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magpiemorality · 4 years

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Of Princes and the Pure Of Heart

Fantasy AU. Prince!Kid!Roman & Woodsman!Adult!Virgil.

Part 1/3.

3750 words. Who wants some sweet family Sides being all found family vibes and making the hurt better again?? Anybody? Just me then!

Sometimes family is a loner in the woods; the young prince he rescues from near death; and a soppy dog.

Warnings: off-screen violence, death mention, near death experiences, angst, swearing.

AO3

***

Roman ran through the trees, breath ragged and hot in his throat, making his chest ache as he wheezed and kept going. His legs shook under him but he couldn’t stop he mustn’t stop he had to get away get away to safety-

It felt like he’d been running for hours by now, and he wasn’t even sure he was being chased anymore because he couldn’t hear anything over his gasping breaths and the rushing of his heartbeat pumping in his ears. The snow made it hard to move as he got further and further through the forest, but the way it fell hid his tracks so he couldn’t be ungrateful. It cooled his panic-hot body and cushioned his fall when he slipped over time and time again, but it also made him stand out like a sore thumb in his bright regalia, and highlighted the drop of red from his split lip in a way that made him feel ill and dizzy and captivated all at once, like he was looking at a rose bush in full bloom as he fell towards the thorns that awaited.

Time dragged on, the sounds all faded behind a rising static whine in his head that he was sure wasn’t actually there. And then, just as his legs crumbled for the last time, he saw it; through the trees there was a neatly stacked wood pile.

Someone had to be living nearby!

With all the energy and air he had left, Roman started to cry out, unable to get up or move beyond a very slow crawl towards the wood. He started to shiver after barely a minute, clothes soaking through and chilling him to the bone, but still he kept up his desperate, piercing call of “help!“

Closer and closer to the wood pile he got, until he was almost close enough to touch it. His cries had dwindled down to a thin, reedy wail, and the world around him seemed to be growing darker, darker…

And as his vision finally faded to black and his voice gave out with a feeble croak, Roman thought he imagined the sound of a dog barking. ***

Virgil wasn’t expecting to find a boy out in the snow, half frozen and unresponsive. Virgil wasn’t expecting to find anyone at all but he had, so now he had to just deal with it.

"Well pooch, guess we’ve got ourselves a foundling, eh?” He said to the dog sniffing at the boy’s hair, voice gruff from lack of use. There was no time to waste, not with the way the boy’s nose and lips were turning white and starting to tinge with blue, so he hefted him quickly up over his shoulder and made for the house.

The boy didn’t stir when he got him inside and laid him gently on the bed, and Virgil inwardly steeled himself for the worst. There were some things there was no coming back from, he knew, and the boy looked pretty badly off. But then the dog whined by his side, leaning forwards to snuffle over that pale face, and turned her big brown doe eyes on him as if pleading for him to help. “Fuck it,” he muttered, hurrying to stoke the fire up and silently offering an apology to the poor kid before dispensing with his wet clothes with a few careful cuts from his hunting knife. He grabbed as many blankets as he could to add to the ones on his bed- not that there were many left not already on it, this time of year- and stripped down to his thermals. It wasn’t quite skin to skin but it would do- if the boy was going to live then this ought to be more than enough.

“On the bed, pooch,” he clicked his fingers, bundling the ice-cold body into the nest with him and curling around the boy as tightly and completely as he could. It didn’t feel like enough, even with the weight and warmth of the dog on the other side to help out, so he sighed again and pulled his shirt over the kid’s head, tucking him close to his chest and rubbing his back gently to try and massage some life back into his bloodstream.

It was hard not to shiver with the frozen skin against his own, the ends of his snow-wet hair tickling his neck as they melted. At least the boy was breathing, and still limp and alive rather than stiff and dead. There was still hope.

Hope that took a real boost when only an hour later the boy started to wheeze softly, body easing out into a more restful unconsciousness that signified to a relieved Virgil that, although danger was undeniably still present, the threat of losing the boy to the cold had just lessened enough for him to relax. He dozed off soon after, lulled by the warmth and the oddly comforting weight of the body in his arms, wheezing steadily and softly on over the crackle of the fire. ***

It was growing dark when he woke, alerted by the shifting of the boy in his arms. Virgil looked down to see the boy staring up at him warily from his warm hidey-hole under Virgil’s shirt, eyes still a little foggy but focusing well enough.

The woodsman gave him a small nod and very deliberately didn’t move, letting the boy gather awareness and work out how he was going to react.

Not at all, it turned out, as the dark eyes blinked once, twice, heavily drooping until he was right back to sleeping. Virgil adjusted his grip a bit and settled in for a long wait, congratulating himself on a job well done. ***

When the boy next came round Virgil was mid-yawn. He felt him stiffen and start to tremble, not terribly surprised by the distress the boy felt on waking up in a stranger’s bed being rather firmly cuddled. It was enough to distress any right-thinking folk, really.

“Take a few breaths now, kid. You’re safe here, I don’t intend to harm you. There’d be no sense in saving your life just to undo all that hard work now, would there?” Virgil said in what he hoped was a low, comforting voice. “You’re in my house, how you got here is something I’d sore like to know, but you just concentrate on warming yourself up and feeling better now, y'hear me? Rest."

Apparently it was the right thing to say, because the boy relaxed against him and actually pressed closer in response. He did jump when the dog huffed behind him, but with a quiet word from Virgil explaining what it was he settled again.

***

The third time the boy woke up he seemed to be almost right as rain. He yawned and stretched, allowing Virgil to move a bit himself at last. It was mid-morning the day after he’d found him, and there was no sign of the lifelessness from the day before, nor the haze in his eyes. He still didn’t say a word or smile as he stared up at Virgil, but all things considered it was a resounding success.

