#winter event

transcription below:

...There. You should be good now.

Woohoo! I'm online!

"Overkill?" Why'd you name your blog that?

Cause I'm overing my kills.

That doesn't make any sense.

suna’s hand is wrapped loosely around yours inside his pocket. it’s warm. steady. casual… except not really.

every few steps, you feel him glance at you.

and then—

click.

you nearly jump. “rin.”

“what?”

“you didn’t even warn me.”

“didn’t need to,” he says, lifting his phone slightly. “you looked good already.”

you squint. “you’ve taken three pictures in the last thirty seconds.”

“four,” he corrects, taking another.

“rintaro!”

he smirks — slow, lazy, smug — but there’s a softness in his eyes that ruins the faux-indifference completely.

“I’m documenting our date,” he says simply.

“you’re stalking me with an iPhone.”

“mm,” he tilts his head, pretending to think, “that’s just a side benefit.”

you elbow him gently. he huffs a laugh, arm tightening around yours as he pulls you closer, steam rising from the both of you in the cold.

the two of you wander through a small winter market — mugs of hot cocoa steaming in your hands, holiday music drifting through the air. suna barely looks at the booths, too busy pointing his camera at you whenever you turn toward a string light or smile at something cute.

you try to glare at him.

it doesn’t work.

he tilts your chin with one finger. “don’t look at me like that. I’m gonna take more.”

“you’re impossible.”

“and you’re pretty,” he counters, pressing a quick kiss to your temple, “unfortunate combination for my storage capacity.”

you blush so hard he has the audacity to take a picture of that too.

eventually, you wander into the small indoor arcade connected to the market — warm, loud, glowing with pink neon.

and there it is. the photobooth.

“no,” you say immediately.

“yes,” suna answers at the same time.

“rin—”

he’s already guiding you toward it.

“come on,” he murmurs, voice low near your ear. “we need at least one normal picture of us. for the records.”

“you’ll just make a stupid face.”

“no,” he says, opening the curtain, “you will. which is why I’m controlling the timing.”

you roll your eyes, but step inside anyway. the booth smells faintly of old velvet and sugar from the cotton candy stand outside. suna sits close beside you — too close — thigh pressed to yours, arm draped behind your shoulders as he feeds coins into the slot.

the screen flickers.

3… 2… 1…

the first photo is perfect — you smiling, him looking at you like the rest of the world blurred out.

then the second countdown starts.

suna turns his head the instant the timer hits 2. you feel his breath on your cheek.

“smile.”

“rin—”

click.

you’re laughing, half turning toward him, surprised.

the third timer begins.

he catches your hand and threads your fingers with his.

click.

your laugh turns bright, eyes half-closed, suna leaning in closer.

fourth timer.

he watches your expression shift — softening, warming — and something flickers across his own face.

click.

his nose brushes yours.

final frame.

there’s no warning. no pause. no hesitation.

he cups your jaw and kisses you — slow, warm, full — the kind of kiss that fills the tiny booth with something glowing and quiet and alive.

you don’t hear the shutter at all.

when the strip prints, you hold it between you both in the neon light.

first photo: normal. second: laughing. third: hands laced. fourth: gentle almost-kiss. fifth: kissing, fully, completely, beautifully.

you look up at him. he’s already looking at you.

“you’re ridiculous,” you murmur.

he leans down again, pressing a tiny kiss just beneath your jaw.

“you’re gorgeous,” he murmurs back. “and now I have proof.”

you swat at him lightly. he catches your wrist, pulling you into his side as you walk out of the booth into the warm arcade glow.

and, of course, he lifts his phone.

click.

“rin!”

“what? lighting’s good.”

“stop taking pictures of me!”

“no.”

your heart flips. your cheeks warm. and suna — endlessly annoyingly, devastatingly gentle — kisses the side of your head as he murmurs:

“if I could save this whole night forever, I would.”

──────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────────

Vines moved over your limbs, digging through the fabric of your clothes to bruise your skin, the flora humming with magic. Old, natural magic with a much stronger connection to Gaia than your own. Normally, that wouldn't be a problem, but when it became apparent that your own magic was bulking the rough vines, being sucked from your body like a vampire drinking your lifeforce, alarm bells went off in your head.

The magic of the forest had always been tricky, mischievous even, but never deadly. It preferred to restrain or deflect threats, confusing them with hazy mists or blocking their path with mudslides or trees weaving together. Never did it take. The forest had all it needed inhabiting its soil and branches and rivers, the creatures just as peaceful but at times mischievous as the old ancient earth around them. It was a provider, not a bringer of death.

Panic threatened to seize your heart and all you could do was press your hand to the soil and whisper soft pleas, attempting to remind the great mother that lived in all, that you were no threat. You had come with the purpose of peace and healing, not to hurt the ancient forest or take what it did not freely offer.

A pained hiss reached your ears, distant but it could very well be your own with the magic draining from you. A witch without her magic was… well it could never truly leave you but you had never heard of it being pulled from you like this. The unknown was frightening at this moment, fueling the desperation in your plea to Gaia.

“Stop it, witch! You do not deserve to ask for her help!”

Harsh unexpected words, distracting you from your task to find the source. 

What the fuck.

Shock and awe rushing through you with such a force that the vines bruising your skin and draining your magic was momentarily forgotten. All that mattered was the being that stood tall a few meters away, anger and hatred twisting his ethereal features but not taking an ounce of his beauty away. 

Red vibrant hair, obsidian eyes that shine with the soft gold flecks, more prominent with the magic he was using. A petite, perfect nose scrunched cutely and perfect teeth bared in a snarl. Translucent black wings – with red and purple veins that outlined a beautiful garden – fluttered with clear agitation the longer you stared.

It was the wings that nailed it home: a fairy. One that looked like the personification of Nature's wrath, beautiful but deadly.

Confusion joined the shock and awe you expressed. A fairy? Causing intentional harm? Unprovoked? Unheard of, thought impossible, and yet here was proof. 

The proof tightened its grip on you with a strength that was eerily close to crushing your bones if you stayed in its hold. The magic coursing through its veins matched the fairy staring you down as if you were personally responsible for some great travesty against him. 

It was getting increasingly harder to think, so you could not deny or confirm such silent accusations. “Do you intend to end my life, sweet fairy?” Despite the irony at calling him sweet, your tone gave no indication that you thought the term didn't define him. Awe and acceptance was all you gave him, as that was what you felt the most in this moment.

If you had indeed caused such a beautiful thing such harm that he deemed your life forfeit, you had no qualms giving it over. The peace cascading over you at that resignation was warm, relaxing your muscles and allowing you to succumb to the earth's grip on your body. Your only objection was that he would show mercy in the form of quickness. Slowly getting crushed into the soil beneath you would be a long and tiring process. Unless your magic ran out first and graced you with unconsciousness.

In response, the tight hold loosened, his nasally but perfect voice hissing in exasperation as if your acceptance was not what he wanted. 

Your gaze lifted up to his once more, unable to recall when your cheek had pressed against the cool dirt and rested your eyes. Abject horror was displayed on his features, confusion pulling your brows together in response. “No need to be afraid, you can take it if you must.” The heaviness of your tongue slurred your words, drool escaping and slight embarrassment flooded your cheeks. Drooling like a mess in front of such an ethereal creature? How could you?

“You are insane.” He shrilled out. 

The vines flinched back quickly into the ground as if they had been slapped away. The gold of his eyes thankfully remained despite no longer using his magic, wings still fluttering with agitation, but now you could see a sheen to his skin, like a soft shimmer, that just made him even more beautiful.

Insane? Maybe you were but you could not find it in you to care when he was just so beautiful.

You began to reevaluate if you were really unlucky for this encounter, just for him to disappear in a puff of black shimmering dust, like crushed onyx, that was quickly blown away and taken by the forest.

Yes, you were very unlucky.

Because now the fairy was gone, you were still alive, and would now have to face your master and explain why your magic reserves were on the cusp of bone dry.

✨️

Displeased was an understatement. Your teacher was absolutely furious.

It had been dark by the time your lethargic, heavy body made it back to the cottage, the elder slamming the door open before it was fully in sight, sensing your approach. The scowl on his fierce features sent a fear through you that probably should have been felt when the fairy was attempting to kill you. A reminder that you truly did not wish any harm on yourself, or your life, but that wish was nonexistent in the face of such a creature.

Despite your fear, you refrained from mentioning the fairy. Your teacher would not believe you anyways. Even with the demand for fairies for potions and spells, there had never been an instance where the creatures did more than that of the forest. Attempt to stall, delay and run, but never fight.

