#the wings especially that is the best i’ve ever done them

[lea-russo333]

Arsenal x Teen-Reader

hi! this is the first fic that I've ever done so it's probably not going to be the best, but I still hope that some people like it! i will do a pt2 if people enjoy this one 😊

warnings: angst! eating disorders, mentions of throwing up, mentions of body shaming (pls let me know if I've missed anything)

please don't read if any of these things will trigger you.

proofread: sort of

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2:15am

You had to be up in a few hours for an early morning training session, but here you are on your phone scrolling through the endless rabbit hole of nasty Comments directed towards your appearance, especially your body.

You had only just come back from an ACL injury that had you out from playing and the public eye for nearly a year, and in that year, you had been working hard to regain your strength making your body stockier than you use to be, and people had noticed.

“She looks like a man.”

“that’s not attractive.”

“She looked better before.”

Your eyes started to sting, a few tears slipping out of them. You turned your phone off and turned around, you tried to stifle your sobs not wanting to wake up Beth and Viv who were sleeping in the room next door.

You had been living with Viv ever since you joined arsenal at 16 as she was your national teammate, so it was only reasonable, Viv and Beth had both taken you under their wing becoming a mother figure to you. Now at 19

You took a deep breath and squeezed your eyes shut holding the teddy bear that Katie had giving you for a birthday present, tears were still streaming down your face when sleep found you pulling you into a deep sleep.

Your blaring alarm startled you awake, you looked towards clock feeling as though you had only just shut your eyes.

7:30am

You groaned, you had to be at training in an hour. Waddling your way to the bathroom, you could hear Beth and Viv both talking down the hall; more than likely in the kitchen making coffee and breakfast for all of you. When you reached the bathroom and took a look in the mirror you froze taking in your appearance, your eyes were puffy and red, swollen face and hair disheveled.

“Liefde” Viv's voice echoed through the house “do you want to have breakfast here or at the training ground? I’ve made pancakes for Beth and I if you want some?” you heard her gently knock the door. Panicked, you quickly splashed cold water on your face and patted down your hair, hoping you didn’t look too much of a mess as you did be for.

You heard her knock again.

“Are you okay sweets?” it was Beths voice speaking now.

“yeah” you took a deep breath, opening the door, they both looked at you, taking in your disheveled form, looking at each other with a concerned look.

“Are you sure Liefde? You look like you’ve been crying’’ it was Viv that spoke this time, her hand reaching out to touch your face. You moved away frowning.

“I'm fine I was just watching some sad videos last night” you brushed both the girls off, giving the two women a half-asked excuse. You heard Beth laugh under her breath, putting her arm on your shoulder.

“Now why would you do that to yourself love” she laughed while patting your back, both girls seeming to believe your lie. “Now how are you feeling about pancakes?” the older women asked whilst dragging you and Viv to the kitchen. You stomach turned and you pulled your hand back shaking your head.

“I'm alright thanks, I think I'm just gonna have breakfast when we get there” you said whilst slowly making your way back into your room to get ready for training.

-

The car ride to training was fast and you quickly got your training gear out of the car before thanking the two older women and heading for the change rooms. Viv and Beth watch you walk away from them with worried looks on their faces.

“I'm worried about her” Beth turned her head towards Viv.

“I know, so am I” Viv spoke while putting a comforting hand on her girlfriends should, the two heading into the training facility.

-

When you got in the change room, only a few girls where in there, Steph, Manu and Katie. You quickly said hello before rushing towards the showers, not wanting to change in front of them.  You had been changing in the showers for the past few weeks, knowing that if you changed in front of everyone that they'd see how much weight you’ve lost in a short amount of time, and you’d be caught. You waited in the showers until you heard the girls leave for breakfast. You let out a shaky breath that you hadn't realized Youd been holding and sild out of the change rooms and making a bee line for the gym; wanting to get in some extra exercise before practice started. You knew everyone would be at breakfast, so you weren't fussed with anyone catching you. What you hadn't anticipated though, was for your skipper Leah to be in the gym as well. you would never admit it out loud, but Leah intimated you. She was a good captain, hardworking and stern, she always tells it how it is and wasn’t afraid to call someone out when they were acting out or not putting in the effort.

As soon as you entered, she turned to look at you, eyes scrunching in confusion. You mumbled a quick apology and went to leave when she spoke up.

“You alright y/n? why aren't you at breakfast?” she was walking towards you.

“I'm sorry I didn’t realize anyone one was in here, I just wanted to get some extra time in before training” you said rather quickly, eyes looking anywhere but at her.

“Why would you need to do that when we already have an hour gym session today?” her eyebrows still furrowed “you didn’t tell me why you aren't at breakfast” her tone was stern and unwavering as she kept her hard gaze on you.

“I ate breakfast at home” you told her “Viv made pancakes” she looked you up and down almost scanning your body before her gaze turned back to your face her eyebrow rising slightly as if telling you she didn’t really believe you. She looked away as you gulped. That was another thing about Leah, she always seemed to know when you were lying to her, and right now didn’t seem to be an exception.

“Right well trainings about to start anyway” she said while turning your body in the direction of the door “lets head out to the field” she pushed you forward, a silent way to tell you to lead the way. You rolled your eyes and shook your head, speeding up your movement so you didn’t have to walk with her.

As training progressed you could feel your body getting tired, you hadn't eaten anything this morning and thrown up your dinner from last night. You knew it was bad, but you couldn’t stop…it was an addicting feeling.

By the time lunch time had rolled around and training was finished for the day, you were absolutely exhausted and wanted nothing more than to go home and curl up in your bed and sleep. Your body was sore, and You hobbled slowly towards the changing room, your breathing was uneven, and your head was pounding.

You were the last to make it to the changing rooms, you could her Alessia and Katie making dinner plans for tonight and was asking people if they'd be able to make it. You mentally rolled your eyes as Beth excitedly said that you three would be attending.

“Hey, you alright mate?” you groaned at the question, having heard it one to many times that day for your liking. You turned to see Caitlyn behind you.

“Yes, I'm fine” you huffed out, slowly growing agitated.

“Are you sur- “you cut her off before she could finish.

“Yes, I'm fine! I’ve already said it about a thousand times” you huffed grabbing your stuff and storming out of the room, not even bothering to change, leaving behind shocked Caitlin and confused teammates.

“I’ll go talk to her” Beth muttered after a few minutes of awkward silence. She grabbed her training kit, as did Viv, and walked out of the room. They looked in countless empty rooms before heading to the car park where they found you waiting by the car scrolling on your phone once again, they had noticed you had been doing that a lot recently.

As soon as you heard the car door click, you jumped inside, not wanting to have the conversation you knew was about to take place. Both Beth and Viv entered soon after having a short conversation outside. No one said anything throughout the drive home, the two women sharing glances with each other every now and then while you opted to stay on your phone, scrolling through your Instagram comments.

When the three of you got home you headed straight for your room, closing the door behind you. Both the women sighed as they watched you. They had both noticed a change in you, they had noticed how you went straight to the bathroom after dinner, telling them you needed to “shower”, they had believed you at first until Beth had overheard you vomit in the bathroom 2 nights in a row. They had noticed that you weren't eating the snacks you love anymore or that you weren't eating breakfast in the mornings with them anymore, they had also noticed the mass amount of weight you had lost in such a little span of time. Of course, they had noticed it, practically the whole team had noticed it, with some voice their worries for you every now and then.

“She needs help” Beth stated as she stared at your bedroom door.

“Yeah…I know.”

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Thank you for reading!! pls write some feedback if you have any :)

and if people are interested then I will do a pt2 💕

#woso #arsenal #arsenal x reader #beth mead #beth mead x reader #vivianne miedema #leah williamson #leah williamson x reader #wsl #arsenal imagine #arsenal women

[velvetlilacsdaisies]

Fourth Wing Men HCs: nicknames for him

Includes: Bodhi Durran, Garrick Tavis

A/n: I haven’t wrote some headcannons in a HOT minute, but me and @garricks4thwingqueen have been conspiring and inspired me to take a whack at it again. These got a smidge long, so I will make a part 2 with more characters, and other scenarios, but you know who had to start with! I also included some AI pics I’ve been cooked up that are mashes of my fancasts ideas for the characters. I have the hardest times visualizing a lot of characters and places in stories and sometimes the AIs I’ve seen all look alike or aren’t itching the right part of my brain. Disclaimer: I tried to take into consideration book accuracy, but AI is AI and I only dabble w it on my phone. So I’ll take what I can get. Skin tones, hair, proportions may not be perfect. These just personally help get a better concept, and I find fun to make, and anddd risking forgetting about a free 7 day trail from time to time 🕳️🤸‍♀️ *muah* enjoy!

Warnings: swearing, underage drinking/smoking (if u squint), suggestive content

Bodhi Durran

Bo/Boh, beau, bowie, Bo Bo, babe, love

Xaden and him are maternal cousins. While the firstborn always had the weight of responsibility growing up being an heir by his parents. The younger cousin was always ‘coddled’ by his. Though he adored his family, he hated how they always doted on him. Mainly because of how much his older cousin and his best friend would tease him about it.

Xaden and Garrick started cooing “Bowie” and “Bo Bo” at him when they were 12, he was 11.

“Bowie, don’t forget to write to me.” “Bowie, be good for your uncle.” “Oh Bo Bo don’t you look so handsome today!” They’d snicker to him under their breaths when he’d arrive at the fortress when his mom would drop him before flying out to an outpost. Watching how his cheeks flushed red, and he had tight balled fists pressed at his sides.

Once the doors closed, after formal introductions with his Uncle and lingering personal staff were done, and once the adults a room away—he would hurl one of his clenched fists at their shoulders.

Starting a playful brawl amongst the three

Spoiler alert: Bo Bo back then lost once or twice…maybe a handful of times

Then as awkward teenagers when problems were simpler the three of the pubescent boys discovered churam and drinking. Bodhi started unironically calling himself Bo Bo and Bowie, mockingly teasing himself as a ‘bit’.

The young men were sat around a fire in the clearing to the outside of Riorson House. Xaden and Garrick in a heated debate over a petty topic. “Bo Bo can’t comprehend what’s going on right now.” He would say, exaggerating and scratching his the top of his head. It had been effective for the most part to ease the tension between his friends

Now from time to time, he’ll still do it especially if you’re present. He always thought you looked cute as you shook your head with a crooked smile spread across your face when he did it

Sometimes fhd guys would find him doing something badass, you’ll hear triumphant whooping from Xaden and Garrick, endearingly using the nicknames they called him as a child

“Go Bowie!” “Bo Bo that was fucking awesome!” “Bowie! Bowie! Bowie!”

But if anyone else besides the select few called him those names, he’d glare daggers at them. Like the time Ridoc tried to call him Bo Bo during lunch while the group was joking around

Bodhi’s boyish grin disappeared instantaneously. “If you ever call me that, I will rip your tongue out.”

The first time he heard you call him Bowie tho, he nearly melted. It was one of the first times you slept over with him and he had to get up early for a leadership meeting

You propped up on elbow, using your other hand to wipe the sleep from your eyes. “Do you have to go, Bowie?” A small pout on your lips watching him get dressed

His other pet names from you were selective, usually just calling him Bo/Boh, but your favorites were Babe and Love

Babe being the one you leaned towards the most

especially when you would catch him doing something ridiculous or he’d press your buttons. Or just when you wanted something

“Babe? Are you kidding me?” “Babe stop!”

“Babe can you get me another drink, please?” You asked, looking up from your lashes with puppy dog eyes. He folded every time no matter if you were closer to the serving station or bar. How could he say no when you gave him that look? Not caring, flipping all his friends off as they’d give him knowing smiles.

He was a simp for you

Love was usually reserved for tender moments with him. When you’d notice he’d be having a bad day, or to calm him down when you’d notice he was fuming silently beside you at something going on

Intertwining your fingers with his giving a reassuring squeeze. “It’s alright, Love.”

Or holding his cheeks, bringing him to eye level with you. “I’m here, Love. Can you take a couple deep breaths for me?”

Sometimes you broke out the corny double entendre of beau. Very select people would get it, but you thought it was great

Mainly you’d be out to the taverns with your friends when you’d use it. Usually when a girl would approach him, and you’d try to hide your jealousy tho it was plain as day

“He’s actually my beau.” You’d say, a sinisterly sweet smile on your face when a girl tried to introduce herself. Your hand twirling the curls at the nape of his neck. Bodhi would always shiver from the gesture, trying to contain his arousal at your possessiveness

Then later in the night, he’d pin you to the wall of his room. Pressing feverish kisses up the column of your throat. “Are you gonna show me all the way I’m your beau?” He muttered before grazing the delicate skin with his teeth

Garrick Tavis

Gare, Tavis, Gary, Gare Bear, Hon/Honey, Sir

His parents tried to call him Gary at one point growing up, but he always ignored them or begged them not to call him that. It always sounded so stupid to him

Garrick was blunt, dry, and straight to the point not caring for nicknames. Only really preferring to be called by his name or Gare on occasion by his friends and acquaintances. His last name an even better alternative than a nickname

But Xaden, Imogen, and Bodhi took a sick pleasure in all the creative corny nicknames his parents would try to make a thing for him growing up.

“I think we oughta get Gary’s input?” Imogen leaned her chin in her hand as they all discussed weekend plans after school looking over at the towering young man. The side of her mouth crookedly lilting upward, knowing she struck a nerve. Garrick could already feel his eye twitch, clenching his quill as he acted like he hadn’t heard them a few feet away at the table in the library.

“It seems Gare Bear’s not in the mood today.” Xaden would casually lean back in his chair, smirking, and watching his best friend stroll into the dining room late for dinner time after a terrible day

Which would result in Garrick walking by, and tipping his chair back causing the Riorson to flail and fall backwards. “Relax asshole,” Xaden hissed, rubbing his head.

To this day they still called him the silly names. Taking immense pride when you had picked up on the memo, and started to call Garrick the names he despised. Especially because you two weren’t each others favorite people at first

The first time it happened, it was when Garrick pissed you off. He had been criticizing all your sparring movements, and you had enough. “Sorry we can’t all be perfect like you, Gare Bear.” You’d sneer, watching the irritation form on his face.

“Do not call me that.” He’d glower, but you’d just smile brightly. “Whatever you say…Gare Bear.”

Seeing how it got under his skin, from that moment on you’d always call him just to pester him. Enjoying the glare he’d shoot your way or awaiting for whatever witty remark he’d reply

Eventually once you two started getting along, you called him his first name, being more considerate towards his feelings. Garrick’s chest filling with disappointment as he awaited the usual Gare Bear falling from your pretty lips.

“Hey Garrick,” it was a rare moment when you found him by himself. None of your mutual friends around for once, and one of the first interactions you had alone. “What?” He looked up from what he doing. “I said hey?” You gave him a weird look. “But you called me Garrick.” He said in disbelief. “That’s your name isn’t it?” “You always call me Gare Bear tho.”

That’s when you realized he secretly liked it despite him trying to act annoyed at you.

Then when you had officially started dating, he had to get used to fact you loved calling him all these terms of endearment. Deep down, loving how you could make him become bashful by your words

“Here you go, Honey.” Leaning down, kissing his cheek, setting down a dish of apple crisp in front of him. You knew how much he liked the dessert and grabbed an extra one when getting your dinner. Garrick’s cheeks tinged red and chuckled appreciatively, “you’re the best.” His friends just silently stared as if you two had three heads. “What’s the matter?” You asked the group unphased, taking a seat. “You broke him.” Imogen replied in awe.

You had changed his perception on being called nicknames. Even letting it slide when his friends poked fun at him with the once despicable nicknames

Out of all the nicknames you called him, his favorite by far was the one you’d use in the bedroom.

“Please,” you begged, while sitting on your knees. “Please what?” Garrick gripped your chin between his thumb and forefinger. You gulped, “please Sir.” A cruel smirk on his face, pressing a small kiss to your lips. “Good girl.”

#bodhi durran x reader #bodhi durran fanfic #bodhi durran fic #bodhi durran #bodhi fourth wing #bodhi durran smut #Bodhi Durran headcannon #Bodhi Durran hc #garrick travis x reader #garrick tavis #Garrick Tavis smut #Garrick Tavis fic #Garrick Tavis imagine #bodhi durran imagine #Garrick Tavis headcannon #Garrick Tavis hc #iron flame fanfiction #iron flame fic #fourth wing bodhi #fourth wing fanfic

[wandering-winchesters]

If this is how I go, it’s worth it.

Dean x injured reader

Word count: 1,926

Trigger Warnings: injury, blood, mention of a firearm.

Summary: reader gets hurt protecting Dean.

A/N: Requests are open! Please send them to me. If you’d like to be added to my tag list, please let me know! Masterlist

I’ve always had a hard time letting people into my life. Introducing them to the real me, the darker side of me that I hide behind a bubbly facade. The childhood that shaped me, something that very few people know about. When I was little there was no one to protect me from the things that I had to live through, the nightmarish situations that I still relive too often in my sleep. In adulthood, I’ve changed the narrative. I’ve become the protector, there’s nothing I wouldn’t do to help someone else. Save someone else. Especially those that I love and hold close to my heart.

Sam and Dean have always held a special place in my life. Ever since I met them, on a hunt many years ago. They’d taken me under their wing, Sam willingly, Dean reluctantly. I knew nothing of the supernatural until I was in the wrong place at the wrong time and become the next helpless victim of a nest of vampires. That was until Sam and Dean showed up, just in time.

They knew I didn’t have a great childhood, I’d clued them into that much. However, I would never let them in entirely. It was too much, I didn’t want them to think of me any differently. I’ve seen the way Dean already looks at me after hunts, the annoyance that comes over him when things don’t go the way he wanted. I see the concern that washes over Sam, when I come close to being injured, or when I walk away with cuts and bruises. I don’t need their pity, they don’t need that burden.

Through everything over the years, I began to love them more than I thought possible. Sam like a brother. Dean like an annoying asshole, but also my best friend that I loved with all of my heart, not that I would ever tell him. I couldn’t, he would never feel the same way I was sure of it.

So when I saw that demon smirk and point a gun directly towards Dean’s head, I never hesitated to throw myself onto him and shove him to the ground. My body blocking the path of the bullet, giving Sam enough time to finish the exorcism, the black cloud erupting from the helpless man and fleeing the room.

“What the hell, Y/N. You shouldn’t have done that!” Dean yells, anger etching its way across his face, the concern only evident from the tone of his voice. His eyes searching mine for any sign of pain.

“He was going to kill You Dean.” I grovel, pushing myself off of him, the adrenaline still pumping through my veins. Dean scowls, his hand coming up to his face to wipe some sweat from his brow.

“So what? You were going to sacrifice yourself for me? How much of an idiot are you?”

I roll my eyes at him, pushing off my thighs to stand from the squatting position I had moved into. It wasn’t until I stood fully upright and began to stretch my limbs that the searing pain caught up to me. I press my hand to my abdomen instinctively, trying to dull the pain.

“I’m not an idiot De-“ I stop mid sentence as I bring my hand up to eye level. Red. Dripping , red blood, covers the entirety of my fingers. My eyes dart up from my hand, locking with Sam’s from across the room. He’s staring back at me, shock etched across his face, but beginning to walk towards me.

“That’s debatable- oh my god Y/N, fuck.” Dean starts, his tone changing halfway through his lecture. He takes the two steps necessary to get to me, taking his flannel off in the process. I feel his hands grip my body, one going to my back, the other balling his flannel up and pressing it tightly against the wound in my abdomen.

“Sam, you’ve gotta help me.” Dean pleads, his eyes never leaving my face.

My body starts to feel numb, the adrenaline wearing off and searing pain roaring through every nerve ending in my body. I feel my legs collapse beneath me, Dean quickly compensating for my lack of lower body strength, by pulling me into his embrace.

I laugh bitterly, coughing and choking on what I assume is blood making its way through my lungs and out of my throat.

“If this is how I go De, it’s worth it. I promise you.” I whisper, my eyes locking with his vivid green ones. His eyes. I’d never allowed myself to stare into his eyes for this long, the deep green is enchanting. Pulling me in, the longer I look. I barely even notice my tears beginning to fall, I’m too focused on the way his eyes are beginning to water as he stares back at me.

I can see his lips moving, feel the way he’s shaking me gently, his hand cupping my face. Sam is right next to me too, I feel the floor pressing into my body as they lower me to the ground, in an attempt to slow the bleeding and apply more pressure. None of that matters now. Nothing matters now, my vision is blurring. My eyelids are heavy, so heavy.

“Hey!” Dean’s firm voice breaks through my haze, his hand lightly slapping my face, “don’t do that, Y/N. Don’t close your eyes. You don’t get to die on me, you hear me sweetheart?” I blink rapidly, trying to clear my field of vision. I momentarily succeed, my eyes locking with his again. I can see the absolute panic engraved into every ounce of this man’s face, he’s moving me now. My head falls forward as he places an arm under my shoulders, the other under my knees. He tucks my head against his chest with his chin, pressing a kiss to my sweat soaked hairline. I continue to fight the wave of exhaustion sweeping over me, blinking my eyes trying to keep them open. The last thing I see is Dean, looking down at me pleading for me to stay with him. But slowly, ever so slowly, my eyes fall closed and the world around me goes black

-

Agony.

This must be hell, the amount of pain that I’m in, the only explanation is hell.

A low groan escapes my lips, every inch of my skin is on fire. Muscles and nerves that I didn’t know I had are screaming out in protest as I try to take a full breath. I manage to inhale, immediately turning into a coughing fit as I choke on the air entering my lungs.

“Easy. Slow breaths, sweetheart.” A hand comes to rest on the crown of my head, stroking my hair gently. The touch startling me, causing me to panic and try to brush away the touch.

