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biggest-stupidhead · 3 years ago

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AN: Here’s part 2 of my nurse reader and Levi request! It recently came to my attention that I was lowkey confused, I realize that you guys were asking for part 2 to my solider Levi and princess reader but I’ve been working on this one instead😂😂 So I’ll try and get to that other one soon.

ALSO 139 SPOILERS

Part 1

Summary: Levi’s dreams are coming true

Word Count: 4.6K

Warnings: mentions of scarring, blood, struggling to walk, kissing, angst

_______

The first few weeks were rough, he struggled to do the most mundane tasks, his fingers shook as he gripped a pen, his breathing was labored when he climbed stairs. He hated every second of it, he knew that this was part of being injured and recovering, but still, he felt weak and exposed. He also knew that it was unlikely that he would ever be the same as he was before his accident, this didn’t bother him too much. However, the thought of you only knew him as a frail wounded soldier rubbed him the wrong way.

He used this as motivation to better his condition, with the knowledge that he would not function the same as before. He quickly found out that holding a pen in his right hand was now much too difficult, so he began practicing with his left instead. He also realized that being in a wheelchair was not for him. He hated being pushed by anyone, mainly because Gabi once lost control and sent him rolling down a busy street. So he began to use a cane or crutch, he also found out that he tired much faster using this method. But he much preferred it to the chair.

After only three months of being discharged, Onyankopon had sniffed out an affordable space to open a modest cafe. The space also had a short set of stairs that led to a one-bedroom apartment above, which originally deterred Onyankopon from investing due to Levi’s state. But Levi had insisted that he would manage, so on a gloomy Thursday afternoon, they signed the papers and bought the place. Gabi and Flaco had been ecstatic to help decorate the space, scouring antique shops and pawn shops for the best (and cheapest) pieces of furniture.

Levi had watched the pair carry in the first table, a round wooden piece fit for two along with mismatched chairs to go along with it. At first, Levi disliked the way the furniture clashed, but he soon grew to like it. As the kids slowly carried in more each week the space began to feel homier. The kitchen in the back was teeming with tins of tea, recipes that Onyankopon swore by were tacked up on bulletin boards. Each weekend Onyankopon would bring the kids back with armloads of ingredients to test out the recipes he had been gathering while Levi had been in the hospital.

Soon they had perfected a menu, with croissants that were crispy on the outside and fluffy on the inside, sticky-sweet cinnamon rolls, and lemon tarts. Levi had never been a fan of sweets, but he knew that most people were, so each weekend they slaved over the stoves and made huge messes of flour and sugar. After two months the cafe was rather put together, tables and chairs of all sorts spread about the room in an inviting pattern. A chalkboard menu that was slowly expanding was sprawled out over the main counter, which was being stocked with pastries.

Onyankopon had brought in a box full of glassware that he had found on the side of the street, Levi had sneered at him as he watched him carefully wash them.

“What are you planning to do with those?” Levi asked as Onyankopon scrubbed the dust off of the glass.

“We can use them as centerpieces. Maybe we could cut some flowers from that field?” He said as he placed the glass vases and cups on the drying rack.

“I suppose,” Levi grumbled, happy that he hadn’t planned on using them as cups.

Finally, the day came when the menu was rounded enough and the furniture polished to open the shop. Levi hated to admit his nerves, but the truth was that his stomach was in knots and his heart was hammering out of his chest as he flipped the wooden sign on the door from closed to open.

Gabi had whooped and hollered, Falco had clapped ecstatically and Onyankopon popped open a bottle of champagne. Levi had given them the slightest of smiles as the group retreated behind the counter to wait for someone to wander in. Levi sat back on a stool that Falco had thrifted for behind the counter, his cane resting against his knee as he watched the door with a steady gaze.

“Can I be in charge of the pastries?” Gabi pleaded, big brown eyes wide as she clasped her hands together. Onyankopon shot a sideways look to Levi who inhaled sharply.

“As long as you don’t spit in the food.” Levi relented and Gabi leaped into the air in her excitement before jogging back into the kitchen to take stock.

“Falco you can carry food out.” Onyankopon offered and Falco nodded a gleam of determination in his golden eyes.

“I’ll run the register and Levi you can brew the tea.” Onyankopon looked pleased with himself after assigning the roles and Levi shrugged in indifference. The minutes ticked by and the door remained shut, the wide windows let the warm morning sun seep into the room, yet it carried no joy. Or at least it didn’t summon any deep feelings from within Levi. Just when Levi was about to give up and go brew himself his own tea before calling it a day, the door opened, the bell tinkling softly.

His mouth fell open when he saw you, in your plain clothes, a pair of dark dress pants and a silk dress shirt. Your purse was slung over your shoulder and in your hands was a bright bouquet of flowers. You pushed some stray strands of hair off of your face as you stepped into the cafe.

“(Y/n)! You made it!” Falco rushed around the counter and took your hand in his to lead you to the counter. You laughed warmly and allowed the young boy to drag you across the room.

“You’re the first person to come in.” Onyankopon mused softly as he stood behind the register, hands placed firmly on the counter. Your eyes widened in surprise before another warm grin passes placidly across your features.

“I am?” You asked, leaning on the counter and throwing a playful glance at Levi who was half hiding behind Onyankopon.

“It’s true.” Gabi groaned dramatically fanning her face, she had been fidgeting anxiously in the back for the past hour eager to serve guests.

“What can I get the good nurse?” Onyankopon steered the conversation back to business as usual.

“Ah, I’d love a cup of camomile and hmm maybe one of those lemon tarts.” You hummed, leaning over to examine the pastries that had been set on display in the glass containers.

“Excellent choice, that’ll be seven pounds.” Onyankopon slid the key into the keyhole in the register and the old thing sprang open, spilling some change. He chuckled as he awkwardly collected the spare change.

“Takes a gentle hand.” He explained as you smiled at him with the money in hand. Levi sighed and reached around Onyankopon to take the money as the larger man squatted down to retrieve the stubborn coins.

“Congratulations Captain, you’ve made this place your own.” You said, slipping the money into his hands, the pads of your fingertips brushing his calloused palm.

“Thank you, nurse (L/n).” He mumbled, trying in vain to fight off the butterflies swarming in his stomach.

“You’re so very welcome.” You watched as the rag-tag bunch began to hustle around the kitchen, Levi limped to the stove and began to boil the water in the kettle, Gabi was pulling on a pair of gloves before she began to inspect the pastries, looking for the best one. Falco gestured for you to follow him to that round table at the front of the store, right by the large window. You covered your mouth to hide an affectionate grin as he pulled the chair out for you. You sat and thanked him as you made yourself comfortable.

“I’ll bring your food to you miss.” He even did a bow which was when you could no longer hide your amusement.

“Falco, too much.” Onyankopon was also laughing behind the counter as the young boy scurried back to grab your pastry, which Gabi had carefully chosen just for you. Levi was now steeping the leaves in one of the mismatched sets of china that they had collected. Once the tea was steeped to perfection he set it on the tray with the pastry and Falco carefully picked it up, using both hands.

He set the steaming plates in front of you and you thanked him once more. You felt a bit awkward as the group watched with expectant eyes as you took the first bite. Your eyes lit up, it was just the perfect mixture of sweet and sour, the breading crumbling on your tongue.

You nodded and held a thumbs up which made Gabi clap her hands and squeal. Falco laughed and shook her shoulder, a giddy gleam in his eyes. Levi bit back another smile, not eager to let you pull them from his lips so easily. A few moments after you had begun to eat, the door tinkled open again, this time it was an older couple. They ordered and sat down near you, murmuring about the decor and such. As the morning wore on, more people began to wander into the shop, families and starry-eyed couples alike. You sat at your table, a small amount of paperwork from the hospital spread across the tabletop. You worked well into the afternoon, not necessarily because you needed to but because you wanted to catch Levi and check in on him.

You got your chance when the crowd ebbed and the orders slowed. The shop was once more empty and you could see the way that Levi limped between the sink and the stove. You gathered your courage and stood from your spot, leaving your purse and papers behind. Onyankopon was helping the kids in the back as they prepped for the pastries for tomorrow.

“I’ll dry if you wash.” You offered and Levi shot you a look over his shoulder.

“You don’t have to do that.”

“I’ve been taking up that table all day, let me earn my keep.” You teased, carefully stepping behind the counter and into the kitchen. He did not oppose as you sidled up beside him and began to towel dry the dishes he had already scrubbed clean. You worked like this for a few minutes in silence, the sound of dishes and sloshing of water filling the air between you.

“You seem to have healed well.” You commented as you accepted another clean plate.

“Hm.” He hummed, eyes trained on his task. You noted that he no longer wore bandages on his hand where his fingers had once been.

“How’s your knee?” You asked and he bristled a bit.

“....it’s fine.” He said after a slight pause.

“I can look at it if you’d like.” You offered and he inhaled slowly before releasing his breath in one long exhale.

“I’m fine.”

“Then let me look at your fingers, if you are doing dishes it’s likely to get infected.” You were a tad embarrassed to admit that you simply wanted to feel his skin against yours once more. But luckily Levi felt the same. He paused his work and grabbed a towel to dry his hands off before slowly extending them to you. You accepted them and ran your fingers over the callouses that decorated his palms before pulling his hand closer to your face to get a good look at the nubs where his fingers once were.

Just as you had thought, they were fully healed with puckering pink flesh from where stitches had once been.

“They look well, you should be fine, just...be mindful of how much time you spend washing the dishes.” You hummed, turning his hand over in yours to examine the back of it, old and new scars littered the expanse of his hands and up to his forearm.

“Okay.” His words were breathy and a bit choked. You snuck a glance up at his face and smiled sheepishly at him as you released his hand, which fell slowly back to his side. His cheeks were a soft pink, hints of a blush from the heat of your touch alone.

“I would suggest looking into some gloves.” You advised and he rolled his eyes.

“How am I supposed to wear gloves without my fingers?” He asked, holding his hand up as if to emphasize the loss.

“You seem to have adapted well, I’m sure you can figure something out.” You assured him with a nudge to his side before you fell back into the easy rhythm of drying the dishes.

____

You fell into a routine, stopping by when the cafe first opened to grab a cup of tea before your shift. Then you would go off to work and return later that afternoon to help Levi clean up. One rainy day you came in an hour later than usual, your scrubs soaked as you had forgotten an umbrella. Onyankopon and the kids had left earlier that week to go get the other cadets from Paradis, leaving Levi to tend to the shop alone.

As you entered you flipped the sign to closed and then wrung your sopping wet hair. Levi stood behind the counter, watching you with his one steel eye.

“What took you so long?” He asked before turning to do the dishes. You scoffed and looked back out at the window, the rain was pelting down mercilessly against the glass. But you said nothing, having learned long ago that arguing with him was pointless.

“What have you got for me?” You asked instead wanting to throw yourself into the work he had for you. He put you to work in the kitchen, taking stock and sweeping the floors until you thought that you would collapse. It wasn’t that the work that was taxing, but the work on top of the hours you had already clocked in on your feet at the hospital.

When he was pleased with your cleaning he waved you off with a dismissive flick of his wrist. Your clothes were still wet, as you watched him thumb through his earnings of the day in the register. You now knew a fraction of what he had put those cadets through all those years ago.

“Levi?” You tested, his name falling sweetly from your lips. He turned slowly, pausing his counting to give you his full attention.

“What is it?” He asked, placing the change back into the register.

“How would you like to get some dinner?” You offered with a shy smile. His eyes widened and he whipped around to shut the register.

“Only if you’re buying.”

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So now you sat across the table from him, your leg bouncing anxiously under the table inside the warm tavern. He seemed much less anxious, hands folded in front of him and his gaze void of any particular emotion.

“So...you come here often?” You tried to start the conversation, for the first time finding it difficult.

“No actually, I despise these places.” He answered literally and you nearly blanched, worried that you may have upset him or offended him in some way by bringing him here.

“What? We don’t have to stay then we can-” You were reaching for your purse but he held up a hand to stop you.

“It’s fine.” He assured you and you relaxed back into your seat.

“Why do you hate these places?” You asked out of curiosity.

“Not a fan of drunk men and shitty tavern food.” He shrugged indifferently. If he had been feeling braver he would have told you that it reminded him of his childhood and his mean drunk uncle.

“Ah, I see.” Your shoulders slumped and you cleared your throat to fill the silence.

“I don’t usually come to bars often either. Can’t trust me around beer.” You joked but Levi arched a thin brow.

“Why’s that?”

“Oh, my dad was a drunk and they say that it runs in the family. So I’ll never touch the stuff.” You shrugged and Levi was caught off guard with your honesty. He only hummed in response. Not long after that, the food arrived and the two of you ate in near silence, the sounds of forks scraping plates and wine sloshing in glasses. You paid for dinner and the two of you slowly made your way back down the street, which was slick with rainwater. You eyed Levi’s arm a bit longingly, wanting to feel his warmth pressed against you. You rubbed your biceps in an attempt to get the message across but he seemed clueless still. So you sighed and decided to take yet another risk, in one swift motion you slid your arm through his and he went rigid. His steps faltered and you looked over at him with a smirk curling at the corner of your lips.

“Is...this alright?” you asked and he nodded tensely before resuming his pace. You were grateful that his apartment was so close to the tavern, as it began to pour once more. But of course, you could not run because you feared that he would injure himself, so the two of you simply picked up your pace. Levi held the door for you and the two of you stumbled into the dark cafe, the tables and chairs looked almost like skeletons as you weaved your way through them to the back set of stairs.

“You can stay if you’d like.” he offered, a glimmer of uncertainty flashing over his features, clearly he was treading just as lightly as you were.

“I’d like that very much.” You grinned and the two of you climbed the stairs to his small apartment. The floorplan was open, the kitchen and living room were all in one space. The furniture was also mismatched here, he set about lighting candles even though you knew that the building had electricity. You wondered if it was a force of habit, all of his years on that island with no electricity, or if it was an attempt to set the mood. You said nothing all the same as the candles set the room aglow in warm light.

“It’s nice,” you commented and Levi hummed in agreement.

“It’s no barracks.” He said as he shook the match, a small trail of smoke curling up from his fingertips.

“Do you miss the military?” You asked as you slipped out of your shoes. He paused, a thoughtful look passing over his face as he pondered your question.

“At times, there are things that I miss. But no, I wouldn’t go back.” he shook his head, damp locks of raven hair falling in curtains over his brow.

“I can imagine.” You agreed as he slipped out of his coat and hung it on the coat rack, you did the same and he gestured for you to follow him to his room.

“I have some dry clothes you can borrow.” He said as he sifted through his drawers, pulling out a simple cotton shirt and a pair of loose-fitting pants. He held them out to you and you accepted them with a smile. You noted that the clothes were larger than the ones that he pulled out and you wondered who they belonged to.

“Whose clothes are these?” you asked out of curiosity and a pained look crossed his face. But you wondered if you had imagined it because of how quickly his features reset into his stoic mien.

“An old friend.” That was all he said before leaving you to change. You pulled the clothes on slowly and carefully knowing that these are likely one of the last things he had that belonged to his friend. Once you were done you stepped out of the room to find Levi already changed and boiling a kettle over his small stove. The shirt hung loosely off of your frame and you pulled the collar up gently as you crossed the room to stand by his side.

“Whatcha making?” You asked softly as he shot you a brief glance over his shoulder.

“Tea.” He said bluntly as he reached up into the cabinets and pulled out two mugs. You hummed and moved to take a seat at the modest table that was pressed against the back of his couch.

“Sounds good.” You said as you slipped into the seat, watching as he moved around his space. You noted the way his cane carried the majority of his weight, the way his fingers trembled as he poured the water to steep the tea leaves. You moved to get up and help him, but decided against it, reminding yourself that he was independent and could do these tasks on his own. Sure enough Levi finished the tea and carried the two cups over to you and placed them gently down on the table.

You thanked him quietly and blew a puff of air over the surface of the green tea, sending ripples through the liquid. He watched you with unreadable features, hands crossed on the table and his cane resting against his thigh.

“Tell me of your home.” You asked, daring a look over the rim of your cup. He inhaled and a far away look crossed his face as he thought of an appropriate response.

“As I knew it or as it is now?” He mumbled as he brought his own cup to his lips.

“Whichever you prefer.”

“Hm.” He hummed as he let the hot liquid sit in his mouth hoping to buy himself more time.

“Either way it was shitty.” He said after a few moments of silence. You set your cup down and gave him your full attention.

“We never had much, and I can’t say that it was a happy life.” He said, sneaking a glance at you to guage your reaction.

“I figured as much.” You commented and he shrugged.

“There isn’t much left of the landscape after the rumbling, but that’s everywhere now.” He grumbled, beginning to lose himself in his own memories.

“There used to be open fields and massive trees inside of the walls but…” He winced, flashes of blood and gnashing titan teeth, campfires, the heavy breathing of horses, explosions of thunder spears followed by the tangy metallic scent of blood.

“Levi?” Your voice was soft and filled with concern, he snapped out of his reverie, his fists clenched around his cup.

“Sorry.” He choked out, his tongue feeling fat and his mouth dry.

“It’s alright, I shouldn’t have asked.” You waved your hands and quickly took a sip of your tea.

“No, it’s not your fault.” He dismissed you, trying to calm the racing of his heart.

“I’m sure that you’re tired, I’ll see myself out.” You began to scramble, reaching for your things and pushing a stray strand of hair from your face. Levi wasn’t sure why, but he felt an urgent need to reach out and grab you. Before he could dismiss the sense, his hand had already shot out and caught your wrist.

You looked back at him with wide eyes, not moving a muscle. He stayed still as well, his fingers digging into the soft flesh of your arm. If he was hurting you, you showed no sign.

“Don’t….it’s storming.” He said stupidly, as he stood keeping a hold on your wrist. Once he was on his feet he took a step towards you and his hand slipped down to intertwine his fingers with your own.

“O-Okay.” You squeezed his fingers and he returned the gesture, eyes blank although they darted between your eyes and lips every few seconds. You took a step closer so that the tips of your feet touched his, your breaths mingling together. Finally his eyes settled on your lips and you unconsciously licked them as you wondered what he would taste like. Green tea no doubt, just as bitter and tangy as his personality seemed to be.

You let out a shaky breath as he reached out, the back of his hand brushing that pesky piece of hair off of your cheek. He hesitated but gently grasped your face in his calloused palm, his thumb stroking over your cheekbone. You carefully broke free of his grasp on your hand so you could smooth down the fabric of his shirt above his heart.

He swallowed thickly before lifting his chin, eyes trained on your lips. You tilted your head and met him the rest of the way, your lips slotting together perfectly. His other hand came to rest on the other side of your face, and you whimpered. You opened your mouth wider, your tongue slipping past his lips to taste him. He did taste like green tea after all, bitter and overwhelming. You couldn’t get enough, your hands slipping up the column of his throat to find the shaven underside of his hair.

To your surprise he pulled away with a grunt, grey eyes wide and surprised. You looked back just as shocked but then you smiled. He blinked at you for a moment before pulling away completely and turning his back to you and running a hand through his locks.

“I’m sorry, that was inappropriate of me.” He apologized and you shook your head.

“I actually quite liked it. You aren’t my patient anymore Levi.” He remained silent, his back turned to you in shame.

“You’re not even a Captian anymore, you’re just a man.” You assured him and he turned to look at you now, eyes filled with a certain grief you couldn’t quite place.

“Is that how you see me then?” His voice was flat and you couldn’t tell if he was offended or pleased with the response.

“No, I see you as a good man, who has been hurt one too many times. Someone who needs a….companion.” You settled and he finally faced you once more.

“I shouldn’t have done that to you.” He grunted, steadying himself on the table.

“It’s okay Levi, I-I like you.” You felt like you were tripping over yourself to assure him that he was not crossing any lines.

“....” He remained silent, those sad grey eyes trained on your face as your chest heaved, panic quickly raising.

“I promise you I’m fine. I’ve actually been wanting to kiss you for some time now.” You sheepishly admitted, rubbing the side of your arm.

“I know.” He groaned his hands coming to hide his eyes and you felt even more distressed, you should’ve known better.

“Look, Levi I want to be with you, and if you want the same then we can be. You don’t have to-”

“Damn it (Y/n) I want to, but I don’t” He let out another frustrated grunt before his fist came down hard on the table, the cups rattling loudly at the disturbance.

“I don’t want you to be chained to someone like me.” He admitted, eyes averted.

“You don’t have to feel that way, I’m choosing you.”

“Promise?” His eyes finally met yours and you nodded curtly, a look of determination and confidence plastered to your face.

“Promise.” You assured him, sitting back down at the table to show that you weren’t going anywhere.

“And if you bother me too much then I’ll leave.” You teased, but he seemed to take it literally, sinking back into his own seat and nodding in understanding.

“That’s good.” He sighed, shoulders sagging in relief.

“I really should go home, think about this and we’ll talk tomorrow.” You stood, leaning over the table to peck a kiss to his lips. He nodded and watched with tired eyes as you left his apartment.

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fiddlepickdouglas · 3 years ago

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Viva Las Vegas, Pt. 12 - Willie Alone

Summary: Sunset Curve AU, Willex, will he make it?, 5.2k

@trevor-wilson-covington is the bestie who makes these lovely edits, we stan supportive friends

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10, Part 11

Day one down with no Caleb. Purple began to border the horizon. Hours of skating broken up with brief rests had Willie pretty tired. Sheldon seemed to be holding up pretty alright, even if he was stuck in the funny makeshift carrier Willie had made from a t-shirt to wrap around himself. Whatever town he’d stopped in was a little ways from the interstate, but it was nice being in a smaller place than a city for once. He actually couldn’t remember if he’d ever been to one.

Willie skated up to a cafe that doubled as an ice cream parlor and let Sheldon down on the ground. He hooked a leash to the cat’s collar but let it drag along the ground, knowing he would be followed. Entering the cafe, he sat at a table and leaned on its surface in exhaustion.

The night before already felt like so long ago. He’d spent all day debating whether it was smart to skate along the highway because it was an easier route to follow, or if he should take some back roads because they had less traffic and likely no cops. Seeing that shed light up was unforgettable. Willie hadn’t watched too many movies since he’d lost his memories, but it was a moment that had definitely felt like he was in one. Did he count as a fugitive now? He sort of liked the flavor of mystery and adventure that came with it.

Sheldon was up on his hind legs, pawing at Willie’s knees to let him climb up. Sitting back so his cat could leap into his lap, Willie cradled him with one arm. He thought about getting some ice cream and realized that he already missed the chamoy candy from Escobar’s bodega. It would’ve been nice to have a few more snacks on him. He’d get something in a little bit - standing up was going to make him feel sore.

He wondered how Alex was doing. He’d chosen to go to L.A. in the hopes of at least finding him and the rest of his friends. That sense of closeness and familiarity that Willie had felt when they were at the Pearl had become everything to him. Even Julie and Flynn would be great to meet again - in fact, he wished he could give them something in return for allowing him the second chance he’d needed to find Alex. Then he could figure out where to go from there.

Finally getting up from his seat, he approached the counter for some ice cream, leaving Sheldon held down by putting a chair leg through the leash handle. A girl who looked too young to be working there came to serve him.

“Hi, what can I get for you?” she said politely.

Willie looked down at all the flavors underneath the glass. What he wanted to do was climb inside and get the cool-off he really needed.

“Uhhh...how about the - ” his eyes narrowed to be sure he was getting it right. “ - the swass?” As far as he could see it claimed to be a white chocolate flavor with cayenne pepper in it. He’d never heard of a spicy ice cream before.

The girl giggled behind the glass.

“How many scoops?” she asked, barely containing laughter.

“Two scoops, in a waffle cone,” he said, watching as she got it prepared. “What’s so funny?”

They traded hands as she gave him the cone and he gave her cash.

“Swass is short for sweaty ass. It’s a summer special.”

Willie snorted and laughed along with her.

“Nice!” he said, pointing a finger to accentuate the word. She held a handful of coins out to him. “Don’t worry about it, keep the change.”

Mood now lifted by his ‘swass’ ice cream (which was surprisingly delicious once he began licking it), he went back to the table. Sheldon kept watching him, eyes hungry for the unfamiliar substance. Willie watched in mild entertainment for a moment as he continued eating. Then he got the idea to move the ice cream around, seeing Sheldon’s eyes follow wherever it went. It made him giggle.

Holding the cone within reach of Sheldon’s face, he let the cat sniff at it for a moment before daring to take a lick. After a few more licks, Sheldon sat back with his mouth wide open in shock, and Willie felt bad for laughing.

“Did you get a brain freeze, buddy?”

Sheldon looked betrayed, and crawled underneath the chair and began cleaning his face. Some noise caught Willie’s attention and he looked up to see a small TV set up in a corner of the cafe. The news was on, and while he couldn’t clearly make out what was being said, he saw footage of a building in flames while a fire department was trying to put it out. Fear clenched in his chest as he recognized it. Lifting Sheldon’s leash, he immediately got up from his chair and headed out the door.

So avoiding public places was going to be the plan from now on. He didn’t know what was being told on that news story but considering that was definitely the shed from behind Caleb’s place...arson had awful consequences, and Willie didn’t like his odds. It certainly put a wedge in his plan to find shelter, but he could get creative.

Grabbing his board, Willie skated through the streets and checked out his best options while finishing his ice cream. It was getting late, and businesses were closing quickly. He didn’t fancy staying anywhere outside, mostly for the safety of his cat. After getting a good look around the town (or most of it at least), Willie had to pick between the movie theater or the laundromat.

He thought of trying the theater. The seats would be perfect to sleep in, and the dark stillness of an empty theater at night sounded so relaxing. But there was the question of getting in without having to buy a ticket or being kicked out after a movie was finished. That was likely to cause enough fuss with the employees for them to identify him. Scratch that off the list.

Willie made his way to the laundromat, albeit unwillingly. It was the only place open for twenty-four hours with no one to bother him about why he was there. As he went inside with Sheldon, he peered up at the yellow lights. There had to be a dark corner somewhere. A handful of loads were going, and they were all spread out so that the noise would bother him no matter what. However, a door toward the back caught his attention and he checked to see if it was locked.

To his surprise, it opened to reveal an empty office. He flipped on the light to get a better look. There was only a desk, chair, and empty bookshelves, as if whatever it was used for had been decommissioned or moved elsewhere. Dragging a finger over the desk, a layer of dust came off. The room didn’t look like anyone would check for a person in there, so Willie decided it was where he’d make camp.

Luckily enough, there was a lost and found area with the laundry of people who’d somehow forgotten to pick up their loads. Finding a blanket in the pile, Willie made sure Sheldon was inside the office with him before turning the light out and shutting the door. It blocked out the noise of the machines well enough. Using his backpack as a pillow, he laid down and pulled the blanket over him as best he could and sighed.

Thinking back to earlier when he’d celebrated being a fugitive...well, it certainly had its cons. As Sheldon nestled on top of his legs, Willie chuckled softly and tried to focus on falling asleep. The backwards dream was bound to happen again, and he wondered if anything about it would change now that he knew what it was really about. Aside from his memories of Alex and his dad, it was the best motivator he had now. He closed his eyes and let the sound of purring lull him to sleep.

Day three without Caleb. Note to self: never underestimate the amount of sunscreen, food and water needed on a trip, and bring a map. Packing light was a mistake. Willie was avoiding the highway now, but had taken a wrong turn somewhere after passing through that small town and thought he’d found somewhere to get back on track, but only ended up more turned around than ever. Now he was skating for miles on some back road with no cars or civilization in sight and was getting worried. He was rationing the water between him and Sheldon, and now that it was high afternoon and the July sun was beating down, he was worried. The food he had packed for himself was already gone, and he was pretty sunburnt.

He’d originally decided not to hitchhike because he didn’t want to be recognized and turned in, but now he was considering it was safer than wherever he was right then. If the laundromat had been rough, rest stops were much less desirable to sleep in.

Slowing his board down, he moved to the side of the road for a minute and set Sheldon down on the ground so they could both stretch their legs. These past few days had been hard, but he was determined to never go back to Caleb. He felt more like himself and a new person all at once, more than he had ever felt since he’d lost his memories. Even with desperation creeping under his skin, he didn’t regret it one bit. Sheldon rubbed against his legs and Willie opened his backpack and dug for some food.

“Here you go, buddy,” he murmured, laying the food down and massaging the back of the cat’s neck. “You sure are handling this better than me.”

All he got in response was content purring. Willie was grateful he wasn’t entirely alone. It wasn’t a usual thing for cats to travel, right? He wondered what made Sheldon so special.

Pulling out his water bottle, Willie saw that it was down to a mere gulp. As if to punctuate his disappointment, his stomach growled loudly. This was beginning to feel like more than a low point. The pain and fatigue started increasing as he sat in the dust, the notion of how lost he was settling in uncomfortably. Shaking the water bottle, Sheldon perked up and watched him pour some into his hand before licking it up.

Finishing the last of it, Willie was hardly satisfied. It was better than nothing. The heat was getting unbearable, though, and with how tired he felt it was a hard debate whether he should take a nap or keep trying to find shelter.

Stubbornly trying not to imagine the worst, Willie reminded himself of his goal. Find Alex, find somewhere to stay, and play it by ear from there. He even teased the thought of finding out if he still had a family. That didn’t sound likely, especially with the amnesia factored in, but this was the first time he could dare to dream bigger than the small life he’d had back in Vegas. If he did make it, it was all worth the strain he was feeling right now.

If - such a laconic, dooming word.

His legs felt too much like jelly to attempt riding again, though, and he pulled Sheldon into his lap. The cat made a few funny chirping noises at him.

“Sorry, buddy, I’m too tired,” he apologized. All the rubs against his shirt couldn’t renew his strength fast enough. Willie felt tears well up in his eyes and he couldn’t tell if they were from fear or exhaustion. Only a couple fell and immediately dried on his face.

He tried summoning the memory of Alex’s eyes, letting the ocean waves bring hope in a dire attempt to fight everything else. Their rhythm and focus remained preserved so well in his mind. If the world was made of hard, painful, unbearable things, Alex was the softness of respite. From bandaging his hand to running his fingers through his hair in comfort, there was a gentleness that made Willie believe in something greater than one day in Sin City. The waves grew and he dreamed of being washed clean and refreshed and like he could leave his soul at the shore forever and never be hurt.

They crashed over him again and again, like a lullaby. The sensation dulled the pain until he was numb. Nothing remained but the beautiful sea of green before him.

Willie didn’t know when he passed out or for how long, but he was jolted awake by feeling his body hitch up and down, like he’d gone over a bump. He heard the running of an engine and opened his eyes. A window beside him was down, and he looked directly into his own reflection in the rearview mirror of a truck. Turning to his left, he saw a person at the steering wheel through bleary eyes.

“Dad?” he muttered thoughtlessly.

“Sorry,” the voice of an older woman spoke. “Not your dad.”

Willie only blinked as he tried to orient himself. The woman had salt and pepper hair styled in a mullet and looked coarse from years of hard work.

“Pardon me for being blunt, but what the hell were you doing out there?” she rebuked. “With a cat!”

He immediately sat up in alarm, looking for Sheldon.

“He’s fine,” she assured. Willie nodded as he saw the cat sitting on top of a blanket in the back seat next to his skateboard.

“It’s a complicated story,” he told her.

“I bet it’s complicated,” she muttered in slight consternation.

There was a few minutes of silence as Willie’s mind tried to understand where he was.

“Don’t try to thank me,” the woman began speaking again. “It was only so easy to put you up in my truck after I saw you had no water, no food, nothing but a few changes of clothes and a wad of cash.”

“Thank you,” Willie said, embarrassed he hadn’t said it quicker.

“I said don’t thank me; I could’ve taken all your cash.”

He looked at her anxiously until her lip curled.

“Don’t worry, you’ve still got all of it.”

This lady was abrasive, but at least she was kind.

“I’m Bessie,” she said. “And if the name is right in your wallet, you’re William. Bet you go by Willie though.”

“How did you guess?”

“You don’t look like a William kind a’ kid.”

It was amazing how she could hold his attention so well without taking her eyes away from the road. Her intelligence was effective. It kind of made him smile.

“You hungry?” she asked. Her head nodded in the direction of a bag sitting between them. He smelled chicken and he hesitated for a moment, eyes darting between the food and her. “Go on, you can have some. I can eat more when we get to Roy’s.”

“Who’s Roy?” Willie asked, carefully pulling out a chicken wing and biting into it.

“It’s a motel. Me and my husband own it. And it looks like you’ll be our only guest tonight.”

“Oh,” he said through a mouthful of food.

“I apologize, but you need a shower,” she told him, wrinkling her nose. Willie only continued to chew in silence and bowed his head. He’d forgotten about that while he’d been focused on skating his way to freedom.

“So where is this motel at?” he asked after a few moments.

