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c0nfessions-of-a-writing-freak · 1 year

Text

Winner Winner, Stormfly's Dinner

Pairing: Hiccup 'Horrendous’ Haddock III x fem!oc

Word count: 6.7k

Hiiii I was wondering if you could write a fic about the dragon races? I’ve seen your fic about the Lightfury stealing a dragon rider and really enjoyed it and I loved the dynamic the Lightfury had with your oc, Toothless and Hiccup even tho she doesn’t seem to like him too much. I was hoping you could incorporate that dynamic into an x reader fic? Also, you're free to use Stardust as the name of the Lightfury since I thought it was so cute. Since I know it probably wouldn’t fit into your original story I thought it might be easier to do it as something completely new with similar characters if that’s alright? Love your work and can’t wait to see more! From Anonymous

Hiii i was wondering if u could do something like a dragon racing fic with the sheep since I thought that might be fun. I’ve seen most people have requested Hiccup so I’m just going to request him as well since that’ll be fun and easy for you. So maybe like just segments where the reader is singled out with each rider so she can have some fun banter or moments with them and then maybe she gets the black sheep and wins the whole thing and hiccup is super proud of her <33333 From Anonymous

(Y/N): Your name

(H/C): Hair colour

(D/N): Dragon name

A/N:

A loud horn rang out as (Y/N) stepped into the old dragon training arena, her Lightfury–Stardust–following behind her. The noise signalled the nearing of the annual dragon race, letting those know to start making their way over soon. The stands were empty but the pit of the arena was full of dragon riders and their dragons, applying paint to the wings and heads of their dragons.

"Running a bit late now, are we?" Astrid called out as (Y/N) passed her. She wore a smug grin on her face, coloured orange and blue just like Stormfly behind her. Stormyfly perked up at the sight of (Y/N) and Stardust, trying to take a few steps towards the pair to greet them. At the sound of her talons scraping along the stone floor, Stardust's head snapped towards her, and a flash of teeth and a wrinkle of her nose deterred Stormfly from getting too much close. (Y/N) placed a hand on Stardust's head, lightly pushing it in the direction of where a mass of darkness sat patiently and with his chest puffed out slightly as its one-legged rider smeared paint across his head. At the sight of the other fury, Stardust went gracefully over without a second question, leaving (Y/N) to fend for herself.

"Hi, Stormfly. Looking good," (Y/N)'s voice rose as she ran her hands under the Deadly Nadder's chin, earning an elated hum from the beast. A bubble of joy rose from the pit of (Y/N)'s stomach to her chest, lighting her up until her soft laughter rang out around the arena. Astrid soon joined in on the laughter as she followed after her wayward dragon. "You ready for today, Astrid? Been feeding Stormyfly as much chicken as possible?"

At the mention of chicken, Stormfly lit up. Rising from (Y/N)'s grip and stomping her feet lightly in excitement. Astrid raised both her hands to try to calm the Deadly Nadder down, shooting (Y/N) a feigned annoyed glare. "We've definitely been getting some extra practice in, though I wouldn't say… you know what is needed to beat all these knuckleheads. What about you? Got any secret flights in with Stardust in preparation for today?"

(Y/N) ticked her head to the side, the corners of her lips lifting. Her body language showed indifference, but Astrid could tell something was going on that (Y/N) wasn't telling her. "Stardust and I will do just fine without any extra help. We always have a few tricks up our sleeves."

"We'll see about that once we get in the air," Astrid comments as she leads Stormfly back to her painting station. She dabbed a small sponge into the bowl filled with orange paint before lifting her arm to run it along Stormfly's outstretching wing, leaving a trail of paint behind that she would later go over to make the colour brighter and the lines steadier. "I took the liberty of setting up your station near Hiccup's. I hope the colours are to your liking."

"I'm sure whatever you picked out will make Stardust and I stand out amongst the rest of you," (Y/N) called over her shoulder with a laugh ringing through her words, choosing to ignore any undertones of teasing that she could find in Astrid's voice. (Y/N)'s eyes now landed on a new target. A target that she wouldn't be able to reach as quickly as she would have hoped to.

"(Y/N), I need your honest opinion–well, not too honest, or I might cry–about my battle paint!" Tuffnut called out as he saw the (H/C) haired girl walking past. As (Y/N) turned to take in the mix of colours on his face, she jumped back at the closeness of the boy. Tuffnutt had run up to her and was standing with his face pushed outwards with his eyes widened. On it was a yellow skull with the rest of his face blacked out. "Is it too much? Too little? I think I should add more paint but Ruff disagrees."

"It's, uh, very you," (Y/N) said slowly, her palms extended in front of her and faced up as she acknowledged the thought-out design. (Y/N) took half a second to think out her answer before she was closing a fist and lightly punching Tuffnut in the shoulder with it, "You know, I think you should go with your heart. If you think you should add more, then by all means, add more."

Tuffnut stared at her for a few seconds before he threw both hands into the air, "This is one of the many reasons you are my favourite," He exclaimed with a large grin overtaking his feature before he was spinning around and walked back towards his sister, arms still in the air. "You hear that, Ruff? (Y/N) thinks I'm brilliant!"

A smile displayed itself on (Y/N)'s face as she watched Tuffnut happily run back over to his paint station, his half of Barf and Belch looming over as he watched Tuffnut happily smear more paint on his face. The groan that rang out did little to wipe the smile off (Y/N)'s face as she turned to see Ruffnut glaring at her with her arms crossed. "Great, now I'm going to have to deal with the aftermath of all that."

"If it makes you feel any better Ruff, you get to dunk water on his head later. Maybe even repeatedly," (Y/N)'s words got an evil grin stretched across Ruffnut's face as she rubbed her two hands together, shooting her twin brother a sideways glance as she imagines the future that awaited for her.

(Y/N) didn't stick around for too much longer after that since she was losing time. Everyone else had finished painting at least themselves or their dragons and were now either going in for more details or working on whatever they hadn't done yet while she was still yet to even see the colour of her paint. Her hope for getting started didn't stay around for long as a short Viking called out to get her attention.

"Oi, (Y/N)," Snotlout yelled as he waved a large hand at her. Hookfang stood behind his dragon rider, sporting some red and yellow paint along his wings and a little bit on his jaw and cheeks. (Y/N) quickly walked over to greet the boy, not one for ignoring anyone. "You mind helping do my face? I would use the mirror normally, but the twins shattered it earlier while trying to call dibs on it."

"Are you sure you weren't in on the shattering of said mirror?" (Y/N) questioned with a grin as she came to a stop in front of Snotlout. The shorter boy's shoulders dropped as he tried to fight to string a sentence together to defend his honour. It only ended up causing a laugh to rise from (Y/N). "I was kidding, Snotlout. I totally believe it was just those two causing their normal ruckus."

"Good, because you know I would never stoop so low to join in or whatever it is those two get up to," Snotlout puffed out his chest as he said this, earning another huffed-out laugh from (Y/N) at his actions. "Now, about that face paint?"

The laughter slowly died down as the question was brought up for a second time. One of (Y/N)'s arms was raised as she wrapped it around the forearm of her other arm. Trying to let the boy off gently, she spoke softly, "I don't know, Snotlout. I haven't even started on Stardust or my own paint, so I don't think I have the time."

"It will only take a second, I promise," Snoutlout said as he tried to push the bowl of paint into (Y/N)'s hands.

But at the sound of a second horn (Y/N) shook her head and pushed the paint away from herself and back to Snoutlouts chest. "I'm sorry, Snoutlout, but I don't have time. How about if I finish myself and Stardust and still have time afterwards, I'll come back over and help y

The offer was a good one, and the best (Y/N) would be able to give as she could already hear the first group of Vikings arrive early for the race later. Snotlout seemed to ponder the offer, taking his time in weighing it out in his head before giving a single nod of his head. "But I want you coming straight back here once your done. No faffing around with Hiccup afterwards."

One of (Y/N)'s hands shot up to her forehead in a salute as she looked down at Snotlout. "Hearing you loud and clear, soldier."

(Y/N) could hear the huffing of Hookfang, along with some muttering from Snotlout, as she turned away from the flaming duo and tried, once more to get to her desired destination. This time she thought she'd finally be able to. She had gotten through nearly all the dragon riders, and Fishlegs wasn't one to socialise much before a big race, having some pre-race ritual he had to forgo. But as she started walking once more, a Gronckle-loving dragon rider attempted to get her attention.

"Ooh (Y/N)! (Y/N)," He called as he left Meatlug behind, the Gronckle happily snacking on some rocks. Fishlegs held a card in his hand as he made his way over to the (H/C) haired girl, a nervous grin on his face as he came over. (Y/N) came to a stop even though she was a little annoyed at being stopped for the fourth time. She tried to hide that annoyance as Fishlegs hadn't done anything wrong. "I stayed up late last night trying to finish this new card I made for Lightfury's. I thought we needed a newer version since we've found out so much more about Stardust and her species."

A smile fought its way onto (Y/N)'s face as she saw the carefully drawn Lightfury on the small trading card. (Y/N)'s eyes widened as she swore she could see every detail on the small picture that replicated her very own dragon. "Wow, Fishlegs, I don't know what to say. It looks amazing."

"This one's for you," Fishlegs quickly said, placing the card in (Y/N)'s hand before she could decline. "And before you say anything, I have a second one at home. I made this one just for you since I know you love everything and anything dragon related."

"Thanks, Fishlegs. I don't even know what to say," (Y/N) grinned as she stared at the small card before delicately placing it in a small pouch she had attached to her belt so it wouldn't get ruined while she was racing. As she thought about the race, she realised how much time she lost between getting to the arena late and having to talk to all the different dragon riders. "Good luck with the race, yeah?"

"I'll see you out there," Fishlegs concluded as they both turned away from each other.

This time, (Y/N) was finally able to get to where she needed to be.

"Hi, Hiccup," (Y/N) said as she trailed her fingers along the brunette's arm. The taller boy looked up at (Y/N), a soft smile on his face as he watched the girl dance around him. "And hi, Toothless. Red is such a good colour on you."

A gargling noise quickly erupted from Toothless' throat in his way of saying hello. Stardust was wrapped around the other dragon, head resting under his chin as she was careful not to smudge any of the red paint, mainly because she didn't want any of it getting onto her scales.

Before (Y/N) could take another step forward, she felt two arms wrap around her waist and pull her backwards. As she fell back into Hiccup's chest, a bubble of a laugh rose from her chest as she felt him pull her down to sit on his lap as he rested his head on her shoulder. At the action, Stardust let out a small growl. Her nose scrunched up as she threatened to take a step forward, the gentle coaxing from, Toothless stopping her from doing so.

“I was wondering when you were finally going to make your way over here,” Hiccup said as he rocked the both of them back, completely ignoring Stardust’s warning as he was already used to the untrusting behaviour on her part. He was sure he was slowly starting to get a breakthrough with the dragon. Having Toothless around certainly helped with that. “Once Stardust over there came bounding over, I knew it was only a matter of time before you would follow. I didn’t know it would take that long though.”

“All the other dragon riders seemed to want to keep me as far away and for as long as possible,” (Y/N) said as she wiggled out of Hiccups grips to the Viking's annoyance. She quickly turned around however and stood between his legs, forcing the Viking to look up at her from where he sat as he extended both of his arms so they could gently rest on her hips. “I’ve got a lot of time to make up for. So, if you could help me by painting Stardust with me, I’d appreciate it.”

At the mention of her name, Stardust stood and stalked a few steps away from Toothless, getting ready to be coated in paint. But when she heard her name in the same sentence as the Viking (Y/N) likes to keep around, her head shot around so she could watch Hiccup with a heated gaze.

“I’m not too sure Stardust likes the sound of that,” Hiccup said slowly. Rising from his seat, he followed after the shorter girl as she moved over to where three bowls of paint sat. Of course, there was the bowl of red paint that Hiccup had used for Toothless, but the other two bowls were left untouched.

“Nonsense. Stardust will stand still as you help me,” (Y/N) announced confidently as she picked up a bowl filled with light blue along with a sponge that sat near it. As she turned back around she sent Stardust a warning look, silently telling her to behave. “I want to do a sort of spiral along Stardust’s back where the colours intertwine with one another. But I don’t know what markings I want to do on her wings or face yet.”

Hiccup came up next to (Y/N), a step or two away from Stardust as he watched (Y/N) dip the sponge into the paint and slowly start to trail it along Stardust’s back. A soft purring began to emit from the Lightfury as (Y/N) worked her way down, her other hand gently trailing along with her. Hiccup took this as his chance to step up beside her now that she had gravitated further down Stardust’s body. At the sense of his presence, Stardust’s head whipped around while the rest of her body stayed eerily still.

“Easy girl,” Hiccup reassured gently as he raised a slightly shaking hand for Stardust to sniff. The dragon however scoffed a bunch of air out of her nose, the wind smacking against Hiccup’s hand as she turned away from him once more with a grumble. As if on cue, Toothless waddled over to them and stopped in front of Stardust to keep her busy while Hiccup worked.

When a hiccup got about halfway, (Y/N) left his side as she walked over to Stardust’s other side. Patting the white dragon on the edge of her wing, Stardust extended it for (Y/N)’s use. (Y/N) started to run the blue paint over the groves of Stardust's wings. As Hiccup walked over to help finish off the wing, he got a similar response to when he stepped up to her once more.

(Y/N) didn't pay too much mind to her, shushing her as Hiccup watched what she was doing. "I want this done on the other wing but in reversed colours. Also, can you fill these in with pink? And trace the back of her wing with it as well before you start on the other side with me?"

"Sure I can," Hiccup agreed, quickly doing what the (H/C) haired girl had asked him to. Again, (Y/N) was able to finish and move on to Stardust's other wing as Hiccup fought to catch up, trailing behind her as he copied her work. When Hiccup finished, he could see the girl crouched in front of Stardust's face while the dragon leant her face down low. Coming to a stop behind her, Hiccup saw the two bands of blue wrapped around Stardust's front legs while she now trailed some paint up her face. Looking at the close proximity between the two, Hiccup said, "I think you should finish Stardust off."

Once the final stroke of paint was drawn, (Y/N) turned back to smile at Hiccup. "Come on Hic, you know Stardust won't bite."

"That's the thing," Hiccup unwearily said as he cautiously stepped forward, an immediate response rising out of Stardust. (Y/N)'s head instantly whipped around at the noise emitting from her dragon. A light scowl was on her face, slowly making the rumbling calm down. "I'm not completely sure she won't."

(Y/N) took a second to think over what she was going to do before she reached a hand back for Hiccup to take, waiting patiently until she felt the steady weight of it. At the contact she pulled him forward, the light ring of his metal foot hitting against the stone floor as (Y/N) pulled him to crouch down next to her. Stardust's face twisted at the sight of the other dragon rider but tried to stand still as (Y/N) was still crouched in front of her.

Grabbing onto Hiccup's other hand, the one that had the bowl and sponge held in it, she pulled it forward before making another grab for his previous hand. Together they dipped the sponge in the paint before trailing it along Stardust's front legs, having two rings on each alternating leg. Since (Y/N) was doing most of the work, Stardust couldn't find it in herself to try and scare them off. She still however made her annoyance known as she glared at Hiccup, the boy only being able to give her a throaty chuckle in response.

As they moved onto Stardust's face, (Y/N)'s hold on Hiccup's hand loosened, giving him the chance to back away if he wanted. But the boy's hand stayed where it was, trying not to seem too keen to get closer. As the sponge dipped back into the paint before moving up to the Lightfury's face, Stardust slowly closed her eyes, allowing the paint to trail across her face. Hiccup could feel a smile slowly starting to etch across his face. Never before had he been able to get this close to the Lightfury with Stardust's willingness. Even if there wasn't much of it right now.

"All done," (Y/N) happily cheered as she pulled Hiccup's hand away from Stardust's face. The dragon's eyes instantly shot open, a smile starting to stretch across her face as she turned to find Toothless to show off the finished work. (Y/N) watched happily as the dragon bounced over to Toothless, spreading her wings as she pranced around Toothless, forcing him to turn to follow her as he showed one of his famous toothless smiles.

"Now it's time for something more important," Hiccup said as he stood. Balancing the paint in one hand, he pulled (Y/N) to her feet before tugging her slightly closer.

"What could be more important than painting Stardust?" (Y/N) questioned, smiling softly up at Hiccup as she waited to see what he might do.

