#He just runs in sometimes like: save first plan later

[0vergrowngraveyard]

It wasn’t a very long nightmare, but it was enough to make him jolt awake, chills running down his spine and panic filling his chest.

Sonic wasn’t a stranger to having bad dreams, but they didn’t happen very often. Dreaming in general just wasn’t a very common occurrence for him. He usually just closed his eyes and woke up hours later, there was nothing in between.

But there were times after an adventure, a particularly close call, or just having a rough day that his usually peaceful sleep would be interrupted by nightmares that would force him back into the waking world. Images of what could’ve happened if he hadn’t acted in a situation that more often than not ended in death, either his own or someone else’s.

That someone else was usually Tails, which was what he was dealing with now.

Their latest encounter with Eggman had gotten a little too dicey for Sonic’s liking. Not for Sonic himself — the more danger he was in, the better — but Tails had almost gotten hurt. Really hurt. A bot nearly self-destructed right next to him when he’d gotten caught on something and it was by sheer luck that Sonic spotted it when he did.

If he’d been too late, even by a second…

The next thing he knew, he found himself standing in Tails’ room, watching over the kit’s sleeping form. Sonic didn’t remember getting out of bed at all, but whatever. He was here now and he didn’t really want to leave, not yet at least.

Tails had gone to bed at a reasonable time tonight, but that was only because he’d been awake for almost forty-eight hours beforehand. Whenever Sonic was out on a run, Tails would forget to take care of himself. He’d barely eat, sleep, and he only drank water when he felt a headache coming on. It worried Sonic to no end, yet he’d get brushed off when he brought his concerns to light.

Sonic didn’t need to question where Tails got that from.

He sat down on the kit’s bed, the mattress sinking under his weight. He simply watched the kit, observing how his ears and muzzle twitched in his sleep. Unlike his big brother, Tails always seemed to have very vivid dreams. Sometimes, he’d tell Sonic all about the story that played out for him overnight in such excruciating detail, it was like he just watched a movie. It sometimes made Sonic a little jealous if he was being completely honest.

However, vivid dreams also meant vivid nightmares and Sonic had definitely heard about a fair share of those, so maybe he wasn’t that jealous.

A sigh broke through his defense as he turned to look down at his hands. It was times like this when Sonic began wondering how life would’ve been different if he’d gone through with his original plan when he first took the kit along with him. If he’d actually found a family to look after him and love him and keep him safe; a family that would keep him away from Eggman instead of letting the kit nearly get blown up by him.

Life would’ve been much lonelier for Sonic, sure, but at the very least Tails would’ve been able to have a normal childhood, whatever that meant for a kid like him. He would’ve had two parents to look up to, maybe other siblings to play around with. He would’ve gone to a regular school, probably skipped several grades because that's just how smart he is, made friends closer to his age and who shared his interests.

He could’ve had a normal and stable life.

But things didn’t end up going in that direction. Tails’s role model and only family was a guy who threw himself at danger whenever he could. He didn’t go to school and most of his friends were much older than him and struggled to follow along with his ramblings whenever he explained something he was passionate about. His life was always at risk, whether it was working with dangerous chemicals or helping Sonic save the world from whatever ancient deity Eggman awoke that month.

With Sonic, his life was anything but stable. Chaos, they’d been homeless for years. Living off the land and whatever people gave them to survive. Sometimes they wouldn’t eat for days at a time. Sometimes one of them got sick and there were no hospitals in the immediate area, leaving the other to play doctor. There’d even been times where Sonic lost him either in a town or he didn’t notice the kid falling behind until it was too late.

Even now that they had the Mystic Ruins workshop, Tails was left alone for days at a time. No big brother to monitor him and make sure he properly took care of himself. No one home to stop him from working himself to the point of exhaustion just so he could prove himself useful.

As if his presence alone wasn’t enough to fill Sonic with the confidence that they’d get through whatever was thrown their way.

There came a point where Sonic just couldn’t let the kid go, as selfish as the choice may have been. He just couldn’t. He’d fight to keep his little brother by his side, he did fight. He went to freaking court so he could get legal guardianship over the fox. And if, for whatever Gaia forsaken reason, the system ruled that he was unfit to be Tails’s guardian, he still wouldn’t let them take him away. He made the decision long ago that this kid was his, and there wasn’t anything anyone could do about it.

Sonic had gotten attached, but sometimes he wondered if that attachment had been a mistake. He hated thinking about it because this little fox kit truly was the light of his life, his best friend, and his little brother who he loved dearly, but he couldn’t help it. The thoughts would just creep their way into his mind from the dark crevices of his room at night.

What if Tails got hurt trying to protect him? What if Sonic failed one day? What if Sonic had failed yesterday? What if this was a dream and his nightmare was what really happened? What if—

“Sonic?”

His brain screeched to a halt immediately as he looked over his shoulder and caught two sleepy eyes looking up at him. “Wha’re y’doin’?”

The hedgehog just blinked at him for a stupid second as he tried to regain his composure. “Just checking on you, bud.” He eventually responded, his voice uncharacteristically quiet as he reached over to scritch behind his ear.

Tails leaned into the touch with a hum, “Y’need somethin’?”

Sonic shook his head, “Nah. Just go back to sleep.”

Tails gave him a confused look but ultimately let it go, snuggling further into his covers. He closed his eyes and Sonic was sure he’d fallen back to sleep. With a sigh, he stood up, taking in one last look over the kit’s face.

He looked peaceful.

Sonic frowned and turned away, making his way towards the door and being careful about avoiding any creaky floorboards. He didn’t need to keep the kid awake longer than he already had.

“You can stay if you want.” Sonic jumped, not expecting to hear Tails’s voice again. “If you had a nightmare or somethin’. I don’t mind.” The kit shifted over, making room on his pillow for his big brother. He looked at Sonic over his blankets almost expectantly.

Sonic considered the offer, a small smile tugged at his mouth as he put his hands on his hips, “Are you trying to comfort me or do you just want something to latch onto?”

Tails gave him a half lidded stare—or he was just barely keeping his eyes open—before he shrugged with one shoulder and laid back down, “It’s your choice. If you wanna go back to your room and deal with your nightmare alone instead, be my guest.”

A knot formed in Sonic’s stomach. It was the same knot that formed whenever Tails tried to comfort him. He appreciated it, he really did. Sonic was so lucky to have this kid in his life. A kid who cared so much about him and who’d do anything to make sure his big brother was happy, or at least not as sad. Tails was always successful. Just being near the fox seemed to always be enough to soothe whatever negative emotions were worming around in him at the moment.

If Sonic was upset, he needed his best friend and little brother around.

But that’s where the knot came in. Tails shouldn't have to worry about his emotions. Sure, he was the smartest and greatest kid Sonic had ever met, but that didn’t change the fact that he was, well, a kid. He already had so much on his plate, way more than he should. His big brother being upset shouldn’t be added to that.

Sonic sighed, turning towards the hallway and away from any kind of comfort. The air around him felt colder as he walked out of the kit’s room, it felt heavier. He stole one last glance at Tails snuggled up in his blankets before shutting the door and making his way back to his room.

He paused in his doorway. His room was much darker than Tails’s, much emptier too. Sonic wasn’t afraid of the dark by any means, nor of what was in it, but simply walking over to his bed and laying down felt like such a daunting task. Exhaustion weighed him down and he wanted nothing more than to go back to sleep and wake up the next morning like nothing had happened.

Sucking in a deep breath, he forced himself to move forward, just like he always did. One foot after the other. There was no need to stop until he reached his goal, no reason to look back.

Sonic flopped down onto his bed, the mattress bouncing under his weight. He rolled over onto his back, limbs sprawled out as he stared up at the ceiling. Unlike Tails’s ceiling which had little plastic glow in the dark stars attached to it, Sonic’s was blank. Just an empty void staring back at him.

The void began whispering to him the longer he looked so he closed his eyes, determined to fall back to sleep. He wasn’t about to let a stupid nightmare of all things keep him from getting his precious sleep, even one as terrifying as the one he’d had that night.

He was Sonic the Hedgehog, for crying out loud. And Sonic the Hedgehog didn't get caught up on dumb nightmares.

He could ignore the sheer terror that flowed throughout his body, the heart shattered scream that burned into itself his memory and the thick red liquid that shouldn’t have been there. He could ignore how broken his baby brother’s body looked, the wide eyed and lifeless stare pointing directly at him, and the all too familiar laugh reverberating around him, saying that it was all his fault. That it will be his fault.

When that time comes, it will be all his fault.

He could ignore the tears threatening to slip out of his eyes as the words sunk in, but he couldn’t ignore the sudden feeling of something—or someone—landing down on his stomach hard.

A winded oof escaped him as he quickly tried to sit up, only for his efforts to be in vain as the weight on him refused to move. His gaze turned unimpressed as his hand settled on the culprit’s back, “So. Did you forget how to knock or something?”

The only response Sonic got was muffled by his sheets, which managed to get an amused snort out of the hedgehog, “I can’t understand a thing you’re staying, lil bud.”

Tails lifted his head up with a huff. “I said your door was wide open.” His head promptly flopped back down onto the bed.

“My door was wide open.” Sonic repeated.

“Mhm.”

“So you took that as an invitation to jump on me and wake me up?”

“Mhm.” Tails lifted his head up again, “Also you weren’t asleep.”

“Oh yeah? And how did you know that?” Sonic asked, hand moving to scritch behind the kit’s ear.

“Just did.”

Sonic just hummed. That was probably the best answer he was gonna get, no use in questioning further. If there was anything else, he’d say it on his own. With a content sigh, he closed his eyes and focused on the fox kit laying across his stomach. Whatever darkness had crept into his mind slowly disappeared as Sonic continued to pet his little brother’s head.

He could hear the faint sound of Tails’s purring, its vibrations sending an almost calming sensation throughout his system. Eventually, the kid moved so he was snuggled up against Sonic’s side, his paw curled up into a fist as it rested on his tan chest. Sonic looped an arm around him, keeping him as close as possible.

They laid there in silence for a while, Sonic gently scratching the kit’s back as his own breathing began to settle. He could feel himself finally starting to drift off to sleep and assumed Tails already had. That is, until he felt the small fist on his chest tighten.

“You sounded sad when you were in my room,” Tails finally admitted, “And I know I said I didn’t care, but I didn’t really want you to be alone. And I knew you’d tell me to go back to my room if I told you that so I just jumped on you. That way you couldn’t send me away.”

Sonic’s eyes slowly opened as he stared at his ceiling once again. The darkness that looked back wasn’t as intense as it was before, but it was still there. Before he could respond, Tails added one last thing, “And before you say you wouldn’t have, last time I checked on you when you had a bad dream, you just told me to go back to bed. You tell me that every time.”

“I wouldn’t have this time.”

Tails scoffed, “That’s a lie if I’ve ever heard one.”

Sonic couldn’t bring himself to respond to that because, as much as he hated to admit it, Tails was right. He probably would’ve told him to go back to his room tonight too; would’ve sent him away for just trying to help.

“I just don’t want you to waste your time worrying about me, kiddo.” He said, “You’ve already got a lot going on, way more than someone your age ever should, and my dumb issues don’t need to be added to that list.”

“I can’t help worrying about your dumb issues, Sonic.” Tails huffed, “You’re my brother. Of course I’m gonna worry about you. ‘S what family’s for.”

“Bud—“

“No matter how many times you tell me not to worry, I always will and there’s nothing you can do about it.”

A fond smirk tugged at Sonic’s mouth, “Nothing?”

“Nothing.” Tails confirmed, “Now go to sleep. ‘M tired.”

Chaos, what was he going to do with this kid? “Yeah, yeah, whatever you say. Goodnight, little bro.”

“Mmm g’night…love ya”

Sonic simply hummed in response, but Tails got the message all the same. The hedgehog stayed awake as the kit’s breathing evened out almost immediately. The kid really was that tired, huh? Made sense considering he was woken up from what appeared to be a pretty deep sleep. His breaths had a little whistle to them, making it so that Sonic could hear every time Tails breathed in and out, in and out, in and out.

He’d also be able to tell if his breathing stopped.

His eyes closed tightly as the unwanted thought bounced around. Tails was fine. Sure, he’d been rudely woken up because Sonic wasn’t able to get a handle on his fears, but now he was right next to him. Sonic could keep him safe if anything happened. He would always keep him safe.

Whatever happened in his nightmare would never become a reality. Sonic wouldn’t let it.

He rolled over and curled around the little fox to the best of his ability, pressing his forehead against Tails’s. Sonic forced himself to copy the rise and fall of his chest as his quills raised instinctively, ready to protect them both from the non-existent threats in the dark as they slept.

Apparently they hadn’t stayed raised for too long considering he woke up to Tails holding onto him, arms wrapped around his middle with a grip that he wouldn’t be able to escape from without waking the kit up. Fondness squeezed his heart just as tightly as he chuckled softly, closed his eyes, and allowed himself to relax a little longer.

He could tease him about it later.

[ambivalence-is-me]

Your Power (1)

Pairing: Azriel x reader

Summary: Meeting Azriel and the inner circle was not in your plans by any means. But it happened and it was not your brightest moment.

Word count: 3.4k

Warnings: mentions of death

A/N: Had this idea for a while and wanted to get it out! I haven’t read Silver Flames soo anything that might seem out of place is totally on purpose. I apologize for any (all) grammatical error :)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

‘’YOU!’’

Azriel saw you the second you started walking their way. Your wide-eyed friend behind you trying to keep up with your drunk self. As always, he was on high alert even when his family told him to relax and enjoy the night. So, when he saw where you were headed, he quickly analyzed the situation and realized you weren’t a threat, even more as your friend tried to get you to stop.

He looked at Rhys, who in return raised an eyebrow at you and gave you his charming smile, and then back at you and decided to entertain the scene before him.

‘’You’ve forgotten about us, you know that right?! How can you continue to act all high and mighty while the rest of us are breaking down more and more each day!’’

You had one finger pointing at Rhys, your other hand bunched up in a fist on your side. They (Azriel, Rhys, Cassian, Feyre and Mor. The rest of the inner circle didn’t bother to go out that night and join them at Rita’s) all knew you were drunk but you were looking at them so fiercely, your voice never quivered, you definitely had all of their attention.

‘’Yes, you saved us but for what? To cast us aside when you’re done?’’ You looked to Feyre then. ‘’And you! I had such high hopes for you! A high lady yes, go females! But you’ve done the same!’’

Azriel saw how Rhys stopped smiling the second you turned to his mate, still recognizing that you were all bark and no bite but knowing how Feyre was going to save every single word you were saying in her brain and was going to overthink it later. Clearly, the amount of drinks you’ve had didn’t make you forget you were currently yelling at the High Lord and High Lady.

‘’Velaris needs you, the people need you! So do something about it!’’ With this, you finally dropped your hand, looked at them one last time before storming away. Your friend, once again, running after you not wanting to look at them after what you had done. She knew you were going to regret this outburst the next day.

And you did.

The second you woke up the next day, everything came rushing back and you wished you had a hangover so you wouldn’t have to think about it. A hangover sounded a thousand times better than thinking about how foolish and stupid you looked the night before.

Like, really? To go to the inner circle’s table, drunk, and yell at the high lord and lady? Surely, they were either going to forget about it or kill you. Or maybe they’d kill you and THEN forget about the incident. Sure, that’s what was going to happen.

But you quickly dismissed the idea when two days passed and nothing happened. Your life went back to normal and that was it. As if, the encounter you had with Velaris’ (and probably all of Prythian’s) most powerful fae was nothing. It probably was, you were just another common fae.

So, two days passed and you put it on the back of your mind focusing on your duties. Today, first thing you must do is drop off your nephew at school.

On Tuesday mornings, your sister-in-law wakes up before the sunrise to get ingredients for the shop meaning she couldn’t take your nephew to school. Therefore, you volunteered to do it. You loved your nephew and would do anything for him and his mother. Anything to make their lives easier. Sometimes your mom would join you but most times, it was just you and you were more than okay with that, savoring all the time you can with your nephew.

‘’Excellent! You’re gonna ace that test, kid’’. You sent him a big smile, squeezing the hand you were holding as you made your way to the school.

‘’I hope so. Mom said she’d let join her to the meadows if I did.’’ Of course he was interested in joining his mother. Like her, he loved nature and everything it provided them. He said he wanted to follow her footsteps and he was unknowingly also following his father's.

Your brother.

‘’Then you better get your boots ready, kid. I’m positive you’re gonna do great.’’

He gave you a big smile. He had your brother’s smile and you loved that about him. It made you feel like he was always there with you. It made missing him hurt less, even if years had already passed.

Both of you continue the walk to school. Talking about anything and everything. Like you, he was a yapper. But not everyone got to see that side of you. Many said you were quiet but that’s only because you don’t trust easily. Once you trust someone then they couldn’t get you to shut up. It was one of the many things that made you, you.

As you were nearing the school, your nephew stopped. ‘’What was that?’’

You looked at him confused ‘’What was what?’’

He looked around as if trying to locate whatever thing he saw. ‘’ I don’t know. It looked like a shadow’’. You looked at him even more confused. A shadow?

‘’Maybe it was a dragon’’ He looked at you unamused. ‘’Dragons don’t exist, Aunt Y/N’’.

‘’Maybe they should’’ you murmured under your breath. You shook your head and forgot about it as you looked at the school. You sighed. ‘’All right, kid. Go in there and do everything I wouldn’t do.’’

He gave you a look. ‘’You’re not supposed to encourage that’’. He was so mature for being so young.

You giggled and gave him a push towards school. ‘’Give ‘em hell! I’ll see you later!’’ You waved and sent him a kiss goodbye.

Once he was inside, you made your way to work.

Before you were even born, your family owned an apothecary shop. Your mother made sure you and your brother knew all about the family business as you were growing up. Your father passed away when you were a babe, having no recollection of him. Therefore, your mother ran the business until you or your brother were old enough to take care of it.

Growing up, you knew quickly that you wanted to do nothing with it. Nature was not your thing, you had great respect for it but it didn’t come naturally to you the way it did for your brother. He loved it and he loved spending time in the shop with your mother learning about it.

They had decided then that he was to stay with the shop once he was of age and finished his studies. You, on the other hand, gravitated to another side: music and arts. You loved anything that had to do with music: listening, playing, creating it; you name it. If there was music, you’d be there. A trait you’d inherited from your father, that’s what mother always said.

You had a job at a music shop and you loved it. It was everything you ever wanted and you were SO SURE that the man that owned it was going to promote you and one day maybe even give it to you. You wanted to take care of it, of the instruments, of the stories behind them. The shop had nights where the people would come and play together creating beautiful music. You wanted to play in all of them. Music was one of the things that made you extremely happy.

But then the war happened and your brother died.

And all of your plans to stay at the music shop died with him. You couldn’t stay there and let your family business die with him too. Your mother, nephew and sister-in-law were heart broken (as were you, of course. Heart broken doesn’t even come close) and you knew they were in no shape to run the shop.

So, there you went and stepped up to the plate. It was very hard at first to get the hang of it. You weren’t your brother, you didn’t have the same patience or love for it but eventually, you made it through. A year later, your sister-in-law decided to work there as well, saying that it made her feel closer to her husband.

You understand her completely, because sometimes you feel like he was there. It made you somewhat happy that you didn’t give up on the shop, on his dream even if you had to give up yours. Also, you have so much respect for her, not imagining how it must feel to love someone (romantically) so deeply, someone you swore was going to be with you for eternity and then having them gone so unexpectedly. Never to see them again.

You had your flings sure, but in all your centuries of being alive, you had never fallen in love the way your brother and sister-in-law were. Their love story was one of the most beautiful stories you’ve ever experienced and you hope to have one yourself one day. But until then, your day must go on.

‘’Good morning!’’ You said to Sabrina, one of the faes that also worked in the shop. She looked at you and smiled back.

‘’Morning, boss!’’ She was younger than you by a few centuries and you enjoyed having her in the shop. Somehow, she was always up to date with the town’s gossip so it was great to yap with her.

‘’How was your night, huh? That male still thinks you’re his mate?’’

She gave you a mischievous smile and a wink. ‘’Oh yeah, you should’ve see him. I got him to fix my bathroom sink. For free of course’’. Oh yeah, she scared you as well. She was a beautiful fae (and she knew it). With eyes and body that resembled siren’s, she could have any male she wanted and somehow tricked them into believing they were mates. Like a siren would indeed.

You thought it was both hilarious and dumb. You’ve heard tales of mating bonds, of how precious, powerful and extremely rare they were. And yet, somehow the males believed Sabrina when she would tell them that she was their mate.

‘’Males are dumb and will believe anything you say to them so long you give them attention’’ She would always say. She was right in one thing for sure, males are dumb.

‘’You’re evil’’. You said with a laugh and went inside the office of the shop.

Ugh, this work was so boring and tedious, you thought. How did your brother enjoy this? Shaking your head to clear your thoughts, you sighed and started working.

Until about 20 minutes later, Sabrina stormed inside the office. You looked up at her confused, she wasn’t one to barge in like that.

‘’Yes? What’s wrong?’’ She was wide eyed, mouth opening as if she’d seen a ghost. So, you told her just that. ‘’You look like you’ve seen a ghost’’.

‘’Shadows actually’’ She whispered. You looked at her even more confused. Shadows? Like the ones your nephew saw this morning?

‘’Shadows?’’

‘’Shadowsinger’’

‘’Shadowsinger? Sabrina, you’re not making any sense’’. Truly, she was scaring you. Shadowsinger, what the heck did she mean?

‘’He’s here!’’ She whispered yelled. ‘’The high lord’s Shadowsinger. He’s here and he’s looking for you’’. Her frightened eyes never steering from yours.

The high lord’s-what? But then, it all clicked in. Your eyes and mouth opened wide.

‘’Shit shit shit’’ you whispered yelled as well. Standing up from the chair and pacing in front of Sabrina.

‘’What did you do?!’’ the whisper-yells continued.

But you weren’t listening to her, you were replaying that Mother’s awful night in your mind. ‘’I’m gonna die, he’s gonna kill me’’. You whispered and Sabrina let out a squeak, hands quickly going to her mouth.

‘’No! You can’t! I can’t lose this job, Y/N! I’m still so young. Oh my Mother. Who’s gonna tell your mother? I can’t tell her! She scares me.’’ Sabrina continued her rambling, you listening to bits and pieces and further feeling fear run through your body.

‘’My sister-in-law is ready to take over okay? Just, make sure you hide my body and everything will be okay. You’ll make sure of that right?’’ In another scenario, this would be downright funny to you but right now, you actually believed that the male behind the door (who was probably listening to all of this) was actually going to murder you.

Sabrina shook her head repeatedly, motioning with her hands as well. ‘’Absolutely not. That is a lot of responsibility here. I’m technically a witness here! What if he kills me too?’’ After saying that, she froze, and you saw how pale her face was getting at the thought of dying at the hands of the Shadowsinger.

So once again, you had to step up and be the strong one. With that thought, you stilled.

Okay so you were drunk and decided to go to the most powerful high lord (and high lady) and told them off. Not your brightest decision, clearly, but everything you said that night was true. It was what all of the citizens of Velaris were thinking but no one had dared to say out loud, specially directly to the rulers of the city.

After the first attack the city suffered, Velaris was a slowly sinking ship and it seemed like the inner circle wasn’t paying attention to it or its citizens. But you were. Because you were also one of them, another citizen. But you were very observant and most importantly, you listened. You listened to their troubles, fears and never ending grief. You and your family were all testament to that. So when it seemed like time kept passing and no one was stepping up, you said something.

Drunk, mind you, but it was said. So, if one of the most powerful faes of all time was there to kill you, then you’d find a sense of pride amidst all of the fear inside you, and then die knowing you tried to help the people of Velaris.