“Shhhh, it’s okay.” His voice rushes over my senses, calming me, reassuring me.

I force myself to open my eyes, unsure what to expect.

“Dean?” I whisper, finally realizing that he’s here in-front of me. “Am I dead?” My voice barely functioning, my throat dry and hoarse.

“It’s me sweetheart. You’re not dead. I told you I wasn’t going to let you go.” He smiles slightly, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. He holds a cup up to my lips, letting me take small sips, his fingers never leaving my skin.

“I must be dead, the Dean I know is never this nice to me.” I whisper, a small laugh escaping me, which I immediately regret. Relief floods over deans face, the crease in his brow lessens, a small smile reaches his eyes this time.

“That’s not true, idiot.” He says, pressing a kiss to my knuckles.

“That’s more like it, bitch.” I say, squeezing his hand back.

-

The next few weeks pass slowly, I’m never alone for more than five minutes. The boys take turns, keeping me company, changing my bandages, helping me shower, and just all around waiting on me hand and foot. Dean spends every night on the couch, that he had dragged into my room in the bunker. I don’t object, too weak and tired to even dare. I spend a lot of time sleeping, nightmares plaguing my every attempt at resting.

Tonight is one of those nights, I’ve already awoken from a nightmare. Now I lay on my side, gazing at Dean sitting on the couch. His fingers hovering over the keyboard on his laptop, researching some creature that he has refused to tell me about. Any time I have asked, it starts an argument about how the only thing I need to think about right now is recovering.

“I can feel you staring.” He smirks, bringing his eyes to meet my own, the corners of his mouth turning into a smile. He seems older, worry is etched deeper into his face, his eyes not nearly as bright as they used to be. The dark circles under his eyes, accentuated by the terrible late night lighting of my room.

“I can’t help it, you’re just so annoying I can’t not stare.” I mumble, gently pushing myself up on my elbow. Trying to conceal the wince that follows this slight movement.

Dean chuckles, closing his laptop and turning his body to face me.

“Y/N, we need to talk about what happened back there.” He stares, his brow furrowing again. So many emotions sweep across his face at once, I cant read him.

“You can’t do that again. You cant throw yourself into harms way to save me. I couldn’t live with myself if anything happened to you. What am I saying? Something did happen to you. I already have a hard time looking at you, knowing you almost died to save me. I love you too much, to let you die for me.” He wrings his hands as he speaks, his eyes moving away from mine and focusing on the wooden floor boards beneath his feet.

A silence falls between us for a few moments, his words hanging heavy in the air. My head spinning at his words, I love you too much. Dean Winchester loves me.

“Dean, I don’t think you understand me nearly as well as you think you do. There is nothing you can say or do that would stop me from taking a bullet for you again. I will always do everything in my power to protect you. Protect you in the way that I never had. You would do it for me De, you gotta let me do it for you too.” His eyes are trained on me again, red rimmed and watery. He swipes at them with his fingers, clearing his throat and maintaining eye contact with me once more.

I slide my feet towards the edge of the bed, intent upon going to sit near to him. He stops me with a look and a few mumbled words about how I better not move my ass from my spot or else.

I huff, patting the bed next to me.

“C’mere then, Winchester.” I say, watching his every move as he crosses the distance of the bedroom to sit by my side.

“De-“I rest my head on his shoulder, taking a deep breath and steeling my nerves. He reaches over and intertwines our fingers, his thumb tracing a pattern into the back of my hand. “I love you too, more than I thought possible. I’ll always do anything I can to save you. On this side of hell and the next.”

#deanwinchesterfluff #dean winchester fluff #deanwinchesterxreader #dean winchester fic #supernatural dean #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester angst #dean winchester x injured reader #dean winchester #dean winchester comfort #dean x reader #supernatural #spn #wanderingwinchesters #sam and dean #dean x you #deanwinchesterblurb #sam winchester

[theyhavetakenovermylife]

Shadows Entwined: part 6

BatmanVsTmnt!Leonardo x sidekick!reader

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 / Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Bonus (18+)

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A/N: And one week later, the Gotham adventure continues💙

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You arrive at Arkham Asylum, finding the eerie building abandoned, with the expectations of a few mutants. One mutant especially, makes Leo realize a fear he did not know he had.

Warnings: Spelling, fear gas visions, imaginary death, angst, desperation.

The reader and the turtles are 19.

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“I win!”, Robin said proudly as he landed at the gates of Arkham Asylum. “And you owe me a pizza”, he said, gesturing towards you, seeming oblivious for a short time, as the rest of you took in the appearance of Arkham Asylum and its menacing atmosphere. From the gates to the front entrance, was a path marked with dead trees, all casting contorted shadows on the ground. Its gothic walls were dark, with a glow of green and red, giving it a sickening appearance. Windows were smashed and not a single window carried any light, making it feel similar to a haunted house in the worst horror movies.

“I’ve never liked this place”, you mumbled, causing Leo to turn his head slightly towards you. The look on your face, it wasn’t fear. Batman had probably learned you to not show fear, yet there was something in your eyes. Your pretty eyes. A determination yet a hesitance. Leo noticed how your shoulders had tensed a bit, and how your demeanor had changed so much since your small race on the rooftops.

Leonardo offered his elbow out to you ever so slightly, causing you to look at him in slight confusion. “Just hold on if you ever need to”, he said, feeling his heartbeat to raise ever so slightly when he saw a small smile on your lips.

“No sign of the Foot or the League”, Batman’s deep voice sounded, causing both of you to jump back to reality, back in front of Arkham’s threatening gate. “Stay sharp”.

With all of your weapons ready, you followed Batman up the path and through the main doors. None of you saw anyone. Not a single soul. All you could see was the dark corners of Arkham, and the haunting silence.

BANG.

You jumped slightly, placing a hand on Leonardo’s arm. If it wasn’t for the threatening atmosphere of Arkham, Leo would probably have enjoyed the feeling. Maybe he would even have turned to smile at you, if not for the sound of something being dragged along the ground.

“Well, would you look at that”, a voice sounded in the darkness. A dog-like being dressed in a jester costume and carrying a big mallet, jumped onto the railing at the top of the staircase. “The bat has made some new best friends! So, are you gonna introduce me to your new turtle pals or what?”

“Harley. What have they done to you?”, Batman asked, ever so stoic.

“The ooze”, Donnie spoke up. “They must have injected themselves”.

“Aha”, Harley said with a finger in the air before jumping back from the railing. “There’ll be plenty of time to talk once you find Mister J and our guests. He got a whole thing planned! I don’t wanna ruin it. You know how he gets!” And with those words she turned and left, leaving you and the rest in shivering unease. All expect Batman and Leonardo.

The said turtle stepped forward, ready to follow the mutant, but Batman stopped him. “Wait”, he said, causing Leo to look at him. “Presumably Shredder and Ra’s have mutated all of the inmates of Arkham”.

“Was this their plan?”, Batgirl asked in confusion. “Mutate the villains and unleash them on the city?”

“I have a feeling this is just one part of the puzzle”, Batman said. “Split up. Investigate each wing. (H/N), you and Leonardo come with me. Remember, this whole asylum is essentially a maze. There are hostages to rescue, and on top of that, even before they were mutated, these inmates were the deadliest criminals in all of Gotham”. That was the last the dark knight said before he turned, his cape flowing behind him.

“I was kind of expecting a pep talk”, Donatello said, looking to you, Batgirl and Robin for some sort of confirmation.

“That was the pep talk”, Robin grumbled, slightly irritated over the fact that Batman had chosen you to go with him, and not him.

“Go team”, Batgirl said, two thumbs in the air.

You and Leonardo did just as Batman had told you to, and followed him down the hall. Well, not before you shot Batgirl a smug grin, as she and Donatello decided to go together. But that smug grin soon disappeared as the three of you walked through the halls of Arkham in complete silence. You felt a slight frustration at the way Batman would position himself either between you and the blue clad turtle, or just behind you, never leaving any of you out of sight. You knew very well it was because of Batman’s protective mannerisms towards his family. It was his wish to protect that made him look out for any danger that could harm you. But to Leo it felt different. He couldn’t shake this itching feeling that Batman did not want him to be alone with you in Arkham. Was it because he did not trust that Leo could protect you, or did he not wish his daughter to be alone with the mutant turtle she was starting to show affection? Well, he couldn’t blame the bat. He still hardly knew Leonardo.

The three of you continued down Arkham’s many stairs, until you came to the boiler room. Walking into the middle of the room, Batman suddenly stopped behind you and Leo, his attention turned to the side of the room as he listened.

“What is it?”, Leo asked, noticing the sudden shift in attention.

“Someone’s here”, was all the bat said, making it shiver down your spine.

“Can you please stop saying it like that?”, you asked, rubbing your arms to calm the shiver. “Nothing good happens when you say it like that”.

That was when something flashed above your head, moving swiftly in the shadows. Black feathers fell from above, landing before your feet. Leo watched the movement before flicking his katana slightly out from its saya, using his thumb. That was when whatever that had moved in the shadows landed before you.

“Hello, Batman”, said the being covered in feathers. “I was afraid you wouldn’t show up. Though not as afraid as you’re going to be”.

“Dr. Jonathan Crane”, Batman told Leo.

“Calls himself Scarecrow”, you added.

Leo couldn’t help himself. He turned his head towards you, one brow raised. “Really?”

Scarecrow let out a cry, before flying towards you, causing all three of you to jump out of the way, just before Scarecrow’s claws could skim the floor, just where you had been standing. You stumbled on the ground, having a hard time finding your footing.

“Watch out”, Batman called out from the other side of the room, as he started to cover his face with his cape. ”He has a fear gas that can make you see things that aren’t real”.

Leo looked up, seeing Scarecrow hover before flying directly at your turned back. Batman saw the same thing, calling out your name as he launched forward, all stoic features gone from his face, and now replaced with fear.

“(Y/N), watch out!”

You started in shock at Batman. He never used your real name whenever you were in costume. It was an unspoken rule. When in costume, you were (H/N), just like Bruce was Batman. Just like Damian was Robin, and just like Barbara was Batgirl. You could not think, shocked that he used your name while Leo and the Scarecrow was around. Leonardo however, not thinking further about the name he had just heard, ran and pushed you out of the way, just as the Scarecrow threw a gas that made him choke on his own breath.

Leo fell down on all four, coughing as he tried to breath. He opened his eyes, watching in horror as the boiler room changed around him. He stood and turned, taking in the warping world around him. Until he saw his brothers. The Scarecrow looming over them. Leo yelled, his heart in his throat, telling them to get out of there. Then the Scarecrow opened his wings, sending furth an army of crows, swarming his brothers. Leo watched in fear as the crows poked at his brothers, tearing them apart. Leo could not hear their screams, but he could see it in their eyes. They were hurting. His brothers were hurting. His best friends. His one and everything. The reason he lived and fought to be a leader. They were hurting.

It happened so fast yet it felt like an eternity. The crows formed into a black mass surrounding his brothers. They disappeared, leaving behind three dried bodies. Raph, Donnie and Mikey. His brother dead before his very eyes.

Leo’s breath was erratic. He fell to his knees before clutching Mikey’s dried hands in his. His fear and horror only grew as wind picked up, turning all three of them into dust. Leo yelled, screaming at the top of his lungs before falling back to the ground.

“That’s right”, Scarecrow's voice sounded in his ear. “Everyone is gone, and it’s all your fault”.

“Leo?”

Leonardo’s heart almost stopped at the sound. So weak, fragile, scared.

“Or, almost everyone”, Scarecrow sounded yet again.

Shaking in fear, Leo turned to see you on the ground, shaking in fear. Your legs had given out, your arms working to get you moving as far away as possible.

“(H/N)?” Leo stood, walking towards you, only for you to scream and scrabble further away.

“Stay away!”, you yelled, tears pooling in your eyes, your voice cracking. Leo was confused, his heart breaking a bit as you right tried to get away from him.

“(H/N)?! What’s wrong?!” Leo was growing more and more desperate with each passing second. First his brothers and now you.

“Don’t look at me!”, you started screaming, covering your face trying to hide from him. “Don’t look at me!”

“Tell me what’s wrong, (Y/N)!” Leo was surprised to hear himself use the name Batman has just used.

“You’re eyes!” You were crying. Leo felt a pain in his chest at your words. You were scared of his eyes. You were scared of him. “Please don’t look at me! I beg you! Don’t look at me!”

Desperately he tried to reach for your hand, but you screamed, pushing back trying to get away from him. Leo wanted to cry, he wanted to yell and scream at you. To tell you were hurting him. You were crying and Leo didn’t know what to do. He was paralyzed, frantically trying to get you to look at him. So frantically, that he did not notice the Scarecrow came and pulled you away.

“No!”, Leo yelled, standing to run towards you, only to be surrounded by Scarecrows, taunting him. His brothers were dead because of him. You feared him. It was all his fault. It was all because of him.

“Leonardo”. Leo turned to see a lone Scarecrow with you hiding behind it. Leo’s blood boiled. “Listen to my voice”.

Batman ducked as Leonardo came after him with his katana in hands, fear and anger in his eyes. It was different from the eyes that had looked at you a moment ago. Fear and sadness. They were nothing like the blue eyes that you had found yourself spending so many thoughts on.

“You killed them! You took her!”, Leo yelled, slashing out his katanas at what he saw as the Scarecrow. But Batman continuously dodged the sharp blades, hearing all of your gasps as you watched on helplessly.

“I don’t know what you’re seeing”, Batman said. “But it’s not real”.

“You’ll pay for what you did!”, Leo yelled, slamming his blades against the pipes they passed.

“Your anger won’t help your brothers”, Batman said. “And it won’t save (Y/N)”. Batman jumped and rolled, before kicking Leo in the back, bringing him to the ground. You gasped, ready to jump in, but Batman signed at you to stay out of it. “You have to focus! Fight it!”

Leo sat on the ground, in a trance-like state. His normally beautiful eyes wide, as he held his katana extended out in front of him. Then suddenly he turned, swinging his katana through the air and hitting Scarecrow. The flying mutant fell groaning to the ground, as Leo braced himself against his katana, fighting to regain his breath.

Batman walked up to Leo, pulling a small pink liquid and needle from his utility belt. “The antidote to Crane’s gas”, he said as he injected Leonardo through the shoulder. “It should wear off quickly”. And so it did.

In the blink of an eye, the boiler room turned back to normal. The irrational fear left Leo’s mind, and he could finally breathe normally again. He saw as you came to his side, all though hesitant in your steps. It poked in Leo’s chest yet again. He had indeed scared you, just like the fear gas had made him believe. But now you looked him in the eyes, as if you never had been scared of them. Leo wondered if you ever actually had been scared of them. And with that thought he remembered his reaction. How he had reacted to the fear of you not wanting to see his eyes. He felt embarrassed, ashamed. He had had no control over his actions, with no regards for how it may have affected you. Yes, he had been affected by Crane’s gas, but to Leo, that was no excuse. He had to do better than that.

As if you had been able to read his mind, you placed a comforting hand on his shoulder, your eyes never leaving his beautiful blue ones. The ones that you were just happy to see again. Leo placed a hand over yours, enjoying the feeling for a moment.

Batman watched the two of you for a second, before speaking up, once again ripping you out of whatever thought you had been having. Your hand falling off of Leo’s shoulder, causing him to feel what could only be described as disappointment.

“Let’s move”, Batman said, directing the two of you back towards the door and out of the boiler room.

#tmnt #teenage mutant ninja turtles #tmnt leonardo #tmnt leo #tmnt donatello #tmnt raphael #tmnt michelangelo #tmnt raph #tmnt donnie #tmnt mikey #tmnt x reader #tmnt x you #tmnt x y/n #batman vs tmnt #batman vs teenage mutant ninja turtles #tmnt vs batman #batman vs tmnt leo #batman vs tmnt donatello #batman vs tmnt leonardo #batman vs tmnt raph #tmnt 2019 #batman vs tmnt x reader #batman vs tmnt raphael #batman vs tmnt donnie #batman vs tmnt mikey #batman vs tmnt michelangelo #tmnt leo x reader #tmnt leonardo x reader #batman vs tmnt leo x reader #batman vs tmnt leonardo x reader

[frozenjokes]

CuteGuy Would Prefer Greatly If HotGuy Never Ever Had Any Nice Things, But Especially Not His Good Friend And Roommate Cubfan135 (2/3)

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Grian, as CuteGuy, landed softly on the other side of the parking lot, tucking his wings non-threateningly at his back. Calm. Cool. Relaxed. He hadn’t been home when Cub left to meet HotGuy, but Grian knew well enough Cub would be timely, and with any luck, a little early. With no one in the empty parking lot, Grian wasn’t entirely sure what to do with himself, but he didn’t have to wait long before he spotted Cub down the street, absorbed in his music as always. Sure enough, Cub didn’t even notice CuteGuy as he entered the parking lot, only spotting him after sitting down on the curb and looking up, presumably for HotGuy. 

It didn’t feel tense when their eyes met. Cub didn’t look afraid. Part of Grian was deeply relieved; he cared very little about how the world viewed him, preferring they feared him if they felt anything at all, but.. Not Cub. He didn’t want Cub to be afraid. The other part of him was worried; did Cub not fear him because he recognized him? Not CuteGuy the villain, but Grian, who he thought was staying out of trouble and getting help- and it wasn’t that Grian wasn’t trying to get help. He was getting better, really! He hadn’t gotten into any fights as ‘Grian’ in weeks- hadn’t gotten arrested in over two months! But no amount of therapy could keep him calm in tense encounters or high stress moments; thinking about how he’d make it right, how he’d get them back later. That did it. Those sentiments brought the air back into his lungs.

“Should I leave?” Cub asked, a healthy caution behind his voice.

“I’d rather you stayed. I don’t want to hurt you,” Grian forced his voice lower as he spoke, hoping Cub couldn’t tell, and cursed himself for not thinking to practice. He sounded stupid. And given the small quirk of Cub’s eyebrow, Grian didn’t sound sincere, either.

“I don’t want to hurt you, either. But I do have pepper spray. Just so you’re aware. And it hurts. I know this from personal experience.” Cub paused briefly in a silent debate with himself, “I was curious. Mistake.”

Grian chuckled, but he couldn’t laugh too hard, not when he was there, and not when he had also pepper sprayed himself in some sort of horrible solidarity. Bad day. Horrible judgment from all sides, mostly because they had no one else to look out for them, literally as well as metaphorically. Top five dumbest things Grian had ever done, for sure. Even thinking about that day was enough to make his skin itch and burn. But there was a fondness there too, the type of fondness you can only achieve by doing something incredibly, irrefutably idiotic with your best friend.

“I’ve been there. Not eager to go back, either, so I’ll keep my distance if that’s what keeps you comfortable. I’d like to sit though, if that’s alright.”

Cub shrugged. “Whatever you want.”

“You can say no.”

“I don’t know if I can.” Cub eyed him evenly, not unfriendly as was often assumed about him, but cautious, appraising. It was a little bit funny. Cub looking at CuteGuy, a fairly well known supervillain, the way he’d look at any stranger; gauging intention. Cub didn’t navigate the world under the assumption that everyone was out to get him, but he was also the kind of person that liked knowing, and a Cub in the dark was not a Cub at ease. Grian hoped he’d be able to get Cub to relax with him before HotGuy arrived, but that would be no easy feat, not as CuteGuy. Cub was smart; he probably suspected CuteGuy knew HotGuy was coming. This was not a chance meeting. CuteGuy wanted something. And Cub wasn’t wrong, not really.

“You can,” Grian tried, hoping again he sounded genuine, but in these forced lower tones, it was hard to accurately get the emotions he was aiming for across. Grian wondered if Cub noticed the oddness in his voice, and was immediately sure of the answer. But Cub wouldn’t say a word, not to the avian known for being quick to anger.

“Well in that case, I don’t mind,” Cub said, almost dismissive as he looked back at his phone. Grian couldn’t quite tell if Cub actually did mind or not, but he sat on the curb regardless, not too close, but not far either. Grian winced at the thought of being pepper sprayed. He wouldn’t see it coming, that he was sure of; Cub was very good at concealing his tells. “Just so you know,” Cub continued after a moment, almost thoughtful, “HotGuy will be here soon. I’ve heard you two don’t get along, and, well..” he trailed off, gesturing vaguely, but Grian got the message. 

“I don’t know about that,” he said, the line vindictively practiced, and Grian couldn’t keep the smirk off his face, “Heroes are fickle things. I have a feeling HotGuy will be late, if he even shows up at all.”

Cub nodded, though Grian wasn’t exactly sure what that meant. “What’s he up to then, if you know?” His tone was mild, almost monotone, but there was a mutual understanding as to what was going on here. Grian knew better than anyone that Cub knew how to play his cards, and that he wouldn’t sit idly in the dark if he thought he could get away with it. Grian couldn’t remember a time when Cub had judged a confrontation incorrectly, or pushed his luck too far.

“Poultry Man made a bit of a mess on the other side of town. Left a message specifically for HotGuy, and if you didn’t know, HotGuy’s been dying to chat with him. As if Poultry Man would speak to anyone.” Grian laid back across the curb, spreading his wings in the grass. “No need to ask. I was involved, of course. We look out for each other, Poultry Man and I, but I just wanted to make sure you knew exactly where HotGuy’s priorities lie. Believe me when I tell you that you’re far from the only man he’s chasing. In every sense of the word.”

“What did he do?”

“What?”

“Poultry Man? What did he do?” It was a perfectly amicable, almost innocently curious question. Grian knew better than to take Cub at face value, but his facade was rock hard, and Grian had no idea what he was actually feeling.

