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lollybliz · 5 years ago

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bout to make a Monster of a fic rec post here we go

heyo @jinx108! We’ll start with the complete ones because sometimes you’re just not in the mood to wait for the last chapter, you know? I don't remember details of all of these so i’m just going to copy the author’s summary rather than write my own. I am literally just going through my bookmarks, I got 400 of these to sort through. if ive talked to or am familiar with the author im gonna mention them, but if I mention you and you don't want me to have Please tell me and i’ll remove it.

If you’re not into spoilers Please Tread Carefully, I don't watch out for that stuff so I wont know to label it

1>Crushing Truth by Bunzuku: Tododeku. “Romance is hard enough for a teenager to understand when they have a good relationship role model. For Shoto, it takes two excited meddlers for him to even realize what his feelings really are.“

2>Disowned by b00mgh: tododeku + others. Unrated, some traumatic elements. “Shouto freaks out under a bridge and I use the word "grass" a lot more than I really should. Izuku does his stupid martyr thing and everyone makes continuous references to his propensity to break his bones. Aizawa goes "oh FUCK my kids are dying again" and his students use him as emotional (and physical) support. A friend requests angst, I say what kind, she say idk make someone get disowned and i say oh this I can absolutely provide my good buddy.”

3>cotton candy hands by @chonideno: Kiribaku. I will take Any excuse to rec this fic, its the most fluffy pile of feels Good Lord. also the first fic I ever bound into a physical book. “Studying to become a hero requires knowing how to take care of yourself. Sometimes you might need help on the way so if your crush offers to do your hair for you or to give you a well-deserved back rub, it'd be stupid to say no. A series of soft vignettes in which a love-struck Kirishima and a touch-starved Bakugou care for each other and it's definitely not making their hearts jump through hoops, they’re never this close to kissing, no, they're totally best friends bro“

4>Catching Sight of the Storm by neo7v: Kiribaku, tododeku. A considerable amount of Whump and related angst, and kinda sad tbh. “Blind. Quirkless. Useless.The first two things were stated clearly by the doctor that sat about five feet in front of Izuku. The third was a word that Kacchan called him everytime he failed to make the jump on whatever forest excursion they were on or when he ran into a tree because he hadn’t seen it. “I’m so, so sorry, Izuku.” Was his mom giving up on him already? But he could still be a hero if he tried hard enough, right? Quirkless or not. Blind or not. Just because Izuku was useless now didn’t mean he would stay that way forever, right? *** A Blind!Izuku AU”

5>Yell Heah by fakecharliebrown: Chatfic. M a n y pairings. technically complete, but part of an ongoing series. “Iida creates a group-chat for Class 1-A. It doesn't go as planned.“

6>Sunshine by Rosey_Note: BIG SAD. tw- failed suicide attempt. KiriKamiBaku. “They didn't deserve to put up with his crappy mood. Because Denki Kaminari did not feel like Sunshine right now. And they deserved sunshine. In fact, Denki didn't feel much of anything right now.“

7>Electric Connection by Onlymostydead: ShinKami. “Kaminari's quirk has always had... Weird side affects. Like his ADHD. And his constant energy. And his insomnia, which wouldn't leave him be right now, when he really needed to just get some sleep. But, thankfully, he has good friends.“

8>The Best (The Worst) by Onlymostydead: no romantic pairing. tw- rampant transphobia, both outside and internalized. “Bakugou Katsuki has known who he was since he was four years old. He was a boy, it was as simple as that. Around his friends, at school... But things couldn't just be that simple, could they?“

9>Lichtenberg Figures by Q_loves_you: no definite romantic pairing. “Kaminari Denki has a very powerful force of nature running through his body. Kaminari Denki doesn't want to hurt anybody. He doesn't always get what he wants, and "anybody" does generally include himself.“

10>Eventuality by KikaTouka: ill be honest I don't remember this one at all, I maaaay not have read it yet :/. anyway. ShinKami. “Shinsou learns more than just hero lessons after being transferred to 1-A.“

11>Pickup Lines for the Soul by MustardSoup: ShinKami. “Denki is twelve when he is flicking through the TV channels and lands on an old RomCom movie about soulmate marks – specifically the same type that he has. “I can’t believe I’ve had to walk around with a cheap pickup line written on my ankle my entire life because of you!” The leading lady yells at the leading man as he stares at her in awe. Denki laughs. “Oh no.” His mother says, watching him. “Oh no, indeed.” His sister repeats quietly.“

12>caught in my own web by @anxioussailorsoldier: ShinKami. “Shinsou needs some help after getting caught up in his capture weapon. Kaminari enters from stage left.“

13>not so summer love by nataliya: ShinKami. “Class 2-B’s common room, although typically quiet, was currently filled with five students—three slowly giving up on homework, one bitching about noise and another that rushes through the front door. “We’ve been waiting for you—” Mina starts, but Kaminari’s vaulting over the back of the couch, eyes wide as he practically buzzes out of his skin, emitting light like crazy as currents dazzle across strands of hair. “I have a big ugly crush,” He steps off the couch and onto the coffee table, much to Bakugou’s chagrin, “On big ugly Shinsou.””

14>Blamed by coldandhotsoba: ShinKami. Tw- they fuckin kill a guy and its a lil nasty. “This was not how the day was supposed to end. They were supposed to end the day like they do most nights. Kaminari clutching onto him like a koala as he slept, wrapped in the millions of tacky blankets Kaminari had bought. Warm and safe in their bed. It was not supposed to end with both of them tied up in some cold metal room.“

15>Lightning Scars by Present-Mics-Scream (write_your_way_out): Shinkami. “It's hard to be confident in your abilities when you're surrounded by people with incredible quirks. Shinsou Hitoshi would know better than anyone. Sure, he was admitted to the hero course in his second year, but being admitted to the hero course, and keeping up with the rest of the class are two different things. Lucky for him, Kaminari is there to prove that the flashiest quirks come with the largest drawbacks.“

16>See No Evil, Hear No Evil by randomfan188: no romantic pairing. “Kaminari Denki is legally blind. When he forgets to wear his contacts and breaks down during math class, comfort appears in the strangest of ways.“

17>how not to enjoy the weather, an article by kaminari denki by dreamtowns: no defined romantic pairing. “If there was one thing Kaminari hated the most in a world wth villains, it would have to be thunderstorms.“

18>”Studying” by emmyrox22: ShinKami, EraserMic. “Shinsou and Kaminari have been “studying” together for a while (but not for school). Shinsou gets stopped by his dads on the way to another “study” session and mistakes are made“

19>Weaknesses by sunflowerstorm: ShinKami. “Kaminari's quirk and storms compliment each other in the worst way, but he's convinced he can deal with it on his own... until he really can't any longer. When Shinsou accidentally overhears Aizawa confronting Kaminari about recent changes in behaviour and hears about the hell his quirks been putting him through, he can't just pretend he never heard. He wants to help.“

20>it’s hurt denki hours by memeingfultrash: ShinKami + others. ““Certain members of our class are...under the impression that...you’re the traitor.” Denki’s body went cold and felt like he was going to short circuit. ~some of class 1a believes that denki is the traitor and avoid him”

21>Petition to replace Mineta with Shinsou- (signed by Kaminari Denki) by CharaTheQuartz: ShinKami + others. This is one of my favorites, I go back to reread it from time to time. It SAYS 41/42, but that's just a glitch cus chapter 36 doesn't exist for some reason, I talked to the author about it and its fine. “Mineta brings shame to the color purple. You know who does not bring shame to the rich color, but pride and sexual tension to one infatuated Kaminari Denki instead? Shinsou Hitoshi, aka sexy zombie man, aka the most perfect hunk of a man to walk planet earth, aka future husband. Shinsou has finally gotten his chance to prove himself to the hero course, and he did more than prove himself. The only question left unanswered is whether he will start in A or B, and how Kaminari can manipulate the end result.“

22>How to Get a Boyfriend (in Four Easy Steps!) by e1ana: ShinKami, EraserMic, + others. “Step 1: Get kicked out of the house by your homophobic parents. Step 2: Run headfirst into your brooding, mysterious crush. Step 3: Sleep in his dad’s (see: your homeroom teacher) house Step 4: Watch everything you thought you knew go to shit. This isn’t exactly the sweet, romantic plan that Kaminari Denki longed for. Will everything be ok, or will step 5 be to crash and burn?“

23>Bakugou and Todoroki’s Foolproof 5-Step Plan to Fuck with Mineta Minoru by Anubis_2701: Kiribaku, TodoDeku, + others. This is another one of my favorites, and the one I am currently folding and sewing into a physical book. you learn how to do funny things when bored and quarantined ig. “It was a simple enough idea; screw around with the resident bastard of Class 1-A to let him know that his medieval ways and perverted behaviour weren't going to be tolerated by even the most career-focused of UA's students. To say that things had snowballed was an understatement. Todoroki had no idea how he had ended up sitting on Bakugou's floor at 1 am, holding a dossier of incriminating material that would make the FBI slobber, but he wasn't sure he wanted to know. The long and short of it was, fuck Mineta.”

24>Colour Theory by chancellorxofxtrash: TodoBakuDeku. this one’s a series. “Midoriya/Bakugo/Todoroki slow burn soulmate AU. All three of them are nerds with their own emotional issues, trying to navigate their way through becoming heroes, and their own relationship with each other.“

25>Summer Sunshine by Mara97: TodoDeku. Ever want a Barbie in a mermaid tale/Bnha crossover? No? well here you go anyway! “Instead of worrying about college, Izuku spends his summer vacation finding out his father is, supposedly, a dead merman king and going on a quest to dethrone the current king, Endeavor. Along the way, Izuku becomes close to the three journeying with him, makes friends with strangers, starts crushing on an unattainable prince, and, in the end, learns to love himself. Oh, and he saves a kingdom, too.“

26>The snowflakes on our skin and the flames in our soul are one (and the same), my love by missunderstuffyou: TodoDeku, Kiribaku. this is one of the ones I keep a running reread comment going on. its at,,, 6, atm. “Before your quirk begins to present itself, the soulmate link comes through, and suddenly whatever you write upon your own skin appears on the body of your soulmate. As your soulmate writes to you, the emotions they feel follow through the ink.Izuku Midoriya is four years and a few months old when he first feels the slight ebbing in his arms. It doesn’t hurt… he can just feel something, and it’s enough to make him sprint into his mother’s arms screaming that his quirk is coming. She had been washing in the kitchen, and the sudden screech as her son rockets into her side is enough to make her jump with panic, immediately grabbing at him and looking for cuts and bumps before she understands his words and the stupidly bright, alight smile on his face with large, watery, hopeful eyes. Shoto Todoroki doesn’t feel his soulmate connection open up. It is drowned in the aches of a small body worked far too hard.“

27>It was dark inside the closet by Chad_Champion69420: Pre-ShinDeku? maybe? its tagged shindeku but like. it’ll make sense if you read it. “Midoriya is invited to a party. He and Shinsou decide to play a little trick on the rest of the party during Seven Minutes in Heaven.”

28>how to woo your local trash gremlin: a comprehensive guide by Todoroki shouto by wonhaebunny: TodoBaku. this is the fic that dragged me into todobaku, fun fact. “five times shouto tries to confess to bakugou, and one time he doesn't bother tryingaka: wikihow is a scam and bakugou is a terrible, terrible boy“

29>top ten photos taken right before disaster by Shookspeare: ShinDeku. “Izuku participates in a harmless prank, only to end up ruining it and running for dear life.“

30>Secrets to Share by pechebaie: no definite romantic pairing. “Kirishima comes out first, and nothing changes. Kirishima and Kaminari still hang out to complain about class and talk about boys - and sometimes girls, too, in Kaminari’s case; he still plans stupid pranks with Sero that get them sent to the principal’s or nurse’s office every time; Ashido still kicks his ass at Mario Kart without hesitation; and Bakugou doesn’t get angry at him any more than he usually does.“

31>What One Hides by Pinalinet: TodoDeku. “All Might gives class 1-A an unusual assignment that results in Midoriya Izuku and Todoroki Shouto attending a weekly acting class. But with a mysterious villain targeting individuals without Quirks, and a developing issue of Todoroki's own, an after-school assignment is the least of their worries.“

32>whether or not we’re fated, we’re meant to be by juurensha: KINDA SPOILERY. TodoDeku + others. “Todoroki didn’t have a soulmark for most of his life.His siblings all did, but up until the day of the U.A. entrance exam, he had shoved the idea aside. It’s not like they could help him anyway. And then a 9 appears on his chest, and a green-haired boy barrels into his life with a fire and ice soulmark on his arms, and suddenly Todoroki cares very much about all this could mean.”

33>The Midnight Shift by meiishu @meiishu @totallytodoroki (idk which you’d rather I attach so I went with both): ShinKami. ““Hey Toshi,” Denki says, and he laughs, clearly embarrassed. He’s got on a jean jacket that did him absolutely no help and a white tee shirt that is currently stuck to his torso. It’s got a pikachu design in the center. “By any chance, do you sell umbrellas?” “You really went out in this weather.” Hitoshi deadpans, instead of dignifying that with an answer. or hitoshi works the midnight shift at the gas station, which also doubles as a pokestop for pokemon go. of course, denki is a regular.”

