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repentarium · 1 year

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the truth is i've been dreaming of this tired, tranquil place tag 9/??

ao3

Eddie has this way sometimes of looking at someone, at Steve, and seeing through any walls, no matter how carefully constructed they are, reading the DNA and the writing in his bones, and acting like it's normal, like it's nothing. Like his eyes, dark until the light hits them just right and shines them up, have some kind of superpowers. In Hawkins it wouldn't be out of the question.

For Steve, who hasn't really had anyone care in such a meaningful way, not really, not ever, it can feel huge and nearly overwhelming.

They've been living in the apartment over the cafe for a little over two months when Steve gets a call. It's the early evening, and he and Eddie had just sat down to dinner and TV. When the phone rings, Eddie is on the way back from the kitchen with a couple of beers, so he snags the phone on the way.

'Hawkins Morgue, you slash 'em we stash 'em, this is Eddie.' His eyes widen and his posture straightens and he says 'yes sir', then props the phone up and flips it off, whispering 'your shit dad' at Steve as he heads back to the couch. He hands him his beer on the way, then uses his free hand to ruffle what Steve is sure is calm vibes into his hair. He cheers him and flops onto the sofa, and Steve drains half of the bottle in preparation before he even stands.

'Hello?! Steven?'

'Hi.' he says, mostly because he knows his dad hates the greeting, thinks it's 'too casual and unprofessional'.

'Good god I thought you were in a ditch somewhere, I had to call the video store to get your number! Where are you?'

If you wanted to get really technical about it, Steve hadn't told them he'd left the Harrington house, not really. He'd left a message with his dad's office assistant and then kind of forgotten about it, honestly.

'I moved out.' He learned long ago that short and to the point worked best with his dad; he was going to get mad no matter what, and stalling just made it worse.

There's a long silence on the other line, and Steve meets Eddie's eye and takes another drink while he waits for his dad to process. Eddie sends him a thumbs up.

'Out of the house? With what money?'

'With my money.'

'Well that's smart, wasting your tiny paycheck on what, some apartment? And leaving the house completely empty, too, who knows what-'

'You left it empty, Dad. I'm not the one who bought the damn thing.'

'Well you're going to get back here now so we can talk about this and you'll move your things back in. Use your head for once, your mother is worried sick.'

'We've been here for like… two months?' he looks at Eddie again, and he holds up three fingers, waggles them. 'Three, three months. And you never returned my calls and haven't said anything to me the whole time.'

'That's bullshit and you know it, Steven-' Steve hangs up the phone, delicately unplugs the cord from the back, and sits down to have dinner. Eddie gives him a high five when he sinks into the couch next to him and they don't talk about it again.

—

Sometimes when Steve is working during the day and Eddie isn't, Eddie will bring him lunch. Usually just a sandwich and a Coke, maybe a handful of chips in a little bag, but it's one of the nicest things anyone has done for Steve and he keeps doing it.

He always plays it off, says it's not a big deal, he needs to get outside anyway or he'll just hang around in his underwear all day or whatever, but it's a big deal to Steve.

It's a slow day and he's sure Eddie will come by any minute, he knows it’s his day off; he's waiting around, bored, when he hears a commotion outside. At first he ignores it, thinks it's not his business as long as it's humans and it’s not his humans, but he hears a loud and dramatically enunciated 'fuck off' that he recognizes and he's past the counter and through the door before he even realizes.

Eddie's just outside of the Family Video, hands up in a placating move even though his eyes are hard and angry enough Steve can see them from the door.

There's a small group around him, none of them the original headhunters from when he was wanted for murder, but enough of them in Hawkins Tigers jackets Steve knows exactly what's happening as he walks up behind them. The fact that they're a new generation doesn't change the way they'll be.

'There a problem here, fellas?' he walks up behind the group, claps a hand on the shoulder of the one closest to him so he can shift him to the side and walk through. As he gets closer to Eddie, he sees a crushed little paper bag on the ground. He nudges it with his toe and looks Eddie in the eye, and they have one of those telepathic conversations that go ‘are you okay?’ and ‘yeah’, communicated in a tension in the eyes and a lifted brow.

Steve knows he fell from grace a long time ago, but he also knows while he was in school he made enough of a name for himself that standing next to Eddie means something, even in his annoying work vest, and even against the young shitheads across from him that he’s sure he’s never even met.

'Harrington, fuck off.'

Okay, maybe it means a little less these days, but it's not like he's gonna leave Eddie alone out here so he stands straight, arms crossed, an inch away from Eddie's arm in what he hopes is obvious solidarity.

'Buddy, I don't even know your name but you're barking up the wrong tree here.' He makes the mistake of glancing at Eddie and sees him mouthing the word 'barking?' back at him in disbelief and it almost makes him burst into laughter, but he's shaken back to seriousness when the mouthy one talks again.

'What are you, his fucking boyfriend? We should have all guessed, you stick together, you fa-'

'Get the fuck out of here.' Steve escalates from annoyance to the kind of absolute anger that has him swinging a bat at a creature so scary these idiots would never imagine, biting into the leather of a demobat, slamming it against hard craggy ground. It's a fast enough transition that it's like his adrenaline is overwhelming, like he could actually fight the whole group on his own with no punches pulled even if they are human kids, just a group of a different kind of hive mind.

He'd do it, too, in that moment, it's like his muscles are coiled and tense and just waiting for a wrong move. The mouthy one must see something in the set of Steve's jaw and the grit of his teeth, or maybe his eyes look a little wild, because he scoffs and kicks the paper bag on the ground at him, gets too close to him and shoves a shoulder against his as he passes, but he does pass, and the rest of his gang of asshats follow him off, laughing and shoving at each other and probably off to ruin someone else's day, someone who won't put up as much of a fight maybe. Steve watches them go until Eddie clears his throat, his hand on his arm making him jump a little.

'Hey, it's okay.'

Steve looks at him and swallows, feels shaky. 'Yeah, sorry, yeah.'

'Don't apologize, man, you probably saved me a tussle. You were a little scary though. Not, like, to me, but it felt like you channeled a little Hell Babysitter, you know. Metal.' Eddie's hand is still on his arm and he pats it a little before leaning down. 'Those monsters got your sandwich, though, I'm afraid.'

'Come back in with me anyway? It's slow.' Steve doesn't say 'I still feel weird and shaky and my stomach hurts bad enough I don't think I could eat it anyway' but he bets Eddie can tell what he means with his weirdo insight because he follows him in with a hand at his back. He tosses the crumpled up bag into the trash as they go in, and he sits with him behind the counter, feet up by the register, as he calms down a little.

All at once it's like the adrenaline leaves his body and Steve is exhausted and feels crumpled and his stomach is still all twisted up. Eddie pulls a bottle of Coke for each of them out of his inner jacket pockets and opens them braced against the countertop with a crack of his palm, one at a time, and hands one to Steve.

He should get stock in Coke or something, he is thinking loopily as he takes a drink, the sugar feeling sticky in his mouth. He uses it like medicine so often. His dad would call it a smart investment.

'You okay?' Eddie is watching him with big concerned eyes over his own bottle.

'I should be asking you that.'

'But I'm asking you. You seem a little peaked.'

'Adrenaline, man.'

'And probably PTSD.'

Steve just hums at him, takes another drink. Eddie swings his long legs back down and walks around the counter to the snacks, grabs a bag of potato chips and a couple of candy bars. He pops the chips open and brings them back around to share with Steve.

'Thanks for sticking up for me, though. Less scary to face a horde with you on my side, you know. We could have taken them.' he makes a half-hearted fisticuffs gesture, and it makes Steve chuckle.

'I think we could have. We have enough freak energy between the two of us that it would have given us an edge.'

'Amen to that. You're getting it now, Harrington, the appeal of the freak.' Eddie taps his bottle against Steve's, and Steve thinks he hasn't called him Harrington in what has to be months. He hums into his drink, tears open a candy bar.

It takes him a long time to feel like his heart is consistently beating normally, between the phone call from his dad that he can’t quite shake and the guys outside and Keith yelling at him for marking more snacks as damaged in the inventory, but when he gets home Eddie has made them a sweet little snack plate for dinner, which is one of Steve’s favorite things because you can have two bites of like a million little cheeses and veggies, and it’s not so bad.

The next day, though. The next day is hard.

He's got the day off from Family Video, which usually means he'd find something to do to get out of being home alone. The thing is, there's a cold front, paired with a light rain, and it's so hard to motivate himself to get out of the house.

The kids are all in school, and he only gets through to Robin for a few minutes on the phone between classes before she has to hang up, quicker than he'd have liked. It was good to hear her voice, but God does he miss her.

He's feeling… itchy. Like his skin is freezer burnt and scratches against everything it touches, like his muscles are jumpy and his eyes are dried out.

It used to be when he was feeling itchy, floaty and unmoored, he'd go on a date, go play basketball, maybe have a party and invite people over to play in the pool or dance smushed together, but it's never really been this bad. He thinks it's maybe because he hasn't done any of that for so long, and maybe because he hasn't seen Robin since school picked up, and maybe because he's been working full time and it's cold outside. It's probably a little bit of everything, but it's making him feel kind of bitchy and like he should lock himself in his room before Eddie gets home, not that that would help himself at all but maybe it would keep Eddie safely out of the blast range.

He'd said he'd have dinner ready, though, and he's not going to skip out on that, so he's rushing through making it in hopes he can leave it warm on the stove and be 'asleep' by the time he gets back.

Of course he's not lucky, he's never been lucky, really, and he’s trying to finish the pasta when he hears a pounding at the door.

He figures Eddie left his keys or something and dries his hands on the towel on his shoulder, pulls open the door hard to get past the part where it’s been sticking since the weather turned cold, and already has a half-joke about the keys ready to leave his mouth when he realizes he’s not looking at Eddie.

‘Dad.’ A brilliant observation.

‘So this is your new palace, Steven.’ he says with distaste clear in his voice.

‘What are you doing here?’

‘Aren’t you going to invite me in?’ He only pauses for a few seconds before he pushes past him and into the apartment. Steve grinds his teeth and pushes the door closed, gives himself a second to shift tracks in his brain before he peels his forehead from the sticky paint of the door and spins around to greet him.

When he turns, John Harrington is scowling at the giant popcorn standup.

‘This is tacky.’ He mutters. He wipes a finger across the top of the tv and frowns at whatever he sees on his fingertip.

Steve rolls his eyes and crosses his arms in front of his chest but he has this clench of fear behind his ribs and he hates it, hates that his dad still has this effect on him, but it’s there all the same. ‘What can I help you with.’ It doesn't come out like a question. Steve doesn't really want an answer, he just wants him to leave.

‘What are you doing here?’ John is frowning directly at him, now, standing in the middle of the living room. Steve hates that he’s there, like he’s contaminating the space he’s finally built up around himself, like he’s ruining it somehow.

‘Well, Pops, I live here.’

‘Pops.’ he scoffs and takes a step towards Steve. Steve doesn’t think he’s going to hit him, thinks he’s probably not drunk because he probably drove here from Loch Nora, but he’s got that shitty kind of anger burning up behind his eyes that makes Steve feel like he has to actively try not to flinch or step back. He tenses his fingers into his sweater instead, hidden under his arm, and hopes he looks unbothered, hopes his poker face holds for once. He doesn’t want an argument, he just wants to be left alone.

‘Where did you get my address?’

