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green-socks · 3 years ago

Text

Bear With Me

Pairing: Pero Tovar x F!reader

Summary: Pero was cursed when he was young, and now he lives cut off from everyone and everything. You enter his life unexpectedly - will he let you stay?

Words: 9.3k (I slipped)

Warnings: very AU, Pero turns into a literal bear. But nothing major really. Kinda sorta implied possibility of domestic violence? But nothing is ever explicitly said and nothing happens to anyone.

Notes: Oh man, I've been at this for weeks and now I'm ready to not look at it anymore. All born because one morning I saw a picture of a bear and thought "hey, looks kinda cuddly" and now we're here. Also inspired by Beorn from The Hobbit a bit. The title is my plea to you all lmao. I'm immensely grateful for @ickleronniekinsemotionalrange who is the loveliest and offered her knowledge of Spanish to help my duolingo-skipping ass. lly bby <3. Tagged the usuals plus those who asked/seemed interested.

MASTERLIST

You are lost. Terribly lost, and alone, stumbling through the woods, your only focus on putting one foot in front of the other and getting as far away as you can from what you left behind. Branches have cut into your face and hands, and they sting in the cold night air.

If you’re being honest, you hadn’t really planned this desperate escape very well at all, just seized the opportunity to run as soon as it came. You hadn’t packed clothes, just grabbed your traveling cloak and a little food for the journey. You have some coins, but a fat lot of good those would do if you lost yourself in the middle of nowhere with no inns or markets for miles. And there would be search parties, you knew that. This was all very unfitting and improper for a lady, and truthfully, that was the spiteful spark that kept you going.

That, and the thought of that horrible, vile, disgusting man your family was forcing you to marry. It would have been a good, beneficial match for both families, but you refused to throw your life away and sacrifice your happiness even for such a cause. Besides, you had always dreamed that getting a husband would be your ticket to something better, never really feeling loved or appreciated in your own home. Marrying some old idiot who treats other humans like garbage is not the way. You know the man is violent and cruel, and you do not want a part in that life.

So, you ran away and kept on running, and got lost, and now you're so very tired and cold and thirsty and scared. For some reason, you had thought it would be safer to walk in the woods rather than on the road at night, and in a way, you were right, because you have not seen another living creature bigger than a squirrel for hours. The problem is that in the darkness you had lost your way and were no longer at all sure of the direction nor the goal of your journey. In the darkness everything seems to be moving and staying still at the same time, creeping you out more and more the deeper you go. You think – hope – you were hallucinating when you saw a giant something moving beyond the trees some time ago.

Eventually, you don’t have any more strength to go on and you have no choice but to stop and rest for a while. Your last thought is that you would probably die and get eaten by a bear as you curl into a ball on the forest floor and pass out, the exhaustion overtaking you.

--------

Pero wakes up that following morning not long after daybreak, which is much earlier than he should like, to a very insistent goose honking at him and biting his ankles to wake him up. He opens his eyes just so he can glare at the goose.

“Qué quieres?” he grunts. “You know better than to come wake me this early.”

The goose doesn’t quit honking, and behind the noisy bird there’s also his trusted ewe.

Okay, they must really have something important to say if they both came to wake him up.

“What is it? Is someone hurt?”

The answer is clearly an affirmative, so he quickly moves to get up.

“Lead the way then.”

He is surprised, though, when his companions lead him farther into the forest, beyond his immediate garden, beyond all the stables and little lodgings for all his friends.

There are birds twittering around a lump lying on the ground, which Pero immediately recognizes as a human, not an animal. He had been aware of someone walking in the forest last night, but he had taken off in the other direction as stealthily as he could to not endanger the person and to protect himself from being seen as well.

He doesn’t know how long it has been since he has last been in contact with another human, but he’s sure it’s been several long years. He would rather keep all potential visitors far, far away from his cabin, but he can’t very well leave an innocent woman to die on his land. He would try to help her, as he helped all the creatures he found as best he could, though he has to admit he has never done that for a human before.

The woman seems to be unconscious, because she doesn’t stir at all even when he lifts her up in his arms. Pero makes his way back to his cabin, trailed by the animal company observing the situation. He lays her down on his bed before moving quickly to find some herbs that could help, as well as some food and water, hoping she’d stir sooner rather than later. He leaves the ewe in charge of the situation, knowing she will take the responsibility seriously.

--------

You wake up to sunlight filling your bedroom – only it isn’t your bedroom. Someone else’s bedroom entirely, in a house you don’t remember ever visiting.

You had flitted in and out of consciousness during the night. Day? How long have you been asleep for anyway? What day is it? What time is it? Your stomach growls, saying time to eat.

The room around you is unfamiliar, but the warm sunlight makes it feel welcoming and cozy. The bed is very large and quite comfortable with lovely blankets and pillows. There’s not much furniture though, only a cabinet on the far side from the bed, which you suspect holds clothes and such, and what looked like a basin, presumably for washing up.

New clothes have been laid out for you on the foot of the bed. You faintly remember hearing a man’s low voice a couple of times, and you think you maybe saw a sheep watching you at some point, but you probably dreamed that. Pulling on the clothes you notice that they are ridiculously large on you, the shirt much too broad in the shoulders and the sleeves far too long. You have to roll the sleeves several times to get your hand to peek out of them and tie the pants up with a string. The pants at the very least confirm that these are a man’s clothes, which alarms you just a little, because it seems you are alone in a house with at least one man, and seemingly no women.

Getting ready to leave the room, you are surprised to find a tray of food waiting for you outside the door. There is a fresh loaf of bread, cheese and butter, eggs, a flagon of water, a big pile of berries and fruits, and even a pastry! You come from a very wealthy family, and yet you could not have hoped for a better spread to sate your hunger. The man who lives here must be quite wealthy too, then, and it baffles you that such a man doesn’t seem to have even a maid in his house.

Not wanting to contemplate on that too hard now that you have food in front of you, you carry the tray back on the bed and tuck in with the fervor of a wild beast. Thank goodness there is no one to witness it.

After eating, you take another nap. The exhaustion of your runaway journey is still in your bones; muscles ache all over your body and your feet really hurt.

By now you can tell that the sunlight you had woken up to had been the last rays of the day rather than the first, so you deduce you must have slept all day rather than just the night. With the light dimming fast, you decide to leave exploring the house for tomorrow. You have not seen or heard anyone in the time you’ve been awake, but that’s okay. You’re still clearly being taken care of. Deciding you’ll go and introduce yourself first thing tomorrow morning, you lay down and quickly fall asleep again.

The next time you wake up you are sure that this time it really is morning. After sleeping for almost the entirety of yesterday, you’re now ready to face everything with new energy. The house still seems very quiet; the only thing you can hear is birds chirping outside.

There’s a breakfast tray again set for you just behind the door, filled with fresh food. Even the breakfasts at home couldn’t compare with this. You seriously consider offering to stay at the house as a maid just to be fed like this – of course, maids were usually not fed as good as the masters of the house or their guests. Plus, you hadn’t worked a day in your life, as you sadly remind yourself. What exactly had you imagined for your future when you ran away?

Shaking away that thought for now, you set out to find the people who live in the house – who had saved you!

It’s quiet, but there are soft rays of sunlight filling out the cabin, giving it a pleasant lively glow. You can imagine it glows at night too, based on the amount of beeswax candles all around the cabin. The house seems to be on one floor, but very large and open. It seems like a good sturdy home. Only the bedroom where you came from is behind a door, otherwise you can see everything in the open common space – a kitchen space for cooking, a strong-looking wooden table for eating, some comfortable looking mats and pillows to sit on around the corners. But there’s still no one else in sight.

You find it less odd now that there was no maid with the cabin being odd in other ways too. Hoping to find someone in the yard, you carefully step through the huge double doors to the still crisp morning air.

The first thing you see is different sizes of pens and houses for animals of all sorts. You see chickens, sheep (there really had been a sheep then), geese, cats, birds, pigs, and even a goat and a horse mulling about. Blinking in stunned surprise, you stand there observing the animal farm, who in turn don’t seem to pay you much mind. Only the sheep you had seen before looks to be staring you back.

“Where’s your owner?” you ask them at large, but mostly addressing the sheep – not that you expect it to really answer.

To your surprise, it’s not the ewe who answers you, but a goose, who honks and jerks his head in the direction of the stable.

“Th-thank you,” you answer the goose, still feeling rather unsure of whether you’re actually communicating with the animals or if you’re just overanalyzing their normal behavior.

But into the stable you go, cautiously peering in. There, in the stall that you assume belongs to the big black horse you saw, is a man curled up on a stack of hay, snoring faintly.

You inch closer, more curious still. Is he a farmhand asleep on the job?

Your foot accidentally trips on a bucket, and the clang startles the man awake.

“What now?” His question is a barely intelligible growl.

“Why are you sleeping there?” you return, not fazed by the grumpy, scruffy looking man.

The man seems only then to notice you’re there, and he sits up, rubbing the sleep from his eyes, taking you in. He has a dark, curly mane of hair down to his shoulders with a scraggly beard to match, and a scar down his left eye that highlights his annoyed expression.

“You were sleeping in my bed, where else would I sleep,” he grumbles.

“Your bed? You own that cabin?”

“Sí.”

“I thought you were maybe a farmhand or a stableboy,” you try to say apologetically, but apparently fail.

“My friends don’t need anyone else but me here; they can take care of themselves,” he scowls.

“Your friends?”

The man throws out an impatient hand pointing through the open door to the yard where the animals seem to be listening in on your conversation.

“Oh, right!” You feel embarrassed now. “Well, I wanted to thank you for saving me” –he grunts in acknowledgement– “and for taking care of me,” you finish shyly. When he doesn’t answer, you continue, “How long was I sleeping? What day is it?”

“I don’t know.”

“How can you not know?”

“I have no need to know. Every day is the same. Mealtimes are the only time I need to keep.”

“But what about when you go to the market?”

“I don’t.”

“Really? Why not?”

“I have everything I need here.” He sounds like his patience is wearing thin on your questions. “What I would like to know is why you are here.”

“You brought me here! At least, I assume so...”

“Yes. But why were you passed out near my house?”

“I was lost. On my way,” you reply evasively.

“Where were you going?” he asks, frowning.

“I don’t know. I mean, I’m not going to tell you!” you correct hastily.

You realize that even though this man claims he never goes to town, he could easily be lying or joking or something, and if he were to blab to someone at a tavern that he had found a woman lost in the forest... Well, that wouldn’t be good for you. You doubt the search parties would even have given up so quickly, given the wealth of both families involved. They would search in the forest too; you were sure of it.

He looks at you suspiciously, scowling still more.

“Why do you live here in the middle of nowhere anyway?” you ask, trying to change the subject.

Apparently, that was a bad idea. His scowl deepens to previously unknown proportions.

“Y eso a ti qué te importa? That is none of your business.”

Right. Well, to be fair, you didn’t tell him what you were really doing in the forest either. Maybe you’re both hiding something. But he seems courteous enough, and someone who takes care of so many animals can’t be all bad. The man may not be the most pleasant host, but you also don’t feel threatened by him.

“You’re right, I’m sorry. I just wanted to thank you for helping me so much. And for letting me sleep in your only bed. That was very kind of you. You did not have to do that,” you say softly, hoping you can start on a better foot now.

This time his scowl is more of an embarrassed one, and seeing it makes the corners of your mouth twitch in a smile.

“It was no trouble. They did the most, I just stayed away,” he says gruffly, jerking his head in the direction of the animals.

“Oh? Did they also make my breakfast?” you tease. “You must have trained them well; their baking skills are sublime.”

He rolls his eyes at you but doesn’t say anything. The tips of his ears are a little red though.

“What’s your name?” you dare to ask him.

“Pero. Pero Tovar. And what should I call you, lady?” he asks as he finally stands up from his hay bed, coming to stand in front of you.

At that point you’re glad you don’t blurt out you can call me whatever you want to, sir, because the man is huge. Somehow you had not paid attention to his size when he had been sitting on the floor, a little farther from you in the shadows, but now you could well understand why his clothes were so ridiculously big on you.

He’s clearly a lot taller than you, taller than all the men you know, and the breadth of his shoulders is frankly breathtaking.

You somehow manage to stammer out your name, and he nods.

“You can stay here while you recover. Let me know when you are ready to leave,” he says, moving past you, signaling that the conversation was over.

“Thank you,” you squeak out after him.

It’s not that you want to overstay your welcome and seem like you’re using him, but you’re also not keen on leaving just yet. You have no clue as to where you want to go, how to get there, and what to do when you get there. There’s even a tiny voice in your head telling you to go back home and get the marriage thing over with – you certainly wouldn’t be the only woman in history forced to marry a horrible man for monetary gain.

But you tell that voice no. Not after all this. You wouldn’t want to admit defeat and submit to your fate like that. You don’t want to. So, you have no other choice but to just buckle up and move forward. Always move forward. Perhaps your host would be able to at least point you in the direction of the nearest town that isn’t your own, and you’d be able to travel on from there. It would be best if you could lay low for a while though, just to wait for the storm to pass…

You run after him, deciding on the spot to ask him if he would let you stay with him for a few days longer. You could repay and be of use somehow, right?

“Mr. Tovar!”

He freezes, looking over his shoulder at you. “Just Pero,” he says, sounding like he barely even recognizes his own name addressed like that.

“Oh, right, okay, Pero. It’s a great name!” You cringe, horrified at your talent at making conversation with him so far. Why did you blurt it out like that? The man looks even more confused now.

“Ahem. I was just wondering if you would maybe let me enjoy your hospitality a little longer,” you start tentatively. “Just for a few days, until I figure out where to go from here, then I’ll be out of your hair. And I can help around while I stay! I can help feed the animals and whatever else you need. I don’t have much experience, but I’m sure I could be useful!”

His frown is contemplative now, and you think it’s a good sign that he is at least bothering to consider the idea.

“I’ll even sleep in the stable, you can have your bed back,” you finish your speech with a final dash of earnest, pleading eyes.

“No.”

The small flame of hope in your chest dies like someone had just poured a bucket of water on it.

“You will have the bed.”

--------

Pero doesn’t know what made him say that.

Well, that’s not true. He’s fairly certain those beautiful eyes of yours had something to do with it. You looked like you might cry if he didn’t let you stay, and he wouldn’t have known how to deal with that at all. He just knows his friends are having a laugh at his expense behind his back right now.

“Really? You mean it?”

Pero would never admit it, but the smile and relief on your face make him feel all warm inside and solidify his choice.

“My horse wouldn’t want anyone else sleeping in his stall, it is better that way,” he says dismissively.

That is probably true, although it isn’t the whole truth. He has no use for the bed at nights anyway, so you might as well sleep there and stay out of harm’s way at the same time. If he ever sleeps at night it’s curled up on a nice patch of moss somewhere in the forest, but he knew for sure he wouldn’t sleep well until you were safely out of the woods. Until then the short naps in the stable would have to do. He wouldn’t put you at risk by staying here during the nights.

“So, what can I do to help?” you ask, pulling him away from his thoughts.

“I have no use for help,” is his automatic reply, because he has never needed any help and he certainly doesn’t expect his only guest ever to help.

“Please, I’m sure there’s something I could help with! I would feel bad just lying about while you work,” you insist.

“Bueno. I’ll show you how to take care of the chickens. Come.”

--------

The next couple of days pass quickly with you learning how to take care of the animals and the bees and the gardens and vegetable patches and the surrounding forest. In truth, there’s no way you could learn even a fraction of all that in just two days, but a tired Pero lets you follow him around and help wherever he thinks you can be useful. He doesn’t seem to mind that you have no previous knowledge of such labor whatsoever, which you are grateful for. And it’s giving you good experience for when you will try to find work later!

It’s surprisingly enjoyable, helping with all this work around his property. It’s making you feel like you have a purpose, even if it is only in this little bubble in the middle of the woods. You can see that Pero keeps himself busy and doesn’t have many moments of stillness. He feeds the animals, takes care of the gardens, plants new seeds, cooks and bakes for himself (and now you), gathers needed supplies and food from the forest, goes to fetch water, and tons of other things. You don’t know where he learned to do it all, because to you it seems like there is nothing he can’t do.

Somehow two days slip into five, but neither of you say anything about it. Instead, Pero is teaching you how to make bread. He had blushed very endearingly when you had praised the food he makes, especially his bread, and promised he could teach you how to do it, but also insisted that the good flavor came from the ingredients, not his skill.

On the seventh day Pero raises the question of your returning back where you came from. He suggests that he could help you find your way back, trace your steps, and even travel with you some of the way to make sure you don’t get lost again. In a slight panic you beg him to let you stay just a couple more days still. The truth is, you really don’t have a good enough excuse for staying anymore, but you also don’t want to leave. You feel good here. Facing the real world doesn’t sound appealing at all anymore. He acquiesces, but you can tell it’s a little begrudgingly. You feel bad for overstaying your welcome so rudely, but you hope you can repay him.

--------

Pero doesn’t understand why you still want to stay with him. It cannot be the company, so there must be some other reason for you wanting to continue staying here, he thinks.

That night, while you are safely sleeping inside, Pero goes on his usual nighttime patrol. Even though he has had to isolate himself, and he’s sure he would be chased away from every single one of the villages surrounding the forest, he still watches over them, often scaring away robbers and plunderers and the like that creep in the night. He never dares get too close to any human dwellings, though, opting to keep watch on the roads nearby instead. Doing these small deeds to help protect the villagers keeps giving him a sense of purpose. It’s his way of atoning for his past sins – he has hurt people, but now he can maybe save others from getting hurt. The irony of him protecting people from others while also protecting them from himself isn’t lost on him.

Unconsciously, his heavy legs carry him to the place where he found you days ago. He decides that tonight is as good a night as any to check on this part of the forest, and lumbers on, farther away from his own lands.

The night is dark, but in the distance, Pero can see small specks of light. It doesn’t take him long to figure out they are torches, and that there are several, which means there are also several people roaming the forest tonight. A gang of robbers? Mercenaries? Whoever they are, good people don’t usually stomp like that in a forest in the middle of the night – he should know. On top of that, the group is being annoyingly noisy. It sounds like they are purposefully making a racket. Why are they being so loud? What is their business here?

Pero decides to investigate and creeps closer, staying hidden in the shadows as best he can with his massive form. Soon he can make out what they are yelling, and what he hears chills his blood.

Your name. They are shouting your name, clearly looking for you.

Anger fills his body, his temper always so much worse when he’s like this, pulling primal, animal instincts out of him. You have endangered him! All these people are after you, and they could find himwhile they’re looking, and who knows what would happen to him then. He has so carefully stayed away and made his life as good as he can in complete isolation – safe – that he’s not ready to have it ripped away from him.

With the anger boiling his blood, it takes every ounce of self-control to not run straight back to his cabin and throw you out of his home at once. But he cannot, he must wait until morning. It would only make things worse to have you see him like this. He has no idea when he became this sentimental, but somewhere in the back of his mind he recognizes that he would rather not hurt you.

Letting out a furious roar to blow off some steam, he sets off running full pace in the opposite direction, away from the group of people, away from his home. His only glimmer of hope is that the search party could be so frightened at the sound of him that they give up searching for you, thinking that you’ve been eaten by a bear…

Your company had made him forget why he absolutely did not want any visitors. What a fool he has been, forgetting his own rules, thinking he was safe while an outsider lived in his house.

--------

The next day you wake up as usual and go fix yourself a breakfast. The breakfast trays had stopped coming when you were back on your feet, but you didn’t mind that. You’re happy to manage your own meals, enjoying a quiet moment by yourself in the morning before going to wake up Pero in the stall and starting the day’s chores.

Only this morning when you go to the stable, it’s empty. That’s strange. Pero hadn’t said he would be going anywhere last night, but then again, he probably wasn’t used to reporting his comings and goings to another person.

Still, you ask around from the animals if they have seen him but seem to get back a lot of shrugs and shaking heads. You try not to panic but worry still creeps in your heart. You have never been alone here without him, and suddenly it feels like a very different place. His presence fills the whole property in a way that you instantly miss now that he’s not present, doing the chores with you. You try to assure yourself he’ll be back soon – he would have said if he was gone longer, wouldn’t he? Maybe he had just expected you to still be asleep at this time.

By midday, Pero is still nowhere to be seen. It’s getting harder and harder to not worry about him. What if something happened and he’s hurt and alone somewhere in the forest, like you had been? You make a promise to yourself then and there to take his horse and go looking for him if he doesn’t come back very soon.

There’s noise behind you; the goose and sheep both yelling at something. The something turns out to be the man of the house, walking briskly toward you.

“Pero! I’m so relieved to see you! I thought you–.” Your voice dies away when you see the furious expression on his face. He is a veritable mountain of a man, and yet you’ve never seen him anything but gentle – okay, he’s a big grump, but never like this. Now he looks downright scary.

“Wha–"

“You didn’t tell me there were people looking for you,” he growls, and you feel your heart drop through your stomach. “There’s a whole party out there roaming this forest, and they were getting too close to my liking last night. So, you can now go back to them and take them away with you. I don’t want to see anyone around my cabin again.”

You couldn’t find your voice to speak, but Pero barreled on, “You have fooled me into letting you stay, and all this time you were putting me and my friends in danger by being here, leading those people to us. Vete. Never tell them where you were.”

“Pero, please believe me, I didn’t mean to do any of that! I will go, you are right, I have been a burden to you long enough, but I will not go back to those people. You can throw me to the wolves if you wish, but I am not going back there. They are the ones I was running from in the first place!” Your voice is watery, and your chest feels too tight, but you have to make him hear you out.

Pero doesn’t look any less thunderous, but at least he’s letting you talk.

“I’m– I’m sorry I didn’t tell you there would be people looking for me. I was so foolish; I didn’t realize how it could affect you. I promise I never meant to stay this long or come here at all, but I liked it here with you so much I didn’t want to leave! I never meant any harm to you or your friends, I swear,” you finish, needing him to believe you.

Long moments pass without either of you saying anything anymore. After a while you recognize that this is it and leave to pack your few possessions.

Alone in Pero’s bedroom, you let the tears fall. You feel stupid for not realizing hiding something like that would make Pero upset. Can you blame him? You had avoided all his questions about why you had been in the forest and where you came from. He had saved you and let you stay here out of the goodness of his heart, and you had just been selfish, liked the comfortable life. But it wasn’t your life – the whole point of this journey had been to find your own, not crash into somebody else’s.

Feeling like you have taken enough from him already, you don’t dare grab even a loaf of bread for the journey as you leave. Pero is outside the front door, leaning against the wall there with his arms crossed over his wide chest. He doesn’t look at you as you pass him and whisper a small goodbye.

You haven’t taken more than five steps when his gruff voice stops you.

“What were you running from?”

“What?”

“You said you were running from those people who are looking for you. Por qué?”

“Oh, Pero, never mind that now, it’s stup–”

“People don’t run away for stupid reasons.”

You pause. It almost sounds like he’s speaking from experience. Not for the first time you wonder about the story behind his choice to live out here all alone.

“I– Well, other people stay and suck it up. I couldn’t,” you try to explain.

“What do you mean?”

Pero is still looking extremely scowl-y, but at least he doesn’t radiate anger anymore.

“My family was making me marry a horrible, cruel man for money. I knew if I married him, I would be miserable for the rest of my days, living under his thumb, getting my soul crushed every day. The few times I met him it was clear he had no respect for me, or for other people in general. I won’t bore you with the details, but even now I know I made the right choice in leaving. And I know tons of other women live in a situation like that with no chance to change it. But I had a chance and took it.”

“And these people would take you back and force you?” he asks quietly.