34>Rock the House by AkabaneKayo: ShinKami. “It wasn’t just his bed. It was his entire fucking room shaking. Only one thought crossed his mind at that moment: “Holy shit. My room is haunted.”“

35>Technically, they’re morning kisses by CharaTheQuartz: ShinKami. “Most nights, Shinsou cannot fall sleep. Neither can Kaminari. It seems counterproductive to have a sleepover then, but they try to make it work. And they fail, but that is okay.“

36>someone to call mine by nearly_theyre: ShinKami, EraserMic “From: Me wish you were here, denks From: kitten 💛💘💛 what if i was tho? OR Four times Denki snuck into Hitoshi's room and one time he walked through the front door.“

37>Pretty by Onlymostydead (noticing some repeat authors? me too): no definite romantic pairing. “(Or, Kaminari still can't figure out bra clasps.) Kaminari has never really felt good about himself. Herself? Whichever way, not knowing doesn't make anything easier. Especially when he (she?) and Mina have their bodies swapped during training, and everything seems too right.“

38>If I offer you my hand, will you take it? by bleukitsune: Kiribaku. SPOILERY. ““Why?” Kirishima leaned back on his hands, trying to create some space between them. Too close. The ash-blond looked really nervous, his usually arrogant and cunning demeanor gone. “What do you see when you look at me? Kirishima is worried. Bakugou is hurting. After his confrontation with Midoriya, he finally reaches out to him. “

Theres way more but I haven't tagged them properly yet so that m a y come later if I can ever finish going through and adding my sorting tags.

and then a last few that Are Not Complete but im really very fond of them. not as many as id like to add, but my hands are getting tired tbh.

39>State of Mind by GuardianOfTheLoaf: no relationship YET but its looking like it’ll be either tododeku or shindeku, probably the former. EraserMic. tw- childhood neglect and severe depression. Izuku’s not a happy kid. “Izuku was a late bloomer, his quirk lying dormant until his tenth birthday when in a fit of emotion he grabs his mother and she disappears. With All Might slowly restoring his confidence Izuku begins the difficult journey into becoming a hero.“ 18/? chapters.

40>Izuku Eats His Problems by CosmicAce: ShinDeku. Izuku’s a flerkin, what more could you want? “His whole life, Izuku Midoriya was taught to keep his powers, his Quirk, hidden from the world. His kind were feared, hunted to near extinction because of it. He just wants to show people he’s different. That he can be a HERO. And nothing is going to stop him. Even if his Quirk IS like an eldritch abomination.“ 43/? chapters

and then probably my current favorite bnha fic- although it fights with Apertum Mortem for that spot but that ones d a r k and not here-

41>family of the year by periiwren: EraserMic. “Hitoshi is done. Done with moving around every few months to a couple that will scrutinize him and eventually dump him right back where he started. Good thing he’s well past his strike limit now- at least he can stay in one place, be content to age out of the system and finish out his training with Aizawa. Maybe transfer into the hero course, maybe be a hero- but none of that was guaranteed. The only thing for sure was that he was going to stay in that center for the rest of his childhood. Or so he thought- because Aizawa Shouta and Yamada Hizashi have other plans.“ 24/? chapters. we’ve been informed that this one’s gonne be l o n g and im Very Grateful.

42>Here There Be Dragons by here_and_there: pre-ShinDeku. “Izuku looked at the small circle Aizawa had motioned to in front of them. "I won't fit," he whispered, thinking. He raised his hand, tentatively. Sighing, Aizawa grumbled, "What?" "I-I have a question. Actually, two." His teacher just stared at him, unimpressed. Izuku continued. "Can we activate our quirks before we step into the ring?" Aizawa looked up into the sky, muttering something Izuku didn't hear. "If you must." "O-Okay. Uh, second question. You said we have to stay inside the circle, right?" "Yes." The man looked disappointed, not only in Izuku but in himself for letting the kid speak. "Great. Uh... does that include tails?"“ 6/? chapters.

43>Another Option by sandersonsister: TodoBakuDeku, Touya/Hawks, Dabi/Hawks. Potentially Spoilery, depends on whether horikoshi has the guts to confirm Touya. this one is waiting around the corner with a baseball bat, its really cute, and then r e a l l y painful. it might be getting better though. maybe. it might be getting worse. “When Touya stops his mother from hurting Shouto, he decides enough is enough. He needs to get out of this house and he's taking his baby brother with him.“ 33/? chapters.

That's it i’m done for now, oof. maybe ill edit more onto this post later, maybe i’ll just make another one. hope some of these work!

#fic rec #bnha #mha #tododeku #todobakudeku #kiribaku #shinkami #shindeku #erasermic #To Be Continued

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nthrr · 5 years ago

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A Second Chance

Summary: 'Who are you?' He wanted to know, know every single thing about her, things that one shouldn't want to know about a person who holds a gun on them. A second chance at love for the ones that were robbed of it.

It had been days since he had had a good nights sleep free from dreams. He didn't know why but since his childhood he had dreams that had followed the same theme. A world full of fantasy, honour and war. In his childhood those dreams seemed like an entry into the unknown, a world full of wonders and action that a little boy thoroughly enjoyed and embraced. But as he had grown older, had gotten better at understanding the world around himself , the dreams changed, their meanings changed. Cheerful laughter and abundance of love that shone through the dreams changed. The first time he experienced a life leaving its body through his own hands, he was fourteen. Waking up screaming he had thoroughly frightened his parents. Chalking it up to nightmares didn't seem to work in their household because once is a chance, twice is a coincidence but repeatedly for past how many ever years that he had started speaking from, explaining to his parents a world from history books that they attributed to his imagination, that had frightened them. A slew of doctors came and went, medicines consumed but the dreams didn't seem to stop. He stopped taking those medicines when he had accidentally overdosed due to him being delirious with not having slept in three days. It was a great fight with his parents but slowly he had them accept that those medicines were not improving him at all. Turning to yoga and meditation brought him a sense of calm but those dreams, those dreams where he was an royal, the feeling of a sword slicing the air around him, an all encompassing feeling of motherly love and devotion , the feeling of complete content and happiness as if he had found his soulmate, they never left and to tell the truth , he would rather have them along with sleepless nights with nightmares than do without them.

Inspite of all this he had an loving childhood, and a promising career. His family owns the prestigious Mahismathi Industries, a pioneer in the field of technology. Being the only heir apparent of MI , his life and future is set. But the thirst of knowledge and the fire to prove that he deserves the position made him an overachiever in his studies and in the work he started doing for MI. His parents seem to be happy that he is thriving despite his struggles in mental health and that has lead to what is now a big problem for him. Marriage. The thing he totally despises. Don't get him wrong he has no qualms about love, and he had gone on dates and had a few one night stands. But marriage is different. It's a partnership more than anything else. What was he to say to his future wife, that he has recurring dreams and nightmares and that he'll wake up screaming somedays, babble in a strange language on others, sometimes wake up kicking and punching so would you please learn some self defense or sorry we cant sleep in the same bed. Or should he say I'll try to love you but sorry I think I can't because I already love someone, oh it's just someone I dream of regularly, and no she's not real, yes I'm pretty sure, no I would not like an admittance to a mental hospital thanks. He would be really glad when this marriage talk comes to an end.

He prays for this recent bout of sleeplessness to end , he is getting sick of his own growchiness. Hearing his alarm blare out he groans and covers himself with his sheets willing the world to just disappear away. A few minutes later hearing the second alarm go off he huffs before throwing away his sheets and stumbles to the bathroom. He considers calling in sick for a few moments after he sees his reflection in the mirror, he really looks like a zombie, but then he curses himself for his very own good work ethics. Besides the vultures at the company would swoop in at just a peak of a mistake to point and complain. It was getting ridiculous, he was only in a mid management position now, both him and his parents agreeing that he should start low at the food chain, getting an experience at different levels in the company. But some people at the board still try to sabotage him at every turn. The thing was they knew his place at the top is cemented but they still try at every chance they get. He could even appreciate the ones that go about it in a clever way, because they could be useful for him in the long term but those stupid ones, he just doesn't know what to do about them.

Cursing the board members mentally, he got ready and hurried out of his house hoping he won't be late. Just as he was about to start the car his cellphone went off. Seeing that it was his mother calling and wondering she would at this time of the day he answered the call,

'Amma, good morning, why are you calling this early, any problem?' He inquired.

'Amar, good morning my son, did you sleep well'

'Ya ma, got some sleep , what's the matter , is everything ok?' It wasnt like his mother to call him in the early hours of the day. This call was making him a bit worried.

'Yes, good, everything is fine, don't worry and stop being a pessimist '

'Tell that to my mother who calls early in the morning to a son who she's going to see probably in an hour or so' he countered back.

'Stop sassing me, lord knows I get enough of that from your father and stop chuckling, like father like son', He tries vainly to cover his laughs. Like father, as if, he hasn't seen anyone in his life actually verbally spar with his mother and come out unscathed.

'Ok ok sorry, I'm stopping so why did you call' If he doesn't stop his mother now he would still be getting told off an hour from now.

'Oh that, I just wanted to ask you to collect a package from Ragupathy uncle on the way. Its the family heirloom from Andhra that got lost and was got back in an auction, uncle has it and he said he would deliver it personally, but it seems he has an urgent business meeting coming up and wont be able to come by so he asked me to send you by to pick it up'

'Cant you ask someone else ma, I'm getting pretty late, and if it really has to be me I can even pick it up in the evening' he tries.

'Amarnath, didn't I already say your uncle is going away on a business trip , and no I cant send anyone else because it's a family heirloom and it costs twenty two millions. And how many times do I have to say you are the boss of MI and you are allowed to be late sometimes. '

'Cool down cool down, dont get tensed, your blood pressure is already high, I'll go ok, and i really shouldn't be late even when I'm the boss' This was an age old argument in their home and today wasnt the day that it was going to be resolved.

'Really cant change you dear, but that is also why you are the heir to MI and your cousin Balla is not'

'Dont you get started on him now amma, and got to go now if I'm getting your package too along the way '

'Dont grumble too much will you, doesn't suit you'

'Ok amma got to go bye'

'Hmm , drive safely dear , bye'.

Ending the call with his mother , he started the car and turned it towards his uncle's home. Arriving in under twenty minutes, he rushed to the door and rang the bell. The door opened to reveal panja aunty a maid in his uncles home who welcomed him warmly. Asking for his uncle he was directed to the study in the upper floor. Knocking on the door and entering he found his uncle rushing around trying to fit as many things as he could in the bag of his.

'Amarnath, thank you my son for coming so quickly , I really didn't know who to trust with such an important piece of item. Thank God you're here'

'Its no problem uncle, mom said you have an antique piece for her?'he ended it as a question, trying not to let his frustrations show about how late it was getting.

Giving a confirmation his uncle went to the safe in the corner and brought an ornately carved box about the size of a shoe box.

'Take great care of this Amar, this thing does not only contain our family's money but also our history and legacy. Be careful will you?'

'I'll be careful uncle, it's already 7 isn't your flight at 7.30'

'Yes , yes I'll go , dont want to make you late' his uncle finished with a laugh. His entire family knew what a workaholic he was and took great pleasure in teasing him at any given chance.

Seeing his uncle off , he secured the package carefully in the trunk so that it wont jolst too much on the drive and started the car. It was a solid hour travel to his office from his uncle's home and he wanted to shave off whatever minutes he could so he took the smaller streets that wound through the city rather than the highway.

Later he would wish he had paid more attention to the road and to the car that was tailing him rather than speeding. But it had brought him to her and he wouldn't want it any other way.

It was halfway through, on a stretch of road that had sporadically placed houses and rather bare in terms of human activity that it happened. It wasn't that he wasn't paying attention to the road but when he noticed a man laying on the ground with his bike toppled over it was difficult to stop with the way he was speeding. He didn't think he had hit the stranger but it really was too close for his comfort. Berating himself and lamenting the consequences for his momentary lapse in judgement he hurried out of the car to check on the stranger.

It really had been a close call, he observed, if he had been even a second late in applying the breaks , the man would have died and he would have become a murderer. Walking over to the man on the ground he saw no evidence of bleeding , which was good. Crouching down , he laid his fingers to the man's neck to check for his pulse. Noticing that he had a good , strong pulse, he started to try to wake the man. With no amount of him trying getting any results, he decided to call the ambulance.

As concerned with the stranger as he was, he hadn't heard the scuffles coming from behind his car. But a strange loud thud from the near vicinity of his car startled him from his position. More wary now than he had been before , he tried to get up and check what the noise had been about. But before he could even stand fully, he was grabbed by the ankles and pushed to the ground. With his winds knocked out and reasonably confused he saw the man on the ground get up grinning. With a dawning sense of realisation coming upon him he turned his attention to the car to see four men with clothes tied over their faces trying to force open the trunk. He realised It had been a ploy to get him off the car.

It took him longer than he would be willing to admit, to get sense of the situation. Three by the car, forcefully trying to open the trunk, and an another who had tricked him, who now that he focused was swinging his leg back to deliver a kick. The kick landed hard on his abdomen knocking his breath out. Pain for many would cloud their senses but for him it sharpend them. When the next kick contacted with his abdomen he held on to the leg and pulled. Bringing down his assailant he crouched on the top of him and delivered a swift punch to his face. With the following two more the man was knocked out cold. Suddenly hands grappled on the back of his shirt pulling him away from the man. Allowing his weight to freefall on the assailant he got away from the hold and faced his three opponents. Breathing in and out and centering his mind he got into a battle stance.