“It’s in Amboy. We’re a little ghost town out here. There’s only five of us, the rest are tourists. Sometimes we get Harrison Ford coming through.”

Willie raised his eyebrows, guessing it was impressive trivia. There were numerous names people used that he seemed to be expected to know, but unfortunately most of them he couldn’t keep track of. He silently ate his chicken, relishing in the taste.

“We’re almost there, so just sit tight and keep eating,” Bessie said.

He noticed she hadn’t mentioned anything about recent news, and while it was possible she knew about it, Willie didn’t think she would hold back her commentary if she did. He decided not to bring it up.

Not even ten minutes later they pulled up to the retro motel. Movement was agony, every bit of his exposed skin on fire. Sheldon lifted his head and meowed in curiosity as Willie opened the back door to get his things. Pulling his backpack over his shoulder, he scooped up Sheldon with one arm and grabbed his board with the other. He felt nervous claws immediately dig into his shoulder and he tried to soothe his cat the best he could.

“Shhh, buddy, it’s okay,” he whispered. It was a good thing he had a leash on.

“I have never seen a cat travelling with a skater before,” Bessie said as he followed her into Roy’s. “The things you get in this little town.”

She took him up to the main desk and pulled out a reservation book, licking her finger to turn the pages.

“Alright, let’s get you a room,” she murmured.

“I can pay to stay here,” Willie said shakily. She’d practically saved his life, and he hadn’t exactly counted how much he took from Caleb, but added onto his own money it was quite a stash. Bessie looked at him thoughtfully.

“If you insist,” she surrendered without argument.

Sheldon was sniffing everything and peering around, obviously wanting to explore.

“You can put him down for a minute, I’ll keep an eye on him,” Bessie told Willie, handing him a key and a bottled substance after he let Sheldon go. “You get yourself washed up and put this aloe on. I suggest you stay for a few days at least so those burns don’t get worse.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Willie heard himself say. Too late, he reconsidered the use of ‘ma’am’ but Bessie only smirked and shook her head. He wondered how often she picked up strangers and set them up at her motel, because she was so well prepared. Glancing at his cat, who was content to swat at some flies that had made their way inside, he went toward the room that matched the number on the key.

Showering hurt, even with cold water, but Willie tried to bear it as best he could. At least applying the aloe wasn’t too bad. He was glad he hadn’t skated with his shirt off because it wouldn’t have been any fun to try reaching certain parts of his back. Looking out the window of his room as he got dressed, the sunset was in its late stages. For a while, he simply sat on his bed and hugged his knees to his chest, watching it go down.

Now that he had time to slow down, Willie felt a huge weight finally lift off of his shoulders. He hadn’t been allowing himself to think about it as much since he was so focused on being on the move and trying to stay safe while he had Sheldon with him. Actually, he didn’t even remember when he’d crossed state lines. But he felt a little safer now. Caleb didn’t care enough to come after him all the way out here, he didn’t think. Burning down the shed had been a little dramatic, he admitted, but once people forgot the news it was probably miniscule in Caleb’s eyes compared to everything Willie had lost.

For a minute, a ball of anger grew inside his chest and Willie closed his eyes and breathed deeply in an attempt to cool it down. It was probably a good idea to take Bessie’s advice and stay a while since he was being given the opportunity. He got up and went back out to see how Sheldon was.

The cafe was quiet except for Bessie speaking on the phone with someone. Sheldon was near the cafe counter where someone had set out a bowl of water and a can of tuna. Willie went over to him and knelt down to pet him. Any motion was still a pain, but he made himself ignore it. Footsteps sounded from behind the counter and Willie looked up to see a large man with a mustache peering down at them. He appeared to be from somewhere in the Pacific Islands.

“You’ve got a nice cat,” the man said.

“Thanks,” Willie replied with a small smile as he continued running his hand from head to tail.

“Can I get you some water?”

“Oh...uh, yeah, thanks.” It was going to take a while to get used to people being kind. As the man left briefly and returned with a glass, Willie graciously took it and sat at a table. Like that, the man had disappeared and he almost questioned whether he’d actually been there.

He saw the napkins on the table and pulled one out of the dispenser. The only thing he’d actually learned how to make with origami was those little frogs, and he never seemed to use a proper piece of paper when he got the urge. Now, he didn’t have anyone to gift it to if he did make one. He sure wasn’t going to hand one to Bessie.

Just as he thought that, she came over to sit across from him.

“So what’s the plan, kid?” she asked, folding her hands casually.

Willie looked at her for a moment, unsure what to explain.

“Come on, something’s gotta motivate you to be going cross country on a skateboard,” she pointed out.

“Well,” he sighed. “I’m trying to get to Los Angeles.”

“And the bus just didn’t do it for you?”

Willie sat back, dumbfounded. Part of him knew that there were bus routes across the states, but he just hadn’t remembered that.

“Yeah, so fun fact about me: I only have a year and a half of memory, and I forgot about busses.”

Bessie raised her eyebrows, and then furrowed them.

“I’ve seen some things, I’ve seen some things, and I have seen some things. You are not something I have seen yet. I won’t ask for what your whole story is, but I can only imagine the convoluted circumstances that got you in your position.”

Willie bowed his head, unsure how he should respond. It was clear that she truly wasn’t aware of the news, though.

“Do you even know what you’ll do when you get to LA?” she asked.

“Not much,” he said, shaking his head. “But I have a start.”

“Please tell me you don’t plan to skate the rest of your way out of here.”

“Well, do I have any other way to get there?”

Bessie pursed her lips as she considered his words.

“I’d have my husband drive you out, but he just went out of town to do some business. We’re actually trying to sell the town, so once he finishes up his deal this place will be out of our hands. I can’t keep you here for long.”

The news made Willie realize just how inconvenient it was for her to have pulled him from the side of the road, and more guilt rose in his chest. He couldn’t keep getting in everyone’s way just by showing up.

“How soon is he supposed to be back?”

“A couple days. And then we’ll spend the rest of this week cleaning up and heading out.”

Feeling something touch his leg, Willie saw Sheldon had finished his can of tuna and come over to him. Picking the cat up and holding him in his lap, he looked at Bessie.

“You’ve been really generous,” he said. “You practically saved my life. I don’t know how to thank you.”

She shrugged.

“Ain’t much you can do but say it, and that’s okay. And maybe just rest enough so you’re in good shape before you get back on the road. Can you do that?”

“Yeah.” Willie nodded emphatically.

“Alright. Well, I’m going to turn in, but you hang in here as late as you like, although I don’t know what you would do.”

Willie only smiled as she got up from the table. He did the same, carrying Sheldon with him to the room. It was going to be nice having a bed and not being on the move from the second he woke up. Even with his skin continually on fire, he was able to fall asleep the moment his head hit the pillow.

The next day he woke up and it was already noon. Sheldon was meowing to be let out the door, intermittently coming up to Willie and nudging him with his head.

“Yeah, I get the hint,” Willie laughed.

He quickly got himself together before hooking the leash to Sheldon and heading into the cafe. There were two men he hadn’t seen the day before eating lunch. It was probably a good idea to eat, considering he had slept through breakfast. The large man with the mustache was at the cafe counter, and Willie was silently relieved he hadn’t hallucinated him. It appeared he had set out the bowls of water and food already for Sheldon, who immediately went to it.

“Hello, little man,” he said as Willie came toward him. “What can Big Bo get for you?”

“Are you Big Bo?” Willie immediately loved the name.

“Absolutely.”

“Well, I could eat anything, what do you recommend?”

Big Bo thought for a minute. And then he smiled.

“I’m gonna make you a nice burrito.”

Nodding and smiling, Willie watched him leave as he went to a table and immediately began folding napkins into frogs. After a while his face got itchy, and he realized his skin had begun peeling from the burns. That was going to be fun to handle. Big Bo brought his burrito over and then tried getting attention from Sheldon.

Most of the rest of the day was pretty boring. Willie rotated between doodling on napkins, playing card games with the deck Bessie pulled out from the motel office, and walking around with Sheldon. He was reminded to consistently use the aloe vera he’d been given. Boredom rose to the point where he helped Big Bo deep clean various appliances behind the counter in the cafe. By the time they had finished, it was just time to eat a late dinner and Willie was tired out from all the cleaning.

He took a shower and tried to lightly scrub off all of the dead skin. Sheldon curiously poked his head in and got a faceful of water, causing him to make a surprised noise and run off. Willie couldn’t help but laugh with a twinge of pity as he peeked out and saw his cat glaring at him from the bed. Honestly, he wouldn’t have managed to get this far without Sheldon. It felt good not to be alone, but also feel free to just be himself and still be followed out of sheer loyalty.

The bed was already so comfortable and inviting it made Willie sad that he couldn’t stay longer. Maybe in the future he could recreate something like this place - small and friendly, where he was always prepared to help poor strangers find shelter. There wasn’t much to do here, but he could play around with ideas for his own thing. He’d definitely add a skate park, though. A strange thought occurred where he remembered Caleb’s hotel being called the Desert Oasis - the irony of it all couldn’t have been more obvious.

For the first time in weeks, Willie had a peaceful sleep.

A couple days later, Bessie’s husband still wasn’t back in town. She didn’t seem too worried about it, but Willie could feel tensions building up for himself. He was slowly running out of ways to entertain himself while his burns were finally toning down into tan lines, and he was afraid he would wear out his welcome while she was waiting for the town to be sold. His backpack was already packed and ready to go, but it was mid-morning and he still felt unsure about when was a good time to leave. For now, he simply doodled over the top of the comics in the newspaper.

The door of the cafe opened. Willie didn’t bother looking up but he overheard the conversation.

“Well, I am surprised to see you here again,” Bessie was saying.

“Hello, Bess, how’s it been?” A man’s voice was heard speaking. Willie couldn’t tell where he recognized it from.

“Slow. Buster’s been out of town. I guess we oughta tell you we’re leasing the place so you’re not in for a surprise next time you want to fly out here.”

“Leasing the town? Well, that’s a shame.”

“Any day now.”

“Any day now? If I’d known this would be the last stop I make here, I would’ve planned better. I was just gonna go out to the salt flats for a bit and then hightail it back to LA.”

Willie peeked over his shoulder. He still couldn’t see the man’s face, but he felt his heart rate go up at the mention of Los Angeles. Not wanting to appear rude, though, he continued with his doodling and tried to tune out what they were talking about. Eventually the man left the cafe and it was difficult to tell if he was going to come back or not. If it took until later that evening, he was willing to wait to find out.

In the meantime, he let Big Bo teach him how to make his special dinner rolls. The man was very quiet but he clearly loved making food and it made the process more fun. Also, Willie enjoyed the way he got called “little man” because it came out sounding so laid back and welcoming. While they waited for the dough to set, Big Bo showed him some tattoos he had and explained the symbolism of each one.

“This represents Nāmaka, the Hawaiian goddess,” he said, pointing to a woman’s face surrounded by ocean waves on his bicep. “But to me she really represents the course of life. The tide goes in, and the tide goes out, and the good things and bad things do the same. What you and me do is just ride that wave wherever it takes us in life.”

Listening intently, Willie thought back to Alex’s eyes and the countless times he used the visual of ocean waves to bring him calm amid the turbulence. Big Bo had spoken a simple concept, but it was something more powerful than anything Caleb had ever said. Something in Willie’s heart felt like he could finally find a purpose outside of all of this chaos.

After they had finished making the rolls, Willie sat eating one while petting Sheldon when he heard the door to the cafe open again. Footsteps approached and suddenly, a man Willie recognized had put his leg up on the chair across from Willie and was leaning on his knee casually. Surprise seemed to slap him over the face when he realized who he was. Indiana Jones, Han Solo, the Fugitive himself looked down at him in a bomber jacket and jeans.

“So my friend Bessie tells me you’re in a rough spot, kid,” Harrison Ford said. Willie looked back in shock. “I’ve got my own plane out there right now. You want a ride?”

#julie and the phantoms #jatp #fanfic #jatp fanfic #willex #alive au #sunset curve #alex mercer #willie #luke patterson #reggie peters #bobby wilson #julie molina #caleb covington #sheldon the cat #harrison ford #viva las vegas #willie alone #fiddlepickdouglas

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ragingbookdragon · 4 years ago

Text

The Bonnie Banks Of Loch Lomond

A Connor Kenway x Reader One-Shot

Word Count: 2,440 Warnings: Angst

Author’s Note: Fun fact, I am from a family of sailors and we all carry challenge coins on our persons! Issuing challenges is fun! Enjoy! -Thorne

She wielded the knife with a practiced ease, slicing and dicing the many vegetables she’d laid out the hour before. Since she and Connor had gotten together, she spent more and more time at the manor, ultimately staying the night most days. Feeling it only fair for him putting up with two people in his home, she made Achilles most of his meals as repayment. Of course, she had no problems with it, with Ellen handling most of the tailoring needs and her waitressing job in the evenings, she didn’t have much to do during the day, so it kept her busy. A knock sounded from the front door and she looked up, calling, “Mister Davenport! Can you-” His figure passed by the door as he griped,

“I’ve got it.” She huffed a laugh, glancing back down as she heard the door open. Footsteps sounded into the dining room and Achilles addressed, “(Y/N), it’s for you.” She drew her eyes from the chopping board to see an well-weathered man in a whaler suit standing behind Achilles; she smiled, wiping her hands on the rag at her waist and greeted,

“Nathaniel!” (Y/N) walked around the table, arms outstretched as she pulled him into a hug. “Oh, it’s been so long since I’ve seen you!” He curled his arms around her, patting her back before pulling away, hands clasping the sides of her arms.

“Look at you lass, all grown…I remember when you were just a wee one.” She snorted, then turned to Achilles, introducing them.

“Achilles, this is an old family friend Nathaniel Whitlock. Nathaniel, this is Achilles Davenport, the lord of the manor.” The two shook hands and (Y/N) asked, “What brought you this far out Nathaniel? Last I remember, you and Uncle Gideon were navigating for the shipping company.” The man nodded, but the look on his face turned grim and he murmured,

“You might want to sit lass.” She furrowed her brows, resisting the urge to cross her arms over her chest as she inquired,

“Why? Has something happened?” Nathaniel opened his mouth, then he shut it before letting out a sigh and reaching into his pocket, pulling out a small pouch. He handed it to her, watching as unlaced the ties and flipped it over, the contents falling out into her hand. (Y/N) looked at it, muttering, “This is Uncle Gideon’s challenge coin.” She grinned, recounting, “Oh I remember as a child when I would watch him slap it on the table when he was with the crew. All the laughter and groans…those were good times.” She looked at the man. “Uncle Gideon never goes anywhere without this…why do you have it?” Nathaniel grimaced, explaining with a grieved tone,

“Their ship…it…was attacked by pirates off the coast of Saint Augustine a few weeks ago.” He let out a sigh. “Another cargo ship collected the personal belongings left behind and brought them to us for determination of the surviving families.” He met her eyes and said, “I recognized the coin when I saw it.” Her jaw went slack, and he lamented, “I’m so sorry lass.” (Y/N) could barely form a coherent thought, but managed to blurt,

“Uncle Gideon is dead?” Nathaniel nodded and she looked between the coin and him before weakly fumbling for the chair beside her. Achilles leaned over, pulling at the leg with his cane and she collapsed into it, bringing a hand to her chest. He took the seat beside her, reaching into his pocket to pull another pouch out, this time heavier, obviously full of the pension as she was owed.

“He is…but I know for a fact that he fought until the end.” A mixture of emotions ran through her at his words, pride, then anguish. “You’ve been compensated a three hundred pounds.” (Y/N) glanced at the pouch, then caught sight of the gold ring on his finger, opting to ask instead,

“Have you any children Nathaniel?” His eyes widened with confusion, but he nodded,

“I do…two boys and a girl.” She swallowed thickly, nodding at the pouch.

“Take it back to them…I’ve no need of it.” His retort was cut off as she reached over, laying a hand on his. “Nathaniel, I want you to have this. I already have enough money to take care of me, but I want to make sure your children do too.” He regarded her a moment then looked to the pouch, huffing a pitiful laugh as he muttered,

“You’ve always looked out for others…just like Gideon.” (Y/N) felt her lips pull in a sad smile and he asked, “Do you have someone looking out for you?” His words brough Connor’s face to her mind and she inhaled deeply, nodding her head.

“I do…he tries to spoil me a lot, but I won’t let him spend money on frivolous things.” Nathaniel snorted, but it quickly died out as he reached up to wipe his eyes.

“Then he can rest easy knowing you’re being taken care of.” She said nothing in return, simply watching him stow the pouch back in his jacket. After a moment of silence, he inquired, “Is there an inn here? It’s too late to ride back to the city now.” (Y/N) cleared her throat as she tucked the coin in her pocket, replying,

“There’s one down the way…I’ll show-” Achilles waved at her and he quickly interrupted,

“I’ve been needing to check on something at the inn. I’ll show you the way Nathaniel.” The two started for the door when he turned, addressing (Y/N). “You go on home girl.” She dropped her gaze to her feet, feeling the burning in her eyes as she said,

“Thank you.”

A Few Hours Later:

He’d never be one to outright admit that he was tired, but with each step he took, feeling the aching pain shoot up his spine, he was pretty close to an admission. The front door of the manor came into view and all he could think about was taking a hot bath, pulling on some clean clothes, and collapsing across her lap as she giggled at him and asked if he’d had a long day. It made him smile, and as he opened the door, he called, “I have returned.” There wasn’t an immediate response, which made his brows furrow, then he heard the rapping of a cane from the upper level, and Achilles appeared at the staircase. He stepped down slowly, returning,

“I see you’re back in one-piece Connor.” The assassin rolled his eyes as his mentor stood in front of him.

“I always come back in one piece.” Achilles chuckled before moving into the dining room, Connor following behind. “Where is (Y/N)?” The older man paused, then settled into one of the chairs, murmuring,

“She received some bad news from a family friend a few hours ago…I sent her home so she could be alone.” Connor’s eyes went wide, and before he could move his feet, Achilles added, “Go clean up before you go see her, you smell like the outside.” His face pinched, but he obeyed, quickly running upstairs to freshen up.

Some Time Later:

The leaves crunched under his boots with each step, and though it wasn’t cold, he curled his arms tighter into his coat as he hurried to her cottage. Connor couldn’t deny that Achilles words had frightened him, mind thinking of the worst news that (Y/N) could’ve received. He neared her home, stopping in his tracks as he caught sight of her sitting against a log beside fire she’d built, one hand clutched into a fist, the other curled around the neck of a bottle. He stared at her face, eyes focused on the flames before her, lips mouthing words. The licking and crackling of the fire hid her sounds, but the closer he moved, the louder her voice became, and he realized she was singing. Her voice drifted into the air, full of emotion, and it stopped him in his tracks once more as he felt his heart become heavy. “The wee birdies sing and the wild flowers spring and the sunshine the waters are sleepin’. But the broken heart it kens nae second spring again, tho’ the waefu’ may cease frae their greetin’.” The song wasn’t one he recognized, but it reminded him of the sea shanties the crew sang as they sailed. Connor shook his head, walking over as she finished, “For ye’ll take the high road, and I’ll take the low, and I’ll be in Scotland afore ye. For me and my true love will never meet again…on the bonnie, bonnie banks…of Loch Lomond.” (Y/N)’s head lowered, and she tugged the bottle closer, taking a long swig of it before she pulled it away and tipped it upside down, watching a few drops fall out. She let out a huff and tossed the bottle to the side, curling in on herself. He knelt beside her, gently murmuring her name.

“(Y/N)?” Usually when he snuck up on her, she would yelp and fall over, but she simply tipped her head up, gazing at him with tired, hazy eyes. He raised a hand, cupping her cheek. “How long have you been sitting out here?” (Y/N) let out a puff of air, turning her attention back to the fire.

“Few hours…more or less.” She nodded at the bottles beside it. “I think I drank one for every hour.” Connor glanced at the bottles, nose scrunching up from the bitter after smell of the whiskey as he muttered,

“There are three bottles Ehnita…you have drunk them all?” (Y/N) grunted, casting a glare to the fire for her answer; he leaned towards her, prodding, “What has caused you such a reaction (Y/N)?” She didn’t speak at first, and she blamed the alcohol for slowing her response, but after a moment, she looked over, whispering,

“My uncle was killed by pirates a few weeks ago.” Connor’s face dropped and he sympathized,

“Ehnita…I am so sorry.” (Y/N) tried to wave him off, but she brought her hand to her eyes, face twisting with anguish as she began to cry. He frowned, and gently sat down next to her, pulling her into his arms; she didn’t fight him, simply burying her face into his chest, body racking with each sob. Connor pressed a hand to her cheek, tucking her head under his chin as he rubbed circles in her back, comforting, “It is okay (Y/N)…I am here.” Her fingers twisted in his shirt, and she brought her hand down, holding it to her mouth as she said,

“I hadn’t seen him since he moved to Saint Augustine a year ago, and now he’s gone.” He nodded against her with understanding.

“I know your grief Ehnita.” (Y/N) wiped in vain at the tears streaming down her face. “I wish I could take it from you.” She sucked in a shuddered breath.

“He was all I had left.” She pulled away from him, eyes wide with a newfound fear as she wept, “Ratonhnhaké:ton, I’m all alone.” Immediately, he took hold of her chin, face as solemn as his voice as he assured,

“So long as I stand by your side, you will never be alone (Y/N).” Her lips wobbled, and she whispered,

“Do you promise?” Connor nodded.

“I do.” (Y/N) shut her eyes and leant forward, feeling him press his forehead to hers. After a moment, he questioned, “What was that song you were singing?”

“The Bonnie Banks of Loch Lomond.” She pulled back slightly, shifting around in his arms until her back was firmly pressed to his chest, head lolling on his shoulder. “When I was a child, I heard it in a tavern and it was as if it’d been burned into my memory.” (Y/N) felt fresh tears rise in her vision, but she grinned, “It was Uncle Gideon’s favorite song.” The grin seemed to crumble and she swallowed thickly, pushing out, “I figured I should sing it for him one last time.” Connor pressed his lips to her temple, murmuring,

“It would give him great pain if you never sang it again.” (Y/N) simply hummed in return, not trusting herself to form words and he curled his arms around her, holding her against him. “He would want you to sing it and remember his memory and all the good times you shared with him.” She pursed her lips and nodded, and Connor laid a kiss to her temple again. “I wish I could have met him. He raised a beautiful woman, so talented and kind.” (Y/N) let out a watery laugh.

“He never had any kids, and after my parents passed, I’m sure he was as surprised as I was when I showed up on his doorstep all those years ago.” He smiled and she added, “He wasn’t perfect…but he did the best he could. Kept me clothed and fed, even paid for schooling...I wouldn’t be where I am today if he hadn’t bent over backwards for me like he did.” She lifted her hand, uncurling her fist to hold a silver coin between two fingers. “He left this to me…it’s all I’ve got left of him.” Connor propped his chin on her shoulder, asking,

“What is that?” (Y/N) turned her head to catch a glimpse of him.

“It’s a challenge coin.” His brows furrowed and she explained, “Soldiers and sailors carry them in their pockets, and if they’re in a tavern, anyone can take the coin out and slam it on the table. It issues a challenge to the other members of the group to show their coins, and whoever fails to produce a coin has to buy a round of drinks. Though, if everyone produces a coin, the one who issued the challenge must buy everyone else a round.” Connor’s lips pulled in satisfaction, and she flipped it in her fingers. “I used to ask him to have it all the time…I loved it. And now…now I’m not so sure.”

“He is passing the challenge to you Ehnita.” (Y/N) let out a heavy sigh, curling the coin back into her grip before turning her head up to look at the night sky.

“I miss him…I miss him dearly.” He nodded against her, comforting,

“I know the pain of losing someone you love…I miss my mother every day.” She didn’t respond, and he urged, “We should go inside…it will only get colder out here.” When he shifted, (Y/N) grabbed his arms, keeping them in place as she whispered,

“Please stay with me...just a bit longer.” Connor stopped, returning to his position as he agreed,

“Take all the time you need Ehnita…I will carry your grief with you.”

#connor kenway imagine #connor kenway imagines #connor kenway x reader #connor kenway x reader imagines #connor kenway x reader imagine #connor kenway #Ratonhnhaké:ton #assassins creed imagine #assassins creed imagines #assassins creed fanfiction #assassins creed 3 #ac3 #achilles davenport

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another-rogue-trevelyan · 4 years ago

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Five favorite writing bits from 2020

I was tagged by @kunstpause and @potatowitch thank you so much for this tag! It was fun to reflect on my writing from this year. I only really started in July, so I’m looking forward to things to come!

Mostly, this will be passages from my Cullen/Trevelyan fic, but there is a Greedfall excerpt that I technically think I wrote last year???

Under the cut because this got long

Sides of the Coin (unpublished as of 1/21)

“Kurt, clearly I’m useless today. Perhaps we should try again tomorrow. I’m sure I have enough bruises for one day.”

“Anyone who wants you dead won’t care if you’re distracted and bruised. I’m not letting you get yourself killed because you’re having an off day. I can’t always be there to watch your back. You need to be able to save yourself. Now raise your blade and try it again.”

She lunged toward him, but he easily parried the strike, which had been performed more in irritation than any thought that it may be a good idea.

“Still sloppy.” He advanced on her, and Corinne barely managed to swat away his strikes with her blade, stumbling backward on exhausted legs.

“Kurt…”

“Come on Green Blood, defend yourself! I know I taught you better than this! What would your uncle think of this performance?”

She swung hard, meeting Kurt’s blade with unexpected force and pushing him back. She advanced on the offensive, landing blow after blow as he frantically parried aggressive strikes.

“Corinne-“

His unusual use of her name did nothing to dissuade her assault as she hailed down upon him. She was an indomitable storm, striking mercilessly as Kurt did his best to block without harming her.

“Corinne, what are you-“

“Stop… treating me…. like a…. child!” she panted through her onslaught.

“I’m not!” Kurt yelled as their blades clashed. They pushed against one another, eyes meeting across the steel. “I’m treating you like someone I don’t want getting killed!”

“You’re talking to me the same way you did when I was fifteen! What are you going to do, tell on me to my uncle? Go ahead! He’s months away by sea!”

“That’s not what I meant and you know it!” Kurt shoved hard, both of their blades swinging wildly to the side as they both stumbled backward. “I don’t understand why you’re so angry!”

“Because I am a grown woman, Legate of the Congregation of Merchants, and the only reason Constantin hasn’t destroyed the colony yet, and you’re talking to me like a teenager with her first blade!”

“Because you’re fighting like a teenager with her first blade!”

Hearts Like Lions, Chapter 18

“I’ve been told you were romantically involved with the Empress.”

“I didn’t take you for a gossipmonger, Inquisitor,” Briala said, smiling sadly.

“Is it true?”

“Would it be so terrible if it was? It is lonely at the top, Your Worship - something it seems you know well. Is your own Commander not warming your bed?”

“My personal affairs are not threatening Empires.”

“Aren’t they?”

Hearts Like Lions, Chapter 17

Evelyn looked him over, sensing the dread that filled him. Though he insisted otherwise, the group that had accosted him had shaken him. If she could help it, it wouldn’t happen again.

“Cullen, what if I told you there was a way to keep them off of you?” She looked up at him nervously, and Cullen’s brows knit together in confusion.

“What do you mean?”

Evelyn pulled the silken kerchief from her breast pocket, running her thumb over the embroidered lettering.

E.T. Modest in Temper, Bold in Deed.

Bold, indeed.

Hearts Like Lions, Chapter 3

Cullen hastily took the reports from the scout and set about finding a quiet corner of the Chantry to work in. Ordinarily he’d prefer to work outside, but he had been waiting for the reports from the Hinterlands since the Herald… no, Evelyn... and her team had left weeks ago, and their importance required a focus only a quiet room could provide.

Cassandra’s was on top. Unsurprisingly, her reports were clean and concise, detailing their endeavors and findings in the form of an organized list. Her information was useful, and Cullen took note of anything he may need to pass on to Josephine and Leliana. As he copied down the details, he noticed Cassandra’s final entry, written below her other notes.

Our arrival at the Crossroads was met with resistance from rebel mages and Templars. The Herald was pinned beneath a Templar and held by the neck. I was able to stop the Templar, but the Herald suffered minor bruising. After a week of fighting beside her, I have determined her lost footing was not a mistake. The Herald is an extremely well-trained rogue.

Cullen stared at the report, as though his gaze could bring further explanation. One of the first rules of combat training was to never let your enemy take you to the ground, especially for rogue fighters, who often wore lighter armor. He pulled out the next report, hoping it would contain more information.

The next came from Solas, who had thoroughly described the area, citing historical sites, locations of natural materials, and possible locations to camp. It was actually quite useful, but didn’t answer his question about the incident with the Templar. That was until he realized the pages had stuck, and there was one more note on the final page.

Evelyn suffered a minor injury to the neck caused by an altercation with a rebel Templar. Though she claimed to not be bothered by it, she moved her head tenderly, and the discoloration turned to dark bruising. I applied an elfroot salve to the affected area that evening, but there was not much that could be done for it. It has been healing well on its own.

Solas

Cullen flipped immediately to the next report, hoping to find something else.

Curly,

Have I mentioned that I hate the wilderness? The Ferelden cold bites as harshly as its war dogs. It has been two weeks since we parted with civilization. Since then, it has been nothing but hastily made camps. Rams feed on the grasses of rolling hills, while their predators lurk in hidden caves beyond view…

Cullen groaned. Varric’s report was far thicker than the others. His clean yet elaborate scrawl continued for pages. While entertaining, it made it difficult to find the information he needed. He skimmed through until he found what he was searching for.

When we arrived at the Crossroads, we were attacked from both sides by mages and Templars alike. Our team was caught in the middle, and neither group cared to differentiate between us and the enemy. They even went so far as to turn hostile against Inquisition soldiers and refugees. A Templar almost killed a refugee woman, but Evelyn tackled him to the ground at the last moment, giving her enough time to escape and saving her life. Unfortunately, once on the ground, the Templar was able to pin Evelyn down by the throat. The Seeker managed to pull him off and kill him before things could get worse, but the Herald was bruised for days. Trust me when I say we need to watch her, Curly. I’ve seen firsthand what this world does to heroes.

Hearts Like Lions, Chapter 10

“Of course,” Evelyn said, intently picking lint from her sleeve. “I’ll be down in just a moment.” Once they were gone, Evelyn looked toward the floor, appearing far more sullen than she had just moments prior.

“Is something wrong?” Cullen asked. Evelyn sighed.

“It’s Alexius’s judgement. It’s one thing in the field, when someone attacks you - when you know it’s you or them. But to sit on a throne and condemn… What Alexius did was terrible, but he only wanted to save his son. I can’t say I don’t understand. Sometimes I wonder if I’d have done the same, in his place. But then I remember that future…” she placed her hands on her hips, biting her lower lip and trembling with rage. “It was horrible, Cullen. They imprisoned our friends - used their bodies to mine red lyrium. It infected everything! Then they tortured Leliana, destroyed the Inquisition, and I didn’t know what happened to my family, or what happened to you, and I… Dammit!” As she dabbed a tear away with her glove, Cullen impulsively wrapped his arms around her. He did so awkwardly, at first, but then he relaxed, resting his chin atop her head as Evelyn eased into him.

“Why didn’t he attack me? Why couldn’t I have killed him then, in the heat of battle, without having to worry about whether or not it was right? And now I don’t know if I can…”

“You can,” Cullen said softly. “I know it won’t be easy, but you can.” Evelyn breathed deeply, allowing the comforting scent of oakmoss to calm her.

“I’m sorry,” she said when she finally pulled back, immediately missing the comfort his arms had brought. “I don’t know what’s gotten into me.”

“Don’t be sorry, Evelyn. It’d be more concerning if nothing troubled you.”

“Tell that to my parents,” she said sadly, gazing at her boots. Cullen gently tilted her chin upward with his hand, guiding her eyes to him.

“You can do this. I’ll support whatever you decide. And I heard from a reliable source that the kitchen staff have been baking cakes all afternoon, so when it’s all over we’ll get you a slice of cake and a glass of that wine Josephine hid in here. Alright?” He slid his hand through her hair and Evelyn laughed, sniffling a bit.

“I do love cake. But no more than one glass of wine. I’m a bloody lightweight.”

“I’ll remember that.”

“Thank you, Cullen.” Evelyn smiled up at him, feeling a bit better. The gaze changed when she realized just how close they were, his hand resting on the back of her neck, and she couldn’t stop her eyes from wandering to the scar on his lip. Her heart pounded as she realized he had done the same, and the desire to feel his lips on hers consumed her.

Then she remembered where they were.

How long had it been since she last had a man in her bedroom? Alone? And this was not just any man. It was Cullen. Cullen, who she looked forward to seeing each day, who she thought of frequently in the field, who had cared for her after the fall of Haven, who she worried for at night. There was no denying she cared for him, and if the look in his eyes was any indication...

