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whenimaunicorn · 3 years

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Playing House - Part 12

“I got the high score on your game, and now, I’m going to get the high score on your girl.”

Hvitserk x f!Reader, Ubbe x f!Reader Words: 6336

It’s here, the frat bro pornfest! No new warnings for this installment, we’ve got the standard rough sex, D/s dynamics, and gratuitous use of “dude” and “bro.” Also the disaster above the text is what you get when I make my own covers.

Catch up: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17

“Like,” you furrow your brow, trying to catch up, “with a stopwatch?”

“Yeah,” Ubbe answers. “You squeeze me when you’re starting to come, and I’ll hit the button. Then I turn it off when you can breathe again.”

You lick your lips. “And whoever can give me the longest orgasm is the winner?”

“Oh yeah.” Hvitserk squeezes your thighs, making you jump just a little as his fingers press into the bottom of your bruising ass.

“That’s ridiculous,” you say, but you don’t sound like you mean it.

His fingertips slide deeper under the edge of your shorts, playing with the flesh left tender by Ubbe’s spanking. “Hey, if you don’t want to play my nice game, I can try one of your mean ones . . .”

“I didn’t say that,” you rush to correct, although it certainly turns you on even more when Hvitserk digs his fingers right into your sore cheeks, until you writhe and hiss above him. “Who starts?”

Hvitserk switches back to nice touches, palming your ass in hearty handfuls. His brow cocks, and he turns to Ubbe. “Home field advantage, bro. You go first.”

Ubbe reaches around your shoulders and, with a playful growl, pulls you bodily off his brother. He tucks your back in against his front, so you’re still facing Hvitserk, now seated on the center cushion of the couch between them. Ubbe’s hands come up around your body, curling possessively over your breasts as he mouths at your neck just below your ear. Home field advantage, indeed. He already knows exactly what you like, and you feel like you’re already halfway there just from all the lust pervading the room.

Ubbe pops the clasp of your bra, freeing your tits for Hvitserk’s eyes. And his own hands. After he tosses your bra he’s scooping them up from underneath, presenting them toward his brother, squeezing and teasing your nipples rather than covering them up until Hvitserk looks like he might start drooling from the show.

“I thought we decided I’d get top half first,” he finally says, leaning in toward you.

“Just warming her up,” Ubbe purrs against your neck, then releases your breasts and pushes you softly forward. “Here you go.”

Hvitserk catches you in a kiss as you lean into him, deceptively sweet before he palms both your breasts. Ubbe’s fingers tickle at the backs of your thighs, and then he’s stripping you, pushing shorts and panties together down your hips. So much for showing off that matching set. You get up on your hands and knees to help it happen.

Naked between both of them now. You have to stop kissing Hvitserk to let Ubbe get you into the position he wants from you. Hvitserk keeps helping himself to your tits as you end up with your back propped up against him, the rest of your body laying along the couch so Ubbe can get his face in between your legs.

You’ve said it before; Ubbe loves eating pussy. You’ve never had it so good from anyone. Unless Hvitserk has acquired some sort of unfathomable, god-like secrets of the female body, you don’t know how he’s going to possibly outdo his older brother. Ubbe already knows exactly what you like. He kisses along your body before nestling between your thighs, then opens you up boldly with his tongue. He closes in on your favorite spot with the steady confidence of a master, his hot tongue starting broad but never failing to hit you squarely at just the right angle with every pass.

This may be a competition, but Hvitserk is not being stingy with his assistance. His hands continue to play with your nipples, almost idly, like he absolutely can’t help himself. And the raspy way he’s breathing in your ear while he toys with your body – he’s making Ubbe’s job too easy. Caught between the two of them like this, your breath starts hitching almost before you’ve really had a chance to settle in and enjoy this crazy scenario.

“You’re close,” Hvitserk says.

“Uh huh,” you reply. It comes out throaty little sexpot voice.

Ubbe growls with pride, the vibration of it against your clit ratcheting you up yet another notch closer to release.

Hvitserk’s hands leave your breasts. One digs in his pocket, producing his phone so, just as they had said, he can open a stopwatch app. That alone should be killing the mood, but then Ubbe presses his fingers inside you and you realize there really is no going back for you. Nothing is too juvenile, or ridiculous, when the Lothbrok boys are the ones asking you for it.

Long, cool fingers wrap around your own. Hvitserk is holding your hand. “Squeeze me when you start coming,” he rasps in your ear. You can hear the excitement behind his instructional tone. This is so fucked-up, and they both love it.

Ubbe goes in for his grand finale. He finds that perfect angle, from both inside and out now, and works you relentlessly.

“Ooooh…” your moaning starts, and just as that wave of pleasure crests you clench your fingers around Hvitserk’s hand.

You hold your breath. The orgasm rocks you hard, your naked body writhing against Hvitserk’s chest, your cheek rubbing into his t-shirt and you hope you’re not going to drool on him. You had been a little worried that knowing your orgasm would be timed might be too much pressure, might make it slip away as soon as it’s crested like you’ve experienced in less-than-ideal situations before, but Ubbe is too good for that, this situation is apparently too hot for that, and you’re sure that clock is running even longer than you ever expected as the pleasure spirals in wave after wave through your core underneath Ubbe’s relentless tongue.

You suck in one gasping breath and then hold it again, somewhere in the middle there. You keep it in even after the ecstasy begins to fade, and maintain your death grip on Hvitserk’s hand. Hvitty’s a cool guy, but Ubbe’s your guy, right? One of them, at least. It’s easy to follow the urge to cheat the clock a little on his behalf. Exaggerate the results by a few more heartbeats. He deserves it. And it feels good to pick him over someone else for once.

Finally you slump, going limp in Hvitserk’s arms except for a few twitches as Ubbe finishes up with one last swipe of his tongue. He embraces your thighs, nestling in against one leg and gasping a little himself.

“Twenty-two seconds,” Hvitserk reads, “very nice, bro.”

Ubbe nips at your thigh, with affection. “She’s amazing.”

Four hands move across your body, enhancing your afterglow. Ubbe makes his way down your legs as Hvitserk sets his phone to the side and runs his palms up your flanks.

Coming as hard as that might make a girl sleepy, but under the movement of those hands you feel electrified, like every one of your nerve endings has been turned on now, and the possibilities for pleasure are only just beginning.

Ubbe comes up to his knees between your legs, leaning forward and scooping you up with a hand in your hair to meet his insistent kiss. You sit up between them, enjoying the slight soreness of your spanked ass rubbing bare against the couch cushion, and savor Hvitserk’s hands as they caress down your back to your hips. “Time to switch,” you ask between Ubbe’s kisses, “or will there be an interlude?”

Ubbe makes an interested sound as your hands run down to his crotch. As you expected, he’s rock hard and swelling into your touch.

“When we’re alone,” you croon, “you’re usually making me return a favor like that almost immediately.”

Ubbe responds by pushing your head firmly downwards.

One of the best parts about being a sub is that you’re not responsible for managing anything about a scene. Nothing but your own hard limits, of course. But something simple like this, deciding whether this is okay, or if Hvitserk will find this too rude or feel left out . . . that’s not your job to consider. Ubbe’s forcing your face down to his crotch and that’s the only thing that has to be in your world right now.

He sighs as you open up his jeans, releasing the pressure that had to be quite restrictive for him all this time. Neither of the boys have taken off a stitch of clothing, you realize, and here you are fully naked on your hands and knees between them.

Ubbe reaches in and pulls his erection out through the fly of his boxer briefs. Does It count as him getting a little more naked, if he’s immediately pulling your mouth over to swallow it up?

You always kind of think about channeling your inner snake when sucking Ubbe off, as you just about unhinge your jaw to fit that slab of meat he’s packing into your mouth. It’s worth it for the sounds he makes, though. This time he’s holding himself back, probably trying to look tough with his brother present, but his guttural grunts and muttered curses when you swirl your tongue just right are close enough to the full show. He keeps his hand on the back of your neck, too, not exactly controlling your movements but certainly keeping you on-task down there.

As your head came down to meet Ubbe’s cock, your hindquarters rose. Hvitserk is certainly getting an eyeful of your ass and whatever he can glimpse of your pussy between your bare thighs, with your knees only slightly spread for balance up on the couch cushion. It takes him longer than you expect to reach out and start exploring what’s on offer with his fingertips.

He starts low on your thighs, tracing up toward your naughty bits lightly. You arch your back a little more, encouraging him. His fingernails graze over the widest part of your ass.

The longer it takes him to come close to your pussy, the more you’re silently begging him to. You’re working your mouth up and down over Ubbe’s cock, relishing your lover’s taste and scent, sure, but you’re also quite distracted by thoughts of what Hvitserk’s looking at and what he’s going to do next.

When his thumb finally slides down to the edge of your pussy lips you moan, loudly, the sound made even more pornographic by the way Ubbe’s choking cock distorts it. Perhaps Hvitserk understands it as encouragement, because his thumb keeps sliding, up and down, in a confident delineation of the edges of your sex. You moan some more. It’s actually quite fun to hear the ways the sounds come out in garbled and staccato bursts as Ubbe’s hand urges your mouth faster and deeper.

“Fuck, keep making those sounds,” Ubbe says.

Hvitserk does his part, continuing to tease your cunt, not doing anything very specific or intense, just exploring and tantalizing and waking everything up all over again. He finds your clit and bats at it just a little, then spirals away again to swirl his fingertip at your very entrance.

“Fuck, this pussy,” Hvitserk groans through his teeth. “I want to fuck it so bad.”

You arch your back even more, almost trying to force yourself over his fingers as you continue on fastidiously with the job in front of you.

Ubbe speaks for you. “Go ahead, dude. I think there’s still condoms in the drawer.”

Hvitserk’s pressure increases, just a little bit. “Not yet.” He traps your clit between his fingers and pinches. “Still gotta win that contest. I need to keep my head in the game. I get off now, I lose my edge.”

You can’t fucking take it. You slide up off Ubbe’s cock with a popping sound so you can plead with Hvitserk. “Just a little, then? Just fuck it a little.” He’s making you too fucking crazy to keep quiet. “I want you, Hvitserk.”

“Honey, you think I can get in this cute little pussy of yours and stop myself before I blow? No one’s that strong.”

“Speaking of blowing . . .” Ubbe’s coaxing your mouth back over his dick before you can answer, using your scalp to hold you steady as he starts to fuck up into your face. Your aroused little moans turn helpless around the rough thrusting of his cock, while Hvitserk gifts you with a fraction of what you want by pressing one blessed finger inside.

“Swallow it all,” Ubbe tells you, his voice gone breathy and thin. “Don’t spill a drop.”

You fuck yourself back over Hvitserk’s long finger as Ubbe’s pace increases, spurring himself on to blast his seed into the back of your throat. Swallowing is certainly the easiest way to make sure you don’t choke.

He shudders inside your mouth, holding you close while he pants and decides he’s really done. You savor the last moments of Ubbe’s cock in your mouth. Hvitserk slowed down when your body stopped rocking, but never really stopped: in, out. In, out. That finger keeps sliding, to remind you. Ubbe’s done, but you’re not. Not. Even. Close.

When Ubbe finally releases your face, you suck him clean as you pull back and then lift your head. You hold the rest of your body still, unwilling to interrupt Hvitserk’s steady rhythm inside you. Ubbe wraps his hand under your chin, guiding you to look up at him.

His eyes are sleepy around the edges, but still sparkling. You watch them track quickly over your face. “You’re up, Hvitserk,” he says, amused. “She looks ready.”

Unfortunately, this makes Hvitserk stop fingering you. You turn towards him with a whine.

He meets your eyes and smirks. “Definitely ready. Lay down.”

You spread yourself along the couch as Hvitserk slides down off it, guiding your legs to open where he can easily reach you from his knees on the floor. Your head doesn’t fit in Ubbe’s lap from this position; you’re lying flat on your back across the middle of the couch, with your face next to his hip. He reaches down and cups your cheek, dragging his thumb idly over your skin.

It feels a little more vulnerable, to be laid out like this. Which enhances the thrill of knowing that a man you barely know is between your spread legs, staring at your most intimate places. Hvitserk lets his hot breath steam over your wet and needy entrance, building the anticipation. Hands caress the insides of your thighs, then his thumb starts sliding in to open you up.

You can feel how wet you’ve become from the ease with which he parts your inner lips. You moan and arch as Hvitserk drags that moisture up to lubricate your clit, letting him draw easy circles around the sensitive button.

When he leans in to replace his thumb with his mouth, it’s gentle, almost a kiss. Then he sucks on your clit and your eyes roll into the back of your head.

“Fuck, you look good like this,” Ubbe mutters. He leans forward and scoops up both your breasts with his hands. “I’m going to get hard again already.”

A nervous giggle slips out as you ponder how you might get caught in an endless cycle of cocks after this. If watching you with one is only going to keep turning the other one on again. Perhaps you’re fortunate that Ubbe and Ivar never try to have you at the same time like this. A girl can only take so much.

Hvitserk, it turns out, is not an idle boaster. His competence at eating pussy is instantly apparent. His tongue glides hungrily to all the right places, and when you look down, the dark satisfaction in his hooded eyes makes you feel like you’re caught in a filthy monster’s jaws.

You can’t even track what exactly he’s doing down there. All you know is that the pleasure is surging, from every square millimeter that his lips and tongue touch. He slips two fingers inside you, and rocks them in such a way that you swear he’s found something inside there that no one else has ever noticed before. Your whole body is singing.

An obnoxious noise brings you just a little bit back down to earth. One of Ubbe’s hands leaves your chest, the other left gently cupping one tit.

“It’s Ivar,” Ubbe says, scooping Hvitserk’s vibrating phone off the table.

Hvitserk sucks you hard before lifting his mouth, drawing a strangled cry from you. You realize you’ve been making all kinds of crazy noises for the past few minutes. “Let him listen,” the arrogant boy responds.

Ivar’s voice is faint, but you can hear it, issuing forth from the phone hovering above you in Ubbe’s hand. His tone is impatient, as usual: “Hvitserk, you there?”

His brother has dropped his mouth back between your legs, sucking at you in time to the curl of his fingertips deep inside. There’s no way to keep yourself from moaning, and making ragged little sounds whenever you try to breathe.

“Interesting.” Ivar drags out the first syllable. You don’t hear anything from him for a while, and then, he says your name. “Can you hear me?”

You turn your next moan upward, into a whiny little “uh huh!”

Hvitserk is not letting you get any more lucid than that.

“Are you showing Hvitserk your best hospitality?” Ivar asks, his Dom voice apparent even from this distance. Ubbe’s thumb moves and his voice gets louder. “Doesn’t sound like it,” Ivar continues, chastising you on speaker. “It sounds like you’re being quite selfish.”

Is Hvitserk getting you in trouble right now? The movement of his tongue only intensifies, threatening to turn your steady moans into squeals. Your legs are starting to shake as heat floods your core.

“What are they doing to you over there?” Ivar continues. “I don’t hear Ubbe, but I’m sure he’s lurking about.”

If he’s expecting you to answer, he’s going to be disappointed. No way you’re capable of speech.

“I hope you are enjoying yourself,” Ivar says, continuing on as a monologue. “And I hope that you’re looking forward to being punished later, for being such a bad girl. Making our guest work so hard for your own selfish, wicked pleasure.” Every word goes straight to your cunt, helping Hvitserk build you toward an orgasm that promises to be a screamer. “You’re the one that should have your mouth full right now, greedy girl. I see that you can’t be trusted to be left alone. We will begin… some much stricter training when I get home.” Fuck. “I’m sure Hvitserk won’t mind helping me teach you better manners. Are you close, greedy girl? I hear your voice changing. Enjoy it, because it might be the last one that you get for a long, long time.”

Between Ivar’s words and Hvitserk’s skills, you don’t stand a fucking chance. You clutch behind you to find Ubbe’s hand, barely remembering the rules of the contest in time as this pleasure starts to climax.

“Wait,” Ubbe huffs, “gotta get the stopwatch.”

Ivar’s chuckle drips out of the phone while Ubbe fumbles with it. He may have had some choice words for what these two gorgeous, sexy idiots are up to, but you only hear him get as far as “Are you two—” before a rushing in your ears takes over and you lose consciousness of anything else but the tidal wave of pleasure crashing through your body.

Hvitserk is relentless. He doesn’t slow the intensity a bit, pushes you through your screaming, writhing orgasm with the dedication of a pit bull as he just hits that magic spot over and over and over. You’re shaking and gasping before it’s done, and when the peak turns to oversensitivity he’s still determined to wring a few more seconds out of you, doesn’t stop until your thighs try to clench shut around his head in a helpless attempt to push him away.

You’re left panting as Ubbe announces the time above your head. “Thirty-four seconds.”

“And you started late,” Hvitserk points out. He’s panting too.

“And I started late,” Ubbe admits.

So much for your attempt at cheating on Ubbe’s behalf. Hvitserk sure as hell won fair and square. If Ivar’s little participation doesn’t count.

Wait. Is Ivar still on the phone?

“I take it Hvitserk is the winner.”

Yep. He’s there.

Hvitserk wipes his mouth as he rises from the ground, lifting one of your legs to roll you out of his way so he can resume his seat on the end of the couch. He nestles himself against your naked hip and reaches out his upturned hand to Ubbe, silently asking for his phone back.

You expect him to speak, but all you hear is the descending tone indicating an ended call. Hvitserk tosses his phone back on the table with a dismissive sound. You think you might even see a trace of a snarl on his lip as you look up at him through your post-orgasmic haze.

Then all his attention is back on you. You watch his greedy eyes run all over your body, from your upturned hip to the curve of your tilted waist, your bare breasts and your parted, panting mouth. “What were you saying earlier?” he asks, leaning in with a conspiratorial smile. “Something about want me to ‘fuck it just a little?’”

You nod breathlessly as he climbs further over your body. His hooded eyes look predatory now, and if somehow Ivar made him mad then he definitely seems ready to take it out on you. He gives your hip a little smack, watching how the impact makes you jiggle, then inspects your face while he gives you another one.

“You like it rough, huh?”

You nod, and twist your body to present your ass to him even better. Honestly you feel like your pussy is about to start dripping on the couch, so it also doesn’t hurt to get it further away from the cushions.

He nods too, thoughtfully. “There’s this position I like. Not every girl can handle it.”

Ubbe makes an interested noise above you. “She can handle a lot.”

“So I keep hearing.” Hvitserk taps at your ass. “Up.”

He stands at the same time as you do, and you don’t miss the way he readjusts himself inside his pants. He pulls you in close for a kiss, pressing your naked body fully against his clothes.

He whips his shirt off. Finally. “There are condoms around here?”

“Yes,” you say, dropping to your knees to open one of the little drawers at the base of the coffee table. You and Ubbe had scattered them all over the house before he made his monogamy pledge and the tests had come back clean. You turn back to Hvitserk, presenting him the little package in your palms.

He makes a happy little noise in the back of his throat. “I like the way you look down there.” He loosens his belt. “Now I’m thinking you need to stay on your knees and show me what that sweet mouth can do.”

You nod, eagerly, as you watch him get his dick out and step closer to your face. You meet it with your tongue, wrapping a hand around his shaft to keep him pointed down where you can reach.

There’s something extra fun about a blowjob that you don’t intend to finish. You lick around the head of his cock like it’s a lollypop, pausing to give him playful eye contact and then watching him watch you swallow it up.

Ubbe’s the one that groans. When you flick your eyes over to him he’s got one hand thrust into his own pants like he’s gearing up for round two. “You look so good. Teasing it like that.”

You can’t help yourself. You keep your eyes locked onto Ubbe while pulling Hvitserk a little closer, giving his shaft little kitten licks.

“You are fucking hot as hell, darlin’,” Hvitserk says, looking straight down the line of his body at you. “But I’ve had enough teasing tonight. Come up over here.”

He leads you to the side of the couch and bends you over the armrest.

“Saw this in a porno once.” He kicks at your legs until you spread them a little further apart. “Stop me if it’s not working for you. But I think you’re flexible enough.”

He pushes down between your shoulders until your chest hits the couch. You relax the side of your face into the cushion and just go with it. Now your hips are higher than the rest of your body, and quite decently supported by the plush armrest. Not hard so far. There must be something more coming.

You hear the sound of the condom wrapper opening. Ubbe shifts above your head, but you resist the temptation to check and see what he’s doing on his end of the couch. Ivar’s right; you’ve been selfish. You must give your full submission to Hvitserk now, and show him that you are doing exactly as he instructs. No more, no less, and no looking at his brother.

You know you’re wet but he spits on his fingers and works a little added lubrication into you anyway.

“I liked the way you were begging,” he comments, voice husky as you feel him moving in closer. “Think I can make you beg a little more?”

“Oh, Hvitserk, please.” You angle your hips up even higher, offering yourself to him. You’re positively aching to be filled up, after all this.

“Please what?” You feel the brush of something thicker than fingers against your slick entrance.

You take a breath. “Please fuck me until I can’t walk straight.”

“That is definitely the plan.” He pushes into you slow, the second Lothbrok you’ve let go balls-deep into you now. He’s not as thick as Ubbe but that hardly matters, not when you’re swollen with need and reveling in the fact that this one wants you too, bad enough to throw shame out the window and fuck you right in front of his brother. “Fuuuuck.” He presses in deep and just stays there a minute, hands gripping your ass tight.

You buck your hips up against him, although you don’t have much leverage with your belly in the couch and your legs spread so wide.

He grunts and answers your enthusiasm with his own, starting to bounce against you in measured thrusts. “Ungh, I knew you had a sweet little pussy. Are you happy to share it with me?”

“Yes,” you wail, as he pounds you harder, the friction electrifying every nerve ending they hadn’t already fried out with that pussy-eating competition.

“You gonna share it with me all week?”

“Uh huh!”

“And you can you really handle that? Three guys telling you what to do around here? Keeping this pussy full?”

“M-mhmm.”

“What was that?”

“Yes! I’ll find a way.”

“Good.” His thrusts have settled into a quick, steady rhythm. “Arch your back more.”

You really have to press your chest into the couch, and come up to your tiptoes when it feels like you can barely reach the floor as it is, but you manage it. It makes his thrusts feel deeper, threatening to bottom out against your cervix.

“Now give me your arms.”

This must be it. The thing that other girls won’t do. You give up supporting your body with your forearms, twisting them both behind your back instead. It puts a lot of your weight on your face and upper chest, the only things left to support the bouncing impacts of his thrusting, but it’s manageable. Fingers wrap around your wrists, straightening your arms back behind you. He’s using them like handles now, to pull your arched body over his cock. It’s rough, but you can take it. You’re just flexible enough.

“Fuck, you look so good like this,” Hvitserk croons.

“You’re telling me,” Ubbe says. His voice is coming from the side now. You open your eyes to see that he’s left the couch for the coffee table, sitting right across from your face where he can get the best view of your contorted figure. “Think you can lift your feet off the ground, wrap them behind him?”

You try. Lifting your legs like that clenches your pelvic floor, which makes Hvitserk yelp and then fuck you harder. Now you’ve got absolutely no control at all, laying on your face and getting fucked down into the cushions. You might be drooling. There’s nothing to be done for it if you are.

You wouldn’t be able to stay like this for long, but it doesn’t seem like you’re going to have to. Hvitserk’s making this drawn-out humming sort of noise, he’s so into it, pistoning into you at an accelerating rate that suggests he’s barreling toward climax.

“This is the hottest fucking thing I’ve ever seen,” Ubbe says. You want him to shut up so he doesn’t make Hvitserk uncomfortable, but these two do seem to have some kind of established groove for this already. And hearing him tell you how sexy this outrageously acrobatic pose is does make it easier for you to hang on in it for a little longer. It’s not an angle that’s going to get you off, but ferocious pleasure rings through your body anyway.

“Ahh—” Hvitserk’s rising wail almost sounds desperate, and then he forces air between his teeth as he grinds himself even deeper into you.

You don’t complain as he crushes you just a little more. It’s obvious that he’s reveling in a prolonged, ecstatic climax, and you’re certainly not going to begrudge him anything less than the thirty-four seconds of bliss he so recently finished giving you.

But when he gasps the end of his release, and his body stops clenching, you’re tugging your arms out of his grip, grateful to untwist your shoulders and get the pressure off your neck.

“Fuck—thanks. Fuck,” he pants. “That was incredible.” He stays inside you. You feel his forehead drop to the middle of your back as you both start letting your muscles relax one by one. You like the way his hair feels on your skin.

An insistent, gorilla-like grunt emanates from somewhere above your head. “My turn,” Ubbe says, and his hands wrap around your forearms.

“Dude,” Hvitserk exhales. “Give me a fucking minute!” His hips writhe against you. “She feels so fucking good . . .”

You feel Ubbe take a seat on the couch next to your head, but he does not release your arms. His grip flexes impatiently, but at least he’s not pulling you bodily out from underneath his brother.

“She probably needs a rest too, dude,” Hvitserk continues, his breath warming your skin. “A little recovery time from all that.” As if realizing he was barely following his own advice, he withdraws himself carefully from your body and lets you move your legs more comfortably back together.

“Nah, she’s better than that,” Ubbe rumbles, voice thick and rich and proud. “She takes dick like a champ.” His fingers tickle under your chin until you look up at him. “You want two in a row, don’t you babe.” The gleam in his eye tells you he’s fully recovered from his last orgasm, and absolutely ready to go.

Hvitserk is being very nice. But is nice really what you want? You probably wouldn’t be in this position if that was the case. “Yeah,” you say, answering Ubbe’s growling with your own throaty sex kitten moan.

Ubbe’s blue eyes blaze and he tugs you towards him. Your legs wobble a little as you climb around the arm of the couch. Hvitserk’s promise kept. Ubbe sees your weakness and scoops you up, like any good predator would.

He whirls you around, getting you underneath his body as your back presses into the armrest of his side of the couch. He can only kiss you once, as sloppy as he is passionate, before he’s struggling with his pants.

That glorious erection is rock-hard as you help him free it from his clothing. He wastes no time pushing himself into you, as if he took Hvitserk’s dirty talk about “keeping this pussy full” quite seriously.

You might be just a little bit sore. That hardly matters when Ubbe gets his rhythm going, the aching only adding to the decadent pleasure of back-to-back fuckings.

He’s got one foot on the floor, giving him ridiculous leverage to split you open against the corner of the couch. You throw your arms around his neck and brace yourself, looking over his shoulder at Hvitserk’s sleepy-cat smile as the boy catches his breath while watching you get impaled.

“Touch yourself,” says Ubbe, shifting to pull your hand down between your bodies, flexing his fucking abs to curl his body and give you room as he continues to pound.

“Ivar said—”

“Don’t you want one more, before he makes that threat official?”

Fuck. Good point. See, Ubbe can be nice too. You let your fingers fly.

“I want to feel you cum all over my dick,” he grunts out, his pace increasing as he seems to turn himself on even more with just the thought. “And I want to hear it, too.”

It doesn’t take long. Your poor pussy shivers under Ubbe’s onslaught, the clenching of your muscles as you hold yourself up against it magnifying the oncoming orgasm into something that makes you want to scream like some kind of wild shieldmaiden between your teeth.

And Ubbe wanted to hear you. So you do. That sizzling pleasure radiates out of your core until your lower half locks up, clamping around him so hard that even his punishing pace has to slow.

When you suck in your next breath and the sound of your own voice fades, you hear Ubbe gasping. He’s coming too, locked down in your throbbing pussy. You stay like that, clenched tight and pressing up against him, for a few more breaths while your climax fades only slowly. You actually felt your inner walls milking him. Drawing that seed deep up inside you.

You release a throaty sigh and finally let your body unwind.

Ubbe presses his forehead against yours. “Fuck, princess,” he breathes. “How do you keep getting more amazing?”

You end up sprawled along the couch between them, your head in Hvitserk’s lap while Ubbe massages every kink out of the big muscles of your legs. You don’t feel self-conscious to still be naked. You feel like nothing less than a classical goddess. Something the masters would line up to paint, and even more; the utterly feminine deity that men have immortalized in clay and enshrined on cave walls since the dawn of the human capacity to think. Nothing more natural in the world than your naked, beloved body.

Which doesn’t mean that you’re not grateful when Ubbe spreads a warm blanket over you, when his massaging hands have mostly finished. Sure, you were going to spend the afternoon cleaning this room, but your eyes are drifting closed in the post-sex haze now. They’ll turn the game back on, won’t they, and let you take a little nap across their laps first.

But you don’t hear the TV turn back on. Not yet. Instead, a conversation begins above your dozing head.

“You do this with Ivar, dude?”

Ubbe shifts underneath your leg before he responds. “Not like this.”

Hvitserk makes a soft sound. “Didn’t think so.” There’s a pause, long enough to tempt you back into sleep, but you really want to hear if they’re going to say anything more about this. Hvitserk has known them his whole life. He probably has some insight that would be valuable for you to know. You shift a little in his lap though, making sure he knows you’re still awake. Wouldn’t be right to actually eavesdrop.

