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lifeofkaze · 4 years ago

Note

Hi love!

Sorry for bothering you, but could you do something like really cute and fluffy between Charlie Weasley and reader where he's all shy and delicate maybe teaching her about dragons and their characteristics pls? Like, something that feels really intimate, you know?

I absolutely love your writing and I believe that you could make justice to the character.

Take care darling,

-A

Thank you for the request, loveliest anon! This is actually the first fic request I’ve ever gotten and I’m so happy you like my stuff so much, this makes me very very soft.

This fluff piece was just what I needed to get my mojo back hopefully. Please let me know if this is like what you had in mind - I for one had a lot of fun with it! <3

***

Favourites

Charlie Weasley x Reader

Word Count: ~ 2.800

As a Care of Magical Creatures test covering dragons of all things is imminent and you were too distracted in class to pay proper attention, you know just who to turn to for help.

“You want me to do what?”

Charlie Weasley blinked at you in confusion. He could feel his blood rushing in his ears as he looked at you standing in front of him, clutching you Care for Magical Creatures book to your chest as you raised your eyebrows at him.

“I asked if you could help me studying for the test next week?” you repeated your question, brow slightly furrowed. “I can’t keep track of all these dragon traits and who would know them better than you?”

Charlie felt the heat creeping up on his face. Of course, the test. It was all he had been able to think about ever since Professor Kettleburn had announced the topic; all except you of course.

He tried to formulate a coherent answer that wouldn’t make him look like a blabbering fool in front of you, but the way the dappled sunlight that broke through the trees reflected in your hair distracted him more than he cared to admit.

So he resorted to a weak nod. “Uhm, sure, I’d love to. See you at six in the library?” he managed to stammer out eventually.

A beautiful smile formed on your face as you nodded in enthusiasm. “Sounds great, see you there!”

Charlie watched as you swished around and walked back to your friends, who greeted you with giggles and whispers as they glanced in his direction. You gave one of them a playful swat on the arm, before your clear laugh carried over to him onto the warm summer air and made his heart clench.

He knew all of his dragons by heart, of course he did; this test was the first he hadn’t bothered studying for at all. But now, he suddenly felt the overwhelming urge to prepare himself.

The light of the sun had already started to turn into the beautiful golden shade that heralded the end of a warm autumn day as you skittered into the library. You were a little bit late for your study session with Charlie, and the exertion from running all the way from your Common Room flushed your cheeks slightly red. Your friends just hadn’t let you go, all of them just as excited for what they called ‘your dragon date’ as you were. Not that you’d ever tell them that.

You found Charlie sitting at a table near the windows and your breath caught for a moment as you took in the warm light that washed around his frame; it was making his ginger hair glow like fire, the only vibrant speck of colour in this dusty old room full of books.

He had his nose buried in a big, leather-bound tome, his eyes darting over the pages frantically; you noticed how the tip of his tongue stuck out between his lips in concentration. He was so immersed in his reading, that he only noticed you approaching as you sat down next to him. Jumping in shock at your sudden appearance, he almost knocked over his ink bottle, only catching it at the last second before its dark, inky content could wash over the thin pages of his book.

“Oh, you’re here already, I didn’t even notice you until now.” His freckled face had flushed a shade darker than usual as he put his ink bottle back into its position and made room for you on the table.

“I’d rather say I’m here finally,” you responded, feeling a little bit guilty at making Charlie wait. “But I see that you started without me.”

He hurriedly closed the book. “No, I was just reading up on some facts about Welsh Greens so I have them sharp in my mind,” he explained, “in case you have questions, you know?”

It was only now that your eyes took in the numerous heaps of books piled up on your table. “First question,” you said as you ran your fingers over the backs of the tomes stacked on top of each other. “I thought the test was about dragons native to Europe and not every single one in existence,” you pulled out a particularly old looking book containing myths and fables, “and beyond.”

You silently counted the numbers of books Charlie had amassed and your eyes went wide. “Charlie, these must be all the books about dragons in the whole library,” you laughed, giggling at the flustered expression of the boy beside you.

“Well, not all the books,” he clarified sheepishly. “There are quite a few in the Restricted Section and then there’s the two I have up in my dorm but forgot to bring and- “

You cut off his rambling by gently touching his arm; he shut up almost instantly, glancing nervously down to where your hand was lying. “It’s alright, it was just a joke.”

“Of course,” Charlie muttered slightly embarrassed. What was wrong with him?

He watched as you pulled your notes from your bag; they were rather sparse compared to the almost three scrolls of parchment he had scribbled down himself.

“Where do you want to start?”

You hummed to yourself as you considered your choices. A warm, fuzzy feeling spread inside Charlie’s chest as you drew your lips into a pensive pout and tapped your index finger against it.

Finally, a neat stack of white flashcards, that lay hidden behind a book on Sea Serpents, caught your attention. You reached over Charlie and pulled them towards you.

Your mouth dropped open as you flicked through them; on every one of the laminated cards was an extensive profile of every kind of dragon imaginable. The descriptions were written out in a neat, accurate hand that looked nothing like the careless scrawl you’d seen on Charlie’s class notes.

But what took your breath away were the detailed drawings below the text. They were done by pencil and although they didn’t move like magical pictures often did, they were so lively as if they only waited to pounce off the paper and take into the air.

Charlie watched you apprehensively as your fingers traced the outline of what appeared to be a Swedish Short-snout. He felt his heart beat faster at the soft, admiring look in your eyes as you turned towards him.

“Did you do these yourself?”

He nodded in response. “It’s hard to find decent descriptions all in one place,” he explained quietly. “I don’t know how accurate the sketches are though; I’ve never seen a dragon in real life.”

You flashed him a radiant smile that had his heart rate pick up considerably. “I don’t care if they’re realistic; they’re brilliant!”

Encouraged by your excitement, he took the flashcards out of your hands and fanned them out, their blank backs facing you. “Then I’d suggest we start with them; pick one!”

Running the fingers along the cards twice, you finally settled on one and drew it out of his grasp. Charlie’s freckled face lit up as he saw which one you had chosen.

“The Ukrainian Ironbelly,” he exclaimed, “my favourite!”

All of his former shyness was suddenly forgotten; this was his prime discipline.

“The Ironbelly is native to the Ukraine, as its name suggests, obviously. It’s considered the largest dragon species in existence with an immense wingspan, long talons and scales that are said to be harder to pierce than steel. It’s name stems from the metallic grey colour of his underside and ever since one particular large specimen carried off a whole sailing ship in the late 18th century, they are under strict observation by wizarding authorities.”

You did your best to jot down the information Charlie dumped on you with impressive speed but there was no way you could keep up with his excited ramblings. So you resorted to listening to him as he lectured you about feeding habits, hunting methods and the average temperature of the flames an Ironbelly could produce.

He sighed wistfully as he paused for breath. “They’re amazing.”

You couldn’t hide your smile at his dreamy expression as you picked out your next card from the stack. “Okay, how about this one?”

The dragon it showed had ridges running along its back, ending in a nasty, arrow-shaped spike at the tip of its tail. It barred its teeth at you in a vicious snarl.

“That’s my favourite, the Hebridean Black,” he repeated his words from before, positively bouncing with energy this time around.

You glanced at the card you two had just worked your way through. “I thought the Ukrainian Ironbelly was your favourite?” you teased him.

Charlie’s bouncing stopped instantly as he blushed bright red; you hadn’t meant to bring him down and felt sorry all of a sudden. So you propped the card against one of the book piles and turned to him.

“So, tell me more about it.”

Relieved to be able to tread on secure ground again, Charlie immediately recounted all the facts about one of the two dragon breeds native to the British Isles to you.

You continued in this fashion; your pulled a random card from the stash and Charlie would tell you everything he knew about it. He grew more animated with every new flashcard; as it turned out, every dragon you talked about was his favourite.

Seeing him so caught up in his favourite subject had a warmth spread in your chest and the smile on your lips never vanished even once. You had given up on writing Charlie’s words down about four cards ago and were merely staring at him explaining to you everything about these fantastic beasts that made up all of his dreams and musings.

His excitement quickly spread to you and you found yourself hanging onto his every word. But the more you were listening to him, the more you found your concentration shift from the dragons you were discussing to the boy beside you.

Your head propped on your hand, you admired how recounting scale colours and preferred environments of Romanian Longhorns brought a twinkle to his blue eyes and how his contagious laugh had you chuckle at the idea that people would confuse a Hungarian Horntail with a Norwegian Ridgeback.

The dimples forming in his freckled cheeks as he smiled at you were the exact reason why you had needed help with studying for this test in the first place. When you had talked about dragons in class, the eager smile and the slight scrunch of his nose as he scribbled down every single word Professor Kettleburn had to spare had left you breathless and unable to concentrate on anything but the butterflies dancing in your stomach.

The pile of flash cards had dwindled down until only a few more were left. Your breath caught in your throat as you turned around your next pick; the pictured showed a slender dragon directly from the front. It’s wings were outstretched and it seemed to be staring directly at you out of wide, pupil-less eyes. It was the only drawing so far that was coloured.

Your finger traced the subtle colour gradient rippling over its pearly scales as Charlie looked over to see which one was next.

“The Antipodean Opaleye,” he murmured, taking in your fascinated expression, “it’s singularly coloured scales and eyes are the stuff of legends.”

“It’s beautiful,” you whispered, trying to imagine how the scales of a real life Opaleye might shimmer in the sunlight.

“Not as beautiful as you,” Charlie suddenly blurted out. The words had fallen from his lips before he’d even had a chance to stop them.

Both of you froze as what he had said sank into your consciousness. You couldn’t believe your ears and were half sure that your mind must have played a trick on you.

You carefully glanced over to Charlie out of the side of your eyes; he looked incredulous and you could watch the colour of his face turning from ghostly white to a deep, vivid scarlet that clashed with his ginger hair in a matter of seconds.

Feeling your own cheeks starting to blush at the unexpected compliment, you desperately were looking for something to say to take the shock out of his widened eyes. But your mind wasn’t working properly anymore, so all you managed was a meek “Wow, uhm, thank you Charlie, that’s really sweet.”

It was apparent your words didn’t help his flustered situation as he covered his face with his hands and groaned “I can’t believe I said that out loud; I’m such an idiot.”

You didn’t know what to do to help him; you felt utterly flattered and confused at the same time. You thought about putting your hand on his arm to reassure him what he had said actually made you happy, but paused halfway, not quite daring to touch him again.

Still unsure of what to do, you got up and picked up one of the books he had used to illustrate the facts on his flashcards.

“I’d better get going, I guess,” you stammered without looking at the wretched boy sitting at the table next to you, “thank you so much for helping me, I think I’ll manage the rest on my own. Can I borrow that book though?”

He didn’t raise his face from his hands, but nodded anyways. You felt bad for leaving him like that, but your head was spinning and you desperately needed to sort out your thoughts.

But seeing Charlie’s slumped frame sitting at the table, all the bubbly excitement from before completely drained from him, tugged at your heartstrings so hard it almost hurt. So instead of turning around and leaving, you drew a deep breath, gathered your courage and stepped behind him, placing a light kiss on his cheek.

You could feel his shoulders tense and his breath hitch as your hair tickled his jaw and were glad he couldn’t see the deep blush on your cheeks as you straightened up, picked up your bag and his book and hurried out of the library with a racing heart, too afraid to turn around once more.

Charlie and you hadn’t spoken again after what had happened in the library. It had taken him quite some time to be able to think properly again after you had left; he had just sat at his table, hand on his cheek where you had kissed him, staring into nothingness, the peachy smell of your hair still hanging in the air.

Even though the thought of how soft your lips had felt on your cheek had been the most prominent thing in his mind, he had passed his test with flying colours; some things just couldn’t be erased from his mind, no matter what was happening around him.

He had just returned to his dorm after a particularly tiring Quidditch practise when he saw it lying on his bed, propped up against his head bord; the book you had borrowed from him to finish studying on your own.

For a brief moment, he wondered how you had managed to get it up here, when he noticed something white sticking out of the pages. Curious, he picked up the book and flicked it open.

Even without looking, he knew what chapter it was you had marked with whatever you had put in there; he had read this book more times than he could remember. It was the chapter on the Antipodean Opaleye; he grimaced at the memory of when he had last thought about this particular dragon.

A white flashcard was stuck between the pages, its laminated surface flashing as Charlie turned it around to read it.

A big smile stole onto his face as he saw the photograph of you laughing and waving at him that you had stuck on the front side. His eyes swept over the lines written in your feminine hand and his smile grew even wider as he read the ‘special characteristics’ section:

It has to be remarked, that this particular specimen was able to pass her test with full marks.

He was glad to hear his blurted out compliment hadn’t affected your marks in the end. He sighed wistfully, when he noticed the very small, scribbled note at the very end of the card; it wasn’t as neatly written as the rest, almost as if your hands had shaken while writing it down.

Greatest weakness: While not many weaknesses are recorded of this specimen, it is said that it can be easily tamed by ginger-haired dragon trainers in the making. Whether these rumours are true, remains to be determined.

Charlie’s mouth dropped open as he read the last section over and over again, not daring to believe what he thought they said. But after the tenth time, he finally allowed the butterflies that had been fluttering in his stomach to spread into the rest of his body, his smile growing into the widest grin as he tucked the flashcard carefully into the book again.

This time, he was sure; this one was his favourite.

Tagging: @weasleysandwheezes

#harry potter #hphm #hogwarts mystery #charlie weasley #charlie weasley x reader #L writes #by request

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woodelf68 · 4 years ago

Text

Mornings

A loosely connected series of scenes throughout Loki’s life, from infancy through a future diverging from The Dark World. 9118 words.

(Note: Loki’s age in each scene is as follows, with the years being the Midgardian equivalents -- scene 1, less than a year old. Scene 2, 5 yrs. old. Scene 3, 10 -- picture kid Loki from the movie flashback. Scene 4, about 15. Scene 5, close to 20, canon Loki as seen in his cell in The Dark World. Scene 6, between 25 and 30, it’s reader’s choice as to how much time they wish to have passed between the last two scenes.)

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

The querulous cry of a newly awakened baby rang out in the quiet of the room. From her position with her head comfortably pillowed on her husband’s chest, Frigga held her breath, hoping. Perhaps he -- The cry came again, more demanding. She huffed a resigned laugh and started to push herself up. “At least he waited until we were done.” Odin slid out from under her. “Stay; I’ll fetch him.” Pulling on the robe draped over the end of the bed, he padded across to the cradle on the opposite side of the room and smiled down at his seven month old son, who immediately reached for him. “Hello there,” said Odin, ridiculously pleased, as always, when Loki quieted as soon as Odin picked him up, laying his head against Odin’s shoulder and putting his fingers into his mouth to suck on them. “You’re a good boy, aren’t you?” He pressed a fond kiss to Loki’s silky black curls, cradling the boy against his chest as he automatically checked his diaper. “Yes, you are. You don’t keep fussing once you’ve got someone’s attention. Now Thor -- well, let’s just say that your brother was always a bit more fond of the sound of his own voice.” While he was more than happy to leave this particular task to Frigga or the servants during the day, Odin was not so incompetent that he could not make quick work of changing Loki into a dry diaper, as he did so now. That taken care of, he picked Loki back up and returned to the bed. “What do you say? Are you hungry? Do you want your amma?” He sat down on the side of the bed and passed Loki into Frigga’s waiting arms. “Hello, my sweet son,” Frigga cooed, bringing Loki under the fur with her and guiding him to her breast. That first day, when a hungry baby had been placed in her arms, there’d been no time to look for a wet nurse, and when Loki had taken the goat’s milk she’d sent for without any problems, she had been reluctant to seek out one, selfishly not wanting to hand him over to another woman every couple of hours. If he was to be her son, she wanted him to look to her for his needs, for comfort and nourishment both, and she knew well enough that there were herbs to bring in a woman’s milk, and had soon found a spell to hasten their effects. They had told the court that she had hidden her pregnancy with magic, lest word of her vulnerable state reach Laufey’s ears and make her more of a target for foul play with Odin and most of Asgard’s warriors away fighting in the war. It had been easy enough to add, to those in her retinue close enough to express concern, that the magic had delayed her milk coming in. She could still remember the fierce rush of satisfaction a few weeks later when she had been able to nurse Loki herself for the first time, her heart whispering “mine ”, that feeling of him becoming really and truly hers. Not born of her body, but nourished by it, and he had thrived and grown apace ever since. If there had been the inevitable whispers that Odin had brought home a war bastard, most died away quickly enough as all saw how she doted on Loki, and Odin had, fortunately, come home for a brief visit around the time that Loki would have been conceived. Loki turned into her now and she felt her milk let down as he began suckling hungrily, his eyes fixed steadily on hers. She relaxed into the comfort of the pillows and furs, running a gentle finger down his snub nose and smiling as his eyes crossed as he tried to focus on it. Odin lay back down beside her and gently took hold of one of Loki’s feet, smiling as the tiny toes curled in response to his stroking thumb and Loki’s eyes cut briefly to him before refocusing on her. “Who’s that?” she asked softly. “Is that your pabbi?” She glanced at Odin and Loki followed her gaze, his small hand starfishing against her. “Yes, it is! And do you know how you can tell, hm? Because you called and he came. There are not many who can command the king of Asgard like that, you know.” Odin chuckled and slid back under the fur, coaxing Frigga’s head onto his shoulder so he could wrap one arm around wife and son both and use the other to run his hand through the long, heavy waves of her hair, shining golden in the gentle early morning light that illuminated the room. “Very true. And two of the three people who can are in this room.”

Frigga made a contented noise and relaxed even further, letting her eyes drift half shut in pleasure. The duties of the day would claim the king soon enough, but in that moment, he was simply her husband, and a father, and she cherished every second of such times.

--------------- “We’re about to be invaded,” Odin murmured, hearing the patter of four small feet and the whisper of hushed voices outside their door. It was his favourite time of the day, that early morning hour when he lay relaxed and comfortable with Frigga and they talked about their plans for the upcoming day.

“One of the perils of having children.” she said, smiling.

“But perhaps also one of the pleasures?” he suggested, smiling back. “Admit it, you will be sad when they have grown too much to come tumbling in like overexcited puppies at the break of day on occasion.”

Frigga laughed. “You are quite right. I shall no doubt be proud of the fine young men they grow into, but I shall miss my little boys.”

"Should I knock? Maybe they’re still sleeping.”

"Knock softly!”

A subdued knock sounded on their door, and Frigga called “Come in!”

Thor and Loki burst into the room, still in their sleep clothes. “Happy Name Day!” they chorused. Thor held up the jar he was carrying. “We got you some flowers.”

“And we drew you some pictures,” Loki added, coming over to the bed with some papers clutched in his hand.

“Oh, thank you, the flowers are lovely! Place them right there on that table, Thor, and come show me your drawings.” She took the papers from Loki and patted the mattress beside her. Promptly Loki climbed onto the bed to snuggle into her side, a small, soft warm presence, while Thor scrambled up next to him and crawled over her body to plop himself down on her other side. Odin sat up and leaned over Thor to see the drawings as well. The top one was done in coloured chalk, perfect for capturing the texture of fur, and Frigga smiled as she recognised the black and orange patches on the rounded white shapes in the center, one large and three small.

“It’s Runa and her kittens!” She’d taken both boys to visit the barn cat and her litter a few days ago, instructing them to sit still and quietly and let the kittens approach them if they wanted to. Thor, ever boisterous, had kept fidgeting and whispering, but Loki had sat perfectly still, enraptured by the three small shapes, and had been rewarded when one of the exploring kittens had wobbled over on unsteady legs and had determinedly pulled itself up onto Loki’s lap, where he’d gently stroked it until it had started purring remarkably loudly for a creature of its size.

“Yes!” He beamed proudly. “Do you like it?’“I do indeed, and I love the flowers you drew around the border; they’re very bright and cheerful.” She moved his picture underneath the other one and saw what Thor had drawn. “Oh, Thor, this is really very good.” She admired the dragon rendered in Thor’s careful pencil work. “I should have you design a tapestry for me.”

“Really?” Thor sounded delighted by the idea.

“Why not? Where is this dragon flying to, for instance?”

“His cave, in a mountain,” said Thor. “And it’s filled with his treasure horde.”

“I hope he’s a peaceful dragon,” said Frigga. “I’d hate for anyone to want to hurt him.”

Thor’s face fell at that, as if he’d already been dreaming about slaying the dragon and winning some glory for himself. “I suppose he could be, if you wanted.”

“I do,” said Frigga firmly. “And perhaps he could have a younger dragon brother to fly by his side?”

“Me and Loki!” Thor enthused. “We could be the dragons! And we live in the cave together and go out and have adventures.”

“That would make a very nice tapestry,” agreed Frigga. “You boys could have it for your room.”

“I’ll start sketching it later today,” Thor promised.

“What about us?” Odin asked. “Can your mother and I live in your cave while you boys go out flying around on adventures?”

“Yes! I’ll draw you two lying at the entrance with just your snouts sticking out. You can be a gold dragon, Father, and you a blue one, Mother. What about you, Loki?”

“Green,” said Loki promptly.

“Well, I shall look forward to this epic picture,” said Odin, ruffling Thor’s hair. “It’s a very good likeness of a dragon, Thor. And I like yours as well, Loki.”

“How big should I make the drawing, Mother?”

“We’ll figure that out after breakfast. Speaking of which, why don’t you two go get dressed and ready for the day and we’ll do the same, and we’ll come collect you for breakfast when we’re ready.” She leaned first to the left and then the right, kissing the tops of her sons’ heads. “Thank you for the presents; they’re beautiful.”

“You’re welcome.” Loki knelt up on the bed and wrapped his arms around her, squeezing tightly. “Happy name day, Amma.”

Frigga hugged him back, smoothing a hand over his tousled curls. “Thank you, my darling.” She released him and he slid off the bed, giving Thor room to climb over her and follow suit. He leaned over to give her his own hug once he was on his feet.

“Happy name day,” he echoed. “I’ll help Loki get ready.”

“Thank you, my sweet.” She gave him a squeeze and let him go, watching as he took Loki by the hand and led his little brother from the room. She turned to Odin, beaming. “I think we have the best boys in the entire Nine Realms.”

The skin around Odin’s eye crinkled up. “I’ll remind you of that the next time Thor lets his temper get the better of him or Loki’s curiosity leads him into trouble.”

“I didn’t say they were perfect ,” Frigga said. “Perfect would be boring. And we both know who Thor got his temper from.” She looked at him pointedly.

“I feel like I should be offended but I know you’re right,” Odin admitted. “But if he can learn to channel it, it’ll prove a great asset in battle one day. And at least he got your sweetness of heart to counter it.” Odin leaned over and kissed her.

“Flatterer,” she said fondly. “And what of Loki? What does he have of us?”

“He has your sweetness as well, and your cleverness, and your sensitivity to magic.” Odin looked thoughtful. “I’m not sure what he has of me. My eyes, perhaps,” he joked. “Or my eye; he only ever saw the one.”

“He has your watchfulness,” said Frigga, after a moment of thinking. “He knows how to sit and listen quietly, and remember what he hears. And how to choose his words with care.”

“If he picked that up from me, then I am well pleased,” approved Odin. “Let us hope that he grows up with a taste for politics; those traits will serve him well.” He rolled out of bed. “Come, we had best bestir ourselves before our hungry young dragonlings decide to go foraging for themselves and leave nothing but crumbs and wreckage in their wake.”