You were not concerned with him believing you about the Fairy’s actions, only his presence. The cottage was still too close to one of the more modernized cities for fairies to be nearby, so if he believed there was one, then he would hunt for it. Capturing and dissecting a fairy was much less work than the high prices on the market. There have been stories of some covens even threatening and selling “useless” members in exchange for fairy pieces- not even a living fairy, but just a wing or even part of one.

A disgusting aspect of magic evolution, though you disagreed with the said evolution. What was the need to discover new and more powerful spells? Mother Gaia and the fates gave all one would ever want and need as long as you respected her. The way witches have begun to treat not only fairies but the mystical beings close to Gaia was a nauseating and cruel reality.

So the knowledge of this fairy's existence would be taken to your grave, never spoken or hinted at. 

For that, you suffered a grave punishment for your folly of using too much magic to find one simple herb, angering the forest by doing so. A herb that you did bring back but far too late for your teacher's liking. 

The result was confinement and meditation. No healing for your bond deep. bruises or where your skin had blistered from the vines tightening. No change of clothes, dinner, or a chance to wash up. You were ordered to stay like this and memorize the tome of herbs and poisons that you technically already knew by heart, so really it was until your master no longer felt ire at your folly enough to deem you ready for more tasks. Not that you would get any care then.

The solitude wasn't too horrible.

Yes your body was sore, exhaustion threatening to pull you from consciousness but you had a better use of your time. Like the walk back you just thought of the ethereal and furious creature you had been ready to lay your life down for. To give him anything he should wish. A compulsion you could find no fault in, no complaints about.

Nothing deterred your desire to appease the creature. The solitude and flowers on the old, thick pages only stoked the flames his appearance had ignited in the deepest parts of your soul. A determination blossoming from the heat.

To find him and give him whatever he desired. Including your life.

✨️

Years had passed, the desire strong as ever, but there had not been a second encounter yet.

The familiar frustration simmered under your skin as you followed another dead end. Not that it was truly a dead end, but it provided no new information or answers to bring you to him. Just the confirmation that he had taken another life.

The compulsion to dabble in necromancy flared to life, just so you could bring the deceased witch back for your answers. And if you also wanted to take out your jealousy that they were felled by the fairy and not you, well that was to simmer in the darkest parts of your soul. The parts that belonged to Nature's Wrath.

He had earned himself that title, your chest puffing with pride whenever you heard a fellow witch whisper it in fear. That alone had been cause for a decrease in fairy hunting. You had your own hand in it, just a bit.

In your search for the creature you had studied every single piece of knowledge on fairies that you could get your hands on. The different types, habitats, magics and cultures. That included dabbling in fairy hunting yourself. And, well, hunting hunters.

It gained you a wild reputation. Known as a fairy obsessed wild card. You had gone after well known hunters, taken fairies yourself, but never caused them harm, only studying and attempting to learn about him.

The hunters knew it was a gamble interacting with you. If they had no information to give you, it tended to put you in a foul mood. Most still ended up dead. It was said you did it for the fairies. In a sense, you did so.

If you killed other hunters just to limit the pool of potential victims for the fairy you sought, well that was your business alone. Less hunters meant a higher chance for him to come to you. You have yet to reap the benefits of such efforts.

For the nth time since the encounter you questioned if you truly were insane in some way. Obsessed was true, you could not deny that. Instead pride would bloom in your chest at the notion. 

You? Obsessed with that ethereal being? Yes, you were. Equally proud that such a fact was part of your reputation, even if it was seen as an obsession over fairies and not the one you truly sought.

With a heavy sigh, frustration simmered to disappointment, no longer interested in the group of hunters who had worked with the newest deceased.

They seemed to notice the shift in your demeanor, fear twisting their aura and deepening your frown with distaste. Fear makes one do and say stupid things, one of them grabbing at nonexistent straws, an offer no one had dared to give before.

“Come with us to hunt it. The vile thing.”

It was his fault, you mused, wiping the blood that splattered on your cheek with the back of your hand. His fault for calling your sweet fairy vile. 

He should have known you would react like that, the magic bolt carving out the place where his heart should have been. He didn't have one before you summoned the spell anyways, not if he could insult your fairy like that.

Once his body hit the dirt – blood seeping into the ground and magic bleeding into the air– did you realize what he had offered. A smile spread over your features, too happy and innocent for the act you had just committed, turning towards the remaining four hunters who were rooted in place by fear.

“Do you think you can catch him?” You asked sweetly, wondering how useful these four would be to draw him out. They would make good bait… if you could refrain from killing one just for insulting what was the most precious thing to exist.

They shared a look, the biggest finally giving a nod before bravely meeting your eyes. “There is talk… of hunters getting together to capture… him.” He said after some clear deliberation. “The council wants him taken care of, believing him responsible for more than just hunter deaths. They're offering a huge reward and a clean slate for any and all hunters that assist in his capture.”

Keeping your blood from boiling was truly a feat. The council? Truly? 

After experiencing him first hand years ago you knew he was capable of handling himself. Hearing the stories, the feats, that he had accomplished only furthered that belief.

This was the first time you were filled with concern. With dread. Considering the pacifist nature of most – well all other – fairies, it didn’t take a skilled witch to capture them before. Usually just heartless. With the rise of ‘Nature’s Wrath’ only the most skilled had stayed in business, or some vengeful witches on occasion. The Witch Council, consisting of the heads of the influential Coven’s, had always turned a blind eye to fairy hunting. There were some laws against harming magical creatures, but it was an open secret that the Council did nothing to stop those that broke these laws in favor of the benefits.

Therefore, they had never interfered before. They hadn’t been a problem before.

Now you were even more insistent to find your fairy.

“Alright, I will join you.”

The other four seemed relieved at your declaration, shoulders relaxing as if their life wasn’t on the line any more. Foolish of them, really. Their lives were only guaranteed as long as they were useful.

Something they seemed aware of as they filled in details of the plan, leaving out important information such as the location and number of others. The tinge of respect you quickly pushed away, not wanting to feel anything for these witches other than indifference.

They at least gave you a time. Three days, west entrance of the city, midday. With a nod of confirmation, they ran off, only glancing briefly at their dead fifth that was currently being absorbed into the ground by vines. After experiencing the vines for yourself, you had found a way to do the same, the rush of magic humming through your veins, accompanied by bits and pieces of feelings and memories. Nothing solid enough to pin point, just tell you enough about the deceased to wager the threat his death brought you.

Arrogance, cruelty, and no strong feelings for another. Just like most of the others you had consumed.

With a heavy sigh, you shifted and stretched, letting the new magic settle under your skin. Sometimes it felt gross, the other’s magic tainted or twisted, no longer of its natural state. Use of unnatural magics usually twisted one’s core, and the most common use of unnatural magic used the fairy remains. 

It would take some meditation to cleanse your own core of the taint, your own core more naturally attuned to the earth than most other witches.

That’s how you spent the three days, just outside the city, in the forest, naked and meditating through the elements, cleansing your body of the wrongness of the magic, a delicate process.

So by the time you met up with the others, you felt refreshed and more powerful, even in a bright mood that would be hard to break. Not even the dozen or so extra witches standing with the four from before put a damper on your joy.

Most of them clearly fought off the urge to run at the sight of you, but one of the original four was quick to put them at ease. “They’re helping.”

The tension bleeding from their shoulders almost made you laugh. It was good to know they feared you, but still foolish to think they were safe only because you were “helping”. 

“Shall we head out? Do I get to know the details of the plan?” You asked, keeping your tone cordial and friendly.

One of the more experienced hunters–you could tell from his aura–was the one to answer. “There are others out hunting right now. We assumed due to the large number of us here in the city that he would still be nearby. They are sticking to an area we have previously scouted and set with wards and traps. Both magical and not.”

Your chin dipped in acknowledgement, urging him to continue as the group began walking along the dirt road out towards the forest. It made sense to use rigged mechanical traps, as the fairy would surely sense any magical traps due to his attunement with nature itself. Any strange magic would be noticed. But they would still bring him in regardless, as they were signs of hunters. Bait.

Well aware this tactic had been used before, and that your fairy would still be able to handle himself, it was the number of hunters that raised problems. While none of them had magical levels close to your own, there was strength in numbers. Something the hunters had kept limited due to their own greed. More hunters meant more ways to split the cut. Less money for each.

This time either the reward was so grand it didn’t matter, or they were just that eager to see your fairy stopped so they could continue their own business. 

And maybe, in a way, you did want him stopped. You hadn’t given much thought to what you would do when you found him. Perhaps offer your life as before. Let him absorb you as he had tried once before, as you have done to many others.

But a small part of you wanted him safe. Didn’t want such a beautiful creature to be harmed. To be seen and chased after by the scum that are surrounding you now. That he had killed before. You wanted to keep him all for yourself. Your sweet fairy.

