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theladyofdeath · 4 years

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The Ranch {6}

An A Court of Thorns and Roses, Nesta x Cassian, Modern AU, fanfiction.

Collaboration: @throne-of-ashes-and-beauty x @tacmc

Summary: Nesta had spent years in Paris, living her dream and drowning in riches as a gourmet chef, capturing the hearts of the city and its people. But, after her father passes away unexpectedly and leaves his cozy, countryside B&B to his oldest daughter, Nesta is moving back home to the tiny town of Velaris, where the ranch, her sisters, and her father’s unfulfilled dream, awaits.

Sidenote: Being posted between two blogs, it is too chaotic to keep up with a tags list, so all chapters will be tagged with “#TheRanchNessian” & “#SharaCollab”.

A/N: The fact that you all love this so much makes me so happy - bc it’s my favorite thing shelb and i have EVER written. Let us know what you think! x

The Ranch Masterlist

When Nesta received Feyre’s texts to go out for drinks, rather than coffee, she’d be lying if she said she didn’t hesitate for a minute. But she and Feyre really had made progress during their family dinner, enough that she’d even hugged Nesta on the way out. So she’d replied that drinks sounded great, and Feyre sent her an address and a time.

Now, as Nesta got out of her car, she scanned the surroundings of the small dive bar she was at. She didn’t recognize a single vehicle, but knew that wasn’t likely. The air was thick, so close to the Sidra, but the breeze cooled whatever heat was present before it could settle on her skin.

She felt ridiculous for being nervous, but she couldn’t control herself. Those nerves crept into the pit of her stomach, making her rethink everything as she slowly stepped toward the entrance. The door creaked as she pulled it open, and music had been blaring before she’d even stepped inside.

Spotting Feyre, seated at the bar, right away, Nesta pushed through the small crowd of people. Planting herself on the barstool right next to her littlest sister, Nesta called for a drink.

Feyre grinned, then said above the music, “I’m glad you found it! I assume you’ve never been here.”

She was right, Nesta hadn’t, but it definitely had a certain charm to it. “It’s cute!”

Feyre gestured behind Nesta, to where the music was coming from. “I come for the entertainment!”

Nesta looked over her shoulder and found herself surprised, although she probably shouldn’t have been. Feyre had mentioned that Rhysand was a musician, which is who owned the soothing, melodic voice that filled the bar. What really surprised Nesta, though, was the guitar player behind Rhysand, strumming away.

Cassian had already spotted Nesta, and he was watching her with narrowed, amused hazel eyes.

“I didn’t know Cassian played guitar,” Nesta said, turning back to her sister.

“I think there’s a lot of things you don’t know about him that will surprise you,” Feyre said, a secret smile on her face.

Nesta wanted to turn back around to look at the man strumming the guitar on stage, but she wouldn’t let herself. She was in awe of him, every time she turned around he was doing something else extraordinary.

Nesta sipped the glass that the bartender set down in front of her and asked, “Is Az hiding somewhere up there, too?”

Feyre chuckled and said, “No, Azriel plays a different type of music.” When Nesta looked at her with a raised eyebrow, waiting for an explanation. “You’ll have to ask him.”

Nesta groaned. “What is up with you all and secrets?”

Feyre shrugged and put her bottle to her mouth, but it was so utterly obvious how amused she was - how amused they all were - with their little secrets.

“How have things been between you two?” Feyre asked. “Since the other night.”

Nesta didn’t have to ask who the other half of you two was. But, she had nothing to hide. Everything had been simple since Nesta apologized...and completely freaked out in front of Cassian the few nights before. They had been polite toward one another, had made conversation and joked around when they crossed paths. And, the morning before, Nesta had a mini lesson in ranching from the rancher himself. If she was going to be around for a while, she may as well pick up on a few basic things so she could help out when possible.

“It’s been good,” she answered, finally.

Feyre raised a perfectly sculpted brow as she set her bottle back on the bar top. “That’s all I get? It’s been good? Last time I was creeping on you two out of the kitchen window, you two idiots were grinning like fools.”

Nesta’s eyes narrowed. “Did you just call me an idiot?”

Feyre’s eyes rolled. “I’m just saying, you two were actually being friendly.”

Friendly.

Nesta guessed that was the best way to describe what she and Cassian had been the past couple of days. She glanced over her shoulder, back to the stage, only to find those hazel still on her.

“We’ve got a table down front,” Feyre said, flagging down the bartender. “Let’s get another drink and move down there.”

Nesta ordered her drink and as Feyre ordered two beers for her and Rhys, she had an idea. “Excuse me,” she said, catching the bartender before he moved to make their drinks. “But you wouldn’t happen to have a maple bourbon back there, would you?”

By the time Rhysand had finished his set list, Cassian was sweaty, tipsy, and wound up tighter than a rattlesnake ready to strike. Rhys hadn’t told him Feyre was bringing a guest. He definitely didn’t mention Nesta was coming, so he was pretty sure Feyre had set this one up without telling him. And from the look on Nesta’s face when she turned and saw him, he’d have guessed she didn’t know he’d be here either.

He wasn’t disappointed, just caught off guard.

He had watched her as he played, while Rhysand sang, and every time their eyes connected, she had quickly looked away and found the contents in her glass overly interesting.

Now, as they both meandered off the stage, he decided he could definitely use another drink.

The last time he and Nesta had been in a bar, with alcohol, the night hadn’t turned out all that well.

Rhys had gone straight to Feyre, as he always did, lifting her into the air and kissing her. He did it for a few reasons, the most obvious because he loved her and the two of them could be barely be apart for more than ten minutes before one of them began whining about missing the other. But the other reason was the group of ogling women who always seemed to show up for Rhys’ set. He wanted them to know that he belonged to someone else.

It didn’t stop them from trying.

Cass’ boots thumped down the wooden steps and made his way to the bar. He didn’t even have to ask for anything, the bartender already knowing his go to drinks, depending on his mood. A cold bottle of beer and a shot of whiskey appeared in front of him. He gave the bartender a wink and tossed back the shot. After grabbing the bottle off the bar, he began to make his way, begrudgingly, to the others.

He reminded himself to think before he spoke, reminded himself not to admire how sexy Nesta looked in her jeans and tank top, reminded himself to keep his distance. Things had only just become okay between the two of them, he wouldn’t mess it up.

Feyre was sitting on Rhysand’s lap and whispering something into his ear when Cassian got back to the table. Nesta was already watching him as he took a seat next to her.

“Are they always like this?” she muttered.

Cassian grinned, putting his bottle to his lips. “Annoyingly so, yes.”

The silence between them wasn’t a true silence, not with the music and chatter and laughter around them. But the space between them was…awkward.

Nesta cleared her throat. “I didn’t know you played guitar.”

There were about a hundred and one ways he’d like to answer her question, but instead, he gave her a polite smile, and said, “There’s a lot you don’t know about me.”

He couldn’t read the look in her eyes as she took a sip of her drink and said, “You’re really good.”

“Thanks,” he muttered, nodding, and he continued to nod as the silence came, once again, because he had no idea what else to say.

Feyre was sticking her tongue down Rhysand’s throat.

Nesta, following his gaze, scrunched her nose, and Cassian couldn’t help but laugh. “Do you dance?”

Nesta hesitated.

“I’ll keep my hands in appropriate places,” he promised.

Nesta’s hesitation turned into a small smile as she said, “Alright. Why the hell not?”

Anything was better, Cassian assumed, than watching Feyre and Rhysand makeout for the next ten minutes. Cassian pushed his chair back and held out his hand. After another second of hesitation, she put her hand into his.

He led her out into the small dance floor, the song that was playing through the jukebox ending up and a slower song began. He once again held out his hand and she moved in closer, placing her hand in his and letting the other rest on his shoulder. His arm snaked around to the small of her back and at her sudden intake of breath, he moved it up slightly.

“Sorry,” he said, as they began to move in small circles.

Nesta huffed a laugh. “It’s okay. I don’t- I haven’t- it’s...been a while since I’ve danced. With a man.”

Cassian came to the ultimate conclusion that it had been a while since she’d done anything with a man.

“Too busy being a badass boss the last few years?” he asked, trying to keep the conversation light.

“Something like that,” she said, eyes bright. “What about you? Do you ask women to dance often?”

Cassian liked to think there was a little bit of jealousy in her voice, when, in reality, it was most likely nothing more than a curious question. “No, not really. Usually, by now, I’m drunk off my ass, sitting next to Rhysand and Feyre while they make a public love scene. Unless Azriel and Elain are here, of course. Then, I’m sitting in the middle of both couples while one makes out, and the other stares into each other’s eyes with such adoration that I literally am tempted to set myself on fire.”

Nesta’s laugh was bright and beautiful as she shook her head. The sound of her laughter alone made Cassian want to grab her face into his hands and press his mouth against hers. Shaking the thought away, he cleared his throat and continued to spin her in slow, gentle circles.

“I’ve never seen two people that are so…” Nesta let the sentence fall away, and Cassian tried to help her finish it.

“In love?” He asked.

Her eyes fell back on him as she said, “Happy.”

He didn’t know why that made his heart ache as badly as it did. “You haven’t told me what it was like when you were younger. Why exactly you wanted to leave.” When she looked down, when he felt her tense up, he added, “You don’t have to tell me now. You don’t have to tell me ever. I just…” He sighed. “I want you to know that I’m not just a pretty face, with a ripped body, and a badass bond with animals. You can talk to me, about anything you need to.”

She started laughing again, which was his main goal. But there was also a light shining in her eyes, and he decided right then that he would do anything to keep it there.

————

The next morning, Nesta was in the kitchen of the main house just after sunrise. She couldn’t sleep, especially once she had planned out her agenda before she went to bed the night before. She would work on landscaping, planting flowers and cleaning off the B&B sign out front. She also wanted to put in a front porch swing. She was hoping Cassian would help her with that part, although he had been working on the new stables lately.

First thing first, though, was breakfast. Nesta loved any excuse to try out the new kitchen, even if it was technically meant to be for preparing food for guests. Although, until the grand opening and guests began to come again, Nesta would take full advantage of it, cooking for herself. And, maybe, the ranch hand.

She hadn’t seen him yet that morning, even having awoken so early.

It occurred to her that she didn’t know what he liked, whether he was a fan of sweet or savory, how he liked his eggs. Then she remembered that he could loosely be described as a human garbage disposal and would probably eat anything that was put in front of him.

She threw together a few breakfast sandwiches, poured a fresh cup of coffee in her travel mug, and set out for the front yard.

The sun had been up for nearly a full hour and Nesta had a pile of weeds in the grass and dirt caked under her nails when she finally heard footsteps through the pasture. But they weren’t the heavy steps she was used to hearing from Cassian. No, these footsteps were light and quick.

And they were coming right for her.

She turned just in time for Beau to barrel into her and knock her from where she was perched on her knees.

She laughed as the over-excitable puppy licked her and nuzzled into her neck. She scratched behind his ears.

“Good morning, boy.”

He licked her face in response, tail wagging wildly.

“Alright, alright,” a deep voice said, coming up beside them, “Down, boy.”

Beau did as he was instructed, hurrying to Cassian’s feet and sitting. Cassian held out a hand, which Nesta humbly accepted. After she was pulled to her feet, she chuckled. “No offense, but you look like shit.”

He did, too. Cassian looked completely exhausted, eyes heavy, skin pale. “Oh, I’m offended.”

“How many times did you puke this morning?” Nesta asked, trying not to grin.

Cassian groaned, then yawned. “Serves me right. I know better than to drink that much before an early morning.”

“Isn’t every morning an early morning for you?” Nesta asked, and it was obvious how amused she was. “And I’m pretty sure I’ve seen you highly intoxicated on more than one occasion.”

Cassian reached out and shoved her gently in the shoulder. “Be nice.”

Nesta laughed, shaking her head as she picked her travel mug off the ground. “Here, coffee.”

He sniffed it before putting it to his mouth as if he didn’t quite believe her. He took a drink and sighed. “How did you know I like my coffee black?”

Nesta shrugged. “Lucky guess. Are you hungry?”

He glanced at his watch. “No, but I know I need to eat, or I’ll be puking all over the western pasture later. But I need to head into town and pick up a few things. I don’t have time to cook. I’ve wasted enough time this morning with my head in the toilet.”