Frigga laughed -- but she could picture the scenario all too well. She bestirred herself. ---------------

Loki woke with his heart pounding. Just a nightmare, he told himself, but telling himself that and truly believing it were two different things entirely. It would have been easier if he had been able to simply look to his side and see Thor asleep in his bed, but they had recently been given separate rooms, and he wasn’t sure, at the moment, that he liked it. He sat up, throwing back the covers and swinging his feet down onto the floor. He slipped from his bedroom and made his way across the common room that connected his and Thor’s chambers, the sky outside the windows lit with the brilliance of the stars, and quietly looked into Thor’s bedroom. Thor lay sprawled out on his bed, motionless, but Loki could hear his soft breathing from where he stood and was reassured. He retreated and made his way out into the hallway, and crossed over to his parents’ rooms, feeling the light tingle of the wards that, he knew would permit no one other than himself or his brother to enter once his parents had retired for the night. He passed light-footed through his mother’s weaving room and paused, hovering in the doorway of their bedroom, looking and listening. His parents lay back to back, his mother nearest to him, and after a minute he was sure of the slow rise and fall of the blanket covering her. He moved further into the room, just needing to be sure that his father was all right, too, before he could go back to bed.

“Loki?”His mother’s voice was quiet, sleepy, but Loki nearly jumped out of his skin and couldn’t help letting out a squeak of alarm.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to startle you. Are you all right?”

“Nightmare,” whispered Loki back. “I’m sorry; I didn’t mean to wake you. I just wanted to make sure you were all right.”

“Want to come in?” Frigga held up the blankets invitingly, scooting back away from the edge of the bed to give Loki more room. She bumped back against Odin’s solid form and he grunted and woke.

“Hmphm?” he murmured, still half asleep.

“Scoot back.”

Odin obliged, but lifted his head, confused, when Frigga followed after him and spied a black head silhouetted against the dim light of the room. “Loki?”

“I’m sorry, I just had a nightmare and needed to make sure you were all right before I tried to go to sleep again,” Loki apologised again. “I’ll go now.”

“Are you sure?” Odin moved back further on the wide bed, putting space between him and Frigga, and wished all parenting decisions were as easy as knowing what to do when your child came to you upset in the middle of the night. “You could come in between us, safest place in the Nine Realms."

Frigga smiled and moved back towards the edge of the bed, creating a perfect Loki-sized space in between them and lifted the covers higher. “Come on, sweetheart.”

Loki hesitated a second, then his feet carried him forward and he scrambled over his mother’s body. Up close, his father looked strange with his eyepatch left off for the night, but he had seen the scarred socket before, and he only glanced at it for a moment before nestling down between his parents and feeling his father’s arm drape comfortingly over him.

“That’s it,” Odin pressed a kiss to Loki’s hair. “I’ve got you; you’re safe.”

Frigga turned over and curled around Loki from the other side, letting the covers fall back down over them and reaching out to rub his shoulder. “Do you want to tell us about your dream?”

“I wasn’t in any danger ,” said Loki. “I was just...alone, here in the palace. It was completely empty; I couldn’t find anyone. But then finally, I found you. Except you were lying like you were laid out for a funeral boat, and I knew you were dead.” He took a deep breath, filling his nostrils with the scent of her, and felt the lingering dread from the nightmare dissipate. “And then I woke up.”

“Oh, sweetheart.” Frigga stroked his hair soothingly. “I’m sorry, what a terrible dream. But I promise you that I am very much here and alive and have no plans to go anywhere anytime soon.”

Odin’s heart ached for his son. It was a common theme that ran through Loki’s nightmares, that of being alone and abandoned. Sometimes he was someplace cold, and crying for help that didn’t come, and Odin knew the source of that one. Sometimes Loki was surrounded by fire, and Asgard was burning around him, and that one worried him. This one...well, he knew how close Loki was to his mother; his mind probably couldn’t think of a worse scenario. “No more do I,” said Odin, hugging Loki just a little bit tighter. He thought of saying something serious, about how he still had a good many years left in him yet despite his age, but decided instead on levity. “You won’t get rid of us that easily.” He tickled Loki’s stomach.

Loki giggled and grabbed at his father’s hand. “Good,” he said firmly. His father turned his hand, slotted his larger fingers through Loki’s own, and left his hand there, covering Loki’s reassuringly. Loki relaxed, feeling warm and safe and most definitely not alone. “You don’t think I’m a baby for not wanting to be alone after a nightmare?” he asked hesitantly, just to make sure.

“Of course not, sweetheart,” Frigga reassured him. “I expect you’re still getting used to waking up alone in a room of your own, aren’t you?” She had often enough, through the years, looked in on the boys at night to find them snuggled up together in one bed to suspect that they had found comfort in each other after bad dreams. Certainly Loki hadn’t sought their bed in a while.

“Yes, exactly,” said Loki, grateful that she understood. “I used to be able to wake up and see Thor sleeping in his bed and know that it had just been a dream and that everything was all right.”

“Your mother and I are lucky,” Odin pointed out. “If we have a bad dream, we have someone right here next to us to say that everything is all right and that it was only a dream.”

“I never thought of that,” said Loki thoughtfully. “Do you have bad dreams, Father?”

“I do, sometimes.”

“What about?”

“The usual, I think. Losing someone that I love, being lost. Finding myself in front of a crowd of people and realising that I don’t have any clothes on.”

Loki’s eyes widened and he lifted his head, twisting around to look back at his father. “You have that one, too?”

Frigga laughed. “I think we all have, at one time or another. I used to have that one when I was younger, but no more. I seem to have grown out of it, thank the Norns.” Odin had handled that question well, she thought. Loki didn’t need to be burdened with the details of his father’s nightmares. She heard the first birds begin to call outside, but since the birds had gone to bed hours before she had, she felt justified in ignoring them. “Go back to sleep, little one,” she told Loki softly. “Morning will be here soon enough.”

Loki closed his eyes obediently, and she began to sing softly, the words of the lullaby unforgotten through the years. Frigga watched him, his lashes lying dark against his cheeks, his breathing growing slow, and even, until she was sure he was asleep, and quietly finished the last verse. She glanced at Odin then, to see him watching her, the expression in his eye soft. “I half wish Thor were here as well,” she confessed in a whisper. “Perhaps he’ll come hunting down his brother in the morning. Then I could have all my boys snuggled in safe around me.”

Odin looked amused. “Are you implying that I am one of your boys as well?”

“You are.” Frigga’s tone of voice dared him to say otherwise. “Mine to love, mine to care for.”

“Good,” he said with satisfaction, sounding remarkably like Loki had but a short while earlier, and closed his eye, a contented smile on his face.

Frigga watched her husband and son with a heart full of love. She should suggest that Odin spend some time with the boys tomorrow; both Loki and Thor were always hungry for more of their father's time and attention. And they were old enough now to learn more of the behind the scenes work of ruling the realm; perhaps if she framed it as an educational opportunity, Odin would agree it was worth carving out the time from his schedule. She found Odin's and Loki's joined hands under the covers, and laid her own atop them. falling asleep to dream of the day when her sons would stand side by side and lead Asgard into a bright and prosperous future.

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

“Loki! Why are you still abed? Did you forget that we were going to go hunting this morning?” Thor came bursting into Loki’s bedroom with all of his usual exuberance, undeterred by the fact that his brother was still, obviously, asleep, or had been up until a moment ago.

Loki groaned and buried his head under his pillow. “Changed my mind. Tomorrow’s better. Go away. I’m sleeping.”

Thor spied a familiar-looking book on Loki’s nightstand, the same one he’d been reading last night at supper. “Were you up all night reading?”

“What if I was? Some of us wish to improve our minds.” Thor was quiet for a moment, and Loki had the vain hope that Thor would go away and leave him in peace. Then he felt his covers yanked back, and squawked in protest.

“And some of us wish to go hunting with our brother,” said Thor cheerfully. “Come on, the fresh air will wake you up.” He took hold of Loki’s legs.

“Thor, don’t you dare, I’m warning you --”

Thor pulled.

There was a flash of green. It was followed by a startled croak.

Loki peered over the edge of his bed at the large green frog sitting on his floor. It looked back at him mournfully. “I warned you. Now hop along and stay out of trouble and I’ll change you back this afternoon. If you want to go hunting then, fine, if not, I promise to go to bed earlier tonight and we’ll go tomorrow morning.”

The frog tried to walk, one webbed foot at a time, towards Loki’s bedroom door, before figuring out how to manage his long legs and gave a short hop, then a longer one, and presently disappeared from sight. He was going to be in so much trouble when he changed Thor back, Loki thought, but some things were worth it. He wondered if Thor would brave going to their mother, or if he would have the sense to simply wait the morning out in his rooms. The first option would restore him to his own form faster, if he made it into Frigga’s presence and could convince her of his identity, but it also risked him being seen by a member of the staff and deposited outside in a pond. Grinning at that mental image, he pulled his blankets back up and let his head sink back into his pillow. He reclosed his door with a wave of his hand and sank happily back into slumber.

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

Loki lay in bed and watched the dim lighting of the cell brighten. Morning, he assumed, though really he had no way of knowing, would never see the sky again. How early was it? he wondered. Was the sky still pink and gold from the sunrise, or had it already turned to blue? The constant white glare of the cell bothered him more each day, made him long for the shaded green places in his mother’s gardens (he could not think of her as anything else in his heart), or the dim recesses of the library, lit by the warm glow of lamps, or the muted light filtering in through the curtains in his rooms. At first it had been enough to have a place where he knew he was safe, where he could simply let down all his defenses and rest without fear or pain. He had slept for long stretches of time, those first weeks, while his body healed, waking only to eat ravenously of the food that was delivered to him. He heard the rattle of a meal tray being delivered now, the curt “Breakfast” spoken by the guard before they disappeared again. He rose and went to collect the tray.

It had not escaped his notice that his meals weren’t standard prison fare, that there was usually at least one thing on his tray that was something that he particularly liked. There was always fresh fruit and juice for breakfast, and today, a veritable feast of a mushroom and cheese omelette and hot buttered toast and the spicy sausages his mother knew he liked, because of course it was her doing, he knew that much. There was even, astonishingly, a bottle of elven wine. the explanation for which was in the new book that had accompanied his breakfast tray. He opened it and read the inscription on the flyleaf:

My dearest son,

It seems cruel to wish you a happy name day, but I hope these small tokens of my affection will give you some pleasure on this day nevertheless. I tell myself it is better than last year, when I still thought you dead, and if you are kept apart from me, at least I know that you are alive and well. And I let myself hope that next year will be better yet, that something will have changed, for I refuse to believe otherwise. I will find a way to force it to change myself, if I have to. If you would only tell us what happened to you, give your father a reason to trust you again -- But this is not the time or the place to chide you for that, only know that when you are ready to talk I will be here to listen. And know that I will never stop loving you, nor celebrating the day you arrived in our lives, for you are one of the greatest gifts I have ever been given. As always, I remain

-- your loving Mother

He cried bitter tears then, tears of longing to feel her arms around him again, and tears of regret for his lost life. He wanted, desperately, to see the sky, to breathe fresh air, to walk without coming up against a wall after more than a few paces. Would it change anything if he told? He tried to remember why he hadn’t, that first day when he’d been brought back and paraded before Odin in chains. Spite? Anger? Shame? To show his parents how it felt to have a secret kept from them? Yes, all of those, he knew, but were they worth it? Did he want Thanos to come upon an Asgard unwarned, and unready? He thought of the palace littered with bodies, of the palace empty of life save for the slaughtered bodies of those who had had the chance to fight, and remembered, with a sudden chill, the nightmare that he had had more than once as a youth. He thought of his mother dead, and not knowing until one day a meal tray arrived with plain prison fare, no special treats. No more books. Of never seeing anyone again except the guard who delivered the meals, of never being able to have an actual conversation with anyone again. Alone, forgotten. Except no, Thanos would not forget him. Panic rose up and engulfed him, and he reached for the wine, uncorking it and taking a healthy swig.

The wine helped a little, but he couldn’t truly relax until his mother’s projection appeared in the afternoon and the relief that swept through him almost made him giddy. He thanked her for the gifts, and was ashamed at how the basic courtesy made her face light up like the sun.

“I only wish that I could do more.” Her hand rose, as if she would cradle his face. Loki fought the urge to turn into the touch, lest the contact shatter her illusion, and allowed himself to imagine he could feel the warmth of her hand upon his skin. “Tell me what it’s like outside today,” he said impulsively. “Is the sky blue?”

“It is, clear and blue with a few puffy white clouds floating around. It is just past midday, and the garden is full of the scent of the roses in bloom.”

She seemed to know what he craved, and painted a picture of the gardens with her words that invoked all his senses. And when he didn’t stop her, she continued on with all the everyday details of life in the palace lately, what she was doing to fill her time and then what was going on in the greater Realm, slowly expanding his world. She took it as a good sign, that he was finally expressing an interest in the outside world.

Loki knew her time for him was up when she glanced behind her, as someone obviously came into the room where her body stood.

“I must go now, but I’ll be back tomorrow,” she promised. “Imagine me giving you a kiss and a hug, and I swear that I shall one day do so in fact.”

“Mother,” Loki said quickly, before she could vanish, the careful “Allmother” that he sometimes used never having become easy or comfortable on his tongue. “Thank you for coming. And what you asked of me -- in the book -- I will consider it.”

Her face lit up again. “I am glad to hear that. And I will never, ever stop coming to see you, not until the day that you are able to come and see me .” She held out her hands to him, letting him be the one to dispel her illusion in the little ritual they had developed, and reluctantly, he brought his hands down on hers, an almost physical pang running through him when there was no solidity of contact and she vanished in a shimmer of gold.

“Husband,” Frigga said cooly, turning to face her visitor. “What brings you here at this time of day?”

“Do I need an excuse to come see my beautiful wife?’ Odin asked, a challenging glint in his eye.

“Well, if you have no matters to bring to my attention…” She trailed off, then squared her shoulders and lifted her chin as she faced him. “I wish to see Loki.”

“Do you not already see him?” he countered.

Frigga froze, had he seen or was he only guessing? His face was that inscrutable mask which served him so well as king but which she hated to see on her husband.

Odin sighed. “I know you send your projections to him, you need not worry about that.”

Frigga relaxed. “Ah. I had wondered, but it seemed better not to bring it up if you were willing to overlook it,” she confessed.

“After that first time, when you didn’t press me further to allow you to visit him, I surmised that you had found your own way of seeing him. I know your abilities, and I know you would not let anything keep you from either one of your children if you thought they had need of you.”

“I would not,” she agreed, steel in her voice.

Odin dropped his head, half turning away from her. “I had no right to forbid you from seeing him in the first place. It was wrong, and it was cruel, and I am sorry for it. I wish that I had a better excuse, but in the moment, I was simply angry that he, too, had chosen to attack what he had sworn to defend. Jotunheim I could understand, to some extent, but Midgard?” He closed his eye briefly, feeling the weight of his years, and admitted the ugly truth about himself. “And I spoke what I knew would hurt him most.”

“Yet not sorry enough to take it back once you had spoken.”

“It would have been seen as a sign of weakness.”

“It would have been seen as a sign of compassion!” Frigga snapped, then shook her head. Anger would not get her what she wanted, she knew that much. “So alike, the two of you are, always knowing the words that will wound deepest."

Odin fiddled with a paperweight sitting on a table, a simple, smooth stone with a design on it that had once been painstakingly painted by a young boy. “I remember asking once, what of me you saw in Loki. I had hoped for a better legacy than ‘cruel’ and ‘obstinate’.”

“It is not too late to fix things, Odin,” she urged. “A wise king knows when to admit he is wrong, and to correct his mistakes instead of letting them continue unchecked because he is not man enough to face up to them. When has Loki ever responded well to harshness? Perhaps he would not have stayed so recalcitrant in his refusal to speak of what befell him if you had showed some sign of kindness when he was returned to us. Who knows how long he spent in the Void, unable to think of anything but the fact that he no longer felt that he had a family? That his entire life was a lie? Small wonder he emerged mad, if that is all that happened, but I do not think it is. He did not just stumble onto an army of Chitauri and decide to invade Midgard because he wanted a throne. You did not see his face when I had Gungnir handed to him; he did not expect it, he did not want it. He did not desire rule, only respect, to be seen as Thor’s equal, to make you proud. Would it have killed you to have welcomed him back as his father before you pronounced judgement as his king?” Frigga could not help her voice rising again in condemnation.

“Invading another realm was not the way to gain that respect, nor trying to completely obliterate one!” Odin protested, turning back to her in anger, then his defiance dropped away. He did not want to turn this conversation into a fight anymore than Frigga did. “Never mind Jotunheim, not now. As I said, I understand something of what drove him to attack it, and though I do not condone such an extreme action, it was within his rights as ruling king at the time to retaliate for Laufey’s attack on Asgard. But it is what followed after that complicated matters. I could not simply banish him to another realm to learn a lesson as I did with Thor because I do not know what lesson he needs to learn, and I do not know if that realm would be safe, and most of all, I do not know whether Loki himself would be safe, or whether he might attempt to end his own life again.” Odin looked at her bleakly, the memory of Loki’s face as his son let go of Gungnir and let himself fall into the Void one that still haunted his nightmares. “What else could I have done, other than what I did? And what would you have me do now?”

“It was not what you did but how you did it,” Frigga allowed, for Loki had been a threat that needed containing at the time, even she had to acknowledge that. “But as for now -- be his father! If you want to get him to trust you again, you have to show him that you deserve it. And you can start by letting me visit him, in person.”

“Why now?” he asked, stalling a bit but also curious. “Why have you waited this long to ask again?”

Frigga pursed her lips. “To be honest, until today, I have not been sure if he would welcome my actual presence,” she admitted.

“And today?”

“It was a good day; he was quieter, more settled.”

The corner of Odin’s mouth turned up. “Perhaps we should have sent wine long before this.”

“Do you know everything?” she demanded in exasperation.

“I wish I did. I would give much to know what happened to Loki in the year that he was gone. But do you not think I look in on my son every now and then? I know what today is as well as you do.”

“I don’t think it was just the wine. It had been opened when I arrived, yes, but not enough was gone to influence him in any way. I think he is just...coming back to himself.”

Odin thought of the way Loki had sat quietly and listened to his mother today, as he had watched from Hlidskjalf for a while before withdrawing his Sight and giving them their privacy, no longer the ranting, rage-filled man who had come back to them. It had been a slow change, but a steady one, and he thought longingly of the possibility of one day having his son back. Loki was not Hela, he reminded himself, despite their remarkable physical similarity. The Norns must have been laughing at him when they had sent him Loki’s way. A second chance, to raise a raven-haired child right. And he thought he had done so. Loki had not been molded for war, had not grown up without the softness of love. A succession of memories flashed through Odin’s mind. A baby, smiling and quieting as soon as he was picked up. A small body nestled against his. A boy trustingly slipping his hand into Odin’s. A young man walking with his mother’s hand tucked securely through his arm, love and pride in every line of his bearing. A son grown tall and strong, a son any man would be proud of. Had he told that to Loki often enough, or had he simply assumed that he knew, that that was what Odin had been saying whenever he laid an approving hand on Loki’s back or shoulder, whenever he trusted him with some matter of state, some diplomatic mission? Somewhere along the way they had lost that closeness which Loki and Frigga still had, and Odin had never regretted it more than when Loki had learned of a heritage which did not matter in the slightest to him, but had driven Loki to such despair that he had no longer seen a reason to go on living.

“Odin?” Frigga’s voice broke him out of his thoughts.

Odin cast back to the last thing she had said, and remembered, Loki coming back to himself. “I pray that it is so.” He paced across her room, thinking. He was going to agree to Frigga’s request, he knew, but he wondered if he could get something more out of it. Loki’s refusal to talk of what had happened to him during the year he was beyond all their sight irritated him in more ways than the simple defiance of it. Nothing about Midgard made sense; was that simply because Loki had not been thinking rationally at the time or was there a huge puzzle piece there that they were missing? His instincts said the latter, and he wished not for the first time that Thor had managed to bring home the weapon Loki had wielded along with his brother, wondered if there might not be a clue there. If the Bifrost had not been shattered, he would have gone and demanded it of the mortals himself, and not taken no for an answer. Or was he simply looking for a reason which would justify Loki’s actions, that he might give him a chance to redeem himself, as he had given Thor? He nearly growled in frustration as he came up once again against his complete lack of knowledge.

“How much do you think he wishes for your company?” he asked. “Enough to finally tell us what happened to him in exchange for it?”

“I don’t know,” Frigga admitted. “But he did say he would consider talking about it when I mentioned it again today.”

Odin brightened at that. "Considering" was not "agreeing to", but it was the first time that Loki had even given them that much. “Then perhaps we should wait until he comes to that decision. If we give him something that he wants before he does so, it might remove the impetus to give us what we want."

“Odin,” Frigga pleaded, allowing all of her yearning to come through in her voice. “I have not been able to hold my son in over two years. Have not been able to offer even the comfort of a single touch.”

Odin hesitated, then gave in. “A week. We will give him a week, and if he does not say anything more about it, then I will go to him with my offer.” It was hardly any time at all, when Loki had held out this long, but he was tired of being at odds with his wife, and hoped this would help mend the rift between them.

“And if he refuses it?”

Odin looked at her face, saw the fear that she would be further denied the chance to visit her son, and felt shame that he was the cause of it. If Loki scorned him as weak for this, then so be it. He would make this one thing right. “Then you may visit him anyway.”

Frigga’s face lit with joy, and the next thing he knew she had her arms around him. He tried to get his arms up to embrace her back, for he had not been favoured with such attention for a long time, but she was already stepping back, her hands lingering on his shoulders for a moment while she beamed at him.

“Thank you,” she said with heartfelt fervour.

“Am I forgiven?” he asked hopefully.

“Ask me again when I have held my son in my arms,” she said, but she was still smiling, and Odin’s heart felt lighter than it had for a long time.

As it turned out, they didn’t even have to wait a week. ---

----------

As if thinking of the old dream conjured it back into existence, Loki was haunted by it again that night. Running through the empty palace, looking for someone, anyone, only to find, at last, Frigga, laid out and lifeless and waking to his heart pounding in panicked dread. And for the first time in his life, he could do nothing to reassure himself of her safety other than wait for her visit. When she arrived, he took a deep breath of relief. Only a nightmare, he told himself. But it was harder to dismiss when he woke from the same dream the next morning, except this time he had heard Thanos’s laughter when he had come upon his mother’s dead body, and impossible the third. He was too agitated to eat breakfast and paced restlessly until Frigga finally showed up.

“Tell the Allfather,” he said, having made up his mind that he had to do something, that if the Norns were sending him a message he could not risk ignoring it. If he could not be free to guard his mother’s life, then he must give up what knowledge he had that would allow her to be best prepared to defend herself if and when Thanos broke into the Nine.“That I will answer any questions he may have in return for you being allowed to visit me in person.”

Joy swept through Frigga. “He will be hearing petitioners now,” she said. “Shall I interrupt him or wait till he breaks for the midday meal?”

“Better wait." He didn't want his mother to leave when she had just arrived, and it would give him time to prepare what he was going to say, how much he needed to reveal. "But do it today."

“I will,” she promised.

