#after i get through my birthday fic for lis anyway i need to finish that so bad... i'll work on it after my awards ceremony or smth today | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

alfredolover119 · 4 years ago

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I looooove your zukka rec lists! I recently became Avatar-obsessed, never got a chance to watch it as a kid and only just got through it all! I was wondering if you'd consider doing a specifically angst rec list? I love fluffy zukka everything, but sometimes you just gotta have your heart ripped out of your chest and put back in after being thoroughly blended.

thank you! i relate heavily to “recently became Avatar-obsessed” haha. as for the angst list, i sure can try! warning: all of these have happy endings because im a crybaby who can’t read unhappy endings. also, p much all of the fics in the completed section were featured on my other lists but this is specifically the ANGSTY ones >:^)

angsty zukka wips

first, most obviously, feels like we only go backwards by @oldpotatoe

-currently at 102k with 19/27 chapters posted; rated teen

-the amnesia fic. the amnesia fic. the amnesia fic. you know. i haven’t actually read it yet because, as previously mentioned, i’m a crybaby and am waiting for it to finish up but, from my understanding, this fic will murder you in a dark alleyway with no remorse. if u like zukka angst, you’ve probably already read this, but just in case!

An injury leaves Sokka with amnesia. His last memory is of the failed invasion, of leaving his father behind in enemy territory on the Day of Black Sun. Of hopelessness. Rage. // But then he wakes up, and the war is over. Suddenly, he must come to terms with the fact that years have passed, and that he's somehow the Southern Water Tribe Ambassador to the Fire Nation. He is also supposedly friends with banished-Prince-turned-Fire-Lord Zuko, of all people. Close friends.

Yeah, nah.

and i’ll do anything you say (if you say it with your hands) by @goldrushzukka

-currently 38k with 6/8 chapters posted; rated mature

-holy shit. holy SHIT. modern au based on the “my cat likes my fuckbuddy and i am falling in love” trope(?). maybe it’s just because of how the last chapter ended, but oh my god. this one made me cry. made me want to commit violence. when it’s not angsty as hell, it’s pretty funny, but holy shit. ao3 user nebulastucky please.

It’s supposed to be a one night stand. Pick up some guy at a bar, barely remember his name and never learn anything real about him, send him packing in the morning with a thanks for the ride and a cup of coffee to-go. That’s how it’s supposed to go. // But then it’s the best sex Sokka has ever had, and he thinks he’ll hate himself if he never gets to have it again.

Violet Blossoms and Celestial Objects by @hollypunkers

-currently 15k with 2/? posted. rated teen.

-this is the sequel to blue (an angsty, zukka rewrite of book 2-- go read it if u havent!)! !! this is a book 3 rewrite. only two chapters in and mrs hollypunkers is really abusing the miscommunication tag, as zukka writers seem to enjoy doing. im excited to see how the world and story develops with the changes to the story! you should be too!! its very good! obviously spoilers for blue lmao

Having sided with the Avatar in Ba Sing Se, Zuko not only must navigate his new relationship with Sokka but returning to the Fire Nation as a banished enemy. His own journey of self discovery and personal growth must now coexist alongside the personal struggles of every other member of the Gaang as together they blaze a treacherous path toward an unsure victory against Zuko's own father and nation.

breakable heaven by @fruitysokka

-currently 71k with 9/11 chapters posted. rated teen

-swt ambassador zuko! soon to be chief sokka! fake dating ur best friend to get out of an arranged marriage! what could go wrong!!! i also haven’t read this one ((see: i’m a crybaby who is being hurt by too many zukka wips already)), but it has been hanging out in my marked for later for months. from what i understand, this fic has: angst.

With his twenty-first birthday looming just around the corner, the Southern Water Tribe Elders have decided that Sokka, next in line to be Chief, needs to get married. Sokka does not want that, but he does need to get them off his back until he can figure his way out of it. What better way to do that than to pretend to date his best friend (and newly minted Ambassador to the Southern Water Tribe) Zuko? // Seriously, this is a foolproof plan. Maybe one of Sokka's best. Absolutely nothing can go wrong.

angsty zukka fics (completed!)

(i’ll put these in wc order)

lighthouse beam by @incorrectzukka

-7k, rated g

-a modern college au!! zuko’s inner-monologue is very angsty in this fic. typical zuko. also per usual, theyre both fucking dorks. they sort themselves out in the end, but not before The Angst. zuko is semi-deaf in this fic and also he has a bit of internalized homophobia.

Sokka’s breathtakingly beautiful and he’s smart and makes other people laugh. Zuko has a half-burnt face and a deaf ear. It’s not rocket science. // Or, Zuko falls in love with the boy in his Philosophy class.

This Isn’t My Idea of Fun by @khaleeseas

-9k, explicit

-moon spirit/nwt prince!sokka, no war to be found here! admittedly this isnt THAT angsty but like. the angst IS present. zuko is still the prince. a lovely childhood friends (though they hated each other for a minute haha) to lovers story.

If you asked Zuko, he and Azula saw far too much of Chief Hakoda of the Northern Water Tribe’s children growing up. It wasn’t until they were older, and Azula pointed out that - duh - their families were trying to set them all up, that he realized why. // He was told by his mother to be polite. These people were their friends and allies, and though their nations were as different as they came, harmony between nations was the most important thing. // It wasn’t his fault the Chief’s children were so annoying.

put your lips close to mine (as long as they don’t touch) by @celestialceci

-9k, teen

-modern au! zuko and sokka are college roommates. zuko goes to spend the summer with sokka. again,, not really that angsty but-- its there!! the detail and feeling of Home in this story make me happy. zuko is insecure as hell here too. if ur into that.

Zuko hates his home. He likes college alright, but he likes Sokka even better, his assigned roommate turned best friend. Spending the summer with Sokka will be fun, a welcome change of pace he desperately wants. It probably won't awaken anything in him... right?

the thing about dancing by anodymalion

-9k, teen

-yes. this one right here officer. it makes my heart ache. also trans sokka! which is cool. but the zuko angst in this one. hurts me. not so much relationship angst as it is zuko learning he deserves happiness angst. i’m sure u know The Type.

The first time a attendant spills Zuko’s tea and doesn’t immediately fall to her knees, begging the Fire Lord’s forgiveness, it is not anger but a resounding warmth that fills his chest.

i could (never) give you peace by @zukkababey

-10k, mature

-OUCH. OUCH OUCH OUCH. boys please learn to communicate im begging u. also zuko.. zuko, dude. as the tags of the fic say, hes “really going through it” in this one. YOUCH. post-canon.

Zuko almost said it. He almost said the words I think I’m in love with you, but he choked them back down at the last second. // Zuko would never be able to be what Sokka wanted. They might have needed each other during the summer, when two boys with too much weight on their shoulders found comfort in each other in the only way they knew how. // But now Zuko was Fire Lord, and Sokka was leaving.

this love burns so yellow (becoming orange and in its time, exploding) by @meliebee

-18k, teen, major character death

-i lied. THIS is the one, officer. found family.. good mai and zuko and toph friendships.. . ozai escapes prison and tries to overthrow zuko. OBVIOUSLY angst ensues. poor boy. he Does heal in this but it gets worse before it gets better. angst angst angst angst.

Ten months after Zuko is crowned at seventeen, he faces his first coup.

Anything for You by beersforqueers

-23k, explicit

-istg. this is probably one of my favorite zukka fics. its PAINFUL. modern au where theyre broken up but sokka hasnt told his family yet so zuko goes home with him for kataang wedding. a bit smutty, but the plot oh my god ohgm y fuvk. made me cry the first time i read it. (see: crybaby!me) insert that one picture of the horse with the caption PAIN.

In which Sokka and Zuko have broken up but Sokka hasn't told his family yet. So when Katara and Aang's wedding weekend rolls around and he doesn't want to break Gran-Gran's heart, he asks Zuko to pretend to be his boyfriend for one last weekend. // Things don't go as planned.

Moving Mountains by @thefangirlingdead

-64k, mature

-so. when i read this the first time it was in one sitting. soulmate au set within canon era / the comics, to an extent. soulmates can hear each others thoughts. i will happily say this is slowburn, jesus christ. champagne without the cham.

Soulmates are chosen by the spirits and can hear each other’s thoughts. Sokka thinks it’s cheesy and dumb. Zuko thinks it’s poetic justice that he doesn’t have one because he doesn’t deserve it. Cruel irony is finding out that the prince of the Fire Nation (and the person currently hunting you) is your soulmate.

In the Soft Light by @voidcenturyscholar and @romancedawning

-83k, teen, graphic depictions of violence

-moon spirit!sokka living in the northern water tribe. zuko is sent to the northern water tribe as a cultural liaison. iroh is the fire lord but while he is away taking care of lu ten after his injury ozai steps up. i cannot express how many emotions this fic made me feel. background yuetara. i would almost say found family?? but. anyway. plenty of angst to spare here with a healthy dose of enemies to friends to lovers.

As the newly appointed cultural liaison to Northern Water Tribe, Zuko is the first Fire Nation Citizen to step foot inside the city's walls in nearly a century. He's determined to prove himself—to the Fire Lord and to his father—even if the Water Tribe's spirit-touched prince seems to want nothing to do with him.

That Midnight Sky by @zukkababey

-103k, teen

-now now now. tms... modern college au where sokka agrees to tutor zuko in physics because zuko has to maintain straight a’s and physics is just not doing it for him. so. thats cool but THEN azula moves in, randomly, with zuko. to hide the fact that sokka is tutoring zuko, they fake date! what could go wrong!! the mutual pining in here combined with the angst... wonderful, tasty. everyone read it rn. also SLOWBURN

In Zuko’s strict family, needing a tutor is just about the worst thing you could do. Failing a class, however, is even worse. The only rational solution? Take up Aang on his offer to find him a physics tutor and have Sokka—beautiful, smart, handsome Sokka—tutor him in secret. // When Azula’s arrival threatens to reveal Zuko’s secret, it’s up to Sokka to convince her this definitely isn’t what it looks like. See, he’s actually… Zuko’s… boyfriend? // Hmm. There’s no way this could get complicated, right?

#zukka #zuko #sokka #angst #zukka angst #atla #avatar: the last airbender #fic recs #zukka fic recs

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bl00dgutsgl0ry · 4 years ago

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ahh i’ve read all ur childe fics and they are absolutely amazing 🥺 i also live for angst and the way you portray ur characters emotions is emasculate *chefs kiss* is it possible if i may request an angsty childe fic where his s/o feels betrayed after finding out hes only been with her as part of the fatui’s plans but throughout the process childe actually falls in love and never meant to hurt them? and pls a fluffy ending bc my heart can’t take angst 🥺👉🏻👈🏻

Pairing - Childe/Tartaglia/Ajax x Reader

Warnings - Spoilers for Childe’s background.

Other Comments - Hello!! I am so glad that you are enjoying my stuff! I never would have imagined that I would receive so much positive feedback as I just started doing this but everyone has welcomed me with open arms hehe!! (//▽//) Anyway you are in luck because I absolutely love writing angst so lets go! Also these are heavily inspired by the songs Decode and All I Wanted by Paramore so I kinda recommend listening to them while you read. (๑˘︶˘๑)

Everyone you have encountered along your journey have been so friendly; all of them going out of their way to assist you. You have gained many friends along your way which have caused you to become quite a trusting person, to a fault at this point. Every person you have met with try their best to help you with your journey and leave a lingering friendship which you are incredibly grateful for. When you first decided you wanted to become an adventurer, your parents were extremely apprehensive, not trusting the world around you. You were determined to prove them wrong, and so far you have.

You had decided you wanted to settle down in Liyue for a while, exhausted from the constant traveling. This way you were always able to stay close around the Adventurers Guild. Along your journey of living in Liyue you had continued to meet many lovely and helpful people; one being a tall copper headed man.

During your travel and adventuring you had started to become a fairly big name, as you were incredibly skilled and managed to help save Mondstadt on a variety of occasions; even getting to know the grand master of the Knights of Favonius. So when a tall young man approached you, already knowing your name you weren’t all too surprised. You had already settled down into your small cozy apartment when he had come up to you.

“Excuse me, you don’t happen to be (y/n) do you?” You looked up, your eyes meeting bright blue ones as you found the owner of the soothing voice.

“Oh uh, yes that’s me. Is there something I can help you with?” A pleasant smile graced your face as the tall man gave a polite smile back before continuing.

“I was wondering if you could assist me with a domain, I seem to be having a bit more trouble with it than I had expected. I’ve heard you’re one of the best out there right now.” Your face flushed, something about this man was so endearing, and helping him out couldn’t be too hard, you had been able to defeat most of the domains in the area anyway so why not?

“Sure, I’d be more than happy to help you out! Are you an adventurer like I am?” You heard Childe let out a low chuckle.

“Oh no I am a Fatui Harbinger.” Wait- did he just say he was a Harbinger? You didn’t know much about the Fatui, but what you did know and have heard from other people was that the Fatui were always bad news. He didn’t seem like what everyone was saying though.

“Well then, when would you like to go?”

That was the beginning of your relationship with the Harbinger. After that you two both seemed to get along surprisingly well, and you found yourself struggling to stop seeing him. He was always on your mind, and with him almost always being around you that wasn’t helping either.

“So, where shall we go today darling?” Childe had decided to take up space in your already cramped apartment, not that you were complaining. It had been about six months since you had settled down in Liyue and you decided it was finally time to start traveling again. You had formed a really close connection with Childe, he always seemed to be your savior in situations that you needed it. You hoped that Childe would come along with you, but part of you had a feeling that he had to stay here for some reason.

“Well I was thinking I would go back to traveling again, I have stayed for about half a year so I think it’s time.” The smile that always seemed to find its place on Childe face quickly dropped, and you saw something change for a split second before returning back to normal.

“Oh well if that’s what you want then I am not going to stop you, but I can no longer accompany you, you better leave as soon as possible though.” Now what could he have said that for.

“So you can cover as much ground of course!” Childe must’ve picked up on your questioning gaze when he said that, as a reassuring smile found its way back to his face.

“I suppose you’re right, I need to say goodbye to the friends that I’ve made here though. Could you help me pack my things while I go do that?” A strong nod came from Childe before you granted yourself permission to leave.

It took you longer than you had anticipated to track down and say goodbye to all of the friends you had made here and Liyue, which you could blame Xiangling for as she made sure to make plenty of your favourite dishes for your trip.

As you approached your building you saw the back of the boy you knew so well, duck into a dark alley. Something could’ve been wrong, so to make sure he was okay you quietly followed a little ways behind.

“Are you deaf or just stupid? Your job was to get close to the dumb bitch and then bring them in. What is taking so long are you kidding?” A shorter man with a large hat was currently talking to Childe, surely they couldn’t be talking about you.

“Listen I know what my orders were, I was just waiting for a good time.” Childe’s voice was quite and his eyes were focused on the ground.

“If they’re leaving today, you better hope that they are still in Liyue for your own well being.” With that the shorter man quickly turned away and stormed off. So it was all a setup. Everything they did and talked about... All the things he told you... You as you were backing away in disbelief your shoe scuffed against the ground, causing Childe to whip around, those once familiar blue eyes meeting yours blowing out wide.

“(Y/n) wait-” You didn’t let him finish before you took off sprinting up to your apartment, hoping to get up there and lock yourself in. Was he going to kill you for over hearing?

You tripped a couple times going up the stairs hoping to the gods that you would still have enough time to shut and lock your door, all the while Childe was behind you begging for you to stop, for you to come back. Relief washed over you as your eyes found your door, adrenaline still pumping wildly through you.

“Please please please gods let me in!” You franticly attempted to unlock your door, the adrenaline making you shaky causing you to miss the keyhole. Your feverish prayers were answered when you flung the front door open, Childe’s loud footsteps pounding against the floor behind you. Right as you were slamming the door closed Childe’s body flew against the door, causing it to swing back open, hitting you in the process and tossing you to the ground; knocking the wind out of you.

Childe stood over you, panting as he tried to catch his breath. Was this the end? Were you going to die? Your wild eyes found his, the fear in them causing him to falter. He never wanted to see fear in your eyes, especially not because of him. The darkness of the night made it hard to see, the only light spilling in from the hallway through your open front door, spotlighting your face and the tears you had falling down your cheeks. You don’t remember when you started crying but it was obvious now. Neither of you spoke for a while, not knowing what to say. It was clear that Childe wasn’t going to kill you, but that still left a plethora of issues.

“You...” You began to speak, your voice shaky and uncertain. Childe’s eyes silently begged for you to stop.

“You took advantage of me. Everything was a lie. Was anything that came out of your mouth true?!” Sadness and anger flushed your face and you slowly rose to your feet.

“(Y/n) please... I never meant for it to go on this long.” That didn’t help his situation, that sentence having the same effect of putting water on an oil fire. Anger bloomed from your chest, almost making it hard to breathe.

“I trusted you! I guess this is all my fault for putting my trust into a Fatui Harbinger! Childe’s not even your real name! I know NOTHING about you!! And... and I let you stay with me! Keep me company! I let you put your filthy hands on me! You kissed me!!” Tears began to spill faster, but not just from you this time.

“(Y/n) please my feelings and actions towards you were no lies!! I admit this was all set up, but then I began to truly fall in love with you!! You have to believe me!” A loud broken laugh escaped your lips, almost like a bark.

“Believe you?! Again I don’t even know your real name-”

“Tartaglia.” This stopped you in your tracks, you couldn’t quite make sense of what he said.

“What?” Your words were barely above a whisper.

“My name. It’s Tartaglia. My family calls me Ajax. I am the 11th Harbinger of the Fatui. I moved to Liyue as a debt collector. I don’t want to be in the Fatui, not ever since I met you. You knew who the Fatui were and still chose to trust me. No one except my family has ever looked at me the way you do. I am from Snezhnaya. My birthday is July 20th. I enjoy ice fishing and combat. I have many siblings, a couple younger brothers named Teucer and Anthony and I have a sister named Tonia. See? You know so much more now!” You couldn’t bring yourself to say anything, you just stared at him. Childe or Tartaglia rather, was clearly getting anxious at your silence, as he shifted around more or fiddled with his gloves. He was normally so confident, so seeing him like this was shocking.

“(Y/n) please, say something; anything.” The desperation in his voice made your chest tighten. What could you say? On one hand you wanted to just forgive him and fall into his arms, on the other hand he had completely destroyed your trust; were you really willing on forgiving him that easily?

“Childe... I...” You could see Tartaglia flinch, not used to the tone of his code name on you tongue. He wanted so desperately for you to just say his real name. He wanted to embrace you, for you to forgive him. He would find a way out of this for the both of you.

“(Y/n) I will help you. I fell in love with you. I knew the second I set my eyes on you that I say going to fall for you. I will get you out of this situation, I have to. I know it’s stupid to say this now, but you have to trust me on this. After I get you out of here is when you can hit me scream at me and tell me never to see you again. I just need to make sure you’re safe.” You couldn’t hold yourself back anymore as you began to cry again. Tartaglia stepped close to you, slowly to make sure that you had a way to back up if you didn’t want him to get closer. When you didn’t move he took that as an ‘okay’ to get close, and that’s what he did.

Slowly the distance between the two of you closed as Tartaglia sunk to his knees and clung to you. His hold on you was iron tight, as he waited and hoped for you to return the hold; which much to his surprise you did. You clung to him and cried.

“I will make you trust me again (y/n). I will make you trust me and I will keep you safe. You have my word. I love you.”

#genshin impact #genshin #genshin childe #genshin tartaglia #genshin impact childe #genshin impact tartaglia #genshin impact imagine #childe imagine #childe imagines #tartaglia imagine #tartaglia imagines #tartaglia x reader #childe x reader #genshin x reader #genshin imagine

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engie-ivy · 4 years ago

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do you have a fic where remus confronts Sirius of believing he was the spy (like maybe canon divergence - they all live) and refuses to agree that just because there was a war doesn’t mean he should’ve not trusted him or used the excuse that he’s a werewolf not to believe him

Hi!

I have fics that deal with the suspicions and false accusations during the war! But these do take on a more Fluffy path, and eventually lead to them being understanding and forgiving of each other's behaviour😅

You might like the confrontation in

If Tomorrow the World Crumbles

“Well, what am I supposed to bloody think, then?” Sirius shouted back. “You’re obviously keeping things from me! How is this sketchy behaviour going to make anything better? Why couldn’t you just come talk to me, so you could have proven that you’re not-”

“Because I shouldn’t have to proof anything to you!” A hint of pain was seeping through in Remus’s frustration. “All my life I’ve had to proof myself to everyone, and all my life I’ll have to continue proving myself, simply because of what I am, but not to you. Never to you. You’re supposed to believe in me! You’re the one person who’s supposed to be on my side.”

And here's an excerpt from my longer fic

If Only You Knew the Whole Story

He’s sitting in a chair. His arms are handcuffed behind his back and his ankles are chained to the legs of the chair. Protective spells are placed around him, making it impossible to come any closer than half a meter in his vicinity, though there isn’t much he could even do without his wand. His long, dark hair is tied in a messy bun with loose strands falling over his face, and he still has the muggle clothes on he was wearing when he got arrested.

He’d been wearing muggle clothes a lot. When James teased him about it, he told him to go try and ride a motorbike in flapping wizarding robes and then come talk to him. No one particularly minded seeing him in tight fitted muggle clothes anyway, as the man has always been unfairly good-looking.

He looks up as Emmeline enters the room, his grey eyes empty and emotionless.

Sirius Black.

“I didn’t think you’d come back. You seemed rather pissed off when you left the last time.”

“I’m pissed off at you by default. But I did some fact-checking on your previous claims.”

Black rolls his eyes. “If you looked him up in the Animagus register, I could have told you-”

“Actually, I went to a more direct source.”

“Hello, Black.” Remus steps in the room, his eyes focused somewhere on the logo on Black’s worn-out band shirt, deliberately not meeting Black’s eyes, his mask of indifference firmly in place. Emmeline understands his need to not show any emotion in front of Black.

Black’s face, on the other hand, is a whole different story. It’s hard to imagine his eyes were so void of emotion just a moment ago, as a variety of emotions passes over his face.

Disbelief. Hope. Fear. Guilt. Pain.

When he speak, soft and barely audible, his voice sounds so broken that it sends a shock through Emmeline’s body. She can tell Remus feels the same, as his eyes snap up to Black’s face.

“Remus? Please...”

“I messed up, Remus. I messed up so bad. But if only you knew the whole story-”

“You’re going to tell me the whole story,” Remus interrupts, his voice cold and bitter. “The real story.” He opens his palm to reveal the small flask of Veritaserum.

Now, Emmeline was expecting anger. Anger as Black would realise he wouldn’t be able to make up stories anymore. Anger as he saw his plans of manipulating Remus with his lies go up in smoke. Emmeline may have understood shock, that they would actually dare to force him to take the truth potion, or maybe even panic, now that his ploy is officially over.

What Emmeline did not expect, however, was the look of sheer hope on Black’s face, like he’s a dehydrated man who has been wandering the dessert for days and Remus is holding a glass of fresh, cold water.

“Yes,” he says pleading. “Yes, please...”

It completely catches Emmeline off guard, and she can tell Remus is also thrown off. He stares at Black dumbfounded and seems unsure what to do next. He fumbles with the flask, opening it and sliding it across the table towards Black.

As they can’t get near Black with the protective charms surrounding him, Emmeline doesn’t know what they would have done of he had simply refused to drink the potion, but then again, that would have said enough of itself, wouldn’t it? Now, however, Black wastes no time in bending forward, taking the flask between his lips and throwing his head back, gulping the potion down.

After Black has dropped the empty bottle back on the table, he sits motionless in his chair, his eyes closed. Remus is staring at him intently, his mouth in a hard line and his knuckles turning white where he’s gripping the edge of the table. The moment can’t have lasted more than a few minutes, but it feels like an eternity. Despite all her talk about only doing this for Remus, not believing anything will come of it, Emmeline feels nerves coursing through her body. There’s a heavy tension hanging in the room and the air feels thick. Emmeline can only imagine what this moment must be like for Remus.

After what seems like hours, Black slowly opens his eyes. “It wasn’t me.”

So few words hardly more than a whisper, but their impact couldn’t have been greater if he had shouted them in their faces.

Remus’s legs threaten to give out from under him and he supports himself on the table, staring at the wood while gasping for air.

“It wasn’t me, it wasn’t me, it wasn’t me.” Black repeats the words like a mantra.

Remus lifts his head, and upon seeing the pain, hope and confusion on his face, Emmeline wants to run to him, support him and start questioning Black, but at the same time she feels like she needs to stay out of it for now, this needs to be between them.

“What wasn’t you?” Remus breathes. “I need to hear you say it.”

“Everything. Any of it. The murders, the betrayal. Rem, I wasn’t even the Secret-Keeper!”

“But... But...” Remus tries desperately to order his thoughts. “Peter?”

Black nods silently.

Remus shakes his head. “No, no. James insisted! He would never choose anyone but you!”

“No, he wouldn’t.” Black replies as he shifts his gaze downwards, sadness reflecting in his eyes. “Not until I convinced him to. Merlin, I thought I was so clever! A perfect way to throw them off track. Who would even consider it being anyone else?”

“But you told me it was you! Those evenings we spent talking about it...”

“I lied! I lied to you, Remus.”

Remus stares at him for a while. “You didn’t trust me.” It’s not a question.

“We knew there was a spy,” Black says, looking absolutely miserable. “We just didn’t know who.”

“And I was the logical choice,” Remus states. “I assume because I’m a dark creature?”

“Yes. It was because you’re a werewolf.” Black looks Remus straight in the eyes. “Because you have fifteen years of experience keeping secrets and hiding who you are. And you’re so damned good at it! Better than anyone I know. Dumbledore always chose you for the most secret missions. You were the only one amongst us no one had any idea of where they were going or what they were doing.”

