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justagalwhowrites · 1 year ago

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Beskar Doll - Ch. 17: Distance

In which Din and Doll try to figure out how to navigate feelings in their own, emotionally stunted ways. A continuation of Beskar Doll Ch. 1-16 found on Tumblr here.

Pairing: The Mandalorian/Din Djarin x Female Reader

Warnings: None! Whole fic is violent and smutty, minors DNI 18+ only. No use of Y/N

Length: 6.3k

Your body was still pleasantly loose when you woke up, a sweet soreness between your thighs as you more drifted back into consciousness instead of shocking into it as you usually did. You were wrapped in the Mandalorian’s cloak and the sun was fully up. It took you a moment to remember just what had happened the night before as you slowly blinked against the brightness and you found yourself alone in the grass.

“Fuck,” you groaned quietly. You’d made a damn fool of yourself, acting like an out of control teenager as Din touched you. And then you’d passed out before returning the favor. And you think you even cried a little. “Dammit.”

You sat up, feeling almost hungover despite the fact that you could tell that you’d slept well. Your whole body was relaxed and you didn’t feel worn or tired. But the knot that was settling in your stomach was sour. What had you done? What if you’d ruined it all again?

But he’s the one who started it. He’d touched you, controlled your body, gave you commands you’d been happy to bow to as he expertly pulled pleasure from you over and over. Why would he have done that if he hadn’t wanted to? Maybe just to prove that he could? And where the hell was he, anyway?

You ran your fingers through your tangled hair, trying to tame the knots as you tightened the cloak around yourself. You pressed your face into it. It smelled a little like him, though not as much as you’d have hoped. But then, the armor was always there, keeping the most intimate things about him hidden away, even his smell. Meanwhile, it felt like you were always exposed and he knew exactly where to look and how to read you.

You got up slowly, cracking your neck and you looked around, about to call out to try to find him when he came down the ramp to the Razor Crest, the child in hand.

“Well if I could trust you to stay out of trouble,” he was saying, the kid gazing up at him adoringly. He stopped when he saw you standing there, his cloak drawn tightly around you.

“Hey,” you said, trying to stand up straight and not look vulnerable or embarrassed. You weren’t sure if you were pulling it off. You unwound the cloak and held it out to him. “Thanks. For this.”

“Sure,” he said, closing the distance between you and setting the baby in the grass before taking it from you. “I hope you slept well.”

“Yeah,” you said, part of you wishing the ground would just open and swallow you whole because it would be better than feeling this uncomfortably exposed. “You?”

“You’re the one who’s starting training today,” he replied, putting the cloak on and crossing his arms. “How I slept doesn’t really matter. Eat something, we’ll get going.”

“We?” You frowned. He started for the part of the Razor Crest he’d been working on the day before and you followed.

“Yes,” he replied, not looking at you, just pulling a panel off the side of the ship. “You’re still recovering. You can train but I’m supervising. You’ll push yourself too hard and fry the cybernetics if someone doesn’t rein you in.”

“I know how to train, Mando,” you narrowed your eyes at him. “I did it for years.”

“Not starting from scratch you didn’t,” he replied. “And not after recovering from an injury like that. You almost died, Doll, almost lost the use of most of your body. You need help. Accept it.”

“No.”

“That’s unfortunate,” he replied, reaching into the panel. “Because you can either accept me helping you or try to train while watching your back because I’ll be tracking you the whole time to make sure you don’t hurt yourself. Those are your options, pick one.”

“Do you try to be infuriating or does that happen on accident?”

He shrugged.

“Fine,” you snapped. “It can be ‘we.’ But you have to keep your mouth shut about how incapable I am right now.”

“I’m not going to make fun of you, Doll.”

He said it earnestly, an openness to his tone you weren’t really used to.

“Good,” you said, your voice not quite as sharp. “I’ll just… go get ready then.”

You took a few steps and turned back to him.

“Are we just not going to talk about…”

“Yeah,” he cut you off. You nodded once.

“OK.”

You went into the ship and grabbed some of the meat from the night before and a handful of berries. At least this time hadn’t seemed to break everything. It was just going to return to business as usual. Honestly, a slightly nicer version of business as usual. You could live with that. It’d be hard to pretend like the Mandalorian hadn’t just made you cum until your body was basically a pile of plasma and you couldn’t move but you could do that. You were willing to do quite a bit, you realized, to have him tolerate you.

“Well that bodes well,” you muttered to yourself, chugging some water before braiding your hair tightly against your skull and getting changed, happy the clothes you’d bought on Garqi were made for physical work. It wasn’t as good as the few things you had left from Naboo, they didn’t move with you the same way, but they fit and were a lot better than the alternatives.

When you came down the ramp again, carrying water and your knife tucked in your pocket, the Mandalorian had closed the panel on the ship again and strapped the kid to his back with the backpack. The baby squealed happily when he saw you, clapping his little hands together in glee.

“Well hi there,” you smiled, coming up and poking his little nose. He was level with your head from his spot on the Mandalorian’s back and he frowned a little, inspecting your hair. You drew his eyes to yours. He was confused.

“It’s all still there,” you said, turning your head to show him the rest. “It’s just back.”

“What are you two doing back there?” Mando asked, looking over his shoulder.

“He doesn’t understand how hair works,” you replied, still smiling at the kid. You pulled your braid forward and held the end of it out to him. He took it, his fingers exploring the end of it before putting it in his mouth. You tried to not laugh when he frowned and took it out again. “He’s around you too much. I don’t think he understands that it can change shape and size quite a bit, he’s puzzling it out.”

Din snorted and you smiled. The kid’s eyes met yours. Still curious but more satisfied and content now. You gave his little forehead a kiss before going to stand next to the Mandalorian.

“So,” you glanced up at him, arms crossed. “You’re the drill sergeant. Do you want to tell me what to do or am I allowed to decide for myself?”

“What do you usually start with?” He asked, looking down at you.

“When I was at my peak condition?” You asked. He nodded. “I’d run at least five clicks a day to start, sometimes up to 15, do some strength training, some hand-to-hand with someone if I could or at the very least do some staff or knife work. Target shoot a few times a week. Regular obstacle work.”

He nodded once.

“Why don’t we see how you do running one click,” he said. “We can go from there.”

You nodded once, an anxious ball settling in you. You were out of practice and your body was still recovering. This could easily be a shit show. You stretched a bit and jumped in place, warming up your limbs.

“Ready?” He asked. Actually asked. That was disorienting. You nodded. “Let’s go. You set the pace.”

You started off, heading toward the woods, taking it at a pace that felt almost exceedingly slow but you could already feel in your body. Your lungs were working harder than they had in a while. You could feel the blood in your limbs, the rush of it through your veins as your heart picked up. The woods were cool, morning dew still on the air where it had been protected by the shade of the trees. It smelled clean, a bit like home on Naboo or the woods on Alderaan where you’d played as a girl, the feeling of racing through trees and running for the sake of moving your body instead of out of fear or necessity comforting. It had been a long time since you’d moved like this but it was like coming home.

“How are you feeling?” The Mandalorian didn’t even sound winded. Show off.

“Good,” you said over your shoulder, panting a bit.

“OK,” he said, “Let’s go for two.”

You smiled. You hadn’t realized you’d gone one click already. Maybe this wasn’t going to be a total loss then. You picked up the pace a bit, pushing yourself a bit harder, watching for roots along the forest floor. It didn’t feel like you’d been going for very long, your lungs burning, when he spoke again.

“Turn back, Doll,” he said. “Don’t push it.”

You considered fighting with him - you felt like you could go further - but decided against it. He was being uncommonly nice. Why spoil it?

You found a tree that looked like it made sense to loop around and you did, the beskar-clad man following close behind. The baby caught a glimpse of you as you went past and he smiled, his arms up, his eyes meeting yours. Pure joy. You smiled.

You decided to push yourself harder the second half, your heart thudding in your chest, lungs filling almost painfully with every breath. You centered yourself for a moment before digging in and launching yourself forward, going faster, your legs burning.

“Doll,” he cautioned behind you. You ignored him, pumping your legs and arms faster and harder, racing along the ground, the scent of the forest filling you, the sound of your blood in your ears and the life of the planet around you. Trees whipped past you, the forest blurring fiercely, the brightness of the field ahead breaking through the trees.

You burst into the sunlight, squinting against it as you focused and pushed your body to sprint to the Razor Crest, the ground flying away beneath your feet. It felt reckless, a bit out of control, like you knew if you tripped you’d go flying with no hope of slowing yourself down first but you didn’t care. It felt too good to slow down. You almost skidded to a stop at the Crest before flopping on the ground, arms spread wide in the cool, soft grass. Din came to a stop beside you, looking down with his head cocked to the side. He was breathing heavily and you couldn’t help but smile a bit. At least you’d gotten his heart rate up.

“Have fun?” He asked, hands on his hips.

“Yeah,” you panted.

“Good,” he said. “Ready to strength train?”

You nodded and he held a hand out to you and you took it, pulling you to your feet. He turned you around in front of him and you frowned.

“I need to check your implants first,” he said. Your face got hot, remembering the night before. You shook your head once, sharply. You were pretending that hadn’t happened. His hand appeared over your shoulder, bare, holding a glove. You stared at it for a moment, trying to not gape at his naked skin. Golden tan, smooth, you wanted to run your fingers over him, lace them with his, press your lips into his palm.

“Hold that,” he said. You obeyed, taking the glove and using the opportunity to have your fingers brush his. It was like you’d been hit with the damn electrostaff again, a shock running through you where you skin touched. He didn’t seem to notice.

He raised your shirt and ran his fingers up your spine, stopping in the middle and pressing in further.

“Does that hurt?” He asked. His voice was dark, heavy.

“No,” you swallowed. His fingers ran further up your back, between your shoulder blades and back down before he took his hand back.

“Good,” he said, tone more normal. “The implants are a bit warm but nothing alarming. If it starts to hurt, Doll, stop.”

“OK,” you said. You didn’t sound as normal as him. His hand appeared over your shoulder again. You remember how it had felt on your breasts, your mouth, your hair… you swallowed hard and gave him the glove. You turned back to face him, crossing your arms over your chest as though that would make a damn difference. “Anything off limits on the strength training? Or are you just going to snap at me if I cross an imaginary line?”

He pulled the glove back on, shaking his head a bit at you.

“Do what you think will work for you,” he said. His voice was totally normal. How could he just act normal after last night? Why were you the only one stuck hauling feelings around? “I’ll check in periodically but stay out if your way.”

You stretched a bit, trying to pretend six-something-feet of armor wasn’t watching you like you were a quarry he was hunting, and tried to fall into a lighter version of what you used to do. You had to cut almost everything short, not able to do as many push ups or pull ups as you remembered doing before, eventually collapsing on the ground, dripping in sweat. You stayed there for a minute, panting for breath, when the Mandalorian appeared over you, blotting out the sun.

“I feel like you’re enjoying this,” you glared at him. He shrugged. “Is it because you want something to hold against me or because you like saying ‘I told you so.’”

“More the latter.”

“Great.”

“We’ll skip the fighting today,” he said, offering you a hand up. You took it, not bothering to protest the change in plans. You’d lose to Din in seconds in your current state. “But you can still shoot.”

He pulled you up and you nodded.

“That I can.”

***

He had to hand it to you, he was impressed. He’d never had a chance to see you work like this before - though he had an idea that you practiced when he wasn’t around when you’d been aboard the Razor Crest years earlier. You were still stronger than you looked - though you got progressively more frustrated the longer you worked - and you were clearly comfortable pushing your body. He suggested shooting almost as much to slow you down and keep you from getting hurt without upsetting you as it was because he wanted you to learn.

He left you leaning against the ship, drinking water while he put the kid in the pod and slung his rifle on his arm. He managed to make it down the ramp without catching your attention, your eyes closed as you leaned your head back against the ship, breathing deeply. His eyes drifted to your breasts, remembering how the felt in his hands as your back arched into him. He ground his teeth. He needed to stop this.

“Come on,” he said. “We’re going up.”

You followed obediently behind him - still odd, having you actually listen - to the ladder to the top of the Crest.

“You first,” he said, jerking his head up. He waited to need to boost you to grab the first rung of the ladder, but you jumped and caught it, smoothly pulling yourself up and climbing easily to the top of the ship. He followed, trying to not look up to see just how well your pants cupped you on the way up.

On top of the ship, he left the kid in the pod and handed him the silver ball he’d become so obsessed with, his little face lighting up. He watched him play with it for a moment, totally absorbed, before going to the edge of the ship that faced the forest. You were standing there, your face turned to the sun, smiling in it. Looked like you still liked to be up high. You sensed him beside you, opening your eyes and looking at him.

“Know anything about distance shooting?” He asked.

“No,” you shook your head. “250 meters is about my limit.”

He slung the rifle down and held it up.

“With the right tools, it’ll be better,” he said. “This is an Amban sniper rifle.”

You frowned.

“Aren’t disrupters illegal?”

He shrugged.

“It works so I don’t really care,” he said. “We’ll get you a more acceptable one if you handle this one well. One that doesn’t disintegrate.”

“Appreciate that.”

“Since you’re already good with a blaster, you’re a step ahead,” he said. “Your fundamentals have to be solid when you’re shooting 1000 meters away. Small errors that wouldn’t do much at close range will ruin your shot here. You need to be still when shooting, your breathing has to be right and you have to be in the right firing position otherwise your shot will be fucked.”

He nodded to the ship.

“Get on your stomach.”

You obeyed and he got down next to you, rifle in hand.

“When you line up, your back needs to be straight out behind the rifle,” he said. You frowned at him. “What?”

“Am I going to have time to think about all this if I need to be shooting this far out?” Your eyebrows scrunched together. “I’m kind of a ‘shoot the biggest threat and keep going’ kind of person, I’ve never been able to set anything up like that…”

“If you’re giving me long distance cover, it will be part of a plan, Doll,” he said. “You’ll have plenty of time to get set.” You looked skeptical but you were back to listening. “You’re small, having the right position is good. This rifle has some kick, if you’re squared up it will exit your legs equally and your movement will be minimal.”

You adjusted how you were laying and he looked down at you before nodding once.

“This rifle is mine, so it won’t fit you well,” he said, handing it over to you. “But it will work for now. Set it so you can pull the trigger without disturbing the sights.”

You took it, lining it up with your body, testing it out. He liked watching you with his rifle. It was obvious that you knew your way around a weapon, already treating it like an extension of yourself, feeling how it fit into your body.

“I think I have it,” you said, glancing over to him.

“Nearly,” he said, moving in closer to you, his body pressing lightly into yours. He gently nudged your head until your cheek was pressed against the rifle. “You’ll need to be that close to it.”

“OK,” you said, sounding a little breathless.

“Take a few deep breaths,” he said, trying to ignore just how close you were to him and failing. “Find your natural point of aim. Then set your sights. At this distance, there will be some bolt drop, too much for you to eyeball. The scope will help. Aim for that tree, the shorter one, at the tree line straight out.”

You nodded once, cautiously making adjustments to the scope.

“Got it?”

“Yeah.”

He adjusted his helmet, sighting the tree.

“When you’re ready.”

You took a deep breath in and slowly let it out before pulling the trigger. He watched as the bolt glanced off the side of the tree, charring the edge.

“Shit,” you muttered.

“No, you did well,” he said, switching back to regular sights to watch you. “Try it again.”

You nodded once before breathing in and out a few times and pulling the trigger. You hit the tree this time, but far from at its center.

“You’re not at your natural point of aim,” he said. “You’re moving a bit, just before you fire. Close your eyes, breathe deep and relax. Then open them and resight.”

You nodded slightly before obeying. He watched you, your eyes closed, your jaw tight at first, but you gradually relaxed. It spread through your body, your shoulders dropping a bit, your face softening. He resisted the urge to touch you. You opened your eyes and adjusted the sight before taking the shot. It hit, dead center.

“Hell yeah,” you smiled.

“Good,” he said. “Now do it again. Another shot, within an inch.”

You repeated the process and hit in the same spot.

“Again.”

You obeyed, even faster this time.

“Tree to the left.”

You adjusted the rifle and shot, hitting the target just off center.

“Hit it right, Doll.”

You shot him a glare before you adjusted and fired again. Dead center this time.

“Next tree left.”

You adjusted and hit it right in the middle.

“Again.”

You got the shot off in record time this time, clustering it right beside the last one. Din nodded once.

“Tree to the right of the first.”

You threw him another glare but adjusted the rifle quickly, hitting to the side again.

“Dank farrik,” you muttered. Din was about to tell you to try again but you cut him off. “Again, I know.”

You adjusted your shot quickly, hitting dead on this time.

“Next right.”

He put you through your paces. He’d been right. You were an incredibly quick study, the fact that you’d been training almost your entire life obvious.

You were more like him than he really wanted to admit. You’d both dedicated your lives to something as children, studied and worked and fought for things you’d been dropped into believing. He’d been brought up to be a warrior, you’d spent your life expecting to die for someone else. But war was over, his people were decimated and you had survived. What were either of you supposed to do now.

After hitting another tree dead center on the first try, he looked over at you.

“Good work,” he said. You gave him an almost smug half smile. “What?”

“You were impressed,” you said, sitting up and handing him his rifle.

“I didn’t say that,” he replied.

“But you were.”

He sighed. “I was.”

You smirked.

“Knew it.”

He shook his head, getting up and slinging the rifle over his back and heading for the ladder down, looking back to you.

“I’m going to stay up here for a bit,” you shrugged. “I haven’t been able to climb in a while… I’ve missed it.”

Din hesitated for a moment before giving you a nod and descending the ladder, the kid’s pod floating beside him. He was strangely anxious, leaving you where he couldn’t easily see you. Not that there was much trouble to be found on this planet and he knew exactly where you were, but he had a nervous energy all the same.

He was still trying to figure out what the hell to do with you. He decided to clean his weapons, give himself something to do with his hands, to distract him. For a long time, he thought that, if he ever saw you again, it would be easier.

There was a space you occupied in his mind that would get better if you were close, he’d thought. That, as it turned out, wasn’t the case. Yes, he wasn’t wondering where you were or what you were doing anymore, that was true. But instead of focusing on something - anything - besides you, he shifted to trying to read you. Understand you, learn you, untangle your concerns. Truly, really know you. And there was the part of him that seemed to want to do nothing but picture you naked.

The kid tapped the ball on his pod, making Din look up from his work. He squeaked, looking up, pouting a bit.

“We’re giving her space,” he said. He tapped the ball again, looking frustrated. Din sighed. “No.” Tap, tap, tap. “Kid, she’s not going to be with us forever. She can’t be. Don’t get too attached.”

His ears drooped and he flopped back in his pod. Din sighed again. He needed to take his own damn advice. He straightened himself, almost subconsciously, like it would strengthen his resolve. He was not going to touch you again. He was going to find some distance, break out of your orbit. He had to.

To your credit, you picked up on it quickly. He hated watching it happen, seeing you retreat into yourself. He made a point to not be cruel, just cold. It only took the rest of the day for you to pull back, too. You slept inside the ship that night.

The next day, you told him you were going to train, waiting only a second to see if he would stop you or try to come. He shrugged, continuing work on the Razor Crest. But he noted your path to the forest with his helmet, ready to track you if you weren’t back when he expected. You borrowed his rifle in the afternoon to practice shooting. He watched from the ground as you hit almost every target, your speed and accuracy increasing.

After a few days of near silence, you approached him after your run.

“I need combat practice,” you said bluntly. You were still breathing heavily and his eyes kept drifting to your breasts, remembering how you felt. “Spar with me.”

He was silent for a moment.

“No.”

“What?” You demanded. “Why not?”

“I don’t want to hurt you,” he replied, going back to working on the ship. You scoffed.

“You should be more worried about me hurting you.”

“Trust me, Doll,” he looked back to you. “That’s the least of my concerns.”

“Well, I know you won’t hurt me,” you crossed your arms and planted your feet. “So let’s go. I’ve never fought a Mandalorian. I’m curious.”

“I’m not going to throw a punch at you,” he replied.

“Trust me, you’d miss,” you rolled your eyes. He glared at you and he could tell you felt it. “Look, I want to be ready for when we leave here, OK? I can either practice with you or end up in a fight when I haven’t done much in years and find out then how little I still know. What sounds better to you.”

He sighed, dropping his tools.

“Fine,” he said. “No weapons. And if I say stop, we stop. Immediately.”

“If you’re that worried I’m going to kick your ass…”

“I’m serious, Doll,” he snapped.

“Fine,” you held your hands up in mock surrender and rolled your eyes.

“Tonight,” he said. “After the kid’s in bed.”

You frowned.

“Why?”

“Because,” he said. “He sees us fighting, he might not understand it’s fake. I don’t want him hurting you.” You raised your eyebrows. “It’s happened before.”

You sighed.

“Fine. Tonight, once the kid is down.”

He went back to work, feeling your eyes on him for another moment before you stalked off again. He hated letting you leave. But he had to get used to it.

The kid fell asleep on you after the sun set, something he’d been doing more often than not it seemed. You seemed happy to keep a hand on his back, your thumb lightly stroking the back of his head until he passed out against you.

“You owe me a brawl, Mando,” you said, looking over to him, your hand still on the baby.

“You’re sure,” he said, hoping that stalling would have given you time to change your mind. You just nodded. He sighed. “Fine, let me put him inside. I meant what I said…”

“I know,” you cut him off. “If you say stop, we stop.”

He carefully lifted the kid off of you and put him in his pod before bringing him aboard the ship. You were stretching when he came back out, still hoping you’d have given up on the idea. But you were stuck on it. He sighed and started removing his beskar.

“What are you doing?” You were frowning, frozen mid stretch.

“If you hit the armor, you’re going to hurt yourself,” he replied.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” you dropped your arm and put your hands on your hips. “Put the damn armor back on, Din.”

“No,” he said, removing it piece by piece. “I can take a punch, Doll. You’re not breaking your fingers on my beskar.”

You ground your teeth.

“You can always back out,” he shrugged, setting a pauldron on the ground.

“Stop trying to talk me out of it,” you snapped. “I need to get better and I’m asking for your help. I’d ask someone else but my options here are limited. So please, Mando, let me practice fighting you so I don’t get my ass kicked by some bail jumper, OK?”

He set the last piece of beskar on the ground, leaving him in just the flight suit and helmet. Your eyes ran over him, up and down, slowly. It somehow made him feel more exposed than taking off the armor had, your gaze more dangerous than anything hitting him could be.

Din stepped away from the fire and the ship, into more open space and you followed, watching him cautiously. He set himself into a fighting stance, his fists raised.

“If I hurt you,” he said. “Say something. Don’t try to tough it out.”

“I can take a hit, Mando,” you rolled your eyes, stopping a few feet away from him and raising your hands, too.

“You’re the one who wants to spar, Doll,” he said. “So you have to start this.”

You narrowed your eyes and your stance changed ever so slightly, analyzing him for a moment before you came for him. You were smart, feigning going for his head. When he moved to block you, you side stepped it, going low and ducking below his arm, bringing your body into his and slamming your knee into his stomach. He grabbed your torso but you’d wrapped your arm around his side already, ramming into him with your elbow before bringing the leg you’d hit his stomach with down and around his ankle, yanking it out from below him and using your weight to knock him off balance, sending him down onto his back, forcing him into the ground with a grunt.

“You have to actually try, Mando,” you griped, pushing off the ground and getting to your feet.

“I don’t think you need to worry about bail jumpers, Doll,” he said.

“I will need to worry about people who will actually try to hit me,” you said, positioning yourself again. “So do it.”

He looked you up and down, trying to look at you like he would an opponent. It felt unnatural, looking for where you were weakest. Your size would be the first thing he should leverage. You were smaller and weaker, overpowering you should be simple. You didn’t have the muscle he did to protect your kidneys or liver, hits there would do solid damage.