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

A couple of hours later, Loki came to his feet as he heard approaching footsteps and stood facing the front of his cell, his hands clasped behind his back. He tensed as he saw Odin, but his heart leapt when he saw his mother following behind him.

“Loki,” Odin greeted. “I understand you wish to strike a deal.”

“I do. I will answer any questions that you have in exchange for mother being allowed to visit me whenever she wishes. Inside my cell,” he stressed. When Odin didn’t respond immediately, he swallowed his pride and added “I swear I will not hurt her, nor attempt to use her in any way to escape this place.”

“I never thought that you would hurt her,” Odin admitted after a moment, and glanced at Frigga, then gestured towards the cell. “Very well. Go ahead.”

Two long strides forward and Frigga was deactivating the energy barrier that formed the front of the cell, one more and she was pulling Loki into her arms. “Loki,” she breathed out fervently. “My son.”

It had happened so fast, Loki hadn’t been prepared for it, and flinched back for a second, from the shock of being touched after so long without it, and because for so long before that, touch had always meant pain instead of comfort. He didn’t know what to do for a moment, but then her scent hit him, the smell of herbs and flowers and fresh air, that whispered ‘home’ and ‘safe’ and ‘loved’, and his arms came up instinctively as he wrapped her up tight in his embrace and buried his face against her neck. “Mother,” he said desperately, and then quieter, for her ears alone, “Amma .”

“I’ve got you,” Frigga whispered, burying her hand for the first time in the new length of his hair. “You’re safe.”

Odin heard them both, and relief and remorse swept through him in equal measures. Their son was still in there, still reachable, but looking at Loki’s face was almost painful. Whatever happened today, he vowed he would not keep them apart again. Belatedly he realised he had not reactivated the energy barrier and stepped forward to do so.

Loki heard the faint hum crackle back into life and glanced up, a faint smirk on his face. "A bit slow there, weren't you? I could have teleported right out of here in a second."

Frigga tightened her grip on him. "If you had tried, you would have had to take me with you."

"What an excellent idea, Mother," Loki said brightly. "Where would you like to go?"

She gave him an admonishing shake. "Don't tempt me, you."

"And yet you didn't," said Odin. "Perhaps I am simply choosing to trust my son to keep his word, that he will not try to use his mother's presence in an attempt to escape. Am I wrong to do so?"

Loki shook his head, and raised his chin a notch. "You are not."

For the moment, the mask was gone from his son’s face, Loki’s eyes wide and vulnerable in a too gaunt face, and Odin was reminded of just how young Loki still was. "Good,” he said approvingly. “In return, I ask you to trust me, Loki. Tell me what happened to you. Let me help you, if I can."

“I will save you time and tell you the only thing that you need to know. Thanos the mad Titan seeks the Infinity Stones, and a way into the Nine. Asgard must prepare her defenses and stop him from finding them all.”

Odin's mind instantly flashed back to the conversation that he’d had with Thor on his return to Asgard, when he had grilled him about everything that he could remember Loki doing or saying on Midgard, seeking some clue to his youngest son’s behaviour.

He had a sceptre, with a blue stone, with the ability to control the minds of others.

He was not like himself at all. He looked unwell, and afraid at times, and the manner in which he attacked was so unlike his usual style that I thought he must be in league with someone else.

I thought I was reaching him, when I asked him to stop and come home. For a moment I could see the brother that I knew in his eyes, but then he said that it was too late to go back, and he shook it off and went back to the attack.

A picture was coming together in Odin’s mind, and it was not one that he liked. Loki, his mind already broken, falling into the hands of a being of incomparable power, one who wished to escape his exile outside of the Nine. Thanos discovering that Loki had the ability to walk the shadow paths between worlds. Had the scepter truly borne a blue stone, or had it been a yellow stone concealed in a blue housing? Were the mortals the only ones it had been used upon? The Tesseract. Mind stone and space stone. One risked to gain a second, a ploy that had failed. If Thanos could break into the Nine, it would not only be the Stones he came after, Odin guessed, it would be Loki, for failing to deliver what he had been sent for. For he had no doubt now that Loki had been sent. A year gone, beyond Heimdall’s view. How much of that time had been spent in the Void, how much being broken until his proud, powerful son had been turned into a tool to be used? Had Midgard been offered as a reward for service, or had Loki wanted it as a sanctuary, a bulwark against the Mad Titan when he felt he no longer had a right to claim Asgard as his home?

Oh, Loki, Odin thought, his heart clenching for his son. What did he do to you? He reached out and deactivated the force field at the front of the cell again, and walked in to join his wife and son, meeting Loki’s startled gaze steadily. He had failed his son once, he was not going to fail him again.

“On the contrary, I think I’m going to need to know a great deal more than that.”

Loki, still standing within the circle of his mother's arms, stared. Odin had set the barrier to re-form behind him, effectively trapping him inside the cell with Loki. He would need to call the guard now to let him out. "Was that wise? Locking yourself in with a dangerous criminal? I only promised not to hurt Mother, you know."

"if I have been so poor of a father that I need fear attack from my own son, then perhaps I deserve it." There had been no threat in Loki's voice, though, merely a pointing out of facts, and Odin grinned mischievously. "You can try, though."

Unexpectedly, Loki felt the corner of his mouth quirk up, feeling oddly reassured instead of offended that his own strength and skills were being dismissed. He wanted his father to still be strong, he realised, wanted to feel that childhood certainty that Odin could fix anything, that he could handle any problem brought to him and make everything all right again. He knew that wasn't the case anymore, but still, if Asgard were to stand any chance at all against Thanos, she would need the strength of all her warriors, led by a strong king. And that king needed to be armed with knowledge as well as weapons, knowledge that Loki was tired of bearing alone. If nothing else, Odin could share that burden.

"I would not wish to upset Mother," he said diplomatically, and heard Frigga huff beside his ear.

"No more would I, yet I fear I have done so for far too long. But I am trying to make amends. To you and to her," Odin stressed. "Talk to me, Loki, please. Let me be the father I should have been when you first returned."

For a change, Loki did not feel the need to deny that Odin was his father, knew he could not do so with any conviction at the moment. If not Odin, then who? Certainly not Laufey, who had left him to die. At least Odin had been there, and was here now, apparently still willing to call Loki his son. Perhaps one imperfect father willing to admit his mistakes was better than none. The anger that he had nurtured for over a year fizzled out, and he swallowed hard. "What more do you wish to know?"

"Everything."

His mother's hand gripping his tightly, grounding him, Loki took a deep breath and began to talk.

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

“Amma.”

Sif woke to a small hand tugging on the sleeve of her nightshirt. A pair of clear blue eyes beneath a head of tousled black curls peered at her from just over the top of the mattress.

“What is it, Ullr?”

“I had a bad dream.”

Sif yawned sleepily. “Do you want to spend the rest of the night with us?”

Ullr nodded. “Yes, please.”

He held up his arms to her, and Sif saw that he had his much-loved stuffed bear with him, a present from his Aunt Jane. She sat up and reached down, lifting Ullr up onto the bed and scooted back. Loki, who was always a light sleeper, woke with an inquisitive noise as she bumped into him.

“Mhm?” He rolled onto his side, automatically reaching out to drape an arm over her and draw her close, and came up against an unexpected shape. He woke a little more. “Sif?”

“It's just Ullr. He had a bad dream.”

“Put him between us, then.” He moved back, making room.

“Go on, Ullr.” Sif held the covers up. “You heard your father.” She smiled as Ullr promptly scrambled over her body and was instantly gathered in close by Loki.

Loki nuzzled Ullr’s hair, breathing in the sweet scent of his son and wrapping an arm securely around him as Sif turned to face them, letting the covers fall back over them, enclosing them in a soft, warm cocoon. Ullr didn’t seem visibly distressed, so either the dream hadn’t been too bad, Loki thought, or the memory of it was already fading. Still, there were words which had to be said.

“I’ve got you,” he said softly. “You’re safe.”

#ficwoodelf #loki #frigga #odin #thor #sifki #a bit at the end #marvel fic #mornings

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lothloriien · 4 years ago

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hey y’all!! for the first time in about four years, i drew something today purely for fun. this is a drawing of linh cinder. it’s a messy sketch and it took four tries to even get share-able, but i’m gonna share anyways. if you want to hear more about why i stopped/started drawing, i’ll put it under the cut

about four years ago, when i was in sixth grade, there was a “popular” squad. one of my best friends and one other girl im fairly close with were both in that squad. i wanted to be part of their group so desperately, i started drawing. all of them were good at art, so i figured if i was friends with some of them, and read the same books they did, and liked the same colours they did, and liked to draw, i was in.

spoiler: it didn’t end well. i realized that it was just jealousy: jealousy that they took my best friend from me, jealousy that they were all friends and had a friend group, and jealousy that i couldn’t be part of it. besides the two i was originally friends with, im only chill with one of the others. i figured out that i dont need to be friends with people i dont like just for the security of having a friend group. and i stopped drawing.

it just had bad connotations for me. the “leader,” the most popular girl in the grade, and the one i desperately wanted to be friends with, was a terrible person to me. i’m sure she isn’t actually a bad person, but she hurt me horribly. and drawing reminded me of her. and i’d never enjoyed it anyways, since i never got the chance to. it was always just a tool to be popular, not a real hobby.

fast forward about 3 years. i decided i wanted to draw again. i had no idea where to start. i won’t go through the entire year i spent trying to find the courage to pick up a pencil and draw again, but it happened. then, a few days ago, @blueraspberry-official gave me some great advice. it was all stuff i logically knew, about how art doesn’t have to be good to be art. but somehow, when he said it, it really got to me.

so today, for the first time in four years, i picked up a pencil to draw. not to fit in with a crowd, or to do something with my sister. but for fun. for pleasure. and guess what? i enjoyed it!

maybe i’ll keep drawing. thank you tegan <3

#the lunar chronicles #the lunar chronicles fanart #linh cinder #cinder fanart #thorne #jacin #kai #scarlet #wolf #cress #winter #iko

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elecman108 · 4 years ago

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Man, I forgot to post 90% of my art here for the past while. I’m gonna do an art dump in this post under the cut. Enjoy the bonk emoji if you don’t click the read more, and man am I dumb and forgetful lmao.

Includes: OCs getting names, a Sonic impression, a D&D map, homosexual energies, a sheep floating in the astral sea, a birthday drawing I already posted, Hex Maniac Ender, D&D Characters, D&D Characters as Miis in Miitopia, Little Hater Axel, local Demon in the consciousness of my D&D character yelling at him, illegal plants, a necromancer being cute, an actual event that happened in a D&D game two days ago, and Mermay drawing.

That’s everything in here as a TL;DR, I guess. Enjoy your day!

I’m gonna try and sort of have them in chronological order, oldest first, but I may end up putting them in the wrong order. If I do... Whoops, I guess?

[04/14/21] - This isn’t really new art, but I started to work on giving the four OCs of mine without a full name full names... I have not finished this bit, though. So Hunter and Akira have full names, and Warlock and Assassin only have temporary names. This may end up like Seven where I put in their names as a temporary name (7th OC I’d made at that time) and it just kind of... sticks. Lmao.

[04/20/21] - Alone on a Friday Night? God, you’re pathetic. I didn’t colour this one because it was a half-attempt at a meme image I still like it, though, so I might end up colouring it. It’s gonna appear again whenever I do my “unfinished drawings art dump” at some point probably in... June? I know I said I’d post them last month but forget it, lmao, it’ll happen eventually.

[04/20/21] - A D&D Map! This was to help me visualize the layout of my D&D character’s ship he used to be on. Also for my DM if they ever put us aboard the ship. The little fella in the corner is just there to vibe. This map is made of free to use assets from This Website, so while I’m gonna say DONT USE MY MAP WITHOUT PERMISSION, feel free to make your own!

[04/26/21] - Lesbian Day of Visibility drawing of yours truly, the disapointment! That’s... really all I have to say about this, honestly. It was just for that one day and that was it, lmao. I mean, I accidentally lined it in dark pink, so.. .That’s different, I guess?

[04/30/21] - Do Astral Seas dream of Ensorcled Sheep? Does the City know what Sheepleb is going to do? What crimes he may commit? Who knows! This was fan art of Critical Role ep. 134 if I remember correctly, right at the end when they jumped into the portal into the astral sea and Caleb was a sheep. Using my knowledge of the German language, I knew the word for “shit”, and had to use it.

[05/07/21] - This was already posted, but it’s going in here to dilinuate that it was drawn at this point. Also, aside from playing Miitopia, this is all I have to show for myself until the 12th.

[05/12/21] - Hex Maniac Ender challenges you to a Pokemon Battle! WIll you win against my team? My sis, who loves fairy types, pointed out to me that there’s a fairy girl and hex maniac duo, so I’d be the hex maniac. I spent... Over a week drawing this, because I basically had to redraw the Hex Maniac art from scratch in a higher quality size, and then draw myself over it. So... You can excuse the low-effort background for once. It was basically this, and then my birthday doodle from May 1st to May 12th, and then I took a break to draw up several D&D characters quickly for fullbody references.

[05/12/21] - Remember this art I made several months ago? I finally added my other two completed characters! I have three more named but without character sheet D&D characters, so for now this is just Kara, Axel, Golden Shadow, Kau, Cecillia, and Miri. Kress, Tempest, and Melia will have to wait until I make character sheets for them to be posted, and... For when I probably make more D&D characters. I have at least 9 additional, incomplete character ideas floating around, so... I’m never gonna be done this art, huh?

[05/12/21] - Speaking of D&D characters, did you know I’ve been making them as Miis in Miitopia? So here is their finished full body art next to their Miitopia self! Some of them look a little off (Golden Shadow, Cecillia) because of limitations of the editor and shading issues, some of them look a little off (Kau, Kress) because this is a human face canvas that I’m using to make a non-human face, and some of them (Melia, Axel) look REALLY GOOD. Common traits among my D&D characters include green eyes and tall. You wanna know why? Because I am tall and... despite having red eyes, I do have green eyes under the coloured contacts.

[05/15/21] - More D&D stuff! This is based around my D&D group’s current Rime of the Frostmaiden campaign where our Goliath Fighter, Nioh, ends up getting a little bit of hate for being cocky, and our little (well over 6′) hater, Axel, is just a man full of irritation. These are the tallest two characters of the group at the moment. Someone send help. Nioh belongs to one of the other D&D players, Axel (and his stupid additude) belongs to me.

[05/15/21] - This is what me playing D&D feels like. Me, the demon entity trapped inside the head of my D&D character, yelling at them to do things while the dice decide that they’re gonna get bopped a hundred times by a yeti and somehow still survive. This is also a reference to our first or second game where I just ran off like sixty feet to one side of the battle map to fight a Crag Cat and was just in Gay Baby Jail until like two turns later when I could run back to the others. I also drew him not in his winter gear even though this is a bit from when we were atop Kelvin’s Carin in an icy cave, so maybe that’s why he’s at low HP.

[05/15/21] - Melia has good gardening tips, such as Use A Mars Mii Trap To Hide A Body Because They Are Endangered And It Is Illegal To Dig Them Up. I love her a lot, because she’s the youngest of four, all four sisters based around the different seasons. She’s based around Autumn, so she’s all orange and yellow and brown and is so cute. Also she’s Chaotic Neutral, as if she didn’t need to be mildly more threatening.

[05/15/21] - Cecillia is my Tiefling gal who lived in a very northern town plagued by cold weather and snow, and Axel is my Pirate guy who spent most of his time further south on the high seas and warmer weather. So, naturally... I’ll use the guy more acclimatized to the hotter weather in the campaign where we spend 99% of it in the snow. She uses Tarot Cards as her spell focus, and I decided to sneak my other D&D characters onto her Tarot cards so naturally, Axel is The Hanged Man, given his backstory and personality. She’s a very cheerful and friendly Tiefling Necromancer of the Hexblade, so she’d for sure take care of those around her to ensure their success. Especially if they’re on her Tarot Cards, and their spirit comes to her aid when she asks for them.

[05/16/21] - Content Warning; Ryma thinks too much into local stupid moron’s lack of knowing how to answer a question and thinks too much into the reputation of Pirates. Poor Axel, man doesn’t know how to socialize with people who aren’t pirates and is used to being hostile towards everyone, so when he’s asked a question that his answer to is “uhh... no?”, he panics and ends up making a mistake that leads him to think that Ryma can read his mind. Ryma belongs to another of the D&D players. I guess me drawing all those spicy Cow Costumed OCs earlier just brought me to drawing Axel being a bottom in this, huh?

[05/16/21] - It’s Mermay, which means more OC drawings! Here’s Theo after drinking some potion that turned him into a mermaid, and Seven, tiredly, collecting his stupid boyfriend so that Lailah can fix the fact he’s turned into a mermaid. Mer!Theo is based around his sword’s colours of indigo-purple with red accents, which looks a little weird since Theo is the Blue one of the group, but... it looks cool, I guess. Seven’s just the same outfit as always, just no gloves this time.

And that’s it for the art dump! This was, frankly, MASSIVE. I’ll try and remember to upload both on Twitter and Tumblr at the same time, but... Ah... I have been drawing a fair bit. Just mostly sketches and linework that I haven’t finished and may not actually finish. If they’re not completed, I’ll dump them all into something at the end of the month or whatever. Maybe you’ll get the old sketch of the Axel face in panel 3 because in the sketch phase it was an Ahegao face, in the clean sketch it was a lip bite, and in the linework and final it’s just horny face. lmao.

Top ten things I have to remember for drawing: AXEL HAS A SCAR AND GREEN EYES. I remember his eye colour now, but if you look at his fullbody ref, he’s got brown eyes. And, naturally, I keep forgetting to put in his scar. He has more, but most of them are located in areas covered by his clothes. So if I ever draw him shirtless I guess I’ll have to place them somewhere.

Also maybe finish the reference sheets I have left to finish so I can post more of them, since I have two “Pets” completed (Roko and Mona’s nameless pet), but I have to do up Hunter, Warlock, Assassin, Akira, Myuut, and Stella. I’m betting when I do complete two more, it’ll be Hunter and Akira. Those two are the most fun to draw, at least.

#the disappointment speaks #drawings by me #OCs #D&D #art dump #Miitopia #of all of these drawings I gotta say the most cursed is censored bottom!Axel and the most blessed is Cecillia's lap nap #I drew a lot of D&D stuff lately! Most of my OC stuff has stayed in the sketch stage so #I guess that says something about what I've been prioritizing in my drawings?#Also that drawing a twunk as a twink is incredibly funny and cursed. love my pirate boy

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socialpracticegrouprca · 4 years ago

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‘What do our publics look like now?’

Activity with Sadie Edginton June 16th 2020

‘Here is my lockdown publics diagram developed for a workshop session, which I led with a group of students for the RCA Social Practice Group. I led a session on this again afterwards with a group of art educators and artists for a practice sharing group. Called ‘Writing the Rules for Zoom’ started by Alex Parry it was kick started by Alex’s development of ideas around this topic for a session for the social practice group in May 2020.

The diagram asks questions about different networks, communities and publics that we are communicating with and are in connection with (in the context of the first 3 months of lockdown). I developed mine through a process of creating a few drawings, into this kind of Venn diagram overlapped series of shapes. It was interesting to think about who is ‘the public’ to me, are these people I just don’t know, the ‘unknown’? Or people in various roles, networks or spaces? The process of doing it explored which groups of people I tended to identify as being ‘the public’ or which different publics and communities I was aware of being in contact with, both virtually and physically, at this time.

Putting people into ‘categories’ can of course be problematic, so it was definitely a process of thinking through this. Do publics get reduced or expanded at this time? As the people we are in touch regularly has physically changed a lot, depending where you happen to ‘lockdown’ or which networks or communities you are part of, I wondered how we can analyse and unpick possible and potential new ‘publics’ or communities to interact with, to play with as an audience or to set artwork within, or to communicate with. The delivery drivers, the supermarket workers, the people who walk past your house, these are all potential collaborators, viewers or audiences. Memorable moments in the workshops were: people identifying making regular connections with dogs (not their owners) on the beach, wondering who the people are behind newsletters in email inboxes, having the unnerving ability to ‘select’ online communities and students commenting on the ‘outsourcing’ of care and being able to be in a position of selecting which people or networks they wanted to hear from, speak to, listen to at this time.

It was a process of conceptualising the connections and groups as new communities, to seeing potential works coming out of unexpected daily relationships created by the change in social networks due to the pandemic. To see who or how we communicate in terms of varying distances. One artist commented that it made her think about the varying distances of intimacy that she has now with different people, a shorter distance with a partner, then family members, growing to huge distances, from 1 metre to 2 metre’s, to online distances that stretch across the world.’

More about the session below:

Social Practice Group Session 6, Tuesday 16th June 2020

Notes written: 22/06/2020 by Sadie Edginton

We wanted the last social practice session to be different. After experiencing other practitioners work over the weeks, we wanted the emphasis to be turned onto the students, to create some have room for them to try out their own ideas and to experiment with the format. The group had grown to become a space which felt comfortable, some recognisable faces every week, although there was always a few new people which worked well. Everyone could potentially test out ideas within the safety of the online zoom session format. It seemed to have become important that the group had evolved into a sense of familiarity whilst maintaining the possibility for unexpected things occurring. One student said, that was what she like about this group, that it was one place she could go knowing something surprising might happen. With some students returning often and creating a general sense of being relaxed, the group had created a comfortable sharing space, where people could voice their ideas, share thoughts about where they were, and most seemed open to trying new things out.

We had been playing with this space for the last few months since the beginning of lockdown. This was the sixth session and last (official) session of the school year. We'd had sessions by Louise Shelley, a curator; about group listening and reading processes, Alex Parry led us through a playful workshop stretching the rules for zoom, and Tim tried out his laptop-synthesiser experiment creating collective sounds out of objects in our homes with students now based across the globe overlapping their object orchestras into a magical din.

I had missed a session two weeks before where the group had had an informal conversation about what they'd like to try out. We'd had some interesting feedback too where students had said they felt like this space for sharing and practicing was needed, and it seemed to open-up space for vulnerability (through sharing) and support.

I had planned a vague structure for the last session, I would introduce, do a check-in so that everyone had a chance to speak and do a half hour workshop about mapping the publics and communities we were connecting with now (and how this has changed during lockdown).

There was then time for three students slots; Sally's workshop on confronting the awkwardnesses of online communication, followed by a 5 minute break, then Kats workshop about the taste and other sense. Everything went over time-wise so there was only 10 minutes left for Yuka to play us her experiments with the spatiality of sound.

We started by going around the group using these two questions for a check-in.

'What does 'the public' look like, from where you are now?'

'How are you connecting to a community?'

These questions were borrowed from a recording of a discussion here: http://www.nowandthere.org/blog/2020/4/7/nt-asks-what-does-public-mean-right-now

It was interesting to hear about where the students were based, most in the UK, then China, Japan and Paris. We had seven students and Hannah and I, so altogether it worked well for creating a grid of nine on the gallery view on zoom. As we went around the group I was struck how each student shared with us a detailed picture of how they were in unexpected circumstances and feeling isolated. Some had just travelled to another place, and were stuck living mostly inside and with family, they were not sure about what a local community might look like. One had discovered new communities through volunteering for local mutual aid groups, Hannah mentioned working with existing connections to create networks of in different ways, new connections with animals and birds seeming to be important. Some international students admitted they didn't feel like they had a community, whether they were in London, or back home. One said she felt like there were layers of community, from those close by who were a local support system, then the online groups she was part of, and then her family members who were contactable by phone. Another student said that communities felt ‘chosen’ at the moment; that you could select who you wanted to be in touch with, and it was almost a way of ‘outsourcing care’. Another mentioned that new rituals had emerged in her local village neighbourhood, kicked off by the Thursday clap for carers, leading to local people creating other ways to come together in the street, such as VE day where they set-up tables outside. Another student said it was so long since he had been in Beijing, now that he was back there again, he had to try to find people again who he had known a long time ago.

