#every day i wake up and realise i have so many ros

[rotten-games]

How would the RO’s react if MC hid their child from them. Like never told them about them because they came from a one night stand or they broke up since then etc etc??

I assume this question is related to this ask. Anyway, to the answers.

Ardwen: He would utterly freak out about it. Knowing there’s a child involved when he starts the relationship is one thing, finding it out when he’s already involved feels like a breach he isn’t comfortable with. He isn’t fond of children, he’s not capable of looking after them. Just… give him time. But don’t expect it to be happily ever after unless you really work at it.

Arke: He’s mostly just surprised. Again, children are a lot but it isn’t a deal breaker to hide the child—he’s sure you have your reasons and who is he to judge them? Of course, he’d need some time to consider the prospect of a child much sooner into the relationship than he might be ready for one but… he can do it. Just give him time to process.

Bex: Bex always wanted children. Sure, perhaps this came along in a totally different way than he was expecting but his main goal is protecting you and your child. Everything else can wait.

Calyssa: More confusion from her. She’s neither ready not willing to have a child in this climate but she supposes life never waited for when anyone’s ready. So she’ll deal with it and try to understand instead—being a prick about it isn’t going to help. Let it be be said, however, that she isn’t comfortable finding out about this when she’s already in the relationship. It wouldn’t have changed her answer but there’s something to be said about trust.

Druvel: No. He would be afraid. Maybe he’s decent with children but he never asked to have one himself. He’d draw away for a few days, ask you just to give him space to think. It isn’t that he doesn’t like children, just that this wasn’t what he was expecting when he decided a relationship with you could be fun. He has to decide whether he’s truly invested or if it’s better just to cut and run because not knowing, not being told, feels uncomfortable at best.

Emil: more smothering of his own emotions. It is what it is, he has no right to really react a certain way and, really, if you’re happy he’s happy even if he has no idea how to interact with children. This would go on for quite a few days until he inevitably breaks down in a certain kind of way and just. Blurts out his concerns. He feels like this was put on him without warning, like he’s expected to just get over it like nothing is going to change between the two of you and maybe it won’t. But he can’t ignore a child. He can’t ignore the fact that they’re someone that requires attention he isn’t sure he’s prepared to give yet. Just give him some time and eventually he’ll calm down and realise he overthought his way into a breakdown. He’ll be fine.

Ettia: She’d simply have to accept it for what it is. Perhaps she already knew and thus had some time to come to terms with a child in the picture, perhaps not, but it doesn’t bother her. She won’t say she’s ready, per se, but she certainly isn’t going to kick up a fuss about it. Everyone has their reasons for doing what they do, after all.

Gwyn: Oh, he’d make many jokes but that would just be to hide his uncertainty. He isn’t sure how he should react when a child is in the picture, it certainly isn’t what he expected but maybe he should have. He’s a God, after all, he should have known. That would worry him more than the existence of a child to be honest, maybe he’s becoming more mortal than he thought.

Herron: Why, how, and when are all the questions you get from a very surprised Herron. He’d think that in the past five year’s he’d recognise it if MC had a child. After the initial shock has worn off he’d take a deep breath, take your hand, and express his utter confusion about the whole affair.

Keller: She’d ask if it’s okay to see the child, if they’re safe. She would try not to take heed of her own emotions, which are cautious at best. If a child’s involved, and she already loves you, all that matters is their safety.

Korrin: Perhaps they already knew, perhaps not, but either way they take it in stride. You had your reasons for hiding them just as they have their reasons for their own secrets. The only question here is whether they’ll ever tell theirs.

Lokeira: Don’t be concerned if he disappears for a few days after finding out. He needs time to prepare himself because he’s not a particularly good person with children. Eventually he’d wander back, probably looking a little nervous, and apologise for his sudden disappearing act. He never thought he’d be having a child in the first place but he never intended to leave over something that was so apart of you like a child. So. He’ll stay. If you’ll have him.

Necrolym: You have a child? And you never told him? He’d be kind of upset about it but not for the reasons you might think. He likes children and has always wanted a family of his own, with you he might have wanted to one day start one with you whether with children or with pets. This… this feels like he’s somehow an intruder, like the child won’t accept him—and he’s well aware that it is completely his own problem not your own.

Nox: Well, that’s less than ideal. She never planned on having any children but if that’s the way things are then guess she’s just going to have to step up. Caring is hard but she’s done enough of it by now to know when she’s legitimately invested in something. In someone. She doesn’t ask why you hid the child. It’s not her place.

Qora: First she’d ask exactly why you thought it was a good idea to hide the fact you have a child from your partner, but in time she’d soften. She wouldn’t know how to feel at first, mainly because Zora certainly can’t be around the child without a risk of hurting them, but that’s just something she’ll have to come to deal with.

Severa: For the first time in a long time Severa would have no idea what to say. At first she’d frown, then she’d go utterly slack, unable to voice her myriad thoughts. She never wanted children, least of all in times of strife, but the child isn’t hers and she’s already with you, so whether she likes it or not that’s how it’s going to be. She’ll be fine.

Spotter: More fear. They’re not comfortable with children. The child may be your own, and they may love you, but they’re totally out of their element here. Quietly, they’ll wonder why you hid the existence of the child from them, but ultimately would never ask.

[thesecrimsonstrings-if]

How would the ROs react to MC kissing them awake in the morning and telling them they're so beautiful they couldn't resist?

ronan bennett: this man sleeps like a tranquilized horse most of the time but the feeling of your lips on his is enough to wrench him out of his morpheus-like slumber. eyelashes flutter open and you're met with bleary brown eyes which turn warmer with each second spent looking at you.

“i wouldn't be opposed to being woken up like that again in the future,” he grins in his own goofy way, looking way too cute for someone who just woke up from a sleep that almost resembled a coma.

you pretend to think, tapping your finger on his chin. “depends on if you're going to return the gesture on occassions.”

ronnie's eyes light up even more if that was possible. he pulls you closer to him, nuzzling into your neck. you wish for mornings like this every time you close your eyes to sleep beside him. whatever the future might bring to you, all you wanted was the constant presence of your own personal sunshine by your side.

“as if i'd ever deny your wishes, love.”

célia dupont: hazel eyes open slowly at the feeling of a pair of soft lips pressed against hers for a second or two. kaleidoscopic pools of green and brown try to adjust to the light coming in from the window. however, it's not the sun that has célia's full attention in the next moment. it's you, leaning on your elbows and gazing at her like she was the most beautiful creature to ever walk the earth. infact, you'd personally endorse her to be so (if you can get away without aphrodite trying to strike you down).

“you come up with quite the romantic ideas to wake up a woman with,” she smiles, the remaining drowsiness mixing with happiness.

“only one of many, i assure you.” you give her a wink which earns you a laugh out of the heiress.

her finger trace along your upper arm, going further up to brush your shoulder, your neck and finally stopping at your chin. she leans in, determined to get a proper morning kiss and you're happy to comply with her wishes.

‘mon dieu chéri,’ célia thinks as you try to get her up to make breakfast together. ‘you have drawn stars around the scars of my heart and you don't even know it yet.’

s bakkoush: they did not expect it, not from you at least, but they were not complaining either. emerald gems flutter open to land themselves on your smiling figure. you had already made some breakfast and brought it to S while they were sleeping like they had no care in the world.

“a breakfast fit for royals, huh?” S wiggles their eyebrows, sitting up to lean on bed frame. “just what i needed after that sweet wake up call.”

you roll your eyes playfully. “then you better watch out for the french toast i made for you, so much sugar might just give you diabetes.”

“not if it's from you,” came the model's smooth reply before they kiss you, pulling away just in time before you had gotten the chance to kiss them back.

“lemme get freshened up, hobi. don't want the breakfast getting cold, do we?”

you groan, trying to stop them but they dance out of your reach. you hear them laugh, it's filled to the brim with joy that only erupts from the deepest part of the heart and soul. you would know that; where your soul ends, theirs begin and vice-versa.

i tachibana: at first, they think akhlut has decided to slobber all over their face this early in the morning. tachibana is soon spared from that experience when they realise that you were kissing them instead– the feeling of those lips would never slip their memory. you pull away quickly to see them already looking at you with their eyes wide open, inky black and loaded with surprise.

“well hello there, sleeping beauty,” you decide to open up the day with light teasing. as expected, the hunter's expression transforms immediately into an irritated scowl.

“it's too early to be dealing with you,” they groan, trying to pull a pillow over their head and get some more sleep.

you huff playfully, leaning in to give light kisses on their exposed cheek. in an instant, you feel an embarassed heat radiating off of them.

“y-you idiot! i didn't tell you to kiss my cheek!”

“aww, now i need permission to show my partner some well-deserved affection?” you poke their arm teasingly. “at any rate, you're so cute when you're blushing.”

the hunter throws the pillow they were holding at you, you let it hit your face as you double over laughing. an adorable pout takes over their lips, although you're sure that they aren't pouting on their own accord.

“out of every single person in the whole wide world,” they mumble, fiddling with the hem of their shirt, “my heart decided to choose the most annoying one.”

you had heard that, of course, your sharp hearing didn't abandon you. and it was all the more reason to laugh and tease them.

tachibana sighs as they mentally prepare themself for whatever you're going to come up with next, yet you can't deny that there is also a fondness in their eyes as they say, “what am i gonna do with you, idiot.”

[littlerockerao3]

Ooh 73 for the drabble thing if you want :)

Of course! Here it is!

73. “Is there a reason you’re naked in my bed?”

