#some of yall never found wonder in understanding this beast and doing your best to lead em to the right direction!!

[the-acid-pear]

I need to remind myself some of y'all are only now getting introduced to ai as a fun thing for ppl to fuck around w and y'all are being introduced thru DRAMA which explains the hostility but that doesn't change how annoying it is. Like i already said my opinion about ai being but a tool but y'all are behaving like clowns sometimes. The computer algorithm ain't the devil bro.

[winstonsns]

the gang with a soc!reader

authors note: sorry the last one was kind of all over the place. i tend to ramble when i write so ill try to stay more on topic this time. in this preference, you and the characters will already be a couple :3 im also wondering if people are clicking the hashtags then they see my posts?? so if that’s what’s happening and you can see my posts when you click the hashtags please tell me because i have no idea if it’s working LMAO

includes: ponyboy, johnny, darry, soda, dally, two-bit and steve

word count: 2.0k

warnings: mild cussing, mentions of fighting/getting jumped

PONYBOY CURTIS

you both are academic BEASTS so you’re somewhat rivals and trying to get to the top of the class

but you’re still together, it’s a healthy relationship

most of the time, you’ll actually walk him home from wherever you are since it’s safe for you to walk home on your own, but since he’s a greaser it’s not safe for him

when you met the gang they taught you how to fight in case some greasers or even some socs tried to fight you

by walking him home, you’ve actually prevented him from getting beat up

you like to take him out to get food or something he wants when he gets a good grade since he gets happy when they’re high

sometimes you’ll get lower grades than him and you two will study together, or reversed

you’ll get him a new book every time he finishes another one, by the end of the year he has a new shelf just filled with books you’ve given him

you occasionally read him to sleep when he’s having a hard time, or again reversed

he falls asleep pretty quickly when you do this and he really appreciates it

you always sit together during assemblies and choose to be each others partner in the classes you have together

if you don’t decide to do track one year you’ll go to his meets, and after you always take him out to eat since you’re proud

if he’s extra tired then he’ll ask to go home so you will

you learned how to cook so he can have big nice meals, along with baking chocolate cake when soda and darry aren’t there to make it

pony thinks you make it better than darry but will never tell him that

he really loves spending time with you and feels like you’re the first person besides johnny to really understand him

you made him think about socs in a different way too, in a good way

yall are just humans doing what you know best, some in different environments and had different parents with different parenting styles

you like to bring him to the best places in tulsa to watch the sunsets

you also get the best polaroids of the sunsets and the colors are so beautiful

JOHNNY CADE

as soon as he told the gang that he was dating someone they were excited for him, then they found out you were a soc

dally told him to break up with you without even knowing you, johnny told him to give you a chance

when johnny invited you to the curtis house to meet his friends, you brought presents for all of them since you wanted to make a good impression

you had your ways about finding what they like and don’t like

they immediately took a liking to you when you gave them presents and a kiss on johnnys cheek

you’d patch him up and give him bandaids to take home after getting beat up by socs or his parents

sometimes you’d give him money and he would use that money to get you something you’ve been wanting for a while

he’s always so thankful for everything you do for him and everything you give him

since your parents don’t really care about the differences between greasers and socs, they let johnny stay over since they know things are rough at home

sometimes they’ll take you and him out for dinner with them and you think it’s so cute

he was nervous your parents wouldn’t like him since most of the socs parents would think he’s gross

he’s always proud of you for naturally getting good grades and seeing the smile on your face when you get your report card

sometimes when he’s upset you two will cuddle in your bed or you’ll drive him to a restaurant or fast food place

he always feels bad about spending your money but you tell him not to feel bad about it since you have more

DARRY CURTIS

things got more financially stable when you came into his life

you’d help him pay groceries and the bills if he was struggling, you also helped around the house

sometimes he’ll wake up to the smell of bacon, waffles, eggs, etc and suddenly its like he doesn’t have to be the responsible one 24/7

having you in his life has improved everything, and his brothers are so thankful to have you there too

you’re like a mother to them and they’re comfortable enough to open up to you

sometimes you’ll ask him out on cute little dates randomly just so he can get a break of hard work

he’ll take the day off and get all dressed up since you told him you were taking him to a really fancy restaurant

occasionally you’ll get your nails done just for your dates and he always notices

you’ll ask him “which color is better” and he’ll say “aren’t they the same?” then you have to explain to him that one is darker than the other

he still doesn’t see the difference but chooses one anyway since he likes to see you happy

he’s literally so in love with you and how you’ll do romantic and domestic things for him

you’re so beautiful and perfect in his eyes, and sometimes he’ll stare at you and his brothers will tease him

he really loves being around you and having you by his side

you also helped him become calmer, that pony and soda have their own problems and darry yelling at them probably just makes them scared

he starts to actually communicate with them and you’ll give him gifts for completing or succeeding because why not

he’s always like “hon, you didn’t have to get me this…” but you can see he’s happy with whatever you give him

he just loves you so much and his brothers love you too but obviously not romantically

SODAPOP CURTIS

people actually think the both of you are socs, i mean they’re half right

they think soda is a soc since he’s so handsome and think you’re a soc because of your mannerisms and how you’re very beautiful

you’ll always visit him at the DX just to hang out with him

your parents love him and how he treats you so they also let him stay over at your house

sometimes when it’s sodas turn to get groceries from the store, you’ll go along with him

he just wants to be around you whenever he can

you’ll offer to pay for the groceries plus stuff he doesn’t need but instead wants

once he got a pimple and he freaked the fuck out

you bought him some cleanser, moisturizer, sunscreen and pimple patches

you taught him how to use them and when, and in which order to use them in

his pimple went away in a few days

since you’re so smart and get good grades, you’ll help pony with his homework sometimes

soda will stare at you helping him from far away, he thinks it’s adorable that you two are bonding

when the two of you are in your room, you’ll play frank sinatra and the little dippers while having a home-date with sweets :3

you two have so much fun and he even opens up to you about his problems

you offer to get him a therapist but he says it’s that bad, you tell him to talk to you if he wants to talk about it again

he legit treats you like a princess and you love it

yall are the most attractive couple EVER no one can tell if they wanna be you or be with you

DALLAS WINSTON

when he realized he liked you he knew he had to protect you with his life

he needed a break from loud and annoying girls, then he found you

you could get quiet at times and you weren’t constantly screaming and acting like an annoying 12 year old boy

you got him to steal less since you could pay for things on your own

he didn’t really listen and still stole money from other people so he could get you things

whenever he got put in prison you could always bail him out due to the money you have

if he had to serve time then you’d give him money so he could spend it and get necessities

you’ll also make diy crafts for him on your guys anniversary and his birthday

he brings you to meetups with the gang, and they love you being there with him

you spoil him rotten and he loves it

makes him feel like a princess, weirdly enough

he’ll steal money to spoil you too, pays for your nails sometimes

you told him you wanted specific flowers once and he got you flowers sometime the next week, he acted nonchalant about it but he loved the happy look on your face

TWO-BIT MATTHEWS

sometimes you’re quiet but he always finds a way to bring you to tears after laughing so hard

he’s literally the funniest person you’ve ever met

he never really expected a soc to get so loud since they were normally reserved and didn’t talk to many people

anyway you brought him to fucking disneyland once and he LOVED it

you booked a hotel and everything so yall saw mickey mouse

two-bit kinda laughed at him but he seemed happy so he didn’t care

he loves traveling with you and brags about it to the gang all the time

they say it’s cool then act like they don’t care but they’re kinda jealous he gets all that stuff

they’re happy for him though

sometimes you’ll get him little mickey figurines and he’ll put them on his nightstand, sometimes even carry it with him if it’s a keychain

he never would’ve expected a soc to be so nice to someone like him

he’s really glad that you love him and you show it

STEVE RANDLE

before you two started dating he tried to avoid you at all costs

he kinda thought you’d beat up him and his friends so he just stayed away from you

anyway when you guys started dating you’d drive him to the DX

you’d give him tips just for fun even if you didn’t buy anything from him

you’d buy him all sorts of little trinkets and such just so he’d have something to mess around with

i don’t have a lot of knowledge on him bro pls bear with me LMAO

he’s almost always with soda so you kind of became his best friend naturally

you’ll buy steve food on his breaks and drive him to restaurants or fast food places and you’ll eat on a bench or in a field together

you talk about some shit that happened at work while he listens

he’ll occasionally get you some food since he knows you like sweets

then you repay him with something he’s wanted for a while that he’s been asking for

whether it’s a book or food or a trinket idk

he loves you so much and is glad soda gets along with you so well

sorry this one’s shorter! i’ll try to make the preference longer next time. i’m gonna try to post at least twice per week but if im feeling good ill try to post more 💗 thank you for reading!

[crash-cinematic-universe]

tiger lilies, self destructing, and richard siken

pairing: peter maximoff/reader

summary: to peter maximoff, love is an anomaly that scares him more than anything else. however, you might be able to help him overcome his fear.

warnings: language! but that’s about it. kind of cheesy at some points but yknow what im not lactose intolerant

notes: this is the monsterous fic thats been kicking my ass this past week (6.2k words babey!!!) i was originally going to add ~~steamy~~ section to this one but i decided against it to make it readable for those who don’t wanna see that kind of stuff. if you want me to separately publish that then just lmk!!  (if any of yall wanna talk about richard siken to me then please do, his work is so good)

taglist: @stranger-names ,  @gooseyhouse , @parkersdarling​ 

1. 

To Peter Maximoff, physical affection has always been a touchy subject-- no pun intended. His speed is a blessing, but also a bitter curse. He moves at the speed of sound, bouncing off the walls and tearing up the roads; he moves impossibly fast, and no one ever tries to catch up with him. People get tired of Peter rather quickly, not bothering to get attached to him when they know they can’t keep up. 

That’s why it’s so jarringly startling when you decide to stick around. When faced with the grand decision of throwing in the towel and leaving Peter behind or sticking around and trying your best, you chose the latter. It was surprising, to say the least. Peter waited patiently for the distance between the two of you to start growing; he waited for the void you once filled to open up again. However, the void never emptied, and the distance never grew. 

To anyone else, this would be a wonderful experience. Knowing that you wouldn’t be left behind or forgotten about would be comforting to anyone else in Peter’s position. However, this did the exact opposite for Peter. He wasn’t comforted or relaxed, on the contrary, he was always on edge. The future was cruel, and the mystery of it all felt like torture. 

To quote the great Richard Silken, “Someone has to leave first. This is a very old story. There is no other version of this story.” Peter lived and breathed by this ideology, that everyone he loves would have to leave eventually, whether it be by their own volition or not. It was obvious that you didn’t plan on abandoning ship anytime soon, so Peter decided he’d take matters into his own hands. If you weren’t going to be the first one to walk away, then he’d be the one to run away from you. He soon came to learn that loneliness was at its most bitter when you’ve come to taste the sweetness of love. 

Love was a strange, complicated beast that Peter Maximoff had never dealt with before. If he were to be completely honest, love scared him. It scared him more than dying scared him. To Peter, death was an escape. Death was the end of a tiring journey, it was safe and simple and easy. Love was the opposite, it was the mouth of a dragon and the edge of a blade. It was the beginning to something so fragile and powerful, something that could end in flames. 

Peter realized he loved you on a summer afternoon. The sun was shining and you were in the shade. He sat down next to you, and within minutes Kurt and Ororo appeared at your side. They seemed so put together, so sure and strong. Peter felt out of place-- he felt as if he were standing outside of a cabin looking in through the window at your wonderful friendships. He watched with his nose pressed against the glass as you walked across the room and opened the cabin door to let him in. 

Peter realized he was in love with you in the middle of the night. A thunderstorm raged outside the mansion walls and raindrops kept time as Peter walked down the hallway. You were sitting on the floor of the common room next to a dying fire, a book clenched tightly in your hands. For a moment, he just stood against a wall and watched you. As creepy as he felt, a part of him believed he’d ruin your night by making himself known. He was okay with being a fly on the wall if it meant he’d get to see you. Peter wondered if there was a world where he had the pleasure of knowing you, without you having the burden of knowing him. 

Still, you saw him. And you knew him. And you waved him over with a smile. He felt the urge to run, to leave you here alone with yourself, but he stayed put. Then, one step at a time, he moved forward. He got closer and closer before he found himself standing at your feet. 

“You’re welcome to stay,” you told him. He believed it. Peter sat down next to you, letting his shoulder brush against yours.

“What’re you reading?” He asked. Peter already knew what you were reading, he read the cover of the book the moment he sat down, but he still wanted to hear it from you.

“Crush by Richard Siken,”

“Oh. What’s it about?” Peter already knew what it was about. He’d read it at least fifty times.

“It’s kind of hard to explain. I’d much rather just read it to you and let you decide for yourself,” Peter’s stupid little heart lurched, and he almost cried at the thought. He held it together, though. 

“That would be nice,” He said softly. 

“Sorry about all the writing in the margins, I can’t help myself sometimes.” Peter scanned the sides of the pages, marveling at your notes. Some of them were reactions, littered with exclamation points and question marks and bold letters. Some of them were underlined phrases and little doodles-- most notably a little drawing of a chameleon on a tiger lily. He loved them.

“It’s okay. Literature is meant to be marked up-- what’s the point of reading if you don’t get to share the love?”

“That’s a good point,” You grinned. Then, the reading began, and you allowed Peter to rest his head on your shoulder as you read to him. Even though he’d heard the poems a billion times by now, they sounded brand new coming from you. He listened closely. You were arriving at his favorite part, “You are Jeff” section 24. 

“You’re in a car with a beautiful boy, and he won’t tell you that he loves you, but he loves you...” You read on, not noticing the way Peter’s eyes had shifted from the book you were holding to your face. Peter’s mind wanders, and he curses himself for missing the lines you were reading “... You’re in a car with a beautiful boy, and you’re trying not to tell him that you love him, and you’re trying to choke down the feeling, and you’re trembling, but he reaches over and he touches you, like a prayer for which no words exist, and you feel your heart taking root in your body, like you’ve discovered something you didn’t even have a name for.” 

Peter felt like he was going to cry. You kept reading and he kept looking. It was getting late, and Peter was getting tired. Your voice had softened and slowed, and the fire that was burning in the fireplace had all but died. Peter was the one that fell asleep first, and you followed closely after. Both of you had lingering smiles on your faces. 

2. 

Intimacy is an odd thing, isn’t it? Thinking critically, intimacy is just vulnerability with more layers. It’s the closeness between people, it’s allowing yourself to connect with someone you care about. It’s stripping yourself down to muscle and bone and hoping the other person doesn’t let you bleed out. It’s a level of trust that is more than closing your eyes and falling backwards; it’s closing your eyes and letting them push you over the edge into the unknown, and trusting them enough to know you’ll be okay when you hit the ground.

It didn’t take long for Peter to realize that he had trouble with being intimate with other people. Too many times had trusted someone to push him over the edge, only to realize he’d be shattered when he hits the ground. After that, he decided intimacy was overrated. It’s not like anyone was going to have that kind of relationship with him, anyway. 

Of course, then you came along and uprooted his entire worldview, like you had with everything else. He found himself thinking about you at every waking moment, which inevitably led to him… thinking about you at every waking moment, if you catch my drift. Sure, intimacy involves more than just physical intimacy, but Peter knows he can’t ignore the feeling that rises in his stomach whenever he’s around you. For the first year or so of your relationship, Peter became very familiar with the feeling of an ice-cold shower. 