In his childhood while other children opted for sports or games Amar was always fascinated by martial arts. After much cajoling to his parents he joined them, and never looked back. Fighting came easy to him, he raised through the ranks and joined even more different types of martial arts classes. It gave him peace and happiness that couldn't be found in his life plenty. So this situation of him facing three goons that seemed to be amateurs at best did not panic him as it would any other. They came at him from all sides, trying to overpower him , but he side steps and fights. The fight finishes in mere minutes. Panting heavily he carefully notes what he could about these thugs. From the way they way laid him and opened his car without any power tools he could tell they were well accomplished thieves, but their fighting left a lot to be desired. They weren't fighters , just thieves, good ones but just thieves .

A sudden feeling of a cold hardness pressed against his skull brought him up from his thoughts. With the realisation dawning on him he scolded himself for not checking up on the other thug he knocked out at the start. The gun pressed against him trembled making him more nervous that that idiot would shoot him without even meaning to. Seeing that he had not been shot at already he tried talking to the man who had his life in his hands. 'Listen buddy, there's no need for weapons here. Lower your gun and I'll let you guys go without even letting the police involved. But if you shoot and then got caught it would be life sentence for you. Your whole life would be behing the bars. Think that through. Put your gun away and I'll let you take your guys away. '

The gun pressing even harder against his head made him stop . The hand that was trembling till now steadied. The gun pressed firmly against the back of his head steadied. The click of the guns safety rang across the empty road sounding to him as if it was the conch sounding at his funeral. The safety had been on before , he could have tried to escape but there was no use lamenting about things that could have been. He knew in a few moments he would be no more. As many say, his whole life did not flash before his eyes , but his dreams did. Times he was happy and content in his dreams came to the forefront of his mind. He could totally ignore the gun behind him and he could go out with thoughts that made him smile. More than the fear of death , the wait for when the bullet will tear through him was what scared him. In the silence that made even death noisy , he heard the creak of the trigger being pressed. Then the shot rang through.

The pain he expected was not there, nor was the feeling of either heaven or hell. Slowly opening his eyes which he seemed to have closed , he turned around to see what the hell had happened. There on the ground laid the man who had held a gun to his head , with a bleeding shoulder. The gun laid on the ground and was now being picked up. Following the hand he saw the other held a gun too which seemed to be the source of the shot that he heard. Moving his eyes upwards he stopped short. Because there with guns in her hands, in a plain shirt and pants was the girl he was intimately familiar with. Eyes sharp as razors, beautiful red lips turned into a scowl, a face that shone even when it screamed murderous intent, she was there, every inch a perfect copy of the dreams that he had.

'Deva' his mind whispered, 'Deva'.

He wanted to pinch himself awake but he knew that this was real because even in his dreams he could never get the magnetism that shone off her eyes right, that was being directed at him. He didn't even mind the gun that was now pointed at him, again.

'Who are you , what the hell happend here ' she asked with a voice filled with authority. He found himself smiling hearing her voice. It was just as enchanting as he had always imagined it to be. 'What are you smiling for' she asked again with more force now. His smile had infuriated her.

'Who are you?' He wanted to know, know every single thing about her, things that one shouldn't want to know about a person who holds a gun on them.

'Devika Rajendran , deputy inspector of police , now give me your name or be ready to be dragged off to jail' she stated with a raised eyebrow and a relaxed stance. The confidence that she carried with her, it sent shivers down his spine making him want to needle her so much more, so that he could watch the way she got wound up and let go.

''Amarnath Chandran, software engineer at Mahismathi Industries ' he replied , holding back his true position at MI. He wanted her to look at him as if he was just any other normal guy, not the heir to a multibillion dollar company. It was experience that had him introducing himself as an IT guy rather than his true self. But looking at her he somehow doubted that she would bend down or simper at him. And it was that which made her even more attractive in his eyes.

'Well Mister Amarnath' he cut her off before she could finish the sentence,' its Amar, call me Amar'

If possible she looked even more less impressed by that statement. 'Mister Amarnath, I have to ask you , why was this guy pointing a gun at you' a hint of coldness seeped into her tone.

'I have no idea who these people are , they hijacked my car and tried to steal the antique that i had in my trunk, and trust me no way am i involved in any shady business Devika' and seeing the expression on her face become frostier he hastily added 'Maam, Devika Maam'.

'Cut off the name calling and show me your ID' she neared him and held out her hands.

He didn't know what was going through his mind. It probably was "she's here, she's real" and not "let's go to jail today". His response should have been "sure, let me get it from my car" and not what he said.

'I dont have it on my person at this moment but I could bring it to you by noon today. Your office is at the city headquarters isn't it'

If it had been him at her place , he probably would have done worse than slap the cuffs on his had and dump him in the back of the police jeep with the other thugs. He didn't care much for it, but at least the view was nice, or the back of her that he could see.

It took his mother half an hour to get the news and come to the station with a lawyer to get him out, the time which he spent most enjoyably watching her in her true environment. He seemed to infuriate her, smiling wider every time she managed to catch his look and glare at him. It was good that his mother came when she did or he didn't know what she would have done to him. But as soon as his mother came her entire ire transferred to his mother. Watching both the woman verbally battle he was glad that he wasnt caught in between but he would gladly accept that and more if only she could be in his life. They were two strong women who didn't want to give each other an inch of leeway. Finally Devika stomped towards the holding cell and opened the door with such a force that nobody could mistake her anger for anything else.

But before she could leave he grabbed her wrists making her turn towards him with such an anger in her face. It made him want to go to her and pull her in a tight hug and never let her leave. But he had an apology to deliver. Letting her go he lifted his hands up in an apology.

'I'm sorry I touched you without your permission, I just wanted your attention for a second. I'm sorry that I deceived you, it's my fault. The reason for it is simple. I didn't want to be away from your company just yet. You captivate me Devika, from your confidence to your inner strength that shows just as bright as your beauty, I wanted to spend more time with you. Your strength is beautiful, you are beautiful. Will you please accept my apology as a dinner tonight. Just an apology dinner, nothing else and if you never want to see me again you dont have to'.

Seeing the anger fade away from her face, and a confused look entering in, he smiled.

'Don't need to give me an answer now, tonight 7 PM at Jonas restaurant at the city centre, I'll be waiting, and if you dont show up I'll understand ' leaving the cell he started to walk out of the room and fortunately for him his mother seemed to have left already. Stopping midway he turned back to see her still standing in the same position. 'I don't know what you will decide tonight Devika, but either way have a good life officer'. He turned back and strode out of the room, whatever tonight may bring he was content in a way that he had never been. She may never come looking for him, but knowing that she was real, and that she lived a happy life somewhere was enough for him.

A smirk tugged at his lips, he definitely did notice the blush that stained her cheeks when she was with him.

Thank you @carminavulcana and @mayavanavihariniharini for welcoming me into this wonderful fandom.

Ao3 link

#baahubali #amarendra baahubali #devasena #fan fic

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ladybugg1235 · 5 years ago

Text

Collision part 3

Thorin x you reader

Wow finnaly I finished part 3 of my Collison series and omg it was tough i lost alot of my work and had to redo it an tweak it a bit and try remember what i wrote or rewrite it up some but yay Finnally done lol this may seem like a filler and maybe more movie like direction I just went with it I may change it up in coming chapters not sure yet depends ,when I write I get an idea and just go with it lol I hope y'all like sorry about any mistakes spelling Etc

Recap: "I think that's enough for tonight. We have a long journey ahead of us. We'll discuss this in the morning I'll take first watch" and with that said and one last look at you Thorin turned and perched himself on a slight cliff rock a small ways from company gazing out into the distance .

Well then ... I guess he shut that shit down ..(hehe see what i did there lol )

After thorin made his way to other the side of camp the company simmer down and return to their bed rolls while you just stood there looking like a jackass without a cart to pull staring hard at thorins back.

What the hell just happened ?? You thought

you knew thorin pretty well his story the whole middle earth 411 as far books and movies are concerned but was it enough ? you didn't know for sure how this will play out but needed to be sure you had a place in the company but most of all you wanted thorin to trust and except you .

So What now ..

As you continue to stare at thorin's back you contemplated to go to him or just leave him be til morning hmm decisions decisions... 10 minutes later you made up your mind

"Thorin?" Silence .....ok then

"I don't mean to bug you or anything i know you may want to wait til morning but i was hoping we could talk or you can just listen whatever works"

silence again alrighty then

"I know this is all strange and unusual to you me showing up like this in fact it's just as strange for me but I was hoping that maybe if possible if I could stay I'll pull my own weight I promise I won't get in the way this place is foreign to me yes but I have a big idea about Middle-earth I know it's dangerous and there's no way that I would be able to- you paused what I'm trying to say is if I may I was hoping that I could tag along the thing is I'm stuck here there's no going back to my home in fact as of now I don't have a home and well I just needed to know if I have your permission to stay? Thorin remain silent . okay then this is not awkward at all

"so yeah ok then I'll leave you to it i just want to let you know and all good night" with that said you turned on your heel cursing under your breath feeling like an idiot before you made it to the other side Thorin spoke his words surprising you.

"Y/n" you may stay.. get some rest you'll be riding with me in the morning"

Hmm a man- i mean dwarf of few words ...

With that said you made your way to your bag to set up a place to sleep with big smile on your face maybe this wont be so bad after all ....

I take it back !!!

Three weeks.... three weeks maybe less maybe more you didn't know for sure all you could think was

WHAT THE HELL was I thinking??!!

Go to middle earth the witch said it'll be fun She said the most amazing experience a dream come true .....yeaaah about that..

Amazing is not the word you'd use at this moment..

filthy... that's what you felt and not to mention everything hurt after long rides on horseback ( even though those were not to bad hint riding with thorin just saying)

sleeping on the ground and coming across gigantic stupid trolls and exploring stinky troll cave then talking to a wizard with bird shit in their hair (somebody really needs to tell the guy) now here you are running away from orcs wanting to kill you..... Good times.

Running ( always running ) Hiding behind Boulder after Boulder as the brown wizard tried to lead the orcs away with his cute little band of bunnies (what there stinkin cute ) Gandalf leading the way going one way then going another.

"where are you leading us" thorin said with frustration Gandalf said nothing and continue to lead on the company followed close behind Finally coming to another boulder squeezing you and a bilbo in the middle (conveniently very close to thorin)

This is familiar.....

Thorin gave you a brief look oddly pulling you closer to him as he looked up everyone remained still hearing the warg and orc from above thorin looked to his youngest nephew giving him a nod then Kili took the shot ..

Bullseye!!

After pretty much kicking the shit out of said Warg and orc ( i think it's dead you guys)

More running

As you and the company came to a clearing orcs begin to close in on you and the company "

"Where's Gandalf? "He's abandoned us!!

"Where surrounded" fili added

"Everyone hold your ground!!!" Thorin yelled

than right on time Gandalf appears screaming

"Over here you fools!!" Don't have to tell me twice you thought

You started to run like a mad woman not paying any attention to where you going but to the orcs following close behind

You could hear your name along with Kilis as you neared closer to the hidden hole under the boulder you being the last one ( so not a fan of running ) started to tumble a bit unable to slow down or catch your feet running right into thorin

Again....

You both rolled down the hole til you came to a stop you once again on top of thorin

Well then.... This day keeps getting better and better.. Within seconds after hearing the horn of elves he rolls you on your back him now on top as all hell brakes loose above .

Thorin quickly gets up pulling you to your feet moving you to the side just in time as a dead orc rolls down to your feet .

"Eves!!" Thorin Growled Taking out the arrow from the orc throwing it to the ground in disgust.

Throwing a tiny temper tantrum I see

You shaked your head and moved closer to the orc out of curiosity

Ewww these things really do stink you thought as you continue to stare at the dead orc you could hear the company buzzing about a pathway and following it.

"I think that would be wise " Gandalf said Thorin gave him a suspicious look as he passed by him joining the others

Familiar indeed ...

Rivendell....

This place is heaven on earth you knew the dwarves were not to keen on the place that was pretty much evident when you and the company arrived the dwarves already on guard forming a circle you and bilbo pushed in the middle dwarves armed and ready non the less there was no way you'd pass up on a real bed and yes... a bath!!!

Once the company came to a calm and realisation food and bath was being offered for how ever long needed they didn't have to tell you twice ...they so had you at the word bath !!!

Now Here were soaking in a beautiful elven tub taking advantage of the lovely soaps (omg these smell divine) and warm water it was like a dream spa and you were gonna to enjoy it not knowing when you will get another chance like this again.

After your bath you notice there was a beautiful flowy f/c dress layed out neatly on your bed you quickly put it on Looking in the mirror you had to admit it look really good on you it was the perfect fit complimenting your figure.

How on earth did these elves know your size?

You shrugged and with one last look in the mirror you made your way out to find the company.

Wow this place bigger then you thought it took you a bit but finally you found the company singing and acting like

Well dwarves

Bofur was in the middle singing away the company followed suit banging tables and spoons then when the song came to an end a food fight broke loose

You stood by thorin unnoticed until you started giggling the company stop all eyes now on you (Thorin doing a double take ) No not awkward at all.

Just Silence until Lord elrond spoke

"Ah lady y/n so happy you can join us hope your room is most accommodating And I must say the dress looks lovely on you".