A thought you always pushed aside, reminding yourself that your devotion far outweighed your greed. Your life belonged to him, not the other way around.

It was quite a distance down the dirt path before the group turned into the forest, heading north bound and staying silent. Their footsteps hushed by magic or skill, reminding you that these were hunters. The skill needed to capture a fairy was one of stealth. To sneak up and surprise. To lay bait, or know where to find one. Those last two required the skill of a novice, but the way a few of the hunters seemed to blend in with their environment, becoming nearly invisible, was a tad impressive.

You never tried to hide in the forest. It welcomed you as if you were a part of it, the whispers of the trees and plants giddy at your mere presence, moving out of your way and providing passage.

A few of the hunters near you were watching in awe, resulting in your own chest inflating with pride. This was what happened when a witch accepted Gaia and her body. When a witch gives themself to the Great Mother, nurtures her. She nurtures back, welcomes you with open arms.

Something modern “progressive” witches never did. Magic was power to them, and not the life force and energy that makes up everything from the air they breath to the light they see and the ground beneath their feet. A lack of respect for the Great Mother, taking as if their right, as if they are greater than she. 

Ignoring the questioning and curious looks, you let the others wonder, despite the answers being right beneath their feet. You weren’t going to spell it out for them, not when they don’t listen.

How could they ignore the gentle voices all around? Disrespect them and the home they provided to so much. Not just fairies, but even the non-magical creatures.

Witches had become too dependent on their human counterparts. Perhaps a consequence of the pact with non-magical humans and the integration of magic into human society. Even if they were unaware of most of what a witch could do, appeasing the non-magical majority of society had led to an influx of greed and cruelty, and a detachment from Gaia herself.

Yes, that could explain how witches had fallen so far from their former grace. The pact made with humans to stop their persecution of witches had been made to protect, but now their “advancements” had brought greed out on both sides. Even if witches were still painted in a light that made them seem mostly harmless.

As if enchanting and cultivating magic was the extent of their power, only small spells allowed outside of magical cities and coven protected zones to keep up the illusion that witches could not kill another with a flick of their wrist. Which, granted, normally they couldn’t.

Not anymore.

In order to appease humanity, chanting and spellwork was the only acceptable magic for a few decades. All while the covens worked behind the lines to make safe zones and push for witch rights. The nature of a witches power went from the very air and ground around them to each other and the words imbued with magic. It diluted a witches ability to pull the magic from around them, making the words, enchantments, and often coven bonds, a need to bring out stronger magics.

A nomad witch as yourself, raised on the old ways by a master who still revered Gaia, had no need for such things. Using magic as it was intended. And that was part of the reason the Council also did nothing about your own crimes. The death of a witch was on the witch’s coven. And no influential coven had ties to any of the mongrel that had been absorbed by your hands. 

Another reason the stakes were higher now. An order by the Council to capture your fairy would draw the attention of such Coven’s. As well as the Council hounds that did have power perhaps equal to your own. You could not simply kill one for insulting your fairy like you had done to the witch earlier this week. Not if you wanted the freedom to pursue said fairy.

Jolted out of your reminiscing by a sudden shift in the magic, your eyes darted around to make a head count of your temporary companions. There were now more, all of them halting the way forward and instead beginning to spread out. On instinct, you memorized their magical signatures, keeping a mindful inner eye on their movements to track them.

It was clear you had reached the zone in which the bait was laid. A river could be heard in the distance, and you could barely make out a ragged cliff side further ahead. Breathing in, your magic surged forward, a line through the dirt in the direction of the cliff to further scope it out. It went on in both directions for a distance you couldn’t follow, and the height was too high to jump up– death awaited anyone who would jump down. However, you could feel a scattering of caves of varying sizes. Reminiscent of fairy caves mostly.

The creatures had the ability to shift sizes, though they often stayed in their smaller size, akin to their brethren, pixies. It was safer to be small, less magic to be pulled, less mass to be used for greed.

A surge of anger ran through your spine as your magic ran through the caves, finding fairies deep within, trembling with fear.

This was the bait. A nest of fairies. One the hunters knew about, at least one, deciding to share the location of the nest for this hunt. Frightened Fairies radiated magic on a frequency that resembled an SOS, usually to Gaia herself. Creatures or the forest itself would defend the small creatures since their fear quite literally disturbed the magic and nature around them. And a whole nest shaking with fear was why the air felt so wrong.

You could barely see the cave walls through the foliage, even in the mid afternoon sun, and their distress affected the natural magic this far, several dozen meters away, most likely in all directions.

There was no way your fairy could ignore a distress signal this large. Regardless of the wards and traps you could vaguely feel in the distance between you and the nest. The signal worked even more in the hunter’s favor as it overpowered the magical signature of the traps, hiding them much better. You would wave the odd signatures off as the forest responding to the distress if you weren’t actively aware and looking for said traps.

To your utter dismay, you had to admit this was a genius plan. To your utter dread, you had to admit the chances of your fairy making it out of this was slim.

It was a good thing you were here.

With no knowledge of how long the fairies had been in such a state, you made quick work of rooting your magic beneath you, spreading it out as inconspicuous as you could manage. Hopefully if anyone noticed they would just assume you were helping them in some way.

You managed to have a mental map of every hunter, trap, fairy, and tree in the distressed zone up to the cliff by the time you felt the first hunter die.

He was closest to the cliff on the right, his body pushed against the rock, life force draining from him quickly and not into the earth. It was out of sight from your point of view, but not of nearby hunters.

No sooner was the first dead and another hunter screamed “It’s him!” before chaos broke out.

Suddenly a hunter on the left by the cliff was dead, and then one closer to you on your right. He was jumping around, picking them off with surprising ease.

It wasn’t until he appeared from a tree and grabbed the one on your left that you realized how he was killing. The hunter dared to reach out for you, even as his head was pulled in and melded with the tree. Only the fairy’s upper half was sticking out of the bark, his obsidian eyes shot in your direction, the gold much brighter than you remembered. His scowl deepened at the sight of you, quickly disappearing into the bark. The hunter was half merged into the tree, his legs twitching as the last of his life was pulled from him, dangling at the odd angle.

The forest accepted the offering of life, the bark moving over the rest and making the body an extension of itself, reaching for the ground where its own roots had spurred forth to connect.

A reminder of how beautiful and deadly nature was. The distress of nature’s cultivators bringing out the forest’s protective instincts in frightening but gentle ways.

Becoming one with a tree? That was a death of honor.

You were pulled back to the scene as one of the other others demanded your help, feeling most of them running closer to the fairy nest if only so they weren’t picked off so quickly any further. 

Magic wards were hastily thrown up, faltering in place as fear caused the witches to stumble over the incantations. You wondered if he even needed you here, considering how foolish and weak these hunters were. It seemed even in numbers they were no match for this one fairy, using the forest to aid him in protecting his kin.

As you approached the remaining dozen and a half, your own dread falling off your shoulders, the battle quickly turned in their favor.

One of them had the bright idea to use fire magic. They aimed a low level fireball right at the nearest cluster of caves. As soon as the ethereal fairy appeared to deflect or absorb the magic–both a dangerous idea considering his own nature– another hunter used a spell to yank him away.

It was your quick thinking that stopped the fire from reaching and torching the caves, the use of your own magic manipulating the stone walls to temporarily shut the caves and disperse the fire. It would rumble the caves, so a little extra magic was spent ensuring they were stable through the shockwaves.

The hunters were not dismayed though, several of them charging towards the fairy with blades, a couple using wind spells to keep the fairy from the trees, and then taking it a step forward by burning the surrounding areas.

The pain of the forest added to the distress of the fairies, both burning in the back of your mind. A downfall of being so attuned to the forest and nature itself. You had been able to mostly ignore the distress signal from the fairies, but combined with the pain of the forest around? A dull ache spreads from the back of your head down your spine.

These men were willing to burn the forest down to capture the deadly fairy.

And if the distress around was affecting you like this, you could only imagine how the other felt. You caught flashes of him in between dodging the blades, pulling a blade of his own out and parrying with surprising ease. His features were just as perfect as the last time you saw him, twisted with rage and a deep concentration that had you in awe. Such an expression on another person would look vile, or cruel. But not on him.

Nature’s wrath was a title that he truly embodied, and like the tree absorbing the hunter, it was truly a beautiful thing.

One you could not admire for more than a mere few seconds before you had to act. The fires were spreading, some of the hunters intent on spreading it with their own wind and burning hands. The fairy on occasion fluttered his wings and dosed some of the flames with his own dust or using the water in the air to combat the spread. Water would be harder for him to summon this far from the river, still out of sight even if it could be heard and felt in the distance. It would require a level of concentration that was not possible in the heat of battle.