He considered asking if you were ready but decided against it, just coming for you. He swung for you and you sidestepped him, grabbing his fist and trying to twist his arm. It was a move he imagined had worked for you in the past, but you didn’t have the strength or the weight to pull it off now. Instead, it exposed your torso and he swung, landing a pulled punch at your side with his other hand, just below your ribs. You grunted at the hit, some of the air getting knocked out of you. But instead of stopping or slowing, you used the hold you had on his arm to swing yourself down and back, going behind him. He spun to follow you but not before you landed a hit to his kidney at his back. He caught your next punch, twisting your arm back and you head butted him in the stomach, just below his rib cage. Din caught your head with his other arm, holding your face to his chest and knocking your feet out from under you, bringing you down to the ground on your stomach, leaving you panting for breath.

Watching you fight was oddly beautiful. He wanted to just admire it, admire you. The confidence and knowledge in the way you moved, the way your mind and body worked in perfect harmony to do what was necessary. It was art, especially to a Mandalorian. If he wasn’t perpetually worried about your safety, he’d want to watch you work, see what you would do with an enemy as your canvas.

“You OK?” He asked, his hands still on you.

“Fine,” you said. He released you and you rolled onto your back before he helped you up. “Let’s go again.”

“No,” he shook his head, walking back toward the ship.

“You said you would,” you protested, following close behind him, still breathing heavily. “I’ve had way worse than that, come on Mando, let’s go again.

“I know you have,” he snapped, turning to face you. “And I don’t want to hit you, so we’re done.”

“I need to know that I can protect your kid, Din,” you said, voice calm. “He’s vulnerable. Imps are after him. Even if I were just watching him on the ship, I need to know I can keep him safe. He’s too important.”

He searched your face, the cool detachment you usually wore missing. You were afraid. Of not being able to keep up, to save someone who needed saving.

“Please,” you said again, voice so soft he could barely hear it over the crackle of the fire.

“Fine,” he said, stalking back to the open space. You followed.

“Don’t pull your punches this time,” you said, raising your fists. “Push as fast and hard as you would if I were a quarry. It’s OK if it hurts.”

“Doll…”

“I fucking mean it, Mando,” you snapped. “Hit me.”

He ground his teeth before going for you.

You’d started to learn his movements, could read what was coming next. You dodged him, his blows glancing off you instead of fully catching, your counter punches finding their targets at first before he learned your movements, too. Things devolved, just blocking each other’s shots, adjusting, trying moves that were dirtier to see what would land.

Eventually, he caught you just enough off guard to knock you down. Before he had the chance to ask if you were OK, you swept his legs out from underneath him, sending him down, his helmet smacking into the ground.

“You’re good,” you were panting for breath, your head turned to face him. “If you were armored, I wouldn’t stand a chance.”

“You did well, Doll,” he said, letting himself relax into the ground for a moment. “The kid will be in good hands with you.”

“Good,” you smiled a little, the movement changing the light on your face just enough that the firelight caught the glistening scrape on your cheek. Din rolled onto his side, yanking his glove off and reaching for your face, touching your cheek delicately.

“I hurt you,” he said softly, his thumb stroking your cheek.

“It’s just a scratch,” you rolled your eyes. “Nothing to worry about.”

It took him a moment to realize what he’d done. He’d hurt you and there was proof of it. And he was touching you. His skin was against yours, you were warm and soft beneath him, so close he could pull you against him in a second. His armor was gone, he’d be able to feel you more this way…

You picked up his hand from your face, setting it back against him.

“I can’t do this with you Din,” you said softly.

“Doll,” he breathed, but you cut him off.

“I can’t,” you said. “I don’t think you understand what the last five years - hell, the last few months - has been for me. I survived a war I never thought I’d live through but I lost everything. I’m trying to navigate a life I never planned to have. I lost my home, my brothers, my friends, my identity, my purpose - all to the Empire. I tried to start over and I lost that, too. I lost my parents. I tried to start over again and the only person I knew there, the person who was supposed to help me survive it tried to kill me and now he’s dead, too.

“There is one person in this entire fucking galaxy who knows who I am, that I’m alive at all, and he can’t seem to decide if he wants to fuck me or keep me as far away as he possibly can. I can’t do it, I can’t handle you touching me and holding me and making me feel something one minute and ignoring me the next. I’d rather you hate me, Din, because that’s something. I can’t handle the indifference from you. I can’t be invisible, not to you. Please don’t make me.”

It was like there was something screaming inside him, something fighting to burst out of him, to tell you everything, to pull you against him and hold you there, touch you, feel you.

He didn’t do any of those things.

“Thanks for the practice,” you smiled tightly, sadly. “I’m going to bed.”

You got up and went to the ship and Din rolled onto his back as the firelight dimmed, trying to convince himself that he was doing the right thing.

#fanfic #mandalorian fanfic #enemies to friends to lovers #din djarin #slow burn #the mandalorian #the mandalorian x female reader #the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian x f!reader

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1moreff-creator · 1 year ago

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Hey guess who's still thinking about the David MV.

I'm here to talk to you about these symbols from around 3:39, after "I remain undefeated by the rain". I tried researching myself, though the best I can do is draw them in symbol recognizer websites which isn't great. Keep in mind they're not necessarily supposed to make sense, as yellow is literally just the letter w.

(Best image I could get for the blue ones :p)

Below the cut is what I've found about what these symbols could be. I only checked for Japanese (because that's the original language of the song) and Chinese (because footnote 13 is a Chinese character so at least there is a connection).

The blue symbol might be 䀫 flipped upside down, I think it looks quite similar. It's a Chinese character which, from what I could find, means something like... narrow and dim eyes, or having one eye smaller than the other? Or "one-eyed", which I guess could be connected to Xander. It may also be "wink of the eyelashes" or movement of eyelashes, whatever that means. But I think the most interesting one could be "sleepy, drowsy, dim, vage and hazy". You can connect it to the dead as being "sleepy" or David since he appears to have some trouble getting out of bed, probably due to depression.

EDIT: Actually it may be 哈 which is the equivalent of a “jaja” laugh in Mandarin, so that’s probably it. As accirax pointed out in the comments, they actually may all be laughs :v

As for the green one, to me, that just looks like the n-ary product symbol, which is ∏ (longer legs than pi, 𝝅, though it is just the capital letter pi). If you don't know, that's the symbol used when you have to multiply a sequence of things. But what does math have to do with this.

I guess you could say if green is related to Hu ("substance of the arts" line stays winning) then maybe it makes sense, since her profile states she dislikes math? But that ranks a solid 10 in the Literature Girl Insanity scale, so.

Wait, no! It could actually be the uppercase letter pi, because it's the 16th letter of the Greek alphabet, and Hu has numeral 16! Yeah, sure, that works. Honestly the best I have for it.

The other option could be 丌, which I think is Chinese but I'm not sure. I didn't find anything conclusive about its meaning, and I didn't feel like researching too much because... it just doesn't really look like that. The MV's version doesn't have a little curl on the left leg.

I also tried flipping around the symbol a bit like I did with the blue one, but I didn't find anything in Japanese/Chinese symbol recognizers. Could be another language, or just a different non-language related symbol, but I don't care enough to research more.

Uppercase pi it is! Though that would mean green is actually Hu, unless I'm seeing wrong and that's mint, but I'm already kinda suspecting green is Hu anyways so.

Anyways, I'm open to different interpretations, if anyone has better ideas. Or if anyone actually knows Chinese and can properly tell me what the hell 䀫 means, because as you can see, there's quite a few things I found on the internet. Or, hell, maybe I'm stupid and that's not even Chinese, my language skill issues aren't exactly uncommon. Take care!

EDIT: Nope! It’s ㅋ which is jaja in Korean! Throw away the post everyone, they’re all laughs!

#drdt #danganronpa despair time #drdt theory #drdt mv #hu jing #still on my bullshit #again

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changingplumbob · 11 months ago

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My top 23 gameplay moments

Thanks to @anamoon63 for tagging me! You've probably seen my top 23 screenshots but as I was trying to narrow them all down I did feel like my favourite storyline moments were not the same as my favourite pictures. So I'm going to take this tag and tell you the top 23 gameplay events I've had this year. Not all have screenshots as some of them happened before I started writing down and capturing my gameplay.

23. I did actually enjoy writing Bella and Mortimer pulling away from each other as Mortimer began to prioritise his writing over his family.

22. Seeing in thought bubbles that Paris and Samir both had crushes on the sims I wanted them crushing on. Sweet success!

21. Back when my game correctly did university grades and three out of five of my university students earned their degrees with honors! Devin, Luna and Cassandra.

20. Adding in Dina and Nina Caliente. Sadly Mortimer died so they haven't gotten a lot of screentime yet BUT I think they look great and have plans to bring them back in in time, they still control the Goth fortune after all.

19. Getting Bob his dog Dale which allowed Bob to get fit and healthy. He's still heavy set but it's mostly muscle now.

18. When Reece got a pop up about his crush randomly showing up at football practice despite his actual crush Samir being on the football team...

17. When Deanna and Paris completely ruined my story plans by kissing during a shopping trip in a different rotation, and I had to do sneaky screenshots so you couldn't see them in the background. Then when I went back to play Deanna she still had the first kiss option so I could write things my way.

16. When I was able to edit settings so that Devin and Luna could have kids that would be genetically related to them both. I usually like to keep my gameplay semi realistic when it comes to having kids but I knew Devin would not get pregnant being an actress and wanted the chance of a kid that looked like her.

15. My sims commiting home invasion before it became EA official. See Devin walking into the Pancakes house like modern day Goldilocks. Taking a bath, cooking a white cake, and only half eating some food.

14. Joey's glow up from little kid to attractive young adult was a nice surprise. I'm so glad he rolled wanting kids because if I can't get a Devin lookalike, maybe I can get a Joey lookalike down the line. Note to self, put eyelashes on more of my male sims.

13. When this new blonde girl in high school kept looking miserably at Deanna during the lesson. And I had Deanna go cheer her up only to discover when looking through her traits that she was also a lesbian. Cheers Paris for spawning at just the right time.

12. Kelly rolling the evil trait after being a destructive toddler was hilarious. I never would have picked it by myself but now I revel in writing him being a jerk to others.

11. When I got Milton to waddle across the road after Bella went missing. And again when I got him to ditch Dina and Nina and run away to see Alexander.

10. Rahul repeatedly spawning outside the Goth house for no apparent reason. This of course led to a friendship and eventual romance with Cassandra. Stalking may pay off???

9. Just watching Kaori ski has honestly been so fun. I look forward to it when I play her household. For those that don't know Charlie used Mix & Mingle for a blind date and Kaori was the second woman she met from that.

8. INFANTS! Specifically playing with alien infants like Silas and Pollock who are even more adorable and hilarious than human infants.

7. Writing Bob and Eliza as being in love. Taking the opposite nature of their personalities and finding a way where they actually work well together. I always smile when they go to woohoo and Eliza also dumps her clothes on the floor like Bob rather than in the basket.

6. When Reece got a crush on Samir after literally saying one thing to him, guess they'd been bonding off screen. In the York rotation Samir had come over and yelled at Reece, and my brain went he's probably just a closeted gay. Then I checked and he actually was! For storyline purposes though I have him as never being in denial of that.

5. Savannah and Mercedes being mini clones of Rahul. I love it so much. I also have really liked playing this latest storyline where they are not pleased at the idea of a sibling, they can be two little terrors.

4. Adam accepting the birth of both of his kids despite not wanting children. I didn't know if I could do enough to get him there but each time he was able to.

3. Keira getting sick during her Halloween party date and Marta looking after her. Not planned but ended up pretty sweet.

2. James proposing to Alexander when he was a townie, despite autonomous proposals being turned off and the fact that he had a living wife at that point. You rebel against the code James!

1. When Adam ignored autonomous proposals being turned off, and showed up in the middle of Suzanna's shift at the science lab to propose. They were living together by this point and clearly he got sick of me ignoring his wants while I played him at home.

So @azuhrasims @marcishaun @sharona-sims and anyone really if you have some top gameplay events from this year, doesn't have to be a whole 23, want to share? Also @julesbbsea17 I KNOW you must have had some kind of crazy memorable gameplay events in your game this year... *flashes back to that random unknown thing bobbing in the water beside your lot in Sulani that we still don't have the identity of*

#sims 4 #the sims #the sims 4 #Top 23 #simblr #Dag dag or tag tag

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steveskafte · 1 year ago

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SOME CALL IT JOY Most folks would tell you that they don't practice comparative happiness, but it's a very human thing to dismiss the pleasures of anyone who found them in places opposite to your own. If you've read me now for any amount of time, you're familiar with my rather fundamentalist childhood. When I was growing up in the church, there was always an implicit message in the testimonies – what you could call the "once was lost, but now I'm found" narrative. Their origin stories might vary wildly, but for whoever was standing on that stage, the key result was the universal happiness we all now shared together. Trouble for me was, I was never happy. I'd been deeply immersed in all that stuff from the start, and it made me consistently disquieted with each passing year. Maybe it was my inbuilt introversion, hating to be in a room full of people. Perhaps it was my disconnection to spiritual things. I liked to taste, touch, hear, see, and smell – but the abstract notion of supernatural connections never found a place in my heart. In my late teens, early twenties, I went hard down that straight and narrow road. Countless meetings, prayers, fasting, reading, and study. Total immersion in everything and everywhere I'd been taught to find happiness hiding. By the end of it, I'd reached a low even lower than I'd ever imagined before. It got so rough that I started asking myself if therapy or medication was what I really needed. Assuming that was the only remaining option for getting happy, I thought I'd start by taking a break from looking. It was right about this time that I really got into exploring. The first year of my daily journal mostly fell to last minute evenings, while I worked long days for the cable company. It was 2008 when I finally left that job, and started pulling back from the church as well. I honestly didn't expect any improvement in my mental state. I believed I'd already exhausted my options, and this was just a roundabout way of giving up. But as I drifted from all things spiritual, it was like somebody finally turned on the light. It's hard to explain the depth of my surprise, when I realized how much happier I'd been capable of being. For years, I'd been like some desperate monkey, trying to pull his prize from a hole in a tree. Fist closed tight, unable to get his hand out the way he got it in. Letting go was the best choice I ever made. Now maybe if I were asked to offer a testimony, it might go like this: "I once was found, but now I'm lost." Tried to make it make sense to them, but never could get it across. You see, I wanted so much to share the irrepressible beauty and wonder I'd experienced exploring, but I didn't use the right language. Couldn't find the words to make them understand that I was truly happy, and full of the hope I'd been after. If I changed the words, turned "nature" to "God" or made my adventures sound more spiritual, who knows? But it turns out that no one in the church wants to hear about you finding more joy outside it. So I finally stopped going, and now it's been seven years since I last sat through a service. I don't know that anyone who reads me could use this advice, but on the off chance, here goes – don't waste your life thinking that there's only one real road. It could be the one you thought, but look nothing like you've imagined, or everyone you've met might have misinterpreted it. There's nothing wrong with being on your own, and there's no great good in community if they're not your kind of person. Fellowship is cold comfort without friendship. Think about five things that have made you happiest, and if those things aren't present in your life, ask yourself if you're really living where the truth lies. It's okay to be miserable, it's fine, don't feel bad about feeling bad. But don't go running to unhappiness just because some call it joy. June 2, 2023 Paradise, Nova Scotia Year 16, Day 5682 of my daily journal.

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angabby-zzz · 15 days ago

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Disclaimer none of these ppl have like names yet (closest one I have is how I've narrowed down 3 name options for #7) + I've kinda just been referring to them as whatever theyre inspired by which is kinda embarrassing outside of my own brain but whatever

Anyway the like basic concept behind everything is that its like. Very normal like modern worldish (nothing too specific so far since I don't wanna age it Too much) and like the whole gang r just regular kinda ppl outside of like 2 guys. Except these 2 guys we've gotta like pretend like they're not probably human experiments who showed up out of nowhere.

Anyway here r the main / reoccurring characters so far. In parentheses r what I refer to them as except abbreviated for comfort lol)

1 (yh)

He's like this 18/19 yr old who has / had like a weird kinda thing w his family and kinda gets like. Idk some kinda depression thing from it or idk. At least it worsens. Kinda like that gifted kid burn out thing. Which isn't rlly helped when his older brother (10) moved out and doesn't rlly contact him anymore and seems to be doing fine + hangs out w his Also giftedish cousin (3) way more. But it's ok his whole thing isn't being a depressed guy he's not like that all the time. He has this childhood friend (2) who sticks around w him and is like Also kinda behind on figuring out life or what to do (even more than him maybe) which is fine

2 (mg)

Also a 18/19 yr old and this ^ guys silly loser friend who is like glued to his side. He's not rlly comic relief type loser it's more like. He's this tall kinda buff dude who is actually kinda soft n shy and has like no friends. Idr have much down on this guy other than that and how we wears glasses lol sorry

3 (jh)

If you've noticed a trend in nicknaming conventions good job this will continue. I'm telling you that adventure time au rlly inspired me no joke

Anyway this guy is like. Idk 16/17 yrs old and despite his awkward family life and deafness he's doing fine. He has a few friends (4 + 5 + 9 + maybe some less occurring girls I have ideas for) and has a lot going on between like advanced classes in school and clubs and volunteer work and doing stuff around neighbors houses for money. Tbh I haven't decided where he lives yet but lets just say it isn't w his parents or aunt/uncle anymore. But he prefers staying over at his cousins (10) house + feels more comfortable asking him for help on stuff. Which is also where he starts to befriend 9 which is cool 👍

He does a lot of stuff but he's like super introverted n quiet n stuff he just likes working and helping ppl lol. Tbh king of idgaf he's pretty chill and doesn't rlly judge ppl out loud or anything. He likes playing sports but doesn't rlly care for the actual competitive/serious stuff so he hasn't ever signed up for any of it. He has a dog maybe

4 (woo)

So this guy is like lowkey a loser. He's like 16 and only has like 2 friends (3 + 5) until this like tall vampire looking dude (8) shows up to his house one night and they end up secretly living together eventually after 4 stops being so judgy about him. Which is kinda his thing like he doesn't rlly follow other ppl or anything and is kinda mean but not in like a mega bully way. More like he's just misinformed or smth idk. But it's ok cuz 3 is too chill to argue w him so they kinda mesh together well.

I think maybe he'll have some kind of johnny/dallas thing with 8 at some point. Hashtag redemption or whatever (I promise he isn't super evil or anything this summary is kind of badly editting him lol + I don't rlly have anything done for him despite him living w one of the experiment guys)

5 (jeo)

I switched up the names on u with these next few hahaha

Anyway this guy I probably have the least amount of stuff done for. He isn't rlly that important so far but he's friends with 3 + 4. He's like cool looking but (not rlly) secretly a silly guy and rlly into like vlogging n stuff. Which makes him more close to 3 cuz he actually supports his passions 🥳. Idk that's all I've got. He has like no connection to 8 + 9 for the most part. He's also 16/17 yrs old I forgot to add this oops

6 (silly girl)

This name isn't the best srry but that's rlly all she is. She's like tall and 17/18 and pretty and comes from a rich family. So awesome. Except she's like a weird girl kind of. Like fun and silly (hence the name) and everything. Idrk what she gets up to but trust.

She has this girl (7) she's close friends with who doesn't rlly care abt that^ (sometimes even engages in her weird stuff with enthusiasm) + she's dating 9. Which is great it's like kind of giving "me and the girl I bagged by being autistic" except the roles could go either way. They match each others freak idk. Neither of them can drive or has a job and they love animals

7 (sgf)

This nickname is like 10x less creative when u know what it stands for but trust I have like 3 names lined up for her it's fine

Anyway yeah she's 6's friend and that's all rlly 😭 17/18 yrs old. The shortest one in this list (5'2). She's kinda a loner girl for the most part. She has no job (I'm not sure abt driving ability) but her free time is like. +40% helping her siblings/family w stuff (sports practice / moving stuff / volunteering) so its fine.

In case u were wondering the names are carmen lopez, ximena delgado(/rodriguez), and helena guzman

8 (hwa)

Yeah tbh the inspiration is really blatant with this one. He's this tall pretty guy who shows up in 4's room one night and yk. This guys whole thing kinda is like self expression n artsy stuff ig. Like as he n 4's friendship grows they're both more like. Into the beauty of the world and friends and love. How awesome. Idrk anything else for him rn. Idek his age I'll just say like 16-19

9 (ys)

Tbh I'm drawing a bit of soul piwon inspiration into this guy too. Which like ig tells u how he is if u know lolll.

Anyway yeah he's like 17-19 yrs old and pretty quiet but like. Silly. Yk like soul. He's like kinda into nature stuff and like art maybe?? Idk. He lives with 10 + 11 cuz he also just showed up there one day and they were like??? What do we do. But idk. Tbh I'm not even sure what he does I fear he's kinda just roaming around the streets while everyone else is at work / school. An adventurer guy. Unless they somehow figure out how to put him into school or something.

I realized I kinda stopped restating information from previous characters so yeah 👍👍👍 idk not much other than that. His and 8's powers aren't rlly thought abt so far but I think maybe he will have some kind of transformation or elemental thing going on

10 (sc)

One of the only adult characters lolll. Not by much though he's only like in his early/mid 20s. He's like pretty awkward w his parents now so he doesn't rlly make an effort to communicate w them much outside of like. Holidays or smth. And he finds it kind of awkward to talk to / hang out w his younger brother too cuz of that + he thinks maybe he doesn't like him anymore or smth but whatever idk. Has a soft spot for his cousin since he's literally just a kid and had stuff happen to him even if he doesn't seem to care abt it 😭

I'm not rlly sure if he met his roommate (11) just like randomly or if they're living together cuz they're friends but either way they're pretty cool. Kinda like cool uncle vibes ig. Also they have a dog 👍👍😚😚 and he's rlly girl dad about it. That's all for now

11 (jhn)

This is the last like official (reoccurring) guy I have and he's like also in 10's age range. Tbh he doesn't rlly do much as of now he's kind of like 7 or 5 in that way (connected to the random 2 guys only cuz they have a friend thats connected to them) but more personal since. He literally lives w one of them. But he's not super into the parenting role lol so its wtv. Like he has his own stuff going on. (he's not like mean or anything to 9 cuz of this btw I'm just careful not to make him and 10 super parenting focused just cuz they're the oldest ones lol 😭 that and he's a little feminine looking so yk lol. Is the idol duo behind this obvious too)

+ a height chart if u were curious

Anyway that's all I'm gonna do like a separate post for actual story parts later maybe. Idk

I never gave y'all any updates on my new oc stuff so should I post abt them. I only have like their personalities/concepts n relationships down rn not rlly any good clear event stuff that will happen. I need a new tag for this since I wanna keep oc lore just for jag lol

#add a tag to this l8r 🙄🙄🙄#tbh this rlly lowered in quality cuz I didn't write this all in one go lol

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wheelsup · 3 years ago

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kissing lessons

summary: one of your classic movie nights with spencer turns into a learning opportunity

A/N: this is really fluffy, but the whole story centers around kissing. use your own judgement! i’d say it’s at worst 16+

category: spencer reid x gn!reader, fluff (with a bit of spice) best friends to lovers (sorta)

warnings: just kissing, a brief implication at the end

word count: 3k

Occasionally, the team will spend an extra night in their hotel before heading home from a case. Be it due to poor weather conditions, or the fact that your case wrapped in the dead of night, the reasons for flying don’t ever matter. Because the majority of the times when you have to stay that extra night, you and Spencer have sleepovers.