Even if they would never know.

‘’Let him in’’ You stated after clearing your throat.

Sabrina’s eyes stayed wide open. ‘’Are you sure?’’

‘’He’s not going to want to kill me in front of you okay? I- just’’ You sighed, none of this was making sense. ‘’Just let him in, please’’.

But both of you knew that there was no other choice but to let him in. So with that, Sabrina nodded, looked at you as if it was the last time she ever would, and walked out to get the male.

You struggled to stay still, hands fidgeting, looking straight at the door and swallowing down fear. Any moment now, he was going to walk in and death-

Holy Cauldron, he was the most gorgeous male you’ve ever seen.

You quickly replayed that night in your mind, trying to remember if he looked as good as he looks now but truthfully, your vision was hazy and focused only on Rhysand and Feyre. You were honestly glad of that, that you were so focused on your goal and not exactly looking at him because if you did, you’d cower and retreat at the sight of his beauty.

He was one beautiful intimidating male, that’s for sure. And one who was here on a mission.

‘’Hello’’ You squeaked out. Quickly clearing your throat and recovering (trying to at least). ‘’Is there anything I can help you with?’’

The fact that this female, the same one who had the balls to go up to his high lord and tell him off without a second thought, is the very same female who is now standing before him and looking at him like she wanted to run away, had him fighting a smile.

He’s a male who takes his job very seriously, known for being closed off and stoic. So when Rhys sent him to find the female who had left an impression on all of them and whose words stroke a nerve, he did it without a second thought. It wasn’t that hard to find you, he was really good at his job and also, your family business was well known in Velaris. People knew who you were and even though not all of them knew the real you, they knew you were a kind, caring and hard-working fae.

After finding everything he could about you, he reported back to Rhysand and Feyre. You were born and raised in Velaris, good grades, even better behavior, worked at a music shop, were now the owner of the apothecary, mother stayed at home, no father, has a sister-in-law who works at the shop, has a nephew, brother dead, no husband (that he could find at least). You were just another common fae. A really pretty one, one of his shadows had whispered to him.

He agreed.

He could see you getting antsier the longer it took him to reply. So with an raised eyebrow, he extended his hand toward you that held a parchment you had failed to see when you were too busy ogling at him and wondering if the death was going to be a painful one.

You saw it now. You also saw his hands. The rumors were true then. They were filled with scars, you wondered for a second how they must feel to touch.

Shaking those thoughts out of your head, you cleared your throat and stepped closer to take the parchment. ‘’Um-okay, thank you’’.

Really? Your thanking him for what exactly? You grabbed it and looked at it for a second before staring back at him. Not wanting to lose the opportunity to stare at his eyes up close.

Those rumors were also true. His hazel eyes were absolutely beautiful. For Mother’s sake, did he have an ugly bone in his body?!, you thought.

‘’Open it’’ How can someone so beautiful and intimidating make you feel things with just their voice? Is this what his prisoners feel before they die?

You could listen to him talk all day, but his reputation tells you that he’s not one to talk much, not like you. Which is exactly what you’re going to start doing if you continue to stand in his presence.

You weren’t sure if he was going to stand for your yapping. ‘’Oh! Sure-okay.’’ Clearing your throat once again, you looked away from his eyes and finally focused on the piece of parchment.

Opening and reading it, you gasped and your eyes widened.

‘’Dear Y/N Y/L/N,

We are inviting you to a formal meeting that will be held in two days, morning time at The Library. Please confirm with Azriel of your attendance.

We eagerly await your presence.

Rhysand and Feyre

High Lord and High Lady of the Night’s Court. ‘’

A meeting? With you? For what? Do they all want to have a part in your death?

You really need to stop thinking that they’re going to kill you, they would have done it by now…right?

Your ongoing thoughts were definitely not helping with the nerves. Why the heck did they want to meet with you?

Reading it a third time, you saw the name Azriel and assumed this was the Shadowsinger standing right before you and patiently waiting for your response.

Right, response. You’re supposed to confirm your attendance. But, were you going to go? Were you really going to say no to your high lord and lady? You might’ve been brave when you were under the influence but any other day you weren’t exactly courageous or anything. But what was at stake here? Maybe this was your chance to apologize for that night. You weren’t going to apologize for saying the truth but perhaps how it was delivered. Okay sure, you can do that..right?

‘’Right-umm’’. You looked at the male before you, noticing the brightness of his hazel eyes and was that amusement? Was he..amused by all of this?

‘’I’ll be there’’. You decided. Fuck, you weren’t sure about this. But it was out there, Azriel heard it and was sure going to report it back.

Azriel nodded and took a step back from you.

You were glad of the extra breathing space. It was still early, how the heck were you supposed to focus during the rest of the day?

‘’I wouldn’t leave your body here, I’d hide it. Can’t leave evidence behind’’

Did he just make a joke? Of your death? He obviously heard you and Sabrina then. And the male had the audacity to find it funny!

So, the cold and ruthless Shadowsinger had humor then…a dark one it seems. Interesting.

Too shock to reply to that, you saw a hint of a smile on his face before he quickly hid it and left. Leaving you with a memory of his eyes and smile engraved in your brain.

What the fuck did you agree to?

[wonryllis]

ⓘ SIM JAEYUN: INTO THE SPIDER-VERSE.

❪ 🕸️ ❫────𝗒𝗈𝗎'𝗋𝖾 𝖺 𝗌𝗎𝗇𝖿𝗅𝗈𝗐𝖾𝗋, 𝗂 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗄 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗅𝗈𝗏𝖾 𝗐𝗈𝗎𝗅𝖽 𝖻𝖾 𝗍𝗈𝗈 𝗆𝗎𝖼𝗁!

( NOTES. ) where you are JAKE SIM'𝓼 MJ. fluff, suggestive in some places fem!centered. lowercase intded. 2040wc. 𓈃 ๋ 𝐍𝐄𝐖 峠 requests are open. happy new year guys!

REBLOGS AND FEEDBACKS WOULD BE REALLY APPRECIATED!

now playing. sunflower by post malone, stay by justin beiber.

SPIDERMAN!JAKE who first notices you when you knock out his target with your tote bag because you saw him running from the neighborhood hero. immediately catching his attention with your cute face and fiercely aggressive yet again cute anger. gods knows what was in that bag, or maybe it was the angle or the way you swung it, he thinks back on it calculating shit to make it make sense and it does but nevertheless you're still cute and awesome.

SPIDERMAN!JAKE who accidentally finds the little bookstore you work part-time at every monday, wednesday and fridays. always hovering around the area on the said days coincidentally exactly during the hours of your shift.

SPIDERMAN!JAKE who sometimes changes out of his suit in the alleyways nearby into his nerd get up to drop by at your bookstore and always look for books that you don't happen to have as he asks at the frontdesk and you reply with your sweet smile and your sweet voice that's he finds himself getting addicted to.

SPIDERMAN!JAKE who later finds out you go to his university and have been in his chem class for two years but he hasn't ever noticed you? well that's because he started being the friendly little hero just the week you transferred having no other focus than his newfound superpowers. it's a shame he thinks he could be celebrating his two year anniversary with you right now but in reality you don't even know his name.

SPIDERMAN!JAKE who as stalkerish as it sounds has pictures of you in his phone, candid clicks in the bookstore to you clad in your labcoat in chem. a whole folder in his laptop where he has planned it all out how he's going to win your heart.

SPIDERMAN!JAKE who loves coming in to save you at the right time and how the bad side happens to go for you even though you haven't become his woman yet. not that he'll let you know he's the one behind the mask it's too dangerous if others were to find out you were associated with the man himself and aim for you. he can't risk losing you.

SPIDERMAN!JAKE who kind of becomes friends with you in his superhero disguise but still a stranger as jake. and it's all because of the numerous saves where he flirts with you shamelessly after defeating the enemy. "don't you think it's too much of a coincidence how i always come for your rescue?" hanging upside down at your face right after knocking out the black hat, "i think it's destiny," lowering the pitch of his voice as he moves even closer.

SPIDERMAN!JAKE who now drops by in your bookstore in his suit for a quick flirt and who hopelessly stares at you across the room in uni wondering when it'll be jake's turn and not the friendly neighborhood spiderman.

SPIDERMAN!JAKE who gets caught while staring and confronted by an uncomfortable you whether there's something he needs. and who has his clumsy ass exposed the same night when he's fighting right outside your window, his mask getting pulled off by the monster. his wide eyes looking straight at you like a deer caught in headlights as you realize it all. fuck, it's all over.

SPIDERMAN!JAKE who gets hit and punched more than usual because he thinks he's lost his chance with you, but having his world blown over when you let him in, more like invite and clean off his wounds for him.

SPIDERMAN!JAKE who can't keep his eyes off the tiny pajama set you have on but he also can't do anything because now he has an identity you know of, a face you'll either love or hate. no longer be able to hide behind his mask to hit on you. truly his feelings show on his face, in his eyes, the way they stay stuck on the plush of your thighs, on the fallen strap of your top as you stand between his legs, hand on his jaw holding it up while you apply the ointment on the corner of his lips. "what were you thinking? you never got beaten this bad!" "you don't wanna know," oh how hot you are when you scold him.

SPIDERMAN!JAKE who thinks he's in utopia with how you had no trouble accepting him as spiderman. even seeming more interested than ever. but no he will not get his hopes up yet.

SPIDERMAN!JAKE who dies and ascends to heaven when he comes back to say goodnight and you pull down his mask to leave a kiss on his lips, "goodnight," "w-what?" "i'll see you in chem tomorrow, hm?" "yeah? yeah, right goodnight,"

SPIDERMAN!JAKE who calls you his sunflower eversince, assuming you've that kind of a situationship. his symbol of faith, positivity and hope. his corner of peace in his topsy-turvy life.

SPIDERMAN!JAKE who takes you on unofficial swing dates, his mind travelling places when your body presses into his as you hold on for dear life. it's hot though the way he shoots the spider-web and swings. but it's even hotter when you're sitting in his room watching him work on upgrading his high tech suit and web formulae.

SPIDERMAN!JAKE who goes "you have something here," pointing at a spot besides your lips before leaning in and leaving a soft kiss there then moving towards your lips in a pepper of more each getting convulsively harsher.

SPIDERMAN!JAKE who tucks your hair behind your ear when they fall into your eyes as you speak. listening to each and everything you say and the way your lips move and your hair frames your face.

SPIDERMAN!JAKE who buys you gifts and leaves them in the bookstore with short little sweet notes. who takes selfies of him in his suit half up in the air mid-swing and updates you about his day. "hey sunflower, im on my way to find this new flying green elf they say has been going around causing trouble, i'm so excited!" his voice notes sound with a quick hey watch out! or something in background as he almost falls off in the middle of the road texting you.

SPIDERMAN!JAKE who videocalls you at night and watches you fall asleep as he repairs his fight damaged suits, smiling at the sight of your pouty lips and the way your cheeks squish against the pillow when you snuggle into it, wishing it was him instead.

SPIDERMAN!JAKE who short-circuits and malfunctions when you find the secret folder in his laptop looking through his perfect plan to win you. but what can he do, he admits he had grown obsessed with you before he even knew it himself. "uh just, well it all worked out anyway, i didn't really have to do any of that," "just so you know, i liked you well enough as spiderman and jake. i somewhat did have some idea that you were spiderman,"

SPIDERMAN!JAKE who sometimes arrives at 'dates' hours later because "hey, sorry sunflower im running just a little late, there's a bit of traffic," speaking into the phone as he hangs on a bus mid-fight. which he actually got into while looking for wild flowers for you near the river and the villain spotted him clad in his red & blue attire after he escaped the last time owing to some defects in his suit,"jake are those sirens?" "no?" "where are you?" "five blocks away, four, three actually just gimme me two minutes i'll be there!"

SPIDERMAN!JAKE who does unexpected things to save you because you always jump in when you see him being pushed into a corner. his web sticking to the bottom of your top as he pulls you to him, hands going around your waist,"i'm gonna throw you out the window now," "wha-" before he's swinging you out. chill he'll shoot the web to help you down.

SPIDERMAN!JAKE as much as he loves you, is tired of you insisting to tag along because baby you're in too much danger in the main area "i'm coming with you!" "no you're not!" "jake!" though he loves how you want to be there for him.

SPIDERMAN!JAKE who once ends up fighting a monster in the corridors of the uni and later has to hide from the others but can't seem to find the place for it when you come to the rescue and drag him into a janitor's closet in the corner. "you just kissed me," "i know" "jake we're literally hiding to save your ass," "i just couldn't help it. sorry." having your own little seven minutes in heaven in there.

SPIDERMAN!JAKE who drops into your balcony at night with the excuse that's his web liquid finished or whatever that is and that he can't take the bus or the cab or walk home. ending up in your bed cuddled together after a messy makeout session. or sometimes knocking against your window all wound up, feeling slightly guilty when you wince and worry while cleaning the cuts and bruises,"are you okay? does it hurt a lot?" "m used to it," "please be careful, i hate it when you get like this," but boy his mind's somewhere else again, leaning in to kiss you, lips falling to your jaw and trailing down to the crook of your neck when you dodge it on the lips. "jake, you're injured!" "i'm sorry, sunflower. just gimme a kiss it gives me strength," "you better rip apart that lizard next time i can't see you like this," "yes love, i promise, now-" his lips capturing yours in a hard suck.

SPIDERMAN!JAKE who does the iconic peter gwen kiss on the rooftop the night he has dinner with your parents after they catch you two in your room. "do you think your dad likes me?" "not too sure about that, but he'll have to deal with it, i'm not leaving you,"

SPIDERMAN!JAKE who randomly picks you up from the streets after pinging you a quick text and swings you to these special spots no one can get, high up in the air to show you the little arrangements he makes with his webs. "jake! what was that!" "didn't you get my message?" "i did but i didn't know you'd just grab me like that!" "did you like it though?" ... "yes i did," big smooch

SPIDERMAN!JAKE who even after all this is shit ton scared that'll you'll drop him if he asks you to be official. also afraid of the fact that being with him would put you in constant danger. isolating himself away from you to think it through and somewhere in him mind weighing it out that he's better out of your life than in it. it's all fun and games when it's the romance but what when you're used as his weakness?

SPIDERMAN!JAKE who has a deadly fight with the green goblin, you getting dragged into it and being attacked against before he uses all of his last strengths to defeat the villain and save you a second over death.

SPIDERMAN!JAKE who realizes that at this point being without him would cost him the life of both you and him. he's too in love with you and you're too in love with him to stay apart. you're the safest by his side where he can see you and save you.

SPIDERMAN!JAKE who after the said deadly fight, the worst in his superhero career, at the verge of passing out holds onto you, hands cupping your cheeks and foreheads leaning against each other, eyes closed and deep breaths after a long kiss,"can i be your boyfriend?" SPIDERMAN!JAKE who asks to be the one for you.

TAGLIST ( open. ) @s00buwu

[wolvietxt]

𝓕OR THE 𝓕IRST 𝓣IME …

pairing : dean winchester x female!reader warnings : crying, friends to lovers, fluff, really light angst (squint and you’ll miss it), hunts, food mentions, reader has implied insomnia (self indulgent sorry) wc : 6.1k😈

the gravel crunched under the impala’s tires as dean pulled into the parking lot of yet another roadside diner. the neon sign buzzed faintly overhead, casting flickering hues of blue and pink over the impala’s sleek frame.  

“another diner?” you teased, sliding out of the passenger seat. your boots hit the ground with a soft thud. “you know, there are other food groups besides pie.”  

dean smirked, locking the car with a flick of his wrist. “and i’m sure you’ll tell me all about them, kid. but i don’t need food advice from someone who orders salad at a steakhouse.”  

“first of all, that was only one time,” you shot back, walking alongside him toward the door. “and second, that salad was really really good.”  

dean snorted, holding the door open for you. “whatever helps you sleep at night, darlin’.”  

the diner was exactly what you expected: vinyl booths, laminate tables, and the comforting hum of an old jukebox in the corner. dean led the way to a booth by the window, sliding in across from you.  

“so,” you started, picking up a menu. “are you gonna do that thing where you order half of what’s on the menu? or just pie and coffee?”  

“both,” dean said without hesitation, his eyes skimming the options. “you know me. go big or go home.”  

the waitress appeared moments later, all smiles and a notepad in hand. dean ordered two burgers and, of course, pie. you went with something lighter, which earned you a raised brow.  

“you sure that’s enough?” he asked once the waitress left. “you’re gonna get hungry and start eyeing my fries. i can feel it.”  

“i am perfectly capable of ordering my own food, thanks.”  

“we’ll see.”  

the food arrived faster than expected, and you fell into easy conversation, catching up on the day’s events. the current hunt had been straightforward so far - just a basic salt-and-burn. still, you weren’t exactly looking forward to it. you never where when it came to hunts, they were more dean’s speciality. the looming anxiety and sense of impending doom wasn’t ever remotely enjoyable for you.

“so, what’s the plan for tomorrow?” you asked, grabbing a fry from your plate. “wrap this one up and hit the road?”  

“probably,” dean replied between bites. “unless we get more intel on that death omen case. sam thinks there’s a connection between the two.”  

“of course he does,” you said with a laugh. “guy can’t take a win without overthinking it.”  

“hey, that overthinking saves our asses sometimes,” dean pointed out, though his tone was more fond than annoyed.  

“true. but it also gets him hexed.” you grinned. “remember that time with the chickens?”  

dean barked out a laugh, nearly choking on his drink. “oh man, that was gold. i think we have a picture of him running from that rooster somewhere.”  

“we should frame it,” you said, smirking. “hang it in the bunker’s library for motivation.”  

“you’re evil, you know that?” he remarked, his smug grin widening further.

“takes one to know one,” you shot back, plucking the cherry off of his slice of pie and popping it into your mouth.

your conversations were effortless, the kind of back-and-forth that felt like second nature at this point. it wasn’t until dean reached over and grabbed one of your fries that you gave him a look.  

“you’ve got two whole plates,” you said, swatting his hand away.  

“what can i say?” he replied, popping the fry into his mouth with zero shame. “yours taste better.”  

before you could respond, the waitress returned to drop off the check. she hesitated for a second, then smiled warmly.  

“you two are such a cute couple,” she said, her voice casual but sincere.  

you froze, your mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water.  

“we are not a couple,” you blurted out, at the exact same time dean said, “yeah, never.”  

the waitress blinked, clearly taken aback by your synchronized response. “oh, uh, sorry! my mistake.”  

she hurried off, and you stared after her, still processing what just happened.  

“well, that wasn’t awkward at all,” dean muttered, reaching for his coffee.  

“why does this keep happening?” you asked, more to yourself than to him.  

“beats me,” dean said with a shrug, though you caught the flicker of something in his expression - amusement, maybe? “guess we just give off the vibe.”  

“the vibe?” you echoed.  

“you know.” he waved a hand between the two of you. “like… a vibe.”  

“that explains nothing.”  

“then i guess it can just be one of life’s great mysteries, sweetheart.”  

you tried to let it go, but the waitress’s comment lingered in the back of your mind. it wasn’t the first time someone had assumed you and dean were a couple, and it probably wouldn’t be the last. still, it felt… different this time.  

you glanced across the table at dean. he was back to his usual self, leaning against the booth with a lazy grin and a smart remark on the tip of his tongue.  

he caught you staring and raised an eyebrow. “what?”  

“nothing,” you said quickly, looking away. “just thinking.”  

“about what?”  

“the hunt,” you lied.  

he didn’t press, but you could feel his gaze lingering for a moment longer before he turned his attention back to the check.  

“you ready to hit the road?” he asked, sliding out of the booth.  

“yeah,” you said, grabbing your jacket. “let’s go.”  

the drive back to the motel was quiet, the hum of the impala’s engine filling the silence. dean had turned on the radio, and metallica’s prince charming filtered through the speakers. you leaned your head against the window, watching the dark countryside blur past.  

“why are you being so damn quiet?” dean said after a while. “i know i’m always complaining about it but it really doesn’t feel right when you’re not yapping my ear off.”

“‘m just tired,” you replied, though that wasn’t entirely true. your mind was still replaying the waitress’s words and the way dean had brushed them off so easily.  

“well, get some rest,” he said, his voice softer now. “we’ve got a long day tomorrow.”  

“okay, dean.” you nodded, letting your eyes drift shut as baby rumbled on.  

the next morning, you were back on the road, this time heading toward a small, rundown cemetery. the salt-and-burn had gone smoothly, but the death omen case was proving to be trickier than expected.  

“so what are we looking for?” you asked as dean parked the car near the edge of the cemetery, trying to rub your eyes subtly so he wouldn’t notice your fatigue.

“old journal entries mentioned a spirit tied to a cursed locket,” he said, grabbing his duffel bag. “we find the locket, we find the spirit.”  

“sounds easy enough,” you said, though you both knew it rarely was.  

the two of you spent the next hour combing through the overgrown graves, your flashlights cutting through the dark.  

“anything?” dean called out from a few rows over.  

“not yet,” you replied, brushing aside some vines. “but this place gives me the creeps.”  

“aww, don’t tell me you’re scared, sweetheart,” dean teased, his grin audible even from a distance.  

“you wish,” you shot back, though you couldn’t deny the way your nerves prickled.  

as you moved to another section of the cemetery, you couldn’t shake the feeling that someone - or something - was watching you.  

“dean,” you called out, your voice quieter now.  

“yeah? you okay, sweetheart?” his voice softer now, a hint of panic sneaking through. 

“i think we’ve got company.”  

he was at your side in an instant, his flashlight sweeping the area. “stay close,” he said, his tone serious now.  

you nodded, your heart pounding as the shadows seemed to close in around you. whatever was out there, you had a feeling this hunt was about to get a whole lot messier.  

the night was heavy with an unnatural stillness, the kind that made your skin crawl. somewhere deep in the shadows of the cemetery, you just knew something was watching you.  

you stayed close to dean as the two of you scanned the overgrown headstones, flashlights cutting through the darkness.  

“you hear that?” you whispered, your voice barely carrying over the faint rustle of leaves in the breeze.  

“hear what?” dean replied, his gaze darting around.  

then it came again - a low, guttural moan, echoing through the cemetery like a warning.  

“that,” you said, gripping the iron crowbar in your hand a little tighter.  

dean’s jaw tensed. “stay behind me,” he muttered, pulling out his gun.  

“you know i’m not great at staying behind,” you quipped, though your attempt at humor fell flat against the weight of the moment.  

“yeah, i noticed,” he said, flashing you a wry grin despite the tension. “but humor me, darlin’. just this once.”  

the two of you moved cautiously toward the source of the sound, your flashlights dancing over moss-covered graves and weathered stone angels. the air grew colder the closer you got, your breath puffing out in visible clouds.  

then you saw it - a faint, ghostly figure hovering near an old, crumbling mausoleum. its features were obscured, but its presence was anything but subtle.  

“that’s gotta be our spirit,” dean said, his voice low.  

“looks like it’s guarding something,” you observed, nodding toward the mausoleum door.  

“the locket,” dean guessed.  

“how do we get past that thing without getting our faces ripped off?”  

“i distract it, you grab the locket,” he said simply, like it was the most obvious plan in the world.  

“oh, sure,” you said, rolling your eyes. “because splitting up always works so well for us.” when you looked up at, him he finally noticed the twinge of fear in your tired gaze.

“trust me, sweetheart,” dean said, flashing you a soft smile he hoped appeared reassuring. “i’ve got this.”  

against your better judgment, you let dean take the lead. he stepped into the spirit’s line of sight, his gun raised.  

“hey, casper!” he called out. “over here!”  

the ghost turned toward him, its hollow eyes locking onto his figure. it let out an unearthly wail that sent chills down your spine, then began moving toward him with an unnatural speed.  

