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louiseleblancdiggory · 3 years

Text

Speedy one night stand

Ok, so this is an old scene that i never posted because I never thought it was good enough, but since I wanted to post smth before ‘Tis the Damn Season, here it goes! I’m sorry for any typos, it’s 3 am and I don’t have the patience to proof read rn. There are mentions of a car accident but I swear it is not a sad or angsty scene. It’s bad and not at all a believable situation, but I hope it’s ok enough to be mildly enjoyable!

Aelin was having a spectacular day.

She had woken up around six, laying near the hottest man to ever walk on this Earth. In the previous night, she had drank enough to practically guarantee her a bitch hangover, but apparently her beautiful, silver-haired stranger had fucked it right out of her. A few times.

Not so proudly, Aelin sneaked out of his house without making a single sound. Maybe she should have stayed, maybe asked for his name. But she was also almost sure she had given him her number yesterday, and so if he wanted to continue things, he could call her. If not… Well, it had been a fun night.

Understatement of the fucking century.

And thanks to her stranger, once she got home, Aelin felt energized and inspired enough to finally give the painting a try.

The painting had become Aelin’s nightmare for the past year and a half. She had the idea, had the ability, but didn’t know how to do it, how to tackle it. She tried a few times every few days, and left the room hating it more and more. The painting started to be a mock to her abilities— she would finish other works, beautiful works, and yet the messy canvas would always stare at her from the corner of the room.

Aelin was mainly a sculptor, not a painter, and so she didn’t even know why it bothered her so much but it did. Oh, it most certainly did.

For the past eighteen months, staring at that taunting canvas was like staring at yourself on the mirror for too long. The vision started to blur, and it didn’t look real, evoked a deep panic.

For the past eighteen months, Aelin hated that fucking painting.

And yet, when she got home earlier, all she could think is that she might be able to finish it. The painting was supposed to be of Oakwald, a beautiful forest that extended for the whole expanse of the west of Terrasen. She hadn’t been at home for so long now, and all she wanted was a painting of how she remembered the forest to be. She wanted to capture its light, its life. She wanted it to look exactly how it was in her memory, but the colors never seemed right. Her fondness of the memory was becoming stained with that stupid canvas.

All she needed was the right palette.

And he had walked in a bar and sat by her side yesterday.

Her stranger was the literal embodiment of her memory, so much so that for a split second, Aelin had thought she had gone officially insane. His silver-grey hair was the exact shade of the sky on the cloudy mornings when she and her dad would go for a walk. Eyes a combination of a few shades of green and small specks of brown that reminded her of how the trees were. His demeanor was cold, and yet Aelin found him somehow so welcoming— just like she felt back at Oakwald, back home.

Her stranger had given her the thing she had needed for the past eighteen months, even if he hadn’t given her even his name.

Aelin was staring proudly at the now finished painting when the phone rang. She was glad her roommate wasn’t at home to witness her staring at the painting for that long like a crazy person, and honestly hoped it was Lysandra calling to ask if she wanted to go out and grab something to eat.

Or maybe it’s your stranger.

Aelin forced herself to shove every single spark of hope down until they were nothing more than cinders. To be honest, Aelin knew that she probably wouldn’t get a call from him. It was his first day in town, they both had been drunk, and, even though the sex had been great, her stranger didn’t seem like the dating type.

At least not the dating type with a woman who left his house unannounced at six in the morning after leaving him with no note other than her number that could potentially be wrong since said woman was already tipsy when she gave it to him.

A fucking shame.

“Hey.” Aelin said, putting the phone to her ear as she looked for her car keys. She wanted to be in the elevator by the time the word “eat” left Lys’s mouth.

“Is this Aelin?” A female voice she had never heard in her life asked, uncertainty and hesitation lacing every word.

Aelin withdrew the phone from her ear and looked at the unknown number.

Aelin rarely gave her phone number to strangers, and lately it had only been to…

Oh fucking shit.

He had a girlfriend?

Fuck fuck fuck.

“Hum, yes?” Aelin sounded as uncertain as the girl. “I’m sorry, but who is this?”

Maybe it wasn’t what she thought. Maybe she was wrong. Maybe—

“Do you know a Rowan?”

Well.

“Maybe?” Aelin wanted to bang her head against a wall. Almost seven months without touching a guy, and the first one in her way back to the land of the social people had a girlfriend. At least she knew his name now. Rowan seemed fitting, matched his appearance somehow. “Silver hair, green eyes, looks really pissed even when he’s sleeping?”