Next we created 'What do our publics look like now?' diagrams. Attempting to get away from a formal 'pdf' presentation, I sketched out the questions and stages of the diagram drawing onto paper beforehand, and held them up to the screen. I asked everyone to draw a square or circle and inside it to list groups of people, categories of people that they were seeing in real life, in 'physical space'.

I was interested in what different or new groups of people were identified, in the lock-down. For instance I was not staying where I usually live and discovered that I was coming into contact with; next-door neighbours, people who walk past the house, the vet, the nurse at the GP, dog walker friends and dogs who were our dogs friends, delivery drivers, shop-keepers and the public we see on walks. This changed again when I went back to London.

We drew overlapping bubbles and listed those we connected with through 'virtual' connections, then 'phone calls', emails, social media, and letters.

The idea was to then circle in a different colour, those categories of people who you didn't know. Or who you saw as 'the public'. I was intrigued as to if it could be used to locate a new audience/ public for an artwork, project or workshop.

Practice diagram by my mum, Sue Edginton

Holding up my publics diagram to the screen

Reflection: We did the activity a bit too quickly, as it turned out it takes a long time to think through all of this, and I did not have time to get proper feedback afterwards. I showed a few slides about this idea of the physical public becoming much closer, smaller and local, and then the opposite happening with the virtual public where it really expands to include an international community. The publics or groups I was working working with or had contact with still, had really changed too. From working in schools and care homes with lots of people and children face-to-face, this has changed. Now I was just in touch with people via zoom calls or colleagues via the phone, and all the work with children and elders had been put on hold for now. Where were all the people and how were they right now, what were they doing? A lot of people I talked to who work in the community found themselves asking similar questions.

Museum of the Street by Louise Ashcroft and her local neighbourhood, Walthamstow, London, May 2020

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ashes-and-ashes · 5 years ago

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Birthday Part 1

A bit of backstory to this fic:

So tomorrow (July 15th) happens to be the amazing Aly’s birthday! Seeing as she is one of the most incredible people ever, I decided that I was going to write her a birthday fic.

Of course I had intended for it to be pure fluff, but my evil brain doesn’t work like that. After an hour, I seemed to have 2808 words of angst, with very little fluff. And (despite Aly being the Princess of Angst) I was not sure if she wanted such depression on her birthday.

So, I split the story up! Here is the first bit of angst, and I’ll post the fluffy bit tomorrow. The fluffy bit is purely dedicated to Aly, and I’ll write an incredibly long and gushy post about her tomorrow. However, here’s the first angst and depressing bit - hope it’s okay!

@withrewings

Sirius was going to explode.

It was March 4th, a mere 6 days before Remus’ birthday and Sirius still hadn’t managed to produce anything suitable for his present. He had started drawing in January, convinced that three months was enough for him to create something good enough to give to Remus, but the days had rolled by and suddenly Sirius was left with a sketchbook of half-finished drawings and a looming sense of dread.

He winced, bending back over the page, ignoring the shiny charcoal film covering the side of his hand. His fingers ached from grabbing onto the stub, his back sore from being hunched over the paper for hours, but Sirius didn’t really care. He bit his lip idly, tracing the curls of Remus’ hair, the tilt of his chin, the hollows carved into his back and arms -

“Goddamn it!” With a snarl, Sirius stood, interrupting Marlene’s rant about the Slytherin Girls. He hurled the sketchbook to the ground; the back cover bent with a slight crunch as it hit the floor, the pages flipping open to reveal the sketch he had just been working on. “God-fucking-damn it!”

The others barely looked his way - Sirius’ outbursts were common enough now that everyone had gotten used to the swearing and yelling. It was late at night - they were the only ones in the common room. James bent down, scooping up the book with one hand, eyes still fixed on Marlene. “Go on Marls. What did you say to her?”

“More like what did you do to her,” Dorcas muttered. “No way that girl made it out in one piece.”

Marlene flashed a quicksilver grin. “I hexed her nose off. Completely. Transfigured it into the tiniest mushroom attached to her ugly face. God, they were so mad.”

James let out a laugh, throwing his head back; in the background Sirius noticed one of the twins (Either Fabian or Gideon - the light from the fireplace was dim, and he couldn’t quite pick out the details on their faces) hand a galleon to Benjy, who was sitting on the mantle. “Priceless.”

Peter leaned forward, eyes wide. “How long do you have detention for?”

Marlene shrugged. “Detention will last 3 months. But the tales will last forever. I’ll be a goddamn Hogwarts legend.”

“You’re already one,” Lily assured her. She tapped James on the shoulder. “Prongs. Want to give Sirius his book back?”

With a smirk, James held the book out to Sirius, the covers still open to reveal the half-finished drawing. “Oh right. I forgot.”

Sirius snatched the sketchbook back, flipping him off. “Oh, shut up.”

They were all meant to be discussing Remus’ party (Remus having gone to bed ages ago) but the hours had ticked away and they had planned absolutely nothing. Sirius wasn’t surprised - nothing ever seemed to work when everyone got together, except for a whole heap of snogging between Marlene and Dorcas, and James and Lily.

He scowled down at the sketch in his lap, the half-finished outline of Remus, silhouetted against a huge moon, the curve of his spine mirroring the constellations twinkling above him. “Jesus Christ,” he muttered, the words bitter in his mouth. “I’m so screwed.”

Lily looked surprised. “Why? That one is beautiful, Sirius. He’d love that.”

Sirius shook his head, violently flipping to another page. “No! This one is...is…”

Dorcas raised an eyebrow. She was sprawled in a huge chair, legs dangling over the side; Marlene gave her bare legs a long look before winking at Sirius. “I think this one is pretty.”

“God.” Sirius groaned, slamming the book shut. “It’s romantic. It looks like we’re dating or something.”

Benjy snorted, swinging his feet from where he was perched on the mantle. “Aren’t you already?”

Sirius flipped him off; he could feel blood rising to his cheeks. “I’m pretty sure Remus is straight, Benj.”

“Only one way to find out,” Kingsley muttered; the room erupted in laughter.

“I say,” mused Marlene, “That you should draw him in an intimate position.”

“Maybe with a collar,” Fabian called, “And chains, black leather and fishnets - “

Dorcas laughed. “A gag!”

“You should draw me in that!” Benjy yelled over the laughter. “I’d love to be drawn in collars and chains and black leather fishnet stockings.”

“Oh shut up,” Sirius said. He scowled, staring down at his hands; there was a scar shaking across his index finger where his mother had broken it once. “You guys are absolutely useless.”

“Says the guy without a present,” Lily muttered. Sirius stuck his tongue out at her.

Gideon rolled his eyes. “Look,” he began, “Remus is...Remus. He’d love anything you drew him. Stop over complicating it.”

Sirius spread his arms out wide. “Over complicating is what I do, darling.”

Benjy snorted. “I’d prefer that you do Remus.”

He was definitely blushing now, Sirius could feel the heat rising to his cheeks, spreading over the back of his neck like a flood. He scowled again, running a hand through his hair; it was already wild and tangled, paint and God knew what else caught in the dark locks. “You know what?” he said, then paused. “I was going to say ‘Screw you all’ but I reconsidered because I knew you would turn it into something about screwing Remus. So go eat a bowtruckle.”

He could hear Benny’s voice carry, even as he turned the corner and started up the stairs. “Why don’t you eat Remus?”

Sirius scowled. “Fuck off Benjy!”

Sirius glares down at the paper.

He knew he wasn’t going to give this one to Remus anyways. It wasn’t even the drawing that screwed it up - the paper was crinkled from where he had grasped it, the lines smudged and faded, too intense and too bold. It turned everything into hard lines, points instead of curves, edges instead of sweeps. He knew he was wasting time, drawing something that he would never, could never show Remus but it lessened the tightness in his chest, made it easier to breathe.

He had 2 sketchbooks. The first one had a red cover, and he used it for all his doodles. Pages of simple things: wand tips and goblets, candles and flowers, spellbooks and cauldrons and hundreds of unicorns. He brought that one everywhere, kept it in his school bag, was always doodling in it until the book was finished.

The second book was black, the cover heavy and Sirius always kept this one under his bed, because who wouldn’t know? This book contained everything - a boy on his knees, broken fingers, a single burning piano key. Scars, hundreds of them, rendered in perfect detail, all torn flesh and blood and bones, the lashes seared into his brain. He drew fingers with scar marks and backs with claw marks and even the broken, bleeding figure of an angel with its wings sawed off.

And Remus. This book was filled with Remus as well, all the shattered, beautiful parts of him, all the scars and cuts and marks. He drew Remus crying, and Remus screaming and sometimes he drew Remus kissing him.

He stared down at the drawing now, splayed on the page in front of him. He had hesitated when he drew him and Remus, but once he started he couldn’t stop. The charcoal spilled out of him, bleeding onto the paper, and everything was the same. Two boys kissing, the desperation clear in the clenching of their fingers or the arch of their spine, mused curls and closed eyes and scars like brushstrokes on their skin and Sirius couldn’t have stopped himself if he tried.

He wondered, sometimes, what Remus would say if he saw him, if he peeked into that black sketchbook, saw every dark crack in Sirius’ heart laid bare. Everyone had their secrets, he supposed. His were just more open than most.

There was a rustling sound from behind him; Sirius quickly flipped the page. It was late at night, the room filled with the sounds of people breathing, dreams spiraling into the air. The nightmare had woken Sirius up, the fractured visions of his parents and Death Eaters, and he had spent the rest of the night drawing, filling up even more pages in the sketchbook. He glanced down and started; the lines he had made were so dark that the colour had bled through the page, leaving smudges and streaks and the delicate tracery of lines carved into the page in front of him. He hastily closed the sketchbook, pulling the red one onto his lap, opening it to a random part in the book. Damn. This one was of Remus too, a idle study of him sleeping, his curls framing his face with gold.

He was about to turn the page again when the curtains on his bed flew open. It was as if his drawing had come to life; Remus stood there, golden curls forming a messy halo around his face, his eyes half lidded from exhaustion. He yawned, running his hands through his hair. “You okay?”

Sirius shrugged. “Sure.”

Remus frowned. “You’re always so closed off. It’s like you’re hiding something. Keeping something locked away.”

Yeah, my love for you, Sirius thought, but he didn’t say anything. He shifted, pulling the covers up around him, focusing on his breathing. Remus shot hi a concerned look.“Nightmares?”

“Yeah.” Sirius’ hands tightened around the blankets. “I’ve been up for awhile.”

Remus regarded him thoughtfully, then pulled the curtains wider. He slid into bed next to Sirius, gently rearranging the blankets until his warm legs tangled with Sirius’ cold ones. “It’s like lying in bed next to an ice sculpture.”

Sirius forced a laugh. Remus was too close right now; he was certain that he could feel his heart pounding. “It’s like lying in bed next to a furnace.”

Remus laughed, the sound warm and rich. God, Sirius could drown in that sound. He shifted over, giving Remus some more room, twisting until his head was tucked under Remus’ shoulder. He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath, the air smelling of wool and pine and clean cotton -

“Shit,” Remus said. “Is that me?”

With a jolt, Sirius opened his eyes; the book on his lap had fallen, the pages splayed open to reveal the sketch of Remus sleeping. He swallowed, hard, fighting to keep his voice steady. “No. It’s the fucking Duke of Alytown.”

Remus punched his shoulder. “Shut up.” With a shaking hand he reached over, picking the book up carefully, tilting it so the light fell on the pages and illuminated the drawing. “Did you...did you draw this?”

Sirius resisted the urge to roll his eyes. His heart was hammering triple-time in his chest, like a huge drum - he was certain Remus could hear it. “Nope. I just fall asleep with drawings of you on my lap all the time. I actually commissioned Snape to draw this, you see - he would creep into our room at night and - “

“Jesus.” Remus’ mouth hung open, his eyes wide as he turned the drawing back and forth. This close Sirius could see his eyelashes, golden against his skin, so fine that it looked as if they were spun from spider silk. “God. This is beautiful, Sirius.”

“You’re beautiful,” Sirius said, then quickly snapped his mouth shut. Smooth, Sirius. Real smooth you fucktard.

Remus laughed, more in shock then anything. “Me? I’m not...I’m not…”

“Beautiful?”

Remus looked down at his hand. “Yeah.” He pauses, clearly struggling with something; his mouth twisted into a bitter smirk before he continued. “Just look at me. I’m...I’m ruined. I’m scarred all over.”

Sirius bit his lip, hard. In his mind he saw his back, the lashes standing out like lines of silver, raised and thick and livid. He swallowed, hard. “Sometimes the cracks are the most interesting part of a sculpture.”

The barest edge of a smile ghosted over Remus’ face. “But it’s still ruined all the same.”

If only you could see, Sirius thought, If only you could see how beautiful you are, how perfect you’ve become. If only I could draw you the way I see you.

He coughed; with a steady hand he tore the sketch out of his book, handing it to Remus. “Keep it,” he said, then shook his head at the shocked expression on Remus’ face. “It’s yours now. I was going to give it to you for your birthday, but I’ll just whip up another drawing.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah,” Sirius said, and a beautiful, dazzling smile raced across Remus’s face, making it look like the sun had coated him in strands of liquid gold. Beautiful, Sirius thought, and his heart gave a painful twist in his chest.

“Thanks Sirius. But I don’t…I don’t need this, you know. All I want is...is you, I guess. Your heart. I want your heart, Sirius. That’s all.”

Sirius looked down. “Anything for you, Re.”

He couldn’t stop himself from drawing Remus.

The black sketchbook was open on his lap again, a fresh page blank and empty. His hands were dark, coated in the shiny-grey of graphite, his clothes covered in the stuff. He had been drawing for ages without taking a break, his eyes dropping from exhaustion and yet he allowed the sketch to bleed out of him, splattering across the page.

He was almost done the black sketchbook, had only a few pages left. Usually a book would last him 6 months, but he had filled half the book in less then 3 weeks. It was like he was an addict, thirsting for something he could never have, lightning and thunder and rain echoing through his veins. He couldn’t stop himself now, even as he continued filling the pages, Remus staring up at him from every angle.

Sirius took a shaking breath. It felt like he was underwater, drowning in his feelings for Remus, threatening to blow him apart with every gasping inhale of air. He set the pencil to the paper, letting his mind take over, the curve of Remus’ eyes gradually starting to fill the page.

He remembered the first time he had seen Remus, 5 years ago, standing in the compartment of a train as the sun went down over the hills. He was with James, wild and rebellious because for the first time ever he was free, when the door had opened and Remus had stepped into the compartment.

There was something different about him, even back then, some ethereal way that Remus moved. He remembered how the light had hit Remus’ face in just the right way, casting his features into shadow, making him look like some beautiful bronze statue and all Sirius could do was stare.

There was always some part of him that had loved Remus, but it really hit him in 4th year. He had been playing Quidditch, backlog against the setting sun, and he had looked down and seen Remus in the stands and his heart swelled up and he couldn’t breathe. He knew it then, while hurtling through the sky on his broom, knew he would have given up anything to make Remus happy.

He was drawn out of his thoughts by a sharp crack; he had pressed down so hard on the pencil that it had shattered, pieces skidding all over his sheet. Sirius scowled, glaring down at the page - there was a boy on a broom and a boy on the ground, the light hitting them until it looked like a spotlight, wind whipping their hair around them. He swore, staring down at his hands - it was so obvious. All it would take was for someone to look at his book to know what he felt towards Remus. He couldn’t burden Remus with that, the unrequited feelings of a shattered boy. Remus had already been through far too much - Sirius couldn’t heap another load onto his shoulders.

But what if he did? The thought rose up unbidden. What if he did like you?

His mind flickered back, sorting through the memories of the year - the Train, Remus’ hands tight around his neck. The Christmas Feast, sitting together under the cold half moon. January, grasping onto Remus’ fingers, the desperation in his eyes as he began to change. Valentine’s Day, a single chocolate, a whispered conversation. Sirius, I…

“I what?” Sirius had said.

Remus shook his head. “Never mind.”

So many moments, so many hidden touches, and Sirius’ heart was pounding because what if? What if there was a chance?

He was gripping the sketchbook tightly, so hard that the cover was digging into his palms, scoring lines across his palm. Remus had told him what he wanted that night, didn’t he? I want your heart, Sirius. That’s all.

“My heart,” Sirius said, out loud to the wind. Slowly, his hands tightened around the sketchbook.

He knew exactly what to give to Remus tomorrow.

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natashaashleymarvelromanoff · 5 years ago

Text

ISGYB - One-Shots

This is a follow-up story of one-shots based around my previous story 'I'm So Glad You're Back'. which I will link in below, these one-shots can be read separately but you may also appreciate the story behind them.

‘I’m So Glad You’re Back’

This story will include one-shots of the lives of Natasha and Steve before they were together, after, during the snap and after they brought everyone back.

Also, check out my new masterlist of one-shots based in this same universe!! ---> Oneshot masterlist

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

5 times steve thought about proposing and the 1 time he did.

1 year after the accords.

The rain falls softly against the little window of the motel they've been staying in for the past few days. The darkness outside soaking up the dim light from the lamp sitting next to steve, making the droplets on the window disappear. If it wasn't for the sound of pitter-patter against the glass you wouldn't even tell it had rained.

The blonde, who had been sat up in bed for over an hour now was carefully pressing his pencil in soft strokes over a page in the back of the small notebook he had now turned into a little book of sketches instead. Next to him laid the woman he loved, lost in sleep for the first time in days. Natasha is laid on the right side of the small double bed on her left side facing him, her left hand under her head and the right splayed out next to her face.

Now and then steve would look up from his little sketchbook and steal a stare at the spy that stole his heart. But the time he spent in-between those glances, steve drew. And it was as if he drew without realising what it was he was drawing until he was finished and lifted his head from the angle of looking down and looked upon the pencil markings on the page.

It was a ring.

Steve drew a ring. And not just any, from the depth of his memory steve had drawn a ring that looked exactly like the one his mother wore. 3 diamonds all next to each other, the middle one bigger than the other two and encased in a silver band with little markings and detail surrounding them.

Taking in the sight of the drawing, steve also took in a deep breath. His eyes never leaving the paper until he heard a sound to the right of him. Natasha had moved slightly in her sleep, causing her to roll over onto her back. For a second, steve let himself think of seeing this every morning for the rest of his life. Falling asleep and waking up next to Natasha every day and night.

He imagines what it would be like to marry her. To see a ring that means so much to him on her finger, forever binding them together. Steve knew there was no one else for him. It had always been her. And it always will be. And now that they were finally together after years of bad timing he couldn't stomach the thought of being apart from her ever again. But he wouldn't ask her. Not this soon. Officially they had only been together for nearly 3 months. The accords and the berlin fight nearly a whole year ago now. He didn't know how long they would be on the run for or if they would even stop but he knew that one day he would ask. But now wasn't the right time for either of them. It had only been 3 months and steve knew if he did ask it would scare her.

So with one last glance at the page, steve ran his thumb over the page and closed the book, leaning over the edge of the bed to slip it back into his go-bag next to the bed. Once sitting upright again, steve twisted his torso and reached over for the dim lamp stood on his bedside table and turned it off, the room fully being immersed into darkness with the sound of rain slowly lightening up.

Shifting his body down the bed, steve stopped once his head finally met the pillow and he carefully manoeuvred the duvet over him properly. But then another whimper came from Natasha's lips, her head turning slightly as she tossed in bed. Steve knew by now that the small whimpers and sound she made, the little movements were nothing like when she had her bad nightmares, just bad memories or thoughts that showed up in her sleep. So steve pushed himself closer to Natasha, lying himself on his side and he curled up against her, his left arm slowly snaked under her head cushioning her with himself and his right arm rested on her side, curling all the way around until his hand is over her stomach, pulling her closer to him until her back meets his front. Once he's closed the distance between them, his spy now safely nestled in his embrace, the little whimpers and movements become slower and quieter, slowly disappearing from her dreams. Once satisfied with his efforts to calm her in her sleep, steve rests his head behind her, the smell of her hair in his nostrils as he finally succumbs to sleep, holding the love of his life in arms and imagining what it would be like to marry Natasha and spend the rest of their lives together and hoping one day, maybe he could get the ring he drew made for her, so she could keep it forever.

2.1 year together.

It's weird to think it has been a whole year since they ended up together. They didn't spend it like how other couples did. Instead, they had been on the run from the government and in hiding from 117 countries. But that small set back didn't stop them. And it certainly made sam even happier to have his 2 best friends end up together too, not only because he had been rooting for them since the start but also because he's been able to have his own bed for the entire year now instead of swapping in and out with steve for who had to sleep on the couch or even having to share the bed with the super-soldier sometimes.

And coincidently, the same night as their 1st anniversary also happened to end up on a day that they didn't have to do anything but relax. Most of the time they had leads or missions that need to be taken care of but tonight was one of the rare ones where they could do whatever they wanted. And in the light of their anniversary, sam suggested they all go out for drinks to celebrate. Steve was a little hesitant at first, still wary of being caught or seen but was soon convinced by his best friend and girlfriend who were extremely excited by the idea of a night of letting go.

So in a little town inside of Mexico, the three former avengers got ready and found a busy bar, well it was more of a club, but nat and sam knew if they told steve it was a club then he probably wouldn't have gone. But if they were gonna spend time having some fun and not get caught, being surrounded by drunk people dancing was better than a quiet bar.

After a few hours and quite a few drinks, or more than quite a few in sams case, the three headed out to the dance floor, steve was awkward at first, not really knowing how to dance in the way everyone around him was, hell, he had only ever danced with Natasha to slow music like how they did in his day. This was something entirely new to him even if he had been out of the ice for 7 years already. But Natasha was right there for him, smirking at him as she dragged him by his arm closer to her until they were touching chest to chest. She pulled on his arm again, pulling him down slightly until their faces were now touching each other, their lips gently going over each other, barely touching as she teased him. Then, teasing him, even more, she quickly away from him and lifted both her arms to wrap them around his neck. His own hands instinctively placing on her hips as she started to sway them.

She didn't push for him to dance too wildly, even just in a club with drunk people surrounding them whilst swaying was making him blush to his ears already. But despite the blush colouring him pink, the dozens of young adults all crammed together, smelling of sweat and alcohol as they danced to the hideous rave music, All it took was one look at the woman in his arms and all that went away. The music blurred in his ears and the people around them disappeared from his view.

Natasha was all he could see. Her eyes were closed as she listened to the music and let it carry her away fro a few minutes. Pretending like she had nothing to worry about or nothing to do the day after, steve could feel her grip around his shoulders and neck and she held onto him, enjoying the feeling of letting go for once. As he gazed upon her face, he couldn't help but just remind himself of the little drawing he had made 9 months earlier when he had been sat in bed with Natasha at his side asleep.

