He could never say no to him. He never would say no to him. Even when he believed with every fiber of his being that this was not the way things should be.Â
But he could not still his hand as it slid through Dimitriâs hair, settling it against his head and neck. The wind had riled it up on their walk over to the Goddess Tower, snowflakes long-melted as they trudged up the stairs. Now they looked upon the broken monastery and the shadowed lands beneath it. Dimitriâs hair felt damp against his hand.
âYou hesitate, Dedue.â He pushed against his hand, palm to his scalp. âEven now.â
Dedue had no response that Dimitri had not heard before. This conversation took place often, but every time Dedue was quicker to give in. To let himself touch Dimitri, to pull him close, to protect him. To give him what he needed. The hesitancy was his last line of defense before he could no longer just be Dimitriâs vassal. Before they were entangled and duty drove him no longer.
Dimitri covered Dedueâs hand with his own and pulled him closer to the open window where snow was still falling, occasionally blowing into the room. The sky was the glowing darkness of a snowy evening, backlit by moonlight and the fires roaring inside Garreg Mach. It would be peaceful, in another time. Now, it was melancholy. Bittersweet. Tinged with memories of their academy days.
But even through reverie Dedue felt the magnetic pull of Dimitri, he turned toward the window, Dedueâs hands followed and fell to his shoulders, sliding down to his forearms, and continuing to embrace him from behind. He was stiff and awkward as always, but all it took was Dimitri melting back into him, letting him carry some of his weight, trusting him enough to fall back into him, to let him relax. He pressed his face into his hair and tugged him closer.
âDo you enjoy this?â He could hear the slight smile in Dimitriâs voice.Â
âYes.â Dedue had to hold his tongue, to note that this was not in Dimitriâs best interest either way, it always soured his mood. He couldnât think of any other way to say it to make him understand. He used to be so resolute, but especially when they were alone like this, maybe it was okay to let it happen. To give in. âDo you, your highness?â
Dimitri spluttered and squeezed Dedueâs arm in mock anger. âYou must call me Dimitri while you hold me.â
âYes, Dimitri.â
They were silent for a long while, sharing their warmth, protected by their furred cloaks and their desire to stay just a moment more. Dedue tried not to ponder on what this would mean in the future, when the war was won and Dimitri would reign as king. It would be harder to disentangle their hearts.Â
âI do,â Dimitri said quietly, turning his head against Dedueâs chest. âI do like this. And your thoughts are so loud.â
âWe must always be thinking ahead. Preparation and planning have gotten us this far.â He tilted down, resting his lips briefly on Dimitriâs head.Â
âItâs becoming easier to stay in the moment,â Dimitriâs words were slow but sure, like he was discovering this thought for himself as well. âWith you. Stay in the moment with me, Dedue.â
Dedue smiled against his hair. âYes, Dimitri.â
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Fandom: Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Ship: Hubert/Bernadetta
Tags: Social anxiety, school dances, academy phase
also on ao3
When Bernadetta doesn't show up for the dance, Edelgard sends Hubert to go and get her. Bernadetta learns there is more to Hubert than she had once feared.
Written for the @fictober-event prompt: "It's not too late, let's go."
also on ao3
Bernadetta was feeling lonely.
She knew that it was her own problem. That she could have worked up the courage to go with the others. After all the other girls in the Black Eagles had managed to bring her along to get dresses for the event. They even gave her some advice on make-up and hair. Dorothea did her best to try a makeover on Bernadetta, but the young girl got too anxious and had run off during the middle of it. She heard snickers and whispers about her half-finished look, hair half up and eyeshadow only on one eyelid. Some people said that of course she looked like a clown. She would never be as pretty as the other girls here. Bernadetta had curled up in her bed and cried that night. How cruel could people be? But maybe it was her fault. She was the one who got too nervous to let Dorothea finished and ran off. If she had stayed and let her finish, maybe, maybe....
Bernadetta let out a small whine, tucking her head further against her knees, trying to make herself as small as possible. It didn't matter. It wasn't as if anyone would miss her there. Even if the other Black Eagle students noticed her absence, there was so much going on, they were certain to get distracted by the festivities. Bernadetta just knew that it had to be loud and crowded, filled with people talking and dancing and pressed close together. The mere thought of it made her feel anxious. So there was no way she could actually do there and participate.
Some part of her, deep in her mind, there was a voice that said she was being foolish for missing out on this opportunity, and she'd regret not taking the plunge one day. That she couldn't always be a scared little girl, hiding herself away. Or maybe she could until she became so small and unnoticeable she'd disappear. Bernadetta didn't think that would be such a bad fate. Perhaps her family would be happy if she just never came home. Bernadetta sniffled, upset by the thought, but not wanting to admit to it. She had accepted things as they were. Nothing could change because she couldn't change. She was pathetic, but at least she could be left alone.
A sharp rapt at her door startled Bernadetta, letting out a squeak and tucking herself further together as if she could just make herself disappear.
