#deep and rolling in my chest and not soaring off to high heights because i couldn't do low notes with my meager mid-range nonsense

[mothmvn]

T made my voice drop by basically 2 full octaves, i've gone from a mid-range "young woman" voice, not an alto by any means, into just. HARD BASS. DEEP. silly me, i'd worried that because i'm short i would at best sound like the king of squeak - instead i gained the ability to bellow! i sound like that guy at the far edge of every folk choir who pumps out a steady infra-sound under everyone else. i have to shift most songs at least a half-octave lower just to be able to sing them. it's great

[neoculturetravesty]

The waiting game

Image taken from here.

Pairing: Kun x Reader Genre: smut, pwp, it’s literally just filth with a tiny bit of fluff at the end. Warnings: 18+, Daddy Kun, sub reader, daddy/ddlg kink, praise kink, bondage (handcuffs and ankle restraints), fingering, overstimulation with a vibrator, orgasm denial, anal plug, humiliation, spanking, unprotected sex, squirting, facial, fluffy aftercare. Word Count: 3.2k words of the most pwp I’ve ever written. There is no plot whatsoever.

Summary: “Will my baby be okay to bend over like this for a while?” you hear him ask behind you. You turn your head just a little to reply “Yes, Daddy.” 

A/N: Kind of wanted to write some absurdist, slightly unrealistic, fantastical, pornographic smut. And it so happened that Kun ended up becoming the vehicle for this piece. 

“Daddy, please…” you look up at Kun, fat tears rolling down your cheeks as you whimper.

“I know, baby, I know.” He takes your face in his hands and wipes away at your tears with the pads of his thumbs. He leans in and gives you a healing, nurturing kiss. “Daddy knows you can take it. Daddy knows you’re his brave girl.”

You whimper and your eyebrows knit together as you look up at him to sob. You’re pretty sure you look anything but brave... you probably look like the most pathetic girl to ever exist. But you can’t keep your composure any longer and you suppose that is what Kun wanted. He wanted to strip you bare so you weren’t hiding from him. So you were showing him your true self, your most vulnerable self, your most naked self. 

It’s why he had put you in this position for what you’re sure has been an hour. On all fours on a table top, panties pulled down to your thighs, a vibrator attached to your pussy, a shiny pink butt plug inserted in your ass. Your tits were just covered enough by a barely there camisole that said ‘Daddy’s Princess’ across the chest in bright pink letters. Each of your ankles was tied to the corresponding leg of the table. Erotic handcuffs with black leather straps were binding your delicate wrists like bracelets. Your back was beautifully arched and your chest was risen tall because that’s how Kun liked it. 

“My princess looks so pretty like this.” He had complimented when he had finished his handiwork and stepped back to look at you. But it was getting harder and harder to stay pretty for him. The vibrator bound to your pussy was buzzing at an agonizing pace--not moving any slower to give you a break, not moving any faster to give you relief. You had, at one point, ground your hips against it to get some variation in friction and you think you must have lost your posture in doing so because it had resulted in Kun giving powerful smacks to your bare ass which made the plug jolt inside you, making you see stars.

Now your ass was red and hot as you struggled to keep your back arched. 

“Press down to absorb the pleasure, princess. Make yourself pretty for Daddy.” Kun had taught you and that’s what you had been trying to do for the past few minutes. But now it was getting to be too much. The slow, tormenting buzzing on your core was making it drip embarrassingly. You were pretty sure your pussy had engorged to maybe twice it’s usual size. Plus, any time you clenched and unclenched around the plug; it made lubricant ooze out of you, because Kun had used way too much and asked you to hold it in like a good girl. You couldn’t see it, but you felt the mess your holes were creating. The only upside was that Kun had placed soft pillows beneath your hands and knees.

You felt vulnerable like this. Wearing a barely there shirt, with your panties pulled down to your thighs. Maybe you would’ve felt less humiliated if Kun had simply taken them all the way off. But you were so exposed and your need was building but not being fulfilled. You were so sexually frustrated and so fucking needy that it was making you cry. But Kun kept stalking your body. Circling around as if you were a lab experiment he was studying, as if he was taking notes on how your body was reacting to each sensation. Every now and then, he would press his palm to the small of your back to put you back in his desired state. Or he’d wiggle and smoothen your panties so they laid smooth and stretched around your thighs. He’d fix your top when all your squirming had made it ride over your tits. He’d push the butt plug back in if you had pushed it out. When would he stop? You didn’t know and it drove you crazy. Maybe that’s what he wanted. To break you down bit by bit through this waiting game. To get to the deepest parts of you that no man had ever seen. To get you to show your true submissive self where you would want nothing else but your Daddy for relief.

Right now, though, he was by your head and he wasn’t fixing you anymore. All his attention was on calming you. When you let out a wail and cry so much that your chest heaves, he presses a long, lingering kiss to your forehead and says,

“Just a bit longer, baby girl. You’re doing so well.” He takes your face in his hands and looks at you with nurturing eyes. But it only makes you look back and cry to him.

“Daddy, pleasseeee… I can’t take this any more! I need to come!” you are barely able to word it out between your sobs.

Kun sighs and grabs a stool and adjusts its height so he is at level with your face when he sits. He takes your face in his hands once more.

“Kiss Daddy to take your mind off of it, princess. But if you want it to stop, you’ll have to say your color.” 

You think about it for a moment. You had come this far. Your pussy was aching and sensitive and your asshole was swollen. Your back was aching a bit and the makeup you had spent nearly an hour doing was probably spoiled. You’re pretty sure the mascara is streaked around your eyes from all the crying. Your hair was probably messy, too, because Kun had grabbed it at one point. But you had come this far. Kun had never been one to hold back his rewards if you’d pleased him in these waiting challenges. And those rewards were always so toe-curlingly bountiful that they made every moment of sexual agony worth it. 

So you end up kissing him though the decision makes you sob into the kiss, like you knew you that you yourself had chosen the torture whereas Kun had offered you a way out. You’re sniffling as you absorb the slow torment in your pussy and Kun kisses you deep. He swirls his tongue in your mouth till you’re drooling down your chin but he doesn’t care. He loved all your messes. He loved that he made you this way: leaking and drooling and crying and submissive. His perfect little princess.

“You’ve made Daddy so proud today, princess.” he coos into the kiss. “Will you be a good girl and stay very still while he undoes everything?”

You nod furiously, your sobs dying down to obedient sniffles as the hope of relief runs through your body. You can feel the mess of tears, mascara and drool on your face, but you don’t seem to care. Kun had already seen the worst of you. No, he had pulled it out of you because that’s what he wanted. That’s what your man wanted.

The man in question walks around to the back of the table now and finally turns the vibrator off. You let out a high pitched, shaky sound of relief, although you don’t feel relieved in any way. You just feel even more sexually frustrated because Kun is taking his time wiping the vibrator off and wrapping the cord and putting it back in it’s right place. Sometimes, you hated his fucking perfectionist guts. Then he methodically undoes the binds around your ankles and you exhale as the circulation returns when you move them around. You place your chest down on the table for a breather when he moves his attention to the huge plug in your ass. He holds it gently and though you know he’s going to be as careful as ever to take it out, you still find yourself gripping onto the edge of the table and holding your breath. But the pain does not come because he twists and turns it so gently, you barely even feel it and only notice it’s absence when the lube starts dripping more freely out of your hole. 

You feel his warm, soft kisses on your ass. “My baby did so well.” he praises and you feel your heart soar. All this pain was worth it if you got to hear him talk like that. Then you find him holding you by the waist and sliding you to the edge of the table, holding your legs and helping you find your footing till you are bent over like he wants. 

“Will my baby be okay to bend over like this for a while?” you hear him ask behind you.

You turn your head just a little to reply “Yes, Daddy.” 

“Good girl.” he pats your bum before you hear the telltale sounds of him undoing his belt and pulling his zipper down. These sounds worked on you like the sounds of bells worked on Pavlov’s dogs. Because you find your pussy dripping for him almost immediately. You move the pillows under your chest and place your cheek on the cool surface of the table as you wait for him to take you. Your wrists are still bound by the handcuffs and it makes you feel so bloody submissive that for a while, you’re happy your pussy is dripping so shamelessly for Kun. You wonder if he likes the mess he’s made between your legs.

But that smugness is chased right away when he pushes his cock inside of you and you’re moaning out in no time. He fucks into you so your mound presses into the edge of the table over and over and your moans become more gurgled.

“Your cock feels so good, Daddy!” you mewl desperately and it works because it encourages him to go faster and soon, your chest is lifting off the table because the pressure in your abdomen is building and building. 

Kun grabs your hair and lifts you off the table and hugs your body to him, into his chest. He fucks you like this, standing up and moans in your ear.

“My baby is so good for me. My princess is so good for her Daddy.” He tells you and you think you’re going to burst, so you tell him.

“Daddy, I need to come!” 

“No, baby.” He replies and pulls out of you so quickly that you lose your balance and double over the table, breathing out of your mouth erratically.

“Daddyyyy!” you whine with your entire body at the betrayal.

“Come here.” He invites as he takes a seat on his favorite armchair. Your panties are still around your thighs and you know he wants you to keep them there. So you waddle your way to him, all your pride be damned. He cups your ass right away and helps you get on his lap, looping your bound wrists around his neck as you straddle him.

“My pretty baby.” he says as he looks up to kiss you. “Does my baby want to come?”

You nod and your face contorts again and you don’t realize that your frown has turned into a sob “Please, Daddy…” you beg.

He kisses your shoulder. “Shhh. It’s okay, baby. Daddy’s got you.” 

He brings both hands between your legs from behind and pushes down your panties that have ridden up and goes straight for your pussy. His hands rub soothing strokes on the entirety of it, almost like he’s massaging you. Both his hands spread your lips apart then his fingers press against your flesh.

“My good girl…” he coos when he sinks two fingers into your hole while the other hand keeps holding you open for him. He begins pumping and you whimper in his lap, saying ‘Daddy’ over and over like an incantation. But then he curls his fingers inside of you and starts pumping up strongly and you know you’re going to burst soon. You unloop your arms from around him so you can push against his chest.

“Daddy, I think I’m going to squirt.” you warn desperately, worriedly.

He kisses you “It’s okay, baby girl, you can squirt,” he assures you.

“Can I get off you, Daddy? I don’t want to make a mess on you.” you bring both hands to your pussy now, covering because you’re not sure how much longer you can hold out before you have an accident on his pants.

But he uses his free hand to grab your bound wrists and loop them around his neck again. “It’s okay, baby. Daddy’s got you. You can squirt right here.” He kisses your cheek caringly.

“Can I take my panties off, Daddy? I don’t want to make them dirty.” you have no idea why you’re so self-conscious about your messes when your face probably looks like one anyway.

“It’s okay, baby. Daddy doesn’t mind if you come in your panties or on his pants. Daddy wants you to come like this, on his lap where you’re safe.” he wraps one arm firmly around the middle of your back while the fingers of the other hand pump with precision because he knows exactly how to make you explode. 

You know you have no choice. You’re whimpering in frustration but you have nowhere to go but his arms. It’s what he wants. He wants you coming undone without hiding from him. And you know it’s bad because your hips are hovering off of his lap, trying to get away from all the pleasure and pressure in your pussy. You bury your face in his neck and wail till your voice strains before it cuts off. And before you know it, you are raining down all over him.

“That’s it, baby girl. Just let go for your Daddy. Let it all out.” He’s rubbing your back, nurturing, which is in striking contrast to what his other hand is doing inside your pussy. You’re embarrassed beyond belief because the squirt is falling onto Kun with a splattering sound and you regret lifting off of him. But you can’t really think because your entire body is convulsing and if he wasn’t holding you, you would’ve fallen off already. When you still, he holds you close, rubbing his hands up and down your back, pressing kisses to your forehead. 

“Are you sure you let it all out, baby girl?” He asks, bringing a hand back to your pussy and sinking a finger into your hole as if to confirm.

“I think so, Daddy.” you say meekly into his neck.

“Stand up so Daddy can check.” He says and you almost groan because you don’t want to stand up. You just want to go limp in his arms and never move ever again in your life. 

But nothing good even comes out of defying Kun so you’re up on your feet, supporting yourself with your bound hands on his shoulder. Your pussy is right in front of him like this and he furrows his eyebrows, pushing his fingers inside of you and inspecting you with an almost clinical concentration. When you moan out, he nods like he’s confirmed something.

“I think you can come one more time.” he turns you so you’re standing sideways to him. He brings one hand from behind, under your legs and into your hole, while his other hand splays over your lower abdomen, pressing as if to squeeze anything that’s left out of you. Your toes curl as you moan restlessly because you weren’t sure you could, but once Kun had decided he wanted something, he almost always got it. You let out dry, frustrated sobs and he looks up at you.

“Baby girl. Concentrate and come.” he scolds and he reaches with his thumb to rub circles on your clit as well. You stand there whimpering, moaning, giving into your boyfriend’s desires and soon, you find your body convulsing once again. Kun has to hold you tighter by the pussy because you’re doubling over as your orgasm hits. Soon, he has pulled you into his lap once more, making you sit on his thigh as he kisses you.

“Good girl.” He kisses your lips while his hand goes between your legs to soothe over your aching pussy. “That’s my good girl.” he says in between kisses and you smile lazily because you’re happy you pleased him. 

“Is my good girl going to take Daddy’s cum on her face?” he asks lovingly as he gently pulls your panties up and puts them snugly in place, covering you.

“Yes, Daddy.” You say, in a soft, almost sleepy voice. You were spent.

Kun kisses your temple, tender and long. “Get on your knees for me, baby girl. Take Daddy’s cum all over your pretty face.”

“Yes, Daddy.” you say sweetly as you get on your knees and look up into his eyes from below, like the loving submissive that you were. And he stands up and unzips himself more so he can take his cock in his hands and look at you adoringly as he pumps himself. You rub your palms over his thighs to help him along and soon his breaths have turned to moans and his moans have turned to grunts and he is coming all over your face, hitting your cheek, your forehead, your lips, your eyes. It clings onto your eyelashes; some of it even lands on your hair. You squeeze your eyes shut and keep them closed, staying very still as Kun holds the top of your head and strokes every last drop out onto your face.

He stands back panting “Fuckkk, you look so fucking gorgeous, baby.” he breathes out and you smile gently without opening your eyes.

“Stay like that.” you hear after a while and then feel his thumbs swipe carefully over and between your eyelids. “Open.” he says and you blink your eyes open but soon realize that he meant your mouth because he’s scooping all the cum off your face with his thumb and feeding it to you. You oblige because when he’s done, he kisses you deeply in gratitude.

He walks away for a while and you stay there on your knees, wrists bound, spent to the bone, feeling like your legs have turned to jelly. So you lay your head on the seat of Kun’s chair so you can doze off just like that but he’s back before you’re totally gone. He’s undoing the handcuffs and kissing the skin of your wrists when it is exposed. He is lifting your shirt off of you and your panties and scooping your naked body in his arms and carrying you till he’s placed you in a hot bath. He bathes you thoroughly, massages your scalp when he shampoos your hair, then dries you off and anoints your pussy with soothing balms when he’s done. Then he puts you in one of his shirts that hangs to your thighs like a dress and then pulls you into his arms and tucks the covers around you so you’re snug into him, warm and comfortable and safe.

You feel so good that you decide that you would make breakfast for him in the morning just to thank him for being the best boyfriend in the world. But like all mornings, he beats you to it and you wake to breakfast in bed. 

Copyright © 2021 NeoCultureTravesty. All rights reserved.

[cheri-translates]

[CN] Gavin’s Long Journey Date

🍒 Warning: This post contains detailed spoilers for a date, 长旅之约, which has not been released in EN! 🍒

[ This date was released on 8 July 2021 ]

Deers rest peacefully beside me, and birds caw from the branches.

All of a sudden, a rustling sound of flapping wings disrupts the peace in the forest.

Smiling subconsciously while tilting my head upwards, a gigantic griffin descends from the sky.

MC: Welcome back, Griffy! Have you been eating and sleeping well?

I walk up to it, burying my face in the griffin’s fluffy chest fur, letting out a happy sigh.

??: You’re only welcoming it?

The voice I’m most familiar with drifts from the griffin’s back. After that, a figure leaps down smoothly.

MC: Gavin, welcome home!

With a turn of my face, I smile while giving him a wave.

Gavin is wearing simple and informal clothes. However, the extraordinary way he carries himself and the exquisite crown on his forehead could only belong to a prince.

He bows before me in a teasing manner, handing me a small bag. Even without opening it, I can smell the fragrance of pastries.

Gavin: Goddess of Nature, I bring you this round of offerings. But stop sharing them with these animals. They’ve put on weight again.

MC: They’re only cute when they’re round and plump.

I retort, unconvinced. Even so, I pinch the squirrel on my shoulder, placing it back onto the tree.

MC: I have also mentioned that you don’t have to bring me any offerings. The person who made the agreement with me was your mother, and I've already accepted sufficient offerings from her.

Despite what I said, I open the little bag that Gavin gave me, grinning while taking out the pastries.

As a deity, I’m basically adept in everything within my own forest. However, I lack the skills and abilities to bake such snacks.

As such, I’m exceptionally happy whenever he brings me such food.

While eating, I continue speaking with unclear articulation.

MC: When your mother came to the forest that year with a jewel which had been passed down from generation to generation, as well as her crown your deity father once gave her...

Gavin: With those items as offerings, she hoped that you’d become my guardian deity who would keep me safe and train me till I became a passable king.

When deities accept human offerings, they reciprocate by bestowing blessings onto humans. This way, a wonderful transactional relationship is formed.

Back then, a queen had brought her son of around fourteen or fifteen years of age to my forest.

That elegant and dignified lady was smiling, but there was faint worry in her eyes.

She told me that her days were numbered, and that she wouldn’t be able to watch her son grow up.

The child’s father was a high-ranking deity who was busy maintaining the earth's order and rarely showed himself.

As such, she gave me offerings, hoping that I'd become her son’s guardian deity, and to protect this small prince.

Gavin does a stretch, then removes the saddle on Griffy.

Gavin: You’ve said it many times, and I remember it all. 

Gavin: Instead of these things, why don’t you eat quickly? I specially bought the basket which just came out from the stove, then rushed Griffy over. The pastries won’t taste good if they get cold.

Gavin draws out his tone, but a smile remains on his lips.

I turn my head towards Gavin, who is helping me manage the medicinal plants with a practised hand. I can’t help but ponder softly in my heart.

This person doesn’t let me protect him much...

Although this half deity obtained the added protection from the Goddess of Nature, he has never asked for assistance aside from guidance.

He has always strived for the things he wanted, and would persist through failure until he reaches his goal.

Later on, this prince who excels in both learning and military skills, and can even control wind, is the one who helps me out.

He always brings me all sorts of human food and small trinkets, calling them offerings.

Gavin: Why are the medicinal plants here turning bare again... did I water them too much?

I can’t help but laugh secretly while walking over to his side. Holding up those medicinal plants, I restore them to life.

Till this day, he only lets me help him in this area.

I think about how despite not having been coronated king, Gavin has long since been able to run a country.

As a guardian deity, I haven’t neglected my duties, have I?

MC: Come to think of it... Gavin, why haven’t you held a coronation ceremony?

Gavin pauses in his movements.

Gavin: Do you want me to become king?

MC: Of course.

Gavin: But if I become king, it means that you’d no longer be my guardian deity.

MC: That... is correct.

Gavin averts his line of sight, and he doesn’t seem to be in a good mood.

This seems to be the case every time I broach this topic with him.

Clearing my throat, I attempt to change the topic to break the awkward atmosphere.

MC: Oh yes, how many days will you be staying this time?

Gavin doesn’t respond. As though he has finally made a certain decision, he sighs deeply and lifts his head, meeting my eyes directly.

Gavin: The reason why I came this time is because there’s something important I needed to tell you. I’ve decided to succeed to the throne.

The overly abrupt news leaves me dumbfounded on the spot.

Gavin doesn’t elaborate further, and continues.

Gavin: Before that, I intend to follow the ancient text and collect the rumoured offerings that deities cannot refuse. That will allow a strong deity to become my new guardian deity, to protect me, and to protect this country.

Hearing his resolute words, my heart feels slightly upset.

Although completing my agreement is a good thing, why does my heart feel empty?

He even said he was going to find a new guardian deity...

I blink a few times, unable to comprehend the feelings churning in my heart.

Gavin: But right now, you’re my guardian deity. Which is why I hope you can accompany me on this journey. Is that okay?

Gavin looks straight at me, his eyes as transparently clear as a cloudless amber sky.

Facing such a him, I can only nod.

-

Despite not yet rationalising my emotions, I reluctantly embark on this journey with him.

The first stop of this journey is the forest in which fairies live.

Looking at the first treasure recorded in the ancient text, I heave a long sigh.

MC: A crystal which can counteract all sorts of curses. It only grows at the tip of the World Tree...

Gavin: What’s wrong? Deities don’t like it?

MC: It’s the opposite. No deities have refused such an offering. To be honest, even I want it. But...

I lift my head. Looking at the giant tree which plunges into the sky, I have a bad feeling.

MC: You have to know that even though I’m a deity, I was born from nature, and the source of my strength comes from the forest and the land. Which also means...

I’m not good at flying.

Likely hearing the implication of my words, Gavin doesn’t hold back, chuckling softly.

MC: Gavin! Don’t laugh! At that height, even a griffin would have difficulties flying up there. Furthermore, people are good at different-

Gavin: Get on.

Gavin leaps onto the griffin, lowering his head to look at me.

The griffin releases an excited caw, its wings flapping up and down.

Faint morning light caresses the side of his face, the gorgeous rosy glow wilfully painting the azure sky.

His hair and indigo cloak roll up with the air currents, the crown on his head reflecting arc lights.

And on his face, there’s a heroic valiance even clearer and more radiant than any jewel.

For a moment, I’m left slightly dazed.

As compared to any other moment, I can clearly sense that he is no longer that little child who had his brows tightly furrowed back then.

The person before me has shed off his childishness, is sufficiently intelligent, and sufficiently mature - a person who is about to become a young king.

I always knew that he was someone worth having faith in.

But there seems to be something else in his eyes that causes my heartbeat to accelerate uncontrollably.

Likely seeing that I haven’t moved in a long time, Gavin leans over, pulling me in front of him steadily, his arms wrapped securely around my waist.

Gavin: Let’s go.

With this soft statement, the griffin, which had been anticipating this for a very long time, flaps its wings, soaring towards the azure sky.

At the same time, a powerful gale whizzes under Gavin’s beckoning.

Using the wind as wings, we fly very, very high.

Gavin: I wanted to take you flying like this since a very long time ago. But I wasn’t able to find a suitable chance.

His words land on my ears amidst the fluttering sound of wind - high-spirited, clear, and without restraint.

I can hear the throbbing of my own heart, reminiscent of the bits of feathers in the air, drifting along with the breeze.

With Gavin around, Griffy doesn’t have to exert much effort, landing at the crown of the World Tree.

There is a rich display of light and colours on the dense and green treetop. Amidst the various lights, a cluster of dazzling crystals emit a tender and dream-like colour.

Gavin: Looks like this is it.

He plucks a crystal deftly, storing it in the travelling bag he carried along.

Seizing this chance, I take several deep breaths to calm the inexplicable throbbing in my chest.

MC: Since we’ve successfully obtained the first item, are we heading to the next destination? Or are we resting here for the night?

Gavin: We’ll set off straightaway. But give me a moment.

Gavin reaches out to pluck a few smaller crystals. Using a few branches around us, he weaves a simple bracelet, then clasps it around my wrist gently.

Gavin: Since you like it, bring a few more back.

Just as he finishes speaking, a few fairies who were grinning among the leaves earlier rush out towards us.

Fairy A: Congratulations! May the fruits of the World Tree protect the two of you forever!

Fairy B: Congratulations on your marriage! I wish you two everlasting sweetness!

MC: Huh?

Watching as the fairies start to sprinkle flower petals over our heads, my face burns with a “whoosh”.

MC: [blushing] What nonsense are you saying?

The fairy grins while speaking once again.

Fairy B: Firstly, don’t the two of you play together often, and like each other more than others?

Very few humans enter my forest. Aside from the small animals, the only one who visits me frequently, chats with me, and has fun with me is Gavin.

As compared to those small animals which aren’t able to talk or bring me snacks, it’s true that I like Gavin a little more.

With this thought in mind, I nod.

At the side, Gavin nods too. But for some reason, the tips of his ears are slightly red.

Fairy A: Secondly, didn’t the two of you make a unique agreement with each other?

Not knowing where this is heading, I nod again. After all, I’m Gavin’s guardian deity.

At the side, Gavin does a similar action.

Fairy A: Lastly, he made a bracelet for you using the crystals of the World Tree, then put it on for you personally. Doesn’t that symbolise that you’re destined for each other?

The fairy says this matter-of-factly, and the surrounding fairies agree in succession.

MC: Wait wait wait wait, this is a misunderstanding! We’re...

The words are at my lips, but I pause.

It seems that I’ve never considered how to define my relationship with Gavin.

I’m his guardian deity, but I can vaguely sense that it goes further than that.

In the end, Gavin takes half a step forward, blocking me from the celebrating fairies.

Gavin: That’s just the tradition of fairies. Humans and deities don’t have such rules. She’s a guardian deity belonging only to me.

-

The heating stove is bright red, and the sound of forging is unceasing.

??: Drink quickly, drink quickly! There are many more barrels!

The dizzying fragrance of alcohol permeates the air. Even if it’s dispelled by the breeze, it lingers for a long time.

??: You’ll only enjoy yourself to the fullest by accompanying it with the best quality cheese! Want a chunk of smoked meat too?

The bustling marketplace is rife with people hawking their wares, cheese, smoked meat, fruits and perfume. The dazzling lineup leaves one overwhelmed.

??: I didn’t expect that humans could drink as well as us! Not bad!

??: After all, he’s a half deity!

A circular table is in the middle of the lively marketplace, surrounded by dwarves who are adept in iron casting.

Aromatic mead courses through the crevices of the crowd and the small path, being sent to the table in a continuous stream.

MC: Gavin, are you sure you can still drink?

This is the first time I’m seeing Gavin drink this much. He wobbles a little while standing beside the table. Fortunately, his eyes are still sober and clear.

Gavin: I’m fine. 

Gavin: [to the dwarves] We agreed that as long as I can outdrink all of you, you’d give the rarest treasure of the dwarves to me - a golden belt praised by all the deities.

Dwarf A: We never lie!

Dwarf B: Goddess, try some! 

Before I can refuse politely, Gavin has already pulled over the wine cup offered to me, drinking it in one mouthful.

Gavin: I’m the one competing against all of you.

Whether it’s due to the mead or the nearby heating stove, my face grows slightly warm.

Another barrel of mead is finished, and the alcohol-loving dwarves at the table have already collapsed.

Gavin presses the wooden wine cup onto the table heavily. Arching a brow, he raises his volume slightly.

Gavin: You’ve lost.

Dwarf A: Fine, you win! The belt belongs to you! But...!

The dwarf stands up wobbly and burps. In front of Gavin, he pats his own chest.

Dwarf A: There’s... there’s something even more... important that I must do! Axe! I want to make an axe - the best axe - and give it to my beloved lady!

While saying this, he runs and staggers towards the forging stove. The dwarves in the surroundings cheer him on and whistle.

MC: What’s happening this time...

