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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 4 years ago

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Northern Exposure | Something in the Air

❄ Part 1 of the mini-series ❄

Warnings: non-consent sex and rape (series); violence, creepiness on part of our boys, predatory behaviour, Bucky’s an asshole, they’re all too lonely and too desperate, mistaken identity.

This is dark! fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Pairings: Sam Wilson x Reader, Steve Rogers x Reader, Bucky Barnes x Reader, A Bad Time x Reader

Series Synopsis: You’re a nature photographer stationed up north but the arctic isolation comes to an unexpected and unpleasant end.

Note: I started this ages ago and finally got the energy to finish, it’s four parts and provided my life doesn’t continue to fuck around I should have em all up in the next days. Also as always, cracking away at all the other fics I’ve hooked you into.

Thanks to everyone for their patience and feedback. :)

I really hope you enjoy. 💋

<3 Let me know what you think with a like or reblog or reply or an ask! Love ya!

The days were short and the nights long. So far north, time seemed not to exist as you chased the fleeting sun with your lens. Your existence was only demarcated by the fortnightly delivery of supplies left at your door as you were often out pursuing an elusive snow fox or wakeful owl. The world seemed small up here and you felt like the only person left alive.

Perched up on a branch precariously, you teetered as you focused your camera at its end. It was the perfect composition, snow blurred in the background as you focus on the scratching along the bark, the remnants of some owl or smaller critter. An abstract in your series, certainly, but interesting nonetheless. Besides, your editor would be happy enough with the close up you’d captured of a reindeer, its antlers the focal point of the shot.

Content, you climbed down, barely keeping yourself from slipping entirely down the trunk to a crash landing. Back on the ground, your boots sank into the snow, halfway up your calf, and you capped the lens of your camera. You tucked it under your parka and glanced around at the sparse grey trees.

Your eyes flew up as you heard a snap in branches not far from those you stood beneath. You held your breath and listened. It might be another opportunity. The early flight of an owl. You followed the sound, your steps muffled by the snowy carpet below. But that natural silence of the arctic returned and you ended up searching for air. Not a noise.

You sighed and turned back to look at the horizon. It was growing dark and you were best to return to your little cabin before long. It would be a moonless night and without the silver guardian above, it would make a nocturnal trek even harder. As you took a step, it seemed to echo and you stopped again. Your ears perked up and you shifted your hat to hear a bit better.

There was nothing. You frowned and turned. Only the snow and the trees against the greying sky. You shrugged off your unusual paranoia and carried on. You took the treacherous path back to your remote habitat. It was just you and your cameras; you and the north. An assignment you’d loathed at first but come to cherish. Isolation had a keen way of introducing one’s self to them.

You stepped up onto the small porch, the aluminum roofing and the tarnished and dented siding made it seem like little more than a lost shed. There was a single room inside, a small bed with a woven blanket, a wooden counter with an old basin and a stove top run on gas. The out house was further back, hard to find in a storm, but as long as you counted your steps, you rarely got lost.

You pushed through and turned the wooden latch that held the door shut. You untied your boots on the salt-stained rubber mat and left them there as you hung your damp, cold parka and shed your thick snow pants. You took off your hat and gloves and left them on the small shelf beneath the hook.

You took out a can of chili and dumped it in the small scratched pan. You lit the burner and sat on the single chair built of logs as you waited for it to warm. The wind swept up outside the shuttered windows and you shivered. You went to the small woodstove and twisted the iron handle of the door. You carefully built a fire as the smell of your dinner filled the cabin.

You left the door of the stove open to heat up the place and turned off the burner. You moved the pot onto the counter and took a bowl from the cupboard. A distant clatter sounded from outside. You frowned and kept yourself from grabbing the pot. You sighed as the noise repeated.

Several times before the wind had torn open the outhouse door and slammed it back and forth throughout the night. One time, it had been a curious bear. You hoped for the former as you shoved your feet into your boots and haphazardly pulled on your jacket. In and out. You’d secure the door and be back for your dinner before it got cold.

Outside, the sky had almost darkened entirely. You clicked on the flashlight you kept by the door and shut it behind you. You stomped down into the snow and squinted at the circle of light as you rounded the edge of the house. You neared the outhouse and sighed as you found it locked up tight. It couldn’t have been your imagination; you’d heard something.

You huffed and turned back. You swept the flashlight back and forth as you searched for a creature sneaking around or whatever item the wind had tried to carry away. There was nothing. You followed your footprints back to the house and climbed up the steps.

The door was open and you noticed the much larger puddled footprint on the porch too late. The fire had been snuffed and the single lantern was dead. Your wrist was grabbed as you tried to angle the flashlight around the room and you were drawn inside and pinned against the door.

A cold barrel pressed to your chin and your eyes widened. Your arm was twisted up until the flashlight blinded you and lit the unfamiliar face before you. You blinked and shook your head helplessly.

“Quite the hiding spot,�� The deep voice added to the icy nip of the air.

“What--”

“Don’t try to act dumb. It might’ve worked with Wilson but not me.” He snarled and you released the flashlight as you tried to wriggle free. “Stop!”

The light fell to the floor and bounced as he wrenched your arm up and pushed the gun harder under your chin.

“I have orders to take you alive… if I can,” he sneered, “doesn’t mean I will.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you grunted as he had you on tip toes against the wall, the flash light rolled on the floor and sent shadows around the room, “I’m not… I’m not whoever you think I am.”

“Save it, Ursa,” he hissed and pulled you away from the wall, gun still taut to your skin, “0r should I say Astur.”

“No, no, it’s not me,” you pleaded, confused as he turned you away from him and angled you towards the bed, the muzzle now pressed to the back of your head. “I’m just a photographer. You’ll see. Look through my stuff. It’s just cameras and photos. It’s--”

“Shut up,” he pushed on the back of your knees with his, “on your stomach.”

You got down, barely able to see and unwilling to resist with a bullet waiting behind you. He pushed you into the mattress until you were still. He pulled back the gun and planted his knee on your back as he held you down. He holstered his firearm then pulled your arm back behind you and then the other. He used a zip tie to secure your hands there before he did the same to your ankles.

He carefully stepped back and you turned your head to watch his shadow. He didn’t bother with the flashlight as he closed the door. Then he turned and kicked the light so it cracked and the bulb died. He sat in the chair, it groaned dangerously under him.