The thought made her nervous, and she glanced toward the bed and back to him, cursing herself as he followed her glance. He blushed furiously when he realized where she had looked, and Evelyn felt the heat rising in her own cheeks as they pulled away.

“Perhaps… we should…” Cullen spluttered.

“I… should get down there,” Evelyn managed.

“Of course.” Evelyn started toward the door, then turned to find Cullen still looking after her.

“You should come.”

“Right,” Cullen said, quickly following.

Tagging @kemvee @noire-pandora @hawkeish @musetta3 and anyone else who wants to!

#tags #another rogue trevelyan fanfiction #dragon age #dragon age inquisition #dragon age fanfiction #Greedfall #inquisitor x cullen #cullen x trevelyan #cullen rutherford #commander cullen

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onthepageoftears · 4 years ago

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Kill Your Darlings Ch. 14 (Jaskier x Assassin!Reader) || Witcher

A/N: Happy Friday (not that that means much anymore lol)! Fair warning, this chapter is a bit heavy, and next one will probably be as well (but there will be a lot of Jaskier x reader in the next one, I promise!). Despite that, I hope you enjoy!

Your comments and feedback are always encouraged and mean a lot to me!

Summary: A friendship crumbles in the face of disagreement.

Warnings: graphic violence, a lot of blood/pain, language, INTENSE FIGHTING, seriously this gets pretty dark so beware

Words: 2,631

Please Don’t Plagiarize My Work!

The darkness surrounded you as you ran all the way back to the inn. You didn’t care about the few people who were wandering the streets, didn’t care for their gasps as you just missed knocking into them — all you cared about was getting to the inn, to Jaskier, and quick.

As you ran, your mind couldn’t help from wandering. You were pushing back Rauf’s face, pushing away his sureness of Jaskier’s guilt. Of course, you questioned it yourself, if the bard was actually innocent, but when Rauf said it himself, you knew it wasn’t the truth. Somehow, you just knew. If it was the bard’s smile, or his eyes, or the way he looked at the little girl you two had saved, you weren’t sure. But you just knew. And you weren’t going to let him die.

You didn’t know how long it took for you to get back to the inn, but it was still dark when you got there, so that was enough for you. You were ready to practically break down the back door to get to the room you left the bard and witcher in, but had to stop yourself at the sound of a familiar voice. And, to your dismay, a familiar tune.

You didn’t bother apologizing as you shoved past the much larger crowd of people who were in the tavern. The groans of protest were a blur to you as you pushed towards the front, past the bars and tables, where Jaskier was standing proudly, his lute in hand. You had never been more furious to see the smile on his face.

You grabbed his arm as soon as he laid his eyes on you, making him yelp in surprise as you dragged him to the side of his makeshift stage. You practically pushed him against one of the pillars in the room, the concern in your chest boiling into anger.

You spoke through gritted teeth. “What the bloody hell are you doing?”

“I was celebrating.”

You ignored the sarcasm that laced his voice. “You can’t just—“

It was then that you realized the bard was alone. You twisted your neck to look at the crowd, at the bar, to the back corners of the tavern. No witcher in sight.

You turned back to the bard, your grip on his arm tightening. “Where is Geralt?”

“What? He’s not with you?”

“Why would he—“ It didn’t matter now. What mattered was keeping him safe. “You’re still wanted.”

“What?”

You looked back at the crowd again, this time peeling your eyes for anything, anyone who might be there to harm him. “You could be killed any second if not for the crowd—“

Then you saw her. She was at the bar, her hood hung over her head, but she was facing you, watching you. She lifted her cup and chugged the rest of what was inside, placing it down and walking towards the back exit. As soon as Joneta’s figure disappeared behind the door, you whipped your gaze to Jaskier.

“Who was that?” His voice was distant as he looked past you where Joneta had walked, his eyes full of fear that you wished you could make disappear. Instead, you squeezed his arm again, making him look back to you.

You licked your lips, took a deep breath, and whispered, “The only way you can…maybe stay safe is in front of the crowd. So whatever you do, don’t stop playing.”

Jaskier frowned at you, the fear in his eyes turning to concern. He opened his mouth to say something, but you turned away before he could stop you. You walked over to the back door, and despite your determination to get outside, you stopped. The bard’s eyes burned into the side of your face, making you turn back towards him. The two of you ignored the complaining crowd and shared a look, one that spared no words. The bard’s jaw clenched as he looked at you, his gaze traveling quickly over your face. Finally, he settled back on your eyes, where he gave a slight nod.

Be careful.

You lifted your chin, but the confidence you may have had sizzled away. You couldn’t promise him that. So you didn’t. You looked away, closed your eyes, and took a deep breath.

And then you went outside.

“I figured you’d want to talk. You always do.”

You whipped your head to the side, where Joneta leaned against the cobblestone walls of the tavern. You watched her with slitted eyes, “Only when I have to.”

You almost sighed in relief when Jaskier’s muffled voice began singing again, emitting cheers from the previously annoyed crowd. Even so, your heart was practically ripping out of your chest at the girl beside you.

Joneta pushed herself off of the wall, moving to slide her hands along the barrels that crowded the back of the tavern. She stood across from you, letting her hood fall as she turned back towards you with a questioning look.

“I could’ve killed him already.”

Your stomach flipped with anger, but you pushed the feeling away. Clenching your jaw, you met her gaze, “Then why didn’t you?”

“Why didn’t you?” She stepped towards you, making you stiffen. No matter what, you would not let her get through that door. “I think you’re smart, Y/N. Which is why I wanted to give you a chance.”

You swallowed the lump in your throat, “A chance for what?”

“To stop me."

Your eyes searched her face; she was serious. You licked your lips and frowned, the answer seeming obvious to you, “He’s innocent.”

“And?”

Your frown deepened as you enunciated each word carefully, “We don’t kill the innocent.”

“You don’t kill the innocent.”

You faltered, “What is that supposed to mean?”

She bit her bottom lip, releasing it into a pout. Then she shrugged. “Doesn’t matter. You’ve had plenty of time to kill him, but you didn’t. So I will.” She stepped forward again, this time trying to move past you.

You stepped to the side so you were blocking her path, “You can’t.”

Joneta’s eyes searched your face, but this time they were angry. “Do you know how much coin is on his head?”

You blinked, opening your mouth to respond but closing it soon after. To be honest, it never occurred to you. You had only thought about ending Jaskier’s life because of what Rauf told you he did — the money meant nearly nothing to you. All you wanted was justice for the victims. Or, supposed victims.

You winced at your own thoughts and instead pushed them away, “Doesn’t matter.”

Joneta scoffed and tried to step forward again, but you lifted your arms just in time to push her back. She huffed, but the glare she sent you wasn’t nearly as deadly as your own.

You gritted your teeth, but the anger boiling in your veins was overpowered by the sadness in your voice, “I don’t want to fight you.”

Joneta stood up straighter, her stance making you take a sharp breath in, “I guess you don’t get to make that choice.”

You saw the knife slip from her wrist just in time, jumping to the side as she swiped just past your face. She jabbed the knife towards you again, but you sidestepped before it could make contact. While her arm was still outstretched, you grabbed it and twisted it behind her, making her drop the knife to the ground. She let out an angry groan before you let her arm go, taking your position back in front of the door.

“Joneta, please.”

She was breathing heavily now, her eyes laced with more fury than you had ever seen her with. She only shook her head with a huff before unsheathing another knife and lunging at you again, this time slicing into your arm.

You gasped, the pain causing you to grit your teeth. You didn’t want to hurt her. You just wanted her to stop. But if she was going to fight dirty, you might have to too.

But not yet. You walked forward, lifting your hands in surrender. Joneta watched you with a careful glare.

“Why do you insist on helping that fool?” She seethed, but stayed a safe distance away.

“Because, it’s what’s right.”

Joneta let out a dry laugh, “What’s right is doing our job.”

“Our job isn’t to kill the innocent.”

“Enough of this bullshit.” She threw her knife at you, but you shifted out of the way, watching as it hit the cobblestone wall behind you. It was a bad throw — and you realized it was a distraction too late. Before you knew it, Joneta was slamming your chin with an upper hook, her fist colliding with your jaw and snapping your head back. The taste of blood filled your mouth as you stumbled backward — you would’ve fallen over if she didn’t grab your shoulder to steady you. But what seemed like a sympathetic gesture was just another attack; Joneta lifted her knee, hard, into your stomach. You doubled over, clutching the spot that pulsated from pain. She kept her grip on your shoulder, leaning down to speak into your ear.

“You’re weak. Always have been.” You ignored the cruelty in her tone, instead taking the opportunity to overpower her. You grabbed the arm she had on you and used your body weight to flip her over, making her lose both her grip on you and her balance. When she slammed into the ground, her eyebrows furrowed in pain. She lifted a hand to the back of her head, revealing the blood that came from the impact.

You spit out the blood that lingered in your mouth, “It’s not weak to spare someone’s life.”

Slowly, you reached your hand forward, beckoning her to take it. Please, just take it.

She looked at you for a moment, her eyes searching your own in disbelief. For a second, you thought she might believe you. That she might give up. But this was Joneta. And Joneta was more stubborn than you ever dreamed of being.

“A life is only worth sparing if you’re willing to spare yourself.” You paused, taken aback by her words. But they weren’t hers — they were Rauf’s. It was one of the many lessons he taught you when you were young, one of the lessons you had been pushing to the back of your mind since you started this assignment. But before you could think any more of them, Joneta had found her knife again and leaned up to slice into your stomach. You yelped at the contact, immediately bringing a hand to the wound. Blood was trickling out, but it didn’t seem that deep of a cut. You looked back to Joneta, whose once anger-filled eyes now showed a hint of the same refrain that yours did.

She didn’t want to kill you either.

But that didn’t mean you were going to let her kill Jaskier.

“I’m only going to warn you once more,” you said, fighting the urge to unsheathe your own knife. By then, Joneta had gotten up from the ground, getting ready for another round.

And this time, you gave it to her.

You jumped forward, dodging her knife as she tried to plunge it into your leg. Instead, you grabbed her arm and turned her around, using your position to push her own knife-wielding hand to her face. She screamed as the knife cut into her cheek, forcing her to drop it to the ground.

You let her push you away as she held a hand to her face.

But she wasn’t done yet. She ran towards you and threw a punch, which you dodged. But as you did so, she lifted her foot and kicked right onto the cut she put into your stomach.

You screamed in agony as you fell to the ground, clutching your stomach as it continued to bleed. You coughed up the blood from your mouth and spit it on the ground beside you, trying desperately to catch your breath.

Joneta stood over you, practically heaving from anger, “You let him go, you’re just as bad as your father.”

If her blows from before hadn’t knocked the breath out of you, this had. She was one of the few people you had told about your past, and you’d never thought she would use it against you. Especially not in a time like this.

You clenched your jaw despite the pain that jolted through your body. “I am nothing like him.” You didn’t know if you said it for yourself, or for her. Either way, you jutted your head back to the tavern door. “And he is nothing like that. He’s innocent, Joneta.”

She laughed, the sound making you wince almost as much as the pain from your body, “Like I give a shit.” She began walking towards where her knife had fallen, towards the tavern door where Jaskier continued playing his music, towards the man with whom you had grown a reluctantly special fondness for in the time you spent with him. And the idea of Joneta walking in there, cornering him, stabbing him until his eyes lost their light — it made your eyes sting, your teeth clench, your heart ache.

You were moving faster than the pain could register, kicking out your leg in time to trip Joneta and make her fall to the ground. Taking the knife out of your boot, you pushed Joneta so her back was on the ground and held her down with your knife to her throat.

She tipped her head back once the cold steel made contact with her skin.

You were breathing heavily now, your once pleading eyes now a stone-cold glare. “Don’t. Just stop.”

Joneta bared her teeth, “I’ll never stop. And you shouldn’t either.”

Her knife was sunken into your leg before you could react, the pain piercing through you as she pushed you aside once again. She grabbed the knife from your hand as you squeezed your eyes shut from the pain; she stood up and began walking back the tavern door — to Julian.

“No!” You screamed, and without a second thought, you ripped the knife from your leg and jumped towards her, grabbing a handful of her hair to pull her back, exposing her neck. You gripped her knife in your hand and slid it along her throat, only wincing when the blood spurted out of the wound.

You gasped as the two of you fell to the ground, Joneta’s chokes being the only sound you could hear. You cradled her head in your lap as she tried to speak, despite the blood flooding her mouth; the blood was pouring out of her throat and all over your hands as you tried to hold the wound, desperate to fix the mess you made. She watched you with a shocked expression, like she couldn’t believe you did it, couldn’t believe you actually caused her this pain. Like she didn’t think it would end this way.

“I told you to stop,” you sobbed, watching her eyes glaze over as the blood continued to pour through your fingertips. “I told you. I told you — please, don’t.”

But she was fading, and you could see it. You still kept your hands there, over the fatal wound you gave her, even though you knew it wouldn’t do anything. You kept your hands there even when her gasps for air subsided, even when her body became still, even when her eyes dimmed. You kept your hands there as your own leg seeped blood onto the ground, as your sobs filled the noise of the night — and you still didn’t let go when those sobs turned to an unsettling silence.

———————————————————————————————————

Let me know your thoughts...

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popculturebuffet · 4 years ago

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Loud House Reviews: The Loudest Thanksgiving

It’s almost Thanksgiving! And a vastly diffrent one than in recent memory: Most of us are slimming down family gatherings to just whose in our house, you know because theirs a pandemic going on and it’s not worth risking your life for it. To those either guilting their families into it or doing so because MAGa or some such I only have this to say.

Speaking of Black Friday i’ts spread over a week and it’s cyber deals mean I got a ton of graphic novels for a dollar a piece and my christmas shopping almost done. So in other words, boo Maga, yay safe and responsible captalisim. But while the holiday may be diffrent, as well as the pseudo holiday attached that spawned a wonderful musical and many many injuries, one thing stays the same; Holiday Episodes. And despite being the less popular of the three holidays, Thanksgiving still produced tons of great holiday episodes and specials. And with everything being so busy I simply didn’t put too much thought into what to do for Turkey Day.. well okay the day proper i’m going to eat, spend time with family and watch a bunch of mystery science theater 3000, stay the course even in these troubling times, just with only the 4 other people who live in my house. But in terms of episodes I thought i had nothing.. then I started actually thinking on it and what do you know I have three things I want to do for the holiday, though one might wait till next year, and possibly a fourth. But given my workload currently, i’m not one to back away from a challenge, so welcome to a three or four course meal of reviews. First course: The Loud House thanksgiving special, the loudest thanksgiving. I originally wasn’t going to do this one, mostly because due to my large workload and constant battle with procastination, I keep having to push back the latest episode review, and I have to do that one soon, as there’s a new episode in december and a christmas episode i’ve put off watching for far too long , as I INTENDED to watch eleven louds a leapin for every chirstmas up till now and never got to it before the season was over. But just like elven louds.. Nick forced my hand.. and by that I mean the SPINOFF got a thanksgiving episode that’s also a sequel in some fashion to this episode. If I wanted to cover that episode this thanksgiving or the next I had to at least watch the original. And frankly, this close to the holiday there was no reason not to review it. So with that out of the way.

Let’s Get At Er. This is The Loudest Thanksgiving... after the break

The Loudest Thanksgiving takes place during season 3, and still pre-casagrandes spinoff launch despite the christmas special taking place earlier. This is actually easy to explain: The Loud House runs on Comic Strip time... i.e. the characters don’t age unless the writers decide they do. But while the spinoff was in motion at this point, it was still a season off airing wise, and ill advised raitings stunt mini series wise, so in order to keep the Casagrandes fresh in people’s minds presumably, they did a crossover that at this point wasn’t a crossover but now technically is because the show exists but this existed before the show.

It’s just a show, and I should really just relax. Point is this is a pre-crossover crossover, the two families meet for the first time, the man already said pitter patter, let’s get back at er. So we open with Flip serving as our magical snowman narrator and regaling us with the tale of steven. Every compastionate can you imagine it... and i’m fucking with you, it’s of course abotu that time the louds and the casagrandes tried having thanksgiving together.

We then cut to Lori and Bobby being all cute, as usual, and both talking over the phone as each show off their thanksgivings to each other and the enusing family shenanigans. On Lori’s side Lynn is wearing baggy pants so she dosen’t miss the game or the meal by going to the bathroom.. because that’s how pissing yourself works. Look if your going to do something that gross, stupid and broish just woman up and wear an adult diaper. The twins are guarding Lynn sr and the food, poorly, and Lisa has invented a Gravy Squriting robot. I can only see this ending one way.

Yeah those single function robots really get useless once the exestnetial crisis kicks in.

On the casagrandes side, Rosa is likewise guarding her kitchen, Frida is painting and Hector plans to sernade eveyrone because Hector is the best and you all should know that. Even with the recent Bobby Abuse he’s still awesome. As for the Mercado, CJ and Ronnie Anne are running the annual canned food drive because CJ is better than the best and should really be used more often. Both wish they could be there.. and both honestly talk about possibly spending thanksgiving with each other and just one of their family. It’s not a wild proposition: Both are going to college soon, both are in a longterm relationship.. they plan to get married down the line for now. If things hold they will eventually have to figure this out. Of course rather than fate let them figure this out themselves, Hector overhears on Bobby’s end and Lincoln, whose busy A Clock Work Oranging himself so he can stay awake during dinner, overhears on Loris, leading to an emergency family meeting for both sides. Both families are worried their prospective teenager going to another house of their longterm significant other for one year will mean they get all the holidays. Having never had a relationship last long enough to worry about this, I don’t quite get it as in my experince watching couples juggle this.. they usually just alternate years, spoilers the solution the episode goes with, or trade off christmas and thanksgiving, both fair solutions. Buuut as much as this bothered me at first the more I thought about it the more it actually made sense: People.. aren’t always rational and won’t always do the smart or correct thing, especially when it comes to their children. And with Lori leaving college and the casagrandes being togehter for thanksgiving for the first time in about 5 years, with both ronnie anne and her mom not having had a proper one in some time due to her mom needing to work thanksgiving, presumibly because of the eternal curse of gravy chugging contests, they have valid emotional reasons to go a bit nuts and do some irrational and assholish things. They just don’t want to loose their big sister and big brother, and that’s fair. It may not be at all accurate but it’s fair.

So thus began the great Guilt Off of 2018. ON the Loud side they START with a fairly soft pitch, the twins simply offer her food early, and she takes it because honestly I would too. Then again, i’d also take free food in just about any situation, so i’m not really a good gage for this. As long as it’s not poision i’ll probably eat it if it’s free. The next two are a little.. less subtle, with the kids talking about Lori’s roll in the annual thanksgiving skit.. which I’m assuming is soley for Lynn Sr. as no one else seems to be going to their thanksgiving. Which granted theirs valid explinations for why their neighbors didn’t go, the mcbrides and mr grouse have their own families and while Mr Grouse rarely gets to see his, he now has neighborly friends after the last holiday special happy to help. But Pop Pop.. makes no sense as his girlfriend, the only plausable reason he wouldn’t be there, was said to not have much family in her debut. So he’s just.. absent from thanksgiving for no reason. Thena gain we later find out this play is movie length, so maybe he was just trying to escape that which in that case, who can blame him. Rita almost reigns things back in with the mother’s trump card: parental guilt. Almost. She then almost crushes lori’s hand but it’s funny enough. At the Casagrandes, their opening move is largely the same only Rosa wins in terms of execution, cooking up some of bobby’s faviorites to specificially target him. Frida paints him into a painting, again the Casagrandes win his one in terms of effort. They do tie in the last bit, as Maria and Ronnie Anne try the same sort of guilt slining with the same bone crushing. Eventually both teens get fed up with the next bit; For Lori, Lucy gives her a long overdramatic poem about an empty chair which is easily tied with one bit later for best bit of hte episode.. which granted when I can only think of two or three gags that really made me laugh...

Bobby likewise gets Hector telling the story about a realitvie not going to thanksgiving. Both get angry.. which for Lori, isn’t all that suprising, if entirely warranted. For Bobby though? It’s like pissing off a dolphin. IT’s hard to do and very much not something you want to actually pull of. Both families are forced to admit they eavesdropped, and are incredibly worried about this whole situation, with Lynn Sr selling lincoln up the river for telling them... this man’s capacity for selling out his children is as awe insprising as it is truly pathetic.

So the two teens go back to their rooms to figure something out and come upon a reasonable solution: just have one of the families host and both come to it. That’s more than fair. But given we still have a full special to pad out, both families are still treating this like a competion: while the louds win the coin toss, both sides are determined to win thanksgiving. IT’s far from the most insane contest i’ve seen this month, x of swords was happening and i’ve seen a russian yank a goblin out of the demonic alligator skin he was using as a puppet. And we don’t know for sure Arrakoa and Krakoa didn’t have a trial over a baby turkey being adorable as one of the challenges. Other challenges included getting drunk, an eating contest, telling someone to murder a kitten and a wedding, all of this is actual stuff that happened in this recent crossover, I have made up nothing.

So after the break and Flip realizing oh shit the audience is back, the war begins. The Louds are preparing for war, with Lola putting out a picture of herself instead of bobby and laurie because of course.. still not a half bad gag. The Casagrandes arrive and in in a passive agressive move that was already done a year before this special by Brooklyn Nine Nine and better, brought their own food.. though the roast pig is a nice and unique touch. Points for that. And this.. is where the special gets tedious. Yeah while the IDEA of this episode was really good and I was excited to cover it in practice it’s just similar gags on both sides done for both halves: The first being “let’s guilt them into staying” and the second being “Let’s one up each other” with only two bits really working: Frieda having a painting and the louds annual skit. And the skit is because it raises a LOT of questions: Why is it 90 minutes, who played the adorable turkey in the years between babies? Was it just whoever was youngest? Who wrote this? Who is this for besides Lynn Sr and Pop Pop? Who all has sat through this thing at some point? Is that why the mcbrides don’t come over for thanksgiving? It’s just.. fantastic is what i’m saying.

But otherwise this part is just the family trying to one up each other with food, or toasts, or song, before devolving into a big fight. What makes it not work is.. there isn’t a lot of personality there. You have these two big, plentiful, intresting casts, even at this stage with the Casagrandes far less established and fleshed out. And instead of finding interesting ways for them to play off one another meeting for the first time, and to use that to also flesh the characters out more for the inevitable spinoff, it’s just

For most of the second half. Thankfully it DOES manage to bring things around as after things degenerate into a food fight, the families decide to just ASK the two of them where they want to go.. and find them entirely missing. It then turns out, in a nice twist, this is where Flip came in. Since his place is the only place open 24/7 and 365, barring fishing season, Bobby and Lori fled here to flee their insane families.. who then follow them there because Carlos and Lisa have them chipped. I was suprised at first Carlos had a tracker on bobby but honestly, i’ts just common sense. The man is like a golden retriver in a man’s body. Here’s an artists interpretation

Both families breifly bicker before Lori and Bobby announce their starting their own family thankgiving with blackjack, and hookers. They really shouldn’t of let Flip in on the brainstorming session. Both families don’t want that, and apologize, admitting they just didn’t want to loose them and both genuinely offering to let the other have them next year. Flip, who despite having a “pay for my colonoscopy jar” with a picture of his ass on it, is somehow the voice of reason and just suggests trading thanksgivings every year, everyone accepts, and we do get a genuinely heartwarming ending of both sides gathering everything for a gas station thanksgiving. Honestly reminds me of king of the hill’s airport episode, but in a very good way and still unique enough circumstances to work.Also Flip, of all people, donates the cans needed to finish the can drive.. granted i’m not sure if they WANT any of that meat, but hey, he meant well and it made me really like the character. We get a heartwearming duet between hector and luna and sono the whole family and we’re out.

Final Thoughts: This was disapointing. I’ve listed most of my complaints already, but overall it wasted a good premise of two families coming together, and even the feud parts could’ve been funnier. As it is it’s just.. ehhhhhhhhhh. It has some good parts, and bobby is an angel here on earth as always. But the whole just feels padded. Like this was SUPPOSED to just be 11 minutes, got bumped up, and thus here we are. It’s not the worst Loud House has done, i’ve seen and heard of muccch worse, but for a holiday special it just feels stale and i’ve seen way better thanksgiving specials. And i’ll be getting to that. If there’s an episode of a cartoon you’d like me to cover, just pop in my ask box or dms and you can comission a review for 5 bucks a piece. Discounts on bulk, 15 for movies. Until then , happy thanksgiving.

#the loud house #the casagrandes #the loudest thanksgiving #bobby santiago #lori loud #flip #thanksgiving #i'm .. i'm not tagging everyone #there were two fullf amilies involved andi 'm tired #reviews

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keelywolfe · 5 years ago

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FIC: Beneath an Aurora Sky ch. 14

Summary: The South Pole Station is equipped for research and Edge has always made sure things run smoothly for the inhabitants. His charges are meant to follow his rules and regulations, and in turn, he makes sure they survive in the arctic temperatures. It takes plenty of hard work and determination and Edge, along with his crew, can handle both.

He wasn’t counting on one of the newest researchers. He wasn’t expecting Rus.

Tags: Spicyhoney, First Time, Arctic AU, Hurt/Comfort

~~*~~

Chapter One | Chapter Two | Chapter Three | Chapter Four

Chapter Five | Chapter Six | Chapter Seven | Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine | Chapter Ten | Chapter Eleven | Chapter Twelve

Chapter 13

~~*~~

Read Chapter 14 on AO3

Read it here!

~~*~~

Edge hadn’t meant to fall asleep again. After a delightful enjoyable shower with Rus, a far cry from the perfunctory washing up he did on his own, they’d fallen back into his bed, curling up together and somewhere in the midst of holding each other, Edge must have fallen asleep.

The space on the mattress next to him was empty, the sheets cool. That Rus was able to sneak out while he was sleeping made him frown.

Once, no one would have been able to sneak up on him unawares, sleeping or not. He’d never had any other bed companions at the station for comparison, so whether he was simply losing his touch or his trust in Rus was enough to allow for it, he couldn’t say.

He rolled over, pressing his face into the sheets and inhaling deeply. Beneath the crispness of laundry detergent was a sweet scent Edge was getting to know entirely too well, especially for one he wasn’t going to have for very long. But he could already tell he was going to miss it.

None of his other sexual partners had ever been so playful, nothing more than taking the time to satisfy their needs. With Rus, their brief time beneath the hot spray of water was filled with laughing and teasing, even as Rus slid to his knees, that grin of his turning sly. If only things were different, if he could stay--

He was a fool. Rus was hardly the first person he’d lost and at least he would be out in the world, alive and happy.

Enough of this. Edge started to sit up, but the crinkle of paper made him pause.

There was a note, written in brisk chicken-scratch on a scrap of paper.

had to get going on running those numbers. see you at dinner.

Beneath that was a row of what looked like x’s and o’s. He puzzled over that for a moment, then set it aside with a mental shrug. He’d ask Rus what it meant later.

For now, he was far off his normal schedule and there was plenty of work of his own to get done.

Pushing aside his own foolishness, Edge climbed out of bed and dressed, flicking on the coffee pot to brew and straightening the blankets briskly as he waited. By the time he sat at his desk with a fragrant cup of fresh coffee, he was feeling more himself.

The duty logs he only glanced over, trusting that Undyne and Red kept things in order while he was gone. He frowned to see an email marked as Important from the Institute blinking in his inbox. He skimmed the contents, his frown deepening with each sentence. The politely worded note stated that they might be receiving guests off the normal schedule time and that more information would be provided later.

That was unprecedented. Their station wasn’t easily accessible by anything other than a ship, a deliberate choice by the Institute as it put them in the position to offer rare, and expensive, opportunities for researchers. In proper weather, a helicopter could get to them and they had a landing site for one in case of emergency, but the only occasion they’d used it was over a year ago when a researcher came down with appendicitis.

No one had ever come in the middle of a session, and there was still over a month left with the current roster.

The reminder gave his soul an unpleasant twist. In a month, Rus would be gone, back to finish his thesis and earn the doctorate he was working so hard towards. Edge pushed that aside and focused on his paperwork. He’d known the state of things from the start, there was no point in getting maudlin about it now.

And the next time Undyne told him to have a little fun with a researcher, he’d tell her to shut up before she could even come up with a bet.

~~*~~

It was nearly dinner by the time he worked through all his paperwork and emails. Edge stood and stretched out the kink in his spine and headed towards the mess hall, more than ready for a meal that wasn’t either freeze dried or in the shape of a bar.

He could hear the mealtime chatter from around the corner and through the windowed panel he could see all the researchers at the table were gathered around Rus, ignoring their own plates. Edge frowned and quietly pushed open the door.

“...it was something else, the snow was like looking through television static!” Rus was saying, his hands following along with the spoken words and now he could see Bonnie was in the room as well, leaning against the wall by the kitchen door, watching intently. “i couldn’t see a damn thing, all i could do was follow the gps and hope it wasn’t gonna lead me into a drift the cat couldn’t get out of and they’d find me frozen solid when the storm ended.” Most of the researchers were a riveted audience, hanging on every word. Even the older Man, the geologist with the aura of arrogance was listening with interest.

“That sounds honestly terrifying,” one of them, the glaciologist, breathed, her eyes huge.

“yeah, i was about shitting bricks, which is saying something since skeletons...don’t.” Laughter rounded the table, but it didn’t break the tension. None of them even noticed Edge standing by the door, their attention was on Rus as he went on.

“seriously, thought i was gonna die. then these lights suddenly came out from the dark. first i was thinking maybe it was the angel coming to take me home, but instead, it was the boss showing up to save my ass.”

Rus looked directly at him and a dozen sets of wide eyes followed, each filled with varying levels of hero worship as they swung his way. Edge resisted the urge to simply walk back out. He had no difficulty issuing orders and taking command, he wasn’t about to flee from a little adoration. He straightened his spine, meeting those looks evenly.

Undyne didn’t seem fooled by his poise. She was sitting at the end of the table, her boots propped up on the corner and she only grinning widely, her needle-sharp teeth gleaming.

It was a great deal more difficult to resist the urge to glare at her. Edge coughed uncomfortably. “It’s my job.”

“My job too, but you didn’t see me heading out in the storm,” Undyne said slyly. He gave her a sour look, knowing full well that she’d gotten trapped out in a storm last year with an entire team. They’d been forced to spend three days out in the shelters with no contact. Driving out on a known road with GPS guiding him was hardly any level of heroism here. “Boss must have balls of steel, eh, Rus?”

“not that i noticed,” Rus murmured, low. A faint blush warmed his cheekbones, but of course he couldn’t resist the joke. The glaciologist sitting closest to him heard and she disguised her laugh with a cough, but her look at Edge turned rather uncomfortably speculative.

“Enough,” Edge said crisply. He sat down on the bench and started piling food on his plate, splatting down potatoes with unnecessary force. “I did what was necessary and we came home safe. The end.”

Discontented sighs rounded table and Rus grinned wryly, “you’re a hellava storyteller, boss.”

His chosen title prickled strangely now when heard from Rus. It was better that Rus called him boss around the others, he knew, he was already going to have to be very careful not to incur any accusations of favoritism and he hardly wanted any of the other scientists calling him by his given name. But he wished he could ask Rus to simply call him Edge.

A sudden clap broke through his discontented thoughts and he turned to look at Bonnie, who signed with deliberate relish, He’s been bragging about you since he got here.

Not bragging if true, Rus signed back, though he didn’t say it aloud. The others seemed to realize this was the end of the tale, everyone wandered back to their own plates and Bonnie back to the kitchen. It was hard to miss the glances that kept coming Edge’s way. He supposed there was a certain amount of pride for them or perhaps security, settling underlying worries to hear that they would be retrieved in case such a thing happened to them.

The group settled in with their plates and notes, and the conversation dwindled to the sounds of eating. Red wasn’t there, he was likely still working on the Cat, checking it over to make sure the storm hadn’t done any damage. Bonnie was well familiar with his ways, she’d make sure he ate eventually.

Soon enough, the others finished, washing their plates and heading back to work on their research or to the rec room. Even Undyne was gone, with hardly more than a knowing look from her one good eye. The mess hall was empty but for him and Rus, who’d stopped pretending to pick at his plate five minutes ago.

The mouthful of noodles that was so delicious when he first took it was hastily chewed and swallowed, allowing Edge to ask, “Did you get your work done?”

“yeah.” Rus flipped his fork nimbly through his fingers the way a magician might walk a coin. “but it’s clearing up outside, so i need to get out for more measurements.” He almost sounded disappointed that he’d be able to work on the research that he’d paid so much to do. “might be out late.”

As casual as those words were, Edge could hear the layer of uncertainty beneath it. But Edge wasn’t interested in playing games, they had very little time together, Edge wasn’t about to waste any of it. “You know where my room is. The door won’t be locked.”