Please say no.

“Oh, yes.” The woman said, sounding… relieved? “I’m doctor Towers, and—“

“Doctor?” Aelin blurted out, all anger and nervousness being substituted for confusion. “Doctor?”

“Yes. Well, actually an intern since I’m still halfway through my first year here and—“

“I swear I mean no offense, but I am a little confused.” Aelin interrupted her after she started mumbling. “You’re Rowan’s girlfriend?”

“No!” The woman shouted loud enough that Aelin had to take the phone from her ear. “Gods, no. I thought you were his girlfriend.”

A moment of silence passed through the two women.

“What the fuck?” Was everything Aelin managed to say. She cleared her throat, mind trying to catch up with what was happening. “Why would you think that?”

“You’re the only contact on his phone.”

“I am?”

“You are.”

“I am.”

“You are.”

“I— Why are you calling me?” Aelin shook her head, her grip on her keys strong enough that started to be painful. She didn’t know if this was some type of joke her friends were pulling on her, or if Rowan was just some sick asshole that was fucking with her now that he had her number but she sure as hell wasn’t enjoying the experience.

“Well, you see.” She cleared her throat, voice tone becoming more serious, more professional. “Rowan was admitted into the Torre’s hospital a few hours ago. He was involved in an accident, and all the emergency contacts we could find are not in town as of now. I know it is not protocol, and I’m breaking so many rules here, but I went through his phone to see if I could find a contact of someone who was around. We didn’t know if his injuries were serious or not, but…”

Doctor Towers didn’t finish the sentence, and dread mixing with some type of anxiety started rolling inside Aelin’s stomach. “But?”

She didn’t respond the question, instead changing the subject. “You’re the only contact, Miss Aelin.”

Aelin slowly sat down, the dead silence of the apartment mixing with the expectant silence from Doctor Towers. She didn’t know the guy, didn’t even know his name until two minutes ago, and yet the image of the painting in the other room kept flashing in her mind, the colors in the canvas mixing with the colors she saw on his face. “I— Is he alive?”

“Yes, yes. He’s in surgery, I believe.” The initial apprehension came back to the woman’s voice. “I don’t know, actually. Again, just an intern. People don’t tell me much here.”

“And I suppose hiding somewhere after stealing a patient’s phone isn’t the best way to pick up on any information they might be sharing in the halls right now.” Aelin said, some amusement for the girl showing through her voice. “Where are you? Storage room?”

“Coma patient room.” Doctor Towers laughed nervously. “I thought I was helping.”

“It’s fine.” Aelin said even though she didn’t feel it.

The line went silent once more, and after a minute, Aelin said. “Well, bye, I guess.”

“Wait.” The doctor’s apprehensive voice sounded again. “Couldn’t you… Can you still come? Even if you’re just his friend?”

Aelin sat frozen on her chair. “I’m not his friend.”

“Oh.” She sounded disappointed. “Ok. Sorry. Have a great night, Miss Aelin.”

Before Aelin could respond, the call was ended.

—————

The first thing Rowan noticed when he opened his eyes was that he was not at the rented apartment he and the rest of his friends had gotten for the summer.

The lights were too white and too artificial, the bed too uncomfortable to be the same one he had slept the previous night.

And there was also the fact it felt as if he had been thrown from the top of a building, broken every single bone in the impact and, somehow, survived.

He tried opening his eyes a little bit more and acute pain shot to his brain.

Unfortunately. Unfortunately survived.

Shit, maybe he was in hell.

“I don’t know if the struggle is amusing or pathetic.” A low and sultry voice sounded from the left corner of the room. “Maybe try not staring directly into the light and then try opening your eyes.”

Rowan turned his head to where the soft voice had come from, pain burning his neck with the movement but he found himself incapable of not looking at her direction. But the woman was right, and Rowan managed to open his eyes enough to see her seating in one of those uncomfortable hospital chairs, legs crossed in front of her and fingers laced on top of her stomach.

Rowan mentally scratched his last thought. If he had actually died, that certainly was tilting a lot more towards heaven than hell even with the killing pain.

“Fuck, I think I died.” Rowan blurted out.

“I’ll pretend you just compared me to an angel, not to the devil.” She said, getting up and walking in his direction. Despite her hurt tone, she was smiling as she approached his bed. “It’s the least you could do after you ruined my perfectly perfect day. I was having a blast, you know?”

