#but as i said i am getting further into the rough draft for chapter 2 so the fear is getting to me again

[ganondoodle]

i really need to defeat the fear in my head that i am exactly the kind of villain fan that the vast majority seems to despise and that once it becomes clear im gonna get hunted down like i have been before

[freuleinanna]

trials (and errors) - masterpost

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | AO3

Exiled from the public's eye, young Marisa Coulter is preparing to go and stand trial for adultery. On the other side of Oxford, young lord Asriel Belacqua is preparing to go and stand trial for murder. A lot has been said about how 'as soon as they met, they fell in love'. That is exactly what made the rest of it so hard.

I've posted excerpts from it here, here, here, here and here.

gifs by the absolutely bonkers incredible @tragicotps because i am still in awe you would even do something like that! 💛 | the whole gifset here |

Behind-the-scene stuff includes:

I wanted a scene where, at trial, a question is raised about whether or not Marisa has ever furthered her crimes by trying to get rid of a child before it was born. I had a flashback scene in mind where Asriel offer to go north, for witches have many practices men consider heretic, while Marisa hesitates, but ultimately refuses. I thought it was neat that she had a chance, but didn't take it, because it's her and Asriel's baby that was in question. In the end, I cut it because yikes progressive much, also it just didn't fit in the general flow very well.

I LOVE Marisa and Thorold's interactions. One of the drafts for the last chapter was that they kept meeting by chance, with scarce chances to talk, but that Thorold was Marisa's last thread to Asriel and she kinda missed the old man himself. Thorold's affection for Marisa is !!!!! in my head. It didn't work out, but Thorold became that fateful person to bring Marisa Coulter to life - and to her path.

Another draft for the last chapter included Marisa returning to the Institute OR the Council meeting where she proposes the 'silver cages' and their bullshit benefits. It didn't work out because I never knew what gave her an idea in this case.

I desperately wanted to get Masriel one last meeting. It wasn't too realistic cause their feelings got really rough & hard over the years with blame and stuff, so a softer goodbye wasn't working out. If it was, it would be Marisa also returning to the Institute and taking Asriel's office while he's up north. She'd found the first of Lyra's photos. Asriel would have to come and take them upon his return, yada-yada, conversations, but it would be linked to the way she looked at Lyra's photos in Asriel's journal in the series. le sigh

I love the monkey? And the kind of relationship Marisa has with him? It's especially interesting in their youth because the rules haven't been formed yet. Anyways, it's way more fascinating in my head than in the writing but just know that it's good :D

[kd-holloman]

Tips and Tricks Tuesday: Drafting

Sometimes I struggle to come up with what to talk about on Tuesdays because as a new self-published author, I feel like I’m not “qualified” to talk about the trials and tribulations that come with being an author. I am still figuring this whole thing out, after all.

However, I don't need to talk about being an author. I can talk about being a writer, because being a writer is something I know very well.

So, without further ado, welcome to …

Tips and Tricks Tuesday! 

Today I want to talk about my drafting process. Please note that I say my drafting process, because all writers are unique and although their process may be very similar, I doubt no two are exactly the same. What works for me may not be what works for you.

In order to make a draft, I have to have something to write about. So, by this point in my process I’ve already nailed down the who, what, when, where, and why of my story. I’ve determined the character(s), which I want to be my narrator(s), if I’m writing in first or third person, and past or present tense. I’ve determined how I want my readers to feel about my story as a whole (and at major plot points) and I’m ready to start drafting.

1. I use my outline as a guide to nail down the major events of the story, but it is not set in stone. 

I’m currently working on the first draft of book three in the MaM Trilogy and have a rough outline. In my head I have somewhat of an idea of where the story is going (major plot points have been set – albeit not in stone) and am ready to roll. Do I love all of the scenes in my outline? 

No, but that’s okay. If I can come up with a better idea that fits and makes more sense, I’ll use that instead of what I have in my outline, but unless I can come up with something that I truly like more than what I have on the page, I’m just going to move forward with it. I can always make changes in my next draft. 

2. I write my first draft and try not to dwell on the little things. 

It’s a first draft. It’s never ever going to be the shiny polished product I want others to read. I don’t dwell on the typos or get choosy about word-choice because the sentence, paragraph, chapter may not even make it into the next draft. 

My main focus is getting the story down and expanding on it from there. 

3. Leave it alone. 

Once my first draft is written I give myself a few days (I try to hold out for two weeks, but it’s pretty tough since I’m not good at letting my mind roam) before looking at it again.

4. Read through, be unbiased but fair, and make comments to myself as I go. 

This is the part that might be hard for a lot of writers. Remember when I said I don’t do any sort of revisions when writing my first draft? That’s because it takes the focus away from just getting the story on the page, but all of those typos? They’re going to be staring right at you. Now, for the sake of time and my own ego, I indulge myself in running the spellchecker before I start my read through. However, if it doesn’t catch it, I don’t take the time to fix it because I’m going to rewrite the whole thing no matter what. 

5. Rewrite it

Aka: The Second Draft

Seriously, I write it again. I’m sure you think I’m nuts when there is a feature to literally move one chunk of text to another document, but hear me out. If there are scenes I like and want to fit into my next draft, I pull each document up in a split screen on my laptop and type it. While I do, that is when I screen for typos, select better words, and rearrange paragraphs and sentences. 

6. Leave it alone...again. 

Trust me, I know how exciting it is to finish a draft. It’s so easy to want to scroll right to the top of your document and start reading over. 

Trust me, give it 2-4 weeks. During this time, I start the plotting stages of another project I want to work on. It’s enough to fill my time doing writer-related tasks to keep me from feeling guilty for not writing, but also keeps my hands out of my draft. 

7. Read it again.

This time I’m scanning for any mistakes, but also focusing on the major parts of my story. I want to start hammering in ways to convey emotions so the reader really feels things how I want them to feel. I make note of this for my next draft. I also address what parts need to be moved, re-worked, or tossed out completely. 

8. Write it again! 

Same deal as before: two tabs, I read in one scroll in the other. 

9. Let it sit...but this time, find beta readers.

While I let your third draft marinate, I like to interact with other writers and search for beta readers. I find that offering to swap stories with someone is the most effective way to get beta readers. I’m just careful making sure I don’t overwhelm myself with too many swaps. 

10. Revise

I run through my manuscript (run the spell checker, pick better words, make sure there are no glaring inconsistencies) and once it has my final seal of approval send it to your beta readers. 

11. Repeat as necessary.

I repeat steps 8, 9, and 10 as many times as needed until I feel my story is as perfect as it’s going to get. Then, find myself an editor.

[tryinghuman]

You said you like questions, so here we go <:3 ... I'm curious about your creative process! Sorry if these have been answered before. Long time reader, new Tumblr follower. I tried to go back through the archives.. but it's a lot .-. I know you did a lot of reading about aliens long before TH came to mind, but when you first put pen to paper back on page 1 did you have the whole story mapped out or just a rough idea? How much has the story evolved or changed (or gone off rails) from your initial concept and what's Quazky's favourite human food? Can you tell us a bit more behind-the-scenes of the comic's history through the years?

You said you like questions, so here we go <:3 ... I'm curious about your creative process! Sorry if these have been answered before. Long time reader, new Tumblr follower. I tried to go back through the archives.. but it's a lot .-. 

Sorry ;A;

I know you did a lot of reading about aliens long before TH came to mind, but when you first put pen to paper back on page 1 did you have the whole story mapped out or just a rough idea? 

Yeah, I was pretty clear on most of the characters and their relationships plus the overall story.  Little things changed as I staged scenes like Don was going to be a neighbor of Longus’ but I wanted them to live further apart and meet differently.  Vereveil used to speak and at the very last minute I made him a mute character because I didn’t like his pre-mute attitude or lines.  6 was originally going to be made from Glasner’s DNA and some random Grey, not FJ12 and Pigment.  I changed that really early in development but I can’t remember when.

How much has the story evolved or changed (or gone off rails) from your initial concept 

Not much.  The chapter 2 flashback I wrote a few different ways since it’s the first time chronologically you meet Phillis.  In one she was part of the recovery team of EBE1 and his craft, another she was on the tarmac of Area 51 watching the recovery vehicles come in, and the last (the one I went with) she was working and Walter came to get her.  As ‘exciting’ as the first ones were, I didn’t like having her so far from inside the base.  She’s sort of fused with the base’s identity in the final draft so I didn’t want the readers to see her with autonomy separate from that location.

Brevis being more sympathetic and anti-war was a little bit of a late addition. He didn't really have a personality beyond this lost romantic interest of Longus. When I expanded Longus' backstory and Brevis had speaking lines, I started fleshing out his character more.

and what's Quazky's favourite human food? 

Skunk.  But maybe bacon like his brother?

Can you tell us a bit more behind-the-scenes of the comic's history through the years? 

I started writing it when I was 14 but it really doesn’t resemble what TH is now.  Roger wasn’t a character, it had no scope, scale, or villain.  Hue, Shade, and Tone were the only Greys and they weren’t even Greys; they were like this hybrid experiment and they all had emotions.  Tone was more like who Don is now and had a skateboard.  It was a dark time.  

I re-wrote it (or basically created it over from scratch) while I was finishing college.  I learned more about the breadth of Ufology and wanted to include more species and locations so it just kept spiraling out from there.  I keep learning new and niche UFO stories with one-shot unique aliens that I’d like to include in future side stories.

In fact, as far as future ‘history’ is concerned, that’s where I am right now: writing a lot of side content for soon-to-be comics that take place after TH is finished.

[the-al-chemist]

On Reflection - Author’s Notes

The Circle of Khanna may be officially on a week’s hiatus because of @kathrynalicemc’s Lineage Challenge, but Chapter 14 seemed like a good place to take a breath. Not only does this chapter mark the 2/3 point, but it also is the start of a bit of a shift in tone for the story. It is also one of my favourite chapters of Year 6, has gone through a lot of changes since the start of my writing, and had a lot of thought put into it, to the point that there is even concept art!

So, without further ado, welcome to the director’s cut that no one asked for or even wanted! Cut below for spoilers for The Hexley Saga Y6C14: Reflection, and mentions of grief and trauma.

I am not a natural angst writer. The first piece of angsty/dark writing I included for the Saga was Y3C4: The Problem with Penny, and I hated it. But, in the process of writing the scene in which Penny tells Artemis about the night she witnessed the death of her cousin Scarlett, I came up with the idea for a similar scene following the death of Rowan. Originally, the plan was for this scene to echo the first one, but instead of Artemis fetching Penny back from the Room of Requirement, it would be the other way around.

The problem was that this scene didn’t allow Artemis what she really needed to start to move on: a way to come to peace with the guilt she felt over Rowan’s death, a chance to say goodbye, and Rowan’s blessing for her to move on. In the HPHM game, there is the Headboy/Headgirl sidequest that allows the MC to do those things. There is no way that Artemis is Headgirl material, nor did I like the idea of Rowan appearing as a ghost or vision, so I had to come up with an alternative.

The idea of using the Mirror of Erised actually came to me before the Mirror of Erised TLSQ was dropped, but I have taken this scene as my compulsory nod to this sidequest. It fitted my idea perfectly - Rowan alive and well and forgiving is exactly what Artemis would see in the Mirror of Erised, the Mirror canonically is kept in the Room of Requirement, and Artemis does require this moment.

There was only one problem with including the mirror: Penny. Because, as much as I adore Penny, she would not be able to focus on Artemis as soon as the Mirror came into play. The scene would shift to what Penny saw in the Mirror of Erised, and that wasn’t what was needed here.

The focus had to stay on Artemis and Rowan’s reflection in the Mirror, and there was only one character who could allow that here, because there was only one character who would be able to stand next to Artemis (just stand there and be with her, even in what is arguably her lowest moment ever) in front of the Mirror of Erised and not realise that this was not just any old mirror. That character was, of course, Charlie.

After deciding to include Charlie instead of Penny, the scene began to take shape in my mind. It gave me a choreography, because Charlie had to have his back towards the Mirror whilst Artemis was shouting at him, and it meant that Artemis could get to a far darker place and still be able to be brought back from the brink. It allowed for her to really let out every bit of rage and the tears, and thereby start to allow herself to heal. I drew the concept art that night, and wrote a very rough draft the scene down immediately after, until I eventually fell asleep at around 3am.

The scene was inspired by three things, all of which are referenced in the concept art:

Chapter 12 of Harry Potter and the Philosopher’s Stone, in which Harry discovers the Mirror, and Dumbledore warns him of the dangers of believing in what you see in it.

The song “Landslide” by Fleetwood Mac (I’ve been needing to bite my tongue for months after @gaygryffindorgal posted that this song reminds her of Artemis. When I said that the song inspired a chapter of the Saga, this is it!)

The Season 6 episode of Buffy the Vampire Slayer “Grave”, specifically this scene, also known as “The Yellow Crayon Speech”, in which Xander brings Willow back from the point of complete destruction, just by offering his stoic and unconditional love and friendship.

The scene also references Lewis Carroll’s Alice in Wonderland (the book Artemis reads to Rowan, chosen partly for because it was previously referenced in Y2C3: The Black Quill, and partly because the specific line I took from the book is very fitting to this moment), and Sally Rooney’s Normal People (specifically the moment in which Marianne asks Connell who his best friend is, and he simply replies “you are”, and then I start ugly crying). It is probably the scene that made me want to keep writing this story when I got to the point of being so emotionally exhausted that I nearly gave up - which happened several times, like I say, I don’t do well with angst - and I’m incredibly proud of it. So I just wanted to tell you all about it.

As always, thank you for reading, and sorry for going on.

Al x

Links:

LANDSLIDE

THE YELLOW CRAYON SPEECH

[megarywrites]

👻🌙🌧️

thank you!!

👻 ghost | can you tease some wip ideas that have been haunting you/something you want to write in the future?

do you mean my entire series? lmao that'd take too long, i can talk about some of the others tho I really think it'd be fun to do a fantasy murder mystery...like, Agatha Christie style. I've never written a murder mystery though but it is my favorite genre outside of fantasy so....someday... I've had this idea for a haunted circus that I'd love to weave into the framework of Dracrie someday...orginially I was gonna have be set in like 1910-1920 Coney Island, but I'd really like to have all of my books set in Dracrie so I'll just have to adapt it to fit Another idea that i would l o v e to write is about a creepy forest. I already have the perfect place in Dracrie for it (there's a rainforest in Woji that is chock-full of fantastical plants) so now I just have to conjure up a plot for it lol the last one I can think of atm is I'd love to do Jane Austen adaptations, but set in Jou'eou. it just sounds like a fun challenge, but who knows when the fuck I'll get to it lmao

🌙 moon | do any of your OCs have dark backstories or secrets they’re trying to keep?

for Seafoam, there are several lurking secrets, and they'll all get revealed in time, but I don't want to get too spoiler-y lol the ones who have the biggest secrets are Solera, Sosta, Geros, Cilia, and Omero, but where I am right now in the draft, only Omero's has been fully revealed (and dealt with)

🌧️ rain | share a sad or emotional scene from your wip!

okay this i have in spades for Seafoam lol this is from Chapter 2 Rocks jutted out of the sea, scattered a little ways out. Further than I had ever swam. Pa never let me go out too far without him. Said it was too dangerous. “Did—” I started to ask, my voice cracking in my throat. “Did anyone else get thrown overboard?”  Zeno was quiet for a moment. I didn’t look away from the furthest rock I could see. There was a little tree growing on it, despite the raging sea.  “No. Just your father.”  “Wasn’t there anything—” My throat tightened, speech becoming impossible. Zeno grabbed my hand in both of his, the rough calluses almost soothing, in a way. “Thala, I’m so sorry.” My head bowed, my shoulders shook as tears overcame me once more. The waves churned around me, around us. If it hadn’t been for Zeno pulling me into a tight embrace, I might have let the sea sweep me away. Carry me off to a distant land, where I would forget all about this pain.  In fact, I would have welcomed it.  His hands rested on my neck and back, holding me close. “It’ll be alright. I’m here.” He turned his head, pressing the lightest of kisses to my hair. “I’ve got you.”

send me autumn asks?

[redhawtriot]

Baby Boom (Bakugou x Reader)

Sooo... I think It’s the size of my tag list that was fucking this chapter up so much! Every time I have more than my previous chapter had, this chapter deletes itself from my page/drafts! I’ve contacted Tumblr about it, but don’t cross ur finger’s on that one lol. I am sorry if you weren't able to make the list!

(If you beta read for me you could read the chapters up to an entire day ahead of every else tho! If ur interested in that, just inbox me!)

HnM

Tip Jar ☕- Not expected but always appreciated💞

Month 1, Month 2 , Month 3,

--Month 4--

‘SLAM!’

The front door crashed shut like ammunition through cannon fire. The sharp bang clapped and echoed throughout the small, otherwise quiet living space, and soon, three roommates filed out of their respective rooms. One by one, they inched out to get a glimpse of the oncoming storm: Hurricane Katsuki.

Denki warily removed his gaming headpiece as Bakugou whipped past his bedroom door, “Oh hey, Bakugou! You sure disappeared outta nowhere. We coulda used the backup in squads! Where’d ya go, man!?” 

The others listened carefully for the explosive blond’s answer, but got nothing short of an insult in return,

“None of your business, you damn idiots. GO DIE ALREADY!” and with that, Hurricane Katsuki simply slammed the door shut-- somehow even louder than before.

Kaminari, who had gotten the brunt of the explosion, was left wide eyed,

“Woah…”

Sero gave a low whistle as he shook his head at Bakugou’s shut door, “Looks like a wild Teenage Bakugou has entered the chat.”

Denki gave an abrupt, slightly uncomfortable chuckle at the remark, but soon gulped, giving his roommates a concerned gaze, “So… should we…” he trailed off.

Kirishima fervently nodded, stepping fully out into the hallway, “I’ll go check on him, guys.” He flexed before making his way to Bakugou’s room—a nervous habit he had picked up somewhere along the line to reassure himself before he dived headfirst into rough situations.

He looked back to his other two roommates one last time and threw a pleading glance as if to say “Wish me all of the luck” before giving a few slight knocks to the rage-secreting room, “Bakugou,” he called out, “You okay, buddy? I know that there is something up. There’s no point in hiding it…we can talk?”

No answer.

Kirishima gave a long sigh, “Well, when you finally want to talk about it, you know where to find me...” 

The other roommates sighed as well before both retreating to their rooms and shutting their doors. Kiri turned to make his way back to his room as well, but only made it a few feet before Bakugou’s door sharply yanked open a few inches.

“Where are those other idiots?” Bakugou’s eyes were redder than their usual vermilion as he glared out from the cracked doorway. Kirishima gave a thick blink in surprise. Had he… had he been crying?

“They back in their rooms?” Bakugou said very lowly. His voice had an extra hint of raspiness weighing it down, Kirishima noticed.

“Y-Yeah.” Eijirou quickly replied, startled by the unseemly sight of his best friend, “They’re prolly back on the game by now.” Bakugou did not say another word as he threw his door open a few more inches and marched deeper into his room to stiffly throw himself on the edge of his bed. Kirishima cautiously followed him-- this was as good of an invitation as any in ‘Bakugou language.’

Bakugou sat, glaring seriously at the floor in front of him, as if it offended him, and his leg bounced nervously. The red head uncomfortably cleared his throat. ‘Holy shit, what the hell is going on…?’  Kirishima had never seen him do that before, “You.. uh.. you wanna talk about it, buddy?”

No answer.

Kirishima waited a few beats before releasing another sigh and shutting the door behind him so that he could make his way to the bed. He sat down next to his best friend and simply sat deep in the silence with him. The two waited for what seemed like hours before someone finally spoke up,

“I got a girl pregnant,” Bakugou said very flatly, still glaring at the floor and bouncing his leg.

Kirshima had to stifle the choke that erupted out of his throat as his own saliva sneaked into his larynx, “Ack! Achkaka!” His natural bodily functions were completely forgotten as his brain tried to compute the sudden and drastic information that was just thrown at him.

Bakugou?? Pregnant? He never thought he would hear the words in the same room, let alone the same sentence! The guy hardly ever did anything but work, work out and come home to play video games. He didn’t converse with people. He didn’t get girls pregnant. Girls didn’t even look at him!

In his coughing fit, Kirishima’s speech was also forgone, “I-I- uh.. man that.. wow I…” he tripped and tumbled over his words. He was dreaming. He had to be. Well, either that or he had wandered into some strange episode of the Twilight Zone or something.

Bakugou’s glare at the floor intensified, “I thought she might not be so bad… but I didn’t want to be with her like this,” Kirishima’s eyes widened at the underlying tone of hurt buried under his friend's words, and then they widened even further once he realized what he just said.

Had Bakugou fallen for someone for the first time?? And then his eyes widened the furthest as things finally began to click within his confused mind.

He sucked into a sharp gasp, “You mean that model!?”

Bakugou simply scoffed, finally relieving his glare form the ground and focusing his hot gaze on Kirishima, “Yeah, turns out she’s actually a fucking bitch.”

Kirishima’s jaw dropped, “BAKUGOU! That’s the mother of your child! You shouldn’t—”

“She didn’t remember the night at all. I was just another fuck toy for her,”  Bakugou stood up and clenched his fists over and over again as if they itched to be slammed against something—tears welling up in his red-hot eyes, “Now tell me if the roles were reversed, how shitty it’d be then, huh?” Kirishima immediately shut his mouth from speaking up anymore as he allowed his friend to release his feelings. It wasn’t often that Bakugou built up enough to let things out this way.

Bakugou scoffed again as he began pacing the room, but Kirishima swore that it had the hint of a cry layered within it somewhere, “they might not even be mine since she likes that ‘fuck toy shit’ so much. That night meant nothing to her…” he threw his arm against the wall, effectively tearing a hole into it

Kirishima jumped a bit from the action as his mind briefly wandered to the security deposit on their lease. He pushed these thoughts away as Bakugou stiffly returned to the bed, his leg bouncing even more fervently than before.

Kirishima simply watched for a moment to allow his friend to simmer down before he spoke up very softly, “But you think it is yours though…”

Bakugou’s eyes snapped up to Kirishima’s, whose eyebrows were furrowed deeply into each other as he stared back.

In all his years of knowing Katsuki Bakugou, Kirishima would have never described his best friend with anything even resembling ‘gullible.’ His gut feeling and instinct were as sharp as ever and hardly ever wrong,

“Must be for a reason then…” he tried to look past the tears that filled up within his best friends eyes but they still left his heart feeling a little heavier than usual,  “If you think it’s yours then I’ll have your back no matter what buddy. You’re not alone in this.”

“They.”

“What…” Kirishima eyebrows folded toward the center of his expression.

“She’s having fucking twins.”

“Holy Sh…” Kirishima quickly swallowed his words as he took in the forlorn expression plastered onto his friend’s face. There was no room for him to be shocked right now. He had to be Bakuous ‘rock’ so to speak, “I-I mean congratulations!”

Meanwhile you found yourself studying the woman in the reflection of your mirror. Your eyes trailed every detail of her swollen, red eyes. Then to her hair that was fuller than you had remembered—the beauty of bottled color maybe? You danced over the way that loose strands stuck to the slimy mess of tears and mucosa that had accumulated on your cheeks.

Nasty.

A sharp chuckle came out of you, spittle following not too shortly after, but as it reached your ears it resembled more of a cry.

Okay, that’s enough self loathing for one lifetime.

And with that, you moved away from the mirror; however, as you did so, your sight basically smacked the open cabinet of liquor bottles that you were eyeing earlier.

Okay…. Maybe not quite enough self loathing. Your mouth began watering at the delectable sight. It was a desert after a delicious four course meal.  There was always room for more…

With a shake of your head, you brought your hand up to smack these thoughts out of your mind. What was wrong with you? You had been a lot of things in life, but were you really so low to bring yourself to effectively murdering your own children?

That’s what would happen if you drank, right?

You loudly groaned as more tears slipped from your eyes. You really didn’t know shit when it came to this pregnancy thing.

Your mind briefly wondered to Baby Notes Vol 1. You should probably take the time to actually read through it a little. Skimming it wouldn’t kill you.

Physically.

The sudden pounding at your door snapped you almost immediately out of your thoughts.

“Y/N?? Y/N, it’s me!”

With a final pathetic sigh you found yourself gathering up all the alcohol from the cabinets that you could into your arms and placing them in the bathtub before jotting over to the door.

As soon as you opened it Deku barged in and gripped you softly,  “I came as soon as you called! What’s up, what's wrong?! Are you okay??” His eyes frantically danced around your wet eyes and red sockets before he allowed them to roam all over you, checking for injury.

He wouldn’t ever think that Kacchan was the type of guy to put his hands on you, especially with how much he’s grown since high school, but the nagging voice in the back of Izuku’s mind fervently reminded him of all of the bruises and burns and numberless emotional scars he accumulated with he was quirkless from his childhood friend.

And here was a woman he deeply cared about-- quirkless—having to spend time alone with said childhood friend.

“What’s wrong??” Izuku found himself repeating as his hands mindlessly wiped the fluid from your cheeks. As soon as he committed the action, however, his face ran completely red and he quickly released you from his grip, so that he could get a grip of himself.