The dog barked softly from the main room and they both looked over to see her sat in the doorway looking pitiful. The sight made the boy huff softly through his nose, a sound that was almost amusement. Virgil ruffled his hair carefully. "You gonna be okay here if I go feed her?” He asked, keeping his voice quiet and his tone calm so as not to spook the boy. He got a slow nod in reply and helped the boy untangle himself from his shirt, showing him a pile of clothes on the chair he could choose from to wear if he needed to- long sleeve shirts and sweaters and some thermal leggings and socks. He diverted that way himself to pull on an extra layer before braving the cold of the rest of the house.

The dog pranced around him as the food was being sorted, wolfing it down as soon as the bowl hit the floor. Virgil felt a tiny bit guilty because he hadn’t been able to feed her the night before, so he tossed her a bone as a treat to gnaw on while he went to sort out the fire. It was good to move around again, and his hand brushed the wood of the fireplace in apology for letting the cold seep into the bones of the house overnight. It would take a little while to heat everything up again, and it didn’t do anything any good to be changing temperature too much.

A creak from the direction of the bedroom had Virgil looking up in surprise. The boy stood there, braced heavily on the door frame, wrapped in a satisfactory amount of layers and trying to stay up on unsteady feet. Virgil clicked his tongue, holding back the scolding he wanted to give the boy for pushing himself too far too soon in favour of just getting up and helping him back to the bed, pushing him down with a firm hand. “Just you stay there now, kid. There’s no sense making yourself worse now you’re starting to feel better. No way you get through this without getting ill somehow, so we’re gonna try and make it as easy on you as we can, alright?"

The boy nodded, casting his eyes down. Virgil thought at first it was shame but the stubborn pout of his lips marked it as petulance instead, and he chuckled at the sight. "Yeah, yeah, I know. Big mean old Virgil, making you stay still and bored, right? You’ll thank me later, kid, trust me.” The woodsman stood up, stretching his back. His stomach rumbled abruptly, and he glanced at the boy at the reminder that yeah, food was a thing. “You eat soup? What am I saying, ‘course you eat soup. We’ll have some of what I’ve got leftover in the pot, should warm you up a bit more. Get some nourishment back in you to fight the chills."

Virgil took stock of the situation as he stood by the stove and waited for the soup to heat up. The boy had been very well dressed, and was in great health- near freezing to death aside. He wasn’t saying a damn word, which kinda sucked because Virgil hadn’t spoken this much in years, mostly by choice, and his throat was already beginning to hurt. Still, it did feel good to have someone in the house and Virgil was reminded how much he not-so-secretly enjoyed caring for others. Usually the dog was enough, but with the boy he suddenly felt warm and fuzzy in a much bigger way.

The boy, he was pleased to note, was sat up but bundled under the covers when he got back to the bedroom, and the dog was lying on the bed beside him enjoying some tentative pets. Both of them perked up when Virgil appeared with the food, and he snorted as he clicked the dog back onto the floor so he could sit with the boy and eat. There was a bowl of soup with some chunks of hearty bread, a few good bits of cheese and a cup of hot apple juice that he placed carefully on the table beside the bed.

It was interesting to see that the boy- rightfully and smartly- watched Virgil until he’d taken his first spoonful, before testing the flavour carefully and then digging in ravenously, finishing half the soup and bread in a truly stunningly short time while Virgil plodded along and kept a careful eye on him. He slowed down but kept nibbling, and finished every crumb and drop he’d been given before taking hold of the hot juice, cupping the mug in his hands close to his chest and breathing in the hot steam.

Quiet fell in the house, interrupted only by the occasional soft pops and crackles of the fire, and the sounds of three different sets of breathing. Virgil was loathe to push the boy into giving answers, and wasn’t entirely sure he wanted or needed them yet either, so he just silently took the bowls and went to wash up. The boy was dozing again when he returned to the bedroom, curled half sat up against the pillows, and the damn dog was back up on the bed sprawled out against his front, but Virgil didn’t have the heart to disturb them.

He went to collect bring more firewood in from the side of the house instead, and made himself comfortable on the couch for a bit, doing some woodcarving while he had the time.

The peace was shattered by the sound of movement outside, and Virgil crossed to look out the window. There were figures flitting through the trees, getting gradually closer. He heard the boy gasp in the bedroom and hurried in to him, catching him by the shoulders. "Tell me quickly, yes or no. Were you being followed?” The boy nodded quickly. Shit. “Do you want to go with them?” The boy shook his head emphatically. Double shit. Virgil raked a hand through his hair. “Okay last question. Do they want to hurt you?” The boy hesitated, eyes shining, and then he nodded one last time. Upgrade that shit to a full on fuck.

Flying into action, Virgil pressed a finger to his lips and waved for the boy to hide, and was pleased to see him quickly slip off the bed and underneath it out of sight as he himself hurried out into the main room to the window to keep an eye on the goings on outside. The noise outside resolved itself into shouts and the jangling of horse tack, and several men wearing black cloaks and scowls appeared from the trees and came toward the house.

Virgil cast a glance around and whistled for the dog, pleased to note it wasn’t possible to see there had been a second human inside recently. The two of them- no doubt three with the boy under the bed- flinched when there was a knock at the door, and a too-pleasant voice floated through.

“Hello? I’m with the Royal Guard, we’re looking for a… missing person. Can you open the door?” They called. Virgil steeled himself with a breath and grabbed the dog by the scruff, inwardly proud of how she growled as he opened the door to face the intruder.

“What do you want all the way out here?” Virgil asked before the man could say anything else. “Don’t even know about no royals. I keep an eye on my business and the world keeps away. S'how we like it."

