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b3lz33bub · 8 months ago

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[warning: Enstars brainrot is back after a whole year, I still ramble like a nerd, spoilers for Raison d'être event story]

Valkyrie - Le temps des fleurs

*:･ﾟ✧ Lyrics, video and story analysis :*✧･ﾟ

(even if it's so obviously gay)

I have resurrected my enstars obsession and I found myself fated to dissect Valkyrie's intriguing songs once again, as it seems their relationship has progressed much since last time I had checked on them. This is one going to be elaborate since the song is heavily tied to the event story Raison d'être and to the stage performance which is filled with plenty of symbolism.

˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚ Relevant links ˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚

Lyrics translation by ForeverAsia

Raison d'être translation by Mika Enstars

Official MV

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ Title *:･ﾟ✧*:･

The title of the song, Le temps des fleurs, which translates to "The time of the flowers", could be a reference to the infamous french song from the late 60s with the same title. The original song sung by Dalida directly derives from a russian romance song and depicts the tale of a woman who misses her lover and commemorates the time when they were together, young and carefree.

This is important to note once we provide context from the event story.

*:･ﾟ✧* Raison d'être *:･ﾟ✧*

In the event Raison d'être, which translates to "reason for being", a common french expression, we discover Shu's grandfather wishes to hold a live funeral and turns its preparation into a competition between the other family members. He creates a rather elaborate scenario in order for Shu to uncover the truth about his youthful days in France. Shu's succesful deduction, with Mika's help, enables him to prepare an opera for the funeral.

But Valkyrie had decided to partially cover the truth from the rest of the family in the narration of the opera. Thus, the story birthed actually ends up as an allegory for the relationship Mika and Shu have. (That is why, I will refer to the characters in the story by whom they represent)

Shu, a foreign student in France, passed by a mansion covered in roses and sighted through the window Mademoiselle, whom he fell in love with. Each time he had seen her, he fell deeper and deeper, ending up entering the mansion, unable to contain his feelings.

To his dismay, the beautiful woman he had fallen in love with turned out to be just a life-sized doll.

But the story isn't simply just that. In the mansion was also, of course, a dollmaker, Mika, who had modelled Mademoiselle after his appearance in women's clothes. Deeply moved by Shu's devotion, who had been sending love letters and had been whispering his love in the night, Mika had fallen in love with him, only having been accustomed with the solitude of his own mansion up until then.

But since the discovery of Mademoiselle's true nature, Shu had fallen depressed. Mika decided to dress up in women's clothing and warmly recognise the man's feelings.

「 Je t'aime 」

"I love you"

Mika thought it would end up as a heartfelt, passing moment and their lives would fall back into monotony. But Shu's wishes had just become true — the woman he loved had loved him back.

Since then, he had visited the mansion time and time again. Everytime there was a knock at the door, Mika would hurringly put his women's clothes and makeup on.

This concludes the first act, a comedic tale about the tumultuous existance of a same-sex relationship in a time that wasn't very accepting of it. (As stated by Shu himself)

The second act is an epilogue of the events. Shu had gone back to Japan to fulfill the duties of his family, but promised himself he'd reunite with Mademoiselle. Years later, upon his return, the mansion of roses had decayed, the flowers withering. The only thing left was an inscription on the walls, written in red as if it were fresh blood:

「 Je t'aime 」

"I love you"

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Instictually, you'd think that the roles of the story should be reversed. Since Mademoiselle is an extension of Shu, and Mika is a devout follower of Shu as an artist, wouldn't it make more sense for Shu to be the dollmaker and for Mika to be the foreign student?

That is clarified by the diverse use of the pronoun "I" in japanese throughout the retelling of the story by Shu and Mika. When talking about the foreign student, they use "boku", the pronoun version Shu usually uses. The dollmaker, instead, uses "ore", the pronoun version Mika uses. With that in mind and a little thought put into it, you'd see the pieces falling into place.

The first act depicts the relationship Mika and Shu had up until that point. Shu had fallen in love with Mika, the marionette, but the events of Valkyrie made him realise Mika being a mere marionette in his eyes was inhumane — it wasn't real love, but a devout admiration. Mika, though, had proven himself, slow and steady, to be a real human with free-will, wishes and ambitions, in front of the person he loved — an equal. Thus, Shu could truly love the person he only dreamed of loving previously because love can only really bloom between two equals.

The second act depicts Shu's fears about their future. At the beginning of the event story, he reveals he had already prepared a room for Mika to live in Paris so they will continue their lives together. When Mika told him about wanting to remain in Japan after graduation to maintain Valkyrie , Shu spirals out of control, betrayed and fearful. In his eyes, Mika refused maintaining, or even strenghtening, their relationship. In the opera, that is what Shu imagines would happen if they remain separated; one day, Shu would not find Mika waiting for him, having dissapeared from his life, their love withering.

Unlike the opera, we will discover the song, Le temps des fleurs, "ties the knot" of their thread of troubles and feelings.

*:･ﾟ✧* Lyrics & MV *:･ﾟ✧*

[Shu] - pink

[Mika] - green

[Shu and Mika] - blue

In the stage background is depicted the Eiffel Tower to represent where the story takes place, in Paris. This coincides with the city where Mika and Shu sort out their feeling about their future.

Mistakably compared to a marionette, those blue eyes seem vacant

As this foreign romance spun with a stranger begins to close

Wayfaring through an illusion, traversing on streets of stone

Wandering, endlessly, like melting wax dripping in diurnal rhythms

The two commemorate the circumstances of their early relationship, Shu mistaking Mika, a masterful artist, for a mere marionette, leading to a temporary love that couldn't truly exist this way, that melts with each passing day under the sun rays.

The night burns into the dawn, and the heart that yearns without reward

Has long since overlapped

Even if it’s the same as the breeze, that blows through in its flurry of gales

Even if Shu finds out the truth, that love for a doll can't be truly love, he still holds onto it despite all the misfortunes that have come his way, mainly the rough days of Valkyrie. His love for Mika was a "breeze", a gentle wind, in the midst the despair reminiscent of a "flurry of gales", a circular mass of strong winds that entrapped him.

In the MV, during this part, Shu and Mika hold hands and sway together as they sing. It is a crucial moment since (from my knowledge so correct me if I'm wrong) Mika and Shu haven't made such heartfelt gestures on stage before. It highlights how the songs have gradually become more concentrated on themselves, rather than Valkyrie talking to the audience like in the past.

O city of flowers, this love too can bloom, even on the wayside.

It shall remain as a single song

Sear that gorgeous splendor onto each other’s hearts

As this beloved shadowed silhouette[1]

Turns this into a phantasm tale

From the story of the opera written by the two, we can conclude that flowers represent love. Paris, the city of flowers in this case, is also the city of romance.

Even if their feelings seemed impossible of becoming reality because of the rather troubled beginning of their relationship, their strenght had led the two to believe it is possible to achieve, "even on the wayside". They would even accept it even if it were just a passing moment, "a single song", as long as it was real and satiatied their desires by "searing that gorgeous splendor on each other's hearts". When the moment of love would cease to exist, if it ever does, they believe it will be immortalized in their memory as a "phantasm tale", thus having no regret ever experiencing it.

During this moment, the MV background switches to the Temple of Love on the grounds of the Palace of Versailles. The choreography in front of this place dedicated to the women "loved" by the french royalty[2] is also very suggestive of the ignition of romantic feelings. Mika and Shu reach out their arms to each other's hearts as the camera focuses on their shared gazes during the moment. Not long after, the camera focuses on their hands as they join together in front of the Temple of Love, signifying their romantic union.

[1] The original translation on the fan wiki says "silhouettier", which is a word I couldn't find on any online dictionaries. I will assume they meant "silhouette", like other translations.

[2] The factuality of that statement could be debatable, but I am no expert in the matter, nor is it the focus of my point.

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[The following segment isn't in the MV so it will be delimited with red.]

Even if we cling onto such ridiculous prayers

The feeling of hopelessness will never disappear, will it?

In that case, let’s leave the meaning of our encounter behind

As we change the regalia belonging to coincidence and fate

In this verse, they seem to be voicing each other's perception of their new relationship.

Shu is still on the edge about their future, as seen especially at the beginning of the event story. Despite both of them having shared such devotion for each other, he cannot help but feel hopeless that it would all end at any step.

Mika recognizes this and keeps looking forward, wanting Shu to adopt the same way of thinking. He has also been the first push that had led to the rehabilitation of Valkyrie, with the help of his faith in his mentor and the love he harbors for him. In this verse, it is also suggested that Shu isn't quite over their relationship during the ex-Valkyrie, thus the source of his hopelessness. It is also evident in the event story when he keeps mentioning Mika had become a human, probably fearful they would regress to their past dynamic.

Some things are unforgivable

Rather than grieving over those sins

Shall we dance the night away instead?

As I reach out my hand to you

And for you to look back at me

They seem to accept their irredeamable past that had led them to the present moment. If it meant reaching that point where they could share their love, "dance the night away", reach out their hands and look back at each other, it was worth it.

Is it possible to worry about the destination of an endless dream?

Even if it’s something that is not finite in nature

Let’s keep it forever, the shine that lasts only in this world

As we are sought and lured by each other

While having our souls turn into a phantasm tale

Unlike the love for a marionette that would melt with each passing day, this love, the love of an equal, is an "endless dream" and "not finite in nature". This current love that they share is more important that their "destination", meaning that they shouldn't worry about the future, which they did at the beginning of the event story, since their love would triumph even against time. This act of being "lured by each other" is compassionate enough to not just dissapear, get immortalized in their memory as in the first chorus, but instead the devotion for each other would be the one to immortalize them as lovers of a "phantasm tale".

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Before the bridge commences, the background of the MV becomes pure white, turning Mika and Shu into mere silhouettes. The atmosphere is heavy. When they try to reach out for each other, they miss each other's embrace, unable to look back at one another. This could represent the moments when they feel lost during their relationship, an example being the opening scene of the event story.

Even if it’s worn and arenaceous

If you lift its casing, its contents will overflow

So even if time is bound, the shades and chromes will still remain

Painting the future in a blinding iridescence

Each verse of the first three is split in half between the two, representing a separation, but proving that, despite the circustances, they share the same feelings about their relationship.

Even if their love is "worn and arenaceous", almost on the brink of dying, "if you lift its casing", its coffin's lid , it will prove to be as strong as ever, "overflowing". Even if their love will die out, its impact will leave an imprint on their lives.

In the final verse, their voices join and their gazes meet. The conclusion is that, no matter the outcome, their love would brighten their future with "a blinding iridescence". Stripping themselves of the worries about both past and future, by embracing the present moment of their love, they have freed themselves.

In the background, the Arch of Triumph is revealed and the stage is filled with blooming flowers, a symbol of their love as established earlier. Then, the second[1] chorus begins.

[1] It is the third chorus if we talk about the entire song. But since this chorus mirrors the first one, it would be more suggestive to call it the second one, like it is in the MV.

O city of flowers, the entire town itself is wrapped in your love

Even the days that passes on by has bloomed and scattered

Let this continue to reverberate forevermore inside each other’s hearts

As this beloved shadowed silhouette

Manifests for this very reason to make you dance

Alongside this song of love, this song of love

The choreography is the same as the one in front of the Temple of Love. If the first time it was about the reciprocity of their feelings that had no clear duration, this time it is the confidence that they are eternal. Mika and Shu are victorious in their love's battle against time and, once again, can reach out for their hearts, look back at each other and join hands.

The final statement is made as their love is finally triumphant over all the hardships Valkyrie had to endure. Their love is so radient, "the entire town itself is wrapped" in it. Even if these moments of love, which have bloomed, would "scatter" in the past, they believe their feelings would keep "reverberating forevermore inside each other's hearts". The song ends with the acknowledgement of its true nature, it being a "song of love".

The MV ends with Mika and Shu looking into each other's eyes, arms ready to reach one another, but far enough to not yet be touching each other — for it is only the first step in their true relationship. The camera pans to Shu's face who, usually, doesn't allow for his affectionate side to surface easily, lovingly looking at Mika.