“anytime now!” dean shouted, firing a round of rock salt to slow it down.  

you darted toward the mausoleum, shoving the heavy door open with all your strength. inside, the air was damp and musty, the faint smell of decay clinging to the walls.  

your flashlight landed on an old wooden box sitting atop a stone altar. you didn’t have time to think - you grabbed the box and pried it open, revealing the cursed locket inside.  

“got it!” you called out, stuffing the locket into your pocket and running back toward dean.  

the ghost was still focused on him, though it was clearly losing its patience. dean fired another shot of rock salt, sending it reeling.  

“move it, kid!” he yelled, glancing back at you.  

“i’m coming!” you shouted, skidding to a halt beside him.  

together, you pulled out matches and a small jar of accelerant. you didn’t waste a second, dousing the locket and striking a match.  

the moment the flames touched the cursed object, the ghost let out a piercing scream, its form disintegrating into a shower of sparks before disappearing entirely.  

“well, that was fun,” dean said, lowering his gun.  

“yeah, a real blast,” you replied, still catching your breath.  

he turned to you, his expression softening slightly. “you okay?”  

“yeah,” you said, nodding. “thanks for the save.”  

“always,” he said with a small smile, clapping you on the shoulder. “come on, let’s get out of here before something else decides to show up.”  

the drive back to the motel was quieter than usual. the adrenaline from the hunt had worn off, leaving you both exhausted.  

“you’re really bad at staying behind,” dean said suddenly, breaking the silence.  

“and you’re really bad at not playing the hero,” you shot back.  

he glanced at you, his expression somewhere between exasperation and fondness. “you’re gonna get yourself killed one day, you know that?”  

“not if you’re around to save me,” you said lightly, though there was an edge of truth to your words.  

he didn’t reply, but the way his grip on the steering wheel tightened said enough.  

back at the motel, you both collapsed onto your respective beds, the exhaustion from the hunt settling into your bones. the cheap, scratchy sheets were far from comfortable, but you barely noticed, too tired to care.  

“you want first shower?” dean asked, already kicking off his boots and wincing at the creak of the bed frame beneath him.  

“you take it,” you mumbled, waving him off and stifling a yawn. “i’ll just... lie here for a sec.”  

he paused, giving you a look. “you good? you’ve been dragging all day.”  

“just tired,” you said quickly, forcing a small smile. “nothing a shower and some sleep won’t fix.”  

dean didn’t seem convinced. “you sure? you’ve been looking... kinda rough.” his voice was softer now, almost hesitant. “when’s the last time you actually got a decent night’s sleep?”  

“i sleep,” you said, avoiding his gaze by focusing on the ceiling.  

“yeah, but do you sleep?” he pressed, gesturing vaguely with one hand. “like, real sleep. out cold. no tossing and turning. none of that zombie stuff.”  

“i’m fine, dean,” you said firmly, though your voice lacked any real bite.  

he lingered for a moment longer, clearly unconvinced but unsure what else to say. eventually, he grabbed a towel and disappeared into the bathroom with a quiet, “if you say so.”  

the sound of the shower running filled the silence, but your mind was louder. it wasn’t that you didn’t want to sleep - it was just that you couldn’t. not really. the hunts, the adrenaline, the nightmares - they all tangled together into a mess you couldn’t quite escape.  

you stared at the water-stained ceiling, your thoughts drifting back to the hunt and, inevitably, to dean. the way he’d thrown himself between you and that ghost without hesitation, his instincts sharper than anyone you’d ever met. it wasn’t just about the hunt; it was about him.  

you sighed, shaking your head at yourself. this wasn’t the time to overthink things.  

when dean emerged from the bathroom, steam trailing after him, his hair damp and sticking up at odd angles, you were still lying in the same spot.  

“your turn,” he said, tossing a towel onto your bed.  

you groaned, forcing yourself to sit up. “if i fall asleep in there, it’s your fault.”  

he smirked, stretching out on his bed and crossing his arms behind his head. “just don’t drown, sweetheart.”  

rolling your eyes, you dragged yourself into the bathroom, the hot water doing wonders for your sore muscles and the lingering chill from the hunt. by the time you came out, the room was dark, and dean was already passed out, one arm draped over his face.  

you stood there for a moment, watching the rise and fall of his chest, his face relaxed in a way you rarely got to see.  

“goodnight, dean,” you murmured softly, pulling a blanket over yourself as you sank onto your bed.  

as you lay there, the quiet hum of the motel settling around you, you tried to let the exhaustion take over. but your thoughts wouldn’t quiet, your body still on edge despite how tired you were.  

at some point, dean shifted, his voice groggy but unmistakable. “you okay?”  

“yeah,” you lied, turning onto your side to face the wall.  

“you sure?” his voice was softer now, thick with sleep.  

“get some rest, dean,” you mumbled, not trusting yourself to say more.  

“right back at you,” he muttered, the faintest hint of concern lingering in his tone before his breathing evened out again.  

you closed your eyes, willing yourself to follow his lead, even as your thoughts refused to let you.

a storm rolled in by the time you and dean reached the next job. thick, gray clouds churned overhead as rain hammered against the impala's windshield, the wipers working overtime. the cabin in question - a decrepit thing that looked more haunted than it probably was - loomed at the end of a dirt road.  

"of course it's in the middle of nowhere," you muttered, peering at it through the rain.  

"yeah, because monsters love suburban neighborhoods," dean said, his tone dripping with sarcasm as he parked the car.  

you snorted, unbuckling your seatbelt. "remind me again why we couldn’t tackle this in daylight?"  

"because the kid who called us swears the thing only shows up at night," he replied, grabbing his shotgun and tossing you a flashlight. "come on, sweetheart. we’ve got work to do."  

the inside of the cabin was worse than the outside. peeling wallpaper, creaky floors, and an unsettling number of broken mirrors made up the interior.  

"i'm guessing the shattered mirrors aren't just bad decorating choices," you said, shining your flashlight across the room.  

"nope," dean said. "sounds like we're dealing with a vengeful spirit. probably tied to one of these." he gestured to the shards of glass littering the floor.  

"great," you muttered. "so, we find the mirror, salt it, and burn it. easy enough."  

"you say that now," dean said, smirking as he headed toward the stairs. "but nothing's ever that easy, is it?"  

you split up to cover more ground - though not without a bit of grumbling on your part. it was horrible hunting without dean, the anxiety looming over you multiplying by a thousand. the cabin had two floors, plus a creepy basement you were hoping to avoid.  

"why do i always get stuck with the creepy basements?" you whined after him as he ascended the stairs.  

"because you're the rookie," dean shot back, his grin audible even from a distance.  

"oh, real mature," you muttered, making your way toward the basement door, sucking in as many deep breaths as you could manage.

the basement was every bit as awful as you’d imagined. damp, dark, and filled with cobwebs. your flashlight flickered as you descended the creaking stairs, and you swore under your breath.  

"if this thing jumps out at me, i’m leaving dean to deal with it solo," you muttered to yourself, sweeping the light across the room.  

you spotted an old, ornate mirror leaning against the far wall. it was cracked but still intact - a likely candidate for the spirit's anchor.  

"dean, i found something," you said into the walkie-talkie dean had insisted you carry.  

"copy that," came his reply. "on my way down. don't touch it."  

"wasn't planning on it, boss," you said, rolling your eyes even though he couldn’t see you.  

dean joined you a minute later, shotgun in hand. he gave the mirror a once-over, his expression hardening.  

"yep, that's the one," he said. "you got the salt?"  

you nodded, pulling the bag from your backpack.  

"good. i'll cover you," he said, positioning himself between you and the dark corners of the basement.  

"you know, for someone who calls me a rookie, you sure don’t trust me to handle things on my own," you teased, pouring the salt over the mirror.  

"nah, i trust you," he said, a faint smirk tugging at his lips. "just don’t want you getting yourself killed. i'd miss you too much."  

the comment caught you off guard, and you glanced at him, trying to gauge if he was serious. but before you could say anything, the temperature in the room plummeted.  

a figure materialized behind dean - a translucent woman with hollow eyes and a twisted expression of rage.  

"dean!" you shouted, and he spun around just in time to fire a round of rock salt at her. the spirit screeched, vanishing into thin air.  

"you okay?" he asked, turning back to you.  

"yeah," you said, your heart pounding. "but she’s definitely not gone for good."  

"not until we burn this thing," dean said, nodding toward the mirror.  

you struck a match, lighting the accelerant you’d poured over the salt. the mirror went up in flames, and another anguished wail echoed through the basement before fading into silence.  

back upstairs, you and dean collapsed onto the dusty couch, both of you breathing heavily.  

"you know," you said, leaning your head back, "for a rookie, i think i did pretty well tonight."  

dean chuckled, running a hand through his hair. "yeah, you didn’t screw up too bad."  

"high praise," you said, feeling fatigue spread over you once more.

he glanced at you, his expression softening in that way that always caught you off guard. "i mean it," he said. "you did good, sweetheart."  

you couldn’t tell if it was the exhaustion or the way he said it, but something about the moment felt different. heavier.  

"thanks," you said softly, suddenly feeling a little self-conscious under his gaze.  

before either of you could say anything else, the walkie-talkie crackled to life.  

"hey, uh, guys?" sam’s voice came through, tinged with static. "you alive down there?"  

"barely," dean replied, grabbing the device. "but the spirit's toast. we'll meet you back at the motel."  

"got it," sam said.  

the drive back was quiet again, but this time, it wasn’t just the exhaustion. something unspoken lingered between you, making the silence feel heavier than usual.  

"so," you said finally, breaking the tension. "you think sam's gonna be mad we didn’t wait for him?"  

"nah," dean said, though his smirk suggested otherwise. "he’s used to it by now."  

you laughed, shaking your head. "poor guy."  

"hey, he knew what he was signing up for," dean said. "besides, he’s probably just glad you didn’t burn the whole cabin down."  

"oh, so now i’m a fire hazard?"  

"just saying, i’ve seen you with matches," he teased, and you couldn’t help but laugh again.  

back at the motel, sam was already poring over research for the next hunt.  

"how’d it go?" he asked, barely looking up.  

"spirit's gone," dean said, flopping onto one of the beds. "but the place was a real fixer-upper."  

"great," sam said, clearly not listening.  

"you know, you’re a terrible audience," you said, plopping down beside dean.  

sam hummed distractedly, still scrolling through his laptop.  

"don’t take it personally, sweetheart," dean said, grinning at you. "he’s just jealous he missed all the action."  

you rolled your eyes but couldn’t help smiling. despite the exhaustion, there was a strange warmth settling in your chest, one you weren’t quite ready to examine too closely.  

later that night, after sam had gone to bed, you and dean found yourselves sitting outside the motel, the night air cool and refreshing after the storm.  

“you still can’t sleep, huh? we really gotta get that checked out.” dean uttered, breaking the silence. “c’mon kid, what’s got your mind going so crazy?”

"you ever think about, you know, taking a break?" you asked, staring up at the stars, surprised with how he could always clock you so quickly.

"from hunting?" dean asked, raising an eyebrow.  

"yeah," you said. "just... doing something normal for once."  

he snorted. "normal’s overrated."  

"come on," you said, nudging him with your elbow. "you’ve never thought about it? not even a little?"  

he was quiet for a moment, his gaze fixed on the horizon. "maybe," he admitted finally. "but normal’s not in the cards for people like us."  

"i guess not," you said softly, though you couldn’t help but wish it were different.  

the conversation faded into a comfortable silence, the kind that didn’t need to be filled.  

"you know," dean said after a while, "you’re not half bad at this whole hunting thing."  

"high praise," you said, smiling faintly.  

"i mean it," he said, his tone more serious than you expected. "you’ve got guts. most people wouldn’t last a week in this life, but you - "  

he stopped, shaking his head like he wasn’t sure how to finish the thought.  

"but me?" you prompted, your heart pounding for reasons you didn’t quite understand.  

"but you’re different," he said finally, his voice barely above a whisper.  

you didn’t know what to say to that, so you didn’t say anything. instead, you let the moment hang between you, heavy and unspoken but somehow perfect in its own way.  

the next hunt came quicker than expected - barely two days after the cabin job. a string of disappearances in a sleepy town near a dense forest had drawn your attention. while sam was still digging through lore, you and dean decided to scout the area.  

"we’ll take the impala and check out the woods," dean had said, tossing you your jacket.  

"because that worked so well last time," you quipped, zipping up your coat.  

"what can i say?" he said with a smirk. "i like to live dangerously."  

the forest was eerily quiet as the two of you trudged along a narrow dirt path. the afternoon sunlight barely filtered through the thick canopy of leaves above, casting the area in a dim, golden haze.  

"you know," you said, stepping over a fallen branch, "i don’t think i’ve ever seen you willingly go for a hike. kind of nice to see you in your natural habitat."  

dean shot you a look. "i’ll have you know i’m very outdoorsy."  

"oh, sure," you said, grinning. "nothing says 'man of the wilderness' like a guy who packs cheeseburgers for every meal."  

"hey, those cheeseburgers keep me alive," he said, pretending to be offended. "besides, you’re one to talk. what’s in your backpack right now? candy bars?"  

"no comment," you said, giggling as he shook his head.  

you reached a clearing after about an hour of walking. the ground was covered in strange markings - symbols carved into the dirt, arranged in an ominous circle.  

"well, that’s not creepy at all," you muttered, crouching to get a closer look.  

dean knelt beside you, his brow furrowed. "witchcraft, maybe?"  

"maybe," you said. "but why the forest? wouldn’t a house or barn make more sense?"  

"maybe they like the fresh air," he said, scanning the area with his flashlight. "either way, we need to be careful. whoever’s behind this probably doesn’t want us poking around."  

"yeah, no kidding," you said, standing up and brushing dirt off your hands.  

the rest of the day was spent investigating the clearing, but the markings didn’t offer many clues. frustrated, you and dean decided to head back to the motel.  

"we’ll regroup with sam, see if he’s found anything," dean said as you walked back to the car.  

"do you think this one’s human?" you asked, wide eyed with expectation.

he glanced at you, his jaw tight. "maybe. but something about it feels... off. i don’t like it."  

you nodded, falling silent. his instincts were rarely wrong, and if dean was uneasy, you knew better than to dismiss it.  

back at the motel, sam had made some progress.  

"the symbols in the clearing - they’re part of a summoning ritual," he explained, showing you a dusty old book.  

"great," dean said, flopping onto the bed. "so, what are we dealing with? demons? spirits? something worse?"  

sam hesitated, glancing between the two of you. "it’s a summoning ritual for a wendigo."  

your stomach dropped.  

"a wendigo?" you repeated. "seriously?"  

"yeah," sam said grimly. "and if the markings in that clearing are any indication, they’re close to finishing the ritual."  

"perfect," dean muttered, rubbing a hand over his face. 

the plan was simple: return to the forest, disrupt the ritual, and kill the wendigo if it had already been summoned.  

"simple," you said, your tone dry as you loaded your shotgun.  

"hey, it’s worked before," dean said, smirking as he handed you a flare gun.  

"yeah, and almost got us killed before," you shot back, though you couldn’t help the fearful expression that broke out on your face.

"what can i say?" he said, shrugging. "we’re good at not dying."  

the forest felt different this time - heavier, like the air itself was charged with something dark and unnatural.  

"stay close," dean said, his voice low.  

"i definitely wasn’t planning on wandering off," you replied, gripping your shotgun tightly.  

he shot you a quick glance, his expression softer than you expected. "just... stay close, okay?"  

"okay," you said quietly, feeling your heart skip a beat.  

the clearing was empty when you arrived, but the symbols on the ground glowed faintly, pulsing with an eerie red light.  

"that’s new," dean said, his jaw tightening.  

"you think the ritual’s already started?" you asked.  

"probably," he said, scanning the area. "we need to move fast."  

you started disrupting the symbols, kicking dirt over them while dean poured salt and lighter fluid around the edges.  

"almost done," you said, glancing over at him.  

but before he could respond, a bloodcurdling roar echoed through the forest.  

"guess that answers that," dean muttered, raising his shotgun.  

the wendigo burst into the clearing, its pale, emaciated form moving with unnatural speed.  

"stay back!" dean shouted, firing a shot that barely slowed it down.  

you raised your flare gun, aiming for its chest, but the creature was too fast. before you could fire, it lunged at dean, knocking him to the ground.  

"dean!" you screamed, panic surging through you.  

he rolled out of the way just in time, his shotgun skidding across the ground.  

"shoot it!" he shouted, and you didn’t hesitate.  

the flare hit the wendigo square in the chest, igniting it in a burst of flames. it screeched, thrashing wildly before collapsing into a smoldering heap.  

dean scrambled to his feet, his breathing ragged.  

"you okay?" you asked, rushing to his side.  

"yeah," he said, wincing as he rolled his shoulder. "you?"  

"fine," you said, though your hands were still trembling.  

he gave you a once-over, his eyes lingering on yours. "you did good, sweetheart."  

the drive back was quiet, the adrenaline slowly fading. when you finally reached the motel, sam was waiting anxiously.  

"did you - "  

"it’s dead," dean said, cutting him off.  

sam sighed in relief, but his attention quickly shifted to the way dean’s hand lingered protectively on your waist as you headed inside.  

later that night, as you sat outside the motel again, dean joined you, a beer in hand.  

"that was really scary. are you sure you’re okay?” you admitted, breaking the silence.  

"‘m fine, sweetheart,”  he said, his tone soft.  

"i know," you said, glancing at him. "but still."  

he met your gaze, something unspoken passing between you. "you know, you’ve got guts," he said, echoing his words from before.  

"so you’ve said," you replied, smiling faintly.  

he shook his head, his expression turning serious. "i mean it. you’re different. special."  

your breath caught, and for a moment, you couldn’t speak.  

"dean - "  

"just let me say it," he said, cutting you off.  

you nodded, your heart pounding.  

"i’ve been doing this job a long time," dean said, his voice low, almost like he was thinking out loud. "and i’m not exactly the kind of guy who’s good at this stuff, but… i like you. more than i probably should."  

your heart skipped a beat, your breath catching in your throat, but you stayed quiet, letting him keep going.  

"it’s not just because you’re super fucking cool or because you can keep up with me," he added, a small smirk tugging at his lips before fading. "it’s because you’re the one person who makes all this crap we deal with feel… worth it."  

his gaze locked on yours, steady and serious. "i don’t know what that says about me, but i know i don’t want to screw this up."  

tears pricked at the corners of your eyes, but you bit your lip, refusing to let them fall.  

"i… i don’t know what to say," you whispered, your voice barely audible over the pounding in your chest.  

"you don’t have to say anything," he replied, his lips twitching into a small, nervous smile. 

but you did anyway. "i feel the same way, dean," you said, your voice barely above a whisper.  

his lips quirked into a small smile. "yeah, baby?"  

"yeah," you said, and before you could overthink it, you leaned in, pressing your lips to his.  

the first kiss had barely ended, and you still felt breathless, the taste of him lingering like honey. you pulled back just enough to meet dean’s eyes, your hands still clutching the front of his jacket as if letting go wasn’t an option. he looked at you with a softness that felt rare, his usual bravado replaced by something raw, unguarded.  

"so," you began, trying to find words that didn’t feel ridiculous in a moment like this, "i - "  

but dean leaned in again, cutting you off with another kiss, this one slower but somehow even more consuming.  

"dean," you mumbled against his lips, trying to catch a breath, but his hands cupped your jaw, tilting your face up toward him as if the conversation could wait - like anything else in the world could matter right now.  

"mm-hmm?" he hummed, not pulling back. his mouth moved to the corner of your lips, then your cheek, trailing down to your jaw.  

"i’m trying to - " you started again, only to dissolve into laughter as he pressed a kiss to the spot just below your ear, his stubble grazing your skin in a way that sent a shiver down your spine.  

"nah, sweetheart," he murmured, his voice low and teasing. "you’re not trying to do anything but stay right here."  

you laughed harder, the sound bright and almost giddy, your chest shaking against his. you couldn’t remember the last time you’d felt this light, this happy.  

"dean," you said again, still giggling, "let me talk!"  

"nope," he said, his grin audible even as he kissed the side of your neck. "’m way too busy."  

"dean!" you squealed, trying to push him back, but he was relentless, his arms wrapping around your waist to keep you close.  

"what could possibly be more important than this?" he asked, finally pulling back just enough to look at you. his smile was cocky, but his eyes were warm, filled with a tenderness that made your stomach flip.  

you opened your mouth to respond, but instead, a strange mix of a laugh and a sob came out, and suddenly you were crying - just a little, just enough that he noticed.  

his face changed immediately, his smile dropping as he cupped your face with both hands, his thumbs brushing away the tears that had escaped.  

"hey," he said softly, his brows knitting together. "what’s wrong? fuck… ‘m sorry baby, i - "  

you shook your head quickly, the absurdity of the question making you laugh again, even as more tears fell. "no, no, it’s not that. i’m not upset, i swear."  

"you’re crying, sweetheart," he said, his voice low and concerned. "that usually means something’s wrong."  

"i’m happy, you idiot," you said, laughing through the tears.  

he blinked, his hands still holding your face, as if trying to process the words. "happy?"  

"yes, happy," you said, your voice cracking a little as he wiped at your cheeks. "like... stupidly, ridiculously happy. i just - i didn’t think this would ever happen."  

his expression softened in a way that made your heart ache. "you really thought i wouldn’t want this?"  

"i didn’t know," you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. "i mean, it’s not like you’re exactly forthcoming with your feelings, dean."  

he let out a breathy laugh, his forehead pressing gently against yours. "yeah, well, you’re not wrong there."  

his hands slid down to your waist, holding you close as he looked at you, his green eyes searching your face like he was trying to commit every detail to memory.  

"but for the record," he said, his voice serious now, "this? you? it’s all i’ve wanted for a long time."  

your breath caught, and before you could respond, he was kissing you again, his lips soft but insistent, as if he was making up for lost time.  

this time, you didn’t try to pull back or say anything. you just let yourself fall into it, your fingers tangling in his hair as his hands slid up your back, holding you like you might disappear if he let go.  

when he finally broke the kiss, his lips barely left yours, and he stayed close enough that you could feel his breath against your skin.  

"still happy?" he asked, a teasing edge creeping back into his voice.  

you laughed, your forehead resting against his. "stupidly, ridiculously happy."  

"good," he said, his hands slipping under the hem of your shirt to rest against your waist, his touch warm and grounding. "because i’m not letting you go now, sweetheart."  

"bold of you to assume i’d want you to," you teased, smiling up at him.  

"damn right," he said, his grin returning as he leaned in for another kiss, and this time, you didn’t even try to stop him.  

ᰔ dean winchester : @person-005

taglist form linked in pinned post :3

[itaipava]

— little things about a relationship with f1 boys.

˒ ⌕ LANDO NORRIS

playfully pushing each other’s buttons simply because you can. feigning forgetting important days to surprise you later. falling asleep together to the sound of the rain. sports, video games, boardgames because a couple that plays together, stays together. laughing so hard you can’t breathe. unpredictable hugs.  encouraging each others’ hobbies and interests. inside jokes. lots of it. so many couple selfies. wearing his hoodies and shirts. going on double dates. constantly doing movie marathons. saying “love you” at the end of every phone call.

˒ ⌕ DANIEL RICCIARDO

lunch dates. living your best life together. laughing and singing freely. sweet little texts throughout the day to check in on you. “how was your day?” subconsciously pulling you closer in his sleep. lovingly looking at each other just because. sharing umbrella in the rain/sun. taking photos for each other. “goodbye” and “hello” kisses. road trips - sometimes spontaneous and sometimes carefully planned for weeks prior. running hands through each other’s hair. cooking and doing the dishes together afterwards. little foot massages. never forgetting to say “thank you” for the little things.