There was silence for a minute, and she began to wonder if the person left or made a mistake. After all who'd be knocking at her door at a time like this. But then it came again, steady and firm. Like they were in no rush, but wanted to be sure that they were heard. Bernadetta remained as she was, curled up tightly into a ball. If she didn't do anything, maybe the person would get bored and go away.
"Bernadetta."
The voice was clear despite speaking through the door. Bernadetta recognized it immediately, and it only made her more terrified. Why was he here? Was he taking this opportunity to come here and kill Bernadetta? Or do something terrible while everyone else was away? This night just had to get worse and worse for her. She felt like she was going to cry any second now, wishing and praying that he would just leave. He would just go away and let her be. Surely he'd want to rush back to Edelgard's side as soon as he could. But if he was here to do something wicked, who knew how long he'd wait.
"Bernadetta. I know you're in there."
Bernadetta let out a small whine, praying harder and harder for some relief. Was this really how she was going to go? She really thought she'd have a little fanfare, but maybe she was expecting too much.
"Bernadetta."
He sounded so angry. Like venom was dripping on her name each time. She was worried that he might just get the door unlocked and opened. After all, he was a crafty man. Bernadetta knew that one of the dorm's wooden doors wouldn't be enough to stop him if he really wanted to get in.
There was the sound of muttering that the door muffled and another knock. Then silence. Bernadetta waited, daring not to hope that maybe he finally gave up. It wouldn't be the first time after all. The seconds ticked by and continued to with no sound that he was still out there. Minutes passed, or at least she assumed they did. And finally did she start to relax. She uncurled herself, looking towards the door with concern but hope. One foot off the bed and then another. But it was all in vain, the relief that she was going to be left alone. The door handle jiggled. Bernadetta let out another squeak, diving back into the corner of her bed.
"Go away Hubert!"
She finally managed to speak, her voice several pitches higher than it normally was. The handle stopped moving, and she could hear what sounded like a sigh and more muttering.
"Lady Edelgard sent me to get you."
Edelgard sent him? To get her? That didn't make any sense. Why would she do that? Perhaps she felt it only proper to make sure everyone was there and Bernadetta's absence was causing some kind of problem. She felt awful about that, but there was no way she could bring herself to attend. She'd have to ask for forgiveness later and take whatever punishment came with it.
"She's worried about you."
"Liar."
Bernadetta didn't mean to say that. She tensed and watched the door. For a second she thought maybe he was gone, but then the worst possible thing happened. The door opened. In strolled Hubert, the same dour and terrifying expression on his face. He didn't move too far into the room, the darkness of the outside still covering him in shadows. Bernadetta thought she might pass out from how lightheaded and terrified she felt. Every part of her was screaming at her. Was this it? Was this the end for her?
"You shouldn't say such things about Lady Edelgard. She is not lying about her concern."
"Why does she care?"
"I asked myself that too." There was a look of disdain on his face, but a flicker of curiosity as well. He remained where he was, watching her. It made her feel sick to be under such an intense gaze. "But I am not one to question her. Get dressed and ready. I will take you myself back to the-"
"No." Her voice came out small. She was so afraid, trembling and trying to hide, but she couldn't let him do this to her. She was safe here, even with his presence.
"No?"
"No, I can't."
If he didn't seem annoyed before, he certainly was now. Hubert took a step and then another. Bernadetta eyes went wide.
"I am sure you are perfectly capable of at least attending the dance. Are you ill?"
"Yes. I'm feeling really sick." It wasn't entirely a lie, although her symptoms were a product of her anxiety and less of an actual illness. She let out another squeak, nearly banging her head against the back of the wall when Hubert was suddenly in front of her, placing a hand on her forehead. She had no idea how he was going to take her temperature when he was wearing gloves, but she was too frozen in fear to really point that out. She glanced away, trying to avoid his gaze. Was her face growing hotter? Maybe she was getting sick after all. That would be just perfect. But whether by accident or a sudden and unexpected curiosity, Bernadetta looked back at him. Their eyes locked for a brief moment and Bernadetta felt like she could turn to ash in his gaze. She tried to move away, shoving at him. Desperate to flee like some small animal having been trapped by a predator. Hubert grabbed one of her arms.
"You can't hide forever. One day we'll be out of here and what will you do then?"
"I'll figure it out." Bernadetta frowned. "You're hurting me."
Hubert immediately released her and took a step back. Bernadetta took this as a chance to tuck herself back in the corner. "I never knew we had such a coward in the Black Eagles."
"You're right. I am. Now please leave me alone."
Hubert did not leave her alone, his gaze now flitting about the room. It came to rest on the closet and he opened the door. Inside was the dress that Bernadetta had gotten. Like the makeover, she was pressured into finding one. This one was rather modest, long skirt and long sleeves. Dark shades of purple and back. She had loved it, but there was no way she was going to be able to wear it. Hubert grabbed it and moved back over to her. Bernadetta looked at the dress as if he was presenting her with a knife or poison.