“Bacon or sausage?” Nesta asked, walking to the picnic basket beneath the tree. “Or both?”

“Both?” Cassian asked, not trying to hide the suspicion in his voice.

She reached into the basket and pulled out two sandwiches. “I hope you don’t mind, but I didn’t feel like waiting to eat.”

Cassian took the two sandwiches she held in her outstretched hand. “You...made me breakfast?”

Nesta nodded, not expecting the soft tone of his voice, the sincere surprise he felt at having someone do something for him. “You said you’re going into town? Any chance you need to stop at the hardware store? I was hoping to pick out some paint colors and maybe even start on the flower beds since it’s so nice out.”

“I can,” Cassian said, opening the wrapped sandwich and taking a bite. He looked impressed. “Fuck, that’s good.”

Nesta snorted. “Why is everyone so surprised after they take the first bite of something I make? Feyre nearly kissed me after I cooked her a simple pasta dish.”

Cassian grinned, taking another bite. “Maybe we’re just surprised something so delicious could come from someone so…”

“Perfect and polite?” Nesta implied.

He laughed, quietly, as he swallowed. “Yeah, sure, perfect and polite. My words, exactly.”

Now it was his turn to be shoved.

“I’ll pull the truck around,” Cassian said, walking away, backwards as he grinned at Nesta. “Come on, Beau.”

The pup jumped up from the spot where he was sprawled out on top of the soft green grass and followed Cassian around the side of the house. Nesta brushed away the sweat that was glistening on her forehead with the back of her hand. She suddenly wondered what she looked like. She rolled out of bed, brushed her teeth, put her hair in a pony-tail before slipping on shorts and a tank-top, and hauled ass out of the little house out back. But then, she felt ridiculous. She wasn’t trying to impress him, anyway.

She remembered the makeup and hair products she’d left in the master bath when she was getting ready to go out. The same night she’d seen Cassian in nothing more than a little blue towel. The same night she and Cassian had nearly…

She shook her head and ran up the porch stairs and into the house, wondering how long she had before he made his way back up to the main house.

———

Cassian stopped the old truck in front of the house, cutting the engine and silencing the deafening roar of the idle.

Nesta was nowhere to be seen. The picnic basket was still under the tree and her cup of coffee was on the porch rail where it’d been when he walked up.

“Nesta?” He called, looking towards her house, down the dirt road.

When there was no answer, he climbed the porch steps two at a time and opened the front door. He said her name again and waited. “Nesta?”

No answer, but there was a creak from the second story.

With a sigh, he took to the stairs. “If you’re upstairs, please be decent, because I don’t need you yelling at me again for being inappropriate!”

Nothing.

On the second floor landing, Cassian thumped down the hallway, glancing into her old bedroom as he passed. She wasn’t there, so he continued on, where the light was coming out of the master bedroom.

He knocked on the door, even though it was wide open. “Nesta?”

“Sorry!” she called, from the bathroom. The door was cracked, and he could see her shadow moving across the tile. “I’ll be right out!”

“You okay?” He asked, not quite moving away from the door to give her privacy, but still half worried about her. She sounded...frantic.

“Yeah, I just...need a minute.” She didn’t offer any other information.

He gave a couple of light raps on the door. “Alright, well, I’ll be in the truck. Lock up on your way out, yeah?”

She poked her head out and he could see that a chunky braid held most of her hair off her face. “I can handle it,” she laughed.

He looked at the makeup covering her freckles. “Are you putting makeup on to work in the yard?

A look of guilt crossed her face. “Maybe.” He tried not to smile, but clearly, he failed as she said, “I’m liable to run into people I haven’t seen in ten years! I can’t go out looking like this.”

“Like what?” He chuckled. “Beautiful?”

The words hung in the air around them.

Cass mumbled, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to- Fuck.”

But Nesta was smiling, softly. “It’s okay. I can take a compliment from time to time.” She trailed back into the bathroom, out of sight. “Just don’t make a habit of it.”

Cassian chuckled. “Alright. Well, take your time. I’ll be with Beau in the truck.”

She said nothing else as Cassian made his way back out of the house. The word had slipped out. Beautiful. He couldn’t help it, though. She was beautiful. It was his first thought when he’d come up on her, knees in the dirt, pulling out weeds, sweating, her hair up.

Beautiful.

Natural.

Sure, she was sexy as hell all dolled up, but Cassian liked her that way. Natural. Even so, he had to keep such thoughts to himself. He couldn’t risk anything that would piss her off again, especially when they had begun to get along so well.

Had started to become friends.

Less than five minutes later, Nesta was pulling the door shut behind her and rounding the truck to the passenger side. She pulled the door open to find Beau sitting in the seat.

Cassian whistled, which usually would spur the pup into motion, but instead he looked back at her and whined, before looking back at Cass. “I’m not making you get out, you big dummy. I just need you to scoot over.” He sighed and pulled the dog onto the middle seat, and Nesta hopped up into the cab. Beau laid down and rested his head on her leg, his whiskers tickling her skin where it skimmed her thigh. She gently pet his soft head and smiled.

“Not taking the fancy truck today?” She asked, after they’d pulled off of the property and were headed into town. The windows were rolled down and the brisk morning air felt amazing on her face.

“We’re working today. This,” he said, affectionately patting the dash, “is a working truck. That’s a play truck. We can’t drive that today.”

Nesta blinked. “A play truck?”

“Yeah,” he said. “Work and play stay separate. Besides, I can’t get my play truck all muddy and shit.”

Nesta huffed a laugh and shook her head. “You’re so weird.”

“I’m not the one who put on makeup to do yard work,” Cassian muttered.

Nesta was watching him, eyes narrowed. “At least Beau is on my side. Aren’t you, boy?”

Beau’s tail started wagging, hitting Cassian against his thigh. Nesta laughed, rubbing Beau’s belly.

“Well,” Cassian sighed, “at least we had a good run, Beau. I see you’ve found a new favorite.”

As if he was confirming what was just said, Beau began to lick Nesta’s leg.

She pet his head and he stopped, looking up at her. His tongue was hanging out of the side of his mouth and Nesta couldn’t help but lean down and give him a kiss on the top of his head. She caught Cassian watching her when she looked back over. “Confession time,” she announced.

Cassian’s brows were raised. “Okay?”

She sighed. “I love dogs, but they’re just...messy.”

“Messy?” He asked.

“Yes, messy. They slobber, like to play in mud, which they then track into the house. Dogs are...a handful.”

He looked at her and then back out the windshield. “Oh gods, no. Don’t tell me.” Nesta glanced at him and he took a deep breath. “Nesta, are you a cat person?”

She burst out laughing and Beau, startled, sat up and leaned on Cassian across the cab. “And if I am?”

Cassian shook his head and groaned. “That’s it. That’s the deal breaker. I don’t think I can work for you anymore.”

Nesta laughed, reaching out to Beau to scratch his head. “You don’t like cats?”

“Cats don’t like me,” he corrected, remembering when Azriel’s childhood cat jumped on Cassian and attacked his face. After that experience… Cassian had to admit that cats weren’t his favorite.

“Maybe I’ll have to get one,” Nesta said.

Cassian glanced at her through his side eye.

“What?” She asked, smiling. “It’ll stay in my little house and keep the mice away from the B&B.”

“And make a nice snack for this one,” he said, indicating the pup who had resumed his dozing between them as Nesta scratched behind his ears.

“Oh hush, he wouldn’t,” Nesta said, giving him a belly rub. He rolled over and kicked Cassian very close to where it would have hurt.

“Oh, he absolutely would,” Cass said, adjusting himself as they pulled up to a red light. “Cats and dogs, especially the ones like Beau who are bred to still be a little wild, didn’t get their bickering reputation for no reason.”

Even though it was still relatively early, only a few minutes after seven, the city was awake, alive. People walked down the streets, stopping at the stalls and shops that were open this early along the way. The breeze from the Sidra cooled the morning down, but she knew eventually it would heat up.

People called out to Cassian, who’s window was rolled down the whole ride, from everywhere they could: in other cars, on the sidewalks, coming and going from store fronts.

“You know everyone,” Nesta observed.

Cassian waved to an older couple who’d been entering a cafe when they saw him. “I wouldn’t say that I know everyone.”

“Well, it seems like everyone knows you.”

“I get around,” he said, shrugging.

Nesta gave him a look.

Cassian laughed. “Not like that. I’ve waved at at least five elderly women, if I meant sexually, my taste in women is interesting, to say the least.”

“No judgement,” Nesta muttered, and Cassian grinned as he pulled into the parking lot of the hardware store.

“Alright,” he said, pulling into a spot and putting the truck into park. He hopped out and whistled for Beau to follow.

“They let him in?” Nesta asked, following his lead.

“Oh yeah,” Cassian said, hands in his pockets. “He stays close. Most shop owners around here like him more than me.”

Nesta looked over at him as they entered. “Is that so?”

Cassian shrugged. “Went through a shoplifting phase in high school. Some people never forget.”

Nesta rolled her eyes.

They entered the store and Cassian said, “I have to go over to the pro desk, pick up some plans they were drawing up for me. I assume you’re going to be doing some actual shopping?”

“Mostly looking, but certainly not at the pro desk,” she said, laughing. “Do you just want to call me when you’re done?”

He said, “I would do that, but I don’t have your number. I can page you over the loudspeaker like you’re a misbehaving child?”

Nesta rolled her eyes and said, “Give me your phone, you idiot.”

Cassian laughed and handed it over. She input her name and number in his phone and then handed it back after calling herself. When her phone went off in her hand, he took it before she could end the call.

“Hey, that one is mine,” she said, laughing.

“I can’t input my own contact details?” He winked at her, and continued typing. He locked the phone and handed it back as he started walking backwards. “I’ll call you when it’s time to go. Beau!” He whistled and the pup ran right to him, looking up in pure adoration as they headed to the other end of the store.

Nesta made her way to the paint section and looked at the wall of samples. She wanted something light, but something that stuck out, too. The shutters needed a good coat, but Nesta was trying to keep away from the mustard yellow her father had picked out in the late eighties. It was horrid. And she needed something to repaint the B&B sign, which was worn and chipped. Maybe she would paint the front door, too. She may as well, if she was planning on painting the rest.

She gathered multiple shades of blues and reds and yellows before she heard, “Nesta?”

She spun around and froze, unable to form a single thought as Tomas Mandray grinned.

“Shit, it is you,” he laughed, and he gave her a hug, although she was too frozen in place to react. She hadn’t seen him in a few years, but he had been her whole world.

“I didn’t know you were back in town,” he said, standing in the way of the aisle next to her. “Sorry to hear about your dad.”

“Thanks,” she said, finally remembering how to use her words. “And yeah, it was somewhat sudden.”

He plucked one of the paint chips from her hand and held it up, comparing it to what Nesta didn’t know. “Last I knew you were in,” he paused, humming. “Paris? How’s your restaurant doing?”

“Sold it to move home.” She felt like the walls were closing in around her, felt like she was too hot and too cold all at once. She felt like her skin was too tight. She needed to get away, needed to get outside and get some fresh air or she was sure she was going to pass out. “If you’ll excuse me-.”

“I miss your cooking, Nes. I miss you.” He smiled, and though it was handsome, it made her stomach turn. “You should make me dinner sometime, we can catch up on the last few years.”

“I….um….” she hesitated, feeling as if she may pass out. In her back pocket, her phone vibrated, and she quickly pulled it out. Her screen read Sexy Ranch Hand. “Sorry,” she muttered, “I have to….Hello?”

“Hey,” Cassian crooned from the other end. “Where are you?”

“I…” she hesitated, looking back at Tomas, who didn’t take the hint and was standing in the exact same spot, watching her.

But she didn’t have to say anything else, because Beau rounded the corner, coming straight toward Nesta, Cassian right behind. He saw her, looking pale and terrified, no doubt, and his smile faded as he slowly put down his phone.

“I have to go,” Nesta said, looking away from Tomas, but he turned around to meet Cassian’s gaze.

“What do you want, Nazari?” It was practically a snarl.

It took him a moment, but Cassian put his usual smirk back into place. “Nothing. Just came to see if Nesta was ready to go?”

Tomas wheeled around, making Nesta flinch in a way that Cassian didn’t miss. “You’re here with him? Nes, he’s trash.”