What Peter didn’t take into consideration was you. For some reason, Peter struggled to understand the fact that you were just as attracted to him as he was attracted to you. It was no secret that Peter was insecure, but he never really realized how much his insecurity affected his relationships. If he couldn’t love himself, how could anyone else? Peter is the only one who gets to see his persona in its truest form, and every time he has to avert his eyes. It’s safe to say his physical appearance has been the cause of very many painful-- and occasionally tear-filled-- sleepless nights. 

He told you this. He told you everything. He told you about Erik, he told you about his childhood, he told you about everything he loved and hated and feared and yearned for. That ordeal alone was scary enough, knowing that at any moment you could decide you didn’t want to deal with him anymore, but as always, you stuck around. You told him everything. You told him about your family and your struggles. You told him about everything you loved and hated and feared and yearned for, and not once did Peter even think that he wanted to walk away. This is the kind of intimacy that, over the years, Peter had struggled with less and less.

Still, it was the sexual aspect of intimacy that freaked him out. It was a beast he’d never dealt with, a feat he’d never faced. That being said, as every day went by Peter became more and more… frustrated. He didn’t know how to approach the subject, so he'd just let the subject approach him and wing it. 

And as he sat on his bed watching as you twirled around to Tears for Fears “Everybody Wants To Rule The World”, Peter realized he didn’t have much to worry about. 

“Dance with me, dollface,” you laughed, reaching out for him. You looked like someone straight out of a movie, the lim blue light coming from Peter’s arcade machines illuminating a halo above your head. You put Molly Ringwald and Emilio Estevez to shame. Peter took your hand, grinning like an idiot as you twirled him around. 

There he was, dancing in his mother’s basement with his favorite person in the entire world. He wasn’t a great dancer, and neither were you, but that didn’t matter. Peter was dreading this visit-- he hated the idea of being back in the basement that made him feel like a failure. But you assured him that you’d be there with him, and that getting to see his family would make it all worth it. His family isn’t what made it worth it, though. 

“Brain Damage” by Pink Floyd came next, slower and a bit more somber, but still danceable. Your arms shifted to around his neck, pulling him closer than he already was. Somehow, you ended up with your back against the wall as the song came to a close. He kissed your forehead, then your cheek, then your lips.

“I love you,” Peter spoke softly. This was a small victory-- he’d been so scared of the mere idea of loving someone. You were the only one who got to hear his love confessions. They were for you, and for you only.

“I love you too,” Peter would never, ever get tired of hearing that. Knowing that you love him is enough to keep him going for a hundred years. And he knows the odds, he knows that love is rocky and painful as much as it is beautiful. He knows that love can feel sweet in the beginning and go sour overtime. He knows that first, second, third relationships don’t always work out. But he thinks this is going to work out. And Peter doesn’t think this will ever go sour. Maybe that’s his blissful ignorance talking, maybe he’s jinxing it, but at this moment, he doesn’t care. Right now he is at his happiest, at his most content. 

“You wanna watch a movie?” You asked softly, pecking Peter on the cheek. He could feel the warmth radiating off of you, and Peter grinned. In an instant the tv across the room began playing the opening credits to the first movie that popped into his head. 

“The Breakfast Club?” You questioned. Peter shrugged.

“What can I say, I’m a sucker for a good coming-of-age kind of movie,”

You sat against the headboard of Peter’s bed, allowing Peter to settle beside you. Your head rested on his shoulder, and he was quick to grab your hand. Peter loved the closeness. Over the past year, he’d come to realize he was a very affectionate person. Previously, Peter hadn’t known soft, physical love; the only time anyone would ever touch him would be as punishment or defense, not love. Love. Peter had gotten more comfortable with the idea of love, because when he thinks of love he thinks of you.

3. 

Every good story has a villain. A villain that you love to hate, or hate to love. A villain you can sympathize with, a villain you can’t excuse, a villain that the mere mention of makes you sick to your stomach. An unexpected villain. An obvious villain. A villain that’s just trying his goddamn best. Sometimes the villain is defeated, sometimes the villain changes their evil ways. Sometimes the villain dies and the crowd cheers. 

Peter Maximoff never thought he’d be the villain of his own story. He tried his hardest to be a good person, but there was always that side of him that made him afraid. He was like an explosive; whenever someone got too close, he’d detonate and destroy everything around him. It was a self-defense tactic, albeit counterproductive. 

It killed you to see him that way. He told you about the relationships he’d lost to himself. He told you about the abandonment and the loneliness. It broke your heart. He tried to distract himself, drowning himself in work so he’d never have the opportunity to ruin what he had with you. Peter Maximoff was a walnut tree; every time he planted his roots and began to grow, he’d kill anything that grew too close. However, the constant working started to wear Peter down.

It started with the late nights. He’d collapse next to you at four AM, knocking out the minute his head hit the pillow. Still, he’d be awake before you were, already scrambling around trying to complete various tasks. He was like a machine that was running from it’s problems. The late nights turned to all-nighters, and the few hours Peter managed to salvage set aside for sleep had shrunk to a few minutes at a time. He didn’t eat anything with even a hint of nutritional value. At this rate, he was going to work himself to death. 

The worst part? Peter knew what he was doing. He wasn’t stupid. He just needed to shut up the little voice in his head that urged him to act out. The entirety of his childhood, Peter destroyed what he created. The need to be isolated, the feeling that he deserves to be alone spread throughout his body like a cancer. He locked himself away in the basement, trying desperately to stay out of everyone’s way so they wouldn’t shut him out. People tried to coerce him out of his cave, to pull him out of the bottomless pit he threw himself into. Peter saw them as the sirens trying to lure him into the ocean of loneliness, and he wasn’t going to fall for it. In his eyes, anyone who tried to help him were the villains of his amazing, heroic tale. Fortunately for him, one by one, they started to give up on helping him. They thought he was a lost cause; a fucking loser who was destined to wallow in his own self-pity until he died. At first, this was a triumph. He defeated them, he outwitted the sphinx and slayed the dragon. But a part of him hated himself for becoming the worst-case scenario that every parent feared their child would grow up to be. 

He pulled himself out of his pit and back onto his feet, all by himself. It was hell on Earth, but he did it. That cancerous feeling of uselessness retracted back into itself, now residing in the place next to Peter’s heart. However, that horrifying fear of becoming a burden began to grow again, this time when Peter was in his mid-20s. He began to overcompensate, and that led him to where he was; always on the brink of collapse, running on nothing but coffee and twenty minutes of sleep. In return, Peter got to have friends. In his mind, that was fair. In your mind? Not even close.

You managed to catch him in his bedroom as he was in the midst of simultaneously scribbling in a notebook and reading an open novel. Peter Maximoff would always be the most beautiful person in the world in your eyes, but at that moment, he looked like hell. Your plan seemed foolproof, but then again, you weren’t sure what you were walking into. Lately, Peter didn’t seem like himself. Probably because of the lack of sleep. 

“Peter?” He looked up at you, eyes half-lidded. “I got you something.”

“You did?” A sleepy smile was all he could muster, but that was google enough for you.  

“I did. It’s to mark exactly three years since I first met you,” you sat down on his bed, placing the small wrapped book right next to you. Peter glanced at the calendar on the wall-- oh god, you were right. It’s been three years to the day and he forgot. He deserves the title of “World’s Worst Boyfriend”. Scott will probably be upset that he’s losing his title.

 “What’re you up to?”

“Finishing up some old work I’ve been putting off,” he punctuated his sentence with a yawn. “Some of my old work and some of Hank’s, too.” “Why are you doing Hank’s work?”

“He seemed stressed about something, thought I might help clear his head,” The sentiment is sweet, you’ll give him that.

“Alright, well, can we talk for a minute?” Alarm bells went off in Peter’s brain. There has never, in the history of the universe, been a good conversation that started with ‘can we talk for a minute?’ or any of it’s cruel variants. 

“Actually, I’m kind of busy right now, can this wait?” It was obvious that the answer to that was no, but still, he felt the need to ask. 

“Not really, no. It’s important.” Peter saw the next few seconds playing out in his head. The inevitable had come to fruition; you realized that you could do better, and now you were cutting him loose. He couldn’t blame you, not really, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t going to rip him to shreds. He realized that whatever you brought for him was most likely a parting gift. How sweet.

“Oh. Alright.” 

“Well, I’m going to give it to you straight,” you sighed. “I’m worried about you, Peter.”

Oh. He’s heard this speech before, he knows the spiel. He can vaguely recall a guidance counselor telling him the exact same thing before Peter decided to call him a slew of expletives. The tar pit in his chest began to grow.

“I’m fine.” This was a lie. The first lie in a long chain of lies that Peter was about to tell to you, his favorite person in the world. He loved you, but in that moment his vision clouded over. You weren’t the person he loved and cherished anymore, no, you were just another faceless blur that provided a temporary escape. 

“Really? I feel like you’re pushing everyone away, you’re pushing me away.” Peter was becoming more and more irritated by the second.

“I told you, I’m fine. I’m not pushing you away. 

“Don’t lie to me,” your voice is firm and unwavering. “You don’t sleep, you almost never eat-- I don’t think I’ve seen you stand still for more than three minutes once in the past month--”

“That’s just how I am,” Peter huffs. He wanted this conversation to be over. “That’s not your problem.”

“Your wellbeing is my problem, Peter, that’s the whole point of being friends with someone. Even more so now, because you’re my partner and I care about you--” 

“Then stop,” Peter rolled his eyes. He's more irritable than normal-- most likely because he hasn’t slept in days. He could almost feel the venomous arms of isolation creeping around him. It’s a sick pattern, he knows; every time someone gets close to him, he feels the need to self-destruct before they lose interest. Even now, even after all this time, Peter’s still powerless against the poison in his veins. 

“What?” You’re losing your reserve and your stature. He can tell. You’re slouching and picking at the cuticles on your thumb. It’s almost as if he’s been shoved into the back seat, and is now being forced to watch as a stranger takes the wheel and crashes the car. So much frustration, so much hurt, and it’s all coming out right now, onto you. Peter already regrets this entire interaction, but still, he manages to spit acid. 

“Stop caring. Just leave, I know you want to. I know every night, you lie awake and think about all the different ways you can leave me in the dust. Not that it would matter to me.” This is another lie. Your eyes flash with hurt, but you stay put. You know he’s just being an asshole because he’s exhausted and too stubborn to admit that you’re right. He’s egging you on intentionally, trying to get you to snap and walk away. 

 “Peter, god, I love you but sometimes you can be so...”

“So what? C’mon, be honest with me,” He huffed. 

“Frustrating,” You surrendered. The poise you once held was gone. “I know it isn’t your fault-- I know you’ve trusted so many people so deeply and been betrayed or sold out and I know you’ve loved so many times and been thrown to the curb without a second thought. But I don’t know what I can do to convince you that I’m here for you, and that I love you. I’ve tried everything, and it feels like I’m talking to a brick wall. I want to make this work, but I need you to work with me.” It’s evident in your voice that you’re desperate. You’re just hoping you’ll get through to him, somehow. “I need you to want it as bad as I do-- hell, I need you to want it at all.” Here it comes--

“You ever think, maybe, I just don’t want you to be that person for me? I’ve spent my life being independent, my entire existence so far has been built around the fact that I’m going to end up alone. People come and people go-- people like you and Charles-- and they tell me they care. They tell me that they love me and that they're here for me. And then they get tired of me and they leave. I wish that you would just leave me the fuck alone and let me live in solitude,” There it was. The lie to end all lies. The words tasted awful coming out of his mouth, and the whole ordeal left his mouth tasting very… sour. Peter had to look away, he couldn’t look at the expression on your face.

“Fine. If that’s what you want.” Your eyes never met his, but you paused before you exited the room. “I know you’re probably just… I don’t know, going through something, but you’re being an asshole. Don’t talk to me until you’ve sorted your shit out. Enjoy your solitude.” You left the room impossibly fast, your fists clenched so tightly Peter feared that your nails would break the skin on your palms. He struggled to keep it together-- why the fuck did he do that? 

Peter collapsed onto his bed, and it’s only then that he realized you left behind the gift you got him. A part of him thought he should return it to you, but the other part of him urged for it to be opened. He tore the wrapping paper off before he realized what he was doing. The hardcover book the wrapping paper concealed was handbound, the cover littered with your beautifully familiar handwriting. In big, bold letters The Best of Poetry in the Humble Opinion of Y/n L/n was scrawled at the top. 

Peter vividly remembers a late night you spent talking to him. You told him about your favorite poems, outlining each and every little detail you loved about them. Some of them he’d read already, some of them he hadn’t, but all of them sounded like artwork coming from you. He opened the front cover, and you’d written something else on the inside. 

“In the words of the wonderful Peter Maximoff, ‘What’s the point of reading if you don’t get to share the love?’. This is me, sharing the love.” 

Carefully, Peter opened to a random page in the book. He saw the notes in the margins and the doodles and the exclamation points and before he knew it Peter was on the verge of tears. He was barely containing himself, and then he read a specific annotation you made. 

He had opened to the first page of “The Worm King’s Lullaby”, one of your all-time favorites. A specific line was underlined, one that Peter was all too familiar with: “Someone has to leave first. This is a very old story. There is no other version of this story.” Beside it, you wrote:

“As much of a genius Mr. Siken is, I have to disagree with this. If you love someone enough, you’ll never leave them and they’ll never leave you. Even if they die, even if things don’t work out, you’ll always have a little part of them to carry with you. Carry this part of me with you, Peter. Not that I plan on leaving anytime soon.” 

That was it. The floodgates broke. Everything that Peter had held back came pouring out-- the past 10 minutes finally caught up with him, and they hit him like a bus. He sat in the corner of his bedroom, his knees pulled up to his chest so tightly he thought his legs would snap. Peter wanted to rip all his hair out or punch a hole in the wall or hold his head underwater until he was nothing but an obituary and a headstone. His chest burned and the pit of despair inside his chest had overtaken his system, and he hated himself with a burning passion. Why did he do that? Why did he do that? Why the fuck did he do that?

Peter Maximoff had his breakdown in solitude, revealing in the fact that he was, undeniably, the villain of his own life.

4.

As it turns out, ‘getting his shit together’ is much harder than Peter originally anticipated. He's trying, he really is, but it's hard. Especially without you there. Peter knows that he fucked up, and he knows that he needs to work for your forgiveness. And don’t worry, he’s going to work for it. 

It had only been a week, but the entire mansion could tell that something was off. Life just wasn’t the same without the randomized gusts of wind that would knock people off their feet; no one had been seriously injured or had something stolen from them. The whirlwind that was mansion life, while still chaotic, lost it’s fun. 

Charles tried to keep things running smoothly, but he was an old man and didn’t exactly understand you and Peter. People would knock on your door every now and then, but you didn’t answer. You were much too busy analyzing exactly how much of a bitch you were being-- realistically, the answer is 0%, but you didn’t see it that way. No, from your perspective, you saw Peter having a mental breakdown and you ditched him. Pretty shitty move.

What you didn’t realize was that Peter was doing the exact same thing, however, the blame falls mostly on his shoulders, and boy does he know it. He’s been scripting his grand apology, trying desperately to find the right words to express exactly how sorry he is. Peter was never very good with words-- it’s always too hard to know if you’re going to say the wrong thing and mess everything up. Although, it’s hard to see how the scenario could get any worse.