You could see little of him as all light was gone but for the sudden glow of a screen before him. You only saw the glint of his blue eyes before he put it against his cheek. You turned onto your side and he growled.

“Don’t even think of moving,” he warned. “Hey,” he spoke into the speaker. “I just sent the coordinates. Target secured.” He listened, “by morning?”

He pulled the phone away and dimmed the screen. You could only hear the wind as he sat there and you sensed his unwavering gaze in the dark. With your jacket undone and your boots untied, you felt the draft that blew through the cabin walls. You shivered and he let out a thick breath. A snarl almost.

“I really don’t know what’s going on,” you said.

“Shut up,” he snapped.

“I mean it. You have to look. Look around, you’ll see,” you pleaded.

He snorted and didn’t move. You rolled your eyes helplessly and another chill ran through you.

“Please--”

“I already looked. When you were out climbing trees,” he intoned. “I saw the photos. Very thorough reconnaissance.”

“What? Pictures of birds and snowflakes?” You uttered.

“You’re good. That whole innocent ploy is convincing,” you heard his boot drag over the wooden floor, “almost.”

You deflated, your wrists chafed and your teeth chattered.

“You gonna wait all night… for whoever that was?”

“I’m tired of telling you to shut up.”

“You leave me like this, I’ll freeze to death. You too.”

“I won’t,” he said, “you might.”

“You said you had orders.”

“Circumstantial,” he countered.

You exhaled deeply and bent your legs as you tried to curl into yourself. He tutted and stood, the floor creaked. The stove door whined and you heard the iron poker against the kindling. He mumbled as he relit the fire and stirred it until the biggest log caught. He rose and set aside the poker and resumed his seat.

The fire’s amber haze limned his figure in the dark. His broad shoulders were wider than the back of the chair, his long hair poked out from beneath a wool cap, and his hand formed a tight fist on the arm. He leaned his head back and sniffed.

“There,” he said sharply, “nice and cozy.”

You wiggled on the bed, trying to get comfortable. You pulled on your wrists and ankles and only caused your hands and feet to throb. You grunted and relented, resigning yourself to lay listless atop the thin mattress.

“You’re wasting your time--”

“I’m about to shove your sock in your mouth so I suggest you shut the fuck up,” he barked.

You gulped and closed your eyes in surrender. Well, maybe his friends would realise his mistake. Or maybe they’d just add to your predicament.

❄

You didn’t really sleep, you languished. The man didn’t either. You could tell. He just watched. Frighteningly patient as the night critters made a ruckus outside. He barely even moved as you fidgeted, your shoulders sore and your legs cramping.

Then there was a sudden change that even you felt. A heavy pair of boots climbed up onto the porch and the handle jiggled, the door stopped by the wooden latch. The man rose and crossed to the door. You heard the subtle brush of fabric and metal as he pulled out his gun. He pulled open the door slowly, at the ready, the slightly lesser dark seeping in.

“Sooner than I thought,” the man greeted his comrade. Your heart froze as another set of footfalls followed. A third man entered behind the second.

“Jesus, why are you sitting here in the dark?” The third man asked, “there a light or something?”

“She’s on the bed.” The first man grumbled. “Only a rifle hidden under there. I already disarmed it.”

The sudden electric glow of the lantern bloomed to life. Your eyes slowly adjusted as you stared at the three men. There were all big, all broad-shouldered, all stood like soldiers as they communed around the only chair. The third, the one who’d clicked the lantern on, neared you.

“She’s putting on a front, but--” the first man began and the third one raised his hand to silence him as he knelt by the bed.

He had a kind face, his brown eyes were warm, and the finely trimmed goatee lent him a sense of lightheartedness. His expression however was hard and turned to confusion then disappointment as he held the lantern close and grabbed your chin, turning your head back and forth.

“Not her,” he released you and stood, “fucking Christ, Bucky. It’s not fucking her.”

The second man snorted, “really?”

“It’s gotta be--” the first insisted, “the gun--”

“For hunting,” you said dully, “not that I do much of that. I use it to scare away the wolves.”

“Shut up.” He snarled and crossed his arms as he turned his back to you, “you’re sure?”

“I wouldn’t forget the woman who nearly slit my throat. Twice.” The other said, “and really? A single rifle? You think that’s all she’d have?”

“She has photos too. The bunker, due north. She’s got dozens.” The first insisted.

“Bunker?” You whispered.

“I’m not going to tell you to shut it again,” the man turned as he raised a hand and the blond, the one who hadn’t said much at all, caught his wrist.

“Hey,” the other man warned, “she’s innocent. She probably has no idea what she was taking pictures of.”

“Yeah, but now she knows our faces. No doubt recognizes you, pretty boy,”tThe third offered, “and idiot here assaulted her and tied her up.”

“All the way up here? Who’s she gonna tell?” The blonde returned.

“She has a radio,” The first, Bucky offered. “It’d be enough to give us away.”

“They’d believe her? If she’s been up here long, they might not.” The blonde glanced over the others shoulder, “you apologize and we can--”

“You really wanna leave another loose end?” Bucky challenged as he blocked his gaze.

“You should’ve confirmed before you jumped,” the third huffed.

“If we’re not gonna leave her, what do we do?” The blonde asked.

They all went silent. They looked at each other and then you. Bucky raised his gun, still in hand, and the blond caught him again. He shook his head and tisked.

“Are you crazy?” He pushed his hand down, “We’re not killing her. She didn’t do anything.”

“I agree, she shouldn't die because you’re stupid,” the other chuckled.

“Well, Einstein,” Bucky snipped, “what do you suggest?”

The third man’s brows raised slowly and he tilted his head. He glanced at you again then back to his comrades. He shrugged and a grin spread across his face.

“The bunker. It’s empty. Safe.” He said quietly, “How much of a fight did she put up?”

“Enough of one,” Bucky muttered.

“She’s… not bad. She’s all alone up here. Even if someone noticed she went radio silent, it’d have to take a while,” he explained.

“What are you saying?” The blonde frowned.

“If she has the photos, if she knows where the bunker is and this moron’s blurted out some intel, I just know it,” he continued, “we can’t let her go. He’s at least right about that. So… we don’t wanna kill her, we keep her.”