You didn’t notice his slip up, and if you did you sure as hell didn’t care at the moment. There were more pressing matters at hand. Two to be exact, “Twins,” you simply said to him as tears began flowing down your cheeks more furiously.

“Huh? Oh… Oh.” Izuku’s eyes went wide as your words sunk in. As soon as he threw you an obviously apologetic glance you threw yourself into his chest and sobbed throwing him a bit off guard as he barely caught you in his arms.

Izuku’s eyes nervously roamed around your home as if he were searching for the right thing to say to you, but as he made contact with an open pantry in your kitchen, his jaw dropped-- your alcohol pantry.

It was far less full than it had been the last time that he visited, “Y/N… What’s with the… have you been drinking?” he pulled you away from his chest and looked seriously into your eyes.

The sight honestly kind of scared you a little—like a 15-year-old being caught with their first beer-- that is, until you remembered that you were innocent as fuck, “No,” you gave a slight chuckle through your tears at the sudden surge of intimidation, “I need your help getting rid of it.”

You walked away from Izuku for a moment, leaving him confused and a bit wary of where this was going, until you returned with a hammer—leaving him even more concerned,

You were aiming for bad ass Harley Quinn vibes, but you were sure that with a dried trail of tears on your cheeks and the force smile splitting your face you came across like more of a psycho ass Harley Quinn. Furthermore, the look on Deku’s face screamed that you were correct (also it screamed ‘GET THIS GIRL IN A STRAIGHT JACKET!’).

“What are you gonna do with THAT?” Izuku squealed.

“I need to get my favorite bottles out of the house. Stat. and you're gonna help me.” At your words, Deku gave a gigantic sigh of relief, but still kept his eyes glued on the hammer in your hands. You noticed and shrugged a bit, “Smashing things is also really cathartic. I am sure you of all people can agree with that.”

“Heh… Yeah. But are you sure this is okay? I mean, I don't want to raise your blood pressure or anything because--”

“Deku. Less talk, more smash,” you threw a towel in your tub to make clean up a little easier, and so you didn't knock a chunk of tile on your bathtub. You gave Deku one last glance. He was still looking very uncertain, but you threw him a short smile before bringing the hammer down onto a bottle of tequila. The bottle instantly shattered, sending bits of glass throughout your tub. You looked up to give Deku an excited glance, and surprisingly, he returned one right back.

“See? Not so bad!” 

But you spoke too soon as the scent kicked you in the fucking nose. It was too far to turn back now. You choked down your nausea and handed Deku the Hammer, “You go ahead and get started. I’ll go get another weapon-- I mean… tool,” you corrected yourself after he sent you a terrified stare.

As you made your way back to the after grabbing your second weapon-- I mean tool a sudden thought crossed your mind. Without hesitation, you pulled your phone out and dialed in,

“Hello?”

“Yes. How may I help you today?” Dr. Yamakawa sounded from the other line.

“It’s Y/N…Y/N L/N…” you trailed off, hoping that you wouldn't have to say the ‘p word’ or anything relating to it.

His old ass better take the hint. To your dismay, his old ass did not take the hint, and a long pause of awkward silence filled the air.

You pursed your lips together in annoyance, “Mama Bakugou,” you clarified through gritted teeth, still dancing around the fact that you were a maternity patient of his.

“Ohhhhh!” He exclaimed, causing your face to fall into an expression of disappointment as he continued, “What can I do for you, Mama Bakugou?!”

This mf. You internally ground and fought the urge to facepalm, “Well. I need you to write a doctors note for me.”

“For…?”

“Work?”

“For your pregnancy? Dear, why don’t you just take maternity leave for that?”

“No.” In the moment you shook your head even knowing that he couldn't see you,  “I need a few weeks more before I can tell my job about this… situation. I’m a model. They own me through a contract and I didn't exactly add two roommates to the lease on my body...”

There was a pause on the other line, causing your heart to lurch a bit, but things soon went back to normal when he finally spoke up, “I’ll see what I can do. I’ll email you something.”

You gave one final thanks (and an internal ‘yessss’) before making your way back to the bathroom, “Hey Deku, sorry it took me so long I was just--” you froze at the sight in front of you. The shirt that Izuku wore was completely drenched in liquid and your tub had a gigantic hole on the side.

Your lips fumbled over themselves as you gawked at the spectacle. Deku could only send you a nervous laugh,

“Uh, hahaaa… Can we be done now? This… this burns,” he rapidly blinked the liquid from his eyes as he glances back down to the lot of broken bottles in your tub before throwing your one more pleading glance.

You choked down a laugh, causing it to flee from you in the form of a snort, “Someone had some pent up aggression, huh?”

In response, his face delved into a deep shade of red, “I.. uh..” he had no idea how to answer you when you looked at him like that-- your lips curved into a stunning smirk of a smile. Izuku promptly cleared his throat, “C-can I take a shower?”

“Obviously not that one-- you're totally fixing that by the way Mr. Big Shot Hero,” with a laugh you swiftly made your way to him and carefully grabbed the hammer from his grasp, looking up to see his face dive even deeper into crismon. You flashed a smile at the display. He really was adorable as hell.

You took in his face bit by bit-- his soft, blushed skin, his freckles cheeks, his round eyes. As you digested his expression you swore you could see an entire forest within his stare. Suddenly your heart pinged.

“Uh, Y/N,” Izuku interrupted your thoughts, causing your heart to throb for a different reason as you suddenly realized the proximity of the two of you. You stepped back so fast that your head spun. At least, you hoped that was why your head was spinning,

“You can use my shower.” you said very abruptly as you turned away from him,gesturing him to follow you to your bedroom.

Your bedroom. Your hear throbbed once more. Deep down, you hoped that you were about to have a heart attack or something; however, something  within you told you that that probably was not the case. You swallowed hard.

What the fuck was happening?

‘KNOCK kNOCK KNOCK’

The next morning you found yourself stirring awake to a loud succession of banging. Your eyes fluttered open for a moment only before they snapped back shut. The magnet drawing them together and you closer to sleep was much stronger than whatever noise was trying to wake you up, “Mhmfmfm…” you muttered as you rolled over on the couch and pulled the blanket over your head.

Izuku, however, was not one to ignore such an obvious noise and he found himself trudging off of the other sofa he slept on to answer whoever was banging on the door.

‘KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK!’

“Coming!” the green haired man tiredly called out as he launched himself toward the front door and swung it open.

The astounded face on the other side of the entrance soon mirrored his own.

“Kacchan!” Izuku exclaimed.

Bakugou’s shocked expression very quickly contorted into one of pure rage, “What the hell is going on here?!” He screamed causing you to jolt awake as you threw the blanket over your head. You found yourself fumbling up as Bakugou continued to scream pointed to Deku, “The fuck is he here for??”

You made your way over to the two men- one seemingly terrified, and the other obviously enraged. As your head began lifting from the daze of sleep, you crossed your arms and glared at Bakugou, “He spent the night helping me with something,” you shook your head, trying to free yourself from the oncoming headache, “Hey, better question: why are you here?”

Bakugou seemed to swallow his own tongue as his jaw clenched shut, “I wanted to… uh…” he glared at the ground as he tried to find his next words. Shit. why was this so fucking hard? He should have never listened to that Shitty Hair and come over here. Bakugou scoffed to himself before redirecting his stern gaze back toward you, “Come with me.”

You could only blink.

What kind of caveman talk…You tilted your head as you fleetingly threw a confused glance toward Deku, who only shrugged in response.

Bakugou quickly grew tired of yours and Dekus silent conversation, “You wanna hang out or not??” he growled before throwing another heated finger toward Deku,  “And he can’t come.”

“I was just heading out anyways. It’s no big deal really!” Izuku defensively threw his hands up as if to show Bakugou that he was no threat at all. He went to gather a few of his belongings from the sofa he slept on before throwing Bakugou one more gaze-- this one a lot more astute.

A majority of Midoriya’s mind told him that there was nothing to worry about at all, but there was still a small section of him that couldn't shake the memories of how Bakugou treated him as a quirkless child. Izuku knew that he would never hurt you! But… just in case…

“You take care of her Kacchan,” the tone came off pleadingly but the look in his eyes was a  bit stern. You had never seen this portion of Deku before and it almost instantly caused your chest to thud, harshly reminding you of last night’s sensations. Shit.

“Don't tell me what the fuck to do, Deku. Those are my kids in there. Not yours. You just remember that,” Bakugou scoffed, causing Izuku’s expression to falter ever so slightly before he fixed it again.

Your jaw dropped at the sheer bluntness of his statement, “Kacchan, what the f--”

“I guess you’re right, Kacchan,” Izuku began, “Sorry if  I crossed a boundary,” he smiled at Bakugou-- who only huffed in return-- and quickly turned to you, making the tightness in your chest worse, “Bye, Y/N!” Izuku smiled, almost too innocently, considering the raging war in your gut at the moment.

You smiled back-- a feeble attempt at masking the inner turmoil ravaging your insides. “Peace, bb,” you gave him a weak hug before gesturing him out of your home. You threw him one final smile before shutting the door. You instantly whipped your head back around the the blonde brat behind you, “What. The. Fuck!?”

“I already told you. I want to hang out.”

“Are you fucking allergic to texting or some shit??” you yelled, “You just waltz in like you own the damn place and demand me to ‘Ohhh ahhh wo-man! come with me, wo-man’,” you renacthed his prehistoric behavior. 

Bakugou felt his muscles tighten in response to your taunting. Your loud nature, mixed with the confrontational behavior was reminding him way too much of his own mother. He swore on his life that he would never end up with  a woman like her and yet, here he was standing in front of her fucking carbon copy. The thought made him sick as he groaned in frustration,

“Shitty hair was fucking wrong!” Bakugou spat, causing your eyebrows to furrow in confusion as he continued, “The last thing I want to do is hang out with a bitching hag like you!!”

Your jaw dropped, “Excuse me??” You have heard pretty much every other insult in the book hurdled at you, but ‘hag’ was never one of them. You laughed, “I wasn’t a hag when you fucked me all night, huh?!”

“Yeah? I don't know what was wrong with me then. You are way different when I am not pumped full of alcohol, apparently.”

Your laughter immediately ceased, “Whatever. you came up to me and confessed your love like a raging SIMP, and now all of a sudden I’m a bitch?

“Fuck! Well, I got to know you past a pretty, stupid, fucking face!”

You blinked in shock. The unfamiliar feeling of your heart sinking into the pit of your stomach overwhelmed you as hurt surrounded your face. Practically your entire life, being beautiful has been a mask of sorts for your overwhelming failures. Still, here this man was-- practically a stranger-- seeing past your facade, looking directly into the steaming pile of shit that you truly were. Your eyes suddenly became warm as tears filled them,

“Then why the fuck are you even here, asshole?? TO PISS ME OFF?” you shouted, throwing your hands by your side and clenching them so tightly that your nails dug into your skin.

“BECAUSE  I WANTED TO KNOW ALL OF YOU!” he screamed back. The shocking words fled out from under his harsh tone and stunned you as your brain processed them. You felt your fist unfurl a bit as he continued, “I wanted to know you. Good and bad. Bitchy and not. You're carrying my children… I want to know them,” he finished, almost defeated. This tell of emotion was obviously the last thing he wanted to be doing, you could tell.

Still, it meant a  lot for some reason that he felt that he could do this with you “Oh,” you breath out, unable to articulate much else.

“Oh?!” he angrily repeated. Bakugou felt his face shrivel in disgust. He just poured out his being to you once more for you to trample on it like a fucking gymnast mat. However, as Bakugou formed his mouth to say something else, you halted him,

“Go… have a seat,” you gestured to the couch, blinking the accumulating liquid in your eyes away. The blond could only shoot a lone eyebrow up in response, causing you to sigh in exasperation,  “Well, Are you just gonna stand there looking like that, or what?” he gave you one final scoff before making his way to one of your couches and seating himself comfortably, propping one of his feet on your coffee table as he glared at the non functioning television.

“Welcome, I guess. I am sure you’ll have no issue making yourself comfortable,” you deadpanned, eyeing his propped up legs,  “I’ll go make us some… tea?” you suggested , but no answer came from him, “Tea it is.”

You rolled your eyes before trudging away. You always loved green tea, but for some reason the smell had been killing you lately, so you opted for peppermint tea instead. It was inferior by, far, but it matched the inferior, pathetic life that you had adopted recently.

Jeez. How much self deprecation can you fit into one week? Would this have any effect on the babies? If so, they’d probably come out singing RnB or some shit in the maternity ward. They’d have already stressed dyed hair and an entire Tumblr dedicated to sad aesthetics before they reached their first birthday, for god's sake.  

You vehemently shook your head to once again get rid of the oncoming headache that snuck in with these disgusting thoughts, “So Kacchan!” you called out as you walked back to the living room, “What do you wanna know?”

“Don’t call me that,” he simply barked.

“What?”

“Don’t call me that name. I fucking hate it.”

You snorted and took a seat next to his glaring figure. You tried not to notice how he shifted further away from you as you sat down, “I am sure Deku disliked being called worthless his whole life too,” you smirked up at him, “I bet he fucking hated it.”

The atmosphere seemed to once more shift into a much heavier tone after your statement and the room fell quiet for a few beats. Bakugou’s small glare morphed into a much more forced one. It was as if he was trying to use the glare to hide another feeling, you noticed.

Finally, he spoke, “How much do you know.”

You tilted your head into another shrug, “Enough to know that you probably hate the fact that I am quirkless.”

His face contorted into one of pure disgust as the glareful mask he wore faded away like yesterday’s lunch.  “I don’t give a fuck,” he argued, but the look you sent him showed no sign of believing it. Bakugou’s disgust deepened, but he made sure to control it enough to where you didn't know that it was directed towards himself.

“Oh really? Let’s see if you can keep that same energy when one of your kids pops out without that flashy quirk of yours,” Of course his face fell, just as you suspected it would. Just like it had for multiple other men you had told.

Most men’s pride utterly shrivels into dust as soon as the pretty girl in front of them-- the one that they fantasize about having a dream life with-- ends up telling them that they are quirkless. As soon as the words fall out of your mouth, the men's dreamy gaze effectively shatters alongside their hopes and dreams concerning you.

Nobody wants to pass weakness onto their children.

“You know what? I think I’ll go first,” you snapped him out of the uncomfortable, uncharacteristic silence, and he gave you an irritated, questioning glance, “You wanted to play 20 questions with me, or whatever. No limitations, okay? And I have the first question for you,” you explained before sending him a challenging gaze, “How could someone so full of hate truly aspire to be a hero?”

You expected him to blow up at you-- to scream, and yell and argue that you were wrong.

Yet.

The slightly apologetic, yet stern look on his face threw you for an absolute loop, “I wanted to win.” he simply answered. Somehow his matter of a factness was worse for you than any furious defensive scenario you had conjured in your mind, but as you went to open your mouth with a roll of your eyes, he halted you,

“That was when I was younger, “ he sharply clarified, “I wanted to win more than anything. To be better than everyone else—and that hasn’t changed but there's more to it now. I have to protect the people I care about—like my idiot roommates—I want to make sure we all come home safe by the end of the night.”

Once again he had thrown you off with a surprisingly normal non-caveman response, “That was actually…”

“My turn,” Bakugou abruptly cut you off, “How many men the you fuck this past few months?”

Your jaw dropped. 

And back to Neanderthal you mother fucking guess! “Are you fucking kiddin—”

“You said no limitations,” he gruffly stated.

You bit your tongue and shot him a glare that could match his own before giving a sharp sigh, “Four during the last year. You were the last and the only one during the month I… conceived,” you swallowed as the word left a bitter taste in your mouth, “My turn. What about you?”

“What.”

“How many women the past year?”

“Why the hell does it matter?” Bakugou argued. Your eyes shot down to his body as it shifted around even further from you. From his body language you could tell that his answer was sure to be outrageously high.

He was an extremely attractive guy after all. Those rippling arms were nothing to fuck around with. His red hot eyes could melt steel beams with a passing glance. The chisel of his permanently hardened expression could slice through even the most secured of panties. 

Yes. and there was no denying that he was a sex god in his own right.

It also didn't help that his temperament sucked, so you doubted he had had many long term relationships. He had all of the ingredients of a man whore stirring within him.

“I’m just curious,” you shrugged.

Bakugou threw his glare away from you for a moment as he contemplated on whether or not to answer your stupid question. He had his own questions to ask you still so he guessed that he didn't really have a choice if he wanted his answers,“...One.”

Your jaw dropped, “Seriously?” as his face fell into a furious shade of red you were smacked with a sudden realization,

“Kacchan, did you... lose your virginity to m...?” He glared even further away from you, but you could still see his ears falling even deeper into red-- effectively giving you your answer, “Oh my…” he trailed off. No wonder he was so fucking head over heels for you! Through your discomfort a horribly timed joke flew past your lips, 

“You knocked her up on the first try huh? You’ve got some super swimmers,” you half laughed, but Bakugou obviously didn't find anything funny about it as he snarled angrily as you,

“Shut up!” he barked, throwing a pillow at you, “My turn. What’s up with you and that shitty Deku?”

The pillow hit you, but it was really his question that had smacked you in the face. Your chest thudded, and you prayed to whoever was listening that he couldn't see the racing of your heart, “He’s just a friend! A really good friend to me. Probably my first actual friend ever,” you said this as a joke, but obviously forgot who you were talking to.

“You didn’t make any in high school?” Bakugou’s face twisted up disbelievingly.

“Never went. Couldn’t afford the tuition...” now it was you who was uncomfortably shifting from him. 

“Your parents didn’t help you out?”

“Slow down there, buckaroo,” you laughed, but his face remained as stern as ever as you continued, “That’s like three questions In a row for you. My turn.”

Luckily he caught the hint and didn't press upon the subject any further.

Through the night, you found out a lot of things about him. He was actually younger than you by a few years at twenty years old. His parents were both fashion designers (probably the biggest fucking shock to you considering his choice of black shirts and flannels) and that he was working on making his own hero agency since he had already climbed up the ranks in Japan.

Your game, however, was cut short by the growling of your stomach.

Bakugou almost immediately stood up, surprising you as he walked to your kitchen. Well, you did say ‘make yourself at home’ but this was a little upfront wasn't it? He soon yelled to you from the kitchen as you sat in shock still, “What do you have to eat in this shit hole?!”

Shit hole? You glance around at the decorations and clean atmosphere that you pride yourself on. That jerk. Your house was not a shit hole! “You can eat shit if you want. I’m not hungry.”

“The hell are you talking about? I just heard your stomach growling.”

You shrugged, “Just indigestion. I get a lot of stomach issues with these things inside of me,” the sudden clanging of pots and pan in your kitchen startled you,  “What the hell are you doing??” you called out before marching to your kitchen.

You found him rummaging through your cabinets, stopping momentarily to judgmentally eye your still plentiful liquor cabinet for a moment before moving on, “You can starve yourself all you fucking want, but you're not fucking starving my kids.”

Your breath hitched in your throat at his accusation, “I’m not starving.”

“You think I’m fucking blind?”

“I have to stay in shape for work. Just like you I am sure,” you walked up to him and grabbed a bicep for demonstration, but he quickly threw your hand away from him as his face fell into a bout of shock. He quickly regained himself,

“Whatever,” he grunted before swinging open your refrigerator.

“What are y—Hey!” you yelped as he began haphazardly throwing food onto one of your counters.

“Is all you have in here rabbit food? Jesus fucking Christ,” he ignored your cries and began throwing certain items together and heating up a pot of water.

You couldn't help but blink at the display. He seemed pretty natural in the kitchen and that in itself was unnatural considering his caveman persona, “You... cook?” you felt uneasy.

“You don’t?”

Honestly, your diet consisted of salads and ramen since you were 15, so cooking wasn't a necessity. You reluctantly shook your head at him.

He looked completely disappointed and disgusted with you but, hey, what else is new? Bakugou scoffed, “Well you’re gonna have to learn how now. Pay attention.”

You rolled your eyes at him. If you wanted fucking Gordon Ramsey bitching you around in the kitchen you would have clicked on that stupid ad that always popped up on your Youtube. Then again, Bakugou was more of a Guy Fieri with that spiky hair of his.

Whatever.

You guessed learning how to cook one meal wouldn't be too terrible,  

“What are you stirring the water for if you didn’t put anything in it yet?”

“It helps it heat up faster, idiot.”

“Do you actually throw the noodles on the wall to see if they’re finished?”

Bakugou threw you a frown, “If you’re a fucking dumbass,” he said, moving you aside as he began stirring a saucer filled with vegetables. He completely disregarded your yelp as he moved you as a parade of thoughts bombarded his mind.

He would have to come over more and keep you and his kids fed if you truly didn’t know how to cook. He scoffed and his stirring hand more slightly more erratically with frustration. What kind of grown woman didn't know how to cook pasta?

His thoughts were halted by a loud squelch that sounded through the air. He immediately threw his gaze up to the wall in front of his face and his expression fell at the sight. He growled, snapping his gaze back toward you by the pot of pasta, “WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU?!” his furious glare danced between you and the wet noodle that stuck to the wall.

“I wanted to see if it would actually stick! Don’t get your balls in a twist, it was one noodle!”

“So damn wasteful,” Bakugou ground his teeth as he frustratedly scrapped the starchy pasta off of your wall. He opened his mouth to tell you just this, but immediately snapped it back shut as he felt something being thrown at his head, “that better not be what I think it is…” he snarled through his teeth as he eyed food dangling from one of the spines of his hair.

“Don’t worry, Kacchan. It’s not a worm,” you laughed, but your giddiness was soon cut off as a hot noodle was thrown back in your direction. You could only blink as it stuck itself on your nose.

“Hmph,” the corners of Bakugou’s lips slowly curled into a smirk, “It’s a good look on you, noodle face,” You laughed but once again was cut off. The brief sound of his laugh coinciding with your own shocked you.

His smile slowly died down as he caught wind of you gawking at him. He cleared his throat, “Are you done being a child? I’m ready to enjoy my good ass cooking.”

However, you didn't answer him as you once again found a smile creeping onto your face. He rolled his eyes and began making himself a plate of food, but he quickly grew tired of you smiling at him like some bimbo,

“What?!” He snapped, “You want another noodle to the face.”

You shook your head as you shuffled past him to serve yourself a plate, “No.. just you have a nice laugh.”

He scoffed, “That all you're eating?” he completely disregarded your comment but you decided to let it die too,

“I don’t see you with any food on your plate,” you shrugged, “I’d be more worried about yourself if I were you,” you winked at him before setting down at the table.

The night went pretty well after that. So well, in fact, that the two of you decided to have “parental meetings” every few days so that Bakugou could teach you how to cook. You ended up learning how to make 10 more dishes within the next three weeks.

Bakugou and you didn't exactly become close, but there were far less screaming matches than there had been in your first few meetings. You still didn't know him very well, but he wasn't necessarily a stranger anymore.

It was… nice.

The next check up came very quickly because of your lack of employment and your dates-- err um… “parental meetings” with Bakugou.

“Your twins should be about the size of avocados now! We’ll check again with a routine ultrasound. We do have the DNA tests in for you all so I’ll just go and run for those real quick.. well walk briskly. You don’t do an awful lot of running at my age.”

“I don’t do an awful lot of running now,” you joked, and Bakugou sent you a stern glare that screamed, ‘don’t encourage him.’ you shrugged as the doctor walked out of the room.

It was silent for what seemed like forever. You and Bakugou still weren't very good at sparking conversations, but eventually he spoke up as you laid back on the exam table, “You're really fucking showing now.”

You brows instantly came together, high fiving each other in your state of being roasted, “Thanks...” you deadpanned.

The look on your face sent a wave of hurt through the blond’s heart.

What the hell. It was like he felt your hurt. For the first time in a long time, Bakugou actually regretted his choice of words. He glared at the ground as he attempted to change the subject, “You’ve been eating, right?”

“How else Would I be sitting here, looking fat and talking to you, Kacchan.”

“I told you don’t call me that,” he paused, as if he were really considering his next statement, “Call me Katsuki,” he finally dragged out.

You rolled your eyes, “Okay, Kacchan.”

Just as Bakugou open his mouth the no doubt scream at you, Dr. Yamakawa entered the room, 

“Mama Bakugou! We have some really good news. Everything seems fine with the twins according to the DNA testing. One is a little small right now, but it’s completely normal for there to be a dominant twin so to speak. No genetic abnormalities or health concerns,” you saw Bakgou visibly stiffen at this before relaxing as the doctor continued, “’Cept for you.”

You shook your head, blinking heavily as if you’d just been punched in the brow, “Me?”

“You do have a concerning BMI—you tend to lean a little towards underweight. I understand you are in the profession of modeling correct,” he said very, curtly, “You need to add more calories to your daily intake. You wont need to ‘eat for three” as they say, but you do need to put on some substantial pounds or you will risk a premature birth..”

You had no fucking idea what to say to that. ‘Nice?’ ‘Cool beans.’ ‘fucking just give me the mother of the year award already!’ You felt your chest tighten and suddenly you realized you hadn't been breathing. You sucked in abruptly, causing the doctor to take a step towards you,

“You're looking a little flushed there, Mama Bakugou.”