He made the executive decision to start with “I’m sorry”-- a solid start to any apology. Sure, he could stop there, but Peter realized that he’d probably need more to win back his partner. So, he managed to scribble down a few more lines on a tiny notecard he was supposed to use for studying. Oh, what a wondrous redemption arc this would be; Peter gets into a fight with his wonderful partner and ruins their relationship and then struggles to come up with a coherent apology. 

“I’m sorry about what I said, that was shitty. I shouldn’t have said that.” Peter’s eyebrows furrowed in frustration. God, he was going to die alone, wasn’t he? Maybe this is the cruel punishment the world is dealing to him, the universe is deciding that Peter’s redemption arc would be better if it, well, didn’t exist. Even so, he isn’t planning on giving up or giving in just yet. 

He scrapped what he had so far and started at the beginning once again. His 9th grade english teacher would tell him to write about what he knows, and though he doesn’t know much, he’s an expert when it comes to himself. Peter knows how he feels about you, he knows how sorry he is, and he knows that he really, really, really wants you to know that he didn’t mean a word he said about not wanting you. Peter knows about love, at least a little bit, and he realizes he’ll need more than just words.  

His mind drifts to that night, years ago, in front of the fireplace. He vividly remembers a tiger lily and a chameleon scribbled in the margins of your book. Realistically, Peter couldn’t get his hands on a chameleon, but a tiger lily was a different story. In high school, Peter took a botany course because he thought it’d be easy. It wasn’t, it was boring as all hell, but it seems like his slacking paid off. He knew tiger lilies were indigenous to Asia, but they’d become quite common along New England-area roadways. 

Peter grabbed his jacket and took off, tearing through the roads like his life depended on it. In less than 10 minutes, Peter found himself in the middle of New Hampshire drenched in rain. In hindsight, he probably should’ve checked the weather before leaving. Nevertheless, he takes off into the small wooded area that laid passed the road’s end. Dozens of mushrooms dotted the muddy ground and mossy rocks clouded his peripheral vision. The rain begins to lighten as he spots a bright orange tiger lily peeking through the remains of a tree stump. He sprints over to it.

The tiger lily is bloomed and beautiful and Peter can’t tear his eyes away from the wide array of speckles and splotches and color. It’s pristine, but some of the petals are torn or wilting. The roots stretch into the stump below it, and Peter leans closer. The stump is old and worn, fungi and bugs eat away at the base next to a large hole where a family of worms reside. The stump is ugly, sure, but it’s useful. It helps keep the bugs fed and keeps the worms warm. There’s a metaphor here somewhere, but Peter is too distracted to find it. 

He gently picks the flower and spins on his heel, taking off once again. The rain makes it harder to run, but it’ll take a lot more than water to stop Peter. By the time Peter gets back to Xavier’s the flower is a little crushed, but it’s still somewhat pristine. 

He has the flower, he has the apology, and now all he needs is courage. Thankfully, that courage comes quickly as he instinctively knocks on your bedroom door. He probably should’ve stopped to collect himself, but he was riding a wave of adrenaline that wouldn’t come back. 

“Go away, Jean,” You called from inside. You sounded tired, and it made Peter sad. 

“It’s-- uh-- it’s not Jean,” Peter can hear your hesitant footsteps approaching the door, and suddenly the courage he managed to build up drained. His hands are shaking by the time you open the door. You look up at him, and Peter looks back at you, and suddenly everything is much harder to do. He looks down at his feet. 

“Hi.” Your voice is hoarse, but clear. 

“Hi.” Peter’s voice is uneven and quiet. You stand there in silence for a minute before Peter pipes up again.

“So, uh, you’re probably still mad at me and I get that, but I just want you to hear me out. I-If that’s okay,” You nod slowly, and Peter takes a deep breath. He thinks about the written apology that sat in his coat pocket, and he makes the last-minute decision to forget about it. He’ll speak from the heart, or, whatever people in rom-coms do. 

“I’m sorry. It was really shitty of me to get angry at you because you were worried about me-- although, I guess shitty is an understatement. Everything that I said about, yknow, not wanting you or Charles or anyone else around anymore wasn’t true. I need you guys, and I love you guys and it was unfair of me to push you away. Solitude really sucks. I guess I’m just not very good at navigating relationships,” He exhales, and his chest shudders. “I understand if you don’t want to be with me anymore, I just thought I should make it clear how I feel.” It’s only then that he remembers about the tiger lily in his hand. “Oh, and this is for you.”

“A tiger lily?” you smiled softly. “These are my favorite-- how did you know?”

“I’m just observant, I guess. You usually draw them when you’re bored, I figured you’d like to see one in person,” You gently took the tiger lily in your hand. The silence that hung in the air was deafening, and Peter realized that was probably a bad sign. His chest drops just a bit, and he takes a small step backwards.

“I guess I should probably leave you alone--” Peter can’t get very far, because you immediately jump forward and wrap your arms around him. Eyes wide and heart pounding, you can feel Peter’s arms lock around your waist. 

“Thank you,” You whispered. “Please don’t go.” Peter was smiling so hard his cheeks ached, and a horrible weight had been lifted off his shoulders. The close-contact was refreshing; he didn’t realize how much he missed it until that moment. He was pretty sure he would never, ever let you go. Not again.

5.

To Peter Maximoff, physical affection has always been a touchy subject-- that is, until you came along. You proved to him that he deserved physical affection, that his mutation and his personality and weirdo quirks didn’t make him lesser or unlovable. Peter Maximoff deserved love, and you were the one who never failed to love him. 

You sat on a wooden chair in front of the fireplace, reading to the group of children sitting at your feet. The emotional lines of “Snow and Dirty Rain” fell from your lips, and with every turning syllable the small group would listen just a little bit closer. Peter did, too, desperately trying to hear every single word you said. Class was almost over, and once the students were dismissed you’d probably stop reading.

“I made this place for you. A place for you to love me. If this isn't a kingdom then I don't know what is,” Your eyes tore away from the page to look at the kids at your feet. They fell upon Peter, and a smile erupted on your face. 

Peter vaguely recalls the twisted idea of love that he held as a teenager. He thought love was a dragon to be defeated, a battle that could be won or lost. It’s clear now that love is the opposite-- it isn’t a fight or a battle or a thing to be conquered. It’s more like a flower; it needs to be cherished and cared for in order to grow. Sometimes the flower wilts and dies, and that’s natural, but sometimes the flower lasts for a lifetime. 

Love wasn’t a dragon or a knight, it didn’t have a hero or a villain; it was much more like a tiger lily and a tree stump.

[falcor-thee-luck-dragon]

Bound By Blood - Geralt of Rivia x (f)reader - Part 2

Summary: Geralt has learned of a mysterious witch and her supposed vicious familiar, now he must hunt to bring them down for their crimes.

Warning: blood & gore, angst, bit o fluff, things getting chaotic

Masterlist if yall are interested - you’ll find part 1 there

After an admittedly pleasant couple hours of greatly appreciated morning sex, the two of you are finally up and dressed for the days new adventure into the closest village which is about four miles southeast. Luckily for you, your man has a horse which is very fortunate when trekking through snow.

It only takes an hour or so to finally reach the small village of Thurn that’s located just below huge towering mountains that practically touch the sky. Snow covers the land just as expected though the market place is mussed up with mud and dirt from busy travelers and townsfolk alike.

Considering this place is surrounded by a great thick forest and there’s only one trail leading into it, and it’s not part of the main road, you can’t help but still feel apprehensive about who you may meet even with your Witcher by your side. No one knows who or what you are, and it appears that no one seems to care either, although you do notice how some glare in your direction. It’s not you, calm down, you try and convince yourself.

Geralt reassures you it’s only him that they’re keeping a wary eye on, and by the way he gives you a warm smile you believe him and do your best to forget the strange looks here and there. You’re safe with him, this place is away from the main road and there’s no way a single soldier would be here.

Standing on a building corner while facing the marketplace, you watch as Geralt pays for some dried fish and a fluffy loaf of warm bread. So far your nerves have calmed, though you keep a keen gaze on every opening into the great marketplace in case something or someone was to try and harm him or even you for that matter. You have killed many soldiers after all, not to mention the bear.

Suddenly a hand lays itself onto your shoulder when you’re not paying attention causing you to jump back and just about knock Geralt out with your fist. He barely manages to dodge it when you quickly reel back in shock, not expecting it to be him.

He chuckles lightly, “Just me.”

Rolling your eyes you smile fondly up at him, “Sorry...um, reflexes eh.” You mutter with a breathy laugh.

“Guess you were right about being dangerous after all.” He muses, making light of your slight embarrassment.

Taking the bread from his hand you playfully scoff, “Well then again, maybe not touch a woman before she knows who you are? Next time I might accidentally rip your throat out and you’d never see it coming.” You add while tearing off a piece of bread and popping it into your mouth.

Taking a small chunk himself, Geralt hums, “Wise words, I’ll keep that in mind next time.” Before biting into the bread, as you study his face you can’t help but notice how he appears to be fully enjoying your little makeshift breakfast. 

Suddenly a flash of sunlight rickashays off of something metal catching your sight in the morning light, just about blinding you for a small moment. You blink, eyes darting to a market stall that’s filled with meats. Where two soldiers dressed in black are speaking with the butcher, you freeze, taking Geralt off guard with your new fearful state.

“Y/N what is it?” He whispers as you begin to breath heavily, eyes wide as you watch the Nilfgaardians every move. His grey brows furrow in puzzlement before he turns around to follow your line of sight, only to be met with the backs of two soldiers minding their business.

He can hear how loud your heartbeat has become as it thunders in your chest with rage and building adrenaline, he knows exactly what you want to do next but this is not the place for it. Turing back towards you he sets a cautious hand upon your shoulder, “Not here.” He warns softly.

You keep unflinching, nostrils flared as your fists clench in anger, his hand presses firmer now, “Y/N, not here.” He warns again, with more gumption this time, really meaning it.

Breaking out of your self inflicted trance your eyes shift back up to his golden ones, “It’s too late.” You whisper regretfully, “He’s coming for them.”

“Who is?” Inquires Geralt, unsure of what that could possibly mean.

Letting out a frustrated sigh you look to the slushy hard ground almost in shame, “My companion.......my bear.” You mumble, “I didn’t mean to but he can sense when I need him and now...I can’t...I can’t stop him Geralt.”

The Witcher’s eyes widen in realization, “What will the bear do?”

Bringing your worrisome gaze back up to him you shake your head nervously, “Whatever he wants.”

“Gods, Y/N.”

You cringe, this isn’t going to play out very well for you and Geralt knows it, “I know, fuck I should never have come here! We should have just stayed in bed and starved, let’s just hope he only goes for the soldiers and is satisfied with them.” You exclaim in a hushed tone, pulling Geralt behind a corner and away from any unwanted attention, “No one here will die unless they try and hurt him or me, you understand. We have to lure those fuckers away from the village. Now!”

“Alright then, do you have a plan?” He wonders, not so sure if you’ll be able to get these men away from the village in time.

“Yes.” You sigh begrudgingly, “Though it’s not to late to leave me and ride off into the sunset.”

He gives you a small smile at your attempt to make light of the situation, “I’m not leaving you, though it’s tempting.” He teases before turning serious again.

“My plan is for you to do nothing and I’ll harass those bastards into following me out of here and into the woods before my companion has a chance to find them in town.”

“I’m not just doing nothing.” He protests.

“Yes, yes I know. You’ll be my back up, okay? Now we don’t have time for this just keep close but not too close.” Before he’s able to argue back you’re already gone and halfway across the muddy street with a new fire in your heart that he’s willing to protect with his very life.

Fists clenched in anger you grab a frozen tomato from the stall next to you and without a second thought chuck it right into the back of one of the soldiers helmets with a loud thud. He grunts, whipping around with eyes full of confused aggression, “Now wha?”

Smack! 

Another tomato right into his big ugly face causing him to choke on his words as he stumbles into the guy next to him. Dazed and frustrated he gets to his feet, unsheathing his jagged sword while his friend does the same. “You bitch! I’ll have your head for that you fuckin’ slut!” He cries angrily much to your sick satisfaction.

“Ma’m you have to pay for those.” Mutters the vegetable farmer fearfully, interrupting your sweet moment of anger.

“Shut up.” You snap, turning to glare daggers at the two soldiers. “Call me a slut again and I’ll shove his innards down your throat.”

Glancing at one another they smirk wickedly before charging at you, darting to the right, you sprint for the village entrance and out the giant overhang as they chase you towards the forest where a small group of tired travelers are coming from on a small wagon.

Fuck! Not these people now!

Your feet carry you almost to the safety of the thick evergreens before a thunderous roar is heard huffing and puffing from out of the pines. You fall to the snow just as the great brown bear blunders into the opening, immediately mauling down the closest soldier who gets pummeled into the wet cold earth. He screams in agony as his innards are indeed ripped out, though his cries are muffled when the bear clamps down onto his face, ending anymore unpleasant sounds coming from him.

The family next to you freezes in terror, their horse kicking and rearing at the wagon desperately trying to vacate the situation as her owner tugs on her reigns for dear life. The bear growls at the horse from across the clearing, face dripping crimson as the other soldier slashes the beast across the face with all that he can, still it does little but make a small scar of red on its furry cheek.

You gasp in pain at a stinging sensation on your cheek, however your mind doesn’t have time to weigh on it as the bear tears the man’s throat out with teeth the size of butter knives, claws digging into the soldier’s black armor as he feasts. Soon your companions furry head raises to meet eye to eye with Geralt who’s found his way onto the messy scene.

Your heart beats rapidly as you shake with adrenaline as your Witcher’s golden eyes dance from the large beast in front of him to you who’s behind both of them. Suddenly the bear takes a step forward causing Geralt to step backwards cautiously. Shit!

You move quickly to the creatures side, “Don’t.” You warn firmly, “He’s mine.” The enchanting ember eyes of the familiar meets your stern gaze as he snorts, giving a distinctive nod in understanding just as an arrow thrusts itself into the beasts shoulder.

“No!” You scream in unison with the bears roar of pain as a sharp stinging races it’s way up your arm when he knocks you to the ground, now standing protectively in front of you like a shield of steel. Geralt quickly turns around to find half a dozen more Nilfgaardian soldiers racing out from the village, one drawing another arrow as they ready a charge.

From behind the bears legs you can see what terror awaits, “Geralt!” You cry desperately as his eyes find yours, “Don’t let them hurt him!”

Heeding to your command, your brave Witcher jumps into action, taking out two soldiers before launching himself at the bowman who’s ready to fire. Your companion moves just as a last arrow plunges into the snowy blood spattered earth right in front of your face. You gasp in shock, staggering to your feet as the men that Geralt couldn’t stop attempt to take down your bear with their swords and shields.

Failing miserably they fall to the beasts paw one by one as you watch in relief, then to your great annoyance and admittedly slight fear does a lone man charge for you. One who’s been able to slip past the defenses, you reach down and take a fistful of snow before throwing it into his face, taking him off guard as you race for the wagon.

“Hand me a weapon!” You shout, “Quickly now if you want your children to live!” The terrified father keeps stiff and silent as his wife throws you a shovel of all things. Turning around you clash wood with steel, the soldier grunts as you kick his feet from out under him. Falling to the earth you quickly swing the rusted shovel around before harshly cutting right through his exposed neck in one clean motion.