“I believe so, yes. I would not want to take the risk of finding out if I’m right,” you answer firmly. “My father would not care, of that I am sure.”

Pero nods but doesn’t say anything else for a moment.

“It is.. dangerous if they come here. I want to keep them as far away from here as possible.”

“I understand, Pero. And I’m really sorry for the trouble I’ve caused.” You know he needs to protect himself – after all, that’s what you were doing as well. “If anything, I am happy you didn’t lead them to me straight away.”

Pero seems to think for a moment.

“What if I took something of yours and placed it far away from here, maybe on the side of a road? A piece of clothing, something they would know is yours. They could follow that false trail and not come back to this direction again.”

You are stunned. “You– You would do that for me? Truly?”

“You are safer that way,” Pero says like it’s no big deal.

--------

Later that night Pero takes a few chunks of fabric torn from your dress to a more distant part of the forest, sprinkling a false trail near a road that leads to the nearest bigger town in hopes of the searchers picking it up and thinking you were still traveling onward. You both reasoned that the searchers would mostly be interested in finding you alive, and that’s why fine combing a whole forest wouldn’t probably be their priority anyway. You were a little upset at basically losing your only dress but agreed with Pero that it was the best course of action.

After that, things settle down to the way they were before, only now the air around you is more relaxed. Pero knows more about you now and subsequently trusts you more, and he can feel himself starting to be quite comfortable around you. You’ve been thanking him over and over for letting you stay, and Pero is very pleased to have been able to help you, but he’s also feeling very conflicted. How long would it take until his secret comes out? It’s getting harder and harder to imagine saying goodbye to you, but he knows that must happen. He hopes you will leave soon to end this storm of emotions swirling inside him – and yet the last thing he wants is to see you go.

The routine continues, with you helping him take care of the animals and the gardens, and him teaching you to cook and mend things. He helps you to tailor some of his clothes to fit you better, since your dress was torn and his clothes are impractically large on you – though he secretly likes seeing you in his tunic, for some weird reason he can’t explain to himself. It makes his heart beat erratically when he sees the long sleeves fall way past your fingers as you wave your arms while talking, or when the fabric slips off your shoulder again, and how you huff in adorable annoyance when that happens.

In your company Pero starts feeling like a normal human again, and he lets himself even joke around you. He’s genuinely having fun with you, in a way he can’t ever remember having, although sometimes it still gets a little overwhelming for him. He’s been alone for so long it takes some adjusting to remember to take you into account in everything. Fortunately, you seem to understand this, and give him a lot of space to be by himself too.

Slowly he adjusts to your small touches, too. He wasn’t foreign to touch, he pets his friends every day, but it felt new to be on the receiving end of such touches from you. It started small with fleeting touches here and there, but with time you held his hand a little longer every time, and he felt all the tension leave his shoulders for those short blissful moments.

Before he knows it, a month has passed since you came to stay with him. He hasn’t kept count of days in a very long time, but since you came, he has. Pero finds himself enjoying your company more and more with each passing day, and it’s all the more painful at night when he’s reminded of what he really is, and why you could never stay – why you would never want to stay.

--------

Life with Pero is better than what you ever imagined you could find for yourself after running away. Much of it has to do with the lovely animals you’ve befriended, and the quiet, simple everyday routines. For someone who had never done any sort of physical labor in your life, you never could have guessed how fulfilling this life feels to you. But the biggest reason for your happiness is, of course, Pero. You enjoy his company, all the things you do together, and especially delight in the playful side of him he sometimes lets out along with his gorgeous dimple. And the care he shows for all living things, not just his own animals, speaks of his kindness and the love hiding under the intimidating exterior. More than a few times you’ve found yourself staring at his capable hands as he works around the yard, brushes the horse, kneads dough… On one warmer day he worked shirtless chopping firewood, and you had to leave to cool down for a couple of hours, because you’re certain the way you wanted to stare at his rippling muscles was in no way polite.

You had never seen or known anyone like him. You hadn’t thought him extraordinarily handsome when you first laid eyes on him, too distracted by everything else going on then, but you definitely noticed now. His ridiculously big and warm brown eyes drew you in, as well as the striking line of his nose, and the plush bottom lip you tried your hardest not to stare at every time he talked. He had even cut his hair some, showing you more of his beautiful face.

The truth is, you’re falling for the gentle giant, and that makes it almost impossible to imagine ever leaving his cabin to go build a life on your own. It would hurt to leave Pero, and you think you’d miss him, and this place, no matter where you’d go. You still try to remind yourself that just because you feel this way, doesn’t mean he does too.

But sometimes you think he might. For all his kindness, you don’t believe he’s letting you stay purely out of the goodness of his heart. You know he enjoys your company too, clear in the way he’s been opening up a little and relaxing around you more. He tells you stories of his past, and your heart feels full imagining Pero running around wild as a young boy. He tells you stories of how he learned so many things, from woodworking skills to new languages, and about the old man who had helped him get supplies when he was setting up the cabin here. It’s clear the man had been a great help to Pero and that it was painful for him to talk about the man who had passed away years ago now, and your heart breaks for him, but you hope to hear more someday.

Pero also does seem to get flustered and surprisingly bashful with you quite often, but you’re not sure if you can take all the credit for that with your gentle teasing – adjusting to company is probably still a lot for him at times.

Still, you feel that you are not completely deluded in thinking he might return your feelings. Daring to trust in that hope, to take the first step, is another issue entirely.

You’ve been gathering courage for a few days now to ask Pero to come join you in the bed at night. Not meaning to pressure him into anything more intimate, but just to get him out of sleeping in the stall with his horse. That cannot be good for his back. Besides, you feel bad for having stolen his only bed all for yourself, when said bed was easily big enough for the both of you to fit comfortably.

Alright, having his presence there would both comfort and exhilarate you a lot, and you wouldn’t mind if something were to happen at some point, but you truly don’t mean to push him to anything more at all. You know it’s not entirely appropriate, but really, who’s going to judge you here.

That evening you approach the subject with him.

“Pero, I wanted to talk to you about something.”

Pero grunts, acknowledging you.

“I’ve been thinking… It’s really not fair for me to hog your bed all to myself and make you sleep out in the stable.”

“It is no trouble at all, chula.”

“And you still insist the horse doesn’t want anyone else sleeping in his stall but you?”

“He barely tolerates me,” Pero grumbles, shaking his head, but fondly.

“Right, so it doesn’t make sense for you to sleep there. I’ve been here for so long that I think we should just share the bed,” your voice gets quieter toward the end of your sentence, but Pero still hears you loud and clear. His head whips up from where he was whittling something, and he looks at you with his big brown eyes blown even wider.

“No, not like tha– I didn’t mean– I just meant there’s enough space for both of us,” you finish lamely, extremely flustered.

Pero just keeps staring at you with what you can only describe as a horrified expression on his face.

Well, this wasn’t going as you hoped. You’re mortified now, since Pero probably still thinks you’re propositioning him, and he clearly can’t think of much worse things than sleeping with you.

“No.”

“Come on, Pero, I meant just for sleeping only. It’s not that big of a deal. We don’t have to eve–“

“No. I would never do that,” he insists forcefully.

Your heart plummets in shame.

“Remember to lock the door. Descansa.” And with that Pero promptly marches out of the house without sparing you another glance.

You flinch as the door slams shut. You had honestly thought he might like you back, but clearly you were wrong if he won’t even entertain the notion of sharing the bedroom with you.

A little while later, as you’re trying to fall asleep in the bed that seems larger than ever now, you wrestle with feeling embarrassed, hurt, and guilty. Pero’s dismissal of the idea had been quite callous even for his grumpy self. The look in his eyes had spoken of more than just wanting to be a good, respectful host – he had looked positively disgusted by the thought. That hurt you. But you also realize that you may have pressured him too much. Maybe it’s all too much for him still. Maybe you should apologize?

All the emotional turmoil swirling inside you makes it impossible to fall asleep. You don’t even want to sleep with this between you, you want to talk it out. If Pero can’t bring himself to share with you, you’ll sleep in the stall and make him take the bed, at least for some nights. Besides, you’ve made good friends with the horse in your time here – how could Pero claim the stallion wouldn’t want you there.

Deciding to go find Pero right now, you make your way through the pitch-black darkness of the night to the stable, but he’s not there. Only the horse and everyone else sleeping in their own places like nothing’s amiss. Trying not to let panic take over, you rationalize that if all the animals are sleeping soundly, there is likely no need to worry. Pero probably told them he’d take a little walk to clear off his head after that disaster of a conversation and would be back shortly. You’ve learned not to worry about Pero alone in the forest too much, even at night. He knows these woods better than anyone, especially around his own cabin.

That still doesn’t mean you’ll go back to bed before he comes back. No, you need to see him return to be absolutely sure he is alright, and then you can talk.

After a moment, pacing around the stable gets tiring, so you settle down on a pile of hay in a corner. You’ll just rest here for a bit while you wait. Can’t be too long now.

You wake up hours later to Pero shaking you awake rather forcefully. Before you even get your eyes fully open, you can tell he’s mad. And in a different way than you have ever seen him before.

“What are you doing here?” he hisses, but at the same time lets go of you as if he just realized what he was doing.

Blinking your eyes to adjust to the light coming in through the door, you mumble tiredly, “I came looking for you, but you weren’t here, and I fell asleep waiting.”

“You– you slept here all night?!”

You haven’t heard Pero raise his voice before, but it seems that for some reason he doesn’t have control over his reactions at all right now.

“Yes, but it’s no big deal, I’m fin–“

“I have told you not to wander outside at night, haven’t I?” he growls, pacing around the stable.

You still don’t understand why he’s in such distress about this.

“Yes, but I didn’t wander, I came looking for you!” You’re starting to get a little annoyed now. “I didn’t want to go to bed after I made you upset. Why are you acting like a bear that’s been shot in the ass anyway?”

He stops pacing and glares at you.

“You could have been hurt,” he whispers.

Oh, is that what this is about?

“I’m sure you would have protected me if there had been any danger,” you try to placate him.

“NO, you don’t understand, I could have hurt you!” he yells, seeming beside himself.

“What are you talking about Pero?” You’re completely bewildered now. Hurt you? How? What?

“I can’t protect you from me,” he grits out, and he actually sounds like the mere thought is causing him immense pain.

“I know you wouldn’t hurt me Pero, that’s absurd!”

An impatient grunt. “No lo entiendes… You don’t know the true me, you don’t know what I am.”

“I know the things that matter, I know that you are a good man and that I love y–“

“Don’t. A monster is what I am,” he says weakly.

“That’s not true at all, Pero, I know it isn’t.” Tears swell in your eyes now. “Tell me what’s going on, please. Why are you saying these things?”

He’s quiet for a long time. “If I tell you, you’ll want to leave. It’s why you should leave.”

Your heart is in your throat, but you manage to stutter, “I– I won’t leave, I promise. I want to b-be with you Pero.”

“You shouldn’t. I will only cause you harm.”

--------

It took to hear you begging with tears in your eyes to make him finally relent. He had wanted to put off the inevitable, had wanted to keep his secret for a little while longer and not burst the bubble of happiness he had found with you. He knows he cannot keep you here with him, knows you will leave after you find out what he is despite what you may say now. He had just wanted to keep you looking at him with that joy and caring in your eyes he usually finds there instead of the disgust that will soon take over.

At least his companions have the grace to stay at a respectful distance while he’s about to lose yet another person he.. loves. There’s no denying either of those facts.

Pero sits down on the cool stable floor, not bearing to look at you when he speaks.

“I was cursed when I was barely seventeen. I don’t know how many years ago that was anymore. I had joined a mercenary gang not long before that. Everyone in my family had died by the time I was twelve, and I needed to find work. I had helped around here and there in my village, but I wanted more coin than those jobs could get me. So, I trained to fight, spent time with foreign people in foreign places, and I was finally allowed to join this group for good. It is not a noble profession but selling sword could get you work in many places, and I had nothing to lose.”

He takes a deep breath and continues, deciding to let it all out once and for all. Then it would be done.

“My first job with the gang was to assassinate a witch. A foolish idea, even with a group of seven men, but I was young and wanted to prove myself. I should have realized only an idiot would take on that job.”

“As soon as the witch came face to face with us, she started shouting out spells. The rest of the group abandoned the mission in an instant, running away in every direction. I was the only one standing there when the curse hit, frozen on the spot in terror. What a great warrior,” he chuckles self-deprecatingly.

“She cursed me to turn into a beast every night. During the day, I am mostly a normal human, although the curse made me larger than I was before. But at night I am a.. bear. A big one. When I turn, every sundown, I am still aware of who I am inside on some level. But it is harder. I get.. much more violent and rough. Angry and more impulsive. Wilder. It is difficult to remember my human parts in those moments. That is why I fear I might not be able to protect you from myself,” he admits the last part quietly.

Now whispering through a lump in his throat, he continues, ”When I turned the first time, I became very aggressive, and destroyed the whole camp. I could not control my rage against the people who had left me alone with the witch. Maybe I did not even want to. But afterwards, when I returned to my human body when the sun rose, I saw what I had done and fled. I was so ashamed.”

He takes a few deep breaths before continuing. “I found the most isolated place I could and built my cabin here. I did not want to live near people again. I did not want to cause any more fear and destruction. Even in my human form, they all stare at me. It is better to keep myself hidden and far away. I do not believe there is any cure.”

“But it is not all bad,” he says, the faintest smile curling his lips. “I have my companions, who all know what I am but have stayed with me. They know to stay out of my way when I change, and they help me. They provide for me, as I do for them.”

“Did the witch also give you your scar?” you whisper, and Pero startles – he had almost forgotten you were still listening.

He clears his throat. “No. That was not long after it though. One night I came across another bear. A real bear. And he recognized that I was.. different, so he attacked me. Once he realized I was no match for him, he let me flee without any larger injuries.”

“And– and the transformations? W-what is that like?”

“Painful. It’s sometimes exhausting, and I rarely sleep well as a bear. That is why I sleep long in the mornings.”

For the first time since sitting down Pero dares to glance at you. You’re looking at him with wide eyes, tear tracks down your face, but you seem calm. You’re not running away. Yet?

“Oh, Pero, I am so sorry,” you whisper.

He shrugs, not really knowing what to say now that he’s told all of his life story to you.

Suddenly he feels himself blushing, feeling embarrassed. That was a bit much to unload on you, wasn’t it?

“Perdón. I have– I have not spoken to anyone else in.. in years. About that or anything else. I have had to protect myself, and others from me.” He’s quiet again for a moment. “But now you understand why I said you would not want me if you knew what I really am.”

“Says who?” you ask, shuffling forward on your knees to sit in front of him. “I think I should get to decide for myself if I want you or not.”

Pero frowns at you, a little afraid of what you’ll say next.

--------

“I do want to be with you, Pero, nothing could change that,” you promise. “I think the real question is will you let me? Do you want to be with me too?”

“Pero claro que si,” he says gruffly. “But how can you want a man who cannot even share a bed with you?”

“I’m sure we can share it during the daytime, if we so wish,” you chuckle and wink.

Pero flushes again at your teasing, and it’s honestly so endearing you have to really try to contain your giggles, and instead continue hastily, “Besides, now that I know, I can help you out. Help with the work more, so that you can rest longer in the mornings. I will take care of you, like you have taken care of me.”

“Do– are you sure?”

“I love you, Pero. I don’t ever want to leave, if you will let me stay,” you say, reaching to carefully cup his face in your hand.

He presses his own large palm on top of your hand. “I do not want you to go, chula. Never did. I love you.” His words are quiet, but there’s a conviction behind them. “I promise I will keep you safe.”

“I know you will,” you smile.

Pero is openly staring at you with his large eyes that show every emotion – mainly a disbelieving adoration that warms your heart and soul.

You lean in closer to press soft but determined kisses on his forehead, nose, and cheeks, hoping that he will soon get used to you showering him with love. Pero has his eyes closed and his breathing is stunted, like he’s nervous. You are too, and yet somehow it also feels very easy now. When you finally make your way to his mouth, you press only a soft, sweet kiss on his plush lips. The kiss is unhurried and explorative, but also quite clumsy – neither of you have much experience in this matter. That’s alright though, you can take your time and figure it out together.

--------

For the two of you, life continues as normally as it ever is in the secluded cabin, happy and content, taking care of your animal friends and baking and tending the gardens. In time your bear-man even lets you see him as the bear for longer than just a quick flash from a distance, as he learns to be calm in your presence. After some time, on cold winter nights you sleep warm and cuddly with your big bear who is only gentle for you.

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tagsies: @writeforfandoms @starlightmornings @niki-xie @salome-c @littlemisspascal @deadhumourist @thepoisonofgod @leslie-lyman @hopeamarsu @a-reader-and-a-writer

#pero tovar x reader #pero tovar x you #pero tovar fanfiction #pero tovar #the great wall #pero tovar x f!reader

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cloudywriter · 4 years ago

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the lost princess of terrasen

rowaelin month - september 7th

prompt: fairytale au - (an anastasia au in this case)

important: okay y’all so i went way overboard with this entire au and it got out of hand so now this might just be a full-blown thing. however, with that whole releation and me going crazy with outlining and writing i could really only have this much of the story out and ready for today but i plan on continuing it!! hopefully after rowaelin month. enjoy this little introduction :)

(cw: brief descriptions of violence)

masterlist, AO3

~~~

At freshly 18, Celaena Sardothien was free. She’d aged out of the orphanage and was finally released to go live her own life, no longer held down in the outskirts of Rifthold. Celaena didn’t want to wait a second longer, the need to leave the horrid place she’d lived the last ten years was ingrained in her bones.

The woman who ran the orphanage, Clarisse, was cruel. From a young age, she poked at Celaena, commenting constantly on her weight or how she didn’t act like a proper young lady. Her entire life up until this point was spent at the mercy of Clarisse and her stern ways. All the girls in the orphanage were treated as maids and dolls for Clarisse to manipulate. But, Celaena made it, counting down the days until her birthday.

Now, here she was, stuck out in the cold. She’d imagined her freedom to be more alluring than this instead she was shaking as she wandered through side streets that led to the heart of Rifthold. She carried with her a backpack barely full of her meager belongings and the too-thin coat on her back. Clarisse didn’t even spare her a hat to keep out the cold so she moved her hair to shield her freezing ears the best she could and waddled along the snowy pavement.

She still had her kingsflame necklace around her neck, though, and that’s all that mattered. Where she had gotten it from she hadn’t a clue. The first memory she possessed was waking up in the very orphanage that would become her prison. Clarisse explained to her that she’d hit her head and a nice man named Arobynn had brought Celaena to Clarisse to be cared for. Clarisse questioned her about her family and upbringing relentlessly but Celaena could not recall a thing. Her mind was blank. For many nights as a young girl, she’d sit upright in the creaky, lumpy bed she occupied and willed herself to remember. She’d cry and scream, banging her fists into her head in frustration when nothing ever surfaced.

The only connection she had to whatever life she lived before was her kingsflame necklace. And she’d follow that kingsflame to the ends of the continent if it meant she’d one day solve the mystery of her existence.

Which led her to the first stop on her journey of discovery, Terrasen. Once Celaena had accepted that her memories weren’t coming back and this was the life she’d have to lead she adjusted. She served Clarisse and went to the small, dilapidated school down the street with the other orphans. There she discovered her love of books and the meager library the school offered became her sanctuary. It was there while she read a book on the kingdoms on Erilea, hoping something would strike her familiar she learned that kingsflame flowers only bloomed in one place, the capital of Terrasen, Orynth.

As a child that discovery was a revelation. Terrasen. Maybe she was from Terrasen.

As Celaena walked she felt her toes growing increasingly numb, Adarlan’s winters were bitter and she was not equipped with the proper wear. Her teeth chattered but she pushed forward, she needed to get passage to Terrasen.

She drew the map out of the pocket of her coat once again and checked the status of her journey. Only a little longer until she was at Rifthold’s main dock station.

The city of Rifthold was big and Celaena felt out of her depth as groups of people swarmed the streets walking to and from their different destinations. It was overwhelming, the smells, the tall buildings, the weather, the noise, the sheer number of people, everything.

Eventually, she saw the lights of the station and she blew a sigh of relief, she hadn’t been very confident in her ability to read a map. She approached a man sitting in a booth behind a sheet of glass, smoking a cigarette.

Celaena stepped up to the counter.

“Hello, sir, I’d like to buy a ticket to Orynth,” she gave him a smirk, leaning casually on the box. She’d learned from many years of coexisting with Clarisse and a revolving door of people that to make it through life you needed a mask. Celaena had crafted her mask carefully and had perfected her act after so many years. She exuded arrogance and confidence so that another soul would never see the scared, lost little girl she truly was.

The man grunted, blowing a puff of smoke from between his cracked lips. “Do you have your papers, girl?”

Her brain stalled. Papers? She cleared her throat, “papers?”

“Yes,” his scratchy voice replied, “you need papers to cross the border.”

Celaena’s heart sank but she kept her expression neutral. “Well, I-”

“Listen, girl, I’m not going to sit here and waste your time so don’t sit here and waste mine. If you don’t have the right documents then I can’t sell you a ticket, simple as that,” he held the cigarette between his teeth.

She searched for some way to turn this situation around, chewing on her bottom lip.

From the shadows a little ways into the dark alley adjacent to the docks, she heard a hissed whisper. “You, blondie,” an old woman emerged slightly from the shadows, beckoning Celaena forward with her index finger.

Celaena looked around, the man in the booth was already back to ignoring her, his nose stuck in a newspaper so she decided to approach the woman. She didn’t have much to lose and Celaena thought if it went south she could take her.

Celaena crept closer, tightening her grip on the strap of her backpack.

“You need papers?” Her voice was hoarse as if her throat was made of sandpaper. Celaena nodded her head keeping her guard up, watching her surroundings out of her peripheral.

“I know who can get you some,” her face morphed into a slight smile that unsettled Celaena more than anything. Celaena furrowed her brows, “who?” The woman tsked at her, her hot breath forming a cloud in front of her face.

“That kind of information isn’t free, my dear.” Celaena had to resist the urge to roll her eyes, everything came with a price in this world.

Celaena reached around to the side pocket of her backpack, fishing out a few coins she had to spare. She’d saved just enough from doing odd jobs to pay her fare to Terrasen. She deposited the coins into the palm of the old woman’s hand, her knobby fingers running along their smooth edges.

“Go a few streets north and into the red brick warehouse with the large windows, you can’t miss it. Ask for a Mr. Rowan Whitethorn, he’ll get you the papers,” she instructed, hoarding the scant sum of money she was given as though they were priceless heirlooms. Celaena turned her head in the direction the woman directed as if she could spot the warehouse from here and by the time she rounded back the woman had disappeared once again.

Celaena huffed and shot another glance at the ticket man, he was still paying no attention, tapping his cigarette out with his finger. She didn’t necessarily want to go on a wild goose chase to obtain these papers but she had no other way of getting them so she breathed deeply and shoved her hands into her pockets and twisted north.

The woman was right about not being able to miss the warehouse. It was a large, old, imposing structure, clearly, it had not been in use for some time now. Celaena crept closer peering into the foggy windows as she passed the front of the building. She couldn’t see anything and was unconvinced she’d find the elusive ‘Rowan Whitethorn’ inside.

Nonetheless, she approached a rusting metal door on the side and pushed it open with her gloved hand. The door protested but it miraculously opened revealing a wide area stacked high with boxes along the walls and corners.

She ventured further into the space, dust and broken glass crunching beneath her boots. She didn’t see any signs of life besides maybe some rats. As she neared the opposite corner what could’ve been a makeshift sitting area came into view, blocked from view initially by a stack of boxes. She approached noting the circle of crates, a dusty blanket, and a few books piled on the side.

She peered at the title of the book on the top of the stack.

The Royal Family of Terrasen. Mixed emotions surged through her body.

“Who’s in here?” A male voice boomed nearly rattling the windows. Celaena shuttered, letting her bravo fill her bones as she heard a set of footsteps enter the space.

+++

Rowan Whitethorn’s life since the fall of Terrasen and the reign of the Valg had been a hell-hole, to put it bluntly. His family fell out of status, his parents were slain in the ambush on Orynth’s castle, and Rowan was left in an unfamiliar land at twelve years old.

A sect of the Whitethorn house had been visiting Terrasen’s court for the holidays when Maeve made her move against the continent. Doranelle crumpled first to her rule and Terrasen followed, the army of Valg she’d amassed was too large to stand against. Adarlan only survived because King Dorian bowed down to Maeve.

Even now at twenty-two, he has nightmares about that evening. The terror he felt as Valg poured into the ballroom and slaughtered the royals. The terror he saw in the princess of Terrasen’s eyes as she was shoved into the kitchens by her nursemaid where Rowan had happened to take shelter as well. He was scared too, running as soon as his father screamed at him to as the Valg slit his throat. He regretted it deeply, leaving like a coward when the palace was invaded. He regretted the cowering he did in the kitchens as well but when the young princess had burst in the doors, tears flowing freely down her cheeks something had come over him. He had pushed her out into the snow yelling at her to run and she did, scrambling to find her footing.

The rest was a blur, the Vlag hurried into the kitchens soon after but somehow Rowan made it out with his life. The same could not be said for many people in the castle that night.

Now, Rowan lived in Rifthold as a thief and doer of other’s dirty work. He longed for the day he could get out of this city of nightmares crawling with Valg. One day, he promised himself, one day he’d have to funds to make it back to Wendlyn and witness what had become of his home.

There was an opportunity, though, that’d heard about from whispers on the streets. Aedion Ashryver. One of the few survivors from Terrasen’s downfall. He chosen to stay in Terrasen’s territory afterward, the country had no real structured ruling now. The old King-Consort Darrow was the closest thing there was to a king but from what he’d gathered the man is old and weak, not the same after the death of his husband, King Orlon. Terrasen had virtually crumbled.

Somehow, Aedion had built up the Bane and gained standing for himself. A standing he was using to campaign to find his long-lost cousin. How Maeve hadn’t gotten wind of Aedion and his plotting and squashed him, Rowan wasn’t sure. Nevertheless, Aedion was offering a hefty reward for the return of his dear Aelin, the nation’s true queen, convinced she was still alive.

Rowan thought the operation was useless. Her body was never found, that was true, but he imagined she’d likely fled into the Oakwald forest and perished from hypothermia not long after. If he could make a pretty penny from returning the ‘princess’ to Aedion, though, he wasn’t above doing so.

All Rowan needed was a young, blonde, and blue-eyed woman he could convince to join his cause and he could coach her to be the perfect replacement for Aelin. Truthfully, he wasn’t convinced this could ever be achieved but it was something he’d contemplated.

Rowan was making his way back to the warehouse he liked to operate his more shady business out of, the biting cold seeping into his clothes. The looming, muddy red-brick building came into view and he pushed the frosted metal door open. Immediately, he was aware that someone had invaded his space.

Small footsteps had disrupted the layer of dusk along the floor. His hand flew to the dagger strapped to his chest as he prowled further inside.

“Who’s in here?” he called out, gripping the dagger tightly by its handle. Once he got far enough into the space he could see a young woman was standing near his makeshift seats.

The first thing he noticed was she was beautiful. Long, golden blonde hair flowed down her shoulders, her skin was pale and her lips had a blue tint to them. Rowan pushed aside all those unsavory thoughts, she was an intruder after all. However, he couldn’t help but study her, she was dressed far too light for the dead of winter, not even a hat on her head.

She looked right back at him, accessing him as he was her. She didn’t look scared to have been caught trespassing, no, honestly, she looked annoyed as if he was interrupting her.

“Who the hell are you?”

