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tinyboxxtink · 2 years ago

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"Spring Break 86" *Chapter 17*

Chapter 16

Chapter 18

Funny story:

This was supposed to go up two days ago, but adult life happened and I couldn't do it Saturday, and I worked all day today.

But it's here!

I heard ya'll, you do NOT Like Y/N being a villain!

Also-- IDK if anyone know who "Evil Lady" is, but it's how I picture Y/N In "Villain Era"

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“Y/N, What are you doing?!” Dustin yelled angrily.

Lucas trying to reach Max, who was writhing and howling in pain from her two broken limbs. One of which you had just caused.

“Oh wah wah wah,” you rolled your eyes. “Zoomer’s hurt and her little bard is distraught. You’re fucking KIDS,”

“Y/N!”

“You don’t know what love is, do you get that? Stupid idiotic god damn teenagers thinking they know what love is when clearly they don’t--”

“Yeah, you’re tellin�� me,” Eddie speaks up, making you look at him in shock.

“....Yeah, i guess so,”

“Dude what are you doing?!” Steve yelled down to him. “Don’t piss her off more!”

“Ah, Harrington,” Vecna chuckled, looking up at him. “Quite the delicious morsel you are,”

“Sorry, I don’t go for psychopathic freaks,”

“Yes I know,” he looks at you. “That’s Y/N’s department,”

“Hey!” Both you and Eddie yell in offense, then look at each other. For half a second you both want to run to each other, forget all of this and just make up. But as fleeting as the emotion was, soon it was gone.

“He means meal wise, Harrington,” You spit, knowing what Vecna’s thinking at all times now. It was like you were both in each other’s heads now, a mind meld made in hell.

“What?”

“Mmmmm yes, all that guilt,”

W-What?

“Oh don’t even pretend to act surprised, Steven,” you rolled your eyes. “So many years of being such a DICK to people, especially women,”

Steve looks down in shame, knowing exactly what you’re talking about.

“Hey! Steve!” Nancy reaches for him. “Don’t let her get in your head, okay? You’re not that guy anymore,”

“Oh right, Nancy Drew here would stick up for him, wouldn’t she?” you laughed. “Before you do that though dear you should know you weren’t the first girl he de-folowered,”

“....What?”

“Oh come on Nance,” you chuckled. “You didn’t think you were special, did you?”

Nancy looks at Steve who has an incredibly guilty look on his face.

“I bet you thought he was a virgin too, didn’t you?” you smirked.

“Well, no, but--” Nancy starts in a small voice, but stops and glares at you. “No, I’m not letting you get inside my head like that, you bitch,”

“OOOOOOOHHHHHHHH,” Vecna drags out the word in a singsong voice. “Little Nancy Wheeler, quite the potty mouth on you now, hmm? Who knew?”

“Shut up,” Nancy growls.

“Let’s talk about your guilt then, shall we?”

“Oh come on papa,” you roll your eyes. “The Barb thing has been done to death,”

“Oh, but it’s deeper than that, Y/N,” He smirks, looking at a nervous Nancy.

“Oh?” you raised a curious eyebrow while glancing at her.

“It’s really the shame of that fact that….you don’t feel guilty about Barb at all, do you Nancy?”

“W-What?” Nancy shakes her head. “Of COURSE I do!”

“Mmmm, I don’t think so, no,” Vecna chuckles. “I think you think it’s unfair that Barb had to go and get herself killed on the best night of your life,”

“OOOOOHHHH,” You mimic his voice. “Interesting,”

“No!” She waves her hands frantically. “I don’t feel like that….anymore,”

“Anymore,” you rolls your eyes with a small evil chuckle.

“Hey!” Leave her alone!” Robin yells.

“Ohhh yes,” your evil grin widens as you look at Robin. “Robin Buckley, resident lesbian of the Scooby gang,”

Everyone minus Steve and Eddie gasp; Robin’s mouth falls open.

“You said--” She says softly, tears in her eyes. “You said that was safe with you,”

“Yeah well I said a lot of things, didn’t I?” You scoff. “Like how you’re gonna find someone someday? Lie. I was just trying to be nice.

You’re never going to find someone, Robin. Y’know why? Because you’re ashamed. You think it’s some dirty secret, you have to hide.! How do you expect anyone to love you if you don’t love yourself, hmm?”

“HEY,” Steve barked at you. “That’s enough, Y/N,”

“Actually I think it was going quite well,” Vecna smirked. “I can feel the shame and guilt oozing out of all three of you now. But why stop there?”

He turns his gaze to Max and Lucas.

“Come on man,” Lucas whines. “She’s already in enough pain,”

“Yeah, that is true, papa,”

“Oh now you feel remorse, Y/N?” He gave you a look. “I do believe you were the one who just snapped her arm in two,”

“Well, yeah but--” You wavered. Vecna could see the flicker of guilt in your eyes, he had to stop this.

“Well maybe we move on to Munson, hmm?”

“What?” You turn to Eddie, who has an equally horrified look on his face.

“No,” you shook your head. “No you said--”

“I said he could live, Y/N,” He crosses his arms. “I didn’t say he wouldn’t get tortured,”

“T-Tortured?” you whimpered.

“Oh, I misspoke,” Vecna steps towards you, putting his hands on your shoulders from behind you.

“All i meant was he should pay for what he put you through, don’t you think?”

“The pain i put HER through?!” Eddie scoffs with a laugh, flicking something in you to the ON position.

“See?” Vecna catches this flash of anger, nurturing it quickly. “He doesn’t care what he did to you, he only expects you to feel guilty for what he thinks you did,”

“What--No!” Eddie suddenly realizes whats happening. He shouldn’t have opened his mouth.

“He doesn’t care how he broke your heart that day, that day you wanted to proclaim your love to him,”

“Stop…”

“You were going to give up EVERYTHING for him. He was your entire world, didn’t you say that?”

“W-What?”

“Tell him, Y/N,” Vecna says softly in your ear. “Tell him what you told Nancy,”

As if being a machine turned on, your eyes went glassy and you repeated the monologue you had given Nancy like reciting lines in a play.

“Eddie was the same as my mother, it seemed like. You know, he went to high school a whole year before me. I was alone in that junior high for a whole year. And he had– He had been my entire world,”

“Oh God…” Eddie whispered, not wanting to hear this. Not wanting to drudge up the guilt he had for giving her up.

“So I had no choice but to…’adapt. I started getting good grades, I started joining clubs, I thought that by the time I met up with Eddie he’d be the same and we'd be together again but– By the time I was a freshman he just wasn’t…Eddie, anymore,”

“No…” he shook his head, not wanting to hear it, seeing tears drip down your stoic face.

“He had made friends with all of these stoners, who only wanted to get high and play D&D. That’s it. No ambition, no dreams. Just weed and RPG’s. And it scared the shit out of me! He was just like my mother, like– everyone else, telling me the world doesn’t give a shit about you, so why should you give a shit about it?”

Tears started streaming down your face, even though you were still in a trance-like state. It was very disconcerting to watch.

“And then, it made me try harder,” you became angry. “Now I had two people to convince: my mother, and Eddie. My mother might have been a lost cause, but I thought-- I don’t know if I– got to some point high enough, then maybe he’d– he’d…get his shit together,”

“No,” he shook his head harder, getting angry. He wasn’t sure whether it was at himself, you or Vecna, but he was fuming.

“No, that is NOT what it was supposed to do, Y/N. The whole point of ‘giving you up’ was so that you WOULDN’T have to…’take care’, of me. Why don’t you get that?!”

“But apparently, all I did was shove him deeper and deeper into the belief that he was no good, and never would be. And now he’s just given up completely!”

“THAT’S NOT YOUR FAULT, Y/N!!” He ran over and tried shaking your shoulders to ‘wake you’, but you continued your robotic speech.

“So maybe…I don’t know, maybe my mom’s right,” You finally finished, Vecna conveniently leaving out the part where you were worried about being killed by him.

Your eyes slowly returned to normal, looking Eddie in the eyes. His face was relieved, glad you were you again.

Or so he thought.

It was like something in you had been awaken from that trance, like you had been shoved down and the angry, bitter you emerged to the surface.

“You,” you shoved him off. “You did this,”

“W-What?” His face went from ecstatic to terrified once again. “NO! Princess I--”

“NO!!!!!” You bellowed, your voice emitting some sort of shock wave. It passed through Eddie like lightning, knocking him to the ground.

“You pushed me away,” angry tears started to form as you advanced towards him. “You, you became so fucking self indulgent and self involved with your stupid ass games and your weed. That’s ALL you cared about!”

“Th-That’s not true,” he whimpered, trying to get back up. “You know that’s not true--”

“I had to go through my best friend-- my entire world, just shoving me away like I was garbage, and it wasn’t even my fault!!!”

“I know, Princess,” He crawled towards you, tears dripping down his face. “I know, and I’m sorry. I didn’t think--”

“Yeah that’s your problem, Munson,” you growled. “You don’t fucking think about anyone else but yourself,”

“That’s bullshit!” Eddie yelled angrily. “Y/N I have tried dying on you, MULTIPLE times. For YOU. Shit, I just ACTUALLY died!”

“I DIDN’T ASK YOU TOO!!!!” You screamed back. “You-- you left me, AGAIN. You DIED. You-- you took yourself from me, and once again I didn’t do anything to deserve that!”

“How are you turning my act of love into some--- nefarious thing, Y/N”

“Big word for a three time senior,” You smirked.

“Bitch,” Eddie blurted out. He hadn’t mean to be so harsh, but he was pissed already and you knew how to bring out the worst in him.

“Oooooooh!!!!!” Vecna laughed evilly. “Now the big man’s showing his true colors, isn’t he-- Princess?”

“DON’T,” Eddie clenched his fists. “Don’t you fucking call her that. That is not your name for her,”

“And it’s not yours either,” You spoke up.

“W-What?” He gasped softly. “No, Princess come on--”

“DON’T fucking call me that,” you growled, getting up in his face while he was still on his knees. “You will never call me that again, do you fucking understand me?”

“NO, I don’t,” he pulled himself to his feet, grabbing your shoulders. “You are my Princess, Y/N. You always have been. Please, hear me. I know the real you is in there somewhere, and I know she knows how much I love her. How much I’ve always loved her,”

He moves both hands to your face.

“Please, baby,” he begs you, his voice trembling. “Please fight this. I can’t lose you, not again,”

“Not again,” You roll your eyes with a sad laugh, looking to the sky. “Not again?! WHO’S FAULT IS THAT?!”

“M-Mine, but--”

“I loved you, Eddie. Do you get that? I loved you so completely and with my entire being. But i was terrified to say anything because at least having you as a friend I could…’keep’ you,”

“Y/N…”

“Do you know how much courage it took for me to go to your house that day? Do you know how fucking long I stood in your driveway, just talking to myself? Trying to convince myself that if I laid it all out on the table, that it would-- somehow, bring you back to me?”

“Baby, I’m--”

“And then you YELLED AT ME!” You start to cry again. “You yelled at me, and made me feel like I did something wrong for loving you!!!!”

“I know,” he tightened the hands around your face, still crying himself. “I know, and I will never forgive myself for that, okay? But it’s over, it doesn't matter--”

“DOESN’T MATTER?!” You screamed, shoving him off of you.

All of a sudden, your eyes glossed over once again. But this time, they were black. All black, like you had completely been lost and the demon had taken over.

“Oh now I do want you to suffer, Munson,”

“Wha--- Aw shit no--” Eddie groans.

You held out one of your hands and started to clench it, causing Eddie’s throat to tighten.

“No--” Eddie whimpered, his hands immediately going to his neck, as if he could pry your invisible grip on him.

“Y/N!!!!!” Dustin yelled. “Y/N DON’T DO THIS!!!!!!!”

“Oh right,” You turned to face him. “The annoying little brother,”

“What?” Dustin gasped in horror. “No! Eddie and I are the only reason you’re like this, Y/N! Remember that?”

“How could I forget, Dusty Buns?” You chuckled evilly. “You two have caused me the most suffering,”

“Whatt-- NO!” Steve yelled from up above. “No! Leave Dustin alone! He hasn’t done anything wrong, Y/N!”

“ACTUALLY Harrington,” you turn to him. “You’re proving my point right now,”

“What?” Steve furrowed his eyebrows.

“You HAVE an older sibling, Dustin!!!” You stepped towards him. “Or did you forget that? You’re---you had the audacity to replace me with Steve “The Hair” Harrington? REALLY?!”

“I wasn’t trying to replace you, Y/N!” Dustin yelled. “But-- you were GONE. You’ve BEEN gone, even when you were here!”

“Oh now you try and guilt trip me, huh little brother?” you scoff.

“I’m not-- I’m not trying to guilt trip you, I’m just trying to get you to understand---”

“Understand WHAT, Dustin?!” You cut him off angrily. “Understand that you went through hell and back again, and you chose Steve The--”

“Can we not use the nickname, please?” Steve asked.

“...Harrington,” you growled. “You chose HIM to go to battle with? And then THIS loser?!” You gestured to Eddie who was still in your light choke hold.

“YOU WEREN’T AROUND!”

“I WOULD HAVE BEEN, DUSTIN!!!!!!” you screeched.

“Do you really think that if-- if you had said something after Will ‘supposedly’ died, that I wouldn’t have been there for you?

“I mean, maybe--”

“You didn’t trust me enough to let me! Your own FUCKING sister!!!!” Your decibels didn’t lower.

“I didn’t bring him into it, Nancy did!” Dustin gestured to Nancy.

“Y-You just…you closed off, and I let you. And then to come find out you not only opened up to this douchebag, but now you fucking WORSHIP him?!” you growled.

“I do not--” Dustin started to deny it.

“Ohhhhhhh do not even,” You wagged a finger. “Do not even try and bullshit me Dustin. I see how you look and act around him, like he’s a fucking superhero. He’s NOT, by the way. He’s a narcissistic, shallow, selfish ASSHOLE--”

“HE IS NOT!!!!!!!” Dustin was now screaming over you.

“See?” You laugh bitterly. “You run to his fucking defense. But you don’t know him like I do, do you?”

“You don’t know him like I do, Y/N!” Dustin yelled. “He’s changed!”

“Oh I’m sure,” you rolled your eyes.

Suddenly, Vecna reacts to something, as if he’s being summoned. You feel it too, but you can’t make out what it is. Vecna however, seems to recognize it immediately.

“Hmm, seems we have a visitor, Maxine,” he chuckles. “Come, don’t want to keep her waiting,”

He snaps his fingers and Max goes into her trance like state, before he turns to you.

“I can count on you to finish these peons off, right my pet?”

“Yes, papa,” You nodded sweetly.

“Good,” he snaps his fingers and he and Max disappear. As soon as they’re gone, the remaining four drop to the floor of the trailer, and Eddie’s choke hold is released.

Eddie immediately takes the opportunity to grab you by the shoulders, looking into the deep black holes where your eyes should be.

“Jesus fuck…” he mutters, tears coming to his eyes. “Y/N? Baby? Can you hear me?”

You shove him off with superhuman strength, then clench your fists. As you do, everyone in the trailer begins to choke.

“I’ve had it with all of you….” You growl, looking straight ahead into nothingness.

“NONE of you deserve happiness. NONE of you deserve to live,” You’re about to crush everyone’s windpipes with a flick of your wrist when you hear a small voice next to you.

“...I can’t fight this…feeling, any…longer,” Eddie chokes, trying desperately for you to hear him.

Your head turns, the black in your eyes has blinded your vision.

“Don’t…” you growled, hearing the others struggling to breathe.

“And yet I’m still afraid…to let it show,” He sings louder.

“STOP,” You growl harder, stepping towards where the voice is coming from.

“What started out-- as-- friendship--” He chokes, your grip on everyone’s throat tightens as you rage inside.

You can feel the true you fighting back, your eyes flash to normal, to black, to normal, to black.

“Has grown stronger--” your voice comes out softly, almost against your will. Like the true you was breaking through.

“I only wish I had the strength to let it show,”

“Baby come on--” Eddie grunts. “Fight it, fight for us,”

“And…I can’t…” You hold your head, your eyes flashing back and forth more rapidly.

“I can’t…Eddie,” You whimpered.

“You can, Y/N,” He could feel the grip on his neck loosening.

He continued to sing to you: “And even as I wander, I’m keeping you in sight,”

“You’re a--” You grunted, your knees started to shake.

“Candle in the window, on a cold dark winter’s night,” He sang back, reaching for you but you kept him far enough away from you he was having difficulty.

“And I’m getting closer than I ever thought I might…” he hopped forward, finally grabbing one of your arms.

Your eyes flicker to normal as Eddie pulls you into him, his choke hold being released. He sings the last line to you, and only the real you.

“And I can’t--”

You put a hand to his lips, wanting to sing to him back as yourself, but you felt super weak.

“...Fight this feeling anymore, You slur, as you fall to the ground unconscious. Once you do, everyone else is released from their choke hold.

“Y/N?” Eddie grabs you and sits down on the floor with your head in his lap. “Y/N? Baby?”

No response.

“Baby, come on don’t do this. Not now,” he whimpers, stroking your blank face.

“Come back to me,” he whispers.

The rest of the group is recovering, all talking to each other, checking on one another. Dustin quickly runs over to Eddie holding you.

“Eddie,” he starts to cry. “Is she…?”

“I don’t know…” Eddie started to cry himself, looking at him.

Suddenly, you began to stir in his arms.

“Baby?” Eddie shook you softly as your eyes started to flutter open.

“Eddie…?” You looked up at him, tears coming to your eyes immediately as you started to remember what happened.

“Y/N!” Dustin exclaimed happily, hugging you as you sit up. You hug him back softly, still holding Eddie’s hand.

“I’m--I’m so sorry,” You whisper to the two of them, before looking at the rest of them. “I’m sorry to all of you,”

“It’s okay baby,” He pulled you close. “It wasn’t you,”

“It was, though,” you bit your lip looking up at him. “I mean…it was stuff I thought,”

“...Really?” Dustin asks in a hushed voice.

“REALLY?” Steve stomps over. “So you really think that shit about Robin?

“No!” You shook your head, giving Robin an apologetic look. “Not…really,”

“WOW,” Robin scoffs. “Wow,”

“Oh come on Robin, you know what i meant,” you tried to defend yourself.

“Do I?!” She yelled angrily. “I know you just fucking outed me!”

“Oh to who, Max and Lucas?” You roll your eyes.

“Y/N!” Eddie hits you.

“I’m sorry,” you apologize to her.

“See, she’s still under his spell,” Nancy gestures towards you.

“No she’s--” Eddie stops. “Are you?”

“What?” your eyebrows furrowed.

“Still connected to Vecna,”’ Eddie said.

“I….” You closed your eyes. You could see Vecna, standing in a gym decorated for a dance. A banner read “SNOW BALL”.

“Yes,” you nodded, eyes still closed.

“...Do you still have his power?” Nancy asked.

You looked over and clenched your fist at Steve. He started to gag, and you released quickly.

“Yup,” you shrugged.

“Jesus,” Steve muttered. “Thanks a lot,”

“Sorry,” you blushed.

“So-- theoretically, you can kill him,” Nancy pointed out.

“WHAT?” Eddie gasped.

“I mean, help eleven at least,” Robin added.

“Nah nah nah nah,” Eddie waved his hands. “They’re psychically linked. What if when Vecna dies, she dies,”

“We don’t know that will happen,” Nancy speaks up.

“Yeah, you would--” You stop yourself, you know it’s not yourself.

“See?!” She’s having none of it. “We don’t know if or when Vecna could just-- take full control of her and kill us all!”

“But what if she can help amp El’s powers? I mean, Vecna/Henry/One is a number, so they should have similar powers, right?”

“No,” Eddie stands in front of you. “No more using the girlfriend, do you hear me?”

“You better tell Vecna that,” Eddie scoffed.

“Baby they’re right,” you put your hands on his face.

“The fuck they are!!” Eddie yelled.

“Look Eddie,” You made him look at you. “I just almost killed everyone in this room, i think I need to do damage control.”

“But that wasn’t--” he starts.

“Doesn’t matter,” you stopped him.

“If I can help kill this asshole, he won’t bother ANY Of us again. And I’ll be free,” you rubbed his cheek with your thumb.

“Don’t you want that?”

“...Yes,” He put his hands over yours still on his face.

“Alright let’s do it,” You nod at the rest of them, who nod in agreement.

This would be totally easy…right?

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#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson #eddie munson x you angst #stranger things s4 #stranger things 4 #stranger things

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angelamajiki · 4 years ago

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PARINGS: Tomura Shigaraki x Prostitute! Female! Reader

CW: yandere, noncon, degradation, choking, somno? somno, prostitutes, unprepared sex, shigaraki has a FAT crush on mirko and decided he needed to take it out on you

AN: my first shiggy fic! please mind the tags and enjoy <3

For @tomurasprincess Shigaraki Birthday Celebration Collab! enjoy bb <33

Turning 21 and still being a virgin? It was pathetic, really. His birthday was not something he was used to celebrating; there were more important things for him to divert his attention to than a petty holiday. It was just another part of society that needed to be eliminated.

But, damn it all, if Dabi wouldn’t stop pestering him about “letting off steam” down on some street corner.

“I already told you, I don’t want some cheap hooker that’s gonna squeal on us.” Tomura sighed, scratching at his neck with a frustrated vigor. “Take Giran with you if you’re that desperate. Hell, Twice might even go too.”

But Dabi didn’t budge. “I’m not doing this for me, boss. It’ll be good to stop being so pent up and pissy.”

His grin was wide and toothy. Tch, of course, this was some kind of game to him. The bastard probably wanted to see how long he would last his first time, which even he knew wouldn’t be too long. Not that he would admit that out loud, least of all to the man sitting across from him at the bar.

“I am not pent up and pissy. I’ll go as long as you’re the one paying.”

“No sweat off my back, boss. I'll take you somewhere nice. Kurogiri said it's where your old man used to go to relax.”

———

The man wasn't lying when he said the place was nice. It was too nice. Made is his skin crawl to see so much money being thrown around so carelessly. They were all disgusting, sniveling pigs who would all bow to him one day, so he paid them no mind as they passed the whores around as quick as they would a used napkin.

“See, told ya I was takin’ you somewhere nice. So pick someone you like and a room to, uh, get to know them in. I'm off.” With that, Dabi stalked off to find his own kill for the night.

But how could Tomura choose just one? There were so many choices. Women, men, those who blurred the gender lines, mutants, both pretty and ugly. But hey, everyone’s got a fetish nowadays. The elaborate costumes and lingerie they wore meant nothing to him; it would just get in the way.

His eyes scanned the room before he did a double-take over the hero section. Heroes were popular, but Christ, would people be so depraved and desperate they would pay to stick themselves in a fake one just to bust? Apparently he was one of those people tonight. When he saw those bunny ears and that bodysuit, Tomura Shigaraki was done for.

A pink flush dusted his cheeks as he approved the vixen, the imitation of the woman of his dreams, more specifically, you dressed in a Mirko cosplay, tail and all. It was naturally unrequited feelings, but damn if his cock didn't get hard at the sight of Rumi viciously tearing through villains like they weren’t even human. She would make a fine one herself. Ah, but only in his fantasies. Or so he thought until tonight.

Lanky, bone dry fingers make their way around your wrist to yank you up out of your seat. Your eyelash had bat up at him as he had walked over, his attraction towards you was obvious. But he wasn't here to play games, so your coquettish flirting did nothing but make him cringe.

“Come on, little bunny.” He tugged you along to a private room. “We’re going to play together.”

Tomura was undoubtedly more excited than when he first entered the brothel. He sat down on the room's velvet couch and spread his legs, patting his bony left thigh.

“Sit. I don't like to repeat myself, so don't make me.”

You sauntered over to him, giving a slow walk to build than anticipation, but he wasn't feeling patient tonight. Tch, hero slut thinking you impress him? You were nothing but a hole for him to corrupt.

Four fingers brought you to his lap roughly, migrating to your neck for good measure.

“Do you know who I am, Mirko?”

Was he delusional? Not really.

Possibly.

Definitely.

But that wasn't the issue at hand.

A meek “no, sir” stuttered out from your bulging eyes and reddened face as he squeezed with bitterness he didn't know he had.

“No? The number five doesn't know who I am?”

It was true then, he was just scum under her shoes. Who was he kidding? That damn rabbit bitch would kill him without a second thought.

“You think you’re so high and might don't you, hero?” He sneered venomously, tightening his grip while your arms weakly hit him. Good, he liked a challenge. “Looks like you need to be put in your place, bunny bitch.”

Your thrashing did nothing to quell his frustrated growls and huffs as he pulled the thong of the cheap bodysuit to the side—no point in disintegrating the whole thing. God, he couldn't wait to get his cock stuffed to the hilt inside you. His hard cock sprung free from his sweatpants as he pulled up the hood to his black sweatshirt.

The scene was already set in his head, a camera pointed directly at her as he corrupted her hero pussy for all of Japan to see what a whore their number five was. Unfortunately, you would have to do, alone with him in the dank room of the brothel.

God, you were just ruining everything weren't you? You hardly looked like her at all, especially with all that crying and squealing. She would never be so pathetic.

“Shut the fuck up; I’ll give you something to cry about.”

With that, he sheathed himself inside of your unprepared pussy. Oh fuck, did your walls clamp down on him perfectly. At least you were good for something.

Tomura wanted it to hurt, relishing in the screams you let out as he inched his way into your resistant cunt.

“Yeah, that's right. Scream for my cock. It's stretching you out nice and good, isn't it?”

He only got a sob as a response.

“I asked you a question, bitch.”

Ah, an enthusiastic yes. Maybe you weren't such a bad substitute after all. Heavy balls pressed snuggly against your skin as he fought the urge to cum so soon after violating you. The thought of one day being balls deep in Mirko almost sent him over the edge, but looking at your tear-stricken, choked-out expression lulled him back. Ugh, that definitely would keep him busting on the spot.

His pace was brutal as he snapped his hips into yours, snarling and growling all the way.

“You think you're too good for me, Rumi? Think you're hot shit? You're nothing but a breeding bunny for me.”

Your cunt felt heavenly clenching around him, he noticed that the harder he choked you, you squeezed his coco tighter. He quite liked the sound of your crying and pleading for him to stop, it was almost cute. Keyword being almost.

Now he's not one for pain, but damn if they sting on his thighs from slapping against your skin didn't feel just incredible. He has a fleeting thought to wonder how you're feeling, but he supposed it didn’t matter all that much. It was your job to please him, right?

