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scullydubois · 4 years ago

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Only the Light Ch. 13

As Scully copes with her diagnosis, Mulder joins her for the Scully family Christmas dinner. Plus, Melissa's girlfriend meets the family.

TW for disordered eating, cigarette smoking, references to abduction/medical rape.

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Self destruction is a natural impulse for Dana Scully, though she’ll try to deny it. Take one unexplained abduction, add a dash of premature menopause, and sift out time spent proving Mulder wrong, and you’ll get a struggling Scully.

She can tell she’s entering a bad mental state when food becomes a suggestion rather than a necessity. Every bite is either earned according to whatever trivial rules she’s set for herself in that particular moment, or is not deserved and therefore not eaten. It’s a game where she’s the coach, player, and referee, yet she still loses every time. Nourishment is both prize and punishment, feeding her hunger but vacating her control.

This habit started when she was a teenager and wracked with feelings her petite frame couldn’t contain. It felt much safer than the route her siblings had taken of sneaking out in the middle of the night or using fake IDs to buy alcohol or skipping church on the regular. As far as fifteen-year-old her was concerned, she wasn’t bothering anyone by foregoing some meals. Her mother disagreed and called her out every time, humiliating her into her second coping mechanism, smoking.

There were the times when Scully was really young and enticed by her sister’s cigarettes, but that was simple preteen rebellion. What developed when Dana was seventeen was something different entirely. A survival mechanism with poison inside, snuffing herself out while keeping her alive and sane. She would walk to the gas station and buy packs of Marlboros with coins from her piggy bank. The laws were lax in the 80s, the prices too. She would blow rings of smoke while walking home, then hide the pack in her bra and swish some mouthwash. She’d repeat the process to and from school, steadily acquiring a nasty nicotine habit. It continued until the summer before college, when she made herself go cold turkey so as not to take the habit with her. As far as she knows, neither her parents nor any of her siblings ever knew about it.

It resurfaces in times of stress, though normally for no more than a single pack. Lately she’s accustomed to keeping a pack and a lighter with her at all times. Her building is smoke free so she steps outside, but her car is off limits because she doesn’t want the smell to cling to her. It is a hassle, but then again, so are most things.

Missy knows about the poor eating habits--those are hard to hide from someone who shares the same space as you. Nevermind the fact that the scale shows six less pounds than before, and that adds up when the number’s not that large to begin with. Scully’s edges protrude now...that can’t be hidden.

Missy never says a word. She remembers Dana complaining about their mother’s condescending comments about her weight, and she knows the damage that does to a young psyche. Instead, she offers. Healthy meals, guilty pleasure meals, all her sister’s favorites. She cooks more than she ever has before, well aware that her sister will struggle to refuse her.

“I recognize what you’re doing,” Missy told her sister when she tried to turn away a caesar salad, of all things. “I’ve been known to do that too,” Missy admitted. “Eat. You’re hungry, you just think not eating will give you some form of control over your body, or your life...but wasting yourself away is letting the bastards win.”

And so she did, that time at least. Scully has enough shame regarding her habit to push it aside whenever confronted---that’s how she insists to herself that it’s not an eating disorder. She can stop on command. That makes it okay, right?

Getting back into the office helped her a lot---you can’t starve yourself and function as an FBI agent. Besides, she would dissolve into thin air if Mulder figured out what she was doing. He was the one who batted around the idea of Scully helping prep each case and supervising any tests he might need the crime lab to do while he’s in the field. He understood that in lieu of therapy, she needed something to take her out of her own mind.

It was as much for him as it was her; at this point, it’s almost incomprehensible to him that the X-Files had existed before her. Of course he was the laughingstock of the FBI! He had huddled in the basement by himself with UFOs and blurry Bigfoot sightings pinned on the wall like a shrine to his own delusion.

Her fall from grace was his absolution. He’ll make an angel of her, somehow. Even if it means he has to meet the devil.

Scully has no interest in becoming an angel, though she’d sure like to avoid hell, and that hasn’t worked out too well. Locker room jokes are one thing. Underestimation another. But assault? Rape? Trauma and torture because she is who she is doing what she does? She is not a quitter, and that is killing her.

Her barrenness haunts her because it was bestowed upon her as punishment, an implication that she only has worth as a walking womb. She wants to be seen as a person, not a pawn.

The arrival of the holiday season is another weight on her shoulders. It used to be Scully’s favorite time of year; now the sight of carolers makes her want to poke her eyes out. It’s the first Christmas without her father, and that is simply unimaginable. Her and Missy spent a quiet Thanksgiving with their mother---small portions and whispered thanks--in preparation for an elaborate family Christmas. Bill Jr. and Tara are flying in from California for the annual Christmas dinner and midnight mass. They will all try to move forward, pretend it’s just like any other year, but it’s not and it never will be again. Happy Christmases are over for the Scully family.

And yet, they will try to enjoy the moment. Missy told her mom that she’s bringing a friend, which is completely true. Trinity is her closest friend that she doesn’t share blood with. That said, she plans to use the occasion to introduce Trinity as her girlfriend, come what may.

Then there was the suggestion that their mother made, which caught her youngest daughter completely off guard. “Why don’t you bring Fox?” Margaret Scully proposed demurely during their weekly phone call. “I’m making a zoo’s worth of food, I could use another mouth to feed. I hate to see any of it go to waste.”

“Mulder’s spending Christmas with his family, I’m sure,” Scully had replied. “But I’ll pass along the offer.”

That was how Scully learned that Mulder’s family isn’t much for celebration, that he usually spends the holiday flipping between It’s A Wonderful Life and the 24 hour marathon of A Christmas Story, and that he has a particular fascination with the idea of midnight mass.

“I just don’t get it,” Mulder mused. “You believe that a jolly old man with flying reindeer leaves presents in your house, but you think he waits until after you’ve gotten home from celebrating Baby Jesus’ birthday? Didn’t you ever look for his sleigh in the sky on the drive home?”

“No, Mulder,” Scully sighed. “I just believed that he knew when we were tucked in bed. Santa’s all-seeing, you know,” she teased.

Mulder chuckled. “Kind of presumptuous to assume he functions on your schedule, huh?”

Ultimately, Mulder said yes. He figured attending the Catholic equivalent of Jesus’ birthday party would be another check off his supernatural bucket list, though he did not say this part out loud for fear of Dana Scully’s wrath. Besides, what else was he gonna do on Christmas Eve? Shake the shoebox of junk he stuck under his mini-basketball hoop so he felt like he was getting a gift?

And so the fateful day arrives. Mulder flips his Garfield page-a-day calendar to December 24th, chuckles at the comic strip of the orange cat eating all his owner’s Christmas cookies, and makes his way to his partner’s increasingly familiar doorstep. The sun has already slipped behind the trees by the time he arrives. It gives up easily in the winter.

He rings the bell and hears Scully’s dainty footsteps on the other side. She’s snuck up on him enough times for him to have developed a keen sense of her light footing--no more jump scares for him.

“Hey Scully,” he stammers as she opens the door. She had told him to look “festive,” so he donned his nicest green sweater (a gift from his mom from J. Crew...he had never worn it) and slacks. Scully rounds out their show of holiday spirit with a velvet red blouse and black trousers.

“You look lovely,” Mulder says reflexively, unsure when he started using such a word. Scully pulls at her shirt, obscuring the bit of cleavage that has revealed itself. “Thanks Mulder,” she mutters, ushering him inside.

He holds up the shiny silver gift bag he hastily stuffed with tissue paper. “Some candy canes I picked up at the gas station. I figured the whole family could enjoy them.”

Scully nods, amused by his feeble attempt at gifting. “I’m sure they won’t go to waste.”

A fire crackles in the fireplace. It’s so hot in the apartment that Mulder is surprised it hasn’t melted the snow outside on the sidewalk.

“Where’s Melissa?” he asks, hoping they will hit the road sooner than later.

“She’s picking up her girlfriend from the airport. She couldn’t get an earlier flight.”

“Dulles?” He sure hopes not. It’s all the way across town.

“No, Reagan.”

Whew. Much closer.

“She should be back any minute now,” Scully continues. “Trinity’s flight got in at 3:30.”

Mulder rolls his sleeves up. “So your family doesn’t know about Trinity?”

Scully shakes her head.

“Do they know that Melissa’s…” He gestures, unsure which word to fill the space with.

“Bi? No.”

“So she shows up with Trinity, and then what?”

Scully shrugs. “She introduces her as her girlfriend. Mom already knows Missy is bringing a guest so she’ll have a plate for her.”

“You’re not worried about how the family’s gonna react?”

“Well, I’m sure Bill is gonna be a dick about it, but that’s normal. We only see him once a year, so it doesn’t really matter.”

“Bill’s your brother?”

“Uh-huh. And Tara is his wife. They got married about a year and a half ago.”

Even as he pushes into his thirties, it still surprises Mulder that anyone close to his age could be married. He doesn’t even sleep in a bed.

“You think your mom’s gonna be cool with Trinity?” he asks.

“I think she loves her daughter enough to be.”

“Mmm.” Mulder sticks his hands in his pockets. If only he had dilemmas like this. He imagines him and Samantha speculating about their mother’s reaction to Sam’s nose piercing or dyed hair or...anything really. He would give so much to have someone to laugh about his uncle’s sideburns with.

His emotional deep-dive is promptly cut off by the entrance of Melissa and a brunette woman whose bangs graze her eyebrows, her hair falling just below her shoulder. “Hi!” she chirps, taking in the magnificence of Dana Scully. “Dana, I presume?”

Scully nods.

“May I hug you?” Trinity asks, hazel eyes shining.

“Sure,” Scully says, feeling the brisk air against Trinity’s coat as she’s pulled in.

Scully lets go first, and Trinity takes that as a cue to pull away. “You look just like Mel, wow,” she remarks, fighting the urge to run her fingers through Scully’s hair.

Scully smiles softly. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

“Oh, it is,” Trinity assures, exchanging a gooey gaze with Missy. Next, her attention falls upon Mulder, who does an awkward half-wave. “Hello!” She points between Mulder and Scully. “Boyfriend?”

Mulder chokes. Scully picks up his slack--”Oh, no. This is Fox Mulder, my partner at the FBI.”

“Ahh,” Trinity smiles knowingly. “Yes, I’ve heard about you. I didn’t know you would be joining us for Christmas.”

“Christmas is not exactly my family’s cup of tea, so I figured I’d get an authentic experience with the Scullys.”

“Same! I’m looking forward to Mama Scully’s ginger snaps. I’ve heard fantastic things about them.”

Mulder elbows his partner playfully. “Damn, Scully! How could you leave me in the dark about ginger snaps?”

Scully rolls her eyes but smiles. “I apologize, Mulder. Though for the record, the fruitcake is better.”

“Says no one, ever,” Mulder teases.

She grins. Now this is Christmas.

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

Taking a seat at Margaret Scully’s dinner table feels like existing inside a Christmas movie, in Mulder’s mind. Fancy china, green and red serving platters, paper mache snowflakes hanging from the ceiling, and a porcelain nativity scene; the dining room has it all. Not to mention the heaping piles of food there for the taking...if this is Christmas, Mulder wants in every year.

Scully does not share his cinematic fantasy. She knows better, having actually attended one of her family’s dinners before. Bill will get too drunk and start saying whatever comes to mind, their mother will laugh along like he’s still a five year old babbling about nothing (as opposed to the thirty-something spewing bullshit that he actually is), Missy will attempt to debate him to get him to shut up (which never works), and she will sit there and wish to be somewhere, anywhere else. And all without their father to hold the reins and keep a fight from breaking out.

The night has gone smoothly enough, Scully supposes. Missy introduced Trinity as her girlfriend in a very non-ceremonial way, forcing Bill and their mother to nod and accept it, in the moment at least. Mulder received a hug from Margaret and a pat on the shoulder from Bill, so pretty much the highest token of approval. Mulder’s candy canes earned a place in the center of the dessert table, which gave him way more satisfaction than it should have, and he couldn’t help but feel that if they were to vote on favorite man at the party, he would win. A room with Bill Jr. in it is probably the only place he would ever earn this honor, and he’ll take that.

Yet everything unwinds as Scully suspected. Bill waits until everyone has packed plates and full mouths to unleash his particular hyperfixation for the night.

“Trinity?” he questions, raising his fork diagonal across the table toward her. “Is that your name?”

Trinity smiles and nods, oblivious to what she’s in for.

“And you know Melissa how…?”

She pats a napkin to her mouth. “We worked at the same restaurant in Oregon.”

He chuckles gruffly. “What was it, one of those gay bar things?”

“No, an Italian bistro,” Trinity continues calmly.

Missy, however, is not so calm. “Gay people can go places other than gay bars,” she retorts. “We’re not segregated. Though I’m sure you’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

Bill sets a fist on the table, clanging his silverware. “Yeah, that’s what I said. Why the hell do you insist on being so politically correct all the time? I’d shoot myself.”

“Gee, maybe you should try it sometime.”

“Now Melissa…” Margaret Scully’s voice rises above the clamor.

“I have the right to defend my girlfriend and I against Bill’s thinly disguised homophobia,” Missy responds.

“You act like I give a damn what you and your friend do,” Bill sneers. “That’s not my business.”

“Then stop pretending like it is.”

“Oh boo-hoo, little Missy thinks the world revolves around her.”

“Bill, honey, I think that’s enough,” Tara says, laying a protective hand on his arm.

“You’re right.” He raises his can of beer toward Mulder. “Whaddya doin here, hot shot? Trying to seduce my sister?”

Scully frowns, but doesn’t say anything, pushing food around on her plate.

Mulder seems rather unbothered by Bill’s advances. He chuckles. “Actually, I think it’s the other way around.”

Bill snorts. “That’s a likely story.”

“You don’t think I’m worth your sister’s time?”

“I don’t think Dana thinks you're worth her time. You’re not her type.”

“I am sitting right here, you know,” Scully says, staring daggers at her brother.

“Then tell us Dana! Is hot shot here your type?”

Her eyes brush Mulder’s face. His cheeks flush, reddening like a stormy sunset. She wishes she could read his mind. The safe answer and the true answer are not often the same. “I think Mulder is a wonderful man. I’m very lucky to know him,” she answers stiffly, her annoyance aimed at Bill.

“Oh, the old run-around!” Bill scraps his fork against his plate. ”Typical.”

Scully grabs her now empty canned cocktail and sulks into the kitchen, leaving her chair pushed away from the table. Everyone watches her go, but Bill gives off the only visible reaction. He laughs. “Scared her away. Thought it would take more.”

Mulder and Melissa exchange a glance. She nods, granting him permission to play knight-in-shining-armor. Quietly, Mulder slips out of his chair and pushes it back into place. He catches the kitchen door as it swings closed behind his partner.

Her anger concealed from the rest of the family, Scully drops her can in the recycling bin with a bang. She ignores Mulder, instead opening the refrigerator and pulling out another cocktail, saying nothing.

“What is this, your fifth drink?” Mulder brushes his hand over her shoulder, and she recoils. “Leave me alone, Mulder.” She slams the fridge and tries to turn around, but he’s cornered her.

“C’mon Scully, Bill’s harmless. He doesn’t bother me.”

“It’s not fucking about Bill,” she fumes, alcohol fizzing through her bloodstream. She inhales, trying to keep it together in front of the man who has done nothing wrong to her. “Please get out of my way.”

“What’s wrong?” He frames her shoulders with his hands, creating their own little bubble.

“Don’t touch me!” she growls. Mulder knows as soon as hears it: he will never forget the pure anguish in her voice. As she retreats to the corner, he looks down at his palms, the stovetop that burned her...he would cut them off if he could.

Unfortunately, the commotion attracts the Scully’s like a dog whistle. Bill leads the charge into the kitchen, getting a full view of his sister hunched over by the back door while her partner stands by the fridge like an idiot. “Ooo, a lover’s spat!” he exclaims, only nominally concerned about Dana’s well-being.

“Shut up, Bill,” Missy hisses. To everyone’s relief, he does.

Mrs. Scully comes forward, maneuvering around Mulder to get to her daughter. “Are you alright, Dana?”

Scully keeps her back to the crowd. “I just need a minute.” She taps her pocket, confirms that she slipped her pack of cigarettes in. “I’ll be outside. Everyone can go back to dinner, please.”

She twists the doorknob and steps onto the back deck without waiting for any response. Mulder feels the tug of tears in his throat, like a dormant animal waking up in him. He is used to being hurt (though not by Scully, never her), but inflicting the hurt is a whole other beast. He doesn’t know what he’s done, but he doesn’t need to. The look in her eyes, put there by what he thought was a harmless touch, made his heart tremble. He is frozen in place, grateful when Melissa appears at his side as the rest of the party returns to the dining room.

“I didn’t mean to upset her, I was trying to make her feel better about Bill…” he laments.

“I’m sure, I’m sure. It’s not you specifically, she’s going through a lot right now--you know.”

Mulder rubs his neck. “I don’t know if I do.”

“She hasn’t shared her diagnosis?”

His eyes nearly pop out of their sockets. “Diagnosis?! Is she okay?”

Missy sighs. “I think you two need to talk. If she gets pissed, tell her I sent you.”

“Wait, wait, wait. Tell me if she’s okay.”

“She’s okay. It’s not fatal or anything.”

“She would tell me, if it was...wouldn’t she?”

Missy bites her lip. “I don’t know, Fox---Mulder. I would hope so, but I was under the impression you already knew about this, and you see how that’s gone.”

Mulder turns toward the back door, desperation living in his voice. “I’ve gotta go. I’ve gotta check on her.”

Missy nods. “Don’t let her weasel her way out of this one. I’m expecting a heart-to-heart, mushiness and all.”

“Aye aye, captain.”

He turns the back doorknob and slips through the door, trying to imitate his partner’s ninja skills. The old wood on the door frame shakes as he shuts it. He winces--so much for the sneak attack.

Mulder follows the arc of the deck, winter’s bite colliding with him. He didn’t have a chance to grab his jacket, and now that he’s thinking about it, Scully didn’t either. He can grin and bear it but she is all skin and bones, now more than ever. It scares him to see her like that, but it’s none of his business, he feels, to comment on her body. He can break her fall, but he must not provide an extra push.

The wind has no friends to protect nor foes to defeat, so it will give away anyone. It carries the unmistakable tarnish of smoke to Mulder’s nose, an ashy haze that has come to remind him of Skinner’s office and the shadow lingering in the corner. He almost expects to find him there with his Morleys and his sadistic laugh. Instead, he finds a redhead and her Marlboros shrinking against the December cold snap.

“Bum a cig, ma’am?” He scoots up to her, ready to retrieve his own smoke from her long, slender fingers.

“Mulder!” She pulls the cigarette away from her, holding her last puff captive in her lungs.

He wiggles his fingers like an impatient child. “We’re all gonna die someday, right?”

Her jig up, she rolls her shoulders back and releases the smoke with a great rise and fall of her chest. It mingles in the air with the chill of her breath, becoming one and the same as they leave the contours of her body. Head tilted back and lips parted, she is alive with nicotine’s ease and intoxication’s freedom.

It is better than porn, according to one Fox William Mulder. He’ll keep this observation to himself for now.

“Did your parents never teach you that sharing is caring?” he rambles. “C’mon, give me a light!”

“It’s a nasty habit, Mulder.”

“I’m a connoisseur of those,” he replies loosely. “Now, you’re not gonna make me put you in a headlock are ya?”

Scully rolls her eyes. She’s never felt less threatened in her life. “You’re exhausting, do you know that?”

“I’ve heard it a time or two.”

She pulls a cigarette from her carton and slips it into his fingers. They are warm; hers are ice-cold. “I wanted to be alone.” She hands him the lighter, watches as he generates heat from thin air.

He lights his cig and sticks the lighter in his pocket rather than handing it back to her. “According to my calculations, you should be very drunk right now. Other than your Oscar bait performance back there, you’ve got things pretty under control I’d say.”

Scully gestures at her cigarette smoking, teeth chattering self. “Yeah, I’m the picture of health.”

“Do you have some exceptional alcohol tolerance I should know about, because that’d make you very valuable in undercover work.”

Scully gazes out into the distance. She’d smile if she were to look at him right now, and that doesn’t feel right for the situation. “Those drinks have low alcohol content, Mulder. You can buy them at Dollar General.”

“You ever looked at their hand sanitizer? It’s like 95% alcohol.”

“Well, now I know where you go to get your fix.”

He chuckles. “You got me.”

She stuffs her hands in her pockets and he wishes, god he wishes, that he had grabbed his jacket. He’d take off his sweater if she wanted him to--stand there with his bare chest to the cold--but he has a feeling that would only exacerbate the situation.

He tries a more gentlemanly route. “Do you want me to grab your jacket? I won’t give away your trade secrets.”

She folds herself together. “No, it’s okay. It’ll make me get a move on at some point.”

They stand united in their rebellion, blowing smoke and freezing their asses off. Who needs Christmas cheer when you’ve got Christmas resentment?

Mulder sways a bit to keep his blood circulating. He is careful not to bump her. “You wanna tell me why you’re out-Scrooging Scrooge this year?” he prompts as gently as he can.

“In case you haven’t noticed, it hasn’t exactly been the best year of my life.”

“I gathered that, yeah.”

“And it’s the first Christmas without my father…” her voice warbles.

“Shit, right. I’m sorry,” Mulder murmurs.

“...So it just doesn’t feel very celebratory.” She takes a long drag. Mulder can tell that this secret smoking habit is not new to her, and he wonders when she picked it up, how long she has kept it from him.

He takes a deep breath, watches as it is written in the air. “Melissa told me you received a diagnosis, and I think we’ve already established that sharing is caring…”

Scully looks him in the eyes for the first time since he joined her. It has the sudden intensity of a black-and-white film, Scully the 1940s scarlet and he the leading man who pales in comparison to her. There is no one he’d rather be overshadowed by.

“It’s humiliating,” she croaks. “Missy and my mom are the only ones who know.”

“I’ve got the monopoly on humiliation in this partnership, so I wouldn’t worry about that,” he says, flicking some ashes to the ground.

“This is a particular form of humiliation you can’t experience, I’m afraid. Or at least, it wouldn’t impact you the same way.”

“Let’s hear it.”

She sighs. “My abductors removed all of my eggs, causing my menstrual cycle to shut down and me to enter perimenopause.”

His breath catches in his throat. “Jesus christ.”

“Uh-huh.”

He throws his cigarette on the ground and stamps it out, though it could have burned longer. “That’s fucking horrifying, Scully. You’ve got to inform the Bureau. We’ve got to catch these--whatever they are. We’ve got to make them pay.”

“No, Mulder. It’s too much. I don’t want to keep reliving it, I want to be able to move on with my life.”

“How can you move on when they’re still out there, probably doing it to more women?”

She shakes her head, feeling the snag of tears and holding them back for fear they might freeze on her face. “I don’t know, but I can’t think about it like that. It sort of...shatters everything, the idea that this could be a phenomenon happening to other women in secret. I wouldn’t believe it if it didn’t happen to me. I still don’t believe it.”

Mulder shudders. He can’t discern whether it’s from the cold or their conversation. “Do you think it was men who took you? Or do you believe Duane Barry?”

“It seems like a level of monstrosity that only man could achieve. It requires a certain understanding of society, gender roles...dehumanization that only humans could perpetuate.”

Mulder nods. Her reasoning tracks, but the thought of him failing to outsmart humans who stole away his partner is something he cannot fully process. It makes sense that he couldn’t find her if she was in space, but if she was on the face of the Earth, he had no damn excuse.

“You were just gone, Scully...you were just gone.” His aching is so palpable, his voice a cliff’s edge they could both tumble down.

“I know I was.” She takes one last puff, then lets her cigarette fall to the ground. She crushes it with her heel, her force premeditated and brutal. That pain is for the ones who took her, the ones who have obviously never loved a thing at all.

Head bowed, she moves toward the door, but not without grasping for Mulder’s elbow, assuring that he is following behind. He is and he will be, for as long as she lets him.

Inside, the home’s manufactured warmth hits them, unreal in comparison to the cold they have known. The kitchen is as quiet as it was before their ordeal, the dining room empty aside from Mrs. Scully clearing serving platters.

“Where did everyone go?” Scully asks, momentarily alarmed that she may have ruined the entire gathering.

“We’re going to drive around and look at lights before mass. Everyone’s getting ready.”

“Oh.” She looks to Mulder, as if to check that he hasn’t left her stranded. “I think I’ll stay here,” she tells her mother. “Make a cup of hot chocolate and relax for a bit.”

“Well, you’ll be missed. Fox, would you like to join us?”

He takes a leap, hopes he’s got the right idea. “I’ll stay here, but thank you.”

“As you wish,” Mrs. Scully says with a slight smile. Mulder had never noticed her resemblance to her daughter until that moment. It was like looking at a sketch of a famous painting; the lines are there but the colors missing.

Soon enough the crowd leaves and Scully and Mulder settle on the couch with mugs of hot cocoa. Margaret Scully’s tree forms the centerpiece of the living room, and it’s hard not to admire its gold and red decorations and the shiny angel on top.

“That’s gorgeous. Does she do it every year?” Mulder asks, ignoring the steam rising out of his mug and going right in for the kill.

Scully nods. “Every year since we were kids. There used to be a lot more homemade ornaments, but I guess she swapped those for a more elegant look now that we’re grown.”

“Well, it’s beautiful.” He looks at her, curled up with the glow of the fireplace falling upon her, and he feels warmth and safety like never before. It would be so easy to slip in “and so are you,” it is practically begging to be said. But she wouldn’t believe him if he said it now; she would think it was a pity compliment. Instead, he mouths the words, and she is not looking, and that is okay.

She snuggles deeper into the cushions, closing her eyes and letting her mind wander. She is the most at ease she has been in months--here in the house she lived in during high school with the fireplace crackling and her partner by her side--and that’s not what she expected from Christmas Eve. Heaven strokes her skin, and she blinks her eyes open to find Mulder tucking her in with her mother’s microfiber blanket. She smiles her soft Scully smile. “Thank you,” she coos, burrowing herself deeper into the blanket’s embrace.

“You’re welcome,” Mulder whispers into her ear. His fingers tangle in her hair as he pulls her toward him, his lips meeting her temple. She catalogues the feeling for her memory bank: chapped but carrying the hot chocolate’s warmth. She will spend the next while convinced that it was a dream, a fleeting image in the moments before sleep, but she will carry the feeling until she feels it again.

#in true x files fashion it's an angsty christmas with some fluff at the end #just pretend that christmas hasnt passed haha #guest starring: bill jr being a dick #and missy's gf <3 #if you continue to follow this I'm literally in love with you thank you #the x-files #only the light fic #txf #txf fic #missy and scully fic #fox mulder #dana scully #melissa scully #mine

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ateezmakemeweep · 5 years ago

Photo

richboy!seonghwa (part 25)

word count: 9k

angst, fluff, smut

(part 24) (series masterlist)

with only a week left of break, you and yeosang intended to make the most of it. he had taken you on dates nearly every day, whether it be to dinner or iceskating or sledding followed by hot chocolate and movies on his couch.

but there was one more thing he wanted to do with you.

which is why he planned a weekend trip to the ski lodge, surprising you two nights ago when he told you to pack a bag and that he'd pick you up at eight o'clock in the morning. it's also why you currently have a death grip on his hand, looking down at the snowy hill and remembering why the hell you hadn't been too keen on skiing last time.

"yeosang, i'm gonna break my leg."

"you're not gonna break your leg," he tells you, hearing the smile in his voice as you stare down at all of the trees and people and bushes you could potentially crash into you. "but i am getting sick of waiting so if you don't do it in two minutes, i'm pushing you."

you snap your head to look at him, eyes full of betrayal and outrage. "don't you dare!"

"baby, i showed you what to do for the last two hours."

"and i'm not ready!" you whine, "why couldn't we just go ice skating here?"

"why do you think?" he asks lowly, eyebrow quirked up as he looks over your face knowingly.

"seonghwa!" you squeal, eyes roaming the sunny, snowy landscape before turning around excitedly. "this is so pretty!" you squeak.

"aren't you," he mumbles, placing his hands on your already cold, red cheeks. "but i told you to wear a hat."

"i forgot," you whine, "and don't think we're gonna graze over that cheesy line!" a giant smirk covers his face as he takes the black hat off his head to secure it over yours. you both giggle when he tugs it too far down, blocking your eyes for a minute and when he pulls it back up, he's bent down slightly so you're face to face.

"there you are," he says playfully and you roll your eyes despite the smile threatening to spread across your face. it's not until he takes your hand and walks a few feet behind him that you notice the two pairs of ice skates in the snow.

"is this safe to skate on?" you ask and he looks at you with a mock look of hurt, pushing snow off the bench before guiding you to sit.

"would i really suggest we do something that'd harm you?" he asks while taking off your snow boots.

"well i did just think you were going to murder me," you quip sarcastically and he rolls his eyes, shimming the skate on your foot and tying them up. "how'd you know my size?"

"i guessed," he says shyly and you smile down at him. "you were right!"

"you were wrong!" you screech, the sound of your high-pitched yelp echoing in the cold air, "i'm still gonna break my leg! there's no side to hold onto!"

"you haven't even stepped on the ice, y/n," seonghwa says, humor in his tone despite standing there with his arm outstretched for the past twenty minutes.

"i'm scared!"

"i told you i'm not gonna let you fall," he says, skating towards you and what is with rich people and their full capabilities for winter sports? "can't you trust me?"

your face falls, eyes diverting as a tiny huff leaves your mouth: perhaps the reminder was a little too much for both of you. but when you guys had passed it on your way, you remembered how much fun it was. how pretty the view was and how light-hearted you were despite the drama that had followed.

but it was nothing like the reminder you and yeosang had walking into the elevator this morning, coy smirks and your cheeks flushing as your boyfriend said you all but attacked him.

"i attacked you?!" you yelped in outrage, pushing him to the side lightly. "don't even try it."

and naturally, the boy had flung himself into the wall, raising an eyebrow at you teasingly as if to say 'round two?' but before you could say a sassy comment, roll your eyes and teasingly berate him, he reached out and grabbed you. your bodies collided shortly followed by your lips, the kiss and tongue slipping into your mouth quickly humbling you.

it had all the same passion and intensity as last time, except this one felt a little more...familiar. it wasn't as sloppy and rough, as charged with overwhelming anger or sexual tension. he pulls back and looks over your face, the smirk tugging at his red lips.

"were you trying to say something?"

you roll your eyes at the boy, pushing him further back into the wall and tugging his mouth back down to yours. "shut up."

"shut up," you grumble to yeosang who only lets out a snort, the hand not being crushed by yours on the small of your back.

"one minute," he says lowly.

"yeosang, no!" you whine, craning your neck to look at him with a pout. "i'm not ready."

"you are, i promise," he says, placing a peck on your nose that two little kids flying by on skies gag at. the both of you look at one another and burst into laughter, yeosang half tempted to crush your lips against his and really make a scene. but because there's only about 40-seconds left, and you haven't conquered your skiing fear yet, he refrains.

"i don't think i am," you say, "i think i'm gonna fall into a tree and die."

"i'm gonna be right next to you the whole time," he says, lifting his hand up to play with the pom-pom of your hat. "worse comes to worse i break your fall and i die."

you snap your head to look at your boyfriend, the bewildered expression on your face bringing a wide, handsome smile to his face. "that doesn't make me feel better! in fact, it's making me feel a lot worse and i think we should just-"

"knees bent. arms in front. slow."

and with that, he lightly pushes at your back and there your skis go, gliding easily down the snow. the surprised shriek leaves your mouth causes yeosang to snort, rolling his eyes as he watches you from right beside him.

your feet are steady under you and you're going a whole lot slower than you thought, feeling yeosang's presence next to you and hearing his quiet, approving hums.