She didn’t look Tomas in the eye as she said, “I have to go,” and tried to push past him. He gripped the top of her arm.

Cassian growled, “Take your gods damned hand off of her.”

Nesta’s head shot up at the venom in that usually sarcastic tone. She carefully, but firmly, pulled from his hold, and said, “Goodbye, Tomas.” She walked past Cassian, but he didn’t follow. She breathed, “Cass, please.”

Something shifted in his gaze, and she could tell he really didn’t want to follow, really wanted to stay, really wanted to kick Tomas’s ass right there in the middle of the hardware store, but he didn’t. He listened to Nesta. Nodding subtly, Cassian backed up, keeping his eyes on Tomas’s for one second too long.

“Come on, boy,” he whispered to Beau, who was snarling at Tomas.

The three of them left the store in complete silence. There were already supplies in the back of Cassian’s truck, supplies that looked like they were meant for the stables he’d been working on, per Nesta’s request. He must have put them in before he called Nesta.

Nesta climbed up into the passenger side and Beau must have noticed her discomfort because he laid his fluffy little chin on her lap.

Cassian got behind the wheel and started the engine before asking, quietly, “Are you okay?”

Nesta nodded, unable to trust her words.

“Good,” Cassian whispered. “Sorry my alphahole personality came out.”

Nesta, despite herself, chuckled, but she still didn’t say a word. She hated Tomas, loathed him. He was the one person that she was hoping not to run into when she got back to town.

So, of course, he’d be the first person she’d see.

She was silent on the way home, not a single word or sound from her. She idly scratched Beau’s head while she stared out the window. When they’d been on the road about three minutes, Cassian asked, “Do you want to talk about it?” Nesta simply shook her head. Cassian understood, so instead, he turned the radio on and let the music play.

When they got back to the ranch, Nesta was out of the truck before it was even in park. The paint chips were forgotten on the seat and Cassian let her go, watching as she walked, but not down the hill to her small cabin by the river. He watched as he walked up the stairs and into her childhood home.

#sharacollab #theranchnessian #collab #nessian #fanfic #fanfiction #acotar #acomaf #acowar #acofas #acosf #ranch au #modern au

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chubbyooo · 4 years

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Blurred Lines: Cursed Past Chapter 87 - Echoes of Her Memory

ooo dear I feel evil but ill feel eviler soon Zash has been learning the ways of Magick but Kyradia is in hot pursuit but will her surroundings get the better of her

Terri had never been so bored in her life, she’d been protecting the ship for what felt like a month but was more likely a week, Zash was learning with the sisters and she wasn’t allowed to be there for some reason; she wondered what she’d done Zash had never put her on the sidelines before. Zash had said it was because she wanted the ship to be safe and ready in case the commander caught up again, she knew that made sense but she felt like something was off.

Still she had done as Zash said she had to trust her like she said, she slumped down in her chair her white hair draped over her head she’d already sewed 8 or so scarfs to pass the time but it hadn’t stopped the boredom. Terri was wearing all the scarfs for fun, each a different colour, it was something her and Lusari had done when they were bored at the academy, she felt a sudden twinge of sadness thinking about Lusari had they done the right thing? It didn’t feel like it when Zash was leaving her in the ship and after what the commander had said about admitting flaws, it seemed fairly arbitrary but why would the commander admit to being cruel and trying to be better. She didn’t know who to trust anymore the Jedi looked down on them and she never knew which sith were trustworthy, she’d tried to look up Zash but there wasn’t much about her apart from her ascension to Darth she couldn’t find anything too wrong with her but there was plenty on the commander.

She’d looked it up during the week during the Eternal War there were so many allies she had killed, some she got they messed up, but death? It seemed like too much but then again she’d saved the galaxy right? She didn’t know what to think about the Commander except she wouldn’t stop chasing them. Zash and her history was clearly complicated; she wondered if they could come to some sort of peace but it seemed unlikely with the commanders track record.

She’d thought about a lot of this stuff over the time she was watching the ship, she hadn’t really had a chance to stop and think for a while but it just left her with more worries than answers. She sighed she guessed she had to keep going; she didn’t know how else to honour Lusari and her wishes.

A little later her comm flickered to life and she answered it “Terri come in is everything good on your end?” Terri didn’t even move she’d heard this everyday

She sighed “yeah everythings great here I found a new level of boredom I didn’t know was possible, how’s learning awesome nightsister magic? oh I wish I knew” she’d become increasingly sulky each conversation they had

Zash just sighed “it’s going well I have managed to understand the basic manipulations of Magick, and don’t worry I will teach you at some point” Terri hoped so she wouldn’t mind a little advantage over the rest of the sith

Terri complained “why can’t I just learn it now Zash I’ve been here all week and there’s no sign of any people coming near the ship” she’d asked this before but thought why not maybe Zash would change her mind

Zash exhaled heavily clearly irritated “as I keep telling you with the rate the commander has been catching us she is likely to again and I doubt I can keep fighting all three of them off Terri so we need a quick escape until we’re ready ok” Terri pouted she was so sick of waiting around

Terri folded her arms “why can’t we just make peace with the commander she doesn’t seem so bad she’s trying to be better” Zash tutted shaking her head

She sighed “Terri she is clearly lying to you so she can expose your weakness, you saw what she did on Savereen she’d say anything to get what she wants she certainly did before she trapped me in that prison” she got very stern and serious “she is so bad and she won’t stop but we’re one step ahead right so we can win” Terri shrunk down she felt stupid of course the commander was lying to her

Terri nodded “yeah I guess you’re right I hadn’t considered she was lying about that too sorry, you said I should only trust you I was just frustrated” Zash nodded

She smiled “it’s ok Terri don’t worry it’s fair to be impatient but I have a lot to do so please for me keep it to a minimum” Terri nodded as the comm shut off she felt bad she was being pretty childish Zash was probably a lot more stressed…

Kyradia tapped her foot impatiently as they travelled towards Ragna III even when she’d been in control of their weird dream space Zash had still managed to get inside her head on Savereen, she had to be vigilant and careful she was already vulnerable and she couldn’t let Zash capitalise. Her mentor had been running circles around her like Kyradia hadn’t experienced in years she didn’t get how she kept getting outsmarted, the extreme power Zash had gained from the acolyte had definitely helped but now she wanted more and she wanted the source of Kyradia’s power. She shuddered Zash with that kind of power could do so much damage it certainly wouldn’t benefit anyone, Ashara had mentioned the Mirialan girl and about trying to get through to her. Kyradia knew what that position was like and wouldn’t wish it upon anyone but she could also expose a weakness in Zash, she had definitely told the girl one million lies already and it was going to be hard to untangle them.

She felt a hand on her shoulder as Ashara shook her “Kyradia are you ok you look really anxious” she clearly was worried and Kyradia appreciated that but there was little to be done about it

Kyradia sighed “I am Zash has been playing me like a fool and I’m worried it’s going to get worse and” she took a deep breath “I’m worried I’m gonna make another mistake like Ossus or… you” Ashara’s face softened and she hugged Kyradia

Kyradia fidgeted awkwardly really uncomfortable “we won't let that happen me and Malora will be right beside you I promise just like on Savereen right Malora” Malora was focussing on her device but gave a half assed nod which was about as good as she could’ve hoped for

Kyradia sighed “I know I know but every time I see her she gets to me I don’t know if I trust myself enough to face her, we have to stop her but… it’s getting to me” Ashara let go nodding and continuing to comfort her

She smiled “then let me take some of the burden you know I will I’m with you till the end whether I like it or not” she half laughed followed by a weak smile

Kyradia nodded “thanks Ashara you’re the best friend I could ask for” Ashara gave her a very genuine smile as the planet came into view, Kyradia took a deep breath and she was ready.

They made their way down to the surface but Kyradia couldn’t quite sense Zash she turned to the others “do you sense?-” Malora interrupted still staring at the tracker

She finished Kyradia’s sentence “the potent force energy yes it appears they are not the only force users here” without regard for the other two she walked out to the landing ramp “the nanobots are on the verge of decomposing so we need to find her coordinates soon” Kyradia would never understand the tech speak but Ashara peered over her shoulder

Ashara frowned “this is all we have to go on coordinates?” Malora ignored her as she confirmed the coordinates on her datapad

She turned to Ashara “so do you have a better way of tracking Zash you’ve been hiding from all of us” she frowned the friction between the two was clear

Ashara pouted “no but I’m just being cautious” Malora raised her eyebrow clearly whatever heart to heart they had didn’t stop their squabbling

Malora tutted “ah so you don’t have a plan so how about you trust me and follow me to the large caves to the west which match up perfectly with the last coordinates of the nanobots” Ashara scrunched up her face clearly livid as Malora passed the map to Kyradia

Kyradia had a look at it and she raised her eyebrow “it seems there’s some kind of tribal settlement do you think Zash went there?” Malora nodded as she got out a pair of goggles

She nodded “I believe it’s probable but why I’m not sure I thought she was collecting ingredients” Kyradia had to agree it was a little strange there was one reason she could think of but she’d rather not

Ashara shrugged “maybe the tribe have knowledge of how to collect the next ingredient” Kyradia hoped so as they began to walk

Malora was quick to grab Ashara’s collar as she walked ahead “hey what the Kriff Malora not cool” Malora tutted adjusting her goggles

She took out a small torch and bent down to break a tripwire “you’re welcome” a rope net zipped up in front of them “this area is likely to be trapped you need to be careful Ashara” Kyradia just stayed behind them looking at the sticks and little tribal structures she hated how eerily familiar they were

Ashara pouted “why didn’t you tell me this area was going to be trapped Malora” Kyradia already knew the response

Malora blinked her goggles briefly closing “I thought the goggles made it obvious but more importantly why wouldn’t you have expected traps Ashara you need to take care of yourself” Kyradia rolled her eyes had she and Andronikos ever been like that?

Ashara folded her arms “I’m more proficient in the force ok I’m not extremely spatially aware” Malora seemed to note it down in a datapad

She groaned “fine I will point them out to you and maybe I’ll make you a set of goggles when we get back” Kyradia walked past the two of them they’d be here all day if she let that continue

She rolled her eyes “can you two bicker and make up later we don’t have time for you exchanging gifts” they both looked embarrassed and followed Kyradia forward, the next hour Malora would point out and disable a trap and then move slightly closer to the cave whoever was here didn’t want visitors.

They reached the edge of the forest and Malora held them both back “I sense something strange but my goggles show no sign of a trap” she frowned looking to each of them, Kyradia could also sense something but she wasn’t sure what

Kyradia nodded “I sense it too but it’s not very strong we should be careful” they both nodded and slowly crept forward towards the cliff and the cave entrance around the side, Malora breathed a sigh of relief as nothing went wrong.

Kyradia frowned the area was weirdly flat she wasn’t quite sure what to make of the area it certainly seemed manmade

Ashara smiled “see no need to be so para-” as they spoke suddenly they all felt the ground beneath their feet disappear and they began to tumble down a hole where the floor had been

Kyradia felt herself fall and then slam against the ground she stood up getting her bearings, her eyes widened as she saw bars around her, to her left and right Malora and Ashara were in identical cells and a chamber lit by torches jutted out.