"This," He said as he dipped his thumb into the pink paint and brought his hand up to (Y/N)'s cheek. He waited half a second before running his pink-coated thumb across her cheekbone, making sure he curled the paint up the higher he got. A laugh rang out of (Y/N) as she pinched close one of her eyes when Hiccup ran his thumb underneath it. Once he was done with that half of (Y/N)'s face he wiped his thumb into the palm of his hand, trying to get rid of as much of it as possible before he bent down to place his bowl down and pick up the one (Y/N) had put down earlier. "Nearly done."

"You have to let me do your paint after this," (Y/N) demanded with a grin, leaning forward as she bounced forward on her toes.

"Absolutely not." Hiccup was careful not to mess up the swirls he was painting onto the girl's face. "What I want is simple and I can do it myself. Plus, I know you're going to try and add something to the design if I don't keep a close eye on you."

"Alright," (Y/N) said as a hum in return. She stood still as she waited for Hiccup to finish. "Here, I'll take the paint back over."

At the offer, Hiccup handed the bowl of light blue over, watching as (Y/N) turned to get the pink bowl off the floor before walking over to the table it had originally rested on. Dipping a thumb into the blue paint, she let it coat her thumb before grabbing the bowl of red paint for Hiccup and bringing it over for him. "Thank you, (Y/N)."

"No problem, my love," (Y/N) said as the bowl was handed over. Hiccup's eyes flashed up at her, trying to hide a smile as he dipped his pointer and middle finger into the paint. While Hiccup was distracted by his own paint, (Y/N) reached her thumb up and smeared the blue paint she had gotten on it across her lips until they were completely covered in blue. Hiding her face by knocking her head down, (Y/N) circled Hiccup until she stood behind the dragon rider. Wrapping both of her arms around the taller boy's waist, she rested her chin on Hiccup's shoulder like he had done to her earlier. As Hiccup dipped his two fingers into the paint again so he could drag them along his face, (Y/N) lept forward and placed a small kiss on the boy's jaw.

"What was that for?" Hiccup asked as he lifted his hand up to draw on the paint, ignoring the sensation of the paint (Y/N) had left behind.

"Nothing," (Y/N) grinned, hiding it behind Hiccup's head as she moved to his other side before placing a longer, drawn-out kiss on his cheek. The blue paint wasn't as vibrate as the first kiss but still was a clear outline of her lips. "Am I not allowed to kiss my boyfriend?"

"I never said that," Hiccup said as he twisted in (Y/N)'s arms. His eyes locked on the colour of (Y/N)'s lips too late as he had already dived forward to catch her lips with his own. (Y/N) smiled at the sensation, keeping her arms tightly wrapped around Hiccup's midsection while the boy's brows pinched together. His tongue edged forward, waiting for (Y/N) to part her lips when the taste hit him quickly. Just as (Y/N) was about to grant him entrance, Hiccup pulled back, staring confusedly down at (Y/N)'s lips. "Why is there paint on your lips?"

"No reason," (Y/N) quickly said, feigning nonchalance. Maybe she spoke too quickly or should have been quicker since when she surged forward to try and leave another kiss mark on Hiccup's face, the boy planted both hands on (Y/N)'s shoulders, a groan leaving his now blue-coated lips as he hung his head onto (Y/N)'s shoulders.

"Please don't tell me your blue kisses are all over my face." (Y/N) didn't respond, causing another groan to rise from Hiccup as he lifted his head again, scowling lightly at the shorter girl when all she could do was smile. "You know what?"

"What?" (Y/N) asked, her brows furrowing at the lack of reaction from Hiccup. Once she saw Hiccup's thumb dip into his red paint, her eyes widened at what she knew was coming her way. Dropping her hands from Hiccup's side, she tried to wiggle back and out of his grip.

"No, you don't," Hiccup quickly exclaimed as the bowl of red paint dropped from his hand and spilled across the stone floor. Not to matter though since Hiccup's lips were already coated red. (Y/N) tried to fight Hiccup's arms off her as she backed away with a laugh. Hiccup's arms shot out and tightly secured themselves around (Y/N), trapping her arms to her side in the process. (Y/N) tried to lean back as far as possible but Hiccup only followed after her. Leaning up and forward, Hiccup placed a large kiss on (Y/N)'s forehead, marvelling at the red that was left behind. "There. Now we match."

(Y/N) pretended to be annoyed as she felt Hiccup's arms loosen around her. She wasn't doing a very good job at hiding her true emotions as a large smile blossomed across her face. At that moment, (Y/N) didn't have to worry about anything. Certainly not about the betting that was going on above her.

“My money’s on Snotlout,” Spitelout said as he stood neck to Stoick. Spitelout was looking down at his son as he pointed an all-knowing finger towards him.

“You sure he ain’t gonna throw it all away again?” Gobber asked from the other side of their chief as he scratched his beard with his fake wooden hand, looking down at Snotlout with a less then keen eye.

Spitelout flashed Gobber a glare, both of his arms crossed tightly over his chest as he said, “I’m sure he has it this time around.”

"What about you Stoick?" Gobber asked, turning Spitelout's glare away from him as they both turned their attention to the man sitting down. "Who have you got your eyes on for today's race?"

Stoick didn't even need to think about his answer as he brought a large hand to rub against his chin while saying with a bellowing voice, "My golds going towards my daughter-in-law."

"Oh? Hiccup's popped the big question?" Gobber asked he turned back to look at the pair still wrapped in each other's arms. He could see the splatter of paint they had been leaving on each other's faces, but Gobber was more than content to let them stay in their own little bubble for a bit longer.

Stoick's face pulled downwards at the question. In a grumbled-out response, he said, "Not yet."

"If that boy doesn't hurry up, she's going to do it for him," Spitelout stated, getting silent agreement from the Vikings he was conversing with."Now, back to business. Not putting your gold on Hiccup, eh?"

"Not today, no," Stoick shook his head. "(Y/N) and her dragon have been looking promising recently."

"We'll see if your judgement has grown clouded soon enough," Spitelout teased, grinning as he heard the final horn ring out. Some of the dragon riders got on their dragons as soon as possible, flying up to where they stood on their baskets, waiting for the race to begin. "Normal amount?"

"Hm? Sure," Stoick absentmindedly said as he stood from his seat and walked a few steps forward, gaining the silence from the crowded arena stands. The silence urged the remaining dragon riders to mount their dragons and get to their starting positions. "Vikings and dragon riders, today we join for the first race of the year. On the Gronckle we have Fishlegs, the Monstrous Nightmare being flown by Snotlout-"

Stoick was cut off by a loud cheer from Spitelout, the man yelling, "That's my boy!"

"Yes, thank you for that wonderful display Spitelout," Stoick deadpanned as he turned briefly to face the other Viking as he calmed himself down. "The twins, Ruffnut and Tuffnut of the Hideous Zippleback, Astrid on the Deadly Nadder, and my son of the Nightfury."

Stoick paused as he got to (Y/N)'s part, drawing the crowd into suspense. "And on the Lightfury we have my hopefully soon to be daughter in law, (Y/N)!"

(Y/N) turned and grinned at the Viking chief, her face light and full of joy as she laughed along with the other Vikings watching from the arena stands as Hiccup gave off a slightly sheepish smile. At his smile, Gobber banged his wooden hand on the arena's railing before pointing accusingly at Hiccup and saying, "We see you, Hiccup and we're all waitin' for that question to be answered."

"Moving on," Stoick yelled as Hiccup threw his hands in exasperation. "I hear now begin the first dragon race of the year! Release the sheep!"

Once the horn rang out, all six dragons took off. At first, it was a battle of speed as they all raced straight up before breaking away from each other so they could scower Berk for any of the painted sheep they needed to win this. There were twelve sheep that they needed to find before the black sheep worth ten points would be shot to the sky.

As (Y/N) guided Stardust a bit closer to the huts when she noticed another fury trailing behind her. Looking over her shoulder with a grin, she saw Hiccup flying not too far behind them, the paint from earlier still smeared across his face and lips. "Love that colour on you. Is it maroon?"

"Oh, laugh all you want," Hiccup waved her off as he leaned forward on Toothless's back a bit more, his hands tightening on the saddle as Toothless tried to speed up.

(Y/N)'s head quickly turned back around, copying Hiccup's movements as she leaned down to Stardust's ears. "Come on girl, it's time to disappear."

Stardust let out a soft mew at (Y/N)'s words. Spreading her wings wide, speeding up as much as possible in the time to heat up a plasma blast in her mouth. Without warning her wings shot inwards towards her body as she turned into a nosedive. As the shot rang out, (Y/N) buried herself as close to Stardust's body as possible. As the both of them dived through the blast, the same cloaking that took over Stardust danced across (Y/N) and the few white scales she had woven into her clothes.

"Whoo!" (Y/N) yelled as they vanished without a trace, the only lingering part of them being her voice. It took a while for (Y/N) to spot her first sheep, the fluffy animal trying to hide under the hut of some Viking. But when both her and Stardust's eyes landed on it, they changed paths without a thought and swooped down. Twisting her body so (Y/N) sat upside down on her back, Stardust flew upside down so (Y/N) could hang down and pick the sheep up from where it lay. Pulling the sheep to her chest, Stardust helped to right them up as they burst back into the sky.

To everyone else, it looked like a sheep had somehow been granted the ability to fly but those who truly knew could just see the ripple in the air as (Y/N) and Stardust tore through the air.

Taking a sharp turn, the two of them with their extra passenger dived back towards the training arena, careful to keep out of sight of any other dragon riders. As they swooped in, the crowd cheered as they faded back into view to drop the sheep into the Lightfury's basket. Taking a quick look at the other baskets, (Y/N) could see that Astrid already had two sheep while Hiccup had three, meaning there were only six more sheep to find before the black sheep was released.

Pulling back on Stardust's saddle, the whistle that commonly was handed to the Nightfury rang out, filling the air as she shot away from the arena. The two of them didn't have time to waste as Stardust looked out for any stray sheep while (Y/N) looked for any dragon riders in the air with sheep.

As her eyes landed on Berk's Nightfury, a grin spread across her face. "Stardust, we need to go after Toothless. Make sure he doesn't see us coming."

Stardust shot out another plasma shot, cloaking them as Toothless looked back as the noise echoed. The dragon's eyes narrowed as it searched for Stardust but eventually had to look away when nothing turned up. Hovering above him though was Stardust as (Y/N) began to climb from her back. (Y/N) kept a hand situated on the saddle as she got ready to drop. Her feet touched down on the leathery back of Toothless, a confused yelp escaping him as his head shot back once again. As the feeling began to climb along his back, he tried to hiss out a warning to Hiccup.

"I'll be taking that," (Y/N) yelled as she tore the sheep from Hiccup's hands before launching herself off and over Toothless's head. Toothless gargled as (Y/N) went falling off of him, diving through thin air as she waited for Stardust to catch her. She continued to fall for a few seconds before she saw a floating sheep hurtling towards her in the claws of Stardust as she faded back into existence once more. (Y/N) landed on Stardust's back harshly, her bones rattling as one of her hands unlatched from the sheep to grab onto Stardust as she turned to the arena, a Nightfury on her tail.

"I'm going to need that back, (Y/N)," Hiccup called as he tried to keep up with (Y/N) and her Lightfury. Adjusting his metal foot, Toothless's tail changed directions, giving them a gust of speed. The soft grunts of a Monstrous Nightmare behind him were slightly startling with how close Snotlout and Hookfang were to catch up to them. Stating his thoughts, Hiccup said, "We can't let that happen, bud."

Toothless made his agreement known as he flapped his wings once, shooting away from Snotlout as they grew closer to Stardust. But no matter what they seemed to do, Stardust had an impossible lead on them. So there was no stopping it when Hiccup watched as both sheep were dropped into the Lightfury's basket. Hiccup and her were now tied. Astrid still had two but the twins had been able to score themself a sheep of their own. Nine sheep found, three to go.

(Y/N) and Stardust shot up once more, hoping to make one final round before the black sheep could be found. They didn't bother to vanish again, shooting through the sky as they tried to find more sheep. It was when a commotion could be heard above them. Meatlug had a sheep clutched in her claws while Stormfly and Barf and Belch tried to herd the sheep towards them. Fishlegs was panicking from atop the Gronckle, a perfect opportunity for (Y/N) to steal it.

Barf and Belch slammed into the side of Meatug, making the Gronckke growl as the sheep was dropped from her to retrieve the fallen sheep already gone after it. Stormfly was close to grabbing it within her claws when Stardust shot forward, sweeping the sheep from the air as she spiraleD up. “You’re going to have to be quicker than that if you want to win this!”

"Stormfly fetch!" Astrid yelled and the excited growl that erupted from Stormfly was anything to go by, (Y/N) was going to be in trouble.

"Fly Stardust, fly," (Y/N) screeched as the Deadly Nadder's eyes locked onto the both of them. Stardust's head shook as she shot forward, taking sharp turns to try and lose Stormfly as they were chased down. (Y/N)'s eyes landed on the last two remaining sheep. Patting on Stardust's neck, the Lightfury's eyes also landed on where (Y/N) was looking. "This is going to be a close one."

Dropping down, Stardust got all of her claws ready, planning on holding one sheep in each pair. As they reached the sheep, Stadust's front claws were able to score the first sheep but as she started to lift, her black claws pointing out to latch onto the sheep's fur, something snatched it out from under her. "I think it's only fair that I get this one after what happened earlier."

It was Hiccup. Both Stardust and (Y/N) were left slightly dumbfounded as they followed after the Nightfury. The others had caught onto their catchings and were trailing after them, making a train of dragons and dragon riders. As Hiccup threw his sheep down, followed by (Y/N) and her two, a final horn rang out, signalling the black sheep as the scores rested five to (Y/N), Hiccup at four, Astrid at two and the twins at one. Whoever grabbed this sheep would seal the victory.

"It's just one more sheep, Stardust," (Y/N) whispered to her dragon, the two of them shooting away from the arena along with all the other dragon riders. (Y/N) could hear them also muttering encouragements to their dragons. "We've come far enough to win this all."

As she spoke, she heard the launch of the sheep, the subtle clank of the chains smacking against wood as the black sheep went flying. It was a fight of flames and talons as all eyes locked onto the black sheep. It was a certain Nightfury that was able to shoot forward and steal the sheep into his clutches. That's when the chase broke out again.

Toothless had an advantage with speed, taking a small lead as Stormfly and Stardust were close behind. Both dragons were trying to shoot forward in front of the other, the riders on their back yelling jeers at each other as their dragons did the work. It was only when Stardust was able to push herself forward in a burst of speed that Astrid let out a frustrated yell. "He's right there Stardust. It's now or never."

As her agreement Stardust flew under Toothless, getting close enough that (Y/N) could reach up and snatch the Blacksheep from his claws, earning a snap from the dragon. "Right, let's go."

As they lowered themselves even further, Stardust let out a roar as they flew. The arena could be seen coming up, crowds of Vikings hitting each other and jumping up to see who had the black sheep as they all rode in.

It didn't stop there though. As they began to dip into the arena, Snotlout came hurtling around from the other side of the arena, an axe in hand as he tried to swing it toward (Y/N)'s head. Stardust already acted as (Y/N) yelled, "Dive, dive, dive!"

Nearly falling from Stardust's back because of the lost grip she had, a not-very Viking-sounding squeak as she fought to grip onto Stardust's saddle. Stardust rumbled from below her as she knocked her tail up, bumping (Y/N) further up her saddle as she swung around the arena, weaving in and out from the different dragons as they tried to steal what was theirs.

As the black sheep made contact with the Lightfury's basket, the sheep getting squashed in with the other ones, a ripple broke out through the stadium as the race ended.

"Yes," (Y/N) yelled as she threw both her arms out, Stardust throwing her own call to the wind as they sailed across the arena perimeter, close enough to the stands that some of the Vikings could read out and congratulate her.

"That's my girl," (Y/N) heard the yell from Hiccup as he flew up next to her, the tips of Toothless and Stardust's wings overlapping. "I almost thought I'd be able to win one over you."

"That is where you must have gone wrong," (Y/N) called back before Stardust was steering her to Stoick's seat, the man waiting happily with a grumbling Spitelout not too far away from him. "Have I won you enough gold, Stoick?"

His booming laugh shot around. "You have this time."

