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stellar-constellations · 8 months

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An Alliance (Part 2)

Fem! Spy! (Y/N) x Yuri Briar

Parts: One, current part, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten (to be continued when Spy x Family has more Yuri content!)

(Y/N) is given her own backstory that is important for the story!

The setting for this story is based off West and East Germany's (because Spy x Family is heavily based off Germany in the 1940-1950) laws (or at least replicated to the best of my abilities since it's unknown what time period Spy x Family is exactly in, we'll go with 1950 for the sake of this story).

Historically-accurate women misogyny and mistreatment! Only small comments and historically-accurate laws (replicated to the best of my ability).

The story, plot, and settings might not match up to the Spy x Family manga as it's not completed and the manga is still being crafted.

This series contains spoilers for the manga and anime!

"Don't touch anything, unless you want to be zapped by Westalis lasers." I sarcastically spoke as I opened my apartment door.

The man waltzed into my home and looked around, his hands in his pockets as he observed the place.

"Your place is so..." he paused, looking around, "plain. And boring. And you have no furniture." He admitted honestly.

He wasn't even trying to be mean as he held a honest and slightly concerned expression.

"I'm a spy. I had to move around a lot for my missions." I admitted. "As a spy, I'm always on the move all across Ostania. Sometimes I'm traveling secretly between Ostania and Westalis too." I spoke.

"How do you do that?" he questioned.

"Oh ho ho. Look at you, already trying to put that contract to use. I'm soooo glad you're interested in me—you know, like asking about my favorite color or what genre of movies I like?" I spoke sarcastically, rolling my eyes.

"You're such a doll." He sighed, rolling his eyes too. "Brat..." He murmured quietly.

He followed me to my room as I grabbed the small amount of clothes set out for my everyday convenience as I shoved the clothes into a suitcase.

"Just so you know, I'm not looking for this to be a real thing. When we're in public and at work, we'll act close—but don't expect anything kind of special treatment behind closed doors. Our 'marriage' is just a piece of paper that can easily be destroyed. The only thing that we have in common is work; nothing else." The second-lieutenant spat harshly as he walked closer to me, standing tall as he looked down at me in more ways than one.

For some reason, I felt my heart stab as my stomach felt queasy. My head felt light as I looked up.

"I'm glad we're on the same track. I want nothing to do with you just as you do with me." I stated.

I huffed and took a step to the side to get the second-lieutenant out of my way. I walked to the bathroom and grab my soaps and routine-supplies, ignoring the way my chest felt sunken and my eyes stung.

Why do I feel the need to cry? I thought to myself. That mutt doesn't know what he's talking about. He doesn't know me at all. I rolled my eyes, thinking about how pathetic I was for letting his words get to me like that.

He's the enemy. There's no reason I should grow attached like how he's thinking. I'm not going to submit and prove that he's right!

I softly sighed as I walked back to the bedroom, momentarily stopping to see the man stare at the ceiling bored. On. My. Bed!

Calm down, it's just a bed HQ rented.

Yeah. I just slept on it for two weeks for my mission I finished before getting captured. The Handler momentarily rented this room for me in this apartment so I could have a place to relax as I get through my recent slow-burn mission.

I groaned. I'm gonna kill kill kill KILL KILL THAT MOLE! I screamed loudly inside my head. I HATE THEM FOR PUTTING ME IN THIS STUPID SITUATION!

“Your bed is so uncomfortable. How can you sleep like this?” the man deadpanned.

“That’s not my bed. This is a room I was given from my boss since I had to do a mission here.” I explained, putting my supplies in one of my suitcases and zipping it up.

“What was the mission?” he seemed interested, turning his head to the side so he can face me.

“I had to get some information from city hall. The boss there is a scumbag exchanging some Ostania secrets there.” I explained.

“Huh. I didn’t know about that.” He admitted.

“Well, now that you do, you can tell the Director and have someone new to interrogate tomorrow.” I sighed, sitting down on the un-comfy bed (I hate to admit that he’s right about the bed).

“You didn’t interact with the employees, did you?” he questioned, his voice serious as his eyes dug into me, searching for truth.

“Only those I needed so I could sneak in. About two or three people. But nobody that sparked interest.” I admitted.

“Good, good…” he muttered, his voice and face softening as we stared at each other.

“Why?” I questioned.

“Nothing, I was just curious.” He spoke.

I didn’t believe it, but right now I didn’t care about it as we stared at each other.

He had pretty ruby eyes, ones I was almost envious of. He had dark black hair that matched his eyes perfectly, and his face was both innocent and stern at the same time (how could that be possible?)

I allowed myself to observe his outfit, the causal white shirt and black pants along with black shoes. But I wasn’t the only one taking notes of the enemy. I noticed he was looking at me longer than what should be comfortable.

“What?” I snapped, letting the heat in my face be anger and not something I was…afraid of, I guess you could say.

“You were staring first…” he grumbled.

Douche! I shouted in my head yet sighed.

“Whatever. Let’s go.” I commanded, jumping up from the bed and lecturing myself of my racing heart.

“Don’t boss me around, brat.” He stated, yet sat up nonetheless.

“Don’t call me brat!” I complained as he smirked.

“Sorry, sweetheart.” He teased, smiling.

Now he's using my own words against me? I thought to myself yet smirked, deciding to entertain him.

“It’s alright, darling~” I retorted as his face morphed to disgust.

“Gross! Don’t you ever call me that again!” he complained.

“Then stop calling me brat! And don’t call me sweetheart, I said it first!” I shouted.

“Ugh. Like I’d ever say something so vomit-inducing again. I just wanted to mess with you.” He whined, still acting like he was sick to his stomach.

"Come on! Let’s get a move on. It’s dark and we haven’t ate dinner yet.” I spoke.

“Oh? So I’m the one treating you?” he huffed.

“Your boss never gave me back my belongings. That includes my wallet.” I pointed out, smiling.

“Then you can starve.” He deadpanned.

I huffed and grabbed my two suitcases, walking out of the apartment and to the car as he followed behind me.

“Hurry up! I hate slow walkers!” I complained, waiting for him to unlock the car.

He did, yet immediately locked it once I reached for the door handle.

I glared and waited for him to unlock the door. He sighed and did. I reached for the handle and pulled it, only to find it looked.

“Dude!” I exclaimed, looking up to see him smiling at me, proud in his childish actions.

“Okay okay!” he laughed, then unlocked the door.

I pulled, but for the damn thing to be locked again.

“YOU FELL FOR IT THREE TIMES! AHAHHA!” he laughed boisterously.

“Shut up!” I shouted, ignoring the way I slightly giggled and wore a smile on my face. “Could you please unlock the door, sweetheart?” I teased.

“Ew! Stop it!” he gagged, yet unlocked the door.

I quickly opened the door, causing him to let out an “aw” followed by a “it was fun while it lasted.” I put my suitcases in the backseat and sat in the passenger seat.

“What do you want to eat?” he asked, stepping into the car and putting the keys in, twisting them to start the engine.

“Oh, I thought I was going to starve.” I smiled, watching as he rolled his eyes and huffed.

“This is just one time…” he grumbled. “Now hurry up and choose!” he shouted.

“Don’t pressure me! Then I can’t think!” I shouted back. “I’m fine with anything.”

“Seriously? I just told you to choose! I don’t know what you like!” he complained.

“I’m not picky; besides, you’re paying.” I spoke as he sighed aggressively and backed out of the parking lot.

I looked out the window, watching as we left one of my many—many—temporary homes that the Handler has placed me in before.

I should send a code so the headquarters can decipher my message. What should I tell them? I can’t tell them I’m a double-agent, that’s for sure.

I glanced over at the man, thinking.

I can’t believe I thought this asshole was innocent-looking and hot when I first saw him—he’s just a jerk. What’s his problem anyways? Why’s he hate me so much? Sure, I’m a spy, but I’ve always tried to avoid the conflict between Westalis and Ostania.

A frown made its way to my face as I thought some more.

Can I even be called a spy ever again? I got ratted out and captured. I might never get a mission again if I’m stuck with the Secret Police. My spy days are over.

Surprisingly, it didn’t sound too bad. I was in the spy business for almost a decade. Breaking into homes, deciphering codes, protecting government officials that's killed my family, even going as far as to disarming bombs. Whether I was in the Westalis army, a Westalis spy, or now even Ostania's SSS, I’ll always have the looming threat of dying.

I really wanted to live a peaceful life too, it was the spy business that tracked me down and recruited me when I was ten. How could they manipulate me into this war? I wanted out of it after the military! I whined in my head.

It’s not like I didn’t agree. But I was ten! I didn't understand what being a spy exactly meant. I guess drastic times called for drastic measures, even going as far as to getting little ten-year-olds recruited.

“What’s with that face?” he suddenly spoke up.

“What face?” I questioned.

“The sad face. Your face looks even more ugly like that.” He deadpanned.

“Ugh! You jerk!” I exclaimed, resisting the powerful urge to punch him hard in the arm.

I would’ve, if the sudden thought of him concealed-carrying didn’t immediately cross my mind.

Yeah. He’d shoot me for punching him.

“I was just thinking! Jeez, you’re mean…” I grumbled.

He hummed, a smile on his face. He seems proud to be an asshole. . . We decided to grab quick fast food since there was no point in going anywhere expensive.

He drove to a gated apartment complex for two-income families, entering a passcode.

“Fancy apartment complex.” I commented, looking out the window.

“The job pays well.” He spoke back, driving in and parking somewhere.

He shut the car off and we both opened our doors. I got my luggage as he impatiently waited. We walked to the doors, going into a lobby and to an elevator. He pressed the second button and stuck his hands in his pants pockets. I clutched the handle on the elevator, ignoring the look the man was giving me as I felt my stomach tighten.

“Don’t tell me you’re about to puke.” He groaned. “You got a weak stomach or something?”

“Elevators just make me nauseous.” I admitted. “But I’ll be fine, thank you so much for your concern.” I commented sarcastically.

Elevators remind me of planes, planes remind me of hijacks and crashes. Just the thought of having to be in another plane going down for one of my missions makes me want to vomit. I never want to be above the ocean or ground again.

The doors opened and we walked out of the elevator. We walked a few doors down until we got to the fourth door on the right. He grabbed his keys from his pocket and opened the door.

He silently walked in and I followed, a little unnerved at being inside the enemy's apartment.

It's not like he'd kill me—at least not without getting information out of me. Right?

"Where should I put my stuff?" I questioned.

The man hummed, thinking to himself.

"You can put it in my room, I'd rather not have the living room dirty." He replied.