‘Nancy Wheeler’s kid brother Michael, you know he’s working at the burger joint in town, he’s shaping up to be quite the young man-’

Steve mostly keeps the scoff in but he’s a little hurt actually, not that he has ever told anyone he’s hiding from his family or anything, he’s not really. Mike.

John looks like he's gearing up to say something annoying and loud and probably hurtful when Steve hears keys in the lock. The door gets shoved through that part where it's been sticking, and Eddie is saying 'Honey, I'm home!'. He says it literally every day but Steve feels the blood flush out of his face and his skin grow cold and his eyes widen as he looks at his dad standing there, taking in the deep and kind of rumbly voice and, he's sure, Eddie's bright eyes and smile as he shrugs out of his jacket and comes fully into the living room.

'Oh. Hello! Sorry, didn't realize we had company.' As loud and big as Eddie could be, he was usually pretty polite until you gave him a reason not to be, especially these days, but there wasn't going to be any saving face with John.

'Who the hell are you?'

Before Steve can say anything, Eddie steps forward to shake John's hand and say 'Eddie Munson, sir, at your service!' with a big smile. He looks back at Steve finally and he knows he can see that something foul is happening because Eddie visibly gulps and his smile falters as he takes a step back.

'The murderer, Eddie Munson.' John is impossibly redder than he has been, maybe ever.

Steve catches Eddie's eye, sees how far his face and posture have fallen, and gestures at John. 'My uh, dad. John Harrington.'

'Oh-ho I see.' Eddie lets all of his breath out in a whoosh. 'Okay, Johnny Boy, not so much at your service actually, but if you'd like to leave I would be so happy to walk you out.' Steve snorts a chuckle at that and looks at Eddie, whose eyes look kind of fierce and pointed in a way that Steve doesn't usually see. It's like with a full change of demeanor he's become a completely different person, bigger and maybe even a little scary.

John sputters in disbelief. Steve would bet actual real money no one has ever called him Johnny-Boy in his life. 'You can't make me leave. I'm here to talk to my son.'

'For once.' It comes from the side of Eddie's mouth, tilted cartoonishly in Steve's direction, but he knows John heard it.

Steve feels buoyed by the smartass responses from Eddie, who's now standing right at his side, shoulder pressing against his.

'I beg your pardon.' John is flustered.

'Oh he said "for once", like a reference to your whole absentee parent thing I think.'

John takes another step towards Steve, and he is close enough now that he thinks maybe he was wrong about not getting hit. He takes a huge breath that balloons out his chest and shoulders, but he doesn't get to say whatever it is he plans to before Eddie is interrupting.

'Oh absolutely not, my guy. It's time that you leave.'

Eddie calling John 'my guy' is surreal. He must think so too, because he's sputtering angrily but not really saying much.

'I'm not usually a cops kinda guy but I know a couple of ‘em who'd be happy to escort you off of private property that you don't own.' He steps behind John and bravely puts a hand on either shoulder. He's taller than John.

'You're one to talk, you'll never own property in your life-'

'And you're a complete jackass and a shit dad, we've all got our crosses to bear.' Eddie starts moving him delicately towards the door, and Steve wants to tell him to look out and that he can be like a wasp waiting to sting, but it must be just as shocking to John because he goes mostly without struggling.

He's not going without talking, though, he's saying all of the things he knew about Steven, all kinds of slurs and points about how he and his little boyfriend were lower than low and not only going to hell but hopefully soon.

When Eddie shuffles him through the doorway he says 'okay, sweetie, we will see you there, buh bye! No really, goodbye!' through the door as he closes it, flips the locks, and presses his back against it, John pounding and yelling at the door for a long few minutes. It's still less time than Steve would have imagined before he's stomping down the stairs and slamming the outside door open. When he hears the car start outside he can finally let his breath out again.

Steve feels like he's going to throw up.

But in all, it wasn't as bad as he'd built it up in his head. His dad was just some guy, it turns out, and something about facing monsters and death and loss the way he has the past few years has shrunken him into being Just Some Guy who sucks, absolutely, but is still Just Some Guy.

He slides down the wall to sit on the floor, and Eddie goes to make sure the stove is off (drains the pasta too, it sounds like) before he comes and sits right next to him, their backs to the wall and arms pressed together.

'So that sucked.' Eddie says to him, head rolled so he can look at him, probably reading his thoughts again.

Steve chuckles. 'I was just thinking it went pretty well actually.'

Eddie doesn't smile, is still looking at him. 'It's okay to say it sucked.'

'No it did, it totally sucked, but like. It's one of those things where in my head he was so scary and he's just.'

'Some asshole?'

'Some asshole. Like a bully. We deal with them enough, why would he be any different? You know?'

Eddie is quiet for a minute, thinking. 'It's different because that asshole was supposed to be your dad.'

'Hmm.' Steve is feeling that old shame, the one that says 'it is because of you, your dad would be better if you were better'.

'No, stop it. He was supposed to be your dad and he wasn't and that's on him. I know a little about that. My dad was an asshole too, remember, and it had nothing to do with me. If I said it did you'd be pissed.'

'I would.'

Eddie grabs hold of Steve's hand. It's grounding and present and nice, soft and warm like home.

'It helped that you were there. I've never seen him so out of his league.' Steve laughs, tilts his head back against the wall. 'He didn't know what to fucking do when you called him Johnny-Boy, the disrespect.'

'I told you, I don't have a lot of patience for asshole dads'. He grins at him and shakes his hand a little before letting go to stand. 'Let's get some food, okay? I bet something stupid is on TV.' He stretches his hand back out to help Steve stand.

They sit and eat and laugh at some sitcom, and when they go to bed Steve doesn't have nightmares but he does have a dream that he and Eddie and Robin are sitting behind the counter at Family Video, and there are faces pressed all against the glass like a Romero film but it's Hagan and it's Carver and it's the new bullies and it's his dad. They can't get in though.

#tranquil place #steddie #steddie fic #steddie ficlet #stranger things #stranger things fic #eddie munson #steve harrington #mine

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deceasedanddesist · 3 years

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eyes off you ( hermione granger )

this is for kelly’s 3k writing challenge!! @anchoeritic ily kells<3

pairing: hermione granger x slytherin!reader ( half blood prince )

gender neutral! reader ( if there is a mistake or i accidentally used she/her pronouns let me know and ill fix it! )

warnings: small mentions of abuse at home, other than that just fluff and awkwardness.

notes: inspired by the song ‘eyes off you’ by prettymuch, the lyrics are bolded and italicized. y/n is the biggest simp. please ignore my grammar mistakes and my horrendous sentence structure. this also gives off major jily vibes, so do what you will with that information. I kinda went off with this I'm so sorry if it starts to get boring. images are from pinterest.

word count - 1.9k

hermione granger was a stubborn girl, that was one thing you knew for sure. when the two of you first met she had been adamant on hating your guts, excessive flirting and all. it was your persistence is what really got through to her; like starting to hang out in the library because you knew she would be there, and helping her pick up her books when some asshole seventh year—adorning the same infamous emerald green you did—tripped her up in the hall ( although not before threatening the bugger in her honour first ).

at the end of the day, the little acts of service were the things that made hermione swallow her pride and finally go on a damn date with you. at first, harry and ron were in utter shock that the girl was even considering going on a date with “the enemy” as they oh-so-subtly put it. but she just told them they were being overly dramatic, and that their input into who she decides to date was simply inadequate. so was it ever the surprise that one day when you finally worked up the courage to ask her, she actually said yes.

“are you serious?” you had expressed your complete disbelief of the words you just heard come out of the curly haired girls mouth.

“yes y/n, i am dead serious.” she had echoed back to you, looking thoroughly amused.

you were astonished, the girl that you quite frankly couldn’t take your eyes off of since fifth year actually agreed to go out with you. the gryffindor girl specifically that you had set your sights on, ignoring the warnings from your friends and backlash from your family, it had all paid off. becoming more defiant with your family last summer was no easy deed, but you knew the yelling and even the hitting was better than whatever they were scheming up for you this summer. lord voldemort was getting even closer to making sure he had a solid, fucked up, but loyal fanbase and you knew you would soon be a part of it if you didn’t get your shit together. you pretty much had a foolproof plan to get the hell out of your psycho household, you just needed to wait for the right moment to act on it.

amidst all of this, you knew it was dangerous to get involved with a muggle born, and you knew you were being selfish by risking yours and hermione’s lives. but there was something about her. the way she would make you feel when your insistent nagging got her lips to turn up just a little bit, or when you did something particularly embarrassing and finally got a boisterous laugh to erupt from her mouth in the middle of potions ( snape was not happy with the two of you ).

so you knew it was dangerous, you really did. but as soon as you saw hermione in the corridor right outside of the slytherin common rooms, waiting for you like you had anxiously asked her to after dinner yesterday, you knew you were down bad. you knew you were down bad because as soon as you saw her face drop when draco malfoy approached her, your heart lurched and you basically sprinted to where she was standing. she was in the middle of telling malfoy to shut up when you slid up beside her and threw an arm around her shoulder ( because protective instincts.... duh! ), somehow managing to simultaneously tell him to “sod off” and flip him the bird while hermione sunk into your side like there's no place she’d rather be.

as the two of you ran off, you couldn't help but mutter into her ear “mione, i'm not sure.....but i think his father will be hearing about this.”

you had a feeling that the laugh she let out was one you’d be hearing in your dreams for a while.

“so, where would you like to take me y/n.” she spoke, the air of the previous laughter still heard in her voice.

“tell me anything you wanna do.”

she hummed “i don't know. how about the three broomsticks?”

while you were mulling it over, she slipped her hand in yours. your head immediately turned to meet her eyes.

there's no touch or feeling

pleasure or pain

anything like the way you're runnin' through my veins

the sudden affection had you choked up, and you had to clear your throat before continuing “um, that sounds great.”

as soon as the consent left your lips she was dragging you up the road and into the warmth of the pub, where madame rosmerta greeted the two of you at the front door. hands still intertwined, you ordered two butterbeer before wandering off into a booth. it was cozy, and you found yourself ravishing in the feeling of it all; going on hogsmeade dates, holding hands, and curling up in a booth with your drinks. it wasn’t long before you and hermione were mindlessly chatting about anything and everything, falling so deeply into conversation. only breaking out when you make her laugh, or when you go speechless at the broad smile that completely lights up her face, something that you noticed was specifically reserved for silly stories about harry and ron or her parents. you hoped that someday she would be able to talk about you with that marvellous smile on her face.

“you’re staring.” she looked adorably embarrassed at the sentiment, heat rising to her cheeks.

“I just can't take my eyes off of you.” it was a bold ( albeit true ) statement, and hermione swore to merlin you looked like you never meant any other utterance more.

“that's very generous of you, but i'm afraid i'm not that attractive.”

you looked at her in complete disbelief, “okay, okay, i’m going to wholeheartedly disregard what you just said,” taking a pause for dramatic effect “because you are the single most beautiful girl i've ever laid my eyes on, hermione granger.”

if the girl wasn’t blushing before, she was now. the way she was scrunching up her nose was the cutest, and you found her obvious inability to take a compliment quite charming. it actually boosted your own confidence, and you found yourself wanting to shower her with praises for the rest of your life just to see her reaction over and over again.