"Placing bets again Dad?" Hiccup questioned as he fell from Toothless's saddle, climbing over to (Y/N) where he pulled her from Stardust's saddle and placed a kiss on the side of her head.

"Of course I was Hiccup," Stoick said as he watched the two. "Picked the right dragon as well."

Turning around to face Hiccup, (Y/N) grinned up at him. "You want to go on another race?"

419 notes · View notes

tadpolesonalgae · 8 months

Text

High Lords and their kinks

a/n: this got so out of hand so quickly

Warnings: smut. just so much smut

Rhysand:

We all know he has a breeding kink, and with a smart mouth like that he definitely knows how to put it to good use on you

He has those lovely, deliciously sensitive, big illyrian wings at his back—practically a walking weak spot. And after all the teasing he puts you through with that cruel, silver-tipped tongue, you’re perfectly entitled to put him through his own set of trials

You cannot tell me he doesn’t get off on showing you off—at least a little. Whether it’s subtly matching jewellery pieces, having his scent marking your clothing, or having you astride his thigh before his court in the Hewn City, he delights in letting everyone know you’re one another’s.

Helion:

Is there anything I can actually add that isn’t obvious? He has a whole library at his fingertips, and knowing how much of the internet consists of porn in various forms, you cannot tell me there isn’t a secret alcove he has or even a whole other library (private, for your and his use only, of course) dedicated specifically for his personal interests.

He’s definitely familiar with sex toys, are you kidding me? He could go from cooking meals for you and letting you try on his golden snake armband, to having you gently spread apart for him on his bed, thighs pushed open, forearms bound at your back, eyes blindfolded as tears of pleasure spill down, a vibrator secured perfectly over your clit while he latches his mouth over your pretty nipples, keeping himself deep inside your dripping cunt.

And he’d use them outside the bedroom, too.

Sharing erotica that has heat spreading through your bodies—whether it’s reenacting scenes together, or being told to read a page aloud as he applies himself to you, it’s something both of you take pleasure in, finding equal enjoyment in the physical intimacy as well as the emotional side of getting to discover and share new experiences together.

Thesan:

Hear me out on this: threesomes.

We already know he has a male lover, so sharing you with someone else—someone he cares for and trusts—isn’t an issue. Quite the opposite.

Getting to watch as both his partners touch and explore one another, kiss and discover, or turn their sights on him—absolute heaven. Especially after a long day of work, dealing with High Lord business, then getting to just relax into his lovers’ arms? Utter perfection.

And it’s non-sexual too: waking up with a warm body pressed either side that’s been softened from sleep, sharing meals and nabbing pieces of food off each other’s plates, swapping clothes and sharing scents until they’re so thoroughly combined no one would remember what belongs to who since they all smell the same.

Kallias (and Viviane):

Temperature play.

Hot baths, a thick lather of bubbles looking like foam across the surface, heat soaking into your body until you’re sweating, all the while he’s running cool fingertips over your skin, so perfectly sensitive as he plays with you leisurely, brushing teasingly over your nipples, dipping between your thighs to press the cold pad of his digit flat to your clit.

I might be biased, but I feel like Kallias would also have some hints of a breeding kink.

Sinking into your warm, wet heat—how could he resist filling you up, hoping that you take to him, latch on and keep him tucked away inside.

Now, adding Viviane into the mix, things get so much messier.

Nights that would start off clean cut and strict would slowly devolve into sloppily grinding against one another, turned dumb and pliable by relentless pleasure. Kallias often finding himself rolling his hips to one of you, the other placed atop their mouth. When it’s not that way round, it’s him who’s lying on the bed, panting and fucked out while Viviane rides his cock, you keeping him docile and distracted beneath your cunt while your hands explore her breasts, cupping and thumbing across her nipples, mouthes latched together intimately.

Tarquin:

Oh boy, we’re touching on some monsterfucking here, no way around it. I mean, come on, his whole theme is to do with the sea, of course tentacles are going to come into play one way or another when he partially transforms.

Hundreds of small suction pads settling across your body, bath water lapping at the sides while you lean into him, panting with heat and need. It’s like having tiny mouths licking and suckling at the best spots across your skin, one placed deliberately over your clit while his fingers work you apart, then switching between using his mouth and his tentacles to tug and suck at your nipples, loving how you cry out for him.

I also think he’d absolutely love seeing you in lingerie—lovely pale green lace with creamy white frills, reminding him of sea foam. How you’ll sometimes adorn yourself in pearls, their pale shine complimenting the threads of your underwear, making him desperate to touch you, to at least feel you against him in some way.

Beron (+Eris, separately):

He is an utter control freak but in the best way (cannot believe I’m saying this—kind of struggling)

Anything from collars, to leashes, to chains, ropes, ties, even his belt, he knows how to use them on you, to wrap you up in such a way that he is in complete and utter control over your body, deciding how much pleasure to doll out that night. Going as far as to have a little bell attached to the collar, just to add that edge of humiliation.

Now, despite how dominating that might sound, he loves flipping you on your back, keeping your thighs spread apart even as you try to shut them when he spins you into overstimulation. And why wouldn’t he?

Using his mouth on you, reducing you to such a blabbering mess gives him ultimate control over you—who needs daemati abilities to shatter minds when you have heated fingertips and a mouth that knows how to put its harsh properties to use?

Eris—he knows his strengths, and plays to them.

While others might spend precious minutes going around, lighting every candle, he can do it with a fraction of a thought, filling your room with a soft glow, helping you settle into that mood.

It’s taken a bit, but you’ve managed to narrow down the selection of scents to a specific combination—reaching the point you’re no longer able to smell even a hint of vanilla without utterly soaking your underwear. Though maybe that had been part of a secret plan of his, to get you to associate a scent so powerfully with pleasure that you’d be at his mercy with little more than a candle to blame.

While he can be teasing, and a little mean at times, he enjoys slowly kissing his way down your body, murmuring how much he adores you, how he cherishes you, how he loves the way you thread your fingers through his hair. And you love hearing those whispered confessions from his lips, because it means he feels safe. Safe to speak with you, to trust in you, to allow himself to be comforted by you. He has someone to be with.

Tamlin:

Obviously, monsterfucking again

Probably in possession of a wicked power kink as well as in favour of some predator play. Getting to chase after you beneath a full moon—there’s something so ancient and ritualistic about the practice that just eases some tension in his beast’s bones. Catching up with you and clasping the nape of your gown in his jaws to raise you from the ground as you squirm helplessly, unable to do much against such a massive creature.

I do think that behind closed doors, he wouldn’t mind the power imbalance going in the opposite direction though… Being forced to just sit and wait patiently while you strip yourself of your clothes, teasingly tossing your underwear into his lap while you lay back on the bed, pleaded with how his fangs have subconsciously pushed from his upper lip, pupils dilated with ferocious hunger—needing to bed you.

Hybern:

Loves getting head

We’re in unfamiliar territory over here, but he knows his way around some nasty spells. Incantations that have you riding him desperately, aching for release after release, grinding tight against his hips so he touches those spots that have you sobbing.

Potions are also frequently incorporated—that make you need him with every part of your being with such an acute intensity he makes a mental note to lessen to liquid’s concentration next time.

He also like seeing you in different crowns, one time putting you in one made of bone, then ordering you to remove your dress without dislodging it—if it was nudged, he’d edge you until you were crying, but if it fell… Mother save you.

general taglist: @myheartfollower @tcris2020 @mali22 @amygdtjhddzvb @sfhsgrad-blog @needylilgal022 @hannzoaks @hnyclover @skyesayshi @nyotamalfoy

rhys taglist: @azrielshadows1nger

#rhysand #helion #thesan #kallias #tarquin #beron #eris #tamlin #hybern #so conflicted rn

227 notes · View notes

a-yellow-van · 5 months

Text

Wish You Were Here | Part 2

The aftermath of the previous evening.

Series masterlist

Pairing : Joel Miller x f!reader

Fanfic tags : canon compliant, slow burn, romance, eventual smut, angst, hurt/comfort, joel and the reader are terrible at feelings, female reader, no use of y/n, reader is in early 30s, past relationships, trauma/PTSD, grief, loss, post-apocalypse, jackson joel, joel is a good parent to ellie, major character death, original characters, queer characters, bisexual main character, age difference, canon-typical violence

WC for part 2 : 5.9 k

Warnings for part 2 : swearing, implied sexual content

(I had this one already written, currently working on part 3 so it'll take me a bit of time before uploading again)

You’re jolted awake, face contorted in a silent scream, dry tears stinging your cheeks, fists clenching the sheets, heart beating at a wild pace. The last remnants of a nightmare fade away, leaving a shot ringing in your ears, as you try to focus on your surroundings. You’re here, in your bedroom, in your house, in Jackson. You’re safe. You breathe, slowly, in and out. Everything is fine. Everything is-

Images from last night flash before your eyes. Joel, laughing with you. His hands on your waist. His lips on yours. The desire. His rage. And the abandon.

Shit.

Shit, shit, shit.

A wave of shame, along with nausea, hits you like a freight train. Your head is pounding, your mouth dry, an awful taste lingering in it. You gag, leap out of bed and run to the bathroom just in time.

When you’re done, you rinse your mouth and meet your reflection. Bloodshot eyes, heavy bags underneath them, knotted hair sticking out around a sickly pale face. You left the tavern without telling anyone and immediately collapsed into bed. Yesterday’s clothes, that you’re still wearing, smell like booze and sweat and something else too- or rather someone else. You shut your eyes and rub them with closed fists, applying so much pressure it hurts. You want to bash your face in the mirror.

God you’re a wreck.

You decide brushing your teeth and taking a shower is the best course of action right now. Your watch indicates it’s well past noon and there’s no way you can get back to sleep. Not with those thoughts swimming around your head. The scalding water does little to distract you from them. You scrub your skin raw, as if you can wash away Joel’s touch; it doesn’t work. You still feel him against you when you step out of the bathtub. You’re thinking about the kiss as you get dressed, as you run a comb through your wet hair, as you walk down to your kitchen, and as you put on the kettle for tea. Why can’t you stop thinking about it? And why the hell is part of you wishing that it went further? The kettle whistling shakes you out of the spiral. You wish you had a stronger beverage, that and a painkiller, but they’re rare supplies these days. You fill a mug with the tea and try sitting at your small kitchen island, but it quickly becomes claustrophobic, as though the walls are closing in on you. So you get up and grab a rainbow wool blanket, knitted by Astrid as a Christmas present, from the couch. Wrapping yourself in it, you go out to your back porch and sprawl on one of the lawn chairs, the bitter January air stinging your lungs, shocking you into alertness. The pain is refreshing.

What a fucking way to start the year.

You look out at the frosted mountains in the distance, peaceful giants protecting the town. They’re strong, grounded, indomitable. You think it’d be nice to float up to the top and lay there above the clouds, where what is happening down below wouldn’t matter at all. You take a sip of tea, which burns your tongue, and you curse under your breath. It brings you right back to reality. On the yard right of yours, the neighbour’s kids are playing in the snow, their high-pitched giggles filling the air. The girl, about seven years old, notices you and stops to call out your name. You give her a small wave back.

“Happy new year!” She yells enthusiastically, flashing the gap of fallen front teeth. Her younger brother imitates her but stumbles on half of the words. Their little faces are flushed, snowsuits soaking wet. You can’t help but find it adorable, even in your condition. It never ceases to impress you how resilient children can be, how they can keep their wonder, their innocence when the world has crumbled around them.

“Happy new year. Don’t get frostbite,” you reply.

“Look at our snowman!” the boy chips in, his lisp evident, pointing at a shapeless mount of snow.

You chuckle. “He’s cool. You should add a carrot.”

The kids beam, and run off inside to act upon your suggestion. And then a snowball flies out of nowhere and hits you on the shoulder, almost causing you to drop your tea. You shriek, jumping to your feet and putting the mug down on the railing as another snowball misses your head by a hair’s breadth. Max’s figure appears from behind a thick pine tree growing right outside your fence.

“HEY! WHAT THE F-” you catch yourself, remembering there are children closeby. Max steps fully into view, guffawing, their bright red beanie clashing with the ginger locks peaking out. They walk to the side and push the fence door open, entering your backyard.

“Moron.” There is no humour in your voice. You brush the snow off your clothes, muttering to yourself. Max walks up the old wooden stairs and joins you on the porch.

“Really? Not even a hi, how are you, happy new year?” They raise a hand to their chest in mock offence.

“You didn’t give me time for that did you? Nearly took my fucking head off.” You cross your arms tightly. You’re really not in the mood for Max’s antics. Not today.

“Jesus, so dramatic,” they sit down on the other lawn chair, while you remain standing. “Woke up on the wrong foot?”

Anger bubbles up inside, as does the urge to punch that smug little grin off Max’s face. “What are you doing here?” You ask, bluntly.

“Hm. Not much. Just, uh, checking in on you,” Max replies, purposefully evasive. The anger rises.

“Why?” You bark, already knowing the answer to that question.

“Well…Just heard you got into, uh, an interesting situation last night.” They look up at you with that smirk again. You glare back, fuming, and grunt in response.

God they can be such a fucking pain in the ass.

“So I’m just wondering what it is exactly that made you think oh, yeah,” they suspend their voice for a few seconds “Joel Miller?” They accentuate his name as if it were an insult, full of implication.

You’re trying to keep calm, but it’s getting very difficult. You choose your words carefully. “I was drunk. We were just talking. And it’s none of your business” Your voice trembles with the emotion.

“Just talking, uh?” Max is clinging on to this stronger than a dying man to his last breath.

“I don’t know what you’re implying, but nothing happened,” you lie, through gritted teeth. You’re dangerously close to your tipping point.

“Hm. That’s weird, `cause Astrid told us she saw a lot more than-”

“Can you fucking drop it?” you shout. Max has done it.

They're taken aback by your outburst, pausing for a beat, before their expression hardens. They inhale sharply and speak up again, brows furrowed in frustration.

“You know, I’m getting sick of this closed up bullshit. We’ve been friends for what, 5 years, and you never tell me a single thing about how you’re feeling, or your past, or-“

“We’re not friends,” you interrupt them, harshly.

“Oh, okay, yeah, sure!” Their tone drips with sarcasm. “Then what are we?”

The question makes you hesitate. “I don’t know. Coworkers,” you say, your tone losing conviction.

“Oh for fuck’s sake!” Max exclaims. “Are you serious? So you’re telling me you- you came to your coworker’s house in the middle of the night after having a breakdown?

Your chest tightens at the memory. It’s a moment of weakness you really hate to be reminded of. “That’s not fair. It was a long time ago,” you grumble, looking down.

“Uh-huh,” Max continues, raising their voice. “You supported your coworker when they came out to you?” They wait, expecting you to interject, but you keep quiet, so they take it up a notch. “You helped your coworker when they were starving, bleeding out, half-frozen to death? That’s what you’re telling me?”

You still don’t respond, but the anger is starting to melt; Max’s words are stabbing at a sensitive spot. You’re brought back in time, to one of your first ever patrols, in the dead of winter, when you were still training. You had gone off the trail because you thought you heard a faint plea for help. That’s when you had found Max, curled up in the hollow of a tree, skeletally thin, shivering, the snow stained red from a fresh wound on their leg. You had brought them back to Jackson, had strongly insisted to Maria that they stay in town, took Max’s defence when other survivors argued they were a lost cause. You’d checked in on them nearly every day, and you were right; Max had made a complete recovery, eventually growing into an active, important member of the community. At the time, you didn’t know why you were doing all of this for a stranger. Maybe you just couldn’t bear losing anyone else, couldn’t take being powerless, unable to save them.

Max lets a few seconds pass by in silence. “Look, all I’m saying is I care about you. And I got worried when you left last night. It wasn’t like you” they explain, softer now, the concern honest. You feel a pang of guilt for snapping at them as the anger vanishes completely. Truth is, you care about them too. A lot. Of course you do. And you’re mainly upset at yourself for acting in such a senseless way last night. But admitting all of that out loud, it’d be too much. Instead, you give Max a meaningful nod, and squeeze their arm.

“Yeah. Sorry. I’m okay. Just- I- I’m hungover.” There’s way more than that, and Max is well aware. But they don’t push further.

“Lightweight,” they tease, lightening the tension. You’re grateful for the change in mood.

“And you’re not? I think you burst the entire town’s eardrums last night,” you respond, relieved to fall back into the usual back-and-forth.