Trigger warning: nudity, but I guess that was obvious.

~~~~

Robb hates Summer. He hates that he constantly has to take a shower only to still be sweating three seconds later. He hates how ice cream melts in a heartbeat and it all drips along the cone and straight in his hand. He hates how he has to sleep with the window open just to let some breeze in the room but then, in the morning, the sunshine so bright and hot either wakes him up too early or ends up burning some part of his body: it happened once that he fell asleep and this ray of sunshine burnt half of his arm.

Now, as if all of this wasn’t enough, it’s fucking July and no month is hotter than July. If it was up to Robb, he’d stay home with his face in front of the fan for hours and hours. But it just so happens that he has a boyfriend who claims to see him every once in a while, but since his boyfriend is a total dickhead who loves Summer more than anything else in the world (Robb is one hundred per cent sure that is solely because he can show off his biceps) and there’s no fucking fan at his place.

That had led Robb to the only solution to survive such hot weather: lowering the blinds, undressing and lying on the bed. It does work, for a little: the pillow is cool, but he’ll have to turn it on the other side in a few, cause he feels his hair is sweating so hard it’s basically wet. But for now, it’s a nice feeling: Theon’s place is comfortable in the first place. More quiet. Cooler, cause Theon’s the only one living in here, Robb’s home is so full of people stuck with each other he’s sure that’s the reason why it’s so warm. He wishes he could live at Theon’s place forever, which is something that could actually happen at some point, cause Theon is trying to send him signals about it for days. Robb’s not even sure if Theon himself is sure of it, he just wishes he could say it as it is: “move in with me”. It’s not like Robb would refuse.

“Babe, you in there?” He hears Theon’s voice coming from the other side of the door. He’s early, he said he had to go to the store and grab a few things and that it would have taken him only five minutes, which equals two twenty-five minutes when it’s about Theon.

The door opens, “Ro-is there a reason you’re naked in my bed?”

Robb rolls his eyes, as he turns lightly to stare at his boyfriend’s amused face, “Now don’t act like you don’t like it”.

A smirk appears on Theon’s face, thick dark eyebrows raising. He makes his way to the bed, flip flops swatting against the floor, and lays down next to Robb, “Oh I do like it indeed”.

He swats a hand down on Robb’s ass, much like he was expecting, which is the only reason Robb doesn’t wince.

“Ouch” he still says, out of instinct. In response, Theon pats his bum one more time, gentler, then rests his hand on Robb’s lower back. “Oh we both now you can handle much more than that”.

It’s true, Robb can’t deny that, but he’s too tired to replay: warm weather makes his head hurt and Theon’s hand is so warm it makes him sweat even more. He realises he’d been keeping his eyes closed only when he opens them up the moment he feels Theon’s lips pressing a kiss to his neck.

“What is wrong, sexy?”

Robb sighs in return, “My brain, my whole body is boiling. It’s too hot” he whines.

“N’aaaw, my poor little abominable snowman doesn’t like Summer, does he?” Theon brushes his nose against Robb’s cheek, then proceeds to kiss his jaw.

“I freaking ha-what did you just call me?” Robb would like to ask Theon where he got the idea for that nickname, but it’s in that moment that Theon climbs on top of him, his skin touching Robb’s. Which translates into: more sweating.

“No don’t do that, it’s too hot for you to touch me” he cries, pushing Theon away. Though Theon is only wearing shorts and a white t-shirt Robb wonders how he doesn’t need to take a shower cause, for fuck’s sake, Robb just took a shower, he’s completely naked yet he does need another shower.

“Seriously, and then you make fun of me when it’s winter and I’m too cold” Theon huffs, feigning annoyance.

Robb bends his head a little to press a small weak kiss to his shoulder, “How do you handle summer without melting or frying?” He asks it as if he’s looking for the elixir of life.

Theon twists his finger along one of Robb’s auburn curls, “I swim a lot”, he says, “In fact, we should go swim, right now and cool off”.

“In your pool?” Robb doesn’t know why he’s asking, of course he meant his pool: that was like, number one reason why Theon bought this house in the first place, cause it had enough space for a pool.

“Yep” Theon says.

“But I’ll get sunburned” Robb whines, grabbing his boyfriend’s hand and caressing his long fingers with his own.

“Not if you put on sunscreen”.

“But I don’t have it here with me, and you’re a dickhead who doesn’t get sunburned because your skin tone is fucking amazing and you actually can sunbathe” Robb’s aware he sounds like a kid, but he doesn’t mind: he’s allowed to, sometimes. And it’s true, Theon does have an amazing skin tone and he’s a dickhead for that.

“I actually do have some sunscreen here” that statement causes Robb to frown in both confusion and surprise: Theon despises sunscreen, and he’s gonna regret that in a few years, but every time they go to the beach (not many times but still) and Robb tells him to put on some at least on his face, the answer he usually gets is a simple “fuck off”. That is why it’s so weird for Robb to know Theon has let some sunscreen in his home.

“You do?” he asks.

Theon rolls his eyes, a small blush making its way through his bony cheeks, “Yeah, just for you babe”.

The smile grows on Robb’s face without him trying to control it, “How thoughtful of you”.

Theon takes that as the opportunity to hide his blush behind a charming smirk, “I know right? I think I deserve a kiss”.

“More than one” Robb leans over so that his lips can touch Theon’s. He feels hands caressing his hips and lower back, til they make their way down to his ass. This time, when Theon pinches it, Robb does wince. “Ow! Stop it!” He exclaims, swatting Theon’s hands away.

Theon’s smile is just a few inches away from Robb’s mouth.

“Never” he says, then pulls him in for another kiss.

It’s Theon who pulls away first, this time: he gets up from the bed and slips inside his flip flops to grab the bottle of sunscreen from his drawer. It’s still wrapped in plastic.

“You know, I think you should stay naked” he says to Robb.

“Don’t you start” the redhead says in return: he knows that will only lead to Theon’s grabby hands not trying at all to control themselves.

“It’s not like anyone is going to see us anyway” Theons says, as he gets undressed too, only to slip inside a pair of red swim trunks, “Come on.”

Robb doesn’t know why he agrees on swimming naked while Theon is not going to be naked. Probably because he already knows those red trunks aren’t going to stay on for too long anyway. Oh well. He’s lucky enough the bush all around the house is high and no one is going to see his naked body, unless they’ll look out the top floors’ windows.

Theon’s grabby hand don’t waste time and show Robb how grabby they are right away, by applying much more sunscreen than necessary on his glutes and lower belly. Robb actually has to ask Theon to focus a little more on his shoulders and back, cause he’s been outside under the sun for five minutes and they’re burning already.

“There you go, now there’s no way you’re going to get sunburned, this is the sunscreen that’s usually used on little kids” Theon rubs the sunscreen over Robb’s cheeks and nose at last.

Robb eyes him up and down: his golden anklet is basically shining thanks to the contrast with his bronze skin, his brown eyes looks so warm. He’s just too gorgeous.

“I hate you, you have such a beautiful skin tone” he huffs.

Theon extends a hands to gently stroke Robb’s collarbone, “Mhm-hmm, I don’t have these lovely freckles though. Come on, let’s go”.

He jumps in the pool with a loud splash, drops of water lading all over Robb’s naked body. He better get going as well.

“Oh god this feels good” he almost moans, as he gets into the cold water of the pool.

“Told ya” Theon’s all over him in a second, hands on his waist, pressing him against the edge.

“Shut up”

“Make me”

Robb gladly starts that little make out session that ends with him pushing Theon away before it can turn into more than just a make out session. And that’s how Robb keeps swimming around while Theon sits on the pink flamingo float, saying that he should probably go inside and make them some drinks to drink by the pool, but still refusing to make a move.

“God, I wish I had a pool at my place, I’d swim in there every day” Robb says at some point, cause man Theon was right, swimming really does help you when it’s too hot.

Theon shrugs in response, “It wouldn’t be as relaxing, with all your siblings playing around” he claims, as a matter of fact. As he should, since he’s right.

“Goddamn you’re right” Robb runs a hand through his face: he loves his little siblings, but he’s getting older and he needs his own privacy, right now more than ever. He needs his own place.

It takes Theon a few bites of the inside of his cheek before he manages to talk again, “You can come here anytime you want, you know. Even every day is fine.”

There, these are the kinds of “signals” Robb was talking about: Theon telling him he can come over everyday, Theon telling him he knows were to go if he doesn’t feel like staying at home with all that chaos for one night. He never says it explicitly though.

Today might be the day. If Robb pushes him enough.

“Oh yeah?” he says, feigning curiosity, “What about when you’re at work?”

Theon shrugs, “You do have a spare key”.

“That’s supposed to be for emergency only”.

Theon huffs, “You were literally lying half dead, ass in the air, in my bed because of the weather, that does look like an emergency”.

He’s not looking at him in the eyes, which always happens when he’s the one about to make an important decision or, in this case, offer, that involves both of them as a couple.

“And then... you know, it was good to come back home and find you there.” He’s blushing, “Even if I left for just five minutes, it’s... I like the thought of coming home and find you here. So, you can come here whenever you want”.

Robb finds himself smiling, as he approaches the big flamingo floats and crosses his arms on it.

“Is there anything you want to tell me?”

Theon’s blush deepens, and he tries to hide it by rolling his eyes, “Well, yes there is something but...”

He doesn’t go on. Robb taps his knee, comfortingly.

“I’m listening”

Theon takes a deep, long huff. Runs both his hand through his hair and face. “God, I can’t believe I’m about to do this”.

He’s chuckling nervously, that’s another thing he does when he’s about to take a huge step in his, or their, life.

“Take your time”, Robb squeezes his knee.

“If you already figured that out then you could just give me an answer already”, that makes him laugh, but Robb definitely does not give in so easily.

“I want to hear you say it”, he claims, smiling at him as he’s taking the umpteenth deep breath.

“Okay, damn.” Theon finally looks at him in the eye. And then he says it, “Robb, do you want to move in with me?”

“Yes!”

Robb practically jumps on him as he’s screaming his answer, the pink flamingo flips upside down and their both underwater, Robb’s arms and legs wrapped around Theon. They’re both laughing when they make their way to the surface, Theon actually looks so happy he could cry.

They stop laughing only cause they both decide they should use their mouths to do something else, cause their previous make out session was probably a little too short.

And suddenly, even the pool it’s too hot for Robb, and for Theon too, most likely. But Robb doesn’t care, soon the sun will go down and the air will be a little cooler. And no one’s going to see them as they get it on in the soon-to-be-theirs-and-not-only-just-Theon’s pool.

Maybe Summer is not so bad. 

[levis-hazelnut]

Levi x Reader Nightmares

Screaming filled your room as your eyes shot open and your body jerked up. You had woken up gasping and a few tears rolled down your face, dropping onto your covers. Dragging a hand up your face and into your (H/C) tresses, you tried to calm yourself down so you could go back to sleep. You laid back down, wiping your tears away and staring up at the ceiling.

You are glad that you requested for your own room because you wouldn't want anyone to see you like this, or for them to wake up because of your screaming and crying.

For a moment, you closed your eyes as you sighed heavily and shook your head to rid of the memory.

"Please! Stop! She can't breathe! Aren't you Military Police meant to help us, not kill us?!"

You clenched your eyes shut as if the nightmare would end. Why does your past still haunt you? Why can't you just forget about it? You hated waking up in the middle of the night nearly every night. Every time, you would wake up panting, or bawling your eyes out, or you would just wake up silently.

You detest people, mostly the Military Police because they are the cause of the nightmares which wake you up every night. They are the reason you can never forget about your past. It's all their fault that you are broken and it will be hard for you to get yourself together again and to rid of those horrible memories.

Slowly drifting back to sleep, you tried your best to shake those flashbacks out of your head so you can continue your sleep without any disturbances from your wretched past from years ago. However, you don't let that bring your morale down. You try to stay as happy as you can so you aren't a burden on anyone else, so you smile your past off. Laughing with other people makes you forget about it.

Sometimes, you really dislike your life and wished you were never born in the first place. But other times, when you are with your comrades, you love living and you're glad you're still alive.

Titans make this a ruthless world. But your comrades cheer you up.

Titans eat and kill your friends. But the remaining ones comfort you.

It's a cycle.

The same thing happens over and over again but it's difficult to get used to it. No matter how many times it happened, you used to react the same as always. Now, you know not to grow too close with anyone because that friendship will disintegrate before your eyes. You don't mourn over them anymore because it always happens and you see no value in it - it won’t bring them back.

When sunlight fingered through your sheer curtains, you woke up after being able to sleep peacefully for the rest of the night. But you were still quite sleep-deprived like you would be any other day. It's unhealthy that you hardly get any sleep, but you can't help it.

Sluggishly, you got ready for the day and walked to the mess hall for breakfast, sitting down on the table where your friends were.

"Hi, guys," you said.

"Hey."

"Hi."

"Hello, (Y/N)."

You yawned as you were about to take a bite from your food, so you covered your mouth, having the urge to just rest your head on the table and sleep.

"How come you’re tired? You're lucky to be able to have your own room so no one wakes you up in the middle of the night."

I'm not lucky. I still wake up in the middle of the night and it isn't because of someone, you thought.

"I didn't get much sleep last night."

"Yeah, because I kept you up," Jean smirked.

"Shut up."

"You aren't denying it."

"You weren't the one who caused my lack of sleep," you retorted.

"What was it then?" Connie asked.

"I... just wasn't able to fall asleep," you lied.

"I know something that will tire you out," Jean stated with that smug face, so you rammed your foot into his under the table.

You quickly finished your food and went outside so you could have some peace before the day full of training and chores starts. Strolling far from the castle-like building, you went to a tree and stood beneath it, leaning against the trunk as you stared into the distance with your arms crossed over your chest. There was a slight breeze which rippled through the air and made your hair flow with the rhythm of the wind.

"What are you doing out here, brat?"

"I wanted some peace," you replied.

"... Are you okay?"

"Why are you asking?"

"Because the only other room near mine, is yours and I heard someone screaming like they were getting murdered or something."

A shade of red dusted onto your cheeks. Of all people, Levi was the one who had to hear that.

"You were awake?"

"Yeah, I had work to finish off. And even if I was sleeping, I'd probably wake up. What happened?"

"Well, clearly, I wasn't getting murdered. I just had a... nightmare."

"A nightmare made you scream your head off?"

"It wasn't a normal one. It was more like a flashback from my past... I don't want to talk about it."

"Okay... It's kind of cold. Don't you want to be inside?"

"No, I'm fine."

With that, Levi left you alone, going towards the building.

Is there no cure to your nightmares? Is there not something that would allow you to sleep calmly? You have thought about something that will let you sleep in peace, but it's something that will make you sleep forever so you never tried. You didn't like that you actually had thoughts about that. Your life was messed up and it messed up your mind, making you think of unbelievable things.

You wished you could have a normal life. One without despicable people. One without vile titans. One without depression. All you wanted was a cheerful life.

After finished your cleaning duties, you wandered around HQ by yourself since there was nothing else to do.

Your head shot around when you heard someone talk in a cheery voice, thinking it was someone you knew ages ago but it wasn't. It was just some other Scout. They smiled at you and ended up laughing when they noticed that you zoned out, which had brought you back to reality. You gave a slight smile in return, but you immediately turned around and paced through the corridors, going somewhere where it was quiet and you could be alone. You found a dead end and leaned against the wall, sliding down it. Your knees were bent and you crossed your arms on your knees, resting your head in your arms as tears streamed down your face, some landing on your legs and some pattering onto the floor.

That Scout's voice and smile reminded you of Rose - a girl you grew up with. But her life ended before she could even get in trouble with her friends. Before she could run around and play within the walls. Before she could acknowledge what a terrible world it is.

She had ginger kind of hair which only went just above her shoulders. She had glistening, dark blue eyes. She was always happy and always had a smile on her face. Rose was younger than you, but only by two years, and she would call you Big Sis because she said that you reminded her of her sister. She didn't have a family since she had no idea where her parents were, so her sister was her only family, but she got killed by some thugs.

Similar to her, your parents were killed and you were an only child, so you didn’t have a family. You lived in the Underground, which is where you met Rose, along with Abigail. Abigail wasn't as sweet as Rose, but she was caring and didn't like showing it. She was the eldest out of the three of you and she always looked after you and Rose until she left both of you unexpectedly without saying goodbye.

That left you and Rose to live together, stealing together, running together and fighting together.

That all changed when you left Rose somewhere to hide as you went to steal some food. You successfully did and made your way back to her, but when you got to the place you told her to stay, she was nowhere to be seen. You abandoned the food and ran around, searching for her. Eventually, it turned dark and you had to rest, so you could start looking for her again the next day.

As you tried to get some sleep, you couldn't because you needed Rose with you to be able to sleep. She wasn't safe and you knew that. So you began looking for her again, and she was still nowhere to be seen.

Returning to your original spot and that's when you heard Rose's, normally delicate voice, screaming. You jogged to her screams which were then silenced before you heard gasping like she was struggling to breathe. You gasped as well when you saw Rose trying to get air into her lungs. A hand was wrapped around her neck and she was lifted off the floor, pushed against the cold, stone wall. You knew the uniform that the person was wearing - it was the uniform of Military Police.

"Please! Stop! She can't breathe! Aren't you MPs meant to help us not kill us?!"

You were about to rush towards her but a hand gripped your wrist, making you turn your head around. Another Military Police. You tried shaking his hand off but he wouldn't budge. He put a hand on your mouth and dragged you away before knocking you out.

When you woke up, you were kneeling down and your hands were tied behind your back. A rope was also tied around your ankles. You realised that you were positioned to look at Rose being harmed. When you saw her being slapped continuously on her cheeks, you widened your eyes and tried shouting. Her face was bright red and it looked like she was about to give out any second. There were bruises around her eyes and lip and a few cuts on her face.

What did they do while you were unconscious? Again, you tried shouting but you were gagged and anything you said was muffled. Tears ran down your face as you couldn't do anything, but watch.

The two Military Police stopped slapping her and started to kick her and knee her and punch her.

Why are they doing this?

After a while, you got so agitated that you looked for anything that would cut you out of the ropes. You noticed a dagger beside you so laid on your side and wiggled your fingers about to try and reach it. Once you got it in your hand, you started slicing at the rope which tied your wrists together. When that was done, you were able to easily cut through the ropes on your ankles.

However, when you were free, you realised that Rose wasn't moving and it didn't look like she was breathing. Her eyes were still open and blood leaked from her head.

The salty liquid left your eyes once again. You weren't going to run towards her, there was no chance in saving her, so you sprinted away in the other direction, as far as you could go.

A few years later, you joined the Scout Regiment and found out that that's where Abigail had come to. You were elated that you were reunited and you told her about Rose.

After a few months of being a Scout, Abigail had left you as well. On an expedition, she was grabbed by a Titan and she squirmed in its hand. The crack of her bones echoed in your ears and blood sputtered everywhere. Why were you always around death?

And that's what happened in your past. That's why you have nightmares nearly every night. That's why you can't sleep peacefully. That's why you are crying, right now.

As you quietly sobbed, you heard footsteps approach you but you didn't move. They sat down next to you as you continued crying. You glanced up when you felt a hand tap the top of your head in a caring way. The way Abigail would when you or Rose would be upset.

"W-What are you d-doing?" you stuttered, burying your face in your arms.

"Why are you crying?" Levi replied.

No words were able to leave your mouth; you had to calm down before you could speak to Levi or anyone.

Around twenty minutes passed and Levi was still by your side, he didn't say anything, nor did you. When you brushed your tears away and blew your nose into a tissue he handed to you, you told him about your life and why you have nightmares.

"My life is cursed. I'll lose all those who are close to me," you muttered once you told him everything.

"You aren't cursed, brat."

"Why can't I get rid of my memories? Why are they engraved into my brain so I never forget them?"

"You needed to let it all out and you needed to talk to someone about it. You might be able to sleep properly now."

"What if I still can't?" you asked quietly.

"You need someone by your side to comfort you. You can't deal with your problems by yourself."

"And who is that ‘someone’?"

"I don't know. Someone you trust or someone you have a liking to."

"I don't really trust anyone. And I don't think the person I like will want to help me with my problems."

"Why did you tell me about your past then? Do you trust me?"

"I, uhh... I don't know. I just let it all out like you said I needed to."

"Would you have done that if it was someone else?"

"I don't... think so."

"So do you trust me?"

"I guess."

"Then, I'll be there if you need me."

"Really?" You arched an eyebrow.

"Yeah. And why do you think that the person you like won't help you with your problems?"

"Well, I know they will now," you told him, kind of hinting that you were talking about him.

"What made you change your mind?"

"Um... because at first, they seem like someone who doesn't care about anyone, but once you get to know them better, they're really soft-hearted."

"Sounds like someone I know." He lifted an eyebrow.

"You know them very well."

"Should I guess who it is?"

"You have one guess."

"Is it me?"

"Yes..." you barely uttered.

"I like you, too," the raven whispered before softly moulding his lips with yours.

It was a short, sweet kiss that left a smile on your lips when you pulled away. Levi tucked a bunch of hair behind your ear and lightly caressed your face. A yawn left your mouth, so you laid your head on the male’s shoulder and fluttered your eyes closed.

"I want to sleep," you murmured.

"Have you finished your chores?"

"Yes."

"Why don't you sleep in a bed?"

"I'm not bothered."

"Tch. Lazy a*s."

"Shhh.”

Levi stayed silent as he allowed you to lay your head on his shoulder as your body was pressed up against his. With some reluctance, he rested his own head upon yours and put a hand on your lap, causing you to flinched, but then. you put your hand on top of his, and he softly stroked it with his thumb.

"Who's there?" a voice muttered to themselves. "Oh. It's just you guys,” Hanji said. She walked away, but her footsteps backed up to where you were. "What?!" she yelled, making you jump.

"What the hell, Hanji?" you snapped.

"When did this happen?!"

"Like five minutes ago."

"Aw! Okay, bye! Sorry for disturbing you!"

She squealed as she skipped away like a schoolgirl. You sighed before standing up and dusting your clothes.

"Where are you going?"

"To a bed."

"You can sleep in mine if you want."

"It's fine. I want my bed."

He nodded as he stood up and followed you, pecking your cheek before you entered your room and he went into his office.

You felt giddy as you laid in your bed, thinking about Levi and what happened, allowing you to fall asleep with a smile on your face.

A few months later...

Screaming filled your room as your eyes shot open and your body jerked up. You had woken up gasping and a few tears rolled down your face, dropping onto your covers. Dragging a hand up your face and into your (H/C) tresses, you tried to calm yourself down so you could go back to sleep. You leaned against the headboard of the bed, and felt fingers gingerly brush away your tears.

Turning your head to the side to look at the raven beside you, he sat up and kissed your cheek before embracing you into a hug. You flung your arms around him and cried into his shoulder as he comforted you, gently stroking your back.

"Shh. It's okay," Levi whispered. “I’m here. You’re okay.”

You slowly quietened down and rid of the tears that were still on your cheek. "Sorry," you spoke quietly.

"For what?"

"Waking you up."

"Don't be sorry."

"But don't you get annoyed that I wake you up by screaming?"

"No. I said I'll be here for you and I'll help you with your problems."

"Thank you, Levi,” you smiled softly, leaning your forehead against his.

He placed his lips on yours. "Anything for you."

Since you were now calm, you reclined onto your back and Levi did the same, looping his arms around your waist and pulling you close to him. Your head rested on his bare chest as he kissed the top of your head and closed his eyes.

You won't have to deal with your nightmares, which scarred you, by yourself anymore. You have Levi who will comfort you, help you and protect you. It's rare for you to have nightmares now, but they still happen and he is always by your side to keep you safe and to calm you down.

[starlightsaeran]

Moonchild

Author’s note: Hello hello! I’m so excited to be posting the first of two pieces created for the @mysme-rbb !! I’ve been unbelivably lucky to be paired with such an overwhelmingly talented artist, @pili-art {{please go show her all the love in the world!! }}, and I've had more fun creating these than I can even put into words!! I hope you love them <3

Summary: Saeran drifts off to sleep after another night of anxiety, but for the first time in a long while, his dreams are far from torturous...

Read on AO3: here! 

Make sure to check out my partner’s STUNNING accompanying art here!! ✨

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Saeran wanders among the scintillating tightrope hung between the planets, tangled among the clouds.

The darkness is inescapable. A thick blanket of it envelops him, entangling everything it isn’t with everything he is, securing him, but never trapping him. It pulls him under into its reassuring embrace, and quellls the flames of his neverending fears and anxieties. The darkness is a lullaby to the exhaustion of his soul.

 Saeran is alone. He had long ago grown used to being alone, and now he felt the most at ease when he was by himself, in the hours when he knew no one else was around to see his weaknesses and the insecurities that were always lit up like a neon sign behind his eyes. He enjoyed being alone, but the inevitable loneliness that managed to creep up on him without fail every time he was alone made him want to run far and far away. But every silver lining has its cloud, and Saeran, being as smart as he is, knew there would never be anywhere for him ro run to. In this moment, Saeran is alone, but he isn’t lonely. The darkness, though he is sure that’s all it is and all it has ever been, feels like a friend. It remains silent, watching, though Saeran knows it is never judging. That’s why he has always found it so easy to be comforted by the darkness, to melt it into it, until he can’t remember where the darkness ends and he begins. Intertwined - with the emptiness he came from, the emptiness he belongs to. The darkness hides him. Him, and everything he is, everything he has ever been and never will be. It sees him, though for once, that doesn’t scare him. He knows he can be himself within the darkness, though in reality, he has no choice. He is simply too tired to hide it now.

No, the darkness is not empty, not as his heart had once been, is usually for that matter, but right now he doesn’t feel it; the infinite, endless cavern of depression he can't help but fall and fall and fall into. There is no escape, for it exists within him. It is him, this nightmare he can’t awake from. His heart is a blackhole. Perhaps this, the ocean of nothingness that exists many lifetimes away from all human creation, this is the perfect place for a creature like him to reside. There is nothing for him to destroy here, nothing for him to tarnish with the breaths he can’t help but to take. He is something to be feared. But perhaps here, in a place as wholly consuming as this, in an atmosphere which plucks his every thought from him like they are naught but weeds in a flowerbed, the inevitable ache which demands to be felt cannot find him.

In this moment, in this place, he cannot feel the heavy burden of his heart. This is a welcome escape from the anguish of his daily routine. In fact, Saeran can’t feel very much of anything else either. Not the untamable wisps of his hair that usually torment the corners of his always tired eyes, not the ache in his bones from the repeating days in which his body is stuck in its chair whilst his mind runs at the speed of light, or the pounding in his head that refuses to cease. He can’t even feel the rips and tears in the skin of his fingertips, which usually serve as a  constant reminder of his own weakness and lack of self control. He feels none of it. He feels...nothing. Like the darkness within which he is encased, he is still.

Saeran tries to recall how it was he wound up here, wherever here is, and vaguely remembers the ghosts of his tears as they ran down his cheeks, and the way their rhythmic flow ebbed him to sleep. His head had been resting on a pillow dampened by the tears he’d cried an hour or a day or a year before, and the night sky visible through the glass ceiling above him had seemed to be inviting him to rest with it.

That must be where he is now. Dreaming, his mind wandering as his body rests, safe. But if his body was resting beneath the stars, then where were they now?

Open your eyes.

 Saeran hears a voice say, or does he? It’s hard to tell if the words had manifested from the darkness, or if he had simply imagined them himself from the newly relaxed state of his mind. All he knows is that those words had sounded unimaginably pretty. They were a sound unlike any he had ever heard before, even lovelier than windchimes, and sirens singing in a storm. They had felt like kisses from a butterfly gliding past his skin. Regardless of the origin of the words, he feels as though he has no choice but to obey. He isn’t sure he is even in control of his own actions now, and though he hadn’t realised they had even been closed;

he opens his eyes.

An uncountable amount of stars had suddenly filled all of eternity. They are shining in all their seraphic glory, as they dance and dance with themselves and with each other, a cacophony of love, a symphony of light. They are beautiful in a way that nothing else is, and nothing else could ever dream to be. They intertwine with one another, forming families of constellations and creating a sight like nothing Saeran had ever imagined possible. They light up the world, and for the first time, Saeran can see it as it stretches for miles and miles, a whole galaxy of possibilities. Each one twinkles and sparkles in greeting. To his surprise, Saeran can feel their excitement; they are excited to see him. Their colours fill his soul, and he aches to be one of them. 

And there, like a lighthouse within the storm of the ocean, is the moon. Like a forgotten lover, she calls to him. One look is all it takes and he is mesmerized, completely and utterly lost in the light of her glow. 

Saeran.

The voice was a breeze blowing softly through him, and it called his name with such tenderness, such care, possibly even… love? Now wouldn’t that be a strange sort of thing. Love, for a nightmare like him? Yes, he mustn’t let him himself forget, even in the paradise of a place like this, he was a nightmare within a dream, a beast amongst beauty, and the blackhole of his heart would tear this goodness to shreds. He couldn’t let that happen. No, as much as he wanted to stay, and oh, did he want to stay, he wouldn’t let himself be this selfish. He wouldn’t watch his happiness be ripped from him again. He had to leave, had to get out, had to find a way to wake up, had to-

Saeran.

He hears it again, and this time he realises the voice is definitely feminine. The way she says his name holds him captive. He hadn’t been able to feel a thing, now all of a sudden he feels her, and the warmth in her glow. He feels her surrounding him. He feels her hands, as though one was stroking his cheek and another tangles itself in his hair, grounding him, but never trapping him.

Oh, Little Prince. My cloud wanderer. My star wonderer.

He melts into her soothing touch as though there is no other choice. Her light finds its way to his every corner, lighting him up from the inside, and extracting all his fear. It reminds him that this is where he exists in the present. All that matters is this moment. He hadn’t realised in his sudden calmness that his eyes had closed themselves again, shying away from the light as he was used to doing, until he hears her say;

Look. Look at all of your stars. They shine for you and only you. With each breath you take, you grant life to a new star. They exist because you exist. This is your galaxy.