“what?” you teased, a sly smile making its way onto your face, “don't tell me potter and co deprive you of the flattery you deserve.”

the way she tilted her head and had her eyes narrowed ever so slightly told you everything you needed to know, she watched as your eyes widened in shock but shook it off because of the awkward air that was suddenly formed over the topic.

you were quite literally panicking, what if you just ruined everything? curse your slytherin ambition, you must’ve gone too far with your allusive comments. hermione hadn’t talked for about five minutes now, opting to finish her butterbeer, and the energy full of endless conversation dissipated long ago. your mug was still half full, sitting in front of you. you were just sitting there, staring at it, frantically searching your brain for something to talk about but you were fucking blanking. you were failing at pretty much the only thing you pride yourself on, and it happened to be the thing that got hermione to even go out with you in the first place.

once hermione was finished nursing her drink, you decided to speak now before she decided to make up an excuse to leave. “I'm sorry if I went too far, I do that sometimes and I made you uncomfortable, and i'm so sorry.”

then, she did the one thing you would have never even fathomed. she laughed. the girl was chortling, her head thrown back and when she finally came down from her fit she had tears running down her face.

“I'm sorry,” she said, noticing your eyebrows furrowed in concern “i've just never had someone apologize for complimenting me.”

you let out an anxious chuckle, “well you did kind of stop talking there, i figured i hit a nerve.”

“oh no! i just used to, um, fancy ron and he hasn't complimented me nearly as much in 6 years then you’ve had in an hour.” she stumbled over her words a bit as she spoke, evidently uncomfortable discussing her previous crush on weasley.

“well,” you dragged on, “i think you deserve all the flattery in the world.”

you swore to salazar slytherin himself her smile lit up the whole room, and your heart swelled when she reached over the table to grab both of your hands and link them with hers.

“how about we go for a walk, the black lake maybe?” the suggestion brought your attention to how dark it had gotten outside, you estimated that you had about an hour till the sun set. you smirked.

“I see you’re trying to snag a sunset kiss by the black lake, granger.”

your smirk turned into a full on smile as she got flustered once again, biting her lower lip.

“it's absolutely barbaric that you would allude to that, l/n.” the sarcasm was clear in her tone as you both erupted in a fit of giggles.

leaving the three broomsticks hand in hand once again, the two of you made your way down to the lake. you take off the sweater you were wearing to spread it across the grass for you and hermione to settle yourselves on. it wasn't very big, but neither of you seemed to mind as you snuggled into each other against the nights breeze. your arm making its way around her shoulder as she wrapped her arms around your waist and rested her head on your shoulder.

you two watched the sunset in silence. it wasn’t awkward like a few minutes ago, there wasn’t a need to fill it with dialogue, it was completely comfortable. hermione adjusted under your arm and turned her head to look at you, the sudden change in direction making a few curls get caught in her glossed lips. before she could even lift her arm, you were already there, brushing her hair behind her ear. your hand found its home behind her neck as you angled your head to brush your nose against hers, her lip unconsciously making its way in between her teeth again.

you took a sharp breath and spoke, “every little thing you do drives me wild.”

“are you gonna give me that kiss, or keep talk-”

you could feel her words melt away against your lips as you took action and pushed her head towards yours. her hands tightening around your waist and her soft sighs as your lips connect act as reminders that she wants this as much as you, and you are so damn thankful that she leans back in after you separate to take a breath.

and the sun sets with the two of you, hanging onto each other like you were each others lifelines, previous thoughts about your family or the stupid slytherin/gryffindor feud are long gone by now.

you decide that you can deal with all of your problems in the near future, because now you have hermione safe in your arms, and that's more than enough motivation for you to stay right where you are.

#kelly's 3k wc !#harry potter #hermione granger x reader #gender neutral reader #hogwarts #hogsmeade #this is my first like writing post so please be nice to me #I'm sorry if this is shit #i tried #plz give me constructive criticism #i need it

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michals · 3 years

Note

Hi I've just read your Luther and Vanya request and I just love it. Could I please if it's no bother to you request another one but it's them both as kids.

Firstly: Thank you! Secondly:

She tries to focus on the music but she can only play her violin so loud and it doesn’t drown out the sounds of running feet and chatter on the other side of the door. Vanya had specifically gone to the library just to get away from it, but dad’s in his lab so the others have taken free reign of the whole house. They only get thirty minutes of free time on Saturdays so there’s always a frantic nature to the games they play, all of them intent on getting as much out the half hour that they can. Today’s game is tag. Of course they didn’t ask Vanya to join, they never do.

She’s twelve and is used to listening to her siblings play from a distance, from wherever she’s sequestered herself. She’d used to watch sometimes, from the edge of their circle, hoping one day one of them will actually look at her and invite her to play. She has faint memories from years ago where she wasn’t always the odd one out, but that changed.

She sighs, she can’t keep her mind on the sheet music. If she’s going to do it she has to do it right, it’s not worth it to play badly. She packs up her violin, careful as always. When the half hour’s up the others have training but she’ll stay in her room, waiting for dinner.

The hallway’s empty when she steps out and the day dream that one of the others would be out here waiting for her, would grab her hand and pull her into the game, dissipates like always. She makes her way to the back staircase, away from the noises.

But when she turns the corner she’s slammed into by another body and thrown into a sideboard, sprawling on the floor as a bust of Copernicus rolls down the hallway. She lets out a yelp at the burst of pain in her shin.

“I’m so sorry!” a voice says above her and she looks up to find Luther staring at her with wide eyes. No wonder she fell so hard, Luther’s not just the strongest he’s also the biggest of them. She's always felt even smaller than she is next to him.

“You’re hurt,” Luther says like he’s surprised at the sight of blood starting to well up on her scraped shin.

She realizes she’d hit the edge of the sideboard, the scrape is about four inches long, the skin already turning red. Still she mumbles, “I’m fine.”

She expects Luther to turn away, run off back to the game, only he doesn’t. He takes a hesitant step forward, eyes still on her leg, brow furrowed. “You need a tourniquet.”

Vanya raises her eyebrows though the expression is lost on him because of her bangs. “Uhm, no, I don’t think I do.”

He crouches down by her and she’s thrown, she can’t remember the last time her brother was this close to her.

“Dad just taught us this, it’s basic first aid,” there’s a hint of excitement in his voice at getting to put one of dad’s lessons into practice.

She pulls her leg in closer to her, she’s wary now. She doesn’t want to be a practice dummy for him to try out dad’s teachings on. He isn’t deterred by this though, doesn’t even notice, as he starts to loosen his tie.

Vanya holds her hand out, “Luther, I don’t think- I mean, it’s not a big deal.”

He stops, tie in hand. Vanya is still waiting for him to get up, roll his eyes at her and stalk off, annoyed that she won’t let him help. But still he doesn’t, looks at her like he’s not sure what to do.

She’s never been the sole focus of Luther’s attention; she’d been dubbed ‘ordinary’ and that seemed to put her on the bottom of his list of things that mattered. He isn’t cruel but he also never cares enough to bother with her. That he’s here, making her his only concern, makes her feel important.

She unbends her knee and puts her leg out for him to see. Satisfied that he’s allowed Luther winds the tie around her calf under her knee and ties it carefully. He’s been well aware of his strength for years and has had to compensate, it’s made him surprisingly mindful. Vanya doesn’t know much about first aid but the knot is probably too loose to even do what it’s supposed to. She doesn’t say anything though.

He stands, asks, “Can you walk?”

She gets to her feet, puts some weight on the leg. The thing is is that it doesn’t actually hurt all that much, not nearly enough to not be able to walk on it. But she pretends, picks her leg back up like she can’t bear it. She shakes her head, “No.”

There’s a beat of hesitation in Luther and she worries that he knows she’s faking, but then he turns around, crouches down a bit. He’s offering to carry her. It’s her turn to pause, feeling kind of bad that she doesn’t actually need him to, but then steps forward, wraps her arms around his neck and he hefts her up, putting his hands under her knees.

He starts to walk when she remembers, “Oh! My violin!”

It’s a few feet away from where she fell, Luther walks over and without warning dips Vanya sideways. “Can you grab it?”

She tightens her one arm in surprise, then leans out as far as she can, fingers reaching for the handle. Luther has to tilt even more and she worries they’re both going to tip over and end up on the floor again. They must look so goofy, she almost laughs.

She manages to snag it and pull it up, settling it across Luther’s chest, he doesn’t seem to mind. “Mom’s probably in the kitchen,” he says as he begins down the hall.

Luther often carries the others like it’s nothing. He has no problem picking Allison up whenever she asks, Ben when he’s too tired after a training session, Klaus when he pretends he’s the injured one, dramatically flopping on the floor til Luther puts him on his back. But he’s never carried Vanya.

He’d offered so easily, like she wasn’t the outcast, the extraneous child, the sister he never thought about. She misses it in a way that doesn’t make sense to her – how can she miss something that’s never happened? But that’s the feeling in her chest as he carries her down the hall. Maybe she misses all the ‘maybes’, the ‘what if’s. And she feels special.

They’re halfway to the kitchen when Diego suddenly flies out from the parlor, stopping in his tracks at the sight of them. Vanya’s struck by the feeling that she wants to cry. Luther’s going to drop her cause of course it’s Diego and Luther doesn’t want to be embarrassed in front of him. She’s not special.

But Luther doesn’t, again doing the exact opposite of what she expects from him.

“What’s going on?” Diego asks.

Luther gives a shrug that makes Vanya shift, “She got hurt. I’m taking her to mom.”

“Oh,” is all Diego says, looking over Luther’s shoulder at her. There’s that blank expression that she always got from all of them back when she still bothered asking if she could join their games – like they simply never considered it an option, considered her an option. Even Five, even though she was closest with him, didn’t think twice about it, as if it was hardwired in them not to.

It’s then that Five bursts into the hall, jumping forward and slapping Diego firmly on the back and running off laughing.

“Five you j-j- Ugh!” Diego yells, pivoting on his heel and darting off after him, Vanya and Luther immediately forgotten.

Luther doesn’t say anything, just starts walking again. Vanya tightens her arms a tiny bit around his shoulders, thankful and weirdly possessive, like it’s her turn for Luther’s attention for once. Her heart sinks when they reach the kitchen.

“Mom?” Luther calls walking in. She looks up from the bread dough she’s kneading. “Uhm, Vanya got hurt.”

“Oh honey!” Mom coos, coming over and immediately catching sight of her leg. “Let’s get you down to the infirmary and we’ll patch that right up.” She smiles reassuringly, briefly touching Vanya’s shoulder as she goes by, leading them to the basement steps. And still Luther doesn’t put her down.

When they get to the infirmary is finally when Luther crouches down and Vanya slips off his back. She sets her violin on the floor and hops up onto the medical table. She sits and feels like she’s too heavy, that gravity’s too strong.

Mom bustles over to her, starts to wash the scrape. Luther stands behind.

“I’m sorry,” he says again, “I really didn’t mean to.”

She nods, accepting the apology easily, “I know,” she says.

He smiles, relieved, and she feels herself smile too, for a moment she feels special again – but it’s dashed at the sound of Dad’s voice.

“Number One? What are you doing down here?” He stands just beyond the doorway, his expression harsh as he takes in the scene.

“Helping,” Luther says in a snap, his tone changing to serious and sharp. “She got hurt.”

Dad looks over at Vanya and she can’t help the way her heartbeat picks up. She doesn’t know what she’s done wrong, what Luther’s done, but she’s sure it’s got to be something. Dad’ll find something.

But Dad turns, says over his shoulder, “Come along Number One.”

“Yes sir,” and Luther follows quickly behind. He doesn’t spare a look back as they go.

