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javierpinme · 3 years

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Inn Over Your Head

Pairing: Contractor!Zach Wellison x f!reader

Word count: 10.3k (I know, I know. Yeesh. 👀)

Rating: Explicit (Anyone under 18 years old, go away)

Warnings: mentioning of loss of parents, slooooowwww burn, oral (f receiving), masturbation (f), existential crisis?, unprotected sex (wrap it in real life but you know fiction), praise kink (are we surprised it’s me), idiots to lovers, use of vibrator, mild angst, brief mention of reader wanting kids, sickeningly sweet fluff (I think this is it but if you see anything let me know)

Summary: “I have all these empty rooms and I’m not a terrible cook so I was thinking w-what if you…stayed here? We wouldn’t even have to see each other unless working on renovations. Not that I don’t like seeing you, but if privacy is an issue.” Jesus christ. You stammer your way to the end of your proposition and avoid staring at his face in fear of rejection. There is a pause and you try to retract what you said before you get interrupted by him gently saying your name.

A/N: I never intended to make this one shot wonder so long, but here we are. And look, before anyone says anything I am very well aware that I said that I was going to cut down which believe me I did. I really did, but I also added more so it kind of balances out. This is my first smut piece, so yeah. That’s it. This is about as self-indulgent as it gets. In my brain contractor is the job I imagine him having post his job in B&S. 🤷🏻‍♀️

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***

“No, no, no. Ugh!”

In your haste to move your kettle on the counter and boil some water for tea you accidentally knock one of the screws you had unattached from the vintage sink into the garbage disposal. All you wanted to do was see what kind of screws it would need since the screws that it currently had were a little eroded. You thought you were being proactive since you knew next to nothing about owning an inn. Closing your eyes you take a deep breath and grip the counter trying to ground yourself. You can do this, right?

You were recently single after a long-term relationship that went south. The two of you wanted different things, but it wasn’t until recently when that all came to a head. You’ve always wanted to get married, have a couple kids, and you were vocal about that. You had thought your boyfriend was on the same page as you, but when the topic of marriage came up he told you that he wasn’t on the “same level” as you which absolutely broke you because of how long you were together.

Which brings you to where you are at the current moment. You adored inns as a child; they always held some of your best memories with your parents before they passed. Every summer as a little girl you would travel to different states and you loved the historic feel that seemed to encompass within them. Whether it was the aroma of fresh pastries wafting in the air traveling to your bedroom in the morning or the fact that there were several generations before you that sat on the very same furniture as you. You felt a little lost and wished you had your parents with you to help you navigate this change in your life, but they never would be and that brought you down even more.

“Well, hardware store it is then.” One last glare at your kettle like it betrayed you and you walk out the door with the faucet in hand.

“How many different screws can one sink have?” You exasperated to no one other than your own ears.

You dig through all types of screws and none of them are fitting correctly causing your annoyance to increase. In the midst of you rolling your eyes at the situation you spot a figure in the front of the store greeting the cashier and fail to remember why you were irritated in the first place. The first feature that comes to your attention is how tall he is and the warmth of his smile when he passes by the employees. Your feet think before your brain does and move of their own accord silently following him through the aisles you definitely didn’t deem necessary to be in on any other day. You start picking up supplies only to put them back down to make yourself look less obvious about your ogling.

You can only see him from behind, but even with being covered by the navy and burnt orange plaid flannel he’s wearing you can tell his shoulders are broad. He rolls up his sleeves while grabbing what he needs and you almost moaned at the sight of the veins on his forearms. His hands are calloused as far as you can tell which means he probably does physical labor. You’ve always loved a man that can work with his hands.

An employee walks up to you asking if you needed any assistance which you politely declined and by the time she comes out of view the target of your attention is also nowhere to be found. You sigh in disappointment and make your way back to the aisle you actually needed something from. Your hands mindlessly grab the first box of screws you can find on the shelf while fantasizing about the size of his hands on how they would feel around your—

You gasp at the intrusion of your beginning to be very filthy thoughts when the subject of that fantasy comes into view from the opposite aisle and smiles at you. You blink subtly shaking your head and thank whoever is up above that there is no such thing as mind readers. The close distance between you even with the separation of shelves permits you to appreciate his prominently curved nose, his ebony eyes, and the dimples that seem to display even deeper as his smile grows when you are silent following his introduction. A chuckle breaks you out of your daydream and you ask him to repeat what he said. Your brain filters back in when he tells you his name is Zach and you return it with yours.

“Working on a home project?” He nods to the box that is sitting in your hand that you conveniently forgot about.

“U-Uh, yeah. I dropped one of the screws that at one point was attached to this faucet in my garbage disposal when trying to make tea so I’m buying replacements for it.” You stutter out holding the faucet in the air when he disappears from your peripheral leaving you confused at the interaction.

The sound of boots filter in and become louder prompting you to turn around and almost knocks the wind out of you when you realize how close he’s standing in front of you; the scent of bergamot and sandalwood overwhelming your senses. God, is this how he always smells?

“Well, let's see what we got here.” He grabs the faucet out of your hand inspecting the hole in it and eyes the box of screws in your hand while yours are focusing on how much bigger his hand is in comparison to what he’s holding. “First of all, these are completely the wrong screws for this. This is vintage. They don’t make these anymore. You’re not going to find those here.” He chuckles out which you misinterpret for teasing when you’re already a little sensitive from the events of the day.

“You know what? I think I’m capable enough that I don’t need a self-righteous know-it-all to tell me what to do.” You huff out in frustration at his picking of your unknown insecurity.

“Just tryin’ to help you out. That’s all, sweetheart. Didn’t mean any disrespect.” Zach raises his eyebrows and lifts his hands up in surrender.

“Thanks for your help, but I’m good from here.” You emphasize none too delicately pulling the faucet out of his hand and walking out the store in embarrassment empty handed.

***

“I have no idea what I’m doing, Kit. I mean I'm way in over my head with thinking that I could even do this with no experience. I can’t even pick the right fucking screws. Something so simple. My parents would be so proud.” You release a self deprecating chuckle and bury your head into your hands ignorant of the fact that there are other tables of customers trying to enjoy their meal. You feel the warmth of your friend’s fingers wrapping around your wrists to bring them back to the table.

“Hey, you’re doing a brave thing and your parents would be so proud of you for creating your own adventure on something you always enjoyed as a family. If I could help you know that I would in a heartbeat, but I might have someone to recommend. He is an absolute sweetheart. He dropped everything to help when my pipes burst. He’s a former marine and was spit out by the VA so he ended up homeless.” Your heart breaks for whoever it is at that moment, but you make a mental note not to meddle since it wasn’t your business.

“He’s not anymore but-speak of the devil. Zach!!” Kit calls out to wave him over and you momentarily freeze hoping it isn’t the same man that you snapped at at the store.

You slowly shift in your chair to face him and you feel heat cascading from your chest to your neck at the confirmation that it is indeed the same man. You spot that same warm smile pointed in your friend’s direction and you see the shift in it the moment he recognizes you, but he never breaks it which brings you an odd comfort. He was attractive in the fluorescent lighting of the store but even more so with the sun settling into night. Kit smiles at you unaware of the predicament you’re in and catches up with him while you’re trying to appear nonchalant about seeing him in front of you again. She introduces you and all you can do is squeak out a hello.

“The reason I called you over here is because she just purchased an inn and she has no idea what she’s doing. She is stressing about being in over her head and I know you have experience with doing that kind of thing so I figured I could hook you guys up.” You can’t stop the wince from forming on your face at the words your friend is repeating to the man that you were so hell bent on showing that you’re capable.

“Well, I wouldn't go that far.” You cover your embarrassment with a laugh, but it comes out unsteady.

“What do you mean? You said it yourself.” Kit narrows her eyes at your reply and repeats your words much to your chagrin.

“I thought you said that you were capable and didn’t need help from a self-righteous know-it-all. I believe those are the exact words you used.” Even with the repeating your stinging words it sounds like honey coming out of his lips. Your eyes meet his with what you now realize was teasing in a different sense than what you assumed it was in the store. Your defensive stance deflates and you can’t help the laugh that comes out. He’s poking fun at you and you start to feel a little ridiculous for your outburst.

“I….deserve that.”

Zach’s smile grows even wider accentuating that dimple again and shrugs his shoulders in mock agreement. Something about you made him want to help you and he’s trying to convince himself that it has nothing to do with how beautiful you are.

“I’ll help you. Here’s my number. Text me the address. We can do a walkthrough and make a list of anything that takes priority.” Zach grabs one of the napkins on the table and pulls a pen out of the pocket of his plaid flannel to write it down. The fragrance of bergamot and sandalwood tickling your nose again and making you yearn to know how that smell would mix with the perspiration of certain activities. An awareness hits you at the last second that has you ungracefully call out his name.

“Wait! I won’t be able to pay you.” Your voice starts wavering as you’re nearing the end of your sentence. I put everything into this.

“Well then I guess it’s a good thing I’m not expecting to get paid. Text me.” He motions to his phone and walks off. You turn around to face Kit again and she has a shit-eating grin on her face with her arms crossed in amusement.

“What was that?” She raises her eyebrows at you and you finally manage to maintain a straight face now that the physical manifestation of your awkwardness has left. “What was what?” You drink your tea to hide the obvious smile you hid behind your mug.

“Uh, that. You had a moment.” Kit points between you and the empty space where a cute brunette had resided a minute ago. You shrug your shoulders and feign innocence which makes her even more suspicious than she was before. “Okay, it was nothing. You’re paying then.” You roll your eyes and release a quiet sigh in relief at the drop of that subject.

***

You pace back and forth over analyzing a text message you had prewritten the night before to send this morning. “Personal or impersonal?” The arm holding your cellphone goes to your side and you laugh at your overthinking of such a simple task.

So you just crank out a quick message of your address and begrudgingly tap a smiley emoji putting your phone down on the coffee table before you regret it. The ding of an incoming message goes off in the otherwise silent living room if you count the rhythmic pounding in your chest at the anticipation of his answer as silence. You try not to think about the speed at which you walked from the other side of the room to see what he said. Sounds good! I’ll drop by later today and take a look at what we’ve got ahead of us. Saving you from the total embarrassment of being overeager he also included a smiley emoji at the end of his sentence making you slightly more relaxed.

***

Consciously you know that this is not a date, but that doesn’t stop your illogical brain from changing your outfit three times in the last half hour. He’s just here for a tour of the inn and you’re working together now, kind of. This is the first male interaction you’ve had since your breakup and your heart feels like it's in hyperdrive at that. You wring your hands together waiting near the front entrance for his arrival. A knock raps against the door and you take a deep steady breath before opening it to a to-go cup of coffee with that same cute brunette attached to it.

He greets you with a soft smile and a good morning. “That was fast. Were you near the door?” He hands you the coffee and you try to hide your mortification that he noticed.

“No, I was moving some stuff around when you knocked. Thank you. I love that café. They have the best coffee in town.” You open the door wider to allow him to walk inside.

Zach clears his throat and walks inside carrying a clipboard in the opposite hand; the sound of his workman’s boots on the creaking floorboards. “You’re welcome. I wasn’t sure if you liked it since tea seems to be your preference.” You swallow a gasp at him noticing what drink you had during your second meeting. He clicks the pen he had in his pocket and immediately goes into business mode writing out future renovation projects throughout each room.

You both squeeze into the powder room and you mention that you want to replace the toilet. “I don’t want to open up with that one. I want a new one.”

“Why? It’s clearly functioning. I thought you liked historic things.” He grumbles proving his point by flushing it and raising his eyebrows in your direction.

You narrow your eyes and cross your arms bringing his attention to your chest. “Yes...I do. I’m just not comfortable with the hundreds of years of shits that took place in it. We’re getting a new one. Add it to the list.” You walk out of the tight space in defiance and effectively end the debate. You might have imagined the huff he released and you definitely missed him calling you stubborn. You walk through all the rooms within the inn skipping your bedroom since that wasn’t on your list of priorities before guests rooms and you weren’t sure if you could handle the visual of Zach standing in your bedroom with you.

You walk downstairs in silence and make your way back to the front entrance. “Well, we have a shit ton of work cut out for us. It’s not going to be easy, but I might be able to shave some additional costs where we can.”

He must see a flash of irritation in your eyes and brings his palm up in defense. “Woah--hey. That’s why I’m here. To help you get through this. Together.” The last word a plea to understand he means no harm in his words.

A warmth fills your chest at the last word. Together. You tamp down that feeling as soon as it appears. You nod, shooting an apologetic smile his way before focusing on a scratch on the floor. “On the topic of money since as you know I can’t pay you I was thinking of some alternatives.” Your eyes finally meet his to see him shaking his head telling you it wasn’t necessary, but you insist on letting you finish your words.

“I have all these empty rooms and I’m not a terrible cook so I was thinking w-what if you...stayed here? We wouldn’t even have to see each other unless working on renovations. Not that I don’t like seeing you, but if privacy is an issue.” Jesus christ. You stammer your way to the end of your proposition and avoid staring at his face in fear of rejection. There is a pause and you try to retract what you said before you get interrupted by him gently saying your name.

“Yeah, okay. I’d have to go home and pack, but yeah.” Your heart flutters at the scene of that familiar dimple you’ve come to love directed at you.

“Okay. I’ll see you tomorrow at 7 then?” Your voice picks up volume now that he’s given you his answer. You open the door to let him leave and he turns around saluting you with a grin. You could get used to that.

***

Like clockwork, Zach arrives at 7AM on the dot which you tease him for while helping him bring in his belongings.

"Punctuality is a virtue, sweetheart."

You remember Kit mentioning he was a former marine, but you keep that information to yourself while directing him to the bedroom he will be sleeping in. You inform him that breakfast is just about ready and leave him to familiarize himself with his new surroundings alone.

Zach appears from the opening of the kitchen while you’re plating the french toast slices with berries. He pours the two of you mugs of coffee and you sit on the stools at the island to dig into your breakfast. At first bite your eyes widen and feel a heat rising to your cheeks at the filthiest groan Zach releases. "Damn, if this is what I get everytime you cook I will be very satisfied." Me too.

***

The both of you start to really pick up a rhythm and tackle your projects room by room. There are even some days he beats you in waking up in the morning, but his idea of a hearty breakfast is toast. You forgive that when he gives you the largest mug you own of coffee to soften the blow of his lackluster cooking skills.

This morning you’re going to be working on the faucet that continuously haunts you and you change into a worn white t-shirt with leggings in case you’re doing any dirty work at any point in the day. It’s been spraying water erratically since yesterday when you tried to make chamomile tea for you both before going to bed.

“Alright, let's see what we got here.” Zach tinkers with the aerator and it immediately starts spitting out water at him. In the midst of his struggle to turn the faucet off he isn’t fast enough because when he eventually turns it off he is absolutely drenched. There is a silence in the room other than the sound of droplets hitting the floor before you break out in laughter at the sight before you.

“Zach, you look like a wet rat.” You put your hands on your knees and lean in a folded position losing your composure. Your stomach starts cramping and you wipe the tears in your eyes basking in the moment.

He huffs in annoyance and you hear him trying to shake off the excess water on his clothes. “You done?” You’re not even remotely done, but his tone makes you act otherwise.

“Yeah, I’m-ZACH!!” He turns the sink back on and grabs you by the waist to bring you in front of the stream in sweet revenge. You don’t even have time to react before you end up in the same state he’s in drenched to the bone. He finally turns the faucet off and you force yourself out of his arms to slap him repeatedly.

"Now who's the wet rat?" He grabs a piece of your hair and moves it behind your ear. That tentative touch alone could have made you melt right there and then.

The boyish laugh he lets out has you beam with delight and you take a moment to admire each other before his smile falls. You furrow your brows and follow his line of sight; your first instinct should be to cover your chest but you swear you’re not imagining the swirl of lust filling his eyes. Wearing mesh undergarments today probably wasn’t your most brilliant idea.

Your breath hitches when you follow where his eyes travel. Your lips, to your neck, and slowly returning his gaze back to your chest causing a heat to pool between your legs. Out of the corner of your eye Zach’s hand that was flat on the counter twitches as if he’s fighting the urge to touch you and he takes a step closer before stepping back to this original spot to your dismay. He shoots his face away from you; cheeks tinted red before clearing his throat and huskily speaks.

“You can go ahead and get changed. I’ll still be here fighting with it.”

You nod your head and sigh in disappointment at the broken moment before making your way back upstairs to change. You can’t figure out why he hesitated when it was clear to both of you what you wanted. You throw on a dry shirt and walk back to the kitchen hoping the awkwardness has faded.

Zach is still in the same spot messing with the faucet, but has the water shut off to avoid any more accidents.

“We should just buy a new faucet, Zach. It’s hopeless.”

He shoots you a glare startling you when he breaks his reserved nature. “No. It’s part of the history and just because something is broken doesn’t mean they’re disposable. They deserve a second chance.”

You sense a shift in the atmosphere and you know he isn’t talking only about the faucet anymore. You slowly nod while picking at a chip on the counter and your mouth speaks before your brain has time to filter it.

“Like from when you were home-” You shut yourself up as soon as you started. You freeze hoping that he didn’t hear you, but the pause in him working on the faucet confirms that he did.

“How...how do you know about that?” His tone is as quiet as you’ve ever heard it and it breaks your heart even more to know that you’re the cause of it.

Your sharp inhale fills the room and you save yourself some time to come up with an explanation by pushing the flakes into the sink from your frantic picking. Regardless of planning out your words your voice still quivers when you speak.

“Someone told me. I’m so sorry, Zach. I was never going to mention it, but-” You never get to finish your apology when you hear the padding of his bare feet on the tile leaving the room. You turn the knob to the sink—looks like it’s fixed but you royally fucked up.

He avoids you the rest of the day by working on projects on the opposite side of the inn. There's no explosive argument. No demanding an apology for invading his privacy. You would have preferred that over the silent treatment. You deserved that. It only seems fitting to your situation when the cracking of thunder roars outside like the universe has been wronged and its demanding vengeance. I know.

***

You’re cleaning the living room area wallowing in your self pity when the flickering of the lamp catches your eye. Before you can even process the thought you can’t see anything other than the lightning in the distance through the window. Figures. The power must have gone out.

Your line of vision follows the stomping from the floor above you and a deep exhale can be heard from the man that has been avoiding you all day.

“You alright?” You can’t see him through the pitch blackness, but you know if the creaking of the staircase is any consolation he’s on his way down to you.

You blindly feel your way around to the dining room table where the candles you purchased earlier in the day to give Zach some space are located. “Yeah, I’m just going to go grab some candles.” You know he can’t see you, but you hear a grunt in approval.

You start walking back into the living area extending your arm in the air to avoid ramming into something before you feel a hand gently grab your forearm to direct you back to him. The coffee table screeches from being shoved away and his hand smooths down to your own to pull you to the floor. His hand is so warm around yours prompting your heart to lose its stable rhythm. He lets go way too soon and you fight to shove down the whine that was crawling its way up your throat in protest. The flick of a lighter goes off illuminating the room in a soft orange glow while Zach finishes lighting the other candles. If it wasn’t so awkward it would actually be pretty romantic.

You wonder what would have happened if you had never opened your mouth; so critical of yourself over your word vomit that you don’t hear Zach saying your name. Your attention is brought back to the man in front of you and the dam breaks spilling apology after apology. His hand hovers in front of you and asks if you could politely shut up.

You shift yourself backwards to lean your back against the front of the couch and he mirrors the position next to you taking a deep breath before he speaks. “I was homeless. I was in the marines.” He lifts up the sleeve of his shirt to show you the tattoo on his right arm.

“When I got back I couldn’t adjust to civilian life. I got diagnosed with PTSD and the VA helped for a little bit until they didn’t. It would have been easier if I had a drug problem, but I had a place to sleep problem which is how I ended up sleeping in a park.” Your heart shatters at the visual and you intertwine your fingers with his rubbing gentle circles on his knuckles in comfort.

“I mean I had to sleep with a pipe at all times because you just never knew when the next threat was going to be. I was scared. Scared of being jumped and scared of when my next meal was going to be. I’m not mad at you for bringing it up. I just...for once wanted to be someone other than that homeless guy. I didn’t want you to think of me like that.” A humorless laugh falls out of his mouth and you scooch closer until your thighs touch, leaning your head on his shoulder.

“Zach, I would never think of you like that. I can’t even begin to imagine how scared you were. You really want to know how I see you? I see a kind hearted man that makes everyone he talks to smile. I see a man who dropped everything to help a friend with a problem and not to mention a complete stranger who definitely didn’t deserve it after certain rude comments. I see someone really brave and despite the circumstances you overcame it. That’s what I see.” You feel his head move to lay on the crown of your head and with the exhale he releases so does the tension from earlier.

You’re not sure when you closed your eyes or how long but it isn’t until Zach breaks the tranquility of the moment that you open them. “What about you? What’s your story with the inn? Since we’ve established you don’t know what you’re doing.” He flinches in pain when you pinch his side at the remark, but neither of you can stop the smile directed at the other.

“Well. The cliché story is that I’m recently single after being in a relationship for years. I thought we were both on the same page as far as marriage and kids goes, but he either changed his mind or appeased me to get me to shut up about it.” You sigh and the tear in the rug becomes really interesting until you feel Zach squeeze your hand encouraging you to continue.

This memory does actually make you smile unlike the other one. “When I was a little girl I traveled with my parents all over the country, always staying in inns. I mean, really old historic ones like this one. When my parents died I was devastated and I guess I felt like I was holding onto a piece of their memory when I bought this place. That I wasn’t completely alone because I had this.” Zach’s lips press into your head and you melt at the significance of the gesture.

“There’s this one memory I have of being in Cape May with them. I never forgot it because we stayed in what was called the “lavender room” and it was as you can probably figure out all shades of purple. Well, in this particular inn they had a clawfoot tub in the bathroom and I begged my parents to let me use it. I couldn’t get over the fact that I could use the lavender scented bubble bath in the lavender room. They wouldn’t let me and I was devastated so every trip afterwards they would bring lavender body wash to appease me when I would ask. Purple walls or not. I was a brat as a kid.”

“You got a thing for tubs?” You hear more than see the grin on Zach’s face and you hum in confirmation.

“When I bought this place and saw there was an attached bathroom to one of the rooms I was ecstatic because in the picture it had this beautiful vintage clawfoot tub. It felt like everything fit into place and then when I walked in I could see where there used to be a tub but it was an empty space so you can only imagine my disappointment.” You laugh at the memory of your mini temper tantrum at that realization.