~~~

let me know if y’all like it so far and would like to see more, xoxo

#rowaelin fanfic #aelin x rowan #rowan x aelin #rowaelin #rowan whitethorn #aelin ashryver galathynius #aedion ashryver #throne of glass #throne of glass fanfiction #rowaelin month #rowaelin au #rowaelin fanfiction

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rhysismydaddy · 4 years ago

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Casual Ruin Pt. 1 (Elriel)

Elain’s part of the Damnation Series

Hello, and welcome to an unapologetically kinky, 90% smut / 10% plot mafia fic for Elriel.

Blanket trigger warning for ALL parts (although the first is very vanilla and sweet): this is for adults and contains both sex and violence. If you are not a fan of those two things, or the mild combination of them, scroll along. It contains things that might be triggering. It’s a dark romance.

______________________________________________________

“Wake up, dolce mia.”

The words are a soft, accented whisper pressed against my ear during the darkest part of the night, followed by sinful lips pressing a kiss to my skin that jerks me out of my sleep.

Despite the rush of heat that floods my system, I keep my eyes closed and groan, pushing his face away. My body’s exhausted, and despite wanting nothing more than to wake up and let him make me even more tired, I need sleep.

A rough chuckle escapes him, but he’s apparently inhuman, doesn’t need sleep, and isn’t giving up this easily.

Dodging my weak attempts to push him away, he drags his mouth down the column of my throat, stopping to suck and nibble on parts that are especially interesting.

A soft sigh escapes my lips as he finds the junction between my shoulder and throat, but I still keep my eyes closed.

The cold metal of his chain raises goosebumps as it glints down the valley between my breasts, and his mouth follows, almost like he’s unable to help it.

He’s all over me, scent surrounding me and making it impossible to truly fall back asleep, no matter how tired I am.

He’s put my body through every possible sexual position known to man tonight, somehow pulling every ounce of pleasure from me.

But, like always, I want more.

He’s a drug, more potent than anything on the market, and I’ve come to crave the feel of him against me in the three weeks I’ve known him.

“Wake up, bellisima,” he murmurs, rough voice like a song that ignites a fire in my blood.

I shake my head, and he smiles against me. I regret not opening my eyes a little, because while nothing about him is unattractive, his smile is something I could never get enough of and I hate missing it.

Calloused, scared hands ghost down my body almost reverently, and then he’s kissing a trail across my ribs, over my stomach, and up to my breasts.

His tongue swirls around the peak of one, hand coming to mold the other to his touch, and I use every ounce of willpower to say still.

I’m proud to say I make it a full two minutes before I can’t take anymore and give in. “Fine. I’m awake.”

I say it as if it’s a struggle to be awoken by him and not the best part of my day.

My eyes open to find his, the warm hazel taking my breath away like always.

He gives me a slow smile, coming down to press a kiss to my lips. He tugs on the lower one with his teeth, then smooths the small hurt with his tongue.

I can’t help the small whimper that slips out as his tongue meets mine, because I’m honestly powerless to the way he kisses me.

Slow and deep and perfectly controlled, but also possessive and a little desperate. He’s a selfish kisser; he kisses me exactly how he wants, turning my head just right, nipping my lips when he wants, only breaking when I’m breathless.

A palm goes to my thigh, guiding it around his trim hips, then he’s grinding against me, letting me feel him against me, hard and ready and so tempting my eyes cross.

I resist the urge to arch up into him long enough to tease, “Egoisto bastardo.” Selfish bastard.

“Egoista,” he corrects, smirking.

I roll my eyes, caring less about adjectives and more about the feel of his hands on my hips. I roll my hips slightly, watching as the hazel of his eyes darkens to black.

“Was there a reason you woke me up?” I ask innocently, reaching between us and palming him in a blatant attempt to drive him half as crazy as he does me.

He nods and pushes into my palm. My hand instinctively wraps around him, and I guide him to the apex of my thighs, running the head of him against me in a way that makes us both shudder.

He pushes my head to the side with his chin, then runs his mouth up the column of my throat, stubble making goose bumps rise in his wake. His teeth nip at my skin before he whispers roughly, “I want to fuck you, Elain. I want to feel you around me, hear you call out my name, watch as you come on my cock. So stop teasing me and let me make give us both what we want.”

I don’t respond with words, being completely unable to find them. I just tilt my hips and slip him inside me, watching as the brown in his eyes fades to black.

Jaw tight, he pushes into me fully, causing me to arch up into him. My legs go around his waist, and he hums in satisfaction.

He pulls out the tiniest amount, then thrusts back in harder, pulling a moan from my throat. “You feel so good,” he praises, teeth finding my earlobe and biting down softly. I moan his name, my body on fire for him, and he murmurs, “I love the way you say my name.”

He pulls out all the way, then slams back inside me so hard I feel the reverberations in my hip bones. “But I want to hear you scream it.”

My head rolls back against the mattress, and I can hardly breathe around the feel of him inside me, filling me so perfectly. Somehow I’m still not used to it, not used to how it somehow feels so right.

My breasts bounce as he works me, sensitive nipples brushing against his chest with every thrust. His head raises and his eyes drop, watching.

“Minchia,” he curses, reaching up to palm my one roughly. “Cosi bella.”

If he keeps talking in that husky, deep voice, I won’t last another two minutes. I’m already shaking, but I push the impending release away, desperate to make this last as long as possible.

He moves faster, hands sliding down to my backside to lift me up exactly how he wants. His pelvic bone brushes against my clit every time our hips collide, and it’s almost too much. A low moan escapes me as he kisses my neck, sucking the skin hard enough to leave a mark.

His hands tighten on my ass, and then his palm is connecting with my skin with just the right amount of pressure. I cry out, arms wrapping around his shoulders as I bury my face in his neck.

“You liked that, didn’t you?” he growls, even though it’s obvious I did.

I nod, mouth too preoccupied with kissing his jaw to reply.

Like always, he gives me exactly what I want, using the other hand this time to spank me. The sharp sting pushes me over the edge, and I yell his name yet again as I come.

He doesn’t come with me, just releases my ass to wrap one arm around my shoulders to keep me in place as he takes his own pleasure. His hips are harsh against mine, and I know I’ll be sore tomorrow, but I take everything he gives me and want even more.

My nails rake down his back, and he mutters a curse against my lips as he kisses me. His tongue meets mine, and I can’t stop myself from sucking on it, completely lost in him.

“Fuck, Elain,” he growls, bracing a hand on the headboard I hadn’t realized was so close. His fingers are tight on my shoulder, lips brutal against mine, thrusts so hard I’m practically screaming.

But it isn’t any of that that makes release find me again.

It’s him groaning, “Ti senti cosi bene,” then leaning down to press the rough translation to my ear.

I come apart entirely, and it’s a miracle his lips stifle the helpless noises I make, otherwise I’d wake up my cranky old neighbor. Again.

I tremble beneath him as his movements get a little sloppy, then still entirely.

He kisses my again as he comes, and it’s a rough, almost bruising sort of kiss that makes me want to do it all over again.

He eventually slows to a stop, looking down at me with enough heat in his eyes I melt.

“Fatto per me,” he whispers, running a knuckle over the curve of my cheek.

My sluggish brain works overtime to figure out what he said, eventually finding the translation.

Made for me.

~Three weeks ago~

The opera house is unsurprisingly packed, opening night drawing in over two hundred well-dressed patrons.

I had to pull together three months rent for the ticket alone, a ridiculous expense I’d normally never allow myself, but coming here has been on my bucket list for over nine years, ever since I first heard Cecilia Bartoli on a friend’s radio.

I pinched pennies, picked up extra shifts, and only ate Ramen for the month leading up to my trip here--a real crime, considering my profession--so I could come.

And even though I broke out in a cold sweat from the expense of this night, I have to say it’s already worth it. I have a huge smile on my face as I make my way through the lobby, stopping to look at the program and take in the portraits of the performers.

By the time I go to enter the auditorium, there are only a few people left in the lobby. I want to use the restroom before the show starts, so I hurry up the stairs to the upper floor to look for it.

Except it’s nowhere to be found.

I search down every hallway, the stress of missing the show forcing me to almost jog. A man in a red jacket steps into the hall right when I’m starting to despair, and he turns to me and raises a brow.

“Excuse me... where’s the restroom?” I ask in the most atrociously broken Italian he’s probably ever heard.

His eyes skate over me from head to toe, then he says something back, way too quickly for me to decipher.

I assume he’s asking if I have a ticket, so I hold up the crumpled paper I’ve been guarding for months and smile.

He gives me a strange look, extending an arm and gesturing for me to follow. I nod, and we start off down the corridor, stopping in front of a plain white door.

“This is the restroom?” I ask, not understanding why it isn’t labeled or anything.

He mumbles something I can’t hear, seems to hurry me on, then opens the door and practically shoves me inside.

And straight into a man’s chest.

Which makes this the strangest women’s room I’ve ever ventured into.

He steadies me with two hands on my shoulders, and somehow I know, before I even look, that this man will be devastatingly handsome.

Too curious not to, I look up. And up, and up some more.

And I realize I was both right and wrong, because the man before me is devastatingly handsome, but he’s also so much more, to the point where those words aren’t enough to describe him.

He’s the most beautiful man I’ve ever seen.

It’s a classic sort of look, one that will never go out of style and never be considered anything but perfect.

Hazel eyes rimmed in dark black eyelashes meet mine, narrowed at the edges with amusement. His full, all too kissable lips are turned up in a smirk and surrounded by a day’s worth of stubble I know would scratch at the fingers I’m tempted to run over it.

He’s so tall my neck starts to cramp, but I’m a deer in the headlights, unable to so much as blink.

He’s monochromatically dressed in black, from his suit jacket, shirt, slacks, and polished shoes. We’re still pressed against each other, and the differences between us couldn’t be more obvious.

He’s sin incarnate, the perfect picture of a fallen angel, and I’m the naiive girl dressed in lilac and unable to stop blushing.

His dark hair slips over his forehead as he leans his face further to mine, and for a strange second, I think he’s going to kiss me, but then he takes a step back and regards me with assessing eyes.

“Stai bene?”

The sound of his voice--a cool, deep balm that soothes my nerves--throws me for a second, but even my American self can understand that simple question. I nod.

His lips twitch. “Sei sicuro?” Are you sure?

I nod again.

“Tu parli?” Do you speak?

My eyes narrow a little at the teasing note in his voice. “Si.”

“Cosa stai facendo qui?”

My knowledge of Italian is limited to the Duolingo I’ve been cramming in the last couple of months, so I tell him I don’t understand.

He waves a hand around us, his eyes growing a shade darker as he prowls toward me. He says something in a low voice, the tenor in his voice giving me goosebumps.

“It was an accident! I was looking for the restroom,” I blurt when he takes another step toward me.

He stops. Understanding dawns. A smile breaks lose that threatens my sanity with its beauty.

“You’re American,” he says in surprisingly perfect English.

It isn’t a question, but I answer anyway. “I am.”

“What are you doing here?”

“I’m at the opera,” I state stupidly.

His lips tip upward, and I mentally slap myself for the dumb response. “You are. But what are you doing here?”

Oh. For the first time since I was shoved in here, I take a look around. I’m in one of the dark boxes on the upper floor of the opera house, the ones usually reserved for royalty or billionaires or people willing to spend an entire paycheck. There are two seats, a table in between them, and a perfect view of the stage from the slight balcony.

I gasp when I realize the lights are dim, meaning the show has either started or is about to. “Have I missed anything?”

“No. Now answer the question.”

God, he’s relentless. I sigh and explain, “I was looking for the bathroom, and a very unhelpful attendant pushed me in here instead.”

He tilts his head, eyes narrowed. Like he’s trying to tell if I’m being serious or something. Honestly, who would lie about going to the bathroom?

“Listen, Mr...” I realize I don’t know his name, so I just keep talking. “I don’t know why you think I’d lie and sneak in here, but I’m not, and I didn’t. And I don’t want to miss anything, so I’ll just head down to my regular seat and get out of your hair.”

With one last look at him, I make my way to the door. Only to be stopped by a large hand shooting out and a softly murmured, “Stay.”

I start to deny that knee-weakening request, start to tell him it would be crazy to sit here alone with a stranger. But then a woman steps onto the stage, and everything changes.

“Oh my God, it’s her,” I whisper, practically shoving him out of the way as I hurry over to the balcony.

Cecilia Bartoli’s on the stage, wearing an elaborate gown, dripping with diamonds and confidence, effortlessly belting out lyrics I’m too dazed to even try to understand.

For a moment, I’m so lost in the music I don’t notice when a warm hand lands on my elbow and guides me to the chair behind me. I sink down, eyes still trained on the stage.

I’ve listened to her on my phone or the radio for so long that it’s surreal to hear her live.

I’m breathless by the time the song ends, and it’s when I hear a deep breath I remember I’m not alone. “Sorry. I... I’m a big fan of hers.”

He presses a button on the table I hadn’t noticed and an usher immediately brings in a fresh glass of champagne and a tumblr full of amber liquid. “No apology is necessary. I’ve never met an American fond of Italian opera; it’s refreshing to meet someone with good taste. I’m surprised you don’t speak Italian, though, given your passion.”

“You don’t have to understand what someone’s saying to understand what they’re feeling,” I point out.

He grins like I’ve said the right answer to a difficult question. “True.”

The next song starts, a backup singer effortlessly building he crowd’s energy, and my gaze is torn between the man beside me and the stage. I want to stare at him and listen to him speak in that strangely sexy voice, but I’ve also been looking forward to this show for almost a year.

“I’d like to propose a deal,” he says, surprising me.

My eyebrows quirk at the practiced way he said that, and I debate if this is a good idea. Curiosity wins in the end. “A deal?”

“I leave you alone and stop interrupting your experience, and you agree to have a drink with me after the show’s over.”

I purse my lips to give the appearance of being deep in thought. “I could always just leave and sit in my own seat.”

He nods. “You could. But you won’t.”

“Awfully confident, aren’t you?” He should be.

He smiles, hazel eyes on mine as he takes a slow sip of his drink. For some reason, my stomach ties itself in knots and my thighs press together at the look in his eyes. He smirks like he knows what happened, and says, “You don’t want to leave. In the five minutes you’ve been here, you haven’t stopped blushing. And let’s not forget the spell of speechlessness.”

I blush again, making him chuckle.

Then I murmur, “Fine. Deal.”

He takes my hand in his, shaking once and sealing it in metaphorical stone.

“Enjoy the show.”

Cecilia starts singing again before I can respond, and I become lost once again to the vibrato of her voice.

I don’t like all opera, and I don’t like all opera singers, but there’s something about her that makes you feel every single thing she’s thinking about while singing. It’s the rawest form of art I’ve ever experienced, and it’s impossible to look away while she tells her story.

That doesn’t mean I’m not overly aware of the man next to me.

His eyes are on me the entire time mine are on the stage, acting like I’m more interesting to watch than the show he undoubtedly paid thousands of dollars to see. His gaze burns a hole into the side of my face, but I can’t be bothered to care because I just can’t believe I’m here.

The last song before intermission concludes, leaving the audience in suspense of what happens next, and I find I’m almost breathless as I watch the curtain sweep closed dramatically.

A condition that does the opposite of improve when the man beside me says softly, “You’re beautiful, you know.”

“You’re charming,” I say back, my skin warming like it always does with compliments.

He grins like that’s amusing.

“What’s your name?” he asks, facing me and crossing his long legs. I do the same, leaving less than an inch between our knees.

“Elain.”

“Elain,” he repeats, drawing the syllables out in a way that makes me bite into my lower lip.

“What’s yours?”

He tilts his head, almost in preparation, as he answers, “My name is Azriel Pacino.”

He says it with finality, like he’s a person of importance and is used to being treated accordingly. I mean, it makes sense, considering the private booth we’re sitting in and the instantaneous service the waiter brought our drinks with.

I realize something I’d pushed to the back of my mind. “Why did the man from before bring me in here? He seemed like he was nervous or late or something.”

“He was,” he chuckles. “He was supposed to bring me my companion for the evening, and he was late.”

My jaw snaps shut. “Oh. So... you’re still waiting for her, then?”

At this point, she was very rudely late, but that’s absolutely none of my business.

He tilts his head and smiles, the sight too much for me and causing me to take a long swallow of champagne. “Are you asking if I’m single, Elain?”

My mouth opens and closes a few times to his amusement, but I end up whispering, “Yes.”

“I wouldn’t be sitting here with you if I wasn’t.”

I feel a strange sense of relief, but I don’t have time to read into it before the curtains sweep back open and the lights dim, meaning the show’s about to start.

More singers are with Cecilia now, their voices joining to create a sound so moving, I have to bite my lip to hold back the tears. Which grows harder as the scenes progress, and it becomes obvious this story will end in a tragedy.

By the end, I’m helpless. My eyes are watering, and I have a death grip on the arm of the seat I’ve all but forgotten I’m sitting in. The last song is the one that breaks the dam, and when the performers bow and the lights come back on, my cheeks are damp.

I wipe them with the backs of my hands, then stand and clap so hard my palms hurt.

Taking another large sip of champagne to calm myself, I turn back to Azriel, finding him watching me once again. I normally would feel a little guilty about completely ignoring a man for over an hour, but hey, we have a deal.

“Was it everything you thought it’d be?”

“So much more,” I answer, laughing incredulously. “I’ve wanted to see her perform for years.”

A thoughtful look crosses his face, then he stands with fluid grace I could never hope to have and extends a hand. “Come with me.”

I remember our deal. “To get a drink?”

He shakes his head but offers no other explanation, and even though it might be a bad idea, I accept it.

Azriel pulls me from the booth and leads me down the hallway I ran through earlier, and I notice the people on this floor give him a wide birth, looking at him with round eyes.

Maybe he’s famous here or something.

I shrug it off, deciding to live in the moment as his arm goes around me and his palm lands on my waist.

We come to a stop at an elevator I hadn’t noticed, and once inside, he presses B instead of the button for the lobby.

I’m confused as to why until the door opens and I see a flurry of people bustling back and forth, carrying props and costumes and other important stuff.

My eyes shoot to Azriel’s, but he stays silent, just guiding me from the lift and down a narrow hallway.

He knocks twice on a door, then opens it and tugs me inside.

When I glance around him to see what the surprise is, I almost hit the floor.

Cecilia Bartoli sits on a plush sofa, holding a martini and looking so beautiful and classy I almost start crying all over again.

She looks up at us and raises an eyebrow, and I’m about to... I don’t know, apologize for barging in unannounced or something, when Azriel speaks.

It’s in Italian, so I can’t be sure what he’s saying, but then he tilts his head towards me and says simply, “Elain.”

She gets to her feet and comes toward us, bypassing him to grab my shoulders and kiss my cheeks. “Buona sera, Elain.”

I take a shaky breath, half convinced I passed out and this is all some elaborate dream. “Buona sera.”

“Did you enjoy the show?” she asks in heavily accented English, smiling at me kindly.

“Oh, my goodness, yes. It was the most moving thing I’ve ever seen. I’m a huge fan of yours. I bought my ticket and have looked forward to this for months, and it was perfect,” I babble, not able to shut up in her presence.

“Gazie.” Her eyes shoot to the man beside me, and she asks kindly, “Would you like an autograph, dear?”

My mouth drops open, because I have to be dreaming. “I don’t want to trouble you.”

She waves a hand, grabs a program from tonight off the dressing table nearest us, and signs, “Elain, It was lovely to meet you. Cecilia.”

Then she hands it to me, not possibly knowing how much it means, and says, “Come back anytime.”

I nod overzealously, too stunned by the events that have gone down in the last ten minutes to say anything witty besides, “Thank you so much. It was so wonderful to meet you.”