“Does it hurt darling?” Mom asks, patting her shin dry before she picks up the bandages. Vanya shakes her head.

When Mom’s done Vanya walks back to her room, waits for dinner.

#tua fic #the umbrella academy #umbrella academy fic #vanya hargreeves #luther hargreeves #blood mention?#sorry if i tag that wrong #this probably doesn't need to be as long as it is but at this point i have no control over that anymore #my fic

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strangest-loser · 4 years

Text

Twilight Rewrite

Fire in my Blood ~ Jasper Hale x OC ~ Book One: Chapter Three

Chapter One / Chapter Two

Being in the hospital was something Alessia enjoyed on a regular day, just not when she is stuck in the bed.

"come on Carlisle you know I'm fine, let me go home" Alessia grumbled from her bed, it was the next day and while the pain in her head was gone she was itching to get back to her own bed.

Carlisle turned to face the girl who was swinging we legs over the edge of her cot. "Your concussion seems to be clearing up nicely but I can't let you drive home alone, your father is working so I'll call someone to drive you" he said to the girl, laughing at the loud, sarcastic groan that she let out, but he knew that she wouldn't argue with him, she respected Carlisle almost as much as she respected Charlie.

On the list of people she expected to pick her up from the hospital (a list which included Alice, Rosalie, Emmet, Bella, Steve the milk man and that one pidgin she saw in a target last week) Jasper Hale was the last person Alessia expected to see waiting beside a car just outside the doors.

"you know if I didn't know any better I would assume you were stalking me Jazzy" Alessia sang as she jogged towards the curly haired blonde who shot her a killer smile. "Now why would I ever do that doll?"

That made a shiver crawl through her body, it was new, Jasper barely ever spoke to her, and he had never called her doll before. But she loved it.

"Doll? That's new, you think I'm pretty cowboy?" Alessia asked in a sweetened voice batting her eyelashes at be boy sitting in the driver's seat. His low laugh trickled into her ears as he put the car in drive and pulled out of the parking lot, " very funny Alessia."

The car ride was silent until curiosity killed it. "so I need to ask you, how come the sudden interest?" This definitely sparked the boys interest as his eyes flickered to meet hers, "you seem to hate the sight of me for two whole years but suddenly you are my knight in a shining Volvo driving me home, your mood swings are giving me whiplash what gives?"

One thing Alessia prided herself in was that she was incredibly intuitive. Before she met Carlisle when she was 15 she had wanted to work at the FBI for the Behavioural Analysis Unit. She loved helping people and she wanted to follow her dad's footsteps and stop the bad guys. She watched criminal minds religiously since the day it first aired and apart from her undeniable crush on the resident genius Dr Spencer Reid she gained a serious respect for the people who protect her country, but after meeting Carlisle and witnessing him save people from the brink of death she decided that she wanted to do the same. So her dreams of law enforcement were put on hold and it was decided that she would become a surgeon. She still watched criminal minds and still had a deep rooted love for Spencer Reid though.

Her sharp intuition allowed for her to get a read on most people, but never Jasper.

He wore a straight face before he answered her. "I know we haven't been the best of friends and the fact is I've been rude to you and I'm sorry." Alessia swept her brown hair out of her eyes to look at his side profile with a small smile on her lips. "Well that's fine but I just thought that... That I did something wrong you know, did I like offend you or something?" She asked staring at him with a sweet grin, gauging for some sort of reaction. She was met with him shaking his head with his own smile. "No, no sugar you didn't do nothin' wrong, I can't explain it right now but I promise it wasn't you."

Content with his answer Alessia giggled to herself while she settled back into the passenger seat looking out the front window at the road that ran through the woodland of Forks, Washington.

Alessia felt bad turning down the girls offer to go buy prom dresses, especially after already turning down going to La Push but she knew that spending time with her father was important, she was just glad that Angela and Jessica took Bella with them to Port Angeles, especially at night it was a shady place and Alessia felt better knowing the three were together. Throwing her hair into a bun she sat on the couch next to her father and put on South Park. About five minutes into her mindless cartoon time the channel flipped from animation to football as her father flopped onto the couch beside her.

"Jesus! I didn't even hear you come in, way to scare me" Alessia said thumping her father on the shoulder laughing. Their relationship was one of the closest people had ever seen because for a long time they were all each other had. Charlie was protective but fair, he never gave anyone a reason not to like him, except maybe Renée. Charlie Swan was a good father, a good cop and a good man, and he raised Alessia alone with the help of their small community and she grew up to be an amazing woman.

Their night fell into one of laughter and yelling at the TV until the front door opened and Bella came in followed by Edward. Which was weird for many reasons but Bella didn't give her much time to think about it before dragging her up the stairs and into the small bedroom at the front of the house.

"I need to ask you something, did Jacob ever tell you about their tribes stories?" Bella asked while shutting her door and walking to her desk, opening her bag she pulled out a blue book with a native symbol on the cover.

"yeah, yeah the one about the wolves right?" Alessia said while looking over the book, flicking through the pages, skimming the words before looking back at her sister who was pulling web pages up on her laptop. "Did he ever mention 'the cold ones' before?"

That was something that shook her to her core for a reason she didn't understand. when Bella received no answer from her older sister she looked over to see her staring out the window, that feeling was back again, someone was out there.

"Stay here Bella I'll be right back", Alessia said walking across the hall to her open bedroom, she grabbed a torch and her shoes, slipping them on before walking down the stairs. Her father wasn't in the living room so Alessia just grabbed his police jacket off the kitchen chair and opened the side door to let herself outside.

It was quiet outside, still, but that feeling was still creeping up her spine so Alessia set off into the woods. The black dress she was wearing occasionally snagged of a low twig and she could feel them scraping up her bare legs as she walked deeper in. Her instincts carried her further and further away from her house until the moonlight split the tree canopy to the point where she didn't need the torch anymore to see. Looking around at the clearing she found herself reaching into the jacket pocket letting her fingers hit her father's pistol, Alessia was taught to shoot a gun last year after she was attacked by a pack of wolves in these very woods, and while Alessia didn't want or own a gun of her own she learned anyway to ease her father's nerves, and depending on what was out here she might be glad she learned.

A twig snap caused her to swivel on her feet and tighten her hold on the gun in her pocket. Something was out here. Alessia slowly pulled the gun out to rest by her side as another snap came from a different direction. A third snap caused her to slowly and silently click the safety off and slowly raise the gun to her front.

"Alright doll I yield, I yield, don't shoot!"

"JASPER ARE YOU PSYCHOTIC I ALMOST SHOT YOU!"

The blonde let his arms drop out of his surrender as the brunette put the gun away. Alessia didn't even think before beginning to berate him over being an idiot.

"What the hell were you thinking, I could have killed you and then I would get charged for murder and I would never become a doctor like I want and it'll be all your fault. And what are you even doing out here in my woods are you stalking me or something it's like 10 pm and freezing cold. I'm out here in a dress for god's sa-"

Her rambling was stopped by a pair of arms wrapping around her waist and a hand covering her mouth. "Nah sugar you wouldn't kill me, you would miss me too much."

Alessia laughed at that playfully fighting out of his arms "oh yeah try me Hale cause my father's chief of police I could make it look like an accident." Her mind froze as their hands met... His was ice cold.

"Jesus Christ did you come out here without a jacket you are freezing" Alessia said shrugging her jacket off and putting it on the man in front of her but he wasn't paying any attention to her anymore, instead he stood ramrod straight looking into a section of the woods right in front of them. His face was alert and his eyes were deadly... Something was wrong.

Her suspicions were answered with a low, rumbling growl. This sound multiplied by three and soon four sets of unblinking eyes were staring at them from the trees. Alessia tensed as the scene before her was identical to the one she had found herself in a year ago and she froze up as her worst fear edged its way towards the two teenagers. Terror ran like a hot brand through her spine and out through her nerve endings and her stomach dropped like that time on the rollercoasters at Disney World. She was terrified.

Black fur began to make its way towards them slowly, like stalking prey. It's eyes were never on Jasper like the other three wolves that surrounded them but they were absolutely fixated on Alessia, unblinking and deadly set, like she was his prey. She had never felt fear like this before, not even last time when she faced this threat alone. It was as if she could feel him saying 'you will die at my hands tonight'. These weren't just hungry wolves, they were here for her.

Jasper seemed to notice the same thing because his arms tightened around the shaking girl in front of him "Do you trust me darlin?" Came his southern drawl and the sound of his voice let her shoulders settle and relax enough to whisper a tiny "yes."

Alessia didn't remember much if what happened in the moments that followed but she heard talking from Jasper and growling from that four legged demon and before too long the shadows retreated back into the trees and Jasper has picked her up into his arms and they are hiking further up into the cliff side until a second clearing was reached and Jasper set her down into a patch of soft grass and stood in front of her until she spoke to him softly. "Why did you talk to those wolves, how did you get them to leave and why did the big one want to kill me?"

All straight forward questions that held no straight forward answers. Alessia looked Jasper dead in the eyes and asked him more, "what are you doing out here?, Why are you always freezing cold? Why have you been watching me for the past few days?, And how the hell did me and Bella survive that crash?" Her gaze steeled as she finished saying her piece.

"And don't you dare lie to me!"

Alessia let herself fall back into bed after Jasper carried her home, the shock of what happened coupled with everything Jasper told her caused her legs to give out. Her head swam with how the hell any of what she just heard makes any sense. She suddenly remembered the conversation with Bella and shakily moved from her own room into her sister's. The room was dark and Bella was asleep but the window was weirdly open. Alessia grabbed the laptop and book before shutting the window and locking it.

Her own room was lit softly as she opened the laptop and kept scrolling through the pages that were open on the stories of the families that lived on the reservation. Countless words repeating.

Wolf.

Tribe.

Quileute.

Leader.

C O L D O N E.

Alessia slammed the laptop closed and let out a confused groan. She opened her window wide open and paced around the room until she heard a shifting on her window seat, turning to face the figure now sitting still before her she let out a sigh and centred herself. "Okay, you have one chance to explain your story to me."

Jasper stood and walked towards her, grabbing her hand and sitting her on the bed gently before looking at her.

"My family and I are what we call vegetarians, we drink animal blood instead of human, we don't hurt people and we live peacefully among humans and we move around every couple of years for protection." He began looking her in the eye trying to catch a reaction to anything he was saying.

Alessia sat in a state that most would call catatonic until she blinked twice and slowly smiled.

"I want to meet you all, I need to hear this from everyone."

TAGLIST

@treestarrrrrrrr

@whattheheckisevengoingon

@fangirl1029

@iliveforthefandom04

@frozenhuntress67

@jessabellaswan

@mikariell95

#twilight x reader #jasper hale x reader #alice cullen #rosalie hale #rosalie twilight #edward cullen #jasper hale #x oc #original character #twilight rewrite #twilight #fire in my blood #Alessia Swan OC

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theladylovingcrow · 4 years

Text

New Places, Friendly Faces (Sanny) Pt 1

Author (As known on Various sites): Lady Lover- Rockfic, Luluthechoosingcrow - AO3, theladylovingcrow - Deviantart and Wattpad, @sammy_bluebells - Instagram, @imacrowcawcaw - main Tumblr, @theladylovingcrow - writing/art Tumblr, @insannywestan - Sanny shipping Tumblr

Fandom: Greta Van Fleet

Pairing: Sam Kiszka/Danny Wagner (Sanny), lil bit of Danny/Ronnie but he's quickly swept away with Sam

Length: about 2k

Warnings/Tags: Alternate Universe, Diner AU, No band AU, fluff, some angst, awkwardness, first dates, you know the ones where person A's date is failing and person B comes and sits with them, sorry i forgot what its called but that, hand holding, flirting, Sanny

Summary: Danny was nervous; he had been building up the courage for *weeks* to arrange a date, and now.... He wasn't quite sure what to think of the situation he found himself in. The night certainly wasn't going as he had expected it to - and his emotions had never ridden a roller coaster this fast. Hell, the beautiful angel holding his hand wasn't even the one he had arranged to meet 2 hours ago.