His hand comes to your head, stroking gently across your hair. “Can't believe Ivar's really sharing with you, dude.”

“Maybe I'm sharing with him.”

Hvitserk just laughs.

You open your eyes to see Ubbe shrugging. “It’s working out so far. I let him lead.”

“I didn’t think you could do that.”

Ubbe leans forward over your feet, grabbing his forgotten bottle off the coffee table. “He’s grown a lot, since we were all at home.” He takes a thoughtful swig. “I probably have, too.” He makes eye contact with you for a second, possibly acknowledging the awkwardness of talking about these things over your head, but doesn’t say anything that might draw you into the conversation.

Not that you have anything to say. You’re just soaking up every little piece of information you can get.

Your face is pointed away from Hvitserk; although you’re in his lap, you can’t really see anything of him but his knee.

“Well, it’s the only thing I’ve ever found that works with him. Ivar has to be the one in control, or it doesn’t go well.”

“You say that like I haven’t been living with him for years, too, dude.”

“I’m saying it because it’s hard to believe you can really pull that off. You’ve always had to kind of be the top dog yourself, dude.”

Ubbe’s fingers stroke you underneath the blanket. “Some things are worth a little compromise.”

Hvitserk bounces your head just a little. “What do you think? Is Ubbe ever really not the boss?” You rouse yourself, twisting your body until your face is pointed up at Hvitserk’s. “Pretty much ran the show today, didn’t he?”

You consider your answer, glancing between their waiting faces. At least they’re both smiling. This is not an answer you need to feel worried about crafting too carefully. “I think it was pretty natural for him to guide things today,” you say, looking up into Hvitserk’s eyes, “since you and I had never—” you trail off self-consciously as you stare up into that gorgeous face.

Hvitserk squeezes you up in his arms, and his smile turns mischievous. “But now we are very familiar with each other. Aren’t we.”

You nod, suddenly breathless again.

“You want to keep playing with me, while I’m in town?”

You smile and nod harder.

“Good,” Ubbe says, his hand running up your leg. “Cuz by my count, we’re not exactly done here. You got me off twice. Hvitserk only nutted once. That’s not right,” he says, shaking his head. “He’s our guest. You should spend tonight in bed with him, at the very least.”

And why do you get the feeling Ubbe’s going to find an excuse to be involved in that, too?

“No offense,” Hvitserk says, “but that’s the kind of shit I’m talking about, dude. Telling us what to do. You let anything not be Ivar’s idea, man, and you’re done.” Hvitserk’s gaze swivels back down to meet yours. “If he can’t hold some of that shit back,” he tells you, a smirk twisting up his cheek, “you’re never going to be able to have the both of them at the same time.”

Taglist is open: @hanhanxx @xxdearlybeloved@littledeadrottinghood @persephone-is-here-omg @rekdreams247 @inforapound @creepshowzombae @tomarisela @youbloodymadgenius @walkxthexmoon@funmadnessandbadassvikings @trashqueenbitch @justlovelifeblog @earl-aive @supernaturalvikingwhore @equalstrashflavoredtrash @that-was-not-supposed-to-happen @ceridwenofwales @grungyblonde @pokeasleepingsmaug @hvittysmutanon @honestsycrets @wuxiesalt @thorins-queen-of-erebor @writingfromasgard @tootie-fruity @lordsexmachine @uncomfortable-writers @sadbutatleastsassy @sweatstreatz01 @ritual-unions-gotme @likealostkiss @thehangedmanandthehoneybee @xxlilqueeniexx @thefightingdragon @xbergiex @artemiseamoon @ivarinleatherpants @ilikealotofpeople-younotsomuch @michael-guerin @chibisgotovalhalla @heavenly1927 @writingsnmusings

#hvitserk x reader #ubbe x reader #hvitserk/reader #ubbe/reader #vikings fic #playing house fic #vikings college au

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foxghost · 3 years

Text

Joyful Reunion, Chapter 95

Translator: foxghost @foxghost tumblr/ko-fi1 Beta: meet-me-in-oblivion @meet-me-in-oblivion tumblr Original by 非天夜翔 Fei Tian Ye Xiang Masterpost | Characters, Maps & Other Reference Index

Book 3, Chapter 21 (Part 5)

If Duan Ling is to think about it, Mu Qing is the one person to whom he’s done the most disservice. With every friend he’s ever made before, both he and the other party had given a part of himself, treated their friendship with sincerity, while Mu Qing is the only one he’s constantly guarded against. If they’d met when they were ten years old, they’d definitely have become the best of friends.

“Master Chang Pin said that Wu Du wants to keep you by his side, and that’s why he said your fortune made you unsuitable for marriage. He doesn’t want you to be taken away by someone else. You’re fully aware that there’s no such thing, don’t you?”

Chang Pin’s eyes are too sharp by far, Duan Ling thinks; when Wu Du said those words that night, Duan Ling truly did not expect them, and therefore Chang Pin had caught his momentary surprise. After that, Duan Ling had carefully dissected it in his head and realised that it’s something he had to declare — otherwise, if the Mus decide they want to form a marriage alliance with him, it would certainly complicate things. Who could guarantee that Mu Kuangda doesn’t have an illegitimate daughter hidden away somewhere out there?

This is only what Mu Qing is voicing aloud, so there must be more information that hasn’t been passed on. Chang Pin wouldn’t have brought up the matter of Duan Ling’s marriageability without cause, so he must have had something to talk about with Mu Kuangda that involved asking Mu Qing questions that he managed to hear him say that.

“Even if that’s true.” Duan Ling gives him a faint smile. “What’s wrong with being with Wu Du?”

That really is what Duan Ling truly believes; no matter what his future path may lead, he’s only going to walk it at Wu Du’s side. He wouldn’t keep to himself, the way his dad did. When he thinks of his father, Duan Ling would go so far as to say that he was already inconceivably strong.

At times, he could relate to Cai Yan. Though they haven’t met face to face after he returned to Jiangzhou, he knows Cai Yan’s fear and trepidation is even more severe than his own, and the only person he could hold on to, the only straw he’s holding onto at the edge of a precipice, is Lang Junxia.

But Mu Qing is feeling quite indignant on Duan Ling’s behalf, believing that Wu Du has tied Duan Ling to himself with a debt of gratitude. But since Duan Ling has put it that way, Mu Qing will stop talking badly about him behind his back. He can but nod and say, “Well, as long as you’re happy.”

Duan Ling smiles, but what surfaces in his mind is another scene altogether — when Mu Qing overheard the conversation between Chang Pin and his father, and filled with indignation, said he’s going to remind Duan Ling, Mu Kuangda must have told him not to say anything as it’d be of no use. Mu Qing didn’t believe him, said it anyway, and this is the predictable result.

I’m a tactful man — Mu Kuangda is always saying that. Duan Ling understands him very well, but alas his son is always quite blunt. Sometimes Duan Ling feels as though he’s far more like Mu Kuangda’s son than Mu Qing, and Mu Qing’s mindset is more like his own father Li Jianhong. Perhaps if they swap their dads around, everything would seem to be a more normal fit.

“What are you smiling at?”

“You’ve grown,” Duan Ling says.

“You make yourself sound so old or something.”

“When I was in Tongguan, I missed you very much.”

Mu Qing says smilingly, “Dad was so busy with the capital relocation that I was about bored to death. I was waiting for you to come back every single day.”

Duan Ling almost didn’t think of Mu Qing at all, he’s only telling him this now in an attempt to make him happy. Wu Du is someone who’d treat him well without knowing who he is, and so is Mu Qing. There’s a world of difference between these two people, however.

Outside, soft powdery snow is falling, and they huddle around a fire pan, not wanting to study at all. Duan Ling thinks he may as well give up, and tosses his books aside. He says to Mu Qing, “Let me take you out somewhere. Where do you want to go?”

Mu Qing would never imagine that the studious Duan Ling would be the one to ask to take him out somewhere. His eyes brighten at once. “Let’s go! I’ll take you somewhere!”

One must stop to smell the flowers every once in a while, and it just so happens that the estate is empty at the moment. Duan Ling quickly puts away their things and goes back to his courtyard house to change his clothes. When he comes out behind Mu Qing, the carriage is stopped right in front of the alley. Duan Ling asks, “Where’re we going?”

“You’ll find out once we get there,” Mu Qing replies and digs around in his waist purse until he finds a plaque. He holds on to the plaque and takes Duan Ling’s hand, giving his own hand warming stove to Duan Ling.

“Who’s there?”

The carriage travels for a while before they’re stopped at a guarded checkpoint. Duan Ling is about to answer, but Mu Qing gestures for quiet and reaches through the curtain to show the guards his plaque. “Me. I’m from the Mu family.”

“Young master of the Mu family.” The guard outside says, “Is it just you?”

“I’m here to see my dad,” Mu Qing says.

The guard hands his plaque back to him and lets the carriage pass. Are we going to the Secretariat? Where Mu Kuangda works? He’s always wanted to see the Office of the Grand Secretariat, and yet Mu Qing still won’t let him talk. It’s not until they pass through several checkpoints, after their carriage has taken many twists and turns, and has come to a stop before Mu Qing tells him, “Alright then, let’s go!”

A light snow is falling, and it is just past noon; everything is a bit damp. When Duan Ling puts his foot on the ground, he realises that he’s in a courtyard, and the walls are as tall as two people stacked on top of each other. It seems to be a rear courtyard.

“What is this place?” Duan Ling asks curiously.

Mu Qing doesn’t say anything. He takes Duan Ling’s hand and starts walking towards the other gate in the courtyard. Duan Ling is asking himself if this is what the Secretariat Office looks like, but that seems less likely with every step. It’s only after they get through a covered gallery and a flower garden that he suddenly realises they’re in the palace!

“The palace?” Duan Ling says, flabbergasted.

“Heheh.” Mu Qing has clearly taken Duan Ling here to stretch his horizons, so of course Duan Ling’s astonishment has made him quite pleased with himself. But he has no idea that to Duan Ling, this novel place he’s never been in, is his actual home.

Duan Ling’s head snaps through a dozen calculations, thinking he’d better not run into Cai Yan right now, but even if he does run into Cai Yan, so what? There’s no way he’d dare commit murder in the palace, would he? The idea makes him both nervous and excited.

Mu Qing looks like he’s lost. “Damn, I forgot we aren’t in Xichuan. How come the Jianzhou palace is so huge? I don’t even know where the path is.”

Duan Ling says, “Don’t panic. We’ll ask someone.”

They spy several guards standing in the winding corridor, and a warrior who seems like a captain of sorts, who’s giving the others instructions, so Duan Ling walks up to them to ask for directions. Yet as soon as the warrior turns around, Mu Qing goes pale with fear and hurriedly waves at Duan Ling while whispering, “Don’t go!”

Alas, though he wonders at Mu Qing’s reaction, Duan Ling is already within the warrior’s line of sight. The man has finished giving his instructions and has noticed Duan Ling.

He’s eight feet tall2 with straight black eyebrows and bright eyes, clad head to toe in black armour, carrying a plain black iron dragon flail.3

Wrapped up in a fur cape, Duan Ling has just come out of his classroom in the chancellor’s estate without having spent any time on his appearance. His hair is casually draping over his shoulders, running down his back, and he has the coral bracelet Mu Qing gave him wrapped around his wrist. As soon as the man sees him, he stops in his tracks, staring at Duan Ling incredulously as though he’s fallen into a dream.

Duan Ling isn’t sure what to make of that, and for a moment remains silent.

The warrior seems lost in thought. Duan Ling raises a hand and waves it in front of his face rather apprehensively.

“You’re …” The warrior says with a frown.

Blowing snow sweeps by them, Duan Ling smiles, straightening his back before he puts one fist in his palm to bow square and properly at the warrior.

In an instant, time turns backwards around them; the snow that covers the earth and sky is drawn away in a flash towards the horizon.

Time flows against the current. The yellow leaves beneath the trees in the palace gardens fly back onto their branches; flowers wither and bloom again, leaves turn yellow then green. Time fluctuates around him and countless images flash by in a blink as though he’s returned to the border, south of the Yellow River.

I live by the north sea and you the south; not even the great goose can carry my letters.

Peach and plum trees in spring breeze, a single cup of wine, sojourns, night rain, ten years beneath a solitary lantern.4

“My name is Wang Shan, Could you tell me in which palace hall the empress resides, please?”

Xie You finally awakens from his memories, and by now Mu Qing has jogged his way over to Duan Ling. He stands behind Duan Ling, and gives Xie You a shy smile. “General Xie, I’m here to … see my aunt.”

“Greetings, General Xie,” Duan Ling hastily adds.

Xie You comes back to the present in a heartbeat, but it’s to fall into an even more prolonged bout of distraction, until a single snowflake lands on Duan Ling’s eyebrow. Duan Ling seems a little lost, and a shallow furrow appears between his brows.

And then Xie You slowly raises a hand to point at the end of the corridor.

Mu Qing and Duan Ling salute immediately to thank him.

Mu Qing says, “Thank you, General Xie.”

“Thank you, General Xie,” Duan Ling repeats.

Mu Qing takes Duan Ling’s hand and runs off as quickly as he can. Still standing in the covered gallery, Xie You is surprised to find he’s momentarily dazzled, overcome with a feeling of vertigo, and his heart feels like it’s been given a dull thump with a hammer.

“That was Xie You,” Mu Qing says to Duan Ling. “Commander of a major army division. The best fighter of Jiangzhou, Defender General of Great Chen.”

Duan Ling is astonished beyond words. Did he recognise me? He probably shouldn’t have been able to recognise me. Even Wu Du and Mu Kuangda didn’t manage to recognise him, so let alone Xie You? He resembles his mother and doesn’t share his father’s features, but that’s somehow become a layer of protection for him.

“He gives off such a killing aura,” Duan Ling says. “The way he was looking at me earlier feels like he was going to kill me.”

“He’s like that with everyone.” Clearly, Mu Qing still remembers the impression he had of Xie You from a year ago. During that summer storm, Mu Kuangda had taken him to Li Jianhong in an attempt to give his son to him as a disciple. Xie You’s might has truly left a deep impression on him.

They make their way to the Palace of Eternal Autumn, only to find that Empress Mu Jinzhi isn’t there. A palace maid staying behind knows Mu Qing though, and smiles at him. “Aiya, what are you doing coming all the way here on your own?”

“Where’s my aunt?”

“She’s in the garden with His Majesty right now.”

Mu Qing asks the maid to find the clothes he keeps in the Autumn Palace, then he and Duan Ling change into them. Duan Ling recalls how Mu Qing’s aunt is Mu Jinzhi — the current empress. That is to say, if he goes over there just like this he’s going to run into Li Yanqiu. As this thought occurs to him, his heart starts beating out of his chest. He’s not even sure how things will turn out if Cai Yan and Lang Junxia also happen to be there.

Wu Du has also come to the palace. Is he here?

“I’d better …” Duan Ling hesitates, “not show my face. I’ll just watch from a distance. You brought me here secretly, and that’s not proper after all.”

“That’s fine. The empress is my aunt, and His Majesty is my uncle. What’s there to be scared of?”

“No no. I’m a bit scared.”

Duan Ling is far more than just a bit scared — to rashly rush his way to Li Yanqiu will create a situation out of his control. As he’s insisting over and over, Mu Qing says, “Well alright, we’ll just watch from a distance, that way I wouldn’t get interrogated either.”

By the time they get to the Imperial Gardens, the snow has stopped. The carved balustrades and flying eaves of the palace are outlined in an even gauze of bright white. When Duan Ling sees what’s happening in the garden, his heart does a little flip. Inside the pavilion are several tables, one person sitting behind a table facing the garden, while the crowd has left a clearing in the garden itself, with quite a few people standing at its edge.

“The one in the middle is His Majesty,” Mu Qing explains, holding Duan Ling by the sleeve, keeping them behind a pillar.

The woman next to Li Yanqiu is of course Mu Jinzhi, and to the left of the seat of the emperor is a young man with an underling behind him, while farther down the line are Mu Kuangda and two more officials.

An envoy dressed in Mongolian clothing is seated in the guest seat to the right.

“The Mongolians are here?” Duan Ling thinks of the coral beads he’s wearing — ah, that fits now.

“Today is the sixth of the twelfth month — the crown prince’s birthday.” The palace maid in charge explains to them, “The Mongolians have sent an envoy with gifts to congratulate him.”

Duan Ling nods, and sees four people standing in the clearing outside the pavilion that are not speaking to one another. They are precisely Chang Liujun, Lang Junxia, Zheng Yan, and Wu Du. Duan Ling spots Wu Du with a single glance, and Wu Du is looking extremely impatient as he stares at the scene with crossed arms.

Two Mongolians are performing a wrestling match for the crown prince. Duan Ling cannot help but remember the wrestling moves Batu taught him when they were at the Illustrious Hall. From what he’s seeing, this isn’t the first time the Mongolians have come to call on Southern Chen’s imperial family.

I do not monetise my hobby translations, but if you’d like to support my work generally or support my light novel habit, you can either buy me a coffee or commission me. This is also to note that if you see this message anywhere else than on tumblr, do come to my tumblr. It’s ad-free. ↩︎

The “eight feet tall” was a common description for “tall”. Probably about 185cm. ↩︎

The precursor to the nunchucks. They look like nunchucks, except one of the sticks is about 4x the size of the other one, with a short chain in the middle. It’s an anti-cavalry weapon. ↩︎

Poem by Huang Tingjian, Song dynasty. It was called “To Huang Jifu”, a friend of Huang Tingjian in his youth. What’s implied here is “since we met in spring beneath fruit trees and drank from a single cup, it’s been ten years of wandering alone, moving from place to place, and missing you.” ↩︎

#相見歡 #fei tian ye xiang #joyful reunion #xiang jian huan #fox translates things

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anika-ann · 3 years

Text

WINSoD - Pt.6

...We Both Will Drop

Type: series, soulmate AU series (part 1, part 2, part 3)

Pairing: Steve Rogers x reader Word count: 4820

Summary: In which the mission to retrieve stones is on and you and Steve arrive to Vormir. Some things are simply... inevitable.

Warnings: (we all know what’s coming don’t we), blood and violence, character death, mentions of suicide, language

A/N: Don’t blame me, it’s the large scheme and shit. *runs and hides in a middle of nowehere*

Part 5

༻༺༻༺༻ღ༺༻༺༻༺

Everyone on the team had been through having their heart broken at least once; hell, find one of humankind who hadn’t. After the Snap, it was an impossible task; even children, when asked, felt like something was missing to them, feeling a deeply-embedded longing they couldn’t quite comprehend. Surely, they wouldn’t use such big words, having only been five years old now, but the sentiment was all the same.

And when all humanity felt like that, there was little space for hope.

However, the hope that barely started to take roots in the team when they figured out a way to unlimitedly travel in time and space, grew rapidly when Natasha winced in a middle of summarizing the plan once more; only to reveal that the source of pain was… insane.

It was a tattoo-like message on her collarbone.

She had received a new set of words. And they happened to be written in Sam Wilson’s handwriting, a sentence little snarky and little sappy and… no one blamed Scott for asking the question that itched everyone on the tip of their tongue.

“So… that means we succeed, right? And they meet again, more or less for the first time? I mean, we already saw a case like that.”

Despite the cold shiver running up your spine, your heart was wrapped in a fluffy warmth at that thought. It would be worth it. The sacrifice made will be worth it.

You swiftly dried the tear forming in the corner of your eye at the memory of Natasha’s reluctant but bright smile before Steve could notice. You followed him as he climbed towards the peak of which your instincts told you was exactly the place to go.

He was gallantly helping you to follow without a single ‘I told you so,’ even when you slipped and nearly face-planted. Instead, he smiled at you tenderly, concern furrowing his brow, but not once he complained about you being a liability instead of the help you were supposed to provide.

Vormir was an inhospitable planet. All built of rocks, with icy wind, sweeping snowflakes into your face and you were grateful for your gloves and Steve’s broad shoulders that shielded you at least partly.

Finally reaching a plateau, you were welcomed by a creature floating above the surface; his face red, a bald scalp, head stripped to a bone with nearly no skin, muscles or fat, partly hidden by a hood of his tattered cloak.

You never liked studying history, but even you knew who this was – or who he seemed to be. If Steve’s face and posture was anything to go by, he thought the same.

But that couldn’t be, right? The Red Skull had died- disappeared when touching an Infinity Stone. Would it really be so crazy if he was still connected to one?

“Steven, son of Sarah,” the peculiar creature welcomed your soulmate with a hiss, repeating a greeting of similar nature with you, only showing off he knew your father’s name, not mother’s like with Steve, and obviously calling you a daughter.

Which wasn’t creepy at all.

“You-“ Steve only growled and was already lunging at the man, only for his body to go through him as if the figure was nothing but a unsubstantial illusion.

You yelped in fright for Steve, but he didn’t even fall to the ground, his training preparing him for more surprising situations that his opponent being immaterial.

The Red Skull appeared to be annoyed at Steve’s antics at best; he didn’t make any attempt at attacking either him or you, only watching you with freakily knowing gaze as if he already learned your purpose here. Which was impossible, right?

But was it?

“Steve… I don’t think we need to fight him,” you whispered, averting the piercing glare of the Skull on you.

Steve looked at you as if you were crazy and threw himself on the cloaked figure again; shockingly, with the very same result.

It was an irony for God’s pleasure, you guessed, Steve fighting an old enemy, an enemy that couldn’t be defeated it seemed. Funny metaphor of his life no one laughed at; certainly not you.

Feeling two pairs of eyes on you now, you shivered.

“You don’t, indeed,” the Skull howled over the wind that picked up. “I know why you’re here and I only act as a guide. No matter how much I’d like to go another round with you, Captain, that is all I am.”

Steve snarled, but didn’t come after him again, stopping in mid-motion when you gently placed a hand of his shoulder. He ended up only leaning forward, ready to strike, shield in his hand.

He was handsome even with the scowl on his face, you thought absently and quickly brushed it off, scolding yourself for such ideas at a time like this. But why wouldn’t you let your mind wander into such territory? At the moment, you felt strangely detached from the whole scene in front of you. You wondered if that would change or if you could fulfil your purpose with your soul at peace.

“Then guide us,” Steve hissed, protectively standing between you and the Red Skull.

“Careful what you wish for, Captain.”

You followed the floating figure towards the edge of the plateau, stopping several feet from a bottomless gulf.

You closed your eyes when the vertigo overtook you, the crushing weight of your mission causing you to sway. Steve allowed you to lean onto his body, your palm sprawled across his chest, and he pulled you even farther from the edge into safer distance.

“Why are you showing us this?”

“Because that is the face of destiny you’re staring into,” your guide explained, a smirk forming on his face. Steve instantly let you go in favour to brace himself for the fight to come. Except you already knew it wouldn’t come; not the fight Steve was readying himself for. “I’m not gonna push either of you, Captain. You manage that on your own.”

“What makes you think we would ever do that?”

“The fact that it’s what we need to do to get the Stone,” you answered quietly to the question Steve had spitted out, earning a horrified glance from him.

“Indeed. A Soul Stone is a special entity. To get a hold of it, you must sacrifice a soul. You have found yourself a smart wife, Captain, for she knows this. Too bad she won’t be able to make it back.”

“Over my dead body,” Steve snarled and for a good measure grabbed your hand and dragged you away from the floating figure.

“That certainly is an option too.”

“Fuck. You. Liar!” Steve snapped at him and not even his anger moved you this time. Anger was good. Anger was familiar and in a pleasant contrast to your serenity returning.

“Am I? Or does your team have another explanation for Gamora’s death? Never in my lifetime I thought I’d see a Titan shed tears…” the Skull mused.

Steve’s eyes met yours as he faced you and what he saw in them must have shook him to a core, because his face lost all colour, his irises flashing with rage and something else you couldn’t quite place.

“He’s a slippery bastard, doll. I don’t trust one word-“

Denial. The other thing you saw in his eyes was denial.

“I do,” you breathed out softly, tears finally appearing in your eyes as your scarily high walls that had kept you detached from the whole ordeal came slowly crumbling down. “Thanos arrived here with whom he considered his daughter. And she didn’t make it back.”

Your heart skipped a beat, startled when Steve’s large palms gripped your shoulders and shook you.

“He’s tricking us, that’s what he does! Don’t let him play with your head,” he thundered, his fingers digging into your muscle even through your thick coat, strong enough to bruise.

Swallowing thickly as Steve stared at you, pleading, determined and still unwilling to accept the reality laid in front of him. You forced yourself not to avert his gaze when you responded in a whisper, a sound nearly lost in the howling wind.

“You know he’s telling the truth, Steve.”

You felt hollow. The cold started to seep through your clothing, or maybe it was coming from the inside, leaving your fingers and nose freezing in a desperate attempt to warm your torso up.

Steve’s hands slid from your shoulders as if they lost all strength, his own shoulders slumping, light shake of his head when he turned away from you, fingers plunging in his hair for the shortest of moments before facing you again.

You could see the shift in his attitude; you could see the fight vaporizing from his body, all harshness dissolved and blossoming into tenderness you didn’t deserve at the moment.

Yet you let him touch you, eyelids fluttering shut at the sensation, ignoring the weight in your stomach and letting yourself indulge the kindness of his touch. A lightest brush of fingers along your jaw, over your cheekbones, the pad of is thumb running over your no doubt purple lips.

He was committing himself to a memory of you and you loved him for it more than you could put into words, warm tears escaping from under your eyelids. He was a good man. Once again, he understood what had to be done and that for some reason, God seemed to hate him, asking him to sacrifice his own happiness in favour of others. He had to let you go.

“Then I go,” he breathed out and you snapped your eyes open, startled.

Of course, he got it wrong.

God, you were such an idiot, you should have known.

You threw your arms around him, tight embrace he didn’t fight, burying his face in your neck instead.

“We both know I can’t let you do that, Steve,” you negotiated, allowing the harshness of your attitude – read, thinking he was being utterly stupid – into your voice. He didn’t seem to mind, breathing in deeply, melting into your frame and you knew it was time to act before he could.

You managed to sneak one arm lower, around his waist instead. He just adjusted the hug, his lips brushing your cheek, angrily red from the whips by the biting cold.

“I love you, sweetheart. You were right. You had to come here with me,” he continued as if he hadn’t heard your protest and you squeezed your eyes shut, more burning tears rolling down your cheeks. Fuck, how much you hated this. “You’ll get the Stone back, yeah? And you live a life. Buck, Sam, Ryan, Pietro… they’ll be back and take care of you. They all love you too. Hey, you might even get a third soulmark-”

“Steve-“ you couldn’t help but growl at his dickish words.

“Shh, doll. It’s all going to be okay. “

Moving your hands over his back as he rubbed to-be-soothing circles on your own, your trembling fingers got a hold of what you were looking for in one of the pockets on his belt. You were a terrible actress, even worse spy, but here you were, succeeding in the worst mission you had ever been given; not that there had been many to compete with.

God sucked as a boss and clearly was short off staff if he was sending the king of Hell as his messenger.

You buried your face in Steve’s chest, basking in the warmth he was radiating, the irreplaceable sensation of safety and content his arms around you offered, something you would miss immensely.

“Promise?” you mumbled, choking on a sob, the hatred for yourself deeper than ever in your life.

You needed that promise. What did it matter Steve didn’t know what he was promising? You had no clue what was awaiting you; he couldn’t either. But he was a good man, you had learned that in thousands different ways through your years together.

“Promise.”

“…it’s going to be okay,” you repeated after him and he squeezed you tighter, as much as you squeezed the object in your palm.

“One for the road?” he mumbled, voice shaky, never letting you to answer him before his lips found yours, thirsty and demanding, breathing your soul in, leaving you feel floaty. You nibbled at his lower lip in response, low growl rumbling in his chest, echoing against your own ribcage, the kiss consuming your whole being.

One for the road, your mind parroted dreamily and you instinctively melted into Steve’s frame, indulging the last kiss of your lifetime.

Christ, that fact alone caused your chest to constrict with blinding panic, your tears like waterfalls.

You inhaled shakily as Steve withdrew with a sigh, both of you turning to the Red Skull.

Steve stepped forward, never registering your little theft.

How could he?

He had been through so much, enough punches to his face and back-stabbing for a life-time. He had learned how to stay alert, to expect another blow at any moment. You could tell he was never letting go of that, not entirely, not even with his friends, no matter how it crushed his good soul, his faith in people. He was always ready to look for danger so he could avoid another stab in the back. But not with you.

Never with you.

Which had been exactly what you had relied on when you did what you did. The analogy with back-stabbing wasn’t even funny.

“Alright. What do I have to do?” Steve asked with determination, his voice only wavering enough for you to hear it, and the stone-keeper looked at him with one corner of his mouth raised in an evil cocky smirk.

Bastard. Enjoying this a little too much.

“You mourn, Captain,” he whispered and met your eyes as you subtly undone a part of your coat. He must have noticed then, unlike Steve. Or maybe he truly had known all along, even before you had come here.