"You can stand in the corner if you want to. But you are going to attend."
"Isn't it a little late? I am sure it's mostly over by this point."
"It's not too late, let's go."
Bernadetta frowned, taking the dress from him, but still unsure of what to do. She looked up at him, his expression the same as ever. But he hadn't left. He hadn't done anything particularly cruel either, besides unlocking her door and insulting her. She had feared much worse. Yet it seemed like he wasn't going to let her stay here. Maybe it would be better to just do as he said, knowing it was Edelgard who really requested her presence.
"Why do you care?"
"I don't." His words were quick and easy, cutting right through her. She winced. Then in a softer voice, "It'd be a waste of a beautiful dress."
She watched as he exited the room, shutting the door behind him. She knew that he was going to wait outside of it. Maybe she could find a way to barricade the door? Then she could finish out her night in peace. Yet.... yet she found herself getting off her bed and changing. There was little she could do about her make-up or hair besides the basics, but Bernadetta was sure no one would really care or notice. If she made herself small enough and hide away. Finally, she opened the door. She stared off into the night, filled with more anxiety than she felt she could handle. Hubert glanced at her, something in his eyes unreadable.
"Presentable."
He then walked off, expecting her to follow. She was smiling a little, unsure as to why. It wasn't as if he was complimenting her and Bernadetta wasn't sure if she wanted him to. That felt.... strange. But he was right. She wasn't too late. And even if she did hide herself away, well. She had a nice time.
What is AU-gust? It stands for Alternate Universe August, and it is a creative challenge for everyone. Writers, artists, fans; anyone can join! Be sure to check out our FAQ for more answers! Join us on Twitter, AO3, Discord and under the tags #au gust and #au gust 2023.
Special thanks to @yaoyorozoops for creating the wonderful graphics!
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ROLL FOR NOVEL is a small game about generating story ideas! Over the course of a few dice rolls you will have a main character, a setting, a central plot, and more~
Serving Almyran pine needle tea as she always had.
Sitting across from him as she always had.
But he was so young now. Not the man with graying hair and crow's feet she had left behind. And she was back to her deep blue hair, knowing that she would go back to the goddess green in the near future.
It was selfish of her to do this. To continue to seek his attention when they were on different paths now. But she would always remember she chose him first. And the choice was not wrong. How could it be? She knew it was the best version of Fodlan she would see and experience and she was so endlessly grateful that she got to live through it all with Claude by her side.
"I know you're intense, teach, but you gotta stop staring," he said it with a smile, his little lopsided smirk that made her want to cry because she missed him so much. But she always excelled at hiding her thoughts, her emotions. She could cry later, like she had on her first night back to this era. She didn't think it would be so hard to see everyone again.
"I'm sorry, Claude," she took a deep breath and tried again. "Happy birthday. I hope this is okay?"
He made a noise of disbelief, one she knew well, something he always did when she was being too modest. "Are you kidding me? It's great! I've never had this tea before, but I think it might be my favorite."
Byleth smiled back at him. She knew it was his favorite. It was still his favorite in the future. It was the last thing he drank before he died. She wished she could erase it all. "Hmm, lucky guess."
"Nah, you're something else, teach." He grabbed a small cookie off the plate in between them, glancing away in thought.
She could hear it in his voice, he was beginning to be genuine with her. Again. What was she doing?
"I think you made a mistake when you didn't pick Golden Deer house." His eyes twinkled in mischief, but he kept his gaze on her waiting for a response.
She didn't know what to say. It was so hard to tell Rhea that she wanted to teach the Black Eagles house. It was impossibly difficult because she knew every single person in Golden Deer and they were all still her close friends in the future, still so hopeful and good. Of course she wanted to do it all over again.
But she made a promise to her Claude. Not this Claude before her, but the Claude that was her husband, the Claude she grew old with, the Claude that united Fodlan and Almyra. Her Claude. As his life ebbed away, she told him that she would go back, turn back the world and try again. Try for less bloodshed, try for less death, try to keep the students of Garreg Mach from slaughtering each other.
So here she was, trying again. Staring back at the boy who would become the man who united the world. And she knew what to say. "I didn't pick Golden Deer house because they already have a great leader. You don't need me."
Those words held so much more meaning to her. You don't need me. She couldn't be selfish, she couldn't tell him that maybe she needed him. Because she knew Claude could still change the world without her.
He was quiet for a second, waiting for her to finish the joke. When nothing followed he stretched and chuckled, trying to diffuse the seriousness of Byleth's words. "I think you're just imagining things, teach."
"No, you have something that Dimitri and Edelgard don't," she paused to lean back in her chair, to give Claude room to breathe, to not scare him away. "And that's going to get you so much farther, Claude."
"Hmm. I'll think about that." He didn't seem entirely convinced, but his eyes softened as he looked at Byleth, betraying how pleased he was at the compliment.