Author's Notes: I don't know what inspired me to do this but I'm very very happy with how it's turning out (and I've never written a longer-ish multi chapter story before, so this is interesting!) I would hate for Danny to not know the Kiszkas growing up, but hey I think I made their first meeting pretty damn cute!

Also, just FYI this is set roughly in late January of whatever year, so the twins are supposed to be 20, Ronnie is 18 I think, Danny just turned 18, and Sam is 17 (I think I did all the math right but idk) HOWEVER it wasn't until I finished that I realized I absolutely did not make their appearances congruent with what they would have looked like then.... Sam and Danny look like 2018 ish but the twins also look like their high school selves :( Idk sorry

Also, because Sam is 17, this will not be posted on Rockfic and will be marked as underage, though I'm not planning for it to get dirty

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Danny had been taping his foot for the past fifteen minutes.

He usually didn't do that, it wasn't his nervous tick of non-choice, but Michelle hadn't showed up yet, and it was nearing eight.

Checking his watch, Danny watched the hand tick to 7:58 and then looked up, peering around the restaurant he was in.

Diner, he corrected himself. It was a homey, 1960's American diner, a little more exposed timbers and bear carvings than checkered tiles and jukeboxes, but that's what you got in Michigan. The building was low and sturdy, a log structure with a river rock chimney over the grills in back. Every single wall was decorated with various signed pictures of celebrities that had passed through, local newspaper articles about Gerald and Fern's Homestyle Grill, old handsaws, vintage pop signs, and a million other trinkets and posters chosen by the owners (Gerald and Fern, he assumed, though they'd probably passed on considering how old the place looked to be).

It was a nice restaurant, Danny thought; the atmosphere was welcoming and calm despite the occasional clamor from the kitchen, and the decor was very interesting to look at. Plus, the waitress that had directed him to a window booth and brought him some water was just gorgeous.

'Don't think that! You're on a date, idiot' Danny scolded himself, shaking his head. Well, he was technically waiting for the date to start, seeing as she hadn't showed up yet. But, he still shouldn't be admiring another girl like that when his wasn't there - that would just make him an asshole.

But maybe Michelle was a little bit of an asshole because she said she'd meet him at 7 o'clock and it was now 8:06- 'Stop. It.' Danny scolded himself again, mentally smacking himself upside the head.

'Didn't your mother ever tell you to assume the best of people?' One voice asked.

'Of course!' Another Danny answered.

'Well, then, she probably got stuck in traffic, or her dog threw up in her car, or she hit a bad pothole, or her mom made her go to the store, or-'

'Okay, I get it! She probably doesn't mean to be so late,' Danny conceded, concluding the conversation he was having with himself. Maybe the waitress was right and he had been sitting there by himself for a little too long.

Of course, being the nice girl she was, the waitress - Ronnie her name was Ronnie - had stopped by periodically whenever she had a minute to chat with him or finally bring him some coffee after he had given in to the craving.

Danny looked down at the small bouquet wilting on the table and sighed. Looked like this date was a bust, just like the few others he'd attempted, and he'd actually been very excited to see her. In fact, it was Michelle who had suggested this Gerald's Grill when he had shyly asked her out in Biology.

He had finally made up his mind to just stop wasting Ronnie's time and go home when a group of boys came trouping in, wet from the snow but in exuberant spirits and, apparently, "In great need of some refreshment, Ronnie dear!"

That made him want to pack up and get out even faster because, honestly, he didn't need any more knowing looks or judgement right now, but the last boy to walk in made him freeze with his coat halfway on.

The kid looked about Danny's age, roughly the same height but a whole lot skinnier. He had on skin tight jeans, scuffed hiking boots, and a red woolen coat. When he turned to talk to Ronnie, Danny could see the Tom Petty hoodie beneath the jacket and some silver necklaces.

'Nice,' he thought, 'seems like a cool guy: good taste in music and fashion.'

Also, 'Fucking gorgeous'.

What made him pause his leaving, though, wasnt the guy's body but his face - his sculpted brows, insanely high cheekbones, pink lips, and long lashes; all framed by the healthiest looking head of hair Danny had ever seen, second only to his own, or possibly one of the guy's he had come in with (the one who yelled for Ronnie) that had rather impressive, long curls styled to look like 70's mutton chops. There was something naggingly familiar about his features, but Danny couldn't place it.

Ronnie rolled her eyes and pointed the group of boys to a large table in the Eastern corner of the diner.

She snagged some menus and followed behind them, though another guy, this one also with long hair (he was having some competition here) grown out Justin Beiber style (okay, maybe not) said; "We don't need those, Ronnie, I'm pretty sure Sammy here has the whole menu memorized by now. Right, Sam-a-lam-a?"

The intruiging boy nodded, starting to recite off what sounded like a very accurate, detailed account of the diner's menu, prices and everything. Danny was surprised at the slight raspy, smokers quality of his voice, but it was pleasant, in a way.

After the fourth item or so, Ronnie stopped "Sammy" with a swat to the shoulder, shaking her heading and muttering "stupid genius" under her breath. He grinned up at her, wiggling his eyebrows and asking for a round of Vernors, pretty please, Ronnie-kins.

Holy shit, they were siblings! That's what had been buzzing at the back of his head for the past couple minutes; those mouths and cheekbones, seductive eyes, that lovely hair. The guy was Ronnie's brother (and no wonder he was so beautiful then).

Squinting, Danny watched the party in the corner. Two of the other guys, 70's hair and Justin Beiber (though he felt bad calling him that since he seemed cool and, hey, he'd had the same 'do when trying to grow his out) were laughing at something Ronnie said, leaning on each other and behaving the exact same way, down to their blinks.

Twins! Danny could tell because he had two cousins, also twins, that acted exactly like that. Wait, though.... they looked awfully similar to-

More siblings?! Jesus, how many kids did this family have? He hoped the four were all, for the sake of their parents.

He guessed that the twins were a little older, so either "Sammy" or Ronnie had to be the youngest, though they all looked awfully similar in age.

'Seriously, how do their parents handle that?' Especially with the attractive, flirty twins, beautiful daughter, and the super smart supermodel - it had to be several handfuls raising a house like that. Danny suddenly felt a bit more sympathy for his parents, even with just having to deal with him and his little sister.

Ronnie sashayed away, calling over her shoulder for the boys to keep it down. They all hooted and hollered in response, seeing as Danny was the only other patron to bother at the moment.

Danny slowly sat back down, curious as to what interesting conversations he would hear from the group. The twin with curly hair was currently talking to a larger guy on the other side of the table about the "carefully curated sensuality" of Led Zeppelin's Prescence, which alone made him want to stay.

Not to mention, he could continue to observe the hot guy that was immediately fascinating him like few people did. Danny wasn't deluded enough to think it was love at first sight - though it was definitely a fair amount of lust - but there was something about the other boy that made him want to track his every move down to the blinking of his eyes.

"Woah there, creepy much? Chill out, he probably doesn't even like guys anyways," Danny muttered to himself, hoping that his staring wasn't obvious enough to make "Sammy" aware of it. He loved to people watch - and admire, but hated the uncomfortable confrontation of acknowledging that he had been doing so.

Supermodel boy twisted in his chair, looking at one of the many things on the wall - though it made Danny's breath catch because, could he tell? - when he caught Danny's eye. He smiled at Danny, making him smile a little tightly and nod in return.

At that moment, Ronnie came out of the back with a platter of glass pop bottles and a notebook tucked into her apron pocket, using her hip to close the swinging half-door to the area behind the counter. She smiled at Danny as he passed, murmuring a soft "I'll be right back with you," before continuing on to her brothers' table.

Gorgeous boy laughed - a surprisingly obnoxious, though maybe endearing, braying one - and reached out a fine boned hand, plucking a bottle from the tray before she could set it down. He took a long swallow, throat visibly working and eyes half closed, head tipped back. Danny quickly averted his own eyes unless he started drooling onto the tabletop.

Ronnie came over to him after a minute, refilling his coffee and insisting that she get him a piece of pie, on the house. He didn't have the heart to tell her no, not after more than an hour of sitting there pitifully, and especially not now that he knew her gorgeous brothers (or at least one of them, the prettiest, too) knew he was there. It would be incredibly embarrassing for them to know that he was stood up and alone; Danny wanted to give off a good impression, for some reason.

Ronnie walked away again, hips swaying, and disappeared into the back. "Sammy" laughed at the table in the corner and Danny's eyes shot to him, watching how he played with his straw between those two pillowy lips.

He started sweating a little bit, considering who he thought was more attractive (not like either of them would be interested in him, but). Ronnie was curvy and kind and beautiful, but Sam was lean and charismatic and had the most lovely facial structure Danny had ever seen.

'Ugh, bisexual problems', Danny thought. No one else would have know what he was talking about if they were there, though, since he had never mentioned it to his parents nor his few friends.

He wondered, idly - because he really was out of their league and it would never, ever happen - what his family would think if he brought either of them home. Ronnie would be sure to elicit absolute delight from his mother after her admonishment for getting a girlfriend in the first place (despite the fact that he was allowed to do what he wanted now that he was 18, Danny's mom still saw him as her little boy). Ronnie's brother, he wasn't sure; it's not like they were homophobic, but Danny was certain that him bringing home a guy out of nowhere would be quite the shock.

They'd warm up to Sam (he didn't want to call him "Sammy"; it felt too familiar to he polite, though he did like that), he was sure. His parents would be impressed by his intelligence and be charmed by his jokes, and tell Danny that they were glad he had found such a nice boyfriend.

Danny drifted off into a daydream of what it would be like to date Sam, to take him to family holiday meals and go out hiking with him and cuddle up on a late winter afternoon like this one. He rested his head on his hand, letting his eyes go unfocused as he envisioned the imaginary world in which he had an 11/10 boyfriend.

"Hey, I've got your pie. Mind if I sit and eat mine with you?"

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

@satans-helper @okietrish @lazingonsunday @bigthighsandstupidguys @karrotkate @oblvions @lantern-inthenight @mountainofthefleet seriously PLEASE tell me if anyone else wants to be tagged in Sanny and I'll add it to my list because I guessed these peeps last time and got it right but I can't remember if there's anyone else

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hiilikedragons · 6 years

Note

I'm soo happy you're back!! I've missed the sacrifice au so much and still think about it sometimes and suddenly I've read the whole thing in a day again. It was one of the first proper long fanfics I read years ago and one of my favs ever!

Thank you so much anon!

“Do you plan on showing mercy any time soon?”

There’s a little amusement in Valka’s voice, a teasing lilt, but Astrid wonders if there’s a more sincere sentiment underlying it.

They’re cradled in the stone windows of their living quarters, sharing a bowl of berries as they watch the aviary. Below them, unaware of his audience, Hiccup has a new dragon prosthesis in his hand, and he’s chasing a Changewing with a torn wing back and forth. Curled up on a rock, Toothless looks on with barely stifled smugness, his tail languorously flicking side to side.