Hell, heaven, or Earth— it honestly didn’t fucking matter because the pain was the same, but her voice seemed to soothe his muscled, make the pain secondary to the pleasure of listening to her voice.

“Yeah?” Rowan rasped out, hoping she would continue talking.

“Oh, yeah.” She sat by the edge of the bed, straightening his sheets. The light wasn’t so blinding anymore, and he could see every detail on her face.

Heaven. Definitely heaven.

“I’m an artist, you know. Sculptor mostly, but I’m a decent painter. There’s this painting I’ve been trying to get done for over a year now, and today I did not only make progress I liked, but I also finished it. I thought today was going to be a terrible day, you know? Yesterday I found out my flight back home had been canceled and I would only be able to get another one by the end of summer, so I went to a bar and planned on getting drunk. Today was a day for tears and hangovers.”

“But?” Rowan asked automatically, all too focused on the woman sitting next to him.

She smiled, raising a hand to brush his hair from his face, fingers intertwining with the shoulder-length knots he most certainly had after whatever it was that had happened. She seemed too focused on her hand gently undoing the knots, but thankfully kept talking. “But I met this guy, you know? Definitely not from here, accent gave it away immediately. Also not from where I am from. Just that made him interesting enough. And,” she turned her eyes to him, eyes glinting with mischief. “Very, very fucking hot. That definitely made him even more interesting.”

“What a guy.” Rowan could feel some of the life coming back to his body, and even managed to weakly match the grin she had on her face.

“Oh, yes, what a guy. Fucked the hangover and artistic block right out of me. A hero, if you will.” Her grin extended into a smile, and she shook her head. “So imagine how ruined my day was when I got a call saying my amazing bar guy had been in a car accident.”

Rowan let out a broken laugh, his ribs screaming in pain when he did so. “So irresponsible of him.”

She assented solemnly. “And there I was, hoping he would have called me to go out on a date. I’m not picky but hospital is a huge downgrade from mind blowing sex in his expensive apartment.”

Rowan laughed again, not even caring about the pain. “I’m sure the guy would have asked you if you hand’t left the expensive apartment at the crackass of dawn without telling him.”

“And instead of calling he let his car be smashed by a fucking truck to get my attention? Tsk, tsk, tsk… Maybe I didn’t dodge a bullet with this idiot.”

Rowan’s lips were taken by a grin. “Well it worked, didn’t it?”

“Next time try something a little less dramatic.” She said, eyes narrowing but Rowan could see how she was trying to contain a smile.

“The girl really seemed into dramatics tho. Gave it away last night when she—“

“Since I didn’t know your name until your doctor called me, Rowan, I’ll save you the embarrassment of asking mine.” She interrupted him, slender fingers going from his hair to the top of his lips. “I’m Aelin.”

“Aelin.” He said against the finger sushing him. “May I ask how you got here?”

She blushed a little, taking the finger from his mouth and straightening her spine. “I was the only contact in your list. They called me.”

“Lost my phone in the airport yesterday and had to buy a new one. Still doesn’t explain why you’re here.”

She narrowed her eyes at him, small nose frowning. “You’re very talkative for someone who could barely open his eyes a few minutes ago.”

“Am I?” Rowan said, hoping to push some of her buttons. Consciousness had been coming back slowly, and Rowan certainly remembered every single detail. Remembered being pissed by losing his phone, impatient because he would have to wait two more days for his friends to arrive.

Remembered all the pissy and impatience leaving his body once he sat on the bar by the most beautiful girl he had ever seen. She had been quick-mouthed, with no filter, and absolutely hypnotizing. She wasn’t just fucking beautiful, but also funny, smart, and had the ability to make him forget every single thing that was making him irritated.

And the rest of the night… It was a shame Rowan was bedridden, he certainly wouldn’t mind reenacting last night again.

And again. And again.

And again.

Rowan had wondered earlier if she had been that amazing because he was drunk. The answer was obviously no.

Aelin pursed her lips, red coloring her cheeks. She cleared her throat, rolling her eyes. “The doctor guilty tripped me.”

“Yeah?” Rowan knew he was smiling like an idiot.

“She said you were in surgery and she didn’t know how serious.” Aelin finally looked him straight in the eyes, and Rowan noticed how beautiful hers were. “No one deserves to have no one in this situation. She said your friends were out of town, and the girl sounded desperate enough that it sounded as if you were fucking died. Again, no one deserves to die alone. Specially someone this good in bed.”

It took Rowan a second to understand everything she had just said. When the last sentence finally registered on his brain, Rowan laughed. Aelin shook her head, a small smile appearing again.