Malora groaned “you just had to say it didn’t you” she stood up as Kyradia looked around the room her eyes wide she recognised this design, the green flames, the tribal walkways with wispy mist underneath

Ashara stumbled up “hey I wasn’t going to anticipate a floor that disappears how did they do that” Kyradia looked back and forth and began to breathe heavily but concentrated and kept her mind on Zash she couldn’t let this get to her

She exhaled “Magick” as she said that two figures came round the corner dressed in those red wrappings that cause Kyradia to twitch nervously

Ashara gasped “Nightsisters” Kyradia wasn’t sure how much she’d told Ashara about the sisters themselves but she’d know about the Wrath at least “We gotta be careful” Kyradia nodded as they arrived

Malora frowned “I thought they were only native to Dathomir” the two reveal their hoods each sporting black hair with a sliver of white through it

The taller one tutted “oh well that’s the idea we’re not exactly an open organisation but you’re special acquisitions apparently” she turned to look at Kyradia “oh wow a Dathomiri Zabrak a rare commodity what did they do to you then” Kyradia twitched as she bit her lip trying to control her emotions

She snarled “don’t you talk to me like that” she concentrated and tried to stride out but slammed into the a green barrier causing her to become very dizzy and groggy as the force energy filled her brain

The sister laughed “Oh I wouldn’t do that this enchantment stops prisoners form being well difficult” Kyradia shook her head she knew this feeling

Ashara rattled the bars “let us out now” she drew her saber and slammed it against the barrier but it merely bounced off

Kyradia tried to get her bearings as the sisters laughed “the Outsider said some trouble would be coming and she also told us to bring the native” the barrier in front of Kyradia disappeared as she tried her best to fight them off before they jabbed something into her neck “I assume that’s you Zabrak, there that should dull your muscles” Kyradia felt as her muscles became extremely lethargic no she had to stop this she couldn’t let them take her not again

Malora snarled at them “you dare take her and I’ll make sure you don’t see the light of day” they grabbed Kyradia’s arms as she struggled to focus she’d fallen right into their trap just because she wanted to ignore the signs of her past her head was so muddled so many bad memories all at once

Ashara called out echoed due to Kyradia’s lethargic state “I promise we’ll get you out of this” Kyradia tried to nod as she felt the sisters drag her out of the chamber, she tried to struggle but her limbs wouldn’t obey she had to concentrate

The sisters seemed to talk as she was dragged but she couldn’t make it out, she felt so overwhelmed but she used that energy and began channeling it into anger and felt her muscles begin to regain some control she just had to be patient.

But still everything she saw reminded her of home, of that, they exited the building they’d been in and entered the walkways, the green mist under the platforms licking and curling around their feet she hated that mist more than anything. She was dragged into a large chamber where a cauldron sat in the middle on one side was a tall older nightsister, her black hair much longer with more white streaks and on the other was Zash smiling like a devil. Nightsisters surrounded them clearly they had a plan and Kyradia could only imagine Zash had her own.

But Kyradia’s eyes were fixed on something else, a table with restraints she felt herself start to breath heavily, her pupils dilated and her fist clenched as she was dragged towards it no no no not again…

Ashara was freaking out unsure what to do as she watched her former master dragged off “Malora we have to find a way out of here right now! The nightsisters are bad I can’t be sure but Kyradia has a lot of bad experiences with them and we can’t let them hurt her” Malora merely nodded and scuffed her shoe.

Ashara didn’t even know what to try she’d never dealt with sorcery like this “how could we have been so stupid Zash is here to learn sith sorcery it’s so her, and we fell right for the trap we should’ve been more careful, I should’ve sensed something” Malora continued silently scuffing her shoe and nodding

Ashara started to hyperventilate “we have to find a way out of here we can’t let anything bad happen I saw her pain I gotta help her I just gotta give her a chance, can you stop JUST SCUFFING YOUR SHOE MALORA WE HAVE TO HELP HER” Malora turned to her clearly agitated

Malora took a deep breath scuffing her shoe once more and a bunch of parts came out of the sole “I am finding a way out I just thought your inane babbling would get in the way” she starts to construct a little box “and it did but I have a solution; you’re welcome so please calm down” Ashara did calm down and take a deep breath

She sighed “sorry it’s just this is bad and it could’ve been avoided I didn’t mean to yell” Malora nodded as the box fit together and she raised it up “so what does your cool little box do” Malora looked at her quizzically

She almost smiled “thanks for asking? Basically this is magic force energy so likely normal force techniques will be useless but a bit of science mixed with the force allows me to collect such energies” she held out the box as it began to absorb the barrier “like so, I keep one on me at all times just in case” Ashara nodded actually very impressed

The barrier disappeared and Malora ignited her saber “and you keep it in your shoe” Malora sliced through the bars and walked over to Ashara’s cell

She frowned “that’s the part you question I will never understand you Jedi” she stood there as Ashara frowned

She pouted “well I don’t know any tech questions” she paused “are you gonna let me out” Malora frowned holding up the box

She stifled a laugh “of course I’m not just going to leave you there you’re still a valuable ally if annoying” Ashara decided to take that as a compliment as she cut through her own bars

She rushed forward “well thanks and we need to hurry if we’re gonna save Kyradia before anything goes wrong” she took Malora’s hand “come on I can turn us invisible” Malora nodded as they set off to save Kyradia but as they got closer they already heard signs of conflict...

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fancifulwritings · 4 years

Text

A Lad Insane

chapter one

The work day had been hectic. It usually was. Today, though, had been especially bad. With the show in town, Adeline had known that it would be like hell on Earth. Thankfully, things had calmed down as the night went on. That hadn’t stopped her last table from keeping her late. It wasn’t their fault she was annoyed with them. Alright, maybe it was a little. Who stayed until almost 11:30 when they closed at ten? What annoyed her the most was that she wasn’t going to get paid anything extra for staying late.

Once everything was all set with them, she went to grab her coat and bag. Just as she was sliding her arm into the sleeve, her boss came around the corner.

“Don’t forget you have the opening shift tomorrow. I expect you here early, it’s gonna be busy. Don’t forget. Don’t show and count yourself dead to me.”

“Of course not, I haven’t missed a shift,” she said with a forced smile. Tomorrow was going to be hell. That she knew. Morning shifts with him were always bad. The girl that was schedule to work with her never showed for anything before noon. That left Addie running around the whole damn place like she had her head chopped off. But, she would deal. There was nothing she could do about it and complaining to him would just cause her a pay cut, at best.

“I should be here fifteen before opening, just to help with everything, if that’s alright.”

“Make it thirty,” he said before walking away. As much as she wanted to scream and yell, she couldn’t. It wasn’t part of who she was. She took what she got and worked with it. Worked out plans to get back at him later, when she didn’t need him. God only knew how many other people had been fired for talking back. This job was the only thing she had. Without it, how would she pay the bills? With it, she was barely making it by.

Once out the door, she felt her mood lighten just a bit. Bad energy hung around that restaurant. That she knew without a doubt. Typically, her walk home didn’t last more than five minutes. It would be a bit longer tonight.

Seeing the concert in town had been was never an option. Even if Adeline hadn’t been working, she didn’t have the money to go. Standing outside the venue, though, was free. No one could stop her from going there. Not that she expected much from this trip.

By now, she expected that he would be long gone. That would depend on what time the concert got out. There was a nagging voice in the back of her head. If she didn’t go, she never would know if she had stood a chance. There was nothing stopping her feet from guiding there. Couldn’t stop the hope in her heart that perhaps she could have this one thing.

Even just a fleeting glimpse of Bowie would be enough for her. Just enough to tide her over and keep moving. Somehow, somewhere along the way, he really had turned into her whole life. It wasn’t healthy. He was the one thing that had never hurt her. Never could hurt her. There was just something so inspiring about him, about all of it. Any spare money she managed to pull together went to whatever record he had out. It was what kept her going. Even a slight chance of seeing him from a distance would give her reason to keep going. To keep trying to get ahead.

Adeline walked in complete silence, clutching her bag close to her. The trouble she had received over it was insane. Everything her boss did was over the top. Sure, it was a bit bigger than the one she normally brought. But, the hell he had put her through was too much. He demanded to know what was in it that required such a big bag.

A record, her beloved copy of Space Oddity, was safely hidden in it. If he had found out… She knew what he would do. On the off chance Bowie was still here, and she somehow managed to get close to him, she wanted him to sign it. It was all she had wanted since she got it. That wasn’t something she could explain to her boss. A lame excuse had left her mouth, something that implied she was on her period. The restaurant, thankfully, had picked up by then and he didn’t want to hear any more of it. She’d never been so grateful for work getting busy.

A small group of people had gathered around the door. Adeline had expected as much. Well, really, she had expected much more. She would have been a fool to think she was the only one to come up with this. It gave her a bit of hope, at least. If there were still people here, perhaps he hadn’t left yet?

She looked down at her watch and noted it was just a little past 11:30. Another half an hour and then she would leave. If he hadn’t come out by midnight, he was already gone or wasn’t coming out for much too long. She didn’t have all the time in the world to just sit around and wait. Her early shift the next morning couldn’t be jeopardized like that. This alone was risky enough. Six o’clock came much too quickly.

Time seemed to pass slowly as she stood there. The minutes creeped by. It was silent, aside for the occasional lighting of a cigarette. Every second that passed had her stomach sinking a little bit lower. He was already gone. Perhaps he was going to go out a different door. Any way this could go, she wasn’t going to meet him. She was a fool for thinking that this might even work.

Just as her watched showed midnight, the side door opened wide. It felt almost like some sort of cue. Or, even a reward for waiting it out. There was a large crowd of people, all woman circling one lone figure. One of the woman looked familiar, Addie realized she was the woman his wife, having seen her in some magazine.

The lone figure in the center of it was all distinct. The bright, long hair might have been cut short now, but the flaming orange hair stuck out just as much. Addie moved forward a bit, compelled by the energy he was putting out. Everyone around her did as well, like they had all rehearsed this.

She felt as if her chances of being noticed were slim. There was nothing special about her. Of course, she had hoped to catch his attention. Alas, there was already that horde of girls surrounding him. One dangled loosely on his arm. She doubted he might even look in her direction.

Fate, it seemed, had different ideas. Just as he began to walk past where she stood, he stopped dead in his tracks. One girl bumped right into him. He didn’t even seem to notice. It was all surreal to watch. For Adeline, it felt like the world was slowing down just a bit as he did. He was so close. She never imagined she might be within arm’s reach of him.

“You,” he pointed at her, “come here love.” His voice was soft as he spoke. Immediately, Adeline felt sucked into him. The world around them disappeared.

Time froze. Her whole body froze. Was he talking directly to her? That seemed impossible. It seemed like some sort of dream. She looked behind her before pointing a finger up toward herself.

“Yes, you love,” he said with a nod. There was a determined look in his eyes. What for, Addie wasn’t sure. Compared to the girls already around him, and on him, she definitely didn’t think herself special. She rarely did. But, she was more than willing to find out.

Her feet, thankfully, decided to work as she took a few steps closer to him. She reached into her bag and grabbed the album. The smile on his face never left. It was pleasant enough. The look in his eyes had different intentions. Adeline ignored that, for now. He shook the girl on his arm off as he moved to face her completely.

“Would you mind signing this for me?” She held it out. The cover was a bit ratty and beat it. It had obviously seen better days. Adeline just couldn’t afford to get a new one. On top of the fact that it just wouldn’t feel right to replace a perfectly working one.

“I didn’t know they still made this,” he said with a laugh. “Do you have a pen darling?”

Adeline searched through her bad. “I’ve had it since it came out, actually,” she mumbled.

“A fan from the beginning, then, I see. Perhaps the most precious type of fan.” He chuckled a bit as he watched her. She had to fight the urge to dump out her whole bag on the concrete. Had she really forgotten one?

“No, I’m afraid I don’t have one,” she mumbled. She felt like a fool.

“I haven’t one on me either, love,” At that, the girl that he had pushed away moved a bit closer. Clearly, she was trying to claim what she had already gotten. “But I do believe that I have at least one back at my hotel, if you wouldn’t mind accompanying me.”

Adeline felt a sinking pit in her stomach. Any moment with David would be worth it. But, she couldn’t do that. Mostly because she wasn’t that kind of girl. She hadn’t even really been kissed before! That level of confidence didn’t exist in her. She didn’t mean anything against the girls he already had with him. God, she envied them. To be so sure of themselves? She would kill for that kind of confidence.

That wasn’t even her main reason for freezing. The lie she had given her boss wasn’t really a lie. It was, in fact, that time of the month, having just started that morning. No doubt he would be disgusted by the very idea of it. Who wouldn’t be?

“Oh, no, I really, I really can’t,” she mumbled before reaching to take her album back.

“Darling, I insist you come back with me. I promise it’ll be worth your time, and I’ll make sure to sign the album,” he said softly. With the record still in one hand, he reached out to touch her wrist with the other. He just smiled and Addie wanted to melt.

There was something about him that was so hard to say no to. “I really, I really just can’t,” she mumbled. She was racking her brain for an excuse as to why. Telling her hero that she was on her period would be humiliating. It just wasn’t an option. Was there really any other way out of this, though? She sighed and looked up, straight into his eyes.

“I’m, umm, afraid that it’s, that week, you know?” She said, trying to look away. Something about his eyes wouldn’t allow her to look away. He held her full attention. She could feel the heat on her cheeks as she talked. On David’s face, she could almost swear she saw a smile tug at his lips.