His eyes gloss over as you pull the makeshift weapon from his bleeding neck, grimacing in disgust as you drop the shovel to the ground. Not feeling keen on witnessing the reactions of the family from behind you, instead your head stays forward as you walk away towards Geralt.

“Y/N! Are you hurt.” Rushes Geralt worriedly as he jogs over to your disheveled side, eyes all over you in case you really are wounded.

You nod, waving him off, “I’m fine, fine...I promise.”

He smiles, grateful to know you’re alright and uninjured, “Good. We need to leave.”

“I know, come on let’s find your hors..arh ahh fuck...” You scream in pain falling to your knees in the wet snow, Geralt catches you as your eyes darken in anger, two black pupils glaring furiously away from him. “No!” You shout, “Don’t hurt him!”

Turning his head to follow your pained gaze, he’s surprised to find some idiotic villagers as they throw rocks and other shitty weaponry at the roaring beast, “Stop it he’ll kill you!” You shout even louder now as he holds you back. Your familiar grunts and growls in protest as the men push him back farther into the woods, though they don’t stop, idiotically they follow. 

“Let me go!” You snap at Geralt angrily as he holds you tight, “Geralt!”

“Y/N he’s a bear what are we supposed to do now, he cut through those trained soldiers like they were nothing, I’m not having you get anymore roughed up then you already are.” Pleads Geralt. No you idiot they cannot kill him!

Eyes darkening in rage you break from his tight grasp and shove him to the ground before grabbing his fallen sword and racing towards the stupid villagers who are disappearing into the forest, the roars of your companion sounding painfully throughout the woods.

“Y/N!” He shouts after you, still you ignore him, to focused on tearing into the woods with determination clear in your heart. Soon enough you find the men in a snowy meadow among the great timber, makeshift weapons pointing dangerously at the bear who’s now standing his ground. 

“Get back!” You shout as they shove their sticks into the bears face that’s not even ten feet from them. “Don’t!”

The bear growls a fearsome roar of protest and pain as it backs up closer to the tree line while the villagers press closer and closer with their steel and wood, shouting insults as they go.

“Stop it he could rip your throats out you fools! Stop-ah..ouch fuck.” You seethe through clenched teeth as one of them knocks you to the ground with his garden hoe. He chuckles maliciously, eyeing you grossly as he holds up the tool readying for another hit.

“This your beasty, huh?” Taunts the dirty man with a smug grin just as your fearsome bear races to your aid with a new found purpose. He throws men that stand in his way before slashing open the mans stomach, entrails slipping out right before your vary eyes.

“Fuck.” You mutter before all hell breaks loose, more of the village men try and take down the bear but it’s no use, he slashes and tears at them, causing most to flee in terror back through the woods and eventually into the village.

“Stop! You’ve done enough for me! It’s time to go now, leave!” Is lost on the wind as the beast mauls down another man. Soon warm arms pull you from the ground and into a strong chest as your Witcher pleads for you to fall back. “Geralt no! I have to make him leave this place, he’ll kill all who try and harm him!”

“Y/N your bear is murdering innocents, this has to end now!” He exclaims while holding you close though he’s just making you more frustrated. No one is innocent.

“What are you implying?” You snap at him, dreading what he’s about to say next as you hold his arms against your chest.

“Y/N.” He whispers almost regretfully, face pressed against your cheek, “We have to kill him, it’s the only way to stop this slaughter from continuing.”

Elbowing him in the stomach you shove him from your side, face a mask of anguish and fear, “I can’t Geralt!” You exclaim loudly, “Fuck, there are just some things you don’t know about me yet! Dammit this is all wrong!”

He gives you a deep frown as he studies your face, confusion clear on his handsome features, “Y/N we have no choice.”

“There is always a choice!” Your voice is strong as you shout at him, he huffs in frustration at your outburst, clearly he doesn’t know why the bear cannot die. Y/N just tell him, he trusts you. Eyes softening you swallow thickly while touching your sore shoulder, “You don’t understand.”

Staring at you desperately, his face and hair undoubtedly a mess of dirt and blood, he looks to you now with deep confusion, “What do you mean?”

Breathing a heavy sigh you look down at the palm of your hand that’s still covered in bandages, “You can’t kill it, that creature is bound to me by an unbreakable link..”

“What?” He wonders, grey brows furrowing in puzzlement at your strange half explanation, “What does that mean Y/N?”

Your gaze falls to the snow covered earth then over to the beast that’s now decided to head for the woods, leaving a trail of bloody paw prints in the snow, no men left alive in it’s wake.

You frown deeply, your features conflicted and almost lost as you find his lingering gaze once more, “It’s complicated.” You begrudgingly mutter, Y/N he trusts you. “Let’s get out of here and I’ll explain everything.”

“Fine, come on.” Urges Geralt as the two of you make haste for the woods where Roach is waiting patiently.

The ride back is deathly silent, a new tension filling the small atmosphere around the two of you as you sit quietly in front of him. He doesn’t further press you for anything until he’s made it back to the secluded old cabin where he clicks his tongue to stop Roach. Boots hit the snow as Geralt looks up to you now, you nod lowly and let him help you down though you don’t truly need it, he ties off Roach before following you into the warmth of the small house.

As soon as you stand in front of the dying fire do your eyes fill with unshed tears while you bite your lip anxiously. Geralt’s gentle gaze falls onto your form as he steps closely in front of you, reaching his hands up to carefully clasp his hands with yours, “Tell me why this bear is so special to you, please Y/N?” He quietly asks.

Blinking the tears away you rest a hand onto your wounded shoulder that’s left a red mark through your shirt, though still letting him hold the other one. “That beast is my twin brother Geralt.” His brows raise in surprise still he keeps silent as you continue, “I don’t understand it myself, and neither does he. But ever since we came into this world something has linked our very souls and vessels together so that if one of us is hurt, the other feels it too.”

Blinking hard, the Witcher’s brows furrow even deeper now, “That’s your brother.” He repeats, trying to wrap his head around the whole thing as he starts to connect the dots, “Is this why your hand is hurt and your shoulder is wounded?”

You sigh, tilting your head up to fully look at him, “Yes. When you cut his paw it cut me too, then earlier when that damn archer shot him in the shoulder I felt everything.”

“I could tell you looked in pain, and your cheek.” He brings a hand up to gently caress your cheek, “A fresh scar. I did wonder how that happened.”

“It’s a quick pain, still hurts of course. But it’s something I have always lived with, and it’s something mages would be very inclined to study so you mustn’t tell a soul.” You affirmed through pleading eyes as you suddenly pull apart from his grasp when a jolting pain hits you on the temple unexpectedly. “Fuck, what the hell?”

Geralt’s at your side in an instant, “Y/N you’re bleeding.” Worries your Witcher as he grabs a spare cloth and applies it to your head. “Will you be okay?”

“Yes, it’s a simple cut. My brothers thick skull is to thank for that. Dammit if I could only find him.”

“Couldn’t you through some twin bond like you said, maybe that would work?” He suggests.

“Ah shit, fuck...okay yes there is another way...but please don’t look at me differently when I tell you. This is the last secret I promise.”

“Nothing is stranger then this twin link, tell me Y/N I trust you.”

Giving him a kind apprehensive smile do you nod, “My brother isn’t the only one who can change form, I can too. Difference is....I’m a wolf.”

Your heart beats with fear as Geralt begins to chuckle much to your confusion, “A wolf huh? Of course you’re a wolf, I’ve heard this could be destiny of some kind. Do you believe in that horseshit?”

You let out a humorous breath, “Well, I’m a skin-changer and if my twin gets hurt so do I. So...uh....I’m not exactly one to not question what weird shit destiny has in store for me, I mean look, I’m with a Witcher and he hasn’t killed me yet.”

Geralt’s hums, golden eyes shinning bright down at you, “And I don’t ever plan on it.” Oh, Geralt.

He smiles fondly at you though you begin to frown, “Well that’s just it huh, my brother has taken bear form for a while now, he won’t want to come back. And those villagers saw me with him, they’ll know...they’ll hunt for us. Geralt I can’t have him hurt anyone else...but what can I do? There’s only one way to truly reason with him....but I’m afraid.”

“Why? What would happen?” Worries your Witcher.

Your eyes briefly drop to the floor before they shift back up to Geralt, “I must take my beast form to speak with him, he understands me as I am now...it’s just, well I can’t really understand him as a bear.”

“Then we’ll find him.” Mutters Geralt reassuringly, causing a tiny smile to appear on your face, “Together.”

[leavetwn]

* KAYLEE BRYANT, CISWOMAN + SHE/HER  | you know SUZIE TANAKA, right? they’re TWENTY-ONE, and they’ve lived in irving for, like, EIGHTEEN YEARS? well, their spotify wrapped says they listened to VALENTINE BY HOPE TALA like, a million times this year, which makes sense ‘cause they’ve got that whole ROLLERSKATES SCUFFED FROM YEARS OF USE, STARTING A JOURNAL ENTRY TWO YEARS SINCE THE LAST ONE, A SIGH OF RELIEF ONCE YOU'RE FINALLY ALONE thing going on. i just checked and their birthday is NOVEMBER 28TH, so they’re a SAGGITARIUS, which is unsurprising, all things considered. ( claire, 22, est, she/her )

it’s me again ! bringing a character who i’ve played for a while now, just switched up & such for every rp, and now , i’m bringin her here. :^) i hope you enjoy her as much as i do! tw: mentions of mental illness (anxiety)

𝐈. ━━ ˟ ⊰ ✰ 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐬 .

full name: suzie tanaka. nickname(s): su, anything your muse wants to call her tbh. age: twenty-one. date of birth: november 28th. zodiac sign: saggitarius. gender/pronouns: ciswoman, she/her. sexual orientation: bisexual. romantic orientation: biromantic. hometown: san francisco, californio. current residence: irving, north carolina. occupation: part time waitress at cutie pie’s thanks to her skills on skates. full time student at the local college in her junior year as a creative writing major. she minors in film pro eye color: brown. hair color/style: dark brown, upper-mid back length & she usually just wears it in a simple ponytail. it’s more manageable when she’s out. however, when she’s at home, she’ll leave it down. height : 5′3″. clothing style: you can’t really put suzie’s style into one category. it’s inspired by several different eras & many times she pieces it together. some might call it a bit tacky at times, but she thinks it looks cute. to her, that’s all that matters. tattoos: none. probably could never attempt to get one cause she’s seriously afraid of needles lol. piercings: her ears and that’s when she was fairly young. reference the tattoos portion for reasoning.

𝐈. ━━ ˟ ⊰ ✰ 𝐪𝐮𝐢𝐜𝐤 𝐡𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐲 .

when you were around six years old  , you first realized that you were lonely. it wasn’t like you weren’t around other people. it was just that those people were mostly your mom and dad. occasionally your cousins would come over sometimes, but they were all older than you by at least four years. your parents were kind of eccentric, and for that, they experienced how harsh other kids could be very early on. they decided they didn’t want you to experience the same things, so since both were felt they were prepared enough to do so, they homeschooled you to keep you sheltered from those types of things. 

you’re sure they had good intentions. that’s not something you questioned, but you wished they’d at least find another kid you could be friends with or have another kid. you found yourself bored by yourself, so you immersed yourself in things like books or whatever movies they had around the house. this is where your love of fairytales began, and you’d fantasize about living in one while you read or watched the stories unfold.

you lived in your head, and you still pretty much do. you’re an idealist, even though you haven’t seen much of the world. perhaps it’s the fact that you haven’t ventured very far from your home that makes you so, and while life could still be boring, you always had another book or movie to keep you company. you grew content being on your own, and the more that you were, the more you began to enjoy your own company.

that didn’t change the fact that you longed for friends. in all the stories you read or watched, the protagonist had one other person along with them for much of their journey. sure, you had people that you were friendly with, but it was never to the extent that you wanted. it was never a best friend or a close group  —  just someone you saw on few occasions. it also didn’t help how you felt when you were around others. the way you monitored every step you took, the way you crossed your legs, or going over the way you would speak to someone in your head over and over. you figured for the longest time it was because you were shy, but a diagnosis of anxiety gave you a lot more clarity and almost a sense of relief. those things started to make more sense.

being alone helped a lot when it came to academics. you spent a lot of your time studying or looking up random ass facts on the internet, and because of this, you’d call yourself fairly smart. you know your shit. it also helped a lot when getting into colleges. you didn’t aim too high though, not yet comfortable being all the way on your own. so, you chose the nearby university to attend. 

you move out. you’re excited, and your parents are nervous but prepared. they’re not oblivious to the fact that this day would come. you’re ready to go out and face the world, but most of all, you’re ready to make friends. you’re ready to go out and experience the world, every small step at a time. you’re convinced at college you’ll become a brand new person, find yourself, and make plenty of friends. 

it doesn’t go like that at first. of course it doesn’t. it’s a new environment, and it takes getting used to. but soon, people loosen up and warm up to you. you’re quick to make a couple of friends. it isn’t at all like the stories you’d read or watched when you were younger. it is happy and fun and joyous, but you realize that friendships take work. it’s a bit exhausting, as someone who had become such an introvert, but you manage and form close bonds. 

as of now, you are working on your degree and managing life one step at a time. you’re doing pretty well, and things are looking up. you keep your head in the clouds still to this day, imagining what the future will be like. you’re still idealistic and optimistic, not that that’s a bad thing.  

𝐈. ━━ ˟ ⊰ ✰ 𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐞𝐨𝐮𝐬 .

i was being exaggerative with the ‘being at home’ stuff rip. i mean, she did spend a lot of time at home, but she wasn’t always there. her dad would take her out to rockin’ and rollin’, and i mean, she fuckin rocks when it comes to skating. it was kind of freeing to her as a child. she def got a pair of rollerblades as a christmas present, and she probably was the kid skating down her neighborhood road and shit from sunrise until her mom told her to take her ass inside. 

maybe seems like she’s ditzy and she’s probably somewhat naive, but she’s definitely not stupid. she’s also a fast learner. she is, however, too nice for her own good. she’ll learn eventually, but she’s hopeful and an optimist at heart 💔

loves her dad but tells her mom everything. she doesn’t recognize it, but her mom was probably her first best friend lmaoo. they have a really good relationship. she has a good relationship with her dad too. he’s a bit more closed off than her mom, and she recognizes that but understands.

has an irrational fear that everyone’s like,,, staring at her & thinking she’s weird. really wants everyone to like her but she’s not sure how to make that happen (news flash, it won’t)

her fam is actually from san francisco but when she was 3, her dad got a better offer in irving so that’s how they ended up here. she knows this & she wonders what life woulda been like if she stayed back in san fran. probably wouldn’t have changed but she literally lives in her head and imagines shit like that’s her job at this point so yehhh 

dreams of being a screenwriter and maybe even a director one day. she saw how film and books influenced her life as a kid & she wants to have the same impact, yk? v cute to me i love that. maybe she’ll write a book one day too who knows

i’m feelin like she has a ton of online friends cause she was seeking connection /w people so it makes sense. shout out to all her online pals who kept her sane & shit, but it wasn’t enough for her cause she really wanted those kinds of things irl.

is a hopeless romantic rip to her. just wants someone to sweep her up off her feet and give her butterflies but this aint no damn fairytale so let’s make it chaotic

character parallels: lily (dash & lily, 2020) , amélie poulain (amélie, 2001) , belle in some ways lmao (beauty and the beast, 1991) more to be added.