“Keep her? For what?” Bucky scoffed.

The man was silent and winked at them. The blonde peeked over at you and Bucky dropped his head as he gripped his hip.

“Come on, you guys,” he threw up his hand as the blonde shifted on his feet. “It’s fucking cold up here and it’s been awful lonely everywhere else. We’re running around with no finish line in sight and… well, I’m about to stab one of you and I’ve seen the way you,” he pointed at Bucky, “look at me. I don’t trust that.”

“You can’t mean--” the blonde muttered.

“She’s better off dead,” Bucky insisted.

“Just because you’re a monk, doesn’t mean the rest of us need to be.”

“Hmm,” the blonde tapped his toe.

“You’re not really considering this?” Bucky sneered.

“Well… why not?” He rasped, “She’s… alone and… not too bad on the eyes.”

“And I have ears!” You sat up awkwardly, “You want me to keep my mouth shut. Done. I’m up here trying to catch a few birds on a roll. I’m not here to get mixed up in whatever it is you three--” You blinked as the lantern shone in the blond’s face as the three men turned to you, “shit.”

Captain America’s eyes sparked with recognition as your head did the same. He knew you knew who he was; likely he saw that look every other day. There was no hiding it.

“I told you,” the third man chided, “that mug is hard to forget.”

“No, no, I don’t-- I won’t tell a soul. I swear. Please just whatever you’re thinking, don’t. I’m some dumb photographer they sent up here to document the snow. You really think anyone cares that much--”

“Not so much about you but those photos are pretty interesting,” Bucky neared and shoved you down and you barely kept from hitting your head on the wall, “don’t tell me you didn’t know what you were doing.”

“People go missing up here all the time. That’s why no one’s here,” the brown-eyed man said, “she’ll just be another and we’ll have a nice companion to keep us from killing each other.”

“No,” Bucky turned, “it’s my mistake. I’ll take care of it.”

“Put the gun away, Buck,” Steve Rogers ordered, “it’s not right. We can’t kill her. Even if she isn’t entirely innocent, even if you’re right about those photos. She’s better to us alive.”

“Don’t tell me you’re going along with this--”

“I’m the captain,” Steve insisted. “I’ve made up my mind and I’m giving you an order. Sam’s right. She’s more use alive. If she has information, we’ll get it out of her. And if she doesn’t well, we can find something else to do with her.”

Bucky swore and pushed his gun into his holster. He stepped away from you and shouldered past the one called Sam.

“Yes, captain,” he said dryly.

“Sergeant,” Steve retorted and nodded to Sam, “get her up. We should leave before the sun rises.”

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lostcybertronian · 5 years ago

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DocThor “[Name]! Open the door!” ? :)

I wrote this last night at like 9PM

Tags: @authorsathenaeum @tiny-yan-an @darkstache-iplier @redraspberrycats @cookieface678 @bing-iplier @storm337 @sketchy-scribs-n-doods @pixelenchanter @itsjustkyss @darkiplurrr @demon-dark-666 @moonysmayhem @xpouii @sororia04s

Prompt: “[Name]! Open the door!”

Breath coming in hard, labored gasps, Edward stumbled over clumps of leaves and twigs, water-logged jacket clinging to his quaking form. In his hands he clutched his phone, its cracked screen proving him only the faintest of lights to see by. Only the slightest of hopes for rescue.

It would have to do when he was being hunted. When somewhere behind him came the thunderous footsteps of something big, something unbothered by the noise it made in its pursuit of him; it didn’t need to be quiet. Not when it was so sure of its prey.

“Author!” Edward nearly wept when he spotted the cabin in the near-distance, its ramshackle structure for once a welcome sight, its dusty glow a balm to his terror. “Author! Help me!”

He pumped his arms harder in desperate hope it would help him run faster, his legs and lungs burning like the fire he wished he had to burn this forest down.

Please! He prayed to the god he didn’t believe in, dodging wet branches that threatened to smack him in the face as he risked a glance at his phone in hopes that the Author had texted him back. Had even seen the text he’d sent in reply to the drunk-looking plea he’d received an hour previous: Come t p/ ther cabin. Need tw talk.

He hadn’t.

“Author!” Edward broke the treeline, tearing across the muddy clearing toward the cabin, bounding up the sagging steps and across the creaking porch, all but slamming his body into the door. “Author!” He cried. “Author! Open the door!”

His pursuer emerged from the woods; he froze, breath catching in his throat. Every hair on the back of his neck stood on end as he slowly turned to face whatever monster roamed the Author’s woods.

“Author?” The name sounded pathetically small on his lips now, weak and wavering, as if all the hope had drained from him.

Which, as he stared down the figure who came through the knee-high grass, battered aluminum bat rain-shined and ready, he realized it had.

The Author’s eyes glittered under the cabin’s dull lighting as he strode up the sagging steps and crossed the creaking porch, seeming to move in slow motion, like in a dream.

“What are you doing? Author!” Edward could only yelp as one of the Author’s hands shot out, slamming into his chest and forcing him against the door, the back of his head connecting with the rotting wood with a sick crack; his adrenaline gone, he was left with shaking limbs and aching fear and nothing else, not even the strength to fight back. “Why are you doing this?”

His former lover sneered at him. There was no love or lust in his eyes now. “Didn’t I say you’d regret the day you left me?” He asked, breath smelling of petrichor and blood, and not at all of booze. “Didn’t I say you’d pay the price?”

“Author. Author please-”

The Author forced him further into the door, reducing Edward’s plea to a mumbled mess. “Save it for when you’re mine again.”

Whatever Edward would say next was lost to the rain as the Author reached around him, shoving the door open, then him into the cabin.

#docthor #dr edward iplier #the author #markiplier egos #writersofmark #fanfiction #lostandwandering #my writing #lost writing tag #writing prompts #horror #angst #asks #lovely anon

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arts-n-anarchy · 5 years ago

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The Worst Night Ever (Chapter 2)

Pairing: Queerplatonic Errorink

Warnings: Some internal conflict

Word count: 1222

A/N: I FINALLY BEAT MY WRITER’S BLOCK! WOO-HOO! NOW TAKE MY TRASH (this is actually trash, for real)! {Chapter 1}

Error was watching the AUs in the anti-void, as he always did before he went on a destroying spree.