On a final note, it is really important to mention the outfits. There could be many interpretations for the split appearance of them: funeral and marriage, shadow and light, masculinity and femininity. Either way it may be, the outfits themselves represent union. If in the past, for example in "Eternal Weaving", Mika and Shu were distinguished by a certain symbol, like shadow and light, through their love, they have attained balance. It is both a funeral and a celebration of love. The clothes are the recognition that the lovers are both composed of light and shadow and that they complete one another. They are a symbol about appearance and essence, where one half is seen by the world (Shu in a tuxedo, strong and independent; Mika in a dress, soft and innocent) and the other only by the lovers (Shu in a dress beause he is quite emotional and compassionate; Mika in a tuxedo because he is strong-willed and would do anything for their hapiness together).

In the silence that follows, we can only have faith their love would prevail over anything in their way of looking into each other's longing eyes.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ

Thank you for bearing with me! I am so crazed by their love story I had to go all out. I don't think straight romance has achieved this kind of depth yet, I am afraid. (Don't try to prove me wrong, I am right).

#ensemble stars #enstars #ensemble stars music #rhythm game #ensemble stars valkyrie #valkyrie enstars #shu itsuki #mika kagehira #shumika #music #music analysis #lyric analysis #lyric interpretation #lgbtq #gay gay homosexual gay #utter rambling

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corrodedseraphine · 2 years ago

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alone together | one shot

pairing: eddie munson x fem!reader

summary: When nightmares and lack of sleep become too overwhelming for you you try to find solutions in weed. It turns out that the day you turned to Eddie Munson for help, the deal you made involved much more than that. angst/fluff, stragners to friends to lovers

10 337 words (including alternative ending)

TW: mentions of death, nightmares, weed use, mentions of an accident

the one shot is also avaliable on ao3

I got inspired while listening to Alone Together by Fall Out Boy

In this story I wrote two endings, the alternative ending can be found as a link in the story, also the very last part is an extra, you don't have to read it if you don't want to, I just decided that reader kinda deserves this kind of It's finally here!

Big big big shout out and many thanks to my friend @i-me-mine for wearing shining armor and figting with the insecurity dragon in my head like a pro, I wouldn't finish this story if not her support and advice ♥

eddie munson masterlist | general masterlist

Darkness and sudden blinding brightness ran through your head alternately. A deafening bang and then Steve And Robin carrying you out of the mall. Where is he? Joyce is running. She is running terrified toward Will and Jonathan. After making sure her boys are safe she sees you. She runs up all crying repeating over and over how sorry she is and hugs you tightly. Still dazed you don't know what's going on. Where is he? You look at the despair in Joyce's eyes, your senses slowly returning to you and with them the ability to understand what is happening and why she might be sorry. You jerk out of her embrace, your legs trembling but running ahead towards the gallery entrance. You stumble over the untied laces in your shoes, then you fall for the first time. Joyce is at your side again, asking you not to go back there, but you don't listen to her. Once again you tear yourself away from her and run on, calling out to him, hoping that he will come out soon, safe and sound, but nothing happens. You are already at the door when you feel Steve and Jonathan pulling you aside with all their strength. They are stronger than Joyce. You can't get away from them so you scream even more. You beg them to let you go but they don't listen to you. With all your strength you try to escape them, kicking, screaming, choking on your own tears but they won't let go. Steve pulls you to him even tighter and you drop your strength letting him hide you in his arms tightening your fists on his Scoops Ahoy uniform. From afar you hear the sirens of police cars and ambulances, when they arrive on the scene and approach the three of you, you repeat over and over that he is inside there, that they need to save him, that he needs help. A group of firefighters goes inside. Time begins to pass a million times slower, an eternity passes before one of them comes out saying that there is not a living soul inside. This is impossible. Feeling you trying to break free again, Steve squeezes you even harder.

The nightmare of memories of that night comes back to you several times a week. It has been months since the final battle with the mind flyer and the Russians, and yet although the wounds on your body look healed, the mental ones seem to grow deeper by the day. Nightmares, pain and longing are devastating you from the inside. You can't remember the last time you slept a full night, the last time you didn't wake up feeling exhausted.

Plunged into your thoughts, you sat next to Robin on the benches in front of the school watching Eddie Munson and a boy you don't recognize disappear into the woods, the place where he handles all his not necessarily legal business. Then an idea popped into your head. You sprang to your feet and told your friend that you need to do something urgently. As you reached the picnic table you see the boy closing the metal box and about to go back to school. In the distance you hear the bell ringing to signify the end of break.

"Eddie!" you shout, not wanting to miss your chance.

The metalhead turns around at the sound of your voice. Of course he recognizes you. From the very beginning of school you've attracted his attention. From the very beginning he has been fighting a dangerous fascination with you. He never thought in his life that his name would come out of your mouth, so he turns puzzled in your direction and what he sees begins to worry him. Your pale face and the shadows under your eyes speak for themselves. Ever since the starcout fire in which your father died, you have been languishing. You were less and less every day, which he understood perfectly, but he couldn't help but want to approach you and offer any kind of support. Your situation was already so awful that he quickly gave up the idea because he claimed that if the rest of the school saw you in the company of The Freak it would make everything even worse. Now that you were standing in front of him he had two choices. Ignore you for your own good or stay.

"Hey," he said, smiling. "What's up?"

"How much weed can I buy for this?" you asked, pulling a few bills out of your pocket.

He knew he shouldn't pry. He knew he should never pry into the reasons why people turn to him for drugs, but, damn, after all, you��weren't some ordinary customer. "Are you okay?" he asked, approaching slowly. "Have you ever smoked it?"

"No, but I've heard it makes you calmer. I need it Eddie, please." Your desperation was evident at first glance.

"Let's make a deal, okay?" he said sitting back down at the picnic table and opened the container. Later he patted the seat next to him indicating for you to sit on it. When you were next to him he began to speak further. "You tell me what's going on, and you'll get your first dose for free," he said.

"I can pay you, you can't just give it to me." you muttered.

"'kay, then another way... I won't sell you anything until you tell me why you need it." Nervously, you stared dully into the tree in front of you. You didn't know what, but there was something about him that made you feel safe. Your heart told you that you could trust him, but your brain screamed that confiding in a drug dealer might be a bad idea. Then you looked at him. Big chocolate eyes full of warmth kept their gaze on you.

"I really don't want to hurt you y/n." he said with concern. "I know you might have heard different things about me, but I have to worry you, most of them are not true." he laughed lightly.

"I'm not afraid of you Eddie..." you said quickly. "I'm just not sure I'm ready to talk about all this." You lowered your gaze locating it on your hands.

"Is it about your dad?" he asked quietly.

"Have you ever had nightmares?" you asked without raising your eyes. You didn't want him to see the tears in your eyes. You didn't want him to see what a mess you were in.

"It happens, usually when I watch too many horror movies, then I dream about Michael Myers chasing me all over Hawkins, and because I avoid PE like a fire I don't even have the energy to run away." he tried to make a joke to lighten the situation, but seeing that they were a bit out of the mood for jokes he stopped right away. "Sorry..."

" 's okay"

"Y/n look at me, please." When you raised your eyes he frowned. He had never had the chance to look at you from such a close distance. And now that your glazed eyes were looking at him he couldn't get out of admiration of how beautiful they looked. The tears added to their shine. However, he quickly chased these thoughts aside. He will be in awe of you later, because this situation will definitely not leave his thoughts for a very long time.

"That night..." you began, breathing deeper and deeper. "At Starcourt. It comes back almost every night. I relive it all over again, every time I close my eyes I see everything all too clearly." You hid your face in your hands ashamed of how your tears began to get out of control. In truth, you didn't want to break down in front of him, but day by day you had less and less strength to somehow keep yourself grounded. "I heard that it helps to calm down...I thought that if I calm down I will finally be able to sleep normally, I can't remember the last time I slept through the night, I'm so damn tired, Eddie, so damn tired..."

Then he decided to take a chance. He expected many things. Most of all that you would get up and start yelling at him that he should stay away from you, that what was he thinking. What he didn't expect, however, was that when he embraced you you immediately leaned toward him cuddling your face into his chest. Robin hugged you many times. Steve hugged you many times. Jonathan hugged you many times before they left for California. However, none of this equaled the feeling you got when Eddie hugged you. Seeing your silent permission he pulled you closer to him and began stroking your back. When your sobs subsided he still embraced you with one hand, and with the other he opened the box taking out a small sachet and handed it to you stopping his hand on yours a moment longer than he should have. As you began to pull the money from your pocket he half-stopped you saying it was a special offer for the first deal, but you put them in his jacket pocket with a quick motion.

"Can you show me how to do it?" you asked staring at the object in your hand.

He knew it was completely out of place but he couldn't hold back a soft chuckle when he heard the question. As you embarrassedly began to move away from him and stood up from the bench heading in the opposite direction from the school.

"y/n!" he called out standing up quickly. "I don't know where you're going, but do you have room for one more troubled soul?" He didn't know how many months he had spent wondering what it would be like if he could talk to you, spend some time with you. He didn't know how long he had been trying to get rid of his hopeless fixation on you, but nothing was working. While chastising himself in his mind for taking advantage of such a delicate situation, he knew he had to give it a shot, as it might be the only opportunity he would get. "Since this will be your first time with this kind of thing I could be with you then, y'know, just in case..."

"I'm not in the mood for jokes Eddie..."

"I know and I'm sorry! But I promise not to make a single hopeless and stupid joke again!" You could have just ignored him at that moment, but something inside prevented you from doing so. Some strange attraction and the need to feel again as you did the first time he hugged you wouldn't let you just walk away. You wanted his company, you wanted him to be close.

"I don't know where I'm going..." was all you answered.

"We can go to my place." he suggested, and you agreed.

When the last bell rang for today you left the school heading towards the parking lot. Right next to you walked Robin. When you told her that you wouldn't be going home with her and Steve today she insisted that she needed to "explore the area."

"Hey Munson!" she called out walking up to the van he was standing by.

"Hi?" he said surprised as she measured him from head to toe.

"I just wanted to see for who my best friend was ditching me today, and you have my blessing. You two have fun!" she exclaimed, hugged you goodbye and disappeared.

"Sorry about her." you said quickly. "I don't have a lot of friends here besides her and Steve, so she was a little surprised when I told her I was coming back with you today."

"Understandable." He nodded thoughtfully. Did that mean you now treated him as a friend?

"Anyway, my presence in your company has been approved, so shall we?" he smiled charmingly, opening the door for you like a true gentleman. You ignored the fact that your heart skipped a beat when you noticed the dimples in his cheeks.

It wasn't until you pulled into the Forest Hills Trailer Park that Eddie's excitement turned to concern. He didn't hide where he lived but he realized that his place of residence was one of the reasons he was being laughed at. He hesitantly looked in your direction and noticed that you were looking at him. When your gazes met you smiled slightly and got out of the car. Was he hallucinating or did you blush for that brief moment?

"Welcome to my kingdom," he said letting you into the trailer. You looked around with curious eyes.

"Wow, that's huge." you said when a collection of caps and mugs caught your attention.

"My uncle is crazy about them, whenever he is in some new place he has to bring back at least one cap and mug from it." he laughed.

"This is so cool!" you said. "My dad used to do the same thing with lighters. At home we have a lighter from every possible state." After a while, only sadness got to you, reminding you of the real reason for this visit.

"So, are you ready?" he asked seeing your face slowly fade.

When you entered his room, for the first time in his life he regretted that he had not cleaned up. The room was in chaos, but you didn't seem to care. When you sat down on the bed, step by step he showed you how to roll a joint and you fired it up. The first few gushes made you cough, but eventually it calmed down. Feeling the stress caused by this meeting drain out of you, you began to feel more and more comfortable.

"How are you feelin?" he asked with a grin.

"Good I guess," you shrugged your shoulders. "Thank you for inviting me here," you said.

"Believe me, the pleasure is definitely on my side." his smile was now much wider.

"I like your smile a lot," you giggled, feeling increasingly relaxed and funny.

Normally he would have said it was some strange weed-induced hallucination, but this time he was completely sober. The situation seemed so surreal that he pinched his arm to make sure it wasn't a dream. "That's a good thing, because I really like yours." he finally replied.