˒ ⌕ CARLOS SAINZ

him looking at you when you’re not looking and the soft, comfortable eye contact when you catch him looking and neither looking away as you giddily smile at each other. him saving extra treats like chocolate or candy for you and slipping them in your pocket as a little surprise. him subconsciously sniffing your hair or neck before hugging you even tighter. tracing your features with his fingertips during afternoon cuddles by the window because he finds you so beautiful. always looking at each other first when you find something funny. conversations at midnight, at 3 a.m, at early in the morning, evening, afternoon. it’s falling a little more in love with each inner thought and idea shared. flirty and cheesy words exchanged just because. smiling and laughing till your faces and stomachs hurt.

˒ ⌕ CHARLES LECLERC

stolen gazes in public that become stolen smiles then stolen kisses in the dark. even when surrounded by other people, his eyes always find you and yours him. loving each other’s company so much that you lose track of time; sitting at a corner table in a quaint little café — that later becomes your spot — talking about your ideas and thoughts and dreams for hours and hours until the waiter interrupts, asking you to order again or to leave. him instinctively putting his hand on your knee or on your waist when someone tries to flirt with you. surprise back hugs and soft kisses on the shoulder. innocent neck kisses in an attempt to tickle the other.

˒ ⌕ LEWIS HAMILTON

already acting like a married couple as well as best-friends. saying “honey, i’m home.” breakfast in bed. taking long walks together. watching tv while cuddling. soft laughter. him doing your manicures. soaking in the warm tub together. little glances at each other when in public, in your own little world. slow kisses. slow dances. fancy and traditional dinner dates. “we’re in this together.” taking things slow. giving each other fashion advice. going shopping together. trying on clothes and posing for each other. late night phone calls. wanting to be around each other so much that you make up excuses to have more time together before the date or the hang-out ends. him adoringly looking at you when you’re not looking. matching jewelry

˒ ⌕ OSCAR PIASTRI

being each other’s home and safe haven. casual pda; the hand-holding; having his arm slung over your shoulder; clinging onto his side while walking. leaning closer to each other to whisper inside jokes in public. secrets exchanged at 3 a.m under the covers, facing each other, fingers absentmindedly trailing on one another’s skin. knowing what the other is trying to say with just a look. looking at each other in public, not touching but feeling close. him adoringly watching you from the bed while you do your skincare in front of the vanity table; locking gazes in the mirror, playful smirks forming on your faces. innocent neck kisses. taking plenty of couple selfies/mirror selfies together. unintentionally matching outfits and laughing about it.

˒ ⌕ MAX VERSTAPPEN

it’s acting like an old married couple. enjoying doing the mundane things together. making bad jokes then staring at each other and your faces breaking out in grins and soft laughter. saying one thing but meaning the complete opposite: it’s ‘i hate you’s with loving smiles. accepting each other’s flaws and falling even more in love for them. him giving you his hoodie so that you can wear it when you’re cold or use it as a makeshift blanket. him poking your sides at the most random moments and giving you a mischievous, teasing half-smile when you tell him to stop. facetime calls at night for ‘a few minutes’ that end up lasting for hours with you falling asleep on call and him taking screenshots of it to tease you later but also end up staring at your peaceful, sleeping face with the softest smile.

[the-dumpster-fire-of-life]

Can we plz get hobie with a friend reader whose intuition is crazy strong? Like they at a concert or club and stuff and reader just taps hobbie on the arm and goes “we gotta go. Shits gonna go crazy soon” and not even 5 minutes after they leave cops have surrounded the place. Or she feels the “vibes” of a person and just goes “don’t trust that guy as far as I can throw him” and everyone like “Johnny? No he’s the nicest guy ever he never hurt a fly!” A week later Johnny does some bad shit. “Told you he was sus” just crazy intuition reader helping hobbie avoid trouble or getting out of sticky situations before it gets sticky.

(Hello! Sure I can! Enjoy!)

Hobie Brown x Intuitive!Reader

He trusts you completely

You are his down bitch and he is willing to always put his life in your hands

He trusts you so much, and literally anything you could say

You have proved to him time and time again that you have intuition like crazy

And when shit goes down and you feel off, or you say run, Hobie and you are absolutely booking it

No questions fucking asked

"Hobie."

"Yea?"

"Something's off-"

Don't even finish babe, you're over his shoulder and you guys are outta there

At first he thought you were pulling pranks on him

Or that you had some sort of hidden spidey sense if you were a spider

Even if you did, he still thought you were pulling his arm

It had to take a few times, and even then he thought they were coincidences

But he finally believed you in the club incident

You guys were fine, everything was cool and he finished up a set, he was hanging out with you until you tapped his arm

You were like "Hey, Hobie. We gotta go. Cops are gonna pull up in like…five minutes."

Hobie was confused, but for some reason just thought to trust you and you guys left hand in hand

But he wanted to stay and watch from afar

And what the hell do you know, exactly five minutes later, cops pull up searching for two specific people

You guys were anarchists, and did your own stunts against governments and rebelled in your world, and obviously you guys had people after you two

So, Hobie couldn't help but laugh as you just saved both your asses

From then on he is always looking for you or at you in situations

Like, he's studying you and reading you to figure out if you think something is up

If something is, he's grabbing you and your guys' friends (like Pav, Miles or Gwen) and getting everyone out of there

Or sometimes he'll take your intuition and you guys will plan

He is sorta wary though at first hene it's about people or someone he knows

Is the one to say

"Don't worry, he's harmless!"

Until that mf is being dragged away or did some shit to the gang

You are able to read vibes very easily, and he is able to be in awe of that

When you guys meet new people, he'll be wary until you don't say anything, or you deem them not suspicious

Especially with Pavitr and Miles, you guys were pretty cool with them because for once, you didn't find bad vibes and you actually liked their vibes

You help keep him out of situations with people and anything

Please tell him "I told you so" when he doesn't believe you

You guys are always a duo planning something off your intuition

Especially when the whole thing with Miles went down

You told him that something was gonna happen, and he and you prepared to help Miles get out of there

Any situation you guys have, he trusts your judgment and you alwaye help him and your friends out of sticu situations

Plus, he brags about his partners skill

[lumineary-arts]

A lot of people are asking how Cabin Fever would go down, so like for the Promening I wrote down a lil summary. Its basically the same beats, so don't expect huge differences to the original.

Also, I never clarify which camper swaps with who, I'll probably give that some thought sometime later.

Since this is happening after the events of the Promening, N made a plan with Uzi and Thad to investigate the camp in order to find more clues about where his little sister Cyn disappeared off to, as well as what the meaning of the collars were.

And, like in the original, Uzi and Thad become the new camp counsellors! Thad's pretty intimidating, so Uzi's the one who tries to lead the class forward. V and J, beloved and popular among their peers, are the only ones who actually convince the class to trust them. N's... pretty much ignored. He's usually the type to be able to brush off this kinda thing with a nervous laugh, but something about the way they shower Uzi with so much flirty attention makes him feel uneasy...

The knowledge that his classmates and his only friends were having tons of fun because he wasn't there just overwhelms and overheats his senses, causing his solver to break a few windows while he investigates the abandoned cabins and looks for Cyn. It doesn't help that Thad later comes in to rub salt in the wound, hinting that Uzi would ditch him at the drop of a hat if given the chance. This ultimately ends up spiralling into N's solver slowly showing its horrific side when he later comes back to tell Uzi about what he's discovered in the cabins.

And suddenly, Thad isn't laughing anymore. He remembers Doll from the mansion, he knows exactly what that solver is, and he needs N dead as soon as possible. This causes Thad and Uzi to start fighting for the first time, with her defending N's actions to her core, even running off to find him. Poor Thad :(

We all know what happens in this episode. N's always been a sweetheart and the friendliest person imaginable, even in this AU. But from the grief that was losing his little sister, the dejection he felt every day from his own class, and the fear that Uzi would leave him at any point solidified his transformation. What's horrifying about this form is that, while he's not in total control of his actions, it's not like it doesn't stem from his feelings at least a little. He's friendly and forgiving, but he still feels resentment and hurt towards the classmates that constantly belittle and mock him every day. Especially J, who luckily survives just because Thad protects her. And Thad, the one who most mocked N for being scrawny and weak, suddenly can't win in a fight against the little dude, only being saved once Uzi swoops in and throws N up into the sky.

N's naturally a pacifist, but this is his first time actually harming and murdering other people, so he's even more visibly ashamed than Uzi is in the original episode. He struggles to even open up to Uzi while they have their sky therapy talk, instantly feeling the horror and guilt once he snapped out of it. They talk things out, each confessing that they felt scared without each other and that they needed each other to feel safe and complete. While he never ends up forgiving himself completely, Uzi stops him from spiralling at the revelation of his own actions.

Thad, of course, ends up covering for N in the final bus scene, pinning the blame on himself by "bragging" about the drones he killed at camp. In reality though, he's scared for AND of N, but he shows, in a way, that he cares.

[tess-talks-inc]

On the Topic of Telemachus’s age:

First off preface lmao I’m a stranger on the internet if you want to see this and be like “I don’t care” more power to you this isn’t to condemn it’s more like my explanation? I guess? Of why Telemachus being represented as an adult is important to the context of the story and also to me.

Like obviously once again I acknowledge artistic interpretation, and Telemachus being young is important to the story as well and is part of the role he serves as a comparison to Odysseus, but like sometimes the way some artists draw him makes him look pre-pubescent and like… I understand what you’re doing, and honestly I respect it and I hope you are having fun, but I am holding your hands when I say that him being a young adult with that attitude is so so so important to his character and his relatability.

Adulthood isn’t something that magically appears one day, taking all of your dreams, immaturity, and weakness away. Telemachus embodies that- at twenty years old, he should be inheriting a portion of his father’s house and assisting in its running. He should, for all intents and purposes, have been a full and functional independent adult looking at purely his age. However, he is both literally and mentally stuck in limbo- his father is lost, so he cannot inherit in the case of his father’s death because Odysseus’ status is MIA, and internally he knows (literally mentioned book 1 of the odyssey and in Legendary) that if he reaches for that authority as an adult, the suitors will kill him. He doesn’t feel like he can, or that he is even on equal standing to the suitors as an adult man, he cannot see himself as one like they are, and it’s why he imagines his dad doing it instead. He wants to be saved, a childlike desire, even though he has advanced to a point where he himself can do something physically. That’s why, in the odyssey, Athena tells him explicitly that he can do something about the suitors, and lays out a plan for him. She says that he is no longer a child to his face, and the Telemacheia thus begins to be a coming of age story in which he matures, and later is registered as a threat of the suitors. He is a young adult yes, and he still has aspects of his young self (idealization of his father, daydreaming, him being quick to frustration), but him being an adult who realizes that he can do something and can understand the way he is childish is important and central to his character arc.

His arc is him growing into his skin, adulthood no longer being something that fits him like loose clothes and only a description of his physical state, but something that now is tailored to him, something that feels close to right.

Honestly, I think this aspect of him being an adult while still holding onto these aspects of childishness is where Legendary and We’ll be fine falls short in adapting his character. I understand why, because while he is introduced he is not the true central character of the Saga- it’s Athena and how he affects her, that’s what’s most important. Also, once again, he was just introduced. He’s not matured yet, but he’s realizing he needs to. I still love the songs and the saga, because it’s a good adaptation that poses interesting questions, but yeah. Telemachus is v clearly a young adult and that hasn’t translated over sound yet, which I think is why this whole age debacle is happening alongside the uwu-ifying of the man.

TLDR: Telemachus is a young adult and he acts like it due to his blend of childishness and slowly gained maturity. You can draw him and see him as a child if you want, have fun with it, but at least internally understand how his 20 years of age plays into his arc a of him maturing into manhood outside of your own interpretation of him :D

[drarryspecificrecs]

2024.10 ~ Top 10 longest fics posted on AO3

1. Celestial Being by Year_ofthe_Rabbit [?, 192k]

The entire universe conspired to make clear that the king Draco’s family had put into power deserved to be overthrown in a bloody coup, to be replaced by a younger, brighter, more beloved king. Draco lost everything and was left to live as a despised servant in his aunt's household. He didn't accept it. No, he would do whatever it took to recapture the life he deserved. Even if that was only possible during an equinox ball, where he could live one anonymous night at a time as a captivating celestial being.

2. In Over My Head by @dracoispookie [E, 184k]

The first wizard going to Hogwarts Harry ever meets is an older boy who is polite, funny, and very good looking. Harry navigates his way through school knowing one thing for sure: he's in way over his head.

3. Comfortable by @peculiarmindset [E, 155k]

Draco and Harry goes through the uncharted waters in their relationship, and slowly become more and more comfortable with one another.

4. what shipwrecks look like by @dancingsparks [E, 149k]

It's after the war, but not terribly long after. Just enough for things to appear happily settled. Draco is an Obliviator. Harry is an Auror. Draco is desperately jealous of that.

5. Defiant Hearts by @coffeedrgn87 [E, 117k]

In Regency England, the price of love is high. Draco, the sole heir to the Malfoy family's vast fortune and reputation, longs to marry for love. His father, Lucius Malfoy—a cold, heartless man—disagrees. With his father breathing down his neck, demanding that Draco court a suitable young lady, Draco's time to find a love match is running out. Then there's Harry, the last descendant of the Potter family, once a noble house with a vast fortune, great respect, and considerable influence. Harry knows his duties, but what he truly desires is a love match—an equal. When an unexpected Regency-style meet-cute turns everyone's plans upside down, Draco becomes a rebel, and Harry must make a decision that will define the rest of his life.

6. Can't turn back now (I'm haunted) by exhiled_spirit [M, 108k]

Draco left his friends and (ex) husband in hopes of moving on from his heartbreak and finding himself in the muggle world. Four years later he returned, rich and famous, to finish off his never ending divorce.

7. Taking Off The Rose Coloured Glasses by @thatwheelchairchick [M, 85k]

After his fourth year at Hogwarts, Harry Potter returns to the Dursleys, where their abuse escalates dramatically, leaving him physically and emotionally shattered. Haunted by nightmares and the voice of Voldemort in his mind, Harry begins to doubt Dumbledore’s intentions, recalling past manipulations. Desperate and near death from a particularly brutal beating, Harry reluctantly accepts Voldemort’s offer of help.

8. a barely lit path by @garagepaperback [E, 64k]

Harry wakes up wanting to live, Draco seems determined to - well, not die, exactly, but you could hardly call it a life, either. /// Featuring: peacocks and a family curse, avoidance, red-rimmed eyes in a blanket fort, a fantastic variety of headaches, sobriety, a toy finger trap and whether or not it's possible for good to grow out of something ugly.

9. Your Heart Got a Story With Mine by futurefortem [M, 62k]

When a wizard or witch turns 17 they become off age. When a wizard or witch turns 18 though they discover their soulmate. On Harry's 18th birthday his world turns upside down. /// Or, the one where Draco and Harry are forced to overcome their differences and discover what it actually was that kept fire burning between them.

10. Rotations by TheCrowCrone [E, 53k]

Trainee Auror Potter receives a new assignment as an Azkaban guard and his life, which finally seems to be settling into something almost normal, is turned upsidedown once more the night he saves Draco Malfoy. But in a post-war world, at least for Harry, the smallest things, like appreciating a sunset and enjoying a hot meal, are sometimes the hardest, while the big things, like death and forgiveness, don't seem that tough. And sometimes, he's just an idiot who falls in love too easily.

※ HONOURABLE MENTIONS :

11. Draco Malfoy and the Pride of the Lion by Fantasy_Critter11 [G, 52k]

All his life Draco Malfoy has awaited the day when he'd finally get to ride the Hogwarts Express to the school of Witchcraft and Wizardry, and of his dreams. Those dreams are upended in seconds, however, when he sees a scrawny boy pacing outside of the barrier, asking how to get onto platform nine and three quarters. [...] Hogwarts is quickly becoming nothing like Draco had expected it to be in his dreams, but he'll soon find he may not mind being part of the Gryffindor pride as he initially thought.

12. What Fills the Void That’s Left Behind by @tessacrowley [E, 46k] --- ART by @itsphantasmagoria

At the end of October, Draco Malfoy slashes open both wrists and bleeds to death. By the middle of November, Head Auror Harry Potter agrees to take his case. But there are entities more ghastly than the ghosts that haunt the Malfoy Manor, and fates more horrible than death. When the wound is so deep that you lose a part of yourself, what fills the void that’s left behind?

—

※ Word count: 1k ~ 15k

※ Word count: 15k ~ 40k

All is found by ProseMary [G, 16k]

Come, Sweet Death by EvilDime [E, 27k]

Everything is coming up Draco by @liligalaxy [M, 37k]

Green by @pixiedunhoff [E, 17k]

The Guardian and The Sword by @mykkitno [?, 37k]

It's Not Hate Sex If You're Secretly In Love With Your Baby Daddy! by @peachydreamxx [E, 33k] --- ART by @littlewinnow

the latch is undone by @aibidil [E, 24k]

Old Rivalries, New Beginnings by @philosophersandfools [T, 29k]

Raising Hell! by @wolfpants [E, 21k]

—

Ongoing Fest/Exchange

※ Fics would be listed elsewhere.

2024 H/D Muggle Fair | @hd-fan-fair

Cult of Chaos Cultober 2024

Gothic Fantasy Fest 2024 | @twhos-fests​

HP Halloween Fest 2024

Trick 4 Treat: A Twisted Sweet

[hom3landr]

Homelander has a very merry Christmas

18+

Homelander shakes his head in disbelief as he lounges in his chair at the head of the Seven table. It’s been a year…a whole year since the day you entered his life. He still has the ribbon from that first package, tucked discreetly into his waistband. It’s frayed now and soft from running it through his fingers. He’ll touch his hip softly sometimes, right where he knows it rests, when his ears ring and his eyes begin to burn. Countless lives have been saved just from a little piece of fabric. It was the first gift he’d ever truly been given that didn’t have dozens of corporate strings attached. He wonders if you’ll bring him more candy, now that Christmas is right around the corner. He can still perfectly remember the taste a year later.

But your hands are empty when he sees you, and there’s a nervous stiffness to your shoulders that he’s not sure he enjoys. You’re fiddling with your fingers as you approach. He’s disappointed, he really was looking forward to some candy. But you give him a shy smile and he pushes down the sullenness rising in his chest. You hop up on the table in front of him, a bad habit you’ve picked up ever since that day you brought him the cake. He supposes that’s on him for encouraging you. He ignores the urge to tug you into his lap instead.

“Sooooooo…I don’t have anything for you today but I did want to ask you something.” You look down at your hands before pausing, trying to spark the courage to continue. He tilts his head and waits, somewhat impatient and still annoyed at being denied. He doesn’t like the way you don’t meet his eyes. Surely your fingers can’t be more interesting than him. You take a deep breath.

“IwaswonderingifmaybeyouwantedtocometomyplaceforChristmas?” The words come spilling out uncontrollably and you stiffen up a bit once they’re out, bracing yourself for a denial.

Homelander’s heart stops.

“I know you’re probably really busy and you have plans and other people you’d rather be with.” He doesn’t. “But I was going to make gingerbread and watch some Christmas movies. I don’t have any family close by or…or friends really, so I usually spend Christmas on my own. It won’t be anything fancy but I’ll let you lick the spoon.” You let out an awkward laugh, obviously insecure about the simplicity of your plans. After all, how can your humble apartment compare to Vought’s glitz and finery? How could Homelander be content spending Christmas with a nobody like you?

If you only knew how much the offer wiped away any of the disappointment he felt about the candy. If only you knew how much he’s been longing to join you in the sugar-sweetness of your kitchen. He wants to leap up and take you in his arms. He wants to agree and whisk you away to start the holidays early…and privately. He’s never had a proper Christmas before. Just Vought’s pretty, sterile, fake, holiday bullshit. He found it cruel the way they’d let him watch movies on Christmas when he was in the lab. He still can’t watch A Christmas Story without feeling sick with want. But maybe…maybe this year will finally be different.

But reality sets in. He has the Vought Christmas party. He can’t skip it, as much as he’d love to. He’s been dreading it honestly. She’d always been there before, guiding him, leading him, making sure he got through the event with his shiny grin firmly in place. But that was gone, ended by his own hand. The last fucking bit of Christmas cheer he could have possibly had. He clenches his fist and he watches you shrink back, mistaking his grief for anger at your boldness. He wants to say yes…but he can’t

“We have the company Christmas party, remember? Surely you wouldn’t want to miss that. I get the honor of lighting up the tree” He beams, hoping it assures you that you are not the target of his ire. Sure he’d prefer to be tucked away with you but the party won’t be too bad if you’re there. If you’re there then her absence won’t matter.

But his hopes are quickly dashed.

“Oh I’m not high enough up on the totem pole to be invited, for business or pleasure.” You shrug, clearly not bothered by the corporate snub.

Oh

“Well…I can’t exactly miss it.” Your face falls at his reply and the words tumble out before he can stop them.

“But if you don’t mind staying up a little later, then maybe I can swing by real quick after to grab a cookie or two.” He reaches out to lay a hand warmly on your knee

You return his grin despite the disappointment in your eyes.