"not as bad as you thought, huh?"

"it's....kind of fun," you admit. because even though you're moving at a snail's pace and 7-year-old's are zipping by you, you're able to do it.

you haven't toppled down the hill or twisted your ankle and crashed into a tree. the snow is firm under you and the hill is covered in white, picturesque snow with the bright winter sun shining in the sky.

you giggle when yeosang zips in and out of you like the show off he is, squealing when he falters ever so slightly. but he confidently recovers and shakes his head, insisting it'd take a lot more than that for him to fall, especially on the bunny hill.

"i'm yeosang, i'm so cool and athletic! i'll never fall, especially on the bunny hill. because don't you know who i am? i'm a big strong masculine man."

your boyfriend looks at you from his seat on the first-aid chair, the attendant dapping at his cheek with an alcohol pad not being able to hold back a snort. yeosang snaps his head to look at the girl, squinting his eyes at her before letting out a huff.

"i thought you were falling so i moved too fast."

"uh huh," you say, your eyebrows quirked up and a sarcastic smile on your face. you giggle into your hand when a large band-aid covers his cheek, the girl telling him apologetically they ran out of the smaller sized ones.

"this is ridiculous, y/n, i'm taking it off," he tells you, your hands intertwined as you walk out of the small first-aid station.

"you can't!" you squeal, smacking his chest lightly. "at least not yet." your eyes catch a familiar looking cafe down the street and you smile up at him, telling him how much better his crushed ego and scratched cheek would feel after a hot chocolate.

"my ego isn't crushed," he grumbles. you giggle, tightening your hand in his before speed walking towards the warm cafe. he tells you over and over how he really thought you were gonna fall, how instead of making fun of him you should be thanking him.

"thank you for saving me from not falling and instead, messing up your face," you tell him as you wait in line, rubbing over the band-aid with a slight pout. "hopefully it doesn't scar. might have to break up with you then."

his eyes narrow at he shakes his head, ripping his hand from yours and pulling you into his chest. "you're such a little shit today," he mumbles lowly in your ear. "just wait till i get you alone tonight."

you bite your lip to hide your smile, looking up at him and resting your chin on his chest. "till we're alone?" you ask, "what are we gonna do?"

they call next and and yeosang orders two hot chocolates, your body still tucked under his arm and making the two workers behind the counter smile sadly; there's something about seeing two people in love that makes their lonely selves sad. they watch you both bounce away happily, your pleas about wanting to pay for just one thing outweighed by him promising that'll never happen.

"they're cute," the one worker mumbles to the other. "sickeningly," the other comments, watching as you guys take a seat by the window. "must be nice."

"how 'bout i buy you a souvenir?" you insist, "like a 'my girlfriend bought me this shirt' or something!"

yeosang's face twists into one of utter disgust, shaking his head immediately. "i think i would've preferred my face getting sliced open."

you throw your head back in laughter, yeosang's deep chuckle and soft eyes watching you causing your whole chest to feel warm. everything with him is so easy and fun and natural, an instinctual connection and banter that has a certain four letter word on the tip of your tongue.

you'd never said that to anyone before and the thought of saying it kind of scares you. not because you don't think the feelings will be mutual (though you really don't know, that could be the case even though you sincerely hope it isn't) but also because it's such a turning point in a relationship. it's an extra layer of vulnerability stripped away and really will make everything feel so incredibly serious and real.

his name is called from the counter and he cranes his neck around, two cups steaming with a cookie in between causing him to jump up. "be right back," he says, winking when you sees you let out a sigh; you could've at least gotten it since he paid.

you watch him confidently walk up to the counter, rolling your eyes playfully before looking out the window. the sun is about to set, the last few brave skiers finishing their last trail for the day skillfully. it felt like you were just at this lodge last week opposed to almost five months ago, five months full of drama and confusion and heartbreak.

"thank you," you say quietly, "i have cash if you-"

his blank stare causes the words to die in your throat. so instead, you mirror him and take the hot cup in your hands, closing your eyes contently when the warmness hits your cold hands. you take a little sip to test the temperature, humming when you discover it's not burning and take a longer sip.

you pull back and seonghwa laughs, reaching his hand out to wipe the little bit of foam off your top lip. you swallow nervously, shyly looking down and another laugh leaves his mouth.

"what, that was too much for you but not falling right on top of me?"

you head pops up at his teasing tone, a surprised look on your face that he just called you out for getting shy.

"that was an accident," you grumble, "i told you the bunny hill was too daunting."

"little kids were lapping you," he says with a smile, "not by a little either."

you squint your eyes at him, taking another sip of your drink until you start to roam his face. because you can't look at him for that long or your heart starts to malfunction and it's then you realize how red his ears are.

"seonghwa! your ears!" you squeak.

"what about them?" he asks, one hand shooting up to feel it, "oh, it's cold."

"cold?! it looks freezing!" you reach out to touch it and gasp when it feels like ice. he watches as you take the scarf off from around your neck quickly and stand, looking at you warily.

"what are you-"

he can only freeze as you make your way in front of him, wrapping the beige and red fabric around his head and he's never felt more ridiculous but happy in his life. you make sure to cover his ears before pulling back to peak at him.

it makes you burst out laughing.

"aw, you look cute," you tell him sweetly because oh my, god he looks cute.

"i look like a grandmother."

"okay, but a cute warm grandmother whose ears won't fall off," you say as you sit back down, smiling to yourself as you take out your phone.

"what are you-"

"smile!"

you shake your head of the memory, looking at the view outside of the window and then down at the table. you swallow and breathe out shakily, feeling a slight pit in your stomach. because while this trip is great with yeosang, there's also a lot of reminders. reminders of seonghwa and reminders of how you felt back then and how you and your boyfriend were still rocky and fighting.

until you weren't. until he showed you another side of him that he'd never shown anyone and the inklings of just how good you guys seem to be for each other started to show. but still, it makes a part of you sad. makes you wish you had handled things differently and-

you jump when the tray clatters against the table, looking up at yeosang who's watching you carefully. "what's wrong?" he asks and you're not surprised in the slightest that he can tell your mind was just clouded and occupied.

"nothing, just thinking," you hum, bringing the cup to your lips and smiling at the chocolatey scent wafting in your nose. he watches you sip down the drink with a soft look in his eye, reaching out to wipe at the foam on your lips. you jump at the feel of his cold fingers, his eyebrow shooting up at you.

"something's wrong with you," he says again. but you only shake your head, knocking his foot under the table playfully.

"no," you insist, "your hands are just cold."

his eyes stay on yours for a few seconds, narrowed at you like he's trying to tell if you're lying. but when you narrow yours back playfully, a smile quirks at his lips and he brings the cup to his mouth.

"hey," you say randomly, trying to stray your memories to anything but seonghwa. "can i ask you something?"

he raises his eyebrow questioningly, nodding his head at you silently.

"why'd you pay for me?" you ask him. and when his face is clouded with confusion, turning his head to the side and about to ask what you're talking about, you clarify. "for the school ski trip. i never got to ask you."

his takes a sip of his drink to hide his smirk, remembering the day he decided so vividly. She was listening to you talk to mingi and yunho so openly about your situation, remembering how you defended him even though he mostly definitely didn't deserve it.

but nevertheless, a part of him admired you. because you had been handling everything so well, the other kids and your scholarship spot, when he also knew the other half of your problems were coming from him.

"i heard you talking to pretty boy and his lover," yeosang says, a small smirk on your face at the mention of those two. "and i don't know, i just...wanted you there."

"even though you hated me?"

he lets out a scoff as he rolls his eyes, reaching out to take your face in his hand. "i never hated you," he says lowly, "but i wanted to."

you let out a snort, ripping your face from his hold as you roll your eyes back at him. "what a dick you are!"

he bites his lip to hide his smile, looking over your face with the softest expression you've ever seen. "i knew you'd break me down, somehow," he tells you casually, candidly, like he's just telling you about the weather forecast. "there was just something so...obnoxiously alluring about you."

"obnoxiously alluring," you hum, nodding your head at him skeptically. "you're killing it right now."

he smirks, playfully kicking your foot under the table. "but wasn't i correct? look at us now baby," he says, the teasing wink he throws you causing you to scoff.

"you know what else i remember?" you say after a few moments.

"hm?" he hums, not having a damn clue where your mind is deciding to go with this.

"remember when you gave me that blueberry muffin?"

a scoff leaves his mouth as he rolls his eyes, knocking your foot under the table again. "i don't know what you're talking about."

"oh no?" you giggle, turning your head to the side innocently. "because if i remember correctly, it was your favorite and you gave it to little 'ol me."

he bites the inside of his cheek as his eyes roam your face, his elbow resting on the back of his chair and you'd be lying if you said the position didn't make desire pool in your stomach.

"you're really pushing me today, aren't you?"

you bite your bottom lip, hiding your smile as you sip up the rest of your hot chocolate. you look up at him with wide, innocent eyes that are eventually what do you in for the chaos that comes your way later between the four walls of your bedroom.

because you were all giggly and teasing for the rest of night, walking through the snowy town with him as your bodies bumped into one another affectionately. but then the second you guys got to your room, you saw the change take over yeosang.

pushing you back onto the bed with a dark, heated look in his eye. his strong hands tugging at that waistband of your pants and underwear and shoving them down in one go.

"you were especially bratty today," he hums between your legs, looking up at you and smirking when he sees you're already on your back panting. his fingers trail along your slightly wet thighs, tracing shapes into your skin until a tiny whine penetrates the air.

"what was that?" you hear his voice ask, smug and teasing and almost condescending. but it's something you've come to love. "are you getting frustrated?"

"yeosang, please," you gasp out, feeling how much you've dripped between your thighs from his tantalizingly slow and close touches.

"all polite now that you're on your back," he says, feeling how hard he's grown but attempting to control himself. "tell me, baby, what is that you want?"

but before you can say anything, his finger touches your clit and you moan out loudly. he flicks at it for a few moments, listening intently to the perfect noises leaving your mouth. "do you wanna come like this?"

"yes," you pant.

so he flicks and rubs his finger skillfully over your sensitive clit, your legs shaking and moans getting louder and louder until he rips it away. you look down at him with frustrated heat in your eyes, about ready to cry because you were so close to coming.

"yeosang,"

"but what about like this?" he asks, lowering his head at you slightly before his hands hold down your hips and his tongue is on your clit. you scream out at the sudden feel of it, already stimulated and sensitive from his fingers but feeling so much more when he trails his tongue over your clit and down to your slit.

"oh, my god, please," you whine, moving your hips against his face so his mouth can go back to where you want him most. and because he already knows you're not getting what you really want, he abides.

laps and swirls his tongue back around your clit as he curls his finger inside you. another orgasm is quickly following, your ears whooshing and legs shaking as you clench around him. you're about to scream out his name when, again, he rips his mouth and fingers away from you.

"what the fuck, yeosang," you whine, rolling your head to look up at him through dazed eyes. "i wanna come."

he only smirks at you, tugging his pants down and loving the way your eyes travel down to his dripping, hard cock.

"but that's not up to you, is it?" he says, crawling up on the bed and placing a kiss on your lips. "now suck my cock and maybe i'll think about it."

and about as desperate to come as you are to please, you push him down and straddle him backwards to take his cock in your mouth. you swirl your tongue around the tip, swallowing him eagerly as your hand jerks him skillfully; after all, you'd gotten a lot of practice these past few months.

because while you guys haven't gone all the way yet, you've spent many nights on his couch in this exact position. his cock in your mouth with your ass in face, tempting him with your wetness to please let you come.

and just like all those times, he can't resist. so he pulls your hips over his face, bucking his cock into your mouth for good measure, before his mouth covers your pussy. you moan against him as he tongues at your clit and slit, the immense pleasure humming in both of you making everything more intense and passionate.

it's why you both moan out at the same time, your loud groan vibrating against his cock as your pussy muffles his. you nearly collapse on top of him, only on your back when yeosang sits up and flips you over.

he cleans you up with the stray t-shirt on the floor, placing a tired kiss on your lips before his arms wrap around you from behind. "you gotta stop using that position against me," he mumbles lowly in your ear.

you can only tiredly giggle, turning in his hold to bury your face in his chest. "you gotta stop trying to punish me."

and if you thought orgasm denial was his form of punishment, you came to realize that night overstimulation was far worse.

you guys get back to yeosang's house around dinner time, plopping down on his couch after the long car ride and deciding to call for chinese food before he brings you home. you're now laid on the couch together, his body under yours as you rest your head on his chest and watch the movie through heavy, tired eyes.

"can you sleepover?" he mumbles in your ear, "i'm gonna miss waking up with you."

you look up him with a pout on your face, pecking his lips sweetly before resting your chin on him. "i know," you whine quietly.

his eyes roam over your face, the soft light hitting you from the tv causing his heart to constrict. he thinks (knows) he loves you and has been wanting to say something but anytime he tries, something stops him. whether it be an external or internal interruption, something always stops him.

"so you will?" he asks, not even recognizing the soft, hopeful tone of his own voice.

"i think my mom will go crazy if i don't come home," you tell him sadly. "but i'll come back over tomorrow."

but apparently that's not good enough for him.

because he tightens his hold on you and crushes you against him, shaking his head adamantly and causing you to giggle against him. "i'll stay fiveee more minutes," you whine, burying your head in his neck and listening to him to inhale sharply when your breath tickles his skin.

he walks you to his car after what becomes fifteen more minutes, your hands intertwined over the console as you both sit in a comfortable silence.

"thank you for this weekend," your soft voice says suddenly. "i had a lot of fun."

he looks over to smile softly at you, lifting your hand to his mouth to place a kiss. "of course, baby. me too."

"i'm happy your face didn't scar," you tell him, reaching over with your other hand to run your finger against his cheek.

"me too," he says sarcastically, "otherwise, you would've broken up with me."

you turn your face away to giggle, missing the way his gaze lovingly runs over you before as he licks at his dry lips.

when you pull up to your house, he opens your door (you never would've believed the first week of school that this man almost always insisted on doing this) before taking out your suitcase. just as you both start making your way up your walkway to the stairs, your phone starts ringing in your pocket. you narrow your eyes in confusion before taking it out, you just texted your parents you were coming home; why would they call you?

yeosang sees your face fall when you look at the caller id, watching as you hesitantly press the answer button.

"seonghwa?"

the boy didn't really know what set him off that night. it could've been multiple things, honestly.

the months of pretending to be okay with everything that happened, pretending it didn't kill him watching you and yeosang smile and laugh and be happy together. pretend that the other week at the new years eve party, he didn't wanna beat the shit out of yeosang and protect you the way he always did.

but then, he supposes, the picture he saw this morning was thing that truly sent him over the edge. because upon seeing you and yeosang's selfie in front of the ski lodge, it felt like a slap in the face.

his mind couldn't help but be smacked with memories from that trip, the good and the bad.

the drive up, seeing you every morning for breakfast, your ice skating date, your first kiss. but then it was shortly followed by the fact that the next day, you and yeosang had kissed.

he remembers feeling nervous and insecure when he found you in his room the night of the blackout, sensing a feeling in the air and seeing something in yeosang's eyes that should've made it obvious to him that the boy was quickly falling for your charms.

but he was too blind to see anything. too blinded by the fact he had a week to spend with you, that his feelings were growing stronger and there was something so magnetic about you that drew him in. something that continued to draw him in and make him feel horrible due to the fact you were with his best friend.

because he's happy for yeosang, he needs someone like you. but it doesn't make his heart hurt any less.

and alcohol. alcohol makes his heart hurt less, at least for a little bit.

so he stumbled into a bar at dusk, fake id in hand that he didn't even need to flash. because once the female bar tender saw him sitting there in obvious distress, he was basically given all the beers and shots he could handle. and he could handle a lot.

enough to get him talking to the two men next to him, older guys in their 60s who immediately could sense the boy was troubled and heartbroken.

"a fight with your girlfriend?" they asked. seonghwa let out a scornful scoff, throwing back a shot and not even hissing at the sting and burn anymore.

"no," he grumbled, "i wish." because even if he had you, at least he'd be able to fight with you. though he knows, given how whipped he seems to be, he probably wouldn't even do that.

the two men listen intently to him talk about you and the situation, tell them about how he first saw you in his backyard and was immediately taken by your nervous rambling and cute, frazzled appearance. how when he saw you at school, he couldn't believe you guys were crossing paths again and he felt this strange sense to protect you. how the ski trip solidified his feelings and how he was so excited to confess to you and ask you on a date.

"so wha-what happened?" they asked, all three of the men slurring and drunk. "did she reject you?"

"worse," seonghwa laughs out bitterly. "she liked my best friend. even kissed him at that same ski trip."

"no shit," one guy says, the shock evident in his voice.

"yeosang?" the other one says, completely invested in this teen drama. "the one who paid for her?!"

seonghwa nods his head and the two men hit one another in shock, slurring about how they knew that guy was gonna cause trouble.

but even if his drunken state, seonghwa defended you and yeosang fiercely. told them you were never officially with him and that you didn't owe him anything. that even though yeosang knew, he was able to confide in you about things he's never told anyone.

the two men, however, were less kind-hearted. telling him that his best friend knew his feelings and shouldn't have confided in you in the first place. that you had to have known he liked you and saw what a great, nice guy he is.

"it doesn't even matter," seonghwa slurred to them. "y/n made her choice."

it's the sadly pathetic sentence he repeated all night, drinking and drinking and drinking until he almost forget who he was even talking about. but then he stumbled outside after bumming a cigarette from his two new friends who insisted he call you and confess now.

"you guys are fu-fuckin' nuts," he says, blowing out the smoke into the cold air. "i can't do that."

"you can tr-tryy!" the one man insists.

"yeah!" the second one encourages. "c'mo-c'mon, maybe she'll hear you out."

and if they hadn't convinced him for nearly 30 minutes and if he didn't have an absurd amount of alcohol in his system, he wouldn't have. but there were a multitude of factors that made him agree, the two men cheering as he scrolled and stumbled around to find your contact name.

and at just the sound of your voice, he felt himself lose every bit of restraint and sanity he had.

"seonghwa?" you repeat, only hearing labored breathing in your ear. you see yeosang's wide-eyed gaze on you, his eyebrow raised curiously.

"h-hi, y/n."

you immediately hear the drunken slur in his voice, biting your lip as you look at your boyfriend.

"hi. are-are you okay?"

you hear shouts of "team seonghwa! team seonghwa!" in the back, almost convinced he'd been drinking with mingi and yunho had the voices not sounded so much older and unfamiliar.

"ye-yeah," he hiccups.

there'a few beats of silence, seonghwa not saying a word as you watching yeosang mouth 'what's going on?'

"actually, no. i'm not okay," he says suddenly.

you swallow the lump in your throat, hearing the pain and agony in his drunken voice.

you had thought seonghwa had come to terms with everything but you suppose that was silly. because you have your love and affection for yeosang and still find yourself thinking about him and your memories from time to time.

"what's wrong?" you ask, watching yeosang intently watch you.

"i like you," seonghwa says lowly, "i still fucking like you and i know i shouldn't." you hear undetectable shouts in the background but you think they sound encouraging and cheerful.

"seonghwa..." you say warningly, feeling yeosang getting more and more curious.

"i know i shouldn't be sa-saying this," he slurs again, "but i am pretttty drunk and my new friends thought i should tell you. they also think yeosang's a...fucking asshole. but i told t-them he's not that bad."

you can tell by the look on your boyfriend's face he heard that, a hint of a smirk on his face because yeosang can give it the boy; even though he just confessed to his girlfriend, he's still trying to be respectful.

"but i- think a part of me hates him," seonghwa admits, "he knew how much i liked you and he still fucked me over. you-you were confused and new. but him...he's my best friend and he still did that."

you look at yeosang questioningly, knowing he's hearing all of this and not sure how to gauge his blank look now.

"where are you seonghwa? are you getting an uber home?"

"nahhhh," the boy says, "i just ca-came out for a smoke. we might do another round of shots."

"i don't think that's a good idea," you tell him gently. "i think you should go home."

"n-no," the boy hiccups, "i'm just alone there. like how yeo-yeosang used to be alone but now has you. that might be another reason why a part of me fucking ha-hates him."

and with that, the call ends and you feel your eyes water. because you've never heard seonghwa talk like that before, even when he was mad the night he found out and the other times you've seen him drunk. he had never sounded so...defeated and sad.

"yeosang, i think i should pick him-"

"no."

you let out a sigh, walking up to your boyfriend and holding both his hands in yours.

"it's dangerous, yeosang," you say with a frown. "he could get hurt or into a fight."

"all the more reason you're not going," yeosang says, lifting his hands to your face before tightening his hold on your suitcase and attempting to lead you toward your house. "i'll walk you in and go get him."

but you stand your ground, planting your feet to the floor and rip your hands out of his grasp.

he lets out an annoyed, shaky breath, snapping his head back to look at you. and he can see in your eyes that no matter what he says, you're gonna go. because maybe a part of you still feels responsible or guilty for the way things played out and effected him.

but that's not your problem anymore, he thinks, why should you care when he's your boyfriend?

"you're gonna go no matter what i say, aren't you?"

you swallow the nervous lump in your throat, his short tone holding so much anger and frustration it scares you a little. it's such a contrast to the nice weekend you had together, the weekend you try to remind him of before adding you just want to make sure he's safe.

"why?" yeosang snaps, his voice raising ever so slightly. "then i wanna make sure he's safe too. i'll come too."

"you heard him on the phone, babe, i think... that would make everything worse."

you watch yeosang's jaw clench angrily, his hand twisting around your suitcase handle. it feels like everything between you, for him, is slowly crumbling. because one drunken call from seonghwa has you ready to drop everything and run to him.

when he was drunk, you wanted nothing to do with him and begged him to stop.

"do you like him still too?" he snaps, knowing nothing he's saying right now is accurate or his true feelings. "are you just sticking with me until you know for sure? then you'll go with mr. perfect?"

your face falls immediately, tears pricking your eyes again as you watch him stare at you with coldness in his eyes. "are you fucking kidding me?"

"no, y/n, i'm not," he snaps, throwing your suitcase down as he backs away from you. "it seems awfully fucking suspicious you'd drop everything for him."

"he's shitfaced out in public and upset, yeosang," you snap, taking a step closer to him. "it could be anyone and i'd be concerned you asshole."

he lets out a laugh, rolling his eyes as he licks at his lips. "right, concerned. concerned about the guy you kissed right before me who always saved you. now you have to save him."

you narrow your eyes at him, a laugh or utter disbelief leaving your mouth as you shake your head at him. you can't believe this is happening after your weekend together, you had felt so sickeningly happy with him just fifteen minutes ago.

"fuck you, yeosang," you snap, picking your suitcase up from the ground and backing away from him. "in case you forgot, he was saving me from you. because you were always the one being an asshole to me and making me cry."

his jaw clenches at the reminder, his hands balling into fists as anger and embarrassment and shame fill him. he can't even call out your name as he watches you walk into the house, thinking that maybe you're gonna listen to him.

but he knows you. so he isn't surprised when you spin back around and open your mouth. "i'm going in the house to get my car key and then i'm gonna go make sure our friend is safe. the next time you wanna throw my confusion in my face, make sure it's about something correct."

he waits until you're in the house to let out a string of curses, his hands pulling at his hair as he resists the urge to pull it out or scream. and so he doesn't have to see you pull away and drive to seonghwa, he gets in his car and takes off down the street.

you realize when you get in your own car that you have no idea what bar he's at, cursing to yourself before you decide calling mingi might be your best way. he answers on the third ring and you hear him and yunho say hello in sync, excitedly asking you about your skiing trip and if it was weird being back there.

"seonghwa just called me from the bar drunk and me and yeosang got into a fight over it because he was being a major fucking asshole, no surprise there, but now i don't know where seonghwa is and there are probably so many bars but mingi do you know where people usually-"

"okay hold on baby girl, you gotta breathe for us," you hear yunho's voice say calmingly. "stop talking and just breathe for a minute. in and out, five times, okay?"

you listen to the boy's calming voice, ignoring the sting of tears threatening to fall from behind your eyes. it's not the time to think about this, about how much yeosang hurt you and about how much you wanna drive to his house and finish this fight with him.

but if something happened to seonghwa, you would never forgive yourself. you would feel 100% to blame and you're positive everyone else would too. and that's why you have to fucking go, contrary to your idiotic boyfriend's beliefs.

after you've calmed down and rejected the boy's incessant assurances that they would come with you, mingi gives you the address to a bar known to serve underage people all the time. you thank him and tell them you promise you'll update them tomorrow, hanging up before they can respond and backing your mom's car out of the driveway.

you haven't driven since your road test and it shows but luckily the bar is only ten minutes from your house. and you thank the gods above for song mingi because there seonghwa is, two old men sitting right beside him as the talk in a circle. you quickly get out of your running car, pulling your sweater around yourself as you make your way over to them.

"seonghwa?" you ask lowly, the two men snapping their heads up to you and their eyes widening.

"y/n!" they say in unison.

you would've laughed at this oddity under any other circumstances, two old men knowing you by name because seonghwa probably dished all of your dirty laundry to them.

"y/n," the boy himself says, looking up at you with light in his eyes, like he's trying to figure out if you're real. you give him a small smile, waving at him before craning your neck towards your car.

"hi," you say him gently, looking over his face and feeling your heart break at the sight of him. this isn't anything like that seonghwa you've known and it's all your fault. "you want me to give you a ride?"

"where's yeosang?" seonghwa asks, trying to get a look at the car. the men behind him yell "traitor!" causing you to jump and seonghwa, even in his drunken state, stumbles toward you and put his hand on your shoulder.

"he's home," you tell him, not even sure if that's the truth. "but he knows i'm here picking you up. so how bout i bring you home?"

seonghwa can only hum, looking at your pleading expression and letting out a sigh. because under any circumstance, in any state of mind, it appears he's still weak enough to never deny you. you watch him turn around and say goodbye to his friends, the two men patting his shoulder like their his grandfathers telling him what a nice guy he is and that any girl would be lucky to have him.

you feel your heart tug and pang with hurt, smiling at them softly before guiding seonghwa toward the passenger side door. you help him in and close the door as you watch him fumble with the seatbelt, letting out a shaky sigh before you hear your name being called.

you look up to see one of the men coming toward you, even in his drunken state not posing to be a threat.

"it was ni-nice that you came," the man hiccups. "he talked about you all night."

and you don't know if the comment was meant to make you feel good or hurt you but you simply nod, thanking them for taking care of him before walking around to get in the car. you pull out into the street and attempt to find your way to his house, feeling his glossy gaze on you.

"i didn't k-know you can drive."

a part of you wants to laugh at that because even with everything that happened between you two, you still don't know a lot about each other it seems.

"yeah, i have my license, just not my own car," you explain to him. "so i borrow my mom's sometimes."

he nods his head in understanding, his head lolling to the side as he looks out the window. you can only swallow the lump in your throat, your eyes widening when you hear him open it and hum at the cold air.

"you okay?" you ask him. because the last thing you want is for him to vomit in your mom's car.

"fine," he mumbles before a deep chuckle leaves his mouth. "but maybe hurry up so i don-don't puke all over your mom's car. make a left at the stop sign."

and you're pleased to see that even though he's drank to the point of puking, he was still able to give you directions. because once you see that, you recognize the streets of his neighborhood before quickly pulling into his driveway. you notice that only his two cars are there meaning that the house is probably empty.

"shockerrr, empty house," he slurs, his head lolling down and to the side as he looks at you. "you're pretty, y/n. you know that?"

your lips press into one another, biting your lip nervously as you shake your head at him.

"stop, seonghwa."

he lets out a groan, pushing his head back into the chair. "i-i know i shouldn't say that. because you're yeosang's girl and you al-also don't like drunk people or alcohol. but-but i liked you first, you know." and even in his drunken state, it sounds juvenile to his own ears

"that sounds so-stupid," he says through a hiccup. "but i do. i like you- so fucking much and i- i wish i didn't."

you bite the inside of your cheek to distract yourself from the burning of tears behind your eyes. because the way he seems so broken and upset is your fault. you can maybe even blame it a little on yeosang but it's mostly you. because you wouldn't have gotten in the middle of them in the first place if you never showed up at this backyard and agreed to sit with him 4th period.

"do you need help getting inside?"

seonghwa looks at you before shaking his head.

"n-no," he hiccups, his hand searching around for the handle. "i'm so fucking si-sick of people leaving out that door." and with that, the car door squeaks open and he shakily rises to get out; but not before turning his neck back to look at you.

"thank you fo-for getting me, y/n," he tells you, the drunken smile on his flushed face still managing to be incredibly handsome. "i hope yeosang isn't mad at you." he closes the door before you can answer, watching him stumble up the walkway lined with perfectly trimmed hedges and flowers.

the perfectly trimmed hedges and flowers he promptly leans over and vomits into, a sigh leaving your mouth as you grab your phone and turn off the car. you run over to him, grabbing him by the shirt before he can stumble forward and smack his head into the side of his house.

"whoaaa, you caught me," he chuckled out, the sound so light and airy it almost makes you smile.

"i did," you say gently. "let's get you inside now."

"you don-don't have to," he says. because he can't really say that he doesn't want to you. that he really can't deal with another person, but especially you, leaving him alone in this ginormous, empty house.

"i do," you tell him softly, moving your hand to guide him by his waist. "i'll stay until you fall asleep, okay? so you don't have to see me leave."

he doesn't say anything as you guide him into his house and up the stairs to his room. you turn on his light and tell him to change while you go downstairs to get him food and a glass of water. you fumble around in his kitchen for a few minutes, toasting two pieces of bread and filling him up a tall glass of water before grabbing two advils for the morning.

but when you go back into his room, you see he's passed out over the covers still in his clothes from the day. you let out a sigh, putting the plate and cup on the bedside table before going over to him. you kneel down, your hand hesitantly reaching out to run through his hair.

he looks so much younger in his sleep, relaxed and peaceful despite the way he was stumbling around like a drunk. the tears pricking your eyes all night finally come to the surface, falling back onto your butt as you cover your face with your hands.

every time you think your crushing guilt is gone, it always finds a way to surface back. it's like you can't get away from the confusion and decisions you've had to deal with thus far, your stomach still in a knot at your fight with yeosang and how you've gotten zero messages from him. how seonghwa has gotten to the point where he drank his sorrows away at the bar and found solace in two strangers.

how ever since you came to this town, you've done nothing but fuck with people's emotions and turn two best friends against each other.

"y/n," you hear seonghwa's deep, slurred voice. "don't cry."

your head snaps up to see him turned on his side watching you, his arm stretched out as he holds his hand out awaitingly. you only look down at it, your tears nearly blurring your vision, as you shake your head. you can't hold his hand, you refuse. it's not right to you or him or yeosang. because tonight, that would probably mean a whole lot more to all three of you.

"i'm sorry, seonghwa," you whisper to him.

"me too," he says, his eyes trailing over your face and you see the affection in them even through his drunken glossy gaze. "i'm sorry i still want you."

you feel a tear escape your cheek as you shake your head, knowing full well you don't deserve to be hearing this. that you shouldn't be listening to him tell you this in the vulnerable, altered state he's in.

he wipes at the tear on your cheek gently, the delicate swipe of his finger across your skin so foreign but so familiar it cracks your heart just a little bit more. he can only look at your face silently, like he's trying to remember this moment even though he knows he probably won't tomorrow.

"i'm glad you came b-but i'm happy i won't remember any of this tomorrow," seonghwa tells you, "because i'm so pathetic, it just might give me hope."