A soft laugh left those same lips. She assumed it was at her. Of course he would laugh at that. She couldn’t even bring herself to say the proper words, let alone sleep with him. She should have never come.

“That hardly matters at all, darling. I must simply have you with me tonight,” he smiled and moved his hand up from her wrist to her elbow. “Come with me,” he said.

She couldn’t believe his words. It couldn’t be that simple. It just couldn’t be. There was no way he could be serious. Was this a joke? Was this a dream?

“If that’s the only reason you’re saying no, my darling, then worry not. Come with me. I promise you’ll enjoy the night. If you don’t wish to for other reasons, I understand,” he said. His hand moved from her elbow to grab her hand. “Say yes.”

His hand holding hers sent a tingle up her spine. If something so simple caused this, what might spending any time with him do? Her brain said no, she couldn’t do that. “Oh, uh, yes,” she squeaked, voice full of surprise. Her heart, it seemed, had a mind of its own like it always did. It wouldn’t allow for her to say no. He grinned and wrapped an arm around her shoulders.

“I’m glad, my dear. Right this way.” David said before sweeping her away into a darkened car.

#david bowie fanfiction #david bowie fanfic #a lad insane

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tenroseforeverandever · 5 years

Text

Labels, Laws, and Lips

Characters: Tenth Doctor; Rose Tyler

Rating: General

Tags: Fluff; Fluff without Plot; Plot, What Plot?, Minor Hurt/Comfort; Romance; Humour; WARNING! Pears! Lots of mention of pears!

Summary: The Doctor finds something in his galley, but is it really the nightmare he believes it to be?

Notes: Another story written for a prompt from long, long, long ago… In April 2018, @doctorroseprompts offered a drabble prompt, vile. The drabble got away from me, so I figured if I used another drabble prompt from that month, flail, I could justify the excess wordage. LOL Well, the story finally came in at just over 1600 words after I finally figured out an ending. So, nothing remotely resembling a drabble…

Oh, and a word of warning… if you’re looking for plot, you won’t find it here.

A whole heap of thanks, as always, to my two lovely betas, @rose--nebula and mrsbertucci. Their ideas, support, and wonderful advice made this story oh-so much better. I have fiddled with it since they last looked, so all mistakes are mine.

Read also at: AO3; FF; Teaspoon

LABELS, LAWS, AND LIPS

“What the hell is this?” His brows furrowed, the Doctor pulled a jar from the back of the fridge.

Rose toed the tip of her trainer against the galley floor. She squinted at the jar in his hand, feigning ignorance. “I dunno…” She shrugged, softening her eyes and offering him a pretty smile. “Looks like jam.”

“Oh, you don’t fool me, Rose Tyler! Looking at me like that, all…” his hand flapped in wild circles as he searched for the correct word, “…all innocence and, weeell… like that!”

Rose stepped toward him, making a show of carefully reading the label. “Pro…bu…floo…thig Pear Jam, it says.”

“Pear jam, Rose! PEAR jam!” He set the jar down with a thump, screwing up his face in revulsion as a dollop that had congealed on the side of the jar stuck to his hand.

“I don’t see why you’re so upset. They’re not proper pears, Doctor. They’re Profloo-thingy pears. Completely different thing, yeah?”

“Pear! Pear! That word isn’t just bandied about willy-nilly, you know. In order to call something a pear, it has to actually be a pear! It must be of the Pyrus genus, originating from Earth. In addition–″

“Seems like a lot of fuss over a jar of jam!”

He scowled and raised his voice. “In addition, if it contains any pear – at all – it must be clearly labelled as such.”

Rose rolled her eyes. “Blimey!”

“This is a serious matter.” He sniffed and made a show of straightening his tie. “All sorts of legal mumbo-jumbo surrounding it, specifically to keep people like me safe from accidentally consuming it. Can you just imagine the danger if some unsuspecting soul was to unknowingly eat that vile concoction?”

“Mumbo-jumbo, yeah? Seems right up your alley. Why do I get the feeling you might have been instrumental in getting this particular law passed?”

“Weeell…”

“Ah-ha!”

“I suppose I may have offered my expertise and had a hand in writing up the legal documents. The wording on the labels needed to be precise. It was a matter of self-preservation, really.”

“More like findin’ a way to ruin breakfast for billions of people across the galaxy, when all they wanted was a nice bit of pear jam with their morning toast.”

“Oh, I see. By ‘ruin’ you actually mean ‘saving them from the horrific torture of having their taste buds assailed by a noxious compound.’ I consider it to be an invaluable public service. But I suspect, Rose Tyler, you are trying to deflect the conversation.”

“W’at? You’re the one’s been nattering on about laws and labels and all that.”

“All I’m saying is, what really matters is who brought this onto the TARDIS? Hmmm?” He directed his raised brows at her with a terse nod.

“Why’re you lookin’ at me?”

“Well, I certainly didn’t put it here. So that leaves…” He gestured in her direction with a flip of his hand.

“What? Me? Look at it! It was shoved right at the back, behind all sorts of rubbish. Could have been back there for years, yeah. You’ve traveled with… ya know… others in the past.” She nibbled on her thumb. “Maybe you even bought it yourself, in an earlier body, and just… I dunno… forgot. You are gettin’ on, yeah? Memory slippin’ a bit, there, Doctor?”

He sputtered. “My memory does not slip.”

“If you insist, bu–”

“I, Rose Tyler, am in the prime of my life! And, by the way,” he scoffed, “I would never (I repeat never!) in any body procure a Pyrus preserve. The fact that you could ever suggest such a thing…” his face screwed up again, “…repulsive!”

“So you say…”

“I do. Besides, it looks suspiciously like one of the jars from that vendor stall on Hraxro 4.” He gave the jar a suspicious poke, nudging it along the counter, away from him.

“The one where you were sampling preserves like they were goin’ out of style?”

“The one where you used up nearly half of my virtually unlimited-credit credit stick... apparently with the intention of smuggling this… this abomination onto the TARDIS.”

Rose snatched up the jar. “How d’ya know it’s an abomination? I bet you’ve never even tried it.”

“And I’m not going to!”

“Scared?”

He rolled his eyes. “Please, I’m a Time Lord, Rose.”

Rose grasped the lid of the jar, and looking him directly in the eye, sent the Time Lord a challenging smirk.

“Now, Rose…”

She twisted the lid, loosening it.

“Don’t…” the Doctor ran a hand through his hair, “don’t do that…”

“What? This?” She lifted the lid off the jar, exposing the chartreuse-coloured contents.

He yelped, springing backward as she tipped the jar toward him to prove to him how innocuous the jam was.

She laughed. “Ya plum!”

“Plum! Plum would be fine. A plum is a perfectly lovely fruit. That…” he took another step back, “…that is… weeell… it’s not!”

Rose pursued him, thrusting the jar toward him, laughing breathlessly, and relentlessly pushing into his personal space as he floundered backward. He bumped against the breakfast table, arms and legs flailing as he struggled to keep his balance.

“Mind the…” Her amusement quickly turned to alarm. “Oh my God!” She slapped the jam jar onto the table and grabbed the Doctor’s hands to steady him. She coaxed him into one of the chairs, then settled onto his lap, facing him, her legs dangling on either side of his. She stroked the hair by his temple. “You all right, mate?”

“I’m fine!” he snapped, shoving her hand away and turning his face from her, a great, big, Time Lord pout quivering over his lips.

“I’m sorry, Doctor.” Rose caught him by the chin and gently turned his head back to face her. “I was jus’ takin’ the mick, ya plonker. If I’d realized how violently you’d respond… I mean, you didn’t seem to mind before, yeah…” She let her words trail away, not sure he would be in the mood for such drastic revelations. She ran her finger over the stress-dimple that had formed in his cheek.

He harrumphed, but she could feel his tension slowly easing.

She shook her head with a fond smile. “So, I guess even Time Lords get scared sometimes, yeah?”

“S’pose so,” he muttered, wrapping his arms around Rose’s waist, pulling her closer against him, and she laid her head on his shoulder. “Hold on,” he suddenly stiffened again, pushing her back to look her in the eye, “what did you mean when you said, ‘you didn’t seem to mind before…’”

“Nothin’ really. Doesn’t matter. Can we jus’ cuddle? It was nice, that.” She offered him a soft, flirty smile.

He wasn’t taking the bait. “Out with it! What did you mean by ‘before’?”

She sighed and ran a hand through her hair. Then she reached back and grabbed the open jar of jam, and ignoring the Doctor’s gasp of horror, she stuck her finger into the jam and swirled it around. The Doctor’s legs jittered underneath her, his flight response kicking in again.

“Remember, the other night, there, after we got back from rescuing all those Vriomri herdbeasts from the mud pits?”

He nodded, his feet tapping against the floor. His eyes were fixed on her finger, stirring the jam. Rose could see it was taking all his willpower to not throw her off his lap and run. She would make it quick, then, put him out of his misery as fast as possible.

“We were filthy, yeah, so we each went and showered, and then you met me here, in the galley.”

“Ah, yes,” he relaxed again, his attention drawn from the jam by his memory, “you smelled so good. So Rose-y and lovely. A relief, I’ll tell you, after smelling nothing but that foul muck for ages.”

“We snogged, remember?”

“Oh, yes! How could I forget. A brilliant snog, that! And you had that brilliant new lip balm. That was the icing on the perfectly delicious Rose-cake!” He beamed a toothy grin at her.

She removed her finger from the jam and brought it to her lips.

“NO!” The lovely smile dropped from his face. “Oh, don’t do that! No, no, no, no, no! Here I was reliving a lovely memory and...”

Rose made a show of seductively sucking the confection from her finger. Then, she wound her arms around his neck and leaned her forehead against his, their breaths and his whimpers of trepidation mingling between them. His hearts crashed against her through their layers of clothes and she didn’t doubt arousal was to blame as much as fear.

She closed in on his mouth, their noses bumping awkwardly. His hands trembled at her waist, grasping her tighter.

“Jus’ think of it as an adventure, Doctor.” She carded her fingers through the soft hair at the back of his head, and after a moment, she felt him relaxing into her touch.

“Weeell,” he drew her against him, his words ghosting over her lips, “when you put it like that… Who am I to say no to an adventure?”

“Exactly! But, getting back to what I meant when I said, ‘before’, I have a confession to make...” Before he could respond, she quickly closed the remaining space between them and captured his lips with her own Probufloothig Pear Jam-coated ones, murmuring into the kiss, “It wasn’t lip balm.”

#doctorroseprompts #ficandchips #fluff #fluff without plot #plot what plot #minor hurt/comfort #romance #humour #tenroseforeverandever's fic

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thesoundofnat · 6 years

Text

Five Times Steve Worried About Tony's Safety

Tony/Steve

Summary: ...and one time Tony asked him to.

[Read it on AO3]

Words: 3 427

If Tony had been stupid enough to do this without a helmet of some sort, he would've tasted both blood and gravel right now. Maybe spit out a couple of teeth and spend a day smiling all tight lipped to hide the gap before getting it fixed. Possibly get a concussion. Fortunately he'd realized early on that he was most likely better off staying alive if he wanted to do this and get some sort of positive result.

Hence, getting knocked out of the sky to the concrete probably looked worse than it was. To others it seemed like a fatal fall. To him it was simply a matter of getting up and shaking it off.

He groaned as voices filled his ears, the coms going crazy with questions of his well being.

"Stark, are you all right?"

"Do you copy?"

"Holy shit, are you okay?!"

"I'm fine," he choked out. "Just got the wind knocked out of me, but I'm fine."

He sat up, shook his head and gazed out over the battleground, aka some street in New York that a lunatic with a cape and a laser had decided to attack. The others were still trying to take him down, and his coms had gone blissfully silent once he'd reassured them. He heaved himself up, regaining his breath quickly, and made a move to go join them. That's when he saw him.

Tony knew Steve was fast. Had practically seen him run the length of a football field in seconds. Therefore, he wasn't surprised when he saw him running in the speed of light over the battleground, but he was extremely surprised to realize he was rushing toward him.

"Steve, what-" he started, but when Captain fucking America came running that quickly with no sign of stopping you sort of forgot how to use your words correctly. They were both damn lucky that Steve stopped just in time.