The dwarf is inebriated, but his limbs remain deft. He holds up a hammer and picks a chunk of steel which has been scorched red. Then, he begins hammering it with clanking sounds.

Dwarf A: Half Deity! Come here!

Dwarf B: Come and make something too!

The dwarves are rowdy, and they bring Gavin over to a forging stove, teaching him how to forge weapons.

I head over curiously. Gavin seems to think of something. He glances at me, a smile surfacing on his lips.

Then, he holds up a chunk of mithril and gives it a detailed look, as though visualising the shape he wants to carve it into.

After a while, Gavin picks up the iron hammer, hammering in a decisive manner.

Sparks dance in the air, and the flames from the stove are exuberant. The clamour and sounds of hammering are incessant, bringing the celebration of the marketplace to a climax.

Dwarf A: Done!

Cheers erupt from amongst the crowd. That drunk dwarf raises the axe he had forged, then runs towards a small stall in the marketplace.

Dwarf A: This axe is for you, my beautiful woman! Please marry me!

Even from across the marketplace, the loud voice of the dwarf drifts over clearly.

Dwarf B: Hahahaha! Not bad!

The dwarf at the side chuckles so hard that he isn’t able to straighten up. He takes several deep breaths to calm himself down, then turns around to speak to Gavin.

Dwarf B: Half Deity Lad, you too. Your skills are pretty good for a beginner! If you have a beloved lady, don’t hesitate. Just propose directly!

At the other side of the marketplace, the proposal succeeds. A brand new celebration and banquet has already begun.

I don’t bother about the joy which is about to drown us. I simply look at Gavin.

Perhaps he’s drunk a little too much. Right now, he’s staring fixedly at the short staff he forged, a look of contemplation on his face.

What the dwarf said earlier echos in my ears, akin to a mystical magic spell.

Looking at Gavin, I find myself wondering if he’d give that short staff to me.

Would he smile while looking straight into my eyes, or would he avert his gaze in embarrassment?

I’m left dumbfounded by these inexplicable thoughts.

Perhaps I’ve also drunk a little too much.

-

Early the second day, we bid farewell to the dwarves, preparing to continue the journey.

MC: I didn’t think we’d witness a wedding. It’s a pity that we couldn’t hear more about how they met and got to know each other.

Gavin: Mm. I’m also really curious.

MC: It’s rare to see you interested in such topics.

Gavin: After all, meetings are special things to me. Meetings and keeping each other company are very beautiful things.

Gavin’s tone is gentle, as though he’s recollecting his most treasured memories. Pale gold sunlight illuminates his eyes, which are even more dazzling than the most expensive jewels.

In this short trance, a fleeting yet unrealistic thought burrows into my mind without notice.

I shake my head forcefully, and decide to say something to distract myself.

My gaze quickly sweeps around the surroundings, then locks on a target.

MC: Gavin, do you still remember how we met Griffy?

As though he didn’t expect my sudden question, Gavin blinks a few times, then strokes the grown-up Griffy, chuckling as he speaks.

Gavin: Of course I remember.

Gavin: Back then, my mother had already passed on for a few years. And that deity father never appeared. 

Gavin: Perhaps because of those things, I had a pretty bad attitude towards you during that time. Sorry.

Till this day, I can still remember that period of time.

His amber eyes, which always sparkle and shine, were dyed with a heavy grey. Even his hair, which always sticks up, had drooped listlessly.

But it’s precisely because I was always by his side that I understood the heartbreak and struggles he faced during that period of time.

And I rejoiced that at the very least, I was there to keep him company.

I walk towards him, reaching out to tousle his hair. Gavin leans down and comes slightly closer to me, a peaceful smile on his face.

Gavin: In short, I came to the forest one day.

Gavin: It was raining that day. I walked to the vicinity of your small house, and discovered that you were taking care of a small, stray griffin which had wandered here from somewhere.

Gavin: You’re a goddess, but you didn’t care about yourself, and only cared about shielding the griffin from the rain.

Gavin: You treated its wounds and fed it, while getting drenched by the rain yourself.

Along with his depiction, memories surge into my heart, and they are dyed with a hazy colour of rain.

MC: I recall how you shielded me from the rain with a large leaf. Back then, I was thinking about how rare it was to see such gentle moments from you.

Gavin: Since then, I...

Gavin’s voice grows softer and softer. He turns his face away a little unnaturally.

MC: Since then?

Gavin ignores my question. He simply clears his throat and hands me something.

Gavin: MC, this is for you.

Accepting it subconsciously, the cold and smooth texture of metal causes me to hold my breath.

It’s the short staff he had personally forged yesterday.

His emblem is carved on the body of the staff, and a quality gem is mounted at the tip.

MC: This is...

Before I can say anything, Gavin hurriedly explains.

Gavin: I’m a human, so I don’t follow the traditions of dwarves. In the culture of humans, giving a handmade gift to someone is a form of etiquette to express gratitude. So... this is a thank you gift. Thank you for teaching me so much, and for taking such good care of me.

MC: I... I see!

Gavin speaks calmly and appears utterly composed.

Accepting the short staff, I turn around to pack my items. Recalling the image that surfaced in my mind earlier, my face burns again.

Clearing my throat, I ask Gavin a question tentatively.

MC: Gavin, according to your customs, what would you give to your bride?

Gavin: I’d craft a ring personally.

While saying this, he takes my travelling bag and fixes it onto Griffy’s back. Then, he picks up the ancient text to confirm our next destination.

MC: When that time comes, I’ll definitely pluck the most beautiful flowers in the forest and make a wedding bouquet for your bride.

Holding a wedding and having a partner - these are things worthy to be happy about.

But when I said this, I found that I couldn’t bring myself to smile.

It’s as though my heart is drowned in deep water. It feels acrid, and there’s also a tightening in my chest.

I’ve lived for a very long time on this land, witnessed the construction and destruction of many kingdoms, and experienced battles and peace since the ancient times till today.

Yet, I’m unable to understand the feelings I’m currently experiencing, and what they signify.

-

After that, we head to many other places together.

We cross the dessert, fly over the ocean, scale the highest mountain peak, and head to the deepest abyss.

We dance in a sea of flowers along with the odes of travelling bards, and bargain with a gigantic, greedy dragon.

The treasures in the travelling bag increase in number. Every treasure obtained makes it increasingly clearer that this dream-like journey is about to come to an end.

On an unknown empty island, Gavin and I sit side by side on the shore, watching as the waves at our feet lap against the rocks.

Looking at the pearl head ornament Gavin just gave me, my voice comes out hoarser than expected.

MC: What will you do once you become king?

Gavin: Quite a number of races are interested in humans. Perhaps I could try broadening trade. I also have to revolutionise the senate.

He talks about his responsibilities earnestly - from commerce to ruling the country, from art to food.

Gavin’s dead seriousness tickles me to laughter.

I console myself with the thought that even after he becomes king and I’m no longer his guardian deity, our relationship wouldn’t change that much. 

Gavin suddenly stops mid-speech, as though deliberating something.

I turn my head, only to see the reddened tips of his ears.

Gavin: Also... I want to marry the lady I like and make her my queen. This way, I can always be with her.

Gavin looks afar off, his gaze gentle, as though he can see his desired future.

For some reason, I want to rush towards that future with him.

And I suddenly realise what that acrid feeling twirling around in my heart is.

Without realising it, my feelings for Gavin have been intertwined and encased by a sense of possessiveness.

I don’t want him to have another guardian deity, nor do I want him to give these treasures we’ve collected together to another deity.

Most of all, I don’t want him to put a personally crafted ring on the finger of another lady.

The sea breeze rolls up tiny, light blue flowers on the beach. They dance in the air, floating towards the ocean.

At this moment, all the clamorous emotions and feelings quieten down, and are crowned a name and definition -

All of this is called “liking”.

-

The journey is about to end.

Griffy returns us to the ground.

Looking at my forest and at my little courtyard, I feel as though everything happened a lifetime ago.

Gavin: It’s nice to be home.

Gavin retrieves the travelling bag, then pats the fence at the door.

Gavin: Wait. Why do the medicinal plants look even healthier than before I left...

I tug onto Gavin before he can check on the medicinal plants.

MC: The journey has already ended, and you’ve collected sufficient treasures. Are you going to succeed to the throne after this? Looks like my agreement with your mother has been fulfilled.

Gavin: That’s right. But aren’t you going to let me rest at your place and have a drink of water?

MC: You have quite a number of things to handle after this. These treasures need to be offered to the deity. And you also have to... marry the lady you like. You should take action quickly and settle these things at one go!

I give him a stern expression, trying to conceal the childish impetuousness in my heart.

Gavin: Do you think the deity will really like these?

Gavin doesn’t leave. He stands in place, his words bringing with them a smile.

Looking at the full and bulging travelling bag, I feel tremendously envious.

MC: Of course. Who was the one who picked them with you? All right, go and offer them to your new deity. Who are you looking for? I could put in a good word for you so he or she would give you a little more blessings.

My voice grows softer and softer, and my gaze flits around.

Gavin: If she’ll like them, I can put my mind at ease. 

Gavin speaks softly, but doesn’t respond to my question. He takes the travelling bag, placing the treasures we’ve collected on the grass before me.

The crystal from the top of the World Tree, the golden belt crafted by the dwarves, the unwilting flower from the deepest part of the desert, the coral from the deepest oceanic trench...

Aside from the recorded treasures, there’s also cheese from the dwarves’ marketplace, a headscarf from sea nymphs, sun-dried jerky from the giants, and other miscellaneous items.

These items were brought along with Gavin because I liked them.

After setting down the last item, he takes half a step back.

Then, he gets down on one knee, tilting his head upwards to look at me.

Gavin: Goddess of Nature, I give you all of these offerings. Please bestow blessings upon me, protect my country, and crown me.

Gavin: And please make a long-lasting agreement with me, to become my queen, and to keep me company.

Gavin: Till death do us part.

Gavin looks at me, his sentiments and tenderness condensing into honey coloured amber.

Sunlight filters through the leaves, landing on his face like a kiss, making his eyes bright and glittering.

MC: [blushing] I...

Before I can respond, Griffy caws happily, giving me a nudge from behind, causing me to fall into Gavin’s arms.

MC: [blushing] Griffy! I didn’t raise you to be this big so you could do that!

I grumble, pretending to be stern. Then, I close my eyes defeatedly, burying my head in Gavin’s arms, not wanting him to have a clear view of my blushing face.

Gavin’s soft chuckle and his breaths land on my ears, akin to the first tender breeze in early summer.

Gavin: I used to worry that the reason for our interactions was due to that prior agreement. 

Gavin: Once the agreement ended, you would no longer have a connection to me. 

Gavin: I was troubled by this for a while, and also tried to delay that day from arriving. 

Gavin: But one day, I made a decision. 

Gavin: Instead of holding on to that past agreement, why don’t I make a new vow instead.

Gavin tilts his chin towards those treasures.

Gavin: But I don’t want you to simply be a goddess who responds to my prayers.

Gavin: This journey was meant for you to understand that my feelings for you aren’t simply the dependence humans have towards their guardian deities.

Gavin: I just don’t know how effective it was...

Gavins speaks, averting his gaze.

Recalling the hints and occasional bashfulness during the journey, I finally understand everything, and my face turns incomparably red.

MC: [blushing] Right from the beginning, you already...

Gavin coughs softly.

Gavin: So, are you willing?

Watching as his eyes draw increasingly nearer to me, it’s as though a pot of honey has been overturned in my heart, and all the flowers seem to be blooming at the same time.

I lift my hand.

MC: I’m the deity who controls the land, forests, and all the animals.

MC: I hereby make an agreement with you-

The forest seems to respond to my words. Birds outstretch their wings, trees rustle, and the land releases a faint humming sound.

Light flickers at my fingertips, akin to a sprouting bud as it flows and spreads over Gavin’s crown.

MC: I will always protect your kingdom. May your land be forever fertile, and may your kingdom forever be peaceful.

My power weaves my words into an unbreakable vow between us.

As a goddess, these are the strongest blessings I can give to him.

With a small smile, I continue speaking. Softly, I give him the blessings from me as MC, and also my response.

MC: I will also share my life with you, and my power.

MC: I will accompany you for a long time, until the destruction of the earth.

A light blooms, encasing us within it.

Gavin doesn’t speak, and simply looks at me.

I recall the day we saw the sea together, and recall the fluttering light blue petals, and the gaze he had when he stared afar off.

I’m guessing that his gaze has finally found a dwelling place.

The rays of light around us gradually recede, and the vow is established.

This isn’t a lengthy ceremony, nor does it involve complicated steps.

But we have cast a connection different from before - one which is unique in the world.

Having used my powers, I lean into Gavin’s arms, looking at the same sky together.

MC: Aren’t you going to say something?

Gavin: Erm... you really looked like a goddess earlier.

There doesn’t seem to be a change in or relationship. However, there’s a certain sweetness in our dialogue.

MC: I am a goddess! Wait, that’s not what I was referring to. May I invite Your Majesty, who has obtained the goddess’ blessings through his own strength, share his thoughts with us?

Gavin pretends to ponder over this seriously.

Gavin: I just remembered that there’s one thing I haven’t done. I plan to make another trip to the dwarves’ nation.

MC: Did you forget something?

Gavin pulls me up, and we stand together. He pats Griffy, getting it ready to set out.

Gavin: I mentioned before that I’d personally craft a ring for my queen.

Gavin: You also promised that you’d pluck the most beautiful flowers in the forest to make a wedding bouquet.

Gavin: I look forward to seeing it when I return.

🐦 MOMENTS 🐦

Gavin’s Post: If griffins really existed, they'd probably feel quite nice.

MC: Would a griffin’s fur feel like a bird’s or a lion’s?

Gavin: ...I have never thought about this question.

-

Gavin’s Post: If griffins really existed, they'd probably feel quite nice.

MC: If only we could rear one!

Gavin: We might need a larger courtyard to let it build a nest.

-

Gavin’s Post: If griffins really existed, they'd probably feel quite nice.

MC: I really want to bury my face in it...

Gavin: Even though we don’t have a griffin, we could ask Flyer if its willing.

🐦 Calls: First ll Second

🐦 Support the cafe by dropping by the tip jar!

[sup-hoes-its-me]

A Hero (Shinsou x Reader)

A/N: okay so shinsou is such a cool character, kinda relatable tbh, so here we go. Friends to lovers, lots of fluff, cuteness. It took a lot of strength to take a break from writing my fav bakugo lol.

tw: you almost get assaulted

word count: 4400

Part One/ Part Two/ Part Three

So technically, Y/N wasn’t related to the Bakugos at all. She was the orphaned child of a family friend, who died a horrific hero’s death when she was only a couple years old. Without any other relatives in the area to adopt her, Y/N’s mother’s best friend took in the two year old, despite the trouble of raising two toddlers being quite daunting. Yet, her quirk wasn’t very dangerous nor special like Katsuki, so she wasn’t hard to manage in that area. Just a shy little girl, confused at the transition after the loss of her parents.

Y/N was never very strong willed like her new family. She was passive, the perfect representation of type B personality. Dependent, reliant, and fearful of adversity. The only reason she was never mercilessly bullied in her primary days was a result of her “brother’s” unrelenting defensiveness. He was an asshole, very much so, but he never let anyone pick fun at the girl. Not only did he kinda, sorta love her unconditionally as a silbing should, but his mother would murder him for not standing up for her.

But when they both got into U.A, suddenly the two weren’t equals anymore, nor would he always be by her side to watch out for her. Y/N was left behind in class C, while he soared into the top hero course. Y/N was support for the soon-to-be pros, not that she minded. The girl knew how weak she was, and unless she had a change of heart and decided to work harder on her quirk, she would never be able to succeed. She wasn’t motivated like those in Class A. Y/N never wanted the responsibility of being so good people relied on her, civilians putting all their faith into her. It was nerve wracking.

On the first day of class, Y/n said goodbye to her parents and walked to class with her brother. He carried both their bags, one on each shoulder, eyes staring straight ahead, brows furrowed with irritation as per usual. She kept her hands clasped behind her back, wandering slowly next to him, head hung. 

She was scared, admittedly. This school was huge and so prestigious. How could she ever compare to the others there? It was impossible.

“Stop being such a baby.”

“Katsuki-”

“You’re gonna be fine, and you know it. You’re more powerful than those losers anyway, if only you tried,” he grunted, turning the corner to see dozens of other students in their uniforms walking around and entering the school. She bit her lip and sighed, wringing her fingers out of nervousness. “Seriously, don’t make yourself out to be a weakling. People will target you if you do.”

She paused, not taking another step as she confessed, “I know what I should do, it’s just putting that ideal into practice that gets me everytime.” 

Time was running close to class starting, and he rolled his eyes down to her slightly quivering form. Handing her her bag, he told her calmly, “Listen, if anyone bothers you, I’m two doors down anyway. Just call me right after class if something happens, got it?” With a nod, he patted her on the head and walked away to the main entrance. 

Her eyes drew up the high building, taking in all the shiny windows and the huge shape of an H made out of the numerous floors. This place was bigger than she had ever imagined, and that only scared her more. Yeah, it was bigger because it housed a lot of students who needed room to exercise their quirks, plus they were a very wealthy institution. 

She had to tell herself that just because the building was scary certainly did not mean that the people inside were just as bad.

So she held her head a bit higher and walked through the crowds of students. She tried to remember where the counselor told her her classroom was, so she didn’t embarrass herself by getting lost on her first day. 

Yet, that was exactly what she did. The school was just too big, and she was too anxious about her first day to think properly. So, with tears gathering in her eyes, she watched at the time ticked by on the clock. Her nightmares were filled with this scenario. Showing up late on her first day and everyone in the class laughing at her. 

“Are you lost?” a voice deep and smooth spoke up behind her, and she jumped a couple inches in the air, placing a hand over her heart after it started to rapidly beat with shock.

She turned her head, brushing her loose hairs from her eyes. He stared down at her with an almost bored expression, just as his voice had sounded. He was tall, and very purple. Dark undereyes, wild violet hair in every direction. She didn’t really know what to think of him other than he was unique, dare she even say attractive in a strange way. He looked older than her, probably 16 or 17 even, based off his height and old soul aura he radiated. One thing she did notice about him though, was he felt gentle, passive and even a bit dismissive. It wasn’t the least bit intimidating, and she relaxed. 

“Yeah…” she mumbled, a bit embarrassed.

He nodded, crossing his arms over his chest. “Seems we’re in the same boat.”

“Where are you headed?”

“Class 1-C,” he hummed, beginning to walk forward again. She told him meekly that she was going to the same class, and he raised a brow. “Really? What’s your quirk?”

“My quirk is kinda lame.”

A small smile crept at the edge of his lip, her embarrassment and shy attitude amusing him. “And what would that be?”

“Well, it’s kinda weird so don’t make fun of it. I can um- well, my blood is highly basic and burns any skin issue it touches,” the girl mumbled sheepishly, rubbing the back of her neck. Her cheeks burned so much she felt like she had a fever. This is why she never liked to talk about her quirk. It was just plain absurd and kinda disgusting. Every time she used her quirk she had to slice her skin and sprinkle blood everywhere. “But, like, it does so much damage to me to lose blood that often I can rarely use my quirk.”

He nodded. “That’s definitely strange, you’re right,” he stated bluntly, and her heart stopped beating for a moment. “But useful. Really don’t know why you’d be embarrassed about it. Just because you don’t have endurance doesn’t mean strategy and technique can’t make up for that.”

Y/N caught up to him, walking at his side now although his strides were longer and harder to keep up with. She looked up to him, feeling a bit at ease seeing as he wasn’t rude about her quirk. “What’s your quirk?”

He didn’t miss a beat, his gruff voice sounding bitter and angry with his next words, “Something I’d rather not talk about. Don’t want you to spread rumors and lies about me.” 

She had never heard someone so visceral about their own quirk. It couldn’t be that terrible, not to mention she wasn’t rude like the people he must have encountered before. She felt a pang in her chest, knowing that this reaction was no doubt from prior experience being hurt. 

With a short shake of her head, she replied, “It’s okay, if you don’t tell me, but I wouldn’t judge you for your quirk, and definitely not gossip about it. I don’t have the social skills to do that kind of thing.” She laughed awkwardly. The bell rang overhead, signalling the beginning of the first period. They were officially late. “Oh, crap. We better hurry.”

“For what? We’re already late, doesn’t matter if it’s by a minute or ten.”

“I-I don’t know about that one.”

As they entered the stairwell to head up the stairs, he turned to her and paused, staring into her eyes deeply. She blinked, seeing so much purple looking in her direction. Quickly, she averted her gaze, and tucked her hands behind her back out of nervous habit. 

“I’ll tell you about my quirk if you promise me one thing.”

She opened her mouth to agree but then shook her head. Don’t just make promises to strangers, Y/N, so stupid. “Um, depends on the promise.”

He took a deep breath, never taking his eyes off of her own averted ones. Waves of pain radiated from his form, hitting her square in the chest. “Just don’t call me a monster or shit like that.” And that was the moment she felt her entire heart crumble in her chest for this boy she had just met. He expected her to think of him like a monster for something as silly as his quirk? She wanted to cry for him, being as sensitive as she was. 

“I promise.”

He started walking up the stairs again, done with his intense observation of her face, except it felt to her like he was examining a portion of her soul, her compassion. It seems he saw something he liked in her. 

“My quirk is brainwashing, or mind control, if you want to call it that.”

Her eyes widened at the words, not believing that someone so powerful was right beside her, in the same class as her even. “Like, what do you do?’

“If a person verbally responds to me, I then have complete control over anything they do.”

“That is so sick,” she whispered under her breath, but he still heard her. His brows quirked up, and he gazed down at her.”Sorry, I just think that’s a really amazing quirk.” She smiled sheepishly, her eyes reaching his. He almost had to look away once he saw the sparkle of excitement and admiration in her gaze. Those emotions were directed towards him…

As they walked past a classroom, a loud voice called from inside the room. “Bakugo Y/N and Shinsou Hitoshi. I believe you’re late to my class.”

She rushed into the classroom in front of him and he followed. They conveniently were directed to the back of the classroom, two seats directly next to each other. She took a seat in hers and he slumped down in his, rolling his eyes at the glare the teacher had given him. 

He looked over at the girl beside him, who he now knew as Bakugo Y/N. She peeked over at him, and a small smile grew on her soft lips, the bit of sparkle still present in her gaze towards him. He smothered down the urge to smile back, just lifted the corner of his lip in return. 

Shinsou wasn’t exactly interested in making friends. He didn’t need them. This girl, though, he wouldn’t mind if she stuck around.

______________________________________

“So, uh, Y/N, do you need someone to walk you home?” Shinsou asked as they shuffled out of the nearly empty classroom save for a few stragglers. “Not that you aren’t capable of walking yourself home, it’s just that-”

“It’s fine. And actually someone already walks home with me, so no.”

He cringed, feeling awkward now. He shouldn’t have been so forward with this impending friendship. They had just met, she probably didn’t want some weirdo knowing where she lived either. “Oh, gotcha.”

“In fact, there he is,” she smiled, waving to a particularly angry blond walking down the hall with his hands shoved deep in the pockets of his sagging pants. Shinsou cringed even harder at this point, not expecting her to already have a guy walking her home. She probably didn’t have much room for another good guy friend in her life, he thought, obviously overthinking things. “Katsuki! How was class?”

He frowned, shaking his head. “Deku made a fool of himself as usual, but it wasn’t awful,” the boy replied as his eyes slid from his sister to the daunting guy beside her. “Who’s this?”

“This is my new friend, Shinsou. He helped me find the classroom this morning since we’re in the same class.” Katsuki blinked in surprise, definitely not expecting his shy little sister to already have made a friend. It took her years of middle school just to have a few close acquaintances. 

“I gotta get going. My mom is expecting me home soon,” Shinsou told the girl, even if he was lying. He could go home at any time he wanted, he just didn’t want to feel awkward anymore. This guy was obviously close to her, and was giving him the evil eye for a minute now. Possessive much?

“Wait, before you go, let me introduce you to my brother.”

“Brother?’ he asked aloud. They didn’t look alike, like, at all. Nor did their personalities seem to resemble each other in any way.

“This is my brother Katsuki. He’s a class 1-A hot shot.” A pang of relief turned his stomach.

“Yeah, uh, nice to meet you.”

The blond rolled his eyes, gruffly brushing off the purple haired boy’s greeting.“Yeah, yeah, whatever. Y/N, are you ready to go?”

Y/N sighed, waving softly to Shinsou, a smile ever present on her lips when she looked at him. She mouthed as she walked away, ‘sorry’, and he just waved. 

Maybe he was a creep for watching her as she left, waiting for her to turn a corner before he let out a breath of air. All he knew was that he felt as if he was sucked in a trance. His heart felt heavy in his chest, as if it were about to explode. The feelings were so foreign but pleasant, some of the best he had ever experienced.

It just felt so good to see someone’s warm smile directed at him, not an ounce of malice behind a guise.

Yeah…He really, really liked her. 

_____________________________

The pair were friends. Honestly, Y/N was the only person you could get him to admit, albeit begrudgingly, that she was his friend. They trained together, and he assisted her a lot with her quirk. There were times when they were training alone and she lost too much blood that she would pass out and he would carry her to the infirmary. Time and time again though, teachers told him in private to monitor her. It was unhealthy to constantly lose pints of blood, and she wouldn’t be able to do it on the daily even if she wanted to. Since he and her brother were the only people she truly listened to and appreciated advice from, Shinsou recognized it as a sort of duty to take care of her.

Yet, with a bit more encouragement at the new school from dozens of teachers and other students, she actually improved on her quirk quite a lot. It wasn’t as if she had a useless quirk; it was very powerful in fact. She could burn directly through someone’s skin and the bone if enough blood was spilled. Therefore, the quirk could only be exercised in moderation.

For the first time in his life, someone actually trusted him. Not once did he consider using his quirk on her. Not only was she perfect on her own, but if he betrayed her trust like that, he might lose his closest friend. She was kind, but he wasn’t sure where her limits lied.

“Are you sure you’re okay walking home alone?” he asked his friend, who sat beside him packing up her books. Katsuki was out for the day with the flu, so she would be walking back home alone. He was kinda worried about her. She never walked by herself, always having the protection of her brother. 

But she was a strong girl. There was nothing to worry about. He had seen her fight and she was definitely capable. It was just overthinking that sent his anxiety through the roof.

“Yes, I’m totally fine,” she laughed, finding his concern humorous. “You live in the opposite direction. I’m not gonna make you walk me 20 blocks out of your way.”

Although he nodded in understanding, he definitely did not agree. He would walk all over the city for her if she needed him to. Still, when it came time to part ways on the sidewalk, they waved and went in opposite directions. It was only after five excruciatingly long minutes that the lanky boy turned and started walking in the direction of her home. Even though he shouldn’t have, and easily could have texted her, he wanted to make sure she made it home. He knew the general direction of her house, and if he walked moderately fast, he could catch up to her. 

So what if she didn’t want him walking an extra 30 minutes? If that made her annoyed, so be it.

Y/N walked slowly down the street as she usually did, her feet tapping lightly against the sidewalk. If she were being honest, she was a bit disappointed in herself for refusing Shinsou’s offer to walk her home. They would have a lot more time to talk in person before the weekend, and she never wanted to miss a beat with him. 

Maybe it was stupid of her to be so attached but she thought of him as her best friend, practically the only true one she ever had. Dozens of people came and went from her life, but this friendship felt so special. It would last a long time she thought, and hopefully she was right.