She smiled back. Even if she couldn't be his professor, advisor, or confidant, she would at least try to prop him up in any way she could. She wasn't strong enough to deny herself that.
"Well, thanks for the birthday tea." Claude got up, snatching a few cookies in his hand for later. "I'll see you later."
"Yeah." Just a wave, a friendly goodbye. She wondered if it would get easier. But Byleth acknowledged that it was the pain that kept her memories alive, even if their timeline didn't exist anymore.
There is no distance between you and him. He can feel the air smoldering around you, while your words ring in his ear. What is worth living for?
Fuck, maybe it'd be easy to spit out the words: this is what's worth living for. But he doesn't know what this is, what you're doing and why he feels like this, jittering with nerves he didn't think he had anymore.
He sees you move minutely and he wonders if you're going to kiss him. It would be his first, but he would keep that fact to himself. Revenge is hardly an emotion to share a stage with any others, not that anyone had come close since the destruction of his village. But you had come along at just the right time, asking the right questions, making him wonder what else there could be.
But no, you bring your hand up to his nose and pinch it, a small smile cracking on your face. "What a face you're making. What's going on in that head of yours, Brakka?"
He immediately frowns and bats your hand away, taking a giant step back, away from your wily charms. "Tch, get out of here. Feel free to not drop in next time you're in Argene." He feels the blush creeping up on his face, how could he think that? You are only associates, and that's all you'll ever be, all you ever should be. He turns around to avoid your soul-prying eyes and puts his hand up in a definitive goodbye, expecting that to be the end of this awful encounter.
But it's not.
He hears your boots take a few steps up the stairs before hesitating and then quickly pattering back down. Next thing he knows there's a hand holding his and words come tumbling out of your mouth.
"I'm glad we're doing this together. Not just the Hollowed, all of it." You squeeze his hand. "I'll see you soon."
Then the boots return up the stairs and into the inn, leaving him in silence. He flexes the hand that you grabbed before leaning on it against the table, returning to his Hollowed research.
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mini femslashfeb 2023 (scenario edition) prompt list
here's the prompt list for femslashfeb 2023 for the early birds! once again, I'm just doing this for fun but if youâd like to participate on any day with any prompts, please feel free!!
âŹď¸ full text version of prompts under the cut âŹď¸
First time meeting
Accidentally touched your hand
âI like hearing your thoughtsâ
âOne more word on this topic and Iâll kill youâ
Came to the rescue!
Oh My God They Were Roommates
So we meet again
âDamn, dude, you live like this?â
Itâs Time For Crime
Making music together
âGirl helpâ
âGet in loser weâre going shoppingâ
Sharing secrets
Hit me with your best shot!
âHaha get pranked broâ
Youâre gonna wish we never met
Pep talk
âGo to sleep!â
Letâs mess this town up, babe! <3
Get you a girl that can do both
âThis reminded me of youâ
âThere is something deeply wrong with youâ
Rats! Foiled Again!
âGot into your nerd activity because I love youâ
Welcome to Fluffy February 2023! Back for a third year, we want to spread fluff and good feelings throughout all of February.
This year, weâre reverting to the one-prompt-a-day format from 2021. As in previous years, no one is obliged to write/draw/create every single day â do as many as you want! The official guidelines are posted here.
Above the cut are the one-word prompts.  Below the cut, Iâve included some phrases and suggestions in case the one-word prompt isnât stirring something creatively. You are totally free to reinterpret the prompt in a different way; the stuff below the cut is just to help someone out of block if needed. Please tag @fluffyfebruaryââ so we can reblog your creations!
They're closer than they've been in a long time. Pallegina forgot what it was like to be around her. Magnetic, comfortable, soothing, she had a way with people, with knowing what they wanted, what they needed, and giving it to them, propping them up and keeping them whole. Pallegina was no exception.
But despite their closeness in the Dyrwood, the time they spent apart changed things. And it scared her. The archipelago may have been the watcherâs birthplace but she never thought she would ever see her in Neketaka. So when she saw her, she made her quickest excuse to get away.
But there was no getting away now. They were on her ship, in her captain's quarters, sailing to find her oldest friend and mentor, and she felt the meaning of that in her throat.
It would be easy to cry now, if she could.
The watcher scoots closer to her on the bed, her warm hand coming to rest on her cheek, her fingertips just brushing the bottoms of her feathers. "You're important to me, Pallegina."
She feels the birds in her heart chitter away and she needs to be sure, because she's never felt this before, she has nothing to compare it to. She needs to know. "Be straightforward with me," she says without a waver in her voice. Her hand closes around the watchers as she awaits an answer, pressing the other woman's palm flat against her cheek so she could feel the searing reminder of affection.
"Okay," she smiles, her face moving closer and closer, closing the distance. "I want to be near you always, I want you by my side, I want to kiss you."