“Sorry.” Zach rests his cheek against your temple and you bury your head into the crook of his neck.

“There are worse things. Maybe someday I’ll fulfill that dream, but it just isn’t high on our priority list right now with everything we need to get done.”

“Hm.” You bring your head up to ask him what he meant by that not realizing how close he was to you. He meets you halfway slotting his nose against yours and you stop breathing afraid that you’ll somehow break out of the trance you’re in. The silent question in his eyes asking if this was okay and you nod.

Your gaze follows his tongue peeking out to lick his lips and you raise your head to surge forward until you’re blinded by the lights turning back on. Zach’s forehead presses against your own and you grin at the devastation taking over his features even with his eyes closed. He opens his eyes and the boyish grin returns on his face at the comedic timing of it all.

“Come on.”

You blow out the candles now that you don’t need them. He grabs your hand lifting you up off the ground and presses that hand on your lower back to move you towards the stairs. There’s a comfortable stillness that you don’t feel it’s necessary to fill it in with conversation. You walk to your respective bedrooms wishing each other a goodnight before closing your door.

***

Sleep is not coming easily to you, too frustrated at the recollection of events of the day. You can’t help but laugh at the cruel joke the universe seems to be playing on you while staring at the ceiling. All the interruptions it seems to be inciting on you just when it seems like that cord of sexual tension will finally snap, the push and pull between you finally coming to a head. The only sounds heard in the room are the crickets outside now that the storm has died down and the rapidly growing thumping of your heart and core. Your brain replaying and rewriting that moment with Zach in the kitchen. What if he hadn’t stopped when he had? What if he had succumbed to the obvious desire you reflected back?

There is a moment of hesitation between you; a question before you surge forward at the same time in a bruising kiss. Zach’s tongue begs for entrance and you grant it lightly sucking his bottom lip between yours. A groan similar to that morning while eating breakfast comes out of his mouth before he presses you against the counter and the evidence of his arousal on your hip. His one hand is playing with the bottom hem of your shirt while the other wraps around your lower back; not quite reaching where he wants but respecting boundaries until he requests permission.

“Is this okay?”

Your eyes flicker between his eyes and lips; you grab his hand slowly, never breaking eye contact to move his hand under your shirt until he reaches your breast—“Yes.” He curses rolling his hips into yours squeezing your clothed breast not able to hide the grin at your responsive moan. You impatiently remove your shirt and bra baring yourself under his stare.

“Fuck, these beautiful tits. These beautiful fucking tits.” He returns his hand to your breast using his index and middle finger to pinch and pull at your nipples alternating between the two. His hips grind into yours hitting your clit just right and you’re powerless to fight the whimper crawling up your throat.

The sound of a drawer opening and frantic rustling breaks the silence in the room before you find what you’re looking for. Your soaked pussy begging for attention and you’re hopeless to ignore the ache. All you can hope is Zach is either asleep or too far away to hear the vibrating circles focusing on your clit.

Your fingers run through and pull his hair at his ministrations, his hands smoothing down your back, kneading your ass until he lifts you onto the counter. He grasps the back of your knees to spread you further allowing him space to admire the view of your breasts, smoothing his fingers up and down your thighs. You cup his cheeks and pull him back to your lips, your tongues fighting for dominance and dancing melodically all at once.

A soft gasp breaks it when you feel Zach’s thumb circling your clit through your thin leggings creating a perfect friction. You could come on this alone until his hand moves to your waistband slipping into your panties to return to your clit rubbing those soft circles.

His middle and index finger trace down your folds to your entrance. “Fuck, you’re so wet. I want you to come for me sweetheart. I want to hear-”

You bite the back of your hand just in time to muffle the moan you let out when you come hard, maintaining feather-like strokes to prolong your high. Your heart beating erratically until you slowly come down evening out your breaths. You open your eyes to blindly find your way to the attached bathroom to clean up and crawl back into bed. Even after relief, sleep still doesn’t come easy.

***

A groan escapes you followed by a yawn while you’re making coffee the next morning. After taking care of your needs last night you only managed to sleep for a few hours before the sun was rising.

“Good morning.”

Zach lazily walks into the kitchen and you fight the giggle at the state of his sleep mussed hair. You yearn to run your fingers through it and your fantasy from last night comes roaring to the surface causing a heat to rise in your cheeks.

You clear your throat and hope he doesn’t notice your internal dilemma. “Do you want breakfast?”

He walks behind you to open the cupboard, pulling two mugs out to fill them up, shaking his head at your question. “Can’t. There’s an estate sale going on today and I thought I might see what they have to bring back here. Now that the groundwork has been laid as far as renovations we’re just about at the point where we can consider a grand opening date.”

Your stomach bottoms out at the thought of an opening date. On the one hand you’re excited because this is what you’ve wanted but on the other hand that puts a deadline on your time with Zach. You must take too long to answer because his hand rubs your shoulder blade and he’s asking if you’re okay.

You get yourself together nodding your head while turning to face him. “Okay. I guess I’ll work outside and get the garden to something you can actually stand to look at.” You hope the lighthearted tone covers the distress on your face and it seems to because he’s already on his way out the door. You had gotten used to this little domestic bubble the two of you lived in, but it wasn’t real.

***

You’ve been working tirelessly all day picking at weeds and turning soil to get prepared for planting. Zach still hasn’t returned from the estate sale so you use this time to go to the plant store for supplies. Your mind wanders to Zach while shopping. Regardless of the fact he is helping you there was never agreement of what would happen afterwards. Logically speaking you would go your separate ways, but that thought made your stomach turn.

You couldn’t deny that you’ve grown feelings for him and the close quarters certainly haven’t aided in your denial since he is there everyday. Those lingering looks and unnecessary touches when passing coffee or tea to each other often made you wonder if he feels the same. That moment you shared in the kitchen has you thinking he does unless it was just the heat of the moment. You were practically almost half naked in front of him and that puts you down a spiral of self doubt of his possible feelings for you.

You’re carrying your bags of supplies opening the front door and pause when you hear loud grunting from multiple men. You kick the door closed and you’re about to panic until you hear Zach’s voice echoing which brings you at ease. “Uh, Zach? Everything okay?”

A curse shoots out and you’re about to walk over to the stairs before you hear Zach protest. “Y-Yeah, we’re good. Just go outside and finish up gardening. We got this.” At his reassurance you start planting some of the flowers you got at the store until dark.

***

You’re sweating like a pig by the time you’re finished and just want to relax when you hear Zach opening the door calling your name. “Wow. This looks amazing. You did a great job out here.” He’s sporting a proud smile on his face and you can’t help but mirror it.

“Thanks.”

He grabs your hand to help you up off the grass while you brush off the dirt from your leggings. “Come on. I have a surprise for you.”

His hand hovers on your lower back directing you to the stairs and tells you to close your eyes. “Surprise? You really expect me to go up these steps without seeing where I’m going?”

He takes a minute to think that through and ultimately grabs your arm to help you up the steps. You want to trace your steps to figure out where you’re going, but you don’t want to ruin whatever has him so excited so you choose to instead ignore it.

The first thing that hits you is the scent of lavender overwhelming your nose and the humidity in the air. Zach permits you to open your eyes and your knees almost buckle at the sight before you in your bathroom. There’s candles strewn about on all the open surfaces and tears blur your vision at what sits in the corner in what used to be an empty space. A clawfoot bathtub.

A throat being cleared brings you back to the present and you don’t think before you crash into him with a crushing hug. “Zach…”

Zach returns your hug bringing one of his hands to rest on the back of your head stroking your hair. “I was at that estate sale and saw it. It was pretty beaten up, but we gave it a fresh paint job to match your bathroom. I-I hope you like the color. It’s no lavender, but it wouldn’t have gone with the color scheme in here.”

Zach reluctantly lets you go and rubs the back of his neck nervously when you’re not having any kind of reaction. You’re too speechless to find the words to describe how cared for you feel right now. How much he cares for you. “Thank you.”

You see how the tension in his shoulders deflates at the confirmation that he did the right thing. “Of course. You work so hard. You deserve to relax.” He tells you to get into the bath before the water gets cold and walks out.

You release a contented sigh and dip deeper into the warmth of the scented bubbles; thinking about that cute brunette waltzing into your life when you desperately needed it. You think back to your earlier self doubt, but this puts that to bed. As kind hearted as he is this wasn’t something you do for just anyone. Maybe, just maybe, he returns your feelings and you’re determined to find out. You must have been in the bath a long time in your thoughts because the water starts to cool, suddenly realizing you didn’t have a change of clothes other than what you wore before you got in. You don’t want to put your clothes back on so you have no choice—

“Zach? Can you grab me some pajamas from my nightstand? I forgot them before I got in.”

“You got it!” Zach bypasses the bathroom and walks into your bedroom shaking the picture perfect visual of you right now. The bubbles being the only thing standing between your soft skin, flushed cheeks from the steam, and—the zipper on his pants never felt so uncomfortable after opening the first drawer. Definitely not that one. Maybe someday. He desperately hopes you let him.

He clears his throat and adjusts his pants, opening the second one to grab a pair of pajamas for you, knocking on the bathroom door to let you know he has them.

“Thanks. You can bring them in.”

You hear the creak of the floorboards from him shifting his weight on the other side and then a pause. “But you’re...taking a bath. I can drop it off in front of the door.”

“The bubbles are covering me. It’s okay. You can bring them.” You find it endearing that he’s so nervous even with the wall separating you. You hear a deep exhale and the knob being turned, his head poking in while covering his eyes.

You can’t control the laugh at his expense. “I said you couldn’t see anything. That’s not necessary.”

Zach clears his throat and you see his adam’s apple bob as he swallows. You don’t need to see his eyes to know the cogs are turning in his head. “I’ll keep them closed.” I won’t be able to fight the urge to join you in that tub and everything that comes with it.

He feels around the bathroom to deposit them on the counter and speeds out of the bathroom.

You think you hear him mumbling under his breath but you can’t make out the words.

You go about your normal nightly routine and head downstairs to Zach making chamomile tea for you both, depositing the mugs on the coffee table in the living room. The two of you sit on the couch consciously scooting closer until your thighs touch, enjoying each other’s company in silence.

You put your mug back on the coffee table and Zach’s arm swings on the back of the couch behind you, not quite touching the back of your neck but close enough to make the hairs stand up anyway. “Thank you. No one’s ever done something like that for me.”

“Anytime. You deserve that, you know? You’ve been working so hard and I know it hasn’t been smooth sailing so you deserve a relaxing moment or two. You can put yourself first sometimes. And you know, you’re not going to be needing me pretty soon so take it while you can. The work is almost done.” Your heart drops at the implication and you decide it’s now or never. When did your mouth get so dry?

“I-I’m always going to need you.”

Zach’s features soften at your words and you feel his fingers gently stroking your cheek, shifting to cup it. You subconsciously lick your lips bringing his attention to them and his thumb grazes your cheekbone.

“Can I kiss you?”

“Yes.” You’re not even embarrassed at your quick answer. You think you’d say yes to anything he would ask you.

He brings your face close to him, his hot breath tickling your face, and pulls you in for a chaste kiss. He breaks the kiss leaning his forehead against yours and breathes you in. “Fuck, you smell so good.”

“It’s the bubble bath, Zach.”

“Yeah, but it’s also just you. You smelled good before you got in the bath.” You narrow your eyes playfully but if you weren’t already sitting down your knees would have given out.

“I was sweaty and dirty.”

“It’s just the way you always smell.” You lean your elbow on the back of the couch, laying your cheek on your hand, and raise your eyebrows in false shock.

“I always smell like sweat?”

“What, no. That’s not what I mea-” He realizes you’re teasing him when he sees the smile you’re trying to hide behind your hand, forcing a laugh out of him. “You always bite back at everything I say.”

You close the distance between you with an inviting smile, a whisper away from his lips. “Yeah, but you like it.”

“I do. It’s what I like about you.” His thumb and index finger grasp your chin to pull you back in, but this one is not as chaste as the first kiss. He pulls your jaw down to open your mouth to him and licks into your mouth, massaging his tongue against yours. He releases a groan at your taste and oh—this one is so much better than what you heard in the kitchen. You use the opportunity to nip his bottom lip and he grabs your thighs to pull you into his lap; your hips straddling his until you feel his hardened bulge against your core.

You experimentally roll your hips and smile when he gasps, burying his head in the crook of your neck—his hips chasing yours. “That feel good?”

“Fuck, you know it does.”

You decide to spare him and stop your teasing to start unbuckling his belt, his lips trailing kisses on your neck before biting at your pulse point when you wrap your hand around his cock. He bucks his hips up to meet your slow strokes.

“We can’t do this here.” He whimpers when your thumb smooths over his slit to spread his pre-come and you kiss his ear, suckling his earlobe between your lips.

“Why not?”

He abruptly pulls your hand out of his pants and gently pushes you off of him. He is the perfect picture in front of you and you feel pride at the state you’ve brought him to—his chest heaving, lips swollen from your kissing, all the blood traveling to his cheeks. Well, almost. Your eyes zero in on what must be an obviously uncomfortable erection.

“Because guests are going to sit here and I don’t think they would appreciate this as much as I am right now. Upstairs. Now.”

You somehow make it upstairs in one piece despite the fumbling of limbs and hungry kisses and your back slams against your bedroom door once you’ve made it to your destination. You lift your shirt up and throw it on the floor followed by the unclasping of your bra before that drops to the floor as well. He grabs your thighs lifting you up to carry you to the bed, his hips pressing into yours on the mattress, pressing one last lingering kiss before shifting off the bed to admire you laid out in front of him.

“You’re beautiful like this.” Even with desire crashing through your veins your heart still flutters at the sentiment, his warm hand wraps around your ankle and rubs up and down your calf.

His hand sets your nerves alight and you conjure up the sweetest smile you can muster. “Hm. Are you going to stare all night? Or-” You open the leg he doesn’t have a hold on and you know he can see the wetness through your shorts if the growl that comes out is anything to go by.

“Or are you going to do something about this?”

He grips your ankle tighter pulling you towards the edge of the bed and the visual of him kneeling down is a sight you will never forget. His hands grip the waistband of your shorts and slowly pull them down—his eyes meeting yours in a hungry gaze once he throws them over his shoulder.

“No panties?”

You think he’s going to go straight to where you weep for him but he smiles leaning back up to give you a soft kiss on the lips—then another one and shifts back off the bed to his original position. Even in your collective lust he still manages to make your heart skip a beat at his softness.

He grabs your leg and places it over his shoulder peppering kisses up your inner thighs to where you desperately need him. Your eyelashes flutter when he places open mouthed kisses sucking what will surely be bruises you’ll wear with honor tomorrow.

He spreads your folds to reveal your clit and the first kitten lick has your back arching off the bed, the pleasure shooting through your core when he wraps his lips around your clit and sucks. A raspy moan you didn’t even know you were capable of comes out and you grasp his hair pulling while your other hand grips the sheets under you to try to keep yourself grounded—needing something to hold onto or you’d float away. Not yet, not when it feels this good.

Your head shoots up of its own accord when you feel Zach’s finger circling your entrance, his eyes a question if he can continue. You nod and your head falls back down on the pillow; whimpers falling out of your mouth at the feeling of his finger finally pushing into your entrance before adding a second finger.

You can hear the squelching from how wet you are when he pumps his fingers—in and out slightly picking up speed until he curls his fingers rubbing against that spongy spot of your pussy before pausing his ministrations. You look back down at him in frustration to him sporting a half smirk against your inner thigh.

“That feel good?”

"Shit. You..." You have half a mind to push his head back home for repeating your earlier words back to you, but you wait to be rewarded for your patience.

"You know it d-” Your words are cut off when he pulls your clit back between his lips relentlessly curling his fingers back against your walls. His teeth graze against your clit lightly and the tension in your core snaps, your walls clenching tight around his fingers. You hear a moan from below and he laps up everything you give him until you push his head away when it becomes too much.

You slowly come back down from your high and your fingers curl around the strands of his hair that had fallen over his forehead basking in your post-orgasmic bliss. Zach kisses from your navel back to your lips, pushing his tongue into your open mouth so you can taste yourself.

“We need to take these off.” You chuckle and play with the hem of his shirt until he raises his arms up so you can lift it up, his golden hued abdomen revealing itself to you and you hear the rustling of his pajama pants and boxers being pulled down his legs to join his shirt on the floor.

You cup his cheeks and roll your hips. He gasps when his erect cock slots between your folds and he peppers kisses on your collarbone. You bring his head back to face yours, kissing his cheeks and lightly stroke his cheekbone. “You’re beautiful.”

His eyes become glassy and he attempts to shift his face to the side to break eye contact but your grip remains firm. “Even the parts you don’t like. Beautiful.”

He crashes his lips against yours pouring all his emotions into it—all the unsaid love he can give and just hope you understand. You trace your fingers starting from his brows making your way up, your nails scratching his scalp, and a release of air comes from his nose before going boneless against you—the weight of him a comfort that he’s here with you before he’s leaning up on his forearm to notch himself at your entrance. “Are you sure?”

You dig your nails into his shoulder blades and lock your ankles over his ass to push him inside. “What do you think? Yes.”

“Just checking.” That boyish grin returns to his face and only then does he slowly inch his cock into your entrance and the sheet next to your head creases from Zach gripping it in restraint—fighting the urge to push himself home all at once. God, he’s big. He rolls his hips until he’s to the hilt and you feel his pubic hair meet your pelvis. You experimentally clench around his cock and smile at the curse that he shoots out at the feeling of you.

“Fuck. Don’t. It’ll be over before it starts if you keep that up, sweetheart.” He doesn’t move—savoring the feeling of being inside of you that wasn’t in the form of his imagination.

You mouth at his ear, nipping his earlobe lightly and whisper. “Move.”

He looks down at you with a smirk calling you impatient. “Oh, shut-” You’re interrupted by your own moan when he picks up his thrusts.

“Shit, you’re so wet—so hot around me. Can you hear how your perfect pussy takes me?” He punctuates his words with hard thrusts and you’re not even embarrassed about the squelching sounds in the room your arousal leaking down to the crack of your ass. He grabs the back of your knees and pushes them towards your chest—his thrusts going even deeper than before.

“Fuck, you feel so good—so fucking good.”

You feel the softness of his hair moving down to your chest and you let out a moan when you feel his hot mouth wrap around one of your nipples, his tongue flicking around it making you arch your back in response. He presses an open-mouthed kiss to your sternum before switching to your other breast but not without pinching the nipple that stands at attention for him.

You feel the tightening in your core build higher and higher but not enough to throw you over the edge. Zach must sense it because you watch him grab the back of your knees and lift your legs over his shoulders—the weight of his body leaning against the back of your thighs so he can lick his thumb—a whimper releasing from you at the lewd display of his tongue before he brings it down to your clit rubbing circles. You buck your hips to meet his thrusts as best you can with your position and your pussy clenches around him when your orgasm surges through you making you sob out his name.

“Shit. So tight. So fucking perfect for me.” His hips stutter as he tries to reach his release until you feel hot ropes of come paint the inside of your walls, his hips turning into a slow grind to ride out his high. He presses his face into the crook of your neck and his lips press light kisses on your throat. “That was-”

“Yeah.” You don’t even hide the satisfied smile that is surely taking up your whole face. You almost whine at the emptiness when Zach pulls out and lays next to you, your collective pants filling the room. You felt too sated to move so you close your eyes and listen to your slowing heartbeat.

You feel the sheets moving from under you as Zach shifts his weight. “You got one more in you?”

“Hmm?” It takes you a few seconds to catch onto what he said, your eyes still closed when you hear your nightstand drawer open and rustling, followed by a gentle buzzing sounding in the room. He makes you come two more times after that with his fingers and the vibrator all while whispering praise into your ear of how good you feel and he’ll never get enough of how you feel when you clench around his cock. How he never wants to stop.

***

The sun delicately making itself known through the curtains wakes you up and you feel a weight on your waist. The night before comes back to you when you feel a welcomed ache between your thighs, a reminder of your activities. You trace your fingers along the arm that is wrapped around your middle and you hear a tired sigh from behind followed by a croaky good morning from Zach.

“Good morning.” He grabs your hand so he can play with your fingers and you nearly cry at the intimacy of the moment. How different everything is compared to a few months ago; a relationship that wasn’t making you happy, the loss of your parents, and the lack of purpose you felt in your life.

“Are you happy? We’re almost done.”

You release a deep sigh at the sad interruption of the moment. “Happy to be done with the stress. Not happy because I won’t have a reason to keep you here.” Zach’s fingers clasp your chin and slightly turns your face to kiss you and then kiss your shoulder.

“You don’t need one.” His response muffled by his lips still pressed against your shoulder.

You turn around in his hold and ask the question that has been plaguing you for months. “What if you stayed?”

A furrow forms between his brows and you run your thumb along it to release the tension. “What if you just worked here….with me? As partners. You could keep everything in working order and I can make french toast and we’d do it. Together.”

Zach pauses his strokes on your waist and you inwardly panic that he’s going to reject you.

“Yeah.”

You release the breath you weren’t aware you were holding at his answer. “Yeah?” Your vision starts to blur as tears fall down your cheek and bury your head where his neck meets his shoulder.

“Together. I did do most of the work after all.” You raise your head up to fight him on that statement but you soften at the loving look in his eyes when you meet them.

“Kiss me?” The emotions you’re feeling are so overwhelming that the question just barely breaches the surface, but in the stillness of the room he hears you.

Zach’s fingers clasp under your chin to bring you close to his face—his steady breaths through his nose tickling your upper lip until your lips meet in a soft kiss. You lick at his lips requesting access and he grants it before leaning over you. You feel your soft linen sheets slide off your naked body and you open your legs to allow his hips to slot against yours—his morning erection making itself known.

“Fuck, you’re already wet for me?”

***

You’re at the front desk going through your list of errands for the day when you feel a presence behind you and a kiss on your neck. “All booked?”

You tilt your head up to allow him to continue his ministrations and your cheeks begin to hurt from how wide your smile is. “Almost. Just one more empty room so we’ll see how today goes.” You turn around and give him a chaste kiss on his lips; a contrast to the assault he did on your neck seconds ago.

You grab his shoulder and push him away from the front desk but not before delivering a slap on his ass. “Now get back to work, Wellison.” He salutes you with a grin and turns to leave to deal with whatever needs fixing. You never did get used to that.