It had been a while since hed looked at the sketch. But it was in moments like this when he would get totally lost in Natasha that he was reminded of it. If it wasn't for the fact they were in the middle of a club and it smelled like Bio and vodka he would have dropped to his knees right there and then and asked her to marry him in an instant. But she deserved better. And if his mother was keeping an eye on him from the grave she’d probably haunt him for the rest of his life for proposing to his girlfriend in such circumstances. So steve pushed the idea from his mind for now. Just allowing himself to get lost like her. In the music, the dancing, her.

3.2 months before the Snap.

It should have been a routine mission like they always were. Well, as routine as being on the run and running illegal missions could be. They were over in Belarus following a lead on some chitauri weapons that had been stolen back in 2012 when they were ambushed. The three avengers had not realised that the arms dealers trying to sell them had known they were coming. So the mission went south, really south. Amidst the fight between the dealers and the trio, one of the alien weapons had been fired, aimed at the ceiling blowing a huge hole into the metal and rock, causing the roof to cave in. the three all ran out of the way and into the corners of the room to find some protection from the falling debris of concrete. But for one of the Avengers, they didn't make it out of the way in time. As the roof fell in, the slabs of rock were falling to fast for Natasha to dodge and run to safety. And eventually, one large piece landed right in front of her, causing her to jump and fall back into another piece of stone just as more debris fell right on top of her, piercing through her lower abdomen and trapping her leg. The blonde let out a cry from the pain. Alerting her teammates to where she was.

Once the building had stopped falling apart, steve and sam finished off knocking out the remaining dealers and buyers if they weren't already dead from the collapse and then went to dig out Natasha. They found her in the far corner of the warehouse, her whimpers and screams allowing them o find her. Steve rushed as fast as he could towards where his girlfriends were pinned. Quickly lifting tons of stone and rock with ease, relieving the pressure from her leg and stomach, but the piece that had ripped through her skin was still impaled. After removing the weight, the blonde man reached over for Natasha, his hand caressing her cheek and he pulled her face towards his direction to make sure she was okay. Natasha could barely keep conscious at this point, her eyes kept opening and closing until they were shut completely, the weigh of trying to keep them open dragging them down. Steve beckoned for sam to go get the quinjet ready and bring it closer for them. They had kept it a few blocks away but close enough to get to once the fight was over, but since sam had his wings he would get there in no time at all so he could bring it back as fast as he could.

As the lovers waited for the jet, steve kept his hand pressed against her stomach, applying as much pressure as he could to the wound, where the concrete shred was still stuck in and also talking to her to try and keep her awake. But it was no use, she was already falling into unconsciousness. Sam soon returned with the jet and helped steve get her inside, leaving it on autopilot as they flew to a place they knew would help her and make sure she would get better. Whilst in the jet, they managed to get the shard out but were unsure if any had broken off inside so the two men tried to keep her as stable as possible until they reached Wakanda.

….

Its been a few hours since they reached the African country of Wakanda. King T'Challa welcomed them with no problem and had already had his sister and the doctors prep to help with Natasha once they arrived. Even with their technology and medical advancements, they still didn't let steve into the room as they worked on her, so instead he waited outside, the procedure hadn't been that long anyway. They had stopped the wound from bleeding and get any last bits of concrete that had broken and sealed up the wound, then pumped her with fluids and healing agent that would regenerate the cells to repair the scar tissue in her body so she wouldn't even be left with a mark after it had healed. It was miraculous what the Wakandan’s could do and how much they were willing to help.

Once they had finished patching her up, the doctors let him inside, she was laid on the bed in a white gown, with just a pillow beneath her head and a thin blanket on top to keep her covered. It wouldn't be long until she woke but it made her comfortable until then.

Seeing her lying on the bed, her hair splayed out on the pillow, knowing that the reason she was asleep was that she was injured made steves heartache. He knew he shouldn't think of the ‘what ifs’, not when she was absolutely fine, but he couldn't help himself.

He imagined what would have happened if they didn't have T'Challa on their side. That Natasha could have possibly died without the proper medical treatment she needed. Himself and sam could only do so much. He wished they should have double-checked all their intel before going in with riad, god, he couldn't even think about how he would cope if he ever lost her, he'd be devastated, probably turn himself in to the government and just let them have him. but he knew he couldn't take it back. But at this moment, watching her breath in her sleep relaxed him a little, knowing she was fine. She was safe. And she wouldn't feel a thing when she woke up.

Reaching over to her face with his hand, steve gently moves his hand to the side of her face to tuck a piece of hair behind her ear. His blue eyes scanned over her face one more time before a sudden thought enters his mind once again. That drawing. She still hadn't found it, but he'd never shown her much of his sketchbook anyway. But it crept up in the back of his mind, especially in moments like this. The thought of asking came to him whilst he watched her, she would wake up and he could just blurt it out. He'd known since they were even together that there was no one else for him. But even if it had been over a year, he didn't quite know if she would be ready for him to ask.

So he decided not too and pushed it into his mind once again. One day hell ask, but it has to be the right moment.

4.1 month before the snap.

This felt familiar.

Lying in bed, in a low star motel, holding the woman he loved in his arms after a few rounds of sex.

In fact, this felt even more familiar, since as he held the blonde Russian all he could think about was marrying her. It had been almost a year since he drew that little sketch in the back of his tattered book. And the idea of asking her was getting stronger by the day.

After their last round of sex, the two curled up in each other embrace and talked their way to sleep, talking about anything and everything that entered their mind in that moment. For Natasha, she was too exhausted to stay awake as long as him and fell asleep not too long ago with his arms wrapped around her back as she laid on top of him with her head on his chest. But Steve, he didn't mind. He got to lay in bed, holding a beautiful woman close to him who he loved. He wouldn't dare move. Natasha was completely out of it and finally relaxed after a few nights of watching their 6.

Turning his head downwards, his eyes landed upon a pile of blonde hair on his chest and a face that it belonged to. She looked perfect. So calm. Like she had no worries in the world. Like it was just the two of them and no one else.

Then steve starts to think about if they lead a normal life. If they had a normal life they could fall asleep like this all the time, they wouldn't have to run every day with the fear of getting caught and thrown in jail. He could see her beautiful face on his chest every day before carefully leaving her in bed whilst he made her breakfast to bring up for her. He could call her his wife. He could get used to calling her that. She would be his wife and him, her husband. He would finally be someone's husband. And not just anybody but Natasha Romanoff's. They would officially be each other’s . He lets his thoughts consume his mind until he finally falls asleep himself. But his last thought before he does is that he doesn't know how or when but he needs to ask her soon. Whether it be next week or a few days. He's going to ask her. But he needs to find the right moment.

5.When Natasha tells him she's pregnant.

He was an idiot. A big idiot. Here Natasha was trying to tell him she was pregnant and he thought she meant she wanted to expand the house. Yeah, he's an idiot.

“You’re pregnant? You're really pregnant?” he breath catches in his throat, the full weight of his words caught up to him as he realises what he's actually asking her. And then she nods.

Steve breathes out a laugh, practically in shock he picks her up at her sides and swings her around in a circle, hugging her close. The redhead laughs at the sudden movement and when he finally puts her down, he kneels on both knees and pulls her closer at her hips, instantly reaching for her shirt to pull it up slightly so he can see her bare stomach. There wasn't anything there and he knew there wouldn't be a bump for a couple more months but just knowing that right now, a baby was growing inside there made him almost pass out.

As he holds her in his hands, steve leans in to kiss her bare skin, just below her belly button. He can feel her fingers start to run through his hair as he does. Once he pulls back he tilts his head back to look up the love of his life. His partner, his spy, the woman who one day would be his wife and all he could do was marvel at her.

Steve was literally consumed in awe at the woman before him, he always had been. Ever since the moment, he had boosted her of his shield to catch a ride on one of the chitauri's ships all those years ago.

She was amazing. And had given him everything he thought he never even wanted or could even have.

And then, once again, a thought came to his mind. He had just said she would one day be his wife. The drawing. He hadn't seen it since he's been back. Hed almost forgot about it actually. That small drawing of a ring he had sketched so many years ago.

There was no doubt about it. He needed to ask. But not now. If he asked now, he felt like it would seem like its just because she's pregnant. She deserved better than that. But this was the final push he needed. He already knew he wanted to ask but this just gave him that extra inspiration to do so.

Looking back at her stomach he gave it another quick kiss before he whispered into her skin.

"I love you so much already.”

And so began the planning.

Plus 1 - The Proposal

It's been 4 months since Natasha told him she was pregnant. 4months of ideas and plans to propose, all that would fall short or weren't good enough for him or even the wrong timing. But that was kind of their thing. He needed it to be perfect but he couldn't find the right way.

….

To make things simple. A few days after Natasha had told him she was pregnant, he took James over to tony's to see morgan, but whilst he was there he asked tony to help him. He needed to find a ring maker, to make the exact ring he wanted. And he needed the best. He would laugh at himself when he catches himself thinking.

‘Only the best for my girl’

Tony was more than happy to help, of course, tony had jokingly poked at the new sketch he had made of his mother's ring since it wasn't as extravagant as tony would have picked, but steve quickly gave his explanation about the ring and how it would be a replica of his mothers. Sarah rogers had been buried with her ring since steve hadn't been able to find out what she wanted to do with it when she died.

But he somehow knew that if his mother was here, or even watching him right now that she would want him to give it to Natasha.

Leaving the sketch with tony, he let the genius handle the arrangements for the ring, which thankfully hadn't been too long. About a month later Once it was done, the soldier took his son over to Tonys once again to get the ring. And it was beautiful, even tony had admitted it was amazing, even for his ‘over the top’ tastes. When hed first glanced at it, steve had stopped breathing for a second. It looked exactly like his moms, it was too breathtaking to describe with words. Natasha would love it. It was just enough.

……

Its a bit chilly on the mid-December night. Even with the heating running through the house, the two avengers still lie close up against one another, soaking up the warmth from each other.

They lied in their usual position of steve spooning Natasha from the back and he holds her to his chest and keeps his arm wrapped around her stomach, protecting their unborn child, she had just started to show last month and the bump was quickly getting bigger every day.

At around 2 am, steve is awakened with a poke. His eyes flutter open slightly in confusion, trying to figure out why he was being woken up. And then he feels it again. A little poke in his shoulder. Carefully pulling away from the redhead in his arms steve turned his head and torso around to see the figure stood at the side of the bed. It doesn't take him long to figure out its James in the darkness.

“Jamie? What are you doing up bud, are you okay?” his voice is a little horse from waking up in the middle of the night but he whispers as best he can.

“I had a nightmare daddy” James's little voice sounded shaky as he told his father what was wrong.

Steves eyebrows furrowed for a second at his son's words, immediately worrying about his son. Glancing back at Natasha asleep, he carefully pulled himself from out under her and swung his legs over the bed, gently picking James up at his sides and carrying him on his hips as he stands up.

“How about we get you a glass of warm milk huh? And you can tell me about your nightmare okay bud?”

James snuffles slightly into steves neck as his father carries him out of their room and downstairs but he nods as steves words.

Once the two boys reach the kitchen, steve sits the young boy on the counter then efforts manoeuvres around the kitchen to pour his son a glass of milk and warm it up for him. After it's done, he passes it to the little blonde and leans against the counter with his arms.

“You wanna tell me about your nightmare?”

“You and mommy died, because of Thanos and me and the baby were left alone and no one was there to save us. Everyone was gone.”

Steves heart almost broke at how sad his son looked. He could see the remnants of tears on his little lashes from where he's been upset. Pushing his arms up, steve stood up to his full height once again and took a few steps towards his sons so they were eye to eye.

“Oh Jamie, you are not alone. me and mom are not going anywhere, I promise you. Thanos is gone remember? We got rid of his ages ago. You don't have to worry about anything okay? We are never going to leave you or the baby.”

Steve could see in his son's eyes that James felt better already. And the enthusiastic nod that followed confirmed it. Talking the empty glass of milk, steve put it in the sink and picked up his son from the counter once again, holding his to his side. The glass of warm milk must have done the trick because it didn't take a few steps up the stairs before James had fallen flat to sleep against his shoulder. Steve let out a little laugh at the sight, feeling a slightly cold patch on his shoulder now from where James had drooled on him. Shaking his head with a smile, steve carefully tucked James back into his bed, kissed his forehead and left the room, quietly shutting the door.

Taking a few strides across the hall, steve ended right back at his and Natasha's room. It's still dark inside meaning Natasha hadn't woken up since he left, but as he got close to their bed, he could see that shed rolled over in her sleep, so she was on her back, comfortable in the middle of the bed. Her bump was sticking out, the pyjama top she was wearing, which was his by the way, curving around it so you could see it better. Her long hair was all over the pillows, the blonde and red flowing everywhere. She looked beautiful. He would never tire of this. Never.

As Steve pulled the cover to get back into the bed, he couldn't help but stare at the bump. A baby was growing in there. Their baby. The midwife and doctors had told them at their last appointment that their baby had just started to develop ears, and that they could actually hear both mom and dad and other noises. It had fascinated steve to no end. Even now, as he looked at the bump, he thought about talking to the baby again.

So not to disturb the redhead, steve shifted himself down the bed, until was laid on his stomach to the left of Natasha, just at the same height as the bump. For a few seconds, Steve lets his insecurities get the better of him. He's nervous. Really Nervous. Technically this is his first baby. Yes, he has James, his son. But he missed out on the first years of his life. He wasn't there to witness his first words or steps or even to change his diaper. He had no idea what he was supposed to do with a baby.

Swallowing the lump in his throat, Steve opens his mouth, ready to talk the baby inside Natasha and gently takes his hand to place on top of her bump, careful not to startle or wake the redhead.

“Hey, there baby. I don't know what to say since I've never really talked to you before. But I guess I'm doing that right now aren't I? Your big brother Jamie had a nightmare tonight, about me and your mom. He was afraid he would lose us. I just want you to know, even though you probably have no idea what I'm saying right now since it's all mumbly to you and I probably sounds like an idiot. That I love you so much and so does your mom, we are never going anywhere and we'll never leave either of you. So when you're finally here, you gotta help James remember that, and I'm sure he'll help you too. Your both the most precious things in my life and I guess I'm just a little nervous, to be honest. I just wanna make sure you and James have the best life.” sighing the super-soldier dropped his head, letting himself release his thoughts to the baby. He needed this. Even just a small confession about his worries had made him feel like a weight had been lifted off his shoulders.

“Your such a good dad.”

Natasha soft voice startled him slightly, not having realised she had woken up when he had been talking to her bump. Lifting his head, blue eyes meet green in the dark. Natasha lifted her hand to his face, placing it on his bearded chin she moves her thumb back and forth stroking it and he looked at her lovingly.

She's woken up about halfway through his speech to the baby, she was quite amazed she didn't wake up when Jamie had come into their room, but instead, she woke up listening to the worries of her soldier as he held and spoke to their unborn child. She could get used to this, watching him as he spoke to the bump. After stroking his chin Natasha moved her hand to join his on her stomach, placing it on top of his own and threading their fingers together as they cradle it.

“You don't have to be nervous. You are amazing with James, I know you weren't here when he was a baby but ill soon get you changing diapers to make up for it.” she teased him, her mouth curling in the corner to smirk at him.

Steve lets out a quiet laugh at her jokes and replies.

“Gladly” he knew she was joking but he would do anything if she asked. Everything he didn't get to do with James he wanted to make up for with their baby, steve wanted to be there for everything.

“Don't worry Steve, you'll be amazing. I know it.” her calm words reassured him. Giving her one last smile, steve crawled his way up the bed, hoisting one arm over the top of her and the other hand on the other side, so he was hovering about her, his arms by the side of her.

Dipping his head down, steve captures her lips into a kiss, her soft lips melding against his own, like instinct for both of them. As he hovers above her he can just feel the swell of her stomach touching his own, Natasha's hands make their way to his face once again, cupping his cheeks and she kissed him.

After a few seconds, there's a thud. Only small and gentle. But it's there. Pulling away from the kiss, both Natasha and steve looked at each other with confusion and realisation.

The baby. The baby had just kicked for the first time.

“Was that-?” Steve asked.

Smiling at the excitement quickly spreading on his face and the feeling from inside her, Natasha gives him a nod.

“Yeah, I think it was.”

Quickly pushing himself off the top of Natasha, steve crawled down the bed between her legs, stopping once he was at the same level as her bump and placed his large hands over it, completely covering the surface, Natasha also sat herself up, her hands shooting to her stomach and placing them on top of steves to join him in feeling the small movements.

After a few seconds, it happens again. A small kick. Steves's eyes lit up, feeling his child kick for the first time. This was the first time he'd ever felt anything like this, it mesmerised him.

“Oh my god.” He's literally amazed. “That's our baby! Do you think she’ll do it again tomorrow? I can't wait for James to see this.”

“She huh? Don't worry I'm sure he will.”

“Oh no, this one's gonna be a girl I know it.”

And it's in this moment, right here, steve looks up from her stomach and at the woman he was in love with, who's looking down herself waiting to feel the kick of their unborn child once again. Steve decides its perfect. He spent months trying to plan a way to ask her, all of them not being good enough or not what she deserved. But he couldn't take it any longer.

Pushing himself away from Natasha on the bed, he jumps off and practically runs towards their bathroom, turning the light on while he's inside, letting some light into their bedroom. Natasha just sits waiting curiously as she watched steve runoff. But after a minute he's back, with one hand behind his back and his hair in disarray from rushing. He looks nervous, she can tell. But the hesitance in his eyes soon turns to confidence as he convinces himself to walk towards her.

As he takes each step he brings himself around her side of the bed, causing Natasha to follow him by turning herself so her legs are swinging off the side to face her soldier. The bump stopping her from leaning too far forward, making its presence known.

Once their face to face, steve falls to both his knees, bringing him to Natasha’s eye level

“Natasha. I love you. No, I'm in love with you. I love Jamie. I love this baby, I love our life. Everything we have, sometimes I just can't believe it's real.” his words cause her to smile. He always had a thing for romantic speeches but there was something different about this one.

“You're it for me. And I should hope you know that by now. I want to spend the rest of my life with you, and I want to be able to call you my wife.” green eyes widen ever so slightly.

Sitting on his knees in front of her as she sat on their bed, with only the bathroom as a source of light for her to see, steve pulls his arm from behind his back and reaches it out to her. Uncurling his hand she sees a little black box, a box that looks too small for his large hands.

Natasha's eyes flicker in recognition of what this little box means. She tried to keep her face from giving her away but she can't help the smile that makes its way to her face as she looks between steve and the little box.

“This isn't how I planned to do this but it just felt right and I'm sorry if I scared you or you think I'm pressuring you…” he's rambling at this point but Natasha doesn't care, leaning as forward as she could, Natasha grabs steve by his shirt and pulls him to her, capturing his lips into a kiss, and cutting his words off as he falls into a natural rhythm of kissing the woman he loved. Their lips dancing with each other like they had done this all their lives.

After a few moments, they both pulled away breathlessly, their foreheads leaning against one another as Natasha still grabs his shirt and steve holds the box.

“Yes.” quirking his lips up, steve teases her one last time.

“You didn't even let me ask.”

“Then ask soldier.”

Correcting his posture properly, steve straightens his back and pulls one knee up to recreate the iconic pose, like tradition. He then pulls out his hand once again, this time opening the box so Natasha could finally see what the box held inside and he takes a deep breath.

“Natasha Romanoff. You are my life. I can say with all my being that you're my soulmate.”

And then came those famous 4 words. The 4 words he'd thought about saying for years. 4 words that if accepted would make her his for the rest of their lives.

“Will you marry me?”

“Yes, you idiot.”

Instantly springing up from his kneeling position, steve leans over and kisses her. Their lips meeting in a passionate embrace as they pour their emotions out into the kiss. But then he pulls away, remembering the box in his hand. Looking down he pulls the ring out of the box as his eyes start to get wetter with his emotions and hold it between his fingers, ready to put the small silver ring on her finger as she holds her hand to him. Sliding the ring onto her, her eyes glisten over as she takes in the sight.

“Steve, It's beautiful.”

“Its a replica of my moms, every time I thought about asking you, it was always this ring I imagined on your finger.”

Natasha is taken aback slightly at his confession, both the fact that it had been specially made for her to look like his mothers and that he's been thinking about asking her for years.

Steve can see the shock on her face and quickly speaks to reassure her.

“Hey, my mother would be so proud and happy to know you are the woman I'm spending the rest of my life with and she’d be even prouder that you're wearing her ring.”

Tears now dropped from her eyes making streaks on her cheeks at his words.

“I love you so much,” she tells him. The only words she can release at the moment. She's too taken away to tell him anything else but is all he needs to hear.

“I love you too Natasha”

#i'm so glad you're back #romanogers #natasha romanoff #Steve Rogers #james rogers #The Avengers #endgame #infinity war #oneshots #captain america #Black Widow

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howtowhumpyourhiccup · 5 years ago

Text

The New Prosthetic

@evilwriter37

Summary: HICCUP WHUMP! Post-RttE, Pre-Httyd 2! Hiccup built himself a new prosthetic leg and he wanted to try it out. Naturally, new creations are bound to have some kinks.

Rating: Teen and up

Words: 3 585

Fandom: How to Train Your Dragon

Prompt: Dislocated Joint

Author’s Notes: Here it is! My very first prompt from my @badthingshappenbingo card!

I actually handled this one a little bit differently than my other fics. Instead of checking the spelling and posting it immediately after finishing it, I let it rest for almost a week before checking for errors. I feel like that helped me a lot with this one.

Constructive criticism is highly appreciated.

Enjoy!

Hiccup felt the tiny flutters of butterflies in his stomach.

Inventing always made him feel like a kid all over again. The initial idea, sketching each design, planning them out, working with his own two hands in the forge... Whenever he smelled the charcoal of his pencils or the metal and smoke of the forge, his heart usually skipped a beat. Everyday stenches that others might find unappealing, but which brought him a sense of familiarity, joy, even comfort on a bad day.

Especially whenever he finished something new, that was when he felt the most thrilled. When a project finally came into fruition and his hard work had ultimately paid off after hours, days, sometimes even weeks of work.

It was an exhilarating kind of feeling that he never tired of and his latest work was special to him.

He made a new prosthetic for himself. A metal leg that could double as a multi-functional tool. Complete with a regular foot that allowed running, a lockpick, a foot for more difficult terrain and one that connected to Toothless' saddle.

It helped him to lay flatter and still be able to correctly manoeuvre the artificial tailfin. This, in turn, enabled them to fly even faster, it made Hiccup a smaller target, let him move his foot out of the stirrup effortlessly, moving gracefully in the sky as one simply became so much easier.

And if this new prosthetic worked, perhaps he could invent something for Gobber as well.

He wasn't too opposed to seeing more Hiccup-y devices pop up in the forge now and again.

But before Hiccup could begin on a new arm or leg for his mentor blacksmithing, he needed to test out his own metal limb first.

And that is why Hiccup had left the house so early in the morning.

Before his dad awoke, the sun was up, the local baker baked his first loaves for the market, Hiccup and Toothless were already up and out the door.

The Night Fury sniffed the new prosthetic Hiccup wore on his stump. Though unfamiliar, it smelled of his Rider and it looked like one of his contraptions as well. He knew Hiccup's handiwork by now.