She kisses my cheeks again, nods to Azriel, then moves back toward the couch. He says something else that has her rolling her eyes, but he pulls me from the room before I can try and decipher it.

As soon as it shuts behind us, I turn and smack his shoulder.

He looks adorably confused, but I’m on an adrenaline high and don’t stop to appreciate the expression.

“I cannot believe you didn’t tell me you know her! Or that that’s where you were taking me! I could’ve... I don’t know, fixed my hair or something!”

Smiling, he smooths a hand over the slightly curled locks resting on my shoulder and shakes his head. “She’s an old friend of mine. It’s why I came. And you look perfect.”

I ignore the tingly sensation that statement gives me. “You’re friends with Cecilia Bartoli.”

I say it as a statement, but it still sounds ridiculous.

He shrugs. Shrugs.

I shake my head in bewilderment, not knowing what else to do, and he chuckles. “Come with me”

I do.

He leads me upstairs and outside, then down the Sicilian streets until we find a beautiful, quiet bar close to where I’m staying. It’s candlelit and romantic and this entire night sounds like a fairytale.

We take one of the many abandoned booths and order, then he leans back, drapes a long arm over the back of the booth, and looks at me like he’s content to do just that all night long.

“Why are you in Sicily?” he finally asks as our drinks are being set in front of us.

I take a sip of wine and respond, “I start at the Culinary Institute on Monday.”

Two days from now, and I could hardly freaking wait.

“You must be a talented chef, then. That’s one of the most prestigious schools in the world.”

“I guess. What about you?” I ask, desperate to talk about him instead of me. “What do you do for a living?”

He pauses, takes a drink. “I’m in security.”

That would explain the fact he could blend in at a boxing match or a board meeting.

“How is your English so good, by the way?”

Another pause, this one longer than the one before. “I lived in Chicago for a while.” I’m about to ask why he moved, or maybe why his expression got darker when I asked him that when he beats me to it. “How long does the program last?”

It’s my turn to pause and stall with a sip. “Just the summer.”

He nods, taking that in stride, even though it feels much more dramatic to me. Of course I’d meet someone handsome and kind and interesting when I’m only in town for three months, two weeks, and six days.

Suddenly, I’m worried he won’t want to continue this date, knowing it’s all but pointless, considering I’m not here permanently.

“Stop thinking what you’re thinking, Elain.”

I look back up to find him studying me, hazel eyes serious. “You don’t know what I’m thinking.”

He reaches over and taps my bottom lip. “I know you’re frowning. And you’re beautiful when you frown, caro, but I much prefer your smile. So stop worrying about it and just enjoy the moment.”

“Okay,” I agree, vowing to do exactly that.

“Okay,” he parrots, taking another sip of his drink and tilting his head. “Why Cecilia Bartoli?”

I take a deep breath and try to think about how to phrase this. “My mom died when I was younger, and I lost my dad when I was fifteen. It hit me hard, and I couldn’t find the will to live, much less smile. And then one day, I was sitting outside the restaurant I was waitressing at, and our chef played a song by her.”

“And it was just... one of those life changing moments I’ll never forget. Her music got me through the hardest part of my life, and I’ve grown to appreciate it even more over the years.”

He smiles sadly. “Thank you for telling me that.”

I shrug, once again a little uncomfortable. “You’re easy to talk to.”

“So are you. I want to get to know you.”

We spend the next to hours talking.

We talk until the place is empty and I’m sure the owner is ruing the day we were born, but I can’t bring myself to stop. His dry commentary makes me laugh, his occasional smile makes my knees weak, and the way he looks at me like I’m the only woman in the world makes my heart pound.

The music is still playing, even though the bartender is nowhere to be found, and since I’ve had pretty much the best night of my life and am just tipsy enough to be bold, I stand and offer my hand.

“Dance with me, please.”

His lips twitch, even as he says, “I don’t dance.”

I frown, and his eyes narrow. “Well, if you want me smiling and happy, I suggest you change your policy.”

He snorts but gives in, sliding from the booth and taking me in his arms gently. One of his palms is cradling mine, the other is on the dip of my spine, and for a moment, we simply sway to the crackly sounds coming from the old stereo.

We dance through the tables, and he turns out to be much better than I expected, twirling me and leading me effortlessly. Or maybe that’s just him.

He’s obviously a born leader, someone who’s always in control, and it’s refreshing to be with someone confident but not overbearing.

My head rests against his chest, and the steady beat of his heart soothes an ache in my soul I never realized I had. “You smell good,” I tell him, very matter-of-factly.

It’s a weird thing to say, but I kind of can’t help it.

He smells like smoke and spices, the combination so addictive it’s all I can think about as we move together.

The hand on my back moves to the back of my head, and it quickly shifts from dancing to being held in his arms. We’re still swaying, but it’s more of a hug, both of us simply enjoying the feeling of the other against us.

His hand glides through my hair, and it feels so good I close my eyes.

I try telling myself I’ve known him a handful of hours, but it’s no good. He’s somehow transitioned from a stranger to someone I’ve known for years, someone I’m comfortable around.

So when he pulls back and mumbles, “I want to kiss you,” against my ear, I let him.

And when he walks me to the townhouse I’m renting, kisses me slowly, and gives me a business card with his number on it, I promise to call.

____________________________

Part 2

@perseusannabeth @cursebreaker29 @a-bit-of-a-cactus @elriel4life @girl-who-reads-the-books @shinya-hiiragi @aelinfeyreeleven945tbln @highqueenofelfhame @ireallyshouldsleeprn @rowaelinismyotp @nahthanks @ghostlyrose2 @lovemollywho @inardour @tillyrubes10 @claralady @tswaney17 @rowanisahunk @superspiritfestival @thegoddessofyou @awesomelena555 @booksofthemoon @greerlunna @jlinez @studyliketate @over300books @justgiu12 @maastrash @aesthetics-11 @bamchickawowow @b00kworm @sleeping-and-books @musicmaam @hizqueen4life @maybekindasortaace @elorcan-trash @emikadreams @swankii-art-teacher @biggestwingspan-az

#elriel #elriel fanfiction #elain archeron #elain x azriel #acotar #acomaf #acofas #acosf #acotar fanfiction #a court of thorns and roses #a court of mist and fury

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comfyswitcherblanketfort · 4 years ago

Text

Mistletoe

@elliestormfound hit me with this delightful ask “hi! I have a prompt for you: what if everyone knows that Geralt and Jaskier are dating except for Geralt and Jaskier because they are idiots? What if it is around christmas and all their friends hang mistletoe everywhere to get them to kiss finally?? sorry, I got too excited :D“ and it was just the thing my brain needed to decompress today apparently? So here’s 1.7k of my stress relief?

Warnings: k-kissing? christmas-ish? banter? swear words? a silent auction for an animal shelter? its in a barn? idk fam i think this one is pretty tame?

__________

“Geralt I can send Lambert in five minutes. You need to go home and shower.” Jaskier’s voice was exasperated over the truck speaker, having already told Geralt three times today that he couldn’t be late for his own fundraiser.

Geralt sighed and switched his blinker, heading away from the large animal pickup call and towards his house, “Have him take Eskel. I think we’ve been called there before.”

“Oh, so you were fine going alone even though you tell everyone else not to? Great. I swear to every god, Geralt. If someone shoots you over taking their animal away I will revive you only to kill you slowly with my bare hands.”

“Jask, I’m fine-”

“Yes. I know,” Jaskier lowered his voice and Geralt could picture him waving his hands and tilting his head this way and that like he always did when he mocked him, “I’m Geralt. I’m big and scary and love animals so much I’ll throw myself into dangerous situations without thought because I’m a selfish and impulsive cock.”

“Ok-AY. I see your point. I’m on my way home.”

“Good. Wear the green shirt so you don’t blend into the backdrop.”

Four hours and an obligatory ‘thank you for coming, please give us money, look at all these cute animals’ speech, Geralt was finally free to have a drink and relax. Well, mostly. He still had to be professional and courteous, but Jaskier did all the schmoozing on the part of the shelter. The majority of his time at these events was spent following Jaskier around like a lost puppy. Geralt did what he needed to, told stories when asked and supplied the facts when Jaskier went a little heavy on the emotional pleas, but he took a backseat for anything that included other people. They made a great team and Geralt tried not to think about it. No point in dwelling on what you can’t have, right?

Geralt did think about how many drink tickets Lambert had been handing out as he noticed more and more couples kissing. Come to think of it, he was quite sure Melissa and Adam had divorced last year…

He kept noticing it as Jaskier led him around the silent auction tables and nearly lost his ‘easy going host’ mask when someone shuffled up and planted a wet one on the person he was talking to.

Jaskier rolled his eyes and pointed up at his chin, making Geralt frown and rub at his own, thinking he’d missed a spot shaving. Jaskier bit his lip in a failed attempt to hide a smile and looked where he was pointing. Geralt followed, and to his horror, most of the ceiling in the barn had little bundles of mistletoe hanging.

There was one at every doorway, three by the food, a few over auction tables, one over every stall door, one on every support beam over the breezeway, and worst of all, one right over the table Geralt and the team were seated at.

“Ah! Geralt, I forgot to have you sign something before you left the office.” Jaskier clapped him on the shoulder and jarred him out of his thousand yard stare as he led him away, “Excuse us.”

“The fuck is with all the mistletoe?” Geralt practically sputtered as they crunched their way across the frozen driveway, picking up the pace to get into the heated office as quick as possible.

Jaskier shrugged, “Bert probably just wanted to up his chances of getting laid.”

Geralt set his drink down on the reception counter and plopped down in Jaskier’s chair, “Sounds like him. What did you have for me to sign?”

“Hm?” Jaskier leaned against the desk facing Geralt, eyeing his fingers drumming on the mouse pad Geralt had given him for the secret santa last year. Geralt did it every time he came into the office for more than five minutes. He’d steal Jask’s seat and tap at it, or lean over his shoulder as he was typing away and rap it with his knuckles when he left. It wasn’t extravagant by any means, it was just a picture of Geralt, Ciri, and Jaskier mimicking Roach ‘smiling’ in the background with her top lip folded back over her nostrils. But it was the closest Geralt ever came to telling Jaskier how he felt, settling instead for a shy ‘Ciri thought it was cute’ and an awkward hug.

“You said I needed to sign something?”

Jaskier blinked a few times and refocused on Geralt, “Oh, no. You just looked like you needed a minute.”

Geralt slumped down farther into the chair, “Thank you.”

Jaskier fiddled with the shiny buttons on his blazer, talking a little too fast to be entirely comfortable, “Oh this is completely self serving. You’re difficult to handle when you get ‘out-peopled’.”

“So you’re my handler now?” Geralt griped, a bit of sarcasm sneaking out with his words.

“Something like that,” Jaskier huffed, glancing up at Geralt through the hair falling in his eyes.

Geralt’s breath caught in his throat and he was suddenly more nervous than he’d been before his speech. He slapped his thighs and heaved a dramatic sigh before standing up, “We should probably get back.”

Jaskier looked up at him, a few inches lower than he usually stood while he sat against the desk. Geralt caught his eyes flickering up and his jaw clench as he tried to pretend he’d seen nothing. Following his gaze he froze.

A massive bunch of mistletoe was hung right above their heads, truly it was a miracle they’d missed it before.

Jaskier set his drink down next to him on the desk and whispered, “There’s no one else here…”

Geralt looked down at him, tilting his head and furrowing his brows as he tried to figure out what that had anything to do with….

His heartbeat picked up as he caught on to Jaskier’s subtle suggestion, “Totally alone,” he breathed.

His agreement hung in the air much like the mistletoe above their heads, taunting and almost permission giving, but not quite enough.

After making eye contact for far too long to be considered professional or friendly, Jaskier pushed off of the desk and for once, Geralt didn’t step back to give him space. They could rock forward onto their toes and their noses would touch and Geralt’s heart was absolutely racing, leaving his brain somewhere in the dust.

“You’re going to make me ask, aren’t you?” Jaskier’s breath tickled at Geralt’s throat, not close enough to be warm, but it gave him goose flesh all the same.

“Ask what?”

“Can I kiss you?”

Geralt let out a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding, a hesitant but relieved smile spreading on his face as he nodded. Jaskier licked his lips and rested a hand on Geralt’s cheek and the other on his waist. Geralt thought he felt him shaking a bit but soon forgot all about it as he rested his own hands on Jaskier’s hips and the moment felt real. He swallowed his nerves down and leaned in just a fraction of an inch, letting Jaskier guide their lips together with the hand at his jaw. His eyes fluttered closed when he felt Jaskier’s hot breath on his lips and he was praying he wouldn’t faint before their lips even touched.

But when they finally did, it was heaven.

Just a gentle press of skin to skin at first, careful and sweet, and the butterflies wreaking havoc on Geralt’s stomach rose to his chest. Gods, it was unreal the way such a simple kiss could undo him like this but here he was, so overwhelmed that if he didn’t do something with his hands he might cry. He slid one hand to the small of Jaskier’s back and pulled him flush to his body, pressing forward with his lips and searching for more of whatever that drug making him feel so light and warm was. Jaskier mirrored him, wrapping his arm farther around his waist and moving his other hand to the nape of his neck to pull him closer still. Geralt let his tongue dart out across Jaskier’s lips and chuckled in surprise when Jaskier countered with enthusiasm, taking over immediately.

As he pulled away, Jaskier ran the tip of his tongue over the roof of Geralt’s mouth making him let out a shaky breath and shudder.

Geralt’s eyes snapped open and he pressed his tongue to the spot, wrinkling his nose before laughing softly, “That tickled.”

“Mhm,” Jaskier nodded and smiled, brushing his thumb over Geralt’s cheek as he searched his eyes.

“Can we do that again?” Geralt breathed, moving a hand from Jaskier’s hip to between his shoulder blades.

Whatever he found in his inspection, Jaskier seemed satisfied, if not elated, “Hell yes.”

Moments later, while their lips were most pleasantly locked together, Lambert and Yennefer burst through the door yelling.

“Fucking finally!” and “No! They didn’t say it! I didn’t lose! I don’t owe you shit!”

Jaskier jumped and made to step away, but Geralt kept him close, pulling him to his side but away from the door.

Yen grinned at them and held out a palm to Lambert, “Pay up, bitch. They’re positively head over heels.”

“What the hell guys?” Geralt snapped, more than a little on edge and embarrassed.

Lambert grumbled as he pulled his money clip out of his slacks, “This witch slipped you a love potion and swindled me out of a nice bottle of gin.”

Yennefer preened and plucked the money out of his hand, “No such thing as magic, dear,” she cooed and tucked the money in her bra before addressing Geralt and Jaskier, “It’s almost time to call the auction and people are starting to notice you’re gone.”

Jaskier smoothed Geralt’s hair back over his shoulder, “We can talk about it later, yeah?” His voice was soft and soothing, tempering Geralt’s usual reaction to Yen bossing him around to a mild eye roll.

He looked down at Jaskier and kissed his forehead before grabbing his hand and heading for the door, “I’d love to.”

They talked about it over pumpkin pie at Jaskier’s place after the event. Well… talked might not be the right word…

#i am so sleep deprived but my brain said no sleep till geraskier so #do i need all the beginning exposition? prolly not #does it bring me joy thinking about Jaskier being the aggressive mother hen secretary/switchboard operator for the bois? yes.#geraskier #geraskier fic #geraskier christmas #geraskier first kiss #geraskier mistletoe #geraskier modern au #geralt runs an animal shelter #animal rescue geralt #its a vibe #thanks goob squad for the idea #it shall live rent free in my head forevermore #jaskier #geralt of rivia #the witcher #the witcher fic #the witcher christmas

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batarangsoundsdumb · 4 years ago

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hae interrogationes multae respondeant quia demens .

if you read this entire ask post you deserve a gold star and financial recompensation

Um, Obviously because when you’re adopted by a white guy you automatically become white duhhh

this is about this post lmao and yeah youre absolutely right, you have to hand your poc card in when you get adopted by a white guy.

Do you think Cass would listen to Yanni, the YouTube channel epic symphonic rock, or some other stuff? There's some cool mashups but idk if that's up your alley, I kinda feel like I'm pushing it with my weird taste of music by recommending an orchestra cover of metal, but i just love that sort of thing and mashups :P @harvestyourcherries

i haven’t heard of that? but in my personal (correct) opinion steph listens to classical music, and then both modern and older, and then also stuff like black sabbath, iron maiden, but also hardrock and hardcore. i like the idea of cass just liking the most extreme screaming songs full of noise and then also listen to pachelbel’s 370th sonata yanno? THANK YOU for the rec tho

speaking of ur cass playlist hc...reminds of the time (yesterday) i found 2 playlists randomly on spotify from the same user. one was abt 3 hours of instrumental/classical "dark" & "nostalgic" music. the other almost 11 hours of nothing but hardcore bass/synth/electronic music. just an incredible tightrope act to put on in public. the synth one was also called like "psalms for synth sluts" which is Also incredible

tbh i LOVE synth SO MUCH like for no reason at all but then also cannot handle a poppy electronic beat lmao. but this seems like the kinda thing i’d do but just in one (1) playlist bc i just sort songs by vibe instead of genre? that’s how i end up with britney spears and billy ray cyrus in the same playlist.

Oh, I want Kate Kane playlist next! It would be amazing if you could do one when you have time and will 🙏

how rude would it be of me to just say no? like sorry kate but idk you and also you seem way too keen on the us military for an institution that homophobically targeted you? (and also commits war crimes) but let’s unpack the fact that the institution that caused the death of your mom and sister and also got you blacklisted for being gay is still one you align with???

'yes i am' 'no you're not' 'yes i am' 'no you're not' 'yes i am' 'no you're not' 'yes i am' 'no you're not' 'yes i am' 'no you're not' 'yes i am' 'no you're not' --- when i tell you i fucking screamed LOL!!!!!!! i can imagine the cameraman not knowing if he should cut to commercial or keep it on these two weirdos fighting on stage (bruce definitely ruffled dick's hair/noogied him right??

about this post but yeah lmao. this cameraman just turns to like the audience to get a reaction and it’s just multiple moments of CLEAR shock.

you are the only funny person on this hellsite

how egotistical is it for me to say that i get this ask multiple times a month? bc it literally happens so often it’s hilarious to me.

Wish there was more john/Bruce content 😔😔😔 was so hungry I actually looked at canon media 😔😔😔 (Justice League Dark babeeeyyyyyy)

check out batman: damned for some mediocre content but at least it’s john/bruce (also very interesting story and stuff, just got very >:( over this weird part where harley quinn tried to r*pe bruce or something? it’s not for everyone)

dick grayson but he's nicki minaj

his anaconda don’t want none,,, unless......

Dick Grayson was never a cop, he played Marshall on Paw Patrol

you are SO right. also paw patrol is a fucking good show idc. that shit could’ve been the new steven universe on this hellsite.

https://www.instagram.com/p/CS1lI0bLI7-/?utm_medium=copy_link

...

why do people keep reposting my CONTENT. if you are not funny yourself don’t just grab shit off of tumblr and post it on insta,,, get a life. sidenote: should i start an insta and get all these ppl to take my content down that would be funny as hell.

Might I suggest for a Gotham City Meme: something about the true crime fandom thirsting for the rogues gallery

ok can i just say something slightly controversial?? no? i don’t find true crime ppl who are into criminals funny, that shits disturbing irl im not gonna bring that into my very chill universe.

i may have never seen a 'jason cleaning guns in sink' fic but i do know he WOULD

THANK YOU

bestie im sorry to say this to you but while you can, and people do wash their guns in the sink, that is a lot of lead in a very vital part of the kitchen.

people tend to do it in the bathtub.

WHY???? like damn why do you even have guns

i dont think i read many gun sink fics exactly but i have read lots of fics where jason cleanes his guns in the living room. usualy dissembles them and cleans them with a rag i think

lmao fair enough, like i think that’s a large part of what i remember as well.

if you say you've seen/read gun sink fics I believe you. I think those of us who didn't see them are lucky or maybe didn't search for fics by tags or something idk

i mean ive never sought them out but i HAVE seen them,, like definitely i know almost for certain.

saw your tags and I'm interested in Steph/Kara now. They would be the most chaotic couple <3

literally thoooo, i have a wip where they get together in a zombie apocalypse and like UGGGHhhh i am so in love with them.

I am the Breece anon. Thanks for the recommendation; am reading now. I’ve always been a hardcore Superman fan because I love my pure himbo farm boy. My logic is, if one Bruce is a Broose, then multiple Broose are a herd of Breece. And this is a hill upon which I will perish.

fair enough,,,, like moose, meese, goose, geese, bruce, breece. i get your logic and i stand by it as well. (glad you enjoyed the comic recs!!!!)

It's a beautiful day in Gotham, and you are a group of horrible Breece

OH my god dude lmao

there only being 42 fics on ao3 for tim and bernard is honestly so sad i need more

it’s like twice that now!!! we did it lads. (tho very sad that my fic isnt number one but like number 4 :(((( )

i'm too late you already did the poll lol but may i suggest bethy (bernard + timothy)

shit dude that wouldve been so fucking funnyyyyy. think ppl have just stuck to timber tho, tim/bernard kinda died down recently and i think it’s too bad, they’re a great couple and i love them.

Wait, hear me out

Bernothy @redlightofdawn

great recommendation (lmao this ask is from like a month ago) but very sorry to announce that NARDTH is the superior shipname

Wait, we know that bernard likes milfs (Tim's step-mom) but what about dilfs? gilfs?

Wait no, I regret sending that ask

these were two seperate asks and they’re HILARIOUS. in my personal opinion tho,,, milfs, gilfs, dilfs are just about vibes and bernard is just attracted to sexy ppl who may sometimes be milfs, dilfs, or EVEN gilfs.

crime in bludhaven would drop to half if nightwing had a boob window. in this essay i will-

WHERE’S THE ESSAY ANON, WHERE’S THE FUCKING ESSAY

Wait if Barbra and Tim r at opposite ends at all times what happened to Barbra once everyone’s Tim’s ever love before started dying lol

she won a lottery ticket and spent 2 weeks on a resort in the bahamas before returning home and finding out that the joker was arrested for tax evasion and then spent a month staying at her big tiddie goth girlfriend’s house before conner came back to life and she broke her pinkie playing table hockey.

Why is the opposite end thing so funny and compelling to me. Tim comes back from his depression quest for Bruce and Babs is now a literal god

lmao when tim loses his spleen barbara reaches nirvana.

Are you still taking music recs because I have three songs that remind me of Jason that I think you'd like

send to me or lose a toe

🌸 ⭐ put this star into the inbox of your favorite blogs. it’s time to spread positivity! ⭐🌸😋

thanks, i wont tho on account of i wont.

https://vm.tiktok.com/ZMduBy3Sr/

⬆️

This is the whole of Blüdhaven and everyone anywhere.

Nightwings ass alone saves more people in a calendar year and does more for so society than most heroes do their whole career.Also u are one of the funniest tumblr pages out there. The vibes are unmatched and the memes and tags ✨send me✨.Thank u and goodnight @julia-flow

fanksss also lmao.

That's going to be a little bit difficult to explain, but

There's some music that you listen to and you think, "oh my gosh, I can perfectly imagine Dick Grayson singing this song, with the same voice as the singer because that voice matches with Dick Grayson"?

oh yeah totally lmao. i have a lot of songs that i think are just entirely dick grayson yanno? kind of all of my playlists have that vibe, but i really find bleachers to fit with dick? idk.

"Lois lane/Superman" fics this, "Lois lane/Clark Kent" fics that, (/lh) let's get into the real good stuff. Some people ship Lois, Clark, and Superman as a throuple. Most popular fic tag for sure

yes totally, i think they’d be absolutely killer on ao3 and clark gets so fucking embarassed about it.