Tension eased in Rus’s shoulders and Edge wondered at it. What was going on in that skull of his, did he think that this was merely a one-night stand? That they’d spend the rest of his time here awkwardly circling each other until he was finally back on the boat?

“i’ll be there,” Rus said, “oh! speaking of locks, here’s your keys. figured i better give ‘em back before i lose them or something.”

He handed over the key ring and Edge took it, tucking it into his pocket. Rus stood, carrying his plate over to wash it and set in the drainer. Still, he lingered, hands tucked in his pockets and how was it that Rus seemed less bold now that they’d sex.

Edge wasn’t above a little teasing. “If you want a kiss, you’ll need to come get it.”

“oh, really?” Rus smirked then, uncertainty fading, “that how it is, boss?”

“Don’t.” Edge pushed his plate away and turned to sit backwards on the bench. “Not when we’re alone.”

That smirk softened and Rus nodded. “yeah, i get that. edge.”

The sound of his own name couched with deliberate sultriness made a shiver run down his spine. It took two steps for him to reach Rus, crowding him back against the sink.

With a single finger, Rus traced a line down the front of Edge’s shirt, following the shape of his ribs. “decided to bring me a kiss after all?”

“Yes,” Edge growled and he could see that throaty sound crackle in Rus’s eye lights. But when he leaned up, he only brushed his mouth lightly against Rus’s, ignoring his confusion as he stepped back. “Now go get to work.”

“sir, yes, sir,” Rus sighed in mock disappointment, “i’ll see you tonight.”

He turned on his heel and walked out, Edge watching the sway of his hips as he went. His own body was offering a fierce argument against letting him go, warring with his sense that knew he didn’t want Rus to fall behind in his research.

“Down, boy,” Edge murmured to himself alone. He retrieved his plate, washed and rinsed it, then headed back to his quarters. He still had more paperwork of his own to do, he’d be seeing Rus soon enough.

~~*~~

His work was never ending between the station and the Institute, but hours later, even Edge was starting to run out of things to do. He kept on, working much later than normal, knowing he wouldn’t be able to sleep. Anticipation wasn’t a common indulgence for him and he couldn’t help but enjoy it, even as his impatience grew.

The light knock came well into the a.m. hours, the door cracking open and Rus stuck his head inside, his body quickly following. His face was skill flushed from being outside, his eye lights sparkling. Perhaps from the aurora blazing overhead but Edge liked to think some of that delight was for him.

That hope seemed proven when Rus said teasingly, “you didn’t need to wait up, i found my way back.”

“Who says I did?” Edge challenged. He kept working on a shipping report that didn’t need to be done for at least two weeks. “Let me finish this, then we can--” He let the sentence hang in the air, unfinished. Whatever Rus wanted, if only to sleep or to have sex, Edge was willing. The urge to simply be with Rus was driving him and he refused to be ashamed.

Rus stepped further into the room, peering over Edge’s shoulder curiously, “whatcha doing?”

Edge lowered the lid of his laptop enough to hide the screen. “I beg your pardon, you didn’t let me see your research.”

“Fair enough,” Rus laughed. He turned away, looking around the room curiously.

That morning wouldn’t have given him much time for an inspection, not that there was much to see. A sparse bookshelf, Edge was an avid reader but he prefered e-books to save on space. Most of the shelves held equipment necessary for living in the cold climate. There was one picture of his team, Undyne laughing, one arm around Alphys and the remaining fingers in her other hand held up in a ‘v’. His brother was slightly blurred and half out of the frame, caught only by Edge’s hand on the scruff of his shirt. Bonnie took the picture, but her shadow loomed over them all, a reminder of her presence.

Rus picked it up and studied it, setting it back down with care as he moved on, but there was little else to see. Edge kept his possessions minimal, a habit from a lifetime of moving on before they’d settled at the station. With nothing else to entertain, Rus flopped back onto the bed, mussing the blankets as he sprawled. His smile was unmistakably sly as he let his knees fall apart, hips rising as he stretched with a groan.

Ah. Paperwork could not hold Edge’s attention in the face of that invitation. He saved the order and closed his laptop, prowling the short distance to the bed. But instead of settling between those invitingly spread legs, he straddled Rus, grinding deliberately against him.

Rus’s sockets went wide, his eye lights huge and flustered, and Edge frowned.

“Do you not want to? You said you usually top.” Edge started to move off of him. But Rus caught his hips, holding him still.

“i do...just didn’t think you would,” Rus struggled to sit up, kissing him eagerly. They were both breathing heavily when they parted, the air between them rich with arousal, “thought you’d rather. um. have me. you’re so—”

Edge didn’t give him a chance to finish, pushing him back onto the mattress before yanking his shirt over his head. Now wasn’t the time to worry about useless stereotypes and Edge forgot them all by the time they were bare together and he was groaning at the feel of Rus deep inside him. Both hands balanced on Rus’s ribcage as he rode him, relishing every wet gasp, every groan of bliss as Rus gripped his hips and tried to urge him faster.

His own groans were pleasure-soaked but wordless.

Have me, he couldn’t say, take me, be inside me. I trust you. Words he’d never said to anyone, not even his own brother, and he couldn’t say them now.

He only hoped the sentiment carried through and by the time they were arched together, their soft cries of pleasure echoed between kisses, he thought perhaps it had.

~~*~~

Morning came far too early, though waking with someone in his arms was a welcome change. Edge reminded himself not to grow accustomed to it. Their time was limited and he was only to take what was allowed to him.

Rus seemed less happy about the early hour than Edge, mumbling a creative amount of swearing as he stumbled to his feet.

“Breakfast is soon,” Edge said, implacably. “And you need plenty of calories to bolster your magic if you’re going outside often.”

“yeah, yeah,” Rus yawned, “thanks, boss, i know.” But his grin softened it and Edge only slapped him on the backside he’d only just covered with his pants.

When Rus made to pull on his wrinkled shirt, Edge tugged it away and replaced it with a clean one of his own. Pants he would allow for a few wears between washings, but doubling up on shirts was unacceptable. Laundry tokens were meant to be used.

There was plenty of time before breakfast as they headed out, Edge still holding Rus’s hand. There was no point in hiding their relationship, gossip had likely already rampaged through the other researchers, and if Edge were honest, he admitted that he was reluctant yet to let Rus go for the day.

That was how Red and Undyne found them, the two of them together filling the narrow hallway, giving no room to pass by.

“you!” Red snarled as he stormed up. His eye lights were blazing, fiery crimson filling the sockets.

“me?” Rus said, bewildered.

Edge slowly dropped his hand, drawing on the role of leader as he asked, “What’s wrong?”

"i knew it!” Red burst out, “i knew there was something about you! coming in, making all friendly!”

“Red, just tell the Boss,” Undyne said, low. Her expression was stony and cold, none of the raucous welcome she’d shown Rus before. She crossed her arms over her chest, her biceps bulging even through her sleeves, and somehow that was still less of a threat than Red’s ranting fury.

“one of the portable cores is missing!” Red snapped and a chill went down Edge’s spine. “you brought it back with you from the shelter and slotted it back into the charger, and now it’s gone. there’s no one else who has keys to the storage lockers but us,” he thrust an accusing finger at Rus, “and him.”

“me? i didn’t--” Rus protested. He was blinking too hard, his face too pale, strained.

Undyne interrupted him, coolly reminding, “Boss, he had your keys.”

“what? i only used them on the storage locker to get my gear,” Rus cried. “and even if no one had keys, someone could have forced that lock, it wasn’t exactly fort knox!”

“oh, yeah?” Red sneered. He stepped forward and Rus stumbled back, flinching from his hard, fierce gaze. “except no one else came anywhere near the lockers but you! what’s real interestin’ is there’s a blank in our recording equipment last night. so i checked the trackers and yours is pretty damn unusual. wanna explain this?”

He held up a printout, thrust it at Rus accusingly. It was covered with marks in bright red ink, circles and arrows scattered over the paper. “you start one place and two minutes later, you end up halfway around the station, wanna explain how that’s possible without you fucking with the data?”

A hectic flush blotched Rus’s cheek bones and a shadow fell across his strained face, “it’s...it’s part of my magic, i take shortcuts! it’s faster and i don’t spend as much time in the cold!”

“shortcuts, right,” Red snorted. He tossed the papers at Rus, making him flinch. “shortcuts to stash whatever shit you’re stealing!” Tension thrummed in his small body, both hands clenched into fists and Undyne snagged the back of Red’s jacket to hold him back as he barked out, “do you work for the embassy?”

“all monsters work for the embassy!” Rus snapped. “you’re the only ones who ever left!”

“yeah?” Red’s smile was coldly humorless, his jagged teeth gnashing, “or maybe some people think we ain’t so far gone. that what she thinks? queenie thinking that we still belong to her?”

“that’s not what i meant, i don’t-- i didn’t take anything!” He looked at Edge wildly, reaching out to him, his hand hesitant, but Edge could only stand with his brother and his damning evidence. His soul was pounding in his hearing, the sound of it smothering him as he numbly tried to remember everything he’d told Rus, any whispered secrets that should have been kept. He’d known better, should have known, the only ones he could trust were here in this station and he’d still allowed himself to forget, to play at something else.

The implications of the Embassy coming here to steal a portable Core were horrifying. For them to even know about it meant there were other spies in the past, the Queen who’d cast them out privy to any of the work Alphys did. What she could do with that knowledge would put Asgore’s atrocities to shame, with Core power it could be a war of the likes Humans had never seen. What else had Rus seen in the lab visiting Alphys, using his friendly cheer to gain access he never should have had.

The silence drew out. Distantly, he could hear other voices, the other scientists moving through the hallways unaware, heading for their breakfast and none of them knew what was happening so close by.

Rus’s face slowly crumpled, his pale eye lights on Edge as he said brokenly, "wh...but...can't you trust me at all?"

"why should he?" Red snarled before Edge could say a word. "the only thing he knows about you is the color of your cock!"

"That's enough!" Edge snapped.

Rus took a step back, looking like he'd been slapped. His eye lights skittered between the three of them and found no mercy, only cold glares coupled with Edge’s stoic silence.

Rus’s expression hardened, thin orange burning on his cheek bones. “fuck this. search my room if you think i‘m a thief.”

“oh, i already did,” Red assured him, “while you were busy cozying up with my bro!” He jerked his head at Edge. “maybe we should be searching his room, see if can figure out what else you pocketed.”

“search anything you want,” Rus spat, his breath heaving, almost a sob, “wanna search me?” He grabbed the hem of his shirt, Edge’s shirt, yanking it over his head, then the thermals, leaving him bare from the waist up. The long flat ribs and delicate collar bone Edge had caressed so gently that morning on display even as his hands went to his belt buckle.

“Stop,” Edge said hoarsely. Next to him, Undyne shifted uncomfortably but didn’t look away, only kept her hold on Red’s shirt. His brother stared flatly, unimpressed.

“oh, sorry, don’t like the show? i guess you’ve already seen it if you’ve been watching that close,” Rus sneered out. He was already shivering, the hallways weren’t as warm as the private rooms. “fuck all of you. i didn't take it!"

"yeah? then where is it?" Red shouted.

"I have it." The words came quietly from behind. They all turned in unison to see Alphys was standing there, looking small in her lab coat as she wrung her hands, fingers twisting.

"I t-t-took it last night,” she forced out, each word desperate, “Th-the cameras were off because I w-w-was doing some upgrades. I c-can’t work on anything else w-w-while that’s running, so i w-went to get the core device, i w-w-wanted to check the o-o-output after u-u-usage.” She was shaking, face flushed and spraying saliva as she struggled with her words, each one strangled out of her, “I d-d-didn’t think about how th-that w-would look. I d-didn't know you’d th-think it w-w-was, th-that it w-was--”

"Aww, honey, it wasn't your fault." Undyne went to her, kneeling to pull Alphys into her arms. She buried her long face into Undyne’s shoulder, clawed hands clutching at her gratefully. Red watched, stricken, his face bleached pale and eye lights shrunken, but they all turned at the broken little sound behind them.

Rus was crying, pale orange tears streaming miserably down his cheek bones, dripping from the point of his chin. He wrapped his arms around his bare torso, hunching over into himself and they all watched as those silent tears fell accusingly.

"i really thought all of you were different,” Rus whispered, almost to himself. ”i thought this place...i was actually...fuck, i'm so stupid."

"Rus--" Edge started softly. He reached out but Rus slapped that hand away, stumbling back.

"don't! don't touch me!”

He turned and almost ran off, back towards his own quarters, leaving Edge standing with his people, watching him go.

At his side, Red sagged against the wall; that righteous anger drained away and taking his strength with it. He lowered his head into his hands, fingertips digging in to the stocking hat that concealed his battered skull. "boss...bro...i'm sorry."

"It's not your fault," Edge said. He kept the words calm, didn’t allow any of his inner turmoil to escape. The iron control he’d learned working for the guard served him well leading the station and it served him now, barring away his guilt, his pain, letting him carry it along untouched until he was alone. Then he could let it loose to tear through him.

"What the fuck?" Undyne turned towards them, though she kept her hold on Alpys as she spluttered, "It's absolutely his fucking fault! He’s been trying to pin something on the fashion victim from the start because of a damn patch on his jacket!"

Red hunched down further but Edge shook his head.

"No, Rus was right,” Edge said. Each word fell precisely, as cool as a chip of ice. “I didn't trust him at all. He hasn't done a thing to make me suspicious and I didn't even offer him the benefit of the doubt.”

“Yeah, well,” Undyne said heavily. She pressed a kiss on top of Alphys’s head, held her closer as their scientist’s shoulders shook along with the muffled, shrill sound of her own crying. “You’re not alone in that. All three of us went at him.”

Edge nodded, but that didn’t matter. He was the one Rus gave himself to, the one he’d generously granted his trust only for Edge to brutally reject it at the first fractional glimpse of possible betrayal.

It all led to a perfect storm made of their own suspicion and it left Rus as the one to take the brunt of it, and there was nothing left of Edge’s quiet hopes for him but dust. Some part of him cried out at the unfairness of it; he wouldn’t have Rus for a month but only for a couple bittersweet days. He ignored it, pushed that voice aside with the rest of his turmoil. There was nothing else to be said and Edge turned on his heels and headed back to his own room.

His appetite was gone.

tbc

#spicyhoney #papcest #keelywolfe #underfell #underswap #underfell papyrus #underswap papyrus #underfell sans #undyne #arctic au

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eldritch-composer · 5 years ago

Text

happy 12th birthday, twewy

@composeregg it’s only uhhh like an hour late in my time zone but i did it

its that final day scene (or scenes i guess) ya’ll know the one but i’ve never written a twewy fanfic so here goes nothin i guess

Title: Final Day

Word Count: 1580

Warnings: Spoilers obv, but yanno nothin graphic

Hidden as you are, you can still feel, and you can still hear.

You can feel Nekus vibe, loud as it always has been, but more vibrant and, dare you say, in tune than ever before, as he enters the Room of Reckoning (as if you haven't been keeping an ‘eye’ on him the whole time).

You can hear Megs' rant through the walls, going on about your absence. It's funny, how sure he always is of everything.

You almost cringe as he starts talking about music, though - he's way off the mark. That's why he'd never make a good Composer. Not as good as you, at least (wink). Heart almost in the right place, but troublesome nonetheless.

Somewhere along the way his love for the city itself got in the way of him remembering that it was the people - the unique, unpredictable people - that made the city so amazing in the first place.

And he's full enough of himself to explain to Neku exactly how the Red Skull Pins work, and then ask him to take his own Player Pin off. Like you'd pick a Proxy that would be swayed so easily.

Tsk, tsk, Megs.

Although, Neku's missing the point, too, Shibuya shouldn't stay exactly as it is - but the monotony of Megumi's ideal world would kill the city just as dead. It's a one bullet, two bullet kind of deal.

You hear Neku shout as Megs steals his pin anyway, and he realizes it's your interference that prevents him from imprinting on Neku quickly enough, but of course he doesn't know what you actually did.

Just a spare Player Pin - nothing too exciting. The Player Pin was always going to be your Proxy's greatest weakness - Megumi was bound to try to attack it at some point if all else failed.

Poor, poor Conductor, predictable as always, even without your normally flawless foresight.

Limited by his own understanding of the world.

You hear the commotion as they begin to fight in earnest, and a spike of anxiety shoots through your chest, something you haven't felt in a good long while.

Megs might be predictable, but your Proxy....

It had been a long while since you'd felt very much in regards to anything, especially a Game, but that boy, Neku Sakuraba, he kept managing to surprise you.

Good. Maybe he will still be able to win.

You grind your teeth. You hope so.

But now - it's almost time.

You enter the room - or rather, attune your frequency to the occupants.

"I'm back, Megumi." The expression on your face is firmly in the 'smug' position - you've earned it, you'd say.

Neku stutters, his mind clicking together pieces, although he doesn't see the whole picture yet; you can hear the notes of confusion in his vibe.

"Your timer must be nearly ticked out."

He manages to get his words together, but Megumi is still going on.

He does manage to surprise you, just a little, when he tries to use you like a battery. You're still tuned-down way too much to be of any real use to him though, and thus your Proxy takes down your Conductor!

Divine providence, one could call it.

You chuckle. "It seems I've won."

"No! It can't end like this.... Who else will protect Shibuya? Then...you'll do as You intended?"

You think back to the deal you made him. It was true what you'd said back then - he really had piqued your interest, the idea of reshaping Shibuya without destroying its current progress. And interacting with your Proxy had cemented the idea in your mind.

From that moment you'd been playing two Games. It was the second - the one against Neku that had yet to be decided. You'd thought both had been decided from the start, but again, Neku had surprised you, not only with his choices but with the intensity of his Soul once he had a reason to live again. The Game doing it’s job (for once).

"You're going to erase it.... The streets I know and love, gone...." You could feel it anyway, but while he had you 'caught,' you could feel Megumi's Imagination more strongly than ever before. You knew he really was motivated by love.

Your smile becomes, perhaps, a little more genuine. "You did well, Megumi. That was one of my more enjoyable Games."

"I gave it my all, Sir. I have no regrets."

"You know, I liked your idea. Shame it didn't work out." A lie, but a pleasant one, seeing as he won't be around much longer. Truly a pity to lose him, though.

“You gave me a wonderful opportunity, he responds, finally straightening himself out after his defeat, attempting a final moment of composure. So like him. “Thank You, Sir.” Only a moment and a bright flash of light to indicate his Erasure, fading into the background noise of the city.

“Joshua? What’s going on?” Neku questioned, finally coming closer to fill the gap Megumi left.

Now it’s your turn to fight your Proxy.

“All of this was a Game - one set up by me.” You say it casually, almost get a kick out of the shock on his face as he tries to figure out any way he can to deny the truth.

“What? Then that means you’re-,”

“Let me make it obvious. Hmm, I suppose they’ll serve.” You turn your attention to the other two, not making themselves of much use anyway. You don’t need to do anything extreme to them, Gosh, you aren’t cruel. You just keep them still, you don’t need them getting in the way when it counts, and it serves as a perfectly adequate display of power.

You feel a smile pull its way onto your face and you laugh. “It was me, Neku. I’m Shibuya’s Composer.”

“What? But that…can’t be….” His refusal to believe you betrayed his trust just goes to prove how far he’s come - from shutting out the world so thoroughly only an Angel’s voice could reach him, to trusting, hee hee, you.

“I know that must unsettle you. Especially since we spent all that quality time together. Still, it’s the truth, and I need you to face it. Megumi and I decided to play this Game to determine if Shibuya should exist or not.”

You can see the horror seep into his face as he pieces everything together. “Then everything I’ve done…. All of it….”

“Mm-hmm. You were playing for my team. Really, you did a bang-up job.” You smirk, “I couldn’t have won without you.”

“Then…. What have I done!?”

“I had one role in this Game: picking the Player who would play for me. One boy....from the RG.”

You see the light in his eyes as he responds, “...Me?”

“Very sharp, Neku! Give yourself a hand. I knew I picked a winner.”

And so you explain the rest, and give him his memories and watch him fall to his knees. You watch his face, eyes wide with horror and beginning to fill with tears as you hear his music changing, but….

“It was you! …. I thought I finally found a friend I could relate to…. But it was you! You killed me!” He declares this triumphantly, and his confidence brings you joy. You chuckle.

“Now, Neku, why don’t we play one last Game?” You nudge the gun still on the floor with your foot slightly.

Neku, however, is still fuming and doesn’t pay attention to your obvious suggestion. “You tricked me….”

“The winner gets to be the Composer, and do whatever he likes with Shibuya. If you win, you decide. If I win, I’ll decide. ...Of course, I’ve already decided.” And you have - even if that decision isn’t what he thinks. But dear Neku doesn’t need to know that.

“You’re a monster….”

And that one kind of hurts, in a weird way, which you file away to think more about later, definitely later, but for now -

You smile wider. “Neku? You’d better pick up that gun. I mean, this is going to be a duel. I’ll keep the rules extremely basic. I’m going to count down from ten. On zero, we shoot. See? Easy.” As if it were.

“Don’t screw with me Joshua!”

“I assure you, I’m not. Life’s little crossroads are often as simple as the pull of a trigger.” Or the flip of a coin, but this way is so much better, you think. So much more visceral.

And you can see it on his face, everything he’s experienced the past few weeks, all the change he’s undergone, and it surprises you that you don’t immediately praise yourself for his progress.

You’ve changed too. But the Game must go on.

“Neku…. Hee hee, your face is priceless. Don’t you remember what Mr. Hanekoma told you?”

Trust your partner.

“I’m just….”

“Oh, before I forget!” You don’t want to hear him say it, you want to see it. “I’ve collected your entry fee. Now..... Let the Game begin.”

You draw your gun and begin the countdown. Finally the tears spill over in Neku’s eyes and though he raises his gun he doesn’t shoot.

You win.

You win, and your prize, little does he know, is having Neku Sakuraba, in the RG, inspiring other humans, keeping Shibuya worthwhile.

Yes, you think, this Game was definitely worth it. Even if it will be a mess to clean up after, hee hee.

#text #twewy #fic #fanfic #really its a character study #but i worry that its kinda flat...#but shoutout at egg for being so darn #positive and supportive all the time #you're rad #hope u enjoy

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drink-n-watch · 5 years ago

Text

Well, here we are. It was quite a ride! Demon Slayer was not without its lows, but it’s highs were impressive and now that season 1 is all said and done, I can confidently say that I am very happy I got to watch this! But maybe I’m getting ahead of myself here. First, let’s get to some important stuff: How are you Crow?

Hi, Irina! I’m doing well. I hope you enjoyed your week! Gotta say — this episode’s energy surprised me. It felt more like an opening than a closing! Oh, I’m bold, and we’ll likely have spoilers. Don’t want to mislead anyone!

For those of you that may not know – Demon Slayer was Crow’s recommendation and I’m sure glad he made it! How about we get this finale rolling.

When the episode opened back in Shinobu’s hospital, I thought we were in for another training montage and although I enjoy those, it seemed a little lackluster for a last episode, you know?

I was pretty happy when we suddenly moved to some creepy otherworldly demon meeting. Let’s say that poor guy’s question of “Where the Hell is this” may have been a little too accurate! But as hellish as it was, that twisty house was superb! Don’t you think?

It was architecturally fantastic. I felt like I was inside an M. C. Escher painting. It was also really cool to see how the demons themselves reacted. More than one of them were completely freaked out, which gave even more power to the feeling of unease. I’m pretty sure Crow hadn’t noticed my title when he made this comment….

And it was beautiful, too. This show excels at making evil look good.

As it happens the lower 5 kuzukis (Rui’s contemporaries) had been brought together by a rather dissatisfied Muzan. But they didn’t quite know that yet. I have been consistent in my praise for the Demons’ designs in Demon Slayer, and this episode was a treat in that regard. The lower 5 were just as varied and interesting as the hashiras but they don’t have to conform to a uniform or reasonable designs which made them even more interesting to me.

It’s impressive how much effort was put into each of their very individual appearances and even personalities considering how much time they got.

The range was amazing and the designs vibrant with individuality. One of the demons was more classical in that she had horns. The other, Lower One, was quiet and almost conservative, but here eyes and facial markings made it clear she was a demon. Even without know what was to come, there was something about her that marked her as particularly dangerous. Maybe the way she walked? How she stayed calm when some of the other demons were clearly skittish? Whatever it was, the show continued its tradition of being gorgeous.

Turns out, Muzan had decided to be a beautiful Japanese lady that day. No one knows why. Just in the mood for it I guess. It’s all good. The thing is, this particular design overlaps somewhat with lady Tamayo, and it’s never in your advantage to compare yourself to Tamayo

I don’t know about you, but a female Muzan felt terrifying in a way the male form never did for me. It might be that I kept seeing Michael Jackson instead! But his female form? Dang.

What follows was an education. It made sure I had properly assimilated the lessons of this season of Demon Slayer. (I say this season, I’ll get back to it).

First, being a Demon is no fun. It simply isn’t. They might grin like cheshires but no one wants to end up in their shoes. Well, maybe some people do but they are not o.k. Demons are without value even to each other as even kuzukis’ lives are cheap. Although I guess those aren’t exactly “lives”.

Second, Muzan is a monster, and whatever humanity he may have had has leaked out a while ago. There’s little point in hoping for any type of understanding. He’s also a rather horrible boss. I certainly have a whole new appreciation for mine after this episode.

And third, Tanjiro is special. Out of everything that is happening to encite Muzan’s rage; all the priorities he may have with the Demon Slayer corp nipping at his heels; the one thing he cares about is getting the slayer with the hanafuda earrings. At this point I’m seriously beginning to wonder why Tanjiro doesn’t take those earrings off, they constantly get him in trouble.

What were your takeaways from the scene?

His interactions with them were brutal. Of the demons was dumb enough to beg for mercy. What was he thinking? Another tried to argue; that didn’t get much farther. A third tired to escape — you can guess what happened to him. And when another tried to plead his case, Muzan accused him of disagreeing. “Whatever I say is right is the right thing,” he said as he killed the poor demon.

By the end of the scene, that’s how I thought of these blood-thirsty creatures — poor demons!

But did you see how Lower One watched the others die before fashioning her response? “This is like a dream to me,” she said. “To die by your hand in person… I thank you for leaving me for last.”

He “spared” her by giving her an injection of his own blood, which will give her a power up — if she survives!

You’re absolutely right. Being a Demon is no fun!

After Muzan neetly culls his troupe, leaving only one particularly interesting looking one behind (this guy (or girl – seems Crow thinks it’s a girl and he may be right) will make for some great cosplay – also that gravity defying transition shot was the bomb!) the episode brings us back to the present where Tanjiro, Zenitsu and Inosuke seem to have mostly recovered from their wounds. And just in time as it seems the “train incident” is getting worse!

Before leaving on their new mission though, the boys have on last day at Shinobu’s to say their goodbyes. We mostly follow Tanjiro, though, and he is his usual overly earnest and touching self. First he takes on Aoi in a scene that was touching but rang hollow to me.

Aoi is chastising herself for not being an active combattant and Tanjiro cheers her up by saying he’ll carry her feelings in battle with him. I would feel worse if someone told me that. Aoi works tirelessly to help slayers recover. She basically was their nurse, doctor, maid, cook and physical therapist for months. That’s no small feat! Why is Tanjiro just basically saying – Yup you’re a coward but it’s OK cause I’m brave! I know it was animated and conveened as words of compassion and encouragement and that’s how most fans will see them. Just for me, I thought the double message was pretty amusing.

I didn’t take it that way — and I think this might be a case of a gender bias I didn’t realize I had. I saw the scene as touching: Here was Tanjiro being the combat form of Tooru Honda again, spreading cheer and forgiveness! But if I put myself in Aoi’s position, and if Tanjiro were to say that to me, I would feel humiliated.

I’m reminded of when the two Kakushi grabbed Tanjiro and Nezuko back in episode 23. Tanjiro seriously wanted to head butt Sanemi for stabbing Nezuko, but the Master finally convinced him to stand down. As the two Kakushi carried our two heroes to the hospital, one of them practically screamed that she was furious with him for putting her in such a terrifying position. “Ready the room!” she yelled at him. That’s Tanjiro, though, isn’t it? He’s so earnest that he often misses little details — like he does later with Kanao!

Then Tanjiro bid farewell to Kanao in a scene that was akin to emotional fanservice. I’m saying that as a good thing. I do think most fans would really enjoy this scene. It was very sweet.

For a second I thought Tanjiro may actually have lost the coin (I thought he was going to throw it away for a bit as well), and that the entire thing would have turned to slapstick comedy with Kanao royally beating him up. It stayed sweet instead.

This is where Tanjiro showed his oblivious side again! When he told her that he was going to flip the coin to determine if she would listen to the little voice in her heart, she almost looked panicked. The prospect was clearly scary for her! He showed her it was heads and was so happy that he grabbed both her hands. He had no idea what he was doing to her feelings at that point. He was just focused on the idea that he had helped her move forward!

And when he gave her his carefree grin and said goodbye, he had not a clue the emotional confusion he left in his wake. He had just introduced a huge change into his life, then skipped off to war!

Seriously, Tanjiro, read the room!

I forgot to mention that we also saw scar boy in the halls and I don’t know what type of Demon steroids he’s been taking. I think he was roughly the same size as Tanjiro last time we saw him, now he dwarfs him. And it’s not like Tanjiro has been laying around on the couch eating chips or anything…

Can confirm. Not a single chip was consumed.

Were you as surprised as I was by the fact that all three of them could break the big jugs with their breath? Zenitsu and Inosuke actually ended up taking their training seriously enough to not be left behind. That’s pretty impressive. I figure Inosuke may have powered through on brute force but Zenitsu must have actually put in the work at some point!

They even got a reward from the three scary therapy girls. With the way they handle Zenitsu and Inosuke, I’m thinking just send these three after the demons, they’ll make short work of it. Or is that too mean to the demons?

I didn’t think they were scary! To be fair, I didn’t try to subject them to emotional blackmail like Zenitsu did. I loved how they told him, “Maser Zenitsu, please try to learn how to be considerate and respectful of girls.” I laughed even harder when he asked if they were even a little sad he was leaving.

In unison, they answered, “We are not sad.”

From that perspective? I can see how scary they can be! And good for them.

As the last scenes were coming up, I realized something. This isn’t an ending. As in, not even close. It’s a clear set up for the next arc. There’s no pretense that the story has any sort of end point here. You might as well have stopped the season mid sentence.

The reason it took me so long to realize this though is because the boys were about to board a train. A first for both Inosuke and Tanjiro who have lived isolated in the mountains their entire lives. So it was up to city boy Zenitsu to be the voice of wisdom. And he was! It was so weird!!

I almost felt dizzy because of that. It was so disorienting!

Not only did this last scene set up the “train incident” it also brought up a lot of other great world building tidbits. Trains are still not common in the countryside, which means the world of Demon Slayer is right at the cusp of heavy industrialization. This is bound to change how Demons live and how Slayers hunt! Tanjiro has visited the big city once, it’s where he met Muzan but he was in a daze and frantic then. I’m not sure Inosuke ever has. How will they take the culture shock? Slayers are not officially sanctioned, and it seems law enforcement does take its job seriously. A clash between Slayers and the government could be an amazing storyline. And why aren’t they sanctioned, aren’t demons a huge problem? All these questions brought up in the last minutes. How mean!

I agree. It didn’t feel like an ending at all. The energy was much more like the first few episodes!

Back in the first episode, I did a little research. According to Manga Tokyo, the series takes place during the Taisho Era, which was between 1912 and 1926. I hadn’t considered that “modern” transportation wouldn’t have reached non urban areas. It was hilarious how Inosuke thought the locomotive was the master of the land — an opponent he had to confront. Tanjiro spoke up, and I thought okay, he’s going to correct Inosuke. But no, he suggested they shouldn’t attack because it might be the “guardian spirit of this land.” Like you said, it was Zenitsu who set them straight.

Did you notice how he was more subdued this episode? Do you think it’s too much to hope this is a permanent thing?

I firmly believe it will last for the rest of the season….

All in all, this last episode was a showcase for what Demon Slayer does best. Breathtaking animation, ambitious CG integration, eye popping designs mixed with a bit of action, a bit of comedy, a measure of intrigue, a few feels for good measure, and just buckets of blood! It was fun, heartwarming and harshly disturbing all in a single episode without giving me whiplash! What did you think Crow?

I think you summed it up! Oh, do you want to share the news about the movie? Or do you want me to?

Well all we really know for now is that a movie adaptation of the Infinite Train arc has been greenlit. Demon Slayer must be so impressive on a big screen!