"you're not pathetic," you tell him brokenly, shaking your head as you wipe at the tears rolling down your cheeks.

"then what would you call it, y/n?" he asks, his eyes getting heavier and heavier as his exhaustion sets in. "pining over someone who doesn't want you? feeling like you love someone you barely knew?"

you can only swallow the lump in your throat watching his eyes close, waiting until his breaths turn even and tiny snores are leaving his mouth to cry into your hands for a few moments. because you think what's worse than doing this to him is the fact that he thinks he's pathetic for it.

because if things were different, you'd be right there with him. pining over him and loving someone you barely knew.

you watch him sleep for a few more minutes, placing the water and two pills next to his bed before slowly running your fingers through his hair as you mumble one last apology. you leave his room afterward with the plate of toast in your hand, your phone in your ear as you softly speak to san over the phone.

"i'm sorry for bothering you but can you stay with seonghwa tonight?"

the boy is over in less than ten minutes, walking through the door with an expression that nearly makes you cry on the spot. you tell him a gist of what happened, how you and yeosang fought and how it's all your fault that seonghwa spiraled into a binge drinking episode.

"stop, it's not," san assures you, his hand running through your hair calmingly. "we're all rich kids. you know we got a ton of fuckin' problems." a wet, broken laugh leaves your mouth as you shake your head, wiping at your wet face with your wrist.

"i'm serious though," san says lowly, "don't feel bad. it was a tough situation for all of you but it isn't anyone's fault."

and even though you don't believe that, you nod your head and thank him for coming. you couldn't have seonghwa waking up alone in the middle of the night, alone and confused with the worst hangover of his life.

san walks you to your car and gives you one last hug, assuring you everything will be okay with yeosang and that he'll make sure seonghwa is fine tomorrow.

but even with san's assurances, you still break down on your car ride home. because seonghwa feels bad because of you, yeosang still hasn't texted you and the lump in your throat is so big you feel like you're about to suffocate.

and just when you think you've cried all the tears you could, the sight of mingi and yunho waiting on your front steps really does you in. they immediately grab you in a hug when you get out of your car, crushed between the two boys who wipe at your tears and tell you everything will be okay.

(part 26)

#seonghwa #yeosang #seonghwa angst #yeosang angst #ateez #ateez angst #yeosang fluff #seonghwa fluff #ateez fluff #seonghwa series

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let-it-raines · 4 years ago

Text

your wonder under summer skies (14/18)

Summer in Storybrooke, Maine means one thing for its residents: tourist season. This year, for Emma Swan and Killian Jones, it means relationships ending and friendships changing all the while they attempt to figure out just what their relationship is. It’s somewhere straddling the line between friends and lovers, and there’s no guarantee of a soft landing if they fall into new territory.

Rating: Mature

ao3: beginning | current

tumblr: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 |

-/-

This place is decidedly more cabin in the woods than Killian was expecting. Well, if the cabin in the woods was a bloody large cabin made for groups of people in Maine looking for a weekend away from their regular lives. When he looked at the link Anna sent him when they were planning this trip, he didn’t look past the specifics of price and how many bedrooms there were.

So when he pulled up and saw the two-story cabin with its wraparound porch and large, floor-to-ceiling windows nestled near a lake, he was a little taken aback. Mostly, though, he doesn’t understand how the owners of this place decided to make every wall wood paneling and for each damn piece of furniture to be made out of a log or pine or something that looks like it’ll put a splinter in his ass when he sits down.

Hell, he’s pretty sure that he’s going to turn the corner and there’s going to be animal heads hanging from the walls.

At least there’s sunshine and clear water and all of the food and alcohol that a man could ask for.

Or, well, that could be asked for by a joint bachelor and bachelorette party that Elsa and Liam wanted, the both of them insisting that they needed a weekend away and that it should be nothing like the beach…so naturally they’re spending it on a lake.

Anna seemed to think it was all a brilliant idea, and since she is so keen on planning things, he figured he’d let her do it instead of getting into arguments over it. Or, well, he might have been distracted when she called to talk about the trip because Emma was on her knees in front of him, and he wasn’t paying attention to anything other than the feel of her.

“Why do I feel like every time I turn a corner, a deer’s antlers or something are going to poke me in the eye?”

Killian chuckles and turns to Emma next to him. She’s got a large duffle bag hanging over her shoulder, and he doesn’t know what she packed, but it must be all of the contents of her closet.

“Because you probably will.”

“Okay,” Anna shouts as everyone keeps walking through the front door, chatting and dragging in suitcases and looking around, “I have had all of the bedrooms labeled. Elsa and Liam get the master, obviously. Mary Margaret and David have bedroom one on the first floor, and Kris and I will take bedroom two, which shares that bathroom. Will and Belle, bedroom three, which is at the end of the hall just down that way. Ariel and Eric, you have bedroom four, which is right at the top of the stairs and will share a bathroom with Ruby and Mulan’s room, which is bedroom five. The final room is, like, basically the attic. Emma and Killian, you guys get that one. It may or may not be the kids’ room, so don’t be surprised if there are bunk beds up there.”

“You’ve got to be shitting me,” Killian mutters. “Bunk beds? We’re twenty-eight. We don’t get our own regular beds?”

“Do any of the couples here want to give up their private rooms with big beds to go sleep in the attic in bunk beds so that Killian can have a queen mattress?” “For fuck’s sake,” Killian laughs, rolling his eyes at Anna, “the beds are fine. I simply wasn’t aware Emma and I were going to be punished for not having significant others.”

“Yeah,” Emma joins in, “we should get compensated in, like, first choice of food tonight.” “I think Elsa and I get that,” Liam says. “You two will be fine. I’m sure the beds will be comfortable, but Emma, lass, as someone who lives with Killian, you might want earplugs. He snores.”

“Liar.”

Liam shrugs, bright smile on his face. “Have some mercy on the poor girl, Killian. Try not to be too loud.”

Killian opens his mouth to keep protesting, but then he snaps it shut. There’s no point. He doesn’t snore, and Emma knows that. Why should he care if everyone else thinks he snores? He’s sure that half of the people in this room do anyways.

This is Liam’s weekend.

If he reminds himself that enough, maybe he won’t try to pick at everything Liam says and does, and they can all have a good time like they’re supposed to.

Even if he does have to sleep in a damn bunk bed.

Emma elbows his side. “I have ear plugs, but that was mostly because I was scared I’d have to sleep next to David and Mary Margaret.”

“Please don’t put that image in my head.”

“We’re in a cabin full of couples, KJ. How is the image not in your head?”

Killian groans and tilts his head back, and Emma laughs, nudging him again before adjusting her bag on her shoulder. “Come on. Let’s go put our stuff up. My legs are stiff from the drive, and I’m ready to go hiking.”

“Oh, that reminds me,” Anna squeals, “I have sunscreen and bug spray for everyone who forgot it. I’ll leave it in the kitchen. Let’s all meet up in half an hour, okay?”

“Anna is…very organized,” Emma sighs as everyone begins walking in different directions looking for their bedrooms. “I feel like she’s a very intense version of Mary Margaret.” “That’s exactly who she is,” Elsa laughs, walking next to Emma up the stairs, which leads them to a hallway with more wood paneling and more large, paneled windows. There are no animal heads yet, though, so Killian would count that as a win. “I think she wants everything to be so perfect for me that she’s taking it overboard. Plus, she’s used to working with all of these extravagant people, so this is kind of out of her wheelhouse. You’re just lucky my cousins couldn’t come this weekend, because that would make it even worse.”

“She’s doing a great job. With this and the wedding. I mean, the wood paneling here is a little much, but this is beautiful.” “Hey, I could have helped plan this,” Killian protests.

Liam, Elsa, and Emma all laugh at him.

“What?”

“If I was a betting man, I’d say the only thing you planned was the food and the alcohol.”

“And to that,” Killian laughs, “I’d say you were right. If I had gotten my say, I would have found a place with one more bedroom so that Emma and I weren’t sleeping in bunk beds while everyone else got normal rooms.”

“I mean, technically,” Elsa says, “I think there’s another bed in David and Mary Margaret’s room, but I think you two might be safer upstairs.”

They get to the end of the hallway where the master bedroom is, and Elsa and Liam tell them that they’ll see them in a few minutes before walking inside while he and Emma turn to find the spiral staircase that leads up to the attic. It’s beautiful, but it’s not exactly convenient when carrying luggage, but he and Emma manage to get their stuff upstairs without any kind of disaster.

“Those stairs would be horrible if you’re drunk. I feel dizzy just getting up here.”

“Aye,” he sighs, dropping his bag and looking around the room.

It’s small, just a set of chairs, a dresser with a television, and then, indeed, a set of bunk beds covered in red plaid bedding. In the center of the room is a round window, and when Killian looks out it, he has a direct view of the lake and all of the surrounding hills and trees.

He imagines none of the other rooms have a view like that.

“Wow,” Emma whistles, “a view like that will almost make you think the lake is better than the beach.”

“Never,” he laughs, looking at her to his side. “I like my salt water and my sand too much to ever give it up, but it is stunning.”

“I can’t wait to get to explore it. It’s so damn nice not to be working this weekend. I haven’t had an actual, multiple-day break in months, and I’m taking full advantage of it.”

Killian nods as he keeps looking out the window. He sees two people walk out onto the deck, and he believes it’s Ruby and Mulan. It’s hard to tell from here, but then one of them walks a little further out and he recognizes Ruby’s red shirt. They must be ready to go already. He needs to change into a different pair of shoes.

Turning around, Killian moves to grab his bag only to see the last seconds of Emma pulling down a sports bra. She’s in nothing but a pair of black shorts and a white sports bra, and dammit if she doesn’t drive him mad like this.

He’s grown to know the curves of her body more intimately than he ever thought he would, and that’s how he knows that she’s been running more this summer and that places where she was once soft are the slightest bit more firm and how he knows the way her skin has changed from a creamy white to a shade or two darker, all of her freckles showing up more and more.

It’s how he knows that if that’s all she’s wearing today, he’s going to struggle holding it together in front of all of their friends.

He doesn’t know what to do when it comes to Emma any longer.

He wants her all the damn time, but his traitorous mind keeps telling him that he wants her in a way that he hasn’t had her: where there are no rules or implications or anything even closely relating to the friends with benefits situation they’ve got going on.

Where Killian can get it out of his mind that Emma kisses him in greeting now, how she intertwines their fingers, how she finds a way to touch him even when they’re not alone. It’s subconscious, he thinks. She’s not doing it on purpose, not seeking him out like she would a boyfriend, but it’s still happening.

(It matters not he is also guilty of doing the same things.)

It’s messing with his mind, with his heart, with everything.

And all he knows is that he feels like he’s betraying her because what Killian feels for Emma is far more than friendship, and he has no idea how to deal with that without mucking it up.

Especially because he can’t seem to stop being with her.

Their first rule was to keep the friendship at the center of everything, to make sure that neither of them messed it up, and the more time that passes, the more time that he thinks he’s barreling them toward disaster.

But he can’t stop.

“You gonna just keep staring at me like that?” Emma teases as she ties a jacket around her hips.

“I don’t believe I was staring.”

She chuckles and saunters toward him until she’s standing toe to toe with him. Killian glances away from her face, but that only leads his gaze toward the top of her breasts and the freckle that seems to be calling him.

Not now, not now, not now.

“Oh, you definitely were.” Emma presses up on her toes and runs her lips across his jaw. God, this is another one of the things about her that drives him mad, and he has to focus all of his attention on his breathing to keep himself from becoming too aroused. “Later,” she whispers. “I really do want to go on this hike, and I’m not going to let you distract me, Jones.” “I thought you were the one distracting me.”

“Eh, it goes both ways.”

And then she’s pulling away with this bright, kind smile on her face, and he has no idea how she can go from seductive to friendly all within the span of five minutes.

“See you downstairs. I need to get Ruby to braid my hair, so I’m going to go ahead and go.”

“She’s out on the deck with Mulan.”

Emma nods, grabs her phone, and then walks out the door.

This weekend is going to be bloody torturous.

-/-

If Killian had to guess, he would say that David and Liam have gotten them lost somewhere in the middle of the woods despite the fact that they’re all following a trail.

Or, well, supposed to be following a trail.

At one point, Anna and Elsa got distracted by this flower bush, and once they veered off the path to look at it, wondering if they could get Elsa’s florist to change her bouquet arrangement, they all started veering on and off the path, especially since there are twelve of them out here on a trail that really only allows two people to walk side by side.

If someone had brought alcohol on the hike, he imagines at least half the group would be lying dead in a ditch by now.

Honestly, Will usually has a flask on him, but as far as Killian knows, he hasn’t pulled it out yet.

Damn.

Killian ignores David and Liam arguing and keeps looking ahead. Emma and Mary Margaret are directly in front of him, now leading the group, and he tries to focus on the ground instead of the way Emma’s ass is nearly on display from the way her shorts are riding up. She hasn’t paid him much attention since they started the hike, and he’s never been so thankful to be left alone, if only for a little while.

He hasn’t been able to run all week, and this is exactly what he needed, even if the quietness of nature is cancelled out by everyone talking.

“I’m not kidding,” Ruby chuckles. “It’s awful. I mean, I get it, these are teenagers who are getting away from their parents for a little while, but do they have to make out in booths that I have to clean? There are so many places they could go, places where I don’t have to look at them while I’m trying to do my job.”

“We’ve made out in those booths.”

“That’s different, and you know it.” “Why? Because you’re the one who is getting a little action?”

“Exactly.”

“Granny’s is a fucking popular make out spot,” Will adds in. “There’s the hallway that connects to the B and B, which has seen more action than Killian has all summer.”

“Oi,” Killian scoffs, turning around to stare Will down, “mind your own bloody business.”

“Sorry, mate. I couldn’t resist.”

“You know who I keep seeing there?” Will continues. “Neal Cassidy. I know he’s dating Tamara, but damn, you’d think they could go to one of their places every once in awhile.”

Killian cringes, nearly faltering in his step, and he finally looks up to Emma, who is simply continuing to walk.

Good. That’s good.

She told him that she was over Neal, that she’s letting it go, but you don’t love someone for that long and have them break your heart and not be affected when someone is talking about them.

“Will, shut up,” Belle hisses.

“Why do I need to – oh fuck,” he mutters. “I’m sorry, Emma. Please ignore me and that bloody wanker.”

“It’s fine,” Emma shouts back, not turning around. “Neal has nothing to do with me anymore. He can do what he wants as long as I don’t have to look at him while I’m eating my onion rings.”

“I’d never make you do that,” Ruby tells her. “I’ll kick him out.”

“Can you even do that?”

“Eh, I can try.”

“Look,” David interrupts, and they all stop to stare where he’s pointing. “There’s that damn split tree. That’s where we were supposed to be going.”

“How do you even know that?” Liam grumbles.

“Because I noticed it on the way up. We’ve been here before, so it we turn that way, it should take us back to the house.”

“Can’t we use our phones to check where we are?” Killian asks only to have both Liam and David glare at him. “Okay, okay,” he backtracks, holding his hands up, “I guess we’re not using technology to make our lives easier.”

By the time they’re back at the house, Killian’s skin has been kissed by the sun, his feet ache, and his stomach is growling with hunger. He could really go for a nap, but Kris offers to cook burgers for everyone down by the lake, so everyone grabs their swimsuits and some drinks and heads down to where the grill is.

Killian settles into one of the lounge chairs that’s set up down there, a bottle of water in hand, and leans back, wondering if napping outside would be possible, but then Liam starts blaring music over some speakers and he knows the nap is never going to happen.

“Hey,” Emma says as she plops down in the chair next to him, “why do you look like you’re about to fall asleep?”

“Because I desperately want to.”

“How are you tired?”

“Because, unlike someone, I drove us up here and could not nap in the car.”

Emma shrugs and curls her legs up in the chair before taking a long sip of her water. “You make a good point, KJ. Do you think I’d get my hand slapped away if I went and got the bag of barbecue chips off the table before all the other food was ready?”

“Depends on if the picnic table guardian is looking over it or not.” Emma laughs and leans forward, looking over at the table. “David seems to be occupied staring at the grill being all macho man with Kris. I’ll be right back.”

And then she’s jogging over to the table, slowing down right before she gets there, and then grabbing the big bag of barbecue crisps before springing back over to him and sitting back down in her seat, dropping the crisps between them. David looks over at them, and Killian swears that he sees his eyes narrow, like he knows Emma took the crisps off the table.

“Sneaky, love.”

“I try. I don’t know why he does that at any event. It’s like he gets some weird high off of making sure no one gets too food, but the worst part is definitely the fact that he watches to see if people throw any uneaten food away.”

“It is rather odd, isn’t it?”

“It’s the worst is what it is.”

She leans over between them and opens the bag, grabbing a crisp and taking what he swears is the loudest bite in existence. David is likely about to look over at them and give them hell for it. The man is going to make a great father one day.

If only because he can monitor food better than anyone else in existence.

Killian leans back in his chair and settles down into it, closing his eyes. He stretches out his arm, his hand laying against the arm of the chair, and after a few moments of relative silence, he feels Emma’s fingers tracing over his forearm in soothing patterns that have a shiver running down his spin and settling in his stomach.

It feels so natural for her to do this, for him to let her do this, and he should stop it.

But he can’t, not now.

Soon. He’ll figure it out.

Soon.

“I’ve always liked this tattoo the best.”

“Hmm?”

“Ever tried. Ever failed. No matter. Try again. Fail again. Fail better.” She traces the words inked into his skin as she says them out loud. “I don’t know. I just feel like it’s so fitting to have them mixed in with your scars.”

Killian fights with himself to keep his eyes closed, to keep himself from looking into Emma’s eyes. Not a lot of people get such unfiltered access to his scars, and yet here she is in the open tracing them and talking about them and yet again making him feel like maybe they’re not too bad.

“I mean,” she continues, “I like all of your tattoos. They always make me want to get more than my buttercup, but I really like this one.”

“Aye,” he sighs, deciding that just for today, he can let everything be. This is a good moment, and he’s not going to let his mind ruin it. Instead he’ll let Emma run her fingers over his hand and let her hold onto him for a few moments. “I am fond of that one as well. I am also fond of yours, though it is rather small.”

“What? Do you want me to get a giant one?”

“You should get one that covers your entire back.” “Shut up,” Emma laughs, digging her nails into him. “I am obviously not doing that. I don’t know what I’ll do, or if I ever will. I think I’ll just stick to liking yours.”

“I like that plan. Do you think if I eat a crisp that David will hear it?”

“He hasn’t noticed me yet.” “Ah, but you have better luck than me.” “Guess you’ll have to try your luck to see.”

Killian slowly opens one eye, then the next, before moving his arm away to reach into the bag. He takes one bite, eyeing David who still has his back turned, before eating a few more. He thinks that maybe he’ll get away with it until David turns around.

“Jones, put the damn chips back on the table before I burn your food.”

“Sorry,” Emma says to him, shrugging, but he can tell that she’s not sorry at all.

“I think I’ll survive, love.”

When the food is finished cooking, everyone settles around tables and in chairs, eating and drinking and laughing. And it’s nice, a nicer time than Killian has had in awhile if he’s honest with himself. But then the night falls, crickets finding their places in the surrounding trees and a breeze wafting through the campground, causing a chill to travel down his spine as his skin pebbles with goosebumps.

There is a fire going, though, and plenty of alcohol being passed around to warm him, but really, the alcohol might not be the best idea right now, especially since Mary Margaret and Ruby tend to like to play games when they’re halfway to drunk.

Mary Margaret said something about how they needed to play a shower game. It was tradition, but Elsa and Liam hadn’t wanted that. Then Ruby stood up from the bench she was sitting on and declared that they would play Truth or Dare like the grown adults they are. They love their games, though, and, well, Ruby does know how to turn the game into something that is rather more adult than what he played when he was a lad. This is nothing new. They tend to do this at every party they have, but he never knows if it’s going to be tame or not.

So far Elsa has had to share some intimate details about the first time she slept with Liam, which Killian truly did not need to hear about, Liam has chugged down half a bottle of ketchup, Will has jumped into the lake, Mary Margaret has had to answer what the one thing she’d change about David would be, which resulted in a hushed argument, and Ruby has run to the neighboring house and asked them for condoms.

She came back with an entire box.

So, now it’s Ruby scanning the semi-circle they’re sitting in looking for her next victim, because, really, of all the people here, the last person he’d want to have pick out whatever form of torture this is would be Ruby Lucas.

His one glass of rum has not numbed him enough for this.

“Emma,” Ruby finally says, and Killian swears he hears half the group let out sighs of relief.

“I hate you,” Emma mutters, flipping Ruby off.

“Oh, no you don’t. You love me, and I’m going to be really nice to you by telling you that if you pick ‘truth,’ I’m going to ask you about the guy who gave you that hickey last week.”

Killian’s cheeks immediately heat, and he swallows, pushing the thought down. He hadn’t meant to do that. It had been an accident because they are not teenagers and don’t usually leave marks, and he didn’t even know it happened until Emma had sent him a picture the next day.

Shit.

At least Emma’s a damn good liar since it’s not like anyone is actually forcing them to do this.

It’s the spirit of it all.

“Dare, you asshole.”

There are a few whistles from around the group, and Killian already knows there are going to be a few follow-up questions to Ruby’s words later.

“I dare you to…kiss Jones. Killian, not Liam. And none of that on the cheek shit. You two have so much chemistry, and I need to see it. I feel like everyone here needs to see it.”

“Oh my God,” he hears Emma murmur next to him at the same time that he has that exact thought. The whistles increase, some hollering too, and he swears that everyone here but he, Emma, and David are drunk off their asses. “Ruby, no. Pick something else. Like, something normal that non-tipsy you would pick.” “You chose ‘dare.’”

“Because you were going to ask me something I didn’t want to talk about. I don’t want to kiss Killian.” She turns back to him and winces. “No offense.”

“None taken,” he mumbles, knowing she’s trying to save face.

“Why not? He’s super hot. I mean, I know you think he’s hot. You’ve said it before, and you guys kind of have that ‘will they, won’t they’ thing going on, which I have been saying all summer. We actually have all talked about getting a betting pool as to when you’ll finally get together, especially since you and the dumbass are no longer a thing. So, come on, it won’t be that bad. You’ve got to uphold the integrity of truth or dare.”

Emma’s lips part, and Killian knows she has a retort on her tongue. She always does.

But then she’s turning and leaning over her chair until she’s grabbing the collar of his t-shirt and pulling his mouth to hers.

Fuck.

Her lips press into his, soft and warm as they always are, but it takes him a minute to fully close his eyes and appreciate how she feels against him. Eyes are on them, whistles ringing out around the group, and Killian swears he sees flashes of camera lights as Emma sucks on his bottom lip and his hands thread into her hair, pulling her closer.

And for one, miniscule second, he forgets about the people around him and the warring thoughts he’s been fighting for weeks now, and he lets himself revel in how damn good it feels to kiss Emma Swan.

But then it’s over.

They part, gasping for breath, and Killian’s grip tightens on the back of Emma’s head as her forehead rests warmly against his.

Strangely, all he can focus on is the fact that she smells like sunscreen.

“Well, hot damn,” Ruby sighs, and Killian finally drops his hand from Emma’s hair, “I feel like I need a glass of water now. Anyone else?”

There’s a murmur of voices, but Killian ignores them, focusing on the way Emma is blinking at him with a smirk painted on her lips. “That wasn’t too bad, was it?” “No, that wasn’t bad at all.”

“Emma, it’s your turn,” Ruby reminds her. “Feel free to do your worst to me.”

“Trust me, I plan to.”

In the blink of an eye, things go back to normal. The attention is back on the game, not on him, not on Emma, and no one says anything else about the kiss.

Apparently everyone cares about it a lot less than he thought they would.

But it was all part of a game. It wasn’t real.

None of it has been.

And he has no idea how much longer he’s going to be okay with that. He also has no idea how he could make any of it real, even if Emma wanted that, because he’s got no fucking clue how to do this.

His brain doesn’t seem to be conjuring up any ideas either.

Shit.

Eventually, the game dies down, everyone quieting and forming their own circles and conversations, and while Killian tries to stay for a little while, when the opportunity to sneak out and go to bed presents itself, he takes it.

-/-

tag list: @qualitycoffeethings @mrtinski @klynn-stormz @scarletslippers @jonirobinson64 @snowbellewells @therealstartraveller776 @thejollyroger-writer @sherifemma @galadriel26 @galaxyzxstark @idristardis @karenfrommisthaven @teamhook @spartanguard @searchingwardrobes @jamif @shireness-says @ultimiflos @nikkiemms @resident-of-storybrooke @onepunintendid @bluewildcatfanatic @superchocovian @killianswannn @carpedzem @captainkillianswanjones @mayquita @mariakov81 @jennjenn615 @onceuponaprincessworld @a-faekindagirl @scientificapricot @xellewoods @ultraluckycatnd @stahlop @kmomof4 @tiganasummertree @singersdd @tornadoamy @cluttermind @lfh1226-linda @andiirivera @elizabeethan @captain-emmajones @csalltheway @itsfabianadocarmo

#your wonder under summer skies #cs fic #cs ff #cs fanfic #captain swan fic #captain swan ff #captain swan fanfic #Captain Swan

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namjoontunes · 4 years ago

Text

Lost and Found, Chapter Twelve

BTS Members x Reader

Genre: Fantasy AU, Fluff, Minor Angst

Warning: N/A

Word Count: 2.7k

Author’s Notes: This arc was really only supposed to be one chapter XD I guess it’s kind of gotten away from me... but I hope you enjoy!

AO3

Previous || Next

Prologue || Most Recent

———————————————————————————

"Hyung, do you know why Jimin won't stop pacing around the living room? It's driving me crazy." Jungkook stood in the doorway to Jin's room, giving an annoyed gesture down the hallway where Jimin was still pacing.

Jin sighed, putting his book aside. "Tae and Y/n went out somewhere and didn't tell Jimin where they were going, and Tae didn't charge his phone again so it's been very distressing for him."

"Oh…" Jungkook responded, his brow furrowing. "Are they like, on a date?"

"I don't know, and honestly I'm trying not to think about it," Jin replied.

Suddenly Jimin appeared behind Jungkook. "A picnic basket!!!" He shouted, drawing confused stares from the other two.

"I helped Tae enchant a picnic basket, he must be on a picnic with Y/n!" Jimin explained.

"Oh, good," Jin said. "Now that you know what they're doing, maybe I can get back to my book and you can stop talking to me about what they might be up t-"

"But it's way after noon they should be back by now!" Jimin interrupted, his anxiety clearly not eased by his realization. "They could be lost, or hurt, or in danger, or-"

"Or they could be just enjoying their time together or something," Jin added, with an exasperated look at Jimin. "Like I said, I'm trying really hard to mind my own business, maybe you could do the same."

"Or," Jungkook began, and Jin rolled his eyes. "Maybe they ARE hurt, so we should go into the woods and look for them right now, before they get any closer. To the danger."

"I feel like you guys aren't listening to anything I say."

"I think Jungkook has a point," Jimin persisted, "We should go looking for them before anything else happens to them, Jungkook can get a bird's eye view and I can search from the ground."

"Even if I said not to you guys clearly wouldn't listen, so just make sure your phones are actually charged!" Jin advised, but the two were already halfway down the hallway. He sighed, picking his book back up as he desperately tried to shake the images of Tae and Y/n on a date out of his head.

———————————————————————————

When Tae opened his eyes again, the sun had moved significantly in the sky. Y/n was still asleep in his arms, if her soft snores were any indication. He spent a few minutes just admiring her as she slept before deciding to wake her.

"Hey… Y/n… we should get up," he whispered softly. She mumbled something incoherent and clung tighter to him. "Come on, I promise you can have some desserts when we get back to the house."

She peaked an eye open at him. "Promise?"

He laughed and moved a strand of hair out of her face. "I promise."

After giving themselves a few minutes to fully wake up, the two of them began packing the extra dinnerware back into the now mostly dry, and much lighter, picnic basket. They left all the ruined food behind, with the reassurance from Y/n that some animal would find themselves a nice treat with it.

As they set out back towards the house, Tae held his hand out to Y/n. She smiled, and happily interlocked their fingers. Today had been another wonderful day with someone from her new family, and she couldn't wait to see what the future had in store.

———————————————————————————

"Dragon to fox, I repeat, dragon to fox come in."

"Jungkook, this is a phone call, not a walkie talkie. You don't have to do that."

"...I just thought it might make it more fun…" Even without seeing him, Jimin could hear the pout in Jungkook's voice.

"Fine…" Jimin sighed. "Fox to dragon, do you have eyes on the runaways?"

"Negative, fox," Jungkook replied cheerily.

"That's not good news Jungkook!" Jimin scolded.

"...right. I was just excited you were doing the thing with me."

"You're sure you don't see any sign of them?" Jimin asked again. "Or any sign of a picnic or something?"

"Still a negative, fox. The skies are clear and the ground is greener than a fresh head of lettuce."

Jimin sighed, and looked anxiously around him for any sign that the two of them had come through here. "It's gonna be getting dark soon, I think we should go back and get Yoongi and Namjoon to help us look."

"You go back, I'll keep looking over the trees for them. I still have my phone so I'll be fine," Jungkook reassured. As much as he liked using the radio talk to keep things light, there was an uneasy weight in the pit of his stomach. He wasn't sure if it was anxiety or just jealousy, but either way he knew finding the others would help put him at ease.

"Alright Jungkook, I'll be back as soon as possible."

———————————————————————————

"Um. Tae? Are you sure we're going the right way? I feel like we should've reached the house by now."

Tae slowed to a stop, looking at all the trees around him. "Huh… I guess we should've gotten there by now. I figured you would've corrected me if we were going the wrong way," he admitted sheepishly.

Y/n stopped and stared at him for a long moment, her face completely still. "Did… your village not teach you about the effects of Fae presence on anyone non-fae?" She asked cautiously.

"Fae presence?" He responded nonchalantly. "Our village was exclusively Fae-folk, so I never really learned about our effects on others…"

Y/n slumped against a tree, anxiously running her hand through her hair. "Long term exposure to Fae energy can have a number of undesired effects on any creatures not of Fae descendance." She recited. "Side effects include, but are not limited to, time loss, trouble sleeping, aversion to iron, and loss of directional senses."

"...oh." He stated, as realization set in. "No wonder it took Jimin and I so long to get out of these woods…"

"What about your phone? Do you have a map thing on there?" She asked, trying to stay hopeful.

"You're a genius!" He declared as he pulled out his phone. "Let me just open up the… black... screen… because it's not charged…"

Tae sat down next to her with a sigh. "I'm really sorry today has been such a mess. I thought a spontaneous picnic would be cute, but clearly my lack of planning is coming back to bite us in the ass…"

"It's okay Taetae, I had fun today! And in a week we'll look back at this and laugh!" She reassured, pushing down her own worries as she took his hand in hers. "I'm glad I got to spend this time with you, and I'm sure the others will come looking if we're gone for too long!"

He gave her hand a grateful squeeze. "Thanks Y/n, I'm really glad you're part of our family now. I'm gonna go fly up to try and figure out what direction we should be walking in."

———————————————————————————

The shadows grew long as the day drew to a close, and soon enough the faint glowing from Taehyung's wings was their only source of light.

"Tae… I think we should stop for the night, we're only gonna get more lost if we keep going like this."

He slowed to a stop, scanning over the treeline once more and desperately hoping for any sign that they were going in the right direction. When his search came up empty yet again, he sighed, and let the picnic basket in his hand fall to the ground.

"I guess you're right," he agreed, disappointment clear in his voice. "I can start another fire for us? We still don't have much in the way of food though…"

"I'll go try to find some food!" Y/n volunteered, trying to stay cheerful. "And maybe we'll be as lucky as we were last time!"