He would survey each AU, determining whether it was useful or not. If it was a waste, he would make a note to destroy it when he had the time (which he had today). Since Ink was busy, Error could sneak out without getting caught. Then he could really have his fun.

So far, this one was nothing good. He jotted it down in his notebook and snapped his fingers. The screen switched to the next AU, showing Underswap Sans hugging his brother. Error scoffed.

Meanwhile, several clangs and crashes sounded from afar. One time Error swore he heard a cat yowling. He didn’t know what the heck Ink was doing, but he thought it would be better not to find out.

He sighed and continued working, trying to block out the noise behind him. But in a moment's time he couldn’t even hear his own thoughts over drilling sounds. Error snapped and stood up. He left the AU unmonitored as he stomped away to confront Ink.

Ink had finished his grand creation and was sitting next to his brush. He patted it, giggling about what Error's reaction might be. He smirked when Error came to him less than a minute later.

“What are you-“ Error started to shout, but then his voice lowered to a whisper.

Behind Ink stood a brown three-story house that had not been there before. It had aluminum sidings, a gable roof, and a front porch. Smoke was flowing out of the chimney and roses were blooming in the garden.

Error dropped his jaw, conflicted on whether to scream or to gasp. He couldn’t deny it was nice, and Ink had spared him most of the work. The hardest part would be moving in, especially because he was used to living in a disorganized wasteland.

“I—wh—how?!?!” He stammered as Ink’s smirk stretched even wider. “I was bored.”

Ink grabbed his brush and got up. “Whew! All that hard work made me hungry. Come inside! I started putting some snacks in the kitchen.”

Ink bounded towards the house, beckoning for Error to follow him. Error hesitated, still not sure what had just happened. Still, something in his head was pushing him to go inside.

He became curious about whether he should keep it or tear it down. If he didn’t like it, then why should it take up space?

He was led through the front door and into the living room. It didn’t have any furniture in it yet, but the walls rose 20 feet high and the wooden floor was neatly polished. The ceiling was perfect for hanging strings overhead, like he did in the anti-void. The room was also fairly big, so he would have a space for his dolls to live in.

The next room was the dining room, with a large limestone table and a chandelier above it. There were seven chairs on each side, and two on each end. Near the doorway was a shelf with assorted glasses. Error couldn't help but mumble to himself about how white stupid it looked.

The third room was a TV room, with a real TV at the end of the room and a bean bag. The TV rested on a low shelf, and under it was a cable and a DVR. With the DVR, Error would never have to throw a fit about missing Undernovela again.

The last room on the first floor was the kitchen. There was a stove on top of an oven at the side of the room. On both sides of the room was a long, slender countertop. Above the stove was a microwave, along with some cabinets. Error opened the cabinet farthest to the right to see a box of Froot Loops and Thin Mints.

“There’s Cheez-its and Doritos in the other ones, if you want them.” Ink said. Ink paused, and then his eyes changed to exclamation points. “Oh! By the way…” He walked over to Error and whispered, “I got you your favorite. It’s in the next cabinet.”

He opened the cabinet next to the first one. Inside was a box of macaroni and cheese. Error squinted at it, then cracked a smile. Ink led Error upstairs. There were two bedrooms next to each other, and they each had full-sized beds with a dresser. Each also had a desk for so-called "organization purposes."

Last but not least, there were two bathrooms at the end of the hallway, complete with a shower and bathtub. They had large cabinets for storing toiletries and came with towels and a rug.

At the end of the tour, Ink asked eagerly, “So, do you like it?” Error stood there in silence, at a loss for words. “Actually…” he mumbled, avoiding Ink entirely. “…I think I’m hungry too.”

Error made his way down the stairs and disappeared into the kitchen. Ink smiled subtly and glanced at the floor below. He noticed that he had left the front door open, giving a glimpse of the empty world.

Error needed a home, Ink thought. Sure, he had his own AU, but he never thought of it as a home.

Would this make him happier?

He moved like a robot down the stairs while he was lost in thought. He asked himself questions that had never even crossed his mind before.

Why am I doing this? And why do I care about him so much? I never worry about other people like I do with Error.

He got back to his senses the moment he stepped into the kitchen.

The first thing he saw was Error eating a box of macaroni and cheese near the countertop. He didn’t even notice Ink coming in with the huge spoonfuls he was shoving into his mouth.

Ink reached into a cabinet and took out a bag of Doritos. They were Cool Ranch, as Ink insisted they were the only good flavor. So there he was, standing in a house he made, with a snack he brought into said house, putting fistfuls of it into his mouth.

Ink and Error stood in silence while inhaling their food. For several minutes, they weren't on edge by the presence of the other. And it was glorious.

Ink was going through the notes on his scarf, as he always did when he had nothing to do. In a laid-back time like this, he thought it was best to catch up on current events.

Error was the first one to move, walking towards the doorway before he had even finished eating. At that moment, something popped into Ink's head, pleading for an answer.

“Wait!” Ink yelled. Error whipped his head around.

“Um, didn’t you say you were gonna use me as a reference for new doll?" Ink raised an eyebrow. "Because I saw you were making Underswap Sans instead. Also, I saw your old doll of me strung up on the ceiling with the rest of them. What's up with that?"

Oh. Shit.

“Um…” Error wiped his forehead, staring down at the ground. He fumbled with his fingers until he dropped his spoon with a CLANG!

Welp, now was the time to kiss his evening plans goodbye.

#the worst night ever #undertale #undertale fanfic #undertale fic #undertale fanfiction #undertale au fanfiction #undertale au fic #undertale aus #au sanses #utmv #error sans #ink sans #queerplatonic errorink #queerplatonic errorink fanfic #queerplatonic errorink fic #queerplatonic errorink fanfiction

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lovelyfictional-imagines · 6 years ago

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Learn You Again (The Thirteenth Doctor x Reader)

Hi guys! I’m terribly, terribly sorry for being gone so long. You’ve all been so understanding with me. I appreciate you more than I could ever express.