I miss your post, hope you’re doing okay!!

haha this was like 2 months ago, but i was doing fine then too! just didn’t have a lot of inspiration in terms of content.

Doot doot!

noot noot

I’m confused. What did DC do now? Like with nightwing? And another sibling? Please spoil everything for me

lmao they gave him a secret sister plotline where they had his dad cheat on his mom with tony zucco’s wife, bc dick’s life wasn’t traumatic enough yet.

sorry but it's so funny that batman is called "the dark knight" when the gotham city baseball team is called the gotham knights. it'd be like if a vigilante was running around new york called like "the scary yankee"

lmaooo no. but like yankee comes from dutch names or something so wouldnt it be HILARIOUS if gotham knights came from like german names and bruce would be running around called the dark KLAUS UND NIEK @graysonnightwing

(not a batcest shipper) it’s so funny to me that the responses are “i’m a batcest shipper because i can differentiate fiction from reality and and it doesn’t bother me personally, but i understand why you oils think it’s weird” to “i wish all batcest shippers a very fucking die”

yeah lmaoo. i personally basically flipped my entire stance around to ‘i dont care please leave me and everybody else alone’ bc i think there’s really no point in starting a moral dillema over some fucking fandom bullshit. Please just,,, go home,,, log off, find a nice forest to have a little walk in and remember that somewhere in history, somebody probably died in the place you’re standing. and you will also die someday, and somebody will have to look at your internet usage and see you fighting multiple people anonymously while being named ‘nightwingsbuttchin200186′ like... calm down, we’re all gonna die this is not the thing to worry about.

so since like "wards" don't really exist in modern society almost all the batkids are foster kids, right? i used to work in the system and imagine: monthly visits from social workers and guardian ad litems, bruce having to get permission to take the boys anywhere out of state, calling their social worker at like 8 a.m. like "yeah dick broke his arm again... a gymnastics accident this time...." their poor social worker. bruce send her a huge bouquet and box of chocolates every month to stay on her good side

i imagine the social worker just getting into the case like ‘yeah let’s get this kid a good guardian’ and then ending up having to work with 22 y/o bruce wayne and his 50 y/o dad. and so this social worker is like ‘okay we can work with this, this is the best home i can find’ and then like it ends up landing on its feet and then the kid gets adopted and then they get a call a year later like ‘uhm so hi, this kid tried to steal my tyres can i adopt him?’ and like 3 years later. ‘okay so basically, my neighbours’ kid imprinted on me and now they’re dead, can i keep him?’ two years later it’s like ‘okay so this assassin child-’

ever since I saw that one post of yours, the meme that's something like "I know that abba's backup dancer got me" with a picture of discowing, I've been haunted. Every once in a while I'll be minding my own business then the image of abba's backup dancer dick grayson aka nightwing aka discowing will flash in my mind and I'll be frozen in place. Today at work I was in the middle of folding clothes and suddenly once again discowing entered my mind and I suddenly lost the ability to see anything except He. Thank you.

wow. the IMPACT.

Braver than any US marine man props to you🤝

this shit is about the time i wrote an article on batcest, like man,,, the fact that i didn’t get cancelled is MIRACULOUS. also like,,, uh if anybody on here did gossip on me,, send screenshots i’d love to see it.

Hello, just wanted to say your article was great. Thank you for taking the time to provide an unbaised answer. It should provide people with nuances they couldn't possibly conjure on their own.

May I ask where your username originates from?

yes you may (also thanks!!!) i thought it up when i was trying to find an original username bc i didnt want to be called like ‘timdrakes something something’ or ‘jason todd something smoething’ or ‘dick grayson something something’ yanno? so i thought batarangs, they sound so dumb and that’s my username story... now it’s my whole entire brand lmao.

yno that bit in kick ass where red mist asks kick ass if he wants a hit of his blunt, was that the inspo for stoner tim

no? it’s bc i think stoners are hilarious and drugs are great. (dont do drugs tho)

How would u feel if someone actually wore one of those bruce or ollie pride shirts u edited

fenomenal next question.

Dick as lil huddy and Jason as James gave me radiation poisoning and now I’m screaming crying throwing up so thx for that

(Rico suave as Tim is perfect tho literally no changes needed)

i was so funny for that shit wasn’t i??? lmao i loved those weird ass fancasts

You're doing the Lord's work by providing us with all these Gotham/Metropolis citizens memes, thank you for being so relentlessly funny @nellethiel-aranel

you’re welcome!! i really enjoy making memes, but getting validation for my content and my memes is REALLY nice.

Bruce is such a slut in your memes and honestly i love that for him @rhodey-rhudert-rhodes-main

he’s that much of a slut irl too dw.

Bruce and Alfred have an emergency pride flag for the batkids. Oliver Queen printed an emergency "I love my gay son" t-shirt and as soon as Roy told him he was dating Jason, Oliver started wearing that shirt everyday and Roy always cringes when he sees it. Oliver also has an emergency "I love my lesbian daughter" shirt just in case for Cissie.

lmao YES i had a post like this bc like all of their kids/family members are so gayy

stop bringing back batfam fancasts it is not real it is not real it is not- 😀😀😀😀😀😀😀😀😀😀😀😀😀

oh yes it is my darling.

did discowing burn down the notredam because he hates the bees? @allulily

no he did it bc fuck the french.

im gonna beg for 1 thing and 1 thing only. please please please put physical by olivia newton john on dick's playlist

okay then beg. bc i wont. physical reminds me too much of glee and that hurts me mentally.

your playlist is sorely missing some Madonna. Specifically Into the Groove, Like a Prayer, and Vogue

i’m scared of madonna that’s why she’s not on there. she haunts me in my dreams.

suggestion: son of batman by aaron dews for dick’s playlist🤩

sorry, i listened to it and the vibe didn’t agree with me.

Hear me out, metropolis citizens sending rare pair fics of Clark Kent x Superman fics to Lois to edit

yes, absolutely hilarious. even more funny if they send like physical copies, no address attached and lois sends it back marked with red ink, SOMEHOW

Imagine all the smut Clark must of read editing the fics

clark reads smut confirmeeed

NOT LOIS READING SUPERBAT PORN AND EDITING IT A 2AM

NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

hc that alfred is a meta that boosts healing factor of the people around him. if the bats are injured as much as they seem to be they would be doing bat stuff MAYBE half the year. no one including alfred knows about this. whenever the kids move out they inexplicably dont recover from injuries as fast and feel better whenever they visit the manor they just chalk it up to homesickness. bruce just thinks he heals really fast. alfred thinks everyone doesnt take care of themselves properly @finchcollector

that’s actually such a great idea, but i think that alfred would find out and learn how to concentrate it better so he can help more people, bc he’s great and i love him.

One of your dickfast posts reminded me of that tweet that goes: 'so you've had sex how many times? Yeah technically that's not a bromance' lol that's dickwally or dickroy

literally tho. like that’s all of dick’s friendships. once it gets past a certain time dick is like ‘wow i wonder what it would be like to make out with wally, wally come make out with me’ and wally’s like ‘we’ve done this like 40 times, dick, you know what it’s like’ and dick is like ‘sorry are you complaining?’ and they just make out.

superfam and batfam associations??

-batman and superman

-dick/barabara and supergirl?

-conner and tim

-jon and damian

pls enlighten me I am confused

nope,,, uhm batman and superman, but dick and superman as well, and then conner and tim, jon and damian and steph + babs with supergirl

I came across a fic in which Wonder Woman calls Batman "Stella" (like Stellaluna, the children's book) and I can imagine the batkids hop on the trend and maybe copies of the book appear at random places (aka, everywhere Bruce frequents)

sorry can’t reciprocate that was the name of my high school chemistry teacher and it gives me nightmares to think about.

good human what are your pronouns?

wouldn’t you like to know?

I need me some gothamites preferring harley over joker memes

everyone prefers harley over joker youre just very fucked up if you dont

don't understand why people try to add like veteran policy to the batfamily

dick pulling out his veteran batfam member card so he can eat first: step aside, peasants

Do you know the song Simmer by Haley Williams? It (the first verse anyways) reminds me of Jason? It's about rage.

damn yeah i LOVE HAYLEY!!!! youre right thoo

Okay so I like listen to your stoner Tim Drake playlist 24/7 but would he listen to skegss? Also I keep adding songs mentally it’s killing me 😩✋🏼 Anyways,, I literally love and worship your playlist 😃🤞🏼 And uh yeah have a good day ✨

stoner tim drake playlist is lyfeeee. also dont know who skeggs is? i’m stupid? have a good day!!

All the Robins (and Batgirl) decide to trade costumes for one night just to fuck with Batman and all the villains in Gotham. @subspacecadet

batman knows it’s them youknow but like,,, what does he call them? he’s like ‘red hood?’ and 3 people answer and he’s not about to compromise some identities so he’s just Pissed.

I aspire to treat cops the way my dad treats them. This man is a 45 year old Asian immigrant to the US and the treats them like his pets. He talks about them like unruly children. Sometimes he pays off local cops to shut up and stop acting racist. And usually it works. I don’t know why but I can see Oliver Queen doing this

vibes... and also yes? oliver queen handing a local cop a donut to shut the fuck up lmao. but yanno i commit enough crimes to not really want to ever see a cop ever, so they kinda scare the everloving fuck out of me.

seeing as tim hasn't aged in years, that means he was 17 at peak emo tumblr era. im back on my emo tim bullshit and im not letting it go

emo tim had a wattpad account send tweet

People seem to think that batman is so dark and serious when the rainbow batsuit is right there. He wore it with no shame.

dude the 60s were a DIFFERENT TIME

dick grew up in a circus, jason grew up on the streets, and tim was probably raised by the internet

all of them cuss every other word and you cannot tell me otherwise

bitch i KNOW but dc has to change to an 18+ rating if they want to sell comix with swear words in them so we gotta deal with imagining the swear words in ourselves

thoughts on teen titans and young justice

haven’t seen teen titans on account of havent seen it and young justice was LITERALLY my favourite thing ever, tho i do gotta admit it’s not at all similar to the young justice comics unfortunately. i really wouldve liked to see timmy bart kon cassie and cissie animated on tv!!

ew ew ew how to delete batcest shippers I genuinely digust them

log off tumblr?

Okay as poc who was called racist for calling an Italian pastabrain: in the batfam are Italians bit Damian just yells various insults about the others being Italian. Just him yelling “What are you doing you moronic spaghettihead!” At steph etc

huh? i meant real italians. homeboy is telling steph he hopes she chokes on her fucking garlic.

I think it's dumb as hell to pull the batman is the best fighter in the batfam argument because like it's just irresponsible of Bruce to let his kids fight when they couldn't possibly be on his league or something

fair enough, but also like who cares they could all kill you just sit down and take a beating.

lady shiva, thalia al ghul and Selina Kyle are all milfs @notanothertimburtonenthusiastugh

unfortunately, i have to admit,,, you’re right

why tf didn't someone give joker a death sentence already? like he's a mass murderer...give him the electric chair treatment wtf

idk i think plenty of people would have tried to murder him already (boring answer is: he is a popular character so they can’t kill him off bc he brings in lots of money)

There’s no such thing as “ copaganda”.

all american media is propaganda. happy to clear this up for you

is it bad that I find lady shiva owa owa

no. find her as owa owa as you want.

aight I'm guessing the order of your favs in batfam:

1. tim

2. Steph

3. dick

4. Duke

5. the rest

you’re wrong but it’s cute that you tried, i generally don’t have favourites, but i have a special place in my heart for steph, tim, dick and cass. bc they were like my introduction to batfam. but damian, jason, duke, bruce, babs and alfred are NOT FORGOTTEN OR UNLOVED

oh my god i was literally just readily willing to believe that italians werent white ty for clarifying it was a joke im so dumb sdkvjskdfs

i mean some italians aren’t white? italian is a nationality as well as an ethnicity, so like ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

since I saw so many people doing headcanons about the nationalities of batboys, I see Dick as an Italian.

dont know if youre serious or not, but sure.

super random but

jason 🤝 damian

old english

lmao fair enough.

tim absolutely has 1 gay uncle and his parents shit talk said uncle all the time so after bruce adopts him he specifically reaches out to this uncle to be like "heyyyy just so you know you majorly influenced my life yes i know i havent seen you since i was 5 and at the family reunion yes i know you dont remember my name idc thank you im gay too" and then they never talk again.

yuppp lmao that’s definitely something that could happen. i can also consider tim having no family members, like none. until he does like a dna test and he realises he has like an aunt living barely 2 miles away from him who’s like some illegitimate child of his grandpa.

I dare you one of them sends clark superman/clark fic and clark corrects the shit out of it and then goes like ps his dick is not that big, just telling as someone who has seen it. internet either explodes or goes who tf did he not fuck at this point.

i think everybody would call clark a buzzkill and try to cancel him over that.

so you're telling me Tim Drake wouldn't buy Starbucks?

no. dunkin donuts all the way

One of my favorite things is imagining people finding out jason came back from the dead and being like "oh no does he have magic powers now?!?!?" and he just pulls out a gun and tries to shoot joker

now he doesn’t even have the gun :) lmao

my favorite batfamily fanfictions are the ones where they use their shitty codenames, unironically, in any context

bruce gets codename ‘ugh’ everytime. he hates it.

crazy that tim being a 17 y/o ceo and a stoner who does brand deals are all actual canon things written in detective comics comics and not made up for shits and giggles by you, tumblr user batarangsoundsdumb @rowdeyclown

SO CRAZY HUH?

batman au where everything is the same but his utility belt is bright pink

absolutely, but i raise you, his boots light up like sketchers when he kicks people.

unbeknownst to the superhero fandom writers in the dcuniverse, clark and BRUCE are one of the most prolific fanfic writers in the superhero rpf tag on ao3. clark writes the best lois x superman angst, full of unhappy endings and scenes that are a so detailed you'd think you were in the middle of a superhero beatdown. bruce made an ao3 account to fuel "the do the butts match" thing, and makes batman/bruce fics from time to time. he wrote a superbat fic as a joke but ended up making it REAL porny. @concrastinator

dude they’re WAY too busy for that. Oliver Queen and Hal Jordan on the other hand are the most prolific fanfic writers in the superhero rpf tag writing what is Mostly porn.

When the dining table topic gets to politics, Steph says "eat the rich" as the solution

bruce just silently takes away her fork and knife while she’s talking.

#literally if you got through this i just respect you #this is mainly just for the people who sent me an ask in the past few mask #i hope your ask is in here :)#sorry for everybody else #ask #bataranswers #this took me 4 hours to do so i hope youre happy #also sidenote #does anybody know the latin translation for 'to become'#bc i just used future of 'esse' but it could be a different verb #who cares tho latin is a dead language #big congratulations to everyone who translates my sentence #here's a bonus sentence: tuam matrem futueram

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wordsfromthesol · 4 years ago

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Avengers or Justice League (2/2)

Author: @wordsfromthesol Taglist: @zphilophobiaz @malfoys-demigod @pricetagofficial @anousiemay Pairing: Jason Todd x Reader Word Count: 1.2k

Part One

You woke up several hours later, still in the passenger seat. It had definitely been longer than 2 hours. How were you not in New York yet…Before you could ask, Jason spoke up.

"So…welcome back. It's been a while. A lot has changed."

"I can see that. What happened?"

"Well I met the spider thing. Very helpful, definitely a child. But he said Bats was about 3 hours north of here. In a small town called Croatoa."

"Seriously?"

"I couldn't believe it either. Couldn't even find it on a map…but the kid gave me directions. Should be there in…now." Jason commented as he turned onto a dirt road. You had a feeling this wasn't going to end well.

You had been in this weird town for a few hours. All you had done was sit on the roof of the hotel and listen. The conversations…something was just off. You couldn't put your finger on exactly what. You were so zoned out that you didn't even hear Jason come up behind you.

"Something is off here. Right?" His voice broke your trance.

"Definitely." You nodded, reassuring him that he wasn't crazy.

"There's no crime here. At all. In the last 10 years. Not even a speeding ticket."

"Well the town is all dirt roads…" The comment was meant to put your minds at rest. It didn't. "Should we even be staying here? Crime does tend to follow us." Jason's bellowing laugh cut through the tension.

"I've already got us another room. About an hour away. It was the closest town to here." You moved to get up but stopped when you noticed Jason wasn't following you.

"Is there something else?" A look of concern graced your features.

"Why am I here? Good ole Bruce doesn't need me. Never has. I don't fit into the mold of his superhero gang. I shouldn't even be alive. Who thought I was worth saving?" It was as if someone dosed him with a truth serum. All the insecurities he felt began to pour out.

"Honestly…I have no idea why you were saved. Then again, why was I? Why didn’t that blast kill me? Why did Tony create something to save me? And why did Bruce teach me how to control the catastrophic energy inside of me?" Now you couldn't stop. There was something about this place. "We need to leave." You were barely able to muster up the words.

You still weren't sure how the two of you made it out of town, but as soon as you did it was like a switch flipped.

"By the way, Bruce's way of doing things…it's not always right. You don't need to fit into his mold." Even though the effects wore off, you still remembered everything Jason had said. Everything you had said. Those fears and uncertainties, you don't think you'd ever actually said them aloud. You could tell Jason hadn't either.

"Do you think he's there?"

"It's a pretty small town, I would've heard him…unless there was some underground bunker…" You turned towards Jason, realizing that that was an actual possibility. The rest of the drive was ridden in silence. Neither of you wanted to talk about the things that were said.

You had no idea where Jason went, but it had been hours. The two of you had to come up with a plan. It didn't take long for you to find him in an alleyway wailing on some drug dealer.

"Hey, Hood." You casually walked up next to him, leaning against the adjacent brick wall. He sent one final punch towards the dealer before turning towards you. "Don't you think we have more important matters?" Jason just stared at you, confused. You scoffed and starting walking back to the hotel, as you reached the end of the alley you called out, "If you want a lecture we'll have to find your dear ole dad."

You weren't surprised to hear Jason's footsteps quickly behind you. "Well do you know where to begin?"

"Kinda…I was thinking. And the power to affect people's minds like that has to be constantly going. Especially since it affected us."

"Yeah but that could be anything. A sound, emitting something into the air, even widescale mind control." You let out a defeated sigh as Jason continued. "I can call Miss Martian. If it's the latter."

"Alright, get her on standby. I'm going to call Tony. Maybe he has something we could use if it's a sound or air thing." You stopped dead in your tracks and turned towards Jason. "I just don't get why they would have Bruce. I get that he is inherently violent…but he still helps people. And they wouldn't need him if there was no crime…"

"I…" Jason started walking again, not wanting to think about the answer. "I'll get Tim on it. Just don't go back there until we know more."

Your eyes widened, "Yeah no, of course not."

Once you were sure Jason was asleep, you flew just outside the town limits and began circling the town. There had to be something you missed. It took almost 30 minutes for you to notice the sound. You stopped, hovering about 30 feet in the air, as you focused in on the noise. The next thing you knew you were plummeting to the ground, yet you couldn't stop yourself. It seemed as if Jason was at your side as soon as you hit the ground.

"Y/N! Are you kidding me?!"

Your eyes fluttered open to examine the damage around you. "I thought you were asleep."

"And I called bullshit the moment you said you wouldn't come back here." You didn't protest as he scooped you up and gently placed you in the car.

"It's sound." You mumbled as you fought off the headache.

"Guess I'll have to talk to the tin can again." He rolled his eyes, but his expression softened as he watched your face contort in pain. "You okay?"

"Just karma for not listening to the all mighty Jason Todd."

A week had passed and it seemed the mission grew stagnant. Tony had developed a device that blocked the sound, which you had already tested, but there were still too many unknowns. Every meeting consisted of hypothesizing different situations and possibilities that could be encountered once everyone was inside.

"Enough already!" You shouted at the arguing heroes. "We could do this for months. It's pointless. We need to go now. Batman may not even be there anymore."

"Oh, uh…he is." Spiderman chimed in.

You furrowed your brow, "How do you know that?"

"I put a tracker on him. It's still there…" As the whole room burst out in laughter, Spiderman just looked around, confused. "What?!" His voice broke through.

"Oh…sweetheart." You began as you regained your composure. "There are three reasons that tracker works. One, he was brainwashed and actually didn't know it was there. Two, he put the tracker on something useless to send you on a wild goose chase. And three, he put the tracker somewhere he wanted you to go."

"Considering the creepy town, I'd rule out the second one." Dick chimed in.

"So do we just split up and find the entrance to the tunnels?" You could tell that Tim was ready to get this mission over, so you started doling out responsibilities.

"Tony starts at the north end, Nightwing and Robin at the east, Red Robin and Spiderman, the west. Red Hood and I will start at the south. We can't go in costume though. It will be too obvious."

"So we must reveal our identities to these inane people?" Damian was not happy with the situation, especially having to work with members of the Avengers.

"Just don’t say your name? We're trying to find Batman, this is more important than your secret identity."

You prayed that the sonic dampeners Tony developed would hold for the duration of the mission. You had no idea how long this would take. This situation seemed much more involved than some low level, one-off criminal. It was a demonstration, a practice round.

The town was small enough, so one of the groups had to stumble upon this entrance. The only tricky part was not drawing attention to yourselves. Seven strangers come to town at once…you were hoping whatever brainwashing protocol overlooked this fact. And you were right. No one gave you and Jason a second glance as the two of you strolled down the street. It had been almost an hour before you stumbled upon a potential entrance. As discreetly as possible, you opened the hatch and lowered yourself through the hole.

"So which way do we go?" Jason commented as he followed in suit.

"Left?" You figured you had a 50/50 shot, so you went with your gut. After all, if you went right, you wouldn't be in town for too much longer. "You should probably call the others. Have them rendezvous here, in case we run into trouble."

"Trouble from who? The townies?" You shrugged off his condescending tone. The two of you had been walking for a few minutes when you started to hear footsteps. People were running towards you.

"Uh, Jason…we need to move." Jason didn't bother to argue, as the urgency was pasted over your face. The two of you raced down the corridor until you saw something. "STOP! There's a room. There." You pointed towards the concrete block to your right.

"And does this room have a door?" You could tell by his tone, Jason wasn't afraid to make one. Your eyes scanned around the area until you found it. Not bothering to answer his question, you rushed towards the opening.

"And it's locked."

"Not for long," Jason smirked as knelt down to work on the lock. It was opened in seconds. Your eyes searched around the room in awe. There was video and audio of the entire city. Even inside people's homes.

"How do we --" Your question was interrupted by a loud banging against the door. "Just subdue, don't maim or murder." The comment was a reminder to both yourself and Jason. These were innocent unsuspecting townspeople, not criminals.

"Didn't need to be said!" You shoot a glare his way, to which he responds with a shrug of the shoulders. Just as the two of you braced for a fight, the banging stopped. Seconds later, Tim swung open the door.

"In a bit of a bind?"

"Does it look like we know how to operate this?" You pointed towards the various machines behind you. Tim nodded and got to work.

"So, no evil mastermind or Batman." You had convinced Jason to come back to the hotel with you and let the rest of them deal with the groggy and confused townspeople.

"Guess not."

"There's probably going to be more towns like this. You'll have to keep an eye out…"

"Oh. So you're leaving Earth then?" Jason's chest sank at the thought.

"Is there a reason I should stay?" You knew the answer, but you wanted him to say it. You wanted to make sure you weren't imagining everything.