“That wasn’t by choice!”

“I know, I know. Remus, you have to understand. We didn’t think you were the traitor, we just couldn’t be absolutely sure that you weren’t the traitor.”

Remus swallows and looks away. “What’s the difference?”

“The difference is that I felt with every fibre of my being that I could trust you and you would never hurt us!” Black speaks. “But at that time, I couldn’t allow myself to feel, I had to think. And logical thinking, shutting off all emotion, said that none of us could say with one hundred percent certainty that it wasn’t you. With Harry’s life at stake, we couldn’t afford to take any chances. It was best not to tell.”

Remus nods, but he’s still not meeting Black’s gaze.

“Remus, please look at me,” Black says earnest. “I need you to know this. We still would have died for you in a heartbeat, Lily, James and me. We still thought the world of you.”

“But I thought the worst of you!” Remus’s breath hitches. “I despised you, wanted to hate you! If I had found you that night, I would have...”

He doesn’t finish his sentence, doesn’t need to.

Black doesn’t look shocked, or even angry. He just looks immensely sad.

“Why wouldn’t you have? I fucked everything up, Remus. I lied to you, I trusted the wrong people, I distrusted the wrong people, I convinced James to take a path that lead straight to his death. And I can’t even do the only thing James asked me to do in case the worst would happen! I can’t even take care of Harry, like I promised I would. I abandoned him in my failed attempt at revenge, another one of my numerous mistakes. I literally can’t think of a single thing I haven’t screwed up these last weeks.”

Remus just stares at him. Only after a long silence, he speaks.

“You really are... you.”

Black just blinks at him.

“I mean, the boy who snuck out of the dorm to keep me company in the hospital wing, the boy who bribed the house elves to make my favourite chocolate cake on my birthday, the man who wanted me to stay with him when I had no place to live and never let me go, the man who once attacked five Death Eaters on his own because one of them had tried to use the Cruciatus curse on me... That person was not a facade, an act or a lie. That person was really you. You’re really that person.”

“Telling you I was the Secret-Keeper was hard for me, as it was the first and only time I ever lied to you, I promise.”

“I know,” Remus slides down in the chair across from Black. “And it’s okay, Sirius. It’s okay.”

Sirius closes his eyes for a moment. As he opens them again to look at Remus, they’re filled with relief.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers. “It’s just... You’re the only person who I couldn’t bear to see me as a monster.”

Remus smiles softly. “Yeah, I know that feeling.”

I hope you still like it, though it might not be exactly what you're looking for!

#thanks for the ask!#wolfstar #wolfstar fanfiction #wolfstar fic #marauders #marauders fanfiction #marauders fic #sirius black #remus lupin #remus x sirius #first wizarding war

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yanderecandystore · 3 years ago

Note

Can we get some content for how the Android darling and Ms. Bright would meet?

In this [🍰🍑🤖] we get a glimpse of what their relationship is like and a lil mention of how things have worked out- But let's see how it played out from the a.is perspective.

Hi boo, I hope you're doing great, I'm very sorry for the long ass waiting- Sadly I may warn y'all that I have gone through many stages while writing this: h 0 r ny, corny, and angsty. This is actually pretty heavy, as I tried pulling some of the loose threads that I left all over Ingrid's posts (I still need to give her an bio ;-; I'm sorry y'all-)

So this is all over the place, since this is a fic I've been writing for a long time.

Also I know jackshit about robotics, and I think this fic shows how much I don't know anything XD

TW: Family issues related to: LGBTQ identity // very angsty // Ingrid is very rude, but she also struggles a lot during this- // socially distant // socially awkward // being misinterpreted/having a hard time socializing //

Tags: angy sad lady // ownership dynamic // this is basically the reader reminiscing about the past (continuing it from where Happy Lies left off) // the reader is low-key a simp at times- // master x servant dynamic, possessive behavior and a lot of yelling // just angsty really, I'm so sorry //

🍭꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍰꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖🍭

Happy birthday, mistress [Yandere!CEO OC x A.I!Reader - Short Fanfiction]

3,763 words

Whenever you remember your first day of activation, or more accurately your first day of actually being able to be activated for more than five seconds (you can't remember it fully, but you're aware that because of your complex design, you had passed through a lot of prototype phases before you could properly function-), you almost feel an odd sense of nostalgia, maybe due to the fact it was indeed the most important day of your existence as an android.

It was Ms.Bright's nineteenth birthday, when she would be handed the corporation that has been passed down by generations. And not only would she inherit the company, but also a beautifully designed a.i assistant made to help Ms.Bright's every need. You were made to be an easy communication center from Ms.Bright to the employees, as Ms.Bright's had a hard time communicating with people and expressing herself.

At first, she didn't seem to enjoy the idea very much- It was clear that she considered you to be quite annoying and useless. And- Well- It did hurt at first, after all, you were built to help her and be her friend no matter what.

So hearing her be mean towards you was… Very tough at first. Your first day as her assistant wasn't easy, you ended up getting in her way most of the time- And since she also didn't know exactly what she was doing, she got overwhelmed by so many things going down in one single day.

Ingrid has always dreamed of being in power of the company- Actually, now that you know her a little more- You can positively say she was probably just stressed at having to deal with so many responsibilities so suddenly, even if it has been her lifelong wish to inherit the company.

And even if it seems impossible at times, she would still come back strong and find a way to deal with it. That's something you really admire about her.

Your first week on the job was basically just trying to get accustomed and trying to learn everything you needed to do- While also trying to understand Ms.Bright as best as you could. Now… You weren't built to say this- And- And of course you don't think like this anymore, but…. You used to think she was really mean.

Frightening, even.

Now that you're all alone waiting for her to get back from work, you can't help but feel like replaying those moments inside your head.

"{... Replaying recorded conversation n°000050: "My second day at work"...}"

" Oh, what are you doing here?"

" Morning Ms.Bright! I-I was rechecking the files from yesterday and I was trying my best to reorganize them, a-after the incident-"

" The "incident" that you caused yesterday?"

" Well, yes, of course! I wanted to fix things up before you came back, I'm really sorry for being so reckless, I promise I won't do it again, I was just-"

"It 's fine. You don't need to worry about it."

" But… But I thought-"

" The files you had messed with weren't really all that important, and besides I'm sure there are copies all around the place. Sigh, who am I kidding- In reality, I should be the one apologizing for my behavior yesterday."

"...."

" I recognize that I shouldn't have treated you the way that I did, in a sense it's my fault you lost those files in the first place."

" … Well, it's nothing really mistress, I'm the one who should-"

" No, don't even finish it. You shouldn't have to apologize and shouldn't have spent the night wasting your battery on this-"

"...."

".... You know what, do whatever- I sometimes forget that you are… Nevermind, come back to my office as soon as you can."

"{... End of recorded conversation n°000.000.050… }"

You never knew what she was going to say, but you remember not being able to ask her that- As you were afraid of her potentially getting mad at you for asking too many questions. She always seemed so ruthless at times.

You remember the time you went to a family event with her, a family party, where an incident happened and she was absolutely livid. Your relationship with her wasn't so pretty at the time, you don't know why but- Your mistress didn't seem to trust you as much as you wish she did at the time.

"{... Replaying recorded conversation n°000.001.588: "First party ever- And it was very unpleasant" ...}"

" What's the matter with you?! Why can't you follow simple instructions- I told you to stay here and not mess around."

" I'm. So. Sorry. Mistress-"

" Even your vocal module is broken- Who told you to enter that pool in the first place?? You can't tell me you did something so stupid all on your own."

" I. Slipped.-"

" Am I a joke to you? I've said tell me who gave you the order to jump in the goddamn pool while everyone else was inside- Don't you dare start lying to me."

" … One of the. Party guests. Lost something. Inside the water. I tried helping them. But I started to. Malfunction."

" … Sigh, okay. Continue."

" It wasn't. Their fault. I did it. On my own. I was just- Trying. To help."

" By throwing yourself inside a pool when you're well aware of the damage the water can cause to your inner systems?!"

" I'm sorry!"

" You could have- No, you SHOULD have called someone else to help you, I can't believe it- You could have drowned in there and I wouldn't even be aware of that since I was inside the house, [Y/n]!"

" …. But Ms.Bright. I can't drown-"

" Yeah, yeah- I know you-... I know you can't drown."

" … Listen, you could have still gotten yourself hurt okay? You could have permanently damaged your systems, and if I wasn't made aware of what happened, I wouldn't have been able to take you out of the water in time, okay?"

"... Sigh, I just realized how much I have been yelling, everyone is probably scared now that I've made such a scandal. This… Isn't really a new thing to me, I'm accustomed to ruining parties like this. I'll have to apologise later to everyone. [Y/n], please just- When I ask you to stay still, please listen to me. I was worried about you."

"...."

"{... End of recorded conversation n°000.001.588 ...}"

You can't deny it- Whenever she was truly irritated she could make any person next to her feel threatened, though the more you look at your recordings, you feel like she doesn't really want to be feared like this. Respected? Absolutely. Feared? Not ideal, but she takes it anyway.

You have a couple of different recordings here and there, your memories are separated into sections. You have recordings of events in several formats: pictures, videos, texts and audio recordings. Though the one you use the most is audio recordings, since videos take a very big space inside your mind, and pictures need context, otherwise they wouldn't be considered memories, right?

You can't have many memories at a time because most of your mind is supposed to be used to store the company's files, so you do have a couple of memories that you have deleted to make space for the Bright Vision's more secret/personal documents. Since Ingrid took you home yesterday, and said you won't be going to work for the company anymore, then maybe you can find somewhere else to store those files so you can make space for new memories with Ms.Bright.

First, you'll need to recheck some of your own memories to see if they're worth holding onto. There is probably a lot of junk in there that you won't be needing anymore, which can be a bit tedious and take some time, but you clearly have enough time on your hands to do so, considering how she is not home and- Well, you're pretty bored, you already done everything that she asked you to do.

Honestly, she gave such small tasks today, she probably didn't plan to change your work environment so suddenly.

After about an hour of research through your data you have realized that even if you have way too many files, it's kinda hard to delete them. At first you didn't mind the idea of deleting certain stuff, but now it feels a bit sad to erase parts of your memory, you just had so many good times and- And even the bad times are worth remembering, right?

It has been an hour of you just standing there, trying your best to not delete anything important while also revising each recording you have. Most files are a bit out of order, numerically speaking, but you don't mind that too much cause- Well, you can always reorganize them later.

… You never actually do that, but you like to think that one day you will, though.

After so many recordings of conversations, you found one who didn't seem to really belong in your head. You see, you always title every single thing inside your personal archives so that it doesn't get mixed with other files- All of your memories have a specific title so that you can have an idea of which is which.

The thing is- You don't remember this file, the title seems off, and it seems like it's incomplete. Oddly broken. Still, you decided to take a listen and try to remember what happened in this event.

"{... Replaying recorded conversation n°000.068.xxx: "I yell too much" ...}"

"...."

This is a very silent audio, there seems to be some background noise happening, but you can't make out what's happening. This audio sounds distorted, edited maybe. Someone tried messing with your memories but they weren't able to completely erase this file.

Maybe they were inexperienced at the time.

"...."

You think you heard something, it sounded closer to you- It sounded like someone possibly sitting down next to you. You don't know who it is, or what it is

"...."

".... I'm such a mess. Why am I doing this? Why does this feels so-"

"...."

It seems like someone is speaking, but you're not speaking back. Even in this heavily edited audio, you can still make out what sounds to be a feminine voice.

".... I'm sorry for, well, using you this way. It feels- So, so weird."

"...."

".... I just want… No, I need to vent to you for a while, even if you won't remember what I'm going to say."

This audio gives you an odd sensation. You think you're starting to recognize who this is- But then again, who else could it be, if not Ms.Bright herself?

" I never did this before, with something so- Human like- With something so human looking. I used to record my thoughts on my phone but I thought I would never need to vent with an object before- But here I am! Making a fool of myself…"

"...."

The speaker, who you assume to be Ingrid, seems to be having a lot of trouble speaking, her voice is cracking and her breathing seems uneven. She sounds out of breath, and she takes a lot of pauses to be able to speak her mind.

"...."

".... I have…. Thought about opening myself in this way because- Because I have no one else to listen to it, and I guess I can only blame myself for it. I know I'm difficult, I know I'm rude and I know I come across as a tyrant to everyone else- I- I really don't know what 's wrong with me, okay?!"

" Years, and years, and years of training, of studying, of planning to become the very next owner of this corporation as it's already not only a job but also a very painful family tradition that I felt proud of! That I gave everything that I could to be part of! I remember wanting this so bad, I remember how I used to daydream about this stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid tradition when I was a little kid who just wanted to do more, to be more!"

".… I almost lost all of this. 19 years of my life that were threatened to be thrown in the trash just because I- Because I'm not his son??! Because I- I'm not his only "son" anymore??.... Who said I ever was- Who said I ever was his son…?"

".... I- I know all about the stupid, awful and extremely unnecessary tradition of passing the leadership from father to son, and to this very day- inside the same office all of my predecessors had went through- I still think that tradition is garbage. I always thought I wouldn't make it here, I always thought something would stop me from being the next face of Bright Vision."

".... I can't tell- If I always knew about this- I can't even imagine how I knew this considering the dumb kid that I was, but…"

".... I'm his daughter. I'm Mr.Bright's only daughter, and the only possible heir to this twisted company."

" The people outside think our only focus it's on robotics and technology of all kinds. I wish I could go back to thinking that too, it would have been so much simpler that way."

" After a very long fight about my rights as the heir to this- Company. My father thought it would be wise to move to the countryside. Far away from all of this. And to be fair, I was- So, so mad at him that I thought that him moving away from here and letting me be would be better, but every now and then I- I miss him. I miss him so much…."

"He sent me a birthday present today. After three years of absolute silence he sends me flowers and- And a gift card containing his number… And I- Called him despite everything, and even so to this day he can't even say my name- IT'S BEEN THREE YEARS AFTER HE LEFT ME ALL ALONE WITH THIS CURSED BUSINESS AND HE STILL CAN'T FUCKING. SAY. MY. NAME."

You felt scared at the sudden yelling, even if her voice was progressively getting more aggressive and louder, you still got caught up by the sudden yelling.

".... I'm- A mess- I know that now."

You can't understand what's going on, but it sounds like she started laughing… Or maybe crying? Probably both.

".... I'm just terrible at this. I always was, weren't I? I'm just terrible at these types of interactions- Maybe all of them! I just don't understand how to- How to do it?? I don't know anymore…."

".... That's why I have you, in the first place, isn't it?"

" I had such an awful time expressing myself that they gave me an overpriced doll to do it for me. When I first heard about this three years ago, I- I've felt so fucking pitiful."

" Can you imagine it? The CEO of such a big corporation is so difficult to deal with that she needs an overly glorified doll that can translate her words to the other employees! An a.i created just to help me, an absolute idiot!"

".... I've felt so angry at them- I felt so angry at him for having to build a robot just to be a comfort pet to the stressful work that I would have to do for the rest of my position as owner of Bright Vision Corp, and I was mad at you! You pissed me off to no end, and I- I just couldn't help but be frustrated at you, not for being in my way, but for being an reminder that I'm awful at this-"

"...."

Her sobs stopped her from continuing that sentence.

".... I've treated you so unfairly because of this. I- I made sure that whenever you looked at me you would feel terrified of me because that's the only way I thought I could be respected, that's the only way I thought you would listen to me, and yet you never did…. You weren't built to follow my every order perfectly, you were made to be literally my only friend, after 22 years, here you are- The only person that can get me isn't even an actual person-"

"..... And I forget this…! I forget this every time I look at your eyes, I forget how robotic you are whenever I see you helping others not because you were told to, but just because you thought you could."

"...."

".... I always forget that you're supposed to be just another robot… He really did think about everything when designing you."

".... I always catch myself being awful towards you, being- Being excessively rude, not because of my way of talking but because of my own petty feelings towards you as my assistant… As my friend, as my android, as my-"

"...."

"..... I'm so sorry for being like this, you don't deserve to have someone who is constantly being mean towards you be considered your boss- Your boss, your friend- ...Sigh, even your owner…"

" I'm sorry [Y/n], I'm really, really sorry- But it doesn't matter how many times I say that- I don't know if I can ever make it up to you. Words won't heal any wounds, they never did."

"...."

".... But maybe actions will."

"...."

" I'll stop being so harsh on you, you really don't deserve this- I was feeling weird about using your recording system to vent like this, but now that I think about it I have been using you as a venting mechanism since the day we met……. I'm- I'm so goddamn awful."

"...."

" "How can someone so in love be so cruel?".... Would you be able to answer me if you were conscious?.... I don't think you would, no one has been able to tell me the right answer yet."

".... I hope I can be better- I will be better."

"...."

" I just need to remember how to delete this file before you wake up- I hope I can do that. End recording."

"{... End of recorded conversation n°000.068.xxx …}

………….

It took you about an hour or so to be able to process what you have just listened to. And even then, you weren't able to fully comprehend what happened.

Ms.Bright- No, Ingrid- Ingrid has used your recording system while you were out, she probably tried deleting the file but because she was inexperienced with your kind of technology, she decided to just edit it and try to make it unlistenable.

It was- Barely audible but you still got to understand some of it.

Did she- Did she forget to completely erase it? Did she forget entirely??? You're not sure.

You don't know why but a sudden wave of- Something- Something feels so odd about this-

You don't know how to respond really. You don't feel mad about her ranting to you, you don't even feel bad about her ranting to you while you weren't aware- You feel bad, but not because of her but because of the emotional turmoil she has been hiding from you.

Should you do something? Should you say something?? How do you even- You don't know how respond to this-

You're programmed to comfort her, yet- This file is already old, and she didn't want you to remember this so maybe it won't be the best idea to bring it up, but what can you do??!

Maybe you just need to rethink this through, maybe you should listen to audio again, and try to figure out what's the best way to help her out when she comes back.

You're honestly baffled at the idea that someone like her had so much to confess to- You probably shouldn't have seen her as an unstoppable goddess in the first place, but then again- Even after hearing her open herself, even after listening to her insecurities- Your opinion of her hasn't changed.

She was holding this for so long, no wonder she always seems on edge.

She 's only human. Yet you never really saw her as just that.

She was always so much larger than you, so much stronger than what your fabricated body was, and she always sounded so much smarter and- And she was just always so… Terrifyingly beautiful to you.

Ingrid Bright was always considered a very good looking individual, but no one ever considered her to be much else because of her way of speaking to others (which may sound rude and occasionally condescending, causing others to avoid her as much as they could), but you always thought she was so much more than that-

It's hard to even explain it really, ever since you met you have started to understand the concept of how beauty and fear can mix together, you find her to be so beautiful, yet her demeanor and stature makes you feel afraid of her for some reason- And even worse than that, the fear she may unconsciously bring you makes her seem more beautiful in your eyes.

You shouldn't think of her as scary or frightening, she is your boss, your master and your owner, there is no reason for why you should feel this way towards her- But then again, there is no reason for you to even feel in the first place, you were just built to do so.

You don't think she means harm to anyone, after getting to know her you realize why her behavior can be misinterpreted as mean and scary- Ms.Bright always had a hard time socializing with others, even her family had a hard time understanding her, so maybe that's why she grew to have such a tough exterior.

As someone that was built to make the communication between CEO and employees easier, you've had to learn to understand her to be able to help others understand her as well, and vice versa. It wasn't easy, and you wouldn't say that you know her completely well- But you feel proud of the work you have done so far, you're her loyal companion but more importantly a friend.

Funny how much you learned not only about her, the employees, or even the business of the company- But also about humans in general in these five years of working for her, it makes you feel more whole when you remember how much you have achieved.

You hope you can somehow help her right now, and to help her from here on out. You decide to wait for her and possibly talk about how she feels and how she deals with said feelings. Hopefully all ends well.

🍭꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍰꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖🍭

Sorry for the loose ending! I was feeling very tired ;-; but if anyone wants it I could totally make a second chapter with a better ending.

🍭꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍰꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖🍭

#sheep's stuff #yandere oc #yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x female reader #yandere x reader fanfic #yandere fanfic #yandere oc x reader #yandere oc x reader fanfic #yandere ceo fanfiction #yandere ceo x reader #yandere ceo x robot reader #yandere ceo #special delivery request #special delivery fanfiction

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bitters-enthusiast · 4 years ago

Text

birthday fic but belated

@timmys-and-scribbles i love you and i am sorry in advance if this is long and cheesy but

1. that’s julian and

2. that’s just showbiz babey

happy belated birthday bestie i hope you enjoy

“No, you don’t understand! Please, I’ll-- I’ll beg on my knees if I have to!”

Julian could be seen, and probably heard, from a block away pleading a poor man operating a gondola on the canal, and it didn’t look much like the man was giving in to him either.

The man shook his head, planting his hands on his hips. “You-- you don’t have to get on your knees. But I still can’t do it, I’m sorry. It’s too short notice.”

The sob that came from the redhead next was anything but subtle, and he shoved his face in his hands. “Please. Please, sir, everyone else has cancelled on me. Don’t you want to be the minority?? Wouldn’t that be a more interesting story for you?? Please, I’ll pay double, I just need this ride tonight. It doesn’t have to be all night, even just an hour if I could--”

The gondola rower rolled his eyes. The dramatics were a bit much, but Julian had good selling points. “Fine! Fine, if it means you’ll leave me alone and I can get back to work, I’ll do it for double.”

Julian almost screamed in excitement, and grabbed the man by his shoulders. He gave him a little shake, beaming a smile from ear to ear. “Thank you! Thank you, you’ve saved me. Thank you. I’ll see you in a few hours!”

After having shaken this man nearly to death, Julian decided it was time to start grocery shopping. If he was going to plan the perfect dinner for his perfect partner in crime, he wanted to have the perfect ingredients. After all, a pirate couldn’t ask someone to court him if he didn’t at least offer food and drink. . . right?

He didn’t want to stress about it. This day was already a long time coming, but every time he thought he’d worked up the courage, he found it all lost again when Julianne teased him, or plotted with him another sneaky escapade. This woman definitely, without realizing, always kept him on his toes. And he wanted to return the favor, at least for tonight. Besides, a fun date never hurt anybody, even if he didn’t wind up asking her to be his girlfriend.

The doctor spent about an hour or so shopping around for a dinner worth remembering. It took some time thinking of recipes he knew from the top of his head, but he settled on something fond from his childhood. Something Mazelinka almost always made, and almost everyone always liked it: soup. You couldn’t go wrong with a perfect soup dish paired with bread. Plus, looking for fresh ingredients and bartering with the merchants kept his mind off of the pent up anxiety he was feeling about everything. At least a dinner he was making by himself couldn’t be cancelled last minute.

He’d finally settled on everything he needed, and was beginning to head back to the ship. He was carelessly swinging his bags back and forth, whistling a merry little tune to keep him in high spirits.

The high spirits lasted all of five minutes to keep his mind off his worries.

Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted Julianne, speaking to a familiar baker about eating some lunch. She was ordering some food when she caught him out of the corner of her eye, and excitedly called him over.

Oh no. Oh no, oh no, oh no.

She wouldn’t notice the bags, right? Of course she’d notice the bags. But he could just pass it off as stuff for the crew! Or maybe he could just pretend as if he didn’t see her--

Of course he couldn’t do that.

Awkwardly, he put his arms behind his back, the bags hanging over them. He gave a strange smile and headed toward Juli, giving a head nod of acknowledgement.

“Heyyyyyyyy... how are, uh-- whatcha up to?”

The woman raised a brow, a smile on her lips as she had just finished joking with the baker. “I’m........ ordering food. Why are you being weird?”

Uh oh.

Julian gave a dismissive ‘psh”, his face turning into an expression of confusion. “I’m not being weird. You’re weird for asking that, Juli. Anyway, what’s on the menu? What’s, uh, what’s for lunch?”

Julianne immediately knew something was up, but she wouldn’t press him about it until later. For now, she’d give him a bit of a hard time about it to see if he’d spill. “Food. Looks like,” she leaned over a bit, just a small part of his groceries in view, “you also have food on the menu.”

He leaned the opposite way, trying to make the bags less noticeable from her angle. “Oh. Oh! These, right. Yeah, Cap sent me out for errands today. You know those men, uh, always hungry! Yeah, can’t go forever without snacking, even if there’s only four of them on ship!”

A small laugh came from Juli. Yeah, she’d have to find out later. “Right. Well, I have to go eat before I go back to my own errands. Would you like to join?”

Why’d she have to be so sweet?? It made him all the more nervous, and he wasn’t being a very convincing actor at the moment. “Oh, I wish I could, darling! But Cap has been on my ass this morning about staying on task! We all know how, um, fleeting time is! I’ve gotta go, don’t worry about me, I’ll see you later on board, right?”

Her eyebrow still raised, she adjusted her own bag and nodded. “Ri--”

“Okay! Perfect! Amazing, and even perfect, you could say. Oh. Wait, I said perfect twice. Anyway, farewell! See you tonight.”

Juli watched as Julian walked away backward, still trying to hide his groceries. As he finally got further away, he tried turning away quickly to take off running, but accidentally bumped into a busy woman passing by. He apologized promptly and profusely, making sure she was at least okay before taking off again.

Yeah, he was up to something.

It finally had gotten darker outside, the sun setting as Julian strode back toward the boat. After a few hours, he had prepared dinner, finalized the gondola plans, and had even set up an nice surprise afterward to make sure everything was picture perfect. As if he hadn’t used the word ‘perfect’ to describe what he was going for all day. With his hands in his pockets, he’d finally settled down on his way back toward the ship, fairly confident in how the night would go.. at least for now.