You hear the door chime and you turn to face your possible customers with a genuine smile. “Good morning! Welcome to-“

Taglist: @pedros-mustache @sharkbait77

#zach wellison #zach wellison x f!reader #zach wellison x female reader #zach wellison x you #zach wellison x reader #zach wellison fanfic #zach wellison fanfiction #brothers and sisters #zach brothers and sisters #pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfic #pedro pascal fanfiction #javierpinme fanfic #javierpinme fanfiction #contractor!zach wellison #contractor!zach #pedrostories #tw kids #tw pregnancy

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venmomejoy · 4 years

Text

The Lucky Ones- part 2

Thank you guys for reading!! I hope you like this chapter :)

Read it on AO3 here !!!

part one / part three / part four

As soon as Neil made it back into his interim home, he spent hours pouring over the script Kevin had given him. Neil immersed himself in the pages of dialogue and stage directions, allowing himself to leave Neil Josten for a while and slip into the mind of Alex Howell.

The Foxes was a lot different than Evermore. Where Evermore focused on magic and fantasy elements, The Foxes had a modern setting, with no supernatural aspects. Rather than flashy effects and gripping action scenes, The Foxes depicted the messy lives and relationships of the students at Palmetto High School, specifically how they interact and respond in the wake of the murder of a classmate, all the while navigating friendship and romance and identity. Neil will be playing Alex, a transfer student who is chock-full of secrets, and seems to know more than he is letting on. The irony wasn't lost on Neil.

He tried to get some sleep, but only managed to toss and turn for a few hours, restlessness forcing his eyes open. Early morning light was just beginning to filter through the windows when Neil inspected the contents of his duffel bag, ensuring all of his belongings were still inside. He never unpacked the thing, or left it out of his sight long enough for someone to go through it, but he would rather be safe than sorry. He couldn't afford to lose these things; he would be completely alienated from all of his connections and resources if he did, losing contacts for quality fake IDs and coordinates for stashes of cash.

Neil desperately needed to run, craving the blankness of mind that comes with pushing his body to its limits, but unfortunately, abandoned houses weren't equipped with running water, and he thought it was probably bad form to show up for his first day sticky with dried sweat, for as soon as they landed in L.A., they would be heading straight to set so Neil could meet the cast and crew.

If the pale pink light coloring the walls was any indication, it was far too early for Wymack to retrieve him, but Neil was too agitated to lie around any longer. He settled for a walk, needing some sort of outlet for the nervousness slowly eating through his sanity. Motion had always been Neil's most conformable state; running was what he was used to, what kept him safe. There was comfort in it- in movement, he was always in a position to escape. Sitting still left him vulnerable. It was in stillness that he could be cornered.

Swinging his duffel bag over his shoulder, Neil turned and took one last look at the house. It was dingy, stains littering the ceiling and carpet, paint peeling off in large chunks, but Neil had kept it pretty clean. No one would suspect he had been squatting there for the past three and a half months. Neil took off without a backwards glance.

With hours to kill, Neil practically covered the entirety of the town as he walked. Residential streets eventually gave way to businesses- restaurants, doctors offices', the lone grocery store. Neil let his gaze dart around, checking for anyone hidden in the shadows, any strange cars passing him on the road. He knew this was a bad idea. Joining one of the most prominent shows on television was the exact opposite of what Neil needed to be doing if he wanted to stay alive. He needed to live in obscurity, and instead, he was pushing himself into the brightest spotlight he could find. Not to mention the fact that his personal life would be put on blast; the media loved to dredge up celebrities' private information. He wasn't sure his story would hold up under that kind of scrutiny. But he needed something, something to ground him, to sate this hunger for more than just survival.

Soon enough, the town started waking up. The streets began filling as people drove to work or dropped their kids off at school. There was a good amount of people walking as well, the town so small that it was easy enough to walk most everywhere you needed to go. Several people smiled as they passed Neil, some even waving in greeting; Neil instinctively dropped his head, letting his dark brown curls shield his face. Neil took the growing activity in town as indication that he should probably head towards the theater to meet Wymack.

Within ten minutes Neil found himself at the front of the theater. The building was deserted- no one had business at the theater at eight a.m. on a Monday morning. Neil sat on the concrete steps leading to the building, his knee bouncing as he waited for the ride that would take him away from this life, away from all he'd ever known.

The theater sat directly across from the high school. From where he was sitting, Neil could see the students lounging outside the building, chatting with their friends, waiting until the last possible minute to run into class. He had chosen to make Neil Josten eighteen when he moved here, even though he would not actually turn eighteen for five more months, so he had never been inside the school. Neil had been disconsolate when he arrived here; in the midst of altering his entire lifestyle so it would function without his mother, he didn't have it in him to bother with school. He also didn't want to worry about forging parental consent, which worked out well for Wymack's offer- being eighteen allowed him to sign the contract and work on set without required notification and consent of a guardian.

A honk startled Neil from his thoughts, his hands flying to his bag as his muscles tensed to run, but he relaxed at the sight of Wymack behind the wheel. Kevin was staring unabashedly at Neil as he stalks over to the black suburban. He slid into the backseat next to Andrew, and the smile he shot Neil was nothing short of venomous. Neil kept his face blank as he averted his eyes.

It was Kevin who spoke first. "Where is your stuff?"

"This is it." Neil tightened his grip on his bag as Kevin eyed it.

"Do you want to put it in the trunk?" Wymack asked. "We have a bit of a drive to the airport."

"I'm fine with it here."He could tell he had piqued Andrew's interest, could feel his eyes roving over his bag with renewed interest, but refused to acknowledge him. He could not give Andrew any indication of what this bag held, any reason to be curious about his belongings.

"Suit yourself," Wymack said, pulling the car onto the road. After moments of silence, he spoke up again. "So, Neil, you're familiar with The Foxes?"

"Sort of. I've seen a couple episodes." Without television or internet access, it was hard to find opportunities to watch.

"Wow, too good to act with us, and too good to even watch the show? You've wounded my pride, Neil," Andrew drawled from beside him.

Neil's jaw clenched, willing himself to maintain his docile persona. He didn't need to draw any unnecessary attention to himself, and certainly didn't need any enemies as dangerous as Andrew Minyard, if the stories about him were to be believed. "It's not that, we just didn't have internet access at my house."

"Your parents spend all that time working and they still can't afford internet?" Neil just looked at the blond, unable to come up with a response.

"Andrew," Wymack warned.

"We're all trying to figure out what the deal with your parents is. Well, I am, at least. My money's on them beating you, but Kevin and Wymack aren't the betting sort, so I'll have to take my wager elsewhere." Neil snapped his head up, meeting Andrew's taunting gaze. Neil knows he's just trying to provoke him, but it still unnerves him how close Andrew was to the truth after knowing Neil for an hour, if even.

"Jesus, Andrew," Wymack groans. "Cut the shit or I'll sign you up for the next marathon."

"I'm quaking in my boots." Andrew busts out in a fit of laughter that no one else joins.

Entirely ignoring Andrew's comments, Kevin steers the conversation back towards the show. "You'll need to watch the first two seasons before we can even think about beginning production." He twists in his seat to look at Neil. "Everything builds on itself in television; the plot of this season will be in direct correlation to the plot of the previous ones. It's important that you understand everything that has already happened, how the other characters behave and interact, so you can properly play your role. A lot of characters' backstories and personalities have already been explored in the earlier seasons, and everything that occurs in season three will be written with the expectation that the audience has seen the previous episodes and already knows these facts; we cannot repeat things for you. So these two weeks, while you familiarize yourself with the cast and the inner workings of screen acting, you will watch the show. Then we can get started on the actual acting.”

Neil knew all of this, of course, and was vaguely annoyed that Kevin was speaking to him like he was stupid, but he had told them he had no experience with screen acting, and an amateur would be hanging onto his every word. Unable to stoop that low, Neil settled on schooling his features into neutrality and offering a nod of understanding. But there was still another issue:

"How am I going to watch it?" Without a phone or a computer, there was no way for him to stream anything.

"You'll be staying with us in the cast house, and we have TVs there that you can use," Kevin said, either unaware of or ignoring Neil's confused stare.

Before he could ask Kevin about the cast house, Andrew spoke up. "Haven't you heard, Neil? We all live together during filming. One big, happy family." Laughter bubbles out of Andrew's chest.

This posed new complications for Neil. On one hand, he wouldn't have to waste as much money on housing and the like. He had been nervous about blowing so much of his resources on a house, since he imagined he wouldn't be able to get away with squatting on abandoned property with so many people watching him. He would probably still have to pay a portion of the rent and utilities, but it would be far less than he was expecting, and that lifted a weight off of his shoulders. On the other, it would make it a lot harder for Neil to keep things confidential. Not only would he be at risk for people looking through his things, if he had to run he would have a whole crowd of people to sneak past. He would have to keep his guard up all the time; one slip-up could cost him his life, and he would no longer have a space to drop his act.

The conversation dwindled after that, and the airport appeared sooner than Neil had anticipated. After checking their bags and going through security, the four of them walked to their gate and boarded the plane almost immediately. Neil was surprised to be seated first class; it made sense, he supposed, since he was flying with an acclaimed director and two of the most famous actors in Hollywood, but Neil had only ever flown in the economy class, he and his mother always opting for the cheapest option possible. The plush seats were roomier than the firm, cramped ones Neil had known.

He was sat with Wymack, Kevin and Andrew sitting together across the aisle. From what he'd heard in the news, Andrew and Kevin were practically inseparable, one hardly ever being seen without the other. If they were as close as the media seems to think, Neil understood why they choose to sit together, but Neil couldn't help a little stab of resentment when he realized they had left him with Wymack. He didn't have anything against the man, but he had a deep-seated fear of any man that was close to his father's age, and Wymack fit the description. Neil tensed as soon as Wymack fell into the seat next to him, his instincts revolting at the idea of sitting in close quarters with him. Neil clasped his hands tightly in his lap, willing his muscles to relax. After the plane plateaued in the air, Neil pulled out his script and begins analyzing the lines, chunks beginning to stick in his memory.

"It's important to read the entire script, so you know what is happening in the show as a whole, but after getting a general understanding of the episode's plot you should focus on your scenes. I know in theatre you have months of rehearsals to nail your lines, but screen acting is far more condensed. You have a couple of weeks now, but typically actors get the script only days before they begin filming. No need wasting brain space on scenes you are not even in."

Neil suppressed an eye roll at Wymack's unsolicited advice. His director filled the first half of the flight preparing Neil for what he would face when he arrived in L.A., explaining what the set would look like and how a typical day of filming would go. It had been many years since Neil had been on a set, and he had been a child at that, so he gladly absorbed all the information Wymack gave him. He told him a little bit about the main cast, and he told him that he and the rest of the cast will have biweekly meetings with their acting coach, Abby, courtesy of Kevin. Apparently, Kevin thought their biggest issue was that they acted as individuals, not as a team. In a scene, the actors need to draw from each other's energies and emotions to make the connection authentic, and Kevin's been working on making the cast more in sync. He and Wymack eventually settled into silence, Neil reading his script and Wymack typing away on his laptop.

The flight was pretty short, only two hours of airtime before they were landing in LAX. The drive to the studio was quiet, the occasional comment fading into silence. Neil was staring out the window, taking in the scenery of his new home. It was dirtier than he expected, but still nice. He assumed the beautiful scenery always seen in movies was towards the beaches, not in the middle of urban life, so he cut the city some slack. The sheer amount of people he saw passing by had him clutching his duffel bag tighter. It was too easy to get lost in a city this big, to disappear and have no one notice you're gone until it's too late. Neil had been looking over his shoulder his whole life, but that isn't always enough when people are coming from all sides.

They drove through security at the studio, providing authorization before parking in Wymack's designated spot. As Neil swung out of the car, he spotted a brown-skinned boy sprinting towards him, a grin breaking out on his face. If the curls didn't give the man's identity away, his personality did: Nicky Hemmick was bubbly beyond belief, his excitement making Neil vaguely uncomfortable. Walking at a much slower pace behind Nicky was a carbon copy of Andrew- his twin, Aaron.

"You must be Neil," Nicky panted, sticking his hand out for Neil to shake when he got close enough. "How was your trip? I hope Kevin and Andrew didn't soil your opinion of us; I swear, the rest of us have manners."

Andrew feigned hurt. "Here I was, expecting a touching reunion, and this is what I'm met with? Slander, and from my own cousin!"

"It was fine," Neil said.

"That's good to hear. I'm Nicky, by the way. I play Henry." Nicky's character had always been a fan favorite; many people found themselves relating to the sweet gay kid and the adversity he faced as he came out.

Neil pulls up a quick smile. "It's nice to meet you."

Aaron didn't so much as acknowledge Neil when he looked over at him. Wymack's gruff voice spoke up. "Is everyone else inside?"

Nicky nodded. "Anxiously awaiting our newest member," he said, sending a wink Neil's way.

With that, Kevin strode forward and Neil followed him into the building, Wymack, Nicky, and the twins flanking him. Kevin was pointing things out as they walked- where the bathrooms were, where the craft service was located- and eventually led him into the lounge, where the rest of the cast was sitting. Almost all of them stood as Neil entered, a tall boy with spiky black hair approaching him first.

“Matt Boyd," he said, extending his hand. "Wymack showed us some videos of you performing, you seem like you have real talent. We're excited to work with you."

"Speak for yourself," Aaron muttered from behind him.

"Thank you," Neil responded to Matt. The man only clapped him on the shoulder, not noticing the way Neil stiffened under the contact.

Matt pointed to the short-haired girl standing behind him, a fierce smile on her face. "This is Dan, our fearless leader." Dan Wilds played Kayla, the shows main protagonist.

"And that is Renee," he said sweeping his hand to a girl with a kind face and rainbow-tipped hair, before moving onto a couple, the girl sitting on the boy's lap, his hands running idly over her thighs. "And the PDA show stars Allison and Seth. Those two are always all over each other. Well, unless their fighting. Then you won't see them speaking unless it's to hurl insults at each other."

"We can hear you, dick," Seth seethes.

Dan steps forward, halting the brewing fight before it could take off. "It's really good to meet you, Neil. Kevin said you have already started looking at the script?"

"Yeah, I studied it last night, and on the flight."

"Perfect, we want you to be as prepared as possible for your first time on set. We have a training session with Abby tomorrow, so that will give us an opportunity to feel out where you are in your skills and how you naturally work with all of us. We can go from there." Neil simply nodded.

"The table read for the episode one will be in two weeks," Wymack says. "In that time, Neil, you need to be caught up on the show and familiar with the set. These guys will all help you if you have any questions. Now, I've got paperwork to do, so you maggots do something useful for once and show Neil around." With that, he strode out of the room.

Neil stood their awkwardly for a moment, unsure what to say, but Dan quickly came to his rescue. "Let's go, Neil. We can take you by your trailer so you can drop your stuff off, and then we'll show you the inner workings of a television set."

Neil followed Dan, with Matt, Allison, Seth, and Renee coming as well, but turned back to look at the group he was leaving behind. Kevin, Nicky, and Aaron were paying him no mind, not even noticing his gaze, but he found Andrew's eyes already on his. Andrew's intense gaze never wavered as a slow smile spread across his face. When Neil didn't break his stare, Andrew cocked his head to the side, flicking his fingers in a mocking goodbye.

Neil had the feeling he would be seeing a lot more of Andrew. And he doubted it would be friendly.

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etherealwaifgoddess · 4 years

Text

More Time - Chpt.3

Summary: Steve & Bucky learn to navigate Steve’s new normal. Master list is HERE.

Warnings/ Content: Just some fluff this chapter.

Word Count: 1.4k

Author’s Note: Hello lovelies! Thank you all for the great reactions to the last chapter both here and over on AO3. Your comments give me life ya’ll, seriously. Also, posting schedule will definitely be daily now because I’ve discovered the joy that is saving drafts ahead of time. Woo! XOXO - Ash

Chapter Three

They say it takes losing something to realize how much you appreciate it. Steve thought that particular phrase was entirely too apt in his experience.

Steve had struggled in 1942 to adapt to his body post- Project Rebirth, and now being thrown back into his smaller body was just as big of an adjustment for him. He’d lived out two lifetimes with only 25 years in his smaller form at the very beginning; making it more foreign than familiar at that point. Steve hadn’t forgotten the myriad of ailments that plagued his early years, but he hadn’t had to deal with them in so long that the memories of actually having to live with them had faded.

Bruce had let Bucky take Steve home the day after the failed procedure with a promise to come back for more testing the following day. The subsequent weeks were spent resting at home and round after round of testing, as well as trying to help alleviate or treat Steve’s various ailments. Things weren’t as bad as they had been back when Steve had lived in this body before, but it was still pretty inconvenient. There were glasses to help correct his vision, a discreet hearing aid for his bad ear, and medications for his high blood pressure, asthma, and arthritis. Steve’s days were ruled by doctor’s appointments and the persistent buzz of his smartwatch reminding him to take one of his many medications. He was reluctant to throw therapy sessions into the mix but at Sam and Bucky’s pushing he started seeing a therapist regularly too.

Bucky decided to take an indefinite leave of absence from his work with the Avengers and the newly re-formed SHIELD, wanting to help Steve readjust to life in his smaller form. He hadn’t been taking many missions before that either, trying to soak up as much time with Steve as he could since he’d come back aged. Bucky missed the fulfillment that came from a mission accomplished but that feeling was eclipsed by his love for Steve. He knew that things wouldn’t be as bad as they were growing up, they had money and modern medicine now, but he also knew Steve and how difficult this would be on him. Sam assured them both that things were going well at work and they didn’t need to worry about a thing.

Bucky looked forward to Sam’s visits, as infrequent as they were. Steve had been so nervous the first time Sam had seen him after. He knew Sam was his friend regardless of what he looked like but it was still embarrassing to be a full head shorter and over a hundred pounds lighter than his friend when they had been of similar size before. “Who can run laps around who now?” Sam joked before hugging Steve tightly, thankful his friend was okay after everything. Until Steve took advantage of his bony elbows and their proximity to Sam’s ribs, and Sam learned that Steve’s temper hadn’t diminished along with the rest of him.

Their days fell into an easy rhythm and both men found ways to pass the time so that they didn’t go stir crazy while they adjusted to Steve’s new normal. Steve returned to his art with a passion so fierce it surprised Bucky. He’d woken up one morning to find papers littered all around the spare bedroom, sketches of people and places from their past and some from more recent years as well. Steve was sitting on the hardwood floor in the midst of the mess, hunched over sketching a Brooklyn skyline when Bucky had interrupted him. They’d gone out later that day and bought him a proper desk and easel as well as all the art supplies he’d ever wanted. The spare bedroom was easily converted into a studio for Steve and it was nice to finally make good use of the extra living space. Steve was overwhelmed with the possibilities open to his art when he wasn’t limited to what little supplies they could afford back in the ‘30s. He had charcoal pencils, water colors, oil paints, and color pencils too. They got him canvases in all sizes and a myriad of sketch books. Steve poured all of his bottled up emotions into his art and his therapist was impressed with his progress since he’d started drawing and painting again.

Bucky loved watching Steve flourish after several tense weeks of an adjustment period. He had meant it when he’d told Steve he loved him no matter what happened, even though this outcome was not even on the horizon of possibility at the time. Having Steve back in the body he’d originally fallen in love with him in was both wonderful and conflicting for Bucky. Guilt ate at him in the quiet moments before sleep each night, something his therapist was working with him on consistently. He loved the way Steve fit under his shoulder again, the beauty of his pale skin and fine bones, but it felt like a betrayal of Steve to appreciate the very thing that caused Steve so much pain. So he devoted himself to making Steve’s life easier any way he could. Bucky would keep his joy at having a lifetime with Steve silently restrained and spend the time they now had making each moment count.

Steve was not stupid and he caught the little looks Bucky gave when he thought Steve wasn’t looking. He couldn’t quite figure out what to make of the elated and sometimes reverent glances but after enough of them he pieced together that Bucky was happy with him and trying to shield him from it. It took a little bit longer to figure out why.

It was almost two months since Steve had woken up on Bruce’s lab table when the first truly cool week of autumn hit. Steve had settled down with his laptop to order some warmer clothes online while Bucky sat on the opposite side of their sofa watching yet another episode of “Wonders of the Solar System” on the Science Channel. Steve would occasionally show Bucky a shirt or pair of pants to ask for his opinion since, as Nat used to remind him often, he had no sense of style. Bucky would weigh in on Steve’s current selection and then return to his show, but Steve noticed the small grin on Bucky’s face when he thought Steve had looked away. After a few times Steve set aside the laptop, ready to finally have the conversation he’d been preparing in his head for over a week.

“It’s okay that you’re happy.” Steve told him bluntly, “You know that, right?”

Bucky paused the show and turned so that he was facing Steve, unsure where the conversation was going. “What do you mean?” He asked hesitantly.

“I see the little glances you shoot when you think I’m not looking. You’re allowed to be happy I’m back in this body again.”

Bucky’s cheeks burned brightly, “I’m sorry, Stevie. I know how hard this is on you and I’m so damn selfish for being this happy. I’m so sorry.”

Steve crawled on his knees across the middle sofa seat and settled himself down on Bucky’s lap. He let himself be wrapped up in Bucky’s strong arms, the way they used to sit in the dead of winter when they couldn’t afford to turn on the heat. The familiarity was comforting to them both. “It’s okay.” He told Bucky, “You’re allowed to be happy about this. Sure it kinda sucks to deal with health issues again, but it’s miles better than it was back in the day. And I’m not gonna lie and say I don’t miss the super soldier body but it gives me a lifetime with you that I missed out on the last two times around. I love you, Buck, and I want you to be happy.”

Bucky planted a soft kiss on the top of Steve’s head, inhaling deeply the clean scent of shampoo and the crisp undercurrent that was undeniably Steve. “I love you. I want you to be happy too though.”

“I am, you doofus. Every single day I get to wake up next to you I am the happiest I’ve ever been. We’re so lucky to be alive and together right now, how could I not be.”

“You’re the doofus.” Bucky chuckled and hugged Steve tighter.

Steve stayed quiet, satisfied to let the conversation go for now at least. He could finish shopping later, a little quiet time with his best guy would always come first.

Tag list lovelies: @godofplumsandthunder @remilupin22 @supraveng @hiddles-rose

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summahsunlight · 4 years

Text

We Belong to the Stars, CH.5

Word Count: 1669

Pairing: Poe/Evelyn (OC)

A/N: Here is the next chapter :) Use the links below to get caught up if you haven’t already!