Seeing Steve already spinning on his heels when he understood the guide was having a wordless conversation with you, you had no time to actually brace yourself before wrapping both of your hands around the handle and driving the blade into your torso.

No one had told you it would hurt like motherfucker, but no one had told you how loud Steve’s scream would seem even over the ringing in your ears either.

No one had warned you that pulling the blade away would be really fucking hard, impossible even. But you had lived in the impossible for the past eight years, hadn’t you? You tore it away with a grunt, shocked at the dull agony.

You had planned two stabs, just not to give Steve any ideas, but the blinding pain slowed your movements. Before the tip of the knife could as much as graze you skin for the second time, Steve was easily twisting it from your hold and throwing it away.

You watched the weapon clank on the stony surface of the plateau, leaving droplets of crimson in the snow, hypnotized by the contrast.

The moment Steve’s hands touched you, your knees gave away and the throbbing in the wound intensified as you nearly collapsed to the ground. But he was here – he was always here to catch you, strong arms supporting you and shakily helping you to sit down.

For the first time, you allowed yourself to tear your gaze away from the blood and look up at him. His face was drained of all colour – funny, yours must have too, mustn’t it? –, his expression pure horror, blue and green fighting in his terrified eyes.

“What did you do?” he demanded breathlessly. “Oh god, what did you do?!”

You would think it was obvious, but your head spun too much to point that out. Too many words to form. Too much work.

“Played my part,” you mumbled instead.

Inspecting the wound shortly, but very much painfully, Steve was fast to press against it and make you howl in agony. And shit, there was so much blood… who would have thought there would be so much so fast? It was strangely warm against your body, soon cooling off. The contrast was fascinating.

“Fuck- hey, hey, you’re going to be okay! Look at me!” Steve ordered and the commanding voice left your fingers tingling. Or was it the cold? “We’ll get you to the compound and then I’ll be back here, figuring it out, okay? Now, breathe with me and do not-“

You smiled at him kindly or at least you attempted it. He was a true fighter in heart, never giving up. That was why you had needed to injure yourself fatally, which he effectively attempted to avoid when disarming you. But the biting cold prevented your body from resisting the brutal intrusion. The fact you had pulled out the stopper out in attempt to stab again had probably helped.

A part of you was getting nauseous at such formulation, at being content at succeeding in… yeah, there was no euphemism for this, it was a fucking suicide. A different part yelled ‘good’, because that had been the plan.

What Steve was offering sounded so, so tempting. He would make sure to pamper you when you got to the compound, falling asleep in the chair, holding your hand, sitting guard by your bedside and you would be warm, feeling oh so immensely loved… but you couldn’t allow that.

You forced the next words out of your mouth while your brain yelled at you to just give in and nod instead.

“No. Steve… I’m already halfway gone. You need to throw me-“

“NO! No! Not a fucking option!“ he bellowed, his vision possibly gaining crimson edges of rage if his expression was anything to go by. It was swimming in front of your eyes, but even in his anger, he was so damn beautiful. A piece of art. Man too beautiful not to be sculptured by angels themselves. “What were you thinking?!”

I wasn’t thinking. God had. The King of Hell told me to do it. This way we win, you know?

“We both know I won’t make it there if you try to take me-“

“You will!“ he spat back stubbornly, his frame shaking and you suspected it wasn’t because of the temperature. No, either he was pissed off beyond belief or… or scared. Because he was well-aware of the fact you were right.

Your body started feeling like floating, your eyes turning to the sky on their own and you gritted your teeth, fighting it.

Not yet. Not fucking yet. Not until he knew this wasn’t on him, that this was something you simply had to do.

“Steve, Stevie- this is why I was resurrected. This is it. I go, so you could continue the mission, get the Stone back, fight whatever fight might come. I’m so sorry for this, but you know it has to be me.”

He looked at you with so much hurt in his eyes that you would have thought you stabbed him. He shook his head violently, trembling hands pushing harder against your wound and making you let out a sound way too close to a whine. You thought at least. The ringing in your ears was getting louder and the world was losing its colours… or was it like this the whole time, on this planet? You couldn’t remember…

Yet, you would swear that a crack in his conviction appeared on his face, one he swiftly disguised and shook off, determination replacing it as he fought the tears streaming down his face. You felt nothing but relief when you realized he started accepting the truth, started accepting what was happening. What had to happen.

“No. No, that’s not true.”

Your next words tasted bitter and dripped venom, but you said them anyway, a harsh reminder of your first goodbye. You hated yourself for speaking them; however, Steve had to understand.

“We’re out of time, Steve,” you mumbled, your tongue growing heavy, funny taste on it. “We’re always out of time.”

“Please, doll, not again, I can’t-“ The way he choked on his sob told you your shot found its target, the memory crushing his hope, slowly, but surely forcing him to resign. The calm you had felt when you arrived here returned, embracing you gently and you hoped your attempt at smile turned out decent.

“You can. You’re the brave-“ You hissed in pain as you wanted to straighten yourself just a bit, to be closer to him, instantly regretting not asking Steve to move you instead. Fuck, that hurt. “-bravest person I’ve ever met.”

“That’s bullshit-” he spitted out, but he helped you sit up straighter, allowing you to nearly drown in the pools of his irises.

God, he was so beautiful, even in his grief, eyes red-rimmed, his nose running. He was yours. Always yours, you knew as much.

“My hero-“

“I’m not a Captain for while, you know,” he chucked humourlessly, a glint of something you didn’t like displaying on his face. “Just let me take you-“

“Not the Captain,” you shook your head, lamenting yourself for muddling it up. Calling him your hero was a bad, very bad idea. But you couldn’t think anymore, your head was buzzing with too many thoughts, wrapped in sensation of endless pain radiating from your gut. “You, S-s-stevie. Now let me go.”

“NO!”

“If I d-die before-re you throw m-me-“ you negotiated, only to be interrupted by the creature you had completely forgotten was there as well.

“She’s right,” the Red Skull confirmed flatly.

“SHUT THE FUCK UP!” Steve roared, not bothering to look at him as he gathered you in his arms, not without a serious wave of vertigo on your part. And pain. Fuck, always pain. Being stabbed fucking hurt.

He only stood, torn between the tinniest chance at your survival and doing the right thing. It was ridiculous and disgusting how much it reminded you of your first goodbye. Left, or right door? You or millions, this time?

“Doll-“

“’s okay, Stevie. I love you. Al-always. Br-- the edge. ‘d let go,” you breathed out, your words slurring as you were losing control. He must throw you soon. That sucked. You would like few more moments with him.

Or a lifetime. Kisses, cuddles, playful lovemaking, friends and kids… maybe you could adopt, or just keep trying…

Steve’s features twisted in denial, jaw clenched, but it did nothing to disguise the tremble in it. His eyes were squeezed shut, glittering drops of salty water escaping, your own waterfalls never stopping. You clenched your teeth with effort to raise your hand, bloody fingers caressing his smooth cheek.

“’s ‘kay.”

He shook his head desperately, but his grip grew firmer, his steps heavy as he carried you to the edge as if he was about to meet his own end.

You swallowed your own sobs.

You didn’t want to die. You wished you could say you were at peace, you had thought you were but you weren’t. Yet, you needed to convince Steve about the opposite – again.

Life was so fucking unfair.

If that was true though… was at least death just?

Your eyes flickered to the terrible chasm, vertigo taking over once more at the image of just how long the fall would last.

Endless seconds of free fall.

But it wouldn’t be the fall that would kill you, would it now? It would be the landing.

It was always the landing.

Hovering above the edge in Steve’s arms, his eyes turned up towards the colourful sky, as if he was trying to keep his tears at bay or simply couldn’t look at you. Seconds felt like hours. Like forever, even. It was obvious he couldn’t make himself let go.

Jesus fucking Christ, how could he, after all? You wouldn’t if in his place, your roles reversed.

“Down-“ you muttered lowly and he instantly obeyed with his gaze returning to you.

The gaze he focused on you would always be carved into your memory, even in death, you had no doubt. You never knew a man could say so much about the agony that was tearing him apart with one look, but here he was. Your Steve.

When he kneeled, lowering your body to the ground, his hold slacking a fraction, you knew it was time. You forced another teary smile, lips quivering, no longer able to tell if it was from pain, the cold seeping into your bones and core or simple fear.

What was waiting at the bottom? More pain or something else? Maybe the peace, finally? How would you be able to rest in peace though, knowing you were leaving Steve behind?

“S-so good t-to me,” you breathed out shakily, memorizing every feature, every wrinkle of laughter and worry, even as the darkness started eating out the edges of your vision. You needed to go, now. You gathered the last remnants of strength, bracing yourself. “Love ya’.”

Propping your palms against his chest, you pushed away from him, the feeling of the sudden lack of ground under your body dizzying.

Wind slapped your cheeks, freezing the tears in your eyes and cutting through the wound.

The gale carried Steve’s broken scream to your ears and you sent him one last whispered sorry.

The fall seemed to have no end. But for once, God was truly merciful; you didn’t feel the landing.

༻༺༻༺༻ღ༺༻༺༻༺

Seeing their past selves was strange to say at least and Natasha mused how long of a path they had all walked since the first assemble of the Avengers.

In a way, it carried hope too though. She had buried hope for her soulmate and lost friends a long time ago; but now it was back. They had retrieved the Stones from New York relatively smoothly – though Clint had got a bit perplexed at having his soul punched out of his body by the Sorcerer Supreme – and were on their way back to their time.

This mission was a pretty ambitious stretch from Budapest. She had told so to Clint and found herself honestly smiling at his burst of laughter after years of mourning. Some lives had been ruined, but others still remained; and the chances that what they had lost in the dust could be brought back had concrete outlines now; outlines visible on her own skin as well. Her chest ached, but her heart fluttered with the memory of her soulmate.

Her feet landed on the platform with a rather ungraceful thud, but she still managed to keep herself standing upright. One glance around was all she spent to check up on everyone; only to find two people missing.

Blood froze in her veins, the satisfied smile at completed mission slipping from her face as her heart changed its pace from excited to horrified.

No.

No, this was not how this was supposed to go! Everyone should have come back!

So why was one whole pair missing? Why-

Strangely enough, her horror only escalated when she noticed that it was in fact one person missing only; because the other was on the platform with them, closer to the ground that she had expected, stripped of the nano-suit, stealth suit darker as it was dripping water; pink as it mixed with crimson stains on his thighs and torso.

No.

Oh no.

This was not happening. It couldn’t. Not again.

Steve had fallen to his knees, hands by his side clenched in tight fists. Blankly staring ahead, not actually seeing anything in front of him, a smudge of red – three lines clearly drawn by bloody fingertips – on his cheek and his face free of any colour and emotion telling enough of a story; screaming a story, in fact.

Natasha’s insides twisted painfully and she nearly spilled the contents of her stomach. She recognized that look – she had seen it before on Steve. On herself in a mirror.

Tears stinging in her eyes, she took a shaky step towards him, her heart weeping and grieving for her friends.

“…Steve?” Bruce questioned lowly from behind the machine he had controlled, but it only filled the deadly silence.

They all already knew what happened – or understood enough.

The Stone giving away warm amber glow slipped from Steve’s palm, his fingers plunging in his hair and gripping tightly, pulling enough to make it hurt like hell no doubt.

Yet, Natasha was well-aware it did nothing to dull the deep visceral pain that overtook his whole being, swallowed his whole shattered soul.

A guttural moan left his lips as he curled into himself and she didn’t bother blinking away her tears anymore.

Nothing she could do would sooth his grief. Yet, she placed her trembling palm on Steve’s shoulder in attempt to ground him, to show him she was there for him.

A desperate shriek, a helpless cry loud enough to tear ear-drums and hearts, cut the thick air of the compound and the large frame of a supersoldier went limp, swaying aside.

Natasha didn’t try and stop the fall. God knew that he would be falling for too long anyway.

The fucked-up thing about this kind of fall was that the landing, the only thing that could bring relief, would never come.

༻༺༻༺༻ღ༺༻༺༻༺

Epilogue

༻༺༻༺༻ღ༺༻༺༻༺

HOLD THE FIRE!

If you don’t kill me, you might get an epilogue, you know? One you might actually like. Just SAYING!

Also, thank you for reading :-*

#fanfiction #steve rogers x reader #soulmate au #marvel #supernatural #steve rogers soulmate #steve rogers #captain america #steve rogers x you #captain america x you #captain america imagine #steve rogers imagine #mcu x spn #spn x mcu #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers fanfic #winsod #anika ann

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snowdice · 3 years

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Big Bang (Sort of) Editing Story [Day 58]

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

My Master Post Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20 Part 21 Part 22 Part 23 Part 24 Part 25 Part 26

Wow I am tired and have a headache, but also I have to get my grading in by tomorrow so...

If I get too miserable, I may stop abruptly and get up early to finish it in the morning.

Chapter 27

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Patton frowned sympathetically. “Too loud?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I know, ma’am.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Okay,” she said. “Well, I’m going to have a few more specific questions, but let’s just start with what are your favorite foods?”

“I’ll eat anything,” Virgil replied immediately.

“He really likes chicken alfredo,” Patton contributed.

Virgil perked up at the name of the food. “I did like that,” he agreed.

“Alright,” Ms. Heart replied. That’s a start.

Chapter 28

Thomas did not have to be told that something had gotten Helen Heart in a tizzy. He could tell just by the amount of food she had sent up on his dinner tray. She always made and pushed more food when she was stressed, and he couldn’t help but chuckle when he found both a hearty serving of roast beef and a mini chicken pot pie on his plate along with three vegetable side dishes and a side of macaroni and cheese.

He could also guess what had happened to illicit such a response. Thomas had caught up to Jeffers Deknis in his garden and they’d spoken at length about Logan and Patton’s new friend.

There was no way that after said discussion, Jeff had not mentioned Virgil (and more importantly his friendship with Patton) to Helen during their daily gossip sessions. There was also no way that Helen had heard the words “child” and “too small” in a sentence and hadn’t flipped. From there the inevitable sequence of events was clear: Patton went home, Helen talked his ear off until he agreed to bring Virgil to meet her, Helen met him and immediately committed herself to making sure he ate three square meals a day as well as multiple snacks.

Thomas had sussed all of that out before the kitchen worker bringing him his dinner had mentioned what had happened that day.

That in mind, he decided to wait until after dinner should have been cleaned up before walking his own dinner leftovers down to the kitchens.

Thomas was unsurprised to see Jeff already in the kitchen. He was sat at a small table off to the side where kitchen workers usually took their breaks. The only person other than Jeff and Helen left in the kitchen was a dishwasher who was finishing up. Helen usually spent a couple of hours after dinner in her kitchen or her office organizing for the next day and in case anyone needed food on an off hour, and then there was a night cook who would take over so she could go back to her set of rooms.

Helen took the tray of leftovers from Thomas herself and shooed the dishwasher out of the way. “I’ll handle the rest myself,” she told the girl. “You can leave.”

She nodded and started to take her apron off. Helen dumped the tray on the counter without care and turned back around to usher Thomas into one of the kitchen chairs. Thomas went willingly and she turned to fill the tea kettle with water and set it on the stove.

“It take it she met Virgil,” Thomas said to Jeff.

“She’s adopted Virgil,” Jeff replied, taking a bite out of a cookie.

“And what of it?” she asked. “Someone obviously needs to feed the boy. Speaking of, you’re grounding your son by the way.”

Thomas took one of the cookies for himself. “Why am I grounding Logan?” he asked.

“He was worried enough about his health to make him a nutrition potion, but still did not bring him to me,” she harrumphed.

“I see,” Thomas replied.

“In Logan’s defense,” Jeff interrupted. “the boy seems rather timid. He may have worried about you scaring him off.”

Helen slapped him with a dishtowel.

“Actually,” Jeff continued. “From what I’ve gathered he didn’t have contact with anyone since the time I saw him a couple of weeks ago until now.”

“Any adults,” Thomas corrected with a frown. “I’m pretty sure he, Patton, and Logan must have been around each other considering how close they already seem to be.” He paused, “Logan implied he wasn’t particularly… comfortable around adults.”

“I did get that impression, yes,” Helen said, pouring the hot water from the kettle into a tea pot and carrying it and some cups over to the table.

“He was incredibly jumpy,” Jeff confirmed. “I imagine he does not have good experiences with many people, but he seems to have grown attached to Logan and Patton. He defers to them in most things and seemed a bit protective.

“Where did he come from?” Thomas asked.

“I’m not sure,” Jeff said. “I found him hiding in the garden shed a couple of weeks ago.”

“Did he sneak in?” Thomas asked.

“That’s what I would have thought,” Jeff replied, “but when I asked, he said he wasn’t trying to steal anything and that he was supposed to be in the castle. So, I’d assumed that meant he was the child of someone living in the caste.”

“But neither of us could find anyone who knew him,” Helen said. “Of course, we didn’t even know his name until now.” She seemed to decide the tea leaves had sat long enough because she started to pour them each a cup of tea.

Thomas took a sip. “Earl Grey,” he commented. “I guess I’m not sleeping much tonight.” It was her ‘planning tea.’

“We need a plan,” she said, “but we’re going to have to be gentle.”

“At least with Virgil,” Jeff said.

Thomas laughed lightly, “and what do you plan to do with the other two?”

“I have my ways.”

Helen rolled her eyes. “You say that,” she said, “but you’re too soft. The two of them learned to run circles around you and your powers years ago.”

“We should talk to them though,” Thomas said. “Separately from Virgil.”

“We should,” Helen agreed. “I already spoke to Patton a bit yesterday, but I will again. We should see if we can ask around and find out why he’s in the castle. We don’t even know how long he’s lived here. Or who brought him here.” The look on her face told Thomas she wanted to have a talk with his guardians whoever and wherever they were.

Helen took a drink of tea, it seemed to calm herself. “We need to make sure whatever has been happening to him is not happening in these walls,” she said.

Thomas had honestly… not thought about that. He’d assumed whatever made Virgil so skittish was in the past, but it was possible that it was ongoing. The thought made him sick.

“Perhaps you should try to talk to him, Thomas,” Helen suggested.

Thomas winced. “I am not sure that is a good idea...”

“Why not?”

“We don’t have the best track record… I don’t think me being around him would be a good idea.”

“Oh, please, Thomas,” Helen said disbelievingly.

“No, you don’t understand,” Thomas said. “He seems disproportionately afraid of me. I think it’s a mix of me being king and how we met.”

“How did you meet?” Helen asked.

“I… gave him a bit of a fright,” Thomas admitted. “Logan and Patton weren’t in the room and I didn’t know who he was. He… ended up under the bed. Then… the second time I saw him he accidently ran into me. He freaked out again.” The memory still made Thomas feel gross. It also made him think there was a lot more to his backstory than the three of them understood.

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“Perhaps Jeff can try to talk to him then,” Helen said. “It sounds like he was calmest around you. I’ll push Patton towards taking him to the garden more often. I bet fresh air would do him some good anyway.”

Jeff nodded. “I will try to talk to him a bit more.”

“Great,” Helen said, but Thomas already knew the conversation wasn’t over. “Now we need to talk about strategic events to throw over the next few months that Patton and Logan to invite Virgil to. We’ll start slow, but we need to make sure he feels welcome in the castle.”

Thomas met Jeff’s eyes. Yeah, it was going to be a long night.

Chapter 29

Virgil finished eating the breakfast Patton’s mom had sent for him. It had been going on a week since she’d made the menu for him. She sent up little cards with each meal and he was supposed to rate each thing she sent on a scale from 1-5. Logan would read it to him before he ate, and Virgil mark the little box on the card. Usually, he would put a 4 for everything (he had tried to do 5, but Logan had told him 5 was reserved for things like chicken alfredo). Three was for things that he was neutral on, 2 was for things he didn’t like but could tolerate, and 1 was for things he didn’t like. So far, the only 3 was the unseasoned porridge she’d sent one day.

“Finished?” Logan asked.

“Yeah,” Virgil said.

“What would you like to do today?” Logan asked. “Patton is busy until after lunch, and then we thought you might like to go back to the garden again. It’s supposed to drop in temperature over the next few days, so it will be the last good day for it.”

“Sounds good,” Virgil said. “I don’t care what we do today though.”

“Well, there are a few options,” Logan said.

“What do you want to do?” Virgil asked.

Logan made an expression, and Virgil titled his head. “I’m don’t have anything in particular I want to do,” he said.

“You’re lying,” Virgil said immediately.

“You would not be interested in the activity I wish to partake in,” Logan said.

Virgil squinted at him. “I’d be interested in laying on the ground and staring at the ceiling.”

Logan chuckled. “No, truly. The activity I would do if you were not present would involve reading.”

“You can read to me,” Virgil suggested.

“…In Sanskrit.”

Virgil frowned at him. “Isn’t that, like, some sort of dead language?”

“It is,” Logan said. “I taught myself to read it to read a specific book called the Pragilium Text. It’s an encoded book that leads to a magical location that I have been trying to decode for years.”

“That’s fine,” Virgil said. “You can do that.”

“It would be in the library,” Logan said.

“Okay.”

“But…” Logan said. “It would in no way be interesting to you.”

Virgil shrugged. “Like I said. I’m content to lie on the floor for a few hours.”

Logan frowned. “I can’t make you do that.”

“You wouldn’t be making me,” Virgil said. “I want to go. Maybe you can find me an easy book I could try to read?”

“Are you certain?” he asked.

Virgil nodded, decisively.

“Very well, get dressed and I will show you the library.”

Virgil stood to do so and a few minutes later, Logan was leading him out of the royal wing.

Both of the guards greeted him kindly, and Virgil hunched his shoulders in a bit, but said a soft “hi.”

The library didn’t end up being too far away. It was through the small dining hall and to the left where the staircase to the kitchen was to the right.

“This is not the main library,” Logan said. “It is just a smaller one. The royal librarian comes here only about once a week to organize. Some other castle residents might come in too, but it is usually mostly empty.” Virgil could tell just by listening for a few seconds that the place was likely empty (unless someone was lying in wait).

“I’ll look and see if there is something simple for you in case you’d like to read. You can explore a bit if you’d like,” Logan said.

Virgil nodded and stalked off into the shelves to secure the area. There were many books, not that he could quite read any of the spines. The bookcases were mostly cramped into the space. There was the open area where they’d come in with a few comfy chairs and Virgil found a desk near one of the windows. It had stacks of books including one pretty large and old one. He looked at it curiously.

Virgil heard Logan’s footsteps approach from down an aisle. “That’s the Pragilium text,” he said.

“It’s pretty,” Virgil said, looking at the design etched into the cover.

“Yes,” Logan agreed. He reached forward to touch it and opened it carefully. The print was small and didn’t look like the letters Logan had taught him so far. There was a small map on the side that Virgil could at least guess at the meaning of.

“You can read that?” Virgil asked.

“I can,” Logan said. “Very few people can though.”

“Wow, you’re really smart.”

“Thank you,” Logan said with a smile.

“Now,” Logan continued. “I found you a book. I apologize as its subject matter is for younger children, but it has many pictures that can help give you context when you don’t know something. You don’t have to read it if you do not wish to, especially as we haven’t gotten very far in our lessons, but I thought you might like the challenge.

He handed him the book and Virgil took it with a smile. “I’ll try to read it,” he said.

“Well, you have free reign of the library. Feel free to continue to explore and to interrupt me if you need to.”

Virgil nodded and took the book before deciding to finish his sweep of the library. It turned out that appearances were not deceiving, and the library truly was empty. Once he was certain about that, he looked around for a comfortable place to settle down and try to read the book Logan had handed him. He found a sturdy looking bookshelf near where Logan was reading at his desk. He scaled it quickly. It was a little bit dusty at the top, but it wasn’t a bad place. It was close to the ceiling and kept him hidden pretty well, but still gave him enough room to pop up onto his elbows. If he looked left, he could see Logan down bellow with his head in the book, but if he looked right, he could see the entrance to the library.

He pulled the book in front of him and looked at the cover. It was covered in drawings of different colored flowers. One simple white flower was in the center and there were three words on the cover. He squinted at it and silently tried to sound it out based on what Logan had taught him so far. He could guess that the larger word was ‘flowers’ based on context. So, he was pretty sure it read How Flowers Grow.

He flipped open the book. Logan was right, there were many hand drawn beautiful pictures. He could pretty much understand what was happening just from them even if he couldn’t read all of the words.

It was an interesting book even if he couldn’t read it and it was obviously made for small children. Judging by the pictures it seemed to be detailing how plants, or at least, flowers grew through some kid planting and caring for a flower over the course of some amount of time.

Virgil had, of course, known flowers grew from seeds, but it was interesting to see things about how the stem would pop out of the seed in the ground and things about the roots growing.

He more looked through the pictures than read it the first time but had flipped back to the front to try to read the words when he heard the library door open.

Virgil perked up in awareness, but then settled when he recognized Patton’s footsteps. Virgil tilted his head to watch as he walk directly to Logan’s hideaway.

“Hi,” he said, gaining Logan’s attention.

“Hello, Patton,” Logan replied. He glanced at the window and must have seen that time had passed because he closed his book and shuffled his papers.

“The guards said you came here,” Patton said, glancing around. “Where’s Virgil?”

Instead of letting Logan answer that question, Virgil pulled himself forward, with the book in one hand and slid off the bookshelf to land lightly on his feet next to Patton.

Patton screamed before slapping a hand over his mouth.

Logan had placed his hand over his heart. “Where on Earth did you come from?” he asked.

Virgil blinked at him and then pointed to the bookshelf he’d been on top of.

“How long were you up there?” Logan asked.

“Pretty much the whole time,” Virgil answered.

“I…” Logan said. “I didn’t even know.”

Virgil squinted at him. “You need to learn to look up.”

Patton giggled.

Virgil turned on him. “You need to learn to case the area.”

“Oh honey, your shirt is all covered in dust,” Patton said instead of responding to his very valid criticism. Virgil frowned. “Let’s get you changed and then go grab some lunch.”

“Lunch?” Virgil asked.

Patton chuckled and grabbed his hand. “Yes, sweetie, lunch. Then garden.”

“Fine,” Virgil said. “But you do need to learn to be more observant.

“Yes, yes, whatever you say,” Patton said.

Logan just rolled his eyes.

Chapter 30

After lunch, Patton and Logan took Virgil out into the garden to walk around. They let Virgil lead them around wherever he wanted to in the garden. A bunch more flowers had died since the last time they’d been out here, and Patton felt sad despite having never felt very sad about that sort of thing before. But, Virgil seemed to really like the flower he’d found last time, so Patton thought he was probably sad on the boy’s behalf.

Of course, Patton thought, perking up, eventually it would be spring, and Virgil could get to not only see flowers but see all of the flowers grow. Patton couldn’t wait to see him amongst the garden then.

Virgil took them wandering through the orchard for a while, but most of the trees had been stripped of their fruits. They ended up in the food garden after a bit, and Virgil finally seemed to decide on the direction instead of just ambling about.

A few seconds after Patton noticed Virgil seemingly decide on a destination, Patton noticed Mr. Deknis kneeling on the ground a few feet away. Had… had Virgil been looking for him? Patton wondered. That was adorable.

Mr. Deknis looked up as they approached and smiled at them.

“Hello, Mr. Deknis,” Patton said as they came closer.

“Hello you three,” Mr. Deknis said. “Getting into trouble?”

“No,” Virgil said, shaking his head.

Mr. Deknis gave him a flash of a smile. “I know, I’m joking,” he said. “Especially since there isn’t much left in my gardens for certain princes to destroy with experiments.”

“Oh, okay,” Virgil said. He tilted his head. “What are you doing?”

“I’m getting the last of the acorn squash out,” Mr. Deknis replied. “It’s the last crop to get finished. Good thing too, it’s supposed to start snowing soon.”

Virgil looked down curiously at the dark green squash.

“Would you like to help me pick a couple?” Mr. Deknis asked.

“Sure,” Virgil said, sounding interested. Mr. Deknis patted the ground beside him and Virgil knelt down to watch him.

“They’re not too difficult to harvest,” he said. “You just cut the fruit off the stem. You want to leave about a hand’s width of the stem left over which will help preserve moisture. The earlier harvests, I left in the field to cure in the sun for a couple weeks, but the frost’ll ruin them so we’ll take them inside the green house and let them sit in the sun for a bit there. We also want to keep the leaves. You’ll probably be eating those for dinner tonight since they have to be cooked up within about 24 hours after they’re picked. Patton’s mom makes a good side dish with them and she’ll be making some curry tomorrow, probably. Maybe some stew if there are some leftover.”

“Put the squash in this wheelbarrow and the leaves into this pile, okay?” Virgil nodded and Mr. Deknis handed him the extra pair of gloves and shears he carried with him in case one set broke. “These might be a bit big on your, but they should work for now.”

Mr. Deknis looked up at Patton and Logan. “Would the two of you like to help?” he asked. “I can get some more equipment.”

“I can help out if you want, but you don’t need to stop and get more equipment just for me,” Patton said.

“The same for me,” Logan said.

“Well, if you’d like to help still, you can sort the leave. Give your mother a head start.”