Unfortunately, she was too lost in her own dreamy thoughts to notice someone standing right at the edge of the alley she walked by in a particularly deserted area of town. A hand reached and snatched up her arm swiftly, yanking her into the darkness of the alley and covering her mouth with his other grimey hand before she could make a sound.

Her back hit the cold wall behind her, feeling the rough bricks scratch her shoulder blades through her uniform. Her wrist felt like it was on fire, burning from the harsh grip of the snatcher. Using his knee, he pinned her other hand to the wall at her side,  completely immobilizing her. She could have used her quirk, if she was able to produce some sort of blood-pouring injury, only she was trapped.

“Don’t fucking scream, you hear me?”

He removed his hand from her mouth for a moment to reach for his pocket, and as he did so, she let out the loudest scream she possibly could. Just as the sound came from her mouth, a cold object pressed against her throat and her heart stopped beating in her chest from sheer terror. 

To think she was a hero in training at U.A., and she couldn’t even defend herself from a quirkless criminal on the street. She felt like crying, feeling a knife against her throat, wrists held down. If only she was just a little smarter or a little stronger; anything to get her out his mess. The air was tense and heavy, and she could barely get a breath in without feeling the bitterness of the blade against her skin. 

She prayed, closing her eyes and letting the hot tears drip down her cheeks. If only someone would come and help. All Might was always there to help people, wasn’t he? Where was he? She couldn’t hope for her brother to back her up as he was sick at home, and she definitely couldn’t text Shinsou to come get her. Her phone was tucked safely in her backpack where she couldn’t dream of reaching.

God, she was hopeless. 

The thug opened his mouth to say something else no doubt cruel or vulgar, but just as the first syllable fell from his chapped lips, a shocked voice echoed down the alleyway.

“Y/N?”

Her eyes widened at the voice, relief running throughout her entire body. 

“Dumb punk, kid, just run off now.”

“No.”

“You don’t want to mess with-”

That reply was all it took for Shinsou to take control. The thug felt all control of his body lost in the air and a sort of tenseness to take over. “Drop the knife,” the student commanded, and the man indeed dropped the rusty knife to the ground, a metallic clang rang out in the darkness. “Now back away.” And so he did. 

Tha man sputtered, not knowing what was happening to his body or why he was doing these things. His face turned a bright shade of red and he threw a dirty glare at Shinsou Hitoshi, hating him with every sense of the word for making him look this pathetic. 

“Now stand still right there like the piece of shit you are. Move, and I will kill you,” he said calmly. Before turning to Y/N. “I’ll be right back with someone to help. I saw an officer go into the coffee shop across the street.” 

When he left, she inched away from the man, watching as he couldn’t do more than just stand there and look completely bewildered. A mind control quirk definitely wasn’t something you see everyday. Plus, he probably was facing the realization that he would be arrested and sent to jail to get his ass kicked by quirk users there.

He came back with a couple officers and pointed out the situation, explaining what he saw when he came to the alley. They asked Y/N for a quick statement and she just reaffirmed what Shinsou had told them and added how she was walking home alone and he grabbed her when no one was looking. And so they took him away, thanking the kids for helping catch the guy, who apparently had tried to assault and rob other women in the area recently.

That was a close call, the closest one she’d ever encountered actually. 

As they exited the alleyway, she felt sick to her stomach from what had happened, stress filling up her chest and threatening to burst out in the form of tears, only she composed herself the best she could to be strong. There really was no need to be strong. Shinsou was her friend. He was kind and brave and very intelligent, but most importantly he was kind to her. If she cried, he wouldn’t shame her. But she still felt the pressure to keep them from falling. “Shinsou-”

“I’m so glad I turned around to follow you. I swear, it’s almost like I knew something bad was going to happen, I just knew it,” he mumbled more to himself than her, really. He looked down at her finally, his eyes searching hers for any sign of distress. She looked terribly shaken up, but no tears were falling. “Are you okay? Did that guy hurt you or anything?”

“No, nothing else happened,” she told him. “I-I can’t believe you came to save me. I’m so grateful, I don’t even know what to say. I felt so helpless back there without my quirk at disposal.”

“It’s okay. It’s over now, and you’re alright. That’s all I could really hope for.” He looked down the street and then back to her, flashing a weak grin. “You wouldn’t mind if I walked you home from here, would you?” he asked, to which she silently shook her head. So, he began walking and she followed very closely behind, so close that he could feel her arm brushing against his. He figured she was scared enough, a little bit of  friendly comfort was going to help her out. She obviously didn’t want to speak, too shocked to say anything much.

After a minute or two of walking, he felt her hand slip its way sneakily into his own, tightly grabbing on as if he was going to yank it away from her. Although he could feel how shaky her hand was, it was so warm and soft against his cold and rough hands. Her fingers fit perfectly between his own. It was sappy of him to think, but jeez, it felt like those hands were meant to interlock. It just felt so fucking good. 

He shoved down those selfish feelings. Y/N was just attacked, and he was thinking about how he felt. He shook his head subconsciously, knowing that he was being rude. She was holding his hand because she desperately needed to feel safe and comfortable, not because it necessarily felt nice. She would probably hold the hand of any random dude that saved her like that. Jesus, Shinsou, so dumb. Get a damn grip, you sap.

He squeezed her hand back reassuringly. He wasn’t sure what she was feeling, but he hoped he was helping.

Her house was relatively close to the spot she was grabbed, so it was a short walk. Part of him wished it had been longer so he could have spent more time with her hand held in his. As they stopped at her doorstep, she dropped his hand and went to grab the strap of her bookbag anxiously, eyes hidden from his view. 

“Shinsou, thank you for stepping in back there. I really can’t tell you enough how much I appreciate that.”

With a wave of his hand absentmindedly, he brushed off her praise and thanks. “Don’t thank me. Anyone would have done the same, you know.” he didn’t feel like he deserves any thanks. He barely did shit back there except say a few words, and she was thanking him. Anyone would have done the same. He wasn’t special. He wouldn’t be special with the quirk he possessed. 

But god, the way she looked at him in that way, adoration and admiration staring into his eyes, completely entranced with him; it made him feel invincible, like he was on top of the world for a lifetime. He would never forget the shine in her beautiful e/c eyes in that moment, he swore it. That was a memory he’d hate to lose.

“I-I know- It’s just that…well…” Her words trailed off into silence before he felt her reach up abruptly to wrap her arms around his shoulders, falling to rest against him. He caught his balance last second, not expecting that of all things. Her head rested snuggly in the meet of his shoulder and neck, hot breath tickling his skin there. He tensed at the sudden embrace, but nevertheless wrapped his arms around her shoulders, bringing her closer. He could feel her shaking once again, and her rapid heartbeat pounded against his quickening one.

“Hitoshi,” she whispered, “You are my hero.”

Shivers ran down his spine at those simple five words, laced together by the most angelic voice he’d heard before.

That took his breath right from his lungs. He was her hero. A real hero. That was all he wanted in his life, to show people that he could be someone’s savior. The feeling of the one person he cared for more than anything saying those words to him. The feeling was unbelievable.

She pulled away after a silent moment, and waved to him gently, taking a step up to the entrance of her house. “I’ll see you on Monday, okay?” she said sheepishly, feeling something weird herself after that hug. Her skin felt all warm and gooey, like she was going to fall apart at any moment or her knees would collapse beneath her.

“Y/N, if you need anything, you know you can call me night or day, I don’t care,” he called after her. “I swear, anything for you, Y/N.”

“Thank you, Shinsou-kun.” 

“Bye, Y/N.”

“Bye.”

“You’ll call me sometime, right? So I can make sure you’re feeling better?”

“If you want.”

“Of course.”

“Okay. I promise I’ll call.”

“Yeah, well, bye then.”

“Yeah, bye-bye.”

She shut the door finally, catching the eye of her brother immediately.

Katsuki stood in the living room of their home, sipping some soup with a spoon, blanket wrapped around his shoulders. He raised a brow when she peered over at him, obviously having seen what happened outside through the front window. “What was that about, Y/N? Care to explain why that boy was all over you?”

“Shut up, Katsuki.”

He grunted, rolling his eyes at her reply. “Hey, I’m just worried for you. You can’t trust teenage boys. Take it from me since I am one. ”His voice was quite hoarse from the sore throat he had that morning, and he sounded like a frog whenever he spoke. How could she possibly take him seriously? 

“He’s just my friend. You really don’t have to lecture me on anything,” she replied, crossing her arms over her chest.

“Sure, sure.”

She waved off how annoying he was, and walked down the hall to her room. When she shut the door behind her, she finally felt herself heat up with embarrassment. Shinsou Hitoshi held her hand the whole way home. He saved her like the glorious hero he always wanted to be. The feeling of relief she felt when she heard him enter the alleyway and call for her, it made her heart melt. She would definitely take up his offer and call him over the weekend, just to hear his soothing voice in her ear. Just hearing him, or even thinking about him made a smile grow on her cheeks. 

She wasn’t sure what she felt for him. If it was simply a friendship or if her attachments were growing into something more.

Y/N just really, really liked him.

_____________ 

 Part two coming later this week. Should it be angst or fluff? I’m torn

[divinityoswin]

chocolate bar

Commission for: @ask-wbp-b @mushroomgrenade ❤

➵ my commissions are open!

summary: Snapshots of B’s relationship with Roger, told through chocolate.

wordcount: 2024

characters: Roger & B (OC)

Warnings: mild mentions of character death

It’s a day like any other, and yet somehow the captain of the Roger pirates is as exhilarated as ever.  True, B hadn’t exactly had the time to know Gol D. Roger (not Gold Roger, he had made very clear when introducing himself to her for the first time - it didn’t help that when she tried to say she knew already, her fingers glitched) but her knowledge of the future provides insight into the future King’s personality.

He is like a child, almost, in that joyful way he views the world.  Yet there’s something much older and wiser within him, something that calls for allies.  For every battle won, Roger celebrates their victory - and also their lives.  And they’d only won two battles since B had joined them.

A week has come and gone since Whitebeard gave her his blessing to go sail with Roger, and in that time she’s made friends with most of the crew.  Shanks and Rayleigh were the most welcoming at the time, the latter going as far as to give her a tour of the crew and introduce her to all her new shipmates personally.  Roger, of course, was warm too, but it was hard to talk to him, much less reach him, what with all the commotion happening all.  The damn.  Time.

B sits underneath the mast, relishing in the rare moment of serenity in the Oro Jackson with a cup of tea by her side and notepads on the other.  There is absolutely nothing that could ruin this moment.

“Hey, B!”

Nothing at all.

“B-eeeeeee!”

She refuses to look at the intruder - one because they had just interrupted a very relaxing moment, and two because they’d been getting a resounding headache overtime from the excessive partying.  

The intruder huffs, and from the corner of her eye she sees a pink sleeve with a hand resting on a hip.  Her gaze follows up, frowning, and wondering why that voice is so familiar - and then it hits her.

“Roger!” she exclaims.  He’s never singled her out like this before.  Not even when she begged Pops to let her go with him. “Oh, I thought you were an insect.”

Roger frowns. “What does that mean?”

“Annoying,” she says, poking her tongue out playfully.  

It’s almost surreal to her, that she can banter with Roger like this.  She expects him to shout out a quick “hey!” of defiance, but is caught off-guard when he throws his head back and laughs.  That hearty, deep rumble that somehow sounds like the ocean’s tides echoes throughout the deck, and although she’s used to it by now, the power it wielded was still unfathomable.  Roger’s laughter slowly turns into chuckles, until finally it stops, and he wipes at the corner of his eyes.

“You guys always say that, but you’re the ones following me!” Roger says. “Maybe I ain’t so annoying after all, hm?” He smirks and nudges B with his elbow.

The fact that he includes her in his crew already doesn’t slip past her.  She tilts her head, staring at her new captain with interest. “Did you need something?”

“Nope,” he replies, grinning. “Just checking up on you.  We haven’t had much of a chance to talk yet.”

“You’re always surrounded by adoring fans,” B says.

He feigns a sigh. “It’s tough being so famous.  Marines are always after my autograph.”

The pair glance at each other and hold back laughter - try to, that is.  It doesn’t take long for the two to erupt into giggles, before they begin guffawking and holding in their stomachs.  Roger is the first to recover.  B takes a little while longer, mostly because she couldn’t believe the absurdity of the situation.  When she finally stops, she looks up to him.

Roger is smiling, brighter than even the sun, and she feels as though they could conquer the world together.

Suddenly she understands why so many people were attracted to him.  His personality was like a magnet, drawing people in and sticking them to him.  He isn’t nearly the demon others made him out to be, yet at the same time that power is so terrifying that she understands why.

Mihawk was right.

“So,” Roger begins, “you feeling good about this ship?”

She looks around. “I mean.  It’s nice?  I’m not much of a shipwright, but I like the wood.”

“Tom’ll be glad to hear that!” Roger laughs. “But that’s not what I meant.”

“Oh?”

Roger sits down next to her, his legs crossed and his hands resting on his thighs.  He looks to be deep in thought. “I meant - the crew.  You feeling alright?  It’s a whole new crew for you,” he says.

Ah.  Now that makes sense.  Her now-captain is worried for her wellbeing, making sure she’s getting along well with everyone.  Ensuring that his newest member didn’t feel left out.  A soft giggle passes over B’s lips at the prospect that anyone of Roger’s crew would be unwelcoming.  Even the teenage Buggy had been nothing but warm to her since her arrival on the ship (though, with Buggy he tried to be tough and scary - keyword being tried).  

“It’s a wonderful crew,” she says, “with a wonderful captain.”

Roger’s grin grows even wider, as if that were physically possible.  He shines brighter than the sun. “A wonderful captain, eh?  Now that’s a compliment from a gorgeous lady!”

B doesn’t bother hiding her blush.  Roger would somehow sense it, anyway - he always does have a sixth sense for that kind of thing.  So, instead, she leans against him playfully, feeling the salty ocean breeze across her face as she looks up.  Roger smells of berries and the sea itself, she muses. 

“I brought you a gift,” he says. “Just a small welcoming present.  Don’t feel the need to pay me back.”

In her hands sits a box, placed there by the future Pirate King himself.  It’s a light box, simple, plain - a tangled mess she assumes is supposed to be a bowtie is tied on the front.  

“Rayleigh did that,” Roger lies. 

Curious, she removes the bow and opens the box.  

Chocolates.  Dozens of them littered inside - it’s not exactly a pre-brought box, and she notices a couple of them are half-eaten, but the sentiment is enough for her.  Smiling, she picks up a piece (not one of the half-eaten ones, she doesn’t want to know whose fault that was) and plops it into her mouth.

The chocolate instantly melts inside, the sweet sensation - with a hint of salt from the ocean breeze - bringing pure bliss to her mouth.  B savoured the taste, having not tasted some since - when was the last time she had some?  Whitebeard didn’t usually have it on his ship, so there was a very real possibility it was before then.  She is at least grateful it’s milk chocolate too - not too sweet, and not too bitter.  She swallows, and grins.

“You know the best way to a girl’s heart is by chocolates, huh?” B says, munching down on another one.  

Roger shrugs. “If anyone tells you I only got you them so I could snitch them off you, they’re lying,” he says, but in a playful manner, so B assumes he’s joking around.  

“Oh?  And just who ate half of these already?”

“I told you, Rayleigh.”

“Really?”

“Mm-hmm,” Roger whistles, averting his eyes from B.  B sets the box of chocolates down and leans over to his field of vision.  He looks the other way, and B leans the other way.  Finally, he looks up, seemingly intently focused on the clouds, and B kicks him in the shin because he’s only looking where B cannot go, and he knows B is not tall enough for that, and - oh, dear God, B just kicked the future King of the Pirates.  The captain of the Roger Pirates.  Roger himself.

He’s hissing in pain, hopping on one leg and holding his other knee close to his chest as he rubs it.  For a moment, B’s confused - honestly, she didn’t hit him that hard, did she?  

But he’s glancing over at her expectantly every-so-often, pausing in-between moans of pain, as if he’s expecting her to do something.  Like nurse him.

B rolls her eyes.

“Yeah, good luck with that,” she says, and begins her walk towards the kitchen to get an ice pack.  Not for Roger, of course.  

* * *

They’d found themselves soaring high up into the sky, much higher than anything they’d ever seen before -  not even Reverse Mountain, according to those who were there back when they traversed up it - could compare to the sheer height of Skypiea.  The Oro Jackson had survived the knock-up stream (with, thankfully, no one hurt) and the citizens greeted them with curiosity and wonder.

Now, they’re scattered over Angel Beach, sipping on pumpkin smoothies and enjoying the brief period of relaxation that has been bestowed upon them.  The Roger Pirates almost feel right at home here.  Almost.

B sips on her smoothie - it’s okay, she thinks, she doesn’t dislike it.  But she doesn’t particularly love it either.  Pumpkin isn’t exactly a tropical drink.  It doesn’t fit the mood right.  Sighing, she leans back on the lounge chair until she was laying on her back, staring at the cloudless sky.  

If memory serves her correctly - which, honestly, had been somewhat of a struggle as time passed - this is the time that Roger carves his name into the Poneglyph.  Which means that their journey had reached somewhat of a halfway point.  That, eventually, Roger would… well.  The thought sours her mood completely, leaving her brooding away from the rest of the crew and glitching ever-so-slightly.  If the others notice, they don’t say a word - save for Shanks, who wants to know if B would like to watch him drop a crab down Buggy’s shorts.  She denies, and he runs off, looking mildly concerned for her.

A sigh passes through her lips.

“Beli for your thoughts?” The voice of her captain surprises her, almost causing her to drop her smoothie. “Wait - don’t tell me.  I don’t wanna hear spoilers.”

“I almost dropped my smoothie,” B says, turning to give Roger an unamused glance. 

“Ah, but you didn’t!” Roger replies, sipping on his own drink - a conasshu, one of the locals had called it.  He looks a bit ridiculous, with a hibiscus planted in his hair, his open shirt stitched together with a tropical flora pattern, and swimming shorts to top the look all off.  Even his sandals scream tourist. “Shanks told me you were looking a bit down - everyone did, really.”

“Oh.”

There’s an awkward silence that passes between them.  B finishes off the last of her drink, the slurping sound seeming like thunder in her head.  Then, white noise.  Even when  Roger yells something to Buggy, distracting the poor boy for a brief moment.

Buggy yelps in pain.

Almost instantly, the silence is broken, broken by Roger’s laughter and his absolute joy in the scene in front of him, and B forgets about everything, and laughs too.

“By the way, present for you,” Roger says, handing over a piece of chocolate. “We found some on Jaya.  Thought you’d appreciate it.”

B takes it and frowns.

“Someone’s taken a bite out of it,” she says.

“Yeah, I told Rayleigh not to, but you know how he is.”  Roger grins, placing his hands on his hips and shining brighter than even the sun - a difficult thing to do this high up in the atmosphere. “Always stealing food, that damn first mate.”

“Rayleigh, huh,” B repeats.  She takes a bit out of the chocolate - it’s a bit too bitter for her tastes, but it’s fine.

Roger gasps. “Indirect kiss!”

“Oh, shut up.”

* * *

The bell rings.  Once, twice, thrice - then, there’s the muffled jeers, the cries of joy that are distant and oh-so-cruel.  

B sits by herself, alone at a bar, and downs another glass of whiskey.  She doesn’t know where the rest of the crew are now.  Maybe they’ve scattered all over the place.  Maybe some of them have settled down.

A half-melted, half-eaten chocolate, still wrapped in foil, sits in her pocket.

[howtowhumpyourhiccup]

Comfortember Day 4: Aerophobia

Summary: Written for Comfortember Day 4. Set after Httyd 2. Hiccup never thought he would ever be afraid to fly. Today, that is a fear he has to conquer.

Rating: General

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

Pairing: Hiccstrid

Words: 2 029

Fandom: How to Train Your Dragon

Prompt: “Anxiety”

Whumpee: Hiccup

Author’s Notes: This was an interesting one to work on, mainly because you wouldn't expect Hiccup, of all people, to ever be afraid of flying.

Constructive criticism is appreciated!

Enjoy!

Ao3

--------------------------------------------------------------------------

Hiccup has to take a deep, deep breath to calm his racing heart. The saddle creaking beneath him, the feeling of the handles in his hands, his dragon's powerful muscles moving, and the deep guttural sounds in his throat. He never thought any of these things would ever make him feel as nervous as they do now, but here he is.

"Are you okay, Hiccup? You know this can wait, right?" Hiccup looks towards Astrid as she sits on top of her own dragon when she talks to him. She and Stormfly are waiting for him and Toothless to take off.

Toothless gazes at his Rider from over his shoulder, crooning questioningly.

"I'm okay, I'm... I'm about as ready as I'll ever be." Hiccup tells the two of them and Stormfly, too, as her eye nearest to him focuses on him. She has quite bird-like behavior.

"Are you sure? Because you haven't flown in a long time. This is your first time since... Well..." Fishlegs asks as he worries. Not that Hiccup hasn't proven himself as the most veteran dragon rider, but it has been a while. And not only that, but it's what preceded the long period of no flying that plays a factor in Fishlegs' worrying, too.

Hiccup had a crash.

And while Hiccup isn't unfamiliar with crashing, that one had been particularly hard on him. A rogue dragon had ripped him and Toothless from the sky. A fall from that height should've killed him, but it hadn't. What it had was broken damn near every single bone in his body, his back included.

He still remembers waking up in the snow, his friends nowhere to be seen, Toothless nowhere to be seen. In pain and unable to move, he waited for hours in the cold until he was finally found.

By the time they did, night had fallen. And by the time they brought him home, there was some frostbite to treat due to the unbearably freezing temperatures. He hadn't been able to breathe properly either due to his ribs, which had gotten him sick on top of being terribly injured.

It had taken him a long, long time to recover from his injuries and still the hours of lying there, in pain and uncertain, haunt him. At some point early on, they even feared he would never walk again. His recovery has been nothing short of a miracle.

Today will be the first time he takes back to the sky and he's been both looking forward to it as well as dreading it.

Instead of answering Fishlegs' question about whether he's sure or not, Hiccup simply smiles his way. No, he isn't as sure as he would like to be, but what better time to fly than the present?

This past week or so, he's been nervous. Or rather, he's been anxiously awaiting this day to come.

He's been having bad dreams about falling again and again, his years of experience notwithstanding. And even when he's awake, whenever he thinks of the mere act of flying, there's a painful pounding inside his chest, it becomes hard to breathe, and he sweats heavily out of nowhere.

Usually, they come in waves of ten minutes to a full half an hour. Today, it's been present since morning.

Sitting on top of Toothless' back, Hiccup looks up at the sky he once called his home, too. Toothless is still patiently waiting on him to decide when they can take off, he won't do it unless Hiccup wants him, too. If Hiccup ends up deciding that taking back to the sky isn't for today, he will respect that as well.

He, himself, is itching to go, though. He's been grounded for as long as Hiccup has, barely using the automatic tailfin Hiccup told him to use while he recovered, stuck in bed for at least the first few weeks.

But he understands Hiccup's reluctance. If he were a human who survived a fall like that, he would be a little reluctant, too.

Hiccup takes his eyes off the sky and looks at Astrid and Stormfly who stand next to him and Toothless. Then he looks behind them, at the other Dragon Riders. They're all waiting, ready to take off alongside him and complete their group once more.

Having them all here with him just to help him feel safer, it makes him feel better about this.

So Hiccup turns his attention back to the cliff they're all standing on, one outside of the village.

There is no time like the present.

"Come on, Bud." His anxiety is still choking the life out of him, but he forces those words off his tongue. Toothless sinks to the ground, wings prepare for take-off, and his strong legs push him off towards the sky. The air catches his wings and they're off.

"Yeah, woo!" Snotlout can be heard behind him, his voice quickly cut off because of the wind in his ears.

Hiccup doesn't look behind him, instead focusing on keeping a tight grip on the handle and the quickly approaching clouds high above;

Toothless isn't planning on getting too high, just high enough that his Rider gets to feel that he's definitely back in the air again.

Once they reach the desired height, Toothless levels out and Hiccup allows himself to breathe. His heart is pounding in his throat, blood rushing to his ears, they're all things he hasn't felt since the first time he and Toothless flew together.

"Okay, we're up in the air." Hiccup wants to pet his Bud, but doesn't dare let go of the saddle.

"You doing okay?" Astrid asks as Stormfly levels off next to them. The other Dragon Riders are right behind them.

"Yeah! I mean, I definitely feel like my heart might actually give out on me, but yeah, I feel great!" Hiccup replies, his nervousness oozing out of every spoken word. Astrid smiles at him, seeing the stiff and not at all relaxed pose as he holds onto the handles of his saddle with a death grip.

"Just remember what you told us during our first lessons!" Barf and Belch come flying overhead, rolling through the sky. It's Tuffnut who talks to him.

"Just relax and let the dragon and the wind guide you!" Ruffnut reminds him, thoroughly enjoying the freezing winds of Berk for emphasis.

Hiccup chuckles breathily and watches them disappear from sight.

But she's right. He just needs to relax and then maybe this constricting sensation inside his chest will ease up on him. Maybe.

Toothless has a slightly more direct approach.

He roars and that's about the only warning Hiccup gets before he climbs higher with a plan in mind. That one warning is enough for his Rider, who's grip on the saddle grows with apprehension.

"Uh, what's Toothless doing?" Snotlout asks as the Night Fury leaves them all behind.

"Hopefully something that won't massively backfire," Astrid says with the beginnings of a scowl. She trusts Toothless, but the deal was that they would take this slow to avoid stressing Hiccup out as he transitions back from a life on the ground to one in the air.

His fear of experiencing another fall like the one that had grounded him for months was palpable to them all the past week.

Though he'd promised himself not to look down on his first flight, Hiccup looks back at his friends as they become smaller and smaller until they are mere dots in the distance.

"Are you sure about this, Bud? Toothless?" Hiccup has to shout in order to be heard and his dragon roars back affirmingly. To him, this is the best possible plan.

Hiccup can feel that his heart is ready to burst out of his chest and can't look at the height anymore, instead choosing to stare at his saddle, which he lies flat against to reduce the drag.

He closes his eyes, consciously breathing in and out to keep himself calm as he feels Toothless take him higher and higher. He can feel the rapid change in pressure.

And then he stops and Hiccup has felt the familiar feeling of passing through a cloud, his hair and face now coated in a thin layer of water droplets.

Toothless croons loudly and Hiccup opens his eyes, finding the two of them above the clouds stained with orange and yellow from the setting sun.

Hiccup holds his breath, but not because he's anxious. The breathtaking beauty of the sky has enraptured him once again and he realizes how much he has missed these views.

"And now down, Bud?" Hiccup asks with a tone that sounds a little more filled with hope than dread.

Upon hearing this, Toothless, filled with determination to correct a wrong, turns his nose down and dives. Wings folding, body straight, he dives as fast as he can and Hiccup is merely there for the ride.

Though his chest is ready to burst open from the pressure inside, Hiccup can't say it's from fear or the anxiety that's kept him hostage for the past week.

They break through the cloud barrier and the vast ocean comes closer and closer. Night Furies are fast and that means the grey body of water is coming even faster than with any other species of dragons.

Still, despite the speed and his fear, Hiccup lets go of the saddle with one hand and lets the wind guide him, exactly like Ruffnut told him to.