"Do you have any house rules?" I questioned, taking my shoes off as the man drags his off, standing with perfect balance despite being on one foot.

I hid my amazement from his balance skills as I had hopped on my foot to take my shoes off.

"I don't think I do. I mean like, don't go through my stuff? And don't go out without me. I can't really think of anything unless you do something that I'm not comfortable with, but I'll tell ya." He sighed.

"Okay." I spoke, following him to his room.

He opened the door, allowing me in. I set my suitcases neatly in the corner as the man jumped on his bed, sighing.

If it was my bed, I would've followed and laid down too since I was quite tired with today's events too, but this is the second-lieutenant's bed (who still won't tell me his name). I feel it would be rude lying down on his pretty red bed (I also feel that he will snap at me).

I looked around the room, looking at the pale peach walls. I looked down at the apartment's wooden floor, noticing how clean it is.

He must like his apartment clean. I supposed every likes a clean space to walk in though.

He had very few artworks on the wall, only two paintings. One was of a bright forest and a path. The other was a dark figure on the beach, dancing alone as the sun set behind them. I looked at his expresso drawers, seeing there was two of them. He had a closet I didn't feel like exploring.

Doesn't look very secretive and Secret Police-like. I thought to myself. Well, it does make sense. I hide my spy-gear out of sight too in case the SSS tries to do a secret investigation on me when I'm not at the place I'd be staying at during that time.

"So, what are the sleeping arrangements?" I questioned.

"I don't know..." He muttered, tired.

He's seem to have lost all that spark from earlier. I thought to myself. It's kinda cute how worn out he is.

I smiled, observing him as he threw me a tired glare.

"What?" he questioned.

"Nothing." I spoke, sitting down on the bed yet keeping a good distance. "You said you had an older sister, so where would your guest room be?"

"She'd sleep in my bed and I'd sleep on the couch." He explained. "I would rather have myself sleep on the couch than have my dear sister sleep there—she's family."

"So you can be nice." I hummed.

"What's that supposed to mean?" he huffed, his energy to argue seeming to recharge as he sat up from his bed.

"Oh, don't start getting riled up just yet. I'm just teasing you." I rolled my eyes playfully, smiling as I enjoyed the way his face bloomed into a rose and he stuttered.

"D-don't say it like that! Brat..." he muttered, covering his face with his arm as he coughed out his embarrassment.

"You tired?" I questioned.

"Yeah. But I'm going to wait until you fall asleep." He spoke, sitting up from his bed.

"Okay, creep. You do you I guess, just leave me out of the equation." I giggled as he glared at me.

"Not like that. I meant I'm not planning on waking up to you gone from the apartment and running back to that stupid spy business of yours. The Director would kill me." He huffed.

"You know, I didn't just join them because I felt like it." I huffed, crossing my arms.

"What did you join them for?" he questioned, raising his eyebrow.

"You gotta earn it first." I clicked my tongue, mocking his words from earlier.

We shared a glare before he sighed.

"Fine. I wasn't even that interested anyways." He huffed.

We stayed silent for a bit before he spoke up again.

"You can shower first, I'll wait for you." He explained.

"Oh. Thanks..." I muttered, slightly surprised as I walked to my suitcase and opened it, grabbing clothes and bathing supplies. "I'll be right back." I stated.

He's a stupid jerk, but there's been moments where he's been a little nice. Maybe over time I can crack that shell. I thought to myself before immediately catching myself. Over time? What am I saying? I'm not staying with that jerk forever! No matter how much kinder he gets!

It's not like I'd have a choice either. The Westalis spies would be around searching for me if word gets out that I betrayed them. I shouldn't be the one at fault. It was that mole's fault! That, and they were the one that betrayed the Westalis spies and me! I can't believe the Handler assigned me to show him the ropes when he first came in a couple months ago. I thought he was doing a good job too!

I got dressed into pajamas and walked out of the bathroom. I heard soft snoring and looked to see the man was sleeping, having not moved from the same position I left him in.

He'd be so easy to kill, allowing himself to be in such a vulnerable position while the enemy is in his home. I sighed, not really wanting to wake him up in case he forgets who I am and flips out.

Maybe I can send that message to Westalis. I thought before quickly deciding to cross out that idea.

That'd be a stupid thing to do while I'm in enemy territory. That, and I don't want to cause trouble immediately. I've honestly been wanting to take a break from the spy business for a while, but I was afraid the Handler would kill me (she's not called the Fullmetal Lady for nothing). This will just be a mini-vacation.

I had an intense battle inside my head, wondering if I should take out Flower from my suitcase or not.

If the jerk wakes up, he'll see it and probably tease me forever. I thought, sighing as I looked at the man. Why should I care what he thinks? It's not his bunny!

I huffed and grabbed Flower from my suitcase. She looked at me pitifully with her one eye and hanging loose threads of her pink nose and mouth. She still has a slight lingering smell of ash, but it's barely noticeable now because of all the times I've thrown her in a washer. I walked over to the man and noticed the slight twitch from his left eye as his mouth frowned slightly. His eyes were slightly squinted, and I mentally gasped.

How dare he fake-sleep in front of me?! Does he really not trust me? But it does leave him open for me to mess with him...

"My love, wakey-wakey." I teased, causing him to almost shoot up immediately.

"Don't say that!" he shouted.

"I can't believe you faked sleeping!" I laughed, a disbeliefed-smile on my face.

"I was making sure you wouldn't try running or contacting the Westalis spies!" he exclaimed, trying to justify himself.

"I can't believe you would think that!" I exclaimed.

You were very right, sir. Very right...

"Whatever, just shower so we can go to bed." I sighed.

My face heated up at my wording. If the man noticed, he didn't pay no attention to it as he stood up and walked to the bathroom, suspiciously eyeing me as he closed the bathroom door.

What a pushover. I thought, before sighing and laying down on the bed. Me and the enemy sharing a bed together? I think I'm going to puke.

He didn’t take long, probably rushing to make sure that I wasn’t escaping, before he opened the door and suspiciously looked around the room.

“There’s no traps or bugs.” I rolled my eyes.

“How can I trust you?” he questioned.

“Because I would’ve forgotten them then accidentally set off one of my own traps.” I deadpanned.

He huffed, but didn’t say anything after that, that was until he noticed the bunny.

“…What the hell is that?” he mumbled, making eye contact with Flower’s one eye.

“Don’t say that!” I gasped, covering Flower’s ears. “She’s sensitive about her appearance!”

“She’s…sensitive?” he questioned, an evil smile forming on his face.

“Don’t look at me like that! Flower isn’t just some stuffed bunny, she’s my childhood warrior.”

He smiled more. “S-stuffed…bunny…childhood…warrior!” he started to cackle as I glared at him. “I CAN’T BELIEVE THAT YOU STILL SLEEP WITH STUFFED ANIMALS!”

“Flower is my friend!” I cried out. "She means a lot to me!"

“AHAHAHA! YOU’RE FRIENDS WITH A BUNNY? YOU’RE REALLY THAT PATHETIC?!” he laughed.

I huffed, walking over to him and pushing him onto the bed.

“H-hey!” he stuttered out, his face turning red as he stared up at me.

“Shut up and sleep!” I ordered, walking to the drawer and placed my glasses down (or ignore this part if you don't wear glasses).

I walked to the light switch and turned off the light, then carefully navigated through the dark and felt for the bed. I grabbed the covers and got into said bed. I felt that man’s body but I couldn’t care enough to walk all the way on the other side in the dark—however, he had other plans as he protested.

“Oi! Oi! Stay on your side!” he shouted.

I huffed, ignoring his demands. “I am. Scoot over.”

He groaned yet scooted over, allowing me to steal his side. I clutched Flower to my chest and sighed.

…

“You don’t bring girls often to your apartment, huh?” I questioned, smiling as he shifted in bed, spluttering out nonsense.

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?!” he shouted, offended.

“I mean that your bed is small, so you never thought of sleeping with anyone when you bought it. Sad, sad little virgin.” I teased.

“Shut up! Like anybody would willing sleep with you!” he huffed.

“Ohoho~ well you’re mistaken, sweetheart.” I laughed, causing him to blow up.

“I will suffocate you with this pillow!” he claimed.

“You won’t, you need me.” I smiled.

He stayed quiet before eventually huffing, “Whatever.”

“Aw! You didn’t deny it!” I smiled, turning my head over to see him, well, try to.

I could kind of see him, my eyes adjusting to the dark. I noticed how he was already looking at me, his bright red eyes visible.

“What?” I questioned.

He squinted, glaring at me before sighing.

“It’s kinda cute…” he spoke.

I waited for him to add context to it, glad that it was dark enough to not see my red face.

“The bunny, I mean. Not you. Obviously.” He scoffed.

“I’ll take it as a win.” I smiled.

We stayed quiet, turning our backs to one another as they pressed up against each other. I ignored the heat on my face and the fact that we're so close together.

“You should get a fan. It’ll make this room cooler and it’ll be great background noise for this awkward silence.” I spoke.

He sighed. “Yeah. I will.”

Parts: One, current part, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten (to be continued when Spy x Family has more Yuri content!)

Want more Yuri content? Check out the Want more Yuri content? Check out the Yuri Briar Masterlist!

Have any requests? Check my masterlist to see the characters I write for: Masterlist (Please request, I have too much free time and too little fics).

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thegloweringcastle · 4 months

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A Million Lifetimes

Happy holidays to @sideralwriting!! My dear, I appreciate your patience with me as I navigated life (& the gift swap) this holiday season. It has been SUCH a delight getting to know you these past few weeks and I look forward to hopefully staying in touch after the swap! I'm sorry this isn't my best work, but I hope you like it nonetheless. I tried my best to add small little details you might appreciate, and I know it's not great but I hope it may bring you some joy. <3

And the absolute biggest hug and thank you to @acotargiftexchange for being so patient with me - I'm sorry I had to be *That Person* this year. Thank you all from the bottom of my heart<3<3<3<3<3

No warnings to be found! Just silly feysand fluff and shenanigans.

_~_~_~_~_~_~_

Many people use the holidays as a time to reflect on all which has changed. Some measure how much they’ve grown as individuals, others use it as a way to mark the end of a long, grueling year - seeing the short break as a way to signify a year’s worth of change and prompt improvement for the months between the next holiday.

Feyre and Rhys, on a similar note, liked to use it as a way to track how many times they have found each other, over and over again.

***

This time the wind blew gently; not hard enough to urge people inside, but not so gentle that it went unnoticed. In the crowded holiday market of Velaris, two people huddled closer together, sharing heat and smiles.