“Cum on this fucking villain cock, Rumi. Show the world you're nothing more than a villain’s whore.”

It was his turn to cry, more so out of frustration as he used your body like a fleshlight, pounding into your now wet cunt mercilessly. God, if this didn't hurt knowing he'd never have her. But you seemed to do the job just fine.

The tail on the back of your bodysuit was bouncing and jumping with his thrust. What he would give just to be able to grab the real thing and hear her squeals of Tomura, more, more!

At some point, you had lost consciousness, and he couldn't find it in himself to care as he continued to chase his pleasure. He moaned louder and bolder now that you were out cold, hell, he even whined a few times. Not that anyone was around, or awake, to hear him.

He couldn't help but sob as he creamed your unresponsive cunt, hunching over your limp body and nuzzling his face into the faux ears you wore. Tomura could imagine how soft the real deal would be as they talked after, saying everything and nothing all at once.

Although it seemed it would be nothing as you were still limp and flushed under his arms. At least you were breathing and had a pulse.

Cleaning himself up, he stuffed a couple of dirty dollars into your still dripping cunt and stalked out of the room.

He’d definitely come back for round two.

#yandere tomura shigaraki #yandere tomura shigaraki x reader #tomura shigaraki x reader #tomura shigaraki #yandere my hero academia #yandere boku no hero academia #my hero fanfic #my hero x reader #yandere x reader #yandere

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kneamet · 4 years ago

Note

Thomas Sharpe says to the portrait of reader that he has always loved, loved and will love her. He says he will not accept her engagement to Count Harrison. She belongs to him. The next day, reader wakes up in a strange room tied to an armchair. She pretends to be asleep. Thomas is talking to her now.

Trigger Warning: obsession, yandere, kidnapping, jealousy

Word Count: 2439

Character: Thomas Sharpe/reader

Summary: Thomas never wanted anything more than to marry you. When he learns of your future marriage to the hated earl Garrison, he knows that something must be done.

POV Thomas

Thomas knew he couldn't afford to be silent. He'd been silent for too long, and now was the moment to snap. He won't let anyone steal you from him.

Sharpe had never expected to find the love of his lost life. That he could find someone he would love and who would love him. A girl who would take care of him, and he would protect her from people.

But it just so happens that Thomas was born in a place where your right to vote doesn't count. Especially with Lucille. He loved her, he really did, but she probably didn't understand that it was more a need for a person than love, because Sharpe could hardly survive alone in this huge house, which also needs to be provided for. And her obsession with him, which Thomas hated, was also very annoying and dripping on his brain. It was very unpleasant to be thought of as some kind of object, thanks to which you can fulfill your desires. And these were used by all the girls in his entourage.

Parents, as Thomas noted, for the most part also did not care about the emotional outbursts of children and their hobbies. Well, why care about it? They're just kids. They can also be raised by nannies and teachers who were hired.

And the women... All those moments, all the things that his late sister controlled, mostly related to the women he married and later received money from. And he didn't particularly like it. Why is she controlling him? Why him?

However, even in the largest darkness, you can find a small corner that is dedicated to light. And that light for Thomas was you. His sweetest, most beloved, and most incredible girlfriend. He would pick up so many epithets, metaphors, and comparisons with you, fearing that even they could not describe all your beauty.

He smiled dreamily. It was so nice to think and fantasize about how you would live together, you would caress him, and he would stroke your soft, honey-scented hair, telling you how much he loved you and cherished you. But what was the point of thinking about it if they were going to be together?

Thomas looked down and passed his gentle hand, which had no bruises or wounds, for which he in turn had once been scolded by Mr. Cushing, Edith's father, perhaps the only woman who could attract his attention a little and almost even accept that he could not marry you, but his thoughts quickly dissipated then.

***

"Have I ever loved anyone before you?" Thomas spoke in a low voice that echoed small and tiny in the walls of the dilapidated but pleasant-looking room. He turned his slow gaze to the beautiful Edith, who lay beside him on the slightly stiff bed, looking straight into his eyes, blue as clear water.

Thomas sighed. He didn't want to talk about you. His favorite girl, who helped him believe in himself. I knew Edith wouldn't like it.

"Yes, I did once -" Sharpe began again in a whisper, lightly squeezing the girl's light hand in his. He did not want to share his thoughts and feelings with others, because he knew that they would betray him. Otherwise, they will use it against you, which was very insulting.

Thomas looked at Edith again with a lost look, a girl who was different from the others and who might soon be dead. Damn it. He didn't think she was beautiful. She might be pretty, but there was nothing remarkable about her. Well, maybe it was just the beautiful eyes and the unusual mole above the soft lips that she didn't even try to cover up. Perhaps it was the openness that drew him to her.

But no. No, no, no, no. He won't fall for that pretty face and possibly witty mind. He only loved you. Only her flower, which fortunately her sister did not know about.

***

Thomas shook his head quickly. He didn't care now. He and Edith had never been in love. A hobby? "yes, perhaps. But no more. He can't do more than that. After all, all his steely heart and soft soul belonged to you, his childhood friends.

Childhood friends. It's been so long... Memories of his past childhood flashed through his mind as if they were the wind that tries to impress a person. His most vivid memory of you and your current fate was when you came to visit them in Crimson Peak, as your parents were busy with his parents and spent time with Thomas while Lucille was doing something else.

That's probably what influenced him back then. After all, if you hadn't been there at that time. At that difficult moment, when he was, if I may say so correctly, beaten with his stick by his mother, with whom she always went, and even connected the rod after.

And Thomas didn't know why. What did he do wrong then? What's the big deal?

He sighed and touched the small framed portrait with his palm. Before the portrait of his favorite flower. His favorite girl, who probably doesn't even know what he thinks about her right now. He couldn't remember when the portrait had come to him. If an artist came to him who painted to order and he had a photo that his beloved sent him, then it was the portrait that sent his flower.

She was so beautiful in that picture. Her light, slightly curled hair fell gently over her shoulders; her lips smiled a soft smile that wished everyone well; her nose was slightly tilted up, but it did not show disgust or contempt; her beautiful, transparent eyes looked at him intently.

Suddenly, a fleeting but painful tear ran down Sharpe's cold cheek, and with a quick swipe, it fell to the carpet, then dissolved into water.

He always liked to imagine you — the most joyful and smiling princess-marrying him of your own accord. He has so often, since that very moment in childhood, imagined how he would put a ring on your fragile finger, which would symbolize your love.

"I loved you, my flower..."

It's true. His love was always there. She started the exodus as a child and never stopped.

"... I love you..."

But still an engagement. Yes, the damned engagement party you invited him to, apparently thinking Thomas would be thrilled that you were marrying the Earl of Harrison. But no, he already hated the hell out of him. This dirty man who was unworthy of you and probably only used you.

"... And I will always love you..."

He would not allow this engagement to happen. That's not why Thomas waited, waiting for you to fall in love with him. However, he is tired of waiting and hinting to you that he loves you. You belong to him.

"After all, my flower belongs to me."

The words spoken by the portraits were immediately swallowed up by the dark house, absorbing them.

***

POV You

Oh, how you loved Earl James Harrison. He was the very person who, at a difficult time for you, your family and your family situation in general, pulled you out of such a blizzard. He was the one who helped you.

James was probably the most attractive person you've ever seen. And both in terms of external parameters, and in terms of his spiritual and mental abilities. Being very well-read and intelligent, he always found moments in which you can learn something new. Yes, it's no secret, you both learned new things thanks to each other, because each had a field in which he understood.

And when he proposed to you, you couldn't help but agree, because you knew that he loved you just as much as you loved him.

If you were a writer, the kind of writer who delves into novels, describing the tumultuous lives of people, revealing all the mysterious secrets, then you would definitely describe your relationship as very fickle, unfathomable, and possibly equal. After all, he did not humiliate you, did not lower your abilities, but treated you as an equal person, which greatly impressed you.

Very handsome was your lover: dark, brown hair that was usually scattered in a careless hairstyle, brown eyes that were carefully watching what was happening and usually beautiful clothes. Beautiful clothes. Oh, you should have one.

***

"I love you so much, James," you murmured sleepily, resting your head on the man's strong shoulder and closing your eyes. You could feel him chuckle.

"I love you too, honey," he said after a few seconds. You no longer heard it, because you were in a perfect state of sleep. In a state where you can rest.

He never stopped looking at you, smiling a gentle smile

***

Suddenly, your wrists felt very uncomfortable. There was a persistent feeling that they were rubbing against something. But what could it be? It felt like a rope woven into several knots.

And the smell... The smell was also completely different from the one in James ' room, where you went to sleep. There was the smell of old books and tart milk, and here there was the smell of clay mixed with the smell of some metal. No, if Jim didn't decide to start making toys and drag you to the workshop, then fine. But there was a smell of something else, too. Something is unclear.

You opened your eyes a little, trying to see the place you were in. You couldn't have been kidnapped, could you? Or could they? And who could it be, if we follow this theory?

However, nothing surprised you. You were in a not particularly large room, which by its own condition was basically normal, only one thing did not paint it, so it was the smell and appearance of dust that lay on the shelves with old books. You flinched a little. A large bed stood beside you, strewn with a small number of rose petals, and covered with a dark corduroy coverlet. There were large windows nearby. Does the theory about your kidnapping include that if you jump out, you'll break every bone in your body? Or were you on the first floor?"

At the bottom, or rather the floor of the room, was decorated with a large dirty carpet with large drawings of incomprehensible shapes. It seems to have been a spontaneous fantasy. Although you could see the flowers there, too. Across from the bed was a large wardrobe that probably contained all of your captor's clothes.

"I've been waiting for this moment for so long!" an eerily familiar voice exclaimed. Such a soft, husky baritone. He was definitely familiar to you.

When you heard the voice, you immediately closed your eyes. I'd rather pretend to be asleep than face the man who kidnapped you." No, you'll talk to him later, but not now. Now is not the time.

Suddenly, you heard the floorboards creak beside you and someone blocked out the light that was continuously pouring out of the window in a cold stream.

"I love you so much, my flower," a voice murmured in your ear, barely audible. His heart was pounding at a furious rate now, replaying in his brain the words that the man had spoken earlier. Who is he? What is it about? Why had he waited for this moment? Why does he love you? Do you know each other at all?

"I know that you love me as much as I love you. I know you hate that damned Earl Garrison, and you want to marry me because you only love me."

What? You tried to focus on your thoughts, trying to remember what that familiar voice was. What kind of person would dare to do something as audacious as kidnapping?

"I loved you. I've loved you since the day you comforted me in this house, protected me from my parents, and showed me your concern... I never forgot about you."

All of a sudden, you feel like you've been electrocuted. Protection, comfort, care. The words echoed in your brain. You didn't listen to the man just now, because you realized who it was.

Thomas. Thomas Sharpe. Your first person to open up to. To whom she confided all her secrets. You didn't really know him as a person, only as a child, as children, you crossed paths a couple of times, and only because your parents and his parents collaborated.

And nothing else. What kind of love is he talking about? What do his thoughts know, which he seeks to convey? Why did he think it was love? Why not a less powerful feeling?

***

The clock ticked. They gave off a slight tinkle that broke the silence that had arisen in the room. Only the soft whispers of the children trying to comfort each other could be heard. They were quiet, almost inaudible.

"I'll always help you, Thomas, just call me," you muttered to yourself, turning to the boy and scratching his dark head with your thin hand. Trying to comfort him, to show him that you care.

***

But for this to happen — by kidnapping, by declaring love, and by binding — love simply could not arise. What kind of love is in a person's need for another person, you just didn't understand. What was the point? Unclear.

"I know that you have belonged to me since the day you comforted me..."

You didn't want to hear Thomas mutter about it. If you had been bolder, you would have screamed, trying to escape, but there was no way out now. It is better to obey him. Yes, the logic was wrong at the moment, since there was no need to think like that. It is better to resist than not to try to do anything.

"...I know you belong to me..."

No, you don't belong to anyone! Since when does he want you so badly? After all, as you remember, Thomas was quite a quiet, calm and peaceful boy. And what happened now? Why is he acting like this? What does he want? Love? So why would he fall in love with someone else?

"...And I know that you will belong to me..."

The only person you'll ever belong to is James, and that's only because he belongs to you. No more than that. Doesn't that include negotiated equality?

You felt someone's soft lips touch your lips, which were very thin, but pleasant. Spiced and slightly wounded, apparently bitten, Thomas's lips were not bad

"...Because we love each other, my flower..."

#tom hiddleston #obsessive #yandere #yandere loki #yandere tom hiddleston #obsessive tom hiddleston #obsession #tom hiddleston smut #tom hiddleston x you #tom hiddleston x reader #yandere thomas sharpe #thomas sharpe x reader #thomas sharpe x you #thomas sharpe #crimson peak

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thatgoblin · 4 years ago

Text

Small Town Affairs

Summary: Hazel is an Omega in the small town of Tin Springs, Midwest America. She's trying to live her life after breaking up with the local sheriff, John Walker, and his mate, Brock Rumlow. New people aren't something that happens often, but when a new pack comes to town her whole life goes from a small mess to a complete disaster in the best way.

Warnings: Domestic Violence, Assault, Sexual abuse, Himbo Bucky, Misogyny, will update as story goes.

Chapter 1

It wasn’t often that people moved to Tin Springs, population 803. We barely had enough people to need a high school and a junior high school let alone more than a general store and gas station. There wasn’t even a Walmart for nearly 20 miles. You had to make a special trip to the larger town of Conway that had fast food restaurants and strip malls while the closest we had was a Dollar General and a ‘home style’ restaurant that was closed after 9. We did have a few bars and a strip joint, but those were just outside of town. Far enough that most people didn’t count them as being a part of town. It was very much a dying breed of Mayberry towns that used to thrive till people moved for better jobs and schools or to just get out of that small town headspace.

So when what looked like a whole fleet of moving trucks drove down the main road, everyone was talking. Turns out there was some guy with the last name Rogers that owned land that belonged to his pack that he was moving his new pack onto. The family had basically moved away or died off by the time I was 18. Most of the townspeople thought the houses on the land would stay empty till someone bought the land up for farming or to build new houses on. No one ever did and the moving trucks were telling us why it wouldn’t happen. Everyone and their dog would be gossiping and talking about who the new people were, where they came from, why they came back now, but I just ignored the whispers and gossip as I checked out folks at the general store.

“Hazel, would you be a dear and stock the shelves before you leave tonight?” The store owner, Peggy Carter, asked from her office. It sat just to the side of the register, making it easy to keep an eye on things. Her prim English accent was very much out of place in the small midwest town, but it wasn’t as crisp as it used to be when she first moved to Tin Springs.

“Sure. I’ve got my keys so I’ll lock up for you too,” I said, glancing back at her before the bell above the door rang. “Howdy,” I greeted the customers before going back to tidying my area. They were just a couple of women that were grabbing last minute items for dinner, which was the usual crowd so close to our closing time. I knew their faces, but couldn’t recall their names. I’d seen them around town, but I didn’t exactly interact with people outside of my job.

“Did you see the paper today? John Walker’s up for re-election again,” one woman said as they meandered towards the dairy section. While they sort of tried to stay quiet, the store was empty at that time of day and with it being so small that the voices carried easily.

“I saw that. He’s got my vote for sure,” the other woman said. “You know, he’s been such a good sheriff and I don’t think anyone’s running against him. It should be an easy win for him.”

“Hopefully. Things are just fine as they are now, why change them?” The first woman said. “Though, it is a bit odd that he’s with another Alpha and not an Omega.”

“I know, but Brock’s a good man. Both of them are. It’s just too bad things didn’t work out with them and that Omega girl.”

I should be used to it by now, hearing people talking about me and my exs. When you date the county sheriff and the only garage owner in town, things aren’t exactly secret. Even if they didn’t know your name or face, they knew your business.

“You know, John always said she was a good gal, but just had some problems. His mother and I play bridge at the church on Wednesday evenings and she told me that he was heartbroken over their split up. Him and Brock adored her, said they wanted to have kids too. I do hope she’s getting herself straightened out,” the second woman said.

I could handle the whispers and looks I’d get from the older Omegas in town, but this was a new low. They weren’t even trying to keep it quiet anymore.

“Just so ya’ll know, we’re closing soon, so if you’ve got some trash talking to do, do it outside where I don’t have to listen to it,” I called, earning small gasps from the women. They hurried to the front to check out, keeping their eyes down as I glared at them. If they were dumb enough to talk about me in front of me, I was not going to go easy on them. They didn’t say another word as they left, leaving me behind to glare at their backs.

“You should learn to ignore them. People will always talk,” Peggy said from the office.

“The least they could do was be discreet about it,” I mumbled. “Besides, it’s already been over a year and you’d think people would let it go and move on.”

“Well, with the new people moving in, you might get your wish,” she said. I could only hope.

The rest of the evening went by pleasantly fast. Peggy left me in charge to stock the shelves after closing. We closed usually at about 8:00 PM, no one showed up after 7:45 PM on a regular day. So to hear the door jostle as someone tried to open at 8:10 PM was odd. Frowning, I put down the pasta to look over the aisle to see a man trying to peer in. He had dirty blond hair styled back into a faux hawk of sorts, and dressed in ripped skinny jeans and a tight black tee. There were a few cuts on his face, a bandaid over his nose, and what looked like hearing aids hooks around his ears, the man stood out like a sore thumb compared to the locals. Seeing me, he put on a big smile and waved.

My first instinct was to ignore him, but since he didn’t look familiar I figured he was one of the new people in town. They wouldn’t know the hours of any of the stores in town. I decided to at least let him know the store was closed. If anything happened I had a bat under my register and pepper spray on my keys in my pocket. Going to the front, I unlocked the door before opening it.

“Hey, sorry, we’re closed,” I said as the muggy summer air came rushing in. “We close at 8.”

“Damn it,” the man hissed as he pulled out a cell phone. “Is there any other place to get groceries around here? My pack and I just moved to town and we don’t have any groceries. We’ve been working all day to get stuff into the house and didn’t realize the time.”

“Oh, uh not really, sorry,” I said. “Dollar General closes at the same time and you’d have to go to the next town over for Walmart and that’s 20 miles away.”

“What time do you guys open in the morning?” He asked, shifting his weight from one foot to the other.

“We open at 6:00 AM.” The way he looked when I told him was like witnessing a puppy being kicked. I could smell him, he was just an Omega. What harm could it do to let him in this once? Peggy had let a few people in here and there after hours, so what was one more? “Okay, so you can’t tell anyone or you’ll get me in trouble, but I can go ahead and let you in to shop. I’m just restocking shelves, so go ahead and get what you need.” Stepping aside, I let him in before locking the door behind him to keep anyone else out.

“Thank you so, so much. You’re a lifesaver, really,” he said as he grabbed a cart and proceeded to grab things off the shelf. I didn’t mind staying late, rent was going up and it was getting harder to pay, so a bit of extra time wouldn’t hurt. “I’m Clint by the way.”

“Hazel,” I replied as I went back to the shelves. Letting him fill his cart, I finished up my work before meeting him at the register. It was a lot of food, but then again how many moving trucks had showed up? “I really hope this isn’t just for you.”

“Naw, there’s 8 people in my pack. I’m hoping this will be good enough for at least dinner and breakfast, but there’s a few of us who can eat out a whole house,” Clint said with a chuckle as I scanned the items.

“Wow, that’s a lot. We don’t really have any packs at all around here. Maybe a handful, but it’s just three people at most,” I said.

“Oh yeah? We just moved here from New York. One of our Beta’s, Steve, used to live here. You might know him,” Clint said.

“Last name Rogers?” I asked, getting a nod. “Not personally. I know of the family and the land, but that’s about it,” I said with a shrug. “Alright, and total for today is $234.89.”

“Yup, sounds about right,” Clint said with a chuckle as he swiped a credit card. What did they do in New York that allowed them to buy that many groceries? Not to mention that was just for one night, I couldn’t imagine a full week’s worth. Maybe they should go to Walmart for groceries next time. “So is there anything fun to do around here?” He asked as I handed him the longest receipt I’d printed before.

“Eh. Depends on what you want to do. We have a restaurant that closes at 9:00 PM, a few bars around here, and a strip joint, but other than that there’s not much to be done unless you’re a fan of high school sports,” I said with a shrug.

“I’m going to have to give Steve a slap upside the head for bringing us to the most boring place in the world,” he sighed before looking at me wide eyed. “I mean, it’s just that it’s kinda slow compared to New York.”

“Don’t worry. I think it’s boring too, but like most of the folks that live here, it’s cheaper to stay than to move if you don’t have another job or family else where,” I said. “Sometimes the rodeo comes to the next town over and a lot of people go there.”

“Yeah, when he said this was a completely different place, I didn’t think he understood how all of us would find it so different,” Clint said as he started to load up the grocery cart.

“Here, let me help you take those out to your car. I’ll get the cart from you and you can head out,” I said, grabbing the keys to unlock the front door to let us out then relocked it.

“Thanks. You know, I guess small towns do have a lot of nice people willing to help out,” Clint said as he led the way to a black sports car.

“Sheesh, fancy,” I snorted as he popped the trunk.

“Yeah, it was a pain to drive it down the dirt driveway I have with my mate. I don’t want to part with her, but I also don’t want to ruin the undercarriage,” he said with a wince.

“That’s a bummer. There’s a car lot in town here, but I don’t know if they’d have anything your style,” I said, handing him a paper bag full of cereal.

“Howard, my mate, would shit his pants if I tried to go there,” Clint said with a chuckle. “He’s too posh to even think of buying anything pre-used. I’m pretty sure he’d have a heart attack.”

“Sounds like he’ll get comfortable real quick,” I said with a snort.

As we were finishing up putting the groceries in the car, there was a short honk and siren bwep before a sheriff’s car pulled into the spot next to Clint’s.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

Clint frowned, unsure of what was happening, but I knew.

“Howdy friend!” A familiar voice called as a blond man with bright blue eyes and an irritating smile stepped from the patrol car. Dressed in his brown and khaki uniform, Sheriff John Walker approached us. “You must be part of the pack that just moved to town.”

“Uh, yeah. Just got in today,” Clint said, shifting his body again. “I’m Clint.”

“Pleased to meet you, I’m Sheriff Walker. Figured that since I saw you in town, I’d catch you real quick for an introduction,” the man said, holding out his hand for Clint to shake. Raising a brow, Clint shook the officer’s hand.

“Nice to meet you. You’ll probably be seeing the rest of my pack throughout the week,” Clint said before closing the trunk of his car.

“You’re on the Rogers property, yeah?” John asked, resting his hands on his hips.

“That’s the one,” Clint said with a nod.

“I think I went to school with one of the Rogers’ pack. Steve, I believe his name was. He was a grade above me. His family stayed in town a while before leaving. Didn’t think we’d see anyone come back to live on the property,” John said. I wanted to get away from this conversation as fast as possible. John hadn’t even addressed me, let alone acknowledge my existence. The last thing I wanted was for him to start shit with me in front of someone.

“Probably, I mean, he’ll be in town tomorrow to get all the paperwork fixed up with his mate,” Clint said. “But I should be going. We’ve been driving all day and everyone’s tired and hungry.”

“Alright, I’ll let you go,” John said with a nod, backing up to let Clint move. I kept quiet, trying to not look John in the eye as I moved the cart back to the sidewalk. “Have a nice evening, now,” he said, typing his broad brimmed hat to Clint.

“Thanks. See you around, Hazel,” Clint said to me with a tight smile and wave. I gave a short wave back before booking it back to the store.

Don’t follow me, don’t follow me, don’t follow me.

“Hazel, wait up,” John called as he jogged to catch up with me. I wanted to scream as I stopped at the front door to unlock it. “So, you’re talking to the new people now, huh?” He said as Clint pulled out and drove away.

“John, go away. It’s none of your business and this is not part of the agreement,” I hissed, getting the door open. Shoving the cart in front of me, I tried to shut the door in his face, but he’d stuck his boot in the way.

“Look, I’m just trying to keep an eye out for you, okay? Don’t get cozy with the new people. They might be interesting, but you never know what people are really like,” he said, pushing his way into the store.

“Ironic coming from you,” I snapped, glaring at him as I moved to the register. “I’m trying to close, leave.”

“Remember what I said,” John sighed. “Don’t trust those new people.”

“I don’t trust you as far as I can throw you and we both know it’s not far,” I snarled. “Now go away or I’ll short Brock this week.”

“Fine,” he said. “But just remember, I was the one that always looked after you. Even after everyone started those rumors about you, I stuck by you.”

“A lot of good it did me. Now go.”

John looked like he might say something else, but stopped himself. Instead, he shook his head before leaving the store. Quickly, I locked the door after him. Standing there, my hands shook as tears pricked my eyes. The asshole could always get under my skin. Just a damn look and I’d be nearly in tears. As much as I wanted to believe I was stronger now and could handle myself, that small interaction showed me that he still had a grip on my life.

Finished for the night, I headed home. There were no more encounters with anyone else thankfully, allowing me to relax for the night with a beer on my porch. My house wasn’t much, a one story two bedroom house that had a less than stellar paint job, but it was home. It was old, from the 20’s, but it was sturdy. I wasn’t there much but to eat, sleep, and shower anyways.

Sitting on the porch, one beer turned into two which turned into three. It was the fourth one that I finally felt like I could stop shaking completely. The last time I had seen John and talked to him was nearly a month ago. We’d been separated for almost a year and he was being his usual passive aggressive self just to push my boundaries. He’d come into the store and made a show of talking to me like I was a kid, letting everyone see he was the calm, collected Alpha that was trying to reach out with an olive branch to fix things between the unstable Omega who just needed some gentle handling to become a decent person.

I had nearly come unglued on him, but managed to keep my voice low and my eyes down. Peggy found me right after, sobbing out behind the store. No one, not even Peggy, knew what really happened between all three of us, but I wasn’t about to tell them and neither were John and Brock. We’d come to an agreement that they would leave me alone and not talk to me unless absolutely necessary and I’d stay quiet. As well as paying them off. It was nearly half of both my paychecks, but it was worth it if it meant they didn’t come into the store when I was there or tried to talk to me at all.

But John was starting to toe the line and push back. Brock kept his part of the deal, I was pretty sure he never really cared for me, but John was always obsessive. The deal was going to have to be revisited if John didn’t back off.

Done for the night, I tossed the bottles before heading to bed.

The last few days of the work week were about the same. Go to work, come home, go to work, come home. I saw Clint now and then who came in to grab a few things here and there, but that was it. He was nice and despite John wanting to tell me who I could and couldn’t see, it felt better to know that there was someone in town who didn’t know things about me without my permission.