"Will you tell me more about this game?" you asked changing the subject. When he noticed the small figure in your hand he had to think for a moment. You didn't seem to be one of those people who would suspect him of worshipping Satan through a board game, but somewhere deep down he still felt insecure. "My friends play it too, but somehow I never got into it," you said.

"Do you really want to hear about it?"

"Yeah, if you feel like it."

Needing no further encouragement, he began to explain to you what it was all about. Later the topic descended to the campaigns he was involved in, and you absorbed every word he said. He was an amazing storyteller, and you were happy to be drawn into his adventures forgetting everything else.

"This really seems like fun." you said leaning against the wall taking one last inhale. "What if I told you that Demogorgons exist?" the words slipped out of your mouth before you had time to think them through.

"Part of me would think it was pretty sick and metal but the other part would go insane of fear." he laughed. You wanted to reply however you were overtaken by the loud sound of your stomach burping.

"Shit, sorry." you said embarrassed.

"How about some pizza? A pretty girl shoved some cash in my pocket today, she stubbornly refused to take advantage of my special offer." He winked at you while standing up.

"Apparently she appreciates your work." you said back.

Thus, the evening passed exceptionally quickly for you in Eddie's company. You ate pizza, and in the meantime he told you about his ideas for new campaigns. When at some point he left and went to the bathroom you were left alone in silence. Suddenly his bed began to seem a little too comfortable for you. You lay down for a while inhaling his scent from the soft pillow. Without even realizing it, you fell asleep with peace of mind.

When he returned to the room and saw you lying snuggled into his pillow he stood up as if he were stunned. It must be a dream. It must be the most beautiful dream of his entire life. Still unmoving from his spot he wondered if he should wake you up or let you sleep on. After all, that's what this was all about, right? That you would finally get some sleep. Selfishly, he allowed himself to enjoy your presence for as long as possible. Pulling an old blanket from the closet and taking a pillow from the living room couch, he made himself a makeshift bed on the floor next to the bed. He nervously wriggled and were sitting up from time to time reassuring himself that all this was not a product of his imagination and what was happening was true. You were there. You were sleeping peacefully in his bed. At the very thought that you felt safe enough to do so he had the feeling that his heart would explode.

It was reaching nine in the morning when you woke up. For the first time in a long time you were well rested. Slowly opening your eyes and lazily stretching, you noticed that you were wearing yesterday's clothes. Later you remembered that the bed you were lying in did not belong to you at all.

"Shit!" you cussed quietly, jumping off quickly.

"What happened?" asked an alarmed Eddie from the floor.

"I am so sorry!" you began. "I don't even know when I fell asleep!"

"Hey, it's fine, chill." tried to calm you down.

"Did you sleep on the floor?"

"Apparently it's good for your back" He smiled broadly. "So, we achieved the goal?"

"No nigthmares, and I haven't felt so rested in a long time." You said calming down slightly.

"I'm glad I could help."

"I should go now, Robin must have lost her mind by now that I missed the first lesson."

"Yeah, okay." He didn't want you to go, but nothing was coming to mind that he could stop you with. "My uncle- he uh, he's just sleeping on the couch in the living room, poor guys work night shifts so we have to be quiet."

You tiptoed out of the room and quickly put on your shoes, then left the trailer, and Eddie gently closed the door behind you.

"I'm sorry again," you expressed, standing in front of him.

"You really have nothing to apologize for." he said, sitting down on the stairs. "I spent a very nice evening." There was that smile again. What was going on with you? His presence made you nervous, but it wasn't the nerves you were used to in recent times. This was something new, something that made you want even more Eddie Munson in your life.

"Me too, but I made you sleep on the floor, it feels bad." you sighed.

"And I feel great." he lied. The truth was that the pain in his neck after that night was killing him, but it was definitely worth.

"Thank you Eddie. For everything."

"At your service, m'lady. Shall I give you a ride home?"

"No, no need." Then, with an uncertain step, you approached the stairs and bent down to hug him. "You don't even know how much you've helped me." you muttered into his neck. Stepping back, you waved goodbye to him and headed for home.

Looking at your receding silhouette, he recalled with disbelief everything that had happened since you ran up to him in the woods. That day he came to one more conclusion. Eddie Munson was in love with you and this time he had no intention of denying it.

Full of hope in the middle of the night you did everything as Eddie showed you, unfortunately your sleep did not last long. Woken up by the same nightmare as always since four o'clock, you didn't sleep a wink. On Thursday you fell asleep and woke up every two hours or so. You didn't understand anything. After all, everything had worked the first time.

When Eddie heard a knock on the door on Friday night, not knowing who it might be, he didn't open it at first. He was too busy thinking what to do to get the courage to do more than smile at you in the hallway. Many times seeing you somewhere he felt like coming up and talking to you but always halfway through he gave up and changed direction. What if you didn't want to be seen in his company? What if that evening meant nothing? And he would never have the chance to spend time with you again? But you had to run out of pot at some point, and then you would come for more, right? Seeing your overtired face at school and blackened eyes, he was beginning to doubt if you were even using it. All the what ifs stuck in his head were definitely holding him back.

The knocking on the door was getting more and more overbearing, adding to his irritation.

"Jesus H Christ, WHAT?!" he shouted annoyed opening the door immediately regretting it. You stood in the doorway shocked by his reaction. You glared at him with wide hard eyes, noticing that he immediately softened at the sight of you, but you still couldn't get a word out. Thinking that coming here was a mistake you began to back away slowly.

"I- I'm sorry, I didn't mean to disturb you." you muttered.

"Wait, please!" he stopped you by grabbing your wrist. "I didn't mean to shout, I just had a shitty day today wasn't expecting anyone..." he began to explain.

"Sorry, I'll just go." you interrupted him.

"No, come in, please." he said quickly. He hoped you didn't notice how desperate he felt for you not to leave. "We can be alone together, right?"

"I just... I don't understand. I did everything as you showed me and it still didn't help. It's like it stopped working...Maybe I need something stronger?" you said stepping into the trailer.

"Woah! not so fast, okay? Come on, we'll try again, if that doesn't help, we'll think about another solution."

"But..." You weren't convinced, your desperation to finally start sleeping normally without nightmarish memories recurring in your dreams was pushing you very far.

"Please, let's just try." He really cared about helping you, but he knew that something stronger instead of solving the situation could only make it worse, and he definitely didn't want to be responsible for that.

You sat down more comfortably on his bed this time sharing a joint in half. One puff for you, the other for him. The first few minutes passed in silence between you.

"What, do I have something on my face?" you asked when you noticed him looking at you.

"Yes, tiredness." he said with a wince.

"Really? I didn't notice." You rolled your eyes.

"In that case, you're welcome." He winked at you.

"Thank you, you're a great friend!" you laughed throwing a pillow at him. Being with him was easy for you. In his presence you forgot all your worries, he was like a lifebelt when you were drowning in your nightmares and fatigue.

"Are we friends?" he asked raising his eyebrows.

"I mean... I would like to be your friend, I know we haven't known each other very long, but I really like you Eddie." You said confused not knowing how to read his reaction.

"It will be an honor for me." He nodded handing you the joint.

"So, firend, what do you usually do when you can't sleep?"

"I don't have much trouble sleeping, but I remember that when my mother died I was in a similar situation as you."

"Oh, I am so sorry, I didn't know..."

"It's fine." he waved his hand. "I remember at the time I was unlikely to have nightmares, but there were nights when I couldn't sleep at all. Then Wayne would come to my rescue and read me books until I fell asleep."

"Sounds nice." You smiled slightly. "When I was little my dad always told me bedtime stories. He always preferred to make up something himself rather than read." your heart contracted at the mere mention. You could still hear his voice in your thoughts. "Now all I can do is read to myself." you sighed.

"What about your friends?"

"All of them... have moved on. They are there for me when I need them, I know they care about me, but they are starting to put their lives back together after all that has happened. I know that if I just asked them in the middle of the night they would come to me without hesitation, but I don't want to be a burden. I don't want to disturb them. Just because I didn't move on it doesn't mean they have to, too." Tears came to your eyes. You had just considered each other firends and here you were already pouring your heart out in front of him.

"You don't feel like a burden now do you?" he asked as if reading your mind. Embarrassed you just lowered your head and drowned your gaze in your hands. "Y/n look at me." he asked. "Please don't feel that way."

"I'm sorry." You mumbled.

"You're more than welcome here y/n, trust me." he moved closer to you. "I had a shitty day today, but you being here made me have a really good evening, y'know?" He smiled slightly. "And damn, today I gained a new friend! What could be better?" His smile was contagious, and seeing that, he continued. "As your new friend, I want to offer some help." He grabbed a book lying on the bedside table. "But maybe you want to change first? I mean not the way you are thinking, Jesus- I mean sleeping in jeans can't be very comfortable, I can get you something to change into," he began to explain and turned towards the cabinet looking through his clothes. Luckily he was standing with his back to you so you couldn't see his burning cheeks. When he handed you some clothes, you thanked him and disappeared into the bathroom. When you returned his heart froze. He didn't expect the sight of you in his clothes to be so overwhelming. His old gym shorts fit you perfectly emphasizing your curves. The old T-shirt with the Metallica logo was a bit too big, but the whole thing made for a really beautiful view. A view that made him hot. He pushed all thoughts aside focusing on his task.

"Lie back and get comfortable, I would like to invite you to go on an amazing adventure with me."

"I don't want you to sleep on the floor again because of me, Eddie."

"I will be fine, promise."

"Maybe...we can share the bed? It's big enough for both of us, friends can sleep in the same bed and it won't be weird, right?" even though your voice was quiet in his head it sounded like the world's loudest bell.

"S-sure." he replied. With each meeting you surprised him more and more with how willingly you allowed him to be close to you. When most people rather avoided him like a plague you circled around coming closer with every step.

Reading Eddie in truth took you on an adventure. The Hobbit absorbed you to the point that instead of falling asleep you listened avidly to the continuation, constantly asking Eddie for one more chapter. His voice enchanted you, you felt like you were being transported to a completely different dimension. One in which only the two of you existed. You didn't know when you found yourselves so close to each other.

"Eddie?"

"Yeah?" he looked away from the book. He looked beautiful. How could you not notice before how handsome he was? Mesmerized with the veiw you forgot what you wanted to say. Why did his lips suddenly look so kissable? "y/n?" he asked seeing the lack of response on your part.

"Yeah?" you shrugged.

"Did you want to say something?" he chuckled.

"Oh, yes I um-" you began to stammer. "Thank you." that was the first thing that came to mind.

"That you didn't leave me alone with all this."

"I was serious when I said we could be alone together."

"I'm glad to have a friend like you Eddie." you laughed quietly charmed by his words.

You went back to reading. You made it through the next two chapters when finally your exhaustion won out. As you listened to his words slowly begin to blend together you drifted off.

That night there was no trace of the nightmares. Instead, you dreamed of green hills, and gardens among them. At one of them was working a contented Dustin who was much shorter than usual. Walking further you heard the sound of a guitar, intrigued you entered the house placed in the hill. There you were greeted by Eddie with a broad smile that you were beginning to adore.

"Hello m'lady." he said putting down his guitar. "Are you ready for an adventure?" he extended his hand toward you, and without hesitation you grabbed it. Feeling happiness and excitement fill your soul you knew you would have followed him to the end of the world.

The tranquility of your dream didn't seem to be shared by Eddie. This time he was the one who didn't sleep a wink all night. His initial delight at the fact that the girl he had long dreamed of felt safe enough with him to just sleep in his bed was gradually overshadowed by anxiety. Eddie was never one of the optimists, so all the dark scenarios easily possessed his mind without letting him fall asleep.

As the sun began to rise over Hawkins Wayne found his nephew on the steps in front of the trailer. His face was worried and his leg was shaking nervously.

"What's wrong, boy?" he asked, sitting down next to him.

"Can you promise me you won't freak out?" Eddie asked in a slightly trembling voice.

"I'll do my best.""Do you remember Hopper?"

"Of course I do, we were buddies back in high school," Wayne responded.