Not for him. But for you?

You threw a few spells into the mix of the battle, letting your magical presence be felt so the hunters didn’t turn on you just yet. Simple and small bits of magic that deflected a sword or staggered one of them just enough to spare the fairy from injury. Despite how simple it was, the level of focus while your head was pounding was quite a feat.

All while you moved on the perimeter of the zone, moving towards the river you could hear, a string of your magic moving through the dirt to search it out. A sigh of relief when you realized it was not so far. Yes it would still be an effort for what you had planned, but it would not drain you too much.

You hoped so at least.

With the backs of the hunters to you, the fairy rushing back towards the cliff while dodging the others, you took a moment to retract your magic from them and the zone to focus it all behind you. A soft prayer to Gaia under your breath, and seconds later the river was rising and rushing through the forest like a small tsunami.

Water rushed past you on the forest floor, no higher than your calves but it was plenty to rush forward and wiped out the fires that were spreading quickly. You pushed it several meters past the distressed zone, letting it sink enough to cover the ground and keep it wet as a protective measure against further fires.

The rush knocked a few off their feet, not expecting the water of course.

It also gave away where your allegiances lie for this fight, since it gave the fairy an upper hand enough to end two of the six remaining attackers nearby.

“Well, guess I should get serious.” You huffed, reaching down to pull your boots off and feel the muddy water beneath your toes. The stronger connection to the earth both eased and distressed your magic, since the forest itself was still in distress.

Still you felt a brush of energy that felt eerily like a thank you. Perhaps for stopping the fires. Yes the water may have drowned some plants or hurt them, but it saved many more.

Half the hunters turned to you as you charged forward, using the water beneath to direct your attacks. Slices of the water came up to cut and maim while the muddy earth began to pull and stagger all of the hunters. You bended the mud and water to not only attack, but also deflect, nature listening to you with more ease with its own instinct to fight the threats.

It also gave you warning when there were more people approaching. Nearly all but two of the hunters were dead as another round approached and surrounded you. You stood near the fairy, his obsidian eyes casting wary glances your way, at least noting you meant him no harm. The enemy of your enemy is your ally after all.

It was as he fell the last of the hunter that he hissed in your direction. “Tell me why I should not kill you.”

Ah, his voice. You had missed it.

Unable to help the dreamy sigh, you smiled in his direction. “I have no reason, my sweet fairy. If my death would please you, it is yours.”

Recognition flashed through his eyes, shock twisting his features for a moment before a strange voice called out. “Hand him over, witch. He has to pay for his crimes.” You turned just enough to notice the several dozens around, and all with a matching crest. Shit. It was the city’s coven. They were one of the more powerful ones, their magic keeping the city shielded from non-magical folk. Or, well, hiding all the magic from anyone without a magical core.

“It is you that have committed crimes against fairies! I have done nothing but exact justice!” The fairy next to you shouted, his black and red wings fluttered with agitation behind him. He clearly had this conversation before, though you saw no reason to try. 

“They don’t care.” Sighing, your eyes ran over the many witches, surprised even the head was there. “The Council gave the order for your capture. Hunters are easy compared to coven witches, and this Coven is powerful. If I may suggest a retreat? These ones will not bother the fairy nest.”

Just to make sure that would be the case, your magic sought out the nest, eyes widening as you sensed a small portal of sorts.

A glance at the fairy next to you told you all you needed to know about where the portal came from. As well as the fact he would not be running until the last of his kin were gone from the nest. A shame they must leave their own home, truly.

“Do you even have the magic to leave?” A whisper, ignoring the way your tone trembled.

He met your gaze, the usual displeased frown lifting into a cocky smirk. You could almost believe it, if not for the way his hands tremble.

Nodding, you took a few steps forward, hands up in front of you as if trying to calm a beast. “Let’s not do anything hasty now.” “Says the fairy lover.” One snapped.

“And what’s wrong with that? They are Gaia’s children, just as we are.” You mused, keeping an inner eye on the fairy nest and the portal. You could buy as much time as you could, opening up the caves again. Giving the sweet fairy a way to reach the portal quickly and without using more of his own magic. “The old ways are dying.” A voice boomed, drawing your attention to the coven leader. “As is our connection to Gaia. We don’t need her anymore.”

Your eye roll was dramatic to say the least. “Now that is just rude to the Great Mother! She is our provider. Our core. Breaking from her breaks what we are.”

“She is not needed anymore.” The Coven head stressed once more, nodding at some of his men who began to chant.

Before you could respond, a few others charged forward, summoning spectral weapons and clashing in battle. They parried your slashes of water, staggering you back. Your attention was pulled in different directions. From trying to block the attacks to disrupting the chanting going on around you while keeping track of the fairies inside the cave.

Your only advantage was the fairy’s help next to you, but he was clearly struggling with the overwhelming foes.

With a curse, you used the water to pull up a wall of water, pushing it towards his attackers before quickly maneuvering it to block incoming magic missiles. “You aren’t going to make it at this rate! Go, the last of them are leaving. Go be with your kin.” You kissed out at the fairy who was also using the water much like you were but on a smaller scale.

The open portal was draining him too much, you could see that. Even with the magic he gained from the hunters, a fairy could usually teleport himself through the magic but opening a portal and holding it was more of space magic than the natural. It was possible he was just opening one to their realm, one that fairies could use to travel, but the distance and time holding it would still drain him while fighting like this.

And yet he looked at you as if you were mad for suggesting that he head through. Was that not his plan? An emotion much like concern flashed over his features, but you pushed that aside. You did not think he would be concerned for you, why would he?

The brief hesitation was all that was needed for things to go from bad to worse. His magic wavered, a manifested weapon swung down. He noticed too late.

A slash over his eye had him hissing back in pain, a few other gashes appearing on his exposed arms. It was enough to distract you as well, feeling a burning pain shoot out from your non-dominant arm and along your side. A barrage of magic missiles that had you stumbling.

His portal in the nest closed, thankfully after all the fairies had evacuated. But now you were both injured and running out of magic., the coven swarming in to either capture or kill.

Every possible escape route swam through your mind. Every possible spell you could use to turn the tides or run and each option as unlikely as the last. Even as you pushed out with your magic, sending more water in a rush towards your enemies, pushing them back and staggering but not stopping them. The fairy was holding his eyes, blood running down his arm from the wound and the wounds marring his skin. The idea of him teleporting himself away--even just a small distance–was on the tip of your tongue when you noticed a limp in one of his wings.

Injured. He couldn’t send himself away.

“Well-” You rushed over, grabbing his waist with your dominant arm while using your injured to throw a quick barrage of magic missiles. A quick and heavy one, 20 or so missiles, enough to distract for the real spell. “Apologies sweetheart, but bare with me.” 

He looked up with his one good eye, confusion quickly shifted to shock as water rushed up and covered both of your bodies. 

Your only thought was of hope you two would not be followed, and then you both dissolved into the water.

✨️

It had been a few years since you had returned here, but it was the safest place you could think of.

A foolish thing, considering the distance required more magic than you had at the time. Part of a Master’s job when raising and training a young witch was cultivating a home for the witch.

Your master had shown you the location he had picked out many years ago. After the fight you had with him before leaving only a few years prior to today, you didn’t think it would still be there.

Due to your affinity and closeness to the earth itself, your master had chosen a place much farther from the cities than he had lived. Transporting not only you but a fairy, both injured, across many miles and up a mountain was nowhere near easy. And if the cabin was not there, well, that would really fucking suck. Simple as that.

Emerging from the stream nearby and seeing the cabin was a major relief before you had passed out, acknowledging a cold nip to the air.

Waking up inside the cabin, clothes dry and wounds clearly taken care of, wasn’t even the most shocking thing. It was the fairy standing near the fire, stoking it with his back towards you, wings folded down in relaxation.

You must have made some sort of noise because he glanced over his shoulder at you, the fire reflecting in the obsidian eyes, stoking a fire in your own chest. “You’re awake.”

“How long was I out?” You croaked out, making no effort to move or get up. The bed was cozy.

“A little over a day.” He turned back to the fire, ending the conversation there.

The whine that left you at the lack of his attention was entirely unintentional, but you were pleased when he immediately looked back, expression softer.

“I feel like shit.” You answered his silent question, shutting your eyes to momentarily make a mental check on your body. The bed was stiff, probably from years of sitting here, unused. Surprisingly the air did not smell stiff or dusty, especially for such a small cabin. A witch is given a small one and expected to build onto it themselves.

So aside from the bed and the fire, there was little else. A table and chair in a corner. A shelf stacked with unused cooking ware and empty bottles and some basic starting supplies for potion making. And by the bandages on your arm, you would assume there was a medkit there as well. How useful it would be was questionable, but it was clearly used.