“Uh, I’ll have you know I’m proud of that performance,” they argue.

“I’ll give it to you. Wasn’t your worst,” you reply, feeling a smile pulling at your lips. Max gives you one back.

“Alright, can we go inside now? Fucking freezing” Max asks, rubbing their arms up and down.

“Yeah,” you answer, “want some breakfast?” It’s really the least you could do. Actions are much easier than words to show that you care.

“Would love some lunch.” They correct, as you slide open the glass door and let them pass first, following them in.

“Seriously though, Joel Miller?” they add, peering at you over their shoulder. You push them into the dining room.

“Mention it again and I’m hitting you,” you threaten, half-serious.

“Alright, alright,” Max concedes. “I just didn’t know you were into old men.” They snicker. You keep to your word and kick their ankle.

They squeal out in pain and you strike a second time. “I’m. Not.”

Max sits at the dining room table, massaging their hurt leg, while you scramble some eggs for the both of you. Along with some sourdough from Leanne at the bakery, it makes a decent meal. And, as you eat, you come to a conclusion. That thing with Joel, it doesn’t have to mean anything. It can’t mean anything. Because you’re not ready to accept the possibility that there might be something more. Something like feelings that you’d need to process. You’ve taken too long to build a thick, impenetrable shield around your heart. You can’t just drop it so quickly. It was a mistake, a lapse in judgement caused by the alcohol. You’re going to lock it away in a forgotten corner of your mind, like you usually do when emotions are involved. Just pretend it never happened, stay cordial with the man if ever have to interact again. It should be easy enough.

Right?

——————————

Joel is cruelly pulled out of sleep by a series of booming knocks. He sits up abruptly, in a panic, instinctively reaching at his side for a weapon but his fingers grasp only the pilled fabric of bed sheets. It takes a moment to situate himself, to remember he is out of danger. Whoever’s behind the noise doesn’t give him reprieve to slow down his pulse, however. Another round of knocks erupts as a muffled, irritated voice travels up to his bedroom.

“JOEL! HELLO? JOEELLLLL! WAKE UP!” It’s unmistakably Ellie.

The kid can be so damn loud for her size. Joel grumbles a string of curses, hurries out of bed and down the stairs despite strained muscles and the beginning of a migraine he’s certain will be terrible. He’s too old for hangovers like this. He jogs through the hallway, gets to the back door and flings it open before Ellie pipes up again. She’s standing on the porch, bundled up in her purple puffer jacket. Her balled fists are suspended in the air, mid-movement.

“WHAT?” He yells, making Ellie flinch. He immediately regrets his tone.

“Shit, no need to be rude,” the girl replies, arms dropping to her sides.

“Sorry, kid. You almost gave me a heart attack,” he says, rubbing the back of his neck. “What’s up?”

She gets straight to the point. “My heating’s busted. Can you fix it?”

Joel scoffs. “Good morning, Ellie! Happy new year to you too.”

“Uh, it’s almost 1 PM. And I didn’t think you celebrated,” Ellie answers matter-of-factly.

Little smartass.

Joel makes the motion to close the door in her face, but she’s faster and grabs the outer handle.

“Hey come on! It’s like 2 degrees in there!” She shouts.

Ellie stares up at him, impatient. Joel doesn’t budge. She sighs. “Please,” she mumbles, breaking eye contact.

Joel smirks. It’s exactly what he wanted to hear. He keeps her hanging for another few seconds before answering : “Okay.”

Ellie rolls her eyes.

“I still got Tommy’s tools. Can you wait 10 minutes?” He’s just giving Ellie a hard time, and she knows it. He’d do anything to help her, no matter what it entailed; he’s done a hell of a lot more than repair a broken heater.

“Yeah, sure, just drill me out of the block of ice,” Ellie says, spinning on her heels and walking off towards the garage that's been converted into her living quarters.

Joel smiles, watching her go. He gets back into the house and does his best to clean up in the bathroom while avoiding looking in the mirror. He still feels like he’s been run over by a truck, and sleeping the day off is very inviting, but he can’t just let the girl freeze. And the work will keep him busy, distract him from the pain. He puts on a coat over the clothes that he slept in, the same ones he was wearing at the tavern; he hadn’t bothered changing out of them after coming home. He ties his boots with difficulty and grabs the toolbox from a storage shelf in the utility room. He borrowed it from Tommy a few weeks ago when the upstairs bathroom nearly flooded, and hasn’t returned it yet. He makes a mental note of it. Joel’s house is a fixer upper for sure, but he’s done his best over the last six months, and it’s starting to become less of a temporary shelter and more of a home, something he never would have thought possible. Ellie’s presence at such a short distance definitely plays a role. He’s not hurt by the fact she insisted on having her separate space; he doesn’t think they’d have done well trying to fit into a normal family dynamic. That’s not what they are. And besides, he’s just happy she’s still talking to him, after what happened at the hospital. Joel brushes off the thought as he crosses the back garden, counting the steps it takes to reach the garage. There’s exactly thirteen. As always.

He lets himself in. Ellie’s waiting, laying on the loveseat wrapped in her duvet. She wasn’t lying; it’s glacial inside and Joel can see his breath. Ellie’s lit a fire in the wood stove, resourceful as she is, but it’s not doing much.

“Took you long enough,” she says, barely audible as half her face is covered by the blanket.

“Hey. Drop the attitude.” Joel orders, but a little smile curves up his lips. Ellie returns it. He can’t stay mad at her and she’s proud of it.

Joel looks around the room. Ellie’s bed is unmade, stripped of its cover; clothes are piling on a chair, random objects scattered around her desk, from coloured pencils to a used plate and utensils. Her guitar is held up by a sturdy stand in a corner, pristine; it’s apparent Ellie takes good care of it. And there, on the coffee table, a good amount of crumbs, and four empty bottles of beer. His gaze lingers on them long enough for Ellie to notice.

“Um, Cat came over last night she brought those, her mom was totally okay with it-” Ellie overexplains, the words coming out quickly.

Joel raises his eyebrows. “I didn’t say anythin’.” He likes that she gets anxious, it shows that she cares about his opinion, and doesn't want him to be disappointed. But how could he be? He’d do much worse than drinking a beer or two if he’d gone through as much as Ellie has at her age. “What’d you guys get up to?” Joel asks as he moves towards the space heater, plugged in a wall outlet not far from the loveseat. Ellie relaxes.

“Uh, we just watched a movie. Back to the Future,” she replies. Joel smiles. He’d found it out on a run and gave it to Ellie as a Christmas present. “Cat had such a crush on Marty. It was pretty funny,” the girl adds.

“And you didn’t?” He teases as he kneels in front of the heater, his back screaming in agony, and sets the toolbox down on the cold cement floor.

“Nah. Not my type.” Ellie shifts in her seat to get a good view of Joel. He starts by trying the power switch, to no avail. “I already did that,” she tells him in a condescending tone.

“Yeah, no shit,” Joel mutters. He takes out a screwdriver and finds the appropriate bit before starting to work on taking the heater apart. He opens up the electrical box and begins testing out the various components, face drawn out in concentration. Ellie observes him quietly for a few minutes, chewing on a nail. Joel’s completely focused on the pieces he’s turning over in his hands.

And then, he hears Ellie’s voice behind him again. “So. You were out pretty late last night,” she points out.

Joel freezes up, caught off guard. The tool he’s holding drops to the ground, clattering.

Last night. Fucking Hell.

Glimpses of the drunken evening assault his brain. Bribes of your conversation, how natural it felt talking to you. The sound of your laughter. How your eyes lit up when you smiled. The blushes you tried to hide. Your hands on his shoulders.

How smooth your lips were.

Wait.

The way the night ended suddenly comes back. A rush of anger, shame, and guilt engulfs him, the same one that pushed him to abandon you about ten hours ago. He has to stop himself from screaming, clenching his jaw and squeezing his eyes shut. Why the fuck did he do that? How could he let you get so close? When did he get so weak as to let his walls down that much the second a pretty woman talks to him? And why did it feel so damn good?

Joel fights to somewhat regain his composure, to act casual as he replies to Ellie. He clears his throat and picks the tool back up. “Uh, yeah. Just out at the tavern with Tommy,” he deflects.

“Hm.” Ellie pauses, letting Joel think she’s off the scent. But then, she questions : “Just Tommy?”

Nervosity is added to the boiling pot of emotions, lighting up the wick of a bomb Joel’s trying his hardest not to let explode.

What does the kid know?

He struggles to recall another memory. Your friend, the tall blonde one who’s another patroller, she saw you too together. Not what happened outside, but enough to raise suspicion, Joel’s ninety-nine percent certain of it.

He breathes slowly before answering. “Yup.” He attempts to be firm, but he can hear the hesitation in his own voice. So he busies himself with the heater again.

“Well,” Ellie starts, but Joel cuts her off, not taking any chances.

“Didn’t you have farm duty today?” He changes the subject abruptly, pulling at a wire.

“Uh, yeah, I went already. They let me off early,” Ellie says, “I heard something interesting though.” Joel can practically see the smirk on her face from where he is crouched, but he refuses to look her in the eyes.

Damn it.

He stays silent. Ellie continues. “You were…dancing? With someone?” She adds your name, inquiring.

Joel tightens his grip on the tool handle, knuckles turning white. “You don’t know what you’re talking ‘bout,” he utters. “We weren’t dancing.” He keeps his gaze stubbornly stuck to the heater.

Ellie holds back a laugh. “But you were with her?” She keeps up the interrogation.

The wick of the bomb burns more. “Just havin’ a conversation. With a coworker. I don’t know who told you that, but it ain’t true,” he replies harshly.

Ellie snorts. “Uh-huh. Okay. That’s-”

“Ellie. Stop.” Joel threatens, finally snapping his head up to glare at the girl. And the expression is enough to make her understand he isn’t joking. She listens to the command and shuts right up, however, she doesn’t lose the mocking grin.

He huffs, returning to the task. He’s mulling over everything in his head, beating himself up to a pulp, when Ellie decides to pick up her guitar. She begins practising Future Days, the song Joel has been teaching her. The notes are unsteady, the rhythm choppy, but the music is like a balm over Joel’s mind, soothing it. It helps him calm down, and soon enough, he finds the source of the heater’s malfunction : the fan is clogged with dust and debris. He dislodges it from the mechanism and cleans it out with a rag, whistling along to Ellie’s playing. He puts the pieces back together and wipes his hands on his jeans, before trying the power switch once more. The heater hums into life.

Ellie breathes a sigh of relief and puts down the guitar. “Oh fuck yeah.”

“Language,” Joel reprimands her. Ellie sticks out her tongue at him. He puts away the tools he’s used and stands up with the toolbox, knees creaking.

“Hey, thanks, Joel,” the girl says timidly, taking off the layers she’d put on, “and, uh, sorry I woke you up.” She’s genuine.

“It’s fine, kid. Don’t worry.” He awkwardly claps his free hand on his thigh, unsure if he should stay longer. He’d like to, but he doesn’t want to impose, or make it weird.

“You should go shower. You look like shit,” Ellie quips. “And we got dinner with Maria and Tommy later,” she adds.

“Hmm. Right,” he groans; he’d completely forgotten. He’s never wanted to do anything less in his life. The day just keeps getting better.

He follows Ellie’s advice once he’s back inside his house. As the hot water runs over his tired skin, he takes time to reflect, and he makes a decision. The encounter with you was simply a product of intoxication. The old, rusted feelings it stirred up within him were, too. It’s just been very long since he’s done anything…intimate. With anyone. That must explain it. He’s got to convince himself of that. Because the other alternative terrifies him, fills him with dread, and he can’t afford that. Not again. Not after Tess. So, he’s going to ignore it, push it away, bury it deep at the back of his mind, enough that it can’t affect him anymore. Just pretend it never happened, go back to the way he treated you before. Cold. Indifferent. He’s done that countless times.

Right.

It should be easy enough.

——————————

It has been two weeks. Two weeks that you’ve succeeded in avoiding Joel at all costs, and the weather has definitely helped. Winter has been ruthless, the temperature dropping below zero most mornings, the snowfall almost incessant, isolating the town. It’s mostly a positive; it prevents infected, or hunters, or worse, from discovering it. Survivors have been staying in as much as possible, going out only when absolutely necessary. You did your part with helping plough the snow on your horse, a dapple grey mare named Willow; Maria had assigned time slots to the capable survivors. Thankfully, you and Joel weren’t scheduled on the same one. You haven’t crossed paths with the man since New Year’s Eve, and you’re perfectly content with that.

Well, that isn’t the full truth. There’s a part of you that incomprehensibly wishes you could see him again. You absolutely despise it, and you’ve made an immense effort to silence those thoughts when they seize you. But they come often. Too often. You’ve thrown yourself into tasks, hobbies, anything to occupy your mind. Needless to say, your house has been extremely tidy lately, you’ve listened through your record collection multiple times, finished the novel you were reading (The Count of Monte Cristo which you had previously barely made a dent it), and started on at least three paintings which you hated and scrapped, and you’re not one to waste supplies. If the thoughts are hard to control during the day, it becomes impossible at night.

You’ve…dreamed about Joel. Doing things to you that you wouldn’t dare say out loud, to anyone, your inner thighs moist upon waking up. You think you might be going completely insane. So, you’re almost excited for your upcoming patrol, and the extended distraction it’ll provide.

It’s the evening of Sunday, January 14th, 2035. The sky is clear for once, the sun has started setting behind the mountains, casting Jackson in frigid twilight. You’re speed walking towards town hall, the icy wind piercing right through your coat, chilling you to the bone. Your scarf is pulled up to your nose, the flaps of your trapper hat down and tied, thick mittens protecting your hands. You reach the building in record time, its short clock tower illuminated. You pull the heavy door and get in, a gust of warmth from the heating blasted at maximum immediately relieving. The room is spacious, cosy, with a stone hearth at the back where a fire is crackling, chairs stacked in a corner, and a long table with a tall thermos of chicory coffee and some cups strewn about. You go up to the large rolling bulletin board standing in the middle of the room, where various organisational documents for the community are pinned. A handful of survivors are already gathered around it. One of them, a teenager with a long black braid, olive skin and sharp features (Tina? Or something similar), is adding a flyer to it, advertising her services to shovel pathways for trade. Brave move. You greet the group and look over to the patroller’s duty roster for the week. You’ve set for Hoback Pass, tomorrow, with Astrid. You spot Joel’s name on the list; he’s with Tommy, as usual, for Teton Village, at the end of the week. No chance of overlap.

Good. Great. Wonderful.

You don’t stay around much longer; you need to prepare for the next day’s run. Astrid likes to get an early start, and she’ll want to plan strict routes before leaving. You’ve forgiven her for snitching on what she saw you do at New Year’s Eve; she was drunk too, and she hasn’t mentioned it since. Max must have convinced her she hallucinated it, for your sake. So you go back out into the cold, empty streets, now plunged in darkness.

You met Astrid when she arrived in Jackson around three years ago, along with Fred. The two are like siblings; after the outbreak, they were raised in a small settlement in the Eastern Idaho forest. The group had left camp when resources were becoming scarce, travelling south in hopes of finding a new safe haven. Upon reaching Jackson, the two women were the only ones left alive. You don’t know the exact circumstances in which they lost their loved ones, but the reality is all too familiar to most people in this world. At least these two still have each other. You weren’t so lucky with that. Sometimes, when you look at them, you can’t help but get a glimpse of a future you were cruelly robbed of. In these instances, you’re hit with a burning, gut-wrenching pang of jealousy. You try not to dwell on it; it’s a useless sentiment and it’s impossible to get her back.

You jog up to your house a few minutes later. After a quick dinner, you put together your pack, checking items off a mental list: canteen, munitions, a few rations, first aid kit, flint rod, rope, hand-crank radio… You’re sharpening your knife, sitting at the dining room table, when you’re interrupted by a knock. You cross the hallway, puzzled, and undo the chain to crack open the front door. Tommy’s standing on the other side, bouncing on the spot, rapid breaths coming out in white volutes.

“Uh, hey,” you say, surprised to see him there.

“Hey,” he replies, “sorry to bother you this late.”

“Oh, it’s fine. What’s up?” You ask, giving him a tight-lipped smile. You’ve known Tommy ever since you first came to Jackson. He’s the patrol chief; the one who teached you at your beginnings on the job. You like him as a leader; he’s fair, direct, dependable, and he’s got a sense of humour. He’s a good balance to Maria, who can be a bit too stern at times.