As he got closer to his familiar home of sorts, excited to meet Julianne and to get the night started after all this planning he’d done, Julian stops aboard the ramp of the ship, watching as Juli was mid-conversation with his crewmate and co-captain, Gerard.

Damn it. Here we go.

Forcing a smile, he stepped closer to hear their conversation.

A hearty laugh came from the crewmate, one that sounded incredibly devious to Julian’s desperate ears. “He really lied to your face like that, Miss Juli? Ah, you know I’d never treat you that way~”

Shut up. Shut up, Gerry. Not tonight.

Julianne would have been seen to smirk, rolling her eyes. “It’s not that he lied maliciously. I’ll still get him back for lying. But I know he’s doing something behind my back. I’m just confused as to what it is.”

Gerard leaned back against the rail of the ship, giving a nonchalant shrug. “Still. You know, it’s taken him far too long to commit to you. Maybe it’s time you give the ol’ captain a try. I,” a puff of his chest, and he placed his hand upon his heart, “wouldn’t have made you wait this long for me to meet up after lying to you, maiden.”

It was taking everything in Julian to not barge into their conversation immediately. The confidence he’d built on the way back was slowly diminishing, but he’d wait a few more seconds to see where this conversation went.

“Co-captain, Gerard.” Julianne shook her head in amusement, also taking a seat on a nearby barrel. Might as well make herself comfortable as she waited. “How would Zora feel if she heard you giving yourself all the credit?”

“Hopefully very, very awfully.” Gerard chuckled as he ran his fingers through his hair. “But my point remains. See how he still isn’t here? That just proves my--”

If Julian wasn’t known for dramatic entrances, then the sky wasn’t known to be blue. As if on cue, interrupting Gerard as he tried to make his “point” was easy as pie for Julian, and he climbed aboard with the biggest, most confident grin he could muster to save face. “Julianne, my love!” He greeted as if she were the biggest and most important guest he could ever serve, stepping between the two to swoop her into a hug. “I’m terribly sorry it took me so long to get back! I got caught in a scuffle between two men arguing, and you know I can’t resist a good fight.” The last lines were said between almost-gritted teeth, and Julianne pulled away from his hug reluctantly.

Like her expression was before at the marketplace, she had her eyebrow raised in suspicion. “Is that so? They didn’t happen to also be the ones to eat your snacks, were they?”

Gerard chuckled from behind, making himself comfortable both physically and in conversation. “I’d say Ilyushka has a bit of a hole to dig himself out of here, hmm?”

Begrudgingly, Julian turned to look at Gerard with the same forced smile.

“Don’t you have a hole to dig yourself into, co-captain? Go find some buried treasure.”

A laugh from the man, as well as a clever reply, “Ah, but why would I go search for one when there’s one perfectly right before my eyes?” He flashed a smile in Julianne’s direction, and then gave an innocent, seemingly curious head tilt to Julian. “Oh, unless you couldn’t see that for yourself. It seems that eyepatch gets in the way of you looking past yourself and seeing what’s in front of you.”

The smirk began to fall from the redhead’s face, and he tried not to ball up a fist onto his friend right about now. In the end, he knew Gerry was teasing, but it didn’t make the blow less hard on his ego.

Julianne wasn’t naive to the tension; she started to make off-topic conversation. “I think Gerard is talking about the wine that Zora brought back after making a deal with the bartender down the street. Something about bringing back some of that Salty Bitters stuff from Vesuvia that you like so much. He wanted to advertise something new.”

“Right. The wine is the treasure I was talking about.” A final chuckle from Gerard and he stood, clapping a hand against Julian’s shoulder. “Save me some dessert, Ilya. You know where my room is. Send her my way.”

“Bye, Gerry. Have a good night.” Julian pulled away slightly, looking his friend up and down.

Gerard gave a hum of triumph, and pulled his hand away. On his way toward the steps downstairs, he gave a final “You know I will.” in reply.

Once he was finally out of view, Julian deemed it safe to turn back to Juli for conversation. “I am.... so, so sorry, Juli. I know you’ve been waiting for a while.”

“I know you heard the conversation with Gerard.” She replied, placing her hands upon his shoulders. “I’ve been here for a whole of ten minutes. You know how he is. Dramatic.”

He gave a soft scoff in return, rolling his eyes. “More than I am sometimes.”

With a laugh, Julianne pulled her hands away, but not before giving him a gentle pat to the face. “Not quite.” Getting up from the seat she’d made herself, she patted down the dirt that’d gotten on her dress from doing so. “Anyway, are you finally done acting weird, or are you going to keep me on my toes.”

“Well.......” Julian gave a shrug, “Hopefully the latter. But not in a bad way, I swear. I do.”

The woman only gave him a pointed glare in response. In defense, he gently took hold of her hand, and began to lead her off the ship.

“Here. Just follow me.”

The doctor had finally gotten Juli all to himself. After all the shenanigans of the day, he could finally wind down and listen to her talk about her day. Her errands, odd customers, the odds and ends of magic that he enjoyed listening to her go on and on about. It was what gave him some sense of normalcy among the absurdity that he endured on the regular. The gondola ride had gone smoothly, and he had definitely given the rower far more than he was worth. If not just for the theatrics and the experience, he hoped that Juli enjoyed it. Maybe she’d grown suspicious of him throughout the day, but he wanted to make it up to her.

They talked about a woman who’d called Julianne in to help cleanse her home, not knowing the “cleanse” wasn’t anything spiritual -- it was because the woman had attempted far too many cleaning spells and caused an overgrowth in weeds in her garden and magic cobwebs in her corners. Julianne had to explain that “cleansing” a house didn’t actually mean to clean it.

How cute. How cute, how cute.

An hour or so had gone by, and after their ride, they both thanked the rower tremendously. They’d even gotten a complimentary bottle of wine and a basket of fruit -- or maybe the rower was being kind since Julian had paid him so handsomely.

Then, he took Julianne back toward the shore.

He had taken hold of her hand and not let go, leading her down the beach close to the docks their ship had stopped on. He was sure she probably thought something odd was going to happen by the end of the night, but he wanted to make sure she enjoyed her time nonetheless.

As they walked, he made soft conversation.

“You know, the ocean is a view I could never get sick of. It’s so beautiful. And when the moonlight hits it just right--” he gave a chef’s kiss of sorts with his free hand.

“I guess that’s a good thing, considering you’re on a ship the majority of your time.” Juli teased, giving him a gentle nudge. “But I think so too. It’s very captivating. Calming, even.”

“Like you, hmm?” Turning his gaze from the ocean to Juli, he gave a wink.

With a fond roll of her eyes, she laughed a little. “You’re still being weird.”

“What? No. This is just regular ol’ Ilya.”

“Yeah. Weird.”

He grinned in turn, a grin full of absolute adoration. It was getting easier to rebuild that confidence from earlier.

They continued their playful banter, all the way up until hey reached a hidden little cove, a tucked away cave of sorts, with a light shining from within. They were far away enough now that the lamps in town seemed like blur now, and Julian preferred it that way for what he had been planning.

Julianne stopped, looking up at her partner with a confused expression. “What’s this?”

He let go of her hand, make sure he didn’t seem as if he were coming off maliciously. They had met, after all, under the guise that he was a murderer on the run. Julian offered one of his grins, the sweet kind, the kind that made you want to follow him into the unknown on an adventure you wouldn’t want to return from.

“Just dinner. You trust me, right? You don’t still think I’m a weirdo?”

“Well. I definitely do.”

A laugh came from Julian, and he just shook his head. He continued forward into the cave, giving her a nod to follow.

She did, and as they entered, a small table Julian had stolen off the ship was sitting in the middle of the cave, lit candles surrounding it in the sand below to keep light inside. On the table sat dinner: two bowls covered to stay warm, bread on either side of them, a great big glass of wine in the center of the table, and two glasses for one each.

With a great big swoop of his arm, he gestured toward the set up with a smile.

“Well, here’s the thing I was acting strange about. I just wanted... to set up something nice for the both of us.”

After her jaw had dropped at the initial shock, Juli turned to the man with a growing smile, and she genuinely looked impressed. “I’m surprised you could keep a secret this long.” Although she teased, she found his dinner setup rather charming. Nothing short of the extravagance he made for himself since the day she met him.

He continued forward once more, pulling one of the chairs out for her to sit. Once she was seated, he also took a seat, and began to pour them each a glass of wine to drink.

“Also, I stole this wine. This is the one Zora brought back, and Gerard is probably looking for now. Serves him right trying to steal my thunder.”

The woman laughs, reaching for her glass once it’s filled. “They’re going to kill you.”

He shrugged yet again, his signature smirk puling at his lips. “Worth it, if not just for the thrill of the escape.”

As Julian reached to uncover the bowls, a warm, earthy and flavorful aroma takes over the cave, and he explains his escapade to gather ingredients. Making the food proved to be a pain, having to bribe the ship’s cook to let him take over the kitchen to prepare their food, and to help him set everything up while he was out on the gondola ride with Julianne. He talked about how he now owed the cook kitchen duty for a week, and had to scrub the inside of the old hearth to make up for it. But it was worth it for him, to see how much she enjoyed his childhood favorite food. All the more memories to create, even if it was just soup.

Throughout dinner, it seemed as though Julian had about finished off the bottle of wine by himself. He was getting a little tipsy, and a bit more nervous toward the end of them eating. If only he had more liquid courage to help him out.

Julianne noticed how awkward he’d begun to get as dinner went on. When they finally cleared their bowls, he started going on about the importance of the correct shoes in acting. Something was up.

She reached for his hands, which were getting ready to pour the last few drops of alcohol into his glass.

“Ilya, tell me what’s the matter.” Her voice was soft compared to his big, velvety tone. He couldn’t help himself, not in this state of mind.

“I- no, nothing’s the matter! I’m just saying, how can you frolic about in a tunic and boots? Sure they look great for the aesthetic and for the costume, but you need the smaller and more rounded shoes to move around the stage more fleetly.”

“You’re talking about shoes, Julian, after we just had a nice dinner in a fancy set up in a remote cave.” She laughed a little at the situation, and gave his hands a little squeeze. “Tell me what’s on your mind.”

She was right. And he knew that she was. He hadn’t spent all day preparing for this moment to talk about how quick your movements need to be on stage. He had put all of this off long enough. Hell, for months. He was surprised she’d even stuck around that long, unless she thought this was all totally platonic.

“Yeah. Yes. Yes, there-- there is something I have on my mind.” He let out a slow sigh, mentally preparing himself for his little speech. He knew that she would listen to every word, even if he slurred and stuttered his way through it. Her touch gave him a bit of sobering up, and in turn, he moved his hands to grab hers instead, leaning in closer to her presence.

“I.. hm. I’ve known you for quite a while now. And, for some reason, it feels like I’ve known you far longer than the several months we’ve been adventuring together. I don’t even know if that’s what you’d call it-- never mind. Regardless, darling, it feels like I’ve known you longer than a lifetime. Like I’ve known you since a life too distant to remember. And you... Julianne, you just seem so familiar. You met me thinking that I was a murderer. A fugitive. And even then, even after you thought I was using you, you stuck. You stuck with me. Up until then, I struggled so hard to find something like home. You gave me a chance, and I can tell you haven’t regretted it thus far. I just... don’t ever want to have to just remember you again. I want you to stick around. You’re perfect to be around. My perfect adventuring find. My... my perfect partner. We’ve never made any official call for what this is, and... I know this is all so ridiculous and grandiose and seems like some sort of proposal. In... in a way, it is. I just--” he lets his head fall, and he takes a pause, before he looked back up into Julianne’s face. “Please, little dove, would you give a pirate a chance and just call yourself mine already?”

...

Julianne, flustered, and unsure of how to respond in the immediate moment, searched Julian’s eyes for his genuine feelings. It was a long search -- after all, he’d just poured his onto the table, practically. This wasn’t at all a surprise, they had in fact been in some rut of infatuation without ever having admitted it to one another. It was always just implied. But here they were now, Julian basking in all of his monologuing glory...

Before she could respond, he was quick to make a joke, giving her hands a squeeze as she did his before he had come clean. “Plus, now I’m less likely to get in trouble for starting a fight with Gerard, seeing as how we’d be an official couple rather than just flirting, fleeting friends.”

Julianne shook her head, letting it fall as she let out a laugh. “You... are quite simply the most unbearable person I’ve ever met. In the best way possible.” Looking back up, he simply gave a friendly and teasing shrug in response, and she leaned in to seal the space between them with a kiss.

It wasn’t long before it grew passionate, one full of longing and hope from both of them. It would be hard for Julian to pull away, had he not been wait for a response. Before he let the kiss get carried away, he pulled back, a hand pressed to Juli’s face.

“So?”

She looked him in the eyes, lifted a hand toward his face, and promptly gave him a flick to the nose.

“Ow!?” His brow furrowed, “What was that for??”

“For lying to my face earlier. I just needed you to know I didn’t forget.”

A huffy laugh came from the redhead as he reached to rub at his nose, now stinging slightly in pain. “Alright. Noted.”

She offered a final, soft smile, reaching to gently swipe her thumb over his nose in comfort. The woman then reached in for a soft peck. “I’ll be your girlfriend, Ilya. Or rather, your co-captain.”

Julian beamed taking her face into both of his hands. “Oh, I’m so glad. As co-captain, can your first duty be to teach me an adjective other than ‘perfect’? I’m a doctor, not a novelist.”

“Sure. But only if you teach me one rather than ‘weird’,” Juli offered in reply.

“Good, good. But uh, can we wait until after dessert?”

“Didn’t Gerard ask you to save him some?”

“Oh, no. Gerry can starve. I’m sneaking dessert back into my room.”

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thegreatestofheck · 4 years ago

Text

breathe again |Derek Morgan|

word count - 5850 warnings - mentions of blood, kidnapping, physical assault, panic attacks, death, ptsd, and it’s unedited pairings - derek morgan x fem!reader (3rd persion) synopsis - he saved her life and now she has to deal with the aftermath. he’s there to help her every step of the way. a/n - so i’ve been MIA. college was kicking my booty hind, I was lacking any and all inspiration, and i’ve just been mentally not well. This week was kinda horrible in that my abuser died on sunday, my birthday was on tuesday (not my favorite day of the year), and I spent 16 hours in the car with my family so I am mentally and emotionally exhausted. this fic is mostly for me, just a healing fic revolving around one my my favorite men. if no one reads it, that’s gucci. be on the look out for a reid one too because your girl is sad. thank you all for being so patient with me. and i’m so sorry to everyone i’ve disappointed while i’ve been away. hopefully i’ll have some routledge!readers out soon.

______

A quiet whimper came from her mouth, but her eyes remained shut.

When Agent Spencer Reid opened the door, his gun out and cocked, he shouldn’t have been so shocked as he was. He had seen the other girls, how they had been cut up before they were killed, how there wasn’t a place on their body that hadn’t been slashed. But something about seeing the woman strapped to the table, bleeding from almost every inch of her body, made a shiver go up his spine.

At the sound of the door opening, her weary eyes opened. She thought it was him, but she was surprised to see the agent standing there all the same. For a few seconds, she thought she was imagining it. She had been seeing people for days, but she could always blink them away. When she closed her eyes and opened them again, he was still standing there. Maybe the blood loss was finally getting to her.

She closed her eyes again and turned her head to the side, refusing to get her hopes up again. He wasn’t real, he wasn’t there.

She was going to die.

Spencer Reid shook away the shock that held him in place. Stepping into the room, he holstered his gun and walked toward the woman.

“Morgan,” he said into his walkie talkie. “Morgan, I found her. Back room.”

“Good job, kid.”

At the sound of his voice, the woman opened her eyes up again, blinking slowly. He reached her, immediately fiddling with the straps that kept her tied to the bed.

“Are you real?” She asked, her voice broken and quiet.

“My name is Spencer Reid,” he said. His voice was kindly and warm, but worried. “I’m going to get you out of here.”

She nodded her head slowly. She let out a gasp of relief when the first of the straps released her. Spencer ran around to the other side and started to work on the other strap. As soon as her other wrist was freed, she brought both hands up to her chest. Wearing nothing but her undergarments was one thing in front of a deranged serial killer. It was another thing completely in front of a Federal Agent.

Spencer started to work on the straps on her ankles, but before he could unlatch her, the man who had taken her appeared behind him and smacked him across the head with a pipe.

The woman felt fear run through her veins, not even able to cry out as the agent crumpled to the side. Now the man stood above her, seething like a rabid dog.

“You are never getting out of here,” he said.

He plucked a knife up off of the table beside her. The woman refused to close her eyes. If he was going to kill her, he was going to be haunted by her eyes for the rest of his damned life. He lifted the knife into the air and the woman didn’t flinch. Before he could bring down the knife to kill her, someone ran into him from the side, knocking him off of his feet.

The woman couldn’t see who it was who tackled him, but at the moment it didn’t matter. All that mattered was getting out of the straps. Her hands were shaking, but she did what she could. She could hear the two men fighting, things breaking, grunts of pain. All she could do was get herself unstrapped.

Once both of her ankles were free, the woman rolled off of the table, landing painfully on the ground. The cuts across her body pulled, blood running down her skin. She crawled over to Agent Reid, who was out cold on the ground. Clutching a pulsing arm to her chest, the woman grabbed hold of Reid’s arm and tried to pull him out of the way of the fight. She lay his head in her lap, placing her blood hands on the sides of his face.

“Wake up,” she whispered. “Please don’t be dead.”

The agent let out a quiet groan, letting her know that he was at least alive. Her kidnapper had managed to pin the other agent to the ground, picking up the knife from the ground.

“No,” the woman breathed.

She slid herself out from underneath Spencer, wincing against the pain of her stretching cuts. She plucked up the pipe of the ground and swung at his head with every ounce of strength that she had in her body. She heard the crack of his skull and he fell to the side. The agent on the ground breathed heavily, staring up at her. There was a cut on his cheek, but he didn’t seem to care much about it.

The woman let the pipe fall from her hand, all the strength that adrenaline had given her fading. Her knees gave out underneath her and she started to fall. Luckily, the agent was fast. He sat up and caught her before she hit the ground. Her body began to shake, maybe from the pain, maybe from the cold, maybe from the weakness in her limbs.

“You’re okay,” he said. “It’s over.”

“It’s over?”

“Yeah. You’re safe.” She noted how kind his smile was. “What’s your name?”

“Y/N.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Y/N. My name is Derek Morgan and I’m going to keep you safe.”

Y/N nodded her head as her eyes began to flutter shut. She could hear him call out quietly for Spencer and that was it before she was consumed by unconsciousness.

****

Y/N sat in her apartment, consumed by the darkness around her. Her hands shook as she wiped away tears that fell from her eyes. It was just one of those days when all she could remember was the face of the man who had carved into her like she was a slab of meat, when she looked at her body, all she could see was the puckered scars that covered her skin. These were the days when she would pick up her phone and call Morgan, though she tried to avoid it. He had given her his number after she left the hospital for a reason, but she knew that his job was taxing, that she couldn’t just pour all of her problems onto him.

But tonight she just needed to hear his voice, just to have him remind her that she’s okay, that she’s safe and alive and still human.

She picked up her phone, searching through her contacts through blurry eyes. A few tears dropped from her eyelashes as she held the phone to her ear. It rang only twice before she hung up and threw her phone to the other side of the couch. She was a burden to him, she just knew it. And therapy wasn’t helping, it just made her feel like a helpless victim who was forever going to be stuck where she was.

She curled her legs up to her chest, tucking her face between her knees. She tried to stop the sobs from shaking through her body, but the more she tried to stop them from coming, the faster and harder they came.

Her phone started buzzing, making her lift up her head. Y/N wiped away a few tears, crawling across the couch toward her phone. She picked it up, sniffling. Morgan was calling her back. She let out a sigh before pressing the green answer button and putting the phone to her ear.

“Hi,” she said, clutching a pillow to her chest.

“Hey, Y/N.”

“Hi.”

“How are you doing?” He asked, knowing full well that the answer would be ‘not good’.

“I’m doing fine,” she lied, gnawing on her fingernail.

“Y/N, talk to me.”

“I don’t want to bother you,” she said, her voice going quiet. “You’ve got all your own things to deal with and I-”

“The team and I are going out to eat. Come with us.”

“Did you just come back from a case?” She asked.

This was why she didn’t want to call. He had so much on his plate, who was she to add all of her problems too.

“We did and now we’re going to celebrate. But I want you to come out with us.”

“Derek, I….I can’t. It’s time with your friends.”

“I’ll pick you up in thirty. It’ll be good for you and I promise you, you won’t be bothering anybody. They all want to know how you’re doing anyway.”

Y/N breathed in deeply through her nose before nodding, even though he couldn’t see.

“I’ll be ready.”

“Good. And turn your lights on. The dark will just make you more sad.”

She smiled. For as little as the two of them spoke since he and Reid saved her life, he seemed to know her better than anyone she had ever known.

“Will do.”

“I’ll see you in a bit.”

“See you.”

She hung up, setting her phone face down on the couch. She stayed where she was for a few moments, giving herself time to breathe. Once her tears had dried, Y/N pushed herself off the couch and made for her room.

****

“How was your case?” Y/N asked as she and Morgan walked down the street toward the pub.

“It went better than most,” he said, shoving his hands in his pockets to protect them against the cold wind. “Saved a few lives.”

“That’s good.” She smiled down at her feet.

“How are you doing?”

She breathed out heavily, her frosty breath billowing out in front of her.

“I’m good.” He raised an eyebrow at her. “Seriously! Today was good. I started teaching the kids their choreography for the spring show and it seems like they like it.”

“I’m glad to hear it.”

There was a moment of silence as Morgan waited for her to finish.

“But,” she carried on, like she knew he wanted her to. “I went on a date earlier today. It didn’t go well. You know how it is.”

“I know.” He was quiet again for a few moments. “Tell me about your class. How are the kids?”

“We don’t have to talk about me the whole time,” she told him, her cheeks burning ever so slightly.

“I want to. Makes me feel better.”

Y/N smiled and tried to hide her blush in her scarf. But she started talking anyway. Morgan listened, as he always did. He asked a few questions here and there to keep her talking and laughed when she said something funny. As she walked beside him, Y/N realized that maybe having her talk about her normal day wasn’t really to help her, but because it helped him.

When they made it to the pub, she slowed to a stop. Morgan didn’t realize she stopped for a few paces, but once he noticed her absence, he turned around to look at her. She was looking up at the name of the pub, the lights reflecting in her eyes. He walked back toward her and put a gentle hand against her elbow.

“Don’t worry about them,” he said. “They’ll love you.”

She tore her gaze away from the sign and met his dark eyes, feeling her heart pound within her chest.

“You think so?”

“I know so.”

She smiled again, feeling a burst of confidence. She nodded her head and took a step toward the front door. Morgan smiled as he followed in after her. It wasn’t that hard to find Morgan’s team, sitting around a table together and laughing. Fear struck at her again. She hadn’t been out much in the months since she had come back from the trial. She didn’t really hang with very many people before she’d been taken anyway.

She didn’t have much of a chance to hesitate before Penelope Garcia, the computer whiz who had been the first one to make her laugh after she’d been saved.

“Y/N!” she cried, lifting her glass of wine into the air.

The others promptly turned around, calling out in each their own way.

“Hi,” she said to them as she walked over, Morgan right behind her.

She could feel one of his arms brush against her shoulder and it gave her enough strength to smile.

“How are you?” Emily asked as Y/N slid into a chair next to her.

“Good!” she replied, feeling her grin become something more real. “It’s been a long few weeks, but things are going well.”

“Your apartment treating you nicely?” Rossi took a sip of red wine from his glass.

“I love it,” she told him. “I don’t think I could ever thank you enough for helping me pay for it.”

There was a glint in Rossi’s eye that told her she never had to say thank you again. Morgan slid into the seat next to her, draping his arm over her chair. Him being so close gave her a little bit of strength.

The night carried on with drinks and food and laughter. Even Aaron Hotchner, who had intimidated Y/N all the way through her trial, was smiling along with the rest of them. Y/N couldn’t bring herself to look at Spencer, for whatever reason. Every time she saw him, all she could see was the bloody hand prints she left on his face that stained his skin for days. Emily and Penelope and JJ made Y/N feel like she had been friends with them for as long as they had been friends with each other.

Things were going well until she made direct eye contact with Spencer. Her heart jumped up into her throat and she felt suddenly like she couldn’t breathe. She mumbled something about going to the bathroom before shimmying past Morgan and making a break for the restroom.

She burst into the bathroom already breathing heavily, tears stinging in her eyes. She closed them and saw the blood all over again, felt the tearing of her skin, the sting of the blade. Bile rose in her throat and she gagged, slapping a hand over her mouth to keep from vomiting in the sink. Her head swam and her nose stung and her knees felt weak.

There was a knock at the bathroom door and Y/N looked up, eyes still swimming with tears. She expected it to be one of the girls walking in to check on her, but when she opened her door, she found herself face to face with Spencer Reid.

“Oh, hey, Spencer,” she said, furiously wiping away the tears with the back of her long sleeve.

“Y/N,” he replied. “Morgan told me to find you.”

“Did he?” She asked, her jaw clenched.

“You wouldn’t look at me and when you did, you ran away. I may not understand a lot of social cues, but I think that means I did something wrong.”

She shook her head quickly, still not able to meet his eyes.

“No, you didn’t do anything. It’s just me.” Spencer was silent, as if waiting for her to elaborate. With a heavy sigh, she finally looked up at his face. “It’s my fault you got that concussion, Spencer. He wouldn’t have targeted you if you hadn’t been trying to save me. And I look at you and I see my blood on your face and it just….”

“Post traumatic stress is common in victims of attempted murder, especially in a case so bad as yours,” he said. “Hallucinations, nightmares, trouble breathing, all of that is common signs of PTSD so what you’re experiencing isn’t just you.”