“Well how else is she supposed to respond when you tell her like that, old man?!” Bakugou snapped, causing both you and the doctor to gawk at him. 

“Kacchan! What the fuck don’t talk to him like that, jerk!”

Bakugou scoffed, throwing his glare, much more pouty this time-- to the jar of cotton balls on the counter of the office.

“It wouldn't help either of you to sugar coat this, son,” the doctor sighed, “You have made it this far along in her pregnancy. Miscarriage is substantially less likely but if you want to give these babies a better chance, I’d suggest higher caloric intake.”

Needless to say, Bakugou did not leave the doctor's office that day a very pleasant man. He would angrily stalk ahead of you a for a few moments before pausing and grumbling about how ‘fucking slow’ you were as you caught up before the cycle would start all over again. You could only take this for so long, however,

“What!?” you yelled suddenly as the grumbling phase of his cycle began once more, “Will you stop fucking brooding already and speak your mind—”

He instantly snapped his face towards your own to stare into your eyes. You fumbled back a bit as the intense vermilion bore into you. You opened your mouth to speak but his serious expression exclaimed something before yours could,

“I wanna move in with you.”

You paused. You couldn't have fucking heard that right.

He… wants to...

“What…?” you mouthed.

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[pixie88]

The Sleepover

Chapter 13 - Always the Bridesmaid.

A/N: I wasn’t planning on releasing another chapter so soon but I’m going away for the weekend and I wanted to get one of my drafts out quick! I push myself with the smut scene hoping it actually reads OK! I hope you like it.

If you would like to be ADDED or REMOVED just let me know! I hate to annoy people with tags.

Read previous chapters HERE!

Warnings: Fluff & NSFW

Word Count: 2178

Pairings: Laila x Harry

Enjoy!

2 Weeks later

Poppy had broken her arm when she fell. With her arm in a cast, Laila had promised she could come over for a sleep over. "Are you sure you don't mind me staying?" he asks Laila for the 100th time today "I'm starting to think you don't want to stay?"

"I do, I just don't want to intrude" he stands in the doorway of the guest room as she makes up the bed "To be honest with ya, I think if you don't stay Poppy won't be happy. She wants to meet you," he smiles "Fine, I'll stay, but do we get to have our own little fun once she's gone to bed?"

She shook her head at him, "If you a good boy," she jokes, as she passes him "Oh, by the way, if Poppy doesn't like you, we are finished" she teases him as she walks away "What?!" he questions. She looks over her should at him "Joking!" she laughs.

He is about to get her back for that when the buzzer goes, Laila buzzes them up "Hey, Lolly Pop! How's your arm?" Poppy sighs, "Still poorly, Auntie Laila. Are you Auntie Laila's boyfriend?" she looks over to Harry, who crouches down to her level "I am! You must be Princess Lolly Pop?" she smiles at him.

"Are you sure you two don't mind having her?" Nikki asks her "We will have loads of fun, won't we Pops? Plus will give you a night off with Lewis at Uni and Erica at her mates. Maybe you and Stu might get an early night" Laila winks at her "Oh, stop it! How are you Harry?" he looks up "Great thanks! You OK?"

"I'm good just looking forward to a kiddie free Saturday night so thank you! Both of you!" Laila smiles at her "Harry, Do you like dressing as a princess?" Poppy asks, "And on that note, I will leave you to it. Love you Poppy and behave yourself!" Nikki warns her before she leaves.

A hour later, Harry is getting his nails painted, Poppy has already done his make up and his hair. Laila laugh "I've never fancied more than I do now! That pink lipstick around the lips brings out your eyes!"

"Poppy, I think Auntie Laila needs a makeover" Poppy looks over to her then back to Harry "No, she has make up on already!" Laila laughs, "I'm going to make dinner Spaghetti bolognese OK?" they both nod leaving them to it.

Once Laila is out of the room Poppy looks over to the kitchen door, then to her bag "I made Auntie Laila this for her birthday. Do you think she will like it?" she pulls out a plastic beaded bracelet from her bag "Her birthday? When's her birthday?" he asks.

"Mummy said it's in 6 weeks," he looks down at her bracelet "I bet she will love it" she's beaming "Really?" he nods, they have never really spoken about birthdays he had his a few weeks before the stag do. His mind has gone into overtime trying to think what to get her.

After dinner and a bath the credits roll on Cinderella. Laila looks down to Poppy who is fast asleep "Harry!" She whispers, he looks over to her "I need to get her into bed," she moves trying not to wake her, she's about to lift her, but Harry stops her "I'll move her, you aren't going to be able to lift a 7 year old"

She rolls her eyes at him "OK, Mr Muscles!" He picks up Poppy with ease and walks towards the spare bedroom with Laila following him. Laila tucks her in and kisses her good night before pulling up the door.

"I'm going for a shower to wash off this make up!" She laughs "But you look gorgeous," she teases him, he pulls her towards him so her body is pressed against his. His hands rest on her curves, her arms go around his neck "Do you want to join me?" He smirks.

"I would love to but I better not just in case she wakes up," he huffs "OK, I won't be long!" He wanders off to the bathroom.

Laila loads the dishwasher before heading to the bedroom to change into her PJs. Harry wanders in with just a towel around his waist and another drying his hair "Film in bed?"she asks as she's undressing.

He smiles at her "We can put one on but I don't plan on watching it" he winks making her blush. He's inches away from her, she runs her fingers through his damp curls.

His lips crash against hers, his short beard is rough against her face as she pushes herself onto her tiptoes, his arms wrap around her waist and he rest his hands on the smalls of her back. Her hands move to the wrapped towel pulling it off, she grasps his stiffened member and he groans against her lip.

Her lips trail over his neck, down his chest until she's on her knees in front of him. Grasping the base, he takes a deep breath, her tongue circles his tip making him groan. She engulfed him with her mouth as she runs her tongue from the base to the tip, his hand tangles in her hair, he gently pulls a little moving her to his pace.

Her hands pressed against the curves of his arse, each time she reaches the tip she sucks against it "Fuck! Laila...that's..!" his hips thrust forward. She looks up at him and their eyes lock, she loves watching him come undone and squirm in front of her. Harry grunts, each thrust move further inside her hitting the back of her throat as her tongue presses against him.

His legs are barely holding him up, his pace quickens as he's riding her lips "Laila..I'm..gonna" it's too late, he jerks as he hits his climax. Laila smirks up at him, he pulls her up claiming her lips with his. His hand comes to the back of her neck while his other slips into her underwear and the pads of his fingers skim over her throbbing centre.

He walks her backwards until she falls onto the bed, not wasting another second he pulls down her underwear. Propping her feet on the bed as he crouches down at the edge.

He hadn't staved his face in over 2 weeks because he remembers how she told him she loved how his facial hair felt against her most intimate areas of her body. Now was the time to test out that theory, he gently kissed her apex before he parted her folds with his tongue, she bit down on her lip trying to keep herself quiet.

He move from the bottom all the way up to her clit, making her struggle to stay silent, her back arches so her spine is barely touching the mattress. His beard brushes over her centre, making her tingle as she bucked her hips.

He pulls her further towards him, throwing her legs over his shoulders. His tongue swirling round her clit before moving inside her again. His finger dig into the top of her thighs as he rolls his tongue over her again and again.

"Oh...shit!" She moans, he smirks against her, he knew she couldn't keep quiet for long. She clutches his hair, moves her hips to match his rhythm. He can tell she's close, so he speeds up his pace, he runs his thumb over her clit as his mouth works inside her.

Her breathing is heavy, her movements become faster "Harry!" She falls over the edge, not even down from her high, his body covers hers as his hard shaft pushes past her entrance.

His lips claim hers, she wraps her legs around his hips, he fully claims her not taking any prisoners.

"Ohh Harry!" His thrusts are hard, her nails dig into his back. His hands move to pull her off her bra, he softly kisses her lips before grazing his teeth down her pulse line to her chest. He sucks against her breath below her collarbone, she giggles "Harry, you're going to leave a mark!"

She feels him smirk "That's the whole point!" He moves back up to her pulse line teasing that he's going to mark her there "Not there! I can't go into work Monday with a hickey"

He chuckles "Fine!" He moves his hips harder and faster against hers, her heels dig into his arse. "Ahhh! Baby!" Suddenly he pulls out of her.

"Harry!?" He answers her question by flipping her onto her front pulling her to stand, but bending her over the bed with her hands flat against the mattress, he runs his cock over her core before he pushes into her deep, his hands grasp her hips. He draws all the way out just leaving in the tip before he thrust his hips forward into her again, "Ohh!" she moans.

She clenches around him, his pace speeds up and she begins to circle her hips to match his rhythm. He groans "Laila! Fuck! Keep doing that," she continues her movements, which pushes him deeper with each thrust. He pushes her barriers and hits the right spot.

He leans over as he keeps moving inside her, his hands come between her legs and works against her clit "Oh god!" she moans. "Harry....harder!" He thrusts into her again making her arch her back, his nails drag down her spine "Laila, I'm....gonna come" she smirks and begins to circle her hips. He thrusts into her harder, making her own climax build.

He thrust harder, deeper she cries out "YES!!!! Ohhh!" her moans make him fall over the edge "Ahhh..Laila Fuck!" he jerks as he reaches his high. He collapses onto her and she falls onto the bed, still panting "You don't think Poppy heard do you?" he chuckles "I hope not! We should get cleaned up and check on her" he pulls her up with him.

After a quick shower Laila checks on Poppy who's still fast asleep, Harry pops his head in "Is she OK?" she nods and they make their way back to her bedroom "You were so sweet with her today," he smiles "Well, I do have my own nieces and nephews!" she laughs remembering Mila attacking him with a pen.

~*~*~*~

The next day he's making breakfast, Poppy had come into Laila's bedroom at 5AM, but instead of waking Laila, she woke Harry "Brown sauce or red? Choose wisely otherwise we can't be friends" he jokes. She thinks for second "Brown!" he high fives her "Brilliant choice!" he had made them a bacon and eggs sandwich for breakfast.

A little later Laila wakes and finds them in the living room watching The Little Mermaid as she rubs the sleep from her eyes "Morning, sleepyhead" Harry smiles at her. She cuddles up next to him on the sofa "What time did you two get up?"

"Poppy, woke me at 5" Laila pulls away "You should have woken me. I would have gotten up with her," he chuckles "It's fine"

"Can you pause it? I need a wee" Poppy gets up and heads for the loo, Harry pauses it "Between you and me, I think I made a friend," he smirks "Must be that irresistible charm" she kisses him on the lips "The same irresistible charm that knocked your socks off" he winks.

She pretends to size up his head "What are you doing?" she smirks "Just making sure your head will still fit through the door frame!" he grabs her, pinning her to the sofa as he hovers over her, he begins to tickle her "Harry! Har...rrr...y, S..T..O..P! That...ahhhh..tickles!" he's laughing as she tries to move out of his grasp but it's no use.

She tries to pull his hands away, but nothing works, she cups his face and crashes her lips with his causing him to stop. His hands freeze, he deepens the kiss "Auntie Laila, Look, I blew up this balloon all by myself" they stop and look over to Poppy. Laila's a little confused "Pops, I don't have any ballo...Shit! Pops give that here!" Harry realises what she's blown up and howls as Laila rushes over to her taking the blown up condom from Poppy.

Poppy sits back down next to Harry "Auntie Laila doesn't like to share! There are loads in the bathroom! Why did she have to take mine?" Harry chuckles to himself.

Continue reading this story here - Chapter 14.

@lem-20 ​ @secretaryunpaid​ @aussieez​ @khoicesbyk​ @shewillreadyou ​ @irisofpurple​ @tea-me-kah​ @casualpostqueen​

[ka-za-ri]

Descent Pt. 2

Masterlist of other Chapters: Here Crossposted to Ao3: here

Part [1] Part [2] Part [3] Part 4: [4] Part [5] Part [6] Part [7] Part [8] Part [9] Part [10]

I’m so glad y’all are enjoying the food so far, please take some more of it. Let me know if you want to be added to a taglist or anything like that. For now, let’s enjoy our favorite angel doing ... not very angelic things (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧

Pairing: Simeon x Reader Wordcount: 5,000 ish Genre: Luxurious Smut Tags: Voyeurism, mutual masturbation Summary:   With the first chapter behind him, there's still something missing in Simeon's writing, and he needs your help to figure out what it is.

Stumble

True to his word, Simeon had the draft he promised in your email inbox within a few days. You were surprised. He seemed to be struggling so much when you last saw him, you really expected him to take a little more time. Regardless, it was to your benefit since it meant you had more time to edit. 

Even if it was just the first chapter and a little bit after, you were surprised at the speed in which he jumped to the lewd scenes. It wasn’t surprising considering sex was the focus, but you would need to teach him how to reign in his enthusiasm. By the time you were finished reading through the draft the first time, your whole face had gone hot. The explicit details he wrote out only brought your mind back to what you had acted out in that sunroom just a few days ago. It was a direct translation of your actions to text. Sure, Simeon was new to the genre, but his talent as a writer still shone through. 

Despite the roughness of the draft, the publisher approved it as acceptable proof of progress. They greenlit the whole project and you were more than excited to email Simeon and let him know the good news. Just as you had come back from the meeting with the executives, your phone chirped with a new message.

[SMS: I AM STUCK. I CANNOT WRITE ANYMORE. HELP ME.]

You laughed at how short and crude the message was. For someone who spent most of his time on a computer writing; he was absolutely hopeless with any other form of technology. Shaking your head at how someone like him had gotten so far in life barely knowing how to send a text, you packed up your things and made your way to his place. You did have a few notes about his first chapter to give him, anyway. 

Simeon hated being deceptive. He hated how quickly he had started to rely on that image of you in his brightly lit sunroom to fuel his writing and for his own desires. He was ashamed to ask you to come over again; but he was repeating the same motions in his writing, he needed new visuals and you were the only one he could trust. In reality, his request was a thinly veiled request to see you perform again. He was able to complete his work so quickly after watching you. Researching video clips and online articles gave him some fuel, but nothing got him so fired up as watching a scene unfold from you. 

It was a strange obsession he was still wrapping his mind around. He had to be careful, the temptation you possessed was absolutely dangerous. Simeon had to reassure himself that he was ancient and knew his way around humans with how long he had studied them. He needed to convince himself that he would never sully a human body, no matter how much he wanted you. His title, status and reputation as an angel were the most sacred parts of him. With so many years of writing experience, surely he could write a proper sex scene without actually ever having to fuck you.

It didn’t stop him from being nervous. No matter how many fail safes he came up with, he knew that you were effortlessly enticing him to be joined with you. He had to be vigilant. It would be the ultimate test of his will and his determination. Both for his career and his soul. He would see it through, he knew he could. No material experience could be more important than his angelic status. Right?

He paced back and forth in the foyer of his home, gnawing on his nail while he waited for you to arrive. It had taken him half an hour to find the right words to text you. Simeon glanced at the phone in his hand almost every ten seconds, hoping you had replied. He knew you had a meeting, but it should be over by now and you should be arriving at any moment. You hadn’t answered him which made him antsy. Usually you would have at least told him you were coming over. He could only hope that you were just eager to see him as he was to see you again.

He didn’t want to admit how he had fallen asleep with his hands down his pants the past three days, dreaming about your sweet voice as you came and called out to him. He didn’t want to think about how many positions he had imagined you being in. Simeon didn’t want to dwell on how many scenarios he came up with just to have you reenact them for him. Some of the scenes delved so deep into his darkest desires that he was scared to even admit he thought about them. 

But he wanted to see them play out. 

The doorbell barely finished ringing and he was already flinging opening the door to let you in. “I’m guessing the meeting went well.” He said with a bright smile to hide his nerves. He was already set up in his sunroom. During the time you were gone, he had brought a small folding desk to the recliner. The cable for his computer had also been moved so he didn’t have to worry about the battery being drained. You instinctively went over to the couch lined up against the wall but he stopped you. Instead of letting you lounge like you did the last time, he offered you a chair across from his makeshift desk instead. He refused to make eye contact as you made yourself comfortable. 

“The meeting went as well as it could,” you said while taking out the envelopes that contained his work. “They like everything so far, but it’s still rough and needs a little bit more refinement, and I have to agree with them.” 

You glanced up at him and noticed him fidgeting with his fingers while he kept his face calm. “So, what needs to be fixed up?”

You flipped through a few pages and showed him the paragraphs of smut he had written. The color drained from his face as he was face-to-face with the obscenity of his work in physical form. “So, it’s not bad. But I can tell it was your first time. There’s something missing about the partner. I can’t place it, but it just feels… flat? Like I can’t tell if they’re feeling anything from the exchange or what.” 

“Ah… Oh… Hahaha. I see… That explains a lot.” 

You raised a curious eyebrow at his comment. “Does it?” You crossed your arms over your chest and leaned back in the chair. It seemed as though Simeon was just at the verge of another great discovery about his writing and you were rather intrigued about what his thoughts were. 

“Yes. I was struggling to write this next scene and I just… couldn’t figure out how to convey the partner’s feelings. It’s frustrating. I should have all the resources that I need to make it work.” He gestured at what he had written and bade you to take a look. 

It was always fun to see his work in progress. With the partially polished scenes and unfinished sentences, it was like you got to see the inner workings of his brain. What he had in front of you was a far cry from the more polished work you were used to, but the overall flow of action was much better than the travesty you had seen last time. However, you could see the exact point where he started to struggle. As he said, there was a lack of feeling behind the words. 

“Ooh… So this is the part where you need my help again, huh?” 

Simeon covered his face with his hand. “I’m ashamed to ask you to assist me with another scene.” 

You smiled softly, reaching over and ruffling his hair. “Well, I’d be the world’s worst editor and manager if I refused to help you, right?” 

“You don’t have to…” 

“But I want to.” You reassured him, while getting up from your seat to start stripping. Truth be told, you were waiting for the next time you got to see him so hot and bothered while working. Something about how focused he was on writing and not what his body needed made you want to push him further, see just what it took to get him distracted. “But you know… I’m sure you’d get more out of it if you experienced it too. Sometimes, just watching isn’t enough.”

Simeon felt his heart drop to his stomach from your suggestion. You were putting into words all of his desires and what he had craved ever since the last time. If he didn't have his wits about him, he knew he would have taken you up on the offer. The temptation of knowing how it felt to be in you while you moaned had piqued his curiosity and he longed to experience it. “I… Uh,” he stuttered, trying to wrap his mind around how to reply. 

You dragged your finger up his thigh, pausing right at his crotch and waited for his reaction. He was so cute with his eyes wide, lips slightly parted and his brain short circuiting from your advances. You wanted to devour him and see him crumble under your fingers. “You what?” You encouraged, moving the focus from his crotch upwards, your finger skirting the soft sweater he wore and up to his chin. You tilted his head upwards to meet you eye to eye. “You want to write the best novel… don’t you?” 

“I do…” He breathed, unable to take his eyes away from you and his mind struggled to keep up with how quickly you had taken control of the situation. He needed to wrestle some semblance of calm back in his favor if he wanted to continue getting what he wanted without you suspecting his obsession.  “In order for me to do that, I need you to show me how…” He trailed off, cheeks flushed warm from thinking about his lewd request. 

“How what? Come on now, you asked me to fuck a pillow last time, how is this going to be any worse than that?” you teased. Much to your delight, he became more flustered, his gaze dropping to the floor and he mumbled to himself. You let him get over his shyness, waiting patiently with his chin balanced at the tip of your finger. 

Please uhm… Please show me how you please yourself… for this next scene.” He managed to save himself from falling completely into your trap, specifying exactly what he needed you to do. You were so alluring and so close to him, he had almost asked for the unforgivable. 

You smiled, letting go of his chin and stepping back. “It’d be so much easier if I had some toys to do that… but I guess I’ll show you since you asked so nicely.” You planted a kiss on his forehead before undoing the buttons of your blouse. 

“T-toys?” Simeon squeaked. He had seen them in video clips and read about them in reviews when he researched; but it never occurred to him that you might want to use them. 

“It’s okay if you don’t have any. I can always settle with this…” You teased, walking over to him and fondling his crotch. “In fact, I would prefer this over anything else.” 

You were close enough to see his pupils dilate and notice how his breath hitched as you touched him. He pulled away from you, hiding behind his screen and pretended to be busy with opening a new document. “I… I need to write.”

“But that’s the problem…” you whined, pouting that he pulled away but you didn’t press the issue any further. Watching him squirm was so satisfying; and you hadn’t even done anything yet. “You were writing the last time and you had the same problem, so stop writing this time and get into it.” You suggested. 

“I can’t.” he shook his head vehemently. “I can’t do it. No.” 

You sighed, putting your hands on your hips and looked at him. You never pegged him to be the kind of guy who waited until marriage to be intimate, but it seemed like he was alluding to the fact that he was saving himself. If he wasn’t, he was at least being very reserved for the type of content he was writing. “Fine, we don’t have to do it,” you conceded before going back to stripping yourself bare. “But feel free to help yourself to whatever you need for inspiration.” You winked, looking down at his crotch and he hastily crossed his legs when your gaze lingered. 

He was so cute. You couldn’t tell if he knew exactly what he was doing. It was hard to expect someone so beautiful and of his age to not get intimate when the chance arose. Part of you wondered if it was because you weren’t desirable to him outside of your little acts. Dwelling on that thought made your chest hurt in bitterness and you shoved that to the side to focus on helping him instead. 

You flopped back down on the chair, spreading your legs and resting them on the arms of the chair so that Simeon had a clear view of what you were about to do to yourself. Having him watch everything you did so close to you aroused much faster than you expected. “Well, time to get to work.” you said nonchalantly. 

You closed your eyes, imagining Simeon joining you in getting nude. You imagined what it would be like for him to reveal his skin a little at a time in a playful strip tease. He always wore such bulky and cozy looking sweaters, it made you wonder just what kind of body he was hiding underneath all the layers. You started at your breasts again, squeezing them together and playing with them to aid in the fantasy. 

In front of you, Simeon was typing up a storm. In your mind, it was his hands at your breasts, playing with your nipples until they were perky. You thought about him latching his soft lips around your nipple, licking at the sensitive skin there until you squirmed and moaned his name. You were careful this time to make sure you didn’t accidentally call for him when you really got into it. You weren’t in a rush to experience that embarrassment a second time. 

He could see your folds progressively get wetter as you touched yourself and wrapped yourself in a fantasy he had no access to. Recalling the last time, Simeon wondered if he was occupying your mind again. This time, he was much more aware of his body’s reactions to the scene in front of him. There was no way he could ignore the pressure growing in his pants. No matter how much he focused on the document in front of him, he could feel his desires bubbling and threatening to spill over. 

It was different this time. You were sprawled out in front of him, moaning softly and panting. Your head rested on the back of the chair. With your eyes closed and your mouth open slightly in an “O” you looked absolutely angelic. He wanted to join you, his fingers stopped typing and he was once again frozen, watching the performance in front of him. 

You noticed he stopped typing much sooner than the last time and smirked a bit, cracking open your eyes to see his precious face staring at you in wonder. “Like what you see?” You asked coyly, sliding one hand down from your breast to your pussy. You spread yourself wide so he could see exactly just how wet you were. 

Simeon only nodded, entranced with the way your folds glistened and he could smell your arousal from where he sat. He licked his lips holding onto his fraying desires as best as he could. Control yourself. You can do this. “Y-yes…” His voice came out thickly, as if his vocal chords refused to work properly. 

You giggled, loving how riled up you were getting him and slowly rubbed your slick slit with your fingers. You moaned, the pleasure your fingers gave you was much better than riding a pillow. With just a quick glance, you noticed he had uncrossed his legs and was sporting a rather impressive tent in his pants. “Well, I’m glad that you’re not bored.” you teased much to his dismay. 

His hands flew to his crotch, covering himself and he tried to will his boner back down to no avail. You giggled again, pulling his attention away from his arousal. “It’s okay, I would have been disappointed if you didn’t get turned on by what you’re seeing.” 

“I uhm…” 

“It’s okay.” You reassured him again. “Feel free to join in however you want. It only makes it all the more fun.” 

Simeon gulped, torn between work and pleasure. He put himself in this predicament, he needed to figure a way out of it. He needed relief and he needed to write. The two sides of him warred as he scrambled with his fizzling brain to figure out something. An epiphany dawned on him when he heard his phone go off. 

“Spam?” you asked when he fumbled with the incoming call, trying to silence the ringtone. “Or were you expecting someone?” 

“Ah.. uhm… spam. I think.” He confirmed once he managed to figure out to disregard the call without picking it up. The next thing he needed to figure out was how to get the camera working and recording. You wanted to help him, but with one hand covered in fluids, you weren’t sure if he wanted you touching his phone. 

Eventually with a little vocal coaching on your end and a lot of fumbling on his side, he got it to work and propped the phone up to start recording what you were doing. If he was going to get relief now, he needed to at least have proper reference to go back to later. 

“Wow… you are so much kinkier than I thought.” You joked, causing Simeon to cover his face in shame, but he didn’t try to argue. There was something about having everything recorded for later that only added to the sexual tension in the room. 