"So, what do you think, Bud?" Hiccup asked, standing up from the rock he had been sitting on in order to pull it on and showed it off.

Toothless crooned, giving him a reply as he kept his gaze on it. He was impressed, amazed even! Hiccup with his genius and his dexterous hands never ceased to surprise him. Every single time the young man managed to surpass his previous creations and this was no different.

They were in the cove, the place where their friendship first started, and he remembered Hiccup having trouble climbing in and out of their little spot without his help. One of the new "feet", as they were called apparently, was supposed to help him with terrain he used to have a difficult time traversing. Snow and hidden patches of ice were especially troublesome for him.

Toothless was excited to see it work. Much like his Rider, he was always thrilled as well.

"You know, I think this might be my best work yet. And in time, I might actually be able to add on even more! Like a dagger! Gobber really enjoyed the pegleg with the hidden dagger that I gave him for his birthday." Hiccup was no stranger to insecurites, having many of them himself, but at least his ability to invent and create was something he was proud of and relied on quite often.

Toothless had heard enough. Moving, he pushed Hiccup's side with the flat top of his head and then his back, rumbling and crooning as he urged him to walk. He wanted to see this new leg in action already.

"Okay, Bud, okay! I'm going!" Hiccup chuckled and walked away.

He didn't go too far before turning around and coming back, pacing as he stared down at his feet. He wanted to truly feel the soft padding inside, see if there were already any noticeable kinks he should work on, he hoped it felt different from his previous metal leg.

And it did. Gobber had made him a wonderful leg four years ago, but this one, with the rounded off tip, allowed Hiccup to walk easier. It didn't quite work like a real heel, but he noticed he didn't walk as stiff anymore. This would do well to improve his gait.

Toothless crooned excitedly, approaching, circling and headbutting the human's shoulder. He already noticed the difference. Hiccup didn't limp quite as much as he did before either. He still limped, he was always going to, but he also managed to take note of the rounded tip's usefullness.

"So I guess you approve?" Hiccup asked him, judging by the Night Fury's reaction, his newest creation was a success so far.

Toothless purred, giving an almost human-like "yes", and licked him full on in the face.

"N-" While Hiccup was left to sputter and spit as he tried to use his red tunic to wipe his face, his armour had been left home for today, Toothless left his side. Half of that got in his mouth and it wasn't the most pleasant of tastes. Or smells for that matter.

The Night Fury wandered towards that rock Hiccup had been sitting on and gestured towards the saddle lying beside it.

It had been modified as well.

Significantly less wet, but hair still hopelessly matted to his forehead, Hiccup approached.

"Now, I guess it's time for me to show you why I took the saddle, huh, Bud?" He questioned and Toothless gave an impatient groan.

It has been days since their last flight. His Rider had told him then that he wanted to modify it and Toothless hadn't been too opposed, but now he was dying to be back up in the air again. He knew the other felt the same way.

Grabbing the saddle, Hiccup helped his dragon pull it on again.

"Bud, stay still, please? I can't put it on you if you move that much." He chuckled. It was hard for both of them to keep from moving, excited as they were.

As Hiccup pulled on the last buckle, Toothless noticed that the stirrup on his left wasn't quite the same as it once was.

It wasn't a stirrup at all anymore, there was nothing for Hiccup's metal foot to attach itself too.

His Rider noticed the dragon's confusion, Toothless crooned and gestured with his snout to the lack of a stirrup, lifting up his left foreleg. Tapping his shoulder, Hiccup drew his attention again.

"Watch this, Bud." He sat back down again, placed a hand on the wooden cup of his prosthetic and gave it a twist. The new metallic foot disappeared and in its place came a different kind of creation, something that looked like it could attach itself to the saddle and then the lack of a regular stirrup made sense to Toothless.

Gurgling happily, Toothless urged Hiccup to stand and get in the saddle already. It was time to test the new leg up in the sky.

Hiccup didn't need to think twice before climbing up, Toothless practically bumped him onto his back with his snout nudging his Rider's rear.

Once seated and secure, Hiccup clicked his leg into the new stirrup, enjoying the satisfying 'click' it made, and grabbed hold of the handles. The two braced themselves and with a big flap of the dragon's wings and a jump, they were up.

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After spending the past few days stuck on the ground, the sky was a wonderful place to be in again. A welcoming place. Though it did make Hiccup wonder how he managed to live the first fifteen years of his life without Toothless and their ability to fly together as one.

Hiccup inhaled deeply and then breathed out again, the always present scent of the salty sea down below filling his nostrils. The wind combed through his hair and his clothes billowed. Toothless did the same thing, savouring the soft carressing of his scales and the near weightlessness of his body so high up in the air.

It felt good to be here. An unseen weight seemed to lift off their shoulders, like they were free again.

There were other dragons up there with them. Nightmares and Nadders who had also made Berk their home these past couple of years. It felt good to be more amongst them too. Off the ground and into the air, where they both belonged.

Hiccup adjusted his prosthetic slightly, approving of how it held up so far. Toothless raised a foreleg as he took a look, he purred.

"Yeah, it's holding up great so far!" Hiccup answered, feeling confident in his newest creation. This new method to connect his metal leg and the saddle together, it was to further improve their manoeuvrability. So far it wasn't too difficult to steer Toothless' artificial tailfin with it.

But they needed to really test it. Now that they knew it could hold up in a normal flight, it was time to find some way to experiment and truly see where its limits lie.

And Hiccup found just the thing.

"Hey Bud, look up there!" Toothless looked up and saw what his Rider was talking about.

A bunch of young Nadders, adolescents, playing in the sky. They were chasing each other.

"Should we ask them if we can join in?" Hiccup knew these Nadders and they knew them. He had watched them grow up this past year.

Toothless roared to draw their attention and flew higher, the small group of six halted momentarily to watch the two familiar Dragon Riders approach.

Nadders were born with lighter colours than they usually have as adults. They were slowly shedding their pastel scales for a more vibrant hide.

"Hey guys, mind if we join?" Hiccup wasn't so sure he'd have had the guts to just go up to a group of friends and ask this in the past, before Toothless. But not only had he grown more confident, these were also a group of dragons. A people he felt more at home with.

And like he and Toothless had hoped, the six adolescent Nadders chirped eagerly in agreement. One did a roll in the sky and off they were, chattering of teasings and taunts as they dared the two to chase them. It was a game of tag apparently.

"Come on, Bud." Hiccup adjusted himself in the saddle, excitement swelling up in his chest. A deep and eager rumble vibrated from within the Night Fury, Hiccup could feel it from his position on his back.

Though the young dragons flew far and fast, it wasn't hard for them to catch up.

This game of tag, while also commonly played by Viking children, was a little bit different than from what Hiccup used to play as a very young boy.

High up in the air, dragons couldn't physically touch one another without the risk of downing each other. The slowest of the dragons would be caught and roared at, making them the one who was "it". No actual tagging, just roaring as one dragon passed the other by.

It wasn't hard for Hiccup and Toothless to catch up to the Nadders and relieve themselves of the role of "it". Though they were fast, a Night Fury was faster. One half of this Dragon Rider duo being this exact species could almost be called cheating.

It was virtually impossible to catch Hiccup and Toothless with how in-tune the two were with each other. They sped up, slowed down, dived and swerved, but adolescent dragons liked a challenge. The young Nadders knew before accepting their request to join the game that they would be difficult to catch.

A roar of laughter left Hiccup as he and Toothless barrel rolled in the sky and it was like music to the latter's ears. Their hearts soared together. Those days spend stuck on the ground, even if it was for one of his projects, had been much too long.

Though the world was spinning, Hiccup looked towards where the Nadder youngster had been left behind and noticed there was already quite a bit of distance between them. Dizziness or nausea, he felt neither of them.

"Okay, Bud, time to turn back." Toothless could hear his Rider even through the loud rush of the wind. The barrel rolls gradually ceased up high in the air and the two started a freefall.

The way down was a long one, but it was over all too soon. Falling with the wind tossing them around, they never felt more in control.

As the ground rapidly approached down below, Hiccup gave his Bud a warning pat on his neck to even out.

That is when their game came to an abrupt end.

Toothless spread his wide wings, Hiccup put the tailfin in the right position and with the sudden stop in velocity, the shock made a tear in the leather straps keeping the saddle in place.

With a yelp, Hiccup was thrown forwards and the tailfin shut itself. The two were in a freefall once more, the adolescent Nadders aware of the trouble, but too far away to be of much help.

The ground was much too close.

"Tooth-" Hiccup never felt the impact. The moment they crashed, it became dark before his eyes.

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He wasn't sure how much time had passed, but Hiccup was pretty sure he couldn't have been out for more than a couple of minutes.

Lying in the grass, sore and bruised all over, he could hear his Night Fury's crooning as he drifted back to the world of the conscious after having left it for just a moment. Toothless' voice helped lead him back.

"Hmm, Tooth?" He slurred, moving just a tad to roll onto his back. He had been lying on his side and he wanted to open his eyes, face his Bud.

Toothless gave a quick warning growl and that was when a sharp pain abruptly and agonizingly ran through him, starting at his leg and moving up through his hip.

A strangled cry left him, his face contorted in pain and he ended up on his back anyway, breathing deeply as tears sprung to his eyes.

He opened them and the first thing he saw was Toothless staring back at him, his nose twitching as it did four years earlier when he woke up after the battle with the Red Death.

Toothless crooned and pressed his snout into his Rider's freckled cheek before bringing it down to sniff his body to seek out any hidden injuries. His attention consistently on just one part of Hiccup's body.

Hiccup lifted his head up to look down at himself to see what his dragon was staring at and cringed.

His left leg was not supposed to be at that angle.

His new prosthetic, the clasp that kept it attached to the saddle was supposed to have come loose during a fall, allowing Toothless to grab hold of him safely and saving them both from a possibly very fatal blow. That had been the biggest problem with his previous replacement, a problem he had attempted to fix with this new one.

Failing its purpose, Hiccup found that his leg and Toothless' saddle were still connected. As a result, his left knee, the weaker one of the two, had been painfully dislocated.

Hiccup continued to take deep breaths, both in and out. The pain didn't lessen one bit. He could only imagine what it looked like without his leather leggings.

It had already been there when he woke up, but it hadn't been as severe as it was now after he's moved. Toothless was lying next to him, remaining still because he'd realized the state of his Rider's leg while he was out and didn't want to make it any worse.

Lifting his head up for another look at their situation, still attempting to calm his laboured pants, Hiccup wondered just how they were going to get out of this one. Every little move made hurt so much.

But he found the reason for their crash. A strap on the saddle, the stitching worn by strain and weather had torn and come loose. He had been meaning to replace them.

"Gods..." He moaned and put his head back down. This was such a mess they were in now.

Toothless prodded his cheek with his snout. He wanted to provide comfort, but instead the movement made, though it was so little, hurt so bad.

"Toothless!" Hiccup cried out, but jumping at the pain only made the pain even worse. This was becoming an awful cycle.

Mumbling an apology, Toothless put his head down, deciding to try even harder to stay still. Humans didn't have as high a pain tolerance as dragons did and this was a particularly nasty injury.

Hiccup needed a moment. Closing his eyes, he tried breathing through the agony. So long as neither of them moved, it was bearable.

The two Dragon Riders than heard the chirping of worried dragons and looked up to see the young Nadders approaching.

The group of six landed and much like humans surrounded them in concern. Hiccup could've sworn he saw them cringe in their own way upon seeing the state he was in. Even they knew a human's leg wasn't supposed to bend that way.

Though he didn't want an audience, Hiccup supposed they might be able to help in some way. They chattered amongst themselves and Toothless, seemingly discussing what to do next.

"Hey-hey!" Hiccup moaned, moving carefully to lean on his elbows and trying his best not to look at his knee.

He could ask them to get help, to find the other Riders. He knew Astrid and Snotlout had patrol today.

But the adolescent Nadders apparently already had some ideas of their own. Chittering and screeching, hissing and flexing their dangerous spines, they appeared to be arguing. Hiccup's call for their attention fell on deaf ears.

Hiccup often found himself wishing he could understand what dragons were saying and this was one such time. What could they possibly be having such a heated discussion about?

By the time Hiccup realized one of them bend down and reached for his leg, it was already too late for both him and Toothless to stop them when a green Nadder took his prosthetic and pulled it loose. That had been their master plan to get the Dragon and Rider untangled from each other.

All six of the Deadly Nadders jumped back when a pained scream tore out from Hiccup's lungs. It appeared they hoped pulling on the fake part of the leg wouldn't hurt as much.

Now lying flat on his back again, Hiccup covered both of his eyes and clenched his teeth down on one another.

It hurt. That was all he could think about, how much that hurt.

Removing one hand, he peered at the Nadders through his blurred vision.

"I'm... I'm okay." He was lying and choking up, but he didn't want them to feel guilty. It helped the green Nadder feel better again as it had shrunken back after hearing him scream.

Now free, Toothless moved, standing up and sniffing his Rider's face, but Hiccup covered it again, breathing in and out deeply in the hopes of coping with the burning and throbbing sensation left in his knee.

The Night Fury gazed at the limb. Although the angle wasn't quite as ugly anymore, he knew that didn't lessen the pain in any way.

He faced the young Nadders and with a roar angrily chased them away, they had done more than enough already. The youngsters, not willing to argue with this dragon in particular, left in a hurry, nearly tripping over each other as they flapped their wings and made way for the skies.

"You didn't have to chase them away like that, they just wanted to help." Toothless could hear Hiccup mutter, but ignored his words. His Rider couldn't have heard it, but he had warned the six that it was a terrible idea.

Looking up into the sky, Toothless charged a plasma blast and send it flying. Its purpose was to call for help. With all the dragons and Berkians around, somebody was bound to see it. Hopefully, one of the other Riders was already nearby.

Knowing that it couldn't even be minutes before help would arrive, Toothless decided to settle by Hiccup's side again.

Though somewhat recovered, there was still very little Hiccup could do besides lying there and scratching his Night Fury's chin. It was something he did for his own comfort as well.

Help couldn't be far.

Holding his breath, Hiccup managed to sit up and Toothless lied down behind him, allowing his Viking to lean back against him.

Looking up, they noticed that one Snotlout Jorgenson on top of a Hookfang Monstrous Nightmare were already headed their way.

Hiccup could only sigh. The sooner they got his leg taken care off, the better.

His dad and Astrid would chastise him and Gothi would probably advice him to stay at home or risk a whack of her staff, but Hiccup could only think of one thing, improve his prosthetic.

Next time they test it out, he'd make sure to put it through more thorough tests before taking to the sky once again.

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darkdevasofdestruction · 6 years ago

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Chisaki, Aizawa, Shinsou with a Healer Fem!S/O who is wronged

Basically, I realised that a lot of my effort was for nothing because a teacher was incredibly mean with me and just did NOT want to pass me, and it made me feel horrible, so hey, why not write comfort stuff so I could feel better?

Chisaki Kai

“Your mark is 3, you failed, go study more and you’ll resit this exam in Summer.” I heard the teacher say with a taunting smirk, looking down at me, letting me to leave the examination room.

I was rooted to the spot, gaping at him like I was a retarded cat, but I just couldn’t understand where I went wrong? Everything I said was textbook-correct...HE wrote the textbook and drew all the sketches at courses...So why was what I said wrong? He said that everything I said was wrong...That it was false information... But how could it be false...If that’s what he taught us?

What...In the world...Is going on...?

With a robotic movement, I somehow got home, back to Chisaki’s basement, without even realising since my mind was still stuck on that moment.

I failed...

I’m a straight A+ student, a Doctor in training and for the first time, that’s what I hear...

How could I fail?

I’ve been studying for so long, with no breaks-

I’ve been drinking 6 coffees per day, lots of pepsi, ate lots of chocolate, just to stay awake this last week so I could study and study- I even went past all the panic attacks I had for the past days, just so I could study for this dissection exam-

Only to get asked 3 things, which I answered easily in the blink of an eye and to be told they’re all wrong and make no sense.

“S/O...S/O...What’s with you?...Answer already...” there was someone trying to get my attention, but all I could hear was an irritating voice that was trying to take me away from my thoughts, so I snapped at them, ready to burn them to crisps with my Fire Quirk.

“WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU WA-...Huh? Chisa...Ki? What the...Wait, when did I get here...?” I asked, completely shocked at what was going on, putting out the fire in my hand. “About 10 minutes ago. Why are you crying? Who do I have to kill?” he asked, fire igniting in his eyes. “I’m...Crying...? Mhh...I...I think I need to...Calm down for a bit...See you at dinner...Or somethin’...” I muttered, dragging myself to my room, turning off the blinds to make complete darkness, getting in bed, not even bothering to change into lighter clothes. Instead, I took off my lab coat and screamed in rage as I burnt it and allowed myself to sob myself to sleep, under the covers, my head full of self-depracating thoughts.

When I woke up, it was dark as hell and checking the time on my phone, I realise that in fact, it was midnight, but I’ve been sleeping for more than 24 hours and this was the farthest thing from normal, which made me panic and yelp in shock.

I never realised it before, but this week was so horrible for me since I stressed myself out beyond belief and compromised my health, but now I can feel the terrible headache and the stomach ache, and even worse, the beginning of a new panic attack.

This wasn’t normal...Not okay at all...And for what? For a failure?!

I was so absorbed in my thoughts, again, that I didn’t realise the door opened until a low voice called out my name, which made me jolt and turn to said person.

Again, it was Chisaki, with a tray in his hands.

“Do you need me for something? Files to sign or read? Hacking? A massage?” I asked out of habit, even though I was too exhausted to do either of them. “You idiot, what have you done to yourself? You look like you just woke up from your grave.” he asked, sitting on the bed, putting the tray in front of him. “I feel much worse than you described, but thanks for compliment.” I muttered, trying to laugh, but even for that I had no energy. “So who do I have to kill?” he said, taking off his beak mask. “Mhh...I don’t know, maybe me...I just get get where I went wrong?! I...I’ve been studying so hard...And I get a...A 3 as a grade? I fail with the lowest mark?! Like...Why? Because of some old geezer who looks down on me for being young and he says that everything I say is wrong, even though it’s textbook stuff? Like...What did I do wrong to deserve this, Kai?! Why me?!” I tried to say between sobs, my voice a complete mess, but not as worse than my face, probably. “Come here.” he commanded, to which I could only force myself to crawl next to him, but to my surprise, he...Hugged me. Chisaki Kai had his arms around me, petting my hair and just...Staying there.

“K-Kai...?” I whispered, still in shock. “Tell me his name, and he’s dead. I will not have my fiance have her health put at risk and suffer several panic attacks only to hear that she failed something she is perfect at. You’re going to become an official Doctor and the whole Underground world is going to beg to be treated by you. Now, tell me his name and I will make him suffer for his insolence. Nobody is allowed to treat my Queen with superiority.” he growled, clearly burning with rage, which made my heard skip a few beats, moved by his words. “Thank you, Kai...Thank you so much...I thought I was going insane from this injustice...It hurt so much...And to heart that I f-failed...Urgh...And...I honestly hate coffee, I don’t want to have to drink so much that I’m shaking from it...” I cringed at the memory, only holding him tighter, feeling warm and safe for the first time in a long time.

The whole night he just made sure that I ate properly and slept enough, creating a fixed schedule that he personally attended, to make sure I won’t ruing my health over something so petty, and yet, he also made sure no source of unnatural stress occurred again.

Thanks to that, he went to the teacher, made him change my mark to 100%, to match my other ones, then made the Shie Hassaikai stalk the teacher, made him paranoid, before they captured him and got him to the base, where Chisaki tortured him to death and I got to watch in satisfaction, feeling all the stress go away with each scream of agony, getting filled with complete satisfaction.

Now who failed, bitch?!

Aizawa Shouta

This was it, the most important time for both Aizawa-kun, myself and our friends, the exam day when we’ll finally become Pro-Heroes. Of course, because of our Quirk differences, he and Yamada-kun will be the fighters, while I will be the Healer, making sure everybody is okay. That’s how all good teams were made, for everyone needs a good support!

Giving them both a tight hug, I go, I take a deep breath and go to take my practical exam. I’ve taken several mock exams before, most of them with the sweet Recovery Lady who always helped and encouraged me, and everyone was sure I will pass with flying colours.

The problem was, that as soon as I entered the room, the whole atmosphere changed. Or rather said, the whole room was already filled with an incredibly menacing aura, one which shouldn’t really be around people who are supposed to HEAL others.

My examination lasted about less than 3 minutes altogether, hearing only mocks, jabs and taunts from the examiners, which only made me unable to say anything else in return, my mind blocking completely.

These people were supposed to be Pro-Heroes, people who were just, correct, forgiving and able to give others help and support... So... Why this...?

“Why did you even come here? To show us how you just slacked off and did nothing all years at U.A.? You’re just a lost cause, instead of you, another who truly wished to have a future could have had your place! Get out and only com here when you actually studied anything, otherwise you will never become a Hero, no less one who saves people!”

That’s what I was welcomed out of the room with, and I could only get the hell away from there and reach the closest bench, crying my soul out of desperation.

Where did I go wrong? What did I do? Why such hate?

I just couldn’t wrap my head around what the hell happened?

I didn’t even realise how shaken up I was until I hear someone call my name and I slowly turned my head to look at Aizawa who, despite now showing it, was happy. He definitely passed the exam.

“Congratulations for passing, Aizawa-kun! I knew you could do it, I’m sure you passed with no problems! That’s my Aizawa-kun!” I grinned at him, quickly wiping my tears and jump-hugging him. “What happened to you?” he asked bluntly, keeping me at arm-length, looking straight into my red eyes. “H-Hey, what do you mean? Forget about me! It’s time to celebrate your victory! Ah, I’m sure Yamada-kun passed to! Or should I start calling you Eraserhead and Present Mic, the new and cool Pro-Heroes?” I exclaimed, holding his hands tightly, trying to change the subject. “Tell me what happened. We can celebrate any time, but you’re upset now, not later.” he said firmly, not taking his eyes away from mine. “B-But I don’t wanna ruin your mood, I’d be the worst best friend and girlfriend anyone could have! I want you to be happy and to know that I, too, am happy and very proud of your achievements! So forget about the little things and let’s be happy!” I tried to hype him up, but he only shook his head and guided me back to the bench where he wrapped his arms around me and kissed the top of my head. “Don’t be stupid. Sure, I am happy about my achievement, but I can’t be happy knowing my girlfriend cried and I wasn’t there for her. Now, tell me what happened.” he said softly, stroking my hair the same way he would every time I’d need help calming down from a panic attack or sleeping, since I am an insomniac, which made me sigh and defeat and put my forehead on his shoulder, trying my best not to start crying again, and told him everything that happened. “Honestly...I don’t get it...Why such mean words...It was obvious they didn’t want to pass me from the second I got into that room...Like, a younger examiner called the older one, meekly telling him that I was there to be examined, and he snapped at her saying very rudely that I wasn’t tired of waiting or something...And then he just...Got there, looking very intimidating and radiating with superiority...He barely let me saying, most of the words spoken were just jabs at me...And after 3 minutes of that, he just kicked me out of there like I was nothing, saying that...Well...” by this point I was already trying not to let my voice break again, gripping Aizawa’s shirt tightly, which only made him hug me tighter, whispering soothing things into my ear. “Give me a day and I will see how I can solve this. Recovery Girl will be livid when she hears that, there’s no way she will allow her favourite student to be treated so bad.” he reassured me, tilting my face up so I could look at him, to know that he was serious. “Y-You...Think so...?” I whispered, tears forming at my eyes in hope. “That woman would overthrow the Government for you. You’re talented and worked extremely hard, she’s not going to let you be treated like that. You’ll see, don’t worry.” he let out an amused breath, before getting me to get up, wiping my tears with his handkerchief. “Thank you, Aizawa-kun...I’ve no idea what I’d do without your support and help, really...Hehe! Kinda silly...” I said, grinning sheepishly, scratching the back of my neck, when we heard the obnoxious yell of our friend. “Yooooooo! Guess who’s a new Pro-Hero! Oh yeah, this guy!” he laughed, smiling from ear to ear, hugging both me and Aizawa tightly. “Good job, Yamada-kun! I knew you could do it! Ah...! Or should I call you Present Mic from now on~?” I asked, smirking, teasing him and poking his cheeks, like I always used to when he’d get super excited. “Ohhhh yassss! That has such a nice ring to it! And now, we’re the perfect team! Present Mic, Eraserhead and-” he started saying, but was cut off by Aizawa, who looked at me, then with a proud side smile, he said my Hero name.