The man’s expression was already starting to pinch. Good, Virgil thought. Go away. "Sorry to interrupt, unfortunately there’s been a disaster. The family were on holiday nearby and were attacked, we believe on the road before they arrived. We’re looking for their son, the Prince Roman. Have you seen-”

“Haven’t seen hair nor hide of nobody in weeks. It’s winter- people don’t pass this way, ‘less you count the wolves."

"Right, well.” The guard cleared his throat and attempted to keep his smile fixed. “There’s a reward, see, because we-”

“Reward?” Virgil made a show of squinting at him in interest. “A reward you say?"

"Yes and-”

“Damn, I’ll start lookin’ round a bit more in that case then, eh. Make a quick bit'a cash. Say, you need him alive?” The guard gave him a look of distaste, but he carried on. “Only, anyone running around out here in weather like this is only gonna last so long. Wanna know if it’s worth bringing you a body or not, see."

They stared at each other, and the guard finally gave up. "Yes, sure. Bring the body- we do need to know he’s been found. Well, thank you anyway. We shall keep on with our search."

Virgil nodded. "Best hurry back down the pass though, snowfall’s coming in soon. You’ll get trapped up here with nought but old me if you’re not careful,” he warned, satisfied to see the guard glance nervously at the sky.

“Very well. Good day,” he grimaced, hurrying back to his horse. Virgil watched them go, eyes narrowing as he counted them. He heard a movement in the bedroom but didn’t turn to look until they’d disappeared into the trees. He frowned and counted again, closing the door, and as he passed the bedroom he made sure to give a tiny shake of his head and click for the dog to stay by the door, hoping that would be enough.

For a solid five minutes Virgil puttered around, not doing much and definitely not talking to the boy, before at last there was a whisper of sound and another figure sped away from the house and off into the woods to follow their companions. “Sly bastards. You can come out now, get back into bed alright?” He called, setting the kettle on. He brought another mug of hot juice for the boy and sat on the bed while he sipped at it, big wary eyes watching him carefully. They sat in silence for a while, just looking at each other, before Virgil had to speak. “So you’re the Prince, huh?"

"A."

”… What?“ Virgil was doubly confused- firstly because the boy had just spoken, and secondly because what he’d said didn’t make much sense. ”'A’? A what?“

“A prince. Not the Prince,” came the whisper, and oh, yeah that would make sense. Virgil sucked in air through his teeth and leaned back.

“I see. But you are Prince Roman then, yeah?” The boy nodded. Guess that fuck was still firmly in effect then. ***

Roman was still not entirely sure how much he could trust this strange, gruff man. He looked nice enough, and he’d both saved and protected Roman in the last twenty-four hours, but since he knew Roman was a prince he’d been acting weird.

Roman was pretty sure the man was called Virgil, but there was some kind of comfort in not speaking, so he hadn’t managed to confirm that yet and was just resigned to sticking to thinking of him that way until given alternative proof. As if summoned Virgil poked his head into the bedroom again to check on him, and Roman scowled at him from where he was curled up, stroking the dog absently. Virgil disappeared again quickly, and Roman sighed. This wouldn’t do- who knew how long he’d have to stay here until he could get somewhere safer?

With a squaring of his shoulders Roman made his decision, and scrambled clumsily out of the bed and over to the door. He took a moment there to catch his breath, still weak from the fatigue and- damn the man for being right- impending sickness. Virgil noticed him almost immediately but Roman lifted a hand before the woodsman could scold him for being up. He struggled over to the couch Virgil was sat on and flopped down with an exhausted but satisfied huff, closing his eyes for a moment.

Just a moment…

When he woke from his unexpected doze disorientated, wondering what that nice feeling was and why he was waking up at all, there was a strange sound, that slowly resolved itself into- humming. Virgil was humming, and also stroking his hair, and it felt really nice and gentle and it reminded him of his father and-

“Oh, kid, it’s okay,” Virgil soothed, brushing his thumb under Roman’s eyes to wipe away the tears there. “It’s been a bit of a wild day or so for you, hasn’t it?” His voice was just so full of sympathy that Roman couldn’t stop himself from letting out a soft sob, opening his eyes to look at Virgil miserably, silently begging for something, anything, to make him feel better.

Thankfully Virgil seemed to understand, and he was swept up into strong arms and carried to the bedroom to the sound of Virgil’s constant stream of reassurances.

The bed was just as warm as ever when they got in, and Roman shamelessly stuck to Virgil’s side as the man got comfortable, snuffing the candles out and hugging Roman tightly while he cried.

“You let that out, kid. There’s no hurt in tears, not with what I’m willing to bet you’ve been through. Bet you’re missing your family huh?” He waited and Roman nodded with a morose sniff, burying his face in Virgil’s shirt and probably soaking it through, but the woodsman didn’t complain and only held him tighter. “Yeah, I get that. I wasn’t always the person living in this house either. I was once a, too. But that was long ago now.

"It’s not so bad, once you get used to it. It’s safe, and it’s peaceful, but it can be sad too. You’ll be sad for a while actually, kid, I’m sorry. But one day that’ll pass too and you’ll breathe easier again. I’ll keep you safe and warm while until you’re through with that bit, if you want to stay with me?

If you say no that’s okay too, remember. You might have to just stay until the snow melts on the passes though- it’s a bit too late to make the trip to the towns. I don’t know how you made it up here at all, but maybe one day you can tell me that story. If you stay.” Virgil groaned under his breath, probably worrying about his rambling incoherence, but Roman found himself hanging onto every word, clinging to them like little delicate spiderweb lifelines.