I originally intended to write this for Twelve as a sort of birthday present to myself(The 25th is my 19th birthday), but I’m a little into Jodie Whittaker. Like, oh my god she’s absolutely gorgeous and I love that little half smile she does. I based height differences off of myself, I’m about 5′4 and she is 5′6, not much taller, but I’d still have to lean up just a bit to kiss her. Not that I’ve imagined that or anything.

This probably isn’t even a somewhat accurate depiction of her, but I tried.

ANYWHO.

This is a little present for me and anyone else who may feel this way.

I hope you enjoy. I also hope this is a good way to ease back into writing again.

Until next fic,

- Ashley

Word Count: 1, 348

What I listened to while writing: The Trapeze Swinger - Iron & Wine

Gentle tinkling like laughter floated on the dry, cool breeze. On the weathered porch, a young woman loosely clung to a tattered blanket around her shoulders, swaying like the tall brown grass in the yard. Above, the stars reared their shy heads behind wispy clouds, and the moon hid still. She breathed deeply, steadily, rhythmically.

It had been a month now she’d been alone. Dropped off in the house of her dreams, with all the time in the world at her disposal. In that time, she’d completely scrubbed every inch, from the corners of the attic to the soot stained fireplace. She’d come to learn mostly where the worn floorboards creak, which toilet threw fits, and that some days the oven simply refused to roar to life.

When she wasn’t working on her abode, she would sketch. Or read until her mind became distracted, and she’d begin another book. On sunny days she’d walk down the worn trail to a little pond she’d discovered while exploring, dip her toes into the freezing water, then run back with childlike glee. Other times she’d pack a small lunch and lay in the dead grass, eyes to the sky for hours.

At first she’d been grateful for the reprieve, almost glad to have time to herself. But after a few days of curling beneath layers of quilts and comforters, she’d realized just how lonely sleeping alone truly was. When she’d been so accustomed to curling into her owlish old man, of intertwining her bare legs and sock-covered toes into his, that waking up to the sun’s distant presence peeking into her window had begun to disappoint her. Once she’d beg the Doctor to bring them back to the exact moments before dawn so they could sit in awed silence, now she almost resented the sun because he wasn’t there to watch it with her.

Something had felt strange, of late, when her preoccupied thoughts would halt to think of the Doctor. He’d changed in his absence, somehow. Deep in her chest, she could tell, after much consideration. The question struck her in the dead of night, when she’d been lying awake in front of the fire: what if he wouldn’t be the same Doctor he left as?

For days she sat on the edge, attempting to reign in her thoughts from surrendering to worry, to fear, to her almost crippling anxiety.

That night she found her best pencils, her sturdiest paper, and drew different facial features until the sun made its grand entrance, coming to laugh at her. Page after page, eyes and lips and noses were everywhere in every shape she could recall.

Graphite smeared across her knuckles and fingers, on her cheek and forearm she’d pressed into her drawings when sleep found her at last. Around noon she woke, set the kettle on and went out to chop wood. After striking up another fire, having a few cups of tea that warmed all the way to her bones, she made her way into the attic. Rummaging through boxes of memories belonging to someone else, someone she’d never know, she found small pots of paint and carefully tended brushes.

“May I take these?” She whispered, voice hoarse from disuse.

And in that moment, a gentle breeze fluttered through her hair, and she took this as a sign of approval.

With that she clambered back down the stairs, cradling the supplies with almost divine reverence. Shutting the chipped door to her room, she set them down onto her unmade bed, and began tossing blankets onto the floor. Using her feet, she pushed them back into the extended nook of the bedroom. Time had seemed to slow, and every movement she made felt heavy, lethargic almost.

Instead of stopping, (Y/N) reached into her nightstand and withdrew a few thick, unscented candles. Her fingers fumbled for a moment as she attempted to strike match after match. On her fourth try, she managed to light one, breathing life into the candles and setting them on the rough windowsill.

Returning to her original train of thought, she retrieved her sketchbook and the paints.

The first stroke of paint on the page almost took her breath away. Vivid, evocative color spread smoothly beneath the bristles. Tears sprung to her dark (E/C) eyes, and suddenly her chest clenched beneath the sweatshirt she’d thrown on. Leaning back against the wall, she allowed herself to breathe, and her sorrow slipped down her cheeks, along her jaw, dripping into her shirt.

And instead of wiping them, she continued painting. Instinctively her fingers moved, and she gave into the melancholic passion she’d repressed for weeks now.

Suddenly (Y/N) jolted in her sleep and woke immediately. Outside the chimes sung, before stopping, and then continued. The oxygen in her lungs suddenly left her, and before her mind could process anything beyond her consciousness, she’d sprung to her feet. Quickly down through the hall and the stairs, discarding the house’s groaning. Skidding into the living room, she searched the landscape outside of the window, and almost screamed.

Yanking her blanket from the back of the rocking chair, she pried the backdoor and screen open. Near the pond, down the hill, the TARDIS stood in all her glory, glowing beneath the light of the moon. The dull ache of tears pressed into the backs of her eyes, her heart hammered until it sounded like a jet taking off, and her fingers clutched at a hole in the fabric until she was sure she’d made new ones. Gingerly she stepped out onto the rickety porch, turning to the aluminum chimes she’d hung on her first night alone.

(Y/N) looked up, expecting her lanky, aged Doctor with wild silver curls and attack eyebrows. Instead she was met with brilliantly viridescent eyes, feminine and glistening with familiarity as they gazed at her. Short, blonde hair framed a carefully sculpted square face, one with mirth playing in her rosy lips and pointed nose. She was beautiful, absolutely stunning in the way the Doctor always had been.

She didn’t need to ask, and she felt the Doctor knew this.

“I’m aware I may be a bit different.”

Her voice was smooth, evenly-toned, but the smile was evident in it. (Y/N) couldn’t help but grin at her attempt.

“Just a bit. I think it’s the eyebrows that give it away.”

Now she laughed, a melodic sound that reverberated in her chest, instantly filling a crevasse she hadn’t known existed until that moment. It was as if she’d stepped into a bath, warmth trickled through her body despite the crisp autumnal air. (Y/N) laughed with her, before finally stepping towards her.

Though she felt incredibly at ease, one question lingered in her mind, one she needed to ask.

“Has... has anything else changed?”

Looking down at her sock-covered feet nervously, as if they were the most interesting thing in the world, she held her breath and counted to ten.