"Thank you and it's very beautiful thank you so much "

"Your most welcome please have a seat" his palm up arm outstretched pointing to the seat beside Gandalf you made your way over thorin following close behind.

As you start to pull out your seat thorin beats you to it pulling your chair out pushing you in and placing himself in the seat next to you.

Wow ..not expecting that.

"Thank you " you said shyly he nodded and the discussion on swords and what not begin.

When the time came for thorin ,Gandalf and Lord elrond ( bilbo included) to take their leave to discuss Thorin's map

you excused your self and did a little exploring finding a very comfy sofa in what looked like a Library

taking out a book you plopped yourself on the comfy sofa fanning your dress out and started to read but your mind was elsewhere.

Thorin ...

The way thorin has been acting towards you so far on this journey has made you very curious yes can be a bit rough around the edges even a bit harsh and short at times but there was a caring and gentle side you were starting to see.

Ever since you met in the three weeks or so you noticed how much he changed around you

little things like the looks he would give you when he thinks your not looking or how he seems to want you close by at all times (giving accuses about for your safety of course) or how when riding on horseback he always made sure that you road with him only ( those moments were very nice just saying ) and let's not forget falling on top of him....twice. So far no complaints there

And just awhile ago how he pulled out the chair for you (well he is a king their suppose to be all gentleman like Right? ) needless to say it made you feel ... Well special?

Those little moments made you wonder once again what was going on in that head of his he was like an enigma maybe it was nothing non the less you continue to ponder until you fell into a deep asleep .

@burningcoffeetimetravel @legolaslovely @fizzyxcustard @the-durin-boys. @ithilwen-lionheart

@emrfangirl. @thorinoakenshieldconfessions. @ladyoakenshield. Many more i missed :)

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vivilice · 6 years ago

Text

Regret (1)

No warnings

Genre: romance, Otherworldy, fantasy, LGBT+

A wind swept paper petals up towards the sky. A grand castle surrounded by a red sky lay in silence. The servants and stewards of this place all have a fabricated hearts. Only three residents carry a body of flesh and blood. A human with eyes of God and one arm. Who carries a promise with the two others. A dragon who has been around the longest and watches the other two from afar. Who carries his hobbies with vigor. A demon born from resentment which took a paper rose as his vessel. Who keeps the title of Devil and would rather spend time with the two others than those from outside.

The living room was dimly lit. Rosell sat on the windowsill one foot dangling down and with crossed arms. He looked outside at the rain. Hell was soaking with sound of roaring thunder in the distance. It was pleasant to hear. Really making the comforts of home more cozy.

“Wow, it’s thundering like crazy out there. I wonder if it’ll come closer.” A bright young woman sat down beside the Devil. Her peach skin illuminated every time a bolt of lightning lit the sky. Her long unruly blond hair fell nicely on her shoulders. Her smile warmed the Devil who she called brother everytime he looked at it.

A nice scent came sneaking in on them. It came directly from the kitchen which was placed beside the living room. A young looking man came strolling in. He wore a blue dress with a nice fluffy jacket, an apron and oven mittens while carrying stew. A long blue and white tail closed the kitchen door behind him. His slitted eyes screamed mischievous and his grin was painted a bright red.

“Food’s served.” He sang. The young woman, who was named Dina Ravenwood, who sat beside the Devil got up and darted to the dinning table. The man with the dragon’s tail, named Ikle Raveice sat down beside her and served her a portion of his cooking. He looked at his younger brother who still sat at the window. “Come eat with us already! I made your fav stew, you know.” Rosell Chartam Ibaraki, the Devil of the Fabricated Hell, stood up and sat down beside Ikle.

The little family sat and ate. Chatting about Dina’s school, about demonic affairs, about fashion and then. Dina,“Oh yeah! Today in religion I got in a heated discussion with two of the boys from the other class.” Ikle sniggered, “Wow, pro’lly ‘cause they had their own version of the Devil and such, huh? Not like anyone know the right answer right?” Ikle said, elbowing the Devil. Dina laughed and stuck her tongue out for her dragon brother. “Why are you booing me I’m right!” Ikle’s use of an old meme earned him another elbow.

“Actually,” Dina began after she had stopped laughing. “We were talking about resentment toward God and how The Devil...is driven by only that, hate.” Hearing Dina say that Rosell could only keep eating.

A shadow fell over Rosell’s features and he stared out of the window again. Ikle gulped loudly and gestured for Dina to change subject. Dina however, was quite nosy.

“Rosell? I argued against them because I know better, right.” She continued. Without hesitating Rosell answered, “Nah, they’re pretty much right. But you know that too. If it wasn’t for that god-for-nothing, i’d-“ Dina, “You’d what?” Silence feel over the room. “Isn’t that quite dumb?” Rosell turned his head, seething anger started to rise. he clenched his fists.

Dina’s face was stern and Ikle could only sigh. “Dina.” Rosell began, trying to keep his voice calm. “You don’t know what you’re talking about. You know what he did.” Dina was relentless, “I know he killed them. But didn’t you kill his forces too?” Rosell became angrier, he almost said something until Dina said, “Didn’t you want to be able to be left unrestrained? Is this your anger? You didn’t know any of them! Neither the circumstances surrounding why God saw it as a necessity to... ok I won’t defend mass murder. But... you hate a guy you never really met. And for what? The resentment your predessecors formed you from?”

Silence filled the room after Dina spoke. Suddenly, a loud humm broke out. Rosell turned his head and was met with the biggest “I told you bro!” Face from Ikle.

All the anger which had been built up suddenly dissapeared as if a witch had swung her staff. It dawned on Rosell.

She was right.

Ikle looked at Dina who returned the look. Then back to Rosell who stared at his plate Suddenly, Dina couldnt take her brother’s silence anymore.

“Uhh, Rosell? Sorry, I just wanted-“ Dina didn’t get the chance to finish. “You’re right.” “Huh?” It blurted from Ikle. Rosell rested his chin in his hand and looked troubled.

Rosell, “You’re absolutely right.”

Footsteps rang out throughout the Heavens. A colorful seraph darted around God’s abode to try and find the lord. Finally, after opening the absolute last door in the whole palace the angel found God.

A big white coat, with splotches of dried paint, floated around a being with a dimmed aura. With colorless hair tied loosely by the neck, held by a huge bead. A young man rotated his body to show a patchwork of vitiligo on his skin. Big round glasses surrounded his eyes which were two differen colors, one blue one and one purple. He broke into a smile, “Miza!! What is it?” The seraph stood straight and answered, “Young lord Bell, I-I believe I found Strezia’s daughter!!!!”

Colorful eyes widened and the smile became bigger. The God jumped into his angel’s embrace and celebrated with gusto, jumping up and down. “Are you for real?! Then what are we waiting for? Hurry and let’s go already!!!”

The seraph staggered and tried to readjust themselves, “Bell,uh Bell. Remember. It’s the human realm we are going to. You need to hide your aura!” Baltazar, the God of The World of Allure smiled, “Well, I think I will need your help... you know. My art block and all.” The seraph called Miza didn’t answer. Only giving a knowing nodd and then the two were on their way.

“What do you mean you can’t tell me?!” Baltazar almost started crying. The lady behind the counter couldn’t help but fidget while Baltazar got closer and closer up in her face.

“Bell... calm down. They can’t just give out the information like that.” Baltazar turned to look at Miza, “But, but. Then how will we...” “Excuse me, sirs?” Both turned to the lady, who was in charge of the orphanage register. “Like I said.” She began. “I can’t just give out addresses at random. And since you can’t prove that you’re related to this woman, then it doesn’t look good for your search...”

Baltazar’s face turned gloom. It was like all the color around him died out and became grey.

“But there might just be a way.”

Instantly, Baltazar’s face brightened up. The woman behind the counter turned in her seat and began pressing keys on her computer and click around with her mouse.

“You see... five years ago. A woman related to miss Ravenwood came to search for her as well. She left her business card. It’s all I can give you as of now.” She reached for a file and pulled out a small dull business card.

Baltazar took the card and thanked the lady profusely. Then he darted out the door with Miza dangling behind him.

“So... huff, huff what now?” Miza inquired. Baltazar stopped on a sidewalk and turned to Miza, “Hold out your hands. I need some inspiration.” Miza held out her hands and they both closed their eyes. After minute standing like that, earning the two weird looks from pedestrians they knew where to go.

Penelope power walked down the lane in centrum. She kept looking at her watch and walked faster and faster. She had done it so many times that even her stilettos gnawing at her heels wasn’t a bother anymore. Just slap on some patches and then she would be fine! Oh well, she also had to call Dina and wish her luck on her test and then there was that new apartment opening and then. Umpf!

Penelope, “watch were you’re going!” Staggering back from the impact Penelope surveyed the person in front of her. Messy, oversized coat, bleached hair, smudged glasses, and ... heterochromia? Without noticing Penelope had begun to sneer at the jaywalker. “Uh... I’m! I’m so sorry.” The man begun to bow up and down. So much that Penelope felt nauseous just looking at the other, she asked him or was it a her? To stop.

After the person stopped Penelope made her way to leave until her wrist was grabbed.

Big mistake.

Penelope had practiced martial arts since grade school. She was quite proud of her hand palm block and wrestled the attacker’s hand backwards. A pitiful scream was released and people around the two stared in disbelief. This attacker had to be a man. In Penelope’s opinion it was always men who gave the most ear-piercing scream.

While Baltazar’s soul was about to leave his body, a new guy appeared. “Wait, ms Ravenwood!” Penelope looked at the newcomer. With disdain she said, “Who are you and why do you know my name?” The new guy straightened his back and answered with a slight tremble, “Please, we uh, we wish to speak to you. About Dina.” With those words Penelope let Baltazar go.

“You’re Dina’s father’s acquaintance?” Penelope asked and sipped her free coffee, the two others had brought for her.

The attacker was named Baltazar and the other one, who Penelope had thought to be man, Miza. Both sat opposite from her inside a coffee shop.

The two nodded and Baltazar began, “Yeah, we got your business card at the register. We really didn’t want to bother you... or maybe, just bother you about Dina.” He shrugged helplessly.

Penelope sighed, “I see. Next time don’t jolt me like that. I nearly got a heart attack, you know!”

Both bowed their head to apologize.

“Well, never mind anymore.” She said to make them stop. “I just need to know if you have any proof of your relations. You must know I just can’t send any stranger over to my niece.”

Miza had an aha moment and rummaged around in her purse. “Is the person on the right familiar in any way?” She asked, while pointing to a picture of two people she pulled out of her purse.

Penelope’s face dropped.

She asked for the photo and studied it close.

“It really... is her. Marie...” Penelope said, caressing the picture with her free hand. Her eyes got glassy.

“I see. Only two copies exist of this one. That’s what Marie told me... very well then. Tell me what you want with Dina and then I’ll tell you we’re to find her. But i warn you!” She said, pointing with a stern finger. “If i hear you tried anything fishy, i’ll find some means to drag you two through Hell! If not Dina’s brothers does it first!”

Baltazar held up his hands and broke into a big happy but nervous smile, “We! just wanted her to know about her father and maybe get closure to questions she may have...”

Penelopepaused. then she smiled and then wrote down an address. “She lives with her adoptive brothers. Get along with them and then you’ll get along with Dina.”

The building in front of God and his seraph were quite foreboding. Vines crawled up the walls and held the building in a tight embrace. The leaves were so dense it was hard to know which color the house originally held.

Baltazar started to sweat. He strolled nervously up to the entrance and was about to knock when he heard incoming footsteps.

“I’ll be back later dolls, I just need to...” a young blondie opened the door and was met by Baltazar’s stupefied look. Miza straightened her uniform and looked directly at Dina.

Baltazar, “May you be... miss Dina Ravenwood?”

Dina closed the door somewhat and hid behind it to shield her. “That depends on... What business you two may have...”

Baltazar fretted And didn’t know what to say. His divine power revealed her identity, however he couldn’t just reveal his true form to her. She may be the daughter of a seraph but she shouldn’t get scared.

“Ah! I’m so sorry. Let me introduce me and my companion. I’m Baltazar Farver and this is Miza.” Miza bowed slightly to Dina, “How do you do.” She said.

Dina opened the door some more to look better at the two oddballs on front of her.

“We! Uh, we are acquainted with you dad and we wish to tell you about him and maybe get to know...you?” Dina’s eyes lit up, then she became more apprehensive.

“How do I know you’re telling the truth.” Baltazar looked at Miza in defeat. Miza took the hint and coughed slightly, “Miss Ravenwood. We only have this picture of your mother together with your father.” She gave Dina the picture. Dina’s blue eyes shone like small stars and she looked at the two more brightly.

“Thank you so much!!! Please, come in come in. I’ll be happy to know you! My brothers are not home yet but they’ll be home soon!” Miza and Baltazar breathed out in relief. They began to step into the small house.

An array of demonic aura appeared on the floor inside the hall the moment the two divine beings stepped inside. It forced God and the seraph to reveal their true selves. Baltazar looked at Miza in horror. The array and the sudden change in atmosphere revealed that they were no longer in the second realm. They had entered Hell, the third realm.

Baltazar had a look of horror spread out on his face. Slowly, he looked at Dina who had sprung back after the array had activated. It held Baltazar and Miza in an iron grip making the two unable to move.

Dina was frozen to the ground. She looked at the God and the angel for a long while. Unable to say anything.