While we weren’t best friends, we did send memes to each other when I was on break and he wasn’t busy. At one point he messaged me a picture of his shed full of cobwebs and wasp nests and asked if it was appropriate to burn it to the ground. I told him to be careful because there could be copperheads underneath or groundhogs. That led into me explaining what those were and learning that the man had lived 37 years thinking a groundhog was something made up by a city for a holiday and it was really just a beaver they were using.

It seemed that I would be teaching him, and probably his pack vicariously, what to look out for in their new homes. I still hadn’t met the rest of the pack, though I had seen one or two here and there around town.

Soon Friday rolled around. I woke up at about 4:30 AM. Friday would be busier than usual as it was a payday. I showered then dressed, sliding on jeans and a long sleeved shirt, I then made a pot of coffee before doing my makeup. Just enough to hide the bags under my eyes and a few marks on my neck that were visible above my shirt collar.

It was my regular dress for my job at the store, Peggy didn’t care too much so long as it wasn’t offensive. Which meant anything but plain clothing and no writing. After coffee, I fixed my hair so it didn’t frizz then grabbed my thermos of coffee. I locked up then headed to work.

The sun was peeking above the trees and clouds as I pulled into work around 5:15 AM. Peggy was already there when I walked in the back.

“Did you have any problems closing the other night? I forgot to ask,” She said as I stepped into the office to get my cash drawer for the day.

“It was fine. Had one of the new people stop in, Clint. The blond that comes by for snacks. He’d made it in just after we closed, but I went ahead and let him shop since they didn’t have anything at their houses,” I said, taking the drawer from the open safe.

“Houses? You mean they’re not all in one?” She asked, looking up from her book keeping.

“There’s not a big enough house for more than four people on their property. There’s like ten of them,” I said with a snort.

“Well I’m sure we’ll meet all of them at some point. We’re the only grocery store in town,” she said.

“Unless they need to buy in bulk. Clint nearly bought everything in the store,” I said, counting my drawer at the register.

“We can only hope. Next time you see them, let them know if they need more than a few things to get us a list and we’ll get them large amounts. We used to do that a lot when there were bigger packs in my hometown,” Peggy said. The woman was nearly 60 and had lived in England up until about 30 years ago, getting the general store from her uncle who had passed away. I was used to hearing the facts of ‘We used to do this in my hometown’ a lot.

“Will do.”

Finished with setting up, I unlocked the front door and turned on the rest of the lights at 6:00 AM. The usual rush of moms right after school starts as well as early rising elderly came in, making for the usual busy rush that Peggy would step in and help with at the second register. By the time 10:00 AM rolled around, things were tapering off. We’d have a lunch rush for those grabbing a quick something, then back to a nice slowness.

“I’m gonna take my break after this last person checks out,” I said to Peggy who nodded. I was starting to get hungry and I saw a bearclaw in the donut rack that had my name on it. A few cups of coffee could only hold me over for so long before I needed actual food.

Before I could clock out for a break though, two people walked into the otherwise empty store. They were part of the new pack, just the scent alone said that, and they were Alphas. Great.

“I got this if you want,” Peggy said softly as she caught the scent too. Peggy was a sweet Beta and she acted as a stand-in grandma for me, but I couldn’t just run at every Alpha that came in.

“I’m good,” I said, giving her a small wave and smile. It wasn’t long before the Alphas came to the register. One was taller, probably over 6’, with steely blue eyes and dark, earthy brown hair with a scruff on his face. He smelt of fresh rain and peaches with that Alpha musk. Dressed in an almost too tight tee with an extra sleeve and glove covering his left arm and hand, he looked out of place in the button up work shirts and plaid that was usually worn by the adult men around town.

The other was shorter, more tailored. His light brown hair had a bit of copper to it as it was swept back from his face as that held a neatly trimmed beard. His dark eyes stayed on the phone in his hand. He too was in a tee and jeans that were fitted tighter, making them look. . . Well almost foreign. A whiff of cedar and maybe smoke or tobacco swirled into the first Alpha’s scent. Both of them mingling and making something settle deep inside my belly.

Fuck.

“Is that all for you two?” I asked, holding back with every fiber of my being any scent or sign of them making me feel like a simple, needy Omega.

“That’ll be it,” the first Alpha said. It was standard groceries of meat, cheese, dried goods, condiments, basically anything to stock up a house after moving.

“Is your pack settling in okay? Clint comes by now and then,” I said, trying to make small talk. Usually I didn’t, but something about those two had me anxious. Not a bad anxious, but. . . I couldn’t put my finger on it.

“Oh, uh yeah. We’re getting there,” he said with a nod. “It’s different than what we’re used to.”

“What are ya’ll used to?” I asked, looking from one to the other.

“A lot more people and a lot less trees,” the second Alpha spoke up, his voice lilting into an accent I couldn’t place. “But it is lovely here. I quite like how peaceful it is without masses of people a hair’s breadth away.”

“Glad you like it,” I said, giving him a soft smile. “So are all of you from New York too?”

“A few of us, but not all,” the first Alpha said as he pulled out his wallet.

“Well, hopefully it doesn’t take you long to settle in. Today’s total is $87.56,” I said, tapping a few buttons on my keypad.

“Tell me, is there a nursery around? For plants that is,” the second Alpha asked, leaning onto the counter when I started to help pack up the groceries into the cart. “I am wanting to start a flower garden, but would like to see where the supplies are first.”

“A plant nursery? Um, there is one just west of the town. Just take the main road and it’s about ten minutes from town. It’s run by the Mennonites and they have a bunch of different plants to pick from. They’ve even got starter trees for fruits and some bushes for blackberries and the like,” I said.

“Thank you. I appreciate the information,” he said with a soft smile and a nod. I couldn’t help but smile back at him.

“You’re welcome, if any of your pack needs anything just ask around. We’re all pretty friendly here,” I said as I finished putting the bags in the cart.

“I will keep that in mind,” he said, moving over to the cart to hold out his hand to me. “I am Helmut. It’s nice to meet you.”

“I’m Hazel. It’s nice to meet you both,” I said, taking his hand. It was warm and soft, different than the work roughened hands I was used to. Helmut rolled his eyes at the other, elbowing him.

“Hey,” he grumbled, shooting him a glare. “Oh, uh, I’m Bucky.” A quick wave and awkward smile was all I was given as he quickly moved to push the cart away.

“He’s house broken, I swear,” Helmut said with a wink. I couldn’t help the honest to God giggle that came out of me. “Have a good day, Hazel,” Helmut said, smiling as he shook his head at Bucky.

“You too,” I called after as they left. It didn’t even occur to me that I was staring after them till Peggy came up next to me.

“You could always ask for a photograph. It would last longer,” she said with hum.

“Oh shush,” I said, waving her off. “They were just, ya know, nice. Most Alphas around here are curt and so loud and demanding. It’s a nice change to see is all.”

“Uh huh. Even if you weren’t letting them get a scent of you, you were definitely giving them eyes. I’ve never seen you do that for anyone. Not even when you were with ‘Those-Who-Shan’t-Be-Named.’ I think it’s cute and wonderful that you had that reaction,” Peggy said as she went to the other register so I could take a break. “Besides, when’s the last time you actually touched someone on purpose?”

“It’s nothing, I’m just being nice to new people is all,” I said, locking my register computer after clocking out for a break. Quickly, I grabbed the bearclaw before leaving the dollar and change for Peggy. “It was just a handshake. Besides, you always tell me to work on my customer service skills,” I said as I walked to the back door.

“I didn’t mean it like that!” She called after me.

#john walker/oc #brock rumlow/oc #john walker/brock rumlow/oc #bucky barnes #john walker #brock rumlow #bucky barnes/helmut zemo #bucky barnes/oc #helmut zemo/oc #zemo/oc #bucky/zemo #bucky barnes/helmut zemo/oc #bucky/zemo/oc #a/b/o #marvel #fanfiction

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letstalkaboutshtufff · 5 years ago

Text

Geralt x Injured reader part 1

Part 2

Pairing: Geralt x reader (self insert)

Warnings: swearing, injury, blood, I think that's all?

Summary: Reader is feeling jealous and wanders too far from camp.

*********************

Hey guys! This is like my first fanfiction ever. And I wrote it at like 3am when I couldn't sleep. It's probably trash but if you like it I do have ideas for more! Xoxo enjoy****

Geralt x injured reader part 1

Jealousy was not a pretty color on you. And you swore riot yourself it was no such thing. After all Geralt of Rivia was just a teacher/friend you were travelling with. You had some skill with a sword, he found you trying to take down a kikkemora all by yourself, and failing miserably. After you saw how skilled he was you begged him to take you with him, to train you. He said no of course, so you just kept tagging along without his consent. At some point though he finally decided that if you were gonna come along you might as well be of some use so you made a deal.

Over the months you grew stronger but still had much to learn. After all it takes years for anyone to become a great fighter. And luckily for you, Geralt had many many many years of experience to offer you.

You enjoyed the time you spent togther, the conversation, (although you did most of the talking..) and the training, he was one of the few people in your life you felt comfortable with. Someone you could always count on. And somewhere along your travels the line between student and teacher blurred for you into something else, although you did your best to deny it at first.

You had gone off and caught feelings for the man who had no interest in real committed relationships. You knew you had it bad when you found yourself overflowing with irritation when he spent his nights in the arms of some whore at a dirty brothel.

On those nights you drank until you passed out on roach. Pretty fucking pathetic y/n.

Then came along the witch, Yennefer..

You saw how they looked at eachother, a look you'd wish Geralt would give you even for a fleeting moment.

There were creatures that had been attacking the villagers at night, so the three of you, well four since Jaskier decided to tag along when he spotted us, were tracking these monsters into the forest. You didnt mind Jaskier at all, his songs a welcome distraction from the obvious growing bond between Geralt and Yennefer.

You felt horrible for the animosity you felt towards her. She did nothing wrong and you hated that if not for your jealousy, you probably would have been close friends.

If you were a better women you could get over your silly crush and focus on your training but...

Yeah you had some growing to do. After searching the forest for a few hours, and finding nothing, everyone was tired and decided to set up camp.

Once Geralt tied down roach, he turned to address the group, "Everyone is to stay in camp, these monsters are dangerous, so if you need to take a piss, I suggest you do it behind a tent, unless you wanna risk getting your head shot off" he said rather gruffly.

Jaskier made a sound of discomfort and scooted closer to the fire.

"Dont worry jaskier, I'll protect you" you giggled.

He turned to you in amusement, "Ah yes how does go the training y/n, last I saw you, you could barely lift your sword" he teased.

"I've gotten rather good, mind if I practice on you?" You teased.

"Thanks but I think I better go and get my beauty sleep, good night" he smiled and retreated into his tent.

You went to feed roach some apples when you noticed that Geralt and Yennefer had dissapeared.

Huh? Where did they go? At first you thought they were in trouble since you didnt hear either of them say goodnight but as you got closer to the middle of camp you heard voices coming from Yennefers tent.

You told yourself not to look but you couldn't help it. And the instant you did you felt your heart break. It was one thing to see him in the arms of a whore. You knew they meant nothing to him, but in the arms of someone he cares for? That hurt...

Roughly you turned away from the kissing couple and marched away. Away from camp, away from stupid feelings and dumb petty jealousy.

It was not yennefers fault she was beautiful and powerful and brilliant. And if you were jealous then you should become just as amazing as she is. Maybe then he would notice you...

You were snapped out of your reverie when a rustle in the bushes caught your attention.

Fuck I was not supposed to leave camp...

Thinking quickly, you unsheathed your sword and held it at the ready. Its sharp edge gleaming in the moonlight.

Eyes narrowing at the bush. A moment later you were relived when a rabbit hopped out.

Phew I thought It was--

*SCRAWWWWWWWWCH*

Fuck

You barely missed the creatures slimy claws as it swiped for your head. Jumping to the side you managed to get a good look at the beast. It was rather large and spider looking, with several disgusting sets of beady eyes and a long slithering tough that dripped of something purple. So geralt was right, the creature lurking here was a visser. (Completely made it up on the spot) They're claws are sharp and quick but it's the tongue you have to watch our for. One jab, although not fatal can leave a man in bed for days from pain. 2 jabs in the same place? then your a goner. And the visser is known to be smarter, he distracts with claws and jabs quickly before you can even blink.

You knew you should probably yell for your companions. There was a chance they could hear you. But that very second you thought of yennefer and how she would be able to take on a monster like this.

That made up your mind...this monster was going to be your kill... youd finish this off and prove that you had gotten stronger if it's the last thing you do.

Although that would kind of defeat the purpose...

"Urgh" you landed roughly on the ground, one of its claws managed to swipe at you.

"Ok no more misses nice gal" regainging your stance, the glint of the moon shone on your opponent. With a visser you had a few options. Option 1, go for the head which kills instantly but the risk of a jab is highest.

Option 2 is cut off all the legs quickly then send your sword through the head. But if it dodges... you're dead meat.

Option 3, try to get under the beast where its tongue cant reach you and strike upwards. With your small stature option 3 sounded the smartest. You just had to move fast enough where it wouldnt be able to see you for a split second.

Alright y/n dont let your training go to waste! This is your chance to prove yourself.

Running faster than you've ever ran before, you circled around the visser waiting for when the creature was even a second slow and could not see you. The right moment was.....

Now! You sprinted forward and slid under its legs.

"Scrawaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaachh" the monster howled in pain as you slammed your sword directly up getting covered in visser guts in the process.

"Blegh how disgusting.." you swiped the guts off your face and stood in front of the slain beast.

For once in a long time you felt proud of yourself. You slayed a monster all by yourself, even Geralt said you hadn't been ready yet and often told you to stay back during fights. But he would have to eat up his words now hehe. You could just imagine everyone's faces when you would tell them.

You were too wrapped up in your glory to notice a second visser sneaking up behind you.

By the time you heard its screech, it was too late. Its slimy black tongue had struck your stomach leaving a sizzling pain behind it.

"FUCK" unsheathing your sword again, you tried to maneuver far enough out of its reach to thing of a plan. There was no way you could pull on option 3 again with the way your core burned. One more jab and it would be over. Damn it! why couldn't you just have your victory and be done with it!

One hand clutched at your injury while the other was positioned weakly in front of you. Your eyes blurred slights but you refused to let this shit swamp be your final resting place.

The burning subsided to an ache and you used that opportunity to make a mad dash into the thicket. You needed to think of a plan and quick, it would not take long for the visser to catch up with you, especially now that you had that stupid injury.

"Srawwwwwwwwwch" it sounded like it was right behind you. Fuck fuck fuck.

And then because mother nature decided to be a BITCH, you tripped on a large tree root and tumbled forward.

"Scraeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeech" you flipped over quickly and shut your eyes as the visser was basically on top of you. 3 more seconds and you would be dead.

3, how pathetic y/n, after all these promises you made to yourself about becoming someone worth being proud of you fuck up the one chance you had.

2, maybe it's better this way, would anyone even miss you? Jaskier would, maybe he would even write a song about you..

1, I'm sorry I was an idiot...Geralt I'll watch over you...

"SWOOOOOOOOSH" the unmistakable sweet sound of metal slicing through flesh made your eyes shoot wide open.

"Geralt!" He stood out of breath hovering over the now beheaded visser. His sharp golden eyes moved from the beast, to you.

Without a word he reached over and pulled you up without a hint of gentleness. You hid your wince at the sudden movement. Not wanting to let anyone know that the visser had gotten the better of you.

"What happened" he bit out slowly. Fuck he was angry. "Why did you leave camp y/n when I explicitly told you not to" his feline eyes bore into yours and suddenly you felt too intimated and looked away.

Ah yes what excuse will I come up with now. Sorry Geralt I had to leave because I felt immense pressure and heartache seeing you and Yennefer over there locking lips and most passionately I might add.

When he noticed my hesitation he let out a growl, "Hmm, don't lie to me"

Fuuuuuuuuuck...

"I-I didnt mean to, really... I couldn't sleep so I was walking close to camp and I didnt even realize I had wandered so far until the other visser attacked." You looked him in the eyes knowing it would better your chances of him believing it.

He stared at you a few more seconds before letting out a sigh.

" You killed it" he said bluntly, and softer than before.

"I did.." you couldn't help the small smile that formed on your face. He sighed again, this time he had a small smirk on his face, "Well I guess you have learnt some things after all" he patted your shoulder but pulled away when Yennefer and Jaskier appeared.

"Y/n thank god your alive, are you alright?!" Jaskier grabbed your shoulders and scanned you for injuries. Luckily your stomach was covered by your armor, visser Jabs were known for hurting like hell at first, seeming to get better shortly after, then coming back tenfold. Right now you were at stage two, the calm before the storm..

Yennefer made a comment about how impressive you were to slay the visser and you hated yourself for still feeling ill towards her. She was a great person and you could not blame Geralt for liking her. It was just an unfortunate situation.

The walk back was quiet and the second you were in your tent again you dared to take a look at the wound. Gingerly you unbuckled your armor and lifted up your shirt.

You let out a small sigh of relief. It just looked like a large bruise. Nothing you couldn't pass off as a "I fell off roach" kinda injury.

As positive as you tried to be, you knew the worst was yet to come. But by god you were not about to let your victory be ruined by your companions knowing of this. Especially since Yennefer and Geralt could've slain the beast without a scratch.

Somehow you were lucky and slept the rest of the night in peace. It was early when jaskier came to wake you. Although you slept plenty, you felt just as exausted as you did after your late night encounter.

Before putting on your armor, you dared to look at the wound again. You regretted it the moment you did.

Fuck me... the bruise was much darker than before and covered a larger area. As for the pain, it felt only slightly more sore which was good for now. The last thing you wanted was for anyone to find out about it.

Quickly you threw togther the rest of your things and met the others. According to the village leader there was one more visser out there so we continued our search deeper into the forest. It was around noon when the pain intensified. It started as a constant dull ache but gradually became a burning sensation. It was becoming harder to hide it.

You made up some excuse to the group and sat on top of roach. You were sure if you had to walk anymore you would have fallen over. Luckily for awhile jaskier was more preoccupied with his latest ballad and geralt and yen were wrapped up in some serious conversation. You didnt realize how far you were lagging behind until jaskier turned to you.

"Y/n?" He walked over to you and pulled on roaches reigns making him go a little faster.

"Hm" was all you could manage.

"Are you alright? You're sweating so much"

Confused you ran a hand over your head. He was right, you were and didnt even feel it.

"Yo- sic- rest-" what? Why was Jaskier talking gibberish...and why is he so blurry?

You didnt even feel yourself pitching to the side, just the woosh of air through your ears.

"Y/N!? Y/N what's wrong?!?!" Jaskier barely managed to catch your half conscious form. "GERALT!" The witcher swung around sword at the ready but widened his eyes in shock at what he saw.

Y/n was on the floor, breathing heavily and being propped up by Jaskier.

Geralt and Yennefer quickly ran over. The witchers eyes narrowed in concern when he saw the state of her. She was sweating profusely and looked to be struggling with something. Yennefer raised a hand to her forehead but shook her head. "Its not a fever".

Geralt held her up, lightly smacking her face, he grew even more worried when she didnt react.

"Jaskier what happened"

"I don't know, I noticed she was falling behind so I went to check on her, then I noticed she looked sick, I was telling her we should stop and rest but then she just collapsed. She seemed really out of it too.

At that moment a grunt of pain escaped y/n's lips, and her eyes slowly opened.

You were confused as to why when you opened your eyes, gerald's golden ones were staring at yours with intense concern.

"Y/n can you hear me??" he questioned furrowing his brows.

"I-I ahhhgh" you screwed your eyes shut as the pain intensified. It felt like someone had set your stomach on fire.

This only confused geralt more, "you're hurt" he said as more of a statement.

"Where is the pain y/n," the gentle voice of yennefer surrounded you. Ugh why couldn't she just be a bitch, it would make things so much easier.

You tried speaking but a moan left your lips instead. Fuck this hurt worse than anything you had encountered before.

Geralt closed his eyes as if he had a sudden realization, "you got hit by the visser didnt you"

When you didnt speak but he saw the look in your eyes he knew it was true. "Fuck".

Quickly he began removing your armor and saw the injury peeking from under your shirt. He wasted no time lifting it up just until below your chest. You heard small gasps but were too out of it to know from who.

"Fuck y/n, why didn't you say anything??" Geralt scolded as he examined the wound.

Luckily you didnt have to answer, just focus on breathing heavily.

"Will she be alright?!" The frantic voice of jaskier floated through your ears.

"It would have been better if she told us from the beginning, with a visser attack you need to stay still as much as you can. However by the looks of it she only got hit once, which means she still has a chance."

"What can we do?" Was it yennefer or jaskier who said that?

Geralt pulled a sack from roach and rummaged through it till he pulled out a yellowish filled bottle.

Lifting y/n with one arm he pulled the cork with his teeth and gently placed it between her lips. "Drink y/n" without a second thought you downed the strange liquid coughing as it burned your throat like liquor.

"What is that?" Jaskier asked curiously.

" it's for the pain, it'll make her feel like shes dreaming." Geralt threw her armor onto roach and lifted her up carefully into his arms. "Let's go" he ordered and the troup was once again on their way. Geralt gave one look at the now sleeping y/n and sighed. What was she thinking?

***************************

When you opened your eyes the first thing you did was let out a girlish laugh.

Geralt was surprised for a moment since you had been silently resting in his arms for a long time. "Y/n?"

"Geralt! You've dyed your hair pink! How adorable!" You reached up and pulled at the cotton soft locks.

The witcher sighed, knowing this was the effect of the medicine. Jaskier and yennefer let out a small laugh at the scene of the two.

"Go back to sleep y/n, you need rest" he commanded softly.

"GERALT!" you suddenly exclaimed! "Oh no you cant be the white wolf anymore! Oh no oh no oh no WAIT I GOT IT! YOU CAN BE THE PINK PONY! QUICK JASKIER WRITE THIS DOWN!!"

"Ah yes the witcher, pink pony of the north, has a nice ring to it" jaskier couldn't contain his laughter.

Geralt decide it best to ignore her and keep walking forward.

"Geralt?" He chose to ignore her again. "Geralt....?"

"Gerrrrrallllllt?"

"GERALT!"

"Geralt geralt geralt geralt geralt geralt"

"What?!" He bit out annoyed.

"Do you think I'm pretty? hehe" he was caught off guard and was not sure how to answer. It didnt help the other two were just giggling behind him.

"I um....yeah" he said awkwardly.

"So I dont look like a troll?" You asked earnestly.

"Pfft what?" Now geralt was the one who couldn't control his laughter.

"Don't laugh!" You suddenly pouted. "A long time ago one of my lovers said I looked like a troll when he broke up with me.."

Still amused geralt shifted you to meet his eyes, "No y/n, you do not look like a troll"

"Phew thank god, I dont know what I would have done..." you laid a hand against your head dramatically.

"Now will you please stop squirming and go back to sleep" geralt sighed out.

"Hmmmmmmmmmmm......alright I've decided to go to sleep since I need sleep and it's what I have decided" you saluted the air.

"Finally.." he grumbled.

With a smile you reached both arms around his neck and brought your soft lips to his unshaven cheek.

"Goodnight pinky, sweet creams" he was shocked for a moment then let out an exasperated laugh.

"Goodnight y/n...sweet creams"

******************

To be continued in part 2!

#geralt of rivia #geralt #geralt x oc #geralt x reader #fanfiction #fanfic #the witcher #netflix #reader injured #injuries #hurt #angry geralt #yennefer of vengerberg #jaskier #part 1 #geralt x injured reader #geralt x injured reader part 1 #geralt x injured reader pt 1

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toloveawarlord · 4 years ago

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Ch. 6

Characters: Edgar Bright, Iris Adley, Sean

Pairing: Edgar x Iris

Tagging: @plumpblueberry

“You can’t blame them for being curious. No one knows what Sir Edgar is having you do as his second,” Sean said, lounging back on the perfectly made bed. He and all the others that were under the Jack of Hearts were hovering around me, asking an infinite amount of questions about the allusive and mysterious Edgar Bright…ever since he appointed me as his second.

I buttoned up my uniform shirt with visible annoyance. “I’m basically a glorified secretary, organizing documents, keeping notes about important dates and meetings, and pretending to be him when penning letters that he finds too boring while he sits on the sofa sipping tea.”

It wasn’t that he didn’t work. Soldiers came and went all day long with reports and documents. When he wasn’t in his quarters, he was in meetings with Jonah and Lancelot or officials in Central Quarter, on top of training his own troop of soldiers with a warm smile and steel fist. And yet, when we were alone, he turned into a candy gobbling child that enjoyed causing me a headache.

“Aren’t you tired? You don’t return from your duties until the early morning hours and then turn around and be up at first call at 7 like the rest of us.” He was just as intrigued by my new position as the others, but for more reasons. Every day he asked if we’d spoken about my predicament and the answer remained a stern no.

“Tired of his ridiculously idiot game? Yes.”

“Aw, that’s no way to speak about your adoring superior.”

The only slightly peaceful part of my day came crashing down at the presence of the Jack of Hearts. He’d let himself into the room without any warning, apparently a recurring trait of his. I can’t exactly complain, outwardly at least.

I rested against the bed to slip on my boots, tugging the laces extra tight while imaging the thin string to be around his neck. The whispers from the hallway not so quiet, nearly bringing a large commotion to the barrack hallway. “I’ll assume you’re here for business, sir.”

“Sean, you will be in Central Quarter today.” Edgar gave the order with a hint of edge to his voice. He received a salute and Sean scuttled off to leave us. One quick glance over his shoulder and the rest of the soldiers scattered before those mischievous jade irises were turned on me. “You will be accompanying to patrol the forest. Won’t that be fun, Iris?”

“Are you going to insist on calling me that when we’re alone?”

“It is your name. Besides, the expressions you make are worth any risk.”

I swiped my hat from the rack, settling it on my blonde locks, adjusting it with stiff movements. I made a silent vow to work on how I outwardly reacted to his taunts, if only to irritate him a fraction of how he irritated him.

Outside of his personal unit, the soldiers continued to treat me like an outsider. They glared when they thought none of the ranking officers were watching. They whispered in ear shot of me, insisting on being petty about my sudden rise in position. Only the ones within Edgar’s unit had begun to accept me, at least enough to not avoid me during meals and free time.