"Then do it." Pallegina isn't even sure that she feels the same devotion that those few words seemed to hold, but she wants to find out. She wants to match her, blow for blow, and see how they both turn out on the other side.
She closes her eyes and waits until she feels the soft press of lips on her own. She doesn't know to reciprocate, but the watcher isn't perturbed. She slowly moves up her face, kissing her cheeks and brow, her chin and her neck, where skin becomes feathers and feathers become skin. When the watcher returns to her lips, Pallegina doesn't let her escape her grasp again, she pushes forward to meet her in the middle.
â
She could not believe what was happening. She fought so hard, her sword fiery and ruthless as she pivoted between different members of the crew. Other godlikes, just like her. People who suffered like her. There's not enough of them to make a difference, but how many lives did a pirate crew of godlikes change? How many did they save from certain harm? How could she so easily tear down a community that was her own? And small enough to fit in the palm of her hand?
But Giacolo only wanted to help. Sweet, tireless Giacolo. Now his soul begins its journey back to the wheel. And Pallegina is left to witness and remember.
She begins to walk to his body, it's not like she's never seen a dead body before. But the familiarity of it, the finality of it, hits her hard. The watcher stands quietly beside her, all she wants to do is turn and push her face into her neck. To let the tears flow unhindered, to be held while she breaks apart for just a moment, only to be rebuilt again stronger than before.
But everyone else is there. She takes a deep breath and turns away. "Let's go," she croaks out.
â
Pallegina manages to keep it inside herself until they leave Dunnage, despite its attempts to flitter out of her with each deep breath, shaking and sharp. She collapses on the watcherâs bed in the captainâs quarters, trying not to think of Giacoloâs face when they arrived, the hope she saw in his eyes. It hurts so badly, it burns in her throat and behind her eyes and she keeps rubbing her face, wanting the feelings to leave her behind.
She sheds her armor haphazardly and curls up close to the wall, screwing her eyes shut. If she could just sleep, she wouldnât feel like this anymore. She wouldnât feel like such a failure.
Itâs not long before night falls and the room is pitch black. Palleginaâs keen ears pick up the watcherâs footsteps before she enters, the light of candle glowing softly against the walls. The bed dips and she has to bite back the urge to push the other woman away, to deny her the satisfaction of seeing her vulnerable like this.
âI brought you some food,â she whispers, her warm fingers trace behind her ear and down her neck and the tenderness almost drowns her, battering against the walls that hold everything in and keep the rest out.
When Pallegina doesnât move, the watcher tries again. She sets the plate aside and lays down behind her, scooping her up in her arms and pulling her close. âIs this okay?â What is she supposed to say to that? She doesnât know. Is it okay? Sheâs grieved on her own, she always has, whatâs the point of sharing it with someone else? Will it make it easier? Will it make it harder? Sheâs too tired to keep asking questions. So she just pulls the watcherâs hands from her waist and up to her chest, covering them with her own.
They lay like that for a while while Pallegina focuses on her breathing and keeping her mind blessedly blank. She focuses on the way her knees feel against the rough boards that make the ship walls, she focuses on the way her face smushes against the linen pillow, and she focuses on the way her back presses against the watcher and how she could feel her breathing too.
âAfter you left,â the watcher says into her neck, removing her hand from Palleginaâs. âI collected Giacoloâs research and I found this in his things.â Her palm returns in front of her face, holding a pendant on a silver chain. âI thought youâd want to have it.â
Oh. Pallegina finally cracks, like a dam bursting with spring run-off. She grabs the pendant and clutches it against her forehead as sobs wrack her body. Something to remember him by. She saw his face and he thought she could save him. But she couldn't. Not even with the watcher by her side. She's never cried so much before. She never felt like tears did much of anything, but this right now felt like agony. And maybe she's so used to her own loss and tragedy, that witnessing someone else's, someone she admired and even loved, was too much. Giacolo didn't deserve this. But did she?
The watcher holds her until she's quiet again, the exhaustion catching up to her, making sleep finally, mercifully attainable.
She looks completely unfazed. "Maneha yes. Is this not the ultimate way to repay the world for what I've done? This could be it, the answer I've been waiting for."
You rush toward her, grabbing her crossed arms, ripping them apart so you could hold her hands in yours. "You didn't do that! There's nothing to repay!" You bite your lip to stop the oncoming tears, your throat tightens and so do your hands. "Stay with me. Please."
Maneha smiles at you, sweet and uncomplicated. "No one else is jumping at the chance to go."
"We'll draw straws-"
She pulls you to her, encasing you in her warm arms, placing a kiss on top of your head. "That's not right. It's gotta be me."
This can't be it. This can't be the way it ends for you and her. It's not fucking fair. But nothing ever is. You nod your head and pull away with a shaky breath. "I love you, you know?"
Maneha smiles wider and nods. "I love you too." She rips the hammer out of your hands and pushes you towards Zahua, already turning and walking toward the mother crystal. "Run fast!" she called behind her.