“Giving him hope wouldn’t be mercy.” Astrid replies with a taste of bitterness. “I don’t do anything just because I like watching him squirm.” Though there was a little satisfaction in it. “I do it because I hate him. I don’t want him near me.”

She never would have said such a thing so bluntly to Valka before. When she first came to the sanctuary, she tiptoed around badmouthing Hiccup, worried that it would make Valka angry. After these several weeks, though, they’ve become so close– it’s almost like talking with her own mother.

Almost. Not quite.

“You hated him once before,” the older woman mentions, her tone casual. “How did you overcome it the last time?”

It’s a fair question. Astrid ponders it as she rolls a berry across her tongue. Was it the day he took her to Bulg for the first time, giving her a taste of freedom? Was it learning about his past from his mother? It’s hard to say when she started enjoying his presence instead of despising it.

“Maybe it was just a trick of the mind.” She shrugs, tilting her head a little. “I was a prisoner. I had nobody else.”

“It could be. It’s a possibility.” That’s why she likes Valka so much. She doesn’t judge, and she doesn’t let her feelings blind her to reason. “The best way to find out would be to give him a chance now that you’re free.”

Astrid wrinkles her nose, flicking her gaze to Valka’s face to show her displeasure before glancing back at the bowl. Her fingers flick and dig for the largest, most perfect looking berry. “You want me to forgive him.”

With a heavy exhale, Valka makes a vague gesture with her hand in Hiccup’s direction. “I’m biased. Mothers aren’t very good at seeing the worst in their children.”

Astrid doesn’t reply, instead throwing fruit at her.

The other woman’s laugh is hearty and warm. “I mean it. If you look at him long and hard, you might be able to figure out why exactly you fell for him in the first place. Or–” She shrugs. “You find that it was only your nearness to each other that pushed you two together. Either way, you won’t know until you try talking.”

Astrid feels her eyes roll upwards– not in disrespect, but unwillingness. She unfolds herself from the crook of the stone window and slides down the wall so she can stretch her legs out in front of her. Her jaw tightens as she knots her fingers in the fabric of her tunic, as if she can hold the little life inside just as tight. She glares ahead.

“I’m just… so…” Shaking her head, Astrid huffs like a perturbed dragon. “I’m so angry.”

“Are you angry?” Valka takes advantage of the new space in the window, propping her feet up where Astrid had been sitting. “Or are you hurt?”

“Both? Mostly angry.” The stone behind her feels cold through her clothes and even seeps through her braid. “It’s like there’s this hot coal in my chest, always burning. Always stinging. When he leaves me alone, it’s just kind of sizzling, but when I see him–” Her words lose traction, and she struggles for the right thing to say. “I want to rip it out.”

They sit in quiet for a moment. Hiccup’s voice just barely floats upwards from outside.

After a few minutes of thoughtful silence, Valka crawls out of the window and places the bowl by Astrid. She grabs her staff and walks towards the exit to the aviary. Over her shoulder, she cheerfully says, “All coals burn up eventually.”

It’s well after midnight when Valka rouses Hiccup from his sleep, squeezing his shoulder with a warm hand. He blinks blearly into the dark, startling a little when he makes out the frightful mask of his mother’s helmet.

“I told you not to do that,” he mumbles, pushing up on an elbow and rubbing his eyes with the heel of his hand. “You know that thing is creepy.”

She makes a noise of amusement, more of a purr than a laugh. An evolution after living with the dragons for so long. “Sorry, dear.” Then her tone drops, more serious. “I couldn’t sleep, so I went for a flight. There’s a ship of trackers skirting the ice.”

Toothless must pick up on the sound of warning in Valka’s voice, because he rustles in the corner and yawns, sitting up.

“What’s brought them so close?” Hiccup pats his furs for his flask out of habit before remembering he doesn’t have it anymore.

“Not sure.” His mother glances over her shoulder, as if she’s being watched. “It might be our comings and goings. I’m going to try and draw them away.”

“You’re leaving now?”

She straightens and bobs her head in a nod. “There’s no time to waste. If word of our location spreads, we could be swarmed with trappers in a day’s time.”

He begins to pull his furs aside. “Shouldn’t I go with you?”

Her hand on his shoulder stops him. “No. I need you here to protect the sanctuary if it turns out to be a distraction. If they slip by me or if another ship arrives, I need someone who can organize the dragons and defend us.”

The idea of sleep instantly evaporates. He reaches a hand for Toothless, and he’s met with a scaly nudge. “Do you think I need to get Astrid out of here?”

Valka’s eerie mask tilts back and forth in a display of uncertainty. “I think it’s better if she stays. The ships are still a few days out by boat. No sense in moving her over an unlikely possibility, and if something does happen, she’ll probably be more help to you here.”

He doesn’t entirely agree. The idea of Trappers and Astrid in the same place makes his skin prickle with uneasiness. But he trusts that Valka doesn’t think the ships are an urgent threat. Even more nerve wracking than the idea of nearby ships is the thought of the two of them being alone in a frosty silence without his mother as a buffer between them.

“I’ll hold everything down here,” he assures her. “I’ll send a dragon if we spot anything.”

Once she’s gone, the place feels too quiet and open. Hiccup figures he’ll get a couple more hours of rest before getting up– he might need it in case of an emergency– but he’s wide awake. Instead of staring at the ceiling and sighing, he decides to take Toothless for a late-night flight. It’ll let him keep an eye on the horizon and stretch his dragon’s wings before the rest of the world stirs.

No ships, so far as the eye can see. It allays his fears a little to see nothing but black ocean and blue ice for miles. The ship Valka saw must be rather far out indeed. That makes him feel slightly better about the threat of the sanctuary being found by trappers.

He enjoys his time with Toothless until the sky begins to lighten. Thor knows his Night Fury enjoys it just as much as he does, having been making less regular trips across the archipelago. The cold air that slips through his flight suit is exhilarating, and it helps him think. Everything feels a little bit clearer near the clouds.

There are a few dragons from the sanctuary that are starting to rise and skim the water’s surface for food. They play and dance in the ocean spray, giving Hiccup an idea. He directs Toothless to snag a few fish for themselves and heads for home just as morning light begins to sparkle off the sanctuary spires.

He’s never been a great cook, but fish is one thing he can do with no problem. Catch it, throw it over a fire, make sure it doesn’t fall into the flames. He remembers some of the harder nights with Toothless– back before they found a place to settle– where he was so hungry he would hardly wait for the fish to cook through before tearing into it. These days, since he has the luxury of time, he sometimes tends to let it burn.

That’s probably the smell that brings a bleary-eyed Astrid inside. At first her expression is just sleepy and confused, probably expecting to find Valka at the fire, but she pulls up short when she finds him instead.

“Good morning!” He blurts before she can have a chance to run away. He’s trying to plate a trout that’s falling to pieces, struggling to keep it in one piece. It’s a good thing that blacksmithing has stripped him of most feeling in his fingertips, because he’s sure they’d be blistered by the heat. “Toothless– show the good lady to her seat.”

As rehearsed, the Night Fury stalks behind her and uses his nose to nudge her towards a seat. Astrid makes a noise of indignation but doesn’t object. She watches Hiccup with a sharp gaze, which is only slightly softened by a tinge of curiosity. Her arms stay crossed defensively in front of her.

“Breakfast, to start the day.” He sets the fish on the stone next to her, already sure she wouldn’t take it if he handed it over. His strategy is to keep her distracted with conversation until she slips up and speaks to him. “Fresh pike, caught just hours ago by your favorite offspring of lightning and death. A cup of tea, ready to brew. Mom’s going to be out for a few days, but if you need anything, I can get it for you.”

Without replying, Astrid picks up the plate and sniffs it cautiously. The expression her face pulls isn’t promising. His hands are pouring hot water into a cup of tea leaves, but his attention is fully engrossed by her every movement.

It must be at least slightly tempting, because she picks out a less scorched piece of fish and brings it to her lips. He’s pleased when she doesn’t immediately spit out her first couple of nibbles, but before he can get too excited, her brow suddenly furrows. She sets down the plate with a little force and uses the back of her hand to wipe her mouth.

Instead of waiting for disappointment to set in, he inhales deeply and presses on.

“Fiske’s wife actually showed me this tea. You remember Fiske? His wife is kind of terrifying.” When he steps close to hand her the cup, he can tell that she’s breathing a little unsteadily. Valka tells him to check on her whenever she ends up sick to her stomach, but he’s always pushed away– verbally and physically– whenever he tries.

She takes the cup from his hand, eyeing it warily. This time he stands next to her and watches as she takes a tiny sip. Surprisingly, a minute amount of tension seems to melt from her stiff frame, and she adjusts her hands around the tea to hold it tightly. Wordless, she stares into the fire and slowly nurses the cup.

His relief is potent. He darts back to his own breakfast and sits on the stone bench next to hers.

Toothless curls at her feet and sits his head in her lap for scratchies, which he is granted albeity distractedly. If Astrid notices him using his long forked tongue to try and reach chunks of the fish on her plate, she doesn’t say anything. There’s a weariness to her features that he can’t help but notice out of the corner of his eye.

They sit in silence for a long time, which is more progress than he’s made with her in the weeks since he returned. He’s scared to say something to pierce the bubble of civility she’s decided to wrap them in, worried that the moment he tries to appeal to her that the ice and thorns will reappear.

Eventually, after Toothless has cleaned off her mostly untouched plate, she tilts the cup in her hands back and forth. “What is this?”

It’s pathetic how quickly he jumps at the question. “Raspberry leaf, alfalfa, and dried ginger.”

Astrid nods, handing the cup back to him. Hiccup’s not sure if that means she’s done or she wants more, but he stands and begins preparing a second.

“I’ve been wondering something,” she begins, resting her elbows on her knees and lacing her fingers together. “If you’d never left Berk, do you think we would’ve been friends?”

The thought causes his hands to slow momentarily, but then he’s able to shake it off. “I hope so.”

The first streak of annoyance crosses her features, informing him that his reply wasn’t what she wanted to hear. “I mean, you were spoiled and obnoxious, but I never disliked you. But would I have liked you? Not just like I liked Snot, but could we have wanted each other there the way we did on our island?”

Something inside his chest swells and overflows at the little word our. Such a tiny, inconsequential word, but it’s the first ray of hope he’s felt in a while. Stepping over Toothless, he presses the cup into her accepting hands and sits with his back to the bench, just a little bit closer to her.

“I used to think about it. Pretend that instead of running from Berk, Toothless and I saved it. And everybody learned to trust dragons, and my dad was proud of me, and you fell madly in love with me. Some nights, I would dream it so vividly– it felt almost real.”

Astrid exhales a short laugh into her tea. “I dreamed that I found the nest and killed them all. There was a feast in my honor, with wine and roast and honey cakes.” Her tone is wry. “There were some winters where the shortages were so bad, I’d wake up chewing on my quilt.”

He breathes his own humorless chuckle. She shakes her head and smooths a hand over her hair.

“I just wonder,” she whispers, eyes closed. “Did our attraction to each other play tricks on us? Were we using each other to pretend we aren’t both irreparably damaged? Was there anything that was real between us?”

Hiccup jerks back, surprised by the sharp pain of her questions. He shouldn’t be surprised. He asked himself those same things over and over after taking her to meet his mother for the first time. They were easy questions to ask before he knew what it felt like to have lost her– possibly forever. Now, it’s almost shocking how wrong they seem.