“Also, you’re the first guy I slept with in seven months. Letting you die alone seemed like bad luck.”

“I am honored you put so much consideration into coming to stay with me.”

“Shut it.”

“If it makes you feel less embarrassed—“

“I’m not embarrassed.”

“I would have come too. Make sure my best fuck wasn’t dead.”

“Awn, best fuck? You’ll make me tear up like this, Ro. So romantic.” Aelin pretended to clean fake tears the moment the doctor in darker scrubs and a few on lighter ones entered the room.

“Good to see you awake, Mr Whitethorn.” The man smiled at him, checking his charts. “It’s always good to see wives crying of happiness rather than sadness around here.”

“Of course.” Rowan agreed, turning to Aelin and raising an eyebrow.

“They wouldn’t let me stay if I wasn’t family.” She whispered low enough so that only Rowan would hear. Her face slowly broke into a grin, and she winked at him before turning to the doctor. “So he’ll be fine, right, doctor?”

Rowan had to bite his cheeks from laughing at how obviously fake she sounded, but no one other than him noticed. “Yes, yes. Other than a fracture to his right wrist, your husband is completely fine. Some bruising and soreness that painkillers can help, but nothing major. You two are free to enjoy your vacations when he’s discharged tomorrow.”

“Oh, great.” Rowan said, nodding seriously. “My wife here has just informed me that a hospital is no adequate place for a first date.”

All the people in the room laughed, thinking Rowan meant their first date in Antica.

Not their first date ever.

“I’ll leave you two. Anything you need, ask a nurse and they will page me.” The doctor in darker scrubs said, leaving the room with all the ones in lighter scrubs following.

“Where do you live?” Rowan asked the moment the doctor was out.

Aelin turned to him, fingers going back to his silver hair. “Have been living here for the past two years in an art internship. Going back to Orynth, Terrasen by the end of the summer.” She curled a strand around her finger before looking to his face. “You?”

“Have been and will continue to be a very happy resident of Orynth.” Rowan said, a smirk appearing on his lips. “Definitely happier after the summer.”

“Haven’t even asked me out and you’re already thinking about the end of the summer.” Aelin shook her head and clicked her tongue even though she was smiling. “No surprise you got into a car accident, so speedy.”

His smirk grew into a smile. “My dear wife, would you like to go on a date with me?”

She narrowed her eyes, taking her sweet, sweet time to answer. “I’ll think about it.”

“And, seeing how the doctor talked about all my grave injuries—“

“Grave.” She snorted.

“Do I get kisses to feel better?” Rowan’s tone was full of mockery and some laughter.

“If I kiss every place you’re hurting after being hit by a fucking truck, I think we’d be here for a long while.”

“You didn’t complain yesterday.”

Aelin half laughed, half snorted. Rolling her eyes, she bent forward, and even though she was trying very hard not to, Rowan could see the start of a smile just before she pressed her lips against his. They were sweeter and softer than he remembered, and despite the pain on his arms and specially on his right wrist, Rowan raised his hands and put them in her golden strawberry hair.

“One more thing.” He said against her mouth.

“Has anyone ever told you that you ask for too much?” Aelin said impatiently.

“As our situation is already as fucking weird as it’s gonna get—“

“You don’t say!” Aelin said, voice dripping with so much fake surprise Rowan couldn’t stop but smirk up at her.

“As our situation is already as fucking weird as it’s gonna get,” he repeated forcefully, eyes narrowing at her as her smile widened. “Tomorrow, when my friends arrive.”

“Yes?”

“Can you please still pretend you’re my wife?”

Aelin stared at him blankly for a moment before letting out a full, lovely laugh. The bed shook with her laughter, and Rowan joined her— a little weakly due to the pain, but joined her nonetheless. She bent down to kiss him again, nodding as she did so. “Of course. What type of person would I be if I didn’t help such injured person find some happiness in their lives?”

Rowan kissed her back, fingers playing with her hair. “So this means you’ll go out with me?”

“We’ll see.”