The routine is pretty much the same. You’ll stock up on gas station snacks – sour peach rings for Spencer, salted microwave popcorn for you – and reconvene in one of your hotel rooms. Preferably, whichever of you got the better deal that week – a bigger tv, a room further away from the ice machine. And you’d rent the cheapest movie available on-demand, the options spanning from low-budget sci-fi to poorly written rom-coms. That night, the viewing fell under the latter category.

Spencer perched at the foot of your bed with both feet tucked under his legs, criss-cross style, while you laid against the headboard to watch. Every now and then, you tossed out your commentary and he’d ignore it. He always says you’re too critical of movies and you’re of the belief that he’s too forgiving.

“I don’t think they should end up together,” you mumbled, words slurring around your mouthful of popcorn. You pulled a face right as the movie approached the romantic climax, after spending the past ninety minutes actively rooting against the couple. Spencer ignored you, pretending to be engrossed in the movie to spite your disparagement of it. “They both suck.”

You groaned, slumped further against the pillows, and shoved your sock-clad toes under Spencer’s left thigh in a call for attention. He jumped at the intrusion, but ultimately, your efforts were futile.

And then the big kiss commenced, and your booing finally piqued his interest. “Gross! I feel bad for people who kiss like that.”

A small bell went off in his head and he took a curious glance at you over his shoulder.

“What do you mean?” he asked. He stopped chewing and the piece of candy in his mouth pushed out his cheek, giving him an adorably innocent look. His brows scrunched in the middle and his nose had a tiny crinkle in it, utterly confused.

You scoffed and matched his expression. “Are you serious?” You jerked your head in the direction of the television and Spencer whipped his head back, squinting. He couldn’t figure out what you were pointing out, what it was that was so obviously wrong to you. “Spencer, he’s swallowing her chin!”

Oh. He hadn’t noticed.

Feeling dumb, he muttered, “I thought that’s how you’re supposed to kiss…” It wasn’t the deepest confession to admit to you that he lacked some knowledge when it came to kissing, but he still refused to look at you as he said it.

“Spencer, please tell me you haven’t been kissing people like that.” You narrowed your eyes at the back of his head, sitting up straighter in bed. He shrugged and lowered his head, focusing on his snack as his fingers dug into the packet of gummy rings in his lap.

He popped another piece into his mouth, pretending to be occupied with eating so as to avoid your prying. “I dunno.”

It didn’t occur to you until that moment that Spencer might have learned everything he knows about kissing – among other things – solely through watching movies. How else could he look at that and think it’s normal? And you’re left wondering if he’s ever even practiced it with another living human. He clearly didn’t want to talk about it, but unfortunately, that only heightened your interest. You had to know.

“Have you ever kissed anyone before?” You kept your voice low, your tone implying that you were ready to exchange this secret with him. You wouldn’t judge him if he admitted he hadn’t.

He scoffed loudly, and though you couldn’t see his face, you’re positive he rolled his eyes too. “Yeah, of course.” Then quietly, he added on, “But it was only like… for four seconds.”

You nodded thoughtfully, considering how this new piece of information adjusted your existing view of Spencer. For some reason, you couldn’t tell if you actually expected him to be experienced or not.

He didn’t exactly scream that he’d… gotten around, for lack of better words, but you’re still surprised to learn that he’s barely done it at all. You supposed he was objectively cute, that maybe you could see it if he weren’t your best friend. And yeah, he’s a little awkward, but he’s smart and kind, so he has three great things going for him, and you’re surprised more people haven’t swooped him up yet.

Your lips curled down in thought, brows raised in curiosity. “And was it good?” It was a genuine enough question, because you’ve never really thought about Spencer Reid and kissing in the same sentence before. As it turned out, there was a lot of missing information relating to those two things.

“I don’t know! I didn’t get, like, a feedback form,” he grunted, angling his shoulder even further away from you. If you could’ve seen him, you’d notice his face boiling and turning red with heat. All this inquiring made him think harder about his … talents … than he’s ever had to before, and he’s not a fan.

You were prepared to do some more digging when the slump in his back made you feel a tinge of guilt. It was your fault he looked so defeated. You pressed too hard, disregarding his boundaries just because you wanted to know more. And now, he was wondering if there was something wrong with him, because you wouldn’t leave it alone.

He barely noticed as you swung your feet from under his thigh and rocked onto your knees, leaning forward to nudge his shoulder with your palm. It hauled his attention out of his thoughts and back into the room. You wanted to apologize, but instead you settled with “I’m sure you’re fine, Spence.”

He nodded unconvincingly. By the glow of the screen, you could see he was still gnawing on the inside of his cheek, focusing his eyes as he played with a loose hangnail on one of his fingers. It made you feel even worse. “Are you actually worried about it?” you asked, laden with concern.

“What if I am bad at it?” He whispered, like saying it too loud would make it true. “And that’s why it’s only happened once?”

A large exhale puffed out of your nose as you weighed your options.

You could go back to your original plan and apologize for setting him down this path of doubt. But that wouldn’t do anything to stop him from worrying, anyway. You could tell him there’s no correlation between the way he kisses and how frequently it’s happened; that you’re sure the reason isn’t because he’s bad. But you don’t know that for sure.

So, fuck it, you thought, grabbing a fistful of his pajama shirt and tugging him closer to you roughly, pressing your lips onto his.

This way, you’d at least have an informed opinion to be able to tell him if he was good or bad.

His lips were softer than you expected – not that you’d thought about them often, they’re just impossibly softer than they look – and invitingly warm. But they were completely stiff.

You could tell he was trying to kiss you back by the way his mouth ferociously moved over yours. He was trying to be a passionate, engaged partner, but he forgot about the aspect of tenderness.

His lips felt like two solid objects just sliding around on your face. They didn’t move in any sort of accordance with yours. There was no push and pull, your lips didn’t mesh perfectly together to form a solitary unit as they moved in unison.

It felt more like his lips were your opponent, putting up an attack and defense play against the actions of your own.

You pulled away, resisting a giggle at his bewildered face. “You’re not so terrible,” you swipe the corner of your mouth, smudged with Spencer’s flavored chapstick, “But it could use some work.”

He was at a loss for words, mouth gaping open as his eyes darted around the room and all over you. Maybe he’d find an explanation for what just happened carved into the walls somewhere or written across your forehead.

What happened was that you kissed him. And he was a little bit bad. Simple as that.

“I-I wasn’t ready!” he stammered, chucking up his hands defensively. He’d process the fact that he’d just made out with his best friend at a later time, right now the bigger concern was the slight cringed look on your face. He sulked and folded his arms.“What was so bad about it?”

“Well,” you scratched the back of your ear, trying to gauge if he’d react well to getting some advice, “my first tip would be to relax your lips.”

“Okay, I can do that.”

“And don’t think too hard. You should react to what’s happening in the moment, not worrying about what your next move is gonna be.” You could see the gears turning in his head as he tried to envision what that would play out like in a real situation. “You wanna try again?” you offered, figuring he’d learn much faster if he was more hands-on about it.

He nodded, and you leaned in close, waiting for him to go for it. His heart quickened under the pressure of performance, eyes screwing shut as he closed the gap. His mouth smashed into yours as he dove in hard. It was toeing on the side of too harsh, but you let that one slide in hopes it was just a byproduct of his nerves.

You had to tap his knee to remind him to relax, and he loosened some of the tension he had in his lips. He slotted his between yours, allowing them to be pliable to your movements and remembering to react, not plan.

He moved his mouth leisurely against yours, trying to match your pressure and pacing. They actually started moving in time with yours at some point. The kiss took on a shape of its own as he started getting out of his head, letting himself enjoy the kiss for what it was in that exact moment.

It was already better than before. Leaps and bounds better. But then he tried to deepen it, building on its intensity but adding more… something into it. You couldn’t even tell what it was he was trying to do.

“Okay, second tip…” you inhaled sharply, pushing him off of you with a palm against his chest. Whatever it was, it needed to stop. “You kinda do this thing like… where you’re blowing air into my mouth?” You scrunched your nose, punctuating your dislike. “That feels weird. Don’t do that. If anything, do the opposite.”

“I’m supposed to suck the air out of your mouth?” His face contorted, voice already slightly exasperated. He barely understood what the air thing was that you claimed he did. He didn’t realize in the process of trying to add pressure to the kiss, he was just forcibly blowing against your mouth.

“Not literally, no.” You laughed a little, rubbing your palm in a comforting pattern on his chest.”But you can use your lips to suck on mine, or my tongue… just nothing involving the exchange of breath. We’re not in CPR training.”

He eased up a little with your joke, adjusting to your advice he gave it another try. After a few moments, he latched onto your bottom lip with his own, sucking it softly into his mouth. “Yeah, like that,” you mumbled against him, voice pitching high in encouragement. He sucked on it with a little more greed, holding it for a second, then eased up, varying the pressure of his movements just like you did before.

You made a mental note to praise him for that at a later time, deciding to instead part your lips to see if he’d venture into further experimentation.

He caught on quickly. He parted them further, prodding his tongue against them as you opened to allow him entry. Just as you started to really enjoy it, he ran his tongue over the inside of your mouth, moving it fast and roughly like he was a washing machine.

“Stop,” you grimaced, tearing away quickly. You had to swipe your hand over your mouth to get rid of the excess saliva that really shouldn’t have been an issue in the first place, given how brief the frenching was. “Your tongue is way too aggressive.”

Overwhelmed, he tilted his head to the ceiling and let out a frustrated grunt, slapping his hands down to the top of his thighs.

There were too many factors to worry about. He had no idea how you looked at him with a straight face and told him not to think too much when there were a million things he needed to remember all at once; he needed to vary his moves to keep it interesting, but make sure he’s not ruining the flow by changing things up too much, and to be gentle but not timid.

All of this was second nature to you, but it was brand new to Spencer. Could you really blame him for not getting the hang of it right away? You decided to stop your list of critiques short for this round to spare him. He’d get there eventually, but not if he felt discouraged too soon.

“I don’t see why people like it in the first place,” he huffed, his head returning to it’s normal posture. In Spencer’s eyes, there truly wasn’t any appeal to kissing with tongue; it looked sloppy and unnecessary, and as you’d just confirmed, it actually was.

You thought about his statement for a second. There’s a certain allure to it, and you didn’t know how to describe it to him. So instead you cupped his cheeks in both your palms and slid your mouth over his again. As his jaw slacked its tension, you slowly pushed your tongue past his lips and gently pressed it against his own before swirling them together.

You sighed softly into his mouth, running your fingers through his hair and tugging carefully at the ends. He made a small noise against you, something like a whimper, and you swallowed the vibrations of it. As you retreated, you captured his bottom lip between your teeth and gave it a light, teasing tug. You soothed it again with your lips before releasing it, a proud giggle forming in your chest as Spencer chased after your lips as you broke apart.

“That’s why.” You smirked at the dazed look on his face. His eyelids remained closed longer than necessary, still feeling the ghost of your mouth on his and a tingle where your fingers were in his hair.

“Oh.” His voice came out meek as he slowly came back to reality, brows wrinkling up his forehead as he opened his eyes.

He put both his palms down on the mattress, one laying flat on either side of you, and dove forward to resume the kiss right where you left it. A surprised squeak left you as his mouth collided with yours with an insatiable hunger. You brought one hand back to his hair, and he was a goner.

He unfolded his legs from under himself and shuffled onto his knees, following his hands until he practically crawled into your lap. Each of his legs hooked onto either side of your thighs as he hovered over your lap, leaning his body entirely into yours.

The physics of it didn’t hold up; he’s taller than you are, and his chest was too heavy for you to carry. The balance was off center and it sent you tumbling back onto the mattress, bringing him down with you until his chest laid on yours.

It was the perfect force – the weight of him on top of you. He tasted like peach candy and sour sugar, and you found yourself craving more of it.

You shuffled higher up the mattress, giving him space to stretch out his body as he followed yours. One of his hands found your waist, gripping tightly, while he placed the other on the mattress beside your head, using it to steady himself. Sliding your legs out from under him, you wrapped them on the outside of his hips, using them to pull him closer down to you.

It only broke off in moments when both of you absolutely needed to get air, gasping as you pulled apart for brief reprieve before colliding again. He followed every word of your advice, getting better with each passing second until he exceeded expectations by leaps and bounds.

Your fingers weaved through his hair, passionately tugging the wavy strands to angle him against you and igniting his nerves under your touch. A soft moan leaves him and you’re encouraged to tighten your grip on them. His hips bucked reactively at the sensation, and he quickly pulled back, a slight embarrassment creeping up his cheeks. He got too carried away.

You took in his flushed face and swollen, kiss-bruised lips. They’d turned a shade of red brighter than you’ve ever seen them, and it was all you could do not to dive for them again as his tongue sweeped over them, soothing the burning heat you’d left on them.

Before he could apologize for his eagerness, you nudged your nose against his, your smile skimming against his lips. “So what else don’t you know how to do?”

☆

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night-market-if · 2 years ago

Text

Paper Lanterns Part 25

Paper Lanterns is a community based IF game here on Tumblr. I need something to fuel the creative fires while I chip away at The Night Market demo, and I want to give you all a little something in the meantime. Here’s how it will work.

I will post a snipped under the cut every few days. At the end of the post will be three options. Comment below or send me an ask if you would rather be anonymous, over which route you would like to see. I will tally them up and write the majority option and post it in the following days. From there, we repeat the process until we, as a community, have crafted our story.

Please reblog and share this with others. The more people we have participating, the more fun I think this can be for us.

Winner of the last vote: Let Malcolm take care of you.

You felt yourself relax against the pillows, your own hand coming up to ensure that he kept his placed on your cheek. “I mean,” you grin, “It was pretty impressive. The way I handled myself in there.”

Malcolm snorted. “Oh, I’m sure. Heroic, even. Rushing in there with absolutely no plan and, I would like to add, no money even if they did have a bail set for her.” Sighing, Malcolm pulled away, but just as you were about to protest at the lack of contact, he picked up your hand and pressed your knuckles to his lips. “Seriously, what did you hope for with that?”

“That my natural charm would see me through.”

“I’ve known you for quite a few years, Button. You’re not as charming as you think you are.”

You grin at the light jab. It was something he used to tell you all the time. Back in the early days before you two were together. Back when he still thought you had no interest in him and was trying his hardest to play it cool. Malcolm had been less confident then. Still trapped in a body that he didn’t claim as his own. Still dealing with a mother who never wanted a son.

“Is Hazel really okay?” you ask after a moment. You didn’t think the image of her being led out of the shop by the Velvet Guards was one you would ever forget. The fear in her eyes had been potent. It reminded you too heavily of the night her mother died.

He nodded. “She is. A little rattled, I think, but dealing. I told her to stay here for a bit. Everything is sorted and Tandri shouldn’t be a problem, nor the Velvet Guard but…” he shrugged.

“How did you do it? Honestly.”

Something flickered across Malcolm’s eyes. It was a spark you had seen a few times before. One that always let you know you were getting too close. Usually, you pressed. You pressed and pressed until a fight broke out between you two, and it left both of you as nothing more than a festering ball of anger. It was the initial response you had in the moment but maybe you were too tired for the fight. Or maybe everything else finally won out, and you just wanted to pretend for a while.

Holding your hand tightly, he looked down at you. “I love you.’

You startled a little at the admission. Not because you thought he no longer did, but because it felt heavier this time. As if he needed you to know. That it was more important than anything.

“What did you do?” your eyes narrow.

Sighing, Malcolm tapped your hip and helped you scoot over in the cramped bed. So many nights had been spent practically on top of each other, snoring in each other's ear because he didn’t want to spend the money on something bigger. That, and neither of you could figure out how to haul a larger mattress through the tiny front door.

Settling in beside you, Malcolm wraps one arm around your shoulder, curling your sore body into his until your head rests just below his chin. His sweater was soft as you tug at it idly. Hazel must have whipped something up for you to take because you knew you should be in a bit more pain than you were, given that you were stabbed. But here, lying in his arms, you couldn’t imagine why you would even complain.

“What happened to the guy?” you ask. There was no need to reference which one. You wondered if Malcolm had seen the guard stab you or had just found your body crumpled on the floor.

Carding his fingers through your hair, Malcolm turned his lips towards you, pressing them against your temple and holding you tight. “Did I ever tell you why I fell in love with you?” You couldn’t help notice how he hadn’t answered. You didn’t care either.

“No,” you whisper.

“It was stupid,” he said, his chest rumbling with laughter. “It was when you were trying to quit smoking. I think it was day three or four and you were pacing the back halls of that shitty little tavern you like. The Terrible Clam?”

“Pathetic Clam,” you correct. Though saying it out loud you realized how not better that was.

“Right,” he snickered. “Anyway, you were pacing the back halls, running a hole in the damn floor. I remember wandering back there, and you were mumbling to yourself, pulling at your hair and tapping your lips. And I just stood there. Watching you. And I realized, I love this idiot. You looked crazed, but you were trying so damn hard not to walk out and take the cigarette some random guy offered you, and I just felt so fucking proud of you for holding out. You looked beautiful in that moment.”

Turning, you lift your eyes to him, watching as his own gaze was far off. Lost in a memory of a much younger you, going through a smoke withdrawal that would haunt you to this day. “If I remember correctly, later that night you got pissed at me, took a cigarette and threw it at my feet and told me to fucking blacken my lungs.”

Malcolm smirked. “You can get rather annoying when you’re in the throes of one of your dramas. And I more than made up for it later.”

“Only because you felt bad that Hazel’s fucking cat had shredded the shit out of my leg.”

Flopping your head back onto his chest, you settle against him. The setting sun came in from the large windows, drifting across the two of you in amber light. The rich smell of kafe drifted from his kitchens and somewhere, you could hear the familiar sounds of Hazel humming. It was perfect. Absolutely perfect. And sent a lump careening up your throat.

“Malcolm, I’m in over my head,” you choke out, feeling what you knew was on the horizon began to shake through you.

“I know.”

“What am I going to do?”

He held you impossibly tighter. “What we always do in these situations. Survive.”

“I didn’t get the key. The Baron is going to…” he kisses you then. Twisting around, he kisses you, pressing you back into the pillows and pinning you to the bed. Desperately, you reached out for him, tugging him close and feeling the way his hips slot against your own. It was messy, full of teeth and tears you hadn’t realized you had been crying and every inch of you aches with fear and uncertainty and the overwhelming need to just beg him to be in your life again. Beg yourself to let it all happen.

When he pulls away, he cupped your face between his palms. “We are going to get through this,” he whispers. “I’m not letting you do this alone anymore.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means that for tonight, I want you here. I want you in my bed. I want to have dinner with Hazel and I want us to be a family again. And then I want to send her to the the guest room, pin you to the nearest surface, and worship every damn inch of your body because I’ve missed it more than anything else in this world. I’m done with this, Button. I let you go once and I don’t want to do it again.”

Voting closed! Part 26 here

Yes. Yes to all of it.

Gently tell him no. You need to go fix things with the Baron of the Mists.

Tell him there will be plenty of time for that. Both of you need to go deal with the key and the Baron of the Mists.

If you haven't seen, Chapter Two of the Night Market is now out! It is linked below if you're interested. Reblogs and feedback are also love! Also, there is a Paper Lanterns discord now. Click the link below to join.

Patreon || Ko-fi || Demo || Discord

#paper lanterns #if wip #community fun #community if #interactive fiction #hazel albright #malcolm albright #:)

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downrightembarassing · 2 years ago

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Seeing Double

Mysterious lanky blue Duros walks into your bar. I suck at a summary but I’m pretty sure y’all can figure out what’s happening here.

My usual special brand of not being a writer at all, with the added spice of me writing this while working 16 hours a day. So I hope it’s coherent but we’ll see. Proofreading is not my jam.

The warnings: F/M, reader insert, dub-con? (Gotta throw that in there I think?), trash, not safe for anything, dual Duros cocks, butt stuff, DP, fingering, idk man I’m not good at this, Cad’s an ass and I’ll stand by that, I have a thing for guys hands?, hence the reason I obsess over Bane, plus butt stuff is fun as hell, lots of my own obsessions in here, TMI, I’m sorry, toxic relationship, not healthy, worst title ever, less gross than the last one I hope?

I’ve read quite a few stories about Bane having a double….you know but a special thank you to @sinisterexaggerator for getting this stuck in my head. Plus they’ve got the best writing ever.

———————————————————————

You tried not to stare, you really did. At first glance lanky blue Duros looked like any of the other rough clientele who frequented this backwater saloon…but there was something about him. Maybe it was the complex breathing device, the broad hat, the sneer on his face as he chewed a toothpick. Maybe it was the arrogant way he moved, settling his lean frame comfortably in a booth, back to the wall, hat pulled down, and boots on the table.

…Maybe it was the fact that the entire room took a collective intake of breath as he walked through the double front doors.

Leaning over the bar you grab the attention of one of the regulars, a Weequay half pickled by the amount of swill he’d purchased here.

“Who’s the blue bastard?”

The Weequay’s eyes, normally unfocused, snapped meet your own.

“Shush!” He hissed back. “That there’s Cad fuckin’ Bane. You’d best not let him hear ya callin’ him names.”

Cad Bane, you’d heard the name before. Some big time bounty hunter involved with crime syndicates the Galaxy over. Idly polishing glasses you study the man. With his hat pulled down low you can’t see his eyes but you take in the jagged canines surrounded by thin lips. His slender body seems deceptively relaxed, and he’s covered head to toe in the tools of his trade. Your polishing slows as he takes one large blue hand, reaches into his coat, and pulls out a fresh toothpick.

Those hands. Huge, strong, dexterous; long blue fingers culminating in wide pads at the tips. You can see the callouses and scars from years of wielding the twin blasters slung around his narrow hips. What would it feel like to have those dangerous hands crawl across your body? Those scarred knuckles pumping the digits in and out of your heat, or wrapped around your throat as he….

He’s looking right at you, his deep red gaze boring into yours. A knowing smirk spreads across his thin lips as he tips his hat.

You almost drop the glass in your hands. There’s definitely a blush rising in your cheeks and you hurriedly glance away, mentally reprimanding yourself for your daydream. With a slight shake of your head, you push the images away and ignore the growing desire in your core. You need this saloon to pay the bills, not to get yourself impaled on some alien’s dick.

——-

Sipping slowly on his drink, the Duros watches the woman behind the bar with the focused interest of a predator. She had definitely ignored him after she was caught staring, but he’s used to that. Everyone stared when he walked in…and they looked away, it came with the territory.

So he uses her discomfort to his advantage and studies her in turn. Lush hips, perfect curves, soft hair, all the things his race lacks. And that blush. Bane almost groaned. Warm blood showing through smooth, soft skin. Being cold blooded himself he knows nothing compares to getting inside a warm little mammal.

The Duros swirls the dregs of his drink as he leans back and considers his options. The job he came to this backwater little moon for is done, credits are transferred, and he’s got the time for some…extracurricular activities.

Decision made, he signals to one of the serving droids to bring him another, leans his hat back, and continues to study his prey for the evening.

——-

It’s closing time and your “helping” the last of the stragglers pay their tabs and stumble out the front door. The previous few hours had gone by in a rush, but with only one fight and minimal broken glass you considered it a pretty calm evening overall. Bustling about behind the bar, you calculate up the last tabs so you can finally head home.

One last bill remains to be paid. You stare at it, slightly confused. Who’s was this again? Whoever they were had more credits than the average customer, there were some expensive items on the ticket. Grumbling under your breath you wrack your brain, trying to remember who to hit up for the money tomorrow. Damn droids forgot to charge someone again.

Credits clink softly as they’re set on the bar top.

You spin around, reaching for the old blaster kept under the sink. You could have sworn no one was left in the building, who could still be…

The blue Duros is leaning against the bar, a toothpick dangling from the smirk twisting across his features.