𝐈. ━━ ˟ ⊰ ✰ 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐧𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 .

*  friends, best friends, etc.  — literally any friends at all. this is the connection she craves the most tbh. platonic over romantic periodt ! she just wants people to braid her hair and have deep, personal convos with about literally anything while legally blonde is on the television. 

* a bad influence  —  i mean, she stayed inside mostly & is kind of an introvert. didn’t have tons of friends either, so she didn’t really have time to go to parties, etc. BE A BAD INFLUENCE SHE NEEDS TO LET LOOSE LMAOO. it’ll prolly take a lot to get her out but hey 

* good influence  — someone she’s a good influence on & who she helps in some way. i could see it happenin’. if you see it happening, i mean... hmu you know where i am mwah 💖

* crush  — someone she’s head over heels with. i mean, it probably wouldn’t take a lot. in my head she be catching feelings way too fast. it’s just a thing, but yeah, it could go either way. maybe your character is into her too or she’ll end up getting her heart broken which is lmao bound to happen one day. could also be someone who’s crushing on her but she’s way to busy focusing all her romantic attention on someone else to notice? idk i’m just here for all the plots.

* annoyance  — someone who finds her ass annoying/does not like her. she wants everyone to like her so it would be so confusing and upsetting and she would be like wtf did i do but i want it cause i love angst. sorry to all my muses out there luv yall but i’m just bein real

* again, anything at all  — if you have an idea that you love, pls don’t hesitate to hmu and lemme know. i promise i will 99.9% of the time be down. the same goes for any wanted connection doodads that i reblog like if u see it and ur like omg i luv that... PLEASE hmu i luv u all already & just wanna have plots and write with you srsly

[thecardsimagine]

Of shipwrecks and seafoam

Summary: Let me tell you a story about a pirate and a merman, finding a love that goes beyond insecurities and death. Let yourself be taken away onto a journey about doubt and secrets, understanding and a bond that even goes beyond the deep blue of the ocean.

Pairing: Merman!Julian Devorak x Pirate!Reader (Nonbinary) Rating: Mature because of swearing and suggestive content Warning: Blood, Death, Killing Genre: Romance, Drama, Alternate Universe

a/n: Here we gooo. Honestly, I was a bit insecure in this chapter. But I decided against overwriting it as if would have turned out worse I think. I hope yall can enjoy it, the next chapters will be better I promise. As always, please leave me a comment and tell me what you think!

Chapter 3 - Things to learn

Julian.

At least, that's what it said. It could speak, and its name was Julian, so much you knew. It tried to say something else but you passed out before you could hear the end of it and either you were dead or crazy by now. Some part of you still wanted to believe it was a dream. Whether it was good or bad didn't matter if only it was a dream of yours.

And you really did wake up, back on the dry shore, to a familiar, hummed tune sounding from somewhere close. When you opened your eyes, you saw the cloudy sky above you. The sun was nowhere to be seen anymore, hidden behind the white and grey fluffs before it so you couldn't make out how long you had been asleep.  Groaning, you brought your hands up to your face, rubbing them over your features, noticing too late how wet and slimy they felt against your skin.

With a disgusted groan, you were sitting upright, wiping your face on your shirt before staring at your hands in bewilderment. There it was again, the green seaweed you really had come to dislike by now. As if you were stung by a bee, you pried it off your palms, or at least tried too, as it was wrapped around them tightly.

The humming disappeared promptly and was replaced by a firm, "Hey!" accompanied by some shuffling next to you. In almost as much surprise as fear, you looked up at the source of the voice, glancing into a nearly as perplex face as your own. Your own expression must have been getting visibly uncomfortable, and you felt the tears shoot up into your eyes as you looked into the grey ones of the creature.

"Oh, did I upset you? Don't do that, don't release water from your eyes… Come on, I patched you up nicely, oh, please don't look at me like that…"

Pulling itself closer to where your body was, the creature needed to claw its hands into the sand and push its body off to move forward. It wasn't a nice view to observe for you, and it seemed to take its toll on the creature too. You weren't sure if it was actual sweat - or if the beast was just wet in general - that seemed to drip from its body, but you had other things to worry about.

There was no way you'd feel sorry for flinching as it reached out its claws towards you, trying to take your hand in its. But it pushed on, and eventually, you complied to its wishes. Maybe it was your survival instinct setting in, not wanting to upset it and risk your head. Its touch was… tender. Almost soft. Perhaps because you couldn't feel its skin against yours really because of the seaweed, but it worked with careful touches.

From the very close up you had of its fingers now, you found them to be more human than you had initially thought. Their ends were claw-like nails, but the joints seemed proportional to its body, just generally a little longer than human ones. In your previous fear, your mind must have exaggerated its build too, making you wonder now that it was close. Yes, its whole body construct was big, but at least the human half was that of a tall man at most and seemed less scary now that you could properly see it.

Shooting a small glance behind it, you mustered its tail. Even though you were a good few feets away from the water, you couldn't see the end of it before it got swallowed underwater. You couldn't even make out where it was supposed to end, though for a moment you were mesmerized by it's beautiful red scales, sparkling even without sun rays clashing on them and changing color slightly when the tail moved.

"That's not right…" you mumbled, feeling the pressure on your hand as the creature tightened the seaweed around it again, making a knot. "Hm?" it hummed. You hadn't noticed before, but its voice was irresistibly melodic. Even the smallest gasp sounded like a full orchestra going off in the back of your head, something you had never even experienced in your life before.

After being content with its doings it followed your gaze behind itself, letting its eyes brush over its own tail. You heard the splashing of water as a large fin erupted from it, further down in the ocean. Losing the control of your own jaw, your mouth dropped open as you stared at the full length of its body, while the creature's brows furrowed. "What's not right?" it asked in confusion. "Something wrong with my tail?"

You attention shifted back to its face, its eyes following yours soon after and meeting your gaze. A toothy grin crept over its lips, revealing some very sharp, pointy teeth. Slowly but surely, your mind began piecing things together. The tail, the claws, the immense size of the whole being. The piercing beauty, the beautiful voice, and if you saw that entirely right - gills at the side of its chest. "A mermaid," you mouthed, your voice so small, you thought you had lost it.

"Well, to be technically correct it's merman."

"What."

"What?"

Shaking your head a little as you tried to process what you had just heard, you gave your damn best to understand the situation you were in. Coming from what it said it not only understood you very well, it also was an intelligent being, able to hold a conversation. "Merman, is that not the right term?" it asked. Concern washed over its face as you kept looking at it flabbergasted. "Did you hit your head too? Should I have a look-"

Reaching out its hand, it wanted to place it behind your head to push you forward to have a better view at the back of your head, though, in a second of panic, you slapped its claw away, croaking, "Don't! It will hurt!" Instinctively your own hand came up to your side, being greeted with more slimy feeling and moving things from your touch and under your shirt. Confused you lifted the hem, only to be greeted with more seaweed and the same green goo as before.

At first, you didn't notice how the creature seemingly took a 'step' back, giving you more room, until you looked up. It seemed shocked, holding its hand in the other large one and you feared for the worst. Now you had gone and made it upset. "If you don't let me see, I can't determine if you are hurt, turn around then, will you?"

By now there were no words that could explain your perplexion anymore, and out of sheer fear that still lingered in your body, you did as it instructed, turning your back to it so it could see whatever it wanted to see. Only after you had turned you realized your grave mistake of turning your back to a predator who could easily bring you down if it wanted to. But instead, you felt it's hand come up against the back of your head once more, pushing away hair to inspect it better.

It had stopped talking, and though you didn't mind the silence per se, it was unnerving to have it touch you while being quiet. "So… Merman, huh…" you finally picked up your words. "Ah, yes." Immediately, its voice chimed up again, pleasantly, like the ringing of a bell. "It's the name you gave us though. I mean you - the humans. We don't call ourselves that."

"Strange," you mumbled. "What do you call yourself then?"

Behind you, a chuckle erupted from the creature's throat. For the first time, it didn't sound human or pleasant at all. For the first time it was animalistic. "You wouldn't be able to speak that, human," it purred, its fingers still creeping around over the back of your head and pushing into it sometimes, presumably to see how stable your skull was. "Why not?" you asked, genuinely curious. You flinched as the creature let out a shrill, high-pitched sound, scaring you. "That's what we call ourselves."

"Yeah…" you laughed nervously. "I can't say that." The creature gave an understanding but thoughtful hum. "Don't blame yourself. You're just not built for that." Its claw came up to your throat, tapping against your skin to mark its own words. "You lack some of those… Oh, what do you call them?"

"Vocal cords?"

"Vocal cords, yes~" It seemed pleased with that answer. While it kept inspecting your head, your eyes nervously scouted from side to side. You could probably outrun it, you had witnessed it slowing down on land before. If only you could get up fast enough, there was no way it could follow you into the forest. Some part of you was still in denial because after all you had witnessed, that just couldn't be happening. Mermaids - or merman - were not real after all, right? They were just fairytales to keep sailors away from dangerous cliffs they might crash into… Right?

But no matter how much you tried to convince yourself that it was all a fantasy, the feeling of its hands against your body was real and it still seemed to be able to grasp you well enough if you by any chance messed up your only chance to flee. Your own thoughts were harshly disrupted by a loud rumble from your stomach. Even though you were in a panic, your body apparently had already come clean with the situation. Or this was just a reminder that you had no energy to flee anyhow.

"What was that?" It asked, peaking around your side to inspect your front. "M-My stomach," you admitted meekly. "Are you hungry?" Eyes shooting up to meet yours, it gave you a small smile. There was no way you'd expose your own weakness to it, so you bit your lip, avoiding its gaze. You could feel its eyes linger, before it slowly backed up again, giving some more final pushes to your head. "That seems fine," it let you know.

You heard the noise of it moving away again, scales rubbing over the beach and raising your head, you could watch it awkwardly crawl back to the water. There was a small, pleased sigh that left its lips as it sunk back waist-deep into the ocean. Turning back to you, it propped its head on his hand, elbows in the sand. "So you were trying to hunt back then when you were standing in the water?" It asked, eyes fixating on you while a smile danced over its lips. You only huffed, feeling as if it was making fun of you.

"And if I was, what is it to you?"

"Oh, no," it waved a hand dismissively into your direction. "I think you did great. You just lacked the exercise." Laying its arms down in the sand and putting its head on top of them, it seemed to look you over. "But that wound is bad, I guess it can't be helped." Shooting up only to sink right back into the water, you heard something sounding like a giggle coming from it. "Fear not, human! For I, the great Julian, will help you!" It gave you another toothy grin before it added a small, "Be right back!" and ducked into the water.

You could only stare on in disbelief as you saw the tail end rise out of the water and then vanish into the deeper areas. As if the situation wasn't weird enough, now it seemed you had found someone - or something - to take pity on you. Normally, you would have been glad if someone had taken care of you like that, but your distrust of the creature was too big to let you think more rational of the situation. Snapping out of your thoughts you realized now was the perfect time to get away. Looking around frantically you searched for your stick, seeing the branch lying a few feet away from you close to the rim of the water.

Carefully, you turned over onto your legs and hands, trying to ignore the squishing of the seaweed all on your body and crawled to the branch, picking it up. It was far but yet you were so close to the freedom, you even accepted the burn in your whole body because of your movement. But when you were finally in reach of the wood, a big, wet claw laid over your hand. With shock in your face, you looked up at the creature's face. You were faced with a worried expression as it shook its head. "You shouldn't stand up, you will only get worse from moving too much."

Its eyes shooted down to the branch, inspecting it. They suddenly began to widen as the realization dawned on it, its head snapping back at you. All of a sudden they were much darker, and much feral too. "Did you want to… defend yourself?" For a second you found it strange that it would come to this conclusion, but then you realized that you had made the branch a weapon.

All you could do was stare back at it, both pairs of eyes meeting each other in silence. "I can't trust you," you stated, though your voice was slim, stricken with fear that you didn't want to show. Pulling back its hand, it muttered a small "Right," driving back into the water behind it. If not for you not believing that it really understood your reasoning, you thought you saw sadness in the gleam of its eyes. For a few moments, it ducked away into the ocean, only eyes and hair remaining at the surface, before it shot up again, letting out a gasp. "Food!" it announced, a smile on its lips, though you noticed that its eyes didn't seem as happy as it tried to give itself.

Before you landed two decently sized fishes, or at least what was left of them. Their heads had been severed, and you didn't want to know why exactly. You glanced nervously between the fish bodies and the sea creature up and down. 'Julian' only smiled and nodded encouragingly. "Thanks…" you muttered, picking the bodies up. Your eyes shoot back to the stick, then to Julian who seemed to follow your gaze. Its smile had faded when it saw you looking at the branch, but upon noticing your stare, it quickly perked the corners of its lips up.

Though you had a hard time crawling back to the fire with the two fish in your one hand and them also repeatedly slipping out of your wet, seaweed grasp, you managed somehow. Julian just followed you back to the fireplace, still submerged in the water and keeping its distance. For the first time, you noticed that the fire was out, though you were sure it had still been on by the time you had tried to fish yourself. "You're not going to relight that, are you?" For a split second, you thought to see disgust hush over the merman's face, though it was replaced by concern soon after.

"Yes, I will. I can't eat the fish raw." It hummed thoughtfully, laying down on the sand again, though with a noticeable distance to the fireplace. "But first I need to take these off…" you mumbled, again pulling at the seaweed bandages around your hand. There was another audible gasp from Julian which gained your attention. "But how will it heal if you keep taking it off!" You must have looked really confused and startled by him, causing him to back down again from his jumped-up position.

"What do you mean?" you asked, vaguely realizing what he could be saying. "You keep taking the seaweed off, but it's supposed to heal your wounds! I had to redo the one on your side for a few times now because you keep throwing it off and away!" The creature sounded genuinely upset about what you were doing, and it actually made you feel a bit bad about being so careless with its efforts.

"Wait," you said, your voice finally having its usual strength behind it. Furrowing your brows you gave it a stern look. "Are you saying that it was you who kept wrapping me in this damn, puke-green weed?" Surprised by your raised voice, Julian withdrew himself from you, something that caught your attention, as he obviously was the more dangerous of you two.

"I mean, what should I have done otherwise? Let you die?" it defended itself, averting its eyes. Opening your mouth you wanted to say something back, but you couldn't actually come up with a remark fast enough. "Listen," the creature spoke up, crawling back further on land. It seemed very serious again, its face wrinkling. "I understand you can't trust me, but I fished you out of the waters back when those big, brown… things were fighting."

It seemed unsure about what to say for a second, biting its lips thoughtfully. "Seaweed helps, okay?" You felt yourself get a headache with all the small pieces that Julian was throwing at you. Not only had he been your nightly visitor and probably deposit all the seaweed close to the shore before, he had also been the reason that you were on this patch of earth now? "I… I didn't get swept up here? After I fell off that boat, I mean…"

Holding your head, you were a little thankful for the cooling of the seaweed, a headache spreading fast. "No…" it mumbled, glancing up at you through its eyelashes shyly. "How… How far from here was it? Where you found me?" After thinking for a second, Julian shook its head slowly and then more expressively. "I can't tell, your measurements are not something I can use in the water."