"Are you okay?" he demanded, grabbing for the head of the suit in a attempt to cradle his face. "I saw you fall."

Tony didn't shrug him off. "I said I was all right."

"It looked bad, Tony."

"The suit helped."

Steve didn't seem to be listening. "I forbid you from ever flying that high again."

"What, and never be able to be of any help ever? I know what I'm doing, Steve."

"I know but- God, just- just don't scare me like that again."

Had this been different Tony would've leaned in to kiss him, but his suit and the villain still trying to destroy the city were in the way, so he only gave Steve's hand a squeeze. "Let's talk about this later."

Steve nodded. "Please be careful."

"You too. Don't think I don't know what a sacrificing bastard you can be."

Steve laughed. "Says the man who flew into space."

"Uh, guys," Natasha's voice suddenly said. "You're cute and all, but a little help here?"

"Right," they said, and Tony was off, making sure to not get knocked down again. A worried Steve might be amusing, but Tony didn't like being the cause of his terror. Even though he totally had the situation under control.

This wasn't the first time something had exploded in his lab, but it had been ages since he'd been experimenting enough for it to be a big one. In fact, he couldn't actually remember it occurring since he moved into the Tower, which was why he wasn't too surprised when his fellow team members came barging into his workshop a couple of minutes later.

"Sorry," he said before they could demand answers. "I swear it was an accident, but we're all fine. Well, except for the suit I was working on. Teleportation is still off the table, apparently."

"Jesus Christ, Stark," Clint said. "I thought I'd find your burning corpse or something."

"That's not funny," Steve snapped.

"Did I say it was?"

"Tony, be honest. Are you sure you're okay?"

Tony blinked at Steve and slowly turned in a circle. "Not a scratch, but feel free to mourn my suit."

"Forget the suit," Steve said, his voice hard. "For fuck's sake, can you at least wear something to protect you in case things like that happen?"

Tony frowned. "And limit my mobility?"

"For your safety? Yes."

"Steve-"

"Tony, you could've died."

"But I didn't."

"No, but I'm not waiting around for it to happen."

"I'll program something. A shield of some sort that'll get activated during emergencies. Okay?"

Steve sighed, slowly and loudly, and nodded. "Okay."

"Now get out of my lab and let me work."

Galas had become significantly more boring since he’d stopped drinking, but had improved a lot since his fellow Avengers had started accompanying him to them. He stood in the corner watching Clint attempt to uphold a conversation with a man who looked like he'd rather be anywhere but there while Nat snickered at him behind them. Thor was surrounded by so many people trying to talk to him Tony almost felt bad for him, but he looked content nevertheless, especially since he'd swooped in to save Bruce from standing awkwardly by himself and had therefore forced him into the group of people inadvertently. It was kind of funny.

Steve bumped their shoulders together, looking more amused now that they were both lowkey hiding from attention. "They're doing all right, don't you think?"

"Wait until Nat decides to join Clint's convo to scare the man half to death. Then we'll talk all right."

Steve barked out a laugh. "I can see it before me already."

"His widened gaze."

"Her lethal smile."

"Barton smirking beside her."

"That guys has it coming. He'd being incredibly rude right now."

They watched him check his watch for the umpteenth time, barely acknowledging Clint's words. They could tell Natasha was merely seconds away from stepping in, her amusement slowly slipping.

Tony shook his head. "You'd think people had learnt to treat superheroes and super spies better by now."

Steve's lips twitched. "They probably don't know what Nat can do. Or Clint, for that matter."

"They always underestimate Barton."

A tray with cups filled with a rosy pink liquid was shoved in their faces, and Steve declined it for both of them before Tony could even react.

"Don't you think it's time to start heading home?" he asked as the waiter walked away, and Tony checked his watch.

"Hm. Yeah. It's acceptable to leave now. Let me go ask the others real quickly."

If Tony had had any doubts about their eagerness to leave this gala, their sighs of relief would've been sufficient to convince him. He grinned as they walked out together, taking up just enough space to draw people's eyes and make it obvious that they'd stayed for at least a couple of hours. He couldn't wait to reach the tower. Grab some takeout on the way and sit in the kitchen, all of them relaxed finally and bickering about whether it was late enough to tune in for the night or if they could afford to play a game or watch a movie. In the end, the arguments about what movie or what game would take long enough that at least one of them would start yawning.

Tony might've felt a twinge of worry once over how well he knew them and their routines, but he'd accepted this weird and dysfunctional family dynamics of theirs ages ago, so he just called for their cars as they all lingered by the sidewalk.

"Hey, Happy," he said as he and Steve jumped into their shared car. "You think we can stop by that sushi place and get some grub?"

"Sure thing, boss," Happy said, starting the car smoothly and joining the traffic, which was surprisingly slow at this time of night.

Tony rubbed his palms together. "Great. I'm starving."

Steve nudged his side. "You did great in there."

Tony raised an eyebrow. "You expected me to run amok and make a fool out of myself?"

Steve rolled his eyes. "No, but it was as if you weren't even struggling. I'm proud of you."

"It's easier because you were there," he admitted. "All of you. If anything it was enough entertainment for a while." He pulled at his tie, glancing at the window to find they hadn't moved much at all. "Oh boy, this is gonna take a minute, isn't it?"

"Maybe we should call ahead to make sure they don't close the kitchen before we get there," Steve suggested.

"I don't want to keep them working overtime. God knows how much overtime. We'll see if luck is on our side when we get there."

"Why's it moving so slowly though?" Steve leaned forward, peeking around Happy at the abundance of cars in front of them. "I get that it's Saturday night, but this is ridiculous."

Tony's phone started blowing up then, and Tony answered Natasha's call distractedly. "No, I cannot do anything about the traffic. Wait, what?"

Steve watched him attentively as Tony listened to Nat, his eyes narrowing the longer she spoke. "Well, shit."

"What's going on?"

"Yeah, I'll check in on it. One moment." Tony hung up, turning to Steve with a sigh. "Someone attempted to blow up the Tower."

"Someone- what?"

"That's why it's slow. The police has shut down several streets."

"Holy shit."

"I mean, they didn't succeed. Of course they didn't. The Tower isn't fragile by any means."

"Still. Imagine if we'd been there."

"Something tells me they never intended for us to be there. Imagine how quickly we would've kicked their ass. Now we don't even know who to suspect."

Steve rubbed his neck. "Someone could've gotten hurt."

"That's always a daily risk though, isn't it?"

Steve suddenly turned to fully face him. "You could've gotten hurt."

Tony tilted his head. "So could've you."

"Without your suit you're entirely vulnerable."

"So's Barton and Romanoff. Why are you so caught up on this?"

"Because I care about you."

"Steve, I'm perfectly capable of taking care of myself."

The atmosphere got tense after that, Steve's eyebrows knitted tightly together as Tony picked up his phone again to make some phone calls. Happy was entirely silent, slowly inching them closer to the Tower, sushi forgotten.

The Tower was still up and standing when they finally reached it, the countless police cars around it being the only indication that something had happened. The others were already there when Steve and Tony got out of the car, and Tony had to spend an excruciating hour speaking to several people before they could venture inside, his good spirits from before long gone.

"They aimed for your workshop," Steve said as they entered their bedroom. "Meaning they knew where you work and were specifically targeting you."

Tony sunk down on the bed, exhausted. "Yes, it seems to be an attack on my person this particular time, but I'm tired of you treating me like something fragile."

"You know I’m not stopping."

"I do, but you know you take things too far sometimes, right?"

"What's so wrong with caring?"

"Nothing's wrong with caring, but as you can see I'm perfectly fine and don't need you to fret over me all night, unless fretting involves something more physical."

Steve didn't even acknowledge his suggestion. "I'm not gonna apologize for worrying."

"Well, then I guess we have a long night ahead of us, don't we?"

Steve huffed, turning around and entering the bathroom as Tony started undressing. He hated going to bed like this, but Steve kept underestimating him, and it was starting to piss him off.

Steve took so long to come out that Tony passed out without him.

"I'm sorry," they said at the same time, Steve having entered the kitchen after his morning run to find Tony nursing his coffee alone. Apparently Tony hadn't been the only one drowning in guilt.

"I know why you worry," Tony continued while Steve shut his mouth in surprise. "Trust me, I do, and I don't blame you. I would do the same if our roles were switched."

"I know I go overboard sometimes," Steve said in return. "I know how annoyed I used to get with Bucky's mothering back in the day. I don't mean to crowd you."

"We're both idiots, aren't we?"

"Maybe a little."

"I usually don't mind, but yesterday was intense and it irritated me that you focused so solely on me."

"I'm sorry."

"I just don't know what I'd do if I lost you."

Tony held out his hand, and Steve crossed the room quickly. "I hope you never get to find out."

Steve cupped his face, thumbs caressing his cheeks. "I'd kiss you if I didn't stink of sweat right now."

"You know I don't mind you sweaty." Tony wagged his eyebrows.

Steve laughed. "You're ridiculous. Come here."

They locked lips, the kiss lasting longer than it usually would in a public space like the kitchen table, and when Steve finally pulled away Tony was feeling a bit breathless. "How about we go make up in the bedroom? I can pretend to still be angry to build up anticipation."

Steve hummed. "That doesn't sound too bad actually."

"When have I ever had a bad idea?"

"Well-"

"Don't answer that."

They smiled, stupidly giddy as Tony downed the last of his coffee. They were just about to get up when Tony's phone rang.

He grimaced. "It's probably about the explosion. One sec."

Steve took a step back. "You take care of it. I'll go shower."

"I'll join you later."

"You better."

Tony did get to join him, but it was cut short and he had to - grumpily - get in a car and drive to the S.H.I.E.L.D. headquarters. Why he was the only one taking care of this was beyond him. And unfair.

They ended up with a list of suspects, none of which Tony had ever heard of before, but he somewhat trusted S.H.I.E.L.D. to know what they were doing, so he took the names and returned to the Tower to discuss it with the others. Get them to pull some of their weight at least.

He accidentally took the elevator to his workshop, his hand having clicked on the wrong button automatically. He paused as the door opened, shrugged, and went to tinker around with something. He probably needed it.

"Have you been here this whole time?"

Tony hadn't heard Steve come in, but he heard the somewhat controlled panic in his voice and turned the music down quickly, facing him. "Honey."

"Don't you honey me- shit, I'm sorry."

"Hey, now."

"It's just that you never came back and Fury said you'd left hours ago and since we know someone is targeting you-"

"You got worried. I should've told you I was back. I'm sorry."

Steve deflated, facing the ceiling for a second. "Just- please leave a note or something next time. Or send a text. God, I thought phones would make life easier."

"I didn't mean to even come in here, I promise."

"Okay."

"I'm sorry for worrying you. Again."

"It's okay."

"I know it's not. Come here."

Their night was significantly different from the previous one, and this time Tony felt bad for entirely different reasons.

Tony hadn't expected Steve to hear his pained cry all the way from wherever the hell he'd been chilling in the Tower and come running into the kitchen ready to kill whomever had hurt him. Unfortunately the culprit turned out to be a hot pan that Tony was frying some vegetables in, so it was rather anticlimactic to see the murderous rage roll off of his form so quickly.

Tony held up his hand sheepishly. "I burned myself."

"I can see that."

"No need to worry."

"Of course not." Steve grabbed his wrist gently and steered him to the sink. "Hold this under cold water."

Tony complied. "You know, I think I have enough wits to have thought to do that on my own."

"I don't doubt that."

"But your mama senses were going crazy, huh?"

"Always."

"I feel like I'll trip on a carpet and you'll die of a heart attack."

"Don't trip then."

"I'll try my hardest, love of mine."

Steve rolled his eyes and grabbed the wooden spoon Tony had been using to stir the vegetables before they burned. "Do we need to put something on the burn?"

"Nah, I think it's fine," Tony replied, checking it briefly before putting his finger back under the water. "Some would call me lucky."

"I wouldn't say the amount of danger and trouble you end up in means you're lucky."

"Shh. Let me dream, won't you?"

"You're ridiculous."

"But you love me anyway," Tony said, grinning.

Steve's face softened. "But I love you anyway."

And one time Tony asked him to.

The meeting was cancelled just after Tony stepped out of the shower, much to his dismay. They could at least have called him ten minutes prior when he was still snuggled up in bed and wishing Steve would skip his morning run for once. At least he'd be able to fall back asleep.