Meanwhile, piles of questions weighed down on God’s mind. Why was a human child living in Hell? No, why i Strezia’s child living in Hell? Does her aunt know? Is she a prisoner to an evil demon? Will demons gather now that two from the first realm had appeared?

Baltazar’s train of thought stopped abruptly. He was let down along with Miza and the two looked with surprise at Dina. Dina stood still. And then she lifted a finger to her lips. She then gestured to the two to follow her.

Dina poured three cups of tea with an apologetic look. The two heavenly beings were astounded. Dina had been adopted by two demons who now acted as her guardians. She was apparently also dating another demon and was quite happy with her life.

“And that’s really it.” She finished, “Look, I don’t want to hurt you and I’ll be more than willing to hear about my father. I’ve always wondered what happened.”

Miza had on a face of grave seriousness, “Miss Dina. Our presence here... It might cause some... people. To find rather... what do you say? Complicated. We don’t wish to engage in any hostility with your brothers.”

Dina smiled with relief, “That’s good to hear. I’ll make sure you’ll get out of here safely. But please, meanwhile. Make yourself comfortable.” Baltazar quickly took her up on her words an munched on a cookie he had been offered. Miza shot him a menacing look and Baltazar realized he probably took it a little too well. being in Hell and all.

He sighed and smiled. He’d better get on with it, “You see your father-“

“WHATSUP SLUTS! BIG BRO’S BAAAA.....aaaack.” A boisterous woman kicked open the door to the living room. Her voice was as dark as a man’s. She stopped immediately when she saw the angel and the other divine who sat with Dina.

Everybody turned to look at the newcomer.

Sweat began to form on the lady’s forehead and she cleared her throat, “Haha, welcome dearies.” she had completely changed her tone to a more fairer one.

“Oh Dina, I didn’t know we would have guests. I would’ve dressed for the occasion.”

Dina abruptly stood up, “Ah! Sis! Eh, these two know about my dad!” The lady blinked, “Really?” Suddenly her demeanor changed and she slowly got over and sat beside Miza. “Well, if you have something to tell about Dina that I don’t know. Then I would like to hear as well. The names iklea.” She held up her hand for Baltazar to shake.

“Hello there, the names Baltazar.” Miza quickly shot Baltazar another look. And he retracted his hand. While giving the sister an apologetic look.

Wait. didn’t Dina only have brothers? Balthazar thought.

Iklea looked like she tried to hide her displeasure. Looking thoughtful she sat with crosses arms. “Well, anyways. Didn’t you want to talk about Dina’s dad?” She asked, quite annoyed.

Baltazar cleared his throat, “Yeah! uh, yeah. Sorry.” He then began to tell about Strezia.

“Your dad’s name was Strezia. She was one of the most creative seraphs in my court. Oh, I have a picture.” Baltazar procured a picture of a beautiful fair-skinned lady. Her body was totally covered in a white uniform, with dried paint on. Her hair was even longer than Dina’s and her eyes were piercing as if she was looking directly at the viewer. Her eyes were the same as Dina’s.

“Uhh. Mr, Baltazar?” Dina asked hesitantly. “Isn’t this a picture of a woman?”

Baltazar blinked, not once but twice before Miza shot him another glare. “Oh yeah, you father was actually a woman.”

Dina looked slightly surprised. She looked at Iklea then back at Baltazar. “My father? Was a woman? And an angel at that?” She was sounding rather sceptical. Balthazar didnt blame her. But the God did wonder. hadn’t she been living with demons!

Baltazar, “Well, its not hard to change gender when you’re an angel. Or a demon for that matter. And I know for a fact that Strezia loved to explore the nuances of existence.”

Iklea smiled and put an arm around Dina, “Reminds me of someone i know.” She winked. “Excluding the shapeshifting part.” The siblings grinned at each other.

Miza looked at the picture and sighed, “Strezia was like an elder sister to all of us.”

Balthazar looked fondly at thepicture too, “When she told me she had fallen in love with a human woman I tried to warn her.”

Dina, “Warn her? About what?”

Baltazar looked down, “Humans don’t live forever... I was afraid she would get hurt and then... Look, Strezia wasn’t aware that your mother was pregnant. If she knew...” Baltazar could feel tears forming. He quickly wiped them away.

Dina’s face was frozen, “Mr, Baltazar? Sorry I’m asking but... my father, you address him in past tense could it be that...”

Dina didn’t say anymore. Baltazar lip quivered. He tried to pull himself together. Miza put a hand on Baltazar’s back. Dina took Iklea’s hand and Iklea squeezed it back.

Shadows swept the halls of the Fabricated Castle. The light from the mosaic windows danced around and found a silhouette which appeared at the end of the stairs leading to the main hall.

Red eyes surveyed the foyer and the gaze went towards the living room.

Hearing unfamiliar voices the silhouette took on a more human appearance with a nice blazer and matching pants.

He opened the door and first saw his sister Dina and then Ikle, “I’m back.” He said, then stopped in the doorway. When the guy opposite of Dina turned around something deep inside of Rosell sank.

Voices. Voices which had been hidden away since he met Dina returned.

Kill. Kill. Revenge. Chance. Take it!

“Ross-!” Dina yelled and got up. Iklea, who really was Ikle, hurried to make Dina stop before she finished the name.

Rosell’s eyes were fixated on Baltazar.

The God he had spent centuries getting to. He now sat in his living room. Free from his court’s protection.

He had never been this close. So close yet...

Balthazar, “Hello, you must be Dina’s brother. I’m Dina’s father’s Uh... acquaintance.” The God got up from his seat, turned to Rosell and smiled.

The dread dissipated.

Rosell, “Dina’s?”

Rosell looked at Dina and Ikle who were about to burst.

He then took a looked at the seraph, who was also present in the room.

It seems like... there was some explaining to do.

Dina’s elder brother took off his coat. A small smile formed on rosell’s lips.

“Where are my manners. You can call me Ross.”

“Ross” held out a hand for God to sake. Baltazar returned the smile and shook the other man’s hand, “I’m Baltazar.”

Ross, “I know.”

Baltazar felt dread roll down his body.

Rosell, “You hurt me, my lord. I may be a common demon. as you might have guessed from the array at the entrance. Currently disguised as a human for Dina’s sake. But I know my way in this world. And the people one has to know about” He looked directly through Baltazar.

“Surely, you must have been aware that this is Hell when you arrived, right.”

Baltazar nodded. Unable to say much more.

Ross let go of Baltazar’s hand, “Now, tell me. What have I been missing?”

Ross, “I see, that explains a lot.”

Dina, “It does?”

Ross, “It explains why you got the eyes of God.”

Baltazar almost spilled his tea, “She’s got my eyes???” This statement prompted a facepalm from Miza.

Rosell shook his head, “Not yours per see. More like, what priestess in the old world prayed to be able to see through you. To see things that normal people wouldn’t.”

Miza took a sip from a teacup. “You mean she can see magic beings?”

Rosell scoffed, “No, not at all. She still believes my tail is some weird furry statement i have going. Dina turned to Ross, “Ross please!” She then turned to the divine pair and confirmed, “I’ve always been able to, since I was small.”

Miza sighed and tried not to show her disdain for the demon, “That must’ve been difficult. Your peers must have found you rather peculiar. We are terribly sorry we did not know of your existence earlier. We should’ve been able to help you.” SHe glanced at “Iklea” and “Ross”, “Much earlier.”

Ross glared at the seraph who gladly returned the gesture. It was so intense that Miza could only try to drink from an empty cup and act like she didn’t notice the cup was empty.

Dina, “Not at all! My childhood was... but then I met Ross and Iklea. Since then.. I’ve been rather content. I even decided when my business in the human world is finished. I’d actually like to stay permanently here with my boyfriend... if he still likes me in the future that is.”

Iklea broke into laughter, “HAH! He better. ‘Else I know of a few heartbreaking words to tell him.”

Nobody in the room liked the obvious wink Iklea sent towards the group.

“But back to my dad....” Dina tried.

Baltazar’s face dropped, “Yeah! Right!”

“As I said, Strezia fell in love with a woman named Marie Ravenwood. She stayed together with Marie for some human years until one day... She came home. Locked herself in her room and didn’t show her face for quite some time... Miza.” Balthazar gestured to the seraph, “Found out that ms. Ravenwood had cut ties to her. And then thirteen years ago... you mother. You probably know know what happened.”

Dina gulped and looked down. Ross sat beside her and watched her every move.

Dina’s mother had died giving birth to her. Her mother had cut all ties to her family because of improper conduct. She would rather give Dina up for adoption than let her parents know of her daughter’s existence. As Dina had been told by her aunt.

“I felt it when you mother died.” Balthazar continued when DIna confirmed she knew.

“Her connection to Strezia made all of Strezia’s closest feel it too. I knew something would happen so I... I forced myself into Strezia’s room. But she was gone. A few days later. Strezia’s light disappeared from this existence...” Dina felt cold.

“Nobody knew what had happened to her as she had thrown away her halo.”

Dina sat frozen. Her shoulders trembled. Dina got up and went out the door. Ross got up too and followed after her. Balthazar could only stare as he was at a loss at what to do. It had been twentyfive years ago and he still remembered the day as if it was today it had happened.

Iklea sighed, “Don’t worry, she... just have to swallow it. They’ll be back. After she gets it out.”

Baltazar felt her pain. A girl who had never met her parents.. and for both of them to wind up dead. Truly sad.

Baltazar closed his eyes. His empathy gave birth to an inkling of inspiration. He used it to see where the two had gone. ‘

A gentle hand calmly patted a young weeping maiden while rocking her back and forth. A good man consoling his little sister. Whispering reassuring words to her.

After a while Iklea went too and the three of them soon got back.

Baltazar got up from his seat, “I’m sorry that you and Strezia never got to meet. But I’m happy nonetheless to finally being able to meet you. I-“ “Wait a moment.” Ross said.

Baltazar stopped.

Ross, “I think I know what happened to Strezia.”

Miza got up instantly.

“You do??? What happened? What do you mean?”

Baltazar looked hopeful at Ross. However, Strezia’s soul had moved on. She wouldnt turn up alive, even if balthazar wanted it. Still, Baltazar wanted closure so he prompted Ross to tell what he knew.

“Some time back. An angel went on a rampage throughout some shopping districts in Hell’s capital. Many high demons came to stop her but her attacks were relentless. She didn’t even try to protect herself. Charging head on.”

They all listened attentively. Nobody were sitting anymore, holding their breaths.

Ross, “She stirred up such a huge incident that the Devil himself showed up.”

Baltazar felt stiffened. He always got trembling fits every time the Devil was mentioned. he tried to gulp down the unease.

“He tried to subdue her.” Ross continued. “But when he went for the killing strike she suddenly threw her sword and met the attack with open arms. He refused her the kill and stopped immediately. But, something in her eyes drove her to steal away his sword, Redwoo, and then she... ended it herself.”

The atmosphere which surrounded the room lay heavily on the people inside.

Baltazar felt weak and wanted to scream and cry. He blamed himself. His inefficiency. He was supposed to be God but he couldn’t even help one who had been so close to him.

The loss of Marie was so big that Strezia didn’t even want to be in a world where Marie wasn’t there. A tragedy befitting of such a beautiful love. If this had been a tragedy.

Baltazar flinched when he felt a hand on his shoulder. He lifted his head to see Dina with tears in her eyes. “Thank you for coming today.” Her voice was weak and trembling. She fought hard to keep the tears at bay. Baltazar only felt worse when he saw her. He then embraced the girl. And thanked her too. Holding back tears.

She never knew them. But she wished she had. Still, she couldn’t help but feel sad for two people who had loved each other and tried to protect each other. Angels’ life span far surpasses that of a human. With a baby on the way, Miza concluded it must’ve been because Marie wanted to spare Strezia the heartbreak of outliving her child and wife. Nobody knew for sure.

“Thanks for having us!” Baltazar beamed. He stood outside of Ross, Iklea and Dina’s house. Miza and him were preparing to go back.

“I’m so happy I came to meet you Dina! And your nice elder siblings of course. Even though I thought that you had two brother to start with... but well, it’s really been fun! Though, maybe a tad bit sad.” Iklea stood and supressed a laugh. Ross only elbowed her.

Baltazar clasped Dina’s hands, “I might be God and have business other places but I would really like it if we kept in contact with each other! You’re really bright and I’m sure Strezia would’ve been so proud of you. So I hope that I can come and visit again. You know, to tell you more and stuff!”

With a returned beaming smile Dina answered, “Yes of course! I really want to know more as well. And you’re really interesting my lord. Even Ross and Ikle- I mean Iklea liked you. And I’m sure they don’t mind.” Dina looked back at her siblings they both nodded in agreement.

“I’m just... I’m just sad that my dad didn’t know about me...” Baltazar patted Dina’s head, “Yeah, it could’ve been different.”

Dina shook her head, “It could’ve. However, I’m happy as is.” She then turned to look at her siblings. Baltazar was truly happy for her.

Miza and Baltazar then said goodbye and disappeared towards the first realm.

“I’m sorry Rosell.” Dina said sheepishly. “I didn’t realize he was God until later...”

“It’s ok. I’m glad you made him stay.”

“You... are?”

“Yeah.”