“Uh, well, it’s about your patrol tomorrow. I know you’re supposed to go with Astrid, but I’m gonna have to send her to train Jesse instead,” he explains, talking fast.

Jesse is the newest recruit. He’s a determined, strong young man who joined in late November, just as he turned eighteen, the required age for patrolling. He’s gone out with Astrid on practice runs a couple times before; she had volunteered to mentor him.

You furrow your brows. “Oh. Alright, sure, that’s okay. Uh, you want me to go by myself?”

“Uh, no” Tommy answers,“too risky with all the snow. I was gonna send Joel. You guys work well together and he knows Hoback.”

Your stomach drops.

Fuck.

Your expression must have changed noticeably, because Tommy tilts his head, perplexed.

“Somethin’ the matter?” He inquires.

You blink a few times, recovering from the blow. “Uh, yeah. I- I mean no. Just-” you search for the right words, “can’t Astrid do it another day?”

“Not really. We need Jesse ready ASAP. Why? Problem with Joel?” He asks, a hint of concern in his voice.

You pause, wondering whether to tell him the truth. Ultimately, you decide it would just create a bigger problem. “No, no, nevermind. All good,” you lie, averting Tommy’s eyes.

The man doesn’t seem convinced. “Alright… You know, it’s funny. Joel didn’t seem too happy either when I told ´im.”

So he’s been thinking about you too. He remembers. This makes it so much worse. You give a nervous chuckle in response, and attempt a joke. “Is he ever?”

Tommy snorts. “Yeah, you ain’t wrong.” He claps his gloved hands together. “Okay, well, I’ll see you tomorrow morning for briefing then.”

You give him a nod and he imitates you before walking off. You close the door behind him and rest your forehead against the hard surface, banging it a few times. You yell out in frustration. What did you just get yourself into?

That night, you restlessly lay in bed, tossing and turning, your mind racing, agitated, unable to shut itself off. You don’t get any sleep.

Joel doesn’t either.

You’re already exhausted by the time you’re out of the door the next morning, right at sunrise, which just intensifies your terrible mood. You stride down the street towards Jackson’s main gate, in full winter gear, pack hanging off a shoulder. The town is a muted grey, misty; a few snowflakes are slowly falling from heavy clouds. It matches your emotional state. You’re hoping to be the first one at the stables, giving you time to blow off some steam. But, upon arrival, you discover that the object of your torment has had the same idea. Joel’s saddling his horse, Old Beardy, an imposing black-coated male.

The bastard.

You curse him out in your head, your heartbeat quickening as you approach. You walk past him, heading towards Willow’s enclosure. Neither you nor Joel acknowledges the other. Willow neighs softly when she sees you, and you go to pet her on the nose, hyper aware of the man standing about twenty feet away from you. You quietly tend to your horse for a few minutes, every sound coming from Joel irritating you, before you finally dare steal a glance over at him. Right as you do so, he turns his head back quickly, caught in the act.

So that’s how it’s gonna go, huh?

You tie your pack to a hook on Willow’s saddle, your movements sharp, heated. Once you’re done, you take the horse’s reins and guide her out of the stable, passing by Joel once again; his back tenses as you do so, and you hear him sigh loudly. The feeling’s mutual.

You decide to take Willow for a trot around town while you wait for the other patrollers to show up. You don’t think you could stay there with Joel, in thick silence, pointlessly wondering what it is he’s thinking; it would drive you mad. You come back half an hour later, not an ounce more calm, as Tommy is about to start his report. You make sure to stand as far away from Joel as you can while you listen. The words enter one ear and come out the other; you’re too preoccupied with someone else. You’ve heard the speech a hundred times anyway: stay within sight of your partner, follow the routes, mark the logbooks, come back if you run into something you can’t handle. Once Tommy’s done, he gives the signal for the two townsfolk on guard duty to crank open the gate. You stick your right foot in the stirrup and hoist yourself up on Willow’s back, positioning yourself on the saddle. You let the other patrol team go first, staying behind, immobile, side by side with Joel. You’re not going to make the first move. And he doesn’t either. So you look over at him, and this time, he holds your gaze, fire ablaze in his deep brown eyes. Glowering. Taunting. Scornful. After thirty seconds, Tommy, posted at the wall, yells out to you.

“Guys! What are you waitin’ for? Get goin’!”

Joel capitulates first. He urges Old Beardy forward, not giving you another sight, as you internally scream in victory. You follow behind.

“Have a good one! Stay safe!” One of the guards says, as you pass the threshold. You have to hold yourself back from replying “We won’t.” Joel and you ride out of Jackson.

This day is about to be really fucking unpleasant.

Next chapter

To read on AO3

#tlou fanfiction #joel miller x you #joel miller x reader #the last of us #joel tlou #pedro pascal

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chbnews · 2 months

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hello, my name's astrid!

i'm new here and i just wanna ask why on earth do you have to break someone's heart as a rite of passage in the aphrodite cabin?

i'm a daughter of aphrodite and i think that little tradition is quite barbaric. i mean, do i want to get my heart broken? no. so why the hell would i do it to someone else just for my mother to be proud of me? and, love isn't just that. love is universal, therefore, not only applies to romantic love.

Hello Astrid!! I don’t know why it is, it’s an outdated tradition that most (not all) cabin 10 members do it so Aphrodite doesn’t purposely break up (or otherwise ruin) their relationships. I’ve seen it happen a couple times throughout the years I’ve been at camp. Though there are a couple reasons why this tradition exists.

Aphrodite is most known for only romantic love (in turn her son is known for sexual love) I’m not sure about the other 2 (familial and platonic I believe but I might be wrong).

BUT also this breaking of hearts could be a reference to her relationship with Hephaestus (her cheating on him with Ares) (and in turn showing allegiance to their mother by doing the ‘rite of passage’

In conclusion, it could be many reason why people do it. Some for fear of their mother, some for an allegiance to their mother or reflecting their mothers role in the Greek godhood society or whatever - 🧶Buck from Cabin 18🧶

#sorry guys I nerded out for a sec 😔#pjo #pjo hoo toa #pjo news #pjo fandom #pjo asks #pjo cabins #pjo spoilers #pjo series #pjo blog #pjo tv show

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jeanvanjer · 2 years

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The more I see/hear things from the majority of the team behind Bridgerton the more its obvious that they have no idea what they're talking about when it comes to the genre/culture.

I understand the outrage people are having over Shonda's words. There has been a bit of a weird negative angle to the teams outlook on Kate sometimes (when really she did nothing wrong. she did one thing wrong ONE but thats it). Its sus that the woc get this weird angle played into their narratives by the team and certain characters are lauded as girlbosses.

But to me this in particular its just funny af because its not that deep people and they just come across as idiots. Shonda and co trying to act like they know what they're talking about when it comes to Regency culture and social norms when they've probably haven't even bothered with reading a couple of wiki pages.

This is one of those moments where someone tries to act like they know something, and they act like they know it reaaaally well, but it comes out horrible because I get what she’s trying to say but since she doesn’t get the now vs. then culture and even worse (imo) the “riding astride” trope in the HR genre it sounds slut shamey because, yeah it is slut shamey, but they're applying those words and this logic to a situation where its not applicable. Its like calling the men on the show rakes when they really aren't.

I'm not even mad about the whore comment because it just makes no sense? especially when there's no back up in the actual writing of the S2. She only rides her horse astride in private settings. And its only Mary's supposed scandal that presents a threat to anything and thats magically solved by QC choosing Edwina as her diamond. Portia and co make a comment on Mary and nothing is ever said by anyone other than Grandma Sheffield and LW about Kate in a negative light thats socially detrimental in any way.

The most anyone would think is "wow she's not like the other girls 😒" or a hellion and thats it? I also dont think the viewers would even clock it as otherly behavior, especially the GA. Those who know about the whole "riding astride" thing will also not overthink it to that extreme? Like thats a huge leap in logic babes 😂

Also Shonda when and how would hookers learn to ride a horse??? How would they have accessed those lessons???

Also painting Kate out as this scandalous wanton whore over riding astride is so funny to me since she nearly unalived herself over ONE orgasm. ONE.

Also hilarious is the fact that Kate riding astride makes Shonda feel scandalized but Daphne assaulting her husband didnt??

#Bridgerton #maybe Ill add more?#or not #but yeah #i really do think its not that deep and its mostly them talking out of their asses and pretending to know what theyre talking about #while using really horrible words to express it #and ffs either fully commit to modernity in Bridgerton or completely adhere to the morality and conservatism of the time #anyways Shonda and co saying all this crap wont change the minds of those who get HR and more importantly get Kate.

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dwarrowdelf · 1 year

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moonlight and starlight (chapter one)

Rating: M | No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Elrond/Gil-galad, Elrond & Gil-galad, Elrond/Celebrían Word count: 2.2k

Until, rather suddenly, he does.

Read here on AO3.

(Using @silmsmutweek as an excuse to get over my hangups about posting smut on main. The first part, available on AO3 at the above link or under the read more break, fits best with day two, and the upcoming second part fits best with day four.)

There were only two people Elrond had ever wanted to take to bed, and after losing both of them in turn, any such desire seemed to have left him entirely. Even now in Valinor, with both of his loves returned to him, after months and years of waking next to them such that most mornings he can nearly forget what it was like to wake alone, he feels no craving for anything beyond holding and being held. Celebrían and Gil-galad accept this new fact of him, and though Elrond has assured them that he wouldn’t begrudge them taking their pleasure with each other or elsewhere entirely, he doesn’t know if they have ever actually done so.

They three find plenty joy in simpler intimacies, now: holding hands, lounging together with heads in laps or limbs tangled, Gil-galad’s regular insistence on tending their hair, Celebrían’s habit of stealing their shirts, Elrond’s catlike tendency to place himself in whatever space they’re in as if by coincidence.

Which is why it’s such a surprise when Elrond one day is watching Celebrían at her vanity getting ready for a party and is suddenly overcome with the desire to put his hands on her waist where it’s accentuated by the cut of her dress, to put his mouth on the curve of her neck as she pins her hair up. He’s so caught off guard by it that he stands there frozen until Gil knocks on the doorframe to ask if they’re ready and the opportunity has passed.

A few days later, he watches Gil-galad spar with Glorfindel and finds himself unable to look away from his partner’s broad shoulders and the play of muscles in his strong back. When they finish the round, Elrond’s eyes track a bead of sweat as it slips down his friend’s bare chest, and he’s so inexplicably flustered that he turns tail and retreats to the library.

He doesn’t understand why he is so flustered. Celebrían is his wife of three thousand years, and Gil was his lover for nearly that long. Attraction to them is not a new experience for Elrond, and yet after centuries without, he finds himself at a loss. He feels shy, like he did in the years before he gained the courage to court Celebrían, off-balance as he was before he learned that his attraction to Gil-galad was not one-sided. Too, this return of his desire is something that feels private, something he wants to hoard until he’s ready to share it. The little moments continue and build, until one day for the first time in nearly six hundred years Elrond takes himself in hand. He finds his release to the thought of Celebrían astride his lap and the half-remembered feeling of Gil inside him, imagining that his own hand on his chest is one of theirs.

Some time after, Elrond is starting to feel — if not comfortable as he was before, then at least brave enough to make an overture. Celebrían is away visiting her parents, and so it is just Elrond and Gil-galad. Gil had coaxed him to lay with his head in his lap, and now is idly braiding and unbraiding his hair. Elrond is trying to relax, not quite dozing, but every now and then Gil’s nails scratch just so on his scalp, or he’ll tug lightly at a lock of hair, and it’s doing things to him. Eventually, he reaches up and grabs one of Gil’s hands, bringing it down to press a kiss to his knuckles, and then to each fingertip, and then the palm.

“Elrond?” his friend asks, surprised but not confused. Elrond had never developed any sort of ability to openly proposition either of his partners even after millennia together, but both of them in turn had learned his tells. He brings Gil’s hand to cup his face, and the thumb just brushes against Elrond’s lip.

He presses another kiss to it and looks up imploringly to meet Gil-galad’s eyes, which are warm and darker than usual. “May I kiss you, my star?” he asks softly, carefully, and Elrond answers by surging up to meet him.

They kiss for quite a while. Gil, shorter but broader than Elrond, hefts him up into his lap and promptly diverts his attention to Elrond’s neck, making him throw his head back with a gasp. And then somehow Gil is laying down on the cushions with Elrond over him, and at some point both of them have lost their shirts, and Elrond is eagerly sucking a bruise onto Gil’s collar. Gil’s hips push up to meet Elrond’s, and it’s only then that he realizes both of them are hard.

Elrond pulls back, looks at Gil-galad with his well-kissed lips and color high on his cheeks, the warmth in his eyes as he reaches up to tuck Elrond’s hair behind his ear. “I—” Elrond starts, and falters. Looks away. He’s frustrated with himself, and he doesn’t want to be.

Gil-galad smiles softly up at him. “Elrond,” he coaxes. “If all we do today is kiss, it is enough. If all you ever want again is to kiss, it will be enough. If you do not ever want to kiss me again, it has been enough. Just being with you is enough for me; anything else you wish to share is a pleasant bonus.”

Elrond makes a noise low in his throat and bends down to hide his face in the crook of Gil’s neck. “I don’t know what I want,” he confesses. “It’s been so long, and I—”

Gil’s arms wrap around him, and Elrond melts into the embrace gladly. He says, “Let’s stop here for today. There’s nothing saying we can’t do this again later.”

Elrond mumbles an agreement. Gil shifts them around so they’re pressed together on the couch rather than on top of each other, and they stay that way until Erestor comes to get them for supper.

———

For the duration of Celebrían’s trip, Elrond tries to be… well, handsy. It’s something he never really got to be with Gil, their own senses of propriety and a lack of truly private places working against them in that regard. With Celebrían, though, once they were finally wed… oh, Elrond couldn’t keep his hands off of her. He does that with Gil-galad now.

And it is not always in a provocative way. But if Gil-galad is in the library pondering what book he ought to read next, there is no reason now that Elrond can’t come up behind him and wind his arms around his waist, hook his chin over his shoulder. There is nothing to stop him from trailing the backs of his fingers along Gil’s arm, from tangling their fingers together at the end and leading his friend into a few seconds of a dance to make him laugh before letting go and carrying on his way.

There is nothing to stop him from watching Gil-galad spar again with heated eyes, nothing to stop him from leading him sedately away from the courtyard until they are well out of sight, and nothing at all to stop him from yanking Gil into a rarely-used storage room and sinking to his knees.

“Would you like me to return the favor?” Gil asks some time later, still mildly breathless and no less sweaty.

Elrond merely smiles and kisses his cheek. “This is enough,” he replies. Then, teasingly, “For now.”

He leaves Gil gaping open-mouthed after him as he exits the storage room, and feels quite pleased with himself.

———

Artanáro Ereinion, called Gil-galad, has, by his own admission, no interest at all in romance, and particularly not in marriage. This does not mean, however, that he has no interest in love, nor in the so-called marriage act.

He had considered himself spectacularly lucky, in Lindon, to have found Elrond, or for Elrond to have found him. Gil-galad had been wary, at first, not only of Elrond having the wrong idea, but of the potential to abuse his position as the High King. He needn’t have worried, as it turned out, since someone had apparently raised Elrond not to shy away from difficult conversations.

(“I can’t love you the way everyone else loves,” he had confessed one evening after Elrond had gotten fed up with the way they’d circled one another back then.

“But you love me?” Elrond had asked, head tilted ever so slightly and fingers twitching out a song on his knee, a combination of behaviors that always had Galadriel pursing her lips and looking away.

“How could I not?” Gil-galad had responded helplessly, and Elrond had smiled at him so brilliantly, and that had been that.)

That had been five hundred sixty-two years into the Second Age, a little over a century after Elros’s death. Their relationship, a suitable word for which did not exist in any language Gil-galad knew, had gone on for the near twenty-nine hundred years until his rather, ah, toasty death at the hands of Sauron. He had not regretted his death except for the fact that it necessitated him leaving Elrond, and his only hope had been that one of their friends would finally push Elrond or Celebrían to act on their pining. Elrond did not do well being alone.