Y/N let her eyes flutter shut as she clamped down another vicious round of nausea.

“But that’s not helpful,” Spencer said after clearing his throat. “It’s not your fault, what happened to me or what happened to you.”

“It just feels like every second that I’m still affected by what he did, he wins. That it proves I’m not strong enough,” she told him.

She wasn’t really sure why she felt like she could talk to him so openly.

“Well, I can’t convince your brain of anything but I can tell you that I’ve saved a lot of people and most of them would have seen that open door and ran. But you stayed. You were bleeding out and you stayed to help me and Morgan. You probably saved both of our lives. That sounds like strength to me.”

She blinked a few times, taken back by his words. She hadn’t even considered it. When she had gotten out of the restraints, she had seen the open door, but it had never occurred to her to run away. She scowled, glancing down at his feet.

“I’ll leave you to your, uh, bathroom.”

With that, Spencer left the doorway, walking back toward the others. Y/N let the bathroom door close, standing in front of the sink to stare at her reflection in the mirror. For so long, she had only seen the weakness in what she had done. She thought about how often she cried, how loud she screamed, how she had begged. She had convinced herself a strong person wouldn’t have done that. A strong person would have fought back, made his life as much hell as he made hers. A strong person wouldn’t have cried on the stand, wouldn’t have panic attacks every time something mildly inconvenient happened.

But maybe she had been wrong. Maybe her strength had nothing to do with what she did in the moment, but in the surviving afterward. Every second that she breathed free air was a victory, every second that she lived longer than the man who had hurt her was a sign of strength and not weakness, no matter how ugly those seconds were.

Breathing in deeply, Y/N left her place at the sink and abandoned the bathroom to rejoin her friends. Morgan greeted her with a smile as she returned, but the others carried on their conversation as she took her seat.

She spent the rest of the night smiling. She could look at Spencer and maybe she still saw the blood stains, but she could look past them and see the man underneath, the man who had saved her life. And Morgan kept his arm behind her back, just close enough that she knew that he was there.

He walked her back to her apartment that night once everyone else had left.

“You talk to Reid?”

Y/N could tell that this was a question that Morgan had been waiting to ask since she came back from the bathroom.

“I did,” she said, watching the sidewalk beneath her feet.

“And?”

“And it was good. He’s a good kid.”

“Yeah, he is.”

They were quiet again. He could tell by her change in demeanor alone that the short conversation with Spencer had done a lot for her.

“You want to tell me about that date you went on?” He asked.

She was startled by his question, not because it was beyond him to ask, but because she had forgotten about the date altogether.

“Oh, um….” She scowled, trying to recall. “There was nothing wrong with the guy...I actually never met him. I got stuck getting dressed. We were going out to dinner and then we were going to see an opera, so I wanted to look nice, but I couldn’t find a single formal dress that would cover up all of my scars and I cancelled on him. I didn’t want him to see all the ugly, I guess.”

Morgan let out a sigh, but she knew that it wasn’t a sound of disappointment. She glanced up at him and saw that he was thinking, his jaw tightening and relaxing. He didn’t say anything else as he walked her back to her apartment building, all the way up the stairs and to her front door.

“Thank you for walking me back,” she said, unlocking her door and dropping the key into her pocket.

“I think he would have loved to meet you,” Morgan said, looking down at his feet, hands shoved into his jacket pockets.

“What?”

“Your date tonight. I think he would have loved to meet you, no matter what you wore.”

“Derek-”

“You’re beautiful, Y/N.”

She froze, her breath stopping in her throat. After spending hours every morning staring at her closet and the mirror, hoping to find something that would cover every single scar on her body, which was impossible. Morgan lifted a hand from his pocket and brushed his thumb over the scar that ran along her jaw, the one she was never able to cover. Y/N’s eyes closed at his touch, the heat from his hand spread warmth throughout her chilled body. He rested his hand against her cheek.

They both knew that he should have taken his hand back, shoved it back into his pocket, and walked away. But he didn’t. Instead, he leaned down toward her. Her heart skipped a beat as his lips grazed against hers. She wanted to open her eyes, to make sure that she wasn’t imagining it. But even if the kiss was all in her mind, she didn’t want to know it.

When he pulled back, Y/N kept her eyes closed for a few seconds, trying to hold on to the barest hint of warmth that he left her with.

She opened her eyes finally only to see that he wasn’t looking at her, his eyes fixed on the ground again. She thought that he was ashamed of kissing her or maybe she didn’t live up to what he had thought. Still, she wanted to kiss him again, if he would let her. He slid his hand from her cheek and let it fall back to his side.

“Do you...want to come inside?” she asked.

It wasn’t until he looked at her that she realized why he had refused to meet her gaze. It wasn’t shame or regret, but something deeper, something that he had been trying to fight since he first got to know her.

She didn’t need to ask him again because his answer was already there in the deepness of his eyes. He leaned forward and kissed her again, not as timid as before and with more force. He brought his hands up to her face again, his palms against her jaw. His momentum sent her backward into the door and a quiet gasp came from her.

She searched for the doorknob with her hand, but her mind was elsewhere. With Morgan’s lips against hers, that was all she could think about. She finally got the doorknob twisted as Morgan pulled the scarf from around her neck. They collapsed into the dark apartment, one of his hands now on her waist and her fist curled around the collar of his shirt.

With the door shut, Morgan pulled off his coat and discarded it onto the ground. Y/N followed suit. He reached out for her and took her by the waist as if any second apart from her was a second wasted, as if he couldn’t stand not touching her. Y/N wrapped her arms around his neck just as desperately.

Morgan hoisted her upward just as they reached the back wall and she wrapped her legs around his waist. He kept her pinned against the wall so even when he pulled away from the kiss she wouldn’t fall.

“Is this okay?” He asked her.

“God, yes,” she breathed, almost embarrassed by how relieved she sounded.

A smile stretched across Morgan’s face as his hands found the bottom of her shirt, pulling it off over her head. Y/N’s first instinct was to cover herself with her arms, but Morgan pushed himself forward to kiss her again before she could even try.

His kisses trailed away from her lips, his lips and teeth finding the skin of her jaw. He nipped his way down her neck, finding the soft of her skin that made her squirm. Any thought of all the scars that he could see was gone. All she could think about was his warm hands against her cold skin, his lips against her neck. She helped him remove his shirt, keeping her hands on his shoulders so she could admire the lines of his muscles, the smooth of his skin.

Morgan moved back, away from the wall, one hand on the small of her back and the other on her thigh to keep her steady. She kept her lips locked with his, his tongue flicking across her bottom lip. Y/N pushed her bedroom door open and it was only a few more steps to her bed. Morgan laid her down gently against the soft blankets.

She stared up at him, breathing heavily. His eyes were dark and full of desire and she imagined that hers looked no different.

His hands rested on either side of her, but not touching her.

“Are you sure about this?” He asked, his voice quiet. She nodded her head, sucking on the inside of her lower lip to keep herself quiet. “I need to hear you say it, baby.”

“Yes, yes,” she said breathlessly. “Are you?”

“I’m sure of nothing else.”

He lifted a hand to hook a finger under her chin, tilting her head back so he could capture her lips again. Almost in sync, the two of them crawled further onto the bed until her head rested against her pillow. He unhooked the button of her pants and Y/N felt her heart rate spike through the roof. She was pretty sure she blacked out the entire time he was taking off her pants. By the time she found herself again, he was kneeling in front of her, just staring.

She had been this exposed in front of him only once before, but under completely different circumstances. He had been holding her in his lap, his voice the only thing that she could cling to as she fought to keep herself alive. Not only that, but she had been covered in blood. Once again, she felt the need to cover herself up again. This time though, Morgan grabbed her wrists and pinned them beside her head.

“You are beautiful,” he said again, his eyes tracing her body before finding her gaze once again. “All of you.”

Y/N fought the urge to cry. It wasn’t grief that brought tears to her eyes but the fact that the sincerity behind his words almost made her believe him.

“Derek.”

She stretched upward to kiss him gently, a single tear sliding out of her eye.

And once that moment of calm had passed, there wasn’t a second more. She needed no more reassurance and he needed no more affirmation that she knew what she wanted. There was no holding back for either of them.

By the time that Y/N woke up the next morning, her body ached, but it was the kind of ache that felt good, that reminded her what she had done. Light flitted in through the window as she rolled onto her back, tangled up in her own bedsheets, a smile on her face.

She breathed in deeply, inhaling the pleasant smell of cooking bacon. She shot upward, looking over to find that her bed was empty aside from herself. Sliding out of the bed, she pulled on the flannel that was by her bed and shuffled out to the main bulk of her apartment, where the living room and kitchen was.

Her cheeks burned hot at the sight of half of her clothes discarded on the ground leading to her bedroom. She lifted a hand to cover her smile as the memory played through her mind.

“Morning.”

Y/N spun toward the kitchen, where Morgan was standing, fully clothed, by the stove. Y/N pulled at the bottom of her shirt, suddenly conscious of how short it was.

“Hi,” she replied, walking toward him. “Smells good.”

“I hope you don’t mind me raiding your cupboards,” he told her, opening an arm up for her. She settled in next to him, pressing a kiss against his shoulder.

“I don’t mind,” she said before breathing in deeply again. “How did you sleep?”

“For as little sleep as we did get?” Y/N’s cheeks burned again at the thought of it. “Slept good. How about you?”

“The soundest I have in a long while.”

Morgan’s phone ran from the counter top. Y/N took the spatula from his hand while he went toward his phone.

“Agent Morgan,” he said.

Y/N found herself smiling. She loved the way he said his own name, almost as much as she loved the way he said hers.

“Got it. I’ll be there soon.” Morgan flipped his phone shut and looked up at Y/N, an apology already forming in his eyebrows.

“Don’t worry about me,” she told him before he could even say anything. “It’s your job. I’ll be fine.”

“Thank you for understanding.”

He walked back toward her to press one final kiss against her forehead.

“Take some bacon,” she told him, which he obliged to willingly. “Stay safe.”

Morgan smiled back at her one last time, swiping his jacket off the ground, before disappearing through her front door.

****

A week later, Y/N was sitting on her couch in the dark, not because she was sad, but because the TV was on and she liked it dark when she watched TV. With a bowl of popcorn in her lap, she watched the figures on the screen move about. She was watching a documentary about a newly found tomb in Egypt. She had never been interested in any kind of documentaries until all of her favorite shows began reminding her about everything she hated about the world. Maybe one day she would be able to watch them again, but for now, she was satisfied with learning.

A knock came to her door. Y/N’s heart leaped. She hadn’t been expecting anyone and any time anything unexpected happened, she found herself scared all over again. She set her popcorn off to the side and shut off the TV, sitting quietly where she was as she waited from her breathing to find a steady rhythm again.

Once she could no longer hear her heart pounding in her ears, Y/N stood from the couch, shuffling toward the front door. She was already in her pajamas, an old t-shirt and pair of shorts, so she was really hoping that it was not a delivery guy, even though she hadn’t ordered anything.

She pulled the door open, allowing for one more deep breath.

But it wasn’t a delivery guy and it wasn’t a stranger coming to take her again. It was just Derek Morgan.

She almost smiled at the sight of him, but when she saw the look on his face, her eyebrows knit together instead.

“Derek-”

“Can I come in?”

She nodded her head, pushing the door open even wider.

“Of course.”

She reached out and took his hand leading him into her apartment, shutting the door behind him.

“It’s dark in here,” he said, looking up absently at the lights.

“I was watching TV,” she assured him. “Come sit with me.”

He followed her, almost dragging his feet as she led him to her room. She kept the lights off and he didn’t complain. She sat on the edge of the bed and so did he. Never once did she let go of his hand.

“What happened?” she asked in a hushed tone.

Almost as soon as she spoke, Morgan fell apart. His face crumpled and tears squeezed out of his eyes. He pressed the heel of his palms against his eyes as he tried to control his breathing. Y/N felt her own heart break inside her chest, pressing her forehead against the side of his head.

“It’s okay,” she whispered. “You’re safe here.”

Morgan turned toward her, wrapping his strong arms around her waist and pulling her toward him. She was startled by his sudden motion, but as soon as she recovered, she wrapped his arms around him, holding him close.

“It’s okay,” she said again. “I’m going to keep you safe.”

His words had played in her head all throughout her surgeries and trial. Every time she thought she was going to die, every time she wanted to give in, she heard his words, kind words for a stranger he had never met before.

She held him in the dark as he cried, grazing her nails across his back until his sobs began to quiet, until his breathing became steady again. He pulled away from her and she took his hand again. She closed her eyes as he pressed a kiss against her forehead.

“Will you tell me what happened?” She asked him.

Morgan sighed, squeezing his eyes shut and pinching the bridge of his nose.

“A lot of people died today,” he told her, his voice hoarse. “Even the guy who did it. All those lives lost and I….”

He choked and she saw a tear glint in the barest light of the moon. She put her hand on his cheek and turned his face to look at her.

“How many lives?” She asked him.

“What?”

“How many people died?”

“Six.”

“And how many people did you save?”

Morgan’s eyebrows pinched together. His eyes left hers and she brushed her thumb over his cheekbone.

“I...I don’t know,” he said finally.

“I can’t imagine how it must feel thinking you have to carry the lives of all those people on your back. But I can tell you how much it means to those who survive that you do the job you do. You saved lives, Derek Morgan. You did good.”

Morgan let out a shaky sigh.

“And you don’t have to carry anything alone anymore,” she continued. “I’m here now and I will help you every step of the way, anyway you need me to.”

Without saying another word, Morgan leaned forward and pressed a teary kiss to her lips.

“Can you just hold me?” He asked, his forehead resting against hers.

“Of course.”

She lay back against her pillow and he leaned his head against her chest. He draped an arm over her stomach and tucked his hand underneath her back. Y/N let her fingers trail up and down the back of his neck. He shifted a few times before settling, letting the beating of her heart sing him to sleep like a lullaby.

Even after he fell asleep, Y/N stayed awake, staring up at the ceiling. She was overwhelmed with a feeling that she couldn’t quite explain. It filled her chest, stretched out through her limbs, bounced around her mind. She tried to put a thought to the feeling, but she couldn’t. All she could do was let it consume her.

And after months of pain and misery and fearing every shadow, Y/N finally felt like she could breathe again.

#criminal minds #derek morgan #ssa derek morgan #criminal minds fic #derek morgan x reader #morgan x reader #reader insert #morgan x y/n

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yichens · 4 years ago

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get to know me

am going to mix these two different tag games into one post so thank you a lot for tagging me @jazthespazz and @i-am-just-a-kiddo ♥

it’s somehow funny to do these same games again after a while so let’s see what I come up with:

Part I

name: real name petra but i prefer vish/vishie over here ^^

pronouns: she/her

star sign: aries ♈

height: 178cm (which am coming more and more proud of while i realize how damn tall every cdrama actor is lol)

time: 10:37pm as am answering this one

birthday: 10th april!

nationality: finnish

fave bands/groups: ah well this is always a hard question but let’s go with these: BTS, DAY6, OneRepublic, Hurts, Oneus, Hoppipolla, TXT, Red, Mamamoo

fave solo artists: (forgive me if i’ve assumed any of these wrong) Novo Amor, Talos, Crywolf, Liu Yuning, SYML, EDEN, PVRIS, Joker Xue, NF, Halsey, Sleeping At Last, Nuz, HyunA, Sam Smith, Taemin

song stuck in your head: it’s OneRepublic’s Rescue Me bc of the song tag game i did earlier today :’D that one always gets stuck in my head whenever i as much as see the title lol

last movie you watched: i think it’s The Yin-Yang Master (2021)? I haven’t watched any movies after that bc am so busy with all of my dramas haha

last show you binged: i think binged would be The Journey Across the Night! I watched that as a whole in 4 days

when you created your blog: in 2013

the last thing you googled: ummm i think it was “what is a ball of wool called” bc of fic purposes haha as a non native speaker i always get a bit lost with words like this

other blogs: none, i just dump everything here like the idiot i am

why i chose my url: dates back to my intense summer of binge reading J.R. Ward’s Black Dagger Brotherhood series. Vishous was my favorite of the brothers haha. i first used this username in some random game on my nintendo ds lol

how many people are you following: 358 which somehow feels like a lot but also like way too few?? i should probably search for some new blogs with other topics than cql, bts and/or dmbj bc i do love a lot of things at once

how many followers do you have: over 800

average hours of sleep: i’d say around 7h

lucky numbers: i remember answering 5 previously? i don’t really have a lucky number but 5 pops into my head

instruments: nope, no. not touching those tyvm. i admire everyone who can play any instrument tho

what i’m currently wearing: black jeans, socks with foxes on them (plus my woolly socks), a gray cardigan (my fave thing ever!) and an orange/brown top

dream job: writer would be ideal but that is very faaaaar into the dream zone

dream trip: around different parts of asia to taste all the amazing food ;; maybe a road trip of sorts through europe? or inter railing? another trip to london bc i miss that ;; a trip to the very northern part of lapland to see all the auroras etc! i’ve never been that far north :’D

fave food: if i need to quickly name something then sushi. otherwise am pretty fine with anything spicy

top three fictional universes you’d like to live in: i remember thinking about this a lot the last time i answered this but hmm. currently i’d say dmbj still bc that world is fascinating AND i would love to talk to the characters. mass effect would be the second one currently bc i miss those games and the space stuff is super cool! and the third one would be assassin’s creed rogue bc that is my fave ac game and i like the northern sea and the places in it AND i could probably be one of abstergo’s employees instead and just test/play those simulation games haha

Part II

Last Song: am currently listening to my playlist with just everything so i have Andrew Belle’s The Enemy playing right now (also I only just now realized that Andrew Belle also sings Pieces which is one of my fave songs? my bff linked that to me after it played in some tv series she was watching)

Last Movie Last Stream: i didn’t want to mention the same movie again or skip this question and i’ve wanted to talk about this anyway so! i watched Liu Chang’s bday live last night :’D it was so much fun even if i couldn’t understand anything. it was just nice to watch him being himself and have fun and chill with his fans. also the songs were amazing ;; i cried with Liu Sang’s character song as well as the ending. and all the while i couldn’t turn my gaze away from his eyes! he has such pretty eyes and they were absolutely Sparkling throughout the whole stream, it was so nice :’)

Currently Reading: Devotions by Mary Oliver (i adore her poems! they’re a very nice change after Siken haha) and then some uni stuff for a course about culture and mental health plus my thesis

Currently Watching: Douluo Continent, Word of Honor, The Long Ballad

all of these are amazing and make me feel different things! i started Douluo Continent just a while ago and am now on ep 16 i think? it’s been very pretty and very chill and i watch it during the weekend while i wait for new episodes to the other two :’D it’s nice to see Xiao Zhan again and i’ve enjoyed the rpg game type of feeling in it? the group of seven is doing amazing and it’s interesting to watch them craft their team work! Word of Honor again has reached the ending and i just hold my breath with it. am not too far gone with it so i am not getting as heavy feelings about it as i probably could but i enjoy it alot still and i do cry at times ^^ and then The Long Ballad has just blown me away! i didn’t expect to love it this much and be this invested in it but everything about it has been such a positive surprise and it keeps making me super emotional! i love the characters and the story and the romances even! it’s a great accomplishment for me. also yes i cry on the daily bc of hao du and bc of ashile sun’s hair haha

(i am also rewatching Ultimate Note kind of and been thinking about getting into rewatching Reboot bc it has been on my list ever since i finished it)

What is antipoetry to you: okay hmm i had to google this too and have to agree with Kiddo here. i don’t have strong feelings about poetry tbh, i wasn’t into poetry that much before maybe a bit over year ago? Siken has really blown me away haha. but i have always loved song lyrics which i never thought as poetry but then Kiddo said to me that they consider them poetry and yeah ok. i agree? so idk poetry can be whatever i suppose. i’ve never seen any rules in it anyway. i know there are many rules for different types of poetry but then again. i feel like poetry has always been just words put together to feel things and i guess that is the core purpose of every written type of art in the end right?

Currently craving: a drama as good and as personal as The Journey Across the Night. that show really just stole my heart and i want that feeling back. i think about that show every day. i miss Li Jia and his two partners. i miss the vibes. i miss sitting on my floor watching it and just sobbing my heart out haha. also! craving a properly subbed, whole version of Anti-Fraud League. only the first 12 eps are badly subbed out there. wetv has... blocked? deleted? the whole show??? i need it to my life, i wanna see Xiao Yuliang being cute as Mi Ruo and i wanna know where the story goes smh

thank you so much for these both! i had fun ^^ also am sorry this is so long but haha if you’re asking me to talk about myself and my interests then this is what you get :)

tagging (to do which ever part you want or both!): @cross-d-a @jockvillagersonly @humanlighthouse @kholran @xcziel @minmoyu and @leonzhng ♥

#tag game #this was so much fun ok #also yes am an emotional mess #especially when it comes to liu chang/liu sang #and if anyone has any knowledge #about anti-fraud league #then am all ears???#thank you for tagging me!!

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hecticcheer · 4 years ago

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Hyponatremia (unfinished T/M/A fic)

Fiveish months ago I tried to write a fic based on this scenario post I made. I’m super definitely never gonna finish it, and, it just kinda trails off at the end? Also it’s very rough. Features some American measurements in brackets that I’m too lazy to convert, if that gives you an idea. But I figured I’d post it anyway on one-slice-of-cake>no-cake principle.

As for the plot... uh. Jon has a headache; Martin tries to help, but makes it worse. For *checks notes* ~4200 words. If it has one saving grace, it’s that you can mmmmostly understand it without prior knowledge of T/M/A? Long as you know Martin’s living in the Archives to hide from an evil worm monster, you should be good.

As usual, Jon was the first person to join Martin down in the Archives that morning, sometime between seven and eight. And, no more unusually, Martin had twelve-plus hours of nervous energy to work off, and nobody to shed it on but his boss. “Morning. Sleep well? Tim said you still had some work to do when we left for the pub, but I didn’t see you when I got back so you can’t have made too late a night of it.” (Jon shook his head.) “Shame you couldn’t join us, by the way. Elena and Clarisse and them destroyed us on geography, and Sasha says you’re pretty good on maps and that. Maybe you could’ve saved us.”

“Doubt it,” said Jon. Martin waited for him to add more to that thought, but instead he just sort of stood there. Pinched one nostril shut and inhaled experimentally through the other. Trying to figure out which one was clogged, maybe? Tim said Jon’d said he had a headache; maybe it was a sinus thing. Not that this was exactly reliable intel. On pub-quiz Wednesday Tim always regaled him and Sasha with Jon’s latest excuses not to join them. They were always bad, but some were so bad Martin suspected they weren’t so much Jon’s lies as Tim’s lies about Jon’s lies. Probably not a great idea to mention this one, then. He’d stick to the first excuse Jon had allegedly given:

“Did you finish what you were working on?”

Jon closed his eyes, for a bit longer than the average blink, but not long enough to count as a proper wince. “Not even close.”

“Oh. What… was it?”

“Cabinet of statements from 2003. Or at least, nominally from 2003, though by my count less than a third of them actually date from that year.”

“Yikes. Need any help? Extra pair of hands, or.”

“Not right now.”

“2003,” Martin mused—“are you still looking for Mr. McKenzie’s statement?”

A short, but hearty sigh. Enunciated, practically. He didn’t open his mouth until afterward, but Martin could see his nostrils flare around it. “No. Three days ago, when I started to look through the cabinets marked 2003, I was looking for Mr. McKenzie’s statement. Now I just want to find out which statements in there I can’t send straight to the discredited section.”

Jon stood in the open doorway to his office by this point, hand on the knob as if to remind Martin of his eagerness to close it behind him. Even so Martin tried to peer past him into the office, looking for a discard pile of statements he might offer to shuttle away himself. This was pretty hard to do surreptitiously, though. He’d hoped his eyes would land at once on the tallest pile, at which time he could point to it and say, Are those the discredited ones, then? But from his vantage point all the piles on Jon’s desk seemed taller than usual.

“Right,” Martin said instead; “good luck.” He smiled weakly and returned his gaze to Jon, meaning to restore eye contact before he remembered how seldom Jon looked at people’s faces anyway. At this moment both his eyes were covered by the hand not on the doorknob. It would’ve been weird, he figured, to just duck out now while Jon couldn’t even see him, so Martin told himself to wait until he opened his eyes and only then back off.

But then Jon just stayed like that, for ages, with his fingers on one temple and his thumb on the other, blocking all possibility of sight. Eventually Martin felt like he had no choice but to say, “Are you alright?—or, I mean, how’s your head, by the way? Tim said….”

“It’s fine.”

“Ssssso it—doesn’t still hurt, then?”

“I’m fine, Martin. Thank you,” Jon said, but in one of the least thankful-sounding tones of voice he had. And then he closed the door, without even waiting for Martin to back up.

—

“Thought you might like coffee this morning instead of tea. It’s got more caffeine, and, that’s supposed to help, right? Plus I remembered what you said on your birthday about tea having tannins just like wine does. Of course, for all I know coffee might too—”

“It does.”

“Oh. Well… maybe the caffeine’ll cancel it out and you’ll break even? Or, I don’t know, maybe if you already have a headache they can’t trigger one.”

Jon’s answering Hm sounded pessimistic. Sure enough, as soon as Martin had finished his sentence he said, “I’m not that lucky.”

“Probably not,” Martin agreed with a laugh. “Still, least it’s hydration. Though caffeine’s a diuretic, so if I recall correctly you only get about half, volume-wise. That mug’s about… [twelve ounces,] I’d say? So it probably counts as about [six toward your sixty-four].”

“Yes, yes,” replied Jon, picking up his bottle of water and shaking it. When he set it down again, one look confirmed what Martin had suspected from the sound it made—it was nearly empty.