"His daughter is sleeping in my bed now." Seeing the surprise on his uncle's face, he continued before his thoughts moved in the wrong direction. "It's not what you think! She came to me for weed. Yes, I know you don't approve of what I'm doing, but we're not talking about it now..." he explained step by step how the development of your relationship looked. He admitted that that day you also slept at their place, and then for the next few days nothing helped. Now, once again being in bed with him, you had no trouble falling asleep. "I don't understand it, why does it only work when she's here? What if she will think that I am giving her something else? That I'm intentionally drugging her with something? Jesus, Wayne what if she thinks I want to gain her trust just to hurt her?"

"Slow down a bit son! First of all you are overthinking, and second of all I think you've watched too many movies."

"But-"

"If I were you, I would think about whether weed is actually the solution in this situation. It seems to me that something else might be her calming factor." the man smiled slightly as he saw how his nephew still couldn't comprehend it. "That poor girl is alone every night in an empty house that reminds her of her father's death, no wonder she can't fall asleep there," he said.

"She said she still has nightmares about that night..."

"What time did she fall asleep?" asked Wayne looking at his watch.

"Uh, I don't know, around eleven?"

"So she's been sleeping for about eight hours now without nightmares or awakenings. As a serious parent, I should give you a pep talk and a scolding about bringing girls home at night." he laughed. "But our family has never been normal, so I guess I need to make you aware that you're probably the one calming her down, my boy."

"What?" That was impossible. Or was it?

"You heard me. Now come inside." he patted the boy on the back. "Eddie?" he whispered as the younger Munson headed back into the room. Metalhead turned around with a questioning look. "Make sure he stays for breakfast, or lunch, whatever is ready when you get up."

When he returned to the room he found you sitting on the bed.

"Hey are you okay?" he asked sitting down next to you.

"Yeah, but still probably a little tired." you yawned. "Are you okay? You look worried."

"You know I want to help you right?" he asked quietly.

"I know, and I'm very grateful to you for that." You placed your hand on his. "I've always thought you were a good person. I know that everything others say about you is nonsense. Believe me." You sent him a reassuring smile.

"Do you want to sleep for a little while longer?" he asked smiling back.

"Sounds great."

Once again, you fell asleep without the slightest problem in no time. Eddie, wondering about his uncle's theory, also finally gave in to tiredness. He also thought that seeing you as the last thing before sleeping was like winning the lottery.

Days slowly turned into weeks, breakfasts into lunches and lunches into dinners, and you became a regular visitor in the Munson's trailer. Wayne as well as Eddie very quickly adopted you into their warm and family home. When you weren't spending time at school or with Robin and Steve the only place you could be found was at the Forest Hill Trailer Park. You spent very little time in your house and when you did it was mostly talking to Joyce and the rest of the family about how they were living in California. You missed them terribly, but you didn't want to move to them despite the many times they convinced you to do so.

Your friendship with Eddie was developing at a deadly fast speed and the boundary between you was blurring just as fast. So was the distance between you shrinking in every way. The closer you got to knowing him, the deeper you fell into the hole. He was there for you whenever you needed him. He always listened with patience to what you had to say, offered a shoulder when you needed to cry, and immediately afterwards, as if by magic, he made you laugh and made the sun shine in the sky again. He was more than happy to let you in closer, telling you about his childhood, how he ended up at Hawkins, trusting you like he had never trusted anyone before, revealing his darkest corners to you, and when, in a gesture of comfort, your hand touched his or he felt your arms wrap around his waist he felt something entirely new. He felt peacefulness. He was used to being alone, and knowing that you were now alone together brought with it a significant improvement in his life. Until now, he hadn't cared much about his own fate, but your presence made him realize that he was capable of so much more. With your support, he felt as if he was actually able to reach the stars. You have always held a special place in his thoughts, while he was convinced that you were just a silly high school crush, but now you have made a warm nest in his heart. Little did he know that in the meantime he had also found a way into your heart and for that moment he was already knocking on his door.

You were sitting with Robin on the benches in front of the school when you noticed a familiar silhouette approaching in your direction

"Hey!" he greeted you. "You left this at my place yesterday, good thing Wayne noticed because otherwise you could have said goodbye to your reputation as a perfect student." He handed you your homework.

"Shit, I completely forgot about it! Thank you my knight."

"You're welcome my lady." he bowed low. "See you later?"

"Sure!" you replied with a broad smile.

"In that case, dear ladies, let me take my leave for this moment."

"Be safe my dear friend!" you waved goodbye. As he was walking away halfway he turned in your direction once again due to which he missed and bumped into a trash container standing in front of the school. Seeing this you chuckled.

"When are you going to tell me about it?" your friend asked, bringing you back to the ground.

"About what?" you asked surprised.

"About what's between you two? Don't get me wrong, because I love the fact that it happened, but I haven't seen you as happy as this in a long time. You spend almost every free moment with him!"

"Because we are friends Robin!"

"I don't recall me or Steve making you turn red like a tomato."

"Well, okay maybe you're right, but how do I know he feels the same way?"

"Moments ago he called you his lady, he looks at you with the same admiration with which he would look at Ozzie, for heaven's sake!"

"What should I do?"

"Ask him out on a date."

"Do you think I should?"

"I think you should."

"Yeah, maybe I should." you slowly nodded.

The first lesson for Eddie lasted an unmercifully long time. Completely uninterested in what the teacher was saying, he was scribbling in his notebook when someone said your name. It was one of the cheerleaders who sat in front of him.

"Did you hear that y/n is now hanging out with The Freak?" whispered one of them. Unfortunately loud enough that Eddie could easily understand everything.

"Some say they're dating." replied the other.

"No way, I don't think she would ever fall that low."

"People do strange things to deal with grief. Maybe he gives her drugs for free?"

"I don't know, but after her father died, she got really weird. Maybe they even fit together?" she shrugged her shoulders.

"Maybe. What are you wearing to Saturday's party?" they changed the subject.

Listening to their conversation about himself, all his happiness evaporated. He felt as if he had defied the wall. When the bell finally rang he wanted to leave the classroom in front of which you were already waiting for him.

"Hey!"

"Oh, hello." Seeing your wide smile, he couldn't help but reciprocate it.

"Are you okay?" you asked sensing his sad mood.

"Yeah." he lied. Even if he wanted to tell you what was going on he couldn't.

"I wanted to ask you something." you said nervously. "I heard there's a drive-in cinema event this weekend..." you took a deep breath. "Maybe you would like to go there with me? For a date?" You did it. You managed not to panic and get the last two words out. Your pride in yourself, however, did not last long. After a moment of silence, Eddie burst out laughing. That was the moment when everything fell to pieces.

"I see you're in a joking mood today." he replied. Fortunately, the doorbell rang.

"I have to go." you muttered, turning your back to him. Grateful that you could get lost in the crowd of students going to classrooms you thanked god that Eddie didn't witness your demise.

you can find an alternative ending here

From that moment on you avoided him like a fire. You didn't even look in his direction. Eddie didn't quite understand why there was such a change in your behavior. He missed you unimaginably, and the pain he felt when you changed the direction of your path when you saw that he was going your way broke his heart. Maybe the cheerleaders were right? Recently your condition had improved so maybe you didn't need him anymore? Maybe everything you managed to build over that time was not as important to you as it was to him? Maybe, in fact, this whole friendship existed mainly for you to have free access to drugs? There were many options in his mind, but none of them were true. Still sanctimoniously convinced that your idea about the date was just a silly joke, he was still looking for a reason why you pushed away so suddenly.

After your feelings and the very idea that you could be more than friends were violently erased your sleeping problems returned. The first night you kept waking up time after time, the second night you didn't sleep at all. Many times you wanted to pick up the phone and call him but when your hand reached for the receiver the reason why you couldn't do it appeared as a painful memory.

At lunch on Thursday, he watched you closely. Bags appeared under your eyes again, and after a while he noticed you struggling with your eyelids which were getting heavier and heavier. You tried to stay awake at the table. How tired did you have to be if you wanted to sleep in the damn noisy cafeteria? Did your sleep problems come back? Why didn't you call him? Why didn't you come to him?

Fighting fatigue was harder than you thought. You rested your head on your hands placed on the table feeling how you could no longer defend against it.

"Can we talk?" a voice came from behind you, at the sound of which your heart wanted to jump out of its cage. The voice you longed for. "In private." he said pointing with his head toward the corridor which was empty at lunchtime. Seeing his serious face, your nerves immediately drove the sleepiness away.

"What's up?" you asked once you were alone. As quickly as those words left your mouth you felt waves of embarrassment. What's up? Was that really the only thing you could get out of yourself at that moment?

"Why didn't you say anything?" he asked. "I thought we were friends, that we could trust each other."

"Eddie I don't think I understand what you mean..."

"You can't sleep again, you stopped talking to me, why?"

You were about to lie that everything was fine, but before that lie could make a sound you were interrupted by the school secretary.

"Eddie?" she asked standing behind him. He rolled his eyes in annoyance and turned toward her, thinking that now he didn't have time to listen to what he had done this time that he was going to face another visit in the principal's office. "We just received a call from the hospital. Your uncle was in a car accident." When he heard this news he felt himself grow weak leaning against the wall. His world was taken over by darkness and a cold he hadn't felt in ages. The memories came back with redoubled pain. Suddenly he was twelve years old again in his old elementary school when one of the teachers told him to pack his backpack because his Uncle Wayne had come to pick him up from school. Not understanding much he happily ran out of the classroom. Only Wayne's worried expression and reddened eyes showed that something was wrong. That day, 12-year-old Eddie had to understand that he would never see his mom again in his life, and his dad would be in jail for years to come.

"Eddie?" Your voice snapped him out of his trance.

"I have to go to the hospital." He said running toward the exit, you, not thinking much, ran after him. At that moment, your heartbreak caused by his rejection didn't matter. He was there for you when you needed him. Now it was time for you to be the strong one for the two of you.

There was silence in the hospital, where bad omens lurked alone. When you were informed that Wayne was currently being examined you sat down in uncomfortable chairs in the waiting room. Eddie nervously moved his leg rubbing his face with his hands. He was trying to be calm but the thought that he might lose another parent made him nauseous. He didn't even notice when tears started to run down his cheeks. You noticed it much sooner and crouched down in front of him cupping his face and rubbing the wet marks with your thumbs.

"I can't lose him." His voice was breaking and his lower lip was trembling. "I can't stay alone without him."

"You won't lose him." you answered immediately. You rose up and sat on his lap so you could hug him and be as close to him as possible. He immediately melted into you sobbing against the bend of your neck. He felt all his walls cracking. He couldn't remember the last time he allowed himself to cry, but now in your embrace he felt safe. He reciprocated the hug clinging tightly to the material of your shirt. With one hand you gently stroked his hair and every now and then whispered that everything would be fine.

You didn't ask questions, you didn't interrupt him, you just let him cry out all his fears and worries. When he began to calm down and his grip loosened you moved slightly so that you could see his face.

"You are not alone with this." you said quietly placing your hand on his cheek which you stroked with your thumb. "We are alone together, remember?"

"I thought you didn't want to talk to me anymore..." he muttered while sniffling still holding his hands on your back.

"I'm sorry. But I want you to know that even though you don't feel the same way I feel about you I still want to be your friend. I still want you in my life Eddie."

"What-" Confused he tried to follow your words. What feelings are you talking about? Still, he didn't have time to finish the question because, seeing the doctor walking down the corridor and right next to him Wayne with his arm in a cast, you immediately jumped off his lap and ran towards them. Fortunately, apart from his broken arm, nothing was wrong with him. Eddie hugged his uncle with relief, cursing how much he had scared him. Wayne joked that he wouldn't get rid of him so easily, but there was an audible emotion in his voice. The three of you returned to the trailer, where the older Munson immediately stated that he needed to go to bed. Eddie suggested he go to his room to sleep, and this time he would be the one sleeping on the couch.

"What a day, huh?" he ventured, falling back on it.

"Yeah..." sat down next to him. "I'm glad your uncle is okay," he said.

"Yeah, me too..." he sighed looking at the ceiling, after a moment he looked at you. "Thank you for being there for me."

"Alone together, right?" you smiled slightly.

"You really mean it?"

"It's going to be a little hard at first, but yes."