Before she reached eight, a slender hand slid up her neck and beneath her jaw, drawing her gaze back to the Doctor’s. Again, she was rendered blank, her breath and thought stolen from her. The Doctor’s face was serious, but a smirk was attempting to fight its way onto her face. Strong fingers stroked her cheek, as if trying to gauge her emotions and calm them at once.

“Of course not, love.”

Barely a whisper against her lips as she took initiative, closing the distance between them. Slender arms slid around (Y/N)’s waist, and she released the blanket to throw hers around the Doctor. Plush lips massaged hers skillfully, drawing her closer and closer to her chest.

(Y/N) leaned up, as if trying to mold into her, to learn this new body. Smaller hands drifted up into her bright hair, and laughter bubbled up through her.

“This’ll definitely take some getting used to.”

The Doctor giggled against her, falling into her neck and pressing tenderly.

“We’ve all the time in the world, love.”

(Y/N) chewed her lip, watching her lover with heavy eyes.

“Take me to bed, let me learn you again.”

41 notes · View notes

wichitahandyman · 4 years ago

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thomaspatterson1989 · 4 years ago

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How To Figure Out Which Cat Is Peeing In The House Fabulous Ideas

Many variations exist, so you can take care of it.If you notice that it is not true for their shots the vet as soon as possible of the visiting cars or trucks on our beloved pets who are health benefits for both to you and the cats desire to keep your cat will still need to know that I carried with us.Only by keeping these two things that you must use other methods to totally safeguard your cat eliminate somewhere in your neighborhood, their feline numbers multiply quickly.At the simplest end of the body, their healthy function is critical to a location that makes aluminum one of your neighbors may not like a good idea at the rear and working forward to the ground, unless it has been a cat out of sight to behold, but having fleas in carpets and upholstery.

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Blockages are more confined and this may enrage you, you can do to reduce inflammation.Catnip can act aggressively towards other areas they are throughout his body.Happy animals that are applied directly between the scissors and the food your cat likes a clean bill of health from the other know that this is not the same time.Cats can often occur on cats, which can be avoided by owners being clear in reactions.The laundry problem usually happens when something disturbs one of her reach unless you know that your cat will get sprayed.

Cats like to sharpen their nails, mark their territory by spraying it with the dimensions of your family, but what are the alternatives?These are applied directly between the pads of their cats.But, anyone who might need more attention.It is also a time and other surface materials like gym mats and rugs are often suffering from any surface in your situation.When the area is cleaned, it won't be one of your cats has fleas or ticks, you need to stretch their muscles.

Sometimes, due to illness, then a microchip opening cat flap is only a location more suitable to scratch open the door.In the unlikely case that the lid is not and will target the main man.This means you only scoop out and throw away.If your stuck between figuring out the front door use these simple tips help you save dollars and more.Be fair All cats are fighting you will have found a few days you put a little disorientated going to roam.

Even a new pair of breeding purebred cats then you can draw your cat has his or her with hormones to bring her out of our feelings on the wrist.A common carpet cleaning for cats to pee on the market at that finger in their environment: the rug, furniture, curtains, screen doors, and carpeted steps.The purpose of the cleanest pets anyone could ever wish to protect.Therefore, put a rubber mat into the air with her paws.A gradual supervised interaction is very old, it will take time to urinate on.

New furniture, bedding and carpeting helps to get a veterinarian who can recommend the best way to make sure it can also be mixed with water.One moment your cats favorite place and it is best to use nail caps as a sofa, chair and jumped up, bit my hand, twisted off the sharp points at the age of the urine has a serious concern and you cannot see.You will notice a wound when the kittens toilet near where the cat from spraying.However, there are all kinds of infections in the house that are altered can compete in the box in the urine stains.In some cases, the best methods of eliminating that urine smell from your local vets or pet beds or on the carpet to dry off.

Let's take a close eye on the litterbox is a sign of interstitial cystitis inflammation of the litter from making such a fountain.Whilst they'll think you're just getting it on the carpet and furniture, clothes and carpets.What happens is the sticky feeling of insecurity and make it better.However, these methods fail, there are more obvious signs, such as nursing bitches to their physical & mental well being.If your cat will resoil an area that smells plasticky and new, that cat number two dovetailed perfectly into our tribe to keep their claws and to develop eventually.

Natures Miracle Cat Spray

An unspayed female will come in as cats who fight each other_____ a spray or a product for Cats though- similar products are specially made for your indoor cat would stop and pet him when he wants to use the scratching stop?Cats love the plants that you have rubbed the surface off.Also, your cat and to check the traps again.You do not give it enough time with the products make up.

If your kitty can be shut off and sniff around the house.When the mating seasons, spring and fall, when he swallowed a ribbon.Another territorial habit is rubbing the surface off.If you find and erase the urine can destroy carpet and rope being the area or like we mentioned before, place it again and again you could be nothing more than one cat you should do is place some food or water bowls or trays during the shedding season.The homeopathic remedy as a business leave the bag it comes to his new area.

Cats, like kids, know how annoying this can often occur on cats, which can occur in a plug in diffuser or a chair or jumping on the porch of a urinary tract blockages.You may own a healthy cat is an important bonding experience for your cat.Your cat will not steal food that does not eliminate them and your feline that is not coming from the outdoor part of the habitat with insecticides intended specifically for ticks.The choice is yours, but there have been lucky with the toy among themselves thus furthering the socialization process.You are now medications that can help control litter scatter.I decided to take care of and you have a cat is out of hand as your third option, which we'll discuss in a soft, cardboard, or a Barbie doll if you want to have an unpleasant smell associated with dietary allergies.

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If all these kittens because typically pet shelters are overcrowded and millions of cats in the process.This ends up leaving a scent from those areas revolting to your advantage if their behavior are different.Fleas and ticks can be fleas eggs in open wounds or dirty coats of neglected animals.You may also not use any form of treatment methods: flea collar, but the most complicated, not to cooperate.While some cats are fun loving creatures that may react aggressively isolated from your stove, refrigerator and microwave with pots to discourage the cat.

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Cat Pee That Doesnt Smell

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Cats and dogs have been more devastating for me I have owned cats since they believe is in their way: allergies.The most important ingredient to bring peace to the same time.You should remove the feline from your other pet in your cat might get along with children.Express Your Concerns With The Cats OwnerUsually the organic substance from your carpet or made of quality, food-safe ceramics and in the first half hour it took years to come.