She zipped off into the forest as he got to work on the fire. The darkness made scavenging difficult, and she barely managed to gather enough to sate their hunger. The two decided to sleep soon after they finished eating, and settled down on a bed of moss Taehyung had created with his magic, their arms wrapped tightly around each other to keep warm as the air began to chill.

However, even as Taehyung's breathing slowed, sleep did not come to Y/n. The last time she had slept beneath the trees, she had been bloodied, terrified, and certain she was going to die. As the memories forced themselves into her mind, each and every sound made her jump. Eventually she tired of lying in wait, and slipped out of his arms to begin anxiously patrolling around the campfire in the shape of a wolf. Every once in a while she would shift back to add more wood to the fire. She hoped the boys weren't still searching for them throughout the night, but didn't want them to pass her by on the off chance that they were still out.

The hours passed slowly, and she watched the moon inch it's way across the sky. Her anxiety eased as more time passed, and she settled down beside Taehyung once again. She wasn't keen on leaving him unguarded as he slept, but it would be a lot harder to make it back tomorrow if she didn't get at least some sleep. Doing her best to set her worries aside, she let her eyes drift shut.

———————————————————————————

"Wait, what do you mean they're missing?"

Yoongi and Hobi had only been home from running errands for all of five minutes before Jimin's shimmering portal had deposited the boy into the middle of the living room, and he wasted no time in launching into the full explanation of what had occurred while they were gone. Jin and Namjoon were already in the living room when they had gotten home, and currently they stood silently to the side like two children waiting for their punishment. It had only been two weeks since Y/n had joined them, and under their careless watch she and another member of the household had gone missing.

"I mean they're not here and no one knows where they went and they've been gone all day so they're missing!" Jimin practically shouted. He had leaves and twigs stuck in his hair from searching in the woods, and his tail anxiously waved back and forth behind him.

Yoongi looked to Jin for confirmation. "The last time anyone saw them they were doing dishes after breakfast, and Tae's phone is dead so we don't have any way of contacting them." He informed the vampire.

"I told you that hours ago and you didn't believe me that they were missing!" Jimin accused, glaring at the eldest boy.

"I had no reason to!" Jin defended. "You told me they brought a picnic basket, so they must have been on a picnic and gotten lost or something."

"Well clearly something happened! Maybe if you had helped us look we would've found them already!" He argued back.

"ALRIGHT ENOUGH," Namjoon interrupted, placing himself between the two angry boys. "Instead of fighting amongst ourselves we should be out looking for them. Where's Jungkook?"

"He's still out searching," Jimin answered, shooting Jin one last glare. "Since the sun set he's been using his fire in the hopes that they see it in the sky."

"Okay good. Did you try following their scent?"

"Yeah but I lost it at the river…" Jimin admitted, his tail drooping.

"Alright take me to where you lost it and we'll keep looking from there. Jin, start looking in the other direction just in case they flew or used any form of travel magic. Yoongi and Hobi, meet up with Jungkook and help him with his aerial search. Everyone make sure your phones are on and charged, and let everyone know if you find anything. Ready?" The five boys nodded, determination to find their friends replacing their anxiousness. "Let's go then, between the six of us they won't be missing for much longer."

———————————————————————————

Back in the depths of the forest, Y/n was startled awake by the sound of snapping branches. She wasn't sure how much time had passed, but the fire had been reduced to embers and shadows loomed on every side. Immediately she shifted back into a wolf, glaring into the darkness as she tried to figure out exactly who or what was nearby.

She sat silently for a few moments, listening closely to the sounds of the creature's movement through the trees. It couldn't have been much bigger than she was, judging by the sound of it's footsteps, but it seemed to be heading directly towards them. Y/n moved to stand protectively over Taehyung, a low growl building in her throat. She could feel herself instinctively changing her wolf shape till she was roughly the size of a bear, if not bigger. The unknown creature continued it's approach, either unbothered or unaware of her abilities, and she lifted her nose to try to catch a trace of it's scent.

Suddenly, Y/n's blood ran cold. The night air carried with it a hauntingly familiar scent, for nearly two months it had haunted her nightmares as she was hunted down time and time again. Surely this couldn't be the exact wolf that had nearly ended her life, here to finally finish the job when she had so much to lose?

Yet it was unmistakably the same. Try as she might she had not been able to shake that scent from her memories. Part of her was desperate to run off, take flight before she could be hurt again and never look back. But she knew Taehyung's helpless sleeping body lay just beneath her. She felt a surge of protectiveness run through her. These were the people who had taken her in and given her a home when no one else would. She would not let anything harm them.

As the wolf finally appeared in her line of sight, Y/n roared loud enough to shake the earth. She was even bigger now, looming over the clearing as the wolf desperately skidded to a halt. Her body had become a hybrid of different predators, with claws like a lion and bared teeth sharper than any wolf's. She growled again as the wolf cowered before her, it's much smaller frame pressed low to the ground.

She had never gotten a good look at it when it first attacked her, but now she could see clearly it's fur darker than the pits of hell and eyes almost unnaturally yellow. It inched forward with a small yip, clearly eyeing up Taehyung, and Y/n lunged for it's throat. Her jaws snapped shut on the air where the wolf had been just a heartbeat before.

Seeing it’s life flash before it’s eyes, the wolf stumbled backwards and immediately darted off into the darkness, it's tail tucked between it’s legs. Y/n stood there for what felt like years, breathing hard as her body fought to maintain the excessive shape she was in.

"Y/n!" She whipped around to see Taehyung standing behind her, staring at her with a mixture of concern and astonishment. "He's gone now Y/n, it's okay."

Like a rubber band unwinding, she suddenly shifted back to her human form. Her whole body was shaking, and she could feel tears running down her cheeks. "I- I was… I was so s-scared Taehyung I didn't- I wasn't..."

A wave of dizziness crashed over her. Her body had been pushed way past the limits of what she was capable of, and she quickly realized she was paying the price for it. She tried to focus on the shape of Taehyung in front of her, but she couldn't tell if he was walking towards her or away from her, his voice swimming in and of her ears as she desperately tried to cling to consciousness. She took a tentative step forwards, and felt her legs finally give out beneath her. The last thing she saw was an orange glow rushing up to meet her face.

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eleanor-devil · 4 years ago

Text

Boruto: Sacrifices [Remade] | Chap.13 - What Matters Most

Written by: Eleanor-Devil & @mirage-05

The chill of the earliest hours of the day were gaining upon them as the large group made its way through the woods, as discreetly as possible. But no chill could've rivaled the one that was growing in Sasame's heart at that moment. She couldn't help the way in which her thoughts kept drifting to her husband. It had been twenty years since she had known Hideyoshi, they had met briefly before she left for her mission to find her cousin. He had always been honest, caring... Especially for those younger than him. And he had always been a man of honor... That was the trademark of the Oberatsu after all, their penchant for honor... Why would he attack a child? Was it possible... that she didn't get to know him at all...? "Mama?" The voice of her eldest, Kazuhiro, was enough to snap her out of it. The young boy was looking at her through worried dark brown irises. Sasame's sad eyes took a softer look. "Kazuhiro..." (1) "Are we... going to see my dad again...?" That was the question she had feared. The orange haired kunoichi closed her eyes for a moment as memories flooded her mind...

[Flashback] "I am begging you, you mustn't go!" The woman's eyes showed nothing but desperation as she watched her husband packing his weapons. The arrows, his small bow... And the truth that she could do nothing to stop him made her heart ache, so much so that it was almost unbearable... "This is a great honor. You should understand..." "What is a great honor?" Sasame almost cried out. "To build a village from the ashes of another? Where is the honor in that?" "Our village was destroyed, shunned, cursed... All because of that one cursed ninja who was pardoned for his crimes while we stayed aloof, fending for ourselves - barely..." "And blaming everyone else but ourselves for it!" the woman yelled. "We couldn't form a unity because each one of the clans are too egoistic to put personal matters aside and name a leader for the prosperity of Otogakure! Why should we go wage war on an innocent nation because of this?! Why can't we make allies out of them instead of enemies?!" "No, we suffer because of Orochimaru!" Hideyoshi spat, spinning around to look at her. "And if disrupting his peace meant attacking his former village, so be it! What did that so-called peace treaty bring upon us?! Otogakure was cast aside as if a useless doll - no one gave us a second thought!" "No one has to. We could solve all of our problems ourselves if we had enough backbone and a clever and selfless enough leader!" "That's enough." The man's voice was cold and hard. "You ordered Fuma out of this mission but the others all agreed to it." "And your leader hand-picked you and brainwashed you enough to repeat his own words to me. You can fool anyone but me - your heart is not entirely in this mission, either." Hideyoshi only avoided her gaze for a second, but when he looked back at her, his gaze was determined. "I know where my loyalties lie. Oto will be reformed, brought to glory. If it was to be on the blood of your friend, the Hokage..." His words were like a knife through her heart. "...so be it." Regaining her composure, Sasame straightened her back, her gaze and voice just as cold. "If you get out now... You can't come back as Fuma Sasame's husband." Hideyoshi stopped dead in his tracks as he reached to get out of the tent, and turned to look at her with sad, almost heart-broken eyes... And for a moment, Sasame couldn't even breathe as guilt and sadness washed upon her... [End of Flashback] Sasame opened her eyes with a tear, and saw Kazuhiro was still gazing at her carefully. "Mama..." "Kazuhiro, you have an important mission from now on." she mused softly, looking at the boy with a broken smile. "You are gonna have to take care of your brother and sister..." "He is not coming back..." the young boy stated, not as a question, just as a means of voicing the simple truth. "I'm afraid not, my dear child..." Sasame tried to control the trembling in her voice. "So you will be the one to fill his void... The best as you can..." As he nodded grimly, the woman was wondering how she was ever going to fill the void in her heart... ... The young woman knelt before the other two, who were finishing their preparations. "God dammit! They are here! There are twelve Konoha ninjas out there!" Hearing that, Suzume's heart skipped a beat, her eyes widening. That was what she had feared - although now to think of it, most likely what the Yoshida and the other clans planned when they left her with this punishment. She was a disgrace... If she could manage to go back unscathed, she would be allowed to have a clean slate. If not... It didn't really matter if she died here. She had just counted on the possibility that the Konoha ninjas wouldn't reach Oto this quickly. "Okay, we have to come up with a plan. This means four ninjas for each..." "Wait. Who told you we would be fighting?" The woman's head turned to her comrade. "What?" "They are here for you, not us." the second woman said matter-of-factly. "We are not gonna stand here and risk our skins." "Together we have a better chance against them!" Suzume spat, a fire burning in her eyes. "What makes you think they won't come after you if I don't make it out?!" "Then you better make sure to stop them. After all... that's the least you can do after how you failed so miserably." And with that, the two women sprinted towards the trees, leaving a horrified Suzume behind... ... The forest was quiet. Only sounds of nature waking up surrounded him as Konohamaru walked further into the clearing, his keen eyes searching everywhere, detecting every simple movement. Letting his breath out in one curt sigh, Konohamaru took another step forward... And came to a stop as he felt the sharp and cold tip of a kunai against his throat. "I assume you are looking for me." came the cold, unconcerned voice of a woman behind him. The young jounin didn't even think about it as instinct took over. In one quick motion, he dodged the blade, bent down on his knees and spun around to kick the woman's legs out from under her. Then he jumped back a little to put some distance between them and as the woman got up, he got his first glance of her. And he did take in all aspects of her appearance... Recording all of the details of this hated woman into his memory... from her black hair tucked back into the bandana of her protector with only two bangs falling before her eyes to the black eyes, black as coals... "Yoshida Suzume." he practically spat out her name, his voice filled with so much disgust. "I am here to exact justice on you for the crimes you committed against Konoha." His eyes narrowed. "And for harming my student." The woman chuckled. "Oooh, how touching... But for that..." There was a flash of light, and the next second the brunette looked, Suzume was no longer standing a few feet away from him. "...you have to catch me first." came her voice from above, from the canopy of trees. ... "Lord Sixth," Kakashi heard Kiba's voice in the ear piece. "We are closing in on them. What is our next..." Before he could finish, there was an explosion of a loud, high-pitched and ringing sound and Kakashi had to pull out the earpiece in the nick of time to protect his hearing. As the powerful blast died down slowly, the former Hokage brought the piece to his ear once again. "What is going on? Is everyone alright?" No sound came, only a weird buzzing. Cursing under his breath, he did a quick hand seal, and was suddenly surrounded by lightning... ... "You moron!" The woman ran to her friend. "I told you not to do it! You're still not an expert on sound blasts!" The woman on the ground tried to get up, but it was apparent that she wasn't doing a good job - her balance was too set off. "We needed to stop them - they were about to catch us!" Hearing a buzzing sound, the other looked up and around, gritting her teeth. Nothing could be seen, but she was sensing a powerful chakra... an insanely powerful chakra. "Good luck with that, you idiot! I'm out of here!" "What?!" the woman yelped, positively alarmed. "Wait!" But the former had already started to disappear through the trees. Clenching her jaw, the woman got to her feet, slowly, shakily... Her hands then moved to the crossed swords on her back, extracting two thin and long swords.

If it had to come down to a fight, they might as well have a taste of the Fujaku Hisho Shoken. (2)

... So that was how she wanted to play it, huh? He had made his plan as soon as she got lost between the trees. Without wasting any time, Konohamaru used a fire jutsu to create a huge fire wall in front of him, then punched the ground, which caused a whirlwind to be born. Using the air currents to his advantage, the jounin then sent the whirlwind, powered by the flames, directly to the cluster of trees. She wouldn't just stand around to get roasted. She would have to come down. Sure enough, he saw a flash of blue that probably meant she was using a water technique to meet the inferno. Light smoke began covering the area - which gave him a chance to prepare his second attack. Inhaling, the brunette let out a huge cloud of ashes from his mouth and then, jerking his head back to activate the trigger, he watched as flames instantly covered the area... A huge explosion went off, illuminating the dark sky. Konohamaru then took out eight shurikens, one in between each finger, and waited... "Geez, you're indeed going all out, aren't you?" Turning around quickly, he saw the woman for a moment before he threw half of the shurikens at her, but the next he looked, she wasn't there at all. "That kid must have really meant something to you." Turning to the second direction, Konohamaru threw the second group of the shurikens. Suzume tut tutted, her voice almost sounding like she was enjoying herself. "Now now, these rash actions won't do, will they?" "You bit-" "Hey, watch out that tongue. This is not how you talk to a lady." "News flash, I will never consider you a lady." "Hah. Guess I will have to show you, do I? Torpedo Nails!" When he heard that, the brunette jumped into the air and away from where he was just standing, just as small pieces of whatever weapon she was using embedded themselves into the ground. Not wanting to take any chances, Konohamaru put his hands together to create shadow clones. Precariously, three of the clones walked forward. As soon as they tried to take another step, though... They couldn't. Then hundreds of nails shot from the ground, and Konohamaru jumped behind a tree as the clones disappeared with a poof sound. Suzume had also hid herself behind a tree, hiding with the camouflage technique. Damn, this wouldn't do... She needed some extra help. ... Just before she used the swords to launch herself into the air, she saw someone, someone shrouded in a bright armor of lightning as it seemed, running into the clearing she had just been. Okay... lightning shouldn't be hard. Landing on a branch, the woman quickly did a set of hand signs, and then held her hands in a triangle, positioning them so that she could see the person in between them. "Curse Mandala!" she shouted, and her opponent came to a dead stop as a glowing green pyramid shape materialized around him, trapping him inside. Smirking, the woman began pulling her fingers closer. As the pyramid got tighter and tighter, though... Suddenly there was a poof sound, and the man was no longer there. "Excuse me," then came a drawl from behind her, and she immediately turned back, only to gaze into the face of a white haired man. "But I think you got the wrong one." Thinking quickly, the woman used the swords to slash at him, but next she saw, he was not there. Losing her already unsettled balance, she fell from the tree, but thanks to her wind cutter technique, she landed safely. "Passing Fang!" Without catching her breath properly, she saw something... a ferociously spinning something, which looked like a drill, heading to her way and raised her swords to counter it, but hard... it was so hard to maintain her ground like this... The power forced her to take a few steps, driving her back. Gritting her teeth, she tried her best to resist it... But it was futile. Not long after that, she felt the force of the technique throwing her back, like a rag doll, right into a rock. As she tried to get up, bringing a hand to her head, she heard the two men talking among themselves. "Are all of you okay, Kiba? What happened back there?" "It was nothing we couldn't handle, Lord Sixth, we were just caught unprepared for a second." Lord Sixth?! The woman's eyes widened. Did... a village leader... come seeking them out?! Well, shit. "That's right. I'm the Sixth Hokage, Hatake Kakashi, and it’s not possible you could escape judgement after attacking the Leaf." she heard the drawl once again as she straightened herself up. "It would be in your better interest if you surrender now without resistance..." "Well... I'm sorry, Rokudaime-sama," the woman said from between gritted teeth, emphasizing the last word sarcastically. "But I'm Kamiko from the Yoshida clan, and the Yoshida knows no such thing as surrender." She then brought her hands together to create balls of flame and threw them randomly towards the space between them, causing explosions and creating an opening for her to go into hiding. On Kakashi's signal, Kiba jumped towards the trees to take another place. "If you think you can run from us forever, think again." the former Hokage said, bringing his hands together to create lightning. Out of the charge came two hounds, who growled at him in recognition before running away. ... Suzume bit her thumb and let a bit of blood trail from the wound before slamming her hand on the ground, creating a black shape. "Kuchiyose no Jutsu!" A huge, poisonous green and yellow snake erupted from the ground, coiling around itself before meeting her eyes. "Kessha, bury him to the ground!" Hissing once, the snake rose high into the air before slamming on the earth with a huge bang that shook almost the entire forest, and slid underground. Konohamaru had heard her move. Acting quickly, he also slammed his palm on the ground and yelled, "Kuchiyose no Jutsu!" A huge monkey wearing a Konoha headband appeared in front of him, and as soon as he did, he yelled, "Jump!" Without hesitation the brunet did as he was told, and just when he jumped, a snake burst through the ground, baring his fangs at him. With a primeval shriek, the monkey transformed itself into a long, black and yellow staff and cloned itself right before Konohamaru landed, creating some sort of a prison wall in front of him. The snake's bared fangs collided with the many staffs that had made the wall, but the prison itself wasn't even shaken. At that time, the snake caught the eyes that were protruding from the staff, and its eyes widened. Without going for another attack, it slid back into the hole and disappeared from the view. The staff returned to its original size, releasing Konohamaru from where he was trapped, and the jounin held the staff in one hand in an attack pose while reaching for a kunai with the other. "Enma..." (3) "No words needed, boy. Better not let your guard down." the monkey king spoke from the staff. "We have faced this enemy before." ... The woman's eyes widened when she saw Kessha returning to her. "What do you think you are doing?! Keep attacking, he is not dead yet!" "Are you serious?!" the snake asked in a feminine voice, obviously furious and panicked. "You want me to fight with the fucking monkey king Enma?! Are you out of your mind?!" "So what?!" Suzume yelled, equally pissed off. "Stop being a hebiko (4), and finish them off!" ... "Wait, what do you mean we faced them before?" Konohamaru asked with a frown, thoroughly confused. "You remember back when you summoned me in the orphanage attack?" Enma's arm stretched out from the staff and he touched the adamantine with it, as if tapping his nose. "My nose never failed me. That snake the woman just used was one of those who were present in that attack." For a moment, the brunet didn't even know what to say. "W-what...?" "As you just heard it," the monkey said, glancing at him. "This woman was definitely involved in the attack against Konoha." Konohamaru's mind was reeling, so many questions and thoughts... What did this even mean? That the Sound was once again playing as Orochimaru's pioneers? Was there an even greater scheme behind all of these? Or... he didn't want to think of this, but he was a jounin and he was supposed to look at it from all angles, no matter how disturbing they might be... Was there a possibility... that the sannin wasn't involved in it... at all? He was lost in thought for a moment, he didn't notice the impending threat until Enma called out. "Watch out!" Looking up just in time, the brunette used the staff to ward off the lights, but one of them came too close to his arm, and he hissed in pain as something seared it. Then he heard the woman's high, cold laughter. "Uh oh, guess we just got busted, aren't we?" she said in a sing-song voice, which irritated the man even more. "You couldn't deny the mastermind behind the plan, though, admit it! You numb skulls didn't even suspect a thing!" "What the hell are you talking about?!" "Did you know it took us a lot of time to finally copy that damned curse seal so we can frame that bastard? It was no easy feat, and even harder to create three snakes all at once - just a couple of months ago I could only call forth two." "You..." words were failing him, he was so outraged. There was a whoosh sound right behind him then, and using the kunai he drew out earlier, he slashed, only to meet the air. “Oooh wait… did I see that blade somewhere before?” These words drew the young man’s gaze back to the kunai, and he did a double-take. He hadn’t even realized he pulled out the kunai he had gifted Mitsuki the one he found, still buzzing with lightning, on their way out of the village. His grip only tightened more on the blade as he heard the woman laughing once again, only her voice sounded from far away. "Wait, just answer me this... was that child in some way related to that snake bastard? I thought as much when he looked up at me... Was that the reason you guys kicked him out of the village? Wow, now even we couldn't have planned that!" "What does it matter if he is related to him or not?" Konohamaru yelled in rage, creating another set of clones. "He is still a child!" He then used the clones to throw shurikens towards the woman's voice from all directions. "Did you know that he begged for his life?" the woman then said, from right behind him. This time, his body acted before his mind. Lightning fast, he reached out to grab the woman's shoulder and flipped himself over her in one quick motion. As soon as he landed, still holding on to her, he threw her over himself, basically slamming her into the ground. Without giving her a chance to recover, grabbing the adamantine staff tightly, he brought the end of it, hard, to Suzume's head, seeing her eyes widening in shock. "Cranium crusher!" Just before the staff touched her, though, the woman had disappeared in a flash. The jounin stood there for a moment, enraged. How the fuck did that just happen?! A few feet away, crouched behind a rock, the Oto kunoichi brought a hand to her chest. That... had been close. ... Hearing the growls of the lightning beasts as they drew closer, Kamiko gritted her teeth, she had to do something about them - fast. Turning around, she once again used the swords to create powerful air blasts - slice after another slice - and sent them after the hounds. Easily dodging them, one of them came running at her, its fangs bared, at which the woman dug one of the swords to the ground, swinging around it and kicking the air currents at the creature's face. Although it stopped the hound, its lightning did catch her left foot and the woman cursed as she knelt on the ground, holding it. Damn, this was going to make things hard for her. Hearing a sound right then, Kamiko took a dozen shurikens and threw four of them randomly, towards the cardinal directions. She saw a ninja rushing towards her from one direction, and she pulled the strings attached to the shuriken to make it fly towards the enemy, but the weapon passed through him and the body disappeared. A clone... The real ninja then jumped her from a completely different direction, forcing her to get up, which caused pain to shout up through her left leg. She didn't have time to concentrate on it, though, as she saw the opponent's fist soaring towards her face. So he was going to rely on taijutsu, huh? Well, that was just fine with her. Gathering chakra to the tips of her fingers, she prepared to launch her attack. This was meant to cause the sound waves emitted by the body, the heartbeat for example, to respond to her chakra and make a pressure powerful enough to cause some serious damage. Bonus points if she managed to hit the enemy in the chest area. So they fought, but her opponent was good. It was apparent that he was very skilled, as he managed to dodge her every move. Her hand did come close to his body once or twice, but caused nothing more than a flinch. Just when she made another move, the ninja suddenly brought up his left arm and right leg and before she knew it, her arm was caught in between them. A crack was heard. Crying out loud from the pain, Kamiko fell on the ground, holding the broken arm. Seeing that the man was still advancing, she tried to reach one of the swords using her left arm... Out of nowhere, tiny wires wrapped around the sword and before she could touch it, the weapon broke into tiny pieces. Eyes widened in shock, she turned around herself to reach for the other, but before she could do that, a powerful blast of power sent her flying. Just when she was about to get up again, she felt something... a powerful, burning electric surge directed to her back, not piercing it, but its presence so threatening that she found it impossible to even take another step... "Chidori. A thousand birds." came the voice of the sixth behind her. "One hit and you will die the worst death... Suffering as your insides burned on with hundreds of volts." Feeling the kunoichi shiver before him, Kakashi continued in the same cold tone. "Surrender now. It's over." There was really nothing else she could do. Slowly, cursing under her breath for it... She raised her hands up. ... Suddenly hearing a buzz from his ear piece, Konohamaru concentrated on it, while his keen eyes searched everywhere for Suzume. "We are done here, Konohamaru. It's all up to you now." Hearing that, a big grin etched its way on his face. That was it... "Did you hear that?" he yelled towards the woman, although he knew that she probably didn't. "Your little friend is finished. You are all alone now!" "Oh. Just like how you left that kid alone?" came the woman's voice. "I know what you did. I know how you trapped him so we couldn't hear him!" "Bet you didn't know how he was crying when we were finished with him, though?" came her whisper from right behind him then, and for a moment... everything came to a stop as the jounin froze... literally froze. He didn't believe her other words from before... He knew Mitsuki would never beg for his life and he knew for sure that no matter what that woman believed, he wasn't sent away from Konoha, Lord Seventh would never allow that... But... he... was crying...? How deeply must he have been hurt - not just physically but emotionally too - after what he had gone through in the village...? And they could do nothing to stop it... He himself had failed as his sensei... "Boy look out!" he heard Enma's voice, but then it was too late. He hadn't noticed Suzume sneaking up behind him. There was an explosion and Konohamaru felt himself thrown into the air, with a burning pain in his back. He landed a few feet away, and brought a hand to his wounds as he tried to get up. Enma was beside him in a second, with a disapproving look on his face. "Didn't I tell you not to get distracted? Zoning out is the last thing you would want to do with someone like her around! Get a grip already!" "I-I know," the brunet mumbled. "I'm fine..." Then he once again heard the voice of the Lord Sixth coming from the earpiece, although his tone was harsher than before. "Konohamaru. If you are going to be careless, I will have to step in." Then his voice softened a little. "You have come this far this good. You wanted to fight her alone. Don't let me take this chance away from you now." Those... were just the words he needed. Closing his eyes, Konohamaru straightened himself and got up, forgetting about the pain for a moment to concentrate on ending this. Focusing on his chakra, he called upon a rasengan... A big one... and watched it as it got bigger... [Flashback] ...this... this was not happening... It felt like time had stopped, trapping Konohamaru inside his own personal hell as he watched, too shocked to even breathe, his student... passing away... right before his very eyes… What he wouldn't give to be dying in Mitsuki's place right now... He was too young... Just barely thirteen... He did not deserve this - he deserved to live!... "...Sh... Shall I announce the time...?" When he heard the nurse... all of a sudden, he snapped back to life. Without seeing eyes, he strode to the door and burst it open, rushing inside... Two of the nurses managed to barely stop him before he reached the bed, and Konohamaru tried to control his breathing as he looked at an unmoving Mitsuki. "Konohamaru-san, please..." one of the nurses mumbled, tearing up. "Mitsuki!" the jounin yelled, barely recognizing his own voice, filled with so many emotions. "You can do this, kiddo, don't give up! You are so much stronger than this! Come back to us!" "Konohamaru-san, please you have to step back...!" said one of the nurses, she barely had the strength to push back a man like Konohamaru and he was clearly not accepting his student's death but... there was nothing more they could do...! The kid... was gone... his heart didn't respond... "Tsunade-sama...?" murmured the second nurse, looking at the former Hokage. "Wait... wait just a second..." Sakura mumbled in Tsunade's place, her eyes still on the machine. "Sakura-san... It might be too much already..." One of the nurses warned her. "No... no, please... please don't give up on him... He's strong, he'll pull through... I'm begging you, please don't give up..." Konohamaru said, almost as if in a trance. "Let's just leave the child in peace..." another nurse said, her voice shaky. Tsunade snapped back to herself and hastily hushed the nurse, staring at Sakura. "Sakura-san..." But as the nurse was about to mumble the same words as before... a tiny but sudden sound erupted from the machine, causing everyone's eyes to immediately set at it. As the heart rate slowly, very slowly fell back to a steady rhythm, Sakura broke into a smile, and laughed softly, while tears fell down from her eyes. "You really do like your surprises, don't you?" she mused fondly, leaning over to kiss Mitsuki on the top of his head. A tear fell on the closed eye of the child. Tsunade smiled too, but it was a broken smile. "Really, kid... I'm not a young woman anymore, don't scare us like that..." Konohamaru was hit by such a huge wave of relief that he almost couldn't stand his ground. He brought his hand over his mouth as he began to softly cry himself. He didn't object this time as the nurse told him he should really wait outside, and silently retreated out of the room, his eyes on Mitsuki all the time. [End of Flashback] He heard a sliding sound, trees crushing as the giant snake once again made her way to him. His eyes, however, were locked on the woman, who stood behind the beast, a disgusting smirk all over her face... And Konohamaru stroke forward. He swung the adamantine staff towards the snake, enlarging the staff. Enma burst out at the end of it, wrapping his arms around the snake before he pierced her throat with his fangs. And before she could do anything... Konohamaru had grabbed the woman by her collar, slamming her into a tree... Suzume's eyes widened for one last time before the rasengan hit her chest with full force. It was over... ... Enma turned to his normal form as the other Konoha ninjas gathered around, all just silently looking at the brunet. The monkey king had a small smile on his face, his look both exasperated and proud. 'You have quite the grandson, Sarutobi...' he thought to himself. ... Dropping the woman's body to the ground, the jounin looked at her expressionlessly, feeling only... relieved... a whole... [Flashback] Konohamaru felt so proud of his students... The second round of the Chuunin exams was over, and they had managed excellent teamwork. Much better than what he expected, really, what with Boruto being Boruto... Speaking of which, he noticed two genins in his team were approached by their family, receiving cheers and congratulations, big smiles on their faces... and of course, Boruto had been in a gloating mode... The next thing he noticed was his third student... standing all by himself, a couple of feet away from them, just looking at his two teammates and their families with a small smile. And something about that bothered the young jounin. About how Mitsuki had no one to cheer for him, at least for that moment... Making his decision, he started walking towards him. The blue haired boy was surprised when he felt a hand on his shoulder. He turned around to gaze into the smiling face of his sensei. "Well done, kiddo, great job," Konohamaru said encouragingly. "I knew you guys would do it." And slowly, the boy's face broke into a full-on smile as well... [End of Flashback] 'Thank you... sensei...' Hearing the faint voice brought by the wind itself, the brunet's eyes widened for a moment. Before he knew it, he had fallen on his knees beside Suzume's body, his head bowed low as he started weeping softly, and the sun's first rays began seeping through the trees...

A.N:

(1) Remember or note down these names. They are gonna be very important in the following projects. (2) You can search this and almost all of the technique names listed on this chapter on Narutopedia. (3) This Enma is the Enma who was Hiruzen's personal summon. We do not use Konohamaru's canon summons, the toad or the monkey, in our storyline. (4) This literally means snake child, but I used it here to mean "baby snake", as in Suzume telling Kessha to stop acting like a scared baby.

#boruto:sacrifices #boruto #naruto #konohamaru #mitsuki #boruto fanfiction #naruto fanfiction

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tisthedamnseasson · 4 years ago

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something wretched about this (something so precious about this)- A Vera x Hamish Fic

Alternatively called Caught: A Vera x Hamish Fic

A/N: Sorry it took a while but I finally finished a prompt! This ended up bringing two prompts in one so hopefully that’s okay. Also it got way longer than I expected. Hopefully it turned out okay.