"I don't think I understand..." Was being with him really that hard? Was he really that annoying?

"Stop overthinking Eddie." You interrupted seeing his thoughtful expression mixed with worry. "I understand that you don't feel the same way I do, and that's okay. You don't have to feel guilty about it."

"I still don't understand. What kind of feeling are you talking about? You have to explain it to me."

"Eddie I swear if you're trying to make me feel like an idiot now or this is some kind of joke then please stop."

"No y/n, wait. I really don't know what you mean, what feelings?"

You took a deep breath. To be honest, it looked like he still hadn't guessed anything. After everything, you asking him out, how come he still couldn't figure it out? "I like you Eddie, much more than a friend could like a friend."

He would be lying if he said he never thought about that moment. Of course he thought about it. But it was never from this side. In his thoughts, he was always the first to say what he felt. There were days when hope allowed him to imagine you throwing yourself into his arms in response. There were also days when he self-inflicted punches thinking that when he did that you would laugh at him because of it. And then he understood everything.

"When you were talking about a date...You weren't joking?" he muttered uncertainly.

"Of course not! Why would I?"

"Jesus, I'm a fucking idiot! I'm sorry! For real- I'm sorry. Damn fool! The girl I've had a crush on for ages asks me out, and I what? I laugh about it?" He was angry with himself. "Damn it!" he slammed his fists on the pillow panicking.

"Leave this poor pillow alone!" you joked moving closer to him. "Have you had a crush on me for a long time?" why the sudden courage and confidence in you? You had no idea, but this time you weren't going to just walk away.

"It wasn't obvious?" he muttered and took a strand of hair covering his mouth with it.

"Eddie I asked you out and you laughed at me. How could it be obvious?" You took his hand.

"I don't know." A part of you wanted to be angry with him, but you didn't hide the happiness you felt about this confession. In addition, the sight of him so shy melted you up to the limit. "I seriously thought you were joking," he said.

"I wasn't. And the proposition still stands if you're interested."

"Of course I am!" he said and pulled you into his lap and embraced you tightly. He never wanted to let you out of them again. "So dreams can come true after all." Pure happiness was painted on his face. He looked at you with a dreamy gaze, wondering what he deserved such a miracle in his life. He wondered how such a beautiful and amazing person could have chosen him. You, on the other hand, were also drowning in thoughts about how Eddie Munson became your home. About how your first deal was so much more than pot.

"What else have you dreamed of Eddie?" you asked quietly running your hand over his cheek.

"I'm afraid if I tell you it won't come true," he said.

"What if I help you make them come true?"

He brushed a strand of your hair behind your ear and, after a moment's hesitation, kissed you gently. It was the sealing of a promise that you would always be alone together.

a few months later

The white blinding light inflicted pain on him. Only after his eyesight adjusted to it he was able to see where he was. Several cables hooked up to his body and an IV stuck in a vein. An unbearable burning pain over almost his entire body. The last thing he remembers was your weeping face, Dustin's screams and the feeling of all his life escaping. Scene after scene he recalled what had happened, and Steve's words about not being heroes echoed in his head. He remembered coming to terms with his death. He remembered how his last words were I love you directed toward you. He had no idea how he survived it. He had no idea what or how a powerful force allowed him to remain in this world, but when he turned his head and saw you sitting by his side he thought that maybe it was because of your love that he was still here. You were a walking example to him that true love exists and is able to overcome everything. Maybe it was also able to overcome death?

"Eddie? Eddie, baby, oh my god!" you shouted, waking up Wayne who was snoozing in the chair across from you, and quickly ran to get a doctor. After a series of examinations, you were finally able to re-enter the room. Wayne not waiting much you sat down next to him catching his hand.

"You scared the shit out of me, son." His voice was breaking and his cheeks were already wet with tears. Every day that Eddie spent in a coma was a nightmare. Worry about whether he would ever wake up sucked all the strength out of both of you. No wonder you yourself couldn't control your tears. But not wanting to spoil the moment between them, you stood by the door with your hand pressed to your mouth.

"Sorry, I had to do something... I had to keep them safe." His voice was weak, but it was the most beautiful sound in the world. A sound that was confirmation that your Eddie was not gone. That he is here with you.

"Come here, kid." said Wayne extending his hand in your direction. Needing no further encouragement, with a quick step you covered the distance between you. You sat down in the vacant seat on the bed.

"I thought I had lost you," you sobbed out.

"Sweetheart..." he squeaked out. "I'm so sorry..." Now he too began to cry. All three of you didn't have the strength to hold back the emotions that were gripping you at that moment.

"It's okay now Eddie, you're here, we all are. It's okay now." you took his hand and kissed the top of it. "I love you so much. The most in the world."

"I love you too, very much."

Wayne's heart grew at the sight of the two of you. His son deserved the best, and he was sure you were able to provide it all for him. Your moment was interrupted by the loud sound of the door opening, through which a breathless Joyce rushed in.

"Y/n!" she exclaimed upon seeing you. "Oh Thank God!"

"Joyce!" you quickly got up and threw yourself into her arms. "I'm all right. I'm fine."

"I'm so happy, baby." she said squeezing you even tighter.

"This is Eddie." you said when you pulled away from her after a moment. "My boyfriend, I told you about him on the phone."

"Yes, I remember! Hi, Wayne, Hi Eddie." she greeted them. "The kids told me everything, I'm so sorry you had to go through all that."

"I am fine now." Eddie sent her a slight smile.

"Y/n, honey, I'd like you to see someone, okay?" she cupped your face. "This may come as a bit of a shock to you, but..."

"Where is she?" before Joyce finished her sentence a familiar voice reached you. In that moment, the world came to a standstill. Was it a dream? Did you really die during your last mission in the Upside Down and now you are in heaven? Is that why you are seeing him now? "My Little girl." Hopper's voice broke in mid-word. After the hell he had been through, he was finally home. He was finally with his daughters. Seeing how dazed you were standing motionless just staring at him, he approached you with a slow step not wanting to scare you. He realized that his sudden resurrection was a shock to you.

"Dad?" you whispered slowly reaching out your hand toward him, and he immediately grabbed it. He was there for real. His hand was warm. He was breathing. He was alive. Emaciated and down-at-heel but alive.

"It's me y/n. Really me." he said pulling you slightly toward him. When you were close enough he locked you in a bear hug.

"You are alive. You're alive." you began to repeat to convince yourself that what was happening was real.

"Yes, I am alive I am back. I will never disappear again, I promise."

Eddie Joyce and Wayne watched your reunion with joy. Neither of them dared to speak up to let you enjoy it to the fullest while sending each other tearful happy glances.

"Hi Wayne and... Eddie." he said looking toward the hospital bed as he moved away from you.

"Hi Chief." said Eddie hesitantly feeling his heart about to fail from nerves. He expected a rant that he should stay away from his daughter.

"Do you know each other?" you asked surprised.

"Your boyfriend occasionally liked to take rides with me in the police car." he smiled slightly and walked toward the bed. "Thank you for keeping my daughter safe, boy." he patted him on his healthy shoulder.

That day was definitely destined for miracles. That day you regained everything that was most important to you. You got your family back and swore to yourself that you would never again allow the loss of any of them.

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1bringthesun · 1 year ago

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alright. we’ve reached deranged o’clock. today, i, tai, will be dissecting the garb of Fyodor (bsd). if someone has done this already, oops! let’s begin.

to start, an image of Fyodor for reference.

so i’m kicking us off with his hat, because that’s probably the easiest part. the fandom has collectively agreed that it’s an ushanka, and yeah, i tend to agree. it pretty much looks exactly like this (image pictured below: white ushanka from this link).

so that’s that. to balance it out, i’m doing his cape next, because what the fuck. it looks like a pretty normal cape at first glance. one with fur lining. like this (image pictured below: a black cape with fur lining at the top near the collar from this link.)

but i urge you to go look back at the reference image, because not only does Fyodor’s cape not attach at the top, not only does it have buttons along the edges, but it has a notch lapel (a type of collar lapel; basically those foldy things by the sides at the top of a trench coat). and once again, it doesn’t attach at the damn top.

so that leaves us two options: either it’s an unbuttoned coat with sleeves that don’t show because it’s so dark and a fur lining, or it’s a really weird cape. and please spare me, because i know nothing about fashion. i’m doing this all for fun. so let’s explore each option.

it could definitely be something like this, except with fur added (image pictured below: soviet officer’s naval uniform from this link)

except… you know. it doesn’t have sleeves. but his cape doesn’t have anywhere to clip onto at the top, and it also has that collar lapel, and also buttons, so it barely looks like a cape at all! what are you WEARING, Fyodor??

there’s one last possibility, but it’s not a style of cape so much as it is one specific thing i found that looks like the discolored version of what Fyodor is wearing. because i know i’m going to hit the image limit, i’m just going to tell you to visit this link if you wanna see what it looks like. it’s just a lora piana cape.

in any case, his cape does look like a personally tailored version of something that originally came from the russian military, so there’s some food for thought. moving onto his shirt.

the one clothing item that looks most like what he’s wearing is a qipao/cheongsam top. for all intents and purposes, the style and everything looks quite similar—the buttons and how they’re in the middle, where the purple-colored trim would go on Fyodor’s shirt and how it aligns with the sewing, etc. here is an example.

(image pictured below: a white qipao/cheongsam top that honestly looks a lot like what Fyodor is wearing from this link)

that looks pretty similar, right? right?!?! but damnit Fyodor, you had to make things complicated, didn’t you?! because … because your collar? that is NOT a qipao/cheongsam collar. (image pictured below: official art of Fyodor holding his hat and smiling with no cape on from this link)

the only thing that would explain how this was still a qipao/cheongsam top was if he was wearing a fengxian collar. and even then… it’s not quite right. (image pictured below: woman wearing a red dudou with a fengxian collar from this link.)

…but putting so much effort into styling one single shirt… i mean, i couldn’t find any men’s examples of the fengxian collar because styling your qipao is more of a feminine thing to do. so let’s visit russian fashion again.

ah, but there’s the slight kicker. 19th century russian fashion was, to my knowledge, influenced by asian fashion. for example, the khalat, also known as a russian cape, which— huh, do you think he could be wearing a khalat?

….i finished talking about his cape. and as i was writing about the weird collar on his shirt, i remembered this official art, which i grabbed and saved directly from the manga so i don’t have a link source. (image pictured below: newish official art released in the manga—Dazai and Fyodor standing next to each other with yellow paint(?) severing their heads from their bodies and TV screens with various pictures surrounding them.)

Fyodor’s collar! look, it’s straight! maybe he IS wearing a cheongsam! the cape still has that weird collar lapel (goddamn it) so i can’t really say anything enlightened about that, but… the shirt!!

cool! alright! his pants! so this is really straightforward. idk if it’s pants that come as a pair with the shirt or something, but they just look like normal white linen pants to me. (image pictured below: linen, white pants on a woman from this link)

finally, his shoes. i only have one image left before i hit the image limit, so i hope you’re willing to scroll back to the top, where you’ll see his shoes look very strange, but surprisingly, they’re easy enough to label.

i think it’s likely he’s wearing Renaissance boots, given how they look almost identical to his sans the fact they’re disconnected in the front, but Renaissance boots DO have gaps, it’s just not pictured in the specific image of these specific boots i chose. (image pictured below: Renaissance boots from this link.)

yeah, they’re a little short, and maybe they don’t look EXACTLY right, but you can’t deny it’s the same style. if you think the shoe quarters look a little less attached to the vamps, then i’d just tell you to consider the fact he’s wearing spatterdashes and call it a day. (more about spats here.)

and finally, if you’re interested in 19th century/historical russian fashion, given Fyodor’s outfit seems pretty inspired by that, i advise you check out this link, which goes into some detail about things i didn’t.

of course, i hope you enjoyed my disorganized insanity, and may you have a good sun-out time or moon-out time!