“It’s for research…” He mumbled more to convince himself than to explain to you what he was doing. 

“Right… research.” 

He moved his hands to mirror your own. One at his crotch and the other at his chest. It was difficult to hide your disappointment when you saw he wasn’t about to expose himself. His hand slipped under his clothes to touch and tease at his skin. You could see the barest hint of his abs peeking out from underneath the oversized sweater and you practically drooled at just the little bit of skin he showed off. You couldn’t help a small pout, frustrated at how unfair it was that you were putting in so much work for him and he could just so cutely masturbate alongside you. 

The frustration disappeared the moment you saw his eyelids flutter clothes and he let out a soft moan. It was the most beautiful sound in the world and it was infinitely better than anything you could have imagined. His blue eyes lidded with pleasure were only opened to a sliver as he urged you to continue what you were doing. 

With the camera rolling and the very vision of sin in front of you, you were more than eager to get back to getting off. Your finger found your clit and you rubbed it in the way that always made you see stars. “Hmmm, oh yeah…” You groaned, flicking your finger side to side before circling the little bundle of nerves. You were undoubtedly going to ruin his furniture again, but you didn’t care. 

Simeon watched the way your fingers moved and he mimicked everything you did. His hand under his shirt pinched and rolled his nipple between his fingers. The sensation made him hiss from the initial pain but that was quickly replaced by pleasure which sent jolts of bliss straight to his aching cock. He bit his lip, repeating the motion, drowning himself in the sensation over and over again. 

The scent of your essence was thick in the air. It felt like you were surrounding him with every breath he took. You were invading his every thought and infecting everything he thought was pure. But the freedom you gave him and the gratification that came with it was intoxicating. He couldn’t get enough of your breathy moans and the wet sounds of your fingers toying with yourself. 

His own hand in his pants pumped his cock in time with the motion of your fingers. At one point you had done the most lascivious thing and slipped a finger inside of you. His eyes widened as the digit disappeared and reappeared covered in your slick. His cock twitched in his hand in jealousy. He wanted to be buried in there, he wanted to feel your heat surround him. But all he had was his hand to satisfy him. 

Simeon was heavily panting now, working up to a frantic pace in his pants as his hand stroked his length. It was cramped and uncomfortable; but he couldn’t bear to expose himself to you. Surely that would be too much for you to see; and he wasn’t sure if he could control himself if he stripped alongside you. 

“Mmm, I’m getting close.” you groaned, rolling your hips to meet your fingers and you teased your clit further, feeling your body tense in preparation for your climax. “What about you?” 

“I… Uh.. I’m…” Simeon, stuttered, not able to process how close he was. It was so different from all the times he relieved himself alone. He just had to keep going until he was done. But with you in front of him, he wanted to do it together with you. Seeing your soaked pussy right in front of him made him more excited than he ever had been. “I think I’m close…” 

You laughed at his naivety. “You think?” You teased. Perhaps you needed to up the ante a bit. “Come on… come with me.” You beckoned and pressed two fingers into your tight hole. 

He blinked rapidly, trying to comprehend what his hormones were doing. Seeing your fingers being engulfed by your pussy, sliding in and out slowly while you moaned right next to him was pressing all the right buttons in him. He could see you stretch to accommodate your fingers and he was entranced by that. Without warning, he gasped, his grip on his cock tightened as he came. “Oh … I’m… I’m sorry…” He panted. “You just… that was… Uhm..” 

“Too hot for you to handle?” You asked, now working yourself faster. The face he made when he came all of a sudden was so hot. You would definitely think back on it during lonely nights. Simeon’s breathy moans, the way his skin glowed with a thin sheen of sweat from exertion. It all added up to be a breathtaking image. 

“I...Yeah…” You could see the faintest hint of red on his cheeks and smirked, satisfied that he was enjoyed himself just as much as you were loving every moment you were in front of him. 

“Good… I guess it’s my turn then.” You said and went right into the motions of getting yourself to climax. Locking the image of Simeon’s “O” face in your mind, you finger fucked yourself closer and closer to completion. 

You could feel your inner walls tighten and you were just at the edge of no return when you felt Simeon’s firm hand pull your fingers away. Whining loudly and glaring at him, you were about to berate him for ruining your good time until your entrance was filled with his own slender fingers. “Let me help you…” He said, his bright blue eyes were lit with a determination you hadn’t seen before and the fire behind them was such a turn on. 

For someone who had just been so bashful about being intimate with you at the beginning, Simeon sure was being bold now. You didn’t say anything, not like you really could. Your capacity to form coherent words disappeared when his slender fingers entered you and mimicked the motions you had shown him. He was a fast learner, able to have you shivering with little to no effort. It was hard to believe just how he had a sudden switch in personality, but it was beside you to figure it out now. 

You were free to call his name. After all, he was the one touching you now. “Oh… Simeon.” you moaned, panting and once again ramping towards your climax. This time, he was in control of the pace and the intensity of what got you off. He curled his fingers in you and you cried out loud when he brushed past a sensitive spot in you. He was so gentle and so precise, it was mind blowing what he picked up just from watching you. 

“You’re close… right?” He asked sweetly. You looked at him and the intensity in his eyes was only made more obvious against his dark skin. The tone of his voice was in direct contrast to the laser focus his gaze had on your most intimate parts. Just the dichotomy of that alone inched you dangerously close to your climax. 

Then, his thumb pressed against your clit and your world exploded. It was just the last bit of stimulation you needed to go over the edge. You clutched onto the arms of the chair while you rode out the high on his fingers. A mixture of curses and his name fell from your lips as you breathlessly tried to ground yourself. Your inner walls clenched around his digits and Simeon continued to slowly slide them in and out of you, marveling at the sensation of your pussy milking his fingers. 

You kept seeing stars at the edge of your vision with every extra pass he took. You wanted to tell him to stop, but he was too engrossed in his ‘research’ to really pay any of your protests any mind. Eventually, he pulled his fingers out of you and you sighed in both relief and disappointment. 

Simeon looked at his glistening fingers, holding them to the light and observed the slick essence that coated them. It was almost a little embarrassing to watch him be so intrigued by your fluids that you needed to distract yourself by getting dressed again so you didn’t have to look at him. While you had your back turned, Simeon experimentally licked his coated fingers and by the time you were fully clothed, he had fully cleaned them off. He looked at you and licked his lips. “Research.” He said nonchalantly with a shrug. 

“Right… research.” you said, already getting hot and bothered again at what you had just witnessed. This man will be the end of me. “Do you think you’ve gotten all you need for your next scene?” 

“Hmm….” He nodded sagely, remembering to stop recording. “I’ll have to review everything, but I think I know where to go from here.” 

You smiled good naturedly and pat his head gently. “Don’t overwork yourself.” you said gathering your things. Once again, it had gotten late and you had to regretfully leave to ensure you caught the last trains home. “Call me or text me  if you need help again, okay?” 

“Oh, of course. I plan on it.” He smiled at you and your heart melted a little, but there was a devilish nature to that smile that had never been there before. “I’ll finish the next chapter probably in a week and send it to you.” 

“I can’t wait to see what you come up with. I’m sure it’ll be great, as usual.” You grinned, feeling giddy after such a great climax as well as knowing that Simeon was able to continue working. It would definitely be good news to report back to the publishing house and keep them off his back as he worked in peace. 

He let out a soft laugh, rubbing the back of his head sheepishly. It was a shame that he was already back to his usual innocent self. You wouldn’t have minded seeing more of that sex god who showed himself a few moments before. “Well, I’ll do my best to not disappoint. I have a lot to learn.” 

“I’ll be sure to help you in any way I can.” You said. Looking down at your phone, you gasped noticing the time. “Shit. I gotta run if I don’t wanna walk all the way home tonight. Text me if you need anything!” You yelled, halfway across his home and stumbling to get your shoes back on. 

When the door slammed shut, the silence that surrounded Simeon was deafening. He had been able to hold out on taking you, but it didn’t mean he hadn’t gotten a taste of what it was like to sin. The uncomfortable dampness of his cum clung to his leg, but he barely noticed it. Instead, he was focused on the file on his phone. The recording of what transpired that afternoon. 

Taking a shaky breath, he resisted the urge to press play. The scent of your arousal and the taste of your essence were still too fresh in his mind. He needed to clean up. He needed to work. He needed to research and plan for you. He sighed and started to make his way to the shower. If he needed relief, then at least he could take care of it there and not in the mess that was his soiled pants. 

As the sun sank past the horizon and gave way to night, the light within his soul waned and the darkness he had pushed aside grew. After a taste of sin, it was only natural that he would crave more until it consumed him. 

And it felt heavenly.

[multisfabulis]

Land’s Trust in Light

Arrival in Thornewind (Chapter 1/6)

Word Count: 4090

Oh, look, a new Corona's Shadow entry that doesn't feature Verreth? That's possible?!

I kid but it honestly feels good to not be writing Verreth for CS for a little bit. CS was never meant to be a Verreth love story, it only ended up like that because I went straight into writing "The Road to Forgiveness Be Damned" after finishing "A Single Ray of Light in a Sea of Darkness" because I simply wanted to write more Ven and I started to regret my decision around the time I wrote the rough version of the third chapter. Obviously, I stuck with that decision to the end but it was throughout that time I had wants to write Verreth and I wrote those as well. However, all the Verreth segments are what I consider to be side stories, which I know may be hard to believe but trust me, because Ven and Ferreth are not the main protagonists of CS. Eric, if anyone remembers him, is. The Verreth segments were only added to the CS series because I didn't want to make a whole new series entirely focused on Verreth and take them out of something they are main characters of.

Does this mean I'm done writing Verreth? For now, yes. Outside of occasional updates to "Only Through Acceptance Will Love Find Us", I wanna focus on both this and other smaller projects, like RLD and fanfics. Just in case anyone's lost hope, the next big project is Verreth-related, with Ferreth taking the protag role a la TRFBD. Let's just say we're finally getting a look at his backstory and a reason as to why he has self-worth issues.

God, it feels great to be writing in Eric's POV again. It's been over 2 years since I finished ASRLSD so I am making the most of this!

Surprisingly enough, there wasn't much change during the transition from rough draft to publication, which actually made this harder to write. I'm so used to there being at least one major change that I got tripped up by this. The only major change here is the addition of descriptors and needed elaboration and those, I feel like, are key to "beautifying" writing so I don't count those.

One last thing is the "flirting" present in here. I honestly don't know if that can be considered flirting because I'm not someone who flirts or is flirted with on a daily basis. I'm pretty much the dense harem anime protagonist so please forgive me for the terrible flirting.

Read on AO3 | Read on DA | Support me on Ko-fi!

     Thornewind was gorgeous. Sure, Eric was looking at it from a distance atop Asha, but it made one hell of a good first impression. Thornewind seemed colorful and vibrant and he wanted to explore every last inch of it. He gently kicked Asha’s side and she began walking at a slow, leisurely pace.

     Thornewind was a town nestled in the mountains north of Aurora Zenith. The tiny glimpse he saw of it left him awestruck, from its tall, rich buildings packed closely together to its bright windmills scattered across its many open fields. Then there was the sight that awaited him over the ridge, stealing his breath away.

     There were tulips that stretched as far as the eye could see. A sea of blue, red, orange, pink, and yellow blossoms swayed in the summery breeze. It was strange how all these tulips were in bloom when Augvesta had just rolled around but he didn’t put much thought into it. Botany was more of Ven’s expertise and she would be positively thrilled upon seeing this.

     It was soon after crossing the garden he arrived at the entrance. It surprised him to see how lax security was if they let a complete stranger in without so much as a request for papers. He didn’t mind it, though; it just struck him as odd since no one was allowed entry if they weren’t deemed trustworthy back in his childhood home. He and Asha passed through the threshold and was rendered speechless.

     Towering brick buildings loomed over him while a rainbow of others stood further ahead of him. Paths of smooth stone ran in every direction, the opposite of Aurora Zenith’s dirt roads that swept up dust with enough energy behind it. He could hear the tinkling of wind chimes and the fervor of voices all around him. Thornewind certainly had Brinegarde beat in its lively atmosphere.

     He hopped off Asha, making sure to keep the reins in a firm grip. Her deep brown eyes met his as he slowly put a hand on her face and stroked. She didn’t flinch, which was a good sign of progress.

     “You’re such a good girl, Asha,” he murmured, moving his hand down to stroke her neck. “Let’s find a place for you to rest, hmm?”

     It didn’t take long to find a stable. He led her into one of the empty stalls and fed her a couple sugar cubes as a reward for all the hard work she’d done over the past two weeks. The last thing he did was tell the stableman how to care for her during her stay and that he’d be checking up on her daily. Waving goodbye to Asha, it was time to explore Thornewind.

     With it being mid-afternoon, it was pleasantly warm as people crowded the streets on their day-to-day routine. The sound of the wind chimes grew louder and the scent of delicious meals made his mouth water in anticipation. Thank god his anxiety wasn’t ruining this for him. He could hardly contain the bounce in his step as he excitedly toured around the busy thoroughfares. It was rare for him to see and visit new places so he wanted to make the most of this trip.

     There were two things he noticed. First was that most of the people he saw weren’t humans nor were they elves. Their ears were similar to Ven’s and they had what seemed to be like fangs sticking out from their upper lips. What really threw him off, though, were their sizes. Many of them were easily a foot or so taller than him just from a distance and were definitely well-built. Whatever these people were, they’ve caught his eye and he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t enticed.

     Then there were the stares. He initially thought they were wondering what a human was doing here till he realized it was what he wore. It wasn’t like he was wearing an extravagant suit but he still clearly looked like a noble, or so he assumed. He wasn’t trying to show people up. He was just taught to always dress his best for important events and he considered his reason for being here to be one such.

     Now came the realization he was lost. He had become so engrossed in his surroundings, an hour flew by without him noticing. He needed to find the lord of this town and talk with them about the relationship between them and Aurora Zenith. Allies were essential in political affairs, after all. The bad part was, he had no idea on where to start looking.

     Well, as much as he hated to, he had to ask someone for directions. It couldn’t be that hard, right? All he’d have to do is go up to a random person, ask them on how to get to the lord’s house, and that’d be it. Simple and easy!

     He felt a hand touch his shoulder and heard a voice ask, “Hey, are you okay?”

     He let out a startled shriek and turned to face the stranger. There was a man in front of him with his hands up in a conciliatory manner towards him. One of the first things he noticed was just how big he was.

     He’d never seen anyone taller than Alek before and it honestly unnerved him. The man had the same pointed ears and fangs as everyone else so he must’ve been one of the not-human, not-elf people. He had dark brown skin, messy brown hair with a small braid that reached his shoulders, and bright green eyes. What was really peculiar about him were the bandages starting from the middle of his arms and ending all the way down to his fingertips. He was definitely hiding something underneath those but Eric could care less about what right now.

     “Hey, hey, hey, calm down, okay?” the man said in a soothing tone. “I’m not gonna hurt you.”

     “I would hope not!” Eric breathed in, placed a hand on his chest, and breathed out. “It’s not every day some random stranger walks up, claps a hand on my shoulder, and asks if I’m okay right in my ear.”

     “Well, you seemed troubled so I thought you might’ve needed help,” the man replied, putting his hands down.

     Feeling rather embarrassed with himself for that pathetic display, he cleared his throat and asked, “As a matter of fact, I do. Could you please tell me where the lord of this town is, I need to speak with them right away.”

     “You wanna talk to Bris?”

     “If that’s their name, then yes. I have some important business to discuss with them.”

     “He’s not far from here, I can take you to him if you want.”

     That would probably be the best course of action. He was never good at memorizing directions and reciting them to himself only confused him more. He had no one to blame but himself for being in this situation to begin with so…

     “Sure, that’d be great,” Eric conceded. At least this guy was kind and generous enough to show him the way there.

     “All right, let’s make our way over there.” The two men began walking down a street that wasn’t as busy as before. “By the way, my name’s Ferreth.”

     “I’m Eric, it’s nice to meet you,” he said, flashing him a friendly smile.

     “So what brings someone like you to our fair town of Thornewind?” Ferreth asked. “I thought I’d recognized all our visitors since those don’t come by very often.”

     “It’s as I said. I’ve traveled a long way to see Bris in the hopes of discussing important business with him.”

     “What kind of business? Are you an important person?”

     “I’d say being lord counts as pretty important. I’ve come all the way from Aurora Zenith to see if our two towns could potentially become allies.”

  ��  “Oh, wow. I, uh, didn’t think someone as cute as you could be lord.”

     He tilted his head in both curiosity and confusion. “I don’t see what my appearance has to do with anything but I can assure you I wasn’t lying.”

     “I didn’t think you were. I just wasn’t expecting a man in your position to be so…good-looking.”

     “So what were you expecting?”

     “You know, somebody the complete opposite. I mean, I’m figuring you’re, like, smart, charismatic, kind, and everything else Bris is like.”

     Ah, that’s what was happening here. He had an inkling of it the first time Ferreth mentioned his appearance but now he was sure. Alek had never done it with him and there wasn’t really a need for him to. As flattered as he was by it, his heart was and always will be Alek’s.

     Chuckling, he said, “Well, I think my boyfriend would agree with you on some of those things but I’m more modest about them.”

     “Yeah, that’s what I thought.” Ferreth had a defeated smile on his face, gracefully accepting his loss. Eric liked how easygoing he was.

     “So what’s your relationship with Bris like?” he asked.

     “Oh, me and him are best friends. We’ve known each other since childhood but I’d say we’re more like brothers than friends by this point.”

     “Sounds like you get along with him really well.”

     “Don’t get me wrong, Bris and I have had our fair share of arguments but what friendship hasn’t? We have each others’ backs and no fight’s ever gonna change that.”

     Ferreth had a certain fondness in his voice when he spoke about Bris. It was easy to see the love and devotion he held for Bris and it warmed Eric’s heart. He was admittedly envious of their friendship. He never had any friends as a child aside from Alek and, while Alek’s irreplaceable, he wished he was able to make some back then. At least that seemed to be changing with him befriending Ven during his trip to Brinegarde so maybe he still had a chance to form everlasting relationships.

     “Here we are!”

     The two stopped before a giant windmill. Dark red brick made up the exterior and the blades turned gently in the breeze, creaking ever so slightly. There were hardly any windows aside from the two in front and there was a wraparound balcony set up just below the wooden roof. Eric didn’t know windmills could be habitable, which made him want to live here if only a little.

     “Wow…”

     “Let’s go on up, shall we?”

     They climbed up the stone steps leading to the front door. It was a tall, dark wooden door stretching up towards the wraparound balcony, with a black, wrought iron ring on the side as its knocker. Before he could think of a script in his head, Ferreth grabbed the ring and hit it against the door a few times.

     Almost immediately after, a woman answered. She wasn’t much taller than him, though he figured the top of his head would be just scraping her chin, and the slim blue dress she wore did little to hide her defined muscles. She had porcelain skin, long, wavy rose pink hair flowing down to her waist, and sandy brown eyes, reminding him of the shores of Aurora Zenith’s beaches. She was stunningly beautiful and his throat felt suddenly dry.

     “Ah, Ferreth, are you here to see Master Brirsyrun today?” she asked. Her voice sounded soft and airy like a lovely breeze.

     “Hey, Aissyl, I’m actually here because my new friend wanted to speak with Bris regarding some important matters, right?” Ferreth put a hand squarely on Eric’s back and pushed him forward slightly.

     “Oh, uh, yes!” he spoke quickly. “My name is Eric Travere and I’m the lord of Aurora Zenith. I’m here today because I needed to talk to Brirsyrun about improving the relationship between our two towns.”

     “I see. I shall ask Master Brirsyrun if he’ll see you now, please wait a moment.” She closed the door.

     That could have gone a little better, he thought as he released a breath he didn’t even realize he was holding in. He heard Ferreth trying to stifle a laugh from beside him and promptly wanted to die. Guess he wasn’t the only one she had that effect on, if this has happened before.

     “She’s pretty, isn’t she?” Ferreth asked, pretending like he didn’t know the answer.

     “Yes, well, I can’t deny that she’s quite beautiful,” he replied, clearing his throat. “Have you tried anything with her?”

     “When I first met her, yeah, and she swiftly turned me down.” He clicked his tongue, as if remembering the memory wasn’t pleasant. “Let’s just say she’s not interested in men like us. Or any man, really.”

     Before he could say any more, the woman known as Aissyl opened the door and invited them inside. The room he entered seemed to be what he’d liken to a waiting room or lounge. What little of the walls he saw that weren’t decorated in exquisite murals were painted a warm honey color. There were a couple of cushioned chairs sitting by the small window and a low table set in front of them. He didn’t have time to check out much more before Aissyl led them through an arched threshold into another room he presumed to be Bris’ office.

     It wasn’t terribly big but it worked fine for its purpose. Unlike the lounge, the walls were a cerulean blue, similar to the sky at dawn before the sunrise. There were tall bookcases standing on one side of the room and a spiral staircase leading up to the second floor on the other. A leather chair sat behind a pine desk atop a nondescript forest green rug. He figured the unusual empty space in front of the desk was for additional chairs if they had guests over. They must not get many of them if they hadn’t gotten a chair specifically for this room. A man was sitting at the desk when he looked up and Eric believed him to be Bris.

     The first thing he noticed was the cream-colored scarf worn around his neck, which he found odd since it was late summer. He looked to have a lean yet muscled body and, when he stood up, seemed to be just shy of Aissyl’s height. He had sun-kissed skin, cropped blond hair, and cloudy gray eyes. A smile broke out across his face upon seeing Ferreth and he walked around his desk.

     “Hey, I was wondering when I’d see you,” said Bris.

     “Well, I was planning on coming by here anyway but my new friend here--” Ferreth wrapped an arm around Eric’s shoulders, making him jump slightly-- “needed help finding you so why not save a trip?”

     “Right.” Bris walked up and offered a hand. “I’m Brirsyrun, son of Nulzrot and Tallo of the air.”

     That was a…unique way of introducing himself, he thought curiously as he put his hand in Bris’ and said, “I’m Eric Travere, lord of Aurora Zenith.”

     “Aissyl said you had some important matters to discuss?”

     “Yes, well, I wanted to talk with you regarding the relationship between Thornewind and Aurora Zenith.” He took a step forward, shrugging off Ferreth’s arm. “You see, I’m planning on going to the rest of the major cities and asking them for their cooperation. In simpler terms, I’m in want of allies. I already have the town of Brinegarde as one so Thornewind’s my second stop.”

     “I see. Well, I’d like to talk more of this tomorrow morning because I have some things that need attending to today. Will that be all right with you?”

     “No, that’s good, that’s great! I’ll be here tomorrow morning.”

     Wow, a guaranteed meeting? No waiting for someone because they were fooling around instead of doing work in their office? This trip was already leagues better than Brinegarde’s and it was all due to Bris being a responsible adult. That pompous jackass Lianthorne could take some pointers.

     “I think, with that being settled, we’re done here.” Bris gestured towards Ferreth. “Ferr, could you show Eric to the Dravitae Inn so he’ll have a place to stay during his time here?”

     “Of course, my lord,” Ferreth replied with a joking smile.

     “Don’t call me that, even if it’s a joke,” Bris protested, despite his own grin.

     Aissyl led the two men outside with Bris following behind. Eric and Ferreth gave a short wave goodbye and they were off. He made sure to remember any and all distinctive markers on the roads as they walked. He didn’t want to be late for the meeting tomorrow because he was lost again.

     “So, how was your first impression of Bris?” Ferreth asked, folding his hands behind his head. “Pretty nice guy, right?”

     “Yeah, he seems like a really decent person--” he let out a chuckle before sighing wearily-- “which is a lot more than I can say about Brinegarde’s lord.”

     “I’m guessing they weren’t as nice.”

     “God, you would not believe. They’re probably the most arrogant and pretentious asshole I’ve ever met.”

     “At least Bris isn’t like that, thankfully.”

     “Yeah, thank god.”

     Despite his complaining of it, he didn’t regret his trip to Brinegarde. It was a beautiful town, like many other coastal towns, and the sweets were to die for. Meeting and becoming friends with Ven, however, was easily the best part of that trip. No beauty or tasty treats will come close to the joy having her in his life brought. She was Brinegarde’s saving grace.

     “You know, I’m curious…” He put a finger to his chin as if thinking about something before continuing. “What do you do around here, Ferreth? It must be a job that gives you a lot of free time if you’re allowed to cart me around all day.”

     “Oh, I guess I’m what you’d call a handyman,” Ferreth replied. “I do general repairs wherever they’re needed and I basically do work people don’t wanna do themselves.”

     “So it’s like you’re an errand boy, then?”

     “I’d say handyman’s an upgrade from that but yeah. It may not be the most ideal job but it lets me help people and it doesn’t pay so bad, either.”

     “No offense and all but…isn’t there something you’d rather be doing than being a handyman? I mean, I guess I don’t really understand it but still… Do you have something to aspire to?”

     He swore he saw him tense up and a glimmer of something he couldn’t quite detect before it disappeared as he answered with, “Not really.”