Her words were a command his soul did not possess the ability to disobey, as though she retained complete control over him, and so he opens his eyes and looks. He tries to take it all in; the words of which their truth he feels in some deep, unexplored part of his soul, and the billions of lights, each one its own individual life, all shining for and because of him. If he had been on earth right now the truth of it all would have brought him to his knees. He feels like he is falling. How...how could all of this exist for him? How could a creature like him even pretend to be worthy-

Let go, my love. You are not falling, but flying.

He wants to let go, has been trying for it seemed the entirety of his existence, but the weight of his heart was an anchor to the world with which he no longer wanted to have anything to do, especially not now. Not after seeing exactly where it was his soul could escape to.

A heart is a heavy burden indeed. And yet you handle yours so well, little one. My starlit dreamer, to love as you do is a wondrous thing. Flowers grow to meet your smile. Birds sing their joy when they feel your presence. A soul as pure as yours, and a star as sweet as you, well, it’s no surprise the weight of the love in your heart made you sink, and the Earth claimed you for itself.

He feels it now. The pull of the night. The song of the stars that matched the one his soul had been singing alone for so long. He is a star. A star with a heart too full of love. And it had caused him to fall to the Earth.

You have become earthbound, and now so many worlds exist within yours, within you, within the wonders of your eyes.

Although of course the truth is shocking, more than anything, he feels a wave of welcomed understanding wash over him. He is as calm as the night. He hasn’t learnt a new truth, it’s more like unlocking a very old memory. But it is a truth nonetheless, and one he hopes he can carry with him. A truth he hopes he will be able to recall on those recurring nights of agony, when it felt as though all the world were against him. 

You know who you are in your heart, little one. You have survived until now. You have been brave, and you will be braver still. The stars have already written your name amongst theirs, and there it will always remain. Your home is only a dream away.

Then why, he wants to scream. If his home is amongst the stars and the love and the light of the galaxy, if he is so special to them, then why is he cursed to a life of pain and heartache? Why can’t he remain here, where for the first time in his life he feels loved and like he has an understanding of the world, he has a grasp on the workings and intricacies of life, and he doesn’t feel like he’s on the cusp of letting go? 

The Earth needs you, precious one. There are lives you are going to save and smiles you’re going to bring to so, so many people. They need you. And they will love you more than you could ever imagine. Your struggles make you stronger, so that your heart may find the hearts of those that need you, and in turn you may pass on your wisdom and your love to save them. And every time they look up at the stars, on the painful nights as you have, they will see you there, shining brightly, and they will know they are safe. They will know they are loved. They will know there is a world out there waiting for them, and there are lives for them to save in turn. 

You know the truth of who you are. You will carry that truth with you for always, it is not something your soul can forget. When the days are hard and the nights are long, remember that you are loved by stars both up here, and stars that are like you, whose overflowing hearts have caused them to fall through the night and land upon the Earth. You need each other, and together, you will shine across every darkened corner of a land that feels lost. Discover it. Discover yourself, and the weight of the love within you. 

I will always be with you, dear one. The stars in your eyes are the tears in mine, and though there may be little rest for the moon, your existence will never be a burden to me. I exist to guide you through the night. 

Saeran feels himself growing sleepy; not tired, as though it is torture to his eyes to keep them open. Not exhausted, as though even sleep isn’t enough to fix him. But safe, warm, full of love and of light, as though he himself were just a little cloud floating carelessly through the sky.

Rest now, my angel. Tomorrow, your eyes will once again light up the sun. For now, may you rest, and allow me to take on your worries. Whenever your heart bubbles over with fear, may your dreams carry you home, where we will always be waiting. 

And as Saeran gives in to the waves of sleep pulling him under, he rests his head against the gentle surface of the Moon, and the smile on his face is bright enough to be seen from Earth.

[tomtenadia]

Island Dreams - Chapter 20

Chapter 20 is finally here and sorry for the wait. I work full time and I am doing uni as well. I have an assignment due next week so I had to leave my fic aside as well.

Tonight here in Scotland is a big night for rugby fans. Rowan and Lorcan from my fic will be probably celebrating with me just now. Scotland has won against England at Twickenham (Home game for England) and for the three of us it's a very, very, very, big thing. I guess our two men are on their way to the pub to get totally pished (wonderful Scottish word for drunk).

Also, I was so involved in the game that I almost forgot to publish tonight.

Chapter 20 has been a challenge. I have changed a part of the story about 4 times and I hope I chose the best plot. We get to meet Chaol. I know in the books he is not as horrible but i made him a bit more horrible just for the sake of the story. Also, be happy that it finished the way it did. In one of my plans I had gone for much, much more angst. Then I told myself that I was writing a fluffy story and ignored the cruel idea.

Oh, I forgot to add that there is just a smidge of smut.

I really hope you will enjoy the chapter.

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The next morning Aelin woke up before Rowan again. She had a fantastic sleep after the perfect day they had at the festival, but now she was ready to celebrate Rowan because his birthday had finally arrived. She turned to him and he was still sleeping soundly. The lines of his face soft making him even more beautiful. She had planned a birthday lunch at Maeve’s, she had a few presents for him, but most especially she intended to wake him up in a very special way. The night before he had gone to bed with just his boxer and shirtless, which meant he had been much more tired than he let it show because he never did that before. Slowly she pulled the blankets back revealing his naked chest. He was sleeping on his back making her plan much easier. Wickedly she removed her top remaining naked from the waist up. Gently she straddled him and then leaned forward depositing kisses along his torso making sure that her naked body was in full contact with his. She heard him moan softly and he slowly come to awareness. Surprise flaring in his eyes as he took in their position.

“Good morning, birthday boy.” Her body brushed his, her hard peaks against his skin. His eyes went wide. “What—” but she kissed him deeply not letting him finish the sentence. He shifted up until he was in a seated position and Aelin kept straddling him, then she leaned a bit back allowing him to look at her properly. “You are…” and he pointed at her state of undress. “Your first present.” She took his hands and placed them on her breasts. Rowan’s mouth crushed against hers, avid and needy and she did not hold back. His mouth then travelled to her neck and finally he grabbed her hard peaks in her mouths and Aelin arched her back into him. His other hand found its way in the waistband of her underwear and grabbed her butt pulling her closer to him. She felt him hard against her and she had to try very hard not to grind against him. His touch became more demanding as his tongue was doing wicked thing to her mouth. “You can touch me whenever you want,” she breathed in his ear and Rowan groaned and flipped on her back, his body now towering over her. “You…” a lick on her neck “have…” a gentle bite that sent her mind reeling “no…” his mouth on her breasts again “idea…” and his teeth closed on her nipple. Aelin gently moaned. His hands were taking in every inch of her body and she felt on fire at his touch. His mouth followed the lines of her abdomen until he reached her underwear and placed an almost reverential kiss at the apex of her thighs. It was a simple gesture but Aelin almost lost it. His mouth travelled back up and locked again onto hers but a finger slipped between her legs. He pressed gently at her sensitive spot and she felt her body jerk. Using the fabric of her underwear for friction, his finger was now making circles and she felt his mouth bend into a grin. This was not what she had planned. It was supposed to be the other way around with her giving him a special treatment for his birthday. Aelin suddenly felt it, the pressure build, her core now starting to tighten and until release rippled through her like a river out of control. She lifted her head and screamed in his shoulder. She rode her high and he did not stop until she was spent. Then he gave a quick kiss on the mouth and collapsed on the bed at her side, propping his head up with his fist. She closed her eyes for a moment, trying to regain composure “This was not what I had planned,” she turned to face him and his grin was wide “I was the one one supposed to give you such a lovely good morning. Not you.” And she poked his shoulder, in response he leaned over and kissed her again. “You provoked me.” His knuckle traced her breasts “with these.” He kissed her again “and I really, really loved my present.” Still half naked she got out of bed and went to her old room to grab his presents. She came back and climbed on bed under his hungry stare. She sat down, not bothering to get dressed again. She handed him the first present and he opened it and smiled when he realised what it was: a green t-shirt with the Peat and Diesel logo. His face blossomed in a lovely smile. “Put this one on.” He said handing the t-shirt back to her. “Does it really bother you to have me naked in bed?” “No,” he said leaning closer “I want something with your smell on.” She put the t-shirt and he kissed her “perfect,” while slowly his hand sneaked underneath the fabric. She patted his hand “I have one more present.” “Very generous woman.” He sat back and took the envelope that she handed him. Once opened, he read what was on it. It was a handmade coupon for a romantic getaway of his choosing. “You choose the location. It can be the mainland or here on the islands. Anywhere in Scotland to be honest. And you get to choose when as well.” She explained “My only rules are that it’s somewhere possibly quiet and with a lot of nature. And once we have the location, I get to chose the accommodation, which will be of course on me since it’s my present to you.” She looked at him “You choose the location and the dates, everything else is on me. Clear?” His mouth was on hers again and she pulled him down on the bed where he landed on top of her. “Thank you for your presents.” She hoped he decided on his getaway as soon as possible because she could not wait any longer. His hips slammed into her and ground against her thighs gently and Aelin groaned against his shoulder. With all the force she had she pushed him off and flung herself out of bed “Breakfast. Work.” She said breathless “Please Ro, I am about to lose my wits.” And she moved to the kitchen to cook breakfast. There was no way she was letting him cook on his birthday.

The morning at the bookshop had been busy. The town was buzzing with festival goers and also tourists and they had their constant stream of people flocking in and Aelin was in her element. Some of them even had told her they had discovered the bookshop on Facebook and her face morphed into a grin. She had gone back to Rowan and told him and she bragged about her amazing PR capabilities. He, in response, rolled his eyes. “You might be the owner, but I put the shop on the map.” Rowan chuckled and kept working on his computer. Aelin got closer and sneaked her head under his arm peeking at the screen “So you are ignoring me for paperwork?” “Aelin, I am not ignoring you. You know I need to do this and reconcile the invoices.” He turned his head and looked at her. “I can handle that for you if you want.” “Title of your sex tape.” He kissed her and grinned. Since Aelin had introduced him to Brooklyn 99 he had become obsessed with the show and they have been binge watching it for a while now. Rowan had also started to make ‘title of your sex tapes’ jokes and she was so proud of him. “I created a monster.” She laughed leaning a bit more against him. He put an arm around her for a moment and kissed her head “Can I just finish this? That you can annoy me all you want.” “Fine,” she said, walking away and swaying her hips on purpose “Come and call me when you are done.” He grinned “You know what I am about to say, right?” “Yeah, title of my sex tape.” And she walked away to play with some of the shelves and let him finish work as he asked. It was a couple of hour later when Rowan joined Aelin. She had one shelf completely empty and was now re organising the non fiction section. “What are you doing?” “I am giving a chance to some of these books to be noticed.” She replied while hauling a small pile to the table “This is the slowest seller section. Fine, we don’t have many titles, but we need to make an effort so it does not lie here forgotten.” “Go ahead and have fun. I trust you.” Then he looked at a couple of titles “Let’s choose one title to put in this week’s recommendations.” “Great idea.” He left her when a customer came in and froze at the sight. He knew that face, he had seen him in a picture Aelin had binned after she moved to his place. Rage surged in him. “I am looking for Aelin.” The man said. Aelin recognised that voice and jumped and went to the front of the shop and stared at the man. “Hi babe,” Her hands fisted at her side and Rowan was at her side as soon as he noticed. “What are you doing here.” Her voice dangerously low. “Saw all you lovely pictures on Instagram and had to come and have a look where my dear ex wife had moved to.” His hands went to his pockets and strutted around the shop admiring it with curiosity “So this is where you work now? A bookshop?” He added in a mocking tone. Aelin was now shaking with rage and Rowan placed a hand on her lower back which did not go unnoticed by Chaol. “Your big dreams seem to have taken a hit.” “Why are you here?” She asked again, reining in the desire to thump him. “To take you back of course.” “You what?” Aelin was speechless “What makes you think I would want to come back with you?” “You love me.” He moved one step closer, ignoring a seething Rowan at her side “I know we had our issues but I am ready to start again. I left her. No more lies. I just want you back. We can have a trial run and then get married again.” Aelin was so shocked by the admission that she could not do anything “I can’t.” She finally said. “You lied to me for over a year. You treated me like a monster. Cheated on me and now you expect me to come back to you? Just because detective slut has left you?” She took a step toward him “You have some guts.” “Aelin, please,” he grabbed her wrist but Rowan grabbed her as well and pulled her back to him. Chaol looked at Rowan and the man straightened up to try and look as imposing as possible. Rowan was a good twenty centimetres taller than Chaol. “Seriously? This guy? You are leaving behind your life in London for this guy?” Aelin heard the growl coming from Rowan. “There is nothing in London for me, Lysandra aside. My life there is a part of the past, same as you are.” “Aelin I was wrong okay? And I am sorry for the way I hurt you. But these months without you made me realise I miss you and I want to do all I can to take you back.” He took another step closer to her. Aelin started pacing. Her mind was spinning out of control. There was no way she was going back to him. Never. She was furious. “I am not coming back.” She eventually said in a low tone, looking at him in the eyes. “My life is here now. I am looking for a job as a doctor here. And I have Rowan. You had your chance and you blew it. Now it’s too late. You should have fought when there was a chance to fix things. It’s over Chaol.” “A job here? Treating what? Sheep? Come on, Aelin, you have more ambition than that.” Rowan almost lunged forward but Aelin stopped him and gave him a tender smile. “Even on an island people need doctors. This is my life now.” She placed herself between the two men, facing her ex husband “And I love it here.” “You can’t be serious.” His tone was getting on Aelin’s nerves. “Like a heart attack.” Was her dead pan reply. Chaol ran his hand through his hair a move that a long time ago it would have sent her shivers down her spine and then ended up in his arms. “It looks like your leg has healed.” She needed some time to refocus. He was taken aback by the sudden change of topic “Yeah, Lysandra is a wizard at her job. I am still walking slowly, but I abandoned my cane last week and I will go back to work the next one.” “Good.” “Aelin, can we please have lunch together and talk? Perhaps without an audience?” And he glared at Rowan. “No. I have said all I had to say to you.” She sighed. He was always stubborn “I have no regrets for the divorce. We were not happy anymore. You were a cheating bastard. It was the only option and you need to accept it. I have moved on. Now it’s time you go back to London and do the same.” “Did you fuck your boy toy already?” Aelin stepped dangerously closer to Chaol “Yes. And you know what?” Another step “He made me scream in a way that you never did all those times he fucked me against a wall.” That was petty but Chaol was out of line and she had enough of him. Then she took a step back and joined Rowan and placed an arm around his waist. She could see rage in his eyes. “Aelin has been quite clear. I would recommend you to leave this shop immediately and never come back.” Rowan’s voice was flat and she realised she had never heard him like that. It was eerie. He was furious. Probably just as much as she was. “Chaol, please…” “I loved you.” He shouted “I still do. I don’t deserve all this hate. It was not all my fault. You didn’t even try,” he stepped back. He was about to add something else but gave up in the end. “Fine. Enjoy your pathetic life here. Enjoy your new boy toy, I hope he can handle you. You are not worth it. Not anymore.” And with those words he left. As soon as he was out of the shop Aelin let out a sob. Her hand to her mouth and her body shaken by the now full blown sobs. Rowan moved a step to her to try and console her but she moved away. She went to the back office and gathered all of her stuff “I need to be alone.” “Aelin…” Rowan’s hand was extended in an effort to stop her. “Leave me alone. Everyone.” She growled and left the shop. Rowan felt his heart break at those words. He only moved again when he heard a customer enter the shop.

Working had been a nightmare. Rowan’s mind kept thinking about Aelin’s broken stare. She pushed him away and the whole thing was driving him insane. She wanted space and he was going to give it to her but it did hurt. He closed the shop at his usual time and went back home with dread in his guts. She hadn’t texted him and he was getting worried. They were meant to go to the ceilidh but that was probably off the table now. And he raged. He was looking forward to dance with her. Once at home he changed into something more comfortable and crashed on the sofa. He lay down and placed a hand on his head and his mobile on his chest, just in case he had news from her. He was almost falling asleep when the phone buzzed. He jumped seated and went for the mobile. It was a text from Aelin. I am sorry. Are you okay? Where are you? Tolsta. Was all she said. Rowan stood and debated what to do next. She had told him where she was. Did it meant it was okay now for him to join her? He paced for half an hour and in the end he decided to go to her. Then he stopped. His car was still in the shop and swore loudly. He had a look at the buses and for a moment he hated island life where buses could be infrequent and stopped after a while. He couldn’t even ask his aunt because she lived outside town and she needed the car to go back home. Finally he decided to get a taxi. It was his only option. He booked the ride and got changed again very quickly. The ride was short and fifteen minutes later he spotted her car at the car park and made his way to her, his heart hammering with fear. What if she was going to break up with him? He knew it was a stupid idea but he was terrified. Once he reached the beach he noticed her seating in the sand, her arms around her legs and his Glasgow uni hoodie on. He had returned it to her the day before. He stopped behind her. “Aelin.” “I am sorry.” She said in a voice that broke his heart. “Can I sit down beside you?” She patted the spot on the sand beside her, but never turned to face him. Rowan sat down beside her and noticed she was staring out to the sea. Her eyes were puffy and anger resurged in him. “I am sorry… I din’t mean…” she leaned her head on his shoulder and her crying resumed. His arm went around her and pulled her closer and rocked her in silence. “He made me so mad.” And another sob rippled through her “I am so tired of hurting for him.” Rowan wanted to say something but at the moment he had nothing that could help her. “I gave him ten years of my life. Ten. And it just went down the toilet.” She breathed in deeply and tried to regain some control “what’s the point in falling in love. It just ends in pain anyway.” Rowan froze at those words. She could not be really thinking about giving up on them. Aelin stare met his “Even us. What’s the point? Knowing my luck you’ll grow tired of me in a few years and bugger off to a new woman.” Rowan kissed her “No.” He said cupping her face and forcing Aelin to stare at him “No. I understand that right now you are in pain, but you can’t give up on us.” And he kissed her again to make his point “I don’t know what fate has decided for us, but I know that I will do my very best to make you happy. You are my everything and I am not giving up on you. Don’t even think about it.” “You say that now—“ He stopped her “Aelin I know my feelings. I am in this for the long run. I love you. And I have never been surer of my feeling in my life. You have to believe me.” “I am scared.” She confessed, snuggling to him “What if we are going too fast? We have known each other for only a few months. We already live together and share the same bed. We said to each other things that people who have been going out for a few months don’t usually say. I am terrified.” She looked up at him, fearing the hurt she would see in his eyes. His hands never left her face “I am scared too. After Lyria left me I told myself never again. I was willing to be on my own forever because I could not cope with the idea of committing so much again. And then you appeared in my life and all my resolutions went to hell.” A gentle kiss on her lips “I have the same fears as you. I love you. Madly” then he smiled at her “If we were in a fantasy we would now confess each other we are soulmates and I would praise our love with an epic speech.” “But we are not…” she added sadly. “No, but it doesn’t change what I feel for you. The fact that no matter how crazy it sounds, I am sure about us. Somehow my soul is telling me you are its missing half. And it frightens me, but I am not giving up on you just because I am scared.” Aelin caressed his face and stared at him in silence. “If you want to slow down, go back to your room or find your own place, I will understand.” She shook her head, tears flowing down her face “No. No, never. I am fine just the way things are. Chaol’s words hit me more that I was expecting. I thought I was over all the pain, but it looks I am not.” “You were not ready. You were not expecting him to come into our shop and say those horrible things to you.” He pulled her face to his chest and hugged her tight “I was terrified when you left. I thought I lost you somehow. And it was the scariest feeling ever.” “I thought about breaking up with for a minute. I was trying to convince myself that not being attached to anyone was the better option. Then I tried to picture not having you at my side and I was even more scared, because I can’t.” “I almost punched him.” Confessed Rowan, lingering in the feeling of her body against his “I have never punched anyone in my life but for him I would have made an exception.” He heard her chuckle and the ice gripping his heart finally thawed away. “That would have been a show I would have paid to see.” “I ruined your birthday.” She sniffled. “You did not. Police officer did. We just blame him.” He kissed her head “being here with you is perfect enough. You are my most precious present.” Aelin laughed “That is so cheesy.” He followed her “I know. I am shocked. See what you did to me?” He felt her hands cover his on her waist “You transformed me into a man who sings epic declarations of love and says cheesy things. You ruined me.” They were silent for a while and then Aelin spoke again. “Ro? I applied for a job as senior emergency surgeon.” She had applied for the job a few days before but hadn’t been able to tell him. It felt like a betrayal. He turned to her and smiled “Good.” “You are not mad at me?” He squeezed tighter “Why on earth? It sounds like an amazing opportunity and I could never be mad at you for choosing to do what you love.” “But the shop—“ “You don’t worry about the shop. Go, get the job and rattle the stars. I will be very proud of you.” “It feels like a betrayal.” And Rowan understood her uncertainty. “No it’s not. Not even close. You are not leaving me or abandoning me without reason. For as much as I hate the man, Chaol was right. Working in a bookshop is not for you. Not with the skills you have. The hospital will be very lucky to have someone with your experience.” And he meant it. Every single word. He wanted her to succeed “unlike some people, I am not scared of a successful woman at my side.” And she finally grinned at him and light reached her eyes still red from the tears. He kissed her forehead. “Ro?” “Yes?” “I am not in the mood for the ceilidh tonight. Can we just stay at home and watch Netflix or read? And snuggle?” “We can also order food and have a very quiet birthday evening. I would love that very much.” “Thank you. Rowan just kissed her. He’d do anything to make her happy. To make sure he could see that wonderful smile on her every single day of their life together. Then he finally stood “Come on. Get your arse off the sand and let’s go home. We have season five of Brooklyn nine nine to tackle.” She stood, stopped right in front of him and kissed him “I love you.”

[anxiouslyfred]

Star of Wonder

Summary: Virgil’s parents have stifled his questions, and his chances to follow the star to his soulmate with their strict Christian doctrine. That doesn’t stop him from plotting his escape, nor his soulmate from deciding to find him instead.

Warnings: overly strict parents

/\/\

“As you will see in your history books, the common belief among Christians is that the stars leading us to our soulmates originated from the birth of Jesus. While many historians disagree with this, due to mentions of soulmates prior to when those stories were first written down, and the lack of archaeological evidence for Jesus's birth being heralded in the way the Bible describes it, many people do follow this belief.” Virgil's teacher had explained in their class. Another student had asked about the story their parents had used to describe soulmates and he was once again questioning everything his evangelical family insisted was true, despite the evidence against them.

So far he'd remained quiet, avoiding the scolding that any questions to his parents understanding of the Bible or Christianity brought, but this had a major question rattling around his mind that he needed to ask. “Mrs Williams showed us the cave paintings showing people following stars for their soulmates today. Do you think the Wise Men were hoping to find their soulmates when they followed it to Jesus? Was that who their gifts were actually for?” He asked that evening when they'd been discussing his classes from the day.

His Dad always had strong views about what he should or shouldn't learn and had often visited the school to demand something was removed or not taught to his son. Virgil could only thank his determined head teacher for refusing to make special accommodations, but it did lead to interrogations over what the classes he took taught him.

Virgil shivered as a frozen solid glared turned to him after the question. “Are you insinuating there could be anything unpure about the immaculate birth? That anyone favoured in the Bible could have such twisted selfish reasons to try and find the Saviour?” His father demanded, voice raising with every word.

The lecture and telling off Virgil received after that lasted a full hour, and ended up with none of their family properly finishing their meal. If he had been reluctant to share his thoughts about religion or soulmates to his family before then, Virgil was never going to bring it up now.

That didn't stop his parents trying to act like the closest family there ever was, but not even strangers on the street could be fooled to believe it. Sickly sweet words of “You never open up to us. We're here and we'll accept the things you share with us” never did pair well when moments later in the exact same tone the words would become “I don't care that you haven't a soulmate, I care that you're refusing to say a thing about it. Just accept it and let us arrange a marriage for you to a nice Christian girl in our Church. I'm sure Gertrude said her daughter hasn't seen a star yet.”

Virgil did everything he could to avoid Gertrude in the Church after that. Her daughter was barely 10 and far too young for the star to have appeared for her; Never mind that he did have a star, hovering by the sunset. He did try to at least talk to the children in the Church, and let them know that asking questions was okay, but usually better to be directed to people who are open to them. It was the least he could do to hopefully give them a better time of it than he had with his parents.

He went through the actions of following their wishes, applying to the local colleges and doing the volunteering they insisted the family had to do, quietly messaging online forums for support and help. Virgil was doing everything he could to get his route out of the town and chance to follow his star as soon as college began. He never accepted the place his parents thought, but sent his acceptance letter off to the college two states to the west and had packed his suitcase already. As soon as he heard when move in day would be for the dormitories Virgil was going to be on a train there. His parents couldn't then try to track him down using the car they'd given him only to claim use of it if ever they were attending separate functions.

There was no certainty about where the star was leading him. Whomever his soulmate was lived too far away so the star remained high high in the sky but Virgil hoped it would lower at least somewhat when he got further away from his home town.

The star moving towards him and getting noticeably lower each day after school finished for the summer was something Virgil realised with dread. His parents had very clear views over who he should end up with, completely opposite to the people that had attracted Virgil before. Whomever his soulmate was though now seemed to be heading in his direction and rapidly.

Virgil kept an eye on it, watching from his bedroom window, bringing cloud gazing into the activities they'd use to occupy the kids in the playscheme, anything else he could think of to watch the stars movement and try to guess when they'd arrive.

The suitcase was completely packed with all the last things he'd been keeping out of it when the star was level with the roofs of the houses. Virgil didn't know who his soulmate was, didn't have a clue what their relationship would be when they arrived, but if they were going to come seek him out, he was taking any chance at escape they offered.

He was watching from his window that night, almost at midnight, just wondering if the star was going to stop moving and rest for the night or if he'd be meeting his Soulmate that night. The car that turned down the road looked worse for wear but not half so much as the person that jumped out of it as soon as they drew level with his house. The car hadn't even stopped when that happened, but he didn't have time to stop and think about that.

Virgil while mentally relieved that his soulmate was at least masculine framed knew that if they revealed themself to be his soulmate, especially after knocking on the door in the middle of the night, well catastrophic would be putting it lightly. He was grabbing his suitcase, hurrying downstairs as quietly as possible and still didn't manage to open the door before the first knock had sounded.

Looking at the person, Virgil covered their mouth instantly, hearing movement upstairs. “Sorry, I knocked something. Just wanted a glass of water to see if it'll help my mind settle. I think I can been a racoon in the trash so I'll chase it off while I'm down here.” He called upstairs, not loud enough to wake his parents, but enough that they'd hear if one had woken up.

A glance down the street showed another door getting knocked on by the driver of the car so Virgil shoved his case out of the door. “I'm Virgil, your soulmate if the star on my head doesn't give that away. Worst type of Christians up there so lets get this in the car and figure out what can happen then. If you'd prefer to just dump me in a motel somewhere close to you it would be better than here.” He hissed out, ignoring that his hand was now getting licked until he had the door pulled shut.

“I'm Remus, pretty one. You seriously running away with me in the middle of the night? Have you heard some of the most brilliant stories that come from people doing that?” His soulmate leant into his space. “You smell good, but I still can't decide what pronouns to use for you. I'm he/him, and so's Ro-bro. You know who he's going to be waking up?”

The wave towards the car at the end of the road had Virgil snort, “The pretentious git leading the choir. I try my best not to know him. I've stuck with he/him pronouns so far, but if that changes I'll let you know.”

“Are we really running, or can me and Ro have a sleep before you want to get away? Either works cause crashes are great fun to get out of and you're more likely to get into them when driving tired.” Remus asked, taking the suitcase and beginning to head back down the road.

“I'm not gonna change your plans. Just tell me what you're intending and I'll see if I can help, like by pointing out there's a fully furnished but currently empty house 2 blocks away. Might be worth it to crash there tonight.” Virgil had checked the area once he saw the star getting close to his town. Breaking into places would cause him a heck of a lot of anxiety over what would happen if they got caught but facing a screaming fit from his parents was worse.

Remus didn't care though, already loading the car and rushing over to Ro. “My soulmate wants us to break into a place a bit away so I'm stealing the car. Either get your soulmate to let you stay over or come find us. I'll park as close in front of the place as Vi-vi lets me.”

Now they were a bit closer Virgil could see Remus was identical to Ro. It felt sort of like he was high on sleep deprivation and meeting his soulmate, all his anxiety muffled through a fog of knowing change had arrived and he wouldn't have to pander to his parents religion anymore.

This was just the start of an adventure but he could keep the star close by now.