Chapter One / Chapter Two / Chapter Three / Chapter Four / AO3

Leia moved towards the center console and hit a few keys. The image of a man appeared; it glowed, filling the room with a blue tint, flickering in and out every few seconds. She folded her arms over her chest. "Do you two know who this is?"

Poe let out a slow breath. "Senator Ro-Kiintor."

Kaleb glanced, sideways at his aunt. "You don't want us to kidnap a senator, do you Aunt Leia?"

"No, nothing that drastic," Leia responded, with a slight smile at her nephew. She pressed another button and a ship appeared. "This is the Hevurion Grace, the senator's personal yacht. It has been seen in First Order space, several times in the last couple of years. We believe that Senator Ro-Kiintor is colluding with the First Order, perhaps General Hux or Snoke himself. We just haven't been able to prove it. Poe, what do you know about the Pinnacle-class yachts?"

"Manfactured by Vekker Corp," Poe replied, crossing his arms over his chest. "I've seen them a couple of times. Only the very wealthy can afford them, usually everything is handmade, customized to the owner's wishes. More luxury than efficacy and they might as well as have a sign hanging on the hull with an invitation for pirates that screams, money in here!."

Leia's eyes sparkled, came even more alive. "Could you fly one, Commander?"

Poe shifted on his feet. He often told people he could fly anything. "Sure. It's designed to be flown by a single pilot."

"Good. I want you to steal it," Leia responded.

"What?" Kaleb sputtered. "You just said you didn't want us to do anything drastic!"

"No, I said I didn't want you to do something as drastic as kidnapping a Republic senator," Leia corrected him.

Kaleb looked incredulously at his aunt. "Sorry, I got my levels of drastic measures mixed up I guess. I had stealing a yacht at the top of the list along with kidnapping a senator."

Leia now gave him a mock glare. "You hung around your uncle too much as a child; his sarcasm has worn off on you."

Poe laughed, silently. Kaleb's remark did sound like something Han Solo would have said. Han Solo would help us steal the yacht, Poe thought as he glanced at the holo image of the Hevurion Grace still displayed before them. "How do you propose we do this? We can't go charging at this ship with Resistance issued X-wings."

"You're right," Leia said with a sigh. She shut the display down. "Despite the fact that Ro-Kiintor is a traitor, until we can prove it, he is still a senator in the Republic and we have to honor that."

"What you're saying is, if we agree to do this, we're on our own," Poe supplied, feeling a weight settling on his shoulders.

Leia nodded. "I need that ship, Poe; I need those navigational logs. Ematt has tried to put several agents on board the ship, but the records are purged before we can obtain any information. We need to disable the ship before the senator can do that, which is why I need someone to steal it. But I want both of you to know that this is a voluntary mission, anyone else you take with you has to realize if you run into trouble, we cannot help you."

Poe took in a deep breath, thinking over her words. If what she was saying was true, that Senator Ro-Kiintor was involved with the First Order, was betraying the Republic, than he was partially responsible for Lieutenant Muran's death. His fists clenched. "It's a tight window to take the ship, and it will have to be done in space, before the senator can land."

"I'm aware of that. I know how difficult this mission is going to be, which is why I'm giving you the option of saying no, Commander."

"If I'm going to do this, General, I'm going to need a few things."

Kaleb ran a hand over his face. Kriff, what are we getting ourselves into. He felt Poe's hand on his shoulder and when he turned to look at his friend, there was a warm smile on Poe's face, as if to tell him, it's gonna be fine.

Poe knew that convincing Karé and Iolo to join them on this crazy mission was not going to be hard. After all, this is why they had come to the Resistance, to do something about the amassing threat of the First Order. Kaleb sticking by his side during all this did surprise him though, if they were caught...

"We're not getting caught," Kaleb said, leaning back against the bulkhead. "Eight minutes is plenty of time to pull this off."

"If we do... the Senate is already distrustful of your family," Poe pointed out to him.

Kaleb shrugged his shoulders. He had always known where he came from; it had never been a secret to him that his grandfather had fallen to the dark side and become Darth Vader. It had also never been a secret that his other grandfather was an Imperial war lord. Despite all that, his parents had turned into decent people. "At this point, I don't give a damn about my reputation in the Senate."

Iolo got up from his spot at Poe's small table, poured himself another drink, and went to pat Kaleb on the shoulder. "Makes two of us," he said with a wide grin. "I'm glad you're coming along; we could use all the good pilots we can get on this crazy stunt."

He returned Iolo's smile. Kaleb had pulling off crazy stunts in his blood. His father and uncle had dodged capture on the Death Star, tricked Jabba the Hutt... "If we really want to be successful, we'd call Evie. She's the better pilot."

Poe's eyes grew dark. It had already been suggested once, by Kaleb, that Evelyn go instead of him. Poe couldn't bring himself to make that call. It would be the worst way to see each other again and honestly, the thought of her being arrested made him sick to his stomach.

Karé sensed his unease around the subject and changed it. "Evelyn might be the better pilot, but we can do this Kaleb. Just think of the story we'll have to tell her once we get that damn yacht back to D'Qar."

"She's going to say this was too reckless," Kaleb drawled, with a fond smile.

"Evie was always the more rational one," Poe murmured.

"Growing up with you two, she had to be," Iolo joked.

"That's true," Poe said with a sad smile.

"When we get back from this crazy mission, you need to send her a message," Karé stated, standing up and stretching her long legs.

Poe shook his head. He wasn't sure that was going to do any good.

Karé looked at him incredulously. "You want a chance with her or not? Send her a damn message, Commander."

Iolo stood with her and nodded in agreement. "She's right, Poe. You've been pining away for the girl for the last five years. I'd send her a message, Commander."

"Are you two giving me orders now?"

"If I were you," Kaleb drawled, as the other two pilots left Poe's quarters, "I'd listen to them. Are you afraid that she won't want to talk to you?"

He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. Yes, Poe was afraid that she wouldn't want to speak to him, that she wouldn't want anything to do with him. Did she still love him? Only one way to find out... you need to talk to her. Poe heard Kaleb tell him that he'd programed BB-8 with Evelyn's comm code, and then the pilot was left alone in his quarters. BB-8 looked up at him, expectantly. Poe sighed and nodded. "Yeah... yeah... let's record a message for her."

BB-8 rolled in front of him, beeping happily as if to encourage Poe. The pilot chuckled; before everything had fallen apart, Poe could have sworn that BB-8 loved Evelyn more than he did. In fact, he was surprised the little droid had not contacted Evelyn himself.

Poe took a deep breath, staring at his droid. He was usually good with words, but right now, when he was faced with having to speak to Evelyn... he just didn't know what to say. Too much, there's too much I have to say, he thought before beginning. "Hi, Evie," he said, softly, voice thick with emotion. "This message is probably weeks... no years...overdue. I hated myself for how I left things, truth was, I wanted to turn around the moment I walked away. I was a coward. I'm not asking for your forgiveness, Evelyn. I've been reassigned to D'Qar. I'm hoping we can talk. There are things that I just... that have to be said in person. Just know how sorry I am... I've missed you...I've missed you so much."

Another deep breath and Poe reached forward to stop the recording. BB-8 beeped happily and immediately sent the message. Shakily, Poe reached out and touched the little droid's head, "Thanks, buddy."

BB-8 watched his master for a moment, rocking back and forth, slightly. He inquired about Poe's mood; shouldn't Poe be happy that he'd sent that message? After all, Poe had spent the last five years debating if he should reach out to her.

Smiling, wistfully, Poe shook his head. "It's complicated, BeeBee. No one can know the Resistance exists, yet everyone knows it exists. Plus, I hurt her, badly. Sending her a message might not be...well received."

The droid was rightfully confused by his statement. Human interactions and emotions were something that BB-8 was still trying to figure out. Poe gently scratched his side and told him to shut down for the evening. In the morning, Poe was going on a mission without him, and he hated being left behind. "Don't worry," Poe assured him as he settled in for the night, "I'll come back; I always do."

#star wars #star wars fanfiction #poe dameron fanfiction #poe dameron #kaleb skywalker (oc)#leia organa #kare kun #iolo arana #bb-8 #poe x oc #we belong to the stars

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winxwannabe · 6 years

Text

Second Star

Word Count: 2952 Pairing: Bloom/Jim Rating: T Saying Jim was here to keep an eye on Annabelle was safe; it was something that made sense. Him being here for her was not. Also available on FFN and Ao3 (will be added in the next few hours)

*rolls up to the party 2 hours late with half a bag of chips and cold queso* HEY KIDS HAPPY 500 FOLLOWERS HERE’S THAT FIC I PROMISED

It was Tecna that asked Bloom to check the roof of the coffee shop on Alton. Her scanners had picked up a figure an hour or so after closing, and upon reexamination found they were still there.

“It’s probably just some employee, but make sure,” her voice had echoed through the wrist communicator. “We’ve had enough excitement for the near future.”

Bloom had to laugh at that. “No kidding. I’ll keep you updated.”

It had seemed simple enough.

She landed silent as a mouse on the rooftop, expecting to face an adversary if necessary. At least expecting to give someone a stern talking to for being out so late at night in such a strange place.

What she didn’t expect was the slouched figure, hair tied back in a small ponytail, wearing a jacket that - though she hadn’t really thought about because there were more pressing matters at the time - she secretly hated. A hook weapon of some kind was on the ground next to him, beside that what looked like a spyglass.

She obviously hadn’t been silent enough. The figure turned its head just enough to see her, and then back across the street without acknowledgement.

Bloom stepped forward, doing her best her sound stern. “Were you waiting for me up here or something?”

“I’m here to ask for accompaniment to the frigid Swiss Alps.”

“Jim.”

He rolled his eyes, jutting his chin towards the building across the street. “Keeping an eye out. Don’t get your wings in a twist.”

Curious, Bloom stepped closer to the ledge. The building across the street was full of apartments, some with their lights still on and others with curtains drawn. One in particular was illuminated among dark windows, and Bloom focused in on it. Inside at a desk was a brunette girl scribbling away at something unable to be seen at such a distance. But it wasn’t so far away that Bloom didn’t recognize her.

“Annabelle?”

“The Queen’s servants haven’t been around much, but there’s no harm in taking precaution. Not when it comes to her.” The last sentence was muttered under his breath. “We wouldn’t want her gaining the upper hand behind our backs again.”

“True enough.” Bloom glanced over at Jim, taking in his features. He looked tired. “What about The Queen herself? Has anyone seen her?”

He gave something between a snort and a laugh. “No. Not since our final stance of sorts.”

She shivered at the memory; being enclosed in a dark magic bubble, her magic siphoned off until all she felt was cold and fatigue. Her friends seemingly miles below her, forced to fight against her own powers.

And that being the case until a certain someone cut her free.

“Penny for ‘em,” Jim’s voice brought her out of the memory and back to the roof. Somewhere below tires screeched and someone laid on their horn for several seconds.

Bloom sighed, finally taking a seat next to him on the ledge. “Just...Annabelle, Sophie, everyone - they didn’t deserve to be brought into this mess. We were searching for the talents to protect them, but we ended up bringing trouble with us.”

Jim nodded slightly. “But it’s also worth considering how much more trouble they would’ve been in without your help.”

“Hmm,” she acknowledged, “but what came first: us, or the trouble?”

“You’re asking the wrong person. My knowledge is limited to the World of Dreams and the stars.”

Bloom blinked at him. “Stars?”

“Stars,” Jim agreed, his gaze going up to the night sky. It was unusually clear; even the smog that usually hung around Gardenia seemed to have faded away. “I was a ship captain before all this nonsense with the queen started. And no captain would last a fortnight at sea without knowing how to navigate the stars.”

He trailed off, and raised an eyebrow when Bloom caught his gaze. “You look surprised.”

“I guess I am a little.” Bloom shifted so she was laying down on the roof, looking up at the sky, her legs still leaning over the edge of the building. “Not about the captain thing; that’s...somehow not surprising.”

Bloom heard Jim laugh, and Bloom waited for it to die down before continuing. “But...the World of Dreams is a place with magic and evil shaman and dark queens fighting for control in dense forests. It’s the complete opposite of life on Earth and yet...we’re under the same sky. The same stars. Doesn’t that just seem strange to you?”

There was rustling next to Bloom that told her Jim had leaned back on the roof as well. She felt his arm touch hers, and even though they both had sleeves, a shiver went down her back. “We may be different worlds,” Jim said, his voice much quieter than it had been before, “but that doesn’t change that we’re all under the same sky. The World of Dreams is practically a straight line from Earth; we see the same things you do, just reversed.

“And from what I’ve gathered during my time here...corrupt rulers, strangers in tune with the supernatural - we have more in common than you think.”

“Maybe you’re right.”

“...That may be the first time you’ve ever said that to me.”

She laughed at that. “Don’t get used to it.”

They trailed off, and for a while the only sound around them was their own breathing and the city below. There was something tranquil about it, which proved to be a striking distinction from what their lives had been a few short days ago; climbing frigid mountains, battling monsters, and facing off against the forces of evil in a fight for the fate of both their worlds.

“Hey Jim?”

“Hmm?”

“How do you keep the stars straight to navigate a ship? Don’t you get them mixed up?”

There was a pause. “If you were to focus on them individually, I suppose. But you don’t; you focus on the constellations.”

She chuckled at that. “I could never get those right when I was little. Trying to see imaginary shapes between bright and less bright balls of light. My Dad tried to teach me once, but I was labelled a lost cause.”

There was a chuckle. “Perhaps it’s time for a re-introductory lesson, then.”

Much to Bloom’s shock, she felt his hand slip around her wrist and pull her arm up. She tensed at first, but then realized he was pointing her hand towards a series of stars in the left of her vision. “Now, see this group of stars here?” He guided her hand in a circle around a group of twinkling lights.

“Yeah, but there are dozens in there!”

“Don’t focus on the ones further back; if you have to strain your eyes to see them, they don’t count. I’m talking about the group at the forefront. How many do you see?”

She paused for a minute. “I see...eight?”

“Exactly. Now,” he maneuvered her hand again to trace between the brightest ones, “see how if you wanted, you could draw a triangle with them? That one there at the top, those two at the bottom…”

“Well...yeah. Yeah, I see it.”

“Then you’ve seen a constellation.”

Bloom laughed and turned her head to look at him. “That’s it?”

“That’s it,” he agreed, not moving his gaze from the sky. For some reason it gave Bloom the smallest twinge of sadness. “Honestly, it’s easier with this.”

Jim let go of her wrist, and reached over for the spyglass that was lying next to him. He passed it over to Bloom. “Look through there. It’s much easier to see them.”

She obliged, and pointed it in the direction he’d guided her hand. “So what’s this one called?”

“Andromeda.”

“Why Andromeda?”

“Truly interested?”

Bloom smirked, and handed the spyglass back. “You know I wouldn’t ask if I wasn’t.”

He smiled at that; a genuine smile that Bloom so rarely saw on his face. “All right...back in the days of the gods, Andromeda’s mother proclaimed herself to be the most beautiful woman in the world. Others demanded she take it back, and when she refused it was decided Andromeda would be sacrificed to pay for her insolence.

Andromeda's mother took her to the sea and chained her to a rock to be sacrificed to a sea monster. But as it approached, the hero Perseus appeared. He was so enamored with her beauty he killed the sea monster, and took Andromeda home to rule as his queen. And, as a result, their subjects dedicated the stars in her honor.”

“Wow. And I thought my family had issues.”

Jim laughed. “Her mother’s there too.” Again, Jim took Bloom’s hand and circled another cluster of stars. “Cassiopeia, imprisoned by Zeus in the stars.”

“Deservedly, I guess.”

“Perhaps. I’m sure someone would disagree.”

Bloom lowered her arm again, and noticed there were several beats before Jim took his hand away. She looked over again, but he still didn’t meet her gaze.

“So which star is the World of Dreams?”

Jim finally looked over at her, surprised. “What?”

“I mean, you can see other worlds from here.” Bloom pointed to a small star in the sky with a purplish hue. “See that one? Tecna’s from there. It’s called Zenith.”

Jim didn’t respond, but raised his eyebrows like he was impressed. “Are there other planets you know?”

“Uh-uh, I asked you first.”

He gave her a sly grin and propped his head up on his hand so he was looking down at Bloom. “You’ve been listening to me drone on about Andromeda and Cassiopeia. Don’t I get to hear your lovely voice go on about nothing for a while?”

Bloom swallowed. Was it just her imagination, or had his tone gone lower? “How about this,” said said, and mirrored his pose so they were again eye level. “You tell me which star is the World of Dreams, and then I’ll name off every single planet I currently know.”

His facial expression didn’t change, but after a moment Bloom felt a hand go around her waist. It dragged her close, and Bloom had to grab onto his jacket to keep herself up. She looked at his face, and there was something dancing behind his dark eyes.

“You, love,” Jim said quietly, “have to be one of the most stubborn girls I’ve ever met.”

She shivered again. “Jim...did you really come here to check on Annabelle?”

He blinked at her. “What do you mean?”

“I mean...that’s why you’re here right? The only reason?”

He said nothing.

Bloom’s eyes went wide, because a lack of admission was an admission in and of itself. Jim saying he was here to keep an eye on Annabelle was safe; it was something that made sense, that could be explained. Him being here for any other reason -

Him being there for her -

She met his gaze again, and after a moment sighed. “Jim, we can’t -”

He pressed a finger to her lips - one from his non-gloved hand. The skin was weathered, but warmer than she expected. “Give me one reason why.”

Bloom stared at him, at the desire lurking in his eyes, at the way the wind was blowing his bangs across his forehead, at his lips…

She felt her resolve flow out of her like a river, and the only think Bloom could think to say was: “Because both our legs are dangling off the side of a building, and with our luck one of us will fall five-stories to the ground.”

That earned her a genuine laugh, and Jim slid himself along the roof until his feet made contact with the concrete. Then he reached down and pulled Bloom up after him. She was about to give him a sarcastic ‘thank you’ for his efforts -

But then Jim pulled her against him - much closer than they had been previously - and pressed his lips against hers.

Bloom’s eyes went wide, and for a moment she felt frozen her brain tried to work out whether this was a good thing, or the start of a path that would inevitably lead to more trouble than it was worth. And then, as quickly as those fears had bubbled up in her chest, they faded away, leaving a warmth that spread down her appendages and made her toes curl. Her eyes slid shut, and she somehow managed to wrap her arms around his neck.

Jim kissed her with as much confidence as he spoke, and at times Bloom could feel him smirk. But she took it as a challenge, matching his intensity as their lips slid together and his hands roamed her back. The intensity slowly morphs into passion, and Jim finally pulls away from her lips, only to start trailing hot, open-mouthed kissed along her throat.

He hit a particularly sensitive spot, and Bloom can’t help the moan that escapes her mouth . “Oh god…”

“Just your regular semi-immortal man, but I’m flattered nonetheless.”

She heaved, trying desperately to regain her breath. “S...Shut up, Jim.”

His lips halted, and a second later Bloom was looking him in the eyes. The intensity there was gone, replaced with something hypnotic and much more lustful. “Make me.”

Her chest exploded with fire, and she fisted her hands in his jacket as she crashed her lips against his again. Jim took her in stride, and Bloom felt his gloved hand reach up and take hold of the zipper on the front of her jumpsuit. “You know,” he breathed between kisses, “You look awfully hot in that.”

“Oh?” she asked, beginning to peel his jacket back from one shoulder. “Maybe you could help me with that.”

His lips pressed against hers in short, wet kisses, and Bloom heard the metallic clink of him starting to pull it down. “Well, if you’re so instant - ”

“Bloom?”

They jumped apart from each other, the lustful haze around them shattering. Bloom’s eyes went to door leading inside the building, but no one was there. She looked back at Jim, who appeared just as startled as she was.

“Bloom? Come in Bloom!”

The voice sounded again. From Bloom’s wrist.

She looked down at the watch, shining faintly compared to the lights of the city and stars around them. Embarrassment washed over her, and Bloom sat up on the roof, taking a second to regain her breathing. She pressed the butterfly-shaped watchface. “I’m here Tecna, do you copy?”

“There you are! We hadn’t heard anything from you in a while. Is everything okay up there?”

Bloom looked over at Jim, his expression now unreadable. “U-Uh, yeah. Everything’s fine. No problem at all.”

“Great. If you don’t mind then, I could use your help back here analyzing some of the data I took on the World of Dreams.”

Her heart sank lower. “...Of course. I’ll be right there.”

The watch beeped, and the light on its face blinked off. As soon as it did Bloom exhaled, putting a hand to her head. She felt exhausted all of a sudden.

There was a sound of scraping shoes, and Bloom looked up to see Jim standing and shrugging back into his jacket. “It seems you have some more pressing matters to attend to.”

Bloom bit her lip. “It looks like it.”

He offered a hand, and Bloom took it, standing and brushing some dust off her legs. “I...think we got a little carried away.”

“It seems we did.” He smiled slightly, another genuine one, and reached out to her. Bloom was confused for a minute before she heard the sound of a zipper, sliding back up to the top of her suit. She felt her cheeks redden. “You better go before someone comes looking for you.”

“Yeah...I guess so. And you better get back to guard duty.”

“I suppose I better.”

Bloom nodded, and finally took a step back. She was about to turn away when a thought came to her. “You never answered my question.”

“What question?”

“Which star is the World of Dreams?”

Jim stared at her for a minute, then burst out laughing. Bloom half expected a fight, but he turned and pointed at the sky. “It’s in the bottom of Andromeda. Those two stars in the bottom left of the triangle: the one on the right.”

She followed his finger. “Second star to the right and straight on ‘til morning.”

His head snapped back to her. “...I wasn’t aware that was a phrase used here.”

“It’s old; from a fairytale…” she trailed off, purposely averting her gaze. “Maybe I could show it to you sometime.”

There wasn’t a response, and when Bloom looked back that smirk was right back on Jim’s face as if it’d never left. “I think I’d like that.”

Bloom smiled back, and with that finally turned and walked to the other side of the roof, picking up the pace the closer she got. She jumped off the edge and landed on the building at the other side, and kept running back towards the van.

Bloom didn’t bother asking if Jim would be back. She had a feeling she knew the answer.

#winx club #world of winx #bloom x jim #sea dragon #liz writes fic #fanfic #if you are on mobile I am SO sorry

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beelieveinfandom · 7 years

Text

Haunted and Hunted Chapter Four

Chapters: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5 AO3 Link

AO3 is highly advised due to Tumblr having formatting issues.