Prompts: Hamish and Vera (madly but like subtly (or not) in love- from @upsetpizzaaaa

Everyone walks in on Hamish and Vera- from @nerdgenie:

Warning: It starts a little angsty but then gets more lighthearted.

Enjoy :)

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They really needed to stop doing this. Meaning, that he and Vera needed to stop having sex in her office, not that they needed to stop having sex in general. They had way too many close calls for comfort and even though everyone practically already knew, both of them had agreed to keep their...relationship private. So they really needed to stop doing it in a place where anyone could just waltz right in while they were in a...compromising position. Though they also frequented both her place and his apartment, those were more for when they had made plans in advance and/or wanted to stay the night. The reliquary was more...convenient since both Vera and even Hamish for the past few months spent more time at the temple than anywhere else. Often either dealing with the latest Order business or researching the current threat against them all. Even though after the breaches stopped where they ended up spending more time at the other’s places, more often than not they still found themselves having stolen moments in her office. Usually it was either after another failed attempt of getting Vera’s magic back or when seeing the beautiful bar in the temple’s lounge became too tempting for Hamish and his sobriety.

This time it was a little mix between the two.

Vera had started to close in on herself after the latest spell they had tried to get her powers back also didn’t work. She had looked so...broken. Definitely not like the powerful woman, with or without magic, whom Hamish had grown to care for way too quickly for his liking. Yet, at the same time, he knew the significance of her showing him such open vulnerability and selfishly relished in it. He relished in the fact that Vera was opening up to him, showing the sides to her that she deemed “weak”, not in the fact that she was hurting in a way that he couldn’t seem to help.

It reminded Hamish too much of Cassie. Of the times where the hunt to stop bad magic got too much, dealing with yet another loss pack member because of it. To anyone else, she was a poised pack leader, ready to fight for their cause no matter the cost. To him, he saw much, much more than that. In retrospect, that was probably one of the many reasons why he was so drawn to Vera in the first place, even when she was the enemy. Apparently his type was older strong, powerful women leaders who often felt like they had the weight of the world on their shoulders but didn’t show it. It was moments like those, where Vera looked so lost without her magic like she was about to give up, where the reminders of Cassie got too much for Hamish and all he wanted was to go to the lounge’s bar and get himself lost in all of his favorite cocktails.

Only he didn’t.

Instead, Hamish had followed Vera into her office before closing the door behind them with the snap of his fingers and watched as she sunk into her chair, her eyes looking into empty nothingness. He had ended up kneeling down in front of her and gently touched her cheek, making her turn to catch his gaze. Instead of recoiling away like she had the first time he tried to comfort her, she sunk further into his touch.

“Listen to me.” He had fiercely told her. “You are still a powerful and terrifying woman, with or without your magic.”

A small smile had appeared on her face and shone brightly in her eyes at his words. She had then turned away from his grasp, leaving his arm to fall on his side, and cleared her throat. “Even if that may be. The council is going to find out sooner or later. And when they do...” Vera hadn’t finished her sentence, but she didn’t have to.

They wouldn’t allow her to be the Grand Magus, or even to still be a part of the Order of The Blue for that matter. The least damage they would do would be erasing her memories of her entire life in the Order, like she had done with him and the rest of the Knights. However, he knew that in the Order’s eyes, Vera had been very lenient on them when she had done it. If most or even some of the council members were like Kepler, then they’d might want to kill Vera and be done with it, not wanting to risk someone with that much information on the Order to get in the wrong hands.

“Hey,” Hamish had said, taking her hand within his, “look at me.”

Normally Vera would scold him for telling her, the Grand Magus, what to do. Instead, she had turned to look at him again with an annoyed expression on her face that didn’t hide the sadness and fear in her eyes. “What?”

“I’m not going to let that happen.”

She gave him an incredulous look, “Oh really? How do you manage to do that? We’re nowhere close to finding a way to get my magic back and you can only use magic for me to stay face for too long.”

“Well, I think my acting has improved.” He teased to which she rolled her eyes. Hamish then placed his free hand on her cheek again, and began to say in a more serious tone, “I’ll make sure no one finds out even if it’s the last thing I do. And we will find a way to get your magic back. Mark my words.”

Her eyes shone with such emotion that he had the pleasure of being one of the few people to witness. “Why do you care so much? Why would you risk everything for me?”

Hamish gave her a small smile that hopefully told her everything that he couldn’t fully say yet. He then took her hand that he had still been holding and lifted it up towards him before placing his lips against her soft skin. He put all of the feelings that he had felt for her as much as he possibly could in that one kiss. At her barely audible gasp of pleasure, Hamish tilted his head to meet her gaze. “I think you know why.”

And just like that, their mouths and bodies had swiftly collided.

It usually would be rough and hungry with both of them exhilaratingly fighting for dominance, Tundra loving the push and pull as well. But then she’d eventually take over and he’d always happily oblige. Though this time had still been similar, it had been slower, both taking their time to discover each other’s bodies on top of her desk like it was their first time doing so. There were moments where it was still rough and hungry and then others where they were slow and tender, depending on which emotion they wanted to get out at the moment. Whether it was from their individual emotional turmoil or their feelings towards each other, they poured it all out.

Nothing else existed. Only Vera. And their bodies colliding together in perfect harmony and euphoria.

Usually Hamish would be able to get lost in the Grand Magus but be alert enough to use his keen wolf senses to detect if anyone was coming before it was too late. They had a little more close calls recently since he also had to use his magic to quickly make themselves and her office look unruffled. But they had always made it just in time before getting caught.

Only, this time their luck had finally run out.

Unlike those other times, Hamish had completely gotten so lost in Vera that even if he had heard someone coming or Tundra’s warnings, he hadn’t even noticed. Which was why when the doors flew open, they didn’t have any time to separate before the entire pack caught them in an extremely compromising position.

“Shit.” Hamish breathed out as both he and Vera quickly tore themselves from each other as he both heard Randall and Jack make two completely different kinds of noises of shock.

Vera then quickly grabbed the nearest piece of clothing and covered as much as she could before nudging his shoulder. He tore his gaze from the gaping mouths of his friends to catch her expectant look.

“Clothing spell.” The Grand Magus ordered him, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. And it was, but Hamish was also used to being naked in front of his fellow knights and the thought didn’t occur to him as quickly as it would have if anyone else caught them.

But then once she gave him the command, it completely sunk in that they all had caught him naked with Vera. He then quickly spoke the incantation that put anything that they had messed up back in their places, including their clothes.

“I knew it!” Randall exclaimed, pointing his finger toward the pair both out of accusation and triumph. He then turned his attention to his fellow wolves. “You all owe me 50 bucks each.”

“We agreed to no such thing, Babe.” Gabrielle replied first, arm intertwined with his as she checked her nails on her other hand, not seeming to be phased by the current situation.

He gave her an incredulous look like she said that 2+2=5. “Uh, yeah we did.”

“No we didn’t.” Jack interjected, who had his hand covering his eyes and his back facing Hamish and Vera. “You said and I quote ‘I bet you 50 bucks that Hamish and Vera are doing it’. And I said ‘I’d rather turn myself into a tree again than find out��.”

“And I said that I didn’t give two flying shits.” Lilith chimed in. “I’m just glad that it seems like Hamish is having an active sex life again.”

“Thanks, Lil.” Hamish gave her a small tight smile, wanting to be anywhere but there. If they had caught him with anyone else, then he’d take their teasing in stride. But this was the Grand Magus. And Vera Stone, with or without the esteemed title, wasn’t like anyone else.

Gabrielle interrupted his thoughts with a bored sigh. “And I said that they are obviously screwing each other so I definitely wasn’t going to bet against you.” She then turned her attention toward Jack and rolled her eyes. “Jack, you can turn around now. They’re fully clothed.”

“I don’t wanna.” He huffed, reminding Hamish of a little kid.

Randall wrapped an arm around Jack’s shoulder, “Come on, Dude. I thought you were way passed the whole ‘only-child-shy-around-naked-people’ thing?”

“It’s not that. I’d just rather not see Hamish and Vera all,” he visibly shuddered, “post sex and shit.”

The two in question turned to look at each other, both silently ready to end this little conversation about their personal sex life with the entire pack.

However, Randall responded to Jack before they could. “Ohhhh. I get it, Buddy. This is awkward for you because you see Vera like some weird hot mom figure. And no one wants to see their parental figure getting all hot and sweaty with their friend.”

“That is enough, Mr. Carpio.” Vera finally spoke up, using her ‘sexy Grand Magus in charge’ tone, as Hamish secretly liked to call it. She then as gracefully as possible, slid down off of her desk before straightening her clothes. The Grand Magus then stood behind her chair and clasped her hands together, looking as regal as ever. “I think we can all be civilized adults here. So can you please act like it and make sure this stays between us?”

“Oh, like a ‘what happens in the Reliquary stays in the Reliquary’ sorta thing?” Randall asked, making weird hand motions that Hamish for the life of him could not decipher.

Hamish then quickly got up from the desk as well. “Basically.” He nodded, folding his arms. “Can you all just please keep your mouth shut about this?”

The four knights looked at each other before turning their attention back to the pair and all nodded in unison. A certain sense of pride formed within him at the sight of his wolves making a decision together without any verbal communication and being so in sync.

“If you really want to keep whatever,” Lilith began to say then waved a lazy hand toward him and Vera before continuing, “this is. Then you really should stop screwing in a place where anyone can just waltz in and catch you two banging each other’s brains out.”

Hamish placed his hand on his head in exasperation as Vera cleared her throat. “Duly noted, Miss Bathory. Now can we all please move on from mine and Mr. Duke’s private relationship and focus on whatever it was you four came here to talk about?”

He straightened his stance, ready to focus on more Order and Knight business instead of his friends continuing to talk about his and Vera’s relationship.

Jack then raised his hand and Hamish could not help but be amused at the sight.

“Mr. Morton, this isn’t a classroom.” Vera told him, a slight soft tone of fondness laced in her voice.

Jack looked at his outreached hand and seemed to realize what he was doing before putting it down and saying, “Right. Sorry. I just have a question before we change the subject.”

Hamish and Vera both turned to look at each other for a moment, both deciding together if they should allow him to ask the question or just finally move on from this horrid conversation. They then both sighed, knowing that they were going to give in anyways.

Turning their attention back to Jack, the pair reluctantly nodded.

“Fine. Go ahead.” Hamish answered for them, bracing himself for whatever the question was.

“Just please try to be quick, Mr. Morton. This isn’t a high school bathroom where we dish on the latest gossip.”

“Not with that attitude it’s not.” Randall muttered under his breath, earning a glare from both the Grand Magus and Hamish.

“Well…” Jack timidly began to say then cleared his throat before continuing. “What exactly is going on between you two?”

Hamish immediately regretted his and Vera’s decision to allow him to ask the question, even though that was the most probable question for him to ask.

Jack continued. “I mean besides…” He then proceeded to awkwardly create an image with his hands that normally Hamish would’ve laughed at if it wasn’t about him and Vera.

Randall shook his head. “No, Dude you got it wrong. It was more like this.” He then proceeded to create his own, making Hamish groan in annoyance.

He was going to kill his friends.

“That’s enough!” Vera exclaimed, one hand on her hip and the other placed on her head in frustrated exasperation.

“Seriously, you two.” Hamish scolded them. He then relaxed himself and shrugged before continuing in a more casual tone, “Besides, it was more like a mix between the both of them.”

“Not helping.” She chided, giving him a deadly glare that made him gulp both out of fear and from being turned on. The Grand Magus then cleared her throat before turning her attention back toward the four knights, Jack in particular. “Mr. Morton, as I said, my and Hamish’s relationship is private. And we prefer it to be that way.”

It was not lost on him that she called him by his first name and not ‘Mr. Duke’. Which Vera usually would do in public as a guise to help make appearances look like she didn’t see him in a different way from anyone else. Sometimes, she’d call him ‘Mr. Duke’ in private but for completely different reasons. But that was beside the point.

Hamish then noticed Jack had been looking between him and Vera. “But it is a relationship? Not just...that?”

She opened her mouth to respond and he knew that she was probably going to reiterate that their relationship was private or even say something like ‘That’s none of your business Mr. Morton’. Instead, her mouth closed again before Vera turned to catch Hamish’s gaze. Her expression was filled with more emotion than she liked to show, especially in public. There was a vulnerability in it that he only saw when it was just the two of them. Her eyes searched within his, seeming to ask permission.

He then nodded and gave her a small yet tender smile. Before she could do anything else, however, he walked toward her before placing an arm around her back and waist. Vera gave him a small, genuine smile that he noticed was only reserved for him, and wrapped her own arm around his back as well.

She then turned her head back toward his four fellow knights. “Yes, we are indeed in a relationship.”

The four of them were uncharacteristically silent as they seemed to take the image in.

Randall became the first one to speak up, seeming to be the one that was more shocked that they were in an actual relationship. “So you two aren’t just angerly boinking each other because it’s kinda forbidden and hot?”

“No.” Hamish answered him with a wince. “And please never say the word ‘boinking’ ever again.”

“Or the term ‘weird hot mom figure’ while we’re at it.” Vera chimed in. She then lifted her free hand up and pointed a finger in the air. “In fact, consider those actual orders from your Grand Magus.”

Randall rolled his eyes. “Ugh, why do you always gotta ruin the fun?” Only, there wasn’t any malice in his voice like there would’ve been a month or so prior.

“With that out of the way,” Vera began to say, “do any of you have any more questions about us that we may or may not answer before we talk about actual Order business?” Vera asked them all in general. “Mr. Carpio?”

He shook his head. “Nah. I think for now I’ve had my fill of the Adventures of Hameo and Veriet.”

Hamish groaned and placed his free hand on his forehead again. “Don’t drag her into the names. They’re bad enough just with me.”

Randall shook his head. “No can do Hamikan Skywalker. You and Veradme Amidala are a package deal now.”

“Hey, you know I identify more with Obi-wan Kenobi.” Hamish couldn’t help but argue. “Besides, if you watched Clone Wars like I keep telling you to do so then you’d know we’re way more like Obi-wan Kenobi and Duchess Satine.”

“Okay fine, how’s Hami-wan Kenobi and Veratine?”

Hamish mulled it over. “Hmmm. Actually not bad this time.”

“Enough! The both of you!” Vera exclaimed. “I am this close to powdering you both again and making you think that you are penguins from Antarctica.”

“Sorry.” Hamish apologized in a soft tone, giving her a fond look, which seemed to calm her.

Randall didn’t seem phased by her threat like he would’ve been before. “That’s a very oddly specific threat. May I ask why a penguin? I mean they’re adorable and all. But if I were to think that I was an animal I’d much prefer to be a puppy.”

“Duly noted.” Hamish told him and then turned to the other three. “Anyone else have questions before we never talk about this again? Jack?”

“Nah, I’m good. After this conversation I’ll be happy to never talk or even think about this ever again.”

“Agreed.” Vera interjected then turned her attention to Lilith. “Miss Bathory?”

“Nope.” She shrugged. “I’m just glad Hamish seems to be the happiest I’ve seen him in a long time.” She then asked him, “You are happy, right?”

Hamish stole a quick glance at the woman who he still had his arm around, before looking back at Lilith and nodding with a giant smile. “Very.”

He noticed Vera looking at him but couldn’t quite meet her gaze, feeling a little self-conscious.

“I have a question.” Gabrielle interjected.

The Grand Magus turned her head toward her direction. “Yes, Miss Dupres?”

“Are you happy, Grand Magus?” She asked pointedly, something sparkling in her eyes that Hamish couldn’t quite figure out and was kind of afraid to.

“I don’t see how that’s any of your concern.” Vera answered in a clear, authoritative voice. But he knew better, feeling her arm loosen in its hold.

She was closing in on herself again.

“Well, you did ask if we had any more questions and that is mine. You don’t have to answer, like you said before. But I figured since Hamish answered the question that you might as well.”

“Gabrielle.” Hamish chided, but she didn’t look phased. He wondered what angle she was playing, but knew it wasn’t anything nefarious that she might’ve had in the past. Whatever it was, however, she seemed to be using her psych degree for help.

He then looked at Vera. “You don’t have to answer it.”

“It’s okay.” She told him, still looking at Gabrielle. The younger girl gave her what seemed to be a nod of encouragement. Vera then shifted her body in his grasp so that she was fully facing him. She then gently placed her hand on his cheek, making Hamish stare at her wide-eyed. It had been hard for her to visibly show affection, and though the process was slow, she had been starting to show it more and more to him. But doing so in front of the others? That was completely out of her comfort zone. Did she really care about him enough to do so? What exactly was happening?

Vera then gave him a rare and bright smile before saying, “Yes. I am very happy. Happier than I’ve ever been in a long time.” Her eyes then shifted inward and he could practically hear her say in her head, “Even with the ever lingering threat of my demise without my magic”.

Hamish couldn’t help but gulp at the sincerity in her voice and the way she looked at him with such emotion. He was completely taken aback by not only her words and the fact that she even said them in the first place, but also the fact that she said them in front of his friends. It would be amazing enough whenever she would show him such vulnerability when it was just the two of them. And now she was showing not only her vulnerability but her feelings for him to the others.

Oh how he so badly wanted to kiss her and then go back on her desk to finish what they started.

But his friends were still there and they already saw way too much. Both in the physical sense and the emotional sense.

Seeming to be thinking the same thing, Vera changed her expression and tore herself from each other’s grasps. Both he and Tundra ached at her missing touch already. She then walked around her desk and toward his four knights, clearing her throat. “If any of you utter a word about anything that just happened since the moment you walked in, I will make you regret it so badly that you’d wish you dealt with an Emperor demon instead. Do I make myself clear?”

The four of them nodded with both amusement but mostly fear in their eyes. “Yes Grand Magus.” They answered in unison.

Vera then clasped her hands together. “Great. Now that all of that is finally over.” She then placed her on her hips expectantly. “What was such an emergency that all four of you needed to come to tell me?”

“Oh right yeah.” Jack responded first before clearing his throat and saying in a more serious tone. “Speaking of demons...there’s one on the loose.”

Both Hamish and Vera gaped at them before he asked, “Why didn’t you say anything earlier?”

“Sorry, we were a little distracted by the confirmation that Vermish became canon.” Randall answered like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

Hamish gave him a pointed look. “You gave us a ship name?”

“He did.” Jack answered for him. “Like a while ago.”

He mulled the name over. It was kind of flattering that their relationship had a name. “I like it.”

“What the hell is a ship name?” Vera asked, but then shook her head. “Never mind, I do not want to know. We’ve tangented enough already.” She then went back to full Grand Magus mode. “Pray tell, what do you know about this demon?”

“We’re not quite too sure who it is, but if my suspicions are correct then I think they’re a friend of mine and possibly not even all that dangerous.” Lilith answered for them.

“Right, you have demon friends now.” Vera then walked back toward the back of her desk before taking a seat at her chair.

Hamish remained standing beside her, placing a hand on the top of her chair. Vera then placed her own hand within his before pulling it down to the arm of her chair and placing their intertwined hands on top. All four of the knights eyed the hand placed but didn’t seem to be bothered by it.

Vera then gave his hand a gentle squeeze for comfort before saying, “Now, tell us everything you know.”

#hamish x vera #the order #hamish duke #vera stone #the order fanfiction #vera x hamish #randall carpio #jack morten #gabrielle dupres #lilith bathory #kj writes #kj's writings #my stuff #kj's writing

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silence-burns · 5 years ago

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No Place Like Here (Except For a Few Taverns) //part 3

Fandom: The Witcher

Summary: Life on the road is never easy for a lone witcher, but it would get significantly easier if he didn’t have two idiots following his every step.

"Wait, what?"

Disbelief was clear as day on your face as you took in Geralt's words.

The forest was loud and humid, the air sticking to every inch of your uncovered skin in a wet layer. The day was slowly coming to an end, but you still had a few more hours before the sun would set. As far as you were concerned, Geralt's choice completely lacked any logic.

Jaskier pretended to be busy with his horse, tying and untying it to one of the trees surrounding a small clearing in the bushes. He, as well as the horse, kept a keen eye on you, and even more keen on Geralt, currently very busy with preparing a camp. The bloodlusted insects were buzzing in huge hordes over your heads.

"Geralt, you never mentioned a word about a camp. We were supposed to kill a harpy, remember? Why make a camp when you can go literally 10 minutes south to those huge rock hills and kill it when it's still sleeping?"

Your gesture was wide, but all of you knew what you had in mind. Having taken a path used only by wildlife, you'd come very close to seeing the sandstone billowing high where the forest ended. You were on the very edge of it, and stopping now was ridiculous.

Geralt pushed a heavy bag into your arms and patted your arm. "I am going hunting. And you're making a camp."

"But the harpy—"

"Over my dead body you're getting anywhere close to it. If I see you wandering off, this is the last time I'm taking you with me."

With such dramatic words, Geralt grabbed his sword and just as dramatically disappeared into the thick bushes. You let the bag fall.

"Hasn't he said something like that a few times already?" Jaskier wondered, leaving his horse and shamelessly diving into the bag's contents.

"Yeah, well, he might be a little on edge after that time you got lost in the castle…"

"You lost me in the castle."

"I told you to stay close."

"And then you ran!"

You shrugged. "Survival of the fittest, bard."

Jaskier replied with something you decided to ignore and went to one of the higher trees around the clearing. With a little jump, you got onto the lowest branch and began climbing up. Jaskier took his head out of the bag.

"If you fall and die, Geralt's gonna kill us."

"Then don't distract me."

You shook off the bugs leaping into your hair and looked over the forest. The sandstone formation reached high in the south, but from your position it would be hard to see the caves so often used by harpies to sleep through the day. You couldn't see Geralt either, but he could have been masking his presence, disappearing into the shadowed forest.

A few hours away from civilisation, the forest was alive and buzzing with creatures of various origins. Jaskier noticed that too. He wondered what might have noticed him. If he focused, he could sense hungry eyes watching from the shadows.

He backed slowly to your tree, eyes darting to every branch bobbing from the wind.

"Do you think there's some room left up there for me?"

"Jaskier, you're gonna break your neck if you try to—"

"Then don't leave me here!"

You sighed. The day wasn't supposed to be like that, with Geralt having fun killing monsters, and you babysitting his personal headache.

You looked down, assessing how long it'd take Jaskier to ignore your warning and start climbing. You deemed the consequences not worthy of the potential view.

You hopped down. When your feet hit the ground, his left as he jumped at your sudden appearance. Then he was clinging to your arm like his life depended on it.

"I think something's watching us," he whispered straight into your ear, his breath hot and uncomfortable on your skin. With a grimace, you dragged him back to the clearing and unwrapped your bow from his lute's bag.

"You could always play it a nice song, and hopefully it'll leave us be," you suggested, unsuccessfully trying to pry his fingers off your arm.

You sat on an old log, methodically stringing the bow. Jaskier crouched behind you, listening to every leaf move.

"Has it always been so noisy?"

"You'd notice more sounds if you kept your mouth shut more often, Jaskier. It's a forest. There are supposed to be animals."

"Yeah, but you know, there's already a harpy, so who knows what else might be living out there… "

"And that's precisely why I've got a bow," you said, reaching for the arrows to look for any damage inflicted during the ride.

Jaskier's lips formed a very thin, very tense line, but as always, failed to stay closed for long. "Maybe we should start a fire. It could scare some monsters off, right?"

"Sure, and attract some others."

"You're not helping!"

"I'm here for the harpy, Jaskier," you patted his arm. "And since you're my lucky charm in all monster-related matters, I'm sure it'll pay us a visit soon. You attract monsters like nothing else, so you might as well prepare for it."

Jaskier's skin turned an unhealthy shade of pale, not warmed even by the realization that hit him. "You're using me!"

"It's not like I forced you to come," you reminded him.

"I thought I'd be safe around you!"

A deep, pained sigh escaped you. "Jaskier… There's no force on this earth that could save you from your own damned luck."

#No Place Like Here #geralt x reader #geralt x you #jaskier x you #jaskier x reader #geralt/reader #geralt/you #jaskier/you #jaskier/reader #geralt #geralt of rivia #jaskier #the witcher

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lady-of-the-lotus · 4 years ago

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Fractured Ice - Ch. 4/7

Xue Yang whisks a solipsistic Lan Xichen off on a murder roadtrip to raise Xiao Xingchen and Meng Yao from the grave. Because that will solve all of their problems, right?

Xue Yang reaches around Lan Xichen’s head, ties the strip of white cloth over his eyes, and lies down beside him. There’s little room between them on the narrow straw mattresses, and the last thing Lan Xichen feels before he drifts off to sleep is the whisper of Xue Yang’s breath on his neck.

XueXiao & XiYao - Rated M - Read on AO3! Tumblr: Ch. 1 Ch. 2 Ch. 3 Ch. 5

Chapter 4 - turned all the mirrors around

It takes Lan Xichen three days to surreptitiously gather money for the trip. Upon his return from his mother’s house before Lan Qiren’s lectures, he’d noticed that the purse he kept in his rooms was gone, but it hadn’t mattered until now.

Uncle’s hidden hand, no doubt. Worried about what he’d do if he were able to escape the Cloud Recesses.

He meets Xue Yang before dawn at the gate of the Cloud Recesses. Lan Xichen’s heart is beating fast. It’s thrilling, being out so late—early?, sneaking around, breaking a half-dozen rules without so much as a pang of guilt—

All right. Just one pang. Until he reminds himself that nothing matters, that if he can’t trust his own judgment, trust his own senses, then all that matters is how he feels .

Xue Yang tosses him a qiankun bag.

“Your clothes,” he says. “All right, then. Break the gate seal, and let’s get out of this miserable place before I choke to death on all the stuffiness.”

“You didn’t try to break the seal on your own, did you?”

Xue Yang shakes his head in an exaggerated display of pique. “I’m not stupid, Zewu-jun.”

Lan Xichen is examining the gate. “Did you touch it at all?”

“I leaned against it, if that’s what you mean. I was waiting for almost an hour.”

“Sit on the stairs, then!” Lan Xichen quickly draws a shining blue symbol in the air and sends it flying at the gate, but it’s too late. The talismans protecting Cloud Recesses have been upgraded since the Wen invasion, and the second a headband-less Xue Yang had touched the gate it had triggered an alarm.

“We might be able to make it—”

But it’s too late. A dozen white-robed cultivators have arrived, swords drawn, together with—

“Uncle,” Lan Xichen says, bowing deeply. So they had been watching him. Normally, Lan Qiren wouldn’t have been the one to respond to a routine perimeter alarm likely caused by one of Wangji’s wayward rabbits.

Lan Qiren gestures for the other cultivators to fall back. ��Xichen, where are you going?”

Lan Xichen finds that Shuoyue is in his hand. He grips it tighter. “Just to Gusu, Uncle.”

“At this hour? Without telling me?”

“He’s the Clan Leader,” says Xue Yang. He’s twirling his hair, a gesture of pointed disrespect. “He can do whatever he wants.”

Lan Qiren looks confused at this sudden departure from courtesy from someone who had always treated him with almost cloying deference in the past.

Xue Yang puts his hands together and bows low, as if rethinking blowing his cover. “Begging Elder Lan’s pardon, of course.”

Lan Qiren turns to Lan Xichen as if Xue Yang isn’t worth his time. Xue Yang smirks slightly, but his jaw is slightly clenched. Then, almost immediately, his face smoothes itself into its usual expression of bland civility.

“Xichen, return to your chambers at once,” Lan Qiren orders. “This is unseemly. We will discuss it in the morning.”

Pressure is building in Lan Xichen’s chest.

“Xichen! Return to your room at once!”

A warmth. A blooming.

“Xichen!”

Energy is flowing through the air around him, crackling, buzzing, a thousand dots of heat and light all converging on Lan Xichen, sending a current of awful energy through him, an expulsion of pure light—

A glowing blue arc tears from his sword, striking Lan Qiren and the cultivators, sending them flying into the rocky steps, the trees, the stone path and stairs. The sound of bone breaking, of groans—

Xue Yang grabs Lan Xichen’s arm and flies off with him through the gate, setting down and landing a few times, finally settling down in the middle of the trees blanketing the mountainside, far off the path, where the rush of a small waterfall masks their voices.

The sound of breaking bone is still echoing in Lan Xichen’s ears.

“Put these on.” A white-and-gray robe is draped over his arm. “They might be a little small, but ordinary people don’t have private tailors, so it will help our story.”

Lan Xichen just stands there, staring blankly.

Xue Yang sighs and shoots him a keen look. “Worried about whether or not you killed anyone?”

“I—I—I need to go back and—check—”

“Don’t bother. I saw everything, and nobody died. Just some broken bones. Get changed.”

“White is too conspicuous,” he hears himself saying. He’s too numb—no, not numb—what is that feeling? Euphoric? Could you be both numb and euphoric?—to offer more than that.

“I thought you could travel as a priest. People help priests. I’ll be your cultivator companion. Protecting you, as it were.”

“Why white?”

Xue Yang purses his lip, then shrugs. “I thought you’d agree more readily to white…”

Lan Xichen reaches for the robes, but Xue Yang pulls away suddenly as if unwilling to let him touch them.

“You’re right. Here. I have backups.” Xue Yang hurriedly tucks the white robes away and unrolls a new set of clothes, exhibiting them to Lan Xichen as if he’s a silk merchant unrolling a bolt of expensive material for a prospective customer.

Peasant clothes.

Xue Yang watches him closely in the dusky pre-dawn light, drawing more amusement from Lan Xichen’s reaction to the clothes than Lan Xichen thinks he, Lan Xichen, has ever taken in anything in his own life.

“Don’t worry, Zewu-jun would look good in anything.” Xue Yang, who appears particularly giddy tonight, winks at him exaggeratedly, and Lan Xichen finds himself smiling despite himself at how utterly ridiculous, how utterly crazy, how absurdly out-of-control everything is.

He’d attacked his uncle, hurt the man who raised him, flung his own people into the mountain hard enough to shatter bone, and all he feels is weightless.

And sick. But mostly weightless.

Wangji attacked and badly wounded thirty-three clan elders, he reminds himself, and now he’s the Chief Cultivator.

Meaning: there is still a way back.

If I want to take it.

He reaches for the clothes.

Normally dressing is something he lingers over—used to, anyway—but there’s nothing to linger over here. A pair of grayish homespun trousers, an undyed tunic, and that’s it. It feels odd to have the shape of his legs showing, and he tugs almost self-consciously at the short hem of his tunic.

“Glad you appreciate them.” Xue Yang has already changed into his own peasant clothes. All-black, with a longer tunic and simple black strip of cloth binding his hair. He sits on a rock, munching on a bag of candied peanuts from his bottomless qiankun sleeve. “If you think it was easy to find peasant clothes to fit someone your height, think again.”

“Couldn’t we travel as merchants?”

“Where’s the fun in that? All right, then, my friend. Off with that murder weapon atop your head, and smooth your hair into a simple knot. Three bumps in front, a knot, the rest down like this—”

Lan Xichen stows his silver hairpiece in his qiankun pouch with the rest of his belongings. “Shall we start?”

“Two tendrils of hair down in front like mine, to better hide your face—It’s too bad we can’t shave a bit of bone off that chin of yours, but I’d never recognize you like this. Although—”

He reaches out, takes hold of the two elbow-length tendrils, and cuts them so they fall no farther than his throat.

“Better.” He raises an eyebrow at the silent Lan Xichen and sits back down with his peanuts. “Not going to say anything?”

“What good would it do? The hair is already cut.”

Another grin. “You’re passive. I like that in a man.”

Lan Xichen winces. “Please stop with those comments.”

Xue Yang rolls his eyes. “It’s just a joke.”