For a moment, neither of them speak. They watch the fire flickering lowly, with the sound of dragons waking and chattering in the distance.

Hiccup risks shifting to look directly at her. If he reached out his hand, he could just barely touch her. He wants to.

“I didn’t leave because I didn’t want you,” he says slowly and quietly.

Her laced fingers immediately clench. “Don’t.”

“I left because I wanted you more than I thought made sense. Enough to scare me.”

“Hiccup, stop.” Her sigh sounds frustrated, and she sits up, holding out a hand as if she can physically block his words from reaching her.

But he can’t. This is the closest he’s gotten to her in weeks, the most she’s let him speak since he arrived. He feels like he has to blurt it out before the door shuts again and they’re back to frosty silence.

“I’ve spent a long time trying to outrun my past. Things I’ve done, things I’ve seen. I wanted to keep it all in the tailwinds where it can’t hurt me. But you– you, Astrid–” He tries to take her hand, but she pulls away. His own hands curl and flex with nervous energy. “You slammed into me. Made me actually want to be still for a while. And then before I knew it, you weren’t something behind me, you were the only thing in front of me.”

“I can’t do this!” She stands abruptly, almost breaking her cup as she sets it down. Backing away, she stabs a finger at him and glares with watery eyes. “You can’t do this, Hiccup!”

“Please, Astrid, just let me explain!” He’s on his feet too, and Toothless whines in sudden confusion. “I was afraid of slowing down, of stopping, of wanting something I wasn’t guaranteed to keep.”

“I gave you everything! What more of a guarantee did you need?”

A flicker of ire ignites under his skin. “Can you really tell me you would have been happy with that life forever? Forsaking your family, your village, hidden away and always waiting on a cliff for me to come back in one piece? Hiding our identities and never really settling in one place? Can you tell me you wouldn’t have wanted out eventually?”

“I don’t know!”

“And can you swear that I could always protect you from my enemies? I have a lot of them. Can you promise you would be safe? Your child would be safe?” Even the thought reminds him of the trappers in the far distance, creeping closer and closer to their sanctuary. It stirs a panic in him that he can’t stifle.

“I don’t know!” Her voice breaks. She paces like a dragon in a cage, eyes of crystal blazing. “I could forgive you being afraid, because I was terrified the day you left. But how can I trust you, Hiccup? You take our future in your hands and make decisions without stopping to consider how I feel!”

“What do you even mean? I’ve spent weeks considering your feelings, trying to repent, but you cut me off at every turn.”

“Because I want you to know what it’s like!” Tears finally spill onto her cheeks. Without even pausing to wipe them away, she takes a few steps towards him. “To believe that you could love someone if they would just let you!”

He grabs her by the elbows. “Then just let me!”

“I told you, I can’t!” Astrid breaks away, shoulders rising and falling in near hysterics. He wants to chase her as she turns away and crosses the room, but there’s something keeping his boots welded to the floor. For several minutes, they both stand in silence. Catching their breaths and sorting through all the words floating between them.

Then she faces him again. The tears are gone. The door of opportunity has been closed. He can see it in her face, the cold detachment and prickly guardedness. It’s as if a wrought iron door is clattering as it rushes to shut between them.

“Give me the dishes,” she says, “I’ll wash them.”

He wonders if she notices the way she holds her hand close to her body, as if it’s itching to cover her abdomen. She’s worn nothing but baggy clothes while she’s been here, and they hang on her frame. It makes her look even skinnier than before she came, and it leaves him forever wondering about their baby. Is she showing at all? Is she punishing him by hiding? His anxiety could choke him with the way it tightens his throat.

“I’ll do them.” He can hear the defeat in his own voice. “I know how to get the Night Fury spit off anyways.”

Astrid doesn’t argue and leaves without another word.

Boom. The wrought iron door slams down.

Hiccup wonders about his dad a lot. What he’s up to. Where he goes. What he would do or say if he knew it was his son beneath the Dragon Rider’s mask. And damn it– he misses him. Even though Stoick the Vast has become famous for his hatred of dragons, Hiccup still misses him.

It takes everything in him to avoid his father’s house, the Great Hall, anywhere he might see his dad’s giant figure and be tempted to watch for a while. And really, he should wait until it’s darker, until the rest of the island has gone to sleep. The sky is only a purplish navy. But he has time on the mind. He has to be in and out quickly, to get back to the sanctuary before Astrid starts to think he’s abandoned her again. He’ll be in for a world of hurt if she notices he’s gone.

Unsurprisingly, the Hoffersons’ door is unlocked. He’s already been watching the village since before sunset– he knows Calder is down by the pier helping tie up the last few fishing boats to come in. Astrid’s mother entered the house several minutes ago, and she hasn’t shown signs of leaving. Now is the best time to move.

He deliberately makes noise when crawling through Astrid’s bedroom window. It’s much safer than going through the front door or wandering downstairs where Calder could walk in at any moment. And it works. After a moment of pacing heavily across the bedroom floor, he hears rapid steps on the stairs. The door bursts open.

Mrs. Hofferson looks slightly disappointed to see him, but she doesn’t have a weapon this time. She doesn’t immediately scream or alert the neighbors or threaten him bodily harm. Maybe it’s because he’s been here before, and he’s the closest thing she has to news of her daughter. Maybe it’s because he has his facemask flipped up so she can see his eyes.

“I’m human,” he says before she can recover from her surprise. Her blue eyes dart to and fro as she evaluates him, just the way her daughter does when she suspects there might be a threat looming. “I’m not a monster, and I’m not a danger to you or your family.”

“Did you find her?” the woman asks, keeping her voice as low as Hiccup’s. He figures she has just as much to lose if he gets discovered. “Do you have her?”

“Not as a prisoner,” he qualifies. “She’s free.”

Maybe it’s not quite the right thing for him to say. Her brow seems to crumple with hurt and confusion. “She hasn’t come home.”

“She can’t.” Hiccup doesn’t want anyone on Berk knowing about the baby. It’s risky even doing this much. “I can’t tell you everything. But she’s alive, she’s safe, and she misses you. I can prove it to you. But I need something first.”

The Hofferson matriarch keeps her chin up, even as it wobbles. She watches him narrowly. “You’re not what I expected. Not what they say.” After a long moment of staring into his eyes, she must decide that he’s safe enough to cooperate with. She exhales a steadying breath. “Well, then? What could the Lord of Dragons want from our humble home?”

Hiccup feels the corner of his mouth daring to turn upwards. “First, I need your promise this stays between us…”

It’s something he hasn’t done in a long time.

He’s practicing a speech.

“And I promise that from now on… I’ll always be by your side.” Hiccup recites the same words he’s repeated over and over since leaving Berk. He’s reorganized them and rearranged them and eliminated them altogether. He’s written and rewritten a thousand different ways to tell his wife that no matter how many times they argue, no matter how much she despises him, he’s not going anywhere.

He has his gift from her mother stashed safely away, and his heart is thrumming with a nervous energy. With the time spent flying across the archipelago and back, he’s had time to think. And despite all the ways she told him– explicitly and implicitly– that she’s not ready to forgive him yet, she did say one thing.

She might have loved him. Once.

It’s a small thing to hold onto. Barely even mentioned in passing. It’s completely possible that any small amount of affection she held for him once is long gone now. But he’s seen the way his mother’s eyes cloud when she thinks about his dad. He remembers the way his father would reminisce about her. Similarly, if Astrid loved him then, she could love him now. It might not be too late.

At least, that’s the hope that he’s holding onto. That and an envelope from Berk.

It’s after mid-morning when the sanctuary comes into view. He’s relieved to see that there are no strange ships nearby, no nervous-looking dragons. Everything as he left it the day before.

Just as they’re approaching the island, though, something happens. Toothless’ ears prick, twitching this way and that, and he draws up in an alarmed loop-de-loop.

“Whoa!” Hiccup reaches out to touch his dragon’s crown. “What’s going on, bud?” His first, most terrifying thought is that there’s an enemy. An intruder. Someone’s breached the sanctuary.

Toothless whirs and barks in response, ducking with renewed speed to enter the maze of tunnels that make up the sanctuary’s caves. He moves so quickly that his rider’s vision is blurred as he dives through the stone labyrinth. Hiccup can feel the tension and urgency in every flick of the dragon’s wings.

They spill out near the top of the aviary, and a nest of hatchlings scatter at the commotion. Hiccup quickly scans the scenery, but none of the other dragons seem as agitated as his. The Bewildebeast is unphased by their entrance, staring intently into the distance. If there was a trapper here, wouldn’t the dragons know before anyone else? Wouldn’t the alpha have sensed approaching boats?

Toothless jerks in the direction of the Bewildebeast’s gaze, and Hiccup is pulled into flight just as he recognizes a pair of yellow and blue wings. Stormfly.

She’s perched near the alcove that Astrid has made into her room. Hopping back and forth with a frazzled energy, the Nadder screeches and flaps frantically towards the wall. His heart hammers against his breastbone as he watches Stormfly scratch the ground in distress.

Hiccup doesn’t have to say anything– his dragon is already zeroed in on the scene. Terror has frozen his blood in his veins, leaving him cold and numb and afraid.

“Astrid!” he shouts, and he’s tripping out of his saddle before Toothless has even properly touched down. Stormfly reacts by hissing and turning on him, using her wings to block his view.

“Hiccup!” Astrid’s voice calls back, sounding thready and strained. “Stormy, it’s okay, let him by.”

Whether she’s obeying her rider or intimidated by Toothless, the Nadder backs down. Just slightly at first, and then stepping aside so Hiccup can see Astrid sitting on the ground, leaned back against the cave wall. Her shoulders are hunched around her, and there’s sweat glistening on her forehead. When she slowly pushes to her feet, she keeps one hand knotted in the front of her tunic. She’s wincing.

“Astrid, what happened?” He’s immediately at her side, giving her his shoulder to steady her. “Is there somebody here?”

“Where were you?” Her accusation says volumes. She was looking for him. Before he can even answer, though, she asks, “When will Valka be back?”

“I don’t know,” he answers honestly. “Tell me what’s going on.”

“I need her,” she insists, letting him lead her over to Toothless. Stormfly’s irate chirping lessens just slightly at the sight of Astrid’s arm hooked around Hiccup’s side. “How far out is she?”

“I don’t know.” The second time he says it sounds even more pathetic. “She could be a couple of days out by dragon by now, maybe less.”

“Frigga,” she swears, looking upwards so she can blink back tears. “I don’t know what to do.”

He shifts her in front of him so that she can lean against his dragon, who is watching with concern and confusion. Hiccup cups her face in one hand and grips her arm with the other. “I’m here. I’m here, Astrid. What happened?”

After a moment of squeezing her eyes shut, clearly trying to not cry, she swallows and exhales slowly. “Something’s wrong,” she says. Her voice shakes. “It feels like– it just hurts. And I’m bleeding. I don’t think I’m supposed to.”

And there it is. His worst fear. Something he can’t protect her from, something he can’t stop. He has no answers, no way to help, and he feels absolutely useless. It’s exactly what he always knew would happen eventually, what he told her he was afraid of.

But there’s something– something else. Maybe something that’s been there forever, or maybe something that just grew there overnight. But it’s a steadiness. A calm that he couldn’t expect.

This is his wife. His child. And all the fear, the shock, the uncertainty that he feels somehow is dampened by the panic in her face. He has to act now, do something, and then he can process his own emotions later. For now, he has to be her husband.