“I’m just saying,” Feyre’s words formed between them as frosty clouds. “I still think that the winter we spent in Greenland was better than the one in London.”

“But Feyre darling,” Rhysand’s words were not as clear as Feyre’s, thanks to the scarf he kept tight around his face. “London!”

“Yes, London, but it was early nineteenth century London and we had just run into each other - quite literally - from slipping and sliding through sewage.”

“Oh, darling, you forget how I so smoothly saved us from certain doom.” He tugged the scarf away from his face, rewinding it around both of them.

“You didn’t save my shoes, that’s for certain.” She huffed. “All I’m saying is I believe you’re looking at it through rose-colored lenses.”

He chuckled. “I’m not going to win, am I?”

“No, my love. You’re not.” She offered him a pat on the cheek - a consolation.

They wandered between stalls of vendors, watching the holiday lights and decorations in quiet awe. Feyre itched to blend the colors together on canvas, perhaps make a mashup of every holiday she’d ever spent with Rhys. There would be golds and reds from the market they currently walked through, but there would also be greys and browns and greens. Light and shade, with a fair share of tears to balance out the smiles. It would be… chaotic. And perfect. A strange, haphazard image that perfectly depicted their lives.

She tugged on his hand, drawing them to a stop in front of a Bavarian craftsman.

“What about that christmas in Germany?”

“That was a pretty good year. Bloody cold though.” He shivered, as if just the thought of it sent chills down his spine. “I think it’s still one of my favorites of our firsts. It was refreshing to see you so at ease. Remember how simple it was that year?”

Yes, Feyre remembered that life well. It was among her favorites, she supposed; one of their cozier lives.

***

Feyre could feel the cold seeping through the window of the train even on the farthest side of her bench. Her lace gloves didn’t do much other than look pretty, and not for the first time she grew irked at women’s fashions for being so terribly impractical. Sure, petticoats galore were plenty warm in such low temperatures, but not very easy to maneuver; and narrow-heeled boots weren’t especially stable in slush and ice.

Nonetheless, she was enjoying her travels. Watching the world blur past the window was meditative - reassuring. There may not have been much left for her to escape, but being on the move was the only way to ensure peace and quiet - and the only way for her to feel less adrift in her search for… whatever it was she thought was missing.

The train drew to a halt, wheels screeching against the tracks as it stopped for a station in Munich. The hustle and bustle of people unboarding began immediately, luggage being jostled down the aisle and people rushing past. It was a wonder Feyre even noticed the booklet which tumbled to the floor - she wouldn’t have, if it hadn’t fallen from the pocket of a man with violet eyes.

She leaned over, snatching it during a break in the crowd while trying to keep track of her stranger. Right before he stepped off, his gaze found hers.

Her heart tugged, and before she knew it, Feyre was out of her seat - belongings snagged at the last minute - and braving the crowd to follow the man with violet eyes. The notebook couldn’t have been more than thirty pages or so, yet it sat heavy in her hand as she navigated the crowded station, ducking between people and dodging around suitcases. Feyre realized that she had lost sight of her stranger, but there was a sense of urgency she couldn’t shake. It wasn’t until she was panting for air and had almost certainly gone in circles that she slumped onto a bench, setting her things down with a clatter and letting the book fall open on her lap.

She knew it was rude to look, but it was unlikely that she would find the owner to return it. One peek couldn’t hurt; if it was a grocery list - well, nothing terribly personal there. If it was notes, or perhaps a novel in the making… She was an artist too. It would be fine.

Still, she wasn’t quite prepared for what she found on that random, worn page.

In that icy chill

Of those depthless blue eyes

I see only warmth

I wonder

How might it feel

To succumb to you

Adrift in your blue

“There you are,” A voice deep as night stood out over the din of the train station. “From the train. I’ve been looking for you.”

Feyre snapped the book shut with a resounding thwack and stood abruptly, only to be pinned in place by a pair of violet eyes.

“I’ve been looking for you too. For a while, I think.” She held out the journal. “This is yours?”

“Indeed. Thank you for finding it for me.” Their hands overlapped, making it impossible for Feyre to let go.

“This may sound odd, but for quite some time I’ve been looking for something I think I lost. You seem to be good at finding things,” She could listen to his voice forever. “Perhaps you could help me once more?”

Even as he asked, the pieces began to fall into place. Sounds of past lives ringing through to the present, urging her to hang onto him. Memories returned to both of them, and his grip moved from the journal to her hand.

“Of course.” She smiled, watching carefully for a crinkle around his eyes. “I would love to.”

***

“I have to admit, all those skirts were warm, but they sure were a pain to deal with when nature called.”

Rhys’ laugh boomed between the aisles of vendors. “And it made it much more challenging to undress y-”

“That’s enough!” She clapped a hand over his mouth before he could say anything too filthy. “We are in public, Rhys!”

He smirked. “I wasn’t going to say anything.”

“Yeah, sure you weren’t.”

“I think it’s you who let her dirty mind get carried away.” His grin was impish.

“If I have a dirty mind it’s only because you’ve rubbed off on me.”

He put his hands up, surrendering. “Whatever you say, love.”

They wandered some more between vendors, debating over their favorite holidays together and which first-meeting was their best.

“I thought it was funny when your friend introduced us,” It was a memory that Feyre often thought of, no matter how plain it might have been. “Not sure if it was the best, but it was… normal.” Out of everything, that had to count for something, right?

Rhys laughed loudly, grabbing her hand even tighter. “And he kept meddling in our business no matter how clear we made it that we were together.”

“It was flattering to know he thought we went well together, at least.” She wagged a finger at him, laughing slightly. “At least it was better than the one where you saved me from being burned at the stake. That was pretty horrid, wasn't it?”

He pulled her close, teasing and hinting at a kiss. “At least I got to play hero for you.”

“Oh,” She dragged it out. “That’s right, because we were early in the game and I was, at the time, still half convinced you were a complete prick. Yes, you did need those extra points.”

He hummed, half in amusement and half in agreement. “What about that one we spent at that inn? That was one hell of a time.”

“The place with the armadillos?” She shivered. “Unfortunately, I do remember that.”

***

Feyre did not like the high desert for two reasons. Reason one: The air was too dry, it hurt her skin and chapped the inside of her nose. Reason two: there were too many creepy crawling critters that wanted either to kill her, to eat her, or to steal her body heat.

It didn’t matter if it was winter and most animals had either migrated or gone into hibernation underground. She did not. Like. The. desert.

“Almost there, darlin’.” Rhys encouraged, ignoring the fact that she had just chewed him out in an hour-long tangent for “dragging her into the middle of nowhere for a single, stupid job in the blasted desert during a snowstorm”.

“I thought the desert didn’t get snow.” Feyre was pouting. She knew she was pouting. Unfortunately, she was too uncomfortable to care.

“This is the high desert, love. It’s a bit more dramatic than what we’re used to.”

“Rhys,” She pulled their horses to a stop and faced him. It was getting harder to see as the snowfall grew heavier. “Please tell me we’re close. I don’t want to cut this life short, I especially don’t want to cut this life short because of one stupid decision.”

“I promise you, darlin’, we’re not far.” He turned to face forward, pulling out his compass. “There’s a small town just around this bend. We’ll stay there ‘till this weather clears up.”

Feyre didn’t waste her energy responding - she wanted a hot drink and soft bed now.

Sure enough, Rhys hadn’t been lying. There was a town - small and rundown though it was, Feyre was just grateful they wouldn’t freeze to death in the most miserable place on earth.

Rhys held the door for her, the two of them stepping into an inn and stomping the snow from their boots and shaking the ice from their scarves and coats.

“Howdy there and welcome, I’m Shirley and I sure am happy to see you. What can I do for you lovely folks tonight?”

Feyre looked up from where she was struggling to undo her buttons, ready to charm the lovely owner for a room, before letting out a startled gasp.

The woman - Shirley - held an armadillo to her chest as one might hold a cat or puppy. A snake rested coiled on the hearth, another few armadillos trundled between tables at the restaurant. Other patrons sat at the bar normally, seemingly unconcerned with the lizards crawling around the counters.

“W-we um-”

“Howdy ma'am.” He stuck his hand out, not once looking at the armadillo the lady held. “The name’s Rhysand, this here’s my lovely wife Feyre. We got caught in the snow and were hoping you might be able to spare a room for the two of us?”

“Of course! I hope you two don’t mind cacti too much. Any concerns? You know what, doesn’t matter. I’ll grab a key and show you two on up!”

“That’s perfect. Thank you, ma’am.”

Not even thirty minutes later they had gotten a room and were getting ready for bed. Or, Rhys was getting ready for bed.

“Rhysand, you know I love animals. I adore animals. I do not, however, adore snakes. Or any desert dwelling creatures. They're gross, and dusty, and out to get you. Remember that Christmas in Australia? Boiling hot and everything was trying to kill us.”

“But darling, that’s Australia.”

“That’s irrelevant!” She huffed. “My point is, I want to celebrate our first christmas in this life somewhere other than an Inn filled with wild animals.”

He grabbed her hands, stopping her pacing and making her meet his gaze. “We will. I promise.”

Sure enough, the storm had passed by the time they woke in the morning. They were up and at’em in a hurry, Rhys’ compass taking them to the next town over in time for a holiday spent indoors, together, and most importantly away from wild animals.

***

“I think I still have that compass, somehow. I remember finding it again in an antique shop in that area a few lives ago, then I tucked it away for safekeeping - and the future. Sort of like you do with our rings.”

At the mere mention, Feyre brought hers up to the light. It glimmered beneath the street lamps, scratched and nicked from centuries of wear. Some people may have been bothered if their wedding rings had been so damaged, but Feyre just saw it as lives well lived and loved.

She shrugged. “So that may not have been my favorite, but it wasn’t the worst. In hindsight, it was a more entertaining year, so I can’t hate it.”

Rhys’ shit-eating grin dimmed, shade by shade. “I know which one was my least favorite.”

It was Feyre’s too.

They both sobered and held one another a little bit closer.

***

In all of their lifetimes, through dozens of centuries, it was the longest they had been apart; the loneliest they had ever been, too.

War had a tendency to do that.

In this particular life Feyre had been teaching art classes at an elementary school, biding her time while waiting for something. Someone. There was a pain in her heart amplified by a holiday season spent alone. It felt like every day the rain would just fall and fall and fall, unbroken by sunshine or snow. Even ice would have been welcome - anything to cut through the long, unending shadows.