You're moving, Zahua pushing you ahead as Maneha's hits ring true, the bell begins to toll.
â
You're gasping cold and wet, everyone else is dry but you're not alone. Lagufaeth shimmer beneath the surface, a dark mass between them.
They surface and one hisses, "Debts repaid." And they push Maneha's too-cold body to the shore beside you.
The numbness prickling at your finger didn't matter, you crawled on top of her, trying to warm her with your own lack of body heat. "Maneha," you whispered but it felt like a yell. "Maneha. Maneha." You put your ear to her chest and you hear it, a faint and drawn out heartbeat.
Durance pushes through the others to begin casting his last spell of the night to warm you all enough to make the journey back to Stalwart.
It's the softest his deep voice has ever sounded. You were surprised you heard it over the clack-clack-clack of your teeth and the constant shivers wracking your body. You turned in your meager blanket to face him.
Completely unperturbed by the cold chill of the White March, the fresh blanket of snow just outside the mouth of the shallow cave you all were attempting to sleep in, he lay shirtless as usual, his own meager blanket wadded up behind his head.
He looked at you for a long while, probably thinking of how to tell you that your constitution was abysmal and all this discomfort was just in your head. But instead he said this, "It's taken me a long time to conquer the elements."
You just nodded in response.
"Let Zahua help you conquer them tonight." He opened his arms and motioned for you to move beside him.
If you could feel your face, you thought it would heat up in that moment. Trying not to think too hard about it, you scooted closer until your head rested on his chest, his arm securely around you, pulling you into his inhuman warmth. You pressed your cold nose to him and he didn't even flinch. "Thank you, Zahua."
He hummed, seemingly completely content. He let his head fall next to yours and his breaths evened out, and yours quickly followed.
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day 31 of @flufftoberâ: sweet treat
the quarry
gn!reader x travis hackett
note: takes place sometime after camp starts but before it ends.
It was another hot Sunday afternoon, and there wasnât a better day to set up shop and serve iced tea, lemonade, and popsicles to the campers and counselors. Chris agreed to go in half with you on the supplies, so you shut down the bed-and-breakfast for the day and headed up to spend time at Hackettâs Quarry.
It was the early afternoon but most of the kids already grabbed their drinks and popsicles from you and headed down to the lake, with Ryan trailing behind to talk with Chris and Kaylee. You pulled out a book to read on your well-loved camping chair while you waited for the kids to get tired and come back for more refreshments.
You were a few pages from the next chapter when a shadow was cast over your table. Lifting up your sunglasses, you saw Travis still in his sheriff uniform, hands on his hips, surveying your chalkboard menu. It had been awhile since youâve seen him, longer than you hoped, but you understood that the responsibility of small town sheriffs was time consuming. Regardless, he looked good, despite how hot it was. âHey, sheriff.â
âTravis,â he looked to the side as he said it, trying to give an air of nonchalance to the request.
âMm-hmm, Travis then.â You put your book down and got up to lean against the table. âWhat can I get you?â Â
âDo you take off-menu requests?â
âNot usually,â you pause for effect, a grin sneaking its way onto your face, âbut for you, Iâll do it.â
Travis looked away again with a smile, and when he looked back to you, he looked tired but happy and it was infectious. You donât know what changed in the months since you first got here, but he wasnât the drab, irritable guy you met when your tires got stuck in the snow.
âAlright, do you know Arnold?â
âArnold Palmer? Of course. Is that what youâre drinking?â you asked, already grabbing a cup and turning to fill it with ice.
âYeah. And whatever youâre having.â
âWhatever Iâm having?â
âYes,â he paused, and you resisted the urge to turn around immediately and spill the iced tea you were pouring into his cup everywhere. âI was thinking we could go for a walk. If you want.â
You felt your face heating up, the butterflies filling up your stomach in excitement. You tried to focus, pouring lemonade to fill the rest of the cup, throwing in the straw, and presenting it to Travis. âYeah, Iâd like that,â you smiled at him, trying to catch his dark eyes but they were evasive, never resting on you for too long. âIâll make it a double then.â
You quickly made a second Arnold Palmer while Travis asked Kaylee to help make drinks for the kids while the two of you were gone. You saw Chris say something to his brother, clapping him on the shoulder and laughing, then waving him off towards you.
âYou two have fun,â Kaylee teased as she took a seat in your chair. You shook your head and rolled your eyes, jogging ahead to catch up to Travis.
âWhat did Chris think was so funny?â
He took a sip of his drink instead of answering immediately. âThis is really good.â
âThanks. Zested and squoze the lemons myself.â
Travis was quiet for another moment as you walked through the sunlit forest, it really was perfect here. Except for all the bugs that feasted on your unprotected skin.
âChris laughed because this is the first time Iâve visited the camp in a long time. Especially during a lunch break.â
âYou heard there was lemonade and iced tea and you had to get down here, is that it?â you offered with a laugh.