What else could he do? He had no family left, as far as he knew. He couldn’t run away because there was nowhere to go to that would be any safer than here. It would be just as risky going to a random village, except that at least here he had fairly good evidence that Virgil wasn’t going to hurt him or give him up for money. What else could a boy, a very recognisable Prince like Roman, do but stay safe where he was?

“Roman?” Virgil nudged him, feeling around Roman’s shoulders until he found his head and cupped the back of it with his warm, work-rough hand. Roman, still hiccuping with the tail end of tears, flung his arms around the man in the dark, squeezing him tight. “Woah, hey there. Is that a yes?”

“Yes,” Roman whispered. “I’d like to stay."

#writepie #ts roman #ts virgil #ts sanders sides #ts writing #ts sanders sides aus #ts sanders sides fic #sanders sides #prince roman #princey sanders #fantasy au #another one of those stories that just popped out fully formed #tw death #tw violence #tw angst #tw near death #roman sanders #virgil sanders

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cofeechocolates · 6 years

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Embers and Stars Chapter 3

tags: @acourtofme

Feyre sat in her room, poring over the designs she had planned for their new estate. It was mostly done. All that was left were a few finishing touches. It was turning out to be beautiful, mostly thanks to all the help Ressina had provided. She was a really nice co-worker and more than that a good friend.

Feyre stretched her legs and arms on the chair and got up. She had planned on going out to the studio.The time she spent at the art classes was now reduced since they had found more teachers and she was busy designing or helping with the court work, but Feyre still liked to go help whenever she found the time.

The classes had helped lots to recover from their trauma. Some were still coping with it and some just couldn't. Some she had realized, found it easier to simply just talk. To those, she would sit patiently for hours sometimes listening and comforting. She knew they wouldn't be the same but rather different. The war would be marked in each them. It was vital to ensure that they come out as better people and not let the war make a monster of them.

She grabbed her thin, black coat and set outside. The harsh cold had started to turn into a slight chill so she opted to fly instead of walking. The breeze would serve her some practice of fling with illyrian wings in the cold. She could barely tolerate being a second out in the snow with her wings, but this kind of breeze she should be able to manage. She lifted off the ground and one flap was all she could handle before the wind hit her sensitive wings that sent shivers through her. Except she was adamant on her decision. If the guys were able to do it , then she should too. It was unacceptable for her to give up. So she flew all the way to the studio.

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

Feyre was barely able to land. She was wrecked. Though, she didn't regret flying up here. It was fun if it weren't for the shivers passing through her right now. Shifting back without the wings, she entered the studio when Rhys's purred through the bond I'm impressed you know

She blushed slightly but shot back I know I'm better than you Illyrian babies

His laughter boomed through their bond, making her toes curl.

Where are you? She asked.

In a meeting. It's boring really, I can't stop thinking about you.

A small smile bloomed on her face but she quickly concealed it lest Ressina start teasing her again.

You can wait till this evening She replied although she reciprocated his feelings.

Azriel and Cassian are coming over he said.

Feyre felt happy at that. What about Mor?

She said she would come tomorrow to visit and be on her way.

She didn't want to show her disappointment at that. She understood why Mor wanted to go but she still wished she would stay.

Amren?

She said she had better things to do than hang out with a bunch of idiots. But I'm sure she'll be here.

How?

I have my ways.

Feyre rolled her eyes. Thought Rhys couldn't see her, she was sure he knew she made the gesture because he sent an image of him sticking his tongue out.

She laughed quietly and said you'll get in trouble if they know your not paying attention.

And just when Rhys was about to make a retort, she shut the bond and smiled to herself.

She walked further into the studio where the painting was being done to find Ressina and Livia- one of the newer faerie teachers that had joined. She assisted the students in sculpting. She gave both of them a small smile and a nod of acknowledgement. A few of the faerie who had been coming since the beginning waved at her and greeted her . She greeted them back. She looked around the studio and set to help a kid when she saw he was having trouble holding his brush. It was just too long and thick to fit in his tiny hands. So she went through the supply of paintbrushes they had - most of them brought in by her and Ressina, while others were donated - to find the right size and it was harder than it should be to find the right size. Finally after five whole minutes of rummaging through all the supplies, she still hadn't found the right one but it was close enough and should work well. She went approached the boy while making a mental note to stock up on more supplies suitable for little kids.

He looked up at her. He couldn't have been more than four years old. He had violet eyes that looked so like her mates but he wasn't high fae she could tell from skin that glimmered like a fishes but absent of any scaly texture. He had an ethereal beauty to him even amongst the faerie and fae.

Feyre handed him the brush telling him how the one in his hands was too big for him. He nodded obediently, understanding and took the smaller one. Feyre knelt down next to him teaching him how he was supposed to hold a brush and how much water he should add in the paints. He listened keenly and learnt fast. Once she thought he had gotten hang of it, she left to look at others but came back once in a while to check on his progress. The final picture was of what looked like a small pond in the middle of a forest. The detail he had added was amazing. Though the picture in itself was consisting of blots of paint in different shapes, you could see that he had painted everything from the large trees to the small pebbles around the pond. He was very gifted there was no doubt in that. With the right amount of practice and guidance he could become one of the most talented artists in Velaris.

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

By the time she decided to go home, Feyre was exhausted. There was a particularly naughty kid who kept making a mess. Just thinking about him made her head ache.

You better get used to it Rhys said.

She blushed a deep red. Bastard

She had let her guard down as soon as soon as she had left the studio. She didn't stop cursing at him all the time it took for her to walk home.

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

Rhys couldn't stop laughing. He was rolling on the floor in their town house. He knew Feyre was probably a minute away from here and if he didn't stop he was going to get in big trouble but he couldn't stop himself.