It had a god damn great ring to it when he said it.

To celebrate, we all went to a pub and had fun the whole night, drinking, playing games, gossiping and just enjoying each others’ existence, happy that, at least for tonight, there were no more worries, and I actually had a chance to become a Healer Hero without having to go through such ridicule again.

Thank you, Aizawa-kun, for always being there for me when I needed you. From now on, please, let me support you as well!

Shinsou Hitoshi

To be explained that I and Shinsou have been best friends since forever and that I always told him he’ll become an amazing Hero, especially with such a brilliant Quirk, is an understandment, because this lavender boi deserves all the love and support in the world.

Now, we’re both in U.A., him in class 1-C and I in class 1-A.

To be fair...It’s rather unfair, I think. It should have been him in the Hero class, not me. He worked much harder against the stigma, and he’s the one wanting to be a real Hero and to save people, not me.

I tried to talk to the higher-ups, but they didn’t allow this student transfer, unfortunately. Of course, he wasn’t jealous or upset about this, and just said he’ll work harder to earn a spot in either Hero classes, so all I could do was support him from now on as well.

He deserves it.

The problem was that by some people, my Quirk was seen as nothing but dull and boring, something so passive that shouldn’t have been in the Hero course, but in some other class where they allowed whimps.

I mean...That wouldn’t have been such a huge problem, if not for the fact that some people found out that my parents were villains and they started hating on me for that, as if I had any choice in that matter.

The only place where I didn’t hear jabs was in my own class, and to be fair, I was rather reserved, not wanting to leave the classroom unless absolutely necessary, or if I had to go home, so I won’t hear any of those things again.

Today again, I was waiting for Shinsou in front of the gate, so we could go home together, just as we always do, when a group of students go past me and start laughing. I try to ignore them and just hang my head, braiding a little tail on my hair and swinging my feet back and forth.

“Why the hell are you even here? You won’t become a hero, that’s for sure. Hell, maybe with some luck you can graduate, but who in their right minds would make a villain’s child a Hero? It’s clear you’ll betray us! And, really? Healing, that’s your power? How pathetic! Why don’t you crawl back under a rock or something?” one of them jabbed at me, but I only looked away. “I mean, you didn’t make it in any of the Hero classes. In fact, you’re from 1-K, Management or something. I don’t see you doing anything heroic, so why don’t you leave me alone?” I mutter, hoping they’d go away, but to my surprise, the one who spoke also got mad and took me by the neck of my shirt shirt, looking very angry. “Listen here, you nobody! If I ever see you around, I’m gonna beat the hell outta ya! Ya hear me?! I’m gonna show ya what people do to villains!” he started threatening, which made me gulp since honestly, I WAS training physically, but the fact that my Quirk was no help in that department wasn’t the best thing to think about. “Yo, dude, the hell are you doing there?” a voice called from somewhere, which made the guy harassing me reply with a curse, which in turn, got him blank-minded, letting go of me, then slapping himself repeatedly. “This should teach you not to bully others, you lowlife. Now leave, all of you.” looking up, I see that my saviour was Hitoshi himself, who looked pretty pissed off. “Hey...Sorry about that. I didn’t expect them to get physical...” I apologised, looking away. “Why are you apologising? It should be them who apologise to you.” he asked, tilting his head like a confused kitten. “You got through all that trouble to save me and even used your Quirk for that...I should have been able to fend them off myself.” I mutter, fumbling with my fingers. “I’m the offense and you’re the healer, I think that went pretty well. Healers are too rare and important in missions so they’ll never be in the front row either way. So...What’s the problem here?” he asked, trying to understand my weird behaviour. “You say that but...Maybe they’re right, in their own way. I mean...Who’d make a villain’s kid a Hero or something? No one’s gonna trust me...Especially for a task like saving people...And? A Healer Quirk in the Hero course? That’s just pathetic...You should have been the one in 1-A, not me. You have much more potential and deserve it, unlike me...” I muttered, looking away, but his response was a sigh and a flick on the forehead, which made me gasp in shock, not having had expected something like that to happen. “If I hear you saying that again, I will personally beat some sense into you. Honestly, what’s with you, anyways? You’re the one always saying I should trust in myself and my own abilities, so now you doubt yourself? And what for, over some brainless guys’ mean words? I’m gonna get in the Hero course and you better be there to wait for me, got it?” he replied firmly, his gorgeous eyes looking straight into my soul. “D-Damn...Shinsou-kun...You can be rather intimidating when you want to be...” I chuckle nervously, knowing I had no escape this and my words won’t be forgotten. “Look...I’m not the best at comforting...You’re much better and in-touch with emotions, so I’ll let you be the boss at that...But even so, stop comparing yourself to others. You are yourself and nobody can compete with that, got it? If you got into 1-A, that was with a reason and nobody can take that away from you. Now...Look at me and show me that smile I fell in love with.” he finished with a smile, his hand on my cheek, raising my face so I’d look at him. “You know I love you, right? You always say what I need to say...Thank you, Shinsou-kun.” I smiled softly, leaning into his touch. “Good. Now then, Aizawa-sensei gave me the weekend off, so I guess it’s date night. I’ll be over at yours by 7 or something. Gotta grab some snacks and video games, after all.” he smirked seeing how my eyes lit up in happiness, forgetting every bad thing that happened today. “R-Really? We didn’t have time for a date night in ages! Ahhh, so cool!! I love you, Shinsou-kun!” I replied in glee, jump-hugging him tightly, kissing his cheek before I hugged his arm so we could walk home. “Heh...Love you, S/O.” he said in a low voice, still smiling and blushing slightly.

Villain or Hero, neither of us cared anymore, it was just the two of us, cuddled in bed, playing video games, surrounded by various snacks and fizzy drinks, making jokes and having fun, like two ordinary teenagers with no worries about the world’s problems.

We are happy.

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draw-you-coward · 5 years ago

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hey everyone! i just wanted to both showcase my own progress and maybe give some hope to you artists out there who feel like their art doesn’t improve!

this is the first ever portrait i did, and the first drawing of ikael i ever did. looks completely unlike him, doesn’t it ? i was so ashamed of this it was the only artwork i never put on this blog! i did it on july 8, 2017. just about two years ago!

the second art i ever did of ikael! as you can see, it still looks absolutely nothing like the picture above! i had only his hairstyle really down - everything else was too unfamiliar. this is dated january 5, 2018 - a good half year had passed since i had attempted drawing him. it’s up to you guys which you think is objectively “better” loll

this one is dated january 8, 2018! now he’s looking a little familiar, isn’t he? i clearly learned a lot from my mistakes, and you can too! i HATED the one i did before this, guys. i absolutely despised it and i was so close to never drawing ikael again, but i did. and it turned out so much better! when you reach a point like this, please keep going! this is basically the backbone of how ikael looks now! i still use it as reference sometimes whoopsie

this is january 28th, 2018! i filled the page with these drawings, and u know what? it got easier to draw him after that. i got more confident. repetitive iteration practice gives confidence, even if you think the individual drawings are “bad”. it’s not about the individual drawings! remember, you’re always learning, always improving. as long as you seek to do that, you will, even if you don’t notice.

january 29th - the first portrait i ever did of ikael! reference this for later ;)

march 5th, 2018 - who is this smiling young miqo’te with signature big ears? an expression? open eyes? things are really coming together! this took me ages and i didn’t want to refine it beyond a basic sketch, but i’m so glad i did!

may 11, 2018 - quick comparison to how my non-painted portraits were looking! (this is the lovely @glyphenthusiast‘s woL, anemone, btw) i was in a work-heavy art program here and barely found the time to actually practice, but look at the improvement! ;;w;;

july 16, 2018 - this was for a follower milestone! my second ever attempted Full Portrait of ikael. i wimped out and closed his eyes, but i remember being super proud of this!

july 26, 2018 - guys i was SO proud of this one that it’s still my phone lockscreen. and you know what? i think that’s really really helped me love this art and not regret it like i used to do a lot. can i see the mistakes now? yes. do i still love it? surprisingly, yes! (fun fact: i drew and painted the greyscale as we were getting an assignment, immediately coloured it and made some bs excuse abt using it as my assignment cover, and turned it in some editing later! do you know how long it took me? less than 3 hours TOTAL. that’s amazing!)

october 2nd, 2018 - this was for inktober! that’s the only reason i even did it; i was NOT confident in my skills, or my ability to finish things. but look at the detail!

may 31, 2019 - finishing off with a pic of my dear y’shtola! i did a bunch of other ikael drawings/half/fullbodies, as well as a scattering of portraits that didn’t take me very long, but this was the last thing i put significant effort into! of course i still have a ways to go, but i’ve come really far!

you can check out my #my art and #sketch tags to see everything, but these images worked the best together! i’m not trying to boast or brag, but i am proud of how far i’ve come, even if some days i dont feel that at all. and i hope this helped at least someone have some hope or inspiration for themselves! <3

#long post

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pikapeppa · 6 years ago

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11 Questions Meme

I was tagged for this AGES ago by @lyrium-lovesong - thanks love! ❤️

Rules: answer the questions of the person who tagged you, come up with 11 new ones, and tag 11 new people.

I’m gonna be lazy and reuse @lyrium-lovesong‘s questions because I quite like them. Tagging back to @lyrium-lovesong, and forward to @schoute @essequamvideri20 @chillyrose @mistressdreadwolf @emileoutofit @littlesnowarrow @faerieavalon @aban-asaara @charlatron @alyssalenko @obvidalous and I think that’s more than 11 LOL

1. What did you want to be when you were a kid? Did that pan out?

I wanted to be an artist! Specifically a comic artist. Garfield, Calvin & Hobbes, Zits and For Better Or For Worse were my favourites. I used to draw little comics of stuff I wanted to happen (vacations I was looking forward to, boys I had crushes on LOL). I did that until I was in high school, actually. And no, that didn’t pan out. Now the only people whose eyes are assaulted by my shitty sketches are @schoute and @essequamvideri20 HAHAHAH.

2. What’s one regular self-care ritual you do for yourself that you treasure?

Errr... I guess yoga. I have an app on my phone and I try to do little routines (15-30 minutes) 5 days a week, because I’m an old lady with lower back pain and horrendous posture. The stretches actually really help.

3. If you could have one wish to grant purely for altruistic purposes (without worrying about any of those shitty “be careful what you wish for” gotcha scenarios that genies love to spring on you), what would you choose?

AHHH THIS IS A COLE QUESTION. Like “if you were Cole, what one thing would you do”. FUUUCK. Um. Okay, there’s a quote early in Inquisition when you’re talking to Cole and he describes what he does as finding the “pearl of pain” that people get knotted inside, and that he "shakes it loose. No pearl, no pain.” I feel like most people have that pearl that sits inside of them and catches other tangles of pain with it, and if I could, I wish I could find that pearl for some of my closest friends/family members and shake it loose so they could heal.

4. Favorite pizza topping combo?

Pesto chicken and goat cheese. Yum.

5. You have $500 to spend on yourself, but there’s a catch–it has to be on something totally frivolous. What do you buy?

A leather jacket. I’ve got a faux-leather one that I love but it’s falling apart (literally crumbling apart) and I’m very heartbroken about it.

6. What was the make and model of your first car, if you drive? How old were you when you got it?

n/a - I drive, but I’ve never owned a car.

7. You’re buying (or building!) your dream house, and money is no object. Describe your new home.

Oh shit oh shit. HAHA I feel like the fiance has clearer ideas about this than I do so my ideas are heavily influenced by his. Modern style; ideally a large condo rather than a house, actually. Big kitchen with an island in the center so people can sit with me while I cook, or so I can write in there while something is in the oven. Airy, bright, black and white and chrome furniture (for the fiance) with colourful and cozy blankets and cushions for me.

8. What’s your favorite smell?

The smell of our bed? It smells like scented body lotion and nice clean sleepy bodies. IS THAT TMI???

Otherwise, lilacs.

9. Describe your earliest memory.

This is by no means the earliest, but one of my MOST MEMORABLE early childhood memories was being present in the hospital room when my younger sister was being born. I was 6. My mom was screaming. I don’t know why the fuck my parents wanted me and my older brother to be there HAHAHAHAHAH. I’m by no means traumatized or anything but DO I EVER REMEMBER THAT.

10. You just found out you have a year left to live. What’s on your bucket list?

Finishing my Fenquisition fic. Writing at least as much of Where The Winds Of Fortune Take Me that Piperford and FenRynne get together. Eloping in Iceland with my fiance.

11. Share a photo you have saved on your computer or phone that you love. What is it about this image that brings you joy?

Okay, this is a sappy one. It’s this super-quick Fenris/Rynne Hawke sketch that @schoute drew for me at the beginning of February this year.

At the time she sent me this sketch, I was in Florida in the ICU with my grandmother who had just had a stroke a couple weeks before and was actively dying of complications from the stroke. I spent two nights in the ICU with my grandmother because none of us wanted her to be alone, and I spent a lot of that time writing the last chapter of Tantrum and a Know-It-All Grin on my phone and blabbing to Scouty about anything that was NOT my grandmother because DISTRACTIONS ARE BAE lol. And then out of the blue she sent me this FenRynne sketch and she was just like “HERE TO CHEER YOU UP” and BOY HOWDY DID I ALMOST LOSE MY SHIT. This was the first FenRynne art anyone made for me and it was the best thing to cheer me the fuck up and also give me all the feels. Basically this sketch is both ADORABLE as hell and also basically the definition of friendship? Soooo there you go, have some feelings!

ANYWAYYYYYY LOOKING FORWARD TO EVERYONE ELSE’S ANSWERS HEY ❤️

#personal #tag meme #tumblr game #pikapeppa reflects #ask me anything

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pocket-luv101 · 6 years ago

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Moondust on the Titanic ‖ Chapter 2

Fandom: Servamp Pairings: KuroMahi, LawLicht (side) Characters: Kuro, Mahiru, Hyde, Licht, Tsurugi

Summary: Mahiru meets Kuro on the ship of dreams, the Titanic. (Titanic AU, Fem Mahiru) This AU is actually something I discussed with @damucochan. It turned out way longer than I thought it would so i split it up into parts.

Ch.1 // (Ch.2) // Ch.3 // Ch.4

Kuro felt the sun beaming on his face as he sat on a bench. The deck for third class was crowded but he found a lonely bench. He stared at the ocean that stretched for miles. His sketchbook sat on his lap but he was struggling to find something to draw. Brown eyes played on his mind and he thought of Mahiru. She had an expressive face. He pictured the smile she had as she talked with Licht and the longing she had last night. Kuro wondered what caused the loneliness he saw.

He turned his focus back to his sketchbook and reminded himself that it was best not to pry in her life. It was unlikely they would meet again after the dinner party. They lived in two different worlds, after all. He picked up his pencil and started to sketch a white cat. Kuro didn’t have much but he wanted to provide for his family with the skills he did have.

The light changed and Kuro looked up from his sketchbook. Mahiru stood before him with a sunny smile. He was surprised to see her in third class. She nodded towards the empty spot next to him and said, “May I sit and talk? I want to thank you again for last night. But, if you’re working, I don’t want to be a bother. I can come back later.”

“I don’t really have command over where people sit.” He shrugged. Kuro shifted on the bench to make more room for her and the silent invitation made her face beam. She didn’t hesitate to sit next to him. He patted his pocket where he kept the gloves she sent him last night. “Thanks for the gloves. You didn’t need to buy them for me.”

“It was my pleasure. I should apologize for my family’s behaviour. It was rude and unnecessary when you’ve done nothing wrong. I caused you a lot of trouble and you had to lie on my behalf too.” She bowed her head slightly. “Thank you for listening to me last night. Do the gloves fit you, Kuro?”

“They’re a perfect fit.” He slipped on the gloves to show her. She smiled when she saw him wear the gift she bought him. He had to note, “Your family allowed you to go into third class alone? If my sister was attacked, I would have someone escort her for her protection. Then again, Wrath is strong and she doesn’t need us to do that.”

“I sneaked away from my grandmother to talk to you.” Mahiru admitted. “My cousin is distracting her right now. I don’t know how I’ll repay her for that since my grandmother can be rather… difficult. Licht specifically told me she would only tolerate our grandmother for an hour. I’ll have to return before then. I can only imagine the fight they’ll have if I’m not there to stop them.”

“Between your controlling grandma and possessive fiancé, I’m surprise you can leave your room.” Kuro remembered the man he briefly met last night.

“That man was not my fiancé.” Mahiru was quick to correct him. He noticed how her body stiffened and her brows knit. It was clear that the man made her uncomfortable. “My grandmother is trying to pressure me into a marriage with him. I only met him yesterday and the last thing I would call him is charming. I don’t want to be his wife and be trapped in a life he chooses for me.”

“What is your dream?” It was a common question to Kuro but a rare one for Mahiru. Only four people in her life had ever asked her that: her mother, her uncle, Tsurugi and Licht. Everyone else had already decided her life for her. Mahiru worried that Kuro would laugh at her if she told him the truth. Then again, he didn’t judge her when she told him about catching moondust.

“I love art but I can’t draw or paint very well. When I visited a museum, I thought of something else I can do with my passion for art. I want to open a gallery and highlight artists. People can buy the artwork so the artist can make a living as well. Are you an artist, Kuro?” Mahiru saw him drawing earlier so she already knew the answer. “May I see what you’re sketching?”

“It’s nothing much.” Kuro insisted. She didn’t ask him again but he could see how curious she was. Her eyes begged him to show her the sketchbook even though she didn’t say a word. Did she know that she wore her emotions so openly? Her brown eyes tugged on his heart and he found himself placing his sketchbook on her lap. “People didn’t think much of them in Paris so you might not either.”

“Maybe you haven’t found your audience yet. If you’re a cartoonist, you should approach newspapers or children books for commissions.” She said as encouragement. Mahiru opened the sketchbook and she gasped softly. His art was breathtaking. The cat was half finished but she admired the small detail in the fur and the subtle shading. She was almost afraid to touch it and smudge the charcoal.

“This is beautiful, Kuro! You’re a talented artist,” Mahiru turned the page to look at his other sketches. “The lines are crisp. If you ever decide to hang this, make sure you place a light right above it so it’ll highlight your linework. For this next one, you don’t have a lot of white space. It’ll help this piece have contrast since you’re working with charcoal.”

“You’re very knowledgeable.” The compliment made Mahiru blush. He didn’t seem to notice though. She flipped through the sketchbook and suggested a few frame colours. She didn’t realize that she was leaning closer to him as they talked. Mahiru felt his breath brush over her cheek as he asked, “Is that why you’re going to America? To start your art studio?”

“I don’t know anymore.” Mahiru sighed. She wasn’t free to make her own choices. Her grandmother had strict expectations of her and she made Mahiru feel selfish whenever she argued. “I wrote to my uncle about my business plan for an art studio but all that work is going to waste now. My arranged marriage will force me to move west. Kazuma made it clear he disapproves of my goal.”

“It’s 1912. I thought arranged marriages became out of fashioned a hundred years ago.” Mahiru shrugged in response but she had a sad smile. Her expression tugged on his heart but he didn’t know what he could say to her. “Your uncle seem has an open mind since you’re able to talk to him about your studio. Maybe he can help you break the engagement.”

“Uncle Toru is one of the few people I can be myself around. He travels for work so I don’t see him often. He collects artwork. I think he’ll like yours.” She turned the page and the image made her face become red. It was a naked woman. Kuro quickly turned to another sketch that was more appropriate. Mahiru couldn’t face him when she asked, “Do you draw… portraits often?”

“I draw people with more clothes. In Paris, women would ask me to draw these for their lovers. A few didn’t pay me so I kept the sketches.” He assured her. Kuro didn’t know why he was so conscious of what she thought of him. He showed her a sketch of a chef. “This man loved to cook. His apron would have a million different stains on it by the end of the day. And this woman…”

“You have a gift, Kuro. You see these small details about people and capture it in your art.” She said after he told her about a few more portraits he had. She felt like she knew the people he drew from his art. Before she could stop herself, she whispered her thoughts. “How would you draw me, I wonder.”

“A mermaid who explores the ocean and collects moondust in her jar.” His answer made her look back to him. Their eyes met and Mahiru felt her stomach flutter. It felt like he saw the person she had to hide because of her family’s name. She wished she was free like the mermaid he described. Mahiru returned to the white cat he was drawing earlier.

“When you finish this, please show it to me. I’m certain it will turn out wonderful. Did you teach yourself how to draw or did you have someone to help you?” They talked about their lives before the Titanic and Mahiru was captivated by Kuro’s stories. His dry humour made her laugh and she found she could relax while she talked with him.

Their conversation ended all too soon for Mahiru. She heard her brother’s voice above her and she looked up. Her brother, Tsurugi, was leaning over the rail. “Mahiru, grandmother and Licht got into a debate about women performing on stage. I think you should stop them before one of them throws the other overboard. Our family has good swimmers but I doubt we’ll last long in that cold water.”

“I should’ve known an hour was too much to ask of Licht. She’s as stubborn as she is talented.” Mahiru actually admired how outspoken her cousin was. She stood and handed Kuro’s sketchbook back to him. “It was great to talk to you again, Kuro. I’ll see you at dinner.”

Even as she left, Mahiru couldn’t take her eyes off Kuro. He was handsome with the light beaming over him. The breeze played with his shaggy hair and he struggled to keep it in place. She waved to him and he did the same. She forced herself to turn away and walked to first class. Mahiru wished she could’ve had five more minutes with Kuro or listen to another of his tales.

Kuro returned to his sketchbook to make another drawing. A few coins fell onto the page and he picked them up. He was confused and he looked up to see who dropped them. He saw that Tsurugi hadn’t left yet. “Sorry, I dropped that. Can you come up here and give it back to me? Find your brother before you come up and bring him with you.”

“Troublesome.” Kuro muttered. He hoped that Tsurugi wasn’t an overprotective brother who intended to fight him for talking with Mahiru. He decided that it was best to return his money and quickly escape whatever the man had planned.

“Well, he’s not murdering us like you thought he was going to. I don’t know if this is much better.” Hyde whispered to his brother. He adjusted the tie around his neck and he tried to make it more comfortable. Tsurugi took the two back to his room and gave them each a suit to wear to the party. “This guy is weird. Who gives two strangers their clothes?”