She sat in a late night diner, avoiding returning to an empty apartment while sipping burnt coffee over a half-finished portrait of a man with raven hair and violet eyes. Something familiar, someone unknown. Behind the counter a server switched the radio to a news channel broadcasting the latest updates from overseas.

Had she known that her next life would be so much fuller, she might not have been so hopeless. Had she known that, a lifetime from then, memories would come rushing back and the stranger in her painting would not be so strange, she might have been less disturbed by the sheer number of renditions she had made of the same man.

Alas, she did not know these things. She didn’t even know the cruel twist of the universe - the war? - taking from her the man she didn’t know she waited for. And so for many many more nights she sat in silence with a tepid, burnt coffee (she preferred hot chocolate) and endless half-finished portraits, always hoping for the rain to stop.

***

Children rushed past them, dodging around holiday shoppers and festival booths with shocking agility. Silence hung between them like a clock’s pendulum at its peak, ready to come falling down at any second.

He squeezed her hand. “It made our next-first-meeting even better, I would say.”

Sparkling lights of all different colors turned to smudges in the background as Feyre focused her gaze on Rhys; on his violet eyes. Some things about him had changed, especially after the war, but his eyes stayed the same. The way he smiled with his entire being remained the same. Reliable. Constant.

“I think I would have to agree.”

***

With time their memories would fade. They would begin again, growing into new lives and apart from each other, but they were inevitably always nudged back together. And each time, they remembered one another a bit more easily.

So when Rhys settled in after the war and his new neighbor felt like home, all he needed was a light push in the right direction.

That day in particular had been windy and icy. Roads were closed, businesses were shut down, students were off of school. The universe handed Rhys an excuse to seek out his neighbor on a silver platter: the power went out, and Rhys knew his apartment was the only one with a classic wood-burning fireplace.

She answered after only the first knock.

“I have hot chocolate at my apartment and a working fireplace - if you need. Hot water too.”

Her gaze was soft, and she didn’t hesitate before agreeing.

They kept that year simple, soft, easy. It’s what they needed - something comforting. She stayed even many hours after the power had gone back on and the world had returned to operating in full-swing. They fell into easy company as years long since passed came rushing back, and a new promise was made to never be separated for that long.

***

They still had yet to break their promises.

“I thought that was very domestic, even for you.” Feyre grinned, exchanging a few coins for a small cone of roasted chestnuts.. “But I wonder if maybe we’d earned it. So many different adventures and lifetimes… maybe it’s good that we finally have the time for things like hot chocolate and wood fires. And roasted chestnuts.”

His lips turned up, the creases around his eyes softened. “Maybe you’re right.”

When it inevitably grew too cold outside and even their shared scarf and intertwined hands weren’t enough to keep them warm, the couple navigated through the crowded streets towards their shared townhouse.

Cozy, small, but most importantly - theirs.

He took her jacket, she put away his hat. He put the kettle on, she got their mugs and measured out the tea. They moved fluidly together, silently; familiar over so many different lives spent together. It wasn’t until they had settled in together on the couch, warmed pumpkin beside steaming tea on the coffee table, that Feyre spoke again.

“I still don’t know which of our holidays is my favorite. Maybe I don’t have one.”

Rhys reached out to tuck a lock of her hair behind one ear, cupping her face with the movement. “My favorite one is the one with you.”

“That’s most of them - I don’t think that counts as any single one, as romantic as it is.” She placed a kiss on his cheek. “But you sure are a sweet talker.”

“Then it’s this one, right here, right now, with you. When we can finally have forever.”

***

In every one of their meetings and partings, Rhys and Feyre fell together into one single life. Whether it grew from eye contact across a supermarket, a quick handshake in a business meeting, or simply bumping shoulders on a crowded sidewalk, and no matter how it ended, there was another life waiting for them. Homes to be lived in and loved, holidays to be spent bundled up together in a bubble outside of time.

It was the general consensus between the two of them: The best lives were the ones spent together.

#secret santa 2023 #acotar gift exchange #feysand

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kilikina34512 · 1 year

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Perfect

Let me preface this story by saying that I'm well aware that Ed Sheeran's song Perfect was not written or sung anywhere near the 40s. I'm taking creative liberties here. Divider courtesy of @firefly-graphics. Make sure to check them out!

Pairing: Winter Soldier Bucky x f!reader

Summary: After crashing into the ice together, you and Steve worked together as best friends and Avengers in the 21st century. The both of you, though, had left a piece of you behind in the past: his best friend and the love of your life. When you're stuck facing off against HYDRA's weapon, the Winter Solider, you discover the past may not have stayed there.

Warnings: bit of angst with HEA, violence (non-descript), fluff at the end

Word Count: 1,296

"Doll!"

The yell came from a concerned Steve, who was currently trying to make his way to you but was being held up by fighting three HYDRA soldiers at once. Yet, despite the fight happening around him, in the back of your mind, you couldn't be surprised that he still had an eye on you.

He'd made a promise to his best friend to watch over you after all.

Which he was no doubt kicking himself for not upholding as you were currently pinned underneath one of the worse HYDRA soldiers: the Winter Soldier. Both hands wrapped around your throat, you felt your air beginning to become restricted, causing a moment for your brain to flash back to an alley beside a bar in Germany about 70 years ago with a pair of blue eyes and a raspy voice in your ear whispering that he'd make sure you couldn't alert the fellow soldiers inside how good you could take him.

You were quickly pulled out of the memory, ignoring the pulsing pain in your heart, as you realized you couldn't breathe at all anymore. Despite your body reflexively trying to suck in as much oxygen as it couldn't get, you still caught the soldier off guard as you slammed your fist into the side of his head, knocking him off of you.

Rolling to the side and rising to your feet fast as you regained your breath, you felt the large, reassuring hand against your upper back. "You alright," Steve asked, concern in his voice as neither of you took your eyes off of the enemy in front of you. You confirmed you were as you watched the Winter Soldier rise to his feet, his back to you and the mask he'd been wearing at his feet where you'd caused it to come off with your hit.

Sliding a foot behind you, settling quickly into your fighting stance, ready for him to come for either of you again, you couldn't help but stare at the back of his head. Another memory flashed before your eyes, as they seemed to be doing ever since HYDRA's weapon had landed in front of the sedan you'd been traveling in. That shoulder-length hair, the same brunette color that you grabbed countless times whenever it was between your thighs.

You shook your head, dislodging the memory. You knew after this fight, you'd have a good cry session after you pounded your way through Steve's stack of punching bags. You couldn't escape reminders of your fiancé, something you'd thought you'd gotten good at handling, but then you weren't typically facing constant flashbacks like you were currently. You could usually handle a flashback here and there, now that time and therapy had allowed you to escape experiencing them daily, but nothing ever took away the pain or hollow hole in your chest that his death had left. Despite that, you'd reached a point of handling just about anything.

Nothing could've prepared you for the next few moments.

You lost all composure as the Winter Soldier turned to face you and Steve. You weren't sure if your heart stopped altogether or began beating faster than it ever has before. Your surroundings faded as all you could suddenly hear was the roaring in your ears of your own blood. Your lungs seized as if you were being deprived of oxygen all over again and you were sure your eyes were wrong.

Your eyes had to be wrong.

He was dead.

Steve stepped forward, and if you'd been able to tear your eyes away, you would've seen a level of shock on his face that mirrored your own as he quietly said, "Bucky?"

Oh, lord above. It was him. He was alive. Your eyes weren't wrong.

It was your Bucky. Your soulmate. Your fiancé.

Unexplainable joy filled your body before it was almost completely drained with the words that left his mouth.

"Who the hell is Bucky?"

The Winter Soldier, who apparently was Bucky, launched his attack, but you couldn't move. It wasn't until the sound of his metal fist, oh lord above he had a metal prosthetic and you were going to have to process the millions of scenarios that could've caused that to happen later, collided with Steve's vibranium shield that you snapped out of the shocked daze you'd been stuck in seeing the love of your life standing in front of you, looking as young and Steve and you appeared.

You were prepared this time when he came for you and you successfully blocked him. The three of you continued to be locked in combat as Bucky stayed on the offense, neither you nor Steve being able to bring yourselves to harm him. Steve stayed focused on trying to keep the both of you from getting hurt, especially once Bucky pulled out a knife, but you couldn't stop trying to get him to snap out of whatever trance had him in its grip.

No amount of pleas, begging, or reminders of his past seemed to be getting through to him. "Bucky, please, I know you're in there," you cried as you jumped between the once best friends after Bucky kicked into the side of a truck. "I know you are, come back to me." As Bucky's gaze shifted back to you, you continued, "I lost you once, I will not give you up again."

That was the first falter you saw in his behavior.

For a second, he froze. A look of confusion crossed his face and you were suddenly struck with an idea.

You put a hand up, signaling to Steve to wait, and you started to sing. "'Cause we were still kids when we fell in love, not knowing what it was. I will not give you up, this time."

In your peripheral vision, you saw Sam, who'd been fighting as well, land beside Steve. "What is she doing," he asked skeptically. His displeasure was obvious since Bucky was slowly approaching you, but Steve wasn't intervening and you were singing of all things.

Steve, catching on, said, "Just wait and see, I think she's getting through."

"But darling, just kiss me slow," you continued, "your heart is all I own, and in your eyes you're holding mine."

Bucky took his final step, standing in front of you, watching you sing with rapt attention. His eyes flickered as if recognition was dawning. Music seemed to be helping him regain control.

"Baby, I'm," you began the chorus alone, but as you continued, Bucky joined in, "dancing in the dark." Floored that he was singing back, his raspy voice low as it always was when you sang together, you were stunned silent as he continued, eyes locked on yours.

"With you between my arms. Barefoot on the grass while listening to our favorite song." You couldn't resist reaching for him anymore. Slowly, you raised your hand until it rested against his cheek. He didn't move, but his eyes shuttered closed.

"When you said you looked a mess," you rejoined, singing together just like you had decades ago before the war, "I whispered underneath my breath but you heard it. Darling, you look perfect tonight."

His eyes slowly opened and you were met with love and affection. "My Doll," he breathed, wrapping his arms around you, pulling you against him and clinging to you as if you'd disappear if he did. You couldn't control the sob of both loss and joy as you truly began to believe you had the love of your life again.

As you stood amongst the distraction around you, with Steve and Sam watching not far, you didn't know what the future was going to hold, what happened to your Bucky in the past, but at that moment in the present, everything was okay. And you planned to do everything to make sure this second chance at a happy future wasn't lost again.

#bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x reader #bucky fanfic #james bucky barnes #winter soldier #slight angst #angst with a happy ending #fluff #bucky fluff

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my2phetaliaheadcanons · 1 year

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TWISTED WONDERLAND DORMS: Axis and Allies Edition

A cloaked figure hesitantly walked toward the mirror. His eyes froze on his own reflection and rows of similarly cloaked figures behind him.

Mere steps away, he stopped and leaned forward. Confused about why he was forced to stand before the great panel of glass when green smoke rose from the duplicate’s robe. Eyes widening the man stood bone straight and jumped back to peer at his arms.

He was shocked and relieved to discover that he was unharmed, but was confused once more when a thick, accented voice spoke. “State thy name.”

Flashing his eyes to the mirror once more, the Nation was shocked to see that his reflection was no more. Instead, was a mask, bathed in the toxic light that must have risen from the green smoke.

“State thy name.”

When he didn’t respond, it called a third time. This time, he grinned maliciously.

“My name is…”

Heartslabyul: The Queen of Heart’s Strictness

Italy: A desire for loyalty means rules. Though Luciano fits into Heartslabyul by the creation of his own set of ridiculously, horrifying rules. Each new one he would create would be inspired by the Queen’s own madness. Especially since each break meant that someone’s head would be gone.

Luciano would work his way to becoming the Perfect, doesn’t matter who he must stab. He will become the Queen and take Heartslabyul from just a bunch of rule followers to those that create them.

Japan: A man of honor follows the rules set before him, even if they are most unconventional. Kurai would be as Riddle is, strict with every rule, but unlike the rose-red tyrant, he may murmur about the madness of some of the rules.

Kurai wouldn’t mind being Perfect, but the number of rules that would require him to uphold turned him off from it. He would rather take over another dorm and rule from there. One dorm seems like it could use some order that he is more than happy to give. Whether the wild residents want it or not.

Savanaclaw: The King of the Beasts’ Spirit of Persistence

Canada: Matt’s persistence in getting what he wants perfectly fits him into Savanaclaw. Just like Leona’s willingness to cheat and turn a stadium full of people to sand to win the Spelldrive Tournament, Matt isn’t afraid to do the same if pushed too far.

During his time in the dorm, Matt will enjoy the sparing with the various beastmen. Their antagonistic natures and strive for being the top dog make his days much more fun. Along the way, Matt may decide that he has had enough of going unnoticed in the middle and decides he may need to fight the Perfect for their spot.

Germany: Luther would spend his time napping like a fat cat in the sun while at Savanaclaw. He’ll do the bare minimum with his classes before doing a study binge before each test. This way he can avoid being punished by the various teachers. Especially Coach Vargas, which he often mocks under his breath due to it also being Luciano’s last name and his loud nature.

The idea of being Perfect doesn’t appeal to him. So, Luther would instead slink around the dorm listening in on secrets and blackmailing students to do his part of maintaining the dorm. He wouldn’t be in a rush to get home, instead enjoying the lack of international responsibility.

Octavinelle: The Sea Witch’s Spirit of Benevolence

Spain: Benevolence isn’t a word many would use to describe Armando, but he does fit in. Especially when you compare him to the tweels. Both Armando and the twins are all too happy to wring someone dry of all their unpaid debts. Though, if the current Perfect isn’t careful Armando may just stage a mutiny.

England: There is no better dorm for Oliver than this. Just as Azul and Ursula can use their magic to create frightfully appealing deals, so can this Brit. With gentle words and feigned interest in the plights of his victims, Oliver will be able to line up enough contracts that he may just swindle his way into becoming the Perfect.

His ability to cook also helps set him apart from the rest. The Monstro lounge will become full of students foaming at the mouth for a simple cupcake. All the while is unaware of what he is using it to test. Hopefully, these poor unfortunate souls don’t fall too far.

Scarabia: The Sorcerer of the Sands’ Spirit of Mindfulness

Russia: Viktor’s sense of mind is what aligns him well with the Scarabia dorm. He is cunning and quick to turn any dark tale in his favor. But, he does stand out from the rest of the dorm. His serious attitude pits him against the high-time party of the dorm. He would have been the one to suggest whipping the dorm into shape after their many scholarly and athletic failures during the year.

Though when Jamil goes down, Viktor escapes unscathed. Ready to create a new plan to put himself on top.

Most of his days there will involve excelling in all classes and competitions while looking for ways to get home. Unlike some of the others, he is more anxious to get back to his duties. After all, who knows what one’s boss may do when left alone?

Pomefiore: The Fairest Queen’s Spirit of Tenacity

Romano: Cruella is as Cruella does and Fabrizio is no different. With a flair for poisons and a fit for fashion, this man plans on ruling Pomefiore. Just as the tenacious Queen Grimhilde, Fabrizio will keep being determined to rule this fabulous dorm.

Most of his days will be spent learning the fashion of the different lands and creating a catalog of designs to create once he is home. Using his suave nature, his minions will have study guides and highlighted books ready for him to study.

Fabrizio won’t care about being Perfect, all he wants to be is the King of the school. After all, what is better than being the fairest of them all?

Austria: Jonathan seems like an odd one out. He is loud and rude, nothing about him seems refined. He is one of the most tenacious ones on this list. His desire for attention and for creating the best music about himself puts him in the spotlight. Whenever it is threatened, Jon won’t hesitate to curse or break something to get it back.

Jon will quickly gain a reputation that would be a weird mix of Rook’s and Floyd’s. In simpler terms, everyone is going to run from him. He may make some forced friends and happily present his songs to them, but when his back is turned, they take off running. He would also spend a lot of time in detention due to his narcissistic behaviors. Hopefully, the school will survive his temper tantrums.

China: Jin’s wasn’t the happiest when he first was placed in the prissier dorm. After all, he is created of drugs and the leader of many men, he doesn’t understand why he was placed among these weaklings. Until he discovers what the Queen was actually known for. Her spirit of tenacity and ability to create deadly concoctions speaks to his old soul.

Centuries of experience help Jin work his way close to the current Perfect. Once seated at a high rank, Jin uses all the available perks. Labs and hidden spell books are used with ease and used to help formulate a new concoction of drugs. Once he has enough new people under him, Jin may decide to take over. Or, he may just settle for using people to pull the strings from the shadows. After all, don’t the shadows know who the true ruler is?

Ignihyde: The King of the Underworld’s Spirit of Diligence

America: This bad boy may not be the most tech-savvy when it comes to computers but give him a car or bike of any kind and he’s tricked it out ten different ways. That and his similarities to Hades slide him well into Ignihyde.

Allen will enjoy his time there learning and fixing magic bikes. He may get in trouble with a few different professors due to the number of times he’s caught winning races but doesn’t care since he won the pot. When his peers become a little too cocky with him, he’ll shut them down with a quick fight. Happy to take the prideful down a couple of pegs.

He may even try to get the Perfect position through intimidation rather than a fight. After all their current one seems more content to escape than engage.

Diasomnia: The Thorn Fairy’s Spirit of Nobility

Prussia: The nobility of a knight is one that can never fully disappear. Even if it has been centuries since Wil has fully acted on it. The day he was placed into Diasomnia and met the Perfect Malleus, he was willing to pledge his life to the fae prince.

Since Wil is no longer a nation, he’s not in as much of a rush to return home. Especially since this world carries many of the elements that he has missed. If Malleus fully accepts him as a knight, then he will fulfill his duty to the highest degree. If not, then he will go about doing his schoolwork while finding ways to protect students from blot before eventually returning home.

France: François may not seem like a noble since he acts more like an old, alley cat, but you forget his past. This man once sat in the presence of royalty and knows how to hold him such as much. It’s just he expects the same, or more in return should he give it.

As a member of the dorm, François will slack in his classes and in events. Often seen smoking or reading in hidden areas of the dorm. When he does decide to speak with others it’s usually Lila and those two swap war stories. Through the stories, mutual respect is reached and once the door home is found, there is at least one that will miss the grumpy French man.

Ramshackle:

You: Just like the MC of Twisted Wonderland, you somehow appeared with your favorite nation. Though somehow, he had a knack for magic, you never knew that. Since you were so unlucky enough to end up there without magic, you got stuck in the dorm of uneducated therapists. Maybe Grim and the Grinning Ghosts can help you keep the crazy 2p in line while saving the students from Overblots. Hopefully you two can make it home. Or not.

#2p hetalia #2p headcanons #twisted wonderland #2p allies #2P axis #2P france #2P FACE #2p america #2p canada #2p england #2p russia #2p china #2P Italy #2p romano #2P Germany #2P Japan #2p austria #2P Prussia #2p spain

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angeltreasure · 11 months

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hello pope anon again! lol. i was talking about the current pope francisco. he seems to anger some but i actually haven’t found anything i personally disagree or dislike

Hi Pope anon!! 😊 Welcome back!

I find he has upset some people because of placing limits on the Traditional Latin Mass (TLM). It has upset many people, because for some people this is what they grew up with and for some other people they can’t understand why it is being limited because it has such beauty that isn’t found in the New Mass.

He fears having more Traditional Latin Mass will bring about more divide in the Church. We already have evidence of a part of the Church that broke away, The Society of Saint Pius X (SSPX). Then of course, Latin, although being the old universal language, is not spoken anymore, so not everyone grew up knowing it at Mass and less know it by heart without studying it or knowing what the words mean. In a book I just read, it said many people stopped full participation in the Mass because they couldn’t understand Latin, so Mass became more of something of a show they would walk in and sit down to watch the priest do. This is a direct cause as to why so many do not believe in the true presence of Jesus Christ being truly present body, blood, soul, and divinity in the Eucharist years ago and even more so today! 75% of Catholics do not believe He is truly in the consecrated bread and wine.

I am sure others are angered as well with the usual Church scandals not being addressed properly in places around the world and I find it very troubling with what is happening in Germany (please pray for the Catholic Church in Germany!). It seems Germany may even break away someday.

Being Pope is very different, as you are not just a priest entrusted with the souls of one parish but you have the whole world, and the world at the same time looks to you to teach them what could be best for the Church. No pope is perfect, since he is human like the rest of the saints. Even though people are quick to point out the bad and the flaws, we can help them to see the goodness he has. I have seen so many videos online of children and adults alike coming up to him and he is so gentle and prays for them. He has visited other parts of the Catholic Church and world leaders to help establish connection and peace.