“Sure,” Patton said. He and Logan went to do that while Mr. Deknis and Virgil worked on cutting the squashes from the vine.

“What do you do during the winter?” Virgil asked curiously. “If this is your last crop.”

“Well, at the beginning, I mostly will be working on making sure things are stored correctly along with some of the kitchen staff. There’s some drying to do and some canning. After that’s done, I’ll spend some time organizing and planning. Then, before the spring comes, I’ll start preparing seedlings in the green house.”

“Seedlings?” he asked.

“I let seeds start to grow in the greenhouse that I replant once it gets warm enough.”

“Why don’t you just plant them where they’re going?”

“I do for some,” he said, “but giving some a head start is good for them.”

Patton watched as Virgil continued to ask questions about gardening while working on harvesting the squash. Mr. Deknis continued to answer them in a calm, soft tone that Patton didn’t think he’d ever heard from the often gruff man before.

Patton wasn’t surprised when, after finishing getting most of the squash off of the vine, Mr. Deknis asked if Virgil wanted to help him with canning some pears in a couple of days. Virgil immediately looked over at Logan and Patton as though asking permission.

“Say yes if you want to Virgil,” Logan said.

“Yes,” Virgil said as soon as he was given permission. Mr. Deknis smiled at him softly and started loading the last of the squash into the wheelbarrow. Patton offered to run the squash leaves to the kitchen while Logan and Virgil helped Mr. Deknis take the actual squash to the green house.

He dropped the leaves off to a kitchen worker since Mama was busy and headed back out to the garden. By the time he returned, Logan was already back from the green house and sitting by one of the more decorative trees near the castle.

“He’s exploring,” Logan said, nodding at the large patch of bushes.

Patton chuckled. “I see.” He sat next to Logan. Every so often he’d hear the bushes rustle, but he couldn’t tell if it was actually Virgil or an animal.

“He’s adorable,” Patton commented, keeping an ear out.

Logan hummed.

“I’m glad we kept him.”

“He isn’t a pet, Patton.”

Patton rolled his eyes. “I know, but I’m still glad. I’m glad he’s making friends with Mr. Deknis. Once he knows how to read better, we should get him a book about gardening. He seems interested.”

Logan nodded. “Having a hobby would be good for him. Clearly he has a fascination with the garden.” He nodded to the blur of dark hair that could be seen through the bushes. It seemed Virgil had stopped his exploration and was now laying down in the bushes a few feet away.

“I’m going to go see what he’s doing,” Patton said. “I’ll be right back.”

Logan nodded and Patton got to his feet. The bushes were part of a small maze that was filled with flowers during the spring and summer months but were mostly just green and brown bushes for now. Despite the fact that Patton had been able to see him only a few feet away, it took him a while to wind through the path to where he was. When he finally turned the last corner and he came into view, Patton gasped softly.

“Ghost kitty!” he said, making sure to make his voice as quiet as possible.

Despite how soft he made his voice, two pairs of eyes shot over to him. The completely black kitten was perched on Virgil’s lap like she belonged there. Ghost Kitty hissed slightly, but Virgil reached forward to pet her head gently.

“This is Ghost Kitty?” Virgil asked. “I thought you said she was hard to pet.”

“She is,” Patton said. He lowered himself onto the ground from a few feet away from them. “How did you get her to come to you?”

Virgil glanced down at the cat and shrugged, scratching one of her ears. “She just came over to me and let me pet her.”

“Wow,” Patton said softly. He looked at the cat. “Could I pet you sweetie?” he asked, holding out a hand in her direction. She hissed again.

Virgil frowned down at her. “It’s Patton,” he said as though he expected to understand his words and the exasperation in the tone he said them in.

He pet the cat’s head to soothe her and then reached over to grab Patton’s hand. He pulled and Patton carefully leaned a bit closer until his hand was within sniffing distance. Ghost Kitty sniffed his fingers contemplatively and then bumped her head against it. He barely restrained a squeal, knowing that probably wouldn’t be taken well.

He carefully turned his hand over so he could stroke the top of her head. He gently scratched her ear, not daring to go for under her chin yet since she didn’t know him well. “Hi,” he said softly. After a moment, she started to purr softly. Virgil reached over and scratched under her chin and she purred louder. “Oh, you’re a good girl,” Patton breathed, letting a hand trail gently down her back once and then again. Patton settled himself carefully into a seating position continuing to pet her. After a few more moments of soft petting, she hesitantly stepped her front paws onto Patton’s thigh so she was sitting in both of their laps. Patton laughed softly. “Hi sweetie.” He glanced over at Virgil who had a wide smile on his face as he pet the cat. This. This was adorable. They continued to pet the cat for a very long time.

Chapter 31

Logan waited for a while after Patton left to check on Virgil, but the two never resurfaced. It was odd, Patton would usually remember to come back and get Logan or at least tell them where they were. With a sigh, Logan climbed to his feet to go find them. It took him a while to weave his way through the maze of bushes to them especially because they were suspiciously quiet (Well, suspicious for Patton. Virgil was often unnervingly quiet when alone.) Luckily, he knew the bushes enough after all of these years not to get lost and managed to find the two after a few minutes.

“Ah,” he said, immediately identifying the reason for Patton disappearing.

“Logan!” Patton said, his voice excited, but also quieter than normal. “We found a kitty!”

“I can see that,” Logan responded, taking a step closer. The cat hissed at him in response. The hissing was so intense and wild that he’d suspect the thing was feral if it wasn’t happily on Virgil’s lap having had it’s head in Patton’s lap before Logan had approached.

“No,” Virgil told the animal as though it could understand words. “That’s Logan. Be nice.”

The cat still glared at him and swished it’s tail back and forth threateningly. Virgil pet the top of it’s head and it broke eye contact with Logan to purr.

Patton seemed delighted by the purring, reaching to stroke under the thing’s chin carefully. “We should give her a name!” Patton said.

Virgil frowned. “I thought her name was Ghost Kitty.”

“That is ‘Ghost Kitty’?” Logan asked skeptically. From what Patton had said about that cat, it was terrified of people and no one could ever get near it, even him. Now it was in Virgil’s lap?

“But that was a temporary name,” Patton said, “for before we officially met her. Now we have to give her a real name.”

“Do not give it a name,” Logan said. “You will get attached.”

“How do you name a cat?” Virgil asked.

“Do not name it,” Logan said.

“You give them names based on their personalities, how they look, or even just because it’s a cute name,” Patton explained. “Like, remember Mittens? I named her Mittens because she has white fur and black paws!”

Virgil looked at the cat. “She’s completely black,” he said.

Patton hummed. “So, we could give her a name based on that like Midnight or Shadow.”

“Those are fine,” Virgil said.

“No, no,” Patton said. “I’m just giving you examples. You get to name her yourself.”

“This is a bad idea,” Logan said.

“Just throw out some names,” Patton said. “Anything you can think of.”

“Uh,” Virgil said. “Knife.”

“…Just Knife?” Patton asked.

“Nightmare.” Virgil seemed to think about it. “No, that’s mean.”

“How about things you like?” Patton suggested.

“Alfredo?”

Oh no, Logan thought, he was worse than Patton at cat naming.

“Good start,” Patton said. “Logan, do you have any suggestions.”

“Cat,” Logan said.

“Real suggestions,” Patton scolded.

Logan sighed and thought for a moment. “Aphrodite.”

“Catphrodite!”

Logan glared at him. “Helena.”

“Helenpaw.”

“Claudia.”

“Clawdia.”

“Persephone.”

Patton smiled at him, cheerfully.

“…Damnit!”

Patton turned to Virgil again. “Like that! They don’t even have to be serious. Like, uh, you could name her Madam Fluffywuffykins the Great!”

“Do not name her that,” Logan said, scrunching up his nose.

Logan sat on the ground, the cat eyeing him, but no longer hissing. Logan gently guided them towards more sensible names despite Patton trying his hardest to drag them into stupidity.

Virgil still didn’t quite get it. He mostly tried to name it after foodstuff, and often not even appropriate foodstuff such as “Corn” and “Acorn Squash” and “Sandwich” and occasionally would drop in semi violent ones such as “Razor,” “Nightshade” and “Void.” Patton suggested names like “Fluffers,” “Bobette” and “Darling” as well as some that were puns. Logan tried to direct them towards more sensible ones like “Salem” and even went so low as to suggest the contrary “Snowball.”

It quickly seemed to become less about actually naming the cat and more of a game. Patton had taught Virgil about playing with cats and had even gotten out a ball of yarn he cared around for his crafts. Both Virgil and the cat seemed to find endless entertainment with that. Logan hoped Patton had another ball of yarn that color because, he was never going to get that ball back.

The barrage of names fizzled out into naming things around them like “Leaf” and “Bush” until they stopped suggesting names altogether. Patton and Logan sat back and watched Virgil play with the cat.

Logan watched as they stopped playing suddenly and Virgil and the cat squinted at each other. “Marisol,” Virgil said, pulling the name out of nowhere. “That’s her name.” He said it with a certainty that was surprising considering how he’d treated the naming process with confusion and caution earlier. If Logan did not know better, his tone of voice would indicate that the cat, or Marisol he guessed, had gotten bored of them coming up with stupid names and decided to tell him her actual name herself.

The cat made a sound and batted at Virgil’s face without claws to grab back his attention.

He turned back to it and bopped its face with a finger in kind. It attacked his finger, but in a clearly playful matter as it still did not extend it’s claws and its teeth did not draw blood.

“That’s a great name, Virgil,” Patton said.

“Much more pleasant than any that Patton suggested all afternoon,” Logan said. He received an elbow to the side for his quip.

“A pretty name for a pretty kitty,” Patton said, scooting over to where Virgil was sat and attempting to pet Marisol’s head. Marisol, however, was too keyed up and batted at the hand.

“I love you too!” Patton said.

Logan rolled his eyes, but he had long since resigned himself to watching the two of them play with and coo over the cat for the rest of the day.

Eventually, though, it started to get darker. Even after Logan pointed this out, it still took over an hour for them to relent and leave the bush maze to go to the door. The problem was of course, that the cat had managed to grow very attached to Virgil in the last few hours and she followed them all the way to the door with manipulatively heart breaking mews.

“You’ve got to stay out here,” Virgil said, when they got to the castle door. He pet her ear softly and she shoved her head into his hand. “I’m sorry. I don’t have anywhere to put you.” He sounded horribly sad about that fact and Logan felt himself shift uncomfortably. “I basically live in a closet and Logan doesn’t like cats in his room anyway.”

Logan immediately felt unreasonably guilty, probably more so because Logan did not think Virgil was trying to make him feel guilty. “…Bring the dammed thing inside.”

Virgil blinked up at him. “What?”

“It will get cold soon anyway,” Logan said.

He frowned at Logan from where he was crouched. “But you don’t like fur in your room…”

“I will have to find a potion that works,” he said with a sigh, “and we’ll have to say it’s mine to the guards and Father since it will be staying in my room, but it is yours in every other way. That means you are going to feed it, clean it, and clean up after it.”

Virgil nodded immediately and swooped Marisol up in his arms. The cat went without complaint. “Thank you!” he said. “I love her.”

“I know you do,” Logan said, already regretting it already. Yet, he couldn’t bring himself to even consider recanting the offer considering how happy Virgil seemed to be. They had a cat now, he guessed.

Chapter 32

“What are you doing?” Helen asked a few minutes after her son walked into the kitchen and started looking around as though he were trying to find something. It was a few hours into the afternoon, and she and a few workers were already prepping for dinner.

“Uh,” Patton said. “Have you seen Virgil?”

“No,” Helen said. “Why.”

“Er… Logan and I sorta, lost him,” Patton said. He was wringing his hands anxiously. Helen put down the knife in her hand.

“What do you mean you lost him?” she asked.

“Well, see, we were trying to teach him how to play hide and seek, um, but then we didn’t think to tell him that he eventually had to come out if we didn’t find him, and now we haven’t seen him since breakfast.”

“He didn’t know what tag is?” she asked. That was just one more thing to add to the list of why Helen worried about Virgil and where he came from. Every morsel of information she’d managed to wring from Patton despite his evasions made her lists of concerns grow larger, even little things like him not knowing about simple childhood games. Actually, thinking of concerning things having to do with Virgil. “Wait, so he hasn’t eaten lunch.”

“Um, we don’t know that,” Patton’s mouth said while his eyes said ‘no.’

“He needs to be on a consistent diet, especially when he’s still taking the malnutrition potion,” she scolded.

“I know, Mama, I know,” Patton said. “I’m trying to find him. I’d kinda hoped he’d gotten hungry and snuck down here. He probably wouldn’t want to risk being caught stealing food though.”

Helen grimaced. Yet another concerning thing.

“Wait! I have an idea, I’ll be right back.” Patton turned and ran out of the room. Helen frowned at the space he’d been and finished chopping the carrot on the cutting board in front of her. If it had been any other person in the castle missing, Helen wouldn’t have worried, but she had literally never seen Virgil without Patton and/or Logan by his side. Even when he’d gone to help Jeff can some fruit, Logan had reportedly hung around to read a book.

Considering that Logan had never exactly been clingy even with Patton, she imagined that either Virgil asked, or Logan thought he should stay with him for his comfort. So, she was surprised that he was apparently hidden away somewhere in the castle where neither of the other kids could find him.

Still thinking about this, she walked over to the entrance to the cellar below the kitchen where they stored most of the vegetables, planning to grab some more carrots. She was confused for a moment when she heard movement from deeper in the pantry. She reached over and touched the panel near the door that controlled the magic lights.

The newly illuminated figure startled as the lights came on, whipping around to stare at her with wide eyes.

“Virgil?” she asked.

“Sorry,” he said immediately, taking a step back.

“It’s fine,” she said immediately, “but what are you doing here?”

He considered her for a long moment, but apparently, she passed some sort of mental test, because he relaxed, at least as much as he’d ever relaxed in her presence. “Where are we?” he asked.

Her brow knit together. “The cellar under the kitchen,” she said, “You don’t know that?”

He shook his head.

“The only entrance is from the kitchen.” Now that she thought about it, she hadn’t seen him go through the kitchen at any point.

“No, it’s not,” Virgil said. “There’s a tunnel.”

“A-a tunnel?” she asked. Actually, taking a closer look at him, he seemed a bit grimy. He had dust all over his front and dirt on his nose. She thought he might even have a couple of cobwebs in his hair.

“Yep,” he said.

“Where’s the tunnel?” she asked.

“It’s right over here,” he said. He took a couple of steps and pointed to the ground. There was an open square hole there that clearly had been made a long time ago but which she had never noticed in all of her time working here.

“How did you find this?” she asked.

“We were playing hide and seek,” Virgil explained. “Logan said I could hide anywhere inside the castle. I hid on top of a dresser upstairs in some unused sitting room. There was a hole in the wall above it, so I climbed into it. Then, I crawled a little bit and it let out into a hidden passage in the walls. I wandered around in it until I found another hole in one of the walls. I thought it was a way out, so I squeezed into it, but it took me to a different hallway where I found an old room. There was a different hole in that room that had probably been covered by something because it was in the floor but whatever it was had rotted away. I crawled though it into a tunnel and came out here.”

She couldn’t help but laugh a bit at his explanation. “Well, it sounds like you went on an adventure,” she said, “but Patton and Logan have been trying to find you. You missed lunch.”

He tilted his head at her. “I know. I was supposed to hide.”

“Yes,” she explained, “but you are supposed to come out at some point if they can’t find you for things like food.”

“Oh,” he said.

“They probably should have explained,” she said. “For now, why don’t we get you something to eat? You must be hungry.”

Virgil frowned. “But I missed lunch.”

“You can still eat even though it’s not in normal hours,” she said. “You could even if you had made it to lunch.”

“Really?” he asked, he looked tragically confused by this offer.

“Of course, sweetie,” she said. “In fact, I insist you get something good to eat right now. How about I made you a grilled ham and cheese sandwich? Maybe some cookies too!”

Virgil titled his head. “You are Patton’s mother,” he stated.

Helen laughed softly. “He gets its all from me,” she said. “We should probably go find him and tell him you’re okay. He was worried.”

“I didn’t mean to worry him,” Virgil said with a frown.

“I know,” Helen said. “It’s okay. He’ll probably laugh when he figures out where you’ve been, and Logan will interrogate you all about the secret passageways.” He seemed happy about the prospect of seeing his friends. “Come on, let’s go upstairs for a bit,” she said.

Chapter 33

Patton’s mom had already made Virgil sit down at the small table in the corner of the kitchen and had handed him a sandwich by the time Patton barreled into the kitchen, Logan coming after him at a more sedate pace.

“Virgil!” he said, sounding surprised and relieved.

“Patton,” Patton’s mom scolded. “No cats in the kitchen.” Patton had brought Marisol in with him and had let her go as soon as he’d seen Virgil. She immediately plodded over to him and hoped onto the table to sniff at his face in greeting.

“But she’s the princess!” Patton argued.

“No,” Logan said.

“Yes, she is!” Patton said.

“The stupid cat is not a princess.”

“Don’t be mean to your little sister, Logan.”

“I regret every life decision that has led me to this point.”

While Logan and Patton were distracted squabbling and Patton’s mom was distracted watching them squabble, Virgil tore off a bit of the ham in his sandwich and offered it to Marisol. Marisol gracefully took it from his grip and ate it.

“So, this is Logan’s new cat I’ve been hearing about?” Patton’s mom asked.

“Indeed,” Logan said, his lips thinned. He and Marisol were mostly amicable when alone with just them and Virgil, but Patton had a habit of cooing over the kitten and needling Logan into being irritated.

“Mmm, yeah,” Patton’s mom said. She glanced over at Virgil right as Marisol basically slammed her face into his chin in a bid to get pets. “Your cat.” She shook her head. “But Princess Kitten or not, I do not want fur in dinner,” she said.

“Sorry,” Patton said, honestly not sounding sorry at all. Virgil was always a bit surprised when the insolent shrug garnered nothing more that a scowl that did not reach Patton’s mom’s eyes. “I thought she could help me find Virgil, but you already found him.” He turned to Virgil. “Where have you been all day?”

“Found a tunnel,” Virgil said. He had to use one hand to hold Marisol back from his sandwich as he took another bite, but then gave her a bite of cheese.

“You found what?” Logan asked.

“There’s a tunnel under the cellar,” Virgil said. “It goes to an old closed up room and also to a set of secret passageways.” It was a bit of a security risk honestly, though clearly no one had used it in years by how dirty it was. He did plan to go back into it and make sure the sprawling tunnels didn’t go to anywhere more dangerous like the royal wing.

“A closed-up room?” Logan said. He could see a bit of curiosity already building in his eyes.

“Yeah,” Virgil said. “Where the door used to be seemed like it had been bricked over.”

“Really? Can you show me.”

“Sure,” Virgil answered.

“Ah, perhaps we should be a bit more cautious about climbing through random tunnels we don’t know the stability of,” Patton’s mom said.

Logan’s frown edged on a pout.

“Talk to your father,” she said. “I’m sure he can get someone who understands these things so you can safely investigate.”

“It was safe enough for Virgil,” Logan pointed out.

“No, Logan.”

He sighed but seemed to concede. That was another strange thing about living here. By all rights Logan didn’t have to obey anyone except the king, but he often listened to those around him, not just the adults but Patton as well. It was interesting though it sometimes made the hierarchy hard to figure out. Virgil did sometimes stress out about the hypothetical situation where he got conflicting orders from two people, and he wouldn’t know which one to obey. So far it hadn’t been a problem luckily. They always seemed to work it out amongst themselves in some give and take social interaction that was a bit too complex for him to understand.

#not writing #proofread stories

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heathneycanon · 3 years

Text

reasons why phobia factor fucking slaps

ok this lowkey just turned into me rambling abt phobia factor while i rewatched it. putting it under a read more bc it’s super long lmao

like, the entire first five minutes are the campers being friendly to each other?? and vulnerable, to a degree??? you know i love that shit

courtney and trent?? talk to each other?? like. okay they’re never in the same frame together unfortunately, but they do have like, two whole back and forth conversations.

also in that campfire scene at the beginning, cody and trent are sitting next to each other and there are some. good screencaps

“exSQUEEZE me?!” like cody. ur such a dork omfg

duncan vulnerability hours

lindsay asks what a standee is and trent explains it and doesn’t mock her/isn’t annoyed with her at all, in contrast to a lot of the other campers interacting with lindsay. i love them as friends SO much u all have no idea

harold’s little scene with the ninjas. i love him sm. why does he have nunchucks with him when he goes to the bathroom??

leshawna is afraid of spiders and she runs away screaming from. chef wearing a spider suit??? like i don’t love spiders but if a man i knew wearing a spider costume was calmly walking toward me i wouldn’t react the same way as i would to a real spider. anyway i think this is hilarious.

season one heather vulnerability hours.....

i mean, i really wish they’d actually shown her talking abt her fear at the campfire, rather than just having it told by gwen in the confessional, but i get why they did that. regardless that one scene right before the sumo wrestler charges at her where she’s literally shaking.... i want to give her a hug

side note i hope the sumo wrestler is okay he hit his head quite a few times

ok so. trent accidentally leaving gwen buried underground because he’s getting chased by a mime isn’t like. a sweet gwent moment. but it is one of their interactions that i remember most vividly from tdi lmfao

what is a cute gwent moment is trent like. kneeling next to her while chris is burying her. and the face he makes at chris when he jokes abt not digging her up..... i love them sm

also gwen sounds so fucking dramatic when they close the box she’s in like. “goodbye cruel world” gwen ur being buried for 5 minutes ur not dying sdfjlafskj i love her

duncan hyping dj up before he picks up the snake is so cute?? like he’s clapping for him and he’s got what i call “adorable duncan face” which is where his eyes are full circles and he’s smiling. i can remember him making this face at courtney, dj, and alejandro throughout the series and it’s just. ugh loving soft duncan hours

“ah! it blinked” “it means she likes you” sadie where are u getting this information

okay so i googled if this was true and the result i got was “snakes can’t blink” so first of all i have no clue where sadie pulled that fact from and i have even less of an idea of where chris got that fucking. blinking snake from. is that even a snake??

when dj picks up the snake and they all hype him up?????? i love the killer bass so much it’s unreal

more cute gwent moments... gwen and trent talking on the walkie talkies.. they’re so cute

when the mime pops up behind trent and he does that little scream.... it’s loving trent hours u guys

trent is so bothered by a mime literally just. being a mime. me too trent. me too.

duncan and the celine dion music store standee.... everything abt that scene

"DUDE SHE’S MADE OF CARDBOARD” tyler i love you

courtney genuinely saying that it’s okay if he can’t do it (when she was being harsh to dj about the snake earlier..... duncney is so good in tdi u guys)

and then theY HOLD HANDS GUYSSSS IM SOFT FOR THEM

and THAT is what gives duncan the encouragement he needs to go for it?? they’re so good.

his “okay, okay” right before going for it... duncan’s voice acting is so good in this episode omfg

THE MUSIC THAT PLAYS WHEN HE HUGS THE STANDEE AND THEN EVERYONE CHEERING ITS SUCH A GOOD SCENE

THE DUNCNEY HUG

“duncan, you’re awesome!” and the look of shock on his face at both the fact that he did it and that courtney’s hugging him...... have i mentioned i love duncney yet?? bc i do

i can’t believe i used to dislike duncney omfg

then when courtney realizes that she’s hugging him and steps back jafksdfjlsa she’s so cute

and then the rest of the bass come over and hype duncan up more like. i love how supportive they all are in this episode!!

trent is so excited when he finally gets the mime to leave him alone fakjldjfl like he didn’t have to ROAST the dude. but he did.

chris somehow owns a remote control hail cloud?

lindsay getting excited about the “baby cloud” and calling it over?? she’s so cute omfg

trent fucking. hates geoff. gwent has geoffphobia in tdi ig

when they dig up gwen and she throws the walkie talkie at his head but he doesn’t stop smiling..... your honor i love them

owen and izzy getting out of the plane and kissing the ground together..... adorable.

cody with a fucking. watermelon on his head and covered in trash scares bridgette out of the woods. that will never not be funny to me

THAT ONE FUCKING SCENE. WHERE SADIE AND LINDSAY HYPE EACH OTHER UP. THAT MAY BE ONE OF MY FAVORITE SCENES IN THE ENTIRE SERIES. I LOVE THEM SM

the only bad thing abt this ep- tyler should have gotten the fucking point. he completed the challenge. i love courtney, but realistically, she should have gone home this ep and tyler should have stayed.

bridgette hyping tyler up...... im soft they should be friends

“quit being such a girl” courtney im sorry but the only reason you’re still in the game rn is because ezekiel made sexist comments in episode one. what are u saying lmfao

tyler and heather’s reactions to their fears rly make me think. bc like. most of the other campers have a more outward, loud reaction, maybe scream and run away. a couple are just a little wigged out. gwen gets a little snippy and is clearly super freaked out as well. but tyler and heather just. completely shut down. like, curled up in a ball, nonverbal, and shaking. makes u think.

why did cody need a calculator to figure out that the score was 7/3....... cody is canon lgbt+ bc he can’t do basic math without a calculator confirmed

also regardless of how little sense that made. at least that screencap gave us commie cody

when gwen starts trying to psych courtney out and heather like. gasps and looks shocked..... i like to think that heather feels a little bad for courtney here. heathney real.

duncan and bridgette hyping courtney up..... i love the killer bass so much omfg

courtney looks so sad when she walks away from the jelly.......

and then in the confessional right after?? she’s like. crying a little bit :( and she’s beating herself up abt it like..... :( courtney no

LITERALLY she’s like “how could i be so weak” “i deserve to go home” “you’re pathetic” (to herself) and then tells herself to show some confidence and then. she just starts crying again. and then slaps herself?? GOD I FUCKING LOVE COURTNEY SHE’S SO HARD ON HERSELF

owen just. hangin out in the tub of jelly. i love u, u wild dude. fuckin sit in that green jelly. loving owen hours

the little look that courtney and tyler give each other when they’re the last two without marshmallows..... half solidarity half “i don’t want to be the one going home”. i love them sm :(

i KNOW i said this earlier but. tyler should NOT have gone home this episode!!!!!! only bad thing abt this ep

all the fuckin chicken puns are a little bit funny tho

“he won’t be flying high tonight” bridgette chickens can’t fly

when courtney goes “okay, that’s enough” like. tyler’s not even there at this point but she’s defending him. maybe it’s because she still feels she should have gone home instead? maybe it’s because of that little bit of solidarity she felt for him when they were the final two without a marshmallow? maybe i’m reading too much into this? but idk. i think it’s sweet

okay no i have another complaint. what the fuck was the whole boat ride for tyler?? like when sadie gets eliminated the surprise she gets is that katie is on the boat. when tyler is on the boat, CRYING, after literally none of his teammates came to see him off, after he LITERALLY COMPLETED THE CHALLENGE BUT DIDN’T GET CREDIT FOR IT. the fucking. CHICKENS POP OUT?????? tyler deserved better

also some of the challenges were a lot easier, or at the very least, harder to fail than others this ep. i love it but come on. lindsay and sadie vs like. gwen vs owen and izzy vs dj. there were very different time limits, actual fright level, ability to back out once they were doing the challenge.... not a fair challenge

also uhm. if we’re being technical tyler and heather had the exact same reaction to their fears, so why did heather get a point and tyler didn’t? if the chicken had run at him, would he have won? smh

i do love this episode so much but. i had a couple complaints

okay finally lindsay’s little confessional to tyler where she blows him a kiss.... they’re so adorable lyler rights!!

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petra-realsnk · 3 years

Text

Rivetra fanfic (divergence au)

Hi guys! Here’s the third chapter of Digging up a grave. As I’ve said before, this and the next one were meant to be the same, but the end result was quite long, so I’ve decided to split it. I’ll post the fourth today as well. I hope you enjoy!

Warnings: sadness, mourning.

You can also read it here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29610360/chapters/73198356

Digging up a grave (Chapter 3)

Two weeks after being resurrected, Petra tries to cope with the loss of her teammates, while also adjusting to her new life. Just as he promised, Levi will accompany her to visit her father, who now thinks her daughter pretended to be dead for a secret mission. During lunch, he brings up the subject of that letter…

Between lines

Two weeks have passed since Petra returned. Thenceforth, she had come under the protection of the army, having to put aside her former duties as a soldier until they could find some answers. Nevertheless, she had insisted on making herself useful, and had been helping with the maintenance of the barracks. After all, she was one of the few people capable of meeting the captain's standards of cleanliness…

Petra had had time to mourn her companions, and to let the missed events sink on her. Many mornings she woke up with red eyes and a puffy face, ignoring the sour looks of the recruits who suspected her. Some of them had learned her story, and couldn't help but wonder, after losing many friends, why she had been allowed to return. Something she has been wondering as well…

Most soldiers were incredibly busy at that time, having to give many explanations after the truth of their world had been unveiled, so she found herself alone in most of the rooms, except for a couple guards that followed her around. As she worked, her mind wandered to other dark corners. Every little task made her think of her squad, who were no longer there to help nor bother. All those things they had done in company, she did now alone.