“I’ll wait up for you then”

~~~~~~~

It’s late by the time he’s finally released from his shiny decorated prison. He’s sick to death of Frank Sinatra and mistletoe. He barely resisted crushing the hand of every asshole who felt entitled to his attention purely due to the holiday festivities. He gritted his teeth while he was forced to kiss the asses of board members and politicians. He barely avoided lasering A-Train’s head clean off his body when he wrapped his arm around him for a photo op. He’s so overloaded that he’s halfway to his penthouse for some much needed rest when he remembers your offer.

He pulls aside some tipsy asshole for the time, annoyed that no one seems to have remained sober. It’s not long until midnight and he worries that maybe you’ll already have given up waiting. He worries that he’ll get to your apartment to find you already snug and sleeping in your bed. He reminds himself that he can always wake you up. After all, he’s seen you bake until the wee hours of the morning. He remembers when he’d watch you bake till not long before you’d be needing to rise for work. Surely…surely, you haven’t forgotten to wait for him.

The night is frigid as he flies towards your apartment. The cold doesn’t hinder him but it isn’t exactly pleasant as the sharp wind stings his cheeks. He’d always wave away Maeve’s complaints but he reluctantly admits to himself that she had a point about freezing over the Atlantic. Luckily it’s a far shorter path to your apartment building. So he ignores it. The thought of you keeps him warm anyway.

What he can’t ignore is the distinctly human shaped figure waiting on the roof. He knows your form intimately and he’s clocked you the moment he sees you. You’re shivering, wrapped only in an old threadbare bathrobe over some red pajamas. It’s far too cold to be loitering without winter wear and an exasperated concern grows in his chest. Couldn’t you at least have grabbed a jacket? It wouldn’t do for you to catch hyperthermia before he even gets to celebrate Christmas with you. You haven’t seen him yet and he makes sure to land behind you as quietly as he can, lip twitching mischievously.

“Are you cold? You look like you’re freezing” He calls out from the other side of the roof. You leap into the air and stumble a bit too close to the edge for his liking so he rushes to steady you. Even through his gloves he can feel how chilled you are. You look back at him, disbelief on your face but surprised delight in your eyes. You shake in his arms and before his brain consciously makes the decision to, he swiftly detaches his cape to wrap it warmly around your shoulders. Your cheeks heat despite the chill and he’s deeply pleased by the way you look and the way his scent mixes with yours.

“I’m alright. I was waiting for you! I was worried that you wouldn’t be able to make it.” You clasp his cape tighter around you, teeth chattering. He pulls you closer so some of his heat can seep into you. He realizes that you may have been too focused watching for him to realize how chilled you are. He tuts at you, both flattered by your devotion and annoyed that you were so careless with your health.

“Would it have killed you to grab a coat?” He rubs your frozen hands between his gloved ones. Your answering smile is sweet and he’d blush if he could (He can. He did.)

“Are you worried about me?” You tease him lightly, eyes soft.

“I was promised gingerbread. If I’m promised something then I expect it to be delivered” He gives you a stern glare that’s tempered by the slight twitch of his lip as he fights a smile.

“Well, I can’t possibly deny you, can I?” Your lips quirk into a cheeky smirk. Your lighthearted words settle warm and heavy in the pit of his stomach. Suddenly, you feel so beautifully fragile in his grip, a small precious light that he keeps warm between his palms. You’re his. You’re so wonderfully his in this moment and deep within him, so deep he doesn’t even realize it yet, he’s become inescapably, completely, ineffably, yours.

You gesture for him to follow you down the fire escape to your floor. He follows behind as though he doesn’t have the way to your apartment imprinted in his mind. But your legs are stiff from the cold and after you slip slightly on the slick metal of the fire escape, he scoops you into his arms. You cling to him, stunned at the quickness and ease at which he gathered you up against his chest. You’re disoriented and wrap an arm around his neck to steady yourself.

“Don’t drop me!” you squeak and he laughs in response. You’re light as a feather to him and he’s not hindered by you at all. He would never, could never drop you.

“I won’t let you go, ever.” He reassures you and you relax against him, trusting him. You tuck yourself into the crook of his neck, and all of a sudden he has a sharp regret that his collar rises so high on his neck. He longs to feel your softness and your eyelashes brushing against the sensitive skin of his throat. He can’t resist leaning his head against yours as he climbs effortlessly down the thin and rickety steps.

When he reaches your apartment, he assists you in finding your footing and guides you inside. You don’t question how he’s able to navigate your apartment with ease. Stepping into your kitchen is like getting reborn into another life, a life that he had been cruelly denied. You’ve decorated every inch. False snow lines the top of your cabinets and it charms him to see tiny figures and miniature buildings tucked into the fuzzy winter wonderland. Mismatched bowls of ingredients line the counter, and deep red liquid smelling strongly of spice is steaming on the stove. It smells heavenly. It’s the same scent he normally loathes, the artificial scent burning his nose and giving him headaches, one of the few pains that he can experience. But there is nothing faked or imitated here and the rich smell makes his head swim pleasantly. His mouth waters and his jaw aches at the sweet spicy deliciousness in the air. It’s lovely and warm and you immediately shake off the shiver as you enter.

He blinks back sudden tears at the sight of a brightly lit tree twinkling merrily in the corner of the living room, a yule log crackling on the television. It’s perfect. Your tiny crumbling apartment that he would have scoffed at in any other time, is suddenly finer than any palace. His chest tightens almost painfully.

“It’s not much but I did my best to make it festive! The cookie dough is chilling in the fridge and there is as much eggnog and mulled wine as you could want. Help yourself.” You nod at the pot on the stove, hands on your hips, looking as confident as he’s ever seen you now that you’re in your domain. It’s not normally the response he gets when someone sees him in their home. He takes a brief scan of your fridge.

“Just milk for me, thank you.” He responds and you shrug and take a glass out of the cabinet. You fill it up full and hand it over. He takes a big chug. 2%

Perfect

“Well, I’m gonna have myself some mulled wine.” You grab another glass and fill yourself up a healthy serving. A tiny sip has you sighing deeply in pleasure and he wants nothing more than to lick the remnants off your lips. Your temperature is rising by the second and when he’s satisfied that you’re sufficiently warmed he relaxes a bit, wandering around your kitchen to look at everything.

You busy yourself taking a large bowl of dough out of the fridge and lining the counter and a baking sheet with parchment paper and a light dusting of flour. He’s distracted looking through all your cabinets. Nothing of yours is very fancy and it’s all a bit mismatched which he finds charming in a quaint kind of way. He rifles through your dish towels, smelling them to see if your scent still lingers. Then you tap him on the shoulder. He turns to find you with your head cocked and your arms wrapped around a large bowl, eyes shining and bright

“I promised gingerbread but first you have to help.” You wink at his baffled expression before turning around to begin scooping out the dough onto the parchment paper. “And take off your gloves! This stuff can get sticky.”

He’s still standing there frozen when you hand him a rolling pin. He frowns at it disdainfully before raising a skeptical eyebrow. This is so…beneath him.

“C’mon, let your inner kid out a little. I promise it tastes better when you’ve helped make it.” You shake the rolling pin at him.

Inner kid

You don’t have a single fucking clue.

He grumpily removes his gloves. He feels naked without them. He feels so raw, the Christmas cheer welcome but also a painful reminder of everything he was denied. He wants to be here but he feels unsure how to exist in a space when there are no expectations, no predetermined role he can play. Shedding the gloves feels like shedding a layer of skin but he can’t deny you when you look at him like that. You’re still wearing his cape around his shoulders and a sharp possessive pang runs through him.

His

He reaches out to grab the rolling pin.

“Normally people avoid giving me heavy blunt objects” He remarks dryly, although he quickly regrets it. It doesn’t seem to phase you though. You’ve heard the stories.

“You are a heavy blunt object capable of plenty of damage so I don’t think handing you a rolling pin is going to make much difference. Now get to work while I preheat the oven” You reach out to gently push him towards the dough.

He stares at it, frozen.

The dings from the oven ring in his ears.

It’s not that he doesn’t know what to do. The mechanics of a rolling pin are not difficult to fucking grasp. It’s just…none of this feels real. It feels like he’s still back in this lab and this is some cruel dream that will fade away into empty white. It’s like making one wrong move will shatter everything

He can’t lose this.

“Here! The recipe says ⅛ of an inch so you’ll need to roll it like this.” Your breath is hot on his ear as you lean in behind him.

Your hands rest tenderly on top of his as you gently guide him.

fuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuck

Your touch burns and a ravenous monster wakes in his chest. It howls and wails against the prison of his ribcage. He can smell you, hear your heart racing, practically taste the heavy scent of your soaking cunt into the air. The wood creaks under his grip as your thumb brushes against his. His cock is hard and leaking into the tight spandex of his pants. The ribbon on his hip is like a brand; like your hands are on him there too.

Fuck the cookies

The throb of his cock urges him to devour your brown sugar pussy instead.

But as strong as the sudden rush of his arousal, it pales in comparison to the prickling sting of tears at such a kind touch. The last person to touch him like this was…

Fake

Just like everything else

Except you

Except this.

A quiet sob escapes him but if you notice then you don’t acknowledge it. You just keep pushing your palms against his hands in a steady rhythm, the dough easily giving way. Your body rocks against his and the softness of you warms him to the core. He sees the flutter of his own cape out of the corner of his eye.

His

You’re his.

The whole world narrows down to only the two of you.

He could stay here forever with you. Life with you could be like Christmas for eternity. He’d never be alone. You’d never be alone. Just gingerbread scented air and mulled wine, and your body pressed to his forever.

“Alrighty! That just about does it. We just need to get out the cookie cutters and we’ll be good to go.” You pull back.

Something inside him snaps and he turns and grabs your shoulder, tugging you into him. You blink owlishly at him. He opens his mouth but nothing comes out. He reaches out to caress your cheek, relishing the warmth against his bare hand. You lay your hand over his although you make no move to pull away.

“I…” His breath catches.

“Can I kiss you?” You ask breathlessly

You don’t wait for an answer before shyly pressing your lips to his. It lasts barely a second before you're pulling back with a smug little smile. You point up and he barks out an incredulous laugh.

Mistletoe

A sprig of fucking mistletoe is attached to the ceiling.

“I thought you always spent Christmas alone.” He remarks, lips still burning. He’s dreaming. He’s…this can’t be real.

You chuckle.

“I’m not alone this year.” You respond before giving him another sweet kiss that he eagerly returns.

You taste exactly like brown sugar.

He giggles into the press of your lips

Merry fucking Christmas.

[reccyls]

hi!! sorry to ask, but what are mai’s symptoms in mitsuhide’s sequel?? like how would the tragic end play out? thank you!

Hello! Please don't apologize for asking, I'm happy to answer questions! (If I do know the answer, of course). I'll put the details beneath the cut, I've actually finished the tragic end as well

Mai's symptoms here are that she sometimes fades out of existence. She becomes invisible to others, they can't hear her voice, and she passes through the people she touches. It starts off as just a few seconds, brief enough that other people think it's a trick of the light, or maybe they're too exhausted. But eventually it becomes nearly permanent.

There is a way to check for Mai's presence, however: the ringing of a bell. It was something that belonged to her in the modern day, and she gave it to Mitsuhide to repair. When he gives it back to her, it is now something that belongs to both the past and the future, so the universe can't erase it since it "belongs" to the past. Therefore, Mai always brings the bell with her and rings it to make her presence known.

The original speculation regarding the cause of Mai's symptoms were her actions to save Nobunaga from the Honno-ji incident. However, it's later theorized by Sasuke that it's not Mai saving Nobunaga's life that caused the timeline warps: it's actually her saving Mitsuhide. Not just once (he should have died after Honno-ji as well) but twice (during Yoshiaki's trap). Therefore, the guidebook pages going blank (and eventually Mitsuhide's name specifically also disappearing from the guidebook) are the unvierse trying to correct this by causing Mai to disappear, thus making history go back on the right track.

This was said in confidence to Mai. However, Mitsuhide happened to overhear this. Now, Kicho and Motonari haven't been sitting their idly either. So Mitsuhide figures he'll kill two birds with one stone: he leaves the Oda forces and begins raising a third army on his own, to draw strength away from Kicho and Motonari. He is planning to go into battle against the Oda forces and lose, cementing Nobunaga's continued rule, and also dying to erase himself from the timeline to stop Mai's symptoms.

(Note that earlier in the route, Mai had almost run away silently from the Oda to try and avert this: maybe if she wasn't around to influence Nobunaga or Mitsuhide anymore, the symptoms would stop getting worse and Mitsuhide wouldn't be driven to drastic measures to try and stop them. Masamune is the one who catches her and helps to convince her to stay. Masamune is also the one who confronted Mitsuhide after he declared his intention to leave; he calls the two of them "a matched pair" given that their immediate first thought is to do some sort of self-sacrificial stunt to save the other.)

In the tragic ending, Mai figures out Mitsuhide's second aim during a war council with the others. She absolutely does not want Mitsuhide to do this, and so, she silently leaves the war council and decides to go through with her original plan. She writes a farewell letter for everyone and then vanishes without a trace. The letter is discovered the next day by Ranmaru, who realizes what Mai has done and informs the others.

The tragic ending then skips ahead a few months, to a final confrontation between the Oda, and Mitsuhide's rebel army. Mitsuhide is soundly defeated, and he comes face to face with his old comrades for the first time in a long time. However, all Nobunaga does is to give him a letter: the one that Mai wrote before she disappeared.

Here is where I clearly remember the language used in the text, it was that evocative: after reading the letter, Mitsuhide fell to his knees "as if his soul had left his body"; everything he had done, all for nothing because Mai was gone.

As penance for his betrayal, Nobunaga gives Mitsuhide a mission: find Mai. No one believes that she has truly disappeared forever.

The last scene of the tragic end is another timeskip, this time a year or perhaps more later. Mitsuhide is wandering the country, constantly searching for any trace of Mai. Earlier in the route, there was a discussion about how Mitsuhide's life was a road that led to hell. He muses to himself how hoping against hope is a kind of hell in itself, but one that he willingly walks into, because he must believe that Mai still exists, and that he can find her.

And we end with the sound of a ringing bell, carried by the wind. One more chime, this time fainter. Mitsuhide smiles and asks if she is playing tag with him. But regardless, he gets up, and follows the sound, because he would follow her anywhere, even to the depths of hell.

[sillyuin]

Hiiii 🤍🤍🤍 I’ve been reading all your posts and I love your writing, especially as a fellow Dokyeom bias 😭 Thank you for all your work! I was wondering if I could request one for all my healthcare/doctor girlies out there, like if SVT had a doctor girlfriend with random little scenarios like showing up the hospital with a surprise bento or princess carrying them when they come home or using them to practice doing examinations on when they’re all dorky dpwiwidbckdoeo omg hahahaha I’m squealingggg if not don’t worry~~~

Hi there! First of all, thanks for reading and you kind words, it is very much appreciated (⁠ ⁠ꈍ⁠ᴗ⁠ꈍ⁠) Sorry for taking so much time but better late than never. Hope you enjoy it! At first I was struggling but ended up loving to write this 😭🩷🩵

Svt dating healthcare professionals

Warnings: I know little to nothing about this professions so it may feel a little flat. Tried to cover various disciplines, there's mention of mental health ahead. Use of cursing words (just once). One is... a little suggestive??

Seungcheol. Once, you finished your shift very, very late and called a taxi to take you home, just to find a sleepy and low-key upset Cheol waiting for you in the living room. “Why didn’t you call me, babe?” he said with such a loving tone that it was you who needed a doctor to check on your heartbeat and blood pressure. Since then, you call Cheol when you’re getting off work, no matter how late it is or if it’s raining cats and dogs, he is willing to drive through the city and pick you up just to make sure that you’re at home and safe. Sometimes you tell him that maybe is being a little over-protective, but he just pretends that’s not listening to you (Is time to accept that his caring side is a card with no expiration date).

Jeonghan. We all know how of a trickster he can be. Jeonghan likes to hide your work tools because is really funny glancing at you, acting so lost, running through the apartment while he’s just minding his own business. “Hanni, have you seen my folder?” you ask him with pleading eyes, “I mistakenly took a patient's tests, and they called me because they need them”. He smirks at you, getting closer as you notice that this is definitely one of his plans. “That will cost you a tiny little kiss”. You deadpan at him but you don’t have much time to waste, so you “pay” the ransom and he returns the object ASAP, not without grinning at your slightly reddish cheeks.

Joshua. When you started your shifts as a nurse, your sleeping schedule became a mess, as well as your meals, sometimes eating just anything or just skipping it. That became a problem for you and for Joshua, he couldn’t just sit and do nothing. He started cooking whenever you need it, so that you could eat properly and stay healthy, even if that means showing up at your work despite his busy schedule or going to sleep later because he was preparing something in advance. Sometimes it seems like he's overdoing it but once you sit down to eat the lunch he gave you, all you can do is giggle in joy and be grateful to have such a caring (and amazing chef) partner.

Jun. Taking care of others' mental health is a big responsibility and you take it as seriously as it is, but sometimes it can be very challenging. When those days show up you come home feeling drained, and the only thing that can save the night is cuddles, and Jun is an expert in the field. There’s no talking or any sound from any device, it's just the two of you on the couch holding close to each other as if it is your one and only chance to do so. His gentle touch, his hands caressing your back and his gentle kisses tickling your face… There's nothing like a healing session of skinship with Jun to give you that extra dopamine you needed.

Hoshi. Being apart for so many hours (even days) from Soonyoung it’s a pain, but your job is important and you need to stay focused, always expecting what might come through the door. During a spare time, you check your phone just to find some messages from him in your inbox. “How you doing, my love? Just passing by to say I love you” “I miss you so much!! Can’t wait for you to come home” “Let's go somewhere nice when you get off work, I’ll pick you up!” and when you call him during break… oh, Soonyoung sounds so happy! Like you can tell he’s smiling. You both put your hearts and passion in everything, but those little moments to check on each other are priceless.

Wonwoo. He’s not the best cooker, we all know this, but that’s not an excuse to don’t eat properly and you, an expert of nutrition, will not ignore that even if it means to spend a little more of money or waking up early in the morning to make the lunch and leave it ready before going to work. The only problem with this is that sometimes you come home being really sleepy, taking little naps before evening. It’s so hard for Wonwoo to wake you up when he’s home so the dinner is up to him. “Good morning, sleeping beauty” he says with a teasing tone, it’s around eight and you just woke up to find him in the kitchen, a pleasant smell filling the room. “Are you… Cooking? By yourself?” Wonwoo chuckles as he invites you with a hand gesture to join him. “You’re so attentive with my meals, so I wanted to cook for you this time. Thanks for your hard work, my love”.

Woozi. He loves listening to everything that happens during your shift, it doesn’t matter if your day was quiet or wild like no other, just being there around you is a bliss. So he couldn’t ignore when you said how much you crave a snack during the afternoon. “It’s sooo boring I almost fell asleep. Maybe something sweet will do something with my lack of energy” it was so casual you probably have forgotten about it. However, from that day on, a package of your favorite snacks appears as if by magic in your bag. Woozi doesn’t say a word about this, his love is quiet but sweet, as much as the gummies you ate happily during the snack time.

Minghao. After a long day at the hospital, running around with little to nothing of rest, your entire body feels as heavy as stones. When you put your pajamas on, all you can think about is sleeping like a bear during winter, and when you enter the room, Minghao is sitting at the edge of the bed. “You must be tired” he says with an attentive smile, his hand patting the bed, “let me give you a massage”. The feeling of his hands in your bare skin, pressing your stiff muscles is the closest to heaven on earth, and the pain starts to slowly disappear. From time to time you let out a soft groan, making Hao stop as he apologizes a little embarrassed. “Sorry, darling” he whispers in your ear and pecks your shoulder. But you’re too relaxed to even care and before Hao is done, you've already fallen asleep, and he feels accomplished. “Good night, y/n”.

Dokyeom. Even when he's away from you, Dokyeom wants you to never forget that no matter what, he's always supporting you and his methods can be a little… Unexpected. So one day he left a little note in your pocket with heartfelt words, and it was so heartwarming that you couldn't help but keep it in your wallet as a lucky charm, later that night you thanked him for such a cute detail. Since then, it is not uncommon for you to find little notes in your folders, the pockets of your uniform and even inside your makeup bag, all of them written by his own hand and with the cheesiest encouragement words on earth. “You can do it! There’s nothing my baby couldn’t manage” “Wash your hands, drink water and remember, I love you” “Have a day as beautiful as you”.

Mingyu. Is late at night and the next morning you’re going to give a talk, they’re freshman students so you’re nervous about it. “What if they make questions and I freeze?” you said, as Mingyu listens carefully. “Practice with me, pretend I'm a student”. It’s way too obvious what his true intentions are but you decide to just play dumb and start to rehearse your words. Everything is going as expected despite the fear of failing, you know how to use every little tool and give proper answers to the questions he makes. In the end it wasn’t that difficult, so you sigh with relief and Mingyu feels like the proudest man in the world. “Now” you hesitate to speak at first, but ended up the phrase “I-I must give you a physical exam”. He smirks at you, raising an eyebrow. “Should I take off my shirt?” you deadpan as he shrugs. “No, shit! Why are you always like that?!”

Seungkwan. His biggest love language towards you is paying attention to your physical health because he knows for sure that you tend to forget about it. And when I mean he pays attention, is for real. From subtle things like filling your bottle with water or keeping packs of face masks within reach, to just step in front of you and be as straight as possible. “Be careful, I don't want you to get sick” his voice lovely and tender, so much it makes your heart ache; Seungkwan doesn’t realize how cute you find him when he flips his serious card. “Don’t laugh at me! I’m really worried about you!”

Vernon. When you started dating Vernon was kinda eager to know more about your profession as a dentist, making an effort to follow your advice and take better care of his teeth. “This one” you say, taking a toothpaste from the supermarket shelf “A colleague said that this brand is the best”. Vernon just stared at the shelf, his eyes wandering on the small boxes of toothpaste as he softly squeezes your hand. “Babe, would you fall harder for me if I had a brighter smile?” you both remain silent, followed by a muffled laughter coming from him. “Let’s buy this one then, just for trying”.

Dino. Is evening and you’ve been cleaning the entire day, washing all the tools at the clinical laboratory, keeping the place neat and tidy and basically, doing the best you can as a laboratory assistant. But some days feel so, so heavy; all you want to do is just relax on the couch and do nothing else. For your luck, at home there’s a very diligent Dino that already did the chores so all you have to do is one simple task: Take a shower, put on some comfortable clothes and spend the rest of the night melting into Dino’s warm embrace, while he makes you laugh with the occurrences of his day.

[violetrainbow412-blog]

Day 1: first kiss

Masterlist flufftober 🎀

Reblog if you liked it!

You were walking along the inside of the sidewalk, enjoying the story that your friend was telling you animatedly, while both of you headed to your apartment.

You had been dating a few weeks with Dr. Spencer Reid, whom you had met at your book club. He was the only man attending and although the old women were completely sweet with him, they were no competition for you, who had liked you from the first glance. He had invited you on a date with the excuse of talking a little more about the last book you had read and when you were alone with him you ended up seeing how charming he was. That allowed you to ask for a new date and so you continued to see each other frequently, when Spencer's work allowed it.

He was a gentleman with you and although it was obvious that you liked each other, he had been too cautious to make any move beyond taking you to nice places and buying you flowers.

“If I'm overwhelming you, you can tell me,” he laughed, a little embarrassed that he had been talking for most of the way.

“I really like hearing you talk. You always have something good to say.”

You were very close to your apartment and both of you slowed down considerably, as if you weren't ready to separate yet. You had been walking with your hands in the pockets of your coat to keep yourself protected from the autumn cold that was already beginning to set in, wishing that it was his hands that kept yours warm.

“Sometimes I feel like I'm still not used to it”

"To what?"

“To be with someone as kind as you,” he confessed to you, smiling slightly “You are literally the nicest person I know.”

“That's not true, I have a lot of bad things,” you tried to excuse yourself, even though it was totally true, hoping that he wouldn't start idealizing you as something you weren't.

“We all have them, that's true. But it is also true that you are gentle and good” he added. Spencer was so mature and so gorgeous that you doubted there was a man like him on earth and even with the short time you had been dating you believed he was good boyfriend material. Excellent boyfriend material, to tell the truth.