“Told me he was saving these nails and things, sharp, sturdy stuff, and that he was going to dump a whole bunch of them in various parking lots of government buildings. They’re painted, of course. Like chickens. I don’t know how he was planning on leaving a message for HotGuy, but I’m sure he managed.”

Cub chuckled, which Grian didn’t expect, expecting even less for Cub to look genuinely amused. “I like that guy.”

“You-“ Grian felt his heart stop, or maybe beat faster, “You like Poultry Man?”

“Yeah. I kinda do.” Cub didn’t elaborate. Grian didn’t really expect him too, but he desperately wished Cub would. Well. He’d have to push for answers if he wanted any at all.

“I don’t understand how you can like Poultry Man and HotGuy. They’re like- complete opposites. Egg themed rebellion versus pathetic attention-hungry bootlicking, it’s not anywhere near compatible.”

“I wouldn’t go as far to say that I like bootlickers. I don’t.”

I know you don’t. Words Grian almost said, but couldn’t, so he settled on, “Well, given that’s basically HotGuy’s entire job, you may want to reconsider.”

“I don’t know about that.”

“What do you mean you don’t know? HotGuy is like the government’s top lap dog! He isn’t even that good at what he does- he’s just got a tragic backstory and a chiseled body, so the whole damn world can’t help but fall for him. He’s going to use you until he gets bored, then dump you, because he’s HotGuy and he can do whatever the hell he wants without paying the price.”

“I just mean that I don’t know. It’s as simple as that. I don’t know him. But I’d like to. We’ll see.”

“You’re going to get hurt.”

Cub threw him a critical side eye, the type of look a winner might wear, the type of look that let Grian know he had made a mistake. Almost agonizingly, Cub did not gloat or hold this victory of gleaned information over Grian’s head; he just sat there, silent, contemplative. He gave Grian nothing. No hints of his thoughts or feelings. Cub knew he didn’t have to. He knew just as well as Grian did that Grian would keep talking, keep losing ground, keep revealing too much. But still, Grian couldn’t stop. It was fine, fine that Cub knew he was emotionally invested in some way, but clearly this wasn’t working, so it was time for a pivot. Throw him off.

“I think you can do better. I think you deserve better. My hands are plenty dirty, but not any more than his.”

Cub blinked, looking up. There were a mix of emotions there that not even Grian could decipher, but the fact that he even bothered to look at all showed interest. “Oh?”

“Yeah.” Grian had Cub’s attention now, and he wasn’t about to let go, “You can play with heroes and see where it gets you, or cut the shit and have a little fun. Do you want to play games, or is it easier to believe HotGuy’s any different than me?”

“I don’t think HotGuy hurts people on purpose.”

“How many accidents need to happen before the people he hurts are a product of careless negligence. That’s what he is, Cub, careless. And no matter what he does, no matter how many people die under his watch, he will never be punished.”

“Good point.”

“How does it feel to put your heart in the hands of someone who’s above the law?”

“I think you’re making quite a few assumptions, CuteGuy.”

“I can see where this is going.”

“And you think I’d be better off with you? I don’t believe we’ve met, stranger. If I didn’t know any better, I might think you’re only here to spite HotGuy.”

“The things I’m telling you are true.”

“They are. And I’ll keep them in mind. But I’m not looking to trade out one interest for another, so you don’t have to pretend like you care.” Cub turned back to his phone. Grian gritted his teeth behind closed lips.

“I think you’re cute.” Distantly, Grian heard footsteps, the fast, heavy footfalls of someone running very quickly. Cub heard them too, but he didn’t look up, so Grian didn’t either.

“I’m sure you do,” Cub said.

“I do.”

“Well thanks. I think I’m cute, too.” 

“He’ll treat you carelessly.” The footsteps were louder now, quite close.

“I’ll make that judgment for myself.”

“Hey!” HotGuy yelled from the other side of the parking lot, but apparently that was all he had in him, hunching over with his hands on his knees and panting. He jogged the rest of the way, chest still heaving, and spoke as he neared the curb, “Is,” HotGuy had to stop, not having enough air to form the words, “this guy,” another pause, shorter this time, “bothering you?” The last words fell with what looked like a massive effort, HotGuy, hunching again to breathe.

“Not really,” Cub said, not put off in the slightest. Grian didn’t bother to get up, only snorting as HotGuy caught his breath. Though that seemed to set him off, the hero jolting upright to fix Grian with a fiery glare.

“You know, I am fed up with you!”

Grian choked on his own laugh, “Fed up? You’re fed up with me?”

“I am!” if HotGuy understood Grian was laughing about his choice of words, he didn’t show it, “I can not believe you sent me on a wild goose chase tonight, when I told you I had plans! And why- why are you talking like that? You’re going to mess up your throat; I had to take tons of voice lessons to-“

“You know, I think we should go.” Cub stood up, definitive in his tone, but HotGuy didn’t move.

“Where are we going?” Grian asked, and HotGuy seethed; honestly, Grian was having trouble telling if he was legitimately pissed off or not. Cub fixed him with a glare of his own, which Grian was not expecting, and couldn’t stop himself from shrinking under the look.

“We aren’t going anywhere,” HotGuy hissed through gritted teeth, drawing his bow, and at this point, Grian was pretty sure he was actually angry. Cub had backed off considerably at this point, but behind HotGuy, Grian saw him stiffen, a far more real look of terror crossing his face.

“You can show me whatever it is you wanted to later,” Cub insisted, and Grian recognized fear in the way his voice lost all of its edge, but HotGuy clearly didn’t, not even turning around as he nocked an arrow. “No-“ 

Grian wasn’t about to wait around to find out if HotGuy was actually angry enough to shoot him, launching himself forward off the curb and under the line of fire as the arrow whistled by. He aimed to grapple HotGuy’s legs, but the hero had just enough time to retaliate with a weak kick, sending both of them stumbling in opposite directions.

Grian didn’t have time to look for Cub before HotGuy was closing the distance, and Grian had to roll out of the way to avoid another much stronger kick. He felt the boot graze his feathers, but HotGuy was vulnerable in the follow through, and slow; adrenaline didn’t change the fact he had run quite some distance, and in this state, it wouldn’t be long before he got tired. Grian rebalanced with a few beats of his wings, shooting forward before HotGuy could recover and sinking his claws into the hero’s shoulder pads, hooking his legs around his chest, and battering HotGuy’s head with his wings.

HotGuy yelped, spinning uselessly, but there wasn’t much he could do besides shield his face- at least, that’s what Grian had thought, but then he was falling- they were both falling, and Grian couldn’t even scream when HotGuy crushed him under his weight, knocking the wind cleanly from his chest. Blackness curled over his vision, but a glint of something sharp brought his sight back, just soon enough to see the wickedly barbed arrow in HotGuy’s fist, raised above his head.

“I promised not to shoot you.”

Grian was hardly aware of his own body as he moved, kicking up and connecting with something- he heard the crack of contact, but he didn’t stop moving, flipping back onto his hands and toes, with distance the only thought on his mind. 

“FuacKing-“ Grian saw HotGuy out of the corner of his eye, stumbling with his hands over his nose, “Avians. Flexible.” Blood fell from his fingertips; dark blood, always too dark. Grian never loved to see people bleed- it didn’t satisfy him, not like fear, not like bruises, but he especially disliked HotGuy’s blood. It wasn’t right. It looked sick.

HotGuy was breathing hard already, his arms holding a slight shake. Pretty bad, even for a human. Just how far had he run before to tire out so quickly now? But before Grian could make his next move, he was distracted, his eye caught by the lack of a presence, the lack of- 

A fist connected with his cheek, and Grian was violently reminded of just how fast HotGuy was, even this exhausted. If not for his wings to balance him, he would have been thrown off his feet, but HotGuy was relentless, throwing punch after punch before Grian could even hope to recover from the first. He ducked sloppily under the second, then the third, but the fourth grazed his mask, and the fifth landed squarely at the side of his head. The sixth was only dodged because Grian stumbled, and Grian didn’t even feel the seventh under his chin before he was nothing.

…

Being something again was more than unpleasant, especially being crumpled in all the wrong ways on the cement ground. Grian struggled to his hands and knees, but when he looked up, HotGuy wasn’t anywhere near him, brows hitched as he stared at his phone and paced.

HotGuy looked up at the movement, looking far more distressed than angry. “Did you tell him- tell him what this was before I got here? Why- why did you tell Poultry Man to- you made me late!” 

Grian blinked, first slowly, then faster. His face hurt. Shit, if he had a black eye he was screwed. And then he remembered. Cub was gone. 

He was too disoriented to lie. “Didn’t say anything. Just tried to keep him off you.”

A moment of anger flashed across Scar’s face, but it didn’t last, melting back into distress when he looked back down at his phone. “You must have said something. Maybe you didn’t mean to, but you must have- you- Why did I let you ruin this for me!” 

Grian grunted, his sense returning just enough to be indignant, “It was your idea, asshole. What, did he figure out this was a set up?”

“He wouldn’t have if you didn’t come early!”

“Whatever.” Grian stumbled to his feet on wobbly legs, trying to keep some amount of his dignity intact, “You’re an idiot and he’s whip-smart. Doesn’t matter what I did, he probably would’ve found you out regardless.”

“What?” HotGuy snarked, “Did you figure all that out in the twenty minutes before I got here?”

Grian couldn’t keep the sigh out of his voice. “Yeah, actually. Played me like a damn fiddle, he did. Couldn’t break through no matter what I did. This was stupid, anyway, but I’m glad I came. I hope he’s mad. Hope he hates you forever.”

“You- you’re so immature! You lost. Feel bad about it.”

“Y’know, I think I’m just going to let you dig your own grave here.”

“I- I don’t want to deal with this right now. I don’t have to deal with this. I’m going home. You suck.” HotGuy dug around in one of his pockets, producing a small envelope, “Take your damn money.”

Grian didn’t think he could get any more surprised. “You’re actually paying me?”

“Take it. And try not to be a pain in the ass next week, so maybe I can pretend like this was worth something.”

Grian stepped forward cautiously, like a mouse to a trap, then snatched the envelope from HotGuy’s hand before the wire could snap down. But HotGuy did not move, eyes glued back on his phone. 

Grian reminded himself he did not feel bad before taking off. 

Time to check the damage. Not at his apartment of course, no, he had a different location for nights like these. The money couldn’t have come at a better time; he was running out of foundation, and getting low on concealer as well. Given how badly his face ached at every corner, he had a feeling he would be covering up some nasty bruises.

#idiots fuck around and find out #hermitcraft #hermitfic #gtws #goodtimeswithscar #grian #cubfan135 #cubfan #grub #cubscar #hotguy #cuteguy #poultry man #grian is cuteguy and poultryman

[pajarinwrites]

The Perfect Set 01

➳ fem!reader x Jacob

➳ wc: 4.8k

➳ TAGS: volleyball player!jacob, college!au, best friends to lovers

➳ WARNINGS: drinking?, slightly questionable comments about women's bodies (but our Jacob stops them before they get to finish the sentence :D)

➳ AN: omg wtf this took so long, and i kept pushing it back and then i realised it's scheduled for zhongqiujie/chuseok even and i wanted to write a little special for the holiday and i couldn't finish because i was editing this because i felt terrible that it took this fucking long to finish in the first place

also, sorry to lucas, i'm sure he drinks his respect women juice every morning

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You could make out Jacob’s focused face from your position in the stands. No matter how many times you’d seen him before a match, you’d never grow tired of the expression he wore during warm-ups. The soft, lovely Jacob you’d known for most of your life suddenly seemed to become a whole different person. The kind of focus that shadowed his eyes and the intensity in his gaze reminded you again and again why the opposing team always seemed intimidated by his mere presence.

You watched him stride across the court, shaking hands with the opponent’s captain in front of the referee. Your heart swelled with pride once more as you remembered the team meeting at the beginning of the semester, where the players voted Jacob as their captain, unanimously. His expression had been incredulous and elated at the same, so very different from the one he was wearing right now. So very different from the one he had been wearing when he came climbing through your dorm window that night, close to tears in worry about not being able to fulfil his duties as captain.

He had big shoes to fill, true, Sangyeon had been a brilliant captain and wing spiker, but Jacob was going to be brilliant in his own right, in his own way. You told him as much, while holding him close and stroking his back lightly. He nodded solemnly against the column of your neck, opting to hold you a little closer in lieu of a verbal reply.

You’d like to hug him again now, tell him ‘see, didn’t I tell you, you’d be great?’. But you have to make do with simply waving your enormous banner and cheering him and his team on as loud as you could.

They win, of course they do. They haven’t done much else since the start of the semester. Largely due to Jacob’s tireless efforts at captain, the research that goes into the best warm-up and stretching routines, the extra hours working on stamina and reviewing game plans together. You’re there for all of it, where else would you be as his best friend? And he thanks you by giving you so much of his precious time, that he always had so little of, torn between responsibilities for his friend group, team, and university work. Not that you’re any less busy.

“You played brilliantly! Mrs. Oropeza would be so proud of you!” You great him in front of the changing rooms after the game. He hasn’t even showered yet, his bangs sticking to his forehead and his jersey sticking to his torso, in ways that leave little to your imagination. But his eyes are shining with happiness and with pride, and maybe a little bit with relief. That’s your Jacob, ever the worrier.

“Thanks! I flunked the toss in the first set to Juyeon. And I lost track off the court for a bit in the last. But the boys covered for my mistakes. I should practice my jump serve again, though. Im sure I can improve in terms of power.” You smile, listening to his excited explanations, his gaze still halfway on the court. Sometimes you wish there was something in your life you could be burning for so passionately.

“You’re always so hard on yourself.” He smiles at that, a familiar refrain. You’ve done this a million times after his matches, it always goes the same.

“Someone has to keep me in check. Especially now that I’m captain.”

“You should take more time to celebrate your achievements, though.”

“That’s what I’ve got you for, isn’t it?”

As if divinely timed, Juyeon sticks his head out the locker room door. His hair is drooping wet, droplets of water running down his neck before being soaked up by the towel he’d slung over his shoulders.

“Did I hear you speaking of celebrations?”

Maybe he was just eavesdropping, you decide.

“We’re gonna celebrate making it to quarter finals tonight. At Haknyeon’s at eight, you should join!”

“They’ve got better stuff to do than party with you knuckleheads,” Jacob jokes good-naturedly, “some of us care about our degree, you know.”

“I think your degree will survive one night of letting loose.”

“I whole-heartedly agree.”

“Great! So you can make sure our captain shows up for more than half an hour for once!”

“Get a shirt on!” Jacob exclaims, pushing his team mate back into the cabin. “Half naked! That’s no way to speak with a lady!”

“And where’s the lady?” You hear Juyeon chuckle at his own joke before the locker room door falls close behind the both of them. Jacob sticks his head out for another second.

“Will you wait for me?” He asks, as if this is the first game you’ve come to watch, as if you didn’t scream cheering slogans at the top of your lungs for one and a half hours, as if you aren’t wearing his name on your face, scribbled onto your cheeks with bright red lipstick. 

“Always,” you smile.

It takes Jacob all of fifteen minutes to come back out of the locker room. At this point most of his team mates have left, most of them stopping you chat with you. Other than the new first semesters, they’ve all come to know you as a permanent fixture in the extended team. Even though you reliably decline the offer to join the management, you make it to every game and most practices. Through Jacob’s friendship, you’ve picked up all terminology for the sport, and, through your constant support in research, you’ve gotten quite a thorough understanding of the tactics behind a play. Not to mention that you’re always front row when it comes to support and cheering. Juyeon high fives you as he leaves, reminding you of your promise to drag Jacob along to the team party.

“Who said anything about a promise?”

“If you actually get him to come, then I promise to get you free drinks all night.”

“Tempting,” you muse sarcastically but Juyeon seems to miss your tone.

“Yeah, it’ll be awesome, seriously. You two have really missed out on some great parties over the years!”

“The greatest part are usually the wonderfully embarrassing stories you tell of each other afterward. Plus the blackmail video proof.”

“And this time you can be a part of them!”

You’re not sure how to reply to the earnest expression on Juyeon’s face.

“Thanks, but I’ll stick to watching the blackmail.”

He only shrugs in response before sauntering off with one of the newer recruits for the team.

You spend your time scrolling through TikTok until a soft tap on your shoulder and the waft of a familiar aftershave alert you to the presence of your best friend. You look up, smiling, and are met with a similar expression on Jacob’s face.

“How about we go to your favourite café to celebrate?” He asks.

“Shouldn’t we go to your favourite place?”

“My favourite place is wherever you are.” He replies, as if it’s the most normal thing to say. 

You exhale unattractively through your nose as you two start walking in unison.

“Save your sappy pick-up lines for your girlfriend.”

“No girlfriend, as you know.”

“Alas, so you have to waste them on me.”

“I don’t think they’re wasted on you.”

“Ugh stop, you incorrigible flirt.”

“I’m not flirting.”

“So that’s why every girl I know has a crush on you.”

“They do?” You punched his arm at the excited expression on his face.

“Don’t let it get to your head.”

“Okay, okay, sorry.” Jacob laughed, rubbing his biceps where you hit him. “But don’t tell Juyeon. He’ll get sulky.” 

“Maybe you should give him flirt lessons?”

“I should. His idea of flirting is taking his shirt off.”

“Ah so he was flirting with me today,” you grinned sarcastically, looking over to your best friend. But instead of the expected teasing, you were met with a surprisingly serious expression.

“I think so. He’s been trying to show off for a while. Why else would he invite you to the party?” You were stunned into silence while Jacob held the door to your favourite café open.

“I thought he was just using me to get you to the party.” 

“That was just his excuse. He talks about you a lot.” You were floored at this new development, and your expression must have been betraying as much because one glance send Jacob into giggles.

“What’s with the disbelief? He’s not the first member to develop a crush on you.” You’re too preoccupied with sorting through all this new information to notice the way Jacob presses his lips together right after the statement, looking very much like someone who confessed something he’d rather not have.

“Anyway. What do you want? The usual?” You ignore his question in favour of returning to the can of worms he himself just opened. “So you’re saying that there are multiple of your team mates that are interested in me, right?”

Jacob groans, “I don’t know. Not right now, I guess. Juyeon was pretty clear about his… crush.” The words seem to pain him.

“But there have been several of your team mates interested in me?” You insist. He says nothing while studying the menu. You both know he won’t choose anything other than his regular iced americano anyway, so you nudge him none so gently.

“Don’t ignore me!”

“I’m not ignoring you! I just don’t know what to tell you. I guess, yeah, several. Over the years a few of them said stuff.” Jacob doesn’t turn around to face you during your conversation, opting to instead order for the both of you. You watch the barista being a little too touchy when giving him his change. She winks at Jacob. Your best friend really can’t go anywhere without being ogled. And you couldn��t be mad if you tried, you have eyes after all. Anyone, who’s ever exchanged more than three words with Jacob Bae, can tell that his kind demeanour, sparkling eyes, and fluffy hair are the stuff movies are made of. Heather here (as the name tag on her uniform informs you), seems to agree. As you cling onto your best friend’s biceps, she gives you a scalding glare.

“What stuff?” You ask. He finally faces you when the two of you make your way over to the pick-up counter. Jacob seems thoroughly unamused by your antics.

“I don’t know, dude. Just that you’re, like, cute or whatever,”

“Who said that?”

“Okay, time to change the topic,” he smiles.

“Why? Are you scared I’ll be mad when I find out what big, ole hunks of men you’ve been gate-keeping from me? What’s up with that, by the way? Are they all spineless or did you actually tell them not to ask me out?” His silence is answer enough.

“Jacob Bae! You are the reason none of your super hot athlete friends ask me on dates? What kind of best friend are you? Since when has this been going on?”

Jacob stews more in his silence but you decide not to let him get out of this particular question. He manages to hold out until you’ve both picked up your drinks and slid into your regular booth. Still avoiding eye contact like he could contract the plague from you he mutters ‘sincehighschoolorsomething’ in such a small voice that you have to lean forward and ask him to repeat himself.

“It’s not that I’m gate-keeping them from you!” He says in lieu of repeating his words, “If anything I’m gate-keeping you! You deserve better.” You heart flutters in your chest at the compliment, given in such a frank and matter-of-fact manner. Especially with how Jacob doesn’t even seem to notice how sweet his declaration was. He simply forges ahead in his explanation.

“You should see them, some of them can’t even wash their uniforms regularly. Do you remember Mark from algebra? I swear he didn’t even shower after every practice!” Jacob whines.

“Mark?” You near shout, the warm feeling behind your ribcage vaporising in a second from the surprise, “from algebra? Are you telling me it’s because of you that I couldn’t get a boyfriend in freshman or sophomore year of high school? And when I always encouraged all the girls that told me they had a crush on you, too!”

He blushes, “but girls are girls and boys are trash.” He says with such naïveté that you can’t help but laugh, all your righteous anger dissipating.

“That’s a valid point,” you concede between fits of laughter. “And, in all honesty, if you think they’re not good enough for me, then I trust your judgement.” You wink at him, but miss the way he flushes an even brighter shade of red as you take a sip of your drink.

“Anyway, the party tonight?”

“What about it?”

“Are you coming along of your own accord or do I have to drag you?”

He frowns, “But what about our victory tradition?”

You look at his petulant pout and cock an eyebrow. As important as your tradition is to both of you, you know that it’s also a convenient excuse. There’s a short staring contest between the two of you, but it’s clear that Jacob will cave first, as usual. He rolls his eyes as if there was important information printed on the inside of his skull.

“Fine! If you wanna go that bad, I’ll come along. I know that you can’t hold your liquor.”

“Awesome! You can pick me up later, I gotta go get ready.” You blow him a kiss that he pretends to bat away. “Be on time!”

“Maybe!” You reply, knowing full well you won’t.