Like he'd guessed, he heard the door creak open after two minutes. He had successfully managed to school his face neutral. His mate's face was red - either from the cold outside or from what he had said earlier. She removed her coat and threw it on him but Rhysand easily dodged it. She pointedly ignored him while going to the bathroom to take a bath. He followed her to their room and closed the door behind him.

"Feyre darling", he said "I'm sorry for laughing ".

She glared at him and he wrapped his arms around her.

"Ass kisser" she murmured.

"Only yours" he said kissing her deeply.

He was disappointed when she broke it saying she needed to get a bath. He had suggested he go with her but she had reminded him that Azriel and Cassian were coming and he should be there since Elain had gone out with Naula and Cereddwin.

Forty minutes later the house was a chaos, Feyre had come out dressed up to find that everything in the house was scattered around. She had no idea how it had started but the guys were in fight. It had resumed all for two seconds when she had shouted at them. And somehow, later Feyre was also in it. Cassian had broken one of the oldest bottles which he was going to die for when they heard Mor shout. None of them had heard her come in it seemed, since everyone went still. Feyre looked at her once and immediately sensed something was wrong. She took a step towards Mor and asked what was wrong.

Mor quickly explained everything and showed them what she saw. A high fae and another she had said. And a dark hole probably a portal of sort. Feyre decided she and Rhys should go check it out while Cassian and Azriel remained here. She could see the protests that were about to come from the two of them but she gave them a look that dared them to say anything and they yielded however still pissed.She told Mor to take them there and she did as commanded.

A few heartbeats later, the three of them were standing at the place. Feyre sent out a tendril of her power to scan the place for any traces of power but she got nothing. Rhys went next. He sent more then she had almost thrice and said," I can sense it. Although it's very vague almost as if it's trying to conceal itself. It's dark almost if not more as dark as the cauldron's. But it isnt coming from the two.", he said. "It's only the surroundings.I'd say they seem pretty harmless to me." That was enough for her. She walked closer as the injuries and blood loss became more and more evident as well as the manner of creatures they were. "Feyre," she heard her mate call but she was too intent on saving them that she ignored him. A male and a female she realized.Both looked like high fae although she couldn't be quite sure about the female since her hair covered her ears. And with the blood covering the both of them, more so on the female than the male she couldn't scent it either.It wasn't until then that she realized the position they were in - The male's hands were wrapped around the female's almost protectively. She heard footsteps sound behind her when she decided what she would do.

#tog #tog fanfiction #throne of glass #aelin ashryver galathynius #rowan whitethorn #sjm #feyre #rhysand #feysand #rowaelin #tog x acotar #embers and stars #acotarxtog #tog and acotar crossover #acofas #acomaf #cofeechocolateswrites #cofeechocolates

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trashyazeohane · 6 years

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Five shots too many - Adult!Maxvid!AU

Part 1/Part 2/Part 3

The evening before

Summary: Bad moods and childhood crushes don’t mix well with alcohol

Additional comments: Will contain smut in Part 2 (Top!Max + Bottom!David). Not beta-read.

You can also read it on AO3. Enjoy!

***

Max took another sip of his beer, his tongue not able to even taste a trace of alcohol anymore. He knew it was there, but he stopped sensing it. At this point he wasn’t sure whether it was even good or bad.

But he knew he shouldn’t have ordered another beer. Yet he had done just that. His fingers moved into his wallet to try to find a needed amount of coins, only to stop when a voice next to him spoke up:

“I’ll pay. It’s on me.”

It was David, speaking still with that adorable smile dancing on his lips, even though his gaze couldn’t stay focused at one point.

Max didn’t argue, he didn’t have the power to do so. He allowed for David’s clumsy, trembling hands to take out a bill to pay for his another beer and David’s shot.

Maybe this evening was a mistake. Maybe they should have ended it back when they both (or at least one of them) could think coherently. How long ago it was? Few minutes? Few hours? The time turned into dust. It was often happening whenever he was spending time with David.

But today evening shouldn’t have happened. Max should have cut it short and return to his dorm. He should have done it, because this was what responsible adults do.

Max was far away from the image of an ideal adult. But even though that, he knew he shouldn’t have done it. Yet he did. This small part of his coherently thinking brain was telling him to end it. if he still could control himself. Yet the body and heart was telling him to stay.

So he drank sip after sip. It was helping him bear with the stuffy atmosphere of the bar. It was helping him do something with his fidgeting hands. Hands that wanted to move closer to David.

No, he should control himself.

Yet the fog in his brain was slowly making his walls break down.

So his eyes followed David’s palm as he grabbed the tiny glass and emptied the half of it in one swift movement.

“You know, Max, I’m proud of you. You grew up into a very amazing guy.” David’s words were slurred, some ends were connected with the beginnings of others, however he was still speaking with pure, honest sincerity.

But David was far away from the truth.

“I’m still a shithead, David.” Max quickly added, needing to clear that out. Because it was the truth. Even though it felt nice when David called him otherwise.

And that doofus, of course, started to laugh, with that nice, cheerful laugh that always made Max’s heart jump wildly in his chest. So naturally it also happened now, especially as David swayed heavily first to Max’s side, then forward, only to rest his head on the pillow made from his arms.

The fact that he was now looking at Max with that happy, adorning look wasn’t helping. It was making everything way worse.

Another sip.

“That’s not true. You are kind when you want to be.” David’s eyes were shining, sparkling with dozen of tiny stars.

“You’re delusional and apparently very drunk.”

A chuckle escaped David’s lips, then a sigh, followed by eyes closing slowly. A lone lock of David’s now disarrayed hairs slumped down onto his forehead. Max had an urge to move his palm and softly push the strand out of the way.