[iceshard1011]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Sanders Sides (Web Series) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Anxiety | Virgil/Creativity | Roman/Logic | Logan/Morality | Patton, Kaimi Alvi/Katrina "Calamity" Santos Characters: Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders, Anxiety | Virgil Sanders, Morality | Patton Sanders, Logic | Logan Sanders, Original Characters, (credit of patentpending), Misleading Compliment | Missy Sanders, (mentioned) Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Superheroes/Superpowers, Angst with a Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, Inspired by Fanfiction, Unreliable Narrator, Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders Has PTSD, Crying, References to Depression, Anxiety Attacks, Misunderstandings, Brief Internalized Transphobia, it's LAMP but there's a focus on Prinxiety, because i'm a predictable nerd, Miscommunication, spoilers for patentpending's Powerless, for the love of god read that first, 1. it's a good read, and 2. this will spoil the hell out of it Summary:

Three times Roman panicked over Virgil, and one time Virgil panicked over Roman.

Speculated alternate universal continuation of patentpending’s Powerless.

okay, did this for @patentpending. hope it’s okay! x 5k word fic is below, but please heed the spoiler warnings.

Patton got it slightly worse than Logan. Kaimi, the passionate yet kind-hearted and humble reporter — a sweet girl who couldn’t stand a mere picture of a drop of blood — was somewhere between the two. Perhaps unsurprisingly, however, ex-superhero Roman ‘The Prince’ Garcia had it the worst.

The actor could hardly be blamed. He had already suffered a fair amount of nightmares, waking up with a jolt in his penthouse’s bed, with Missy blinking sleepily up at him and asking what was wrong.

One doesn’t simply live through years of battles and fighting and bloodshed and walk away without demons. The names across Roman’s chest said as much.

He had seen his fair share of death over years of being The Prince, and while admitting this was sickening, it was not something Roman was unfamiliar with. He’d watched people die in front of him. He had caused many of the deaths himself during the fights.

He knew all this.

He also knew that it was completely logical to react to a particular, recent death in a particularly violent, particularly traumatised manner.

(He also knew he was never particularly good at listening to anyone, even himself.)

Sometimes, Roman Garcia had bad days. Days where he woke up and felt sick to his stomach for just existing. Days where he struggled to move, because the images flashing through his mind made his head spin. Days where he couldn’t look anyone in the eyes, where he barely ate, where he quailed away from comforting touches and wanted to slam his hands over the sides of his head and scream when voices tried to ask what was wrong.

He wasn’t sure what these days meant. He felt too much to be depressed. It went on far too long to be anxiety attacks. It felt too different to the post-traumatic stress episodes he had when struggling to find his way home after the sun had set.

(But he never voiced any of this, because somehow, he had a feeling Logan would vehemently disagree, which spoke levels of itself.)

Sometimes, Roman could feel the Bad Days approaching. Sometimes he struggled to fall asleep, with a strange pit curling inside him somewhere. Sometimes, it didn’t travel into the following day.

Most times, though, it did.

It was one of those Bad Days. Sometimes Roman tried to ignore it. He tried to act his way out of it. He didn’t like having Bad Days, not only because they made him feel like he was literally dying and he wanted it to stop he wanted to stop thinking stop moving stop breathing he wanted it to stop stop stop STOP!

But because he didn’t want to take away from his family’s bad days. Even with Patton’s coloured wristbands, the little puffball still struggled sometimes — and that was okay! They all always did their best to make sure the heart of their group was okay, and comfortable, and did everything they could.

Logan’s back still ached some days. Sometimes, it was so bad he couldn’t move from bed, and had to spend hours trying to just sit up. It was painful to watch, and Roman knew he hated sympathy, so he did his best not to show the way his heart twisted at the sight of the astronomer’s pain.

Virgil covered his bad days so well. Roman imagined it was the built-up practice of having days throughout his entire life dealing with dysphoria and discrimination and judgement and being spat on and ridiculed for something he couldn’t help. He may have been used to those kinds of bad days, but obviously not the days brought on by guilt, by the thoughts of what the thing  he  created did to people all over the world, the destruction and horror and death, all in the wake of his too-brilliant mind and too-nimble fingers. Those days were usually preceded by slow days with not much activity, phantom pains, struggling movements to do so much as hold a mug with his prosthetic arm.

It really wasn’t a surprise that Roman’s Bad Days followed Virgil’s.

So, he tried to smile, tried to stop his hands from shaking, tried to not crumble with every step he took.

Somehow, it was never enough.

On this particular Bad Day, Roman was trembling. He did that, sometimes, when it was really bad. He couldn’t stop. It was a constant tremor, in his nerves, shooting through his blood, curling in his limbs, shuddering up his body.

He had done his best to avoid his roommates. He had slept in that morning, half genuinely trying to go back to sleep, half feigning sleep whenever Virgil quietly shuffled into the room to check on him. When he finally got out from under the covers, he spent at least an hour and a half in the bathroom, under scalding shower water and making himself more presentable than strictly necessary as he  knew he was not going to be mentally equipped to leave the apartment today.

“‘Morning,” a quiet, gruff voice greeted Roman as he finally mustered up the coward to step out of the comforts of his bedroom.

Almost immediately, the confidence he’d been trying to summon all morning threatened to leave him.

Roman swallowed. “Good morning, Sunshine!” he chirped merrily, gliding into the living room. “Where’s the rest of the fam?”

“Went out for lunch,” Virgil said from the kitchen. Roman blinked, and Virgil glanced over his shoulder at the silence. “It’s one in the afternoon, Ro.”

“Oh.” Roman felt slightly faint, but he wasn’t sure if that was part of having a Bad Day.

“You must have had something of a busy night.” Virgil smirked and skulked from the kitchen, moving over to him, and Roman wondered if he was going to need to rush back into the bathroom. “Insatiable thoughts keeping you up, love?”

Roman’s tongue was heavy. “Not quite,” was all he could murmur in reply.

Virgil’s perfect brow furrowed, his gorgeous eyes flicking with worry, and his lips were  not  flecked with blood, that was just Roman’s imagination, they were in the apartment and it was fine, and oh god, he was losing it, he couldn’t keep it together, not today, not right now, he was going to— he needed—

“Roman!” Virgil’s yelp of concern was drowned out by the roaring in Roman’s ears as he threw up in the kitchen trash can. The ex-hero’s arms trembled in an effort to keep him up.

Focus, focus. It’s okay. It’s fine.

Gravity felt like it was trying it’s best to drag him to the ground. He felt just like he had when he’d first lost his powers, trembling and scared and desperate—

He heaved again.

There was a smooth, rubbing sensation running up and down his back, and it helped as he coughed and spluttered and hacked up more bile.

“Oh, baby,” Virgil’s voice whispered, and Roman’s stomach twisted again, but he had nothing left to throw up. “I didn’t know you were feeling sick.”

“‘M not,” Roman mumbled, feeling light-headed.

“Let’s get you back to bed, yeah?” Virgil murmured, and Roman felt boneless as his boyfriend guided him into their bedroom. Something damp and warm wiped at his face and he pulled away with a grimace. Something else was thrust in his face, and he squinted at it.

“Rinse and spit,” Virgil ordered, gesturing to the glass of water and the tub he was holding. Roman obeyed without protest, then sunk back down against the bed sheets he’d fought so hard to escape from.

He wasn’t sure how much time passed, but it seemed to go far too quick before Virgil was back beside him.

“Did you eat something funky?” Virgil asked, pressing a blessedly cold hand to Roman’s flushed forehead. “No one else was feeling ill.”

It took a minute for Roman to realise that the reason Virgil’s hand was so cold wasn’t due to his natural lack of normal bodily heat, but because it was his metal hand. The one he had made for himself, after he had lost it, after his eyes had widened and gone pale and—

Roman was going to be sick again.

He wondered, though, if he was going to vomit, why Virgil had not rushed to get something for him and had instead sat on the edge of the bed and pulled Roman against him.

It was a moment before he realised that the thing bursting from his chest wasn’t vomit, but hoarse, screaming wails.

Virgil hushed him over and over again. He ran his hands — only one hand really, and god Roman’s chest was hurting, was he even breathing? — up and down Roman’s back, through his hair, caressing his cheeks, rubbing his arms. Anything and everything to try and soothe his boyfriend.

Virgil would be lying if he said he wasn’t scared. He had never seen Roman like this. Even at his wits end as a hero, even in the heat of a battle, no matter what had happened, Roman had never broken like this, ever.

Virgil, in no way, thought Roman was broken, as a rule. He wasn’t useless or weak or any of the things he knew Roman struggled with labelling himself. After everything, he was still one of the strongest people Virgil knew, and he had met many people over the course of a few months.

So what on Earth could have set Roman off? He knew sometimes that the ex-hero struggled with not being able to zip around town to nab food, or smell the far-off ocean, or hear his family’s heartbeat unless he was pressed against their chest… but he had never broken down just like this.

Maybe it was a build-up. Maybe it was everything that had piled onto him spilling out. It was certainly a possibility, wasn’t it?

But then Virgil pressed his hand — the right one — to Roman’s flushed cheek, and his boyfriend  keened,  jerking away from him and scrambling back across the bed.

Horrified, Virgil raised his hands.

“Hey, sorry, baby,” he said, as gently as he could.

Roman’s chest was heaving, the only colour in his face from the flush of loss of oxygen from crying. His eyes were wide and wild and darted around. He was shaking all over. He’d stopped screaming, but his mouth still hung open, like he meant to keep crying but had rubbed his throat raw.

“What is it?” Virgil asked, and Roman met his eyes. “Tell me what’s happening, Ro.”

Roman looked like he was torn between reaching for Virgil and tearing into his own scalp — and, well, Virgil knew which one he personally preferred.

“Can I come over?” he asked. Roman buried his face into his knees and whimpered. “I’m going to sit next to you, okay?” He slowly shuffled forward, making sure to be as obvious about where he was at all times. He leaned forward so his breath brushed against Roman’s bangs. He didn’t touch him. “Hey.”

Roman didn't look up, but his quivering, pale, sweaty hand moved from where it was clutching the blankets and inched over to grasp the edge of Virgil’s sleeve.

“I’m here,” he assured Roman softly. “Just take your time.” Roman’s shoulders shook. Slowly, carefully, Virgil linked their pinkies together. “Breathe, Pretty Boy. You’re okay.”

“I’m— sorry, I’m sorry—” Roman gasped, but Virgil cut him off.

“Ah-ah.” He shuffled ever closer, brushing their legs together. “No apologising.”

“I couldn’t— I— you—”

“Breathe.” Virgil pulled Roman’s hand up by the sleeve, not kissing it but just barely pressing his lips to his boyfriend’s calloused knuckles. “Four, seven, eight, remember? Four, seven, eight.”

Roman nodded unsteadily.

They sat like that, for what could have been minutes or hours, Virgil wasn’t sure. Logan and Patton hadn’t planned on returning for another few hours, so that allowed the pair to sit in relative silence. Roman’s heavy breaths still shook in the still air, and every now and then he whimpered. Virgil didn’t move to touch him. Roman didn’t pull away. Virgil wondered if he had had a sensory overload.

“Do you want the fidget cube?” he asked softly. Roman hesitated.

“Where is it?” he asked in a rasping voice.

“Wherever you last left it,” Virgil answered with a smirk. He made to pull away. “I’ll go find it.”

Roman’s grip tightened. “No!”

Virgil froze and slowly moved back. “Okay. Staying here.”

“Th-thank you,” he gasped. “I-if you leave, I’m scared— I’ll— spiral—”

Virgil’s throat thickened with the urge to cut him off and tell him to breathe, but maybe Roman needed to say what he was thinking.

“I’ll see— red— it’ll be red and gold all over again— and I can’t— I won’t—”

Virgil frowned. What on Earth was he talking about? He squeezed their fingers.

“Can’t do that again, Virgil, I can’t!”

“Okay,” Virgil said. “I won’t leave.”

“Please don’t,” Roman agreed with a sob. “Please don’t leave me. Please.  Please.”

“I won’t. I’m not.” Virgil pressed carefully closer. “I’m right here. I’m staying here.”

Roman shuddered and finally lifted his head. His eyes, bloodshot and tired, met Virgil’s, and he had to bite back a gasp.

Roman looked shattered. Like someone had taken something that meant the world to him and thrown it to the ground and let the pieces break into millions of tiny little pieces so small and far and in between that there was no hope of ever rebuilding what he’d lost. There was a lump lodging itself in Virgil’s throat.

“What is it, Roman?” he asked, quietly, desperately. “Please talk to me. Let me help. I want to help.”

“Make me stop thinking about it,” Roman begged. “Please, Virgil. I can’t— I can’t live like this anymore, I want it to stop, I need it to stop!”

“What, baby?” Virgil whispered fervently, moving to kneel in front of Roman and press his hands to his face. “What do I need to stop?”

Roman caved, fresh tears rolling down his face, and he reached up to grasp onto Virgil’s right hand. Virgil couldn’t feel it, but he could see Roman’s knuckles going white in his grip.

It took approximately three seconds.

And then—

Oh.

“Oh.” Virgil’s voice was choked. He was half worried he was going to throw up next. “Oh, Roman…”

“I keep— having these days— bad days, where I can’t think about anything else, and it’s— it’s hard, to function, to do anything, really, and I want to be near you — I really, really do, always, forever, but it gets scary, and it hurts, and all I can think about is— is—!”

“Can I hug you?” Virgil asked.

“Please,” sobbed Roman. “Please, please, hug me.”

Half of a second later, Virgil was curled around Roman, protecting him from all angles of the world, wishing more than anything that he could protect Roman from the battle waging inside his own mind.

He thought it could have been the lack of Roman’s powers. If that was the case, love and admiration was required.

If it had been a flashback, or Missy, then a distraction was in order.

If it had been literally anything else, Virgil would have been prepared.

His dumb ass had never once considered anything before or after the moment he woke up, disorientated, and confused in the clearing of that tower, Roman bent over him and shaking like he was now.

Whenever Roman quailed away from his touch, Virgil had always thought that it was a recovering-from-abuse day. When Roman stayed in his room all day, Virgil thought he needed to be by himself for the time. When he refused to meet Virgil’s eyes, he thought he was still mad at him for creating that weapon that destroyed so many lives. When Roman turned Virgil down during nights when he was feeling excited and hungry and that pulling want to be pressed against him, Virgil had let himself worry that it was because he was wrong, because Roman didn’t want someone like him.

All this time, Virgil had been worrying about himself, while Roman had been slowly crumbling under horror and blood.

Virgil swallowed down the emotion clogging his throat.

What the hell was wrong with him?

“I love you,” Roman was saying, over and over and over again, and “I’m sorry, sorry, so sorry,” and Virgil couldn’t have either of that going unchecked.

“Shh,” he hummed, rubbing his back. “It’s okay. Breathe. You haven’t done anything wrong.”

Roman looked up, opening his mouth to protest, but Virgil pressed his finger to his boyfriend’s lips. “Ah-ah,” he said softly, “no apologising.” More tears squeezed from Roman’s eyes. Virgil pressed their foreheads together. “I love you, too.”

Roman hiccupped. More tears rolled down his face.

That’s it, Virgil decided. Arms still around Roman, he sent a quick text to Logan and Patton, either to not worry about returning in time for dinner or being extra quiet when they came back. Then he pulled back (and pressed a kiss to Roman’s temple when he made a wounded noise at the retreat) and moved to close the blinds before wriggling from his binder. He shuffled them both beneath the bed covers.

“Nap time,” he declared.

Roman looked startled. “It’s barely noon.”

“Nap time,” Virgil insisted, and Roman relented. “Come here.” Gently, Virgil guided Roman’s head down to his chest, where he could rest his ear directly over Virgil’s heartbeat. A long, long breath blew from Roman’s nose. His own heartbeat, which had previously been thudding madly against Virgil’s stomach, slowly calmed.

Smiling, Virgil slipped his headphones from his pocket and connected them to his phone. He picked a calming but engaging playlist and offered Roman one bud. Tension slowly, slowly, bled out of his tight frame.

Virgil kissed the top of his boyfriend’s head.

“I’m here,” he said again, and this time it meant something entirely different. “I love you.”

Between Virgil’s gentle breath ever-so-slightly ruffling the crown of Roman’s hair, his steady-beating heart thumping under one ear and the calming music in the other, Roman fell asleep quickly.

After that, Roman didn’t have as many Bad Days. Or, maybe he did, and he just didn't remember, because now Virgil knew what to look for, and how to fix it. Roman also had a sneaking suspicion that Virgil had let something slip to the others, because they were always just as helpful as Virgil when he wasn’t around.

Sometimes, though, it wasn’t so much as it was the random Bad Days, as it was bad nights.

Roman was standing on the very top of the tower. The sun was setting gloriously over the ocean, casting the city in a beautiful golden-orange glow that reflected off the brown of Roman’s eyes. Wind ruffled at his hair. He could smell the sea spray. He could hear children laughing as they walked home from school. His chest swelled. This was his city, and he had done well with it.

“Don’t flatter yourself, Princey,” Virgil said beside him, and Roman’s heart beat harder at the small smirk he shot his way. “You had some help.”

Roman grinned, sauntering over to raise an eyebrow down at his adversary. “That I did. I really must thank Calamity at some point.”

“Oh, sure, for being thrown into a tree?” Virgil rolled his eyes, a smile of his own tugging at his lips. Roman almost wanted to eat that look off his face.

So he did.

And after a heated make-out session perched precariously on top of the highest point in the city, Roman took the time to just stare into those gorgeous, thunderous eyes.

You’re beautiful, he thought, all the time. You’re stunning. You’re so clever and strong, and I wish I could be anywhere near worthy of you or your time. You deserve more than this could have ever given you.

“I love you,” he said, because he could, now, he had learnt how to.

Virgil grinned that happy, carefree grin.

“So this is who you’ve replaced me for,” a pleasant, chilling voice said from behind Roman.

He turned, narrowly missing a strange, thrumming attack from Missy, and glared at her.

“What the hell are you doing here?” he demanded. Her smile was innocent compared to what she practically purred.

“Only what I’m best at.”

Roman’s lip curled angrily as she leaned forward, her voice a whisper against his ear.

He wouldn’t actually remember what she had said to him, then. He would only hear a quiet gasp, not quite a breath and not quite a wheeze, sounding simultaneously right at his neck and a hundred yards from him.

He turned, but he lost his footing, and suddenly he wasn’t standing on the tower anymore, and he couldn’t reach out, he couldn't  move,  gravity was dragging him down and he couldn’t get to Virgil and Virgil was already dead and Missy had won and he was powerless and useless and he couldn’t do anything and—

“Roman! Ro, breathe! It’s okay! It’s alright, breathe.”

Roman blinked, and he was sitting on a soft ground, in a dark room…

He swallowed, and the bedroom was suddenly very, very quiet. He coughed, his raw, and wondered how long he’d been screaming for.

Roman rubbed his throat gingerly as a pair of hands flittered about, pressing against his body, his face, accompanied by a murmuring, reassuring voice. Lips pressed to his forehead, his temple, his nose, cheek, chin, eyelids, everywhere they could reach, and Roman heaved a breath.

Finally, he managed to meet Virgil’s gaze through his own fear and the dark room.

“Hey, Stormcloud,” he croaked. “Sorry for waking you.”

Virgil cut him off by kissing him soundly on the lips. “What have I told you about apologising?”

“If it gets me a kiss each time, I think I’m inclined to keep doing it,” Roman said with a sore attempt for a smile. Virgil didn’t comment on the rough edges of his expression, the way his voice wavered, or how his hands shook. He wrapped his arms around Roman’s chest, resting his head on his shoulder.

“What was it?” Virgil asked, because most times Roman took solstice in admitting his fears, especially when they came in the form of a nightmare.

Roman wrapped his arms around Virgil’s waist and dragged him to sit practically in his lap. “Nothing.”

There was a pause, because he was obviously lying, and there was only one nightmare Roman refused to talk about. Virgil knew this, and he never pushed. He didn’t need to, anyway.

“Well.” He pressed a kiss to Roman’s shoulder, slowly moving up to his neck. Roman sagged against him, glad for the contact. Virgil nuzzled into his boyfriend. “Nothing sure seems like a whole lot.”

“Unfortunately,” Roman agreed somberly.

“Think you can go back to sleep?” Virgil murmured. Roman twisted to bury his face in his soft, purple hair.

“Cuddle?” Roman asked tentatively, because sometimes Virgil tightened his binder too much and Roman never wanted to cause him any discomfort.

Virgil smiled, because he knew Roman worried, and he was never opposed to cuddling. “Of course.” He guided the two of them down, letting Roman snuggle up to his chest in his favourite position, where he could feel Virgil’s heartbeat and feel his breath.

Virgil wrapped his arounds around Roman’s torso and squeezed reassuringly. Roman was already asleep again. Virgil fell asleep himself with a smile on his face. Neither of them woke until broken morning light was streaming onto their faces.

Roman wasn’t entirely sure what had happened.

He remembered Calamity stumbling into the city centre, yelling for everyone to get down. He remembered being confused moments before the place exploded in flames. He remembered groaning and realising Virgil had thrown them to the ground, covering him with his right side. He remembered Patton fussing over the four of them, assured they were all okay and uninjured.

Kaimi may have been there, at some point, helping them to usher everyone away.

He remembered the new supervillain picking a fight with Calamity. He might have remembered Kaimi’s outraged cries when she hit the ground.

He remembered as he rushed for Calamity’s side, and she was fine, but then the villain’s focus was on them.

He remembered feeling that same old frustrated agitation at being useless, powerless. Helpless.

He remembered Virgil stepping in to try and defuse the situation. He definitely remembered the villain raising a weird-looking gun in his boyfriend’s direction.

And from there out, he was back on that tower. He was throwing himself at Missy, tearing and batting and punching and fighting with everything he had because he had to keep her away. He was without powers, but he was still strong, and he was determined, and he wasn’t going to let her hurt him again, she would never hurt anyone again.

And then they were both falling, and Missy was shrieking beneath him, except it wasn’t Missy, it was the villain, and they were beaten to all hell, and god, had he done that? And there were flashing lights, and people talking, some were shouting, and he was still twisting, still kicking, still fighting—

“Hey, hey!” Virgil’s voice said, and Roman froze. His vision cleared. His boyfriend, whole and unharmed and okay and concerned, so damn concerned, was in front of him, cold hands on either side of his face.

Roman lost himself in those seas of grey and silver, and all the fight left him. He collapsed into Virgil’s chest, pressing his face into his boyfriend’s neck.

“Kaimi, get some help!” Virgil shouted over Roman’s head, and he tried shaking his head.

“‘M okay, Virge,” he mumbled. Virgil hushed him. Cool hands ran through his hair, and he melted.

The rest of it was a blur.

Nothing caught up with Roman until he was mildly thinking that he wasn’t hungry enough to eat this cookie, and he blinked, confused.

He looked up and around him, taking in the interior of Bake My Day. It was dark outside, and empty. The sign on this side of the door said, Welcome! We are OPEN. He looked down at the plate of Crofters Jam cookies in the middle of the table shared between him, Virgil, Logan and Patton.

He blinked spastically, trying to make sense of what was happening.

“Hey, Pretty Boy.” A hand was clutching his. Roman looked across at Virgil, who smiled at him. “How’re you doing?”

“I…” Roman tried to speak, but his mouth was dry.

“It’s okay, kiddo,” Patton murmured, rubbing his back.

“You went into shock,” Logan explained. “You didn’t respond on the way to the hospital, or the way back here. We were told it would fade by itself.”

Roman blinked again. “What happened?”

No one seemed keen to answer that question.

“Kaimi and Katrina went home,” Patton answered without answering. “They were both okay. The police took care of the villain. He doesn’t have a name yet, apparently.”

“I… I mean to me,” Roman said weakly. “What happened to me?”

“We don’t know,” Logan said quietly. “You… snapped.”

“You got so angry.” Patton’s voice trembled; almost scared. “You just… lost it. You threw yourself at that villain like you still had your powers. It was…” The purple wristband was flush against their skin as they clasped their hands together too tightly to be comfortable. “It was so scary.”

Roman recoiled slightly, stricken. Logan didn’t notice, too busy focusing on Patton, rubbing his thumb gently along their hands.

“It wasn’t you that was scary.”

Roman looked around to see Virgil had moved from his seat across from him and was now crouching beside his chair. “It was the idea of your actions. How reckless you got.” A hint of a smile played at Virgil’s lips. “You looked kind of hot, being that badass.”

Roman couldn’t find similar happiness in himself. “I attacked that… that person.”

Virgil worked his jaw before nodding mutely.

Roman blinked rapidly, trying desperately to work out how to feel. He opened and closed his mouth as Virgil stood, rubbing his hands into Roman’s shoulders.

“I wasn’t… here,” he said finally, and Logan and Patton glanced at him. He kept his focus on Virgil and those beautiful eyes of his, willing him to understand, to not make him explain it. “I was… I was back there again.”

Virgil softened ever-so-gently, and Roman felt a tidal wave of relief crash into him at the understanding.

“I’m sorry,” he found himself saying, although he knew Virgil hated it. “I don’t mean to do it. Sometimes it just happens, I can’t help it. It’s so stupid, I’m stupid, god, I’m so dumb, I wish I would stop, I’m so—”

Virgil’s lips were on his, cutting his stream of words short. Roman closed his eyes, relishing the feeling of his boyfriend pressed against him. He gripped Virgil’s waist, taking the time to calm his racing mind. He was in Bake My Day. Virgil was kissing him. Logan and Patton could either be cooing or looking exasperated.

When Virgil pulled back, his voice was quiet, subdued. “I think I have to stop rewarding you for this kind of thing.”

“I’m not so sure,” Roman said, leaning forward for another kiss.

“If I may interject,” said Logan, carefully, “Roman?”

Only a little peeved, Roman turned from his boyfriend to the astronomer, who looked rightly sheepish, but there was something else in his eyes — apprehension, but with touches of something softer, kinder.

“What you’re feeling is natural. It’s healing. Have you… brought this up with Dr. Picani?”

Roman ducked his head. Logan sighed expectantly.

“I know, I know,” Roman grumbled. “I’ll… next time we go, okay? Is that okay?” he asked Virgil, who of course smiled and kissed his cheek, murmuring a soft,  Yeah.

“I’m—” Roman cut himself, despite Patton’s curious look. “Tired,” he finished himself, with a woozy smile.

Patton smiled back. “It’s been a big day. Why don’t we retire for the night?”

The night air was cool as it swirled around the four of them, laughing and joking. Logan groaned and Virgil smirked at Patton’s puns. Patton squeezed Roman’s hands, and Virgil rested his head on Roman’s shoulder. Logan got caught in a lecturing infodump about some fascinating concept he’d recently discovered.

Roman thought that maybe, as they walked hand-in-hand, he was going to be okay.

It wasn’t often that anyone made moves on Roman.

Not only was he quite physically intimidating and quite often surrounded by a group of friends, more often than not he had a purple-haired gremlin he had dubbed early on as “his boyfriend” at his side.

Even then, however, when he wasn't around any of his family members, and off by himself (on rare occasions), it wasn’t something he had on his mind.

Until he ventured off to look at some stall in the distance that looked like it could be selling Disney posters.

Markets took up this side of the city every Sunday, and Roman had begged and pleaded to go ever since he found out. He didn’t want to go alone, because where would the fun in that be? Finally, eventually, Virgil had agreed, followed by Logan. (Patton had never needed much convincing.)

And now Roman was mightily regretting it. Both dragging the others along to the festive markets and darting away from them to go look at something by himself.

Roman was good at saying no. He was!

He was just also… easily flustered.

“Oh, come on, pretty boy,” the man before him purred, and Roman wrinkled his nose.

“Like I said,” he bit out firmly, “I’m fine.”

“You are,” the man agreed, and he almost reminded Roman of supervillain Remy The Sandman. “I could take you back to my place, if—”

“It is the middle of the day,” Roman said. Just walk away, his instincts snarled at him, sounding familiarly like Virgil, and for once Roman listened.

He turned.

And his arm was grabbed.

Roman jolted, surprised. He hadn’t been touched like that before, by a stranger. Not like this, anyway, where his muscles and bones were just as fragile as everyone else’s, and he could bruise, and bleed, and it was a very startling truth.

He was so shocked that he didn’t think to pull away while the man leaned in, breath nipping at his chin.

Then the man cried out, and his hand released Roman’s arm, and Virgil was raising a second fist to hit the man again.

“Not your metal arm, babe,” Roman said automatically, and Virgil paused. After a moment of indecision, he kicked the man’s knee, and he cried out again, dropping to the ground.

“Do yourself a favour and piss off,” Virgil snarled. His face was contorted with fury. One fist was shaking with rage, the other creaking under the strain he was putting it. Roman’s pursuer quailed away with a scowl, then limped off.

Roman was still in a daze as Virgil whirled on him, his face instantly flickering back to worried and loving and affectionate and god, Roman was so,  so in love.

“Are you okay?” Virgil was asking frantically, his eyes scanning his boyfriend. “Are you hurt? Did he do anything to you?”

“I’m a hot mess,” Roman confessed pragmatically.

Virgil stared at him uncomprehendingly. “Meaning…?”

“You are very, very attractive when you’re pissed.”

Virgil flushed, his eyebrows raising. “Oh. Um.” He rubbed the back of his neck, embarrassed, and a smile tugged itself onto Roman’s face.

“It’s okay,” he assured him. “You’re always very attractive anyway, so I’m mostly used to it.”

“Oh, stop,” Virgil told him. Roman did, though only in favour of kissing him until they were both breathless.

[aelin-queen-of-terrasen]

Can you do a Rowaelin where Aelin is sick but refuses to admit it and Rowan is trying to get her to go to bed?

Thank you for the request! I hope you'll like it more than I do. 😂 Masterlist

but will you stay?

Rowan loved his girlfriend to bits but he had never known someone as stubborn as her in all his life. That was why when her roommate called to inform him she was sick, he went into what Aelin loved to call his 'overprotective bastard' mode. His voice dropped low, shoulders tensed and he was out of his apartment before Dorian finished talking.

"Has she taken some meds?" he asked.

Dorian paused on the other side to recall. He said, "I don't know. Should I check? I love Aelin but she can be a little obstinate sometimes."

Rowan rolled his eyes. That was an understatement if he'd ever heard one. He'd known Aelin for a long time and for all her qualities, she was as stubborn as an oaf, especially when her health was concerned. That was how he'd met her after all—Fenrys and her had gotten into some accident and he'd fainted, leaving her to call the ambulance. She had been in much worse shape than him when help arrived and refused to let anyone treat her until she made sure her best friend was fine. Rowan looked at the flaming rings of gold in those turquoise eyes to know he was a goner.

He answered, "Let her be. I've almost arrived, I'll make sure she's fine."

"Thanks. I'd stay with her myself but I'd have to ask Dad for another leave. Plus, she doesn't listen to me—"

Rowan assured in a firm voice, "It's no trouble, I don't mind. I have a day off, I'd probably have spent it with her." He hoped it was enough. Rowan didn't want him feeling bad about this. Babysitting his girlfriend who insisted on behaving like a petulant child was not something he minded.

He climbed up the stairs, then knocked on the door once. Dorian received him with a smile, dressed for work. "Aelin! Look who has come. What a surprise!"

Aelin looked up from her book and grinned. "You are one bad liar, Dor." She directed her smile towards Rowan. "Regardless, this is a nice surprise."

He went to wrap his arms around her but she latched on, burying her face in his shoulder. "Fireheart, did you take a medicine?" Her grimace was enough to confirm his suspicions. "I came here to take care of you. I'll can't do that until you sit your ass back down on the couch."

Aelin pouted. "I'm hurt, buzzard. I was misled to believe you came to spend time with me."

Rowan rolled his eyes, making his way towards her bedroom where medicines would be kept. Dorian left with a quick goodbye and when Rowan entered the living room again, Aelin looked at him with those big sad eyes she used to have her way with him.

No one could resist that face, least of all Rowan Whitethorn. "What now?"

"I don't need those medicines. It tastes so sweet, I want to puke," she made a face at her words.

Rowan smiled. "I know. You didn't take care of yourself so this is what happened. Now, you'll have to deal with the consequences, fireheart."

Aelin shook her head in a stubborn 'no' before she faced the other way. Rowan sighed. When Aelin was determined about something, she was not the one to back off in the end. But he won't take his chances. If he had to, Rowan would shove it down her throat. He tried a different approach for now. "Fine. Hear me out, Ace?"

"I don't care—"

"Please?"

"No."

"I could—"

"Nope."

"You need—"

"I don't."

"Aelin, don't be stu—"

"Ro, have I introduced you to my good friend—no?"

Rowan rolled his eyes, knowing he only had one card left to play. "If you let me take care of you, I will spend the day here, we can make this a movie date."

Aelin raised a brow. "My choice?"

"Your choice," he confirmed, knowing perfectly well he'd regret it later.

