A/N: So I've actually decided to upload this fanfic! I don't understand how some people are able to upload things so easily, I'm so self-conscious when it comes to my writing. ; o ; Songs listened to for inspiration while writing: [DISCLAIMER: I don't own aaaaanythin'! Not ROTG, any of the songs mentioned or you, Reader!]
You guys have a skill that I hope I shall one day have!
I didn't actually have a specific gender for Reader in mind while I was writing this, so sorry if you feel that some part are a little too 'feminine' for Male!Reader. D:
Also, if any of y'all are ever near Solva in Wales in the UK, you must visit! It's only a small village but wow it is so beautiful.
I apologise for any bad spelling and/or grammar, it's been a while since I wrote. xD
Meteor by Miku Hatsune
Hirari, Hirari by Miku Hatsune
Alice by Miku Hatsune
Last Night, Good Night by Miku Hatsune
Pretty much all just slow, peaceful ballad songs.~
Chapter 1
- 1704 -
Standing on the edge of the cliff, you looked out upon the ocean. Your arms were spread, reaching out as you sang to the horizon. You closed your eyes and felt the strong wind whipping your (H/L) (H/C) locks, calling to you over the edge of the cliff, beckoning you to jump out into it.
You finish your song and open your eyes, their (E/C) colour enhanced in the orange light of the sun as it sets on the horizon far ahead.
The wind's whispers grow stronger in the absence of your voice, it promises a false sense of flight and freedom. You refuse to listen to its calls, but as the sun fully sets and the moon reappears in its place, a sense of tranquillity washes over you and you feel the moon calling to you also.
Reaching your hand out, you long to break the chains holding you to the ground. Reminders of the wind's promises of flight and freedom appear in your mind, and you allow them to take you.
The wind gives gentle pushes and pulls and the moon seems to get bigger. With your hand still outstretched, you feel one last gust of the ferocious wind as it helps to lift you up, over the edge.
You feel absolute calm, no longer feeling the ground beneath your feet, just the gentle caress of the wind. You never take your eyes off of the bright moon above you.
And all of a sudden,
you're falling.
Falling.
Falling…
- 1843 -
Meandering through the woods, you spy a grey squirrel, looking behind schedule as it attempts to dig into the ground that has been hardened by the fast approaching winter.
You chuckle lightly at its efforts and approach the small ball of fluff with silent footsteps. The squirrel sees you coming closer and its poofy tail flicks slightly, black eyes watching your movements closely. Although the creatures of this forest know your presence to not be a threat, a few are still fairly cautious.
You slow down and lower yourself into a crouch, smiling gently at the tiny creature. You reach out to it cautiously, trying not to scare it. The squirrel turns toward you, its nose twitching as your hand comes closer.
It flinches when your fingertips make gentle contact with the top of its head, and you start to hum quietly. A careful breeze flows through the trees in response to your tune, and the squirrel grips onto your hand with fragile paws and pulls its body up with ease onto your hand.
You smile at the animal, stroking its soft back. A small snowflake floats down and lands on your wrist.
You look up through the gaps in the already leafless trees and notice that it's starting to snow.
Your smile grows and you lower your hand back down to the ground, the squirrel scurrying off. You say good bye to the creature and look back up to the sky.
Manipulating the wind around you by a means you have yet to understand, you float lightly off of the ground, lifting yourself above the branches of the trees.
You love snow. You love the way it so delicately moves, graciously dancing with the wind. You don't keep track of the days you've been on your own, but you do keep track of the days between each snow fall and as you fly through the light snowflakes, you bring with you a small gust of wind, creating a flurry in your wake, sighing at the return of the near forgotten feeling of fresh falling snow.
But if there's one thing you love more than snow, it's sharing the excitement with others when they first sight the little white snowflakes.
Inhaling the cold air in a deep breath, you manipulate the wind to carry you to the near small village that resides at the bottom of the mountain the forest is on.
With the snow fall picking up and getting heavier by the second, you approach the village and hear the yelps and shouts of small children jumping around in the newly falling snow.
Making a graceful landing, you introduced yourself as the only name you've known to have – (Y/N), Bringer of the Winds. You then join the children in their running and twirling until the snow had stuck and was just about deep enough for snowballs to be made. You then bent over and scooped up enough snow from the ground and packed it into a neat ball. You then panned around slowly, spying out a victim, and when you spotted a particularly wildly excited little boy, you then threw the snowball, hitting him on the back of his black coat.
"Hey!" the boy shouted, hands reaching behind his back as he spun around, looking for the snowball culprit.
You widened your eyes and avoided looking at the small child, feigning innocence, before you cracked a slight smirk and slyly pointed at the little girl a ways behind you.
'Her! ~' you mimed while continuing to point. The boy then gathered up his own snowball.
"Revenge!" he yells, then he pulled back his hand before flinging the snowball forward,
"Watch it!" she shrieks, her hands flying to the cold, melting snow on the back of her neck.
"That's what you get!" he replies, poking his tongue out at her in a playful manner.
"That's it- SNOWBALL FIIIIGHT!"
Cheers erupted from the surrounding children and all of a sudden the air was filled with packed balls of snow. You dodged the incoming snow and your gentle laughter rang out.
You feel a sharp pain followed by a dull ache in your abdomen. Your laughter cuts off and you double over in pain, holding your stomach. You inhale sharply through gritted teeth and take a glance behind you at the child who had just run straight through your body.
'Haven't felt that in a while,' you think to yourself, 'it's been so long since I was last with people after all.'
You straighten up and floated over to a tree trunk on the side of the street then leaned against it, your hand still holding your stomach.
You're not sure how long you've been here but in all of your time in existence, you've never had a single conversation. You've long since accepted that the people cannot see, hear or feel you and you have yet to stumble across someone – except for animals of course – who can. You tended to keep to yourself more often than not, so it's no surprise you haven't come across anybody yet.
But you didn't particularly mind, you were happy to just sing with the wind and fly about freely.
Although, there is one person you have heard the people speaking of that you thought you'd very much like to meet someday. His name spoken by imaginative children on the best snow days and by loving parents as they wrap up their child in coats, scarfs and gloves before they venture out into the snow.
"Another snow day! Thank you, Jack Frost!"
"Watch out for Jack Frost nipping at your nose!"
The children seemed to think he was responsible for their snow, and if that was true, you would very much like to thank him for the snow he brings; you do love your snow days.
You keep the hope of meeting him one day under wraps. You're not completely sure he even exists, he could just be another human myth. You've never met anybody else who can manipulate their environment. And even if you did, who's to say they couldn't see you either?
Sighing to yourself, you stand up straight, bid the still playing children farewell, and call the wind. You're lifted off of the ground like you weigh no more than a single fallen autumn leaf and you carry yourself back to your home; the faraway cliffs of Solva, Wales.