This was dangerous.

But gladly before Max could do anything stupid, David opened his eyes, stared at him goofily and then tilted his head a little to move into more comfortable position. A movement which made David’s sweater slip down and show a patch of skin on the neck, together with a bruise.

That awful bruise. A hickey. A splatter of red color. No, not fully red, but intertwined with violet and gray hints.

Max hated it. But he despised more the man who had left it. Max had been surprised that David hadn’t called police on that guy. The only thing he had done was wave his hand and with smaller smile say ‘he has problems, let him be, Max’.

Oh, Max also had problems. One of which was the man who almost had sexually abused David – a pure, innocent David. Max wanted to punch that man, he wanted to see the blood spilling from his nose and mouth, he wanted to see fear, dangerous fear seeping into that man’s eyes.

Yet he knew David would never allow Max to do so. He had too good heart.

However this good heart had been broken a countless times.

David tried to act like he didn’t care. But Max knew better. He had seen as David had reached to his nape, only to freeze for few seconds, eyes staring at some far away point in the distance. David did care, because this was what David always did. Fucking care. Even when someone treated him like garbage.

David didn’t deserve it. And that man deserved a kick to his nuts.

So that’s why Max had proposed going out. Just the two of them, money, free Friday evening and apparently a lot of alcohol.

Max had lost track of number of beers he had drunk. He didn’t even want to think how many shots David had poured into himself. The hungover tomorrow will be deadly. But this was tomorrow Max’s problem. Today Max had more urging matters on his hand. Or mind.

“Maybe a little bit.” David continued the topic, like there wasn’t a huge gap between responses. Or maybe simply his mind finally caught up with the words spoken to him. Judging by the soft fluttering of his eyelids, he was on the edge of passing to the Morpheus’ Dream World.

Max checked the time. Half past midnight. They had had quite quick pace of drinking. No wonder they were already out of this world at this early for Max hour.

Max finished his beer in few quick gulps. You can’t waste alcohol, right? Especially if it was bought with David’s money.

“I’ll take you home, David.”

For a second Max thought that David would argue with him over that as he started to mumble something under his nose. But then David slowly lifted his head from his arms. Getting up from the chair took more work. But when David was more over standing properly, he patted his pockets, muttering under his nose ‘phone’ and ‘wallet’. God damn it, did he have to be so preventive even when drunk?

Max had everything with him too. He felt the light weight of his wallet and heard the metallic clank of his phone hitting the zipper when he zipped his jacket up. He was ready to go in a minute.

They moved slowly to the exit, not gaining any attention from the rest of customers. They were all too drunk to care.

“Thank you. Have a nice night!” Oh, yeah, one barman noticed them getting up from their seats. Now the man was looking at them, in the same time making a drink for some girl that definitely was too young to be here.

And David, that doofus, had to turn around and reply, still with that charming, kind (maybe too high) voice:

“Same to you!”

Max rolled his eyes, grumbled some thanks under his nose and then opened the door for drunk David to stumble out. Because, of course, that clumsy male tripped on the doorway while exiting. Maybe it shouldn’t be so surprising as he was usually accident prone. Add dizziness ruling over his mind and well… Max should expect it.

“Can you be clumsier, David?” Max asked, not trying to sound mean. He moved forward, grabbing the red haired male under arms to steady him, before he would get a mouth full of snow.

“I try not to be, but it doesn’t… doesn’t always work.” David said, lifting his body from the half fallen position. His head swayed heavily to the side as he looked at Max, grinning from ear to ear.

It was the alcohol making Max’s heart speed up. It definitely had to be.

(It wasn’t. He knew it wasn’t the alcohol, but his stupid heart)

Max let go of David’s arms, but kept hands close in case David would want to welcome the cold, snowy ground with his face once again. His own legs weren’t in perfect condition either, but in comparison to the older man Max was an athlete on today evening.

David made three steps on the crunchy, white fluff. Three wobbly steps, before he swayed heavily and leaned on the wall.

Okay, so this was a ‘no’.

“Here, let me help you.” Max mumbled, moving closer. He grabbed David’s one arm to throw it over his own shoulder. Max’s other hand moved to David’s waist, keeping him in more over almost standing position. “You obviously can’t walk alone…”

David giggled. Giggled, of all things he could do he chose to giggle at or maybe to Max.

“See? You’re a nice guy, Max. Helping my drunk a-“ Here he hiccupped, or maybe it was just a blissful coincidence. “…butt return home.”

“Only because I don’t want you to be robbed because you fell asleep behind some dumpster.” This was only a small percent of the whole truth. He simply didn’t want to make David walk home alone when he was in such state.

It’s your fault he’s like that now – added some reasonable part of Max’s brain – you shouldn’t have asked him to go out tonight.

But now it was too late. And the worst part was that Max didn’t regret it. They had fun, they had talked a lot, they had laughed and it had looked like David had managed to forget about his problems. But the shots…

Too many to count.

Step after step they were moving forward. The fact that the road was slippery as shit wasn’t helping them maneuver. David chuckled lightly when they skated a meter or so when Max’s foot found a frozen puddle. The hot breath coming from David’s lips tickled Max’s neck, making all his hairs stand up. His heart jumped high, echoing painfully in his chest.

(David’s body was warm under his palms, taking away the coldness this world was seeping into him)

Somewhere in the middle, or at least at some part of the journey David’s rested his head on Max’s shoulder. And even though the position was awkward and uncomfortable, Max felt good in it. The peace, the soft, maybe a little bit skittish rhythm od David’s breath, The smell of David’s shampoo. The nice glint of light reflected in his red strands. The delicate hums leaving his chapped lips.