“Here’s what we’re doing,” he begins, hoping his voice isn’t trembling as much as he is. “I’m taking you to the closest village. I’ll send a dragon out for Mom, tell her where we’re going so she can meet us there. Okay?”

Astrid doesn’t argue, doesn’t protest. She holds his eye contact, gaze full of trust, and nods.

“Okay. Now. It’s going to be a few hours’ flight. Do you think you can hang on to me or does Toothless need to carry you?”

He’s going through a checklist in his head: he needs to untie the saddlebags to lighten the load so Toothless can be faster; he needs to write a letter to his mom and find one of her tracking dragons; he needs to get her fur coat and consult his map. His thoughts are racing faster than he can keep up.

“I can manage for a little bit, but I don’t know how long.” In this moment, he can tell she’s forgotten how angry she is at him, how much they’ve fought. She’s holding tight to his shirt and leaning into his arms. “Can you hold me in front? Like the night of the sacrifice?”

“All day and longer,” he promises. When he pries her hand off of his arm, it’s with utmost gentleness and a tinge of regret. “Rest here with Tooth. We’ll be leaving in a minute. I’m sure the baby’s fine.” He’s not, and he hates it, but it seems like the right thing to say.

“You didn’t even want this,” she whispers, and he can see the paranoia slipping into her features, the hurt and the anger. “Why do you care what happens to the baby?”

“Stop.” He squeezes her shoulders and ducks his head to look her straight on. “You’re not doing that to me now. Not when I’m about to do everything in my power to make sure you and our baby are alright. Do you hear me?”

Astrid nods. The doubt in her expression seems to flee. She searches his face. “Our baby?”

He kisses her forehead. Hard. “Ours.”

Such a tiny word.

#dragondrabbles #sacrifice!au #part... twenty?

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7fics · 7 years

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I've had so many hostages before and you're by far THE WORST HOSTAGE EVER. I DON'T CARE IF YOU'RE UNCOMFORTABLE BC YOU'RE A HOSTAGE

Warnings: Lots’o cursing, innuendo, some (fairly minor?) violence/threats of violence

Author: TJ

Word Count: 1.7k

A/N: This fill gave me more trouble than I thought it would OTL thanks Mno for helping me plot (even though I still derailed from my plan HAH) But writing struggles aside, I hope this came out at least somewhat entertaining? ^^;;

“We’retrying, okay, we’re trying. But we didn’t - power didn’t completely - enoughtime - delete the - hasn’t - it - ch - tttssssss-”

Jaebum grimaced, dropping hiswalkie back into his pocket, fully muffling the static-y voices. Not that itmattered much, given he wasn’t able to understand the words being spoken eitherway. The reception was absolutely terrible within these thick, concrete walls.

“Mmmmmph! Mmph mph mphhhh! MMPH!”

Jaebum’s frown deepened into ascowl as he turned his attention to the gagged man on the other side of theroom, though the cap pulled low on his face probably didn’t allow hisdispleasure to be fully communicated to his captive.

The other man was young, strong,and stockily built, having put up quite the resistance in their tussle not toolong ago. If his security guard uniform was anything to go by, he’d probablybeen trained to deal with such situations.

Jaebum’s greater height gave himthe ultimate advantage, however, allowing him to snag a laptop charger off atop cabinet shelf and deftly wrap it around the other man’s neck, securing himinto a chokehold.

The struggle had ended promptlythereafter, and Jaebum, inspired by his apparent stroke of genius, took tofully restraining his new hostage with whatever wires and electrical cording hecould find in the small office they were in.

Oh, and stuffed a sock in the guy’smouth for good measure, too, because god did he not know how to shut up.

And that was ten minutes ago. Now,Jaebum was only becoming increasingly impatient. Taking a hostage hadn’t beenin the original plan, so clearly something had gone wrong. Jaebum was supposedto be helping to secure their exit, not stuck here babysitting this -

“MMMMMMPHHHHHHAAA! BLEH!”

His hostage finally managed todislodge the sock from his mouth, visibly wincing as he spat loudly. Jaebum’sexpression darkened, already contemplating taking off his other sock, (he wouldnot be touching the one that had saliva all over it),when the man spoke.

“Dude, what the hell? That wasgross! If you’re gonna gag me at least use something clean! That tasted sogross, man!”

“If you were able to keep yourmouth shut to begin with, I wouldn’t have had to resort to such measures,”Jaebum growled as he advanced forward menacingly, raising a hand for purpose ofintimidation.

“Aw, man, that’s so mean! I wasjust asking some questions– ohhh whoaaaaa. Whoa. Holy shit.”

The other man suddenly broke off,his already large eyes widening even further as he stared up at Jaebum, who’dcrossed the room towards him and consequently stepped into the light. For thefirst time, his features were clearly illuminated, and Jaebum tensed, his jawlocked and ready to face further resistance.

Instead, he almost choked on air atthe man’s next words.

“DUDE your face is a masterpiece!”

“…What?”Jaebum didn’t even know what that meant, almost swinging his fist at the guy’s facebecause what the hell even, but forced himself to pause when he was confrontedby furious headshaking.

“No like, seriously! How do youeven look like that? Are you sure you’re not a celebrity or something? And yourjawline is unreal!”

For the first time in a long time,Jaebum was completely flabbergasted. By a hostage, at that. Ittook him more than a few seconds to find his voice again, and even longer tofind words.

“What is wrong withyou? Are you an idiot?”

“I’m Jackson! Jackson Wang,actually!” The hostage, Jackson, responded enthusiastically, having the audacity toshoot Jaebum a wink. “Nice of you to ask. And actually, yes, the only thingwrong with me right now is my circulation might be getting cut off by thesecords of yours.”

He turned slightly to show off hiswrists that were twisted behind his back, wriggling his fingers.

“Don’t get me wrong, wouldn’t wantto get in the way of doing your job and all, Mr. Jawline, totally understandthat you had to tie me up for very important reasons. Could you just loosenthem a little bit, though?”

He blinked up at Jaebum innocently,cocking his head when he earned no verbal response.

“Oh come on, just a titch? Just ateensie eensie bit?”

Jaebum took a deep breath, countingdown from ten in his head so he didn’t accidently murderthis infuriating bastard. Don’tlose it, Jaebum, the gang needs a bargaining chip that’s alive.

“You do realize that I’m holdingyou hostage, right? That I couldn’t give a flying fuck about your comfort? ThatI could literally -” Jaebum grit his teeth, reaching down to lift Jackson up byhis collar, slamming his back into wall, “kill you right now?”

“Ohhh, kinky,” Jackson grimacedslightly when his head rebounded off the wall with a painful thud, but was backto grinning almost instantly. He even went slightly cross-eyed in order tomaintain eye contact with Jaebum, whose face was now mere inches away from hisown. “You know actually, if you’re gonna stay this close to me, I think I’d befine with these cords as long as-”

“Oh what the fuck,” Jaebumhissed, shoving Jackson off to the side as he stepped back with a look ofdisgust of on his face. Kicking off his shoe, Jaebum reached down, intent onremoving his other sock because clearly he was dealing with a total incompetentdumbass, and attempting to speak with him any more was only going to spike hisblood pressure.

“Oh, dude, no, please, not anothersock!” Jackson wailed, his irritating voice sounding much closer to a whinethan fearful begging. “Oh come on, please? Oh oh, I have a better idea! Ifyou’re gonna gag me, can you just take off your shirt and use that? You’vegotta have a killer bod, right? So no need to be shy, come on!”

Having already yanked his sock off,Jaebum snarled, moving forward with a vengeful rage when suddenly, his phonewent off.

Jaebum froze, sock still clutchedin hand before he finally exhaled deeply, retreating to the far end of the roomwith surprising swiftness as his phone was retrieved from his back pocket.

“Hello? What’s -”

“Get out, now. Forget the hostage,we have what we need and police are surrounding the premises, just get out now!”

“But where -”

Jaebum swore loudly when a telltaleclick signaled the other side hanging up, but he didn’t waste any timeattempting to redial.

Shit he needed his own way out, and if police were already surroundingthe premises he needed some way to slip through undetected. Almost immediately,he started running through his options, eyes scanning the room for anythingthat could be useful.

Eyes landing on Jackson, an ideastruck him, and for the first time, Jaebum returned Jackson’s grin with one ofhis own. He strode towards him briskly, whipping out the small army knife hekept in his other back pocket.

Jackson didn’t seem to notice theweapon, appearing simply starstruck at the appearance of Jaebum’s smile.

“Whoa, dude, you should smile moreoften, it’s quite- WAIT WHAT ARE YOU DOING?”

Jackson let out a muffled shriek,Jaebum pressing a palm against his mouth just in time to block most of thesound. Immediately, Jackson’s hands were on Jaebum’s own, his eyes wide.

Jaebum had cut his bonds, and wasnow busy tugging off his outer clothing. His button-up was off within seconds,and Jaebum’s efficiency ensured his undershirt followed shortly after.

“Whoa, whoa, aren’t we moving a bitfast here?” Jackson babbled as Jaebum went for his belt next, but didn’t resistdue to the cold blade pressed to the side of his throat. “Like, shouldn’t youtell me your name first, at least? Isn’t that basic etiquette?”

Jaebum didn’t respond, directingall his attention towards stripping Jackson down. There was a large amount offumbling, but the knife pressed against Jackson’s skin never wavered.

“Oh come on, now you won’t eventalk to me? You’re just gonna - hey, hey, I thought we were over the bondage!”

Having stripped Jackson down topretty much just his underwear, Jaebum quickly restrained him once more withthe cords, shoving him off to the side when he finished.

“Aww, really? You’re just going toleave me here? Naked?”

Jaebum couldn’t help but smirk ashe pulled off his own clothes, switching into Jackson’s uniform instead. It wasa tight fit, and the pants were definitely too short, but it’d do - no oneshould question a security guard wearing the company badge.

“You’ve got your underwear, haven’tyou? You’ve got quite the killer bod yourself, so no need to be shy, right?”Jaebum didn’t even try to keep the smugness out of his voice, mood instantlylifted by Jackson’s pitiful state.

Jaebum gathered his own clothesnext, stuffing them into his pack, and therefore missed the mischievous gleamthat lit up in Jackson’s eyes.

“Why, thank you. Does that count asyou flirting back, Mr. Jawline?”

Jaebum snorted, striding towardsthe door to make his leave without a single backwards glance.

By the time the door finally swungto a close, Jaebum was already halfway down the hall. So the faint “Call me!”that was yelled out right before it clicked shut just barely made it toJaebum’s ears.

He’d merely scoffed, shaking hishead as he broke into a determined sprint.

Just as Jaebum predicted, slippingthrough the crowd of police had been a piece of cake with his security guardgetup. Arriving back at their base was easy enough after that, and Jaebum wasrelieved to find out that despite the many hiccups along the way, the heist hadbeen an overall success.

It wasn’t until much later, aftermany hours of drunken celebration and feasting, that Jaebum finally returnedhome to his apartment, slipping off his shoes to find a tiny slip of paperflutter up and out of the left heel.

It was a haphazardly folded note, with equally haphazard handwriting that was still somehow legible.

First, a series of digits that wereclearly a phone number. Then, a signature:

~ JW :)

Jaebum slept fitfully that night,dreaming of large, shining eyes and dirty socks.

#jackbum #got7 #character:jackson #character:jb #genre:au #genre:humor #author:tj

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