Wait.

“You…” Sitting up faster than you should–given the spinning of the room–you stared in shock at the fairy. “Did you tend to my wounds? How are yours?”

He stiffened. Then turned. And you gasped.

There was a white eye patch over his injured eye, as well as bandages on his arms but they were loose, as if he struggled to put them on. Your chest was tight at the picture he was, much softer than the vengeful fairy that had tried to take your life so long ago.

In fact, he almost seemed bashful. 

“I did try.”

With a soft chuckle you patted the bed next to you. “Come, I will fix your bandages.”

He hesitated, then made his way over and sat down stiffly. Rolling your eyes you pulled him closer, mindful of his gaze as you unwrapped the too loose gauze. “If you are having trouble with your wounds then you must still be out of magic, am I right?”

A slow nod, barely seen from how you were bent over his arm, gently unraveling. 

“I can feel that my core is still weak as well, so healing magic is out of the question for me. And if I remember, this cabin is pretty far from the village. Most likely a near day’s walk.” And your side hurt too much to even attempt the trek.

“A storm is coming as well.” He mentioned lowly, drawing your attention from the exposed cuts up to his face. 

Grateful for his input, you continued with honesty, letting him know just how this situation was. “Well that is both a good and bad thing. Good because it will definitely ensure we are not found. But bad because I have not been to this cabin in so long there is no food or supplies to withstand days waiting for it to pass.”

He scoffed, turning his head away and saying nothing more. Taking the silence as answer enough –meaning there is none– you turned back to your work. Thankfully the wounds seemed cleaned and some paste was applied. You assumed healing herbs. So all you needed to do was probably wrap up the bandages.

You finished and moved to his other arm, this time much closer to him since it was on his other side, practically leaning over his lap to do so. The position agitated the bruises on your side, brow furrowed with the pain but you pushed it aside. Pain was a price to pay for helping your sweet fairy.

Realizing you couldn’t call him that out loud(well you could but he might not like it), you broke the silence. “What’s your name?”

Feeling his eye on you, you kept your focus on your task. “Hongjoong.”

“Hongjoong.” You tested it on your tongue, humming in satisfaction. “A pretty name for a pretty fairy.”

Because your hands were on his arm you noticed instantly how he stiffened further, as well as stopped breathing. Shooting a glance up at his face, you marveled at the whirlwind of emotions there, deciding to spare him from sitting in them you gave your own name. “But call me whatever you want.”

“I don’t care for your name, witch.” He hissed, yanking his arm away the second the bandage was properly secure.

With a sigh, you patted his knee. “That’s alright. I cared about yours.”

“You truly are insane.”

“So you have told me.”

“And I meant it. Who willingly offers their life?! Do you have a death wish?” “On the contrary, I do not. I simply wanted to give you what you wanted.”

“Insane!” He stood up abruptly, pacing away while running his hand through his red hair, wings shaking with some agitation but still in their relaxed state.

Shrugging, the words just rolled off. “I suppose I am. Though I’d like to think I just know what I want.”

He swiveled on the ball of his foot, snarling at you with his teeth bared. “And that is to give me your life?!”

The urge to shrug again was pushed down, instead a soft smile on your lips, hands on your lap as you met his gaze with one of conviction. “To give the most ethereal, majestic being I have ever seen, whatever he wants. If that is my life, I will gladly give it. If that is another’s, consider it done.” You slide off the bed, barely registering you were in only your undergarments as you got on your knees. Crawling over, you stopped before him, tilting your head back as a show of submission. “I want whatever you want, please use me.”

Conflicting emotions warred on his features, from shock to horror to… awe? Dare you say desire?

Before you could truly pinpoint what you saw, he turned once more and was out the small cabin door in a rush, slamming the thick wood behind him.

Well that could have gone better.

Exhaling deeply you stood back up and examined the room more closely. Maybe there were some clothes you could wash in the stream with the bedding. Focusing on that instead of the fact your sweet fa- Hongjoong left you was a better idea than wallowing.

Hours passed as you cleaned the bedding, used the tiny bit of magic you had to pull all the moisture from the items, and then searched near the stream and cabin for anything to eat. By the time night fell the cabin was clean and you had a fish and mushroom stew above the fire and a mental catalog of everything inside.

The location was up in the mountains, but if you remember correctly the flora and fauna in this particular part of the mountains was abundant and not as touched by humans as most others. There should be a town near the base, and a valley in between this and the next mountain. There was also a plethora of caves running through this mountain range that probably contained more magical creatures, or at least dangerous ones, that would limit the amount of humans up this far.

Logically it made a good home, especially since you had all the skills and knowledge to live off the land. However, it did not have one thing: Hongjoong.

While it would be smart to stay here, you knew as soon as you were able, you would go find him. Go where he went. Do what he wanted.

You had agitated the bruises on our side with all your moving about, but aside from how drained you were of magic and fatigued you were. Using the last bit you had recovered sleeping to dry the clothes and bedding wasn’t the smartest idea.

Running your hand down the thick dress, cinched at the waist with a tie, begged to differ. Even with the fire burning in the small cabin, there was an unmistakable chill in the air and the thicker clothing would help with that.

Perhaps the cold was the reason that the door opened at dusk, your fairy stepping through, a pout on his lips and shivers running down his body.

“Welcome back.” Your excitement over his arrival was palpable, a grin spread wide. Not even the fierce glare he shot your way could dampen it.

“Where are we? I am unfamiliar with the forest here.” 

“Well I imagine so, we are quite far from where we fought. It would take us several weeks to travel back on foot. A week on horseback.” You explained, turning your attention back to the stew above the fire. “You will have better luck remaining here and recharging your magic. I would give you mine, but teleporting such a distance truly drained me.”

He scoffed, still standing by the door but at least shut the heavy wood, letting the latch fall into place. “You didn’t need to use what you had to dry the fabric earlier.”

That surprised you, glancing over your shoulder at him. “Oh? Were you watching?”

He blushed, the sight filling you with glee. The fact he was so expressive and easy to read just elevated his worth in your heart. He truly was the most beautiful creature to exist. A Fairy willing to go against his very nature and kill those who had harmed his kin. Hunting them as they hunted Fairies. And yet he could be so bashful and clumsy, even caring. 

“It was just a guess!” He huffed, wings fluttering with agitation. You had to stop yourself from cooing at the sight.

“Mhmm, so observant of you. Are you hungry?” 

Whatever reply he had died on his tongue, momentarily stunned by your shift in topic. “What is it?” Curiosity brightened his features, lifting his head further to look over your shoulder. You made it easier on him by stepping out of view, watching him out of the corner of your eye.

He sniffed the air gingerly, once more holding back a coo at the sight. A hesitant step forward and the sound of a grumbling stomach filled the space.

This time you couldn’t help your coo at his bashful expression. “Fish and mushroom stew. I am not sure how you feel about fish, I know meat is not a common diet for fairies but it’s not completely ignored either. The chunks are big enough to eat around.”

Tearing his gaze from the pot he met yours, the shock evident. “What? How do you know that?” You could see the moment he remembered that technically you had been one of the hunters who had baited him, a hiss falling from his lips and hatred filling his obsidian gaze. 

It struck no fear into you, as you could never be afraid of him. Even if he ripped your innards out while you watched, tortured you, or left you to rot. None of those outcomes scared you, since they would be done by his hand. Still, a part of you wanted him to know you meant him no harm.

“I have never killed or harmed a fairy. I promise you. Any hunting I did was to gather more research. To know more about you and fairies alike. Your diet, habits, traditions. Some had been very open about the information after some time. Though I was a bit frustrated, none of them wanted to tell me about you.” With a soft sigh you turned back to the stew, checking to see if it was good enough to eat. “I can understand why they consider you an outcast, killing goes against their nature. Many resigned to their fate saying this was Gaia’s doing, the hunters. They would not sell you out either way, if it caused their kin harm.”

“I do not do this for my kin’s acceptance.”

“Of course not.” You started plating two bowls, one with fish, one without, deciding you would eat whichever he chose not to. “You do it for their safety. An admirable thing, to go to such lengths to protect your kind.”

He scoffed, stepping closer as you set the two bowls on the table. “I do not need your admiration.”

“Of course not.” You repeated, stepping back and giving him the space to choose.

Eyeing you warily, he chose the bowl without fish, hesitating further before sitting down. Taking the other bowl, you sat on the bed, giving him as much space the small cabin could allow.

Despite your hunger, you did not eat as quickly as him, instead watching him take each bite. A bit sloppy, but cute. He relaxed with each bite, finished before you were a third of the way done with yours. The quiet stretched as he stood up, his gaze telling as it flickered between you and the pot and his bowl.

