, for once in his life he hasn’t taken every possible opportunity to make my life miserable. He’s just quiet, I caught him staring at me. Maybe he figures he can lull me into a false sense of security and then strike.

March 15th, 2012

T. Basilton Grimm-Pitch

I don’t know what I’m going to do. Snow won’t leave me alone for one second to try to sort out these feelings. Every time I see him (in class, or our room, or trailing me in the catacombs), I just want to kiss him or bite him. That’s when I’m at my worst, when he’s following me and we’re alone and it would just be so easy to end this, one way or another. I don’t think I’m going to survive.

October 28, 2015

T. Basilton Grimm-Pitch

I feel tired, the Numpties took everything out of me, everything usually reserved for dealing with Snow. I can’t deny that it’s nice, that despite all the pain it causes me it’s nice to see him. He was what I held onto when I felt myself slipping away. He looks at me like I’m about to explode. Even now he keeps glancing up at me over his homework like I’m going to pounce on him (which, maybe I am).

October 28, 2015


Baz is back, I don’t know how to react. He looks hurt, who could have hurt him? Maybe it was some kind of rite of passage, maybe he’s finally ready to take me out. I should tell him about his mom, or I should look through his stuff to find out where he’s been. I don’t know what I’m going to do.

October 29th, 2015


I did it, went through his stuff I mean. And I found something, a diary. I read something, and I’m just not sure how to react. I don’t know what’s happening, I just don’t know how to feel about this.

October 29th, 2015

T. Basilton Grimm-Pitch

Snow is acting weird, even more than usual. I think he’s avoiding me, not looking me in the eye. And then he even smiled at me, I’m not sure what I’m supposed to do. But I sure a hell am not letting him suck me into whatever weird drama is going on in his life. I won’t let him do that to me, not now.

October 30th, 2015


Simon kissed me, he kissed me until my lips were numb, he kissed me all night. I kissed him, I kissed Simon Snow. Simon Snow kissed me, I feel like I’m dreaming, and maybe I am. He kissed me and I can’t even find it in myself to be angry that he went through my stuff.

Wow Baz, you really like to write about me.

Shut up, Snow, and stop reading my journal.


I swear to God Snow.

Your Move

The nine times Simon and Baz prank each other and the one time they don’t

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10

March 27


My palm is still raw from wrenching it off of the doorknob.  My phone was on my bed, too far away for me to reach, so I couldn’t even call for help.  I was left to grit my teeth and peel my skin off the metal bit by bit.  Then I had to use about five cleaning spells to get all the glue off the doorknob.  It was ridiculous.

           I use my left hand to sift through the books on the shelf I’m scanning.  My right hand is still bandaged around the palm.  I can wiggle my fingers, or hold a pencil, but it still hurts, so I move my hand as little as possible, letting it become stiff in its cocoon of bandages.


           I turn to find Agatha peering into my aisle, a quizzical look on her face.  Even when her eyebrows furrow her features remain smooth, like no matter what configuration she pulls them into, that’s exactly where they’re meant to be.

           “Hey Agatha,” I give her a half-smile, inching a book off the shelf little by little with my free hand.  I make a mental note to practice operating left-handed, in case anything worse ever happened to my right hand again.

           “What are you doing here?” she asks, drawing nearer.

           “This is the library.”

           “I know that,” she says, “but what are you doing here?  This is the curses section.”

           “Looking for curses.”

           “Who are you planning to curse?”

           I clench my jaw.  “Who do you think?”

           She nods knowingly.  “What did he do this time?”

           “He super-glued my hand to the bathroom door.”

           “And what did you do to deserve it?”

           I shoot her a raised eyebrow and she shrugs. “Penelope told me about your prank war,” she explains.

           “I tied his wand up in my cross necklace.”

           Agatha just nods, not admonishing my actions like I’d thought she would.  “So you’re going to curse him?”

           I open the book I’m holding to the middle, throwing a glance over the words but not registering a thing.  “That’s the idea.”

           Agatha peers at the book’s title.  “Curse First: A Guide to Harmless Cursing,” she reads aloud.

           “I don’t want to actually hurt him, just give him something to think about,” I say, flipping through a few pages but not seeing anything to catch my eye.

           “Have you tried psychological?”


           “From what I understand, all of your pranks so far have been physical,” Agatha replies.  “You’ve both attacked the body, so why don’t you try the mind?”

           I hold her gaze, weighing the idea.  “How would I do that?”

           “Unwanted thoughts can be maddening,” she tells me, her eyes cool and clear.  “If you can make the brain your weapon, you’ll have won.”


I take out the book and spend the next few hours poring over it in a far corner of the library. Every footfall has me looking up to see who’s there, to make sure Baz doesn’t find me studying up.  Even if I weren’t searching for spells to bring him down, I can’t concentrate when he’s around anyway.

           Returning to the room much later isn’t nearly as terrifying as it was last night.  I suppose it’s possible that he could break the rules and pull something out of turn, but somehow I know that he won’t.  His last move was strong enough that he’ll give me time to retaliate.

           I wonder how he’ll react if he doesn’t know I’ve made my move.

           I’m lucky tonight, he doesn’t go out gallivanting who-knows-where for a change, meaning I don’t have to wait as long.  I repeat the lines I’ve written to myself as I get ready for bed, ignoring the fluttering of my heart.  Curses tend to bring on spurts of adrenaline, which makes them harder to control.  If I can’t pull this off tonight, I’ll have missed my turn.

           When I emerge from the bathroom, Baz has already turned out the lights and climbed into bed.  He’s facing away from me, but I can be sure he’s not asleep yet.  So I pull back the covers on my bed, crawl in, and check to make sure the notepaper with my curse scribbled on it is still in my pocket.  Then I settle down to wait.

           Falling asleep is always easier when you need to stay awake.  Before long, my eyes are burning from holding them open.  The lines of my curse repeat and mingle in my head as sleep threatens to take over.

           Just a little longer, I tell myself, then I can rest easy.

           My eyelids slide closed involuntarily, and I blink hard to force them back open.

           I strain my ears, listening to every sound I can pick out.

           Baz breathes long and deep.


           Quietly I push myself up and peer over at Baz.  I can’t see his eyes, but the sheets rise and fall slowly.  Throwing back the covers and grabbing my wand from under my pillow (which is where I’ve started to keep it at night, just in case), I tiptoe across to his bed and squint to see his eyes in the dark.  They’re closed, and for a change his brow is light, smooth, like a boy instead of a monster.


           I send out a quick prayer that he won’t wake up while I’m casting, and then I bring the wand low over his face.

“Deep sleep, crawl and creep,

From him sweet peacefulness keep,

Turn his dreams to nightmares foul,

Eerie fog and hoot of owl,

Dark, unpleasant, not for fear,

But to keep in misery,

Do not wake for terror’s cries,

Lest you flee his sleeping eyes.”

           By the time I’m done casting, my wand hand is cramping up in its bandages, and I have to force the last sparks of magic out. Baz gives a long sigh in his sleep, and his brow comes together slightly.  Something has worked.

           I return to my bed as my heart slows back to a normal rate.  Sliding my wand into its place under my pillow, my eyes fall shut faster than I can lie down.


           Baz is a silent sleeper.  He doesn’t snore, doesn’t mumble or toss and turn, doesn’t shout nonsensical phrases.  Sleeping with Baz in the room is like sleeping with a dead thing in the room. Ironic, if I’m right about the vampire thing.

           So when I wake up a little later to the sound of his sheets rustling furiously, I know something is wrong.

           I sit up to see his bed in a flurry of motion as he tosses from one side to the other.  I can’t see his face as he moves, but his breathing is short and heavy like he’s running from something.

           Clearly the curse has worked.  A little too well, by the looks of it.

           It’s harmless, I tell myself as I sink back down into my pillow, trying to ignore the commotion.  He’ll stop in a moment.

           Then the whimpering starts.

           I don’t think I’ve ever heard Baz make such a helpless sound.  It’s so quiet at first that I can’t even be sure I heard anything, but then it happens again and I’m certain.  He keeps tossing and turning, but now it’s vocal.

           He must be having a really bad dream.

           Which doesn’t make much sense.  The curse was only meant to conjure minor nightmares, things like falling, bugs, public humiliation.  Just enough to give the person a restless night’s sleep.

           Somewhere along the way, though, something must have gone wrong with my casting of the curse.

           Because Baz’s whimpers are becoming words, mumbled and then clear as day.