“I don’t like it.”

“Look who’s standing up for himself! Well, let’s see how you do on this, then: headband off. Complete the transformation from butterfly into caterpillar.”

“I beg your pardon?”

Xue Yang tosses a nut in the air, catches it in his mouth. “I thought you Lan liked poetry and stuff. Headband. Off.”

“I—” Lan Xichen feels an odd tingly sensation in his hands, his lips. A sudden coldness runs up and down his legs. “I can’t.”

“I’ll do it, then.”

“No!” Lan Xichen steps back.

He knows Xue Yang is right. The Lan would be after them, and with the Lan Family headband on, he may as well be wearing an “I Am Zewu-jun” sign on his chest with an “If Found, Return To Cloud Recesses” sign on his back.

But—

“Much as I’d love to sit here and watch you wrestle with thirty-odd years of indoctrination, we don’t have all day.” Xue Yang tucks his bag of nuts away. “We need to shake a leg before the Lan gets their act together.”

With trembling hands Lan Xichen reaches behind his head.

And stops.

Xue Yang coughs.

Lan Xichen unties the headband. Cups it in his palm. The silver ornament is so cold against his skin it almost burns. The blue silk ribbon is fragile, almost translucent, where it never was before.

“Zewu-jun?”

Lan Xichen swallows hard, tucks it away in his pouch, and follows Xue Yang down the mountain.

* * * * *

By “Leave it to me,” Xue Yang had evidently meant “Watch me ferret out the dodgiest inns in any given town we’re in or rough it outside.”

Out of necessity, he claims, but that doesn’t explain why he’d already had the peasant clothes prepared as a so-called backup before Lan Xichen attacked Lan Qiren. Xue Yang thrives in these awful places, seems far more at home than he ever did in the refined Cloud Recesses.

“Less pretention,” he replies when Lan Xichen mentions it one day. “These people are angry at someone, they hit them. Something is funny, they laugh. No two-faced hypocrites talking out of both sides of their mouths.”

Lan Xichen doesn’t quite see that, but then again he keeps mostly to himself while Xue Yang enjoys getting into conversations with whomever happens to be around them at the time.

“I’m surprised I haven’t heard any gossip about a runaway clan leader who went berserk,” Xue Yang says one evening.

“You didn’t hear about my brother wounding thirty-three clan elders either, did you.” He knows he shouldn’t have said that, but it’s hard to filter himself after having decided the filter doesn’t matter anymore.

Delighted, Xue Yang looks up from where he’s spreading a blanket out over the grass, his bed for the night. “When did that happen?”

“Thirteen years ago.”

“Really? The ice king? Fuck, I might actually like him now.” Xue Yang produces Jiangzai in a shower of orange sparks, lays it out beside him on the blanket, Shuanghua nestled up under his arm. “I’ve been everywhere, and I never heard a word. What do the Lan do to stop them from gossiping, cut out their disciples’ tongues?”

“It’s called ethics, my friend.”

Xue Yang grins, stretching himself like a cat. “Says the man who just called me— me —a friend.”

Lan Xichen laughs. “My options are few.”

The inns, when they can find them, are smelly, the food barely palatable, but Lan Xichen enjoys the time between, the long stretches of travel through the countryside where he can just be Huan the Peasant. Prior to setting off, it had been a long, long time since he’d been anything other than well-fed and well-taken care of, numbed into a haze by luxury, and now he feels oddly awake.

The earth is firm beneath his feet as they walk. Stable. Sturdy. Cloud Recesses is a hazy blur, a fading dream. The world around him is real, the trees and birds and sunshine, the loud, smelly people, the leaky inn ceilings, the rocky mountain paths and drenching rains and cool breezes of approaching autumn.

He’s stopped dreaming of flying.

“What did you do during the Sunshot Campaign?” Xue Yang asks him as he stares down into a cup of what was certainly not Dragon Well tea, no matter what the innkeeper claimed. They’ve been on the road almost three weeks, and, as they don’t dare stop at any respectable tea house, this is still the closest he’s gotten to decent tea. “Did they cart luxury tents out into warzones for use by the gentry?”

“I don’t mind this. Truly—”

A crash. The busboy has dropped a tray. Lan Xichen turns away as the innkeeper turns on the busboy, backhanding him into a wall hard enough to leave a mark.

“You keep making faces at the tea.”

Lan Xichen had been wincing at the sight of the abuse, but he doesn’t want to dwell on that. Best not to dwell on the uglier side of life, especially now. He’s seen shocking things these past several weeks, things he didn’t realize existed in his territories, but best not think about that. Doubly so now that everything feels far too real. “Something about this particular inn reminds me of…the past.”

Not just this in. Every inn. The rooms A-Yao had rented during their time living together had been in sticky little inns just like all the sticky little inns they’ve stopped in.

Painful memories, for the last year. But now he lies awake at night intentionally recalling his time living with A-Yao in their cramped little garrets. And for the first time in sixteen years, he doesn’t veer away from the memory of the grief and uncertainty of that time, the unrelieved dread.

He stares up at the ceiling in bed that night. The room is small, barely enough room for the two straw-stuffed mattresses crammed inside. Xue Yang lies facing Lan Xichen, holding Shuanghua to his chest, his maskless, disarmingly young face pressed to the sheeny white hilt so tightly that the patterned grip has left marks on his cheek.

At least he’s not sitting up murmuring to the spirit-trapping pouch again, as he tends to do when he thinks Lan Xichen has fallen asleep first. Lan Xichen needs complete silence to sleep, and Xue Yang’s nocturnal mumblings have been a trial. As have been the times he’s woken up to find Xue Yang staring at him.

He doesn’t hold it against him. The rooms have been small. Not many other places to stare if not at the person lying directly across from you.

Jiangzai lies on the floor between them, its elegantly brutal blade gleaming dully in the faint light from the window. It’s set at an angle, resting against Xue Yang’s straw mattress, giving Lan Xichen a glimpse of his reflection in the highly-polished metal.

A stranger gazes back at him. By Xue Yang’s suggestion, he’s been growing a beard and moustache to hide his distinctive chin and jaw. They work surprisingly well, he thinks. His hair is still bound in an unadorned knot on top of his head, face framed by the foreign half-bangs that keep getting in his eyes.

He stares at himself for a long time.

He can get used to this. To being an entirely new person.

Except Qinghe is only days away, and with it everything he’d just escaped. The Jin’s social structure is the most elaborate of the four main clans, but it’s hedonistic and the Family is free to indulge itself as it wishes. But the Nie Clan—they’re rigid like the Lan, unyielding like the Lan, obstinate, uncompromising, and self-righteous.

The fact that someone like Nie Huaisang is in charge would make him dread it less, had it not been for the fact that Nie Huaisang had engineered A-Yao’s death in cold blood and then lied to his face about it.

“Do you think my uncle has cultivators waiting for us in Qinghe?” he asks Xue Yang in the morning.

It’s a thought that has never been far from his mind, but somehow avoiding Lan cultivators on the road had seemed more important.

Xue Yang looks up from where he’s fixing his hair. He’s unexpectedly fussy about his admittedly glorious hair, though he never does more than wind it into a simple knot, leaving the rest free. Lan Xichen would never offer to help him arrange it, of course, but he gets the idea that Xue Yang wouldn’t allow anyone to touch it anyway.

Xue Yang shrugs. “They wouldn’t dare grab you against your will, not in front of the Nie.”

"True. And I doubt he would trust Nie Huaisang with the truth of what happened. But still...”

Lan Xichen lingers by the front door as Xue Yang settles their bill with the innkeeper. Normally they’d have to pay up-front in a low-class place like this, but Xue Yang had been the one to handle the preliminaries, as usual, while Lan Xichen had gone up to the room, and he’d told Lan Xichen that he’d worked something out with the innkeeper.

He watches as Xue Yang yanks the innkeeper’s head down, cracking a cheekbone on a table, and pats the man’s face with his knife, slicing half his long droopy moustache off with the razor-sharp blade.

Oh. So that was what he meant by “worked it out.” Has he been doing this in every inn? Lan Xichen has plenty of money. Is this kind of thing fun for him?

Tremendously, going by the look on his face.

Lan Xichen steps outside. The busboy is sweeping the front stairs, his face a mass of bruises. Lan Xichen passes him a piece of silver.

“For you,” he says. “Not your master.”

“ Passive ,” Xue Yang had called him. Well, here he was, doing something.

It felt nice. Not just the act of charity. He’s done plenty of charity in the past. The doing.

“What good is that going to do?” Xue Yang asks as they walk down the street. “You should have just killed the innkeeper, if you wanted to help the boy and not just make yourself feel better.”

“Just…killed him?”

“Why not? You’re stronger than him.” He looks almost angry for some reason. “You’re as bad as he ever was.”

“He—”

“Not the innk—forget it.”

“Robbing the inkeeper was enough.”

“It’s not like he was a good person,” says Xue Yang, as if the delinquent cultivator even knew the definition of the term. “Aren’t the Lan preoccupied with justice and all that?”

“I agree that his treatment of the boy is wrong, but he broke no law.”

There’s a surprising amount of bitterness in Xue Yang’s voice. “And laws are always right and breaking them is always wrong?”

“No, I’m not saying that, but without general rule of law, society would break down.”

“Because it’s been doing so well with rule of law.”

Lan Xichen doesn’t respond. He’d prefer not to think about how much he does, in fact, agree with the man beside him, despite knowing he shouldn’t.

Xue Yang’s lip curls, and he looks down at his left hand. It’s still bound with bandages, but they’re fitted around his palms, leaving all fingers but the little one exposed. Ready to grasp a sword hilt if needed. “He deserved disembowelment, if you ask me, but I figured we don’t need more people on our tail.”

Lan Xichen glances over his shoulder. They’ve spotted many Lan cultivators over the past several weeks, with a few narrow escapes before his beard came in. “So you didn’t kill him.” He feels a sense of relief. The world had been feeling too sharp and real since they’d left Gusu for that to be something to hand-wave away as he might have when everything was fogged and hazy and dreamlike.

“Of course I didn’t kill him.” Xue Yang gives a little cough, tapping his teeth with the tip of his knife. “Not even a little.”

“So—”

“Ah, here’s the gate. Any money for the exit toll?”

They keep their heads down as they pass through the gate. Two Lan cultivators are nearby, watching the crowd.

“If your people had more brains than a dumpling, they wouldn’t strut around in those white getups,” Xue Yang says. “You were right about white being conspicuous. They stick out like pigs in a henhouse.”

“ ‘Rule 819: Only the cowardly conceal themselves.’ Rule 820: Walk with candidness and sincerity. Rule 821: Do not carry concealed weapons.’ ”

Xue Yang laughs at that one. “Should I just whip out Jiangzai, then?”

Normally, Lan Xichen would laugh too—he’s been laughing more these past weeks—but he just shakes his head as if Xue Yang had actually meant it seriously. Qinghe’s mountains aren’t as lush as Cloud Recesses’, and the grim, rocky terrain is weighing on his already low spirits, and the gritty light of the overcast afternoon only makes things worse.

Lan Xichen shaves in the town nearest to the Unclean Realm after a frugal supper at an inn.

The inn is almost empty. He risks returning to the main room after Xue Yang, who sits drinking sweet white wine and staring at the table.

Xue Yang looks up. “Back to your old self, I see. I thought you were going to meditate?”

Lan Xichen shakes his head slightly. He hasn’t been able to shake himself of his habit of morning and evening meditations, vastly shortened as his sessions are. The one sense of structure in his newly untethered existence. It’s been a way to avoid negative thoughts, but now—

“We’re too close,” he says.

Xue Yang runs a finger around the rim of the wine jar. He’s not drunk, but there’s a melancholy air about him that Lan Xichen has never sensed before. “Would you like a drink?”

“No, thank you.”

“Suit yourself…Have you given any thought about what you’re going to do if we fail?

“I…no.”

Xue Yang holds up his cup, examining the chipped ceramic in the dim candlelight, teeth slightly bared. “There’s always a chance. A chance your friend will remain trapped in that coffin. Spirit tormented for an eternity, forever remembering how he ended up in that coffin—”

Lan Xichen reaches for the wine jar.

The rest of the night is a blur. Suddenly Xue Yang is helping him up the stairs to their room, the smallest room yet. Two small straw mattresses with no space between them, filling up all available floor space.

Xue Yang lays him out flat on his bed and kneels facing him on his own mattress, something odd in his eyes. Reaches inside his tunic, pulls out a long strip of white cloth from the left side.

“Here,” he says. “Why don’t you put this on so you can sleep better? I know you’re sensitive to light, and it’s too bright in here, isn’t it?”

Normally Lan Xichen would suggest simply closing the window, shutting out the moonlight, but his alcohol-fogged brain doesn’t even consider it.

“And you can use these as a blanket,” Xue Yang adds, producing the gray-and-white robes he had shown him back in Gusu and spreading them out over Lan Xichen. His hands are trembling slightly. “They’re thin, but better than nothing. I know you still aren’t used to the chill.”

Lan Xichen blinks at him with bleary gratitude. “Thank you, my friend.”

Xue Yang reaches around Lan Xichen’s head, ties the strip of white cloth over his eyes, and lies down beside him. There’s little room between them on the narrow straw pallets, and the last thing Lan Xichen feels before he drifts off to sleep is the whisper of Xue Yang’s breath on his neck.

* * * *

Lan Xichen sleeps late the next morning, finally woken by the feel of something sliding off his face, around his head. He sits up. Xue Yang is holding a long strip of white material in his hand—one of his bandages?

He massages his aching temples. “What happened last night?”

Xue Yang’s eyes are red, as if he hadn’t slept at all last night. He smiles at Lan Xichen, but it’s not a happy smile. “You had a bit too much to drink, my friend. Now, let’s get moving. We want to reach the Unclean Realm before nightfall.”

Lan Xichen changes into his old clothes outside the town. Blue and white. Hair half-up. Back straight.

He avoids looking in the mirrored blades of their swords.

“Don’t forget the headband.”

Lan Xichen stares down at the strip of silk and silver in his palm. It’s heavier than he remembers.

Xue Yang idly tosses his knife in the air, catching it after its sixth rotation. “Hand cramp?”

Lan Xichen ties on the forehead ribbon.

* * * * *

Up Next: Nie Huaisang is (almost) utterly useless.

Or: The Nie chamberlain’s very bad, no-good day. Also some tomb robbing, if that floats your boat.

Chapter 5

#Lan Xichen + Xue Yang road trip!#Or: An innkeeper may or may not meet an untimely end depending on your interpretation of “Of course I didn’t kill him. Not even a little.”#Fractured Ice #Lan Xichen #Xue Yang #mdzs fanfiction #the untamed fanfic #mdzs #the untamed #cw blood #cw violence #tw violence #tw blood #xuexiao #xiyao

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olliepig · 4 years ago

Text

Waiting in the Wings chapter 8

Written in conjunction with @willow-salix, our girls got together and wanted a chat...

As ever, it can also be read on AO3 here.

*****************************

The house seemed to vibrate as Cat arrived in the lounge, Thunderbird One streaking past into the sky just as the low rumble of Two’s engines signaled the simultaneous departure of the green behemoth. With Gordon busy doing his physio with Grandma and Kayo already away, that left just one other occupant of the island, who currently seemed engrossed in her work, oblivious to everything else.

Cat lingered at the entrance, watching the crafts disappear into tiny specks in the distance as she held back from disturbing Selene. The idea of speaking to anyone about the questions and doubts in her head terrified her but she at least had enough self awareness to know that she had to get an outside perspective on them before she risked doing anything that could hurt either Scott or herself.

There was something about the young woman in front of her that invited her confidence, even if she wasn’t necessarily aware of it. From what she’d seen over the past few days, she was open and forthright and instinct told Cat that she was the one that she needed to speak to right now. The fact that they were now alone and unlikely to be disturbed was just good fortune.

“Selene? Can I ask you something?” she asked tentatively, not moving from her position, wanting to keep an escape route available in case it was needed. “What’s it really like living here and being involved in all of this?”

Selene didn't look up from the mound of paperwork, lists and notebooks that surrounded her, things she had to bring with her from her home office every time she needed to work. "Hell, it's utter hell."

A choked noise from the doorway made her glance up. "Oh, sorry, you didn't mean this," she gestured to the mess on her lap, "did you? You meant this," she waved a hand indicating the villa around them. She paused for a second to think. "It's different, you know? But not a bad kind of different. But then I've been dealing with these idiots for two years so I think I'm pretty much immune to everything now."

“It’s certainly different, that’s for sure,” Cat laughed, relieved that her companion seemed receptive to a conversation, crossing the room and flopping down on the sofa as she watched the icons tracking the ‘birds across the Pacific. “It’s not like anything I’ve ever experienced before. I just… I don’t know if I could ever get used to it.”

"Oh, believe me, you could. It's not something you think about or really get a choice with, you just kinda get sucked in.” Selene gathered up all her mess and piled it up on the table beside her, although there was little care taken to making it neat. “I'll let you into a secret, I'd never even heard of them before I met John, I just googled for help and my phone put me through to this silky voiced god that plucked me out of a tree. So I guess, even though it was all wildly different to what I was used to, it was also pretty normal, because it was normal for them. Just like with any other family they have their rituals and in things that they do and meeting them was a lot easier than my ex's family, I have to say." She didn’t even want to think about what her life would be like if she hadn't met John, although it probably wouldn't have continued much longer as she would have died falling head first out of that tree.

“Yeah, they’ve made everything really easy for me too this week, that’s for sure. I guess I’m just finding it weird getting to know Scott all over again,” Cat sighed, trying to find the words to explain how she was feeling. “When I first knew him, he was this young captain in the air force and, yeah, he had all the responsibilities that went with that, but this is something else altogether. I don’t know how any of them do it. And he’s changed so much, it’s like meeting someone completely new but who looks just like someone you used to know,” she paused, sitting forward and dropping her head into her hands, rubbing her face as she sighed and looked back up. “I’m babbling now I suspect, I’m just really confused.”

"It's totally understandable though, I'm sure you've changed too.” Selene had been waiting for this conversation, or at least a chance to talk to Cat in private. From what she had seen of the woman she thought she was lovely, but she was finding it hard to open up to her completely. Scott was her priority, not making his friend feel better and, although Selene respected the heck out of her for having the guts to actually talk to her, she wasn’t going to take it easy. She was going to be completely honest and to the point as she always was. “If I can be honest with you, personally I think you're thinking of this the wrong way."

“You’re right about that,” Cat mused, sitting back and making herself more comfortable as she settled in for the conversation, “I've definitely changed and grown since then and from what I've seen since we met again, so has he. But how do you think I should be looking at it?” she asked, keen to see if a change in perspective might be the key to understanding her reluctance to let Scott into her life fully again.

"Don't think of it as noticing everything about him that's changed, think of it as discovering new things about him.” Selene turned in her seat to face the other woman, leaning back against the couch. “Admit it, we're girls, we love that first flush of 'woah, he's hot' but then you get to spend time with them, getting to know everything about them, learning what makes them tick, learning how they like their coffee and what makes them smile. With Scott you get to experience that giddy rush of feelings and hormones all over again. And don't you dare tell me you aren't, because it's written all over both of your faces. I see that look in the mirror, I know that look, I wear that look."

Cat smiled guiltily, feeling like a teenager being caught doing something she shouldn't by her teacher, before dropping her head and sighing. “I know. It feels amazing but I just don’t know if I can do it. I don’t want to hurt him by saying I want to and then changing my mind if it’s too hard. I saw how scared Penny was after Gordon was hurt, and she could be here to see him. I’m so far away and I can’t just leave my job any time I need to. How do you manage when they’re on rescues? Do you get scared for them?” Cat asked, desperate to know that she wasn’t alone in having felt alone and terrified whenever she knew Scott was on a rescue, well aware that now she knew them all, her worries would be increased fivefold.

"Of course I do, I wouldn't be human if I didn't. They’re my family, I love each and every one of them with all of my heart, not just John. You don't take on just one Tracy, they are a package deal. But let me ask you this, have you ever done the long distance relationship thing before? Because I did when I was younger, and yeah, it kinda sucks, but this is no different, if you want it you make it work. I had to travel on a train for two hours to get to see him, I had studying I couldn't get out of, I had work I couldn't just drop without getting fired and so did he. But that's the same for everyone. You could be walking down the street and get hit by a bus, accidents happen and you'd be just as far away or just as stuck with someone else. They’re the ones with the fancy flying machines, they can come to us. I live in London too and we make it work, two hours in a Thunderbird, four hours in my car, or half an hour in a bean can on a string and here I am. You make it work if it's important to you and if you want it to work." She felt her phone buzz against her butt but she ignored it, it wouldn’t be anyone important, if it was John or one of the family they would use the comms, anyone or anything else could wait. The woman in front of her was obviously dealing with some shit, going through some kind of crisis and Selene would do everything she could to help. She could feel the indecision and worry rolling off Cat in waves and, when she squinted, Selene could see that her aura was pulled in tight to her body, a clear sign that she was exercising a lot of self control, trying to hide her emotions behind tight mental walls.

“I think the distance is half the problem, to be honest. Scott and I were great for a year when we were together before, but then we had to do the long distance thing after he deployed and I moved to London and he broke up with me after a couple of weeks. Circumstances were very different then, but it absolutely broke me and I guess I’m scared of getting hurt again if it gets tough and history repeats itself,” Cat explained, trying to give Selene a bit more context to her fears and prove that she wasn’t completely irrational and mad, but somehow almost hoping that she was as that would make her life a lot easier. “Since then, I’ve avoided anything long distance. I’m mostly working so I don’t have a lot of time to spare and with the added travel, I just think it would be impossible, although...” she tailed off, working through her thoughts and allowing the counter argument to form before Selene could beat her to it, “I guess Scott’s been over a couple of times to see me now, so maybe I’m jumping to conclusions there. I think I’m probably making it more complicated than it really is. I don’t want either of us to get hurt again, that’s what it really comes down to, but I know no relationship comes without risk. It’s just a case of working out if the risk is worth it.”

Selene listened carefully, sipping on her coffee and staring into its depths like it was a crystal ball, debating how wise it would be for her to actually say what was on her mind. Meh, fuck it, she thought with a mental shrug, go big or go home. She believed in being honest, even if people didn’t want to hear it. She wouldn't be deliberately mean, but she wasn’t about to pussy foot around. Cat seemed like a lovely person, but she was still very much a stranger to her and in that respect Scott was the only one she cared about.

"Scott's my best friend but I know he can be a complete dickhead some days, he's far too impetuous, he's constantly thinking he's doing the best for someone without asking them if it's what they want," she paused when she saw Cat nod, indicating that she knew all about that one," but he does it because he's one of the most honourable men I've ever met. And I don't want him getting hurt." Selene picked up a pen to fiddle with, clicking the lid on and off , distracting herself as she chose her next words as carefully as possible.

"Here's the thing, and I'm gonna level with you, I know he's made decisions for you in the past, I know he broke up with you, but he probably thought it was the best even if he was a misguided jackass. But I also know that that was probably what pissed you off the most, the fact that he didn't give you a chance to make up your own mind. Do you really want to do the same to him with this? Are you gonna play those petty games? Because if that's all he is to you, if you're just toying with him because he's a Tracy, you had better change your attitude right now and do the right thing, because you do not want to be looking over your shoulder every day in case I'm there." She sat back, put down the pen and picked up her coffee again, daring Cat to argue her statement, in fact, she badly wanted her to argue, she wanted to be proved wrong, if only for Scott’s sake. One eyebrow lifted in challenge, taunting her to talk.

“That’s absolutely not what I’m doing,” Cat exclaimed, standing and stalking around the table as a surge of anger flared through her at Selene’s suggestion, spinning around to face her before she continued. “I genuinely couldn’t give a flying fuck who he is or what he does for a living. I adore that man. I always have. And I suspect I always will.”

Cat stopped and sat back down abruptly, her legs giving out and refusing to hold her any longer as she realised how obvious her true feelings for him were now that she had been pushed to admit them. Sensing that Selene was sitting quietly, waiting for her to continue, she looked up at her, digging deep and opening up fully to someone for the first time in years, knowing that if she didn’t, it would render this conversation pointless.

“He just let me down so badly, that’s all, and I don’t know if it’s something I can get past. I’ve always had to fend for myself, right from when I was little. My dad left and my mum didn’t care about me so all I really had was my dance teacher until I got into ballet school and Penny and Parker sort of adopted me. Scott was the first person aside from them that I let close enough to me to see me for who I really was and he made me feel like I was worth something. So you’re right, the fact that I didn’t get to make my own mind up about what happened really hurt me because he knew how I felt about being just cast aside like that. But don’t for a second think I’m toying with him or going to mess him about. That’s absolutely not why I’m here.” Cat paused, allowing the emotions stirred up by her answer to pass and taking a deep breath before continuing. “I don’t want to do the same thing to him as he did to me. That’s not fair. I didn’t like it and I always try to treat others how I’d like to be treated myself. I guess I need to speak to him really…”

Selene sat and watched as Cat talked, watched her aura, watched her for any sign of falsehood. She'd found that the quickest way to get the truth out of someone was through anger, that was when you forgot to pick your words carefully, you forgot to modify your tone or body language and you opened up fully to the emotions you had inside. Cat had reacted the same way Selene herself had reacted when Scott had given her his version of the question she'd just thrown at Cat. Now that she had a better understanding of how Cat's mind was working. Selene relaxed a little, although she didn't back off with the home truths she continued to toss her way.

"Yeah, you do. You both need to talk, because right now you're both being idiots. I mean, I'm all for a little kinky fuckery now and then, pretend to be strangers, meet in a bar, up against a wall, chill, you do you boo, you're adults, who cares how you get your kicks. Or if this is all one elaborate and very long winded version of foreplay, good for you, just don't break his heart, he's had enough of that. He might look tough but he's a squishy teddy bear under those flight blues and I won't have him hurt because you two can't get your shit together. So, while we're alone, just be fucking honest with me, ask all the questions you need to ask to go into this with your eyes open and make sure he knows where he stands." She opened a tube of cookies and offered Cat one, ignoring the shocked look on the other woman's face. "Cookie?"

“Thanks.” Cat moved back to sit next to Selene and accepted the cookie gratefully, feeling shaky as the adrenaline from her anger started to wear off. “Trust me, I have no intention of hurting him. Ever. I don’t go after people just for the sake of it, and especially not someone I care about as much as him. He deserves the best and I’m so glad he’s got someone as fierce as you looking out for him. I get the impression that he needs it sometimes. I need to speak to him first and make sure we’re on the same page with everything, but if you’re still willing to answer questions after that, can I get back to you then?”

"Girl, I'm always willing to answer questions, hell I'm always willing to talk for any reason. You'll learn that about me," she sighed, dunking the cookie into her coffee and taking a quick bite before it got too soggy and broke off. "Honestly, I don't know how John puts up with me most days, he probably wishes he'd left me in that tree."

“Actually, I do have one question for you just now, before the boys get there and it gets noisy in here again,” Cat asked, taking the opportunity to snuggle back into the sofa and make herself comfortable, glad that the intensity of their conversation seemed to have dropped. “What exactly were you doing in a tree?”

"Meeting the love of my life, what else do you do in a tree when you fall off your broom trying to avoid an owl? I’m a witch, nothing in my life is ever normal so I guess it stands to reason that I wouldn't meet him in the standard way, not that I ever would have otherwise, it’s not like he frequents bars and restaurants on the daily,” she sighed softly, aware that she probably had a slightly soppy smile on her face as she pictured her man, but she quickly shook it off, this wasn’t about them. “Don't hold out on me now. I know there's more to the story of you two than just ‘we met in a bar’."

“Fair enough. That’s as good a reason as any for being there,” Cat nodded in agreement with a slight shrug as she finished off the last of her cookie, before a smile crept onto her face at the thought of her first time meeting Scott. “You’re right about there being more to the story than that, but don’t let this go beyond us. Gordon knows and Scott’s managed to keep him quiet about it so far but I don’t want it to get out on my watch. We did meet in a bar, that much is true. What I didn’t tell everyone was that Scott was wearing a very fetching pair of patent leather, red thigh high boots at the time,” Cat paused as Selene laughed so hard coffee came out her nose, handing her a napkin to clear up the worst of the mess. “It was a dare from some of the guys in the squadron apparently, but he definitely looked very fetching in them. He’s got the legs for it, for sure.”

"Oh lawd, those boots, I think I saw them in a cupboard once but I assumed they were Grandma's from back in the day. Once the others hear about this, and no it won't be from me, but they will find out, believe me they always do, John won't have the weirdest story to tell. Marrying a witch will be tame in comparison to tottering around in go-go boots."

“Oh I don’t doubt for a second that it’ll get out,” Cat laughed, reaching for another cookie. “Gordon’s silence has been bought for now but if what Penny’s told me about him is true, he won’t be able to keep it to himself indefinitely. I’m amazed it’s stayed between them for this long if I'm honest.”

"So am I. Not much stays secret in this house, least of all with Gordon around, but really, he's not the one you need to watch out for."

“I’m guessing that would be John?” Cat ventured. “Scott warned me before I got here not to do anything horribly embarrassing because it would inevitably be seen by him and I’d never be allowed to forget it.”

"It's most definitely John, it's his job after all. He just likes to make sure that everyone is looked after and can get help whenever they need it. Obviously the Island is cloaked and they need to know when anyone comes too close, so really it's not surprising that he sees things he probably wishes he doesn't. Though I'll let you into a secret, if you see me lightly stroking my boobs, or playing with my hair, I'm not being weird, I'm just trying to annoy him because he's not here and he sent me a hand selfie earlier in the day."

“Well that’s definitely good to know, and at least I’ll not look at you as if you’re completely insane next time I see you doing it,” Cat chuckled as she turned her attention to the icons in front of her. “Looks like the boys are nearly there now. Thanks for this, Selene. You’ve really helped me this afternoon and it really means a lot. I’ll talk to Scott as soon as I can so we can sort this out before either of us get hurt, I promise.”

"No worries, that's what I'm here for. I'm the ground crew. I know what it's like to sit here and worry about them. When I first met John I didn't even realise just how much they did for the world or how much of a risk they took on a daily basis, and I sat at home and watched for months while I was getting to know him, just watching and waiting every time something was shown on the news, I was just dreading hearing something go wrong. And then something did but it was his own dumbass stubbornness, and I realised I wasn't actually a part of their lives. I could have stayed that way, on the outskirts, but I chose to dive in, because I loved him, even then, even when I hadn't admitted it to myself let alone said it out loud. It was harder to not know than it was to have it in my face, if you get what I mean. So, in future, if you need to know anything, or if you get worried, text me, call me, whatever, day or night. I'll be here. Just as long as you have nothing to hide, because Kayo is a bit of a stickler for making sure you pass all her security checks. I had to threaten Gordon over social media to get here so you're already doing better than I was." Selene finished her coffee, stretching over to place her mug on the table.

“Yeah, I’ve been sitting worrying about them all for months now. It’s been so hard seeing some disaster on the news and knowing they’ll be there but having no way of finding out if they’re OK til they were home and I got a message from Scott. So thank you. Again. I may well take you up on that offer in the future, especially if things go the way I hope they do. Knowing that there’s someone else who’s gone through the same sort of thing when they came into the family is a weird sort of comfort so I’d be very happy if we could be friends?” Cat smiled tentatively as she looked at the other woman, a slight tremor in her hands as she clasped them together tightly the only outward sign of her discomfort and nerves.

"I'm friends with everyone, it's both a blessing and a curse and I’m pretty sure John hates that particular gift of mine. I'm the type of person that can start chatting to anyone anywhere and he is the type to just want to hide or possibly fade into a wall. But in this case, I think it's a good thing."