"Even that horror movie Elide left here after the last girls night?" she asked.

Rowan hesitated. "You know you're afraid of clowns. I don't think that's a good idea—" he was interrupted by a loud whine from his girlfriend.

"You said it's my choice."

"Fine," Rowan agreed. "But if you get scared later, I will say I told you so."

Aelin agreed, mumbling something about how nothing could scare her and sitting up on the couch. She did as Rowan asked, taking the medicine, then finishing the soup he cooked. He checked her temperature once all was done, then sat down beside her on the couch. She snuggled closer to him, covered in blankets, head resting on her boyfriend's chest.

Instead of the movie, Rowan watched her face instead—the way her eyes crinkled when she smiled at some cute moment, the way they widened out of cautiousness sometimes, the way she jumped slightly when the clowns appeared on the screen. If he knew her at all, Aelin would rather die than admit she was scared. Her pride would never allow it. He couldn't keep the amusement off his face when she yelped at a particularly scary scene.

When she noticed his grin, she said, "I'm not scared. It took me by surprise."

Minutes passed. He didn't miss the way her grip tightened around his arm, almost bruising. Before the movie reached it's conclusion, Rowan stood up and made an excuse about using the bathroom and hid behind a curtain as he peeked into the living room.

She looked around when the floorboard creaked, her voice high-pitched. "Rowan? If you're trying to scare me, it won't work." Except he knew it was already working.

She paused the movie, eyes on her phone. With soft footsteps, Rowan sneaked up behind her and whispered in her ear in a deep voice, "Hello, princess."

The fear in her eyes was comical as Aelin shot up and let out a scream that echoed through the whole planet. He would have laughed if she hadn't delivered a punch to his face in her haze, shouting like a madwoman until she realised who he was. Her cheeks were more flushed than what they'd been when he arrived that morning, the tip of her nose turned pink. She was sweating and he couldn't tell if it was because of the fever or the scare he'd given her.

She pouted. "That wasn't fair."

"I'm sorry," he said with a smile, not sounding very sorry at all. "Now I'll have a black eye to show for it." His face did hurt like a bitch, eyes starting to water.

"You deserve it. I thought you were an assassin. Let's finish the movie." He wanted to tell her it wasn't a good idea but Aelin silenced him with a look and je knew she would hear none of it.

Not five minutes after the movie was resumed, she stopped muffling her shouts, face buried in his chest every time a ghost popped up. When it was almost over, she whined out, "Who let me watch this? This was a bad bad idea." Her eyes were still fixed on the screen.

Rowan pressed a kiss to her cheek. "I told you so, princess."

She looked up at him, then yawned. Her eyes were half-shut already, she was draped across the couch and he knew it won't be long before she fell asleep. Good, he thought, She needed it. She had buried herself in work so much recently, he was surprised she didn't fall sick sooner.

"Sleep, princess," he told her.

She replied with an "I can't. I'll have nightmares of that-that thing." The words were barely coherent, slurred in her exhaustion.

"I'll stay awake and keep this a ghost free zone."

"Promise you won't leave?" she asked, making doe-eyes at him.

The look overwhelmed him with emotions, he sat there in silence as she nodded off to sleep. It occured to him that he did mean his promise. He wouldn't leave her, couldn't leave her if he tried. He wanted to wake up next to her, wanted to have so many lazy days like this, with her passed out on his chest, both of them lying on the couch. He had never been one to make plans for the future but lately, every time he thought about it, he couldn't imagine it without her by his side. Rowan knew he wanted to spend the rest of his life by her side, knowing he had the privilege of calling Aelin Galathynius his.

That was the afternoon Rowan Whitethorn decided he wanted to make Aelin Galathynius his wife.

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

note: so those who are waiting for dancing in the dark, new chapter, it will be out soon. for now, hope y'all enjoyed this one. thanks for reading!

tags: @thesirenwashere // @judexcardanxgreenbriar //@fangirltrash74 // @the-dark-swan // @queenofgreenbriar // @clockworkgraystairs // @julemmaes // @rowaelinforeverworld // @mymultiversee // @queen-of-glass // @strangely-constructed-soul // @mijaldraws // @http-itsrebecca // @aesthetics-11 // @lord-douglas-the-third // @flowersinvegas // @towhateverend17 // @aelinchocolatelover // @justabunchoffandoms // @cool-ish-nerd // @faerie-queen-fireheart // @sad-book-whore // @didsomeonesayviolin // @atozfantazyxx // @hizqueen4life // @the-gods-killer // @booknerdproblems // @annejulianneh111 // @aelinfeyreeleven945tbln // @b00kworm // @mysweetvillain // @curlyredqueen06 // @moondancer-204 // @thesurielships // @witchling-leonor // @ladywitchling // @amren-courtofdreams // @ifinallygavein // @jlinez // @faequeenaelin // @df3ndyr // @in-love-with-caramel-macchiato // @bitchy-knees // @superspiritfestival // @xx-fiona-xx // @stardelia // @maastrash

[rhysreece]

Five in a bed and the Sixth one said.

6/7

The room is dark when Janus opens his eyes. When it doesn't get brighter, he realises he's blind. Shit. That is not supposed to happen. Last he remembers, Patton poisoned his tea, the conniving rat. But hey, he survived. Knowing Virgil, the others know he's alive too. So he waits.

He feeds the giant boas in their herpatorium, his own invention. An entire room heated to the right temperature, with everything a snake could ever want. On the lonelier nights, he sleeps with them, their twin bodies curled around him like the arm of a prince- or anyone. A small comfort, but a comfort nonetheless.

He listens the news, regrets it, and throws his phone, feeling it remateralise next to him, unscathed. Infuriating device. Wars and violence and chaos isn't what he needs right now. What he needs is the pair of footsteps approaching his door. Janus' heart flutters a little as his stormcloud knocks on the door. The brief wave of nostalgia nearly floors him, but he recovers and opens the door, confused as to their horrified response.

"Jan- Oh my god Janus sit down. You look awful."

"Why thank you, I try my best.

"Seriously, you're sheet white, what the hell."

"I wouldn't know. I'm blind."

"You're what. Blind?! That's the absolute last thing we need!"

Logan has to interject before Virgil throws something in a fight or flight reflex.

"If I may, Janus?"

"Why of course, Logan. Why are you grabbing my face-"

He starts examining Janus' eyes, and then his mouth. He winces at the residual swelling, and gags at the rotten flesh that was his tonsils. Staying clear of his fangs, fully extended as an impulse reaction, he probes around a bit more, then nods.

"The blindness is a side effect of dying by poison, and will fade. We will however need a surgery once this is over to deal with the remains of your tonsils. In the meantime, we need to go save the twins."

With no one okay with what just came out of Logan's mouth, the three make their way all over the mindscape, turning in every direction, trying to find the twins, before Janus stops, functionless eyes wide.

"I have absolutely no idea where they could be, and I'm going this way for no discernible reason and you shouldn't follow me under any circumstances."

And he's off, aided by his staff, hobbling at a fairly quick pace, only walking into a tree twice. (No one laughed, it wasn't funny.) They eventually arrive at a large, futuristic building buried in deep, tall trees.

"I think we're here. Boys, help me inside."

"Jan what is this place? It's so… Creepy."

"Well, my hoodied, hackles-raised friend, this is a cottage, and not a laboratory used to restrain sides when they get too Patton."

"Oh great. Who's in here?"

"Last I checked, everybody, but Patton has been here."

"I can't tell if that last one was a lie or not" Virgil has to stand on his tiptoes to whisper to Logan, looking far too skeptical to actually go in. The overly white box gives him so many bad vibes, but Janus is already hobbling forward, scanning himself in, so the others follow.

The inside of the lab isn't much better. Bleach white halls with stainless steel equipment, and suffocating smell of bleach and ethanol. His trainers stick out like sore thumbs against the smooth, endless white tiles, and the phantoms, yellow smoke forming ghostly figures, move in their small animations, manning reception desks, shops, and waiting areas.

Logan is doing very well to disguise his bone chilling terror of this accursed place. The faceless nurses, the endless corridors, it's given him a fair share of nightmares, and a hatred of reflective surfaces that plagues him to this day.

He follows as Janus leads them through the labyrinth, eventually ending up at a ward labelled 'Isolation Station' in colourful crayon. Three guesses as to who wrote that. He isn't sure if Virgil could tell how tightly his fists are clenched as they enter a room, with rows of square rooms, with a fake wall, one way, so the people inside could be observed without noticing. Logan has to bite back tears, and fights very hard against the urge to run. For Remus.

There, next to each other, are the twins. Remus is muttering to himself, clearly fighting against a concussion. Roman is tearing at his own skin, blood staining the white floor red with a mix of blood and tears. With a slam, Janus unlocks the stations, and feels his way to Roman's sobs, Virgil next to him, trying to calm down a violent Roman. Logan practically runs to Remus, dropping any pretenses and throwing himself into his arms, clutching him so tight it hurt them both.

"Oh my Morningstar I've missed you so much. Oh god your head. Here, lie down."

"Starlight…? I held on, like you'd tell me to. Did- Did I do okay?"

Logan practically sobs through his grin, kissing Ree's forehead gently. God he loved this man.

"Yes, dear, you did so wonderful. Rest now, I'll wake you up in a bit, and we'll deal with this concussion. I'll look after you, my sweet."

His eyes are shut before the sentence ends. Logan looks over at the others, cradling a broken Roman in their arms, and carries Remus over to join them.

"Roman. I'm glad you're okay-" "Remus!"

Roman lunges for Remus, holding him close and crying again, mumbling incoherently.

"Ro, buddy, it's okay. We're here. We're real. We love you."

"Virgil is right, Roman. The side effects of the hallucinogens will wear off soon, I can see the residue on the floor. Remus has a nasty concussion that I need to treat, and we're all hurt. Can you help us get him somewhere else?"

Roman just nods numbly, not letting go of his brother the entire time. A few hours of medical attention later, they're all properly sewed back together, and napping on two mattresses pushed together on the floor. Remus and Roman are tangled together, Logan is slumped with his head on Remus' stomach and his legs serving as pillow for Virgil, whose feet are resting next to Janus, who is cuddled up to Roman's back. Logan is the only one awake, and the feeling is overwhelming.

After months of preparing for Patton, and not touching anyone, every ghost of a breath on his palm consumes him with a burning, frantic need for more, drawing, for the first time in a very long time, tears of happiness at this brief respite, this moment to breathe and focus in the quiet. The contact is the only thing grounding him in this nightmare hospital, but for now, the imminent threat, looming and foreboding, simply doesn't exist.

As he starts to drift off, he looks over the six of them, cuddled together in this frantic, desperate drive for physical contact, and smiles, finally at peace for a brief moment.

Hold on.

Six?

[shadow-scenarios]

Omggg how you wrote out my request certainly surprised me but I totally enjoyed what you did with it!! And you said that you'd love to write a second part? Well, may I perhaps request that? 👀👀 (P.S.: I'm really relieved that you liked the idea haha, I've been sitting on it for awhile)

Hey again, simulationone!! I’m happy you like the direction I look it in. I was going to have the Reader become Akechi’s Navigator but I think that was a better direction to take it. Also, I tried a different style with this one, so I hope you like it!!

I loved the idea, it was so unique! If you have anything else that you want to request, you’re more than welcome to. By the way, this is suuuper angsty. If you don’t like that kind of thing, skip this post!!

Link to Part 1 here!!

- Nexus.

Trigger Warning: Major Character Death ;; Blood ;; Violence ;; Injuries ;; Swearing

Dance With Justice [2] | Goro Akechi

Perhaps there was a reality where she never had to hurt anyone. A world in which the Phantom Thieves never existed & justice was never an issue. Everyone could simply be happy without any concerns. However, thus was not her current fate.

This was never supposed to happen. She was going to die here, stuck in Mementos until she bled out.

{ Sat, 23 / 10 / 20XX }

Akechi had laid the plan out to her on this day: He had been given an opportunity to meet with the Phantom Thieves at the Shujin Academy. In particular, there was a panel in which a Q&A style show was being held. All they had to do was attend & imply they knew the identities of the Phantom Thieves before he ‘ inconveniently received a phone call ’. Afterwards, the group would be forcibly assembled in the Faculty Room & there they would unfurl the evidence. The photos the both of them had gathered & the video of them disappearing into the Metaverse.

As a result, they would be forced to stop committing their crimes after they took down the Palace of one individual in particular: Sae Niijima. He did admit that he was afraid for the life of his colleague because she was investigating the Phantom Thieves. If they were the perpetrators behind the metal shutdowns, she might be targeted next because she was seen as a threat.

However, there was one thing they were not to be informed about. The additional plan to arrest their leader as a warning of sorts. Additional police forces were to be sent out into the Metaverse & they would corner him when he was alone. It was quite simple but effective. All they had to do was cooperate with them.

This was all communicated to her over lunch in the school rooftop & she nodded, steeling her resolve.

{ Wed, 26 / 10 / 20XX }

Alas, the school festival came too quickly. The first day was ‘ unimportant ’, according to Akechi { although he did look rather embarrassed when she asked what happened with the Phantom Thieves... }.

It was about 20 minutes before the panel was due to start & she had already taken a seat somewhere near the centre. People were already gathered at this point because the Famous Ace Detective: Goro Akechi was going to be answering questions. Frankly, she found it quite creepy the levels most fans went to in order to see him.

Eventually the debate began. Makoto Niijima, student Council President, was hosting & essentially demanded answers related to his detective work reguarding the Phantom Theives. It was immensely impressive how he managed to dance around the answers, giving something vague yet satisfying. Was this is the life of a celebrity?

The question about the identity of the mysterious group soon came up. As her cue came, she texted him & there was the sound of Akechi’s ringtone going off. Silence spread through the auditorium in a strange mix of disappointment & comedic timing. After making a remark along the lines of not wanting to be trolled online, he quickly requested that a break be tacked on.

Quietly, she moved her way across the row & slipped out before the crowd could congest any corridors. The PE Faculty Office was easy enough to find, with many students easily offering directions. Slipping in before anyone else, there he stood.

“ Akechi. Are you ready for this? There’s no going back after we present the evidence. ”

“ Of course. The Phantom Thieves are a menace to society & by getting rid of them, people will finally feel safe in Japan. That’s what you want as well, right? ”

“ Yeah. Murderers aren’t welcome. ”

Once they had all entered, she presented the photographic evidence & introduced herself. Ryuji was in shock. Makoto seemed to be struggling to process the information. Explaining how both herself & Akechi had met, she pressed onto the point: Sae Niijima. She had to be saved from the mental shutdown culprits. An agreement of sorts was made by their rather stoic leader Akira. They would all work together to solve the cases.

{ Wed, 16 / 10 / 20XX & Thurs 17 / 11 / 20XX }

After the initial investigation into Sae’s Palace, keywords & location, these were the days of infiltration, so to speak. The Casino of Jealousy was vibrant & full of money. Coins were messily spread around on every single surface, posters containing snappy tag lines about how winning was key to survival. It was all so decadent. Cognitive shadows lined up for a chance to participate in the game known as the legal system. What a sick way to look at justice.

Despite the crimes they had committed, the Phantom Theives were very casual. They showed no symptoms of guilt nor doubt & insisted on these strangely flashy moves such as the All-Out Attack or the Showtime, in which they would defeat a bundle of enemies all at once. Although they were powerful, did they really feel the need to show off that much?

The other problem was their leader, Joker. He was tenaciously gripping onto both herself & Akechi { or Crow, was it? She never understood the need for the ridiculous code names... } to remain on the front lines to see what they could both do. Despite having bounds of energy at the beginning & regular breaks, it was quite tiring to keep having to constantly battle. Perhaps that was why she ended up being held captive by a Shadow.

It demanded Yen & safety. It was not a substantial amount of money & the Palace’s supposed ‘ Security Level ’ was not particularly high. She had seen how Akira had been picking through remains of the corpses of these beings, as they contained Yen. For some unknown reason during the negotiation, he simply refused to part. Apparently Joker, the supposed leader of the just Phantom Thieves believed some money more important than an ally.

Even as the shadow tore through skin & left almost fatal wounds, it hurt more to reaffirm her belief that the Phantom Theives were merciless.

Waking up was a surprise to be sure. To be greeted by Akechi in the nearest Safe Room asking if she was okay? It was very much a shock. He offered to patch up the wounds that were unreadable by her own hands & scolded her for being so reckless on that battlefield. It was good that both Queen & Mona were on hand, otherwise she would have died. Despite the presence of the other members of the group, this felt like a rather intimate moment.

The two of them kept having these strange moments: Delicately & intimate but as though something was missing.

A touch that lingered for longer than it needed to; Comforting words on a cool evening when she felt upset; Sitting within close proximity despite there being more space for the two of them than needed. Small signs that seemed to be hesitantly trying to convey something.

Even now as she paused to take in his appearance, it was startling. Dressed up in his princely regalia that was his Metaverse outfit, he looked rather charming. With golden tassels & a red cape, something about him seemed to just ooze noble. Though at times he could be slightly extra with the poses he pulled, Akechi was kind.

That was why she never saw it coming.

{ Thurs, 18 / 10 / 20XX }

Signaling for a meeting, Akira explained that they were going to write & send the Calling Card today. The debate about where to send it was long, strenuous & boring. After they eventually decided to be direct by mailing it to the Niijima residence, everyone disbanded for the day.

Aside for Akechi, who invited her to play Darts in Kichijoji. What a strange request.

The atmosphere was actually rather calming. At night, there were few around to disturb them. Handing over 800 Yen to play, the game began. It was nice to simply be able to talk about something unrelated to the Phantom Thieves for the both of them & although Akechi’s aim was unerring, she found it rather difficult to hit the tiny target, let alone land it in a specific place to score as many points as possible. After a while & with some expert advice, there was definitely some improvement.

By the time night struck, she had barely noticed until he had pointed it out. Everything was moving so swiftly. Offering to walk her to the train station, he was ever so polite. Until it rained.

It absolutely poured down with rain as the two of them descended the stairs of Penguin Sniper. Luckily, she had packed an umbrella into a crevice in her bag. The detective next to her? Not quite as fortunate as he sighed. Feeling bad, she offered to share & he accepted with reluctance after realising that it was better than the alternative of running home in the rain.

Being this close was both enthralling & embarrassing. Something about being forced this close to him was killing her. Akechi seemed to be doing alright, staying underneath to avoid both his hair & briefcase from becoming drenched by the cascading water. After a while that was in some respects a long time but in others not long at all, they reached the train station, parting ways when they had a difference in train line.

She knew exactly what she was feeling: There was no use in denial. Repressing such feelings would be more painful in the end. However, now was not the time to tell him. Catching the Phantom Thieves & saving Japan was more important than a high school romance. Filing the secret away for later, it was kept close to her heart.

{ Fri, 19 / 10 / 20XX }

It was almost too easy how quick everything was to fall into place. Putting on her best acting face was difficult but it was a believable lie, especially when most of the stress was based around getting Joker out alive. All their valiant efforts were for nothing. Similar to a spider spinning a web to catch prey, they had fallen victim.

After facing down the shadow of Sae Niijima herself on this strange roulette like battlefield, her desperate desire to achieve victory at all costs was her downfall & as she fell to her knees, clearly defeated, Queen went over to comfort her. Skull took Fox with him to steal the Treasure & once they discovered the numerous police forces that had made their way into the Metaverse, everything was taken up a notch.

Whilst Joker agreed to take the Treasure, thus becoming a distraction, everyone else would take the time to escape back to reality. A makeshift plan but one that would work in both her own & Akechi’s favour. Dashing along the protruding walls of the casino was thrilling as the group moved in sync, grappling along & weaving through like a natural born instinct.

Inevitably, he was captured. The leader of the Phantom Thieves, put behind bars. People would be safe from the mental shutdowns, they would no longer have to worry about having a psychotic breakdown. Without the branch that held them all together, there were no roots. As to not arouse suspicions, everyone parted ways until Akechi stopped her.

“ I... Know it’s rather late & we’ve just been to the Palace but there’s something I need to warn you about in the Metaverse. Will you join me in Mementos tomorrow morning? Preferably before school, if that’s okay with you, ” was all he requested with a ghost of a smile.

“ Sure, I don’t mind. Is there something else dangerous I should be worrying about? ”

“ It’s nothing too urgent but I thought I’d bring it to your attention since we are working on this case with the Phantom Thieves together. After all, we still need to hold the others accountable for their actions. ”

With that, she left. Akechi had always been a reliable source of information, so why would he lie?

{ Sat, 20 / 10 / 20XX }

It was the early morning. Despite the cold, she was in warm spirits as she approached the Shibuya line. Waiting there for her was the Detective Prince himself. Overnight, there was a decision made that once Akechi broke this bad news to her that she would change the mood by confessing. After all, it would be difficult to keep under lock & key.

Fading into the background as other students filtered in, they talked for a short period of time before getting down to business. Typing in ‘ Mementos ’ to the MetaNav was easy enough & there they were, standing at the dusty entrance.

Together, they fought their way down into a few floors below the surface. Although it took longer for them to traverse these levels due to not having a method of transportation such as the Mona Car, the Shadows were easy pickings for the two of them. At least, that is what she thought until two laser blasts from a ray gun burnt into her back.

Standing over her was a very different Goro Akechi to the person she had preciously known. What was once a charismatic smile that could charm anyone become a psychotic grin that looks unnaturally wide. Though she had once thought of his eyes as a storm of emotions, worries about the future & the safety of Japan, they were most definitely a typhoon, pulling victims in to tear them apart without a trace of mercy. Even as he called her a blind fool for trusting him & berated her sense of justice, the burning pain of the wounds that burnt through the Metaverse outfit were clouding her vision. She could have sworn there was the sound of someone walking away but there was too many sensations for her to clearly tell.

No one was going to find a dead body in the depths of Mementos. She found it morbidly ironic that her last thought was that she would never be able to tell Akechi how she truly felt.

Word Count: 2.3k

Publish Date: 06.10.20

[tenmillionwhumperflies]

Febuwhump ‘21 #9

#9 Buried Alive

Let there be ANGST and WHUMP and DRAMA. I’ll put a keep reading because it’s very... deathy? I really liked this one and the concept of it not gonna lie. Contains almost dying (needing revived). This one will be a main segment of the story because there are some... developments. I’ll make a master list in chronological order soon to make things a bit easier to understand.

For the record, the poem that is in this piece is mine. I made it up and kinda fell in love with it.

The memories returned slowly for Avizon. He remembered fighting a gang of bandits, with Erix at the helm. He remembered buying his cloudwalker’s time to flee while he was beaten senseless in the sudden attack, stabbed and defeated. They’d been prepared, they’d used laced darts to stop his magic and it had been so easy to beat them, but what he currently felt was so wrong. Breathing felt like an impossibility, something heavy was on his chest. He couldn’t see anything. He felt pinned, cold, and unbearably stuffy. It took him too long to realise what was wrong.

He was buried.

The thought unhinged him. He screamed for help, but he didn’t know what use it would be. Unless his cloudwalkers were still free, he didn’t stand a chance. His heart raced and he had to battle with it to keep himself calm. He only had a small pocket of air, provided by the shelter of tree roots, or at least it felt like that. He had to ration his air. Upon every exhale, he yelled for help, hoping someone could save him, anyone! If he didn’t suffocate, he was going to bleed out.

He’d never been afraid of dying, as far as he was concerned, it meant he could see Ro again, but to die like this… No, he. He just couldn’t. He wanted to die fighting, or with someone who cared about him, he wanted to die happy, fulfilled, having done what he’d always wanted to do and change the world. He wanted to die knowing is cloudwalkers were safe, that Ihuka could live free and happy, that Dyan never had to go back to that sick bastard! 

He blinked heavily as dirt got in his eye and he whimpered, forcing himself to keep calling for help. Tears slipped down his cheeks. Not like this… it couldn’t be like this. He closed his eyes and waited for death to take him. It had always been so keen to wrap its fingers around him and take him away. He’d lost count of how many times he’d almost died.

If these were to be his last moments, he wanted to have at least tried to survive. He tried to focus on his magic, to feel that buzz inside him again, the power radiating around his body but it just wasn’t there. He swallowed back a whimper. No, there had to be a way. Maybe light magic? He was terrible at using it these days, he hadn’t practised for so long, but he desperately tried. If he could make an orb of light above the earth, if he could just do something.

“Please,” he whispered. “I don’t want to die..”

Perhaps he deserved this, for all the hurt he had inflicted on others, for all the people he had killed, be it for revenge or not. He wasn’t a good man, he didn’t deserve a peaceful death.

He choked on a sob and tried again to make some sort of magic signal but he couldn’t feel it, and he didn’t have enough anyway.

He gave up, panting. He was going to die, that was something he reluctantly had to accept. He closed his eyes, feeling how the air was getting thinner. His bubble was running out, he was suffocating. He sought comfort in the only thing he could think of, and oh fitting it would be.

“May the giving earth that made me take me away,” he whispered, reciting one of his favourite poems that he so often read. “And from the earth, may I become an apple tree, to dance with the wind and sway u.under the smiling dreamer’s moon… for all the heavens to see.” He gulped, feeling his hands shaking even if they were pinned down by so much soil. “May my fruits feed the hungry, my branches protect the nests that depend on me... May my trunk b.be strong, yet the softest bed for the weary traveller to rest their head… S.stay a while...and think of me.” A sob escaped him, it was getting harder and harder to speak, to breathe, but he wanted to finish. “May I drink from the clearest stream… o.of tears… of grief, to nourish my roots and each and every leaf.” He doubted anyone would grieve for him...

This poem was all about his death meaning something, for him to have a legacy to leave behind. He’d always swore to live by this poem, and it hurt to know how far away from that he was. He whispered, “May I bow my head to the almighty sun that raised me, and greet the stars as friends, the h.heavens for which… I h.have… always reached...” He was finding it harder and harder to breathe, his consciousness was fading. “May they reach f.for me… May I be… free… To laugh with the dreamer’s moon… and sing...”

Then there was nothing.

____________

Ihuka dug furiously at the ground, his claws helping to drag away the upturned earth. His master was here, he had to be, and he was still alive. The magic he had seen made him certain, the beautiful tree that had formed, made of precious light magic. Dyan was helping, panting heavily as they both dug, one at each end, doing everything they could to get this dirt away while they had time. Erix was close, and they had to be fast.

Ihuka kept digging, even when he felt his hand hit against a sharp rock. He was sure he’d cut it bu the just kept digging. He hoped he wasn’t too late. He clenched his jaw and dug faster, like a fox. The dirt came away quickly until he finally hit something soft. He dug with more care, until he realised he’d found his master’s chin. He dug with care, lifting big chunks away that had been held up with a net of roots.

Avizon didn’t gasp for air, and Ihuka frowned, he had to breathe! Dyan crawled over to his master’s head and sobbed. “N.no… master, no, please, don’t leave us,” he whimpered. He shook his master’s chest while Ihuka kept digging, slowly freeing more of his chest. But Avizon did not stir.

Dyan put his hands on his master’s shoulders, shaking him slightly. “Please wake,” he whimpered, tears spilt. “M.master?” his bottom lip trembled and Ihuka’s stomach filled with dread. He’d been too slow. He’d failed.

Ihuka stopped digging and let his head drop. He felt his own tears spill onto the soil. Avizon had changed, he’d been good to him, he’d cared for him, let him stay wild.

Only a light caught his attention, and it wasn’t coming from his master. It was coming from Dyan. Dyan was using magic! Ihuka watched in stunned silence as the magic went into Avizon’s body and faded as quickly as it came. It felt like an eternity of silence, but finally Avizon’s chest started moving, as he heard him groan, then gasp, and finally scream.

Dyan threw himself back in surprise as Avizon sat up quickly, panting wildly, gasping and frantically digging his way out of what almost became his grave. He tried to get up, to stand and run, but his legs failed him immediately and he collapsed unconscious. Ihuka barely caught him.

“We have to get him back home,” Ihuka said quickly. Dyan nodded. “I can carry him.” ____________

The thought of carrying his master terrified Dyan, but he had to do it. His master needed help. He picked him up under the arms at first, to get him up and then he was able to scoop him up, letting Avizon’s dirty tear-stained face lean against his chest. Dyan hated the power shift he felt. He despised being responsible for him like this.

The flight was tense, silent since Erix was searching for them. They weren’t far from home, but Dyan’s arms quickly began to ache. His master was heavy, too heavy for him to carry. But he endured, he stayed quiet and bit his lips until he made it inside and up into the tower, where master kept all of his potions. Ihuka helped him to lie him down on the table. Ihuka went to fetch water. Dyan pursed his lips and went to collect his master’s mirror, which he used to talk to Orrien.

He couldn’t process what had happened, what he had done. All he knew was that he’d felt broken, seeing his master dead. Something inside him had snapped, no, stirred? He didn’t know how to explain it, like it had just woken up inside him perhaps? He was confused and scared and had no idea how his master would react to him having powers- being able to use them. He’d seemed excited to investigate the fact he could wield several months earlier... he just hoped he’d be happy, or at least, not hurt him. Dyan put the mirror down and shook his master’s shoulder. “Master, please, wake up! Please wake!” Avizon’s hand shot out and grabbed Dyan’s wrist, but his gaze was unseeing. Dyan froze. “M.master? Please… I. I brought your mirror. You need mister Orrien. You’re hurt.”

Avizon groaned, but let go of him. “Quickly,” he whispered, his lips barely parting. Dyan handed him the mirror, and Avizon barely managed to send some sort of signal to him before he passed out again. Dyan hoped it would be enough, and thankfully it was. Moments later, Orrien appeared.

____________

Orrien knew to expect something bad when Avizon had barely managed a whisper into the mirror. He didn’t wait to see what he could say. He rushed to grab a bag from his little hut and within a minute he was back at the castle. He never did like coming back here, too many memories, but for Avizon, he didn’t have a choice.

Avizon was on a table, covered in dirt, and his chest was barely moving. He could see a few wounds and knew this was serious. He reached to take his pulse, seeing Dyan kneeling on the floor.

“Help me undress him. What happened to him?” Dyan shuddered, but stood up and did as he was asked, “W.we got attacked, sir. He made us run away, but they did something to him and he couldn’t use his magic. But then when we came back to find him and found him under a tree made out of magic. He… he’d been buried- alive I think.”

Reincarnation magic?! And here Avizon had insisted he was terrible at light magic. He ought to retrain him, provided he could survive this. “We dug him out and… M.mister Orrien? I think I’m dangerous…” Dyan wrung his hands out and kept his head low. He reminded him so much of Avizon when he was younger.

“And why is that?” Orrien asked, grimacing as he saw the wounds on Avizon’s torso. “I… I got upset. I thought he was gone forever, but... I made magic. I. I don’t know how and I didn’t really mean to b.but I did and it brought him back…”