A rush is pumped through his veins, elevating him to a high nothing else can. Before long, a cautious grin presents itself on Hiccup's face in preparation for what's to come.

Once they get close enough to the ocean, Toothless begins to roll and roll, forcing Hiccup to flatten himself against the saddle or risk being thrown off by the sheer force of the wind.

Toothless unfolds his wings and brings them higher again, giving Hiccup a slight break before he makes a loop. The blood rushing to the human's head as he's thrown and dragged along. It's rough, it's wild, and it's soaring Hiccup's heart higher and higher into the sky.

Toothless isn't going easy on him and that he can hold on and predict every next move is a testament to Hiccup's skill as the most experienced of the Riders.

"WHOO, YEAH!" His voice rings out loud in the sky, reaching the Dragon Riders who they'd left behind as Toothless takes his human on a precarious mission to restore his love for the sky.

They watch and see Toothless' direct approach pay off, happy to hear those cheers of joy.

After taking his Rider on a wild ride, Toothless levels out again, panting from the exertion. Hiccup lets go of the handles to straighten in his seat, hands on his lap. He has to get the last of his rush out with laughter.

"Ah, that was great. I've missed this, Bud. I've missed us." Hiccup pets the Night Fury on the head, the affectionate gesture turning into a scratch behind his ear at the end.

Toothless rumbles happily, briefly shaking his body.

Hiccup smiles and gazes at their surroundings, at the ocean below, and the village in the distance. He can see people watching them from the edge.

"I guess we're not the only ones glad to see us back in the air again, hug, Bud?" He asks.

"No, you're definitely not," Astrid replies as Stormfly catches up. All the Dragon Riders do.

"That was quite a show, Haddock!" Ruffnut commends him.

"Yeah, really happy to have you back." Snotlout admits and Fishlegs and Tuffnut share this sentiment with him.

A grounded Hiccup just hasn't been the same as the Dragon Rider they all know and love. Now here he is again, the weight of his fear lifted by his love of the sky.

"You know, I don't think Berk expects me back for the next few hours. How about some tricks? A race?" Hiccup suggests and how can the Dragon Riders possibly refuse?

"Race!" The vote is unanimous and the decision has been made.

"A race it is!" Hiccup says and off they go.

[celtics534]

Can’t Fight This Feeling

You guys said you would like a prequel to Shiver and I loved the universe so much that I had to write one! Hope y’all enjoy! 

In case you haven’t read it, here are the links to Shiver: FF.net and AO3

Read this fic on: FF.net or AO3

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Ginny walked slowly across the uneven lawn, the precariously high pile of plates shaking ominously with every step. The large extended table was only twenty steps away, but Ginny honestly wasn’t sure she’d make it. Damn her mother for forgetting that she was shorter than her brothers and carrying a stack of plates that was practically her height wasn’t a good idea. 

 “Excuse me, have you seen Ginny? Oh, wait you can’t really see anything at the moment can you?” 

 Ginny didn’t need to see in order to recognize the sarcastic tones of her best friend. 

 She stopped moving, wishing her death glare was more effective through objects. “You know if I had a free hand, my fingers would be giving you a little show

 The heavyweight she was holding lightened as Harry’s grinning face came into view. He held half the stack in his hands. “Does your mother know about your anger issues?” 

 Ginny snorted. “Who do you think I get them from.” She looked across the yard to where Ron and twins lounged by the pond. She jerked her chin towards the lazy group. “What pulled you away from the boys’ club?”

  Harry gave a small shrug, making sure his was stack level as they began to walk in unison towards the table. “I saw you struggling and figured someone better prevent a catastrophe. I do hate it when your mother is upset.”

“You’re such a mumma’s boy.” Ginny placed her pile of chinaware gently onto the table. “Even when it’s not your mum!” 

 “You’re just jealous that your mum likes me better than you.” Harry started setting plates into their places. 

 “She only likes you better because you suck up to her.”

“Which gets me fresh biscuits every time I come over, so I think it’s fair to say I’m the real winner here.” 

 Ginny couldn’t help but laugh at his childish grin. “Such a conniving scoundrel, Potter.” 

 “And don’t you forget it, Weasley!”

 Together they placed the final plate and cutlery set in the correct place. Ginny sat down in the end seat, sticking her feet out in front of her. “You know in olden days, you’d probably be marked as a pirate.”

 Harry leaned a hip against the corner of the table as he smirked down at her. “I think I’d prefer the title of marauder. Sounds more mystical and cool.”

 Ginny rolled her eyes. “At least that would be one cool thing about you.” 

 Harry’s jaw fell open in mock consternation. “How dare you. I’ll have you know people think I’m very cool. Hip even.”

 “What liars have you been talking too?”

 “Your mum.”

 That got Ginny. Her deadpan broke as she snorted with laughter. Her head fell back as her giggles took possession of her body. After a moment she looked up at Harry’s smirking face. “My mum is your coolness adviser?”

 Harry nodded emphatically as if she were a fool for questioning it. “Fuck yeah! Molly Weasley is the most fashionable person to walk this Earth.”  

 Ginny had to bite the inside of her cheek to prevent herself from encouraging him. “Oh really?”

 Again his nod was certain. “Duh. Who else would I use as a judge of character? I mean you’re great and all, Gin, but you don’t come close to holding a torch to your mum.”

 She stuck her tongue out at him. “Whatever you say, marauder.”

 “See it’s already catching on!” 

 Before Ginny could tell him what else he would catch (a nice dead leg and possible bruise), the woman of the hour shouted from in the kitchen. “Ginny, dear, could you come back and help me?!”

 “Fuck.” Ginny’s muttered curse made Harry laugh. She rose slowly, already dreading whatever task her mother had come up with. Ginny was always selected to help in the kitchen, and it wasn’t due to her Gordon Ramsey like abilities (though she did idolize his impressive vocabulary).  

 “Notice how she didn’t ask me to help.” Harry’s impishly wide grin only got bigger when she gave his shoulder a light push. “Another perk of being the favorite.”

 “This isn’t favoritism, it’s sexism.” Ginny shook her head. “If I had dangly-bits like the rest of you”— Harry snorted, but she ignored him—“I wouldn’t be stuck mixing batter, instead I’d be allowed to kick all your arses on a shoot out." 

 Harry snorted. "Well to be fair, Ron's been off his game ever since he heard Hermione was dating that Bulgaria bloke, so it wouldn't be hard to kick his arse." 

 Ginny smiled at him innocently. "And what's your excuse?" 

 "Hey!" Harry put a hand over his heart as if she'd offended him, but the crooked grin that curled his lips spoke to his amusement. Ginny loved that smile. It suited him perfectly. A little mischievous yet still friendly enough to be trustworthy. And that was Harry. Cheeky and roguish but one of the most honest and reliable people she knew. “I may not be a striker like you but when I shoot, it’s on target.” 

 “That’s what all blokes say, but then they still miss the toilet bowl so forgive me for being skeptical.” 

 Harry choked on his own spit. “Jesus, Gin!” 

 Ginny merely shrugged. “Just calling it how I see it.” Then before he could come up with some cheeky comment that she wouldn’t be able to ignore, Ginny ran off towards the kitchen. 

 Her mother was pulling a tray of buns out of the oven when the screen door shut behind Ginny. Molly didn’t look up to make sure she had the right child before speaking. “Ginny, will you please grab the butter out of the cold box? I want it to have a chance to thaw before setting it on the table.” 

 Sighing, Ginny accepted her fate of being her mother’s helper for the next while. “Sure. Anything else from there you need?”

 “Hmm. We’ll need a lemon. I want to whip up a treacle tart. As you know it’s one of Harry’s favorites.”   

 Ginny couldn’t contain her snort of laughter. “If that boy could eat only one thing for the rest of his life, he’d choose your treacle tart.”

 “Oh, he’s such a sweet lad.” Molly practically gushed as she placed the sheet down on the counter. “I don’t understand how no one has snatched him up yet.” 

 An image of Harry unknowingly, yet still awkwardly, brushing off girls' attempts to flirt with him came to Ginny’s mind. She smiled down at her freshly collected lemon. “It’s a mystery alright.”

 “I mean really! Look at him! He’s handsome, polite, good with kids. What more could a girl want.”

 “You forgot to mention his tendency to knock things over and nearly handicap blindness.” 

 Molly huffed out an annoyed breath. “Those things don’t matter. Besides.” Ginny looked up to see the mischievous glint in her mother’s eyes. “He only seems to knock things over in your presence."

 Ginny sighed. She could hear the suggestion plain as day in her mother's tone. Molly Weasley was never good at subtle hints when it came to the idea of Harry and Ginny getting involved. From the first time Molly met Harry, she'd insisted he was perfect for her daughter. Of course Ginny had told her mother there was nothing going on between herself and Harry, but Molly had just smiled knowingly, winked before whispering, “Yet.”

 And here they were two years later, Molly still shipping them like her favorite people on a soap opera. 

 “Well, I’m not wrong,” Molly said in a sing-song tone. “There’s a reason a boy becomes a klutz in front of only one girl, and I think you know what that reason is.”

 Ginny couldn’t resist rolling her eyes. “Sure, Mum. Sure.”

 “The sooner you accept it, the happier you’ll be.” Molly moved beside Ginny, who had started to zest the lemon. “I mean just look at him out there with Vic and tell me you don’t feel something.” 

 Ginny glanced up at her dreamy-eyed mother before following Molly’s gaze. Harry was sitting on the grass, his legs crossed in front of him. Victoire, Bill’s one-year-old daughter, sat happily playing peek-a-boo with Harry. Every time Harry hid his face behind his hands, Vic would frown. Then the moment Harry revealed himself, the little girl would clap wildly. Victoire’s laugh carried through the kitchen window. 

 “Yeah, I feel something…” Ginny took a deep breath. “I feel bad for Fleur later when she tries to get those grass stains out of Vic’s white dress.”

 Molly huffed out an exasperated breath of air. “You’re impossible.”  

 “Actually, I feel bad for Bill who’s gonna have to listen to Fleur complain about getting the stains out.”

 Ginny smirked to herself as her mother just shook her head. When Molly walked away, presumably to collect the rest of the ingredients to make the tart, Harry suddenly turned to look at the house. When their eyes met, green and brown, a slow smile curled Harry’s lips. 

 She’d seen that smile a million times. Ginny recognized his dimple that appeared just under the small group of freckles he’d gotten from their weekend beach trip. It was the smile that showed only a few perfect teeth. So if she’d seen it a million times, why did it make her heart thump against her chest?

 Fuck!

 A lump formed in her throat as a shiver ran down her spine. No! No! No!

 Ginny looked away from that adorable grin. No, she couldn’t call it adorable! It was just a smile. She turned her eyes back on the lemon, which in her distraction she had brutalized. Fuck. 

 She’d only thought it was adorable in that way because her mother had influenced her. That had to be it. She’d never thought of Harry in that way before… unprompted into her mind, memories of that cheeky grin over the years made her heart flutter -- Again! 

 Mother fucking tits on a bull!

 Ginny put the zester back onto the counter before falling back into one of the kitchen chairs. What was going on? Why was the thought of Harry’s smiling at her sending her pulse into overdrive? She had known him for years and never felt that rush of… attraction. 

 That’s a lie, Ginny’s inner monologue argued. There had been that time they were at the park and he was pushing her on the swing. While soaring upwards, Ginny had looked over her shoulder and was greeted by a beaming Harry. At the time Ginny had contributed the swooping sensation to the gain in altitude, but looking back on it… 

 A wave of sudden nausea hit Ginny, making her put her head between her knees. She couldn’t like Harry like that. It would ruin everything! Ginny refused to lose her best friend because of some sudden fancy. Because no matter what her mum said, Ginny hadn’t seen any signs from Harry showing he had a… thing for her.   

 “Are you alright, dear?” Molly’s worried tone broke through the panicked discourse going through her mind. 

 She swallowed the lump that had lodged at the base of her throat. “Ye — yeah. I just felt a bit ill for a moment there.” 

 Molly’s hand was instantly pressed to Ginny’s forehead. “Well you don’t have a fever, but you’re paler than a ghost.” She tilted Ginny’s chin up with a finger. “Why don’t you go lie down for a bit? I’ll send someone up to get you when supper is ready.” 

 Ginny took a deep breath. “That sounds good.” She rose slowly onto shaky legs. Taking small, precise steps, Ginny made her way up to her first-floor bedroom. The moment she reached her bed, Ginny plopped face down into her pillows. 

 Her mind couldn’t stop racing. Words like absurd and dangerous rolled around, then an image of his crooked smile would materialize and those phrases would give way to charming and gorgeous. 

 That damn smile! It ruined everything! 

 Ginny shut her eyes, blocking out the little light that broke through the sides of her pillow. She needed to get a grip! It was just a passing fancy, that was all! The next time she saw him, nothing will have changed. It will be him and her. Two Amigos, not one amiga pining after one amigo. 

 “Gin?” 

 Ginny’s eyes shot open as she rolled around to see Harry sitting on the edge of her mattress. Her heart fluttered against her chest as she stared into Harry’s concerned expression. He looked so… precious with that knitted brow and little frown. 

 Fucking hell. Even she couldn’t pretend the butterflies in her stomach were from the little fright he gave her. But it wasn’t because she loved the fact that all that worry was for her. Nope, not at all.  

 Maybe if she lived in a state of constant self deception all of this would go away. 

 His hand came to rest on her knee. The feeling of his thumb brushing back and forth… Get a grip, Ginny! “You feeling better?” 

 Ginny inhaled deeply, refusing to let her conflicted and confused thoughts come out in any shape or form. “I’m feeling… okay.” 

 “You want to come down and eat? If not I can make you up a plate for later.”

 If those butterflies could fucking stop fluttering in her gut, Ginny would greatly appreciate it! She cleared her suddenly obstructed throat. “No, I’ll come down.” 

 His lips curled in a delighted smile as he stood from his post. He offered her a hand up. It took Ginny a full five seconds to muster the courage to take his offer. He heaved her away from her comfortable bed. When he let go of her hand, his arm came to rest around her waist. 

 When she looked up at him, his smile was reassuring. “In case your legs are shaky.”    

 “How are you single?” The question blurted past her lips before her brain could explain why it was a bad idea. “I mean..” she started scrambling for the words to explain. “You do and say things that only boys in films and books do.”

 His brow knitted together as his lips curled in a confused smile. “Er… I’ll take that as a compliment.”

 “It is one.” Ginny could feel the heat expanding across her cheeks. She was thankful Harry’s focus was on the stairs they were climbing down rather than her glowing face. “I mean — you just always seem to know what to say.”

 “Only when I’m talking with you.”

 Ginny stopped at the base of the stairs, turning to fully look at him. “See! That’s exactly what I mean. If you said that to any girl they’d swoon.” Not a word of a lie there. 

 Harry snorted. “If you say so.” 

 She almost blurted how it had worked on her, but for once Ginny managed to bite her tongue. "Don't know why you said it in that tone, by now you know I'm always right." 

 His laugh was loud in the empty kitchen making yet another rush of fluttering wings beat rapidly in Ginny’s stomach. “How could I forget when you seem to remind me at least once a day.” 

 “Only once? Sounds like I need to increase my quota.” Ginny was proud of the quick cheek. She’d been starting to worry that her usual quick wit was going to take a hit due to… whatever was going on with her. If she’d lost her fast commentary, she would lose a main part of their relationship. 

 They’d started to move out towards the garden table in a compatible silence. Harry’s arm still rested over her shoulder. Ginny could hear her family chattering the moment they stepped out of the house. At that moment, everything felt right to Ginny. She was with the people she loved most and the man beside her… 

 “Hey, Ginny!” George was the first to notice her. “Are you feeling better?” 

 Unconsciously, her eyes drifted up to Harry’s smiling face. A pleasant warmth spread throughout her stomach. “Yeah. I feel better.”

 “Great, because we want you to try one of our new sweets.”

 “No sweets before dinner,” Molly scolded from her end of the table. “We saved you two seats.” She gestured to the only remaining chairs. 

 Ginny took the corner spot while Harry took the chair beside Ron. Harry and Ron had instantly bonded the first time they’d met. They both had a love for sweets and when Ginny had introduced them (Ron had come to visit her at school) the two of them had gone off gallivanting to the local bakery while Ginny was stuck in class. When they’d finally returned to her dorm room, they were besties. They weren’t Harry and Ginny level, but Harry didn’t turn down the chance to get a pint with Ron. 

 As soon as her bum hit the cushion, a bowl was passed into her hands. Different conversations around the table merged so Ginny could only pick up bits and pieces. Her father and Bill were discussing the bank Bill worked at, the twins and Ron were debating who had the best chance to take the premier league, and Percy had somehow roped Fleur into listening about the new regulations he was trying to pass on tube seating. 

 “So, Ginny, are you excited for this semester?” Molly asked as she cut up a chunk of potato.

 Ginny nodded enthusiastically. “I’m getting to take quite a few electives this year. And Harry and I are trying to get into the popular botany class in the spring.”

 “Botany? Really?” Molly’s brow rose. “I didn’t expect you to be interested in such a class.” 

 “It’s supposed to be fascinating,” Harry chimed in, his head turned away from the premier league discussion. “And there is a really interesting educational trip you get to take at the end of the semester.”

 He leaned closer to Ginny, under the pretense of looking at Molly. While Molly oh and awed at the news, Harry’s lips came so close to Ginny’s ear that millions of little shivers ran up and down her spine. “Well, maybe not educational, but definitely interesting.” 

 Warmth hit her neck with every exhale of his lungs. Ginny’s entire back erupted in goose pimples as her breath seemed too shallow. God, she was losing it! She simultaneously wanted to run away and lean closer. 

 In her indecision, Ginny’s body decided to place her elbow on the edge of the table… or what should have been the table. The moment slippery butter cooled her arm, Ginny knew she’d fucked up. 

 Praying that no one noticed, Ginny snatched her arm back, letting it fall to her side. Fucking hell she was a mess!

 “What do you think, Ginny?” Molly asked, thankfully seeming to have missed her daughter’s mishap. 

 “Huh?” Ginny couldn’t focus on anything other than the weird slimy yet oddly dry feeling of her butter covered elbow. 

 “Your mum was just asking if you thought you would be able to help her out in the garden more after the botany class,” Harry supplied. Ginny felt something tickling her knee. She looked down, ready to swash whatever bug dared to challenge her, but only saw Harry’s fingers slyly passing her a napkin. He had noticed her incident… and instead of being a prat like any of her brothers would have been, he just quietly helped. 

 And like that, Ginny quit. She couldn’t fight the feeling anymore. The way Harry was causing her heart to race and her stomach flutter. She fancied him and there was no stopping it. When his hand came around, having successfully handed off the napkin, and gently rested on her back Ginny decided she didn’t want to stop it. 

 As she covertly cleaned off the butter, Ginny nodded absently at her mother. “Sure I can.”

 “That’s lovely!” Ginny stopped listening as Molly chattered, instead she glanced at Harry out of the corner of her eyes. He was smiling contently, seemingly focused on whatever Molly said. He was gorgeous, there had never been any doubting that. Plenty of Ginny’s girlfriends had said as much, but Ginny had always just waved them off saying it was just Harry. 

 Just Harry. That was it. He was Harry, her best friend. She honestly didn’t know a better man, except maybe her saint of a father. Ginny had always loved the way her’s and Harry’s relationship felt so natural… and now here she was going to fuck it all up with… feelings. 

 No! She couldn’t do that. Ginny’s heart sank into her gut. She couldn’t risk her friendship with Harry for anything. Ginny didn’t want to be without him, even if it meant she couldn’t tell him how she felt. But even if she couldn’t tell him how she felt, Ginny couldn’t stop herself from enjoying the feeling of his hand on her back. If she couldn’t have it all… well at least she would still have Harry. That’s all she’d had before and that was all she would need now. 

 But as his thumb rolled slow circles on the small of her back, Ginny knew she wouldn’t be able to fight her feelings for him forever. 

[queenbirbs]

find you in the night | Mal x MC

Pairing: Mal Volari x h!MC (Elwyn)

Word count: 2600+

Summary: A little conversation at sixty-three feet in the air. Or: Mal invites Elwyn to see the abandoned wonder of Westavia Woods.   Title taken from Andrew Belle’s “In My Veins.”

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“This is a lot less fun than you said it would be.”

“I dunno. I’ve got a pretty spectacular view from where I’m standing,” Mal counters from where he leans over the edge, no doubt getting an eyeful.

Though she can’t see the smirk on his face, given that she’s too busy climbing up the side of a castle, Elwyn knows it’s there. The handhold she chose gives way under her palm, tearing her attention away from the man above. She digs through the vines and finds another, her nails scratching at the stone in a way that sends a shiver up her spine – and not in a good way, either.

“A little help down here?” she calls up.

In the span of a second, Mal straddles the turret’s wall and waggles his fingers for her to take. Elwyn frowns up at him, even as her boots slip across the protruding stone blocks. “There’s no way that’s safe. Throw me a rope or something.”

“It’s perfectly safe!” he defends. His confidence dims when he eyes the distance between them again. “Safe-ish. C’mon, kit, we haven’t got all day. Sun’s gonna set before you manage to inch your way up here–”

“Fine. Give me your damn hand, then.” She huffs, grinning all the while – he answers in kind with his own as he leans down and grips her hand. His skin is warm from the sun-baked stones, his palm rough from spending a lifetime scaling such structures for treasure.

“That’s it,” he coaxes. “Up and over.”

She climbs the rest of the way up and throws a leg over the wall, drawing in a breath to calm her nerves. She sucks in another when she takes in their view.

“Oh, wow.”  

“I know.”

The castle they sit atop, formerly owned by some pompous asshole (Mal’s words, not hers, though she tends to agree with his sentiments regarding the upper class), sprawls across several acres.

Or, at least, it once had. Now, some hundred or so years since its abandonment, much of it has fallen into disrepair. The gatehouse and several of the towers are nothing more than moss-coated rubble. Dense sheets of vines crawl their way up and over the remaining towers and keep. The courtyard is now an extension of the forest, trees and shrubs filling the neat square where people once bustled about.  

What’s left of the castle towers high above Westavia Woods. The name is a bit of a misnomer, considering the massive spread of forest between Undermount and Whitetower. After leaving the elven city and winding down through the Salus Mountains (while battling a few trolls along the way), they’d stopped here to rest. Tyril had called the area Tel’ eath, which roughly translated to ‘the endless.’ Elwyn didn’t need him to expand on that one.

The view before them is an ocean of green, the forest stretching as far as the eye can see. Already low in the sky, the sun traces the line of the horizon a brilliant gold. Birds soar across the landscape, their forms thrown into sharp relief.  

“I thought it’d be nice to get away.” Mal glances her way and lets out a sigh of content. “Glad to see I was right.”

“Like an adventure from our adventure?”

“Exactly.” He reaches down into his bag and produces a small bottle. The golden liquid inside almost shimmers in the waning sunlight. “Swiped this from the winery while you were grabbing the mangy cat-bat his own bottle.”

Popping out the cork with the tip of his dagger, Mal hands it off to her for the first sip. The taste is sweet, almost to the degree of too much, before the mellow hint of herbs emerges to soothe the dulcified liquid. If the Celestial icewine was sunshine-and-snow, the honey-wine is a gentle wind through a willow tree, or the first bite of autumn. Elwyn thinks of the field of meadowsweet on the eastern edge of Riverbend. How she would spend afternoons hidden in the dense thicket, her nose in a book of fantastical places like Cordonia, or La Huerta, or Lykos, or Brooklyn.    

“I can see why Threep likes it,” she says, taking another sip before passing it back to Mal.

Rolling her shoulders to ease the muscles now sore from her ascent, she indulges in the scenery. From this height, she can easily spot camp, where the steady stream of smoke from their fire snakes up through the tree cover. Their friends’ voices are nothing more than a distant thrum, indecipherable on the wind.

“I’ve never climbed something so tall. There was an old fortress south of Riverbend that I went to the top of, but it was only three stories high. And the view was nothing like this.”

“All by yourself?” he teases, making a show of licking his lips clean of the wine. “And here I thought you hadn’t taken part in a single adventure until I came along.”

“It wasn’t much of an adventure. And I went with the town blacksmith.”

“Ah. What’s his name, then?”

“Her name is Simona.”

Mal hums a tone of interest, one eyebrow peaked. “You’re just full of surprises, aren’t ya?”

She levels a look of her own at him. “You did see me make out with that mermaid, didn’t you?”

“It’s not like I was ogling you two,” he points out with a scoff. “Not that you’ll ever hear me admit it again, but I was jealous.”

“Oh, I know. You’re not exactly subtle about it.”

“I’d try to hide it, but you seem to see right through me.” He’s grinning as he says it, but there’s a softness in his gaze that wasn’t there weeks ago.

It’s his only tell that she’s been able to spot. Maybe because he lets her, she considers, and the thought warms her, oddly enough.

Turning from her companion, Elwyn scans the farthest edge of the forest as best she can, looking for the age-old sign of civilization: right angles. Even far beyond her sight, she knows that the great city of Whitetower is still many, many miles away. The thought of visiting the capital city has her torn in two.

On one hand, it’s somewhere she’s always wanted to go, after seeing a painting of the sparkling, white castles rising high into the sky, the cobblestone streets below filled with the smudged outlines of its citizens. After living most of her life in a tiny, backwater town, she longed to experience a real, bustling city filled to the brim with people.

On the other hand, she knows that it’s the last stop on their adventure through Morella. Elwyn has no doubt that they’ll find the last shard; has no qualms about fighting the Shadow Court; has no objection to doing whatever it takes to get her brother back.

She can only hope that her friends make it out alive.

A quick tug on her braid brings her out of her woolgathering.

“Penny for your thoughts.”

“Wondering what awaits us in the city,” she answers, trying her best to hide the anxiety she feels.

Mal rolls his shoulders in a lazy shrug, exuding a carefree appearance. It’s a good act, she’ll give him that.

“Destruction, devastation… death. But that’s the usual for Whitetower.”

“I know you don’t want to return, but I’m glad you’re coming.”

“It’s not that,” he says with a shake of his head. “I’d always planned to go back, of course, what with my sister still living there. But that sort of visit would be a quick in-and-out, do a bit of business, and be off before anyone who cared to know even suspected.”

Squinting out at the horizon, he sighs before flashing her a wry grin. “I have a feeling we’ll be making quite the entrance for ourselves this time.”

She watches the grin fade away as his brown eyes search hers.

“I have few memories of my village,” she tells him, “but not all of them are good. And I’m not only talking about the night it was destroyed. So, I understand about wanting to leave the past where it lies.”

“I’d be lying if I hadn’t thought about it burning down to ash. Parts of it, at least,” he amends. “I don’t wish any harm on the citizens.”

“I’m guessing those parts would be the castle.”

“Yeah,” he murmurs, something dark flashing in his eyes. “Just those.”

Before them, the sun has disappeared. It throws its last light out across the treetops, a vain attempt to keep its hold on the day. The night arrives like a deep, blue blanket thrown over the sky. High above them, stars twinkle into existence, materializing in droves. It’s as if someone has flicked a white paintbrush across the heavens. A cool wind rushes past; Elwyn shudders along with the vines.

She thinks of Kade and the realm he’s trapped in. Can he see the night sky from wherever he is? Can he keep himself sane by listing off the constellations, something that used to annoy the piss out of her growing up? Can he even still be alive?