“Have as much as you want. I plan to do a more extensive search for food and herbs tomorrow.”

Still, he hesitated, obviously conflicted with something.

You have never known the amount of patience you could muster than in this moment, a soft smile on your lips as you waited for him to decide, or speak up about what the issue was. Hours could have passed like that and you would still be content just watching the plethora of emotions battle it out on his perfect face.

“The storm…” He finally started, hesitation still evident in his tone. “It will hit by the morning, and food will be hard to obtain. Feels like ice on the wind.” “Oh.” The smile faltered to a more thoughtful expression. “That is definitely a problem. It is winter, and this high up in the mountains I assume it will not be a gentle storm either. Very well, I may need to exhaust myself a bit further, but it’s necessary.” Setting the half eaten soup aside, you stood, knowing every second wasted could cost you. 

“What?” Flabbergasted, he blocked your path. “You can’t go out there now.”

“Sure I can.”

“No. You can’t.”

Perplexed by how adamant he was over this, you tilted your head, expression showing your confusion. That had him wavering, eye darting towards the door before back to you. With a dejected sigh, he continued on. “You will use more magic, will you not?”

“Only a bit. I will ask Gaia for her blessing and assistance, the Great Mother always provides.” You offered, touched by what you could only guess was concern. “Unless… Are you going to do so? But I could not ask my sweet fairy to do such a thing.”

He snarled at the name. “Don’t call me that!”

“Why not? You are being so sweet. Taking care of my wounds, offering to hunt food for us. Oh such a devoted and caring fairy.” You sighed dreamily, cupping your cheeks and letting out a giddy giggle. “Unless the issue is calling you mine.”

He hissed again, standing a bit straighter. “You need to recoup so you can take me back there! I have unfinished business.” The blush on his cheeks belied such a purpose though. Maybe it was a half truth.

“Mmm nope. If you leave to hunt I will just follow. Two are better than one, are they not? The fire enchantment should last through a storm, but some ingredients to enhance the enchantment and provide extra protection would not be a bad idea either. So, I will come with. You may find food if you wish.”

“Are you always so stubborn?”

“I would think so. I have been chasing you for years.” Your admission had him flinching back in shock, but it paid you no mind. 

“Years?” 

“Mhmm. Since the day you first found me. I was nearing the end of my apprenticeship anyways, and with a goal of study, my Master deemed me worthy to be on my own. And I haven’t stopped my research or search for you since.” 

Intent on getting out there and beginning your search, you stepped closer to him, biting back a chuckle as he stepped back. When his back hit the door, you didn’t stop, reaching next to his hip and grabbing the handle. He resembled a frozen deer with how wide and innocent his eyes had gone. “Now, I can give you a list of animals and plants that should be in the area for food. Since you aren’t a fan of fish, rabbit or boar would do nicely.”

He hissed at that, clearly not keen on the idea of hunting another animal. “I know how to hunt.” Or perhaps he was?

“Good. Go do it, my pretty fairy. Since that’s what you want.” You all but purred out, watching the way he blushed deeper and deeper.

So damned pretty like this.

You wondered what would happen if you kissed him. Would he get even more shy? Vengeful? Would he hurt you? Maybe all of them.

Every single one filled you with excitement.

Before you could decide what to do about it, he was pushing you back and pushing himself out the door. Biting back the disappointment, you followed.

Just to stumble to a stop at the sight right outside the door. There were a couple animals, from a boar, a couple of rabbits and squirrels. All clean kills by the lack of blood. Another pile of herbs and berries and some vegetation was nearby.

When you threw a questioning glance at the other, he made an effort not to meet it.

“I can see you already handled it then. Very well. Some buckets of drinking water and a few more herbs will be easy to get for myself. Is there anything in particular you need? Perhaps your clothes washed?”

“I can handle it.”

“No.” Shaking your head, your hand found his wrist. “I have a suspicion you have not rested yet, my sweet, and you suffered more physical wounds than I. Allow me. It would be better for you to get rest. This is nothing I can’t handle, even drained as I am. The stream is right there, and I already noted some herbs and ingredients that would be needed nearby. There are pajamas inside, the bottoms should fit and I can wash your clothes. I am not taking no for an answer.”

Staring down at your hand, Hongjoong said nothing at first, just frozen from the touch. In the back of your mind you lamented your lack of magic, knowing you could use it to get your way if you had it right now. A simple sleep spell would do.

When he nodded, your shoulders relaxed a bit. Good, no fight there.

No, he waited until you returned, clearly exhausted from hauling water back to the cabin to fill up the barrel, and even more exhausted after scouring for herbs. In your defense, the last time you had felt so utterly drained was years ago when this fairy in question had taken your magic. And you were too worried about saving face in front of your obsession to let your struggle show.

It started with a hard stare, judgemental even, as he was now wearing the pajamas you had pointed out. At least he listened to that too.

Then it was the scoffs and huffs every time you came back in and poured the buckets of water into the barrel, or set the pile of herbs down.

And by the time you had finished, he was up and pointing at the bed, giving you a look that had you shivering. “Awww, worried about me, sweetie?”

“No!” The red of his cheeks said otherwise. “I don’t want to be stuck with a rotting body is all.”

Biting the inside of your cheek to keep from cooing, you nodded and just walked over. Okay, not walked, more like dragged your sluggish feet and collapsed onto the bed face first. “Just let me rest for an hour or so. I need to cut and clean the meat before rot sets in.”

“I am not incompetent, I can handle that much.”  He huffed, surprising you by rolling your body fully on the bed and pulling the blankets over you. “Sleep. You have done enough.”

Despite the fact he practically snapped the words in your direction, there was a pleased smile on your face. Your sweet fairy was worried about you. It made it easy to fall asleep after that.

✨️

Truthfully you hadn’t expected to wake up and see everything done properly. The cabin smelled of blood, bone, and animal guts. He somehow kept it to a corner of the room, even though the blood was seeping into the wood and stone of the floor. But that would be easy to get out once your magic was back. For now, you would have to do what you could.

You could hear the snow raging outside. The harsh winds, the bone chill seeping into the walls. Nature was indeed fierce, commanding the respect she deserves. And the fairy? Your fairy? Turning to you when you stood from the bed, blood soaked down the front of the cream pajamas, some of it smeared on his face. 

A thrill shot through you, locking your gaze with his, there was an undeniable spark. His eye widened before he looked away, clearing his throat. “You don’t look half dead on your feet anymore.”

“I feel much better as well.” You didn’t hide the way your eyes took him in. The bloody fabric sticking to his body, the shimmer of his wings as if they could feel your desire. The effort it clearly took him to return to work.

Not that it did him any good when you stood next to him, taking in the deconstruction animal corpses on the table, different parts in bowls or baskets. A low whistle escaped your lips, impressed with the work. “I see you’re skilled with your hands. Even with one eye harmed.” Watching him debone a squirrel was interesting work. At least you assumed it was a squirrel, considering he had already skinned the animals and had them hanging above the mantle to dry.

“I am using a little magic for guidance. I already nicked a blood vessel on the boar.”

“Well it’s a good thing you look delicious covered in blood."

He tugged too hard on the small corpse, ripping the body resulting in bones flying across the room. His head had jerked up, eye wide with disbelief. “How can you say something so twisted?”

With an incredulous look, you met his gaze. “Because I am. You look positively immaculate in any form, my sweet fairy. Pulling a hunter into a tree, killing them with ease, stealing my magic, being worried about me or, covered in animal blood as you work tirelessly to supply us both with what Gaia has given us. I am sure there are other sides to you that I will swoon over.”

“I don’t think I can ever get over how you talk.” He whispered to himself with a shake of his head and just returned to his work. “Make yourself useful and deal with the herbs. I noticed you got some mana rich ones.”

Accepting the redirection you nodded, turning to the untouched basket near the bed, far from the fire and blood. “To help mana flow and regeneration. I want to treat your eye as soon as I can.”

That’s how you found yourself for the next couple of hours. The storm outside was too dense for any light to stream in, the tightly bound windows, only intuition telling you roughly when it was late morning and you started on another soup, letting it simmer as you organized and prep the many herbs, brewing the mana recovery potions in a smaller pot next to the soup over the fire.

The silence wasn’t uncomfortable, at least on your end. The tasks were familiar and easy on your worn body, the smell of the food filled the air and covered the smell of dried blood. The space was small enough that the fire kept it warm despite the icy storm just outside.

He was finished first, the sections of boar hung up to dry, the bones and skins being washed with water in a makeshift dip in the floor– a couple of stones that had recently sunk down to form a basin, most likely his handiwork. But then the soup was ready, both of you were hungry, and he was still covered in blood.