@in-love-with-caramel-macchiato @jlinez @courtofjurdan @aelinfeyreeleven945tbln @ladywitchling @lexflame @sleeping-and-books @annejulianneh111 @perseusannabeth @linshryver @mu-si-ca-l @camilamartinezdunne @dank-queen7 @minaidss @starborn-faerie-queen @booksofthemoon @loveofbooksandwine @jesstargaryenqueen @bluejaberry @multifandommessblog @yesdreamblog @superspiritfestival @ireallyshouldsleeprn @woollycat22 @julemmaes @claralady @abookishfreak @faerie-queen-fireheart @morganofthewildfire @queen-of-glass @heirofthenightcourt @booksbqueen @heirofthrnightcourt004 @fromthelibraryofemilyj @rowaelinismyotp

* if your name is in bold i cannot tag you

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trashyslashers · 5 years

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the soulmate AU where everything is B&W until she meet them? please

This is my first time ever writing this AU so I apologize if I did it wrong, or didn’t do a good job! Also, we’re gonna ignore the fact that someone who’s never seen color before probably wouldn’t be able to name colors/tell what they are, shhhh.

Sorry this took so long! I feel like these end vaguely, so feel free to interpret the endings as you like! Or, y’know, if enough people are interested I can do a part two ;)

Freddy’s came out much longer than Mikey boy’s did, sorry about that?!

Michael Myers:

The local news stations had been having a field day with the approaching Halloween; stories and recounts of the murders that happened over a decade ago occupying the majority of the front page of papers and television screens.

While said murders happened well before you were even conceived, you weren’t spared from the storytelling and warnings from adults and the local police station’s PSAs every year as the 31st grew closer. You never paid them much mind, though; the man, Michael, had been caught and had spent pretty much all of your life in a ward somewhere and apart from attempted copycats and teenagers just dicking around, nothing nearly as awful as the massacre in the 70s happened since.

On the night before Halloween, you found yourself opting to walk home from work/school (pick ya poison) as the chill in the air and the decorations that adorned the town were some of your favorite things about the time of year, and you weren’t about to miss out on them. While the atmosphere was peaceful, the streets were surprisingly empty and the absence of many other people combined with the darkening sky left ample room for very subtle feelings of paranoia.

About a block away from your house, the feeling that you were being watched became awfully prominent as you kept on. It was a very subtle, hair-on-end kind of feeling that left you feeling particularly vulnerable, especially considering barely anyone else was out and about.

As your pace quickened, the feeling didn’t relent in the slightest and instead became much more oppressing; seeping into you and you couldn’t shake the feeling that you were being followed as well.

Worried that you were actually being followed, you didn’t want to risk being followed home so you instead took an impromptu turn down another, more decorated street with the hope that it would lose whoever may have been trailing you.

It didn’t. Instead, when you turned around to survey the street behind you, your eyes locked onto the tall, black and white figure that was at the end of the street. It took you a second, but your mind latched on to the fact that the figure had a very uncanny resemblance to, who the news stations sometimes referred to as the Boogieman of Haddonfield, Michael Myers.

That wasn’t what caught your attention the most, though. The sudden brightening of your surroundings as colors, both bright and dark, warm and cool, poured into your vision and left your head spinning with confusion as you stood there, scared out of your wits.

You’ve heard about it happening; referred to simply as the Soulmate Effect, the world’s black and white tones suddenly becoming replaced by bright and vibrant colors, triggered only by meeting your soulmate.

What scared you the most about the situation wasn’t the fact that a serial Killer who was supposed to be incarcerated was following you and now engaging in a staring contest with you, but it was the fact that something that was only supposed to occur upon meeting your soulmate happened the second you and him looked at each other.

Your vision blurred from a combination of the unfamiliar colors, brightness, and shock-induced tears as you turned on your heel and sprinted off down the road; the desire to learn more about your supposed love nonexistent.Your mind ran a million miles a second, and the realization that he most likely experienced and realized the same thing you did left you, for the first time ever, dreading the upcoming holiday.

Freddy Krueger:

The dark orange and corroded red tones were the first thing you saw after your head hit the pillow for the night, and you had about woken yourself up out of pure shock. While dreams typically tended to be fantastical and vivid, even then they obeyed the rule of remaining monotonous shades of black and white and you couldn’t help but be a bit frightened by the sudden change. Said change was supposedly only triggered by coming into contact with your soulmate, and that did absolutely nothing to help your increasing confusion.

The metallic scent of blood mixed with fire came second to the dingy and rusty colors of your surroundings, and you found yourself even more bewildered when you came to the realization that you were in… a boiler room? Never in your life have you been in a boiler room before, and something about the entire situation felt incredibly off. The steam emitted from the pipes along the walls along with the heat from the fire burning in the furnace left your body damp with sweat, and you took a shaky breath and began taking slow steps down the metal catwalk.