She thinks of Kaya, frozen in death, her fear sculpted across her glass form, all alone at what seemed like the bottom of the world. Of all the terrible thoughts that bubble up, Elwyn thinks the worst might be her hands. How they were raised to shield herself from the attack, how that same instinct of survival runs deep in everything, no matter the species. Had she known what was coming? Or was there surprise hidden somewhere behind all that fear?

“Should we have… done something for Kaya?” she asks, hating how small her voice sounds.

“She was beyond our help.”

“I know that. But it still feels like we abandoned her. We left her down there.” Elwyn scrubs at her eyes, wishing she could banish away the immediate well of tears. “I keep thinking about the last time I saw Kade. He had that same expression. What if he thinks there’s no rescue coming? What if he does, though, and we can’t? What if–”

“Hey, hey,” Mal cuts off her worried rambling. He cups her face and drops a kiss to her forehead, and then another just under her eye. Something squeezes tight in her chest at the gesture. “You’ll worry yourself in circles like that.”

“I know,” she whispers, her hand covering his. “But I can’t–”

“Help it. I understand. And I wouldn’t lie to you, not about this. Kade… he–”

“May be lost forever,” Elwyn finishes for him.

He winces, but gives her a quick nod.

“I know that,” she tells him. “After all we’ve seen of what the Shadow Court can do, I can only run on blind faith at this point that I’ll get him back.”

“Hey, now. It’s not only faith. You’ve got the four of us.” He pauses and frowns. “Well, five if you count the cat, but he’s at most a glorified stomach with wings. But that doesn’t mean that we won’t fight like hell for your brother.”

His thumb sweeps across her cheek, steadying her. She turns her head and presses her lips to his palm, wishing she could express the gratitude she feels that they’ve all stuck beside her this long. Instead, she shifts to take another long look at the world as the night closes in on them.  

“I feel like I could see Riverbend from here.”

“If it weren’t for the curve of the world, and if your eyes were as good as mine, you probably could.”

She gives his thigh a light smack.

“My eyes are just fine, thank you.”

“Very fine indeed,” he agrees, that familiar smirk of his firmly in place.

She realizes that she would like to wipe it right off. Sliding her hand down along his arm, she wraps it around his bicep and hauls him down for a kiss.

He’s quick on the uptake, his arms coming around to circle her waist and drag her closer. His tongue runs across her bottom lip, asking for entry; she acquiesces with a tilt of her head and deepens the kiss. The taste of him is a concoction of aged leather, a rain-soaked forest, and a spice she can’t seem to put a name to, something that seems to be uniquely Mal.

His touch dances across her back and up along her ribs, one hand around her waist to keep her steady while the other sinks into her hair. She hooks a leg up and around his hip, drawing him flush against her. Her move is met with a satisfied hum. Pleasure travels through her veins, slow and steady like treacle. It’s dizzying, the effect of him. If he asks, she’ll blame it on the dangerous, sixty-foot drop mere inches away, but they both know a lie when they hear one.

He breaks their kiss to trail his mouth down her neck and across her chest.

“If you wanted to get me all alone so you could have your way with me,” he pauses, his tongue tracing the lines of her collarbone in a way that makes her breath hitch, “you could’ve just said so.”

“I thought our resident rogue and self-proclaimed ‘king of stealth’ would enjoy my attempt at subtlety.”

He laughs, his beard tickling at the sensitive skin of her throat. Some deep, tucked-away part of her would like to hear the sound every day of her life.

“Elwyn, I’ve seen you flirt with every living thing we’ve come across. You wouldn’t know subtle if it was branded across your forehead.”

Dragging her hand down his front, she treats him to a hint of her nails, pleased when he sucks in a breath as she continues lower.

“The way I see it,” she murmurs, “why waste all that precious time and energy when I can be as brazen as I’d like and get there even faster?”

Sliding her touch back up his body, she fits two fingers under his chin and urges him to meet her for another kiss. Her toes curl inside her boots at the heady slide of his lips against hers.

“Would you like to know my next idea?” he asks, nipping a path along her jaw to below her ear.

“Mmm-hmm.”

“Once we can get away from our merry band of misfits for more than two minutes, I plan on taking you to bed.” He bites down at the soft skin below her ear, a breathy chuckle escaping him when she bites her lip on the end of a groan. “Once there, I plan on coaxing out all these lovely noises you’re keeping bottled up.”

Shivers dance up her spine, but in a good way this time.

“What a coincidence.” She grins up at him when he pulls back to return to her mouth. “Because that’s exactly what I plan on doing with you.”

He gazes down at her with something akin to wonder. “Great minds think alike, then.”

At the horizon, the sunlight empties out the last of its parting glass. The dark blue of twilight seeps across the canvas before them. “We should probably get going,” he sighs, the disappointment ringing through his words. “Especially if we want to eat something before Threep hoards it all for himself.”

Elwyn concedes his point and casts a wary glance down the side of the castle.

“Um, how are we going to get back down?”

“Like any normal person would. By the stairs.”

She would wipe the shit-eating grin off his face if she wasn’t worried she’d knock him straight off the turret.

“There are stairs? You told me the only way up was to climb!”

“The only interesting way up. C’mon, El, what’s life without a little adventure, hmm?”

“Don’t call me El.”

“I think it suits you, but all right, fine. How about Wynnie?”

“I will throw you from this castle, I swear.”

“Ah, but you’re laughing. Admit it, you like it.”

“You’re absurd.”

“You know what, you’re right. But it’s a shame you can’t come up with a nickname for me, what with my name being so short.”

“I’m sure I can find something that suits you.”

“Oh, surely you must know by now, Elwyn. It’s you – you suit me right down to the ground.”

+

+

+

AN: Me, ending a story with lines of dialogue instead of giving it a proper send-off? Truly unprecedented.

References: a line from Syfy’s Alice and the Roman goddess Salus that I named the mountains after.

Was I inspired to write this by the fact that Mal Volari is essentially the whatever-century-this-book-exists-in version of Nathan Drake? Yes, thanks. Was there ever any doubt I would love him the moment he opened his smart mouth? Nope!

Honey-wine is actually another name for mead, though there is a chance they could be different drinks depending on the region (thanks wikipedia). No matter what, though, I imagine the drink tastes a lot better in the Blades universe than my only taste of it at a pub in Pitlochry.

[unending-happiness]

Hi, I've got a question out of nowhere! I was looking to re-read a story And When You Soar that was on my AO3 bookmark list and it's apparently not there anymore! I think it was your story? Can I ask what happened to it? If it's indeed the story I remember, I loved it!

Hi! Oh wow. It’s definitely my story! I’m smiling so big because you want to reread it. So…..as for what happened to it, I got a little overwhelmed with all my responsibilities in real life and how little time I had for writing. All my wips just felt like a heavy weight on my shoulders, because no matter how much I wanted to finish them I just didn’t think I’d ever have time. And I also felt so guilty about leaving them for so long without updates and letting readers down. So, I deleted all my wips from AO3 and vowed to only post them again when they were complete on my end (except for editing) and I could update them on a regular schedule. And When You Soar was supposed to be a relatively quick story, but then, as stories do, it took on a life of it’s own and there ended up being way more to it than I originally thought, so it got pulled too. 

I’m actually in the middle of writing a long one-shot right now that’s fairly close to being sent to my beta. I don’t know what’s wrong with my writing brain right now, but I get huge bursts of inspiration for something new, then it fades, and rinse and repeat. Super unhelpful. 

Now, the good news is, I’ve found myself at the very beginning of a period of being off work and quarantined at home because of this delightful pandemic we’re all experiencing, so I’m going to attack my wips with intensity and AWYS has a very good chance of getting finished soon and back up on ao3. Honestly, thank you so much for this ask because I wasn’t sure what wip from my list to work on after the one I’m finishing now, and you’ve made the decision easy for me. Thank you so much, lovely human! To hold you over until I post it again………

And When You Soar-Chapter 1

Alec ducked his head and stepped through the door and into the plane. He stopped when the elderly woman in front of him came to a standstill and looked around, transferring his suitcase to his other hand. He acknowledged the flight attendant standing to his left with his usual tight smile.

“Welcome aboard,” she greeted him, flashing him a bigger smile of her own.

“Thanks,” Alec answered her before his attention shifted to the open door just past her. A tall pilot standing just inside the flight cabin nodded at him and then turned his attention to who Alec assumed was his co-pilot. Always curious, Alec leaned to the side to see more of the other pilot, but his view into the small space was almost completely obstructed by the large man

“Sir,” the woman said to get his attention again.

He looked over at her and saw that she was motioning for him to move along into the cabin. He realized that the people in front of him had moved forward and he was holding up the line. 

“Sorry,” he whispered, as if talking at a normal volume would cause further disturbance.

She just smiled at him sweetly again, and then turned her attention to whoever was behind him. Alec shifted his suitcase so that he could fit down the aisle, and focussed on finding his seat without taking out the tiny woman in front of him. He located his row near the back of the plane and saw that his seatmates hadn’t yet boarded, so he quickly stowed his bag in the overhead compartment and sat down in the aisle seat. 

Normally, Alec loved being tall. He never needed a step stool, he had always been chosen first for basketball teams in high-school gym class, and he could see over everyone’s head in a crowd. It also made intimidating people fairly effortless, not that he would ever admit that out loud. Being tall was almost always a perk, but he found that flights were one of the few glaring exceptions. 

He always sprang for first class when he had to be on a plane for more than a few hours, but his sister’s last-minute plans had him booking the only available seat on the only available flight that would fit into his demanding schedule. He barely had time to get a workout in and grab a quick shower before his Uber pulled up. He was feeling very lucky that he at least got an aisle seat, and even so, there simply wasn’t going to be a position that would make his legs happy. It was going to be a long night and his only hope would be to fall asleep, which was unlikely, as he found it especially difficult to do in crowded places.

He grabbed his phone and earbuds out of his backpack and put it under the seat in front of him, barely leaving enough room to squeeze his black Nikes in there. When he glanced back up, he could see that there was a young man and woman waiting patiently for him to get up so they could take the seats next to him. He quickly stood and moved to the side. The man eyed him up and down suspiciously and then quickly changed positions with who Alec could only assume was his girlfriend so that he would be sitting next to Alec instead of her. Alec barely contained an eye roll. Heterosexuals. He gave them plenty of space while they got settled and then gingerly lowered himself back into his seat, already regretting going so hard in the gym that morning as his thighs still protested from yesterday’s workout. He would feel it doubly tomorrow. 

He went through the process of checking and returning messages on his phone. He handled a few work emails and then touched base with his family. He answered a text from Izzy.

 Did you make your flight?

Barely

That’s the spirit. See you soon. 😘

If by “soon” you mean in 9 hours, then yes, that.

Grouchy…..You got stuck in economy again didn’t you? Such a diva.

Next time you come up with some grand scheme, I’m going to need you to think of my legs.

Promise, but I’m sure you could use your powers of persuasion to get yourself into first class. 😎😍

You’re confusing me with you, again

Oh, Alec. Try not to have too much fun.😂 We’ll pick you up at the airport.

Hey, I know how to have fun.  

And by “we”, do you mean…..

Simon and I. I wouldn’t bring mom or dad. I’m not that mean.☹️

I have plenty of scars that suggest otherwise, but I’ll see you in 9 short hours.

Love you, big brother

Love you, too.

 The perky flight attendant had started her safety speech, which was thankfully straight to the point and not one of those lame ones trying to make everyone laugh. Alec fastened his seatbelt across his black joggers and logged into the airline’s Wi-Fi. He put his phone on airplane mode as soon as he was connected. He glanced over at his seatmates to see the man was huddled up next to his companion and they were chatting quietly and giggling. He didn’t think he had to worry about them trying to talk to him, but he stuck a wireless earbud in that ear anyway just to be sure. He scanned the rest of the passengers within view of him and tried to settle comfortably in his seat when he decided that everything was as it should be.

The pilot he had seen when he boarded the plane came out a few moments later and did the standard pre-flight announcement. Captain Garroway had a deep and booming voice, so Alec clearly heard the weather and their destination all the way from his seat in the back of the plane.

He busied himself with scrolling through his playlist to distract himself during take off. He wasn’t a nervous flyer, but the knowledge that nearly all plane crashes happened during ascent and descent kept him from really relaxing until they were fully up in the air. Being out of control in any situation went against every fiber of his being, and he just had to work through it. He spread his legs a little, pushing his knees all the way against the seatback in front of him, praying that the person wouldn’t want to recline their seat. He crossed his arms over his chest and closed his eyes. 

The plane had just hit cruise height, the most nerve wracking part over, and he was listening to a conversation between a mother and child in front of him when his phone buzzed in his lap.

Alec swiped down his notifications and pulled his eyebrows together when he saw what app the push notification had come from. Of all times to get a message from someone on Grindr, this one had to be the weirdest. He hadn’t even had an account for twenty-four hours yet, only having downloaded it late the night before out of boredom. His sister had joked recently that he needed to “Meet someone on Grindr or something to let off some steam”, and despite everything in his being telling him he wouldn’t be happy with such a thing, he had done it anyway. He wasn’t exactly sure why he had listened to her, because he had no interest in hooking up with a random guy just because he was within so many feet of him. There was actually someone he had something really casual with, but it had been a while since he’d seen him. So, he could probably chalk this horrible lapse in decision making up to being frustrated and horny. Still, he had no intention of using the app, not really.

He thought about dismissing the message without reading it, almost laughing at the thought of having sex with some random stranger in the tiny plane bathroom, when it hit him that the message actually had to be from someone currently on the plane with him. That thought had him sitting up straighter and looking around him as inconspicuous as possible. He didn’t see anyone staring at him, but still, like the truly paranoid person he was, he turned down the brightness on his screen so the people around him would be less likely to see what he was doing. Hesitantly, he opened the message.

It was from someone called “CoyNotCryptic” and the icon wasn’t a person, but instead was an aerial photo of a city he didn’t recognize. Oh-kayyy, that wasn’t going to tell him anything. He looked around the cabin again and then read the message.

 I see you’re on my flight.  Enjoy the ride to Rome.

 Alec stared at the words in disbelief. What are the chances? He quickly tried to figure out who this mystery messenger could be. A fellow passenger? The app informed him that it was someone ninety feet away, which would have to be someone toward the front of the plane. A passenger in first class maybe? Alec looked up at the flight attendants suspiciously. Both were women and he didn’t see a third, but that didn’t necessarily mean there wasn’t another one there. First class sometimes had their own attendant. Thoroughly flustered, he turned off his screen and laid it face down in his lap again, still eyeing the people around him and the front of the cabin.

He made it an impressive five minutes before he unlocked his phone and pulled up the message thread. He clicked on the mystery person’s profile. 

All he learned from that was that the guy was 3O ish years old, 5’11”, 175lbs, Bi, and Single. Seemed intriguing enough, but a picture definitely would have been extremely helpful. Fucking Grindr. This was why he didn’t want to mess with it in the first place. He wasn’t going to answer it. Absolutely not. What would he even say? What if the person was a total creep and it was a disaster for the entire eight-hour flight?

Just a few minutes later, bored and antsy, he decided that it was going to bother him if he didn’t at least find out who it was. Oh, what the hell , he thought, and typed out a message.

 The chances of this happening have to be a million to one, right?

 He tapped his foot nervously while he waited the fifteen seconds for an answer to come.

 I’m not privy to the exact statistics, but it doesn’t happen very often, in my professional experience. Does this mean you’re one in a million?

 Alec swallowed a laugh. The wording of the message made him feel more like it was someone working on the flight. That was probably less risky than a random passenger. More than a little intrigued, he typed a reply.

 By that logic, you would be one in a million, also. 

Oh, I definitely am.

How self-aware of you.

Self-aware and humble.

And….working right now??

Yes, although it doesn’t feel like work at the moment.

Because I’m distracting you?

Don’t get ahead of yourself.  It could be the 40-ton jet I’m flying. -MB

 Alec nearly dropped his damn phone and he was ninety percent sure he said, “No way,” out loud instead of in his head. The pilot!! The pilot was messaging him on Grindr. What the actual hell had Izzy gotten him into?! He had the passing thought that maybe it was somebody else on the plane fucking with him, and he looked around for about the tenth time. And MB? Most definitely not the initials of Garroway, the pilot he saw before. Must’ve been the pilot he hadn’t been able to get a good look at when he boarded.

He didn’t have time to go too far down that rabbit hole of thought, because just then a voice filled the cabin. This one was very different than Captain Garroway’s and it got Alec’s full attention, to say the least.

“Good evening, lovely passengers, this is Captain Bane speaking.”

This voice sent a shiver down his spine and made every nerve ending wake up and take notice. It was a voice of pure silk that made Alec think of skin on skin, of dark passionate nights, of hushed whispers between sloppy kisses.

He was absolutely reeling at the realization that “MB” from Grindr was also Captain Bane, the pilot of this airplane, a man whose voice alone stimulated every cell in Alec’s body. He was thoroughly fucked for the duration of this flight and he couldn’t even find it in himself to be mad about it.

“We are now cruising along at an altitude of 30,000 feet. You may use any larger electronic devices you have at this time, on airplane mode, of course. I’m very good at what I do, but I’d prefer a smooth and easy ride tonight.”

Alec pursed his lips to contain his disbelieving laugh, his eyes wide.

“Please also feel free to take your seatbelt off if you need to move around the cabin, but be sure to put it back on anytime you’re in your seat. This is just a precaution in case of unexpected turbulence, or in the event I jerk my stick a little too hard.”

The passengers around him chuckled at the joke, but Alec thought that there was no possible way in hell any of them could be as affected by those words as he was. This was an unbelievable turn of events.

“My darling flight attendants will be doing drink service soon, and I’d like to ask you to be patient and enjoy whatever quenches your thirst. Please exercise self-control, though, as this is a long flight for all of us. Also, just a reminder that any long arms or long legs that are taking up aisle space, are most definitely at risk of being taken out by Clary and her cart, and need to be tucked safely in your seat. Thank you very much and enjoy the ride to Rome.”

This man. Holy. Fucking. Shit. He needed a drink from Clary and her cart ASAP.

He stared at his phone and that last message. It was clearly his move now, and considering how buzzed he was from the announcements alone, he wanted to make it a good one. He decided he very much wanted to play this game.

 Aren’t there rules about texting and flying? 

You are in very capable hands. I wasn’t joking when I said I’m good at what I do.

In all seriousness though, my co-pilot is doing all the heavy lifting at the moment, but if this makes you nervous, I’ll stop. I like to keep my customers happy.

Don’t stop.

I’m not worried.

Good. Tell me something?

Ask away.

What takes you to Rome?

My little sister’s impromptu wedding.

Scandalous. Have you met her other half?

Oh, yeah. They’ve been together for a while. The engagement isn’t that surprising, and, really, the quick wedding isn’t either if you know my family. She’s avoiding a lot of drama. I can’t really blame her.

Ah, family drama, ever delightful.

Unfortunately there’s no shortage of it with mine. 

How long are you staying in Rome for the wedding? 

Just a few days. 

It’s an absolutely beautiful city. I can make some recommendations if you’d like……

That would be great.

 Perky red rolled up to him with her cart, pulling his focus away from the conversation. He reluctantly placed the phone face down on his tray and tried to not look impatient as he got his wallet with his card out of his bag. She asked the couple next to him what they wanted, and Alec dutifully passed a soda and a red wine over. She ignored his debit card and poured a whiskey on the rocks, probably the most expensive they had on board, and handed it over to him. His confusion must have shown on his face because she winked at him and pointed to the front of the plane. It took a couple seconds for him to get it and then he glanced to his side to be sure the people next to him weren’t paying attention.

“Oh, uh, thanks,“ he whispered, and immediately felt like a moron.

“No problem. If you need anything else at all, just let me know. I’ll be back around for meal orders in just a little bit.”

Alec took a big sip of his drink. It was easily twice the size of the drinks you normally received on a plane and he felt a little guilty that he hadn’t even paid for it. He resisted the urge to look around and see if anyone had noticed his special treatment.

He checked his phone as soon as he felt relaxed from the warmth that had burned its way down his chest. There were no new messages, but he decided that sending him a drink was a pretty loud and clear message of its own and he started typing.

 So, now you are flying a plane, texting, AND buying me a drink?! Show off.

Is that a thank you?

Of course. How did you even know where I was sitting?

Well, you see, there are these things called ‘Flight Manifests’ and pilots receive one for every flight.  Although I must admit I’ve never found one quite as useful as I do now. 

By the way, who uses their real name for a Grindr profile??

People who want their pilots to send them free booze.

Ah. Well, your grand scheme is working out quite nicely then, I’d say.

Seriously though, thank you for the drink. 

You’re most welcome, Alexander. (So useful, that manifest)

Nobody calls me that except for my mother when she’s angry with me. 

Would you rather I not?

No….you can. 

Good, because I’m fond of it. 

Speaking of things I’m fond of, Clary tells me that your "longest legs ever” have no business at all being in coach.

Ah, well, you can blame my sister and her last minute plans for that. 

Wait, do you have everyone spying on me?!

Not everyone, just Clary, I suppose. Though, to be fair, she mentioned your legs before I had her bring you a drink.  Seems “tall, dark, and handsome” appeals to all genders.

I’m going to need more alcohol if you’re going to keep saying things like that. 

I’ll let Clary know the gorgeous man with mile long legs in C36 needs another drink soon.

I’m actually blushing.

I’d give my Louis luggage to see that for myself. 

I don’t do selfies.

Really? Not even for the man who tried to get you a seat in First class? 

It was all booked. I checked. 

Yes, it is. But I tried to offer someone top shelf alcohol for the duration of the flight to switch with you. 

YOU DIDN’T. Please tell me you didn’t. 

Doesn’t matter. It didn’t work anyway. Please pass my apologies onto your legs. 

No.

No?

No. If you have a message for my legs, you’ll have to deliver it yourself. 

Do you really think it’s wise to cause a rise in the heart rate of the pilot who is flying your plane?

My bad. Pass my apologies onto your heart?

If I have to deliver messages in person, then you do as well. 

Can you put the pedal to the floor? Get us on the ground any faster?

Do you know anything at all about airplanes?

No, but you could teach me.

With pleasure. 

Lkkdfskhdkhsdfkhd.

 Did he really send a keysmash? He did. He did that, as eloquent as ever. Slightly mortified, he waited to be teased for it. When no message came through, he checked his Wi-Fi connection, then his watch, and finally scrolled through his playlist and chose some music, trying to busy himself with something other than shamelessly flirting with the man currently keeping them alive way above the surface of the earth. He was probably very busy at the moment and Alec had to get a grip, especially since they were only an hour and a half into the flight. 

By the time the dinner cart went through an hour later, Alec had returned a few more emails, done his budget for the month, organized all the photos in his gallery, and archived all the files on his phone that he didn’t need anymore. He also might have checked Grindr for new messages about twenty times, so he was more than a little ready for that second drink. 

This time the other attendant came through, the one with the darker skin and curly hair. She was just as helpful and nice as Clary, but much less hyper, and Alec found that she had a way about her that he liked. With a knowing smile she served him up the same drink as before. She didn’t even try to tell him where it came from, which he appreciated, because at this point he was more than a little self conscious that the entire staff seemed to know the pilot was sending him things. 

She took his dinner order and returned twenty minutes later with what could only amount to two standard airline meals and yet another glass of amber liquid. This one was smaller and accompanied by a bottle of water. He didn’t miss how she took his credit card and made herself look busy, before handing it back without actually swiping it. He gave her a genuine smile, very much appreciating her discretion and she patted his shoulder as she went by. 

He usually didn’t like to be touched by people, let alone strangers, reserving his physical affection for his family alone. Maybe it was the alcohol warming his veins or the fact that he was currently being lavished with gifts, but he found that the small touch made him happy.

Eventually, he was relaxed enough that he felt like he may actually be able to sleep, but he still declined a pillow and blanket when they came through passing them out to everyone. There was no way he was going to be able to get that comfortable around this many strangers. He made a quick trip to the restroom and stopped in the aisle to stretch his legs and torso as much as he could in the tight space, before regrettably sliding back into his seat. He knocked back the last bit of his drink and followed it with the water, before sliding his tray back up and settling in. His phone buzzed on his leg.

 How was dinner?

Pretty good, actually. I think I owe you a few hundred dollars at this point.

Nonsense, it was my pleasure.  

Thank you. 

Is it sad that this is probably better than any date I’ve ever had? 

That’s only because you haven’t been on a proper date with me ; )

Or because I’m bad at the whole dating thing. (Did you just winky face me?)

I think, given the right company, you’d do better than you think. (Yes, yes I did.)

Hah. A high compliment.

How about this for a compliment…….You really need to warn my staff before you go stretching in the aisle, again. Nobody benefits from a passed out crew.

Who told you about that?

Oh, just a little conversation between Clary and Maia.

Ugh. 

I like Maia. 

AND DON’T YOU HAVE A PLANE TO FLY?!

Shhhhhhhhh. I’m a professional, remember?

And I figured you would. She likes you, too.

Nobody likes me.

That’s very much not true. I happen to have it on good authority that just a small little sliver of your stomach can cause an impressive stir.

Please stop.

Are you blushing again?

I’m not sending you a selfie.

What if I pout?

Don’t do that. I’ll be forced to take one and then I’ll die of embarrassment. Nobody needs that. 

*Sighs* I rather like you living, so I’ll give you a pass this time.

So generous.

You have no idea how generous I can be.

You can’t just keep saying things like that to me.

Why not? I’m just trying to give you “sweet dreams” material.

That might be the cheesiest thing I’ve ever heard.

Did it make you smile?

Maybe……

Yes.

Good. Regrettably, I have to go do the heavy lifting now. I’ll leave you to sleep.

Sleep. Sure. Easy. No problem.

Goodnight, Alexander.

 Surprisingly, sleep came easier than he ever could have imagined it would, given the situation, which made him thankful for the food, booze, and the exhaustion that came with being up for almost twenty-four hours straight. He drifted off replaying the messages from Captain Bane in his head over and over and a relaxed smile on his face.

Alec woke with a start when the man in his row slid their window shade all the way up. He squinted against the bright sun, a clear indication that he slept longer than just a few hours. He rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands and tried to blink the sleep from them. When he looked around he saw that a few people were still sleeping, but most were awake and talking quietly, with various drinks and snacks. It seemed he had slept through the beverage cart and probably some announcements, and he imagined that they had to be pretty close to landing in Rome.

He hit his knee on something and looked down to see that someone had lowered his tray and placed a lidded cup of coffee, a bottle of water and a blueberry muffin on it. That’s when it all came back to him. He scrambled around in his lap to find his phone, dropping it on the floor in his haste. He leaned down in the tight space to get it and hit his head on the seatback in front of him. “Shit!” 

He glanced at his seatmates and said a quick, “Sorry,” for cursing and causing a ruckus, but didn’t pay attention to them long enough to see their reactions. He had much better things to do.

He managed to fish his phone off the floor and quickly straightened, sliding down his notifications with impressive speed and selecting the one he wanted.

 Good morning, Sleeping Beauty.  If you need anything else, let me know.

Alec grinned and took a big gulp of his coffee before replying. He needed to wake up fast.

You are a gift, you know that?

Does that mean you’re going to eagerly unwrap me?

It’s too early for sentences like that.

It’s never too early for sentences like that.

How long until we land?

An hour and seventeen minutes.

Aren’t you getting tired?

I’m used to it, darling. Don’t worry about me.