“You're going to the club this month, right?”

“I'll try,” he replied, when both of you were in front of your building. “You know, work…”

“This month I have to bring the snacks. And I was thinking about preparing something you like, if you want” you murmured shyly.

Your cooking skills were something you prided yourself on and you wanted to show him that you too were talented, just like he was with almost everything. Spencer smiled at the idea and gave you a list of suggestions, which you excitedly wrote down in your mind.

You didn't want to enter your house, but your excuses to keep him longer had run out and you even felt a little selfish for wanting even more from him after spending almost the entire afternoon together. But it was inevitable to want his company.

“We'll see you soon, okay?” he promised you, bending down a little to wrap you in a goodbye hug “I will try my best to be free on the day of the meeting.”

“No pressure, I'll save you some snacks and we can eat them at my apartment later,” you suggested, venturing to plan a date at a more intimate place that you two hadn't climbed to yet.

Spencer smiled from her spot and you knew that this was the final goodbye, although neither of you were very happy.

“Good night, Y/N.”

You responded in the same way and then you saw him start walking down the sidewalk, but this time you didn't go straight in like you did before. You weren't going to waste your chance, nor the pang of bravery that seemed to have hit you.

“Spencer! I think you're forgetting something," you exclaimed, loud enough to stop him and make him retrace his steps to look at you with a confused expression.

"What is it?"

“This” quickly and without leaving room for complaints, you pulled him by his tie until he was close to you and planted a chaste kiss on his lips, which were slightly stained with lipstick that matched the man's cheeks “You can go, rest”

“Huh… you too”

It was obvious that you had taken him by surprise, but it had been worth it just to see him in that state, trying to hide the emotion that the caress had given him and keeping his gaze on your mouth probably debating whether he should kiss you again or not.

This time you did walk in the direction of the entrance, but he was the one who didn't move, still processing what had just happened. You waved your hand from the door to say goodbye and he waved back, smiling tenderly at you. You'd like to say you didn't spy on him as you walked up the stairs, but that would be a lie, and so would saying you didn't see his excited little dance when he thought he was out of sight.

Although very brief, it was the best first kiss you had ever had in your life.

taglist: @navs-bhat @reidwritings @tricia-shifting14 @spencerslove

[knnichs]

i love you in the worst way

his work was not what kept him up–tossing and turning on his bed. it was you.

c. goro akechi, gn!reader

t. mentions of shido (i hate him,) major p5r/p5 spoilers, slight implications of suicide (very plot heavy, but vague,) yearning who cheered, not beta read

reupload once more… second part of the first akechi fic, as always original notes are at the end & you can find the og ao3 link here!!

The dimly lit apartment had a comforting emptiness to it, regardless of what everyone says about loneliness. Akechi always found himself missing its familiar quiet, akin to a park with the occasional muffled voices of others. He would sit under the bridge if no one was there, maybe near the lake–or alone on the bench, watching as the birds fly free across the blue sky. Work as a detective would mean socializing with others, even if it meant becoming a little fake towards them. But he chose this line of work, he knew what he was getting into the moment he and Shido had struck a deal. 

Nevertheless, he felt a little sick that night. Somehow dreading coming back home. Maybe it was the insomnia, maybe the lack of a companion–a true one–the entire day. As much as he loved working with Sae, they can get into some heated arguments sometimes and Akechi didn’t need that on his already overfilled plate. It wasn't that, however, that was not what kept him up–tossing and turning on his bed.

It was you. 

If he was being honest, he didn’t think he would ever fall in love. In a romantic sense anyway–with his grand death on step 30 of his revenge plan against Shido (that damned politician) and if everything went well, his poisonous blood would forever stain that man. With patience wearing thin, he wouldn’t dare do anything aside from preparing for the last chapter, the finale, of the famed detective prince.

He sighs, exhausted from the entire day and everyone in general. If he was going to be honest, meeting up with you was the one thing he was looking forward to. But of course, his fans just had to ruin the moment. He’s half thankful, somehow, if he’d stay any longer–his heart would’ve lept out of his chest and taken control of his brain, leaving nothing unsaid.

Just how nice would that be? Seeing the expression on your face as he says things you would’ve never thought the detective prince would say. Three words, spoken in hushed whispers, mumbling too quick that you wouldn’t even be able to understand it immediately. 

I love you, and the words are on the tip of his tongue everytime he sees you.

If you were to ask him, that's exactly what he hates the most. Not the feeling of being a dead man in a body somehow still full of life, or the metallic taste of blood in his mouth after he bit his cheek trying to restrain himself from saying things he would later regret. He would act as if the vision of the white curtains blowing in the wind from an open window and the sun just–shining on your face, a single moment of calm in his lifetime of chaos and fighting. Oh, you would look so beautiful. You would wake up smiling–at him, of all people. It would reach your eyes, an expression of pure joy, and it would forever be etched into his memory. 

To him, it’s like lyrics to a song he’s listened to one too many times. He keeps repeating the same things to himself, words he could only wish to tell you–because it’s you, it’s you who his heart yearns for. It’s you who causes the inner meltdowns because his heart is beating way too fast and his breathing is uneven when he sees you, only hoping that you could somehow pick up on the signs and tell him the same things back. 

A backyard, hanging up the clothes with you underneath the early morning sun. Running across hills filled to the brim with flowers. Traveling country to country, making lunch at the airbnb you two stayed at to save money. The laughs, the smiles–no. He’d be driving himself insane going down that rabbit hole. There will always be that voice in his head that tells him it’s wrong, and truth be told, he’s getting sick of it.

Fine then. So be it, he has other things to worry about anyway. 

The boy rolls over the bed, lazily reaching for the phone he put on the desk drawer and turning it on. 2:03 am, that would mean he had spent the last two hours thinking about you since he got home. 

Tomorrow, he’d whisper to himself. Interview at 10 am, attend as many classes until lunch break–go to the station and help Sae with the cases, investigate for Akira. And a beat of silence in his mind before a familiar name shows up; capture the leader of the Thieves, kill Shido. His plate was already overfilled, and it didn't take long for him to realize that he had to fit you somewhere on his schedule too. What was he even worrying about anyway? There’s a busy week ahead of him and you would understand the distance, more than anyone for that matter.

So, why does he feel guilty? His chest feels tight, this is wrong. You’ve done so much for him and yet–you let him treat you like this? You know everything about each other, you know him better than he knows himself…

That part was a lie. As far as he knows, you only know of his past–but not as the culprit of the mental shutdown cases. You know him from the princely “good boy” ace detective Akechi, he’s done a good job at covering everything up and you–you’re just…

It’s frustrating for him, it really is. He knows you see right through him, you’re the only one who asks how he’s doing after all. You know something’s up, you’ve been with him long enough for it to become an instinct to you. And it's most definitely affecting his plan that he’s developed for years–you were ruining it. 

3:14 am.

He’s still awake. Wondering about the choices he’s made for it to lead up to this… Nonsense. He doesn’t understand why you make him feel this way, he doesn’t know why you choose to care about some worthless child. It’s almost like he’s your greatest wish and to him it's foolish. Who would want someone like him? A murderer, some fraud persona built for the tv, a child who was never loved by their own parents–a curse. 

He’ll have to blow off some steam in that metaverse later, but now, he needs to get rest for the long day tomorrow. 

Slowly, he reaches for his phone. Turning it on only to be blinded by the light–despite it being on the lowest brightness setting–and he stops for a bit to get adjusted to it. He scrolls down to your contact, swipes right, and removes you. 

That was all it took for him to completely forget about the yearning he had just felt, a swipe of the finger, and you were–as he thought–gone.

hi.. im back :pray: heres a part 2 to the last work i made about akechi (message in a bottle) part 3 will be the very last, finally. Valentines (teehee) this is set in the same day as when he left immediately in the restaurant, so !!! yeah thats all okay goodbye :heart: thats all, see u all again next month if i ever come around to finishing part 3 ^^

[oncewhenalongtimeago]

Always an Angel, Never the God Full

Hiccup Horrendous Haddock III x Runaway!Reader

Words: 13,104

Your plans to run away with Hiccup fall through. Three years later, you finally make it off Berk and away from the Edge. Here are the years that follow.

Tags: SUGGESTIVE ENDING, Runaway Reader, Angst, bitter reader, unrequited love, requited love, healing, conflicting emotions, compiles parts 1, 2, 3, 4, and 5

<Previous

You waited for hours, back aching against the flat rock, basket of your few chosen belongings hidden behind a small outcropping of rock as you waited for him, increasingly more worried as the sun began to set.

Scared, even. You’d seen the axe, laid plainly on the ground. You feared the worst, especially after your frantic search bore no fruit. That he’d been found, and that something terrible had happened to him.

 But Hiccup was fine, with Astrid, this whole time.

Even Toothless seemed to like her well enough. He didn’t like you, glaring and snapping at you when you got too close, despite all of your efforts to get on his good side. He barely let you on, and he certainly wouldn’t without Hiccup. You had the sneaking suspicion he’d buck if you tried it on your lonesome. 

While you understood, it hurt that even as close friends he’d not told you about Toothless at all, at first. You doubt he would’ve if he’d not seen you do so poorly at dragon training. He probably felt terrible, watching you fail over and over again when he could be doing something to help.

You hugged your knees tightly, hidden behind rock and moss, fighting not to make a sound as you peered around a corner, barely listening in as they conversed.

Even if he never inherited the chiefdom, It was still a heavy expectation that he’d marry. You two were an inevitable couple, if not because of love, out of a bond of solidarity. It’s not like either of you had any suitors. You were friends first, of course, but privately you hadn’t had a problem with that. You got along well, and you could see a future with him where you were both alright.

And you really, really liked him.

You knew he wanted someone else, someone who was confident, capable, who had good standing, who his father could be proud of. Someone who was more gorgeous than plain, someone like Astrid.

You weren’t the best viking, you couldn’t work in the forge, you hadn’t a lot of lucrative talents at all and a measure of clumsiness and troublemaking that could rival Hiccup’s own.

But you were friends, and that had to count for something.

He came to you with his plan to run away. You were running away together, you thought.

But somehow, she was here, and he left with her. He liked her. You knew that. And, you realized with mounting horror as she leaned in closer to him, she liked him too. 

You knew you’d never had a chance, but knowing it is different from experiencing it. You had not a chance in the world.

You could never fault him for that.

You couldn’t stop the tears from pooling in your eyes, or the tiny bits of your heart from splitting apart and scattering across the grass.

Conversely, he didn’t tell you when he flew off to battle with the rest of your peers. The whole thing with the Red Death? You missed it completely. You only found out later after Hiccup had been towed back to Berk on death's door.

Constantly spilling his heart out to you but saving the rest of it for the other teens, the ones who used to jeer at him from the sidelines, who all of the sudden began to treat him well, but still jeered at you while he wasn’t looking. 

A hangers-on to their group, not very useful or funny, just there, always. Not spoken with or talked to or considered at all by anyone who wasn’t Hiccup. Just there.

Your companionship had, for lack of a better word, remained the same, except now there was an undercurrent of something under the surface of a black ocean, broiling and writhing like an angry serpent.

Sometimes it felt like a sick corruption of the friendship you and Hiccup used to have, made up of long held hardship and what you had thought were good times. Sometimes it was better than it was before, and you could joke and laugh and play games the same way you had as children. 

And sometimes it felt like you were speaking to a stranger, one you weren’t sure you’d ever known at all; sometimes his mannerisms, his ticks and even the way he stood were alien to you.

You weren’t even sure you recognized who he was anymore. You never asked why, afraid of the answer you might find.

“So, I’m hoping that if I place a spring there, when I pull the lever it wont catch so violently. The gear system around the side is to help turn the barrel while you’re aiming. Got it? What do you think?”

You nodded, eyeing the vast array of blueprints and open journals spread sideways in between the two of you. Brown leather met leather as Hiccup rubbed his shoulder, no doubt a result of a hard fall he’d taken earlier on Toothless.

“Yeah, I got it,” You say casually, “What about the wheels? If you’re going to be pulling it over grass, you might need to cover the space between the wheels and gears, because the plants might catch and pull up into the gear system.”

It feels fake. Slimy to say, like a lie, except you know it’s not. It feels like a product of something more larger and uglier.

Hiccup picks up a yellowed paper, scrutinizing his own design, “Yeah… Actually, you’re right. I don’t know If- maybe if I shift the base… Yeah, I think that would work. Thank you.”

“No problem,” You puff, blowing a strand of hair out of your face.

“Also, I’ve been meaning to ask,” Hiccup shifted in his seat, clenching and unclenching his fingers, a nervous tick he’d had since the two of you were little, “Your dragon. Have you picked a name for it yet?”

“Ah, no,” You sigh, looking down at your knees, “Honestly, I haven’t been able to find something he likes.”

The picky bastard./Picky beast.

Hiccup had helped you find a dragon before the lot of you had moved, a smallish nadder who still didn’t feel much like your own, but served you just as well as any other would and you did teh best to serve it fine as well. He turned out to have just as much propensity for social upset around the other dragons and seemed to get along with Stormfly, Toothless and no one else.

Speaking of, the black dragon, Toothless, had warmed up to you, and in the end you became no better or worse than anyone else on Berk to him, which you were okay with for the most part.

The others had gotten used to you, though remained relatively detached. Conversations wouldn’t stop nor would people give you the look once you entered a room. You didn’t try to strike up conversation anymore, learning that it was better to be silent than awkward. 

It still did nothing to soothe the hurt, or all of the years you’d spent hurting, or any of the time now you spent on your lonesome.

“If you don’t mind, I can-...” Hiccup leans back, the both of you turning heads as your door creaked open, heavy boots moving across the threshold of your home, wood floors creaking. 

You gave Astrid a nod of acknowledgement as she approached your table and she tilted her head, glancing in your direction.

“Hiccup,” Astrid called, “Are we still flying tonight?”

“Astrid,” Hiccup greeted as he stood up, a soft smile stretching half the length of his face as he gathered his assets, leaving a few papers scattered across the top that he knew he could come pick up later as he usually did, “Yeah, let me get my things first.”

You tuned them out as they began speaking in earnest, leaning back to stare at the ceiling, fingers tapping against your elbows almost antsily as they slowly took their leave.

“Hey,” Hiccup looks back at you as your heart beats rapidly in your chest, “I’ll see you later, right?”

“Right,” You say nearly at a mumble, refusing to look him in the eye, your stomach rolling guiltily as the door shuts behind him, “I’ll see you later.”

Your foot nudged the pack you’d prepared out from under the table in the small, shoddy hut you’d managed on the Edge, slinging it over your shoulder as you watched Hiccup and Astrid take off on their dragons through a crack in your window shutters.

He may have found his happiness with the others but you had not, and you fully intended to leave, the same way he’d planned it all those years ago. 

You knew what you were doing was wrong. Not saying goodbye, just up and leaving in the middle of the night without telling anyone, but you just couldn’t bring yourself to say it.

What would you be leaving behind, anyways? You didn’t have much.

You waited until they were just a small speck in the distance before running out on your own, a pack slung up over your shoulders. The dragon, who you’d parked just behind your hut and who’d spent the past few hours almost patiently waiting for you as you’d spent your sudden and unexpected last few hours with Hiccup, stood to its feet and chirruped as you hoisted yourself up onto its saddle.

Fishlegs was busy in his hut. The twins and Snotlout, maybe they’d notice you leaving but you didn’t have much faith in them asking why or feeling much at all besides a vague expectation that you’d be back later. Everyone went out for a leisure flight every once in a while, it was just about time you’d finally taken yours, after all.

Hiccup and Astrid wouldn’t be back till late doing who knows what. You bit your lip, lightly tapping your Nadder’s side with your heel, signaling for him to take off in the opposite direction, shoving down a deep spike of jealousy at the thought. He was your friend first, and soon he would be nothing to you and it wouldn’t matter at all anymore.

You weren’t sure where exactly you were going. But you knew wherever it was, it would be good as long as it was as far, far away from here as possible.

You grind your teeth, eyes tearing up as a heavy booted foot pushes you down further into the wooden ship floor. The ship rocks angrily as does your dragon, struggling against the barbed netting.

“Who are you? A new vigilante?” The leading trapper, Erik son of Erik or something, asked, bending down above you. He had, coincidentally, been the one to shoot you down.

 “Where is your… hideout?” He leaned down into your ear at your silence, speaking in a raspy whisper. You got the vague impression he was trying to be intimidating, though the end results were more in favor of making you blush.

You were thankful for the hard wood covering your face and, therefore, your embarrassment. Of your belongings, you were only able to manage a mask and had taken to running around ensconced in furs with nothing but a dagger to your name. 

You’d recon you looked much like a wild animal, straddling your nadder bare of a saddle. You had not done too well on your own. It was hard. You had always been a team player if by team player you meant a leech on society. At least, you had been told so.

So of course you had, unwittingly, stumbled onto dragon trapping territory. Extreme sport dragon trapping territory. It didn’t help that you and your nadder hadn’t been on the same page, you two being unable to sync in the way you’d seen the other riders with their dragons, which left a bitter taste in your mouth.

He’d go left when you were trying for right, and when you finally decided to just go with it, he would change his mind and throw you for a complete loop. It was safe to say that even if you got out of this mess you never wanted to step foot on his back again.

You breathed a silent sigh of relief just as the trapper let out an annoyed one, stepping off of you in favor of yelling at his men for damaging their goods. Meaning, your nadder. Was he really yours, though? He did try and make a break for it without you.

 While debating whether or not you should try at the ropes shackling your arms together, you grunt frustratedly, noticing a new tear in your garb.

After running away and getting captured, you had not expected to be kidnapped again by some insane-looking madman in a mask. Though you did look like two of a kind, so it was fitting. 

Your nadder had its wings torn irreparably, so, unfortunately, you had to retire him early.

You found small comfort in that it hadn’t abandoned you on the ship that one final time, though the irony that it had led you here was not lost on you.

He visited sometimes. He took to life in the sanctuary very well. 

You didn’t, a borderline prisoner before you’d been able to win over the trust of the resident feral gorgon. Sort of. She was a woman who let you see her face, more on accident than anything else. You hadn’t let her see you or hear yours. However you weren’t inclined to speak of her nicely, least of all in your head, after the number of weeks you spent trapped in a cave at her behest.

Finally, you’d been let out. Let out enough to walk more than just the short stretch of stone and greenish ice that made up your prison. The endless turquoise was beginning to make you sick.

Recently, you found a real friend in the sanctuary, and this dragon, it was truly yours. Affectionately named, fed and groomed, you two were almost inseparable. It was the kind of friendship with a dragon you’d completely missed out on on Berk.

It was hard to maintain given your captive status, but that was alright. 

There probably wasn’t any social profit involved in being a vigilante, which is why you assumed the crazy dragon lady had taken to speaking at you in her spare time. About the dragons, what they ate, what she had to do. Pointedly she gave away nothing of their true secrets, not that you wanted them, nor anything of her vigilant-ing. Not verbally, though the influx of injuries both on her and the dragons spoke volumes.

She did give away her name.

You groan, rubbing your eyes under your mask as you cradle the thing to your face with the other.

“You’re quite attached to your mask,” Valka said amusedly, shifting the logs roasting in the fire with a stick, pushing them back and forth as you sat in silence. You hardly ever spoke a word, nowadays.

Her dragon, the stormcutter, stared at you with large eyes through the licking flames.

Neither of you mentioned that the only real reason you’d been able to keep your mask so long was that she’d been kind enough to let you. An allowance you’d been given on a whim. One you clung to with all the nervous energy of Fishlegs to his dragon cards.

“... I’d rather not be,” You grumble, voice raspy from disuse, “It’s stuffy.”

“Oh,” Valka looked at you, amused and maybe a little surprised to hear you speak at last, before going back to tend to her fires, “I was starting to think you couldn’t speak.”

“Funny.” You said, lifting a sharpened stick off the ground, spearing it through a slimy, gutted fish from the basket beside you. Your nose wrinkled as you heard the sharp point break skin. No amount of faux stoicism could make it seem pleasant to you.

“I have a few questions,” You grimace under your mask as she asserts herself. She can ask them all she wants, but there’s no guarantee you’ll answer. 

You might, probably, as keeping secrets hasn’t always been your strong suit. She’s certainly been trying to open you up for a while. You’ve not given her any leeway before though, no reason to give her any now. 

“How did you tame your dragon?” She asked, pushing a particularly thick dragon searching for morsels. Valka guides its head gently away with her spare hand before any of the other dragons crowding around them get any ideas.

You wait for a moment, still wondering whether you should follow along. Eventually, you decide to answer.

“Wasn’t me. Someone else back home did it,” You huff, “I just followed along.”

“...But not very well,” Valka hums. It’s obvious she doesn’t believe you. Unfortunately for her, that is not your problem. 

 She pulls a small trout off her own stick, tossing it to a crowd of young dragons, who you knew had acquired a taste for the cooked, through no fault of your own.

You should feel offended, but you know she’s right. You lean away from a wandering dragon snout as it searches you for morsels. The stormcutter, after a look from Valka, shoos it away with a large wing.

 “Where are you from?” 

You feel the embers from the fire as they rise, the furs of your coat becoming nearly unbearable, your skin heated up rapidly. You wrinkle your brow with annoyance as you feel a drop of sweat slide down the side of your face.

“Where are you from?” You retort pointedly.

She studies you cautiously, as if she could glean your intentions from your body language. And she very well could. Or the heat was getting to you, the wells you’d spent in solitude had finally done some real damage to your psyche, and you were hallucinating.

“Berk,” She says. You sit back, surprised, “And you?”

“...None of your business.” You wonder how long it had been since she had left. You pray she would not know you.

Valka raised her eyebrow. 

“I’m serious.” You ground your heel into the dirt. It was a touchy subject, still.

“Berk, too. …Stop looking at me like that.”

Valka leaned back against the ice wall where you rested, looking out over the empty ocean as dragons flooded to and fro the sanctuary. You squinted far into the distance, as if you thought you might be able to see through it if you tried hard enough.

Your hair tugged wildly by the winds out from behind your mask as you sat, one leg extended and the other bent as you leaned back against one arm. 

You probably looked as you felt, weary and unkempt after a long flight over the seas with your dragon, who clambered among the icy spike-lined wall with clawed hands. You felt refreshed yet somehow at odds with yourself still.

You cared little for your bedraggled demeanor the same way you hadn’t cared for much at all in a while. It might have made a cool picture had you not slipped and fallen onto your face on the ice just a few minutes prior. Whether you had broken your nose or not on your mask had yet to be uncovered. All that mattered was that Valka hadn’t seen.

Dragons crowed. Through the cracks in the walls of the sanctuary, the wind would whistle through if it hit the right angle. Louder than anything else were the sounds of the waves crashing against rock. 

But between you and Valka, it was silent. A contemplative silence, the kind of silence you shared with others after a long thought or a hard day’s work. That’s how you knew she was going to break it.

“Why did you leave?”

You are annoyed at the prospect but are no less expectant. After the moment passes, you are not surprised. However, it feels as if you are the one who should be asking.

“Why did I leave?” You ask, “Does it matter?”

A loose chunk of ice falls off the side of the sanctuary as a large titan scrambles violently down the side, chasing after a bright yellow baby. You spot a shape through the fog, distant and blurry enough to resemble a bird though there are no birds here. You pointedly do not think of your small hut, even less of green eyes, and tiny, fading freckles.

Valka tilted her head in your direction, reaching a hand out to scratch Cloudjumper under his chin as he lowered himself towards her, “It mattered to you.”

You open your mouth, but you are only able to choke on your breath. No one has ever said something like that to you, not in a long while. You don’t understand why it’s hitting you so hard. Maybe it’s the isolation.

You blame the burning of your eyes on the biting wind.

 “Why did you leave?” You ask in return, once you’ve taken time for yourself, though you have an idea. You can’t keep your voice from sounding a little bit scratchy.