*** I had made a gif for my header but it turned out a bit too gruesome so I made a different one. Still it was a nice gif so here it is:

Reviews of the Other Episodes

Demon Slayer: Kimetsu No Yaiba Episode 01: Cruelty

Demon Slayer: Kimetsu No Yaiba Episode 02: Trainer Sakonji Urokodaki

Demon Slayer: Kimetsu No Yaiba Episode 03: Sabito and Makomo

Demon Slayer: Kimetsu No Yaiba Episode 04: Final Selection

Demon Slayer: Kimetsu No Yaiba Episode 05: My Own Steel

Demon Slayer: Kimetsu No Yaiba Episode 06: A Friend fo All Humans

Demon Slayer: Kimetsu No Yaiba Episode 07: Muzan Kibutsuji

Demon Slayer: Kimetsu No Yaiba Episode 08: The Smell of Enchanting Blood

Demon Slayer: Kimetsu No Yaiba Episode 09: Temari Demon and Arrow Demon

Demon Slayer: Kimetsu No Yaiba Episode 10: Together Forever

Demon Slayer: Kimetsu No Yaiba Episode 11: Tsuzumi Mansion

Demon Slayer: Kimetsu No Yaiba Episode 12: The Boar Bears Its Fangs, Zenitsu Sleeps

Demon Slayer: Kimetsu No Yaiba Episode 13: Something More Important Than Life

Demon Slayer: Kimetsu No Yaiba Episode 14: The House with the Wisteria Family Crest

Demon Slayer: Kimetsu No Yaiba Episode 15: Mount Natagumo

Demon Slayer: Kimetsu No Yaiba Episode 16: Letting Someone Else Go First

Demon Slayer: Kimetsu No Yaiba Episode 17: You Must Master a Single Thing

Demon Slayer: Kimetsu no Yaiba Episode 18: In which Tanjiro Dispenses Good Advice

Review Of Demon Slayer: Kimetsu No Yaiba Episode 19: The Bonds That Tie Us And A Family Affair

Demon Slayer: Kimetsu No Yaiba Episode 20: Playing House

Demon Slayer: Kimetsu No Yaiba Episode 21: Challenge Accepted and Be Careful With That Thing

Demon Slayer: Kimetsu No Yaiba Episode 22: Master of the Mansion

Demon Slayer: Kimetsu No Yaiba Episode 23: Hashira Meeting

Review of Demon Slayer: Kimetsu no Yaiba Episode 25: Tanjiro Triumphant and What’s Up with Kanao?

Demon Slayer: Kimetsu no Yaiba Episode 26: The House of Escher Well, here we are. It was quite a ride! Demon Slayer was not without its lows, but it’s highs were impressive and now that season 1 is all said and done, I can confidently say that I am very happy I got to watch this!

#action #anime #Demon Slayer: Kimetsu No Yaiba #Horror #shonen #supernatural

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bards-witcher · 6 years ago

Note

Okay so are you okay with writing the boys as female? Cuz a female Ohm is... Extremely hot 😉 If that's not your thing, that's fine! If it isn't, then maybe some bunny hybrid Ohm? And whatever ship you want?? Maybe some hybrid adoption center thing??(as fucked up as that is-(boy if you aren't accepting requests Imma feel REAL dumb.))

So I kinda mixed the 2 ideas together, not gonna lie I’m kinda iffy about it but I hope you enjoy it anyway. I’d be happy to do more fem!Ohm in the future because I’m currently living for @jhanyaiartist flip au and @jessantom663 drawings.

Plus I’m like always taking requests so just shoot me an ask any time :D

Also, I made it Ohmtoonz because I’m a basic bitch, hope you don’t mind :) but I’m happy to do other pairings as well :D

[Ohm POV]

It had been almost two years since she’d first joined a hybrid adoption agency and ten months since she’d last been taken home by someone. When she’d first joined she’d had hope that she may finally find a home and someone who cared for her, but that was far from the case.

The first person who had adopted her was kind at first, it didn’t take long for her to warm up to him and he seemed almost smitten with her, eager to take her out and show her off to his friends and surprising her with gifts when he returned from work. It wasn’t long, however, before he turned sour, although hybrids weren’t common they could live life like any other person, and when she’d asked to find a job he’d quickly shut her down.

It wasn’t long before he got bored of her, tired of her desire for a normal life when all he wanted was someone who cooked for him and who would look pretty on his arm. He’d claimed that they were going out to the beach that day, that he was going to treat her as it was somewhere that she’d never been before. However, whatever hope she’d had was quashed when instead she was taken back to the adoption agency, the guy claiming she was faulty before leaving without a backward glance.

Despite this she still had hope, hope that there was someone out there for her. For the next few months, the process was much the same as the first. Someone would come and charm her, sweep her off her feet, however, they all had the same ideals, that she was good for little else but cleaning and fucking.

The last person to adopt her had tried to sell her into a hybrid sex ring, she’d kicked and cried and pleaded but it didn’t deter them. Her saving grace had been the cops breaking down the door to the auction room and during the panic, she was able to slip away from her captors and were met with more cops and other hybrids who were to be sold.

From that day on she swore that she could trust no one but herself, that she’d swear off of finding anyone, that she was damaged goods, and would try to convince the agency to help her find a job.

Originally they didn’t take too well to her choice, but after 2 months of completely rejecting the people who wanted to adopt her, they reluctantly helped her to find her first job. It wasn’t much, a part-time barista job just down the street, but it was something, and it’s all she needed.

However, she was quick to realize that the people at her job were little different than those who had tried to adopt her. She’d finish most shifts with a new number from those who were determined enough to try their luck, despite her refusal they’d show up at a couple of her shifts to try and convince her, however, they all gave pretty soon when they finally understood that she wasn’t interested.

It was a Thursday morning and it was her turn to open up the small coffee shop, she didn’t mind the early hours too much, it was easy work and she enjoyed watching the small city come to life. It was with a surprise then that someone entered the shop, he was tall and from the brief glance, she got she could tell he worked out. She put on her best smile as he slowly approached the counter, looking at the large blackboard above them.

“Anything I can help you with sir?”

The man looked stunned for a moment before smiling back at her “um, yeah. How much you charge for a large coffee?” It was easy to pick up the southern twang in his voice which almost sounded like thick molasses, her smile turned more genuine as she answered.

“Black?” The man nodded, allowing her to continue “$2.50, but for you, I’ll make it $2” The taller man smiled down at her, as if studying her for a moment, his appreciative gaze that swept over her body didn’t go unnoticed.

“$2.50’ll be fine, thanks. My old coffee place tryna charge me $4 for a damn coffee, sure as hell wasn’t staying there”

Without another word she got to work, it was an easy enough order and it wasn’t long before she handed him his drink “$2 please” she smiled up at him, noticing him quickly avert his gaze when she’d caught him staring.

“Here, I’ll feel guilty if I don’t pay the full price” With that he handed her over the money at full price, but she was quick to slide the 50-cent coin back to him.

“Call it an incentive for you to come back again” The man took the coin and dropped it into the tip jar before taking a sip of his drink, in the quiet of the shop she could make out the small moan he made.

“Fuck this is a nice ass cup of coffee” She couldn’t help but giggle at the man’s outburst, noticing the small smile he shot her way as if pleased by her response.

“Only the best for our customer’s sir”

“Call me Luke”

“So, can we expect to see you again soon Luke?” She looked up at him through her lashes, she wasn’t above the occasional flirting in order to get tips and to get people to come back.

“You can be damned sure, and not just for the coffee” With that he threw a wink before putting a few more coins into the jar and leaving the shop.

It wasn’t the first time that she’d flirted towards customers, and it wouldn’t be the last, however, something about him stuck with her and in the quiet hours during her shift that day she couldn’t stop her mind wandering to him.

For the next few weeks Luke had been coming into the coffee shop more and more often, he never gave a reason except that the coffee was too damn good, but her co-workers had told her that he’d ask for her whenever he came in.

Most of the time they’d have a short conversation as his drink was made, often just about what they were doing that day and other mundane stuff like the weather. He’d then leave a generous tip in the jar and throw her a wink before leaving.

It was another early morning shift, and she couldn’t hide her excitement at the chance of seeing Luke, her talks with the southerner were often the highlight of her day before she had to return to her room at the agency, not that Luke knew that of course.

However, today he hadn’t shown up, she tried to hide her disappointment as she waited the last ten minutes of her shift, her co-worker tried his best to get a smile out of her, but nothing had worked.

When her shift was finished she returned her apron to the back room, said her goodbyes and headed out of the shop, only to have a tall figure run straight into her. Before she could tell him to watch it she looked up to see Luke staring down at her, face red and sweat on his brow, taking heaving breaths as he moved back to give her room.

“Good, I still caught you.”

“My shifts over Luke”

“Have a drink with me? Please?” She wanted to say no, to follow the rules she’d set herself all those months ago, but with Luke looking down at her, soft eyes pleading at her she couldn’t refuse, especially when it was evident that he’d run here.

She nodded, Luke, smiling in response before he lay a gentle hand on her waist and led her back into the coffee shop. Before they could even think of ordering coffee her co-worker pushed a tray towards them with two coffees and a slice of cake. They thanked him as Luke grabbed the tray and led them to a table in a corner out of the way of prying eyes.

“Thank you… For having a drink with me” Luke smiled at her and she smiled back at him, both staring at each other as they tried to ignore the underlying feeling of something between them, before both taking a sip of their drinks.

It was then that Luke picked up the fork that was alongside their cake, taking a large chunk of it before shoveling it into his mouth, she had to hide her laugh when his face started to turn even redder when he noticed her disapproving look.

“Don’t go eating all of that I want some too” Luke handed her the fork and she took a bite of the cake, dragging the fork out of her mouth as she looked up at Luke, noticing the way that he was staring at her lips.

They then started talking about their days, how Luke had been delayed at the bank and then the market, how he was going out to a party tonight to celebrate his friends’ new club opening.

“Do you wanna to come with?” She was shocked for a moment, surprised that he’d even offer and as much as she wanted to go the agency’s strict 11pm curfew meant that she couldn’t.

“I have plans tonight, sorry” She offered him a curt smile, feeling instantly guilty when he saw the brief flash of hurt cross Lukes’ face.

“Nah it’s cool, just an idea” She could tell he was upset, so in an attempt cheer him up she started to flick her ears around to a rhythm that didn’t exist, happy when she saw Luke laugh a little at her antics. “One thing I’ve always wanted to know is, do you have a tail?”

She blushed as she looked away from his piercing gaze “I might do”

“Can I see it?” She hesitated at his request, in the past, her owners had tried to cover up her hybrid features as much as possible, her tail she could somewhat get away with, but it was near impossible to try and hide her ears. The fact that Luke wanted to see it made her blush even more.

Without a word she stood from her seat and turned around, lowering her jeans slightly until her white fluffy tail was sticking out. She waited to hear what Luke was going to say, half expecting to hear laughter or taunts, what she didn’t expect was to feel a gentle hand touch the ends of the fur covering it.

She shook her tail a little, laughing when she felt Lukes’ hand draw away but when he got the courage to touch it again she moved her tail into his hold, letting him have free reign over one of her most sensitive parts. Eventually, she moved away and sat back down, using her ears to cover her face somewhat from Lukes intense stare.

“I have something for you” She watched as Luke reached into his pocket and pulled out a small box, laying it down on the table between them for her to open. “I saw it when I was out today and thought of you, so…yeah”

She gingerly leaned forward and opened the box, it was a small silver outline of a rabbit on a simple necklace chain. She took it out of the box to have a closer look, it was beautiful in its simplicity and she had no words to offer Luke but ‘Thank you’.

“I know it’s not much but I –“

“It’s beautiful Luke, I honestly don’t know what to say” She unfastened the clasp and went to try and put it around her neck before Luke interjected.

“Let me” She brought her hands back in front of her, waiting for Luke to move around the table behind her before passing the necklace to him. He gently pushed her hair to one side as he reached around her neck, fingers gently tracing around her neck before clasping the two sides together, causing a shiver to travel up her spine.

She looked down at the small rabbit now around her neck, shivering again when Luke moved her hair back in place before she turned to face him, placing a gentle kiss on his cheek.

“Thank you, Luke” They smiled at each other, getting lost in each other’s eyes, she was so lost in them that she barely registered him lightly grazing his fingers up and down her arm.

They stayed like that, too distracted in one another that her co-worker coming round the corner caused them to break apart, a smug smile on his face as he took the now empty cups.

“I-I should go. It’s getting late. Thank you again.. for the necklace. It really is beautiful. Have fun tonight” With a final smile and wave she got up and headed for the door, however she was stopped by Luke grabbing her elbow.

“Let me walk you home”

“No, you don’t have to do that” As much as she liked Luke there was no way she was going to let him find out where she lived, how she lived.

“I’d feel a lot better knowing you got home safe and sound”

“No, it’s fine really, besides you need to get ready for tonight. I’ll see you tomorrow yeah?” When Luke nodded she gave one last smile before leaving the coffee shop, quickly walking the short distance back home and making her way straight to her room.

She was quick to strip herself of her clothes, eager to get into the shower to clear her thoughts when a knock was heard on her door.

“Ryan? You in there?” rolling her eyes she put on her dressing gown and opened her door to see the matron of the house looking down at her. “You’re late back from work”

“It got busy” The glance the older women shot at her necklace as well as her pursed lips showed that she knew it was a lie, but as no rules were broken she couldn’t chastise her.

“As per usual, your offers” she rolled her eyes again as she accepted several folders from the women.

“I don’t know why you bother, you know my answer already” she didn’t spare any of them a glance before tossing them into the growing pile in her bin she kept beside her door for this purpose.

“You know you’re going to have to leave eventually. Either pick someone soon, or I will.” She stood there dumbfounded as the matron turned to walk away, there was no way that this should be allowed and the thought of what could happen to hear made a pit settle in her stomach. “By the way we have a viewer coming in tonight and he wants to see everybody. That includes you, so make sure you look nice”

She slammed the door to her room closed, fighting back tears as she entered the shower, letting out gentle sobs as she slowly started to wash herself. It was only when she felt the chain under her fingers that she managed to gain some semblance of control.

Luke. Luke who had come to the coffee shop any and every day to find out her shifts, who was more than happy to keep her company in the early hours, who had run to the shop in the hopes that he’d catch her. The man who despite having only known her a few weeks, was the one person who actually knew her.

Maybe if she told him, let him know where she lived, that he’d take her in, look after her in the way nobody here did. She turned the water off as she weighed the pros and cons in her mind, unconsciously going through the motions of getting ready as her thoughts weighed heavier on her mind.

Before she knew it there was a knock on her door with the command to get downstairs, with a final look in the mirror, touching the chain that already meant so much to her, she started to make the slow preamble downstairs.

Everybody was already there waiting when she finally got there, the matron tapping her foot impatiently before dragging her to her spot in line. She gave the usual talk, be good, don’t speak until spoken to and all that other bullshit.

She played with her fingernails as the doorbell rang, the matron quickly rushing to the door and offering all the kindness and warmth a mother should show as she guided the viewer in. She didn’t look up as the matron started to introduce him to the first hybrids, only when she heard the older woman start to sputter and shout did she look, only to met with the scene of Luke striding towards her.

She could only stare as Luke stopped in front of her, offering her a small smile as his hands came up to rub at her shoulders before moving up her neck and then finally to cup her face, holding her in his gaze, not that she could look away anyway.

“C’mon, I’m getting you outta here” She raised her left hand to grab his wrist, rubbing her thumb against it and she could feel his pulse racing, or maybe it was hers.

“Luke, are you-“

“Yes. Yes, I’m sure. I want nothin’ more than for you to come home with me” she gave a small nod, trying to blink away the tears in her eyes as Luke smiled back down at her. “C’mon then”

He pulled away from her, grabbing the hand that was holding his wrist as he walked them out, ignoring the calls and threats from the matron and the cheers from the other hybrids.

As soon as she got into the car Luke was quick to get them out of there, loosely holding her hand as he navigated his way through the streets to his house.

It wasn’t long before he parked on the side of the road, with the engine shut off there was nothing but deafening quiet between them.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” She could tell Luke was hurt, but despite this, she stood by her choice

“You didn’t need to know”

“Bullshit Ryan, everyone knows that place is a shithole, you could’ve told me, I could’ve-“

“You don’t understand. My kind are… rare, being there, despite everything is better than being stolen and sold to the highest bidder. So yeah it’s a shithole but it’s the best I got”

“I’m sorry, I-“

“Don’t worry about it”

“Why not get adopted then?” She scoffed at Lukes’ words, he’d said it himself, the place was a shithole, it was only fitting that the people who went there were shitholes too.

“My track record of owners isn’t the best to say the least”

“Then why’d you come with me?”

She turned so that she was facing Luke, seeing nothing but kindness and hope shone back at her “You’re different. You’ve cared more for me than anyone else ever has” She let out a small chuckle, looking down at the space between them “I know it’s cliché bu-“

Before she could finish her sentence Luke grabbed her chin, lifting her face up so that she was facing him again. He paused for a moment, looking down at her lips before slowly moving closer forwards. He gave her ample time to pull away from the kiss he was offering, but instead, she closed the difference between them and connected their lips. It was short and sweet, nothing more than a peck on the lips but nevertheless, they were both breathless when they pulled apart.

“C’mon lets get inside” They were quick to get out of the car, she followed him up the pathway to his house, stepping through the doorway when he held it open for her. She followed him to the kitchen where he pulled out a couple of beers, opening them both before offering one to her.

She took it gratefully, drinking down half the bottle before putting it on the countertop, noticing Luke looking at her with an amused glint in his eye. “I’ve got a spare room made up for you if you want” She could tell that Luke was nervous, if not for the hand he rubbed at the back of his neck it was the way he refused to look at her.

“Oh, I just thought that-“

“Look, whatever we are, I’m happy, but we won’t do anything until we’re both ready” He’d taken both of her hands in his and was rubbing small circles into them with this thumbs as he spoke

She looked up at Luke, using his hands for balance as she stood up on her tiptoes to kiss him again. This one was different than the first, she tried to convey all her appreciation, love and hope she had for the man in front of her when they pulled apart it was only for them to catch another breath before they kissed again.

Eventually, Lukes’ arms wrapped around her waist and she felt herself get lifted up and onto the counter, his hands wandering up and down her back until one hand settled onto her tail and she had to stifle her moan at his touch.

“Luke” She held herself close to him, unwilling to let go in case it all disappeared in front of him, and by the way, Luke held her he felt the same.

“Shhh, I’ll look after you. I’ll always look after you”

#ohmtoonz #ohmwrecker #cartoonz #yeah not gonna lie this took me a while :')#but im pretty alright with the end result

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chanxoo · 6 years ago

Text

Marked Territory

→ Pairing: Yunhyeong x Reader

→ Genre: smut

→ Word Count: 3.050

→ Warnings: car sex, spanking, marking, oral, overstimulation, facial, aftercare

→ Summary: All you want to do is finally decorate the house but Yunhyeong clearly has something else in mind.

Carefully placing the last small box in the trunk, you slam the door shut, dusting off your hands as if it were the most difficult task in the world. Albeit being your own suggestion, you can’t deny that furniture shopping had been far from easy. In fact, it had been a straight eight hours of absolute hell. In the end, the only things you managed to pick up were a few pieces to hang on the walls and a small chest for the main room. Other than that, everything else had been postponed.

“Tomorrow we’re picking up the dining table I showed you. I told them to hold it for us.” He states, shifting the car into drive.

“I don’t know… It doesn’t match anything we have.” Pulling your hair into a sloppy bun, you try to suppress the headache beginning to form at your temples. The last thing you want is to start another argument, but there are only so many times he can get his way before you’ve had enough.

“I think it’s nice. Plus it has enough seats to host both of our families if we wanted to. I don’t see the problem with it.” Rolling your eyes, you return your gaze to the road ahead. Something so insignificant always seems to be the most difficult for you to get through.

“Is that a no?” He challenges, knowing that by the end of this, that exact table will be sitting idly in the dining room, exactly how he imagines it to be.

“I’m just saying… that it’s a nice table. But… I don’t know if it’s the best one for the house.” Despite the decision having already been made, you continue to pursue the conversation. See how long it takes before one of you finally snaps.

“The table you chose wasn’t the best either. I don’t understand why you would pick laminate when we could very easily get the real thing.” Hidden beneath his words, you can sense the annoyance. Both of you are exhausted and the last thing either of you need is to bicker over a piece of furniture.

Deciding to say nothing more, you simply stare out the window at the passing street lights. You are approximately a twenty-five minute drive from home, and if you are going to survive the rest of the ride, then you need to drop it and accept the outcome. Even if you know you’re right.

The moment you feel his palm on your bare leg, all of your muscles tighten underneath you. There hasn’t been a moment in time in which that gesture meant anything innocent. Really, you’re surprised he’s managed this long without bothering to make a move. At least until now.

The way he subtly squeezes your thigh draws your attention, and despite maintaining your nonchalant demeanor, he knows exactly how he’s affecting you. Even with just a small touch, he can feel your skin burning underneath his fingertips. It’s always quite the game. As he moves his fingers closer in between your legs, pulling at the flesh as he reaches the center, you swear in that moment that you stopped breathing entirely. The air that’s caught in your chest pains you, the way your heart beats rapidly without oxygen. It’s addicting to have him touch you like this.

Without forewarning, his fingers make contact with your clothed heat, your dress adding to the layers that you wish didn’t exist. He doesn’t bother to fix it but instead continues to rub against you, alternating between pressure and none at all. You don’t dare rip your eyes from outside the car window, knowing the chase is what gets him the most. He will get your attention. Even if it means punishing you.

“Look at me.” Feigning deafness, you barely manage to retain your composure. In the reflection, you notice the way he shifts his eyes, torn between the road and his hand between your legs.

“Now.” Removing his hand, he waits for you to comply, but when he notices the stillness of your figure, he realizes just how difficult you are going to be. Honestly, he should expect it by now. You’ve never been easy. When he returns his hand, he holds nothing back, rubbing your clit frantically to elicit some type of response. The more pressure he puts, the more you can feel yourself falling apart. He just feels too damn good. When the moan slips from your lips, you can already know a smirk has begun to spread across his face. He actually thinks he won.

Deciding to play along, you glance in his direction, just long enough for him to notice. He doesn’t dare stop his ministrations though, too engrossed in the sound of your whimpers. Neither of you can break eye contact, despite his desperate need to drive in a straight line. Just the adrenaline of it all is enough to get you off. But you suppose you’ll have to hold out just a little longer.

Looking down, you watch as his fingers play against your dress, molded between your folds as he spreads your essence across your skin. At this point you’re nothing more than a mewling mess, seconds away from coming undone. If only he didn’t know. When he removes his fingers, you swear you see nothing but white, the jolting of your muscles in his absence becoming extremely uncomfortable. Having been on the verge, you’re even more inclined to make his life miserable. It’s the least you could do.

Returning his gaze to the road, he tries to ignore your blatant glare, pretending not to hear as you curse underneath your breath. You call him all the names in the book, like the piece of shit that he is, but when you land on one particular trigger, you realize you should have just kept your mouth shut.

“What did you call me?” Slamming on the breaks, you fly forward in your seat, catching yourself right before you hit the dashboard.

“What the hell! Are you trying to get us killed?!”

“What. Did you. Call me.” The horrified expression on your face does nothing to deter him, completely ignoring your question in light of one small word he hates more than anything else.

“I called you a pussy. Because that’s exactly what you are.” At this point you aren’t sure if you’re genuinely pissed or simply doing this to push at his ego, but either way, the blood is coursing through your veins all the same.

Pulling the car aside and parking it, he sits in the seat a moment with his eyes closed. It’s as if you can see the smoke billowing from his ears.

“Get out.” He commands, hands gripping the wheel.

Not wanting to anger him more than he already is, you silently step out of the car, closing the door behind you. You already know exactly how this night is going to end.

It will end with your face deep in the leather of his backseats, screaming his name while he pounds into you from behind.

God how you’ve missed this. Satiating the desires that neither of you can keep in check whenever you are near each other.

Never once have you complained, perfectly complying whenever he feels the need to dominate you and watch you squirm as he works every inch of your body to both his and your own satisfaction. He knows you like he knows himself – intimately.

Waiting patiently, you hear the driver’s side door slam shut, the footsteps across the wet asphalt until he is finally by your side. Neither of you say a word. Opening the door to the back, he nudges for you to get inside. You don’t dare hesitate, knowing full well how he gets when you take too long.

Closing the door, he doesn’t waste a moment before ravaging the skin on your neck, sucking aggressively as he grips the flesh of your thighs. To him, your thighs are everything, the place that he can touch to make you moan the loudest and squirm the most. Any reason he has to punish you, he will use it. Especially if he gets to hear the sweet whimpers that are nothing but music to his ears.

“Lay back.” Following instructions, you lie down until you are flesh against the seats, dress riding up higher along your thighs. Taking a moment to take it all in, he massages your muscles, thumbs inching in between your legs as he returns closer to your heat. With hooded eyes, you can’t help but admire him from this position, the pure concentration etched on his features enough for your mind to wander into dangerous territory. Inching the dress farther toward your waist, you can only lie patiently, putting all your effort into keeping your mouth shut as he works himself up. You are the artwork that fuels him and he’d be a fool not to appreciate what he has. Not that he is ever one to ignore such opportunities.

With your dress around your hips, lace showing beneath the hem, he feels satisfied. You on display for him is everything he could ever want and need, and for a moment, you watch as he contemplates his next move. He could change the game and be sweet or he could be harsh, your fate typically determined by a flip of a coin in his mind. From the way the smirk grows, you can already tell which side it had fallen on for the night. For now, you only pray that he will let you cum.

Placing his palms on your knees, he slowly spreads open your legs, watching as the soaked fabric against your heat pries itself from your skin. He has yet to do much of anything else yet you are nothing less than putty in his hands. The cold air that hits the sensitive area only causes you to shiver, your breath hitching as his eyes scan the entirety of your body, from your core to the lust-filled expression on your face.

“Do you think you deserve to cum tonight?” He asks, placing small kisses on your knee as he awaits your response. As much as you want to say something, the words won’t come out, only leaving you to nod in hopes that it will be good enough. You are a fool to think it would work.

Lifting up one of your legs, he smacks his hand against your bare ass. The sound that reverberates from inside the car sends shivers down your spine, the thought that this is only the first of many doing nothing to ease your racing mind.

“What was that?”

“Yes.” Without hesitation, he smacks once more.

“Yes what?”

“Yes, sir I deserve to cum.” Satisfied with your answer, he releases your leg and returns his attention to your core. Grabbing the waistband of your panties, he slips them off your legs, tossing them toward the front seat and out of the way. With your legs still propped up, he has full view of everything, and the way he licks his lips at the sight only makes you ache more. Taking two of his fingers, he slips between your folds, filling you up in one swift motion. The sigh that falls from your lips earns a satisfied hum from him, watching the pleasure build in your expression as he pumps his fingers at an agonizingly slow pace. He knows better than to give you what you want so quickly, but from the way his erection is painfully pushing against his pants, he realizes he’ll just have to take extra measures to ensure that everything goes smoothly. Even if it means waiting on his own release.

Picking up pace, he watches as your mouth falls open, hand immediately covering it to prevent any noise from coming out. You need so badly to moan, the respond in kind to the way his fingers curl subtly within you, hitting that spot that he knows so well. It takes every bit of power to control yourself, but you can only hold it in for so long before a string of whines make it through the barrier. Removing his fingers, he immediately lifts your leg once more, smacking once for every noise that managed to slip by. In total, it was four. Four glorious stings of pain that now outline your backside.

“More. Please.” It’s not very often you defy him, but when you do, you try to make it worth his while. This time, he doesn’t even question it. Flipping you over entirely, he pushes your hips up until they are directly in front of him. Taking a moment to appreciate the marks on your skin, he kisses them gently, sucking until purple begins to outline the pink. Satisfied with his work, he slaps not only once, but three times more, watching avidly as your flesh bounces in response. The harder his hits, the more he can feel himself needing to cum, and he knows you’re suffering just as much as he is.

“Fuck.” Taking a spot on the floor, he maneuvers your ass toward him, licking a long stripe from your clit to your entrance. With your face in the seats, you find it easier to keep yourself quiet, but the only problem is that you can barely breathe. It seems like he doesn’t notice your predicament, too engrossed as he sucks down on your clit. The more rounds he makes, the closer you get to orgasm, instinctively leaning back against his face. Taking it as a hint, he sucks more harshly than before until your muscles shake uncontrollably in front of him. Coming up for air, you moan as you please, no longer able to hold it in as he pleasures you. It seems to egg him on though, the sounds that you make, and before you even realize, the shockwave courses through your entire body. Without mercy, he continues to abuse your hypersensitive bud, stars beginning to outline the periphery of your vision. Your mind goes numb as your body aches in response to his relentlessness, but it all comes to a halt when he can no longer keep himself in check.

“Sorry baby I can’t wait any longer.” Undoing his belt, he pulls out his erection, already leaking with precum. From the way it throbs, you can tell he’s been holding himself together for quite a while, and the thought only turns you on more. Aligning himself, he pushes himself inside, stretching you out as if he was befittingly made just for you. The amount of love you have for him is insurmountable.

Gripping onto your hips, he continues to pound into you, his movement becoming sloppy the more into it he becomes. Neither of you are able to control yourselves, with him being more expressive in his grunts as he inches toward his orgasm.

“Fuck, come here.” With a simple command, he removes himself from your entrance, hand gripped tightly around his erection while he waits for you to turn around. Once in front of him, he hastily strokes himself, no longer able to keep his eyes open. From your spot underneath him, you watch as his face contorts with pleasure, the veins on his arm bulging as he concentrates on the feeling of euphoria. Grabbing onto his thigh, you open your mouth as you wait, the image alone finally bringing him over the edge. The moment his hot seed lands along your lips and your cheeks, you feel a sense of relief. Not that he wouldn’t have cum either way, but because it often results in growing fondness toward your lover who really does nothing more than drive you crazy most of the time. It means that above everything, you still love each other obnoxiously, so much that he’s often willing to jeopardize the nice seats of his car just to make you feel good.

“You okay?” He asks, already pulling out the wipes from underneath the seat. With one eye closed, in protection of your assets of course, you nod slightly, instead choosing to sit as he delicately wipes the mess from your face. With the most important part cleared, he leans in for a kiss, the molding against your lips only pulling a moan from him. All you can do is smile as he pulls away, his overwhelming cuteness just making your heart grow in size. Giving you another wipe, he lets your clean yourself, knowing he’s probably done enough damage to last the next few days.

“My ass hurts.” You state, cleaning in between your legs.

“I’m sorry babe. Want me to kiss it?” Before he can even move, you quickly hop into the front seat away from him. The last thing you need is him going anywhere near your sensitive skin.

Leaning over, he places another kiss on your temple, sliding in the driver’s seat as if it were the most natural thing in the world. Considering how many times you’ve done this, you’re surprised neither of you pull this stunt in your sleep.

“You hungry? I’ll get you whatever you want. Milkshakes? Fries?” Nodding your head frantically, you can’t seem to hide your excitement. You both had been on a budget the past few months in order to save enough money for furniture, but the idea of eating guilty pleasure food is far too enticing for you to pass up.

“You’re perfect, you know that?” Even though he’s said those words a million times before, there is something about this instance that makes it feel special. Maybe it’s the post-sex glow, or maybe it’s the fact that you finally bought your first house together. You aren’t entirely sure what it is, but all you know is you feel it, too.

“I think you’re more perfect. Together we’re super perfect, don’t you think?” Chuckling at your logic, he nods in agreement. With the car finally back on the road, you can relax in your seat, but not before holding his hand tightly, staring out at the moon as you ride to the land of shakes.

“We’re still getting the table tomorrow right?” From the corner of your eye, you watch as he tries to hide his grin.

“Yes Yunhyeong... we’ll get the damn table.”

#netkon #yunhyeong #yunhyeong smut #ikon #ikon smut #yunhyeong drabble #yunhyeong fic #ikon drabble #ikon fic #i know i have other wips but i needed to get this out of my system #and its me saying sorry for taking too long to post #hjdqndjqk

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finn-nelson-for-the-win · 6 years ago

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The Good Life: Chapter 7

Hello, my lovelies! I’m back from mt very brief vacation and am trying to get back into the groove of work, uni, writing, life in general, and posting on a regular-semi-regular basis. I generally try to get new chapters posted on Fridays, so please forgive me for the slightly late posting.

Need to get caught up? The Good Life: Ch1, Ch2, Ch3, Ch4 , Ch5, Ch6

If you want to be added (or removed) from the tags list for this story, just feel free to let me know!