 Darling. He actively tried to keep a stupid smile from taking over his face. An hour. An hour until he exited this plane…..through the front of the plane. The front of the plane where this man currently was. Fuck. He needed a lot more coffee, a toothbrush, and a mirror STAT. He looked down at his crumpled t-shirt and jogging pants and swore under his breath. Truthfully, Alec wasn’t even sure he would be seeing him in person when they landed. He hadn’t seen him when they boarded, and so maybe it would be a repeat of that. That thought was too disappointing for him though, so he pushed it away and set about righting himself, just in case.

He drank his coffee down as quickly as he could without burning his mouth. Then he wrapped his muffin up in the package and put it in his backpack, knowing there was no way his nervous early morning stomach would tolerate it. He grabbed his toiletry bag and rushed to the bathroom before the imminent announcement that they had to stay in their seats.

Once he was folded in the cramped space, he brushed his teeth and thanked God for his recent haircut in preparation for the wedding. He spent a few minutes mussing his hair up with his fingers and a bit of water before deciding it was about as good as it was going to get. He ran his hand over his face and decided the scruff there wasn’t too bad, not bad enough to shave in an airplane bathroom, at least.

He started to stretch and then abruptly stopped, self-conscious that people would notice and he’d be the subject of mile-high gossip once again. He returned to his seat feeling a bit more human and a lot more nervous.

Clary came walking down the aisle with purpose, smiled way too brightly at him for 7 a.m. and handed him a folded up slip of paper. He hesitantly took it with a polite, “Thanks,” and immediately opened it and read the elegant script.

Meet me up front, if you want , after everyone else has deplaned. 

~M.

If you want. He wasn’t sure he had ever wanted anything so much in his life.

Captain Garroway came over the intercom to let them know they were beginning their descent and Alec didn’t comprehend any of it. He put his seatbelt on when others around him did and  tried to stop bouncing his leg nervously. Maybe he had a little too much coffee.

Ten minutes later they landed in Rome without incident, and Alec unbuckled his seatbelt and wiped his sweaty palms on his pants. Why the hell was he so nervous? He watched as the other passengers gathered their belongings and exited at an agonizingly slow pace. Twice he got up and helped someone get a bag out of the compartment to hurry the process along. He tried really fucking hard to not compare the man across from him to a sloth, like a total asshole. Finally, when it got to his row he stood up and let the man and woman go by him. 

Once they had their stuff gathered, the woman unexpectedly turned to Alec and said, “I just have to know, are you some kind of celebrity or something?” 

Alec balked.

The man with her looked shocked as he nudged her. “Jules!”

She shrugged. “What? It’s kind of obvious.” She turned back to Alec. “Which movies are you in?”

Alec huffed out a laugh, “What? No…” 

He was relieved when her boyfriend tugged her along even if he was kind of amused at the last disbelieving look she shot him.

The last few rows went by without any more accusations of stardom, which Alec was very grateful for, and then Clary passed by him last, with a wink and a little wave. He groaned out loud and didn’t even feel bad for it. 

There was movement at the front of the plane from the crew and he forced himself to not focus on any of it, but instead he pulled his suitcase out of the overhead bin and threw his backpack over his shoulder. He started walking.

It all became too real when he saw Clary and Maia exit the plane behind the passengers. That wasn’t normal, was it? That definitely wasn’t normal. Jesus Christ, his heart was going to beat out of his chest. He got to first class and the other pilot, Garroway, was standing there in front of the cockpit door, his bag in hand. He shot Alec a smug, crooked smile and left the plane without a word. 

And then there he stood.

There he stood looking way more beautiful than anyone who had been working all night had any right to. His eyes were bright and kohl-rimmed, his features strong and beautiful even as he nervously rubbed the fingers of his left hand together. He really was a kind of perfect that Alec hadn’t even realized existed. He wanted to devour him.

Alec watched, a little stunned, as he stepped forward. Then, he tilted his head up in a challenge and parted his lips, and that was all it took. 

Alec abandoned his luggage right there in the aisle and went to him. He reached out with both hands, pressing one hand to his hip and grabbing his shirt with the other, pulling him into him. He kissed him hard, already drowning in the scent of him, the feel of him. 

They started stumbling backward, and Alec realized that he was throwing his weight around too much, but fucking hell, he couldn’t help it. He couldn’t even think as he pressed their lips together over and over. He wanted it hard and fast, soft and slow, any and every way he could have him.

They stumbled through the door and into the back of the captain’s chair with an “oomph” and Alec opened his eyes briefly to drink him in.

 “Alec,” he said, his breath hot on Alec’s lips, eyes still closed.

“Magnus,” Alec said, stepping into him even more, closing the tiniest bit of space that was left between them. “Fuck, I missed you.”

Magnus opened his eyes and smiled at him. “Yes, I can feel that,” he said, rolling his hips against Alec’s.

“You haven’t felt anything yet,” Alec said, his voice gruff.

Magnus slid a hand between them, “Oh, this isn’t just anything,” he said, rubbing fingers down Alec’s length through his pants. He curled them under the waistband and tugged, causing Alec to go from half-hard to fully erect in no time flat. “I like these pants…….a lot.”

Alec rubbed circles on Magnus’ ribcage with his thumb to distract himself so he could manage to speak a coherent sentence. “They’re perfect for long flights.”

He nearly whimpered when Magnus retracted his hand, but somehow still managed to narrow his eyes at him. “Speaking of long flights,” he said, “I’m supposed to be mad at you.”

Magnus smiled at him. “Oh, really? Whatever did I do?”

At that moment he realized how much he had missed that. His smile, his cunning wit, the elegance with which he spoke, his humor. All of it. He had missed all of Magnus. Desperately. He couldn’t believe he even considered the notion that anyone he met on a hookup app would be enough.

He stepped back a little bit, trying to be serious, but he didn’t remove his hands from Magnus’ waist, because he wasn’t planning on going far, maybe ever. “Well, you were in the city where I live and you didn’t even call me,” he accused, trying not to sound too desperate and probably failing miserably.

Magnus’ eyes twinkled with mischief, which should have prepared Alec for what came next, but before he knew it Magnus had changed their positions, and Alec was being pushed back against the chair, with Magnus pressing up against him, chest to hip. He leaned in and whispered in Alec’s ear, “Mmmmmm, well, if you needed me to dick you down, all you had to do was say something.” He nibbled gently at his earlobe and Alec almost forgot how to move air.

Fucking hell, if that didn’t make him damn near want to beg. “This is me saying something.”

Magnus kissed his neck ever so lightly, which sent shivers all the way down his body. “Hmmmm, what exactly are you saying, darling?”

“Magnus,” he said, exasperated and damn near floating with desire. Or lack of oxygen. Probably both.

“Alexander,” he practically purred back.

That was the first time Alec had ever heard him say his full name and he hoped it wasn’t even close to the last time. He actually fucking whimpered, and that was when he decided this wasn’t the time to be stubborn. “I need you to dick me down,” he admitted, snaking a hand up and grabbing Magnus’ hair. He pulled his head back and away from his neck to get back some control, instead kissing him deeply, sliding his tongue into his mouth and languidly tasting him. 

Magnus moaned into his mouth and returned the kiss with equal intensity, before pulling away to answer him, grinding their hips together once more for good measure.

“With pleasure, if you promise to put that beautiful mouth of yours to good use.”

Alec’s whole body was singing at that promise. “Deal.” He looked around, thinking of logistics for all the things they were about to do, and then he was snapped back into the reality of exactly where they were.

“You’re a pilot,” he said, matter of fact, even if a little breathless.

“I am.” Magnus smiled. “Are you impressed?”

“Very, but what else is new?” Alec answered.

Magnus laughed, “I have to admit this is turning out most favorable for me as well.”

Alec looked around, “How long before you have to fly out again?” 

Magnus said, “A couple of days…ish.”

“Ish?” Alec asked.

“That’s what I said.”

“Can you come to my hotel later?” Alec asked.

Magnus bit his bottom lip, then grinned. “You aren’t even a little tempted to do it right here, Alec? It is a Cock-pit, after all. It’s right there in the name,” he whispered.

Alec smiled, “Wow.” Honestly, fuck him for being so sexy while delivering such outrageous lines.

Magnus laughed deeply, and Alec ran a large hand down his chest and pulled his shirt down to kiss what he could of his collar bone. “Believe me, I’m very, very tempted, but I want to get you completely naked, lay you out on a bed, and take my time with you. I’ve had enough of cramped spaces for a while.”

“How could I possibly argue with that logic?” Magnus asked.

“You can’t,” Alec said.

“Text me your hotel information and give me a couple of hours?” Magnus asked.

The “couple of hours” part had him rethinking the whole “fucking in the cockpit of this plane” business, but he pushed away from Magnus with Herculean effort and placed one last and lingering kiss to his lips. 

Alec forced himself to go back into the plane to collect his belongings, feeling Magnus’ eyes on him the whole way. When he passed by him again, Magnus was leaning against the door, a knowing smirk on his face. 

Alec gestured to Magnus’ uniform. “Are you going to be wearing this when you stop by?” He couldn’t resist asking.

Magnus’ eyes crinkled with his smile. “Ooh, does someone have a kink?” 

“Says the man who’s obsessed with my legs,” he countered, grinning back.

Magnus laughed, and Alec thought that it might very well be the most beautiful sound he’d ever heard. “Get out of my airplane, Alexander.”

[coneygoil]

The Home We Built Together, part 19

Two young Vikings. An arranged marriage. Hiccup always wanted to win the girl of his dreams, but not like this. Now he and Astrid must learn to live together and maybe one day, learn to love…

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9| Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 14 | Part 15 | Part 16 | Part 17 | Part 18

Writer’s note: Okay, yall. I brainstormed this chapter for a long time, even before I got to it. Then I let the details happen while in the process of writing. I like how it came out, and hope yall do too! 

“You want me to get on that…thing?” Distaste dripped off Astrid’s tongue. She scrunched her nose at the annoyed snort that blew from the dragon’s nostrils aimed toward her. Apparently, he didn’t appreciate her attitude.

Hiccup splayed his hands out. “That’s sorta the point of how I’d show you how cool Toothless is.”

Astrid eyed him doubtfully. “And you’ve been riding this dragon for how long?”

“About two and a half weeks.” A thoughtful expression crossed Hiccup’s face. “I was clinging to his tail the first time, so I don’t necessarily count that ride.”

Astrid huffed. She couldn’t believe she was actually considering this. “Hiccup, I swear to Thor, if this thing throws me off, you better pray to Odin I don’t survive, because you will experience my axe handle being shoved up in places the sun doesn’t shine. And then I’ll divorce you.”

Hiccup drew in a deep breath. “Fair enough.”

Astrid cringed as she climbed atop the dragon’s back to sit behind Hiccup. She’d glared at him as she shooed away his offered hand. Her skin crawled at the feel of the dragon’s warm scales through the material of her tights. She didn’t know where to rest her hands and held arms out at her sides as if she’d be poisoned instantly if her skin came in contact with the dragon’s hide.

Hiccup leaned close to the dragon’s head. “Toothless, be gentle.”

The dragon sunk low to the ground, wiggling its tail and Astrid assumed it was preparing to launch.

“You might want to hold on,” Hiccup suggested the split second before the dragon shot into the air.

It was official. She’d gone mad, and it was all her scrawny husband’s fault.

Astrid had been through many terrifying situations. A Monstrous Nightmare had torched her roof and crawled into her home when she was a little girl. She’d stood her ground with her little axe clinched in her fists, ready to defend her home from the flaming demon.

But fighting dragons and flying on the backs of them were two completely different circumstances and facing down the fiery Nightmare as a child seemed like a picnic on the shoreline compared to the weightless feeling of shooting to the sky with no guarantee of plummeting to your death.

A bloodcurdling scream reverberated through her as she grabbed for anything to hold on to. Her legs wrapped around Hiccup’s waist as one hand found his shoulder guard, and another latched onto to his hair. She yanked herself upright, Hiccup’s small frame barely keeping both of them in the saddle.

The dragon leveled out at an alarming height over the sea. Astrid pressed her torso up against Hiccup’s back and gripped both arms around his chest.

“He’s not usually like this,” Hiccup laughed nervously, glancing back at her. “Oh no—” he managed to slip out before the dragon plummeted at a speed only the gods were capable of.

“I’m sorry!” Astrid blurted out, pressing her forehead into Hiccup’s back so hard she could have pushed right through him. The dragon had seemed okay with her until she’d insulted him. She didn’t realize dragons could get insulted. But in this moment, that was the explanation that popped in her head and she had to make it right, or else she’d die of fright and that would be the most embarrassing death imaginable. “I’m sorry for calling him a thing, all right?!”

There was sudden jerk upwards, as if strings had been yanked, and the dragon leveled out.

Astrid clung to her husband’s small frame, eyes screwed shut and breath ragged from her lungs. The wind blew across her bare arms in a nice, steady stream as the dragon glided straightforward.

“You can open your eyes, milady,” Hiccup’s gentle voice encouraged. She was suddenly aware of his hand covering her and his thumb grazing over her knuckles in a soothing manner.

The ends of Hiccup’s hair tickled her face as she dislodged from his back. Astrid squinted as the wind blew in her eyes. White air surrounded them, and she realized they were soaring through the clouds.

The comfort of Hiccup’s touch faded as he withdrew his hand to hang on to the saddle. Astrid swallowed the lump that had formed in her throat. Fear was replaced by curiosity as she grasped Hiccup’s shoulder with one hand and reached out to touch the clouds with the other.

A laugh of relief escaped her as she watched a cloud ribbon through her fingers. She completely forgot that she was a mountain high off the ground, and that height was achieved by riding a dragon. She looked out, unafraid. A city of clouds was all around them. Her heart quickened, but this time it was from the amazing sight she was currently beholding.

Hiccup glanced over her shoulder, beaming at her. His delight gave her the encouragement to let go of his shoulder and throw both arms into the air. The damp coolness of the clouds caused a shiver to ripple along her skin.

The dragon glided lower, exiting the cover of the clouds. Astrid gasped at the horizon as the sun was beginning to set. Rich and glowing orange painted the sky. The sea raced by in a magnificent blur of white caps and dark streaks. She’d never seen anything this extraordinary.

They circled away from the sunset, the dark of evening now shrouding the sky.

Through a patch of clouds, they emerged onto the brilliant sight of the village of Berk. They passed the great stone statues of the past kings, their wide mouths glowing with eternal flames. Astrid was awestruck. Never had she seen Berk from such an amazing viewpoint. The torches were like little yellow dots scattered all over the shelves of the isle. Her mouth formed a silent ‘wow’ at the lights glittering in her eyes.

Astrid rested her chin on Hiccup’s shoulder, snaking her arms around his middle and hugging against him. A warmth had seeped into her belly and little sparks tingled her limbs.

“What do you think of the ride?” Hiccup asked, breaking the spell that had mesmerized her.

“I have to admit, it’s pretty cool,” which was completely an understatement compared to the thrill teeming inside her. She rolled her chin on his shoulder to get a better view of the side of his face. “Hiccup, why didn’t you tell me about him?”

She noticed in the moonlight Hiccup’s knuckles tightening on the saddle. After a tentative moment, he asked far too softly as if afraid of the answer she’d provide, “What would you have done if I did?”

Astrid waited a several seconds to answer. For the first time ever, she didn’t like what she was about to say concerning a dragon. “I probably would have told your father and he’d have killed him,” she swallowed hard, “or I would have tried to kill him myself.”

She felt the deep breath in Hiccup’s back. “And in both of those cases, I would have lost the two most important individuals in my life.”

Hiccup’s brokenness in those words stabbed deep into Astrid’s stomach. She slid her forehead to rest against his shoulder blade and screwed her eyes shut tightly. An ache like none she’d ever experienced burdened her heart. She couldn’t imagine losing Hiccup. Not now.

They’d only been married a few months. They hadn’t made confessions of love for one another, or even consummated their marriage. But Astrid knew right then that if she lost him from death or other circumstances, she wouldn’t recover. Her lips left barely a kiss on the back of his throat, the need to be close to him stronger than ever.

Even after the lying and the secrets and befriending the enemy, everything in Astrid’s being was being pulled to stick with Hiccup. It went against everything she stood for her entire life, but by his side was more important now than traditional thinking that had been ingrained in her since birth.

By the time they’d landed, Astrid had convinced herself to call the dragon by name. It would take getting used to, being tolerate toward a dragon, but she was willing.

Astrid hopped off Toothless first. “Thanks for the ride,” she said to him, feeling awkward speaking directly to a dragon. Toothless seemed to understand and warbled cheerfully back at her.

Hiccup joined her on the ground, his head hung low. He sucked in his bottom lip, seeming to prepare himself for what was to come. “Will you keep Toothless a secret?” He met her gaze suddenly with a look of determination and resolve, along with a twinge of pain in his voice. “Because if you’re not, me and him will be gone before morning. Just give us a head start is all I ask.”

Astrid scrunched her cheeks, his plan throwing her for a loop. She reared her elbow back, landing a punch to his forearm. “You’re not going anywhere. I’ll keep your secret.”

Hiccup grabbed his arm, throwing her an incredulous look. “Okay, but you didn’t have to hit me to give me the answer.”

Astrid leaned on her left hip, folding arms over her chest. “Oh, that was actually for kidnapping me and making me think I was about to be eaten by a dragon.”

“Well, just trying to sweep my girl off her feet.” How nonchalant.

The corny remark sent a little wave of giddiness through her. How did he have such an effect on her! She hauled him in by the leather strap across his chest and let him know how she really felt about being swept off her feet. She didn’t give him time to react before breaking the kiss. A goofy little grin formed on his face causing heat to rise in her cheeks.

Toothless chose that moment to rejoin them, his thirst after the flight satisfied by the crystal clear lake. He nudged Hiccup’s arm, and Hiccup smiled at Toothless, patting his head. The dragon seemed gentle and friendly, nothing like Astrid had ever seen before. How could a dragon be this way?

“Thank you, Astrid, for keeping Toothless a secret,” Hiccup acknowledged with a stroke of gratitude. A ripple of fervor made its way through Astrid seeing how much this meant to him. If there was one thing she’d learned about Hiccup since their nuptials, it was how passionate he could be for what was important to him.

“Don’t make me regret it,” she added, because she trusted Hiccup but her trust in Toothless was still on trial.

Hiccup cracked that gaped-tooth smile of his. “We won’t.” He scrubbed his knuckle between Toothless’ ears. “Right, bud?”

Toothless pointed his nose in the air, warbling.

The moon hung high and the evening’s chill had set in. “We better get home. It’s getting late.”

Hiccup nodded, solemnly. He scratched under Toothless’ chin. “I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”

Toothless gave a rumble in response, flicking his tongue out to lick Hiccup’s cheek. Astrid turned away before she reacted out of instinct. The shock of a dragon not consuming her husband whole was too much to handle for the time being.  

She held out her hand for Hiccup to take. He glanced down at the offer unsure, as if not believing she wanted him to hold her hand. Why did he doubt her physical affection still?

Hiccup finally accepted it, and she squeezed his hand reassuring him that everything was okay. She didn’t know how long their secret would stay concealed or what would happen if it were ever discovered. For now, she would do everything within her power to keep the dragon safe, for Hiccup’s sake.

  @martabm90 @chiefhiccstrid  @lauracalabresi

[the-dragon-central]

I've seen someone asking a author to write a Switched Personality AU of Hiccup and Astrid so can any of you guys do a switch personality AU of the two? I would like to see how one of you guys can write it!!

Hi Anon, @astrid-foreverythingelse here!  I hope you enjoy :)

Astrid Hofferson huffed as she trudged through the forest, thinking over the day’s events.  Hiccup Haddock, the Chief’s son, had bested her again.  Out of nowhere!  By the time she had worked up the courage to throw herself over the short wooden wall, Hiccup already had that Gronkle incapacitated.  How did he do it?!

And at that point, it was no surprise to Astrid that Hiccup would receive the honor of killing the Monstrous Nightmare.  And he didn’t even seem to care!  No, no he looked annoyed, like it was an inconvenience to have to kill the beast.

If only Astrid had that luxury…

Astrid didn’t want to kill any animal, dragon or not.  She had the ability, sure, but she didn’t want to.  But she was a better fighter than the other teens on Berk, and everyone knew it.  Everyone expected her to soar through Dragon Training and succeed in the Kill Ring unchallenged.  Even when the cocky Hiccup Haddock showed up, no one expected any different.

No, not cocky…  It may have been how the rest of Berk described the Chief’s son, but Astrid knew better.  She knew it was…  Confidence.  He understood he didn’t quite belong or fit in with the other Viking teens.  He was different, yes, but that didn’t stand in his way; he never let it get to him.  He seemed comfortable being on his own, like he knew it was his place and he was quite content with it.

Astrid groaned and began swinging her axe lazily across her body.  Why couldn’t she be like that?  Why couldn’t she have that no-care attitude that Hiccup had?

Astrid cared a little too much about what people thought of her, particularly her parents.  Which, admittedly, had never been a problem until recently.  Astrid has always excelled at anything she put her mind to, as she was much more determined than the other Vikings her age.  Eventually it was just expected of Astrid to always give her all and then some, and it was expected to result in her success.

Dragon Training was no different.  And Astrid wasn’t worried; she was stronger than Fishlegs, more focused than the twins, and much more tactical than Snotlout.  Even when Hiccup sauntered in, she didn’t think anyone could best her (nor did anyone else).  Hiccup was scrawny and was only there because his father forced him.  He was a non-issue.

But then…  The success he had was not only unmatched but unlike anything anyone had witnessed before in that Kill Ring.  He hadn’t even injured a single dragon!  But everyone was entirely impressed; he seemed to incapacitate each one effortlessly, just like the Gronkle today.  No one even saw how he did it!  But one moment it was flying towards him, and the next it was on its side, lying uninjured on the ground!  Why was everyone impressed?!  This wasn’t Dragon Subduing Training, it was Dragon Killing Training!

In Astrid’s anger, she lost focus on her axe despite continuing to swing it with increasing force; it slipped from her grasp at just the wrong time and flew into the trees ahead.  She watched as the butt of the handle hit the ground, making the axe bounce even further away and out of sight.  Astrid dropped her head and sighed.  Scrubbing her eyes with the heels of her hand, she gathered her pride and began searching for the weapon, leading her to a sudden drop in the ground.  The break in the trees revealed a beautiful cove with a sparkling pond in the center surrounded by a wall of boulders…  And her axe wedge in the ground below.

“Great,” she muttered, carefully planning a way the scale the rocky ridge.  It took some time, but eventually her feet landed in the soft ground below.  She grabbed her axe and started circling the ridges, trying to spot the best way to scale back up to high ground.

That was when she heard the nasally voice behind her.

“We’re so leaving!  We’re leaving.”

Astrid froze.  What was he doing out here?!

“Let’s pack up.  Looks like you and me are taking a little…  Astrid?”

Astrid’s eyes grew wide as she spun around.  “Uh…  Hi, Hiccup…”

He furrowed his eyebrows and dropped the basket he was carrying on his back.  “What in Thor’s name are you doing out here?”

“I, um…  I could ask you the same thing.”

He raised his eyebrows.

Astrid’s eyes flicked to the side.  “I just…  I threw my axe down here on accident and uh…  I just…”

Hiccup pursed his lips.

“…I wanted it back.”

“Yeah?  Maybe don’t throw it down into a cove next time,” he said, picking the basket up and shouldering past her.

“Well I didn’t do it on purpose,” she said, offended.  She looked around, desperately wanting to escape the situation.

But then she realized…  Why was Hiccup Haddock down here in a cove?  With a basket on his shoulder and a harness-like vest around his body no less?

“Are you just going to stand there or are you going to go home?” he asked, and this time Astrid caught a very slight tone of desperation in his voice.

“I just…  I’m looking for the best exit point so…  Um, who were you talking to earlier?”

“You?”

“No, before that.”

Hiccup rolled his eyes.  “Myself, now would you just get out of here?”

“Alright, alright, jeez…”  Astrid started to walk away, now looking for a place she could climb up to and hide to watch Hiccup.  He was acting strange, and she wanted to know why - and make sure he wasn’t in danger.

But then she saw the sleek, black body swallowed in the shadows on the other side of the cove.  She almost missed it, but the green eyes engulfed her soul.  She stumbled backwards.  No, it couldn’t be.  “Ni…  Night…”

Hiccup spun around, seeing her eyes trained on the black Night Fury as he slunk out of the shadows.  Great.  Hiccup ran after her.  “Astrid, put the axe down!”

She took a step back, grip tightening in fear.  “Night…”

“For Thor’s sake,” Hiccup muttered.  He saw the dragon furl back on his hind legs and pushed his own faster.  “Astrid!  Your axe!”

Wrong phrasing.  Astrid’s attention dropped to the weapon in her hand, but instead of dropping it like Hiccup wanted, she gripped it tighter and shifted to a weak fighting stance.

Hiccup managed to throw her axe to the side and push Astrid behind his back just as the dragon landed mere feet from the two Vikings.  “Woah, woah there bud!  It’s okay, she’s a friend!  Calm down, Toothless, it’s okay.”

Astrid was stunned.  He did it again!  They weren’t even in the Kill Ring and he bested her again!  But then something slipped through her internal rant.  “Toothless?” she asked, though the word was more of a squeak.

The dragon’s ears perked up as its gaze shifted to Astrid, head tilted slightly to the side.  “Yeah,” Hiccup said carefully.  “It’s his name.”

Astrid wanted to look at Hiccup to see if he was serious, but she couldn’t pull her eyes from the dragon’s gaze.  “His?  Name?”

“Astrid…”  Hiccup placated.  “It’s okay, he won’t hurt you.”

Now her gaze flicked between the large black dragon and the crazy scrawny Viking before her.  “He…  He’s…”

“A dragon, yes, but he won’t hurt you.”  Hiccup took a step toward her, hands outstretched in a show of surrender.

Toothless seemed quite curious of this new female Viking, and his male Viking friend had made it clear she was also friendly.  So he slowly approached her, wanting to familiarize himself with her scent as to not attack her if she ever came around again.  That would surely please his human.

Hiccup watched as Toothless lowered his head and slowly approached Astrid.  Her eyes immediately widened, but she was frozen in place.  “Uh, bud, I’m not sure if she’s ready for that,” he said.  But deep down he was also curious about not only what the dragon was doing but also how Astrid would react, so he didn’t try any further to stop it.

All Toothless did was raise his head and sniff Astrid’s hair.  She looked up at the dragon, now towering over her, but her eyes continued to rise and roll into the back of her head as she collapsed on the ground.