And now, after three thousand and some years apart, Elrond is with him again. He’ll confess, in the privacy of his own mind, to feeling some measure of disappointment when it had become clear that Elrond no longer held any interest in any sort of amorous activities, but just having Elrond here with him is enough. As he had said, anything else Elrond wanted to share with him was a pleasant bonus.

Gil-galad is regretting that statement.

Elrond rediscovering his desire is nothing less than a menace to Gil’s hard-won self control, and Celebrían isn’t even here for him to foist Elrond off on so he can have a moment alone to reign in the ever-building desire to bear Elrond down onto the nearest bed. In Lindon, they’d never had much time for teasing and touching (or rather, they’d never had the security). Now, teasing and touching is all Elrond wants to do, and specifically he wants to do it to Gil. Nevermind that Gil-galad loves to touch as much as he loves being touched, such that they once used to take turns tying each other up to see how frustrated the other would get at not being allowed to touch his partner.

Still, Gil-galad is determined to take this new path at whatever pace Elrond wishes to take it, which is why he is currently jerking himself off in the privacy of the bath, rather than any of the other myriad things he would like to do that all involve Elrond.

Who chooses that moment to step into the room, because of course he does. Both of them freeze, though unfortunately for Gil-galad it is still obvious what he was just doing. They stare at each other for a long moment.

“…Don’t stop on my account,” Elrond finally says, soft and intent. He watches Gil-galad with those dark eyes of his until Gil relents, eyes closing as his head leans back against the tub and he resumes his task. If he moves a little more leisurely, with a little more flair — well. Who could blame him for wanting to put on a show for his lover?

He hears movement and shifting fabric, but pays it no mind until Elrond is suddenly stepping into the bath with him. Gil’s eyes fly open, shocked.

The tub is not all that large — one typically goes to a bath house for that — and so Elrond winds up kneeling astride his legs, and he cups Gil-galad’s face in his hands. “My star,” he says with a soft little smile, the sort that Gil-galad always wants to kiss.

“Can I touch you?” Gil-galad asks, somewhat desperate, and when Elrond nods his assent, Gil’s own arousal becomes entirely secondary to the task of rememorizing every inch of Elrond’s skin. He has a few more scars, but not many, and the calluses on his hands are different: the ones from writing and healing more pronounced and the ones from swordfighting less so. The lines on his face are a little deeper, his hairline has receded slightly in a way Gil recalls seeing on Men, and there are silver strands threading that dark hair at the temples. Peredhil, in Gil-galad’s experience, are always susceptible to the wear of stress and time, even those that have chosen the path of Elves. Luckily, he thinks all of these little changes have only made Elrond all the more dashing.

“Gorgeous,” he says aloud, just to see that blush against Elrond’s tan skin. “You grow more beautiful every day, my star.”

“You flatter me, my star,” Elrond demures.

“Not flattery if it’s true,” Gil counters, hands coming to settle on Elrond’s hips. “And I know for a fact that Celebrían agrees with me, so it is two against one.”

Elrond’s expression unfurls into a grin at the reminder of his wife, which just makes him all the lovelier. He still sometimes forgets, when one of them is away from the others, that they are not gone forever, still dreams himself alone some nights. Elrond says teasingly, “I’ve faced worse odds,” and leans down to kiss him.

The bath is rather spoiled for the purposes of getting clean, after that, but far be it from Gil-galad to complain.

#sorry for the repost event mods! im trying to figure out how i want to format ao3 crossposts #silmsmutweek #mine #fic #silm #nsft #shipping #elrond #gil-galad #celebrian

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dragonmasterhiccup · 2 months

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She didn’t know how to respond to that, mainly because she didn’t know if he was trying to hurt her. The small bit of rationality left in her was telling her ‘of course he doesn’t want to hurt you, he’s helping you’, but the rest of her mind, that was clouded by so much pain and anguish was trying to make sense on how this much pain could be considered ‘helping.’

She was so scared, she knew what was coming the moment Hiccup held her down. Oh, she hated being held down, taking away the freedom to literally move a certain part of her body was terrifying.

She reached over with her other hand, trying to pry Hiccup’s hand off her shoulder before Gothi could pull the arrows out but was unable to, as Gothi had quickly and suddenly ripped both the arrows out from her arm.

Danny bit down on her hand, biting back a scream as best as she could, letting out sobs of pain instead. Gods, she didn’t know what hurt worse, her leg or this. She could feel the arrows digging through her arm, pulling on her muscles.

Her vision was becoming blurry and spotted, and she couldn’t think clearly due to the sheer amounts of agonizing pain. She was trying so hard not to black out again, she didn’t want to wake up once again to nothing but even more pain.

Gothi worked quickly and diligently, applying the same paste that she used for her leg before taking two separate cloths and tying them around each of the wounds before stepping back, signaling that she was finished.

As soon as Gothi stepped back, Danny immediately went back to scratching at Hiccup’s hand, trying to get him to let her go.

He kept his hands steady, despite her clawing at them. He kept his eyes shut, knowing he couldn't look, it would only make him feel worse.

He stayed in place, flinching when he heard Gothi pull the arrows out. He did open his eyes a few minutes later, only to know when to let go.

It took him a moment to register that Gothi was done, that he could let go. Danny clawing at his hand again brought him back to his senses.

"So...what happens now?"

That was when the door burst open. "Hiccup! Hiccup, are you alright?" Astrid rushed over to him, concern on her face. "I couldn't find you, so I figured you were just out flying, but then I saw Toothless out there, and--" She saw the blood on Hiccup's hands and armor, she saw Danny behind him, and she took a breath. "Hiccup, what happened?"

He looked over at Gothi. "Can you take it from here?"

She nodded, and he brought Astrid outside the hut. He explained everything, from their argument in the stables yesterday to right before Astrid came in.

"Hiccup...you can't blame yourself for this. She made a choice, and these are the consequences. This is not your fault."

"I told her to go, so I think it precisely is my fault. If I hadn't said that, she wouldn't have run, she wouldn't have been attacked, she wouldn't be in there, crying and begging for the pain to stop. This is on me!"

Astrid laid a hand on his shoulder. "No, it's not. We could play the blame game all day, but this is not on you. You did everything you could. If you hadn't found her when you did, she would've died from her choices. Hiccup... stop blaming yourself. You can't be responsible for everything that happens to everyone on Berk." She paused. "You need to forgive yourself, and just help where you can."

He nodded, eyes down. "You have a point, Astrid. I'm sorry, I'm not quite myself right now, she--she's in pretty bad shape. Worse shape than when we rescued her from those hunters. Gothi hasn't answered me, she won't tell me if she'll be alright."

Astrid then wrapped her arms around Hiccup, giving him a hug. He blinked, then hugged her back, burying his face in her shoulder.

After a few minutes , she pulled away. "She just needs time to figure that out. Stay out here, get some fresh air for a little while, I'll go in and give Gothi a hand. I'll come and get you when Gothi says is best, okay?"

Hiccup nodded, giving her a quick kiss on the forehead. "Thanks, Astrid."

She then went inside, offering to help Gothi with whatever was needed.

#asks #tallestgrace

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howtowhumpyourhiccup · 11 months

Text

Focus

Summary: Written for AI-less Whumptober 2023 Day 28. Set in my Magic AU. A successful spell of any kind requires concentration, something Hiccup lacks. Unfortunately, when he finds his focus, it’s on the wrong thing entirely.

Warning: /

Rating: Teen and Up

Characters: Hiccup, Snotlout, Astrid, Ruffnut, Tuffnut, Fishlegs, Viggo

Pairing: Slight Hiccstrid, Slight Vigcup

Words: 1 708

Fandom: How to Train Your Dragon

Prompt: Oxygen Deprivation, Sweating

Whumpee: Snotlout, Hiccup

Author’s Notes: Honestly love writing for this AU. And glad to add some Snotlout whump to this year's AI-less Whumptober!

Enjoy!

@ailesswhumptober

XOXOX

For as long as he’s been here, Viggo has been a mystery to Hiccup and he figures he always will be. One moment, the man has all the patience in the world for him and seeks to tutor him personally. The next, Hiccup is a stain on his existence. It’s a confusing dynamic that they have, one he doesn’t appear to have with anyone else in this castle.

“Take something and focus your magic for once in your life. Try the spinning top, maybe a child’s toy will finally help you grasp the basics!

Clearly, Viggo has never met an actual child before. But it is the reason why he had to go all the way down into the dungeon- now a place where artifacts and other nick-nacks are stored- to grab a child’s toy that hasn’t seen the light since the 1800s to practice his focus on. Because the key to a successful enchantment is focus, something Hiccup severely lacks. He blames the neurodivergency.

It’s lunchtime, but instead of taking a break, he’s taken the toy with him to the dining hall, where he sits at the table and, in every sense of the word, embarrasses himself in front of his newfound friend group.

“Oh, come on! Work with me here!” Hiccup moans in annoyance as he spins it only to watch it come to a slow stop, dashing whatever little hope he has. The point is to keep it spinning. Spinning, spinning, spinning, and spinning, for however long his concentration lasts. Endless motion.

Snotlout snickers. “This is just painful.”

Astrid kicks him underneath the table, he jumps and spills his soup. Ruffnut protests loudly when some of it splashes onto her pile of sandwiches.

“Maybe you’re not saying it correctly?” Fishlegs gently offers.

“Uh, Mr. Amazing over there? Mr. I’m-Awesome-At-Everything-I-Do? I thought he didn’t need to incant stuff?” Snotlout comes again as he uses his one napkin to clean it up. “No magic outside of class,” Viggo always says, but he’s pretty sure that rule only applies to him and the twins.

“Maybe you lack intent?” Astrid offers.

“I’m not sure what other intent besides “spin you stupid thing!” I can give it. I’m intenting the crap out of it! I’m going to be stuck at the basics forever,” Hiccup deflates.

Snotlout snickers again. “All the power in the world, still sucks.”

“Don’t you have soup to clean up?!” Astrid asks him, arms crossing.

“Uh, and who’s the reason I have soup to clean up?”

“Just go grab more napkins. Maybe it’s your unbelievably loud slurping that keeps distracting him,” she crosses her arms and Snotlout sends her a glare.

But it’s true. Partially. Hiccup can’t focus in the dining hall, but he couldn’t focus in the classroom either. There was this fly that kept buzzing around the room, coming close and then flying out of reach. His senses have always felt like they’re dialed up to 11, that’s just how his brain works, but it’s ten times worse when he’s trying to focus his magic on anything.

Hiccup brings his attention back on the top. Instead of spinning it beforehand, he lets it lie and tries to make it move that way. His fingers press against his temples, elbows on the table, as he glares at it as if it’ll help.

But the table doesn’t remain quiet, Snotlout gives him a glare and snickers before Astrid kicks him.

“Maybe it’s your nagging.”

“Maybe it’s your face!”

“Maybe you should just shut up, Snotlout! As a matter of fact, stop breathing! Just stop breathing in my general direction so I can finally concentrate!” Hiccup snaps at only one arguing half. It’s true that Snotlout’s constant slurping was also throwing him off. He knows he was doing it on purpose, he likes to make things hard for him.

Hiccup focuses back on the top, willing it to spin, but still nothing happens. He doesn’t understand why. He can feel the magic in his veins thrilling, reacting to his command, so why won’t the top just do as he asks?

“Hey-” Astrid comes.

“Astrid, not now,” what if he just glares really hard? Maybe that will help.

“No, seriously, you need to stop.”

“And I need every noise in the world to stop.”

“H-man, look at what you’re doing!” Tuffnut comes, sitting directly across from Snotlout.

“No, look!” Fishlegs yells and Hiccup just barely avoids a soup bowl thrown at his head.

Now standing, he looks at Snotlout to find his hands around his throat in a struggle. He makes no sound as he’s not getting any air. He’s not even choking, he’s simply not breathing.

“Hey, come on, man! Stop!” Ruffnut yells at him, also rising to her feet.

“I-I-I’m- I’m not-”

“Yes, you are!” Astrid states as she stands and grabs Hiccup’s hands. “Come on, you can do this. Just break your hold on him.”

“What do you mean “just break my hold on him?” I have no idea how I’m even doing this!” Comes Hiccup’s panicked reply.

In a frenzy, Snotlout jumps up from his seat and slams a fist on the table. He looks like he’s trying to make his lungs work, but it’s as if they’ve forgotten how to. Others in the dining hall watch them, whispering.

“Come on, Snotlout, breathe. Just breathe,” Fishlegs comes over and throws an arm around him. Ruffnut stands on his other side while Tuffnut kneels in front.

“Just do what we do!” He says as he and his sister breathe in and out in an exaggerated manner.

“None of that will help! The spell needs to be broken!”

Hiccup looks at each of his friends, panic causing his heart to race. He can’t focus, he can’t break anything.

And there Astrid goes, out the door. Saying something about Viggo, she bolts as fast as her athletic legs can carry her.

“Come on, man! You’re the one doing this!” One knows they’ve messed up when even Tuffnut is seriously mad.

“I don’t know what I’m doing!” He yells, hands in his hair.

Snotlout’s face turns a deep blue, he pounds on his own chest, but still his lungs won’t work. In Fishlegs’ arms he goes limp.

“Snotlout, no!” he yells, holding him up. All Hiccup can do is watch on in horror. “Hiccup, just stop!”

Hurried footsteps enter the dining hall. A large hand settles on Hiccup’s forehead from behind, the owner mutters an incantation about sleep, and his consciousness fades. Eyes rolling back, legs going limp, Viggo catches the young man and gently lowers him to the floor.

A dramatic gasp fills the dining hall, Snotlout finally takes his first breathe in what feels like an eternity. Without the strength to stand on his own two feet, he hangs onto Fishlegs sluggishly, barely conscious himself. Relief sweeps through the hall.

“Now would someone be so willing to tell me what in the Hell happened here?” Viggo is beyond angry, as he usually is whenever something of this magnitude goes wrong.

No one answers simply because they don’t know how to. They were eating, there was some banter and arguing, and the next thing they know Hiccup was passively choking the life out of Snotlout.

Viggo breathes through his teeth, realizing that his students don’t quite know how to answer that.

“Fools, all of you,” he mutters before taking off his dark blue vest to fold up and place beneath Hiccup’s head. It shouldn’t take too long for him to wake up.

Fishlegs helps Snotlout sit on a chair as he catches his breath. His lungs are burning, his body is weak, and the most terrible headache he’s ever experienced pounds inside his skull.

“He was… trying to kill me!” He gasps, a hand still on his chest.

“He wasn’t trying to kill you,” Viggo bites back at him. He was nose deep in a book when Astrid came bursting into his room and disturbed his peace.

“Sir, what did happen?” Astrid asks. She figures they’re all dying to know. How could Hiccup just enchant Snotlout like that and how did his hold on him not break? He was panicking just as much as the rest of them, probably even more so.

“Isn’t it obvious?” Viggo asks. “Our dear friend focused his magic on the wrong target. And instead of breaking his hold, his panic strengthened it.”

In a way, it makes sense, or so they suppose. Heavy emotions can make or break a spell.

“Take Snotlout to the infirmary. I’ll wait for him to awaken,” their mentor orders, referring to Hiccup, and they listen. While Fishlegs and Tuffnut take their shaken friend away, Astrid and Ruffnut are urged to follow. Astrid shoots a glance at Hiccup behind her.

In time, the entire dining hall runs empty of guests, leaving just the two of them.

It takes a couple of minutes longer, but Hiccup eventually comes to. He’s understandably sluggish as he awakens from a brief sleep put upon him by magical means.

“Viggo?” He’s confused to see him at first, but as the events preceding his passing out return to him, he sits up in a hurry.

“Snotlout! What-what happened to him? Is he- is he okay?!” He asks his mentor, who raises a hand to silence him.

“Snotlout was taken to the infirmary, but I suspect he’ll make a full recovery. You have nothing to worry about,” he assures him.

Hiccup sighs and pulls his knees up, settling his elbows on them and a hand in his hair. He wouldn’t exactly say that he has nothing to worry about. He almost killed Snotlout! By accident!

Viggo lays a hand on his shoulder and once again he’s showing a side to him that the others don’t get to see much. Or at all.

“You’ll learn to control it,” there’s almost confidence in his statement, but Hiccup isn’t sure how that will ever happen.

“Sure, like I haven’t been trying to learn my entire life,” he mutters as he rises to his feet. Viggo watches him leave, expression unreadable. The dining hall behind him, Hiccup retreats to his room, unsure how he’s going to face anyone ever again.