"I see…" you muttered, turning your attention back to your hands. "But I need a good grip on the wood to start a fire. Can I just… take them off for now?" you asked him. Admittedly, he didn't seem content with the idea, but he begrudgingly agreed. "Here, let me…" he offered, and this time, you didn't mind putting your hand into his as much as before.

[neen-writes]

Iron Legends: Reforged -- Chapter 17

Series: Fairy Tail

Characters: Gajeel, Levy, plus appearances from Natsu and Lucy.

Genre: Hurt/comfort, Sci-fi

Summary: The old lab had always been fuel for a good story, something you would half-heartedly joke about going to sometime.  Some did, and when they came back they never talked about it again.  The legends circulated, telling of ghosts, monsters, and anything else someone would be likely to conjure up about an abandoned building.  But even with all the stories meant to keep everyone away, there are still those for whom the intrigue is too tempting.  

Read the Reforged chapters on FFnet here, Ao3 here, and read the entire original story here!!  AND find this fic’s soundtrack here!  

Ko-fi

Note: This one took me a while.  I didn’t know what to change, what to alter aside from trying to make it clearer and up the emotional aspect.  This is the climax of the story and I have never second guessed all the things that happened here, this is what I wanted it to be.  So there wasn’t a while lot to change, mostly just clean up.  I hope yall enjoy!

Ch. 1  Ch. 2  Ch. 3  Ch. 4 Ch. 5 Ch. 6 Ch. 7 Ch. 8 Ch. 9 Ch.10 Ch. 11 Ch. 12 Ch. 13 Ch. 14 Ch. 15 Ch. 16

Cold, dark, and unrelenting.  The dragon did his best to refrain from senses, they only slowed him down.  The pain was constant, sharpening in intervals that shot down his throat and into his chest, seizing his haggard breaths.  The adrenaline did well to keep him moving through it, the corners of his vision blurred to only leave the dead center in focus.  Nowhere to look but forward.  Gajeel wheezed heavily, and slumped against a wall.  His head rolled back and he tried to take a deeper breath, to steady himself.  He gathered the scent of smoke, metal, and the other subjects.  But not what he was looking for.

This power was draining, and it was starting to wear away at him.  He knew it would and he planned for this, but still.  He needed to act quickly if he was going to get her out of this.  The roars would take their toll later when his drive wore off, but for now he was riding the rage, and it kept him going forward, even if he had slowed down.

Gajeel’s stunt had knocked out the power so spectacularly, sending explosions through the ventilation shafts of half the facility, that it subsequently opened every cell in the facility.  Every power backup failed in the wake of the surge.  The sounds of chaos slowly building below was all he needed to know that they had made their choices, just as they had done before.  And they chose freedom, and violence.  

There was a sudden chill, and he felt his hair prickle and stand up with static.  Immediately after, a second cataclysmic boom rocked the facility and he heard him roar.  A small smirk tugged at his lips, before a chill of a different kind settled over him and completely distracted him.

The smell of fear.

The shadows that accompanied him whipped, and his teeth grit painfully.  Gajeel heaved off the wall and his glazed eyes focused behind him, looking for blue.  What he found instead was an annoyance and a mere obstacle keeping him from what mattered.  The guards stood, feigning a unified front, but he knew how this would go.  Even with their weapons, they were only human, and Gajeel was more now than he had been the last time they faced this way.

With a snarl he stomped towards the armed, but definitely fearful men that were somehow supposed to stop or kill him.  Neither was going to happen–not this time–as he swung an arm, slashing out his shadows to slam the small group all at once into the wall with such force that they crumpled to useless heaps on the floor.  A single move, a single black wave.  Definitely more now than he was before.

Immediately Gajeel swung his fist into the wall with a snarl, trying to calm the desire to do more than knock them out.  The beast in his thoughts raged, bellowed, and demanded more control than it was being afforded.  It threw itself against the walls of the mental cage he tried to keep it in, and the more time that passed the more he could feel it damage those walls.  He hunched forward, hissing through his sharp teeth as the shadows wrapped around him, staying him from ripping out their throats.

After several tense moments, he took another sniff, but still couldn’t pick up what he sought out.  Not over everything else; there was too much and now he found himself wondering if he could find her in the chaos at all.  Doubts aside, his only choice was to keep moving and to pray he got to her in time.  Either before the monster in his head broke through, or before he collapsed.  

A blast of hot air hit him from a split pipe above, and as he crept around a corner, he finally picked up on two scents.  The first, he knew.  Even if the smell of lavender was gone, he knew her smell.  And, agonizingly, he knew the smell of her blood.  That alone was enough to send him over the edge, but it was the scent that accompanied hers that nearly threw him into oblivion.  Gajeel violently bit out a snarl and slammed extra force into his steps as he lurched forward into a run.  His gut twisted, and he balled his fists, shadowed iron scales all but prickling over his skin.

“Rogue!” he wheezed harshly, barely sounding like himself.

The scent of the shadow user mingled with hers, and the emotions he felt all blurred together.  He was terrified, furious, but most of all: desperate.  Was she dead?  Rogue had already nearly killed her once, and Gajeel had only just gotten her back, in a way.  He couldn’t have her torn away a single time more or he might not survive it. 

Gajeel slid around another corner, forced to come to a halt to avoid something bursting up from the floor below.  His arms lifted to shield his face from debris, and peered through the gap between his arms to see sparks of gold within.  Yellow eyes swung to fix on him, glowing through the dark piercingly.

The iron dragon tensed, ready to face off with the volatile, unpredictable subject, but no attack came.  Instead, he heard his voice.  “I know where he is…” he spoke hoarsely, a deadly calm in his tone.

Gajeel paused, weighing his priorities.  If Jose’s greatest lackey had found her already, then finding him was his best chance of finding her.  As dangerous as this subject was, Gajeel’s only choice was to follow him in unspoken camaraderie against the evil that had created them.  He knew how badly this man wanted to kill the scientist, maybe more than Gajeel himself.  But it couldn’t happen that way, especially not if Levy was there, or if he knew where she was.  “Give me five minutes.  With him.”

The other man was quiet for a moment, angry sparks flying off of his flesh, until understanding finally won out over his rage.  “Five minutes.”

“Rogue…”  Levy gasped, her body slumping with defeat.  She was so tired.  So very tired, and the life draining from her right shoulder weighed her down and started pulling the fight she had left with it.  She could deal with Jose.  Jose was only human and too proud for his own good.  She had a hope of facing off with Jose and his ego.  But this… him…

Still, Levy fell back a step as he advanced.  But it was tentative, and his face was different.  It was frightened, his breaths were fast and uneven, and his eyes constantly flicked away from her to check their surroundings.  He didn’t look like the empty, obedient, deadly focused subject that attacked her with such precision before.

“Don’t run,” he said firmly, but she could hear some semblance of self in his tone.  It wasn’t blank as it had been before, it almost sounded like he was begging her not to.  Rather than ordering to, as he easily could.  

Levy’s instincts still forced her back, and as if in response to his presence, a sharp pain ignited in her shoulder.  Impatient, and unwilling to wait for the frightened girl to calm, Rogue finally moved forward quickly, closing the distance between them and took hold of her good shoulder.  Levy went stiff, a pleading on her face directed up at the man as all she could do now was silently beg for him to let her live.

“My brother,” Rogue finally said, a waver in his voice that stifled her panic as her eyes went wide.  “I need to find my brother, before they… before I lose myself again,”  Rogue trailed off and Levy was reminded suddenly of what they were.  They were people who had lives torn away from them, and they had those they cared about.  Through her panic she finally recalled everything she had read, how Jose used the brothers against one another.  How she wondered what was stolen from all the others to get them to comply.  Just as she had been stolen from Gajeel.  “I can’t… I can’t, if I see Jose I’ll…”  Rogue shut his eyes suddenly and released her, shaking his head to fight off something she couldn’t see.  “I need my brother.”

Levy understood then.  He barely had a grasp on himself, brainwashing of that level was not going to be removed in an hour.  However, without the presence of the one that controlled him, and with the possibility of getting something that important, it allowed him to break through, just enough.   “They’ve kept you from him?” Levy finally asked, carefully.

Rogue nodded slowly.  “I haven’t seen him,” he paused, furrowing his brow to try and remember, but he gave up with a shake of his head, “in a long time.  They let me hear him, to know he is alive.  So I know if I fail, if I disobey, they will hurt him.  I don’t know what he looks like now.”

Levy had nothing to say, but what she felt was familiar.  She had felt it many times before with Gajeel.  Where he had told her something, more casually than she could wrap her head around, and it absolutely floored her.  For Rogue, and what had also been taken from him, her heart broke.

Even with nothing from her, he continued to speak, and she could feel his sense of urgency grow.  “X777… Gajeel, I can take you to him.” Levy started, her heart jumping into her throat when he spoke his name.  “He’s the one the conditioning never reached.  He’s our way out,” he added.  “He’s yours, right?”  The ambiguity of the question took her a moment, but knowing who else was in the halls hunting either of them, she nodded.  The male inhaled, and turned to look behind him, wordlessly indicating their direction.  

Having no other option, she moved to follow him.  “This floor has the arena, as well as the research labs.  The floor below us is holding… above is the infirmary and offices.”  Rogue thought aloud, trying to remember the layout the best he could as much as he was trying to tell her where they were.

Levy opened her mouth to speak, when a shattering boom and the same unfamiliar roar echoed beneath them, knocking her off her feet with a cry of pain.  Cracks shot up the walls around them, and the flashing alarm lights suddenly became blindingly bright as the air shifted around them.  She could see Rogue whip around with wide eyes and look as though he had picked up a scent in the air, but it was hard to tell.  The hairs on the back of her neck prickled, and with a loud snap the panic lights died and the alarm silenced.  The only sound left was the steady rumble of the struggling structure, with screams and slams echoing from somewhere around them.

Plunged into complete darkness, Levy felt her heart begin to race and the urgency of the situation settled on her again.  “Rogue?” she called into the dark, but nothing answered her.  Levy pulled herself to her feet shakily and took a few steps forward, reaching blindly into the dark.  “Rogue!” Levy called a little louder, flinching when another explosion rattled the ground beneath her feet.  

Her first thought was that he had fled, and the next thought was what had he fled from?  She had heard that roar twice, and both times the men she found herself with had looked like they wanted to climb out of their skin.

Levy moved backwards a few steps, whirling with the pipe in her hand to the darkness behind her.  She looked in every direction, trying to follow the noises to figure out which way the halls faced, but her senses failed her.  The fear started to build again, and she did her best to swallow it down, trying to shake the burning sensation from her eyes.  Because now was not the time.

The blunette steeled herself in the dark, held her pipe out in front of her, and started to walk.  Once it hit the wall, she was able to turn and use that as a guide.  The sounds in the facility were becoming more and more terrible, and the uneasy prickle on her neck wouldn’t go away.  It was desperate enough to think she could get out of here when she could see, but now that there was nothing to aide her, it seemed all but hopeless.

“JOSE!”

The roar bellowed through the halls, and her heart leapt into her throat.  It echoed all around her, and she couldn’t pinpoint where it even came from.  She knew that voice.  She would know that voice anywhere.  It was distant, and after a moment she picked a direction and kept her hand on the wall to guide her and move as quickly as she could.  

The sound of something being demolished followed.

Gajeel’s fist trembled, shaking off pieces of debris from the destruction to his right.  The white light, originating from Sting’s fingertips, fell upon him and also illuminated the slimy, terrible man whose skull was still infuriatingly intact.  He had lost Rogue’s scent as quickly as he had found it, but Levy’s was still very much present.  He could pick up traces with Jose’s scent, and the blood on his hands was enough to slowly pick the lock containing the monster in his head.  Her blood, and her smell, were the only parts of her present.

Jose hadn’t been his priority, for once.  Levy was at the top of his list, especially with time limited.  Five minutes with Jose should have been all the time he needed to get Levy back.  He hadn’t expected the other subject to agree, but he wouldn’t question it or risk setting him off.   

But after all that, here they were.  Without Levy.  And he was no closer to knowing where she was.

Jose turned, and the look on his face, in any other situation, would have been overwhelmingly satisfying.  The color was gone from his features, and he was a deer in headlights looking over his shoulder at the man that had made his own doorway into the room.  His hands were poised over a mess of papers on the desk, light provided by the blank-faced blonde that had faced Gajeel multiple times in the arena.  The walls of the room were lined with multiple fume hoods, and Gajeel could only guess that this was the hub of their ongoing research.  And where every valuable piece of data was for him, it was pathetic that in all this, he made it a priority to come here first, to save his precious work.

“God damnit, Sting, what the hell are you doing!”  Gajeel hissed, but the words did not hit their mark.  There was a flicker in Sting’s eyes, but nothing much more.  Even after all this, when freedom was again in their reach, he wouldn’t disobey the scientist and could not break through the conditioning.

“G-G-Gajeel,” the previous confidence, the assuredness of a man who had the upper hand, was gone.  His voice cracked, his hands shook, and his eyes constantly moved from Gajeel to Sting.  “I am sure there is s-something we can—“

“Where is she?”  Gajeel rumbled, his question punctuated with another explosion elsewhere in the facility.  “Fucker, I smell her all over you.  Where is she?!” he snarled like a rabid animal, flashing sharp teeth.

Jose’s mouth hung open uselessly, completely at a loss on how to answer him as an entirely new revelation rocked through him.  

He knew.  He knew she was still alive, and the reveal of the information had not happened in a way that would be even the least bit advantageous to him.  So what, if anything, could he say to the furious dragon?  He lost the girl, but he also had her blood on his hands.  Was she dead or alive in the crumbling halls?  Had she bled out by now after he tore open her stitches?   “I-I don’t have her.”  The wrong answer, definitely the wrong answer, because the unspoken meaning was ‘I lost her.’  He could see the shadows gather onto Gajeel’s face, and unwittingly, the light guttered around Sting for just a moment.

The scientist inched behind his only protection, the desperation on his face giving himself away to the fact that he was grasping at straws and didn’t have a single plan of action.  Anticipating the tense situation to break at any second, Sting widened his stance and lifted his glowing fists in front of him defensively.

Jose’s answer did not sit well with the iron dragon in any respect, because it meant that she was out there, in danger, or worse.  And it was Jose’s fault.  Gajeel tensed and straightened a bit, his shadows swirling right up around him in a quick flourish.  He started to growl, but it turned into a gargle and he coughed harshly, the shadows flickering away for just a moment.  Gajeel staggered, but regained himself quickly, even with a trail of blood running down the corner of his mouth that he hastily wiped away with the back of his hand.

Sensing the slightest bit of weakness, Jose forced a small laugh, “You can’t keep that up.”  He tried, desperately, to pull together some composure to talk down the other dragon.  Because in a fight with a clear-headed Gajeel against Sting, he knew who would win.  Conditioning be damned, only one other suspect was consistently stronger than X777.  So Jose had no other choice than to try and manipulate him out of a fight.  “She wouldn’t want you to be this way, would she?  She had so much to say about what she thought you could be,” he smirked, feebly.  She may not be here but it didn’t mean he couldn’t try to do what he initially intended to with her.  

“She ain’t here,” Gajeel replied in a cold tone that wiped the smile right off Jose’s face.  “An’ as I see it, you’re to blame.”  At that moment, a form emerged from behind him, matching and even exceeding his bulk.  Yellow sparks flew off the man’s body, and the scientist’s horror was palpable enough that it nearly took over Gajeel’s senses.  The predator inside him screeched, begging to tear into his flesh when he was most vulnerable.