The leaves crunched beneath his boots, the Jack of Hearts strolling with a spring his step. His good mood almost contagious. It was strange, simultaneously keeping up my guard while also lowering it at times around him. He hadn’t broken his word and exposed my secret. “Iris, lost in thought, are we? I do hope it’s me on your mind.”

Jade irises mischievously reflecting my own clear, blue ones. Edgar’s face mere inches.

I took a step back only to hit a tree. The pain dull but grounded me back in reality.

Quick to close the distance, like a wild cat slinking up to its cornered prey, Edgar’s grin grew wider. “You make a pretty boy, but I prefer the real Iris.” Gloved fingers expertly removing the earring and pocketing it in seconds. “I’ll hold onto this until it’s time to return.”

Without the magic, nothing hid the fact that I was a woman. It would be unlikely for the army to send multiple soldiers on this patrol, but not unheard of. And yet, winning an argument with a rock was more attainable than reasoning with the gentle demon.

The forest was peaceful. Although not many ventured in due to the rumors surrounding it, bandits tended to gather on occasion. The town was abuzz with talk of some unsavory types moving between Central Quarter and the Forbidden Forest. Edgar had been tasked with uncovering and eliminating them.

“I did some digging, but there’s no record of where your brother disappeared to. Not even your parents have any inkling. I suspect that you have some idea.” He broke the silence as he adjusted his gait to fall in step with me.

“I don’t. He never told me where he was going. Only that the girl he’d fallen obsessively in love with was the reason he wouldn’t take his position in the army.” The night he’d left still seared freshly in my mind. It made little sense. He had been handed the fourth highest rank in the Red Army and he abandoned it for a woman.

Edgar hummed in response, gaze lifting to the treetops above us. “Peculiar, but I hear that love makes one do crazy things.”

“He’s an absolute fool. Love is an abstract idea that is fleeting. He barely knew her, and yet he threw away his whole life, making a traitor of himself, of our family. For what?” He’d said that he might be gone for a while, years. At that time, it would be much too late. Our family would be ostracized, the position given by birthright erased and passed on to some distant blood relative.

“You’ve never been in love, have you, Iris?”

I gave him a disgusted glare before replying, “No. I’ll wager you haven’t either.”

He snickered from behind his palm, not making any attempts to avoid my slap to his arm. “You’re right. I’ve little time for dalliances with women. I have been approached, but taking a wife is not of importance to me.” For a second, the facade slipped, and I saw the flash of melancholy cross his features. Then it was gone, replaced with that empty smile. “I imagine you’ve had plenty of men throwing themselves at you.”

“You mean at my father.” I shivered in absolute revulsion. None of them had approached me directly. Whispers of how I could be harsh and hard to please were always circling me like rampant sharks. Negotiations went through my father, and I never accepted a single one. “I have no desire to be someone’s wife.”

“You’d rather be a solider?”

There was no judgement or ridicule in his question, as it had been with all the men previous in my life. Any time I trained with a sword or learned hand to hand combat, they all had a similar tone. It’s not for a woman. I would prove them all wrong. “Yes. Only the Red Army has rules against women joining. It seems obvious that after 500 years, perhaps a different perspective might be advantageous.”

“War is not made for the weak.”

“Weak and female are not synonymous.”

Jade eyes crinkled as he smiled at me. “Oh, I’m well aware of your strengths, Iris. And I, for one, have no qualms with you being in the army. It’s not simply a matter of changing laws.”

The politics. It’s always about the politics among the Red elites.

The scent of smoke drifted through the trees, silencing our discussion. The rumors were proving to be true. We both became silent, like ghosts leaving no trace of their existence as we neared the campsite. Only one man guarded the camp.

“We’ll wait until nightfall, and all of them are to be captured.” His whisper carried the weight of his position. The teasing superior vanished without a trace, replaced with the Jack of Hearts giving his soldier an unbreakable order. His gaze only flickered to me long enough to see my nod before returning to our targets.

They came and went, five of them in total. As the sun began to slide beyond the horizon. Once the light faded, the group all gathered around the fire, clinking dirty glasses of stolen booze, and rifling through their treasures. Edgar gave a signal, directing me to circle to the other side.

Blending in with the darkness was easy. The moon cast slivers of silver light between the leaves rustling in the wind. I crouched by a thick bush, waiting patiently for our moment to attack. I hadn’t, however, expected him to announce himself.

“Good evening, gentlemen.” Edgar startled the whole lot of them, hand lightly gripping the hilt of his sword. The fire crackled as one choked on his drink at the sudden appearance of the officer. “You’ve caused quite the ruckus in town. It’s time to answer for your crimes.”

Swords and knives were drawn, all eyes focused solely on the single man in the crisp white uniform. Their bravery coupled with cowardice as they collectively moved the opposite direction with slow steps, save for their so-called leader. He alone faced the gentle demon with a scowl.

He gave a howl and lunged at Edgar, only to grab air and lose his breath as his torso connected with the Jack of Heart’s knee.

Tension rose through the campsite. Some were frozen in their spot, watching the imminent defeat of their boss. But one... there’s always one, who decides to save themselves and run.

Unlucky for him.

The wheeze that passed his lips when I wrenched my elbow back into his throat divided the attention. He collapsed to the dirt, body curling up as he clutched his neck and struggled to catch his breath. “How pathetic,” I said, drawing my own sword from its sheath.

There’s two of them?

Who cares! Just take them out and let’s get out of here!

They were barely worth any effort. Their form sloppy and no coordination between them. Although it hadn’t been too long since being under Edgar’s guidance, I had picked up on some quirks of his. In the beginning, the soldiers in the unit avoided me, leaving Edgar to spar with me most of the time. I’d learned his movements quite well.

“I’m impressed. You’ve done so well,” Edgar praised with a pat on my shoulder. He chuckled as I brushed it off.

I finished the knot on the last rope, creating a line of prisoners so they couldn’t try to escape. “I didn’t ask for your evaluation.”

“But that’s my job. Your hand to hand could use a little work. I’d be happy to teach you.” His eager grin disappeared at the voice of the leader of the bandits. I hadn’t witnessed the demon side of him until now.

Since when did the Red Army employ women?

I turned away, remembering that he still had my earring and no magic had shielded my features. Edgar slipped it into my palm without a word before slinking up to the angered prisoner.

“He is quite pretty for a boy, I’ll admit. You’d do well to keep your mouth shut.” The malice laced in his words paired perfectly with the dagger pressed a little too hard against his prey’s throat. His threat received with a silent nod.

I trailed behind, lost deeply in thought. It hadn’t been necessary. There was no reason for him to say anything. No one would have believed the word of a criminal over the Jack. There’s no logical reasoning behind why Edgar had protected me, nor why I can’t simply say thank you and move on.

My cheeks were unbearably hot.

Why did he confuse me so much?

#ikemen revolution #ikerev #edgar bright #iris adley #ikerev oc #finally #iris is beginning to have feelings #even though she has no idea what those feelings are

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alias-b · 5 years ago

Text

sins of my youth. 003

Billy Hargrove x OC! Evie Fenny~ Also posted to my AO3

Summary: It was common knowledge that Billy Hargrove hated Hawkins. Hated Cherry Lane. Even loathed the strange girl next door. Evie Fenny wasn’t too fond of the chaotic Cali transfer either. An awful high school tradition sparks a chain of events that changes everything, ultimately bringing two frayed souls together.

A/N: Hey all! Enjoy the chapter. Billy trying again to woo Evie. They strike up a bet. TW: Pica. Light fatphobia. Taglist open :)

Chapter 3: To The Devil

“Hey, Karen, here for the two o’clock?” Evie was jotting down slanted notes at reception, crossing the name off. Mona’s salon smelled of mousse and hairspray. Fans blared to keep the air moving. Karen beamed back.

“I am. Need a touch up.” She touched her waves to give them a flick. "I'm so jealous of your curls, how do you get them to sit like that?"

"Genetics, I'm afraid. Ah, I just dip myself in water and pray for the best." The dry humor she was known for. "Mom has them too, if only she didn't inject a gallon of product into her hair every morning."

"Water. Innovative. Your secret is safe with me." Karen paused to laugh when Evie grinned, nodding as she finished the notes.

“Seat four, Claudia’s getting your stuff ready now.” A smile beamed.

“Thanks, sweetie. You’re mom in back too?”

“Yeah, fixing the music, she’ll be out in a sec.” Evie flicked a page and peered around. Yellow walls with baby blue trim. Similar to a dollhouse her mother made once. Too many plants to count, but that was Evie's fault.

She did rounds and cared for each one. Even the new bloom of begonias in one of the back rooms hanging just out a window. Twisting silk petals all blushed and unfurled.

Evie watered them, let the soil grow damp. Listened to the thumping of a dryer full of towels behind her in the cramped space. A rhythm she could write a song to. She saw a fallen petal and plucked it up. Felt the baby smooth texture between her finger pads.

Lifted it idly to her cheek. Let it caress her skin in one graze. It comforted, the mere touch of it. And the calm stillness that followed as if someone was holding her welled euphoria. The petal ran her lips, she felt in control of her senses. This touch that was warm and ticklish. Evie gave a shuddered breath and just wondered.

Wondered.

Evie spent too much of her life wondering.

The petal touched her tongue and she half expected it to melt like a chocolate. Rich and silky. She rolled it damp around her mouth. Chewed for an earthy twang. Looking at the flowers. Feeling them across her running palms. Gently bouncing into place before she swallowed. Evie turned quick, jolting back into her skin for one fleeting moment.

She was aware again. She was here. Still patting her cheek to stay grounded. Maybe the flowers would bloom a dainty beauty inside her. A delicate sensibility that’s evaded her all this life. Another flower petal plucked.

He loves me.

He loves me not.

Fingers pulled a begonia clean. Chanted the little game in her head.

He loves me.

Swallowed. There was a slight of guilt. She’d stolen the power from this living thing and brought it into her own being. That washed away. She was carrying it now. Patting her cheek again to console herself.

No one noticed Evie hidden in the back room. Indulging in control. It felt like a dirty school girl secret. Evie dipped her fingers into the wet soil. Sighed and let the earth fall back into the plot. She brought them up to see the filth. Thought to lick herself clean.

“Evie, can you bring the broom out?” A voice had her heart bursting. Evie yanked the watering can close, feeling the weight of liquid slosh. Her mother was next door fussing with music still. Blissfully unaware. Their usual relationship.

“Y-Yes!” She felt this shame etch her spine. The rush of being caught doing something she shouldn’t have. Which Evie Fenny was already no stranger to. She washed the evidence away and snatched a broom handle. “Coming!”

“Thanks, honey.” Claudia took it and let Evie go about her business. Watering the last few pots at reception.

The bell dinged right behind her as she stretched to water a pot above the door hanging from the ceiling, tip toeing upon a wooden stool.

Billy stood there, face at ass level and didn’t stop her. Not that he minded the view. A pink frilly apron over her violet dress. Black tights and belt to match. Big shiny hoops dangling caught the light above her, illuminating dark hair with a halo. Curls shifted and she eyed Billy Hargrove at the same time the music blasted back up. Dolly Parton of course.

Here you come again

Just when I've begun to get myself together

"Angel...what a view." His bright eyes scanned, full of glittery stars. Tongue crossing pink lips in a vaguely obscene way.

“Billy?” She hitched a breathy gasp and stumbled. Braced to fall on her ass before an arm swooped out to stop her. Muscles pulled Evie into a chest. A very cologned, hard chest. Those damn stars danced like she was in a movie, draped into Billy with the watering can clutched tight. Shifting around. Air sent their hair up and the door shut.

Dolly’s lyric timing was really the worst.

You waltz right in the door

Just like you've done before

And wrap my heart 'round your little finger...

Billy and his long lashes. Fluttering so pretty at her. Pulling her flush into the metalwork of his hot body. Evie lost herself.

Swept up in his arms with no words. No synapses obeying her body’s commands. She choked there looking like the cover of a romance novel. Blushed at him. Flowers in full bloom.

“You won’t soak my head if I make a joke about you falling from heaven, will you?”

There he is. Evie rolled her eyes and found her footing.

“Oh, but I will.” Hands pushed him to arm's length. No thank you followed.

“Hon, you alright?” Claudia had dropped her shampoo bottle. Few women echoed the call, eyes on the gorgeous boy who just strode in. Evie was quick to step from him.

“Fine, fine, I’m…” Evie brushed herself awkwardly and went around the reception counter. Mostly to put distance between them, setting the can aside. Billy followed after to lean against the wood so she kept her voice low. “What are you doing here?”

“I got bored.” He crossed his arms there to shrug, dressed to the nines and hair all done up. Eyes flicking. “Nice apron.”

Evie scowled at him.

“If you’re asking me to that party again, the answer is still-”

“Billy! How nice of you to visit, I hope I see Susan in here again soon.” Mona swept toward them. Both teens leaned out from each other. Billy flashed his teeth, all charm.

“She’s never felt better since coming in for the new do. Made my old man crazy.” He ignored Evie glaring at him.

“That’s what I love to hear.” Mona came up to pat his cheek. Billy slid his eyes to her daughter. “What can we do for you?” She touched golden hair to sweep it aside. Mona was just the friendly sort. “You know, we do boy’s hair too. All the time. You look like you take care of these darling curls.”

“I’ll keep that in mind, but actually I was just walking by and I saw Evie in her apron and thought we’d hit that burger joint for lunch.” His shiny teeth flashed to smile so Evie cut in.

“And,” her voice rose, “I was just carefully explaining to Billy that we’re super swamped today. I couldn’t possibly go. Shucks.”

Both Mona and Billy peered to see exactly three customers getting their hair done. No one outside. The appointment book near empty too.

“So busy.” Evie pressed her teeth, eyebrows lifting for her mother to get the hint. "Extremely."

She didn’t.

“Oh, no, Evie. It’s your winter break." Arms waved at her daughter. Near ready to give Billy Evie's hand in marriage. "Go have some fun with the nice young man.”

What a laugh.

“Are you sure? I can stay...literally all day here. I can move in here and never have to leave ever. Never. Ever.” Evie was getting her apron snatched off by her mother. A couple shoves got her around the counter.

“No, no. Go, shoo, have fun with a boy. Good to see you, Billy. Tell your parents that I said, hi. Have Susan bring your little sister in next time. What I wouldn’t give to style that pretty red hair she has.”

“I’ll let them know.” Billy actually held the door for Evie as she shrugged on her coat. Another heated expression before she huffed and went out. Ire. He can work with that. “Bye, ladies.” A wink.

“Bye, Billy.” Came the chorus. Both teens grinned all the way to the end of the window before hands snatched Billy’s collar when they were out of sight.

“What the hell are you doing, Billy?” Evie shook him by the leather jacket. Even the scrunching snarl at him was cute. Actually had his taller, broad frame pressed into a brick wall. Made Billy pause to observe her face. Mauve lips frowned deeper.

This was a cruel thing and she couldn’t stand it. This back and forth. These sides of Billy that only came out when it suited him best.

“Making it up to you. Christ, just fucking let me. Easy...” He shrugged off, going around her. She was being difficult about this, maybe rightfully so, but it still gnawed at him.

“C’mon.” Billy went on. Not bothered by the cold in his white button up shirt and jeans. Tucked and tight. The gold saint chain bounced against his chest as he walked. Hard, intent steps with a lazy wave. “You like burgers? Who doesn’t, I’m hungry.”

“I don’t need you to make it up to me, Billy.” She trailed after him. “This weird game you’re playing really doesn’t interest me.”

“This town is so fucking boring. You know that?” He spoke instead, clicking his tongue and looking beyond them. “Got nothing to do, why not hang out? We’re neighbors.”

“When have you acted like a neighbor?”

“Right fucking now, Angel.” Blue eyes shifted to spot the right building.

He was such an ass and she was still willingly walking beside him.

“Ask Tommy or Carol to hang out.”

“No one likes Tommy or Carol, would you want to hang out with them in your free time? Fucking annoying. Carol wants to fuck me and Tommy? ...You know, he might want to fuck me too. I'm the whole package.”

“So, you’re with me because I’m not annoying like them and I don’t want to fuck you?”

Billy turned sharp to see her at the crosswalk. Golden curls swept up. Almost offended.

“Who said you didn’t want to fuck me?” The shit asked it so genuinely too. "I never said that."

“Literally me, just now.” She pressed the walk button because he had her under a spell and Billy went before it changed. “Ugh.” Evie, ignoring her better judgment, paced after him. Street was empty.

“You’re plenty annoying, Fenny.” Billy strode inside the diner and didn’t wait before he grabbed a table. Slapped a plastic menu down across the way until she moved to take the offered seat. A waitress appeared from nothing, but Evie figured Billy just had that effect.

“Know what you want, sugar?”

“Number three. Coke. Cheese Fries. Jalapenos on the burger and on the fries. And whatever the lady wants.” He stole an ashtray and dug for a smoke, not looking at either girl. Few people eyed them and Evie gave in.

They were both still pretty hungover and she didn’t want to make a scene. Which Billy knew well and used to his advantage.

“I will have the exact same thing.”

“Are you sure?” The waitress looked Evie up and down as she said that. Oh, so carefully. Evie paused to tense up, acutely aware that she didn’t look right across from this gorgeous, golden boy.

The thought hadn’t even struck her until it was pointed out, that’s what sobered it painfully.

“Yeah, she’s sure. We’ll take a large chocolate milkshake also. Two straws.” Billy snapped, flicking his menu up. The waitress bowed her head and hurried away. Evie’s jaw hung open while he played with his lighter distractedly. Eyes flicked up. “What, are you catching flies over there?” He lit a cigarette and her mouth shut.

“I’m in the fucking Twilight Zone.” Elbows hit the table

“That stuff you said Heather liked...” Billy tapped his ashes. Ignored the waitress when she set Cokes down. “That was about you, wasn’t it?”

“Yeah, so?”

“Museums and horror flicks. Noted.” He shrugged. “You into that poetry shit? Always writing.”

“Song lyrics.” Evie took a breath and answered slower. This was weird. It was weird that...it wasn’t so weird all the sudden. Billy did what suited him. Blue eyes lingering on her then darting all over. He sat back with one boot up on the seat. Actually listening. Smoking. Present. “I play guitar and sing."

Yeah, he heard her guitar from his window every other night if it was open.

"You're always writing too," she went on, "I know it isn't school work." Observant.

"I'd rather write some shitty story than listen to a lecture about nothing in class." Billy's ashes hit the tray again. “Are you going to be the next Dolly?”

“My mom would love that.” She broke to laugh at herself and sip. “More Kate Bush or Stevie Nicks.”

“Thank fuck, one Dolly is enough.” He snuffed his smoke out. “Why won’t you go to the party with me?”

“Why do you suck with rejection?” She asked it bolder than intended. Half expected Billy to get upset and walk out. Smoke etched out his pink lips when he chuckled, catching his tongue between teeth. This girl was all four seasons in one spitting firecracker.

“You got a wall up bigger than your mom’s hair, Evangeline.”

“I built it myself, William, thanks.” Evie smiled sweetly that time, gazes locked. He twitched at the use of his birth name. A beat of staring before food arrived.

“Will that be-?”

“Yeah, we’re good.” Billy plucked a fry up, watched melted cheese string from it before he chewed and the waitress saw herself off. “Don’t tell me you’re not gonna eat like normal in front of me.”

He caught Evie picking up a knife and fork. She shot him a look. Dropped them and stole the milkshake to sip. Passed it over for him before she went for the burger.

“There you go.”

“Stuff it.” She grabbed a fry and watched him take the biggest bite he could. Cheese drooped out the bottom. “Hangover miracle, huh.”

“Hmm.” Billy was too busy chewing. Evie took a bite, sipped more coke and decided to engage this.

“Can I ask why your dad moved you across the country during your last year of high school?”

“New bullshit job.” He went at his fries, smearing them around cheese to eat with crunching jalapenos. “Wanted to start his white picket fence over since it didn’t work the first time and he thought he could spite me in the process.”

Billy licked his thumb, eyes elsewhere.

“I’ll bet he just wanted away from memories of my mom.”

Evie paused carefully. It was the first he’d spoken of her.

“Oh.” She pulled for a napkin, eyes on her food. Peculiar how quick he got real with her here. Billy Hargrove was usually putting up thick layers of artificial bullshit. Plastic cheese on greasy fries.

“Didn’t help that I was in and out of fights.”

“That changed?” She reached for the milkshake. “So, your mom-”

“Did you really get into a fight last year?” Billy had finished the burger and was now going at his fries again, gestured so she slid the milkshake back.

“I don’t remember it well.”

“Bullshit, Fenny.” He smirked to himself. “I’d know. You see red and you remember how it tastes every single time.”

“You’re the expert.” She shrugged, wiping her greasy fingers on napkins. Left a few bites of burger because a voice drilled to do so. Same with the fries. “He was a jerk and...my parents just got divorced. I was upset. I let him have it. Everyone got dramatic about it because I’m Evie Fenny and not Randy Savage.”

"So, how'd it taste?" Billy looked at her eyes and saw them flash.

He’s had enough! Students kept chanting that in her ear. Pulling Evie and her clawing talons out of the huge football player under her knees. She breathed pure smoke. Hair flying all directions. Felt the coolness of dewy grass and warmth of blood crusting her fingers.

"It was like..."

Descending upon Tannen like thunder. Heavy rain and cracks of lightning followed by a boom. Thunderous applause too. She stared back at Billy with a dreamy expression. Recalled cowering through rainstorms as a little girl. Into the closet where she felt safer.

Her father, Jack, always found her. He’d sit next to her in there and bring her close under one arm.

“Don’t be scared, little mouse.” Never could make out his smile in darkness.

"It's...hot metal. Lava pouring down your throat trying to harden inside you." She got real too and Billy's lip lifted. Soft as can be. "Like it's making a cast of you in that specific moment of rage."

Evie blinked out of the memory. Watched Billy stare again before he pushed the milkshake back to her side. A peace offering. She accepted and drank, let lipstick print on the candy cane colored straw.

“I’m going to ask you out.” He decided gentler. Intent. “New Years Eve. Seven on the dot. You can show up in a nice dress when I knock and we’ll go. Or not.”

“You might want a back up girl.” Evie sucked in her cheeks, eyes had to leave his to see the table. Thighs pressing. He'd definitely just undressed her.

“No need.” Billy crossed his arms to shrug. “Don’t want one. Already asked the girl I want to take. C’mon, Fenny, quit hiding and get out. What are you waiting for?”

“I’m not hiding.” Evie shook her head, chest sinking. “You’re the one hiding.”

“Me?” His shoulders rose. Got all puffy like a peacock.

“Hawkins High King. Billy Hargrove.” She lifted her hands for dramatic effect. Leaned forward to match him in intensity. “Thrashing forth in a billow of hairspray and cigarette smoke. Sun left in your wake along with a trail of broken hearts. You pose for them and they eat you up. There won’t be much left..."

That sentiment kicked Billy in the chest.

"...Everything you say is layered in rage and cheese. It’s mind numbing. I have a wall up, but you put up this flashy front that just blinds everyone. You want their eyes to bleed for you. Get real, Hargrove.”

“I’ll get as real as you want. Ask me anything.” Came the challenge.

“Okay. Why’d you beat up Steve Harrington?”

“Cause he was lying to me and because I hated him.” Billy shrugged, eyes averting. "Because I wanted to taste hot metal. It's home to me."

“Lying? About what?”

“Still don’t know and frankly, I don’t care anymore.” A quick sip from his coke. “Go to the party with me.”

“You just don’t give up.” She peered into her glass. Wanted to eat the ice cubes clicking there.

“Maybe I’m asking you not to give up on me.” There was something almost sincere there like Billy was touching the earth for the first time.

“Why are you trying to trick me?” Evie pushed her cup aside even though her teeth chattered to crunch.

“Trick you?”

“This party thing.” She paused when the waitress returned to clear the table. Leaving the check face down. “You’ve been nothing but an ass to me since you moved in. Ignored me. Probably can’t even recall what I was wearing when we met.”

“Your mom’s hair kinda got in the way when she brought you over.” He joked and didn’t miss her stifle amusement, eyes rolling. “It’s not a trick, we might actually have something in common.”

“What’s that?”

“The people in this hell town aren’t very interesting. Maybe I find you interesting.” His brow quirked. Fingers tapped the lacquer table.

“I don’t find you all that interesting.” Evie smiled that time and Billy matched it.

“That’s fine. You will."

"So certain?"

"Give me a chance.” Billy’s eyes flicked over her before he sat up. Didn’t miss a damn beat. “You wore red button up shirt tucked into a little denim skirt with suspenders. Black tights. Grey shoes. Sunglasses with big white cat frames. That same gold necklace with the music note and dangle earrings to match. You introduced yourself with your mom. Took the sunglasses off and even had gold on your eyelids too. I remember it.”

"Yeah?" Her lips parted with the audible breath he stole. And oh so easily. Evie leaned closer so he followed. Hooded eyes all aflutter.

"Made your eyes look..." Billy searched. "Molten. Volcanic like."

"Molten?" Evie wasn't even hearing herself anymore.

"Just, I don't fucking know, warm like..." The beach. California. Home. Billy lost the thought and licked his lips. "You just looked painted."

"Painted?" Evie had mused then. Entertained now at his odd way of description. Tried not to think about Billy running a wet paintbrush down her bare neck.

"Yeah." Billy breathed slower. Painted. With the autumn breeze and sun in her hair, slowly brushing curls around those full, tinting cheeks. A subject the fucking Pre Raphaelites would have lost their shit over and painted all seasons. He could picture Evie floating in an endless pool being kissed by fallen flower petals. Draped in miles of iridescent chiffon reclined in emerald green grass. Looking straight at the viewer with intensity and still dreaming all the same.

"You had on a black tee. Jeans. Your saint chain. A pair of aviators tucked into your denim coat pocket." Evie peered under the table. "Same boots... You looked like you wanted to be literally anywhere else."

"That'd be the truth. Wasn't you or your mom's chipper greeting." Billy was looking down now. "Just realized I couldn't see the ocean anymore is all. You held out your hand and I ignored it because I'm an asshole. We established that this morning and now I'm making it up to you."

“And you still peeked at my chest." Evie flashed a cheekier smile. "Said your name only after Neil gave you this hard stare. Max sped by on a skateboard, you must have thought I was distracted. But, I caught you.”

“I did check your tits out, sue me. I have eyes. You have tits. The world spins.” He smacked a couple bills down as she went through her pockets. The spell on them both shattered to rain. “Already paid. Let’s go, the waitress is staring at us. We'll make a grand exit, huh?”