#fyodor dostoyevsky bsd #bungou stray dogs #bsd #fashion #russian fashion #russian history #i dunno what else i can tag this with #cosplay advice #maybe cosplay advice?? not sure if it counts as that #Fyodor bsd #bsd Fyodor #yeah maybe i’m abusing these tags but i spent time on this and i want attention for it

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emiliasilverova · 1 year ago

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Day 2 of Fest... time to unleash one very big post 👀

You've seen the title on the link above, today I bring you an Alec playlist. But me being me, there's a tiny bit more to it than just being a selection of music I love (it absolutely is, though, don't get me wrong). This is a narrative playlist—in other words, each song represents a moment in Alec's life, in chronological order, and based on my interpretation of (and expansions on) the GoldenEye canon. Oh and... although I didn't put that much thought into this aspect of the playlist, it happens to be mostly British songs, some Russian ones and a few others. Pretty fitting, I would say.

See you below the cut for the full story behind each song :D

Pink Floyd, Another Brick in the Wall pt. 1

Our story starts with Alec being a little orphan in 1950s-60s Britain. Therefore, my choice went to a song about a very similar little orphan—Pink, the protagonist of The Wall. Although circumstances are different, the song tells the same story for both kids: they're lonely and deeply resenting of their father's (or parents') absence... which will be the root of all the ills in their lives.

David Bowie, Life on Mars?

There was a joke between @prismatic-bell and I once. Since Bowie and Alec are so similar in terms of appearance, Bowie must have been Alec's first crush (and therefore, bi awakening). Therefore, there has to be some Bowie in here—and this song in particular is perfect to describe Alec growing up, looking at the depressing Cold War world from his young eyes.

David Sylvian, Forbidden Colours

Speaking of bi awakenings, well this is it. At this stage of the story, young Alec has realised ‘[his] love wears forbidden colours’. And just like in the song, he'll ‘[try] to show unquestioning faith in everything’, from public school to the army. Another brick in his wall, as somebody else would sing.

John Barry, Theme from the Persuaders

The only instrumental in this playlist, but perhaps the name of the composer alone tipped you off on why I chose it. By now Alec is a Royal Marine, and he meets a certain Navy commander—a fellow named James Bond, you might have heard of him. So why the Persuaders and not a classic Bond theme? Easy, just watch the opening of said Persuaders. The parallel editing between the lives of Roger Moore's and Tony Curtis's characters... I dream we could have that for Brosnan!Bond and Alec.

Pet Shop Boys, This Must Be the Place I Waited Years to Leave

So Alec is an MI6 agent now (probably under James's influence). The point here is, he actually loves his job—being in the shadows, not having to be around handsome men in uniform all the time anymore... He's found his place, and he can look back on his younger years as a bad time that is finally over (or is it?) Fun fact by the way, this song could have been the Living Daylights' theme song. It didn't go too far into that process, but still I highly recommend this edit of TLD's credits with the song over it.

Frankie Goes to Hollywood, Relax

‘Not having to be around handsome men in uniform all the time anymore’... yeah. Well, there is still is one ridiculously handsome man Alec is around all the time—James. Cue more bi panic, growing jealousy, and, of course, sharing everything absolutely everything. Doesn't help that Relax, an extremely gay song (enough to be banned by the BBC when it came out...), is the hot thing on the radio back in those days...

Tears for Fears, Shout

Alec has just earned his 00 status, and he has many scores to settle with life... so he's going to shout, and life is going to hear him. Case in point, his bullets.

a-ha, The Living Daylights

A continuation of the previous song. This is Alec and James living the high life as 00 agents, full of broken gadgets, expensive food and clothing, private jokes and other code phrases. An excuse for me to shoehorn my favourite Bond song in the playlist? Absolutely. a-ha's synth version of it, too—as much as I love Barry's version (the one used in the movie), I have to say this one is vastly superior.

Public Image Ltd, The Order of Death

Oh no. Alec has been too curious and got his hands on his MI6 file. Now he knows everything. The Lienz Cossacks and their betrayal by the British; his parents' survivor guilt; the fact his name shouldn't be Trevelyan but his parents' Russian name (Trailin, in my headcanon); the fact MI6 knew his origins and still got him to work for them (if it didn't have a say in how he was brought up...) He wanted to know, now he's got his answer. Whether he likes it or not.

Secret Service, Flash in the Night

Alec is depressed. He doesn't really know yet what to make of everything he learned in his MI6 file. He looks at James but he knows he can't tell him anything. James is part of the system that betrayed his parents, then betrayed him in turn. James can't possibly understand how it feels like. Yet again, Alec is alone. The scar once healed forever dissolves in the rain, as the song has it.

Кино, Спокойная ночь (Kino, Spokoynaya noch'—Calm Night)

Not too long later, a still depressed Alec is wandering in Soviet streets during a mission. Moscow or Leningrad, who knows (one day I'll have to choose, because I really want to write a one shot based on this song). Ideas are coming to him, but they aren't really clear. The only sure thing in all this is that he's starting to feel a lot more Russian than British... hence the inclusion of the first (and not last) Soviet rock song in the playlist.

C.C. Catch, ‘Cause You Are Young

Probably the same night, Alec stumbles on an underground nightclub blaring Western songs. After all, it is the mid-1980s, and Gorbachyov's USSR slowly starts to allow such music within its borders (censorship is still there, though, as proved by the blurb on the Soviet edition of Frankie Goes to Hollywood's second album not mentioning a single thing about Relax. Western music, okay, but gay? How about nyet) Anyway, my point: Alec hears this obscure German pop song, and suddenly everything starts to fall into place in his mind. A wake-up call, if you will. What he needs now is to catch his freedom from MI6, whatever the cost.

Depeche Mode, Personal Jesus

Janus is born. Alec's Personal Jesus, the persona that will give him his freedom from—and revenge on—Britain. The inspiration behind this choice of song comes from Brigada, the most famous Russian TV show of all time. Basically, the story of a group of friends in the late 1980s who go on to become a powerful mafia group in the 1990s. In the first episode, the protagonist decides to commit his first crime over Personal Jesus... and commits said crime in an underground nightclub that blares ‘Cause You Are Young. Small world, I know.

Peter Gabriel, We Do What We're Told

Alec is preparing his plans to fake his death and truly become Janus, but in the meantime he has to pretend everything's fine. So he does what he's told... like in his childhood, like in the army. He absolutely hates it, but he knows his patience will pay off.

Propaganda, p:Machinery

One word: Arkhangelsk. The planning phase is over, the day has come for Alec to make his move and disappear from the face of the Earth. Except that, as we all know, not everything goes according to plan... Fun fact, I just learned that this song was greatly influenced by David Sylvian, of Forbidden Colours fame. The world doesn't get any bigger, does it?

Pink Floyd, Hey You

In a Soviet hospital, Alec recovers from his Arkhangelsk wounds... and falls deeper into depression. But with Janus on board, depression takes on a much more threatening face. Alec is despaired, but he also wants to kill. That should distract him from despair.

Nautilus Pompilius, Воздух (Vozdukh—Air)

As the USSR slowly dies, a new organisation comes to be—the Janus Syndicate. It's only the early days, and it probably doesn't really ressemble what we see of it in GoldenEye. But it comes at a time Soviets themselves are growing disenchanted from their world. as everything crumbles down, even law enforcement doesn't see any point in catching criminals anymore (as told by the lyrics). Exactly the kind of fertile ground the Syndicate needs to grow.

The Rolling Stones, Sympathy for the Devil

There's a newcomer in Alec's life—a certain Xenia Onatopp. Is she a cis or trans woman, I'll let you choose. What she definitely is, at least, is someone who wants absolute freedom, even if it means harming others (a cause Alec can relate to). That, and the kind of untamed energy that would greatly benefit from being given a direction. For instance... working for Janus? Unless it is dominating Janus in the bedroom... my Alec is bi for a reason, after all.

Depeche Mode, Never Let Me Down Again

Do you know Scarface, and more specifically the Push It to the Limit segment? Well picture that, but with Alec as Tony Montana, Xenia as Manny Ribera, the freshly renamed St Petersburg instead of sunny Miami... and Depeche Mode instead of Giorgio Moroder's music (with the caveat that Alec clearly didn't get married back in those days, because there's only one person he'd marry: James). These are the heydays of the Russian mafia, when some people who previously knew nothing of capitalism became dizziyingly rich overnight... and fought each other to death for more power. The days of the Gulf War, also—when the Janus Syndicate sold stolen Red Army weapons to Iraq. Pop quiz, do you know what the mafia bosses who survived those turbulent times are called today? Oligarchs. Kinda sheds a new light on Alec, I won't lie.

Tina Turner, GoldenEye

I had to include it. There's no two ways about it, this is the ultimate, canon Alec (Bondalec, even) song. Just look at the lyrics, and tell me this isn't Alec spitting all his jealousy on James. Xenia would be just as menacing, yes, but nowhere near as salty. So where are we in our story for me to include this song? Well, just at the beginning of GoldenEye proper: Xenia has met James in Monte Carlo, and tells Alec as they prepare to steal the Tiger (yes, Xenia's accomplice in that scene is Alec. Fight me). Cue a very sour laugh from Alec, who cannot believe fate has put James on his path again. Not that it really matters to him at this point though—all he's focused on is his upcoming revenge on Britain, and if James has to be a bystander, then so be it.

Midge Ure, The Man Who Sold the World

James wanted to be set up with Janus... well, he's got what he asked for. Janus, in person, at the statue park. Alec, alive and with a murderous intent. Again a song with a connection to Bowie, as you might have noticed... but unsurpringly I prefer the very 1980s, synth-heavy version by Midge Ure. Bowie, hmmmm... a hint towards renewed bi panic on Alec's part? You'll know soon enough.

Nautilus Pompilius, Нежный вампир (Nezhniy vampir—Tender Vampire)

A little interlude before we enter the endgame. The tender vampire here is Janus, of course—dragging Alec's better self into the abyss, being so jealous of James he starts circling around Natalya like a hungry shark. The absolute creep we see in the train scene, in short. For the record, I know this song from Brat, another very famous Russian movie about the 1990s mafia (I'll probably run a watchalong for it later during this Fest, so stay tuned 👀).

Propaganda, The Murder of Love

Train scene, act 2: the Mexican standoff. Alec and James face each other again, but James still doesn't really have the upper hand. So Alec (well, Janus) spits more poison at him, this time a lot more personal and hurtful. And yes, the bi panic is firmly there, as smug as Alec tries to look. He knows he can't kill James, but he also knows he can't let James talk to him. Alec can't be diverted from his revenge on life itself, because that would be acknowledging that all the time and effort he put into that goal was a waste. Therefore, he prefers to gloat at James... in other words, to be the victim who's become the judge, and to make James plead for mercy.

Pet Shop Boys, I’m Not Scared

Well, this particular one originally wasn't in the playlist. But the moment I first heard it, I knew I had to include it. This has to be James's answer to all of Alec's venom in GoldenEye and The Murder of Love. James has always loved Alec, and doesn't understand how Alec could have grown so scorned and spiteful. Are Janus and Alec really the same person? Will he have to kill Alec? If he does, will James ever be able to forgive himself? If only he and Alec could talk heart to heart... as @3nigm4art commented about this song, Alec would cry if he heard James singing it to him. Perhaps he could even be reasoned... So what I envision here is the beach scene, with James looking at the sea asking himself all those questions—and Alec, somewhere in his lair, being unable to take James out of his mind.

Leonard Cohen, First We Take Manhattan

We are now in the Janus control center in Cuba. Xenia is dead by now, but Alec probably hasn't really processed that yet. After all, he has other things on his mind: his scheme coming so close to completion... and James right in front of him, watching and commenting what he sees. Alec likes this, in a way—what better witness to him becoming a literal god than James? He's not jealous anymore at his point, because in his mind, he's won. He's done the impossible: destroying Britain, and beating James. But there's an issue here... being so drunk with his triumph, he forgot that James won't let himself be just a passive bystander. Which surely won't come back to bite him in the arse, will it?

Pet Shop Boys, It's a Sin

As everything explodes around him (literally), Alec loses it. James has stolen the triumph he deserved to get. Therefore, James will die. By Alec's hand. Ensues the fight on the antenna. Alec probably knows he won't survive it, but he doesn't care anymore. All his rage, all his jealousy, all his frustration are what fuels him at this point—with glimpses from his past flashing before his eyes, as the song suggests. He has wasted nine years of his life, and the rest of it in fact. His whole life has been nothing but sin, from his origins and attraction to James to becoming a spy then a mafia leader. So if there's no turning back... at least he'll go out with a bang. And hopefully take James with him.