God, he wanted for this moment to stay forever. He wanted to preserve it, to close it in some kind of glass box and be able to relive it, over and over in his head later.

And too fast they were in front of David’s apartment. Or at least the building. Passing through the first door was easy – Max knew the code to them, so he put it in. The stairs… well the stairs took definitely more effort.

First few steps were easy, even with David’s uncooperative legs. Few another were more over manageable too. Problems started after the first floor.

Max wasn’t sure what it was – the darkness, the alcohol, or the mind suddenly being clouded – but David simply couldn’t walk up the stairs. And well, of course, that clumsy idiot tried. He tried. He tried hard.

And in this process he was wriggling, brushing against Max’s body, sighing exasperatedly into his ear, tickling the skin with his warm, sizzling breath. His one hand moved to Max’s shirt, clutching it tightly as he focused solely on stepping forward, not caring at all that he almost touched Max’s skin with his own lips.

Max was… Max started to float. Not in the real meaning of this word, but in... just different meaning. He could feel, sense every nerve that was touching David’s squirming body. He could feel the skin touching his own. He could hear his own heart – loud, insane – inside his ears.

Blood rushed to his cheeks.

It was a torture. A torture to his mind, heart and body.

Yeah, definitely to lower part of his body. As blood rushed there too.

However David was probably too drunk to notice.

You like that – whispered something enticingly behind his ear.

Max did. Max loved it.

But finally, finally they reached the correct floor. Max exhaled slowly though his nose as they stepped forward to the familiar door.

David fumbled with his pockets, hand clumsily trying to open one pocket. He did it after a third try, only to take out few keys. At least he picked the right one on the first try.

He tried to put the key in the lock, only to fail miserably once. Then twice, then thrice and… four times.

“Give them to me.” Max growled, without a hint of venom in his voice. He was just tired, drunk and aroused. Spending more time like this near David wasn’t a good combination.

“No, I can do it.” David stubbornly said, sticking out his tongue, closing one eye and trying one more time to put the key in the hole. And yes, failing miserably in the end.

It was frustrating.

“David…”

“I can do it.”

Max sighed. Maybe it was the alcohol taking over David’s brain, making him miss every time.

“I can’t see in the… dark good.” David murmured, stepping in front of the Max.

Max’s palm left the secure place on David’s waist. However it didn’t last long as he had to wrap his hand one more time around David to prevent him from crashing right into his own door.

“Uhm… sorry.” David mumbled, swaying back into Max’s chest. “I got dizzy.”

Max wanted to say that it wasn’t a problem. He desperately wanted to tell it, mean it and forget about it.

But the heat, the warmness of David’s body glued to his own, the leaping rhythm of David’s heart near his own, the hitched breath coming from his mouth-

(Delicious, blissful lips)

Do it…

Do it.

It was intoxicating, it was eating Max from inside, it was making all these walls he had built around himself crumble down.

He wanted it. He wanted it bad. He wanted it desperately. Every night. Every lucid or not dream. Max wanted to have David near, he wanted to taste him, he wanted to make him feel safe.

He wanted David.

No-

Do it!

The words, sentences, voices inside his head mingled. He didn’t know to which voice he should listen, what part of his body was telling the truth, what or who or which something was the most trustworthy in his current situation.

Max glanced down at David, at his neck – exposed due to David wriggling so much that his jacket slipped down. He stared at the pinkish skin, at the auburn strands sticking in weird directions, at the muscles moving passionately with David’s every try.

You want to do it.

Max wanted to do it.

Max needed to do it.

And in this one moment all voices inside his head became quiet. The world grinded to a halt. Everything was still.

David stopped fiddling with his keys when Max kissed his neck.

His body was burning.

Max was still a brat after all.

To be continued

#Maxvid #Mavid #Adult!Maxvid!AU #my art?#my stories?#I'm in bad mood #So yeah #I hope at least that you have a good day #=D

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vinku-iikku · 6 years

Text

I participated in this year’s inktober challenge, if you want to just see the art please go here, and if you want to know what, why and how and some backgrounds behind each one, please have a look at the text under the cut.

I chose to use the official 2017 inktober prompts because I had a hard time finding others that’d suit my needs (I found plenty for couples and very specific ones, I wanted something more abstract), I picked a character I like and to make it interesting an OC of the day too:

The bird (that carries you over a disproportionately small gab) is a practice on consistency and staying on ’model’, the weird bird accompanying it is practise on creativity and getting out of my comfort zone. Both can act as trying new stuff with inking.

Why that bird? I’ll make a separate post about it in a moment.

I used a basic pencil for sketching, and Staedtler pigment liner 0,1mm for inking, all the drawings are on a regular notebook meant for keeping notes I guess. The blog and all posts were made through the tumblr app. I only edited the pictures with crop, making them b&w(the notebook is kind of yellowish white) and added brightness, they are all kind of huge files compared to their size offline.

1. ”swift” Here it starts! It’s very obvious here that I got inspired by the sillier art in Doodle Doods, my original aim was to make one ’normal’ drawing of the bird, and another of the same bird that is way more extreme, gave up on that the second day. I had no idea where to put thicker lines yet as you can see especially on the weird bird.

2. ”divided” Right on second day got a theme for which I couldn’t come up with a good idea. The bird is disagreeing with the weird bird, and the disproportionately small gap divides the amount of birds on screen. Still have very little idea where heavier lines should go here.

3.”poison” Original idea for the weird bird was a bird that’s swum through a thick oil spill in the sea and got it’s wings ripped off, but then I decided I don’t want to draw any gore this month. I’m not sure how it looks like but the bird is supposed to be slipping on the oil on the ground. The holes in the black were supposed to be shiny parts of the oil, but look more like holes.. Accidentally figured out here that making thicker outlines looks good.