@pink-royaute @believethaticanandiwill @milllott @likeashootingstarfades @i-dream-of-emus @eveerez

The Good Life: Chapter 7

The final beats of the song faded away and there was a brief moment of quiet before yet another rap song that Rae did not recognize began flowing through the speakers that had been strategically arranged around the entire house. Rae glanced down at the bottle of cider she had been nursing as she stood near the couch, catching up with a few of the people that she had not seen in a while, and was disappointed to see that it was nearly empty. “So, Rae...I’m guessing you’re not a fan of this music either, huh?” Archie asked as he walked to stand next to her. “Is it that obvious?” Rae asked with a chuckle as she swirled the liquid in the bottle she was holding and drank the last of it in a single gulp, “I don’t listen to very much rap. It’s just not really my scene, ya know?” “That makes sense. I like some rap music, but this is just shit, honestly. I have no clue who is controlling the music, but I know it’s not Izzy or Chop!” “Yeah, they value my friendship with them far too much to think playing this music is acceptable,” Rae joked, “Speaking of which...where are the two love birds right now? I haven’t seen them around since I first got here.” “Izzy and Chloe left with a group of people about half an hour ago to go get some food. I think Chop and some of the lads might be out back smoking.” “Ah, I see,” “Oh, and uh—Chop and Izzy broke up earlier this week.” “Again?” “Again.” “Do you know what happened this time?” “Not a clue. They’re still talking and still seem on really good terms this time, but after the fourth or fifth break up, I honestly just stopped asking why they broke up.” Archie rolled his eyes and chuckled lightly as he took a sip from his red plastic cup. As much as Rae loved both Izzy and Chop and considered both of them among her closest friends, they were everybody’s favorite on-again-off-again couple and it was nearly impossible to keep up with the changes in their relationship dynamic. “Do you know whose birthday this is a party for? All I know is that Chop invited me to the party, but I have no clue why exactly there’s a party tonight in the first place.”

“I think it’s Julie’s birthday. Or maybe her birthday was the last party Chop host. I’m not sure either. I feel like everyone just uses Chop’s house for the go-to party location because he has a house and roommates that don’t mind the noise and everyone else lives in apartments or doesn’t have enough space to throw a proper party, ya know?”

“Yeah, that makes sense,” Rae replied with a laugh.

As a new group of people walked into the room, narrowly avoiding running into the people that were leaving that room at the same time, Rae could hear loud cheers and applause flowing through the door to the backyard.

“Do you think we should go out back to check out what all the noise is about?” Rae asked as she nodded towards the open door on the other side of the room.

“I suppose we could use from fresh air. There’s too many people in here right now anyways,” Archie replied with a shrug.

Archie and Rae made a quick detour to the kitchen to grab a drink before heading outside through the door being propped open by a half-empty case of cheap beer.

When they stepped outside, they saw that a crowd of people were gathered around a long table to watch the two-on-two beer pong game that was in progress.

On one side of the table against one of the walls, Rae noticed Chloe and Izzy watching the beer pong game with rapt attention and when she met eyes with them she and Archie walked over to join them.

“There you two are, we’ve been standing awkwardly by the couch for the last 30 minutes trying to figure out where everyone went!” Rae replied with a laugh.

“Sorry about that,” Izzy replied, “I was inside a bit earlier, but Chloe dragged me out here to watch the beer pong game.”

“Oh really? I didn’t know you were such a big fan of cliché drinking games, Chloe!”

“I’m not, but I am a fan of the ass on that boy right over there,” Chloe replied with a smirk as she nodded her head towards one of the beer pong players that was bending over to pick up the rogue ping pong ball that had bounced off of the table.

“These four lads pretty much always have a beer pong rematch at all of these parties. Neither team is particularly good at beer pong, but they have a lot of fun with it and they’re not too hard on the eyes.”

Rae chuckled and gave each of the players a once over, stopping only when the lad Chloe had pointed out noticed her looking at them with curiosity and shot her a friendly smile.

“Hey Archie!” he called when he noticed Archie standing along the wall beside Rae.

“How’s it going, David?” Archie called back in response.

“Pretty good. Eddie and I aren’t doing so well this round, but I think we can come back and beat Blue and his mate,” David replied before returning his focus back to the beer pong game.

“Ah, so you know ‘David’...hmm, interesting…”

“It’s not like that, I swear. We used to have the same Ancient Civilizations lecture together, so we got to know each other a bit. His mate Blue on the other hand…” Archie trailed off with a smirk.

“Blue? Is that like a nickname or what?”

“Nope! Not a nickname. He’s the one in the black shirt on the other team. He’s a pretty cool guy and I’ve never really spoken to him too much, but I’m fairly certain that I’m going to marry him.” Archie whispered in reply, making Rae laugh loudly.

“Hey, my throw wasn’t that bad! You don’t have to laugh!” Blue called out to Rae with a laugh.

“Sorry! I wasn’t laughing at you, I swear. My mate just told me something funny.”

“You don’t have to lie to spare his feelings, love. How about I show you how a real man sinks a throw,” David replied cockily only to miss the cup he was aiming for entirely.

The game continued in much the same fashion for a while--each team seldom gaining any points despite the amount of shit-talking going on--and before long both teams were tied and struggling to break the tie in order to officially end the game.

“Hey, Chloe! Are you any good?” David’s beer pong partner asked as he nodded his head towards the beer pong table.

“Yeah, Chloe is pretty good at handling balls,” Rae joked under her breath as she leaned towards Archie so only he heard.

“So, it looks like Chloe’s mate has jokes. Come on over here and we’ll see who’s laughing then,” David’s partner quipped.

“What are ya doing, Eddie?”

“I want this game over as soon as possible and we’re not really getting anywhere with just us four, so I thought maybe we could use a celebrity shot as the tie-breaker. Is that alright with you?”

“Ah, good idea. We can let the ladies choose which team they want to represent though.”

“I’ll be on David’s team,” Chloe called out as she walked towards the end of the table where he and his partner stood.

“Perfect, it looks like you’re going to be playing for our team. My name is Blue, by the way,” he replied with a wide smile.

“I’m Rae,” she replied as she picked up the ping pong ball from Blue’s outstretched hand.

“Alright ladies, I’m going to take a leap and assume that you both know the basic rules of beer pong,” David said and waited a moment for both Rae and Chloe to nod in agreement, “so the rules for a celebrity shot is pretty simple: you each go one at a time trying to land a ping pong ball into a cup. The first one to make their shot wins for their team. You’ll both just keep going back and forth until one of you makes their shot. Sound good?”

Both Rae and Chloe agreed and they flipped a coin to determine who would be up first to take their shot.

Chloe was up first, so she stepped up to the table and tossed her ping pong towards the cup she was aiming for. When the ball clipped the edge of the cup and bounced out, the entire crowd groaned in sympathy.

“It was so fucking close!” Chloe complained, “Alright, Rae-Rae...your turn now!”

Rae stepped up to the table with wide eyes and began trying to plan out which cup to aim for. Blue rest a hand on her shoulder and gave her a final shoulder squeeze of encouragement before stepping aside to let her take the shot.

Rae got into position to make her shot and took a slow, steadying breath before closing her eyes and tossing the ball across the table.

It wasn’t until the loud cheers and chanting began that Rae opened her eyes and realized she had sunk the small plastic ball in the opponent’s cup, making her and Blue’s team the winning team.

“You, my dear, are a total badass!” Blue said as he lifted both his hands up to give Rae congratulatory high-fives on their shared victory, “If you ever want a partner to play beer pong with, just let me know!”

Rae laughed and returned the high fives as he walked away to join his friends who were currently walking back into the house through the back door.

“Go Rae! That was great!”

“Oh, it was nothing really! Just beginner’s luck, I’m sure—!”

Rae gasped mid-sentence when she felt a pair of arms wrap around her from behind and someone rest their chin on her shoulder.

“That’s my Rae! Always so humble even when she just kicked ass at beer pong and won the game for those guys!”

“Finn! There ya are! You can’t just go around sneaking up on me like that. When did you get here?”

“I was out back smoking a spliff with Chop and the lads, but I caught the tail-end of the game and saw you make the game-winning shot as if it was the easiest thing you’ve ever done,” Finn replied with a chuckle as he turned his face to give Rae a kiss on the cheek.

“Oi, get a room you two! Wait, this is my house! Don’t you dare go into my home and defile one of my rooms with your perverted behavior!” Chop joked as he approached the gang and scoffed at Rae and Finn who were still wrapped in an embrace.

“Fuck off, Chop!” Rae replied with a laugh as she removed Finn’s arms from where they had been wrapped around her torso and gave Chop a gentle shove in return.

“I’m actually going to get another beer. Can I get ya anything, Rae? Another cider, maybe?”

“Yes, please…actually I’m tired of cider. Can I get a cup of the Jungle Juice? Archer says it’s really good but really strong,” Rae said.

“Of course, love! I’ll be right back,” Finn said as he leaned to give Rae a peck on the cheek before walking back towards the house.

A few moments of silence passed with all of her friends giving her the same looks of judgement and surprise to varying degrees before the tension became too uncomfortable for Rae to put up with any longer.

“What are all of you staring at me for?”

“Don’t play dumb, Rae,” Chloe said, “you and Finn are acting awful close tonight. Is there something you’re not telling us?”

“Uh, no...?”

“So, you two aren’t a couple yet?” Izzy asked and if Rae didn’t know any better, she may have mistaken the slight drunken slur in her voice for being disappointment.

“Whoa, definitely not! He’s just…well, he’s Finn. We’re close, obviously, but not like that! I can’t believe you lot really thought that Finn and I are— “

“Fucking insane how many people show up to these parties, huh, Chop?” Finn said as soon as he walked out the back door of the house carrying his bottle of beer in one hand and a red plastic cup in the other.

“Thanks, Finnley,” Rae replied as she took the plastic cup from his hand and took a drink, cringing slightly at the potent and sugary mixture of alcohol.

“My pleasure, Rae! Do any of you know where James headed off to? I let him borrow my lighter and I want to make sure I get it back before I leave,” Finn replied as he took a swig of his bottle of beer.

“I think Blue and the rest of the guys who were playing beer pong went out to smoke with him, so maybe try there?” Chop replied as he gestured with his head towards the yard where people tended to gather to smoke.

As soon as Finn was out of earshot, all eyes turned back to Rae and she took a long drink from her cup to avoid meeting their eyes.

“Look Rae, we don’t want to pry or overstep our boundaries, but we really care about ya,” Archie began.

“Exactly! We’ve been telling you that we weren’t sure how the arrangement between the two of you was gonna work out, but we tried to keep an open mind,” Chloe continued.

“We just wanna make sure you’re happy and that you don’t get hurt in any way.” Izzy added with a nod.

“I appreciate that, really, but none of you have anything to worry about. Finn and I work surprisingly well together and I don’t regret it at all.”

“Even so, if he ever steps out of line or doesn’t fulfill his half of the deal, I’ll gladly kick Finn’s arse for you. I don’t care if he’s one of my best mates or not,” Chop added with a wide grin.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Rae replied with a smile when she looked across the yard and saw Finn walking towards then holding his favorite purple lighter in the air triumphantly.

“I found it!” He said as he rejoined the group, “I’m actually planning on heading out of here now, I think.”

“Leaving already, Finney boy? You definitely aren’t the same wild teenager who could party on a weeknight and go to college the next morning without trouble that I used to know and envy, now are ya?”

“Fuck off, Chopper! I’m only leaving because I’m tired of looking at your ugly mug, actually!” Finn quipped before getting pulled into a playful headlock by Chop.

Rae finished drinking the last of her drink and walked the short distance to place her empty cup into the bin.

When she returned to the group, Finn was pulling his arms into his leather jacket and drinking the last of his beer.

“Are you ready to leave now too, Rae?”

“I think I am, yeah,”

“Alright, sounds good,” Finn turned towards the rest of the gang as they said their goodbyes and good nights before gripping Rae’s hand in his gently, “come on, Rae. Let’s head back home!”

Finn and Rae walked back into the house and through the party hand-in-hand as they made their way to the front of the house where Finn’s car was parked outside so they could go home together.

A/N: So I’m not sure if anyone recalls this or not, but I actually posted a preview of this chapter in December/January, long before I ever actually got started on working on this larger overall story or had a title for the multi-chapter that would eventually become The Good Life. This chapter is the longest that I’ve written for this story thus far, but hopefully y’all enjoy the additional 1000ish words and don’t hate how long the chapter is!

I’m still loving all the love that this story has received over the last weeks, so if you have liked/reblogged/replied to one or more chapters or have sent me messages saying how much you’re enjoying this story, just know that I appreciate you dearly. Until next time: Stay awesome, my friends! :)

#mmfd #my mad fat diary #mmfd fanfic #my mad fat diary fanfiction #finn-nelson-for-the-win #my writing #the good life: ch7 #the good life

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rosegardentwilight · 6 years ago

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Steal My Heart Chapter 2

A03

Summary: Prince Plagg had waited for the day that he could meet his betrothed, but when he does, he is met with a different reaction than he expected. He becomes determined that despite her mistaken assumptions, he will woo and win the Princess’s heart. Meanwhile, Prince Adrien finds himself thrust into an adventure after a brief encounter with a thief named Ladybug.

Plagg found himself once again pacing in his room, all thoughts leading back to the Princess. He had hardly slept the previous night—instead, his body tossed and turned with anticipation. There was no reason for Tikki to change her mind about spending time with him, and yet, she had.

Was it to appease her mother? Although, they couldn't have spoken before he asked her. If she still didn't want to see him, was the gesture of changing her mind that much better? He had been waiting for years for this, but she hadn't been the most welcoming of hosts.

"Your Majesty."

He looked up at the knock on his door. He threw all thoughts to her motive into the back of his mind and went to open the door. "Yes?"

"Princess Tikki is waiting for you in the great hall,” Pollen replied.

The statement turned his stomach inside out as the nerves kicked in. “Uh—Where is the great hall?”

“Right this way, My Lord.”

Plagg started to follow without question. As his feet found their way, his mind began to wander instead.

“Something I can ease your mind about, Your Highness?”

“The Princess clearly already had her mind made up that she didn’t like me yesterday, and yet, she agreed to see me today.”

“Maybe she realized that there’s wisdom in giving people a rightful chance.” She motioned to the door, “There’s the great hall, if you need anything else, please let us know.”

Plagg stared at the door for a good minute before realizing his company had left him.

Tikki had become lost in thought rather quickly after Pollen volunteered to fetch the Prince. She never spent much time here, especially after her father passed. Looking at his portrait hurt too much. It was too easy to wander into the ‘what would he think of me now?’ whirlwind. Her eyes connected with another picture, one of the royal family. Her parents looked so in love. In the painting, too was her as a little girl, she couldn’t pinpoint the age, but the way that the artist captured the light in her eyes she could tell she was happy back then.

“You’ve really grown up since then.”

Plagg’s voice caught her completely off guard. Had she been lost in thought for that long?

“I don’t even know how old I was when they painted that,” she confessed sheepishly.

“You looked happy.”

“I was,” she reached out almost to touch the frame. A soft smile formed as the sound of memories filled her mind. She ran her hand through her hair to push a stray strand behind her ears. “I still am.”

The silence settled between the pair, neither one knowing what to say next. Plagg didn’t really know what he wanted to do; he just knew he wanted to spend more time with her. It wasn’t that he knew the kingdom well; he hadn’t been here a full day yet. “What’s your favorite spot in the castle?” He asked because, at this point, the castle may be the best place to start. It would allow Tikki to stay comfortable within her home. His heart flipped as her eyes twinkled like the stars he saw every night.

“Follow me; I’ll show you.”

Plagg was grateful that heights weren’t among his fears as they climbed higher up the winding staircase. The further they climbed, the more curious he became. Was there a tower somewhere in this castle or perhaps somewhere hidden away within its walls? He found his jaw drop slightly as they exited onto the stretch of the castle wall. The view was incredible and could match the one from his kingdom, even if they differed greatly. He could see the village square, with different vendors setting up for the day, and the light shift through the crops that lined part of the horizon. He could see why this place ranked among her favorites. “I stumbled on this section of the wall when I was 14. And although I wasn’t allowed to go out of the castle unsupervised, I could come up here and pretend that I was down there. My father often joined me from time to time, and we would sit up here and talk about everything and anything.” “You must miss him.” “More than anything.” Plagg wanted to do something, anything, to make her feel better. He wasn’t a sorcerer; it wasn’t as if he could bring her father back. Instead, he reached over, grabbing her hand and provided a reassuring squeeze. “I wanted to apologize for my behavior yesterday. I made some assumptions about you before I met you. I behaved rashly, and that wasn’t fair to you.” “What made you change your mind?” “I remembered the times where my father mentioned the kingdom in the mountains that harbored a great ally. He told me that if the threat of war ever got to great that we should retreat to the mountains where we would be given safe passage and protection.” Tikki turned back to Plagg. “He would always point to those mountains. That’s your kingdom, isn’t it?” Plagg squinted enough to see the distant mountains; home didn’t seem so far away. “Yeah.” He breathed out, “it is.” “The way my father felt towards your kingdom remained steadfast throughout the years, and if he could put such faith in you, who's to say that I can’t follow in his footsteps?”

It was the uncomfortable position that caused Marinette to jolt awake. Although she used her cloak as a pillow, it didn’t take anything away from the hard ground. Judging by her sore back, she had to have slept on something in order to be in this kind of pain. She could feel her ankles straining against the rope. The Prince still didn’t trust her, not that she could blame him; she had tried to flee twice already and almost got away with it both times. A warmth dusted across her cheeks as she glanced over at the sleeping Prince. He must have stayed up most of the night to keep them safe. With the daylight providing the light, her nimble fingers made short work of the series of knots that he tied the previous night. When her legs were free, she stood. For the first several days she led him in circles allowing Alya to get whatever head start she needed to get the medicine, no matter what the consequences were on her end. She eyed the pouch resting on his hip. It’s what she would need to get out of this mess. Guilt tugged at her heart again, but she pushed it down so she could successfully lift the bag off his person. Mid heist, his hand jerked up and caught hers. Marinette’s breath caught in her throat. There was no way he was awake; she had been so careful. “Chloe, stop.” He mumbled “I won’t-“ He released her hand a few seconds later.

Her mind began to swirl with curiosity. Who was Chloe, and what was he so adamant about? His tone wasn’t fearful, rather angry. Marinette knew that she couldn’t stand there until she figured out his secrets, not if she wanted to run from the Prince in question. If whatever he was dreaming about worsened, then he could jolt awake.

“Goodbye, handsome Prince.” She could acknowledge his good looks to herself when no one else was around. Not that she entertained the idea, a Prince pursuing anyone not of royal blood would be scoffed at across the seven kingdoms. He belonged in his world, and she belonged in hers, which was why she had to go. There were brief instances where she forgot that fact, and the more time she spent with him, the more lines began to blur. She grabbed anything that she could that was of value and started her escape. She knew she couldn’t pinpoint her position directly on a map, but it wouldn’t take long to reach a small village of some kind, and she could figure out a plan from there. The Prince could fend for himself, he wasn’t in danger, and she was sure he could hold his own against 2 to 3 scouts. She flipped her hood up and started her journey, this time, without looking back.

Adrien groaned as he shifted his position. No matter how much he traveled, he was sure he would never get used to sleeping on the ground. He blamed his bed back home; it was too soft for its own good. He stirred more as the sunlight danced on his lids. When Adrien realized that the prospect of sleep was behind him, he sat up and stretched his sore muscles. He couldn’t remember the last time he had such a rough sleep- Sleep. His eyes shot open only for him to realize that he was alone...again. He had reasoned that he could afford a couple of minutes of shut-eye. Now Ladybug had run off for the third time, and he had to get up and find her. Maybe if she had taken him straight to see Laurence, they would have been able to go there and get back to the kingdom safely, but the journey was extending up to two weeks now, and he knew that Chloe would start to throw a fit. Adrien gathered up his belongings to discover that one of the pouches full of gold coins had gone missing. Instead of allowing anger to overtake him, he found the edges of his lips twitching up in a bemused smile. Whoever she was, no one could argue that she was daring and brave. Luckily for him, he switched over most of the money to another bag hidden so well he doubted that she could find it if she tried. With what she stole, she could afford a day’s worth of food, two if she rationed. There was a nearby small town; he’d bet that she would head there first. Adrien worked his way through the trees for what seemed like hours, no red cloak in sight. “Ladybug,” He shouted at the top of her lungs. Right, his inner voice jeered, like she’s going to come running. “She’s going to get us killed,” he muttered. If they didn’t watch themselves, they could easily drift into another kingdom’s territory, and they wouldn’t look well upon the Prince ducking through the woods chasing after a thief even if he could prove it.

He wandered further down the path and slowed when he heard some grunting. It couldn’t be her—unless she fell into a trap. It was well known that the woods were littered with traps, and if she didn’t know what to look for then finding Ladybug might be easier than he thought. When he ventured over the hill, his eyes traveled up to the source of the noise to see Ladybug struggling against a net rope. She hadn’t noticed his presence, so he took a moment to appreciate the satisfaction that she was going to need him to get out of this predicament. “Are you done trying to run off?” He couldn’t help but allow some of his cheekiness to shine through because, for once, he held all the power. “Depends,” she sighed exhaustedly, sticking her face against the rope a Cheshire grin sported on her lips. “Are you tired of chasing me?” “Never,” he grinned, ”and I’ll always find you.” Moments such as this one had occurred briefly over the last two weeks, where he almost forgot the purpose of their trip and their banter morphed into something else. He couldn’t put his finger on the cause of these moments, but he appreciated them all the same. "Are you going to stand down there all day gawking at me, or are you going to let me down."

Adrien folded his arms across his chest, smile not faulting. "Are you sure that insulting the only one that can get you out of your current situation is your best move."

"Isn't part of being royal that you're required to be charming?"

"I could always leave you here. I'm sure that that the next person that will wander by won't have any problem turning you in and collecting the reward. But I may reconsider if you ask nicely."

Marinette huffed to herself; he wasn't going to make this easy.

“My Fair Prince, would you be so kind and noble to assist a lady, such as myself in cutting the rope and releasing me?” Her word and tone were over the top and flattery tasting of honey on her tongue. He asked her to ask nicely not sincerely, and she refused to bend to that level.

In a blink of an eye, she was free falling until she met a hard surface; the Prince’s arms.

“I do have a name you know.”

Before she could register the world, she was planted on the ground, but her mind was still spinning.

Marinette matched up to him the best she could shoving a finger at his chest. “I thought Princes were supposed to be gallant, how about a little warning next time.”

“I caught you didn’t I? Saved you from landing wrong and injuring yourself.”

He was right, and she knew it. All the anger simmered down in an instant, and her hand returned to her side.

“I suppose a thank you is in order, your high”-

“Adrien.”

“What?”

The charming smile grew to his lips once more. “My name is Adrien.”

Marinette didn’t know what to say, the name danced on her tongue, pleading to be said. If she called the Prince by his first name instead of his title, would that imply that they knew each other deeper than a Prince and commoner usually did?

“Marinette,” she replied. The longer they stared at each other, the more agitated the butterflies in her stomach became. “We should keep walking; we’re wasting sunlight.”

Marinette eyed him as they walked along the path; drowning in the silence. They had some good conversations during their two weeks, but it was clear that they both still had some walls up. She’d enjoyed spending the time talking to someone; she spent enough time alone as it was.

“Who’s Chloe?” She treaded lightly around the subject, mildly cursing herself. Out of all the topics she could have brought up, that was the worse one she could have chosen judging by the way his body tensed. “You don’t have to answer —I just heard you mention her in your sleep.”Marinette, you’re such an idiot. “You don’t have to answer, I”-

“She’s the Princess of Bourdon. My father wants me to marry her.”

Oh. That must be what he was referring to that night in the tavern. “Do you love her?”

The question earned a scoff, “What does that matter in the duty to my kingdom?”

Marinette had never seen him like this. The notion was silly, to spend the rest of your life with someone that you didn’t love. Marinette decided that she’d rather be alone. “And if you don’t marry her?” It was a foolish thought that she couldn’t take back after it was spoken.

He looked up at her with a soft smile, “Come on, let’s go into the town and fetch some more supplies—that is, if you promise not to run again.”

“No,” she gave a gentle smile in return. “I’m not going anywhere.” He could have turned her in and collected the reward or left her gift wrapped in the net for someone else to find. Their conversations sparked a curiosity, one greater than her need for escape. She started to see beyond his title and look at him for who he was underneath. Her plans did usually change in a moment’s notice, and by now Alya had gotten what she needed; there was no harm in keeping the Prince company for a few more days.

So much changed in the span of two weeks. Tikki could hardly believe that her mood had shifted from dreading spending time with the Prince, to said Prince being the reason she got out of bed early in the morning. Her morning routine would run long as she got ready for whatever adventure he had in store for them that day. One of her favorite parts was ditching the handmaiden, who was sent to bring back word to the Queen. Most of the time it was Plagg who came up with the idea, but he always needed her to do something for the plan to work. Today had been no exception, and this morning as they raced around buildings through the town, Tikki had never felt so free. “I think we lost them,” Plagg’s breaths were ragged at best. Today’s stunt involved hiding in the marketplace and making a run for it as another stall distracted their handmaiden. Tikki couldn’t help but notice that their hands had laced together when they ran, and yet, they were still joint at the hand even now. The warmth from his hands traveled through her body before the heat emerged on her cheeks. “Where would you like to go today, Princess?” “That wildflower field, we visited last week,” she replied without hesitation. “We could sneak food from the kitchen.” That field held so many memories for her. They sat together under a tree with one of the most spectacular views in front of them. They talked for hours, the day only ruined by their rumbling stomachs and the fact that they weren’t alone. It was where the plan to ditch was born. It also was the place where Tikki had to admit to herself that she might have deeper feelings for Plagg. The moment hit her when she had absentmindedly made a flower crown during their conversations. Instead of dismissing it, Plagg placed it on his head just to earn a laugh. He then placed it on her head and called her the most beautiful girl in the seven realms. Mindful of the eyes on him he brought the inside of her palm to his lips and kissed it tenderly. After that moment, she couldn’t deny the way that her stomach burst into butterflies whenever he was around, or her heart pounded when he smiled.

“The first person to get there will choose what food to take,” he proposed.

Tikki’s eyebrow raised mischievously. “Deal, and Plagg”- before he could react she pulled him close and captured his lips with her own. It was in the moment, but this felt real, no peering eyes or titles, it was just the two of them. Nothing could spoil the smile plastered on her face as she pulled back. “Ready, go!” She pushed off into a sprint.

Laughter echoed between the two as they ran through the courtyard, she was in the lead with Plagg right behind her, but at the sight of a herd of horses, she stopped dead in her tracks. Another visitor? Any thought was pushed to the side when Plagg caught up with her accidentally running into her. Tikki was sure he would have fallen if he hadn't gripped her arms for support. "My, My, your reputation must have spread among the lands drawing people to come and see for themselves what a wonderful Queen you will be." As flattering as it was, Tikki knew exactly who came to visit her, and it left a restlessness in the pit of her stomach. Duusu was the princess and upcoming Queen for the Pavon* region. She oozed grace as she dismounted, her raven hair in a perfect braid, despite her long journey here. And her dress! It must have been uncomfortable to ride in it. But then again, Duusu did have a flair for the dramatic. There was no doubt that she was up to something, no matter what excuse she gave saying she wasn’t. Drama and Duusu walked hand in hand while her kingdom was known for their ruthlessness. "Duusu," She wore a forced smile but prayed that her company wouldn't be able to tell the difference. "It's been years, what are you doing here?" “Is that any way to greet an old friend?” Tikki bit back her initial reply; she would have to keep Duusu close to find out what she was planning. “What do we owe the honor?” The idea that it was her visit was a privilege made her stomach turn. Tikki only wished that if she were to empty the contents of her stomach in front of Plagg, it would be on the Princess herself. “I come to give my congratulations on your recent betrothal and to speak to the Queen about other matters that need not concern you.” Duusu smile widened when she noticed Plagg behind Tikki. “Your Majesty, I hear that you’ve gotten to know the town well, would you do me the honor of showing me around?” Tikki further edged herself between the two. To not ask her was a slap to the face, but she wouldn’t have enjoyed any of it if she had shown her around. Judging by the amount of luggage, she intended to stay for a while. “I’ll show you to your quarters,” Tikki answered before Plagg could reply. She fully decided that she would stick her on the far side of the castle, away from other guests and especially Plagg.

The only sound as the two Princesses walked through the halls, Tikki was thankful that Plagg took her hint and dismissed himself to the room. He didn't need to be bogged down by anything Duusu was planning. Tikki made a mental note to discuss her concerns with her mother, and the visiting princess would be sent away.

"You can't fool me, you know."

Tikki felt her golden gaze on her but didn't remove her stare from the corridor. "I don't know what you mean."

“Don’t pretend as if word hasn’t gotten out about how you feel about a certain union, and I traveled here as a solution.”

Tikki couldn’t deny what she was saying, there was a point where she detested the idea, but the more time she spent around him, the more she was warming up to it. But if she confronted Duusu with that truth, then she wouldn’t find out the real reason she had come into her kingdom. “I’m listening.”

“If Prince Plagg can be—convinced that there are other possible kingdoms that are ready to form unions, he might back out of yours. Then you’ll be free as a bird to do whatever your heart desired.”

She wanted to be the one to marry Plagg? What would that accomplish? It wasn’t as if she was in love with him. The more Duusu talked, the greater the desire grew to keep Plagg as far away as possible. “And who would you suggest in this union, you?”

“Why, me of course, it would only be a matter of time before he agrees.”

Tikki tried to keep her anger from growing further as they reached the room, but from Duusu’s tone, it seemed like she thought that she was the only one Plagg would ever want. “I have been more than generous allowing you into my home, but you have just crossed the line. Plagg is my betrothed, and there’s nothing you could do to change his mind. He will see you for how wicked you are. So I’m going to say this once, stay away from him.”

Duusu’s eyes narrowed menacingly, not pleased with the other Princess’s answer. “Like it or not Tikki, I’m not going anywhere. I will steal Plagg’s heart, and there’s nothing you can do but watch.”

#miraculous ladybug #miraculousladybug #adrienette #miraculousfanfic #miraculousladybugfanfiction #adrien x marinette #rosegardentwilight #happy Birthday Alex

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mldrgrl · 6 years ago

Text

36 and Four Minutes

by: mldrgrl Rated: PG-13 Summary: Based off a psychological study I read about a husband and wife team who attempted to create love in a lab. This is set the night before The Unnatural and hopefully acts as a precursor for the season of secret sex ;)

It had been a rough year, to say the least. Mulder could not remember a time in his life where so many shitty things seemed to happen in such a short period of time. The worst of it was, he could feel Scully slipping away from him, little by little. It scared him, to be honest, and he did not behave well when he was scared, which pushed her even further away than she already was. He needed something to bring them back together, to get them on the same page before Skinner took action and tried to send them to another team building seminar. The last thing in the world he wanted to do was attend a team building seminar, and he was fairly certain he was not going to find another pair of mothmen to get them out of it a second time should they be forced to go.

He learned about the study from one of his chats with Karin Berquist, of all people. Though the reclusive and anti-social dog behaviorist put all her energy into canine studies, that was not how she began her career. She told him to look up Arthur Aron’s 36 questions, which he did, and the study of lab-generated intimacy seemed like it would be the perfect tool to strengthen the bonds of his partnership, but first he had to get Scully on board, and that would be no easy task. She wasn’t really talking to him all that much since Phillip Padgett wreaked his havoc on their lives.

Getting her out of the office was essential. He didn’t want to be interrupted by work and he needed her to have her guard down a little. He thought about surprising her at home, but she wasn’t too keen on surprises and treated him with suspicion when he showed up at her door. Of course, every time he had shown up at her door unannounced, he always brought work with him, so she had every right to be suspicious. On Friday night, he took a shot in the dark while she was shutting down her computer for the day.

“You wanna grab a beer with me?” Mulder asked. He had come around to the front of his desk and rocked forward and back against the chair there as he watched her pack up.

“Now?” she answered, zipping up her bag. “I’ve got some things I need to do.”

“Now?”

“Yes. I’ll see you Monday.”

“What kind of things?”

“Mulder.”

He let go of the chair and moved towards her to help her with her overcoat. “Things I could help with?”

“Laundry.”

“Scully, it’s Friday night. Don’t tell me you’re turning me down for dirty clothes.”

“There’s also soe cleaning I need to do and catching up on JAMA.”

“Now I’m hurt.”

“It’s not about you, Mulder.”

The fleeting glance up at him she gave said otherwise and it made him even more determined to get her to come out with him. He had done some asshole things over the years and left her behind at times, chosen other options because he thought they were more important in the moment, but never did he do it because he simply didn’t want to be in a room with her, like she was doing now. It stung.

“Dinner is included,” he said, careful to keep all traces of desperation out of his voice. “My treat of course.”

“Look, I just…”

“...have better things to do?” He swallowed and then nodded, unintentionally playing into her sympathies as he slowly trudged back to his desk. “Some other time then. Have a nice weekend.”