Кино, Легенда (Kino, Legenda—Legend)

The story ends here. Alec falls to his death after James lets him go, and James has to live with the memory of Alec haunting him. But is it what really happens? If anything, this song is here to be an open ending. It is an elegy, yes, but it could be Alec singing it. Since death is worth living, but love is worth waiting, maybe he survived and has to piece himself back together at James's side. Or maybe it's James who fell. You decide, but at least there's one thing we can all be sure about. Credits might roll, but Alec's legend never ends.

(Thank you so much for reading, and listening ♥️ I put a lot more energy into this post than I thought I would 😅)

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oodlyenough · 11 months ago

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fic 20 questions

1. how many works do you have on Ao3? 127...! I have had the account since 2009, lol.

2. what's your total Ao3 word count? 707,519

3. what fandoms do you write for? Generally I only write for one at a time, which is currently Ace Attorney. Not counting the odd one-offs for ask memes over the years, the other big ones were Arcane, Borderlands, Doctor Who and the wizard books.

4. what are your top five fics by kudos?

Commutative Law (Arcane)

Window of Opportunity (Arcane)

Where the Air is Rarefied (HP)

Prestidigitation (Arcane)

Contingency Planning (Arcane)

Lmao, 4 of 5 written in 2022. You can see the power of writing m/m in a popular new fandom VS my entire other library at the time. Admittedly at some point I made a concerted effort to try and knock HP down from top spot, which was successful. For now. Jayvik fandom has quieted down a lot.

5. do you respond to comments? Yes. Sometimes it takes a while because if it's a particularly thoughtful comment I try to give a particularly thoughtful reply, and it can take time to gather my thoughts.

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending? I'm going to discount oneshots because the tone in one-shots tends to be more consistent throughout the piece rather than being about the "ending" yknow.

So probably King and Country, a Doctor Who fic cowritten with @go-ldy way back when. Technically a happy ending if you factor in immense amounts of off-screen couples therapy lmao. But we had originally written something much simpler and happier, and it didn't fit the story at all, so we went back and wrote something heavier for the closing chapter, which is why it sticks in my mind.

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending? I think probably Anachronism, the 95k Borderlands epic. I had always had a rough image of the four main characters happy together by the end, and it was also my swansong in Borderlands fandom, so I wanted it to be an optimistic, happy ending (especially in contrast to whatever the hell is going on in the canon there now lmfaoooo). Plus the rest of the fic was quite angsty, and the ending was hopeful and happy.

8. Do you get hate on fics? Not in recent memory. Once upon a time I got a couple disgruntled comments in Doctor Who fandom, and perhaps funniest of all found people complaining about my fic on LJ in French, unaware I read French.

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind? Nope I'm a big baby who gets too embarrassed. I've written some pretty soft-focus M rated stuff but nothing I think could rightly be called smut.

10. Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written? I wrote a short joke crossover between Doctor Who and Inspector Spacetime, the Doctor Who parody from Community. I don't think that one made the leap from Teaspoon to AO3 actually.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen? Not that I'm aware of

12. Have you ever had a fic translated? Yes, a number of times. It's very flattering. Mostly Borderlands fics and mostly into Russian iirc, but there's been a few over the years. Sometimes people ask, and I say "sure, drop me a link!" and I never hear back, so I'm not sure if they forgot to link or just never finished translating to begin with.

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before? My longest and best DW fics with @go-ldy way back when! Not so much since.

14. What’s your all time favorite ship? I'm gonna be real it always just feels like whatever I'm into at the moment. And, actually, not necessarily something I write fic for -- like Pricefield is an all-timer for me, easy, but I have never written fic and I haven't read all that much either. If I were narrowing to tree, one of "each" lol, probably Doctor/Rose, Pricefield and Narumitsu.

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will? Don't have any. I know I will never finish them (RIP Fixer-Upper and Silly Love Songs) as I've lost interest in those fandoms.

16. What are your writing strengths? I'd like to think I am good at packing emotional and/or character beats into a concise scene or story. Adding missing scenes or elaborating on canon scenes to give some additional depth or meaning without really deviating from the source.

17. What are your writing weaknesses? Definitely plot. I will get stumped on the technicalities of things for ages -- I might know an emotional scene I'd like to write, but hell if I know how to get them there. It's why I primarily write one-shots. Also I struggle with any kind of scenery or set description.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic? I avoid it as much as I can. (Which so far has been entirely, lol.) I don't speak any other languages well enough to write dialogue in them and feel awkward relying on Google translate or hitting up random friends to do that work for me. I am more likely to use the "said something in [language]" approach.

19. First fandom you wrote for? I actually can't be sure but I think it was 101 Dalmatians. The animated one. When I was like, 7.

20. Favorite fic you’ve written? I'm gonna cheat and do one per fandom:

Anachronism (Borderlands) -> biggest, most complicated, plotty fic I have ever written, with four main characters and every combination of relationship between them as the focus. Took 3 damn years. Very proud of it.

Unravel (Ace Attorney) -> total recency bias here but I'm very happy with it and it scratched a very particular itch for me, fleshing out a relationship and characters that exist mostly in the fringes of canon, something I used to do lots of but haven't in recent years

Contingency Planning (Arcane) -> an emotional sucker punch fic in my humble opinion, happiest with it

Out of the Howling (Doctor Who, with @go-ldy) -> actually I had a hard time picking a DW fic. But this was our last together and most complex, so it wins. Also the Master is fun as hell to write.

I am supposed to tag people! I am not sure who else has already been tagged. Do it or don't, I'm not your boss, happy new year 🎊 @annalyticall @heavybreathingcatt @sandboxer @mutxnts @tinsnip @tlonista @themirokai

#fic meme #adventures in fic writing

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penny-anna · 1 year ago

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20 questions for fic writers

tagged by @evilwickedme, thank you!

How many works do you have on ao3?

uhh okay let's see!! *pulls up statistics page* I have 419 works on ao3!

what’s your total ao3 word count?

as of right now: 1,429,463. shut up.

What fandoms do you write for?

i'm usually a 1 fandom at a time gal but currently i'm writing for BTTF and Shazam and less frequently for the Witcher and Lord of the Rings!

What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

in descendign order:

New Monster Stories (6803 kudos)

the world won't wait until you're older (4700 kudos)

The Price of a Touch (4245 kudos)

Somebody to Love (3629 kudos)

Tender, like a soft new sapling (3277 kudos)

at this point i've accepted that i will never experience the highs of the 2020 witcher fandom ever again

Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

SO i used to respond pretty frequently but then i spent a while writing in a very very tiny fandom where every single comment was cherished & i got out of the habit of replying bcos in my mind once i've replied to a comment it's 'finished' so living them unreplied to meant i could enjoy them for longer. and then i got out of the habit!! these days i tend to only reply if i have something to say but i am grateful for all of them <3

What is a fic you wrote with the angstiest ending

im not gonna link any of them but in my Merlin days i did write multiple fics about my OT3 killing each other. im fine thank you for asking.

What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

huh i feel like this is harder to measure than the above?? hmmm. scrolling back through my recent-ish works, it isn't kind is pretty unabashedly fluffy.

Do you get hate on fics?

ehhh i've had some rude comments but i wouldn't say hate

Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

these days not so often!! have ended up in a string of found family type fandoms. but yeah i got uhh 65 fics rated E on the ao3. most of them are m/m occasional f/f or f/m.

Do you write crossovers?

im more into fusions which is a different thing! but have on occasion written crossovers.

Have you ever had a fic stolen?

yeah actually, had a fic taken once by someone who was habitually translating fics into a different language & posting them without acknowledging the original. i think they got reported but i don't really remember who it shook out!

Have you ever had a fic translated?

yeah quite a lot of times! u can see translations of my fics on ao3 here. disproportionately russian? i assume there's just a lot of russian fic translators out there!

Have you ever co-written a fic before?

NOT for 1 million years but yes i have

What’s your all-time favorite ship?

hmmm my go to answer for this is usually two/jamie so that's what im going with

What’s a wip you want to finish, but doubt you ever will?

i'm actually still sitting on a second doctor wip that at this point i think is a lost cause. i sent the opening scene (fake out character death lol) to some people on discord a while ago just to torment them.

What are your writing strengths?

i'd like to think dialogue!!

What are your writing weaknesses?

basically all forms of description tbph

Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic?

im monolingual so i don't think i'd do this without assistance from a native speaker. i've actually published (like, professionally) a piece of fiction w some dialogue in another language and to my eternal gratitude some of my tumblr followers assisted me with the translation <3

First fandom you wrote for?

lord of the rings, when i was about 12

Favorite fic you’ve written?

of all time??? GOD. okay. first thought best thought the world won't wait until you're older.

ok uhh i will tag @uighean @limerental @a-kind-of-merry-war @megamindsupremacy

✌️

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grumpygreenwitch · 8 months ago

Text

The Witches and Wizards Job 23-24-25

Advance warning, the wizard cuts a little bit loose here. Tagged for some fantasy violence.

I'm aware the links to the back chapters are borked up, but it's nearly midnight right now and I just finished uploading everything to the queue. I'll try to fix them between Thursday and Friday.

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TWENTY THREE

I think no one expected to get together that night and count nothing but wins. But no one was hurt and our knowledge of the situation had grown by leaps and bounds - at least, that was what Ford claimed.

"I'm not happy that you all have Dresden working on the side," he told the room, throwing me a quick look.

I put a hand up; I really didn't mind. I was still trying to digest the truth both Eliot and Hardison had offered me. I'd done my job, and I'd done it well, and with their help I'd done it so quick I was still trying to get used to the fact that both cases were done, had been done nearly as soon as they'd been picked up. But the technology Hardison had used just wasn't something I could ever, would ever, have permanent access to. On the other hand, my expertise, my knowledge, everything I knew about magic and the creatures of that world, was information to be found in no database, no internet search. It was maddening.

"But it's done, so we move on to the auction. Odds are both our targets, as well as the mark, are going to be there: the lady, the portrait and the man in black."

The last bit seemed to startle the night's guest, who'd been lounging sedately on a brand-new couch near mine while nursing a vodka neat. Ford had introduced him as the client. He'd introduced himself as Vanya Fedorov. His accent had introduced him as part of the Russian mafia. Mouse had lifted his head from the moment the man had walked into the loft, and he'd never once looked away. Between him and my dog, I was getting more than a little nervous.

"Nate, there's a problem with the auction," Hardison pointed out as he rejoined us around the coffee table with its sharpie'd circle and anti-tracking ward, as well as a few other newly added protections. He'd left his phone behind by the row of desks after sorting out the delivery of the selkie skins, and he gestured at me.

"Most of the people attending aren't human," I informed the room.

Fedorov's drink paused on the way to his mouth. "My uncle is a hard man," he said levelly. "But his first loyalty is to our business. He knows I am good for it. He would not betray me."

"I don't think he has," Sophie replied. "The bird-woman, the -"

"Alkonost," he supplied.

"She wasn't there to harm you. She was there to protect you."

I was still trying to wrap my head around the fact that this gorgeous woman had decided, on the fly, to bluff one of the most powerful creatures of Russian lore, and she'd stuck the landing. God but I could only hope Ford knew how lucky he was.

"We were immune thanks to Harry," Sophie pointed out, "but you weren't affected at all. She did come looking for you, but to keep you safe."

"Safe from what?" he demanded restlessly.

"The man in black?" Eliot suggested.

"He doesn't want Fedorov hurt." Ford said mildly. I was beginning to recognize that tone as a warning signal. "He very nearly derailed one plan already for you," he told the Russian.

"For me?"

"The museum!" Parker exclaimed in sudden realization.

Nate nodded, then looked at Fedorov. "You made plans to go visit the Sokolov collection. Made them in advance. I had a look at your electronic ledger. You did have plans - for the day after, the last day of the exhibition."

"I did," the Russian admitted readily.

"You changed those plans when someone told you we were there."