           When he blurts out the word “no”, it’s generic enough that I’m not overly worried, but then he’s saying things like “run” and “please”.  At the word “mother”, which he says louder than before, I flinch.  I don’t know much about Baz’s mum, but I know she’s long dead, and I know he was there, and old enough to remember for the rest of his life.

           I bolt upright when he says my name.

           Because he doesn’t say “Snow”.  He says “Simon”.

           I don’t think I’ve ever heard him call me “Simon” before now.

           I suppose we’re fighting in his nightmare, but there’s something about how he says my name.  It’s not angry or defiant, or even gloating.  It’s afraid, it’s pleading, it’s tearful.

           I shake my head and lie back down, trying to erase the memory.  What is it they say?  Most dreams only last a few seconds in real life even though they feel really long? Whatever Baz is dreaming, it will be over soon.  I pull my blankets closer over my ears to block him out, even though it doesn’t work. I can still hear him.

           It’ll pass.


           It’ll pass.


           It’ll pass.


           It’s not passing.

           I jump out of bed and run to him.  He’s clutching the sheets to his face like he’s trying to hide in them, and I still can’t see his features for the frantic shaking of his head.  Just as I reach him he gives a wordless cry, and I throw my misgivings to the wind.

           “Baz,” I say as calmly as I can, grabbing him by the shoulders, but he just swats at me in a new panic.  This time I shout.  “Baz!”

           He sits up like he’s been shot from a cannon, gasping and panting and looking around in terror.

           “It’s me,” I tell him, still gripping his shoulders. “You’re alright, it’s just me.”

           When his eyes meet mine they’re wild and dark, and heavy with tears.  I see the few seconds it takes for him to recognize me, and then the relief that floods into them as I brush a lock of his hair back from his face with my fingers, not even thinking about the tenderness of the gesture.

           “It was just a nightmare,” I say steadily, my voice low with sleep, and I can see it grounding him.  “Take a deep breath.”

           He tries, but instead I feel his shoulder start to shake as he comes down from the panic.  The tears spill over from his eyes and he looks away from me, back down at his lap.

           Have I ever seen him cry?  Maybe, but never like this.

           This is my fault.

           Suddenly I want nothing more than to fall onto his bed and hold him through his tears, to rub his back slowly and ride out the terror with him. “Baz…”

           “Just go back to bed,” he manages without looking at me, and for a moment I wonder if he knows what I’ve done.

           Walking away from him is like pulling a magnet away from its counterpart.  It aches in places I’ve never ached and it tastes like copper in my mouth.

           I climb back into bed and the feeling hasn’t faded.  It’s just as strong and just as scary.

           I’m so sorry, Baz.

           Some perverse voice in my brain tells me to drop the “your move” line, but the thought is so appalling that it makes my stomach hurt.

           I say nothing.  I make no further move to comfort him, even though every bone in my body is screaming at me to do it.

           I just lie there as he sobs quietly.

           My eyes fill with my own tears more than once before we both calm down enough to fall into a deep, exhausted sleep.

The Stars We Sew (Pt 1)

Okay so I’ve been wanting to do a multi chapter ToG and ACOTAR crossover for a while, and I also want Rhys’ sister not to be dead (even though that’s not gonna happen) so yeah, here this is. If it’s something people seem to like, I’ll definitely be continuing it! 


She was fourteen. 

The air bit at her cheeks as she and her mother landed just left of a snow drift, and Kosmina tugged irritably at the layers upon layers she’d been bundled into. She was just starting to grow an interest for clothing. Mor was the largest influence on this newfound annoyance with anything bulky and unflattering, but the fact that flying was harder with so many layers was influence as well. So Mina pulled at her shawl, nose wrinkled, and her mother laughed softly beside her. 

“Do you think Az and Cass will come to meet us, too?” Mina asked. 

Her mother hummed. “Oh, I don’t know, maybe they’ve forgotten all about us,” she said in a teasing tone. 

“Of course they haven’t forgotten us! I’m spectacular.” That elicited another laugh from the Lady of the Night Court as they headed towards shallower snow. They could have winnowed straight to Rhysand, but why would they ever do that when they could fly straight to the mountains? It wasn’t as if they were in any danger. Illyrian camps dotted every peak. Still, Father had insisted they bring a few guards with them. They lingered on the edges of the woods, looking bored already. Because who on earth would ever cross the High Lord of Night in his own territory? 

The answer was three figures. 

Mina assumed it was her brothers making their way towards her, but that was only for a split instance before she faltered. Where were their wings? She pushed a black lock away from her face, squinted. The first face appeared, and she only had a moment to comprehend that it was Tamlin-Tamlin?- pale faced and nervous behind his two older brothers before their Night Court guards were dead on the ground and the High Lord of Spring stood over them. 

She’d only seen him a few times; Tamlin got his hair from his mother, but the rest was of this male, carved granite features, cruel perfection. Before, she had not seen anything cruel in Tamlin’s face. He wasn’t her friend, but he was Rhys’s, so she had assumed he must have plenty of wonderful qualities she hadn’t seen. And he’d seemed nice enough. But not now. Not when he just stood there as the rest of his family circled her and her mother like vultures. 

The High Lord spared a glance around. “Rhysand isn’t here. How disappointing." 

But he will be, Kosmina thought. We are just early and he is late. He is coming, and he’ll rip a couple of you to shreds while I take the others. She believed this, with every fiber of her being. Because she and her mother both did not know that Rhys wasn’t aware they were still coming.

The eldest brother, Ercan, was the most cruel, and he settled his gaze upon her, sneering, "Let’s just use them as an example, father.” Tias, the middle child, immediately agreed, and deep within Mina’s bravado as she tilted her chin up at them, was fear, growing with every second. Her mother tucked her into her side. 

The High Lord only pretended to think before he replied, “What an excellent idea." 

There were three pairs of lips that chorused, "no,”- Mina, her mother, and Tamlin. But whereas the two females fought and continued to beg and plead, Tamlin only stood there. Terrified, as if it were his own life on the line. 

Cassian was supposed to teach her how to be strong soon, how to defend herself, so she had to survive this, had to get free and fly off. She’d even forgive herself if she had to be saved this time, because she’d make up for it by learning how to save herself. She and her mother had to survive. Ercan pushed her to the ground as if dealing with a well armed, muscled brute, and not a young girl who shrieked in pain as he grabbed her by the hair and dragged her deeper within the trees, where anyone flying by would have bigger difficulty in spotting her. 

It took both the High Lord and Tias to wrangle her mother after them. She kicked and bit and punched, flaring her wings out to try to shake them off. Mina tried to do the same, but Ercan only laughed in her face and clubbed her across the head before she could scream for one of her brothers, her father, anyone. Tamlin only trailed behind, still begging but not jumping into any kind of action. Her mother wasn’t even trying to beg anymore, and it was in that moment that Kosmina realized they were going to die. 

Her head was shoved into the snow, bits of rock biting into her cheek, and she openly sobbed, gritting her teeth, trying in vain to flare out her wings. “So weak,” Tias taunted them from somewhere to her right. “You would think that the High Lord would want the females of his family to have at least some idea how to defend themselves, given that they’re so hated." Hated. As if they’d ever done anything wrong. The word stung, but it had nothing on the cataclysm that the High Lord of Spring dropped next. 

"I want their wings." 

That sent Mina into a frenzy all over again. Her wings were not some prize to hang up like a hunting trophy, not a simple knick knack for some High Fae to hang up in his mansion. This was not some grand retelling of the knights in shining armor taking down the beast. She and her mother were not beasts. They were unarmed, innocent females who were about to be murdered. 

Hands spread her wings out, and she continued to thrash, continued to beg. "Tamlin,” she said. “Tamlin please-” A blow to the back of her head had the air spilling from her lungs, leaving her trembling and gasping as the blonde looked to his family. 

“Father,” Tamlin tried. “Don’t do this." 

There were some other hissed words that Kosmina could not make out, but whatever he said, it was enough to keep Tamlin quiet. It was enough to have him holding her mother’s arms down as the High Lord prepared his blade. There was the sound of metal whistling through air, a hacking noise, and then her mother was screaming. She screamed too, because they were cutting off her mother's wings, were going to do the same to her, and then they were going to kill them both. 

She heard the squelch, knew that was her mother’s wing sliding to the ground, attached only by a few tendons. Mina lifted her head to the side just enough to puke all over the snow. Ercan sneered, shoved her face into her own bile, and that’s when she felt the blade just graze her wing. 

She was only fourteen when they sawed off her wings and she was forever banished from the sky. 