You unhook your dagger from your belt, trying not to seem so attentive. Instead, you take to carving random shapes into the ice. A gronkle. A nadder.

“I was taken.” She sighs, quieter now. Lost off in memory as you both often are.

The nadder’s spikes are much too long. The gronkle looks more like a sandwich than a dragon.

“Taken?” You prompt and you begin on the outline of a fury. The result is shallow and scratchy. 

It’s one of your own designs, not the same as the one Berk uses. Astrid liked the other one better, not yours, so that was the one Hiccup went with.

“I didn’t leave,” She insisted, almost as if she was trying to convince herself of the fact,  “I had a son, and a husband.”

You’ve seen her by the fires, while trying to sneak out of this hellish ice maze. She talks to herself then. On particularly paranoid days, she’s slept by you, in the same caverns, so you’ve heard it. She talks in her sleep and says things she would never say awake, or had you been around. It’s all so very unsettling. 

“Really?” You remarked with false astonishment. The facade is flimsy, but you figured you’d give her the benefit of the doubt. The grace to assume that you’d no idea what she was on about.

With prompting, you might have seen it earlier. In her slim form, the one she kept hidden under thick furs and thicker armor. You squint. They have the same eye color. The same hair. They both have higher cheekbones, though her son more resembles his father in that aspect. That is all.

Valka shoots you a reprimanding look. Cloudjumper, now creeping down the wall behind you, taps you on the back of your head with its tail at her behest.

Valka was of the air. Though he had the same flighty tendencies, he was very grounded, like his father, though he might either be proud or loath to admit it. He loved flying, yes, but he loved inventing and processing and routine just as much, if not more.

He did when you were close. Of course he did, he spent his whole life on it. You couldn’t really say you knew him anymore.

You didn’t pin Valka as the type to enjoy the same in any sort of manner. But that suited you just as well. You found that as time went by and as you were granted more freedoms, you appreciated it. It made it easier for you to forget. To ignore.

In the end they, you and she, she and you, were one and the same.

“But what does it matter, if you never went back?” You grumble, pushing your dragon’s head away as it nudges you towards the cliff, crooning for more flying time.

You guessed that was why she clung so viciously to the safety of her sanctuary. Why she hated other people so much, why she’d had no faith in the humanity of other people, why she’d held you here so strictly. If things could have been different, then what did she give it all up for?

Though you’d never had something else. Not even the option. You’d never been given it. Valka hadn’t been given it either, but there was a sure difference between something being there and not. 

The atmosphere is silent again, tainted with some darker undertones. If you’d had to put a name to it, you might have called it grief. 

“I want to leave.”

Valka doesn’t look surprised at your request. And indeed, it’s been no secret that you wanted to leave. Maybe she was glad for it, or maybe she was sad at the news. 

After all, you settled into each other's presence long ago. You had a good sort of companionship.

And from that companionship, you learned a lot without even trying, just by watching. Eventually she took notice and she took an active part in teaching you the truths she learned during all her years in self-imposed isolation. 

You two weren’t incredibly close but you could tell Valka was grateful for the company, grateful to have someone maybe even a little bit like her, even if most of it was spent in silence. 

You still left the Drago fighting for her. It wasn’t your fight, it was hers, and you made that clear.

Neither of you brought up Berk. Ever. 

You were content to just come and go as you pleased, for a while. Nonetheless, despite your freedom, you felt restricted to the small world of the Sanctuary and the empty skies around it. There was no place for you on the ground or by the seas, where hunters and trappers swarmed by the thousands and Drago’s armies grew by the day. 

You spent so much time learning from her and yet it felt like no time at all. Which was why you were shocked when you’d truly learned how much had come and gone in full. 

You were out slinking in the shadows, seeking shelter from a storm on the same small rocky outcropping of island that had a shipful of trappers stranded, in a rage and a panic as they attempted to recover their assets. The winds had been too rough to fly, so you had no choice but to wait and listen.

You didn’t believe it at first. It had been…

Months.

You wondered if he’d been married, yet.

Years. 

The idea hurt, not as much as you’d thought it would, still not as little as you’d hoped.

Under clear skies, you found an inn, untouched by everything except grass and trees.

You asked, “What day is it?”

The large man, a burly viking scrubbing down a wooden cup with a torn old rag, had looked down at you skeptically from behind a beaten pine and stone counter.

Two years. It had been nearly two years since you left Berk. Just as Valka’s attachments kept her at the Sanctuary, you needed to go. To run.

Since you had heard it, spoken it, the urge to run, to fly hadn’t abated at all, going from a wispy thought at the back of your mind to a full blown need. Your dragon too had become antsy, maybe feeding off of your nervous energy. Eager to take off, to fly new skies.

“Are you sure?” Valka asked searchingly. You two were stationed over a heavily planted cliff over a large main pool which consisted of the main cavern within the Sanctuary, once again in front of a fire, eating your own meals as the dragons below ate and exchanged fish. 

You were already packed, your mask secured as it had been for all two years you had been in this place stuck between confinement and dwelling. You almost regretted it, not telling her your name, but you couldn’t bear yourself to her knowing who she was, not truly. Not until you’d washed yourself of that particular weight. 

“Yes,” One day you would, if you ever saw her again. Once you were released from the heartache and pain of your own making, “I am. Thank you.”

You started out into the pale foggy sky,  mounted your beast as smooth as you’d ever done, which is to say, not smooth at all. You’d only ever managed it right when Valka was watching, anyhow. It was odd how that worked, maybe the peer pressure was finally starting to kick in.

As you took off and the sanctuary became smaller and smaller both to your eyes and your mind, as the tight bundle of chains in your chest dropped and the world opened up to you once more, you felt light, and free. 

Once again, there was no one to watch you and no one to hurt for besides your and your dragon. Endless opportunity. Thousands of ways to keep going.

You wondered what your face looked like.

You couldn’t wait to see it again.

Hiccup traced the faint outline of a Night Fury in the ice with his fingertips.

He tried to suppress the bubbling hope and dread at the thought his mother had been lying to him and his father about being alone all those years.

 He had left to get some air and to give his parents time together to linger while the snowstorm outside abated, taking shelter under a misty overhang of ice just off one of the tunnels leading back into the main dwelling. One that had fortunately not fallen victim to the heavy layers of snow drowning the uncovered surfaces below. 

Toothless had followed him out, of course, and sniffled curiously at the ground, giving the other few doodles littered across the ice an inspection of his own. Hiccup sat back, covering his mouth with his hand as he mulled over the implications.

He then stood, staring back into the tunnel leading back into the sanctuary. Much of the awe he had felt earlier at the discovery of his mother had washed away and a wave of uncertainty and hurt replaced it.

He knew he had been given grace. A lot more than he deserved. 

Since everything had changed, terrible mistakes became minor inconveniences. People no longer whispered about Hiccup the weird, Hiccup the Useless, the Hiccup who just didn’t get it. Rather, every jest on his behalf was now just another one of his strange little quirks. 

He did his part. He was happy to have a part now. A real one.

(He’d had a part. Blacksmith, inventor, friend.)

(Mistake.)

He thought they’d do the same for you. But you weren’t doing well. Even though he was busy with his new role, he noticed. He noticed when you fell behind, when you still couldn’t seem to find your place.

(His father, looking at him with shining eyes.)

He begged for you to not fumble this chance that you both had to be different. To be a part of something real, something tangible.

(He was so proud.)

Except. 

(It made him sick.)

He knew what it was like. To be the odd one out, to not be able to do things quite the way you were supposed to. After all, if he hadn’t had Toothless then he would still be the same old Hiccup. 

(He felt like the same old Hiccup.)

So yeah, it made sense that you weren’t always the first on call. It made sense, when you lagged behind. Why you weren’t part of the group the same way everyone else was. 

(Was he?)

Like a wall had been shattered and the curtains pulled, he’d been witness to some of the moments between the other Dragon Riders he’d not been included in when he was ‘other.’ Moments that he just couldn’t quite indulge in, that used to be aimed at him, that caused something ugly and sad to curl tight in his stomach.

That left the sour taste of stomach acid on his tongue that he couldn’t wash away, no matter what he drank or how many times he tried.

So he vouched for you when the whispers started. Hounded them until they stopped, despite the creeping feeling that they were right. Clung tightly onto the few moments you were able to spend together. The way things used to be.

(Pushed down the tiny voice telling him he still didn’t belong.)

Days. It took days for them to notice you were gone. Truly gone. And they couldn’t be sure at all when it had happened, what or why. 

They assumed you were dead. Once the next devastating winter set in, there was no way you could have made it on your own.

They locked your hut. An empty grave. The key, he’d taken and melted down into other things.

But. there was always a but.

Hiccup was a good handyman. For the most part. He’d caused a lot of handy-requiring, meaning he’d had a lot of practice.

He broke your lock.

Hiccup stared down at the piles of maps, noted, traced and copied sprawled across your desk, pulled out from underneath a loose floorboard by your bed. He clenched the various compasses and sea charts hidden in drawers and carelessly thrown under dishware.

 It turned out you had a lot of free time on your hands. 

There was something missing. Something missed when the other riders would joke and prod, wielding inside jokes he’d never been privy to just as easily as they wielded swords and hammers. And now he had no one to share with when they did.

There was something missing late at night working on a new tailfin, or a rig, or early in the morning when he was too tired to piece metal jigs together.

It just wasn’t the same, going to Fishlegs or Snotlout with these things, and heaven knows that Astrid wouldn’t entertain the idea at all. It was the dragons that appealed to her most. She was an early riser and an early sleeper and for many reasons she appealed to him, but she just couldn’t be what Hiccup needed. Not then.

You faded away as if you were a ghost, a door to a room no one used.

They didn’t get how it felt to spend all those years being the odd one out. He needed someone who got it. He needed someone who got him. A friend.

And like a note in the margins of a bad story, eventually no one mentioned you at all.

He flew as far and as fast as he could. Mapping the world, exploring farther and farther, as if he might somehow be able to trace your footsteps, following a lost trail that one day a long time ago you might have paved.

He’d flown as if, once he’d flown far enough, he might have been able to understand where you’d gone. 

(Why you left him.)

They figured a way to identify dragons through scale patterns. It was a skill Fishlegs had perfected first, taking vague, long held knowledge and putting it into practice, doing the math.

Hiccup ran his hand down the side of this dragon, eyeing the torn wings, the spiked crown. The jaw.

Recording its age, its gender, his place of origin.

“You know this dragon?” Valka asked cautiously. Distrustfully. She was leaning against her staff, face guarded. He didn’t need to look to know that last bit, he heard it just fine. 

Hiccup furrowed his brow. Two fish, a scratch under the chin. Dragon nip, a saddle, carefully woven and tenderly worn.

“I trained it.”

Hiccup leaned forward against Toothless, urging him ever onwards against the rough, buffeting winds and vicious onslaught of snow. Higher and higher until they cut above the clouds, breaching the threshold of the storm, evading it altogether.

Your absence had long since become an idea. Your person, a concept that eluded him time and time again, as inescapable yet unreachable as his own grieving heart.

But now, with the news from his father, his mother… he’d set out immediately, with not a word to spare despite Gobber warning him of the oncoming storm.

You were only two days departed. Two days out, a mirage turned real and he pursued it with all the desperation of a child. Finally, nearly, you were almost tangible. Reachable, physical, real.

There was no telling how far you’d gone or how far you’d go if you’d been given the chance to flee. He needed to catch up, catch you, see you. 

Happy to be on your own again, you’d taken a few days rest just outside of Valka’s territory. You didn’t expect to be caught off guard like that. You didn’t expect to be found, even by accident. It was just your luck.

“Damn it!” Peering from around the bend, you spotted a man. And he was a man now, a long shot away from the kids you two were. 

He was masked, hidden just out of view inside the crack between a rocky craig, where you’d set up camp. However the unmistakable form of Toothless followed suit as the two fought the wind and storm, searching for shelter.  

You brushed your hand over your own mask, your dragon breathing over your shoulder as it too surveyed the newcomers. They had crash landed quite suddenly and you’d rushed to compensate, hiding before they could notice. Hopefully they hadn’t noticed. He nor Toothless wouldn’t ever notice, not if you played your cards right.

You wondered if he remembered you at all. If he knew or if he’d ever had the mind to think about you. What brought him here. Maybe he’d just been chasing a whim. You pushed back a large animal skull with your foot, the mangled remnants of your attempt to fashion a new helmet with no face.

Toothless shook his head, looking at Hiccup sourly as they trudged on towards an outcropping near the center of the small island they’d found themselves on. 

Hiccup rubbed his arms grievously, staring out towards the sea, not sure the place wouldn’t be overtaken should a particularly large wave come to shore. There was no way he’d be able to catch up to you now, not in this rough weather. He prayed that the storm would give but the chances of that were low and he had little hope.

He stumbled slightly as he was buffeted forwards, finally making it to the entrance of a nigh hidden, narrow space carved into a crack in the large rock. Toothless snuffled at his back, urging him forward, though he had to take pause at the entrance as he spotted movement in the back.

A dragon? Or…

You hadn’t played your cards right.

You cursed as you ran further into the cave and towards the opening you knew lay at the back, your dragon already there, packed and ready. You had to run back after the realization you’d forgotten your dagger, which you probably should have just left behind.

“Hey, wait!”

 You grit your teeth as Hiccup made chase, running past your dead fire and crumbling fish bones. You would have been caught had the passage not been too narrow for him and Toothless to run side-by-side. It was just luck that he hadn’t yet thought to jump back onto his saddle.

You increased your speed as the passage started to open up and swung onto your own dragon, kicking off and just missing Hiccup as he skidded to a stop. Toothless lept in front of him right after. 

You could just imagine the two of them vaulting into the sky, a common scene turned frightening image as you and your own dragon bolted.

You’d had plenty of experience flying through this kind of weather. You hadn’t always, and the vikings on Berk hadn’t much at all, choosing to hole up with their dragons when the snow got too rough.

It gave you the advantage, one you needed if Hiccup decided to follow. There was no way to tell with the snow this thick, and with Toothless, he’d be nearly impossible to outmaneuver. You stayed under the clouds, hoping to keep your cover, as traveling into the open sky now would most definitely give you away.

What you could make out below between flurries of hail and flakes was nothing but open ocean and large mountains of ice, which passed you by in less than an instant as you sped as far away as possible, using the winds to uplift instead of hindering you. 

You scanned the area around you, looking for a sound place to escape and hide. Something caught your eye but just barely and you swooped downwards.

With what happened next, you might have been caught off guard had it not been for the yelling you could make out just barely above the wind. Instead you were just incredibly scared as a large mass spiraled into you, sending the four of you tumbling and screaming down into the cavern below.

Through the vertigo you were able to kick Hiccup, untangling your limbs with force as your dragon took unsteadily to the air again.

“Wait- Come back!” He shouted, leaning forwards, arm extended towards you. Toothless roared.

“No!” You yelled stubbornly back as you twisted to glare at him through your mask.

Regrettably, it seems that the Night Fury remained undefeated in terms of speed and inescapability as he soon caught up to you again, Toothless grabbing onto your dragon’s tail and with a hard yank, forcing your landing onto a nearby ledge, large and long enough to facilitate your rough spill and roll against hard gravel. 

Your mask cracked as it was thrown against the ground, loudly echoing as it clattered against hard stone.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to- It was really rough out there, and I-” Hiccup stumbled to his feet, shaking his mechanical foot out of Toothless’ saddle, heart pounding as you looked up at him behind scraggly hair, crouched a good few strides forwards

He’d found the experience novel when he’d seen it on his Dad, an outsider looking in. But to experience it firsthand… He knew what his father meant, when he said ‘You’re as beautiful as the day I lost you.’

Even seeing you as messed up and wild as you were squeezed his breath out of his chest. Maybe even made you more… Whatever this was. Whatever you were to him. 

You definitely looked different, a little older, features more defined, but he’d die before he’d cease to recognize that face.

He had to shut his mouth, lips pursed as if to hold back all the memories flooding back into his mind, faster than the winds blowing up on the surface. You two, as kids in the meadows, complaining about life and dads, sneaking around the Great Hall, causing messes and being scolded.

He realized what it was that he’d felt and missed so deeply. It was something he’d known, hidden so deep inside, realized much too late.

You held back tears as the life you’d tried so hard to forget had finally caught up to you. Within an instant, this new life you had built for yourself had completely fallen apart.

You saw the man- because you begged for it not to be him, and you’d exhausted all your avenues, and the only option you had left was denial, took a shaky step forward, pulling his helmet back over his head with both hands, revealing a face lathered in sweat despite the cool conditions.

Trolls.

“Why…” Your voice, scratchy and ragged, was easily heard despite your whispering as there was nothing else to be heard, “Are you here?”

“Why… Am I…?” Hiccup asked incredulously, staring at you wide-eyed.

“Yes!” You shout, shoving the hair out of your face as you stood abruptly, “What in the world are you doing here?” Your dragon, laying behind you, began to stand, cautiously crouching against the ground.

“I came looking for you!” He looked like you’d kicked his puppy. You bared your teeth at him.

“You came looking for me? You chased me through a storm like a maniac! Can’t you take a hint?! Gods,” You grip your shoulder, “You probably broke my shoulder, curse it!”

“I’m sorry- I’m sorry I hurt you, that I-” Hiccup stepped forward. Toothless growled, behind him, “But you left! What was I supposed to do with that?”

“What you were supposed to do with that? You tackled me to the ground!” It had been so long.

“You didn’t even say goodbye!”

“You’re mad about goodbyes? Was the goodbye I gave you not good enough?!” He had scruff now, a light dusting of peach fuzz spotting along his chin. His hair was redder, his eyes greener. Or maybe that was the lighting.

“You went missing for two years! So I chased after you. Who wouldn’t? In what world would ‘I’ll see you later’ ever be enough? Ever?” It’s not like he ever gave you a goodbye. Not before he’d left you in the dust.

“I was hurt! And what are you- how do you even remember that, anyways?” You scoff loudly. But in the end he was still the same boy. He would have taken anyone else at their whim as a friend or otherwise. Yet he didn’t even recognize your companionship or your silly little crush. Wasn’t that disheartening?

Hiccup stomped forwards, causing you to step back. Your dragon snarled and followed as Toothless began to circle, trapping you and Hiccup in the middle of a very dangerous tango.

“How could I-? You’d- Just- Have you ever considered that maybe I was hurting, too? I spent so long just trying to fix- everything! I spent so long doing, and then you just leave and I can’t do anything about it! Do you know how painful that was? Why didn’t- why didn’t you tell me? Why didn’t you talk to me? Why?” He had worked hard. So, so hard.

 He probably would have chosen Ruffnut’s hand over yours. He thought she was terrible.

“Why?” You asked him, throwing your arms out, squishing the little ball of guilt worming around in your stomach, “Why didn’t you talk to me? Do you know how much it hurt, to be constantly left behind like- like your old scraps, and maybe I got tired of hearing about it! Hearing about all of it! Your standing, your dad, your stupid girlfriend! Could you not just be happy with what you had?”

“What-”

He did get Astrid, though. He pursued her even though, for the longest time, she remained just ever so out of his league. The same way he was and wasn’t out of yours. Yeah, you were jealous. So, so jealous.

Of her, of his cousin and all his other friends for pushing you around and squeezing you out of his life. You were mad at him for letting them, after all they’d done to the both of you.

“I got made fun of! All the damn time! And your head was so full of air- you were too busy jerking your own ego to notice!” Your eyes stung as you shouted at him.

“Up my own ego!” Hiccup stopped, “No one wanted me as I was. I spent so long trying to make everything work for everyone else! What I had-I wanted you to have it too! So why? Why did you leave?”

“You say that, but-” You grimace and, “Shouldn’t it be obvious? Maybe I didn't want that! Did- did you ever stop to consider that maybe I wanted you? You didn’t have to make anything up for me! You-! It was all about you!”

“I- Honestly, you have to- All my life, I-”

“I have to what?! We had the same life, Hiccup!”

“I know!” Hiccup squeezed his eyes shut tightly. Then, quicker than you could react, he grabbed you by your upper arm and pulled you closer just enough- It wasn’t pleasant at all, all force and teeth against lip. But the next one.

He pulled back, readjusted and you slipped together seamlessly. Closed-mouthed, but he clearly knew what he was doing, kissing you that way. You held onto his elbows, unmoving yet still, frozen by shock. He’d gotten his practice in with Astrid. 

The thought sent a wave of fury down your spine. You punched him.

He reared back from the blow, accepting yet more startled than physically hurt as, just like him, you’d never had much muscle. Still, you’d left what was quickly becoming a nice red welt on his face.

 Your dragons stared at the both of you in shock, yours more in confusion than Toothless. There weren’t many Vikings in the sanctuary, so the meaning behind the gesture, the punch and the kiss, was probably lost.

“I thought…” He mumbled, eyes wide again, speaking as though whatever just happened, hadn’t, “I thought everything was fine. Fine enough. Between us.” You looked at him, the place where your heart used to be all twisted up and torn.

He was a liar. He was a liar, and you wouldn’t let him one over you. Not again. You didn’t want him to, more than anything else.

In spite of that, emotionally and physically, you were exhausted. You could only manage sadness. You weren’t sure you had the energy to push him away. 

“You thought wrong.” You didn’t want to speak to him at all.

“Please, don’t-” he fell apart, voice hushed and cracking as he spoke. He took the final step towards you, burying his head against your shoulder. You stood stiff, staring out over into the scenery beyond his back and yet unseeing.

It was weird, having said everything you’d needed to say, that you’d bottled up for so many years. It defined you for so long that having it all out in the open kind of made you feel like you’d lost something essential.

“I see it. I see it now. I really do,” He whispered that last part tearfully, fingers gripping weakly onto the fabric of your sleeves. You felt as though a stiff breeze might blow him away, “Please, don’t leave me. Not again.” 

He couldn’t say that.

“I can’t let you go again,” He really couldn’t say that.

“Just... Just tell me what you want.” He couldn’t say that, either. Toothless shot you a scathing glare, your dragon all but forgotten as he tugged Hiccup back. Your dragon unfurled its wings behind you, standing tall and proud as he pulled away towards the entrance to the cavern. 

You met Hiccup’s gaze.

“Just do me this.” You choked out, watching as his expression switched from despaired to flat and back again, “Go away,”

 “Please.” You said.

And he did. He turned tail and ran.

It was over.

As he flew away on Toothless, becoming nothing but a pinprick in your periphery before finally disappearing up the cavern entrance, you fell back down onto your knees. 

You weren’t sure what to do anymore. The most important decision of your life was made with his ghost nipping at your heels. Truly, he haunted you. Whether he was with you or not, he always haunted you.

But the dragons here, untouched by the outside world, were kind. And curious. Once the threat was gone and the commotion was over, many came over to examine the newcomers, sniffing and prodding at you and your things.

They were welcoming enough. So you set up shop.

Hiccup laid flat against his bed, staring at the ceiling of his childhood home. He felt torn in every single direction all at once.

He’d left when his people needed him. When his father had needed him. Drago had attacked while he’d been gone, and all that was left of the sanctuary now was rubble. Then he’d gone after Berk. Hiccup had only just gotten there in time.

His father was fine, his mother… alive. After twenty years. Everyone was accounted for, but what if they hadn’t been? If he’d been there, maybe there would have been less damage, less people hurt.

But he wouldn’t have found you if he’d stayed. Finally, after all this time. He'd realized how long it truly had been since you left, lost to him even before you’d actually run off on your… the, nadder.

The floorboards creaked as someone made their way up the stairs to the loft, the front door swinging shut behind him. Hiccup didn’t move, just glancing to the side to see who it was that came to get him this time.

“Astrid,” He sighed. The two of them were distant and had been for a long while, despite the fact that they were supposed to be in a relationship. He’d been off a lot for that whole long while, which she hadn’t much minded as she’d found herself more interested in other things. And… he’d found his heart had a new owner.

“It’s been a month, Hiccup,” She rolled her head back, exhausted, as if reciting a tired script that she’d been reading off for ages, one that no one wanted to listen to anymore,  “Everyone is fine. You don’t have to hole up so often. I don’t know why you did it, but no one is mad you left, you know. You couldn’t have known.”

“Yeah…” Hiccup sighed, “Yeah, I know.”