Levi had also found himself doing things on his own since that day. He stopped drinking tea for a while after the blow, to eventually go back to making it for himself. Accustomed to his solitude, he felt surprised to find Petra in the kitchen reaching for the kettle at dawn. He'd been acting on automatic that morning, and had to remind himself again that she was there, the same way he'd spent months waking up to tell himself otherwise. He was glad to see that she was better. They hadn’t seen each other since their talk in the dungeons, which now seemed so ethereal in his memory.

“Good morning there.” His words made Petra wince, for her mind had been somewhere else.

She was kneeling in front of the low cabinets, and returned his salute without hardly looking at him. It was obvious that she had been sleeping little and crying a lot. She had always been very receptive to her surroundings, but now her figure gave off an air of decay.

“I can do it myself”, he told her. Levi didn’t want to stick his nose in her business, plus surprising someone in their emotions always made him feel awkward.

"Don't worry it's fine. I'll bring it to you in a minute." She recollected herself quickly.

Levi watched her silently, as he approached to help her pick things up.

“Would you have a cup with me?” He asked, appreciating the moment he believed he could never live again.

“Sure.” She replied sweetly, slowly coming back from her saddened mind.

They drank their tea in an awkward silence, but Petra knew it was better that way, for he hated small talk even more.

“I'm sorry you had to be doing this alone.” She suddenly told him. “I’ve been doing everything alone myself lately… It sucks.”

She hadn’t realized how much she needed to talk with someone until that moment, and she really wanted it to be him on the other side.

“I still carry them on everything I do. That’s one way to deal with it.” He told her, knowing perfectly well what she was going through. His words brought some warmth to her, as she decided to follow his example once more.

“Captain. I’ve been locked in here for days, and I can barely take it like this. I need to do something else.”

“I’ve already told you what’s your position right now. Stop asking.” He needed to cut her off. Fighting or not, she was still a soldier under his command, and he couldn’t have her breaking down.

“Can I see my father then?” She asked, slightly defiant.

In normal circumstances, he would’ve grabbed her by the collar for that, but he had a soft spot for her, plus she couldn’t be blamed for whatever mindfuckery she was going through after everything.

“If you’re ready by mid day, I’ll ask Hange.”

After hearing his reply, she felt wrong for reacting like that. She didn't know what was going on with her, but there was something different... She was having a hard time keeping herself together.

“I’m sorry for… I’ll be ready by then.” She replied. Then, without losing a second, she got up and went to her dorm. Levi watched her leave, without knowing how to help her. She even had problems vocabulazing herself...

Petra tried to sleep for a couple more hours before showering and getting ready to go home. She felt joyful for for the first time in days, thinking that she might be able to take a piece of her previous life back for at least a few hours, plus Levi would be accompanying her, wasn’t this everything she had wished for before?

Once she came out of the shower, someone knocked her door. She covered herself quickly and went to open. Petra was surprised to find it was Levi, who seemed to be already dressed up for the occasion. He wore a formal but simple black suit, with his characteristic white shirt and neckerchief.

“Oh! Hello, captain, isn’t it a little bit early?”

“I’ve brought you this. We gave all your stuff back to your father, and it will be suspicious for you to not have any street clothes of your own. “

He handed her a paper bag that contained a dress quite similar to those she always used to wear when off duty. Petra had picked his clothes back then a couple times, but she was surprised to see him nail her style that nicely. “He really has an eye for detail”, she thought.

“There’s also a letter with some scheme Hange and I came with, you should memorize it.” He felt bad for having to ask her to lie to his poor father, but she seemed too entertained with that dress to care.

“Oh! I’ll take a look at this”, she said, taking the envelope, “though I must advise you, it’s better to keep quiet in front of him. He’s too good at reading between the lines…” She always sounded more cheerful whenever she talked about him.

Levi’s mind couldn't help but to remember the first time he approached him. “I wanted to discuss something with you before she sees me”, he had told him, “she said she wanted to devote herself to you, even though that’s her pride talking… as her father-”

“Thank you, Captain Levi. I’ll be ready as soon as possible.” Her words brought him back from that flashback as she closed the door in front of him. This time she seemed more excited, and her mood had improved quite a lot from that talk they had in the morning. Levi went back to work, still thinking about what her father could have read between the lines of that letter.

xxxxxxxx

About an hour later, Levi was standing on the same spot. Petra’s door opened before he could even knock, and she stepped outside to meet him. She looked much more fresh after gaining some sleep, and the femenine cut of her dress did wonders to her figure. For some, it would’ve been hard to envision such a “girly girl” as one of the fiercest soldiers the legion has ever had. For some others, that contrast was exactly what made her seem so versatile and fascinating, Levi within them. It’s important to remark that it wasn’t just a matter of appearance, as her personality could easily meet both extremes as well.

They started walking together, and left the building using a discrete back entrance, to get as little attention as possible. Underneath, a carriage was waiting for them.

“We have communicated your return beforehand to him, we don’t want your dad to have a heart attack before you’re even able to talk. Have you memorized our version of events?” Levi asked about halfway through their journey.

Petra nodded. “It’s quite hard to believe, but I guess the truth it’s even less believable.”

They didn’t want the enemy to find out that easily that they had found the lost titan, so they wouldn’t leak the true information outside some trusted circles of the army. They have told the rest that Petra had gone undercover in a mission they could not disclassify yet, and that they had used the death of Levi’s squad to erase her as well. In order to protect her and her father, they had had to lie to him as well. They also included some minor details in order to make it more believable, although it was advised to not give much away. It wasn’t difficult to let it slip, considering that most of the soldiers who had seen her body back then were trusted individuals or already dead…

They both stared at their scripts as they made their way through the fields. Soon enough, Petra got distracted by the familiar view of her land. Her father had a small farm he used for his own supply and some sales. Levi watched as her face brightened, finally kissed by the outside sun. She suddenly turned to look at him with a big smile and said:

“I’m glad to be coming back, and I’m really happy that you’re joining me, captain.”

Levi couldn’t have imagined how much she had dreamed of introducing him to her father, or inviting him to dinner back then, but he thought it was kind of sweet for her to say that.

She kept looking outside the window with a tender smile. Although the sky was gray, the field looked incredibly green, and a couple of houses could be seen in the distance. She had walked that road so many times… At one side of it, Petra’s house started to appear on the horizon, and she saw the figure of a man running towards them. Levi quickly catched the change in her expression, but it was too late. Petra opened the door of the carriage and jumped out while it was still moving.

“OI, PETRA!” He screamed as he jumped behind her.

When he hit the ground, he saw her running towards his father, who was already starting to lose his breath. He stayed still next to the carriage that had already stopped by then, and told the driver to leave. From afar, Levi saw Petra hug her father who seemed just as nervous as the first time he saw him. He started walking slowly towards them, noticing that they were both crying. He decided to remain just as far enough to listen without interrupting.

“My girl! my girl I can’t believe it… You don’t know it, everyday… everyday I’ve missed you so much!” He batherly could keep himself standing between his daughter’s arms as he cried inconsolably.

“I’m so so sorry papa, but you couldn’t know… I couldn’t let anything happen to you. I am so sorry. I am fine…”

Levi felt displaced as he watched them. It was obvious that the two had a bond he had never been able to experience.

“Look papa, I’ve come with captain Levi, he’s in charge of my safety for the day… He offered himself to bring me home.”

“Ah… Hello, captain… I remember him from that time yeah…” He had just realized Levi was there, and tried his best to welcome him despite being a mess of emotions.

“Hi.” Levi answered, visibly uncomfortable. He had always been awkward, but this time he really didn’t know how to react. When Petra died, he couldn’t mutter a single word while he tried to speak with him, it was someone else who had told him… All of these things he didn’t talk with Petra, who looked at him rather surprised to learn that they’ve met before.

“Ah… I- I didn’t know that!” She was unable to lie, but tried to seem chill about it, because she knew that her father was… well… prone to embarrass her, even when he bore the best of wills.

“I’ve been waiting for you since morning! I didn’t have much at home but I told the people of the village you were coming and they brought a lot of stuff! Oh Petra, they’re all crazy to see you…”

Petra's nerves shot up. “Dad! You weren’t supposed to tell anyone.” She looked at Levi fearing for his reaction.

“I- ugh… Yeah, but when they asked what happened, when they saw me… I couldn’t- ”

“Unbelievable. We’ll let this pass for now, but you need to understand you’re endangering her by revealing her location.” Levi cut him.

Petra’s father was visibly affected by his words.

“Don’t worry captain, I’m sure that If he talks with the people around here, they won’t say a word. These are all trustworthy people, and there aren’t much of us.” Petra tried to reassure him.

“You’re right! I will ask them as soon as possible, if your captain is okay…”

“Fine.” Levi said in defeat. There wasn’t much he could do given the situation.

“Please, come inside home!” He said without letting go of his daughter. “You too, captain Levi, I’ve been told about your mannerisms, and I can assure you that the house is spotless!”

Levi was surprised to find out how much information Petra had been delivering to her father, while her face started to burn bright red.

“Papa! Please, don’t say those things. I am sorry captain!” They turned around and started walking towards their place, as Petra keeped to reprimand her father in a lowerer tone for his comment.

The little farm was surely adorable, a place someone would imagine Petra coming from. The interior received a good amount of natural light, and as soon as they entered, a table full of food awaited for them. Levi kept following them a couple steps behind.

“Oh, kids, you better not do this to me never again… I’m already old, and you’ve managed to take more years of my life.” He said as he started to serve the table. “Please sit.”

“There’s no need papa, let me help you.” Petra said as she rushed into the kitchen.

Levi, once again, sat there feeling awkward. These kinds of reunions weren’t his thing at all, although it was nice to see them together once more. After bringing everything that was missing, they started to eat. Petra and his father talked effusively about whom in the village had brought each thing. As they conversated, Levi started to see how Petra slowly shifted into her more natural version. She sounded more youthful and sassy… The same version of her he always saw from afar whenever she was with her teammates. He thought it was nice to experience her like this, from up close, when she’s unbothered by his presence.

“Ah… excuse my manners, Levi.” Started Petra’s father after realizing they were alienating him. “I don’t think I’ve told you before, but my name is Elias.”

Levi still didn’t know how to include himself in the conversation, even after being addressed directly.

“Nice to meet you… I’m Levi Ackerman, although you seem to know a great deal about me already....”

Petra blushed at his remark, but she also was shocked to learn about that surname. It was the first time he gave away something like that.

“Oh! I thought you had another surname… Where are you from, Levi?”

“Papa, he doesn’t really like to talk about him. How about you better update me on that bet you made with uncle Ben?” Petra tried to help Levi there, but he didn’t care.

“I used to live underground. I didn’t have much left there when I joined the Survey Corps by petition of the previous commander.”

Petra’s eyes widened, she had never seen him talk about his past, and was moved to finally learn something about him. It was obvious that he felt he had some kind of debt with them, why else would he feel the need to answer?

“I see… It must have been hard for you. Although I am glad you found your way out and became Petra’s leader. From what she says… well… I think everyone at this point, your abilities are truly amazing, and you must be an exceptional leader if you’ve been able to inspire my girl like that.”

Petra felt her face burning again. “Dad, could you please don’t bring me up like that?…”

“Oh! But com’on, after that last letter you sent me, you left me truly worried. I even felt the need to discuss it with him…”

Petra’s blood fell into her feet, he had done what?

“Dad, have you actually...?” She asked him, terrified of his answer.

“Ah, yes… I’m sorry, Petra. I just wanted him to know, so you wouldn’t get hurt. You see... captain, that time I was concerned about her “devotion” to you.”

Levi began to feel uncomfortable once more, as he started to become the total center of the conversation.

“DAD.” Petra looked at him horrified, her face completely red. “I‘ve already told you one hundred times, I wanted to devote myself to humankind. That was my dream.” She continued, trying to downplay it.

“And you did! You even were chosen for his squad and that... mission… But you have to admit there was very little “humanity” and a lot of “Levi” in there… Well, there always was” Elias said, progressively lowering his tone.

Petra thought she was going to literally die, as Levi remained quiet on the other side of the table. She needed to find a way out of that conversation as soon as possible, but her father was, once again, faster.

“I didn’t want to lose you. That 's all… Ever since you joined the Survey Corps... You know how high the mortality is there. I always knew you were strong Petra, but I also wanted you to get a chance in life. Something, more… I prayed for you to come back every time. But suddenly, you started to talk about him. At the beginning it was a character more in the stories of your letters, but suddenly, he dragged you. All you wanted to do was to serve by his side, you were willing to die for him, and for a long time, Petra, I thought you did.”

Levi’s stoic expression began to crack.

“You’re my only child. The absolute light of my life, and I had to live with the thought of you being eaten alive every day. I wanted for you to get through that to then come home, and to finally be able to put it to rest. I never wanted to pressure you to lead a life you didn't want... But one day, you found out there your reason to live, and to die, and I couldn’t do anything... The way you talked about him… I knew you weren’t coming back.”

Petra’s eyes softened, visibly moved by her father’s words. She knew it must have been hard for him to endure, and, after all, he had guessed her feelings perfectly… At the same time, Levi was thinking back again about that day, when Elias approached him for the first time.

He had always known Petra to be kind, so he didn’t feel that he was an exception. He thought that she probably was able to read people’s feelings, and wanted to show them her understanding, just as she had done for so many comrades. It wasn't until that talk that he dared to think, for the first time, that she had loved him. With the passage of time, he started to think that pain had played a trick on him back then, and that it had only been the words of a concerned father, but now his suspicions resurrected.

“Back then…” Levi started. “Were you going to ask me to marry her?”

Petra turned his head violently towards her captain, who was now directly looking at her father. Elias lowered his gaze, not wanting to embarrass his daughter any further. Petra then got up, visibly frustrated at the two of them.

“I’m going to say this only once, so you both listen to me carefully.” She said with a fiery look on her eyes. “My personal feelings are not of your concern, you listen? I’m not letting an intimate confession come in the way of all my work, and my sacrifice.”

That last remark tingled Levi’s senses, he knew that was for him.

“Everything I did, I did as a soldier, as a companion, and as a friend. Nothing more. I don’t need for you to take responsibility for how I feel. If I want to believe in someone, then I will, and If I want to marry them, I can ask them myself.”

Both men sat in silence, as Petra took complete control over that conversation. Her words sounded strong and disciplined, once again demonstrating the incredible determination that she possessed, even when she was in such a vulnerable moment. Levi knew perfectly well that she was capable of taking charge of her feelings, after all, that had been one of the reasons he chose her in the first place.

“Good for me then, Petra.” He told her, respecting her decision to end the matter there.

“You’re right… Please forgive me.” Said Elias, shortly after.

“You guys should try this apple pie! Ilse’s sweets are always good.” Petra spoke once again, putting the best face she could to lighten the mood.

In a short time, the intensity of the atmosphere began to dissipate, leading to something more festive. The three of them struck up simpler conversations as the hours passed. Levi watched them surprisingly relaxed, thinking about how such a gloomy memory could have led to such a funny scene.

Once finished, Petra insisted on helping her father with some farm work. Levi knew the carriage would be picking them up shortly, but he decided to let it pass. When the driver arrived, he gestured for him to turn around, leaving Petra and Elias to enjoy a few more hours together. Later, he himself would accompany her on foot to the barracks.

The hours went by as Petra and her father happily shared their tasks. Elias had been the third person who had found himself doing things alone since that day... But right now, they had each other again. Levi decided to help them too, looking from afar the family that would’ve welcomed him.

#digging up a grave #petra ral #levi ackerman #rivetra #snk #attack on titan #shingeki no kyojin #levitra #rivapeto #rivetra fanfic #rivetra fanfiction

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popculturebuffet · 3 years

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New X-Men Xtrospective Part 3: Imperial (NXM #121-126)

To me all you happy people! And welcome back to my X-Citing look at Morrison’s Masterwork on Marvel’s Merry Mutants! Part One is HERE, Part Two is HERE if you feel like it.

If not... to catch you up on last time....

All Caught up? Good. Join me under the cut as our heroes head into this old woman’s hedd to see what’s wrong and fight off an alien army while horribly ill.

Silent, Psychic Rescue in Process:

So we pick up not long after we left off: Thanks to Beast waking up from his bat induced coma, the X-Men now know Charles is trapped in Cassandra’s body and she pulled a Freaky Friday on him, with marginally less bullets.

And thus we get this issue. This one was part of Nuff Said, an incredibly clever theme month by Marvel and one I wish they’d try and do again at some point in some form.

The gimmick was simple but amazing: Every issue would be mostly silent, with at most some dialouge at the start and finish to bookend it. So far i’ve only read two issues of this, this one and the X-Statix one, but it is a genuinely great idea. I do think forcing it on the entire line was a bit much, but as I said I do wish they’d do this again just make it optional: have some books opt in or do some annuals with the theme. It’s just a fun break from the usual and with this issue resulted in one of the best single issues of x-men period.

Naturally given the name, which is cleverly displayed on a sign the x-men have because of course they do, it’s exaclty that: Emma and Jean after readying themselves (Jean kisses Scott goodbye and Emma downs a bottle of jack because why not do an alchol before doing delecate mental surgery), head in.

Inside they find horrific old lady head doors, stone ol dlady heads around a tower that shoot lasers, and said doors also bite and puke weird goop because it’s Grant Morrison. This is his chance to just go full balls out weird.. and given last time involved skin flake golemns.. and this isn’t even the weirdest he’s done. As mentioned last time he once had a supervillian run for president using a super LSD Bike that made everyone high.

And just to prove he can reach that level of weirndess we find charles alone, naked and with an overenlarged brain.. before he transitions Jean to a field of sperm.

Yeah... but this DOES have a point.. as it turns out it’s a meaphorical transition into his gestation as a baby.. and how he had a twin. Yeah turns out Cassandra was not lying he did try to kill her.. but as you can probably tell by the fact she’s a genocidal sociopath, she lied by omission to screw with Hank: In the womb she tried strangling Charles to death with his own umbilical cord..only for him to use baby’s first psonic blast to send her reeling and his mom tumbling down the stairs and well.. you can probably guess the rest. Yeah.. Cassandra’s entire origin story is concentrated

And I love it. The sheer audacity is nice and everything but what makes it really work for me is the simple concept: An evil version of charles, one almost born at the same time whose every bit as evil as he is good.. granted there’s a TON of Morally Grey in Charles Xavier ESPECIALLY post decimation and even more so now with Krakoa. But he’s sitll at his heart a well meaning person, while Cassandra at her heart is a racist genocidal nightmare. She is pure evil, with enough personality to not make her boring.. and more importanlty all the power charles has but NONE of his restraint. Part of what makes Charles noble is he only uses his powers when necessary. Cassandra.. has no such restraint and will happily mentally snap necks all day.

So with this our heroine’s leave and we end on the iconic line “Professor Xavier killed his twin sister in the womb. We Really ought to talk.

This issue is an utter classic. It finally explains Cassandra a bit while still leaving a ton of questions, Frank Quitely is at his best here, and he and morrison are incrediby good at non verbal storyteling. The result is surreal, unsettling and awesome. Check it out. Seriously seek this one out it’s worth the trip. It’s so famous it was homaged with a spirtual sequel in the recent Giant Size X-Men one shots. It’s excellent stuff

Imperial:

So with our first issue we open with things going terrible on that flag ship Cassandra took off on with Lilandra, empress of the Shiar and Xavier’s space wife. She’s revealed herself, is ravaging the ship and mind rapes a the helmsman into crashing it, so with no other options Lilandra sends Smasher, not the one from the avengers run earlier version, to earth to send a warning to the X-Men.

At the School things are actually going well for a second. In an intresting move the school is changing things up with no officla timetable.. which I think means there’s no rigid class schedule and you can just do them as you please or as necessary for your power. The plan’s the same, they just want to learn from each other in building mutant society and the future. It’s ideas like this that are the bedrock of the current run and were sadly never fully realized here.. but I don’t blame this run for that. Morrison had 2-3 years and it was cut short early, leading to a rather disapointing ending we’ll get to. They never had a chance to really dig in because they were kicked out by morons and then their whole grand design was undone until Hickman un-undid it in 2019. And even then some of this like the idea of mutant culture and what not hasn’t been picked up on yet. I do mean YET, as given the sheer NUMBER of x books touching on all sorts of subjects, it’s only a matter of if not when.

As for who’s behind this it’s a combination of Jean and Charles: Jean is using charles notes and is going at full tilt. Scott is concerned though.. both about her since she went Phoenix and Logan told him about it and because these plans may alarm the humans. ON the former Jean just brushes him off which is not right.. given what happened with the phoenix force copy of jean, which granted had her personality, memories and powers and Jean later got a set of her memories so it might as well of been and only MAYBE the genocide is something Jean wouldn’t of done under the same circumstances, he’s understandably concerned. He lost her to it last time and it did weird shit to poor Rachel, who hif you don’t know is their daughter from an alternate timeline... because the Summer’s family tree is a WAKING NIGHTMARE. Thankfully I don’t have to untangle it because there’s a handy chart right here to do it for me that was recently released in X-Men Legends, a new series featuring legendary x creators telling stories in the cracks... and given we’re getitng storys by the simosons and peter motherfucking david, yeah good stuff.

And why yes there are more than one clone in this tree and several alternate timelines. , not to mention several clones and a sexy cat lady, it’s complicated is understnading it and i’m not sure what properly states it honestly. Also if your wondering about Adam there he’s the genetic son of Cyclops mom and the ma Shiar empreror who killed her for not sleeping with him through. Again it’s complicate REALLY feels like understatement.

Point is he DOES have a right to be worried about the thing that lead to her being cocooned for a while and left their daughter in the future at the time of this... just in case you needed a reminder after that wonderful clusterfuck of a chart up above athe x-men are really fucking weird.

So Jean brushing that off is not okay. She does however call him out on the second one and rightfully so: This isn’t some dominate the humans manifesto: this is simply changing the course of the future and how they teach their students to create a better one instead of adhering to human norms to try and appease “the republicans’, as jean puts it.. which has only gotten MORE RELEVANT, 20 years on: Attempts to appease the norms of society and things “just because that’s how it’s been” have never been a good thing. It’s why the very writer of this comic took several decades to properly identify themselves as non binary because people were too stuck int heir ways to try and see if there really were just two genders. Fighting against the grain, finding new ways to express things that have always been there... it’s what humanity needs to do and certainly what comes after us would need to do. i’ts how we get better as a race. If something’s not working we change it, quickly or slowly. And given Scott’s huge amount of emotoinal repression lately.. I can see why she’d see the former complaint as just him being a dick as opposed to the genuine concern it is.

Short Version: Jean Grey is fucking awesome and while he’d be the last to write her for decades, no one did it better than Grant and no one has since. Hopefully Gerry Duggan can clear that bar.

After this fight we get a fuller verson of what happened both at the end of issue 120 and in the big reveal last issue: Turns out Hank awoke because Charles piloted his body like a truck and needed it revealed fast. Hank’s regained control of his body and facilities by now, but in a twist of irony he helpfully points out, had Cassandra not gone a needlessly cruel and sociopathic tangent and had Beak beat Beast into a coma, Charles wouldn’t of had a body.

As for Charles in cass’ body he’s now in a tub of goo created by it.

It acts as a shield as well as melding him with Cerebra so he can talk to jean telepathically as his thoughts are very weak.

Thanks to this and her psychic Jaunt, Jean now knows just what the hell cassandra is: She really is Charles twin sister. As for how the hell she surivied outside of the womb and how Charles never knew, she created herself a clone body using his cells and didn’t fully manifest till now. And while she has plenty of intellegence, at an emotional level she’s fully convinced, much like an infant that only she and charles are real and thus destroying him means gaining domance over her world. So in short she’s both utterly insane and now has an interstellar empire at her fingertips.

And the news SOMEHOW get sworse: She booby trapped her body and charles only has days before he’s vegatable, having put every psychological disease possible in there, and she’s probably responsible for their colds and the u-men. So in short their pretty scrwed but at the very least Charles plans to try to flip things, use the fact their now public (a clear tactic to weaken them) to share his manefesto, his last will and testiment if you would.

Scott meanwhile figures since their sick a healer might be a good idea and goes solo to fetch Xorn... who just sorta disappeared after the annual and didn’t return till his arc.

We get an utterly touching scene after this: With Logan staying on his hobbit like toes in case of another attack, Jean goes to talk to hank. Hank is still throughly traumatized from the attack, fearing Cassandra is right and he’ll just keep devlovling until he ends up in a metamoprhisis type situation. I mean it’s not ALL bad hank,.. I mean going through that guarantees a musical about you.

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But Jean reassures him: It’s okay to be afraid of her, they all are.. but as she puts it...

It’s a really powerful inspiring scene... and really afirms how well Morrison writes Jean from the previous arc onward. She’s confident, powerful.. but also caring and compassionate. Here hank’s at his lowest, disparing that this might get worse.. and she reaffirms that htis evolution is an upgrade.. he may not be the same.. but that’s okay. He’s better. It really speaks to the core message of the X-Men as a whole and why they’ve stuck around all this time: It’s not just okay your diffrent.. it’s WONDERFUL. Your wonderful for being you. Whatever meataphor you read into it, it’s at it’s core a message that no matter who hunts you or trys to shame you for what you are, they are wrong and you are wonderful. And you are not alone... your people are out there.. and they will go through hell to protect you. It’s moments like this that remind me despite the bad parts, the accidnetal transphobic metaphor last time, a subplot with Hank coming up, the affair storyline and Planet X, just.. Planet X.. this run is special to me for a reason. It has heart, character and truly gets how the x-men should work, what makes them great... while making something NEW AND FRESH from it’s bones. Pushing envelopes, chanigng things for good and shaking things the hell up after far too much stagnation. It’s just pure good comicy goodness and i’m proud to finally be talking about it after having always wanted to.

So as we end the issue Scott grabs Xorn, whose been at a budist temple all this time, and Smasher arrives to warn earth... but his warning missed his intended target.

Well at least he got to Hellcow’s coven.. maybe she can call in Man Eating Cow and the Chick Fill A Super Cows.. thought hey might not help. Their parent company IS pretty homophobic.. I doubt their high on mutants either.

Testament Emma and Jean talk over things how i’ts going etc, with Emma unsuprisingly annoyed with most of the students and Jean optimsitc.

But Emma soon has bigger issues to deal with: TEEN ANGST!

Yeah 4/5 of the Cuckoos are upset Esme has a boyfriend. Their concerns in part are because without her their apparently powerless.. which given one will die and another will leave and they’ll be left with three is just factually not true, and either Morrison changed his mind later, or more likely their simply exagerating like teens do. Emma points out it’s pointless to fight this...

So... their in a domestically abusive relationship rife with sexual tension? Are you sure your not htinking of Sam and Diane, Ross and Rachel, Garfiled and Odie perhaps?

Meanwhile Angel’s sulking in a tree talking about how all the kids are stupid and she dosen’t fit in. That sort of thing. Wolverine naturally has a tactful and understandable response to this:

It’s here Angel goes from understandable, a bit hard edged and obnoxious becuase of a very rough life.. and just becomes annoying. I do get what Grant was trying to do: he was trying to play with Wolverine’s habit of taking sassy teens under his wing by giving him a more hardscrabble one with a harder life pre-xaviers.. not that Jubilee’s was easy, but I get what he was going for.. he just dosen’t succeed. Instead of a realistic version of a teen sidekick she just comes off as an obnoxious brat whose rude to everyone including her one friend Logan and her later boyfriend. It dosen’t help that ONCE AGAIN, Morrison flew directly into unfortunate implications without meaning to, by having the only major POC character (Bishop guest stars later and there are two significant characters during the Riot at Xaviers arc but both aren’t relevant before or after), be an abused teen with gross fly based powers and a teen pregnancy subplot. Seriously this isn’t even the LAST time Morrison shoves their foot in their mouth like this in this run. While I do like this run a lot, it’s still 20 years old and it’s still going to have a bunch of bits that have aged like harvarti left on a sidewalk, and handing out unfortnuate implications like their candy is tied for the biggest with their handling of Magneto when he finally shows up in person. It’s THAT bad a take on the character that it’s up there with accidental racisim and transphobia.

So moving on from.. that we get Jean comforting the professor before meeting the press, giving a throughly lovely speech about how Charles got his powers 30 years ago and despite seeing the worst in humanity, used his telepathy to allow him to see past it and see deep down just how scared and alone we all felt. So she takes them into a psychic conference room and we get a very interesting exchange.