They were alive, but not for long. She knew just from the way the Lord and his evil sons laughed that they would be dead within five minutes. But then her mother reached out a shaking hand, as if to touch her one last time. That is not what happened. Mina’s body seemed to flutter, chest contracting. Was she winnowing, or simply hallucinating as she died? What was this? She flickered, again and again until she went completely transparent, Ercan’s hand going through her head as if she were made of air. 

All around her, the males barked, but she couldn’t find the energy to lift her head. She couldn’t even focus on what her mother was screaming to her between sobs. All there was was pain and the sense that she was floating. Time seemed to blink, a brief, unfathomable moment when she could see nothing, couldn’t even remember who or what she was. But it resumed. 

And then Kosmina was falling. 

Her knees hit the ground first, followed by her entire body, and she found herself in a similar position; bleeding to death in the snow. There were alarmed male murmurs, though when she glanced to the side, her mother wasn’t there. There wasn’t even blood on the ground. Mina must have blacked out while they’d disposed of her, and now they were back to finish the job. A hand touched her shoulder. She was too tired to scream. 

"The blood’s coming from her back.” The voice was rough, nothing like the leering of the High Lord and his two older sons or the soft pleading of spineless Tamlin. “If you don’t shut up with your worrying, she’ll bleed out, Gavriel." 

"I’m trying to find the origin of the damage, Lorcan,” a second voice replied, soft and surprisingly patient. He was closer, must have been the one with his hand on her. It was removed, and she whimpered. “It’s alright. You’re going to be alright." 

"Most likely,” the first voice corrected, and Mina thought that the second male might have turned to glare at the first. “There’s no use in getting her hopes completely up." 

Had Illyrians found her? Had they taken her mother to safety? Had they made the High Lord pay for what he and his sons had done to them?

My wings. They took my wings. 

A warmth sprouted at her back, spreading out across her shoulder blades and up and down her spine. She froze, because it felt… it felt like flesh was being added back to bone, like blood was returning to her body. "You’re alright,” that soft second voice said again. They would take her home. They’d take her to Rhys, and her mother, who was hopefully already healing. With that in mind, Kosmina let her eyes slide back closed. The darkness welcomed her. 


Bayard, High Lord of the Spring Court, stared in astonishment at the spot where the bitch daughter had just disappeared. His sons and Eolande, Lady of the Night Court stared as well. Eolande’s face was scrunched in pain, her face covered in sweat, but there was relief and triumph in her eyes as she stared at the puddle of blood on the snow covered ground, the only sign that her daughter had ever been there. He would have no triumph on the bitch’s face. 

“Where did you send her?” Bayard spat, looming over her. For good measure, he slapped her, sending spit and blood across her face. 

“I don’t know,” Eolande rasped. “I don’t know if it was even me who sent her. But I do know you’ll never find her. You never will.” And she began to laugh. 

The laughter was silenced quickly by a knife through her temple. 

Bayard turned to his sons, two of which were scowling, one who was now puking into the snow like the weakling he was. “You tell no one that the bitch got away,” he told them. He knew both Rhysand and his father adored Kosmina, knew they needed to think her dead. “She’ll be dead soon anyways, wherever she is.” Tias and Ercan nodded firmly, but it was to Tamlin that Bayard turned. He leaned in close. “You will tell no one." 

Tamlin staggered to his feet and wiped his mouth, and after a moment, he met his father’s eyes, face pale, lips wan. Reluctantly, he nodded. Satisfied, because his youngest son was too much a coward to ever go against his orders, he signaled Tias and Ercan, then grabbed Tamlin’s arm. 

They winnowed, leaving Eolande dead in the forest, a puddle of her daughter’s blood next to her corpse. 

Mastermind | Danganronpa AU Fanfiction

This is a fanfiction for Danganronpa based on an AU that I fell in love with. Basically, what if the Mastermind behind Hope’s Peak wasn’t the real Mastermind at all?

This is over 48 hours and over 6,000 words for nothing other than my own amusement, because I like challenging my writing skills sometimes, but I figured other people would get some enjoyment out of it, too.

**WARNING** This short story contains major spoilers for the show Danganronpa! If you haven’t seen it, or even haven’t finished the last episode itself, please be aware that this will spoil it for you. Like, the first word is a spoiler here. And it also has spoilers in the tags, so be careful. It’s like a minefield in here.

Also, this AU is not mine. This is only my opinion of how it would go if this AU had really happened. I would credit the creator, but I can’t find the original source of this AU. If any of you know, please share with me so I can credit them. I also had to change a tiny bit of the wording in some of the parts from the animation, where I got the beginning dialog from, because it was actually pretty dang hard to understand what was being said in a couple of parts, and who knows, maybe the entire sentence was different in the subbed verison.

This story also has a mature rating for mature themes such as language and violence. It does not contain depictions of sexual content. If any of these things bother you, please don’t read on. I just don’t want anybody who is uncomfortable with these themes to not know about it before they continue.

I’m sorry if this still has spelling mistakes or autocorrected words that don’t make sense, I’m trying to fix everything Wattpad messed up, so if there’s errors please don’t be shy to point them out so I can fix them!

Alright, let’s get this show on the road. 

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Winter (B.Barnes)


Bucky Barnes

Warnings: swearing, possible angst??, Bucky being a total creep

“I’m doing this to keep you safe.” Bucky repeats for the fifth time from the doorway, his eyes casted downwards, set with grief and determination. He watches as you nod slowly, pulling your knees to your chest to make room for him on the couch. 

Bucky never intended to hurt you, he always made it one of his missions to keep you out of harms way. After escaping HYDRA, Bucky was lost, unsure of how to navigate his own life without someone telling him what to do. He kept to himself, kept his apartment laced with multiple get away bags and ate more plums than he’d care to admit. He lead a simple life, trying to rid himself of his horrific past.

His simple life was turned upside down the day he heard a ruckus outside of his apartment door. He had peered out into the hallway through his peephole, his hand sporting a shiny black gun. And then, in that moment, James Barnes was completely and utterly ruined. His jaw became slack, his eye widening to get a better view and his hand released the gun, letting fall onto the floor. 

He had seen your smiling face, boxes piled up in your petite arms as you lugged them into the seemingly vacant apartment only a mere six feet from Bucky’s front door. He watched you intently that day, not leaving his perch as you and your sister packed the apartment full of boxes with different labels.

Bucky learned your schedule fairly quickly but in his defense the walls were paper thin. You woke up at 6 every morning, left to take a two hour run and returned with a cup of coffee and an apple. Then you’d shower, rustle around your kitchen for a bit before turning on the television.

He watched you come and go, his mind telling him that what he was doing was indeed the creepiest thing he had ever done, but a small part telling him that you were different, you were someone to be noticed.

So, Bucky listened to that small part of him and kept watch over you. He made sure to scope out any guys you brought to your apartment, kept a careful eye on your door whenever you left it open to run down and get your mail and always made sure to listen to the lock click every night.

That peephole had become Bucky’s best friend and had stayed that way for three months. Bucky thought he had a pretty solid system going for him, making sure to calculate his moves so he wouldn’t run into you and scare you off with his arm.

Bucky would awake at 6 right along with you, listening to the small sound of you feet padding over to your bathroom. He’d get his breakfast and coffee ready while he waited for you, then made his way to the door to make sure you left your house okay. He’d putter around for the two hours, checking and rechecking his guns, clean the three week old mac and cheese dish that he left in the sink or even attempt to figure out what to do with his hair. Then, he’d return to his perch and watch you make your way back into your apartment. 

It was a routine that gave Bucky a sense of authority, as if he was personally responsible for your safety. As if he was taking a weight off your shoulders by watching you like an absolute creep.

Bucky had prepared for essentially everything ranging from an attack from HYDRA to some douche bag refusing to leave you alone. He was fucking ready. What he wasn’t ready for, however, was for his doorbell to ring at 7:38 at night.

He never had any visitors, he had no clue who it could’ve been. But, he peaked through the peephole nonetheless and was momentarily stunned. Your bright eyes were peering at him through the glass and he had panicked for a split second if you could actually see him.

You were donned in a mid thigh black robe and some slippers with your hair in a messy bun atop your head. Your makeup was removed to show the natural flush of your cheeks. A coffee mug was in your hands, seeming huge compared to your small fingers. 

He had stumbled over his figure trying to open the door, his face turning harsh and demeaning when he saw you. “I know we don’t really know each other but I ran out of sugar and i already poured my cream in, do you have any?” Your voice surprised him, he didn’t know what he expected but he hadn’t expected the velvety music to flow through his system.

After that encounter, you tried to pry Bucky open. He was quite reserved the night you met, something that intrigued you beyond words. After months of knocking on his door, asking for some random object that you knew very well you had in your kitchen, he finally cracked and started to joke about you leeching onto him for his money.