Orrien’s head shot up to look at him, stunned beyond words. “You brought him back?” This cloudwalker that had never cast a spell in his life had made a magic that even he struggled with. How?! It was amazing. Dyan nodded slowly. “M.master said I was able to ‘wield’, but I never have before… Is that bad?” Orrien forced his stunned focus back onto helping Avizon. “No, and I dare say I’m incredibly impressed and grateful. We can talk about it later, but first we need to look after your master.”

Dyan nodded with a nervous gulp. “Yes, sir.”

[elaboratedbee]

Bigby x Reader

Request For: @strawberry-kitty-kat

Pairing: Bigby Wolf x Female Reader

Summary: the big bad wolf makes it his mission to warm you up, and find out who you are.

Rating: E

Word Count: 6,206

Note: whoo, my first request! :)

A Dream Of Spring

Bigby

The first time that he saw her, it was in the elevator. Sees her was a slight overstatement, considering that her face was obscured by the overflowing cardboard box that she was holding in both arms, papers, files and stationary balanced precariously on top of one another. “Hold the elevator, please!” She called out, and her voice was unfamiliar to him. Wordlessly, he complied and stuck out a foot to jam between the sliding metal doors, triggering them to open up once more. 

Exhaling a sigh of relief, she hurried into the elevator beside him and now that they were standing side-on, he could regard her properly. Her face was still not one that he registered seeing before, and he thought to himself that she is striking enough that he would have remembered the first time. “Thanks,” she offered him a smile, which is genuine though slightly strained and he offered her a nod in return, his mouth occupied with his cigarette as he pressed the button for the business office. 

Bigby usually felt comfortable in silence, preferred it, even, but he felt compelled to introduce himself. Maybe it was because he found her so beautiful. He knew he would remember her and he wanted him to remember him too, desperately so. “Going to the business office?” He questioned gruffly, exhaling smoke into the little metal box. 

“Yes, it’s my first day,” she replied, which Bigby supposed explained the box of things. He connected the dots in his head as the elevator doors hauled themselves open once more with a groan of protest. It was a wonder the rusty contraption hadn’t broken down already. 

“You’re Snow’s replacement, her assistant?” It was barely a question as he asked it, considering that he already knew the answer and his tone was flat, “I’m going to speak to her now, I’ll show you in.” Bigby reached over and took the box from her arms, seeing that she was now straining slightly under the weight of copious books and stacks of paper. As he did so, their fingertips brushed ever so slightly, and a shock travelled through his body. They were freezing. 

“Sorry, I’m a little cold,” she apologised immediately, seemingly embarrassed by the incident as she hurriedly shoved her hands deep into her pockets. Bigby regretted letting his expression of surprise show so clearly on his face and masked it, though it was too late. 

A little cold? Sure, it was December, but it wasn’t cold in the building. Shrugging it off, he waved her apology away and they began walking down the hallway. “Takes more than a little cold to bother me,” he assured her, his words slightly muffled from his cigarette now that his hands were full with the box. 

“How’s that?” She asked curiously, and he was surprised again at the question. Most of the Fables would have known the answer, seen or heard about what he was capable of.

Setting the box down so that he could open the door to the business office, he removed his cigarette so that his words were now crystal clear.

“Haven’t you heard? I’m the big, bad wolf.” He answered her in a low voice, swinging the door open and swiping the box off of the ground once more. To his slight annoyance, she proceeded to laugh at him and follow him into the large office.

“Alright, well, right now the ‘big, bad wolf’ is carrying my desk toys, so I’m not exactly shaking in my boots.” She teased him, and that startled a small smile out of the Sheriff. It wasn’t often that he came across someone who taunted him in good faith the first time they met him. The more common reaction to his presence was fear, anger, or some combination of the two. The office was empty, meaning Snow must have stepped out to take care of some matter or other and inexplicably, Bigby felt a small spark of excitement at being alone with the new assistant for a little longer. 

“What I am scared of,” she continued, sitting down on top of the desk and swinging her legs where they didn’t meet the ground, “is my first day on the job. You’re the Sheriff, you must know Snow pretty well, right? Is there anything in particular that I should do, or more importantly, not do? Like does she hate grammar errors or have an allergy to desk plants or something?” She stopped talking all of a sudden, and her pale cheeks made the light flush breaking out on them obvious. She flashed him an embarrassed smile to apologise for her nervous rambling. 

Bigby couldn’t help but stare, listening intently to her every word. The way her legs swung was almost child-like, she seemed so innocent. He was struck by the desire to pick up her box of things again and walk her out of this place before she saw anything less than pleasant. The business office was a hell of a lot less corrupt than it used to be, but the nature of the crimes and issues discussed in this room were still oftentimes disturbing. He didn’t want her to see that.

Or maybe, he didn’t want her to see him like that. 

“You’ll be fine,” he cursed himself for his absolute ineptitude as she listens to his utterly pathetic piece of advice. Was that supposed to be reassuring? She was going to think he was some kind of psychopath. Reminding himself that was exactly how he was meant to be perceived, Bigby finally extinguished his cigarette and looked away. 

To his surprise, when he turned back, she was smiling. “Thank you.” 

Bigby could tell when someone was lying and when someone was being ingenuine, and to his absolute disbelief, she was sincere. She stood from the desk and offered him a hand to shake, looking up at him with a sense of determination that didn’t shine as brightly as before. “You can call me Ro. I don’t feel as nervous anymore, now that I have you.” Her voice was bright and casual - it was nothing but an offhand expression of gratitude, but Bigby’s heart went still in his chest. 

His hand enveloped her small one almost completely, each of her digits branding a searing coldness into his warm skin. Bigby didn’t want to let go, he wanted to keep them there until they were warm. 

He didn’t.

They shook hands and pulled away, and she turned away from him and started pulling things out of the box, placing them on the wooden surface with care. Dumbstruck, Bigby stood like a statue for what felt like an hour but was thankfully only seconds, before he turned and walked away. Slowly, he closed his palm into a fist, swearing that he could still feel her hand in his. Whether that was from the cold, or for another reason, he didn’t want to consider. 

The wolf was already out of the building before he realised that he hadn’t even accomplished what he meant to do in the business office. He resolved to do it at another time, and as he raised a packet of cigarettes, he couldn’t help but smile just ever so slightly. If he tried, he could pretend it was the prospect of a cigarette and not the prospect of seeing her again. 

It was the next day before he finally got around to tracking Snow down again, and as he headed down the corridor to the business office, he could hear the faint sound of laughter behind the door. It was rare to hear Snow laugh at work, and he knew it must be Ro’s doing. Bigby didn’t know why he was getting nervous before he opened the door, he’d never been that way before, even when he knew he was on his way to be reprimanded by the deputy mayor herself. 

The Sheriff opened to door to a scene of veritable chaos. The new assistant was precariously balanced on one of the bookshelves, as Bufkin hovered nearby, concerned. Snow was laughing as she pulled one of the heavy ladders up to the shelves and he caught the tail-end of a discussion before they noted his entry. 

“- would’ve been fine, these bookshelves aren’t too hard to climb.”

“Next time that Bufkin is asleep on the job, you wake him up. Or, at least use a ladder.” Even if Snow was telling both of her teammates off, her voice was full of amusement for the two of them. With a triumphant grin, Ro swiped the desired book off the shelf before obediently returning to the ground via the ladder that Snow had provided. As he feet hit the ground, she saw him over Snow’s shoulder and her face brightened with a smile.

It made Bigby’s chest feel tight, that she was happy to see him. 

Snow turned around and gave him a wave, which he returned with a nod. Making his way over to the deputy mayor, he tried not to be distracted by the sound of his obsession’s voice, discussing some sort of financial matter with Bufkin as he reported to Snow. The princess preferred to be kept in the loop about the happenings of Fabletown, considering the criminal ongoing of the community often affected who walked in and out of her door needing a favour, and Bigby was happy to comply. Snow had proved herself a worthy partner, and mayor, many times over. 

Once they were finished, Bigby turned to leave slowly, hoping that he could think of some reason to stay a little longer, an excuse to speak to her. It would turn out that wasn’t necessary, as a call of his name met his ears. Ro waved him over to her desk and he raised his eyebrows at the sight. No wonder that box had been so damn heavy for her, the surface was covered in trinkets and ornaments. 

A garish mug that held her pens proclaimed, “I love NY!” Next to that, a glass jar of candies with the lid off, an offering to anyone waiting to see Snow. It was an odd and thoughtful gesture that he didn’t recall seeing anywhere before in Fabletown. An elegant wooden picture frame faced away from him, preventing the wolf from seeing the picture inside, sparking his curiosity. Besides the frame sat a small but ornate snowglobe, and he was afraid to pick it up, fearing that he’d be too rough and break it. Finally, a gathering of tiny plant pots congregated in the corner; a succulent, a Chinese money plant and a cactus. 

He huffed in amusement at the sight of it, “that is the ugliest fucking mug I have ever seen.”

Ro scowled at him, but her eyes were sparkling. “Shut up, Bigby, this is a very impressive collection, alright?”

“I’ll take your word for it,” The wolf’s words were sarcastic, but he raised an eyebrow in question, betraying his curiosity. He ended up leaning against the desk, fixated on her as she told him the story behind every object.

The mug was the first thing that she had bought after everything that happened, ending with all of the Fables moving to the city. 

The sweets, she explained, were for anyone who was mad at having to wait in a line for so long and especially for Toad’s son, who was, “extremely adorable,” according to her. 

Her tone was soft as she remarked on the snow globe, describing it only as, “a gift,” in a small voice that made Bigby want to find whoever had made her feel that way and rip their arms off of their body. Without thinking, he reached out and placed his hand on her shoulder. Once again, she was positively freezing to the touch, and this time he even felt minute tremours wracking her frame. Looking up to meet his eyes, she didn’t pull away from him for a long moment. It was nice, to not be feared. 

The tension between them mounted, but he found himself unable to pull away from her. Thankfully, she did and brushed over the photograph, reaching for the cactus instead. “This reminds me of you.” She stated factually, holding it up to him. 

“How?” Bigby questioned, falling into her trap and watching the mischievous grin of delight appear on her face. 

“Prickly,” she laughed when he responded by flipping her off, which only made it worse. 

Bigby had to leave after that, heading over to one of the many bars in Fabletown to break up some sort of fight that was breaking out. After receiving a call from the owner, who had yelled down the phone that if Bigby didn’t get there soon then there wouldn’t be a bar left to save, he knew he was in for a fight. Fables didn’t give up easy, especially when they were pissed and drunk. It was not going to be a pleasant evening. 

When he returned home much later, with blackened eyes and bleeding knuckles, he stopped by his office to grab some case files before heading up to his room. 

There on his desk was the little cactus. 

A kind of warmth that started in his stomach crept through his body like it was travelling in his veins, reaching his heart and making it hurt. This was bad. Bigby had it really, really, bad. 

The next time that he saw her, it was snowing. A soft dusting of white was beginning to layer on the sidewalks and rooftops outside of the business office, where she stood on the side of the road. Darkness was falling as she attempted to hail a cab, but rush hour traffic meant that she could be waiting for a little while. Approaching, Bigby noted that she was shaking, even more violently than the last time they had met and frowned to himself. “Ro,” he greeted her, as not to frighten her as he came closer.

“Bigby!” She greeted him with a wide smile, despite her chattering teeth. 

“It’s getting dark. I’ll wait with you.” He stated, leaving no room for an argument or dispute. Fabletown was a shithole and he wasn’t about to abandon her on the side of the road as dusk fell. She heard his tone and didn’t bother to put up a fight, opting to instead enjoy his company. Once again, she shivered and Bigby couldn’t take it anymore. Uncaring if he was crossing any boundaries, he shrugged off the long coat that he wore in the Wintertime and draped it over her shoulders, still warm from the heat of his body. He was a wolf, he didn’t exactly run cold.

Her mouth fell open in surprise at the sudden weight around her shoulders, and she glanced at him with wide eyes. “You’ll be cold,” she protested, but the shivering had stopped. Bigby would do it a hundred times over.

“I’ll be fine. You’re fucking freezing at the best of times,” he pointed out and she sighed with disappointment at the reminder. It made him curious. “Is there a reason?” He pushed for more information and didn’t receive an answer. The silence stretched out between them and he immediately regretted his decision to ask. After a minute, he felt a pressure at his side. 

She was leaning against him. 

Bigby felt a surge of panic as he wondered if she could hear his heart beating rapidly in his chest when she was so close like this, which only made it beat faster. Her cold frame was tucked into his side, and he thought he might die on the spot. “I don’t want you to get cold,” her voice was soft. Bigby didn’t care that her temperature didn’t exactly provide him with any real warmth, the hot blood rising in his cheeks was enough to make him feel warm with embarrassment. He counted his blessings that her eyes remained on the street ahead, scanning for a cab.

Eventually, one pulled up on the curb and Bigby stepped forward, opening the door for her. Taking off his coat, she folded it carefully before handing it back to him. So careful with his things, she treated the old, beaten coat like it was of the finest silk. She stepped inside the car and he lingered for a moment, arm resting on the door, the freezing metal no different from Ro’s body temperature. 

“Goodnight, Bigby.” She hesitated before leaning up and pressing a soft kiss to his cheek. Her lips were like ice and he wondered how they weren’t blue. He liked it anyway. Stepping back and shutting the door, Bigby waited on the sidewalk until the taxi was long out of sight before he turned and headed indoors. 

He was starting to like the cold.

That night he couldn’t sleep. He had so many questions about who she was, what her Fable was, that it was impossible to take his mind of her as he laid awake in his chair, his eyes fixated on the ceiling. He knew that it must be something to do with her temperature - how else could she be so freezing to the touch all the time? She was constantly shivering and shaking, and it only seemed to be getting worse each time he saw her.

Closing his eyes, he remembered how she felt against his side. Her touch was addictive, worse than the nicotine in his cigarettes. Every time that they came close, it made him need it all the more. His fingers came up to hover over his cheek, where he had kissed him. In his mind, she hadn’t stepped into the cab at all. In his mind, he had taken her into his arms there and then, and kissed her senseless. She would be here in his apartment, pressed up against him and they would be more than warm as - 

Bigby shook his head fervently to rid himself of the thoughts, feeling guilty. Tomorrow, he would get answers, he promised himself.

The sun hadn’t fully risen in the sky as he left his apartment the following morning. Heading straight for the business office, he wasted no time in using his keys and opening the door. Switching on the lights, he stepped into the room and looked around. “Bufkin?” He called out, wondering if the winged creature would be present, or awake. There was no answer, so he headed toward the stacks.

This was going to be difficult, considering he didn’t even know her name. That made using the mirror a fruitless task, and while what Bigby was doing by looking her up wasn’t exactly moral per se, looking at her while she was most likely asleep was not a good idea.

Heading over to her desk, he wondered if she would have her real name somewhere. Bigby didn’t spot it, and he was distracted by her collection of things. A fond smile crossed his face, and he picked up the little snowglobe, holding it carefully in his palm. Inspecting it more closely, it was a field covered in snow, and in the centre, there were two figures. A boy and girl, who seemed to be dancing, while he played the flute. Shaking it, he watched the glittery flakes dance and flurry around the little glass sphere.

Thankfully, he had placed it down on the desk before a cough resounded from behind him. “Fuck!” He swore as he spun around to see Bufkin, swallowing his surprise and glaring instead.

“Bigby?” The flying monkey was surprised to see him, “what are you doing?”

“Well,” Bigby hesitated before explaining, which is exactly how he knew what he was doing was a terrible idea, “I was trying to find Ro’s fable. But I don’t know her real name.”

“Ah, I see,” Bufkin seemed thoughtful before he answered, “as always, if you find her real name then I will help you as much as I can, but I can’t help but suggest that you ask her. I’m not sure that she’ll appreciate if you find out without her knowing.” 

Hanging his head, Bigby sighed, “I know.” Considering the way he did his job, Bigby wasn’t much used to having the truth withheld from him for long. In the instances when it was, he had never done nothing about it. This was different, he should know that. Looking back at the desk, he saw the space where the cactus used to be and felt ashamed. She had been kinder to him than anyone he had ever met, the first person not to assume he was every bit the beast he once was, and he was already proving to her that she should have treated him like a monster all along. 

Bufkin patted his shoulder warily, seemingly relieved that the wolf had come to his senses. Bigby started to walk away from his desk when the sound of keys entering the lock made him freeze. At that moment, Bigby had two options. He could stand there and face whoever it was head-on, or he could try and hide. It was fight or flight, and Bigby had never been much of a flyer. 

Upon realising that the door was already open, the person on the other side entered the room. Of course, it was Ro. She stared at him in surprise, obviously shocked to see him in the office so early and without the presence of Snow. “Bigby?” The confusion was evident in her tone, “can I help you with anything?”

His guilt intensified. Only she would assume he was here for a noble cause, for a case he was working on or an urgent business matter. Of course, her first question would not be what he was doing but how she could help. He didn’t know how he ever thought he could deserve a chance with her. Well, this was his chance to ruin it.

“I came here to find your fable. I wanted to know who you are.” Bigby stated bluntly, and he watched as her face fell. Her usually bright eyes went dim, and her ever-bright smile went cold. It was a crushing pain, but it was almost tinged with relief. He had known he wasn’t good enough, known that he was a monster.

At least now that she knew, he could stop pretending. 

She didn’t say anything as he walked past her and left.

You

The slam of the door shutting behind him rang in your ears, as you struggled to process the information. You feel tears beginning to sting your eyes, and you’re glad that the wolf walked out so that he didn’t see them. How could he do that to you? 

You keep your gaze on the floor as you head to your desk, embarrassed by the display of emotion and not wanting Bufkin to see them. Slamming your papers down on your desk a little harder than you would normally, you sat down and tried to work, but the words were blurry in front of you. Bufkin is quiet behind you, offering a few words of consolation, “If it helps, Miss, he didn’t succeed. In fact, he stopped what he was doing of his own accord before you arrived.”

It was nice of Bufkin to try and comfort you, but his words didn’t fix things, and you were afraid of what kind of sound would come out if you opened in your mouth. You started your paperwork in silence and went about confirming Snow’s schedule for the day until she arrived later. As soon as she arrived, she could tell that something wasn’t right. You greeting was a little quiet, your smile not as genuine, no matter how much you tried to put up a front.

I guess I’m not like Bigby, you thought to yourself bitterly, I can’t pretend to be someone I’m not.

Snow didn’t comment on the situation until after you’ve left and returned from the office, delivering papers to the thirteenth floor. When you returned, it was obvious that Bufkin must have reported to Snow what had happened by the pitying look in her eyes. “Don’t,” you pleaded with her, not ready to talk about it and too embarrassed to explain. 

“Okay,” she agreed, before biting her lip. “I’ve known Bigby a long time, and you know what that means for a Fable. I’ve seen him grow and change from a heartless monster into a man that cares about Fabletown - maybe even more than anyone else. But he has a funny way of showing it. He yells, and he fights and he pushes everyone away, but at the end of the day, he’s the one out there in the dead of night keeping us safe.”

“What’s your point?” You asked and your voice was tired.

“My point,” she continued patiently, “is that Bigby as a friend is a lot like Bigby as a Sheriff. Even though he pushes you away, he really cares. Now, I think that’s something worth fighting for, and I do, God knows we’ve argued in the past. That doesn’t mean you have to, but it would mean a lot to me if you’d consider it.” After she was done, she continued with her business, leaving you alone with your thoughts.

That woman was a damned good politician. 

The next few days were torture. Bigby avoided the business office, and you avoided him. His presence in the Woodlands was already scarce, but now it seemed that he was never home. The few glimpses of him you caught in hallways were brief, and neither of you met one another’s eye line. The closest you come is when you see him enter the elevator as you walk into the building.

This time, you didn’t call for him to wait and he doesn’t. 

But you did meet his eyes, not on purpose, as the doors were closing and it made your throat constrict. They were filled with guilt. For a split second, you think of saying something, anything. Of calling his name and having it out right then. But the doors closed, and he was gone again. You started to shiver, feeling colder than you ever have before.

The next time you saw him, you thought that he was dead. He was collapsed in a chair in the business office, as Doctor Swineheart’s elegant fingers moved back and forth. He performed surgery like he was playing the harp, his digits moving surely and gracefully across the strings, the thread following his crescendos up and down, in and out of Bigby’s skin. You wanted him to open his eyes so badly that you could no longer breathe. You closed your eyes and wished you had called out at the elevator. You called out now.

“Bigby!” 

Snow, Bufkin and the Doctor turned to look at you. The latter didn’t bat another eye, simply returning to his suturing while the other two gave you a sympathetic glance, but their concern was lying in front of them. As you got closer, you could see the rise and fall of his chest underneath all the blood, and you felt all of the air leave your lungs. The relief was crushing you, and you could have wept if you were able to take your eyes off of him. 

“Bigby,” you whispered again, and it’s a broken hush at this point. Reaching out your hand to touch him, you stopped yourself, withdrawing. Your hands were ice, they wouldn’t be any comfort to him. Useless. 

At the sound of your voice, he stirred. Eyelids flickering ever so slightly, a low and pained grown escaped his battered mouth. The Doctor was apparently done with him, even though there seemed to be copious amounts of blood to deal with and stood up. “No silver,” he announced, and his tone was calm enough to reassure you all, “he’ll be just fine. I could waste my breath and tell him to take it easy, but I think we all have better things to do.” A chorus of gratitudes accompanied his exit and Snow sighed with frustration. 

“He never learns,” she attempted to sound angry, but there was no heat behind it. “Can you take him upstairs? I need to deal with the culprits.” At this time, Bigby finally opened his eyes, taking in his surroundings with a slight air of panic. Once he recognised the faces around him, he calmed, but it was clear that his body is on fire from the pain. Nevertheless, he pushed himself to his feet, clenching his teeth to prevent the howl of pain from escaping. Rushing forward, you placed yourself underneath his shoulder, and he couldn’t help but lean on you for support. Together, you managed to stumble to his apartment, and you patted him down for his keys. Retrieving them from his front pocket, you managed to open the door and turn on the light, revealing the cramped apartment. 

It suited him. 

You managed to push Bigby into the only available armchair and stood in front of him. Tiredly, he met your eyes and offered you a bloody mockery of a smile. It was a horrible sight. 

“Shame they had to go and ruin your pretty face,” you broke the silence, too worried and horrified to put up any defences against the man. Not tonight. You cupped his swollen jaw with one of your hands and he let out a strangled moan, leaning into the touch.

“You ‘fink I’m pretty?” His voice was a slur, due to his broken nose, cut mouth or some combination of the two. At least he hadn’t lost his sense of humour. The pain was making him more candid, you thought. “S’nice,” he continued, “like an icepack.” You realised he was talking about your hands and gave him a strained laugh. At least you could be somewhat helpful. Using the other one to cover his bruised knuckles, you let a silence fall between you again. It wasn’t awkward, anymore. You supposed a near-death experience could do that.

Ignoring his growl of protest, you eventually moved away to grab supplies. A glass of water, towels and real ice. He seemed deeply disappointed in your decision to bring him water of all things. “Whiskey,” he demanded. 

“You know what, how about when you can walk over there and pour yourself a glass, you can have some?” You drawled and he let out a frustrated huff, letting his head drop back against the back of the chair. Slowly, you cleaned the blood away, starting with the cut on his forehead and making your way downward. You applied ice to his bruised lip, and slowly and carefully dabbed at the blood from his bullet wounds. It seemed endless. 

“Jesus, Bigby.” You breathed out, the metallic scent of blood was thick in the air. 

“I’m sorry,” his voice was quiet, unlike how you’d ever heard it before, it was almost frightening.

“Don’t be, you did your job and -”

“Not that.” He cut you off, and stared up at the ceiling, unable to meet your eyes.

“I know.” You cleaned the last of the blood from his chest and decided to wait a while to change the bandages, even though they were already soaking through with blood. After disposing of any blood-soaked materials, you returned to the wolf and carefully pushed his hair back from his forehead. 

“Can I do anything else?” You asked, and he flinched at the words. Perhaps it reminded him of the argument you had, or perhaps he was just in too much pain. 

“Stay,” his voice was certain, his tone commanding, but his eyes were pleading. Begging. How could you refuse? You sat on the arm of the chair, close by his side as if your mere presence would heal him. Even in the short time that had passed, he looked considerably better than he had when you’d seen him lying on the table, especially without the excess blood staining his skin. With great effort, he turned one of his hands so that it was lying palm up. You knew what he wanted, and you slid your hand into his. He hissed at the temperature, and you wondered if the fact that you’re worried sick makes it worse.

“Bigby,” your voice was slow, and it felt like a loaded question when you asked him again, “can I do anything, else?” He clenched his jaw like he was trying to stop himself and can’t, sitting up and leaning close to you, until your lips were an inch away from his. For a long moment, he said nothing, just stared at you while you breathed one another in. He’s alive, you thought, and I’ll never forget it. Eventually, he closed his eyes like he couldn’t bear to look at you anymore.

“Kiss me,” his voice was hoarse. With pain or vulnerability, you didn’t know. But you complied, leaning forward and meeting his lips. He pushed hard and fast, like he had been starved of you for too long, but you pulled back and kept it soft. His poor mouth had been bleeding not too long ago, and you didn’t want to hurt him more. You could tell he didn’t care. Your hands came up to cradle his face, one under his rough jaw and the other firmly gripping his hair. You held him like he was fragile and precious and loved. Slowly, the temperature of your hands started to rise, unnoticeable at first. As you placed gentle kisses on his mouth, and then his cheeks, one on his crooked nose and along his bruised jaw, you felt yourself grow warm, for the first time in your life. It was indescribable. 

“Your hands,” Bigby covered one with his own, marvelling. Tears rolled down your cheeks as you acclimatised to the feeling of not feeling cold, feeling pain, wracked with shivers. The wolf raised a hand to wipe them away, letting himself linger on your cheeks now that they weren’t freezing to the touch. 

When you were ready, you took a breath and explained to him who you were. “Snegurochka is my real name. You can probably see why I shortened it. But the more common name is The Snow Maiden. I was made of snow by an old couple, they were beautiful. Kind and generous and good, but they could have no children. When Father Frost saw how sad they were, he made me real, so that I could be a daughter to them. But I could never,” you paused, struggling to explain, “I was always cold. I felt cold all of the time, no matter how much I loved them. Soon, I found a new kind of love. At least, I thought that was what it was. I think I just wanted to feel it so badly that I made myself believe it. A boy from the village played music for me, and we played in the snow, enjoying Christmas. When Spring came, I thought that our love would be enough. He led me to the village, to the edge of the woods that I had lived in my whole life. I ignored every warning and stepped out into the Sun. It was an indescribable pain, and I could not follow him.”

Bigby stared at you in silence, listening intently. “The next Winter, I waited to see him again, in the woods. But when I saw him, he had taken another. They played together in the snow, where we once did, and I thought then that I would be cold forever.” Your voice trembled as you recounted the story of your heartbreak before you looked at him. 

“But you, you kissed me and meant it. You broke the spell. That’s why I didn’t want to tell you before, about who I was. To be honest, I think I was hoping that you would.” It was a lot to take in, and Bigby seemed speechless for a long moment. Wordlessly, he pulled you close and pressed a hard, forceful kiss to your lips. 

“Never again,” he promised, “you’ll never be cold again.” 

It was a fairly hard task that Bigby had undertaken that night, but he went about it dutifully. You still got cold far more easily than almost anyone else, your fingertips icy and the tips of your ears going red. The wolf liked to cocoon your hands within his, warming them up whenever the two of you stood still in the cold. Before you went outside in foul weather, he would drape a coat around you, or hang a scarf around your neck. More often than not, he would dress you in something of his. He didn’t admit it, but you were fairly sure he just liked to see you marked as his for the rest of the world to see.

It was sweet, the way he pressed kisses to your cold fingertips when nobody was looking and tucked you under his arm if the wind was howling, but really, the cold didn’t bother you anymore.

No matter how much the ice froze, the wind pushed, the rain poured and the snow danced, as long as you had Bigby, your love for him burned hot in your chest like a roaring fire, warming you from the inside out. 

[arisalty]

Please Come Home For Christmas (sure as the stars shine above)

Merry Christmas! The person I got for the Secret Santa in Powerless was @skylagamingv2​, and while I’m not great at writing Logince, here’s my take on it! 

Songs mentioned are Venus by Sleeping at Last and The Fairytale of New York by The Pogues

Words: 4.7k 

Tw: Swearing, Remus appears for a bit, food is mentioned n eaten, there's one panic attack and one breakdown because of being touch-starved, if I need to tag anything else, please do tell me!

Sunday 1st, December, 5:15 am

“You’re daydreaming about him again, aren’t you?” Virgil broke Roman’s trance loudly, the faint light from his hat and shoes allowing Roman to see the raised eyebrow in the surrounding darkness. 

“Uh…” Roman let the syllable rest on his tongue as he desperately looked for something to say. “Maybe..?”

Virgil rolled his eyes.

“If you like him so much, why don’t you, like, try and talk to him when we’re packed.”

“Different box,” Roman pouted and dropped his head into his hands. 

“Then, hooooow about you going up to the tippy-top of the tree to seem him?” Patton pushed his way past the fir branches, as ever, carrying his signature tray of cookies. 

Roman paused for a few seconds, contemplating the fanatical, absolutely wild, insane idea. 

“Surely it’s impossible getting all the way up there?”

“Of course not!” Patton bubbled. “It’s-”

He was cut off by Virgil remarking,

“It’s only really challenging and possibly deadly.”

“But!” Patton intervened quickly. “I’m sure that the bravest, boldest, most bodacious nutcracker in the world definitely has the nuts to do it!”

Virgil looked down to hide his grin, even though he shook his head in joke disappointment.

Roman looked between the two elves, with their dainty little outfits of red jackets and flashing hats, one beaming up at his boyfriend while the other smiled softly at the other, and with a crushing sense of longing, he realised that maybe, just maybe he could have that. 

Virgil looked up and gave half a smile,

“As dangerous as it is, Patton has a point. If anyone can do it, it’s you, dude.”

As cynical as he could be, Roman knew that Virgil was being genuine, the look in his eyes just as supportive as his bubbly boyfriend. 

Patton beamed up at Roman. 