     That was most definitely a lie. He couldn’t figure out why Ferreth would lie to him over an innocent question like that but it was none of his business. There might’ve been more going on underneath the surface and they had only just met earlier today. No sane person tells a complete stranger their entire life story hours after meeting them. He was entitled to his secrets, as was he.

     It was soon after they arrived at the Dravitae Inn. It was a simple four-story building, with pale green walls, a dark red shingled roof, a pair of large double doors serving as the entrance, and windows on either side that allowed passersby a peek inside the establishment. On the corner was a hanging metal sign that had the name of the inn inscribed on it with a sleeping dragon below. It seemed like a good enough place to stay in during his visit.

     “Here we are.” Ferreth turned towards him. “You gonna need help getting to Bris’ tomorrow?”

     “No, I should be good. Besides--” he placed a finger to his temple-- “I have a pretty good memory so I think I have the path there memorized.”

     “All right, well, good luck tomorrow,” he said, gesturing his hand in a motion reminiscent of a salute. “Enjoy the rest of your stay.”

     He began walking back the way they came. Eric watched his figure shrink smaller and smaller before he was out of sight completely. He hoped he’d have a chance to talk with him more throughout his stay here in Thornewind. He had questions he wanted answers to, such as the nature of the people here and what he was like. For now, though, it was time to check in.

     A quick chat with the innkeeper later and he had his room. It was slightly smaller than his room back at home but it brought some comfort. A queen-sized bed sat on the right side of the room and an average cupboard opposite it. The armoire was tucked away into the upper left-hand corner while a small table and chairs were in the upper right-hand corner. A single window was set at the back, which gave him a decent view of Thornewind in the late afternoon.

     He set his bag and key down on the table before flopping onto the bed. God, he wanted nothing more than to lay there for a minute or hour. He still wasn’t used to walking and talking by himself so he was thankful for the short rest. Hey, maybe by the time he goes to Emberranth, he’ll have the skills of a functioning human being and not that of an introverted shut-in.

     He sat up, reached into his pocket, and took out his pendant. The crystal inside the bottle glinted slightly upon being held up to the light. He smiled as he brought it close to his chest, hoping his mother was watching over him.

     Tomorrow was his meeting with Bris. Other than that, he had a few days to spend time doing whatever he wanted. Sightseeing, buying souvenirs, trying out Thornewind’s cuisine, he may as well treat himself as a tourist more than a visitor. He never got to do these things before now so he wanted to make the most of it.

     May he leave Thornewind with an unforgettable experience.

[swordarkeereon]

Tech Review for Writers: reMarkable2

I got myself a piece of interesting tech this year in hopes it would get me from out in front of a computer screen more often. Meet the reMarkable2, a distraction free (i.e. it’s not connected to the entirety of the internet) e-ink tablet workhorse that’s easy on the eyes.

The reMarkable2 Tablet

First things first. The reMarkable2 tablet is not for everyone and your average person probably won’t find it the least bit useful. So let’s talk about why you don’t want this tablet first.

reMarkable 2 is not for you if: 

– You want an eReader.  eReaders have a VERY DIFFERENT function than the reMarkable2. Yes, you can read PDFs on a reMarkable, but it’s more for *marking up* a PDF and commenting in the margins of a PDF. Not just reading. eReaders like Kindles and Nooks often have built in dictionaries, ways to bookmark pages or passages of text, etc…  that the reMarkable2 doesn’t have. You can search your documents for specific phrases and words and also highlight things in a light gray, but if you’re just looking for an eReader, I suggest a Kindle.

– You want a full functioning tablet that you can put apps on and surf the web with- If you’re looking for a full functioning tablet, you’ve missed the whole point of the reMarkable2. The main point behind reMarkable2 is so you can go to your creative place (wherever that may be) and brainstorm, free from ALL distractions. You can’t stop to surf FB or your Twitter feed on a reMarkable2, thus making it more likely you’ll stay on task and get more done.

– You want something with color so you can highlight because what you really want is a fully functioning ebook reader or tablet. This tablet is really more of a no frills brainstorming and note-taking tool for entrepreneurs, professionals, academics, and creatives (including engineers, writers, musicians, possibly artists if they like to sketch in black and white) who use a lot of black pens and plain paper.

I bought the tablet for the following reasons (which I wrote down BEFORE I received the device):

– I wanted an electronic notebook (not a tablet). I’m one of those people who goes through 3 packs of sticky notes every month, and countless notebooks every year. I am constantly jotting stuff down to keep myself focused and on track while running my own business and helping out at the family business.  My notes can be anything from putting together presentations, classes, and meetings, to extensive to-do lists for the day. Sometimes it’s just me keeping track of sales figures. As a result, my desk is always filled with papers and notebooks and I’m constantly searching for shit. The electronic notebook cleans up all this clutter and helps me organize my brain. (Have you seen my brain!? It’s a mess in there.)

– I  like to write freehand, especially when I’m plotting the next book or writing a blurb, or even writing a chapter – and it must be distraction free. This is something only fellow authors will understand. The fact that the reMarkable2 can convert handwritten notes to text sent via email has me excited because, if I’m lucky and it works, I won’t have to go through and transcribe all my handwritten notes. It basically saves me time by eliminating a step. I can copy/paste the note from my email into the appropriate file on my laptop. This will also save me the clutter and weight of carrying countless notebooks.

– I am involved with projects that require me to sketch out ideas for marketing and/or artwork. I do have tablets that can do this, but nothing that does it *well*. The closest is my Surface tablet, which can do a lot of things, but it still doesn’t feel like paper or allow me the fine detail paper allows. I’m hoping this tablet is a bit more responsive in this area. – I am forever printing out rough drafts of manuscripts for markup – wasting a ton of paper and toner in the process. All because I can’t edit on a backlit screen. My eyes get tired and I miss too many errors. If I can transfer my PDF drafts to the reMarkable and mark them up there with minimal errors left over, I could save some $$. I am actually estimating that I could easily save the cost of the reMarkable2 in 6 months to 1 year’s time by not having to purchase the paper, pens, and toner I usually go through in that time frame.  Plus, these marked up manuscripts often end up in a stack on my office floor for 6 months to a year after publication. 

– I am forever having to read PDFs of laws and regulations for the family business, and while I usually use them on the computer, I sit in front of a computer 8-13 hours a day. I need a non-backlit screen for reading in the evenings just to give my eyes a break.  Yes, I imagine I could do the same with a Kindle paperwhite, but I may just want to jot some notes in the same way I’d mark up a paper copy. I’m still a pen and paper girl. I’m really hoping the reMarkable is my replacement for that (most of the time anyway).

reMarkable2 test to sample the pen styles.

Some considerations I took into account before purchasing:

A lot of customers complained that it took too long to receive the reMarkable or to get support. From all of the research I did, and in reading their website, it’s clear to me that this company caters to academia and businesses. I ordered my reMarkable2 on January 16, 2021, and had it in my hands by January 25, 2021. 9 days. I also ordered it and paid for it through my business. I don’t know if that’s actually why I got mine so fast, but I wouldn’t be surprised. That said, I do think the company should work a little harder to increase their customer service efficiency. 

With regard to customer support – the website clearly states it can take up to 10 business days for support to get back to you. And a lot of the things people seem to be complaining about have troubleshooting instructions on the website. Clearly people weren’t going to the website to try to look up their issue through the support FAQs, which likely would have helped them out sooner.  They were just contacting support immediately, and angry when they weren’t getting a response after 3 days, when it’s clearly stated on the website that it can take up to 10 days due to the fact that reMarkable is a small company. But like I said earlier – they would be smart to increase their customer service team.

reMarkable’s folios are a custom fit and really pretty, but a bit pricey. I made the tablet more affordable by skipping the upgrade on the pen, because a friend of mine got the eraser feature and she wasn’t digging it initially (she loves it now), and I purchased a relatively nice folio from Amazon for under $30 (with no magnets – research told me magnets can cause dead spots in the screen of the reMarkable2). You can also just buy a 10″-11″ tablet sleeve and it would work much the same. There are also universal tablet folios that will fit 10″-11″ tablets that are free of magnets and will likely work just fine. All for under $20 bucks — even a few in faux leather. Remember that a case should protect your investment, not just make it *look* sharp. 

Right out of the Box.

Right out of the box I set the reMarkable up and started using it for brainstorming. Here were my first impressions:

1. It really is pretty damn close to writing on paper.

2. You can rest your damn hand on the screen and it won’t fuck things up or make it wobble as with traditional tablets.

3. My handwriting actually looks like my handwriting and you have almost the same control with this as you would with real pen and paper.

4. The interface is simple and intuitive and anyone who uses computers and tablets day and in day out will have no issues figuring this out.

Now some thoughts on the features:

Handwriting to Text: As an author who likes to occasionally spend time writing the old fashioned way, one of the things that attracted me to this tablet was its ability to translate handwriting to text. No writer wants to have to transcribe their written notes and waste all of that time. So of course I tested it with my horrific handwriting, vs purposefully trying to be neat, and the reMarkable2 was able to convert my chicken scratch into actual text that I could read. I was able to turn the handwritten notes into a PDF, but I was also able to send the handwriting converted to typed text as the body of an email, where I was able to cut and paste it into any program I wanted. I took it further and wrote 1000 words (about 8.2 pages) longhand. It converted all the pages to text in one swoop and I was able to copy/paste it into my manuscript. While there was a little formatting and editing involved — it was a lot faster than retyping handwritten notes. WIN! 

Handwriting for conversion test.

Conversion successful

PDF Transfer, Markup, and Signature: Transferring PDFs to the reMarkable is easy. You simply download the app on your phone and your desktop, and you can take any pdf from either device and import it onto your reMarkable, which you can then markup. I sent myself a slew of PDFs that I had to read and markup. It’s amazing how much more focused I am on a screen like this. I really got the same experience with editing on a digital PDF as I did with editing on a paper copy. My only caveat is that I don’t have more space to make notes since the margins are a bit small on the screen and there’s no “back of the page” to carry notes over to. I can likely manage. Despite that – what a great experience. Goodbye manuscripts all over my office floor!  Hello being able to drag editing work with me wherever I go!    

You can also transfer your PDFs that don’t have an electronic signature option to the device, sign them, and send them back. Talk about HANDY since I do that a few times a month by default. This just eliminates the print/sign/scan. Now I just have to transfer it to the device, sign the document, and email it straight back to whoever sent it. 

Digital Planners may be something I look into for 2022 because reMarkable actually makes them feasible. I tried a tester digital planner, courtesy a friend, on my reMarkable and I have to say – it offers just as much satisfaction as a paper planner. Plus, you can SEARCH large pdfs. It won’t find search terms in your handwriting, but it will find it in your PDF. That’s definitely a handy feature when you’re working with 500 page PDFs. That said, the tablet saves your place (last page you visited) as you’re navigating a PDF, so no need to search for the place you left off. However, there is no way to bookmark multiple pages.

ePub Reading: suppose I could sideload books as ePubs, but I really have no use for this feature. If I want to read ebooks, I use my kindle or the Kindle App on my tablet or phone. Unless I start doing editing of ePubs or want to check out an ePub format for something?  I didn’t buy this as an eReader, and it is terribly lacking as an eReader. Where the reMarkable excels is as a tool for marking up documents. So my guess is it would be great for that if you have a lot of files in ePub format that you have to go over. You also can’t change font sizes for easier reading. You can zoom in and zoom back out to regular size. That’s it. (And this is another reason this is not an eReader.)

Storage: Storage is a little over 6GB (you do not pay for the reMarkable website cloud-sync). But even with about 15 PDFs (some of them really long) on my reMarkable at any given time, I was only at .38 GB. 

reMarkable2 Storage

File System: Like I said earlier – the system is highly intuitive and easy to use. I made folders for my most common notebook uses, then I moved the appropriate PDFs to those folders, and created any notebooks I needed for those folders.

Exporting: You can export as .PNG, .SVG, and PDF.  Handwriting to text can only be sent as text via the body of an email. This is actually great for writing because then you just have to copy/paste from your email into your Word Doc, Google Doc, or Scrivener.

Importing: Imports PDFs and ePubs.

Templates: The templates are great. I generally only use graph paper, plain, and lined paper myself. But I could see how a lot of these would be useful to people. The to-do list is a crappy template just because it requires you to hide your menu to use it (you can’t tick the the checkboxes until you do this). To hide the menu tap the circle in the upper left top of the menu bar. So if you want a partial page to-do list, you can easily make your own checkbox lists using the graph paper option. There are also dot pages for the folks into bullet journaling.

A small sampling of reMarkable2 Templates

Search Feature: You can search within a PDF, but not through your own handwritten text. You must be in the PDF to search it, otherwise you can only search for file names. You can not search across documents for a phrase or word. So if you’re looking for something with the same search capabilities as a laptop or possibly a tablet, you won’t find it here.

Zooming: You can zoom in on PDF documents and write on them while zoomed. However, you cannot change font sizes to make reading easier.

Battery Life:  On days where I used it heavily (about 4-5 hours), I was using around 15% power in a day because I didn’t put it in airplane mode. Three days of 4-5 hours a day use drained my battery to 50%. So me, as a heavy user, not in airplane mode, will likely get 6-7 days out of a single charge. Possibly more since clearly not every day will be a heavy use day. The device does go to sleep after 10 minutes of inactivity.

Pen:The pens are a bit pricey. I did not buy the expensive pen with the eraser and I’m okay with that. But $60 for a pen is still a bit — ouch. 

Pen Nib: I am expecting I will be one of those poor unfortunate souls who will be replacing pen tips every 3-4 weeks during heavy use. Luckily the pen itself doesn’t use batteries. The pen nibs seem reasonable in price, just be sure to order a new pack with your device and when you start that pack, order another as shipping times on those can take a week or two depending where you are and how efficient your mail service is. You don’t want to accidently run out and find yourself without a pen. Yikes.

Security: You can add a password to your reMarkable to keep prying eyes out. But if you’re like me and self-employed, that’s not really an issue. Your remarkable has Wi-Fi, yes, but you can put it in airplane mode to cut the connection. Plus, it only syncs to your cloud storage. There really aren’t any entry points for viruses or people hacking into your device. But then I’m also not a tech person. Let’s just say I highly doubt security will be a huge issue on this thing. Besides, anyone who wants to take a peek at my tablet would likely find themselves bored stiff, unless they like reading really rough first drafts of speculative fiction.  LOL

Backup/Download: You can easily transfer your files back to your computer by opening the app and simply exporting your finished documents, etc… to your computer, backup drive or cloud drive. You can also just email yourself a copy to make it super easy.

My Wishlist:

1. I wish I could add or append new, handwritten pages to an existing PDF. That would definitely solve the space issue. Now, I just make notes in a different file and jog back and forth between the PDF and the notes, which is a little annoying, but doable. One way to solve this issue would be to save all your PDFs to double spaced. It might make markup a little easier. I’ll try that with the next books to go under the editorial knife.

2. I wish there were cheaper alternative covers. My $17 cover looks great and protects my tablet. reMarkable could easily come up with a few additional low-cost choices here. The ultra professionals are still going to buy nice leather folios. 

(I may add to this list in the coming weeks, but right now these are the two main things jumping out at me.)

Overall Review Summary

For writers, reMarkable2 truly is a remarkable distraction free device that can help improve your concentration and organization, give you the freedom to write out longhand and convert it to text without the tedious re-typing, and help you mark up drafts with ease. This would probably serve prolific and professional writers more liberally than the writer who takes a few years to pen a book. Plus, it will probably save you a lot of printer paper, toner, pens and notebooks. For business owners/users – reMarkable will likely save you pounds of sticky notes and legal pads, and hours of time transcribing your notes. Plus, it’s a great on-the-go working tool for content creators and people who review a lot of PDFs. 

Have some thoughts on the reMarkable2? Feel free to leave a comment below!

[cdelphiki]

Jason and the Three Terrors, ch 2, rough draft. 3292 words.

prologue, chapter 1

I love sharing my WIPs, so I’ll probably keep on sharing what I’m doing on this. Everything will get a revision before it’s posted to AO3, eventually, so just keep in mind this is a WIP. :) Let me know what you think, even if it’s you don’t think something is working. (I can take it if you’re nice. lol)

--

Mara was blissfully silent the rest of the trek to the cliff. Her blatant distrust and outright snobbery was not, at all, helping Jason’s already frayed nerves.  

This whole whatever was going on better not last too long. Jason would gladly help Talia get the kiddos to safety somewhere, just as long as that was it. He wanted to go back to training as soon as possible, or whatever. He had no idea what he wanted to do with his life, in all honesty. Training was at least productive. Trying not to murder a couple little brats would not be.

When they finally reached the cliff, Jason was annoyed to see Talia hadn’t beaten him there. The fact that she wasn’t there was extra annoying, too, because the boy was. And he didn’t look any happier than Mara was to be woken in the middle of the night.

Damian, Jason presumed, was sitting on his backpack.  He started glaring at Mara the second the two of them turned the corner, around some rocks, and came into view.  Jason kind of wanted to nope it right out of there.  Have nothing to do with any of this.

“Tt,” the kid huffed, as he stood and crossed his arms to address Mara, “What are you doing here?”

And holy guacamole Jason could definitely see the Bruce in this kid.  He was the spitting fucking image of Bruce Wayne.  The only thing Talia about this kid was his eyes.  And his complexion.  

“Lady Talia summoned me,” Mara responded, stopping about fifteen feet away from Damian.  Jason paused with her, although he wasn’t sure why, but he figured the brat knew her brother way better than Jason did. Considering Jason didn’t know him at all.  

Both kids rested hands on the hilts of their swords, and Jason groaned internally. They weren’t going to get violent, were they?

Holy-sibling-rivalry, Batman. 

“My mother asked me to meet her here, of course.  Why she would summon you is beyond me,” Damian said, all but sticking his little snot nose right up in the air.  

“You must be the servant Mother mentioned,” Damian added, turning his gaze to Jason as he looked Jason up and down before rolling his eyes, “You don’t look like much.”

And yep.  Jason was gonna have to work on that not-smacking-children thing. 

“I am not a servant, you little brat,” Jason said, taking his bag off and dropping it on the ground, so he could sit on it, “And that’s no way to speak to your sister.”

“This bastard is not my sister,” Damian declared, at the same time Mara said, “I am not his sister.”

“Wait, what?” Jason said, completely thrown now.

What the fuck did that even mean?  If Mara wasn’t his sister, then what was she? And why did Talia call her one of her ‘children?’ 

It would make sense, though… Since Mara looked nothing like Bruce. Jason would believe Mara and Damian were related, but even then it was kind of stretching it.  That had far more to do with her complexion. And eyes. 

The only two things Damian had from Talia….

Jason would easily believe half-sister. But then they wouldn’t have agreed on ‘not’ sister. 

So what the fuck was Mara?

“I said, this bastard is not my sister, why would you assume-”

“Why are you being an asshole?” Jason interrupted, because sister or not, that was no way to speak about the little girl. “I think you owe her an apology.”

“You watch your tongue, peasant,” Damian growled, scowling at Jason and absolutely not apologizing to Mara, “You will not order me around.”

Oh boy.

“Are you both gonna call me peasant? Cause that’s just rude.” 

“Tt,” Damian huffed, drawing his sword, “I will not be insulted by one of Mother’s servants.”

Jason hopped up and further away from Damian while he held his two hands out placatingly. “Look, kid, I told ya, I’m not a servant, so I’m gonna talk to you however I damn well please.  But it’s no reason to get all stabby, yeah? So how about you put down the sword.” 

“Damian,” Mara said, then switched to Arabic as she said, “He claims he did not know of our existence until Lady Talia ordered him to bring me here.”

“How could a servant possibly not know who I am?” Damian responded in like, and Jason just rolled his eyes. These stupid little brats acting like they could have a conversation right in front of his face.  Yeah right. His Arabic wasn’t perfect, but he wasn’t terrible, either.  

“I am not a servant,” he replied, also in Arabic.  If either child was startled he could understand them, they didn’t show it. “Stop calling me one.”

“Then what are you?” Damian asked dryly, crossing his arms as he turned to face Jason. 

“Like I told Mara, Talia trains me.” 

Damian scowled, likely at his lack of ‘respect’ for his mother. These brats thinking they were royalty. And that Jason would even care about that. But then his face softened as he looked at Jason assessingly. “Ah. Then you are Mother’s pet. I have heard of you.”

“Pet?” Jason objected, “I’m not a fucking pet.”

“You would be wise to watch your-” Damian started, in a nasty little snarl as he pointed his sword at Jason, but was cut off by Jason’s current favorite person on the planet.

Because Talia Al Ghul said sharply, “Damian,” from just out of their sight, causing the little brat to snap to attention at his mother’s chastisement.  

“Mother,” Damian said, turning to face Talia just as she rounded the corner, and froze, cutting off whatever argument he had been gearing up to share.  

Right along with Jason.

Because in Talia’s arms was another kid. 

This one was clinging to Talia in a way Jason would expect a kid to do at 3 in the morning, her arms wrapped tightly around Talia’s neck and her face buried into Talia’s hair. 

“Jason is an ally and you will treat him with respect,” Talia said, exhaustedly, as she coaxed the little girl in her arms to sit up and look around. 

Damian scoffed, rolling his eyes and whole head dramatically, as if Talia had just asked of him the world, then motioned at the little girl and said, “And who is she?”

Talia narrowed her eyes at Damian, then said, “He is your brother, Damian, you will respect him. And this is your sister.”  

Jason opened his mouth to protest that instantly, because he was not a brother.  He did not have brothers. Or sisters. Or fathers. No one.  He had no family, and he was perfectly fine with that. He refused to allow Talia to trap him like this into family and all the bullshit that accompanied that.  Especially not with such little brats.  

But before he even got one syllable out, he was shut down by the nasty glare Talia shot him.

“My-” Damian said, then just stared helplessly at Talia for a moment before steeling himself and declaring, “I do not have siblings.”  

“Are you questioning me, child?” Talia said warningly, causing Damian to stand just a little straighter, before she softened her voice and said, “This is Athanasia.” 

Talia set the girl down on her feet and Athanasia didn’t let go of Talia’s hand. In fact, she stepped behind Talia, just slightly, and looked between Damian, Jason, and Mara with a tiny little smile on her face.  After a second, she waved and hid her face behind Talia.  

“Hi,” Jason said dumbly, not sure how else to react.  He’d already met two other kids, so what was a third, right?  But Athanasia seemed incredibly shy, while the other two were aggressively, well… everything. Aggressive. And damn was she adorable. 

When Damian looked at Talia searchingly, rather than speak to Athanasia, Talia sighed.  “I kept her secret,” she explained, her hand carding through the little girl’s hair absently, “so that Father would not take her from me.” 

Damian shook his head, and Jason looked over to see a whole slew of emotions flickering across Damian’s face. Hurt. Betrayal. Confusion. Anger. It was kind of making Jason feel bad for the little brat.  What had he been subjected to that Talia clearly didn’t want Athanasia to suffer? 

“Damian,” Talia said, letting go of her daughter to close the distance between her and Damian. Once she’d knelt down to Damian’s height, she put a hand on his cheek and whispered, “My love,” before pulling him into a very long hug, that Damian clearly found to be incredibly confusing.

If this kid honestly wasn’t used to hugs, Jason would gladly hike across all of Afghanistan, if that’s what it took to get him away from here. Brat or not.  

“Mother, what is happening?” Damian asked, his voice a near whisper. 

Talia pulled him back, placing her hands on either side of his face.  “We are leaving, my prince, so you and your sister may grow up in safety.” 

“We are defecting?” Mara asked, her voice partially incredulous, and partly shaken. 

“Mother,” Damian said in alarm, pulling away from her touch, “We cannot-”

“I will not betray my Grandfather,” Mara said, this time with much more confidence as she took a few steps back from them all.

“We are Al Ghuls,” Damian asserted, scowling at Talia, “Mother, be reasonable.” 

“Silence,” Talia shouted, when the two of them delved into speaking over one another in protest. Both children, amusingly, snapped their mouths shut instantly and stood at attention for Talia, who just sighed. “We haven’t a choice.” 

“What possible reason could we have for defecting,” Mara asked, taking a step back from Talia, as if she were about to turn and bolt to get away from them.

“Father learned of Athanasia’s existence, and ordered her and Mara to face each other in battle,” Talia said, and the sheer bitterness on her face was staggering.  

Then her words sank in.  

“Holy shit,” his whispered, “Like to death?” He wanted one of them to kill the other? 

Just looking at Athanasia and Mara, Jason had no doubt Mara would win that.  But what kind of damage would that cause Mara? Had she already killed? Probably, right? Jason had killed a few times, himself. All while on missions, which were part of his training. It bothered him, a little.  Sometimes. When he let himself think about it. But he was 16. He was 16 and chose this. Plus, all his targets have been adults. Horrible adults, at that. Human traffickers, child rapists, baby killers. All of them deserved it. 

But a little girl, barely up to his waist?  Probably 6 years old, if Jason had to guess? What would killing her do to Mara? She wouldn’t have a choice. She’d live the rest of her life knowing she took the life of an innocent child. Would she be able to live with herself? 

Talia nodded grimly, and Jason could feel the fire in his blood start to burn. 