“Don’ mean ta startle ya li’l lady.” Long fingers pluck the sliver of wood from his mouth and your eyes follow them. “Wanted ta make sure you got your credits.”

That voice. Oh no. That voice is wreaking havoc on you. Deep, gravely, with strange inflections around the rasp from his breathing tubes. Your little daydream slams back into your consciousness.

“Thank you sir, I hope you enjoyed your night” pops out of your customer service trained mouth. A blush begins to stain your cheeks when you realize how ridiculous you sound.

“Just Cad darlin’, Cad Bane.”

He reaches out with one of those massive hands, taking your chin between two long cool fingers, and gently tilts your head up to meet his red eyes.

“Gotta’ ask, what’s a pretty li’l thing like you doin’ here? Dis rough crowd could just…eat cha’ up.”

Your breath hitches, and a shiver runs down your spine. This hunter is dangerous dangerous dangerous. Deep in your brain your instincts are screaming at you, something left over from when humans were just small mammals. It’s squeaking in the back of your head that this is a cold blooded predator, run.

It’s intoxicating.

Meeting his searing gaze you curve your lips into a sultry smile.

“None of that ‘rough’ crowd can keep up with little old me Mister Bane.”

His fingers tighten on your face. A deep rattle emits from his chest.

“Careful princess. Don’ be promisin’ things ya can’t deliver on…”

Your smile deepens. A thrill of excitement rolls down your spine. Making big innocent doe eyes up at the bounty hunter you reply.

“I doubt you can keep up with me….why don’t you try and prove me wrong.”

He inhales, eyes narrowing. Down to business.

“Ya ever take Duros cocks before missy?”

Your brain stutters and your eyes widen. Cocks? What does that mean? A tremor of fear runs through you, layered through a deep wave of arousal. A whimper escapes your lips.

The smirk on the bounty hunter’s face is positively filthy.

“Don’t chu’ worry li’l lady, ol’ Cad Bane is gonna take good care a you.”

——-

Cad Bane is not a man to waste time. Immediately his hands go to your shirt, tearing it particularly in half in his haste to get it open. You gasp at his rough treatment of your clothing and the surge of warmth in your core it produces.

One massive had reaches in to knead your supple flesh while the other claws at your skirt, forcing it down and off your legs. His hands are everywhere, breasts, hips, thighs, ass and back again as he lifts you up to sit on the bar.

Taking a step back he eyes your naked form, panting slightly from his attentions. Slowly he moves his gaze down and back up, halting at your exposed chest. His breath hitches just slightly.

“Fuck I do love me a’ mammal.” He groans out, “warm and soft…” as he reaches those hands for you.

Leaning his head towards your chest he runs his tongue across your rapidly hardening nipple before taking it in his mouth to suck. His mouth is cold, unlike anything you’ve experienced before.

It’s a slightly bizarre sensation, feeling his lips and tongue slowly warm from your body heat. A moan escapes you as you imagine what the rest of this night will feel like.

At the sound of your moan he leans his head back smirks as he pulls off his gloves. The fleshy pad of one long finger taps against your lower lip, requesting entrance.

“Let’s see what cha’ can take.”

Obediently you part your lips and allow him to slide the digit down your throat. Deeper and deeper he pushes into you, until finally his knuckles rest against your teeth. You don’t have much of a gag reflex but this intrusion goes so far beyond anything you’d experienced before. Again you’re struck with the alien feeling of his cold finger warming from your body heat, mind already fuzzing from the sensation.

That long, knuckled digit halfway down your throat…you’re wet already.

Choking slightly around his finger, he gives you a moment to acclimate before he starts to move.

Bane watches intently as he fucks your throat with that one long digit.

After several minutes he finally removes his finger, now completely coated in your saliva. You pant, glassy eyed, and watch him spread your legs with the remaining hand. He arches a brow ridge at you.

“Well damn li’l lady. It a mess down here.” With a wicked smirk he lines up his slicked digit and pushes it inside your dripping core. “Must’a been thinkin’ ‘bout me all night.”

You whimper as he pushes in, unconsciously leaning back and spreading you legs wider to give him…and his hands…better access. He begins to pump, pushing further into your slick heat with each stroke. Soon there’s a second finger stretching and reaching deeper than you thought possible. He continues at a steady, methodical pace as you quickly come completely undone.

Reaching down with his free hand and grabbing one leg he forces it up onto the bar, spreading you open wider for his fingers. Leaning his weight into he rasps into your ear.

“Gonna need you ta cum missy, need ya nice an’ slick for what’s next.” As he increases his pace.

You let go with a guttural moan of pleasure, vision going black as your back arches. Heat floods your core and wetness slicks all the way to your thighs.

Coming down from your high you take stock of the situation. You’re mostly naked, only wearing the tattered remains of your shirt, legs open wide exposing your spasming, dripping cunt to whoever might walk into the bar. Just an absolute mess, panting and twitching from the aftershocks with this Duros’ fingers still knuckle deep.

Bane is the exact opposite. The only item of clothing he’s removed are his gloves. Hell, even the damn hat is still on. He looks just as arrogant and collected and when he first stepped into the bar this afternoon…buried into you. That’s not fair, your orgasm fuzzed brain thinks.

You start to sit up but the bastard actually growls at you, canines flashing in the dim light.

“Don’ cha’ fuckin’ move. Ya had your fun missy, now it’s Cad’s turn.”

His hand continues to move, spreading your juices down down down until…

Your eyes widen. It all clicks.

Cocks. Plural.

Bane FINALLY addresses his own clothing with his spare hand. The blasters drop to the floor as he fumbles slightly with his belt. You’re so distracted by what he’s about to pull out you only grunt as he slips one digit past your tight ring of muscle and slowly stretches you.

Oh. Oh shit…

Two intimidatingly large phallis spill out, already weeping pre-cum. They’re stacked one on top of the other, vaguely familiar shaped, but ridged, and a deep blue. His expression is condescending as he looms over you, one hand playing with your tight hole and the other stroking the lower of his members.

“What cha’ think li’l lady? Still think ya can take a Duros?” as his lips pull back in a sneer.

You inhale sharply and he takes that as an excuse to slip another well lubricated digit inside you. Your breath hisses out, and you force yourself to relax. Meeting his scorching gaze you arch an eyebrow and reply.

“Just make sure I can still walk tomorrow cowboy.”

That rattle sounds deep in his chest as he smirks at you, slowly starting to scissor his fingers.

——-

You’ve never been so full. Dear whatever gods there might be left this is the most intense, euphoric, downright addictive feeling. Bane is as deep as he can go with both cocks. It started out cold, helping to ease the sting, but his flesh has warmed where it meets your own.

He pants above you, strong fingers digging into your hips hard enough to leave bruises to find tomorrow. Pressed onto the bar isn’t the best situation but you’re not complaining at this point.

Hell, you can barely think.

It was a process to get himself plugged into both holes, slicking you and his own twin anatomy with your juices and his. Every push stretched, burned, but every half inch forward released a dizzying level of endorphins that had you begging him to go a little further with each thrust.

——-

Bane hasn’t had a lay like this in….well…..ever. Warmbloods were always incredible but this one….

He’s watching her right now, mewling and twisting beneath him. Trying to get just a little more friction on both his cocks, already lodged to the hilt.

And the heat. By all the dead gods the heat. He’s almost sure there will be blisters but it doesn’t matter. It’s taking all his self control not to pound into that searing warmth inside her, to lose control too soon. His colder anatomy is warming as it’s clenched in her tight holes and he realizes he’s not going to last very long. Might as well make it a good ride while he lasts.

She’s begging. Please move. Please….more.

Can’t leave a lady waiting.

——-

Bane finally flexes his hips and you swear that one twitch dissolves a significant amount of brain cells. This feeling is unlike anything else. The friction, the fullness, it’s brushing that special spot that sends white hot fire up your spine.

He pulls out slightly, pushes back in. A wave of wetness gushes from your stuffed cunt, dripping over him and pooling onto the countertop.

“Yer fuckin’ hot for this, ain’t chu’” he purrs above you. “Takin’ these cocks so…ah…well.”

One hand keeps you spread open for him, the other moves through the slick between your thighs, adding more lubrication as he pumps slowly into your ass. Words, moans, sounds, curses, everything tumbles from your lips while sparks flash at the edges of your vision with every thrust.

A few more pumps, a bit more lubrication, a couple thousand more damaged brain cells when he wraps your legs around his narrow hips. Picking you up off the bar, massive hands splayed across your ass, he presses you against the wall.

And he REALLY starts to move.

——-

Back to the wall, legs spread wide, and arms around the Duros’ neck all you can do is gasp and whine as you drown in pleasure. His hands and forearms support you, face pressed into your neck as he pounds himself into your wet heat. It’s euphoric, the feeling of his twin cocks stimulating your body, stretching you open. His pace is fast and rough as he chases his own release.

Bane mutters obscenities into your neck as he fucks up into you. “So….tight…so so wet…….so fuckin’ so fuckin’ HOT.”

Each word is punctuated by a hard thrust upwards, and the filthy language adds layer upon layer to the pressure building in your core. The sounds echoing through the saloon are obscene, wet flesh against wet flesh as the slick in your core spreads to his lower belly.

You feel his teeth graze your shoulder, sharp canines teasing soft skin.

You feel his hands, those massive thick fingers, clench tighter around your ass.

A deep rasp from the breathing tubes.

“Take it…ah…ALL princess” and he sinks his teeth into your shoulder.

Pain and pleasure. Euphoria.

Body convulsing, heat explodes from your ass, sex, core. White hot it burns up and back down every nerve ending in your body as your vision whites out. The sound that he rips from your throat is animalistic, nothing human in the scream at all.

——-

There’s no chance he’s reaching heaven, not with the way he’s lived his life, but her scorching hot cunt and ass clenching down on his twin cocks is the closest he thinks he’s going to get. Warm blood in his mouth…this little mammal screaming out her pleasure under him.

Or maybe he’s died and gone to purgatory, damned to never feel this again?

Who. Fuckin. Cares.

The tightness of the body around him, the taste, the convulsions and waves of release as she rides out the aftershocks…

Bane cums HARD.

That those tight little holes, spasming as she rides out her climax, makes his vision fuzz as her twitching body milks his release. Pumping hard up into that heat he digs his fangs in harder as he rides out the sensations…filling her up and painting her walls a nice Duros blue.

——-

You’re on the floor, cold tiles pressed into your ass.

How’d you get there? The memory is a little fuzzy.

Looking around…oh yeah. Bane?…Bane is tucking himself away. Those two cocks.

Consciousness slowly returns, the feeling of him pounding into you, the orgasm that melted any remaining thought, and the shock of the cold alien feeling of his cum pumping into you…deep.

Looking down, past your splayed out limbs, you see the slightly blue tinged cum leaking out of both holes onto the bar floor. Gross. Stinging pain on your shoulder. Should definitely get that looked at.

Someone’s going to have to clean that up…I’m going to have to clean that up.

A rattle above your head drags your attention back to Cad. Cad Bane. What the hell did you just do?

One of those large blue hands reaches down, long fingers grab your jaw and force you to focus blurry vision on his face…toothpick firmly clenched between canines.

“Li’l lady….next time imma paint that pretty face ‘o yours” a smirk crawls across his face.

“Thanks for a good ride.”

He picks up his hat, taps the brim in your direction, and walks out the doors.

——-

#cad bane x reader #cad bane #I’m so sorry #writing

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jessicareaper · 3 years ago

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you’re sam and dean. you’re sam and—you gotta be fucking kidding me this is not real. okay. okay. oooookay. either I have had a seizure and this is a hallucination of my dying mind, or this is all real and I’m gonna get smote by chuck in like three minutes because I have plot relevant knowledge in my brain. shit, shouldn’t have said that, make that like 45 seconds until smiting time LOOK. I gotta talk fast and I gotta narrow some things down here. I see we’re in Bobby’s house, great. What is cas up to right now? fighting an angel war, okay cool—by the way you should really appreciate him more. do you not get that he’s doing this to—sorry, sorry, I’m getting off track. do the names jensen ackles and jared padalecki mean anything to you? douchebags, great, okay so that universe? that’s where I’m from. sort of. anyway, things are about to get really shitty—yes, even more shitty, dean, this right now is like, as good as it’s going to be for about 6 or 7 years—you’re about to discover that cas has a solution for…various problems you’re facing right now, and you are going to hate this solution, and it is kind of a shitty solution, but honestly its probably one of the best options you’ve got. there IS another solution that might MAYBE work, but it would involve ruining a 16-year-olds life and probably also end in one of you dying and also cas dying. see, there’s these tablets, and aufcjdgjfiebsbskkdf (that was me getting smote)

#please enjoy the stupidest fucking post ever #this is about how all my self-insert imaginings go #ro post

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wannabe-fic-writer · 3 years ago

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Moment In Time

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Reader

Summary: Just when you've gotten out, you’re given a reason to come back.

Warnings: Mild Language

Chapter 5

* * * * * * *

“You and Fury seem to forget that I’m retired pretty easily.” You say, eyes focused on your surroundings instead of the man talking to you.

A nice breeze flows past, followed by another crowd of passersby. The street is busy as always at this time of day but you always appreciate the hustle and bustle of the city. Something about it appealed to you.

New York has always been busy, for as long as you can remember. Admittedly, with the lack of advanced technology in your time, people spent a lot more time talking to each other in passing than they now spend on their phones.

“No one’s forgotten, except maybe you,” Tony says and you turn to refocus your attention on him.“ Or did you forget that it was you who copped a ride with Fury to Sokovia.”

Of course you didn’t forget that. That mission had been more dangerous and life threatening than any one you’d previously been on.

The man hums and nods, a soft chuckle leaves his lips,“ unless of course you weren’t there for the team.”

“What?” Your eyebrows pinch together,“ what’re you talking about?”

“I’m talkin about you and Romanoff.” He leans forward, pushing his coffee cup away a little.“ Clint told me about that little moment you two had before the city fell. What’d you do? Spring to action when you realized Natasha was in danger?”

Your eyes roll but you avoid answering his question. Cause that is actually what you did. On top of being generally concerned with the safety of your friends, your main focus was Natasha. You’d never admit it, out loud, but you know that’s what happened. And you know why you did, even if you won’t admit it at all.

“Awe, don’t want me exposing your crush on Nat?” He further teases and your nose turns up at him.

“Think I liked you better when you were running around in pjs and building robots and stuff.” He makes an offended face and you smile sarcastically at it.“ If I agree to train the Maximoff kids will you not mention these supposed feelings for Natasha that you assume I have.”

For a moment he looks at you, then nods.“ You’ve got yourself a deal Y/ln. Also,” he pushes his chair back and stands up,“ you’re just training the girl. Rogers apparently has some special plan for Speedy.” Picking up his cup, he claps his hand on your shoulder with extra force, and walks away.

Just as you’re about to slouch into your seat to stay an extra few minutes he calls out for you to come with him and you resist the urge to groan. Sighing softly, you finish your tea and get up.

As you expected Tony takes you to the tower. His choice of music blasts through the sports car and you can’t help but chuckle. Since he was thirteen he’d been obsessed with classic rock. You have no idea what the first song he heard was but whatever it was it hooked him to the genre.

Through the loud music he explains everything you’ll have to go over with Wanda and mentions that he’s getting a facility together upstate that will become the new Avengers HQ, but that move is going to take some time so the tower is still “home” as of now. You nod along, knowing that if not for your enhanced abilities you wouldn’t be able to hear him correctly.

By the time Tony pulls into the private parking garage, whipping into his spot and turning the car off, you completely understand what role you’re about to play in terms of training Wanda.

“What? Eager to get to work?” He asks after you’ve practically sprinted out of the car.

“More like eager to get out before my ears start bleeding.” You tell him, glancing over your shoulder at him to stick your tongue out playfully. You don’t have to keep looking at him to know he rolled his eyes.

The familiarity of the building makes it easy to navigate. Pretty much leaving Tony in the dust, you walk through the lobby to the elevators. Taking them up to the training floor.

Your plan hadn’t been to see anyone just yet. Mainly coming here to form some sort of plan as far as training the Maximoff girl goes. Only for her to be the person you run into once having stepped into the training room.

She’s across the room, fingers running over the edges of a treadmill as her eyes look through the large floor to ceiling window. You imagine she’s taking in the sight the tower provides of New York.

“Beautiful isn’t it?” You ask, effectively grabbing the young woman’s attention. She turns her head to face you, eyebrows pinching together as she’s not familiar with you, only having seen you just before you hugged Natasha in Sokovia.

“It is.” She replies shortly and you chuckle at it, stepping further into the room.

Giving her a soft smile you introduce yourself,“ I’m Y/n,” you move over to the weight benches,“ Stark asked me to come in and help you adjust.”

Her eyes narrow and that draws your attention to the fact that her eyes are green.“ Are you an Avenger? Because I haven’t seen you around here.”

“I am not. I’m supposed to be retired but no one seems to give a damn so here I am.” Spreading your arms a little to emphasize your current location.

For whatever reason your words make her giggle and you smile at that, happy to have broken the ice at least a little.

“So how’re you going to help me adjust Y/n?” Her inquisitive gaze follows her moving closer to you.

“Not sure. What do you need help adjusting to?” Your head tilts and your eyebrow quirks.“ The training regiment? Your new chaotic teammates? Living in New York?”

“Is all of the above an option?” She asks, and although you know she’s serious you still hear the teasing in her tone.

With a quiet laugh you nod,“ all of the above is an option.” You let her know.“ Um, I’m not sure of all the details with the move upstate but how about I show you around the tower and we can go over the basics of your training and such?” You decide to pose it as a question in case she doesn’t want to.

“That would be nice actually.” She smiles and you notice that it’s truly genuine. So with a smile in return, you motion for her to follow you out of the room.

With her being on this floor, you assume she’s seen it all. Not that there’s much to see. It’s the training floor so there’s nothing but gyms and a locker room. Getting in the elevator, you press the number for one of the floors dedicated to just hanging out.

Not liking the silence of the elevators, Wanda breaks it with a question.“ So why didn’t you join the Avengers?”

“Um,” you take a deep breath and release it as a sigh,“ I’d already done the whole superhero thing before. The Avengers came in and I was no longer needed.”

“Oh really?” She asks and her tone of voice makes you chuckle, then nod.“ And what made you want to be a superhero?”

The elevator stops and the doors slide open.“ I saw what they could do. The difference superheroes make in people's lives.”

Picking up on the shift in your energy, Wanda frowns, ignoring the very expensive looking stuff in the room.“ What happened?” She asked carefully, as if she were trying not to trigger something.

“I-” you sigh softly, contemplating whether to actually tell her or not. Looking into her eyes you see past the general curiosity and what you find pushes you to tell her.

So you both get comfortable on one of the couches in the room and you open up to her.“ I was taken by HYDRA when I was fairly young. And it’s not like the guards and scientists were interested in anything other than making me the perfect weapon. So when they started to experiment on me I was already in a horrible state physically. My health was on a steady decline and none of their experiments worked, it actually made me fatally ill. And with no further use of me, they’d left me there to die.”

Wanda listens intently, eyes misting with tears at the information of your mistreatment.“ But you didn’t.”

“No I didn’t,” you both laugh softly at that.“ The, at the time soon to be, founders of SHIELD were working with the US military to shut down HYDRA after World War II and they found the facility I was being held in. While they saved everyone who was being held captive there, I was in the worst shape. Seeing that I was on the verge of death, they made a decision to administer the super soldier serum to me to save my life.”

Wanda’s eyebrows raise and you have to admit that her expression is amusing.“ You’re a super soldier from World War II?” You nod.“ How old would that make you?”

“I’m 90. And I wasn’t in the war. I was born before the war. When it started I was 16 and already in a HYDRA base.”

She looks down and bites her bottom lip. You know she has another question on the tip of her tongue. And with her background, having volunteered to be experimented on by HYDRA, you know she’ll have a lot more questions after that.

So with a deep breath, you ask what’s on her mind and tuck in for a long conversation.

* * *

After a long day at SHIELD, going over papers to further induct the twins into the Avengers, Natasha finally gets back to the tower. She ignores all the SHIELD agents rushing in and out of the lobby and goes straight for the elevators.

Mentally, she admits that after the headache that is going into SHIELD, the sound of your laugh as soon as she gets on the main floor is refreshing. A small smile forms on her face and she makes her way towards the kitchen where she hears your voice.

While she knows you’re friends with the rest of her team, she can’t help but wonder if you came here to see her.

That thought falls short the instant she reaches the kitchen doorway. She quickly finds that the source of your laugh is the same young woman she’d just been recruiting onto her team.

In fact, laughter comes from you and Wanda as you cook together. The aroma smells incredible but she can’t help but to remember that this is the very same thing the two of you had done on multiple occasions.

“Nat, hey, when’d you get here?”

Your voice pulls Natasha from her thoughts and she almost smiles again. Almost.

“A few minutes ago.” She decides to take a step closer, which puts her right in the doorway.“ What’re you two making?”

“Um,” your eyebrows pinch together and you look at Wanda.

“Paprikash.” She answers with a quiet giggle and a shake of her head.

You smile at her then look back up at Natasha,“ we’re making Paprikash.”

The redhead hums, debating with herself on whether she should stay or not. An indescribable feeling nagged in the back of her mind, growing more persistent as she looks at you and Wanda happily interacting with one another. It gradually chips away at her excitement to spend time with you and she hates it.

With a huff she says,“ I’ll leave you two to it.”

She turns on her heel and walks away, effectively dodging the blue blur that is Pietro running into the kitchen, heading back to the elevator. With her floor practically empty due to the move, she wasn’t eager to go up but it seemed more relaxing than watching someone else make you laugh and smile how she did.

Just as the elevator doors have started to close you slip through, narrowly missing getting your arm caught between the doors, and stand directly in front of her. Your eyes scan her form, up to her face and lingering there. She watches as you take her in, your eyes finally meeting.

In a soft voice, one that practically melts her heart, you ask,“ are you okay?” She can’t say she expected you to ask that, plus the equally as soft look in your eyes, she grasps for an answer. One that isn’t ‘I didn’t like seeing you so happy with someone else’.

“Just tired. It’s been a long day and my floor isn’t exactly relaxation friendly right now.” She excuses.

Nodding along, you smile a little at her,“ think I could help with that if you’d let me.” And there’s no way she’s saying no.

That’s how, a little over thirty minutes later, she finds herself following you into your apartment building with takeout bags and beer in hand.

You hadn’t explained the plan until you were picking up the food. Telling her that a change of scenery might be exactly what she needs. Her trying to relax and unwind at the Tower was equivalent to a lawyer trying to relax at their firm.“ You can’t destress from work at work.” You reasoned.

Unlocking your door, you gently push it open and hold it for Natasha. She wasn’t sure what to expect of your apartment, but what she finds definitely isn’t it.

Walking into your apartment makes her a little confused. It’s like stepping into a time vault that housed a number of different eras all at once. While things like your appliances and a few tables or paintings were modern or at least from the last decade, your couch, chairs, and even your cabinets look dated.

It was as if you furnished your home without a single clue of what you actually knew you wanted to present. But it’s you. Natasha finds that it almost perfectly embodies the person she’s come to know you to be.

Since the moment she met you it was clear you were equally as present as you were stuck in the past. Your friendships with Tony and Steve showed that in an ironic way. With Tony the majority of your conversations or bonding was over the future, things he was planning, building, or tinkering with that would change the future. While with Steve you focused on the way things used to be in the era you grew up and were raised in.

“Nice place.” She finally says, moving her eyes from the kitchen to you.“ Very, you.”

The look you give her makes a small giggle leave her lips. You seemed so proud of her first comment and then the second one made you frown, as if you couldn’t tell if you should take it as an insult or a compliment.