“You need to get out,” She looked around his room, which was very much a mess of parts and papers, and ran her hand down a large map, laid flat over the only remotely clear space he had, his desk, “if you don’t next thing you know, a month’ll be four.”

“Why are you so obsessed with this place? … Does it have anything to do with the time you spent missing?” Astrid questioned. Hiccup propped himself up, turning over alarmed as he heard the sound of skin on paper. It had been freshly inked.

“No,” He’d guessed at where the two of you had ended up. He was sure that he’d be able to find it again, given the chance. He would. After he worked up the courage.

After all, you’d… You didn’t want to be found.

“Hey, wait, that’s-” He scrambled onto his one leg, kicking aside his prosthetic and jamming his toe in the process.

 “Ah, ow, ow, don’t touch that, please,” Astrid rolled her eyes and tossed the cylinder to his bed and he picked it up, examining it thoroughly as she sauntered off.

You weren’t sure why, but he kept coming back

“Hi,” He said awkwardly, shifting from foot to peg nervously. This was the first time he’d caught you. The first time he’d spotted you was the last but you’d made off that time before he could see you.

“Why are you here?” You stared at him, blank faced. Why didn’t you leave, curse it.

Your dragon waved its tail playful from the side, waiting for Hiccup to go. The other ones wouldn’t come out while he was here.  It felt good in a vindictive sort of way, because dragons had always been this thing, except this time you were the one with the secret dragon knowledge. And the upper hand. Sort of. They didn’t hide from you.

“I like… “ He flushed, “I like hearing you talk?”

“Sure,” You suggested, turning and starting off again, basket under arm and over rock as you began unsteadily making your way back up to home cave. You liked it there because you didn’t have to leave much for anything.

“Wait, wait, wait wait,” Hiccup stuttered. As you had your arms over a particularly steep ledge, your legs waved nonsensically and scrambled against the side as you searched for a foot grip, “Just, uh, let me-”

“Come back tomorrow,” You grunted after you managed to finally get one leg up the side. You’d probably figure out what to say by then.

You felt better here, like maybe you weren’t meant for people. Not for dragons either, not really.  The dragons here didn’t need defending or anything, it’s not like there was anyone down here to defend against besides other dragons. The most you’d had to go out for was food, and even that was made or stolen easily enough.

Being here gave you enough time to make you think that maybe you were meant just for yourself. 

You sat by the spray by the falls, enjoying the mist as it sprayed onto your face and the echoing sounds of the water hitting gray stone. 

“Toothless, come on- Just please, I know you don’t want- but-” Your eyes shot open, the distant voice of Hiccup bounced around the empty cavern, your moment ruined.

You looked around for the pair, trying to figure out which direction you should be running before. Suddenly, it felt like you’d been drenched by a whole lot more than a mist as Toothless landed messily behind you.

“What are you doing here?” You were careful to keep your balance as you shuffled further inland, looking a lot like a drenched cat as you came face-to-face with an also sopping wet Hiccup

You would never be rid of him.

“You said to come back tomorrow?” He asked, twisting his fingers and very purposefully refusing to look you in the eye.

Of course, you hadn’t figured out what to say.

You blew a raspberry as you adjusted the stolen, waterlogged basket which you had, again, under your arm. You needed more than two pairs of clothes.

“...Come back later,” You grumbled, “Later than tomorrow.”

You’d been free for a week. You’d been hoping for maybe two, to be frank.

“Please, I just-” Hiccup huffed, traveling by foot while you rode your dragon. Toothless followed behind, grumbling and gurgling at Hiccup judgmentally. Clearly whatever good will you’d built up with him before you ran left had been more than lost.

“I’m not interested in whatever you’re selling,” You stare straight ahead, over the encroaching cliff, ducking round and under ledges as your dragon trotted onwards.

“I want to get to know you, again.”

Eventually, the cave dragons had warmed up to Hiccup and he was able to work his magic on them. Now they watched through stalagmites and stalactites with impassive eyes as he made chase.

“Uh huh,” You scoffed as you reached the edge of the ledge. You turned around and stuck out your tongue as your dragon took a violent leap into the open air. As the wind whistled around you, you pinwheeled your arms in an effort to try and keep balance.

“Come on, Toothless, bud,” Hiccup complained from way behind. You saw Toothless very decidedly sit down, refusing to move even as Hiccup tried to push him towards the cliff with his whole upper body, “Let’s go.”

“So,” Hiccup started, “You haven’t gone any deeper.”

The both of you stared out into the vast, glowing sea of  towers and gigantic glowing mushrooms extending out of their jagged rock faces. In the distance you could spot gigantic crystals, protruding from the ground the same way the sanctuary did. 

Seas of dragons crowed and chirped, bright patterns shifting and growing under hard muscle. It was very dizzying, if you were going to be honest.

“No,” You replied, “No, I haven’t. Not this far, but now I… I might.”

You hadn’t traveled too far into the cavern, deciding not to push your luck with the locals. You always figured there was some sort of nest farther in. Turns out there was, and a whole lot more locals than you expected, and a lot more to this small world besides the cold, empty cavern. At least you didn’t have to worry about flooding anymore. Or sea salt in your hair.

You swore to yourself that you were going to move further in, caught off guard and most definitely embarrassed at the fact that so much open space had been hiding right under your nose. 

Free for three days.

“There has to be more. There’s no way- It doesn’t make sense how all these different kinds of dragons can live in the same environment. There’s- there’s so much here that-Gods, I have to map it,” Hiccup rambled, smiling gawkily.

He’d been here for a week.

You felt a pressure to supervise him as he ran rampant in your new home, unsure of when he’d become such a cartographer. Your dragons had gone missing a while ago, leaving you two to be babysat by the hands of the general public.

You watched as he painstakingly mapped each pillar, occasionally chiming in with your own advice, looking the same way he did the day he discovered honey when you were kids. It was almost pleasant.

The two of you had fallen off the edge of a pillar after being knocked down during a spat between two touchy Crimson Goregutters, which no Hiccup magic or dragon secret could stop. After an event with a vine, dangling over certain death and panic, you two had managed to swing your way onto a large glowing mushroom. 

The downside to that was that now, you were stuck, owed to the fact that apparently, what made some of these mushrooms glow was very viscous and… sticky. 

Hiccup’s arms were glued to the space on both sides of your head, and your hands were gripping his arms which were visibly shivering, because you two had been stuck like this for a while. You’d been tugged, prodded at and licked by various different dragons. Nothing helped and you were starting to think that maybe this was how you were going to die. 

Well, you knew you weren't going to go to Valhalla. It was kind of really hard to die in battle if you spent most of your time avoiding people. But this just sucked.

“What's up with your pathological need to map everything?” You asked belligerently. To be honest, it didn’t really bother you. Hiccup’s rambling had never bothered you, because you were prone to rambling in the same exact way. Currently though you were hard pressed to find anyone else to hear it. 

“I thought your thing was the forge? You spent half of my childhood there.”

“Well, yeah, I…” He rested his forehead against yours, eyes shut as his neck finally gave out, you weren’t too pleased as you felt his sweat drip onto your face, squirming rebelliously.

 “Wasn’t sure if you’d want to hear it. I-I could talk about that instead?” No talking at all would be great.

 “Yeah,” You gave in, closing your eyes and going limp against the slimy fungi, “That would be better.”

Lips pursed, then grimaced as he’d opened his mouth to speak. Nothing came out, though. He just stared above your head, unmoving. You tried to see what he was looking at, but only got an eyeful of his scruff.

Next thing you know, you’re being smothered by a plushy pink tongue, then just licked and nosed a little bit. The spit of this dragon doing something odd to dissolve the slime trapping the two of you, fizzing as it touched shiny goo. When you finally had the facilities to move, you flipped your head back and your eyes widened slightly.

It looked like the two of you had just found Toothless a girlfriend.

Three months, two days and five visits- no, seven. Nine? Eleven? Seventeen?

“I don’t actually have a problem… with the mapping. Talking about it.”

You two were nestled between a rock and another rock, though this time whether it was a result of purpose or chance remained uncertain. You couldn’t remember. You were after something… There was barely any space between the two of you. You had been talking.

There was barely any green to Hiccup’s eyes, most of his iris consumed by large pupils as he mouthed around works that looked suspiciously like, “Can I…?”

Instead, he leaned forwards and your foreheads touched, the same way they did when you were trapped before. His eyes were clenched shut as he uttered, “I love you.”

 You had a hard time believing that.

You turned your head to the side. 

“I wonder how Astrid feels about her boyfriend flying off and doing who knows what.”

Some of the wild dragons lay in front of you, licking at the dying fire by your feet. A terror lay in the middle of it. You’d lined it with stones which were now giving off a pleasant warmth.

“I doubt she’d mind. We’re not really… together anymore. I don’t think so. I wouldn’t… I wouldn’t want to be.”

“Right,” You raised an eyebrow at him skeptically. 

“Not since a little while after you left, actually.”

You found that hard to believe too, as you shook the burnt slice of fish off your knife onto your burnt slice of bread. You weren’t much better than Valka at cooking, but you were getting better. It was something about that sanctuary, or maybe something about that woman that just made you worse at cooking.

Hiccup wrinkled his nose over on the other side of your log as he shook his head at you.

It was a petty, but bitter sort of revenge. 

Your first kiss had been lost to a fair bloke- his words, not yours- in the middle-of-nowhere inn. It had been a long time since you’d been out, but you were sure you’d easily be able to find somewhere similar to lose some other things. Hiccup had your heart but you’d never give him the opportunity to take any of your firsts.

Two months.

You were angry at him for playing with your heart again.

“There was a crisis-Berk…” His voice cracked.

 You looked disinterestedly out over uncanny black waters. “Yeah, It’s fine.”

Seven days, seven visits. He might have been camping aboveground.

The two of you were between two large red fungi, settled on a mossy rock overlooking a new, larger, unmapped maze of rock pillars and black water rushing below. Dragons, glowing and colorful, mingled together off in the distance. Toothless was probably one, gone off to frolic with his new lady love.

“You never wanted me. As a friend, as a- …battle buddy, or as anything else. You would never have chosen me for anything. And I just… I didn’t want to be just what you settled for,” You mumbled into your knees, “You spent so long searching for better, and then you found it, and it just really hurt to realize that I wasn’t a part of that.” 

You spilt your heart out as you faced the cliffside. Hiccup was facing you. You didn’t care what he heard. None of this was real anyways.

“I’m sorry,” Hiccup repeated, clenching his eyes shut as he buried his nose into your shoulder, barely there though he had to crane his head forwards, due to the uncomfortable angle. 

What he had with Astrid these past few years, that was real. That was history. This thing between the two of you was just a mess of pain and turmoil and a little bit of childhood fantasy. An old infatuation rearing its head as you got everything nasty out of your system.

“It hurt to think that-That… the one person- Like everyone else did, you didn’t think I was good enough either.”

“I’m sorry.” You felt his arms come around your sides awkwardly before he squeezed.

“Me too. I…”

He’d remember that he didn’t want-need- you again soon enough.

“I haven’t told anyone. About you, or this place.”

“You haven’t?” You’d actually expected otherwise. It was nice to know you weren’t at risk of getting dropped in on.

Two months, thirty two visits.

You might be coming around to him.

“You’ve already-?” He asked, a little startled. You still felt a little silly about it but after you’d done it, you figured it wasn’t that big of a deal. It wasn’t like you’d planned to marry or anything anyways, so his reaction was kind of funny.

“Yeah, I was pretty mad. So I went out, and… you know. It was a while ago, though.” 

He looked a little disheartened at the idea, but he just scoffed, waving his hand off in your direction.

“What? You and Astrid kissed, yeah, but you haven’t done- anything? Not even before you ‘totally broke up,’” You didn’t have to specify what they hadn’t done, the innuendo was already pretty obvious.

“Nah.” Hiccup said, hair wiped out of his face, matched squares of parchment. Map pieces were strewn out in front of him as he made himself busy trying to create a complete chart of the underground, matching up the landscape he saw with the islands above it.

 Unfortunately, the caverns seemed to stretch on forever and the islands only covered so much.

Three months, one day, thirty two hours. 

You straddled him, crinkling some of the many, many blueprints scattered across the moss surface. You wiggled one out from under him, looking down as he looked up. It felt good, being the one in charge for once.

You leaned down, pressing your noses together. Just before, you’d been going over his things. His blueprints. Swapping ideas. Sharing minds. Like you used to, every single day. Like you’d been doing, almost every single day.

“Do you love me?” You asked.

Every day you’d been together. Your knees touched, shoulders pressed close together.

You had to know. And if he did… He had to mean it. 

You played games, shared stories. You’d grappled and curled, not the way vikings could, but the way two hiccups did, a long, long time ago. 

If he didn’t, well… You had all the time in the world to leave, to start again. But you didn’t think you could. You could go weeks without seeing him, and then sometimes it would be every other day. 

This was it.

“I do love you,” He choked out, wheezing as you adjusted, your weight pressing against his chest. He glanced back at you, crumbling a little bit. 

He spent a lot of time here, now. A lot more than before. With the time spent traveling in between, as he said it, it was a wonder he got anything done there at all. Most of his time was spent above mapping the islands or down here with you.

You read what his body language told you; he was insecure. 

“... Do you love me?”

“I do.” Hesitantly, you nodded, “I do.” Was that even a question?

You trusted him. You didn’t trust him. You had no way to know if he stabbed you in the back again. Went back to Astrid. You didn’t really have a way to know if that’s what he did, every time he left. 

You loved him, didn’t you?

He didn’t know that? Maybe not always and not all at once, since you left. You hadn’t done a very good job of making him know it. You hadn’t a lot of reason to. 

Did you love him now?

You marveled at how easy it was to be around him, with him. It wasn’t the same as it was before, but it was still good. It could almost be better. You, against everything, wanted it. You wanted it so bad.

“I’d leave it all behind, for you,” Hiccup said.

You would make him know it.

“You would?” You asked, “Would you?”

You laid your heart bare to him, stitched and spiked. And you, as he said it, implied it, maybe you held his. 

“Do you want me to?” He asked. He tugged lightly on one of the draws to your tunic, faking interest in it as he worried the inside of his cheek. You didn’t want his home, or his family. 

“I don’t want anything,” You scoffed dismissively. You wanted his honesty. You wanted to know that he was yours. Yours truly. That was it.

Prove it. You urged him on, Prove it to me. 

He smiled that goofy, awkward smile, half teeth and all closed at the edges. You could tell he was trying hard not to falter. You hadn’t seen that smile in such a long time.

Know me, You asked.

“So… Do you? Do you love me?” He asked again, offering his hand up to your face. His fingers were scabbed, and dirty and you leaned into his palm, pushing it down as he tangled his fingers clumsily into the roots of your hair. You pressed your lips together, again, again and over again until neither of you could breathe. 

Have me, You pleaded.

“I do,” You gasped into his mouth, “I really, really do.” You offered no resistance. Not this time.

Love me. 

There was no coming back.

(Deep in your mind, you wondered if maybe, possibly, he already did.)

Twelve months. Twelve months since he’d found you.

Hiccup stood at the edge of Berk, armor packed away in favor of a lighter tunic. He often wondered what it would have been like, if he’d really run away with you like he’d intended.

If things would have ended up the same. 

Would he have seen you in time? In time for what he had now? For this? 

No. no, probably not. 

…

His father would notice. His mother might.

His father was fine. And now he had his mother. They were old, but they were tough. They could have a new kid. Or maybe they’d convince Snotlout or Astrid to take the mantle. 

They’d-everyone-would be fine without him.Who was he kidding? He’d spent so long working so hard and they didn’t need him at all. And if he was honest, He didn’t need them. 

He didn’t really care. Not anymore. He let go.

Life would go on just fine without him, just as it did before him and just as it would long after his name was lost to time. His distance only proved it. He spent so long away he’d been practically excommunicated again.

After a little bit of irritation, his travels became just another one of his quirks. 

‘Oh, look, there’s Hiccup. Oh, well, he’s off again.’ He was barely missed. And rightly so. It was by his own doing, really. That was fine by him. In fact, It worked in his favor.

It was borderline hysterical how, the moment they found more furies, and his new paramour, Toothless went from devil’s advocate to his most eager accomplice. 

The Sand Wraiths were especially cool… It cost him a lot less fish to get there now. To you.

Sometimes he had to wonder why he’d been so attached to Berk. Working for things that ultimately, he didn’t care about. Everything that kept him here, he also had with you. When he was here, all he wanted was to go back out.

A pebble-sized ball of guilt coil in his stomach. It used to be worse. But, he’d talked to you about it. The engagement.

The engagement with Astrid. The one that was basically moot at this point, anyways. She might even slap him if he brought it up, to expect anything after he’d left her for so long. Truly, officially. all he’d had to do was end it. He left a letter nearby her family home; they would find it if they bothered to search for him.

A scummy trick, yes. Was he a coward for doing it? Maybe. But he was a smart coward. He wasn’t lying when he’d told you that no one knew.

Hiccup exhaled, bouncing up and down on his heel and peg, as if to psych himself up. To dispel all of his nervous, excited energy.

It was a clear day, no risk of a storm. He strapped his saddle pack to Toothless. It was only slightly larger than usual, so as not to arouse suspicion, of course, but it held all of his essentials. Leatherworking tools, metalworking tools, more tools, his armor, spare armor, spare foot, spare charcoal. The small plush his mother had made for him as a child. His viking helmet, for memory’s sake.

Slung over his shoulder was a smaller pack with just his compass and his coin. 

As the two of you grew closer and closer, it only made his decision more and more certain.

He wasn’t meant to be Chief. He wasn’t cut out for this life at all. He didn’t want this life. He wanted you. 

As far as anyone else was concerned, you’d long since disappeared and now he had the feeling it was time for him to do the same.

He took a deep breath, one that pushed his lungs to his ribs. Then like his bag, he flung himself over Toothless’ saddle before he took off from Berk for the last time, closing his eyes. He’d left his helmet off this time so he felt the beating wind rip through his hair.

The two of you were there, half hidden from view under a large red plume. It was wasm, and your perspiring skin was trapped under hollow armor, same as his. 

You gasped, hot air mingling every time his breath hit your face. The two of you huffed and panted as he pushed you unto the dirt and you pushed back, feeling the moss tickle your face and the backs of your hand. 

Not your back, though. Just hands. 

Gripped, interlaced fingers pressed firmly down by your head, sweaty palms melded to his. He’d been the one in charge, today.

He was hunched over you, his trousers unbuckled and unlaced as he pressed downwards, forwards, gently and not.

A line of sweat ran down your cheek. Your eyelids fluttered. His breath caught.

Men shouted their battle cries into the dark, never ending sky as Berk was set in flames. A skull, still fresh with blood and exposed brain, broke with a sickening, wet crunch as Stoick ground his head into it, bringing mercy to the poor, damaged creature.

“There is no fury here,” He bellowed as he towered menacingly against the hulking wall of flames by his door. Three Deathgrippers and their tails lay cut, prone and slain around him. 

“We’ll see about that,” Grimmel crooned, standing tall with his hands linked behind his back, looking down on him with two more dragons hissing and spitting by his sides.

Sharp talons dug into the wood of the rafters, Cloudjumper’s head turning steering around as he hung by her feet. Valka, masked and fully covered, crouched down from where she was, nestled at the bend of his tail. She pulled her arms back, getting her hook, sharp and serrated, ready for a wicked swing.

Yes, he would see. She’d make sure of it.

[things-arent-what-they-seem66]

Hiya! It's me, dude!

Seeing as we finished our moth one, I have to keep you busy. So, I have a new au for you!

This one is based on The Last Unicorn. I'm not sure if you've seen the movie, but you should definitely watch it. It was made in the 80s, so it's a tad old. But it's a gooden. I've changed the story a little bit.

I'm going to try and keep it short, but you know me.

Adam is the last unicorn, basically just living his life. Every other unicorn have been killed for their power.

Alastor is the big bad in this. He's the Red King and has been using the unicorns for their power. He's basically immortal at this point.

Lucifer is a knight in this. His story is that he's the real king and is trying to kill Alastor. So there's a bit of a selfish reason behind him helping Adam.

Lucifer knew there was only one unicorn left, and if he could capture it, he could use its power against Alastor.

Unfortunately for Lucifer, he finds the unicorn, but as it's being attacked by the Red Deer, a minion of Alastor.

Lucifer decides to turn the unicorn human to stop the deer from being able to find it. That's where he meets and names Adam.

Adam hates Lucifer at first, recognizing that he's only wanting to use him, like every other human. Lucifer tried to convince him otherwise, but it didn't work out very well. Eventually, Lucifer finds himself falling for Adam. He doesn't know if he wants his king title back or to just run away with Adam.

Adam doesn't enjoy being human. Everything is so different. He doesn't trust anyone, especially anyone who could work for Alastor. It takes him a while to trust Lucifer, but he eventually gets convinced that he helped him to keep him safe. But in the back of his mind, Adam knew the real reason.

Lucifer falls first Adam falls a lot later.

Of course, there has to be some angst. Alastor eventually works out that Adam is human, and he actually manages to kidnap Adam.

And I'll leave it there. It's basically dark fantasy- but it's not too dark! I promise!

Ima right a little bit- feel free to join if this interests you 😫😫

---

Lucifer trudges through a thick forest. The trees are suffocating. Everything made Lucifer feel uneasy, like he's being watched. But he needs to be here. He needed to find it.

The forest was so quiet, but Lucifer could sometimes hear the snapping and crushing of dead wood. The sound was all around him, sometimes far away, sometimes close.

Looking up, he could barely see the sunlight, but small beams were able to penetrate the trees, illuminating the way in front of him.

He heard the breaking of branches and trees again. This time, he could also hear the heavy falls of hooves.

He managed to duck behind a fallen log when, in the distance, he finally saw what he had been looking for; a white unicorn. It was beautiful. It's furr glistening and looked so unbelievably soft. Lucifer could see its golden eyes from here.

Lucifer was brought out his trance as his vision was assaulted by a giant, red flaming deer. Its huge antlers smashed through ancient trees, its hooves crushed vegetation, and killed small animals that were too slow to get out of the way.

He recognized the creature instantly, a minion of the Red King Alastor. The bastard manipulated his father, lying about Lucifer. His father made Alastor King.

He needed that unicorn before the Deer got it.

He sprinted off after them. Lucifer didn't have a plan, but he knew he had to do something to the Red Deer. That fucker was going to make Lucifers plan difficult.

Finally, Lucifer made it to a large clearing. But in front of him was a large, jagged cliff. The fall would kill anything, even a unicorn. That's when he saw the deer and unicorn running straight towards the cliff.

While running, he had an idea on how to save the unicorn. He just needed to get a little closer.

As he ram towards them, he could feel the head from the deer. Is wasn't warmth from a fire bit more the air around him reacting to the beast. It's skin looked sick and acidic.

Lucifer yelled some ancient words towards the unicorn. His mother was well versed in magic, so he picked up the arts easily.

With a flash of light, Lucifer saw the unicorn disappear, and the red deer ran off the cliff. But it didn't fall. Instead, it took off to the sky, soon turning to a thick smoke before disbursing.

Lucifer looked from the sky to where the unicorn was. The light is now gone, and left behind is quite surprising to Lucifer. A brown haired man lay in the grass.

Lucifer ran towards him, the clanking of his armor woke the man up.

Lucifer stopped in his tracks as he saw how beautiful the man is. He looked perfect in every way. The only thing that wasn't human about him was the four pointed, golden star on his forehead, where his horn was.

Lucifer unclipped his white cape and quickly covered the man, he didn't look completely aware yet.

But what took Lucifers' breath away was his stunning, golden eyes, that captured the sunlight.

---

Hope that set the scene and made it more interesting for you 😫

Okay- bye!

I haven't seen the movie but man!! Hit me with this! I love Al being the bad guy so much hehe. Bare with me because I will go off script lol 😆

-

Adam could feel the soft grass against his cheek, when did he lay down? He was running away only moments ago and now it was as if he collapsed. But he didn't remember falling.

He felt something get draped over him, so he opened his eyes to see a human man looking at him with equal parts wonder and concern. It had been so long since a human had been this close it freaked him out. He jumped and tried to back away, they killed all his friends and family!

Luicfer: Hey, woah woah woah, it's okay I'm not going to hurt you.

Adam: Says you.

Did that come out of his mouth? Since when could he speak English?

Lucifer grinned, oh good he would be able to talk to him that would make things so much easier. He helped him up into his wobbly two legs.

Two!?

Adam looked down and..... He was human!? What the fuck was this sorcery??

Adam: What did you do to me!?

Lucifer: I saved your life from that deer thing! It was chasing you and..... Well unicorns do exactly fly.

That was Pegasus, another one Alastor was hunting but because they could fly they were a little harder to get.

Adam glared: I know that! Fuck....

He never thought a unicorn would have such colorful language.