“I could-” Mara started, only to pale and take another step back, looking up at Talia anxiously, “If it is what Grandfather orders…”

She could kill Athanasia, she meant, Jason was sure.  Of course she could.  

But she shouldn’t have to. 

No child should have to live with that.  Fuck Ra’s Al Ghul for even suggesting such thing. Jason was immensely grateful that he was no where near Ra’s at the moment, because had he been in the compound he’s fairly certain he would have barged into Ra’s quarters and punched him right in the face. As it was, all he had was his duffle bag, so he kicked it as hard as he could.  His knives clanged against each other, and the bag skidded across the snow covered dirt a good six feet, stopped only by one of the many rocks surrounding them.  

“Fuck him,” he growled, clenching and unclenching his fists.  He needed something to hit. All he had around him were rocks, though.  Rocks and children and Talia. He’d either hurt his hands or immensely regret his life choices, so instead he flung himself down on his bag and sat there, trying his best to calm his breathing and chill. 

Everyone was staring at him, he noticed, when he looked up, so he closed his eyes in order to practice meditating in the way Talia had taught him, when she learned of his ‘anger management’ problems. He still had to roll his eyes at that. Since his anger was never unjustified, he didn’t see much of a problem with having it. But whatever.  

“Mara,” Talia said after a minute, and Jason’s eyes snapped open at her her tone. Because she sounded so kind and almost… loving. Jason would expect that tone from a mother to her child, but everyone had been clear Mara wasn’t her daughter. 

It’s a tone he’d heard from Catherine, many times. Jason, darling, she’d say, and no matter the circumstances, or why she was using it, the tone always made him feel safe. Like a warm blanket being wrapped around him, his mother’s words were more comforting, no matter what message they delivered. 

Talia’s words clearly had the same effect on Mara, because her shoulders drop, slightly, as Talia knelt before her and repeated, “Mara, my niece. Do you think so little of yourself that you believe it acceptable to be pitted against an untrained child to prove your worthiness at life?”

Mara froze so visibly at that, Jason just wanted to get up and go murder Ra’s for sure.  Because what the fuck was this. Damian wasn’t used to hugs, Mara wasn’t used to hearing someone affirm her worth in life, and Athanasia was standing off to the side, clinging desperately to a stuffed cat that apparently materialized out of no where. Perhaps she pulled it from the backpack she was wearing.  

In fact, Athanasia looked downright terrified, in all honesty. Talia must not have told her about the whole battle-to-the-death thing. Her little body was trembling, and her face was ghost white as she looked pleadingly at Talia, whose attention was still on Mara.  

“I-” Mara said, then paused and shook her head.  

“Tt,” huffed Damian, rolling his eyes as he took a step closer to Talia and Mara, putting himself within arms reach of Talia, “She is not.”

“Damian,” Talia hissed, and Jason had enough of this.  

He stood slowly, so not to draw attention to himself, and slowly made his way over to the trembling little girl lost in the background.  

He knelt down next to her, earning only a wary glance before he said, “They’re pretty loud, huh?”

Athanasia nodded slowly, as Damian started ranting about their station and honor or some other nonsense. Talia was pinching the bridge of her nose, and Jason was suddenly glad he wasn’t the little brat.  Because he was fairly certain Damian was about to get told off.  Or maybe even smacked.   

“So you’re my little sister, huh?” he asked, suddenly wondering whether the little girl spoke much English.  If she were kept secret from everyone, it was unlikely she’d had much of an education.  “How old are you?” he asked, in Arabic this time.  

“Seven,” she whispered in Arabic, so Jason figured he’d just stick with it. 

“Seven, huh? That’s a good age. I’m sixteen.”  

When all the little girl did was take a deep, shaky breath, Jason inched a little closer.  “Hey,” he whispered, resisting the urge to reach out and hug her, “There’s no reason to be scared.” Athanasia turned her head to look at Jason, so he added, “Not with me around. I’m your big brother, right?”

She nodded. 

“And do you know what big brothers do?”

“No,” she whispered, pulling her stuffed cat up closer to her face. 

“We protect our little sisters and make sure nothing bad happens to them.”

The tiny little smile Athanasia graced Jason with made him just grin wider.  He could already tell he was going to like this kid. She was just so damn cute.  

“Does your cat have a name?” he asked, after looking over at Talia and seeing her speaking quietly to the other two kids, still. He couldn’t make out what she was saying, but both of them were absolutely entranced by her, so he figured she was getting through to them and convincing them to ‘defect’ from this damn cult.  

Athanasia held her cat out so Jason could see her better and said, “Kitty,” in English.  

“That is an excellent name.” Jason reached out and ‘pet’ the cat before Athanasia snatched it back and hugged onto it again.  “Do you know how old Damian is?”

“He is eight,” she said, louder and more confident now. She’d quit shaking, too. Jason still had that urge to just hug her, though. Maybe she wouldn’t stab him, if he did.

“How old is Mara?” he asked instead.

Athanasia shrugged.

“Jason,” Talia said, successfully gaining his attention as she stood to address all of them, “We should get moving, we do not have time to waste.”

“Sure.” Jason stood and slung his back over his shoulder, then smiled down at Athanasia as she followed him to join Talia and the kids. “So what’s the plan?”

“We will hike to Kabul and fly out of there,” Talia explained, pulling out a small device from her bag, which appeared to be a GPS of some sort.  Which was good, because Jason knew for a fact there were no roads anywhere near them. 

Which… just meant this was about to be one hell of a hike. Because most of it was going to be through mountains and desert… 

“Mother,” Damian said, shuffling to catch up as Talia began walking southwest, “That is a week’s hike.”

“Yes, my son. Father will be expecting us to cross into Pakistan or Tajikistan and catch a ride, so we will not.” 

Jason slowed, a little, so that all the children were walking ahead of him, and took up the rear. Athanasia grasped onto Talia’s hand, and Damian just scowled at the little girl.   

Oh boy, he thought. The next week was going to be hell.  

“Do we have enough supplies for this,” Jason asked uneasily, mentally cataloging everything he had in his bag. Which was mostly weapons, clothing, and very basic sleeping supplies.  No food or water.  He did have an empty water bottle that he could fill, if he wanted to risk drinking melted snow, which he didn’t.  Hopefully they’d stumble upon enough springs… 

Talia waived their concerned off with a simple, “My pack is almost entirely food, do not despair.” 

Looking at her backpack, Jason had doubts. While it was a decent size, he was having a hard time believing she had enough food for four people for a week. Maybe if it were entirely protein bars… 

“Do you not trust me?” Talia asked harshly, apparently sensing his hesitancy. After sighing, she added, “If you are worried, we will encounter a village in four days where we can replenish our supplies and perhaps sleep for the night.” 

“Where will we fly to, Lady Talia,” Mara asked, as she trailed along behind Damian.  

“N-” Talia started, then halted throwing her arms out in either direction to stop the rest of them from walking forward. “We have been found,” she whispered harshly, turning and pushing them all in the opposite direction, “Run.” 

They didn’t have a chance, though.

Because not even a step into their retreat, the sound of a gun firing engulfed the previously quiet mountain soundscape, the bullet whistling right past Jason’s ear.  

And when he looked back, he saw the smug face of Deathstroke grinning back at them. 

[shipmistress9]

FTLOAP: Chapter 33: Bring On The Fire And Bring On The Storm

Title: For The Love Of A Princess

Fandom: HTTYD

Theme: Hiccstrid - Medieval-style AU - Romance - Angst/Hurt/Comfort

Summary: Reduced to little more than a stable boy, Hiccup, despite his noble birth, has few prospects for more in life. But when he meets a girl who came to look at the horses, being a stable boy might not be enough anymore. Together, they have tough choices to make and great risks to navigate if they want to survive and be together.

Rating: Explicit

FF-net  -  AO3 -

Discord-server for discussions and questions

Prologue; Chapter 1; Chapter 2; Chapter 3; Chapter 4; Chapter 5; Chapter 6; Chapter 7; Chapter 8; Chapter 9; Chapter 10; Chapter 11; Chapter 12; Chapter 13; Chapter 14; Interlude 1; Chapter 15; Chapter 16; Chapter 17; Chapter 18; Chapter 19; Chapter 20; Chapter 21; Chapter 22; Chapter 23; Chapter 24; Chapter 25; Chapter 26; Interlude 2; Chapter 27: Chapter 28 ; Chapter 29 ; Chapter 30; Chapter 31; Chapter 32; Interlude 3; Bonus 1

Alpha/Co-author: @athingofvikings

. – * – _ . o O o . _ – * – .

AN: Woah, what a week! Between HTTYD 3 and RL, I've been a total mess, and am honestly amazed that there actually is a chapter to post this week. And such a long one, too. But most importantly: This is the last chapter of Part 2! (I'm strangely pleased that Part 1 ended on chapter 11, and now Part 2 ends on chapter 33.) So, yeah, this is the last chapter of this part. It contains scenes I had in my head for ages, and as it is with those, I'm not quite sure they came out as I always imagined them. But I'm happy enough with them by now, and hope you'll enjoy them too.

More importantly though: I'll go on another scheduled hiatus now. I'm sorry that there was no prior warning, but... Well, I need a little time to properly outline the events and content of Part 3, especially since athingofvikings and I are discussing what to include from HTTYD 3, expanding out details in plotting from my original outline. For my own sanity, I also want to write out a full draft and build up a buffer for the summer. Posting will resume April 5th, 2019. For everyone interested: Feel free to contact us on @athingofvikings ‘ Discord server.

This chapter's title comes from the song 'Invincible' by Ruelle. It feels oddly fitting, both for this chapter on its own and for the upcoming Part 3. ;)

. o O o .

 When she heard the voices of her ‘brothers’, Astrid was up and awake in an instant.

Shit!

What were they doing here?

Hastily, she sat up, perking up her ears. Could she’ve been wrong? There was nothing now, only the silence of the night. Had it just been her fears that had made her imagine those voices? Maybe it had just been a dream altogether? But no, there it was again. She knew Eret’s voice and Dagur’s cackling laughter too well to be wrong.

And judging by their volume, they already were close.

Within only a second, she was on her feet, frantically looking around for a place to hide, but came up empty-handed. The back of Hiccup’s sleeping stall was packed with straw bales, but they were stacked too tightly to hide between them, and it was too late to leave the stall and look somewhere else.

With her heart beating in her throat, Astrid wrapped herself into Hiccup’s blanket -- even as something like a desperate hysterical laugh bubbled up inside her. Yeah, right. Hiding the fact that she’d been lying in Hiccup’s bed, half-naked, would totally help if they found her here.

Praying to all the Gods she knew, she pressed herself into a corner of the stall, the last one that would be visible should someone look in here. Maybe they wouldn’t even come in at all? Maybe they’d just drop Hiccup off and leave?

The sound of the door opening was audible, and Astrid reflexively held her breath as definitely more than one pair of feet entered the stables. Oh, please!, she prayed. Please don’t let them find me!

“All right,” came Hiccup’s voice. “You’ve accomplished your goal and got me here without an accident. Thanks, guys. Really. But now, I’ll be okay. Shoo. Off with you.” He sounded… strange somehow, but Astrid didn’t have the nerves to further think about that. Not now!

“Are you sure?” Eret sounded worried, and Astrid pressed herself closer against the wooden wall to her back. Why couldn’t he simply leave?

“Yes, I’m sure,” came Hiccup’s dry reply. “You don't need to tuck me into bed.” He sounded closer now, almost at the entrance to the stall, and apparently, Eret had followed him there.

He’d come closer too, stood only a few feet away from her now. If he opened the stall door, there was no way… “Hic, don’t underestimate this stuff… It’s–”

“Seriously, I’m fine!” Hiccup interrupted him. “And I can take care of myself. See you guys tomorrow.”

Astrid didn't even dare to breathe. She could even see Hiccup now, standing in the open door with Eret apparently directly in front of him. If Eret only so much as made one more step…

“Come on, he's fine,” came Dagur's voice, and Astrid almost sobbed in relief. “Leave the boy to his pleasant dreams. We have another one to get into bed, after all.”

It felt like an eternity before Eret answered, Astrid shaking like a leaf, but eventually, he gave in. “You're right, both of you. All right, see you tomorrow, Hiccup.”

“Sleep well,” sounded Dagur's cheerful voice toward them, followed by an unintelligible grunt that sounded awfully like Daniel. Still not daring to move a single muscle, she listened anxiously to Eret’s receding footsteps, to him and Dagur exchanging a few words that were too quiet for her to understand. A minute later, the door to the stables finally closed, leaving her and Hiccup in relative silence, except for the snort of a sleeping horse. Astrid was still too tense and anxious to relax and approach Hiccup, when his sudden laughter caught her off guard. It started quietly, just a low chuckling really, but quickly grew into a full body guffaw.

“Oh, Gods,” he gasped in-between. “I was sure that they would spot you!” He turned toward her, apparently knowing exactly where she was hiding, and pulled her into a tight hug, blanket and everything.

Still stunned, Astrid was hardly able to react in any way, not even when he kissed her, giggling against her lips. “Tha-that was awfully close,” she eventually gasped, still shaking. Countless ‘What if…’s were whirling around in her head, and she still felt as if she couldn’t breathe freely.

“I know!” Hiccup was still chuckling, leaning heavily against her. “That would have been…” He broke off into another laughing fit. “Gods, can you imagine? That would have been hilarious!”

Hilarious? Well, that wasn't the word Astrid would have used! Alarming, maybe. Or terrifying. But then, Hiccup’s behaviour was odd, not really like him, but more–

“Hiccup, are you drunk?” she blurted out, a little incredulously, smelling the beer on his breath. The question wasn't necessary, not really. In fact, now that she thought about it, it was fairly obvious. But the words were out before she could think about them.

“Mmm,” Hiccup hummed into her hair. “Maybe a little? Apparently, Dagur thought our beers needed improvement, so...” he chuckled again, shaking his head against her neck.

Gulping, Astrid nodded. “I see,” she mumbled. That explained why Eret had been so concerned; Astrid had heard enough stories about Dagur’s brews to be a little worried now too.

But then, Hiccup seemed to be all right. More than all right, actually. He wasn’t sick or delirious, nor unstable in any way she could detect – and having been around drunk nobles since she was a little girl, she’d seen a lot of men and women who acted poorly under the influence of drinks. No, all that was different from his normal self was his obvious giddiness and how unrestrained he was. His hands were roaming over her body, never holding still; up and down her back, her shoulders, caressing her neck, her sides, pushing the blanket aside to brush along the edges of her bare breasts. The feeling very efficiently distracted her from all worrisome thoughts.

It felt a bit odd, the rough fabric of his heavy cloak and the cold leather of his vest beneath against her bare skin, but she couldn't say that it was unpleasant. On the contrary, his almost playful touches and giddy laughter every now and then finally made her relax too. Eret had been awfully close to discovering her, but what mattered was that he hadn't. So she made an effort to deeply breathe in and out, let the tension flow out of her, and leaned more comfortably into Hiccup's embrace. Being close to him, kissing and feeling him, always made her feel better.

“You're in quite a cheerful mood,” she eventually pointed out, gasping as he nibbled his way down her neck. And he really was, with the continuous giggling and grinning. She was happy to be with him too, but this still felt like something else. “Did you have a good night out?”

Again, he began to chuckle. “Yeah, we had. I...” he paused, almost choked on another laugh, then added, “I told them about you.”

Astrid froze, and her gut seemed to drop down into her feet. “You– What?” He couldn't be serious now, could he? No, surely not. Surely, he hadn't–

“Don't worry,” he interrupted her approaching panic attack, still grinning and giving little giggles but somewhat steadier now. “I just told them that I am in love with the most wonderful woman on Midgard, how beautiful and smart and brave she is, and that she loves me too.” He paused to place a lingering kiss just below her ear. “I didn't mention your name, they don't know I was talking about you, but… Gods, Daniel, he–” Hiccup broke off, his arms around her tightening. “He said he’s happy for me. Encouraged me to marry her– you as soon as possible. That he would support me if needed...”

Astrid felt a kind of pressure around her chest, as if a corset was being closed by Ruff in one of her moods. “But Hiccup,” she interrupted him. “I don't doubt that he said that, but… but he didn't know you were talking about me, that he is the one who–”

“I know,” Hiccup sighed. He retreated slightly until his eyes met hers. There was a strange expression in them; an odd mixture of hope and despair, all covered by a light haze that probably came from the alcohol. “I know that he doesn't know that I was talking about you and I know that that fact would certainly change his opinion. But…” he broke off, and swallowed before a small almost shy smile played around his lips. “But it gave me hope, you know? The hope that he'll come around? Last night, I thought that hope was lost for good, so… Yeah, it was good to hear that he doesn't think I'm a complete failure.”

Astrid features softened, and she reached up to brush a few fringes out of his face. “You're not a failure,” she whispered. “Where is that idea suddenly coming from?” She remembered how Eret the Elder, the old goat, had spoken about Hiccup in that way, and how Hiccup had reacted when she’d repeated those words. But that was ages ago. It had never come up again since then, so why did he mention it now?

But he just shrugged, and averted his eyes. “Doesn't matter,” he muttered, then pulled her closer again until his face was thoroughly buried between her hair and her neck. “All that matters is that you're here. Freya, Astrid, I– I love you. So much!”

Chuckling weakly, Astrid turned her head until her lips touched his skin. “I love you too.”

She couldn't really say how they ended up rolling around on the straw-covered ground a few minutes later. All she knew was that there was something unrestrained and wild, almost feral even, about Hiccup's actions. The way his hands roamed over her skin, searching and exploring, intense, his kisses hot and almost demanding. It left her dizzy and wanting, especially when he focused all his attention on her breasts. She'd never known how sensitive that part of her body was, but, Freya, every time his work-roughened hands palmed her, fingers brushing over or pinching her nipples, she couldn't help but moan and writhe beneath him. And when she felt the damp heat of his mouth, his wet tongue stroking, the suction, his teeth nibbling and biting, all she could do was scream.

“Quiet, you'll scare the horses,” he mumbled against her skin as she floated down from one of those intense explosions. A part of her wanted to chide him for the clearly audible smirk in his voice, but the by far bigger part didn't care.

“Y-your fault,” she panted, chest heaving. “Freya, how are you doing this? How… what…” she broke off when her words kept incoherently tumbling out of her mouth. She needed better words!

Hiccup, the intensity of his touches not dwindling in the slightest, chuckled. “It… has many names. But the most common would be an ‘orgasm’. Or a climax. Or I’ve even heard ‘little death’ for the really good ones that just knock you flat. And as for how… I'm amazed myself how… responsive you are.” He lowered his head, and drew another loud moan out of her by ardently playing her nipple with his tongue. “Seriously, I could do this all day and never get bored.”

“Uhh uh…” Astrid made, already feeling the tingles of another orgasm, as Hiccup had called it, pooling in her belly when his hand wandered down her body and beneath her skirts. Clutching at his shoulders in a desperate attempt to anchor herself was all she could do when his hand between her thighs stroked that fire within her once more. It took only a few minutes until a second orgasm wrecked her body, leaving her stunned and trembling, unable to comprehend much beside Hiccup placing soft kisses all over her skin.

“Gods, you’re so beautiful like this,” he whispered, his voice low and rough. “As if you were glowing…”

His breath tickled, making her giggle giddily, and she reached out with weak arms to pull him up and into a kiss. He complied easily and eagerly, his unusual intensity still not dulling in the slightest. Astrid wouldn’t complain, she loved how tactile he was, how his hands – his whole body, really – wouldn’t stop moving, exploring. It made her want to do the same, to feel him.

Barely ever stopping kissing him, she managed to get Hiccup out of his tunic, with his cloak, vest, and shoes having already been shed. It didn’t take much for her to get over her initial hesitation, to explore him with the same eagerness he showed, hands running over muscles and scars, gripping and stroking. Their kisses grew more heated and distracted, and everything around them seemed to fade away. There was nothing else anymore, nothing but him. And she wanted all of him.

Humming against his lips, she led her hand glide down his front, over his stomach, until she felt rough fabric. There was a last spark of shyness, but she quickly brushed it aside. This was Hiccup, and there was no reason to ever be shy or hesitant with him. She wanted to move on, to feel him, this last part of him she didn’t really know at all. She wasn’t even sure what she’d planned, whether she wanted to feel him through the fabric of his trousers, more aware of the sensation than when they were making out, or whether she wanted to let her hand slide beneath the fabric, to feel hot skin and more, things she barely knew anything about.

But before she could do either, his hand was around her wrist. With an almost pained groan and a shake of his head, he pulled her hand away, his fingers entangled with hers as he resumed kissing her with renewed vigour. The way he moved, grinding against her, and his groans and grunts quickly distracted her from wondering again. It all simply felt too good to bother, to think, and all she wanted was to follow where he led her. Especially when it made her body throb so wonderfully, made tension coil tight before it burst and washed through her in thrilling waves. It felt as if she could never get enough.

“Oh, f– A-astrid!”

She barely registered Hiccup’s muffled groan against her shoulder or how his body coiled tightly only to shudder and shake a second later. In fact, she didn’t register anything, basking in an incredible rush that left her dizzy, until Hiccup slumped down onto the straw next to her. Right now, she could completely understand that ‘little death’ nickname for this feeling. He was panting, his eyes on her still dazed as he reached out to brush her sweaty fringes out of her face.

“I still have no idea what I ever did to deserve this – to deserve you,” he mumbled, voice slurring heavily.

Astrid wanted to reply that it was the same the other way around, but when she finally managed to make her eyes focus on him, he seemed to be half-asleep already. Well, the last couple of days had been busy, it was late, and he wasn’t exactly sober anyway.

For a few minutes, she just watched him with a lazy smile on her lips. He looked beautiful, so peaceful and relaxed, the corners of his mouth tugged up in the slightest of smiled. And yet…

And yet, there had been something earlier, something that bothered her more the more she thought about it. Slowly, her smile faded into a frown. Why had he done that, not just tonight but last night, too? Everything else had been wonderful, perfect even, but this…

For some while, she went through one possible explanation after the other in her mind, not really liking any of them. And it was futile anyway. She should simply ask Hiccup what that had been about, hoping that the explanation wouldn’t be–

No, none of that anymore, she chided herself. She needed to ask Hiccup, everything else wouldn’t get her anywhere. But gazing at his sleeping face, she had to acknowledge that now clearly was not the right time to do so.

With a sigh and a slight grimace, she pushed all these confusing thoughts aside in favour of getting at least a little sleep tonight, reached for the blanket behind Hiccup to cover them both, and then snuggled against his warm chest. Tomorrow, she thought to herself. Tomorrow, I will ask him. Whenever I get the chance...

. o O o .

Fighting to keep a pained groan inside, Hiccup reached up to rub his temples and simultaneously cover his eyes from the ray of sunlight which was breaking through the clouds occasionally. Being here as part of the farewell-party for the Crown Prince was an honour, even with the official explanation simply being that he was bringing Trample, and he didn't intend to embarrass himself by letting his hangover show too much. He knew that Daniel wasn't feeling any better, but the Prince somehow managed to appear composed, so Hiccup could do the same.

And appearing composed was important in more than one regard anyway. After their fun night out last night, Hiccup was confident again that it was more than just this official reason that allowed him to be here. But it was still an official occasion – and the last one where Daniel could notice anything, no less – so Hiccup made an effort not to even look at Astrid. But he still couldn’t help but listen.

“Promise me to be careful, okay?” Astrid’s voice as she tightly hugged her brother easily reached Hiccup’s ears where he stood next to Eret, even with how low and muffled it was.

“I’m always careful,” Daniel replied, smiling encouragingly at his sister as he retreated. “You’ll see, I’ll be back before you even noticed I was gone.” Something in Daniel’s voice sounded off as he said that, but Hiccup had no time to pin down what exactly it was. It might just be him being tired anyway.

“I certainly hope so,” Dagur chimed in, his trademark grin plain across his face. Nothing seemed to be able to dull his bright mood, not even one of his friends heading off into a war zone. “Because it’s all getting real now, you know? And I can’t wait to be a part of it all this summer. Thor, it feels like forever until then!”

Daniel grimaced slightly, but didn’t comment further. He accepted Dagur’s goodbye hug with something of a forced smile, then turned to Eret. As they hugged too, Hiccup heard murmured words he wasn’t sure he was supposed to hear.

“Promise me to keep an eye on her for me.”

“I always will,” Eret replied, voice equally low. “Don’t worry. As long as we stay here, nothing will happen to her.”

Again, Hiccup noticed a grimace crossing Daniel’s face, but it was gone in the blink of an eye. He just nodded, lips tight, then turned toward Hiccup. Giving him a hug too seemed inappropriate, and with him holding Trample it wasn’t practical anyway, so Hiccup simply reached out to shake Daniel’s hand. He was relieved when Daniel returned both the gesture and his honest smile. Apparently, all his worries from the night of the grand blot had been for nothing after all – at least in regards to their friendship. “Have a good journey,” he said. “And good luck with Redpeak. I hope it all works as planned.”

Hiccup wasn’t sure how, but that seemed to have been the wrong thing to say. Daniel winced, confusing Hiccup with a strange look and a slight shaking of his head, but it was too late to take his words back.