#original content #writing #God and Devil #World of Alurre #Romance #Fantasy #otherworldly #lgbt #lgbtq community

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xf-cases-solved · 8 years ago

Text

She Tastes like Candlelight

MSR

Explicit

It starts with, of all things, a pair of old jeans and a t-shirt.

Logically, he knows it doesn’t make sense. She comes to work in form-fitted jackets that go tight about her waist. She’s been foregoing the baggy slacks in favor of skirts that stop just below the knees, with nylons clinging to the defined musculature of her calves; he’s pretty sure he can count on one hand the number of times he’s seen her wear shoes other than heels, excluding the clinical, white shoes she wears with her scrubs during autopsies.

He’s seen the looks she gets. Sometimes, it’s during an interview, when a witness’s gaze will linger just a little too long on her bustline, and her hand will go up and fiddle with her necklace, her arm blocking her chest in subtle defiance. Other times, it’s men on the streets of the city, shouting out obscenities to her, having the audacity to call her “baby,” and “sweetheart,” and he fights the urge to yell right back, brandishing his badge and his gun, wanting to scare the misogyny right out of the bones of anyone who thinks they’re entitled to her body, but he knows that she would find it condescending. “Thank you, but I can handle myself, Mulder,” she’d say, and it’s not that he thinks she can’t—he just doesn’t want her to have to.

And still other times, the looks come not from strangers on the sidewalk, or from people he can reduce to photos in a casefile, but from their peers. Educated, talented men who transform themselves into slobbery, teenage boys when sitting adjacent to her in meetings, eyeing her with an inappropriate hunger while she jots down notes in the margins of her agenda sheet. More than once, Mulder has found himself in the elevator with a man who will look down at Scully, and then catch Mulder’s eye over the top of her head, just so that he can wink, including him in some inside joke he has no interest being a part of.

He supposes that he empirically knows that Scully is attractive—it’s more or less objective fact—but he’s never allowed himself to notice. He’s trained himself to observe her through a filter. He considers her appearance through what he aptly names the Sexual Harassment Video Gaze. He quickly shuts down any thought that could be used as an example in a training tape on inappropriate office behavior.

This isn’t a hassle, if only because there are so many other aspects to the enigma that is Dana Scully that Mulder can appreciate.

Her mind for example; she’s got a mind that can run circles around him. The way she rattles off scientific studies and facts to shut down his so-called crazy notions is like intellectual BDSM. He doesn’t get off on it, because Scully isn’t someone you simply get off on, but she lords her intellectual dominance over him in a way no one else can, and he finds, sometimes only in retrospect, that he has a thing for being beaten into submission in a debate. In fact, he thrives on it; it gives him cause to grow as an intellectual; to match her cerebral prowess.

Which is why, when she shows up at his doorstep with a casefile and a paint-splattered t-shirt hanging over a worn out pair of jeans, he is taken completely off guard by his immediate and sudden knowledge that Dana Scully is hot.

“Here’s the file on the serial murders. I made some notes for you to look at,” she says in lieu of a greeting, holding out the file in her hand, her nails, which are usually meticulously shaped, are chipped on her index and ring fingers. Mulder says nothing; merely stares in a way that can only be inelegantly described as gaping. She notices him noticing her, and she flushes. She runs a hand through her hair—and damnit if her hair isn’t different too, pinned back from her face with bobby pins, a few strands loose, curling around her ears in the humidity. “Sorry,” she says, as Mulder comes alive enough to take the file from her. “Mom needed help painting the study. Bill was gonna do it before he got back to the base, but he just never got around to it...Uh, anyway, I should be going. Just wanted to drop this off while I was nearby. I’ll see you at the office.”

His instinct is to yell out a defiant ‘no!’, but he reins it in, opting for a more rational excuse to make her stay. “Do you have time to just run over your notes with me? I take it you disagree with my witchcraft theory?” He says it casually, as though her leaving now wouldn’t be the absolute worst thing that could happen.

“Ritualistic killings,” she says easily. “It’s textbook, Mulder, I don’t know what else you want me to say. I know you want to find the supernatural in everything, but the wounds were clearly done by humans. Sometimes, people just do awful things.”

He opens the door wider and steps aside to let her in. She sets her jaw.

“Mulder, I’m sweaty, exhausted, and frankly, would like to spend my Saturday with a cup of tea and a shower.” You’re welcome to mine, he pointedly does not say, too enamored with her unfamiliar appearance to mentally chastise himself for his indiscreet thoughts. “Can’t this wait until Monday?”

“Ten minutes,” he barters. If he can get her in the door he can angle for more time.

She checks her watch with a sigh.

He knows that sigh. It’s the sigh that he hears when he calls her at one in the morning asking for her presence at a crime scene; the sigh he hears when he thrusts her into a sterile, post-mortem examination room without the proper clearance, saying, “I figure we’ve got twenty minutes before they realize we’re not supposed to be here.” It’s the sigh that comes right before an exasperated, drawn out,

“Mulder…”

followed right by an even more reluctant,

“Ok. Fine. Whatever.”

And Mulder grins, because with all her enigmatic, intellectual gifts, Dana Scully is, more often than not, a creature of habit. It’s a weakness of hers he capitalizes on with little remorse, as he ushers her over the threshold and into his apartment.

He’d feel worse—he really would—except that Dana Scully is a creature of habit, and she is not in the habit of doing things she adamantly doesn’t want to do. She stands, arms crossed, eyebrow raised, but her hackles decidedly lowered. Mulder may have made the push, but she is here on her own volition, and that is wonderful; it’s really something, and he never gets used to the idea, even after all these years, that Scully does things Mulder asks of her because she wants to.

She’s considering the couch, so Mulder throws the casefile down on the coffee table next to his half finished bottle of beer, and plops himself down on the cushion by the fish tank, and she follows his lead, taking her usual spot beside him.

“Want anything?” he asks, picking up his drink and nodding towards it.

“Ten minutes,” Scully reiterates as a response, positioning herself on the edge of the couch, flipping open the casefile with one hand, and scratching absently at her nose with the other. The skin on her face is glistening, coated in a thin layer of sweat, and there’s a small splatter of paint on the right side of her jaw, just below her earlobe, and Mulder is struck with an absurd, and very Not Workplace Appropriate desire to kiss it.

He gives his himself the tiniest of shakes, and swallows, as if trying to literally digest away the thought.

Scully doesn’t notice. She’s flipped to the front page of the casefile where a picture of a young woman is paperclipped to the document. The young woman, from the top of her head to her shoulders, could be sleeping, but the photograph is unfortunately full bodied, showing where the murderer had sliced open her skin, cracked open her ribs, and removed her internal organs one by one, leaving her red and hollow. A ghost of a grimace passes over Scully’s mouth. She is desensitized to most forms of violence—can cut into a corpse and think about dinner plans with her arms elbow deep in its chest cavity—but dead women, specifically women who did not have an easy time with death, always brings the human’s compassion out past the doctor’s dissonance.

“All of the murders were executed by the same means, that much is clear,” she says to cover her momentary lapse. “I performed the autopsies myself, they are all exactly the same.”

“You told me over the phone that you meant that literally,” Mulder says, temporarily distracted from the paint on Scully’s cheek and the strange drop in his stomach it’s making him feel, in favor of a bit of intellectual runaround. “Literally, the wounds on all three victims were exactly the same. Same length in the incisions, down to the centimeter, same order of organ removal, same everything. How do you account for that?”

“While it’s unlikely for a killer to perform identically every time he or she may kill, it isn’t out of the realm of possibility.”

“But you do agree that the probability for that is low. I mean, similar techniques, sure, but you’re saying that, if these wounds weren’t performed on three separate individuals, they would be indistinguishable from one another, right?”

“Low probability still allows for that chance, Mulder.”

“What about human error? Or the fact that the bodies were all found nearly a thousand miles apart from one another?”

“So because the chances are low, you’re wont to automatically believe that this is murder by means of what, exactly? The paranormal? Witches, Mulder?”

“Have you figured out the murder weapon yet?” Mulder asks with a smirk, already knowing the answer. Scully sets her jaw and leans back.

“No,” she says, refusing to drop Mulder’s gaze. That doesn’t mean anything, her eyes say. “Look, let’s just say, for sake of argument, that you’re right. That still leaves motive.”

“Anything come up that connects the three of them?”

“One thing,” says Scully, flipping a page to a photograph of the first victim—a middle aged bald man with a small symbol tattooed on his scalp. Mulder can’t place it among any of the various signs and symbols stored away in his subconscious. “Remember this symbol?” Scully asks. “Well, on the latest victim, I found the same exact tattoo on her scalp. It was a complete fluke—I wasn’t even looking for it, I just happened to notice it while I was checking for external evidence.”

“You think the second victim had the same mark? Could both you and the other medical examiner have missed it?” Mulder asks.

“I’d put a lot of stock in that bet,” Scully says. “It makes sense that we would have missed it, she had thick hair, and dark enough skin that a scalp tattoo wouldn’t have stood out in any way. The cause of death wasn’t exactly subtle, only the means of execution. My focus, and I’m assuming Dr. Trine’s, was on the abdominal wounds.”

“When is she scheduled for burial?”

“Wednesday. I’ve already left a message with the coroner’s office to see if I can get into see the body before the showing.”

“And you think these symbols are...what, exactly? Cultist marks?”

“Possibly. And maybe these victims are escapees of the cult. That would explain why they were found so far apart, but why the means of execution was the same.”

“Exactly the same,” Mulder reminds her. Scully doesn’t dignify this with a response. “Well, alright, I guess we wait until we confirm that the second victim has the same mark. Can I get a copy of that photograph to send to Georgetown University. I know a symbologist there who might be able to help us identify it.”

“Of course.”

And the conversation stills. There are no other obvious targets of this killer, so there’s no one for them to go out and protect, and they aren’t going to collect any more information on the murderer outside of 9-5 business hours. Any second, Scully is going to call his bluff, saying, “you knew what my notes were going to be, Mulder, did you ask me in here just to argue?” which is half true, because he’s always up for a bit of lively debate with her, but not entirely his motivation, and he’s not sure how to keep her here without revealing that, more than anything, he just wants more time to look at her. He decides to take a risk, making a sharp turn and steering the conversation down a completely different road, hoping it will make her stay.

“Why was your mom painting her study?” he asks, and if Scully minds this change of subject she doesn’t show it, perhaps used to Mulder being tangential and unpredictable. He likes that—he likes to have someone know him so intrinsically they are no longer phased by his eccentricities.

“She’s getting the house appraised,” she says, sliding back on the cushion just a little, an elbow propped up on the arm of the chair. “That house has been needing renovation, God, probably since I was in undergrad, but Mom’s always so ansty about any sort of change when it comes to the house. One Christmas, Dad offered to completely finance a brand new kitchen for her, and she declined, telling him that there were too many memories in her old kitchen, why would she want to get rid of it? And now, since Dad and Melissa passed, trying to convince her to make any modifications to the house has been about as easy as holding a conversation with a brick wall.”

“Or as easy as trying to convince her daughter to believe in the fantastic?” Mulder teases, and Scully smiles.

“Yeah, just about.”

“Well, your mom’s a sentimental woman.”

“Yeah, just a bit,” Scully scoffs. “I’m pretty sure she kept the shorts I was wearing the day I got my first menstrual cycle.”

“I hope she washed them before she framed them.”

“No kidding. But with the appraiser coming, she’s had to concede to a little bit of renovation. The study hasn’t even been used since Dad died, and I’m pretty sure the original coat of paint was lead based.” She rolls her eyes as she twists a strand of hair between two fingers.

This side of Scully is something Mulder doesn’t get to see that often.

There’s Agent Scully, his partner, with her quick wit and tedious but necessary skepticism, who has professionalism down to a science, even in the face of constant criticism.

There’s Dr. Scully, who can spout the anatomical term for every part of the human body, and can put together whole life stories of the post-mortem with nothing but her five senses and textbook smarts.

There’s Survivor Scully, who puts the memories of tragedy into a box that for any other person would be overflowing, but she manages to keep a lid on it with poise and grace, but in sacrifice, lives behind a wall, treating vulnerability like a mortal sin.

But this is Ms. Dana Scully. Ms. Dana Scully is the woman who talks about her mother with the phantom pains of long since amputated teenaged angst. This is the woman who wears paint-splattered jeans in public, and who forgoes the science journals and casefiles in favor of fiction books she reads in the bath by candlelight, and while Mulder adores every iteration of her, there’s a lightness in this version that makes him feel a bit fluttery. This is the version that laughs more easily, and it’s the real laugh, the one that is loud and abrasive and everything that Scully usually isn’t. This is the version that isn’t weighed down by all the years she’s spent chasing monsters in the dark by his side.

Mulder isn’t sure when exactly he fell in love with Scully.

It’s possible that there wasn’t a specific moment at all. Maybe the transition from friendship was so smooth that one day he just woke up and realized he’d been looking at Scully the same way he looked at the night sky—like an intricately tangled mystery, full of beauty and questions and Truths, of which he may never know the extent of. Somewhere along the way, she had become his greatest X-File.

“My parents never kept anything,” says Mulder, fiddling with his bottle of beer. “I think it was too hard, and the Mulder family wasn’t anything if not masters of repression.”

“Grief manifests in different ways,” says Scully, and she leans against the back of the couch now, and Mulder suppresses a grin of victory. “Everyone deals with the pain differently. I guess my Mom is the type to want to hang onto every detail, and yours were the ones who’d rather forget.”