We must pray together for the intentions of our Pope Francis!! He needs us as much as we need him, whether we know it now or when God reveals it to us after we pass from this life. He is not perfect but he is our current Pope. 🤍🕊️

#asks #Pope anon

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mask131 · 9 months

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Fantasy throughout the world

On top of having an article centered around the French fantasy specifically, the "Modern Success" issue of the BNF Fantasy series also has an article (again written by Anne Besson) covering the topic of "Fantasy throughout the world". Here is, once again, a rough translation by your humble servant:

While heavily dominated by an English-speaking production, fantasy literature found its place in numerous European countries, and managed to cross several continents.

Born in England, grown in parallel on the two sides of the Atlantic oceans, and becoming a mass-phenomenon in the United-States, fantasy is without a doubt an anglophone genre. Even today the fantasy market has a MASSIVE unbalance, and the modern fantasy successes prove that the mondialization of the imaginations is dominated by the cultural superpower of the USA. But ever since the 1970s, as the translations of Tolkien spread across the world and role-playing games conquered the heart of teenagers, "native fantasies" started to appear in various European languages.

German fantasy is a good example of one of those "local takes" - it does help that Germany has a literary background including the Romantic movement, and the brothers Grimm fairytales. After the enormous success of Michael Ende's Never-Ending Story in 1979, the German fantasy did not stop. Many successful authors appeared. Wolfgang Hohlbein gained an internal fame, with his 1982 Märchenmond or his 1999's Chronicles of the Immortals. Cornelia Funke was a famous German youth author, with her trilogy "Inkworld" in 2003. Kai Meyer reworked Germanic legends in his 1998's Loreley or his 2001's Nibelungengold. Walter Moers created the continent of Zamonia, and popularized the character of Captain Blue-Bear (hero of a 1993's children television show, of two novels, and of a 1999's movie).

But very often, international fame only latches on one specific author that is well-known outside of their country's frontiers. In Poland, this author would be Andrzej Sapkowski with his 1986's Witcher series, adapted in 2007 as a video game, and in 2019 as a television series). In Spain, it would be Javier Negrete with his 2003's Tramorea.

Crossing the continents, it becomes very tempting to mix together the magic of fantasy literature with specifically cultural supernatural domains - the Hindu pantheon, the Chinese ghost stories, the kami and the yokai of Japan, the witchcraft of Africa or the Caribbean Isles...

South-America is rich of a literary tradition that in France we compare to our own "fantastique": the short stories of Argentina's authors Jose Luis Borges or Adolfo Bioy Casares in the 40s, the magical realism of Alejo Carpentier in Cuba (The Century of Lights, 1962), of Gabriel Garcia Marquez in Columbia (A Hundred Years of Solitude, 1967) or Carlos Fuenta in Mexico (Terra Nostra, 1975).

On the side of the African continent, The Road of Hunger, in 1991, by Nigerian author Ben Okri, is also part of this more "legitimate" current, a form of fantasy much closer to "general literature", but there is a new African generation, dominated by English-speaking women (Nnedi Okorakor, Nisi Shaw, Lauren Beukes) that fully appropriate and absorb the fantasy genre.

Up until a very recent date, it was considered more respectful to not assimilate these works, born of very different cultures, with a genre that is both modern and Anglo-Saxon. However, the numeric world and the mondialized economy have today destroyed a lot of cultural frontiers, and today we assist to a true "meeting of the imaginations" mixing various cultures together. The author of this article mentions as an example several works coming from East-Asia: the Japanese manga Full Metal Alchemist by Arakawa Hirowu, the other Japanese manga Witch Hat Atelier, or the Sino-American movie The Great Wall (2016).

#fantasy literature #foreign fantasy #fantasy references #fantasy novels #german fantasy #non-english fantasy #polish fantasy #spanish fantasy #african fantasy #european fantasy #japanese fantasy #fantasy throughout the world

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roselightfairy · 7 months

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9 ringwraiths people you would like to get to know better:

Tagged by @tathrin - thank you! :)

three ships: well APPARENTLY I am someone who only ever ships anymore, so the real problem is narrowing it down! I'll try to give a variety. Legolas/Gimli, of course, is the OTP of my heart - and also THE ship for tenderness and mutual respect and wondrous shocking life-altering devotion. Soooo I'll go for a totally opposite ship now and say Buffy/Spike, which is intense and horrible and fascinating and multifaceted, and definitely Awakened several things in me. (there are a lot of things I love in fiction or dynamics that fascinate me that I can trace back to that ship, once I peel back the layers.) And finally I'll say Qui-Gon/Obi-Wan, because obviously that's what's fascinating me right now. It's been a very fun way to explore different kinds of a-spectrum relationships - and speaking of awakening things in me, turns out I had a whole Teacher Thing a mile wide and an ocean deep that has been verrrrry fun to play with.

first ever ship: I don't know what really counts for something like this, but I'll go with an answer I gave for a recent ask meme: Percy/Annabeth from the PJO series! I watched these two crazy kids fall in love over the course of years, and I think reading their first kiss was the first time I'd experienced a Chemical Reaction in my brain from something like that. They are so important to me.

last song: I've been really into Randy Rainbow's political parodies lately, haha, so if it counts, his "Speaker of the House" was the last thing YouTube fed me. If you're looking for a slightly more traditional song, "Closer to Fine" by the Indigo Girls. <3

last movie: um, haha - full or incomplete? The last movie I watched all the way through was Titanic, with the twist that it was the German dubbed version, in Germany, with a family friend. But the last movie that I watched part of was The Phantom Menace, also in German, because I wanted to see what second-person pronouns they used. (I stopped and went to do other things as soon as I heard "In einer Hinsicht habt Ihr Recht gehabt, Master," because that was ALL I needed to know. :) For the moment, anyway.)

currently reading: I'm between things when it comes to fiction right now, but working my way through Saving New Sounds: Podcast Preservation and Historiography.

currently watching: also between things! After spending the whole summer watching all of Clone Wars and Rebels, @thevillainsmustache and I are in need of a bit of a media breather!

currently consuming: baklava! Or, well, I was - but then I finished it while typing up these answers.

currently craving: writing energy and ideas. :( Only Through Surrender took a lot out of me and I miss that high.

9 people to tag: @carlandrea @enide-s-dear @brasspumpkinspice @marbleharbor @kagenightray @thevillainsmustache @friendly-chaos @the-dwelf-ao3 @unnamedelement and anyone else who might want to do this! :)

#tag game

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robinsnest2111 · 1 year

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Hey everyone.

I have thought about this situation for 4 months at this point, have listened to lots of opinions, talked to lots of people (in and out of fandom spaces), and have finally come to some kind of conclusion for myself.

It's gonna be a long one and I don't want to clog up anyone's dash, so

To reiterate: I do understand where the concerned messages were coming from. The last thing I want to do is cause anyone harm. I also understand the subject matter is quite touchy, polarising and controversial (being German and having been educated about the horrendous ideology and crimes of Hitler and the Nazis since I was old enough to understand).

I've been part of the Hogan's Heroes fandom for almost 5 years ever since I watched two episodes on German afternoon TV, have reblogged dozens of posts and shared my own fan creations without anyone finding any fault with it, up until I reblogged a particular piece of fan art in January and received the first couple asks. This, among other things, has caused me great confusion and has made me question my entire thought process, mental framework, moral compass, and existence as a human being on this earth.

I've been in a therapy program for other reasons since mid-March and have discovered that the, as I had previously believed, unrelated reasons play into the current situation A LOT.

[boring mental health ramble ahead]

I have discovered I am still very much a serious people pleaser, do not have proper boundaries, do not value myself as highly as I do everyone around me, have no clear sense of self, am extremely afraid of hurting people without meaning to, being a nuisance and causing displeasure of any kind or giving any reason for confrontation.

Which is why I am also afraid of making mistakes (real or perceived) due to past (and current) experiences. Harmful mistakes, simple inconsequential oopsies, small disagreements and differences in opinion seem to all be on the same level of severity in my brain when pointed out to me. I was punished and reprimanded for all of them the exact same way for all of my childhood and adolescence.

It's high time I learn the difference and no longer take every single thing to heart and punish myself as severely as my parents did, stop frantically erasing every instance of my "wrongdoings" to appease everyone and prevent potential future harm, and not isolate myself from the rest of the world in a twisted attempt at protecting people I care a lot about from the useless horrible unlovable harmful monster that I feel I am in these situations. I cannot punish myself into making less mistakes or being better.

I also need to work on exploring and setting reasonable boundaries to take proper care of myself and my mind. I now know being a people pleaser and diminishing myself, always conforming to what others expect of me, always aiming for being perfectly fault/mistake-free 100% of the time, always taking the path of the least resistance, hiding behind a pleasant mask, constantly bowing to everyone else's will, have served me well in the past. These coping strategies protected me when I was weak and confused and hurting and defenseless. I'm an adult now. But I still tend to fall back into these familiar patterns in times of stress and moments of confrontation. I need to do better. For myself and others. Even if that means not being nice and bland and palatable for every single person on this planet.

[boring mental health ramble end]

Which is why I want to set an important boundary to improve my online experience.

In my opinion: FICTION =/= REALITY

Finding joy in a silly American 1960s comedy show (with an even more tame and hilarious German dub) set in a POW camp in 40s Germany and featuring fictional nazi characters, most of which are portrayed as not agreeing with the system they're serving under, even aiding the efforts of Hogan and his team of allied spies sabotaging the German war effort, but playing along to stay under the radar, are always the butt of the joke and end up as losers at the end of each episode

IS NOT THE SAME AS

glorifying, celebrating or supporting real life (neo)nazis and their awful goals and deeds.

I fully understand seeing such characters without any context is jarring and uncomfortable and, in some cases, triggering.

This is why I want to point out I have a decent tagging system in place. Before panic-deleting, I've used both "hogan's heroes" and "ein käfig voller helden" on relevant posts. I'm sure both can easily be muted on desktop and on mobile.

I am also offering to add extra tags for people who'd like to keep following me but do not want to see anything relating to this fandom (in case I feel comfortable to rejoin/participate again at some point) or fictional nazis on their dash. Send me an ask with what term(s) you'd like me to use and I will make it happen, no questions asked.

If that is not enough, I will have to kindly point out the Unfollow and Block buttons.

I want everyone's online experience to be as enjoyable and pleasant as possible but I finally need to extend that same courtesy to myself.

To be perfectly honest, there's still the petrifying fear that voicing my thoughts and decisions will make me lose people I care about but this has to be done, for my mental wellbeing. Because that's what's most important at the end of the day.

Thank you for taking the time to read this post.