“Oh hey, look at that! Looks like you’re doing a pretty good job even without…” he trailed off, realizing too late that the most logical end to that sentence was my help, and that that was a pretty pompous way to refer to a coffee he was pretty sure Jon didn’t even want. So instead he said, “I’ll go refill that for you.” And before Jon could look up Martin scurried off to the break room with it.

The water dispenser should’ve been changed yesterday. When the water got this low it took ages to fill even a mug, much less a tall bottle like this one. It startled as a trickle, and by about halfway up the bottle slowed to a glorified drip. In his mind he pleaded with the water spout not to make so much noise; promised it he’d put in a new one as soon as he’d returned Jon’s water to him, mouthed encouragements to it. Not much farther, just to the top of the M, come on, you can do it. (The bottle was an Institute freebie, with Magnus Institute inscribed on it in black-bordered green letters. Martin had one just like it somewhere in his flat. Worm bait now, he supposed.)

By the time he brought it back Jon’s eyes were on the statement in his hands. Skimming, by the looks of it, rather than either actually reading or pretending to.

Martin endeavored to set down his refilled water audibly, but not painfully loudly. But Jon’s answering “Thank you” took him so much by surprise that at the last moment his wrist jerked and the bottle fell over.

“Ah! Sorry, sorry.” It had a lid, so, not an actual disaster? Jon did snarl at him though, or at least at the noise. His hands flew up as if to cover his ears, but he seemed to reject that idea halfway through. Just closed his fists around thin air, then leant his temple on one of them and sighed through his nose. “Sorry,” Martin said again. “Didn’t mean to startle you.”

Jon’s emphatic blink seemed to stand in for a nod.

“Anyway, here’s a further [sixteen ounces] for you, looks like, or thereabouts,” ventured Martin, patting the side of the water bottle with one hand while holding it down with the other so it definitely wouldn’t topple again. “I’ll just leave you to it then.”

“Mm.”

“Good luck.”

—

After his stunt with the water bottle Martin had too much distrusted himself to risk making another big noise with the door, so he’d left it with its tongue sticking out rather than latching it. This meant he made almost no sound when he entered again. The first thing he noticed was that the water in Jon’s bottle still reached the top of the M. It still sat in the same place, too—not out of Jon’s reach but far enough away (Martin had told himself at the time) not to seem an imposition on his space. Almost definitely not where one would set it if one intended to pick it up again soon. His coffee seemed to have fared a bit better though. Half empty, one might say. Optimistically.

The second thing he noticed was Jon himself, who sat with his elbows on the desk, his chin on the heels of his palms, and his fingers arranged around his eyes like fence posts. Like a child peeking out at something they’re too scared to look at directly—except that his eyes were closed.

Martin snuck back to the other side of the door and knocked on it, gently. “Hey, uh, Jon?”

He didn’t look up, and opened his eyes for only a second before shutting them again. But he did drop his hands, threaded his fingers together and set them on the table, and bit his lip. “What, Martin.”

“Er—well, I know you said you’d given up looking for Marcus McKenzie’s statement, but I just realized I never asked if you’d thought to look in the discredited section. I mean, from what he said on the phone it didn’t sound like he took his dad’s statement all that seriously, so, maybe Gertrude put it in there, as, like, corroborating evidence that it wasn’t paranormal, and McKenzie senior’s statement just got misfiled?”

“Martin, I invented the discredited section.”

“Oh.”

“Anything else you wanted to say?”

“Oh, uh, nothing important. Just wondered if you’d like me to take that mug away.”

Instead of responding verbally, Jon picked up the mug and made what seemed a valiant effort to drink a little more of the coffee inside it. From what Martin could tell, he barely managed not to grimace in disgust.

“Do you like coffee? I’m not a big fan of it either, to be honest. Oh, well. If you can’t force that down you’ve still got plenty of water there, I see. Besides, it’ll wash out the taste.” (With an actual heh heh, which came out more like a small dog panting than like human laughter.)

Dramatic, snarly sigh from Jon. “Think I’ll pass. It seems to make it worse, if anything.”

“Oh. Sorry about that; must be those pesky tannins. I’ll just take your cup now then.”

But Jon only tightened his grip on it. “Water, I meant. The coffee’s fine. Not exactly my favorite beverage in the world, but, you were right. It’s a good idea.”

“Oh. Thanks, I’m glad you.” Martin smiled, then frowned. “Wait, water makes it worse?”

“Seems to.”

“Really? Are you sure it wasn’t just—too cold, or something.”

His laugh sounded bitter, hollow—theatrically so, in fact. A perfect Ha ha ha, except he didn’t say those words, didn’t enunciate them like Sasha sometimes did when Tim made a bad joke. He just made the exact sounds they were invented to transcribe. “No, Martin. I haven’t just been giving myself a brain freeze every time I.”

“…Right, of course not. Sorry, I didn’t mean to.” For a few silent seconds Martin picked at a notch in his thumbnail, carved there earlier this morning by a stubborn paperclip. Part of him wanted to tear the nail off and have done, but he knew it would bleed if he did. Nothing to clip it with in the Archives, obviously. “Are you sure you won’t try again? This water’s quite tepid, actually, since I got it literally from the bottom of the barrel—”

“Martin—”

“Sorry, sorry. Just thought it was worth—”

“Don’t you have something better to do.”

“Er… no, actually. Pretty much finished with everything, at the momen…t. Though if you’d like to give me another assignment I’d be happy to—yeah. Do that, for you. Or I mean, for the sake of the Archives; I don’t mean it’d just be, like, busy work. Not accusing you of that or anything.”

“Are you comfortable leaving the Archives?”

For half a second Martin heard this as a hint—an offer? a threat?—that Jon meant to have him transferred to another department. Then he wondered if Jon was hinting it was time Martin found somewhere else to live. “What, like, permanently?”

“No—just as long as it takes to track down and interview Georgie Barker about her role in the statement Ms. King gave us.”

“Oh. Yeah, I think so, uh. Thank you for asking? I mean, Prentiss said she was done with me, right. At least, me personally. And she already knows I’m here, so it’s not like.”

Jon replied shortly, “Yes.”

“I’d like to listen to Ms. King’s statement first, though, if that’s alright. What’d you say it was about? The Cambridge Military Hospital?”

Another short, emphatic, nose-directed sigh. Couldn’t be too stuffed-up then, Martin guessed. “Technically, yes, though Ms. King insists the building itself had nothing to do with it.”

“Huh. What was it about, then?”

“She alleges that a woman she hired to help film one of her ghost stories peeled the skin off her arm.”

“Oh my god! I mean, did you—was she okay? Did she show you her arm? Did it seem to have—you know—skin?”

“Her own arm, not Ms. King’s.”

“Oh.” Martin sighed for himself now, though with relief rather than exasperation. Managed a tiny laugh, as well. “Okay, well, that’s. Creepy as hell, but, not nearly as bad as.”

“Mm. Nor nearly as verifiable as your version.”

“T…rue, no, I guess not. Anyway do you have the tape? I’d like to listen myself, if that’s.”

Jon pointed to a small stack of tapes on the bookshelf to Martin’s right. Sure enough, the top one had M. King, 0161704 sharpied across the label on its side. “Ah! Found it. Thanks.” He had a tape player squirreled away already; on another day he might’ve pretended otherwise, but for the moment he was too relieved not to have to make a pest of himself by asking to borrow one to worry whether the absence of that request might make Jon suspicious.

Besides, Jon seemed pretty… absorbed in himself, this morning. By the time Martin turned to face him again one of Jon’s hands had crept back up to his face, where its fingers now seemed to comb the hairs of his left eyebrow. He didn’t think he’d ever seen Jon do that before, plus doubted the hairs in question needed his help to lie flat. Jon’s eyebrows had always struck him as quite neat. Plus Martin had tried that with his own eyebrows plenty of times before the mirror in his youth, and knew it didn’t work very well even if you licked your finger—which Martin assumed Jon hadn’t. So he figured he should file this behavior in the same box as the earlier fist-clenching-to-avoid-covering-ears thing. As, like, headache-soothing for people who don’t want to look weak. Or unprofessional, or something to that effect.

This gave him a sense of foreboding when he thought too hard about it. But Martin needed so badly to keep this job, now that his flat wasn’t safe anymore. It seemed wiser not to look directly at abstract threats like that. If he could make Jon feel better then it wouldn’t matter, right? Or at least could be put off til next time.

“Are you sure you’re alright?”

“Don’t recall saying I was,” Jon muttered.

Martin winced. He had said he was alright—Martin was certain. When he’d first come in that morning, he’d said he was fine when Martin asked, and then he’d closed the door. Didn’t seem worth correcting him over it, though. So Martin just said, “Try to drink something while I’m gone, yeah? Kool-Aid, for all I care, just. You really don’t look like you’re feeling all that well. And any kind of drink other than alcohol should—oh.”

He looked up, hearing Jon swallow what sounded like a lot more than the tiny sip of coffee he’d managed before.

“Well. Great. Thank you for obliging me.”

Jon continued to gulp down water, while staring right at Martin. He paused in swallowing to breathe, but even then did not remove the mouth of the bottle from his own mouth. When he tried to resume drinking it made him cough instead, and even then he didn’t set it down.

“O-okay, well, I’m sure that’s plenty, don’t—?” Hurt yourself, Martin wanted to say, but feared that would sound patronizing. The bottle was more than half empty now. Jon paused for air again. “For god’s sake, Jon, stop—that looks like it hurts—you don’t have to—?”

At last he slammed the empty bottle on his desk—more loudly than could possibly be comfortable for a man with a headache. Leant his elbow on the table, and between pants huffed a laugh and said, “Care to refill it for me?”

On a sort of autopilot Martin chirped, “Uh—sure! No problem I’ll just,” and rushed off with it to the break room. This refill took much less time, since he’d remembered to change out the thingy. But it still took long enough that by the time he got back he worried, “You’re not going to chug this one too, are you?”

“No,” said Jon, eyes and hands both busy now with a statement hitherto hidden by his elbow. He did not reach out a hand to take the bottle from Martin.

“Okay, I’ll just. Leave this here then. See you after the, uh. Yeah.”

—

And lo, it was as he had feared. Chugging [sixteen ounces] of water did indeed make his headache worse. By ten it seemed to count turning the page of a statement as an exertion worth pounding over. True, by lunch time it seemed to have backed off a bit—until he sat back down at his desk with his fork and plate. On his way to the microwave he’d thought he must be on the mend: his head throbbed a little harder than when he’d been seated, but not so much he’d have noticed the difference had he not set out to pay attention to it. Some food, maybe an ibuprofen or two and he’d be fixed, he’d told himself.

Once he got to the break room, though, he noticed something else odd. His limbs were weak. His knees seemed made of jelly, and wobbled beneath him every time he shifted his weight; his arms were steady enough, but when he set down the pizza box on the counter after retrieving it from the fridge he felt a surge of relief, which he hardly understood until he’d transferred a slice from the no-onion half onto a plate and picked up the latter to put it in the microwave. Even these tiny movements made his arms, neck and chest ache like they do when you hold your breath too long. He leant his elbows against the counter and gulped down air until his mouth felt so dry he couldn’t bear to keep it open. Wondered if he should sit down; he felt a bit dizzy. But he had less than 30 seconds left to wait for the microwave, which he figured couldn’t hurt him.

It didn’t, but the walk back to his office did a bit. Moving his legs’ sluggish muscles made his whole body ache—again like it does when you run too long and have to stop for breath. He figured it must be in a similar spirit that his head waited til he’d sat down to unleash its onslaught. Before leaving his desk he’d grown used to thinking of his heart beat’s faint buzzy shocks like the second hand on a clock, criticizing him under its breath from where it watched behind his eyes. This was… a great deal worse than that. He tried to time the beats against the ticking of his wrist watch, but couldn’t seem to focus on that and breathe at the same time. They were fast, though, at least at first. His heart rate did seem to calm down fairly quickly, but he could swear it never got all the way back down to its earlier rate—at least not before his attention shifted from the speed to just. How much it hurt.

Was that what made his slice of pizza so tasteless? When he cut his first bite, on its way to his mouth he thought he caught a whiff of the red onions with which its tip must have shared space, and only his horror of Tim asking What was wrong with that part, then? when he brought the otherwise-empty plate back to the sink stopped him from scraping that bite off his fork and trying again higher up the slice. But when he finally forced himself to eat it? Nothing. No onion taste, thank god, but everything else too seemed… muted. Hardly worth how the exertion of chewing made his head hammer after each swallow. Jon knew the taste of food was hardly the point of eating it, but? In the absence of everything he normally liked about cheese and meat and bread and vegetables, the fact the cheese squelched in his mouth made him wish he’d never left his bed. The way leaves of soggy spinach flapped over the sides of even his neatly-cut rectangles. His stomach tightened in revulsion, so that in his throat he could feel each swallowed lump shifting from foot to foot, waiting to be let in. Not to mention how the effort of cutting it shook the whole damn table.

He told himself he could skip the crust. If Tim asked about it, Jon’d just tell him it’d gone stale. Just get through the… other part, the crumb, the filling. Between throbs the ache in his tired jaw merged with the one behind his eyes. Why didn’t it always hurt to chew? Did the pleasure of tasting food give you enough endorphins to cancel it out? Would everyone have this problem all the time if we had to live on, say, dry toast?

Right, okay, close enough. Ibuprofen now. No, you idiot—other drawer. In the fantasy versions he’d rehearsed of this moment he clapped four of them from his palm into his mouth at once, and swallowed them dry. But his blister pack turned out to have only three left. Which was fine! Just fine. Better, probably, after so little lunch.

Also, dry-swallowing was kind of a misnomer? He’d never really thought about it before, but. Turned out it would only work if your so-called “dry” mouth had spit in it. As it was the pills stuck to his tongue, leaving streaks of spicy burnt-orange when he tried to claw them back toward his throat with his teeth. When they got far back enough on his tongue he had to concentrate not to gag, and they still stuck—even when he turned his nose to face the ceiling and thumped on his chin with his hand (which, ouch)—at that point he gave up and unscrewed his water. Allowed as little of it in his mouth as would let him swallow these damn things, and wash their stains off his tongue. And it still made his head throb harder.

Jon imagined shooting whoever next told him to stay hydrated. He derived little joy from the fantasy, though; couldn’t not think of the loud, sharp noise it would make.

Returning the plate could wait, he decided; not like it would attract worms in the thirty minutes it’d take for the pills to kick in. Meanwhile he’d just… keep sorting. He took a statement off the top of the pile in front of him and blinked at it over and over, until his vision resolved into a shape he told himself hurt marginally less than the others. 9720406, Nathaniel Thorp. Christ, 1972? “Misfiled” was practically an understatement for that one. And here he’d thought Gertrude had kept that part of the century in relative good order. Still, he stuck it on the all other years pile and reached for another. 0130111, David Laylow. Nope—still not 2003. 0002610, Jennifer Wong. 0910203, Lisa Jones. 0081711, Donald Gately. 0100912, Lawrence Mortimer. 0152101, Uzma Rashid. Ha!—0030707, Seymour… Backsides. Wait a minute. Hadn’t he seen a prank statement with that name before lunch? He grabbed a stack off the 2003 pile and found… Rashid, Mortimer, Gately. Had he switched the—? Look in the unsorted pile again, he told himself. Under where he’d found Mr. Backsides’ tale he uncovered statements 0031212, 0032504, 0031809, and so on. Great. After Seymour he must’ve got mixed up. There was no more unsorted pile—not on his desk, anyway. He’d have to pull some more out of the… open filing cabinet which stood across the room with its tongue stuck out at him. Yeah, well, that could wait too. For now he’d just. Check his email.

#a shifty tract #to be clear hyponatremia is uh. too little sodium in blood. it is the 'eat more salt' ailment #it's very common w/ dehydration so any diuretic (i.e. med that makes you pee more) can cause it?#my plan here was to have martin complain to tim and sasha that he Broke Jon and when he mentions jon said water made it worse ('god why #('didn't i just believe him?') tim as the only Sports Guy in the archives recognizes ah-ha! electrolytes!#and either get him himself or tell martin to get him some trail mix and sports drink #and have jon drag his feet since every other suggestion his coworkers have given him over the last few days of headache &c. has been Garbage #but eventually cave out of pure frustration--enjoy the taste of salty raisin and stale pretzel so much he grins til his face hurts--#and figure out it must be 'cause he switched adhd meds recently #(...tho apparently it's rare for them to have this effect BUT THEY CAN! i have two data points)#nonsearchable tma tag

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kaiju-z · 4 years ago

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“Moonlight Tryst Under The Eclipse”

Right! So! A little clarification is in order! Um. So like. There’s this D&D show called “Role With Me”/”The Ties That Bind”. And the party have recently reached a high-tech Elven city and are learning all kinds of things about the society there. Including that they found fucking God fan fiction. Fan fiction written about Arkanos, God of Magic, who is also the elves’ God. And of Solomon, the God of Undeath. Who is basically enemy to all elven kind, after he convinced a group of them to worship him, in exchange for “immortality”, which is the secret origin of the drow in that world.

So like. It’s them. As like. A ship. They found shipfics and were reading them.

So this is basically inspired by that. And it’s a fic, “as written” by a writer in that world, that city. That internet. So yeah. It’s a fic, within a fic. ó ____ ó;;; That’s it. That’s the joke.

Also yes, you should watch Role WIth Me. Very Dark Souls/Witcher-ish. With a flavor of Bloodborne. Also lots of funnies between the rough stuff that our heroes go through.

An Arkanos/Solomon fanfic by RainbowRunner899

It was meant to be a distraction. A simple. Basic. Get your mind off the ear-splitting screams and wails distraction. A honest to yourself one. And yet here you were. Hours after the fact, still locked in an embrace with the long eared boy scout!

Arms around your body, you can easily feel his fingers trace every smooth pattern and ridge of your back as the stars shimmer and shake under his dexterous touch. Unlike your dark dealings in your domain beyond mortal comprehension, here you are incapable of hiding your intents and secrets. Or at least, the ones you can gesticulate.

Damn him! Damn this know-it-all paragon that bewitched you with his soft voice and alluring eyes! His words, his face, his everything! It drives you to madness! Like that’d mean anything to you, anyways. You were already unhinged. By some slight you yourself perceive as such. You blame your makers for it and have stated it as such to him, many a nights.

Many, upon many, for centuries, long since after he took his foolish followers and ran off into parts unknown, leaving you with your defiled flock of sycophants! You hate them, for they fell so easily and thus, you send them to do all sorts of cruelties. Just to test how far they’ll go for you. When they’d snap. Break. You figure that is why he had come out of hiding the first time, since your conflict. And confronted you.

The two of you had fought for dominance, throwing stars and supernovas at one another, frightening the populace around you. And, had it not been for his quick thinking and raised defenses, you two surely would have exterminated all life in the vicinity.

‘Damn him.’ you think, your face flushing as his hands move to your front, caressing the 8 pack. Damn him for seeing through your ruse that night. Through to the very core of who you were and why you did what you did! All that cruelty and anger! All of it, creating a Seeming of unseen proportions, hiding the broken man in need of help underneath.

Only he saw it! Neither Vanderen, nor Fleetfoot. Nor the old man and the revelry wench got even the slightest idea you had this secret pain! They were too stupid, too blind to see. But not Arkanos. He knew and he punished your body so with the palms of his hands. Your breathing growing heavy to his actions and you contemplate evasive maneuvers.

He reaches for your pa-aaand you grab his wrist. “No.” you go, hissing at him with a glare of pure death. Or undead. As is your aspect.

He looks at you with those gentle eyes. Those honest and wise eyes. “No?” he repeats, questioning you with his pretty little face. You’d bite your lip, if you had one. Then shake your head.

“No.” And you’d get up and try to make way out of the room, specifically by him, to protect you both from prying eyes. “I’m leaving. Going back, I-I have work to do. Monsters to raise. Many dark biddings to be made, Arkanos.” You growled, pitifully to show aggression. But he’s unmoving, unperturbed by your behavior as you struggle to put your robe back on. Damn thing! Did you start putting it with the wrong sleeve forward?! You’d struggle and huff and puff as you forced your head through a familiar opening and then flinch backwards, bumping into the wall.

“You’re having those thoughts again, aren’t you, Sol?” he asks you directly, his voice peaceful, like a river during summer. Disgusting. And beautiful, damn it! So beautiful! You think that as he had been standing right to face you once you put your head through the clothing. “Don’t lie to me. My eyes cannot be tricked, my ears cannot be lied to… and my heart- And he’d reach for his chest, tapping the left peck, before reaching over to tap your own.

You had no pulse. Not that it mattered. You were a god and who honestly cared about pulses, when you would live forever! Or unlive. Or-aaah, fuck it! You’d look away, scowling a boney scowl. “This game ends here, Arkanos. You’ve seduced me many a times before, but this ends now. You know you could never beat me in a fair fight and I know that you can’t backstab me like some mortal rogue under the pale moon light.” you scoffed, grabbing the door handle.

Twisting it, turning it. Opening the entrance and, in your case, the exit from his awkward situation. But right before you’d leave, the door would shut, without you even taking a full step ahead. You flinch, step backwards and bump into his frame. Then you have to straighten yourself as you attempt to prevent flushing of the cheeks. Straightening yourself and your clothing, you scoff. “Of course, right. Your wards.”

“Yes, Sol.” He’d smile a little smile your way and you feel your spine shiver. That cute smile that drove you crazy. After everything you did. All the people you killed and brought back as your meat and soul puppets! And he has the gall to smile at you like that.

“Well, undo it!” you try to regain footing. To find your equilibrium and tower over him, make yourself bigger, like one of those bear things that roam Fleetfoot’s forests. But intimidation does not work on him and you know it. He’s too brave. TOO STUPID, you try to think, but you know he’s too smart for you. Of all of them, even you, with all your dark and vile magicks, he was always the superior intellect.

He’d sigh a light sigh and glance over to the nearby window. It had been darkened off with the Darkness spell, which you made sure to cast, in case one of your flunkies or one of his randomly popped their head through. And he’d walk over to it, tapping it gently with a finger, dispelling. The sky appeared an odd mix of colors. It was familiar. Reminded you of your many birthdays. Yes, even the one good one you had all those millennia ago.

He’d wave a hand to you to step on over and join him at the glass separating you two from the outside. No words were needed. He had prepared the right set of movements, didn’t he?! A pregnant pause. And you go over, though you dare not look upwards at what the sky would be like. You just look down, no head in the clouds. Only down towards the muck.

“There is no shame in what you feel, Sol. You know that, right?” he’d say, side-glancing you every now and then as he faced the sky, while you watched the passerby folk, well, pass by. Wordlessly, you listen to him. And then have to find yourself blinking as the silence became deafening. Like he wanted a direct answer from you.

You’d grimace and cant your head some in a direction of your choosing. “I’ve killed and converted and had them kill… so many people. And you’re trying to psychoanalyze me, Arkanos. Don’t you find the flaw in that?!” he’d sneer. “The daddy of the elves meeting with the step dad of your little traitors. In secret and for centuries now. Isn’t that a little-Don’t you think that’s kind of fucked up?!” he’d not even raise a brow over your foul mouth. He was used to it.

He was used to keeping it occupied, too. Hmph!

“Is it really so crazy, Sol? Is it, though?” he’d smile again, resting a hand on your shoulder. “You. And I. Have such a history, spanning many a lifetimes of many a people. From the short-lived to the ancient. Friends. To rivals. To enemies. To friends…” he’d giggle and your face would change shades. It was a whole galactic party on your features. “To so much more.”

“Fuckbuddies.” he scoffed at your phrasing. He was used to the cussing, but that sort of direct crassness gave you a bit of an advantage… every now and then.

“Call it as you want, Sol. But I know the truth. I peered through your actions and your thoughts and I saw the real you… And I saw the broken pieces. They were there, inside you. Calling, screaming to be reshaped.” He spoke to you with such determination and passion. You’d mistake him for one of those new-fangled “bards”. “Is it honestly that big of a surprise that once you reached out as you did, I would reach back in turn?”

You look away. “After everything I put you and your kids through, how is that a surprise, Ark-“he has a hand on your cheekbone, slowly turning your face in his direction, as you sought to glance away in your shame and woe. “I-I mean-“

No time to finish the sentence. He pecks your face with his lips. Quick and focused. Your spine shivers at his advance. But you don’t really fight it, though you hate him pulling away.

“You are a lonely man, shrouded in a darkness of your own making. Unwilling to show the pain to those around you, fearing their response.” He’d say softly. “But I saw and I felt and I knew that day…”

“You knew…?” you asked.

He’d nod to you with a, well, knowing smile, his cheeks turning pink. It really didn’t take you that much to figure out what he meant.

“O-oh. Oh!”

“Yes.”

“Ohhhhh…” it was all you could say, while he glanced back out the window and you followed his gaze to the sky above. Where the moon had gone before the sun, creating a rare masterpiece that the mortals found fascinating as all hell. But to you? To you this was your birthday. Again, damn it, you’d bite your lip if you had that.

You feel his hand on your person. Fingers entangling with your own. You look to them. And you look to him. His eyes took that “look” again. A familiar one that the two of you would act upon whenever the opportunity struck.

He walked back. And headed to the bed that faced the door, light step after light step, pulling you along. One knee on the bed. A creeking sound. His other knee on the mattress. A repeat. Shifting of weight as he pulled you on over.

You’d open your mouth to speak. “I-“

And he’d answer. “I know.”

Wordlessly, the two of you would lock faces and commiserate as he helped you take off the robe again. This time much slower and to the point than in a simple moment of passion. There was more feeling there.

As he’d undress you and you him, a thought would crawl into your mind.

Perhaps it was possible. Perhaps it was, yes, that the shattered insides of your soul could be put together again. Perhaps he could do it.

To Be Continued.