“But-” Evie stopped when he grasped her wrist and pulled her up into his side. Spied the waitress scowling as he held her hip and they went out. Got away from the window before she pulled from him. “Get your mitts off me, Hargrove.”

“Still open for questions.” He sniffed and they went back down the street. Another smoke was lit.

“Okay. I'll go for the obvious. Do you think we look funny together?” She crossed her arms when Billy leaned against the side of his car.

“Who cares. You’re making a big deal over nothing. It’s just a party.”

“The world cares. That waitress back there. Kids at school.” She shrugged.

“You.” He clicked his tongue, head tilting.

“I don’t care.”

“That’s why you don’t want to go to the party with me, you’re stuck on what they’ll think.” He pointed with the red hot cherry of his cigarette. “Fuck ‘em. As your Louisiana folk would say: to the devil with false modesty.” He mocked her mother's accent with that.

“Maybe, it’s because you’ve been a jerk to me. That reason enough?” Evie dropped her arms and Billy paused to nod, inhaling. “I don’t know what this is, Billy, but...just stop it. Ask someone else.” She eyed her mom’s salon and took a few steps back. “Thanks for lunch. I gotta go, my mom won’t turn this place over to the evening girl unless forced.”

“Can’t tell me what to do, Angel.” He stood taller. “I’ll bet you another Coke that Mona invites me to dinner tonight. TV included.”

Evie gaped at him.

“A Coke?”

“I’m easy to please. I’m gonna come to your house for dinner. Hour of TV at least.” He cocked his head. So full of pride.

“Why are you dragging this day out?” She turned to face him again.

“I want to meet your cat.” Billy wrapped his lips around the smoke. Exhaled after. “That little creep stares at me from your window day in and out.”

“He doesn’t like boys.”

“Bet he’ll like me.”

“I bet he won’t. He’ll stay in his bed and not spare you the time. It'll hurt your ego.” Evie came to Billy with her own certainty.

Bourbon was old. He liked to sleep, have his ears scratched, and purr. A lot. He hid when company came and keeps a safe distance once wandering out.

“Oh, another challenge. Okay, Fenny. We’re doing this.” Billy came to her, flicking his smoke to crush it under the toe of his boot. Cold wind blew. “When I come to dinner tonight-”

“If.” She corrected.

“When Mona invites me with her beat to hell Louisiana accent,” Billy insisted, “you get to play hostess. If that cat takes a liking to me, you’re going to the New Years party with a Hargrove.” He towered there and studied her.

“And that’s if you can even set foot into my house... It’s not a date. The dance.”

“What do you have to lose here?” Billy offered his hand and Evie eyed him suspiciously. Lips pursed before she reached to take it. His other broad palm came up to prolong it, engulfed hers before he leaned in even closer. Whispering and sultry. “Oh, and literally everyone in that place is already staring at us. We look just fine together, Evangeline. To the devil.”

Evie hitched a breath. Inhaled his cologne and twisted to see many eyes snap aside behind the glass.

“Ah, shit.” She tugged from his warm palms and went inside. Billy, cool and collected, trailed after. He cleared his throat and spoke up.

“I just really don’t want to impose, Angel.” The tone changed and her body locked, turning to question it before her mother replied at reception first.

“Impose?” Mona blinked, snapping a book shut.

“I-”

“Your daughter kindly invited me to dinner, I figured it was too short notice for her lovely mother." Billy made a thing of it to sigh with longing. "Any other day, I’d-”

Evie's entire face scrunched at him. Cheeks red like strawberries when her jaw set.

“Oh, no! You’re always welcome. We’re having Swedish meatballs. Easy thing to whip up. I always make so much extra, don’t I, Evie?”

Evie Fenny hated Billy Hargrove. Officially and totally. Hated his smug little face.

Her tongue clicked at him.

“Mm hm.”

Billy only smiled, winking. Too easy.

“What a wonderful idea to invite him, baby. I’m going to be headed home soon. We might have a late meal. Is eight alright for you?” Mona tucked Evie’s curls behind her ear and flashed a hundred watt grin.

“Eight is perfect, Ms. Fenny.” Billy charmed the entire room. Except the painted, plush storm cloud in front of him. “I also have to say, has anyone ever told you that you look like a brunette Dolly Parton?”

The woman about squealed at him.

“You know, I get it sometimes.” She touched her collar with one hand and pushed at him. “Does your family want to come over for dinner?”

“Unfortunately, no. My dad is taking Susan out. You know, date night. Max is spending the night at a friend’s house. Police Chief’s new kid. So, I’m all alone tonight.”

“Well, not anymore, come over and I’ll get you fed. My door is always open, Billy.” Mona tapped his chin. “Eight o’clock sharp.”

“I’ll be there.” He turned to Evie. Speechless. Voice lowered as he leaned in to brush one knuckle along her jawline. “And I’ll be seeing you, Angel.”

Billy seemed to linger for her to say something more, finger curling into unruly locks.

"To the devil." She uttered with pointed brown eyes. Unable to leave him.

The curl bounced back into place. Billy heard her lungs sputter with need and bit his lip, sly. A final wink just for Evie.

One bell and he was gone.

“Mom.” Evie broke to moan and pull herself back together, following. “Why?”

“Why, what? Let the boy come over for dinner.” She plucked up a comb to put some finishing touches on a woman’s hairdo, nodding to her stylist.

“He’s trouble, you know about him. The whole town does.”

“Sweetheart, we’re always going to be hospitable. Especially to troubled souls. It’s what Dolly and the Bible would have wanted.” That was always Mona's sound advice.

“Christ.”

“Evangeline.” Mona shot her a look. Fussed. “Do not take that tone with the Lord, young lady.”

“I’m sorry, just,” she blew air out her lips and whined, “I can’t stand him.”

“Seemed awful cozy out there or have I gone blind now? All the smiles and nicknames.”

Evie bit her tongue at that because there was plenty Mona chose not to see.

“Billy does that, he tricks you and then steps on you because it’s a game to him.”

“Maybe he’s trying to do better. I know he gotten into some trouble, but what do I always tell you?”

Evie crossed her arms tight, hip cocked. Monotone.

“You’d tell me Dolly would want us to see the light of a clear blue morning.”

“And has Dolly ever steered me wrong?” Mona pointed with the comb before she fluffed the locks up. “Perfect, go ahead and finish this. Good work, dear.”

“Thanks, Miss Mona.” A new hire moved to finish, pushing large glasses up her nose. Mona went around them and Evie followed.

“I know, I know. Be brave and kind. Honest and always open your heart. Blah. I’ll be civil if he is.”

“Oh honey, let a boy be nice to you once in awhile. You might like it.”

“Pssh. Find me one first.” Evie passed her mom to get her bag. “They only get nice when they’re older and mature.”

“I wouldn’t always bet on that, baby.” Mona replied softer than intended. “Cruelty takes so many forms, that’s how it seeps into our lives so easily. It’s a comfort.”

Evie didn’t find something to argue with there. Just watched her mother’s back tense.

Let the words flutter like silken petals on the wind.