#i've worked on sorting my thoughts on this for weeks and spent several hours writing this text #i hope this'll be the end of it. i'm tired and need energy to focus on other things #it's difficult to voice my opinion like this but it needs to be done. i'm sick of being afraid to the point of physical sickness #the human brain is a difficult beast

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elementaldoughnut12 · 10 months

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"Little Violet"

*slight angst and mentions of childhood trauma/abuse and panic attacks and Google translate might need to be used for some words*

"Scheisse!" Ludwig screamed as the knife sliced his hand. He was making dinner for him and his boyfriend Sami while the latter was doing laundry in the other room. He watched as the crimson liquid spilled quickly down from his hand and dripped onto the cutting board. He then realized what happened... he made a mistake and to Ludwig, mistakes mean punishment and he's certain that Sami will hurt him this time (even though Sami has never done it before.) Ludwig started to hyperventilate and dropped onto the floor and started to rock himself, not caring that he was smearing blood all over his clothes.

Everyone assumes that "The Ludwig Kaiser", right hand man to the "Ring General" Gunther, wouldn't be so worried about a simple accident to his hand... boy were they fucking wrong. His problems stem from his early childhood... he was a middle class boy growing up in Germany with a loving mother and a hard working father. His mother, Amelia, was a loving and caring woman that had the kindest heart. She loved Ludwig with all her heart and Ludwig sometimes believed that she was an angel sent from above to protect him. His father, Hugo, was a hard working man who believed that being tough was how you succeed in life, he also had a temper that only Amelia could control. One unfortunate day, Amelia got sick with pneumonia and died later on that night... that was the night that Ludwig's problems began. Hugo drank heavily that night and he blamed Ludwig for his wife's death, that his son was to blame for losing the love of his life just because Ludwig was in the same room as her. So he started beating Ludwig with that same bottle until he got sick of his sons pathetic crying and left the room. From that day on, Ludwig was beaten black and blue for every little mistake he made by his father. Ludwig was now terrified of making mistakes and would succumb to panic attacks that led to him to go unconscious from lack of air if he ever made said mistakes.

Currently, Ludwig had his head between his knees and was violently shaking while hyperventilating. "I'm such an idiot!" Ludwig thought while grabbing his hair and making his hair pink from the blood. His vision was starting to blacken around the edges and all the noises around him sounded muffled. "He's gonna leave me for sure! He's gonna beat me until I'm unrecognizable and then he's gonna leave me!" he thought as his head was starting to pound. He was too into his own head to hear Sami's footsteps and see the concerned look on his boyfriends face. "Ludwig... Ludwig... Ludwig!" the sound of Sami's voice is what got Ludwig out of his own scary thoughts. "Ludwig, chéri, what happened?" Sami said (he already pieced together what happened based on seeing the blood covered cutting board and the bloody knife but he wanted Ludwig to tell him.) "I-I was cutting s-some carrots so I can u-use them for tonights dinner, b-but my hand slipped and I cut my h-hand on the knife. I-I'm sorry! Please don't h-hurt me!" Ludwig begged to Sami with tears in his eyes.

Sami cupped his hands over Ludwig's cheeks and wiped his stream of tears with his thumbs. "Violet, you know I would never hurt you right? Now take some deep breaths for me ok?" Sami said with a calm tone. Ludwig blushed at the nickname but took some deep breaths and his heartbeat was starting to go back to normal. "There we go, there's my little violet now let me see your hand so I can bandage it up and then get you into some new clothes ok?" Sami said with a sweet smile. Ludwig now knew that Sami wouldn't hurt him so he pulled his hand out to show the cut to Sami. Sami gently grabbed Ludwig's hand and gently kissed the cut which made Ludwig blush even more. "It doesn't look that bad and the bleeding has stopped but we still gotta bandage it up and put some peroxide on it so it doesn't get infected" Sami said while he gently takes Ludwig's hand and takes him to the bathroom.

"I'm sorry you have to do this schatz" Ludwig said sadly. Sami finished bandaging up Ludwig's hand and looked at his boyfriend with a loving smile. "Don't be sorry mon amour, it was a little mistake and I know you still have your moments and just know that I will never leave you and I most certainly will never harm you because I love you violet" Sami said and then kissed Ludwig's forehead which caused him to go red all over. Sami then got Ludwig into a new change of clothes and then ushered them to the bed where he cuddled Ludwig from behind. "You're so special to me violet" Sami said while kissing Ludwig's temple. "I always wondered Sami... why do you always call me violet?" Ludwig questioned. Sami gave him a loving smile. "Well violets are elegant and beautiful and that's what reminds me of you" he said which made Ludwig blush. "O-oh, well I never thought of myself like that but I do love it" Ludwig said then turned to hug Sami. "I'm glad you love it violet, now how about we order some takeout from that one Italian place and watch some cheesy romance movies on hallmark" Sami said while hugging Ludwig and kissing his forehead. Ludwig nodded and kissed Sami deeply. "I'd love that very much, Ich liebe dich mein Schatz" Ludwig said with adoration. "Je t'aime aussi ma violette" Sami said as he kissed Ludwig again with adoration and love. Ludwig was glad he found someone like Sami who gave him so much love while Sami was happy he could give all his love to his little violet.

#SamLud #sami x ludwig #sami zayn #ludwig kaiser #world wrestling entertainment #im the captain of this ship

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peonierose · 1 year

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Strange Encounters

Chapter 2

Nightbound AU vs. Hänsel & Gretel

Book: Nightbound

Characters involved: Hänsel van Andresen (M!OC), Gretel van Andresen (F!OC), Grey (M!OC), Nik Ryder (M!MC), Katherine (F!MC)

Words: 3,000+

Type: Series

Rating: Teen / A few curse words

Summary: Hänsel and Gretel arrive in New Orleans and meet some old friends. Will they be able to help them with the case?

A/N: Side note: This story has been a year in the making and I hope you’ll give it a chance. A massive thank you to these wonderful people for being super excited for this story and helping me with it. @annieruok94 ❤️ @doriopenheart 🧡

Side note: In case you missed Chapter 1

If you’d like to listen to the songs that inspired for this chapter here’s a list

Strange encounters

We flew in from the Black Forest in Germany and landed in New Orleans after a ten-hour flight. We had to make a stop in London, then continued to New Orleans.

Which my dearest brother complained all the way.

”Do you think we’re close?“ Hänsel asked.

I roll my eyes at my brother.

”You can be in a stake-out for hours? But can’t be on a ten-hour flight?“ I ask him while I try to eat some of the food on the plane.

He just shrugs and puts his headphones on.

We’re currently at The Graveyard Shift right in the heart of the French Quarter. Owned by none other than Garrus. A Fae who’s no longer living among his kind.

Garrus was the heir of a Fae viscount before the Fae cast him out. He remains exiled until this day. He was banished for running cons and swindling magic off the upper crust

Garrus is an incredible guy. He greeted us at the door with hugs and even gave Hänsel a kiss.

Hänsel was weirded out, to say the least, but he got over it.

The bar is dimly lit. We’re both sitting on wooden chairs at a table in the far back enjoying our drinks.

I lean back in my chair while flipping through a magazine I bought at the airport. As we’re waiting for Nik and Katherine to arrive. Nighthunters.

Nighthunters are as the name is already giving away hunters. They hunt all supernaturals. Just like Hänsel and I. Though we don’t call ourselves Nighthunters. We’re simply known as Hänsel & Gretel.

“I missed New Orleans,“ I say while I devour a beignet. Sighing in pure contentment. Oh my god. I could eat beignets every single day. Sugary goodness.

Hänsel scoffs and squats away at a mosquito.

“Yeah. The mosquitos. The heat. Real great,“ he says.

I take an apple I bought from a vendor earlier and hand it to Hänsel.

“Don’t be a downer. Here have an apple,“ I say.

He looks at the apple suspiciously.

”It’s not the snow white effect. Just take the apple,“ I say and offer it to him.

“Thank you loveliest sister of mine,“ he says through a bite.

I sigh.

“Shut up and eat,“ I flip to another page without looking up.

“Geez. You compliment a woman and she almost beats you over the head with it. Women are mysterious,“ he’s finished the apple. All that’s left is the core.

I give him a stare and smile softly.

“That’s because you haven’t figured us out yet dearest brother of mine,“ I wink and he rolls his eyes at me.

“Whatever,“ he replies and I chuckle in response.

I’m going through the magazine. An article about a DIY foaming face mask catches my attention while I’m listening with one ear to Hänsel’s ramblings.

I notice Hänsel stopped talking and walked over to the bar to talk to a woman who was sipping on her mimosa and I roll my eyes at him.

The chair that’s been occupied by Hänsel mere seconds ago is now seating a different person.

Nik Ryder himself. His blond hair was held back by gel and his blue eyes sparkling like the deep blue sea stare back at me.

He smirks and I put the magazine down on the wooden table.

“Funny meeting you here,“ he says and leans back in his chair, his legs stretched out and his leather jacket billowing behind him as if a soft breeze swirled it back.

I laugh.

“In New Orleans? What are the off chances of that? Hmm,“ I keep smiling.

He laughs.

“Bitch,“ he says.

“Jerk,“ I reply in turn and we both share a laugh.

He clasps my hand as a way of greeting me.

“It’s good to see you again,“ he smiles warmly.

“Likewise. I wish it was under different circumstances though,“ I say.

Meaning the missing person case that’s brought both me and Hänsel to New Orleans.

His smile dims.

“You and me both. As to the case, I don’t have much to tell you. Actually, make that nothing at all. I did grill the police but they don’t have anything. Or they don’t want to tell me. Which is worrisome,“ he says.

“I was afraid you’d say that,“ my shoulders sag. I was hoping he could dig up something.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t deliver better news,“ Nik smiles sadly at me.

He said just that when he was joined by a beautiful-looking woman.

Dressed from head to toe in black leather. Her dark wavy hair adorned her soft face. Her slightly darker skin tone is flawless. Her amber brown eyes glow as if from deep within.

She smiles at us and takes a sip of my drink.

“Good seeing you in one piece Gret,“ she says and her whiskey brown eyes sparkle.

I grin.

“You too Katie,“ I say because I can’t resist riling her up a bit.

She sighs and looks at Nik.

“See what you did? Now everyone calls me Katie. No one’s going to take me seriously with that name,“ she takes another sip.

I smile at her and say.

“We love you that’s why we call you Katie,“ I say.

She groans.

“Small children are called Katie. I’m a grown-ass woman,“ she says matter-of-factly.

Hänsel leans over her shoulder.

“A good-looking one at that,“ he says and she swats him away like a fly.

“And you just got more annoying,“ she says chuckling.

Hänsel gasps in shock.