It’s an interesting parallel to how real world disinfranchised groups, how it takes time.. but soon being a POC or LBGTQ+ goes from unrightfully perscuted to celebrated. How a group starts with hates whipsers on the fringe of things but grows to be accepted, like it always SHOULD have been. Take representation of Trans people in the media. It started with Trans people being almost entirely punchlines and sources of fucking horendous “DID DEY USED TO BE A MAN.” storylines and hurtful jabs at people who had transitioned, treating them as a sideshow instead of you know as fucking human beings. But now coming out as what you always were ont he inside is celebrated. Sure the right are dicks about it but they always will be: but most media gladly celebrates when someone comes out as trans. Same with being gay, or bi or pan or polamorus or nonbinary. Hell I admire grant for showing i’ts not even 100% perfect once you are popular: you still have to grapple both with people wanting to copot your culture and those who still don’t understand you trying to speak for you.

She also gets the standard question calling the X-Men an army, shoots it down with the normal global peacekeeping operation stuff.. then we get this bitch.

Who quickly realizes she’s outclassed by Emma Frost, professional that bitch. And while Jean is understandbly going to have to erase that.. I can’t blame her for snapping her.

Just to tear this shit down.: The privacy thing is not something she’s doing. All she’s doing is spcyhic teleconfrencing, you harpy. They fight greek gods and monsters to protect your sorry ass and the last one.. just makes me absolutely livid and feels so much like a real world comment i’m suprised there isn’t a fox news logo next to her bigoted head.

Trouble follows them everywhere they go.. because their mutants. They can’t help it. A LOT of shit like the demons, aliens, and gods and what not, I do not know if they actually did fight the greek gods but i’m not going to say for sure they did not, the norse gods defintely, not sure on greek. But the point is allt his stuff HAPPENS TO THEM half the time, or is a consequence of trying to PROTECT PEOPLE. I’m so nettled by this because this is how the marvel unvierse acts all the fucking time towards ALL super powered peoples. Mutants esepcailly but they blame the heroes and what not for being chased and harassed by guys in costumes or alien invasions or all the stuff they FIGHT. Sure sometimes they caused it but it’s either because of a monsterous person with a grudge or just because their powerful and some douche took an intrest. I’m just.. so fucking tired of asshole civlians in comics. It’s realisitc I know but it’s just hard to stomach after so many have turned their back on so many for such DUMB reasons.

Jean recovers well pointing out the genocide and how 16 million people, 16 million possible einsteinss or mozarts are just GONE, and that their trying to focus on the future. She also brings up autistic savants who can talk to atoms and while I don’t like the use of the savant thing, as it brings to mind stuff like rainman I very badly want to see this autistic kid who can talk to atoms as someone on the spectrum myself. Also I just want the crew of HIckma’ns books in general to pour over this because there are a lot of intresting powers and personalities only MENTIONED we never saw proper that could be great characters. Just saying.

Jean cocludes her speech to the world, including Logan whose wisely getting hammered at anearbye bar.. while Hank finds out what’s going on with their sickness.. nanonscopic sentnels in the blood.

But while the press confrence ends well with Jean having won over the press.. things go sideways as not only is it clear Esme’s boyfriend is in fact something sinister.. but Jean falls over due to the nano snetinels, and senses Scott being taken in tibet, taken down by a group of the Shiar’s imperial guard.. picutre the legion of superheroes but blindly loyal to the goverment and far more likely to get killed. And the rest are preparing to attacking including Gladiator who if you don’t know him, has all the powers of superman as long as he retains his confidence.

And it turns out Esme’s boyfriend is an advanced Scout, the shapeshifting amoeba blob thing Stuff, a new addition by morrison and good on him. And the Imperial Guard are here but with one goal

Superdestroyer

On the Ship we find out both wha’ts going on with Scott and Xorn, they’ve been taken and why the shiar are attempting mutant genocide: Cassandra is puppeting ALL of them, has convinced them the mutants are infected and since Lilandra is a puppet, Scott’s words fall on deaf ears.

Meanwhile Wolverine ambushes one of the squads, kiling one named Dinosaurer via claw to the brain, while Emma has had a dome thing put over her head and isn’t transforming into diamond to counter it because...

But the Cuckoos fight back, taking out oracle before easily handling stuff since his brain is fairly simple.. and given he’s racist against solid people and unlike the others reveling in the genocide just a tad.. yeah what he deserves. So now with a living weapon the Cuckoos make peace with Angel as they need all the help they can get.

Jean ushers the press into the panic room, not happy about it but not having anothe roption for their saftey. Hank tells her to self distruct crebra if cassandra get sclose and goes off to join the fight and let off some steam over the situation. Hank easily routes two of them, and one , Manta tries to just fly right ot jtean wince their TK proof. How does that go?

Jean gets to saftey after that, not that she needs it and hank is quickly taken down by a batch of Superguardians.. only for Wolverine to arrive in the Sknitt of time and chop them up.. oh and as one of the puts it...

Bad. Ass. I also like the addition of the flight patch, a nod to the Legion, who the Imperial Guard were based on as those kids used flight rings.

But while Logan and Hank easily tag team these assholes...

The SHiar call in the big guns.. Gladiator.. and I wasn’t kidding abotu the superman thing. While Logan TRIES to talk him out of it, the murders only confirm Cassandra’s bullshit and Gladiator breaks into the panic room throwing hank and wolverin’e before them having utterly decimated them off panel. I mean Wolvie is a badass.. but even he has limits. I also like recontecullizing the guard as a whole here.. showing just how TERRIFYING they SHOULD be as enimies to the x-men. Yes our heroes did win.. but barely and only till Gladiator showed up. In most cases thier clearly holding back out of affection but here hteir just at errifying unstoppable force, and also apparently used to doing genocides like this. It takes what was a cheesy shout out to David Cockrums other big artistic work, and makes it horrifying and it is AWESOME. I admit to not having liked this arc as much for the longest time but this reread, the sheer teror and hopleessness as an interstellar superman easily cuts through our mighty mutants like tissue... it’s awesome.

Thankfully one of the Guard found smasher.. and thus the truth comes out so our heroes are given a stay of execution with Gladiator clearly horrified at what he almost did and our heroes now so sick they can barely move and Hank can’t think them out of this.

Thankfully he dosen’t has to as back in space, Cyclops tires of it and points out something Xorn, not being as experinced nor having delt with the guard ahd thought of: G-Type, the glowly guy about to execute them, is made of solar energy.. and xorn can manipulate that thanks to his star brain. He does, they take out the rest.. and prepare to go save the day.

Losers: PIcking up shortly before where we left off we see Cassandra murder Lilandra’s advisor who figured out what she was just as our heroes escape.. and as Cassandra is having Lilnadra order all of the shiar ships to immolate themselves.

WIth Lilandra not being any use, Cass tries to psychically force her to commit sucidie but jumping off a space ledge but Xorn saves her. Cass tries another turn at mentally breaking an x-man, pointing out all scott’s recent flaws, his increased repression his faling marriage and while it gets him to stop it dosen’t quite work as well as it did on hank, likely because at his heart Hank is simply a more emotive person. Though his REAL reason for stalling is he can’t kill charles.. which he muses just as the ship blows up real good.

Meanwhile back at Campus the kids initaiate their plan, having Angel break in and take a dna sample. She also finds beak naked in a tank and decides eh why not and brings him with her. This ends up paying off as Beak suggests the obvious to get emma free.. just force the space guy they have over in the corner to do it. They do and it works

Back in the mansion our heroes prepare for Casssandra... but Jean and Logan object to saving her body, pointing out that getting hank to repair it is exactly what she wants, and that Jean feels she can save charles without uit, with Hank being understandably doubtful given their current condition.. but Jean’s real plan is to put charles in her head and it’s already too far in actoin to stop now: she’s been saving his memories as they flaked off and if she dosen’t do this now there will be no charles left.

Hank evacuates the civlians to teh danger room, and has an encounter with trish who tries to apologize and get him back.. only for him to rightfully regjecter her..a and then goes a step further by capping it off with:

Yeah on it’s own it’s not TERRIBLE. Still very dated to claim your gay just to spite someone, but for the time it was acceptable and compared to some of Morrison’s other gaffes in the run it’s minor at best. But it leads into a rather annoying subplot we’ll naturally get to that’s a much bigger issue, so i’ll save talking about it in full for when it comes up again.

Jean manages to shove Chuck into her head, but is naturally leaking a bit and barely holding it or him together and may of overestimated herself just a tad.. while on the lawn Cassandra easily takes out the guards. That said the scene of Jean taking Chuck into her head is REALLY damn awesome. Jean is the arc MVP by a mile and Hank is pretty dang good competition.

All Hell: We open the final issue of the arc with Scott and Xorn escaping the spaceship using some teleport tubes taking Arakai and Lilandra with them.

We open with Cassadra utterly humilating gladiator while the kid team prepares to fight her despite you know, the 8 billion to 1 odds against them.

Jean, despite hte discknes and trying to keep an old man in her brain marches out , prepared to fight, for the kids sake. For the world’s sake. But Logan’s easily taken out and with Jean barely holding it together.. the kids prepare to fight.. likely being slaughtered even if they mean well.. onlyf or help to finally arrive with Scott and Xorn glowy porting in. We get a really sweet , short moment with scott and jean...

Scott not knowing the situation tries to have Xorn heal charles first but since Cassandra’s body is dead and unoccupied that’s a no go.. he’s still usefult hough, curing Jean of her nanosentital sickness and moving on to Scott and Hank while there’s still time.

We find out more about cassandra: She’s a murrmadi, a bodyless parasite.. eseetinally the dark first test a person faces... she just stuck around because she was one for a telepath.. the world’s STRONGEST telepath. But really other than that part the rest just feels like stuff we alreayd heard LAST TIME, mildly repaackaged and seems enitrley like filler to pad the issue out.

So while Jean takes cerebra, both to keep it away from Cassandra’s plans of mutant genocide and for whatever she has planned, Scott, Hank and Xorn prepare to hold the line.. and as Jean mentions.. emma’s still out in the wild.

So we get our climactic showdown.. logan, hank and xorn veruss cassandra, with Cassandra trying to do eveyrthing she can, tear them down mentally, throw out the students with our heroes fighting back best they can. It’s good stuff.

Eventaully Cassandra gets to Jean.. but she’s already inacted her plan, putting a piece of Xavier’s mind in EVERY mutant, and giving Cassandra one ohell ofa reason you suck speech.

It’s an incapsulation of what i said earlier and what the runs about: alone we are weak but together.. we just might make it. More on that as we go. But thanks to Cass naturally going fo rcerberba.. she accidently restores charles and is left bodyless.

Emma finishes the fight with her own brilliant gambit, presending cassandra her body.. but it’s actually stuff , reprogrammed into a sentient brain for her to inhabit and leaving her trapped, with Charles hoping t teach the now mentally reset Cassandra. So Cassandra is beat, the virus is stopped, and our heroes have one.. but naturally for this run.. there’s one last suprise in store.

Charles can walk again.. and going forward will be a far more active member of the team. The team is complete, Cassandra is beaten, and the future.. is bright.

Final Thoughts:

This arc is a mixed bag.. it has really good scenes with the first and last issues being the standouts, with the former being an utter classic with an intresting gimick and the latter being a rousing climax with tons of awesome moments, with some good mometns scattered throughout.

But that’s the arc’s issue.. it has good moments and ideas.. but they don’t quite work togehter. The idea of teh Shiar Imperial Guard nearly doing a genocide is good, but the Shiar are such flat characters.. it’s really hard to care. They just don’t have enough connection to the x-men to really have the betryal sting but aren’t callous enough for genocide protocols to maeks sense. It’s a good idea, I still support it being terrifying.. but not enough is done with it and it feels liek Grant is more concerned with throwing weirdos at the x-men than actually saying something.

The biggest issue however is the art. While inconsitant art is an issue as they’d rotate artists.. but in previous arcs it was usually pretty evenly split but here it’s sloppy: Quitely does the first issue, van Sciver the second.. and the worst of the three Igor Kordey does most of the art. I gave him the beinfit of the doubt last time.. but this time not so much. His art is muddy and tries to be stylized but comes off confusing,ugly and not great. He’s probably a lovely guy but given he’s up against two legendary artists, his lack of style comapred to both shows badly. And given the arc is alreayd a bit overly complicated, it makes things WORSE by giving us muddled art in a very complex storyline. The flip flopping art makes a fairly intricate story very hard to follow. It’s easily why this arc didn’t grab me in the past and even seeing some better moments, it’s not the series best. It’s not the worst either, Planet X easily takes that ground despite having far better art. It’s an incredibly muddled incredibly long feeling arc and really needed to be compressed by one or two issues but instead is just hard to get through. It’s owrth it for the rest of the runa nd the good moments within but all in all easily one of the weakest points in the series.

Next Month on New X-Men:The X-Men soak in the new world order, and we meet fantomex, dust and the last surivivors of genosha.

Next on this blog:Green Eggs and Ham is back!

If you enjoyed this review PLEASE join my patreon. The end of hte month is coming and I need eveyr cent I can get so join at patreon.com/popculturebuffet and i’ll see you at the next rainbow.

12 notes · View notes

howtowhumpyourhiccup · 4 years

Text

Whumptober Day 15: Your Blood On My Lips

Summary: Written for Whumptober Day 15. Set in a Modern Vampire AU. A human/vampire relationship is taboo amongst vampires as it endangers the long-kept secret of their existence and as a result, humans simply don't survive these relationships for long. After spending the last five years with Astrid, it finally catches up with him, too.

Rating: Mature

Characters: Hiccup, Astrid

Pairing: Hiccstrid

Words: 4 204

Fandom: How to Train Your Dragon

Prompt: "Magical Healing”

Whumpee: Hiccup

Author’s Notes: Written for the Whumptober prompt "Magical Healing" because that is technically what happens here, which is why it's not an actual death fic.

Was really excited to get this one done when I first started it, but then I suddenly lost motivation for it and finished it TODAY. Hopefully, it won't be too obvious. :'D

But hey! I reached the halfway point of Whumptober! That's exciting!

Constructive criticism is appreciated!

Enjoy!

Ao3

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

Long after midnight, Hiccup is still up and awake. Having been working on an art commission at this hour, he straightens in his chair and stretches his back before following that up by rubbing the back of his neck.

He's so stiff and he shouldn't still be up at this hour as there is plenty of time for him to be working on this paid commission. It's supposed to be a digital art piece of a dragon that he'd promised by the end of the week.

But then again, that isn't the only reason why he hasn't gone to bed yet as there is still one other reason why.

He's waiting for someone, the love of his life, and she should be here soon.

As a matter of fact, she just got home. He can tell by the soft opening and closing of the front door of their shared apartment, but that is about the only way he can tell. And all because she wants him to know when she's home instead of sneaking up on him like some kind of intruder. Thankfully, those days are far behind them.

He doesn't hear her footsteps in the hallway or the door to their living room opening.

"You're still up." He just hears her voice and feels her hands glide down from his shoulders followed by a peck on the top of his head as she stands behind him.

"You're back!" Hiccup remarks happily and looks up to face Astrid, his girlfriend. His hands are on hers. Hers are quite cool while his are always warm, something she quite likes.

"I am. Not as early as I intended to be, but I'm here now." She tells him, smiling.

"You know you don't need to wait up for me."

"I know I don't, which doesn't mean that I won't." He tells her in return and a kiss is placed on his lips this time. He returns it because how can he not.

They break apart and smile. Her piercingly blue eyes that almost seem to glow gaze down at him while strands of her hair fall down from the sides of her face.

"You are adorable when you look at me as if you're lovesick," Astrid tells him, similarly as engrossed in his beauty as he is caught in hers. Her fingers run through his hair, playing with the wild locks. It's from the dragon-riding, though Toothless isn't allowed to leave the Dragon Sanctuary he lives on.

"As if?" He asks and takes her hand into his own.

Astrid smiles down at him, but then it falters just a tad bit as something pops into her mind, like a reminder. She bites her bottom lip, both out of growing excitement and a slight bit of guilt.

As they haven't changed position at all, Hiccup can't help but notice.

"Hey, I recognize that face. You know you can ask, right? I'm feeling better." He tells her, his neck starting to hurt from all it's been through this evening.

"And you know that I don't want to take more than necessary." She responds, reminding him of her vow to never take more than she needs to, though she hungers.

"But you need it. I can see that you do." His hand strokes her forearm, which is just as cold as her hand is, just as cold as the rest of her is.

She can't argue with him on that. She's been feeling a little weak, a little under the weather, and that means she needs to feed. She needs blood and Hiccup is always ready to offer up his own.

She's a vampire, has been at least for the past couple of decades, maybe a century. She doesn't really care how long it's been, she hasn't cared about time ever since she got turned. Not until she met Hiccup about five years ago when he was 20 years old.

"You're welcome to my blood, you always are." Hiccup tells her, encouraging her to take care of her needs.

"Okay, fine, if you're being this insistent." Astrid straightens and moves to his front. Her eyes never leave his as she walks with a look of both love and a deep desire in them.

Hiccup watches her with slight nervousness, never quite certain what to expect from her. He's been through this a million times by now, but it's still a little bit of a surprise every time. It's her method, that's what changes every time just a bit.

This night, she goes for the direct approach, climbing up on his desk chair with him and straddling his lap. She presses their bodies together and then their foreheads. She can almost feel his pulse against her unmoving chest.

"Thank you for always welcoming me." Astrid thanks him, more grateful than she can ever express.

Smiling, Hiccup wraps his arms around her.

"Of course, I love you." He shrugs, feeling like this is only natural. She'll always be welcome to their home and to him.

Astrid places a peck on his lips, another one he returns, and then she places a hand on his jawline while he cocks his head to the side at the same time. It happens so smoothly, it tells of how many times they've done this before.

Licking the front of her teeth and then her lips, her fangs grow in the excitement of what she's about to do. Bringing her mouth closer to his neck, she lets those fangs caress his neck, forcing him to take a deep breath.

Gently grasping his hair, Astrid pulls his head to the side and places feathery kisses on the side of his neck, taking her time before she bites down and makes her fangs sink into his flesh.

They dig into his neck and Hiccup's body naturally jumps at the pain. He's still holding onto her, hands on her hips to keep himself grounded, as his blood leaves his body to feed and strengthen her. He can feel it leaving him, can feel her draining him. He knows better than to fear for his life, but the instinct to escape from her remains.

He can't deny the rush this gives him, however. It's like jumping from a cliff without ever needing to leave the comfort of his own home. His heart is pounding, it's pounding so loud. But then, he's already full of bitemarks, so he's not unfamiliar with this sensation and he expects it, anticipates it.

There are more than one on the sides of his throat, one side having a few more than the other. One on a shoulder that was put there simply for fun during a moment much more intimate than this. His wrists carry a few of these marks, too, and there is even one mark on a thigh of his. That spot, like his shoulder, wouldn't provide Astrid with any blood either and had been put there purely out of lust.

She likes seeing those marks on him and they will probably stay there for the remainder of his life. They've taken to calling them lovebites and it isn't far from the truth.

Astrid's eyes closed, she can feel him trembling beneath her, can detect his quickened pulse, can hear the barely repressed moans of pain, discomfort, and enjoyment. Hopefully, the neighbors can't hear them like last time.

He doesn't have a bite kink, not quite, but there is still something he's getting out of this. Something only Astrid can give him. There is something intimate about this, something only the two of them can have.

Once fed and back to her original strength, Astrid leaves his neck, and her tongue licks at the blood escaping from the bite mark. She can feel the rush in her body as her significant other's blood revitalizes her.

"Are you okay?" She asks, whispering in his ear, and feels Hiccup nod.

Pulling back, she gazes at his slightly paler complexion, the sweat on his brow, the shivering of his body, the blood running down his neck in a thin line and nearly reaching the collar of his shirt.

She's always liked seeing him this way, trembling beneath her and his blood staining his skin. But only like this, when it's something he has welcomed her to.

Seeing the look in her eyes, Hiccup lets out a breathy chuckle.

"You are such a sadist." He tells her.

"Hiccup, you know I don't do this without you telling me it's okay," Astrid responds with a laugh of her own. And then she leans down again and rubs her nose against his.

"Besides if this makes me a sadist, what exactly does that make you?" She asks, her voice low. Hiccup smiles up at her.

"Tired, for one!" Astrid returns it and moves off him.

"You need some help getting to bed?" She offers, holding a hand of his as she figures he won't be getting up when he feels so weak. Not with his prosthetic.

"I would like to get to the couch. It's movie night!"

"It's almost 3 am," Astrid argues. No way are they pulling another all-nighter, if he even makes it that far.

"Perfect time for a movie, then!" Hiccup insists on having one. There aren't a lot of things a vampire-human couple can do without drawing attention to themselves. So when a movie night arrives, Hiccup looks forward to having them.

Ah, dork. it's the only thing Astrid can think as she relents.

"Fine, movie night." She sighs, knowing he'll be out like a light in less than half an hour.

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Knowing that vampires exist means knowing that there are vampire communities everywhere and that means knowing that the occasional dirty look he gets is from a vampire who knows he shouldn't even be alive. And since Berk has grown from a small fishing town to a slightly bigger fishing town, that means he knows they are here, too.

And seeing him, well, that just makes some of them so angry.

Because there is a reason why every living human still believes they are made up stories and that's simply because humans don't tend to live for very long after they find out. So why should he be any different?

At the very least, he can take comfort in the fact that he may very well be the record holder for "longest-lived human who knows vampires exist". Not the catchiest title, but a title nonetheless.

It's late one night when he's closing up Gobber's blacksmithing and mechanics shop that he feels like he's being watched. Though always on his guard, he doesn't have any reason to think that there's actually something there. All he has to go on is the tingling feeling of eyes watching his back and making the hairs on the back of his neck stand up.

He rolls the garage door down and takes a look behind him, seeing nothing but a streetlight and an empty field as Gobber's is quite isolated. Right next door, there is a gas station, probably the only one in the entire town, but that isn't too comforting.

Seeing nothing behind him, Hiccup decides to take a chance and crouches down to lock the place up with a heavy padlock before heading home for the night.

But then he stands back up and there is a man now standing there, under the light of the nearest streetlight and Hiccup jumps at the sudden appearance. He hadn't heard any footsteps at all.

It's a man, someone he only vaguely recognizes as being from around here. And a vampire, too. The unnatural silence in his sneak gives him away.

"So you're him?" The man asks, no greeting or anything. Never in his entire life, has Hiccup ever heard so much contempt be spoken in three simple words.

Two more people appear and Hiccup only vaguely recognizes them as also being from around here. They definitely dress the part of local vampire. So does Astrid, so maybe that's a vampire thing.

"Hi-him?" He asks, stuttering. He knows that there is no use hiding his growing apprehension from them, they can tell either way.

"Astrid's blood bag."

Hiccup stares at the three, unable to form any sort of meaningful reply. The insult, while on the more unusual side, is not appreciated. It makes him feel like a piece of meat and not as eye candy, but as one meant to be eaten.

Not taking his eyes off them, Hiccup attempts to back away, but hits the garage door and it rattles behind him. They've got him cornered.

"Are you scared?" The one left of him asks as the three stalk closer, nonchalantly approaching as if they aren't planning on ripping his throat out. That or sucking him dry of everything he has.

"When three complete strangers paler than my bleak life expectancy corner me in the wee hours of the night? Not at all!" Hiccup replies, inching towards the shop's door, which he hadn't locked yet.

"Oh look, this one's got jokes, fun." The woman on the right remarks.

"Ah well, what's the point of facing death if you're not going to have at least a little bit of fun? You know, before life flashes before my eyes and I take my very, very last breath." He reaches the door as he talks, planning on diving inside, locking it behind him, and hoping that'll buy him enough time to grab something to defend himself with.

It's not like he's completely unprepared, he's known since Astrid told him what she was that this day, or night, would come.

"Last breath, yes. But it'll take a while." The middle vampire says and as he licks his front teeth and his fangs appear, appear on all of them, Hiccup takes this as his cue that things are about to go down.

As all three of them hiss at him, Hiccup throws the door behind him open, hurrying it closed behind him and locking it. Safe for now.

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

When Hiccup is late that night, Astrid worries. It's not like he hasn't been late before, but knowing the taboo nature of their relationship and those who are against it, she can't help but worry.

She decides to check out Gobber's workshop first, knowing that was where he was supposed to work this afternoon and evening. Sometimes Hiccup can lose himself in a project or job and he needs someone to tear him away from it, she hopes that is what is going on here.

But then she arrives and sees the door to the shop broken open. And if her heart were still beating, it would've stopped.

"Hiccup," She mutters, panic setting in, and she rushes inside. Whether this is a simple burglary or her worst fear come true, she doesn't need to think of her safety. What worries her the most is Hiccup's.

Her worst fear is that vampires are here, that one or more have come to do what Astrid has been refusing to do; finish him off.

She enters the workshop and finds chaos as glass cracks beneath her feet. Not quite like someone ransacked the place in search of valuables, but still messier than she's used to.

"Hiccup?!" Usually, she wouldn't just call out like that, but she can't hear anything and can only conclude that, whatever danger has been here, has already gone.

Hiccup doesn't respond.

So he managed to get away? He's had to, right? Otherwise, this place wouldn't be so quiet and it would be crawling with live vampires.

Is it silly to hope that's what happened? That Hiccup got away and is on his way home now?

But then something catches the corner of her eyes and she looks over, spotting a pair of legs lying on the concrete floor.

The shoes and jeans, they don't look like anything her boyfriend would wear and so she knows that it can't possibly be him, but that only comforts her for so much.

She comes over, caring little for what she thinks can only have been someone with ill-intention, but still needing to take a look as the body may be able to tell her something.

And tell her something it does.

What's lying dead before her in the doorway leading to a small storage area is a male vampire, she can see the fangs and she can see the wooden stake. Though seeing one of the few things that can kill her stuck in another of her kind's chest can still send chills down her spine, what makes her feel cold the most is that only one person could've put that there.

After she told him what she was and that their relationship means others like her might come to kill him, she'd told him to keep a stake, garlic, any and all vampire repellants somewhere closeby. So when she isn't around, he can still protect himself.

He thought it was ridiculous at first, why would anyone be coming for someone as harmless as him? But it turns out he has listened to her concerns.

And clearly, it worked, clearly, he managed to take at least one down by his own hand before he was... So where did he go?

The sound of shuffling and something metal falling to the floor reaches her ear.

"As-Ast-trid?" A wheezy voice reaches her and only because her hearing is exceptional. It's so quiet.

She looks over, gaze traveling deeper into the storage area, and she finds someone lying in a pool of his own blood.

"Hiccup!" She shouts and hurries over, jumping over the dead body to reach him.

He's lying on the ground in a corner, curled up after having slid down from the shelves he was leaning against. She can tell from the red smeared on them.

She kneels by him, helping him when he makes a move to sit up.

"There-there were... There were vampires, three of them. I-"

"Shhh, we'll talk about this later, we need to get you to the hospital." As she's helping him up, getting him to lean onto her and wrapping an arm around his shoulders, she looks at the blood quickly covering her and her clothes.

This time it doesn't make her heart flutter in want and the urge to lick it up and savor every drop of his essence isn't there. Though she's a vampire, all of this blood isn't doing anything for her. As much as she likes the taste of him, this only disturbs her.

There's so much of it.

"Where are you hurt?" She asks, knowing they need to put pressure on the bleeding if they want him to survive. She searches and finds his hand clutching a completely soaked cloth to the side of his throat, exactly where she had bitten him last days earlier.

"Oh no," She gasps and doesn't dare remove his hand to take a peek.

He's not going to make it, she won't get him to a hospital in time. He's already on the verge of bleeding out.

Looking at his face, she can see him slowly blinking, struggling to stay awake.

She's going to lose him. If she doesn't do anything now, he's going to die.

"Hiccup, Babe, I need to hear you say it!" She tells him, reminding him that she can't do anything unless he invites her, too. She has bound herself to this vow after she was turned, she can never break it.

Hiccup gazes up at her, eyes glazing over as he's losing focus.

"Hiccup, you have to give me your consent!" She tells him again.

Slowly, despite his struggles to stay awake, he's going limp in her arms and Astrid watches on in horror, his weight becoming heavier, head resting on her shoulder.

She's losing him.

She's losing him!

But then finally, with his dying breath.

"You're-you're always... You're always w-welcome t... to me." He's giving her his consent. He's agreeing to stepping into this new unknown with her and that is all she needs.

His hand fruitlessly stopping the bleeding falls and his neck is exposed, the horrible wound there is revealed. Astrid leans forward and sinks her teeth into his neck, creating the last bitemark that will ever mark his body. This time not to drink, but to give him a little part of herself that will return him that twinkle in his eyes.

There is no reaction, he doesn't startle like he usually would. There is nothing left inside of him, nothing but the slowly dying embers of his life.

Though the living dead, there are still plenty of tears for her to shed.

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Days later, they're back in their apartment.

That evening, Astrid managed to bring Hiccup back home and put him to bed after cleaning him, dressing him, and treating his injuries. Not the easiest things to do with a dead weight. She also succeeded in getting back to Gobber's shop and removing the dried blood after hours of intense scrubbing.

But now at home, she's sitting by him, watching him almost every hour of the night. The dark curtains have been closed to keep out as much of the sun as she can.