He became your friend fairly quickly, then the man you ran to whenever you were cold at night, then the man you spent most of your nights tangled in the sheets with, then your proper boyfriend.

Bucky loved you more than anything, you loved him exactly the same. So, when he came to you telling you that he couldn’t stay there anymore and he had to leave you - you broke.

You had always been a calm person, never having a rude comment towards anybody. But, the idea of the love of your life leaving you made you feel a huge array of emotions. You screamed and cried and all around became a total bitch to Bucky for a solid three hours until you collapsed into the sofa and refused to acknowledge the fact bad things were happening to you.

Bucky broke our train of through with a touch on your shoulder, his metal fingers grasping the bare skin showing from his your oversized shirt. He slides over the couch easily, his thigh brushing against your toes.

“I used to love the winter. There’s something about the snow that just captivates me. Maybe it’s the way it turns to water against my skin despite how many times everyone tells me I’m freezing all the time or maybe it’s the way the sun reflects off it. I don’t know, I just used to love the winter. And then,” You paused, speaking your first words to him in the past few hours. “Then, well, you came along. And you loved me and I loved you more than my own life. And then you went and broke my heart in the dead of winter.”

Bucky sighs, his eyebrows furrowing together. “I guess it is funny though. People always say love will ruin you, I just didn’t believe them because theres no way that something so good could ruin someone. But, it did. You ruined me.” You finish, looking to the window to see the snow falling fresh on the ground.

Bucky watches you, his heart shattering at your words. “You know I love you.” He stops short, watching the way you chew your bottom lip, something you do when you’re trying to hold back your tears. “Fuck, come here.” Bucky mumbles, pulling you into his hard chest.

He holds you tight to him, letting you cry into his teeshirt as he sobs into your neck, clutching you as if his life depended on it. “Why can’t you just stay? You’re the only good i’ve ever had in my entire life - why the fuck can’t you stay?” Your words come out as mumbled sobs, muffled against his skin.

He places his fingers under your chin, forcing you to look at him. “I love you, so fucking much. More than i ever thought was possible. I want you to be safe, to not have to worry about someone finding out you’re with me and trying to kill y-”

“Yeah and what if they try to kill me while you’re gone because they know you’ll miss me, huh?!” You cut him off, slamming your fists onto his shirt. Bucky hadn’t thought of that, the idea putting him on edge. “Why are you doing this? You’re just going to leave me after two years?”

He shuffles under you, pressing his lips to your temple. “I can’t hold you back from living a beautiful life, I want you to find someone who can give you everything can’t.”

You shake your head in his heads, tears streaming down your cheeks. Bucky does his best to hold his in, sniffling every few seconds as he watches you break in his arms. “You’re the only man I’ll ever want. I’m going to spend the rest of my life comparing people to you only to find that they come up short. That they don’t hold me the way you do or they don’t make me feel like even though everything is shitty, somehow my life isn’t. I only want you.”

“I want your life to be fulfilling. I want you to marry someone and have beautiful babies with them and then grow old with the love of your life.You’ll always be mine, the love of my life, but I need you to find someone else to be yours. I need you to move on from me and forget all about me.” Bucky doesn’t realize he let some tears slip until he feels your fingers brushing them away. 

“I fucking hate the winter.” You mumble, resting your head on his shoulder. “And i fucking hate you for making me hate winter.”

“You don’t hate me.” Bucky corrects, his hands rubbing soothingly up your back. “You deserve to hate me, but you don’t. If you did you would have pushed me out of this apartment.”

Nodding, you look up at him. “Please, please stay.” Your voice is barley above a whisper, your bottom lip trembling. “I don’t know if I can do this on my own. It hurts, Bucky. It hurts so fucking bad.”

“Lets just forget about it right now. We have all night together, let’s just make the most of it and see how things play out in the morning.” Bucky consoles, laying on his back with you on top of him. His mind battles with itself as you cuddle into him, his thoughts about leaving you alone, susceptible to danger darting around his mind.

And then, in that moment, once again, James Barnes was completely and utterly ruined

New Fic: Wintersong

@glynnisi, here is your birthday fic!  Or at least the first part of it.  I’m envisioning a second part, but as I wanted to have something ready for you on your actual birthday, part one comes now and part two will come after I write it.

So, glynnisi asked for Steve/Darcy and bed sharing, and given the winter weather that’s been happening around the country right now, bringing in a snowstorm was inevitable.  And yes, it’s not out of the realm of possibility that NYC could get enough snow to actually shut down the trains subways - it happened last January, right around this time as well.

Anyway, on to the fic.  Happy birthday hon, and I hope you enjoy it!

Originally posted by kalliope-amorphous


“Do I want to know?”

“No, no you really don’t.”  Steve stands up, stretching slightly to work the kinks out of his back that happen even to a supersoldier when he’s been sitting down for too long.  “And technically, I’m not under arrest,” he says as the uniformed officer escorting Darcy unlocks the cell he’s currently being held in.

“He really isn’t,” the officer adds as Steve walks into the hall.  “It’s just that this is the easiest way to keep a low profile, something the Captain specifically requested.”

Darcy just rolls her eyes.  “I’ll get the whole story out of you eventually.”

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    CAREFUL REMINDER. that William thought Snow White was dead for YEARS and blamed himself for it every day. even though he was a CHILD when it happened and couldn’t do much more than direct his father and tell him where she was he blames himself and told himself every day that he could have done better, done something else besides leave her. 

KaraMel Fanfic #11

Title: Someone Who Makes Her Feel Beautiful

Prompt: Alex makes a plan to get Kara and Mon-El spend some alone time together.

Requested by @karamelforever I hope this was what you imagined sweetie, and you like it :)

Also posted on AO3.

Alex Danvers was determined to fix the relationship between her sister and Mon-El. The tension between them had been going on for weeks, and she’d just given up on them to fix it themselves. Tonight, one way or another, they’d have to talk about what happened between them, and finally Alex would be able to be in the same room with them without being afraid of the tight rubber band snapping at her face.

She’d been planning it for a week. Everything was supposed to go impeccably—if everyone played their roles. The weather forecast predicted a huge snowstorm for that night, which meant if Mon-El did go to Kara’s house, he’d probably be stuck there long enough for them to talk things out. But of course Kara wouldn’t accept being alone with him in anywhere, since she’d been avoiding that situation as best as she could, so Alex had to plan it all out: She made it into a movie night that only Mon-El would end up going.

She’d talked with Winn and James. At first, they were surprised by her kind request to bail on Kara. At least James was surprised, Winn had agreed without a word of hesitation. She’d managed to duck their questions by telling them she was busy and explain it later, and it would be good for them to not do as she requested. That was done.

She also talked to Maggie. Her girlfriend knew all about Kara and Mon-El, firstly because she was actually smarter than either Winn or James and sensed the tension between the two, and also because Alex had told her about the kiss she’d witnessed when Maggie asked her about them. Yes, Alex had seen that kiss, but when both Kara and Mon-El pretended like they didn’t remember it or it didn’t happen, there wasn’t mush she could do. She didn’t even ask Kara about it, hoping she’d come clean.

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thxne  asked:

2, 6, and 8 for whoever you want!!

2. What is their voice like? 

Gentler than you think. Warm, rich, it’s the best when he laughs. Feels like a home, even if it isn’t yours. Powerful in the way it can change from home to hell in a flash when he doesn’t like something. Sharp tongue, softer words.

Very Welsh, too. Rounded vowels, elongated sounds, short consonants, clipped sentences. Like trying to contain a plethora of vowels inside consonant brackets. It makes sense when you hear someone speaking with the accent, trust me!

6. What do they like to wear? 

Gym shorts. All the time. Always. Dead of winter? Gym shorts. Raining? Gym shorts. Snow? You guessed it! Gym shorts!

He loves hoodies though. Warm, snuggly ones with pockets.

He’s definitely one of those people who walks around in shorts while wearing a hoodie and a beanie because it’s cold.

8. What’s the weirdest thing they’ve ever eaten? 


Knocked him out for a day.