To the damn devil.

~~~~~~~

Thanks everyone xoxo! Askbox is open. TAGGED:: @80sbxtch @nottherightseason @orxhidshavana @alagalaska @alongcamedolly

#billy hargrove #Billy hargrove x oc #Billy Hargrove imagine #billy hargrove fanfiction #billy hargrove fic #Billy x angel #writing #SOMY #mine #Angel Fenny

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x0401x · 5 years ago

Note

Hi there! Just want to thank you so much for translating for the VE fandom! I've been looking through your VE posts and noticed you mentioned how anime!Gil is completely different from LN!Gil. I agree with you and was wholeheartedly disappointed in the anime. I was hoping you could elaborate more on your thoughts, where you thought anime!Gil and anime!Violet went wrong and how they were different from the anime. Sorry if you've already made a post on this previously. Thanks again!

Hi! You’re welcome!

This reply took me long enough, lol. I haven’t gone too much into detail, or else I’d just end up writing a bible. It still turned out long as hell, though, so I’ve put it under a cut.

I really didn’t know how to begin with this. “Where they went wrong” kinda implies that those two were going right until some point, and that’s just… not the case. They were a trainwreck from start to finish. And it’s kind of impossible to really discuss this without touching upon the massive fails in the writing of the entire show. It does try to convey important messages to the viewers, but mostly with visuals and repetitive lines, never with the actual plot or the characters. You get an inkling of what the story was attempting to do with them, and that initial idea is what seems to stay with most people, because there’s nearly nothing beyond it.

As director Ishidate has stated more than once before, he made changes to the story because he thought the novel was, in his words, “too orthodox”. But watering it down meant watering the characters down too, Gil and Violet more than anyone else. And this results in a show that ironically fails to grasp its own themes and cast — the personalities and conflicts get lost in the details and have to be patched up with excuses that end up displaying how little the show trusts its own audience. It keeps spelling out plot devices and character traits in an almost robotic manner, with very scarce effort put into actually showcasing them in the situations and dialogues. Everyone is too one-dimensional and the main plot line is repeated over and over instead of being alluded in parallels or even just slightly more intelligent exchanges. Animators like Ishidate have grown dangerously used to committing a grave narrative suicide: to give vague and unconvincing reasons for things to be the way they are and expect the audience to take it all as is simply because it was stated there. Everything is oversimplified because they clearly want the viewers to get invested in the emotional baggage of the show, and only the emotional baggage, because they think that’s all we get invested on. They forget that details are necessary for the whole experience.

These problems are recurrent in Violet and Gil, and they never stop. I’ll start with Gil, since he was mentioned first.

Gilbert Bougainvillea is a very complex, humane and multi-faceted character in the novel. What’s interesting is that he doesn’t look like it at first, so he surprised many readers in volume 1 with how caring and endearing he can be. And I mean caring for real. Anime!Gil seemed like a poor excuse for what he was supposed to represent, which in turn made him into a walking contradiction. In the novel, Gil is by far the person that emphasizes the most with Violet, because the two of them are two sides of the same coin. This is where the anime falls short most frequently. They at first look like polar-opposites, but are absolutely not, yet the show portrays them as such. Novel!Gil is gratuitously kind and righteous, and he’s brave and pure-hearted enough to stand by his values no matter what. He’s used to giving up everything for the sake of other people, but he has morals that he holds to the roots of his very being, so he always chooses to donate himself to what he deems as good causes. And once he has his mind set on an objective, he doesn’t mind playing dirty to achieve it, as long as he’s not hurting anyone. That’s exactly the same as Violet, and Gil isn’t the only one who sees himself in her — Hodgins and Dietfried also notice how alike the two are. Novel!Gil relates to Violet on a spiritual level, and he knows first-hand how she must feel. He’s been there and done that. And that’s why she’s his number one priority. His purpose in life is to protect her and keep her in a healthy lifestyle within a blessed working environment and a loving family. Quite literally, all he wants is to make sure that she’s happy, and he’s active and vocal about it. He’s also an unapologetic and unabashed feminist, so he completely approves of her doing anything for a living — she doesn’t need to live her life like an ordinary woman and whatever she wants for herself is fine, as long as it’s not too dangerous.

Apparently, his personality is one of the book aspects that Ishidate believed to be “too orthodox”. He depicts Gil the way you’d expect any male creator to depict a man — a brooding martyr figure who only has a heart of gold in fleeting moments that get replayed again and again in flashbacks to serve as justification for Violet’s undying love. He makes very little strides and there’s a lot of flawed reasoning behind his affection that makes it oddly disconnected, which is the fact that said affection is barely ever there. Gil hardly treats Violet like a person, let alone an equal. Violet is ready to give her life for him anytime, and as we see in the last battle at Intense, he’s ready to cling onto that to save his own life. Ishidate doesn’t shy away from making very evident that he thinks it’s okay for Gil to do only the minimum to earn Violet’s respect and trust, like it’s a given and all he’s required in order to earn her love is to exist. This is very visible in scenes like the one where they first met. Gil seems to shield Violet from the abuse of his brother, but shows next to no distress or even interest over it as he doesn’t even question where she came from or why Dietfried was treating her that way. There’s also the scene where he takes her to one of his family’s residences, and she has his jacket on, just like in the novel… yet he’s letting her walk barefoot in the snow without giving a single flying fuck. He then leaves her side as soon as he instructs the maid what to do with her, not looking back. I also hate that scene where he gets back home and she bumps into him and falls on her butt. He just stares at her and makes no effort to help her back up. But the one I hate the most is that festival scene where he nearly thanks Violet for fighting so well in battle. I mean, she’s killing people for him. She, a literal child, is in the frontlines of a long-lasting war, risking her life and committing mass murder for his sake. That’s literally nothing to be grateful for. Especially not when he’s supposed to love her. And I despise that he only stopped himself from finishing the phrase because he noticed the bruises on her.

Another major defect of the anime was changing Gil’s backstory. Anime!Gil was, by the looks of it, just a rich kid who enlisted simply because that’s the family tradition. And if you take away Gil’s backstory, you take away the viewers’ reason to empathize with him. Why? Because that means he’s morphed into someone who can make choices. Erase any factor that binds Gil to doing what his family and his superiors make him do, and what you have is a grown man with his free will intact. And he uses none of it to help Violet. Anime!Gil was always given the opportunity to say no. He could’ve said no to Dietfried and sent Violet straight to the Evergardens, he could’ve said no to his superior officer and not taken her into the military, or he could’ve at least said no to assigning her to the men’s troops. He didn’t because there would be no story otherwise. Novel!Gil is always attempting to save Violet from the war and from herself, while anime!Gil’s actions beg to differ. And so, anime!Violet’s obsession with Gil stems from the fact that he was the first to treat her remotely like a human being and that, for a long time, he was all she had. None of that fate thing, because it’s also “too orthodox”. But without the fate element and without Gil having no control whatsoever over how he feels about Violet, he’s straight-up a pedophile. If he feels regular romantic love for Violet, who is in her mid-teens, that’s pedophilia right there. This one is my biggest beef with anime!Gil, and I don’t take criticism for it.

Now Violet. Not to be rude, but I see so many people talk about how interesting her anime counterpart is, yet I rarely ever see anyone going in-depth on it. It’s like the way the fans talks about the show. Literally every single person who comments that they liked it always says the exact same thing: “I cried during every episode”. I sort of feel like most of them are just reproducing what they see other people say out there, which is probably what got them interested in watching it in the first place. I don’t mean this with ill-intent; it’s just seriously the impression I get from looking at the tag. I’ve accompanied it since the novel came out all the way back in 2015, and when the show was running, believe it or not, I didn’t really see much of those comments. It started becoming a habit to say it after episode 10, which seems to be the highest-rating episode (the irony being that it was the closest the anime ever got to the novels). Hence why it feels to me like some people just say it on automatic, and I get the same vibe from the fans of anime!Violet.

I’ll just be blunt here: the main difference between anime!Violet and canon!Violet is that canon!Violet was made to be liked by girls and women, and anime!Violet was made to be liked by men. I have already said this before, but Violet is the very definition of independent professional woman in the novel. She’s educated, confident, strong, reliable, altruistic and overall well-versed in at least a little bit of everything. Half of it is due to luck and half of it is her own merits, but all in all, she was created not just to be relatable but also a character that people could look up to. Meanwhile, anime!Violet was clearly made to be waifubait.

I can’t really stress how little thought was actually put into her portrayal and development. We never truly see her internalizing the lessons that she supposedly learns in each of the self-contained episodes. We only ever witness her displaying sudden significant hints of emotion at convenient times, paired to her either repeating what she was told earlier by one of the characters or taking an extremely obvious conclusion to a question that was already half-answered by someone else. Because of this, Violet’s growth process has an unsteady pacing in the anime and mostly feels disjointed. In comparison, novel!Violet is usually not the point of view — she’s often in the role of observer, and we notice through the solutions she comes up with for her clients’ issues that she does have a very humane connection with them. We also notice through the clients’ opinions on Violet that she shows subtle changes at certain specific points, such as smiling just a little when she manages to not only accomplish her duties but also help solve their problems. This makes her more real and believable because, unlike the anime, it presents no abrupt alteration to the essence of her person. She’s growing in her own way, but it’s still easy to tell. It’s also very clever to have Violet be disliked or misunderstood by her clients at first because she’s so aloof and apathetic-looking, but then she grows on them after they actually understand her, and the readers can absorb that from them. I’ve seen many people complain that they can’t really empathize with anime!Violet, but in the novel, the author takes care not to let this happen, and it really doesn’t.

What upsets me the most is that anime!Violet is overly infantilized. We all know that director Ishidate loves her like a father loves a daughter; it’s been said by himself and his colleagues quite a lot. That’s cute and all, but it made her depiction extremely shallow. The biggest problem was making her 14 in the anime. I still struggle to understand what would’ve been so bad with keeping her as a 17-year-old. Sum that up with removing many of her merits and adding forceful childish traits, such as being okay with changing clothes anywhere in front of anyone or pouting when she’s frustrated, and you have the perfect recipe of what waifu junkies like to be spoon-fed with. In my opinion, anime!Violet was a downgraded tragic heroine played in a cheap and boring way to attract tearjerker lovers.

I hope this has covered enough of my take on the matter. ✌️

#violet evergarden #gilbert bougainvillea

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dreamcatcherfication · 5 years ago

Text

The End of Katherine Howard

Not gonna lie, I forget I even had this doc. I want you all to know that this was hidden in my drive under the title “Soft Shit” for no reason whatsoever. Anyway, I saw this post a while back that went something like “What if Anna of Cleves saved Katherine Howard the night before her execution?” (Someone please tag that post if you can find it).

So basically what I’m saying is the title is false advertising.

Please send in asks or prompts (more prompts), I only have oh so many of my own ideas, I’m not a creative person. Let me know if you want to be tagged in my works (who am I kidding, I don’t have enough followers for that~). Word Count: 1939

Trigger Warnings: Rape mentions

Writing Masterpost

Katherine Howard knew she only had hours to live. In her mind, she told herself she was okay and that she had come to terms with everything. In reality, she wasn’t ready. Not to face the silent masses of watching eyes. Not to stare up at the executioner before the end. Not for her untimely death.

She was only seventeen, it was not supposed to go like this. In retrospect, she thinks, none of it was supposed to go like this. It wasn’t as if she wanted to betray the King and be sentenced to death. She didn’t want any of this, and yet she accepted it with a tiny smile and innocent gaze. Because what else could she do?

She never thought she would marry Henry. When he was married to her friend, her former queen, Anna of Cleves, she didn’t even think he had noticed her. She was just another servant of his wife of course. But then she would catch him giving her a glance in court. He would say things to her. Tell her how important she was. “Without you I don’t know what I’d do, love,” he had said once.

Anna of Cleves was a lovely woman who Katherine looked up to. She was strong and brave, she had the makings of a warrior, all except for her sex. She was beautiful and gracious, Katherine didn’t quite see why Henry insisted on calling her a horse and complaining. In Katherine’s humble opinion, Hans Holbein had not been able to capture the beauty of the queen in a single picture, she was simply too heavenly for that. But Katherine never voiced her opinions to the king.

After Henry’s marriage with Anna was annulled, he immediately set his sights on Katherine. She wasn’t very influential, but her family was so desperate to climb the social ladder that they shoved her straight into the waiting arms of the King. They got married and Katherine did as she was told, not bothering to question whether or not Henry was the right man for her. “No other wish but his,” she would repeat like a mantra when things got bad. But overall, it seemed as if she was doing alright in court.

And then Thomas Culpeper. He had been the one friend Katherine needed in her life after she became queen. She only saw Anna during extravagant parties where they could only speak cordially and dance with each other for fleeting moments. Katherine cherished those moments, but they weren’t enough to ward off the terror of her life with Henry. Thomas was the one person who could, the only man Katherine finally felt comfortable with.

She got letters. Letters from Henry Mannox, Francis Dereham, and more, all claiming to know of her promiscuity. They blackmailed her into holding them up in court, giving them better positions with the King. She didn’t like being in such close proximity to these terrible men, but she didn’t have a choice, lest she end up like her cousin, Anne.

Culpeper was the only person who promised to keep her secrets and keep her safe. She believed him for the longest time, but even he was too good to last. Thomas took her hand and whispered a word she had heard all too many times. “Connection.” Her blood ran cold thinking about his words. She had told him no, that he was only her friend, nothing more. She was married. But Thomas refused to let that stop him, and he kept pushing and pushing until finally he got what he wanted.

Katherine couldn’t stop him. She begged and pleaded and cried but Thomas only pulled and took and hurt.

He went around boasting to the other courtiers about what he had done with the queen. When Henry found out, she tried to tell him the truth, that she didn’t want it, that it was Thomas’s fault, but Henry was furious and betrayed. He locked her up and tried to sentence her to death. She spent six months in a dirty cell while Henry wrote a law that would allow him to kill her legally in the eyes of God.

She still sat in that dirty cell. It was dark out, but she knew the light would be coming soon. She had a block set out in front of her, one she had specifically requested be brought so she could practice for her execution. If she were to be remembered, it was to be as a queen, not as a wailing child stolen too soon from life’s warm embrace. Every time she set her head on the block, she fought tears back as the reality of her death repeatedly slapped her on the face. Or rather, touched her on the neck.

When the cell doors started to rattle with the jangle of keys in the look, Katherine shot up in fear. It was too soon, they weren’t supposed to be coming for her yet. She had a few hours left. It wasn’t time for her to die -

The guard stepped through the door and closed it behind him. He wore armor and had a sword in a sheath while the keys used to unlock the door were in his hand. Katherine looked at the guard dressed from head to toe in armor and curled in on herself. She didn’t like being in confined spaces, especially with a man. If he wanted to hurt her, there was nothing she could do to stop him. “Please,” she whimpered, “It can’t be time yet.”

The guard quickly moved in the heavy armor and pulled off his helmet, revealing the surprisingly familiar face of Katherine’s old friend, Anna of Cleves. She was wearing a man’s armor and carried herself with an amount of dignity, but Katherine recognized her despite the new attire and slightly aged face. Eyes widening in shock, Katherine stood speechless. “How are you here?”

“We can speak about that later,” Anna said before stepping forward and holding a hand out to Katherine. “Right now we should leave before the guards start to notice that something’s amiss.” Katherine wanted to say something, to ask more questions, but her throat had sealed up and she didn’t know what to say. Anna was offering to help her escape. But she had been sentenced to death by the King. Didn’t that mean she was meant to take her punishment with dignity? Would God be mad at her if she did not allow Henry to kill her?

As Anna gazed at her, worried but hopeful, Katherine felt her more sensible instincts kick in. She couldn’t die here, not now, not yet. Standing up and slipping her hand into Anna’s, Katherine determinedly furrowed her eyebrows. Anna nodded and slid her helmet back on, leading the young queen out of the cell as quietly as possible.

Without being able to look at Anna’s face as they made their way through the palace, Katherine felt her breath hitch in her throat. Sensibly, she knew the sound of her breathing wouldn’t make a difference if they were caught, but she couldn’t help herself from tightening her chest in fear. The sounds of the castle were mostly quiet, save for the occasional drip of water from the ceiling and the slight draft that blew in through the small windows scattered throughout the dungeon. The guards must have been on patrol, but Anna seemed to know their patterns. Otherwise, they would’ve almost assuredly been caught the second Anna arrived.

All of the hallways looked exactly the same to Katherine, and she couldn’t help but feel like they’d gotten lost. But she trusted Anna, so she let herself be led in the dark. “Oh,” Katherine said in surprise as she and her former queen emerged from the dungeons through a secret door. It looked exactly like the cobblestone wall, but when Anna put pressure on it, the door swung outward.

“After you, Your Majesty,” Anna’s voice was muffled by her mask. Picking up her skirt, Katherine made her way out of the dungeon and onto the muddy grass. The feeling of freedom was strangely uncomfortable, but Katherine couldn’t find it in herself to complain. She and Anna were almost free of the palace, of Henry and Thomas and what Katherine thought was her inevitable death.

Leaving the dungeon behind, Anna brought Katherine around the back of the palace where a horse sat, it’s lead tied around a tree. The horse was scuffing at the ground, clearly sensing the nervous energy of the two queens. Anna shushed the horse and started petting it. She turned to look at Katherine, gesturing for her to get onto the horse. Instead, Katherine stepped forward and reached her hands out. She grabbed the sides of Anna’s helmet and pulled it off her head, revealing Anna’s face once again. Her cheeks were red and sweat ran down her brow showing her exhaustion after carrying around the heavy armor. “I prefer your face,” Katherine said simply at Anna’s confused face.

It was no matter to Anna who helped Katherine up onto the horse. Once Katherine was secured on the horse, she untied the lead from the tree and climbed up behind the teen. Anna grabbed the reins and urged the horse to get moving. They started off in a slow trot, but soon enough the horse was galloping with the two women on its back. “You’ll be safe with me, Kat, I promise,” Anna spoke loud enough that Katherine could hear her over the wind.

“Are we really doing this?” Katherine asked.

Anna frowned. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, do I really deserve to be saved? There’s a reason the King wants to execute me,” Katherine replied. Her voice wasn’t quiet, but with the wind rushing past her ears, Anna struggled to hear her words.

Moving a hand from the reins to Katherine’s arm, Anna tried to console her. “Of course you deserve to be saved. And Henry only wants to execute you because he’s embarrassed. I’m going to keep you safe, and when we’re free from him, you can finally be happy.”

“That sounds nice,” Katherine admitted while tilting her head up to look at the slowly lightening sky. “Do you think they’ll come after us?”

Anna shrugged. “Maybe at first they will. After a while, Henry will want to pretend this never happened. His ego is bigger than he is, and that’s saying a lot.” Katherine giggled but covered her mouth with her hand. Her whole life, she was told it was rude to laugh at a man or anyone superior to her. Anna didn’t seem concerned with her laugh. She even seemed to encourage it. “Richmond is splendid, I’m sure you’ll enjoy it. And I’ll be with you every step of the way.”

“Why,” Katherine suddenly asked, “Why did you save me?”

Anna wished she could have Katherine face her so the younger girl could see her eyes. “Why wouldn’t I save you? Mein liebling, you’re my friend, and I care about you more than Henry or anyone in court. If I have to dress up as a knight and commit treason to save you, then that’s what I will do. You come first, Kat.”

Although she couldn’t see it, Anna knew there were tears in Katherine’s eyes. The small sobs that came from the form in front of her were proof of that. “Anna, thank you, thank you so much,” Katherine cried.

“You don’t have to thank me for saving you, Kat. I would do it a thousand times over. Now let’s get to Richmond and start your new life.”

And even though they couldn’t see it, both queens were smiling far brighter than they should have.

#six the musical fanfiction #six the musical fanfic #six the musical fic #six fanfiction #six fanfic #katherine howard #anna of cleves #set in the past #this is a one shot but I guess it could be a series if people want #i wasn't really planning on that though #historical fiction i guess?

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aiimaginesbts · 5 years ago

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What You Never Had: Chapter 14 (Final)

Seokjin x Reader (ft. Jimin, Taehyung and Namjoon)

Genres: Royalty AU, angst

Word count: 3,197 words

Chapter 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 (M) | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 (M) | 13 | 14 (Final)

A/N: Sorry for the really long delay! Work has been at the forefront for many months now, up to the point my health deteriorated. Hopefully I can write more frequently until the end of this series, at least!

Also, thanks Ann @godsavemefrombts for beta-ing this!

Disclaimer/Copyright

_________________________________________________________

“Are you sure about this?”

Instead of answering him, you rushed forward, not even bothering to give him the withered look you shot him the first time he asked you that question at the inn. Jin knew full well that you wouldn’t have dragged him out in this foreign country where you could barely make your way through without getting lost if you weren’t sure beyond a doubt. But you supposed that he had more than enough reasons to worry. Even though the crowd was dwindling as the moon replaced the sun, getting lost or separated from your Royal Guard was the least of your worries. You could get caught, and get your entire party into trouble. Worst yet, you could have been wrong, and this trip would have been for naught. Ki Joon had to be there, otherwise you might not be able to save all those innocent people from being sold to slavery.

Spirits renewed by the reminder of the people you were fighting to protect, your steps hastened towards the main square. Jin, who had pointed out the general direction to you earlier, kept up with your pace effortlessly. The lights that illuminated the square spilled out into the darker alleyway you were coming from before the place itself came into view. As you stood at the edge of the square, you tried your best to peer into the narrow paths between the buildings without appearing conspicuous.

“Do you see him anywhere?” A shadow fell over you as Jin stood next to you, slightly in front of you to shield you from strangers’ view.

“Uhm,” was your unconvincing response as you continued to peel away every nook and cranny that your eyes could reach. Even though the lanterns put most of the square into view, the light didn’t extend far into the alleyways. The man you thought you’d seen in the daylight was obscured now, hidden in the shadows of the night. Still, you’d risked both Jin’s and your safety to come out here, so there was nothing to do but to take another step forward. If Ki Joon had remained in the same spot you saw him in earlier, he couldn’t be too far down the alley, but you couldn’t remember which one he was in, and he wasn’t in the first two that you checked. It was hard to ignore the frustration and concentrate through your hazy memories of the afternoon. Your glimpse of Ki Joon had been fleeting, and you were starting to question if you’d really seen him after all.

Luckily, the third time was the charm. As you’d thought, the light from the square still extended far enough into the narrow path to touch the man you’d been looking for, if only barely. Like the other beggars you and Jin had passed by, the man, already sitting on the dirty ground, stared at it, shielding his face from view. But you already knew who he was, and you weren’t about to waste precious time. Cutting to the chase, you squatted down next to him and whispered, “What are you doing here, Ki Joon?”

His head snapped up in surprise upon hearing his name in a place far away from home. At first his shaggy brows met in a frown, then lifted in surprise as he matched you and Jin with his memories. You could see the recognition dawn on him, and when he turned his gaze away shamefully, your already pained heart squeezed in agony. For all the pain you felt when you looked at the state he was in now, you knew it must have been indescribably more torturous for him. But he couldn’t run away as you were sure he wanted to; not with the stump where his right leg had been.

It was just as you’d feared. No, actually, it was worse than you could have imagined. You’d expected Ki Joon to be taken by those people he owed money to, but you didn’t think that he would be left in such a horrible state. Just in this small space, you could see many others who were in the same situation. Disfigured, with nothing to their name, lurking shamefully in the shadows and forced to beg for money that would undoubtedly go into their captor's pocket. It made your blood boil, heating up your resolve. However, Ki Joon was reluctant to reveal any information on the people who held power over him, and it left you frustrated with no idea on how to persuade him. He had nothing else to lose. He had already lost everything he’d had, and he wasn’t willing to help you and risk parting with his only remaining possession; his life. You bit your lower lip, wondering what to do, when Jin crouched down beside you. The warmth of his palm on your arm reassured you that he would solve this.

Sure enough, less than an hour later, you and Jin were rushing back to the inn. The location of the pirates’ hideout was traded with the solemn promise that Ki Joon’s involvement would remain an absolute secret. It was too late for him, and his sisters were probably beyond saving as well, as chances that they were already sold to a foreign country was high. Yet Jin knew just the right buttons to push, reminding Ki Joon of the lives he could save, innocent women and men that didn’t have to end up the way his family did. Shaking your head to yourself, you wondered if you could have gotten the information out of him, even if you’d known his family background. Jin’s persuasive powers impressed you, but you had other things to worry about.

“How are you going to explain your source of information?” Jin asked, his long strides letting him keep up with your brisk pace.

It wasn’t a difficult question. Just tweak or omit some of the truth to conceal your relationship with Jin. You’d done this before, and it worked like a charm. Still, a frown twisted your face upon hearing it. Before this, keeping this secret made you nervous, but still the thrill and your love for Jin made you excited. Not that your passion for him had dimmed any, but continuing to keep your feelings for him a secret from your family now felt like sticking a dull knife into your stomach. The secret was out ⁠— to one of your brothers, anyway ⁠— and this wasn't a game you were playing for fun. This was reality. And Jimin’s disapproval was more painful than you could ever have imagined. The weight of your emotions threatened to crush you, but once again you pushed it away. There was no time to dwell on your personal issues.

“Y/n?” Jin’s tap on your shoulder was soft, full of worry, but it was enough to make you jump in surprise and out of your internal war with yourself.

“Let’s just say you found out from your own investigation. Is that alright with you?” You hated yourself for continuing with this charade, but what else could you do?

“I suppose that’s the best solution,” he mumbled thoughtfully, probably working out the details in his head. Unlike you, Jin had more of a grasp on reality. After all, that was the reason he was so reluctant to admit his feelings for you when he found out you were a princess. However, you managed to convince him it didn’t matter. If he found out that you were having second thoughts about it now, how much would it hurt him?

Upon learning what Jin had unearthed, Namjoon quickly called the other princes to his room. You left the door to your room open, stayed on alert and took the opportunity to join in once they gathered, since you’d separated from Jin after you got back to the inn make it seem like he’d ventured out alone. Most of what Jin relayed to the princes were the truth ⁠— taking the initiative by going out himself, he discovered a familiar face, and extracted the location of the hideout from one of the pirates’ many victims. It was a warehouse close to the wharf.

“All ready to make their getaway,” Namjoon almost spit out angrily.

“But the cramped location will make it easy for us to trap them, even with our limited numbers,” Prince Taehyung pointed out. Wasting no time, a heated discussion on capturing the criminals ensued, regardless of the growing darkness of the night. You listened closely, feeling anxious and helpless in the face of tactics that you were unfamiliar with. Yet you didn't want to move even the slightest bit, afraid that you would be chased away before you could find the perfect timing to have your say.

In the end, they were already wrapping up when you got the chance to say anything. Namjoon had called for two of his men to verify the pirates' hideout, and you finally found your voice. "I want to go too."

"No." Your eldest brother's rejection was quick, decisive, and expected. A quick look at Crown Prince Taehyung immediately told you not to depend on his support either; he was purposefully avoiding your gaze, clearly agreeing with Namjoon even though it seemed like he felt bad about it.

You knew that you wouldn't be allowed to come. The past few hours made it obvious that you were out of your depth. Not only would you be unable to provide any assistance, you would probably just be a hindrance to them. It would be dangerous, and you could hardly fight under those conditions. Still, you couldn't help but feel deflated as the men strode out of the room, until Jimin laid a comforting hand on your shoulder.

"Don't get yourself down. You've been plenty of help already tonight," he said softly, then swiftly left before you could respond. It took a few moments for his words to sink in. What did he mean by helping tonight? Did he see you leaving with Jin to look for Ki Joon? Grabbing your skirts into your fists, you tried to calm yourself and figure out what this meant for you and Jin. Clearly Jimin knew that you had something to do with Jin discovering the coveted location; there was no other explanation for it. However, he had chosen to stay quiet on the matter instead of revealing you to your eldest brother.

Did Jimin approve of your relationship with Jin then? Not that you'd ever explicitly told him that your ties with Jin ran any deeper than that between a princess and her guard, but he knew something was up, and he didn't seem to like it, even just now. In any case, Jimin had decided to keep it to himself, for now at least, and that gave you a tiny bit of relief. That, coupled with your exhaustion from the journey, allowed your body to succumb to a few hours of sleep.

Detailed planning and relaying orders could only be done in the late morning, after the men Namjoon sent out returned with confirmation that the warehouse were full of goods and people, both criminals and victims not far from being sold off as slaves. Still, all things considered, making their move when the sun had set was extremely quick, thanks to all the arrangements the princes had thought out before even coming into the country.

The emotions going through you as you saw your brothers, Jin and Crown Prince Taehyung off with a small group of men was familiar, yet more intense than before. It was painful to be closer to their fighting grounds than ever before, but remain completely useless. This time, with Jin leaving with them, you had more people to worry about too. More to lose. Left with Ji Eun and two guards, you remained awake that night. At first you'd expected — hoped, more like — that long wait would bore or tire you enough to sleep, but your heartbeat only got more intense with each tick of the hand of the clock on the wall. You could feel the tiredness, the weariness of your eyes, but you kept staring at it anyway. There was no helping it.

The man that Namjoon sent to scout the warehouse returned first, as light had started to diffuse into the inky night. You were grateful to the Crown Prince, who'd clearly sent the man at the earliest opportunity to assure you that they were all right. Indeed, he rushed to the inn with good news. Your group's small and hushed arrival delayed the news from reaching the criminals, and thankfully the princes' prompt action caught them by surprise. No one was convinced that everyone involved had been apprehended, but with the shipping date being so close, the warehouse had been extremely busy. You only hoped that the leaders were among the large number of people who were caught.

"It will be a while before they return. The local authorities were arriving just before I came here," Namjoon's messenger informed you.

Recently awoken Ji Eun sighed from the seat next to yours. "This is a mess."

"We knew this would happen," you reminded her with a small smile. This really was the best case scenario you could have hoped for. Of course, once the pirates' activities had been brought to light, it would be impossible for any of you to hide your presence in this country, whether your country was on good terms with it or not. The most pressing concern now was to ensure that the nobility that had been involved with the criminals to fill their pockets would be exposed and have no influence over the subsequent investigations and trials. However, it was mostly out of your brothers' and Crown Prince Taehyung's hands now. All you could do was hope that the criminals would be dealt with and given proper punishment.

It felt like this day had gone on forever. No, not this day. Not even this week. Your emotions had been stretched out for so long that even the physical effort to make your first journey into a hostile country didn't feel half as taxing. But it all finally came together. At least most of it. You were still unsure about the direction that you and Jin were heading towards, now that Jimin was aware of your relationship, but your brother's silence was all that you could ask for at the moment. It wasn't perfect, nowhere near it, but you were content for now.

You didn't hold back on your joy at seeing the princes back after their long absence, sorting things out with the authorities of the city and the country, no doubt. Your brothers hugged you without reservation, and in that elated moment you could forget the tension between you and Jimin. All you could give Jin was a happy smile in the presence of the others, but that was enough, especially considering your guilt towards him stemming from keeping the fact that Jimin had seen you leaving his room from him.

Dealing with the mess that had accumulated; with the pirates' illegal activities, the people with influence colluding with them, helping the victims, as well as you and your brothers' unauthorised entry into the country took most of the month, but it passed by like a whirlwind. It was tiresome, but the fact that none of you were held hostage was a miracle in itself. You supposed you had Prince Taehyung to thank for that. While Amaryll and Zinnis were quite hostile with each other, it wouldn’t do them any favours to be at odds with Delphina. The journey home was relaxed, more enjoyable, as you had the freedom to move about and not stay confined within the carriage all the time.