"I can probably think of a few…"

#BatFam #batfam fanfic #batfam imagine #batfam x reader #batboys #batboys fanfic #batboys imagine #batboys x reader #batboys x you #Jason Todd #jason todd fanfic #jason todd x reader #jason todd imagine #red hood #red hood fanfic #red hood x reader #red hood imagine #jason todd x you #red hood x you

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iscribble · 5 years ago

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billows of white

pairing: kwon soonyoung x fem!reader synopsis: accidentally falling asleep on a stranger's shoulder would have been the most mortifying bit to ever happen to you, that is, if he really did seem to be bothered by it. genre(s): slice of life, a quick oneshot to make up for my last soonyoung fic, so definitely fluff!!! word count: 1,175

The watch on your hand seemed to be the most paramount sight to you for the past minute, for even the strangers that fleeted across the hall could easily espy the panic that writhed within your eyes as if your life depended on the silver article.

Your foot would not stop tapping on the floor as you waited for your boarding pass. Your thoughts continued elsewhere, past the airport's perimeter and even then still not finding the exact locus to cease. The glance at your watch became more frequent as time seemed to elapse so slowly—you were late, and regrettably it was more of your fault.

As soon as you were finished checking-in, your taut feet carried you fast across the place to the security gates, impelling you to mutter a short apology every now and then to the people you negligently jostled against.

You jolted at the onset of the loud announcement, sweat already trickling down your temple as you dreadfully expected your name to be called in any second. It was pure luck that your boarding gate was easy to catch, sparing you time before the plane settled for its departure.

In the manner of a predator closing in on its prey, or so it felt like, all eyes were glued on you as you apologetically made your way down the aisle, feeling as though they were blaming you for the delay. You gulped down the remaining discomfiture that had begun adhering to your throat, eyes searching everywhere for your seat.

Like a long overdue act of magic, you finally stopped at an empty seat near the rear of the plane. A boy was sitting next to it, gazing out of the half-open window. Upon hearing you shuffle as you settled into your seat, he turned to his left, only then realising you were there. The polite smile almost immediately writ large upon his features flooded you with relief. Not only was he cute, he was well disposed too.

“Sorry.” You returned his smile with a sheepish bow, remnants of guilt and embarrassment still seething in you. He reassured you that it was fine, although you swore you saw the puzzlement registered in his raven-coloured eyes a split second before proceeding with his reply.

The trail of lethargy you had deserted ultimately collected in your bones, putting you in a profound sleep much sooner than expected, so soon that you hadn't gotten the chance to secretly bask in the quirky feeling in your stomach when the plane had taken off.

The dull buzz that pulsated throughout the plane was the first thing you awoke to. You had yet to open your eyes, but the odd ambience had already jogged your memory that you were thousands of feet above the ground.

It was only after you decided to recommence your well-needed nap that you gradually discerned the soreness in your neck, and how you didn't remember resting your head on something rigid. It took a couple of dreadful seconds to realise that you had fallen asleep on the boy's shoulder.

Your consciousness of this came to you like an exploding grenade, sending your heart to the pit of your stomach. Was he going to think you were bad luck? What are the odds that you'd delay his flight and discomfit him all within an hour?

If you could yank yourself up from the solace of his shoulders, you knew you wouldn't falter to. But that was the hitch—you couldn't. He had also fallen asleep with his head on yours. You were stuck, but for the most, grateful that he didn't seem to mind.

As if that wasn't already good news to you, you were dumbfounded by the sight of a blanket draped over his and your legs. You plainly recalled never unwrapping the plastic that secured your blanket, so why were you suddenly shrouded by the only fabric that could keep you warm? Your eyes trudged to the stranger's side, noticing that his blanket was still neatly tucked in front of him. Did he unfurl yours for the both of you?

You didn't know how long these string of thoughts hastened all about your mind, but the next thing you felt was the absence of weight that previously reposed on top of your head. The stranger had woken up.

“Crap,” he spoke, almost in a whisper, “did I fall asleep on you? I’m so sorry.”

“I think I fell asleep on you first.” You squeaked out a giggle. The redness around his eyes that had become droopy from sleep seized your attention. It almost freaked you out how adorable he looked.

“Did you put this on me?” You tugged the blanket that had started to slip off.

“Ah, I did,” he shyly grinned, “your hand was too cold, I wasn't going to let you freeze like that.”

“Thanks,” you fervently smiled, his lips curling upwards upon seeing yours.

To ebb away the air of awkwardness seeping through every inch of your reserved presence, you conversed with him as the plane conveyed the both of you past the billows of white, picking up his little habit of fiddling with his fingernails and getting to know his interests—particularly with tigers—which you found amusing.

Alas, the stirring ride could not last forever. The boy—whose name you learned to be Soonyoung—guided you inside the airport terminal to the baggage reclaim area. The way he stayed with you even after the plane had descended was unlooked for. You knew you had to be in different places but he stuck with you like a mother goose not wanting to lose her duckling, taking hold of your hand when you were about to walk into a stream of foreigners.

“Can I see your ticket?”

You nodded as you showed him yours. Merely a couple of seconds later he had your luggage in his hands, already passing it to you while wearing an attractive smile. Soonyoung continued waiting for his own.

“This is all, right?” He rechecked his ticket and as soon as you were both sure, you proceeded outside with a secret trace of demurral.

“Hey,” Soonyoung hesitated, “I hope it's not too weird but can I get your number?”

The concealed glitter in your eyes that had yet to unveil since you arrived finally leaked out of your orbs that were the colour of charcoal. Zeal seemed to naturally spume in your bloodstream again, bringing out the quality of contentment that you had before.

“Of course!” You blurted out almost at once, only then realising how eager you sounded.

“You know, it's been a pleasure sitting next to you.” He was simmering with rapture. You took a moment to admire how happy he looked.

“The pleasure's mine as well.” You returned the twinkle brimming in his eyes.

The plane ride was none like your past travels. It was zany enough that you ended up sitting next to someone as jovial and lovely as Soonyoung, and you certainly hoped that wasn't going to be the last time you see him.

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living-on-the-virge · 5 years ago

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Logan vs The Universe

Word Count: 1215 Summary: Logan plans a date for himself and Remus, but the universe has other plans. Pairing: Intrulogical (Remus x Logan) Warnings: None. Note: None. [AO3 LINK]

Logan needed this to be perfect. He’d been planning it for days – Designing a picnic of Remus’ favourite foods, booking the reservation at the nicest restaurant he could afford, planning the perfect walk next to the lake that they met at. He’d put so much time and love into his planning (He’d even gone to Roman to double check everything, which made Roman realise just how serious Logan was about the whole thing).

Remus was sat in the passenger seat of Logan’s car, watching the more serious man tighten his grip on the wheel as if it was keeping him alive (Which, Remus thought, it sort of was as it was controlling the direction of the metal death trap they were sat in.). Remus didn’t say that out loud of course. Logan looked stressed enough already.

“Logan, angel, you really don’t have to look so down,” Remus hummed, shifting slightly in his seat, the smell of food from the basket in the back seat driving him wild. His stomach growled. “This is going to be fun! Come on, where’s that pretty smile?~”

The corners of Logan’s mouth twitched up slightly and Remus grinned. That was the best he was going to get right now, but he was fine with that.

Logan pulled into the parking lot and finally relaxed, letting out a breath he didn’t realise he’d been holding. He got out of the car, grabbing the basket from the back and helping Remus out. Remus took his hand, their fingers intertwining. Logan lead Remus to a nice, quiet part of the park. They both rolled out the picnic basket and Logan started unpacking. He finally started feeling better – Maybe it’d go well after all?

…He spoke to soon.

Remus looked up when he saw drops of water hit the blanket. Dark grey clouds loomed over them. How hadn’t they noticed them before?

“Fuck,” Logan muttered just before rain started pouring. He groaned, rushing to pick everything up and pack it again. Alright, fine, so maybe they’d just have to eat in the car. It didn’t matter.

They both sat in the car again, mostly quiet except for the loud patter of rain against the windows as they ate sandwiches. Remus watched Logan frown at the sky, mumbling something under his breath. He gently rested his free hand on Logan’s leg, his other reaching for the packet of grapes.

“Don’t worry, Lo,” Remus said. “I’m sure it’ll stop soon!”

It didn’t.

Logan muttered grumpily as he drove towards the restaurant. They’d had a few hours of free time between the two meals, mostly spent with Remus reading out some of his current WIPs to Logan. As the reservation time drew closer, Logan had started the car back up. Rain couldn’t bother them if they were eating inside.

But the universe wasn’t done with Logan just yet.

Blue and red lights flashed behind him and he heard the loud sound of sirens. He swore loudly and indicated that he was pulling over. An officer came over as Logan rolled his window down.

“Is there a problem, Officer?” He tried to ask it calmly, but Remus could hear the snap in his voice. He was irritated. They were going to be late.

The officer raised his eyebrow behind his shades. “Your car matches the description of one linked to a recent disappearance case. I’m going to have to ask you both to exit the car so I can search it and you.”

Logan took a deep breath, holding himself back from yelling as he nodded, stepping out of his car. Remus got out too. The officer took his time going through Logan’s car and Logan felt himself growing fidgety. There was a sound of static and the officer’s walkie made noise.

‘Hey, Remy, we just got a statement from the witness we brought in earlier. We’re looking for a white male, roughly six foot, dark brown hair, glasses-‘

The officer stepped back and pulled out his walkie. “Thanks, Virgil.”

He looked at Logan and Remus, watching as Remus tried to calm the agitated man. He clicked the button to talk again. “I might have a suspect. Caught a couple guys in a car that matched the description, and one of them fits with what you said. I’ll bring them in now.”

Logan, upon hearing this, felt his heart drop. There was no way this was happening – He could handle any other issue, he could handle getting a ticket, he could handle rain, he could handle literally anything else, but to be accused of a serious crime? No. No, he wasn’t going to put up with that.

Remus sensed Logan’s mood shifting again and looked at him. “Lo, I know I’d usually encourage you to go off, but I really, really think you should remain calm here,” He whispered, holding onto Logan’s hand.

“Alright, guys,” Remy said, pulling out two sets of cuffs. “Hands behind your backs.”

Both agreed, allowing Remy to cuff them and place them in the back of his car.

When they got to the police station, they were separated and questioned thoroughly. Remus got put with another officer, one with purple hair and a grumpy look.

“So…” Remus said, face resting in his hands. “What seems to be the problem, officer?~”

Logan cooperated through the entire process. He answered every question as well as he could, gave information on the people who could back up his story, explained that his car had been at home on the day of the disappearance. He sighed with relief when he was let go.

“I’m sorry for all the trouble,” Remy apologised, leading them out. “I’m sure you understand. This case is a stressful one, this small town usually doesn’t have these issues.”

Logan nodded. “I get it.”

Logan finally hoped that the universe would be nice. He held Remus’ hand as they walked along the side of the lake. There was no way it could get worse. Sure, their picnic had been ruined. Sure, they missed their reservation. But how could this walk go wrong?

Logan’s head shot up as he heard the honk of a goose. No. Nope, he wasn’t going to let a bird ruin it. Absolutely not. He kept walking, keeping Remus close. Remus looked at the goose, back at Logan, and back at the goose again. He let out a laugh when he saw Logan glaring at it.

“Angel, it’s a bird.”

“I don’t care,” Logan pouted. “If that bird ruins this, I’m going to lose it.”

Remus smiled and squeezed Logan’s hand. “Trust me, I don’t think this day was ruined.”

Logan looked at Remus, confused. “You don’t? But- But everything went wrong! The picnic, the reservation, the police issue-“

“Logan,” Remus stopped walking, pulling Logan to a halt. “Logan,” He said again, softer. “Today has been amazing because I spend it with you, silly. Sure, it didn’t go as planned – But it was different, and exciting, and I still got to spend time with you.”

Logan smiled and kissed Remus. “Thank you.”

They stood quietly for a few seconds, holding each other before their silence was interrupted by another honk from the goose.

“I really will fight the bird,” Logan grumbled as they walked away.

“Of course you will,” Remus laughed.

#my writing #/#sanders sides #sanders shorts #-#remus sanders #logan sanders #remy sanders #virgil sanders #intrulogical

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areyoureadyforsomemeatballz · 6 years ago

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Fortune and Glory (1): The Yggdrasil Tree

Summary: In the early 1940s the US government intercept a secret German wire. With the Germans going after a relic that could end the world only the infamous archeologist Bucky Barnes can help. But he’s nothing without his old partner in crime- you.

Pairing: Archeologist! Bucky Barnes x Reader

Word Count: 1800

Warnings: Swearing. Mentions of Nazis and WW2. Mentions of death.

A/N: This is my entry for @suz-123 80′s Writing Challenge. My prompt is Indiana Jones (one of my favorite 80′s movies) and I couldn’t think of anyone better than Bucky to play our leading man! Please like/comment/reblog. If you reblog or comment I’ll absolutely love you forever!! Enjoy!

Bucky leans back and taps his long fingers on his desk mindlessly as he forces himself to wait for an answer. “Anyone? There was a reference in last night’s reading.”

A hand shoots up in the front of the lecture hall. “Neolithic, professor?”

He gives a dazzling smile and the woman that answered practically swoons. “Exactly! The reference was to Stonehenge, for those of you that didn’t get to the reading just yet.”

He jumps up from his desk and rounds the corner to the board. He gestures to a diagram he drew and points with a smile. “In these inner chambers, or cysts, we discovered polished stone tools. Which points to the-?”

“Neolithic era,” the class responds in unison and Barnes nods.

A man standing in the back of the room catches his attention and he tilts his head. “I’ve bored you enough for today, enjoy your long weekend. Please don’t forget the readings, though. Michaelson chapters four and five.”

The class shuffles out of the room and the well-dressed man comes forward. “Mr. Barnes, I do believe that it has been too long.”

“I’d say so, it’s Doctor now, Tony,” Bucky responds with a wide grin.

“Not medical, right?”

Bucky rolls his eyes. “That’s not the only kind you know?”

“I should think not, I’m working on one of my own,” Tony answers and jabs Bucky in the side with his elbow. “How have you been?”

Bucky crosses his arms across his broad chest and raises his eyebrow. “What do you want, Tones?”

“To see an old friend,” Tony gives a sheepish smile. “And find another?”

“Who?”

“We’ve been looking for Erskine.”

Bucky sighs and sweeps his hand over his face. “Haven’t heard from him in, what, almost ten years? We had a bit of a falling out.”

“Barnes, it’s important. A matter of national security, actually,” a man speaks up from the doorway.

“Bucky, this is Colonel Chester Phillips and Nick Fury.” The men both shake hands with Bucky as Tony explains. “They’re with the government.”

“Army Intelligence and we need to speak with Erskine,” Fury reiterates. “Urgently.”

“Yeah, I got that. I haven’t seen him, Army. Last I heard he was somewhere in Asia.”

Tony groans and pauses before pulling up a briefcase. “Maybe you can help us then? You’re a Doctor after all,” he grins at Bucky and snaps open the briefcase.

Colonel Philips slaps his hand down on the briefcase, covering the documents inside. “You must understand, Dr. Barnes, this is strictly confidential.”

“Color me intrigued,” Bucky mimes locking his lips. “You don’t gotta worry about me, I’m excellent at secrets.”

Fury gives him an unimpressed look but continues. “We intercepted a Nazi communique from Oslo to Berlin yesterday.”

Tony slides a transcript of the message and slides it across the desk. Bucky picks it up and his eyes widen as he reads it. ‘Yggdrasil development proceeding. Acquire headpiece and Staff of Bor. Locate Abraham Erskine to proceed.’

“You said this was from Oslo?” Bucky asks before murmuring under his breath to himself. “They’re searching for the temple…”

Philips narrows his eyes and crosses his arms. “Frankly, we’re concerned with the mention of Erskine in a secret Nazi cable,” the Colonel cuts off Bucky’s thought.

Bucky’s head snaps up and he turns angry eyes on the man. “Erskine’s no Nazi.”

“You haven’t seen him in ten years. A lot could have changed.”

“Not this.”

Tony nods his head. “That’s what I said, too. I didn’t know him as well as you did, and I thought the same.”

Bucky’s shoulders relax and he nods his head once. “You definitely need to find him before the Germans do, though.”

“We figured that hence our being here,” Fury says. “But it looks like all we’ve done is waste time that we didn’t have to spare. Do you have any idea why they want him?”

Bucky raises his eyebrow and moves to grab a book off the shelf. “He’s got the Staff of Bor. It’s one of his most beloved pieces in his personal connection. If they’ve got that and the headpiece then they’ve got the Tesseract. Or the map to it, at least.”

“The Tesseract? You can’t be serious,” Tony marvels. “The definitely-not-real, all-powerful Asgardian relic? That Tesseract?”

“That’d be the one.” Bucky turns the giant textbook towards them, pointing at a sketch of the glowing cube and the headpiece mounted on the staff. “Legend says that Odin himself entrusted followers in Norway to protect the Tesseract during the wars on Asgard.”

Phillips raises his eyebrow. “You’re speaking as if this stuff is real.”

Bucky scoffs. “Do you believe in God, Mr. Phillips?” Phillips nods his head. “Christian, I’m assuming.” Another nod. “Every religion has artifacts to explain their interpretation of what you refer to as God. Your Holy Chalice or Ten Commandments are just as real as the Tesseract.”

Phillips narrows his eyes, but Fury cuts in. “Perhaps you can take Erskine’s place until we’re able to locate him? This cube seems a lot more serious than we initially thought. We’re willing to fund you.”

Bucky’s eyes snap up from the book in his hands and he adjusts his glasses. “Sign me up. I think I know just where to start.”

Bucky stumbles in through his front door, yanking off his sports coat as he goes. He tosses it and his tie over the back of an armchair, not caring as the tie hits the floor. He rushes up to the attic and tugs on the chain to turn on the light.

“It’s gotta be up here somewhere,” he mutters to himself as he pushes boxes covered in dust out of his way. “Aha!”

He sits back on the floor and tugs the large book into his lap. He flips through the musty tome until it falls to a page with a folded paper tucked inside. He runs his fingers over the aged paper delicately before opening it up to find handwriting that was almost as familiar as his own. His eyes scan the page and he realizes that most of the words are near impossible to read, the ink smeared across the page uselessly.

He swipes his hand down his face and lets out a deep sigh. He looks up and he’s met with a framed picture sitting on a long-forgotten shelf. A beautiful woman takes up the center of the frame, her radiant smile contagious as he finds himself smiling. She’s flanked by a short blond man and a much younger version of himself, both grinning at her instead of the camera.

Bucky tucks the useless paper in his pocket and steals one last glance at the photo before heading downstairs. He heads to the phone.

“Tony, I think I’ve got a lead. I’ll just need a plane ticket to Oxford.”

Bucky finds the door with your name across it and he pokes his head in. “Professor?”

A knife embeds itself into the solid wood doorframe just above his head and he ducks, blue eyes as big as saucers. “Barnes, what a nice surprise.”

He takes the handle of the ancient ceremonial dagger and wrenches it out of the wall. “This seems to nice to be throwin’ around, sweetheart. What got me such a warm welcome?”

You sink down into the chair behind your desk and turn away from him. “Get the hell out.”

“Not so warm then?”

“What tipped you off?” You question still turned away from him.

He can hear your eye roll from across the room and he pads over to your desk, turning your chair around slowly. He leans against the desk and gives you a tentative smile. “I need your help.”

This time he gets to see your eyes roll. “You’re about ten years too late there.”

“You know I wouldn’t have come if it wasn’t important.”

You narrow your eyes at him. “Maybe that’s the problem.”

Bucky tilts his head, which sends a few strands of hair into his face. “That’s not fair.”

He sees the anger flash across your eyes and catches your wrist as you stand up to leave. You freeze as soon as his warm hand closes around your smaller one.

“You’re the one that left me!” You seethe and tug your wrist out of his grip. “Alone. In that bed in Prague.”

His eyes widen a fraction, but he schools his face quickly. “You knew what you were getting into when we-”

“That doesn’t mean it didn’t hurt,” you breathe out. “I was young and oh so naïve. I thought my love could conquer the great James Buchanan Barnes.”

“Love?” Bucky is sure you can hear his heart pounding in his chest as he steps toward you.

You step back as he moves closer with a scoff. “Like I said, I was a child,” you pause and turn away from him. “Why are you here, Barnes?”

“The headpiece.”

Your back stiffens and you turn to him slowly. “That old fucking treasure hunt?”

“The very same, doll,” He murmurs, the nickname slipping out almost uncontrollably. “It’s important.”

You sigh and pinch your nose. “So you’ve said. You know as well as I do that it’s a wild goose chase.”

Bucky smiles and raises his eyebrow. “You’re still looking, aren’t you? You were never one to give up on something once it was in your sights.”

Your lips curl up in a cruel smile. “I’ve given up, I learned that from you, Barnes.”

He rears back as if he’s been slapped. “Please don’t-”

“Oh, so you do have feelings? Good to know. Now, if you don’t mind, it’s late.” You brush past him and he stops you with his arm.

“I need you.”

“I. Gave. Up. The. Search.” You poke your finger into his chest, punctuating each word. “It wasn’t losing my life over.”

Bucky closes his hand around yours and swallows hard. “What’s that supposed to mean,” his voice cracks as he tries to read your face.

“Erskine,” you whisper and slump against his hard body.

He wraps his arms around you to hold you steady. “What happened? I need you to talk to me.”

“He’s gone,” You gulp and look at him. “There was an avalanche on a dig looking for that godforsaken headpiece. They wouldn’t even let me go for the body. His body.”

Your eyes glaze over, and Bucky wipes a tear off your cheek. “Why didn’t you tell-”

You squeeze your eyes closed and wrench yourself out of his arms. “I couldn’t, Barnes. I couldn’t.”

“I could’ve been here for you.”

You swipe your hand over your eyes and clear your throat, straightening yourself. “Because that’s worked out so well for us in the past.”

“You were my best friend.”

You scoff. “Stevie will be heartbroken.”

There’s a sudden pounding at your office door. You raise your eyebrow and Bucky’s heart drops when he sees the look on your face. Something’s not right.

You hold up your finger to your lips as the beating gets louder and you round your desk quickly, tucking papers in the pocket of your coat.

“This building is closed for the weekend. No one else should be here,” you whisper. “Hide, Barnes.”

#Bucky Barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes/reader #bucky barnes/you #bucky #bucky barnes fanfiction #marvel #Marvel fanficiton #bucky x reader #bucky x you #bucky x y/n #bucky/you #bucky/reader #reader insert #marvel fic #bucky barnes fic #suz hit 1.5k #suz's eighties extravaganza

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404gendernotfound · 5 years ago

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Living with a Hybrid Part 9 (Hybrid!Taeyong x Reader)

Summary: Finally the day of the amusement park opening has come. Even though this should be the happiest day in some time there still lingers something on your mind the entire day. You try to enjoy the day even though some of your worst memories are coming back up after receiving a letter from a person you really didn’t want to think about.

Contains: fluff

Warnings: none

Wordcount: 3,5 K

Enjoy!

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8

________________________________________________________________

The next morning was beautiful like usually. Taeyong and I woke up that morning cuddling close since the night had been a bit cold and it was still too warm to turn the heat back on preparing for the winter coming soon. We had prepared everything we would need for the amusement park like little snacks, water and lots of different bags that could fit whatever we were to win at the lottery and different stands there. Johnny, Mark and Haechan agreed over text to join us at the opening that was scheduled around 1 pm today. It was still early as I looked at the clock showing we still had three hours til the event started at the park that was about 20 minutes away from the apartment. Everything was perfect until the post man had brought a letter that I really didn’t want to open. As Taeyong went to shower I sat at the kitchen table, the letter laying directly in front of me. I’ve already seen who it was from and I really didn’t want to open it. Especially not when I was about to have the greatest day at the amusement park with my friends and family. I stared at the letter thinking about what the person could have written and why now was the time to get this letter. I grabbed it and walked over to the trashcan. As I was about to throw it away I heard Taeyong come into the kitchen. I quickly hid it on top of the fridge and leaned against it trying not to act obvious that I just hid something from him. I’ll deal with that another time.