“Don’t think too hard Y/ln, your ears are starting to smoke.” She says jokingly, patting your cheek without giving it any thought. Her turning away makes her miss the way you flush at her inconsequential touch.

At your invitation, she makes herself at home, finding a spot on the couch and starting to unpack the food. You join her shortly after with plates and forks, turning the tv on and going to a channel you both enjoy watching.

“How you feelin about the move?” You ask, picking up your plate and leaning back against the couch. Even though the tv is on, Natasha can’t help but notice that all your attention seems to be on her.

While she is definitely used to the attention, men and women alike focusing solely on her because of her looks, your attention is different. She knows it would be unreasonable of her to think you aren’t paying attention to her for her looks because well, when she gives you attention the first thing she looks at is your looks. You’re incredibly attractive, especially to the redhead. But it was more than that.

On both ends, yourself and Natasha saw the physical beauty, but you looked beyond that. You saw the beauty of each other’s personalities.

You’re lighthearted, you have an outlook on life that she finds intriguing, and not just because you’re decades older than her, it was how you maintained a fairly optimistic view on things despite the cards you’d been dealt in the past. On top of that you’re honest and caring, especially to the people you consider friends and family.

As far as she goes, you see her in, almost, the same way she sees you. She’s honest. Shows her care in a way that you find adorable, mainly because it’s so nonchalant. Her will to keep going, to endure the many trials she’s been through. Her strength never fails to amaze you. Not to mention the absolute admiration you have for her in regards to her clearing her ledger. Especially since being an Avenger means so much more to her than just that.

That thought alone sends a rumbling of butterflies in her stomach and she hates how childish it feels but loves it all the same.

“Um,” she looks down, letting her hair curtain between you two to hide the blush that rises.“ I can’t say I feel any particular way about it.”

When she feels your fingers ghost over her cheek, she has half a mind to grab your hand and break it, but it’s you and she’s been secretly craving your touch. In the softest gesture she’d ever been on the end of, you brush her hair back. Your fingers lightly run over her cheek and temple as you hook her hair behind her ear.

She looks over to see you drop your head slightly to catch her eye, a little smile on your face.“ It is okay if you aren’t all that happy to be leaving. The tower has been your home for the last few years. An attachment or even familiarity with it is understandable.”

“I-” she sighs, just barely tilts her head closer to your touch, then lifts her head.“ I’ve never had a home Y/ln.” She knows you can hear the hurt in her words, cause admittedly she didn’t hide it like she usually would. She doesn’t feel the need to with you.

You go quiet for a moment and Natasha wonders if maybe she should’ve kept her somber comment to herself. The instant she considers walling herself off again, you speak.“ Well then maybe,”

She raises an eyebrow at you.“ Maybe what?”

“Maybe this could be your home.” You swallow, nerves manifesting in the way you play with your food.“ I know you’ve only just been here today but, everyone deserves a safe haven. Somewhere they can escape from the rest of the world. Everyone deserves a home.” You finally look back into her eyes,“ especially you Nat.”

You didn’t know but in that moment you got to her in a way no one else ever had. You didn’t tear her walls down. Instead, as if understanding the very reason the walls had been put up in the first place, you built a door to her heart and soul. And only you hold the key to it.

She’s hit with the weight of her feelings for you, feelings she’d never had for anyone before. As terrifying as she finds it, she can’t help but think that if there’s anyone who she could trust to be gentle with these feelings it’s you.

* * * * * * *

Taglist: @owloftheshadows @natasha-danvers @blackxwidowsxwife @yumusak-yastik @b-5by5 @fayhar @lostandsearching @iliketozoneout @thewidowsghost @ecruzsalaz

#natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x you #natasha romanoff x yn #black widow #black widow x reader #black widow x you #black widow x yn #natasha romanoff fic #black widow fic #marvel #marvel x reader #mcu #mcu x reader #reader insert #moment in time

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siriusmydeer · 4 years ago

Note

ooo okay so a James Potter x reader soulmate au where they feel each others pain, and she has a suspicion he's her soulmate but it's confirmed when he falls off his broom, and she hates him being her soulmate because he's in love with lily, but he says that lily doesn't matter anymore blah blah, and she says she first thought it was him when he fell of a bench in the great hall or something after confessing his love for lily in front of the entire school (1)

‘all along that they were soulmates but she tells him its really inconsiderate for being so obvious about his love for lily when he knew he had a soulmate and he feels really guilty and tries to make it up for her and yeah fluff ending please :)’

the painful soulmate

james potter x fem!reader

summary: in a world where you can feel your soulmates pain; your soulmate happens to think someone else is his soulmate

word count: 2.2k

warning: swearing, mentions of verbally abusing someone, mentions of beating people up, injuries; falling in the air, cracked ribs, tripping, face planting. joking name calling, kissing, angst, soulmate au, insinuation of unrequited love, fluff ending

by the age of 16 you and every other witch along with wizard were given a particular... gift. you wouldn’t consider it a gift, more like your worse fucking nightmare but you could squeal and pretend to be all dainty and excited about meeting your soulmate.

i mean why not give someone a choice on who they wanted to love? this wasn’t a game of spin the bottle this was forever.

being the only female in your friend group, made all the boys amongst you ridiculously pry into your privacy. wanting to know who they had to verbally torture considering they would scoop up the ‘precious little baby-girl’ of the group.

coming directly from the drama queen himself; sirius black. it’s not like they could beat up your partner because you would be able to feel his or her pain as-well.

you were sat in the marauders dorm absently playing with your fingers while looking at each of your mates, sirius and remus attempted to finish their plans on a new prank for the newest defence against the dark arts teacher, james sat at his desk table writing up ways to ask lily more dramatically than the last and peter had been figuring out his transfiguration homework from a few days prior.

“prongs, if you know she’s gonna say no, then why ask?” remus questioned not even looked at the sapphire-eyed boy. his only logic being, ‘well ill turn her no into a yes.’ as if coercion was the way to go.

the brunette sat at the table swiftly turning his head in the lyncanthropes direction, his spectacles almost falling down his nose from the quick snap of his head. “well, lily-pad has always said, ‘not in a million years!’ but that means after a million years she’d go out with me.” finishing his speech with a small grin.

the rest of the group on the other hand looked at him dumbfounded. eyebrows either scrunched or furrowed, “james m’afraid that’s not how it works.” you spoke, trying to ease his feelings as if your words could stop his incessant pining.

“well, i’ll just make it work!” turning around and continuing his list, speaking as if he was godric gryffindor coming up with the best idea of the century. “ten galleons she says no again.” sirius quickly whispers in peters direction, the dirty blonde haired boy doing a quick nod then looking back at his parchment.

“i heard that!”

the next time there was a ramble of soulmate talk, which by the way you were getting exhausted from. why did everyone have to have a soulmate? why couldn’t you pick from your own free will? it’s not even like you could have a bloody crush because there was already someone supposedly out there for you!

one free period, ONE! and it’s spent over peter narrowing down his options on all the gryffindor girls he might be paired with. “it’s definitely not marls, peter.” sirius’ pearl irises glanced at peter than over to remus who was trying to teach you how to play wizards chess.

“moony, not to be offensive, but this game sucks arse.” you shrugged, glaring at your queen piece that looked like it wanted to yell at you. as you were twisting around the wood of your pieces, james got up from the bench catching a glimpse of red among the ravenclaw students. instead tripping on the stone of the bench and face planting into the freshly cut grass.

you felt a soreness at the fronts of your calves and an immense discomfort on your face. you grimaced while rubbing your knees trying to soothe the random shoot of exertion through your veins to the point where you almost had the urge to groan.

james quickly scrambled to his feet trying to brush out his hair that had sprinkles of green all over the front, you completely ignored the fact that james’ fall broken by the stone of the bench had caused you to have a twinge of pain into your system.

“none of you saw that.” he panted with slight embarrassment, directing his message to sirius who had his hand clenched into a fist over his lips attempting to cover up the small chortles that were threatening to escape his lips.

“don’t worry, we saw nothing.” you confirmed with an amused grin, putting your two fingers over your lips like a seal.

he grinned back at you twice as hard, your heart starting more of an upbeat frequency that you started to notice as he sat beside you moving a piece that could ruin remus’ chance at winning.

“you slimy git! you’re helping her cheat, you little slag!” remus whined, trying to analyze the board again.

after your recovery, from absolutely nothing. you were sprawled on the scarlet-couch waiting for the rest of your friends to come back from detention. you dazed into a book remus had recently given to you, an icepack laying on your foot as you were almost hypnotized by the pride and prejudice book in your hands.

“oi, m’lady!” sirius abruptly shouted while returning to his common room. you jumped from the stentorian voice, that sunk into the now not-solemn and peaceful common room.

you turned your head seeing the bespectacled boy limp onto the other vermillion couch and rest his leg onto the plush of the pillow, meanwhile, the fawn and dirty blonde haired boys sat in the gryffindor-red love seats tired from their detention.

“what’s wrong with him?” you asked, referring to james’ leg that was propped under the pillow.

“we don’t know, we were walking and he just picked up his foot in agony. who knows maybe lily stubbed her toe.” sirius amused to the rest of the group. but your eyes widened in concern, but you had— there’s absolutely and completely no way. more than one person can stub their toe in one day, not just— just one person.

almost like you were in a daze or hypnotized, as stealth as possible you grabbed the maroon coloured blanket that was rested on the arm rest of the couch you spread it over your legs covering the foot; that you had injured previously that day.

what the fuck. no seriously, what the fuck. there wasn’t— there couldn’t even be— that wouldn’t work. it’s not possible. the butterflies, the flushed face, the nervous ticks— fuck.

over the course of the next few days, you were very careful. you could’ve been mary friggin’ poppins i mean you didn’t want him to get suspicious if you were both injured at the same time. you also did not want to know if he— the boy pining over lily fucking evans since first year was possibly— no there’s no way.

the following week there was a slytherin and gryffindor quidditch game. which also happened to be incredibly nerve wracking not only for you but between both houses, as much as slytherin wanted to seem nonchalant there act was simply not going to work. this determined who would be playing in the quidditch house cup, slytherins also happened to not play the fairest in quidditch so extra gryffindor training was keen.

well now that following week, was today. the game was fine, great even. gryffindor was in the lead and james was about to score a quaffle in the hoop, that was until slytherin beater decided to bat a bludger right into james torso causing him to collapse off his broom twenty five feet into the air with nothing to break his fall. at the reflect of the bludger on james ribs you already groaned hunched over into your seat catches the attention of both peter and sirius.

dumbledore did all the spells he could in such a swiftly manner before james skidded on the muddy grass of the pitch. by then you couldn’t even hold in the moans and groans from his affliction with the hard iron bludger and the fall from the air.

both peter and sirius’ eyes widened and shared a look before taking concern to your arching figure. “m’god i didn’t think it hurt that bad!” you groaned into your hands that could almost be seen as trembling from the agony that you were in as james’ team mates brought him down to the infirmary to check for injuries which he did in-fact have.

after sirius had brought you to your dorm, attempting to do a spell to rid you of most-but not all of your pain he raced to healers wing, seeing james on the verge of unconsciousness as madam pomfrey tried to whip up a potion in a fast manner to heal the boy.

i guess it was true— james was your soulmate. your soulmate in love with another woman that is.

a few hours later james was ordered to stay the night for observation, while both sirius and peter decided to catch up remus along with james up on the other ‘things’ more, or less, that occurred during the quidditch match.

him, and lily.... weren’t soulmates? he thought maybe one day they would’ve ended up together, at some point. not his very best friend being the one he’s ‘destined’ with. but he was desperate to speak with you, how did you know? did you even know? how bad did it hurt? he had so many questions scattered around his brain, until he saw your face that was close to a grimace from pain.

“hi.” you whispered, catching his attention.

“hey.” he whispered back hoarsely, gulping at the sudden tension in the room.

“so we’re—“ “you’re my—“ you both spoke at the same time, following an humourless more-so nervous chuckle, from the both of you.

“how long— did you even know?” james started, looking at your figure as if you didn’t know what to do with yourself.

you sat down nervously, cracking your knuckles as you were unsure where to start. “i thought— i started wondering, that day me and rem were playing chess and you fell.” you cleared your throat while speaking, avoiding eye contact entirely. “my knees started to hurt, but i didn’t even notice it. the day that you came into the common room limping, was when i suspected it.” you wrung your fingers together nervously, then looking into his irises.

“you knew? why didn’t you—“ his anger already starting to get the best of him, you knew that you were his soulmate. you were right in-front of him, but you never told him; he almost felt betrayed.

“i didn’t know! only suspected. but you have to understand, james. you were incessantly pinning after lily, you claimed you were ‘in love with her’. you’re making it seem like it was gonna be so easy for me to tell you that ‘guess what, james! the girl you love actually isn’t your soulmate and it’s your best friend you have no interest in!’ prongs, m’fraud s’not that easy.” you mocked, proving your correct argument to him based on his actions.

he took a shaky breath, analyzing basically his whole life in-front of him. even though he might’ve ‘loved’ lily, you were still more important to him. soulmate or not, he would always go to you first. he could barely stand to fight with you, he couldn’t loose you over some silly crush that he had.

“it doesn’t matter— lily— she doesn’t matter. y/n it’s you, soulmate, not soulmate, who cares! lily or not lily, you’ve always been my go-to, my number one, i mean you’ve always been the most important!” he said drastically while punctuating his words, and flailing his arms in the air to prove his point to you.

you sighed looking at him, almost unsure of his words. he looked at you expectantly before speaking again, “i’ll get on my knees right now and beg to you. with broken— well now bruised but priory broken ribs. not to mention my stubbed toe.” he chuckled at last second trying to humour you.

“oh my g— get up!” you snickered at him, james potter was on his knees fighting all the pride in his system right in-front of you where you were sat. his hands grasped both sides of your thighs trying to soothe you into you forgiving him.

at the sight of him right infront of you, with the best sirius black puppy dog eyes he could muster with a pouted lip you immediately gave in. “fine.” you sighed, “fine, fine, fine.” you giggled.

both of his hands encasing your cheeks, a small pout on your lips. “can i kiss you?” he asked, his elbows resting on your thighs. you looked at him pretending to ponder off in thought; shrugging while you spoke, “hmmm, maybe. i gues—“ he quickly cut you off, kissing your pouted lips in the middle of a sentence.

you kissed back, holding his face between your agile fingers. your right hand resting on his squared jaw and the other in his fluffy and borderline-sweaty hair. your lips slotting together, he could feel the mint taste from the gum you have chewed earlier bleed onto his tastebuds; you on the other hand, not such a memorable taste.

you quickly pulled away, a dramatic whine escaping from his throat. “you remember when you face planted into the dirt earlier?” you giggled while asking him. he looked at you confused; why would... you... be asking if he remembered himself falling?

“erm, yeah i can recall.”

“yeah your mouth tastes like dirt.”

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#james potter one shot #james potter fluff #james potter fic #james potter fanfiction #james potter x oc #james potter x you #james potter #james potter x y/n #james potter x reader #james potter fanart #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter smut #harry potter

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alkalinefrog · 3 years ago

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hey, so, I had an art related question... if all of this is too much, feel free to ignore it.

the backstory is that I've had the same laptop since early high school but recently I had a birthday (I'm 28 now). my parents got me an HP laptop, and my friend got me a tablet, which she bought off of an online friend for $30. the problem is that I haven't had new technology like... ever? none that was actually mine anyway, and certainly nothing that could handle me using it for art.

and this is especially a problem when it comes to the tablet. my friend helped me get firealpaca onto the laptop, and get the tablet set up with the right drivers, aaaaand... I cannot make one line that looks good using it. I've been using pen and paper for so long and I have a really light touch, and it feels like I have to jam the pen down to get it to register, at which point I might as well have not set the pen sensitivity to anything at all because the thickest line is the only kind I can make?? any lighter and it won't show up on the screen at all. like I can ctrl+z and it doesn't even go back a step, the line didn't get drawn. there's like a 20% chance that any line I try to put down won't actually register. and tbh this isn't really what I had wanted... it's a huion tablet, which is the brand I wanted, but I was gonna buy myself one where you can see what you're drawing on the screen of the tablet itself. not just due to coordination issues, I think I could get used to that part, but because I feel like I wouldn't be having this specific problem with getting things to register. every single line I make looks like crap with this tablet, it makes me feel like I might as well be drawing with my feet, and I've been fidgeting with settings, and it doesn't seem like anything helps. I also still don't have a mouse for the laptop yet, so I can't click and drag anything very well because it has a trackpad, so messing with sliders is already aggravating.

I feel so lost and overwhelmed, and like if I buy anything else, I'm just going to end up with more unusable stuff because *I'm* probably the problem. I just don't know anything, and trying is mentally fatiguing me so quickly... my brain knows what I want my art to look like, and my hands can do it with a real pen. I just have absolutely no clue how to make this machine produce anything.

so I guess my questions are stuff like, what equipment do you use? are there tablets that will register a light touch or am I really going to have to be this heavy handed in order to work with one? what resolution/canvas size do you usually work on? any recommendations for what program to use?

overall, I'd really like to get myself something that feels more intuitive than the tablet... honestly, I was finding some success drawing with just my finger on the touch screen of my phone at one point. there were still a lot of problems with that, but the nail in the coffin was that my phone's memory space filled up and I had to get rid of the drawing app to make it functional again (it's an iphone, which is why). maybe I should just get an ipad or something...? though, one more thing on the mountain of potential options is the last thing my crumbling ADHD brain needs. I've been taking a break from art in general because I've still maintained my 40-hours-a-week work schedule through the whole pandemic... I do 10 hour shifts and work overnight, so I technically have free time since I only work 4 days a week, but the type of work I do leaves me with no energy at all. so I've been in an art slump and I've been wanting to get out of it, but this is just making art feel impossible, even though the whole reason why I've always wished I could draw digitally is so that I can color digitally. I had been drawing things in pen and scanning them to color in photoshop, but cleanup takes so long that I literally can't produce finished work anymore. I'm out of options that aren't prohibitively labor intensive and frustrating.

this was probably way too much information, but if you have any advice I'd be really grateful.

Huh, well first off HAPPY BIRTHDAY DUDE!! Congrats on the sweet new tech (even if it's been a bit frustrating) and well-deserved celebration!

From the sounds of it I think the main issue is probably your tablet (this is pure speculation on my end though, so you know, grain of salt and all). You're right in that you shouldn't have to fight against your equipment. I have a really light touch too and I've never had the same issue. I personally don't have any experience with huion tablets, but if you're having trouble getting your lines to register then it might have been worn down by the previous user. It's not so much about buying a monitor (the screen one) vs. tablet so much as getting working equipment.

An iPad is a great alternative!! I've played around with the apple pencil and procreate and it's a super intuitive program with (obviously) super easy set up! You get the drawing on the screen AND really nice pen pressure. I'm really happy seeing it opening up new doors for more people to get into digital art!

In terms of your current laptop/tablet situation:

My set up rn is pretty pricey ngl; I have a PC desktop computer with a 16 inch Wacom Cintiq. Getting started in digital art doesn't mean you have to drop a bag on a ton of equipment right from the get go though! If you're looking for a safe small investment, I'd recommend getting a Wacom Bamboo pen tablet!

This lil' baby right here is what I started with!! I think cost-wise it floats around 70ish bucks, but that's exponentially more affordable than buying a huge monitor. One of my friends who's also a pro artist uses a similar small tablet because it works great! That's an alternative that might be worth looking into.

You can also get free trials on other drawing programs (clip studio paint is a great one!) To test and see if it's a software issue with firealpaca.

You could also try checking online forums to see if anyone else is running into similar issues, or watch some YouTube videos of people reviewing different tablets. I know this might be even more overwhelming, so I'd try and narrow the scope to focus on one thing at a time.

My best advice right now would actually be to get a mouse, or any other accessories you need. I've also been in your shoes where I was completely overwhelmed, and I can say that checking off all the small easy things makes a HUGE difference! It makes you feel more in control of the situation, and even if you're still having trouble with digital art you can at least get more comfortable using your laptop in the mean time.

You got this dude!! I believe in you!!

EDIT:

Thanks @wooliebirds!

#ask #anonymous #advice

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snowdice · 4 years ago

Text

Big Bang (Sort of) Editing Story [Day 54]

I started writing this fic while editing my Big Bang story, but am going to continue doing it for other things now that Kill Dear is out. I will write and publish 100 words of the story every time I finish doing whatever task I’m doing. If you’d like to block these proceedings, please feel free to block the tag proofread stories. I will reblog this post with the parts of the story I do today. Edited chapters are linked; everything else I’ve done so far is under the cut.

My Master Post Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20 Part 21 Part 22

It’s a cleaning day and then maybe an editing day later for what I wrote last night, so we might be doing this for a while (assuming nothing gets in my way.)

Chapter 23

Logan was unsurprised that after showing Virgil the large courtyard, Patton almost immediately decided to instigate a game of tag. They were, after all, here with the goal of getting Virgil a bit active after having had him only in Logan’s room for weeks.

He was also unsurprised that Virgil seemed confused about the concept of tag, and Patton had to explain the game in detail to him.

It made him wince, but he still was unsurprised when Virgil went about inquiring after the consequences of losing the game.

He was, however, very surprised when, after getting all of the facts about tag settle, Patton was chasing after Virgil trying to tag him and suddenly the boy disappeared.

Patton almost ran into a wall in his confusion. He stared at his hands stretched out and just a couple of inches from touching the wall for a moment, before slowly looking up.

“Virgil!” Patton exclaimed. “What?”

“What?” he asked.

“…What are you even hanging onto?”

“The wall,” Virgil replied.

Logan walked closer to the two of them and tilted his head up to look at him. Virgil had jumped up and somehow managed to find hand and foot holes on the seemingly smooth wall. He climbed about 5 meters above their heads and was peering down at them curiously.

“Okay,” Logan said. “New rule. Virgil is not allowed to scale walls during tag.”

Virgil frowned down at him. “Why only me?”

“Because Patton and I cannot do that anyway,” Logan said. “We would not be able to actually play if you remain up there.”

Patton glanced over at him and reached over to touch Logan’s shoulder. “No tag backs,” he said. Logan glared at him. “Why don’t you come down sweetie?”

“But Logan will tag me,” he said.

“Well, honey, that’s part of the fun,” Patton reasoned. “Don’t you want to try being it?”

Virgil seemed to consider this for a long moment. “Okay,” he agreed.

To Logan’s terror, he simply let go of the wall, falling straight down and landing crouched. He blinked at Logan. Right. With a start, Patton took off, so he’d have a head start. “No tag backs means a 10 second head start for me,” Logan reminded. Virgil nodded, and Logan reached out to poke him in the arm before immediately running off in the opposite direction as Patton.

Logan’s strategy worked out since, knowing he couldn’t go after Logan for a few seconds more, he chose to turn and go after Patton. After finding one of the statues to hide behind on the edge of the courtyard, Logan risked glancing back.

Virgil was faster than Logan (and likely Patton) had accounted for. Patton had gotten a good head start on him, but Virgil closed it quickly. Patton shrieked as Virgil barreled into him, bringing them both to the ground.

“Virgil!” Logan heard Patton giggle. Logan figured he was more than okay despite the tackle. “This isn’t how you play tag!”

“I combined tag and tackle hugs,” Virgil declared, making Patton giggle more.

“That’s very innovative, honey,” Patton said. “Now are you going to let me up?...Virgil… I’m counting down your 10 second head start in my head, and if you don’t let me up I’m going to tag you again.”

This did not seem to have the intended effect as Virgil did not remove himself from Patton’s person. Patton laugh when it became clear he was not going to move and began counting down “7, 6, 5, 4, you’d better let me go sweetie, or you’re going to get tagged again.” Virgil did not seem to care. “3, 2, 1.” Patton reached up and bopped him on the nose. “Tag!” he declared.