She has bitten him and this time not just to feed. But turning is a process and it always takes a while. It had taken her an entire week. He hasn't grown stiff yet and that means something has interrupted the decaying process. A good thing, it means that she now has to wait until he wakes up again.

Astrid strokes his pale face with the back of her fingers, caressing his cold skin and feeling guilty for being unable to protect him. They took every measurement they could take and Astrid couldn't stay with him 24/7, but though she knows this, she still feels responsible.

She dressed him in his nightwear as if he's just asleep and his throat is bandaged. She doesn't know how that wound will heal after he's turned.

His wrists, they're tied to the bed as you can never know how a newly turned vampire is going to react. He could be completely fine or he could be mad with hunger. Astrid vaguely remembers having lost control when she first woke up.

Then his eyes open and the moment of truth has finally arrived after five days of waiting. Astrid stands up from her chair to settle on the edge of the bed, leaning over him with a hand on the mattress.

"Astrid?" Though confused at first, his eyes find hers and he says her name.

Astrid is relieved and smiles. For a moment in that shop, she feared she would never get to hear him say her name ever again and she's been dying to hear it since.

"Hey there, how're you feeling." She asks and brushes his hair out of the way.

"I don't know... Weird? I thought I was going to die, but then again, I'm not really alive anymore either, am I?" He asks and Astrid doesn't miss the sad tone in his voice.

They both wanted him to live, but this didn't need to happen. He's going to grieve the loss of his own life. Astrid has been through the exact same thing, there's always a grieving process.

Pulling on his wrists, Hiccup finds them tied and he gives Astrid a look, who responds to with a smile before she unties them. So far Hiccup seems to be in control of himself, it's safe to release him.

"I'm sorry for tying you up. You can never tell how a new vampire is going to react when they wake up." She explains and Hiccup sits up, rubbing his wrists.

He thinks for a moment, hands stilling and ending up on his lap. He feels weird and is suddenly very aware of the lack of beating that's going on inside his chest. He's not breathing either, something he also just realized. He's talking without the need for air. Is there anything about vampires that makes scientifically sense?

"This is going to take some time to get used to, huh?" He asks, confused about his feelings concerning this sudden new life of his. Astrid quietly nods, knowing it will.

They've never talked about turning him before. Though they've had plenty of talks about vampires in general, they never talked about whether he would ever end up being turned or if he would get to grow old as a mortal human. He hasn't even given the matter any thought, so he doesn't know how to feel about this.

He does know something, though. He's grateful to Astrid for saving him.

He takes her hand and holds it in his lap, Astrid squeezes it.

"Thank you for saving me. No matter what happens from now on, I'll always be thankful. I wouldn't be here anymore if it weren't for you." He shares his gratitude with her, gazing at her with all the love his unbeating heart has for her.

They kiss and this time Hiccup's lips are just as cold as hers. She'll miss his warmth, but she also finds that she doesn't mind. He's still with her and that's all that matters.

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breezeinmonochromenight · 4 years

Text

I was challenged to rewrite this prompt into something a little more serious/fleshed out with a few inputs from a friend:

Note 1: Why am I still here? Just to [make myself] suffer?

Note 2: This was supposed to go up the day before yesterday, but every time I get Metal Gear asks I just [vibrates uncontrollably and writes an essay]. So, sorry ‘bout that to the anon asking.

Note 3: Higgs is unapologetically on his full creep shit in this. So. Consider that fair warning.

—

Of course she’d get caught wandering through Homo Demens’ territory on her way to deliver a fucking pizza. That alone was bad enough luck for a lifetime. But, in an even more unfortunate turn of events, of course one of those terrorists just had to be the same guy that just couldn’t leave her alone on these god-forsaken deliveries to the middle of nowhere.

The Man in the Gold Mask that she’d had multiple run ins with wasn’t just ‘one of them’, either. Oh, no. She could never be that lucky. Of course he just had to be the leader of the fucking pack, to boot. The entire situation would have made her laugh hysterically, the cosmic irony of it all proving too much for her already fraying sanity, had the business end of a rifle not currently been digging into her temple with the slightest shift in movement.

Unsurprisingly, the ter — she couldn’t bring herself to even think the word, because thinking it confirmed that she’d been fraternizing with a monster — Higgs liked to bloviate in front of his lackeys just as much as he did around her. She could only count the seconds passing by; could practically feel her delivery getting colder through its packaging. She hadn’t been paid for this delivery, and yet, she could feel it being snatched from her hands with each lost moment. Her thoughts inadvertently had her jaw clenching, brows furrowing into a glare at no one in particular. The anger at her current situation and grief over the unfortunate nature of Higgs’ real identity caused a roiling her gut so intense, so immediate and all-consuming, that she found herself half tempted to nudge her guard and see if she couldn’t take an early exit out of the situation.

No pay meant no resources, and no resources meant, well... she refused to be in a ‘no resources’ situation ever again.

She wasn’t the same dirty, starving little lost girl any more. Wouldn’t be. Couldn’t be.

(And though she’d never admit it, she’d grown accustomed to his sudden appearances and self-insertion into her life. He was a random variable that interrupted the stagnancy of her days.)

(He was almost delicate with her when the rest of the world had not been.)

(He was a... friend, reluctant as she was to admit it, and now that had been taken away.)

(She was so tired of things always being taken away from her.)

—

“...Darlin’, I don’t much care for the look you’re giving me or my... associates.” Higgs’ drawl was lazy, almost bored in tone as he came to a stop in front of her.

Hearing that pet name finally interrupted her brooding.

She blinked, fully snapping back to reality when she felt sting of the the rifle muzzle pointed at her digging its way into her temple a little more. Wincing at the resulting thin line of blood trickling down the side of her face from the new cut and the gravel digging into her knees, she flicked her eyes up to meet his expectant gaze as lowered himself to a crouch, their eye contact never breaking.

Well, shit. This was bad.

Had Higgs been speaking to her directly?

Whoops.

“Whatever.”* It was entirely dismissive in tone, but she was spiraling quickly, and couldn’t bring herself to care. If this was how she was going to die, she might as well show some backbone and die with a little dignity. Go ahead and get it over with. “Maybe I really don’t like assholes like you holding me up.”

Was it a stupid thing to say in her position? Absolutely. But what else was there to do? Apologize for wallowing in her own misery and zoning out? Beg for her life?

Yeah, no.

Fuck that.

Her life really wasn’t worth much, anyway.

—

Higgs sneered through his masks at her, hidden face beginning to lose its composure at a rapid rate. It was taking everything in his power to maintain his even facade toward her before removing the physical masks he hid himself behind, especially when he’d noticed in the porter’s eyes that she’d drifted off to a place very far from her current reality.

It felt like a dismissal. Made him feel powerless, like he had for so many nights with his da— when he was a child. And that had infuriated him, especially coming from the one person he couldn’t take his mind off of; that he kept finding his way back to.

Why this reckless little porter got under his skin so easily, he didn’t quite know.

But she did, whether she meant to or not. And the hold she had on him was powerful — so much so, that he could often physically feel her emotions as she was experiencing them. Rarely were they positive, but they served as an easy guide back to her, wherever she may be.

That was why, not long ago, when an incredibly pleasant, persistent tingle down his spine had nearly doubled him over with arousal, this so-called ‘connection’ of theirs had gotten infinitely more irritating to him.

Investigation led him to her private room at Mountain Knot City and, more importantly, to the sight of her being far less mouthy than she’d ever been with him toward some fucking no-name porter... One that she was currently riding late into the night, so desperate in chasing her release that she didn’t notice — or perhaps, worse, didn’t care — that he’d decided to pay her a visit.

Heh. Higgs supposed, in retrospect, that he shouldn’t go there. It was rude to speak ill of the dead, after all. That, and the poor fuck’s corpse had effectively wiped out Bridges Corpse Disposal. So, realistically, he shouldn’t be too angry.

(Except he was. He was still absolutely fucking seething.)

(If only she hadn’t looked so goddamned enticing with her skin glistening from a thin sheen of sweat in the low lights; hair partially shielding her face and biting her lip to hold back the noises of pleasure-pain and her pleas to a god he was sure she didn’t believe in.)

(If only the way she looked with her toes curled and back arched skyward hadn’t effectively rooted him to the spot, unable to look away from the sight of her strong thighs trembling and parting just enough that he could see a tiny, heart-shaped birthmark sitting high on the inside of one of them.)

(If only the thought of claiming that little heart with his teeth before he buried his face in-between her thighs hadn’t left him so painfully, achingly hard that he’d had to bite down on a gloved knuckle to keep from howling as he spilled into his hand later that night. An ultimately useless act, given the perfect visual he now had of how she’d look riding his cock, controlling the pace of her hips until he was finally ready to let her tip over the edge — an image that had him rutting into his hand again in record time.)

(If only, if only, if only. If not for so many if only’s, he’d have killed her ‘acquaintance’ in the act that night.)

Logically, he should have killed her, used her body for a voidout long before now. Forgotten her name and everything about her. She knew his face now, after all, and the last thing he needed were witnesses.

But he couldn’t. There was something about her he couldn’t let go of. Something that made him want to completely devour her, mind, body, and soul. Something about her defiance toward everyone and everything despite being dealt a shit hand that made him see a bit of himself in her.

Still, even though he had no intentions of killing her, he couldn’t let mouthing off go completely in front of his men.

“A word of advice, darlin’?” Higgs gripped her chin hard as he spoke, forcing her to look him in the eye as he ran a gloved thumb over her full bottom lip.

She refused to say anything or to shy away as Higgs tugged his masks off with his free hand, dark eyes catching his blue ones and staring him down fiercely. He kept their little contest going for an extended moment, amused, before leaning in close to her ear, positively delighted at the small shiver he sent through her body.

“Trigger fingers can slip. So might want to work on on keeping that mouth of yours shut, quickly,” Higgs growled out, casual drawl giving way to something much darker, before jerking her head away from him. He was pleased at the further surprised widening of her eyes in response. Flicking his tongue out, he dragged it down a in wide stripe on her cheek, the coppery tang of her blood welcome on his tongue. “...because I’d just hate to see this gentleman put a bullet in that pretty little head of yours.”

He lingered for a few seconds longer, too close to her graceful neck and that remarkably smooth looking skin of hers. She smelled good, sweet, even— faintly of soap and something else he couldn’t identify.

Funny, given her sour personality.

Still, despite his efforts at unnerving the porter, nothing even close to fear was registering on her face — only a look of shock and revulsion, maybe even annoyance with him. “What the f— Look, man, I’m not interested in your business. I just wanted to pass through to deliver a fucking pizza. But I’ll shoot myself it’ll make you just stop. fucking. talking.”

He barked out a genuine, surprised laugh at the unexpected, honest response. He certainly could do that, but given the look in her eyes and the way jaw was set, he knew it wasn’t an act — she’d actually do it.

And that’d be no fun for either of them. She was even more feisty than he’d originally thought. Confusing. Interesting.

And he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t curious to see more.

“Bring her back to my tent and let her get cleaned up, but don’t let her leave,” he ordered her guard her guard before turning his attention back to her. “The pizza girl here and yours truly are going to have a nice n’ friendly little chat about everything that’s happened here today.” He smirked at her near-instant change of expression from completely stone-faced to puffing out lightly freckled cheeks in anger, ready to hurl expletives at him.

Yeah.

Yeah, she was definitely a keeper.

(He was internally mourning the loss of a perfectly good pizza the whole time, of course, but its delivery girl was just too appetizing in her own right not to entertain for a little while.)

(He’d just have to make another order and make it more than worth her while to deliver it. An offer she couldn’t refuse, if he recalled the quote from the old pre-Stranding movie correctly.)

(Cold pizza was for the dogs, after all.)

#higgs thirst tag #higgs x pizza girl #pizza girl x higgs #higgs x reader #higgs x ofc #higgs x oc #higgs #higgs monaghan #death stranding higgs #pizza girl #pizza girl saga #death stranding #norman reedus and the funky fetus #not sfw #writing prompts

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multimetaverse · 4 years

Text

HSMTMTS 1x10 Review

Act 2 was a great finale that capped off a great season though somewhat marred by Disney censorship. Let’s dig in!

Finally Ricky and Nini have found their way back to each other. Sweet callback to Ricky lighting Nini up with his phone as Nini does the same. Breaking Free was great though I had to keep pausing during the EJ to Ricky transition because it was so cringey. Ricky and Nini really do have the best chemistry on the show and it shines through this ep. Joshua did a great job improvising Ricky’’s confession to Nini as did Olivia reacting to it. Tim mentioned in an interview that originally Ricky was supposed to tell Nini that he thinks he kinda you knows in a callback to the premiere but on set he realized that it was too cheesy and decided to let Joshua come up with a confession based on memories of his and Olivia’s real life friendship. That was certainly the steamiest kiss we’ve yet seen on Disney + but it was well earned

It speaks well of Tim that he recognized that his own writing wasn’t good enough and that he trusted his actors to take charge. It also goes to show how much of a difference it makes having the showrunner actually on set in Salt Lake, whether that was Tim or Disney’s decision. It’s a sharp contrast with Andi Mack where Terri the showrunner was based in LA and only rarely visited set while Michelle Manning was the producer in charge in Salt Lake, a split which I think hurt the show in some ways

That rainbow heart sign from the Mathew-Smith family was lovely. It’s great to see Seb’s family of Utah farmers being so supportive. This also confirms that Seb is out to his family, and since Miss Jenn seemed to greet Carlos’ father near the beginning of the ep it’s likely that Carlos is also out to his family

A historic first for Disney with a Seblos cheek kiss. Though of course while it’s progress it still isn’t equality. It’s not so much the Rini kisses that really drives home the inequality since they’re the main couple and were always going to kiss in the finale but rather it’s the Redlyn kiss. It’s not like Redlyn has gotten any real development nor did their story line really need a kiss so early. They got to kiss simply because they’re straight. That being said, it does once more show that the limits are looser on Disney +, we never would have gotten even a Tyrus cheek kiss on Disney Channel

Unfortunately Disney for the second ep this season released promotional photos of Seblos scenes that were cut from the episode itself. It’s not queerbaiting in the traditional sense but it is baiting the audience as they know that a lot of people are very invested in Seblos and seeing that rep on screen and Disney is willing to use that to draw in viewers while cutting the actual on screen rep down. What’s worse is that if it wasn’t for Disney itself letting us know that these scenes existed we’d never know that Seblos scenes were being cut. And of course, it’s a waste of time and money for the show to film these scenes only for them to be cut. A big complaint with Seblos this season has been their lack of development but that seems to be less on the writers who are in fact giving them more scenes then on Disney which is cutting them down to the bare minimum

It’s all shameless triangulation on Disney’s part, trying to be progressive but not so progressive as to alienate conservatives. It’s not like any homophobes are still watching the show after Seblos got together. So far it seems like the Disney censorship on HSMTMTS is coming mainly in post production like it was in Andi Mack S2 with the cut bash mitzvah scene and the edited look back which is awful but is still better than the much heavier censorship we saw in Andi Mack S3 that was coming in pre-production when things like Cyrus being able to talk about his feelings for TJ and vice versa were just never being written. Hopefully Seb being a main character in S2 means that the censorship lessens at least a bit or at the very least stays in the post production stage

In an interview done early on in the season, Tim talked about sometimes taking giant leaps and some times taking small steps in terms of the representation on the show and know we have a much better sense of what that means in practice. There was the giant leap of Seblos getting together at Homecoming and the small step of them kissing on the cheek. Afaik Tim hasn’t addressed the Seblos cheek kiss which is probably for the best and if he does I hope he has the good grace to not lie to the audience about his ability to have gotten an actual Seblos kiss approved. I do think we’ll eventually see a Seblos kiss though I think the earliest that could happen would be the S2 finale

Very telling that Ashlyn assumes EJ is behind Ricky’s exit and not a good look on EJ’s part to not tell Miss Jenn at least that Ricky left. . Good for him though for playing to lose and giving up the role of Troy to help Nini and Ricky. Confirmation that he paid for Gina’s ticket and we got our first Hell Yeah on the show. I don’t like it but it does seem like that scene was set up for Portwell in S2; at the very least it seems like Gina may have started to feel something for EJ

Pour one out for those poor audience members having to sit through that trainwreck of a second act. You know you’re really in trouble when you have to send your choreographer out there as an understudy

I loved Big Red’s little xylophone during the intermission

Nice to see Nini and Gina end on a friendly, supportive note. Hopefully that continues next season

Kudos to Olivia and Matt for really selling the high school theatre actors barely keeping it together on stage aspect of the performance. Nini and EJ have so little chemistry that it’s almost hard to remember that they were dating for several months

Mr Darbus’ office set looked great. Nice touch to have Miss Jenn mouthing the lyrics to Wondering off stage

Lynne really sucks. Can’t say I’d miss her if we don’t see her in S2

Will be interesting to see how Miss Jenn and Mr. Mazzara save their jobs

Realistically I don’t think Nini’s performance was strong enough to earn a spot at YAC; someone like Gina or Seb would have been a much more credible choice imo. Nice touch to have the Dean leave through one door and Ricky the other

Now that the season is done it’s hard to see any traces of whatever more mature direction former showrunner Oliver Goldstick wanted to go in. The whole season seems very coherent and consistent in terms of tone. We did learn from Tim and Olivia that her song All I Want was a re-shoot so maybe it was a replacement for a song or scene that was pushing the envelope more than Tim and Disney wanted

One thing that may or may not be connected is that EJ’s panic attacks from the original character breakdown made no appearance this season and who knows if we’ll ever seen EJ having panic attacks or suffering from anxiety. Disney seemingly had no trouble showing Jonah’s panic attacks on Andi Mack which is doubtless where HSMTMTS took the idea from but it’s also true that Jonah’s anxiety story line was abandoned halfway through S3 and though it’s likely just the result of bad writing it can’t be ruled out that Disney got cold feet over focusing on mental health in both Andi Mack and HSMTMTS

Looking Ahead:

One benefit of this review being so late is that we now know the spring muscial! Beauty and the Beast which seems to suggest that all future musicals will be Disney owned properties

Tim also confirmed that they will still be incorporating songs from HSM 2 and 3 into the show which will certainly help pad out the 16 extra songs they’ll be doing in S2. Having 12 eps will be a big help to the show; 10 eps just wasn’t enough to properly deal with all the characters and plots

HSMTMTS really turned out to be a delight and while I think S2 will be as well there are definitely potential issues ahead that will need to be deftly dealt with. Nini either going away to YAC and then coming back to SLC or just not going to YAC is probably going to be wrapped up in an unsatisfying manner. In all honesty this kind of plot would have worked much better if it had been saved for Nini’s senior year

Whatever plan Ashlyn is cooking up to keep Gina in SLC is also probably going to be poorly done as there’s no reason Gina’s mother would willingly leave her daughter in another state

EJ is either leaving the show after he graduates or they’re going to have to contrive some way to keep him around East High in future seasons

Seb now being a main will be interesting, if nothing else to see what Disney’s limits are. Tim has hinted at their being drama for Seblos in S2 and I hope that it serves to develop them and is not just a means to keep them apart so there can be two gay mains but no gay relationship. As an aside Tim revealed that Joe originally auditioned for EJ which is wild; it’s funny that both Joshua Rush and Joe Serafini auditioned for EJ when neither of them had any realistic chance of being cast

I have no strong feelings on the cast list for Beauty and the Beast though I do think it’s likely that either Kourtney or Gina end up playing Belle as I think having a black girl play Belle is just the type of subversion that would appeal to Tim. Miss Jenn did say that she wanted Kourtney to come speak to her over break and while Gina is a bigger character I’m not sure if Sofia’s singing is quite good enough to carry the lead in the musical while I think Dara’s definitely is

I’d say it’s very likely EJ ends up either as the beast or as Gaston since he’s in what should be his last semester. And if Gina also gets a big role it would make it easier to play with Portwell in S2. If EJ is the beast I could see Seb getting Gaston in another subversion of expectations. Regardless I think with Seb now being a main and with Joe having one of the strongest voices in the cast that he’ll play an important role

Until next season Wildcats

#HSMTMTS #Rini #Seblos #Ricky Bowen #Nini Salazar-Roberts #seb mathew-smith #carlos rodriguez #EJ Caswell #Gina Porter #HSMTMTS Reviews

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celestialholz · 4 years

Text

A Good Day To Die

Hello, dear Qcard squad - happy slightly belated Tapestry Day! <3 I’m SO SORRY this is a little late, though for once it’s absolutely not my fault! I’m visiting some family up in northern England, and there’s been a hell of a storm that’s outed several power lines locally - they’ve only just reconnected this morning, so I’m finally able to pop this up as my laptop now has some charge! I shall be reblogging all your lovely contributions with commentary tags today too. <3

Let me tell you a quick story before the actual one though, friends, of a girl on a Saturday afternoon playthrough of TNG for the first time, about six years ago now; already a huge fan obviously because we’re in series six, already very much in love with Q and the indomitable captain, but I’d wondered here and there: why was Jean-Luc so special? Sure, he was clever and wonderfully diplomatic, even a bit nuanced, and a nice change of pace from Kirk, who I also loved - but where did this spark come from? Why was he a rebel sometimes, when he seemed to play so much by the book most of the time?

... And then we get to this. A fascinating premise right from the word go of an immediately deceased/critically injured Picard, going into the fascination of a void space, a god cloaked in white with his usual wondrous enigma, and what’s always been to me the single finest piece of character exploration in the whole of the Trek canon. It’s intelligent, deeply amusing, philosophical, psychological, fascinating... we watch this man fall apart and rebuild and learn his lessons, and all the while we have this gorgeous chemistry, this blatant and beautiful homosexual coding, between our two stars, with Q’s ambiguous motives and goddamn, I was enchanted.

... Honestly, it’s my favourite fucking TV hour of all time, and it’s my pleasure to finally celebrate its anniversary properly. My great thanks to @q-card for taking my idea and running wild with it, you marvellous being you. <333

I’d planned to make something much grander and mad for this accordingly, but... well, you know how it is. Very long week, depression... eurgh. So instead, please accept something a fair bit shorter but no less lovely: a parable of ancient Egyptian culture, a delicious dose of angst and love, and the promise of forever from a man who really can’t understand the meaning of the word, but wants nothing more than to offer it anyway. Set during STP, and I for one think this would be a lovely way to end it all...

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

It’s fitting, Jean-Luc, he thinks serenely as he disengages the autopilot with a pang of adrenaline, a silent resignation, stoicism etched into his weathered features. Everything has its time, dear man, and you’ve had more than most.

There’s no real other method of death he’d have been content with, if he’s being honest with himself. It’s explosions, fireworks, heat, when he’s too old for any of it physically, when he’s exhausted mentally, but can still lay claim to the most youthful and adventurous spirits, the very soul of a captain; it’s plunging into a supernova at sub-warp to take out the rejuvenated Borg fleet in the resultant fire, beings he abhors so profoundly, is still so very haunted by all these years later, still has nightmares of his time amongst their number.

The protests of his newfound crew echo through his mind, the panic of five minutes prior naturally fresh; a simple plan, ultimately, forged days after he’d discovered their real enemy. Emergency transport, patterns already established, ready for the simple verbal command of a destination within reach; his friends enveloped, incapable of escape without the certainty of scattering to atoms, horror absolute.

“Admiral, you can’t be fucking serious - ”

“This cannot be how our quest ends! I will never forgive you!”

“... No, no, I know that look - JL, you can’t , you bastard - !”

“They took you once, Captain; we’ve won, dammit! There is no need to prove it further!”

He shivers with their regrets, jaw setting in defiance of his actions - it isn’t about proving anything, and he’d imagined Seven of all people would know that good and well. It’s about setting the universe to rights, ensuring continued prosperity from a species who deserve simply to be left in peace, who had been through more than enough to last them multiple lifetimes... to perhaps finally repaying a fraction of the debt he owed to the dead, the assimilated, of Wolf 359. It will never absolve him; nothing ever could.

But he can ensure it never has to happen again - not to him, not to another living soul in this quadrant. This is their last stand, and he will eradicate them. He isn’t a threat, of course - why would he be, in his tiny vessel?

Resistance is not, and never has been, futile, he acknowledges coldly, teeth beared in disgust. You wanted me to lead you, didn’t you? Allow me to make it so.

“Warning: recommend immediate retreat. Heat shields at thirty-one percent integrity; collision course with Elphoric Supernova in three minutes, thirty seconds.”

“Computer,” he announces frostily, “cease warnings.”

“With respect, my dearest admiral, perhaps you’d do well to pay attention.”

His mechanical heart skips several beats in the same moment, frenzy racing up his spine in anger, anticipation, anguish -

He hasn’t seen the speaker in four years, but he’ll turn up for the last three and a half minutes?

The flash claims his vision, the signature ping resounds, and the air falls immediately silent as he stares at eyes that read eternity and burn solely for him.

“Would you mind explaining what the hell you’re doing?”

He takes a full ten seconds of his remaining few minutes to simply absorb his husband’s presence, the faint lines that crease his forehead, the unspoken despair and the silent love and the carvings of exhaustion, and it’s as though something snaps once more back into place in his soul; as though he’s finally returned home after a solid millennia of travelling, embraced instantly by recalled warmth and comfort and precious, precious familiarity.

... Perhaps he ought to be less furious.

“... War’s over then, I take it?” His voice cracks through the stagnant bridge, and for the briefest of moments, he forgets entirely that he’s voluntarily crashing to his own destruction.

Q’s gaze flickers, stricken, and he regards his spouse with disbelief, crouching before him.

“Hardly the moment.” He curls fingers around shaking ones, squeezes tightly. “Honestly, I leave you alone for five minutes -”

“Four years,” Picard intones, hollow, charcoal eyes ablaze. “Four, dammit.”

Q winces, digs finely manicured nails gently into aged skin with sorrow. “Bit difficult to keep track when the universe is falling apart, though I thought my dearly espoused was rather above the ultimate display of tragic hubris.”

“This isn’t arrogance,” Picard snaps in response, suddenly furious.

The god raises a brow, turns from him for a moment to consult the cosmos; he analyses the situation quietly, eyes falling shut before they wrench open in horror.

“... Oh,” he realises aloud, returning a pitying gaze to his husband. “Well, I was planning to take you for dinner, celebrate our reunion, but... it had to the Borg, of course. It was going to be magnificent, you know. All candles, oysters, Risan teal whiskey - imagine you’ve grown a little weary of the family vintage by now -”

Picard’s internal chronometer, borne of years of starship clockwork efficiency, ticks over to ninety seconds, and he’s kissing him with desperation, with the misery of parting, the anxiety of war, the coldness of a universe where no one else can ever quite understand -

It’s brief because it has to be, given the circumstances, but it’s no less intense for it, shot through on both sides with passion and need and loss and reestablished harmony; they break eventually, slipping back to rest foreheads together, and Q is breathless with pain as he whispers.

“My universe has already shattered once, Jean-Luc.”

Picard blinks against the tears that threaten, the anguish that engulfs him at the very thought.

“It’s the Borg, Q,” he explains simply, voice woven with apology.

“... And it doesn’t count for anything that I could click them to dust, I imagine, stop them threatening anyone ever again?”

He smiles warmly, bitterness rich - not at an entity who has been trying to save his people, he could never be angry at that. He’s trying to do the same, isn’t he? Always has.

No, life is merely unfair, and it has to end eventually.

“‘Nothing in his life became him like the leaving it,’” he quotes gently, and a rasp of a sob trips from Q’s tongue.

“Stupid, noble, self-sacrificing idiot,” he breathes, thumb running over the wedding ring unconsciously. “The shen ring, Jean-Luc; you’ve always admired the ancients. The symbol of eternal protection.”

A single tear slips down his cheek, a stammered exhale follows, and he locks eyes to his in true dread. “Please, darling - tell me we can still go for dinner.”

Everything in creation drowns in silence, even as the console roars at him that he’s thirty seconds from death; nothing matters but his words, his long-spoken promise - that his husband absolutely comprehends them.

“I’d be offended we didn’t, frankly,” he whispers. “Haven’t seen you in years, we’re rather overdue a catch-up.”

He kisses his brow tenderly, physically feels the permanence of the relief that bursts through the god; he has to make sure, nevertheless.

“Perhaps tomorrow, we could watch the meteor shower on Tansid VI.” He softly pulls Q’s thumb back to the wedding ring, to the tangibility of what it offers, the vow it proclaims, and runs his own preciously across it. “Croissants. Champagne. Different region, different grapes - I’m not quite bored of that one yet.”

“And the day after?” Q’s voice cracks, brittle as sand.

“Oh, moons of Tanothry Prime, I imagine. Driver’s choice. Though I’d quite enjoy a trip to the Magellanic Clouds, perhaps in a few centuries.”

Another sob, profound this time, raises, stuttered, from his immortal spouse.

“I reserve the right to make it hurt less.”

“Oh, please do, my love. My Thoth.”

Q stifles a laugh, so wondrously enamoured. “The Egyptian god of the dead, of magic and wisdom.”