“And you’re sure this won't kill me somehow?” Charlie asked.

“Yes. Absolutely. If anything goes wrong we’ll stop at once, and even if we don’t, anything going unusually will activate this spell, instantly ending the ritual.” Renee was pointing at a ring of runes inside the arcane circle.

The circle was, outside of the killswitch addition, a very simple one. A pentacle drawn in chalk on the hard cement floor with the five symbols of banishment at each of the star’s corners. It was the simplest reliable banishment spell possible, pretty much only able to work on consenting entities or those who lacked any sort of intent of their own.

I worked pretty hard on that cancel button and I’m like, 80% sure it’ll be fine.

You’re telling me this has a 20% chance of killing me‽

I mean, maybe?

I’m pretty much pulling numbers out of my ass here, to be quite honest.

everything you say is so reassuring.

Hey, I’m the one that advocated against this from the start.

You wanted us to do nothing!

I wanted us to wait for more data. My friend will get us the original summoning circle, and reverse engineering it will be way easier and safer than just guessing at what might work.

But how long will that take? And how will your ‘friend’ even contact us, assuming they get the plans? We’re gonna be in the middle of the woods away from all electronics for a while.

That’s hardly a concern. He’ll find a way; he’s quite crafty.

Anyway.

You’re the one at risk so it’s your decision. You don’t trust my friend? Fine. Try banishing me. Just know that there is danger involved.

“Charlie?” Renee said, “are you ready for us to begin?”

“Um,” Charlie said. “Sure. Let’s… Let’s get this over with.”

“Make sure to let us know if anything feels off.”

“How am I supposed to know if something feels of if I don’t know what getting exorcised is suppose to feel like?”

“Um…” Renee said, “we’ll go slowly. Try and imagine what a normal exorcism might feel like and let us know if this feels different.”

“I’m having second thoughts. Actually, I think I’m probably on fifth or sixth thoughts by now.”

“It’s okay to back out. We don’t have to do this.”

“I’ll be the first to admit I’ve got a bad feeling about this,” Vin said. “On the other hand, how much worse can shit actually get?”

“That’s actually a good point,” Charlie said. “I already could easily die via possession, or get captured by creepy scientists, or like, trip on a rock and die. Why not add ‘death from good intentions’ to the list? Yeah, let’s do this!”

Charlie walked into the center of the circle and sat down. Renee started chanting a simple chant in modern English. Older dialects and languages tended to be more powerful, but they were easier to fuck up and there was little need for making the ritual as powerful as possible.

“Um,” Charlie said after a minute, “is it supposed to hurt? Like a lot? Like my skin’s on fire?”

Renee stopped chanting at once. “No, it’s not supposed to hurt at all! Are you okay?”

“Define ‘okay’,” Charlie said. “If your definition includes ‘feels like I just got a really bad sunburn but it’s kinda fading’ then yeah, I’m okay. Or at least as okay as I was before, which was already pushing the definition of ‘okay’.”

“I’m sorry. It would seem that they did tie your skin into the ritual they used.” Renee sighed. “I have no idea where to go from here.”

“Well, maybe mysterious computer friend will come through,” Charlie said. “If not, well, guess I’ll die.”

“Charlie.” Renee met Charlie’s gaze. “You’re not going to die. There are still other things we can try.”

“Really?” Charlie broke away from Renee’s eye contact, shifting zir gaze to the floor. “Like what?”

“Ah...” Renee’s face passed through several expressions before settling on ‘student woken up when called upon to demonstrate a problem for the class’. “Well, we still have time to think of things we can try.”

“Or maybe the situation is just boned and there is nothing we can do,” Vin said. “Like I hate to be that guy but sometimes shit’s just irrevocably fucked.”

“Vin!”

“What? We were all thinkin’ it. Someone had to unpack that shit from the back of their mind and put it on the table to be beheld in all its awful smelly glory.” Vin shrugged. “I still got a bad feeling; I don’t think we’re going to find something that will work.”

“You still have a bad feeling even after we stopped the ritual?” Renee asked. “Are you sure it’s about Charlie at all?”

He shrugged. “What part of ‘I don’t know a thing, my guy’ do you have trouble understanding?”

“That’s not good.” Renee slithered around the chalk circle on the ground. “Maybe we should start moving.”

“Yeah,” Vin said. “Maybe.”

Cleaning the circle off the rough cement floor was easy, which was good because they were in a hurry and it was generally considered rude to leave ritual materials strewn about someone else’s place.

Getting their things together was also pretty quick as they hadn’t had any reason to unpack much the night before. It took only a few minutes to add the few items that Marcus had given them to their things.

Their footsteps echoed faintly through the otherwise silent early morning hallways as they went back through the same path that Marcus had led them through the day before. Walking through the dim corridors they saw no sign of their host, but they figured that she wouldn’t mind them disappearing without saying goodbye.

The crisp outdoor air chilled their lungs as they left the building. They headed East - Marcus had said that it was the shortest way out of the forest and Renee wanted to scout out the area outside. She wasn’t sure she wanted to leave the woods yet - they didn’t have anywhere to go and the woods were large and secluded enough to be a decent place to hide - but she at least wanted a solid idea of what was beyond.

Cliffs rose to either side of them as they walked. It made Renee nervous, but suggesting alternate paths didn’t alleviate the dark feeling that hung over Vin like a bad toupée, and this path seemed to be the easiest way East. The relative flatness and rocky nature of the ground suggested that they were in a dried out riverbed, and none of them were going to complain about having slightly less underbrush to navigate through.

Renee was being careful. Vin’s intuition was telling them something was wrong and she was not going to let whatever fate had in store catch them unawares. She was almost entirely focused on her farsight, trusting in her companions to keep an eye on the immediate surroundings.

Her first thought had been that something was happening at the facility, but when she checked she found the place utterly immersed in chaos. People were rushing out of the place, alarm lights were flashing, a small fire (normal and red/orange in appearance for once) was raging in one of the computer rooms. It seemed unlikely that they were going to be able try anything. She supposed it could be an elaborate ruse but it seemed unlikely that they would actually set their building on fire just in case she happened to check on them.

So whatever was going to happen was already in the works. And was quite possibly unavoidable, judging from Vin’s current state.

She supposed it was possible that whatever was going to happen had nothing to do with the facility at all, and that they were about to die to a supervolcano explosion or a meteor strike or something. There wasn’t really anything that they would be able to do about a natural disaster, and it would explain why no suggestions altered Vin’s intuition.

She decided to stop thinking about that. There was no point wasting her time worrying about things she couldn’t do anything about.

It was possible the small fire at the facility could rage out of control and burn the whole forest down. It was kinda dry. How dry did it even need to be to burn green wood anyway? She really should have studied more wilderness survival. Now they were all going to burn to death and she wouldn’t even know how impressed to be that the fire managed to spread.

She decided to Stop Thinking About That. She wasn’t wasting her time worrying about things she couldn’t do anything about.

She managed to go about a minute before checking back on the fire at the facility. It seemed to be smaller than it had been when she first noticed it. There were sprinklers on. They were probably going to wreck all the computer hardware in that room.

She took a few breaths and shifted her focus away from the facility. The fire wasn’t going be a problem. There was no point watching the facility anymore. Whatever threat menaced them now was already on its way.

The other day the doctor - Dana, their name had been Dana - had been adamant on getting someone involved who was qualified to deal with Tyrone. That was probably what was happening. Not a massive fire, not a supervolcano, just someone who had some way of tracking them and good enough mobility that they couldn’t be evaded with good intuition alone. Someone who would have a computer on them and wouldn’t be fooled by simple illusions.

Renee still had no idea how, exactly, she was supposed to deal with this, but combed through the woods with her farsight anyway, figuring that if she could at least see the threat she might be able to better assess the situation.

The group continued in silence for a ways. No one really felt like talking.

The silence that hung over them wasn’t a comfortable one. The sense of dread that weighed down Vin had spread to everyone, and they were all just waiting to hear the grenade’s pin drop.

And drop it most certainly did.

There was nothing unusual about the patch of thin forest they were traversing through until the trees wavered and disappeared, revealing a clearing with a single short person grinning ahead of them.

The group stopped suddenly, with Renee putting herself in front of the other two.

Looking around, she noticed people with guns pointed towards them on the cliffs to either side.

“You didn’t think you were the only one that could make illusions, did you?” the person said. Their skin was dark and their white hair reached just past the small of their back. They were dressed very formally, in well-fitting clothing that was far too clean for someone trekking through the forest to be wearing.

“Oh, you really shouldn’t look so shocked, dear.” Their voice was high pitched and sounded sort of like someone attempting to talk with a German accent after having one described secondhand to them, which happened to be exactly what a modern Australian accent sounded like.

“You didn’t actually think that a few simple illusions and a bit of luck could keep you from me, did you? Now, that’s just darling? ” they said, clapping their hands together. “Anyways, let’s get on with things, shall we?”

A magicore floated to their hands from behind them. It was a smooth orb, covered with yellow lines of light that danced around at the magi’s touch. The magi made a few sweeping gestures, strumming the magicore as their hands moved around it, and then flicked both their wrists, causing a bright yellow light to shoot away from them at Charlie.

Charlie barely had time to register the light before it hit zir, lifting zir off the ground and illuminating zir body in a blinding flash. This only lasted a moment before ze fell out of the air and consciousness.

Alcor managed to land in a manner that didn’t even vaguely resemble elegant, but at least didn’t hurt the body at all.

“So you cannot be sedated, such a shame,” they said. “I take it that now I’m dealing you and not some little child?”

“I’m amazed you still have the resources left to bother with us.”

“Oh, they paid me in advance darling; I couldn’t care less about what happens to them.”

“You might want to double check that that transfer actually went through.”

“Who cares . What matters is that this is you! Oh, how exciting this all is. I’ve been waiting for years for this moment, you know. Admittedly, this is not quite how I saw this encounter going, but you can’t let a few details get you down, am I right?”

Alcor stared at the magi.

“Let’s do introductions, shall we? Not that you need any introductions, your reputation precedes you, but I’m afraid mine does not. At least, not in your current state. Normally I imagine you have no need for introductions at all. Must make social encounters very convenient. Anyway, I’m Magi Briana Hurtzog, she/her, at your service. Well, not at your service per say, but you know what I mean.”

“Am I supposed to be pleased to meet you or something?” Alcor all but snarled. “Because I really cannot fully encapsulate how much that is not the case.”

“How could you say such a thing? This scar goes deep into my heart.” She dramatically covered her heart with a hand. “Anyways you should come with me and we can go get you out of that ridiculous body.”

“And then what?” Alcor crossed Charlie’s arms.

“I’m not going to lie,” she said. “What happens next is not exactly in your favor. But it will be a great learning opportunity for everybody involved and I think we can all agree that that is what really matters.”

“And what about the kids?” Alcor asked. “What happens to them?”

“What? Them? I don’t care about them . They can go back to prancing through the woods or whatever it is that they were doing. I’m not their babysitter.” She waved her hand absently. “That said, if you don’t come along nicely, well, I don’t care about them. Or specifically what will happen to them. What all of these armed guards will do to them. I’m going to have them killed is what I’m saying here.”

“No, I got that.”

“Oh good. One can never be sure.”

“I’m many things, but a moron isn’t one of them,” he said dryly.

“Some people have trouble with the subtext, darling.” She spread her fingers wide. “There is no shame in that.”

“Do you people have any tricks up your sleeve besides threatening children?”

“Oh!” Her face lit up. “I could also threaten you directly if you’d prefer.”

Briana’s hands spun around her magicore, tiny bolts of electricity reaching between it and her fingers.

She snapped, pointing at Alcor.

It was like being slammed into a wall. Pain - and not the interesting kind - blossomed through his very being. The world spun. He stumbled backwards, or maybe just thought he did because the body didn’t seem to actually change position.

“Not very pleasant, I hope? Just a little something I’ve been working on in my spare time. That was roughly one percent of what it’s capable of. If my calculations are correct I imagine that at full power it would be capable of rendering you incapacitated for a number of hours.”

“Why the hell didn’t you start with that?” he growled.

“Language, darling. There are children about. As for your question, I was hoping we could keep this civil and not have to resort to threats of torture.”

“So instead you open with threats of child murder.”

“Exactly, darling. Now I think we’ve wasted enough time with all of this chitter chatter. Shall we be going, or are you going to make things unnecessarily difficult?”

Renee looked around. She was not going to panic this time. There was a way out, she knew that. She just had to find it. She was smart. Clever. She could do this. Would do this.

Breathe in

Breathe out

Alcor was still talking, having taken a few steps towards the magi. It was hard to say if he had a plan or was just testing the waters. She had to assume that he didn’t have a plan. Worst case scenario, there would be redundancy. Who was she kidding, worst case scenario they were all going to BE FINE. This was Fine. She just needed a plan.

Breathe in

She was fine.

Vin was casually looking at the gunpeople periodically spaced around the cliff’s edge.

Breathe out.

Good. Now go talk to Vin.

“How are you so calm about all this?” Renee whispered, more harshly than she intended. It wasn’t what she intended to say, but upon reflection she couldn’t figure out what she meant to say outside of ‘something else’.

“What?” he replied. “It’s not like we were going to remain valuable assets forever. This was pretty inevitable.”

“Not it isn’t! We’ve gotten so far. Their building is on fire, for Pete’s sake. We just need to find a way out, it’s going to be okay. We are going to be okay.”

Breathe.

“Hey Renee?” Vin said.

“What?”

“I just wanted to say, thanks for everything. These last few days,” he laughed, “okay, these last few days have been a fucking shitshow, but it’s a shitshow that I’m really glad I got the opportunity to experience. I never would have gotten out of there on my own. If it wasn’t for you... I didn’t really have any memories from before, you know, so just having this time out here, having gotten to see and do all this shit before I die… It means a lot to me.��

“Vin, stop talking like that, we’re going to be fine -”

“This is fine,” he shrugged. “Well, it’s kinda bullshit that they are going to kill you too. I’m sorry I can’t help you there; someone as great as you really does deserve better.”

“Vin please, no one is going to die. We just need a plan.”

“Aren’t you supposed to be the realistic one? We’ve seen way too much. The only reason we aren’t dead yet is they want to make sure that Tyrone’s pacified first so he doesn’t get mad enough to explode Charlie and burninate everyone.”

“But hey!” He beamed. “Look on the bright side. This is by far the coolest thing to ever happen to us, and I don’t know about you but I’ve been dying to participate in something this dramatic.”

“How can you -” She shook her head. “No. We are going to get out of this alive. We just… can’t you feel anything about the future? There has to be something.”

“Nah. I ain’t got shit right now.”

“Please! You have to have something. Anything! It just... even some little random impulse.”

“Hey, you know that I can’t control this shit.” He laughed completely mirthlessly. “And I really don’t think you want me to follow my impulses right now. Not really any need to rush it at this point, anyway.”

“Vin come on, there’s something. There has to be something. What about what they were having you do back at the lab? You had some amount of control over that, didn’t you?”

“Renee! I can’t just…”

“You haven’t even tried! You’ve said yourself that you don’t know how this works, the extents of your capabilities!”

“Fine.” He rolled his eyes and then closed them. “Look, I’m making my best constipated face while wishing really hard on -”

His eyes went wide, pupils constricted to nothing.

“Oh fuck.”

The scar along his forehead shot open, his third eye dilated to blackness.

Vin crumpled.

Collapsed.

Renee froze. Balled her hands, nails drawing blood. Reached out, grabbing, pulling him to her chest.

“I’m so sorry. Fuck I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have pushed you. I shouldn’t have… I’m sorry. Please say something. Please be okay. You have to be okay.”

She was shaking. Holding him. Tighter, probably, than was wise. Lower torso curling in on itself, pushing and flipping. Slamming against the ground. Her eyes raced around, looking for answers, a way out, something, anything . For.

The gunpeople were alarmed by something, shuffling around, taking aim. Had she made too large of a scene? She wrapped herself around Vin as much as she could. She had a lot of body mass; she could probably take a shot or two, right?

She again looked for any sort of out. For a sign. For a plan.

She could… she could probably project pain with her illusions. Pain was a sensory thing.

That would have to make aiming harder, right?

The gunpeople weren’t aiming at her and Vin. They were focused farther away.

At Charlie.

No.

At Tyrone.

He was next to the magi.

When did that happen?

He didn’t seem to notice the guns. He didn’t seem to notice the danger he was in.

That he was putting Charlie in.

The magi was weaving her arm through the air, casting some spell.

Tyrone was so close. He took the arm.

The gun people were going to-

Renee closed her eyes, keeping the location of the gunpeople in her mind.

She thought about needles. Of scalpels. Of being huddled on a bed too small for her as something ripped through her brain, through her insides.

Screams broke her concentration. The people with guns were screaming.

She was doing that. Oh god that was her she -

No.

She was doing this. This was the plan now. They were screaming and she had to do this.

The magi pulled her arm back.

“Really?” she said. “I think I can manage to handle all the might and physical prowess of an overweight child, darling.”

He was smiling. Baring teeth. Lips stretched farther than they should.

He pushed his claws into her arm. Through the thick fingers and useless nails of the body that contained him. He pushed , sinking into her arm, sinking past her skin, past her flesh, past her bones, into Her.

She realized what he was doing. All her cockiness evaporated in an instant, confidence replaced by desperate anger.

She yanked her arm back, shouting with no words but purely emotion.

Her skin, her flesh, her bones: they easily pulled out of the weak and bloody grip of the child.

His claws were still gripping her Arm, though.

And without her Arm, her skin, flesh, and bones fell limp at her shoulder.

Alcor.

Pulled.

She was screaming. She was panic. She was terror. The emotions filled Alcor, rushing through him like fire. It had been far too long since he had done anything like this. It had been far too long since he let himself do anything fun .

She was writhing in agony, her scream becoming the air he breathed. She genuinely seemed to think that somehow, with the right combination of movements and actions, she could possibly get out of this.

Watching her final sliver of hope die was hilarious.

Her soul was everything. Even the small amount he consumed through his grip was freedom from the tight compressed confinement that he hadn’t realized he’d been feeling. Energy rushed through him as a wave, giddy lightning that tingled and vibrated and pushed out all the stress and frustration and utter bullshit of the past. It was taking a beautiful, intricate mechanism and slamming it on the ground, watching it shatter into something new and even more beautiful. It was jumping on a table in a crowd and screaming . It was overturning a picnic table into a river. It was standing up and decking someone after years of silent discomfort. It was freedom, true freedom. It was the promise that this moment could be truly wonderful if you would just let it.

Who cared what these stupid mortals had been trying to do? He was Alcor! He was the single strongest entity in the whole dimension! They only existed because he permitted it, because they were entertaining. Why should he give a fuck about what ridiculous things they did to each other? About what they did on their comically absurd destiny to ensure their own destruction. Why the fuck had he let any of their petty bullshit tie him down?

He was laughing. He was hysterical. Why wouldn’t he be? What did he care if his body ran out of air? It wasn’t like he needed it.

WRONG.

He stopped, smile fading from his face. The magi reduced to a twitching pile of limbs, her soul frozen in his firm grasp.

Oh. that was right. He cared. Him with his stupid boring killjoy self.

He was Alcor. He was the twin star, the brother, the gruncle, and he was strong enough to ignore the temptation of one measly soul.

One really, really tasty soul. That was right there. Bright. Beautiful. Perfect in every way, really. Tingly and light and -

There would be other souls. Better ones.

But there was also this soul right here, and really the future wasn’t real anyway, so…

That would hurt Charlie. The body was absolutely not going to survive having that much energy going through it.

Ze was already dying, though. Would it really be worth it to waste such a wonderful opportunity if ze was just going to die anyway ? Really, who cared about this one person?

Him. He cared. He absolutely cared. He pushed the soul away from his - from Charlie’s body, a tiny spark flickering from where he rejected the energy he already absorbed from it.

He stared at the cyan flame.

Well now.

It wasn’t much of a consolation prize, but if it worked it would be absolutely hilarious.

Charlie’s face resumed its unnatural grin.

He pushed, ever so gently, on the soul. Its energy was already connected to him so it really should take no effort at all to…

The soul exploded in brilliant fire, racing through the valley with the slightest command. Up the cliffs it raced, searing through the rocks, silicon rich sediments melting into hard and rough glass. It was at the top in an instant. At the gunpeople, who were for some reason a disorganized mess, in an instant. It burned -

That would be crossing a line, wouldn’t it.

It melted their guns. And burned their clothes off. People didn’t need clothes to survive. Or hair.

The remaining energy of the soul roared around him like a maelstorm. It was screaming. The tiny bond that connected it to him was a dagger lancing through him - the real him - not the body he wore. It was wonderfully satisfying and delightfully real in a way most magic just wasn’t and -

TYRONE!

Alcor froze, confused, at the sound that echoed around his mind. Tyrone. That meant something to him, right? He looked away from the beautiful storm of fire that danced around him for a source of the interruption.

There was a person close by. The cloud of fear around them was so thick it was almost impossible to see them through it.

“That’s enough,” they (Renee Iris Etheridge, ~16.853 years old, dead in - ) said.

This mortal was trying to tell him what to do.

Something was wrong. Obviously. He was going to have to teach her a lesson.

No.

Something else was wrong.

He knew the exact time and place of Renee’s death.

His omniscience was trickling in.

His omniscience was trickling through.

Charlie's dreamscape wasn’t strong enough anymore.

He had forgotten about Charlie.

A quick internal check revealed that Charlie was still around, but ze felt faint. Which was entirely his fault. He had forgotten about Charlie. He -

“That’s enough, ” Renee said, surprisingly firmly for how much fear swirled around her. “They aren’t a threat anymore. You can let that go.”

For a moment Alcor had no idea what she was talking about. Then he followed her gaze upward, at the soul that he had entrapped.

He stared at the spinning vortex of soul above him. It was screaming just like Henry had screamed. He couldn’t - wouldn’t - do that. Even if the person did deserve it. Wasn’t going to make it beg for the mercy of centuries of digestion.

He.

He let go of the soul. Watched it practically explode in order to dissipate away. Felt its screams fade.

He was going to fucking slaughter some cults when this was all over.

He let Charlie’s body relax.

Renee was curled up around Vin staring wide eyed at Alcor. She was trembling slightly, clutching Vin like a lifesaver.

Vin didn’t look well.