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cheerleaderman · 4 months

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Astrid rambles

-Astrid’s adoptive mother doesn’t view him as a person but more of an extension of Odette. Since Odette leaves a rose after she curses someone Astrid is her last “ cursed rose”

-Despite not loving his mother any more he is still grateful for what she has given him

- Is very good at using magic in a survival sense but struggles with practical

-Used to have long hair before coming to NRC but cut it claiming he was afraid of getting his hair pulled in a fight like what he seen in the orphanage. The main reason is when he looked in the mirror he saw Odette and not himself

-savannaclaw and Scarabia are Astrid’s safe places (he’s barely at his own dorm)

- If it wasn’t for his uniform people would have thought he was part of Savannaclaw

- Has trouble getting emotionally attached to things since he is used to getting his things destroyed

-Has great magical abilities just doesn’t know how to apply it

-Will hold on his plans to travel until after he graduates uni

- Will out live the people he cares about

-Found sleeping in the most random places at Savannaclaw or Scarabia that are hidden

-“Don’t worry I’m used to it”

-Has a scar on his torso but doesn’t remember how he got it

- Him and Odette do have similar magical abilities

-Says that the orphanage is just as chaotic as NRC

-After learning the truth about why he was taken in he changed from “I love you too mom” to “I love you just as much as you love me”

- Has been saving the money he gets from his family for his exit

-does get therapy

-Gets taken in by one of his friends family (slowly but steadily)

-Would wonder if Odette was alive would she have loved him

-his dorm room is pretty bare not personalized or anything and next to Sliver’s

-His Birthday is not his actual birthday but the day he ran away. First year he ran from his birthday party because he was scared/overwhelmed ,Lilia went to go get him (He is actually a Pieces)

-when asked if Astrid ever wanted revenge on his mother he replied that him leaving never to be seen again is his revenge.

-Last thing he said to his mother was thanking her for all that she’s done for him giving her pink roses before disappearing for good

#cheer!rambles #cheer!astrid #twst oc #twisted wonderland oc #oc lore #oc stuff

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countrymusiclover · 2 years

Text

38 - The Worst Versions of Ourselves

Part 39

His Golden Princess

@lostweasleychild @fanficismydrug @misskitty1912-blog @drakoneve @lover-of-books-and-tea

The Snow Queen had created her curse that was connected to her mirror that I had discovered in her cave. Since everyone in town is freaking out about this new curse we haven’t had time to even talk about what I saw. There was no way I would’ve become the Dark One because I would never kill Rumple to get to that option. Rumple and I were walking towards his shop with me nervously holding my growing stomach. I was only a few weeks pregnant. “So you...You can keep the spell out?” I asked him simply.

“No, but we must be separated. As Dark One, I may be immune to the spell, but you can still hurt me. Go inside and stay in the back room. I'm gonna seal it with a protection spell so no one can get to you.” Rumple explained unlocking the shop door letting me inside first.

While he shuts the door behind himself I turn on my heels facing him. “The Dark One can’t be affected. Can that same thing apply if we share a heart?”

“Typically people don’t share a heart, Astrid. So I don’t have enough history to determine if that could work. I think it is a much safer bet that you and I are separated until the spell is over.” He pointed his index finger towards me.

Leaning my back against one of the glass countertops arms crossing over my chest. “Another possibility could be that if you remove a heart then it can’t affect their emotions because they won’t be able to love. That’s why Cora ripped out her own heart with you. So technically if we removed my heart from my chest then the Queen's spell won’t come after me.”

“Astrid, wait.” He warned me when I started to reach inside my chest and take out my heart with my magic but he made me pause. “There’s no true possibility that you can even survive when you remove half of my heart from your chest.”

“My parents share a heart just like we do-“ He cuts me off.

“Your parents are the creators of the two saviors and products of true love. Yet that doesn’t mean that we are exactly like them. A person needs a heart to live, it stops you die.” He shook his head back with a scoff taking one long step towards me gently looping our hand with my right. “Look, I... I'll be back soon, and then we're gonna be together and we're gonna be fine. I promise.”

Closing my eyes I nodded letting him simply leave the room putting up a protection spell. Watching him walk down the street I spun around heading into the back room pressing my right hand inside my chest gasping. Holding the heart in my hand I waved my hand over it securely locking it away in the safe behind the painting. “Sorry Rumple. But I have to help my family and I can’t do that if I’m locked up.” Pressing my hands against the door I release a deep breath managing to undo the spell that he had placed.

Exiting out the door o headed towards the police station seeing Elsa and a woman with brown hair in braids except for one strand of her hair being white. My sister noticed me standing in the doorway holding our baby brother Neal in her arms. “Astrid, you shouldn’t be here. It’s not safe for you.”

“It’s alright, Em. I uh…took my heart out of my chest so I think I will be good.” I stuttered on my words, eyeing my parents when dad tosses me the key, having me lock them each inside their own cells.

My sister gives me a nervous glance. “I don't know what's gonna happen. I don't know how long it's gonna last. I don't know what's gonna happen to me. I mean, what if... What if you starve to death in there?”

“No, Emma, you're gonna fix this thing, and then you're gonna come back and save us.” Mom told us both.

“We believe in you.” Dad added on.

Mom explained looking between the two of us. “Please. Now you know Henry's in a safe place, and Regina and the others can take care of themselves.”

“What about the baby?” I asked, stepping closer to them figuring that someone would have to look after our little brother until this whole curse was broken and all.

Dad shook his head at me gently gripping the green metal bars. “No, don't worry. Neal won't be with us.

Emma questions not really sure what they were saying. “Who's gonna take him?”

“You are.” Mom replied. “We don't fear your magic, Emma. It's what's gonna allow you to take on the Snow Queen and win.

Dad smiled, remaining hopefully that my older sister could actually save us like we always do. “And when you do, you'll be right back here unlocking these doors.”

Our mother declared. “We trust you. And Henry's right. You are special, and you are going to use that specialness and save both of you.”

Elsa smiled at me and my sister looking over to the woman who was standing closely beside her. “You have wonderful parents, Emma and you too Astrid. “

“Thanks. Now, um who is this. I don’t think we’ve met. I’m Astrid, Astrid Gold.” Extending my hand the other woman smiled back.

She shakes my hand before there was a rumble outside meaning the curse was getting closer to coming over the town. “I’m Anna, Elsa’s sister. It’s nice to meet you.” My sister walked away to talk with Hook before the building rumbled again making me get a literal more concerned.

Snow responded by intertwining her hand with his. “Never let go.”

“Hey. Don't be afraid. You know, we share a heart, and nothing can come between two halves of one heart. These are just precautions. No spell is strong enough to break what we have.” Our father squeezed her hand in his where I could see that he was right. I pray that I am right about my one heart theory. Besides if I was right or wrong Rumple would be angry I undid the protection spell either way.

Glancing up at the ceiling Emma comes over to me where we both ducked our heads attempting to shield our little brother from the shards of glass falling from the sky. It was an hour after when I opened my eyes seeing that my sister and Elsa were gone leaving me alone with baby Neal. Mom sat on the bench inside the cell glaring at dad. “Prince Charming. Finally I'm seeing you clearly. A fraud. A shepherd who has no business being royalty.”

“Well, I see a spoiled little princess who ran away from her troubles, who always runs away!” He raised his voice gripping the cell bars in his hands.

She shouted back. “I can't believe I had a child with you.”

He throws his hands up in the air. “Oh, who knows? Maybe you didn't. Could be Whale's.” Feeling my phone vibrating in my pocket a few times I saw they were from Rumple so I handed my baby brother over to Anna knowing I needed to go see him before he came down here and dragged me back to the shop.

Walking down the street every person on the street was glaring at me preparing for a fight even over the slightest thing. Flinging opened the shop door I saw my husband packing for something and Hook was standing inside the shop. “Well, it's like swimming with sharks out there. The minute one of them tastes blood, they'll tear each other apart.”

“Well, count your blessings you're not one of them.” Rumple spat seeing that I was standing close to the door.

The pirate asked, looking back at me. “Why was I spared the cloud's curse?”

“Because your heart wasn't in your chest, dearie. It was here in my shop with me. In protective custody, so to speak.” Rumple lifted his head with a light scoff moving his head in the opinion direction meaning for me to come talk with him.

Hook asked my husband. “What is it you need, Crocodile?”

“Once I finish packing, I'm gonna take Astrid to the town line. I need you to find Henry and do the same thing.” Rumple shoved a book in a bag then went over to the painting, opening it and grabbing the dagger and a black box where I knew he figured what was inside.

Hook didn’t believe what he was saying to him. “So you still think you're leaving?”

“Oh, ye of little faith. Tomorrow night, when the stars in the sky align with the stars in the hat, I shall finally cleave myself from this dagger and be on the other side of that ice wall before dawn.” Rumple chuckles picking up a small golden circle box that I wasn’t sure exactly what it was.

Holding up my hands I finally entered the conversation. “Are you saying there's a bloody way out of here? That we could get everyone away from the spell if we get them over the ice wall.”

“Dark One always finds a way.” Rumple responded simply.

Hook scoffed, stepping closer to my husband. “Well, if the Dark One is so powerful, why doesn't he magic his grandson to his side?”

“Because that would require me knowing where his mothers have locked him away for safekeeping. Now unless you really, really have no need for that tongue, I suggest you slither back outside into the hostile current and find Henry. You'll be needing this.” Rumple moves around the countertop carrying a small vial of red liquid dust giving it to the pirate.

Hook took it from him exiting out the front door. “You won't win. Villains never do.”

Picking up the golden round box in my hands I turned it over trying to figure out what it was before it opened revealing a blue and purple hat with stars scattered across it. “You lied to me about knowing about the hat. I thought we were past you keeping things from me, Rumple.”:

“And I thought I told you to not take this out of your chest, lass.” He opened the black box revealing my beating red heart picking it up about to put it back inside my chest. Quickly I used my magic drawing the dagger from the counter and into my hands.

“Don’t put it back, Rumple. I don’t want her curse to take over me. I can’t nearly become the Dark one.” I commanded him with the blade where he paused, eyeing the dagger.

His brown eyes shifted to meet my gaze, noticing there was a hint of darkness forming inside of them while my right hand gripped the blade. He could hear the faint voices of the magic he held but there were also some different ones that were new. “Take the power for yourself….you can be stronger than all of them including your sister. Your baby will be viewed as half dark…unless you take the power.”

“Astrid, put the dagger down. I need you to really listen to me, focus on my voice and only my voice alright lass.” He begged me slowly moving forward touching my hand that was clutching the blade until I shuttered, dropping it to the wooden floor.

Gulping down a lump in my throat I put my arms around him while he wrapped his arms around me, eyeing the dagger on the floor at our feet. “Rumple….what do we do…why does the darkness want me…why!”

“Because it wants to snuff out the light, darling. Don’t you worry I won’t let it consume you…I promise.” He whispered into my hair until I told him I was feeling light headed so he helped me lay down on the cot in the back.

Opening my phone I dared to call Anna to see how things were going since I had left her like that. “Hey Anna, how are they?”

She put the phone on speaker so I heard my parents arguing. “I swaddle him perfectly.”

Mom fired back clearly talking about baby Neal. “He's a baby, not a breakfast burrito.”

The sister to our ice queen friend Elsa attempted to make them see reason but there was no point since the curse had its hood on them for the time being. “Stop it. I mean, I have to say I expected more from the two of you. Use your heads. Think back to what it was like before the spell changed you. Sure, you had issues with each other, but they were minor.”

Dad shouted back at the princess making their fairytale meeting like he hated ever meeting her. “Minor? Minor? When I first met her, she hit me in the face. If that wasn't a sign, I don't know what is.”

“Yes, you responded by hanging me in a net from a tree. You're a real prince charming.” Mom sang through a scoff before I just hung up the phone not needing to hear anymore before I tried to get some sleep knowing that my sister would fix the curse at some point.

The next morning when I woke up I heard Hook and Rumple talking outside. "So you failed. At kidnapping a child. The Snow Queen's plan also failed. But mine won't. Enjoy this snowfall, dearie. It'll be your last."

"Then grant me one dying wish." Hook suggested to him.

My husband scoffed while I peeked through the closed tarp. "I'm not in the business of making deals with you anymore."

"Leave Emma and the rest of Storybrooke be. There's no need to harm them." Hook told him to be able to see me listening in.

Rumple walked closer to him resting his hands together in front of himself watchung the pirate leave shortly afterward. "When I step over that town line with my magic intact, Emma and Storybrooke have nothing to fear from me... As long as they don't get in my way. But I can't make that same promise for the rest of the world….you can come out now Astrid. I know you were listening in."

"Well forgive me if I don't entirely trust you to tell me everything anymore." I spat drawing open the curtains walking up to him still seeing the golden box sitting on the counter with the dagger. Picking them both up in each hand it almost felt like darkness was running through the veins of my right arm but I pushed past that. "So this hat can separate the darkness from your heart. It can save your life?"

He nods, taking a step towards me waving his hand creating the box with my heart inside gently picking it up in his freehand. "In theory, yes. Now before we have any more discussion about that let's see about getting this back where it belongs shall we?"

"First I want you to admit that I was right that the curse didn't affect me and I didn't die without my heart." I sent him a warning glare knowing he hated to admit that he was wrong because it was such a rare thing.

Rumple rolled his eyes but gently grabbed my shoulder with his freehand pushing my heart back inside my chest while he admitted. "I was wrong and you were right, my dear."

"What I saw in the Snow Queen's mirror…me becoming the Dark One possibly." I stared down at the dagger only focusing on it now. "Since I am the other savior and product of true love that mirror was right. That it would bring out the worst in a person."

My husband took the box and his blade from my hands so he could rest a hand to my cheek making me look in his deep gaze. "Astrid, you have nothing to fear. Her curse was broken by your sister. So everything is back to normal. Now how are you doing with the baby, anymore worse sickness?”

“It’s been getting better but it’s hard to move around without using magic which sucks for me sometimes. But overall I am fine - agh!” Grabbing my head gently I felt a splitting headache coming on where I stumbled into his arms.

“Astrid!” He gasped, catching my body while I saw a figure of the enchanted forest version of Rumpe standing behind his back.

The figure smirked with me struggling to keep myself awake with Rumple talking in my ear but I couldn’t focus on what he was saying to me at that moment. “Sharing a dark heart isn’t all it is cracked up to be is it, golden princess. You shall join the dark side soon enough.” Gripping his shoulders my eyes fell closed where he lowered me to the floor calling my name.

Comments really appreciated ❤️

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ao3feed-hijack · 2 years

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To Die Laughing

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/8KtF5RS

by That1Notetaker

Berk was a special place that knew no harmony even if it had been hit straight at the face with it, and so, it was that terrible harbingers came in the company of a child’s laughter.

Or:

Hiccup, cursed? It's less likely than one would think. And yet, that's what Berk believes.

The boy doesn't have all that much fun, and laughs even less so, but coincidence makes it so that the few times he has, mishaps have followed. Hiccup thinks there's nothing to do about it, and follows their lead, making himself the butt of the joke until things blow over. His winter friend is having none of it, and an idea forms in place.

Words: 3096, Chapters: 1/2, Language: English

Fandoms: Rise of the Guardians (2012), How to Train Your Dragon (Movies)

Rating: General Audiences

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Categories: Gen, M/M

Characters: Hiccup Horrendous Haddock III, Jack Frost (Guardians of Childhood), Gobber the Belch, Stoick the Vast, Astrid Hofferson, Fishlegs Ingerman, Snotlout Jorgenson, Tuffnut Thorston, Ruffnut Thorston, Lots of Vikings

Relationships: Hiccup Horrendous Haddock III & Jack Frost (Guardians of Childhood), Hiccup Horrendous Haddock III/Jack Frost (Guardians of Childhood)

Additional Tags: Plot? What Plot. Just two guys having fun., Friendship/Love, Best Friends, Romantic Friendship, Fluff and Humor, Attempt at Humor, Banter

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/8KtF5RS

#hijack #frostcup #hijack fanfiction #ao3feed #frostcup fanfiction

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ao3feed-widojest · 2 years

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waltz of four left feet

by tambuli

I don’t think my cause of death will be because I cannot hold your hand in mine, your hand in mine. I am ready, I can live with my own foolishness Without you in my life, there is no sadness

Jester Lavorre and Caleb Widogast aren't just friends, but the journey from friends to more than that is difficult, especially when she's the poster child for Repression of the Depression and he's still learning to breathe in a world in which he's allowed to be happy.