“‘As for Thoth, he crosses the sky in my presence; I pass safely.’“

“Yes, you do,” the deity vows, adoration warming the severity of his features. “Nothing will ever have to hurt you again, darling.”

It’s a strange experience, dying without fear. He’d been so certain, so determined, but so very afraid.

“Ten seconds to impact,” the computer chimes, emotionless.

“I have a dog,” Picard tells his husband, eyes falling closed. “You wouldn’t much like his name.”

Q smiles tightly, clings to him.

“I do hope it isn’t mine,” he replies dryly, and the human chuckles as the ship ignites around them.

“Oh, it’s so much worse.” He beams tenderly at him, braces for impact. “I’ll tell you later.”

“Yeah,” Q breathes, caressing his ring, and together they burn.

#qcard #Jean-Luc Picard #Q #writing #tng #star trek picard #tapestry day #happy anniversary guys! <3

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raguna-blade · 4 years

Text

So, listening to [https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QQqY7s1-pyo], and that got me thinking about Kingdom Hearts again as occasionally is the case. I’m still a bit steamed about 3 for one reason or another, and probably i should get the DLC down the line, maybe when/if I do a full series dive again since As i’ve kinda gone through it it’s occurred to me that i’ve been 1: Giving it an unfair shake due to personal disappointments, and 2: Giving it an unfair shake because god, please lord the story isn’t (when you get down to it) that complicated but these twists and nonsense make things really obnoxious and hard to track the themes and stuff which I think it does a good job on honestly but it makes it so hard to track sometimes i swear.

But this isn’t about that.

This is a fanfic idea, following the post game of Kingdom Hearts 3 and the idea is simple enough.

Sora falls into the Persona 5 setting, and ends up joining (or at least working with) the phantom thieves.

Including A Persona!

Including A Sweet Rebellion Outfit!

It’s Vanitas!

Wait, hold on.

So the general idea here is again, Sora ends up in the persona 5 world and ends up mucking around with that plotline. If anything, Persona 5R especially is probably a good fit for this considering Maruki and his goings on.

But really setting wise I dig the idea because first off the creatures in the heart of mankind are basically Heartless, Unversed, and Nobodies all kind of rolled up into one. One might make the argument if the worlds are supposed to be completely compatible that Persona’s are basically filling up the last part of the triangle of things that exist with Hearts/Heartless, Bodies/Nobodies, and Souls/Personas.

That last may seem a bit fuzzy since the Link doesn’t seem super straightforward, but it seems to be that the Soul in KH is an animating force in part but also keenly tied to thoughts.

Which lines up fantastically with Persona and Shadows! They’re basically entities made up OF thoughts really when you come down to it. Thoughts and feelings shape how they act, effect the world in general, and in great numbers and concentrations create absurd entities that are a sort of crystalized idea for good or ill.

So I think that part links up well enough yeah.

But what ends up happening though? Well for the moment, the general vibe is this. Sora, now set adrift and kinda just vibing out between worlds and of course desperately trying to cling onto something ends up losing his memories. Well...Not quite losing his memories so much as, he is incredibly damaged by the absolute clownery that he pulled at the end of KH3. That shit is not without consequences, and the fact that he’s not just hot erased really speaks to both Sora’s keen ability to do things that really shouldn’t be doable as well his other critical feature of being able to befriend basically everyone and everything if they’re willing to at least take a step along with him.

Enter Rage Form and Enter Vanitas.

Now I could probably do a whole thing about how Rage Form is essentially Sora tapping into the Powers of Darkness and yet not absolutely getting lost in the sauce like everyone else and why that is...And I will actually, you cannot stop me.

So my going theory in regards to using darkness in Kingdom Hearts is that Using Darkness is, as literally everyone points out, Absurdly Wickedly Dangerous...It is not, however, inherently evil as the games kinda make it out to be. We’ve seen several people use it without going full super villain, and indeed one of the major series leads Makes copious use of Dark Power.

The Problem with Darkness is that well...I guess the way to put it is, Darkness is basically concentrated Heart in a sense. It amps up E V E R Y T H I N G, to dangerous dangerous levels, and if you aren’t paying attention it will cause you to hop off the slippery slope in a hurry because you have to do the thing and you don’t feel any different so it’s obviously not effecting your mind. And it doesn’t precisely, effect your mind and make you evil....But it does cause you to lose restraint, to more or less give into passions to absurd dangerous extents that you may as WELL be evil.

Take Riku for example. He’s probably the clearest cleanest example because he has a whole arc with it, but fundamentally when he starts using darkness it doesn’t exactly make him start being an evil jerk it makes him do the exact same thing he was doing before (looking for his friends, looking for sora and kairi and trying to wake up Kairi especially at the time) and kind of not think, to not consider things that are patently obvious because it doesn’t jive with what he’s feeling at the time.

Basically Darkness (as I think is said at some point? but certainly implied) causes hearts to rage out of control and if you’re dumb with it, if you’re not highly extremely cognizant of this fact you absolutely are going to lose it.

Back to Rage Form, back to Anti Form. Anti Form first actually, and then we can go into Rage form.

See Anti form when it was a thing explicitly was never a thing Sora really had control over. It occurred with Drives yes, but it was always an accident (and notably get’s cancelled out when you fuse with Roxas in the Final Form but another thing) which tracks with the general antics going on with it. It nukes your drive gauge (which let’s you fuse with Donald and Goofy) and it’s actually rather weak on it’s own, in no small part because part of Sora’s whole thing is series wide is obsessively IGNORING how frustrated and angry and all that he is.

Kid has no idea how to actually use his rage in a constructive useful way. As a result, antiform while edgy and possessing some interesting qualities, isn’t really actually all that useful for untrained still stupidly uncannily powerful Sora (Like...I know it’s probably a whole other discussion but I kinda feel like the games both underplay how ridiculous Sora actually is while still at least kinda nodding at the fact that yeah this Kid has single handedly absolutely and somewhat literally decimated every single foe he has come across with disgusting ease? No one takes him seriously and then he’s basically breaking you across his knee, it’s hilarious)

But Rage Mode...? Rage Mode is actually QUITE handy. Offer’s a quick health boost, lots of teleport shenanigans (combo wise yes but hey) offer’s a move to get stronger at risk of health and is an emergency save both in game and story, and while the exact reasoning that he has it is never stated outright, I think it’s also fair to say that Sora as of 3 Is both Coming to grips with the frankly Absurd amount of bullshit that is laid at his feet when he really just wants to chill out with his friends and fuck off for a while (It’s a little unmentioned since Sora spends a large amount of time knocked the hell out but I’m pretty sure from his POV it’s been like the most hellish year possible)

Rage mode is Sora acknowledging the bullshit of his life and actively using it to do things and accomplish his goals, which at the time were basically beat the living hell out of heartless, nobodies and Xehanort (13 times)

It’s an active deal with darkness that may yet actually have severe consequences, but for Fic purposes, we connect from Rage Mode to Vanitas.

Now Vanitas is, for whatever else he may be (and the Unversed Certainly are weird), still a part of both Ventus and Sora’s heart. His Mirroring of Sora appearance wise (and indeed being the opposite of him in that While he may work with others he is decisively something of a loner I think, to contrast Sora’s Friends Everywhere thing).

And I thought, personally, when he was fading away at the end of KH3 that there was something of a lost opportunity. Vanitas was perfectly happy being Darkness, whatever that may exactly mean. But hey, if we’re going with my idea that Darkness=Heart Unrestrained here, then I think it’s not unreasonable to track what’s going on here.

Ventus and Sora both got extremely raw deals, and Vanitas unlike them was able to express that anger, rage, and just...Immense seething I suppose. Taken as a whole really, that’s more or less what his role WAS, to be the outrageous out of control fury of Ventus and Sora, targeting everything that hurt them which, frankly, was pretty much everyone and everything constantly (to say nothing of whatever is going down with the Mobile game for ventus who apparently is involved there so that’s you know...Not helping)

Vanitas being Satisfied as the Darkness of Sora and Ventus (and of course his own being) tracks then. He really would be fine kicking it because he was spent basically. Those two had more or less at that point burned out the rage and fury and overwhelming emotions, had brought it to heel, had taken it under control and all that.

But I can’t imagine Sora willingly letting someone fade like that. It’s not that he’s soft, or won’t put down bad guys. He absolutely will and does. I don’t think he’ll be happy about it, but he’ll do it, and I think if he has any idea of what’s gone down with Ventus and Vanitas he would be willing to, if the opportunity arose, basically give Vanitas a place to crash for all intents and purposes.

So. Remember when I said Sora has a Persona, a Rebellion Suit, and that it was Vanitas?

Part of the entire thing with Persona is, in fact, dealing with your shadow self. Shown primarily with dealing with negative aspects of yourself, but it involves all untapped aspects of you right?

Vanitas is a near perfect Shadow of Sora, being about as far on the opposite side of the spectrum as you can get. Arrogant, Self Absorbed, Callous, Lonely, yeah? But also, genuinely skilled and powerful, more than capable of reading others, and a solid lone operator. And thus, as a Shadow of Sora he’s basically perfect for a kid who is now on his own.

But Persona’s aren’t shadows precisely. I mean they literally are, but they’re shadows put to purpose, controlled, a specific mask put forward to the world to deal with it.

And Sora right now, alone, forcibly separated from his loved ones again, and much more permanently this time, turns to someone who he took in in his heart for perhaps not kinship at least commiseration. And Vanitas in turn responds in kind. Sora’s a nice kid but he’s not really properly in touch with the darker aspects of himself. This is a problem, not because ooooooo you gotta have darkness edge edge edge, but more because Sora has already USED darkness before. At the time it was safe enough because he was focused had a goal and all that.

But Now? Oh now Sora is basically in a situation where he might reasonably reach out for those dark powers and he is not in the right headspace to try and do that safely 1 and 2 I don’t think genuinely has a good enough grasp of his own less than great inclinations that could lead to him SCREAMING off the slippery slope into bad time junction.

Now Vanitas isn’t really fully doing this out of the kindess of his heart here. He want’s to do what he wants and that’s cause a degree of mayhem, get into fights, just in general kind of fuck off and do his own thing in the same way that Sora does except you know kind of more maliciously (though I genuinely suspect that a Vanitas without an immediate thing to do probably would just kinda...go somewhere and be moody. He seems the type. With a task though well different story, but sans one? And hey, the old man isn’t around to push him around anymore)

So Vanitas functionally becomes his Persona Here, which ties back to the way earlier mentioned point. Sora is a little broken here, but he has a certain understanding of both what’s going on with Tokyo when he get’s there (something stupid is happening at the bottom of mementos involving a heart. Guess it’s Heartless Stomping Time) even if he’s not fully on board with everything because of yet more missing memories, but for the moment, he doesn’t have the full power’s he really had before. He needs to lean on darkness here not just to stay as a whole person, but to also find his way home. And of course, this requires darkness.

Some of you may be seeing the grim and stupid pieces lining up here, so for you, just hold your head in shame and prepare the finger wagging.

So we have vanitas as a persona, more or less. Cool, fine.

And predictably, his rebellion outfit would more or less be a flavoring of Vanita’s armored up form, albeit probably a bit more kingly given Sora’s king motif.

But he’s not a royal here no. He’s looking for something. Going after a thing hidden deep in the darkness.

And as a proper phantom thief needs a code name, Why not call the guy who’s seeking something in the darkness. Why not call him a-

Why not Code Name Seeker for Sora the Phantom Thief eh? eh?

And that’s about the limit of what I got on this idea honestly. I know that Sora is still his lovable goofball self in a general sense, because Edgy Angst Sora isn’t really fun or I think true to the character really, but I think he’d probably be at the very least a touch more bitter than he has been, and perhaps for once in his life, just not feeling making friends at the outset. Up until a problem occurs and he see’s these other kids dealing with both unmitigated bullshit and being absurdly way over their heads.

Also, Yaldabaoth getting his carefully cheated game absolutely derailed, perhaps much sooner letting Maruki do his thing, perhaps letting him do a slower more thorough and less rushed job of things and having the Phantom Thieves + Sora + Akechi Have to deal with it is kind of fun.

Especially since Maruki as Antagonist in this case would be interesting considering probably 1, Akechi would Almost Certainly Be Alive (unambiguously), 2, Haru’s Dad would probably be alive leading to Shido getting his shit wrecked way sooner (I would expect that Haru’s still going to mostly deal with the same general problems given her dad would be in jail albeit still alive. At least in a broad sense, the specifics will very certainly be different), 3, It’d let Akechi get in on the fun of having his “dream” world realized in gaining the phantom thieves as perhaps genuine friends minus at least the baggage of him being the murderer of someone they personally know. He’d still need to atone, and I can’t imagine them letting him off the hook for that, although in the immediate sense absolutely yes they would because Maruki pulling antics (probably more hidden this time I would imagine), and until they fix things at least it’s not like he actually CAN turn himself in because Idealized World is bending over backwards to absolve him which is probably still bullshit in his eyes (He did the crime he’ll do the time damnit!)

And meanwhile Sora is busy dealing with his PTSD basically, while Vanitas crashes on his mind couch and occasionally steers while Sora deals with the mess going on on the inside.

yeah.

Feels good to get that out of the system for the moment.

#Kingdom Hearts #Persona 5 #a fanfic idea that just kinda keeps popping back up #Spoilers #Vanitas #Sora #Some Kingdom Hearts meta

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snowdice · 3 years

Text

Big Bang (Sort of) Editing Story [Day 57]

I’m going to do this and chill for a bit. Then maybe force myself to do my grading later.

Chapter 27

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

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

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

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

Patton frowned sympathetically. “Too loud?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I know, ma’am.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Okay,” she said. “Well, I’m going to have a few more specific questions, but let’s just start with what are your favorite foods?”

“I’ll eat anything,” Virgil replied immediately.

“He really likes chicken alfredo,” Patton contributed.

Virgil perked up at the name of the food. “I did like that,” he agreed.

“Alright,” Ms. Heart replied. That’s a start.

Chapter 28

He could also guess what had happened to illicit such a response. Thomas had caught up to Jeffers Deknis in his garden and they’d spoken at length about Logan and Patton’s new friend.

Thomas had sussed all of that out before the kitchen worker bringing him his dinner had mentioned what had happened that day.

That in mind, he decided to wait until after dinner should have been cleaned up before walking his own dinner leftovers down to the kitchens.

Helen took the tray of leftovers from Thomas herself and shooed the dishwasher out of the way. “I’ll handle the rest myself,” she told the girl. “You can leave.”

“It take it she met Virgil,” Thomas said to Jeff.

“She’s adopted Virgil,” Jeff replied, taking a bite out of a cookie.

“And what of it?” she asked. “Someone obviously needs to feed the boy. Speaking of, you’re grounding your son by the way.”

Thomas took one of the cookies for himself. “Why am I grounding Logan?” he asked.

“He was worried enough about his health to make him a nutrition potion, but still did not bring him to me,” she harrumphed.

“I see,” Thomas replied.

“In Logan’s defense,” Jeff interrupted. “the boy seems rather timid. He may have worried about you scaring him off.”

Helen slapped him with a dishtowel.

“Actually,” Jeff continued. “From what I’ve gathered he didn’t have contact with anyone since the time I saw him a couple of weeks ago until now.”

“I did get that impression, yes,” Helen said, pouring the hot water from the kettle into a tea pot and carrying it and some cups over to the table.

“Where did he come from?” Thomas asked.

“I’m not sure,” Jeff said. “I found him hiding in the garden shed a couple of weeks ago.”

“Did he sneak in?” Thomas asked.

Thomas took a sip. “Earl Grey,” he commented. “I guess I’m not sleeping much tonight.” It was her ‘planning tea.’

“We need a plan,” she said, “but we’re going to have to be gentle.”

“At least with Virgil,” Jeff said.

Thomas laughed lightly, “and what do you plan to do with the other two?”

“I have my ways.”

Helen rolled her eyes. “You say that,” she said, “but you’re too soft. The two of them learned to run circles around you and your powers years ago.”

“We should talk to them though,” Thomas said. “Separately from Virgil.”

Helen took a drink of tea, it seemed to calm herself. “We need to make sure whatever has been happening to him is not happening in these walls,” she said.

Thomas had honestly… not thought about that. He’d assumed whatever made Virgil so skittish was in the past, but it was possible that it was ongoing. The thought made him sick.

“Perhaps you should try to talk to him, Thomas,” Helen suggested.

Thomas winced. “I am not sure that is a good idea...”

“Why not?”

“We don’t have the best track record… I don’t think me being around him would be a good idea.”

“Oh, please, Thomas,” Helen said disbelievingly.

“No, you don’t understand,” Thomas said. “He seems disproportionately afraid of me. I think it’s a mix of me being king and how we met.”

“How did you meet?” Helen asked.

43410

Jeff nodded. “I will try to talk to him a bit more.”

Thomas met Jeff’s eyes. Yeah, it was going to be a long night.

Chapter 29

“Finished?” Logan asked.

“Yeah,” Virgil said.

“Sounds good,” Virgil said. “I don’t care what we do today though.”

“Well, there are a few options,” Logan said.

“What do you want to do?” Virgil asked.

Logan made an expression, and Virgil titled his head. “I’m don’t have anything in particular I want to do,” he said.

“You’re lying,” Virgil said immediately.

“You would not be interested in the activity I wish to partake in,” Logan said.

Virgil squinted at him. “I’d be interested in laying on the ground and staring at the ceiling.”

Logan chuckled. “No, truly. The activity I would do if you were not present would involve reading.”

“You can read to me,” Virgil suggested.

“…In Sanskrit.”

Virgil frowned at him. “Isn’t that, like, some sort of dead language?”

“That’s fine,” Virgil said. “You can do that.”

“It would be in the library,” Logan said.

“Okay.”

“But…” Logan said. “It would in no way be interesting to you.”

Virgil shrugged. “Like I said. I’m content to lie on the floor for a few hours.”

Logan frowned. “I can’t make you do that.”

“You wouldn’t be making me,” Virgil said. “I want to go. Maybe you can find me an easy book I could try to read?”

“Are you certain?” he asked.

Virgil nodded, decisively.

“Very well, get dressed and I will show you the library.”

Virgil stood to do so and a few minutes later, Logan was leading him out of the royal wing.

Both of the guards greeted him kindly, and Virgil hunched his shoulders in a bit, but said a soft “hi.”

The library didn’t end up being too far away. It was through the small dining hall and to the left where the staircase to the kitchen was to the right.

“I’ll look and see if there is something simple for you in case you’d like to read. You can explore a bit if you’d like,” Logan said.

Virgil heard Logan’s footsteps approach from down an aisle. “That’s the Pragilium text,” he said.

“It’s pretty,” Virgil said, looking at the design etched into the cover.

“You can read that?” Virgil asked.

“I can,” Logan said. “Very few people can though.”

“Wow, you’re really smart.”

“Thank you,” Logan said with a smile.

He handed him the book and Virgil took it with a smile. “I’ll try to read it,” he said.

“Well, you have free reign of the library. Feel free to continue to explore and to interrupt me if you need to.”

Virgil had, of course, known flowers grew from seeds, but it was interesting to see things about how the stem would pop out of the seed in the ground and things about the roots growing.

He more looked through the pictures than read it the first time but had flipped back to the front to try to read the words when he heard the library door open.

Virgil perked up in awareness, but then settled when he recognized Patton’s footsteps. Virgil tilted his head to watch as he walk directly to Logan’s hideaway.

“Hi,” he said, gaining Logan’s attention.

“Hello, Patton,” Logan replied. He glanced at the window and must have seen that time had passed because he closed his book and shuffled his papers.

“The guards said you came here,” Patton said, glancing around. “Where’s Virgil?”

Instead of letting Logan answer that question, Virgil pulled himself forward, with the book in one hand and slid off the bookshelf to land lightly on his feet next to Patton.

Patton screamed before slapping a hand over his mouth.

Logan had placed his hand over his heart. “Where on Earth did you come from?” he asked.

Virgil blinked at him and then pointed to the bookshelf he’d been on top of.

“How long were you up there?” Logan asked.

“Pretty much the whole time,” Virgil answered.

“I…” Logan said. “I didn’t even know.”

Virgil squinted at him. “You need to learn to look up.”

Patton giggled.

Virgil turned on him. “You need to learn to case the area.”

“Oh honey, your shirt is all covered in dust,” Patton said instead of responding to his very valid criticism. Virgil frowned. “Let’s get you changed and then go grab some lunch.”

“Lunch?” Virgil asked.

Patton chuckled and grabbed his hand. “Yes, sweetie, lunch. Then garden.”

“Fine,” Virgil said. “But you do need to learn to be more observant.

“Yes, yes, whatever you say,” Patton said.

Logan just rolled his eyes.

Chapter 30

Mr. Deknis looked up as they approached and smiled at them.

“Hello, Mr. Deknis,” Patton said as they came closer.

“Hello you three,” Mr. Deknis said. “Getting into trouble?”

“No,” Virgil said, shaking his head.

Mr. Deknis gave him a flash of a smile. “I know, I’m joking,” he said. “Especially since there isn’t much left in my gardens for certain princes to destroy with experiments.”

“Oh, okay,” Virgil said. He tilted his head. “What are you doing?”

“I’m getting the last of the acorn squash out,” Mr. Deknis replied. “It’s the last crop to get finished. Good thing too, it’s supposed to start snowing soon.”

Virgil looked down curiously at the dark green squash.

“Would you like to help me pick a couple?” Mr. Deknis asked.

“Sure,” Virgil said, sounding interested. Mr. Deknis patted the ground beside him and Virgil knelt down to watch him.

Mr. Deknis looked up at Patton and Logan. “Would the two of you like to help?” he asked. “I can get some more equipment.”

“I can help out if you want, but you don’t need to stop and get more equipment just for me,” Patton said.

“The same for me,” Logan said.

“Well, if you’d like to help still, you can sort the leave. Give your mother a head start.”

“Sure,” Patton said. He and Logan went to do that while Mr. Deknis and Virgil worked on cutting the squashes from the vine.

“What do you do during the winter?” Virgil asked curiously. “If this is your last crop.”

“Seedlings?” he asked.

“I let seeds start to grow in the greenhouse that I replant once it gets warm enough.”

“Why don’t you just plant them where they’re going?”

“I do for some,” he said, “but giving some a head start is good for them.”

“Say yes if you want to Virgil,” Logan said.

“He’s exploring,” Logan said, nodding at the large patch of bushes.

Patton chuckled. “I see.” He sat next to Logan. Every so often he’d hear the bushes rustle, but he couldn’t tell if it was actually Virgil or an animal.

“He’s adorable,” Patton commented, keeping an ear out.

Logan hummed.

“I’m glad we kept him.”

“He isn’t a pet, Patton.”

“I’m going to go see what he’s doing,” Patton said. “I’ll be right back.”

“Ghost kitty!” he said, making sure to make his voice as quiet as possible.

“This is Ghost Kitty?” Virgil asked. “I thought you said she was hard to pet.”

“She is,” Patton said. He lowered himself onto the ground from a few feet away from them. “How did you get her to come to you?”

Virgil glanced down at the cat and shrugged, scratching one of her ears. “She just came over to me and let me pet her.”

“Wow,” Patton said softly. He looked at the cat. “Could I pet you sweetie?” he asked, holding out a hand in her direction. She hissed again.

Virgil frowned down at her. “It’s Patton,” he said as though he expected to understand his words and the exasperation in the tone he said them in.

Chapter 31

“Ah,” he said, immediately identifying the reason for Patton disappearing.

“Logan!” Patton said, his voice excited, but also quieter than normal. “We found a kitty!”

“No,” Virgil told the animal as though it could understand words. “That’s Logan. Be nice.”

The cat still glared at him and swished it’s tail back and forth threateningly. Virgil pet the top of it’s head and it broke eye contact with Logan to purr.

Patton seemed delighted by the purring, reaching to stroke under the thing’s chin carefully. “We should give her a name!” Patton said.

Virgil frowned. “I thought her name was Ghost Kitty.”

“But that was a temporary name,” Patton said, “for before we officially met her. Now we have to give her a real name.”

“Do not give it a name,” Logan said. “You will get attached.”

“How do you name a cat?” Virgil asked.

“Do not name it,” Logan said.

Virgil looked at the cat. “She’s completely black,” he said.

Patton hummed. “So, we could give her a name based on that like Midnight or Shadow.”

“Those are fine,” Virgil said.

“No, no,” Patton said. “I’m just giving you examples. You get to name her yourself.”

“This is a bad idea,” Logan said.

“Just throw out some names,” Patton said. “Anything you can think of.”

“Uh,” Virgil said. “Knife.”

“…Just Knife?” Patton asked.

“Nightmare.” Virgil seemed to think about it. “No, that’s mean.”

“How about things you like?” Patton suggested.

“Alfredo?”

Oh no, Logan thought, he was worse than Patton at cat naming.

“Good start,” Patton said. “Logan, do you have any suggestions.”

“Cat,” Logan said.

“Real suggestions,” Patton scolded.

Logan sighed and thought for a moment. “Aphrodite.”

“Catphrodite!”

Logan glared at him. “Helena.”

“Helenpaw.”

“Claudia.”

“Clawdia.”

“Persephone.”

Patton smiled at him, cheerfully.

“…Damnit!”

Patton turned to Virgil again. “Like that! They don’t even have to be serious. Like, uh, you could name her Madam Fluffywuffykins the Great!”

“Do not name her that,” Logan said, scrunching up his nose.

Logan sat on the ground, the cat eyeing him, but no longer hissing. Logan gently guided them towards more sensible names despite Patton trying his hardest to drag them into stupidity.

The cat made a sound and batted at Virgil’s face without claws to grab back his attention.

He turned back to it and bopped its face with a finger in kind. It attacked his finger, but in a clearly playful matter as it still did not extend it’s claws and its teeth did not draw blood.

“That’s a great name, Virgil,” Patton said.

“Much more pleasant than any that Patton suggested all afternoon,” Logan said. He received an elbow to the side for his quip.

“A pretty name for a pretty kitty,” Patton said, scooting over to where Virgil was sat and attempting to pet Marisol’s head. Marisol, however, was too keyed up and batted at the hand.

“I love you too!” Patton said.

Logan rolled his eyes, but he had long since resigned himself to watching the two of them play with and coo over the cat for the rest of the day.

Logan immediately felt unreasonably guilty, probably more so because Logan did not think Virgil was trying to make him feel guilty. “…Bring the dammed thing inside.”

Virgil blinked up at him. “What?”

“It will get cold soon anyway,” Logan said.

He frowned at Logan from where he was crouched. “But you don’t like fur in your room…”

Virgil nodded immediately and swooped Marisol up in his arms. The cat went without complaint. “Thank you!” he said. “I love her.”

Chapter 32

“Uh,” Patton said. “Have you seen Virgil?”

“No,” Helen said. “Why.”

“Er… Logan and I sorta, lost him,” Patton said. He was wringing his hands anxiously. Helen put down the knife in her hand.

“What do you mean you lost him?” she asked.

“Um, we don’t know that,” Patton’s mouth said while his eyes said ‘no.’

“He needs to be on a consistent diet, especially when he’s still taking the malnutrition potion,” she scolded.

Helen grimaced. Yet another concerning thing.

The newly illuminated figure startled as the lights came on, whipping around to stare at her with wide eyes.

“Virgil?” she asked.

“Sorry,” he said immediately, taking a step back.

“It’s fine,” she said immediately, “but what are you doing here?”

He considered her for a long moment, but apparently, she passed some sort of mental test, because he relaxed, at least as much as he’d ever relaxed in her presence. “Where are we?” he asked.

Her brow knit together. “The cellar under the kitchen,” she said, “You don’t know that?”

He shook his head.

“The only entrance is from the kitchen.” Now that she thought about it, she hadn’t seen him go through the kitchen at any point.

“No, it’s not,” Virgil said. “There’s a tunnel.”

“Yep,” he said.

“Where’s the tunnel?” she asked.

“How did you find this?” she asked.

She couldn’t help but laugh a bit at his explanation. “Well, it sounds like you went on an adventure,” she said, “but Patton and Logan have been trying to find you. You missed lunch.”

He tilted his head at her. “I know. I was supposed to hide.”

“Yes,” she explained, “but you are supposed to come out at some point if they can’t find you for things like food.”

“Oh,” he said.

“They probably should have explained,” she said. “For now, why don’t we get you something to eat? You must be hungry.”

Virgil frowned. “But I missed lunch.”

“You can still eat even though it’s not in normal hours,” she said. “You could even if you had made it to lunch.”

“Really?” he asked, he looked tragically confused by this offer.

“Of course, sweetie,” she said. “In fact, I insist you get something good to eat right now. How about I made you a grilled ham and cheese sandwich? Maybe some cookies too!”

Virgil titled his head. “You are Patton’s mother,” he stated.

Helen laughed softly. “He gets its all from me,” she said. “We should probably go find him and tell him you’re okay. He was worried.”

“I didn’t mean to worry him,” Virgil said with a frown.

#proofread stories #not writing #not pieces fic

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