He sighed, torn between getting dressed and remaining naked to curl up under the covers. If Steve had been here the choice would've been easy.

Despite the shower, he ended up at the gym - after texting Steve about the cancelation - and took his time to warm up. He suddenly had about three extra hours, after all, and he was planning on making the most of them. A thorough workout was long overdue.

Until he tripped and twisted his fucking ankle like an amateur.

"Shit!" he cried out, landing on his side. His foot started aching immediately, and he grabbed for it, trying to determine the severity of the injury. Definitely twisted, but he reckoned the healing process wouldn't be too long. The swelling would probably bother him for a while, but he'd had way worse injuries.

Still, it didn't stop him from cursing, remaining on the floor for a moment as the shock of the ridiculous fall wore off. How he felt worse tripping in the gym than being knocked out of the sky was almost hilarious.

He tried to heave himself off of the floor, but found it hard since he couldn't support his weight on his right foot. This wasn't good. Like, at all. It was pretty much the exact opposite.

"At least I can fly," he muttered to himself. "JARVIS, is Steve back?"

"Mr Rogers just arrived, sir."

"Has he hit the showers yet?"

"No, sir."

"Tell him to come to the gym. Alone."

Steve had that familiar look of worry on his face when he entered a moment later, but this time Tony reckoned it was justifiable. Tony had practically asked him to worry.

"I tripped," he said sheepishly. "Can't really get up unless I want to make it worse. Help?"

"Of course."

"Feel free to laugh."

"I don't think it's funny."

"At least you have reason to worry now. Apparently I can't even jog without putting myself at risk."

Steve leaned down and grabbed Tony's wrists, hoisting him up gently and easily. "Another activity I won't let you do on your own."

"Ah, a joke. So you think it's a little funny?"

"Shut up. Can you stand?"

"Barely."

"Walk?"

"Let me- ah. No. Not really. Not right now."

"Okay, I'll carry you."

"My knight in shining armor."

"You asked me here."

"I needed my knight."

"I'm just glad you didn't insist on doing this yourself."

Steve carried Tony to the elevator, stopping briefly to grab a first aid kit, before continuing toward their bedroom to take care of Tony's ankle. Tony let him channel his inner nurse without comment, hissing when it hurt and laying as still as possible while Steve worked. He had to admit it felt quite nice to be taken care of, even though he was in pain.

"Thank you," he said when Steve was done. "For always caring about my well being. Even when I find it annoying."

Steve snorted, but Tony could see his eyes softening. "Don't put pressure on this for a few days, okay?" He didn't acknowledge Tony's comment, but Tony knew he appreciated it.

Tony grabbed his hand. "The rest of me is just fine."

Steve hummed and allowed himself to be pulled onto the bed. "Should I do a proper check up to make sure?"

"You know what, Steve? I think that's an excellent idea."

#stony #superhusbands #stony fic #superhusbands fic #stony angst #angst #mine #nat writes #five times steve worried about tony's safety

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fadingcoast · 6 years

Text

Death of the Lie || Chapter 8: Alfheim

AUTHORS: @fandom-and-feminism & @fadingcoast

Summary: Odin and his daughter Hela are the perfect conquerors of the universe. The nine realms fall one after the other into their clutch. After Odin takes a second wife and has a son with her, he doesn't need Hela anymore. Hela abandons her father and ends up marrying Laufey, a sworn enemy of the Aesir people. Not long after, she becomes pregnant with Laufey's child. Odin cannot let that son be born, but against all odds, the boy survives. Odin is forced to bring him back to Asgard to be raised as his own until he could make further use of him. The half-Jotun-half-Aesir boy grows up to look and act a lot like his mother, which disturbs Odin, and makes him treat the boy horribly. Odin's lies are deep and complex, but one day the boy will find out the truth about everything he is.

PAIRING: None RATING: Teen

MASTERLIST

Taglist is open!

@igotloki @xalgaliareptx @wolfpawn @fairlightswiftly @christy-winchester @silverhart93

Chapter 8: Alfheim

Once Loki recovered from the initial shock of seeing the palace in Alfheim’s capital, he looked around slowly to gain some sense of the land. Princess Sigyn politely gave him time to take it in, and she watched him in understanding silence, mildly amused by his bewildered expression.

Loki had never seen anything like it in his life, not even on his expeditions to other realms. Where Asgard was a monument to its conquests, covered in glittering (and stolen) gold and a city built on flattened land, Alfheim’s palace and rural sprawl were built into the land, working with its natural flora and topography to inspire architecture that looked as natural in the environment as the trees and mountains.

Thin pillars and a concave sloped roof as white and polished as bone sloped up to a grand spire in the center of the main chamber of the palace, the covered walkways circling around it boasting centuries-old stained glass; Loki could imagine the beautiful colors the glass would cast into the throne room when the sun was high. The stone walkway he and Sigyn had followed from the Bifrost landing site extended to the front door of the palace, forming more intricate patterns made of small and large stones the closer the pathway came to the palace itself. Loki pushed one of the stones beneath his leather boot and could feel how perfectly smooth it was, worn down like cobblestones by the thousands of travelers that came through here over the years.

Turning on his heels, Loki looked out to each side of the palace, taking special notice of the bridges that had been painstakingly fashioned over the process of what must have been centuries, out of the roots of the trees that grew in the wide river that cut through the land. The air was thick with the sound of the river’s gently churning waters and the calls of the native insects and fauna that lived in the surrounding forest. This close to the water, Loki noticed a considerable reduction in the ambient temperature which made his breath condense just a bit in the midday air; it was a welcome change after spending centuries in Asgard’s warmer climate. He suspected that the coming summer would be the mildest he had ever experienced, and perhaps he would be able to tolerate being outdoors. The thought made him smile.

Sigyn cleared her throat quietly. “It’s beautiful, isn’t it?”

Loki blinked, bringing his focus back to the matter at hand. “My apologies,” he murmured, distracted. “It’s just...wow.” He chuckled, chastising himself for gawking like a fool in front of the Princess.

“Yeah, we get that a lot,” she said, smiling softly. “But there’s plenty of time to see the grounds and the Sanctum later. For now we need to go in and see my father, and get you settled in before the festival.” Sigyn gestured with her head toward the palace doors and they moved on. As the pair approached, the dozen or so guards, some armed with longbows and others with spears as tall as they were, stood at attention until they saw the Princess, then they bowed low, and two opened the double doors for them.

Loki could hardly believe his eyes when they entered the palace - he had predicted accurately that the sun streaming through the painted glass windows turned light to art on the wooden floors and stone walls of the foyer and throne room. On the far end sat three thrones of equal size, fashioned out of sun-bleached driftwood from Alfheim’s many beaches, situated at the top of a wooden platform with four steps leading up to it.

Seated in the center throne was the King of Alfheim himself. He was pointing around the room with animated excitement, directing the arrangement of decorations and placement of tables and seats for his guests visiting from other realms.

“Loki, my Prince, welcome to my humble Kingdom!” Frèyr stood and came down the steps with his arms held wide, and Sigyn embraced her father in a warm hug. Loki held out his hand in greeting and Frèyr took Loki’s in both of his, squeezing them tight. “I trust there have been no problems thus far?”

“Not at all,” Loki assured him. “Princess Sigyn was excellent company on the trip to the palace, and I was just admiring the architecture and the gardens before we came in.” He smiled and gestured widely around the room. “My home is grand, yes, but its grandeur is seated in its garishness. Asgard’s palace brags of its own wealth and success, but this… Alfheim’s beauty is unrivaled, Your Majesty.”

Frèyr bowed deeply to Loki in gratitude. “You flatter me, my Prince. I insist that you call me Frèyr while you stay with us; I may be the monarch of this realm but you are Prince of all of them. Please, follow me, and Sigyn and I will show you to your quarters so you can freshen up before the festival.”

The King and princess led Loki through an adjoining corridor that stretched before the eye and almost appeared to be endless. Every few meters was another tall window that looked out to the castle grounds. The courtyard outside sloped down into the massive gardens, where the citizens were setting up preparations for the festival. There must have been thousands of people out there, putting up booths and tents, and assembling a large platform not unlike the one that housed the thrones in the front of the castle. Each door they passed Sigyn pointed to and informed Loki what its purpose was - the library is how big?? - and about ten doors down Frèyr stopped to open a door made of a dark wood, its knob a polished gold apple. He stepped aside for Loki to go in.

Loki took a few steps into the room and was rendered temporarily speechless. It was decorated in lavish dark colors - his colors, black and green - and every stick of furniture looked as though its design had been plucked from his own mind. He turned on the spot slowly, admiring the way that even though the room was in dark colors, it was still warm and inviting. As his eyes explored the layout of the room, Loki noticed that the black color wasn’t a solid black; golden vines and leaves were painted everywhere in a way that was pleasing to the eye, trailing up the wall and draping on the wooden furniture like natural vines would. The bed was a four-poster with sheer black drapes and soft green bedding, and in the corner next to it was an empty bookshelf that went up to the tall ceiling, and a large desk and comfortable studying chair. A padded bay window looked out to the river, the sound of its gurgling current a continuous and soothing background noise that Loki much preferred over the silence of the castle in Asgard. That window, he guessed, would soon be his favorite reading spot.

“Did… did you put this together for me?” Loki asked quietly.

Frèyr and Sigyn looked to each other and laughed. “Yes,” Frèyr admitted. “When I came back after speaking to you and the King and Queen a few months ago, I wanted to set up a space for you that was based on your style and the way you had already set up your own bedroom in Asgard. We wanted you to feel at home here.” He walked over to where Loki was frozen in the center of the bedroom and placed his hand on Loki’s shoulder. “The thing about this room, which you’ll discover soon enough, is that its design will reflect your needs. It’s complicated magic, a little something that Sigyn’s brilliant mother put together when she was young. Before we came in here it looked just like your old room, and I guess it knows now that you needed something that didn’t remind you of home. Was it right?”

Loki lowered his eyes to the floor, embarrassment coloring his cheeks. “I suppose it was,” he confessed. It wasn’t that he missed Asgard, exactly, it was just that he had never been away without his brother at the very least, and he thought that if this room still looked like his old one it would have been hard for him to adjust.

Sigyn, ever intuitive, decided to break the silence. “Father, why don’t we let Loki show us his skill? He informed me that he was going to use his magic to transport his things here all at once so he didn’t have to carry anything.”

Frèyr looked impressed. “That would be delightful to witness! I was wondering why you didn’t have any luggage. Go ahead, Your Majesty.”

Loki blinked, momentarily stunned. He swallowed hard and nodded, taking a deep breath to focus. It was then that Loki felt the omnipresent thrum of magic that flowed through this realm like a heartbeat. He was able to gather his seidr to his hands more quickly and powerfully than usual, and when he waved his hand it took just a few seconds for his belongings to appear in the middle of the room in a flash of green. Loki was surprised to hear Frèyr and Sigyn applauding him. He turned to face them and they both wore wide smiles. Frèyr gave him a hug and clapped him on the back, and Loki couldn’t help but feel the warmth of pride blooming in his chest.

“Well done, Loki,” Frèyr praised. “I’m sure you’ll wow the scholars and professors when you audition to get into the Sanctum!”

“Thank you, you are too kind,” Loki said modestly. He was used to receiving praise from his mother, but all he ever got from his father was indifference, so these compliments were more than he had expected from the simple trick.

“Well, my Prince, we will leave you to your things so you can get settled, and don’t forget that you have a surprise waiting for you on the desk. The festival will kick off in the evening hours, so that will give you time to put your things away and get dressed.” Sigyn clasped her hands in front of her and smiled warmly. “Come, father, let’s go down to the gardens and make sure everything is going as planned.” She reached her hand out to shake Loki’s, then linked her arm with Frèyr’s and they left down the hallway, chatting about that evening’s arrangements.

Loki was left to wonder about the festival itself, whether he would stand out in his black clothes among the commoners dressed in subdued earth tones of light green and beige. He wasn’t even sure what he would have to do, or what the festival would entail. Trying to figure out where to start, he remembered what the Princess had said, that there was a package for him on the desk.