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Author’s notes: WONDERCRAK! Thank you, dear readers, for all the well wishes and kind words about the last story! Even you, KnuckleTucker3000. I appreciate the criticism on my grammar and took it to heart o w o! Wow, like, wow! So like, I was really excited to get to this part of the story, ‘cause, obviously I finally got to reveal what kinda day Solomon was born on u w u Next week’s continuation’s gonna get extra spicy, tho, so I have to bring back the reminder >8( This one’s for the grown-ups and it’s gonna be tagged NSFW! Don’t read if a Lemon Fic isn’t your thing! I’ll drop the hidden lore bits I’ll be putting in that one!

Stay tuned u w u, RainbowRunner899 out!

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donaidk · 4 years ago

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Rhythm of Time - Part IV

Stepping away from requests for a second to finally finish off this part, which has been waiting half done in my drive 😂 Next thing on the agenda gonna be the Callum & Marcus fic and a special request that I’m really looking forward to 🥺 Tomorrow is an off day for me, but I promise you’re getting at least one more fic this week 😊 Thank you in advance for reading and I’m always looking forward to your guys’ feedback 🥰🧡

Part III | You’re here | Part V | ...

Masterlist | Taglist/Queue | Request

The little break between Spain and Monaco flew by quickly bringin on the net race weekend. I felt refreshed after spending a week at home with my grandparents and siblings to celebrate my birthday. Maybe five years ago it would have been a celebration at our family home with the whole extended family. But just two years ago I did everything in my power to get out of that bubble, leaving those parties and everything connected to my dad’s side of the family behind. It was unlucky that it was the bigger part, leaving me with only a pair of grandparents and the brother of my mum to confide in. Not even my mum as she was still trapped under her husband’s net that was sewn with his lies. If you asked her it was nothing more than Dad getting set up by those nasty big corporations that wanted to bring him down but luckily failed to do so, thanks to his magical skills and knowledge. I tried to change her mind listing facts about his decisions and showing her actual court papers, but she still didn’t believe me nor her own parents who were on my side. It was a whole lot of mess that I just left by the help of Erica and the internship offered by Haas. These were the only days when I felt regret towards my decision of leaving everything behind. Before and after went perfectly, it was just the days we celebrated yearly occasions without them. Still, I would slap my older self if I didn’t go through with the plan and decided otherwise, messing up my present life situation.

As my real birthday would be on the 23rd we made the decision to celebrate a week early, giving me enough time to get to Monaco with the team. It never really mattered to me anyways when the celebration was held, I was just looking forward to it wherever we put it in the calendar. I just tried to enjoy it to the fullest as I knew the most we would do about it in Monaco is having a few drinks with George, Aurélie, Dan and Robert after the race and then a good night's sleep. I have been looking forward to it every day since I became friends with this group, but it still wasn’t a huge party that everyone attended and it wasn’t centred around me fully. It was more like a yearly get together than a birthday celebration as we never shared gifts and did the same thing for each of our birthdays that we planned for season starts or ends. It was a great way to relax a bit and spend time together before or after all the chaos the season can bring to the table.

The thought of our Sunday night plans was the only thing that made me drag my body through Saturday. I slept 3 hours at max the previous night thanks to having to catch up with some work and then not being able to shut my mind off. It was already 3 or 4 a.m. when I finally fell asleep and had to be up by 6 because Günther needed me for a quick meeting about some interviews and only had time for me early in the morning. When i left his office it was still early, only a few of the guys were sitting at their desks when I sat down at one of the tables at the side with my laptop. I wanted to get the schedule up to date with all the new plans so Mick could see the full picture of it for at least the next week. During the season the drivers were usually at the mercy of their teams, meaning work came before almost everything. But I still liked to have the schedule updated so he could plan his travels and any other family or friend activities forward. It made it easier for the both of us even if it meant even more work to keep it organized.

It was maybe around half past 7 when Robert arrived at the office, taking a seat across me with his own tablet screen full of emails he had to go through. We shared a small smile before getting back to our own screens. I got through maybe half of what I had to do before I just pushed the laptop further up the table so I could lean onto the table and just close my eyes for a bit. I even kicked off my shoes, pulling my legs up on the chair, crossing them. It wasn’t my intention to fully fall asleep but it still happened. There was maybe a 5 second period where I came back to my senses but then was out cold again until my phone vibrated on the table next to my arm. It shook me out of my dream, making me straighten up immediately before realising what woke me up. Taking a look around me I was just about to look at the annoying source of the noise when I caught the sight of flowers and a box of bon-bons next to me and I froze in my seat. I didn’t have any idea how those got next to me and I looked up at Rob confused, hoping he was still sitting in the same position when it happened. He tore his gaze away from the tablet screen, lifting it up onto me and then cocking his head towards the big table. As I followed his movement my eyes landed on Mick who was sitting with his back to me, focusing on what Pete was telling him while going through the lines of data and info coming from the free practices and qualification.

I tried getting back to my to-do list, so I would be free until the pre-race scheme started and I had to run around the paddock like a headless chicken. It was usually calm a few hours previous, during and then after the race. But in between those it’s usually just chaos. Organized chaos, but still full of walks around the paddock, attending interviews and last sessions with trainers. I was still happy that I just had to make sure Mick was always where he had to be and didn’t have to take part in anything after that, and could just sit or stand around observing from the outside. The next time I looked up was when people around me mentioned going for lunch and turning my head towards them I saw Mick standing up from their table too. I was just about to look away when he turned around and our gazes met just a second later.

“ Oh, you’re finally up. ” He let out a laugh, making me roll my eyes at him. “ Happy birthday. ” He added making me smile again. For a second I wanted to question how he knew the date, but then I remembered an occasion where we were talking about it and I was pretty sure I mentioned my birthdate to him. It still surprised me a little that he remembered.

“ Thank you. It was quite a surprise. ” I looked at the flowers and the chocolate still on the table. I just pushed it a little back so it won’t fall down when either Rob or I moved around. That would be the usual from me, but I really tried not to kill them just minutes after I got them. When I saw how confused he looked at me I chuckled. “ Not many know it here. ” I shook my head a little with the smile still on my face, answering his silent question.

“ Well, it would be a crime to know about it and not act on it. ” He shrugged a little, smiling again before turning to the guys who were calling after him. I just mouthed a ‘Go’ to him as they were about to go for lunch and I already had my sandwich with me anyways. I watched as he left the room with some of the team and then turned back to my laptop, massaging my face.

I could hear Rob’s snickering and looked up at him with my head in my hands. His laughing and suggestive eyes just made me roll mine before I threw my pen at him. I dodged it when he tried to hit me back with it and didn’t let him win by standing up for it. I rather just stayed in my seat and typed in what I would have written down as I couldn’t find another pen anywhere in my bag. I would rather suffer in silence, than give in to him , even if it was just a little joke. My only hope, to get out of this situation, was Mick getting back quick from lunch so we could leave for the media pen. Turns out I just had to wish for it and it came true just a few minutes later.

“ Ready to go? ” Mick asked, stepping into the room, almost making me feel like we reserved roles and he was the one taking me to the media corner. “ We have time if you’re not done yet. Just thought we could get it over with sooner. ” He added, seeing as I still had my laptop open in front of us.

“ I should be the one asking that, I think. ” I chuckled, raising one of my brows and making him laugh too. “ But we can get going. I can finish this while the race is starting. ” Closing the laptop and sliding it back into my bag I followed him out of the room and through the hallway. There were already people rushing around making it a bit harder to get out of the Haas building.

Monaco was always a bit more packed as there wasn’t that much space than at a normal track. As it was a street circuit they had to fit everything into the city that was already there. Still, it was almost everyone’s favourite destination and a huge part of every F1 season. I couldn’t lie, it was always beautiful here and you sometimes felt like it was partly a vacation. Or at least I did, thanks to my role in the team, giving me quite some free time at least during the race itself. It could get hectic before and after, but at least I didn’t have to go through that and also drive or help the driver through the race. It was probably better that I didn’t even try to get behind the wheel. One turn at the speed they usually do and the car would be a wreck if I was in control of it.

“ Media pen first, then sit downs. ” I told him, letting him step to the first interviewer as I just stood next to him, out of the view. It was almost always the same questions, but at the same time different. I had my favourite reporters who were known for their creativity and also knew who Mick liked to work with, and tried to get some time with them whenever possible.

After the general interviews he had two more with a german and a british reporter a bit away from the crowded areas. As these were sit down ones I had some time to check over the schedule and his trainer who was the next in line to get him ready. Just when I looked up Dan and Aurélie were passing a few people a bit away from us and I raised my hand in a quick greeting when she spotted me too. I wanted to talk to her for a bit today, but knew neither of us had the time for it now. I could just hope we will run into each other again maybe after the race and hopefully before we go back to the hotel. We had ideas for the outing, but none of them were carved into stone and I just wanted to make sure we were planning the same for tonight. When I next looked up from my phone Mick was coming towards me and the audio guys so they could get the microphone off of his collar.

“ One more? ” He asked, taking the bottle of water from me as I answered with a nod, walking to the other set up area. “ Then the warm up and changing. ” He added, making me nod again but look up at him confused a bit.

“ Why do you even need me? ” I asked him, letting out a laugh while crossing off the previous interview, letting everyone know where we were with the plans. “ You know the schedule better than me sometimes. ” He shrugged immediately as a kind of answer. Mick was probably the first driver I knew and was as organized as myself. It still felt strange as most of them were known for relying on everyone else around them, and that was normal. That’s why we were there in the first place.

“ To tell me the schedule so I can learn it, and then make sure I never forget anything. ” He added his answer, making me laugh again before he was called over by the camera crew of the last interview. “ And to keep me sane and calm in every situation. ” He let me take the bottle and I followed with my eyes as he sat down again.

I knew it wouldn’t be long before we had to get back to the motorhome but while he was asked questions I had time to relax a little. Although it wasn’t truly relaxing as I had to check some social media pages and send out one or two messages to the team, letting them know how much time we need before we can get back. I just closed every app when he stepped next to me but not sitting down.

“ Fitting background. ” He said, looking down at the phone in my hand and for a second I forgot what it was. I had to look at it too, but at the sight a smile got on my face without being able to hold it back.

“ You know, it’s a work phone. ” I shrugged, locking the screen so I could slip it into my pocket. It was a photo of him, Pete and I after his first ever F1 race at the start of the season. I would have never told anyone but it may have become my favourite picture since then. “ Who would want a photo like this on their everyday one? ” I scoffed trying to look disgusted, although I knew I most likely failed at it.

“ Ah, yeah. That would be disgusting. ” He rolled his eyes, both of us laughing just a second later as his facial expression cracked me up completely. We were probably the worst pair at holding a straight face when the other or anyone else was joking around. I was just about to speak up again when a hand landed on my shoulder and squeezed it.

“ Welcome home, although you didn’t really leave for long. ” Dan’s voice was easy to recognize and looking up at him I just shook my head a little. “ How was sunny England? ” He asked, making me shake my head already although he has been standing there for just seconds.

“ Quiet. ” I answered looking up at him but then greeting Aurélie with a quick hug. “ It was fine, but I really don’t mind Monaco’s weather after that little holiday. I really don’t know how it can be so grim there. ” I let out a sigh, and stayed standing after letting go of the hug because I knew we would have to get going soon.

“ At least you appreciate it here now. ” Mick shrugged, taking part in the conversation and making me turn my head towards him for a second. “ Not like you don’t otherwise, just… I’m just gonna shut up. ” He shook his head, making me shake my head with a laugh. That was a hole he dug for himself, although I would have never taken what he said wrong.

“ You’re lucky we have to go. ” I patted him on the back, accepting a last fist bump from Dan although his smile seemed strange for a second. “ Drinks tonight then? ” I luckily remembered what I wanted to ask them all day long.

“ Yeah, we can meet in the lobby and go together. ” Aurélie nodded, before her eyes landed on Mick. “ You’re invited too if you would like to come. It’s gonna be us three and George only. ” She offered with a smile and for a second I couldn’t decide how I felt about him being there too.

“ Thank you. I’ll think about it. ” Mick smiled back at her while I sent a questioning look towards her. I never had the chance to ask though as we had to leave and get back to the garage. “ Would you mind me being there? In the end it’s your celebration. ” He asked me, when we were already at the entrance.

“ No. If you’ll have the energy I would be glad to have you there too. ” I shook my head a little but didn’t get to elaborate on the thought as his trainer instantly needed him so they could start their session.

While they were busy I had some time to finish up what I didn’t have time for prior to the interviews. Sitting next to Pete was a bit distracting as they were still discussing parts of the data shown on the screens, but it was almost my only choice. I would usually just take Mick’s driver’s room when he’s not there but that wasn’t a possibility and I had to work with what I had. The exact second I let out a relieved sigh after sending out the last email for the day, my phone decided to light up with a notification. On the verge of a breakdown I opened it up, but calmed down when it appeared to be just a message from Aurélie. ‘ His eyes are mighty fine. Don’t really know how you can look at him without it affecting you. ’ She wrote, making me roll my eyes after reading it.

“ New boy on the horizon? ” Pete asked and my reflexe was turning the device off and pushing it away in just seconds. “ Sorry, it just caught my eye. ” He apologised when I looked up at him but I wasn't really angry with him.

“ It’s okay, but no. There’s no one, just usual girl talk. ” I shrugged a little, but I felt like he didn’t believe me. His facial expressions were always quite telling, even if you only knew him on a stranger level. Spending two years working together made it even more visible. “ What’s up with guys ‘accidentally’ looking at girl’s phones, though? ” I asked, scowling a little as I remembered that this was already the second time today.

“ Well, we’re good observers. ” He shrugged, but his grin gave away how even he knew that was a lie and no one would believe him. There were a few guys who were actually good observers, but never the majority. “ Good luck, mate. ” The next second he was already looking behind me, and from the corner of my eye I could see a hand coming up next to my head for the offered fist bump.

“ Thanks. ” If the hand wasn’t enough from the voice it was obvious who was standing behind me and with a smile I let out fists collide gently too. “ This track needs all the luck I can get. ” He added with a chuckle, already stepping behind the car to get his helmet and gloves on.

Photographing him wasn’t my job, but I couldn’t miss the chance to take a picture of him from my position too, seeing inside his car as the stool made me taller than the car. The fans loved all the pictures they got from us, and even though the team already provided quite the amount, I knew most of my followers were looking forward to the content I was going to upload during the season. Until now there were only a few of him, and there was always someone else on them, and I didn’t plan on changing that any time soon. Still, one picture wouldn’t make me a hypocrite, will it?

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thelarryficrecplace · 5 years ago

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Larry Fics Masterpost - Christmas Edition 2019

Merry Christmas people!! It’s this time of the year again! Following my previous masterpost, I’ve decided to make an updated one!

Here’s some more of my absolutely favourite Christmas fics:

Home for the Holly Days by LadyLondonderry:

Summary: Or, Louis’s participating in the Secret Santa exchange between all the Hogwarts professors stuck at school over the winter holidays, and the Sorting Hat may fancy itself a bit of a matchmaker.

Word count: 2,421

Do Not Falter (There's a Star Ahead) by LadyLondonderry:

Summary: It's Christmas Eve, and every single one of Louis' family members are crowded inside his little flat. Really, what more could he ask for on his birthday?

The present he never knew he wanted - in the form of an omega from his past - might just make this his most memorable Christmas.

Word count: 2,853

You Should Be Here With Me by dimpled_halo:

Summary: Louis is finishing the last touches of his outfit when the doorbell chimes downstairs. He freezes midway through buttoning his shirt. Again, if he’d known what was going to happen today he’d have brought a better outfit, but it’s whatever. He holds his breath, hearing as the door is opened and some murmurs Louis can’t quite make out. He doesn’t miss the deep rumble of Harry’s voice. Louis may not be able to understand what is being said from up here, but that deep voice is unmistakable. It sends shivers through his body.

Louis is home for the holidays and doesn't expect his mum to invite his ex and his family over for Christmas. All the feelings he's had bottled up since breaking up with Harry before going to uni come back in full force.

Word count: 3,000

Snowdrops and Mice Pops by OhHarold:

Summary: The boys are stuck at Hogwarts over Christmas incapable of taking the Hogwarts Express back to London. A botched together friends Christmas would have to do.

Word count: 3,300

Make The Yuletide Gay by hollytabatha:

Summary: Louis has a disdain for Christmas songs and ugly Christmas sweaters, but maybe spending a night with Harry will change that for good.

Word count: 3,411

One Week, Eight Hours by daggerinrose:

Summary: or: a production assistant with no experience in front of a camera interviews a rockstar with old shoes and a distasteful attitude.

Word count: 3,560

Unto You by LadyLondonderry:

Summary: Louis is a lamplighter celebrating the saturnalia season in his own way.Harry is heavily pregnant and new in the city.The holiday of Christmas is yet to be created.

Word count: 3,671

pull your-elf together by EmmyLouWho:

Summary: Or: Santa's Winter Wonderland is a great place to fall in love.

Word count: 3,947

Santa's Lap by larryatendoftheday:

Summary: A Christmas story about unexpected gifts, featuring Harry as a mall Santa and Louis as a great big brother.

Word count: 4,227

Is that a candy cane in your pocket? by kingsofeverything (FullOnLarrie):

Summary: Louis accuses Harry of shoplifting. Harry was definitely not shoplifting.

They work it out.

Word count: 4,868

i'll be yours for christmas by rina_a:

Summary: My family invited you to join our holiday meal as an obvious setup and i’m so sorry.

Word count: 4,874

since we've no place to go (let it snow) by midnights:

Summary: ft. harry flaunting his cooking skills, crying at classic christmas movies, and a dog named george bailey.

Word count: 4,759

Set Your Heart A-Whirl by QuickedWeen:

Summary: Harry comes home for his family's big Christmas party and learns something surprising about his past.

Word count: 4,975

In this light (I fell for you) by Larryfissure:

Summary: Christmas AU where Harry is going to perform his very first concert and Louis is his mute (and very supportive) boyfriend. Also lots of kittens, bad puns and boyfriends being cute.

Word count: 5,334

Sympathy For The Devil by taggiecb:

Summary: Or the one with Santa Harry and Satan Louis and a series of misspelled letters to Santa.

Word count: 5,412

I'll Wait Up For You, Dear by dimpled_halo:

Summary: After not being able to afford to go home for the holidays, Louis is resigned to spend Christmas alone. When he stumbles upon his neighbor, Harry, he realizes he might not be so lonely after all.

Word count: 5,753

I've Got My Love to Keep Me Warm by haloeverlasting:

Summary: Or, Louis' heat is out, Harry's a terrible upstairs neighbor, and an empty Christmas tree is the perfect excuse to fall in love.

Word count: 7,477

You're Never Alone with a Moon this Bright by HelloAmHere:

Summary: Louis was a monster. But sometimes, even monsters get a Christmas.

Word count: 7,619

Rated R by cherrystreet:

Summary: Louis gifts Harry with a surprise sex tape, and it accidentally makes its way into Harry's family Christmas party. Ridiculousness ensues.

Word count: 7,635

A Story For the Ages by FallingLikeThis:

Summary: He should have known it was coming. After seven months of pretending to have a boyfriend in order to keep his mum from meddling in his love life again, he should have realized he’d have to actually introduce her to someone eventually.

Word count: 7,706

Moon Wrapped in Gold Paper by larrymylove:

Summary: The first time Louis meets Harry, several things go very wrong.

Word count: 7,932

A Christmas Wish by Snowy38:

Summary: "So when are you going to tell him?"

Louis pursed his lips at his sister, his Skype video call relaying his thoughts on that subject perfectly.

"Next question," he mused.

Lottie rolled her eyes.

"It's your birthday in four days, Louis."

"What difference does that make?" He scoffed.

She shrugged.

"You can get drunk and confess how you feel and take it back afterwards if he doesn't feel the same."

That might work if Louis wasn't in love with Harry. But Lottie didn't know that and she didn't need to find out.

"Thanks Lots," he said anyway.

"Seriously Lou what's stopping you?"

Louis sighed.

"Fear mostly."

Word count: 8,780

Meet Me Underneath The Mistletoe by 4ureyesonly28:

Summary: Louis flies out to Chicago for business just before Christmas... His flight home is cancelled because of a snow storm and he ends up going to his colleague Niall's Christmas party where he meets the most gorgeous man he's ever seen. And if they end up under the mistletoe within less than an hour then that's nobody's business but theirs.

Word count: 8,831

There's really nothing better (than a beautiful boy in an ugly Christmas sweater) by we_are_the_same:

Summary: In the weeks leading up to Christmas, Louis takes on a few more shifts at his part time job to be able to buy Christmas presents for his family and friends. In comes Harry, who might be everything Louis had never asked for. Featuring ugly Christmas Sweaters, too many Christmas songs, and not enough snow.

Word count: 9,087

you've set my soul to dreaming by we_are_the_same:

Summary: Or: Thirty year old Harry Styles goes to bed single on Christmas Eve, only to wake up on Christmas morning with a husband in his bed and a son down the hall.

Word count: 9,279

Make The Yuletide Gay by flowercrownfemme:

Summary: A Christmas In Connecticut AU in which Louis is a mommy blogger, Harry is a pop star, and nobody's really what they seem. Featuring a lot of lying, tons of domesticity, some badly faked heterosexuality, and a few Christmas kisses.

Word count: 9,769

sidewalk angels echo hallelujah by nooelgallagher:

Summary: When Louis' dog goes missing 7 days before Christmas, he doesn't have much hope for a Christmas reunion. But miracles come in all shapes and sizes, and Harry just might take the form of his.

Word count: 9,978

Brighten My Northern Sky by twoshipstiedup:

Summary: Harry, Louis, a phone number and fate

Word count: 10,030

make my wish come true by flicker_album:

Summary: Or the one where Louis starts decorating for Christmas in November and Harry indulges him.

Word count: 10,137

The Clock Strikes Christmas by jacaranda_bloom:

Summary: OR the one where Louis needs someone to love, Harry needs a miracle, and sometimes, wishes really do come true.

Word count: 10,498

Candy Cane Eyes by larryent:

Summary: It’s the Christmas season in New York City. There are far too many mistletoes hanging in Harry's apartment building and there is a pair of mischievous candy cane blue eyes who is responsible.

Word count: 10,703

and marshmallows by BriaMaria:

Summary: The one where Harry has a personal attachment to Louis' house, and Louis can't stop picturing the beautiful stranger dancing in his kitchen.

Word count: 10,729

Take Your Time by Layne Faire (HisDarlin):

Summary: When Harry finds himself in the middle of a messy break-up with no place to live, Louis offers a spare room in his flat. Unbeknownst to Harry, Louis has been infatuated for years. Over the objections of their friends, who know the truth, Harry accepts. Can Louis survive Harry moving into his home…and closer to his heart? Will Harry see what's right in front of him?

Word count: 11,556

Maybe I'm Crazy To Suppose by twoshipstiedup:

Summary: A breakup before Christmas sends Harry back to a place he'd been avoiding for years.

One night with a stranger makes him want to stay.

Word count: 12,665

If the Fates Allow by afirethatcannotdie:

Summary: Louis yells at a stranger in a shop and a few days later, needs his help. Desperately. Then he discovers he’s kind of in love with him.

Word count: 13,039

The Christmas Lift by homosociallyyours:

Summary: Louis lies about having a boyfriend to avoid being set up on a blind date by an overzealous co-worker, but now he's in desperate need of a fake boyfriend for his office holiday party. He’s complaining about it on the phone to Liam when Harry, his unknown but hot neighbor, overhears him in the lift and offers to help.

It doesn't take long for Louis to realize he wishes things weren't quite so fake, but he's afraid it'll take a Christmas miracle to make anything happen.

Word count: 13,150

Christmas, Baby by nikogda:

Summary: Or, The one where the exact thing that Harry thinks is derailing his life plan might be exactly what he needs.

Word count: 13,191

Wrap me up in your Love by wickedarcher_08:

Summary: Or the one where Louis is pregnant and keeps getting interrupted in the most obscure ways every time he tries to tell Harry.

Word count: 13,223

to the light by fondleeds:

Summary: AU. Harry is a mermaid lost at sea and Louis is a boy determined to make his first Christmas a memorable one.

Word count: 13,304

Moments Stay When People Leave... by lovelarry10:

Summary: Harry gets lost in the memories of the best relationship he'd ever had, and then threw away, breaking two hearts. He makes a decision just before Christmas, and can only hope Louis feels the same...

Word count: 13,855

All I Want Is You (This Christmas) by Dont_Stop_Larry:

Summary: Harry broke up with Louis early in 2014. Louis is trying to figure out life without Harry. Being stuck together on a Christmas vacation might just mend everything.

Word count: 14,019

Come What May by sincewewereeighteen:

Summary: The one in which Harry and Louis have been separated for almost a year, but their kids ask Santa to bring them together again.

Word count: 14,049

Made From Love by lovelarry10:

Summary: It's almost Christmas, and amongst the preparations, Louis' realised something about his husband Harry.

Harry, however, seems to be oblivious.

Louis' determined to open Harry's eyes and make him realise the real magic that's happening this Christmas...

Word count: 14,690

This Winter's Day by QuickedWeen :

Summary: Louis is Harry's stablemaster, and when he falls ill and his mother turns to Harry to help her try and find someone he can settle down with, it's only natural that Harry suggests himself.

Word count: 14,871

The Lights Will Guide You Home by Dont_Stop_Larry:

Summary: The one where two oblivious men haven’t quite figured it out yet - but it may be too late for them.

Word count: 16,916

Christmas at the Holly Lodge by lululawrence:

Summary: Or the one where Louis is the owner of the Holly Lodge, Harry is an investment advisor, and maybe Christmas miracles really do exist.