“Redpeak?” Eret inquired, clearly surprised. “That again? I thought you couldn’t go to Redpeak this winter.”

Hiccup threw Eret a confused look. He and Daniel had talked about little else lately, including planning the last details last night in the tavern. Where else was Daniel supposed to go? “Why shouldn’t he?” he asked, clearly puzzled, then turned back to Daniel. “I thought it was your plan to get it usable for this summer? Wasn’t that why you asked to pin down which alterations would be manageable in the short time?”

Now it was on Eret to look confused, and even Dagur leaned in. “But… weren’t you lamenting about how you won’t be able to work on Redpeak only one week ago?” Dagur asked. “I clearly remember it. It was my accolade, and…”

“And you said you can’t change the plans anymore,” Eret added, nodding. “Something about logistics, and basic material already being on its way?”

Dagur nodded, too. “And that Uncle Spite would skin you alive if you postponed the repairs to his outposts. I mean, I remember how desperately you wanted to change your plans, but I didn’t think you’d be willing to risk that.”

Eret grunted in agreement, and all three of them gave Daniel confused looks.

“Erm…” the Prince made, biting his lip. He shifted his weight from one foot to the other, clearly uncomfortable, but then nodded. “You’re right, all of you,” he sighed, shoulders slumping a bit. “It’s just… something else came up, something… important. I don’t have as much time as originally planned after all, so going to Redpeak instead became more sensible, as it’s much closer to the city of Westhill than Loki’s Teeth.”

“Something so important that you can risk aggravating Uncle Spite?” Eret asked with a raised eyebrow. “That’s got to be quite something. Is it something you can tell us?”

Daniel looked definitely pained now as he shook his head. “No, I can’t tell you. Not yet. But you’ll learn about it soon enough, don’t worry.” He sighed again. “All I can tell you is… well, let’s just say I highly expect to see you all again long before summer, before you all return home even.”

“So, you’ll be here for Swanja’s birthday?” Eret asked, clearly surprised. “That’s new.”

It was a reasonable question, Hiccup supposed. He already knew that Astrid’s birthday at the end of the winter usually marked the day House Jag’r’s herd returned to Eastervale. It was a day he dreaded, knowing it would be the last before they had to part. But he also knew that the Princess's birthday wasn’t an important enough occasion for Daniel to interrupt his campaign preparations. Or, usually not, at least.

But against his expectations, Daniel shook his head. “No, I won’t be back by then. But I’ll be back not long afterwards. There’s–” He glanced to the side, and abruptly interrupted whatever he’d meant to say. “Uh, where is Swanja?”

Upon his question, they all turned as well to where Astrid stood behind Dagur. Or at least where she had stood until a minute ago. Now, the space was blatantly empty, and Hiccup wondered how he’d missed her leaving. Sure, he was tired and hungover and had actively tried to not overly pay attention to her. But apparently, that had worked better than he'd expected.

“Uh, I don’t know. She’d been here just now, hadn’t she?” Dagur looked utterly confused, and Hiccup had to bite back laughter at the sight. Astrid’s disappearance could be alarming, but he actually wasn’t worried. Not really.

And as if he’d been able to read his thoughts, Eret snorted in amusement. Or maybe it was just that he, too, knew Astrid well enough. “Well, if she managed to slip away, there’s only one place where she’d go. We’ll pick her up once you're gone and make sure she's all right. Don’t worry, we'll keep an eye on her.” The last words were clearly directed at Daniel who nodded gratefully.

“Thanks, Eret. I know I can count on you.”

. o O o .

Hiccup couldn’t really complain about the company, he mused as Eret and Dagur accompanied him back toward the stables. It was only logical that Astrid would go there when she got the chance. According to Eret that was what she always did, and Hiccup supposed he was right. It had been what had let to their first meeting, after all.

Besides, spending time with these two was always fun, and even with knowing where Daniel was heading, their mood wasn't down in any way. The area around Westhill and the Western Mountain Range was undeniably a war zone, but Daniel had the best protection imaginable, and winter wasn’t exactly the time where the Malarians – used to their warmer climate in the West – were most active anyway.

So it wasn’t really surprising that they were in a high spirit, possibly even more light-hearted than they had been during the past days. Because now, there was nobody around anymore from who they had to hide. It was a bit strange though, he mused as he walked ahead of the other two and tried not to be too obtrusive. They had to hide their relationship just like he and Astrid did, but for other reasons and with very different perspectives for their future. Right now, he felt a little jealous at how freely they bantered, their comments much more telling then they had been with the prince around. It stung that, even with Daniel gone, it wouldn’t be possible for him and Astrid to do the same. But on the other hand, he also couldn’t really begrudge them their time, limited as it was. At least he knew that his fate, ordained by the gods, was far better than what theirs would be. So Hiccup kept himself entertained with thoughts of their future, by remembering the images he’d seen of Astrid standing in the doorway to their home and with their son in her arms. Someday, he reminded himself. Someday, that image will become the truth. The thought brought a smile to his lips. A smile that vanished when he entered the stables.

Astrid was nowhere to be seen, but he knew by now that didn’t have to mean she wasn’t here. His eyes directly flickered to the end of the corridor, and, just like last night, he noticed that the door to his stall stood slightly ajar – despite him knowing that he’d closed it properly. His heart skipped a beat before it began to pound hard in his chest. Last night, Eret and Dagur had only been here to make sure he got here. Eret had been worried, but it also had been relatively easy to persuade him to leave. Now, however? Now, they were here to search for Astrid. If she'd just been here, for Markor or to wait for them, that wouldn't have been a problem. But if she was in his stall, that meant it was on Hiccup to make sure they wouldn’t find her.

“Milady Astrid?” he called, loud. “Are you here? We’re all looking for you.” He could only hope that would be enough of a warning, enough for her to not come out of his stall and make Eret and Dagur wonder why she’d been in there in the first place. And to his relief, everything stayed quiet.

“Huh, that’s strange,” Eret muttered, looking around the hall. “I would have vouched for her to be here.” He made a few more steps forward, before he called, “Swanja? Where are you?” But again, there was no answer.

Hiccup almost hoped Eret would leave it at that and go look someplace else, when instead he went on toward the stalls. For a moment, his blood ran cold, but he quickly caught himself again. He had to do something, or Eret would surely find her.

“Maybe she’s in the tack room?” he suggested, words directed at Dagur who nodded.

“I’ll take a look,” he said, and left for the door to the attached room.

Hiccup quickly hurried forward to where Eret was peering into Markor’s stall right now.

“Well, she’s not in here either,” Eret stated needlessly, a clear frown on his face now. “I really could have sworn…”

“Maybe in one of the other stalls,” Hiccup suggested, making a snap decision at that moment. It was bold, but certainly better than to have Eret look everywhere on his own. He stepped toward the next stall on this side of the stables, Cassie’s, even as he was still turned toward Eret. “Let’s have a look; I’ll take this side and you the other one?” He indicated to the other row of stalls, where Hunter, Crusher, and Chomp were housed. Yes, bold indeed. What if Eret instead stayed on this side, to search Squish’s stall and the empty stalls in-between? Hiccup would be too far away to intervene, to maybe stand in the way so Eret wouldn’t spot her or to insist upon searching his sleeping stall at the end of the row himself. What if–

“All right.” Eret nodded, turned to hurry over to the other side, and Hiccup bit his lip, painfully, to keep a relieved gasp from escaping him. He was keenly aware that the danger of them practically catching her in his bed wasn’t fully averted yet, but at least it wasn’t as immediate anymore either.

They went on in silence until Dagur returned from the tack room. “I’ve searched the entire thing, even looked behind shelves and everywhere. Swanja isn’t in there.”

“And she’s not here either,” Eret replied tensely as he closed the door to the last stall in his row. “Hiccup?”

Hiccup could see part of Astrid’s dress peeking out from behind the straw bale where she was hiding. “No, nothing,” he called back, firmly closed the door to his stall, and, after giving himself a second to compose his face, turned toward the other two.

Dagur gave him an amused look. “Did you expect Swanja to be in there?” he asked, nodding at his stall behind him. It was obviously meant to tease him, and luckily, Hiccup didn’t need to pretend anything to react appropriately flustered.

“Well, I don’t know,” he said, blushing. “I mean, maybe she was tired and didn’t want to go back to the castle to do whatever is on her plan for today? There is a bed in there after all, and…” he trailed off, swallowing whatever other nonsense he could blurt out. “Anyway, it looks like she’s not here after all.” He was a bad liar, and he knew that. People had told him so on several occasions. All he could do was hope that this time would be different. That they would believe him.

Eret frowned, but then nodded. “All right. Maybe she knew we would look for her here first. I mean, I don’t know why she felt the need to run off, but it’s obvious that she doesn’t want to be found easily.” He sighed, then grimaced. “But we have to find her. I promised Daniel to keep an eye on her. I mean, I know she can take care of herself, but...” He trailed off, and rubbed his tattooed chin in thought.

“I know what you mean,” Dagur sighed. “She hasn’t really been herself lately.”

Hiccup rubbed the back of his neck in an attempt to appear unperturbed. He felt bad for lying to them, and even worse for leaving them worried; they meant well, after all. But even if he told them where she was, there was no way he could explain why he’d lied in the first place. Besides, Astrid hadn’t wanted them to find her, and he respected that. So he stayed silent.

“Okay, let’s see if we can find her anywhere else,” Eret eventually resigned. “Maybe she went for a walk in the forest, or sits at the swan lake. Or she might be visiting Fishlegs and Heather.”

“I hope not,” Dagur muttered. “I could go without the icy glares Heather gives me lately.”

Nodding, Eret laid his hand on Dagur’s upper arm in a comforting gesture. “I’m sure she’ll come around. But maybe we don’t need to even go there.” He turned toward the exit, but then paused to look at Hiccup. “Are you coming too?”

Hesitantly, Hiccup shook his head. “No. You know better where she might be, and I could only follow you anyway; I’d just get lost if I were to search the castle and its grounds on my own. I’ll stay here in case she shows up after all. Tend to the horses…” He shrugged. Again he hoped that the lie wasn’t too noticeable on his face.  

Apparently, it wasn’t. Eret nodded in agreement, and after they’d left the stables and the door closed behind them, he let out a heavy sigh of relief. Gods, he couldn’t wait until they wouldn’t have to hide anymore…

He wasn’t surprised at all when, upon turning away from the stable’s entry, he found that Astrid had already left his stall. He had to be more smashed than he’d thought, as he hadn’t even heard the door. What surprised him, however, was that she stood a few steps away from him. His first instinct was to go to her and take her into his arms, but there was something in her expression that kept him from doing so. It also explained why she’d come and hidden here in the first place. It seemed as if she had more on her mind than simply already missing him.

“Hey,” he began, unsure what else to say. His mind still felt sluggish. “That was… pretty risky.”

Astrid, however, didn’t say anything and just nodded. She bit her lip, obviously chewing something over in her mind, so Hiccup decided to just keep on talking until she’d made up her mind about what was bothering her.

“I mean, what if Eret had seen you? Sure, Daniel isn’t here anymore, but I didn’t get the impression that telling Eret or Dagur was what you wanted either. And surely you knew they’d come here first. I mean, not that I’m complaining. I love to have you here, and–”

“Do you?”

Hiccup broke off, and gave her an incredulous look. Where was that coming from? Scouring his mind for what he might have done to make her doubt him and coming up empty-handed, he couldn’t help but make a hesitant step toward her. “What? Of course I do!” Gods, his mind was too slow, he shouldn’t have drunk anything last night.

Astrid looked at him for a moment longer. Then she moved toward him, oddly hesitant, and stretched to brush her lips over his. Hiccup still had no idea what to make of her behaviour, so he just went along, returned her kiss and pulled her closer when she pressed for more contact. It felt wonderful, right and perfect, just like always – except that Astrid still seemed strangely tense. Or maybe he was just imagining things? His mind really wasn’t as quick as it usually was. Eventually, he gave up pondering, and pushed all distracting thoughts aside. Astrid wasn’t afraid to speak her mind, so if something bothered her, she surely would say so.

With a low moan, he gave in completely, letting her take the lead to wherever she wanted to go, returned her kisses and let his hands roam over her body when hers did the same. Gods, he loved the feeling of her small but sure hands on his skin, the light scraping of her fingernails over his abdomen, tickling, teasing, wandering further and further down until–

Grunting, Hiccup’s hand shot down to catch hers as she was about to loosen the cords on his trousers. Freya, just the light brush of her hand over his bulge had already felt amazing! But this… this was the one line he wouldn’t… couldn’t cross, the one rule he couldn’t break.

Caught between wanting to let her continue and reasoning why he couldn’t, it took Hiccup a moment to realise that Astrid had pulled back from him. But when he did, he spotted a pained expression on her face, just before she turned away from him, arms defensively crossed in front of her.

“I-I think I should go,” she mumbled, making a hesitant step away from him. “Eret and Dagur might be back any moment or… or…” she trailed off, and Hiccup could imagine all too well how she would bite her lip right now, even as he couldn’t see it.

“Astrid, wait,” he said, not really knowing what else to say. What had just happened? “What...” He reached out for her, but dropped his hand again before he could touch her. Somehow, she seemed to need space right now, even though he honestly couldn’t say why. “Why are you so upset? Did… did I do something wrong?”

For a minute, Hiccup thought she wouldn’t answer. She just stood there, back toward him and arms so tightly wrapped around herself that it looked as if she was actively trying to hold herself together. When she eventually began to speak though, her words didn’t make much sense to him at first.

“No, you didn’t,” she whispered. “It’s just… I love it when you touch me. It’s… indescribable. I want to feel you, everywhere and all the time. I can’t get enough.”

Despite the weird tension between them, a smile was tugging at Hiccup’s lips. He’d hoped that she would enjoy their physical contact and was thriving on it when she reacted like last night, but actually hearing her say it was a welcome reassurance. However, her words certainly didn’t explain her behaviour. “And… that’s bad?” he asked carefully.

Astrid shook her head, still not looking at him. “No, it’s not. It’s just… I-I want to… to make you feel the same,” she eventually burst out. She sounded strange, vulnerable. “I mean, I know I have no experience. This… it’s all so new and confusing, and I don’t know how any of this works. All I know is that you make me feel so amazing, and I just want to return that feeling. Unless… unless you don’t want me to. If you don’t want me, then…” she broke off as her voice grew more brittle with every word.

At first, Hiccup could do little else but dumbfoundedly gape at her. She thought he wouldn’t want her? That was… ridiculous! “Whether I…” he began, bewildered. “What gave you that idea? That’s completely–”

“Then why won’t you let me touch you?” she interrupted him, sounding even more vulnerable than before. “I know that I’m not any good, but I’m willing to learn. I just…” She shrugged awkwardly with her arms still wrapped around herself.

“You think...” he whispered, unsure whether she could even hear him. Was she serious? She thought that he didn’t want her to touch him? Feverishly, he tried to come up with a way to explain, to make her understand, but he could only come up with one sensible solution. It was still a stupid one, one he shouldn’t pick. Because he wanted her too much. But Astrid was hurting over this misunderstanding, and if that was the only way to explain himself…

With two quick steps, Hiccup approached her and took her into a tight embrace. So far, he’d always tried to be as careful as possible with what exactly he let her feel of his body, both because he hadn’t wanted to spook her and because he already wanted her more than was good for him, even without her body pressing and rubbing against his cock with every other movement.

But this time was different. This time, he deliberately pressed his crotch against her back, letting her feel just how much he wanted her. The unexpected contact made him twitch in eager anticipation, something Astrid apparently felt too, judging by her hiccupy intake of breath.

However, he didn’t want to upset her further, in any way. “Silly woman,” he murmured softly against her neck. “Of course I want you. Gods, Astrid, you have no idea just how... appealing you are to me.” He paused, trying to think of how to explain himself. “I… don’t know what exactly the Temple taught you, but–”

With a harsh snort, she bit out, “Assume that they taught me nothing!”

Hiccup blinked at her tone; he’d heard her annoyed, even angry, but that sounded like ages of frustration finding a target. However, as she settled back against him, she felt less tense, so that was good. It meant she wasn’t angry – or at least not angry at him!

Swallowing against the heat coursing through his body, Hiccup nodded against her hair. “Do you feel this?” he asked in a rough voice as he pressed himself a little closer, the friction making him twitch again. Astrid nodded. “When they're aroused, men get… hard. And that's what you can feel right now, me being aroused beyond being able to make sensible decisions.” He chuckled shakily. “And it's all because of you. You ask whether I even want you to touch me? Freya, yes, I want that. More than you can imagine.” Oh, yes, this hadn't been a wise idea, Hiccup thought as a shudder ran through his body. Gods, he wanted her so much… And Astrid shifting in his arms and further rubbing against him didn't exactly help either.

“Then… why won't you let me?” she asked again in a small voice, at complete odds with her tone a moment before.

Gasping out another desperate laugh, Hiccup let his forehead drop until it rested on her shoulder. “Because I don’t trust myself,” he mumbled, the embarrassing truth of those words making him glad that she wasn’t looking at him right now. “We both know that we can’t have sex just yet, but I fear that… that if we get to close, neither of us will be able or willing to stop. So it is my responsibility to make sure. And this is the rule I gave myself; that I would always keep my trousers on around you. If I don’t take them off, nothing can happen.”

In his arms, Astrid noticeably relaxed, further leaning into his embrace. “I wish you’d told me about that,” she breathed, laughing nervously. “That would have saved me quite a few hours of distress. Or the whole charade of sneaking away and hiding here, for that matter.”

“I’m sorry,” Hiccup murmured, gulping. “I know it’s my task to explain everything to you, but I’m not really doing a good job, am I? I… I’m just trying to go slowly, to not overwhelm you. There are many things we haven’t talked about yet, but I thought we would do so when they come up. But be assured, me holding back has nothing to do with not wanting you. Gods, Astrid, the things I want to do…” Hiccup trailed off, his whole body trembling with just thinking about the options. Those would be two horribly long years…

“What would you want to do?”

Distracted as he was by the images in his head, Astrid’s question caught him a little off guard. “Excuse me?”

She hesitated, then wiggled in his arms until she’d turned around to face him. There was a mix of curiosity, excitement, and anticipation gleaming in her eyes, and Hiccup already knew that it would be tough to turn down whatever she wanted. “If we could do whatever we want to… what would you do? Right now, I mean. Can you tell me? Or show me?”

“Astrid…” he began, pained, but she didn’t even let him really start his complaint.

“I get that restriction, that rule you put up, and I respect it,” she said, smiling up at him so prettily that Hiccup felt like he could fall in love with her all over again. “But I’m so curious, want to know how it all works.” She shrugged. “So I thought, maybe at least talking about it is okay?”

Hiccup bit back something like a desperate groan. Simply talking could already be enough to make him combust and soil yet another pair of trousers. But she had a point, and not talking would only cause more confusion. “You’re right,” he said in a low voice, nodding. He took a minute to think, but then decided he just as well could stop minding having to wash his clothes more regularly. This was all they could do for now, so they better made the best of it as long as they had the time.

More content now with their situation, Hiccup somewhat regained his confidence. “You want to know what I’d like to do if we could?” he asked in a rough voice.

Astrid, who apparently had noticed the change in him, just nodded mutely, eyes shining brightly.

He moved, gently guiding Astrid backwards until she hit a pile of neatly stacked straw bales. Fighting down a last flicker of nerves, he lifted her so that she sat on those bales, at just the right height. “If we could,” he murmured, his hands sliding down her legs to hoist up her skirts. “Then I’d like to take you like this.” His eyes never left hers as he stepped between her parted legs, always looking for a hint of uneasiness or discomfort. But there was nothing the like, only joyful anticipation. He made another step so that their bodies touched, his bulge against her crotch. Even through their clothes, he could feel her heat, could tell by the slide that she was wet, aroused. It made the heat inside himself burn even hotter; having blood in his head to help him think was not a priority anymore.

“If you’d let me, if it were possible,” he went on, hands gliding around to settle on her hips. “Then I’d push into you now, slow and deep, savouring.” He pressed himself closer against her which drew a beautiful little gasp from her. The sound made him buck forward, making her yelp in return and left them both gazing at each other through dazed eyes. He bucked again, deliberate now, and Astrid’s moan was almost enough to undo him on the spot.

“I would want you to feel me,” he muttered in-between panted breaths as he kept moving back and forth. “And to feel you in return, your tight heat. I want to hear you, want to taste you.” He leaned in to dip his tongue into her mouth, even as they were both too distracted to kiss properly. Astrid’s hands were on his shoulders now, clutching, pulling him closer.

Hiccup let his head drop to her shoulder as he increased the pace of his movements. One arm was around her waist, the other around her back, holding her tight as he kept grinding their bodies together, her sweet moans in his ear. “I want to mark you,” he mumbled against the bare skin of her shoulder. “And to be marked by you. I want to be one with you in every possible way. Gods, I love you, Astrid. And the day you become my wife will be the happiest day of my life.”

Astrid’s response was little more than a string of whimpers, gasps, and moans. He could tell that she was moving with him by instinct, intensifying the friction even more, and he knew that, if someone were to come in now, he couldn’t have cared less in that moment. All that mattered was Astrid, how she clutched him tightly, rutting against him until the most sinful of moans left her. Her orgasms were always beautiful, thrilling, the way she shook as pleasure consumed her. And just like last night, it was more than enough to let him tip over the edge as well. Muffling his desperate howl against her skin, he came, shuddering, pressed against Astrid as tightly as possible.

His mind had barely begun to work again, when her trembling laughter reached his ears. “Mmmh, yeah,” she hummed. “I can’t wait for when we can do this for real either.”

Hiccup couldn’t help but laugh, free and liberated, and it only took a second or three until Astrid chimed in as well. Gods, how was it possible that he was allowed to be with her?

. o O o .

Feeling much lighter than she had this morning, Astrid left the stables a few hours after she’d hidden herself there. When she reached the top of the small hill, she couldn’t help but turn to look back one last time. But just as they’d agreed upon, the doors were already closed, Hiccup not standing there to gaze after her.

It was a miracle that nobody had barged in on them, all things considered; they couldn’t risk blowing their cover now just by prolonging their farewell. It wasn’t for long anyway; she’d be back in a few hours. The thought made her smile, despite the prospect of being found by Eret or Dagur at any moment, and of getting scolded by a whole lot of people for sneaking away.

But it had been worth it. After last night, when even in his drunk eagerness Hiccup hadn’t let her touch him, she’d felt so confused, conflicted. It wasn’t that she’d really doubted Hiccup’s feelings for her… But she had wondered, had feared what his reluctance could mean. She’d wanted to give him everything, but hadn’t been sure whether that would be enough.

Now though? Now, she was appeased. Hiccup’s explanation had been logical and practical, enough to make her see reason too while at the same time letting every single one of her troubled thoughts evaporate. But it was even more than just that. She’d learned another lesson today; the lesson that she could ask Hiccup everything. And she would. They only had a few weeks left, but she intended to get as much out of those as possible, to spend every moment she could with him and to learn whatever she could.

“Thank Odin, there you are!” called suddenly a voice from behind her, and Astrid turned to give Eret a sheepish smile. “We’ve been looking for you forever. Where have you been?”

Astrid shrugged nonchalantly. “Oh, I’ve been just walking around in the woods,” she said matter-of-factly. She’d already planned ahead what she would tell him after all, had even taken a large detour on her way back to the castle to hide where she’d actually been. “The moment I return to the castle, my governess regains control over my life again, and I wanted to avoid that as long as possible.”

“Yeah, I thought so,” Eret sighed, and she could tell by the grimace on his face that he didn’t really blame her for sneaking away. “And I understand. But I’d still prefer if someone knows where you are if you need to hide. You know I’d even cover for you, right?”

“Thanks, Eret.” The smile she gave him, though be it an honest one, still felt like a lie. She believed him; he would cover for her, had already done so in previous years. He was trustworthy, more so than almost everybody else she knew. And yet, she couldn’t let him know the truth. She wasn’t even sure whether he would actually betray her trust when it came to her relationship with Hiccup. But if she told him her secret, she would effectively force him to lie to Daniel when they met come summer, and that was a burden she didn’t want to place on her friend. So she just wound her arm through his in a familiar gesture as they walked back toward the castle. “I appreciate the offer, and maybe I’ll even take you up on it. But for today, I think my time is up.”

The walk back to the castle was filled with companionable silence, a last reprieve before life came crashing down on her again. But even having her governess scold her for her sudden absence wasn’t able to make her regret or feel bad in any way. Everything was worth it when it meant she could spend time with Hiccup.

The rest of the day went just as she’d expected. After the scolding came lessons, but in what Astrid couldn’t remember, her governess’s words not even registering in her mind. Eating dinner felt… different though. It wasn’t quiet or boring with the Grand Dukes, Eret and Dagur keeping her and her father company. But Daniel’s absence seemed to hover over her like a dark cloud. It wasn’t that she was worried for him, not really. But with him gone...   