Sure enough, when he walked over to the desk there was a bundle wrapped in brown paper and tied with twine. With fumbling fingers he unwrapped it and was taken back by the contents as he unfolded them and laid them out on the bed. It was a tunic, made of a thick but soft material in a forest green color, with vines and leaves embroidered along the sides up to the shoulders in light beige, and a pair of dark brown linen trousers. Loki assumed this was what he needed to wear for the Equinox. He left it on the bed for the time being and decided to focus on getting his things put up. Just as he prepared to put his piles of books away, he heard a soft knock at the door.

“Prince Loki?” said a soft female voice from out in the hall.

Loki frowned. He wasn’t expecting anyone else. He opened the door to see a young looking woman with long, dark hair and dark eyes wearing a plain green dress, holding a tray of food in her hands. She barely came up to his chest but she looked up at him with no fear. “My name is Gwyn,” she said, “and I’m going to be your handmaid while you’re here, if it pleases you.”

“Er… it’s lovely to meet you, Gwyn, but I’m alright for now.”

The maid tilted her head at him, confused. “You sure? You’ve got a lot of stuff to put away, I could help you with that. I’m supposed to get you dressed for the Equinox festival.” She gestured to the tray and lifted it for him to see. “And I brought your lunch.”

“Well, I suppose you can bring the tray in and set it down, but I think I can get everything put away on my own.”

“I insist.” Gwyn smiled and pushed past him to come into the room, and she sat the tray on his desk. Loki began to protest again but she held up her hand. “Trust me, Your Majesty, you’ll get this done a lot faster with some help. Besides, if I’m going to be your handmaid, I need to know where your things are so you don’t have to tell me.” She looked around at the dozens of books on the floor and the ornate design of the room. “You’re lucky you’re here, this room has a soul and it will help yours heal,” she said cryptically, looking Loki over as if she knew something he didn’t.

Once Loki conceded to letting Gwyn help him, his room was finished in half the time it would have taken him to do it on his own. He found her to be pleasant company, and her stories of the kingdom’s traditions passed the time comfortably. After he ate his lunch, he joined her in putting away his clothes and books. Loki delighted in how impressed she was by his collection, especially the blank manuscripts he had filled with his own works, as well as incantations and runes he had learned. Just as the first colors of dusk began to touch the horizon, Gwyn put the last book on his shelf.

“There,” she said proudly, and brushed her hands off together. “See? It’s okay to need help around here, Your Majesty.”

Loki smiled at her. He had a feeling that there was a lot more to Gwyn than met the eye. “Thank you for your help,” he said sincerely. “I think it’s time for me to get ready though. You can take the tray and leave me to freshen up and change my clothes.”

“Actually,” Gwyn explained, pointing to his bathroom door, “part of my duty is to make sure you have a bath and that I help you get dressed.”

“You… what?” Loki was astonished; he had not received, nor needed, assistance with bathing or dressing since he was a child. The maids would prepare his bath, and lay out his clothes for him while he was bathing, but there were more important things for Asgard’s maids to do than bathe him.

“I have to help you with your bath, then get you dressed,” she repeated with a matter-of-fact expression. “I’ve been doing the exact same thing with the entire royal family since before the late Queen Iwaldis was a babe in the cradle. It’s nothing, really, and I can show you how everything in the bathroom works.”

“I don’t know, Gwyn, I can manage -”

“I insist.”

Loki had to smile at that. He liked that Gwyn had spirit, and if this was what Alfheim’s maids did, then he wouldn’t protest. It was certainly no burden to him. He nodded, and Gwyn looked pleased with herself.

“I’ll go run the bath water, and you can get your clothes off and put your robe on.”

Gwyn went into the bathroom and shut the door, and Loki did as she asked. He had brought his robe from home, a thick and heavy garment that came down to his knees. He was just getting the strings tied when Gwyn came back out to fetch him. She chuckled at the sight of his pale legs.

“By the Norns, child,” she shrieked jokingly, pretending to shield her eyes. “Thank goodness you’re here, where you can get some sun without roasting to death. Come, the bath is ready.”

His new maid ensured he was comfortable during the bath and Loki was surprised that he did not feel embarrassed once he actually got in the water. He pointed out the oils he wanted in the bath and she added them, and soon Loki was surrounded with the familiar smell of lavender and jasmine as Gwyn began to wash his hair.

Once the bath was over Loki allowed Gwyn to help him dress, and she fussed over his hair like a mother would, combing out all the tangles and working oils into it to make it soft. She tied it up the way the elves did for special occasions like this, into a half ponytail with a braid going down the back. His black boots didn’t quite match the ensemble but they would have to do until he had others made. When she was done, Gwyn stepped back to admire her work and Loki blushed under her maternal scrutiny.

“You’ll blend right in,” she gushed, though Loki didn’t believe her. “I’ll escort you down to the gardens.”

Gwyn was not wrong.

As soon as Loki came to the gardens, he realized that most of the guests were wearing similar colored tunics and robes, all in autumn colors and light textures. All of them sported braids in their hair. Loki smiled and touched his own small braid.

King Frèyr greeted him and, after praising his style and how well he carried his new clothes, proceeded to introduce him to all of Alfheim’s nobility.

Loki felt a bit dizzy, names and faces blending into each other. He nodded politely, shook and kissed hands, exchanged pleasantries effortlessly, as he had been taught most of his life, always keeping in mind that he was an Aesir Prince. It was part of his duty to represent the Royal Family and all of Asgard. Odin had made sure Loki knew the obligations of his station before he left. But there was a lot to take in, and Loki realized he probably wouldn’t remember most of these names come tomorrow. He did his best to be courteous and attentive to each of them.

The festival itself was exciting and colorful. Loki watched as the citizens performed choreographed dances, enacted beautifully written plays, and cheered on the children in their games. Many were dressed in vibrant costumes portraying the Old Gods. The booths sold every kind of food and craft that the heart desired. It was both exhilarating and exhausting for Loki, who had little experience interacting with the common people of his own realm, but he knew it was a good learning experience for him.

He was relieved when the guests of honor gathered in the throne room and the feast finally began. All the guests took seats at the tables in the main chamber, and the place was soon filled to the brim with idle chatter and the smell of food. Loki had a place at the King’s table, where the food was served first.

The food was yet another change from Asgard. The Aesir favored red meat, and Loki could not remember a feast where he hadn't seen several boars, goats and even a whole steer being roasted. Here, the food consisted mainly of a wide variety of leaner meats - birds, hares, and fish, which was expected given the rivers and lakes surrounding the area - and so many different vegetables that Loki didn’t know the name of half of them. Thor would probably call all of it grass.

The elven ale was tastier too, not as bitter as the one back home, sort of fruity even, and infused with spices.

Loki ate, drank, laughed, danced! He couldn’t even remember the last time he danced!

Everyone was so nice and friendly, and, more than that, they were accepting of who and what he was and treated him as one of their own. The elves were thrilled that an Aesir Prince was a seidr wielder. As Sigyn had said before, they had no time for brute force and boasting of your own strength. It was their honor to have him there, learning an ancient art that had been overlooked by Bor, and Odin after him. They guessed, quite accurately, that Thor would follow a similar path as his forefathers.

“Odin calls seidr a woman’s craft, and he praises bloated musculature and heavy weapons,” one of the noblemen said after they had all settled back down at the tables to drink some more, “but I guarantee when faced with a practitioner worth his salt he would be easily bested by the seidr he mocks.” The others laughed merrily at this, and raised their tankards in agreement.

“One can only assume they use such big weapons to compensate for something!” Another round of loud laughter erupted from the table, followed by clanking pints.

King Frèyr winked at Loki, who nearly choked on his ale listening to the conversation.

One of the men turned to Loki. “What about you, my Prince? Do you fall in line with the house of Odin? What is your weapon of choice?” The hall fell into near silence as the nobles awaited his answer.

“Oh, well, as you can see, I’m not physically built for big swords and hammers,” Loki said, slightly embarrassed. “I prefer daggers and knives, mostly.” He put down his pint sheepishly. After a moment he was surprised to hear murmurs of awe from the guests.

“An impressive weapon of choice, if I may say so, Your Majesty,” an older nobleman spoke up from the opposite end of the long table. “It takes a practitioner of true skill to wield both his magic and a melee weapon at the same time. Most choose to use longbows, if any weapon at all aside from seidr and wit.” Affirmative laughter rippled across the tables, and the man took a deep sip from his pint, wiping the foam from his beard. “To fight with daggers and knives - that takes strength, agility, strategy, and split-second reaction time. You’re just beginning to learn your craft, and you can already conjure from thousands of miles away. That, my Prince, is the mark of a man who will someday be a true King.”

This wasn’t the reaction Loki had expected. The hall erupted with agreements, men raising their tankards and repeating hear, hear. Loki could feel his face getting warm, and he found himself lost for words. They truly believed in him, as a person, as a wielder of seidr, as a future King, and they barely knew him. His head swam with a mix of emotions and ale. It almost felt like a dream, like he was going to wake in his old bed soon, back in Asgard.

Frèyr stood and raised his own cup high. “To our Prince, who will one day be the first man of magic to sit on the throne of Asgard in over ten thousand years! To Prince Loki!”

Prince Loki! The toast echoed through the hall as the guests drained their tankards and passed around more ale in massive flagons.

It was well after midnight when the revelry died down and the guests began to leave. Loki was exhausted, but he realized that it was the kind of content exhaustion that followed a day of excitement and new experiences. Once he was excused to retire to his new bedroom, he was glad to be able to undress, take his hair down, and fall into bed in nothing but his undergarments.

Loki closed his eyes and allowed himself to smile into his pillow. He began to laugh as he relived the incredible and eventful day, and soon his stomach ached from laughing and he felt tears gathering in his eyes. Sighing with contentment, he sank down in the soft pillows and wrapped himself up in the thick blanket. Outside his window he could hear the gurgling of the river and the chirps of nocturnal insects, the lullaby of the land.

That night as he drifted off to sleep, and for the first time in his life, Loki felt he could be truly happy.

<< Chapter 7 – Chapter 9 >>

#Loki #Loki (marvel)#Loki Friggason #Loki Laufeyson #Loki Helason #loki fanfic #loki fanfiction #loki fiction #Hela (marvel)#odin's a+ parenting #Thor #thor fanfiction #avengers fanfiction #Collab Fanfic #collab #Death Of The Lie #DOTL

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allivegottodoislove · 6 years

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A Lad Insane

i’ve begun writing a bowie fic and this is the first chapter. i had every intention of not posting this anytime soon, but i’m afraid the next chapter of tsrts isn’t quite done yet (i promise it will be by next wednesday) so i hope you all enjoy this instead!

Once everything was all set with them, she went to grab her coat and bag. Just as she was sliding her arm into the sleeve, her boss came around the corner.

“Don’t forget you have the opening shift tomorrow. I expect you here early, it’s gonna be busy. Don’t forget. Don’t show and count yourself dead to me.”

“I should be here fifteen before opening, just to help with everything, if that’s alright.”

A record, her beloved copy of Space Oddity, was safely hidden in it. If he had found out… She knew what he would do. On the off chance Bowie was still here, and she somehow managed to get close to him, she wanted him to sign it. It was all she had wanted since he got it. That wasn’t something she could explain to her boss. A lame excuse had left her mouth, something that implied she was on her period. The restaurant, thankfully, had picked up by then and he didn’t want to hear any more of it. She’d never been so grateful for work getting busy.

She looked down at her watch and noted it was just a little past 11;30. Another half an hour and then she would leave. If he hadn’t come out by midnight, he was already gone or wasn’t coming out for much too long. She didn’t have all the time in the world to just sit around and wait. Her early shift the next morning couldn’t be jeopardized like that. This alone was risky enough. Six o’clock came much too quickly.

Just as her watched showed midnight, the side door opened wide. It felt almost like some sort of cue. Or, even a reward for waiting it out. There was a large crowd of people, all woman circling one lone figure. One of the woman looked familiar, Addie recognizing his wife from some magazine she had seen.

The lone figure in the center of it was all distinct. The bright, long hair might have been cut short now, but the flaming orange hair suck out just as much. Addie moved forward a bit, compelled by the energy he was putting out. Everyone around her did as well, like they had all rehearsed this.

She felt as if her chances of being noticed were slim. There was nothing special about her. Of course, she had hoped to catch is attention. Alas, there was already that horde of girls surrounding him. One dangled loosely on his arm. She doubted he might even look in her direction.