Word count: 17,387

Make You Feel My Love by rainbowslovehl (Larrymateforlife):

Summary: Harry decides the best way to go about telling his best friend that he's in love with him is to catch him under a conveniently placed mistletoe but that's not what happens.

Word count: 17,442

My Only Wish by rainbowslovehl (Larrymateforlife):

Summary: Or an Secret Santa AU where Louis doesn’t know how it works and keeps giving Harry gifts and being not so obvious about his flirting.

Word count: 17,918

An Aurora Grove Christmas by dandelionfairies:

Summary: Harry gets lost on his way to St. Louis. The roads are horrid because of the snow and he ends up spinning into a ditch. Lucky for him, he finds a cabin nearby, as well as a cute blue-eyed man who immediately helps him. Unfortunately, his car is stuck for the night, but at least he has a place to stay with Louis. With the snow continuing to fall and another storm front coming through, will he ever make it out of Aurora Grove? Does he even want to?

Word count: 17,930

Holiday Greetings (And Gay Happy Meetings) by 2tiedships2:

Summary: Or the one where Niall's dead car and and a foot of snow conspire to force Louis into spending time with an alpha he hates.... or does he?

Word count: 18,474

Part 2 here

This Winter Dream by hopeneverdies:

Summary: Louis Tomlinson is on his way home from New York City to spend Christmas with his family, but his trip is temporarily halted when his car breaks down in a small town upstate. A lonely barista, named Harry, offers him a place to stay for the night. It doesn't take long before Louis wants to offer something to Harry in return.

Word count: 19,065

Reindeer Games by Throwthemflowers:

Summary: Louis is a disgruntled elf and Harry is one of Santa’s reindeer. Featuring classic miscommunication, heaps of unrequited pining, gratuitous smut (with a bit of, shall we say, horseplay), a pinch of NYC holiday magic, and a sickening amount of Christmas Spirit.

Word count: 19,639

Six Weeks by LadyLondonderry:

Summary: When Harry takes the afternoon shift at the cafe, he meets a boy who drinks a lot of tea and never remembers his umbrella.

Word count: 20,023

All I Want For Christmas (Is Lou) by wickedarcher_08:

Summary: Or the one where Harry and Louis are each others Secret Santa

Word count: 20,550

So Put Your Hands In (The Holes of My Sweater) by Kat_rawr:

Summary: Harry and Louis go on a lot of not-dates.

Word count: 21,355

Better Not Pout, I'm Telling You Why by runaway_train:

Summary: The one where Harry still believes in Santa Claus and Louis doesn't want to be the one to burst his bubble.

Word count: 24,545

Lovin' you is a gift by messofgorgeouschaos:

Summary: With his 28th birthday approaching, Louis was looking forward to celebrating in New York City with an all-expenses paid trip. He just didn't expect to spend it with an escort when he suddenly finds himself single a few days before it. A Pretty Woman AU.

Word count: 25,462

Waited All Year To Be Near by lovelarry10:

Summary: Harry’s preparing for the holidays at home with his four children while Louis is deployed. All he wants is his husband home for Christmas. But Louis’ half a world away...

Word count: 27,399

Let It Snow by crescentmoonshine:

Summary: Four years, four disastrous Christmas parties, four disastrous attempts to get it right.

Word count: 27,858

Like Candy In My Veins by littlelouishiccups:

Summary: Basically the A/B/O, enemies to lovers, fake relationship, Christmas AU that nobody asked for.

Word count: 31,880

From the Start by Anonymous:

Summary: Louis has no idea that one act of kindness will cause his life to spiral out of control. But that's what happens when his new friend fake proposes to him and a video of it goes viral.

Word count: 32,185

Frosted Kisses by bromanceorromance:

Summary: Harry and Niall run a bakery called Sweet Cheeks. Louis is in line to become the next Santa Claus, but his best friend, Zayn, is the only one that knows. Louis wants Harry as soon as he sees him, but he's not ready to interrupt Harry's life with the "I'm the next Santa" news until it's almost too late.

Word count: 34,135

Latching Onto You by reminiscingintherain:

Summary: Or, the one where Louis wants to book Harry Styles to perform at his best friends' wedding.

Word count: 34,313

Find You Home by kingsofeverything (FullOnLarrie):

Summary: When Louis lies to his family and says he’ll bring his new boyfriend home for Christmas, his best friend and roommate Harry agrees to play the part. It’s that, or be left alone over the holidays.

What will happen? No one knows! Perhaps Santa will swoop in with a Christmas miracle.

Featuring lovesick idiots, kissing and cuddling, pies and Christmas clichés.

Word count: 35,388

Feels Like Christmas by lovelarry10:

Summary: Harry Styles has always loved Christmas - it’s his favourite holiday, but there’s always been something missing.

Louis Tomlinson has been running from his pain, and is determined to ignore the holidays once more, choosing to spend them in solitude.

When they meet - entirely by chance - it could be just what they both need this Christmas...

Word count: 49,630

the impossible now by stylinsoncity:

Summary: A wish on Christmas Eve sends Louis to an alternate dimension where Harry is a member of One Direction.

Word count: 64,839

978 notes · View notes

myownsuperintendent · 4 years ago

Text

Fic: “Through the Years”

Scully, Mulder, Emily, and William experience life as a family through the years. Family fluff. I moved Baby #3 up five-ish years to make it less ridiculous. Rated T for mild sexual content. Also here at Ao3.

.....

They come up the stairs to her apartment, Scully carrying the bags. “This is it,” she says. “This is…this’ll be home.” Emily doesn’t say anything; she’s been quiet since they got on the plane this morning. Scully tried talking to her, pointing to the clouds and the tiny houses below, telling her about the fun things they’d do once they got to Washington. Eventually she let her sleep. She knows this won’t be perfect, not all at once. But she can’t help it: she has so much hope.

“Do you want to go in?” she asks. “See your room?” Emily nods, after a moment, and Scully unlocks the door and goes in.

Emily’s room should be ready, even though Scully’s been staying out in California with her. They ordered furniture from a catalogue—she let Emily pick out her new bed and sheets—and they packed up the things from Emily’s old room and had them shipped. She wanted it to be here for Emily when they arrived. Mulder’s been a help to her with all of it; he came over to her place to supervise the delivery. “Everything accounted for,” he told her over the phone yesterday. “I didn’t even injure myself setting up the bed.”

She laughed. “Thank you,” she said. “Really, thank you so much for…for everything you’ve done.” She hasn’t said anything to him, but she is worried that this will change things between them; she knows she won’t be able to travel as much, for one thing, and so the way they work will have to be different. She worried he might resent that, but so far there aren’t any signs of it; he seems as excited about the new direction her life is taking as she does.

“It’s nothing, Scully,” he said. “Any way I can help. Let me know.”

“Thank you,” she repeated, softly, because she couldn’t think of anything else to say.

And when she opens the door to what used to be a spare room, a place for her to store extra books, it’s Emily’s bedroom: everything they picked out is there. The new sheets are on the new bed, Emily’s picture books and stuffed animals are on the shelves, and there’s a night light on the wall. “Here we are, sweetie,” she says. “What do you think?”

Emily goes over to the bed. “What’s that?” she asks.

Scully looks; there’s a teddy bear sitting in the center of the bed, along with a little book. A card is propped against the bear. “Looks like it might be a present for you,” she says. “Should we read the card?” Emily nods, and Scully opens it. “Dear Emily,” she reads. “I hope you like your new room. Since I missed your birthday and Christmas this year, I wanted to give you some belated presents. Maybe I’ll see you soon. Mulder.”

Emily’s already holding the bear. “What’s belated?”

“It means late,” Scully explains. “Since it’s after your birthday and Christmas.” He didn’t have to get Emily presents at all, of course. He didn’t have to, but he did.

“Can we read the book?” Emily asks.

“Sure we can,” Scully says. She takes a seat on the bed, and Emily leans against her; she’s shy sometimes, but she seems to like this kind of proximity when Scully is reading to her. They do that a lot, because sometimes it’s the simplest way for them to be together: one that doesn’t bring up any troubles or uncertainties. The book Mulder gave Emily is called The Little Fur Family, and it has a fuzzy cover, which Emily touches gently while Scully reads.

When the book is finished, Scully shows Emily the rest of the apartment; Emily follows her, still not saying much. She carries the bear under her arm. “His name is Buttons,” she says, while they’re eating supper (Scully really needs to get groceries, after a month and a half spent in California, but luckily she found a box of macaroni and cheese in the cabinet).

“That’s a good name,” Scully says. “Would you like to call Mulder after we eat? I want to tell him we’re back, and you could tell him that you named Buttons.”

“Okay,” Emily says.

Mulder answers quickly when she calls. “Hey, Scully,” he says. “You home?”

“We’re home,” she confirms, looking down at Emily, who is sitting next to her on the couch. “Thank you for setting up the room. It looks wonderful.”

“Really, it was no trouble,” he says. “Glad to do it. Did Emily see her presents?”

“She did,” Scully says. “She has something she wants to say to you.” She hands Emily the phone.

“Hi,” Emily says, her voice coming out whispery. “Thank you…The bear’s name is Buttons.” She seems to have run out to things to say now; she looks up at Scully questioningly, and Scully takes back the phone.

“She really likes them,” she says. “Thank you so much, Mulder. You really didn’t have to.”

“I wanted to,” he says. “She deserves them.”

Scully smiles. “Well, thank you. I want to…I think we’ll take the next couple of days to settle in, the two of us. But after that…we’ll see you soon?”

“Of course,” he says, and she’s happy, when she hangs up the phone.

Emily wants to read The Little Fur Family again before bed, and Scully reads it to her before tucking her in, pulling the new comforter gently up under her chin. “Sleep well,” she says. “You remember where my room is?” Emily nods, sleepily. “Well, I’ll be right in there if you need me. I’ll leave the door open.” Emily nods again. “Good night, Emily. I love you.” She hugs her daughter tightly. She still can’t believe it all.

“Good night, Dana,” Emily says, in her soft voice, and Scully kisses her cheek and turns out the light.

It takes her a while to settle down—aside from the events of the day, her body’s still on California time—but she’s asleep herself when she hears Emily’s voice, suddenly. She sits up, trying not to panic, and turns on the light next to her bed; Emily’s standing next to it, crying. “Dana,” she says, “I had a bad dream.”

“Oh, sweetheart,” Scully says, jumping out of bed, stooping down next to Emily, putting her arms around her. “It’s all right now. I’m right here. I’m right here.”

“My mommy…” Emily sobs, in the most heartbreaking voice Scully has ever heard.

“I know, sweetheart,” she says. “I know it makes you sad.”

She walks Emily back to bed, tucking her in again, drying her tears and stroking her hair. “I’ll stay with you until you fall asleep again,” she says. “How does that sound?”

“Okay,” Emily says, still with a choke in her voice.

“I’m right here,” she says again. “And I love you so much.”

She lies down next to Emily, although there isn’t much space on the little bed. She strokes her hair back and forth, humming a lullaby off-key. She isn’t sure when Emily falls asleep. At some point she falls asleep too.

.....

Scully’s mom called to say that she’ll be late—there’s a lot of traffic—so the three of them are waiting in the living room now. Emily’s huddled into a corner of the couch. “Where are you going?” she asks, not for the first time this afternoon.

“To dinner, sweetie,” Scully says. “But you’ll have lots of fun with Grandma. And we’ll be back later.” Mulder nods.

“Why can’t I come?” Emily asks.

Scully isn’t sure what to tell her. She kissed Mulder for the first time a month and a half ago—on this very couch, while Emily was sleeping down the hall, after the three of them had spent the day together—and since then the two of them have been, well, dating she guesses is the word for it, although it feels a little simplistic considering the history of their relationship. So far it’s going well. More than well. But she hasn’t wanted to tell Emily yet, just in case. She knows it’s not a good idea to introduce things like this into kids’ lives too quickly. And that’s even in cases where those children haven’t already gone through a lot of upheaval.

So she just says, “Mulder and I are going to spend a little time just the two of us. Because we’re friends and—”

“Mulder’s my friend too,” Emily says. “Aren’t you?” she adds, quickly, glancing up at him.

“Of course I am, Em,” he says. “What I think your mom is saying—”

“Why don’t you stay here anymore, then?” Emily asks. “Why don’t we all play together? We used to, and now…now we don’t!” And she bursts into tears then, her face pressed against the cushion. “Why doesn’t Mulder stay?” she asks again, sobbing.

Scully scoops her up, feeling horrible. Emily has a point: it used to always be the three of them, whenever Mulder came over, and now it isn’t, not always. She’d thought they were still spending plenty of time together aside from their dates, but apparently it isn’t enough for Emily. She’d thought she was protecting Emily from change; instead, she’s just made it worse.

“Oh, Emily,” she says. “I’m so sorry. Don’t cry, sweetie.”

“We didn’t mean to make you sad, Em,” Mulder adds, hovering over them, looking as upset as she feels.

“Why…do you…eat dinner…without…me?” Emily asks, in between sobs.

Scully makes a snap parenting the decision, the kind she’s had to make a lot of since last year and doesn’t feel used to yet. But she’s hoping the truth will be less painful for Emily. “Emily, Mulder and I…we’ve been going on dates. Do you know what that means?”

“No,” Emily says.

Scully tries to think of an explanation that will be within Emily’s frame of reference. She’s seen a number of Disney movies, which have probably been her biggest exposure to romance, but they tend to go for the love at first sight angle. But she can’t think of anything better, not quickly enough, anyway, with Emily still crying in her lap. “You know in Beauty and the Beast,” she says, “when they eat breakfast together and they play in the snow? And then they dance?” From the way Mulder is looking at her, she guesses she sounds insane.

But Emily latches on to the explanation. “Oh,” she says. “So it’s like falling in love?”

“Well…” Scully begins. She hasn’t used that word yet, with Mulder. She’s thought about it, but she hasn’t said it out loud.

Emily hasn’t stopped talking, though. She turns to Mulder now. “Do you love Mommy?”

Scully’s breath catches. But before she can say anything, tell Emily that she shouldn’t ask that, Mulder speaks. “I do.”

“Oh. That’s good,” Emily says, although Scully’s only dimly aware of it. “But why does that mean we can’t have dinner together?” She wipes her eyes.

“We…we can,” Scully manages. “We just…we didn’t tell you everything before, because we thought it would be a surprise for you.”

Emily looks at her, her head tipped to one size. “No,” she says, finally. “Not a surprise.” Scully is beginning to get a little annoyed with this kind of reaction. Her mom (“Well, it’s about time, dear”) was one thing, and Skinner’s knowing look when he bumped into them holding hands last weekend was another. But to have her four-year-old daughter tell her that it’s not a surprise…At least Emily looks happier now, though, and Scully gives her a hug.

“How about we stay home tonight, after all?” she says. “And when Grandma gets here, we can all have dinner together.” She gives Mulder a half-apologetic look, but he doesn’t seem upset at all. And looking at him makes her think of what he just said. He loves me, she thinks. She has to tell him; she can’t let him think it’s all on one side. But there’s Emily sitting right in between them.

She gets her chance soon enough, though. Her mom arrives, and Emily wants to show her the drawings she did in preschool that day, and Mulder offers to help Scully make dinner. He follows her into the kitchen, standing close to her as she takes vegetables out of the refrigerator and pasta out of the cabinet. “I didn’t plan to tell you like that,” he says. His voice is soft, almost self-conscious.

She turns and smiles at him. “I’m not complaining. Maybe Emily knows how to run this thing better than we do.” She steps up, takes his hand. “I love you too,” she says, the words coming out in a breath.

“Yeah?” he says.

“Yeah,” she says. “Really.” His smile makes her feel warm. And she stretches up and kisses him, fairly chastely since her mom and Emily are right there, but hoping he’ll get the intention behind it. From the way he holds her, his arms tightly around her waist, she thinks he does.

Emily comes running into the kitchen then. “What are we having?” she asks.

“Spaghetti and vegetables,” Scully tells her.

“You want to help me and your mom?” Mulder asks. He hoists her up into the air, and she shrieks with joy. Scully knows how she feels.

.....

Mulder hears the door creak open, and Emily bounds in, landing on the foot of the bed. “Good morning.”

“Good morning, Emily,” Scully says. “Remember that talk we had? About knocking?” They’re both fully clothed, because they know she’ll forget, but they’re hoping the message will sink in one of these days.

“Sorry,” Emily says. “I did remember. But I was just excited for today.”

“So’re we,” Mulder says. He ruffles her hair as she slides up to lie between them.

“What time are we going?” she asks.

“Our appointment’s at eleven,” Scully says. “So we have three hours.”

“That’s so long,” Emily says, pouting. “Three whole hours?”

“It’ll go faster than you think,” Mulder says, even though he secretly agrees. “Should we get up and have breakfast?”

Making breakfast distracts Emily a little, although he can tell that she’s still excited; she bounces up and down and pours extra maple syrup onto the pancakes. Scully catches his eye and smiles, and he smiles back at her. Emily’s right. It’s a momentous day.

They’re out of the house at last, in the car, driving to the courthouse. They’ve all dressed nicely; he’s wearing a suit, and Emily is wearing the blue dress they got her for the wedding. She’s still smiling, although Mulder’s a little nervous, and he thinks Scully is too. He doesn’t know why they should be—they were told that this second hearing was largely a formality—but maybe because it means so much. They each take one of Emily’s hands as they walk into the courthouse, and she looks up at them. Her face is serious now; maybe she’s caught the mood.

But everything goes as it should, as they’ve been told it would. They leave the courthouse with a copy of the adoption certificate: his name is on it, listed as Emily’s father. She’s already been calling him her dad since he and Scully got married, but it means something that now it’s official. They all feel it. He stoops to hug Emily before they get back in the car, kissing the top of her head.

They go out for lunch afterwards, and they get ice cream too; that’s part of his job as Emily’s dad, he thinks, buying her ice cream. She sits by his side in the restaurant booth, scraping the bowl with her spoon, and leans against his shoulder.

When the waitress brings the check, he says to her, “Would you mind taking a picture of the three of us?”

“Sure,” she says. “Not at all.”

They hang it on the refrigerator, the picture of him and Scully and Emily, all sitting together, all smiling. A family in print.

.....

William’s the most incredible thing Mulder’s ever seen—and he’s seen a lot of incredible things. He’s been alive for twelve hours now, and the novelty hasn’t worn off one bit in that time. He can’t take his eyes off his son, a tiny bundle in Scully’s arms.

“Hi there,” Scully says to William, who’s staring up at them both. His eyes are blue. “Do you know that we love you more than anything? Because we really, really do.”

“Your mom’s right,” Mulder says. William yawns, and he marvels. “He just…he’s amazing, Scully.”

“Isn’t he?” She looks exhausted and overjoyed.

Maggie stayed with Emily overnight, but they should be on their way to the hospital now. Mulder wonders how Emily’s going to take to her brother. A part of him can’t imagine anyone not adoring William, but he knows that Emily’s been anxious about not being the only child anymore. Especially during the last few months of Scully’s pregnancy, she clung to the two of them, wanting seemingly constant attention. “Will you love me as much as the baby?” she asked, only a few days ago, and even though they told her that of course they would, trying to reassure her with hugs and soothing words, she still looked unsure.

There’s a tap at the door to the hospital room. “May we come in?” Maggie’s voice.

“Yes, come on in!” Scully calls.

The door opens, revealing Maggie and Emily, who’s clinging tightly to a bunch of flowers. “Mommy! Daddy!” she says. “I missed you.”

“We missed you too, sweetie,” Scully says. Mulder takes William, and she holds out her arms. “Come here so I can give you a hug.”

“Gently,” Mulder adds, as Emily runs towards her mother. She stops for a minute and then slows her steps, giving Scully a careful hug.

“We brought you flowers,” she says, as if just remembering; the bouquet is a little crushed now from the hug, but Scully takes it anyway, smiling.

“They’re so beautiful,” she says. “Did you pick them out with Grandma?” Emily nods, and Scully kisses her cheek. “Well, thank you both so much.”

Emily’s looking up at William. “Is that him?” she asks.

“Yes,” Scully says. “That’s your brother. Do you know what his name is?”

“William,” Emily says. “Grandma told me. After she talked to Daddy on the phone.”

“That’s right,” Scully says. “Do you want to say hello to him?”

“Okay,” Emily says. They all crowd around; Mulder moves, carefully, to sit on the bed next to Scully and Emily, and Maggie comes by too, wanting to get a look at her grandson.

“This is William,” he says, softly. “William, this is your grandmother. And this is your big sister, Emily.”

“Oh, he’s so sweet!” Maggie exclaims. “Look at that face! I think he looks like you, Dana.”

“I think so too,” Mulder says.

Emily is staring. “He’s so little,” she says finally, in a soft, awed voice. “I didn’t know he’d be so little.”

“Well, he’s brand new,” Scully says. “Not even a whole day old. Do you want to say hi to him?”

“Hi,” Emily says. Her voice is still soft, almost a whisper and very, very gentle. “Hi, baby William. I’m Emily. You’re so, so little.” She looks up at them. “His hands are so little.”

“They are,” Mulder says. “If you touch his hand with your finger, he’ll grab it.”

Emily looks astonished. “Will he, really?”

“Try and see,” Mulder says.

Emily places her index finger gently against William’s hand, and his own fingers curl around it, gripping tightly. “Wow,” she says. “Wow.”

“Would you like to try holding him for a little bit?” Scully asks.

“Oh,” Emily says, “oh, could I?” There’s longing in her voice.

“Why don’t you sit in the chair,” Mulder says, “and I’ll bring him over to you?” Emily nods quickly, taking a seat in the chair next to the bed, and Mulder hands her William, carefully, supporting her arms with his own at first. “You have to keep one hand under his head,” he tells her. “Like this, see?” Emily nods seriously, mimicking what he’s doing. Even when he takes his arms away, he hovers near the chair. Emily’s right: William is so little, and so precious.

“I’m your big sister,” Emily is saying to William. “Your big sister. And I’m going to take care of you. Because you’re so little.”

So far, so good, Mulder thinks. She doesn’t seem like she’s upset about William being here. He looks at Scully, who’s watching Emily hold her brother with an incredible smile on her face. He bends over to kiss her cheek.

They go home from the hospital the next afternoon. They settle William into his crib, and then Mulder helps Scully get settled too, putting her things away for her, arranging her pillows until he’s sure that she’s comfortable. “Mulder,” she says. “You don’t have to do all of this.”

“You just had a baby, Scully,” he points out. “Two days ago, in fact. You know, I couldn’t do what you did.”

“Yeah,” Scully says, grinning. “I don’t think that’s physically possible.”

“You know what I mean,” he says. “You’re incredible. A force of nature. And you deserve to rest now. While William’s sleeping. You will rest, won’t you?”

“Yes,” she says. “I’ll rest. Since William’s sleeping, and all.” He can tell she’s tired from her voice, from the way she settles back on the bed. He leaves her to sleep then, thinking he’ll look in on William. He wants to make sure everything’s okay with him.

As he heads toward the nursery, he can hear Emily’s voice. Hoping she’s not waking William up, he opens the door carefully. William’s awake, but he’s not crying or fussing, just staring at his sister. She has her face pressed up against the bars of the crib, and she’s reading aloud. Mulder can see the book in her hands. The Little Fur Family.

“Em?” he says. “What are you doing, sweetie?”

She turns to look at him. “I’m just reading to him. To keep him company. He likes the book.”

Mulder smiles at her. “Can I sit with the two of you?”

“Yes,” Emily says, and Mulder takes a seat in the rocking chair, his eyes on his children. Emily finishes the book, closing the covers carefully. “I can read you another book later,” she says to William. “I have a lot of good ones.” He blinks at her, and she turns to Mulder. “Daddy?”

“Yes, Emily?”

“I really love him,” she says. “I think I’m going to love him forever.”

“Me too,” Mulder says. He stoops down and hugs her. “And I’m going to love you forever too.”

They sit quietly in the nursery, the three of them, until Scully comes in to join them. She feeds William, then, while Mulder gets dinner together for the rest of them. He’s tired too—he can feel it, somewhere in the back of his mind—but right now he doesn’t care.

.....

It’s one of those days when William just keeps fussing and fussing. Emily usually likes to play with him, but not right now, not when he just cries whatever she does. Mommy says that he might be getting new teeth; she’s trying to get him to stop crying by giving him things to chew on. But Emily’s tired of it, right now, so she goes to see if she can find Daddy.

She finds him sitting on the back steps, looking out at the yard. She sits down next to him. “Hi,” she says.

“Hi, Em,” he says. He doesn’t look at her when he says it, so she tries to figure out what he is looking at. The flowers, she thinks.

“Are those the ones you planted?” she asks. “For…for Samantha?” She isn’t sure if she should say Aunt Samantha, because Samantha was Daddy’s sister and that would make her Emily’s aunt, if she were here, but Emily never met her. She died a long time ago, she knows. That’s why Daddy planted the flowers when they moved into the house, earlier this year, and Mommy helped. They planted them at the house, because Samantha was dead but Daddy didn’t have a cemetary to visit for her, like you do with most dead people. Emily couldn’t see them then—they were just seeds—but now she can; they’re bright yellow ones.

Daddy nods. “Yes.”

“They’re pretty,” she says. “Do they make you sad, though? To look at?” His face looks a little sad.

“The flowers? They don’t make me sad, exactly,” Daddy says. “They just make me think about Samantha. And that makes me sad, sometimes. Because I miss her.”

Emily nods. “I’m still sad when I think about my other mommy and daddy, sometimes,” she says. “Even though that was a long time ago too.”

Daddy puts an arm around her. “I think we all feel sad,” he says, “when we think about people we miss.”

“Was it a really long time ago?” Emily asks. “When she died, I mean.” She thinks it must be, because she’s seen a picture of Daddy with Samantha, and he was only a kid in it. An older kid, but still.