Hiccup rolled his eyes and looked at Toothless, who was still curiously sniffing the girl.  “Great.  Now what’re we supposed to do with her?”

~~~

When Astrid came to, the first thing she realized was that it was very windy.  More windy than any storm she could remember, the force of the gusts snapping her clothes against her skin and pulling her hair sideways across her face.

The next thing she realized was that she was draped over something, not just laying on the ground.  Confused, her eyes fluttered open as she tried to regain her bearings.  As her eyes began to adjust to the bright light of the sun, she realized a hand was resting on her back.

“What…?”

“And she lives,” a nasally voice sarcastically quipped.

Suddenly the imagine of a large black dragon innocently poised behind the crazy, scrawny Viking boy popped into her head.

Until, that was, she looked down to see the sea churning a mountain’s height below her.

The scream that tore out of Astrid’s mouth pierced Hiccup’s ears and startled Toothless below them.  Her sudden movement as she attempting to pull herself upright coupled with Toothless swerving slightly in his surprise just about sent Astrid toppling backwards off the scaly beast.  She saw a very vivid image of her crashing into the water below in her mind, but then a firm hand wrapped around her waist and pulled her against his chest.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.  This high up, that water will probably shatter every bone in your body.”

Astrid wanted to pull away from Hiccup, but at this point he was the only sturdy thing for her to hold on to excluding the dragon.  So instead she just clutched to his arm for dear life.  She tried to slow her breathing and calm herself, but her eyes were crazed with fear when they met Hiccup’s.  He raised his eyebrows.  “Can I help you?” he added sarcastically.

“Get. Me. Down,” Astrid breathlessly replied.

“Nah, I’m good,” Hiccup said, shrugging as he leaned back in the saddle and propped himself up on his free hand.  Astrid moved with him to his surprise, refusing to let his arm go.

“Why?” she threatened, though the breathy tone dissipated any force.

“So you can run off and tell the whole village what the kooky Chief’s son has done this time?  I don’t think so.  Normally I wouldn’t care, but I also don’t want to be banished.  This might be the thing that actually pushes my father over the edge.”

Astrid was quickly realizing her attempts at remaining calm were failing miserably.  “Hic-Hi-Hiccup please get me on the ground,” she insisted, anxiety rising higher the longer she stared at the glassy water below.

Hiccup noticed the fear only growing in her eyes and felt slightly guilty about throwing her on his dragon’s back for a impromptu flight.  But he also didn’t know how to get her back to Berk unconscious, and he had to find a way to make her see that Toothless wasn’t a threat.  So he sighed and sat back up.  “Come on, he’s not that bad.”

She didn’t even seem to hear him.  Her breathing quickened even more and tears began to form in her eyes as she stared at the water.

Hiccup’s brows furrowed in concern.  He gave in, not wanting her to pass out again but also not liking the fear still building in her eyes.  It didn’t suit her.  He adjusted his arm from a strictly securing hold to more of an embrace, pulling her closer to his chest.  He leaned forward and patted the side of Toothless’ head.  “Why don’t we glide right over the water for a while, bud?  Slowly.” he said.  Astrid curled into his chest, still clutching his arm as he leaned protectively over her hunched form and held onto the saddle with his free hand.  Toothless gently sloped down until the water was only an arm’s length away.

Hiccup smiled down at Astrid as she curiously unfolded her head.  He loosened his grip, but Astrid tightened hers immediately around his arm.  “It’s okay,” he said with a smile.  She looked like she didn’t want to let go still, but she gave him enough slack to move.  He leaned over and broke the surface of the water with his fingers, closing his eyes and enjoying the feeling of the wind cutting through his hairline in the same way his fingers cut through the glassy surface.  He opened his eyes again and smiled up at Astrid.  “See?  It’s not so bad!”

She wasn’t convinced enough to match his posture, but Hiccup could see her starting to relax.  Her legs were unfolded from beneath her now and hanging over one side of the dragon.  What he didn’t realize was that she was more curious about this new smiling and inviting Hiccup than the things the black beast she was currently riding could do.  Something about his excitement to share this new discovery of friendly dragons with someone was intriguing.

“Nice smile you got there,” he said as he straightened up, surprising Astrid.  She hadn’t realized her breathing had returned to a normal pace and a small smile replaced the fearful grimace.  Even more so, it surprised her that the phrase sounded like a true compliment rather than a tease.

He wrapped his arm tighter around Astrid’s waist and patted Toothless again.  “Alright bud, let’s show her what you got.”

The dragon warbled excitedly and began to climb towards the sky.  Astrid yelped and threw an arm around Hiccup’s shoulders as her opposite hand gripped his tunic collar, but she wasn’t as fearful as before.  She was able to appreciate the pure beauty of the land, sea, and sky surrounding Berk in a way she never could before.  The glow of the sunset casted warm colors over the fluffy clouds that seemed to disappear the moment she reached a hand out to touch them, yet were still clearly present and left her hands feeling as if the sea had gently sprayed them.  Birds flocked around the trio as they weaved in and out of sea stacks.  Fish happily leapt from the water as they glided along the surface of the sea.  Astrid wouldn’t have noticed time had passed at all if it weren’t for the sinking of the sun over the horizon and the darkening of the world around them.  Her arm stayed around Hiccup’s shoulders and her hand still over his chest but no longer in the death grip from before; by now her body was entirely relaxed and she held few qualms of being so high above the world.

She took a deep breath.  “I have to admit, this is all pretty amazing.”  Looking down at Toothless she added, “He’s pretty amazing too.”

“Amazing enough to keep him a secret?”

Astrid turned her head to respond, but was frozen to silence when she realized how close her face was to his.  She could feel his warm breath on her lips as she tried to form her reply.  “I…  I think I could, uh…  Could do that.”

“You think?” he muttered, though the sarcastic tone he typically responded with was replaced with genuine care and curiosity.

“Mhm,” she muttered shyly, unable to string together any other sort of reply.

“What else do I have to do to convince you?” he asked.  Astrid’s cheeks blushed and her lips desperately moved to form words.  Hiccup chuckled at her hesitation, but his desires won over; he leaned in and closed the distance swiftly, causing Astrid to stiffen as their lips brushed together.  But it took only a moment for her to relax into the kiss as Toothless made his way back to the cove.

Hiccup pulled away as Toothless landed back on the ground.  “How about now?” he softly asked.

Astrid tried to look away as she brushed her hair behind her ear, but she could keep her eyes from traveling back to Hiccup’s now kind gaze.  He chuckled again and slipped down off Toothless, holding a hand up to Astrid.  She took it, but was still quite unsteady and fell off the dragon into Hiccup’s arms.  He set her back on the ground as Toothless turned his head, gently nudging his nose against her back.  When she turned around, the dragon’s deadly stare was replaced by a pleading glance.  She hesitated for a moment.

Seeing her hesitation, Hiccup wrapped an arm casually around her waist again and held a hand out to Toothless, stroking his snout.  Astrid looked at him and smiled, admiring the soft side she’d never seen in him.  She mimicked his motion, reaching out her hand and gently stroking the surprisingly warm scales.  “I’ll keep your secret.”

[sapphyrelily]

vista

The humidity is a blanket you wear unwillingly, draped across your shoulders, hanging down and covering your body. Beads of sweat crown you, dotting temple to temple, across your forehead; some drops trickle from beneath your hair, sliding down your nape.

Your fingers dig into the tough, hairy bough beneath you; you grit your teeth as you find a foothold, haul yourself up.

Hot palms press against your skin, helping you, aiding you, pulling you up on the oversized vine until you squeeze the bough between your knees, trembling from the exertion. You slump forward, resting your cheek against the plant material – warm, from the heat of the day.

A careful hand brushes the hair out of your face – you are grateful. Still, you are tired, but you don’t really want to complain–

Are we there yet?

Ah, now you don’t have to. He’s done it for you.

You turn your head the other way, tilted up. You want to watch the confrontation, because it’s always amusing.

Almost, the silver-haired man says, arms folded. His gaze softens at the sight of you, sprawled across the vine. We can fly the rest of the way, if you want.

Oh, do you want.

Not fair, the blond complains. He’s seated on the vine, legs hanging, swinging in the air, finger pulling at the neck of his shirt. We can’t fly.

Nor do we ever want you to. The mutter comes from your least favourite hawk – never mind that you only know one hawk – where he stands, peering out from behind the silver-haired man. You’re enough trouble on fours, imagine if you had wings.

You can’t help it; you snort, smiling sheepishly at them when they look over at you. He does have a point, you tell them, and the blond looks so crestfallen for a second that you giggle.

I still love you.

He perks up at that, and then there’s a red-gold fox trotting over, nudging at your sweat-damp hair, poking your cheek with his nose. It’s cold and damp, and you startle a little at the feeling, before you smile.

You both hear the growl, but the fox’s tail only twitches – almost dismissive, in the way that he never looks back.

You push yourself upright, quickly. It’s better not to let them start a fight, especially when you’re so high up. You dare not look down. The forest floor is too far away – you’d rather not test the boundaries of your limited ability to withstand heights. You look up, meet the eyes of your most dedicated protector. His cocoa eyes are still hard with irritation.

Lead the way.

The silver-haired man blinks, irritation fading. He reaches for your hand, and the red-gold fox trots away, sitting and looking on sourly. The brunet takes your hand as well – the three of you stand, balancing on the uneven surface of the vine. It feels smaller than it did before.

See you at the top. It’s the grey-haired man who speaks, a hand clamped on the fox-form of his brother – holding him back? We’ll find a way up.

The silver-haired man nods, and then the two hands you were holding on to slide out from between your fingers, leaving you with a whisper in your ears. You close your eyes – against the height, but also to focus on their words.

Feel the wind catch you, lift you up.

Beat your wings, open your eyes.

See what we see.

You feel them leave you, hear the swoop and flap of wings. You jump off in a dive–

And lift your arms, catching wind. It knocks the breath from you, and you move your arms instinctively, beating the air, soaring up. Your eyes open, taking in the emerald spread of the jungle below, the gold beams called sunlight cutting through the foliage, the painted shadows deepening in contrast to the light.

You can feel it now, the wind slipping through feathers, and you wonder how those got there. It’s a thought immediately pushed aside for later, as your eyes dart, seeking the backs of those who will guide you.

There’s a screech from above and ahead, but this time you hear clearly, and you move your wings, hurrying to join them.

Come. Follow us.

Your eyes find them – an eagle with black-tipped wings, a smaller hawk with plumage the colour of sand. Or perhaps, that’s just the sunlight reflecting off him. You beat your wings – such an odd sensation, to be so powerful, so strong. Yet it feels so natural, and you rise to follow them.

They move swiftly, dodging through small gaps, rising above and above. It’s your first time, but you feel as if you’ve been doing it forever – your eyes spot their formation, the route they take – your muscles mimic and follow. It’s almost natural, how you find and forge your own path, how you dodge obstacles and roll out of the way. You feel as if you will never tire, exhilarated as you are – the wind feels so good, and everything is sharp and clear.

But you spot the plateau they are flying towards, and as you tuck your wings to dive, you feel almost disappointed. That your first flight is over. That you wouldn’t feel that rush of adrenaline again.

How is it that you can fly, anyway?

You want to land, but hit the ground and skid, roll, a gasp tearing out. The pain is sharp, fleeting. Then the shout comes, followed by footsteps thundering, hands brushing over your skin and helping you to sit.

Are you alright? What happened?

You look down at your arms, at the dirt and leaves smeared on them. The pain is gone, now, and you look back to them, smiling wryly. I thought about why it was I could fly.

There’s a huff of exasperation, and hands on your face, in your hair. Picking out bits of broken foliage, smoothing over skin, checking, probing for injuries. The more you think about it, the silver-haired man says, the less likely you are to succeed.

Your lips quirk up. Don’t think, just do?

Precisely.

There’s another cry behind you, and you turn to see your foxes – in human form – pulling themselves through a white tear, tripping and spilling and stumbling over to you. You barely have time to realise that they cheated when they arrive, words tumbling out.

What happened? Are you okay?

You laugh a little, at how their concern mirrors that of your birds of prey. Yes, yes. It doesn’t hurt at all.

Four pairs of eyes look at you, unbelieving. You roll your eyes. I’m fine.

They don’t seem convinced. The grey-haired man sits, reaching over – he pulls more foliage from your hair. The brunet joins him; there must be half the forest tangled in the nest on your head, if they are doing this. You are left staring up at the blond and the silver-haired man – they are having a staring match.

It was your responsibility to make sure nothing happened. The blond jabs the silver-haired man in the chest, his face contorted with a snarl. Look what happened!

You see red, eyes honing in on the offending digit pressed into the silver-haired man’s chest. But you can be reasonable. You can discuss this calmly. So you speak. It’s not his fau–

Your words are brushed away, spoken over. The blond goes on, ranting about how irresponsible and careless the silver-haired man is, to let such a thing happen to you. The other stares at him, mildly baffled – as if in shock that the other is scolding him. The look of confusion enrages the blond further, and he jabs him several more times, the force behind each jab – stab – growing and growing. If I was in charge, I wouldn’t have allowed this–

Stop it! You jump at him. Your irritation at being ignored and indignation for the silver-haired man has boiled over – it manifests as snaps at the blond’s finger. You miss, land effortlessly and turn to face him, hackles raised. A growl works its way out of your throat, your ears are pressed back against your skull – you realise what has happened.

Huh. First an eagle, then a fox. Today is full of new things.

You feel everyone staring at you – in shock? It’s the blond who speaks first, an indescribable look on his face as he examines his finger.

Huh. Kinky.

You think you hear the silver-haired man growl as you leap at the blond again – does his idiocy know no bounds? – but he steps back, and the red-gold fox faces you instead. He puts his head down on his paws, looking up at you, eyes wide. He lets out a small yip.

I’m not really sorry.

You rush him, snapping at his neck, but he skips away, steps light. His tail wags, and you can’t believe it – he’s having fun, after having the audacity to insult your fiercest guardian. For a mistake that you made, not that he knows that. He refused to listen to your explanation.

Come back here.

Why? You can play with me!

You leap at him again; he dodges. But a flying blur knocks him down, pins him, and you trot up to red-gold smothered by grey-brown, staring at his upside-down muzzle.

You bare your teeth. Don’t touch my eagle.

A confused sound slips out of him. I didn’t even get to.

You jabbed him!

Bah. A small act.

Your jaws close around his neck to shake him. The scent and taste of fur choke you, but you won’t let go. You won’t, until he listens. I made the mistake, don’t you dare take it out on him.

He let you hurt yourself!

We were almost there! So I turned back a little early because I was thinking too much – it’s not his fault!

He grumbles, a deep rumble that resonates through you. You still haven’t let go of his throat. He still should’ve protected you.

You couldn’t have done better, so shut up. It’s his brother who speaks – you see his muzzle lift, out of the corner of your eye. Your jaw clamps down a little more tightly as you feel the complaint about to be made, and it turns into a whine instead.

I’m sorry, I’m sorry, geez! Let me go already.

You’re not very sorry.

No.

You let go of his neck to snarl at him, batting his nose. He whines and bucks his brother off, flattening himself to the ground to look up at you. I’m never really gonna be sorry, so what’re you gonna do?

Kick you off the plateau. Surprise overshadows anger and you blink. Look down at your hands. Back to the flat fox, who had perked up at your transformation but shrinks back under your gaze. Maybe a little free fall–

Nooo. The blond jumps up, grabs your hands. His expression pleads as his words do. Mercy!

You frown at him, but the anger has ebbed away. You likely do not look as fierce as you wish. Maybe I won’t.

His face brightens. Bless you, oh sweet and merciful friend–

You’re not off the hook, you warn. We look out for each other and we don’t throw false accusations. Get along, you hear?

Yes, yes, yes, he mutters, yelping when you pinch his hands. Ow! I get it, I do! Stop looking at me like that!

Can I throw him off anyway?

Your lips twitch at the corners when you pick up the silver-haired man's murmur. Maybe later. Let’s look at the view first.

I want to help throw him off, you hear the brunet say, even as you rise and follow them to the edge of the cliff. I have grievances with him.

Get along, you remind as you pass by. You don’t look back, but you know the scowl he wears. It’s no secret that he doesn’t like the blond.

The grey-haired man offers his hand; you take it, stepping over small rocks to the edge of the plateau. You stop and squint – where did that mist come from? – trying to make out what lies beneath the veil.

Hands are on your shoulders, one pair, two – no, four. It’s almost unbearably warm – the heat of their bodies combined with the humidity. But you hear them whisper, and you think you might be able to bear it, if only for a few minutes.

See what we see.

And you do.

Your vision expands, taking in the larger picture. Lush emerald treetops, speckled with varying shades of green. Sunlight sparkling as it reflects off leaves, as it trickles between layers of densely packed branches. Oversized and overgrown foliage twist on and around each other; stretching to the sky, crawling across the ground. Scenes you do not dare to believe – thick vines, like the beanstalk of yore; crumbling architecture from civilizations long dead. So much, in so small a space.

You see how widely the forest reaches, the never-ending horizon of jade. You see the life buzzing in each tier of the jungle – birds soaring, insects fluttering between boughs, animals chittering as they clamber up and down. You gasp aloud as you dive, your vision taking in everything that the wild expanse has to offer. Shadows deep, highlighted by sharp spears of light. The wild breath of the forest – the aged spirits that dwell in each perennial, glittering in the edges of your vision, looking on curiously before they fade. So much life, so much coexistence; layers upon layers of sights and wonders, all bundled in one place.

And suddenly you are snapped back into your body, watching the mist clear from the canopy. Feel the weight on your shoulders lift as the hands pull back.

You exhale softly, wondrously. Wow.

Was it worth it? The voices of two, the duo who get to witness such sights all the time, they echo in your ears. You turn back to face them, smiling, smiling – hoping your amazement and gratitude and awe can be communicated in one gesture.

(But you think you know; nothing you say or do could be enough. How could it be, when there is no name for what you feel – this expanding joy?)

(It’s so much, too much.)

Yes, you say. In the end, it is all you can say. Yes, yes, yes.

You hold out your arms, but before you can move forward, you are swept up – caught around the waist, spun round and round, laughter echoing in your ears. Your own? His? You do not know.

You are set down; you have barely a second of reprieve before you are rushed – arms and bodies and a cocoon of sweltering heat as everyone joins the celebratory pile. What you are celebrating, you know not.

But still you laugh and laugh, giddy over the thought that everyone is here, enjoying this moment together. Witnessing the magnificent view together. Sharing this instance of pure bliss. Unending, unadulterated joy.

Perhaps then you open your eyes to meet cocoa, scrunched with adoration. Perhaps you lean in a little, brush your noses together, press your lips together lightly. A smile stretches across your face at how soft and sweet and heart-meltingly warm you feel.

And even after, you get tugged back to meet gold eyes, a pout under a blond fringe. Perhaps again, you give in, and lean in to extract a kiss there. Perhaps you feel him press harder, tugging at your lower lip, nibbling and teasing and begging for more.

Perhaps, perhaps, and maybe. Though there is so much more to explore, right now you’re drunk on happiness and the dizziness that comes with too much laughter. Caught up in the moment, like amber trapping fossils.

Perhaps after, there would be more outings to mimic this one; climbing ridiculously tall trees and vines, exploring other swathes of jungle; finding increasingly breath-taking views to see and share.

And of course: ever more moments to be experienced and treasured, as you make more memories with the people you care about.

A prickle across your back; your body complaining about the heat. You sigh a little.

Perhaps the day will always be too warm, but you know yourself.

You’d rather be warm than cold.

[ec-sanderssides]

Shadows Rise II

It’s done! So this is the fluffy chapter. (To make up for everything that will follow) The song for it is Feel Invincible by Skillet, and since it’s so long, I added another song for the second half, Watching for Comets, also by Skillet. Also @ace-anxiety-sanders @pointless-blog-name Anyway enjoy the fluff!

Part I

Roman wasn’t entirely sure how he’d made it back to base. He had a few vague memories of stumbling out of the museum, but that was it.

But he had made it, which was why he was now sitting wrapped in blankets, a cup of tea in his hand as Patton fussed. The empath kept checking him over for injuries, asking again and again, if Roman was sure he hadn’t taken a head wound. Meanwhile, Logan frowned at the two of them, another mug of hot tea in his hands.

Roman still hadn’t told them what had happened. He couldn’t bring himself to say it out loud. That would make it real. He didn’t want this to be real.

Continuing to ignore Patton’s concern, Roman closed his eyes, letting his head tip back in exhaustion. He could still remember when he’d met Virgil. They been so innocent then.

Roman had snuck out of the house. Sure his mom had grounded him, but he wanted to practice flying again. He was sure he’d figure out how to land properly this time!

He made his way into the woods, happily skipping past the trees. There was a large rock in the center of the woods, he could use that as a jumping off point.

But as he got closer though, he began hearing the sound of loud, taunting laughter. Furrowing his brow in concern, Roman began to creep along more stealthily. As he reached the edge of the clearing, he peered over the bush.

In the center, on top of the rock Roman had planned to jump from, there was bunch of older kids. As Roman stared at them puzzled, one of them moved, revealing a boy Roman’s age cowering in the center, dark tendrils flickering in and out aound him.

“Not so powerful are you now, freak,” one of the older kids spat, grabbing the boy by the collar and dangling him over the edge of the rock. “Think your stupid little shadows will save you now?”

Roman’s eyes grew wide. He had to do something! He only hoped that he’d be able to get high enough. He wasn’t that good at getting off the ground yet. But he shoved aside his doubt, and took a deep breath. He could do this.

Just as the bully began to let his grip slip, and the boy screamed, Roman took off running, taking an enormous leap…

And then he was flying!

Soaring determinedly upwards, Roman caught the boy. He immediately latched on to Roman’s neck, his hands scrabbling frantically. Roman had done it, he’d saved the day. Now came the hard part, landing.

But Roman had an idea. Instead of trying to land on the ground like he normally did, Roman let himself barrel into the kids on top of the rock. As he slammed into them in full force, Roman made sure to keep his arms carefully locked around the boy in his arms.

Once he’d stopped tumbling, Roman pushed himself up, and set down the boy behind him to glare at the bullies.

“Get out of here, you meanies!" he yelled, puffing up his chest.

The three stunned looking boys scrambled to their feet.

“Fine," one of them yelled, “You can be freaks together!”

With that they ran off. Roman watched them go before turning to the boy behind him.

“Are you alright?” he asked worriedly, kneeling down in front of him. “They didn’t hurt you did they? My name’s Roman, I’m eight, and I can fly, and I’m super strong. They said something about shadows, is that what was around you earlier? That’s so cool! Can you show me?”

Roman stopped his babble of words when he realized that the kid hadn’t responded yet, but was just staring at him with wide eyes.

“Are you okay?” he asked again, now even more concerned.

“I’m, I’m okay,” the kid finally stammered out. “Um, my name’s Virgil. I’ll be eight in four months, and I can sort of control shadows, I guess.”

“Can you show me?” Roman said excitedly.

Still looking hesitant, Virgil cupped his hands. A small ball of darkness formed within them, drifting upwards to create a small tendril that waved at Roman.

Roman felt his grin widen.

“That’s awesome!’ He gushed. “I’ve never met anyone else with powers before! But you’re just like me. Hey, we should become superheroes!”

“Really?” Virgil said, looking up at Roman with surprised awe

Roman nodded.

“Yeah, we just need cool names,” he said.

“You should be Prince,” Virgil piped up, before blushing a bit. “Because, well you were just like fairy tale prince when you saved me.”

“I love it!” Roman shouted, “What about you?”

Virgil frowned.

“I don’t know" he mumbled, “I can’t think of anything good.”

“That’s okay," Roman assured him. “We can figure it out later. let’s go practice!”

As Roman grabbed Virgil’s hand, he struggled to keep himself on the ground. Right now, with his new friend by his side, he felt like he could do anything.

Roman skidded around the corner. Valerie had told him that some kids had cornered Virgil out behind the theatre. Despite Roman protecting him as best he could, Virgil was still bit of a bully magnet. And there were a lot of bullies in middle school.

Roman could see Virgil ahead of him, his back up against a wall. He clenched his fists, prepared to dive in, but then-

“LEAVE ME ALONE!”

Darkness exploded out from Virgil, pushing back the bullies that surrounded him. One of them, the one that had been closest to Virgil, slammed against the opposite wall, falling to the ground unconscious. The other bullies now covered in scrapes and bruises, were quick to book it.

Normally Roman would go after them, make sure they really had learned their lesson, but his concern was with Virgil, who had dropped to his knees and was now staring at the unconscious bully in horror.

“Hey, Virgil” Roman said gently, putting one hand on his shoulder. “Virgil, you okay?”

“I didn’t mean to,” Virgil whispered. “I didn’t mean to, I just wanted them to go away, and I hurt him, and I didn’t mean to, and I’m sorry. And oh god, Roman what did I do?”

“You defended yourself,” Roman told him, dropping down to wrap his arms around Virgil.

“But I lost control!” Virgil protested. “Again! And this time I hurt someone, what if this happens again?”

Roman suppressed a frown. It was true, Virgil did have trouble controlling his powers. Over the last three years, Roman had gotten better with his powers, with only the occasional misjudged strength or bad landing. But Virgil frequently lost control, especially when he got emotional, shattering glass, ripping curtains, breaking plates, etc. So Virgil’s fear wasn’t that far-fetched.

But then Roman had an idea.

“We should go flying,” he declared.

Virgil’s expression changed from horror to confusion. “Wha-why? Roman, I hate heights.”

“And that’s why you should do it,” Roman nodded decisively.

“You’re insane,” Virgil hissed. “What if I lose control? What if I hurt you?”

“That’s the point,” Roman grinned at him. “You’re worried about losing control. Well this is my way of showing you that you don’t have to worry. Because if you can face your greatest fear and keep it together, you’re going to be fine.”

“And if I can’t?” Virgil said flatly. “If I can’t keep it together.”

Roman looked dead into Virgil’s eyes.

“I trust you,” he said firmly.

Virgil held the gaze for a few minutes more, before finally looking away, his cheeks red.

“Okay,” he said quietly. “I’ll try it. Just don’t drop me”

Roman struggled to keep a stupid grin off his face.

“I would never," he swore, holding out his arms. “Hop on.”

As Virgil hesitantly climbed into his arms, Roman felt as though his heart might burst, it was pounding so hard. And as they took off, with Virgil clinging even tighter to him, Roman fought to keep the blush off his cheeks.

“See,” he whispered softly, “Told you it’d be okay. We’re fine”

“Yeah,” Virgil mumbled, “I guess we are.”

Roman beamed. He was on top of the world.

Roman couldn’t stop pacing. Virgil would be here any minute. He paused to check his reflection in the mirror again. He had to look perfect.

Today was Roman’s sixteenth birthday. While he was having a big celebration on Sunday, he’d decided to spend his actual birthday with Virgil. They were going out on a picnic.

Roman had planned everything, from his wardrobe, to the food, to the location. Everything was in place. He could only hope that everything with Virgil would work out just as well.

Just then the doorbell rang. Roman sprang to open it. And sure enough it was Virgil waiting on his doorstep, a badly wrapped present in hand.

“Hey,” he drawled, thrusting the package forward. “Happy Birthday.”

“Thank you,” Roman smiled at him. “Here I’ll grab the picnic basket and we can head out.”

As he headed towards the kitchen, Virgil trailed after him, his hands shoved in his pockets.

“So where are we going anyway?” he asked.

“You know that big rock in the forest,” Roman said absent-mindedly, as he grabbed a few last minute items. “We’re going there.”