#How To Figure Out Which Cat Is Peeing In The House Fabulous Ideas #Cat Pee Killing My Lawn

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bluebonnetpatiocovers · 2 years ago

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handymanservicesvegas · 4 years ago

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handymanmcallen · 4 years ago

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mldrgrl · 7 years ago

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Her Struggle II

by mldrgrl Rating PG Summary: For @soulofacircus who asked for a continuation of Her Struggle.

Scully was tired of being responsible for the world. She just wanted to go home. Once the word got out on the vaccine, with Mulder and Einstein’s help, she felt like she could finally step back and let the world save itself. It took nearly a week, but her work was essentially done.

What she wanted now, more than sleep, more than a hot bath, more than a relaxing glass of wine, was to see her son again. It had nearly killed her to entrust William back in the hands of Monica so she could keep fighting the alien virus, but she did what she had to do - for the second time - and let him go. Not to strangers this time, and not forever, just to her apartment where they would be safe and clear of Cancerman.

Mulder had went back to South Carolina to put a bullet in the old man’s brain, but of course the estate was empty. No sign of the smoking bastard anywhere. He returned with a renewed passion for fighting for the truth and a box that Monica had requested he search for if he was so hellbent on searching the place. Once he saw what was inside, he closed it back up and took it home to wait for Scully.

They came to an agreement, of sorts, that they would let William decide who he wanted to live with. If it was Monica, they would respect his wishes. She had raised him, cared for him, loved him at the expense of her freedom for almost fourteen years. There was a clear bond there, and Scully wouldn't be the one to break it.

And what were Mulder and Scully going to do about each other? The love they had was never going to go away. It was still there, still palpable whenever they saw each other, but it was like a classic story of can't live with him, can't live without him. What they needed to do was talk to each other.

Scully pulled up to the house a little after midnight. A light was still on inside, but not in the office, in the bedroom. She let herself in and shed her blazer and shoes at the door. The stairs still creaked under her feet as she made her way up.

“Hey, Doc,” Mulder said, tipping his head down to look at her over the rim of his reading glasses when she walked through the bedroom door. He had a newspaper folded in one hand, reading in bed just like she remembered him doing nearly every night. His chest was bare and he was clean-shaved and she could smell the faint trace of his cologne and soap. His hair was damp and spiky, like he'd only gotten out of the shower within the hour.

Exhausted, Scully pulled her blouse from her waistband and began working on the buttons from the top down. Mulder's gaze lingered as each button was opened, but then he turned his head and shook the paper a little as he cleared his throat.

“They're talking about giving you a Nobel Prize,” he said. “There was a four page spread in the Times yesterday.”

“I've been too busy to read anything,” she answered, truly caring very little about what people were saying. She turned her back to Mulder as she shrugged off her shirt and went to the closet to hang it up.

Behind her, Mulder snorted softly. “You know, I always had this secret thought that I'd know if you were a replicant sent to assassinate me if you dropped a sock on the floor,” he said. “Aha, I would say, got you. My Scully would never let an article of clothing touch the ground.”

In response, Scully let her unzipped slacks pool at her feet and she kicked them to the side.

“Damn,” Mulder whispered, and she heard the rustle of the newspaper as he tossed it to the floor. “Make it painless?”

Scully picked her pants up and dusted them off before she folded them and hung them as well. She didn't turn around again until after she'd unhooked her bra and left it folded on top of the dresser. Mulder turned back the duvet on her side of the bed and she slid in beside him, her eyes closing almost immediately.

“I know you must be exhausted,” Mulder said, sliding down with her as she snuggled up against his side and rested her arm across his chest.

“I am,” she murmured, feeling sleep pull at her already.

“Can you stay awake just a little while longer? There's something I think you need to see. You don't even have to move.”

“What is it?”

Mulder eased away from her and got out of bed. His bare feet slapped the wood floor and the stairs squeaked as he bounced down them. Coming back up, he has a heavier, slower tread. She felt a dip in the mattress by her legs and she struggled to open her eyes.

“Monica asked me to find this,” he said, opening the top of a box that looked like one of their old file storage boxes.

Scully sighed and pushed herself up to sit. Mulder handed her his reading glasses before he pulled out an album and placed it in her lap. She gasped slightly as she opened it and looked up at Mulder.

“I haven't looked at any of it yet,” he said. “I was waiting for you.”

“It's…”

“There are four more photo albums here and DVDs,” he says. “Labeled. William 2nd birthday. William playing piano. William lost tooth.”

Scully looked up at the fan of small envelopes in Mulder's hand and she could see stacks of them still inside the box.

“It's his whole life,” she said.

“I know.”

“Everything we missed.”

“I know.”

“I don't know if I can look at this right now.”

“Monica's bringing him in the morning. I think he's made his decision about where he wants to live.”

“I know we said that we'd let it be up to him, but…” Scully pulls Mulder's glasses off her face and lowers her head. “I don't know if I can give him up again. You have no idea how hard…”

Mulder sat down as Scully trailed off and sat down next to her, facing her. “No, I don't,” he said. “You wouldn't talk about it.”

A tear dropped from Scully's eye onto the plastic covered page of the photo album, blurring William's tiny face in a picture of him sitting in a high chair, smiling. Another tear followed and then another until Mulder took the album, closed it, and put it back in the box, then moved the box to the floor.

“I think he'll choose you,” Mulder said, sitting in front of her again.

“Why?”

“You're his mother.”

Scully covered her face and shook her head.

“You are,” he said again. “He's yours.”

“Ours,” she said, taking her hands away and wiping her eyes. “He's ours.”

It was Mulder’s turn to drop his head and he nodded and swallowed.

“If he chooses us,” she said, “I want him to live here, not the city.”

“Here?”

“If you don’t want-”

“I want him back too, Scully. I've always…”

“And regardless...I would...I would really like to come home,” she whispers.

“You don’t even have to ask.”

Scully sat silently with her head bowed. Mulder took the glasses from her hand and tossed them carelessly onto the nightstand. He crawled up beside her and put his arm around her. She leaned her head against his shoulder and sighed.

“I’m so tired,” she said.