4. ”underwater” First thing that got inked was the water, I’m surprised I got it that straight without a ruler. Here’s where I realised I can make varying thickness on the wings of the weird bird, the fluffy side is one time ink, the other side twice the ink to make it thicker.

5. ”long” Original idea was to make the weird bird long-necked lesser dog -style, but then I ended up experimenting with different line styles instead.

6.”sword” It’s a bird-monster with a toy sword vs. sword-monster with a toy bird. Place your bets. Toy sword blade I drew with a ruler, the sword-monster got freehanded, and it shows. Bended uneven knives make harder healing cuts.

7.”shy” Trying out different kinds of curves this day, also first try on making small patterns with the flowers.

8.”crooked” I thought for a while what objects there are in the Waterfall area that could look crooked, the umbrella bucket was the only thing that came to mind. I looked at pixel art of it and tried to get a 3D effect to it, ended up making it metallic-looking instead...

9.”screech” I didn’t want to draw the bird with its mouth open, so looked at Google Translate for any hint of other meanings for the word. Turns out most of the examples were of cars for some reason, but that one sentence stood out so I drew it. That’s Donald Duck’s car, drew it from memory and apparently the part I remember best from it is the wheels.

10.”gigantic” Another harder topic, in the end tried to make an Attack of the Titans reference (I don’t watch the show at all).

11.”run” Tried several effects to make it look like they are going fast, they are supposed to be racing on a highway.

12.”shattered” As soon as I saw the theme I knew I wanted to try draw glass shards, the mirror was added so there’d be a reason the shards are stuck to the ground like that. Another idea was a broken egg, I wish I hadn’t given the egg shells the stronger lines, they looked way better without.

13.”teeming” This was the first to not be made on the day it was supposed to, I was out all day and got home on the morning of the next day. I had to look up this word, apparently it’s used on heavy rain and swarms of insects? The weird bird is inspired by an amalgamate.

14.”fierce” Only thing I could think of is that the bird was fiercely protecting something, here it’s a moldsmal that got hit by someone (that’s supposed to be a bandage on its top). I looked at several videos of aggressive ducks to find a correct pose for the weird bird.

15.”mysterious” Another one that got done next day from when it should’ve, wanted to get a translation done instead. I couldn’t think of anything that’d be mysterious, so drew the weirdest thing I could think of.

16.”fat” I remember seeing some documentary where an animator said chubby characters are the most fun to animate... The look of the bird is inspired by kekeflipnote animations.

17.”graceful” Samples of ’grace’ I could find were ballet-related, so here are two birds dancing. My hand was extra shaky on this day for some reason, it felt like a battle to ink the weird bird.

18.”filthy” Trying fast shaky movement again since the first day drawing, this one worked better I think. also trying out different levels and shades of grime.

19.”cloud” I was really tired that day, drew my biggest fantasy there. Clouds are my favourite natural phenomena, I can stare at the huge fluffy ones for a long time, especially at sunrise or sunset. This was the first one I drew at the kitchen table where I get proper support form my hand, all else up to this point were drawn hunched over the notebook while sitting on a sofa.

20.”deep” Drew the first idea that came to mind, the bottom of the well. I toyed a lot with different levels of shading, still missed a few stones it seems... The perspective was fun to plan! Another one at the kitchen table, I took many progress pictures because I constantly felt like I’d end up shading something wrong and ruin the whole thing.

21. ”furious” How is this different from ”fierce” earlier? I guess it’s more aggressive..? But it’s hard to add more anger to the birds face so I guess the weird bird takes care of that side.

22. ”trail” Immediately thought of footprints. The bird’s holding a magnifying glass, though it looks like a mirror here.

23. ”juicy” All I could think of was fruit juice. Making fruit juice with bare hands (wings?) is a nod to Oofuri, the bird’s gotta have some amazing wing strength to be able to carry people. I made a lot of tiny mistakes while inking, but as a whole they don’t stand out as much as I thought. Weird.

24. ”blind” The weird bird is some sort of fog-monster, but I’m not sure how well it shows. The rippled-effect was super fun to do!

25. ”ship” This prompt was a delight to draw! The paper-hat and boat are made of newspaper, the latter is for bigger monsters, it almost says ’pharaoh’ in Finnish at one place, otherwise it’s just random letters. The water-effect is building on what I learned on the second day, and adding more on the surface. The weird bird’s eye is another window where a tiny monster peeks out.

26. ”squeak” Original idea was mouse dress-up, but then this happened. The instrument is a flute that’s apparently called a ’recorder’ in English, if you blow at it with full force like that it makes a high-pitched squeak-sound (trust me, I have one).

27. ”climb” This day I went on a super long walk since the first snow of winter fell. It was super fun! But I was exhausted in many ways after. The weird bird might be scheming some trick there, idk.

28. ”fall” Acme-style umbrella fall with the weird bird, and the bird falls to the rescue!

29. ”united” Well I could avoid making the bird carry anyone up to this point... here’s united effort to get across together! This is a reference to what Undyne says about the bird in the game, it flew her over when she was a kid. This doesn’t look like it’d take over an hour, but I’m sure there were a lot of failed attempts with almost drowning. I think Undyne is sort of what Pippi Långstrump would be like as an adult, so she has pigtails. Would’ve added the socks too but webbed feet seemed cooler to me.

30. ”found” Pulled this one from the feeling when you find something weird and oh no it’s a bird’s nest and here comes the parent!

31. ”mask” Masks are cool. I like the jokes where there’s a mask under a mask, or the mask is exactly what the actual face looks like. This one has only been cropped(i.e. there’s no colour edits), it pictures all my tools too.

#myart

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