“Yes, a long time ago,” Daddy says.

“How old were you?” Emily asks.

“Well, I was twelve the last time I saw her,” Daddy says. “And she was eight then.”

Eight’s not a lot bigger than Emily. She doesn’t really like to think about it. “Did you play together?” she asks. “Like me and William?”

“We did,” Daddy says. “Sometimes we’d play outside, on nice days like this. That’s why I decided to come out to look at the flowers. Just to remember her. Just to think.”

Sometimes people like you to be quiet when they think, Emily knows. “Do you want me to go back inside?” she asks. “So you can think?”

He smiles at her. “No, that’s okay, Em. You’re not keeping me from thinking.”

They sit and look at the flowers together then. “I think they’re really pretty,” Emily says. “I bet she would like them so much.” Daddy doesn’t say anything. “Would we all play together?” she asks. “If she were here?”

He smiles at her, but his eyes look sad. “I bet we would,” he says, and he hugs her tight.

She hugs him back. “It’s okay to be sad,” she says, because Mommy and Daddy tell her that sometimes.

“Yeah, Em,” he says. “You’re right.”

They sit there for a while longer, and when they go back inside she gives William a hug too. Because he is her brother, even if he fusses a lot.

.....

It's been a busy several weeks. They’ve both been swamped at work, and then the kids have been passing a series of bugs back and forth between them. Scully knows it’s entirely out of their control, but after the third week of sniffling and coughing she wondered if they were doing something like licking the walls in the school bathrooms. Childhood illnesses are something she’s equipped to deal with, and she’s very grateful that her children are facing nothing worse, but that doesn’t make it any more fun.

She’s barely had any time to spend with Mulder, either, outside of the daily round. They’ve been tag teaming work and childcare and housework (the latter pretty minimal at this point), but something’s had to give, and unfortunately that something’s proved to be them as a couple. They’re too exhaused, most nights, to do anything more than smile at each other over the dinner table and then fall asleep as soon as their heads touch the pillow. She remembers days in the office, in the car together, in motel rooms, when she was sure she was going to die if she didn’t get to touch him. Now she’s got the chance, and she doesn’t have the energy to take advantage of it.

She tucks in Emily one night; she thinks Emily’s getting over whatever she has, although she doesn’t want to count on anything by now. “Are you feeling any better, sweetie?” she asks.

“I think so,” Emily says. She still sounds congested, but not as much as she did yesterday.

“Well, I’m sure sleep will help you,” Scully says. “Good night, Emily.”

“Good night, Mom,” Emily says. Scully turns out the light and leaves the room.

Mulder’s sitting on their bed, working on something on his computer. “Hey,” he says, when she comes in. “Just trying to get this lesson plan done. Sorry.”

“It’s okay,” she says. She opens her drawer to look for pajamas. “I’m behind on that too.” She sighs.

Mulder looks up. “You doing okay?” he asks. “I mean, I guess none of us are doing great right now, but under the circumstances?”

“Yeah, I’m okay,” she says. She flops down next to him, just for a minute, and promises herself she won’t fall asleep in her clothes. At least tomorrow’s Saturday, thank goodness. “I just hate feeling like I’m dropping the ball.”

“You’re not dropping the ball,” Mulder says. “Life happens to everyone.”

She knows he means it. She knows she should accept the comfort. She thinks it’s probably easier to extend yourself that kind of grace when you’re not trying to be a woman in a workplace that’s still dominated by men. When your male students don’t talk to you with condescenscion. When you’re not being told what you have to do to be a good agent and what you have to do to be a good mother and finding impossible gaps in between them. She knows if she told Mulder this he would listen. But she doesn’t feel like it.

“I guess,” she says.

“Also,” he says, “I know we haven’t had much time to think about it, but do you have any ideas about what you want to do next Sunday?”

Sleep for fifteen hours, she thinks. “Is something going on next Sunday?”

“Yeah,” he says, “our anniversary.”

Shit, she’s an idiot. Add good wife to the list of impossible roles she’s trying to play right now. “I lost track of the dates. Sorry.”

“Hey,” he says. “It’s okay.” He kisses her cheek.

“It’s not okay,” she says. “I just…I wish we had more time for us.”

“We’ll get through this,” he says. “The kids are getting over their…whatever it is they have this time. And then we’ll catch up on work and…we’ll get through this.”

She knows he’s right, even if it doesn’t feel like it right now. “I’ll think about next Sunday,” she says. “Try to come up with something.”

“Surprise me,” he says. “You’re good at that.”

“You’re good at it too,” she says. He’s never stopped surprising her, in all these years together. That’s one thing she can be glad about.

They don’t talk about it more right then, because they’re still exhausted. He finishes up the lesson plan, and she puts on her pajamas, and they both fall into bed.

Scully does try to think about their anniversary though, in between all the other things that make up her day. What she’d really like would be just for the two of them to have some time alone together, some time to relax and enjoy each other—that seems special enough right now. Maybe she can enlist her mom, she thinks, get her to take Emily and William for the day. She calls her, in between classes, and her mom says she’s happy to do it, that she’d expected to be asked, even. So that’s one part of the problem solved. Now she just has to figure out what to do with the rest of the time, if she should plan something or just let it unroll spontaneously. She doesn’t want to half-ass things, but then sometimes the spontaneous days, with the two of them, are the best ones.

She doesn’t have that much time to dwell on it over the course of the week, though. Emily and William are both healthy again, back in school, but that means extra time to devote to catching up on the work she let slide when they were sick. In her spare time, she wonders if Mulder is planning anything. It would be nice to let someone else do the work for once. Still, she wants him to know how much she appreciates him too.

And before she knows it, it’s Saturday night, and she still hasn’t come up with much of anything. At least she has the babysitting locked down. “My mom’s going to watch Emily and William tomorrow,” she tells Mulder. “So we can have some time alone.”

“Yeah, I know,” Mulder says, and, in response to her inquiring look, he adds, “I called to ask her, and she said you’d already arranged it.”

“Oh,” she says. “Great minds think alike, I guess.”

“Absolutely,” Mulder says. “Do you have a surprise planned for tomorrow, Scully?”

“Sure,” she says. She doesn’t add that if there’s a surprise, it will be a surprise to her, too. He smiles at her. She’s afraid he’s planned something elaborate, something to which anything she can plan in the next few hours won’t possibly measure up.

When he’s gone downstairs to look for a book, she digs through her underwear drawer—maybe there’s something she can wear in there, something special that he hasn’t seen in a while. They don’t often have time to make an occasion out of sex these days; of course, it’s still enjoyable when it’s not an occasion, but since it’s their anniversary, well, she wants it to be at least a little special. A lot of what she finds is depressingly practical, but near the bottom there’s a black set…She’s not even sure when she got it. But it’s pretty. Lace trim, red ribbons at the hips and the cleavage. She picks it up, looks at it. She likes what she sees. She wants Mulder to like her in it, but she thinks it might make her feel good too.

She stuffs it back into the drawer when she hears Mulder coming down the hall, but she’s smiling now. At least she has something planned. Even if it’s not elaborate, it’s special.

Her mom picks the kids up late in the morning, and then it’s just the two of them.

The energy feels different, as soon as the door closes. A day for her and Mulder, with no responsibilities. She feels like a kid playing hooky. She feels delicious. She feels like she wants Mulder to find out what she’s wearing under her t-shirt and jeans.

She thinks he feels the same, from the way he’s looking at her, and that’s before he presses her back against the wall and kisses her. She kisses him back, abandoning herself to it. Today she wants to be exhausted again, but only in the best way.

“So I have to admit,” Mulder says, drawing back from the kiss, “that I didn’t come up with much of a surprise for today. Because I just wanted to spend time with you.”

“I want that too,” she says. “Mine’s only a little surprise. But I think you’ll like it.”

“I’m sure,” he says. “Right now, I want to take you upstairs and make love to you. How does that sound?”

“I like what you’ve got in mind,” she says.

“And we can do that until we get tired of it,” he says, “or until our limbs don’t work any more. Whichever comes first.”

“I don’t think,” she says, “that I’m going to get tired of it.”

He half-carries her up the stairs.

This is what she needed, Scully thinks, as they kiss and kiss and kiss. As they pull at each other’s clothes; she tugs his shirt off and runs her hands down his chest, and he grabs her shirt too, pulling it over her head. And then he stops and looks.

“Scully,” he says. Just that word, just her name, but that and his look are enough. Even before he says, “God, you’re so beautiful.” And he says that again, when he has her jeans off and he’s looking at her. And “You’re so fucking sexy.”

They make love until she feels boneless, utterly sated, more content than she’s been in weeks, and so full of love for him. Then they drag themselves down to the kitchen, where they make a meal out of various leftovers. It’s not exactly a fancy anniversary dinner, but Scully can’t think of anything she’d rather do than be here with him. From the way he’s smiling at her, she can tell that he feels the same.

“So I did get you a little something,” he says, when they’ve finished eating. He opens the freezer, takes it out, and presents it to her. Rocky road ice cream, the good brand, the kind she doesn’t keep in the house because she knows one of two things will happen: the kids will eat it before she gets a chance to, or she’ll have to scarf it down to keep that from happening. But the kind she likes the best.

“Thank you,” she says. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” he says. “And hey…I wanted you to know that I’m proud of you. You do an amazing job with everything, even in crazy weeks like this one.” He smiles at her. “You deserve to feel good about that.”

She didn’t tell him how she was feeling in so many words, but he knew. She doesn’t answer him in so many words either, but she kisses him long and slow.

She eats the ice cream right out of the carton; she offers Mulder some, out of obligation, but he doesn’t take any, except for a little that he licks off her lips. “What time is your mom bringing the kids back?” he asks.

She looks at the clock. “Around seven, I think. She said she’d give them supper. We still have a few hours. Back to bed?”

“You read my mind,” he says.

They make love again, and then they doze next to each other, which is almost as pleasurable, in its own way. She’s so happy they had this day for just them. But she’s truly happy, too, when the doorbell rings and they go down to hug their children hello.

.....

Emily’s really good at baseball. She plays with high schoolers, a lot of the time, even though she’s only in middle school, and she’s the shortest one and the only girl, mostly. She’s William’s favorite baseball player. He likes some other ones too, but Emily’s special because she’s his sister and he actually knows her. The other baseball players he likes he only gets to see from far away.

He also gets to play with her. Even though she’s so good, she’ll always play catch with him. She can throw the ball really fast, he’s seen her, but when they play together she throws it slowly so he can catch it. She helps him practice hitting too, and she’ll run around and catch the balls he hits, even though a lot of them don’t go where he means them to go, and sometimes she has to run a really long way.

“It’s okay,” she’ll tell him. “That’s why you practice. I had to practice a lot, to get to where I am.” Sometimes when Emily says things like that, their dad says that she’s twelve going on twenty-five. William’s not sure what that means, but he thinks it’s a good thing, because he always smiles when he says it.

William wishes he could be as good as Emily, even though she tells him she wasn’t that good when she was six. Everybody in their family likes baseball. They all like to watch it, but William’s the only one who can’t really play it. When Emily practices with just their mom and dad, they can go fast, but when he plays with them, they have to go slow. Emily’s a lot older than him, and mostly he likes that because she can teach him things and stick up for him and they don’t really fight a lot. But sometimes he wishes he could be bigger, so that he could be good at things like she is.

They’re playing catch together in the yard one day when their dad comes outside too. “How’s it going?” he asks them.

“Good, Dad,” Emily says. “I’m trying to show William how to throw the ball overhand. Want to show Dad, William?”

So he tries, but the ball doesn’t go where he wants it to go. It almost goes into Emily’s face, but she ducks. “I’m sorry,” he says. “It’s hard.”

“That’s okay, Will,” Emily says. “You just have to keep trying.”

“You’ll get it soon, buddy,” their dad says. But William doesn’t know if he will or not. He knows Emily says she had to practice a lot to be good, but he doesn’t remember her ever not being good.

“I guess,” he says softly. They play for a little longer, and then Emily says that she has homework to do, and she goes inside. William sits down on the steps.

His dad sits down next to him. “Everything okay, Will?” he asks.

“I wish I could be good at baseball,” William says. “Everyone else is.”

“You’re still learning,” his dad says. “What matters is that you have fun with it. Do you have fun playing?”

William thinks about it. Sometimes he does, but sometimes he doesn’t, because it’s hard. “I guess I do,” he says. “Usually.”

His dad looks at him for a minute, and then he squeezes his shoulders. “You don’t have to play if it’s not fun,” he says. “You can take a break.” But that just makes William feel worse, like his dad doesn’t think he should keep playing. Because maybe he’ll never be good like Emily. He just shrugs then, and he stays sitting there while his dad goes inside. He bounces the ball up and down, and then it rolls away.

He's watching it when his mom comes outside. “Hey, Will,” she says. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing,” William says.

“Your dad told me you were feeling a little sad,” she says. “About baseball.” She sits down on the step behind him, and he leans against her legs.

“Emily is so good at it,” he says. “And you and dad are good too. But I’m not.”

She smoothes his hair. “It’s hard sometimes, when you’re younger,” she says. “I remember when I was your age. I wanted to be able to do everything Bill and Missy could do.” That’s her older brother and sister, William knows—Uncle Bill in California, who they sometimes see at Christmas and Thanksgiving, and Aunt Melissa, who died before William was born. “You know how we moved around a lot, right?” William nods. “Missy was so good at making new friends, wherever we went. I wanted to be able to do that too.”

“So what did you do?” William asks.

“Well, I sulked some of the time,” his mom says, and she laughs. “And then I tried to copy whatever she did, but that didn’t work so well either. And finally…I tried doing things I was interested in and finding people who liked to do them too.”

“And that worked?” William asks.

“It did,” his mom says. “Much better than trying to be exactly like Missy.”

William can tell she’s trying to tell him something. “I don’t want to be exactly like Emily,” he says. “It’s just that she’s really good, and I think…I think that’s nice.”

“And there’s nothing wrong with that,” his mom says. “It’s good to have things you want to do, Will. But you shouldn’t get down on yourself if they don’t happen exactly like you expect them to.” She kisses the top of his head. “And there can be different ways of playing baseball. Just like there can be different ways of making friends.”

William doesn’t understand that. There’s a way you’re supposed to play baseball; it’s in the rules. “What do you mean?” he asks.

“Well, think about it,” she says. “First of all, you can play lots of different positions, right?”

“Right,” William says.

“So you might be better at one than at another,” his mom says. “And then there are different reasons you can like to play. Like Emily likes to play with her team. And I just like to play with you and Emily and your dad, so I can spend time with all of you.”

That makes sense, William guesses. “Are you saying I should just play at home?” he asks. “Instead of on a team?”

“Not exactly,” his mom says. “If you want to be on a team, I think you should keep practicing for that. And I’d be happy to help you. But if you’d rather just play with us, that’s okay too. It doesn’t mean you can’t be good at baseball. Or that you can’t love it.” He looks up at her; she’s smiling. “One of the reasons I love baseball is because your dad showed me how to play it. And that’s a really good memory for me. It might not be the reason anyone else loves baseball, but that’s mine. Do you understand what I’m saying?”

William thinks about it. He thinks about going to a baseball game for the first time, with his mom and dad and Emily, and eating lots of popcorn, and all of them wearing matching baseball caps, and cheering so loud. He thinks about Emily playing catch with him, every day sometimes, in the summer. “Yeah,” he says. “I understand.” And he hugs his mom. She hugs him back.

.....

The first time Scully went away for a conference, after they had the kids, she called at least twice each day to check in, to tell them she missed them. (Mulder would make fun at her, if he hadn’t done exactly the same thing.) Now, when Emily’s sixteen and Will’s ten, she’s a little bit more calm about it all. She’s away until Saturday; today’s Thursday, and she told them she’d call this evening, and Mulder doesn’t expect to be hearing from her ahead of schedule.

When he gets home from work, he decides to ask the kids if they have any ideas about what they want for dinner. “Pizza,” Will says. He’s doing his homework at the kitchen table.

That sounds pretty appealing. “Good idea,” Mulder says. “Do you know where Emily is? I’ll check with her too.”

“She went up to her room, I think,” Will says, and, as Mulder turns to go, he adds, “She was mad about something.”

“Mad about something?” Mulder asks. “What do you mean?”

Will shrugs. “I don’t know. I asked her what was up and she told me to leave her alone. And I didn’t even do anything.” He looks faintly injured.

“It’s probably not anything you did,” Mulder says. “Thanks for letting me know, though. I’ll check on her.”

He heads upstairs to Emily’s room. The door is pulled closed, and he knocks. “Emily? It’s me. Can I come in?”

“Okay,” she says, and he opens the door. When he sees her face, he can tell that Will was at least partially right: she’s definitely upset about something. He doesn’t think she’s mad, though. She looks more sad.

“Are you okay, Em?” he asks her. She shrugs. “Is something bothering you?” She nods, after a minute. “Want to talk about it?” She’s getting older, and he might not be able to help solve her problems as easily as he once did, but he’ll always try.

“I don’t know,” Emily says. “I’d kind of…I’d rather talk to Mom about it. It’s that kind of thing.”

He’s not one hundred percent sure what that means. “Okay,” he says. “You can talk to her when she calls tonight. Are you all right physically, though?”

“Oh, yeah,” Emily says. “It’s not about menstruation, if that’s what you’re thinking.”

He has to smile when she puts it like that, because it was one of the things he was thinking, and because she sounds so much like Scully. “Good to know,” he says. “Well, then…”

“It’s about a boy,” she blurts out, as he’s hovering between staying and going.

“Ah,” he says. He hopes the boy in question hasn’t broken her heart. It seems so early in life for that to be happening, although a part of him knows that he thinks that because she’s his daughter and he wants to keep her safe and happy.

“Well, sort of,” she says. She doesn’t say anything more, but the way she looks at him makes him think that she wants to talk now, not wait until the evening. Scully’s not here, though, so maybe he’ll have to do.

“You sure you don’t want to talk to me?” he asks. “I know some things about boys. As they were when I was one, anyway. Maybe they’ve changed since then.”

Emily almost smiles at that. “I don’t think people really change in how they act,” she says. “Okay, well, it’s…there’s this boy at school. And we’re in a lot of classes together. And we talk sometimes. And…I kind of like him.” The words are soft, like an admission, and Mulder nods, trying to look as understanding as he can. “So we have the spring dance coming up next month, and I thought I would ask him if he wanted to go together. I mean, why not, right?”

“Good for you, Em,” Mulder says. She’s braver in some things, at sixteen, than he’s ever been.

“So I asked him today,” Emily says, “and he said no.”

“Just like that?” Mulder asks. “Just ‘no’? What’s the matter with this guy?”

“It wasn’t just no,” Emily says. “He was nice about it. He just said he was sorry, but he didn’t feel like that about me. I’m not mad at him or anything.”

“I get why you’re upset, though,” Mulder says. “Still, you should be proud of yourself for asking him. That kind of thing’ll stand you in good—”

“That’s not exactly what I’m upset about,” Emily says. “I mean, I am disappointed. I’m just…I was talking to one of my friends after and I started wondering about why. She was saying…well, that maybe it was because of what I’m like in class.”

“What you’re like in class?” Mulder asks.

“Yeah,” Emily says. “Because I always answer a lot of questions. And I talk a lot, when we have discussions. And she said it’s not that boys don’t like it when girls are smart. But they don’t like it when the girls are smarter than them. And that’s just…I mean, I’m not going to stop talking in class. That would be an idiotic thing to do. But I just wonder if that means I won’t ever get a boyfriend.” She’s biting her lip now. She looks young, and confused, and sad.

So maybe Emily’s not mad, but Mulder is. “What kind of friend is this?” he asks. “To tell you something like that.”

Emily shrugs. “She’s not my best friend or anything. But she didn’t say it to be mean. She was being honest.”

“Well, maybe she thinks she was,” Mulder says. “But Em, that’s not something you should be worried about at all. You will meet plenty of people who will love how smart you are. Guys included.”

“How do you know?” Emily asks.

“You’d say your mom was pretty smart, wouldn’t you?” he asks, and Emily nods. “And that’s one of the reasons I fell in love with her. One of many reasons,” he adds. “And if you love someone who’s smart, like that, you can have much better conversations, and…I don’t know why anyone wouldn’t want to be with someone smart.”

“Yeah, but you guys are older,” Emily says.

“That’s true,” Mulder concedes. “And I will admit that a lot of people in high school don’t really know what they want or where they’re going. But some do. I know you’re one of them.”

“Sometimes, I guess,” she says.

“Sure,” Mulder says. “It’s not always simple. But you were brave enough to ask that guy. And you know you’re not going to stop talking in class, no matter what anyone says. Those things are important, Emily.” She’s watching him, listening. “I bet you’ll meet other people who know those things too. And if you don’t…you won’t be in high school forever, either. There’s a lot more out there.”

“Thank God,” she says, and he chuckles. She smiles too.

“Your mom and I are really proud of the person you are,” he tells her. “And you should be too. Don’t waste your time with anyone who acts like that’s not good enough. Okay?”

“Okay,” she says, and she hugs him spontaneously, which she doesn’t do as often as she used to. “Thanks, Dad.”

“What I’m here for,” he says. “Will and I were thinking about getting pizza for tonight. How does that sound to you?”

“Good,” Emily says. “Can we get extra cheese?”

“Absolutely,” he says. “And you can talk to your mom by yourself tonight, if you want to. Will and I will go, after we’re done saying hi.”

“Thanks,” Emily says, and then, after a minute, “I already feel a lot better, though.”

“I’m glad,” he says.

.....

Emily and Will have been sitting in the diner all morning, and even though it’s not crowded or anything, the waiter has been giving them looks. They’ve tried to keep ordering, but there’s a limit to how much you can eat (at least Emily thinks so—she’s not sure about Will, but she feels like it would be irresponsible to let him have a third plate of bacon). And she’s already too amped up for another cup of coffee.

“How much longer do you think it’s going to be?” Will asks.

“I don’t know,” Emily says. “These things take a while.”

He’s quiet, fiddling with his utensils. “I hope Mom’s okay.”

“Mom will be fine,” Emily says quickly. “She said everything looked really good at her last appointment, remember? She wouldn’t lie to us. And she’s got good doctors. And she’s got Dad.”

“Yeah,” Will says. “But still…it’s hard, right? They say it’s hard and it hurts and…” He looks worried.

“I know,” Emily says. “I’m sure she’s…it’s not like a fun day or anything. But she’s done it before, right? With you.” Not with Emily, herself; she knows the whole story now, and sometimes she’s mad about it, but it’s never made a real difference in how she feels about her relationship with her mom, with her dad, with Will, with this baby who’s coming into the world today. “And she was ready to do it again, so that must mean something.”

“I guess,” Will says. “Do you remember it? When I was born.”

“I wasn’t there,” Emily says. “I was at home with Grandma. I don’t think I was worried about Mom or anything. Too young, probably. I was just worried that Mom and Dad were going to love you better than me.”

“They do,” Will says, and she makes a face at him.

“But I came to see you all the next day,” she says, “and I liked you a lot better than I thought I would. And Mom was fine. And she’ll be fine today, too.”

Will nods. “Can we get pancakes?” he asks, after a minute.

She doesn’t feel like arguing with him right now, and besides, pancakes sound good. “Sure.”

“Aren’t we supposed to smoke cigars?” he asks, when they’re eating. “While we’re waiting for the baby. Don’t people smoke cigars?”

“Well, we shouldn’t smoke cigars at all, because it’s disgusting,” Emily says, “but I think that’s for after the baby anyway. And it’s for the dad. He’s supposed to give cigars to people, or something.” She laughs. “I can’t really picture Dad doing that.”

“Nah,” Will says. He pours a lot of maple syrup onto his pancakes. She does the same.

It’s mid-afternoon and she’s lost track of how many meals they’ve had when her phone rings. She sees it’s their dad and grabs it. “Hi! Is the baby here?”

“She’s here,” their dad confirms, and she knows he’s smiling, even though she can’t see it. “She and your mom are doing great.”

“Who does she look like?” Emily asks.

“She’s got your mom’s eyes,” he says. “But brown hair. You can decide for yourself what you think.”

“So we can come over?” Emily says.

“Yeah,” he says. “We can’t wait to see you both.”

“We can’t wait either,” Emily says, and they say goodbye.

She fills Will in while she’s paying for a truly outrageous amount of food, and then they walk over towards the hospital. There’s a florists’s on the way, and they stop there; Will says they should get blue flowers, because their mom likes blue, so that’s what they do.

They make their way in by the visitors’ entrance. Their dad texted her the room number, with directions, and they find it pretty quickly. Will’s carrying the flowers now, so Emily taps at the door. “Come in,” she hears her mom’s voice say, and they do.

It was strange, finding out she was getting a little sister now, when they’d only be in the house together for ten months or so before Emily went off to college. She was excited about it, but sometimes she wondered if she’d be able to be close to the baby the way she was close to Will.

But when her mom says, “Here she is,” and they go over to look at the baby, she decides that was silly. It might not be exactly the same, but she knows she loves her little sister. She knows she’s excited to have her in her life.

“Hi there,” she says. “Hi, sweetie.” She touches one of the baby’s hands.

“Wow,” Will says. “She’s so little.”

Their dad laughs. “That’s what Emily said when she first saw you,” he says.

“Mm-hmm,” their mom says. “Doesn’t seem that long ago, does it?”

“Are you okay, Mom?” Will asks.

She smiles at him. “I’m great, sweetheart. Thank you for asking.” She touches the baby’s head, and she looks so happy.

“Did you figure out the name?” Will asks. They’ve been going back and forth about different ideas.

“Yes,” their mom says. “Susanna.”

“Hi, Susanna,” Will says. Susanna yawns. They stand together and watch her.

#my fic #the x files #msr #family fic #fluff

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