âSomething like that.â
âWell, you can come to the B ânâ B anytime you want, and Iâll make us some Arnold Palmers.â
âLemons are hard to find in Northkill.â
âDonât I know it? I guess weâd have to make a day of it.â You tried to catch his eye, to help imply your meaning. You wanted to spend time with him, time where he wasnât wearing his uniform, where he could just be Travis and maybe you could pry open his shell just a little bit more.
âCareful what you ask for,â it sounded a little strangled coming out of his mouth, like he was forcing himself to say it.
You stopped suddenly and grabbed his free hand so Travis would turn to face you, to have nowhere else to look but you. âI know exactly what Iâm asking for. Look, Iâve been single for a while, but I canât be that out of practice. Thereâs something here, isnât there?â
âItâs not that simple.â He looked despondent and dark again, the way he was when you first met him. You wanted to grab his shoulders and shake it out of him, he canât just close up and hide away when he was the one who came here. He was the one who asked you on a walk. He must want this at least as much as you, right?
Travis looked down at your hand in his and he ran his thumb across your fingers, so you did the same. When he didnât move away, you pulled him forward so you could keep walking, trying to collect your thoughts and put them into words.
âWe can keep it simple,â you said after a few minutes of silence. âWe each have our own lives, youâre the sheriff, I run a bed and breakfast by myself, but thereâs no reason we canât spend our downtime with each other. Even if itâs only once in a while.â
He sighs, a range of emotions crossing his face. Frustration. Resentment. Guilt, maybe? You werenât sure what to make of it, so you squeezed his hand in reassurance.
The trail broke way to a small clearing and a rocky outcropping that dipped into the lake. Travis steered you toward a large boulder you could both sit on in the shade. In the distance you could see where the campers were hanging out, wading into the water, and sitting on the small pier.
âHow long do you have?â you questioned, sipping the last of your drink and setting it in the gravel beside you.
âNot long.â This question seemed to spur him on, he only had so long with you, afterall. And if you two left this in uncertainty, it might never happen. He leaned forward so his elbows rested on his thighs, his hands clasped together. âSometimes I get pulled away for long periods of time. For work. For family.â
You nodded, mirroring his position so you could look at him while he spoke.
âAnd sometimes youâll have questions I canât answer.â
Well, that was a new one. You gave him a puzzled expression, but he didnât elaborate any further. You werenât fond of secrets.
âAnd I suppose I canât ask what kind of questions.â
He shook his head.
You stared out at the water in front of you, the way it quietly lapped at the shore. It was consistent, like a heartbeat. Not even the children who disturbed it a few hundred feet away could interrupt its steady rhythm. You didn't know what Travis was talking about, and it sounded like you never will, at least from him. But if you two could share something steady and strong like waves in the lake shore, then maybe it was okay. And if it ever got to be too much, then you could break things off. It would be okay. You've always been okay.
You gently laid a hand on his knee. "Let's try it."
Travis backed away until he looked at you and saw the seriousness in your face, and maybe the hope there too. He covered his hand with yours and smiled as you scooted closer to him. "Yeah?"
day 27 of @flufftoberâ: reunion
pillars of eternity
f!watcher x the devil of caroc
The watcher expertly weaved her way through the throngs of people within the walls of Caed Nua. What was once a normal day now turned bittersweet, but only she knew that. Everyone else carried on as they should, waving to her as she passed by, her feet never stopping until she reached the eastern gate.
There, a sea green statue kneeled amongst the dirt and grass, the guards nearby eyeing her warily. Though she was a friend of the lady, they knew who the Devil of Caroc was.
âWatcher.â The Devilâs voice was faint with soul-deep exhaustion and her neck grating as she raised her head. Gone was her golden brown sheen, only a rough patina left in its place.
âDevil.â She missed no time dropping down beside her, placing a tentative hand on her shoulder. âWhat happened to you?â
âDonât you like it? Everyone in Readceras couldnât take their eyes off me.â She knew a deflective joke when she heard one.
âRight. I like it if you like it. Can you walk?â
There was a long pause before the Devil spoke again, like she was building herself up to admit the words. âYes, but itâs not easy.â
âCan I carry you?â As the question left her mouth, she wished that she could see what was going through the Devilâs mind, that she could move the features on her face to help her understand what she was feeling. But she could only guess by the tone of her voice, and perhaps by the lack of movement in her body.Â
Another few moments passed and the watcher was beginning to think something was really wrong, but she could still feel her soul pulsing, undulating inside her automaton body. She was still there.Â
Then came a heavy sigh followed by, âYep, just do it.â
The watcher smiled at her as she scooped up her kneeling form in her arms and turned back toward Brighthollow. She tried not to show too much excitement, she was sure that it was her fault that the Devil left after defeating Thaos in the first place. After Whitemarch, her fondness for the automaton may have been too evident, bordering on smothering. Especially for someone who lacked human companionship for so long.