Leave Me [03]

summary: you were separated from your family from a young age. thrown into a cell and forced to serve as a lab-rat for hydra, you would’ve lost all your will to live, if not for the fella in the cell next to you.

pairing: bucky x reader (finally some (really short) one on one action!! still pretty platonic tho, but you can let your imagination run wild!!)

warnings: mention of character death, mention of murder, actual murder, uhhhhhhh angsty? like it’s pretty angsty, bUT with a bit of fluff on the end to make it up :)), swearwords? yeah for sure, so just make sure your christian grandmother isn’t peeking at your phone when you’re reading this (no shade at christian grandmothers, they’re great. i have one too) i think that’s about it? yea that’s about it. 

word count: 3007 words

a/n: FINALLY A PART 3! I AM SO SORRY that it took so long you guys! i hope i can make it up to you with this extra long part! yes this is the ending, the finAL PART! :) i hope you guys enjoyed this short series. i will be starting on a few other fics and a request i got! :) EXTRA THANKS TO @buckyywiththegoodhair FOR EDITING THIS EVEN THOUGH SHE WAS BUSY!!! YOU SHOULD ALL CHECK HER OUT, SHE’S GREAT!!!


Originally posted by charlestonchewbacca

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felix imagine / concrete angel

hey! so this one is kind of long, terribly sorry if it’s an inconvenience! this one also combines my theory that felix’s scar is from abuse and that’s why peter took him to neverland, but yeah! i hope you enjoy!

reminder that felix imagine requests are closed, however, peter pan imagines are open!

TRIGGER WARNING: this imagine mentions abuse/domestic violence! i do not romanticize this topic, as this was just a request, but if you need someone to talk to, my inbox is always open! thank you guys so much for being so understanding!

this imagine also contains cursing!

prompt: here

requested by: anonymous


Your legs force themselves to move as fast as they can; you have to escape, you can’t stop running or he will get you. You know he has magic, but if there’s even the slightest chance of survival, you will take it. The quiet night startles you as you continue to sprint away from his palace, the moon glowing brightly against your skin. After what seems like hours, your body collapses in front of a rather large house. You’ve always been a person with morals, but right now, you need a place to stay, a place where you’ll be safe for the night, and it’s perfect for the moment. You make your way to the ground-level window and carefully pry it open; luckily the owners (if there are any) leave their windows unlocked. You force yourself over the slight ledge, and your body hits the ground, but you’re too tired to make an attempt to get up. You lay on the floor, catching your breath, trying to gain your energy back from the constant running from him. Your hand reaches in your pocket and pulls out the small vial containing a thick pink liquid: the product of true love, which you stole from him. Footsteps descending down stairs echo through the house, making your heart pound faster, as you make an effort to get up. When your legs finally stand up, your hand leaning on the wall for support, a bright light blinds your eyes, as a figure walks towards you.

“Hello?” He whispers softly, his voice gentle and welcoming.

“Please…please help me” is all you manage to get out before a loud ringing takes over your hearing and your vision turns black, your body falling to the floor.


Your eyes slowly open only to find a teen boy—around 16 or 17—staring at you as you lay on a bed. His hair glows white under the moon, and his eyes pierce yours with their stunning blue color.

“Are you awake?” He asks quietly, examining you.

“Yeah” You reply in a tired voice, “Sorry about earlier. I can leave now.” You attempt to get up, but a headache hits you like a tidal wave and you can’t help but grab your head to focus your thoughts.

“Stay for a while, at least until your head feels better. What were you doing here anyway?”

“I was trying to run away from this guy and I found this house and it was just such a long run and I don’t know, I was hungry and tired and just needed a place to stay for the night so I came in and I’m sorry” you answer nervously, scared of what he would do to you.

“Oh, well, you’re welcome to stay here for as long as you want, but my parents can’t find out, though they’re rarely home…so the house is basically ours.”

“Thanks a lot, um…” you didn’t know what to call him, since he never gave a name.

“Felix…and you?”


“Nice to meet you, (Y/N).”

“Nice to meet you too, Felix.”

“Wait…did you say someone was chasing you? Who was it?”

“I…I can’t say. If I do he’ll find me and he’ll take me and he—”

Felix cuts you off by grabbing your hand gently, calming your shaking and nervous body. You sniffle softly, just now noticing the tears streaming down your cheek as you wipe them with your sleeve.

“It’s okay, (Y/N), I’ll keep you safe. I promise.”

“Thank you, Felix.”

“Are you hungry? I can make something to eat quick.”

“That’d be great…thanks.”

“No problem.”


The long series of trees quickly pass you as your legs move as fast as they can possibly go, your heart rate increasing while tears come out of your eyes from fear. You find yourself in a secluded area surrounded the forest and the terrifying cawing of crows. Your body collapses, as you sit down on the ground to take a short break. The feeling of being watched surrounds you as you slowly turn yourself around.

“Hello, dearie” he smiles sinisterly, his yellow eyes glowing, an evil look in them, “I believe you have something that belongs to me.”

You scream loudly as your body wakes up, a layer of sweat covering your forehead. You desperately attempt to comfort yourself while your breathing rate goes up.

“It was just a dream” you whisper those words numerous times to try and convince yourself you were okay, but before long, a familiar white-haired boy sprints into your room.

“(Y/N)! Are you okay?” Tears begin to well up in your eyes until you collapse into your knees, sobbing uncontrollably.

Felix walks up to the side of your bed, wrapping his arm around your frame to rub your arm gently, which comforted you and almost stopped your uncontrollable crying.

“It’s okay, (Y/N). It was just a bad dream.”

“No, Felix. He’s coming for me, and he’s not going to stop until…until…” you stop and burst into tears, but Felix simply pulls you closer to him, as the warmth from his body soothes you. You feel safe with him, protected, as if anything could happen in this very moment, but he would be by your side through it all.

“Who’s coming for you?”

“I can’t say his name, or he’ll find me and…and…”

“Can you write it down?” You nod your head as Felix walks towards the shelf across the room to grab a pencil and a small piece of paper. Your shaky hands quickly grasp the pencil and scribble his name:


“Well, what does he want?” Felix questions, refusing to use his name for your protection.

“He wants this” you pull out a petite tube containing glowing pink liquid, and hand it to him so he can observe it, while a confused look presses onto his face.

“I stole it from him. It’s the product of true love.” You explained to the boy.

“What does it do?” he asks politely, using his fingers to examine the object closely.

“I’m not quite sure. He wanted it pretty badly though.”

“So why did you steal it” his blue eyes stare right into yours, almost mesmerizing you with their bright color.

“It was made from the hair of my sister, and I just needed something to remember her by.”

“Who’s your sister and what happened to her?”

“Snow White. The Queen wants her dead, so she ran away and left me behind, thinking it would protect me from the Queen’s magic.”

“I’m sorry” he apologizes and hands you your tube before you carefully place it on the shelf next to your bed.

“It’s fine.”

“Well, I’m sure you’re tired, so you should be going back to bed, hm?”

“Yeah, I guess” you reply, shrugging your shoulders, though agreeing with him, as your body could use the rest.

“Goodnight, (Y/N)” he makes sure you’re comfortable in your bed before walking towards the exit.

“Felix, wait.” His entire body turns around to see what you want.


“Can you…stay with me tonight?” You hesitantly ask, but he simply smiles at your request and slides into bed with you as he places his arms around your body with the feeling of warmth and protection returning to your body.


“Felix!” a female voice echoes through the entire house, Felix jerking awake at the sound of her voice.

“Shit!” he whispers to himself, as he scurries to get up, leaving the blankets covering the two of you a mess.

“Felix? What’s happening?”

“I’m sorry, (Y/N), but you need to leave. Now.” he hands you your tube of magic, and runs to open the window.

“Wait, what’s happening?”

“My parents, (Y/N). They can’t find you, or they’ll hurt you or…they’ll do something worse! But you need to leave! Please.” He begs, the footsteps ascending up the stairs growing louder by the second. “I know it looks far down, but it’s not; I’ve done it numerous times. There’s a deck on the second floor, and it’s easy to land on without getting hurt. Then you should be able to get to the ground. Trust me.”

The door busts open, a tall, threatening woman holding a glass bottle appearing from it as Felix’s eyes widen in fear. She takes one look at you before staring right back at Felix.

“(Y/N)! Get out!” He yells at you before you adjust yourself to jump out of his window.

“Who IS she?” the woman yells, and the last image you see before you leap out is Felix on the ground, a fresh cut across his face, and the woman holding a broken bottle.

You promise yourself to return the next day to check up on him, to make sure he’s okay.

“I promise, Felix.”


The next day passes by and you keep your promise, sneaking into his house while his parents are out, and quickly running up to his room to see him. You open up the door to his room, “Felix?”

No response.

Your next stop includes the room you saw him last, but Felix isn’t there; only a patch of blood remains on the floor, and you immediately assume the worst:

“Felix is dead.”