“Mulder…”

“Yeah?”

“One beer.”

Once he had her on the hook, he sweetened the deal ever further by taking her to a bar he’d dropped in on a few times that was by her apartment. It had a relaxed atmosphere, served food, and he’d never seen it busy. They both parked in front of her building and walked the few blocks over to the little hole in the wall. They hung their jackets on a rack by the door and Mulder rolled up his shirtsleeves as he straddled a barstool at the far end of the bar.

At the other end of the bar sat two older men, engrossed in conversation. Behind them, in the middle section of a row of three booths, a man and woman sat together, also engrossed in conversation. At the back near the restrooms, a jukebox played at a pleasant volume, only loud enough to keep the conversations private.

So few and far between were patrons, the bartender had been lounging at his station reading a paperback. He had hopped to attention when the door scraped closed behind them and approached their corner with coasters and napkins at the ready.

“Shiner Bock,” Mulder answered when the kid, probably only just barely able to legally drink himself asked what he would have.

“Same for me,” Scully added. “What are you reading?”

“Um, it’s called Men are From Mars, Women are From Venus,” the young man answered, opening their bottles. “My girlfriend is making me read it.”

Mulder snorted softly. “What was the fight about?”

“She says I don’t listen. Well, she says I listen, but I don’t hear.”

“Could be an epidemic,” Scully said, inspecting a freestanding plastic menu on the countertop in front of her.

Mulder glanced her way and then raised his brows at the bartender. The bartender raised his back as though he understood completely.

“Any advice?” the kid asked.

“She’d probably be the first to tell you that I’m the last person you should ask,” Mulder answered, tipping his head towards Scully as he took his first sip of his beer.

“Relationships are work,” Scully said. “And they take time to cultivate. Take your time and do the work.”

“How long have you guys been together?”

“Seven years,” Mulder answered, just as Scully also replied, “Oh, we’re just…”

“Then you must be doing something right.” The kid glanced between the two of them and then straightened again. “Would you like to order anything?”

“Chicken salad sandwich,” Scully answered.

“Burger, medium rare,” Mulder said. After the kid walked away, Scully gave Mulder a bit of a scowl and he shrugged. “What?” he asked. “You walked into my office March of ‘92. It is now March 26, 1999. Happy late anniversary, honey.” He held his beer out at a slight angle close to hers.

After a few moments, Scully actually picked up her bottle and tapped it against Mulder’s. “I hadn’t even realized it’s been…that long.”

Mulder felt like this was the opening he’d been wanting. He nodded a little and turned towards her on his stool. “It is a long time. And you know, if we go back to what you just said, relationships take time to cultivate.”

“Yes.”

“I read this study recently about an experiment a psychologist performed back in the ‘60s where he wanted to see if he could scientifically cultivate relationships within a lab.”

“That sounds absurd.”

“Well, it worked.”

Scully laughed lightly and took a pull from her beer. “Worked how?”

“Their subjects were married within six months.”

“That’s not really proof of anything though.”

“Aren’t you curious how he did it?”

“You haven’t even told me what he did.”

“He developed a series of questions that people answer together and it can instantly bring two strangers into an intimate relationship.”

“Give me an example.”

Mulder took a sip of his beer and then held up a finger. He backed off the barstool and went over to his jacket on the rack. He fished out the paper that was folded in his breast pocket and went back to the bar.

“You have them with you?” Scully asked, raising her brow.

“You want to run our own experiment?” he answered.

“Let me see.” She held out her hand for his paper, but he held it away.

“There are rules. You can’t read them first. We take turns doing the asking, but we both have to answer.”

“Where’s the experiment in it?”

“Either it’s cultivating, or it isn’t.”

“We’re not strangers, though.”

“No, but...how well do we really know each other?”

There was a look of both surprise and agreement in Scully’s eyes. She took a long drink from her bottle and then placed it on the counter with extra care. She wiped her knuckle across her bottom lip and the corner of her mouth.

“You don’t know what these questions are?” she asked.

“Nope. I only read about the study.”

“What if there’s one we don’t want to answer?”

“I’m willing to answer all of them, whether I want to or not.”

“I don’t know if I can promise that, but alright. I’ll play.”

Mulder smiled and unfolded the paper. He grabbed a napkin from the bar and covered the printed list of questions so that they would stay hidden and then he placed the paper between them on the bar.

“Should we flip a coin to see who goes first?” he asked.

“Just start,” she answered. “Before I change my mind.”

“Number one. Given the choice of anyone in the world, whom would you want as a dinner guest?”

“That’s easy,” she said, immediately after Mulder finished the question. “Eleanor Roosevelt.”

“Oh, come on.”

“What?”

“You said once that you’d try to live in her body as a day, she can’t also be your answer for dinner guest.”

“Last I checked, there were no rules in this questionnaire.”

“Well, there is one rule, complete honesty.”

“And that is my honest answer. Eleanor Roosevelt.”

“Why?”

“She was an amazing woman with an amazing life and I’d like to know more about her from her own mouth. I would love to know how she accomplished all she did. I think she’d be just about the most fascinating dinner guest I could ever hope for.”

“Okay, fine.”

“And what would be your answer?”

“The King, of course.”

“I guess I should’ve expected that. Why, though? Why Elvis and why not...why not George Hale?”

“George Hale? Because I’m having a dinner party, not an astronomy symposium.”

“He’s got to be a better conversationalist though.”

Mulder made a noise of disagreement with his beer at his lips and shook his head. “I beg to differ. Elvis would have stories. Why would I pick George Hale?”

“Wouldn’t you want someone more...intellectually stimulating?”

“I mean, it’s dinner, not a life partner.”

“Oh.” Scully ducked her head a little and hid a smile in her beer.

“What?”

“Nothing. That’s just...good to know.”

He passed the paper her way. “Your turn.”

“Two. Would you like to be famous? In what way?”

Mulder screwed up his face a little. “No. But, I think the better question is, if I had to be famous for something, what would it be?”

“What would it be then?”

“When I was a kid, I wanted to be a pro baseball player. I wanted to play for the Yankees and I wanted to hold records and be in the baseball hall of fame.”

“Did you ever try to pursue it?”

“Nah. It was just a dream. It sort of died on the vine before I was even out of Little League.”

“You played Little League?”

“West Tisbury Diamondback, second baseman, number 14.”

Scully smiled as though she was picturing it. “How old were you?”

“Six. Six, I think, when I started. I was nine when I quit.”

“Why? You seem to really love it. Even still.”

“Things were already kind of rocky at home by then. It was just better if I...you know.”

“Oh.”

“So what about you?”

“No aspirations for fame.”

“But, if you had to be famous for something, what would it be?”

Scully took a few moments to think. She started to answer, then hesitated, and started again after another few moments. “I’d like to discover something,” she said. “Be the first to...find a cure for something or...just something in that arena.”

Mulder got quiet and scratched at the label on his bottle. “Like a cure for cancer?” he asked.

“Maybe.”

“There’s still time.”

“No. I can’t imagine being locked in a lab somewhere running endless amounts of tests. No.”

He wanted to tell her that at least she’d be safe, but he knew she’d find it patronizing. Truthfully, he couldn’t imagine Scully spending her days in a lab any more than she could. But, really, he just didn’t want to imagine her anywhere but his side.

“Mulder?”

“What?”

“Your turn.”

“Right. Three. Before making a phone call, do you ever rehearse what you're going to say? Why?”

“Not now,” she answered. “I don’t have time to think when I make a call, usually.”

“You said not now, was there ever?”

A smile bloomed on Scully’s face and the apples of her cheeks turned a rosy hue. “There was one time, I was about twelve or so, and I kind of had my first crush.”

Mulder smiled as Scully was momentarily lost in the joy of her memory. She laughed to herself for a few moments and tucked her hair back over her ears. It was possibly the cutest thing he’d ever seen her do.

“I was sort of a tomboy growing up, you know?” she continued. “So, I really didn’t...I wanted him to see me as more than the girl he rode his bike to the beach with. And Melissa was the girliest girl I knew. Plus, she’d already had at least five or six boyfriends that I knew of, so I went to her for help.”

“What was this kid’s name?”

“Mikey.”

“I’m guessing you called Mikey in a Cyrano-like scenerio.”

“That is exactly what I did.”

“And what happened?”

“Crashed and burned. He kept asking me why I was being so weird and I was so mortified by the whole experience I cried into my pillow for the next week and refused to ride bikes with him again.”

“That is so sad.”

“It’s a good memory, though.” Scully flashed a smile at Mulder. “Missy felt terrible about it and it brought us closer.”

“I’m glad you have that.”

“Me too. So, do you rehearse your calls?”

“When I was with the VCU, sometimes I found it easier to work off a script if I had to make difficult calls. You know, if I had to question a grieving widow about her husband’s murder or a parent who just lost a child. I found that...it didn’t really work though. People are more responsive to authenticity.”

“I’ve always thought you were good with people.”

“You have?” He paused with his nearly empty beer close to his mouth, genuinely surprised.

“Yes.”

“Being good with people is not something I’ve ever been accused of.”

“You don’t give yourself enough credit.”

Mulder put his beer down and his brows came together. He knew his shortcomings. He had issues with authority. He had no patience for arrogance or incompetence. He was sometimes unduly antagonistic with suspects. He truly didn’t understand how Scully could sit there and say he was good with people.

“You should see the look on your face right now,” Scully said.

“I’m just a little...are you joking?”

“Are you really unaware of how compassionate you are?”

“I...um…”

A lull in the conversation followed. Mulder stared at Scully and she stared at her beer. They’d only made it through three questions and already she’d shocked him, and it was such an innocuous question at that. He suddenly wished he’d read through all the questions so he could see what else might be coming.

“Number four,” Scully said, turning the paper towards her with her fingertips and breaking the silence. “What would constitute a perfect day for you?”

Mulder blinked and cleared his head. “Uh. Um, I think, probably waking up to a sunny day, not too hot, maybe going for a nice run and finding a pick up game of basketball. Ordering a really good pizza and watching the Yankees win the world series. No, being at the game behind home plate. That would be the perfect day.”

“I think the same as you, I’d like to wake up with the sun shining and a nice breeze. I’d probably go to the beach and then have someone take me out in a sailboat for awhile. I want to eat some really good seafood, sit in front of a bonfire for a bit, then end the day with a bubble bath and a glass of wine.”

“That sounds really nice.”

Scully shrugged.

“You want another beer?” he asked, noticing she was running low as he finished his.

“Sure.”

Mulder held up his beer bottle to get the bartender’s attention and then flashed two fingers at him. The kid came back with two more beers and took their empty bottles away.

“Food should be ready in about five minutes or so,” the kid said.

“Do you have any chips or pretzels?” Scully asked.

“Sure.”

“Getting comfortable?” Mulder asked her.

“We’re only on question five and I’ve resigned myself to the fact that I’m not getting any laundry done tonight,” she answered, and then thanked the kid when he slid a bowl of pretzels onto the bar between them. “Besides, if you’re buying, I might as well take advantage.”

Mulder chuckled and slid the paper back in his direction as she munched on a pretzel. He then let out a full laugh when he read the next question and looked at her with a wide smile.

“When did you last sing to yourself?” he asked. “To someone else?”

“You already know the answer to that question.”

“Yeah, but I want to hear you answer anyway. And I don’t know when the last time you sang to yourself was.”

“I don’t sing. I couldn’t carry a tune in a bucket. The last time I was forced-”

“No one forced you. I made a very polite request which you were kind enough to comply with.”

“Shut up, Mulder. You answer.”

“I sang in the shower this morning. A very soulful rendition of Heartbreak Hotel that would make angels weep.”

Scully rolled her eyes. “I’m sure.”

“And I don’t remember the last time I sang to someone. But, if we’re ever lost in the woods again, I want you to know I’d happily sing you to sleep and I’ll even take requests.”

“That is exactly why we’re never going into the woods ever again. Question six. If you were able to live to the age of 90 and retain either the mind or body of a 30-year old for the last 60 years of your life, which would you choose?”

“Hm. Hm.” While Mulder was thinking about the question, their food was brought out. They took a pause to arrange their plates and then he returned to his thoughts. “So the problem is, this question assumes that there will be a decline both physically and mentally. I’m not even actually really worried about either.”

“Really?”

“Oh yeah, I plan to be as handsome and brilliant at 90 as I am today.”

Scully, about to take a bite of her sandwich, burst out laughing and had to put the sandwich back down. “That’s assuming you’re handsome and brilliant,” she said, wiping her greasy fingers with a napkin.

“Um, ouch.”

“You have to pick one.”

“Brains.”

“I think I would go with the body.”

“I don’t believe that for a second.”

“Don’t you remember that time on the Ardent? If that’s what it feels like to be physically old, I’m choosing the body.”

“Damn, I’d forgotten about that.”

“Looks like you’re losing the brains already.”

“Har har.” He gave her a fake glare before turning his attention to the next question. He pursed his lips and glanced at Scully as she finally took a bite of her dinner. “Um. Number seven. Do you...do you have a secret hunch about how you will die?”

“I don’t, remember?”

Mulder looked down at his burger. “You don’t have to answer this one.”

“I think we’ve both come too close to death not to think about it.”

“Yeah, but it’s not something I like to think about.”

“Facing your own mortality is-”

“You, dying,” he interrupted. “I don’t want to think about that.”

Scully wiped her fingers off with another napkin and then she turned herself towards Mulder and put a hand on his knee. “I plan on going in my sleep, peacefully, a long time from now.”

“You can’t plan on that.”

“Don’t get maudlin on me. Not when we’re having such a nice time.”

“You’re having a nice time?”

“I have free dinner, drinks, and good conversation. I’m having a nice time, so tell me how you think you’ll die.”

Mulder laughed and she squeezed his knee before returning to her sandwich. “I don’t know, but I’d like it to be the same as you.”

“You might want to think about that the next time you jump onto a moving train.”

“That’s why I need to keep my 30 year old brain intact to stop me from doing stupid things.”

“Hasn’t stopped you yet.”

“Touché.” He lifted his beer at her in salute and then took a drink.

“Number eight. Name three things you and your partner appear to have in common. Oh, I like this one.”

“I certainly didn’t think we had anything in common when we first met.”

“Well, we were both FBI agents.” She smiled at him as she brought her sandwich up to her mouth.

“Let me think.” He ate his burger, chewing slowly and washing down each bite with a sip of beer. He watched Scully nibble on a slice of pickle that was laid out behind her sandwich.

“Tick tock, Mulder.”

“Okay, we are both FBI agents.”

“Cheater.”

“We both like the same beer. And we both prefer music over talk radio.”

“I don’t, actually.”

“Don’t what?”

“Prefer music.”

“Really? But…”

“I prefer that it keeps you occupied on long car rides. You get antsy when we listen to talk radio.”

“I didn’t know that. I thought that...I didn’t know you were being deferential.”

“It’s to save my sanity as much as yours.”

“We can listen to talk radio if you want.”

“Then I’d just miss out on your enthusiastic air guitar solos.”

Mulder actually felt himself blush at that. Scully never seemed to pay that close attention to him, whether she was driving or engrossed in a casefile.

“My turn,” she said. “We both prefer driving over flying. I think we are both good at what we do. And we have both lost loved ones because of it.”

“I wish we didn’t have that in common.”

“I do too.”

Mulder nodded softly before he moved to the next question. “Nine. For what in your life do you feel most grateful?”

“That’s difficult. I have a lot I’m grateful for.”

He left her to ponder while he ate his burger. He was already low on his second beer, but he didn’t want another quite yet. He didn’t intend to get drunk, and he didn’t want her to be either.

“That I’m here,” Scully blurted suddenly. “I am most grateful, above everything else, that I’m still here.”

“We can name that as another thing we have in common, because that’s my answer too.” He looked at her hand where it rested on the bar and wanted to cover it with his, but he didn’t.

“10,” she said. “If you could change anything about the way you were raised, what would it be?”

“I wish I’d had parents that talked more. To me and to each other. You know, when it wasn’t silent, it was loud. I never knew which was worse.”

“It was always loud at my house. I used to wish for silences. I wouldn’t trade that chaos now for anything, but I used to back then. I guess I would’ve liked to have had my dad around a little more, but sometimes it was confusing when he was home.”

“How so?”

“My mother was a fairly typical woman of her time. She was devoted to her church, her husband, and her children, in that order. Most of the time, we saw her as a very capable, strong woman, until Ahab came home, and it was like he was the king and we were all his subjects. It was easier adjusting to new schools and new neighborhoods than it was adjusting to a mom who suddenly answered all questions with ‘go ask your father.’ And while she was strict, she still never ran as tight of ship as Ahab. Rules changed, bedtimes changed, everything changed in the weeks he’d be there.

“At first, when he’d come home, we were all pretty reverent. Happy to see him, excited he was home, but the novelty wore off pretty quickly. The thing is, he was used to sailors who snapped to attention when all he had to do was walk by. He wasn’t accustomed to rowdy children who were different each time he returned. He loved us, of course, and we loved him, but I don’t know that we ever really knew each other.”

“That’s the most I’ve ever heard you talk about your father.”

“That’s probably the most I’ve ever really talked about it.”

“What would you change then?”

Scully tilted her head and squinted her eyes closed for a bit. “I think what I want, or what I would’ve wanted, is for my mother not to have made him so mythical. And I would’ve liked for Ahab to have acknowledged her more as an equal partner. Or even have acknowledged that she did more than he did.”

“They were happy though, weren’t they?”

“I think so.”

“Well, I think that counts for something.” Mulder paused and snorted when he read the next question. “Take four minutes and tell your partner your life story in as much detail as possible.”

“This is a question that would probably be easier to answer if we were strangers.”

“Why do you say that?”

“I feel like I’d just be boring you with things you already know.”

“We could skip it, if you really wanted to.”

“It feels a little redundant, don’t you think?”

“Okay. Well, go ahead with the next one then.”

“12. If you could wake up tomorrow having gained one quality or ability, what would it be?”

“Easy. I’ve always wanted to be able to be invisible at will so I can get into any place at any time.”

“I think they mean real ability though.”

“Why isn’t invisibility a real ability?”

“Because people can’t be invisible.”

“Oh, you really want to debate that?”

“Okay, okay. Then I want the ability to know all languages.”

“I guess that would be kind of cool. Not as cool as invisibility, but still.” He leaned over to bump his shoulder with hers and she rolled her eyes. “13. If a crystal ball could tell you the truth about yourself, your life, the future or anything else, what would you want to know?”

“I wouldn’t want to know the future, I know that much.”

“Why not?”

“It may not be something I like or want to hear. I think I would like to know where…” She stopped suddenly and sucked in her breath. He put a hand on her back and leaned forward to look at her. “I would like to know the truth of where Emily came from.”

“I’d like to know the truth about what happened to my sister.”

“Then again, Mulder, we may not like what we hear.”

He rubbed her back for a moment in a circle and then dropped his hand. She gave him a small smile and looked at the paper.

“14,” she said. Is there something that you've dreamt of doing for a long time? Why haven't you done it?”

“I did the thing I dreamed of doing a few years back.”

“What was it?”

“Visiting Graceland.”

“When did you visit Graceland?”

“Uh…” He gave her a sheepish look. “You were in Philly.”

“Ah. Well, lately I’ve been thinking about taking a cooking class or dance lessons-”

“Dance lessons! What kind of dance lessons?”

“Any kind. Or a painting class. Something that would put me in the world of other people doing normal things. As to why I haven’t done it, who has the time?”

Mulder was already racking his brain. It was too bad she didn’t mention wanting to learn baseball. He could teach her how to hit and they’d probably both have a lot of fun with it. She deserved some fun in her life. He looked over at her and saw she had a smear of mayonnaise on her cheek. Without thinking, he reached over and thumbed it off. It brought back memories of eating ribs and barbecue sauce on the corner of her mouth. She looked at him then like she was looking at him now, like a mixture of amusement and shyness, but she hadn’t pulled away then and she didn’t pull away now. He thought again about how grateful he was that she was still there beside him.

“Have you had enough?” Scully asked.

“Hm?”

“It’s your turn to ask.”

“Oh. 15. What is the greatest accomplishment of your life?”

“Making it through the academy. In some ways, it was harder than med school.”

“Physically?”

“Mentally. Emotionally. I was one of only four women in my class. Two dropped out.”

“I never knew that.”

“Yeah, but I had the best shot out of all of them. That sure pissed some of those guys off.”

Mulder laughed and unconsciously rubbed the bullet wound in his shoulder.

“What’s your biggest accomplishment?” she asked.

“I don’t know.”

“What about the monograph that put away Monte Propps? That had to be pretty satisfying, all that hard work and putting away a serial killer in the end?”

“Yeah, I guess.”

“It wasn’t satisfying?”

“I’d feel better about it if he hadn’t murdered 13 people first.”

“But your work stopped him from murdering even more. And it brought closure to the victim’s families. That has to mean something.”

“Alright, then that’s my biggest accomplishment.”

“It’s not about what I think though, Mulder, you’re supposed to tell me.”

He couldn’t tell her, though. He couldn’t sit there and tell her that his greatest accomplishment was that he hadn’t succeeded in pushing her away. So he just shrugged and agreed that Monte Propps was his greatest accomplishment and had to look away because he could tell she didn’t believe him.

“16,” she said, quietly. “What do you value most in a friendship?”

“Loyalty,” he said.

“Honesty,” she countered, giving him a raised eyebrow, which he ignored.

“Number 17. What is your most treasured memory?”

For a moment or two, Scully looked like she was going to call him out on the change of subject, but she relaxed the tight expression on her face and her eyes moved up in thought. “My parents woke us up early one morning, before the sun was even up, put us in the station wagon and told us to just go back to sleep, we were going to visit a cousin of ours or something. Turns out they were surprising us with a day at Disneyland. Pulling into that parking lot I felt like I’d never been so excited for something in my life.”

“I guess a kid never forgets his first trip to Disneyland.”

“Did you ever go?”

“No. We didn’t really do the family vacation thing. Summer’s on the island, that was it. Not that I’m complaining. I had a lot of fun back then.” He paused for a second. “Actually, I’m going to say that my most treasured memory involved summer vacation. I had my first kiss and the first time I held hands with a girl on the same day.”

“What was her name?”

“Jenny. Jenny Johnson. Her family lived on the island year round. She had a sister Samantha’s age. Becky, I think. Or Betsy? That I can’t remember, but she and Sam used to play together. I had to watch Sam, Jenny had to watch her sister as well, so we ended up spending a lot of time together. We got permission to take the girls to a carnival that was in town one day and, I took my chances and kissed her when we were on this haunted house ride. Well, first I put my arm around her when she screamed, because I’m smooth like that.”

Scully laughed out loud against her beer bottle and stopped just before she took a drink. “A real Don Juan at--how old were you?”

“Twelve.”

“Twelve. Keep going, I want the full story.”

“Well, it was the kind of ride where things pop out at you and stuff and at first it was a lot of surprise, but then it was just kind of silly, so we were laughing and just before the ride ended, I could kind of see in the dark that we were headed for the doors, and I just...leaned in and kissed her.”

“And then?”

“And then we were temporarily blinded by the sun, but when she blinked at me, she looked like the happiest anyone had ever looked to me. She grabbed my hand when we got out of the ride and we pretty much spent the rest of the day like that.”

“That isn’t really what I expected you to say.”

“What did you expect?”

“I don’t know, but not a sweet little summer romance.”

“Little is right. By the next day, all Sam could talk about was Fox and Jenny sittin’ in a tree, and I got pissed, and then Jenny got pissed that I was pissed and accused me of being embarrassed of dating an islander--I didn’t even know we were dating or what dating really was, and it that was pretty much the end of that. But, that day at the carnival. It was perfect.”

“I guess that’s a good segue into number 18. What is your most terrible memory?”

“Ah, well. I’m going to have to be predictable here and say the night Samantha...well…”

“Yeah. And I’ll say when I found out Melissa…”

“Kind of a shitty thing to have in common.”

“I’ll say.”

“You’re empty,” Mulder said, nodding at Scully’s beer as she tipped her head back and drained the rest. “Another round?”

“I’ll pass.”

“If you change your mind, say the word.”

“You’ll be the first to know.”

“19. If you knew that in one year you would die suddenly, would you change anything about the way you are now living? Why?”

Scully went quiet, her thumb circling the lip of her empty beer bottle. Her gaze seemed to lack direction, like she was staring at nothing. The silence was so prolonged, Mulder became attuned to the jukebox again. Fleetwood Mac’s Dreams was playing.

“Bet you wish you had that third beer,” he said, uncomfortable with the stall in conversation.

A small smile lifted the corners of Scully’s lips, but she still didn’t say anything.

“You don’t have to answer this one if you don’t want to,” Mulder said.

“I’ll answer. I’m just forming my thoughts.”

“Take your time.”

Another bout of silence passed and finally Scully sighed. “When I thought that I was going to die, when the cancer...when I thought I wouldn’t make it out of the hospital, I tried to make peace with the things I would never do. I didn’t want to leave this world with regrets. So, I...I wrote letters. To my mother. To my brothers. To...you. And then I realized how unfair that was, how selfish it was to write the things down I could never say, but not let you do the same. So, I tore them all up.”

His curiosity was instantly piqued. “What did they say?”

“Maybe if there’s a question in there about things unsaid, I’ll tell you. But, to answer this question, when I found out I was in remission, that I was going to be fine, I told myself it was a second chance at some of those things I’d always wanted to do. It’s been, what, two years? I don’t think I’ve done any of them.”

“Let’s change that. Let’s do something on your list.”

“Maybe none of it was as important as I thought it was, if I haven’t done them yet. Or maybe I just didn’t learn the lesson. No, I don’t think I would change anything about the way I’m living now. I’m happy enough with...everything.”

It was the ‘happy enough’ that struck Mulder. He had a notion that there might be one or two things she would change that she was holding back on, but he wasn’t going to push. It was a difficult question to answer and he was struggling himself to come up with something to say.

“All that really matters is whether or not I was a good person,” Scully continued. “Right? To...to God, to those left behind. That’s what’s going to matter in the end. Not whether or not I...I don’t know, walked the great wall of China or something.”

“Is that on your list?”

“No.” Scully laughed. “I was trying to think of a common bucket list item for most people.”

“I feel like the most common bucket list item would be jumping out of an airplane.”

“Okay, then. Is that really going to matter down the line?”

“Probably not. But, you’ll have a good story for the grandkids.”

“Ah, well.”

As soon as he said it, Mulder felt like an ass. He meant it as a figure of speech, but he realized too late that it would bring up some unpleasant truths. Scully would never have grandkids - unless by some miracle. And she didn’t even know the whole story. He rubbed the back of his head uncomfortably.

“Uh, I think I’d do some things differently,” he said.

“Such as?”

“Get out of the office more. Do something fun on a Saturday night that doesn’t involve the gunmen starting arguments in internet chat rooms.”

“Is that what you guys do on the weekend?”

“Not every weekend.”

“Mulder, that’s just sad.”

“And what’re you doing on a Saturday night, Miss Scully? Laundry?”

“Alright, we both need lives.”

“I’d toast to that, but I’m out of beer, and I need to hit the head anyway.” He slid off the barstool and looked to the kid who was filling a drink order at the other end of the bar.

“You want me to order you another?”

“No, I’m good. Be right back.”

Mulder quickly used the restroom and stared at his reflection in the spotted, foggy mirror as he washed his hands. This was the most he’d ever really talked with Scully and he was enjoying himself. He wondered if he could find a way to make it a regular thing. Maybe then his Saturday nights wouldn’t feel so empty.

When he came back to the bar, he slowed his step. The remnants of their food had been taken away and there was a glass of iced tea in front of his seat. Scully looked like she was nursing a diet Coke.

“Didn’t want you to get parched,” she said, as he took a seat.

“Thanks.”

“So. Number 20. What does friendship mean to you?”

Mulder squeezed the wedge of lemon perched on the side of his glass into his tea. He thought about the gunmen, who he spent Saturday nights with or came to for help with technological problems, but didn’t confide all that much in. He thought about passing friendships he’d had in school or in the early days of work, people he went out for occasional beers with, but never saw outside the bullpen. And he thought about Scully, who he felt knew him inside and out and never held things he might have said in the heat of the moment against him, and ordered him iced tea because he might get thirsty.

“I guess it means everything to me,” he said. “I don’t know what I would do without…” He stopped short of specifying Scully by name, but by that point he was only thinking about his relationship with her. “Without someone to talk to,” he finished.

“Someone to rely on,” she said.

“Exactly. What about you?”

“That’s my answer. It means someone to rely on. I think everyone needs that in their life.”

“Agreed. 21. What roles do love and affection play in your life?”

Scully snorted and spoke into her glass. “Not nearly enough as I’d like.”

“Which part?”

“Both.” She sighed. “No, that’s not true. There is love in my life, though I’ll admit I could do better at it. And affection...is something I think I’ve always struggled with. I don’t dislike it, I’ve just never been very comfortable with it either.”

“So, you could use more love and try harder with affection?”

“Maybe. But, I think to answer the question I’d have to say, it probably doesn’t play as significant a role as it could, or even should.”

“That’s interesting.”

“Why is it interesting?”

“Because I feel like you have so many people in your life that love you.”

“Who, my mother? My brothers?”

“Hey, that’s three more than I’ve got.”

“Mulder, I lo...I think you’re wrong about that.”

“Name them.”

“We’re off track. You haven’t answered yet.”

“I’m a big fan of love and affection. When it’s in my life, I think it’s pretty great. I wish it didn’t come and go so easily, because it’s hard not to have it. Sometimes I think I need it as much as I want it.”

“Maybe you’ll find it once you start living it up on Saturday nights.”

“Maybe you will too.”

“22. Alternate sharing something you consider a positive characteristic of your partner. Share a total of five items.”

“You are unbelievably smart.”

“I like how gentle you are.”

“Gentle?”

“When you deal with people in difficult situations. We discussed it however many questions ago. You’re very gentle and I like that about you. I’ve appreciated it in my own difficult situations.”

“Oh.” Mulder blinked. It gave him a warm feeling to know he’d done something Scully appreciated. “Um. You are the most dependable person I know.”

“You are the most passionate person I know.”

“Is that just codeword for stubborn?”

“Maybe.”

Mulder grinned. “What are we at, three? You are more warm than I think you give yourself credit for.”

Scully scrunched her face as though she disagreed.

“See,” he said.

“I think you always do things with the best of intentions.”

“You don’t take shit from anyone, especially me.”

“You…” She closed her eyes and her brows came together.

“Uh oh, I only have three good qualities?”

“I just want to phrase this right. You have an ability to empathize at will.”

“I’ll have to ponder that one later. Last one? I don’t know if I would call it stamina, but for all that you’ve endured, you get back up, you keep fighting, you’re still here, and you’re stronger every time. Resilience, maybe, but it’s more than that. It’s...you’re just incredible, Scully, you really are.”

Scully’s eyes grew glassy and wet. “Dammit, Mulder,” she muttered, wiping her knuckles across her lashes.

“If the next question is what are negative qualities your partner possesses, I’ll start with unable to take a compliment, how about that?”

In response, Scully gave Mulder’s bicep a shove and he laughed as he pretended to slip off his barstool. She wiped her eyes again and then took a drink.

“I admire your ability to be free with your feelings,” she said. “Next question.”

Not that free, Mulder thought, looking at the paper. “Number 23. How close and warm is your family? Do you feel your childhood was happier than most other people's?”

“Close-ish. Not very warm, but warm enough. I don’t think my childhood was more or less happy than anyone else’s. It was sufficient for me, maybe not so much for Charlie or Melissa.”

“What about Bill Jr.?”

“He thrived on routine and order, as you can imagine.” She smiled and then laughed softly. “He would probably say it was idyllic.”

“I’m going to have to say my childhood was less than idyllic, not warm and not close. I don’t think that will come as a surprise to you.”

“Was it always like that though? Even before your sister was…”

“It was tumultuous. I didn’t really know it at the time, I just thought everyone had parents who yelled at each other when they were together, or dads who worked all the time and hit them when they weren’t home when the streetlights came on. It took me a long time to realize it wasn’t great.”

Scully reached over and covered Mulder’s hand with hers, giving it a squeeze. “I’m sorry that you went through that.”

“I made peace with that a long time ago.”

She nodded and withdrew her hand. “Oh, nice follow up question. 24. How do you feel about your relationship with your mother?”

Mulder sat back and sipped his iced tea. He pulled an ice cube into his mouth with his tongue and rolled it back and forth for a few moments before crunching down on it and shattering it into tiny pieces. When he was finished, he sucked in his bottom lip and scraped his teeth across it.