Little did you know that you were already late in your return to Amaryll.

Three days after crossing the border, Prince Taehyung’s group and yours split to head towards your respective destinations; you and your brothers back to the capital while Prince Taehyung continued north towards his home in Delphina. At the end of the long week, the sight of the castle lifted your spirits. You couldn’t wait to lay down on a bed — your own bed — once again. The issue with Jimin and Jin seemed less significant now, and you were more than ready to put it on the shelf for the moment while you recuperated from the arduous journey.

However, no cheerful smiles welcomed you home. The solemn men that greeted you upon your arrival made the air heavy with tension. That same tension intensified when one of them relayed orders to meet the King even though your feet had hardly touched the ground. Namjoon and Jimin alighted from their horses and joined you by the carriage, both as equally flummoxed by the urgent summons as you were. “Ji Eun, please see to it that my belongings are brought to my chambers,” you instructed her quietly, hardly registering her silent nod before heading towards your father’s study with the princes.

Your presence was announced, and you were admitted inside without delay. The King sat behind his desk with an expression that spoke wordlessly of seriousness, tinged with sadness. It reassured your worry of being summoned to be scolded by some unknown mistake that you’d done. At the same time, it gave rise to new concern regarding the matter that had to be conveyed immediately upon your arrival. Your brothers’ postures were stiff, probably wondering the same thing you were. None of you were kept waiting for long.

“You did well in your mission to capture the pirates,” your father began, confirming that you were not in any trouble for the way you handled the problem. “I regret summoning you without allowing you any time to rest, but I have urgent news must be addressed at once.” All three of his children nodded as one, steeling yourself for it. It was clear that whatever the King was going to tell you, it was not going to be pleasant. He took a deep breath and paused, as if gathering the will to say his next words. “Zinnis has declared war against us.”

It took a moment for you to digest the news. You frowned, then clenched your fists in anger.

“I suppose it would have been foolish to expect them to be grateful for our recent assistance.” Namjoon, on the other hand, took it more calmly than you did. Almost as if he’d expected Zinnis to do exactly this, despite the role the three of you had just played in capturing the criminals nesting in their port.

“Quite,” your father agreed. “Well, it is not as if we have not been preparing for this. The timing is a little unfortunate, but we will simply have to rush things a bit. That is why I have called you here as well, y/n.” His gaze settled upon you, and your body tensed in anticipation. Your heart beat faster even as it grew heavier, as if your instinct was warning you before you even heard what he’d had to say.

“You are to marry Crown Prince Taehyung.”

________________________________

Continued in Part Two: Of Two Hearts

#armiesnet #hyunglinenetwork #bts writing squad #bangtan bookclub #networkbangtan #btssunshinenet #noonanet #jin angst #namjoon angst #jimin angst #bts angst #jin scenarios #taehyung scenarios #namjoon scenarios #jimin scenarios

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manicpixiedreamjew · 6 years ago

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ok i rewrote and revised my letter! let me know what you think

2/9/19

Rabbi Randy,

As our Into class comes to an end, a lot has been on my mind. My spirituality, my values; how my perception of the world has changed as I solidify my Jewish identity, especially as a young woman. I spent a few hours poring over journal entries dating back all the way to 2016 this Shabbat, and a consistent theme stood out in all of them: an overwhelming, genuine urge to live an authentic Jewish life. I read, thrown back into the innocent curiosity, the puppy love, the childlike fascination with Jews and Judaism that began with a book. The Chosen, the very first Jewish book I read, and I’m sure I’ve told you this story before; I’ll spare the details.

Anyway, those first inklings of interest, say, early 2016, were academic. I was a vehement atheist born to a family of atheists. Then again, who has a nuanced understanding of religion and people-hood at sixteen? My atheism was an obstinate, cynical world view triggered by traumatic experiences with Christianity. When I picked up The Chosen, though...I was slapped right across the face. Judaism was the first thing that challenged my philosophies; it forced me into an entirely foreign universe I never thought I’d know, need or understand. It taught me empathy foremost, in those early days...studying Judaism exhorted me to bear the burden of others, to feed the hungry (a MAZON seminar comes to mind), comfort the weary. Looking at my journal, an entry dated 3/3/17 elaborates on the effects of antisemitism in America, and next to that a newspaper cut out of a Magen David. It wasn’t quite personal then, but it was something I wouldn’t have looked twice at a few years earlier. It disturbed me deeply.

Then, mid-late 2017. The journal entries shifted, as you’d expect; I’d been exhaustively involved in reading and researching by then. I see a lovingly inscribed entry detailing, religiously, my first Kabbalat Shabbat at CRC. 7/1/17. The smells, the melodies, my friends, the birthday celebration of two elderly men who loved baseball. “A deep, riveting admiration for something ancient and pulsing with life.” That puppy-love stage was in full effect, my love of Judaism and its personal implications blossomed over the springtime, although its fragrance wasn’t entirely sweet: I was forced to confront my identity and ask myself that looming question. Do I want to become a Jew?

That question threw me for a loop. It was an emotionally intense time. I confided to my closest friend that, although it may sound absurd, converting to Judaism was something I was interested in. I remember crying myself to sleep some nights because the decision was so massive, so heavy, so entirely suffocating for someone with no background in religion, no sense of community or family. Eventually, though, my fate did not seem so dire, and I came to my senses: I loved Judaism. I loved it, I love it. One of the first things that stood out to me and comforted me was the Jewish emphasis on family, something I never experienced. I clung to it: how someone’s always there for you; how you’re adopted into world-wide support network called the Tribe. How no matter where you travel, anywhere in the world, someone will enthusiastically invite you over for Shabbat lunch. How, because you are Jewish, you will never suffer alone.

That, then, began my serious resolve to be Jewish, do Jewish and live Jewish.

Ever since I met with you on 11/21/17 (I have an entry for that, too!), my life has been a foray into Jewishness. You told me to start observing Shabbat and Yom Tov, and I did so with vigor: I bought a chanukiah, acquired the shiniest candlesticks I could, and read every book the local library had regarding proper observances. I look back on my first few holidays and laugh now, playfully admonishing myself for my mistakes and mishaps. But that’s the fun, right? If I learned anything from this week’s Parsha (Terumah), it’s that the means are more much important than the end, the intention more meaningful than the actualization. Late 2017 to early 2018 was all that: learning, doing, experiencing, interacting, existing with a fat dose of humility. Organizing a basic Jewish vocabulary, and through Shabbat services and working with the community, pinning down what it means to live a Jewish life.

Enter 2018! This was, perhaps, the most frustrated and chaotic year on my Journey to Jewish. To start, it was my last semester of high-school. Everything, and I mean Everything, was dependent on my graduation—most saliently my own happiness and sanity. My synagogue attendance was dwindling, my ambition and motivation was all but absent. I’ve always suffered from depression and severe anxiety, but its clutch tightened horribly those first few months. I managed to attend a Kol Nidre service in early September—and, it remains one of my most beautiful and cherished memories to date. December, I know, was the hardest. Between my Catholic father making crusade jokes and my Jesus-obsessed mother spewing casual antisemitism, between unending loads of coursework and no free time, I felt my spirit literally withering. This never weakened my resolve to live Jewishly, but some days I just couldn’t bring myself to enact the values I knew I held in my heart. Some days Judaism felt like a beloved friend, and others Judaism felt like a stranger. Nevertheless I continued to live as Jewish a life I could, but even kindling the Chanukah candles felt joyless. I was like Tevye standing in the middle of the woods, anguished, as his horse refused to budge. Through all of it, though—the sadness, numbness, friction—I was never, ever, once deterred. That’s how life is sometimes. But to be a Jew, as our own Reb Tevye zealously insisted, you must have hope.

And I did. This is when Judaism became real to me, when I realized it was a part of my life and etched into my very being. If I could live Jewishly, study, be a part of my community and find solace while also dealing with these hardships, this was clearly meant to be. I’ve been using “us” and “we” pronouns for a few months now, referring to myself as Jewish even though I’ve yet to immerse in a mikveh. When our class visited the Holocaust museum, the loss and heartache I felt was profoundly intimate...a personal loss, the loss of family I never had the opportunity to know and love. I had never experienced anything like that before, and it continues to haunt me. I’ve been the target of hateful and ignorant remarks. People have glowered at my Magen David; they’ve called me names and insulted me. “Christ killer, money hoarder, dirty Jew.”

But, and I’m a bit weepy remembering this, living Jewishly (and loudly at that) is a blessing. Maybe two summers ago I catered to an older family for their son’s graduation party. An uncle approached me, blinked at my Magen David and muttered “bless you.” I was visibly shaken; I wasn’t sure what to make of it. Later in the evening the grandmother touched my shoulder and asked, “are you Jewish?” I told her I was a conversion student. She embraced me, dug out dreidels from her kitchen drawer, and told me that she was separated from her Judaism during childhood. That it was too dangerous for her to practice, that she wanted to go back to synagogue now that she was safe. I encouraged her daughter to finally have her bar mitzvah. My heart was full. Another memory I’m fond of: wishing a stranger chag Pesach sameach and Shabbat Shalom on the street. He was wearing a kippah. The smile on that man’s face was unforgettable.

Those moments, to me, were godly. Actions are a conduit of holiness; I’ve learned that over the years. To act with intent and sanctify the mundane is second nature to us. A bracha, a kind word, charity, song...everything is a vessel for godliness.

Fast forward a bit: 2019. As I grew into my adult identity, so did I into my Jewish identity. I had my 18th birthday, graduated, passed my driving test. I began to wrap my hair on Shabbat, meditate on the Sh’ma swathed in a tallit, give tzedakah. Often times I sat in the little CRC classroom and pondered on the application of my learning: how it translated into my everyday life, how it reconciled with my values as a progressive woman in today’s society...but mostly, I think, I thought about how at home I felt. I walk into CRC and immediately feel at peace; a part of a family, the member of a loving household. I walk into the sanctuary and about a dozen people are ready to greet me with big, heartfelt smiles. It melts me every single time.

Alright, I’ll quit boring you with all this schmaltz.

I’m not sure that there was one definite moment when I knew, for sure, that being Jewish was the right choice for me. In fact, to assume all that soul searching could fit into one tiny, fleeting, ephemeral moment is ridiculous...as you know from the absurd length of this letter, which is only a minute fraction of my story. Seriously, I could go on, and on, and on; but I digress. Sitting at our Sukkot celebration and dancing with all the other people, looking up through the sukkah and marveling at the hanging plants and leaves. Baking challah on Friday morning and realizing that somewhere, other Jewish women are doing the exact same thing. Feeling warm summer wind on my face, seeing fireflies flicker through the bushes and knowing that HaShem is there. Touching my siddur to the Torah for the first time and bristling, feeling as though something breathed new life into me. Group Aliyah, a guiding hand on my shoulder as we chant the brachot in clumsy unison…

Each moment (and many more, and yet more to come) reaffirmed the fact that Judaism is my home. Ruth said it more succinctly and eloquently than I ever could: Your people shall be my people, and your God shall be my God.

Randy, I never thought I’d be doing this. Ever. Looking back at the learning and growing I’ve done, reading those journals and reminiscing on my journey, I can firmly say, if you agree, I’m ready to enter this Covenant officially.

Thank you for everything, as always,

Zoë

#oops its 5 pages #save

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mldrgrl · 6 years ago

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36 and Four Minutes

by: mldrgrl Rated: PG-13 Summary: Based off a psychological study I read about a husband and wife team who attempted to create love in a lab. This is set the night before The Unnatural and hopefully acts as a precursor for the season of secret sex ;)

It had been a rough year, to say the least. Mulder could not remember a time in his life where so many shitty things seemed to happen in such a short period of time. The worst of it was, he could feel Scully slipping away from him, little by little. It scared him, to be honest, and he did not behave well when he was scared, which pushed her even further away than she already was. He needed something to bring them back together, to get them on the same page before Skinner took action and tried to send them to another team building seminar. The last thing in the world he wanted to do was attend a team building seminar, and he was fairly certain he was not going to find another pair of mothmen to get them out of it a second time should they be forced to go.

He learned about the study from one of his chats with Karin Berquist, of all people. Though the reclusive and anti-social dog behaviorist put all her energy into canine studies, that was not how she began her career. She told him to look up Arthur Aron’s 36 questions, which he did, and the study of lab-generated intimacy seemed like it would be the perfect tool to strengthen the bonds of his partnership, but first he had to get Scully on board, and that would be no easy task. She wasn’t really talking to him all that much since Phillip Padgett wreaked his havoc on their lives.

Getting her out of the office was essential. He didn’t want to be interrupted by work and he needed her to have her guard down a little. He thought about surprising her at home, but she wasn’t too keen on surprises and treated him with suspicion when he showed up at her door. Of course, every time he had shown up at her door unannounced, he always brought work with him, so she had every right to be suspicious. On Friday night, he took a shot in the dark while she was shutting down her computer for the day.

“You wanna grab a beer with me?” Mulder asked. He had come around to the front of his desk and rocked forward and back against the chair there as he watched her pack up.

“Now?” she answered, zipping up her bag. “I’ve got some things I need to do.”

“Now?”

“Yes. I’ll see you Monday.”

“What kind of things?”

“Mulder.”

He let go of the chair and moved towards her to help her with her overcoat. “Things I could help with?”

“Laundry.”

“Scully, it’s Friday night. Don’t tell me you’re turning me down for dirty clothes.”

“There’s also soe cleaning I need to do and catching up on JAMA.”

“Now I’m hurt.”

“It’s not about you, Mulder.”

The fleeting glance up at him she gave said otherwise and it made him even more determined to get her to come out with him. He had done some asshole things over the years and left her behind at times, chosen other options because he thought they were more important in the moment, but never did he do it because he simply didn’t want to be in a room with her, like she was doing now. It stung.

“Dinner is included,” he said, careful to keep all traces of desperation out of his voice. “My treat of course.”

“Look, I just…”

“...have better things to do?” He swallowed and then nodded, unintentionally playing into her sympathies as he slowly trudged back to his desk. “Some other time then. Have a nice weekend.”

“Mulder…”

“Yeah?”

“One beer.”

Once he had her on the hook, he sweetened the deal ever further by taking her to a bar he’d dropped in on a few times that was by her apartment. It had a relaxed atmosphere, served food, and he’d never seen it busy. They both parked in front of her building and walked the few blocks over to the little hole in the wall. They hung their jackets on a rack by the door and Mulder rolled up his shirtsleeves as he straddled a barstool at the far end of the bar.

At the other end of the bar sat two older men, engrossed in conversation. Behind them, in the middle section of a row of three booths, a man and woman sat together, also engrossed in conversation. At the back near the restrooms, a jukebox played at a pleasant volume, only loud enough to keep the conversations private.

So few and far between were patrons, the bartender had been lounging at his station reading a paperback. He had hopped to attention when the door scraped closed behind them and approached their corner with coasters and napkins at the ready.

“Shiner Bock,” Mulder answered when the kid, probably only just barely able to legally drink himself asked what he would have.

“Same for me,” Scully added. “What are you reading?”

“Um, it’s called Men are From Mars, Women are From Venus,” the young man answered, opening their bottles. “My girlfriend is making me read it.”

Mulder snorted softly. “What was the fight about?”

“She says I don’t listen. Well, she says I listen, but I don’t hear.”

“Could be an epidemic,” Scully said, inspecting a freestanding plastic menu on the countertop in front of her.

Mulder glanced her way and then raised his brows at the bartender. The bartender raised his back as though he understood completely.

“Any advice?” the kid asked.

“She’d probably be the first to tell you that I’m the last person you should ask,” Mulder answered, tipping his head towards Scully as he took his first sip of his beer.

“Relationships are work,” Scully said. “And they take time to cultivate. Take your time and do the work.”

“How long have you guys been together?”

“Seven years,” Mulder answered, just as Scully also replied, “Oh, we’re just…”

“Then you must be doing something right.” The kid glanced between the two of them and then straightened again. “Would you like to order anything?”

“Chicken salad sandwich,” Scully answered.

“Burger, medium rare,” Mulder said. After the kid walked away, Scully gave Mulder a bit of a scowl and he shrugged. “What?” he asked. “You walked into my office March of ‘92. It is now March 26, 1999. Happy late anniversary, honey.” He held his beer out at a slight angle close to hers.

After a few moments, Scully actually picked up her bottle and tapped it against Mulder’s. “I hadn’t even realized it’s been…that long.”

Mulder felt like this was the opening he’d been wanting. He nodded a little and turned towards her on his stool. “It is a long time. And you know, if we go back to what you just said, relationships take time to cultivate.”

“Yes.”

“I read this study recently about an experiment a psychologist performed back in the ‘60s where he wanted to see if he could scientifically cultivate relationships within a lab.”

“That sounds absurd.”

“Well, it worked.”

Scully laughed lightly and took a pull from her beer. “Worked how?”

“Their subjects were married within six months.”

“That’s not really proof of anything though.”

“Aren’t you curious how he did it?”

“You haven’t even told me what he did.”

“He developed a series of questions that people answer together and it can instantly bring two strangers into an intimate relationship.”

“Give me an example.”

Mulder took a sip of his beer and then held up a finger. He backed off the barstool and went over to his jacket on the rack. He fished out the paper that was folded in his breast pocket and went back to the bar.

“You have them with you?” Scully asked, raising her brow.

“You want to run our own experiment?” he answered.

“Let me see.” She held out her hand for his paper, but he held it away.

“There are rules. You can’t read them first. We take turns doing the asking, but we both have to answer.”

“Where’s the experiment in it?”

“Either it’s cultivating, or it isn’t.”

“We’re not strangers, though.”

“No, but...how well do we really know each other?”

There was a look of both surprise and agreement in Scully’s eyes. She took a long drink from her bottle and then placed it on the counter with extra care. She wiped her knuckle across her bottom lip and the corner of her mouth.

“You don’t know what these questions are?” she asked.

“Nope. I only read about the study.”

“What if there’s one we don’t want to answer?”

“I’m willing to answer all of them, whether I want to or not.”

“I don’t know if I can promise that, but alright. I’ll play.”

Mulder smiled and unfolded the paper. He grabbed a napkin from the bar and covered the printed list of questions so that they would stay hidden and then he placed the paper between them on the bar.

“Should we flip a coin to see who goes first?” he asked.

“Just start,” she answered. “Before I change my mind.”

“Number one. Given the choice of anyone in the world, whom would you want as a dinner guest?”

“That’s easy,” she said, immediately after Mulder finished the question. “Eleanor Roosevelt.”

“Oh, come on.”

“What?”

“You said once that you’d try to live in her body as a day, she can’t also be your answer for dinner guest.”

“Last I checked, there were no rules in this questionnaire.”

“Well, there is one rule, complete honesty.”

“And that is my honest answer. Eleanor Roosevelt.”

“Why?”

“She was an amazing woman with an amazing life and I’d like to know more about her from her own mouth. I would love to know how she accomplished all she did. I think she’d be just about the most fascinating dinner guest I could ever hope for.”

“Okay, fine.”

“And what would be your answer?”

“The King, of course.”

“I guess I should’ve expected that. Why, though? Why Elvis and why not...why not George Hale?”

“George Hale? Because I’m having a dinner party, not an astronomy symposium.”

“He’s got to be a better conversationalist though.”

Mulder made a noise of disagreement with his beer at his lips and shook his head. “I beg to differ. Elvis would have stories. Why would I pick George Hale?”

“Wouldn’t you want someone more...intellectually stimulating?”

“I mean, it’s dinner, not a life partner.”

“Oh.” Scully ducked her head a little and hid a smile in her beer.

“What?”

“Nothing. That’s just...good to know.”

He passed the paper her way. “Your turn.”

“Two. Would you like to be famous? In what way?”

Mulder screwed up his face a little. “No. But, I think the better question is, if I had to be famous for something, what would it be?”

“What would it be then?”

“When I was a kid, I wanted to be a pro baseball player. I wanted to play for the Yankees and I wanted to hold records and be in the baseball hall of fame.”

“Did you ever try to pursue it?”

“Nah. It was just a dream. It sort of died on the vine before I was even out of Little League.”

“You played Little League?”

“West Tisbury Diamondback, second baseman, number 14.”

Scully smiled as though she was picturing it. “How old were you?”

“Six. Six, I think, when I started. I was nine when I quit.”

“Why? You seem to really love it. Even still.”

“Things were already kind of rocky at home by then. It was just better if I...you know.”

“Oh.”

“So what about you?”

“No aspirations for fame.”

“But, if you had to be famous for something, what would it be?”

Scully took a few moments to think. She started to answer, then hesitated, and started again after another few moments. “I’d like to discover something,” she said. “Be the first to...find a cure for something or...just something in that arena.”

Mulder got quiet and scratched at the label on his bottle. “Like a cure for cancer?” he asked.

“Maybe.”

“There’s still time.”

“No. I can’t imagine being locked in a lab somewhere running endless amounts of tests. No.”

He wanted to tell her that at least she’d be safe, but he knew she’d find it patronizing. Truthfully, he couldn’t imagine Scully spending her days in a lab any more than she could. But, really, he just didn’t want to imagine her anywhere but his side.

“Mulder?”

“What?”

“Your turn.”

“Right. Three. Before making a phone call, do you ever rehearse what you're going to say? Why?”

“Not now,” she answered. “I don’t have time to think when I make a call, usually.”

“You said not now, was there ever?”

A smile bloomed on Scully’s face and the apples of her cheeks turned a rosy hue. “There was one time, I was about twelve or so, and I kind of had my first crush.”

Mulder smiled as Scully was momentarily lost in the joy of her memory. She laughed to herself for a few moments and tucked her hair back over her ears. It was possibly the cutest thing he’d ever seen her do.

“I was sort of a tomboy growing up, you know?” she continued. “So, I really didn’t...I wanted him to see me as more than the girl he rode his bike to the beach with. And Melissa was the girliest girl I knew. Plus, she’d already had at least five or six boyfriends that I knew of, so I went to her for help.”

“What was this kid’s name?”

“Mikey.”

“I’m guessing you called Mikey in a Cyrano-like scenerio.”

“That is exactly what I did.”

“And what happened?”

“Crashed and burned. He kept asking me why I was being so weird and I was so mortified by the whole experience I cried into my pillow for the next week and refused to ride bikes with him again.”

“That is so sad.”

“It’s a good memory, though.” Scully flashed a smile at Mulder. “Missy felt terrible about it and it brought us closer.”

“I’m glad you have that.”

“Me too. So, do you rehearse your calls?”

“When I was with the VCU, sometimes I found it easier to work off a script if I had to make difficult calls. You know, if I had to question a grieving widow about her husband’s murder or a parent who just lost a child. I found that...it didn’t really work though. People are more responsive to authenticity.”

“I’ve always thought you were good with people.”

“You have?” He paused with his nearly empty beer close to his mouth, genuinely surprised.

“Yes.”

“Being good with people is not something I’ve ever been accused of.”

“You don’t give yourself enough credit.”

Mulder put his beer down and his brows came together. He knew his shortcomings. He had issues with authority. He had no patience for arrogance or incompetence. He was sometimes unduly antagonistic with suspects. He truly didn’t understand how Scully could sit there and say he was good with people.

“You should see the look on your face right now,” Scully said.

“I’m just a little...are you joking?”

“Are you really unaware of how compassionate you are?”

“I...um…”

A lull in the conversation followed. Mulder stared at Scully and she stared at her beer. They’d only made it through three questions and already she’d shocked him, and it was such an innocuous question at that. He suddenly wished he’d read through all the questions so he could see what else might be coming.

“Number four,” Scully said, turning the paper towards her with her fingertips and breaking the silence. “What would constitute a perfect day for you?”

Mulder blinked and cleared his head. “Uh. Um, I think, probably waking up to a sunny day, not too hot, maybe going for a nice run and finding a pick up game of basketball. Ordering a really good pizza and watching the Yankees win the world series. No, being at the game behind home plate. That would be the perfect day.”

“I think the same as you, I’d like to wake up with the sun shining and a nice breeze. I’d probably go to the beach and then have someone take me out in a sailboat for awhile. I want to eat some really good seafood, sit in front of a bonfire for a bit, then end the day with a bubble bath and a glass of wine.”

“That sounds really nice.”

Scully shrugged.

“You want another beer?” he asked, noticing she was running low as he finished his.

“Sure.”

Mulder held up his beer bottle to get the bartender’s attention and then flashed two fingers at him. The kid came back with two more beers and took their empty bottles away.

“Food should be ready in about five minutes or so,” the kid said.

“Do you have any chips or pretzels?” Scully asked.

“Sure.”

“Getting comfortable?” Mulder asked her.

“We’re only on question five and I’ve resigned myself to the fact that I’m not getting any laundry done tonight,” she answered, and then thanked the kid when he slid a bowl of pretzels onto the bar between them. “Besides, if you’re buying, I might as well take advantage.”

Mulder chuckled and slid the paper back in his direction as she munched on a pretzel. He then let out a full laugh when he read the next question and looked at her with a wide smile.

“When did you last sing to yourself?” he asked. “To someone else?”

“You already know the answer to that question.”

“Yeah, but I want to hear you answer anyway. And I don’t know when the last time you sang to yourself was.”

“I don’t sing. I couldn’t carry a tune in a bucket. The last time I was forced-”

“No one forced you. I made a very polite request which you were kind enough to comply with.”

“Shut up, Mulder. You answer.”

“I sang in the shower this morning. A very soulful rendition of Heartbreak Hotel that would make angels weep.”

Scully rolled her eyes. “I’m sure.”

“And I don’t remember the last time I sang to someone. But, if we’re ever lost in the woods again, I want you to know I’d happily sing you to sleep and I’ll even take requests.”

“That is exactly why we’re never going into the woods ever again. Question six. If you were able to live to the age of 90 and retain either the mind or body of a 30-year old for the last 60 years of your life, which would you choose?”

“Hm. Hm.” While Mulder was thinking about the question, their food was brought out. They took a pause to arrange their plates and then he returned to his thoughts. “So the problem is, this question assumes that there will be a decline both physically and mentally. I’m not even actually really worried about either.”

“Really?”

“Oh yeah, I plan to be as handsome and brilliant at 90 as I am today.”

Scully, about to take a bite of her sandwich, burst out laughing and had to put the sandwich back down. “That’s assuming you’re handsome and brilliant,” she said, wiping her greasy fingers with a napkin.

“Um, ouch.”

“You have to pick one.”

“Brains.”

“I think I would go with the body.”

“I don’t believe that for a second.”

“Don’t you remember that time on the Ardent? If that’s what it feels like to be physically old, I’m choosing the body.”

“Damn, I’d forgotten about that.”

“Looks like you’re losing the brains already.”

“Har har.” He gave her a fake glare before turning his attention to the next question. He pursed his lips and glanced at Scully as she finally took a bite of her dinner. “Um. Number seven. Do you...do you have a secret hunch about how you will die?”

“I don’t, remember?”

Mulder looked down at his burger. “You don’t have to answer this one.”

“I think we’ve both come too close to death not to think about it.”

“Yeah, but it’s not something I like to think about.”

“Facing your own mortality is-”

“You, dying,” he interrupted. “I don’t want to think about that.”

Scully wiped her fingers off with another napkin and then she turned herself towards Mulder and put a hand on his knee. “I plan on going in my sleep, peacefully, a long time from now.”

“You can’t plan on that.”

“Don’t get maudlin on me. Not when we’re having such a nice time.”

“You’re having a nice time?”

“I have free dinner, drinks, and good conversation. I’m having a nice time, so tell me how you think you’ll die.”

Mulder laughed and she squeezed his knee before returning to her sandwich. “I don’t know, but I’d like it to be the same as you.”

“You might want to think about that the next time you jump onto a moving train.”

“That’s why I need to keep my 30 year old brain intact to stop me from doing stupid things.”

“Hasn’t stopped you yet.”

“Touché.” He lifted his beer at her in salute and then took a drink.

“Number eight. Name three things you and your partner appear to have in common. Oh, I like this one.”

“I certainly didn’t think we had anything in common when we first met.”

“Well, we were both FBI agents.” She smiled at him as she brought her sandwich up to her mouth.

“Let me think.” He ate his burger, chewing slowly and washing down each bite with a sip of beer. He watched Scully nibble on a slice of pickle that was laid out behind her sandwich.

“Tick tock, Mulder.”

“Okay, we are both FBI agents.”

“Cheater.”

“We both like the same beer. And we both prefer music over talk radio.”

“I don’t, actually.”

“Don’t what?”

“Prefer music.”

“Really? But…”

“I prefer that it keeps you occupied on long car rides. You get antsy when we listen to talk radio.”

“I didn’t know that. I thought that...I didn’t know you were being deferential.”

“It’s to save my sanity as much as yours.”

“We can listen to talk radio if you want.”

“Then I’d just miss out on your enthusiastic air guitar solos.”

Mulder actually felt himself blush at that. Scully never seemed to pay that close attention to him, whether she was driving or engrossed in a casefile.

“My turn,” she said. “We both prefer driving over flying. I think we are both good at what we do. And we have both lost loved ones because of it.”

“I wish we didn’t have that in common.”

“I do too.”

Mulder nodded softly before he moved to the next question. “Nine. For what in your life do you feel most grateful?”

“That’s difficult. I have a lot I’m grateful for.”

He left her to ponder while he ate his burger. He was already low on his second beer, but he didn’t want another quite yet. He didn’t intend to get drunk, and he didn’t want her to be either.

“That I’m here,” Scully blurted suddenly. “I am most grateful, above everything else, that I’m still here.”

“We can name that as another thing we have in common, because that’s my answer too.” He looked at her hand where it rested on the bar and wanted to cover it with his, but he didn’t.

“10,” she said. “If you could change anything about the way you were raised, what would it be?”

“I wish I’d had parents that talked more. To me and to each other. You know, when it wasn’t silent, it was loud. I never knew which was worse.”

“It was always loud at my house. I used to wish for silences. I wouldn’t trade that chaos now for anything, but I used to back then. I guess I would’ve liked to have had my dad around a little more, but sometimes it was confusing when he was home.”

“How so?”

“My mother was a fairly typical woman of her time. She was devoted to her church, her husband, and her children, in that order. Most of the time, we saw her as a very capable, strong woman, until Ahab came home, and it was like he was the king and we were all his subjects. It was easier adjusting to new schools and new neighborhoods than it was adjusting to a mom who suddenly answered all questions with ‘go ask your father.’ And while she was strict, she still never ran as tight of ship as Ahab. Rules changed, bedtimes changed, everything changed in the weeks he’d be there.

“At first, when he’d come home, we were all pretty reverent. Happy to see him, excited he was home, but the novelty wore off pretty quickly. The thing is, he was used to sailors who snapped to attention when all he had to do was walk by. He wasn’t accustomed to rowdy children who were different each time he returned. He loved us, of course, and we loved him, but I don’t know that we ever really knew each other.”

“That’s the most I’ve ever heard you talk about your father.”

“That’s probably the most I’ve ever really talked about it.”

“What would you change then?”

Scully tilted her head and squinted her eyes closed for a bit. “I think what I want, or what I would’ve wanted, is for my mother not to have made him so mythical. And I would’ve liked for Ahab to have acknowledged her more as an equal partner. Or even have acknowledged that she did more than he did.”

“They were happy though, weren’t they?”

“I think so.”

“Well, I think that counts for something.” Mulder paused and snorted when he read the next question. “Take four minutes and tell your partner your life story in as much detail as possible.”

“This is a question that would probably be easier to answer if we were strangers.”

“Why do you say that?”

“I feel like I’d just be boring you with things you already know.”

“We could skip it, if you really wanted to.”

“It feels a little redundant, don’t you think?”

“Okay. Well, go ahead with the next one then.”

“12. If you could wake up tomorrow having gained one quality or ability, what would it be?”

“Easy. I’ve always wanted to be able to be invisible at will so I can get into any place at any time.”

“I think they mean real ability though.”

“Why isn’t invisibility a real ability?”

“Because people can’t be invisible.”

“Oh, you really want to debate that?”

“Okay, okay. Then I want the ability to know all languages.”

“I guess that would be kind of cool. Not as cool as invisibility, but still.” He leaned over to bump his shoulder with hers and she rolled her eyes. “13. If a crystal ball could tell you the truth about yourself, your life, the future or anything else, what would you want to know?”

“I wouldn’t want to know the future, I know that much.”

“Why not?”

“It may not be something I like or want to hear. I think I would like to know where…” She stopped suddenly and sucked in her breath. He put a hand on her back and leaned forward to look at her. “I would like to know the truth of where Emily came from.”

“I’d like to know the truth about what happened to my sister.”

“Then again, Mulder, we may not like what we hear.”

He rubbed her back for a moment in a circle and then dropped his hand. She gave him a small smile and looked at the paper.

“14,” she said. Is there something that you've dreamt of doing for a long time? Why haven't you done it?”

“I did the thing I dreamed of doing a few years back.”

“What was it?”

“Visiting Graceland.”

“When did you visit Graceland?”

“Uh…” He gave her a sheepish look. “You were in Philly.”

“Ah. Well, lately I’ve been thinking about taking a cooking class or dance lessons-”

“Dance lessons! What kind of dance lessons?”

“Any kind. Or a painting class. Something that would put me in the world of other people doing normal things. As to why I haven’t done it, who has the time?”