Logan was surprised when Virgil instantly jumped off Patton at that. He whipped around.

‘Oh,’ Logan thought as the boy’s eyes narrowed in on Logan immediately, ‘I see.’

“Virgil was already halfway across the courtyard towards him before Logan could even think about running away. There was no way that he was fast enough to outrun him. Perhaps he could outthink him, he thought. His eyes scanned his environment in the seconds he had left and landed on a large square piece of stone that held flowers in the spring. It was just full of dirt now, but it was still about waist high. Perhaps if he kept that between them, he could outmaneuver him. He sprinted towards it and scrambled to the opposite side from where Virgil was heading.

He really should not have been as surprised as he was that Virgil did not even slightly slow as he approached the planter box, instead grabbing ahold of the side of it and vaulting over it. Logan stumbled back, bracing for impact, but instead he just got a quick tap on the shoulder.

Logan blinked at him.

“I don’t know if you would be okay with tackle hugs,” he explained.

Logan considered him. “I would be okay with a nontackle hug.”

Virgil happily jumped forward to hug Logan, pressing his nose into Logan’s shoulder. Logan chuckled and patted the top of his head. “Six,” he said, “5, 4, 3…”

Virgil bolted away suddenly, actually making Logan stumble a bit. He paused just out of reach of Logan, looking at him with anticipation. “2,1,” Logan finished with a raised eyebrow. He already knew he was being played with, but he indulged him by starting towards him. Virgil danced out of the way, eyes alight. Logan sighed. “Is this truly how it’s going to be?” he asked.

Virgil didn’t answer, but to watch him with wide, excited eyes.

“Fine,” Logan said. He dashed towards him again, only to have him continue to maneuver just out of Logan’s reach each time Logan went forward. He’d call it taunting if there was any sign of malice in it.

They ran around the courtyard in spirts of Logan charging at him and Virgil expertly dodging. Eventually Patton came closer to them. Logan could tell that Virgil was aware of his presence, by how he glanced back at him briefly, but considering he was not ‘it,’ it seemed he chose to disregard him. However, he was not aware of the way Patton winked at Logan as he walked up behind Virgil.

Logan, on the other hand, knew exactly what was happening. He went to spring for Virgil again, and Virgil again moved to dodge, but this time Patton grabbed him around the waist, allowing Logan to actually tag him.

He turned slowly to face Patton who started to giggle immediately at the perplexed look on his face. It cleared into something else as soon as he heard Patton laugh. “Traitor!” he claimed. “We were on the same team and you betrayed me.”

“I just thought we should probably have mercy on poor Logan,” Patton replied.

“Hmm,” Virgil said, eyes again full of that playful mischief Logan had not seen until today. “Plea for mercy not accepted.”

Patton once again half-shrieked half-laughed as he was pounced on. The two of them went rolling across the grass, Virgil clearly keeping the rolling going longer than it should have as they made it a good few meters.

Virgil sprung off of him a few moments later.

“Oh, is it my turn?” Patton inquired with a huge smile. He slowly got to his feet. “Hmm, I’m probably at about 5, 4, 3, 2, 1!” He took off after Virgil, but Patton had a bit more endurance than Logan, so instead of doing quickly calculated lunges at Virgil as Logan had done, he just ran at him full tilt without stopping.

Virgil ran from him, though Logan was pretty sure he was intentionally slowing himself down a bit so Patton had some amount of a chance. He kept turning to check behind him and make sure Patton was still somewhat close as he ran.

Which is why he didn’t see the imminent disaster in time.

Chapter 24

Thomas should have been paying more attention, but his mind had been on the meeting he’d just had with the castle guards about increased security in the wake of the possible threat from Mocnejsi. He’d decided to take a brief walk around the courtyard to clear his head but was still distracted with mulling over the options that had just been presented to him. He stepped into the castle courtyard and did not have time to step out of the way of the much smaller body rocketing towards him. Virgil slammed into his front, but not before Thomas got a good look at his face.

Virgil’s expression changed dramatically in the few seconds between him registering Thomas was there and running into him. For the briefest moment, Thomas could see that he must have been having a lot of fun. He’d caught the wide smile and sparkling eyes as Virgil turned his head back from looking at Patton who was chasing him across the greenery. He’d looked very happy which made it all the more painful to see that happiness die in and a few instants. When his head had turned back towards Thomas, there was a flicker of confusion at something being in his path.

Then, clearly everything about the situation registered, because his eyes blew wide in horror as he tried to stop himself, but there was no way he’d be able to in time. Thomas saw that fact register on his face the moment before he hit. Gone was any trace of happiness or joy in that split second. All that was left was dread that had no place anywhere near a children’s game of tag. It was the expression Thomas would expect from someone who felt ice give way under their feet in the middle of a lake they had thought was frozen solid.

He hit hard, but he wasn’t nearly big enough to actually harm Thomas. Thomas was thrown slightly off balance but managed to stay on his feet. He reached out a hand to his shoulder automatically to steady the child. There was a moment of pseudo calm where they both absorbed the impact and stilled.

Then, the boy’s shoulder slipped out of Thomas’s grip as he went crashing to the ground in a move that made Thomas wince for the state of his knees. Thomas couldn’t quite grasp what was happening for a moment as Virgil face planted onto the ground in front of him, but when he did, Thomas couldn’t help but flinch and take a step back from him.

Thomas had been bowed to before, of course, seeing as he was a king, but this was not out of respect or courtesy or even just tradition. This was out of terror. He was begging for mercy and it made Thomas feel sick.

“I’m sorry,” he said, meek and shaky into the ground, and there was almost something worse about the fact that he did not beg for forgiveness with his words, but only his posture. The way his breathes came far too quick and shallow said he was likely on the verge of a panic attack, but he was not blubbering through apologies or even not speaking at all. He gave a clear, if shaky, apology, and waited for whatever he thought Thomas planned to do to him. There was no way that was not learned.

“You don’t…” Thomas stuttered. “You don’t have to do that. It’s okay.”

“I’m sorry,” he said again, but he reacted in no other way. He did not even react when Patton made it to his side and knelt down next to him. Patton’s hand hovered over his back, clearly wanting to touch down, but he pulled back on that instinct.

“Virgil, honey,” he said softly. “It’s okay. No one is mad. It was an accident.”

Virgil did not react to this at all.

Thomas caught Logan’s eye as he hurried over to them himself. “Sorry,” Thomas mouthed. Logan just nodded and turned his attention to his friend.

“There is no reason for any of that,” Logan said, his voice firm, almost clipped. “You are not in trouble. Now sit up.”

Virgil did respond to that, slowly shifting back on his knees. He kept his head down looking at the ground. “Sorry,” he said again.

“I…” Thomas said, surveying the three kids on the ground in front of him. Thomas slowly sunk to the ground to be at their level. Virgil was tracking his movements out of the corner of his eyes, his head still bowed and his shoulders tensed. “Hey,” Thomas said softly. “Were you three playing tag?”

Virgil hesitated, eyes flickering as he debated whether he should respond or not.

“Yeah, we were,” Patton answered for him after a moment of stressful silence.

“Well that’s fun,” Thomas said. “I’m sorry for interrupting the three of you. I wasn’t watching where I was going.”

Virgil glanced up at him for just a moment before looking away again. Patton apparently felt it was safe enough to touch Virgil, because he settled a hand on the boys shoulder.

“Yeah, we’ve just been having a fun day,” Patton said, carefully matching Thomas’s light tone. “We went to the garden and did some reading. Then, Mr. Deknis gave us some apples.”

“That’s nice,” Thomas replied. “He’s been talking about the new apples he’s been growing. He’s been working on them for years and they’re just beginning to bare fruit this year. I haven’t gotten a chance to try any yet. Are they any good?”

“They’re very good,” Patton told him. His hand rubbed slowly on Virgil’s back. “Isn’t that right, Virge?”

Virgil nodded a bit, a little less tense now, but still nowhere near calm.

“Well, I’ll have to try them soon,” Thomas said with a smile. “Thank you for the information. Now, I’ve got to get back to what I’m doing, but I hope you three have a good day.”

“I’ll see you later, Dad,” Logan said.

Thomas nodded and pushed himself to his feet. “Goodbye you three,” he said before turning away towards the door back into the castle. He paused to take a breath when the door closed behind him, cutting off the courtyard. There were a lot of thoughts to shirt through in regards to that conversation. He hated that Virgil was so obviously terrified of him. Both of their two interactions had ended with the poor thing panicking on the ground. He wished he had some idea of how to help him or at least someone to talk to about it.

Maybe he’d go visit Mr. Deknis himself and not just for the apples.

Chapter 25

“Alright,” Patton said, pressing a kiss to Virgil’s forehead. “I’ve got to go back to my room for the night. Will you two be okay?”

“We’ll be fine,” Logan said. “It won’t be particularly different than the last two weeks.”

Patton nodded and leaned to the side to squeeze Virgil in another hug. He’d been clingy since the incident in the courtyard, and Virgil had been appreciative considering he was still pretty shaky from it. He was still surprised he’d touched the king of Prijaznia (let alone ran into him) and lived to tell the tale.

“Goodnight, Pat,” Virgil said because he was pretty sure he wouldn’t leave if Virgil didn’t.

“Night Virge,” Patton said with a smile before standing up from where they’d been sitting on the ground. He reached over to hug Logan who was sitting on a chair. “Night Lo! Put the book down and go to bed.”

Logan looked up from his book with a frown.

“It’s almost midnight,” Patton scolded.

Logan sighed and set his book down. “Very well,” he agreed. “We will get ready for bed.”

“You better! I’m going to come and wake you up early in the morning.”

“Early in the morning for you is 9am,” Logan scoffed.

Patton stuck his tongue out at him as he walked backwards out of the door.

Logan gave his book a mournful look once the door closed and Virgil almost giggled. “I won’t tell on you,” he said.

Logan thought about it for a few moments. “No,” he finally said. “We should probably get some sleep.”

Virgil nodded and pushed himself to his feet.

“We should probably both take a bath after sitting in the dirt today,” Logan said. “Do you want to go first or should I?”

“Don’t care,” Virgil answered.

“You can go first,” Logan offered.

Virgil felt himself smile. “You just want to finish the chapter in that book,” he accused.

“Perhaps,” Logan conceded.

Virgil just grinned and walked over to his closet to grab one of the outfits he’d been given for pajamas. He chose a pair of baggy shorts that went past his knees and the huge soft black sweater Logan had found in the back of his closet. He headed into the bathroom, noting Logan had already picked up his book again.

Logan may have declared the both of them dirty enough for bathing a few minutes before, but Virgil was cleaner than he thought he’d ever been before coming to the castle. Logan had taught him how to use the tub and what soaps to use for what a couple of days after he’d arrived and had suggested he clean himself regularly.

Virgil didn’t mind. The tub was enchanted to warm the water inside of it and Virgil loved it. Though, that had the negative affect of making it very difficult to leave.

He cleaned himself up quickly, so he’d have a few minutes to just sit in the water before he felt like he needed to get out and let Logan have a turn. He changed into his pajamas, pulling the crescent shaped protection charm out of his day clothes pocket and storing the warm to the touch stone in the short pocket. He used the clip Patton had made it to pin it to the cloth to make sure he wouldn’t lose it.

Logan was engrossed in his reading by the time that Virgil exited the bathroom. He did not look up as Virgil approached.

“Your turn,” Virgil said to him.

Logan clearly just barely managed to tear his eyes away from the book. “Right,” he said. “Yes.”

“The book will be there in the morning,” Virgil reminded.

“I know,” said Logan sadly as he set the book aside.

Logan never took much time in the bath, so Virgil quickly went about getting ready for bed the rest of the way. He put his day clothes in the basket Logan had for that purpose and started to straighten out the blankets and pillows in the closet.

He heard Logan come back into the room a few minutes later.

“Virgil,” Logan said. “What are you doing?”

Virgil looked over at him. “Getting ready for bed,” he answered, confused.

Logan frowned at him. “You don’t sleep in the closet anymore,” Logan said. “That’s only for when we were worried you might escape.”

“Oh,” Virgil said blinking over at him. “Right.” He felt a slight pulling at his chest. He liked the closet. It was warm and soft. Patton had taken a lot of care with how he’d arranged all of the pillows and blankets. It was the best place he could ever remember having to sleep in his life. Yet, he did not argue. He knew getting to sleep out in the open was supposed to be a reward and he wasn’t about to reject it.

Virgil stood and closed the closet. He tugged on the bottom of his sweater, stretching the fabric between his hands as he watched Logan pull down the covers of his bed and settle down onto it. Cautiously he walked over towards the bed. He wasn’t sure where he should lay down exactly. He dithered for a moment before bending down to sit on the floor near the right side of Logan’s bed and then laying down.

There was shuffling on the bed above him and then Logan’s head popped over the side to squint down at him. “On the bed Virgil,” he said.

Virgil looked up at him in shock. “But it… I’m…” He trailed off and there were a few seconds of silence.

“It is just a bed Virgil,” Logan said.

But it wasn’t ‘just’ anything. Virgil was pretty sure touching the bed of a royal family member without permission would be considered a capital offence. At least, it would in Mocnejsi. Yet, Logan was expecting him to just… crawl into it?

“Please just get up here,” Logan said. Virgil’s caution at touching something he was definitely sure he should not be allowed to be touching wared with his resolve to repay his literal life debt to Logan by doing whatever he wanted.

Feeling honestly a bit sick to his stomach, Virgil slowly pushed himself back to his feet. Logan scooted back over to the left side of the bed, and Virgil cautiously sat down on the empty side of the bed. After a second of hesitation he slowly laid down, his head hitting a soft fluffy pillow. He jumped when Logan flopped the covers on top of both of them.

Virgil took a long moment to absorb the situation while Logan took off his glasses and reached over to turn off the light next to him. He’d never slept in a bed before, or if he had he’d been too young to remember. In the orphanage there was a lack of actual beds due to overcrowding and there had always been someone bigger and stronger that Virgil didn’t dare fight for the use of them. During training, none of the kids had a bed. Only a few of the higher ups had ones at the more permanent training sites. There were very few situations where any of the assassins, at least a Virgil’s level, would be allowed to touch a real bed.

The light switched off, plunging them into darkness.

“Is this…?” Virgil said, eyes still pointed towards the ceiling even though his eyes had not adjusted to the darkness enough to be able to see it. “Do you want… things?”

“Things?” Logan asked.

Virgil did not move his head, but he did reach over and put his hand slightly above Logan’s knee. Logan didn’t move, so Virgil slid his hand up.

Virgil’s wrist was grabbed immediately and pulled firmly away from Logan’s inner thigh. He did not let go afterwards, his fingers squeezing hard, but not quite painfully. “Never,” Logan said, his voice harsher than it had ever been even on the day when Virgil was nothing more than an intruder with deadly intent. “Never offer anything like that to anyone ever again.”

“I was just…”

“I know what you were doing,” Logan said, voice icy, “and it inadmissible. Never offer that again for anything. Do you understand me?”

“I... yes.”

“Promise me.”

Virgil took a short moment to think. “I promise,” he agreed.

“Good,” Logan said, releasing his hand. His voice got softer too. “Good.”

They were silent for a long time after that, though Virgil had no delusions that Logan had fallen asleep. He could almost feel the tension.

“Sorry,” Virgil finally said softly.

“It’s not something you should be apologizing for,” Logan replied. The bed moved as Logan shifted and a hand lightly touched the top of his head. “Just… never.”

“Okay,” Virgil said. He shifted slightly after a moment until his head was in the crook of Logan’s arm. Logan brushed the hair out of his face with the hand that had been on his head.

“Goodnight Virgil,” Logan said.

“Goodnight,” Virgil responded. They were quiet after that, though Virgil was still awake for a while yet and Logan’s hand slowly stroked through his hair for a while. Eventually though, Virgil relaxed into mattress. He stuck his hand into his pocket and curled it around the charm in his pocket. The bed was nice, he thought. It was soft and warm… and safe. He finally fell asleep.

Chapter 26

Patton did their new special knock on the door so Logan and Virgil would know it was just him and they didn’t need to hide the fact that Virgil was sleeping in the prince’s room. He didn’t wait for a response, however, and just shoved open the door. He was surprised to see that Logan was not already out of bed and wondered for a moment if he had broken his promise stayed up way too late reading like he was sometimes known to do. Yet, then, Logan spoke from the bed. “I’m awake,” he called.

Confused, Patton stepped into the room. Logan wasn’t one for lazing around in bed; usually he was out of bed the moment he woke.

He stepped over to the bed and had to stifle a smile when he recognized the problem. Logan was awake, but Virgil was still sleeping, and he was half on top of Logan, his arms wrapped around him.

“Why don’t you just squirm out of his arms like you do me?” Patton asked, keeping his voice low.

“He isn’t like you,” Logan said. He did not bother to quiet himself at all.

“What do you mean?” Patton asked amused.

In answer, Logan started to move as though to squirm out of Virgil’s death grip on him. In response, Virgil made a pitiful mewling sound in his sleep that landed like a piercing blow straight to the heart. Logan stopped moving immediately and Virgil shifted to grip Logan tighter.

“Aw!” Patton said.

“It’s not cute,” Logan insisted. “I’ve been stuck for hours and I have to pee.”

Patton chuckled. “Alright, alright, I’ll save you.” He rounded the bed to Virgil’s side and crawled up on it. “Virgil, honey,” he entreated softly. “I think it’s time for me to get cuddles so Lo can get up.” Patton softly touched Virgil’s shoulder and pulled at him gently. He reached forward to carefully pry Virgil’s arms off of Logan.

Virgil made a more confused than heartbreaking sound this time, turning towards Patton so Patton could wrap his arms around him. Logan managed to scoot towards the edge of the bed.

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Logan made it off the bed and dashed towards the bathroom as Virgil’s arms came around Patton and squeezed. Patton laughed and pressed a soft kiss to his forehead. After a few moments, Virgil’s eyes started to flicker a bit.

“Good morning, honey,” Patton said softly. “Did you sleep good?”

He hummed sleepily. “Beds are nice,” he said. Patton felt a slight pang at that because it implied he didn’t get to sleep in beds very much, but he chose to shove that aside.

“They are,” Patton agreed. Virgil’s eyes started to close again. “Honey,” Patton laughed. “I think it’s time to wake up now.”

Virgil made a sleepy whining sound, squeezing Patton tighter. “Don’t you want breakfast?” Patton asked. That question managed to make Virgil open his eyes again. “I was thinking we could go down to the kitchen to eat that way it’s nice and fresh and I can introduce you to Mama real quick.” He neglected to mention the fact that they really did not have a choice. Mr. Deknis had blabbed to Mama about Virgil, and worse, had apparently mentioned that Virgil was skinny. As soon as he’d gotten home yesterday, he’d been met with an already worked up Mama firmly insisting that she meet Virgil sometime today.

He wasn’t going to tell Virgil that though, because he thought it might scare him away from both Mama and Mr. Deknis.

Virgil thought about the prospect of breakfast for a long moment. “Fine,” he agreed. “I’ll be awake.”

“Good,” Patton said. He reached up to bop him on the nose. Virgil narrowed his eyes and then bopped him back making Patton giggle. He sat up then, and Virgil let him. “Let’s get you something to wear and do your hair,” Patton suggested. Virgil nodded and reluctantly got out of bed, just as Logan returned to the room. “We’re going to go downstairs for breakfast,” Patton told Logan. “That way Virgil can meet my mom.” He gave Logan a significant look and Logan nodded once in understanding that this was not a choice.

Logan and Virgil got dressed, and Patton did Virgil’s hair up nice, before Patton led them out of the royal wing. They went down the main staircase instead of the spiral staircase that went right to the kitchen, mostly because it would be very busy, and Patton thought they should probably eat in the main dining room anyway. He could feel Virgil getting more anxious as they entered the busier part of the castle, and he stuck close to either Patton or Logan from the time they hit the top of the steps all the way to the main dining room.

There were a few people in the dining room already eating breakfast when they arrived. Virgil’s curiosity seemed to temporarily overwhelm his anxiety as he looked around the large hall and at all of the people there. Patton looked around trying to see it through his eyes. He’d been running around this place since he was little, so he never really thought about how big the room was or how grandly it was decorated, but Virgil was just seeing it for the first time. Patton smiled at him as he guided him to one of the seats. There was already muffins on the table so Patton grabbed one and plopped it in front of Virgil.

Virgil frowned down at the muffin dubiously. “You just… keep food out in the open?” he asked.

Right.

“It’s fine, Virgil,” Patton promised. “No one here would have put anything in it.”

Virgil narrowed his eyes and looked around at the other occupants of the room suspiciously.

“Honestly,” Logan said. “No one even knew we would be down here for breakfast. Nobody would just put something in random people’s food for no reason.”

Virgil gave him a look like he’d just told him people could in fact breathe under water. Virgil was really from a… whole different world, wasn’t he?

“It’s really fine,” Patton said. “Logan and I have eaten things on the table like this a lot.”

“I’m surprised your not dead yet,” Virgil said.

Logan rolled his eyes and reached for a muffin. Virgil slapped it out of his hand and onto the floor. “Really?” Logan asked.

Virgil narrowed his eyes at him. “No eating unsecured food!”

“Virgil,” Logan groaned.

“I bet you don’t even know what common poisons taste like.”

“No,” Logan said. “I don’t because I don’t worry about being poisoned on a daily basis!”

“You should!”

People were starting to look over at them. Patton shot an awkward smile at the woman a few chairs down.

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“Just don’t eat the muffins Logan,” Patton said under his breath.

“I do not understand why-”

“Because it’s stupid as he-”

“Shush,” Patton commanded out of the corner of his mouth, “people are watching, and Virgil is just a normal castle resident.”

That shut the both of them up at least.

“No muffins for now,” Patton said. “I assume it’s okay to eat the things they bring straight from the kitchen.”

Virgil looked a bit leery of this still, but he nodded.

“Good,” Patton said, “then we’ll just wait for that to get here and then everyone will be happy, right?”

Logan opened his mouth and Patton turned to glare at him.

“Right?”

Logan closed his mouth, though clearly, he did not want to give in so easily. They’d be doubtlessly rehashing this conversation once they were alone again.

Patton caught sight of one of the kitchen workers he knew fairly well come out of the kitchen and deliver food to a group of people who were there before them. She caught sight of them and walked over likely to ask them what they wanted for breakfast. Patton watched out of the corner of his eye as Virgil tensed, eyeing her approach suspiciously and she slowed under his glare.

This was going to be a long breakfast.

Chapter 27

After an, honestly quite aggravating, breakfast full of Virgil’s cognitive distortions about the likelihood of being poisoned, Logan was relieved to finally be able to leave the dining area. In consideration to those serving breakfast, Patton did not lead them through the door in the back of the dining room that went directly to the kitchen, and instead took them out of the room and down the hall to a different entrance. This one had a guard stationed across from it as, despite what Virgil may believe, the castle workers did consider the possibility that someone would want to sneak into the kitchen for nefarious purposes.

Said guard, of course, saw nothing wrong with the prince and the head chef’s son entering the side door even with the bonus stranger. In fact, he may even have known Virgil could be coming through this door if Ms. Heart had mentioned him.

Though Virgil hadn’t managed to catch it, Logan knew enough about Patton’s mother that he’d surmised that she had insisted Patton bring the boy to meet her. It was bound to happen at some point anyway, Logan knew, and he wasn’t particularly worried. After all, this was Patton’s mother. Virgil himself didn’t even seem particularly concerned.

Logan had seen him panic and, while he tugged a bit at the sweater he was wearing, the motion was not particularly fervent, so he was likely just slightly nervous.