You let Jacob into the tiny space that is your dorm room at seven fifty-five sharp, dressed in an oversized t-shirt that might have once been his.

“Is that my t-shirt?” He asks instead of a greeting.

“Who knows,” you reply getting back to your make-shift make-up station on the ground in front of your desk. Jacob plops down on your bed.

“Watch it,” you say, throwing him a piercing gaze through the mirror, “I was gonna wear that!” He gets back up immediately, looking at the mess on your bed.

“All… one, two… six of these dresses?” He asks.

“Don’t get smart with me. Obviously not. But I haven’t picked one yet. What do you think?” He takes a closer look at the heap of clothes and is immediately transported back to the last (and only) time that he helped you get ready for a party like this. He’d already been apprehensive that night, favouring a comfortable night-in with his best friend over a crowded, rowdy place of strangers. But the way your eyes lit up with the prospect of mingling made him cave, just like today. Of course, the party turned out less than ideal. So much so that it kept you from insisting taking him to another one for the better part of your university life. He should thank his lucky stars that it lasted this long. Jacob knows he could have refused you today. He could have insisted that he still felt uncomfortable, that parties simply weren’t his cup of tea. And you would have given in, easily and with the same smile as always, happy to spend the night lounging in one of your dorm rooms. Be that as it may, he also knows he couldn’t have said no to you even if it had cost him his arm. He just wants to see you happy, he thinks. And so he takes the red dress up first, ready to play stylist for you if it’s what you want. The dress pretty, but the neckline makes him a little nervous. Jacob puts it back down to look at one of the black ones instead. It glitters softly if he turns it in the light. He tries to gauge your reaction to any of the dresses by throwing a glance into the mirror but you’re completely engrossed in drawing a straight wing with your eyeliner.

It looks good, he thinks. And the glittery makeup would probably look really nice with the dress he’s holding right now. Just to be sure, he decides to take a look at the other three, holding up a dark blue piece and another black one (just how many of these do you own?).

“What do you think?” You say, directly next to his ear, and Jacob flinches, causing his shoulder to hit you in the jaw.

“Shit! Sorry!” He says but you’re only laughing. He gets temporarily blinded by the sparkle in your eye. Maybe you should cool it a little with the glittery make-up. He stutters, “Umm…”

“You good?”

“Shouldn’t I be asking you that?”

“It’s fine, Jake. Nothing a little plastic surgery couldn’t fix.” You’re rubbing your chin in such exaggerated suffering that he knows you’re fine. “I just need to know which dress I should wear so that we’re not even later than we already are.”

“Who’s fault is that?” He nags.

“Well, I would’ve hurried more if you had picked a dress more quickly.”

“I did pick a dress quickly.”

“Yeah? Which one?” There’s a split second in which Jacob feels self-conscious about his choice. He’s usually so adept at pin-pointing the things you’re going to like, but the way you look at him with your hair and face all done-up makes him falter a little. The next second, he’s almost mad at himself. How ridiculous of him to fear that you would ever think of less of him for his opinion, much less disregard it.

“This one,” he says, holding up the black one.

“Oooh, sparkles!” Is your only comment. You hold it in front of your body in the mirror. But instead of agreeing with his choice you look back at him again.

“What is Juyeon’s favourite colour?” The question takes Jacob so by surprise that he doesn’t even manage to stop himself from answering, “blue.”

“Okay,” you toss the brilliant, black piece back onto your bed unceremoniously and grab the dark blue one. You stare at him with those intense eyes and Jacob can’t help the thought that, as stunning as you look now, he prefers you with no make-up on. He only notices that he’s still staring when you clear your throat.

“Huh?”

“Could you turn around?”

“Oh shoot, yeah, sure,” he says, spinning around, glad that you won’t see how his face heats up. Maybe it’s your stupid make-up or the fact that you’re clearly getting ready with thoughts of Juyeon on your mind but Jacob is feeling like the air in the room has gotten a lot thicker. He wonders shortly whether he should tell you that he thinks you’re better than doing all this for a man, choosing your dress according to his preferences, dolling yourself up for Juyeon instead of for yourself. But when he opens his mouth to speak, you beat him to it, prompting him to turn around.

“Ok, done. What do you think?”

Jacob thinks he’ll be hard pressed to keep Juyeon, or anyone’s, eager hands off of you.

The two of you make it to the party only five minutes short of an hour late. Haknyeon is the one to open the door, letting you know where to find snacks, the beer pong table, and the drinks. He looks you up and down, making you wonder if there’s something wrong with your dress. Jacob steps closer to you, one arm on your elbow. He continues to stick close to your side, while you two get a feel for the place. There seems to be a game of truth or dare going on the floor of the living room and Jacob easily steers you away from it.

He hands you some form of alcohol in a red solo cup. You give it a sip, “ooh, it’s good.”

“Don’t let it out your sight. There’s not only team mates here, but also a bunch of people I don’t know well.” You chuckle.

“Ok, mom.”

Eventually, you loose your best friend in the crowd, in what looks suspiciously like a whisking away by his team mates. Possibly to get him to do a keg stand. You chuckle, thinking back to the first and only time you attended one of these after-match parties in your first semester with Jacob. The secret to why Jacob was so adamant about avoiding team parties was a less than stellar escapade with the beer keg in his freshman year that none of his older team mates would let him forget. Before you can try to go looking for him in a much needed rescue attempt, someone taps you on the shoulder. You spin around to be faced with Juyeon, in a leather jacket, open over a skin-tight shirt that leaves little to the imagination.

“Hey,” he greets you, “I didn’t think you’d show up.”

“You should know that I’m always down for a little get-together.”

He laughs, “this isn’t exactly the right place then.”

“Well, as long as there’s people I like around.”

Juyeon smirks, resting his forearm against the wall next to your head and leaning into you.

“Some more than others, maybe?” He whispers under his voice. You can smell the vodka-o on his breath but it doesn’t really bother you. You mirror his smirk, leaning a little more forward.

“The jury’s still out on that, but if someone were to get me a new drink, I’d definitely warm up to them.” He snatches your empty solo cup out of your hand immediately.

“I’ll be right back,” he winks, making a beeline for the kitchen. You bite your lips in anticipation of where this night might lead but your thoughts are rudely interrupted by a familiar voice, “You look silly.” Your best friend’s expression betrays another close call with the keg. His eyes, usually bright and soft, have darkened.

“Rude!”

“What’s got you grinning like an idiot like that?”

“Oh just this and that.”

“Is ‘this and that’ roughly 1,80 tall, mildly annoying on a good day, and our best middle blocker?”

“Don’t let him hear that, it’ll get to his head.”

“Men are trash after all,” your best friend says, his face still impassionate. You bump hips with him in an effort to get him out of his funk. “But some are a little less trash,” you wink at him and he finally gives you a smile.

“I don’t really know if I should feel offended or flattered.”

Jacob keeps you company until Juyeon returns with your solo cup, filled to the brim and reeking of alcohol. You take a sip and try not to grimace from the taste. Seems like he threw every type of alcohol he could find in the kitchen into one cup and topped it off with an inch of sprite.

“Thanks,” you say anyway.

“Have you seen the pond in Haknyeon’s backyard yet? It’s the second prettiest thing tonight.” He winks and you you can’t help but giggle. Behind you, quiet enough for Juyeon not to catch it, Jacob pretends to retch. The middle blocker holds an arm out for you to take and leads you to the garden. You miss the forlorn expression on Jacob’s face.

“I think Jacob’s best friend is super cute,” one of his team mates says, making the boy in question wheel around. “What?” He asks, incredulously, before he can stop himself. Mark looks over at him from where he’s changing. “Sorry, dude,” he chuckles, rubbing his neck awkwardly.

“He’s not wrong, though,” Lucas chimes in, “at our last game she was wearing that tight t-shirt—“

“Stop… talking, please,” Jacob says, still all smiles, even though the way his team mates are talking about you makes his throat constrict. Lucas seems to either not catch his tone or choose to ignore it. “Her friend’s not bad either, huge pair of—“

“Oh my god, Lucas,” Jacob interrupts. Mark is starting to look very unhappy with where he took the conversation. Lucas just looks confused at Jacob’s reaction. “What? Are the friends of your friends also off-limits now?”

“No,” Jacob replies in between deep calming breaths, “I’d just appreciate it, if you didn’t talk about women like that in general. No matter who they are.” Lucas seems to really work through those words in his head before he shrugs his shoulders, “Ok.” Jacob is almost certain he heard Mark sigh relief.

When you meet him outside the changing room, as you always do, you have no idea about the conversations that had just happened inside the locker room. You give him a big hug, which Jacob cleverly uses to stare down Mark behind your back, who had been lingering a little too long for his liking.

“You did so well!” You say, also as always. Jacob doesn’t have it in himself to negate your gushing praises today. “Thanks,” he simply breathes, with a smile. You walk home together, another daily ritual, except today you take a detour to try out a new café you’d been talking about for ages. It’s supposed to have super cute interior and be the new hotspot in town. Whatever that’s supposed to mean. He always treasures these small moments. You’re in the final strokes of your junior year now, and time is getting increasingly scarce between both of your academic and leisurely commitments.

“You find a table, I’ll go order,” Jacob says and you agree immediately, already on the lookout for one of the lounging chairs on the deck in front of the building. He makes his way inside, immediately glad you decided to sit outside in the sun. The huge glass front of the café makes the interior feel like a hundred degrees. He walks over to the counter and is surprised to be greeted by a familiar face.

“Mrs. Oropeza, I didn’t expect to see you here!” He greets the elderly lady. She smiles warmly, the same smile she’s always smiled, ever since babysitting him when he was little. It’s been a constant fixture in his and your life to run over to her house in the neighbourhood in search of freshly baked pudín, a place to watch Sunday TV volleyball matches or a shoulder to cry on over scraped knees. Once Jacob took up volleyball in middle school, she made sure to come to all of his matches. She insisted it was not only for his sake, but also because she loved the sport.

“Well, it’s grown so quiet in the neighbourhood that I’ve been longing for a chance to get out again.”

“So you started working here?”

“Just sometimes. It’s not hard work to man the register, and I enjoy getting to talk to people.” Jacob smiled at her warm expression. He didn’t doubt that her positive presence would do the café well. “So what can I get you today, cariño?”

“I think I’ll take a latte, and one homemade lemonade for my friend.” 

“Oh, how lovely. Are you two still as inseparable as ever?”

Jacob smiles fondly at the memories of the two of you together on Mrs. Oropeza’s old, orange couch, munching on her baked goods while watching cartoons. “Yeah,” he says, smiling fondly, “we’re on our way home from one of my games.”

“Ah, I heard you were playing the Tigers today. A terrible team, in my opinion. No sportsmanship.” Jacob chuckled at her committed interest in high school volleyball teams.

“Who said that?” He laughs.

“I did,” she winks at him while ringing him up and telling the part-timer next to her his order. He hands her the cash as she inquires about the outcome of the game. “We won,” he says, his chest swelling with pride a little. He was sure that Mrs. Oropeza had heard about how infamous their opposing team was for their power and endurance.

“Of course you did. I always keep telling you the setter is the centre point of every good team. He’s the game master, without a good setter, the rest of the team has an infinitely harder team.” Jacob only nods amiably as he listens to his old neighbours often repeated chorus. “And you were always a brilliant setter,” she continues, making his cheeks burns.

“I tell all the ladies at my book club, as far as high school volleyball goes, you haven’t seen a perfect set, if you haven’t seen Jacob Bae play.” At this point, the boy in question is sure that his entire face is bright red. He waves his hand in a throw-away motion while trying to dissuade Mrs. Oropeza from uttering any more praises. He’s lucky because she seems to sense his discomfort with being the centre of attention. She let’s him go with a simple, ‘say hello to your other half for me’.

next | series masterlist | general masterlist

#the boyz #jacob #jacob bae #bae jacob #jacob x reader #tbz jacob x reader #the boyz jacob x reader #tbz jacob

[rollforjackass]

okay so i reread the good omens script book trying to look up a quote i remembered and i kept writing down the things that i absolutely loved about it, so here's just a list of all the quotes and moments that rewired my brain chemistry

aziraphale sasses the hell out of crowley about his antichrist birth organization skills

aziraphale saying “oh sugar” instead of oh shit...

first appearance of everyday by buddy holly, we all know how that turned out

aziraphale doesn’t know how an ansaphone works. this was in the book too, but it’s still funny, especially considering how in radio omens he at least knows about caller id

aziraphale brought shortbread for the drive to the convent. did he think it was a date? please say yes

crowley asked aziraphale if heaven wouldn’t give him (crowley) asylum and aziraphale was going to ask him the same about hell

aziraphale says “what the hell” after pointedly not swearing earlier. hypocrite ass

aziraphale is fine with killing the antichrist himself but gets upset about the humans killing each other at tadfield manor....more tasty hypocrisy. he thinks he can only ever do the Right Thing but he knows it's Wrong when anyone else does it

“aziraphale is rather enjoying having the upper hand in the ideas department for once”

crowley says “dude. chill.”

“for a moment his noble better nature rejects the idea out of hand. THEN HE FALLS...”

“aziraphale is softening. they haven’t spoken in a hundred years: he’s realizing they are still friends.” gets me every time i look at it

why was shadwell in prison?? america explain

“i work in soho, i hear things” patron saint of soho confirmed

i still think that the neon halo blinking on and off above aziraphale’s head is the HARDEST that neil gaiman has ever gone and that we deserved to see it in the final cut

"michael: when your cause is just you do not hesitate to smite the foe, aziraphale." i'm thinking thoughts about the s2 finale under this lens; when your cause is just (saving the love of your life) you do not hesitate to suffer for pursuing it

“crowley looks back. he looks at aziraphale. above them, a beautiful starry sky. and crowley softens.”   jesus janthony christ.

“aziraphale is looking for someone. he spies a human statue dressed as an angel, with wings. it’s not him.”   GOD

gabriel about aziraphale: “i’m disappointed in him. not thinking like an angel.”

crowley “looks up, and talks to god, in the classical fashion.” see i really want a script book for s2 because i want to see aziraphale's expressions of faith plucked out a little bit more

crowley in the cinema: “he’s waiting for the end of the world. out of time. out of hope.”

the fact that crowley saw aziraphale walking down the street and left dagon on read is priceless

aziraphale looks hurt after crowley says he won’t even think about him

the music for the gavotte scene was recommended to be “i am a courtier grave and serious” from gilbert and sullivan’s the gondoliers which is PERFECT

“aziraphale is heading down the street, looking harried and as if he is carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders. which he is.”

sandalphon says “you know how we treat traitors in wartime?” to aziraphale and there was meant to be blood on aziraphale’s lips after sandalphon punches him. death to sandalphon

“why would you do this? we’re the good guys.”

aziraphale (resolutely not swearing): you. you B…AD angels.

“seducing women to do your evil will!” “i think perhaps you’ve got the wrong shop.” still the campiest line delivery i've ever seen

we don't need to speculate about crowley being in tears in the burning bookshop because according to the script he is canonically right on the verge of it

“right. i’m done. i’ve had it. i don’t care about any bloody angels or humans or anyone. i hate you all. somebody killed my best friend, and i don’t even care who did it. bastards, all of you.”   😭

when aziraphale is discorporated, his heavenly appearance is all his normal clothes but gleaming white

aziraphale: i have no intention of fighting in any war. “all angels on the floor turn and look at the angel who has said the unsayable.”

aziraphale can’t actually see crowley in the bar scene…he has no idea how wrecked his best friend is

aziraphale doesn’t take sugar with his tea. bastard

aziraphale crosses his fingers under the table when answering shadwell’s nipple question

aziraphale is wearing madame tracy’s pink motorbike helmet in the mirror of her scooter

they describe crowley’s suit in the burning bentley as “interestingly ripped”...........we were robbed of a crowley boob window moment and i'll never forget

aziraphale introduces crowley to madame tracy as “he’s…well, we’re sort of business associates.” you know, like a liar

aziraphale was fully about to murder adam. i don’t think i can stress this enough

aziraphale pokes himself to make sure he’s solid once he’s separated from madame tracy

aziraphale isn’t threatening crowley with the sword, “just making his point that he can do dangerous out-of-character things if he needs to.”

crowley: what if the almighty planned it this way all along? from the very beginning aziraphale: takes a drink from the bottle of wine

aziraphale looks like he’s going to cry when crowley reminds him that the bookshop burnt down 😭

aziraphale-as-crowley looks depressed 😭 he still thinks his bookshop is gone

the angels kidnapping crowley-as-aziraphale zip-tied his hands those dickheads

aziraphale-as-crowley: my friend! they’re kidnapping my friend!

the hit hastur gives aziraphale-as-crowley would have killed a human 0/10 wahoos

“the van with [crowley-as-]aziraphale in it drives away, and [aziraphale-as-]crowley tries to crawl after it.”   HEY NEIL I JUST WANT TO TALK

crowley-as-aziraphale says “what fun. i love a barbecue.”

i am literally ENRAGED that sandalphon was like “hell yeah you can hit aziraphale” to the minor demon who brought the hellfire i WILL throw hands

uriel calls it a barbecue too those fuckers

in the script uriel and sandalphon have their flaming swords drawn, so it wasn't going to be as insidious as expecting aziraphale to walk into the flame of his own volition. but they didn’t end up including it in the show, so it is that insidious after all

aziraphale-as-crowley keeping his socks on for the bath was such a choice

“he doesn’t actually have a newspaper and a cigar, but damn, he’s enjoying himself in his bath” 

i've seen so little talk about how absolutely ice cold aziraphale is in the bath scene with the whole “so you’re probably thinking, ‘if he can do this, i wonder what else he can do’? and very, very soon, you’re all going to get the chance to find out.” BECAUSE THAT SHIT IS TERRIFYING

aziraphale-as-crowley: michael. duude.

crowley and aziraphale both get out of their own elevators and meet up to walk out together which is poetic cinema

PIGBOG AND THE OTHER MOTORCYCLE IDIOTS THAT HUNG OUT WITH DEATH WERE GOING TO BE INCLUDED i miss them

#suffice it to say i've been on a deep dive #part of the reason i love the book so much is just all the little details that a tv show just can't spare the time for #and the script has so many lovely little tidbits that make me rewatch episodes hunting for a scrap of their existence #like i was Looking for that shortbread man i remember that vividly #i'll probably look again later too #ugh ugh ugh what a time to be alive was season 1 #and if there's a script book for s2 you bet your ass i'll be deep diving again #good omens #oxly hollers

[sarifinasnightmare]

Knife Skills

Rating: Slightly Mature? No vegans allowed.

Pairing: Sarah X Bucky

Author's Note: I wrote this because I wanted to participate in the bingo and couldn't think of anything better. Please be gentle.

Summary: Sarah is going to best her cousin at the cook out and Bucky's going to help.

July 1-7: Cook Out

“You know what you’re doing, right?” Bucky asked Sarah as he studied the challenge lying before them.

4th of July cook out was apparently serious business in the Wilson house. Family members were coming, and everyone was determined to outdo the other person with some excellent cuisine. Cousin Whitney was about the same age as Sarah so naturally they’ve been in competition since the womb. Sometimes it was friendly, sometimes it wasn’t. During Easter she was flirting heavily with Bucky and Sarah had to put her in her place, letting her know that the super soldier was her man.

“It may have been a few years since I’ve done one of these, but it’s like getting on a bike. Easy.” She reassured him as she set out the knives.

“This isn’t a bike, Sarah, it’s a gator.” He said pointing at the 28lb reptile sitting on the plastic covered dining room table.

“Work with me, sugar. I need to brine this tonight so it can be ready for smoking tomorrow. Sam said you’re good with knifes so you can help me skin this guy quick.”

“I stabbed people, I never skinned anyone.” He quickly went through his memory to double check, then nodded.

“You said you’d help!”

“Okay, I did. Just tell me what to do.”

Sarah handed him a knife, Bucky gripped the handle, finding it comfortable and studied the blade.

“I’m going to make the first incisions. What you have to do is run the knife over the top, avoiding the scutes, all the way down the middle of his tail so we can peel the skin off like a coat. Start here where I made the first cut. Work your way down the center while I do the limbs.”

Bucky didn’t know how he was going to do this, but when Sarah needed him, he like a good boyfriend rose to save the day. He would’ve preferred a burning building to this but too late to back down now. Following her instructions, he began to carefully cut down the middle of the reptile.

“Don’t dig too deep. If you rip open any organs, especially the stomach, it’s over. The meat will spoil and I’ll never get the smug look off of Whitney’s face.”

“You know I’m not interested in your cousin Whitney.” Bucky said as he effortlessly ran the knife over the gator, peeling the tough skin to reveal the nearly white flesh underneath.

“I know,” Sarah said as she worked off the skin from the gator’s limbs, leaving the claws intact. “But she don’t know when to quit and if I can beat her stuffed turkey wings with MY Cajun smoked grilled gator then that will leave her pouting. That’s step one!”

“And step two?” Bucky dared to ask.

“Step two is me getting a mani/pedi while you watch the gator for four and half hours give or take…”

“Four hours??”

“…so I can look snatched in my pink halter sun dress with you by my side.” She continued. “Whitney is going to be fouler than Titi Gina’s barbeque chicken.”

“You’re wearing the pink halter top dress?” Bucky’s gaze got heated. “You know what it does to me.”

Sarah smiled smugly. “That’s the idea. I want your eyes on me at all times.”

Carefully he continued to slice with the blade, pulling the skin from the pink and white meat with growing confidence. “You know if you wanted to mark your territory, you could just sit on my lap and have your way with me.” He waggled his brows.

“I think that’s called lewd conduct. Quite unbecoming of an Avenger.” she teased.