On their way inside the keep, she stopped at the kitchens and requested a bowl of vinegar and salt paste as well as some cloths be brought to her chambers. The women closest looked from the watcher to the Devil and back again, âPerhaps the armory would have better supplies for you, Lady.â
The watcher shook her head and smiled again, âLetâs try this first.â
The woman nodded and they continued on their way, the watcher chuckled as she ascended the stairs. âI forgot how heavy you are.â
âItâs all muscle, watcher,â Devil replied without missing a beat. Her hollow tone was still there, but her quickness gave the watcher hope.
When they reached her room, the watcher set the Devil of Caroc down in the plush chair by the fireplace. The fire was already crackling, the light dancing off of Devilâs deep obsidian eyes as she slowly shifted into a shifting position, her head falling back against the chair.
âHow are you feeling? Does this,â she trailed off, unsure what sensations applied to an automaton body. âDoes this hurt?â
âNo, it doesnât hurt,â came her reply, the watcher imagined she watched her as she kneeled beside her chair and touched the patina on her calf. âIâm just tired. Itâs exhausting to move.â
Just then, two women entered bearing a large bowl of tan paste and cloths of varying abrasiveness. The watcher thanked them and had them close the door on their way out.
âWhere should I start?â She looked up to her, waiting for an answer.
âMy feet, my knees, I want to walk,â her voice sounded hard, like she was trying to not to remember how difficult it was to not be able to do things, like walk around, like hold her bow, like pick a lock.Â
The watcher nodded and began dismantling the complex joints of her toes and ankle. She had done this twice before. Once in Whitemarch after the Devil fell into a hot spring while they were fighting lagufaeth and she wanted to make sure she was completely dry afterward. The second time was in Twin Elms, it was pouring rain, and the Devil got mud caked all over her feet and knees, and the watcher was there again to dismantle her, clean her, and put her back together again. She remembered how nervous she felt saying the words, âIâll always be here when you need me.â And she remembered how the Devil laughed and joked that she was better than Galvino, but that that wasnât a high bar to clear.
âIâm glad youâre here,â she tried not to look at the Devil as she said it, turning to reach for her bag of tiny tools that were good at popping out tiny ball bearings. âI missed you.â
âYeah,â she paused, turning her head toward the fire. âI didnât know I was going to miss you too.â
The watcher grinned widely, wiping paste on the ankle joint in her hand and placing it carefully amongst the other ankle pieces. âAww, you missed me. Youâre going soft.â
âShut up.â
They were silent for a while as the watcher focused on removing parts of the Devilâs leg and occasionally sitting back on her haunches to explain what the rest of their companions were up to. As much as it hurt to recount it, the Devil of Caroc was the first to leave and everyone followed her. They had other callings that could not be pursued at Caed Nua. But everyoneâs rooms were still here, for the occasional visit. âEven yours.â
âYouâre too sentimental,â the Devil informed her. The watcher laughed but she went on, seriousness in her voice. âI wasnât planning on coming back, you know.â
The watcher stopped and sighed heavily. âI figured. After you left so abruptly, without saying goodbye.â She remembered it perfectly. It was the beginning of the end and it hurt the most. She knew everyone else would be okay, they said their goodbyes, there was some degree of finality. But with the Devil, it was nothing, it was sudden.
âI didnât know what I wanted.âÂ
âAnd I wouldâve helped youââ
âBut that was something I needed to do on my own and you didnât fucking get that.â The Devil sounded dangerous, though her face stayed a passive mask as it always did.
The watcher flinched, but kept going. It was easier to try to focus on removing the patina and restructuring the Devilâs leg than let the feelings bubble up from months ago. âThen did you find it? What you wanted?â It came out as a whisper.
âI walked and walked and walked,â she repeated, the venom leaving her voice in increments. âAnd I made it to the ocean. And it was beautiful. I tried to die there in the water, I tried to leave this stupid body to become something different. I tried so hard.â Her voice wavered like she was going to cry, not that her stone eyes would leak a drop. The watcher looked up at her again and she was still staring into the fire unmoving. âBut I kept thinking of you. I think itâs your fault that Iâm still here. Trapped.â
âDevilâŚâÂ
âNo, shut up, let me finish. I thought revenge was keeping me here, but I killed all those fucking bastards, and Iâm still here. We killed Thaos and Iâm still here. I walked into the ocean and Iâm still here. If Iâm going to be stuck here, I should at least be with someone I can tolerate. So here I am.â
The watcher felt her heart in her throat. She tried to keep her hands from shaking as she reattached a freshly cleaned bronze leg to the rest of the Devilâs patinated body. âYou flatter me, Devil,â she tried to sound nonchalant to lighten the air, but her unsteady voice betrayed her. So she grabbed the other womanâs unfeeling hand in hers and continued, âI would love for you to stay. But I never want you to feel trapped here. You can come and go as you please. Just, please, if youâre leaving for good, tell me.â
The Devil nodded slowly, her neck joints grating softly against each other. âOkay.â