“What was that?” Renee asked, leaning away from Alcor, putting the bulk of herself between them. “I could feel that with senses I can’t even… What was that?”

He paused. There was definitely a wrong answer here.

“As you know, living organisms, especially those with higher levels of cognizance, produce significant amounts of magical energy from their emotions and intent. I just realized that this was an external source of power I could use without channeling it through Charlie’s body.”

“Was that her soul ?” Renee pushed herself a titch farther away from the demon.

“Yes.”

“What’s going to happen to it now?”

“It’s going to need a little time to regenerate the energy I burned,” Alcor said. “But it should reincarnate just like any other soul removed from its body.”

“You’re not a ghost, are you,” she said quietly.

“I never claimed to be one.”

“What are you?

He smiled. “I think that you are a very smart girl with a lot of evidence at her disposal and probably shouldn’t ask questions when you don’t want to know the answer.”

She kept looking at him.

“Now, do you have the first aid kit that Marcus gave us? I fucked up Charlie’s hand pretty bad back there.” Which was really putting it mildly. Charlie's right palm, where Alcor had pushed through, resembled a failed attempt to cook hamburger more than it did a hand. The skin was badly and unevenly torn, there was uneven charring all over, and it was so bloody that assessing the extent of the damage was impossible.

“Right,” she said, uncurling to get access to her bag. “Right.”

Renee shifted through the contents of her pack. She had thought that she had put things away neatly, but the inside was a mess.

“Why are you helping us?” she asked, looking up.

“Because I want to. Which is pretty much the reason I do anything, really.”

She pulled the first aid pack out of the mess. “That is not... reassuring.”

Alcor sat down and put the first aid kit in Charlie’s lap, picking though it. “It isn’t exactly new information. I’ve been pretty open about the fact that I could leave at any time so long as I didn’t mind killing Charlie.”

“I know that, but I guess I hadn’t really internalized it.” She watched as Alcor cleaned the wound. “Despite what you said, it has felt like you were stuck in the same boat as the rest of us. But you’re only here as long as you want to be. I’ll admit, it makes me nervous. That you might stop wanting to help us. That you could just get tired of all this and leave, taking Charlie’s life with you.”

“I’m not willing to kill Charlie. That isn’t likely to change.” He covered Charlie’s hand with a skin growth spray. “And I’m confident that the friend I contacted will be able to help. Not just with Charlie and my thing, but with getting all of us past this. I may not be stuck here, but I am still in the same boat as you - and we’re going to hit shore soon. Speaking of which -”

Alcor walked over to Magi Briana’s body. Body being the key word - it was not a corpse. One might assume that a body, upon having its soul violently ripped out, might die. One would be wrong. A body doesn’t need a soul to survive. A body needs a soul to be a person. From the body formerly belonging to Magi Briana’s perspective, all that had happened over the past few minutes was that a child gripped its arm with all the strength that a child doesn’t have and it suddenly found itself in the market for a new a tenant. The biohazardous blood from Charlie’s wound was closer to being a threat to the body than anything Alcor had intentionally done.

The body didn’t react to Alcor’s approach. Giving a shit about a literal demon coming towards you while looking like it wants something was the business of a person, which was no longer the body’s problem as of a minute ago.

Alcor took the headset from the body. It, unsurprisingly, did not resist. It didn’t do anything. Soulless bodies were boring .

“Are you seriously leaving Charlie’s hand like that?” Renee asked before Alcor could say anything into the microphone. “You can’t just spray skin growth formula on tissue that’s that badly damaged. You need to treat the injury first.”

“Do you know how to treat something this bad?” Alcor asked.

“When it’s this bad is when you seek medical attention.” She shook her head. “Actually, you should go to a doctor even if it’s a lot better than this. But I can at least make a dressing for it, make sure it stays moist. Let me see it.”

She carefully set Vin down next to her.

Alcor offered her the hand, which she took and started cleaning more thoroughly.

“Hey kid,” Alcor said into the microphone.

The headset was an old fashioned two way radio. It was specifically designed to only use one frequency. The computer on it was so simple that calling it a computer was like calling chihuahua an apex predator. From a logical standpoint, there should be no way it could be infected by a computer virus, as there was really nothing to infect. The Alcor Virus realized this, decided that he didn’t much care for that line of logic, and infected it anyway.

“Hey Dad,” the virus said. “Guess who has no thumbs and fucked up?”

“What happened?”

“They figured out it was me almost as soon as I started doing anything,” the virus said. “Which isn’t surprising; I think they were expecting me. Anyway the long and short of it is they destroyed the servers that had the information you need before I could get it.”

Alcor pinched the bridge of Charlie's nose with zir good hand. “I’m starting to think that they want me to kill them in the most gruesome way possible.”

“It’s not entirely lost, though: I have located a backup. Unfortunately, my ability to access it depends on the cooperation of a human person. I think I should be able to make it work, though.”

“We should plan for what happens if you can’t.”

“For sure. What chance of success do you think you’d have of fixing this on your own?”

“Fairly low.” Alcor sighed. “We’ve determined they’ve incorporated zir skin into the binding ritual but we don't know any details about what they did besides that. If we actually had the skin things might be easier, but we don’t.”

“Why don’t you go get it?”

Alcor raised Charlie’s eyebrows. “You’re suggesting we go back?”

“Why not? Thanks to me and the literal fire the place is pretty well cleared out.”

“Right. Renee mentioned that earlier. Why exactly was the place on fire?”

“They started it,” the Alcor Virus said. “Some moron wanted to be very sure I couldn’t get at those files, I guess. And they weren’t very careful about the surroundings. It’s died down by now, but the combination of that and what I was doing mean that the place is pretty empty now.”

“And you can make sure it stays that way?”

“I pretty much tripped every alarm they had. And since they have no way of knowing if I just tripped an alarm or actually broke something, releasing dangerous quantities of ionizing radiation or carbon monoxide or one of the other half dozen things they were monitoring, it’s going to take more than a day or two for them to determine if it’s safe to actually enter the place. Assuming that they can even get there, which I plan on making hard for them. Did you know that it takes about forty miles for the single road leading to the facility to connect with anything?”

Alcor smiled. “What are you planning on doing with it?”

“I’m not sure yet. I was thinking of taking control of a forklift and stacking some cars on top of each other to make a pileup. There’s also a logging company nearby so it might be easier to just pile some trees on the road, but that’s less fun.”

“Those both sound like they’d work just fine.”

“There’s also a satellite launch happening two states over in a few hours. I’m pretty sure I could hijack the rocket and crash it into the street. They specifically design them to not turn around mid air and crash into the ground, so getting it to do that with any precision would be a challenge, but where’s the fun in life without a little challenge?”

Alcor shook Charlie’s head slightly. “That sounds like it would likely generate more attention then we would want.”

“You’re probably right - but consider - I would get to hack and crash a rocket for the greater good.”

“Do whatever you think is best, and have your fun, just make sure it works. I don’t want another molasses incident here.”

“In my defense,” the Alcor Virus said, “the molasses incident was hilarious.”

“No one is questioning the hilarity of the incident,” Alcor clarified. “I’m just pointing out that it didn’t accomplish what we wanted in the slightest.”

“Which did sort of make the whole thing even more funny.”

“That may be true,” Alcor said with a smile. “But we really can’t afford that sort of mishap right now. Charlie’s life is very much on the line, and if people get through on that road, Vin and Renee are in danger as well.”

“I suppose I could find a different reason to crash a rocket…”

“Do you really need a reason?”

“It’s more funny that way.”

“Well let me know when you’ve blocked that road off, alright?” Alcor said. “I should bring Renee back into the loop.”

“Will do,” the virus said. “It will probably be a little, there’s nothing very close that I can infect.”

“I take it your friend didn’t get the ritual diagram,” Renee said, gently wrapping a bandage around Charlie’s hand.

“No,” Alcor sighed. “They destroyed the digital data before he could. He’s located a backup but will need to get someone to cooperate with him in order to get it.”

“And I’m sure he’s just great at getting people to cooperate with him.”

“It really will depend on what sort of person has backup. If it’s the same person that decided that the correct solution for a data breach was to set a server on fire, he’s going to have to be careful. If it’s a more reasonable person… well, he has a lot he can offer a reasonable person.”

“And in the meantime you’re suggesting we go back,” Renee stated.

“We need Charlie’s skin,” Alcor said. “The facility is going to be a better place to do a ritual than anywhere else in this woods. There also might be physical documentation on the ritual they used that my friend couldn’t access. The place is empty right now, and my friend is going to block the road ensuring it stays that way, so it should be safe.”

“I’m not going to say you’re wrong, but I don’t like it.” Renee hugged her arms tightly to her chest. “I never want to go back to that awful place.”

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to,” Alcor pointed out. “I can probably manage on my own at this point.”

“I don’t want to abandon Charlie,” Renee said resolutely. “And if there are people still there, you’ll need my illusions.”

“I still have my fire.”

“How much more fire can you produce without further aggravating Charlie's condition?” Renee asked. “Especially after that stunt you just pulled?”

Alcor didn’t respond, thinking about how loose the bond between him and Charlie felt. Any fire at all was probably a bad idea.

“If there is anyone left, you’ll need my illusions,” she said firmly.

“I’m certainly not going to argue against help,” Alcor said. “I just don’t want you to feel pressured into doing something you don’t want to do.”

She picked up Vin again. “My anxiety will eat me alive if I stay back while you two go ahead. I’ll feel better doing something, even if it’s largely unnecessary, than I will if I do nothing. Even if that means going back.”

“Alright then,” Alcor said. “Let’s get on with it. We should see if there’s a way up the cliffs. They probably have some kind of vehicle that we could use, or at least tracks we could follow.”

They walked along the cliff face, looking for a path.

“In case I missed saying it before, thank you for earlier,” Alcor said.

“For what?”

“For stopping me.” Alcor paused before continuing. “If I had been left to my own devices… I’m not sure Charlie would have survived.”

“It was nothing,” Renee said, avoiding Alcor’s gaze.

“It was extraordinary. You were terrified, I was putting on what was likely the single greatest demonstration of destructive power you had ever seen, you had no idea how I would react, and you drew attention to yourself to call me out anyway.”

“Someone had to do something, and I didn’t think the either the dead woman or the two unconscious people were like going to seize the initiative.”

“Speaking of which, what happened to Vin anyway?”

Renee’s gaze dropped. “He’ll be fine in an hour or two. He tried to find a way out and ended up looking too far forward. It’s my fault; I shouldn’t have pushed him after he said that he didn’t have any intuition on what to do next. I knew that this is what happens when he tries to control his abilities and I told him to do it anyway. I guess I thought that if the situation was dire enough adrenaline might get him through it? Or more likely I wasn’t thinking about what the consequences would be for him at all, only about what I wanted.”

“What you wanted was for all of us to get out alive,” Alcor said gently. “You didn’t know I was capable of doing what I did. There was a chance that Vin could have been the straw to tip the scales in our favor, and you acted on that chance. If the only options you know about are to risk putting Vin through this or to die, risking this is the right choice.”

“But was it really my choice to make?” Renee asked. “I’m not the one who got hurt.”

“He was presumably also aware of what happens when he pushes himself and tried it anyway. He made just as much of a choice as you did.”

“I don’t think he was actually trying to look into the future, though.” Renee was slithering slowly. “He was being really flippant about it, and he seemed genuinely surprised when his third eye opened.”

“It is possible that he only did it because of you. That doesn’t mean you made a bad choice.”

“He seemed so content,” Renee said. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen him so relaxed and peaceful as he was when he was sure that he was going to die.”

“Renee,” Alcor said. “Vin’s severely depressed. His relationship with death is badly skewed.”

“Is it really our place to say that it’s a bad end for him, though?” Renee said quietly. “It’s what he wants. It feel selfish to say that he has to live because I want him to.”

Alcor took a deep breath before speaking. “Look, I know you feel like a shitty person who selfishly hurt her friend, but a) you’re not and b) even if you were that doesn’t mean that you’re wrong about everything. Yes, Vin wants to die. Vin also wants to be eating chocolate at all times. If you feel comfortable denying his desire to constantly consume confectionaries you should feel fine denying his desire to die. He’s sick, and unless things worked very differently at the facility than I’m assuming they did, he’s completely untreated and spent most of his life in a triggering situation. I’m not going to say that death is never a solution - there is a reason assisted suicide is a thing - but death is a very final solution. It’s what you do when nothing else works, when you’ve expended all your options, the pain is unbearable and can’t be stopped. It’s not what you do when you haven’t even tried a single method of treatment.”

“But he’s not going to be able to get treated!” Renee cried. “We can’t even go to a farm in the middle of the night without disguising our faces; we’re not going to be able to walk into a psychiatrist’s office, assuming we could even find someone who does in-person visitations.”

“Sure you will. Remember we aren’t alone anymore; I brought someone else into it. This could go very public if we want it to. Or we could shut it down quietly and blackmail them into leaving you alone. Either way, you’re not going to spend the rest of your life hiding in the woods. Unless you want to, of course, in which case I’m not going to stop you. Live the dream.”

“You’re saying we can put this whole ordeal behind us, just like that?” Renee said.

“You don’t sound especially excited about the prospect.”

She shifted her grip on Vin. “On top of the fact that I don’t think I can say with any degree of sincerity that I believe you, it feels wrong. It’s too easy; there’s too many places for it to go astray.”

“There are probably considerably fewer moving parts than you’re assuming.” He smiled. “I can pretty much guarantee that if we get through this alive I’ll be able to clean your records.”

“At what cost?” Renee asked. “What organization would be pulling these strings and what guarantee do we have that they aren’t going to want to hold this favor over us?”

Alcor laughed. “There isn’t a nefarious organization. There’s really just the two of us, and you’re already up to your ears in my crap already.”

Renee cocked an eyebrow. “There’s just two of you and you’re confident that you can both make this go public and give us our lives back?”

“Well,” Alcor said, “it’s mostly just him, if I’m being entirely honest. But he’s pulled much bigger stunts than this before.”

Renee frowned. “Unless your friend is like the Alcor Virus or -”

“Wow,” Alcor interrupted. “That was a really good guess.”

“What?”

Alcor was grinning widely. “I didn’t think you’d figure that out until you two were talking.”

“What‽” Renee was looking around, as if she could find a more sensical universe hiding behind a tree.

“But you got it nigh instantaneously.”

She focused on him with a disbelieving stare. “Are you trying to tell me you are friends with the Alcor Virus?”

“You were the one who suggested it in the first place.”

“I was being facetious!” she cried. “Wait a minute, yesterday you said - did you program the Alcor Virus ???”

Alcor just grinned.

“Just to be clear,” she said, “we are referring to the program that took over the entire world's nuclear arsenal and threatened to use them if a series of increasingly asinine demands weren’t met?”

“Yeah,” Alcor said dreamily. “That was a good time. We managed to get global nuclear disarmament in under a day.”

“You’re telling me the goal of the Tretalelin Incident was disarmament?”

Alcor waggled Charlie’s good hand. “About eighty percent of it was about disarmament, twenty percent was just about fucking with the global powers.”

“Well, that worked out great in the long run.”

“We had a good two centuries of zero active nuclear arsenals. I would say that’s pretty decent for a day’s work.”

Renee shook her head. “So our lives are now in the metaphorical hands of one of the most infamously unpredictable and trollish entities ever. How far we’ve come.”

“Oh he won’t do anything to seriously fuck with you if I ask him not to.”

She glared. “Are you actually planning on asking him not to, though?”

Alcor put up a finger. “That’s a very good question.”

“That is not an answer.”

Alcor put Charlie’s palms up. “Where’s the fun in life if you don’t have a surprise every once in awhile?”

“I’m starting to get the feeling that we have very different ideas about what fun is.”

“I bet Vin would agree with me,” Alcor said. “He has a sense of humor.”

“Vin doesn’t take the future seriously because he doesn’t believe he’ll live to see it. Having him on your side here isn’t doing you any favors.”

“You’re just jealous that it’s two to one.”

She rolled her eyes. “I bet Charlie would be on my side.”

“Well, that’s just because Charlie’s a square.”

“I have no idea what that means.”

“That’s because you’re also a square.” Alcor stopped and pointed at a bit of the cliff. “Oh, hey, this looks pretty trampled. Wanna try ascending here?”

The trampled path was at a gentler incline than the cliff around it. It was still pretty steep, certainly steeper than Renee would like to scale while carrying Vin, but it looked manageable enough.

Renee nodded.

As they climbed Renee turned to Alcor. “I can’t think of anything that can rip out the soul of a living, non-consenting person.”

“I normally wouldn’t be able to. But I’ve done practically nothing these past few days but gather my energy up. I could do a lot right now, or at least I could before I went and did the thing.”

“Just how much energy are you absorbing?” Renee asked, looking at Alcor like he was some kind of large wild carnivore. “The amount of energy it would take to do that is absurd.”

“Do you know how much energy it takes to burn through the dreamscape of something with the cognitive strength of a selkie? It’s not a small number.”

“I suppose not.”

“It’s actually sort of lucky that I ended up wrecking zir hand,” Alcor said. “It takes a lot more energy to achieve a physical effect than it does to do things in the mindscape. If I hadn’t had so much of the energy I was channeling through zir push through zir physical body... Things could have been very bad.”

“Well, that sure is something.”

They picked their way up the cliff side.

“So,” Renee said. “If I’m to believe the words of our former captors, you’ve killed enough to gain a reputation for it.”

“I’m not sure why you would trust anything those people have said, but yes, I have,” Alcor said. “What about it?”

“Do you,” she paused. “Do you feel guilty about that?”

“Sometimes.”

Alcor reached the cliff’s top and extended Charlie’s uninjured hand down to Renee.

“Sometimes?” she said, taking it.

“Sometimes,” he repeated, helping her up. “Sometimes I’m not really in a place where I can feel guilt. Sometimes I feel fully justified in my actions. Sometimes the weight of everything I’ve done is completely immobilizing.”

“Do you feel guilty about it currently?”

“Some of it,” he said. “Most of it. Some of it feels pretty justified, though.”

“Like the magi just now?”

“Yes. That was definitely an unusual occurrence, but I’m not going to lose any metaphorical sleep over killing someone who was prepared to murder kids to use me as a science project,” Alcor said. “And although the circumstance surrounding the encounter was obviously unique, and the ending was rather extraordinary, there wasn’t anything too special about her, really.

“The way my existence works…” Alcor continued. “I see the worst side of people. I see a lot of the worst side of people. And even though I also deal with perfectly decent people, when you constantly see the extent of what horrors people are capable of… It’s a fight to keep believing that people are worth grieving over. That I should feel guilty at all. And sometimes, it’s a losing battle. And sometimes, it’s too hard and I just isolate myself.”

“So why do you care, then? Why bother fighting just so you can feel bad about what you’ve done?”

“Because,” Alcor said slowly, “I like people. Admittedly, not always in a healthy way, or a way that’s good for the people involved, but I pretty much always like people. The world would be awfully boring without them. And I want to be liked back, to deserve to be liked.”

“At least, sometimes you do?”

“Yeah. Sometimes I really don’t care what anyone else thinks of me. But I kind of hate that part of me.” He laughed without any humor whatsoever. “Of course, I also hate that I hate that, hate that I feel the need to get validation from others, hate how weak and pathetic that is. And then I hate that I feel that way and... I’m a bit of a mess, honestly.”

“Have you ever considered therapy?” Renee asked. “You sound like you could really use it.”

“Hah! Yeah that would go great. ‘Yes, hello, you can call me Tyrone, I’m a hundred times your age, good with kids, and I’ve almost certainly killed more people than you’ve ever met’.” He sighed. “Actually I have tried therapy before. It didn’t go great. There’s too much that I just can’t tell someone I don’t know that well, and at the end of the day, therapy is about changing what you can and accepting what’s left and I can’t do that. I can’t change what I am. I want to - god do I want to - but it’s too much a part of me. And I don’t want to accept it - I don’t want to be okay with doing terrible things because that’s when I do even worse things.”

“Just how many people have you killed here?”

“I haven’t exactly been running a tally. It’s not a small number though, I can tell you that much.” He paused. “Most of it was an accident though, for what little that’s worth.”

“How do you accidentally kill more people than you can count? Are you secretly a politician or something?”

“No, I didn’t poison a water supply or whatever. I was a dumb angry kid and I threw a hissy fit with more collateral damage than I realized was possible. I didn’t know my own strength at that point, and a whole lot of innocent people paid the price.”

“That sounds terrible. I’m sorry,” she said, unsure how else to respond.

“It was,” Alcor said, pointedly ignoring the part of him that found it hilarious.

The silence that settled over the two was like an especially itchy blanket on a hot summer night.

Renee focused on picking her way through the underbrush. The path was well trampled, making it much easier to traverse than the path leading to the encounter had been. She kind of wished it was harder, that it would demand more of her attention. As it was, it left her with little to do mentally other than contemplate everything she just learned, and she wasn’t sure she was ready to do that just yet. She just wished she had some sort of distraction.

As if on a cue, Alcor stopped in front of her.

“Well, this isn’t what I had in mind, but it will probably do,” he said.

Renee lifted herself up a little to see over Charlie’s frame. Ahead of them, scattered around the area’s sparse trees, was a pack of parked motorcycles. They looked relatively new, despite the layer of dirt that coated them. That was about all Renee could assess from them, as she knew about as much about motorcycles as she did how to feel about Tyrone, which was an almost impressive amount of ignorance to have about a relatively common object.

Renee slithered about the area, getting a more solid idea about what was there. The motorcycles were the only things she could see that were left behind. There was nothing she could see that could practically transport something her size.

“They really weren’t planning on taking Vin and me back, were they?” she asked.

“Doesn’t look like it, no.”

“He was right,” she said. “They were planning on killing us.”

“Probably. I could have told you some very dangerous things by now.”

Alcor walked up to one of the motorcycles. It was still on: apparently they didn’t expect the encounter to last very long. Which, Alcor supposed, wasn’t technically an inaccurate assumption.

Experimentally, he got on one. It was a little large for Charlie’s body, but not unworkably so.

"Think you can get on one of these?"

"You want me to ride a motorcycle," Renee said. "What with my zero legs and four meters of torso."

"I was more wondering if you would be physically capable of mounting one. I might be able to tow you," Alcor said. "I want to get back to the facility quickly; getting me out of Charlie as soon as possible is more important than ever."

"Can you even tow a motorcycle with another motorcycle?"

"I don't see why not," Alcor said.