“See! You’ve already started to believe in yourself more!” He giggled, before holding out his tray of cookies once more. “Now, eat up; it’s nearly 6 o’clock and you’ve got a big day tomorrow!”

Yes, Roman thought, I’ll start later. 

Sunday 1st December, around midnight

As the sun set and the light’s flickered on, the steady march of time brought midnight with it. Every ornament on the tree, from the tinsel to the angel at the top to the deer on the baubles, found their body revived of control, and they blinked, waking slowly from their suspended quiet, allowing their consciousness to readjust to animation. Only one little wooden figure was already restless, his little fingers tapping away at his side until his body seemed to spring into action, allowing him to stretch and crack his joints into fluidity. 

Today's the day, he thought, today's the day I set out for the top of the tree.

He paced restlessly in his secluded part of the tree, waiting ‘till his friends would join him in his state of movement; he didn't want to leave without saying goodbye to them.  

After many minutes of very frustrated waiting, Roman couldn’t hold himself back from bursting into Patton and Virgil’s living space, only to find them very drowsily rubbing at their eyes and stretching, obviously only just having woken up. 

“Roman, we love you, but what are you doing here?” Virgil yawned, looking like he needed nothing more than a coffee. “Couldn’t you have waited for me to get a coffee or something first?” 

(Both Roman and Virgil ignored Patton’s frustrated huff at Virgil.)

“Good morning!” chirped Roman. “I'm here to see you before I head off. I didn't want to go before saying goodbye.” 

“Well, as you’re here, take a cookie!! You’re gonna need the energy!”

Gratefulness filled Roman as he picked up two of the cookies. These were his friends, these were the ones backing him. These two were the ones that believed that he could do it; he could make it to the top. 

“Uh… Ro? You good, man? You finished your cookies a few minutes ago you’ve just kinda been staring at nothing for the past two minutes.”

Roman blinked, snapping out of his thoughts. 

“Oh, sorry, I was just thinking.”

Vigil shook his head fondly. “What are you still doing here? Go get your man!” Virgil took this time to push the nutcracker towards the exit. 

“Uh, I mean-”

“Go!” Virgil gave Roman one last shove, pushing him out the door, laughing all the while. 

“Good luck!” called Patton. 

Roman smiled as he started walking. 

~

Logan was once again, bored. It was only the second night of being awake on the tree. But it got lonely at the top of the tree, with barely anybody to talk to, nothing to do but watch the lights flicker and the hands of the grandfather clock tick round to 6 o’clock. But what could he do about it? He was an angel, the most beautiful ornament, stuck to the top of the tree with metal stopping him from moving. Furthermore, he couldn’t even move in the night for the fact there would be no point; even if he did manage to get off his stupid metal podium holding him in place, the humans would surely notice his movement and put him back, and so the cycle would repeat. Over, and over, and over. No, it wasn’t worth it. 

Well, mostly. One fine gentleman caught his attention once, a few years ago, but never had the opportunity to meet ever passed. He was a nutcracker, white uniform decorated in golden thread, with a bold red sash across his chest, folding back around the other side of his body at his belt. 

Logan had never felt the urge to want to meet and talk to someone as much as he had when he saw him. But they have yet to be in proximity with each other, let alone converse and befriend one another. 

Logan sighed, letting his thoughts drift off into memories where he saw the nutcracker, even though they were only brief flashes at a time. 

Logan let his mind wander to the constellations that decorated his dress, naming them as he went.

Monday 2nd, midnight

To say that the previous day’s expedition was a bust would’ve been putting it lightly. Roman had tried to jump between two ranches, misjudged the distance and fell, (luckily) landing basically on his own doorstep and reversing all the progress for that day. 

Nevertheless, he was not discouraged, because there was the chance he fell between the branches to his death, and what is any fairy tale without a struggle?

He carried on. 

Wednesday 4th, midnight

Roman sighed. 

It had been 4 days of trying to get to the top of the tree and he had made total progress of nothing. Well, he had made it almost 3 layers of branches up, but obviously, he was back to where he started so something had to have gone wrong.

He managed to fall on the first day, and after that, he caught his string on a branch and the next day a human moved him downwards. 

While Virgil was busy worrying that Roman might hurt himself, or that he would get trapped on a branch, or fall and die, or give up and not climb anymore, or starve himself and pass out, Patton spent his time trying to communicate with the Angel at the top of the tree. 

He had heard a rumour that the Angel, Logan, as he had found out, was extremely intelligent, and Patton hoped that Logan knew morse code, because that was the only way he could really communicate with the top of the tree. 

He had worked out what he wanted to say - “Roman is coming” or 

“.-. --- -- .- -. / .. ... / -.-. --- -- .. -. --.” - and he had been flashing it unconsciously from his hat, but something about the thick swathes of branches gave him the feeling that Logan may not be able to see it. 

Patton sat thinking for a few minutes.

What’s a way to get the lights in a viewable distance? 

Oh no. 

Virgil is going to kill me. 

Virgil found Patton shuffling along a branch, arms held out for balance, little hat flashing in irregular bursts, past halfway out along the longest branch.

“PATTON!! What the fuck are you doing?!”

Patton winced, glancing over to see that Virgil’s eyes had blown wide with panic, limbs locked up and behind him, Roman, hair messed up and hat discarded, look on in worry. 

“Uh, love, don’t worry-”

“I’m sorry- the fuck- don’t tell me to not worry!! You’re halfway along a branch above instant death!”

“I’ll be fine, V, I promise. I just need to get a message—” Patton waved vaguely to his hat —“to the top of the tree, and then I’ll come back, I swear. Okay?”

Patton watched as he couldn’t comfort his boyfriend as his breathing picked up, as he started thrashing in Roman’s grip, as he couldn’t name the things around hands. But as much as he wanted to get back to him, get back to Virgil to comfort him, he needed to do this for Roman. He deserved love as much as the rest of them. 

He took careful steps onwards, trying to create minimal movement, as the branch was moving a lot easier now.

Surely, this must be far enough by now? 

Patton stopped and put all his energy into boosting the lights in his hat. 

Dit. Dah. Dit. Dah. Dah. Dah. 

The little light blared into the expanse of the room, and Patton waited for a few minutes just to be sure. He looked skywards and turned around to make his way back, satisfied with his job. 

 ~

“Roqdestrmmdkn? What the everloving fuck is that meant to be?”

Logan had been zoned out. It was only the 4th day and he was bored and passed the time with blanking out and letting his focus slide. There were not many productive things to do. He only noticed the little blinking light at the bottom of the tree after Deceit rattled up towards him and motioned with his sparkling tail. 

Logan had watched the lights repeat it’s pattern 4 times, a lengthy gap between the repeats. Yet the message he tried to translate back was just a mix of letters, none of which make sense together.

“Are you sure you translated it right? I have no doubt, of course, just asking the obvious questions,” Deceit looked up at the angel, his long, yellow tinsel body curled around the tree and the hem of the deep blue dress.

“Yes, of course, I’m sure! I’ve done nothing but teach myself different forms of communication from this solitary post,” Logan answered hotly. 

“Well, it might be just you. Or it might be the other person. We only know after we talk to them, whoever they are. But that definitely wasn’t an elf,” Deceit replied coolly, unfazed by Logan’s outburst. 

“How do you know?” Logan saw past the lies.

“Oh, definitely wasn’t the fact that they had a flashing hat and shoes.”

Logan accepted that. He wasn’t noticed, mainly because he was busy figuring out the morse. 

“My point is… maybe they got it right. Maybe they were a little… rusty. How about you try shuffling it around a little bit. It might give you something to do instead of staring and mope.”

Logan shrugged, going back to observing the room. 

~

“PATTON!!” Virgil felt the yell rip from his lungs as he saw his lover trip over a cluster of needles, flailing as he fell forwards, grabbing onto the shaking branch. 

“Roman please, let me go. Roman. Please. Let go.” 

The arms around his chest did not move. 

“RomAN. LET. ME. GO.” Virgil’s voice deepened, echoing in their small space.  

Patton looked up from where he lay, gripping the swinging branch tightly, face showing a myriad of emotions; fear, apprehension, worry. 

“No, no, Virgil. Please don’t come to me. I’ll make it back. I’ll shuffle back once the branch stops swinging. Just don’t touch the branch, or it’ll swing more. Promise me you won’t, Virgil? Okay? Can you do that for me?”

Virgil let out a small shaky breath from beneath the arms holding him in place, wiping at the tear tracks that had marked their place down his face. Patton looked pleadingly at Virgil and the resolution seemed to drop out of the other elf. Virgil gave one shakey nod, and Patton relaxed.

He started working his way closer to the trunk of the tree, and while the branch was still drifting slightly from side to side and shuddered when Patton moved more quickly, but Patton was back to the sturdier parts in no time, and Virgil fell into his arms, burying his head in Patton’s shoulder. 

Roman left them to their comforting embraces. 

Tuesday 10th, about 3 AM

Roman was about halfway up the tree now and he had since met Deceit, the resident tinsel? Snake? Deceit seemed to be a mix of both, to be honest. 

A flurry of squawking shattered the comfortable silence Roman travelled in. 

“COME HERE YOU BASTARD BIRDS!!”

Roman grabbed a hold of a branch near him as the tree shook and another nutcracker tumbled down from above him. 

He was made with the same design as him, just his sash was a deep green, and his white suit was instead black. His face was a manic mixture of wide, crazed eyes, a deranged smile scrawled across his face and feathers and fir needles entangled in his hair. 

The similar, yet so different, nutcracker stuck a hand out with an air of uncaring confidence. 

“The name’s Remus! To whom do I owe the pleasure?” Even the way he spoke alluded to his madness. 

It didn’t stop Roman from reaching out hesitantly to grasp his hand. 

“Uh… Roman..?” Roman responded, having gotten over his shock at how forward the other character was. 

“Are you quite sure? You seem unsure. I don’t want you to be unsure.” The words tumbled from Remus’ mouth like sand from a broken hourglass. 

Roman blinked in shock again, before clearing his throat and readjusting himself. 

“Yes, yes, I'm quite sure. Roman Princeton.” With a sweeping gesture, Roman took off his hat, eyes glancing at the printed gold lettering inside the hat. 

“Princeton, you say?” an eyebrow raised. “My, that does, it seems, make us brothers!” With a mirroring flourish, Remus took off his hat and spun it around to show identical gold lettering. His smile stretched wider, and she bounced nearer, catching Roman’s arm by hooking his elbow around it. “Well, dearest brother, will you join me on my quest?”

“Your quest?” Roman queried.

“Yes, a goal I have to complete! Come! Follow me.”

Without giving Roman chance to excuse himself, Remus set off at a brisk pace, hopping between branches with the care of a drunkard in a tree (which is to say, little to no care at all), dragging Roman along all the while. Roman wanted to detach from his apparent brother’s arm, for fear of falling off the flailing fir branches. But soon, the erratic steps and bounces calmed somewhat and let Roman catch his breath and stand more firmly on the branches. Oh, and for Remus to let go.

They travelled in silence for a while, til Remus broke it.

“What brings you up this side of the tree then? I’ve not seen you around here before.” 

“I’m on a quest of my own, to the very top of the tree to try and win the heart of the angel.”

“Logan? Really? He’s got a bit of a stick up his arse. He’s no fun!” 

“I’m not so sure that our types of fun are the same,” Roman muttered under his breath, as Remus took a flying leap over a branch unnecessarily. 

“What’s your quest then, Remus?”

“Oh me? My quest is to defeat all the birds!! They like perching in MY area!!”

Roman frowned but didn’t respond. 

“Did you know that all the birds in this tree don’t have penises! They get cloacas. All of them! Even females! They rub them together when they start to feel friskeeey,”

Roman regretted ever coming into contact with his long lost brother. 

“Yes, but have the birds ever actually done anything wrong?” Roman interrupted the still babbling Remus. 

“Nah, I just felt like it one day and since then we’ve been in this war!” Remus bounced along, apathetic tone filling the space.

“Then why don’t you leave the birds alone? Aren’t you just terrorising them?”

The questions cause the chaotic nutcracker to freeze ahead of roman, spinning around on his heel almost robotically, eyes wide and fury upon his face. 

“So you’re on their side, huh? You want to stop me from having fun?” 

Remus drew the sword from his scabbard, an identical one to roman’s own, advancing, like a dangerous cloud, the dark green backdrop of the tree framing the nutcracker. 

Roman didn’t bother drawing his own sword; he didn’t want to fight, especially this high in the tree with a high chance of falling. So, as any smart person would, he ran, looking for a way to get up to the next layer of branches. Unfortunately for him, he found himself back to where he was, while still an angry rattish man following him with a very sharp sword. Roman looked around as he started running the circle again; there were slightly more low hanging branches, there were baubles which he could possibly jump from one to another, but it was dangerous- extremely so; as his options were running thin, he noticed in the corner of his eye a brilliant flash, which drew his eye to the glittery tinsel that was Deceit. 

“Oh, he’s going to hate me so much,” thought Roman, as he took a run up and leapt, grasping hold of the yellow strands that made up Deceit’s body.

Roman hauled himself up to the next level, expanding the distance between him and Remus -- after all, it’s difficult to climb a string of tinsel with a sword in your hand -- and Roman decided to play a waiting game, and hid in a bauble with a hole cut through it, where a LED candle had been placed. 

Well, it worked, and Remus soon gave up trying to find his brother, stomping off with a cry of “FUCK YOU BIRDS!”.

Saturday 14th, midnight

Logan had long worked out what the elf had been trying to say ("Roman is coming," a simple mistake of pausing too long in some places and not long enough in others). Since that day, he had been trying to get down from his solitary post.

Damn this blasted metal pole down the back of my dress.

Logan was getting irritated. There was no way to push himself upwards to get off the pole. So, he sulked. There wasn’t anyone to listen anyway. He’d been trying for seven nights now with no luck.

He ended up just listening to the music streaming quietly from the TV after one of the humans had fallen asleep on the sofa. Thankfully, it wasn’t Christmas music for once, just a gentle melody and quiet words. 

...you. At first, I thought you were a constellation. I made a map of your stars, then I had a revelation: You're as beautiful as endless, You're the universe…

Logan decided he liked this song. It filled him with a warm feeling, and slowly, he began humming along to the song, committing the words to memory, and he could almost imagine the smile on Roman’s lips. It was sweet. 

At that moment, he felt such a huge burst of longing he had to let out a shuddering breath he hasn’t realised he was holding. He had never felt so lonely, never wanted a hug more in his life, never felt like his heart was going to be ripped out of his chest like this before. He felt his arms tuck into his sides, his body curling as much as he could, curling in towards himself, trying to cradle the warm feeling that was flickering away from him ever so quickly. Logan let out another shuddering breath and he couldn’t stop the tears tracking their way down his porcelain cheeks. 

The song had long moved on when he broke out of his state, arms crossed around his torso, squeezing in to try and bring comfort.

“Logan? Are you well?” The tinsel had moved up towards him, speaking softly, wanting to help but not knowing how. 

Logan shook his head, not trusting his voice to work. 

“Look, I’m going to move closer to you, okay? I’m going to try and give you a hug, okay? Well, to the best of my ability.” 

The soft shuffle of tinsel over tree brought a small amount of comfort to Logan, but he felt himself flinching away from the brush against his skin. Deceit had moved back instantly, afraid to make him more uncomfortable. 

Why? Why was he like this?

Logan breathed out, opening his arms to the snake, and Deceit moved back slowly, resting his head on Logan’s shoulder, and logan let out another shuddering breath, wiping his tears away before tucking his head into deceit’s tassels. 

“I just want to get off this goddamn pole, Dece.”

Deceit nodded, slowly.

“I don’t know, I can’t help you.”

And Logan felt a small smile slip onto his face. 

~

As it turns out, Logan is absolutely terrified of heights. 

Deceit had curled around the bottom of the spoke and Logan had used it to boost himself off the pole. 

Only, now that there was no security and he was free to walk about, every step causing something to wobble, vertigo settled in and Logan found himself sat, clinging onto the pole that he had been restrained to or dear life, eyes pressed closed until he was sure he wasn’t looking down. 

“I’m going to stay right here and not tell Roman that you will not be meeting you partway down.”

Logan nodded quickly, trying to get used to having his eyes open, but he still had to press them closed sometimes. 

“Okay, but please be quick, I don’t like being up here alone.”

You should resume your standing position, something inside him reminds him. It’s nearly 6 o’clock.

Damn the goddamn time, too, he thinks.

Thursday 19th, about 5 AM

There wasn’t far to go now. Just a bit more. 

Deceit had helped him get unstuck from the branches twice. It was far easier to get the loop caught up here. All the branches were much closer together and felt more like wading through a jungle than climbing a tree. 

Roman looked from his current spot to see how much further he had to go. 

Not far, thank all the heavens. 

He couldn’t wait to see the angel once more, to see him and learn about him, and to comfort him and keep him company. 

He let his mind wander to the quiet Christmas music being played as he clambered through sweeping branches. He let himself hum along to the music, singing when there were words to be sung.

“When you first took my hand, On a cold Christmas Eve, You promised me, Broadway was waiting for me.”

He let the lyrics flow out of him, the melody washing him with a warm sense of nostalgia. 

“You were handsome-” Roman was interrupted.

“You were pretty, Queen of New York City.”  chimed another voice, perfectly in tune with the song. It was distant but audible, and definitely from above him and Roman felt his heart flicker with hope. 

“When the band finished playing

They howled out for more

Sinatra was swinging,

All the drunks they were singing

We kissed on a corner

Then danced through the night.” They finished the verse together, and Roman felt himself sink down to listen to the sweet sound of this other person. 

They made through most of the song, but they felt words dying on their lips, as the time ticked over to 6 o’clock. 

Perhaps they may finish a song together tomorrow. 

Friday 20th, Midnight

Logan was filled with the residual warm feeling that had settled in his heart yesterday.  

That couldn’t have been anyone but Roman singing yesterday; he knows the voices of every other creature that is near the top of the tree. That was not a familiar one, but it was a blessing to hear; Roman sung like an angel, however backwards that statement was. He wasn’t lying. 

“What’s got you all dopey then?” If Deceit had eyebrows Logan was sure that one of them would be raised. 

“Didn’t you hear him? His voice was so sweet and smooth and I don’t know how to feel ab-”

“My, my. I never imagined the day I’d see Logan Sanders swoon.”

“Oh, quiet, snake.”

“Well, guess I won’t help you get down towards him, then.”

“Wait! No, Dece come back, please!”

Deceit turned his head back towards the angel and tilted his head downwards. 

“Grab on then.”

Logan felt a wide smile slit his face, and he grabbed a hold of Deceit’s neck? Body? Did Deceit even really have a neck? Either way- unimportant. 

Deceit gently lowered Logan through three layers of branches, before stopping, and asking Logan to wait there, before disappearing into the expanse of branches.

When he came back up, clinging to his neck was a smartly dressed nutcracker, white tunic laced with gold embroidery and red sash drawing attention to his more muscular physique. 

(Logan didn’t hear Deceit mutter, ‘go get him, tiger’ to Roman before he slipped away)

God, Logan was swooning and damn, was Roman really, really hot. 

“Oh my god, you’re actually here.” The words tumble out of his lips before he could stop them. 

“I can’t believe I’m here, either, to be honest.” Roman chuckled, hand moving up to rub at his neck shyly, and Logan was gone, eyes full of wonder and nothing was stopping him from walking towards Roman. 

“The night sky once ruled my imagination,” Logan felt himself sing as he looked into Roman’s eyes. “Now I turn the dials with careful calculation.”

“After a while, I thought I'd never find you. I convinced myself that I would never find you when suddenly I saw you.” Roman started singing, and Logan felt his hand reaching out to grasp his hand. 

“At first I thought you were a constellation. I made a map of your stars, then I had a revelation: You're as beautiful as endless, You're the universe I'm helpless in.” They sang together, quiet melody being weaved between their words. 

They sang together, and Logan felt on top of the world, more so than he had when on top of the tree, and Roman felt on top of the world, higher than he’d ever been before. As the song came to an end, they rested their foreheads together, quietly appreciating each other’s presence. 

“Can I hug you?” Roman asked tentatively. Logan paused for a second, then nodded. 

The warmth that settled in his bones, the ease of the itches under his skin were so unknown and so distant in memory it felt like a lost memory returning. Logan had never quite felt as completed or safe as he had then, and he latched even tighter to the smaller nutcracker. 

Roman tucked his head into the angel’s shoulder, feeling the taller man relax and settle more, tension easing out of his muscles, slowly but surely, and the gentle shuffling of his wings drew Roman’s hand up to stroke them softly, and Roman felt Logan shiver in his hold. 

Logan whispered something almost inaudibly, and Roman let out a quiet chuckle.

“You’ll have to speak a little louder for me to hear, lov-”

“May I kiss you?” Logan kept his eyes trained to the floor, and Roman choked on his words. “I am no fan of feelings but you’ve quite encaptured me, but do not feel obligated to do anything bec-”

Logan was cut off with a sweet kiss, lingering slightly and stealing his breath. 

“Please shut up and kiss me again, Logan.” 

Logan didn’t hesitate to fulfil Roman’s request. 

[isitgintimeyet]

Road To The Aisles

AO3

Previous

Once again, thanks to all of you who take the time to read, like, reblog and comment. I am very grateful.

Thanks to @mo-nighean-rouge, @happytoobserve and @wickedgoodbooks for the continuing support.

Note - it’s not really NSFW, just a bit suggestive!

Chapter 4: A Sartorial Confluence

There is nothing more admirable than when two people who see eye to eye keep house as man and wife, confounding their enemies and delighting their friends.

― Homer, The Odyssey

The pub was quiet as Jamie and John settled themselves in their usual corner table, gym bags discreetly placed out of the way. Not that the space was crowded  so early in the evening, but at least it kept the landlord happy.

They sat quietly for a minute, drinking their whisky, before Jamie pulled his phone out of his jacket pocket and started flicking through the screens.

“See here, John, these are the latest pictures I took of William, yesterday. See how he’s growing awfa big... what?”

John couldn’t hide the smirk on his face. He pursed his lips and tried to look serious. “I’m sorry. Go on.”

“Am I going on too much about the bairn? I dinna mean tae but I canna help it.”

John shook his head. “No, I’m sorry. It’s not that. I just can’t help but think about you at university. You’d run a mile at the merest whiff of commitment… as soon as any girl started talking about plans for the next week, let alone long term. And to see you now… getting married, baby, the works.”

Jamie smiled and put his phone down. “Aye, weel, I was young and foolish and I hadna met Claire. Turns out commitment is easy when ye’re with the right person. But what about ye, John, do ye no’ fancy that commitment… marriage, maybe a baby? Do ye ever think about that?”

John picked up his whisky glass and stared into it, unwilling to raise his eyes to Jamie. “Yes, I do… sometimes.”

He paused, then quickly continued. “But I don’t want a baby without a relationship and obviously the whole baby thing is more difficult for me. No little accidents… sorry Jamie. It takes more planning if I… we… wanted a family. So I don’t know if any of that will happen. But I’d like to think it might… one day. Up ‘till then, I’ll just be Uncle John to your William.”

Jamie glanced at this watch and took a final swig of his drink. “I best away. Claire’s round at mine… soon tae be ours… this evening and we are planning what needs to be done at the weekend, before the official move. So all her stuff can fit in the house too. She said she’s planning on hiring a rubbish skip.”

“She is joking…” He stood up and looked at John. “I think.”

*************

“So, I’ve got a spreadsheet we need to work to,” Claire said happily as she opened up her laptop. “See, this column here is the list of things I’m bringing over from my flat, here’s where they’re going to go and this column is what we have to do to fit them in.”

Jamie studied the spreadsheet, then looked over at Claire. “What we have tae do with ma stuff?”

She nodded.

“And what’s C… R… B?”

“Charity, Recycle, Bin. Come on, I’ve gone through all my stuff at the flat. Over half the stuff’s gone to charity. Time for the same here. I bet you’ve not had a good clear out since you moved in, have you?”

“There may be a good reason why I keep things…”

“Is there?”

“Shush, Sassenach, I’m trying tae think of one… anyways... an Excel spreadsheet and ye look mighty proud of it.”

“I am and I thought you’d appreciate it, as an accountant and all. Just think of it as a balance sheet as we merge our assets.”

Jamie watched as Claire gathered up the laptop and roll of black bin bags. He couldn’t help but smile. This was the start of another chapter, so many new beginnings this year. It was exciting knowing that he would be waking up every morning next to Claire. He realised that they were practically living together already, but soon it would be official. And then they would be able to start planning the wedding.

But first came the hard work: sorting through all his belongings to make room for Claire’s. Mind you, he knew he would willingly give it all away as long as he had Claire… but there was really no need to tell her that, just in case.

“Shall we start in the bedroom?” Claire asked as she headed upstairs.

“Aye,” Jamie replied with a failed attempt at a wink. Claire, fortunately, was too far up the stairs to notice.

He joined Claire in his (their) bedroom, where she was standing in the middle of the room, hands on hips and contemplating the wall of fitted wardrobes. He walked straight over and proudly opened the doors of a double wardrobe. “See, made a start. This wardrobe is cleared and ready for yer clothes. If I give ye half the storage here, is that enough space?”

Claire nodded in agreement before walking across to another cupboard which she opened to reveal large evenly spaced shelves, each filled to capacity with an assortment of men’s clothing.

“How about here? Can I have a couple of these shelves too?”

“Aye, of course. I just need to have a wee look through the shelves…" Jamie began as Claire systematically scooped the contents of each shelf up in her arms and placed them in piles on the bed. The black bin bags hovered ominously at the edge of Jamie’s vision.

“Ok, so…” Claire reached across the bed. “What do we have here?”

She swiftly flicked through the pile of trousers. “Four pairs of cargo pants and two pairs of cargo shorts… really?”

“Aye, weel, they’re awfa practical, ye ken. Look at all the wee pockets… sae useful fer carrying all yer stuff. Ye have a handbag, I can use the pockets.”

“But I’ve never seen you wear them. When did you buy them?”

Jamie moved and sat on the edge of the bed next to the items in question. He gathered a pair up as he answered.

“A while ago…” he said evasively. “I thought mebbe I could wear them with William, keep things in the pockets… wet wipes… tissues… fresh nappies…”

“And,” he continued excitedly. “See this pair, look at the wee zips on the legs. Ye can even turn these intae shorts. Useful in Scotland when ye dinna ken what the weather’s going tae be.”

Jamie started to unzip one of the legs before Claire stopped him.

“That’s ok, no need to demonstrate. But when you’re out and about with these ‘useful’ trousers-slash-shorts, where would you put the bits of legs that you’ve unzipped? I mean, according to you, you don’t need a bag, and the pockets are going to be full of William’s stuff.”

“Is that a ‘no’ on the shorts then, Sassenach?”

“Up to you, Jamie, but how about you try them on and then make a decision?”

Jamie mumbled agreement as Claire turned her attention to her next pile of t-shirts.

“Ed Hardy? How long have you had these?”

“Probably while I was at uni.”

“And you’ve kept them all this time?”

“They’ll be classics, ye ken. Mebbe worth a bob or two.”

“All the more reason to give them to charity. Try one on if you like. Here you go.”

Claire tossed one of the t-shirts to Jamie. He stood and started to unbutton his shirt.

“Wait a second.” Claire stopped him.

“Eh? Ye dinna usually stop me taking ma clothes off, Sassenach.”

“Let’s just see if there is anything else for you to try on.”

Claire efficiently rifled through a pile of gym wear, plucking an item from the middle. She held up a pair of midnight blue Lycra cycling shorts, still complete with labels.

“And you don’t even have a bike.”

“Aye, I do, up at Lallybroch. I bought them and then decided they were a wee bit too revealing tae wear. And I must have forgotten tae take them back.”

Claire watched as Jamie quickly stripped off his black jeans and checked shirt before trying on the beige cargo pants and Ed Hardy t-shirt.

Jamie pulled the trousers up, meeting some resistance over his thighs. It took a considerable amount of wiggling and gentle tugging, but the trousers were on. Claire suppressed a smile as he breathed in, sucking his stomach in and trying to force the waistband to meet. With the fly zip not even half way up, he conceded defeat, let out the breath and turned his attention to the t-shirt. After struggling to get his head through the t-shirt, he finally managed it, the shirt’s hem landing a couple of inches above his navel.

Claire burst out laughing as Jamie stood in front of her, his arms held awkwardly at his sides, his muscles clearly defined through the straining fabric of the t-shirt.

“I canna move ma arms much, nor ma legs and I think I’ll need yer help to get me out of these.”

Jamie bent over as Claire grabbed the hem of the shirt and pulled it back over his head, snagging his ears in the process.

“So, alright, charity shop they are then.” He reached for his shirt.

“Just a minute,” Claire interrupted. “One more thing for you to try on.”

She pointed at the cycle shorts.

“Nah, they're fer the charity shop too. I told ye they’re a bit indecent.”

“I know. Just try them on… please.”

Jamie gave a chuckle as he turned away from Claire, quickly shimmied the cargo pants and his underpants off and pulled the cycle shorts on. He briefly adjusted himself before facing Claire once more.

“Weel, I canna give these tae the charity shop. Not now ma cock has touched them.”

“Er… that’s fine. I don’t think I want you to get rid of these.” Claire unashamedly stared at Jamie’s body, her gaze working its way down -- the broad shoulders, the muscles of his chest and abdomen narrowing to his hips, the strong thighs. She reached out and lightly touched his cock, the stirrings of his erection clearly visible through the Lycra. She stepped closer and grabbed his backside, bringing him tight against her.

With his breath hot against her neck, she let out a little sigh.

“Do these turn ye on?” he whispered in her ear.

“Oh god, yes.”  She moaned as she pushed Jamie onto the bed.

***********

“Jamie.” Claire giggled. “Really… already?”

“Mmm… eh… what?” Jamie’s voice was sleepy in Claire’s ear.

Claire reached behind her, fingers groping for the persistent hardness pushing against her back, only to find the roll of black bin bags. This had obviously been missed earlier when Jamie had roughly swept everything off their bed in his haste to satisfy Claire’s urgent excitement, thanks to his cycle shorts, which were now wrapped around one of his ankles. He shook his leg to free himself from them.

“What?” he repeated, now slightly less drowsy. He could feel Claire laughing, causing her whole body to shake.

“I thought you’d made a quick recovery. Turns out, it was only the bin bags, though.” She brandished the offending items aloft.

“Good girth there, I’ll take that as a compliment, Sassenach.”

“I need to get up.” Claire made to sit up but Jamie held her back, wrapping his arms tightly around her.

“Rest a while longer…”

They lay quietly together for a moment before Jamie started to speak.

“Ye ken this is our anniversary today”

“No, Jamie, you’re wrong. That’s at the end of the month”

“Ah, weel, I ken that’s the proper one, the anniversary of our first date. But it’s Rupert and Fiona’s wedding anniversary today, and that’s where I first spotted ye at that hotel. I sometimes wonder what would’ve happened if I’d have followed yer arse instead of just staring at it heading up those stairs.”

“Or if I’d have gone looking for you once I’d seen you with Jenny…”

“Imagine, nae more Geneva tae deal with in our lives.”

“Mmm, lovely as that sounds, it would mean no William.”

Jamie pulled Claire onto her side to face him. “Aye, and I truly couldna be without him now. I can be sorry for many things, and I am sorry for what ye have had tae go through but I am no’ sorry that we have William.”

Claire stroked Jamie’s face, rubbing the weekend growth of ginger bristles with her finger tips. “And you know, Jamie, neither am I.”

[tomtenadia]

Island Dreams - Chapter 22

Chapter 22 is here. This is number one of the three important chapters. i wrote it a while ago and i edited about 8 times. It's a big chapter (in every sense, almost 7k words) for our two lovebirds.

WARNING: This chapter contains smut not heavy but yeah... hot times... and definitely a wall :)

Aelin and Rowan  finally have their getaway. Oh yes, and there is also a tons of fluff.

Now... I am terrified at the idea of posting this chapter. This is the first time for me writing smut. I have read plenty of it but never written it. So I am panicking, I really hope it's not too cringy because this chapter means a lot and i want it too be good.