“If you are done, strip and set the clothes by the table. I will wash you.” With said table dirty and stained from his tasks, you set two bowls on the end table by the bed and pushed the sleeves of your gown up.

He visibly recoiled at your offer, shaking his head. “I can wash myself.”

“I’m sure you can, my sweet, but I would do a better job. Make sure no blood remains and then it will be your turn to rest.” He took another step back as you stepped forward. Brows raised, your hands went to your hips. “Strip, or I will do it for you and get us both bloody.”

More hesitation, but he complied finally. Even under the dried blood on his cheek you could see the flush of warmth. It deepened as his shirt came off, landing with a plop at the leg of the table, his slick but not as drenched as the fabric had been. You still admired how it made the lines and curves of his torso more prominent, tongue darting over your lips when your gaze took in the two beautiful pink nipples of his, hardened from a chill only he felt. 

His thumbs hooked into the hem of the pants and paused, a sound like a squawk escaping his throat as he noticed you were not tearing your gaze away. “Do you mind?”

“I’m about to touch you, Darling, I’m going to see it.”

“Were you always a pervert??”

Laughter bubbled in your throat at his accusation, watching as he pulled his pants off and tossed them aside while immediately attempting to cover his privates. “May I remind you of my earlier words? Sit in the basin.” A gentle order as you moved to the barrel and grabbed a bucket of clean water. Then one of the crushed herbs to add to a second bucket. You set them both down as he did as instructed, looking far too adorable curled into himself and flustered.

“N-no. You don’t. I only momentarily forgot I am stuck with an insane woman.”

“It would do you best to remember, Hongjoong. If you let your guard down too much, I might pounce.” A teasing joke that fell from your lips like a purr, resulting in a jolt through the other. His head snapped up to fix you with a glare that had no effect with how flustered he was. More like an indignant pout. 

“Maybe I should have let you rot.”

“If that’s what you want.” Kneeling down next to him and the basin, a rag in hand, you dipped it in the water before starting with his hair. “Whatever you desire, my sweet fairy.”

He scoffed, wings fluttering in agitation. They didn’t seem to be fully physical, more like a visage in the air, an illusion of spiritual nature. Intangible and ethereal. You wondered if this was because of the lack of fairy dust coating them since his own magic energy was still so low. Or if this was always the case. You had only worked with smaller fairies, and you knew their wings could be torn off and used, not that you ever tried. The curiosity to find out was strong, but you pushed it aside as easily as you pushed his wet, clean hair out of his face and worked on the delicate and petite features there.

You took his inaction to stop you as permission to keep going, fighting off a smile when his wings would flutter behind him or shiver depending on where you touched. His neck seemed sensitive, his pits ticklish, but it was as the rag roughly ghosted over one of his pretty pink nipples that he let out a gasp as his wings shivered with the faintest sound of bells.

The smile spread over your face as you purposely did the same to the other, receiving the same reaction if not more obvious. “I had assumed only your wings would be sensitive, Joong-ah.” 

His hand snapped up to grab your wrist when you went to brush against his nipple again. “What are you doing?”

“Cleaning you obviously.”

“I can do that.”

“We already had this conversation, my sweet. Now relax and let me take care of you.”

The two of you locked eyes for a moment, a battle of wills in between your gazes, one which he looked away first, a blush running up his cheeks from whatever he saw in your own gaze. With a happy hum you continued to wash him.

And perhaps take many opportunities to pull such delicious reactions out of him that got his wings to tingle or his lips to part in a soft, barely there gasp. Your touch was gentle over his stomach, pleased when he leaned back to give you access to the soft lines and his thin waist.

His skin was flushed from the heat of the water and your own touches, moving down to his bare thighs. With a slight tap to his inner knees he spread them for you, and you did your best to ignore what was at the center between the junction of his hips, low on his pelvis. He made a poor effort of covering it with his hand, appearing almost shy. You assumed it was more to hide how your simple touches had him half hard and trembling.

You washed as much of him as you could, moving around to sit at his back and gently push him forward. He went with a bit of hesitation, a sound much like a whine leaving him as you manhandle him by the hips to spread his legs some and ass up in the air. He was gripping the stone in front of him, balancing on the balls of his feet, glancing back at you in semi-alarm.

“Why must you be so touchy?”

“How else am I supposed to wash you?”

“I should have fought you harder on this.” His head fell forward however as the wet rag, freshly dipping in the water, ran down his spine. At first his back arched forward, and then back into your touch as if to ask for more.

“Then why aren’t you?” The smirk on your lips could be heard in your tone.

His body reacted in contrast to his words, affecting his tone as he started stuttering out some excuse about playing nice, that was wiping from his tongue as your fingers ran over his skin where the wings met his flesh. While your hands passed through the noncorporeal beauties, they left behind a tingle on your skin that was most pleasant.

He seemed so pliant under your hands, his expression hidden from you but judging from the flutter of his wings, the heat of his skin, and his near fully hard cock dangling between his legs- he was enjoying your touch.

How pretty would he look coming undone by your hand? By your mouth? Writhing with pleasure and begging for you?

Your own arousal burned hotter, undoing what little restraint you had. Washing his back, you teased with the gentle drag of your fingernails and the soft breath on his wings. His body twitched and arched and was honest with what it liked, going so far as for his behind to be pushed towards you as you washed the soft cheeks. His thighs trembled as you wash the back of them, down to his calves and then back up.

You saved the best for last, staying behind him to give him a sense of privacy as you reached between his legs and wrapped the rag around his fully hard member. His whole body jolted, falling to his knees and letting out a soft cry that was the most beautiful sound you had ever heard. More so than any masterpiece of music that had goosebumps spreading across your skin. His sinful and soft sound of pleasure had your soul singing in tune.

“I-I can-”

“You can what?” You asked lowly, hand stroking his hard member slow and steady. Your thumb brushed over the tip, earning a harsh jut of his hips forward as if fuck your hand. “You don’t want me to touch you there? You can tell me to stop. Say no right now.”

Only because you knew the truth did your hand pause and move off. 

His response came with his own hand grabbing yours and wrapping it back around his member. You let him guide you, the rag falling after a few strokes so it was just your hand on his wet skin. He arched his back more, cock dangling between his thighs as soft pants and breathy moans fell from his lips where you couldn’t see. He kept his face hidden, turned into his bicep as his shaky grip continued to guide his hand.

“So beautiful like this, my sweet. Trust me, I’ll bring you to even more beautiful heights.” The words were a promise. An oath. One you would love to have until the end of your days or even in a new life, should Gaia grant you one.

When your hand picked up, his sounds grew a bit more strangled, wings fluttering with each wave of pleasure you brought him. Curious, your free hand slid up his spine, rubbing around where his wings met skin, pleased to see them emitting a soft glow as his sounds picked up in pitch and volume.

It was with wonder that you watched him quickly become undone, ropes of pure liquid silver shooting from his cock as his body and wings convulsed from the force of his orgasm and cry. The strange cum mixed with the pink water in the basin he was still kneeling in. He was leaning forward on his forearms in support, the slightest jerk of your hand earning a more fierce reaction from him that almost drove you to see how many times you could make him cum in a row.

The thought was dashed when he finally lifted his head, skin flushed and the gold flecks in his one obsidian eye shined like stars in the night sky. His lips were swollen, the bottom pulled in between his teeth enough to leave marks. 

“Beautiful.” You breathed, barely a whisper as you sat awestruck by the aftermath of what you had done.

He blinked back water from his lashline, standing up quickly and grabbing a tunic you had left out for him. He put it on, too big for his small and lithe frame, and then climbed into bed without a word.

You let him go, sitting there for a long moment, replaying every single second of those moments in your head until you heard his breathing even out with sleep.

✨️

Over the coming days, it was not the only time you touched him. In fact, you made it your mission to do so.

The two of you fell into a routine of eating, sleeping, potion making, and idle chatter. Though the chatter was more so on your part. As well as the initiation of touch. But you reminded him, plenty, that all he had to do was say no.

He never did. 

Sure he pretended to be upset most of the time, protesting your touches. Grabbing your wrist when your hands snaked down into his trousers, but never pulling you away. He avoided eye contact, tried at times to be quiet, but every time he let you tease him to mass and stroke him to climax.

It was the morning when you could feel that the storm had past, the sun shined outside on the deep snow and you had already made a trip to the stream to refill the water barrels with clean water. The stains of blood were the first to go when you had enough magic to do so without hard. Well, first after you had healed his eye. He would never get his sight back, the nerves too damaged, but you properly closed the wound and others he had.

It was a matter of time before your magic and his own would be vast enough once more to return, and you were a bit stumped on how to persuade him not to go back. Not that you would stop him, but if an entire coven was waiting for him, he would be like a lamb to the slaughter and you did not wish to send him to his death.

