wof oneshots

wishing on flowers | qinter whump

hanahaki qinter au💪💪 its whump/angst time baby😜

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Winter dropped the letter from Qibli to the floor, his knees giving out from below him. He collapsed to the floor, a shaky breath caught in his throat as he choked on a wailing-cry. Tears welled in his eyes, running rapidly down his scaly cheeks, the world turning blurry in front of him as his eyes filled with salty tears. He felt a prick of pain in his chest, a pain he was so used to feeling now that he had lost hope that Qibli loved him.

The letter from Qibli had stated that he and Moon were together, and Qibli knows how much Winter loved her. He was sorry, but Moon had chosen to be with him, even when Qibli had asked her about Winter. He then asked if Winter wanted to meet up and visit them.

It was true, Winter loved Moon. But he had loved her. His heart had moved on when he knew how much Moon loved Qibli more. 

But his heart hadn't given up on Qibli, much to Winter's dismay.

Shaking, Winter lifted his talons to read the letter again. A lone tear fell onto the paper with a soft thud. He got up shakily, set the letter on a nearby table, and stopped dead in front of a mirror. He stared at his reflection, taking in his shitty appearance, worn out gaze, and the unkempt, dull appearance of his usually shiny scales. Winter swallowed thickly, heaving a sigh. He had to get himself together. It started now. No more bullshit. 

He stared himself in the eyes sternly. He knew Qibli would never love him. He had to get over it. Get. Over. It.

He growled softly to himself, then winced as a familiar sharp pain pierced his lungs. He tried to ignore it, but he knew it wouldn't go away.

Winter shook his head, heading outside to the river next to his new home in Sanctuary. He dived in the frigid water, cupping his talons to make a bowl of water in his palms. He rubbed the water over his face. He had to wake up. Winter hauled himself out of the river, shaking his whole body free of the cold water. He looked up to the sky, sighing yet again, then flared his wings, taking off to the open sky above.

He soared. The wind rushed through his ears, across his wings, past each of his scales. He felt free, ever since he had locked himself up in his home after the pain in his chest started. He dove for the hot deserts of the Kingdom of Sand, the basking heat scorching him and forming sweat along his body. He flew higher up, away from the heat, into the wind. A few SandWings below looked up at him, but didn't really seem to care. The sunlight turned his pale scales into beautiful cobalt chips of ice that held a thousand shades of colour. Winter held his head high, his antlers sticking out from the icicle-like ruff around his neck. Finally, he neared the SandWing palace, and he dove down to the burning sand dunes below. His talons met shifting sand, making it hard to walk casually, but he got the hang of it as he came closer to the doors of the palace. Two SandWings stood guard, watching him as he fought the relentless heat. 

He blinked up at the guards and then dipped his head slightly. "Winter of the IceWings. I am here to visit Queen Thorn's advisor Qibli, as he requested to it."

The guards nodded and one stood over to the side, letting Winter enter. The other guard stepped up beside him, visibly getting a chill as she stood next to Winter's cold scales. "I will be traveling with you, Sir," she said. Winter nodded, letting her lead the way to Qibli's room, up on the third floor. The guard knocked her claw on the door, stepping back to wait for Qibli to answer. Suddenly, Winter's heart began to pound, truly aware of what he was doing.

Seeing Qibli and Moon together. Qibli belonging to someone else. Qibli not loving him. Qibli seeing you in this condition, where you are in terrible pain because you've got some dumbass disease that grows flowers in your lungs when the dragon you're in love with doesn't love you back. Qibli. Qibli. Qibli. Qibli, was all he could think of. He nearly gave hinself away to panic, when the door swung open. Winter's breath caught in his throat. The golden figure of the dragon he would do so much for. His dark eyes, his golden-tan scales, his freckles, his smile, his everything. Winter knew he would die for this ridiculous dragon. And he would be glad to.