I really, really hope you will love this.

As usual, thank you to everyone who so far liked or reblogged my story <3 Love you all.

Rowan sings a song to Aelin and it's this one: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qfDtTHC8BoY. Please listen to this beauty, and you will understand Aelin's reaction.

We also get to know Malcolm, Aelin's second at the hospital. He is amazing and I love him already. Hope you will too.

Enjoy the chapter.

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

A few months had passed and summer had given way to winter and November had arrived. Aelin had slowly settled into her new job and fell in love with it. It was not as fast paced as London but that was a positive. She had the time to get to know properly all her colleagues and realised they were like a family. It was a small team and she could not believe that they were all getting along. In London with a much, much bigger team she had to deal with constant drama and dislikes. They had welcomed her in the group from day one and that had made everything easier. Malcolm, her second had showed her the ropes in the first few weeks while she was adjusting and since then he had been an amazing support. She had also discovered he preferred men and had a massive crush on Rowan and Aelin still laughed sometimes at the image of when Malcolm saw Rowan for the first time. 

He had walked straight into the A&E glass windows because he was too busy staring at her boyfriend. She and Malcolm had become great friends as well and he was slowly turning into the male and islander version of Lysandra. She was also impressed by the man’s skills. He had served as medical officer in the Navy and he was basically impossible to scare or to disgust. He was incredible in an emergency situation and Aelin loved the way he could keep his head straight. She had also taken under her wing an intern that reminded her a lot of a younger self. Finally after a long time she actually loved again going to work in an hospital and that had made all the difference. Not working in the bookstore felt weird and on a couple of occasions she had spent her days off there with Rowan. Her shifts were not crazy and they could easily see each other, a part from when she was due to work the night shift. But she had realised that somehow their relationship was getting stronger. They began cherishing a bit more the moments they had together. They still hadn’t done the deed but Rowan’s excuse was that if she wanted snow in their getaway they had to wait for winter.

That morning in late November her alarm went off and she slammed it shut quickly. It was Sunday and Rowan was not going to work. She made a move to get out of bed but an arm pinned her down. “Where are you going?” He was sleeping on his belly and his face was smashed in the pillow and his eyes were still closed. “Some of us have to go to work.” He grunted in response. Aelin leaned over and kissed his disheveled silver hair. She tried to move his arm but he pinned her down a bit harder. “Ro…” He grunted again and finally sat up and Aelin smiled. She loved seeing him in the mornings. He was always prime and proper during the day but mornings with his sleepy face and his messy silver hair, were her little treasure. The man was sex on legs even after waking up. “You don’t have to wake up for me.” “I got something for you.” Aelin gave him a questioning look. He smiled and gave her a piece of paper. She opened it and saw a name and dates. “Our getaway. That’s the name of the location and the dates I’d like.” He explained with still a sleepy voice. Aelin heart hammered in her chest. It was in a week. She had to make sure she could get time off. She waited months for this she and had no intention to postpone. “There are quite some cool lodges for holidays.” He smirked and heat polled between her legs. “I’ll make sure I get time off. I’ll beg Malcolm but I’ll have those days off.” “Good.” And he collapsed back in bed. “Go back to sleep.” She kissed him and left for a shower. A big grin on her face. Finally.

Aelin in the end had managed to get time off. Malcolm had offered to take her shifts after she had explained why she needed the time off. As a thank you she had offered to work two of his weekends and the man was even happier. Aelin and Rowan were now in the car toward their destination. They had taken the first ferry of the morning and were now back on the mainland. During the night it had snowed a lot and that’s why Rowan was at the wheel. Aelin had found an amazing cottage for a wonderful price. Being low season and all. They got a lodge in an isolated location with quite some luxuries. One of them was a working fireplace in their room. They had a massive kitchen according to the pictures but most of all, she was excited to try the small pool. Yes, in the back on the cottage there was a room with a small heated pool, with a floor to ceiling window. She had some plans already on how to use that room. They arrived an hour later. The place was near Lochinver. The town was covered in snow and Aelin was excited. They stopped in the village for food and then set off again. Once they arrived at their lodge Rowan complimented Aelin for the choice. There was nothing around them but woods and it felt like the perfect place, just like they had agreed. Aelin got off the car and was glad Rowan had convinced her about getting proper winter clothes. It was cold and she was looking forward to spend the four days in bed with him or cozying up in front of the fire. If they never left the lodge for nothing but food she would be happy. That’s all she needed. They took their luggage and entered the house and Aelin’s mouth fell open in surprise once she was inside. The place looked even better than the photos and everything was in wood. The bed looked like the ooziest place on Earth with thick fluffy blankets. “I love it.” Said Rowan stopping behind her and dropping his bags “You have good taste, Fireheart.” Aelin removed her shoes and ran to see the pool room. Once she got there she stopped “Rowan.” She shouted for his attention. He was at her side a moment later. “I have so many naughty ideas that you can’t imagine, Buzzard.” Rowan laughed and held her close “We’ll make sure to cover them all.” A soft kiss “Thank you for this. It’s the perfect birthday present.” She looked sternly in his eyes “No more hesitations.” Her finger wiggling in his face “This is our romantic getaway. We have snow and nature. All the conditions have been met. You promised.” He kissed her deeply and lifted her in his arms “I promised.”

They spent the afternoon outside. Aelin had convinced Rowan to do a snowman that now lived in front of their cottage. He took her out walking and they went for a very late lunch at the pie place in Lochinver. Eventually they got back to their accommodation and in the end they had a quiet afternoon and evening. Rowan had moved the big comfy chair in front of the window. She sat in his lap and they read for the rest of the day, watching the snow fall. Rowan was tired from the driving, he had done it before but the heavy snow made driving more challenging. so they had decided to relax as much as possible. It was later on that they decided to call it a night and Aelin smiled wickedly. She grabbed something from her suitcase and ran for the bathroom, locking the door. When she came out she noticed that Rowan was already in bed, reading. He finally noticed her and she loved his stunned face. She was wearing the most outrageous nightgown she had been able to find. It was black and lacy and covering very little of her body. Underneath she was wearing a flimsy lacy pair of lingerie leaving very little to the imagination. He had seen her naked already but she enjoyed the reaction. “What is that?” “Oh, I left Cookie Monster at home.” She said leaning sensually against the wall and she saw him straighten his back. “I thought this was more appropriate for the occasion.” Rowan got off the bed an in a couple of steps he was in front of her, staring down at her. She cupped his face and he covered her hand with his. For a moment it seemed like he was having an internal debate on what to do. Then in a swift motion he lifted her and he stopped in front of the fire and kissed her with a passion that sent Aelin reeling. “In front of a fire… is one my fantasies…” he told her in her ear. Aelin did not waste time and pulled him down on the plush carpet. The fireplace had a protective screen to prevent fire sparks to escape. In a house that was entirely made of wood, a fire would be a disaster. “Nice and toasty down here.” He hovered above her and her arms went around his neck. She pulled harder but he stayed where he was. “Patience. I am going to savour each minute of this night. I will not rush into this.” Aelin almost begged him. She didn’t want to wait. She needed him. But Rowan definitely had different plans. He gently lowered his body on hers making sure his weight was not crushing her. His hands trailed along her arms stopping at her wrists and pushing then her arms above her head. His mouth slanted on hers and with a keen tug of his mouth she opened for him. At the same time his hands began trailing back down again following her shapes and pausing at her hips. Rowan grabbed the hem of the nightgown and started lifting very slowly, taking great care in kissing every single bit of skin exposed. Aelin was on fire. She arched her back and moaned and the ache between her legs increased. He was barely touching her and she was ready to crack. The nightgown disappeared beyond her “For as much as I loved that nightgown of yours, I still prefer you naked.” And his mouth closed on one nipple, sucking, nibbling while the other hand was playing with the other one. Aelin shook and moved her hips to grind against him but he blocked her with his weight. She felt him hard against her and her hands landed on his back and nails definitely left marks. His tongue was doing devilishly things to her now hard peak and she pulled him even closer, inflicting more marks on his back. She squeezed her legs as she felt wetness spread and he had barely started. Oh, that wicked tongue of his was doing wonderful things and she imagined the same motions between her legs. The mere thought of his mouth on her was enough to make her moan. Gods, she was going to combust very soon. He lifted his gaze and stared at her. While never averting her stare he flicked her nipple with the tongue and in that instant one hand landed between her legs. Tempting, teasing, exploring. “Hmmm…” he had probably felt how ready she was. His mouth began its journey downward, kissing and licking and stopped at the band of her underwear. A black lacy piece of garment that covered very little. Teeth slowly lowered the garment “Lift.” She lifted her bum and allowed him to remove the piece of fabric. She was now bare in front of him. They had seen each other naked and they had explored each other bodies, but for some reason it still felt new. “You are stunning.” He breathed. His mouth landed on her inner thigh and from there he trailed down to her knee. He kissed the back of it and began his journey back with his tongue. The whole thing was mirrored on her other leg and Aelin almost whimpered. She placed her legs on his shoulder and he smiled as she spread her legs even more. He looked up to Aelin and saw her eyes closed and her mouth slightly open. His face disappeared between her legs “So, so, needy for me.” He whispered against her centre. Her hips rolled in an invitation but his hands pinned her down. “I will take,” a kiss at the edge of her folds “my time,” a mirror kiss on the other side “one kiss,” his thumb repeated the motion “at a time.” The thumb followed the same path as the mouth. His tongue finally took a long lick of her and Aelin screamed at the feeling. Lick after lick she started saying his name like a prayer and she had no idea how much longer she could resist before she was going to shatter under his ministrations. “Ro —“ she could not finished the thought. One of his finger slid into her and his tongue hit again that one magic spot and another loud moan left her. A second finger slid in and Aelin screamed as he hooked them inside her, brushing that deep secret corner of hers. Gods the man had skills. The moan that escaped from her almost undid him. “Rowan, please—“ she begged him arching her hips to grind against his fingers. His thumb replaced his tongue at her apex and she was now whimpering, the sensation becoming almost too much to bear. His fingers were now pumping hard in and out of her and Aelin was glad they had no neighbours. Her body jerked and he felt her core tighten around him and he knew she was near. His pace picked up a bit more, tongue and fingers dancing to bring her pleasure. “Gods, Ro I—” and the world exploded around Aelin. Fire spread through her body, up her spine, down her legs as they jerked, shaken by the powerful climax he dragged out of her. She kept repeating his name in a whisper as her hips rocked riding her high until there was nothing left of her but a limp mess on the carpet. Her eyes closed and an expression of pure bliss on her face. Once he was satisfied he sat back on his haunches between her legs and when she caught his eyes he brought his fingers to his mouth and slowly licked them clean in a gesture that almost gave Aelin another orgasm. “Damn it Whitethorn, get down here and kiss me.” She was breathless and she was not sure her cognitive functions were fully back yet. “I love how you look right now.” She grabbed his face and pulled him into a kiss and tasted herself on his lips “I think I have scratched you back.” “I don’t care,” he said softly kissing her neck “I’ll bare my scars with honour.” His hands sneaked under her shoulders and grabbed the side of her face kissing her gently. Aelin’s arms wound around his back again. He went back kissing her and his hips started rolling against her in a suggestive motion. He needed her badly. He wanted to claim her in the most intimate and wonderful of ways. “Why you are not naked yet, Whitethorn?” He smiled against her neck “I was otherwise occupied.” He pulled back and stood, finally removing his clothes one at a time with intended slowness. He was now standing towering over her all naked and she thought she could never tire of the view. She noticed his hardness and her mouth went dry at the view. He was magnificent. As a provocation she put her hand between her legs and could not believe that she was still so ready for him. “I don’t think so.” He kneeled and picked her up and once in his arms she wrapped around him. “Someone requested a wall, if I remember correctly.” His voice a mere whisper against her ear. She looked in his eyes and she had a feeling his control was hanging by a tether. The lust and desire in his them were enough to reignite the fire in her. While walking to a free side of the wall her hand slid between them and she grabbed him but he growled and slammed her back against the wardrobe “Stop it or we’ll never make it to the wall.” She teased him again and a moment later she felt her back slam against the wall, his hand behind her head in protection. His mouth was hard against hers. Another gentle brush of his tip with her thumb and his hips slammed into her “Fuck, Aelin.” She knew he had lost it as she had never heard him swear or even curse very mildly. Her hands trailed from his back and with a gentle caress she brushed his wide shoulders. She wanted to kiss every centimetre of his body. She slid down slightly until she felt his tip nudge her entrance and in response she angled her hips just enough to allow him easier access. Rowan groaned, burying his face in her neck and with gentle rolling thrusts he finally slid into her. She heard him mutter something in Gaelic and his mouth almost bit her on the neck. “Gods, Aelin this is—“ but he did not finished the sentence as he slid into her again with a bit more force this time. Rowan moaned. She felt perfect around him. She rolled her hips once again and Rowan pulled out and his thrusts became a bit harder. Aelin’s nails left more marks on his beautiful skin. He pulled out again and thrusted in once more adding again more force. He repeated the motion a few more times and Aelin pushed her hips forward to increase the contact with him. “I dreamed about this for a while. How it would feel to finally join with you.” His accent now thick once again and she desperately searched for his mouth. His hand gripped her butt so tight she will probably have bruises the next day but she could not care. His rhythm picked up and Aelin could feel her release building up in her core once again and she heard herself moan savagely as one of his thrusts hit her most sensitive spots. She was about to give in to another earth shattering orgasm when she noticed he was nowhere near close to his climax. Damn, the man was not joking when he said he had stamina. “Tha gaol agam ort.” he whispered to her, kissing her neck “Tha gaol agam ort.” he repeated it like a prayer. One of his fingers dipped between her legs and Aelin’s legs tightened around his back and this time she screamed as her climax built up to a point she knew she was going to combust in his arms. And when his mouth found her again and his tongue did devilish things to her, her release finally exploded and rippled through her body, shattering her. And as the savage release wrecked havoc in her body, she lost recollection of time and place and of her own name. The wild climax spread to her back and down to her toes making them tingle in pleasure. And when she felt like she could finally melt in his arms, she realised he was not done yet. His rhythm had picked up once more and she almost whimpered when she felt another orgasm built up pretty quickly right after the other one. “Shit, Rowan I—” and her mouth closed on his skin to muffle the scream that broke free from her while she reached her high a third time. Rowan grunted and his hand cupped her butt harder and finally, in one final powerful thrust he reached as well his release. His hips rocked until he was spent and Aelin went limp against him her chest rising up and down in a desperate need for oxygen. She heard him pant as well and for a moment, neither of them tried to move, him still deeply seated in her. He took a big gulp of air and then kissed her shoulder and then her mouth until his forehead rested against hers, his eyes now on hers. He was breathing hard. Aelin’s hands cupped his face “You look exhausted.” She kissed him gently. He shook his head “I am just—” another gulp of hair “I never felt like this before.” He pulled her closer into an embrace and pulled away from the wall. Slowly, his legs still shaking, he walked back to the bed and with gentleness he deposited her on it and leaned forward for a kiss. She pulled him down to her and once he was at her side she nestled against him. “ 's ann leatsa a tha mo chridhe gu brath” a shy kiss on her cheek “You said something similar at Callanish.” He shook his head “same thing.” “What does it mean?” Her hand splayed on his chest. “My heart is yours forever.” She leaned forward and kissed him. “Did you forgot your name?” His voice was soft and his accent still so very thick. “I did,” she chuckled. “I love your accent just now and while we were busy. It gets thick and it’s very sexy.” He nibbled at her ear and muttered something unintelligible in what she knew it was Gaelic. It was a song. He was definitely humming something. “What is it?” “S mi fo bhròn 's tu gam dhìth. Ged nach eil sinn fhathast pòsd’. Tha mi'n dòchas gum bi. Fhad' 's a mhaireas mo dhà dhòrn, Cha bhith lòn oirnn a dhìth.” Aelin’s eyes almost welled with tears. She caressed his face and he closed his eyes. “That was beautiful. Whatever it was it was…” he kissed her. “I am sorrowful without your company, although we are not married, I hope we will be. As long as I have my two hands, we will want for nothing.” He translated for her and then kissed her “The song is called Fair love of my heart. It’s the story of a lonely man and his tale about this woman he loves who then tells him her destiny is with him.” “I love you.” Her face leaned on his chest on his heart “I love you so much that sometimes it hurts.” Her hand twined in his. His arms went around her and he pulled Aelin on top of him. She smirked at him and kissed his mouth, dragging her tongue across his lips. Then her hand slipped down between his legs and she loved his expression morph into pleasure as she stroked him gently. With a couple of stroked of her hands he was almost hard again and Aelin appreciate the luck of having a man with stamina. “I guess is my turn now…” Her tongue trailed along his chest and disappeared under the thick blanket he had draped on top of them. “Aelin you—“ Rowan’s back arched and closed his eyes at the first feeling of her mouth on him.

When Aelin woke up she had the biggest smile on her face. She turned her head and noticed Rowan at her side. His arms as usual over her in a protective gesture. They were both still naked. They had fallen asleep not long after their lovemaking and clothes had been forgotten. The blankets were still at the bottom of the bed and she was freezing. The fire had died out and the heating hand’t gone on just yet. She grabbed the duvet and hid under them snuggling against Rowan. He was always warm. “Morning,” he told her kissing her deeply. She grinned back at him. “I love you,” he whispered and she kissed his nose. “I am cold.” Rowan laughed and got out of bed to switch on the heating. Then he looked at the clock and realised it was past nine in the morning. “I think we need breakfast.” He had said simply, as if he cooked naked every day. Aelin pulled herself up on her elbows and stared at him dreamingly as he gave his back to her. His glorious back side was rock hard and she had a mad desire to bite it, while caressing that wonderful broad back of his. Even just looking at his naked body was enough for heat to pool between her legs. Her mind went to what she did to him under the blankets or to their adventure against the wall and she almost moaned. “Are you okay?” He asked, half turning while preparing their breakfast. “Nothing.” She cleared her voice in hopefully a subtle way. She landed back on the bed and covered herself with the duvet. One hand went between her legs and she discovered she was super wet again. “Fuck.” She whispered. “What are you doing under the blankets like that?” And light hit her when she noticed he had pulled the duvet from over her and when Aelin looked up his eyes were wide and locked on her hand and what she was doing. “I… You…” her mouth could not form a proper sentence “It’s your fault, you walk around naked.” He laughed and lowered on her and kissed her hard and a hand joined hers. Aelin was about to remove hers “No, keep it there.” He said instead. His hand covered hers and they moved together until Aelin felt an orgasm rise very quickly. He moved faster until release came and he muffled her scream with a kiss. “Food is almost ready.” Was all he said as if nothing had happened and walked back to the kitchen. He came back a moment later with a bed tray and placed it on her lap. Then he did the same for him and sat down beside her. “Never had a sexy breakfast in bed before.” She took a bite of the food and she realised she was starving. “What, police guy never made you post sex breakfast?” He asked while drinking his coffee. Aelin scoffed “I am just realising that we didn’t have the most exciting sex life.” She confessed biting a piece of bacon “Maybe I really was the one who drove him to cheat on me. I have been asking myself if I actually really loved him. If I stayed with him just because it was easy.” She sighed and Rowan grabbed her hand without interrupting her “Before it went downhill he was a good man. And I guess I felt something, but now with hindsight, comparing it to what I feel for you, I realise that I never felt anything ever so powerful for Chaol.” She put her fork down “He was horrible in the end. It hurt. But I think I stopped caring for him before I served him with the divorce papers.” Rowan pulled her to his shoulder and kissed her head. “Sorry,” she apologised “We just had a wonderful morning and I am ruining everything by moping on my failed marriage.” Once they were done, Rowan took the trays with empty plates and placed them on the floor, then grabbed Aelin and he pulled her down in bed, her face to him and covered them both, cuddling tenderly. “Lyria and I probably had just one year of true happiness.” He confessed “Then talks of the Olympics started and I knew that all of a sudden she was more interested to be with me because of who I was. But I still felt something for her. I proposed like a fool, but some of my friends had told me it was a bad idea. After the accident I knew she was bored of me. But I ignored the signs I just kept her with me.” He kissed her forehead “We both had relationships that failed. Horribly.” He grabbed her hand and dragged it to his chest “But now all of that doesn’t matter anymore. We, you and I, matter now.” Aelin nodded. “Just you and I.” Then in a swift motion Aelin got off the bed and pulled the covers at the bottom of the bed. She had enough of moping and sad stories. They were there to have fun. “What are you doing, you menace?” “Remember the pool?… fancy some post breakfast swim?” She stared at him and sensually brushed her hand on her abdomen, while a finger almost reached between her legs. She definitely had his attention now. Rowan stood and a moment later she was in his arms, being carried bridal style. He walked with purpose to the back of their cottage where there was a small pool. The pool was slightly larger as Rowan was tall and probably over a meter and a half deep but she would take it. Rowan climbed down the steps and entered the water with her still in his arms. She climbed down and realised the water was warm and it felt spectacular on her body. She submerged and saw Rowan do the same. When she came up for air he was on his knees in front of her. He then moved to the side of the pool that was slanted allowing people to lean in the massive tub. Aelin stood and with her naked dripping body and walked until she stopped in front of him. She removed the band from her hair and undid the braid, shaking her head to free it. Rowan stared up at her and his stare turned predatory and when she looked down she noticed he was ready for her. She sat down and straddled him, her thighs just below his length. She leaned forward and nibbled at his lips and he moaned lightly. Aelin grabbed him in in her hand and Rowan gasped hard. Once she was sure he was really ready for her, Aelin fully straddled him and lowered on him with maddening slowness. He closed his eyes and his hands went to her hips. Half way through Aelin pulled up and she heard him growl and at that sound she seated hard on him, taking him all in, in one swift motion. “Aelin—“ but her mouth was on his before he could finish the sentence. “Pool sex, another one my fantasies…” she licked his neck and Rowan grabbed her hips harder and let her set the pace this time.

It was over an hour later when they were again a breathless mess in each other’s arms. The first time had been hard and fast, but the second time they had taken their time and it had been much gentler. So slow that he made her come four times. Rowan sat and she took her place between his legs and cuddled while watching the snow falling outside. They remained in the pool a little longer enjoying the view. Then Rowan pulled her out of the water. Aelin went back to the room and it dawned on her that it was late afternoon and they really had spent the whole day making love and in each other’s arms. They had dried themselves and she grabbed her nightgown still scattered on the floor but Rowan stopped her. “No clothes allowed.” He kissed her. “Who am I to complain?” And she threw the garment back on the floor with the rest of their clothing. “We can have a late lunch if you are hungry.” She gently bit his shoulder while her hand cupped his butt “Hungry for you, always.” He laughed and went to the kitchen. “I was not joking, Buzzard.” She sat on the bench near the table crossed her legs and pushed her chest out “We should be naked at home as well.” He had his head buried in the fridge and turned to her “If we do that we risk never leaving the house ever again and we both have jobs.” “Spoilsport.” She stood and walked around the room swaying her hips. “You really are a menace.” An hour later Rowan had managed to put together a meal and they finally sat on the bench at the table. Aelin’s legs extended on his. In response to the provocation, Rowan had decided to eat his meal with one hand since the other one had been buried between Aelin’s legs. Once she was done eating she lowered her legs at each side of the bench opening for him. “Are you going to do something or not?” She teased him. Rowan accepted the challenge and ten minutes later Aelin lay on the bench breathless and with his name on her lips. Once they were done, and Aelin recovered she stood and cleared the dishes from the table then went back to him. She climbed on the table and sat down in front of him, her legs on both side of him. She spread them wide and leaned backwards a bit. She licked one of her fingers and briefly touched herself knowing he will enjoy the sight. “Wicked, wicked woman.” He stood and in a second his finger was in her “I guess I can have dessert tonight.” A second later Rowan had gripped her and flipped her on her stomach and bent her over the table. He had feasted on her and after that he had taken her from behind and Aelin was again very glad they had no neighbours.

By they time they got back to their bed Aelin was exhausted. “I think we will need a holiday to recover from this holiday.” She leaned back against Rowan’s chest and grabbed her book. Eventually they had decided to take a break and relax with some reading. “Hm.” Said Rowan who was all intent on reading his book. One hand up to eye level holding the book, the other in her hair, playing with it “You should have dried your hair better.” He said in his usual protective tone, and then went back to his book.

When Aelin woke up the next morning she felt like death. She had a splitting headache and was shivering from the cold. She snuggled as much as possible against Rowan and groaned in pain. “Hey,” he said when he felt her shiver. “I am so cold.” “The heating is on. I put it on a timer.” He drew her closer and noticed that Aelin was uncharacteristically warm. His mouth was on her forehead and he felt she was burning. “You are running a fever.” He got up and went to the bathroom to see if they had a medicine cupboard. Quickly he grabbed his clothes and got dressed, and raised the heating a notch. A moment later he sat on the bed beside her “I am going to the village to the pharmacy.” “I am fine…” she croaked. “You are not fine.” He kissed her forehead. “Be careful, please. The snow.” “I will be very careful.” He left and Aelin buried herself under the blankets.

Rowan was back a while later from his trip to the pharmacy and found Aelin hiding and shivering under the duvet. “Hey,” he pulled the blankets back and noticed she was still naked. He swore and ran to her suitcase to see if he could find clothes more useful than her flimsy nightgown. He sighed relieved when he found her Cookie Monster pyjama. “Aelin,” she groaned in reply. He pulled her up to a seated position and started pulling clothes back on her. Once she was ready he put her down again and covered her. He removed his winter clothes and got back to his more comfortable house slacks and then began looking after her. He had bought a thermometer and first of all checked her temperature and his worry increased when the digital screen told him 39C. He took the medicines and followed the instructions the pharmacist had given him. He placed a wet towel on her forehead. “Aelin,” “Hmm.” “I need you to take these. They will help to lower the fever.” Gently he helped her sit up a bit and she took the pills and then the water he offered. “Good.” Once she was lying down again he went to plan two. He filled one of his water bottles and placed on her bedside table so that she could drink as much as possible, then went back to the kitchen and started making soup. Carrot and coriander was light and easy and he knew Aelin loved it. An hour later the soup was ready and exactly as she liked it. He poured the contents in a bowl and walked the the bed and placed it on the nightstand. “Can you eat something for me? I made you soup.” “Which one?” She muttered, eyes half open. “Carrot and coriander.” “My favourite.” “I know.” He smiled and then grabbed his pillow and helped her sit up. “Everything hurts…” she complained. “You have a high fever. It’s normal.” He set the wet towel aside for now and kissed her forehead. Then sat in front of her and grabbed the bowl. He tasted a spoonful to check whether it was too hot. “Come on.” She complained that she could feed herself but he was in full fussing mode and there was no way to deter him and she had no strength to fight him. Spoon by spoon she ate the full bowl and Rowan smiled proudly. Once he was done he helped her again to lie down and tucked her in. Finally he moved the big chair near her side. He grabbed a book and plopped down, stretching his legs on the bed. With one hand he held the book, with the other he held her hand. He stared at her until she fell asleep then went back to his books.

Aelin woke up later in the evening. She turned and was disappointed in finding the other side of the bed empty. She sat up and noticed Rowan still on the chair at her side. He was sleeping and had a book on his lap. Then her gaze turned to the nightstand and noticed a thermometer and pills and she remembered. She had waken up with a savage fever and he had looked after her. She felt a bit better but the dull headache was still there and some aches as well. She took her temperature and noticed it was still in the low 38C. She took more medicines then her stomach growled. She was starving. With shaky legs she left the bed and noticed she had Cookie Monster pyjama on. She smiled. Then grabbed Rowan’s hoodie and put it on as well and went to the kitchen. She grabbed some bread to be toasted and went to the fridge for her jam and grabbed as well the large bottle of orange juice that Rowan must have bought. Caffeine was definitely a bad idea. She was eating happily when she heard Rowan approaching. “Aelin?” “Kitchen.” She said. “What are you doing out of bed?” He sat on the bench beside her. “I was starving.” “You could have woken me up.” He brushed her hair with his hand and touched her forehead “You are still warm.” “I know. But I need food.” “Go back to bed and I will bring it to you.” Fine, let him fuss. He was so adorable. Five minutes later he was carrying a tray with a plate with a few slices of bread with jam, a couple of his oatmeal biscuits and orange juice. Aelin protested at the biscuits but he said that she had to eat light and her ones were not approved yet. “Too much time outside in the snow, then the pool and then you did not dry your hair properly. That’s what you get.” And kissed her nose tenderly. “I ruined our getaway.” “No, you didn’t.” He smiled “At least you got sick after.” And he laughed. They spent the rest of the day in bed, then they had taken a warm bath together but Rowan was adamant in avoiding any illicit activity. And then he was the one who dried her hair complaining that she did a bad job the day before and got ill. That night they sat in the big chair, Aelin on his lap and a thick blanket around them and watched outside the window. Rowan’s app alerted him of a possibility of Northern Lights and the sky was clear. They had switched off all the lights in the cottage and were now waiting patiently. She was about to fall asleep when Rowan nudged her and pointed at the window. Aelin gasped in amazement and snuggled closer to him. Together and in silence they held each other and stared at the magnificent show outside.

Two days later it was time to go back home and Aelin was sad. Their getaway had been perfect. Even with her illness they had a wonderful time. “We just have to come back.” He said kissing her cheek. “Thank you for taking care of me.” “I will always take care of you.” They locked the door behind. Returned the keys and got back in their car. And home they went. To their adventure.