Of course, that may be because he did not know Patton’s mother specifically wanted to meet him and just assumed that they were starting the necessary process of introducing him to castle residents with a low risk person.

When they entered the hallway, Logan could already hear the usual noises of the kitchen: the clattering of plates, the bubble of conversation, and the sound of Ms. Heart’s voice calling out instructions.

He did see Virgil hesitate, but Logan couldn’t sus out why and Patton was already ahead of them and opening the door into the kitchen. It was fairly calm for the kitchen considering it was meal hours. Logan imagined that Patton had chosen the time between when the day guards ate breakfast before their shifts and the night guards after their shifts on purpose. There was still a bit of chaos as dishwashers attempted to catch up during the lull and a few orders were still being made, but overall the mood seemed, to Logan at least, to be light as Ms. Heart ordered her kitchen around.

Yet, Virgil clearly did not see the situation the same way that Logan did. He froze when the kitchen door swung open and some of the workers turned to look at them. He took a step back, bumped into Logan, startled violently, realized it was Logan, and then side stepped to hide behind him. Logan looked back at him in confusion, but Virgil said nothing, proceeding to mutely peer over Logan’s shoulder.

Patton had moved over to greet his mother as she wiped her hands off on a rag. She glanced over at Virgil and Logan and Logan saw Virgil shrink back a bit.

Logan could see Ms. Heart’s eyes soften as she tracked his movement. She turned to the woman next to her and said something before moving to remove her apron and hang it up in its designated area. Virgil’s hands clenched in the fabric of Logan’s shirt when she turned back to him.

“It’s fine, Virgil,” Logan told him, but Virgil didn’t seem to believe him. Luckily, Patton had turned back and seemed to realize something was amiss.

He stepped back over to them. “Hey, honey,” he said. A plate clattered in the kitchen and Virgil just about ripped Logan’s shirt.

Patton frowned sympathetically. “Too loud?”

“Virgil,” Logan said. “You are digging your fingernails into my skin.” Patton shot Logan a glare. “What?”

“How about,” Patton’s mom suggested. Virgil’s fingernails dug more into Logan’s skin. “We go to my office.”

“I think that’s a good idea, Mama,” Patton said. “Come here, Virgil.” He reached over to touch one of Virgil’s hands and had to pull a bit to get him to release Logan. “It’s back that way, away from the kitchen,” he said when he managed to twine their fingers. He stepped around Logan, probably so there was still a buffer between Virgil and the kitchen and tugged him in the correct direction.

Ms. Heart shot a glance at Logan and Logan felt irrationally like she was trying to read his thoughts. Logan smoothed his features out and turned to follow Patton and Virgil towards her office.

As head chef, Ms. Heart had a small office where she could plan menus without the hustle and bustle of the kitchen and have meeting with people who needed to discuss dietary needs and restrictions. It was very well organized, but still looked fairly messy because of the numbers of decorations she had in it. She had a tendency to keep everything that Patton made her, thus she had his childhood drawings on the wall and little projects stacked on her desk and on the shelves. A lumpy cat statue acted as a paperweight on a stack of papers on her desk and there was a vase of fake flowers (as it could not actually hold water) sat near the window.

By the time Logan entered the room, Patton was trying to coax Virgil into sitting down on one of the two mismatched chairs, but Virgil was having none of it. He had turned to face the door and was yanking at his sweater in nervousness.

Logan noticed that Ms. Heart did not come far into the room, instead pausing near the door. She did, however close the door to give them privacy, and that seemed to distress Virgil more.

She seemed to contemplate him for a moment. “Hello,” she said, her voice softer than Logan was used to hearing. “You must be Virgil.”

It seemed as though he were willing himself to magically shrink, but he still replied. “Yes, ma’am,” he said quietly.

“It’s nice to meet you,” she said. “I’m Patton’s mom.”

“I know, ma’am.”

“There’s no need to be formal, Virgil.”

He hesitated. “Okay,” he said somehow quieter.

Her eyebrows drew together in concern, and it seemed that she decided to result to her default way of making people more comfortable. “Would you kids like some candy?”

Logan saw Patton’s hand squeeze Virgil’s lightly. “That would be great, Mama.”

She nodded and walked forward towards her desk. Virgil turned so his back was never to her. If she noticed, she didn’t react. She just grabbed a small tin off one of her shelves and took the top off. “How about a peppermint candy?” she asked.

She offered the tin out to them. Virgil stared at it like it was a venomous snake. Logan decided to act, stepping forward and taking three of the pieces of peppermint candy from the dish. He stepped over to Virgil and Patton and held out his hand, offering Virgil first choice out of all three.

He hesitated before glancing between Patton and his mother. He must have decided that Patton’s mom wouldn’t risk poisoning Patton and took one of the pieces. Patton took another one of them and popped it into his mouth. Logan ate the last piece.

“Thanks,” Virgil said to Ms. Heart before placing his piece in his mouth.

Logan watched Virgil’s eyes light up a bit when the flavor registered. His posture didn’t completely relax, but he seemed at least a bit less like he was contemplating jumping through the window. His trust was almost worryingly easy to buy sometimes. All it took was a not poisoned peppermint.

Ms. Heart seemed pleased by his reaction. “I’m actually going to be making some new ones soon and I’m trying to get rid of these. Would you like to take another one for later?” she asked, holding out the tin.

He looked at it warily again, but he still stepped closer slowly and took another piece. “Thank you.”

“Anytime,” Ms. Heart said, eyes looking over him intensely. “You look like you could do to with a few more sweets every so often.”

Virgil tilted his head in that way he did when he was particularly perplexed.

Patton giggled a bit. “She means your skinny.”

“Oh,” Virgil said. “Logan already gave me a malnutrition potion for that.”

“Did he now?” she asked, her eyes flickering to Logan. Logan winced. He was definitely in trouble for not bringing him directly to her. He was sure he’d hear all about it as soon as she caught him without Virgil in the room.

She turned back to Virgil with a smile, and Logan imagined Virgil had no idea how dead Logan was. “Well, that’s a very good start, but if there was need for a nutrition potion, we should be careful to make sure you get enough calories and nutrients every day going forward.” She sat down at her desk. “Why don’t you and I talk for a bit about making sure you get some good food.”

He still looked cautious but was predictably enticed by the promise of food. He did not sit still, but he did put his hands on the back of one of the chairs and slightly lean on it. “Yes, ma’am,” he agreed.

“Okay,” she said. “Well, I’m going to have a few more specific questions, but let’s just start with what are your favorite foods?”

“I’ll eat anything,” Virgil replied immediately.

“He really likes chicken alfredo,” Patton contributed.

Virgil perked up at the name of the food. “I did like that,” he agreed.

“Alright,” Ms. Heart replied. That’s a start.

Chapter 28

Thomas did not have to be told that something had gotten Helen Heart in a tizzy. He could tell just by the amount of food she had sent up on his dinner tray. She always made and pushed more food when she was stressed, and he couldn’t help but chuckle when he found both a hearty serving of roast beef and a mini chicken pot pie on his plate along with three vegetable side dishes and a side of macaroni and cheese.

He could also guess what had happened to illicit such a response. Thomas had caught up to Jeffers Deknis in his garden and they’d spoken at length about Logan and Patton’s new friend.

There was no way that after said discussion, Jeff had not mentioned Virgil (and more importantly his friendship with Patton) to Helen during their daily gossip sessions. There was also no way that Helen had heard the words “child” and “too small” in a sentence and hadn’t flipped. From there the inevitable sequence of events was clear: Patton went home, Helen talked his ear off until he agreed to bring Virgil to meet her, Helen met him and immediately committed herself to making sure he ate three square meals a day as well as multiple snacks.

Thomas had sussed all of that out before the kitchen worker bringing him his dinner had mentioned what had happened that day.

That in mind, he decided to wait until after dinner should have been cleaned up before walking his own dinner leftovers down to the kitchens.

Thomas was unsurprised to see Jeff already in the kitchen. He was sat at a small table off to the side where kitchen workers usually took their breaks. The only person other than Jeff and Helen left in the kitchen was a dishwasher who was finishing up. Helen usually spent a couple of hours after dinner in her kitchen or her office organizing for the next day and in case anyone needed food on an off hour, and then there was a night cook who would take over so she could go back to her set of rooms.

Helen took the tray of leftovers from Thomas herself and shooed the dishwasher out of the way. “I’ll handle the rest myself,” she told the girl. “You can leave.”

She nodded and started to take her apron off. Helen dumped the tray on the counter without care and turned back around to usher Thomas into one of the kitchen chairs. Thomas went willingly and she turned to fill the tea kettle with water and set it on the stove.

“It take it she met Virgil,” Thomas said to Jeff.

“She’s adopted Virgil,” Jeff replied, taking a bite out of a cookie.

“And what of it?” she asked. “Someone obviously needs to feed the boy. Speaking of, you’re grounding your son by the way.”

Thomas took one of the cookies for himself. “Why am I grounding Logan?” he asked.

“He was worried enough about his health to make him a nutrition potion, but still did not bring him to me,” she harrumphed.

“I see,” Thomas replied.

“In Logan’s defense,” Jeff interrupted. “the boy seems rather timid. He may have worried about you scaring him off.”

Helen slapped him with a dishtowel.

“Actually,” Jeff continued. “From what I’ve gathered he didn’t have contact with anyone since the time I saw him a couple of weeks ago until now.”

“Any adults,” Thomas corrected with a frown. “I’m pretty sure he, Patton, and Logan must have been around each other considering how close they already seem to be.” He paused, “Logan implied he wasn’t particularly… comfortable around adults.”

“I did get that impression, yes,” Helen said, pouring the hot water from the kettle into a tea pot and carrying it and some cups over to the table.

“He was incredibly jumpy,” Jeff confirmed. “I imagine he does not have good experiences with many people, but he seems to have grown attached to Logan and Patton. He defers to them in most things and seemed a bit protective.

“Where did he come from?” Thomas asked.

“I’m not sure,” Jeff said. “I found him hiding in the garden shed a couple of weeks ago.”

“Did he sneak in?” Thomas asked.

“That’s what I would have thought,” Jeff replied, “but when I asked, he said he wasn’t trying to steal anything and that he was supposed to be in the castle. So, I’d assumed that meant he was the child of someone living in the caste.”

“But neither of us could find anyone who knew him,” Helen said. “Of course, we didn’t even know his name until now.” She seemed to decide the tea leaves had sat long enough because she started to pour them each a cup of tea.

Thomas took a sip. “Earl Grey,” he commented. “I guess I’m not sleeping much tonight.” It was her ‘planning tea.’

“We need a plan,” she said, “but we’re going to have to be gentle.”

“At least with Virgil,” Jeff said.

Thomas laughed lightly, “and what do you plan to do with the other two?”

“I have my ways.”

Helen rolled her eyes. “You say that,” she said, “but you’re too soft. The two of them learned to run circles around you and your powers years ago.”

“We should talk to them though,” Thomas said. “Separately from Virgil.”

“We should,” Helen agreed. “I already spoke to Patton a bit yesterday, but I will again. We should see if we can ask around and find out why he’s in the castle. We don’t even know how long he’s lived here. Or who brought him here.” The look on her face told Thomas she wanted to have a talk with his guardians whoever and wherever they were.

Helen took a drink of tea, it seemed to calm herself. “We need to make sure whatever has been happening to him is not happening in these walls,” she said.

Thomas had honestly… not thought about that. He’d assumed whatever made Virgil so skittish was in the past, but it was possible that it was ongoing. The thought made him sick.

“Perhaps you should try to talk to him, Thomas,” Helen suggested.

Thomas winced. “I am not sure that is a good idea...”

“Why not?”

“We don’t have the best track record… I don’t think me being around him would be a good idea.”

“Oh, please, Thomas,” Helen said disbelievingly.

“No, you don’t understand,” Thomas said. “He seems disproportionately afraid of me. I think it’s a mix of me being king and how we met.”

“How did you meet?” Helen asked.

“I… gave him a bit of a fright,” Thomas admitted. “Logan and Patton weren’t in the room and I didn’t know who he was. He… ended up under the bed. Then… the second time I saw him he accidently ran into me. He freaked out again.” The memory still made Thomas feel gross. It also made him think there was a lot more to his backstory than the three of them understood.

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“Perhaps Jeff can try to talk to him then,” Helen said. “It sounds like he was calmest around you. I’ll push Patton towards taking him to the garden more often. I bet fresh air would do him some good anyway.”

Jeff nodded. “I will try to talk to him a bit more.”

“Great,” Helen said, but Thomas already knew the conversation wasn’t over. “Now we need to talk about strategic events to throw over the next few months that Patton and Logan to invite Virgil to. We’ll start slow, but we need to make sure he feels welcome in the castle.”

Thomas met Jeff’s eyes. Yeah, it was going to be a long night.

Chapter 29

Virgil finished eating the breakfast Patton’s mom had sent for him. It had been going on a week since she’d made the menu for him. She sent up little cards with each meal and he was supposed to rate each thing she sent on a scale from 1-5. Logan would read it to him before he ate, and Virgil mark the little box on the card. Usually, he would put a 4 for everything (he had tried to do 5, but Logan had told him 5 was reserved for things like chicken alfredo). Three was for things that he was neutral on, 2 was for things he didn’t like but could tolerate, and 1 was for things he didn’t like. So far, the only 3 was the unseasoned porridge she’d sent one day.

“Finished?” Logan asked.

“Yeah,” Virgil said.

“What would you like to do today?” Logan asked. “Patton is busy until after lunch, and then we thought you might like to go back to the garden again. It’s supposed to drop in temperature over the next few days, so it will be the last good day for it.”

“Sounds good,” Virgil said. “I don’t care what we do today though.”

“Well, there are a few options,” Logan said.

“What do you want to do?” Virgil asked.

Logan made an expression, and Virgil titled his head. “I’m don’t have anything in particular I want to do,” he said.

“You’re lying,” Virgil said immediately.

“You would not be interested in the activity I wish to partake in,” Logan said.

Virgil squinted at him. “I’d be interested in laying on the ground and staring at the ceiling.”

Logan chuckled. “No, truly. The activity I would do if you were not present would involve reading.”

“You can read to me,” Virgil suggested.

“…In Sanskrit.”

Virgil frowned at him. “Isn’t that, like, some sort of dead language?”

“It is,” Logan said. “I taught myself to read it to read a specific book called the Pragilium Text. It’s an encoded book that leads to a magical location that I have been trying to decode for years.”

“That’s fine,” Virgil said. “You can do that.”

“It would be in the library,” Logan said.

“Okay.”

“But…” Logan said. “It would in no way be interesting to you.”

Virgil shrugged. “Like I said. I’m content to lie on the floor for a few hours.”

Logan frowned. “I can’t make you do that.”

“You wouldn’t be making me,” Virgil said. “I want to go. Maybe you can find me an easy book I could try to read?”

“Are you certain?” he asked.

Virgil nodded, decisively.

“Very well, get dressed and I will show you the library.”

Virgil stood to do so and a few minutes later, Logan was leading him out of the royal wing.

Both of the guards greeted him kindly, and Virgil hunched his shoulders in a bit, but said a soft “hi.”

The library didn’t end up being too far away. It was through the small dining hall and to the left where the staircase to the kitchen was to the right.

“This is not the main library,” Logan said. “It is just a smaller one. The royal librarian comes here only about once a week to organize. Some other castle residents might come in too, but it is usually mostly empty.” Virgil could tell just by listening for a few seconds that the place was likely empty (unless someone was lying in wait).

“I’ll look and see if there is something simple for you in case you’d like to read. You can explore a bit if you’d like,” Logan said.

Virgil nodded and stalked off into the shelves to secure the area. There were many books, not that he could quite read any of the spines. The bookcases were mostly cramped into the space. There was the open area where they’d come in with a few comfy chairs and Virgil found a desk near one of the windows. It had stacks of books including one pretty large and old one. He looked at it curiously.

Virgil heard Logan’s footsteps approach from down an aisle. “That’s the Pragilium text,” he said.

“It’s pretty,” Virgil said, looking at the design etched into the cover.

“Yes,” Logan agreed. He reached forward to touch it and opened it carefully. The print was small and didn’t look like the letters Logan had taught him so far. There was a small map on the side that Virgil could at least guess at the meaning of.

“You can read that?” Virgil asked.

“I can,” Logan said. “Very few people can though.”

“Wow, you’re really smart.”

“Thank you,” Logan said with a smile.

“Now,” Logan continued. “I found you a book. I apologize as its subject matter is for younger children, but it has many pictures that can help give you context when you don’t know something. You don’t have to read it if you do not wish to, especially as we haven’t gotten very far in our lessons, but I thought you might like the challenge.

He handed him the book and Virgil took it with a smile. “I’ll try to read it,” he said.

“Well, you have free reign of the library. Feel free to continue to explore and to interrupt me if you need to.”

Virgil nodded and took the book before deciding to finish his sweep of the library. It turned out that appearances were not deceiving, and the library truly was empty. Once he was certain about that, he looked around for a comfortable place to settle down and try to read the book Logan had handed him. He found a sturdy looking bookshelf near where Logan was reading at his desk. He scaled it quickly. It was a little bit dusty at the top, but it wasn’t a bad place. It was close to the ceiling and kept him hidden pretty well, but still gave him enough room to pop up onto his elbows. If he looked left, he could see Logan down bellow with his head in the book, but if he looked right, he could see the entrance to the library.

He pulled the book in front of him and looked at the cover. It was covered in drawings of different colored flowers. One simple white flower was in the center and there were three words on the cover. He squinted at it and silently tried to sound it out based on what Logan had taught him so far. He could guess that the larger word was ‘flowers’ based on context. So, he was pretty sure it read How Flowers Grow.

He flipped open the book. Logan was right, there were many hand drawn beautiful pictures. He could pretty much understand what was happening just from them even if he couldn’t read all of the words.

It was an interesting book even if he couldn’t read it and it was obviously made for small children. Judging by the pictures it seemed to be detailing how plants, or at least, flowers grew through some kid planting and caring for a flower over the course of some amount of time.

Virgil had, of course, known flowers grew from seeds, but it was interesting to see things about how the stem would pop out of the seed in the ground and things about the roots growing.

He more looked through the pictures than read it the first time but had flipped back to the front to try to read the words when he heard the library door open.

Virgil perked up in awareness, but then settled when he recognized Patton’s footsteps. Virgil tilted his head to watch as he walk directly to Logan’s hideaway.

“Hi,” he said, gaining Logan’s attention.

“Hello, Patton,” Logan replied. He glanced at the window and must have seen that time had passed because he closed his book and shuffled his papers.

“The guards said you came here,” Patton said, glancing around. “Where’s Virgil?”

Instead of letting Logan answer that question, Virgil pulled himself forward, with the book in one hand and slid off the bookshelf to land lightly on his feet next to Patton.

Patton screamed before slapping a hand over his mouth.

Logan had placed his hand over his heart. “Where on Earth did you come from?” he asked.

Virgil blinked at him and then pointed to the bookshelf he’d been on top of.

“How long were you up there?” Logan asked.

“Pretty much the whole time,” Virgil answered.

“I…” Logan said. “I didn’t even know.”

Virgil squinted at him. “You need to learn to look up.”

Patton giggled.

Virgil turned on him. “You need to learn to case the area.”

“Oh honey, your shirt is all covered in dust,” Patton said instead of responding to his very valid criticism. Virgil frowned. “Let’s get you changed and then go grab some lunch.”

“Lunch?” Virgil asked.

Patton chuckled and grabbed his hand. “Yes, sweetie, lunch. Then garden.”

“Fine,” Virgil said. “But you do need to learn to be more observant.

“Yes, yes, whatever you say,” Patton said.

Logan just rolled his eyes.

Chapter 30

After lunch, Patton and Logan took Virgil out into the garden to walk around. They let Virgil lead them around wherever he wanted to in the garden. A bunch more flowers had died since the last time they’d been out here, and Patton felt sad despite having never felt very sad about that sort of thing before. But, Virgil seemed to really like the flower he’d found last time, so Patton thought he was probably sad on the boy’s behalf.

Of course, Patton thought, perking up, eventually it would be spring, and Virgil could get to not only see flowers but see all of the flowers grow. Patton couldn’t wait to see him amongst the garden then.

Virgil took them wandering through the orchard for a while, but most of the trees had been stripped of their fruits. They ended up in the food garden after a bit, and Virgil finally seemed to decide on the direction instead of just ambling about.

A few seconds after Patton noticed Virgil seemingly decide on a destination, Patton noticed Mr. Deknis kneeling on the ground a few feet away. Had… had Virgil been looking for him? Patton wondered. That was adorable.

Mr. Deknis looked up as they approached and smiled at them.

“Hello, Mr. Deknis,” Patton said as they came closer.

“Hello you three,” Mr. Deknis said. “Getting into trouble?”

“No,” Virgil said, shaking his head.

Mr. Deknis gave him a flash of a smile. “I know, I’m joking,” he said. “Especially since there isn’t much left in my gardens for certain princes to destroy with experiments.”

“Oh, okay,” Virgil said. He tilted his head. “What are you doing?”

“I’m getting the last of the acorn squash out,” Mr. Deknis replied. “It’s the last crop to get finished. Good thing too, it’s supposed to start snowing soon.”

Virgil looked down curiously at the dark green squash.

“Would you like to help me pick a couple?” Mr. Deknis asked.

“Sure,” Virgil said, sounding interested. Mr. Deknis patted the ground beside him and Virgil knelt down to watch him.

“They’re not too difficult to harvest,” he said. “You just cut the fruit off the stem. You want to leave about a hand’s width of the stem left over which will help preserve moisture. The earlier harvests, I left in the field to cure in the sun for a couple weeks, but the frost’ll ruin them so we’ll take them inside the green house and let them sit in the sun for a bit there. We also want to keep the leaves. You’ll probably be eating those for dinner tonight since they have to be cooked up within about 24 hours after they’re picked. Patton’s mom makes a good side dish with them and she’ll be making some curry tomorrow, probably. Maybe some stew if there are some leftover.”

“Put the squash in this wheelbarrow and the leaves into this pile, okay?” Virgil nodded and Mr. Deknis handed him the extra pair of gloves and shears he carried with him in case one set broke. “These might be a bit big on your, but they should work for now.”

Mr. Deknis looked up at Patton and Logan. “Would the two of you like to help?” he asked. “I can get some more equipment.”

“I can help out if you want, but you don’t need to stop and get more equipment just for me,” Patton said.

“The same for me,” Logan said.

“Well, if you’d like to help still, you can sort the leave. Give your mother a head start.”

“Sure,” Patton said. He and Logan went to do that while Mr. Deknis and Virgil worked on cutting the squashes from the vine.

“What do you do during the winter?” Virgil asked curiously. “If this is your last crop.”

“Well, at the beginning, I mostly will be working on making sure things are stored correctly along with some of the kitchen staff. There’s some drying to do and some canning. After that’s done, I’ll spend some time organizing and planning. Then, before the spring comes, I’ll start preparing seedlings in the green house.”

“Seedlings?” he asked.

“I let seeds start to grow in the greenhouse that I replant once it gets warm enough.”

“Why don’t you just plant them where they’re going?”

“I do for some,” he said, “but giving some a head start is good for them.”

Patton watched as Virgil continued to ask questions about gardening while working on harvesting the squash. Mr. Deknis continued to answer them in a calm, soft tone that Patton didn’t think he’d ever heard from the often gruff man before.

Patton wasn’t surprised when, after finishing getting most of the squash off of the vine, Mr. Deknis asked if Virgil wanted to help him with canning some pears in a couple of days. Virgil immediately looked over at Logan and Patton as though asking permission.

“Say yes if you want to Virgil,” Logan said.