“I’m sure healthy coping mechanisms rest somewhere between the two,” says Mulder, and the corner of Scully’s mouth quips up. He gets to his feet, and before she can follow suit, he says, “I’m grabbing another beer, this one’s gone lukewarm. Let me get you one.”

“It’s been more than ten minutes,” she says, smirking, but she doesn’t move from her spot, as if she already knew she was never getting out of this apartment without a fight.

“Then we gotta reset the timer.”

A sigh.

“Mulder…”

“Come on, where do you have to be? There’s a Twilight Zone marathon on the SyFy channel. Pretty sure ‘It’s a Good Life’ is the next episode, or the one after. That’s the best one.”

“My whole life is like The Twilight Zone, Mulder, I don’t need to watch it.”

“But these ones have little factoids about the production of each episode at the end of all the credits,” he says, bouncing on the balls of his feet like an excited little kid, and he watches her fight a smile, refusing to encourage him. “Come on, you can’t say no to Serling.”

“Mulder, any other night I’d be happy to keep you company, but I look like I’m covered in that mushroom digestive slime, and I’m pretty sure I smell like it too. Trust me, I’m sparing you.”

Mulder waves a dismissive hand and says, “that’s a poor excuse, you’re beautiful.” He says it easily and with no sense of shame, because even though it’s not Sexual Harassment Video Appropriate, it’s true, and he knows it’ll throw her off her guard.

Which it absolutely does. Her eyes get wide, and her mouth does that wonderful thing where she opens it just a little, the tips of her front teeth visible. “Shut up, Mulder,” she says when she’s recovered, but it doesn’t have her usual finesse, and Mulder doesn’t relent.

“What? You are. You know that, it’s not some big secret. Besides, I've seen you covered in digestive slime, and I assure you, you look nothing of the sort.”

He actually doesn’t know how Scully sees herself when she looks in the mirror. Does she know she’s beautiful? He imagines Dr. Scully might view her own body clinically, noting that she’s smooth, proportional, and symmetrical, which, she would argue, are traits that humans have been conditioned to find attractive, so in that sense, she fits the bill.

But how does Ms. Dana Scully, with no makeup on, and shapeless clothes hanging off her frame, feel about herself? At Arcadia Falls, she wore a horrible, green face mask, and when he looked at the tube of it she left in the bathroom, he saw it was to minimize pores and diminish the visibility of wrinkles.

Her lunches are always salads or pieces of flatbread covered in pesto and vegetables, and her snacks always have the words soy, rice, or low-fat in their descriptions. She puts concealer on her facial mole, and gets her nails professionally done. Does she do these things because she likes to? Or does she think she needs to?

She has scars; the small slit scar in the back of her neck, the remnants of the gunshot wound in her abdomen. Along her milky skin there are thin, white lines all across her body one can only see up close. She's been hit, thrown, beaten, and bashed, all in the line of duty, and those sorts of things stain.

To Mulder, who has his own physical evidence of what he's been through, they are but reminders of the times they could have lost but didn't. They're signs of strength; of resilience. It's never occurred to him that she might see them as deformities, or maybe even as tally marks. “How many times have I nearly died? Let me count my skin.”

“You do know that, right?” he asks, now wanting to make sure there are no misconceptions; no hidden self-conscious behaviors she keeps from him when she views her own reflection. After all, Mulder is nothing if not an ardent proponent of the Truth.

“What kind of question is that?” is her response, which very purposely doesn't answer it.

“Hey, I'm not coming on to you,” says Mulder, although he's not sure how honest that is. “I just want to make sure we're on the same page here.”

“About my appearance?” She isn’t meeting his eye, and Mulder realizes she’s embarrassed, and it’s so un-Scullylike for her to give into her chagrin that Mulder wonders when the last time it was that someone called her beautiful. Not the beautiful the people on the street inundate her with, nor the unsettling winks she gets from her peers, but a genuine, honest, “you are beautiful.” He isn’t sure if he has overstepped a line, or should have crossed it much sooner.

“You're the one who said you looked like digestive slime,” he says, deciding he’s involved now, he might as well commit. “I'm just setting the record straight here. You know how I feel about the truth.”

She regards him the way she does when he says something particularly off the rails. 'You’re beautiful’ may as well have been 'I played poker with Bigfoot and the Loch Ness Monster’ for how closely knitted her eyebrows are right now.

“Is that a yes or no to the beer, then?” he asks her, and after a moment she says,

“Okay, but just one.”

An episode and a half later, her shoes are haphazardly laying on the floor, her feet kicked under her, her body curled in a ball like a kitten on the couch. She'd deny it if he said it, but she's got a thing for horror and sci-fi genres—she can make enough off-the-cuff references that he knows her college years had to be full with late night movie marathons, and she didn't become a pathologist simply out of a love of science. Like him, she's drawn to the intricacies of the human body and physical law, and while she might not believe them all in practice, she appreciates all the creative ways one could bastardize science.

“What did you mean when you said I'm beautiful?” Scully asks out of nowhere. There is a commercial for frozen pizza playing in the background, and Mulder was about to suggest they order some food, and her question catches him off guard.

When he looks at her she is still watching the television, face neutral. Vanity, in any sort of outward sense, has never been a concern Scully has ever seemed to bother with. He tries to imagine her as a teenager, standing in the bathroom mirror at school, picking at her acne, or poking at how her stomach pudges just slightly over the waist of her jeans when she bends forward, but he can’t.

Mulder remembers Padgett’s novel, and how he described Scully's reservations towards the more material parts of herself as a defense against the ingrained patriarchal atmosphere of her workspace, and while Mulder has no desire to give weight to any syllable Padgett typed out—he was, after all, just another man who felt entitled to her—a part of him can't help wondering if he had been right. For a second time he wonders when the last time Scully had been told she was beautiful? Not by a gushing family member, or an entitled man, but by someone who truly knew her, and expected and wanted nothing from her except for her to see the beauty in herself as well?

She already is waving her hand, embarrassed by her own question, flushed beneath her oily skin. “Never mind,” she says. “Don't answer that.”

Mulder considers a joke to lessen her awkwardness—“I’m pretty sure you could go up to any guy in the Hoover building and ask them to sleep with you and they would get naked right there”—but that's not the kind of beauty Mulder means, nor the type he wants her to think of herself as, like she only has beauty in terms of how it equates to sexuality. Scully’s beauty transcends the physical. In her case, beauty isn’t only skin deep. It goes all the way through her skin, into her bones, into her mind and heart and soul, and to think she might only view herself as someone to fuck is as reprehensible as her viewing herself as ugly.

“I meant that you're beautiful,” he finds himself saying. “In every sense of the word. In the biochemical sense, you surely elicit carnal urges in men—and probably some women, I mean, let’s be honest—but you manage to backup all that physical beauty with an even more beautiful mind, so don't think I mean you'd just make a good person to do the naked pretzel with, and don't think that just because you're not dressed for a federal office job, because it’s a Saturday and why would you be, that you've suddenly transformed into a gila monster.”

Scully says nothing, seemingly fascinated with her chipped index finger nail.

“Have I crossed a line?” Mulder asks, checking off the boxes of all the rules he's broken from his Sexual Harassment Video Gaze.

“No,” she says finally. “Besides, I asked.” She finally meets his eye and gives him a thin lipped smile, and Mulder is overcome with a desire to kiss her, except that's the exact opposite of what he's trying to accomplish here—convince her that she's more than just a lay—so instead he takes her hand in his and kisses her knuckles softly; platonically; safely.

So his surprise is insurmountable when it's Scully who then runs her tongue across her lower lip, and then leans over and kisses him on the mouth.

It's an awkward angle—her legs are still partially tucked beneath her, and she has to hold onto the back of his neck for balance—but it doesn't matter. Her lips are the texture of marshmallows, and the kiss is chaste and brief, and Mulder thinks absently of how this might be what it feels like to kiss a cloud.

She pulls away as quickly as she came, blue eyes wide and frightened, like a child who knows they're about to get scolded for stealing from the cookie jar, but Mulder couldn't be further from scolding. He hears his own pulse thrum at the base of his ears, and he wonders when his heart migrated to his throat.

“I can't believe I just did that,” says Scully, in the same voice that says things like, “but Mulder, that's scientifically impossible,” and “I've never seen anything like this before,” and Mulder realizes, right then, that in the same way she has become his, he's become her biggest X-File as well.

“Feel free to do it again,” he says, trying to sound cheeky, but it comes out shy and uncertain, like maybe that was just a bit of corrupted data that she wasn't going to try repeating.

But she doesn’t disregard the experiment.

Angling herself towards him this time, getting onto her knees so she’s balancing beside him on the couch cushion, she tentatively brings her hands up to cup his face—a gesture she's done a million times before, but that has never felt as erotic as it does right now.

Mulder twists so they are face to face, Rod Serling talking ominously in black and white in their periphery, and they stare, still and frightened like teenagers learning how to explore another person’s body for the first time.

Scully’s breath is hollow, and Mulder can feel the thrum of her pulse in the thumb positioned on his jaw. He kicks himself for not shaving that morning, hoping the stubble beneath her hand doesn’t cause her to pull away.

He’s not inexperienced, of course, he’s kissed a fair number of women, and slept with just as many, (if that’s what this is leading to), but this isn’t just somebody. He’s had one night stands, and short term flings, and even has been in love, but Dana Scully is her own category, and taking in the heat behind her eyes, Mulder knows that his love for her is not one sided, and even though, if pressed, he probably already knew that, it’s something else entirely to be faced with the confirmation. Theories are just theories until the evidence is presented, says the investigator inside of him, and sometimes, if the theory is big enough, finding the evidence can be overwhelming.

“What are we doing?” asks Scully, so breathlessly it almost sounds like nothing but air.

Mulder shakes his head, unable to speak, eating up the unadulterated love emanating from her, directed right at his own person. He instead leans over and kisses the fleck of paint splatter along her jaw, lips together but lingering, and Scully exhales shakily, her fingers flexing against him.

He pulls away to look at her, and just like the flip of a switch, the heat behind her eyes has become charged, and suddenly Mulder is introduced to a brand new Dana Scully—Dana Scully Aroused. Blood rushes to her cheeks in a natural blush on her naked face, and her bust rises and falls harder as she takes in oxygen more sharply. She worries her bottom lip between her teeth, and leans into him again, finding his mouth with hers, and he meets her with enthusiasm, no longer chaste, pressing hard until her lips part just enough for him to run his tongue over the spot her teeth had been just a moment prior.

Mulder’s kissed Scully before—once when Scully wasn’t actually Scully, and once as the clock struck midnight and he could use it as an excuse if he needed it. But kissing Scully and being kissed by Scully are decidedly different things, as he unconsciously brings his hands up slowly along her sides, feeling the outline of her ribs underneath her t-shirt, until his arms find themselves wrapped tightly around her back, pulling her into him so that her chest is pressed against his.

At this, she deepens the kiss, nipping him softly while her own hands move up and her fingers tangle themselves in his hair. In a single, swift motion, he moves one of his arms clinging to her, and slips it under her shirt, and rubs her cool, damp skin with the palm of his hand, and she gasps softly into his mouth at the feel of flesh against flesh.

Already he feels the tightening in his groin, and as much as it pains him to do it, he pulls away from her, searching her face for any sign of hesitation.

She makes a small noise of protest, and casts her eyes down at his lips, about to dive back in, but he catches her first, grasping her chin between his thumb and index finger, tilting it up so she’s forced to meet his eye. She’s heaving, with a chaotic gleam sparkling from the irises of her eyes, like she looks when she’s chased a suspect down the street and pinned him to the ground. How easily and dangerously the same look translates into eroticism.

“I want to,” she says before Mulder can even ask the question, and the words go right to his crotch. He closes his eyes to center himself, before opening them again and shaking his head just slightly.

“You need to be sure,” he says. “I need you to be sure.”

“I am,” she says without missing a beat, but then she furrows her brow, suddenly wary, and says, “Are you?”

Mulder lets out a huff of a laugh, smiling as he traces the outline of her lips with the pad of his thumb. “Oh I’m definitely sure,” he says, because now that the seal has been broken, every single ‘I’m not noticing’ he’s done to keep up the Workplace Appropriate Gaze is now crashing down on him with a vengeance, and he can think of nothing he wants more than to memorize all the different sounds Scully can make when she’s properly touched.

But he also can’t shake the nagging worry in the back of his head, the one saying that once this happens, they can’t go back. He’s already told her, in so many words, that she’s more than just a lay, and he can’t put himself inside her, and then go back to acting like he doesn’t know what that feels like.

“I just need you to realize,” he says, “that we can’t undo this if we do it.”

He’s reminded of their first ever case, walking from the hospital, Scully gesticulating with a soil sample she’d taken off the sole of Billy Miles’ foot, raving, ‘he killed Peggy O’Dell, I don’t believe it,’ and Mulder having to talk her back down to realize the implications of what she was saying.

Its both terrifying and comforting to know that no matter what the situation is, they have always been Mulder and Scully; they are always the same dynamic inside an unlikely duo that works in spite of itself.

Scully, still pressed against his chest, heeds Mulder’s words, and draws in a long breath, thinking hard. “I’d say,” she says slowly, after a long moment, “that we’ve already gone past that which we can’t undo.”