“The halls are clear,” the newcomer growled.

“Y-Y-Y-You!” Jose nearly fell backwards, clutching his research to his chest as though it would somehow provide salvation.  Every bit of his feigned composure was gone in a second and he looked like he might soil himself.  This was over, there was no talking his way out of it now.  He had only one option left.  “S-Sting!  Eliminate him!  I ORDER you!” the scientist shouted, and the light user raised his hands, white light growing around his fists.  “Kill them both or your brother dies!!”

Sting leaned forward to follow his orders, but Gajeel made the first move and rushed faster than his opponent had seen him move before.  His visage, surrounded by shadows, struck pure, instinctive fear into Sting, despite the conditioning.  A look of surprise broke the composed visage, and with a yelp Jose staggered backwards as a flash of white signaled their collision.  Sting slid backwards several feet, eyes wide as he kept his steaming forearms crossed in front of him.  Gajeel’s fist had impacted right at the center.  

A frustrated snarl spread on his face, and Sting was just winding up to counter the assault when he stopped abruptly.  His light flickered, and his eyes went wide with more emotion than Gajeel had seen on the man’s face… ever.  

Slowly, his gaze moved to the side of the room, where movement had also caught Gajeel’s attention.  The scent followed, and his initial instinct was to fight, to go after him, but he stopped himself.  The reality, the true significance of the scene hit him immediately after, and Gajeel fixed his eyes back on Sting as he pulled his fist and backed away.  Even the lightning user stopped, waiting to see what would happen.

“Brother?”  Sting croaked, his voice dry and hoarse from lack of use.

The shadow user emerged into the ambient light, and without an ounce of hesitation Sting left Jose’s protection.  He fully stepped away from the man that had ruled his life, going straight for what he had thought would be lost to him forever.  Awareness lit Rogue’s features, accompanied by the yearning of someone who had just regained something long lost.  

With this development, a smile spread on Gajeel’s dark face, and a laugh finally shook him, growing slowly.  He turned his cruelly mirthful glare to the man who thought he could inch his way out the other door during the fight.  “Ya ain’t got nothin’ left.”  Jose was shaking visibly, exposed and abandoned.  He turned in a final attempt to leave out the other door, but stopped short.

“I thought I heard something goin’ on here,” Cobra’s smooth voice emerged from the dark, and Jose nearly tripped over his feet, backing away instinctively to gain distance from Cobra… which only put him closer to Gajeel and the sparking behemoth next to him.  “How interesting.”

“You all will listen to me!  There will be consequences for your disobedience!” Jose cried out, sputtered even.  He was hunched over the precious data held close to him, his gaze whipping back and forth between all the subjects, all of whom blocked his exits.

“I also think I heard all your staff fleeing the building.  Guess they finally learned we just aren’t worth it,”  Cobra added, smirking.  “No one is helping you this time, rat.  And you will pay for everything… everyone you took away from us.  All of us.”

Jose looked to Cobra blocking one exit, then to the twins standing side by side with eyes fixed accusingly on him.  Finally, his gaze settled on Gajeel, and the only subject more frightening and unstable than the iron dragon had ever been: Laxus.

Gajeel’s gradual signs of weakness brought no solace for the scientist, and he could only watch uselessly as both he and the lightning dragon approached Jose.  Gajeel threw a glance to Sting, and with the wordless exchange, his white light disappeared.  All that remained was the occasional flash of gold off Laxus.

Before Jose realized what was happening, something cold wrapped around his neck, lifting him off the ground.  The man choked out pitiful sounds of protest, clawing uselessly at the iron forearm, and in the flashes of gold he saw the face of the iron beast mere inches from his.  “We are going to destroy all of it,” Gajeel growled, barely audible.  “The data, the papers, and you with it.  No one will remember you, or your work.”  Jose choked, trying to speak, but the grip was too tight.  “I could snap your neck, or crush your skull,” he grasped the top of the scientists head with his free hand and squeezed painfully, claws digging into his scalp.  He squeezed tight enough for it to feel the bone might break, but not quite.  “But that’s all too quick.  For all ya did to her… for even fucking touching her.  For takin’ her away from me, for hurting her, scaring her, using her… I could, I should rip out your own guts and strangle ya with ‘em.” As quickly as he had befallen the scientist, Gajeel suddenly let go and dropped the man to the ground, backing away.  “But you’re right,” he finally added, breathing heavily, his breaths uneven, “Levy wouldn’t want me to.”

“Five minutes…” Laxus reminded, and Gajeel nodded.  Electricity buzzed in their ears, as Laxus moved forward to take Gajeel’s place.  “Good thing… there’s a line,” Laxus said threateningly.  Bright golden light filled the room, illuminating the scarred, chiseled face that bore years of torment and abuse.  Loosening his hold on his power, electricity flew off of him in waves and the structure felt the effects.  The lights in the ceiling came to life again, growing brighter and brighter until each bulb shattered one after the other, raining down glass upon the scientist who tried futilely to scoot away from the assailant.  Another boom nearby in the building inched Gajeel anxiously back towards the exit, but he needed to see this.  He needed to know it was done.   He could not question for one more day that it was over.

“Remember the conditioning…?” Laxus growled, his voice like thunder.  “Every time you had them dose us?  Every time you nearly killed us?”  Another heavy step in advance brought a terrified jump from Jose.  “How long you kept me in the basement… wired up, powering your work.  Locked away like a fucking generator?!” he finally roared, a bolt of lightning cracking the floor right in front of Jose.  

He scooted away as best as he could and looked pleadingly to the twins, his final hope for any semblance of their conditioning to save him.  Instead, the two watched silently with narrowed eyes, remaining close to one another, using each other to stay focused on their freedom.  In his attempts to keep moving away from what threatened his life, he was finally stopped when a heavy foot fell onto his shoulder.  Shuddering, Jose turned his head to look out of the corner of his eye to Cobra.

“Remember the people you used to control us?  The people you killed even after promising us they would be safe?  If we only obeyed?”  Erik hissed, a grimace on his face speaking of his own loss, “You couldn’t resist trying to make her like me, could you?” his tone dropped, miasma beginning to seep from his palms.  “This is for Kinana.”

Another pulse of the electricity signaled the end of the game.  Gajeel watched the scream rise, the view of the devil obstructed by the two subjects and the flash of Laxus’s lightning.  The smell that came next, of rust and iron and char, was unmistakable.  And it was the last thing he needed before he could leave, savoring every agonized scream that filled the halls after until they went utterly silent.

Smoke had started to fill the halls, and each distant blast made it harder for her to stay on her feet.  The weakness was very real by this point, and she had tried to pull on her bandages to keep them tight on her wound.  It helped a little, but not enough to make a difference by now.  She’d lost too much, and it would take her soon.

Still, Levy kept close to the wall, using it as her guide in the dark.  She had found nothing, and no one.  And since hearing Gajeel’s voice, there had been what seemed to be electricity in the air, even lighting up the halls again briefly before the lamps all blew out permanently.   All it did was worsen her dread, and her urgency to find a way out, to find anything.  

The sense of being trapped worsened with each minute, and as the smoke began to burn her throat, she could feel her resolve beginning to waver.   No, I need to find him.  I need to know he’s alright, Levy thought, pushing herself onwards.  As she progressed, and turned several corners, she started to see a light source grow in the halls.

She squinted, and after turning one more corner she could actually see around, she stopped short.  A massive, burnt hole had been blasted up through the hallway floor and directly through every floor above.  Had Levy come around the corner any faster she might have gone straight in, nd the billow of smoke was enough to force her arm over her mouth and nose.  The diameter alone was wide enough that it spread into the adjacent rooms the walls would have otherwise concealed.  Through the opened ceiling she could see the floor above them, and ultimately the source of her light: open air.  The red-black smoke funneled up, putting a damper on the skylight, but there was still enough that she could see better than before.

A billow of smoke suddenly grew from below, heat pushing her back just slightly.  She shut her eyes and kept her arm over her face, trying to keep out the acrid smoke, but the coughs wracked her regardless.  The pain followed, and she wavered on her feet.

Levy couldn’t say what prompted her to look up again, but across the opening, on the other side of the hall, she could barely see something through the smoke.  Were it not toxic, she would have gasped.  Instead her eyes widened and fixed on the silhouette of a shadowed creature hunched forward, focused on her.  Red eyes glowed like coals through the smoke, and tendrils of black started to creep through the smoke and around the hole in the floor.

Levy didn’t know what else the lab had conjured up, what other subjects had been released, but the creature she could see through the smoke was nothing but intimidating.  She shook, a wave of fear washing over her that subsequently brought enough of a sway to her stance that she lost her balance.  At the edge of her senses she heard an indecipherable shout rise above the chaos, but her eyes met only with the empty space where the ground had once been, opening up to swallow her.

The blunette had only just begun to feel gravity pull her in when a dark blur appeared in her line of sight and she was pulled back in the other direction.  Instinctively, and with nearly all she had left, she pushed sharply against whatever it was to try and save herself.  Her quick reaction threw the other being off just enough that she broke free, but fell backwards against the wall of the corridor.  She couldn’t bite back the cry of pain, and with tears starting to burn in her eyes, she weakly scooted away down the wall, but could barely manage more than a few inches of escape.  

She watched the shadow of the creature loom over her for a moment, claws held out to its sides, and knew all she could do was wait for the end.  She stood no chance against whatever else had been born within this lab if Jose still had control over them.  She had done all her body could manage, and it still hadn’t been enough.  Levy choked on a sob, and only one thought crossed her mind: “I’m sorry Gajeel…”

Levy shut her eyes tight and waited, but the pain never came.  Instead, she could sense the figure get closer, and finally heard a soft thud on the ground in front of her.  She cracked open an eye just in time to see him on his knees before she was suddenly drawn into something solid.  Whoever it was did it so carefully, despite the secure hold, that it did not aggravate her shoulder.

The woman inhaled quickly in surprise, and smelled the strong scent of metal mixed with the smoke.  Iron to be precise.  

That was all it took for realization to hit her with the force of a train.  The welling of emotions and the burning of tears all rushed forth at once and she felt herself buckle. “Ga-jeel…!” she coughed out, pressing her face into his chest.  It’s him, it’s him… I found him!

Over the ambient noise, Levy could hear him mumbling something to himself, and she felt him bury his face into her hair and breathe deep before he exhaled a long and shaky breath.  After a moment, she could make out his words.  

“You’re alive, you’re alive, you’re alive…” Over and over, making sure it was real.  That she was real, and not a fever dream born of desperation. Gajeel drilled each syllable into his head, lest he or the beast inside him forget for a second what mattered the most.  Jose had not won.  No, today had completely bested everything that evil man stood for.

Still, the smell of her blood assaulted his senses, and reluctantly he held her back to look at her.  The source of her bleeding was obvious and the sight made him sick.  She looked terrible: pale save the darkness around her eyes, weak, and cheeks stained with the tear lines drawn through a layer of soot.

Levy also had the chance to look him over, understanding now why she didn’t recognize him.  He had shifted into the iron form she would have otherwise known, but his eyes were like a dark night with a blood moon.  The shadows rippled across his hide enough to distort his silhouette, and his hair billowed around him as though alive.  The hands grasping her arms wielded worse claws than she had seen before, and looked so very different from the hands that had touched her in the past.  Shakily, she lifted a hand towards his face, but hesitated.  “Y-you’re…” She couldn’t find the words she needed, stunned nearly to silence.

Immediately he faltered, guilt taking over his face.  He had frightened her.  No, that wasn’t the right word: she was completely terrified.  She was afraid of him and he had seen it through the smoke before she had begun to fall.  It was a look on her face that brought back the worst in him, that reminded him that he was still a monster, and even worse now than he had been before.  All shadows, fangs, claws, and an animal’s demeanor to make him whole.  She had started to look at him like that in her kitchen, when she thought he might have been a murderer.  For all he knew she still thought that.  He had failed her in every way, how could she possibly have improved her opinion of him?

The thoughts were written plainly on his face, and Levy couldn’t take it.  She didn’t know how many more chances they had, or what would happen next.  She didn’t know what state she would be in if they got out, she didn’t even know how much longer she would be conscious, and she didn’t know if she would even wake back up again.  The seconds ticked awake and Levy had no idea many she had left.

“I love you,” the blunette blurted, urgently, terrified of losing her chance.  “And I am not afraid of you.”

Immediately, like she had wiped him clean, the shadows fell away from him and his black mane dropped to drape over his shoulders once again.  His body remained like iron, but his face finally looked more like himself.  Although, he looked like someone had thrown ice water directly in his face with the shock so evident on his features.

Gajeel was stunned.  The words, clear and unambiguous, blunt and straightforward, were unmistakable.  He couldn’t seek another meaning, he couldn’t say he had heard her wrong.  Levy had very clearly, very firmly, just told him she loved him.  That ethereal, beautiful, wonderful creature, even in her state, had told him she loved him.  And maybe she only said it because she thought she was dying, but she still said it to him.

Him.  Of all the people in the world she could have chosen to say that to, she said it to him.  Gajeel Redfox.  The monster in the dark, the dragon in the cave, the beast through the smoke.  He was none of those things to her and she loved him.  

His body moved on its own as he eased forward on his knees, his hands released her arms and he took hold of her face.  He remembered the night in her kitchen, when he had almost done this once before.  Before everything had gone so wrong, gotten so confused.  Gajeel paused to study her dirty face to try and remember what she had looked like in her house before this.  He allowed himself to feel the full effects of his relief that he had found her, how he had thought she was lost to him forever.  She had been dead to him, he thought he had watched her die in front of him, and here she was again.  Alive, warm.

The words caught in his throat, but he didn’t need them.  Without a second more of hesitation, he closed the space between them and pressed his lips against hers.  Levy’s hand balled up in the front of his tattered shirt, clinging to him like a lifeline.  He could feel every part of him, every dark, torn piece of the man he was, become new.  It didn’t matter that the world was crumbling around them.  Each movement of his lips on hers brought a rush and a heat to his chest that was completely unfamiliar, but wholly welcome.  He wouldn’t question himself, he wouldn’t question any part of it.  She loved him, and dear god he loved her.  Unequivocally.  Completely and consumingly, he was in love with her.  He had been from the moment she took his face in her hands and asked him to trust her, and he was finally allowing that to be true.  Gajeel had no fight left in him to deny that truth, that he had fallen so instantly in love with his savior.  It may have started as fierce dependency, but how quickly it had changed into something else.

After seconds that felt like hours, he felt her push against him and her grip suddenly dropped from his shirt.  His eyes snapped open at the change in her breathing just in time to feel her falling from him, completely limp.  Immediately his arms went around her waist, trying to prop her up and hold her to him.  

“Levy!”  Gajeel pleaded, but there was no response.  “No way, Shrimp!  You can’t pull this shit now, not after all this!” he shouted, scooping her up as he rose to his feet.  Gajeel looked down to the fragile creature he carried in his arms, her eyes shut as exhaustion and bloodloss finally tightened their hold on her.  But, she was breathing, that was all that mattered.  He would not lose her.

Gajeel raised his gaze to the hole in the ceiling, urgent determination taking over his features.