“I never claimed to be an Avenger.” He retorted, then added saucily. “So if you want to claim me. Claim me.”

“Boy if it wasn’t for this gator…” She growled, then checked their progress. “You’re doing great! Now, help me flip this guy over.”

After a while they managed to separate the hide from the flesh and, in probably one of the weirdest things Bucky’s ever had to do, he used his metal arm to peel the skin off the body in one go. “This is so wrong.”

“Hush, now put the skin in that bucket for salting later and let’s carefully get the guts out so we can put the body in the brine bucket. Let me do it.”

“Gladly,” Bucky said as he made a face while putting the heavy hide into the waiting container.

They carefully disposed of the innards before having a mild panic attack as they struggled to put the gator into the brine.

“Do we have to keep the head on??”

“Yes!”

“It’s weird.”

“Oh Bucky. Grow up!”

“This will be delicious, right?”

Sarah glared at him. “Do you doubt my cooking skills?”

“Sorry, stupid question.” He looked around. “Looks like a crime scene.”

“Don’t worry, the victim will be delicious tomorrow.”

Bucky chuckled and dutifully helped her clean up before they crashed together, exhausted.

The next day, Bucky babysat the gator as it smoked in the grill then drooled at how beautiful Sarah looked all dolled up, hair and nails on point in her sexy pink dress. Whitney scowled as everyone raved over the gator meat and was too busy whining to realize that the triumphant couple had snuck off somewhere private as the fireworks began. Sarah pushed Bucky onto the backseat of an abandoned truck in their garage and staked her claim on her handsome boyfriend with mingling moans of delight. Bucky didn’t mind it one bit.

#sarah wilson #bucky barnes #sarah wilson x bucky barnes #bucky barnes x sarah wilson #sarahbucky #buckysarah #all caps bingo 2023 #sarahbucky bingo #tfatws #tfatws fic #in love in delacroix #fleur de louve #fleurdelouve

[brutal-nemesis]

E&T: Looking Towards the Horizon

It’s a-me Crisp Rat-Anyway hi yes this is real it is here sorry it took *checks watch* over a year 🤪 what can ya do. But it’s a chunky one so hooray 2nd longest chapter to date i hope it makes up for the wait a little bit (°ー°〃) have fun kids

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Ingredients: bones breaking, including a compound fracture, a little bit of gore but it’s rather vague, the usual noncon body mod being a thing that exists and those dubcon touching vibes, implied perceived threat of noncon kiss that is in fact not that, mention of butchering

Erebus didn’t think he’d ever been so hot in his life.

He’d suffered through the humid heat of the rainy seasons at home, preferring the hot dry season that came before. But now, with the late-afternoon sun’s rays beating down on him from above and the heat radiating off of the black sand below, he found himself missing the muggy humidity and torrential rains. He couldn’t believe Neteri expected him to fly out here in the desert, but it was the next logical step now that he’d built up more than enough strength to walk properly again.

He shot a glance at Neteri, who was wiping her presumably sweaty hands on the sides of her coat. She returned his look with an apologetic smile. “Sorry, I know it’s hot out here. Pretty, though.” They both gazed out over the black dunes of the Greikala Naman Desert, the towering cliffs behind them stretching out to either side, remnants of an old mine cutting into the rock face to their left.

“Still, not why we’re here. I just thought it’d be a great place for you to learn how to fly since the sand should help soften the impact in case you fall, and no one’s around to see so we won’t have to deal with people asking questions or you getting too self-conscious-”

“I’m not that self-conscious-”

“Hold these.” Neteri had taken off her glasses and was now holding them out to Erebus. He took them, confused as he watched her bury her face in her hands and take a deep breath. “You’re so self-conscious, Erebus,” she mumbled into her hands before lifting her face and replacing her glasses. “You’re like the most self-conscious guy I’ve ever met, okay?” She shook her head. “Seriously. You can be so dense sometimes.” Erebus opened his mouth to argue, but…no, she was probably right, wasn’t she? He couldn’t help it; he’d lived in an environment where people’s opinions and perceptions of him mattered a lot for the vast majority of his life. 

He cleared his throat. “Anyway, um…am I just going to start trying to fly now?”

“Yup.” 

“Okay…so, do I just, um,” Erebus flapped his wings hesitantly, “do that?”

Neteri shrugged. “Probably? It’s not like I’ve ever flown before. Really, I don’t think any other human has, especially not like this, so…you’re kind of on your own here.”

Erebus felt his face flush slightly. “Right.” He turned away, looking out over the vast expanse of dark sand. He-he shouldn’t be nervous about messing this up in front of Neteri, since she’d said it herself that no one had ever really done this before, but he still found himself proving her point about him being self-conscious to be spot on.  Closing his eyes, he took a deep breath. Don’t think about Neteri. Just focus. 

Slowly, Erebus started to flap his wings, shifting them as he did in order to find the best angle, the one that fought against gravity the most. He couldn’t really explain it, but he just knew when he found it, something in the way the air pushed against the wing membranes feeling right. Neteri was probably taking-no, no, don’t think about Neteri, just focus. Focus on his wings, on adjusting them bit by bit, getting them in just the right-

“Woah!” Erebus’s feet left the ground for just a moment, but due to the shock of it he forgot to keep flapping his wings and fell back to the ground, stumbling and falling down onto his back. Still, he couldn’t stop himself from smiling. “Did you see that, Neteri? I-I was-I was in the air!”

Neteri smiled back, extending a hand to help him up. “I saw! I’m sure you’ll do even better next time.” He took her hand and stood, some part of him…excited to try again, to possibly succeed, to actually fly. Once she’d backed up enough, he tried again, able to find the correct angle faster than last time. Soon enough he was in the air again, actually staying in the air, rising higher bit by bit, but…how was he supposed to go forward? Maybe by moving his wings like-nope, down into the sand he went. It did help cushion his fall, just like Neteri said it would, so he was ready to try again right away.

Over and over, higher and higher, faster and farther, his take-offs getting smoother and his landings resulting in less scrapes and falls, and he was doing it, actually flying. He was rather clumsy still, but he ignored the burning in his muscles and lungs and kept trying. The feeling of freedom, of actual control over something was far too intoxicating for him to do anything but reach for it again and again.

But when he ended up falling gracelessly into the sand, his head spinning and breathing short, he realized he may have been pushing himself a bit too hard. Attempts at sitting up were met with waves of dizziness too strong for him to overcome.

“Hey, are you alright, Erebus?” Neteri knelt by his side, turning him onto his back as she felt his forehead. “You’ve been using a lot of magic to help you fly, huh? I was trying to keep an eye on your condition, but you were taking off again so quickly that I figured you were alright. Sorry about that. Here, let me give you some of my magic power.” She removed her glasses and took his hand, pulling him slightly. “Sit up, Erebus.” Shakily, he did so, his ears ringing as the world spun around him. But Neteri, she, she was moving towards him, moving her face towards his, like she was going to-

Erebus collapsed backwards onto the sand, resisting the urge to scramble away as she looked down at him in concern. “I’m sure you’re dizzy, Erebus, but I promise you’ll feel better if you let me do this, and, well…it’ll be less awkward if you’re sitting up for it, yeah?” 

He desperately shook his head. “I-if that’s-that’s what’s going to-to-I don’t want it so-so please just-” 

Neteri cocked her head. “What do you-” A look of understanding, and slight horror, dawned on her face. “Oh, no, no, no, Erebus, I wasn’t going to-that’s not how we-” She sighed. “I suppose I shouldn’t have expected you to be familiar with how magic power is shared between wizards, seeing as you aren’t one yourself. Here, sit up, I promise it’s nothing like that.” Feeling he didn’t have much choice but to trust her, Erebus sat up once more, resisting the urge to flinch back as she leaned towards him, eventually just squeezing his eyes shut.

He felt her forehead and nose press against his, but that was where the contact ended.  “It’s alright, Erebus, this is it. Just breathe deep, in and out. When we share magic, we do it by sharing breath like this.” Erebus felt a puff of air on his cheek as she laughed a little. “It’s always a little awkward the first few times you do it, but after a while it’s just as normal as shaking hands.” 

“Huh.” It was a little awkward, but he was sort of used to Neteri touching him however and wherever she wanted that he was mostly numb to it all by now. Well, not numb but…he was okay with it. “Why…why is it done like this?”

“Because sharing breath is sharing life, and magic is life. Well, I mean, magic isn’t what makes us alive, but, like…magic power comes from your life force. The bond between your body and soul. That’s why you get weak and start bleeding if you use too much magic power, because the bond grows weaker, and…you’re closer to death. The bond grows stronger again over time, obviously, or else all wizards would die pretty young.” She laughed a little. “But…if you use too much all at once, it can kill you. Like, there are some spells that one person can’t do alone because they require so much energy that it would kill the caster. Not to mention that some require different elements of magic working together, but that doesn’t have anything to do with the amount of energy needed.” There was silence for a few moments. “Sorry for just dumping all of that on you-”

“No, it’s okay, I asked.” It felt weird having a conversation with their faces together like this, but Erebus wasn’t about to lean away since it did seem to be working. And…maybe talking was better than just sitting like this in silence. “It’s weird how little I really know about magic. I mean, I know a lot of what it’s capable of, but…I never really knew just how it worked or anything.”

“Well, it’s not like you’d need to know it to run a kingdom, right? You can’t use it yourself, so it’s not really something you’d have needed to know. But, for me, things you don’t need to know are the most fun to learn about, ‘cause then it’s all about learning for the sake of it.” She shifted slightly, her breath coming out differently for a moment, like maybe she was smiling now. “Curiosity is a wonderful thing, really. We’ve made so many advancements because of it, and, really, it’s why I’m doing what I’m doing now.”

Erebus sat back against his better judgment, gulping as he opened his eyes to look at Neteri. “I-is that why you did all of this to me? Because you were curious?”

“No, I-” Neteri sighed, closing her eyes and shaking her head as if to clear it before putting her glasses back on. “That came out wrong. I was curious about demon anatomy in the beginning, and after so much study it led to-” She looked up at the sky, blue starting to fade into orange. “Look, why don’t you practice flying some more before it gets dark. You’ve got your strength back now, right? Just don’t go too far. And after that we can eat and…I can tell you why I’m doing this.”

Erebus stood, steady on his feet once more, and brushed the sand off of himself. “Fine.” He wanted to stay put, to protest, to not let the chance of finally learning the reason for all of this disappear, but Neteri sounded sincere enough, and he doubted standing his ground would result in him actually getting what he wanted. He’d waited all this time, so he could wait for a few more hours.

Besides, he wanted to try and fly again.

After a couple more attempts, he felt like he was really starting to get it, figuring out how to best move his wings and body in each different scenario. He was nowhere near feeling like he’d mastered it, but as far as the basics went, he was feeling pretty confident. For this next flight, he wanted to try and go high enough that Neteri’d look like a little white dot on the black sands below. 

As he rose up, he felt himself starting to get tired again, but upon looking down and seeing how much further up he’d have to go, he kept pushing. Going straight up was difficult, and he’d been finding it much easier to rise at an angle, sort of gliding, but he’d never tried going this high before. Neteri was getting pretty small below him, much smaller than normal, so maybe he’d stop here for now. He waved down at her, not sure how well she could even see him, before looking out over the vast desert stretching out before him, the sky above now stained with shades of orange and pink, making the dark sands below seem to sparkle. A feeling of joy welled up inside him, and he couldn’t help but laugh, the world around him so open, calling him to come explore, because he really could go anywhere now, and he couldn’t resist swooping towards the horizon, to fly as far as his wings could take him, to-

There was a harsh tug at the collar around his neck, and everything spun out of control.

Erebus began to plummet towards the ground as he choked, trying to get air flowing through his throbbing throat, flapping his wings desperately, trying to right himself befo-

Reality hit him, and it hit him hard.

Sand sprayed through the air as he hit the ground, grains taking his place in the sky before falling back down on him like rain. His arms were scraped and bleeding, little pockets of sand collected under the skin, but that stinging was hardly anything compared to the sharp pain in his legs. His lower left leg was roaring in agony, and his right ankle felt like it’d been stabbed through with a nail. Through the ringing in his ears, he could hear Neteri running over to him, shouting his name. He pushed himself upright slightly before looking down at his legs, hoping it felt worse than it looked.

All it took was the sight of white bone poking out of his torn pant leg for the world to go dark.

                                                            ~~~

Consciousness pulled Erebus to the surface all of a sudden, mercilessly dragging him back into his body. He jerked awake, crying out slightly as the pain in his legs returned full force. Neteri stood over him, and he was lying on his back in...the old barracks of the mine, on one of the bedrolls they’d laid out on the cots in here before going back outside so he could practice. She gave him a reassuring smile.

“Hey, Erebus, just breathe, it’s alright. You had quite the fall, and…not the best landing. Thankfully I know a spell that makes things lighter temporarily, so I was able to carry you here without much issue.” Erebus started to sit up, wanting to check the state of his leg, but Neteri pushed him back down. “No, no, I just finished cleaning the wound, Erebus, but I haven’t had the chance to heal you yet, and based on how you reacted to seeing it earlier…” 

Erebus sighed in defeat and laid back down. “H…how serious is it?”

“It’s going to take a lot out of me, but…I should be able to fix it. Most of it, anyway. You’re lucky that your t-no, you don’t know what bones are called, do you-your smaller leg bone? That’s the only one that completely fractured in half and broke through skin. Your…thicker leg bone is cracked, but not completely broken, which is good. The ankle on your other leg is also kind of messed up, but that I should be able to fix pretty easily.”

Erebus’s stomach sank as she kept talking, adding to the list of things she’s going to need to fix, the number of painful procedures that he’s going to have to sit through. “O-okay.” He gulped. Neteri didn’t seem mad at him, but…“I’m sorry I flew so far, I…I just got caught up in the feeling and I wanted to-”

“No, it’s alright, Erebus, I’m not upset with you. I told you not to go far, but I probably should have told you what would happen if you did. I have this ring, see, and when I wear it, it’ll pull your collar back towards me if you get too far away, and…I just didn’t think you’d be able to go that far so quickly so I figured it wouldn’t be an issue, but…I’m sorry.” She looked away as she apologized, but soon turned back to face him. “But everything will work out. I’ll get you fixed up and hopefully you’ll be able to try flying again tomorrow.”

The apology was a bit of a surprise, but Erebus wasn’t complaining. “So flying too far away from you so fast is what ended up making me…” Neteri nodded, and Erebus couldn’t help but sigh. He’d felt so free in that moment, but, really, he’d just been like a bird in a cage. One that flew straight into the bars. He couldn’t believe he’d deluded himself into thinking that he could actually fly away from all of this, even for a little bit. Just look where it got him.

Neteri gave him something to bite on and asked him to be still, and all he could do was comply and endure as she fixed the damage his naivety had caused. She started with the most serious injury, the bone sticking out of his torn leg, and he was already fighting back screams as she carefully worked the bone back into its proper place, but he knew it was only going to get worse. Memories of the surgery on his arm came flooding back, of the awful, fiery needles that stabbed through his bone as she worked her magic, and soon enough that same sensation returned full force, a dazzling array of stabbing pains surging up the entire length of his leg, paired with the sickening feeling of Neteri’s gloved hands probing around inside the wound, holding things in place as she lit them on fire, rearranging twisted muscle fibers and reconnecting ripped blood vessels.

At least, some of them.

Her hand left the wound behind, the pain telling him it was not fully healed yet. He shot her a watery-eyed look, and she smiled at him weakly. “I’m just going to fix your ankle up first. I had to use a lot more magic power than I thought I would just to get your leg bones fixed, so sit tight.” He swallowed and nodded, as if there was any other choice. The type and intensity of the pain in his ankle was much the same as it healed, and at one point Neteri had to hold his foot still so it stopped twitching in pain so much, despite his best efforts to keep it from doing so. At least he wasn’t tied down, able to grip the sides of the bedroll or wipe the tears from his eyes as he pleased. It wasn’t much to be grateful for, but he’d come to appreciate the smaller things.

Once she was done, Neteri practically collapsed to the ground, resting her arms on the side of the cot. Blood was steadily dripping from her nose, which she didn’t seem to register for a couple of seconds. After hastily shoving her handkerchief up her nostril, she sighed. “I fixed all of your broken bones, and I stopped the bleeding in your leg. I still have to…have to finish healing some of your muscles and close the skin back up but I…I just need a break.” 

Erebus couldn’t help but stare, now realizing what it meant when Neteri was wiped out from using her magic. “So you…you’re closer to dying right now? Because you used all of that magic power, your life force, to…to heal me. You…you put your life on the line to do this to me, Neteri, so why…?”

“Because I wanted to help people, can you believe that?” She laughed at the notion, her lack of lucidity almost making her seem more aware than ever. “I always thought anatomy was interesting, from the first time I saw my father butcher an animal as a girl.” She steadily crawled her way over to her bag, pulling off her bloodied gloves before rummaging through it. “I studied human anatomy, and then demon anatomy. I wanted to study dragons, too, but it’s basically impossible to get your hands on a cadaver, especially legally. So I studied humans and demons, demons and humans, and I got to thinking, what if demons didn’t come from dragons like we always supposed? What if they were humans to start? What if we’re similar enough to-” dropping the small package she’d pulled out of her bag, she laced her fingers together, “to become one?”

The silence that followed was impossibly loud, and Erebus ended up breaking it before he’d even fully processed what she said. “One like-like me?”

Neteri smiled dreamily, some of the jerky they’d brought along now clutched in her hand, the other wrapped around a familiar crystal. “Yes and no. What I really wanted to do was organs.” Her face fell, took on a coldness he’d rarely ever seen. “So many people need new organs. New limbs, even. We can only take so much from willing, healthy people. But demons,” she smiled, “demons can be butchered all we like. So I wanted to test my theory. Replace human organs with demon ones, see if they take. My proposal was accepted, but only if I made certain revisions.” 

Erebus could see in her face that she was coming back to herself, realizing everything she’d just said, realizing she couldn’t stop now that she’d started. And she’d promised to tell him, hadn’t she? “It had to be all on one person. Someone disposable. Seven surgeries, one part from each kind of demon. Things more tied to their innate magic. And that all was just to be phase one.” Her tone indicated that she didn’t plan on speaking any further. 

Someone…disposable. The phrase had made Erebus’s throat tighten. At the end of the day, that was him, wasn’t it? A prisoner of the Empire, branded as property and sentenced to live out the rest of his days in chains. His life could be thrown away without a second thought. But even worse than that…“Phase…phase one? What…what’s phase two, then?” Try as he might, he couldn’t imagine something worse than what he’d been through, so…maybe it wouldn’t be as bad.

“It’s…it’s the fate I want to save you from.”

“What?” Neteri was looking at him, determination in her eyes, and for a moment he wasn’t sure if her “saving” him was a good thing or not.

“At the beginning I thought this part would be easy. That my subject would deserve to…” she looked away, swallowing, “but you don’t. You didn’t deserve any of this to begin with, and I was too focused on my goals to see it.” She laughed hollowly before turning back to him. “I don’t want to freak you out, so…I’m not going to tell you what phase two is just yet. I promise I will eventually, once you’re out of danger. I just…don’t want anything to go wrong, and if you know what might happen if we fail…I just don’t want it to keep you up at night.”

“I can-okay.” What use was it arguing? Neteri was standing up now, putting her gloves back on, ready to get back to fixing him up, and this conversation was over. He laid back and tried to relax, but this was all a lot to process.

“Actually, Erebus…healing all this combined with the magic power I lent you earlier…I don’t know if I have enough energy to fix your leg and...do the other thing I need to do.”

“Which is…?”

She gave him a tired smile, leaning in close, her voice almost a whisper. “I’m going to remove the tracking magic from your brand.”

Erebus’s eyes went wide. “You…you’re serious?!” When she said she wanted to save him…he didn’t know what exactly he’d been expecting, but was she actually going to let him go? Was-was he really going to be free?

“Dead serious.” She straightened up. “I’m not going to get rid of it entirely, just transfer it to a crystal that you’ll keep with you until the time is right. It’s actually the main reason why I brought you all the way out here. Because I really am going to get you out of here.” A genuine smile spread across Erebus’s face at her words, as much as he was afraid that this was some sort of trick. But Neteri had always been honest with him. She’d hidden things from him, sure, but never outright lied, at least that he was aware of. “Thank…thank you, Neteri. Really, I-”

She shook her head. “It’s the least I can do. And I’ll do more to help you, I promise. But for now…is it okay if I save my energy for the brand and take care of this wound the non-magic way?”

“Yeah, that’s alright,” Erebus agreed, even though he suspected this meant he was getting stitches.

He was completely correct, but the gash in his leg wasn’t too long, so soon enough she’d tied the thread and bandaged his leg up neatly. She healed the scrapes on his arms, at least, since they were so minor that the amount of magic she used doing it was negligible, but the process of her cleaning the sand out of them first was far more painful than it had any right to be. Once that was done, they ate the portion of dried food they’d reserved for dinner, Erebus mostly making small talk while he thought through everything Neteri had said, hoping she was truly going to make good on her promises. 

He’d never been happier to hear her ask him to take off his shirt and lie down.

After he undid the knots of the special shirt she’d made to accommodate his wings, he nervously laid back, excited for what lay on the other side of the pain for once. Neteri told him that it would hurt, that it might be like being branded all over again, but he could handle it if it meant he was really going to be free.

He could handle it, right?