Mulder was already racking his brain. It was too bad she didn’t mention wanting to learn baseball. He could teach her how to hit and they’d probably both have a lot of fun with it. She deserved some fun in her life. He looked over at her and saw she had a smear of mayonnaise on her cheek. Without thinking, he reached over and thumbed it off. It brought back memories of eating ribs and barbecue sauce on the corner of her mouth. She looked at him then like she was looking at him now, like a mixture of amusement and shyness, but she hadn’t pulled away then and she didn’t pull away now. He thought again about how grateful he was that she was still there beside him.

“Have you had enough?” Scully asked.

“Hm?”

“It’s your turn to ask.”

“Oh. 15. What is the greatest accomplishment of your life?”

“Making it through the academy. In some ways, it was harder than med school.”

“Physically?”

“Mentally. Emotionally. I was one of only four women in my class. Two dropped out.”

“I never knew that.”

“Yeah, but I had the best shot out of all of them. That sure pissed some of those guys off.”

Mulder laughed and unconsciously rubbed the bullet wound in his shoulder.

“What’s your biggest accomplishment?” she asked.

“I don’t know.”

“What about the monograph that put away Monte Propps? That had to be pretty satisfying, all that hard work and putting away a serial killer in the end?”

“Yeah, I guess.”

“It wasn’t satisfying?”

“I’d feel better about it if he hadn’t murdered 13 people first.”

“But your work stopped him from murdering even more. And it brought closure to the victim’s families. That has to mean something.”

“Alright, then that’s my biggest accomplishment.”

“It’s not about what I think though, Mulder, you’re supposed to tell me.”

He couldn’t tell her, though. He couldn’t sit there and tell her that his greatest accomplishment was that he hadn’t succeeded in pushing her away. So he just shrugged and agreed that Monte Propps was his greatest accomplishment and had to look away because he could tell she didn’t believe him.

“16,” she said, quietly. “What do you value most in a friendship?”

“Loyalty,” he said.

“Honesty,” she countered, giving him a raised eyebrow, which he ignored.

“Number 17. What is your most treasured memory?”

For a moment or two, Scully looked like she was going to call him out on the change of subject, but she relaxed the tight expression on her face and her eyes moved up in thought. “My parents woke us up early one morning, before the sun was even up, put us in the station wagon and told us to just go back to sleep, we were going to visit a cousin of ours or something. Turns out they were surprising us with a day at Disneyland. Pulling into that parking lot I felt like I’d never been so excited for something in my life.”

“I guess a kid never forgets his first trip to Disneyland.”

“Did you ever go?”

“No. We didn’t really do the family vacation thing. Summer’s on the island, that was it. Not that I’m complaining. I had a lot of fun back then.” He paused for a second. “Actually, I’m going to say that my most treasured memory involved summer vacation. I had my first kiss and the first time I held hands with a girl on the same day.”

“What was her name?”

“Jenny. Jenny Johnson. Her family lived on the island year round. She had a sister Samantha’s age. Becky, I think. Or Betsy? That I can’t remember, but she and Sam used to play together. I had to watch Sam, Jenny had to watch her sister as well, so we ended up spending a lot of time together. We got permission to take the girls to a carnival that was in town one day and, I took my chances and kissed her when we were on this haunted house ride. Well, first I put my arm around her when she screamed, because I’m smooth like that.”

Scully laughed out loud against her beer bottle and stopped just before she took a drink. “A real Don Juan at--how old were you?”

“Twelve.”

“Twelve. Keep going, I want the full story.”

“Well, it was the kind of ride where things pop out at you and stuff and at first it was a lot of surprise, but then it was just kind of silly, so we were laughing and just before the ride ended, I could kind of see in the dark that we were headed for the doors, and I just...leaned in and kissed her.”

“And then?”

“And then we were temporarily blinded by the sun, but when she blinked at me, she looked like the happiest anyone had ever looked to me. She grabbed my hand when we got out of the ride and we pretty much spent the rest of the day like that.”

“That isn’t really what I expected you to say.”

“What did you expect?”

“I don’t know, but not a sweet little summer romance.”

“Little is right. By the next day, all Sam could talk about was Fox and Jenny sittin’ in a tree, and I got pissed, and then Jenny got pissed that I was pissed and accused me of being embarrassed of dating an islander--I didn’t even know we were dating or what dating really was, and it that was pretty much the end of that. But, that day at the carnival. It was perfect.”

“I guess that’s a good segue into number 18. What is your most terrible memory?”

“Ah, well. I’m going to have to be predictable here and say the night Samantha...well…”

“Yeah. And I’ll say when I found out Melissa…”

“Kind of a shitty thing to have in common.”

“I’ll say.”

“You’re empty,” Mulder said, nodding at Scully’s beer as she tipped her head back and drained the rest. “Another round?”

“I’ll pass.”

“If you change your mind, say the word.”

“You’ll be the first to know.”

“19. If you knew that in one year you would die suddenly, would you change anything about the way you are now living? Why?”

Scully went quiet, her thumb circling the lip of her empty beer bottle. Her gaze seemed to lack direction, like she was staring at nothing. The silence was so prolonged, Mulder became attuned to the jukebox again. Fleetwood Mac’s Dreams was playing.

“Bet you wish you had that third beer,” he said, uncomfortable with the stall in conversation.

A small smile lifted the corners of Scully’s lips, but she still didn’t say anything.

“You don’t have to answer this one if you don’t want to,” Mulder said.

“I’ll answer. I’m just forming my thoughts.”

“Take your time.”

Another bout of silence passed and finally Scully sighed. “When I thought that I was going to die, when the cancer...when I thought I wouldn’t make it out of the hospital, I tried to make peace with the things I would never do. I didn’t want to leave this world with regrets. So, I...I wrote letters. To my mother. To my brothers. To...you. And then I realized how unfair that was, how selfish it was to write the things down I could never say, but not let you do the same. So, I tore them all up.”

His curiosity was instantly piqued. “What did they say?”

“Maybe if there’s a question in there about things unsaid, I’ll tell you. But, to answer this question, when I found out I was in remission, that I was going to be fine, I told myself it was a second chance at some of those things I’d always wanted to do. It’s been, what, two years? I don’t think I’ve done any of them.”

“Let’s change that. Let’s do something on your list.”

“Maybe none of it was as important as I thought it was, if I haven’t done them yet. Or maybe I just didn’t learn the lesson. No, I don’t think I would change anything about the way I’m living now. I’m happy enough with...everything.”

It was the ‘happy enough’ that struck Mulder. He had a notion that there might be one or two things she would change that she was holding back on, but he wasn’t going to push. It was a difficult question to answer and he was struggling himself to come up with something to say.

“All that really matters is whether or not I was a good person,” Scully continued. “Right? To...to God, to those left behind. That’s what’s going to matter in the end. Not whether or not I...I don’t know, walked the great wall of China or something.”

“Is that on your list?”

“No.” Scully laughed. “I was trying to think of a common bucket list item for most people.”

“I feel like the most common bucket list item would be jumping out of an airplane.”

“Okay, then. Is that really going to matter down the line?”

“Probably not. But, you’ll have a good story for the grandkids.”

“Ah, well.”

As soon as he said it, Mulder felt like an ass. He meant it as a figure of speech, but he realized too late that it would bring up some unpleasant truths. Scully would never have grandkids - unless by some miracle. And she didn’t even know the whole story. He rubbed the back of his head uncomfortably.

“Uh, I think I’d do some things differently,” he said.

“Such as?”

“Get out of the office more. Do something fun on a Saturday night that doesn’t involve the gunmen starting arguments in internet chat rooms.”

“Is that what you guys do on the weekend?”

“Not every weekend.”

“Mulder, that’s just sad.”

“And what’re you doing on a Saturday night, Miss Scully? Laundry?”

“Alright, we both need lives.”

“I’d toast to that, but I’m out of beer, and I need to hit the head anyway.” He slid off the barstool and looked to the kid who was filling a drink order at the other end of the bar.

“You want me to order you another?”

“No, I’m good. Be right back.”

Mulder quickly used the restroom and stared at his reflection in the spotted, foggy mirror as he washed his hands. This was the most he’d ever really talked with Scully and he was enjoying himself. He wondered if he could find a way to make it a regular thing. Maybe then his Saturday nights wouldn’t feel so empty.

When he came back to the bar, he slowed his step. The remnants of their food had been taken away and there was a glass of iced tea in front of his seat. Scully looked like she was nursing a diet Coke.

“Didn’t want you to get parched,” she said, as he took a seat.

“Thanks.”

“So. Number 20. What does friendship mean to you?”

Mulder squeezed the wedge of lemon perched on the side of his glass into his tea. He thought about the gunmen, who he spent Saturday nights with or came to for help with technological problems, but didn’t confide all that much in. He thought about passing friendships he’d had in school or in the early days of work, people he went out for occasional beers with, but never saw outside the bullpen. And he thought about Scully, who he felt knew him inside and out and never held things he might have said in the heat of the moment against him, and ordered him iced tea because he might get thirsty.

“I guess it means everything to me,” he said. “I don’t know what I would do without…” He stopped short of specifying Scully by name, but by that point he was only thinking about his relationship with her. “Without someone to talk to,” he finished.

“Someone to rely on,” she said.

“Exactly. What about you?”

“That’s my answer. It means someone to rely on. I think everyone needs that in their life.”

“Agreed. 21. What roles do love and affection play in your life?”

Scully snorted and spoke into her glass. “Not nearly enough as I’d like.”

“Which part?”

“Both.” She sighed. “No, that’s not true. There is love in my life, though I’ll admit I could do better at it. And affection...is something I think I’ve always struggled with. I don’t dislike it, I’ve just never been very comfortable with it either.”

“So, you could use more love and try harder with affection?”

“Maybe. But, I think to answer the question I’d have to say, it probably doesn’t play as significant a role as it could, or even should.”

“That’s interesting.”

“Why is it interesting?”

“Because I feel like you have so many people in your life that love you.”

“Who, my mother? My brothers?”

“Hey, that’s three more than I’ve got.”

“Mulder, I lo...I think you’re wrong about that.”

“Name them.”

“We’re off track. You haven’t answered yet.”

“I’m a big fan of love and affection. When it’s in my life, I think it’s pretty great. I wish it didn’t come and go so easily, because it’s hard not to have it. Sometimes I think I need it as much as I want it.”

“Maybe you’ll find it once you start living it up on Saturday nights.”

“Maybe you will too.”

“22. Alternate sharing something you consider a positive characteristic of your partner. Share a total of five items.”

“You are unbelievably smart.”

“I like how gentle you are.”

“Gentle?”

“When you deal with people in difficult situations. We discussed it however many questions ago. You’re very gentle and I like that about you. I’ve appreciated it in my own difficult situations.”

“Oh.” Mulder blinked. It gave him a warm feeling to know he’d done something Scully appreciated. “Um. You are the most dependable person I know.”

“You are the most passionate person I know.”

“Is that just codeword for stubborn?”

“Maybe.”

Mulder grinned. “What are we at, three? You are more warm than I think you give yourself credit for.”

Scully scrunched her face as though she disagreed.

“See,” he said.

“I think you always do things with the best of intentions.”

“You don’t take shit from anyone, especially me.”

“You…” She closed her eyes and her brows came together.

“Uh oh, I only have three good qualities?”

“I just want to phrase this right. You have an ability to empathize at will.”

“I’ll have to ponder that one later. Last one? I don’t know if I would call it stamina, but for all that you’ve endured, you get back up, you keep fighting, you’re still here, and you’re stronger every time. Resilience, maybe, but it’s more than that. It’s...you’re just incredible, Scully, you really are.”

Scully’s eyes grew glassy and wet. “Dammit, Mulder,” she muttered, wiping her knuckles across her lashes.

“If the next question is what are negative qualities your partner possesses, I’ll start with unable to take a compliment, how about that?”

In response, Scully gave Mulder’s bicep a shove and he laughed as he pretended to slip off his barstool. She wiped her eyes again and then took a drink.

“I admire your ability to be free with your feelings,” she said. “Next question.”

Not that free, Mulder thought, looking at the paper. “Number 23. How close and warm is your family? Do you feel your childhood was happier than most other people's?”

“Close-ish. Not very warm, but warm enough. I don’t think my childhood was more or less happy than anyone else’s. It was sufficient for me, maybe not so much for Charlie or Melissa.”

“What about Bill Jr.?”

“He thrived on routine and order, as you can imagine.” She smiled and then laughed softly. “He would probably say it was idyllic.”

“I’m going to have to say my childhood was less than idyllic, not warm and not close. I don’t think that will come as a surprise to you.”

“Was it always like that though? Even before your sister was…”

“It was tumultuous. I didn’t really know it at the time, I just thought everyone had parents who yelled at each other when they were together, or dads who worked all the time and hit them when they weren’t home when the streetlights came on. It took me a long time to realize it wasn’t great.”

Scully reached over and covered Mulder’s hand with hers, giving it a squeeze. “I’m sorry that you went through that.”

“I made peace with that a long time ago.”

She nodded and withdrew her hand. “Oh, nice follow up question. 24. How do you feel about your relationship with your mother?”

Mulder sat back and sipped his iced tea. He pulled an ice cube into his mouth with his tongue and rolled it back and forth for a few moments before crunching down on it and shattering it into tiny pieces. When he was finished, he sucked in his bottom lip and scraped his teeth across it.

“It’s complicated,” he said. “I wish it weren’t. I think I’ve done a lot in my life to try to...to please her somehow, to make her proud, to protect her, to just...I don’t know. I’m not even sure she appreciates it, but I’ll do it anyway because she’s my mom. I don’t know if what I’ve done for her is out of love or obligation.”

“Sometimes it can feel like that same thing.”

“That’s for damn sure.” Mulder pulled another piece of ice into his mouth.

“I don’t think my mother and I understand each other very well. I know she wanted a different life for me, but also wanted me to forge my own path. I think she also thought at some point it would merge with her own ideals. She makes me feel guilty a lot for not being as present as she’d like me to be. I think our relationship is more about her than it is about me. I suppose that’s fine, but I’d also say she doesn’t know me as well as she thinks she does.”

“Would you like it to be better?”

“Does it sound awful to say that I don’t think I need it to be?”

“Not if that’s the truth.”

“I don’t need it to be.”

“Okay then. Make three true "we" statements each. For instance, "we are both in this room feeling..."

“That’s kind of a weird question. Okay, we are both FBI agents.”

“Oh, come on!”

“We eat together quite often, but it’s been a long time since we’ve had dinner together, if you know what I mean.”

“I do.”

“And, we haven’t talked like this in a long time.”

“Have we ever?”

“There were some times back in the early days of our partnership where we dug a little deeper. Never to this extent, but we’ve had some moments.”

“We should do this more often. That’s my first we statement, by the way, and a general comment. We should do this more often. We make a great team. And we both enjoy the same beer.”

“26. Complete this sentence, "I wish I had someone with whom I could share..."

“Huh. I don’t know that there’s a lot I don’t share with you.”

“Well, that isn’t the question.”

“I know, but what I’m saying is...I mean, I don’t really feel like I’m not sharing something. If there’s something I want to share, I share it with you.”

“There’s got to be something though.” She shook her head dismissively. “You share your slideshows and your theories and your strange depth of knowledge, but not…”

“Not what?”

“I don’t know, life things. What are life things that people share? Intimate things. Their...toothbrushes, their inner demons, their beds, their hopes for the future.”

“Is that your answer? Is that what you want to share with someone?”

“Of course I do, but at the same time, absolutely not.”

“I think we’ve shared some hopes with each other, and definitely demons. As for toothbrushes and beds, just say the word.”

“Are you telling me that you feel fulfilled right now?”

Mulder was momentarily tongue-tied and stuttered out an answer. “I don’t think I can say I feel unfulfilled Are there things I want? Sure. Intimate things? Yeah. I think that desiring emotional or even physical intimacy is a different question from what would I like to share with someone?”

“I think it’s the same.”

“And I would argue that saying I want someone to share a meal with at the end of every day is completely separate from saying I wish I had someone to hold me every night. Both answers imply a desire for intimacy, but a meal is a shared experience and the other is somewhat selfish. So, personally, I don’t interpret the question in that way, but if you want to qualify it and remove ‘share’ from the equation, I wish I had someone with whom I could spend a night with and would still be there in the morning. Absolutely.”

An extended silence followed, one in which Mulder could feel the tips of his ears burning with embarrassment. He never intended to lay the burden of his ache for intimacy at her feet. Not like that. And now it was out in the ether and he couldn’t take it back. Sure, he could make a self-deprecating joke about it, but then it might devalue the whole purpose of the questionnaire. He wished he could tell what she was thinking, but her face was shadowed, her expression hidden by the angle of her chin, down and away.

“Alright,” Scully finally said. “You make a valid point. But, I would like to add that I believe the examples you’ve given can also be a shared experience. You can want someone to share a night with, and then wake up and share the morning as well.”

“Then the most basic answer would always be that you want someone to share your life with.”

“That’s true, but...”

“And I also think in order to be shared, it has to be reciprocated as well. You have to give of yourself, but you have to be willing to receive as well.”

“I suppose if you’re not willing to open yourself up like that, it wouldn’t be a whole life, it would be half a life.”

“I didn’t say I was unwilling.”

“Well, I didn’t either.” She hesitated on her next breath and then laughed a little. “And I honestly don’t even know what the point is that we’re trying to make anymore.”

Mulder sighed silently in relief that the tension he felt was bubbling had burst with her laughter and then hesitantly turned the paper towards him. “Uh, number 27. If you were going to become a close friend with your partner, please share what would be important for him or her to know.”

“I’m sure you already know this, but I don’t open up very often. And I don’t do need very well.”

“I know tonight is an anomaly. That we probably won’t discuss it in the morning, or ever again. It doesn’t have to be that way though.”

She shifted in her seat and tucked her hair back over her ear. “Just answer the question.”

“I’d need her to know that I can be a bit of a stubborn asshole. And that sometimes I am blinded by need and I don’t make the best decisions.”

“28. Tell your partner what you like about them: be honest this time, saying things that you might not say to someone you've just met.”

“That implies I wasn’t being honest the last time I answered the question.”

“Maybe for strangers they could only answer more superficially until they got to know each other.”

“What, things like, I like your eyes or your hair or the way the top of your nose moves when you speak?”

Scully reached up and touched the bridge of her nose between her brows almost self-consciously and then brought her hand down just as quickly and wrapped it around her glass. “I think we can skip this one, unless you feel like there’s something you left out.”

“I do like more than three things about you, Scully.” He smiled and leaned into her teasingly. “But, if your quota was met earlier we can move on.”

“I do happen to like that stubbornness of yours. Just so you know.”

“You do?” He leaned back and scrutinized her, genuinely surprised. “Why?”

“You don’t give up easily, whether it’s on cases or on people. It’s that steadfast determination that gets you results where others may not.”

“I might have to remind you of this the next time you tell me to let something go. 29. Share with your partner an embarrassing moment in your life.”

“I was quite bookish in school.”

“No!”

Scully gave Mulder a flash of a scowl. “I won an award for a state science fair when I was in sixth grade, of which I was very proud of, but you know, other kids don’t really appreciate that kind of thing.”

“Kids are jerks.”

“No one would’ve ever had to know, but the principal read it over the PA in our morning announcements and well...it was bad enough that attention was called to it, but for the rest of the school year, this kid, Stevie, would salute me every time I walked into class and called me Dr. Nerd.”

“Uh, not to diminish your feelings, but Stevie’s the one who should be embarrassed. That’s the lamest nickname anyone has ever come up with in the history of nicknames.”

“Any nickname earned, however lame, can seem like the worst insult in the world when you’re ten.”

“True. I bet you can rest assured that Stevie hasn’t gone on to much success in life.”

“Who knows.”

“Well, contrary to what you might believe, I was not always as agile and suave as I am today.”

“Oh, is that what I believe?”

“I was also ten in my story and I was at a birthday party at a skating rink for arguably the prettiest girl in school, but I was a pretty lousy skater. I made it one round around the rink, mostly holding on to the side, and when I let go and tried to participate in the skate chain, I went ass over elbows in front of the entire class, but all I cared about was that I’d just ate shit in front of Cindy Palmer.”

Scully started laughing before he’d even made it to the punchline, like she might know what was coming. She made a sympathetic noise over her chuckles. “That’s terrible,” she stuttered and giggled at the same time. “I’m so sorry.”

“Childhood is rough. The smallest things seem like the end of the world.”

“That they do.”

“Lay the next one on me, Dr. Nerd.”

Scully gave Mulder a soft kick on the shin with the side of her foot. “When did you last cry in front of another person? By yourself?”

“Few weeks ago when you went to get cleaned up after…” He gestured to his chest. “Padgett.”

“That would be my answer for both parts of that question.”

“I don’t have a real hang-up about crying in front of people. I can’t really remember the last time, but I’m sure it was you.”

“Fair enough. 31. Tell your partner something that you like about them already. Oh come on, we’ve answered this about six times.”

“Skip it. Number 32. What, if anything, is too serious to be joked about?”

“Death of a child.”

“I was gonna say nothing is too serious, but I’m going to agree with you there.”

“Number 33. If you were to die this evening with no opportunity to communicate with anyone, what would you most regret not having told someone? Why haven't you told them yet?”

“Wow. Um…”

“Yeah, this one might be a little…”

“I think I need a minute.”

“Take your time.”

The first thing that came to Mulder’s mind was that he would tell Scully how much she meant to him, but it conjured up memories from his hallway and really he’d already said what he’d needed her to hear. He could reiterate it right here, right now, but it didn’t feel like the right time, to say it only because he was being prompted by a silly questionnaire. If she were a stranger, he would answer honestly, that he had communicated those things one time, he just wished it wasn’t one of those things they didn’t talk about. He chose a different option instead, one that was still truthful, but felt less necessary for him.

“I would want to tell my mother that I’m sorry I couldn’t do more for her,” he said. “Couldn’t find my sister and couldn’t make her happy. As to why I haven’t already told her, well there’s a big part of me that knows it isn’t my fault and that I’ve done everything I could.”

“It isn’t your fault. You have done everything you could, more than enough, Mulder.”

“Logically, yes, I know that. And I shouldn’t have to apologize for it, but I still feel compelled.”

Scully curled her hand over Mulder’s forearm and let it rest there for a few quiet moments. He gave her an appreciative smile and then put his hand over hers. He expected her to pull away, but she didn’t. They stayed like that until the loud scrape of a barstool across the floor broke the solace. He reached for his iced tea and she leaned back on her stool.

“I can’t answer the question,” Scully said, her voice almost at a whisper. “There are reasons that...I just can’t.”

Mulder shrugged. “You don’t need to explain it. It’s just a silly questionnaire.”

She looked down and plucked at the skin next to her thumbnail. “It’s not silly and I should...I lack the courage to...it’s because I lack courage that I can’t answer.”

“You can have half a point for answering the second part of the question.”

She looked up at him and there was pain in her eyes. He couldn’t tell if her anguish was from not being able to answer, or what she would answer if she could. He reached over and swept his hand up and down her back a few times.

“You’re the most courageous person I know,” he said. “That won’t change.”

“Yet I can’t even answer a simple question.”

“It’s not that simple. Let’s just do the next one, we’re almost done. Number 34. Your house, containing everything you own, catches fire. After saving your loved ones and pets, you have time to safely make a final dash to save any one item. What would it be and why?”

“I want you to know that I want to answer it, Mulder. I do.”

“Answer it when it’s the right time, Scully. You’re gonna be around a long time.”

In the silence that followed the deep and uncertain breath Scully took, Mulder changed the format of the questionnaire and just answered.

“Well, since it says I’ve already gotten my fish to safety,” he said. “I think I’d have to rescue my lamp.”

Scully cleared her throat. “Your lamp?”

“My Saturn lamp. My grandfather - my mother’s father, the only grandparent I ever met - got it for me when I was about four or five. It was my nightlight when I was a kid.”

“That’s adorable, Mulder.”

“I mean, I think the couch is pretty unreasonable and I can get a basketball anywhere.”

“No, it’s a good choice. I’d take a photo album I have that was given to me by my grandmother.”

“Mom’s side or dad’s side?”

“Dad’s.”

“Also pretty irreplaceable.”

“Yeah.”

“We went out of order, so go ahead with the next one.”

Scully hesitated when she turned the paper closer and there was a slight hitch in her breath. “I think we’ve already answered this as well,” she answered, and then pushed the paper over to Mulder.

“35. Of all the people in your family, whose death would you find most disturbing? Why? I guess in my case missing might as well be dead and even if your sister hadn’t-”

“I wasn’t going to answer with Melissa,” she interrupted. “It was awful, yes. It’s one of the worst things I’ve been through. But, it’s not the worst thing.”

Mulder puzzled over her answer for a moment and almost had to ask if she was referring to her father or mother, but it dawned on him suddenly and he pressed his lips together in a tight line. The death of a child is a very serious thing. He never really knew the true extent of her feelings about Emily because she wouldn’t share them, but he knew she was mired in silent grief for some time. There had been a real lack of joy in her in the months that followed, one he thought had never really returned.

“It never occurred to me,” Mulder said. “To think that…”

“I didn’t think it would. Actually, it didn’t occur to me either until just now.”

“I don’t think I ever told you how sorry I was.”

“It isn’t you who should be sorry. And you were right, it was never meant to be.”

“I shouldn’t have-”

“No. You were right. It doesn’t mean I didn’t want her, wouldn’t have gladly taken her, quit the FBI, moved to a tiny town somewhere in the hopes that no one could get to her, but the circumstances were what they were. Even if there was a way to treat her, the price would have been too great, I think, and it would’ve just been buying a piece of time. I’ve been trying to accept that as fact. Some days I can, some days I can’t.”

“Grief doesn’t really follow a strict timeline.”

“Sometimes I’m not even sure what I’m grieving; if it’s for her or the idea of her. The loss of what I don’t have.”

“Maybe it’s both. Do you want…”

“A child? I’m not even sure. I know I’m angry that the choice was taken away from me, but that doesn’t mean I’m ready to explore my options or if I’ll ever be. On the other hand, I can hear it ticking.”

“Are we talking about the proverbial biological clock here?”

“Tick. Tick. Tick. Sometimes faintly, sometimes loudly, reminding me that I’m not getting any younger.”

“Well, if you ever do decide to explore those options, I’ll help you in whatever way I can.”

Scully tipped her head and gazed at him sideways. “I’ll remember that,” she said. “If I ever reach a conclusion.”

Part of him felt this conversation was an opening to come clean about the full truth of her missing ova, but he wasn’t going to do that to her if she hadn’t even decided she wanted a child. He didn’t want to hurt her unnecessarily further if the verdict was still out. It was a burden he’d held for such a long time and he wasn’t keen on making it hers as well, even if it was technically her burden. He would rather carry that cross for her and never let her know he was carrying it if he didn’t have to.

“So,” she said, sitting up taller and shaking off the melancholy that had settled momentarily on her shoulders. “We went out of order again kind of. Go ahead with the last one.”

“Okay, final question. Share a personal problem and ask your partner's advice on how he or she might handle it. Also, ask your partner to reflect back to you how you seem to be feeling about the problem you have chosen.”

“Well, I can’t seem to get my laundry done when I need it because my partner is always keeping me out nights.”

“Send it out to a service. That’s what I do.”

She smiled. “Just give me a minute, I’ll think of something.”

“Maybe you’re lucky enough to be problem-free. Laundry aside.”

“The only pressing issue I can really think of is how to tell my brother I’d rather not visit for the 4th of July. He’s been sort of pestering me to come out, but if I decide to take a vacation this summer, I’d rather do something relaxing.”

“Like going to Maine?”

“Not Maine.”

“It’s Stephen King territory, Scully, you should’ve known you’d find a possessed doll up there the minute you set foot in the state.”

“Does that mean I’d have better or worse chances of an x-file finding me on a tiny island somewhere in the Caribbean.”

“That probably depends on how close to the Bermuda Triangle you plan to be. But, a tropical island? Really?”

“Might be nice to lay in a hammock and read a book or two.”

“You mean highlight your latest edition of JAMA.”

“At least I’d be on a beach while I’m at it.”

“Blame it on me. Even if you didn’t, I’m sure Bill would do it for you, so just give him the satisfaction of being right as you let him down easy.”

“I’m not gonna blame you to spare his feelings. You don’t deserve that.”

“I guess you can go with the truth then. Just tell him you need a break. You’re using up your days off for some much needed alone time.”

“That’s probably all I can do, but I know he won’t understand.”

“Then that’s his problem.”

“And now I’m supposed to ask you how I feel about this dilemma?”

“Still on the fence, I’d say. You’re gonna want more time to mull it over and probably put it off a bit longer.”

“Correct.”

“Here’s my problem. I want to ask my partner if she’d entertain the idea of coming into the office tomorrow morning, not all day or anything, just for a little while. But, I know she has all that laundry to do that she could send out, and curling up in the titillating world of JAMA, and I certainly don’t want to take that away from her.”

Scully groaned.

“See, big problem,” he said.

“I need more information. Why do you want your partner to come in tomorrow? What could you possibly want to do in the office on a Saturday when we don’t have something taking us out of town?”

“I ordered some Roswell newspaper volumes from archives about a month ago and they finally came in.”

“Newspapers. From Roswell.”

“The 1940s. Wouldn’t it be fun to peruse old-timey articles about mysterious lights in the sky and government cover-ups?”

Scully groaned again.

“Any advice for this problem of mine?”

“Yes. Don’t ask.”

“I hear it’s going to rain tomorrow.”

“So.”

“So she won’t be missing anything by staying indoors. What if I offered to buy her lunch?”

“Not good enough.”

“Breakfast?”

“Not listening.”

“Snacks from the vending machine every hour?”

“Your problem is going to wear a hole in your pocket.”

“Is now a good time to reflect on how I’m feeling?”

“There’s an air of desperation about you. You’re still wondering how best to wear me down, and you know it’s only a matter of time before I say yes, but you’ll still be wondering if I’ll show up until I walk in tomorrow morning.”

“Does that mean my problem is solved?”

“It means you’ll have to wait to find out until tomorrow morning.”

“I guess that’s better than nothing.”

“There’s something else on this paper.” Scully furrowed her brow and pushed the paper towards Mulder while keeping her fingers on it. “Instructions.”

“You’ve reached the end of the questions. The final task is to stare silently into your partner’s eyes for four minutes. It’s important to finish with this step. Some people have described this step as thrilling and terrifying. Good luck.”

“You’ve got to me kidding me.”

“We don’t have to.”

“You know I’m not going to leave something half-assed.”

“I just thought it was fun questions.”

Scully sighed and then downed the rest of her watery Diet Coke. She dropped the glass down on the bar with more force than necessary and turned on the stool to face Mulder.

“Got a timer on your watch?” she asked.

“I do.”

“Set it.”

He did as she asked and then laid his arm down on the bar so she could see it. She grabbed his wrist and after a glance, let him go and rested her arm in front of his, glancing her fingers off of his as she pulled away.

“Ready?” he asked.

“Go.”

Mulder only glanced down to start the timer and then he met her gaze. It was awkward at first, with her looking so defiant and both unaccustomed to really looking that purposefully at each other when they weren’t debating a casefile. Her face finally softened a bit and she gave a small tilt of her head as though she was trying to read something off of him. He hoped she couldn’t read his thoughts in that moment, that was for sure.

Just before she tilted her head, her eyelids dropped in a half-blink and then opened again and he saw in her what he felt like he was on the verge of really seeing in his hallway two years ago, but had tamped down. He envisioned himself rising from his stool, kicking it out of the way, taking her face in his hands, pushing his fingers through her hair, and kissing her for all he was worth, once and for all. He felt his lips part in anticipation, licked them closed, and swallowed.

Suddenly, Scully’s eyes turned glassy and she looked away, pulling back from him with a slight slump, but he reached out and touched her arm, laying his hand down over hers and she blinked back up at him. She looked terrified, but he dipped his head a little and tried to tell her it was alright by widening his eyes just a little and nodding. He understood. This was not a game. He wanted her to know he was sincere and grateful that she did this with him. He cherished her answers. He cherished that she listened. Above all, he simply cherished all of her.

Four minutes could feel like a lifetime. By the time Mulder’s watch went off, Scully looked a little less afraid, but she quickly averted her eyes again at the sound of the beep and pulled her hand out from under his. He didn’t turn away though, and blindly silenced his watch. She stared at the rows of alcohol above the back of the bar until he cleared his throat and swiveled forward in his seat.

“So, we should do this more often,” he said.

“Yeah,” she answered, with a slight scoff. She turned her head towards him though, smiled softly, and then looked down at her lap. “I did have a nice time.”

“I’m glad. Let me get the check and we’ll get out of here.”

He helped her into her coat after he’d paid and then slung his own over his shoulder. Twilight had set in and the streets were quiet. They stopped under a street lamp in front of her apartment, near her car. She crossed her arms over her chest and looked down at her feet for a few moments.

“Thank you for dinner,” she said.

“Don’t forget, my offer for breakfast, snacks, and lunch still stands.”

“It’s possible I won’t turn it down. It’s also possible I will.”

“I know, you’re always trying to keep me guessing.”

“Keeps you on your toes, doesn’t it?”

“Always.”

Scully smiled and he realized he’d seen her smile more tonight than he had in years. It looked good on her. On impulse, he leaned down and brushed his lips against her cheek, nearly catching the corner of her smile. Her eyes followed his retreat and the slight upturn of her lips was still in place.

“What was that for?” she asked.

“Just because. I’ll see you tomorrow. Or Monday.”

“What if I were to want something from the deli on 13th and E?”

“Done.”

“I’ll add it to the things to consider.”

Mulder turned and took a few steps on his tip-toes towards his car. He heard Scully chuckle and he gave her one last glance over his shoulder. He made a promise to himself in that moment to surprise her with something fun, something she’d least expect. He didn’t know what it was yet, but he’d think of something.

The End

#i wrote this #xf fanfic #mulder #scully #msr #ust #friendship #The Unnatural #pre-ep #don't read the study first if you don't want spoilers

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