Outside was chaos, a mixture of both Hargeon officers and the handful of his own that had come to the site.  The entire group worked furiously to control the crowds, as well as receive panicked staff as they exited the building.  Every explosion from within and accompanying blast of heat forced them farther and farther back from the facility, and the smoke had begun to obscure much of their view of the facility.  

Entering Jupiter Technology was out of the question, as even the trained firemen deemed it too dangerous to enter, and chose instead to manage the destruction as best they could from outside.  

Waiting, searching every face that managed to find their way outside was agonizing for the chief.  He had never in his life felt so useless, and knowing that there were still innocent people inside was torture.  Every time someone else appeared and was ushered away to be treated and questioned, he felt his stomach sink more and more.  Every one of these people were lab personnel.  Levy was nowhere to be seen, and neither were any other potentially innocent individuals.

Until finally a different silhouette appeared from the smoke, steadily marching forward with labored steps.  This one wasn’t alone.  

A sea breeze brushed the smoke from their view, and a flash of blue sent Igneel’s heart into overtime.  “Levy!” he bellowed, immediately rushing towards the two despite protests from other officers, hand resting instinctively on the gun at his belt.  He knew for a fact that was her, but unusual sight of the iron-colored ‘man’ carrying her gave him pause.

He slid to a halt and unclipped the holster holding his weapon, threatening to pull it from his side.  What is he?! he thought.  “Hand over the girl and put your hands in the air!” Igneel ordered, his tone absolute and cutting clear through the sounds of chaos.  

The man carrying her slowly lifted his gaze from his cargo, scanning the uniform before meeting the eyes of the chief.  The police…  he thought weakly.  

Slowly, the iron scales began to recede from his skin, leaving Igneel to only watch in distracted awe for several moments.  The man of iron, slowly, became just a man.  Black char stained his form, and blood trickled from the corners of his mouth.  But even with this, Igneel suddenly recognized that face.  He had seen it many times before in the case files, and that mug and those piercings were unforgettable.  Gajeel Redfox.  One of the subjects, one of the people who had gone missing all those years ago was there in front of him.  But still, he had a hold on a very unconscious Levy, and he couldn’t be sure if this man was responsible for her state or a threat to anyone else.

“I said hand her over!” Igneel finally caught back up to himself, and ordered for the final time.  He was surprised to find an answer in the form of a small, but relieved smile on Gajeel’s face.

Gajeel’s knees finally buckled and he fell to the ground, but his secure grip on Levy did not waver.  “Take her…. she’s hurt,” he finally said with a hoarse voice, bringing a look of surprise to the chief’s face.  Finally Igneel saw the red staining her shoulder, and understood.  He released his hold on his weapon and immediately rushed to Gajeel, who carefully held the girl out to him.  “Help her,” he pleaded weakly.

“You both need medical attention,” Igneel pointed out, taking Levy as carefully as he could to hold her in the same manner.  “Come on, we need to get you both looked at.”

Astonishingly, Gajeel shook his head, and staggered back up to his feet with a gargled cough.  “The others,” he finally said, focusing on Levy.  She was outside, she was safe.  The nightmare was over for her.  “They’re still inside and I…” he trailed off, seeing the realization and immediate defiance appearing on Igneel’s face.  Gajeel couldn’t say another word more, or he would stop him.  Gritting his teeth, he fought through the fatigue and turned to trek back into the destruction.  

He could hear the chief shouting at his back, but with Levy in his arms, he couldn’t do anything to stop Gajeel from disappearing back inside.  

[thiefking]

What's the Two Looker theory?

the tldr version is that there are currently two lookers existing in the same universe, and that its going to be very relevant very soon.

but of course, that shortened version is worthless, because who would believe that without enthusiastic and lengthy elaboration? GET YOUR SEATBELTS ON CAUSE ITS TIME TO TALK POKEMON THEORY

(spoiler warning for sumo postgame ahead! also, seriously, you might want to go get a snack or something. this is long. really long.)

first up: you gotta know that gens 1-5 (and the remakes in those gens) are all in a separate but similar universe to the one in gen 6 and beyond. for convenience, ill call the first universe uni a and the second one uni b. 

(fyi most people refer to uni b as megaverse, but i want the names to match and nonmegaverse doesnt really... roll off the tongue quite as well, so,)

so you might be wondering what the fuck that means and how we know its true; to answer this we need to take a quick look at pokemons current timeline!

im unsure on which one of them came before the other in the timeline, but xy and oras both happen chronologically before sun and moon do. we know this because of dexio and sina appearing with the zygarde and mega evolution stuff, and wally appears at the battle tree as an older and more experienced trainer. 

these are canon, however for right now its mostly just hypothesis that chronologically speaking, after alola its sinnoh. the pkmn breeders from alola look IDENTICAL to the cowgirls/farmers from sinnoh, which doesnt seem to prove much about the order of things but it doesnt disprove anything either; its more like retrospective icing on the cake, since ill be explaining why i think this will be the timeline later on.

so, keep the idea of sinnoh coming after alola in mind. its also important to consider the idea of mega evolution as not just a game mechanic but an important plot point! basically, universe a has no mega evolution, while universe b does, and the differences in the plot between rse and oras are NOT retcons; theyre entirely different universes!

that might not look like it makes much sense on its own (without elaboration or if youre still attached to the belief that mega evo is JUST a game mechanic and not plot relevant or an indicator of anything) but its important to mention now, since as i explain more itll hopefully make more and more sense. 

believing this theory means you have to think about it like this, so while this isnt completely canon yet, its necessary to treat it like it is until you fully understand what this theory is all about and why it would make sense. if youre not convinced afterwards, then so be it! ... i mean, i dont understand how you WOULDNT be totally on board with this, but im not you and maybe youre not quite nearly as into spacetime shenanigans as i am.

now we head into sumos postgame stuff with the interpol! during this, we learn that there are people known as “fallers” that “fell” into a universe from another parallel universe through a mysterious portal, and seem to have lost most if not all of their memories. fallers attract ultra beasts, as the ubs believe they can somehow get home using them, sensing that this person is also not from this universe. 

looker explains that he was once sent on a mission to detain/kill an ultra beast. his team included a faller, who was unwittingly being used as bait for the ultra beast. looker felt pity for the ub and neglected to kill it, unfortunately giving the ub a chance to kill the faller, which it promptly took.

then its revealed that anabel is a faller, who was found washed up on a beach muttering something about protecting the battle tower, which is where you could find her in rse. 

but see, the battle tower doesnt exist in oras, instead replaced by the battle resort, and you do not meet anabel at any point in oras. the battle resort is also where you meet an amnesiac looker, muttering about a mission, speaking in a peculiar way, which is noticeably different to the way he speaks in xy and sumo. he did not make an appearance in rse, this isnt just reused dialogue.

hmmmmmmmm.

lets put looker aside for a moment though and focus on anabel. while theres a possibility that right now there are two anabels, it seems that she and the battle tower never existed in this universe... but mega evolution does. the anabel we see in rse is the same as the one in sumo; she crossed over from uni a into uni b.

now, lets look at some facts here!

in platinum, bw and oras, looker has a... peculiar speech pattern. if you look up his quotes on bulbapedia, youll see what i mean; its very noticeable.

... looker completely lacks that specific quirk in xy and sumo. hes goofy, yes, but its nowhere near the same. its important to note that oras happens between xy and sumo, and again, that looker didnt show up in rse and that dialogue is completely new. the differences in these speaking patterns are not mistakes. they are fully intentional.

next up: lets crush a few doubts about this theory you might be having right now!

“this is a kids game! surely this is WAY too convoluted. pokemon isnt that deep, they wouldnt bother with a plot this complicated.” wrong. nope. incorrect. buddy, did you play sumo or any gen 5 game? i can only assume you havent, cause not only were the plots in those games the most detailed and involved and emotional, they were BY FAR the best. additionally, kids are a lot smarter than youd think, and i also not only know theyre going to explain everything, i know HOW theyll do it; but i digress.

“youre implying there are two lookers because one speaks a certain way and had amnesia but isnt it possible theres just one, who either isnt a faller or is a faller but had no megaverse/uni b equivalent, and he got his memories back by the time you meet him in sumo?” wrong there too! remember, its CANON that xy and oras happen BEFORE sumo.

now remember anabel, who doesnt have her memories back and had no idea she was a faller.

and remember that xy/sumo looker is very, very explicitly stated to not be a faller, because otherwise, HE would have been the bait on that mission and HE would have been the one who got killed.

xy/sumo looker is definitely not a faller.

but dppt/bw/oras looker is.

if at this point youre still having doubts, heres a question. can you offer any other explanation that is all based on canon information, without retconning anything or making something up, and have it all make perfect sense and resolve all of the issues that come with going against this theory?

yeah, i cant either.

hopefully at this point you should be fairly convinced, but hold on! i still havent explained why i think sumo will chronologically happen before the plot in the dppt remakes! i was all like “this will make sense later” but i didnt talk about sinnoh much at all and havent completely gotten you on board with this yet! well guess what yall ITS SINNOH TIME

a quick note though: past this point is a lot of personal observation/opinion and speculation. its meant to explain why i think this theory is spot-on, and elaborate on what i think is going to happen. im not speaking for anyone else but myself and im not stating my own opinions as fact or concrete proof; though i am saying that i think im right about this.

with that out of the way, lets begin! its going to take a while, but the buildup is necessary (imo at least) and yes, this is in fact relevant to the theory.

something to notice is that the stories in pokemon games have been progressively getting more involved and interesting. there was hardly anything in the first two, gen 3 started getting more involved but its not much to write home about, gen 4 took it up a notch, and then gen 5 the life ruiner broke the fucking scale and punched me in the face.

so, we have all these plots, getting more detailed, but... not a whole lot is tying them together at first. sure, a few lines make reference to other games, johto and kanto are connected both plotwise and literally speaking, theres even that cameo character in bw who was a rocket grunt in a previous game! but theres nothing really significant that ties things together.

well, at least until gen 4.

in gen 4, we of course meet looker, who as a member of the interpol has reason to make further appearances in other games. and then he shows up in every game afterwards, sometimes for a while, sometimes only briefly. less significantly but it does help the point im about to make, we also get caitlins first appearance, who ends up being part of unovas elite 4, and johto is a part of gen 4 as well, which was already a point of connection between regions, but gen 4 added the sinjoh ruins, connecting the games within the same gen!

after gen 4, the games vary in how much they connect to the others, but it definitely changed the standard.

and then sun and moon came out.

even the very start of the game: you move from kanto to alola, meet alolan variations of kantonian pokemon, meet grimsley and colress from bw/bw2, meet dexio and sina from xy, and watch sadly as lillie breaks everyones heart and leaves for kanto.

then, after that, you can go to the battle tree and meet not only red and green, but cynthia, steven, and wally, and you can find grimsley, colress, dexio and sina here too. or, you can go participate in the postgame plot with looker and anabel, who are also returning characters; though anabel is significantly more unexpected than looker. it was pretty unexpected finding out caitlin was part of unovas elite four, huh?

and hey, didnt sinnoh have a lot of weird space/time shit? palkia and dialga are the gods of time and space, and giratina has a whole other dimension where everything seems wrong and alien and mildly uncomfortable, with a strange area theme that seems just slightly off, where you meet/battle the games biggest antagonist, who has become mentally unhinged by spending time there.

oh... and alola has fallers and ultra beasts, who came from other timelines/universes... and you go into ultra space, which is a whole other dimension where everything seems wrong and alien and mildly uncomfortable, with a strange area theme that seems just slightly off, where you meet/battle the games biggest antagonist, who has become mentally unhinged by spending time there.

plus, gen 4 is the first where you can at any point walk around with your pokemon behind you, making you feel closer to your pokemon than ever, and alola shows a significantly stronger connection between humans and pokemon than ever seen before, even compared to xys introduction of pokemon amie (the trials, ride pokemon, the fact that humans are specifically stated to have influenced several alolan variations, z moves, the ceremony for choosing your starter, everything about the aether foundation/type: null, if you consider ultra beasts pokemon then lusamines a very literal example, there are LOADS of examples)

... and diamond and pearl are next up for remakes.

in gen 7.

paired with alola.

i wonder if the two games are going to be EXTREMELY connected?

personally im willing to bet that the distortion world IS ultra space, i think itd make a lot of sense of cyrus knew what happened in alola and became interested because of it, and that team galactic will be pursuing ultra beasts (which there will likely be more of). 

i also think uni a!looker and uni b!looker are going to meet.

imagine with me for a moment.

diamond and pearl remakes come out. you enter jubilife city, where you meet looker! you have a conversation, he introduces himself, then disappears. 

you move on, and-- oh! theres looker again! you say hello, but he strangely doesnt recognize you and introduces himself again. ... odd.

you see him again. he recognizes you and references your first conversation, but doesnt seem to know anything about your second.

a fourth meeting. once again, he doesnt remember your previous conversation, and also seems to be doing something entirely different, and... hell, he doesnt even SOUND the same...

now, after a while of this, hes realizing somethings up. hes a fucking member of the interpol, hes goofy but hes not an idiot. he guesses that he has an impostor, and begins searching for this impostor so he can confront/apprehend them.

sometime later, maybe in the postgame, maybe in the maingame, you meet him again and have a short chat, when hes suddenly interrupted by a phone call. he hangs up and informs you that someone spotted his impostor, and speeds off to go deal with this. he doesnt tell you where hes going, but he didnt need to; you can easily guess from the phone call that you should head to jubilife city.

there, you see two lookers arguing with each other, and loads of shenanigans ensue because looker is so goofy and endearing theres no way its not going to be hilarious and silly at first; but then when everything calms down, shit gets serious, and anabel ends up showing up.

im willing to bet shes going to feel some kind of connection to uni a!looker; nothing specific, just an odd, unidentifiable feeling that... ah, it eludes her. strange indeed that he seems to also feel... something, that he cant identify at all; he just knows its there. is it... kinship of some kind? but that wouldnt make sense, theyre both certain theyve never met, and theyre certainly not related. how curious!

of course, that only remains a mystery until they figure out this other looker is a faller, and everything starts simultaneously making more and less sense.

of course thats all just my own prediction for how itll happen, but i dont think im far off base at all and i think itd be completely in line with both lookers character and how pokemon games operate.

now, a lot of people believe that this theory means one of the lookers has to die, and to that i say what. no. look, that “there can be only one” shit is completely unnecessary and i REALLY doubt that theyre going to kill off a looker, especially considering how much everyones grown to like him (or at least everyone ive ever spoken to who knows who he is. seriously, hes too lovable for this.)

instead, i think the following will happen!

1) the lookers partner up and work together (and tell people theyre just twins)

2) they find a way to send uni a!looker back to universe a, or somehow create a way to communicate/travel between universes

3) we learn more about what happened in universe a, and why both anabel and looker were mumbling vague things about urgent missions when they were found washed up on beaches

im not sure that all of these will happen in the same game (in fact i highly doubt it) but it seems like the logical progression of things. 

i think im out of things to say so there you go! thats the two looker theory and how i think itll play out in canon! there are likely a few things im missing, but im fairly certain the information i provided isnt incorrect, just possibly incomplete (sure hope not though cause ive been writing this response for no joke four hours straight). hope it helped and also converted you to the two looker theory club, or the tltc. if you join you get a free croagunk sticker and also a heart-shaped locket with a picture of looker in it if you dont already have your own