“Pie-boy is getting roasted. I knew something was missing,“ Nik says grinning.

Hänsel cracks his knuckles.

“Bite me blondie,“ Hänsel says.

Niks grin widens and he just smiles at my brother.

“I’m afraid you’re not my type,“ he winks.

Katie looks between the guys and says.

“If you could stop your little pissing match. Maybe we could turn to more important matters?“ she says and pulls out a dark purple leather-bound notebook.

She’s jotting something down and I furrow my brow at her.

Nik notices my gaze and explains.

“Her way of keeping track of things,“ he says and I nod.

Katie looks up.

“This way I have everything I need. I don’t think I’m of much help regarding your case, but I can keep my ears to the ground. If I hear anything I’ll let you know,“ she says and closes her notebook, and puts it back in her bag. One I haven’t noticed before.

I sigh deeply.

“Why has the police not opened up an investigation? I mean it’s not just one person. We’re talking about at least a dozen people here. Don’t they think that’s suspicious?“ I ask around the table.

Both Nik and Katie share a long look. Silently communicating.

“What was that look?“ I point with my index finger between them.

Nik rubs his neck as if he’s embarrassed for some reason. A tinge of pink showed in his high-cheek bones.

“The police have a tight budget. When they learned about the disappearances they saw it was mostly homeless people. They didn’t think it was worth investigating. Spending money they don’t have on a case that’s probably going to lead nowhere? Yeah, not happening,“ he says with a frustrated gaze.

I’m about to get up when I feel Katherine’s hand on my own.

“I know how you feel. Trust me. We don’t like it any more than you do. However, just because the police can’t help, doesn’t mean we can’t. We can combine our strengths to solve this case,“ she says.

That’s when I remember Vera Reimonenq. Our mutual friend who has the Reimonenq touch. By touching someone with her bare hands, the basic outcome is death. She hasn’t learned to control her powers as her mother has. That’s also the reason why she wears gloves. At all times. You will never catch her without them.

Though Vera might have some ideas. She knows New Orleans better than anyone. Her family dates back generations. Vera’s great-great-grandfather, Derek Reimonenq murdered a coven of witches and their families, the witches in turn cursed the Reimonenqs. The curse prevents anyone in Vera’s family to touch anyone with their bare hands. Otherwise, the person they touch will die.

Vera’s mother who is also known as Lady Smoke is running the underworld. She’s got to know something.

That’s why I ask Nik and Katie.

“What about Vera?“

Nik already shakes his head.

“Vera and her mother are on some sort of trip. Looking for an artifact. No idea what though. They didn’t exactly provide us with any details,“ he says and shrugs.

I humm.

Katie looks intently at the door and whispers.

“There might be someone we could ask,“ she says.

“Who?“ I ask curiously.

Katie bites down on her lower lip.

“He’s known as The Shadow,“ she whispers.

Nik is shaking his head wildly at Katie.

“Are you crazy? He’s dangerous. It’s better to not get him involved,“ his lips pressed into a firm line.

Katie raises an eyebrow.

“What are our options?“ she asks and when Nik doesn’t reply she continues “Just because you butted heads a few times doesn’t mean he won’t be able to help us out,“ she says finishing off my drink.

“It’s still a no,“ Nik says.

Hänsel and I look between them.

“Sorry to interrupt your little love fest squabble but who are we talking about?“ I ask.

Katie turns to me with a serious look in her chestnut brown eyes.

“As I said. He’s called The Shadow…“ she doesn’t get to finish her sentence when someone loudly clears their throat.

We all look up and see Garrus. Who is pointing towards the back room of the bar with his head, indicating we should go to the back of the bar.

We all stand up and silently follow Garrus to the back of the bar.

When we’re safely inside Garrus loses the door and takes a look at each of us.

“You should be careful when you talk about him. He’s the most cunning supernatural I’ve ever met,“ he says.

Katie holds up her hands and stares at Garrus.

“Wait a minute. You guys met? When? And how come you didn’t say anything?“

Garrus sighs from deep within.

“Well, I swore an oath to not talk about it. This is as far as I can go,“ he admits. Fae love a good deal. Always making up their own little loopholes, that’s why you’ve got to be very careful when you make a deal with the Fae.

I hold up a hand.

“Well, Hänsel and I still don’t know who that is,“ I say more confused than ever.

Garrus’s ice-blue gaze holds my own hazel one.

“That’s because there’s not much to be known about him. He’s called The Shadow and he’s hard to find. But trust me when I say if he wants to find you? He will,“ he says.

Why does that excite me for some reason? Get your head out of the gutter Gretel. We’re here to solve a case and not get wild in the sheets with some Fae guy.

“Then let’s go find him. Hänsel you coming?“ I ask my brother.

Hänsel looks over at me and slowly retreats back to the door.

“Yeah. No. I know that look. I’m not helping you streak through the dark looking for trouble. That sounds like way too much work for my taste. And I’d rather spend some time with those nymph twins I saw earlier. I think I’m going to choose option number two and have some fun,“ he says.

“Seriously Hänsel? Can you for once in your life focus and think with your head and not with your dick?“

Everyone’s laughs turn into coughs when Hänsel gives them a look.

“You haven’t changed a bit pie-boy,“ Nik shakes with laughter.

Hänsel just looks at him.

“A) That’s really rude. B) That’s not true and C) Stop calling me pie boy,“ he says.

While Hänsel mutters to himself and walks out of the bar.

I sigh.

“I’m sorry about my brother. He’s usually not like that,“ I say to everyone else.

Nik turns serious.

“About The Shadow. He’s dangerous…“

I snort.

“As opposed to what? All the other supernaturals that are roaming the night?“

“He’s Fae. That of itself is dangerous,“ he quickly looks at Garrus.

“No offense man,“ he seems apologetic.

“It’s all good,“ Garrus replies.

“Does anyone else want to tag along?“ I ask around.

Katie and Nik both look at me and I know they won’t be able to help. I sigh.

“I wish I could but Nikki and I have a little project we’re working on. So we’ll be out of town for a few days,“ she says and Nik nods in agreement, but turns back and gives me a key.

“It’s the key to my place. You and Hänsel can crash there if you want,“ with those words he’s gone before I can even mutter a thank you. I smile to myself.

Now it’s just me and Garrus.

When the silence stretches on for too long I can see him giving me a long look before he wriggles his finger and tells me to follow him inside the bar.

I sit down on one of the bar stools and he begins wiping down the counter.

“Alright my little butterfly. What do you want to know?“ he asks and puts some dirty dishes into the sink.

“What do you know about that Fae?“ I ask leaning my elbows on the counter of the bar. I’m not sugarcoating things. Getting straight to business.

He dries a plate with a dish towel that was draped over his shoulder.

I lean closer to him to catch everything he has to say.

“I know his name is Grey. He and his little group of misfits collect from the highest bidder.“

I lean back and think about that for a few seconds.

“Doing what? Collecting artifacts? Sounds like the job of a bounty hunter to me,“ I look at him closely, but his face doesn’t reveal anything.

Garrus smiles at me.

“They collect anything and anyone. Making deals left and right. Anyone who’ll hire them, they’ll accept. The last thing I heard was they collected a rare gem. Made by Fae hands. I don’t know all the details. All I know is it’s pretty rare and priceless. Be careful when you go looking for him. You shouldn’t underestimate him,“ there’s a warning laced in his tone.

“I’ve dealt with worse,“ I say.

Garrus looks left and right. As if scared he would be overheard.

“That might be true rose petal. But you have never met a guy like him,“ he says done with cleaning and drying dishes.

I furrow my brow.

“Why is everyone so scared of him?“ I ask in wonderment.

“Because he moves like a shadow. You never see him coming. Others said that his beauty is out of this world. Making you do anything for him,“ he says pointedly.

“That sounds more like someone’s got a crush on him and hasn’t gotten laid in a while,“ I say.

He breaks out into laughter. After he recovered he hands me a shot glass. Shimmering with a blue opal-like liquid. It almost looks as if the liquid is swirling inside the shot glass.

“A little something on the house…“ he says.

I knock it back and smile at him while I leave the bar.

I’m almost out the door when his voice stops me.

“One other thing. Be careful little tulip,“ are his departing words.

I nod and then I’m out in the middle of the busy street. Right in the middle of the French Quarter.

The sun is slowly sinking and making way for the night. I’ve never liked the night. Daylight is my preferred time of day thank you very much.

The longer I walk the later it gets.

I’m walking through the French Quarter. Past busy bars that are open and bursting with partygoers.

All I encounter are drunken people and others looking for a hookup.

The deeper I move into the quieter parts of the city the less noise I hear. It’s as if all the noise from before got sucked out. The pale moonlight illuminated my way ahead. The soft taps of hooves moving past me on the cobblestones make me look to my right.

A white, open carriage is passing me by. An elderly couple is sitting and chatting animatedly inside.

The man manning the carriage taps his top hat slightly and smiles warmly at me as he moves past me. I smile and wave back at him.

A sudden gust of wind is blowing, making me shiver in my green leather coat. I walk by a dark alley, feeling as if my eyes are watching my every move.

Before I can even get my dagger out an arm jots out and grips me only to pin me against the brick wall in a nearby alley. The air leaves my body from the hard throw at the wall.

I look up and see a tall, hooded figure standing in front of me. Almost being one with the shadows.

“Why do you keep asking questions about me?“ he asks in a deep voice.

When I don’t answer he leans in closer.

”Stop following me!“ He says.

I try to break free of his grip. But it’s as if I was being held by steel. I can’t move an inch.

“I’m not following you. I’m looking for someone. You happened to be here,“ I retort.

He loses his grip and I can breathe a little easier again.

“Maybe the person you’re looking for doesn’t want to be found. Ever thought of that?“ he asks.

I’m trying to catch a glimpse of his face but he moves so fast through the shadows making it impossible to see anything.

“How do you know who I’m looking for? News flash you can’t order me around. So get out of my way,“ I say through gritted teeth.

He chuckles darkly. A chuckle that sends goosebumps all across my body.

“So we’re doing this the hard way. I really thought we could’ve avoided that,“ he says almost ruefully.

I try and slightly pull away his hood and see his pointy ears.His hair is as pale as moonlight.

He hisses under his breath and the next thing I know a purple haze is covering my eyes.

Then my whole world turns black and I’m out like a light.

#Strange Encounters #Chapter 2 #Nightbound AU vs. Hänsel & Gretel #Gretel van Andresen (F!OC)#Hänsel van Andresen (M!OC)#Grey #Nik Ryder #Garrus #Katherine #Nightbound #cfws

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