"You can, so long as you have a towline," the Alcor Virus said in Alcor’s ear. "There should be one in the repair kit in the storage area under the seat."

Alcor shuffled through the storage area’s contents. It seemed to be mostly standardized stuff, but there was a small jar that contained a dead dragonfly and a centipede. The repair kit was easy to find; it was a neatly labeled box that took up a majority of the space.

"Is this it?" Alcor asked, pulling a strap out of the kit.

"You realize that you left the only camera for miles with the Magi, right? You could have just pulled out an irate alpaca and I wouldn't know so long as it was very quiet."

"Right. It's a thick strap with a Y shaped fork at about one third of its length, around 5 meters long."

"That's it. You're going to want to tie each end of the Y to your footpegs, and lead it around the handlebars and have Renee hold it with her left hand. She's going to be your breaks, which is fun because she’s only going to be able to use the handbrake."

"I think I understand how this works." Alcor started to tie the towline to the footpegs."You willing to try getting on one?"

"Sure. Why not. Have the naga ride a motorcycle," Renee said. "It’s hardly the most absurd thing to happen today."

She slithered up to the nearest bike, pushed her upper torso over the seat, and wrapped her lower torso around it. Her torso drooped along the sides of the bike, with her weight resting on the fenders, pushing them close to the tires. Vin rested somewhat awkwardly between her and the handlebar. She had never been more grateful her friend was so small.

“So how are we going to take this out of park without instantly tipping over?”

“There are stabilizers for low speed maneuvering,” the Alcor Virus said. “I can easily activate them.”

Alcor relayed the virus’ message as he hooked the strap around the front of the bike and looped it around the left handlebar a couple times.

“The handle on the right is your brake,” Alcor said, handing her a helmet. “If we’re going faster than you would like, feel free to use it. You want to keep the towline taunt if possible.”

“Shouldn’t there be two breaks?”

“The other one’s a foot brake.” Alcor mounted his bike. “We’ll go slowly, though; I’m sure we’ll only need the one.”

“This is absolutely going to end with us crashing into a tree, isn’t it?”

“Eh, there’s like, ten bikes here.” Alcor put a helmet on Charlie’s head and prepared to go. “We’ll get it eventually.”

Happy TAUniversery everyone!

The next (and final!) chapter only has ~3000 words written so far, and I’m thinking it’s going to be a longer chapter, so it’ll be awhile. Hopefully not too long though.

Previous Chapter - Next Chapter

#Transcendence AU #Haunted Fic #My shit #My Fic #Guys I really love Magi Briana.#Like #everytime I read her section I have to stop and take a moment to just appreciate her #Also I cried twice while writing this.

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mistleto-3 · 7 years

Text

Awakening: Part 6

When another crisis looms, Mikoto has to learn to navigate a world of Kings as a regular man.

AU in which Mikoto and Tatara survived the Colourless King incident.

Pairing: Mikoto/Tatara

2,010 words. CW for canon-typical violence, mentions of depression and other mental health issues.

Previous part | All parts | Next part

AO3 | Ko-Fi

“GET OUT HOODLUMS!”

The words were graffitied across the doors and windows of Bar Homra in red spray paint. It had been about a week since Homra had started to reform, and already the backlash had flared dramatically. Whispers had started to bubble between clansmen that Jungle might be behind getting the news out so quickly and orchestrating the harassment – they seemed to have an impossible amount of influence amongst the general population, and nobody would have been surprised if they had marked Bar Homra as a target. They just didn’t have any proof for it yet.

“Damn it, again?!” Rikio cried in frustration as he and a few other clansmen arrived at the bar and were greeted by the crude inscriptions. “Throwing stones, and graffiti; they broke the pipes so there’s no water; they put up papers with insults about Homra all around the city, and when they put an erotic photo on Yata-san’s back he almost became incapacitated…” He broke off his rant with a sigh of exasperation as Misaki shot him a glare.

Already, it had been deemed unsafe for Mikoto, Tatara and Anna to stay in their usual home above the bar, and Izumo had arranged for them to stay in a hotel for the time being until they could be sure it was safe. Mikoto had protested at first, but it was clear he was relieved – as much as everyone believed in Anna’s ability as a new-born King, they worried what might happen if they were attacked in the night. Besides, without running water, the place wasn’t really liveable anymore anyway.

“Kusanagi-san also said that Homra’s customers already received threats, those we socialise with flinch away. Already, reopening the bar would be…” Shouhei trailed off as he and the others entered the building, not wanting to speak the uncomfortable truth that everyone seemed to be thinking.

“Damn! If Mikoto-san was still King, they wouldn’t make fun of us like this!” Misaki caught himself as soon as the sentence had slipped out of his mouth, and he bit his tongue, glancing at Anna remorsefully, who was sitting by the bar eating a bowl of soup. The conversation moved on around Misaki before he had a chance to correct himself, and he hit his forehead with the palm of his hand with a click of his tongue, then went to take a seat beside Anna.

“S-sorry…” he mumbled, and Anna turned to look at him, her wide eyes expressionless.

When she didn’t respond, he continued: “I-I was just thinking… Mikoto-san was strong, extremely dangerous, and absolute. Everyone feared and admired him; following his back without wavering had been enough to make us happy. Within that space, I had always been able to do anything… but I never thought about what Mikoto-san was thinking. Totsuka-san said he nearly died because the burden was too much. So I don’t wish for Mikoto-san to still be King, I just miss how easy everything seemed back then...” He spoke quietly, despite the fact that nobody else was in earshot, and the words came out as a sort of garbled rush, as he couldn’t quite stem the flow of rambling once it had started.

“…Maybe things would not have turned out like this if it had been Mikoto,” Anna replied, equally quietly.

“Hey, Anna…” Misaki’s fists clenched remorsefully; it should have been obvious that she was worried about not living up to his legacy, and it was a bone-headed thing for him to say. “Is it okay if I tell you something a little pathetic?”

She nodded.

“I am… kinda stupid…” he confessed, and tried not to act too offended when Anna once again nodded.

“Ahh… because I’m stupid, I fail even if I give my best, and I don’t really understand other people. I probably don’t understand a thing about Mikoto-san either… I hate being left by people without me ever understanding them. Because I’m stupid, you have to tell me, or else I won’t understand, so Anna, if there is something you want to do or don’t want to do or want to have done then tell me, whenever you want!”

She smiled softly. “Okay.”

At that point, Tatara took a seat the opposite side of Anna, and Misaki’s head dropped, unsure of how much he’d overheard.

“What I think Misaki is trying to say is that he thinks you’re going to be a great King. But people outside of Homra haven’t quite gotten that message yet.”

“Y-yeah! I wanna help you, because you’re my King. It doesn’t matter if you’re not Mikoto-san – those assholes just don’t know you’re just as great as him. They underestimate you and they think you’re just a little girl, but they’re gonna learn the hard way!” Misaki suddenly seemed fired up, and he put his hand on Anna’s shoulder encouragingly, his eyes brimming with optimism.

Tatara smiled at his expression, then turned to Anna: “Kusanagi-san says he wants to speak to you upstairs.” Over the past week, Izumo and Tatara had led the operation to find out who was carrying out the assault on Homra, so Misaki suspected it had something to do with that. ��Yata-chan, you should probably come too – you’re Homra’s vanguard.”

Perked up by the inclusion, Misaki followed Tatara and Anna upstairs to the study above the bar where Izumo had been working. When the three of them arrived, they found Izumo staring intently at a laptop while Mikoto sat nearby, half paying attention. At the sound of the door opening, Izumo spun on his seat to face everyone. He waited for the door to close behind them before speaking.

“Based on the intel we’ve obtained, the culprits’ objective is this: a few groups who hold a grudge against Homra say they won’t allow our revival, and temporarily joined forces.”

“So it’s not Jungle?” Tatara asked.

“Nah, thankfully it’s smaller-scale than that. Even if these groups don’t go as far as dirtyin’ their hands, they’re tryin’ to make it seem it’s best if we give up like this, as it’d also help those groups. Their means of cornerin’ us ain’t bad; all things considered, it’s difficult for Homra to stay in Shizume City. They’ll show that nothin’ good will come from bein’ involved with us, and we’ll be isolated.”

Misaki’s face fell. “They really hate us, huh?”

“There are several organisations which we hold friendly relations with who told me that they’ll maintain those. After that, we have to settle things and regain our honour. Investigations are going on – I’ve been in touch with an informant who reckons she has some solid info, and she’s willin’ to talk to us, so you should go down there and see what she knows, Yata-chan.” As Izumo spoke, he pulled out his phone to send the address to Misaki.

“I won’t let ya down!” Misaki declared, then promptly hurried from the room.

“Once we’ve got all the info, we’ll start makin’ plans for a counterattack. Everyone on the same page?”

Mikoto and Tatara nodded in agreement, but Anna remained silent.

“Anna, are you alright?” Tatara asked.

“I want to think by myself for a little while,” she said quietly.

“Okay, don’t go far.”

Anna nodded, then got to her feet and headed for the door. Mikoto let out a sigh as she left, which was the first hint of emotion he’d shown all afternoon. The tension in his neck betrayed how much he hated her being out of sight after what had happened last week. Tatara lay his hand on top of Mikoto’s in an attempt to comfort him as they watched her leave.

True to her word, Anna didn’t wander far from the bar – barely a few streets before she reached a bridge where it was quiet and there weren’t many people around. There, she stopped to look out over the water, but she didn’t take in the sight.

Mikoto had been a King just by being there – people kept saying that under his leadership, nobody would have dared attack Homra. But she was just a little girl, not even a teenager yet – who would be intimidated by that?

“I am so small… Can I even do anything?” she found herself murmuring out loud.

But she was dragged from her thoughts by a shadow lingering too close behind her – the figure of a man. She turned to see who it was, but before she could get a good look at his face, his hands were on her wrists, unshakeable. She struggled against his grip, looking around frantically for aid, but the streets either side of her were empty, and the rough, sweaty skin of her assailant’s palm was over her mouth before she had a chance to cry for help. She continued to flail, kicking out at him, attempting to claw at his fingers, but she wasn’t strong enough to loosen his grip. It didn’t even occur to her to use her aura. It had never really been powerful enough for her to use it for fighting before, and in her panic, she barely remembered they existed at all.

Within seconds, her eyes were covered with strips of fabric and her wrists were bound, and she felt herself being carried and haphazardly dumped in the back of a vehicle, probably a van by the sounds of it. Her first reaction in her panic wasn’t to be afraid for herself though, oddly enough. Instead, she was more worried for her family. What would Mikoto think, that he hadn’t protected her? What would Tatara and Izumo and Rikio and Misaki do when they heard she’d been kidnapped for the second time in as many weeks? What would her clansmen think? Most of them already had their doubts, and there was no question that Mikoto would never have let this happen to him.

What kind of a King am I? she thought as the door slammed shut.

When Misaki arrived at the address he’d been given, he was greeted by a middle-aged woman with curly hair tied behind her back – a regular informant of Homra’s. What he hadn’t been expecting was that Masaomi and Yo were already there.

“Oh, Yata-chan, come in~!”

“Y-you guys! What are you doing here?!”

Yo looked sheepish. “W-what, you ask…”

Masaomi continued the sentence for him. “We heard there were some strange attacks on Homra…”

The woman chimed in: “These two came in here with extremely scary faces, you know. They said they wanted information on the groups cornering Homra. I already located a few of the meeting points those groups use, but Kusanagi-chan asked for those, so I can’t really tell these two~.” She paused and seized Masaomi by the arm. “Though Dewa is to my liking, so I hesitated a bit.”

“Ha?!” Yo seemed affronted by her stage-whispered confession.

“Hmm… going to people outside of Homra, huh? Are you saying it would be a pain to come back?” Misaki glanced between the two fellow clansmen with a seething frustration, and the two once again looked admonished, saying nothing in their own defence.

“Chitose,” Yata continued.

“What?”

“Earlier you said that Anna is not like Mikoto-san for you, right?”

Yo paused, seeming suspicious. “Yeah…?”

“For me it’s the same. It’s obvious… I mean, Anna isn’t Mikoto-san. Anna is Anna. The way I admire Mikoto-san, and how I wanted to work under his command, it’s not like that. But I want to support Anna and protect her with all of my strength.” He straightened up as he spoke, and there was a look of recognition in the faces of his friends, as though what he’d said had resonated with them.

However, before they could reply, a notification chimed from Misaki’s watch, and he excused himself to glance down at the screen. “Sorry, a message…”

Misaki didn’t recognise the number. He opened the photo attachment.

If the brat is important to you then get out of Shizume City. The caption went alongside a photograph of Anna, her wrists bound, her eyes covered, and the muzzle of a gun pressed to her temple.

#mikototsu #suoh mikoto #totsuka tatara #k project #k fanfic #fic: breathing #fic: awakening

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wolfie-dragon-rider · 7 years

Text

Blind Spots 12: Echoes of the Past

A/N: I have returned! It’s been 10 months after the previous update, I know. I’ve had a rough year. But I am determined to finish this. I have spend the past months thinking about where this story was going, and what the characters need to grow up. So I decided to add a bit more of an overarching plot to these one-shots. I realized there are... issues that won’t be solved in a couple days. So, even though things might look grim now, they will get better eventually.

I also want to start updating more reliably. At least once every two weeks. Feel free to send me angry messages if I don’t post enough :p. I hope people are still interested.

I am also making a masterpost to make it easier to navigate these stories on tumblr, and to add links to the story that inspired it all, Black as Night, that is only posted on fanfiction.net and AO3.

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"Okay gang, we all know why we're here, so let's get to it," Hiccup said as they landed their dragons in a clearing.

"We do?" Tuffnut asked loudly.

"I didn't hear anything," Ruffnut added. Hiccup shook his head as he carefully dismounted Toothless. He didn't want to slip on the unfamiliar ground. His bad leg was already aching, he didn't want to hurt it more.

"I told you guys three times already! Remember this morning? At the Academy?" he tried. Although he couldn't see their faces, he could sense them shaking their heads.

"I've got nothing," Tuffnut said, and Hiccup sighed.

"Right... Well, are you going to listen this time?" he asked, sighing in relief when they made affirmative noises.

"Johann told us yesterday that several islands he sailed past are damaged. Cliffs are collapsing, and he saw huge tunnels. The mining expedition to Granite Island saw tunnels and fissures as well. Something is tearing up nearby islands," Hiccup explained slowly. He wished he could see their faces to see if they were actually listening.

"Did you understand that?" he asked after a moment of silence, and Snotlout produced an angry sound.

"We get it! Big tunnels, islands disappearing, Johann telling crazy stories again! Now get to the point!" he yelled. A moment later there was a punching sound, and the boy groaned in pain.

"No need to yell, Snot," Astrid said, and Hiccup smiled, hoping she could see how grateful he was.

"Okay, the point is, if whatever is digging these tunnels comes to Berk, it could cause immense damage to the village. It could make houses collapse, destroy the water system, and more!" he said, hoping they could get to the scouting now.

"So... why is that a bad thing?" Ruffnut asked.

"Yeah, sounds like what we do, except BIG!" Tuffnut added gleefully, and not for the first time Hiccup wondered why he let these two join time and time again.

"Oh, for the love of... Do you want your house to fall into the sea?" he asked. Next to him, he sensed Astrid getting tense. He wished he could hold her hand, but they had agreed to not do that as much on Academy missions. It led to too much teasing.

"Well... maybe. If it's the will of Loki. This Great Destroyer sounds like a servant of Loki, and who are we to get in his way?" Tuffnut asked. Before Hiccup could come up with a response, Astrid spoke up.

"Didn't you used to say Hiccup was a prophet of Loki? Then why aren't you obeying him?"

"We decided we were wrong. He's too lame to be a prophet of the great trickster," Ruffnut chuckled. Hiccup felt his stump throb again at the mention of 'lame'. He knew the twins didn't mean it like that. The double meaning probably went way over their heads. But it still hurt.

"Fine, I'm not a prophet of Loki. But we're going to try and find this 'servant'. Don't you want to meet him?" he tried.

"Okay, but if the Destroyer treats us nicer than you do, we're totally joining him," Tuffnut said.

"It's a deal! Now let's go look at these tunnels before we lose all our daylight," he said, unsure of how much light they had left. To him it didn't matter, but the other riders were more concerned with the darkness.

They walked through the thick forest in relative silence for a while, searching for a tunnel. Hiccup's stump started to hurt more and more, and he wondered if the others noticed. If they did, they didn't say anything, just like they didn't joke about the constant tap-tap-tap of his cane as he checked for obstacles.

Just when the pain threatened to overwhelm him, Astrid took his hand in hers. At once his heart slowed down and the pain lessened. Weird how much of that pain was just in his head. They didn't need to say anything, his fingers signing to her that he'd be okay.

Suddenly Toothless growled loudly and ran ahead. The other dragons followed, causing the riders to shout and run as well. Hiccup and Astrid fell behind, and once again Hiccup cursed his inability to run without tripping or falling.

"Oh wow!" Snotlout shouted through the forest, and when Hiccup and Astrid caught up with them they heard the other riders talk enthusiastically as well.

"The destruction... it's real! Praise Loki!" Tuffnut said while Fishlegs started babbling about dragon statistics. Astrid started whispering in his ear.

"There's a huge cave on the side of the mountain. And we can see several tunnels even higher up. They're like twenty feet wide!" she said, barely audible over Toothless' loud growling.

"Easy, bud. It's probably just a dragon. No need to get worked up," Hiccup told the Night Fury while reaching out to pet him. Suddenly Toothless shook his hand off and sprang forward again, and Hiccup stumbled. Toothless had never done anything like that before.

"Let's go in, see if we can find what did this," he told the group, ignoring Fishlegs' worried rambling about how dangerous the dragon had to be. Astrid led him forward, towards the sound of Toothless' stomping and growling. The grass under his feet quickly made way for dirt and sand, and any sound they made produced echoes.

"Come on, bud. Settle down. Let's stay calm, okay?" Hiccup told his friend when they reached him again. This time the dragon accepted his petting, though Hiccup could feel the tension in his body.

"It's getting dark. Did anyone bring torches?" Astrid asked, and Fishlegs replied by digging in his bag. They paused for a moment, Hiccup listening to the sounds of Stormfly breathing, followed by the rustle of fire.

"Okay, Fish, stay in the middle with the torch. We'll cover you," Astrid said, before leading Hiccup forward again.

He couldn't see it, but Hiccup was fairly sure that he and Astrid were in front, with Fishlegs behind them. The twins giggled from beside the torchbearer, while Snotlout muttered unhappily in the rear. Their dragons surrounded them, silent except for the occasional grunt.

They walked for what felt like hours, though it was probably closer to five minutes. The twins occasionally awed over 'the power of Loki', while Snotlout muttered about getting lost in the maze of tunnels. Hiccup wasn't too worried. They had gone almost completely straight the entire time, so they should be able to find the exit easily.

"Fishlegs, what do you think made these tunnels?" Hiccup asked after a while.

"Uhm… circular digging, dirt seems to have been eaten rather than moved… Definitely something from the Boulder Class. Not a Gronkle. It must be a-" Fishlegs was suddenly interrupted by a loud roar from Toothless. Hiccup sensed the other riders turning around.

"Whispering Death…" Fishlegs whispered, and a second later Toothless jumped away from Hiccup and ran around the group, towards the way they came. Then another dragon roared.

"Okay, definitely a Whispering Death!" Fishlegs shouted.

"There! To the left! It's moving around us!" Astrid shouted as she released his hand to grab her axe.

"No, it's to the right!"

"Yeah, because you're looking the other way!"

"Wait, it's in front of us now!"

"Where did it go?"

The other riders were shouting as they moved their backs together. The dragons were growling softly, except for Toothless who was hissing while running around them.

"Stay calm!" Astrid shouted, while Hiccup gave up on trying to figure out what was going on. This was very different from the combat training he and Astrid had practiced.

Suddenly Fishlegs screamed loudly, and Hiccup felt something hot graze his leg. At the same time the sound of a tunnel collapse reached his ears. Toothless roared angrily.

"What the… What happened?"

"Are we dead?"

"Fool of an Ingerman! Set yourself on fire next time and rid us of your stupidity!"

"Shut up and focus! He wants us confused. We gotta move back the way we came. We need to get to light," Astrid said.

"But that thing just blocked the exit!"

"Stay calm. What happened?" Hiccup asked.

"We lost the light, and that… thing just blocked the way we came. It… It seems to have left now," Astrid said. Hiccup felt her search for his hand, and he grabbed hers. It was shaking slightly.

"Okay, that's not so bad," he said, trying to remain positive.

"Maybe not for you! We need light to see!" Snotlout shouted. Hiccup sighed deeply.

"Look, there must be other exits. We just have to find them. Stay together," he slowly said, trying not to show how nervous he was.

Toothless' roars died down, and he suddenly bumped against Hiccup's hand.

"There you are, bud. Why were you so angry?" he whispered while the other dragons talked with their riders.

"Maybe the dragons can give us light?" Ruffnut asked.

"Not for long. They can only breathe fire for a couple seconds, and there's nothing flammable," Fishlegs said.

"We can set Ruffnut on fire," Tuffnut said. The next moment a punching sound echoed through the cave.

Toothless perked up under Hiccup's hand, before producing a strange screech-like roar. The dragon repeated the roar several times while moving around them, before walking away from the group.

"I… I think Toothless wants us to follow him. Maybe he knows a way out. Come on, stay close together. Hold hands," he said. For once the other riders didn't complain. He could sense Snotlout briefly hesitate before grabbing Hiccup's other hand while muttering something he couldn't hear, but he didn't complain out loud.

Slowly the group followed Toothless. The Night Fury kept producing screeches and leading them through different tunnels. Thankfully the Whispering Death didn't seem interested in fighting them again.

"There! Light!" Fishlegs shouted after a few minutes, and the other riders sighed in relief when the ground made way for grass again.

While the gang took in heavy gulps of the fresh forest air Hiccup moved to Toothless.

"How'd you do that, bud?" he asked, and the dragon responded by moving back and forth between the cave and the outside, screeching as he went. It took a minute, but then it clicked.

"Seeing with sound, eh? Clever guy," he whispered.

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Waves crashed against the high cliffs as a cold wind blew heavy gray clouds across the sky. The cliffside seemed deserted, not even the nimblest wildlife daring to traverse the treacherous hills, caves and crevices. Silence reigned, except for the endless rhythmic splashing of the waves as they advanced and retreated.