As you walk home, a large, purple cloud catches your attention, thunder and lightning roaring inside of it; it screams evil, and soon, it envelops you, your entire life flashing before you, your life containing precious memories that will soon be replaced with lies.


Years pass, approximately 28 years from what you can remember, and now that the savior is back, your memories return, memories of your life in the Enchanted Forest, memories of everything you did there. Thanks to Emma, your mind is no longer cluttered with fake thoughts that you believed when Regina cursed you 28 years ago. You spent 28 years suffering, tortured in your own head with nothing to grasp onto besides the lies the Queen stored in your brain. Emma saved you, and you’re forever grateful for that, but now it’s time for you to save her son. Henry’s been taken by Greg and Tamara to Neverland, where Peter Pan resides.

Your sister, Mary Margaret, warns you of the dangers, but something inside of you begs to go to Neverland, as if there’s something there that you need, as if going to Neverland is destiny, though you only tell your sister that you have to repay Emma for all that she has done for you.

After a couple hours of preparing for the trip, everyone gathers upon the Jolly Roger, the infamous Captain Hook’s ship, which he cherishes more than anything.

“Is everybody on board?” he asks, holding the wheel of the ship tightly, preparing to guide it to Neverland. Everyone gives a determined, “Yes” to the man with the hook for a hand, and almost instantaneously, Rumplestiltskin launches a bean into the ocean: a magic bean that creates a portal to another world, and in this case, it’s headed straight to Neverland. You have forgiven him for all he had done to you when the two of you lived in the Enchanted Forest, as that is not important at the moment, for your mission is to work together to rescue Henry from the notorious Peter Pan. The bean transforms into a bright green portal, and before long, the Jolly Roger sails straight into it.

Your eyes flutter to adjust to the new lighting of Neverland, a dark and dreary place, and you stare at the island, your heart beating faster, that feeling of destiny appearing in your mind again. Neverland intrigues you and you can’t understand why it does. It’s as if something from your past belongs there and it’s your job to find it.

The Jolly Roger makes its way towards the lonely place, the clear water shimmer beautifully while carrying the ship towards Neverland. Time passes by before the ship lands at the back of the island, though immediately a group of boys halt your mission. One hides himself in an oversized hood while holding a large staff, which could clearly end someone’s life if it needed to, and the thought of it sends shivers down your spines.

“Who are you? And why are you here?” the boy asks, his voice harsh.

“We’re here for my son” your sister’s daughter boldly states, determination glistening in her crystal blue eyes.

“Henry? Well, you won’t be getting him” the boy reveals himself by removing the hood from his face, and instantly, your eyes widen in surprise. There, right in front of you, stands Felix, the boy who protected you from his parents, the boy who gave you food when you needed it, the boy who kept you safe, the boy you thought was dead. He’s right there in front of you.

“Felix?” you whisper, almost speechless from the sight of him.

He takes one close look at you and by the look in his eyes, you can tell he recognizes you, “(Y/N)?”

His arms immediately embrace you in a hug, as tears begin to well up in your eyes from the joy of seeing one of your closest friends again.

“I missed you.”


request a peter pan imagine here

anonymous asked:

It’s too cold to go outside with adultrio?

Sorry this took so long. It was really fun to write but I couldn’t think of anything for a while. :)


           “Y/n where are you?” Chrollo called through your apartment.

           A groan came from the direction of your bedroom. It was muffled since you were bundled under the sheets.

           “You were supposed to meet me at the market.” You heard him enter your bedroom.

           You peeked over the top of the sheets. “It’s too cold outside,” you said, ducking your head back underneath the sheets into the warm cavern.

           Chrollo peeled back the sheets that you were clutching over your head. “I’m only going to be in town for a few more days. I wanted to do something with you.” You shrunk down into the bed to maintain warmth.

           “You mean you wanted me to distract someone while you stole something.” You said. Cold weather was the bane of your existence. You hated it more than anything. You didn’t feel like going out just so Chrollo could have his fun stealing.

“I was going to steal something nice for you, my love.”

You rolled your eyes. “I bet you were.”

Chrollo noticed a familiar tuft of fluff sticking out of the sheets by your neck. Chrollo tried to pull the sheets away but you were clutching them to your chest. He wrestled the sheets from your grip and pulled them off.

           “My my. What do we have here?” He whispered. A smirk tugged at his lips as he took in the view of you in your underwear and his coat.

           “I couldn’t find my bathrobe.” You blushed. “So I borrowed your spare coat.”

           Chrollo toyed with the fur around your neck. “I can think of an indoor activity that will keep you warm.” Chrollo bent down and touched your forehead with his. “I think you owe me for missing our date. Don’t you?”

           You leaned up to kiss him. “That’s hardly a date, Danchou,” you breathed.


           “Are you ready to go?” Illumi called to you.

           “No. It’s too cold outside. Do we have to?”

           “Yes.” Illumi left no room for negotiation. He had scheduled a date for the two of you today, which meant he wouldn’t let you out of it. Illumi had determined that a proper couple should have at least two dates a week. If you missed this one, you would have to make up for it another week and you would get some kind of lecture about how the bond between two people would weaken if you didn’t see each other for the allotted time. Illumi didn’t like to schedule make up dates.

           “Illu, can we stay inside today? Please?” You thought using a pet name might loosen him up.

           “I’ve already made reservations. A Zoldyck never misses an appointment.”

           You walked into his living room where he was waiting for you. You had been in your underwear since you weren’t planning on leaving and you thought it might sweeten the deal a little, especially since it was the strappy, pseudo BDSM type.

           You bit your lip, trying to pose a little provocatively. “Are you sure we can’t skip it?”

           Illumi looked you up and down and then checked his phone. “Sex is scheduled for between 1:00pm and 2:00pm.”

           You frowned at him.

           “Stay.” Illumi said. He left and was back in a few minutes. “Here.” Illumi gave you a rather expensive looking fur coat. “Mother said you could borrow it. Now you won’t be cold and you can accompany me to our date.”


           As soon as you woke up and saw that it was snowing outside, you were excited. You scrambled to put on your coat and boots so you could run outside and play in the snow. You set to work making a snowman, well, a snowsoka. You even found a twig that could hold a pack of Bungee Gum and stuck it in the snowman for an arm. As a finishing touch, you put some pebbles you found in the shape of a heart and a diamond on the front of the snowman.

           When you were done you ran back to your room where Hisoka was still asleep and jumped on his sleeping form.

           “Hisoka! Wake up! It’s snowing!” You continued to bounce on top of him to shake him awake.

           Hisoka groaned. You bounced off him to fling the sheets off and then jumped back on top.

           “Wake up! I want to show you something!” You peppered his face and neck with kisses. “Come on,” you purred in his ear.

           One amber eye popped open to look at you. “And what would that be, my little peach?”

           “It’s a surprise.” You tried to pull him up by his shoulders to no avail. He was straining against your grip to stay in bed.

           “Why are you all wet?”

           “I was playing in the snow. Please come look at what I made you.”

           “It’s too cold outside.”

           You ran your hands up his body. “I’ll warm you up after,” you crooned.

           Hisoka laughed. “That’s the offer I was waiting for.” He got out of bed and got dressed. You led him outside to your snowman.

           “Do you like it?”

           “Is that me?” He snickered. “You’re missing something.”

           Hisoka started making another snowman a few feet away from his likeness. It was a generic looking snowman, but it was horizontal in the snow. He took out a few playing cards and stuck them into his snowman’s torso.

           “I guess you’re right. It wouldn’t be Hisoka without a dead body lying around.”

           Hisoka smirked and snatched the Bungee Gum out of your snowman’s hand, popping a piece in his mouth. He held up the package. “This was a nice touch though.” With a wave of his finger he pulled you to his side. “I came. I saw. Now it’s time to hold up your end of the bargain,” he leaned to murmur in your ear.

Further notes about those photos in my last post.