The unfamiliar coloring of your surroundings had completely captured your attention and took your focus away from the unusual setting of your dream, but as you crept down the metal flooring you couldn’t help but begin to feel that you weren’t exactly alone. The unease creeping up on you was different from the nightmares you’ve had in the past - it felt much more real, much more heavy - it felt primal, almost.

Your attention was torn from your surroundings when you heard a low, grating, cackle rise up from somewhere behind you, and when you pivoted around your eyes landed on the figure standing at the far end of the corridor you felt your heart sink as it became awfully apparent what was happening.

Spoken in hushed tones by those that believe it and raucous laughs by those that felt it was a load of malarkey, it was told like an urban legend; Fred Krueger, who was a very real serial child murderer years ago, was still feared years later after his death as he supposedly had the ability to come back and torment would-be victims in their dreams. You’d always written it off as nothing. Urban legends were just that - legends - and while they could be entertaining, you knew they held no grounds in reality.

At least, that’s what you thought, up until now. Unless your imagination was feeling particularly creative tonight, it seemed as if you were having a standoff with the, very real, dream demon known as the Springwood Slasher. While you couldn’t find it in you to back away and instead stood there, trembling as your heart pounded, you couldn’t help but take notice of the sly grin he had on his face, becoming much more noticeable as he sauntered towards you, the blades of his glove produced a grating screech as they raked against the metal of the railings.

His sweater. It was tattered and stained with what was undoubtedly blood, but something about the bright combination of the red and green evoked odd feelings deep in you. You were scared, absolutely, but you felt no desire to run away - and even if you did, where would you go? You’d no knowledge of wherever you were, and he’d probably be able to chase you down with ease.

You felt your breath catch in your throat as he came closer to you, your eyes locked onto his right hand, the gloved one, as he slowly made a reach for - your shirt? Not wanting to risk him grabbing and inevitably harming you, you turned back around and took off down the metal path, not bothering to look back as you had no doubt that he was coming after you.

The overwhelming flurry of reds and browns and yellows combined with the unfamiliarity with your surroundings and situation you were in left you disoriented, and you found yourself turning down a dead end corridor. The distant footsteps of Freddy’s echoed closer, and his raucous voice calling your name out left you antsy as you realized you had nowhere to run.

Turned around again, you were able to see that he had caught up to you, and the stride in his step as he closed the gap between the two of you showed that he was much too entertained by the game of cat and mouse you two were apparently playing. You were backed as close to the wall as you could be (any closer would probably burn your skin off), and you closed your eyes as he grew closer.

He had gotten uncomfortably close to you, and as soon as you felt his breath on your face, you’d had enough of the whole situation. Your eyes shot open, and your hand flew over the railing, landing right on one of the hot pipes, the searing pain making its way up your arm. You watched as the colors of the surroundings faded and you felt yourself growing much more fainter, lighter, almost - it was time to wake up. Right now.

And wake up you did. Heaving upwards, you sat up, fully awake in your bed, and your eyes took in the new tones of the room around you; the bright colors of the posters on your wall, the warm yellow of the sun shining through the window. It was beautiful, but you couldn’t find the will in your to care too much about it at the moment. It wasn’t nearly enough to take your mind off of the words that your apparent soulmate had spoken to you right before you woke yourself up.

“Gotcha.”

#request #slasher headcanons #slasher x reader #slashers x reader #michael myers #michael myers x reader #freddy krueger #freddy krueger x reader

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neverendingparable · 5 years

Note

💞

Send 💞 for a awkward kiss // written for that only once previously mentioned AU where Stellan is an intergalatic officer trying and failing to catch the time-and-space criminal Neil de Grammont

The intergalactic prisons were his least favorite place inthe entire Universe. They were as sad as they were dreary, as dreary as theywere disturbing and Stellan hated every corner of the stuffy, foul scented jailcomplex.

This one was particulary nasty.

It was loud too, prisoners yelling, begging, and cursing outguards who gruffly reprimanded them with harsh words or tasers if they got toorowdy.

Honestly, he couldn’t understand why his bosses couldn’tjust send a vehicle in to deliver the newest captive to the better, more securesister system a few galaxies away.

This needs to be apriority! He insisted to a bored guard, who gave Stellan’s capture astoic look like he couldn’t care less.

A newcomer perhaps, who didn’t understand the severity ofthe situation.