The burning was exactly like it was the first time, and before he knew it he was crying, biting back screams as Neteri slowly slid the crystal over his brand, igniting white-hot pain as it went, and suddenly he was right back up on that stage, rough wood pressing into the wounds on his back, all of his people watching, the collar tight around his neck, heavy chains on his wrists, the taste of blood thick in his mouth despite his missing tongue, the smell of burning flesh suffocating him, the Emperor’s almost bored expression as he pressed the hot metal to his chest, the sky above unfairly blue, unbearable heat overtaking him in waves don’t ever forget that you’re property now you’ll never be free you’ll never amount to anything more than a twisted science project everything you’ve studied and worked for means nothing and all you can do is watch as your very humanity is ripped away and torn to shreds and nothing will save-

“Erebus.”

Erebus tensed up, suddenly finding himself back in the present, Neteri looking down at him with concern. A rag was shoved up her bleeding nose again, but she gave him a weak smile as she wiped away some of his tears. “It’s over. I’m sorry it hurt so much, but it’s over.” She squeezed his hand, holding out the black crystal she’d bound the tracking spell to with her other one. He nodded and took it, numbly worming it into his pocket as he tried to crawl out of his daze. “Let’s go to sleep, then,” Neteri said as she started to pull her hand away.

“Wait-” Erebus sniffed, holding tightly onto her hand. “Please, could you…?” He still didn’t want to say it outright, but he hoped she’d get the message, and he couldn’t help but smile when she gave his hand a squeeze. 

“Alright. But let me get ready for bed first, okay?”

“Okay.”

She got ready quickly enough, even giving him something to help with the pain in his leg since she wasn’t going to be using magic on it anytime soon. Once that was done, she sat on the edge of the bed, holding out her arms and letting him bury himself in her stomach, causing her to laugh a little. “Would it be easier if I laid down? I mean, I have my own bed, but…I think I’m about ready to fall over.”

“T-that’s fine!” Erebus sat up quickly, scooting over to make room. He hadn’t been expecting this, but after what happened with his brand, he wasn’t complaining. Once Neteri had laid down, he cuddled up next to her, her arms around him so comforting. Before he knew it the tears he’d been holding back started to flow again, the horrible memories of that day still at the forefront of his mind. He’d mostly buried it under all the awful things he’d experienced since, but now it was all he could think about. Neteri mostly stayed silent, her hand stroking his hair and rubbing the base of one of his horns. After he’d started to calm down, she spoke up.

“You know, I’d never thought I’d lay like this with a guy.”

“Oh, I, uh-sorry, do you not want to-”

“No, no, it’s okay! I didn’t mean it like I don’t want to or anything, it’s just…weird? No…unexpected? Yeah. I never would’ve thought I’d do this, you know? Like if you told me ten years ago I’d be cuddling with a boy someday I would’ve laughed at you, you know?”

“Well, if you told me at the start of all this that I’d want to do this with you I would’ve…I would have been…” He sat bolt upright, trapped between her and the wall. “This isn’t…maybe I shouldn’t do this or even want this I-”

“Erebus.” Neteri took his hand, holding it firmly as she sat up slightly. “It’s okay to want comfort from me. After everything you’ve…no, after everything I’ve put you through, it’s only natural to want to be comforted, to need it, really, and, well… it’s not like you have anyone else to turn to. And I want to make it up to you, so, please, if you want to…it’s okay.” She smiled. “It’s not like anyone will know, anyway, if that makes you feel better.”

“But what if they did know, what if they all found out that I’m-they’d think I’m pathe-”

“You’re not a prince anymore, Erebus.” He stiffened like he’d just been slapped, jaw falling open slightly before he finally turned to look down at Neteri, his eyes wide. “You don’t have to worry so much about what everyone thinks of you. You’re not setting an example for anyone, you’re not expected to be a leader, you’re allowed to be vulnerable now, to want things without worrying about how you’ll be judged for it, to just be…you.”  She sat up fully, still holding his hand. “So if you want this, Erebus, it’s okay. Really.”

“I…am I ever going to see any of them again, Neteri?” he asked as his shoulders sagged in defeat.

She gave him a tired smile. “I don’t see why not. After we get away I can get you all fixed up, and…maybe you’ll be able to go home. Just as long as you keep it on the down low, it should be okay.”

Erebus smiled wide. “Okay. Thank you, Neteri. We can go to sleep now.”

“Alright.” She nodded sleepily, her eyes unfocused without her glasses on. She glanced over at her cot and bedroll before lying down and closing her eyes. Erebus hummed happily as he laid on her chest once more, his horn resting on top of her shoulder. As exhausting as today had been, he was almost too excited to sleep. The prospect of actually being free was…exhilarating.

Honestly, he couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt hope like this. For so long he’d been resigned to this life, the fate he’d been dealt, because he’d come to accept that escaping on his own was impossible and no one who’d cared about him would be able to save him.

For the first time in a long time, he let himself think about his friends back home, all the people he’d known and loved, of Lythia, and he remembered how they’d tried to save him. That…that was the last time he’d felt hope, the day he was whipped and branded and had his tongue cut off. Lythia had told him he was going to be rescued, and he’d believed wholeheartedly that he would be. And here he was again, being told he was going to be saved, and believing that everything was going to work out in the end. 

Last time he’d had hope like this, it had been destroyed right before his eyes.

Would this time be any different?

Next→

Tags: @dramaticcollapse @thehopelessopus @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi @galaxywhump @as-a-matter-of-whump @mnmlover2002 @tears-and-lilies @yet-another-heathen @rippedjeansandfadeddreams @starnight-whump @unicornscotty @thebewilderer @kixngiggles @itallstartedwithharry @inky-whump @redstainedsocks @lonesome--hunter @his-unspoken-words @susiequaz12 @its-mysweetlittlesecret-blog @whumpasaurus101 @patheticlittleguy @jadeocean46910 @whumpinggrounds @pumpkin-spice-whump @suspicious-whumping-egg @befuddled-calico-whump @whump-in-the-closet

#i wrote something #erebus & terror #erebus #neteri #broken bones #minor gore #partial nudity #dubcon touching #magical healing #magical exhaustion #whump #whump writing #what do i even say down here uh #life updates how about that it's been awhile #i have a boyfriend now ❤❤❤❤ he is very good and he's a GAMER #octopath traveler II did indeed consume my whole life for the better part of a month i have like 130 hours in it or something #and im still playing it some #oh i got into the ace attorney games a while back been playing them with the irls #as for e&t things...the usual 'this chapter turned out longer than i thought it would' #but i did add some shit that wasnt in the og plan #like erebus was just supposed to get a normal broken leg but when i was writing i was like nah a little gore 💅 for me #sorry if the fact that i havent written this in ages is super apparent i hope it's not like jarring #the way magic power is shared is based on the traditional māori greeting cuz i really liked the idea of sharing the breath of life #mmmm yes eat all that worldbuilding and lore everyone snack up!!!! #neteri motivation and character arc real!!! #erebus flying real!!! #and fun fact if you remember the fucking tiny erebus au thing the collar yoinking him back thing was in that it was foretold #we'll have to see when the fuck i get the next chapter out because oh boy. it's gonna be a whole thing #we'll just uh. have to see how this pans out. won't we :) because i wouldn't do the same thing twice (❁´◡`❁) i would never

[p-artsypants]

No, You Go First (7)

Ao3 | FF.net

For anyone wondering and lamenting about the angst and heartbreak coming with this development, I tried to keep it light. :)

And all marriage and wedding stuff is just not going to be historically accurate. They’re helmets aren’t correct, Berk isn’t a real place, so I’m making up the lore for that topic (based on what we see in the third film).

—

A few days into her engagement to Snotlout and Astrid was ready to throw herself off a cliff. 

Was that too dramatic? Or perhaps morbid?

Didn’t matter. He was just so…obnoxious. 

“And I told the guy, you know what I said to him? I said you mess with the Snotster, you get the horns! That’s what I said!” 

“And this was Tuffnut you were fighting with?” She drawled. 

“No, that was the last story. This was a totally different guy. A guy you never would have met.” 

“Right.” She smirked. 

She was trying. The chief had worked so hard to get the ceremony delayed, she figured she ought to at least try to make the time worth it and attempt to fall in love with Snotlout in the meantime. 

It wasn’t working, but no one could say she wasn’t trying. 

She spent time with him. Time she’d normally spend with Hiccup. That was the hardest part, of course. When separating herself from Hiccup, she also separated herself from Toothless and Stormfly, and at such a critical time in her training too! 

She tried not to think about that snowy afternoon in the hayloft with Hiccup either. It was for the best that she forget about him entirely. 

That was easier said than done, of course. Especially as he sat at the table across from them. 

“Snotlout, Astrid,” he said cordially. 

“Hey Cuz! How goes the Dragon Sympathizing?” Snotlout chuckled. 

‘How goes the woman stealing?’ “It’s great, thanks for asking,” Hiccup responded, bitterness in his words. He unfurled a large piece of paper in front of them. “Now, since I’m working in the forge, have design experience, and the gods apparently hate me, I’ve been assigned the task of designing your…” he sighed hard. “Your wedding home.” 

Wow, the gods really did hate him. 

“Oh really?” Snotlout said, with a disgusting curl to his lip. “Is that so?” 

“Yes. So do you want to give me helpful input, or do you just want me to wing it?” He smoothed the blank paper out. “And don’t worry, I’ve already planned two nice sized beds in different rooms.” 

“Haha,” Snotlout stuck out his tongue. He considered all of this, his mouth scrunching up. A very unused thinking face, if there ever was one. “I want a nice big basement. A place to spar and tame these bad boys,” he flexed his arms. 

Hiccup didn’t comment on it, just drew a box off to the side to signify the basement landing. 

“Oh, and of course, I want a giant metal ‘S’ on the front. For Snotlout!” 

“Or for ‘Stupid’.” Hiccup muttered.

“Shouldn’t it be a ‘J’ for Jorgenson?” Asked Astrid. 

“Or ‘Jackass’?”

“This is my house, Astrid. Not my dad’s.” 

“His name starts with an S too.” She argued back. 

“Okay okay,” Hiccup butted in. “Let’s talk about accessories later, once it’s built. Focus on the house.” 

“Well,” said Snotlout. “Make sure the bedroom can fit the biggest bed possible.” 

Both Hiccup and Astrid scoffed. 

“Hey, it’s not what you think! She kicks!” Snotlout pointed at Astrid. 

“I do?” She sneered. “How do you know that?” 

“Yeah. Remember that camping trip we all went on last summer? Me and Tuff shared a tent, the fish boys shared a tent,” he pointed at Hiccup. “And you and Ruff shared a tent.” 

Hiccup did remember the camping trip, because it was the first and last annual trip for his generation. He was supposed to share a tent with Fishlegs, but the boy took up the whole tent by himself so Hiccup had to build a lean to to sleep in. He ended up laying in poison oak and got a horrible swollen rash and got the trip canceled. Of course, that had been another blow to his popularity. 

“Ruff said she had bruises for weeks from you kicking her,” Snot explained. “So I want a nice big bed. Preferably one with one of those chastity boards that I can drop if she gets too violent.” 

Hiccup started laughing then. 

Astrid kicked him under the table. 

“Ow! I can see why you’d kick in your sleep! It’s muscle memory!” 

She kicked him again. 

Hiccup rubbed his sore shin and then lightly drew the main outline of the house while Snotlout and Astrid watched. He drew the area for the loft, and made a note of ‘big bed with board’. 

“That’s all I care about,” said Snotlout. “Astrid’s going to be there more often since…” he attempted to whisper, though it was still full volume. “She’s the woman!” 

“Thanks, Snotlout.” Astrid droned. 

“Anytime. You kids have fun! I got stuff to do!” He waved with a flourish. 

So Astrid was left alone with Hiccup to design her marriage home to another man. It started out awkward, but then it became kind of fun. 

“Do you enjoy cooking? Would you like a dedicated kitchen area?” 

“I think…if I had the space, I might try to cook more often. Mom’s teaching me to make bread, but my loaves are pretty flat.” 

“Bread’s not too hard. You must be kneading it too much, or not letting it rise.” 

“That’s what mom says! Wait, you know how to cook?” 

“Of course! You think my dad has time to make meals with all his chiefing?” 

“Hmm. I never thought of it before. I guess it makes sense.” 

“Of course, I don’t always cook. We often get food from other people in the village. Mrs. Sorenson makes too much stew, or Fishlegs’ mom brings a small shepherd's pie.” 

“Do you do the other chores too?” She asked. 

“Like laundry and mending? Sometimes. The other ladies sometimes stop over and pick up our laundry. I assume they think ‘I might as well do theirs while I’m doing laundry’. I do all the mending though. I made this tunic!” 

“Not surprising. I saw your leather working on Toothless’ tail.” 

“You know, I learned to sew from Snotlout’s mom. She taught him too. Told him a man ought to know how to repair his own clothes if he can’t find a wife.” 

Astrid snorted. “Are you saying Mrs. Jorgenson thought Snotlout would be single for a long time?” 

“Your words.” He smirked. “How about the bathroom? You want an inside tub?” 

Astrid’s eyes widened. “An inside tub? You can do that?” 

“I’ll put it under the stairs, and put a grill underneath so you can have warm water.”

“Now you’re spoiling me!” 

Hiccup smiled. “You should enjoy something about this marriage.” 

“Pft.” She shook her head. 

Together they planned out a dream home. It raised Astrid’s mood considerably. If she had to be married to a man she disliked, at least she was living in a cool house. 

Astrid looked at Hiccup, a big smile on her face. It was nice to spend time with him again. If she was lucky, Snotlout would let her continue to be friends with him. Then again, jealousy might ruin that. 

“I’ll take these prints to Gobber, and we’ll get to work.” 

“Where’s the house going?” 

“At the edge of the woods. If you’re lucky, you can sneak out to see Stormfly.” He dropped his voice to a whisper. “And there’s space for a stable for her when the time comes.” 

“Thank you, Hiccup. That’s so cool.” 

He beamed at her. “Anything for you, Milady.” 

—-

They were getting away from Berk for a few days. The village thought Hiccup and Stoick were going for a father-son bonding camping trip, but really, they were going on a secret scouting mission on dragon back. The idea had been passed back and forth a few times, that maybe the reason they hadn’t been able to find the dragon’s nest with the boats was because only a dragon could find it. It was Hiccup’s thought, and he had just been able to convince his dad that a two man scouting mission was better than introducing Toothless to the tribe as a compass. 

And getting away from Berk for a while would be a good distraction from Astrid.

“Remember dad, keep it light.” 

“Aye lad. I was about to say the same thing.” He checked over his pack, as Hiccup peaked over. 

“You don’t need the flint.” 

“Oh. Right! That will be convenient.” He took it out. “I packed a knife. Are they going to be alright with that?” 

“Toothless trusts you now. You can bring your hammer too, if you want.” 

Stoick considered it, and decided to take it with him, just in case. 

They left early in the morning, before people could see how little they were taking with them. 

“You think Astrid will mind that I’m taking Stormfly?” Asked Stoick.

“I asked her, and she’s thrilled that Stormfly gets to go on the trip. The poor Nadder doesn’t get off island a lot these days.” 

Stoick nodded. “Astrid’s been rather busy. She brought over some soup two nights ago.” 

“She did? Why didn’t I get any?”

“You got dinner with the other men working on the house, didn’t you?” 

“Yeah…I guess…was it good?”

Stoick smirked. “You want to know what Astrid’s cooking was like?”

“I asked, didn’t I?”

Stoick chuckled. “That you did. It tasted a lot like your mother’s cooking.” 

“That good?”

“Son, your mother was known for her kind heart and good looks…not her cooking.” 

Hiccup snorted.

They reached the cove, and Toothless and Stormfly started dancing around, full of energy and excited to see them. 

“Hello, pretty girl,” Stoick said cautiously, petting Stormfly’s snout. “You’ve seen me a few times. I’m no Astrid, but do you think I could fly you for a while?”

Stormfly squawked and lowered herself so he could mount her. Hiccup brought over a saddle. “Here, don’t want to get a sore butt.” 

“Thanks son.” 

Hiccup helped him strap the saddle on, before climbing on Toothless. “You think you can handle your first solo flight being a long one?” 

“Astrid seems to have whipped this Nadder into shape. As long as she cooperates with me, we’ll get along great.” 

“Sometimes I think you’ve made great progress accepting the dragons, and then you say things like that.” He took off. 

“What? What did I say wrong?” Stoick called back. He gave Stormfly a little pat, like Hiccup had instructed, and she took off into the air. 

Once Stoick caught up to Hiccup, they started their journey in earnest. 

“So,” said Hiccup. “Where are we going?”

“The raids come from the North. I think that’s where the Nest is. Hopefully as we get close, the dragons will take us right there.” 

“And we’re not going to hurt them, right?”

“I’m certainly not taking the nest by myself.”

“I’m here.” 

“What are you going to do to a dragon? Let them eat you so they can choke on you?”

“Ouch, but fair.”

“This is a scouting mission, first and foremost.” 

Hiccup nodded, trying not to think too much about what was so uncertain. What were they going to find at the nest anyway? It was a nest, after all. Were they storing it all for winter like the Vikings did? Maybe they’d find a bunch of babies. Then he’d feel really bad. 

Hiccup wanted to end the raids. But he didn’t know if he wanted to do what it took to end them. 

“You’ve been busy lately,” Stoick noted. “Between studying the dragons on the island and forge work, I rarely see you.” 

“I’m trying to keep busy. Besides, Snotlout and Astrid’s house isn’t going to build itself.” 

“We put up houses overnight. You don’t need to work so hard on it.” 

“I want it to be nice for her…and Snotlout.” He added as an afterthought.

“Should I invite some of our allied chiefs with young daughters to come and meet your acquaintance?” 

Hiccup frowned. “No. And I don’t really want to talk about my love life anymore.” 

“Fair enough.” Stoick gave a respectful nod. Then, after a few moments of silence, he added, “knowing Snotlout, he won’t live to see 20. You can have Astrid when she’s a widow.” 

“DAD!” 

They flew on and on. Conversation hadn’t been easy for them for many years, but since that fateful night before the snowfall, when Hiccup had just shot Toothless down, their relationship had started to improve. Stoick was still a Viking with years of dragon slaying under his belt. While Hiccup was a boy filled with ideas of things that were—well, not dragon slaying. Bridging the gap between the two was difficult. 

So it was no surprise that they flew for an hour without a single word exchanged. 

“Hmph,” Stoick grunted eventually. 

“You say something, dad?” 

“Just thinking,” Stoick peered over Stormfly’s side. “The ice on the sea is pretty thick. I don’t know if we could’ve gotten a ship up here even in the summer.” 

“Then if we are close to the nest, it would make sense, right? Go where the ugly pink things with pointy sticks can’t go.” 

“Who’re you callin’ ugly?” 

“Not you, obviously. I meant all the other vikings.” 

Stoick snorted. “A fair theory…if you throw out the idea of them migrating for winter.” 

“Maybe they just…hunker down?” 

“Perhaps.” Stoick took a compass out from his saddle bag. “We’re still heading north. I would have thought we would have reached the nest by now.” 

“Do you think we’re off course?” 

“Hard to tell what the right course is in the first place. We’ll go a bit further, and then take a wide loop back.” 

“Looks like a bit further is fog.” Hiccup pointed. 

Stoick narrowed his eyes. It sort of looked like the fog he encountered at Helheim’s gate. “Maybe we aren’t so off course after all. Let’s see if we can get above it.” 

The fog was thick, and it was impossible to see the ocean below it. But it did have a top, and they rode over it like a boat in the water. The fog went on for what looked like forever, to the edge of the world. Hiccup’s heart began to beat faster, as a sense of unease settled over him. Somewhere in this fog, somewhere near, the nest of dragons laid. 

Toothless’ ear flaps raised, and he course corrected suddenly, making Hiccup jolt. 

“Buddy?”

Stormfly let out a squawk and likewise jolted to the right, focused on something. 

“Easy girl,” Stoick said softly, but deadly serious. “I think they’ve got the trail.” 

Hiccup swallowed thickly, the anticipation of discovery thundered in his veins. He had a horrible feeling that by time the reached the end of this journey, his life would be irrevocably changed, and he didn’t know if that was exciting or terrifying. 

Stoick and Hiccup flew side by side, with maybe one wingspan of space between them. 

They watched, with shock and awe as a figure breached the fog in front of them. A human in grotesque, animalistic armor holding a staff, rose in front of them, standing tall, proud, and unafraid.

If they were riding several hundred feet above the sea, what was he standing on?

Several deafening seconds passed before Toothless warbled. 

The person swiveled quickly, startled by the sound. Hiccup could not see their face, but they clearly saw him, and tapped the staff twice. The figure sank into the fog, only to emerge quickly on the back of a huge dragon, easily twice the size of Toothless. It was orange and had two sets of wings.  

“Toothless, it’s okay, it’s okay!” Hiccup quickly assured his dragon, but more to himself. 

The stranger and his dragon flipped backwards and dove back into the fog. 

“Wait!” Hiccup called, and urged Toothless after him. 

“Hiccup!” Stoick shouted after. “I can’t keep up!” 

“Stormfly’s a tracker, you’ll find me!” And he raced off, afraid to lose this stranger. 

The appearance of a human filled Hiccup with all sorts of emotions. If there was a person in charge of these raids, then perhaps they could be reasoned with? They could trade instead, and Berk could learn how to train dragons like this person had! 

Toothless burst through the wall of fog to find a rocky island, halfway made of giant ice spikes. Distantly, he heard his father yell. “What in the beard of Thor is that!?” Before he and Toothless dove into a cavern. 

“Careful, bud!” Hiccup attempted to slow his friend down, but Toothless blasted an echoing roar down the tunnel, and proceeded to nail every twist and turn. “Wow…” Hiccup whispered, delighted to learn something new about his dragon. 

How did that other dragon navigate through here?

Toothless landed in a cave. There were a few other dragons resting that perked up when they entered. 