The desire was stronger now as you sat back, licking your lips and staring down at the beautiful fairy you had woken with your mouth on his cock, coaxing him to climax down your throat. “Even your cum tastes like sweet magic.”

“D-Did you have to wake me up like that?”

“I was doing you a service, my sweet. You were the one making such sweet sounds in your slip, rutting against the mattress with a hard cock, seeking pleasure. Was my mouth no good?”

His pink cheeks flushed deeper, gaze fixating on the burning fire across the room as if it was the thing he spoke to. “I-I didn’t say that…”

“Ah so you did enjoy it? I knew it, you like me and my company don’t you?” Giddy you climbed off the bed, never seeking release for yourself. Never pushing to have the heat in your stomach appeased. Because bringing him to such joy and ecstasy was all you wanted. Especially if it would convince him to stay.

The bed sheets rustled behind you as he sat up, your attention on the new stew you were making for the day, using the last of the meat you didn’t dry out as jerky so it would not spoil. You would have to get more later.

“As if I enjoyed spending any time with you.” His voice shook with the telltale sign of fake courage through a lie, which you had gotten good at discerning over the days.

You glanced over your shoulder at him with a smirk that showed you didn’t believe him for a second. He grew more flustered at his lie being seen through. “Mhmm. You look pretty even when you lie. Really, I knew nothing could beat your beauty in any form.”

He looked almost innocent with the way he shied away from your gaze, a soft smile tugging at his lips. Either he didn’t think you were still watching, or he wanted you to see.

Despite bringing him to the precipice of pleasure with your hand multiple times, and now your mouth, you had yet to see a real smile. One of joy aimed in your direction. You craved that more than you craved him to use you as he pleased.

Which caused turmoil to bloom in your chest as you turned back to the stew, stirring it absentmindedly.

There was silence as he washed himself up in the now formed wash pool you had built in a corner with a bit of magic. The water was fresh and filtering itself with a touch of magic. He didn’t slip in past the stone walls of it, just washed away your drool from his pelvis if the sounds were any indication. The silence was not uncomfortable, but you could feel from his energy something weighing on his mind and you waited patiently for him to broach whatever subject it was.

You didn’t have to wait long. “Why haven’t you asked me to please you in return? Or even kiss you?” The words were so soft you would have missed them if you were not waiting for him to speak.

“Because you have not asked for either. Your body has asked for touch, for release, and so I give it. Even if you deny it, I give you the option to back out every time and you do not. I have not pursued the other because you have shown no interest.” You clarified with ease. “Besides, I feel plenty satiated seeing you come undone by my doing. It brings me great pride.”

He huffed, no sound of his movement but you felt his presence grow behind you. You turned to see what he was doing when he grabbed your arm and spun you the rest of the way. No time for questions before his lips were on yours.

It was… a pity you hadn’t kissed him before. It ignited desire in you like none before. It was clumsy, clearly something he knew little to none about, but he sought your lips like they would appease an endless hunger in him. A hunger that matched your own.

Breathing was suddenly unimportant as his tongue pried your lips open and licked inside your mouth, a soft sound of pleasure mingling with your own at his exploration.

You would have loved nothing more for the kiss to continue, to involve the undressing of the clothe from your body and his hands learning the ways it ticked like you had learned for his. For the kiss to lead to a release of your own, brought to you by his hand or mouth or cock- just by him, it did not matter how.

Yet instead you were both panting heavily as he pulled away, as if you had been attempting to break a record of holding your breath underwater and had just resurfaced. Your eyes met his, the daze you felt reflected in his.

The sudden distance twisted your gut uncomfortably. 

“We should expand the hut, a place to store fresh meat and water. This winter will be a long one to push through.” He turned to examine the small four walls and each piece of furniture. Your eyes followed, instead remembering vividly which pieces you had him bent over or sitting on as you brought him to pleasurable heights and wondering how he would bring you to such heights on those same surfaces.

His words registered like a slap of hot steam. “We should? Are you staying the full winter?”

“For now.” The soft flutter of his wings, barely noticeable, said otherwise.

It was hard to contain your excitement. Lying or not, it gave you a full season to convince him to stay. A life up here, far from covens and humans and surrounded by deep natural magic where everything could be provided?

With your sweet fairy?

The desire for such a future burned much hotter than any will to die by his hand or be a tool for him to use.

You just had a winter to convince him that it was a life worth living. It was a good thing he was a poor liar, and you were obsessed with his pleasure.

With a sigh, he watches as you organize the table and light your favorite candles, still trying to choose between the scents cinnamon and apple cider.

Finally satisfied with your work, you feel broad arms wrapped around your frame, pulling you to something sturdy and soft. Knowing all edges and turns of Togame's body by heart now, you let your weight drop and allow yourself to fall into his hold completely. Closing your eyes, you can feel his breath on your skin, bringing you comfort with his rhytmic breathing pattern.

"Why won't you take a bath?" you hear his voice by your ear, tickled by the sudden sensation. Before you can protest, he follows up: "At least, this way you'll get a little rest and your body will feel a lot better."

You try weighing the option in your head. It does sound tempting, you're being honest. The more you stay in the house, the more you see things that need to be adjusted, fixed or changed- so adamant on having the perfect entrance to the new year, you've already spent what litthe strenght you had left in you. Togame loosens his hold on you, allowing you room to turn in place and shoot him a grin.

"Well, will you join me as well or-?..." Seeing him raise a brow, his lip quirked up, amused by the offer but as if saying 'please be serious' you close your mouth shut. "Alright, alright, I'll take be right back." and free yourself from his arms.

As you step into the bathroom, you can hear him call: "Take your time."

The hot water is welcoming, and helps to scrub some of the exhaustion off your system. Freshly bathed, smelling nice, and putting on one of Togame's loose tshirts for the time being, you step into the living room, surprised by the sight that awaits you.

Lights turned off, the place only luminated by the glow of candles and you can smell hot chocolate in the air along with what you think are fresh pastries.

Chin resting against his palm, Togame takes in the sight of you relaxed. Patting the spot next to him, he invites you in to join, snapping you out of your haze.

The two of you sit in silence for a while like this. Legs crossed and leaning against him, you enjoy the treats and your boyfriend watching you smile and hum in content with each sip.

Sometimes being direct is the best way to go with things, so Togame decides to try his luck.

"I know you insist on staying up-" "Ah!" "So at least let me help, and rest like this." he pauses a tad too late and you avoid your eyes instead of speaking.

Between the faint sound of music coming from behind, he can hear you mumble a word and stop, see your mouth open and close a few times as your face grows flushed.

So he takes his chance, again, and leans in closer to you, bumping your cheek with his nose with an amused smile on his face.

"I-it's stupid, really." you manage to blurt out. "Hmm? When has my dear ever have a stupid idea?"

"I- Well..." another bump of his nose and you giggle, fake hitting him on the arm. "Heard somewhere whoever you enter the new year with, you spend it with them all year long and... well..."

Your voice comes out strong when you begin the sentence with borrowed information, voicing it out loud, but as you near its end, your voice falters and shakes, dropping to unheard volumes.

Togame pretends to ponder for a while, even bringing a hand to his chin, scrubbing his nonexistent beard.

"It doesn't sound to me that it states whether we should be awake or not though, does it?" "But Jo!-" you protest immediately.

"The point of the new year is to begin the year, awake and conscious!" This time it's you leaning into him, invading his personal space. One more enthusiastic outburst and you'll be nudging his cheek with your nose.

"I mean, if you insist..." before you can realize, he pulls your body closer to his, adjusting his position to be more comfortable for the two of you. Even in your tired state, you're awfully aware of his hands on your waist, his fingers digging into your skin no matter how gentle he holds you.

One hand travels up your spine and cradles your neck, guiding your face to his. With each second, the space between the two of you lessens one by one and you feel hot all over again, none of which caused by the shower you had a while ago.

His lips grazing yours, Togame speaks up again: "Maybe we can think of a few ways to keep each other up until the clock strikes midnight, yeah?" "...yeah" you nod, entranced by him completely.

Moving up, his lips are by your ear, "How does that sound?" he says and you nod slowly, "Words, baby, I need to hear you."

"Sounds good-" before the word can get out of your lips, you feel his teeth on your ear lobe. Hands gripping at the hem of his shirt, you bury your face to his neck and can hear him let out a hearty laugh at your quick surrender.

His hand on your neck moves up to your hair, slowly massaging and petting your head. Pulling back from your ear, Togame holds you by the chin delicately, nudging you to show your face. Bumping his nose against yours, he captures your lips slowly and you can taste chocolate on his tongue.

Warm and body feeling like dough waiting to be kneaded all around, you return the kiss in slow, sloppy moves.