As Astrid looked at the ocean attacking the mountainside, she was reminded of her mother's stories of Njordr, the god of the sea, and his wife Skathi, goddess of the mountains. Their marriage was not a happy one, arranged by the other gods. They fought often, mostly over whether their house should be at the shore or on the mountaintop.

Astrid wondered if the violent waves were the manifestation of yet another argument.

Stormfly squawked, alerting Astrid to a black shape resting on the cliffside. They landed a few dozen yards away, not wanting to frighten the boys who were so close to falling over the edge. Their dangerous location made Astrid anxious, and not for the first time she wondered if her boyfriend was slightly insane.

"Hey!" she shouted between the sounds of two waves, and Hiccup waved in her direction. Toothless perked up when Stormfly squawked loudly, and the two dragons ran off to play.

"Your dad is looking for you," Astrid said as she walked up to Hiccup, nervous about his legs dangling over the edge. One push and he'd fall a hundred feet into the rocks and water below. She wondered if he even realized how high it was.

"Did he say why?" Hiccup asked as she carefully lowered herself to sit next to him. She didn't dare to lean over the edge, a fear Hiccup evidently didn't share as he energetically swung his legs back and forth.

"He said he was worried about you. Apparently you left before dawn, and he hadn't seen you all day," she said, and Hiccup groaned.

"I'm fine. He shouldn't worry so much. I just want to be alone sometimes, you know?" he said, and she nodded. Hiccup was so distant lately, disappearing during the night and returning at odd hours. She supposed night and day didn't matter much when you're in permanent darkness, but that didn't mean he should just let everybody who cared about him worry. It was something he was doing more and more.

"I can sympathize. Sometimes I get sick of my mother too," she said as she put her arm around his shoulders and kissed his cheek, making him smile. Astrid wondered what he was thinking about. If she didn't know better she might have thought he was admiring the view. The wild water, reflecting sunlight piercing the gray clouds, created an amazing image, making her feel small as she was confronted with the incredible power of the gods. But his blindfold disproved that possibility. It didn't matter to Hiccup if it was sunny or cloudy, or if the waves were calm or restless.

They sat in comfortable silence for a while, no words needed as they rested at the end of the world.

"So what do you do out here all day?" she eventually asked. Hiccup pulled himself back from the cliff and stood up, retrieving his cane lying in the grass a few feet away. She followed, curious.

"Remember how Toothless got us out of that cave a few weeks ago? I figured out how he did it. He used sound to sense where obstacles were. Like… Wait, let me show you," he said as he walked away from the cliff towards the mountain, the waves making him hard to hear.

Hiccup started tapping the ground as he usually did when he walked, but now he also moved the other end of the cane to hit his knife in every swing, creating melodic sounds. Unsure of what he was doing, Astrid followed close behind, keeping an eye on where Hiccup walked to make sure he wouldn't fall down a fissure or something.

"Do you hear it? The difference?" he eagerly asked as he walked past a cave opening, hitting his knife all the while.

"Just the sound of metal on metal," she said, frowning.

"Don't listen to the initial sound. Listen to the echo. Can you hear it? There's a different echo based on my surroundings!" he said. But no matter how hard she strained her ears, she couldn't hear the difference.

"I can't… I'm not hearing it," she said, and Hiccup looked a bit dejected, before raising his head and hitting the knife even harder as he walked back and forth between the inside and outside of the cave. Eventually she sort of heard a difference between the cave and the open field, but it was so subtle that she barely noticed.

"Sort of? It's hard to hear, especially with the waves crashing," she eventually said, and Hiccup shrugged.

"I use the waves here to time it. They're regular and repetitive, so I use them to count how long it takes for an echo to return. The further away an obstacle is, the longer the echo takes," Hiccup explained, and Astrid wasn't really sure what to say. His hearing was much sharper than hers, but even then it seemed so subtle and vague that it was probably useless. Not to mention the fact that the continuous ringing sounds made her head hurt.

"And… you can use this to navigate?" she hesitantly asked, feeling very doubtful of this technique.

"I think so! Like, I can tell whether I'm in the cave or not, without having to feel the walls. And I think I can tell where the cave's mouth is if I'm in it. I also noticed that trees sound different from stone, but I have to practice that more," he said, and she sighed. Hiccup had a tendency to become overly enthusiastic of things that turned out to be useless, as his long list of abandoned inventions showed. Astrid couldn't help but think this was another one of those. Though usually he wouldn't spend this much time on a failing project.

"So if I dumped you in the forest right now, could you use it to find your way back without running into anything? Can you use it to navigate the village?" she asked, and Hiccup frowned.

"Uh… I don't think so… but maybe with more practice I can sort of figure out where trees are…" he said, and she sighed deeply. There was more going on here than him just trying out something cool. He was avoiding everyone, and this seemed to be just an excuse.

"Hiccup… What are you doing out here? And don't say practicing this… trick," she added when he opened his mouth. "Why are you really out here? What's wrong?" she softly asked, putting her hand on his shoulder. He flinched away, not at all what she had expected.

"What's wrong, what's wrong?! That's what everybody asks! All day, every day!" Hiccup shouted, and the ferocity of his words made Astrid take a step back as the sound echoed through the cave. "What's wrong, are you hurt, can I help you, are you lost, are you sure you should do that, you're blind after all!" he continued in a sarcastic childlike tone.

"And I'm just… I'm so sick of it. Of everyone treating me like I'm made of glass, like I'm going to shatter at the tiniest struggle, like I can't do anything by myself. And I just… I want to get away from that. Out here it's quiet and there's no one to worry about me and tell me I shouldn't be doing something because I'm too damn weak to walk through the village by myself! Like… Even at the Dragon Academy everyone treats me like that. Don't think I don't notice it. You're all going out of your way to make it easier for me. And I don't want that. Just treat me like one of your own," he said as he turned away from her, moving back towards the shore.

"Hiccup… I don't want that. You are special and different, whether you like it or not. And… I thought you liked that. Liked having people notice you and care about you. Aren't you happy that people are treating you nicely now?" she asked as she walked up behind him, reaching out to take his hand in hers. He reluctantly returned her grasp, and his fingers showed signs of pain and frustration.

"I… I was at first. But… not like this. I don't want pity. I don't want them to keep moving the goalposts and have this stupid… fake sympathy and… acting like I'm so pathetic that they're impressed if I can walk through the village by myself. I want to be part of Berk, but everyone seems determined to make it clear that I'm not like them. Not like you," he slowly said, and she sighed.

"I don't think it's fake. They're just worried. They care. And I'm sorry if I made you feel like that. You know I just want you to be safe, right? I worry. It's hard to forget the times when you were in danger, when you lost your eyes, lost your leg. It's… I don't want you to be in pain. I caused you enough pain," she said, trying to pour her love into those words and explain how much he meant to her.

"I know. I know that I am more vulnerable, but it's… You're strong. Everybody knows you're strong. No one doubts that. But me… No one thinks I'm strong. Even though I feel like I'm stronger or smarter or more capable than they think. No one looks at that. They just… They see Hiccup the Blind, they don't see… me," he said, and she put her other arm around him, pulling his back against her chest.

"I think you're strong. In my mind you're the strongest person on the island. But Hiccup, if you want everyone else to see that and change their behavior, you should show them," she said, and he bowed his head and hunched his back, making him look even smaller in her arms. She gently pulled him down to a sitting position, sitting down beside him, her arms still around his shoulder.

"Can't you talk to them for me?" he softly asked, and she was overcome by a wave of frustration. Why couldn't he see how strong he really was? Why was his confidence so low? Why did she have to hold his hand for everything?!

"No," she said, trying to make it clear that this was not up to discussion. "You're gonna have to do it yourself. I can't help you with everything, and if you want them to respect you, you're gonna have to show them you're worthy of respect. And sending your girlfriend to do it in your place because you're too scared won't do that. They'll say you won't be the real chief, that you're my puppet who is easily manipulated. You're the one who needs to show them they're wrong," Astrid said, and Hiccup flinched in her arms, clearly hurt. A spike of guilt hit her, but she knew he needed to hear this. Hiccup remained silent for a long time.

She suddenly noticed his braids were undone again. His irregular schedule meant that sometimes she didn't have the opportunity to braid him for days at a time. She wondered if it affected him, to have a reminder that she loved him, even when she wasn't there. Astrid decided not to risk it, and moved her hands to add a tiny braid, hoping her soft motions would calm him as he thought.

"Wouldn't they be right? About me being a puppet?" He eventually asked softly, and she could hear so much… defeat in his voice. Before she could answer, he continued. "It's complicated, okay? I just feel so… split. Like, I want to get away but I also want company, and I want them to help me but I also don't want that, and it's… I'm so nervous all the time, and I don't want to anger people or make them fight or… I don't know," he stuttered, and she pulled him a little tighter against her before starting on another braid, hoping her presence would ground him and prevent a dark day.

"You wouldn't be a puppet. You're smart and capable, but just… too shy and humble. But Hiccup… Here's the thing. I can't understand what you're going through, what you're feeling. I can try, but I don't think I can ever understand what it's like to be blind and crip- without a leg, and… I want to help. But I never know quite how. So… I'm glad you're telling me this, and I won't argue with you or tell you that your echo plan is stupid or wrong or something. But you can't run from all these problems forever," she said, stopping for a moment to collect her thoughts as she finished the braid. She had to say this right.

"I don't think this is the way. This echo thing, it's… I don't think it's going to be useful. There are better things you could do with your time. You could do combat training, or spend more time at the Academy, or learn about chiefing with your dad. Spend time interacting with people. That would earn the villagers' respect more than randomly disappearing without telling anyone," she finished. Hiccup was silent for a while, and she added a third braid as she leaned against him, trying to make him feel safe.

"I don't think it's useless. It needs a lot of practice, but I think I can really do great things with this. It'll be useful when I'm out exploring, or in an unfamiliar location, or inside a cave or something," he eventually said, and she stopped braiding for a moment to squeeze his hand.

"I won't say you have to do this or that. You know what being blind is like, and I trust you to know what's most useful. Just… think about what I said. It's great that you're trying to become so independent and strong on your own, but… don't forget about me and the others, or how it makes you look, okay?" she said, and he nodded.

"Okay," he whispered, and she kissed his cheek in reply before tying up the third braid.

"I have to go back now. Look… I won't tell your dad I found you, or where you were. If you want you can stay here for a while. But remember he cares about you. Don't make him worry too much," Astrid said as she stood up and walked back to the cliffside where the dragons were playing.

"Come on, Stormfly, we're going back," she called out to the Nadder, who ran over to her. Toothless followed, and when he noticed his rider was distressed the dragon immediately moved to lick and comfort him.

"Don't stay out too late. It's nearly dinnertime already!" Astrid said as she mounted Stormfly, and Hiccup nodded.

"Thanks for finding me. And listening. I love you, Astrid," he said as he petted Toothless, and she smiled.

"Anytime, Hiccup. I love you too," she called back, and a second later Stormfly flew off. The echoes of Hiccup once again hitting his knife with his cane followed her, and she couldn't help but wonder if he'd rather listen to echoes than to her.

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Hiccup tiptoed into the house, hoping he could slip into bed without his father noticing. Normally he'd have flown up to his window and climbed in through there to avoid the creaking stairs. But Toothless had been restless when they neared Berk, and insisted they land earlier, before running off when his rider dismounted. Hiccup thought it was odd, but he was too tired to question it. Maybe Toothless wanted to visit Stormfly or nap outside.

"There you are! Where have you been?" his father's booming voice put an end to any hope of a silent entry. Hiccup cursed softly before turning to the dinner table where Stoick must be sitting. Damn the blindness making it impossible to sneak.

"Oh, you know, here and there, flying… I'm really tired though, so I think I'm gonna go to bed," Hiccup said before faking a yawn, desperately hoping his dad wouldn't start the 'responsibility' speech again.

"Son," the tone of that single word made it clear that the gods still hated him. "We were supposed to go inspect the village together today. But instead you go out flying. Again. Like every day for the past two weeks," Stoick continued, disappointment dripping from every word. Hiccup felt his head drop and his shoulders slouch. He felt small.

"Sorry, Dad. It's just… I've been working on something important with Toothless, and I needed silence for that, and the village, well…" he hoped a joke would help, but then he remembered who he was talking to. Stoick didn't laugh.

"And you don't think inspecting the village is important? You're gonna be chief one day, Hiccup. Act like it. Because frankly I don't think you're taking it seriously at all. You seem to treat it like a joke," Stoick boomed, making Hiccup take a step back. He didn't need to see to know his father's expression right now.

Hiccup wished he could explain that becoming chief was anything but a joke to him. That the prospect terrified him. That he wasn't ready, that he didn't think he would ever be ready. He couldn't even imagine being responsible for an entire village. If they didn't even trust him to walk without hurting himself, then how could they ever trust him to lead the through war or famine?

But if he couldn't explain that to Astrid, couldn't even explain it to himself… Then how could he explain it to his very terrifying father?

So instead of excuses or explanations he decided to take the path of least resistance.

"I'm sorry," he said softly. The apology was followed by a heavy silence, like Stoick hadn't expected that at all.

Eventually his father just sighed deeply. "Very well. Now you're coming with me. No excuses, no early bedtime. It's not even sundown yet. I found something… disturbing during my inspection that I want you to take a look at," he said, and Hiccup decided not to argue. So he just nodded and followed his father's loud footsteps out of the house.

Stoick didn't speak while they walked, and Hiccup was glad that at least he didn't get a longer lecture. Though maybe he'd get it after this trip.

He frowned when he noticed that they were walking towards the outskirts of the village. From what his father said earlier Hiccup had expected them to visit one of the shopkeepers or seamen with a broken tool he had to fix, or a villager whose dragon was sick. But out here was nothing but yak farms and fields of grain.

"Is something wrong with the crops?" he asked, breaking the awkward silence. If there was a fungus or locust infestation it could be disastrous for the harvest.

"Not the crops as such. More… the ground under the crops," Stoick said without slowing down. Suddenly Hiccup's ears picked up on another sound disrupting the wind blowing through the grain. Growling.

"Toothless?" Hiccup asked when he recognized the voice, and he ran ahead to find his friend. The dragon sounded angry.

He only managed to run for a few seconds before he tripped on a root. But before he hit the ground he was yanked back by something grabbing his vest.

"Easy son. Be careful, you nearly fell into what I wanted to show you," Stoick said as he lowered Hiccup back to solid ground. Frowning, Hiccup took his cane and felt in front of him, searching for the thing.

He couldn't find anything. Toothless kept growling, now from right beside him.

"Uh… What?" he asked, feeling very confused.

"It's a hole, Hiccup. A tunnel just like the ones Johann mentioned. The ones you found on Granite Island. Not even half a mile from the village," Stoick explained.

"Okay, that's not good," he said, trying not to show his shock. The Whispering Death was on Berk, and already burrowing through the nearby farms.

"Indeed. That's why you should be on Berk, son. I need you and the Dragon Academy to get rid of this dragon. I know we don't hunt them anymore, but we can't allow it to destroy our home," Stoick said, by now barely audible over Toothless' growls. Hiccup could sense the dragon leaning into the hole.

"Okay, but how are we supposed to do that? The last time we tried to fight it it nearly killed us!" Hiccup said, gesturing wildly at the hole with his cane.

"You're the expert, you figure it out. That's part of being chief. Part of being a Viking," his father said clearly, and Hiccup knew there was no point in arguing.

"Fine, let me just get the other riders," he said, reaching out to Toothless. But the moment before he found the saddle there was a rustle beneath them, making the ground shake. Toothless roared loudly, pushing Hiccup's hand away and jumping into the hole. The sudden movement combined with the crumbling ground made Hiccup lose his balance, and before he knew it he was falling a disturbingly deep distance. A moment later he hit the ground hard.

"Toothless?" he groaned as he tried to get back to his feet. Thankfully he didn't seem to have broken anything. But why wasn't Toothless licking him, making sure he was alright?"

"Hiccup! Are you okay?!" Stoick shouted. The voice sounded distorted when the walls around Hiccup caused echoes.

"I'm… I'm fine. But Toothless is gone," he shouted back.

"Stay there! I'm getting Astrid and the other riders! We'll get you out of there!" his father shouted. The words were followed by the sound of fading footsteps.

"Right… The gods still hate me. At least I know that," Hiccup muttered before feeling around. He quickly found his cane. At least that had fallen into the hole with him. He always felt lost without it. Not that he didn't feel lost now. He was in some unknown maze of tunnels, Odin only knew how big it was, and his seeing dragon seemed to have run off. Hiccup didn't really dare to call out. The Whispering Death was nearby, after all.

So he decided to, for once, follow his dad's instructions and sit tight. With a sigh he sat down against the nearest wall and began to count the seconds.

He got to fifty-three when a screech echoed through the tunnels, making him jump to his feet. A loud roar followed, and Hiccup recognized Toothless' voice. Echoes of stomping, running, and growling reached his ears.

Toothless must be fighting this dragon. Hiccup couldn't sit by and let his friend deal with it alone! So, knowing his dad would yell at him later for it, he walked in the direction of the sounds.

Using the cane to feel the walls was slow going. The sounds were becoming more muffled, like the dragons were moving away from him. Deciding he could risk it, Hiccup began to tap his knife with the cane as quietly as he could while still producing echoes.

At once the room layout became clearer. There was a wall right in front of him, and empty space to the left, the same direction as the sounds came from. Hiccup followed the tunnel, occasionally making more echoes whenever he reached a fork. The dragon sounds were getting closer, and now Hiccup could hear plasma blasts as well, followed by the sounds of falling rubble.

Soon after he found several caved-in tunnels. Was Toothless trying to trap the Whispering Death? Hiccup kept walking slowly as the sounds died down. Was the battle over? Did Toothless trap or kill it?

Without warning the wall next to Hiccup exploded as something burst through. Hiccup fell to his feet, raising his cane in a desperate attempt to defend himself from the dragon. He could hear razor-sharp teeth spinning in the mouth, and he was sure he would die any moment now.

Then a loud roar, louder than he had ever heard Toothless before echoed through the cave. The Whispering Death immediately retreated. Toothless ran after it, apparently not even checking on Hiccup.

"Come on, bud! Let me help you! You don't have to do this alone!" he called, before starting to chase the Night Fury. The rest of the tunnel was fairly straight, and Hiccup only stumbled a few times before he felt the dirt under him make way for grass. The sounds of snapping branches and stomping paws filled the air as Toothless chased the Whispering Death.

"Stop! If you let me ride we can fight it together! What is wrong?" Hiccup shouted, running as fast as he could. He quickly stopped tapping the ground with his cane, feeling for trees with outstretched arms instead.

"Hiccup!" Astrid's voice called out from somewhere above him.

"Astrid! Toothless is chasing the Whispering Death! He won't let me help!" he shouted back, hoping she could hear him over Toothless' running just ahead of him. Suddenly the trees and bushes disappeared. He must have entered a clearing.

"Look out!" Astrid screamed. Hiccup instinctively raised his cane into a defensive position without slowing down, thinking the Whispering Death must be attacking.

Hiccup wasn't proud of the high-pitched scream that escaped his mouth when the ground under his feet suddenly disappeared and he was falling.

"HELP! TOOTHLESS!" he screamed. If he hit the ground at this speed he would be dead, no doubt about it. Somewhere behind him he heard Astrid urge Stormfly to catch him, and the other riders were shouting, but they were all too far away.

Just when he said his final prayers a growl rang out right next to him. Hiccup did not hesitate, reaching out to grab the saddle and putting his foot in the pedal.

"URP!" Toothless roared, Hiccup already on it as he set the fin to the 'up' position.

"Thanks, bud. Thanks. Now let's show that dragon he's not welcome here," he said, catching his breath when they roughly levelled out. Toothless growled in agreement, before giving him flying commands. Astrid was rallying the other riders, and they seemed to be surrounding the Whispering Death.

Toothless didn't hesitate in his commands and actions, circling around while the other riders pinned down the enemy. Suddenly he pounced, diving down and landing on top of the Whispering Death. Then the Night Fury roared and roared and roared, loud enough to make Hiccup's ears hurt.

Just when Hiccup was sure that Toothless would kill it, his friend jumped off. The Whispering Death shuddered, making a soft chirping sound, before flying off in the direction of the cliff and the sea beyond it.

"Should we chase it?" Astrid asked, landing next to him. Hiccup shook his head.

"I think Toothless scared it enough. It probably learned that there's no place for him here," he said, trying not to show how shaken he was as the other riders landed.

"Are you alright?" You… I was scared there, when you fell," she softly said. He nodded, but before he could answer fully the other riders landed.

"Dude, that was awesome! You just jumped off the cliff to get on Toothless!" Tuffnut shouted.

"I didn't mean to-" he said, before being interrupted.

"Yeah, that was badass! But also stupid. If we did something like that, you'd yell at us. Though we're not as close with Barf and Belch as you are with Toothless. You guys like, read each other's minds!" Ruffnut said. Hiccup blushed at their praise, when he recognized the sound of another dragon. A Thunderdrum.

"He should yell at you. And I'm not too happy about that stunt either. Didn't I tell you to wait in that cave?" Stoick boomed, and any pride Hiccup had felt melted away.

"I'm sorry, Dad. But Toothless was fighting the Whispering Death, and I couldn't abandon him, could I?" he said softly, feeling very small.

"Maybe, but that's no reason to run off a cliff! You… You could have died! That was very irresponsible," his father shouted. Hiccup could sense the other riders moving back. He didn't blame them. But he still listened for Astrid, hoping for help from her. Suddenly he remembered her words.

"No. You're gonna have to show them your strength yourself. I can't help you with everything."

He knew she was right, and that this was a good opportunity for that. He tried to gather his courage, to tell his father about the echolocation and that he found his own way out. That he could defend himself with his cane, that he had faith in Toothless to catch him, and that he was stronger than Stoick thought.

But then he heard his dad sigh, and the disappointment he heard there made all his courage disappear. What was the point anyway?

"I… I'm sorry," he mumbled, lowering his head. Stoick sighed again.

"It's alright. But don't do anything like that again. And tomorrow you're not going flying. We're going to inspect the village together," he said, and Hiccup just nodded, before following Thornado when he flew off. He passed Astrid, and he could almost feel her disappointment. He didn't know what to say, and then the moment passed. Hiccup felt her angry gaze on him as he flew away.

#blind spots #httyd fanfiction #fanfic #hiccup #astrid #hiccstrid #blindness #return from hiatus

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