“It’s complicated,” he said. “I wish it weren’t. I think I’ve done a lot in my life to try to...to please her somehow, to make her proud, to protect her, to just...I don’t know. I’m not even sure she appreciates it, but I’ll do it anyway because she’s my mom. I don’t know if what I’ve done for her is out of love or obligation.”

“Sometimes it can feel like that same thing.”

“That’s for damn sure.” Mulder pulled another piece of ice into his mouth.

“I don’t think my mother and I understand each other very well. I know she wanted a different life for me, but also wanted me to forge my own path. I think she also thought at some point it would merge with her own ideals. She makes me feel guilty a lot for not being as present as she’d like me to be. I think our relationship is more about her than it is about me. I suppose that’s fine, but I’d also say she doesn’t know me as well as she thinks she does.”

“Would you like it to be better?”

“Does it sound awful to say that I don’t think I need it to be?”

“Not if that’s the truth.”

“I don’t need it to be.”

“Okay then. Make three true "we" statements each. For instance, "we are both in this room feeling..."

“That’s kind of a weird question. Okay, we are both FBI agents.”

“Oh, come on!”

“We eat together quite often, but it’s been a long time since we’ve had dinner together, if you know what I mean.”

“I do.”

“And, we haven’t talked like this in a long time.”

“Have we ever?”

“There were some times back in the early days of our partnership where we dug a little deeper. Never to this extent, but we’ve had some moments.”

“We should do this more often. That’s my first we statement, by the way, and a general comment. We should do this more often. We make a great team. And we both enjoy the same beer.”

“26. Complete this sentence, "I wish I had someone with whom I could share..."

“Huh. I don’t know that there’s a lot I don’t share with you.”

“Well, that isn’t the question.”

“I know, but what I’m saying is...I mean, I don’t really feel like I’m not sharing something. If there’s something I want to share, I share it with you.”

“There’s got to be something though.” She shook her head dismissively. “You share your slideshows and your theories and your strange depth of knowledge, but not…”

“Not what?”

“I don’t know, life things. What are life things that people share? Intimate things. Their...toothbrushes, their inner demons, their beds, their hopes for the future.”

“Is that your answer? Is that what you want to share with someone?”

“Of course I do, but at the same time, absolutely not.”

“I think we’ve shared some hopes with each other, and definitely demons. As for toothbrushes and beds, just say the word.”

“Are you telling me that you feel fulfilled right now?”

Mulder was momentarily tongue-tied and stuttered out an answer. “I don’t think I can say I feel unfulfilled Are there things I want? Sure. Intimate things? Yeah. I think that desiring emotional or even physical intimacy is a different question from what would I like to share with someone?”

“I think it’s the same.”

“And I would argue that saying I want someone to share a meal with at the end of every day is completely separate from saying I wish I had someone to hold me every night. Both answers imply a desire for intimacy, but a meal is a shared experience and the other is somewhat selfish. So, personally, I don’t interpret the question in that way, but if you want to qualify it and remove ‘share’ from the equation, I wish I had someone with whom I could spend a night with and would still be there in the morning. Absolutely.”

An extended silence followed, one in which Mulder could feel the tips of his ears burning with embarrassment. He never intended to lay the burden of his ache for intimacy at her feet. Not like that. And now it was out in the ether and he couldn’t take it back. Sure, he could make a self-deprecating joke about it, but then it might devalue the whole purpose of the questionnaire. He wished he could tell what she was thinking, but her face was shadowed, her expression hidden by the angle of her chin, down and away.

“Alright,” Scully finally said. “You make a valid point. But, I would like to add that I believe the examples you’ve given can also be a shared experience. You can want someone to share a night with, and then wake up and share the morning as well.”

“Then the most basic answer would always be that you want someone to share your life with.”

“That’s true, but...”

“And I also think in order to be shared, it has to be reciprocated as well. You have to give of yourself, but you have to be willing to receive as well.”

“I suppose if you’re not willing to open yourself up like that, it wouldn’t be a whole life, it would be half a life.”

“I didn’t say I was unwilling.”

“Well, I didn’t either.” She hesitated on her next breath and then laughed a little. “And I honestly don’t even know what the point is that we’re trying to make anymore.”

Mulder sighed silently in relief that the tension he felt was bubbling had burst with her laughter and then hesitantly turned the paper towards him. “Uh, number 27. If you were going to become a close friend with your partner, please share what would be important for him or her to know.”

“I’m sure you already know this, but I don’t open up very often. And I don’t do need very well.”

“I know tonight is an anomaly. That we probably won’t discuss it in the morning, or ever again. It doesn’t have to be that way though.”

She shifted in her seat and tucked her hair back over her ear. “Just answer the question.”

“I’d need her to know that I can be a bit of a stubborn asshole. And that sometimes I am blinded by need and I don’t make the best decisions.”

“28. Tell your partner what you like about them: be honest this time, saying things that you might not say to someone you've just met.”

“That implies I wasn’t being honest the last time I answered the question.”

“Maybe for strangers they could only answer more superficially until they got to know each other.”

“What, things like, I like your eyes or your hair or the way the top of your nose moves when you speak?”

Scully reached up and touched the bridge of her nose between her brows almost self-consciously and then brought her hand down just as quickly and wrapped it around her glass. “I think we can skip this one, unless you feel like there’s something you left out.”

“I do like more than three things about you, Scully.” He smiled and leaned into her teasingly. “But, if your quota was met earlier we can move on.”

“I do happen to like that stubbornness of yours. Just so you know.”

“You do?” He leaned back and scrutinized her, genuinely surprised. “Why?”

“You don’t give up easily, whether it’s on cases or on people. It’s that steadfast determination that gets you results where others may not.”

“I might have to remind you of this the next time you tell me to let something go. 29. Share with your partner an embarrassing moment in your life.”

“I was quite bookish in school.”

“No!”

Scully gave Mulder a flash of a scowl. “I won an award for a state science fair when I was in sixth grade, of which I was very proud of, but you know, other kids don’t really appreciate that kind of thing.”

“Kids are jerks.”

“No one would’ve ever had to know, but the principal read it over the PA in our morning announcements and well...it was bad enough that attention was called to it, but for the rest of the school year, this kid, Stevie, would salute me every time I walked into class and called me Dr. Nerd.”

“Uh, not to diminish your feelings, but Stevie’s the one who should be embarrassed. That’s the lamest nickname anyone has ever come up with in the history of nicknames.”

“Any nickname earned, however lame, can seem like the worst insult in the world when you’re ten.”

“True. I bet you can rest assured that Stevie hasn’t gone on to much success in life.”

“Who knows.”

“Well, contrary to what you might believe, I was not always as agile and suave as I am today.”

“Oh, is that what I believe?”

“I was also ten in my story and I was at a birthday party at a skating rink for arguably the prettiest girl in school, but I was a pretty lousy skater. I made it one round around the rink, mostly holding on to the side, and when I let go and tried to participate in the skate chain, I went ass over elbows in front of the entire class, but all I cared about was that I’d just ate shit in front of Cindy Palmer.”

Scully started laughing before he’d even made it to the punchline, like she might know what was coming. She made a sympathetic noise over her chuckles. “That’s terrible,” she stuttered and giggled at the same time. “I’m so sorry.”

“Childhood is rough. The smallest things seem like the end of the world.”

“That they do.”

“Lay the next one on me, Dr. Nerd.”

Scully gave Mulder a soft kick on the shin with the side of her foot. “When did you last cry in front of another person? By yourself?”

“Few weeks ago when you went to get cleaned up after…” He gestured to his chest. “Padgett.”

“That would be my answer for both parts of that question.”

“I don’t have a real hang-up about crying in front of people. I can’t really remember the last time, but I’m sure it was you.”

“Fair enough. 31. Tell your partner something that you like about them already. Oh come on, we’ve answered this about six times.”

“Skip it. Number 32. What, if anything, is too serious to be joked about?”

“Death of a child.”

“I was gonna say nothing is too serious, but I’m going to agree with you there.”

“Number 33. If you were to die this evening with no opportunity to communicate with anyone, what would you most regret not having told someone? Why haven't you told them yet?”

“Wow. Um…”

“Yeah, this one might be a little…”

“I think I need a minute.”

“Take your time.”

The first thing that came to Mulder’s mind was that he would tell Scully how much she meant to him, but it conjured up memories from his hallway and really he’d already said what he’d needed her to hear. He could reiterate it right here, right now, but it didn’t feel like the right time, to say it only because he was being prompted by a silly questionnaire. If she were a stranger, he would answer honestly, that he had communicated those things one time, he just wished it wasn’t one of those things they didn’t talk about. He chose a different option instead, one that was still truthful, but felt less necessary for him.

“I would want to tell my mother that I’m sorry I couldn’t do more for her,” he said. “Couldn’t find my sister and couldn’t make her happy. As to why I haven’t already told her, well there’s a big part of me that knows it isn’t my fault and that I’ve done everything I could.”

“It isn’t your fault. You have done everything you could, more than enough, Mulder.”

“Logically, yes, I know that. And I shouldn’t have to apologize for it, but I still feel compelled.”

Scully curled her hand over Mulder’s forearm and let it rest there for a few quiet moments. He gave her an appreciative smile and then put his hand over hers. He expected her to pull away, but she didn’t. They stayed like that until the loud scrape of a barstool across the floor broke the solace. He reached for his iced tea and she leaned back on her stool.

“I can’t answer the question,” Scully said, her voice almost at a whisper. “There are reasons that...I just can’t.”

Mulder shrugged. “You don’t need to explain it. It’s just a silly questionnaire.”

She looked down and plucked at the skin next to her thumbnail. “It’s not silly and I should...I lack the courage to...it’s because I lack courage that I can’t answer.”

“You can have half a point for answering the second part of the question.”

She looked up at him and there was pain in her eyes. He couldn’t tell if her anguish was from not being able to answer, or what she would answer if she could. He reached over and swept his hand up and down her back a few times.

“You’re the most courageous person I know,” he said. “That won’t change.”

“Yet I can’t even answer a simple question.”

“It’s not that simple. Let’s just do the next one, we’re almost done. Number 34. Your house, containing everything you own, catches fire. After saving your loved ones and pets, you have time to safely make a final dash to save any one item. What would it be and why?”

“I want you to know that I want to answer it, Mulder. I do.”

“Answer it when it’s the right time, Scully. You’re gonna be around a long time.”

In the silence that followed the deep and uncertain breath Scully took, Mulder changed the format of the questionnaire and just answered.

“Well, since it says I’ve already gotten my fish to safety,” he said. “I think I’d have to rescue my lamp.”

Scully cleared her throat. “Your lamp?”

“My Saturn lamp. My grandfather - my mother’s father, the only grandparent I ever met - got it for me when I was about four or five. It was my nightlight when I was a kid.”

“That’s adorable, Mulder.”

“I mean, I think the couch is pretty unreasonable and I can get a basketball anywhere.”

“No, it’s a good choice. I’d take a photo album I have that was given to me by my grandmother.”

“Mom’s side or dad’s side?”

“Dad’s.”

“Also pretty irreplaceable.”

“Yeah.”

“We went out of order, so go ahead with the next one.”

Scully hesitated when she turned the paper closer and there was a slight hitch in her breath. “I think we’ve already answered this as well,” she answered, and then pushed the paper over to Mulder.

“35. Of all the people in your family, whose death would you find most disturbing? Why? I guess in my case missing might as well be dead and even if your sister hadn’t-”

“I wasn’t going to answer with Melissa,” she interrupted. “It was awful, yes. It’s one of the worst things I’ve been through. But, it’s not the worst thing.”

Mulder puzzled over her answer for a moment and almost had to ask if she was referring to her father or mother, but it dawned on him suddenly and he pressed his lips together in a tight line. The death of a child is a very serious thing. He never really knew the true extent of her feelings about Emily because she wouldn’t share them, but he knew she was mired in silent grief for some time. There had been a real lack of joy in her in the months that followed, one he thought had never really returned.

“It never occurred to me,” Mulder said. “To think that…”

“I didn’t think it would. Actually, it didn’t occur to me either until just now.”

“I don’t think I ever told you how sorry I was.”

“It isn’t you who should be sorry. And you were right, it was never meant to be.”

“I shouldn’t have-”

“No. You were right. It doesn’t mean I didn’t want her, wouldn’t have gladly taken her, quit the FBI, moved to a tiny town somewhere in the hopes that no one could get to her, but the circumstances were what they were. Even if there was a way to treat her, the price would have been too great, I think, and it would’ve just been buying a piece of time. I’ve been trying to accept that as fact. Some days I can, some days I can’t.”

“Grief doesn’t really follow a strict timeline.”

“Sometimes I’m not even sure what I’m grieving; if it’s for her or the idea of her. The loss of what I don’t have.”

“Maybe it’s both. Do you want…”

“A child? I’m not even sure. I know I’m angry that the choice was taken away from me, but that doesn’t mean I’m ready to explore my options or if I’ll ever be. On the other hand, I can hear it ticking.”

“Are we talking about the proverbial biological clock here?”

“Tick. Tick. Tick. Sometimes faintly, sometimes loudly, reminding me that I’m not getting any younger.”

“Well, if you ever do decide to explore those options, I’ll help you in whatever way I can.”

Scully tipped her head and gazed at him sideways. “I’ll remember that,” she said. “If I ever reach a conclusion.”

Part of him felt this conversation was an opening to come clean about the full truth of her missing ova, but he wasn’t going to do that to her if she hadn’t even decided she wanted a child. He didn’t want to hurt her unnecessarily further if the verdict was still out. It was a burden he’d held for such a long time and he wasn’t keen on making it hers as well, even if it was technically her burden. He would rather carry that cross for her and never let her know he was carrying it if he didn’t have to.

“So,” she said, sitting up taller and shaking off the melancholy that had settled momentarily on her shoulders. “We went out of order again kind of. Go ahead with the last one.”

“Okay, final question. Share a personal problem and ask your partner's advice on how he or she might handle it. Also, ask your partner to reflect back to you how you seem to be feeling about the problem you have chosen.”

“Well, I can’t seem to get my laundry done when I need it because my partner is always keeping me out nights.”

“Send it out to a service. That’s what I do.”

She smiled. “Just give me a minute, I’ll think of something.”

“Maybe you’re lucky enough to be problem-free. Laundry aside.”

“The only pressing issue I can really think of is how to tell my brother I’d rather not visit for the 4th of July. He’s been sort of pestering me to come out, but if I decide to take a vacation this summer, I’d rather do something relaxing.”

“Like going to Maine?”

“Not Maine.”

“It’s Stephen King territory, Scully, you should’ve known you’d find a possessed doll up there the minute you set foot in the state.”

“Does that mean I’d have better or worse chances of an x-file finding me on a tiny island somewhere in the Caribbean.”

“That probably depends on how close to the Bermuda Triangle you plan to be. But, a tropical island? Really?”

“Might be nice to lay in a hammock and read a book or two.”

“You mean highlight your latest edition of JAMA.”

“At least I’d be on a beach while I’m at it.”

“Blame it on me. Even if you didn’t, I’m sure Bill would do it for you, so just give him the satisfaction of being right as you let him down easy.”

“I’m not gonna blame you to spare his feelings. You don’t deserve that.”

“I guess you can go with the truth then. Just tell him you need a break. You’re using up your days off for some much needed alone time.”

“That’s probably all I can do, but I know he won’t understand.”

“Then that’s his problem.”

“And now I’m supposed to ask you how I feel about this dilemma?”

“Still on the fence, I’d say. You’re gonna want more time to mull it over and probably put it off a bit longer.”

“Correct.”

“Here’s my problem. I want to ask my partner if she’d entertain the idea of coming into the office tomorrow morning, not all day or anything, just for a little while. But, I know she has all that laundry to do that she could send out, and curling up in the titillating world of JAMA, and I certainly don’t want to take that away from her.”

Scully groaned.

“See, big problem,” he said.

“I need more information. Why do you want your partner to come in tomorrow? What could you possibly want to do in the office on a Saturday when we don’t have something taking us out of town?”

“I ordered some Roswell newspaper volumes from archives about a month ago and they finally came in.”

“Newspapers. From Roswell.”

“The 1940s. Wouldn’t it be fun to peruse old-timey articles about mysterious lights in the sky and government cover-ups?”

Scully groaned again.

“Any advice for this problem of mine?”

“Yes. Don’t ask.”

“I hear it’s going to rain tomorrow.”

“So.”

“So she won’t be missing anything by staying indoors. What if I offered to buy her lunch?”

“Not good enough.”

“Breakfast?”

“Not listening.”

“Snacks from the vending machine every hour?”

“Your problem is going to wear a hole in your pocket.”

“Is now a good time to reflect on how I’m feeling?”

“There’s an air of desperation about you. You’re still wondering how best to wear me down, and you know it’s only a matter of time before I say yes, but you’ll still be wondering if I’ll show up until I walk in tomorrow morning.”

“Does that mean my problem is solved?”

“It means you’ll have to wait to find out until tomorrow morning.”

“I guess that’s better than nothing.”

“There’s something else on this paper.” Scully furrowed her brow and pushed the paper towards Mulder while keeping her fingers on it. “Instructions.”

“You’ve reached the end of the questions. The final task is to stare silently into your partner’s eyes for four minutes. It’s important to finish with this step. Some people have described this step as thrilling and terrifying. Good luck.”

“You’ve got to me kidding me.”

“We don’t have to.”

“You know I’m not going to leave something half-assed.”

“I just thought it was fun questions.”

Scully sighed and then downed the rest of her watery Diet Coke. She dropped the glass down on the bar with more force than necessary and turned on the stool to face Mulder.

“Got a timer on your watch?” she asked.

“I do.”

“Set it.”

He did as she asked and then laid his arm down on the bar so she could see it. She grabbed his wrist and after a glance, let him go and rested her arm in front of his, glancing her fingers off of his as she pulled away.

“Ready?” he asked.

“Go.”

Mulder only glanced down to start the timer and then he met her gaze. It was awkward at first, with her looking so defiant and both unaccustomed to really looking that purposefully at each other when they weren’t debating a casefile. Her face finally softened a bit and she gave a small tilt of her head as though she was trying to read something off of him. He hoped she couldn’t read his thoughts in that moment, that was for sure.

Just before she tilted her head, her eyelids dropped in a half-blink and then opened again and he saw in her what he felt like he was on the verge of really seeing in his hallway two years ago, but had tamped down. He envisioned himself rising from his stool, kicking it out of the way, taking her face in his hands, pushing his fingers through her hair, and kissing her for all he was worth, once and for all. He felt his lips part in anticipation, licked them closed, and swallowed.

Suddenly, Scully’s eyes turned glassy and she looked away, pulling back from him with a slight slump, but he reached out and touched her arm, laying his hand down over hers and she blinked back up at him. She looked terrified, but he dipped his head a little and tried to tell her it was alright by widening his eyes just a little and nodding. He understood. This was not a game. He wanted her to know he was sincere and grateful that she did this with him. He cherished her answers. He cherished that she listened. Above all, he simply cherished all of her.

Four minutes could feel like a lifetime. By the time Mulder’s watch went off, Scully looked a little less afraid, but she quickly averted her eyes again at the sound of the beep and pulled her hand out from under his. He didn’t turn away though, and blindly silenced his watch. She stared at the rows of alcohol above the back of the bar until he cleared his throat and swiveled forward in his seat.

“So, we should do this more often,” he said.

“Yeah,” she answered, with a slight scoff. She turned her head towards him though, smiled softly, and then looked down at her lap. “I did have a nice time.”

“I’m glad. Let me get the check and we’ll get out of here.”

He helped her into her coat after he’d paid and then slung his own over his shoulder. Twilight had set in and the streets were quiet. They stopped under a street lamp in front of her apartment, near her car. She crossed her arms over her chest and looked down at her feet for a few moments.

“Thank you for dinner,” she said.

“Don’t forget, my offer for breakfast, snacks, and lunch still stands.”

“It’s possible I won’t turn it down. It’s also possible I will.”

“I know, you’re always trying to keep me guessing.”

“Keeps you on your toes, doesn’t it?”

“Always.”

Scully smiled and he realized he’d seen her smile more tonight than he had in years. It looked good on her. On impulse, he leaned down and brushed his lips against her cheek, nearly catching the corner of her smile. Her eyes followed his retreat and the slight upturn of her lips was still in place.

“What was that for?” she asked.

“Just because. I’ll see you tomorrow. Or Monday.”

“What if I were to want something from the deli on 13th and E?”

“Done.”

“I’ll add it to the things to consider.”

Mulder turned and took a few steps on his tip-toes towards his car. He heard Scully chuckle and he gave her one last glance over his shoulder. He made a promise to himself in that moment to surprise her with something fun, something she’d least expect. He didn’t know what it was yet, but he’d think of something.

The End

#i wrote this #xf fanfic #mulder #scully #msr #ust #friendship #The Unnatural #pre-ep #don't read the study first if you don't want spoilers

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echeronsink · 6 years ago

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Mothbones Preview (for mobile)

Mothbones is a modern fantasy YA story set in an alternate universe where every creature of myth, folklore, and legend are very, very real and hiding right under the noses of the rest of the world’s population. It is told from two perspectives: One man who must live with his past misdeeds forever, and another who is still haunted by the arson killing of 13 people. Their paths cross with Maux; a girl with budding prophetic abilities and a target on her back. For Phesec, it’s one last job before he can try to break away from his reputation. For Pepper, it’s a chance to prove himself.

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If you aren’t on mobile, please read the chapters here.

CHAPTER ONE

"I don't think fortune cookies work if you steal them."

Pepper looked down at the bedraggled girl seated in front of him, sliding into the booth and setting down the crinkly plastic bag unceremoniously. The corner of his mouth curled into a lazy smile. "Maybe. Could be they just plain don't work."

Maux gave him a tired, argumentative look, scrunching up her nose and chewing her lip in a way he'd learned meant she was considering starting a debate.

A shape moved in his peripheral, drawing his attention as Maux diverted her gaze to the checkered floor.

"Do you need another minute to decide?" the waitress asked, tapping the end of her pen against her notepad expectantly. She didn't seem to be aware that her bun had gotten loose and drooped over onto its side like a deflated balloon.

"Ah, just a milkshake, please. Chocolate." He straightened up and smiled politely. Then, noticing her attention lingering on the bag of cookies, added, "Kid's got a big game coming up tomorrow. Gotta rack up the luck a little."

Satisfied with his explanation, she nodded and promised to have the drink ready shortly before walking away.

"You're such a liar," Maux stated once she was out of earshot.

"'s not such a bad skill to have," he replied, popping open the bag and dumping out the contents. Plucking one from the pile, he tore that open as well. "Besides, she's probably relieved. I'd bet she's seen a whole lot worse than a bulk bag of fortune cookies, working in a twenty-four-hour Diner."

She scowled more, curling up against the back of the booth and tugging her thin sweater over her hands. "Why are we even here? You always just steal food."

"Because," he continued absently, cracking the cookie open and pulling out the little slip of paper. "It's been a long week, and you look like you need something good to eat. Or drink."

"I'm lactose intolerant."

"That didn't seem to stop you from eating an entire package of mini donuts the other day. Or anything else, really."

Appearing to be temporarily out of arguments, Maux only sat forward and grabbed a cookie from the pile. The waitress returned and placed the shake on the table before walking away again after he thanked her.

"What'd ya get?" he inquired as she cracked the shell and tugged the slip of paper free.

"Let me read." She looked over the printed letters at least four times before tentatively replying. "'Take the chance while you still have the choice.'"

"Foreboding," he deadpanned, cracking open another cookie and popping half into his mouth with a loud crunch. "And maybe a little late."

She furrowed her brow and smoothed the slip out over the table, pulling the shake closer and taking a sip as she played with the condensation.

"You should at least read them," she said after watching him add a fourth slip of paper to the pile of wrappers without so much as a glance.

Again, he cracked a wry smile. "There's nothing to 'em, kiddo. It's all just a bunch of superstitious fun."

"Monsters are supposed to be a bunch of superstitious fun, too. So is magic," she countered, slouching over the glass.

A frown tugged at his lips, his attention halting for a moment as he glanced over his shoulder before looking at her fully. "No, kid. Monsters and magic...those are myths."

"They're real. You saw them. I saw you use magic."

He sat back in his seat, abandoning his dinner. "You did."

Maux grit her teeth, rising to sit on one leg. "Then why are you calling them myths?"

"Myths," he exhaled, rubbing the back of his neck tiredly, "are real. You've seen as much. Gods, monsters, the whole lot of it." Selecting a slip of paper from the pile of trash, he held it up. "Superstitions are different, they're wives' tales for people like me, like saying going out in the rain without a coat will give you a cold. There's exceptions, sure, for some things involving the Fair Folk and a few others, but they're different."

A faint ribbon of smoke rose from the paper, turned greenish-orange by the Diner's lighting. A moment later the paper curled in on itself and turned to ash as a thin line of orange flame ate away at the edges.

"Stuff like this, though...It's all just people. Normal, unsuspecting people having a little fun with the idea of luck or fortune or whatever they want to call it."

She pursed her lips, holding the glass with both hands and tapping her short nails against it as she stared at the straw blankly.

"There's nothing to worry about," he added softly.

"There's all kinds of things to worry about," she replied, barely above a whisper. "There's monsters and crazy people and magic all over the place and now they're after me. Jesus Christ, I haven't been home in a week. I can't even call my parents and I might never see them again."

He slumped back, shaking his head. "Well...the magic and monsters aren’t really anything new. I can handle any of that fine."

Silence hung over the booth tensely for a moment before anything happened.

A small hiccup escaped her, followed by another. She brought a hand up over her face to hide the miserable smile spreading across her face. "Oh, great. My knight in shining armor."

He let out an exasperated sigh. "Glad I can put your mind at ease."

She nodded, unsuccessfully trying to hold back more hiccups as she stirred the milkshake. After dropping her fortune into the pile of wrappers, she looked back up at him with a tired, wavering smile. "You really need to work on your comforting skills."

He rolled his eyes. "We’ll focus on getting you swearing properly first."

CHAPTER TWO

Blue and red weren't quite opposites. Sure, they looked different enough, but the space between them had become perilously narrow in the blink of an eye. Now that he stared at the divide with sobered eyes, he recognized the preface in the color blue.

No matter how hard he tried, blue would lead to red so long as he stood within it.

"You get quieter and quieter with old age." The familiar voice brought Phesec’s mouth into a tight line.

"Oraxes. Always a pleasure to see you." He turned to face the woman standing in the neon blue light with him.

"Have you grown philosophical already?” she inquired, her lips tugging up into a cruel smirk. “What mysteries does someone who's seen the flip side of the coin ponder?"

A heavy sigh escaped him. “If you’re so determined to annoy me, could you at least try to be original about it?”

The golden lattice of leaves above her left ear glinted with the tilt of her shaved head. “Right. How inconsiderate of me. You’re probably tired of hearing the same jokes after so many decades. So, which ones do you hate the most: The undead jokes, or the criminal ones we all have to hear?”

“Do you want something from me, or does Pegasus just pay you to sit around?”

“Please. You’re the last person I’d need anything from,” she scoffed, waving a hand.

“I’d almost think you’ve been missing me.” He pushed a loose strand of long hair out of his face, tugging at the sleeves of his jacket and shivering. He glanced up to the glaring exit sign. “What’s got him worried? He hasn’t moved shop in a long time.”

“Pegasus seems to be more interested in security lately. Not that you’d know, always running off to hole up somewhere while the rest of us work.”

“He doesn’t seem interested in keeping me close. I come to get the job, I do it, I get paid and then I go home…Still. I wouldn’t expect him to move shop to somewhere so…” He looked around the room, observing the grimy cement walls plastered in outdated flyers and the decomposing litter jammed into every crack and corner. The scent of cigarettes and booze hung heavily in the air, along with a few other less recognizable things. “Disgusting.”

She shrugged. “Don’t know. He’s probably just tired of the same old places. Or maybe he needed it for an expansion.”

“Of course.” He nodded, leaning against the steel door frame. “Lapdogs don’t usually ask a lot of questions.”

Her eyes narrowed as she took a step closer, parting her lips to speak through grit teeth. “I’m not-”

“Castillo,” a deep, smooth voice slipped from beyond the doorway. “Please, come in.”

Glancing from the red corridor back to Oraxes, who had seemingly been frozen in place by the voice, he flashed the slightest hint of a smile before turning and stepping over the threshold, trading out the neon blue light of the exit sign for a vivid shade of red.

His stomach rose further as he neared the end of the hall, and then again as he realized the lack of a door. By the time he stepped into the polished office his heart was already beginning to beat against his ribs with renewed life.

“Castillo,” the voice repeated, this time more tied down to the man sitting behind the ornate wooden desk in the center of the room. “It’s good to see that time still hasn’t caught up to you.”

“Please, don’t bother with the formalities,” he replied, crossing the space and taking a seat in one of the plush velvet chairs in front of him. He immediately scooted forward to sit on the edge, perhaps out of worry that the furniture might swallow him if he got too comfortable. “We’re still on a first name basis, aren’t we?”

Pegasus smiled, the wrinkly lines around his current form’s eyes deepening. His lips moved again, though his voice seemed to come from the air around him rather than his mouth, as usual. “Of course. Though I must say, your absences have been worrying me lately.”

“I’m sure you don’t have anything to be concerned about. You have plenty of reliable people working for you,” he reasoned cautiously, glancing at the backs of the dusty metal picture frames on the far ends of the desk.

“Plenty of people, yes, but not very many reliable ones. Youth doesn’t often breed maturity or trustworthiness.” He leaned forward in his seat, resting his elbows on the dark surface and clasping his hands together as he peered over the wire rim of his glasses. “It would be wise to hold onto the old friends I have left.”

He held his breath, waiting out the silence for a few seconds before forcing a smile. “Well, if I’ve started acting my age, I think we’re going to run into some problems. I may start reminiscing whenever the wind blows.”

Pegasus laughed, sounding far less human with each note until he broke into a fit of coughing.

Phesec winced at the sickly rattling sound of the man’s breaths, a familiar bitterness phantoming its way onto his tongue.

He pulled a tissue from his pocket as the fit ended, wiping his mouth and grumbling irritably. “I’ll never understand how bad organs manage to find their way out of a photograph.”

“An interesting question,” he agreed weakly, watching the tissue fall into the trash before looking back up to Pegasus’s face.

After adjusting the collar of his suit, he leaned against the desk once again. “All of that aside, I trust you know why I asked you here?”

“A job,” he said quickly, relieved to be asked a question with a simple answer. One that he knew.

“Yes.” He nodded, glancing up at the doorway. “Unfortunately I must ask a favor of you.”

Polite smile fading, he waited in silence.

“You have voiced your wishes to abstain from these kinds of jobs before, however…-”

“Sir,” he interrupted sharply, earning a raised hand in a bid for silence.

“However,” he repeated. “It is important that I can rely on you for this. There is no one else that I feel could be trusted with such an important task.”

“We’ve been over this, please. No kids.”

“I won’t ask the impossible of you, Phesec, and I do not take this lightly. You are a valuable friend to me.” He paused, layering an icy edge over his words. “If you would hear me out, I believe that you would not be as opposed to the idea of making an exception for me, just this once.”

He turned his gaze to the carpet, nodding tensely after a moment.

“I would not ask you to bring harm to a child. Instead, I’d like you to find one for me and bring her into our care.”

“Kidnapping.”

A harsh frown carved itself into Pegasus’s dark skin, deep channels springing up on his forehead. “She is already far from home. This is for her own protection, I assure you.”

“She should be taken back, then.”

He shook his head grimly, rising from his chair. “Nothing would be able to protect her from the dangers she faces now, even if she were to feign ignorance about mythos.”

He stared as Pegasus strode across the room, twisting a knob on the wall. The frilled lights tucked up against the high ceiling dimmed.

“There are places for young mythos, sir. Places founded to raise and prepare them for their own survival and independence.”

He turned to face him, one hand on the deep bronze railing of the spiral staircase behind him. “It doesn’t take much attention to notice your drifting, Phesec. You are absent more often than not, and people are beginning to talk. You are an old and trusted friend. One that I would not like to see turned to ash on the part of your own defiance.”

His throat felt constricted as he swallowed, letting his gaze drop to his feet. “I can’t take the job, Pegasus.”

He was met with stony silence, followed by the sharp tap of rings on metal that made him flinch.

“Very well. Leave me.”

His legs shook as he stood, stepping back towards the doorway. An apology clung stubbornly to his tongue, refusing to be spoken. He managed a stiff nod before turning into the red corridor.

The slight vacuum of air tugged at his clothing as the doorway vanished behind him. He didn’t even spare Oraxes a glance as he stepped out into the blue again.

“What the hell happened to you? You look like you just ran into a Bureau officer.”

He failed to respond, looking to the sign again. Somehow, it looked a little more teal.

#writeblr #writers on tumblr #new writers on tumblr #writing #Mothbones #my stuff #projects

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