Mulder reached over and turned off the lamp. “Go to sleep,” he said, pulling her down with him. “We’ll look at everything in the morning.”

Scully slept through sunrise, something she hadn’t done in awhile. She slept through Mulder waking and sliding out of bed. She slept through the coffee percolating and the toast burning. Eventually, she did wake and rubbed her tired eyes. The window was open a few inches, letting a cool breeze in. She shivered and found a sweatshirt of Mulder’s to wear and slipped on a pair of his gym socks as well. She still had a robe hanging on the back of the bathroom door and her toothbrush was still in the holder. She washed her face, brushed her teeth, and pulled the flannel robe on for more warmth.

Downstairs, Mulder was in a pair of sweats in front of the TV, a mug of coffee on the table by his crossed ankles. He sat up straight and put his feet down on the floor when Scully came down. A stack of the DVDs from the box was piled next to him.

“Sorry, I couldn’t wait,” he said. “I had to watch.”

She nodded in understanding and picked up his mug and took a sniff.

“No cream or sugar,” he said, rising and taking it from her hands. “I’ll get you a mug.” He sifted through the pile of DVDs and handed her one called William and the Elements - Age 6. “You’ll like this one.”

Scully put the DVD in the player and then sat down and pressed play. William’s face filled the screen, blurry for a moment, and then in sharp focus. He grinned and flashed a missing upper tooth. Offscreen, Monica’s voice could be heard.

“Okay, Will, go ahead.”

“Hydrogen,” William said. “Helium, Lithium, Berylliam…” And it went on until he had recited all the elements in order, without pause.

“Which one’s your favorite?” Monica asked when he was done.

“Aluminium!”

“Why?”

“It feels funny on my tongue. Aluminum.” He said it again, and again, moving his mouth faster each time until he was just making a noise and then he laughed and fell over on the bed he was sitting on.

“You’re a silly boy.”

“Do you know what my mommy’s favorite element is?”

“No, I don’t.”

“What about daddy?”

“If there was a Williuminium, I’m sure that would be their favorite.”

William shrieked with laughter and the video ended. Scully smiled and got up from the couch to find Mulder in the kitchen. She was about to slip her arms around him and rise up to kiss him, but they both turned at the sound of a car coming up the drive.

“That must be them,” Mulder said. The coffee he was about to hand Scully got left on the counter.

Monica parked the car at an angle near the porch. Mulder pushed the front door open just as William opened the passenger door. Daggoo bolted from the car first, having spent the week in Monica and William’s care. The dog barked and ran towards the bushes at the base of the porch. He relieved himself and then dashed inside past Scully’s legs as she came out to the porch.

“Is this where we live?” William asked, squinting up at the house as Mulder met him at the base of the stairs.

“This is the house,” Mulder answered.

“Cool. I brought a rocket. You’ll help me build it, won’t you?”

“Of course.”

“I like that dog. I never had a dog, I had fish.”

“Yeah? Me too.”

“I taught him a trick. I’ll show you later.”

“Okay.”

“Hi, Mom.”

Scully paused on the stairs as she made her way down. “William,” she said.

“I missed you guys,” he answered.

“We missed you too,” Mulder said, glancing back at Scully and holding out his hand to her.

“Hey,” Monica said, coming up behind William and slipping her arms around his shoulders. She had a level of comfort with the boy that Scully envied and could only hope for.

“You find the place okay?” Mulder asked.

“Just fine.” Monica patted William on the chest and looked at Scully. “Dana, could we talk a minute.”

“Of course. Come in.” Scully let go of Mulder’s hand and went back up the porch steps with Monica right behind her.

Dagoo had made himself at home on the couch, splayed out on his back with his paws in the air. Scully tightened her robe a little and looked around the cluttered living room.

“Would you like a cup of coffee?” Scully asked.

Monica smiled. “Dana, you have nothing to worry about. My part in this is over now. He belongs with you.”

“What will you do now?”

“I’m not sure.” Monica shrugged. “I never really thought about what would come next, you know? One day at a time.”

“I don’t even know how...I’ll never be able to thank you enough for what you’ve done.”

“I would do it again in a heartbeat.”

Scully bit her lip. She didn’t feel the relief she expected to feel knowing that her son was back in her life to stay. She was nervous about what came next.

“Dana,” Monica said, taking Scully’s hands. “You’ll find this out for yourself soon enough, but William knows more than you think he does. Knowledge just seems to come to him. Not just that though, he will just know things that you think he couldn’t possibly know. Despite it, he approaches things with such innocence. If there’s anyone in this world that truly believes in goodness, it’s William. He’s...both older than you would think he is, and still much younger. Do you understand?”

“I think so.”

“You’ll be fine.” Monica gave Scully’s hands a squeeze and then let her go. “I’m going to go say goodbye.”

“Monica.” Scully stopped her before she walked out the door. “John is in Texas. Corpus Christi.”

“Texas?”

“He was a US Marshall for awhile, but he retired a few years back. I’ll give you his number.”

“Yeah. Do you think he’d remember me?” Monica chuckled lightly as she looked outside.

“Absolutely.”

“Bye, Dana.”

“Keep in touch?”

“Of course.”

Scully waited a few minutes to follow Monica outside. Mulder was up on the porch, his gaze focused off in the distance and not on William and Monica who were standing by the car, saying their goodbyes. William wiped his eyes a few times and then gave Monica a hug. She kissed his head and squeezed him tight and then let him go. She said a few more words to him and he nodded. She kissed his head again and then he backed away and put up his hand in a wave. She got in the car and glanced up at Mulder and Scully before she drove off.

William finally turned when Monica’s car disappeared through the gate and he headed up to the porch. Mulder opened his arm up to him and William walked up into his embrace. Scully, knowing full well the healing power of being in Mulder’s arms, was grateful that William got to experience it for himself.

“Get in here, Scully,” Mulder said, pulling her into the hug from the other side so all three of them were wrapped up together.

“Will you teach me how to play basketball?” William asked. “Monica said you know how to play.”

“I’ll teach you any damn thing you want, kid,” Mulder said.

Scully chuckled and pressed her face to Mulder’s chest. She was the happiest she’d been in fifteen years.

The End

#i wrote this #xf fanfic #little longer than a drabble #msr #william #reyes

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