“Me too,” Cat smiled, allowing herself to breathe again, unsure now as to why she thought the answer might be any different. “I don’t always make friends easily but when I do they’re stuck with me so I hope you’re prepared for that.”

"Meh, I think I can handle that, as long as you can handle the fact that I'm extremely blunt, Virgil said I'm more blunt than that boulder he took to the head last week, and I'm always honest. Oh, I'm also loud, opinionated, slightly mad and I can't sing, but otherwise I'm great. Top quality witch, would buy again."

“Sounds like an awesome sort of friend to me to me,” Cat laughed, finally relaxing enough to unclasp her hands, reaching up to try and release the tension that had built up in her shoulder. “I’ll take that on if you also don’t mind my bloody minded determination to finish everything I’ve ever started, chronic foot pain and propensity to stretch whenever I get a cramp, regardless of where we are and how many people are watching us.

"You do that too? John walked into the kitchen at 2am to find me in the downward dog, or as he calls it 'ass up' and I don't think he quite knew what to do with me. I think he was caught between respecting my yoga moods enough to leave me alone and the possibility that things could get naked."

Cat snorted with laughter, Selene’s openness taking her by surprise somehow. “Well, it’s reassuring to know that all guys are the same. Scott’s eyes used to pop out his head at some of the stretches I used to do but he never knew what to say, bless him, so he’d just stand there with his mouth open. To be honest,” she added, leaning in slightly and lowering her voice conspiratorially despite them being the only two in the room, “I used to hear him coming and start stretching just to make him do it.”

Selene sniggered evilly. "Been there myself. I just so happened to have gotten out of the shower at that precise moment in time. I've never known John to get down to earth so quickly."

“Nice. I think Scott would have had a stroke if I’d done that. I might have to try it sometime though…” she tailed off, a flush creeping over her as she realised she was already speaking as if his response to the conversation they needed to have was a foregone conclusion.

"Well, I guess if he has a stroke it saves you a job."

“That’s one way of looking at it I guess… Not as fun, mind you,” Cat grinned, enjoying having someone to talk like this with. “Slightly different sort of stroke though,” she added, hedging her bets in case she’d totally misunderstood what Selene was getting at.

"I'm sorry, you'll get used to me,” Selene laughed, having to pause for a second and catch her breath before she sobered enough to continue. “But, being serious for a minute, I know, hard to imagine with me, but just make sure Scott knows exactly what it is between you two, don't leave him guessing, he hates that. Just let him know where he stands. There's nothing wrong with friends with benefits, just as long as each friend knows the score."

“I’ll make sure we’re both on the same page, don’t you worry. I think we’ve had enough misunderstandings to last us a lifetime, I don’t want any more,” Cat replied earnestly.

"Good, that's what I like to hear, I'd hate to have to get involved, I really can't be bothered and I don't have the time, I've got a million natal charts to do, six tarot readings and a rune making workshop to plan for." She glanced at the comm screen, checking the time and winced."Talking of readings, I gotta vanish for an hour, I've got a client call, but I'm drafting you in to help me cook dinner in two hours because they'll be hungry and after saving lives the least we can do is save them from Grandma's cooking."

“It’s a deal,” Cat agreed, leaning forward and picking up the book she’d discarded on the table earlier that morning. ”I think I’ll hang out here and listen in while I read this. Just come and give me a nudge when you need me and I’m all yours.”

“Good deal, I’ll see you in a bit.” She gathered up her scattered books and papers, departing with a cheery wave as she headed to John’s room.

Cat flopped back on the sofa, her book almost instantly forgotten as her mind whirled with the implications that her true feelings could have and what that might mean for both her and Scott. Now all she had to do was find the right moment to talk to him.

#thunderbirds 2015 #thunderbirds fanfiction #thunderbirds are go #selene tempest

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el-pintor · 5 years ago

Text

Thoughts about the Christmas special

This will be a long, long, long post...

First, I write about ZhanYi and then about Tianshan.

ZhanYi:

Jian Yi's comment about his strength:

— Jian Yi mentions that he is so strong that he could pull trees out. This is pretty interesting information. Because this could indicate the time during the kidnapping, depending on how seriously you can interpret the statements. Did he continue to train or drill? Is it the result of training with He Cheng?

- In addition, this drunk talking could also refer to earlier chapters. Jian Yi has a desire to become stronger because he felt helpless against Mo. Incidentally, it is the first appearance of Mo.

The apartment:

— Whose apartment is this? Probably Zhen Xis, since Jian Yi is only at Xi's apartment in the future chapters. In contrast to earlier insights, the apartment is also pretty tidy.

– However, the interior differs massively from the previous chapters. I don't expect Zhen Xi and Jian Yi to be living together at this point. Old Xian just may not have used the previous references.

— So the connection between the two seems to be as strong as ever since Xi possibly brings him home to his flat instead to Jian Yi's.

- And another proof of how much Xi's character has changed. Because in the beginning, he didn't want anything more than kicking out Yi as soon as he showed up.

- He also apparently abandoned the violent nature. Instead of beating him up, he sits down on the couch with him in an embrace and falls asleep. He doesn't even take off his jacket, but lets Jian Yi willingly hug him.

- Somehow cute. Nevertheless, I hope that he will soon no longer keep Jian Yi friendzoned and return his feelings.

- Just as home furnishings have changed, Zheng Xi's character has changed.

— But maybe that's Jian Yi's apartment after all. No one knows about his living condition.

- Does he live alone? Or with his mother? Maybe he's back in He Cheng's care? Does Zheng Xi even know Jian Yi's address?

I hope we can find out more soon.

Tianshan

I think there are a lot of inconsistencies and you don't really get their behavior.

First of all a few trivial comments.

Rings:

- He Tian wears the ring he took himself as a gift. Coincidentally, it also fits like a glove. Either it would be too big for Mo anyway, or you can adjust the ring.

- In the first panel, it seems that Mo is also wearing a ring.

He Tian flirting:

- He Tian goes straight to the attack and leaves no unnecessary time and doubts about his intentions: After flirting, he just takes off his jacket and throws himself and Mo on the bed.

- He is hopelessly in love and love everything about Mo.

- That Mo has a newfound interest on studying turns he even more on.

- I think despite the fact that the room is too small for him, he will develop a secret preference for the bed. Because it's narrow and there is no place to escape and to keep a certain distance. So perfectly made for cuddling and sticking close together.

The apartment, Room, whatever you can call it:

- I immediately noticed the rule with books (if they were books).

- The guitar on his bed plus other books.

- At first I thought that the "apartment" consists of only one room, but the kitchen and at least the bathroom are missing.

- it's quite empty and reminds of He Tian's empty apartment.

- Still, it's pretty run down and seems so cold. I hope Mo doesn't freeze.

Living condition:

- The question, of course, would be why Mo lives under this condition, although he would have it better in his mother's old apartment.

- Did he want to become independent as quickly as possible and therefore moved out so as not to further burden his mother?

- However, I hardly think that his mother would have been satisfied with the condition of the apartment, because the condition is worrying. I don't think he invites his mother over to his house.

-I don't know if that is standard in China when you don't have money. In addition, 19 is still quite young. Many people still live with their parents at this age.

- Did something happen to the mother? Hopefully not.

But maybe Mo is just rebellious and proud that he could afford something of his own.

Indications of Mos' current activity.

- As I said, I immediately noticed the rule with books (if they were books). Which of course is totally untypical for Mo, since he was never interested in books and learning.

- Are these cook and music books?

- Can someone tell me what's written on this book?

- The book in He Tian's hand has an unusual book form. So I suspect that this is a music book with notes or tabs. It seems to be at least a book for studying.

- So does Mo study anything with music and do his part-time jobs to finance it?

- Does he study anything else?

- Does he go to university at all?

- Or does he really earn his money only with part-time jobs? Obviously he won't make much money with it, so they could only be an interim solution if Mo didn't want to keep this lifestyle for life.

- For the university in China you need a lot of money, which you couldn't pay on your own. But there is the possibility of scholarships (I just assume that there is also something like that in China). Maybe he got a music scholarship?

- Mo doesn't seem to have many things. Of course, the books and the guitar are striking.

The guitar

- At first glance, the guitar is reminiscent of He Tian's guitar, which he would like to give to Mo.

- If you take a closer look, they are identical in shape and color, but they are two completely different guitars.

- He Tian's guitar is an acoustic (or concert) guitar and Mo's is an electric guitar.

- Could it be a little mistake from Old Xian?

- Perhaps this is also a later gift from He Tian after Mo learned to play guitar with the acoustic guitar and get advanced. A lot of people start with an acoustic guitar before playing electric guitar.

- Maybe the guitar is from the same serial production.

- Maybe He Tian owns the acoustic guitar and buys an electric guitar for Mo from the same series after Mo's interest for learning guitar has been completely awakened.

- By the way, you need a guitar amplifier for full fun with an electric guitar. I didn't see it in his room.

- Unless this could be an amp. Does anyone know what this thing could be? For me this could be organizers.

- It's s also extremely inconvenient in an apartment to turn it up fully. (Do more people actually live there? The apartment looks more like an old rehearsal room or a garage. My rehearsal room looked something like this, that's why the associations).

- You can also play the electric guitar on headphones, but that's pretty impractical because of the sound (it differs, if you use headphones ir not) and you still need an amp.

- By the way, music it's a costly pleasure. So, it is all the more interesting what exactly Mo does and how he finances everything.

- But I think those are little things that Old Xian probably doesn't think about (something that you easily can forget) .

- I wonder if Mo is in a band. Maybe with Zhen Xi together.

So now to the most complicated point:

Hey Tian, his disappearance and the relationship with Mo.

- One learns that He Tian was not in China for a while.

Many questions arise from this:

- When was he gone?

- How long was he gone?

- Has he been away for a long period of time or is it a coming and going? A lot of it is pretty unclear, so you could guess both.

- The fact that He Tian was away for a long time speaks for the fact that he has never been to Mo's apartment. Has Mo just recently moved there?

- What is also new for him is that Mo reads books or even studies. You should actually know that if you were in regular contact. So is this a recent Mo hobby? That is rather unlikely. So how much did they really have to do with each other in the 4 years?

— However, there are some arguments against staying longer:

- He Tian knows where Mo works. If He Tian had been away for years, how would he know where Mo works? From Jian Yi or Zahn Xi? Maybe from Mo himself? Mo would most likely not give it away. So He Tian should at least stop by for visits.

- The second thing that speaks against it, is that Mo knows where He Tian lives. He Tian probably didn't change his apartment, but could have been if you weren't in the country for a long period of time. At least that doesn't indicate radio silence.

The relationship with Mo:

- After the chapters and all the hints, it was thought that the penny had finally fallen between the two, but no.

- Their relationship to each other has not really changed.

- Mo is still dismissive to He Tian.

There are several reasons about this matter:

— 1. Mo feels hurt and probably betrayed too.

- He Tian asked Mo in middle school not to abandom him. Now HE was the one who left and left Mo behind. Depending on the point in time at which this occurred, it is logical to first react in a negative manner.

— Nevertheless, He Tian seems to be a part of Mo's life, which he does not really want to give up and maybe also gives evidence that he might misses him.

The following aspect indicate

- He lit a cigarette, reminiscent of He Tian.

- He is still wearing his earrings.

- In addition, the design of his electric guitar is similar to He Tian's.

— 2. Mo couldn't build a closer bond with He Tian because He Tian left the country right after middle school.

- How can you build a relationship if you hardly see or not see each other?

- Mo has problems with trust. So I can imagine, that this could be extremely bitter for him and he is angry. Especially if he had open up to He Tian and then his gone.

— 3. Mo is just too stubborn to admit his feelings and get involved with He Tian and is a tsundere, so he have to act this way.

- Definition of a tsundere: "A tsundere is a character, most often female and in anime, who switches from being tough and cold towards a love interest into being soft and sweet"

- Well, I'm not so keen on these whole tsundere explanations. Of course his character is like a tsundere but it would be to simple to explain his character so one sided.

- Even tsundere characters can make progress and that's what I missing. The reationship between those two is going back and forth mostly two steps back and one forth. It's like they are stuck in this, just like ZhanYi are stuck in their relationship. But in this matter you know that Jian was gone for three years. Still I hoped Zhan Xi would finally admit his feelings, but he rather go with the safety zone. The case of Tianshan is way more complicated: You don't know what happened between them in these years. But He Tian seems to be in love more than ever and Mo seems to that he still hasn't figured out his feelings and doesn’t give the attention that He Tian wants. Mo is 18 or 19, not 15 anymore and I wish he would act more mature. But on the other hand, He Tian is really pushy again and is testing his limits. It's understandable that Mo acts irritated.

- So I think they are still don't there where you can call this a mutual relationship.

- They will eventually in the future, but this will take a lot more time obviously and they have a long road ahead.

Of course there is progress:

- Mo seems to have grown used to He Tian's approach.

- He is less aggressive, can even be touched, and he doesn't immediately panic. In the other special he even voluntarily shares a room with He Tian.

- On the other hand, He Tian seems to have become more courageous, so you thought, they really started out with a physical relationship.

- He gives away condoms, hugs him profusely, and tries to get to his butt (other special).

- Maybe they really did have an on-off thing.

- Old Xian indicated that He Tian was allowed to stay the night. So Mo doesn't throw him out. The only question is whether he is allowed to sleep in bed or whether the floor has to suffice.

- So yeah, for me this is really confusing.

Other abnormalities:

- Where's the dog?

- Did Xi stays true to the music? So far there has not been a hint of a musical instrument at his flat.

- What about Yi? Does he continue to play the guitar?

- And He Tian?

- When and why did Mo get his second piercing?

- He Tian doesn't seem to wear the chain with ring. Maybe he get it later?

#19 days #oldxian #zhan zheng xi #Jian Yi #mo guan shan #he tian #tianshan #zhanyi #Analysis #I should rather deal with university #19days

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captainillogical · 5 years ago

Text

Distant Lands Ch.6

Stranded on a planet with toxic conditions and nothing but the clothes on your back, your only means of survival lies within the gem that got you here in the first place.

Spinel/Reader

collab with my lovely wife @firstofficertightpants

It's been nearly two weeks that you've been on this hellhole of a planet, and frankly, you're pretty fucking done with it.

You're currently grabbing anything you've deemed useful from your shelter, as the trip over to the structure might take a while and honestly, you're not too sure you'll be back. Whatever state that building is in, it has to be better off than your drafty ruins. You're hoping so, anyway.

You look around you to your tied up supplies and pick up your last remaining fruit. You'll have to find some more along the way, but it shouldn't be a big deal. You shoulder your shoddily made pack, and head out the opening to meet with Spinel outside.

"Ya finally ready to go?" You hear her say from the side as you step out, and she's leaning against the building casually. You roll your eyes at her.

"It wouldn't have taken so long if you helped me tie up the remaining bundle of wood. I only have two hands, you know." You reply to her sarcastically.

"You seemed perfectly capable of handling that yourself, though."

"I am, thanks! You're just not allowed to complain about my speed." You say as you brush past her, nearly hitting her with your pack on purpose. You hear her scoff as you pass her.

You walk several steps away, heading in the direction the two of you discussed before realizing that you aren't hearing her footsteps behind you. You turn around to see her tugging on a nearby tree branch, ripping it off the tree easily.

"Uh, you coming?"

"Yeah, hold on." She says as she breaks off a couple twigs on the sides of her branch.

"What in the world are you doing?" You ask her, a little exasperated.

"Making a weapon? Just in case? We don't know what's over there." She raises her eyebrows like this is obvious.

"You.. you're a gem. You can smack the shit out of anything with your natural abilities. You don't need a sharp stick to help you."

"It's for you, stupid." She rolls her eyes. "You're like, fleshy and stuff. They'd rip you to shreds."

"I can defend myself, thanks." You retort, turning around to continue walking. She catches up to you pretty quickly.

"Can you just take it!?" She thrusts it out at you. You stare at her for a moment, and then reluctantly grab it from her hands.

“Fine, whatever.” You give her a look, and spin around to keep walking. “Pretty sure I’d be most likely ending up using this on you.” You mutter under your breath.

“What did ya just say?” You hear her say from behind you.

“Nothing.” You keep your pace brisk, stepping over the large roots on the overgrown footpath in front of you.

“Pretty sure I heard ya’ say something.”

“Forget it.” You wipe your forehead, the sweltering heat of the jungle making you slightly irritated. She makes a non-committal grunt in response.

You have a couple miles of walking before you guys reach your destination, and you’re only vaguely aware of where you’re going. Just the direction, really. You’re not exactly feeling super chatty, but you have a feeling Spinel is in a mood to be.

Surprisingly enough though, you both walk in complete silence for a good hour or so.

That is, until you decide to stop to rest your feet for a little while. You take your pack off to stretch your shoulders and arms out, leaning on a nearby large rock. You also set the stick she gave you down. Spinel's standing nearby, casually glancing at you as well as presumably looking out for any nearby threats.

"Organic beings sure need a lot of rest." You hear Spinel say out loud to no one in particular, and nearly scoff at her.

It's a bit funny, actually. You've learned in the last few days that she'll constantly talk out loud in a certain way, that leaves it open for you to join in on conversation. Even though it's just you two. You don't think she's doing it on purpose, but it's kind of hilarious to think that somehow, she's trying for companionship with you. Not that she has any other choice.

"We're literally walking meatbags, Spinel." You say to her quite frankly, and she makes a face. "I'm affected by a lot of things. Heat, moisture, the ground levels, even the gravity. Especially the gravity. I feel like this is going to have long term effects on my knees."

"I didn't think that the gravity would have much of an impact." She replies, crossing her arms.

"You wouldn't. You're a gem. You guys don't really think much about other species entirely."

"Okay.. ow. Ya’ don’t need to lump me in with the rest of them.”

You stare at her pointedly. “Do I need to remind you how I got here in the first place?”

“Point taken.” She replies, a bit sheepishly.

“Anyway,” You lean down to grab your pack off the ground. “Let’s keep going. We still have a ways to go.”

You trudge through the dense trees of the jungle, some areas much thicker than the rest. The air is downright dripping with humidity, making it harder for you to breathe. What’s even worse is that there is so much lush vegetation around you that you’re starting to feel like maybe you lost a bit of direction. You’re distracted with your thoughts about what lies ahead of you, that you nearly trip again on a large root half sticking out of the ground. Spinel grabs your arm to keep you from falling, and you mutter out a quick thanks to her without thinking too much about it. Adjusting the vine straps on your shoulders for better balance, you keep going. You hear Spinel behind you speak.

“Did you actually just thank me for something? Genuinely?” She sounds almost touched.

“Please don’t read into that.” You look up at the trees in irritation. She can’t see your face anyway. “I’ll make sure to never do that again.”

You hear her sigh loudly behind you. Ignoring it and keeping an eye out for everything around you, you notice something off to the side.

“Hey.” You stop and say. “Is that..”

You trail off, squinting in the distance. Spinel steps up beside you, peering through the trees to see what you’re looking at.

“Is that another cave?” She asks out loud. You were thinking the same thing.

“I think so. It looks similar to the other two we’ve seen.”

“Why out here?” She brings her hand up to her face, expression concerned.

“Does it look like I know? If anything, YOU should know. You’ve been to more places than I have, and have seen more.”

She glances at you with an unreadable expression.

“I.. haven’t really been to a place like this. This is all new to me as well.”

“What, have you lived under a rock this whole time?” You retort sarcastically, huffing out a short laugh. “..It’s funny because you’re technically a rock.”

She gives you a tired, grave expression, and you have to force yourself to not laugh out loud at it.

“..Maybe I have. Anyway.. we should probably check out what’s in there eventually. Maybe it’s gem stuff even I don’t know about.” She finishes, crossing her arms.

Her body language is a little stiff like you offended her, and you don’t know why. Maybe she hates jokes. Whatever.

“Look, I don’t know how to tell you this, but they give me bad vibes. I’m not too keen on going in there.”

“I could go in alone if you’re scared.” She smirks, eyes trailing down to yours.

“I’m not scared. It’s my gut instinct, asshole. And besides, you probably shouldn’t go in either. What if it’s something that can kill you?”

“Pfft, what could be in there that could kill me? I’m a gem, remember. I’ll just poof and reform.” She shrugs, uncaring.

“I feel like you should trust me in this. But if you wanna test fate, go right ahead.”

“I wouldn’t trust you even if you were actually giving me good advice.”

“I’m the one who should be saying that, not the other way around.” You scoff, glaring at her. You turn to keep walking.

Another hour of walking passes in mostly silence, and you finally reach an area with a clearing and a small hill. Eagerly, you run up it, hoping to be able to get a more precise look at your location, and how far you’re from the structure at this point.

You hear muffled foot movement in the grass, Spinel coming up beside you just as you realize what you’re seeing, now that you’re closer.

“Is that a half made Spire?” She says, hand flat above her face, shielding her eyes from the scorching sun overhead.

“I think so?” You reply, squinting to try to get a better look at the details. “I haven’t seen very many before so..”

“Huh, they stopped making those on planets thousands of years ago.” She looks over to you, and you meet her gaze.

“If they stopped that long ago, why is this one only half-made?”

“I.. don’t know.” She shrugs, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “They usually finish the job, whether it be for a kindergarten, or terraforming. It’s very unlike any colony to just.. stop. This planet should’ve been mostly decimated, now that I think about it.”

“Weird. Let’s go find out, I guess.” You shrug, and head back down the hill, Spinel following your lead.

It takes you another few hours to get to the Spire, considering you have to take a detour around a huge, unwalkable cliffside. The sun is starting to set when you get to it, some of the days heat already dissipated.

Looking up, this thing is maybe.. a good two hundred feet tall. Large chunks are missing out of several sides, some from age and decay, some from where they just stopped building. You feel Spinel’s presence beside you, her arm barely touching yours.

“It’s strange that they’d just.. stop.” She speaks up next to you. “Most of the Bismuth’s I’ve met refuse to let a job go unfinished. They’re perfectionists.”

You stare up at it long enough for your neck to start hurting. Its.. height is a little formidable.

“Is there a way for us to get inside?” You ponder out loud, looking around the base of the building, too many trees nearby obscuring most of it.

“There’s always a way to get inside. Ya just gotta look.”

“I AM looking.” You walk off from her, moving several bushes aside in one area, looking for a clue along the edges of the walls surface.

“It’s probably on the other side, then.” She says sarcastically, catching up to you instead of looking around by herself.

You feel yourself rolling your eyes, and you let the bush branches out of your grip, nearly hitting Spinel with it. She just barely manages to move out of the way before getting whipped by it.

“Watch it!” She shouts, glaring at you.

“Oh, my bad.” You smirk. “Didn’t see you there. Was just trying to find the entrance.” You blink innocently.

She stares at you dumbfounded, and shuts her open mouth. Turning on her heel, she spins around to walk in the other direction around the Spire.

You chuckle to yourself. How dramatic.

Looking at the walls of this building, you trail your hand along the stone, gazing upon any crack that might give you a clue. The base of this thing is pretty large, so a door could be anywhere.

It’s pretty quiet around you. It’s kind of always been quiet on this planet, but you feel like it’s even quieter around this area for whatever reason. The weird vines are here as well, with those gross-looking fleshy flowers climbing up the wall of this half-finished tower. A couple minutes pass as you keep walking around this thing, finding absolutely nothing still.

You eventually catch up with Spinel, and see her standing in front of something.. which you can see is vaguely door-shaped, covered by a thick layer of vines. Of course.

“Found it.” She starts with, sounding smug. She’s smirking. “Told ya it was on the other side.”

“Of course it was.” You reply, not at all enthused. “You figure out how to open it yet?”

“No..” She trails off, looking around the edge of the door, pushing vines aside to find some sort of control for the door.

“Of course you haven’t.”

“Hey, at least I found the door.”

“Not exactly an accomplishment.” You say sarcastically, bending down to the left side, moving vines to see something you had thought you saw turned out to be nothing. You hear her scoff in irritation. “Isn’t there normally some kind of access panel?”

“Yeah, but I can’t seem to find it.”

“Aren’t you useful.” You mutter under your breath, starting to move large amounts of vines at once, determined to get inside the Spire before it actually gets dark.

“I heard that.” She huffs out in irritation.

“I’m glad you have functioning ears.” You reply, deadpan. “Do you have functioning eyes? Because I need you to use them before we’re stuck out here in the dark.”

“Why are you such an asshole, like, all the time?” You hear her say from behind you.

Is she really asking you this? You sigh internally, not wanting to have this conversation.

“Because I’m tired, all the time. Tired of this place, tired of you, tired in general.” You stand up, hearing your spine crack, and look at Spinel.

She looks.. kind of hurt. What the hell.

“Also, it’s kind of a defense mechanism.” You finish with, taking one last look along the entirety of the wall. Fuck all of this, you were hoping it’d be easy.

“What.. do you mean?” She asks, tentatively.

“What?” You turn to raise your eyebrow at her, puzzled. “Do you like, care, or something?” “No,” She says all too quickly. “I just don’t understand why you’re defensive, or so hostile towards me.”

“Why wouldn’t I be? It’s not like we’re friends.” You give her another look. “Can we like, just get this door open? Instead of chatting. I can physically feel the temperature drop.”

Her gaze lingers on you, completely unreadable, before looking back towards the door.

“I’m kind of at a loss. Normally the panel is just out in full view, but I can’t seem to find anything anywhere.”

“Ughhh, I just want IN!” You nearly shout in frustration, slapping your hand against the wall.

You hear a click, and the sound of stone sliding against itself. You and Spinel look at each other.

“Huh.” She says, “What do ya know?”

A small panel opens on the side, and you see its screen glowing. Both of you walk up to it.

“Is there like a button, or..?” You trail off momentarily, thinking to yourself. “Pearl usually just placed her hand on it, and we’d be good.”

Spinel considers it for a second, and then slams her palm on the screen.

It does nothing for several long seconds, and then you hear the voice of a Pearl.

“Please scan your gem.” The console says nearly robotically.

You look towards Spinel, and her eyebrows are furrowed in confusion. “What?” You ask.

“This is really old tech.” She states, and walks right up to the screen. “I’m pretty sure only Diamonds and their Pearls would have access to something like this.” She leans over the screen, letting it recognize the object in front of it. A red line comes out, and it scans her gem.

“Is there any other way in?” You nearly sigh out loud, frustrated. The sun has set already, and it’s nearly chilly outside now. Pretty soon you’ll be seeing your breath.

You hear two beeps in succession, and the voice chimes out again.

“Welcome, Spinel.”

“Uhh,” You say in confusion. “You been here before?”

“I’m one hundred percent sure I haven’t.” She states, just as confused as you are.

The door in front of you shudders under the weight of the vines, before finally opening with a swoosh sound. Stale air hits you in the face, and you almost sneeze.

“Spinel,” You say. “What kind of gem did you say you were again?”

“I never told you what kind of gem I was.” She stares at you, slightly guarded.

“Why would you have access? What are you?” You push at her, needing to know.

She sighs in aggravation, wiping her hand down her face.

“I’m a companion gem.”

You stare at her.

“A companion gem. What exactly does that fucking mean?” You ask.

“Ya know.. like. Friendship and stuff.” She huffs out, narrowing her eyes at you.

“What..” You slowly blink, trying to comprehend this. Oh my god, what the fuck? You guess that makes sense, considering.. “So you just like, make friends with people? Pfff-” “Don’t.” She cuts you off with a glare.

"You're a friendship gem? The fuck? Are you like some sort of carebear?" You try not to laugh. You weren’t expecting this from a gem who tried to kill you.

"Tha' fuck is a carebear." She spits out, clearly aggravated and confused.

"Don’t worry about it." You shut your mouth, in case you burst out laughing. “Let’s just go inside, shall we?”

She nearly pushes past you, walking into the entrance of the Spire. You follow suit.

With a whooshing sound, the door closes behind you both, and envelopes you in darkness.

#spinel x reader #spinel #su #steven universe #spinel self insert #reader insert #distant lands #fic #my fic #sorry its late #:(

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undreaming-fanfiction · 5 years ago

Text

A Night to Remember: Persuasion

Fandom: Cats the musical Rating: T (could potentially go up later) Pairing: multiple in future chapters, Tuggoffelees, Victoria/Plato, Demeter/Munkustrap etc. Category: magical circus AU, slow burn Chapter number: 6 Chapter summary: Quaxo and Victoria decide to visit the circus the morning after the night visit. Tugger is not a morning person.

The previous chapter: A Late Visit

Tugger, being a night owl through and through, wasn't really keen on being woken up before the sun had risen high above the circus tent. If he was woken up earlier, for reasons beyond his control and liking, he asked for two things - a good reason and a gentle approach. The morning after his and Munkustrap's visit of the Spectacular siblings, he was granted only one of those - the reason was, indeed, good, but the approach was...well. What else to expect from his brother?

The tall performer was just having the most wonderful dream, something along the lines of lying on a beach, on his own, no fans, no squealing, no unexpected hugging, when a too familiar voice interrupted the pleasant vision and yanked him back to the decidedly less comfortable reality of his caravan. "Rise and shine, dear brother of mine!" A second later, the curtains were drawn apart, no warning, no gentle coaxing, just a sharp sound and even sharper light.

Tugger grumbled and rolled over to his other side, covering his face with a pillow. "You monster. You cruel, cruel monster. How could you do that to a member of your family?"

Munkustrap chuckled and sat beside Tugger on his surprisingly wide bed. Count on the younger man, a known lover of long and comfortable sleep, to squeeze the widest bed possible into the caravan and seemingly defy the rules of space. "Why so glum? Our night mission was a success, you know. The two promising recruits were intrigued by your presentation and decided to visit us the first thing in the morning. They are currently at the entrance, Jenny dragged them over for a cup of tea. But they will definitely want to see the rest of our troupe and who better to show them around than the man who persuaded them to give this humble establishment a chance?" If Tugger didn't know any better, he'd suspect Munkustrap of being slightly mischievous.

"Good for you, oh mighty persuader...persuasion person...whatever." The pillow was not yet removed and the caravan owner was definitely falling asleep again. "Great job, Munk. 10/10. Now go and impress them even more."

But of course, the cruelties had no end. A firm hand yanked the pillow off Tugger's face and exposed his face to the morning light, bright and unforgiving. "Nothing of the sort, Tugger. You were the major factor of our success. In fact, you did so well on your own! You should consider ditching me more often. So off you go and be even more charming than you are now."

Still half blinded by the light, Tugger opened one eye and squinted at Munkustrap. "When did you get a sense of humour?"

Munkustrap smiled and stood up, preparing to leave. "I believe it was born when I saw you gaping at that young magician for not being impressed by you. Ah, one of my most cherished memories."

And before Tugger could react, the heartless man stole his blanket as well and not even a heartfelt "you're dead to me" helped. It truly was a horrible morning.

------

A lot of grumbling and swearing later, Rum Tum Tugger finally emerged from his caravan and made his way towards the circus entrance. Even Jenny's cheerful "Good morning, sunshine!" did very little to improve his mood and neither did seeing the two smiling siblings (well, the girl was definitely smiling, but the magician's face would hardly qualify as a smile - the corners of his mouth were very, very slightly turned upwards and his dark eyes never stopped watching their surroundings. A suspicious guy).

He leaned against a nearby tree and gave a slight wave at Jennyanydots, a mild-looking lady in her forties or fifties. Her copper hair, possibly but very elegantly dyed, glimmered in the morning sun. "I hope you slept well, dear," she winked at him. She had a squirrel sitting on her knee and two surprisingly tame pigeons on her shoulders. Given how calm the siblings looked, they probably had been explained what Jenny's gift was - everyone called it talking to animals, but Jenny insisted it was more of a telepathic connection and feelings exchange. Anyway, animals of all kinds loved her and she returned the love tenfold more.