“Sounds good,” Virgil replied softly, “Sounds good."

When they finally arrived, Roman was quick so spread out the picnic blanket, and pull out the food.

“Wow,” Virgil said, eyeing the spread in disbelief. “You’re sure you’ve got enough food there?”

Roman rolled his eyes.

“I can always put the leftovers in the fridge,” he huffed. “Now come on, sit down,’ he whined, pulling at Virgil’s arm.

Chuckling a little, Virgil let himself be tugged, until Roman had him right by his side. Roman smiled at him, as he pulled the strawberries closer. So far, so good.

But as they were finishing their lunch and were preparing to pull out dessert, things started to go wrong.

“Oh come on,” Roman wailed up at the clouded sky, where rain was starting to come down. “On my birthday, really!”

“Here, I’ve got it,” Virgil said, reaching out his hands. A wave of black spread out from them, forming a perfect dome, keeping the two of them dry.

Virgil let his hands drop.

“That should hold for at least an hour,” he said turning towards Roman, “Sorry it’s not as what you were looking forward to though.”

Roman shook his head, his eyes filled with awe.

“No, it’s perfect,” he said. "It’s amazing. You’re amazing.”

Virgil snorted. “Yeah, sure.”

“No, you are,” Roman said seriously, clasping one of Virgil’s hands in his. “You really, really are. You are so amazing. For as long as we’ve known each other, you’ve made me feel like no one else has. Like I was invincible, that I could do anything, even become as superhero like we joked about when were kids.”

“God, Princey,” Virgil whispered, but Roman held up a finger. “No, just let me finish first,” he said before taking a deep breathe. Here went nothing.  

"I may have been the one to save you when we first met, but Virgil, you are my hero. You make me feel brave, and strong, and confident. And that’s why I’m hoping that I’m not making some huge mistake right now-“

“It’s not. You’re not.” Virgil blurted out, cutting Roman off.

“Really?” Roman managed to say, desperately hoping this wasn’t a dream.

Virgil laughed, the sound a little wet.

“Just shut up and kiss me.”

Roman was more than happy to comply.

Roman was staring at the ceiling of his dorm room, pointedly avoiding thinking about homework. He glanced over at Virgil, who was playing on his phone. They had been in college for a month, and so far it was good. Luckily they had both fallen in love with the same one. Beyetou University had a great theatre program for Roman, and well, Virgil had mentioned the financial aide, but not his major.

Roman rolled over and started him

“So what do you want to do?” He blurted out.

“Crawl into the shadows and never come out. It’s easier than linear algebra,” Virgil replied without missing a beat, glancing up from his phone.

“Why are you taking that again?” Roman asked, legitimately curious.

“I needed it for Gen. Ed. credit, and I wanted to get math out of the way before I forgot everything from high school,” Virgil admitted. “But since I forgot when my registration time was, all the other math classes were full.”

“Oh, that makes sense,” Roman hummed. “But seriously, what do you want to do? Like major-wise? I’m, of course, going into theatre.”

“Yeah, no duh,” Virgil snorted, "You’ve only wanted to since forever. But I don’t know, I’m not really good at anything.”

“Ok, that’s a lie.” Roman said indignantly, "You’re good at lots of things. Come on, there must be something you’re interested in, something you want.”

“Well, I guess… “ Virgil trailed off, ducking his head. "No, it’s stupid.”

“Tell me” Roman said, sitting up.

“It’s just,” Virgil began slowly, "I’d just really like to leave my mark on the world, but in a good way. Be remembered for more than just hurting people.”

Roman could feel his heart melting. This boy. He smiled at Virgil, before pulling him into a kiss.

When they finally broke for air, he said with a wink and a grin, “Well maybe we’ll both end up being superheroes like we said when we were kids.”

Virgil snorted, flopping back on the bed.

“Yeah right, Princey, that’ll happen.” he drawled,  "You’re so full of it”

“That’s what she said,” Roman replied teasingly, wiggling his eyebrows.

Virgil glared at him. “I will smother you with this pillow,” he threatened. “Shut up!”

“Make me,” Roman replied smugly, laughing as Virgil lunged at him.

The two wrestled for a minute, before Virgil finally managed to pin Roman down. Roman could only grin at him in response, not at all sore about losing.

“You know I love you,” he said suddenly, letting his voice fill with the awe he always felt.

Virgil turned beet red, looking away.

“Yeah I love you too, you dork,” he muttered, before leaning down to press his lips to Roman. Roman smiled into the kiss. He had the best boyfriend.

“Virgil?” Roman called out quietly, knocking on the door. “Come on, open up.”

“Go away,” came the muffled shout.

Roman sighed. “I’m not going anywhere,” he said firmly. “And I will break the lock if I have to.”

There was a pause, and then the door swung open revealing red-eyed Virgil.

“You should just stay away from me,” he muttered, trying to scrub the remains of tears off his face.

“Now you’re just talking nonsense,” Roman said shaking his head, reaching his arms out to pull Virgil into a hug. “It wasn’t your fault.”

Virgil just laughed bitterly.

“Really?” he muttered sarcastically into Roman’s shoulder. “Because it sure seems like it. I’m the one who couldn’t keep my cool. Couldn’t keep my power in check. I’m the one who hurt that guy.”

“He was harassing you,” Roman said, “You were scared, it’s understandable.”

“When I was 11 maybe,” Virgil said, pulling back. “But I turn 21 in a week! I shouldn’t be having these problems anymore. I just keep on hurting people!”

“Virgil..”

“No, Roman, I’m serious” Virgil said, his voice cracking in distress. “What if there’s something wrong with me? What if this is the only thing I ever do, the only thing I’m ever good at?”

“That’s a lie,” Roman broke in. “You are so much more than this. So much more than your powers even. I love you, Virgil, so just trust me when I say, everything will be all right. You will be alright.”

Virgil just looked at floor. Roman stepped close once more, taking Virgil’s hands in his.

“Please,” he said gently, “For me?”

Virgil leaned into Roman, hiding his face.

“I want to believe you,” he whispered.

Roman let his arms come up around Virgil.

“You know what you need,” he said, hooking his chin over Virgil’s shoulder. “You need to go flying.”

“Really?” Virgil said, a half-heartedly joking tone in his voice. “You sure you still trust me?”

“Always,” Roman replied. “Always.”

This may not have been my best idea, Roman thought nervously, as he tried to fly even faster. At the very least, I wish I hadn’t flown out over the ocean.

While flying was normally a great way to show Virgil how much control he really did have over his powers, and thus a good way to cheer him up, Roman had neglected to check the weather before they’d gone out. A storm had blown in fast, and now they were surrounded by dark clouds.

Roman squinted ahead of him, trying to see through the rain. Were they near land? He could feel Virgil shivering in his arms, they had to get out of the storm.

But then bolt of lightning cracked right next to them, blinding Roman and startling Virgil. As Roman veered sideways, blinking frantically trying to get his vision back, another strong gust of wind hit them, leaving him spinning uncontrollably, no longer sure of anything.

It was then he felt it. Virgil’s grip began to slip.

Desperately, he tried to hold on to the other, but the rain water had left his skin too slick, and Virgil slipped through his fingers, screaming as he fell.

Immediately, he dived, trying to catch Virgil before he hit the ground, but he still couldn’t see!

“Virgil!” he called out, feeling terror began to rise as he plunged downwards. “Virgil, please!”

He listened as hard as he could, trying to hear a reply, but it was no good. Even Virgil’s earlier screams had already faded away. Heart pounding, he tried again. This couldn’t be happening

“Virgil!” he screamed. Please, please let him answer. “VIRGIL!”

But it was too late. He was gone.

Roman re-opened his eyes. He had searched for days on end, trying to at least find Virgil’s body, but he hadn’t succeeded. In the end, they’d been forced to hold the funeral with an empty casket.

But Virgil hadn’t died. He had survived somehow, had found his way back, a miracle that would have thrilled Roman under any other circumstances. But like this? As the monster Virgil had always been terrified of becoming?

Roman couldn’t even begin to guess what had happened to make him that way, but he was sure of one thing. This was his fault. Everything that had happened to Virgil in the last five years was because of him.

He let out a shaky breath, trying to hold back tears.

He would never forgive himself for letting Virgil fall.

[roguephenon]

(you want the other 3/5s of this fic? So do I)

Two figures darted between bushes, one moving with grace and precision while the other recklessly rolled from one shrub to the other.

The moon hung high in the night sky as the two journeyed through the backwoods leading towards Gallagher Elementary. As they breached the tree-line, they found their progress halted by a looming chain-link fence. After sizing up its height, the taller of the two figures soared up and over the obstacle.

Abby stuck an unnecessarily stylish three-point-landing, because KND operatives should always look cool, and her eyes slowly grazed over the playground for any signs of danger.

The girl rose as a shovel clattered down beside her. With a heavy sigh, she said, “How do I get herself into these messes?”

“Tell me about it,” a voice from above said. Abby diverted her gaze upwards just in time to see Wally struggling to pull a second shovel over the fence. “I ask myself that all the time.”

“Gee, wonder why?” Abby quietly snipped as her hand snapped out the catch the falling shovel. “C’mon, man, Numbuh 5 could be catching some z’s right now.”

“Would ya quit saying that? Ya can sleep later-WHOA!”

Abby sidestepped as Wally came tumbling down, landing face first in the dirt. He peeled himself off the ground with a groan, then shot a glare up to his companion. “Why didn’t you catch me?”

“’Cuz you woke Numbuh 5 up at 2AM in the morning to dig up your time capsule,” Abby flatly said, using her free hand to flick a spec of dirt from his hoodie. “So that makes us even.”

Wally grumbled under his breath as he picked up his shovel, stomping off further into the playground mumbling obscure things about cruddy girls and their need for beauty sleep. Abby rolled her eyes, but ignored his rantings as she followed close behind.

The two members of sector V strolled through the empty lot of Gallagher’s playground, the slides and swing-sets eerily still and neglected during the late hours. But as tempting as the prospect of scaling the monkey-bars was, there were much direr matters to attend to before dawn. Or at least, that’s how Wally decided to phrase it.

“Only you would wanna dig up a time capsule not even eight hours after you buried it,” Abby complained as she stretched out her arms with an accompanied yawn. “You realize that defeats the whole purpose of the thing, right?”

“S’not my fault I was dis-informed!” the small boy argued. “I wouldn’t have put my stuff in there if I knew I wouldn’t get to dig it back up later.”

“Guessing the part where Ms. Thompson said we were sharing our history with future generations flew over your head, huh?”

“How was I supposed to know a generation is a really, really long time? I thought it was, like, two Tuesdays from now or something.”

Abby yawned. “You’re only off a few kazillion Tuesdays.”

Wally huffed and kicked a stray pebble. The boy began hugging his shovel defensively to his chest and adopted a frustrated pout as he trudged along.

“Stop being all mopey. Numbuh 5 got out of bed to help, didn’t she?” Sensing his agitation, Abby began to gently ruffle his hair. After a few strokes, she retracted her hand, Wally absentmindedly running his own through his hair at the loss of her touch. “’Sides, it gives Numbuh 5 the chance to dig hers up too.”

Wally smugly smirked. “See? Now you’re getting the idea. Why should future people get their grubby hands on my stuff? It’s mine, not theirs!”

“Something tells me Ms. Thompson wouldn’t see that way if she found out you dug out your capsule.”

“Ah, she won’t find out. Even if she does, I came prepared,” he said as he dug around in his hoodie pocket and presented his masterpiece to his friend. “I’m gonna replace my stuff with this baby. Ain’t she a beaut?”

Abby blinked. “That’s a brick.”

“Well, it’ll be the future, so they probably won’t have bricks anymore. It’ll give ‘em a chance to appreciate the finer things in life,” he said haughtily as he pocketed his brick. “Besides, ain’t no way I’m risking some loser slobbering over my Yipper cards.”

Abby responded with another yawn. The girl rubbed her eye and smacked her lips as she was only reminded of her drowsiness. “Yeah, Yipper cards are totally worth dragging me outta bed in the middle of the night.”

“Really? Cool! Thought you were gonna be mad about that,” Wally said with a smile, oblivious the girl face-palm behind him. After a moment, his curiosity nagged at him until he looked over his shoulder to ask, “Say, what are you getting back from your capsule?”

“Numbuh 5 ain’t getting back her capsule,” Abby answered. Her head dipped forward slightly, the rim of her cap veiling her eyes, and after a few moments, she quickly added, “She just thinks she probably put too much in there and wants to lighten the load.”

“How’s that any different from what I wanna—”

Abby paused mid-step to see Wally face-plant into the ground. Again. “Tonight just ain’t your night is it, sport?”

Wally slowly rose, a collection of dirt and grass spilling from his mouth. He closed his eyes, took a deep calming breath, and simply marched on as if nothing happened.

Or he would have had he not fallen yet again after a few long strides.

Abby rose a brow in concern as he walked closer to Wally. “Numbuh 4, did you forgot how to walk—oh!”

The girl quickly jabbed her shovel into the ground and used it as support to keep from falling herself. As she regained her bearings, she finally looked down to see just what was obstructing their walk. She squinted her eyes as she looked around, and as her vision adjusted under the moonlight, she only became more confused.

“Numbuh 5, look!”

At Wally’s shout, she gazed up to see what he was fussing over. The boy was still on the ground, but that’s not what had captured her attention. No, Wally’s little mishap had taken a backseat to the field of holes scattered about the back-lot of the playground.

Abby scratched underneath her hat. “Where’d all these holes come from?”

“Wait a minute, I know where we are,” Wally spoke up, his fists clenching the grass as a low rumble erupted from his throat. “This is where we buried our capsules!”

Abby was about to respond, but held her tongue when Wally gasped. He quickly scrambled to his feet and broke towards the left, tripping and fumbling all the while. But the boy endured his many pit-falls—literally—and trekked on until he stopped at the tree stump off to the side.

Wally frantically looked around the stump, fretting over it until he spotted a mound of dirt. He rounded the stomp and raised his shovel only to drop it with a cry of despair.

“No!” he wailed into the night as he pointed down at the hole. “It’s gone! Someone made off with my time capsule!”

“Someone made off with all the capsules, Numbuh 4,” Abby felt the need to say as she finished her assessment of the area. After a quick count, she could confirm the number of holes matched the number of kids in their class. “Who the heck would steal time capsules?”

“Oh, I know who,” Wally growled as he pounded his fists together. “It was Muffy Jenkins!”

“Numbuh 4, you can’t blame everything that happens to you at school on Muffy Jenkins.”

“Sure I can. She has it out for me, I tell ya!”

“Even if that were true—”

Wally rose a finger.

“Which it ain’t!

Wally retracted his finger.

“—that still don’t explain why she would take the rest of ‘em.”

Wally shuffled in his shoes, face crinkling in thought as Abby poked through his logic.

Darn it, she was good it at that. “Well, uh, maybe she did it to cover her tracks?”

“Sure,” Abby said slowly. She crossed her arms as she he analyzed the hole again. “Don’t look like we’ll find out anytime soon. Ain’t no telling how long it’s been since they dug ‘em all up.”

“Move aside,” Wally said as he folded up his sleeves. Abby watched curiously as the boy bent over, scooping up a pile of dirt in his hand and wiggling it between his fingers. He leaned in close to scrutinize the hole before dragging his finger across the ground.

Before Abby could ask what he was doing, she made a gagging noise as Wally plucked his finger in his mouth. His eyes trailed upwards in deep thought as his tongue swirled around his finger. His survey done, his finger freed itself with a plop and he let the corners of his lips edge up into a smirk.

“They were just here,” he said as a devious light flickered in his eyes, “so that means they’ve gotta be lurking around somewhere close.”

Abby eyed Wally with a heavy dose of skepticism. “And you can tell all that by the dirt?”

Wally stared straight into her eyes and said, “I know my dirt.”

“…Ok.” She then stroked her chin. “Mr. Frybingle’s homeroom buried capsules today too. Should be on the other side of the playground.”

“Then what are we waiting for?” Wally bent over to adorn his shovel and waved it around menacingly. “Let’s get my capsule back from that no good thief!”

Abby slowly arched a brow at his proclamation.

“And everyone else’s too,” he added begrudgingly. He then shook his head before bolting off across the lot, Abby quickly running after him.

It didn’t take them long to navigate to the other side of the playground. After a quick short-cut through the swing-set, the two arrived at their destination.

Abby and Wally took cover behind the slide, poking their heads out to search for the culprit. It wasn’t long before Wally nudged Abby and excitedly pointed over to a barren plot of land near the back fence.

Off in the distance was a stranger with their back to the kids. Whomever it was dressed in a plain robe, their face tucked away inside its hood. They were currently digging into the ground, stopping to scoop up a time capsule.

“There’s our thief,” Abby whispered as she watched the stranger deposit the capsule in his sack. She waited until he moved on to dig another hole before looking down at Wally. “They haven’t spotted us yet, so let’s take it nice and easy—”

“GIVE ME BACK MY TIME CAPSULE YA DIRTY, ROTTEN, TIME CAPSULE-STEALING STEALER-ER!”

Abby simply stared at the spot Wally used to occupy.

The culprit, for his part, was simply minding his own business as he hummed a little tune. Just as he started to unearth another capsule, he heard a rather boisterous commotion coming from behind him. Wondering who would be out so late—other than himself—he turned around to see what was going on.

He was greeted to the sight of an angry little boy charging towards him swinging a shovel.

Needless to say, he ran.

Wally let loose an infuriated scream as thief scurried off into the tree-line and the boy hurried after him. After the initial shock of the situation faded, Abby banged her head against the slide and kicked off after Wally before he did anything foolish.

And considering that this was Wally, she would give him a generous three minutes.

“GET YOUR CRUDDY BUTT BACK HERE!”

Two minutes.

[leighkhoopes]

The first big meme of 2017 has arrived and it's List the Top 10 Albums That Influenced You As A Teenager. This was an almost impossible selection for me, so I gave myself some additional ground rules: these albums all came out when I was an actual teenager (13-19, to be precise) and I promptly wore them out something serious. These are also albums that I continue to listen to and enjoy to this day. I also took the *complete* album into consideration—almost all of these are total listen-throughs for me, even though there may be some other songs and singles that had more of an impact on my impressionable teenage brain. 

 So, here's the list, how old I was when they came out, and some thoughts, in no particular order: 

Sleater-Kinney - One Beat (2002) I was: 17, in between high school and college This was the first SK album I ever bought, and I'm not ashamed to admit that. It was on one of those listening stations at the local music store (RIP ear-x-tacy) and the opener with its urgent drums, spindly guitars and fantastic vocals and harmonies drew me in immediately. Apparently One Beat was their "political" album and that makes sense, but the infectiously jangly "Oh!" remains one of my all-time favorite songs to this day, and though I've listened to the rest of their catalogue, One Beat remains my favorite to this day. 

Christina Aguilera - Stripped (2002) I was: 18, college freshman Fun fact: I was one of those angsty teens who mocked pop music while hiding my secret shame at loving every bubblegum beat and boy band dance jam. When you're a teenager, you have to keep up appearances—I knew I wasn't one of the popular types, so I tried to be a "rock" kid and turned up my nose at what turned out to be some really great songs. My dear Ms. Aguilera changed all of that for me. I had already loved her first singles (You cannot deny "Genie in a Bottle," so don't even try) and her complete ownage of "Lady Marmalade" for the Moulin Rouge soundtrack, so when Stripped came out in all its sexual and bold yet vulnerable and honest glory, I found the soundtrack to the twilight of my teenage years. Everyone knows about "Dirrty," "Beautiful," "Can't Hold Us Down," and "Fighter," but have you heard the soft sensuality of "Lovin' Me for Me"? What about the deep piano soul of "Underappreciated"? This album is packed with both gems and jams, and remains relevant to this very day.

Eve - Scorpion (2001) I was: 16, high school junior I came late to the rap game, since I wasn’t allowed to buy CDs with parental advisory stickers until my senior year of high school, so I've made a lot of progress, but I didn't get the kind of hip-hop education most of my friends have besides what made it onto the radio at the time. This was post-Tupac/Biggie but pre-50 Cent, and the airwaves were mostly dominated by the aforementioned pop and its bad cousin pop-punk. So when Eve's basically flawless "Let Me Blow Ya Mind" featuring Gwen Stefani's damn near perfect hook and what I would learn is a quintessentially Dr. Dre beat dropped, all slinky and sexy and sassy, I was beyond obsessed. The rest of the album is on point, too: "Who's That Girl?" became an anthem for me because I could easily sing back "LEIGH's that girl!" (la la la-la, la la la-la); "Gangsta Bitch" was a sick collab with Trina and Da Brat; and "Got What You Need" is a great call-and-response banger courtesy of Swizz Beats and some other lesser Ruff Ryders rapper who is probably mad that Eve destroyed him on this track and probably in real life as well. 

The Kills - Keep on Your Mean Side (2003) I was: 19, college sophomore Somehow I got this CD for Christmas? I don’t remember how or where I heard about it, but this album for me is the perfect combination of sexy and scuzzy with raw guitars and sparse, swampy beats and endless, unbearable chemistry between VV (Allison Mosshart) and Hotel (Jamie Hince) that continues to this day. Fifteen years, four albums, and multiple side projects (and one very high-profile marriage and divorce) later, and I am one of those fans who firmly stans for them to live happily ever after in musical harmony and continuing rock n’ roll cuteness. They’re just SO PERFECT TOGETHER, OKAY? Anyway, this album is great, and you should listen to it if you haven’t already.

Yeah Yeah Yeahs (2001) I was: 16, soon-to-be high school senior If I had to pick ONE album that was the most influential to me of all of these, it would be Yeah Yeah Yeahs’ seminal self-titled EP. It dropped right before my senior year of high school, when I was finally starting to figure myself out a little bit and realizing that I liked loud music by loud ladies that I could dance to and scream along to, regardless of genre or format. The Strokes, The Hives, The White Stripes, and all their ilk were kicking off a new rock revolution, but there were so few ladies out there making as much noise as I needed them to. Karen O was not a great singer, but the way she whispered and groaned and wailed over the wall of sound that Nick and Brian created with just a guitar and a drumset was revelatory to me, especially after I got to see them live a few years later, smushed up against the stage at the Southgate House and rapt as the speakers pounded in my chest and Karen sprayed beer and spit on all of us, and she leaned down at the beginning of “Our Time” at the end of their set, when I was exhausted and enthralled, put the mic in front my face and together we crooned “To break on through-ooh!” YYYs continued to put out some great music and evolve their sound not-so-greatly in the following years (sorry, y’all, but Mosquito was not good), but nothing seared itself so firmly on my psyche as Karen and me covered in sweat, singing what should have been an anthem for the pre-1990 Millennials: “It’s the year to be hated / so glad that we made it.” If that doesn’t sum up everything everyone’s ever said about those of us born between 1980 and 1999, I don’t know what does.

Daft Punk - Discovery (2001) I was: 16, high school junior If there’s another album I had to name as one of my top all-timers, completely different but still equally influential, it’s Daft Punk’s Discovery. Daft Punk allowed me to embrace my love of dance and electronic music, and built a perfect unifying force among me and my friends, providing that anthem we’d been waiting for with “One More Time,” a song that still fills me with joy every time those first few beats fade in and I can’t help but smile when it drops and that surprisingly, beautifully warm vocoder voice comes in over the spaces between. The rest of the album is literally iconic as well, and really cemented Daft Punk as the arbiters of dance parties for everyone, all-inclusive, delirious and endlessly entertaining and ultimately joyful.

Le Tigre (1999) I was: 15, high school sophomore I’ll admit it: I missed the Riot Grrl movement by several years, so Kathleen Hanna and Le Tigre were a new experience for me. I loved the edge and the anger in her voice, the fuzzy throwback sound and sampling that made it seem like something I could do if I just tried harder and wasn’t so shy and scared to raise a ruckus and my voice. One thing I’ve noticed about so many of these albums and groups is that I really liked stripped-down music with big sounds created by small groups of people: duos and trios make up the bulk of my favorite albums during this era. I got to see them live as well, when JD Sampson joined the lineup and became my introduction to confusingly, distractingly sexy nonbinary people, and it was at the height of the Bush era, in the middle of my college years, and while I didn’t feel the exhilaration of singing with Karen O, I felt the freedom of dancing my ass off and screaming until my lungs my ached, unafraid of who I might bump into with my unruly booty, unafraid of who I might offend with my burgeoning baby feminism. I was sad when they stopped recording and disappointed at their recent lackluster Hillary Clinton track near the end of the election cycle, but I’ve loved the resurgence of The Julie Ruin and the ongoing reinvention and determination Hanna continues to project in the face of so much bullshittery that permeates our world and culture today. 

The Mars Volta - De-Loused in the Comatorium (2003) I was: 19, college sophomore At the Drive-In was another band I missed out on the first time around, but The Mars Volta popped up in my circles of smartass potheads once I started to find my tiny tribe of people in the rural Kentucky college town in which I lived for four years. I’ve always loved a man unafraid to belt out an anthem, and Cedric Bixler-Zavala golden throat soared over Omar Rodruigez-Lopez’s prog-rock symphonies and movements, and it sounded just as good when I was stone cold sober as when I was self-medicating in the name of social acceptance and anxiety avoidance. I will forever associate them with giant spliffs and endless laughter, letting the discordant sounds wash over me and and Cedric’s voice burn through me, as well as making myself a zombie prom queen Halloween costume under a waxing moon after a bad breakup, working some kind of dark magic to transform myself into someone no one would recognize, even if only for a night. There was always a sadness that permeated these songs, something that got lost in their later, more esoteric albums I could never get into, and there was something on this album that made me feel okay with being sad, allowing myself to feel my feelings that I tried to keep hidden for far too long.

Ludacris - Back for the First Time (2000) I was: 16, high school junior Again, the most rap I had ever really listened to before high school was MC Hammer and Will Smith’s squeaky clean radio-rap, so Luda’s debut was a major eye-opener for overly-sheltered white suburban me. "What's Your Fantasy" and "Phat Rabbit" were titillating, sure, but also fantastic rhymes and beats, and "Stick 'Em Up Bitch" and "1st & 10" were darkly hilarious under their gangsta veneers. "Southern Hospitality" brought bravado to what could have just been another Neptunes beat, and throughout it all, Luda's flow was so sick and smooth, so full of wit and wordplay and unashamed sexuality, and I loved to blare it driving through my parents’ neighborhood, even after the speakers in my car blew out and sounded like nothing but surly vibrations as I dawdled on my way home for my 11pm curfew. If I had to come in at what I considered an unfair, oppressive time, I was going to wake up everyone else in the process. Yes, I was a not-so-secret dick when I was a teenager–weren’t we all? Side note: I'm kind of sad Shawnna never made it all that big, and this video is the absolute perfect time capsule of the year 2000.

Peaches - The Teaches of Peaches (2000) I was: 16, high school senior I’ll also admit this: I fucking loved “electroclash.” That amalgamation of punk and dance music was everything to me, the perfect blend of rock guitars and big beats that enmeshed everything teenage me loved about being loud and dancing like everyone was watching and not giving a fuck either way. Peaches was gross and vulgar and rapped about sex with no emotion but pleasure, and she got even dirtier as the years went on, but The Teaches of Peaches was seminal and shocking and just the kind of thing a slightly crazed and endlessly awkward, horny teenage girl needed to hear to start embracing my own weird sexuality and rampaging hormones and confused feelings, instead of keeping them locked away and shameful like I was supposed to. Everyone knows and loves "Fuck the Pain Away," thanks to its cameo appearances in Lost in Translation and the Jackass movies, but "Lovertits" was always my personal favorite from this album. The moment that breakdown takes over is pure brilliance and one of my favorite moments in any song ever. Peaches dancing in front of the mirror in this video is teenage me, always and forever, singing to myself when no one was looking and finally finding away to sing to myself in public, out loud, and not caring who heard me. I'm still working on it, but I think these albums did a lot to push me in the direction I've gone and to get me where I am now as a feminist and a lover of music and dance parties for life.

Honorable Mentions: 

Beck - Midnite Vultures (1999)

No Doubt - Return of Saturn (2000)

Madonna - Ray of Light (1998)

The Strokes - Is This It (2001)

N.E.R.D. - In Search Of... (2001)