“Halt your approach, viking!” A woman’s voice called. “Your kind is not welcomed here!” Hiccup spotted her then, with the dim light shining through the ice. She was crouched up on a ledge, her dragon behind her. “This is a dragon’s sanctuary, not a killer’s playground!” 

“I’m not a killer!” Hiccup protested. “I’m a friend to dragons! All I want is to bring peace between vikings and dragons.” He hopped off of Toothless. “See? This is Toothless. He’s my best friend.” 

The woman used her staff to lower herself to the ground, as she slinked closer. 

“We’re trying to find a way to get the dragons to stop raiding us.” He stood rigidly as the woman crept ever closer. Her movements were like a wild animal. “I just want to talk.” 

“You’re so young…just a boy…” She cooed, coming closer still, and reaching a hand out towards him. 

“Uh…yeah…well, I’m sixteen. I just look small.” He attempted to chuckle. “Late bloomer.” 

Her breath caught in her throat as she stared at him. “...Hiccup?”

His eyes widened and he blinked several times, stunned. 

The woman removed her helmet and tossed it to the side. She stepped into his personal space and caressed his face, her callous fingers trembling as she touched him. 

She had vibrant green eyes, auburn hair streaked with gray, and high cheekbones. 

“Should…I…know you?” Hiccup asked, extremely uncomfortable. 

The woman seemed to fight for words, then eventually said, “...no.” 

“You certainly seem to know me…” He desperately tried to joke as she touched his hair. 

She had tears in her eyes as she kissed his forehead gently. “You’re so beautiful.”

“Okay!” Hiccup chuckled uneasily as he danced away from her. “That’s…that’s enough of that for me, thank you.” 

The woman kept staring at him, a wistful smile on her face. Then her brows drew into a crease. “That man with you…?”

“Oh, that’s my dad.”

“...Stoick?”

“Yeah! He’ll catch up soon.” 

She backed up, fear rolling off of her in waves. “I have to go. He can’t see me.”

“Wait wait wait,” Hiccup grabbed her arm. “You can’t leave! We need your knowledge! Dad and I are training the dragons, but the rest of the tribe still hates them. Please, we need your help!” 

“Hiccup!” Stoick’s voice echoed down the tunnel. “Add to your notes! Nadder’s don’t have great night vision!” There was a clatter of rocks. “Ow! Watch it missy!” 

The woman looked stricken towards the cavern entrance. “Please Hiccup, he mustn’t see me!” 

“Why? Dad’s really mellowed out these last few months. I think since we’re so close to peace, he’s finally calmed down. Whatever you’re afraid of, don’t be.”

“Hiccup…” Her jaw trembled. 

Hiccup knew he wasn’t that strong. This woman could break free of his hold easily, but she wasn’t trying. Was she afraid of hurting him? Hurting his feelings? 

Finally, Stoick and Stormfly all but fell into the cavern, Stormfly tilting so that he fell off. 

She squawked angrily at him. 

“It wasn’t my idea!” He yelled back. He grumbled as he stood and dusted off his clothes. When his face raised to find his son, his eyes went wide and his jaw dropped in shock. 

Hiccup got behind the woman and pushed her forward. “Go on. He won’t bite.” 

As the woman turned and met Stoick’s gaze, the look on his father’s face changed to something he had never seen before. Awe? Reverence? He looked damn near tears. 

“Well, go on!” The woman shouted at him. “Get ta shoutin’!” She stood a little straighter. 

Stoick took off his helmet.

“I didn’t come home, afterall. All this time…never said a word about where I was. And now—”

Stoick only stepped closer, eyes riveted on her. 

Hiccup watched, goosebumps running up his back. A part of him had a guess at who this was, but the rest of him denied it vehemently. After all, she was dead…

Wasn’t she?

“By the gods, Stoick! Won’t you say somethin’?”

Stoick raised a hand to her face, touching her so tenderly. “You’re as beautiful as the day I lost you.” 

All the fight went out of his woman, and she clutched onto Stoick as tears started to roll down her cheeks. 

Stoick kissed her then, tenderly. Like someone who hadn’t kissed in so long and wanted to savor it. 

“D-dad?” Hiccup whispered, overcome with emotion. “Is…is she…?”

“Aye, lad.” 

The tears on Valka’s face doubled as she rushed back to Hiccup and crushed him into a fierce hug. “My baby…my baby boy!” 

“M-mom…Mom!” And he hugged her back, coming unraveled at the seams. All these years, and he finally had his mother. She was here. She was alive! 

Stoick surrounded them and lifted them off the ground in a hug. He was laughing and weeping, so overwhelmed with emotion, it just spilled out of him. 

Hiccup looked at his beautiful mother. “Let’s go home, mom.”

Valka looked much more forlorn and reserved at that. She pulled away from the boys, slowly backing away towards her dragon. 

“Val…?”

“I can’t go back,” she breathed. 

“Why not, love?” Stoick wasn’t accusing, just concerned. 

“Hiccup said so himself, the tribe still hates dragons. I’ve lived alone, among them, for 15 years. I…I couldn’t go back to a society that hates them. And…I don’t know…” she looked at her hands. “Being away from people…it changes you. They’d hate me too.” 

Hiccup looked to his dad, pleading.

“We can’t leave you here, Val. I just found you! I don’t want to lose you again.” 

“I know, my darling. I don’t want to leave you…but…”

“We’re close!” Interrupted Hiccup. “I’m working on stopping the raids, that’s why we came out here. It won’t be long and then–” 

“They won’t understand.” Valka said patiently. “They didn’t back then. If I return before there’s peace…it could endanger your father. He’d be a traitor. They don’t know you’ve befriended dragons, do they?”

Stoick shook his head. “It’s been our secret.”

“The cove!” Hiccup chirped. “The shack in the cove! She can live there until we get everything figured out! And you can bring—um…” He looked at the large dragon that was now examining Toothless with wise old eyes. 

“Cloudjumper.” 

“Cool.” He smiled. “You can bring Cloudjumper, and come and go as you want, but that way, you’ll be near, and we can see you!” 

“Please Val…” Stoick begged. “That’s reasonable, isn’t it?” 

Valka was quiet for a bit, mulling it over. It would be a slow start. Like stepping into water up to your knees instead of jumping right in. “Aye. It’s reasonable.” 

“Then you’ll come back with us?”

Valka swallowed, and then nodded. “To the cove. For now.” 

Stoick grabbed her into a tight hug and kissed her face. “Thank you! Thank you!” 

Valka started giggling as she half-heartedly tried to escape. “Alright alright! Let me just pack up a few things.” 

The men followed her through the caverns as she led them to her living space. It was like a balcony to an auditorium, and she led them in through the back. She had fur pelts for sleeping, a large clay pot for cooking, and other odds and ends. 

The boys didn’t see any of it. In front of them, they had a perfect view of what was inside the giant ice pillar. 

One dragon surrounded by hundreds more. This one singular dragon was the size of the mountain the Great Hall was built into. Not the hall itself, the mountain. It was mostly white, and had a great mane of fins from its back. Two huge tusks protruded from its mouth, big enough to wipe out the village with one swipe. 

“I didn’t know dragons could get that big.” Stoick said, weakly. 

“Every dragon colony has its queen, but this is the king.” Valka said proudly. 

“Is this the guy causing the raids?” Hiccup asked, desperately hoping the answer was no.

“No.” 

Both Hiccup and Stoick breathed a sigh of relief. 

“The Bewilderbeast is a kind and benevolent alpha. But all dragons from a certain distance can hear his call, and come to worship him. It is likely how your dragons found this place.” She picked through her belongings, deciding what was worth taking with her. 

“But…something like this…is causing the raids?” Hiccup pried. 

“It is likely.” She bagged up some strange looking tools, only the gods knowing what they were for. “The night I was taken…” She paused and looked to the ceiling. “Cloudjumper had landed on our house. I went to protect you, Hiccup. You were just a babe. But what I saw instead…he was watching you with awe. I had expected a horrible sight, but I saw a kind and gentle creature. I don’t know why he took me. Perhaps to fulfill his task? But as we flew from Berk, he broke away from the rest, and continued north. He brought me here, and the alpha graciously let me stay.” 

Cloudjumper appeared from the other wall, blocking the sight of the alpha. Toothless appeared next to him, tongue lolling out. He seemed to be having a good time. 

“I can only guess that Cloudjumper is loyal to this alpha first, and whatever spell sent him to Berk…he broke from it before he could deliver me.” 

Stoick rested his hands on his waist and chastised the great dragon. “You could have at least brought her back, you know!” 

Cloudjumper just cocked his head, looking mildly offended. 

“It’s in the past now, love.” Valka stood on her tiptoes and kissed his cheek. 

But was it really? That dragon, that other alpha, was still out there. A great tyrant. Was it the size of this alpha?

Or bigger?

Valka didn’t take much with her. Some things she had made from whatever she could find she would start to pack, and then Stoick reminded her gently, “Love, I can get you actual socks made of wool,” or “darling, Hiccup is a very talented blacksmith, I’m sure he could make you a better hammer than a rock tied to a stick.” In the end, she ended up taking some armor she had made from dragon hide, and a stack of journals she had made herself from homemade parchment and leather. As Hiccup held one for her, he studied it, seeing a few doodles in the margins. It gave him a strange feeling.

He and his father had been polar opposites. He could never see much of his dad in him, besides a few physical traits like his nose. 

He took after his mother. Knowing that gave him a sense of belonging. He wasn’t the only one of his kind. He wasn’t the odd one out anymore. 

Before leaving, Valka made a point to say goodbye to the alpha. She spoke to him like an equal. She introduced Hiccup and Stoick, letting the beast breathe a wisp of ice onto them. She explained that she was leaving for now, but may come back to visit. Then she kissed his scales and gave him a hug.

As much as one could hug a mountain. 

Stoick just stood amazed, enraptured that his wife could speak to such a creature. 

Then it was time to leave. 

“What’s this?” Valka’s voice came hard as she finally noticed Toothless’ tail. “A wound from the tribe?” She snarled. 

“Actually…that was…my doing?” Hiccup tensed up. “It’s kinda…how we met. I knocked him down, and when I went to finish the job…” He patted Toothless’ snout, feeling that old guilt bubble up. “I couldn’t do it. I cut him free, but he couldn’t fly. So I decided to study him. I made him a new tail, and learned how to fly with him. Dad and I made a deal then. I wouldn’t go into dragon training, if I worked in the forge and tried to find a way to end the raids.” 

“He did good, for a while,” Stoick rubbed Hiccup’s head. “Figured out the dragons don’t like eels–”

“Aye, reminds them of sea serpents,” Valka added, nodding like it was common knowledge.

Hiccup filed that tidbit away for later. 

“So we had vikings waving eels around during raids instead of weapons. Scared the beasts right off!”

Valka laughed. “That’s a funny thought.” 

Hiccup’s mouth pulled to a thin line as he admitted. “The eels are gone on migration, so the tribe is going to have to go back to weapons unless I can come up with something else…that’s why we went out. To see if we could find the nest and stop the raids.” 

The pieces to the puzzle seemed to click for her then. Where Berk was, what was going on… “how long ago did this happen?” 

“Ah…about a month or so before Snoggletog.” Hiccup mused. 

Valka looked surprised. “That’s been six months now? It took me three years to get Cloudjumper to let me ride him!” 

Hiccup tried not to feel too smug. 

“Well of course!” Stoick said, smug on his behalf. “He’s our son. So he’s a genius.” 

So they were just having a smug-fest, huh?

Valka smiled at both of them. “Let’s go home, my loves.”

The flight home was fascinating. While Hiccup may have trained the dragons faster, Valka still had several years of flying under her belt. She occasionally stood on Cloudjumper, but most of the time, she was climbing and jumping to sit behind Hiccup or Stoick. Like the height of a 400 foot fall didn’t scare her at all. 

Hiccup supposed that it really didn’t. Cloudjumper would catch her, he was certain. Like Toothless would catch him if he fell. 

Stormfly might catch Stoick with some prodding, but he didn’t want to test it.

“I never pictured you as a Nadder fan,” said Valka to her husband. “Not that I imagined you liking dragons in the first place. But if you were to appreciate one, I thought it’d be a Monstrous Nightmare.”  

“Aye. Those boys are mighty impressive. Too afraid he’d light me on fire though. No, this Nadder is–she belongs to Hiccup’s friend, Astrid. Our one other dragon lover.” 

“Astrid…Astrid…the Hofferson babe?”

“Oh she’s a babe, alright. Tell her, Hiccup!” Stoick laughed. 

“Not funny dad,” Hiccup droned. 

“Where’s the lass now?” Valka asked, missing the resentment in Hiccup’s tone. 

“She’s been busy. Her parents have her in cooking and sewing lessons. And this is all a secret, so she couldn’t get away.” 

“Oh, I see.” Valka nodded astutely. “You’re sixteen now, Hiccup? That’s marrying age…” She began to tease. 

“Yeah, and that’s my least favorite topic. If we could steer clear of it?”

The ride back was much more animated. Hiccup told his mother all about the things he had discovered about the dragons. Valka shared her own insight, her words occasionally being garbled together into nonsense. 

It quickly became apparent that she really truly hadn’t had anyone to talk to in years. Once she started talking, she went on and on, admitting things a bit too easily. Neither Stoick nor Hiccup minded, but Hiccup could picture a few judgmental vikings that would give her a hard time if they saw her now. 

Eventually, they arrived at the cove. 

“Oh, this is darling!” Valka cooed. She looked over the little shack with fondness. 

“It’ll be a little cramped, but since the weather is nice, Toothless won’t try to get in there with you.” 

“Oh we can share!” She said enthusiastically. She then spoke to Toothless, making nonsensical noises. He responded with a friendly warble, his mouth opening wide. “Retractable teeth!” She chirped, sticking head fully into Toothless’ mouth. “Amazing!” She pet his tongue. 

Stoick looked quite ill. 

While Valka was making herself at home, Stoick started up a fire to make dinner. “Now, all we need is some fish.”

On cue, Cloudjumper barfed up a dozen long dead fish. Toothless, wanting to be included, barfed up a half of one on Hiccup’s lap. 

“Oh…thanks buddy.” Hiccup patted his nose. 

“Good boy, Cloudjumper!” Valka praised, and talked to her dragon in that weird garbled language. Then she scooped up three of the slimy fish and took them over to the lake to wash the dragon saliva off. 

Stoick looked even more ill. “You know…I think I have some yak jerky stored in the shed…” 

The little family gathered around the fire and for the first time, ate together. Hiccup ended up trying his mother’s fish, which wasn’t that bad. It wasn’t good either, but at least it was cooked. 

They sat and talked past sunset, when the cove grew dark and the only light came from the fire and the half moon. 

When silence fell, and Toothless laid his head on Hiccup’s lap, Stoick started to whistle. 

Hiccup found it odd, as he rarely heard the man do so. 

Then he started to sing, and Valka gasped. 

“I'll swim and sail on savage seas

With ne'er a fear of drowning

And gladly ride the waves of life

If you will marry me…”

Valka gazed at him, eyes shimmering with tears. 

“No scorching sun

Nor freezing cold

Will stop me on my journey!

If you will promise me your heart

And love…” He held the note for a second, hoping that she would finish it. 

And she did. “And love me for eternity

My dearest one, my darling dear

Your mighty words astound me

But I've no need of mighty deeds

When I feel your arms around me.” Valka stood, holding her hands out to Stoick, and they began to dance. A dance that Hiccup had seen at weddings before, but never experienced, obviously. 

“But I would bring you rings of gold

I'd even sing you poetry

And I would keep you from all harm

If you would stay beside me.”

Hiccup had never heard his father so full of joy. Genuine, down to the core joy. He got goosebumps the moment he realized it was because his wife was taken. His very joy had been snuffed out, and he hadn’t been this truly happy until she was back in his arms. 

“I have no use for rings of gold

I care not for your poetry

I only want your hand to hold

I only want you near me.”

Hiccup watched his parents; his long lost mother, and his emotionally distant father, as they danced and batted their eyes at each other like teenagers. Their love had never left. It was always there. After 15 years, it only took a glance, and they were the same as they had been.  

“To love and kiss, to sweetly hold

For the dancing and the dreaming

Through all life's sorrows and delights

I'll keep your laugh inside me.”

A cold, hollow feeling swept through him. A very sad and lonely thought rattled in his mind, and interrupted the happiness he was feeling. 

‘You’ll never have this,’ the traitorous voice said. And it was true. In only a few months, Astrid would be married to Snotlout. Then what? Hope his father found a good match for him? And then be stuck on the same island as her and see her miserable everyday? No. He wanted what his parents had. This intense love that transcended time. He was desperate for it, even. When Hiccup had his worst days, he’d think back to the afternoon in the hayloft, when they kissed and held each other. Sure, the kissing had been amazing, but her touch was addicting. The embrace they shared, that was so much flesh against flesh, he craved it. It was an intimacy he had never had with anyone. A connection that gnawed on his soul. 

Much like his connection to Toothless, a friendship that went beyond the ability to speak…if he and Toothless had to separate, there wouldn’t be any other dragon to fill that hole. Likewise, there wouldn’t be another woman to take Astrid’s place. 

Maybe in a few years, it wouldn’t hurt so bad. 

“I'll swim and sail on savage seas

With ne'er a fear of drowning

And gladly ride the waves of life

If you will marry me!”

Stoick and Valka laughed in each other’s arms once they finished their song. They giggled and kissed and muttered sweet nothings in warm tones. 

Hiccup was content to leave them in their bubble of love until Toothless let out a sad croon. 

Valka and Stoick looked at Toothless, and then at Hiccup. 

“Son?” Asked Stoick, concerned. “What's wrong?” 

“What? Nothing, nothing!” 

“You say that, but you got a waterfall on your face.” 

Hiccup wiped the slew of tears from his cheeks, hoping they had been invisible in the night. 

“Oh, my baby boy!” Valka cried. She rushed to him, and scooped him up to sit sideways in her lap. 

Hiccup went from desolate, to confused and embarrassed. Sure he was small, but he was still 16, almost an adult, and she was holding him like a toddler. He looked at his father. 

Stoick just gave a half hearted shrug and said, “just let her have this, son.” 

Hiccup chose to relax, and Valka took the opportunity to comb her fingers through his hair and kiss his temple. “It’s okay, sweetheart. Momma’s here.” 

Hiccup wiped his face again, making sure all those pesky tears were gone. “I’m fine, mom. Really. Just got emotional about you and dad.” 

“Ah,” said Stoick with a nod. “I know what this is about.” 

“It’s not anything! I was just—“ 

“Hiccup Horrendous Haddock III you are a terrible liar and you know it. This is about Astrid, isn’t it?” 

The use of his full name made him shut up. He just gave a little nod. 

“What happened?” Asked Valka. “Do I need to talk to her?” 

Hiccup sighed. “No. Astrid’s engaged to Snotlout.” 

“Snotlout? My nephew Snotlout?”

“Yeah.” 

“Well my boy, unrequited love can be hard.”

He shook his head. “It’s not that.” Then he spilled the truth, telling her all about how Astrid was there at the beginning, when everyone thought he was just a screw up. How she had studied the dragons during training, and in turn he had given her pointers to help in the ring. How she had gotten hurt from the Nightmare and everyone had cast her out, except for him. How they rebelled and freed the dragons from the arena. 

It was surprisingly easy to talk to her. 

“And then…she kissed me. I think she was happy that I did what I could to help her feel better. Ever since then, we had occasionally exchanged kisses in private. We didn’t want to tell anyone right away because we both knew contracts and marriage and babies would be brought up. I don’t know if she had any deep romantic feelings for me, or just…liked me more than the other boys.” He sighed. “But Spitelout and her father bet on her fight against the Nightmare. If she lost, she’d have to marry Snotlout. It’s all been arranged. He even admitted to noticing how close Astrid and I were and decided to act quickly so Snotlout could marry well. She didn’t get a word in.” He didn’t mention anything about the hayloft. That was his little secret with Astrid. Besides, a kiss was a kiss. That’s all that mattered for the sake of the story. 

“Well how do you like that!” Valka barked. “Why the little Hobblegrunt! I can’t believe he would pull this stunt! You know, your father and I were married first, even though Spitelout is older. My father kept trying to marry Spitelout off to other ladies but he refused every offer. He threw tantrums and ripped up every contract that was made. When he was 20, he brought Helga home and said he was finally ready to get married.” She shook her head. “He was seeing her the whole time. Dad could have arranged a contract for them, but Spitelout decided not to say anything. We all knew they liked each other too. Helga’s father said she wasn’t interested so dad never bothered.”

“Well, Snotlout likes her. I think that’s about it.” Hiccup shrugged. 

Stoick cleared his throat. “You know that’s not it, Hiccup.” 

“Dad, you’re not going to tattle, are you?”

“Tattle?” Valka chuckled. 

“Oh! I’ll tell the whole sorry truth! That lout brother of yours is doing this to slight us! Apparently, I didn’t protect you, so he’s been holding a grudge for 15 years! He saw a great opportunity to embarrass us, and took it!” 

“But I think Snotlout really does like Astrid, shallowly.” Hiccup added. “Two birds, one stone and all that.”

Valka scoffed with a little headshake. “Men can be so petty.”

“So…would you talk to him?” Hiccup asked, hesitating. 

“Oh my darling,” she hugged him closer. “I would. For you, I would do anything. But I don’t think it’s wise right now. If I suddenly reappeared, I’d have to explain where I’d been…there would be a lot of accusations of me being a traitor, and your father could get in trouble. Spitelout might even feel more betrayed and double down. No dearest, I can’t help you.” 

Hiccup sighed. “I was afraid you’d say that.” 

“I know!” She perked up, a wicked grin on her face. “You should fight Snotlout! Show who’s the better mate!” 