Either way it was infuriating - not only was he bringing ina dangerous and intelligent criminal who could easily pick his wayout of a cell block blind if someone wasn’t constantly watching, but everyone’shabits of blowing off the arrest was also undermining Stellan’s hard efforts oftrying to capture the infamous Cornelius de Grammont for these past few months.

During their little cat-and-mouse chase, Stellan became morefamiliar with the pirate’s tactics than he would’ve liked. They were exceedinglycunning - but apparently, as Neil lacked the intimidating vibes of bigger and moresenselessly violent prisoners here, the guards didn’t seem to care much,despite the crimes pinned to his name.

Sure he could just travel on, but it would take far too manyhours to get Neil to the other galaxy. And he was tired, which is why he didn’ttrust himself to fly alone with the pirate. (Not to mention after listening tothe smart-ass ceaselessly mock him the entire flight over, he was ready to dosomething drastic to get him to shut up. All in all, he was tired, pissed, andon edge. Something Neil would use for his advantage)

“I need the strongest cell you have free. We’re goingto be flying in the morning again and I need to put him somewhere safe until then.”Stellan insisted.

The guard grunted and half heartedly turned to check whatplaces were still free. His bored nonchalance and the feeling of Neil smirkingbeside him grated on Stellan’s nerves, but he bit his tongue.

“Floor C Cell 5G.” The guard muttered and slid theofficer a bundle of keys. He then picked up his comic book again and made aneffort to ignore the duo.

“Is it secure enough?” Stellan tried again, andgot another grunt as a reply.

“That sure sounds promising,” Neil taunted, thesmirk unwavering on his face.

“Shut up and get moving.” Stellan jabbed him hard in the sidewith his gun, ushering his captive off to the nearby elevators.

Of all the shittyprison complexes I have to be stuck in, he thought bitterly as they rode upto Floor C in silence.

Well no matter. What’s important is that I finally have him. Let’s hope this shitty place can secure him for afew hours while I get some sleep…..

A creeping dread had crawled up Stellan’s spine and itsettled there comfortably when they entered the cell block Neil was supposed tostay in.

The protections were good, recently upgraded by the GalacticFederal Agencies to enhance security in the cells. The only problem was thatStellan had already placed Neil behind these models once and the pirate got outin under an hour, halfway to another galaxy before Stellan was notified. And hehad just been gone for a cup of coffee then.

He cursed angrily to himself, much to Neil’s amusement, butbefore he could make another comment on Stel’s inevitable failures, the officerhad shoved him in and handcuffed to the set of chains waiting there.

“Ouuch. Hey!”Neil complained, and there was a hint of aggravation in his voice, obviouslytired of being pushed and shoved around.

Stellan couldn’t care less at this point. He was annoyedhimself that he’d have to play babysitter and then risk flying on sleepdeprivation just to get this nuisance to a proper cell.

He sat down on the hard metal stool opposite of the cell sohe could watch Neil. The pirate shifted around, trying to get comfortable inhis terribly uncomfortable position.

Fortunately, he didn’t attempt furtherconversation with Stellan for the time being. Perhaps he felt insulted after beingtossed around like a cheap toy. Not that Stel cared, any minute spentwithout hearing that smug mockery is a minute he could spend in peace.

The time passed by slowly, punctuated with occasionalscreams or bangs from inmates nearby. As far as Stellan was aware, this wasn’ta torture prison, but its inhabitants were incredibly unstable. Prisoners hadto be chained up to avoid hurting themselves or guards. It felt more like acliché mental hospital than a federal jail.

Another reason it was so out of place to be here. Neilwasn’t insane - unstable, yes, but not crazy. Stellan had caught him for shortperiods of time often enough to have sometimes found a high dosis of toxic substancesin his bloodstream.

These were the flipsides to Neil’s smug facades. SidesStellan liked even less than his I-know-things-you-don’tsmirks. Sometimes he seemed exhausted with the world, so bitter and Stellanwould wonder if there was some truth to his story.

He didn’t put it past Neil to come up with a heart wrenchingbackstory just to evoke pity in the people who meant to capture him, but therewere moments when it seemed too real to be a facade.

For the sake of his own sanity, Stellan chose to mark Neilas an extremely good liar and call it done. Maybe he had loved his partner-in-crime, Phobos. Maybe there was more to thewhole story than the police knew - but it wasn’t Stellan’s business. All he hadto do - and wanted to do - was to make the galaxy safer for the innocentcivilians who lived there. And Neil was a threat to that safety, making him fitfor serving time in a cold and smelly cell.