“That’s not a kind thing to say when I’m trying to help you two. You’re going into a dinner party with sharks. They’ll tear you apart if you attend the dinner in your regular clothes.” Tsurugi came out of the walk-in closet with a suit for Kuro. He handed it to him and said, “You slouch. Remember to sit straight when you’re at the table.”

“You haven’t told us why you’re giving us your clothes and all this advice.” Kuro pointed out. Tsurugi seemed like a decent person but he had to protect Hyde. He was wary that the man would use the suits to blackmail him and his brother later. “From experience, people rarely give out of the kindness of their hearts. What do you want in return for these suits?”

“I’m giving these to you because I want to thank you. It has been a long time since I’ve seen Mahiru laugh freely. Her mother died when she was a teenager and she went to live with our grandmother in the city. Licht and I were rarely allowed to visit her because grandma didn’t want our bad behaviour to influence her.” Tsurugi sat down and glanced at the family portrait leaning against the wall. “She told me what really happened last night. You made her smile again.”

“Wait, did Licht mention me?” Hyde interrupted him with an eager smile. “Did she tell you what she thought of me when we bumped into each other?”

“Nope.” Tsurugi lied and chuckled at his reaction. “If you give me twenty dollars, I’ll tell you how to impress an angel.”

Kuro stood at the bottom of the stairs and he tried to recall everything Tsurugi told him about proper manners. The endless chatter around him made it difficult to think and he groaned to himself. He didn’t like crowds because it made him uncomfortable. His brother was already mingling with the other guests. Hyde was a talented actor so he was able to blend in easily.

Kuro didn’t know why he felt so nervous. At first, he only intended to dine with the family so his brother would have a chance to speak with the woman he liked. He shouldn’t care about his appearance or what others thought of him. But he couldn’t deny that there were small butterflies in his stomach. A motion at the top of the stairs caught his attention and he looked towards it.

His eyes fell onto Mahiru and the world became silent around him. She captured his attention and he couldn’t look away as she floated down the stairs. The green dress she wore was simple but it complimented her well. There was a rosy glow in her cheeks when she stopped in front of him. “Good evening, Kuro. You look handsome in that suit.”

“You do too. Wait, you’re not wearing a suit. I meant to say you look beautiful in your dress.” Kuro was flustered and he stumbled over his words. She smiled softly at him and the sight helped calm him. He stood a little straighter and thought of the advice Tsurugi gave him. Gently, he took her hand and kissed her fingertips. “Your brother said I should kiss your hand.”

“Everything is going to be fine, Kuro. You only need to relax and be yourself. The others will have questions for you but I’ll help you navigate around the sharks. I have a lot of experience.” Mahiru could see that he was nervous and she wanted to reassure him. She lightly placed her hand in the crook of his arm. He felt warmth spread from her hand. “May you please escort me to dinner?”

“Your wish is my command, my lady.” They walked to the dinner table. Mahiru would occasionally point out prominent passengers to him and told him what to say to them. He didn’t know how she was able to remember so many names or navigate through the crowd. Kuro felt more comfortable with Mahiru beside him. She had a warm personality that drew him to her.

They reached the dining hall and Mahiru slipped her hand from Kuro’s arm. She was ushered to a chair between Licht and her grandmother. Mahiru was pleasantly surprised when Kuro took the time to pull out the chair for her. She beamed up at him and thanked him. Like a gentleman, Kuro bowed to her before he went to sit with his brother.

Her attention was only pulled away from Kuro when Licht poked her lightly. She leaned towards Mahiru and whispered, “Hyde looks like he’s from The Phantom of the Opera but without the mask. He’s a strange demon. He quotes Shakespeare and dresses like a gothic novel.”

“They are handsome in a suit.” Mahiru agreed and she felt a little giddy when she glanced to Kuro. A sharp pinch from her grandmother jerked her back to the small world of the dining table. She adjusted her position and laid a napkin on her lap.

In the corner of his eyes, she noticed Kuro staring at the spoons as if they were strange tools. She clicked her spoon against her plate to draw his attention to her. Mahiru pointed to the soup spoon and he gave her a thankful smile. They were able to communicate even though they didn’t exchange a word. Idle chatter circled the table but Kuro only half listened to the conversation.

Mahiru spoke to architect at the head of the table. “The Titanic is a brilliant ship, Mr. Andrews. It is truly worthy of the title ‘The Ship of Dreams’. I never imagined a ship could carry so many people. I do have a question though. While I was taking a tour of the ship, I noticed the lifeboats lining the upper deck. There were only twenty. That can’t be enough when there’s over two thousand passengers. Are there more—”

“There’s no use for lifeboats on an unsinkable ship.” Kazuma cut her off. The resignation on Mahiru’s face told Kuro that she was accustomed to his behaviour. “They already take up too much deck space.”

“Mahiru brings up a good point.” Kuro spoke for the first time at the dinner. He intended to let Hyde answer most of the questions about them. Yet, he had to defend Mahiru when Kazuma tried to brush her worry aside. “Mr. Andrews, can you tell us more about the ship you designed?”

“You needn’t worry about anything, Mahiru. The Titanic has state of the art safety features. The only thing you need to focus on is finding a husband.” The conversation turned to the first class accommodations. Kuro returned to his food and cut his steak. He didn’t think he would join the conversation again. Hyde told the table about his plan to become a famous actor.

“Do you have the same dream of fame, Kuro?” Mahiru drew him back into the conversation with her enchanting voice. She turned to Tsurugi and told him, “Kuro is a wonderful artist. I had the pleasure of seeing a few of the work this afternoon. I’m sure you will make a big splash in America.”

“I like art but fame isn’t what I’m after. My dream is simple. I want to sell my art and give my family a long, happy life. Once Hyde and I make enough money, we will bring our siblings to America.” Kuro told her. She thought his dream reflected how kind he was. “You can never know what the next day will bring. There’s a lot of things we don’t have control over. The only thing I can do is pursue that dream for my family.”

“You’re a good man, Kuro.” Mahiru raised her glass towards him to make a toast. “To pursuing our dreams.”

“That was a wonderful dinner, Angel Cakes. Thank you for inviting us. I have to go but I hope I get to see you later.” Hyde lifted Licht’s hand to his lips. He had a secretive smile as he stepped back from her. The dinner was over and they had to leave the first class dining hall. Everyone started to go their separate ways and return to their cabins for the night.

Mahiru started to stand as well but she noticed Licht unfold a note. She guessed that Hyde had slipped it to her when he kissed her hand. She wondered what it could say to make Licht grin so wide. Licht jumped to her feet and grabbed Mahiru’s arm. She took Tsurugi’s arm as well and pulled him towards the door. The three huddled close together as they walked so Licht could show them a note.

“We’re invited to a party where we can actually dance. Let’s go.” On the secret note was a small map with directions to the lower deck. Licht followed the directions and lead them out of first class. They made their way down the hall and climbed down the stairs to third class. Mahiru could already hear music drifting through the hall.

Ahead of them, Hyde was standing at the entrance to the third class’s lobby. There was a twinkle in his eyes when he opened the door for them. “I’m glad you found your way here safely, Angel Cakes.”

“I was promised a real party. You have best deliver, Demon.” Licht’s voice was a subtle challenge that Hyde was all too eager to accept.

Mahiru peered into the room and saw that the passengers were dancing, drinking and laughing. She pushed aside any lingering uncertainty and entered the lobby with her family. The atmosphere was merry and everyone seemed to be having fun. Despite how crowded it was, Mahiru spotted Kuro sitting at a table and she approached him.

Kuro must’ve been surprised to see her because he almost dropped his drink when she tapped his shoulder. She quickly caught the drink before it could hit the ground. Unfortunately, the water he was drinking spilled onto her lap. Mahiru apologized and took out a napkin to dab against the stain. “I’m sorry for surprising you, Kuro. Did Hyde not tell you he planned to invite us?”

“No. My brother’s unpredictable so he likely thought to invite you three last minute.” The music was loud so they had to yell so the other could hear them. Kuro gently took her hand and told her, “You don’t need to do that, Mahiru. I can dry myself.”

“Oh!” She blushed when she realized that she had been rubbing the napkin against his leg. She handed the cloth to him and she was glad he didn’t comment on it further.

There wasn’t a free chair so Kuro stood and offered her the seat he was using. She sat down and looked around the room. Her eyes fell onto Kuro and she saw that he had taken off his suit jacket and tie. While he was handsome in the suit, she thought he looked best when he was relaxed. She tugged on his sleeve and then patted the chair. “There’s enough room for both of us. Sit, Kuro.”

“Hey, Kuro,” Tsurugi called his name at the same time Mahiru did. “I’m going to play poker with those gentlemen. Take care of my sister while I’m gone.”

“Don’t get too greedy, Tsurugi.” Mahiru called after him and laughed. She turned back to Kuro and gestured for him to sit next to her. He shook his head and leaned against the table. She turned back to the party and watched the passengers dance. She swayed in time with the music and clapped happily. “Everyone is lively here. I didn’t think you would join such a party, Kuro. You seem like an introvert.”

“I prefer a quiet night over this party. Hyde said he wanted to go to this party and I came to keep him out of trouble. If he gets drunk, it’s my job to help him back to our cabin. He’s so troublesome. But he’s my little brother.” He would jokingly complain but he loved his brother and wanted to see him happy. Kuro watched his brother dance with Licht. “They seem to be having fun.”

“Would you like to dance too?” Mahiru asked him and stood. Once again, her vibrant eyes compelled him to agree. She led him to the center of the room and faced him. She held both of his hands in hers and swung them between their bodies. Though she was the one who asked him to dance, she had to admit, “I’m not familiar with this style of dance.”

“I think this is closer to drunkenly spinning rather than an actual style.” His observation made Mahiru relax into laughter. She didn’t need to worry about the proper steps of a dance.

Kuro lifted her hand above her head and turned her in a circle. They came together again and he wrapped one arm around her waist. She was surprised by how strong his arms were because Kuro was an artist. Yet, they were also light and gentle as he led her through the dance. Together, they circled the room with little care for the rhythm or steps.

Mahiru couldn’t remember the last time she had so much fun dancing. They accidentally bump into another dancer and Kuro held her closer. Mahiru smiled up at him and they continued to dance freely. Time flew by as the song sped up. They spun in a circle until they were both dizzy but neither of them minded. She placed her hand on his shoulder to keep her balance.

“That was fun.” She said when the song drifted to a close. She laughed and her face brightened as she smiled up at him. Mahiru was still a little lightheaded so she leaned against Kuro. He helped her to where her brother was playing cards. Tsurugi handed her a drink and Mahiru took a sip.

On the other hand, Licht chugged the beer and slammed it on the table. She smirked at Hyde who couldn’t hide his shock. “You big, burly men think a first class lady can’t drink. Let’s show them what we can do, Mahiru! Twenty fouettes! Someone give me a piano.”

“I think you’re drunk, Licht! I’m not dressed for ballet either.” Mahiru told her but she merely waved away her worry. She was never able to handle her drink well. Licht hooked her arm around Mahiru’s and took her to a large table in the center of the room. She urged Mahiru onto it. Then she stumbled to the band and forced the man playing the piano out of his seat.

Even as Licht started to play the ballet song, Mahiru was hesitant to dance by herself. She noticed Kuro move to stand next to the table. He held out his hand to her and told her, “You don’t need to do anything you don’t want to. I’ll help you down.”

“I love to dance. Will you stay there and catch me if I fall though?” He nodded at her request and she stood in the middle of the table. Mahiru’s long dress was loose enough for her to make the turn without her worrying that it would fly upwards. She made a few fouette turns in a row and she spun faster as Licht’s song sped up.

Kuro didn’t know much about ballet but he could see the control Mahiru had as she turned. She made it appear effortless though. Mahiru held him captivated. He noticed the moment she started to stumble. She tried to stop gracefully but the combination of beer and her dizziness made it difficult. Mahiru’s foot slipped on the table but Kuro was there to catch her.

She fell against his chest and felt his strong arms wrap around her. He looked down worriedly at her but she cupped his face. “That was fun. I haven’t danced like that since I was a little girl.”

“Do you want to dance again?” He asked and she eagerly nodded.

#servamp #kuromahi #sloth pair #mahiru shirota #servamp kuro #fem mahiru #lawlicht #greed pair #licht jekylland todoroki #servamp hyde #fem licht #tsurugi kamiya #fanfiction

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dxmedstudent · 6 years ago

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Weird Asks that Say a Lot Meme...

My friend the wonderful @meanwhileonwednesday suggested I fill out Every even number for the 'weird asks that say a lot', so here I am. Thanks, friend! XD

2. chocolate bars or lollipops?

Chocolates.

4. how did your elementary school teachers describe you?

At my first school? Artistically talented and perceptive (one teacher was very vividly impressed by my grasp of duck anatomy at like 5 years old). Then there’s the teacher at my new school who thought I had special needs because I was withdrawn (I was being bullied by most of the class, really); she was a new teacher and not really equipped to deal with that. By the end of primary school, I went back to being commended on my work ethic and smarts and artistic ability.

6. pastel, boho, tomboy, preppy, goth, grunge, formal or sportswear?

Hmmm I think my work clothes are mostly a formal/preppy mix. With a little bit of boho thrown in, particularly when I’m at home.

8. movies or tv shows?

I prefer movies, because they represent a lot less commitment (America, please stop giving everything like 17 seasons, I beg of you!), however TV show episodes are shorter and easier to slot into your life than a full movie.

10. game you were best at in p.e.?

I was generally awful in PE. I liked benchball, can’t say that I was good in it, being yet another game where being short doesn’t do you any favours.

12. name of your favorite playlist?

Either my Kickass playlist, or my Reflective playlist.

14. favorite non-chocolate candy?

Starburst.

16. most comfortable position to sit in?

Curled up, on my side, in a nice big armchair with my legs hanging off the side. Surrounded by pillows, and probably a cat or two.

18. ideal weather?

Picture this: it’s a sunny day; warm but not too hot. Maybe around 24 degrees celsius. There’s a warm breeze; it’s not stifling, and it’s not cold enough to make you shiver. The trees rustle with the sound of the wind; change is in the air. You can go out in short sleeves, perhaps with the thinnest of cardigans if like me your metabolism basically died 300 years ago.

20. preferred place to write (i.e., in a note book, on your laptop, sketchpad, post-it notes, etc.)?

Depends on what I’m writing. I am the kind of ineffectual person who starts to write tings in a notebook, but also a couple of word docs. I have post- it notes for important things. I document ideas for my comic in a note/sketch book. I love doodling in my sketchbooks.

22. role model?

I never really had one, growing up. I guess the closest I’d get is David Attenborough.

24. favorite crystal?

My birthstone is ruby (which is red; my favourite colour!) however I also love opals; I love their irdescent (OK, opalescent, technically) sparkliness and the way they shimmer with lots of colours. I don’t see why everyone prefers massive diamonds when opals are like... so much cooler. I I don’t actually own any, but maybe one day I’ll be able to buy myself a nice one.

26. favorite activity to do in warm weather?

Go for a nice long walk, take lots of pictures, have a picnic in the park. No, I lie, my favourite activity is roping someone I care about into doing it all with me, and having even more fun.

28. five songs to describe you?

Home - Ellie Goulding Fight Song - Rachel Platten Working Woman’s Blues - Valerie June Alive - Bird Set Free My Medea - Vienna Teng

30. places that you find sacred?

Already been answered.

32. top five favorite vines?

Alas, hard to name off the top of my head. I mainly know vines from various compilations.

34. advertisements you have stuck in your head?

Right now? Thankfully none of them.

36. what is the first meme you remember ever seeing?

That’s impossible to say! Memes were a thing before internet memes became a thing. I’d say that ‘S’ shape we all drew in primary school? Nursery rhymes? Who knows.

38. lemonade or tea?

They don’t usually compete for my love, but i have tea more often than lemonade, purely due to availability reasons.

40. weirdest thing to ever happen at your school?

Some students climbed onto the roof.

42. jacket pockets or pants pockets?

Honestly? Skirt pockets. But being a woman, jacket pockets are usually woefully ineffectual and small. Trouser pockets are a bit better, but again usually small. Whereas if someone puts pockets on a skirt, they make sure they are actually proper pockets!

44. favorite scent for soap?

Maybe honey, or roses, or jasmine.

46. most comfortable outfit to sleep in?

A baggy pair of PJs; I’m a dress for comfort kind of girl. Particularly since the places I’ve lived haven’t always been great in the heating department. I’ve been known to sleep in a hoodie when it gets cold.

48. if you were a fruit, what kind would you be?

I would like to be a berry, or maybe an apple. Something pinkish red. Sweet, and a little sharp.

50. what made you laugh the hardest you ever have?

Probably my little brother astounding me with how grown-up he is about things. He’s pretty awesome. Or my mum just saying something wildly, hilariously inappropriate XD

52. favorite font?

I love the Komika font family for my comic. I used to use Bookman Old Style, Book Antiqa, Georgia or classic Arial for essays and things like that, when they didn’t specify Times New Roman.

54. what did you learn from your first job?

Always call the med reg if you are stuck, be nice to the nurses and always help each other. OK, I did lots of volunteering in hospital before FY1. In which case my

56. favorite tradition?

My family/culture have a specific tradition on the morning of an exam/interview/life event where you fill a cup with water and a couple of plant leaves (Slavs love putting greenery into everything). You place it at the threshold, and give it a good kick it with your dominant foot. It symbolises your knowledge flowing, and I guess it’s a good luck charm.. You also aren’t meant to look back (literally); because you should be focusing on the task at hand. As a kid it was a comforting good luck ritual, and I don’t think I ever really grew out of it.

58. four talents you’re proud of having?

I’m proud of my artistic skills, modest though they are. I enjoy creating, and I enjoy that I can make things to cheer up my friends, or things that people here can relate to.

By extension, I’m good with my hands, and that usually translates to picking up procedures and things like that pretty quickly at work. And yes, I love being able to get that cannula in (especially if it’s on the first go!) when nobody else can. It’s a tiny, tiny thing, but it sparks a little joy. I can develop good rapports with people; which means I can help them to confide their problems, and can help them to feel better or to address things that are bothering them. It’s really mostly about listening and not being judgemental. I am proud that I can sometimes make people feel better, and feel listened to. I’m proud that I learned to try to work through my feelings. As a young person who was really quite stressed, I somehow learned how to apply what’s basically CBT to keep myself relatively sane, and I think it’s helped me a lot. It was only much later that I realised it was basically CBT when I was comparing notes with friends actually going through those kinds of therapies. I’m not perfect at it, and my mind tests me on a regular basis, but it helps.

60. if you were a character in an anime, what kind of anime would you want it to be?

I don’t know what I’d like to be in? Maybe a Ghibli film. I think I’d like that. When I was at school, a close friend of mine just turned around and said “OMG, you’re just like an anime character”, to fervent agreement from my peers. I guess they meant one of those chirpy, ditzy shojo anime characters. I can still see myself as some shojo series heroine; frantically trying to keep it together under the pressures of magical girldom, being romantically inept, trying to fight off the baddie of the week whilst learning lessons about getting along with each other, being helpful and not being mean.

62. seven characters you relate to?

Right now? Sophie from Howl’s moving castle, Princess Carolyn from Bojack Horseman, Miranda Otto from D. Gray-Man, Elinor Dashwood from Sense and Sensibility, The Red Blood Cell from Cells at Work, Kiki from Kiki’s delivery service, and Aggressive Retsuko.

64. favorite website from your childhood?

I used to love looking at other people’s art on Elfwood or Deviantart.

66. favorite flower(s)?

Today I’m feeling the answer is lilacs.

68. worst flavor of any food or drink you’ve ever tried?

Ugh anything bitter.

70. left or right handed?

I’m ridiculously right handed, but I’ve learned to use my left hand more effectively because of procedures etc. I’m really good with my hands, but my right hand takes over like 80% of the work.

72. worst subject?

PE in school, biochemistry at university.

74. at what pain level out of ten (1 through 10) do you have to be at before you take an advil or ibuprofen?

At home, maybe a 3, because I don’t see the point in suffering needlessly. However at work I’ll do whatever it takes to keep functional including taking pain relief before it gets bad because I don’t want to have to deal with pain and an on-call. I’m not sure if the scale is logarithmic? I’d rate the worst pain that I’ve had 5 ot a 6, and that made me vomit and curl up into a ball and basically unable to do anything. But I can imagine pain that’s much, much worse than that was, so perhaps I just can’t thin

76. what’s your favorite potato food (i.e. tater tots, baked potatoes, fries, chips, etc.)?

This kind of new potato salad my mum makes with onions. Raw onions are totally a trigger food for my IBS, and any time my mum feeds me anything full of onions, she’ll tell me I can take them out if they upset my tummy. And every single time I’ll pile even more onions into my plate because there’s no way I’m letting my gut dictate my life. Turns out, I’m even more stubborn than my IBS; I just don’t want to give up some of the foods that set things off. My GP once recommended a FODMAP diet, and having had a look at all the stuff I’d have to cut, I resolved I’d only start cutting things if my symptoms got really bad.

78. coffee from a gas station or sushi from a grocery store?

Honestly, I have no pretentions to snobbery. The best coffee is the one you get when you are about to collapse on a night shift, even if much, much better coffee exists in the world. And the best sushi is the plain supermarket one you get between on-calls to treat yourself, even if the one from a good restaurat is so much nicer.

80. earth tones or jewel tones?

I wear a lot of jewel tones, but I also wear a lot of earth tones, and I don’t really see them as being in competition. Rock all the colours!

82. pc or console?

Phone. XD I don’t play much on either, mainly due to time. Phone has the benefit of being in my pocket when I’m at a loose end on the bus, or at my parents’. I don’t sit down and make time to play, I play games in the stolen minutes here and there when I don’t have much to do.

84. podcasts or talk radio?

Classical music radio in the office (because it’s the most neutral), retro stations in the car (or whatever your guests would like), and podcasts at home when you are by yourself.

84. barbie or polly pocket?

I didn’t have a real Barbie (fairly sure ours were knockoff dolls) but I do have fond memories of making outfits for our toys. Though our favourites were always various little animal models who got into all sorts of adventures.

86. cookies or cupcakes?

Cookies, but it’s a close call. Really, I’d have to say biscuits, since I eat those more often than either of the above.

88. your greatest wish?

For myself? To be happy. For others? Ditto.

90. luckiest mistake?

Getting into my first degree. Feels like I fell into it, but it set me off on a great path, and I don’t regret that my initial path was far from straightforward.

92. lamps, overhead lights, sunlight or fairy lights?

All of the above.

94. favorite season?

That kind of Spring-Summer interface when all the plants are in bloom, and the weather is warm but not too hot, and the days are long.

96. desktop background?

Arietty’s bedroom from the Ghibli Borrowers film adaptation. I’m a sucker for ghibli aesthetic; usually because my rooms end up similarly haphazardly adorned with cool things.

98. favorite historical era?

Every era has its own awesomeness. I feel very fondly for the regency period because of all the books I’ve read set in it, likewise the Victorian period. Though both aren’t without their problems. I realised that I style my hair like a Victorian; centrally parted with a neat, low bun at the nape of the neck. XD

I think that might be all the questions! Phew!

#ask meme #personal #my life #askdx #ask dx

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