Hiccup chuckled weakly. “Except Snotlout would smear me across the arena floor. I’m the weak one here.” 

“Oh. Right…well then you’ll simply need to bed her!” 

Stoick choked while Hiccup froze, wide-eyed. 

“It’s quite simple! Once your scent is on her, it will deter any other potential mates!”

Stoick started laughing then. “My love, these are young people, not dragons. If Astrid sleeps with Hiccup while under contract, there would be outrage, scandal! Remember? That happened to the Ivarson lass.”

“Oh,” Valka blushed. “Of course. Perhaps I’m not the best person to ask for advice now, hmm?”

“At least it’s entertaining,” Hiccup chuckled, leaning on her shoulder. 

Suddenly, there was a sharp crack up above, like someone stepping on a stick. 

Stormfly perked up and gave a happy little squawk. 

Astrid appeared at the entrance, her axe cutting through the air like she had a grudge against breathing. “Stupid barbaric idiot! Who does he think he is, ‘3 foot massages a week’? Gah! Oh I’m massage his feet alright! With a hammer!” She then realized there was a fire going and she wasn’t alone like she thought she’d be. “Oh, you’re back…” But as she took in the sight, she realized Hiccup sat in the lap of a strange woman. “Uhhh…”

“I can explain.” 

#no you go first #httyd #how to train your dragon #fanfiction #hiccup haddock #hiccup horrendous haddock lll #astrid hofferson #hiccstrid

[indycinders]

::On Light Feet and With Stony Wings::

A Krow x Lian fic. With art! ( •̀ ω •́ )✧ (cw: general yan stuff plus mental health stuff)

Krow belongs to @thekrows-nest

---

The wind whipped around both males harshly, bringing a chill to Lian in particular. This wasn’t a happy moment, nor a joyous occasion.

He was leaving, not because he wanted to, but because he knew he needed help. He needed to stop feeling like he wanted to jump off buildings, he needed to stop daydreaming of someone coming to save him, someone with long, brown hair.

He stared at them now.

Krow’s purple eyes searched the blond’s face in worry, trying to understand or get an inkling of what was going on. Why had he summoned him up here, so high above the city?

“W-w-what’s going o-on, D-dove?”

Lian closed his eyes briefly, trying to take a deep breath. It was hard to breathe up here, especially with the wind. He really chose a bad day to do this.

“I’m leaving, Krow.”

Krow kept his sober expression, his lips threatening to twitch into a cracked smile, hoping that Lian was joking but knowing he wasn’t. “W-what d-do you m-m-mean?”

“I’m leaving. I’m going away. I don’t know for how long, I don’t know when I’ll be back, if ever. But I’m going.” Despite the pain in his heart and the lump in his throat, his words came steady and kind of loud, just so he could be heard over the distance between them.

The shorter man took a few strides forward, but Lian stepped back and he stopped. “Y-y-you j-just can’t l-leave, Dove! I-i-i-it’s–” He huffed in frustration, his words holding him back more than any other time, and he needed them now.

Lian shook his head. “No. I’m sorry. We’re just…. We’re not good together, Krow, you know that. I know you do. You’ve done things, I know you have. I’ve done things I’m not proud of. I need help.”

Wiping the tears from his eyes, which had begun spilling over, he turned away with a final, “It’s for the best, Krow.”

As he was walking away, the brunette stared in the empty space that was left, the space that Lian had just been in. Quietly, to himself, he said, “I know exactly what’s best for you, Dove.”

🙟✥🙝

Lian’s head was pounding. His body felt sluggish and chilled and he didn’t want to open his eyes. He could hear someone shuffling around, muttering something. He took a moment, keeping his eyes closed, to get his bearings.

Eventually, he started making out the voice and their words.

“He’s okay, he’s okay, he’s okay, he’s just asleep.”

“W-w-what if he’s hurt?”

“You didn’t hurt him.”

“W-w-why i-isn’t he– a-a-awake t-th–then?”

Krow.

Lian fluttered open his eyes and was immediately met with solid metal bars obscuring his vision. He squeezed his eyes shut, then opened them again, blinking several times. He moved his head to look around… a cage? He was inside a fucking cage.

“What the fuck, Krow?” He barked, scrabbling to stand up. 

Behind about average height, he bashed his head on the top of the cage, hissing through his teeth. “Ow, fuck,” He grumbled. 

Lian settled for crouching instead, rubbing the top of his head.

“Ah, shit, I knew it wasn’t big enough.”

Lian’s green eyes flicked up to glare at Krow. Something seemed… off about him. His usual sleek hair was slightly more unkempt, as if it had been bunched up several times and not brushed since. His eyes also seemed… different. They were… glowing?

“Krow?”

Krow hurried over and crouched down to look Lian in the face. “You’re awake, Songbird,” he whispered with a smile.

Lian frowned. The other’s eyes were definitely glowing.

“What did you do?” Lian asked.

“W-what do you mean? Y-you said you n-need help, r-right?” The blond could hear the familiar stutter of his Krow, but it was also laced with a different tone of this Krow. 

“Yeah,” Lian scoffed, “but I meant professional help, Krow.”

“Y-you have me, Dove. My Songbird, my m-m-muse. I-I can help y-you.” The toxic green was fading from his eyes now, keeping Lian focused on them with a morbid curiosity.

“You can’t,” Lian whispered, almost whined.

“I-I-I c-can! I can help y-you, and s-s-show you just how m-m-much you m-matter to me, how m-much I love y-you and n-need you, too.” Krow reached through the bars with both hands, placing them on either side of Lian’s face.

Lian started crying then. “P-please, Krow. Please.”

“Soon, Dove, soon.” Krow cooed, wiping the tears away with his thumbs. “It’s o-only t-to show you how much I love you.”

Something in Lian cracked then, and he just quietly cried, his gaze locked with Krow’s. He was fucked, and he knew it.

#Lian Maldov #Krow #the krow's nest #fanart #fanfic #cinders art #cinders writes

[fluffywolverine]

ok, i’ve gathered my thoughts (more or less) and decided to rank all sandman episodes. before i begin: i LOVE all of them, and putting them in the right order was very difficult. let’s go

i’m gonna sort them from the one i liked the least to my favourite one

- chapter three: dream a little dream of me - this is gonna be controversial, but i must say it. i’m not a fan of constantine, any version of them, that’s just not my type of character. having said that, i think jenna coleman did great job portraying this character! really loved her sass and relationship with dream. all in all, i was very happy, especially given that this issue was my least favourite when i read it;

- chapter one: sleep of the just - i was amazed with it when i watched in during the special screening, and i still love it! it starts the show really well, sets the events properly, shows us characters, and most importantly - the imprisoning scene looked so good! i had chills when they were chanting. additionally, presenting the corinthian that early was a great idea, everything made much more sense afterwards;

- chapter seven: doll’s house - i was surprised when they switched rose’s mother, miranda, with lyta, but it turned out to have much more sense! i liked their relationship and rose herself is much more interesting character here. also all the characters from the house, hal, barbie and ken, zelda and chantal were perfect;

- chapter eight: playing house - making jed the fake sandman? best choice ever. the corinthian being the one who actually saved him, not just giving him the ride was an interesting choice, as it showed a different side of him (i mean who would have guessed he would be so great with kids??). rose entering the dreams of her friends was done beautifully, they were just as weird as dreams can be;

chapter two: imperfect hosts - how on earth did they make me care so much about a character i’ve met like 2 minutes ago?? poor gregory :(((((( cain and abel are perfect, just like in the comics, and so are the kindly ones! i loved the visuals in this episode, especially dream’s journey and gathering what he needed;

chapter five: 24/7 - i was terrified when i thought i will be watching the diner episode, but it turned out rather tame, or at least tamer than the comic. up to some point i even thought to myself “huh, this is not so bad”, and then they started killing each other and themselves and i was like “ok i take it back”. anyway very good episode, quite faithful, with changes in the right places;

chapter ten: lost hearts - a finale that didn’t disappoint me was such a relief after all the mcu shows i’ve watched. they did a great job making everything right, not rushing anything and letting all the events end the best way possible. and i loved teasing another season with azazel and lucifer!

chapter four: a hope in hell - THE BATTLE. this was very difficult to portray, the comic versions never really spoke to me, but THIS?? the visuals, the creativity, the execution - everything was perfect. hell itself was done with so many details, it was scary, but not unnecessary ugly or evil. and gwendoline christie, oh my gosh. legend;

chapter nine: collectors - listen, i just adore the cereal convention. i loved this absurd concept in the comic and i love it in the show, the execution was flawless. besides that was the episode with the biggest amount of the corinthian, so i can’t not appreciate it;

chapter six: the sound of her wings - i cried through the entire half of the episode :’) death was so gentle, so kind, so understanding, so full of love for people and her annoying little brother. it might sound bizzare, but the episode about dying felt heart-warming and soothing. and then the episode was made even better with hob’s story. this is one of my favourite issues and the adaptation did it justice. the entire thing has a special place in my heart.

phew, what a ride. as you can see, i am very pleased with the entire show, it exceeded my (very high) expectations. can’t wait for season 2 (netflix, don’t you even dare cancel it)

#the sandman #sandman netflix #sandman spoilers #morpheus #dream of the endless #the corinthian

[dansnaturepictures]

23rd July 2022-Blog 2 of 2: Whitefield Moor in the New Forest

We did our usual July trip to walk across the heath the other side of the road from this car park, one of my favourite New Forest walks, in search of Common Grayling today. I was delighted that not too long into the walk we saw one of these nicely camouflaged butterflies. It was joyful to catch glimpses of a few on the heathland floor, appreciating which I hadn’t often before it’s exhilarating orange colour as one flew and I also enjoyed that exciting glimpse of orange it gives when it’s wings are closed today. Some precious time with this butterfly I love and one of the first I learnt all those years ago. I took the seventh picture in this photoset of one. It’s my 40th butterfly species seen this year, special territory to reach in a year when I have done. It feels so good to be here. This drew parallels to us coming here in 2018 in July when first seeing one in that year at a similar spot to today it was my 40th species of the year then the first time I’d reached 40 butterfly species seen in a year as it became my then highest ever butterfly year list and like today that day was after a hot and dry spell.

Also in the world of butterflies on the walk I enjoyed the valuable further looks at Silver-studded Blues in a year this walk often gives me. We have been lucky in past years to see these in the early summer in June to tick them off in a year, usually at Deadman Hill or Turf Hill in the New Forest but I didn’t need to go there this year seeing them nearby at Godshill in early June on one of my days of the year so far. Then when we go looking for Graylings at the Whitefield Moor walk the best I know for them in my opinion with how many I’ve seen there over the years I have been lucky to get to watch both precious New Forest specialties that are two of my favourite butterflies. I was dazzled by the deep blue of a male which I took the first picture in this photoset of and also saw a female too I believe, also appreciating their dainty size and almost circular wings. Another small one I saw at the car park after enjoying an ice cream at the end was a Small Heath which looked so beautiful. For the second time this year after that walk at Godshill in fact I took photos of one in the New Forest the place as a whole I learnt and first saw them early last decade. I took the tenth and final picture in this photoset of it. Gatekeepers seemed to be everywhere again another exciting orange species and they dominated a Big Butterfly Count I did here, Meadow Brown was nice to see too.

It was a good insect walk as I believe I saw an Ichneumon Wasp a quirky and striking insect which I’d heard of but not seen before. It was an epic sight. I also saw Keeled Skimmer a key butterfly of this habitat and often this July trip for us, one of a few great moments for dragonflies I had in Dragonfly Week.

The open, undulating, beautiful and largely green especially the wooded areas you could see but also quite purple with heather coming into flower landscape with bog and water seen well too was filled with bird sounds, in parts of the walk through high gorse bushes the near constant name giving call of the Stonechat reverberated with the evocative calls of Curlew and Lapwing giving a sense of wilderness typical of the New Forest further along. I also liked seeing a few of the Stonechats including one vocal one which I believe was a youngster which the sixth picture in this photoset shows. Greenfinch for a second day running including possibly a young one again, Meadow Pipit seen well and a Buzzard zooming through the air on the wind it flew so fast which was so notable to see were other avian highlights of the walk. I took the second, fourth, fifth, eighth and ninth pictures in this photoset of views here today, there were some dramatic sky scenes as there was on the 2018 visit today too. 

The heather coming into flower across much of the landscape was a key floral sight on the walk I always love it when this turns purple in the summer in the forest and I loved seeing some especially tall bits of purple heather sticking up through the gorse a memorable scene. Bits of yellow flower on the gorse, possible marsh St. John’s-wort by the water, cotton grass, tormentil a key one for the habitat, a clump of either tormentil or cinquefoil which looked nice as the third picture in this photoset shows, bird’s-foot trefoil, hawksbeard type flowers and white clover were other key plants seen on the walk.

Wildlife Sightings Summary: My first of one of my favourite butterflies the Common Grayling this year, another of my favourite butterflies the Silver-studded Blue, one of my favourite dragonflies the Keeled Skimmer, one of my favourite birds the Buzzard, Gatekeeper, Meadow Brown, Small Heath, a nice moth, Stonechat, Meadow Pipit, Greenfinch, Linnet, possible Woodlark, Woodpigeon, Black-headed Gull, Common Darter I believe, Ichneumon Wasp, bee or hoverfly and I heard Curlew and Lapwing.

Part 1 of today’s posts with some bits at home is here: https://dansnaturepictures.tumblr.com/post/690599847708000256/23rd-july-2022-blog-1-of-2-home-i-liked-seeing

#photography #birdwatching #england #uk #world #nature #happy #common grayling #butterflies #grayling #silver-studded blue #keeled skimmer #stonechat #curlew #meadow brown #gatekeeper #small heath #buzzard #meadow pipit #new forest #heath #heathland #woods #trees #green #heather #purple #flowers #gorse #yellow

[funkymbtifiction]

Hello! So I’m pretty sure I’m a 6w7 and double or even triple attachment (I relate about equally to 3 and 4 and I go between 8 and 9 but I think I WANT to be an 8 fix because I have the problems of a 9 fix and 8 would “solve” those for me) however while I do find myself relating to quite a lot of the types, I simultaneously feel like none REALLY fit well enough. 6w7 was as close as I have gotten to a best fit type. Even then, I relate more to withdrawn and assertive energy than superego but I’m also pretty shy and have done a lot of work on being more self compassionate and not so hard on myself. And there are certain types I can definitively say are absolutely not me, often right off the bat but especially after research. For instance, I’m quite sure I am not a 1, 2 or 5, neither in wing nor fix. I’ve always known that, even if I’ve sometimes entertained the ideas not very seriously but because it bothers me to ever rule things out entirely. So my question is, is it possible to be double or even triple attachment but not quite relate/attach to everything, just a lot of things and nothing really 100% for sure?

Since you've given no reasons for 6w7... why not 9w8? There's your withdrawn (9) and assertive (8) energy. It would explain relating to everything and nothing, and inner haze (attachment at war with a "NOPE" wing). Most 9w8s I know also heavily lean into their 8 wing and wish it was stronger, because they are fed up with not utilizing it more and feel resentful of people taking advantage of them. 9 moves to 6 under stress and has a line to 3 as well.

Sit with it. Look inward. Read every book you can get your hands on, every article you can find, listen to every podcast talking to 9w8s, consider characters typed that way, and see if those things are ongoing in your life.

Don't search for tritype until you are 100% positive of your core and able to see those mechanisms working in you "in real time." Why? Because by then, seeing your own inner mental mechanisms will enable you to be more honest about your head and heart centers, and "see" those coping mechanisms and tactics at work in yourself more clearly. It's useless to try and find your fixes until you have insight into your core/wing and what it's doing. :)

#question #enneagram #9w8

[iomadachd]

Dean tends to smell of the following: Gunpowder and gun oil, both naturally and enhanced by the number of weapons he owns Murphy’s Oil Soap, which he uses as a guitar polish Sea salt from hard work and the nearby Atlantic ocean

Being raised by an ex-Marine, Dean is well versed in the phonetic alphabet as well as Morse code and hand signals.

After his old guitar was ruined by a leaky storage locker in 2014, Dean looked into replacing it with something newer and with a little more style. He settled on a Luna acoustic guitar that could also be plugged in if he ever got the urge to buy an amp. A black leather strap with a wing motif completed the set.

Even as an adult, there are times when Dean can’t handle eating a sandwich unless he’s cut the crusts off first. It’s childish, but it’s one of the rare holdouts from his actual childhood.

Dean is an excellent mimic. He has a good ear for accents and can pick them up within hours or days depending on the complexity. Scottish English Highland English BBC English Cockney Texan Southern American Boston New York Russian Belfast Irish English Cajun English French

Dean has a single stuffed animal that he owns. A plush sheep, fuzzy and soft. He doesn’t use it much, but it brings him a small amount of comfort when sleep is especially difficult. He’d be embarrassed if anyone knew, because he’s way too old to have one. Her name is Amara, although he’s never known anyone by that name.

Dean has a serious caretaker streak where he’s always trying to look after the people he cares about, in any way possible. He’s genuinely just short of a mother hen, but it’s how he shows he cares by keeping an eye on people he likes and loves.

A semi-secret hobby of his, but something he enjoys none the less. He finds it calming as hell and with the added bonus of things he can give friends and loved ones.

He definitely gives nicknames, either public or private and enjoys being called them as well sometimes. It’s a sign of affection if he has a nickname for you.

Well, favorite pre-made playlist is The Best of Led Zeppelin. If we’re talking playlists he's made and named himself, it’s probably ‘Lies I’ve Told Myself in the Cemetery at Midnight’

For Dean, it can be incredibly difficult to say those three little words. Even with family he can sometimes struggle to express how he feels. A whole life time of internalized sexism and trauma and impermanence combined with not necessarily feeling a loving attachment right off the bat means it can sometimes be a year or more before he’ll ever say he loves someone, even those he appears to be closest to. Minimum it’s usually a year to a year and a half.

His love language isn’t words, it tends to be Physical Touch and Acts of Service

Dean isn’t exactly an artist, but he does doodle with some frequency. He has a notebook full of doodles at his desk, and at home, and uses it to focus his brain while fielding phone calls or through meetings. He doesn’t doodle human figures at all, but has done some drawings of various supernatural beings in his journals as part of the recording process in addition to taking pictures with his phone. He is very precise when it comes to sigils and symbols though, and takes great care either laying them down on a large surface, or recording them on paper. Those he will fuss over for ages until they’re perfect.

Dean was a casualty of the Blip.

#v: the thunder of guns tore me apart #;ttogtma hcs

[anagramtransitory]

8. However, I have been a terrible parent because I’ve been a parent at all; I’ve been a parent instead of ever really being much of a kid, of a teenager, of a young adult, or of a real adult who is needing guidance and support. The idea I’ve been none of those, and have mainly been a parent in training instead. That what I took from my parents wasn’t how to be whatever age/thing I was at the time (or how not to be), but instead, how to act the way a person acts as a parent, as a “best self” and “non-vulgar self” and “self who wants to be looked up to”. And I indeed have become that. All my life. I’ve taken bits and pieces. But mostly, in 96% of my soul, I’ve invented all of it, or remodeled it, for myself. As myself. I miss who my dad was, but I’ve got all the best of him memorized and there ready to replicate. Same with who my mom was, or who I thought they both were, when I was young enough I saw what they wanted me to see and nothing more, and questioned their love of me not at all, and they never questioned their own love of me and each other. It all still hurts, but you take the lessons and keep the hurt to teach you other lessons, I guess. And all those lessons on how to be and how to love like there’s no question about it, those I can replicate. I can combine both people and add myself to the mix. Parents ideally love more than they teach, by a 51% love to 49% instruct mixture. I think. And they combine the two tasks to seem like one, in the best cases. If I really want to “parent” myself I have to do the same thing. Without judgment for whoever is needing parenting, period. You’re a parent for life, or are supposed to be. In a non creepy way, I’ve gotten parented and continue to be parented by so many people older than me, parent-age. I can put love into the idea of wanting where I live to look like the home of a person who was parented with pure love and perfect instructions I agree with completely and never had to question. To look like it’s still that way, I still have those parents. Ultimate prank. Because I won’t. I don’t. I have human parents who gave up on a truly very difficult person parenting themselves (parenting themselves badly, very badly, to this day, with only very small improvements over long periods of wasted time). They did their best, I took what I needed in modeled roles and selves, they’re not bad parents to this day. It’s just that, like, in the houses of others their conformity looks like panic and fear. I want the love I’ve gotten and continues to get from all my parents I’ve had in different ways and times to make it’s presence known by lending a sense of weight, and doing what I’m supposed to do, and sense of meaning, to all the functioning I do alone. The meaning being imaginary speeches I invent them all to have given me about the way to do every normal everyday task well and properly, how to do it “like a person that was loved and taught everything it’s possible to teach a grown person living on their own, by their loving, proud, and very similar parents, would do it”. Of course, I don’t know how to do anything, I’m winging everything, I’m unprepared, I’m careless, it’s as chaotic as it could possibly be as a single childless younger aged woman could have it. But I’m good at inventing things. Especially good things. I can invent good selves, I’ve done it often and effectively, I am proof of it, I am that now. The instruction I’ve not had that I can remember. The love has been there and still exists and parent figures keep appearing in my life. Good ones, very good ones. Doing the best they can as imperfect people, to show their best, the way you would if you wanted to be looked up to- like the best real parents do. The love can do what the lack of information and instruction and order demands by necessity, the self-doubt vacuum that lack leaves in the life of a self-parenting person: the love can tell me what makes sense to do really does make sense to do, and there’s no hurry to get it over with, as the love doesn’t end when the work starts, but rather it’s there when it begins. ..