- Hoobler had already acquired a Luger in Holland.  In the Bois Jacques he probably had pilfered a WWI era pistol.  He would keep it in his pocket and fiddle with the safety.  It could have been something as simple as turning to brush snow off his shoulder that caused him to accidently pull the trigger.  He was dead within about 2 minutes.
- Julian died in Christenson’s arms, not alone in the snow like is portrayed in BoB.  They did have to abandon his body for 10 days though.
- One of my favouite stories - Frank told us he was actually there when it happened.  Bill and Babe were revisiting this part of the woods (something they frequently did), and a young child asked Bill why he only had one leg.  Bill replied that he’d lost his other leg somewhere around here, if the kid could find it he’d give him 5 bucks.  The kid was quite distressed that he was unable to find the missing leg, but Bill gave him 5 bucks anyway.
- Dike should have been reporting to Batallion HQ - which is Dick’s foxhole, however he would take the road to Luzery up to Regimental HQ, located in a warm, dry building.
- From this view into Foy (pronounced Fois - like in Fois Gras), one morning Shifty Powers noticed a tree that had not been there the previous morning.  He pointed it out to Lipton who had a look through his binoculars and spotted a gun emplacement.  They were able to call in artillery to destroy the gun.
- Earl McClung and Buck Taylor spotted the sniper who had shot Smokey and immediately crossed the road to go after him.  They managed to shoot him in short order.
- Tour guides, historians and vets are 95% sure which foxhole Smokey (and Frank Mellett, his assistant machine gunner) was situated in, as it’s the only T-shaped foxhole on that line, which is the shape of a foxhole for a machine gunner.  To the right was Buck Taylor and Earl McClung, to the left Frank Sobeleski and Herb Suerth. The foxholes are extremely close together, because otherwise Germans could just pass through their line during foggy days where soldiers sometimes could not even see their hand in front of their face.
- I got to sit in Smokey’s foxhole omG!!
- Easy Company had been moved further to the west into an area known as the Bois Fazone on January 10.  This was where Skip and Penkala were killed during a shelling.  Easy then moved back east - attached to third battalion which had been decimated - to launch the attack on Foy.
- In the stream heading towards Noville, Tony Garcia was carrying mortar rounds, they unbalanced him as he crossed the stream and he fell in, getting soaked in freezing water.  He didn’t go on the patrol that night because his clothes kept cracking from the ice.

Let’s stay strong, Snowbarries!

Westallen is canon, but guess what? So was Spallen. Flashpoint is the story arc that killed Westallen in the comics, so it wouldn’t be that much of a reach to kill it again in the TV show.

Even though things seem grim right now, and if we blinked we missed Caitlin in the S3 trailer, I still have hope. Olicity once seemed like a dead end and now they’re pretty much a confirmed endgame. I’m not giving up on this ship, because when you give up something you want, that’s the day you guarantee you’re never gonna get it.

fyeahsnowbaz  asked:

quote: not for nothing, but last time someone looked at me like that, I got laid

hehe, hi Bente, thank you for this sending in! 

Baz is an artist (singer) and Simon his manager. (I don’t know how this quote got me there, but we’re rolling with is ;D) (Also, I feel like this is a bit ooc for simon, but oh well, it’s not really too ooc)(it’s also quite long)
I hope you’ll enjoy it!

I wish Baz would take this situation more serious. 

He had been arrested this morning and so far he’s not willing to tell me for what. He keeps giving me stupid and non-serious answers.
I’m just praying Penny, his publicist will be able to fix this. Though I wish her good luck with covering this up because Baz his eye is pitch black (no pun intended). 

I have been Baz his manager for only two months and I’ve already seriously thought about quitting a few times. Baz is impossible. The only reason I’m still here is because of the butterflies I feel in my stomach every time I see him.

Baz and I are now at the police. Baz is staring at me with an annoying grin on his face. He just got himself paid out and we’re about to leave.
Though, I’m nervous about the paparazzi outside. This is going to look so bad and the worst part is that Baz hasn’t been doing good in the media the last half year. 

After waiting a little longer we could get Baz out at the back of the police office without being seen, I hope. We’re now back at his apartment in London. 

Baz is leaning against the wall whilst I sit on his couch, drinking a much needed coffee. 

“Just tell what happened, Baz.” 

“I got in a fight, obviously.” Baz says in a lazy tone, not looking at me. 

“I got that, what I want to know is how that happened.” 

He looks over at me with a grin on his face but an irritated look in his eyes. “You’re gonna act like my mum now all of a sudden?”

I stand up from the couch, hating how much Baz is looking down on me. “Goddammit, Baz,”

He chuckles an evil chuckle. “Not for nothing, but last time someone looked at me like that, I got laid.” Baz says with a wicked grin on his face. The disturbed bastard.

I try to keep my angered look, but I can’t help but blush a little as well. 

Baz seems to notice and winks at me. I’m so done with him. 

“Just tell what happened at the fight. I need to know. I’m your manager.”

“I don’t see why that’s a good reason.” 

I push a hand through my hair and Baz looks at me, licking his lips. I feel the butterflies in my stomach flutter. Then his eyes turn bored again and he grins at me.

“Just tell me, Baz,” I sigh. 

He sighs as well, “Alright,” he sounds annoyed, “I just was really pissed off last night and I felt like punching something. Then this bloke came up to me and his face was just annoying so he seemed like a good target.” 

I stand there, perplexed. “Seriously?”

He simply nods.

I close my eyes and try to calm my anger. “Why,” I say cooly “do you act so stupid? You know the big consequences this can have for you, right?” I start to lose my cool “Why didn’t you just go home and punch a wall or something? That would’ve done the job! Now Penny and I can clean this all up after your dumb ass!”

“I didn’t want to go home! I… Ugh, just shut up, Snow!” 

“No! Baz, no, I’m not shutting up! Why can’t you just behave yourself? Why in hell we’re you so frustrated you felt the need to punch someone!?”

If looks could kill, I would be dead right now. I think Baz is about to punch me. But then he just gives up. He slowly slides down against the wall until he’s sitting on the ground. 

“Just because,” he says, in a soft voice, though still filled with anger. 

I sigh and walk over to Baz. 

“Really Baz, tell me what happened last night. Why we’re you so frustrated?”

“Nothing happened.”

I sigh again. My life if full of sighs since Baz is in it. I sit down next to him. We don’t look at each other. We both stare at the room we’re in. “You’re really not going to tell me?”

“No, I’m telling you. Nothing happened. That was why I was frustrated.”

I’m confused now. “What do you mean?” 

Baz takes a deep breath. “Well, I wanted something to happen last night, but nothing did. I mean, I wanted something to happen between…” He’s quiet for a moment, but then he finishes his sentence, “Between you and me.” 

I abruptly look at him, but he doesn’t look at me. I think about last night. We had been in a meeting until late. I remember that, afterwards, I had asked him to come to my apartment to hang out. (which, not gonna lie, took me a lot of courage) But he had said no, quite bluntly actually. 

“Wait, what? You we’re the one to dismiss my offer of hanging out?” 

“Yeah, I’m a coward,” he says softly, “you get why I was frustrated now? I wanted to hang out with you and I wanted something to happen, but it didn’t because I’m a coward.” 

I can’t believe what I’m hearing. He is admitting he truly wanted something to happen between us. And I’m pretty sure he’s talking about, well, more intimate stuff. I can feel my heart skip a beat and I want to kiss him, but for some reason my mouth conspires against me. 

“Really Baz? And that made you punch a guy? I wanted something to happen between us as well! And you hurt me by saying no! But I didn’t punch a guy, did I?” 

“Sod off, Snow,” Baz says, turning his face to me and staring straight into my eyes. He has beautiful eyes, even when they tell me that they want me dead. 

“No.” I reply and that’s the point where I grab Baz’s face and kiss him. Half hating myself for giving in so easy, but quickly forgetting that because I’m kissing Baz

Baz freezes at first, but starts to kiss me back short after that. It’s a messy, rushed kiss, but I love every second of it. I’ve wanted to do this since the day I became his manager. 

We break apart, both breathing heavy. “Uhh,” I say, “that was for last night.” 

Baz laughs. He gabs me by my shirt and pulls me closer to him. I crawl onto his lap, legs on either side of him and before I know it his lips meet mine again.

The kiss still feels rushed, but more passionate this time. I feel Baz’s hand slide under my shirt and I freeze. I pull back and don’t meet Baz’s eyes.

“What is it?” Baz asks.

“Uhm, when you said you wanted something to happen last night, did you… Did you mean it as in sex or, well, do you really want me. As in…” I keep stumbling over my words. “Did you mean sex or did you mean you really want something with me? Like, I mean, a relationship?”

Baz puts his hand under my chin and forces me to look at him. He’s grinning at me, like always, but his eyes are softer. 


Send me a quote and I’ll write a short snowbaz fic/blurb!!

anonymous asked:

That Sansa storyline makes no sense at all, I thought they might have her escape through the crypts or something, the crypts being the only place that the Stark children uniquely have knowledge of. She should have been able to get out of her room easily, it's her house, her turf, there should have been something to indicate her intimacy with the damn place, she can reconstruct it from goddamn memory in snow. DAMMIT!!! It's just so insulting at this point. To hell with this bad fanfic show.

But that one random old lady was dead so how could she possibly have escaped? You’re totally right about the crypts though, or anything. Too bad taunting her abuser didn’t lead to fantastic results (still not over that).

