[ ADVENT CALENDAR / event / PG / prompts, fanfiction, fanart ]
I thought of this idea while talking to dreams, and decided we're going to do an Advent Calendar event! [So that we have a good motivator to push us to write.] So from now till January 1, we're going to all try to do as many little prizes for each other as possible. Each day will have a different word prompt, and hopefully more than one person does
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Prompt:
"Winter is the time for stillness, like a car that’s run out of fuel. Winter is the time for life just bubbling underneath the frozen surface, the time for waiting. Winter is the quiet before a storm. Winter is cold outside, and warm inside."
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Some parts seem a little... melodramatic (especially "he could only submit to these ironies" - in relation of Kiku's sword being yet another thing Yao is, actually?, submitting to), but the sadness is heightened by the repetition of pain.
Poor Yao... D:
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=DDDD
Love you so much. <3
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( ... )
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Yes they are sharing a scarf! X3
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SO CUTE! owo~~
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Three Ravines and A Broken Benz
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Yao pouted. It was not a particularly appealing sight. What was less appealing, however, was the complete and utter lack of response from Kiku, who continued to stoically sit there, buried some fifteen inches in the snow.
The top of their Benz - a birthday gift from Ludwig and Gilbert to Kiku - had fallen off with their first bump along the cliff. The silver-rimmed wheels (with American stripes and stars - courtesy of Im Yong-Soo of all people) were spinning wildly in place, despite the fact that the steering wheel had long since broken off, most likely tumbling down the somewhat steep ravine.
"It's not my fault!" Yao started, needing to repeat it because of the harsh wind blowing around their ears. "Well, not entirely my fault," he amended, when Kiku did not so much as turn. And then he crossed his arms and deepened his pout, as Kiku turned to face him, an entirely placid expression on his face. Despite the attention that he was now ( ... )
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A beat - a heartbeat; a dead-beat - and Yao whips his head around, shaking off a couple snowflakes, even as he can feel the wind hissing at his ears, numbing his nose (and he has the distinct, but background, feeling that his chest is thudding even louder than the whorls of winds around them). Kiku, who is buried up to his knees in snow, because the frozen flakes are just piling on the shambled inner parts of the Benz, is finally getting a little bit of color into his cheeks.
"Oh God, aru!" Yao half-wails, snapping into action, "I ( ... )
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(it is, after all, best to ask the Queen of these sort of things! :D)
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