And Mulder considers their position, his hand unconsciously rubbing circles on the bare skin beneath her bra, her breasts rising and falling against his pectorals. Could he go to work on Monday and treat her like he doesn’t know the texture of her tongue? Could he brush his hair that morning and not think about the way she tugged on it just slightly hard enough to make it ache? He swallows hard.

“It sounds stupid, but I just don’t want to jeopardize our relationship,” he says. “You mean too much to me to ruin it because you’re hot and I couldn’t rein it in.”

Scully smiles slyly, leaning in even closer to Mulder now, and says, “so I’m hot now? I thought I was beautiful.”

“Please,” says Mulder, surprised by how low his voice registers. “You’re the smart one, you should know that the two aren’t mutually exclusive.”

At this, Scully captures his mouth again, and just like that, the question is answered for them as they’re thrust into the point of no return. There’s no way, Mulder thinks, lifting Scully up so that she’s straddling his lap, that anyone could ever be kissed like this and pretend like the world didn’t stop in its tracks.

Scully shifts so that her weight is on Mulder’s erection, and Mulder, being in sweatpants and having not had another person touch him there since he started getting eyes for the redhaired skeptic in his office, lets out an embarrassing noise at the contact. Scully pulls away just long enough to smirk, and then grinds down into him as she starts pressing kisses down the length of his jawline.

“Fuck me,” Mulder grunts, pressing his nails into the skin on Scully’s back.

Even though it wasn’t technically a request, Scully murmurs into the crook of his neck, “not here.” She resurfaces to add, “you might find your couch a suitable replacement for a bed, but I’m afraid I don’t share your point of view.”

Mulder regards her, struck by how disheveled she looks, her hair falling out from the bobby pins even more, and her lips swollen already. In a single movement, he scoops her into his arms and stands, and she lets out a girlish squeal he never thought Dana Scully could make, as she wraps her arms around his neck to keep from falling.

“Good thing I have a bedroom, then,” he says, kissing her briefly, before carrying her to his bedroom door.

“Yeah, you never did explain that to me,” she says, nibbling on his earlobe.

“I don’t remember,” he says, because he really doesn’t , and also because he’s fumbling with the doorknob and it’s distracting enough to have Scully’s tongue dipping into the crevice beneath his ear, so she can’t really expect him to tell the story of his mysterious bedroom right then and there, can she?

“Need help there?” she teases quietly.

“You’re not exactly making it easy,” he says, finally getting the knob turned, and all but kicking the door open. Scully, in all her unpredictable glory, lets out a genuine, goddamned giggle, and Mulder thinks if any more blood goes to his erection he may actually start losing brain cells.

He tosses Scully onto the bed a bit roughly, takes one second to appreciate the sight of her bouncing against his mattress, before crawling towards her until she’s fully beneath him.

“This is,” he breathes, looking down at Scully’s parted lips and flushed cheeks, “an excellent vantage point.”

“I could say the same,” she says. “Though it’s a bit dark in here.” She runs a hand up his torso and over his chest. “I want to see you better.”

Mulder nods, and instead of flipping on his reading lamp, reaches over onto his bedside table where he’s got a lighter and candle. He is aware of Scully shifting beneath him as he flicks open the flame and lights the candle. He comes back, and despite how wonderful she looks in them, decides right then that Scully is wearing altogether too many clothes.

He grabs the hem of her t-shirt, and tugs it up in an easy, practiced motion, Scully lifting up her shoulders so he can get it over her head. She’s wearing a black bra, and the underwire has rubbed her skin slightly red beneath her breasts, and he leans down to kiss the marks, flicking his tongue out onto the skin and tasting salt. In response, Scully bucks up against him, and he takes the opportunity to grab hold of her hips and start working on her jeans.

With one hand, he undoes the button, and peels them off of her, revealing her milky white thighs, and muscled calves. He pulls them off, taking her socks with them, and then runs his hands up the length of her legs, and her muscles twitch involuntarily. She’s got on a pair of light pink, cotton panties that don’t match her bra, which are probably panties reserved for lazy days and painting studies. Mulder loves it, and can see they already have a wet spot. He makes his way towards them.

Suddenly she reaches up to still his hands. He stops as she sits up onto her elbows. “There’s a lot of give and no take here,” she says, sounding flustered, and one of her hands settles over the gunshot scar on her abdomen unconsciously as she eyes his fully dressed form.

He considers telling her there’s not an inch of her she needs to hide from him, but he’s getting a bit warm under his clothes anyway, so he tears off his own shirt, and tosses it haphazardly onto the floor. Scully takes a sharp inhale of breath, and eyes his nude chest like it’s an ancient Greek sculpture, which is flattering, but ridiculous, because if anyone here is emitting classical beauty, it’s her.

She brings a hand up and slides her fingers through his chest hair, scratching very faintly with her nails. Mulder takes her by the wrist and kissing her knuckles, before leaning down and kisses her on the mouth again, an act he could spend hours doing and never get bored.

The contact between bare skin is electric, and Mulder has never been more aware of every nerve ending on his torso before. He could go the rest of his life learning how every inch of his body reacts to Scully’s touch, but right now he has more important things to focus on, like the bra that she’s still wearing for some God awful reason.

He slips his hands under her and without breaking their kiss, flips them over so that Scully is on top. She makes a surprised noise deep in her throat, and pulls away from him looking shocked and wild, her eyes wide. Mulder says nothing, and silently reaches behind her and works the clasp of her bra.

“Not bad,” Scully mumbles as it comes undone, and her bra sags, kept on only by the straps around her shoulders.

“Would you think less of me if I told you I used to practice with a bra and a body pillow?”

“Absolutely.”

“Then I definitely didn’t do that,” he says, very slowly sliding the straps of her bra down her arms, savoring her softness and the tensing of her muscles. Her skin breaks out in goose pimples, and she trembles a little as her bra falls off onto Mulder’s belly. He gapes up at her.

He’s seen Scully naked before, but this is worlds’ apart from that. This isn’t even in the same galaxy—if anything, this constitutes as a religious experience. Her breasts are the perfect, round handful, with dark areolas and taut nipples that stiffen beneath his touch. He pinches one gently, and Scully bites down on her lip so hard that when she opens her mouth again she’s drawn the tiniest drops of blood.

“You’re beautiful,” Mulder says.

“Yes, you’ve said,” says Scully, staring down, decidedly not looking into Mulder’s face. He takes her chin again and makes her look at him.

“You aren’t hearing me,” he says. “You’re beautiful.”

Her eyelids flutter, and her breath is shaky, and Mulder is taken with an urgent need to taste her.

“Off,” he says, helping her slip her leg back over his hips. “Get on your back.” He gently maneuvers her onto her back, and props open her legs and kneels in between them. He kisses each breast, running a tongue over her nipples, and then slides his mouth down her sternum. He kisses around her belly button, as he slips his fingers along the elastic of her panties. He feels her tense up as she realizes what he’s about to do, and he looks up at her.

“Do you want me to stop?” he asks. Scully draws in a deep breath, closes her eyes, and shakes her head, just once, and it’s all the prompting Mulder needs. He pulls down her panties, slowly dragging them over her knees, to her ankles, and off over her feet, and then admires what’s in front of him.

She either shaves or waxes, and it’s been some time since she’s done either, as strands of red hair are poking up from the skin. He runs his hand over her folds, so lightly both of them can barely feel the contact, but Scully stiffens anyway. Mulder presses his lips onto the inside of her thigh, kissing up and up, dipping his tongue into the crevice at the joint. She smells like sweat, and skin, and wetness, and he breathes it in like perfume.

He puts two fingers between her labia, and dips his tongue inside her. Just once. Just quickly. Scully sucks in a breath and arches her back at the suddenness of the action, and Mulder knows that he’s already become an addict. He wants to eat her for every meal for the rest of time. He nuzzles her leg with his nose, before diving right back in, slowly circling her entrance with the tip of his tongue.

He flattens it against her and drags it up until he’s at her clit. He holds back the folds and admires the swollen button of flesh, as the shadows cast from the candle dance over it, and when he presses his lips against her, he thinks that this must be what it’s like to taste candlelight. She tastes like candlelight—bright, beautiful, and burning. He traces sweet nothings onto her clitorous with his tongue, and her breathing begins to shallow. Without moving his mouth, he takes a finger and slips it inside her, and her muscles clench around him as he gestures ‘come hither’ deep in her body.

She starts to groan, but stops herself, throwing her first knuckle into her mouth and biting down, wrapping the fingers on her other hand into Mulder’s hair and pulling hard enough to hurt, but he doesn’t care. He’s too drunk off of her to feel anything but the texture of her skin on the sensitive nerves in his mouth.

“Mulder, I’m—” she says around her hand, cutting her own self off with a hitch in her breath. Her legs wrap around him, and he can feel her toes curling. He keeps a rhythmic motion going with his finger, while he continues to confess seven years worth of love with his tongue, and suddenly she’s letting out a sharp cry, the hand in his hair stilling, her whole body stilling, as she comes in his mouth.

“Fuck,” she mutters, the muscles in her groin convulsing involuntarily, her whole body a board, until her orgasm finishes washing over her, and she slumps into the sheets like a ragdoll.

Mulder slips off of her reluctantly, leaving behind one last kiss, before joining her at the top of the bed. She’s looking at him like she’s forgotten every word in the English language, and barely responds to his kiss, as he gifts her with his new favorite flavor, wanting her to know what candlelight tastes like.

“Mulder,” she says, distant and spent, and he brushes the hair off her face.

“What do you want?” he asks her. “Tell me what you want.”

“You,” she breathes, the syllable almost lost in the air. It’s the word he needs to hear, not even realizing how much he was aching for her until hearing her grant him entrance. He fumbles with the tie of his sweatpants, and pushes them and his boxers down in a single motion.

At the sight of him, Scully seems revitalized, her eyes bright, and licks her lips as she takes one hand and wraps it around him. She wets him down with his own precum, and jerks him off agonizingly slow. He groans in the back of his throat like a feral animal, and knows that he must be looking at her like she’s prey.

“Now,” she says, and before the word has even left her lips, Mulder is positioned between her legs, but he stops.

“Should I…” he looks for the words. “Do we need protection?” He knows the answer already. They’ve seen enough of each other’s blood work to know they’re clean, and there’s an entire file in his office about why they don’t need birth control, but he needs to hear her say it.

“No,” she says. “We don’t.”

And Mulder thanks Scully’s God, (he’s not sure he has one of his own), because he is an advocate for safe sex, but fucking Scully for the first time is something he’d rather experience in full. He pushes into her, going in easy with the wetness brought by her orgasm, and he sees the creation of the Universe happen behind his eyes.

“Oh Scully,” he says softly, and he says it like a prayer. She’s warm and tight around him, and he takes a moment to savor it, before he can’t handle it any longer, and starts to move.

He presses himself against her, chest to chest, pelvis to pelvis, and she wraps her arms and legs around him, and he still searches for more contact. He craves Scully’s touch like a drug, and he wants to meld into it. He wonders absently if there’s anything in the X-Files that would help him with that.

He thrusts into her, her muscles pulsating in a deliciously dangerous way that makes him already feel the buildup to his release. He’d like to have her in every way, shape, and form, but he knows he won’t last that long. He feels young, like it’s his first time, and foolish, but Scully will have to forgive him. Sex has never been like this, so effectively it is his first time, and by the way she’s scratching at his back helplessly, he knows she feels the same.

Beads of sweat form along Scully’s forehead, and he kisses them away while pushing into her, and she’s biting her lips again, trying so hard to stay quiet, as though letting anything out would be a vulnerability she just can’t take. So he makes the noise for her, swearing and gasping into her, as she tenses up and comes again so suddenly that he doesn’t have time to brace himself against the grip around him her tensing causes, and just as suddenly as her orgasm came, so does his, and he spills into her, her name on his lips like a reckoning.

He stays inside her for a minute, both of them silent except for their panting, and he finally forces himself to pull out of her. She winces as he slips out, and lets herself be pulled into his arms as he gathers her up beside him, putting a hand upon her hip, her backside pressed into his torso.

“I’ve never come like that before,” she admits softly. “From just sex alone.”

“I’d take credit for it with my amazing sexual prowess,” Mulder says, absently petting her hair, the after effects of his orgasm causing the corner of his eyes to feel heavy with exhaustion. “But I’m pretty sure that wasn’t just your normal, every day lay.”

“No it wasn’t,” she agrees, and Mulder can hear the worry in her voice.

“Hey,” he says into her ear. “Don’t.”

She glances over her shoulder at him. “Don’t what?”

“Think.”

“I’m not,” she protests, but Mulder shakes his head.

“You are, I can hear it, don’t. I know you’re worrying, but don’t.”

She says nothing for a long moment. “What if we’ve just changed everything?” she says finally.

“What if we’ve changed it for the better?” Mulder counters, and Scully looks unconvinced—a look he’s familiar with, and maybe it’s the post coital glow, but it makes him laugh. She scowls at him at first, until a smile overtakes her, and soon she’s laughing too, and Mulder nuzzles his forehead against her shoulder blade, and places soft kisses along her neck.

“The real question,” he asks, starting to fall into what’s sure to be a heavy sleep. “Is how did we manage to make it this long without ever doing that?”

He feels her smile.

“Must be an X-File,” she says.

#fox mulder #dana scully #msr #msr fanfic #txf #the x-files #the x-files fanfic #mine #long post

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