Interestingly I was chatting with someone who knows a thing or two about locks in castles, and they felt that Sansa getting out by lockpicking with an auger is a bit ridiculous:

[Castle] keys are between 5” and 7” in length and made of heavy iron. And the “bit”s which turns the tumblers are about 1”-1.5” deep.

There is no way I can see to be able to turn the heavy (also iron) tumblers enough with that tool. It makes no sense to start with, but also the depth of the spiral on the auger wouldn’t be enough to touch the tumblers at all, and if it was, the thing wouldn’t fit in the hole (the bit part is flat for a reason). Then, the gaps in the screw thread would be too spaced out to hit all the tumblers like you need to (usually 4 at that time, unlike the standard 6 we use now), in the space of about 2” inside the barrel.

It’s a small nitpick (and they said they’d need to test it to be sure anyway), though the idea of Sansa learning lockpicking in general is a bit odd. What was that thing about plots needing to unfold with respect to characterizations? Schmeh.

Reylo/Hades& Persephone AU:
(special thanks to @elviriel)

It was much too cold for her.  That’s how she could tell she was no longer on Jakku. Opening her eyes, Rey found she was lying on snow on the ground. She was in a dense forest with withered dead trees leaves.  As she stood up to observe the area, she noted the irony of it.  One extreme to the next.  From desert to snow, it seems that no matter where she went, she would be missing out on green.

It was dark on this planet despite all the white snow.  It was almost as if she could feel the darkness surround her.  As though the darkness was not the absence of light but an emotion. Something that was trying to claim her.

“Don’t be afraid,” a voice said behind her.  “I feel it, too.”

Keep reading

OPEN RP ((zombie apocalypse))

((Human Kolda :3 ))

It was cold winter as Kolda quickly runs though the snow as she watch the dead slowly walking and seem to hurry themself to get to Kolda.

She was panting heavily as the snow was weighing her down as it melted on her cloths “Wh-why me….. I hate this… WHY CANT THEY ALL JUST DIE!!!” She yelled before something grad her leg. Kolda then looked over seeing a Zombie that grad her leg and pulling her close to him. She then begin to yelled for help trying to get it off of her her, but it soon got on top of her trying to bite her “SOME ONE HELP!!!” She cried as she panics but she could see some one coming for her aid.

snow on quiet nights

|| @enchantainer

He had to get used to it, being dead.

The idea of it, at least.  His body just a walking husk of what he had been as a human, harboring resentment and a grudge unfulfilled.  After all, though he looks as he did when he died (human, all too human), it’s only a disguise.  Underneath his skin is the monster, after all.  Fierce, destructive, a rotting corpse mangled, covered in sickly feathers and scales, and skin stretched over spindled muscle and bone.  

There isn’t exactly anything pretty about what he is underneath it all, just as there isn’t exactly anything convenient about being dead.  It’s a mess, something that he doesn’t like working with, and though he dresses like he’s cold (a coat, black, a scarf wrapped tight around his neck and a turtleneck beneath, thick jeans, and heavy boots) he can’t feel anything.  He can’t even see his own breath in the air.

(not like he needs to breathe)

Sure, there’s a sense of morbidity in sitting on his own grave, watching as the snow falls, but he has nothing better to do in his death.  People don’t even really know he’s back, reanimated and walking among the living as some anonymous being.  He’s gone under many different names, has kept himself anonymous, because Kurosaki Shun?

Is dead.

“And I guess that’s why you’re here,” he says, referring to the new presence that had made itself known in the graveyard.  

So this is my percyssantahat secret santa gift for @butterflyarrows !! Merry christmas, i hope you like this!!

Will Solace was afraid of a lot of things. He was afraid of cyclopses, the children of ares
(well, some of them, at least.) and he was always afraid of losing a patient in the infirmary. However, he thought, this might have been the scariest thing he’d ever been through. Will Solace was faced with a snowball fight.
Usually, snowball fights were no big deal. He was usually in the same team with the rest of his cabin, and being the children of Apollo, they were generally food at aiming and such, but this was different. Today, he was facing a completely different kind of fight.
Fortunately, (or perhaps not,) Cecil had picked teams. It was him, Cecil, and Lou Ellen (no surprises there) against Hazel, Rachel, and Nico.
Will was terrified. Hazel and Rachel were terrifying enough, what with Hazel’s mist powers and Rachel’s strange ability to see the snowball heading for her just before it was thrown, but Will was most terrified of Nico.
It had been five years since tartarus, but hell had left its mark. Nico was still small, and some of his psychological problems still persisted, but time too, had left its mark and Nico was overall better. He was a terrifying warrior, and even though he still couldn’t use his child-of-hades powers for an extended period of time, he could shadow-travel and intimidate the shit out of anyone, including Will.
However, this was not the reason Will was afraid. He was afraid because he knew what Nico could do in a snowball fight. He knew it all too well. Still, he reasoned with himself, what could go wrong? He and Nico had been dating for a year and a half, that had to count for something, didnt it?
Will was dead wrong. Apparently, Nico was going back to hell before he would be merciful in a snowball fight, and he fired off snowball after snowball, each one either hitting their snow fort with a muffled thwack! (Though ‘fort’ was a generous term for what Will’s team had, it was more like snow in a vaguely vertical pile) or hurtling over their heads to hit trees behind them.
“Asshole!” Will called over the wall, hoping to be able to distract anyone on the other team long enough to get in a good shot. It didnt work, and instead of him getting in a good throw, he found himself covered in snow. Nico peered over the wall, laughing at Will’s spluttering. Will reached around for a snowball, wiping at his eyes, but wasnt able to find one in time. Nico smiled, and disappeared, laughing. Will scowled as his gloved fingers found a snowball too late. He yelled to Cecil and Lou Ellen, asking for some cover. They nodded, throwing what remaining snowballs they had as Will crawled away from their protection, hoping that no one on the other side would notice his absence. He hoped that Lou Ellen had been able to gather some Mist to mask his leaving. He crept around to the other fort, glimpsing Rachel’s hair as it caught the light, creating an almost halo-like appearance, even with her hat on. He just hoped Nico and Hazel were on her other side.
Will crawled toward Rachel, not really knowing what he was doing, just knowing that he should probably get as many snowballs away from her as he could. He reached for her pile, hoping to grab a few before she noticed-
Two sets of hands grabbed his shoulders. Fear flooded through him, rooting him to the spot.
“Hi Will!” Hazel said brightly, peering over his shoulder to look at him.
“Hi Will,” Nico echoed, also peering over his shoulder. “Didn’t expect to see you here,” Will smiled brightly. “Hiya sunshine!” He said, trying to sound light. “I guess im full of surprises,”
Hazel snorted on his other side, and Rachel turned around from where she had been lobbing snowballs at his team.
“Would you two stop flirting? We’re kind if in the middle of something here.” She said, rolling her eyes. Will saw Nico going tomato red out of the corner of his eye. “We’re not-” he started, but Will cut him off. “Sorry, no can do. Blame my dad.” Rachel huffed, and he could have sworn he heard her mumble oh, dont worry, i already do under her breath. Hazel and Nico hauled him to his feet, laughing. Rachel stood up with them.
“We have a prisoner!” She yelled, pumping her fist in the air. “Surrender, or he gets it!”
Will furrowed his brow. “Or ill get what?” He whispered to Nico, suddenly wary. Nico just smiled. “Oh, nothing.” he said, and Will suddenly had an inkling of what was going to happen to him.
“Nico, I swear to Zeus if you-”
“Never!” Cecil yelled back, and Will knew he was doomed. Nico grinned, and Hazel let go of his arm. Before Will could try to escape, Nico shadow-traveled, and the darkness surrounded them.
The dock was really icy, and Nico and Will stood way to close to the edge. Will glared at his smirking boyfriend. “I swear Nico, if you push me in, I’m pulling you in with me.” Nico laughed.
“I’d like to see you try!” He laughed, and pushed Will toward the end of the dock. Will grabbed his arms, trying his hardest to pay Nico back for his treachery. “Will-” Nico yelled, trying to find his footing, but it was too late. They plunged into the freezing cold water, both of them yelling at the other.
Will Solace really hated his boyfriend. It was his fault that they were both surrounded by blankets, shivering uncontrollably. Nico sneezed, and Will handed him a tissue. “You’re dumb.” Nico said bitterly, but the effect was lost. His voice sounded so odd, Will almost laughed. Nico glared at him from the other side of the couch. “My statement still stands.” He said, congested. Will just laughed.