Luckily, there's well-meaning found family.

Words: 7189, Chapters: 1/3, Language: English

Fandoms: Critical Role (Web Series)

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Categories: F/M

Characters: Jester Lavorre, Caleb Widogast, Astrid Beck, Eadwulf Grieve

Relationships: Jester Lavorre/Caleb Widogast, Astrid Beck & Eadwulf Grieve & Caleb Widogast

Additional Tags: Post-Canon, Professor Caleb Widogast, (not yet. he doesn't have tenure), Soltryce Academy (Critical Role), Pining, Mutual Pining, Jester Lavorre-centric, Anxiety, References to Depression, Past Astrid Beck/Eadwulf Grieve/Caleb Widogast, Song: Waltz of Four Left Feet (Shirebound and Busking)

source https://archiveofourown.org/works/42193728

#widojest #caleb x jester #critical role fanfiction #critical role #ao3feed #IFTTT

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bladedwoe · 2 years

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honorhearted asked : ➵ *snorts* Cuz this oughta go well lol.

Send me ➵ and I will bold all that applies to your muse. / @honorhearted -- accepting

Note: italics are circumstantial

I’m not sure what dynamic these two will turn into, but so far Astrid isn’t romantically into him. It’s a physical attraction and somewhat an interest in his personality that doesn’t get discussed openly because there’s no use to get any emotional bond or learning about anything about him other than to fill space while he’s kidnapped. I don’t see many heart to heart convos going on unless they somehow land on that topic. She has some “what ifs” about what it could’ve been like if things were different and she didn’t have to go this route, like if she truly just met him at a party as himself without any lingering underhand intentions to get him alone, but like I said: it isn’t overly important atm for her. I’m not sure what these two will turn out to be, but I don’t see them straying from the occasional FWBs scenario. I don’t think Ben would willingly want to be with Astrid with her job and morals unless he did some extreme mental gymnastics for it or saw some weird spy potential (rip Ben’s coin purse if that’s the case).

#asks #honorhearted #( 𝑨𝒍𝒍 𝒂𝒓𝒆 𝒆𝒒𝒖𝒂𝒍 𝒊𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒈𝒓𝒂𝒗𝒆 ; asks (( Astrid ))#( 𝑴𝒂𝒚𝒃𝒆 𝑰 𝒅𝒆𝒔𝒆𝒓𝒗𝒆 𝒂𝒍𝒍 𝒐𝒇 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒔 ; headcanon (( Astrid ))#( 𝑶𝒉 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒑𝒐𝒐𝒓 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈 ; au (( Astrid ))#( We spoke all night in tongues in fingertips in teeth ; Benjamin (( Astrid ))#( sadly no special text because tumblr likes to break a tag when it has a certain word count )#( thanks for sending this in ! )#( might change the dynamic tag later on but they actually have one here now )#( this will be confusing to anyone not following my other blog lmao )

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livefuntravelposts · 1 year

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The Most Beautiful Cities in Scandanavia

Whether Stockholm, Copenhagen and Oslo or Helsinki, Reykjavík and Tórshavn - Scandinavia has some cool and relaxed places to offer: tips for the most beautiful city trips in the north. Scandinavia is a popular travel destination, and the diverse nature, in particular, attracts many visitors to the far north. But the Scandinavian capitals are also definitely worth the trip - and that doesn't just apply to the well-known highlights of Stockholm, Copenhagen and Oslo. Tórshavn, the capital of the Faroe Islands, is certainly only a few on the screen, but the remote islands are a real highlight. And Reykjavík is also an essential part of a trip to Iceland. Not forgetting Finland's capital, Helsinki, where you can enjoy the sea-view sauna even in summer. By the way, did you know that the Scandinavian peninsula actually only includes Norway and Sweden, as well as the northwest of Finland? Culturally, however, Denmark is also one of them - and in a broader sense, also Iceland and the Faroe Islands. So here's the complete overview of the Scandinavian capitals - with many tips and further information.

Stockholm: The Historical

Together with Copenhagen, Stockholm is certainly one of the most popular capitals in Scandinavia, if not in all of Europe. And with around 950,000 inhabitants, it is definitely the largest city in the far north. Stockholm offers a great mix of royal elegance and old-town charm, Swedish nonchalance and Scandinavian design. The heart is the old town Gamla Stan with the Stortorget and its colorful houses. The Royal Castle and the Nobel Prize Museum are also located in Gamla Stan - and the colorful streets with the medieval atmosphere are wonderful for strolling through. Like all Scandinavian capitals, Stockholm is right on the water. One of the numerous boat tours is a good way to explore the city and, ideally, to go on a trip to the skerries, the offshore islands, directly afterwards. In Stockholm, you can also walk in the footsteps of Astrid Lindgren and ABBA or marvel at a centuries-old ship that sank in the harbour at the Vasa Museum. And then there's the trendy district of Södermalm, the colorful art in the subway and the numerous museums. When you finally get tired of sightseeing, it's best to find one of the cool cafés and take a fika, the Swedish coffee break.

Copenhagen: The Cozy One

With just over 600,000 inhabitants, Copenhagen is significantly smaller than Stockholm - and yet or perhaps because of this, Denmark's capital is one of the most popular destinations in Scandinavia. Copenhagen is pure coziness. The most famous Copenhagener is the little mermaid. The Lille Havfrue sits on her rock in the harbor - and even if she's a little unassuming, she's an essential part of a visit to the Danish capital. Also popular is Nyhavn, where you can sit on the harbor promenade, especially in summer. From there, it is also not far from the royal palace Amalienborg and the opera, one of the chic new buildings in Copenhagen. The roof of the Amager Bakke waste incineration plant was laid out as a dry ski slope and attracts numerous visitors as CopenHill. In Copenhagen, you can also stroll through one of the largest pedestrian zones in Europe or take a trip to Tivoli, the oldest amusement park in the world. Foodies should also plan a trip to the Torvehallerne market halls and the former butchers' quarter "Kødbyen".

Oslo: The Green

Even if Oslo glitters in blue in front of the opera as the city's modern landmark, Norway's capital is really green. Located directly on the fjord, Oslo is surrounded by deep green forests, a popular local recreation destination for residents. In Ekelandpark, green is even combined with art - and you will also find a lot of street art and interesting sculptures in the city. The most important sights in the centre are the Royal Castle, the Cathedral, the Parliament Storting and the City Hall, where the Nobel Peace Prize is awarded every year in December. With almost 700,000 inhabitants, Oslo is the second largest city in Scandinavia - and yet it doesn't feel like it. You can, for example, start directly from the port district of Aker Brygge to the islands in the Oslofjord and switch off completely. On the Bygdoy peninsula, you will also find numerous interesting museums, such as the Vikingskipshuset or the Kon-Tiki Museum. And things get alternative and creative in the trendy Grünerlokka district and around Oslo's Mathallen market hall.

Helsinki: The Youngest

Although Helsinki was founded in 1550, it was an insignificant city for a long time. Only since 1917 has it been the capital of an independent Finland. Today, with 635,000 inhabitants, Helsinki is the third largest city in Scandinavia after Stockholm and Oslo. The city is totally relaxed, which can be partly due to the numerous saunas, which are simply part of the way of life for Finns. But Helsinki's landmark is the cathedral, which rises completely white over the city. The Finnish capital has even more churches worth seeing: from the Russian-Orthodox-style Uspenski Cathedral to the Chapel of Silence to the rock church Temppeliaukio Kirkko. And for foodies, the Vanha Kauppahalli market hall and the Teurastamo slaughterhouse district are the perfect destinations. The sea and the islands are not far in Helsinki either, and they definitely belong on the to-do list, especially in summer.

Reykjavík: The Colorful One

When you think of Scandinavian capitals, Reykjavík is certainly not the first thing that springs to mind. And yet the town with its 120,000 inhabitants is worth a visit. The northernmost capital in the world is a mix of colourful houses, Scandinavian design and friendly people. The residents are not deterred by the cool temperatures, even in summer, but rather meet up to relax in one of the hot springs and enjoy what feels like endlessly long days. In addition to the Hallgrímskirkja as a landmark and the futuristic Harpa concert hall, a stroll through the colorful shopping street Laugavegur is a must on the to-do list for Reykjavík. You'll find some cool street art here and throughout the city. And for foodies, a detour towards the Alter Hafen and the Grandi district, with its food hall and the chocolate factory is a must.

Tórshavn: The Hidden One

With just over 20,000 inhabitants, the most important and largest city in the Faroe Islands is one of the smallest capitals in the world. Tórshavn is the economic and cultural center and is an essential part of a visit to the archipelago in the middle of the North Atlantic. When you stroll through the small alleys in the historic center, you quickly get the feeling that you have landed somewhere in a village and not in the capital. The little houses with turf roofs, so typical of the islands, are too cute. On the Tinganes peninsula, right by the small eastern harbor, you will find the Løgting, one of the oldest still existing parliaments in the world. And right next door, you can ring the Prime Minister's bell directly. In addition to a few museums, you will also find nice restaurants and cafes in the capital and a small shopping street. Last but not least, Tórshavn is also a perfect starting point to discover these spectacular islands.

Our Final Word

Kati and I always love to travel to Scandanavia. The people and the vibe are intoxicating. They just seem to get it. And it shows. From great art and museums to incredible outdoor activities, Scandanavia has it all. Out of the top 7 happiest countries in the world, 5 are from Scandanavia and way outscore countries like the USA and Germany. I think it shows that warm weather and lower tax rates do not bring people happiness rather caring for one another in terms of healthcare and healthy life expectancy along with the freedom to make key life decisions make Scandanavia a model of society for the rest of us.

Read the full article

#citiesinscandanavia #norway #scandanavia #Sweden

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beautiful-songbird · 2 years

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A Modeling Break

Pairing: Idol!Taehyung x Model!OC

Genre: fluff

Word Count: 1.3k

Warnings: none

Summary: Tae and Zelda spend a few nights in Paris together for Paris Fashion Week; flirting ensues.

Zelda was barely awake as she climbed off the plane, her purse hugged tightly to her chest. She was here. She was in Paris. But at what cost, exactly? She’d just spent eleven hours on a plane, and she had an awful headache. The good thing was that she had a day to sleep. That wasn’t enough time to get over jet lag though, was it?

Paris fashion week was starting, and she’d been invited to attend. She was so glad to not really be the one modeling this week, but she was still expected to be camera-ready at the show. There was no way she was doing her normal haircare routine while she was here.

“Hey there!” Astrid exclaimed as she noticed her friend.

Zelda wasted no time in sprinting across the airport to reach her friend. She had her suitcase now, and she was ready to take a long, long nap. She crushed Astrid in a hug.

“Thank you so much for picking me up. I don’t think I can stand being in another place with strangers.”

“No problem. The bakery is closed on Sundays, anyways, so I had time,” she laughed. “You look exhausted.”

“I barely slept on the flight…and I don’t even know what time it is back home.”

“Eight in the morning?”

“Sounds about right. I’m ready to sleep until tomorrow morning.”

“Doesn’t Tae get in tonight?”

“I’m sorry, but even my fiancé is not as important as sleep right now. Especially if I’m supposed to look presentable in the morning.”

Astrid patted her back. “Let’s get you to your hotel.”

◇◆◇◆◇

Zelda found herself surprisingly refreshed the next morning when she woke up. She definitely wasn’t feeling 100%, but she could manage the day without looking like she hadn’t slept in a year.

Her first step was to shower and wash her hair. Normally, she’d apply a few products to her hair before diffusing it, but she didn’t have the time or energy for that today. She squeezed as much water as she could out of it before blow-drying it until it was mostly dried. She honestly thought she looked pretty ridiculous with wavy hair, but her hair stylist would have to just fix it later. That was what straighteners and curlers were for, right?

The last thing she did before leaving the hotel room was place her engagement ring in its box. As much as she hated to part with it each day, she’d been told not to wear it during public appearances. No matter how insignificant she was, no one needed to know she was engaged. Especially not after the article that had made national headlines the previous year.

◇◆◇◆◇

Her stylist had decided to press her hair flat. It was not a good look on her, but neither of them had time to mess around with curls today, and it was better than the disaster that had been her wavy hair that morning.

“You don’t like this, do you?”

Zelda laughed. “No.”

“I can fix it up a bit in the front so it looks less flat. How’s that?”

“Whatever you think would look best.”

◇◆◇◆◇

Zelda was seated along the runway half an hour before the show. She didn’t recognize nearly anyone seated around her, but she eventually found Tae. He was seated on the other side of the runway quite a few seats down. He raised his eyebrows at her when they made eye contact. She nodded in response. The two of them had already decided to not interact much during the show. They didn’t need a public scandal on their hands. A private one had been bad enough.

She threw subtle glances at him across the room throughout the whole show. There were cameras everywhere, but she figured no one could blame a girl for looking at him a few times. For the most part, she wasn’t sure that any of the cameras could even pick up who she was looking at, anyways.

He looked really good today. She’d seen photos of the one he’d come to a few years back, and she’d have to argue that he looked even more amazing today. His dark hair had been tucked behind his ears, and he was wearing a vest that was a mix of beige and greens over a pair of brown slacks. She’d seen him wearing a baggy suit jacket over it all at some point in the evening, but it had been abandoned in the dense heat of Paris.

Zelda tugged on the bow tied on the front of her torso. She’d chosen a white jumper that flared out at the calves, but the top of it was dipping a bit low for her preference. She tugged the straps up a bit, shifting around hoping it would cover her a bit more. Maybe she should’ve tried all the outfits on before picking one.

She glanced across the room again, and Tae was staring at her. One of the corners of his lips turned up when she made eye contact with him. She glanced away immediately. It was already a miracle that they’d gotten away with making eye contact like this at the Grammys. There was no way they’d get away with it a second time.

She spared another glance at him a few seconds later, and he was still staring at her. It was less obvious than it had been before, but she could tell he was still looking at her. She sighed and shook her head. If the two of them weren’t running the risk of being outed, she would’ve crossed the runway and smacked him across the head. She’d just have to do it later when they saw each other.

◇◆◇◆◇

Zelda joined Tae at a photoshoot he had later that evening.

“I can’t believe you! There were hundreds of cameras there and you risked getting us caught just so you could stare at me!”

“Hey,” Tae gasped. “I’ve never seen you with straight hair! Or your collarbone out like that!”

She scoffed. “Tae, I’ve changed in front of you before! You’ve seen my collarbone!”

“…once!”

She laughed. “You’re ridiculous.”

He reached out and brushed his thumb across her collarbone. “And you’re beautiful.”

She cleared her throat awkwardly and smacked his shoulder. “Come on, don’t you have a photoshoot to do?”

He smiled. “Well, I was hoping you’d join me for some of the photos. They wouldn’t be posted, of course. Just something for us.”

She considered it for a few seconds before nodding. “Ok. Sure!”

◇◆◇◆◇

“Zee, these photos are so adorable,” Indigo laughed.

“What photos?”

“The ones of you and Tae in Paris. You two look like you’re having so much fun.”

Zelda glanced over her shoulder. The first photo was one of Tae hugging her from behind. He was kissing her ear, and she was glancing back at him with a smile on her face. Their outfits greatly contrasted each other but looked good together nonetheless. In the next photo, Tae was bending over with his head tilted as he grinned at her. She was crossing her arms and staring back at him.

Zelda smiled. “Yeah, those are cute.” Then she frowned. “Wait, where did you see these?”

“Instagram.”

Zelda’s eyes widened. “You’re kidding.”

“No? They were from that photoshoot Tae did. They were posted with the rest of the photos from that night.”

Zelda grumbled. “I can’t believe this. I’m calling him.”

“Is it really that big of a deal anymore? People know you’re together because of those photos from last year.”

She sighed. “I know. I’d just prefer people didn’t know know.”

Indigo shrugged. “It looks like it’s too late now!”

This is part of the Dad!BTS series that can be found here

A/N: mwahahahaha I finally finished this

It would be greatly appreciated if you reblogged the story if you liked it!

Taglist: @jiminie-and-his-pinky-finger @jinnie-forthe-winnie @fly-you-dam-fools @thornedswan @aianloveseven @kookstempo @lvoekook

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