At the end of the day, she let herself fall into the soft cushions of her bed, sighing deeply. It sounded theatrically, even to herself, even though it was only halfway exaggerated. Turning her head, she glanced at the wooden horse standing on her bedside table. Ruff had seen how it had been a part of her gifts and probably assumed it came from Eret – and Astrid hadn’t corrected her. It meant that Astrid had felt free to place the figurine into her bedchamber, that she now had a physical reminder of Hiccup right there next to her bed. Which was good.

Now that Daniel had left, her life would return to its usual routine of lessons in embroidery and etiquette, painting and socialising. Maybe she would be allowed a free afternoon with Eret and Dagur every now and then, but that would be it. It was a depressing prospect, and if it weren’t for the nights with Hiccup, she might have screamed.

But at least she had those nights – for now at least.

~ The End Of Part 2 ~

. o O o .

So, yeah... Again the reminder that this story will be on hiatus now until April 5th.

Next Chapter

[marauder--harder]

Walls Built- A Sirius Black Imagine (Part 6 of Alone Together)

A/N: I know I said that this would be up some time last night and I swear I had it ready to go. But then, I was doing my last reread and decided to go in a different direction. I think this one is better, albeit much more sad. This chapter also hit a bit too close to home as I wrote a lot of what I’ve been feeling lately into this. Anyways, I hope you guys enjoy and I promise that it won’t be sad forever! Things will start to look up soon! (Hopefully (: )

Past Installments: Alone Together. (part 1) - Implementations. (part 2) - Routines. (part 3) - Replacements. (part 4) - Revelations. (part 5) 

As you walked into Potions, you shivered with a groan. Another day you forgot your jumper. You actually had it too, but Lily was rushing you so much that you forgot it on your bed. Now you’d have to suffer through the cold lesson and Remus’ teasing.

“Morning Y/N.” Remus smiled as he sat down next to you. His arm reached out and ruffled your hair slightly, then set a delicious looking pumpkin pasty in front of you. He looked surprisingly pleasant and chipper this morning; you thought he’d be more fatigued as the full moon passed just four days prior. It usually took Remus a full week to get back to his usual self, and you looked at him curiously.

“What are you up to?” You asked, eyeing him suspiciously.

He simply smiled in mock surprise and tried to look sheepish. “I don’t know what you are referring to. Can’t I just wish you a good morning?”

As you studied his face you noticed the smile on his face that always seemed to calm you. It was a hidden talent that Remus had, he was always just a reassuring presence in your life. He really was like a brother to you, so much so you started calling him ‘big brother’ whenever you thought he was being overbearing.

His smile seemed amused, as if he was trying not to laugh at getting caught for something he did wrong. His eyes held a mirth that confirmed he had other intentions. Yet, under his eyes were dark bags that showed how he really was feeling such a short time after the full moon.

“Remus, you can wish me a good morning, yes. But it has only been four days since, you know, and I honestly didn’t expect to see you back so soon. Then you show up not tired at all, and almost too happy. You’re up to something, but what?”

He rolled his eyes playfully and his smile drooped slightly. With your accusation he seemed to acquiesce and slump his shoulders into the more familiar weary stance you’d expect.

“Fine, fine, you caught me. I just wanted to try and cheer you up. I know things have been hard lately, with the whole Sirius thing, and you’ve kind of been shutting yourself off from the rest of us because of it. I guess I just wanted to help you get over him. The marauders miss you, you know.”

Your heart constricted painfully and you felt tears prick in the back of your eyes. Taking in a deep breath and blinking them away, you smiled at him softly.

“I should have known, big brother. I’m sorry I’ve been ignoring you guys lately, it’s just,” you paused, trying to convey how difficult it was to see him everywhere you went. “—hard, I guess. But you don’t have to do this for me. A simple, ‘hey, Y/N, stop being an arse’ would have sufficed.”

He chuckled and shook his head. “Yes, but this way I can bribe you with more food.”

For the first time in quite a while your heart swelled with joy as you laughed.

“I suppose you’re right. After all, I have to get something out of this friendship.”

As the two of you laughed together, you couldn’t help but start to feel a bit lighter than you had in the week prior. Then a cold draft blew through and brought you back to reality with another shiver. Damn this bloody dungeon.

“No jumper?” Remus asked sympathetically.

You shook your head in response and looked down remembering the last time you had forgotten your sweater. The all too familiar ache settled deep in your chest and you sighed deeply. This wasn’t right, you had to get over him.

Just then, you felt an odd feeling of deja vu hit you. A sickeningly familiar scent washed over you and you stared down at a black mass of soft material. It was Sirius’ sweater. Your eyes snapped up and you met his in shock.

“You forgot your jumper again, Y/N?” He asked and you looked away as you heard his enthralling voice utter your name for the first time since the night he broke your heart.

“I—uh,” you paused, unsure as to how to react to his question. You wanted to lie to him, tell him that you were actually fine, but the same phrase kept echoing in your mind.

“You never were very good at lying.”

Your chest swelled with the familiar heat of rising anger and swirled with the painful soreness of loneliness that made itself a home there long ago.

You took in a deep breath and glanced at Remus who was staring at Sirius with a scolding glare before looking back up at him. You picked up his sweater and extended your arm out to him.

“Yeah, but I actually don’t feel all that cold. Thanks anyways, Sirius.”

Sirius blinked as he saw you smiling at him. It was tight lipped and almost sharp, leaving him confused. You were never one to refuse his jumpers. You were never one to shut him out, to put the walls up around him.

He really fucked up.

After the young boy stuttered a halfhearted response and walked away, all of your anger dissipated. You felt bad about rejecting his offer, since it seemed like it was his first offer at things going back to normal. Yet you couldn’t do it; it hurt too much. You couldn’t do normal, because you didn’t feel normal.

You had to remind yourself that he didn’t care about you. He wanted you gone. You passed the line of friendship when you invited him to stay with you all those nights ago, but stopped before whatever you had ever entered a real relationship. You were in a no man’s land and sadly realized that it meant you had nothing with him at all.

Your rejection hurt. He didn’t know why, as it honestly should have been expected. You were angry with him for abandoning you in a time that you needed a friend. He was too selfish, wanting more, and knowing that he couldn’t have it he decided it would be easiest to avoid you altogether.

He didn’t even quite know what compelled him to offer his jumper to you in the first place. It was a bit cold in Potions and when he looked over at you and Remus smiling over his gift to you, he couldn’t help but want to do something as well. He thought that since you usually forgot your extra layers it would be a good way to get on your good side again.

He was wrong, very wrong.

Later that night, you woke to the familiar shake that had repeatedly pulled you from your fitful slumbers months prior. Confused and disoriented, you squinted in the dark.

“S-Sirius?” It was a question more than a statement, torn between not believing he was there and a desperation for you not to be hallucinating.

A harsh, broken sigh came from above you and you felt the bed dip next to you.

“Le’ me stay, Y/N.” His words were slurred, his voice was rough, and his usual intoxicating scent was different. The state of the boy sitting at the edge of your bed made you question whether this was really Sirius.

He looked vaguely like Sirius in the dark, but you knew that your mind was often one to deceive you, especially in the long and painful nights of the past month. Your hand slowly reached out and touched his, which was currently supporting the slightly swaying body attached to it.

“Awh, wan’na hold my han’, love?”

The teasing tone sobered you and you blinked in the dark. If this was Sirius, he must be drunk. The thought weaselled its way to the front of your tired mind and it clouded with anger. The boy who had been effectively ignoring you for months was now here, right where you wanted him to be, and it left a bitter taste in your mouth. You didn’t want him there just to leave again. Sirius wasn’t someone who you thought you could give up that easily. It had taken a month just to get to the point you were at now, which was far from being okay again. Plus, you knew he probably wouldn’t remember coming there in the morning, if the smell of what you now realized was firewhiskey was anything to go by. The thought of him needing to be drunk just to talk to you caused a pit to form in your stomach.

Snatching your hand away from his, you scooted further away from him. “No, Sirius, I don’t.”

The harsh tone in your voice travelled to his ears and after just a moment too long, left a confused furrow settled in his brows. “Why not?”

“Because you are drunk, and you need to leave.” The quicker he left, the quicker you could go back to the way things were.

You watched with an almost amused expression as he shook his head furiously, like a petulant child. “But I wan’na be wit’ you. I missss you.”

You heard, rather than felt, the air leave your lungs. His half-hearted, drunk confession knocked the wind out of you and you felt like you couldn’t breathe. You heard the faint voices echo in your head, as you remembered that night.

“You’re right.”

Your brows furrowed. “I am?”

He nodded once. “You’re right. I don’t care.”

He doesn’t care about you.

He wanted you gone.

You have nothing with him at all.

You repeated those words until you had enough air in your burning lungs to compose yourself. You forced your heart to steel over and pushed down the ache of longing for him. You instead grasped at the feeling of hurt and pain you had felt night after night sleeping by the heat of the common room fire. You frantically searched for the feeling of that heat, as it was wrongfully the only thing keeping you warm in the middle of the night. It was the one thing that kept your broken heart from freezing over before it healed. You needed it to be your stronghold and the fuel to your own fire as you stared at the drunk boy your heart mistakenly fell for.

For many moments Sirius stared at you, actually three of you, and wondered if you were going to  speak. Somewhere in the back of his sober mind he knew this was a mistake; but had he not felt the coldness from you earlier that day he may have been able to refuse the yearning for your touch he always felt deep in his bones. It hurt him most on the nights like tonight; nights where he had seen you in the day prior, and itched to reach out for contact. He felt as if his skin was on fire and you were the only thing that could cool him. As he stared into your eyes, his skin tingling from your touch, he tried to think clearly enough to debate whether he should confess everything to you.

But you found your resolve first, and took in a deep, steady, strong breath before exhaling a loud sigh.

“Go, Sirius.”

He blinked once, then twice. “What?”

“Go. Leave.”

He faltered and all thoughts of explaining rushed to the front of his mind. Now, his drunk mind protested, he needed to tell you, before it was too late. “Y/N, love, plea’ le’mme explain.”

“No, let me. You are plastered and I am tired so let’s just get this over with, shall we? You got drunk, got lonely—or whatever your version of it is, I’m sure, because you obviously were never lonely before—and decided that it would be a bloody perfect idea to visit the girl you have barely spoken two words to in months! You decided that it was a good idea to barge in and try to pick up right where you left off.

“Of course! Because, nothing has changed in Y/N’s life! Why would it? She wouldn’t care, she’d be just so happy to see me, the perfect Sirius Black! It doesn’t matter that I’ve left her out in the cold for nearly a month, with only herself to be with, after she told me how much it hurts to have everyone in her life leave her! I was feeling suffocated by her before, but now that it is convenient to me, she’ll be just bloody ecstatic to have me back in her bed! In her life!

“Well, I’m sorry Sirius, but I’m not happy to see you. So please, just leave. I can’t see you, I can’t be this lonely buddy of yours anymore. I can’t be a person you only come to when you need me. I can’t afford to feel safe again just for you to leave. I don’t want to hurt anymore so just—” your voice broke and closed your eyes tight to stop the tears from falling.

Minutes went by with angry fists balled at your sides, a head hung low in shame, and eyes shut to force the tears away. You blew up at him, and didn’t know why. Truth is, you would have been happy to have Sirius back; but knew that he was only there because his inebriated mind took him there. It wasn’t because a rational thinking Sirius Black wanted to be.

Opening your eyes, you blinked and stared down at your own feet that were now standing on the cold, wooden floor. You suppose that at some point in your anger you must have stood. You took in yet another deep, but shaky breath; and the heat of the fire you previously clung to had finally burnt out, leaving only the stifling smoke of what was burned in its wake. Looking up slowly, you set your eyes on where Sirius sat and blinked.

He was gone.

Your bed was tousled, but you knew that was from you. He left no footprints on the floor, no indication that he was there. The curtain was pulled mostly shut, and you desperately tried to remember if you closed it all the way before you cast your ritual silencing spell that night. You were glad you had remembered to put it up that night, as your yelling would have surely woken your roommates.

You stood in the deafening silence of your room for a few minutes before you heard the faint sound of someone crying. Your feet moved before your brain could process it and walked over to your partially open curtain. You peeked your head out and looked around to see your roommates all sleeping peacefully.

Your brow furrowed in confusion as you licked your chapped lips and tasted a slight hint of salt. Suddenly, with a jolt, you quickly closed the curtain, realizing that the sound of cries was actually you.

You turned around and laid back down in your bed, pressing yourself far into your pillow. You felt the wetness of the tears, but could no longer hear the sound of your own sobs over the thought screaming in your head.

Was he real?

Tag List: (Names with a strike are those that do not work. Message me if that is you.) 

@faypol , @siriuslyymoonyy , @draqcnheartstrinq , @fayrizo , @obscurilicious , @perorulou , @violentcrying , @felelotlen-felhotlen , @decaffeinated-student-cheesecake , @heidimonkey , @fantasticchaoticwho , @dedellia , @bringitbacktothebasics , @tattoos-and-skinny-jeans , @gingertheravenclaw , @mustymammary

Let me know if you want to be tagged! 

[redfivewritingby]

If you like reading about the writing process and fic, I’ve written a couple paragraphs about two pieces of artwork in particular that inspired the first scene. It’s spoils something about the chapter so I’ve hidden it beneath the fold. But please do go back and read it because I want you all to know just how amazing @nim-lock‘s art is! 

Chapter Summary: No one ever said fishing was easy especially when your prey is the world's fiercest predator. It's been one week since their arrival, and Will and Hannibal have nothing to show for their efforts. Well, maybe not NOTHING. Will and Hannibal have certainly become a lot closer. 

Story Summary: Hannibal and Will are dispatched to a sleepy beach town in south Georgia where a killer shark is terrorizing the citizens. Smelling blood in the water, Hannibal sees an opportunity to draw Will further into his world, but he’ll need the right bait to catch the luckless FBI agent

Beta’ed by @wolftrapqueen27.

New to the story? Start at the beginning here.

Chapter 10: Georgia On My Mind

As the sun set, it blanketed the ocean with a coat of red paint. Will sat on the transom of the boat dangling his feet in the water. Many yards off, Alana swam in a wide circle. Her arrival in Georgia had been a surprise: one that was appreciated but not entirely welcomed.  

It had been almost a week since he and Hannibal had gone looking for Moby Dick, and Will felt himself already much changed by the experience. Georgia was not Louisiana, but it was close enough to affect a difference in his mannerisms and thought patterns. He felt sharp around the edges and as taut as an eighty pound bow. Hannibal had surely noticed it. Alana would too soon enough. Did Will want that? The answer was both a yes and no. He liked that he felt almost like the man who had killed Garret Jacob Hobbes without having to kill anyone. Maybe it was even the man he needed to be to catch both the shark and the Chesapeake Ripper, but there would be a cost. There always was.

It was hot and quiet except for the churn of the ocean and the erratic splashing Alana made as she moved through it.  Her milk white arms dipped in and out of the sanguinary salt water as she swam. Will watched Alana and thought about Hannibal’s hands as he tucked Will into bed every night out of concern for his safety. His friends. Usually it was the friends and family that paid a price. Will had had a family once...sort of. He’d had a mother. She left. He’d had a father. He...died. His family might be safe from him, but his friends...

“Looks like I didn't escape after all, Dad,” Will said as he dipped his hand into the water. He expected his skin to come up red, but the water remained clear in his hands. That didn’t seem right. His hands shouldn’t be clean. Will shivered despite what the sweat soaked shirt suggested about the temperature outside, which meant his fever was back. Damn. Will removed his shirt and wiped his face on it. He left it sitting on the deck when he was done.  

A large splash off the port side drew his attention away. He stood and hopped back onto the deck to investigate; but whatever had caused the noise had already slipped back beneath the surface by the time he reached the gunwale. Only a cloud of white sea foam and a black, oily slick remained on top of the water. Will didn't want to believe what he was seeing, but there was no denying it. The air was thick with the corrosive smell of salt and copper. That was blood, not oil, that bobbed on the waves and licked the hull of the boat--a lot of blood.

“ALANA’” Will shouted and scrambled for the stern. “Get out of the water!”

Alana looked at him and laughed, but she swam for the boat.

“Hurry! Hurry!” Will urged her and leaned over the side extending his hand as far as he could reach.  How could he be so stupid? Why had he let her go swimming!?

Behind Alana a black fin broke the surface of the water with a hiss.  

“Alana!” Will cried in anguish. She was almost within reach, but the shark was closing in on her rapidly. Too rapidly. One didn't need to be a profiler to know what was about to happen.

Continue reading on AO3

I AM SO EXCITED ABOUT THIS CHAPTER! It is one of my favorites and I’ve been waiting to share it with you. Let’s take a little trip back in time. Last fall I had just finished When We Belonged to the Sea (my other mermaid story) and Maneater was still in a super ungodly rough stage. Acts two and three were barely outlined beyond a base sketch and it was kinda a frustrating time.

The outline of this chapter began with the simple notation: “Will has a nightmare on the water.  Allude to his growing awareness of Hannibal’s predatory nature. Shark metaphors?” I tried a couple of takes and wasn’t super satisfied with any of them and then I saw this utterly gorgeous piece of artwork by @nim-lock and it all clicked into place. @nim-lock’s art even inspired me to go back through the chapters I had already written and push Hannibal in a more sinister direction. Their style just so perfectly hit on the dark, stark, but playful tone I was trying to reach and kept missing in the rough draft. Their work was a real inspiration at a particularly tough point of the writing process. So thank you @nim-lock! Please keep doing what you do! <3

Do take a moment to check out their art because it is ALL to die for! Especially these amazing pieces of sharcannibal (1 | 2). 

This is also the chapter where during one rewrite I unwittingly ran afoul of some EXTRA proof whiskey during a binge of The Crown and woke up the next morning with a hangover and surprise corgis in my fic. At the behest of @damnslippyplanet, the corgis stayed so here at long last are those corgis. In the original draft, I accidentally forgot to have the dogs follow Vaughn off the boat so basically Will kidnapped the Mayor’s dogs for a day and hilarity ensued.  This seemed a tad too silly even for me and made the chapter largely about Will’s dog hoarding instead of his evolution as a murder monster so it had to come out regretfully. 

[thegladelf]

TQG Snippet

As I mentioned earlier, I’m looking for a small group of people (5-10) who would be willing to be an audience for my novel. I’ll be posting chapters on a password protected blog and hopefully knowing I have a reader or two will help me stay motivated to finish this draft (yes, this is the project that makes me want to walk in to traffic). 

I wanted to post a little bit of a snippet for y’all so you can decide if it’s something you’re interested in. If you are intrigued, you can message me (or reply to this post, likes won’t count) and I’ll respond with the blog and password. 

Please keep in mind, that I’m looking for a small, private group and the better I know you, the more comfortable I will be with sharing my work. That’s not to discourage anyone, it’s just to let you know that there won’t be space for everyone who is interested. I’ll wait until the weekend to decide who to pass passwords out to. Advance thanks to anyone who does express interest.

All that I need from anyone who is chosen is that they like each chapter once they’ve read it. That’s it. That’s all. You will be more than welcome to do more if you like. My askbox and messages will be open (extra points if you spam me with requests for the next chapter when I’m slacking--not sure what the points could be used for, but I’ll give them to you.) I’m hoping to get on a one chapter a week update schedule and chapters are typically pretty short...between 2-5k.

Disclaimer: This is the first of what I hope will be a series, so it doesn’t exactly...end. I mean it ends, but the main plot is unresolved and I’m not working on book two until book one sells. I know that drives some people up the wall, so you have been warned. 

PLEASE DO NOT REBLOG THIS POST.

Thank you.

(The following is the intellectual property of Margaret S., aka, thegladelf)

CHAPTER ONE

“I don’t want to cause any trouble, Kaitlyn.”

“But you do want to see the queen,” my sister whispers, winding a lock of hair around her finger in an innocent and very un-Kaitlyn-like manner. Everything about her right now feels off, from the neat, tidy braids in her curled, blonde hair to the expensive court dress she wears. Kaitlyn leans in closer, lowering her voice even more—the thick curtain that serves as our door falls short of its duties and our other sisters’ conversations flutter blithely through.

“You don’t know that.” Unlike my sister, I am not done up for an audience with the queen. Just as well, my drab, brown braid is a half-unraveled mess from the number of times I’ve twisted it around my fingers.

“You have to trust me on this, little sister. This will be her last appearance before the court.”

“But…”

Kaitlyn rests a hand on my shoulder, squeezing gently. “If you keep to the back, Father won’t even notice you.”

“Father always notices when I do something I shouldn’t,” I mutter. It takes conscious effort to unclench my hands, wipe them down my skirt, breathe. “I don’t want to disappoint him.”

Kaitlyn sighs. “I know little sister.” Our mattress rustles as she stands. One hand darts into her pocket, pulling out a sheet of paper. She shoves it under my nose. “Here. If you change your mind, I’ve made a map of sorts. I know you’re comfortable with this place yet.”

I glare up at her. “This wasn’t worth a whole sheet of paper.”

“Apparently this wasn’t either according to our sister. I stole it from her burn pile.”  Snatching the paper from my hand, she turns it over to reveals one Elaine’s discarded love letters. “This is probably your only chance to see the queen, Gena. The rumors aren’t exaggerated this time, why else would Queen Cressida looking for a Royal Apprentice?”

“Father said to stay here.”

Kaitlyn folds the map in half with quick, crisp motions and then in quarters and eighths. She doesn’t ask, just tucks it in the pocket of my skirt. Her eyes drill into me for a long minute and then she shrugs, fluffing her curls like one of our other sisters might. She hardly looks like the barefoot girl who dragged me over every inch of our father’s estate.

“Kaitlyn!”

“I’m coming.” She ducks through the curtain, long skirts swishing.

Rosalind, the oldest of my sisters, pops her head through for just moment. She wears her fine dress with more ease than Kaitlyn, her hair a similar mass of coils and braids.

She smiles. “We’ll be back soon. I’m sure you’ll enjoy the quiet.”

I return her smile. She has a point.

My sisters’ chattering cuts off at the thud of the door and I fall back onto the bed I share with Kaitlyn, pressing the heels of my hands to my eyes. I take a deep breath. And then another.

And I reach for my book. A novel I’ve read a dozen times at least, but Father owns so few novels, that is the case with all of them. The mattress crackles as I settle, ropes creak. Candlelight flickers across the page as I try to focus, but my hand keeps slipping into my pocket. After the fifth time in as many minutes, I pull out the map. Paper shushes against my book as I unfold it. It’s simple, bare lines and scrawled instructions—Kaitlyn didn’t bother with her fancy formal handwriting here—one only reads “Count three doors and turn left here”. One set of lines breaks off just shy of the queen’s throne room, leading to a box labeled “library”.

Perhaps my sister hasn’t forgotten who I am after all.

Even as big as the palace is, I can probably manage. And what better time to go exploring King’s Keep than while everyone else waits on the queen. Combing my fingers through my hair, I twist it into a tidier braid and fasten it with one of Kaitlyn’s discarded hair ribbons.

A quick look out the door reveals an empty hallway. I blow out the candle, setting it on the table by the door as I slip out of the room. Dim light illuminates the hallway in the noble’s quarters, not the flickering light of a torch, but the steady glow of a mage-spelled light. It must have cost a fortune to hang magelights every twenty feet—I resist the urge to calculate a more exact number.

I resist the urge to calculate the expense of hanging magelights every twenty feet. Shelby manor only has one. The pale blue to soft white as I approach, flooding the corridor with counterfeit daylight. After four days at court, I know better than to look at the lights directly, but my first trip down this corridor white spots danced across my vision nearly the entire way.

The map folds neatly into my palm, its edges rough against my fingers when I open it to check my route after each turn. Solitude wraps around me. My footsteps are the only ones rustling across the rush-covered floor. Four days of constant company had me longing for home. Strange to miss the silence of my room now after I spent the last year longing for the chatter that filled it before my sisters were all at court. I’ll be back to it soon enough. A few months as court to prove Father has no reason to hide me away and he’ll send me home, where I can always expect my stepmother’s smile. And the giggles my brothers bestow on me for the smallest reasons. The smell of ink as I tally the household books. The peddler’s exasperated sigh after he’s been haggled down to a reasonable price. Shelby is expected, is it in my blood, it is the best place in the world. I would stay there forever if I had the choice.

As I pass from the noble’s quarters to the common areas, the scenery changes. As I draw nearer to the queen’s wing plain, white-washed plaster gains a coat of soft blue paint, which changes into carved wooden paneling. The work of an artist. Flowers unfurl from the wall. Animals poised to frolic right out of the wood. And the tapestries, stretched ceiling to the floor and continuing on for ten to fifteen feet at a time. Their stories beckon me, but the queen’s audience will only last so long and I want to be back in my room by the time everyone returns.

The further I travel, the less the emptiness comforts. It cloys. It crawls. Any moment now, someone will burst out, demand what business a simple, country girl has so close to the queen’s quarters. I reach the final turn with a sigh, the paper quivering in my hand. I check one last time, tracing my route back, trying to remember the turns I made to get here, to be sure.

My eyes linger on the other box.

I swallow.

What if my sister is right?

With a deep breath, I fold up the map and continue straight ahead.

...

I believe @swanscaptn requested a tag.