“Are you ok?”, he asked looking around the room as if he was searching for something.

“Yeah, I’m ok. Are you ready?”, I asked back trying to quickly change the conversation.

I shouldn’t be thinking about the letter. Today I should be a hundred percent focused on Taeyong and the amusement park. Nothing should come between that. He nodded at my question and I walked past him and towards the bedroom. As I arrived I walked over to the closet and looked through my clothes. It was still a bit cold outside right now but the weather forecast said that it would get warmer this afternoon. I chose a pair of jeans with a shirt and a hoodie that I could still take off if it would get too warm and then went to use the bathroom to get ready. After showering and doing a bit of make-up I walked into the living room to see that Taeyong was sitting on the couch watching something on his phone with headphones in his ears. I walked behind him to look over his shoulder at what he was looking so focused. I had to smile as I saw the video. It was an ASMR cooking video. I plopped down on the couch just to see Taeyong almost throw his phone away as he flinched and almost screamed. He took out his headphones and looked at me sighing and heavy breathing.

“I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you. Are you ok?”, I asked noticing that I just almost startled this boy to death.

“I-I am ok. You just s-suddenly appeared out of nowhere. I just didn’t expect that”

He was still breathing heavy and I had to tell him to take a deep breath to calm him down again. As I succeeded I looked at him with curious eyes.

“You were watching ASMR cooking videos?”, I asked more like stating a fact.

“They are calming and I really like food. It’s a great combination.”, he explained and handed the phone to me and put one of his airpods into my ear and started the video again.

He was right. The voice of the girl explaining how to make the perfect steak was really calming and the sounds she was making with the tools she used were causing my body to have goose bumps all over. It really was calming and relaxing. We watched the video together until it ended with Taeyongs head resting on my shoulder while I held his phone for both of us to see.

“Can I tell you something?”

“Of course”

“But you have to promise that you don’t get mad, ok?”, he asked and looked at me waiting for my answer.

“I promise”

He took a deep breath before he began to speak again.

“I always watch these videos when I get anxious or when I have bad memories again. I didn’t want to burden you with my problems so I didn’t tell you”

“Since when do you have them again?”

“A bit over a week maybe…”

His head was hanging low now and he had hidden his hands in his hoodie. I placed my hand on his shoulder and softly pat it. It wasn’t like I was mad at him. It was just that I was kind of disappointed that he didn’t entrust me with his worries and problems since I always told him that he could tell me every little thing on his mind that might burden him.

“It’s ok. I’m not mad even though I’m a little bit sad that you didn’t come to me but that’s fine. As long as you’re ok”, I assured him and showed him a smile.

“Well you were so happy after Haechan went to live with Johnny and Mark and I thought that sharing my feelings with you would just bring you down…and…I really like seeing you all smiley and happy”, he admitted and looked at me with his puppy eyes.

“Don’t worry about me. I’ll always listen to you and I’ll try everything to help you. You know…you’re the reason I smile every day so I’d like to be the reason for your smile. So don’t hold back anything that roams your mind.”

Taeyong grabbed my hands and intertwined his fingers with mine. His gaze wandered from our hands up to my face and to my eyes. He leaned closer and pressed a kiss to my cheek.

“Thank you for everything”, he whispered.

“Thank you for being with me”

I smiled at him and leaned my forehead against his. I loved intimate moments like this. We spend the time that was left until we had to go with watching random videos on Youtube and cooking our lunch together. After we ate we got ready to go. I grabbed the backpack we had prepared this morning and put on my shoes. Taeyong followed me shortly after. We went downstairs to the lobby and waited for the boys to show up. As the elevator arrived in the lobby, Haechan instantly ran towards me as the doors opened and his eyes spotted me. He jumped into my arms and hugged me tight. I had to giggle at his behavior.

“Y/N! I haven’t seen you since Tuesday”, Haechan complained and looked at me pouting.

“I had a lot of stuff to do at work and was pretty exhausted when I got home. I’m sorry I didn’t visit you more”, I apologized and ruffled his hair before turning to Johnny and Mark.

“He really missed you”, Johnny said as he hugged me.

“And you guys didn’t miss me at all?”, I asked towards Mark and Johnny and both of them grinned.

“Of course, we did. How could we not miss such a beautiful person?”, Mark joked and I noticed Taeyong tense next to me and moving closer.

I stepped closer to him and poked his side with my elbow. I smiled at him and mouthed “Jealous?” towards him. A slight blush appeared on his face and he grabbed my hand intertwining our fingers. The boys looked at me with a knowing look.

“Can we go now?”, Haechan asked totally excited and ready to go.

“Sure”, I laughed looking at this bundle of pure energy.

We made our way to the amusement park. On our way there a lot of people joined us and arrived with us at the venue. The entrance already was stunning. It looked like the entry of a castle with big steel doors that were decorated with flowers, balloons and even golden elements. I noticed Haechan and Taeyongs eyes sparkle and we went to buy the tickets. The tickets were about 20 $ per person which was a lot cheaper than I expected since the park was definitely huge, but we would still have to pay extra for the attractions in the park like the Ferris Wheel or the rollercoaster. They had a huge stage arranged at the entrance. The major of the city stood somewhere next to it and looked like he was going over his script again since it had been announced that he would be the one officially opening the park. We walked to the front to get a good view at the stage and waited for the festivities to start. Taeyong was still holding on to my hand and whenever I would look over at him I’d see him looking like the happiest boy in the world.

The crowd got even bigger just a few minutes before the major went on stage to deliver his speech. Everyone was listening closely and was fascinated by what he said about the park. As soon as his speech was over everybody cheered and the crowd scattered around the park. We looked at one of the park plans that showed our location and what was where to find.

“Can we go to the haunted house first?”, Haechan asked jumping up and down excited.

I noticed Taeyong tense next to me. I somehow understood what was going on inside him and decided to suggest another plan.

“How about we start with the nearest attraction and work our way through til the end?”

Haechan slightly frowned but then agreed after Johnny and Mark convinced him. The first thing on our way was a shooting stall. Johnny instantly walked over and bought a few bullets to try and get a gift for Mark and Haechan. From his 7 tries he hit all of the targets he focused on and was able to choose from one of the more expensive prices. He could choose between a little plush golden retriever, a few other plushies and a really cool looking hat that would look great on Mark. Johnny chose the hat which made Haechan frown a bit. His eyes lit up again when Johnny bought another set of bullets and hit every target again just to get Haechan the golden retriever plushy.

“Thank you”, Haechan said almost starting to cry as he hugged the little dog in his arms and smiled at Johnny who ruffled his hair playfully.

“You’re welcome, Haechanie”

Taeyong looked at them almost with jealousy in his eyes. I would instantly go and shoot him a plushy too but I was just really bad at hitting targets.

“I’ll get you something, too. Don’t worry”, I said and squeezed his hand.

He just nodded and we walked to the next thing on our way. It was a free fall tower. I wasn’t really good with heights but I wouldn’t say no if the boys decided to do it. After going back and forth discussing if we wanted to go Johnny decided to stay and take care of our bags while Mark, Haechan, Taeyong and I went on the ride. To be honest I was pretty scared after we had bought the tickets and got called over to take a seat on this hellride.

“Are you sure you’ll be ok?”, Taeyong asked me concerned after he noticed my legs starting to shake.

“I’ll be fine. Don’t worry about me”

To be honest I was terrified, but at the same time I didn’t want to miss this opportunity to share the first ride on a free fall tower with Taeyong. After we were fully prepared to be send up to the top, the “elevator” in which we sat brought us up. Looking down was already making me nearly pee my pants, while Taeyong, Mark and Haechan didn’t even seem bothered by it. As soon as the construction dropped us down to the floor all of us where screaming. Some from excitement others (like me) from pure fear. As we finally sat our feat back onto the floor I ran out and searched for the next toilet to empty my stomach in. It wasn’t far. Thank God. As soon as I entered the cabin my stomach was empty and all I had eaten today was in front of me in the toilet. Who told me this was a good idea? I flushed the mess down and walked outside to clean my mouth and wash my face. Looking in the mirror I saw my pale face.

“Brain why? This sounded so fun but it was a big mistake”, I said to myself and laughed as someone came out from another cabin and saw me talking to the mirror like I was crazy.

I walked back out just to see 4 worried men looking around searching for me. As they spotted me all of them sighed relieved and I just send them an awkward smile as I walked over.

“I’ll be fine my ass”, Mark laughed playfully hitting my shoulder.

“I was worried about you as you suddenly ran. I told you this was a bad idea but you didn’t want to listen to me”, Taeyong scolded me before pulling me into a hug and kissing my forehead.

“Don’t force yourself, ok?”

“Ok. I’m sorry I made you worry”, I hugged back and nuzzled my nose against his.

“Enough being lovey-dovey. Let’s move on. There’s a lottery stand over there and I can see stuffed animals”, Haechan complained and as soon as Taeyong heard stuffed animals he was gone immediately.

That boy and stuffed animals. We followed the two excited hybrids to the stand and watched them look at all the prizes fascinated. I walked to the lady handing out the lottery tickets and bought 40 tickets for Taeyong and 40 for Haechan. We then sat down on one of the benches nearby and started looking through the tickets for wins. After what felt like seconds all the tickets had been sorted out and we had some little wins and 2 first prices. We split them so that Haechan and Taeyong could get one each. We walked over to the booth and showed the win tickets to one of the employees there.

“Oh, we have two first prices here”, they announced over the mic and then turned towards Taeyong and Haechan.

“What would you guys like?”, they asked and showed them the first prices they could choose from.

Haechan instantly chose a big white alpaca which he instantly hugged as he received it from the employee. Taeyong seemed to have a more difficult decision. He took his time before he chose a big white teddy bear. As he received it he turned towards me and handed it over. I looked at him confused.

“This is for you”, he mumbled, his cheeks slightly pink.

“I can’t accept that. It’s your prize and you look cute with it so keep it. It’s my way of saying thank you”, I said.

He blushed even more and shook his head. I looked at the bear in my arms and handed it back to him. Taeyong grabbed it and slightly frowned.

“But I won this with your money. So it technically is yours already”, he reasoned and pouted as he looked at the bear.

I sighed and stepped closer to the boy. He looked at me as if I just rejected him. I couldn’t see him like this. I reached my arm out to put it around his shoulder and pulled him closer to me.

“How about we say this is our teddy? Would you be satisfied with that?”, I suggested and watched his face as he thought about an answer.

Taeyong just simply nodded and then looked at the teddy. He moved it to his ear and then looked back at me.

“Teddy said he would be really happy about that”, Taeyong joked and I almost died from his cuteness.

“Dork”

He laughed and hugged the teddy tight before he grabbed my hand again and pulled me towards the next part of the park. My heart melted looking at the happy boy next to me. It reminded me of myself when I first visited an amusement park with my parents. As I thought back at those happy days I remembered the letter from this morning. I quickly tried to shove that memory far back in my mind so I could keep my focus on the presence.

We went on a few more rides like the roller coaster and the bumper car ride. Taeyong insisted on getting cotton candy and I chose the pink one for him. His cheeks turned a slight pink as I he saw that. I knew that he was thinking about my comment yesterday as he blushed and I complimented him. He really did look good with anything pink. One of our last stations was the haunted house that Haechan insisted on going in. We made a bet that whoever got scared first would have to pay for our last station at the park, the Ferris Wheel.

“Oh it’s on. I won’t even flinch”, Mark said fearless.

I was sure that he would be the one to pay since whenever he said something fearless he would be the first one to nearly pee his pants. He was a scaredy-cat just like me so there was no way that he wouldn’t flinch at all.

“We’ll see that”, I laughed and looked at Taeyong who was squeezing my hand.

“Scared?”, I asked and he shook his head quickly.

He definitely looked scared.

“I got you”, I whispered and saw a smile appear on his face.

We entered the haunted house and shortly after the first guy with a chainsaw appeared Marks confidence was gone. We first laughed about it but then soon followed his terrified screams as we tried to get out of there as quick as possible. As we finally got out all of us panted heavily and I almost felt as if my voice would give up on me as I started to speak again.

“That means Mark will pay the tickets”, I said still catching my breath.

Mark sighed and lifted his arms in defeat.

“Even a man of steel might get scared sometimes”, he joked and received a slap on his shoulder from Johnny.

“Mr. ‘I’m so brave’. You should think before you speak next time, love.”, he commented and put his arm around Mark.

“I knew he would lose”, Haechan laughed and shrugged as Mark threw him an angry glance.

We joined in his laughter and then walked towards the Ferris Wheel. It was slowly getting darker and the sun was about to set soon. We bought some hotdogs at a stand nearby to kill some time before going on the Ferris Wheel. The city would probably look really pretty with the sky painted by the sunset. The cabins were big enough to fit all of us in one. Taeyong sat next to me while Haechan, Mark and Johnny sat on the other side facing us. As the ride started the cabin slowly moved up. As we reached the highest point it stopped. The view over the city was absolutely beautiful. We were able to see the apartment complex and the sunset painted the nearby lake in a beautiful mix of red, orange and the blue water. It was perfect. Taeyong put his arm around my shoulder pulling me closer to him.

“I can see our apartment”, Haechan said excited as he sat there, glued to the window.

We all had to laugh at his behavior. He was just too cute. We enjoyed the rest of the ride in silence watching the sky turn from beautiful colors back to black. As we arrived back on the ground we left the cabin and made our way to the main entrance again. We walked all the way back to the apartment complex. The closer we came the more I realized that when I would get there I had to open the letter. I didn’t want to but I couldn’t avoid it any longer. What if something happened? I needed to get clearance on that. We arrived at the lobby and got into the elevator together.

“I’m tired”, Taeyong said next to me and yawned.

“Me too”, I whispered back and stared at the elevator door.

Johnny, Mark and Haechan parted ways with us as they arrived the 3rd floor. We hugged them and waved goodbye as the doors closed again. Back at the apartment we took off our shoes and Taeyong instantly said he’d go to the bedroom. I put our bags onto the couch and went to the kitchen to grab the letter from the fridge. As I didn’t find it there I started to look around just to see Taeyong standing in the door with the letter in his hand.

Next Part

#nct #nct taeyong #nct 127 #nct 127 Taeyong #nct johnny #nct mark #nct haechan #nct fluff #fluff #kpop #hybrid taeyong #hybrid haechan #living with a hybrid #hybrid au #nct taeyong x reader #taeyong x reader #nct hybrid au

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ms31x129 · 6 years ago

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Woohoo! Time for Chapter 3! I had to make a another DJ! I felt compelled! @cultureisdarkbeer @monikafilefan @today-in-fic

Chapter 1 - Courage to Jump Tumblr LINK or if you like AO3 it is HERE.

Chapter 2: Luck of the Irish Tumblr LINK or if you like AO3 it is HERE.

Chapter 3: Graffiti of the Heart (Click on the name for AO3) or if you like Tumblr just clickity-click on the Keep Reading link below.

{Summary:

Jackson continues his journey, leading him into D.C. and the power of words, mixed with his abilities, and some parental love, allow him to travel back into his younger self. There he delves into a memory within a memory, but whose memory is he recalling?

Oh Jackson, never fret, when you are the son of Fox William Mulder and Dana Katherine Scully, you never walk alone.}

“A vision is not just a picture of what could be; it is an appeal to our better selves, a call to become something more.” -Rosabeth Moss Kanter

Jackson tossed the cabbie a $20 that he’d “won” on a scratch off ticket he picked up at the gas station not far from his house.

“You good, kid?” the man with thick eyebrows and questionable hygiene asked him as he slid out of the back seat.

“I’m good.”

As he shut the door and shoved his hands in his jacket pockets, the man’s window opened and Jackson rolled his eyes at the preemptive attempt to dole out words of wisdom that he knew were surely heading his way.

“You’re a kid alone in the dark, and I’m dropping you off in the middle of the National Mall,” he warned, pointing at the dimly lit public square overlooking the lake as if it weren't completely clear to Jackson as to where he was headed. “Shit happens.”

Jackson leaned down and smirked. “Yeah, I got that,” he waved the driver off. “Thanks for the heads up, but they're the ones who should be afraid of me.”

The cabbie shrugged, probably figuring he’d tried if a sullen news report streamed across his T.V. in the morning about a teenage boy found dead behind some bush near Constitution Ave.

The cab’s tail lights shone in the dark as it drove off down the street. Jackson was left alone to wander and think about what the hell he was going to do next. Running was getting old, fast. Yet, running was all he knew how to do anymore.

After bouncing round from place to place, traveling and sightseeing for months now, he figured he’d stick around more familiar places for a while. And after his little run-in at the house, he decided a larger populated city would be a better area to blend in at. He was fairly certain no one of importance was searching for him after taking a bullet through the skull and had been presumed dead by everyone but his mother, yet he couldn’t be too careful if he wanted to keep what was left of his family safe. So, the busy tourist attraction around the Washington Monument seemed like the perfect place to clear his head before finding a cheap motel to crash at for the night.

The springtime weather was unusually warm for nightfall and the soft quacking of ducklings bathing in the lake in front of the monument caught his attention. He smiled and found an old bench to sit on and stretch out his long legs as he watched how the mother duck encouraged her babies to follow her into the glassy water.

As a little boy, he would run out back behind his farmhouse and sit on a log with his dad to watch the birds and geese swoop down onto the lake during migration. The sky would darken with the mass amount of them hovering and playfully cutting through the air above him. Now when the sky darkened around Jackson, it was not due to nature and its natural way of life, but an unnatural force of darkness that has managed to follow him wherever he went.

“What do I do now?” he wondered to the empty seat beside him, strumming his fingers along the back of the bench. “Alone in the dark…”

As he steadily chipped away at the fragments of the multilayered paint, Jackson noticed letters engraved deep into the weathered bench. With his curiosity peaked, he leaned down to tear away a larger chunk of blue paint and saw exactly what was written.

DKS & FWM

WERE HERE

1994

His eyes widened just before his mouth fell open. “No way! It can’t be,” he shook his head in disbelief. But there it was, etched in precise, even lines that defied all logic.

He could feel her —feel her as if she were sitting right beside him in that very moment. Even with so few letters to go on, there was no mistake to be made. His birth mother had marked her presence for her future son to unknowingly stumble across 25 years later.

“Un-fucking-believable. I guess the past really does screw with the future.”

His fingers traced along the letters, feeling each groove as if he were her sitting in this very spot so many years ago. Was she acting as a lovestruck young woman daydreaming of the man she loved? Was she poking fun at the probable 30 other initialed couple’s forever time stamped into the bench’s frame? Could she have been contemplating her future, her whole life as she scratched each line with purpose?

So many never-ending questions with never enough answers. He did carry one way to find resolution to some of his larger ones that have remained unanswered for far too long.

Jackson reached into his pocket and opened up the letter once again. He inhaled deeply and picked up where he had left off.

And if I falter or fail on this day, know there is an answer my child. A sacred imperishable truth but one you my never hope to find alone.

The last words barely registering in his head when his mind started up like a projector, snapping his head back with the force of the memory.

December 10, 2008

It was a cold day and his mom had him all bundled up in a puffy blue and white jacket. He could hardly move, restricted by the coat and his sweater that hugged him. It chaffed at his pale sensitive skin underneath.

This hospital felt more like a church with pictures of saints covering the walls, crosses with the carved out figure of Jesus bleeding from his hands and feet hanging ominously.

The hallways to the children’s section had windows with tiny squares, reminding him of a jail cell from a show on T.V.. The nun brought them down another hallway with big blue bears and bright yellow giraffes painted on the walls, stuffed animals and toys inside the rooms on shelves and beds. All of it couldn’t hide the cold hospital walls, hard industrial floors, or the thick flat wood of hospital railings holding the stench of sickness and antiseptic.

It all made his stomach turn and chest feel tight with worry. The sound of machines beeping played in the background as his anxiety grew.

Another room now.

This one was baby blue in color with animal prints dressing the windows and children’s drawings mounted for all to see. It was meant to be friendly, but it only had the hair at the back of his neck standing on end. He wanted to run. He wanted to cry. No more tests.

Everyone passed with purpose; expressions dark with evil, lingering stares for such a holy place. Jackson made up his mind. There was no way he’d ever return to this place again.

They turned the corner quickly and he swung himself wide, stretching out his arm, tugging at his mother’s hand and was suddenly hit by a moving object in a white coat.

Stumbling back, his gaze scanned up towards the woman in front of him. Her face was blurred by a file, but her feelings of defeat, of a battle lost, of helplessness, of the world closing in was in full high-definition. Her kind blue eyes framed by vivid tendrils of hair never quite met his, but they were the softest blue he had ever seen. Like water in the pool at his friend Mikey’s house, floating peacefully in chaos.

“Oh, excuse me. I’m sorry,” she murmured, reflexively placing a soft hand to the top of his head and leaving a spattering of goose flesh along his skin.

He heard the stress in her voice, saw the tightness in her neck, her hair reminding him of a blood moon casting it’s red shadow among the wheat grass swaying in the fields by his house. She was beautiful.

“Mother,” the word rising unbidden from his throat in a mere hoarse whisper for no perceptible reason. His eyes followed her as she swiftly rounded the corner to disappear from which they just came.

“You’re not hurt are you, Jackson?” his mom asked as she leaned down to give him a once over.

“No, Mom. I’m fine,” he mumbled back sharply as they continued down the corridor.

The nun conducting their tour had his father’s ear, relaying information in cautious tones “...once he begins to show promise in his progression he will visit Dr. Goldman for additional testing...”

That last word, “testing,” burrowed into his ear and burned at his throat as if he had swallowed shards of glass, lighting his stomach on fire.

The word hit him so hard that it pushed him back into the present. His brain rattled fiercely inside his skull. The heel of his palm massaged his brow at the ache firing in his brain until his anxiety settled.

It wasn’t going to stop him this time. He would push the physical and emotional pain away to continue on. Determined, he read the next line:

Chance meeting your perfect other, your perfect opposite, your protector and endangerer.

“Ah!” His small index finger screamed in pain. Something sharp was in his coat pocket, stabbing at it, pricking the skin. He dug it out in the privacy of his bedroom. It was one of those guardian angel pins like the one his mom used to wear and place inside Christmas cards when she sent them to people that were special to her. It must have slipped into his pocket from the woman who had bumped into him in the hallway earlier. Mother . Jackson recognized the birthstone as his own. The angel pin flipped around his naive tiny fingers and he realized he was, once again, trapped inside another flashback. Back into the abyss he plunged, opening into the eyes of another .

A ceiling came into view. A foreign bed, the softest of pillows, and a warm comforter surrounded him as a strong consoling arm wrapped around his waist. Deep, complex resonating emotions filled him—pain of loss, regret, and a heavy emptiness that hovered over him so thickly that it nearly suffocated.

“Do you think God is losing any sleep?”

His perspective shifted and a man’s face came into view. He had a beard worn almost as a mask, drawing attention away from the honest truth he held in his eyes.

Harrowing truths he carried on the cross he bore for ‘her’ and for… a sister. His eyes reminding him of the first of spring, when the grass just started to grow, but the death of winter remained underneath.

“Why bring a kid into the world just to make him suffer? I don’t know, Mulder, I’ve got such a connection to this boy,” Jackson said in a tender voice that was not his own.

“How old is he?” the man asked and his eyes softened further, concern flooding through his vocal cords.

“You think it’s because of William?” she wondered as if she were afraid of his answer.