Stellan’s mood brightened a bit when he caught hold of afellow officer via his comms, Franziska Meier, who listened to his dilemma and thenagreed to fly out early in the morning and help Stellan transport Neil off. Atleast then he could catch some shut eye. And four pairs of eyes were betterthan one. Not to mention that Franzi was quite the capable officer, severalyears older than Stellan and with twice as much experience.

The sound of quiet rustling snapped him out of his thoughtsand he looked up. Neil was still behind bars, still tied up, but he wasshifting around.

Suspicious.

“Quiet down over there.” Stellan snapped, placinghis communicator away.

“I can’t help it, Sommers,” was the response.“You try standing here in chains, it’s fucking uncomfortable.”

“It’s nothing to what you’re going to have to enduretomorrow. Maybe if you wouldn’t have threatened the safety of millions ofinnocent people with your time-breaking shenanigans, you wouldn’t be here in anuncomfortable cell.”

Neil was quiet. When Stellan spared a glance in hisdirection, he found the blonde watching him, an unreadable expression on hisface.

“Those millions of innocent people would be deadalready if it weren’t for me.” He said.

Stellan rolled his eyes. “Suuuure. You’re just misunderstood and poor and we’re all evilmonsters for chasing the Anti-Hero™ when he’s just trying to do good.”

“No,” Neil interjected. “You’re justmorons.”

“Whatever. Save your sob stories. You’re going to getwhat you deserve.”

Why did it always come back to these conversations? Did hebelieve his lies so hard or did he consider Stellan for so dumb to actually buythem?

“I’m not lying. Go on, pull out a lie detector,Sommers. See it for yourself.”

“No.”

“You’re afraid of the truth, aren’t you~?” Neilshifted and now he was smirking again, a knowing look on his face.

Stellan wished he could reach through the bars and smack thatlook right off.

“There’s no truth, you’re not a damn victim. You’re a wantedtime-and-space criminal that not only put people’s lives in danger with yourjumping around, you also broke into several top secret bases and stole confidentialinformation-”

Neil snorted.

“-and you have been associated with several Rick Sanchezs,who are hunted just as well. Not to mention your apparent partner-in-crimePhobos.”

“We’re not partners.” The shift was instant, backto that cold tone Neil took on whenever that name was mentioned.

“And yet he seemed to think so,” Stellan shotback. “You two have a history together, that much I know.”

His phone buzzed and he glanced down to see another messagefrom Franziska coming in. Idly, he replied as he continued.

“Dimensions were destroyed because of you. He enslavedpeople and wanted you to be part of his reign. Don’t try to trick me with yourlies, de Grammont. I’m not as gullible as you think.”

“Actually~”

Stellan’s blood ran cold.

“You kinda are. Dummy.”

The voice wasn’t coming from the other side of the room anymore.Too late Stellan realized that Neil’s ‘uncomfortable’ shifting and idle babblewas once again just a distraction tactic while he picked the locks.

Shit.

He could kick himself for being so careless and reached forhis gun at the same time Neil grabbed his phone away from him.

A moment of confusion ensured. Stellan refused to let goinstead of just drawing his weapon and was tugged up with Neil, who at the sametime leaned in to yank the gun away as well.

Their heads collided painfully with each other. Stellan fellforward, trying to grab hold of something and ended up with a fist full ofNeil’s shirt instead.

They tumbled to the floor in a series of curses and onceagain, their heads banged together

The world stood shock still. Stellan lay awkwardly on top ofthe taller man, a fist curled in his clothes. One of Neil’s hands rested on thesmall of his back, the other still reaching for the gun, which lay a few feetaway.

Neither moved for the longest two seconds in theMultiverse.

“…….”

“………………..”

Neil was the first one to move and Stellan followed suit,but he was unarmed and before he could make another lunge for the weapon, hehad gotten a hard knock to his head, making him see stars and forcing him tohis knees.

Once his vision had cleared, the comms had been smashed andNeil was gone, Stellan’s weapons along with him.

Shit, shit, shit!

He struggled to his feet and stumbled out clumsily, yellingthat there was a prisoner free and on the run.

“Shut down all routes immediately!” He shouted tothe baffled guards. But before anyone could move to action, the last glimpsesof long blonde hair disappeared into thin air.

#curiouscompanions #this turned into a mini novel and im sorry #steneil #ok #i forgot the tag #umm #pirate/cop au #space pirate #i might have gotten some things wrong in the phobs-neil story #but yeah stellan believes that neils backstory is a lie #and that he worked with phobos #long post

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