“Yes,” Virgil said as soon as he was given permission. Mr. Deknis smiled at him softly and started loading the last of the squash into the wheelbarrow. Patton offered to run the squash leaves to the kitchen while Logan and Virgil helped Mr. Deknis take the actual squash to the green house.

He dropped the leaves off to a kitchen worker since Mama was busy and headed back out to the garden. By the time he returned, Logan was already back from the green house and sitting by one of the more decorative trees near the castle.

“He’s exploring,” Logan said, nodding at the large patch of bushes.

Patton chuckled. “I see.” He sat next to Logan. Every so often he’d hear the bushes rustle, but he couldn’t tell if it was actually Virgil or an animal.

“He’s adorable,” Patton commented, keeping an ear out.

Logan hummed.

“I’m glad we kept him.”

“He isn’t a pet, Patton.”

Patton rolled his eyes. “I know, but I’m still glad. I’m glad he’s making friends with Mr. Deknis. Once he knows how to read better, we should get him a book about gardening. He seems interested.”

Logan nodded. “Having a hobby would be good for him. Clearly he has a fascination with the garden.” He nodded to the blur of dark hair that could be seen through the bushes. It seemed Virgil had stopped his exploration and was now laying down in the bushes a few feet away.

“I’m going to go see what he’s doing,” Patton said. “I’ll be right back.”

Logan nodded and Patton got to his feet. The bushes were part of a small maze that was filled with flowers during the spring and summer months but were mostly just green and brown bushes for now. Despite the fact that Patton had been able to see him only a few feet away, it took him a while to wind through the path to where he was. When he finally turned the last corner and he came into view, Patton gasped softly.

“Ghost kitty!” he said, making sure to make his voice as quiet as possible.

Despite how soft he made his voice, two pairs of eyes shot over to him. The completely black kitten was perched on Virgil’s lap like she belonged there. Ghost Kitty hissed slightly, but Virgil reached forward to pet her head gently.

“This is Ghost Kitty?” Virgil asked. “I thought you said she was hard to pet.”

“She is,” Patton said. He lowered himself onto the ground from a few feet away from them. “How did you get her to come to you?”

Virgil glanced down at the cat and shrugged, scratching one of her ears. “She just came over to me and let me pet her.”

“Wow,” Patton said softly. He looked at the cat. “Could I pet you sweetie?” he asked, holding out a hand in her direction. She hissed again.

Virgil frowned down at her. “It’s Patton,” he said as though he expected to understand his words and the exasperation in the tone he said them in.

He pet the cat’s head to soothe her and then reached over to grab Patton’s hand. He pulled and Patton carefully leaned a bit closer until his hand was within sniffing distance. Ghost Kitty sniffed his fingers contemplatively and then bumped her head against it. He barely restrained a squeal, knowing that probably wouldn’t be taken well.

He carefully turned his hand over so he could stroke the top of her head. He gently scratched her ear, not daring to go for under her chin yet since she didn’t know him well. “Hi,” he said softly. After a moment, she started to purr softly. Virgil reached over and scratched under her chin and she purred louder. “Oh, you’re a good girl,” Patton breathed, letting a hand trail gently down her back once and then again. Patton settled himself carefully into a seating position continuing to pet her. After a few more moments of soft petting, she hesitantly stepped her front paws onto Patton’s thigh so she was sitting in both of their laps. Patton laughed softly. “Hi sweetie.” He glanced over at Virgil who had a wide smile on his face as he pet the cat. This. This was adorable. They continued to pet the cat for a very long time.

#proofread stories #not writing

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seagreen-meets-grey · 4 years ago

Text

When Lightning Strikes Ch. 17

When your life is nothing but a cloudless sky, lightning can come and strike you so unexpectedly, you won’t even know what hit you.

Or: When Hiccup and Astrid meet, it is as if lightning strikes.

[Chapter 1] [Chapter 2] [Chapter 3] [Chapter 4] [Chapter 5] [Chapter 6] [Chapter 7] [Chapter 8] [Chapter 9] [Chapter 10] [Chapter 11] [Chapter 12] [Chapter 13] [Chapter 14] [Chapter 15] [Chapter 16] [Chapter 18] [Chapter 19] [Chapter 20]

Crossposted on ao3 and ff.net

_______________

“I’m in love with you.”

Fresh raindrops were hitting the windscreen in an increasing rhythm, the backdrop to her thoughts.

“I’m in love with you.”

She turned on the wipers.

“But I can’t be your friend anymore.”

His voice was haunting her, words replaying in her ears over and over, accompanied by an electric jolt stopping her heart for a beat every single time. She almost anticipated a flash of lightning on the horizon, a crack of thunder rolling through her chest.

The drive back to Berk had never felt this long, the allowed driving speed never this slow. Eyes on the road, she fumbled for her phone, managing to connect it to the car one-handed. There was a call that absolutely could not wait.

It rang a few times, then cut off. Did she have no reception here? Didn’t he? Did he decline her call? Nervously tapping her steering wheel, Astrid flung the phone onto the passenger seat. She would try again if she got stuck at a traffic light. But traffic flowed freely and not much later, she parked in the same spot as mere hours before. She couldn’t believe so little time had passed since she had gotten ready for her lunch not-date (that had totally been an unofficial date).

Dashing through the rain, she quickly made it to the front door and rang the doorbell. But after fifteen minutes of repeatedly pressing the button, she concluded that he either wasn’t home or really did not want to open the door. She tried his phone again, but it just kept ringing and ringing. Which was weird, because he had specifically asked her to call him back, hadn’t he? Why would he not answer her calls now? Had he changed his mind, was he mad that she’d just left like that?

She racked her brain for where he could be, but the weather wasn’t leaving her a lot of options. He couldn’t be at work because it was a Sunday. She didn’t know where any of his friends lived. Hell, she only knew two names, maybe three if she counted the ex-girlfriend. Perhaps he’d gone to the forest again, despite the weather?

But his car was still parked to the side. Was he home after all? She tried the doorbell again, then rang for his neighbor. They could let her in so she could pound at his door, just in case his bell wasn’t working.

“Hello?” came a grumpy voice out of the speaker.

“Ah, yes, hi. I’m trying to get a hold of your neighbor, but he’s not opening. Could you let me in, please?”

“No.”

Briefly taken aback, she blinked a couple times. “I really need to–”

“I don’t know you. If they’re not opening, I won’t either. Good day.” The speaker crackled and went silent.

“Yeah, fuck you too,” she mumbled. “You got great neighbors, man.”

He still wasn’t answering her calls. At this point, she didn’t know whether to be annoyed or worried. Texting him a quick ‘where are you????’, she returned to her car and deliberated her next step. One option was to just wait here for him to get back. Call him over and over again until she got a reaction.

“Ugh!” With a frustrated groan, she threw her head back and closed her eyes. There was a way for her to reach someone who knew him, but even if she was successful, it would be a mighty awkward phone call and she would have to swallow a bit of pride.

“I’m in love with you.”

“Dammit!” She hit her steering wheel, accidentally setting off the horn. Hopefully, it had made Hiccup’s neighbor jump.

The next call went unanswered as well, but that only boosted her determination. There was no stopping her, not so close to her happy ending. She wanted to hear his voice, wanted to look into his wonderful eyes and scream at the top of her lungs, let out all her suppressed feelings that she’d been harboring for him ever since the moment his presence had first struck her like lightning. Three words, one breath. The clear answer he needed to hear from her, the one she needed to speak out loud.

She found Dagur’s contact in her list and sent him a short text, hoping he would help her out first and ask annoying questions later. And lo and behold, twelve minutes later, she had Heather Oswald’s number.

She picked up after the fourth ring. “Hello?”

“Hi. This is Astrid Hofferson, um... We’ve met a couple times, I’m–”

“Yeah,” Heather interrupted her in a tone Astrid couldn’t decipher, “I know who you are.”

“Oh, okay. Great. Uh, I’m looking for Hiccup, actually, and he’s not home or answering his phone. You’re the only person I could get a hold of who might know where he is or…”

“I have no idea.”

“Ah, well then, do you have an idea where I could look?”

The line went silent for a moment. “Without a clue about what’s going on, it’s hard to narrow it down.”

“Oh. Well, maybe–”

“Look, Astrid?” Heather interrupted her. “I know it’s not my place to say. But Hiccup is one of my best friends and he’s been pretty depressed because of you for the past two years. He… cares about you a lot.” Astrid tried to get a word in, but Heather didn’t let herself be interrupted. “I know you two are friends, but you’re not doing him any favors as long as you’re not honest with him.

“Heather, I-”

“Whatever it is you want from him, please tell him so he can stop driving himself crazy.”

“Yes, I know, that’s why I’m looking for him!”

“You are? Good. You might not be aware of it, but you have the power to absolutely break him. I’d rather you didn’t.”

Astrid gulped. “Yeah, believe it or not, he actually has the same power over me. Why do you think I’m calling his ex-girlfriend for help?”

Heather chuckled. “I haven’t heard from him this weekend, but I can think of a few others who might have. I can give you their numbers.”

“Thank you, seriously!”

“I’m doing it for him. Good luck.”

The line went dead and Astrid let out the tension in her shoulders with a sigh of relief. She didn’t have a new lead, but she had gained new options. And she’d just gotten the dad talk from her ex’s best friend’s sister.

Her phone buzzed with a few messages from an unsaved number, sending her a few contacts. She assumed the two people with Hiccup’s last name were his parents and decided to make them her last resort since there was no need to worry them about their son being uncharacteristically unavailable. Besides, they didn’t even know her.

Discovering she actually knew the other people Heather had referred her to, she decided to call Fishlegs first, hoping for not another lecture on how to treat one of his best friends. The one had been uncomfortable enough. The last thing she wanted to do was hurt Hiccup, even unintentionally. He was way too important to her, had taken root inside her heart the moment he’d first smiled at her.

She still remembered how he’d been able to make her forget about the sea of people around her in a matter of seconds, joking around about something trivial, grasping her full attention so easily she’d even blinded out her own fiancé, who’d been right there next to her. Looking back, she could only shake her head at her own stubbornness in admitting her immediate attraction and the connection that had been there from the moment their eyes had met. Her skin tingled at the memory of that bolt of lightning striking her to the core…

With a wince, she pulled herself from her daydream, concentrating on the task at hand and making the next call. Fishlegs picked up almost immediately, voice a little wary of the unknown number calling him on a Sunday evening. The horizon was darkening gradually, the last rays of sunlight drowning in the incoming wave of night, the streetlamps outside flickering on one after the other.

Fishlegs didn’t know where Hiccup was. “Maybe his phone is dead? He sometimes forgets to charge it before it’s too late.”

“Nope, it’s ringing. The signal’s getting through. Which means that’s not it.” She didn’t want to waste her time theorizing about why he wasn’t picking up. She wanted to find him, then she could ask him and punch him for leaving her hanging like this. “But do you know where he could have gone on a Sunday night while it’s raining?”

“Hm. You say his car is home?”

“Yes.”

“Well, Snotlout lives nearby, that’s an old friend of his–”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, I know him.” Tucking her phone between her jaw and shoulder, she started her car. “Where does he live?”

Fishlegs gave her the directions and offered to stay on the phone so she could keep him updated, but she quickly thanked him and hung up before pulling out of her parking spot. This was the worst scavenger hunt ever. At least she could cross calling Snotlout off her list.

Severely hoping to either catch Hiccup this time or at least get a solid lead, she pushed the doorbell ten seconds long and then hit it repeatedly in a short span of time until she heard the static of the receiver.

“Whoever the fuck you are, fuck you. Hiccup, is that you? I want my jacket.” Well, so much for finding Hiccup here.

“No, it’s Astrid, we met once, I think you tried to flirt with me.”

“Wait, the Astrid? Hot Astrid? Hot-strid?”

“Call me that again and you’ll find out how hot my fist is!”

“Okay, okay.” She noted with satisfaction how he was trying to cover up that he was intimidated. “What are you doing here? Came here to get a taste of the Snotman?”

Deciding to ignore his immediate new attempt at flirting (she would handle that another time, for sure), she just rolled her eyes. “Have you seen Hiccup?”

Expecting the same answer she got from everyone else, she was surprised when he said, “Yep. He was here.”

“When?” She jumped on the information, leaning closer to the receiver.

“I don’t know, some time in the past couple hours? I was busy, I don’t check the clock on a Sunday.”

“Did he say where he was going?”

“Out.” Oh, she wanted to break the door in and slap him.

“But where, Snotlout?!” A dog started barking very closely to the intercom, making Astrid flinch away.

“Shut up, Hookfang! I don’t know, he wouldn’t tell me. Sit, you dumb dog! He just came by for a jacket, he was kinda drenched. Pretty stupid, actually, because he had an umbrella and it wasn’t even raining when I looked outside.”

She bit her lip and frowned. So he was out somewhere, probably still in the rain. Great, so she just had to drive through town and search all the streets of Berk until she found him. At least she had some kind of solid plan now.

“Thanks, Snotlout.”

His answer was drowned out by the barking dog, then the intercom fell silent with a crackling static, but she was already sprinting back to her car. She tried calling Hiccup again, but then gave up with a groan; she wouldn’t reach him. He hadn’t read her text yet, either. So what now, call his parents if he had walked there? She didn’t even know if they lived in Berk.

Reaching for her phone again, she replayed his message. The butterflies tumbled through her stomach again when he said the five words she would never grow tired of hearing. There was the sound of traffic and rain in the background, but that didn’t help a lot, so she replayed it again. And there it was, another lead – he said he’d been at her parents’ place, looking for her. Of course! Maybe he’d mentioned more to whoever had answered the door.

She sped through town, parking right in front of the front door, something her father hated. But right now, she couldn’t care less. Fumbling with the keys for a minute, she pushed the door open and yelled into the house.

“Mom! Dad! Anyone?!”

Her father stuck his head through the door to the living room, glass of wine in hand, wearing his comfy couch pants. “Hello, daughter. We were wondering if you were still showing up for dinner.”

“Sorry, I forgot to cancel, I had something important to do.” She trudged down the hallway to the living room, leaving dirty footprints on the floor.

“Astrid, your shoes!” her father chided her, but she ignored it.

“Was Hiccup here?”

“Who?”

Her mother turned around on the couch. “Yes, your boyfriend was here. He was looking for you.”

Astrid scooched by her dad who almost spilled his wine. “When? What did he say?”

Wilma clucked her tongue in disapproval, shaking her head at her daughter’s wet shoes, two steps from the new carpet.

“Mom.”

Frederick put a hand on her shoulder, holding his glass out of her reach. “Why don’t you take your shoes off and join us? This crime thriller is very entertaining and there’s more wine in the fridge–”

“Mom!”

“Like I said, he was looking for you. I don’t remember when, but it was still light outside. He didn’t say what he wanted, though, and left as soon as I said you weren’t here.”

“Who?” Frederick repeated, confusion written clearly on his face. “The young man you spoke to earlier? What was that about a boyfriend?”

Astrid didn’t have time for explanations to be exchanged. “Which direction did he leave in? This is very, very important, mom!”

“What’s going on, dear? Why don’t you–”

Astrid rolled her eyes with an impatient growl, contemplating threatening to wipe her feet on the carpet if her mother didn’t just come across with the information, but figured that would only spark an entirely different discussion. “Mom, I swear – please just tell me, please!” The desperation had to be showing in her eyes because her mother gave in with a sigh.

“Down the street to Marram Lane, he was on foot so my guess is he was heading for the bus.”

That didn’t make her chase any less frustrating, but it was better than nothing. “Anything else?”

“No–”

“Okay, thanks, bye!” She dashed past her dad who took a surprised step back. Before the front door closed behind her, she could hear him complain about his spilled wine on the new carpet.

Jumping into her car, she deliberated showing Hiccup’s profile picture to every bus driver she could catch, until one of them remembered him and where he got off the bus. But chances were he’d taken the route home and was already back there while she was looking for bread crumbs all over Berk. So she decided on one last attempt. If he didn’t open his door now, she would go home and probably not sleep all night.

If it hadn’t been for the red light near the park, she would have missed it. Tapping her finger against the steering wheel, she absentmindedly glanced outside while waiting for green.

It was the jacket that caught her eye. Chipped print of faded red flames climbing up the dark sleeves, wide and short on a body too tall and lean for the cut. It was him.

The umbrella shaded him from the light of the streetlamps, but she immediately made out the wild auburn hair, the line of his jaw, the slope of his nose, eyes cast down. He was heading for the park, on a shortcut to his house that she couldn’t take with her car.

A honk from behind her alerted her to the green light and she stepped on it, crossing the intersection and pulling over onto the sidewalk as soon as she got the chance to.

She ran, only just bothering to lock her car. The rain was coming down in buckets and she splashed her entire right leg when she stepped in an overly large puddle, but that wouldn’t slow her down.

“Hey!” she yelled. “Hiccup! Wait!”

He had almost disappeared behind the next corner and a few trees when he suddenly stopped and turned around. “Astrid?”

Panting, she came to a stop. “Finally. I looked- I looked everywhere for you.”

“Oh- oh yeah. I’m so sorry.” He pulled his phone from his pocket and showed her the screen. There was a large crack right down the middle and her unsuccessful calls finally made sense. He hadn’t been suddenly ghosting her, after all. “Did… Um, did you get my…”

“I got your message.” Her instincts told her to just grab him and haul him in for a kiss like she’d wanted to for so long, but he’d asked her to talk and she wouldn’t make any rash moves; there was just too much on the line.

For a beat, he looked at her nervously, before he noticed the water running down her face, darkening her hair and clothes. He stepped closer, holding his umbrella over the two of them.

“Thanks.” She wiped wet strands of hair out of her face. Every now and then, a gust of wind blew cold rain underneath the umbrella like a lawn sprinkler that had lost its rhythm. She was exhausted. She’d had a very long day.

It didn’t escape her how his eyes briefly dropped down her face, awakening the memories of his lips brushing hers earlier that day, numbing the tips of her fingers for the fraction of a second, before he averted his face. “I’m sorry if I sprung all this on you, but…”

“No, I’m the one who has to apologize.” His eyes settled back on hers and the shiver running down her spine had nothing to do with the weather. “You were absolutely right, I had been running from my conflicts, and my feelings. I went home to talk to Eret.” She took a deep breath. “We decided to break up.”

His eyes widened in surprise. “Oh, I… Was… Was it true, then? About him and…”

“Dana? That wasn’t what I thought it was. You were right about that, too.”

“Well, I’ll have you know I am always right about everything,” he said with a one-shouldered shrug and the hint of a shy grin.

“Hmm, sure.” Her lips were twitching and the invisible string attached to her heart was pulling at her chest. The rain was cold and the heat his body was emanating was driving her insane. The proximity to him, the way he was looking at her, the light of the streetlamps reflecting golden specks in his deep green eyes sending a parade of tingles over her skin. “He hadn’t been cheating on me any more than I cheated on him.”

His brows furrowed; head cocked to the side ever so slightly.

“Emotionally. Not with Dana. And that’s only one of the reasons me and him didn’t work out.”

Shaking his head, his frown deepened. “So… What does that mean now? Astrid, why are you here?”

She mirrored his expression. “Because you wanted to talk–”

“No, I mean, why are you here? In the rain, soaked to the bone? You could have called later, or tomorrow, or any other time.”

“No, I couldn’t,” she replied, trying to lay all the sincerity she felt into her voice. “Like I said, I’ve been running away for way too long.” The world began to blur around her, the traffic and the rain faded, vision narrowing in on him, capturing his gaze so intently, it caused her palms to sweat and her hands to start shaking from the intensity. “I love you. Okay? I love you! I want to be with you, Hiccup! I- I love you.” Her heart was rapidly pumping liquid lightning through her veins from finally saying the words out loud.

The earth stopped spinning as she looked at him, waiting for a reaction. His lips were slightly parted, eyes posing as windows to his soul, alive and starry, burning into her like fireworks into the summer night. With bated breath, knees weakening under his gaze, she felt the electricity buzz around her, charging for the final blow. Seconds passed, small eternities, in which she couldn’t move, the current pinning her to the spot.

Then, he suddenly surged forward, grabbing her face with both hands, and lightning crashed through her as they finally connected in a blinding flash of blue and white. Her chest exploded; high voltage was coursing through her every nerve, every vein, blood alive, heart pounding in sync with his; it was like their souls were magnets, caught in each other’s magnetic field, too strong to disconnect.

Her heart was soaring, quaking, pulsating, the world empty but for them. Their heavy breaths and the deafening thunder in her soul the only sound reaching her ears. Space and time became foreign concepts, the universe narrowing down to where they stood, hands roaming over shoulders, necks, limbs and through hair, unable to linger, always seeking out more, lips chasing lips.

She had to hold onto him as the ground disappeared underneath her feet and she went falling, flying, tumbling through the clouds. Her stomach was doing somersaults, backflips, pirouettes; the lightning strike had left her blind. She couldn’t get enough of his touch, lungs screaming for air, but she couldn’t care less about breathing, reconnecting with his lips after every hasty intake of air, drowning in the feeling of wonder, of pure euphoria.

The only thing she knew to be real was the warmth of his body, the passion that let their lips collide over and over again until she felt dizzy from the lack of oxygen and the intense electric current running through their bodies like one.

Eyes still closed, they eventually parted for much required air, their foreheads touching, breaths mingling. Her hands were slowly sliding from his neck, resting over his erratic heartbeat, mirroring hers. His fingers trailed down her spine, settling around her waist.

“Did you feel that?” Her voice was shaking.

“The lightning?”

Her eyes fluttered open and her chest swelled with affection at the raw emotion in his eyes and the fact that he felt as much for her as she did for him. She nodded with a gulp.

“I did.” He lifted a hand to her face, gently wiping something hot and salty from her cheek that she hadn’t even noticed herself. “Is this real?”

“I certainly hope so.”

“Hey, if not, at least we’re stuck in the same dream, right?”

“Right.” Getting lost in his gaze again, she blinked when he suddenly cleared his throat and looked around, as if remembering that there was a whole universe out of their wonderful, perfect little bubble.

“We should probably go someplace dry.” The umbrella was discarded somewhere on the ground, dirty and forgotten. “I keep getting drenched today, how is that?!”

The laughter breaking out of her and the look he gave her in return were nothing short of breathtaking, and she wondered if she was ever going to get used to that, already addicted to everything about him, everything he was doing to her. “My car is back there.” She pointed in a general direction over her shoulder.

“Okay.” He leaned down and softly pecked her lips again, followed by another toe-curling, heart-stopping, world-shaking kiss, slow and deep, her fingers clutching at his soaked shirt. Their noses brushed, wet and cold. “Okay,” he repeated himself in a whisper and stepped away enough to entwine their hands, starting towards where she had pointed.

The skin of their interlaced fingers was frigid, but Astrid did not feel the cold. She just felt… free.

His thumb brushed over her knuckles as she steered him back to her car and the contact crackled through her nerves like an inextinguishable fire. Just this morning, she’d been shaken by her own confession to herself, still anxious over the fight she’d had with Hiccup the day before. Entire lifetimes had passed since then.

Glancing at him, she caught his eyes and the blinding smile on his lips. Oh, those lips. She had discovered a new drug and she was already high on it. With a weak fist, she punched his shoulder. “That’s for breaking your phone.” He blushed, rubbing his neck with his free hand. With her own, she fished her car keys from her uncomfortably wet jeans, pushing the button and glancing over him once more. “And what the hell are you wearing?!”

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- End of Part 2 -

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#httyd #hiccstrid #fanfiction #hiccup haddock #astrid hofferson #heather #fishlegs ingerman #snotlout jorgenson #when lightning strikes #modern au #a bit of angst with a dash of drama #or the other way around #maja writes #ff #fanfic #how to train your dragon

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