“I don’t know... I… I think our son left us both with an emptiness that can’t be filled.” As he spoke his eyes revealed an intricate mosaic of an endless devotion—caring and love built up inside a never ending staircase like the one in the MC Escher art book that had caught his eye in the library.

“Just go to sleep,” the man said and tightened his comforting embrace. His lips rested at her temple for reassurance. “Let me curse God for a while.”

Unfamiliar long lashes fluttered shut and a sharp pain sang through the center of his brain.

The vision rapidly zoomed out, blurred and tunneled, focusing in on the toy box in his old room and the angel pin in his hand. He heard his parents talking in hushed tones just outside his bedroom door. He was there for a brief moment, only for him to be forcefully sucked out again.

His consciousness jolted back from his own eight year old body and violently threw him forward into the present.

His birth mother's angel pin vanished, the letter now in its place, clutched firmly within his shaking hand. He had just watched a moment in time through Dana Scully’s eyes, and that man was Fox Mulder.

“Oh. My. God.”

#xf fanfic #today-in-fic #xfiles fanfic #xffanfic #the xf fanfic #chimera #msr fanfic

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havemind · 6 years ago

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Untitled Goose Fanfic

Untitled Goose Hijacking

In hindsight the culprit of the D.B. Cooper Hijacking should have been obvious.

Written by Kilosandwich and MundaneSalad

The FBI agent stood in the air traffic tower, his white-knuckled hands gripping the back of the controller’s chair. The air traffic controller was frantically switching between her dials and radios.

”There’s 200,000 dollar onboard that plane, what’s the situation?” the agent asked.

“He has five people in total on that aircraft, he must be armed, no one’s tried to make a move,” the controller replied.

“What does he want?”

“They say he’s just staring at them blankly.”

The agent pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to connect the dots mentally. He snapped his fingers at the most obvious reason for the hijacking.

“Money, everyone wants money!” A loud noise crackled over the radio, and the controller nearly knocked off her headset and the near-deafening bang, followed by the distant screams of the crew in fear.

“The madman, he’s torturing them,” she gasped.

“How did he get on board the aircraft?”

“Stolen ticket,” the controller flicked through the flight report, finger landing on a plain-sounding name from the short list, “from one Daniel Cooper.”

“Is he involved?”

“We can’t find him, sir.” There was more screaming from the cockpit as the crew was chased inside.

***

The copilot took off his hat, eyes wide in fear.

“Captain, what do we do? We never encountered anything like this in the academy!” he said. The copilot clutched his hat to his chest, practically shaking. The Captain pulled the flight attendant inside the cockpit and locked the fuselage door.

“I don’t know Rataczak, in all my years, I should know what to do, but I freeze up every time I encounter a monster like that,” she replied, sweat dripping down her brow. The cockpit was now packed full of crewmembers. It was too bad that none of them had splurged a little more for extra legroom. The flight attendant was sobbing.

”Just take off! Take off! He clearly wants us to go!” she cried.

The engines revved as the jet aircraft began taxiing down the runway.

Back on the ground, more and more agents flooded into the control tower. The air traffic controller was radioing as many airports as she could, anywhere from Vancouver to Sacramento. More screams crackled over the headset. The head FBI agent took notice and diverted his attention to the panicked controller.

“Where are they going?”

“My god, he’s taking them hostage,” she said, voice cracking. The aircraft accelerated, barreling down the tarmac until it swiftly became aloft, passing into the blue yonder.

***

Some time later, the air traffic controller got a ping from a comrade up in Seattle. She checked her maps and started another call with the stolen craft.

“The plane’s been grounded,” she recalled. The agent returned, a second wind of adrenaline rushing through his weirdly meaty hands. He put the chair in a death grip once again. As Seattle radioed in the details, another agent was transcribing the call on a steinopad nearby. “Did we get him?” asked the agent. The controller’s expression turned sullen, with just a hint of confusion.

“Seattle searched the plane up and down, but they couldn’t find any trace of him or the money.” Every agent in the room gasped. The head agent stood up in shock.

“That’s impossible!” he yelled, astonished. The controller could only shrug.

“The crew said he jumped.” “But, no man could have survived a fall from that height!”

***

Gently gliding to the ground,the bandit softly touched down back in his clearing. Numerous unmarked bills fluttered from his own pristine, yellow bill. He pulled a pencil out from under his wing and crossed out another item from the to-do list:

Gun on the run.

#untitled goose game #untitledgoose #fanfic #db cooper

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crazyzaika · 6 years ago

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between hell and heaven - Chapter 9

So, and here we are with a new chapter. Up into Gajevy :3 Let me know, what you think. Actually it's unchecked, so pls bear with my bad english .

Greets Z

Chapter 9

"Neee... Gajeel," she started, but he didn't say a word. Levy pulled the brows together, pouting because he was still silent. All she wanted to know was where they were going. Was that so bad? Apart from the fact that he woke her up this morning and then just put her in clothes and then took her with him, she missed lectures because of him. She sighed slightly. The blue-haired girl had simply been too tired to defend herself or to protest and in the end he had simply shouldered her, taken her bag and carried her to the station. But what could you expect when she had learned, as always, until the early hours of the morning? Levy lowered her eyes to her hands. Her fingers clawed into the leather of her carrier bag. She always had the most important things with her. Lacrimapad, ticket, identity card and documents to write down important things.

"Gajeel? Come on, talk to me. Neee, Gaaajeeeel," she said and her eyes were fixed on the tall, black-haired student sitting opposite her, silently looking out of the side window. He hadn't said a word yet, had almost crossed his arms in front of his chest. Levy sighed quietly and scrutinized her boyfriend a little more closely. They had been together for a few days. And still she hadn't got used to the thought.

His long hair was tied together in a simple braid. He wore a black shirt, black tight jeans and black jumper boots. Sunlight fell on the metal of his piercings and let the red of his soul mirror shine like rubies. She swallowed lightly and redness spread on her cheeks. His clothes could not hide the muscles and strength of his large body. Levy bit her lower lip and swallowed lightly, feeling her heartbeat speed up. Her senses hummed and she took a deep breath. Then she rose, bridged the small distance between her two seats and pushed the left knee between his legs onto the seat, supporting herself with her hands on the cushion behind him. That seemed to wake him up, for his head twitched towards her and he stared at her a little confused. Levy smiled.

"So? Do I slowly get an answer as to where we're going?" she asked and again silence lay over the compartment as the landscape seemed to race past them. A crooked grin spread across his lips and then his arms snaked around her waist and he pulled her onto his lap. Levy squeaked quietly. She hadn't expected it. Gajeel pulled her towards him, buried his left hand in her hair, wrapped her back of the head and before she could say anything, she felt his rough lips on hers. A moaning fled that same one and heat raced through her body. That was definitely not fair! She felt his hands pulling her closer, pulling them towards his steely body. His tongue prodded against her lower lip, slid over it and he asked for admission, which she gladly granted him. She used to find tongue kisses just disgusting. Sharing saliva with another was something she absolutely could not understand. But with Gajeel it was just heavenly. Her tongues entwined each other, fought for dominion.

" Oh, I beg your pardon!"

They were scared to death and Levy stared with wide open eyes at an elderly lady who was closing the eyes of a little boy. There was disapproval in her features and Levy felt burning blush spread to her cheeks. She rose hastily from his lap, or at least tried, because Gajeel's big, warm hands were firmly on her hips. A challenging grin lay on his lips as he looked at the woman.

"Yes, how can we help you?" His voice was rough and deep and sent thousands of small electric shocks over her skin. Levy swallowed lightly and the woman turned lightly red, scolding and dragging the boy with her in search of another compartment. Levy stroked her hair back and then blew up her cheeks, eyes fixed on her boyfriend.

"That was really not necessary, Gajeel!"

He grinned and by the shrug of his shoulders she recognised that he was about to break out into a loud laughter. She pulled her brows together and he could no longer hold on and his voice roared loudly while he laughed from the bottom of his heart. Her corners of her mouth twitched slightly and she also began to giggle, burying her face on his neck as he pulled her closer again.

Minutes passed as they sat there laughing. Minutes they both needed to calm down again. Levy slowly straightened up again and Gajeel grinned at her. The deep red of his soul mirror shimmered amusedly.

"You will see where you are going, dwarf. Just let yourself be surprised," he said, burying his fingers in her hair and pulling them towards him, conquering her lips. She closed her eyes with a smile and enjoyed the kiss. It tasted like metal and cigarettes. Her heart raced as she snuggled up to him and enjoyed his presence.

Levy let her gaze wander and frowned. They were in Crocus. The station was full of people arriving or departing. The student looked around with big eyes, absorbing everything like a sponge. Stone stairs led from the tracks up to the entrance and exit. Artfully designed railings made of jade marked them off and provided a better hold. Jade columns supported the high ceiling, connecting it in an arch. Lacrim screens were attached to the columns themselves and indicated the arriving and departing trains. Her heartbeat speeded up as she got closer to one of the columns. Fine patterns were carved into the stone. Historical pictures of Crocus' history. Her heartbeat quickened as she stretched out a hand and stroked over the stone following the patterns. An arm lay down on her head.

"Will you come then, or will you examine the column?"

Levy looked up and stared straight into Gajeel's amused gaze, feeling the blush on her cheeks. So he had taken her to Crocus. She took a look at one of the magic clocks and pulled the eyebrows together slightly. It was just nine o'clock in the morning.

"Now do you tell me why you dragged me here?" she asked and frowned, looked at him waiting, but he just grinned, took her hand and then dragged her with him.

"Nope," he said, and Levy felt frustration rise up into her. Could you believe that? She just wanted to know where he wanted to go with her! She sighed frustratedly. And since she knew that he would throw her over his shoulder if she didn't go along on her own, she followed him without comment. The warmth of his hand led her through the crowds and she knew he would take care of her and not leave her unobserved for a moment. Her heart raced and anticipation spread within her. She was curious to know why he had taken her to Crocus.

With her eyes wide open, she stood in front of the huge building, which had already been constructed a good hundred years ago in high gothic style. Her heart beat fast and almost painfully against her ribs. She could only stand here and stare. She was simply not able to do more. Her eyes glided again and again over the white stone, over the fine structures in the stone walls, gliding over the rose window, which had been majestically and with absolute perfection worked into the front of the Imperial Library of Fiore. Sunlight made the coloured glass shimmer, although the splendid colours would only emerge inside the building. Birds flew shrieking around the narrow and elaborate towers that adorned the roof. Some buildings of her university had also been built in this style, but the imperial library simply topped everything. Levy was so captivated by the sight that she didn't even dare to blink. She had been dreaming about coming here for so long, but had never actually mentioned it to him. And now she stood here. He had brought her here. Warm hands lay themselves on her shoulders and she jerked together.

"Do you only want to stare at her, or do you also go in?" warm breath stroked over her skin and goose bumps spread on her neck and arms. She blinked hectically and turned to Gajeel. He looked down at her, raising a brow, looking at her waiting.

"But ... from where ... why ..." she brought out and her thoughts speaded up. How did he know that she had wanted to see that library? Was he able to read her mind lately? Gajeel's cheeks turned red, he rubbed his neck and looked to the side. Levy's eyes grew bigger. Was he embarrassed?

"You ... mentioned it back then."

"No I never have", she said again. The redness on his cheeks became deeper.

"Yes. When you were drunk. At the party then," he replied and cleared his throat slightly. Her eyes became even bigger. But that was a good year ago! And they had all been drunk. And as far as she could remember, he had even been stoned. He had remembered something like that? Her eyes were now as big as saucers, while she stared at him in complete amazement. Gajeel now looked at her again and had to laugh quietly. Then he cleared his throat again and pointed to the library in her back.

"Do you now finally want to go in, or do you want to take root here," he asked again and she had to grin. As soon as he became gruff, he was a little uncomfortable. She already knew that from him. She approached him, stood on her toes. Her hands clawed into the fabric of his shirt and stretched out towards him. Gajeel automatically bent down to her and they kissed. Levy closed his eyes enjoyingly and deepened the kiss, released herself from him again and smiled at him.

"You know ... that is a really great surprise, Gajeel," she grinned at him and he laughed quietly.

"That wasn't all, Shrimp," he growled, stroked her right cheek and kissed her gently and lovingly. A prickle feeling crawled through her body. Then he released much too early, took her hand and they walked towards the building together. He held one of the two hinged doors open for her. The old hinges creaked deeply and as she stepped into the shadows the smell of old paper and glue reached her nose. She sighed and went deeper into the library, looking around with big eyes.

The ceiling of the nave was a good fifty metres high. White struts connected the columns in a beautiful cross pattern. Sunlight fell through the tall, slender windows and bathed everything in a warm, soft light. Magic lights hung everywhere, illuminating everything with additional light. The entire library extended a good one hundred and fifty metres into the depths.

A deep silence reigned here, interrupted only by the quiet whispers of the other visitors, the rustling of paper and the occasional click of a pen. The side aisles of the library were barely twenty-five metres high and had been divided into six floors connected by slender spiral staircases. High, slender shelves lined up to the ceiling of each floor, filled with books and knowledge. Her heart raced as she looked around and excitement filled her senses. As in the side aisles, there were numerous high bookshelves in the central aisle, but this area was clearly dominated by long, fine wooden tables, matching chairs and Lacrima computers. Levy swallowed hard and her body trembled. Excitement glided through her senses and she walked into the library as if enchanted. A soft red carpet covered the floor and dampened her footsteps. She felt Gajeel's closeness as he wrapped an arm around her, bringing his lips to her ear.

"Around 3 pm I pick you up again, Shrimp", then he pressed a kiss on her temple, detached himself from her and released her into a world of books. She didn't pay any attention to him anymore, she was to fascinated by the sight of the countless books.

Gajeel left the library grinning, took a deep breath of air and enjoyed the peace for a moment. Then he pulled out his Lacrimapad and checked his mails and other messages that had come in. So Laxus was on SU? Well, then they would do his work too. They would be able to do that. He grinned, shrugged his shoulders and then set off to prepare everything for the rest of the day with Levy. Because today would be a date. He wanted to make every effort, wanted to be romantic. Just for her, mind you. Even if it was absolutely atypical for him.

He pushed his Lacrimapad back into his back pocket and made his way with his hands in his trouser pockets to the restaurant he had chosen. According to the Lacrimanet, it had the best reviews. Crocus was a strange city, as Gajeel found. History and modernity merged, so that both ancient and modern buildings were found. There seemed to be no real structure and the city was always on the move, living and developing rapidly. He ignored the many people who rushed to work, went to school, or just hung around. No one dared to come near him in a silly manner, let alone look at him obliquely. But that was all right with him. That way he had his peace.

He looked around, turned into a side street and stepped out into a wider street at the other end. Cobblestones, as well as numerous small shops, old cafés gave the whole street an older, but cosy flair. Music came from a few shops, birds flew around, danced around each other. The smell of hot, fresh coffee and fresh rolls, baguettes and croissants was in the air. There were only a few guests at this time of day and most shopkeepers were busy preparing everything for coming guests. Gajeel looked around. Here it seemed so damn quiet and peaceful that he relaxed himself. Which was rarely really the case.

However, he had to look where this stupid restaurant was and had actually been of the opinion that it should be here somewhere. He looked around searching and saw an older gentleman putting up a sign. He stepped closer.

"Hello, could ya answer me a question?" he looked down waiting, the old man looked up and slightly flinched back. What Gajeel could quite understand, because he knew he was dark and also looked very grim most of the time. The older man swallowed slightly, was a little pale around his nose, but nodded.

" Y-yes ... n-n-naturally, m-m-my m-mister," he stuttered out. Gajeel grinned.

"Very good. I'm looking for the restaurant 'Black Heart'. Do you have any idea where that is exactly? I actually thought it should be here in this street," he said and looked at the man waiting. This one frowned and blinked.

"Uh ... "

"I want to take my girlfriend out to dinner tonight. So I should definitely know how to get there," he said, shrugging his shoulders. I felt a slight redness on his cheeks. Now the eyes of the older man became bigger. He had clearly not expected something like this.

"Well ... the 'Black Heart' is down the street and then left hand. But ... are you sure? The food there is completely overpriced and the reputation has suffered greatly in recent weeks."

"And why is that?"

"Well ... the best cook has quit and since then ... the quality of the food has dropped," explained the elder and swallowed lightly.

"That ... is impractical. Is there an alternative you can recommend to me," Gajeel asked and crossed his arms in front of his chest. That was discreetly crappy. Good thing he hadn't reserved a table yet.

"There would be the 'Red Heaven'. It's only about three shops from here and is one of the best restaurants in town. They offer southern cuisine there."

"Thank you, old man. Ya helped me a lot", Gajeel grinned broadly.

"Jo Nakajima", a man's voice suddenly penetrated his ears and by the sound alone he could smell the anger. The old man next to him flinched violently and began to tremble. Sweat beads kicked his forehead and Gajeel frowned, turned to the voice and looked at the man. He looked like a classic snob. A sycophant, as he had seen them too often and often enough already beaten up. The black hair he had hairstyled with gel to the back and he wore a white suit. The pink fabric of a shirt flashed from underneath. The man had a greasy grin and a twisted mustache. Behind him were four guys who clearly looked like a bunch of thugs. Gajeel tightened his grip. He felt the tension, could smell the fear in the fresh morning air.

"Norokuma-san," the elderly gentleman next to him said, not just nervous as he had been with him, but rather afraid. And Gajeel didn't like that. He pulled out his Lacrimapad and wrote a message to his guild master.

Gajeel, 09:50: Jo, Master. I'm in Crocus right now. Some guy named Norokuma sneaks around and scares old shopkeepers.

While waiting for an answer, he scrutinized the guys, assessing their strengths and weaknesses. The Lacrimapad in his hand vibrated and announced a new message. He lowered his gaze to this and a broad grin covered his lips.

Master, 09:50: Put him on. Criminal, rank B. 400,000 jewel reward.

"Nakajima-san. I heard some strange things there," the varnish monkey started. Gajeel meanwhile put his Lacrimapad in his pocket, loosened his shoulders. The old man who had helped him, although he obviously made him nervous, seemed scared, but did not back down.

"I ... ", he began, but Gajeel did not want to wait for an argument to come. He let his ankles crack, released his magic, bridged the few metres to this Norokuma and rammed his fist into his face without further ado. At the same time he grabbed him by the collar so that he would not simply fall over and hit him again. The man collapsed backwards by the force of his blows. He grinned while the thugs retreated in shock.

"Jo ... I take your boss with me. Get a good bounty for him. If you make problems, then I tear your ass up to the ears, only that this is clear. Did we understand each other?" he asked and the guys nodded hastily. They were pale as a ghost and he giggled quietly. Then he waved with one hand.

"Then shoo, shoo," he said, giving them permission to run away. None of the four hesistated. They took off, running for their lifes. Gajeel looked after them with a frowned forehead, but still had to grin. Then he pulled out handcuffs, put them on this Norokuma and shouldered him wordlessly. He already wanted to turn away when old, rough hands held him up. He looked to the side, straight into the old man's eyes.

"Thank you."

"Oh, no problem. I am in a legal guild and immediately smelled the anger," Gajeel grinned at the old man. He was still trembling, but you could clearly see his gratitude.

"W-which ... "

"Fairy Tail. I wish you a nice day and thank you for the tip with the restaurant," he said. The man thanked him repeatedly as Gajeel made his way to the next police station. He had only lifted his left hand to say goodbye and walked on.

"Are you still not finished, Levy?" he asked and looked down at his reading girlfriend who had a book on her lap. Which was three times as thick as her thigh and she was almost through the damn thing. Levy didn't even answer, just humming restlessly. Gajeel sighed annoyed, pulled a chair from the table and dropped on it. He had been waiting a good 2 hours for her to finish. Actually he had wanted to go for a romantic walk in the park, but no. Madame still wanted to read. He took a look at his Lacrimapad. He had reserved the table for 18 o'clock and they had it already 17 o'clock 30.

"Levy ... " he began. She sighed annoyed and raised her eyes.

"What," she asked growling. He raised a brow, grinned and bent forward, put one hand on the pages of the book.

"We leave now. I'm hungry," he said decisively, pulling the book out of her hand, slamming it shut. Then he got up, pulled her up on her feet, and before she could protest, he threw her over his shoulder. Levy gasped in shock, but she didn't protest, because she didn't want to risk being banned from the Imperial Library. He knew that, so he hadn't expected a really big protest. He felt the confused and sometimes horrified looks of the other bookworms, marched past a shocked and an amused librarian, grinned at the two ladies and left the building. Humming, he walked through the streets of Crocus while Levy was still hanging on his shoulder like a bag of potatoes.

"I can walk myself," she informed him after a while and he laughed.

"So that I'll lose you here, or you'll go and leave me? Forget it, Shrimp," he said, turning into this one side street as he did in the morning. But before he left it again, he set her down on the floor. But only so that he could push one arm under her back and one into the hollow of her knees. Cleverly he lifted her up. She screamed in horror and automatically clung to his neck.

"GAJEEL," she screamed and detached herself a bit from him. He laughed out loud, carried her out of the alley and stepped onto the now much more lively street with the old cobblestone pavement.

"Just let yourself be carried, dwarf, and enjoy the view," he said grinning. She blew her cheeks open, but when she let her gaze wander, she couldn't get enough of her sight. He grinned, because he knew exactly that she liked this flair. That she liked such buildings and streets.

Without comment he carried her through the crowds, ignored the glances of passers-by and carried her to Red Heaven.

The restaurant was an absolute dream. Everything was decorated in the old, rustic style. A live band played music, waiters scurried between the numerous tables and took care of the guests. The smell of delicious food rose into her nose and made her stomach growl loudly and clearly. So far she hadn't even noticed how hungry she was. She had been too busy with her books. Gajeel and she had been taken to a table for two and she felt happier than she had in a long time. She hadn't noticed at first that this was some kind of date today, but now that he had taken her to a restaurant, she had become clearly aware of it. She smiled at Gajeel as they ate their appetizer and enjoyed the relaxed atmosphere.

Suddenly Gajeel growled, pulled out his Lacrimapad and stared angrily at the device. Apologising, he looked at her.

"I just have to take it. It won't take long either", he said and she nodded, smiling. She knew he was a member of Fairy Tail. Probably it had something to do with a job. Anyway, she assumed that and she wouldn't want to consider anything else. Gajeel mumbled another excuse as he rose, answered his lacrimapad and left the restaurant. Levy smiled slightly, skewered a small tomato and shoved it into her mouth, chewed on it. The starter alone was heavenly. Her gaze slid out the window and she saw Gajeel's figure. His broad back.

She wouldn't admit it, but she was worried about what this call might mean. The minutes passed and the waiter brought the main course, seemed clearly confused that her partner was no longer there. She explained to him that he had just been on the lacrimapad and was coming right back. The waiter nodded, but frowned as if doubting her words. Hours seemed to have passed, but then Gajeel came back to her table and let himself fall onto the chair clearly annoyed. Levy picked up the knife and fork and began to cut the turkey breast. The meat was incredibly tender and light.

"Gajeel? Is everything all right?" she asked carefully and dunked the meat in the cream sauce. He sighed and then looked at her, smiling. However, this smile seemed rather tortured.

"After this we have to go back to Magnolia. Although I would much rather have stayed here with you for another two or three days," he noticed and shrugged his shoulders. Levy frowned.

"A job," she asked and bit her lower lip. He nodded. Then he picked up the cutlery.

"But I don't intend to go now. We ate in peace. Don't worry," he said and grinned at her. Levy blinked and felt warmth creeping through her body. Her heart raced and she returned the smile, nodded.

"All right", she agreed with him. Levy wouldn't worry. At least she wouldn't let him know.

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