"Morning Jenny. Spectacular siblings." He may have sounded a tiny bit sarcastic there, but no man should function on so little sleep. "Early birds, are you? I didn't expect to see you at this ungodly hour." And to Tugger's mild annoyance, the magician's smile visibly widened.

"Not at all, Tugger," he assured him while sipping his tea. "But your and Munkustrap's description of this place was so vivid and enchanting that we simply had to come and see as soon as we woke up."

We didn't sleep that well, Victoria admitted, silencing a yawn that almost found its way to her lips. We had too much to think about.

Tugger sighed and rubbed his forehead. "Yeah, well...if you didn't come, we would've found you ourselves. We usually don't get to share all the news in one go, otherwise people just...stare. And doubt. And then it ends poorly."

Noticing the confused glance the brother and sister exchanged, Jenny shot Tugger a disapproving look. "Really, dear. You make it sound so dramatic. No need to scare our new friends away." Turning back to the siblings, she attempted to reassure them. "You have to forgive him, my dears, he is always grouchy in the morning. But he is right. There needs to be a...slight follow-up, I'm afraid. There is something people usually don't react well to, especially when being visited by two strange men in the night."

Victoria's eyes were huge, going back and forth between Jenny and Tugger. What is it?

Quaxo was quiet for a while, staring into his tea. So many things seemed to be going through his head, Tugger was almost concerned he'd just grab his sister and leave. Perhaps it would have been better to tell them everything in one go, but with the past experience...who could have known there would be a single person who didn't appreciate a careful, gentle approach?

The dark eyes finally left the dark liquid, darting back to the tall performer with a surprising directness. "Well, since we're already here, we might as well hear all of it. What's so disturbing you couldn't have told us yesterday?"

Jenny patted his hand in a calming manner. "Please understand, Quaxo. It is not...disturbing as such, but some people, especially those who learn for the first time they are not the only ones with...certain gifts...do not take well being told that they may not be able to handle something. After all, we are all rather special. But some...in different ways."

We have already heard of Macavity, Victoria turned towards Jenny, confused. We already know he's dangerous.

Tugger sighed and the roll of his eyes would probably have been irritating, if he wasn't so tense. "Yeah, you...kinda don't. Not all of it, anyway." Silencing the complaint that was already making its way to Quaxo's lips, he continued. "Look, he runs a criminal group, that's what you already know. Quite a few of our kind are involved, that's what we also told you. But Macavity doesn't need to threaten to get his way."

Victoria was still frowning, not fully following, but Quaxo took a sharp breath and muttered, "He's one of us, isn't he?"

"Yes, he is," Jenny nodded. The reassuring smile left her face for a moment, making it look older and more tired. "Look, dears. From what I have heard, you know from your own experience that our gifts can often influence others, directly or indirectly. You," she turned to Quaxo, "can influence your surroundings. Tugger here is one of those who affect people's behaviour, they are more...willing to do what he wants without him even saying it. Such gifts can be dangerous if used selfishly. And Macavity has one that serves him too well in his activities. He has the gift of persuasion."

"For instance," Tugger interjected, "let's say that you go and meet him after your performance. You may know all these things, you are forewarned, you think you can just say no to him. Except when he speaks...things other people had told you don't mean anything anymore. Because he sounds so sincere, so bloody caring," he spat those words out with so much venom Victoria tensed in her seat. "In the end, you join him because you trust him. That is the danger of meeting him. Some manage to escape after while - he stops using his gift on them when they are no longer useful, because he finds it entertaining, to crush people's illusions. What a guy."

"Which is yet another one of his persuasion tactics," sighed Jenny. "If he cannot persuade you fully, he just uses his gift on others in your surroundings. I can't count all those who lost their jobs or homes because Macavity wanted them in his...group. They eventually join, either due to his persuasion or lack of options."

Tugger suddenly left his spot and leaned over the three of them. "Which is why you can't meet him today! You may have been able to somehow cancel my gift," he looked at Quaxo, who visibly froze due to the unexpected closeness, "but Macavity is something else. And I don't want to imagine what he'd do with the two of you. Telepathy and reality alteration. No wonder he wants you so badly."

The tense atmosphere was fortunately interrupted by Jenny who nudged Tugger's side, making him leap back and squirm. Quaxo noticed with a barely contained glee that the tall man might be ticklish. "Now now. You're not here just for tea and a morning horror story," she teased and blatantly ignored Tugger's look of hurt dignity. "Come on, let's meet the rest of the troupe!"

The siblings stood up and carefully approached the dark entrance to the circus tent, Victoria with barely contained excitement, Quaxo with his usual caution. The place might turn out to be their new home...or a trap. That was their usual conflict of personalities, Victoria hopeful and trusting, Quaxo...not so much. Still, he found himself wanting to believe these people, despite his better judgement.

"Oh come on, they don't bite!" growled Tugger and pushed them inside.

----

Next chapter: The Company

#I am alive #Probably #cats the musical #cats musical #cats #cats fanfiction #a night to remember #mistoffelees #magical mr mistoffelees #rum tum tugger #tugger #tuggoffelees #so sorry for the long break

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syvanna · 5 years ago

Text

for @goldenites/@rawmeknockout, a very long read I wrote and forgot about.

nsfw moder/reader

You wake, lying in the dirt. Under your palms the earth is soft and pliant; your fingers flex, and bury into the soil. Its coolness is a soothing satisfaction. The old, brittle oaks hang high above you, disappearing into the night - but so does something else.

From the foliage it emerges, in all its massive grandor and spindly limbs, stooping down low to regard you. You aren’t prepared for the way it crowds and occupies the empty space above you; its torso hangs heaving, its breath a loud, deep rasp that shakes the air as it expels it. You are keenly aware of the way its long arms drape like dead weights, their hands resting heavily against your thighs.

It whispers something you can’t quite catch, and you are unknowingly tricked into moving closer to the hood of it so you may hear. But when it speaks again it is so foreign and incomprehensible that it leaves your mind reeling as it tries to grasp onto something it can make sense of. One of its arms curls around your neck in an attempt to brace you, its knuckles gently pressing into the back of your skull as it continues to whisper in your ear. Each word feels like a scrape against the back of your teeth, and your mouth tingles sickly.

It seems sympathetic to the disoriented state it leaves you in, treating you as tenderly as it does. Its hand comes to cup the swell of your cheek and dirt smears against your skin where its fingers brush against. When it grows quiet, you turn to look back at it. Its attention is currently caught by its own calloused finger tracing the shape of your lip, an almost ghost of a touch.

It utters a single word and suddenly you’re at a loss of breath, air rushing out from your lungs as something sharp burrows into your chest. Your hand comes to grip at a wrist, finding that the fingers of the other hand have dug deep into your chest and are only digging deeper. As you keel forward, it tips what might have passed for its head against your own, free hand coming to rest as a present weight on the back of your neck as you wheeze harshly, gasping for breath. It murmurs, croaks conveying sympathy, but urging you on through the pain.

You wheeze, struggling to suck in enough air, but nothing sticks and your lungs feel like they’ve been rung out dry. All you can do is try to steady yourself as you heave, but it's put you in a vulnerable state.

The creature’s hands are on you, stern and reprimanding. Shaping you into a form that it finds fitting. It guides you into a proper kneeling position until you are hunched over the ground, shaken and sick with the thought of the foreign puncture into your chest. It tucks your arms underneath you and cradles your hands within its own.

Blood pours from the open wound on your chest and pools in the cup of your palms. But where you think it should be a rich colour, it is dark and brown, dripping with some form of excrement, and your throat stings with the unpleasant taste of bile.

You keen, a trembling noise escaping you as you cry. The creature is quick to cover you with its pseudo human form, arms draped along your back, enveloping you in it’s embrace. It mourns with you, its sound a devastating intensity that quakes through you--

You’re thrust awake and that mourning sound wails into the night, engulfing you in its bellow. Someone’s screaming, crying out, but the noise is drowned out by the other, the one that pinches your eardrums.

When it finally ends, you lay in your sleeping bag, too shaken to move, each sound emitted by the woods around you suddenly too loud for the sensitive state that you’ve been left in. There’s nothing but the shambling sounds of people scrambling against the restraints of their tent, calling out to anyone who would answer. Only four voices respond. There should be seven of you.

You don’t leave your tent that night. The group you are with spend a couple hours acting frantic, before settling down into hushed arguments. Someone comes and checks on you, but you say your fine, though you spend the rest of the night huddled in the corner of your tent, simply listening to yourself breath. It sounds a bit laboured, you think.

You don’t move until the morning, until you see the paper thin walls around you brighten with the light of day. But it never comes. When you finally force yourself to peer out of your tent, it’s still dark out, a rolling mist passing through the sparse trees surrounding your encampment. It almost feels too heavy, the fog, and you settle to swallow the sick that threatens to pour out of you.

The group decides to leave the tents behind and set out as early as possible. You’re just given enough time to gather what supplies were left behind, but there’s nothing useful. You’ve maybe gained an extra snack bar and a walking stick. At least you’ve got something to swing.

Both of the guides that had brought your group into the woods on this excursion were dragged off during the night. None of you having any actual hiking experience - there was a trail that you were supposed to stick to. How did you even end up in the woods, you wonder. You’re surrounded by a bunch of young adults whoever never spent a night in the woods by themselves. Which doesn’t bode well for you, because you certainly haven’t either.

The rest of the day is spent wandering through the woods, trying to get the smallest amount closer to the lodge. Every so often someone will call out the name of one of the missing party members. Their voices don’t echo, though- the moss and shallow bark seemingly swallowing up the sounds. Every so often you think you might hear something. A sound that shouldn’t be there. You try to concentrate, listen to how many footsteps you can hear but it doesn’t make any sense when you really think about it, and you can’t hear over your own breathing.

Someone you don’t remember the name of glances back at you at one point, then stops. They’re worried. You’re bleeding, they say. You’re bleeding? You look down, noticing that underneath your coat you can just make out the sign of something that doesn’t match the colour of your shirt. Unzipping your jacket, you find that the entire front of your shirt is matted with a giant stain of dried blood.

Someone asks what happened. You had a dream, you say, but it was just a dream. There appears to be a couple of holes in your chest, however. They aren’t small holes.

Where there was once a festering wound of broken emotion, nursed for years, now gone overnight- the hollow ache finally abated. In its place, this mark, five open wounds for the hurt to pour out.

The thought is a comfort.

You can’t remember when the woods started to become more dense, but the number of trees has certainly increased. The group has decided to take a moment and squabble over the next course of events. Someone wants to climb a tree, try to get a better idea of the area, maybe throw themselves off and end their misery in the process. Whatever’s more convenient.

You’re eyes ache as the tree lines blur, becoming one long wall of peeling bark. You weave through the trees, trying to space them apart. You’re bored, and the group is near. You won’t lose them easily.

Rounding on one particular tree, your eyes catch a break to the pattern. Someone stares back at you.

You just about wretch.

Someone from the group finally hears you calling out and they come to gather alongside you. They don’t understand at first- the trees are a disorienting illusion. They’re silent at first, not sure what they’re looking at. Someone starts to cry. One of the boys actually does wretch.

We need to leave, someone finally says, frantic. Someone responds by shouting, as if it wasn’t obvious enough, and then they’re all yelling at each other. The seventh hiker stares on blankly, and you think there’s no way anyone could have impaled them that high.

The shouting comes to an abrupt stop as everyone’s heads snap in the same direction, and suddenly there’s an overwhelming hush that falls over the forest. Something had snapped, too loud over the voices. The woods remain unmoving, however, until they’re not.

It’s almost as though a tree has uprooted itself and surged forward, but you don’t stick around to find out. Everyone’s broken off into a sprint, crashing against trees as they scramble to get away from whatever is in pursuit. A deafening, garbled sound rings out, shortly followed by the sound of trees that come crashing down. Someone screams ‘Fuck off!’ in response.

You pick up speed once the forest hits a decline, and suddenly you’re flying down a hill. Someone screams, only to be cut short by a rough, guttural squelch and then there’s a body that goes sailing high above you. Your step falters and you almost come to a complete halt at the display, but then you happen to glance over and your eyes lock with a creature of massive size that’s currently matching your pace. Your heart falters, and your legs threaten to give out.

Distracted, you lose your footing as you trip over a mangled root. You’re weightless only for a moment before the ground comes rushing to meet you. You collide hard, body aching on impact. The world continues to spin as you lie motionless on the ground floor. Something comes trotting into your line of sight, stooping down low to get a good look at you as it passes by, but you can’t make it out properly as your vision continues to swim. In the distance, you hear someone scream.

It takes you longer than you’d like, but you make an effort to drag yourself to safety, even if it’s slow and dirty and there’s not really anywhere for you to go. As long as you keep moving you can save yourself, you think.

The forest floor levels out, and not too far away the ground dips into what looks like a creek. It’s not much, but it’s cover.

The cliff side is shallow and the dirt crumbles underneath your weight, letting you ride down easy into the cover of the creek. You sit on the bank, trying to catch you breath but it’s wheezing and even more laboured than it was when you first woke up earlier that day. Your coat is covered, your sleeves are full of dirt, and you’re just about ready to cry. But you have a moment to yourself and you try not to lose your mind despite everything.

It’s quiet again. You don’t hear the struggles of the people you once knew, nor do you hear the creaking of broken bark. It’s just the stream and your own breathing, now. You know you can’t stay here forever, but you’re just about miserable and shaken enough to try.

The dirt that’s collected in your coat has driven you to your wits end, and you shed the layer of clothing in a fit. Your shirt’s been ruined since you started bleeding on it, but the fabric and dried blood scrapes against your skin, leaving you uncomfortable and agitated so you remove that as well.

As much as the thought of what might be in the water makes your stomach churn, you also wouldn’t mind a quick rinse of cold water. You submerge your ruined shirt in the stream and use it to wipe away the blood and grim, taking care around the wounds on your chest. You don’t think you can feel better after what happened today, but you feel just the slightest bit refreshed.

Once you’ve finished wiping yourself down, you wring out the piece of fabric before pocketing it in your coat. You doubt the thing hunting you is going to care for human decencies.

You wear your coat open as you follow the uneven embankment, trying to quietly navigate loose stones and pebbles. The sound of your own footsteps makes you wince, and you try to quell your rising anxiety. But every movement has you on guard and you eye the trees overhead fretfully.

You break out of the shelter of the shallow bank and rejoin the rest of the woods, toeing the rubble of upturned roots and dirt that have been torn up by whatever’s been tearing through the forest. If you’re careful, its tracks might lead you to what might remain of your group. If you can avoid finding the creature instead. The thought is incredibly stupid, but you don’t have any other.

When the sun finally breaks through the clouds, it’s setting. You’ll only be allowed a few minutes of golden light before it’s dark again, and you’re not sure what the night might bring this time. It can’t be any worse than what you’ve already experience, you think. It’s a pathetic attempt at hope, but you’ve been walking for hours on edge that you just want it to finally be over with.

If everything had gone according to plan, if nobody had gotten lost or stirred whatever ancient and malvoyant creature that resides in these woods, it would have been a lovely hike. At this point you think you might just be avoiding the inevitable and enjoying just wandering through the woods.

Something rustles behind you and your heart stops as something ghosts past your ear, tangling with your hair. And that’s it, isn’t it?

And just for a moment, you see how the creature looks in the sunlight. For all it’s jutting spines and mangled limbs, it has all the natural grace of a predator and regality only reserved for the most ancient and tried creatures. And here it holds you steady, its hands cradling your face, forcing you to gaze upon it in all of its might and wonder. You want to speak, to tell it that it has you from here to forever, but you feel like you lack the means to properly communicate it.

It’s knuckles graze softly against your cheek in parting as it rises to its full height, limbs creaking and bristling as it assumes a very particular stance. You stand at a lost, neck straining as you try to take in all of the creature. It bristles, and you think that you might be trying its patience. But than you think you’ve seen this all before, and that it’s shown you how to pay tribute with guiding hands.

Kneeling down, you curl into yourself, hands held out in supplication and head rest against the mossy earth. It chitters joyfully, letting loose a bellow of grating thunder that shatters against the surrounding oaks, shaking the foliage overhead. You tremble as it passes through you, delighting in the rumble that follows. Soon there are hands urging you to sit back so that they can roam your face, caressing each curve inquisitively, toying with the length of your hair.

You let out a breathy laugh, delighting in this new found appreciation. They are massive and deserving of so much love, such as you are.

Its hands smooth down the length of your neck, brushing past the open jacket and suddenly you’re anxious, but not unpleasantly. You don’t know how much to expect from this god being, how foreign and familiar the two of you might be. They knuckle idly at your ribs, fingers curling around to hold your torso in hand. You try to ignore the fact that your core clenches slightly at the mere brush of a thumb against your perk nipple, but as it doesn’t retreat, instead focusing on toying with your breast, you think its behavior might be intentional after all.

It leans forward, crowding the space between you and firmly pushes you until you’re lying back against the ground. You feel the hot, damp breath of the creature against your cheek and instinctively bare your neck. Lips ghost your jawline and a thick, steaming appendage draws a wet line against the pulse point in your throat. You gasp, turning back to look at them with a heavy gaze. One of your hands has come up, brushing against the hood of its face before you stop, remembering your place under it.

It makes a noise of encouragement as it leans forward and you are eager to press your lips against its own. It huffs, delighted, teeth grazing your lower lip in its haste. You know no harm will come to you. Your lips part, tonguing playfully at their teeth and suddenly something even larger than your own comes pressing forward. It is, to say, a mouthful, and you let out a small whimper as their tongue curls against your own. You find that it is delighted when you attempt to suck on the much larger appendage, eagerly pressing further in to the point of overwhelming. Whether it's aware of your own limitations or not, it certainly pushes them and you nearly gag on the length of them.

You are very aware of how much tongue withdraws from your mouth and your mind wanders to other things as it moves to your neck, grazing your collar with its teeth. It proceeds further until its breath is on the swell of your breast, its tongue toying with the nipple. An arm wraps around under your waist as it takes it into its mouth, sucking lightly while its other hand creeps into the waist of your pants.

You squirm as you feel a digit press against your core through your underwear, only to realize that it struggles with the barrier. It grumbles as it continues to toy with your sex through the fabric, thumb brushing against your clit before it does away with the execution of tact and digging the heel of its palm to grind against your core. You push back, its harsh grazing giving you more than enough substance to find your pleasure from and you sigh, just basking for a moment in the relief it brings you as it presses a kiss to the corner of your mouth.

You gently drape on arm over the back of its neck as it goes about sucking on your breast and rubbing your clit. You would ask, politely, if it may give you more, but you’re unsure of how much more you’re actually prepared for. Instead, with what restraint you can muster in this sort of situation, you lean back, hoping to detach yourself from its embrace, only for a quick moment.

It dogs your retreat by smothering its face further into your chest, sucking harshly at your sore peaks as it arms wind themselves around your waist. You try to communicate your intentions, but even they are incomprehensible, words stumbling into one another as you falter under its sensations.

It peels back enough to regard you with an interested stare, and when your hands move to unbutton your pants it becomes even more engrossed. You don’t make it far as you attempt to shimmy out of your pants; once it’s discovered the gained ground its received, it already moves in to claim it. Hot breath washes over your core, heating it in turn as you squirm at the implication. The first brush of its tongue is hampered by the thin fabric that still clothes you and you can’t help the frustrated and startled moan that leaves you.

It is insistent with its inquisitive scenting, enough that you struggle to pull the fabric aside for it to access what its after. When its tongue finally brushes against your flesh you can’t help but cry out, involuntarily letting go of the fabric before it can proceed further but this time it knows.

Its teeth briefly scrape your skin before it snaps the cradle of your underwear with a swift, harsh snap of its head.

Its tongue is immediately on you soon after, so hot on your slit that you let out a cry, hips tilting to get away. It doesn’t let you get far, however, taking hold of your still trapped legs until they have nowhere to go except tangled over its shoulder. The fur on its stag like body tickles your feet, and you squirm, but they hold you down. It doesn’t take its time with this; rather, you’re overwhelmed by its eagerness as it drinks all of you in. It is unyielding to your involuntary jerking, tongue pressing hotly against your clit before enveloping it with its lips to suck and wonder at its flavor. Its arms have folded over your stomach and weigh heavy as it buries further into you.

Its tongue creeps between your lower lips, dipping its tip just shy of your opening. You make soft noises at it, hips squirming as it discovers something it might dip into. You’re unprepared for the way it proceeds, a cautiousness that begets the burning need that pains you as the thickness of its tongue stretches you open, slow as it presses forth. When it discovers its safe to proceed without worry, its exploration doubles in its effort.

The length of its tongue slides in easily, and your body careens in response. It holds you steady, pressing in heavy strokes as it tastes you. It’s thick enough that it fills you, but it yields when your walls try to clutch at it. The tip curls against the upper wall, dragging on its way out and you can’t help but cry. It isn’t dissuaded from its task and you’re soon sobbing as it maintains the rhythm it takes you at, sloppy and burning with a delightful intensity that turns your core to molten.

It is unsympathetic to your desperate rutting in release, one hand holding you hard to the forest floor as its tongue presses even harder into you. You choke on your sobs, wailing into the night as you continue to cum under its care. When it finally withdraws, its to press one forearm under the croak of your knees and press them further back as it licks the mess that's become of your pussy, tongue lapping continuously at your clit as you cringe at another building climax. Through gritted teeth you can do nothing but endure the way your core clenches on nothing but your crux of your pleasure sings with euphoria.

It continues long after you’ve been sated. Continues until you’re a hampered, quivering mess, laid to rest on the forest floor. You don’t even realize when it's finally relented in its hunger, lying limp with your legs still tangled haphazardly in the sleeves of your pants. When its hands finally come to brush the hair out of your face, you merely flinch before finding comfort in the caress that follows. Your vision is hazy and you are exhausted, but when its arms come to help you stand, you allow it, only conscious enough to fix your clothing before you lean into its embrace, sleepy and sated. There’s a pleasant rumble from the creature and without realizing it the grounds slips away as you’re scooped up into its arms and it carries you away.

#the ritual #moder #self insert #my writing

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imyourplusone · 5 years ago

Text

Lizzington Week // Day 1// One-shot Ao3

~Spark ~

“You asked a very important question that night in Montreal. You could ask me again.”

He swallows and replays their conversation in his mind, not for the first time since they shared a cocktail and he found himself falling.

“Why would I do that?”

“Lizzy! This is a…”

“Surprise?” she asks in amusement and takes a seat next to him on the bench. “Or are you wondering how I knew where to find you?”

His smile at seeing her had quickly turned to confusion, realizing there was no earthly reason for her showing up out of the blue. Especially since Dembe is still at the safehouse and has no idea of his ramblings this morning.

“It has suddenly crossed my mind.”

“I’m a profiler, Raymond.”

He watches her a moment as she turns her face up and closes her eyes to the sound of the wind rustling through the trees overhead.

“Care to expand on that?”

“Today is the day.”

For what he has no idea, but he could conjure a thousand of them in his mind that include her next to him. Something he has vast experience with after all this time. The days of exploring new landscapes or visiting old haunts without imagining her there, wanting her there, are long over.

“You didn’t slip a tracking device into my pocket did you?”

“Not this time,” which earns her a chuckle and she turns back smiling. “Don’t you feel it?”

He feels everything at once, which is always the way with her, and can only shake his head. “You really will have to be more specific.”

“It finally feels like fall. There’s a bite in the air today.”

“Yes, there is,” he says quietly. Watching. Waiting.

“And I know it’s your favorite season and that you always roam about on that first day of autumn.”

But how would she know? He’s always alone on these crisp mornings when he gets a little lost, enjoying the freedom before winter sets in.

“Contrary to what you may think,” she continues, seeing the question in his eyes. “I do listen to your stories and saw the pattern emerge.”

There is no recollection of it, the clues that led her to this park on this day, but she somehow collected them and chose this morning to test her theory. And judging by the satisfied smile lighting up her face, she is quite pleased with herself. As she should be.

“But that doesn’t explain why you’re here.”

It’s almost like the wind is waiting for her answer, as well. Suddenly it is impossibly quiet while he waits, tilting his head ever so slightly to study her.

“Because I didn’t want to be cooped up in the Post Office when I could be walking along the river with you.”

And that’s all the answer he will get as she stands rather abruptly and makes a point to zip her jacket for longer than necessary.

He will wonder about it, of course, but not right now. Now they will continue on his course toward the water, a route he hadn’t really been aware of until she mentioned it. But he is more than aware of other things. There is the pressure of her hand that eventually slips through his arm and the flush that occasionally rises in her face…..that must be from the chill in the air and the wind that has returned to whip about them as they walk.

….

“I hope you like popcorn.”

“Lizzy, what….”

“...am I doing here?” she asks when he stops, eyes narrowing, as she plops down in the seat beside him. “I came for the movie. Here, hold my stuff.”

The popcorn is handed over, and a drink along with candy and more candy, until her hands are free to remove her jacked and get comfortable.

“Dare I ask how you knew where I’d be at this particular moment?”

“Raymond, we’ve already been through this routine. You see, I’m a profiler.”

“You could humor me this once.”

It makes her laugh and she explains, while reclaiming her purchases from the snack bar. “Well, you are appallingly clueless about current television or film, but have an affinity for the classics. Would you like some of my M&M’s?”

“Perhaps later. Go on.”

“There’s not much to tell. You were reading the paper and something made you smile, which turned out to be the announcement for this theater’s classic movie day. However, knowing you wouldn’t want to come at the regular showing, I figured you’d make a deal with the manager and here we are, nine in the morning on a Tuesday, ready to watch North By Northwest.”

There it is. A clue within the story. What she left out, but what he sees so clearly. She wanted to know what caught his attention, made him smile. She must have found the paper, the exact page, and searched it out until she came across the notice. She was curious and so is he. More than curious. He is fascinated.

He is also a little speechless to say the least, actually he’s thoroughly speechless which causes her to hesitate and the furrow on her brow is there before he can reassure her.

“Perhaps I should have-”

“Did you get butter on the popcorn?” he asks quickly, by way of reassurance.

Her worry goes as quickly as it came and she relaxes back with a grin. “What kind of question is that?”

“I take it back.”

“Hey, you know there’s a mysterious Mr. Kaplan in this movie. That’s a curious coincidence don’t you think?”

“Is it?” he asks with a mysterious smile of his own. “You’ll have to ask Mr. Kaplan about that some time.”

“I just might if I ever get the nerve up,” she mutters, making him chuckle at her honesty.

She leans into him long enough for him to know it’s not by accident just as the lights dim and Hitchcock’s classic springs to life. They’ve seen it before, but never like this. Alone and closed off from the world, even for a short while. Together. It’s difficult to ignore the charge running between them that sparks their awareness of the other. The nearness of their hands and if only one of them would reach out....

But not yet.

Not with their nervous energy as they wonder at these strange turning of events. Ones that she has turned to her liking. And his. Where it will lead them, they can’t possibly know. The answer remains elusive, especially when they are distracted by the two improbable lovers on screen, hiding amidst the monuments of granite, searching for any mode of escape.

Not unlike themselves.

…..

It’s becoming a habit.

Quite unexpected in a way that he now anticipates, looks forward to that sudden thrill when she materializes at his side or endures the disappointment when his solitude goes uninterrupted. There are times he forgets to ask the how or why of it until much later, for it is so natural, so incredibly easy to share these small nothings with her that now seem anything but small.

It is also easy to reciprocate.

“It’s getting late, Agent Keen, and the case, as they say, is closed.”

She sits up with a jolt at her desk and flinches as the muscles in her neck complain at the sudden movement.

“What are you doing here?”

“I ask myself that question on a regular basis and I assure you the answer is always the same.” He walks the rest of the way inside her office and drops into a chair, his fedora coming to rest on a knee. “You.”

The scowl is gone, replaced by something in her eyes he would not dare to name, something he wants to hold close for fear of losing it.

“I’m okay.”

That may be, but it was a disturbing case, the kind that will linger and rob them of sleep. The kind that makes this most difficult of jobs worth doing.

“I know you are, LIzzy,” he murmurs. “But I find myself a little out of sorts tonight and could use the company.

“And Dembe isn’t company?”

The trace of teasing in her voice makes him smile and he returns it in kind. “He’s gone off to BINGO with Mr. Brimley.”

She rolls her eyes and closes the file she has been reading, setting it firmly aside. At least for tonight. This is what they need, the solace they always seem able to find when it is only them. It is later, after dinner, when they are strolling about the neighborhood that she takes his arm and gives him a little pull.

“Where are you taking me?”

“There’s an ice cream place up ahead. If we hurry, we can get a scoop before they close.”

He makes no argument at either the prospect of ice cream or the pleasure of her company for awhile longer. Perhaps that is the reason for her suggestion, not wanting the evening to draw to a close.

But there goes his mind again, running away with him as his thoughts tangle in a knot. That is, until they enter the shop and he stops in his tracks, looking around and then back to where she is watching him.

“Remind you of anything?” she asks with a smile.

“Yes, I’d say so.”

If he didn’t know better he’d swear they were in the little bistro in Montreal. From the tiled walls and checkered pattern on the floor, antique mirrors and even the golden hue of the lighting.

“How long have you known about this place?”

“A few months. I was waiting for the right time to bring you here.”

God the way she can make his head spin and he says nothing more until they have their scoops in hand and take a seat at one of the small tables.

“You could ask me again, Raymond.”

The spoon stops halfway to his mouth and slowly makes a return trip to his bowl. “I don’t understand.”

“You asked a very important question that night in Montreal. You could ask me again.”

He swallows and replays their conversation in his mind, not for the first time since they shared a cocktail and he found himself falling.

“Why would I do that?”

Her words from that long ago night that he borrows, whispering them as she did then, and sees her smile ever so briefly.

“Ask me.”

“Tell me my profile, Elizabeth.”

As complicated as their lives have become, how treacherous the path that has led them here, but how simple it is to tell him.

“You’re a loner. You keep your distance,” she says, drawing from her first impressions of him, only now there is infinitely more. “Except with those you hold dear. Except with me.”

“Lizzy….”

“Even now, you long to hear it, but are afraid of the words you can’t possibly make yourself believe are real.”

He will never be able to ask what they are. He will never have to.

“I love you. That’s what I want you to know.”

Words that would have been impossible to believe in Montreal, but settle in his soul in an ice cream shop in DC. There are words of his own that he has held onto so tightly until this very moment.

“I-”

“I’m sorry to interrupt, but the shop is closing.”

The kid behind the counter gives them an apologetic shrug and Raymond laughs out loud. “That is excellent news.”

With a flurry, he drops a rather large tip on the table and takes her hand, leading her back onto the quiet sidewalk.

“Things do seem to have a way of interrupting us,” she comments rather dryly.

“Not this time.”

Not ever again if they have anything to say about it, but they will think about that later. It is all a blur when his hands cup her face and he kisses her as he has wanted for a very long time. As they have both wanted, time and again, but it took a little turn and twist of fate to close the circle.

“I love you,” he whispers, when they finally pull back.

“I know,” as her arms reach up to link behind his neck, waiting for his hands to drop to the small of her back, drawing her in closer. Just as she knew they would. “I’m a profiler, after all.”

#lizzingtonweek #Lizzington #the episode or scene that made you start shipping #the freelancer of course and the whispering and the profiling and on and on #aka that life ruining moment #one shot #fic #mine #a little late but finally a smidge of inspiration struck #Mr Kaplan meet Mr Kaplan from whence you were named #do me a solid and ignore all the mistakes #thanks and carry on

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