Fedorov grinned ruefully. "I thought to press my case and enjoy Sokolov's work. Two birds with one stone. It seemed efficient at the time."

Nate nodded thoughtfully. "See, I was wondering about that. Because our presence there wasn't really important enough to merit derailing anyone's plans. It was you. When he came up to the room, it was to make sure you were there and he had to cancel the plan. You weren't supposed to be there that day."

"But then he did come up, and saw Grandmother," Sophie pointed out. "And getting her was worth more than protecting you."

"Mm," Nate nodded. "It was a rush job; the sort of rush job that happens when someone first says 'go', then 'stop', then 'go' again, and tempers are getting frayed, the timeline is off, everything just this much out of whack…" He waved a hand at us all. "You know the sort."

I did know the sort; I couldn't help but be amused that, from the look on their faces, so did the rest of the Leverage team.

"Explains why the guy was still there fiddling with the system when I got there," Eliot muttered. "He was waiting to put the Witchwell back in place. That's why the nitrogen tank was attached, but still closed."

"How do you know all this?" Fedorov demanded.

"The cameras," Ford replied. "Our… consultant pointed out that it's only the presence of beings like the man in black that blows up technology, and Hardison has created a number of failsafes so we can tell when a screen is about to fail. Turns out you can track someone by their absence nearly as much as by their presence."

The Russian took all of this in slowly, carefully, and finally frowned minutely. "I don't think I care for the Blackbird's interest in me. Or my family. Or my business."

Ford said nothing, but I could see in his face that he was holding back. I risked a glance at the other deadly intelligence in the room. Sophie was looking at the mastermind very closely. She caught my eyes and shook her head tinily.

I said nothing. I had just noticed that, behind Sophie, Parker was frowning, staring at nothing. Apparently Ford was contagious.

"I think your uncle's loyalties are a matter between you and him. For what it's worth, I believe he honestly thinks meeting with these people will help you take over from your father."

"By binding the family to these creatures." Fedorov scoffed. "What do they know of the family business?"

I didn't need to see the look Ford shot me to recognize a cue when I heard one. I picked up the printed photographs next to me on the couch and started handing them out one by one. "The lovely lady in white? Fey. Specializes in erasing evidence. The man next to her in red? Also fey. Specializes in erasing memories." Another picture. "Fat toad-looking man? He's actually a toad. His people love toxic waste. If someone gets a contract with them, they'll never see another fine for dumping again. The gorgeous thing next to him might be the deadliest we've identified so far. She's from Bangkok. Jade Court. Vampire. Human trafficking. This one? I'm not sure, but gosh, things sure do seem to catch on fire whenever he's around, mostly out at sea. Mostly when they're well-insured."

Between Hardison and me, while the 3D printer churned away and I stuck mirror-masks to everything it was spitting out, we'd sifted through enough information to identify thirteen of the twenty four people who we knew were going to the auction. It had been risky, using Koschei's invite to create a resonance spell that would let me find where the other invites were, but God it had paid off so well. We'd done weeks, maybe months of footwork in one long afternoon and half an evening.

It was enough to impress Fedorov - and to worry him. "No. I will not deal with these creatures. They are no better than the Blackbird, and if he's involved then each of them is a trap."

"I'm not telling you this to impress you," I corrected him. "I'm telling you to warn you. They might wanna make it look like you have no choice but to agree with whatever they say. You need to be prepared."

Fedorov took the stack of printouts and stared sightlessly at them. He looked oddly familiar at that moment, as if a touch of deja vu had come at me out of nowhere; he looked like something out of antiquity, like one of the paintings I'd seen in Hardison's screens while he studied Sokolov's work. "Can they die?" he asked.

Ooops, nope, we were back in mafia mentality. "Depends what you shoot them with. And in some cases, where."

"Then I believe you and I should speak, wizard." He shook his head and gestured impatiently. "He just stole the damn portrait. Why is he turning around and selling it already?"

"Because after the auction he won't need it anymore. Or at least that's what he thought, until he met Parker and she stole his key, and all of those." He waved a hand idly at the table's worth of knick-knacks. "So between now and the end of the auction he has to get that key back. You," Nate told Fedorov, "are going to trade it for the portrait. Make sure to tell them that when you RSVP."

"You are sending me into a den of monsters alone, Ford," Fedorov gritted out. "If you want me dead have the decency of doing it yourself."

"Not alone, no. You're bringing Sophie with you. If Dresden can get the tracker off of the other invitation we have, we'll even send Eliot in with you. And we will all be nearby to provide support. We don't want another 'situation', Fedorov, no one wants that."

Fedorov eyed Eliot, who shrugged calmly. He eyed Sophie, who smiled at him. "No offense," he told Eliot, "but I will feel safer with her."

Eliot beamed at the man. "None taken."

I had to agree with both of them, honestly.

"What about Grandmother?"

"She'll be there," Ford assured him. It was the only part of the plan I didn't like, because Ford had no explanation, no reason as to why he believed Baba Yaga would show up at the auction when Koschei was sure to be there. Last I'd checked, and from all Bob had taught me, those two were not on speaking terms, and got along about as well as fire and gasoline.

Fedorov looked thoughtful. "Wizard."

Oh, I did not like where this was going. "Uh."

"Since you are taking jobs on the side, will you take one more?"

"Uh." I looked at Ford, but he said nothing. He was giving me a keen, level look. I liked that even less. "That depends on the job."

Fedorov grinned at me. "He has tried too many times to harm Grandmother. Perhaps to kill her outright. I don't know if this is possible, if he can do this thing. I know he's trying, and I do not like it. I will pay whatever you ask, wizard. If you're there and do your best to protect her."

I felt as if the silence in the room were crushing me. "You want me to protect Baba Yaga."

"You are what I have."

"This is Baba Yaga. Grandmother Winter. Close to a living god as it gets. Not to mention I've already met the Blackbird. He won both times, in case you weren't listening."

"Did he? You walked away and he did not follow. Twice. The way I see it, you won the only victory that matters."

I wanted to scream. To walk away. I would have laughed in Fedorov's face but the truth was, I was scared. He was asking me to stand between what I saw as an unstoppable force and an immovable object. However, and I hated that he was right, but he uh. He was right. I'd stood up to Koschei twice, and I'd walked away both times. Either the man sucked at killing people, and I knew that wasn't true, or I was doing something right. I just didn't know what.

I felt as trapped as Fedorov did, but I could also see his reasoning. Koschei was an asshole. An unparalleled one. No one disagreed on that. But Baba Yaga, even if she was mercurial, alien, inhuman, still cared about the land and the people in a way her pupil didn't. If there was a line on the sand, I knew which side I was on. "I'll do what I can," I couldn't make the words come out civil, but at least I could make them come out.

Fedorov nodded at me. "In that case," he grinned minutely, leaned forward and picked up one of the chicken bones and the little carved wooden cup from among the many knick-knacks on the table and dropped the one inside the other. The bone let out a little rattle. "Let me tell you a fairy tale about Koschei and Grandmother."

TWENTY FOUR

The leshy came back that night, and they brought friends once again.

I was dead asleep in spite of every thought and worry wrecking chaos in my mind. I was worried, and I was pretty sure I had a right to be. We were about to throw a bluff in the face of some of the deadliest, smartest monsters ever to come out of the Nevernever, Leverage also wanted to steal from them at the same time. There was just so much going on that I'd given up trying to keep track of it all, and resigned myself to doing my part of it and never figuring out what, other that stealing, these people did.

Mouse's low growl woke me up as if someone had punched me. He'd been asleep at the foot of the bed, which was big enough for five of me or two of him, and when he stood up I could see his ruff standing up on end, outlined against the faint light coming in through the window. I sat up just in time to hear a muffled yowl of pain, and the creak of the door swinging open.

They'd found me. Of everything we'd picked up, all the trinkets, all the traps, I was still the easiest source of magic to find. I just hadn't known if they'd be willing to gamble that Koschei's stuff would be with me and not in a vault somewhere, or with the Leverage people.

The house had no lintel to speak of, no doorway. It was a safehouse, a fancy storage unit where I'd spent two nights. I'm sure the leshy had expected some trouble getting through the door, but I already knew they had humans in the roster, and humans could pick a lock or break a window, slip inside and invite the leshy in. There wasn't enough of a presence in the house, mine or otherwise, to kick up a passive defense out of habitation alone.

Which was why Eliot had lined every doorway and windowsill with iron nails.

Another muffled yowl and I was quietly on my feet, reaching for my shirt and my duster. There were a few traps between the leshy and what they sought, but once again I was counting mainly on them not being able to use magic to find the stuff. I drew a deep breath, stepped back from the bed, called Mouse to me, and flicked a throw blanket on the bed.

I'm not good at Veils. I know people who can hide entire stadiums worth of people, sight, sound, scent, every sense. Me, I was counting on it being dark so that when the leshy came up, as they must, it would look like I was still asleep on the bed. It didn't make sense for them to risk waking me up while they tore the place apart, which they'd likely do. Not to mention they could always ask me where everything was, and provide all sorts of incentives for me to tell them.

I managed to get my sneakers on before I heard the stairwell creak minutely. I fell back into the shadows of the closet, Mouse by my side, staff on one hand and wand on the other, and waited.

The door to my bedroom opened very slowly. The same dim, reflected streetlight glow that had shone on Mouse showed me the paw-like hand of a leshy as it stepped forward, sniffing the still air in the room. Its eyes locked onto the bed and it moved forward with a little more confidence. It cleared the door and another one came in behind it. They moved to flank the bed. A third one came in.

The moment it was clear of the door I surged forward, slammed the door shut, and pointed my staff at it. "Forzare."

It might have come out a little angry. I was getting real tired of leshy, to be fair. The blast of force threw the leshy through the window in a shower of glass and wood; it screamed as it went, the iron nails on the windowsill scraping it raw.

Mouse flew at another leshy with a snarl. Its nature betrayed it; not only was my dog very big and fairly terrifying despite his youth, leshy were creatures of the field, their nature very close to rabbits, to hares, to moles. It shrieked in immediate terror and went down, scrabbling and writhing, all the fight gone from it, wanting only to get away from its natural predator.

The last one didn't stop to think. It leapt up and kicked me in the chest. I went through the bedroom door like the old oak wasn't even there. The pain was immediate, immense, blinding. Next thing I knew I was on my knees out on the hallway, and I couldn't breathe. I'd be lucky if nothing was broken. Leshy kick like the hares they look like, and the fairy-thug's reaction had been so quick I'd had no time to summon my shield.

Mouse was barking furiously in the bedroom; I couldn't get wits or breath enough to get back on my feet, but I had just enough of them to see motion coming up the stairs. I swung my wand around and let a stream of fire blaze out. The figure in front shrilled inhumanly; behind it, someone cursed entirely too humanly.

I had to get up. I had to move. I was easy prey if I didn't. I got one leg under me just in time for one panicked leshy to come sprinting out of my bedroom, and we both went down in a tangle. It tried to bite my face, and I just barely put an arm up. Its teeth caught it, but couldn't quite punch through the duster's defenses. It didn't feel like roses, though, and someone let out a very undignified howl of pain. Couldn't have been me.

I'd lost my wand when we'd gone down, and I didn't have enough room to bring my staff to bear, so I let go of it, put my free hand on the leshy's face, and let go with all the electricity I'd collected the past day. I didn't have the breath to call it - the words aren't part of the magic as much as an exercise in focus, a visualization aid. I could throw everything around without them, but I'd been using the word to try not to get zapped myself. It was a sacrifice I was willing to make.

Electric fire lit up the leshy's skull from within, made its ears stand up on end; it rolled down my hand and up my arm, but I was far more interested in the fairy-thug not getting another bite in. Fortunately, it crashed down limp on top of me, smoking faintly.

I shoved it aside and groped around for my staff. The hairs on the back of my neck stood on end and I threw my shield up instinctively.

A net crashed over it and came to rest on the gleaming half-bubble, and I was in trouble. The net had magic, unknown magic, probably meant to counter mine. I couldn't let go of the shield without getting caught in the net. I couldn't do magic without dropping the shield. The hallway was narrow, and they couldn't get to me any more than I could get to them, but that left them free to tear my house apart.

Which was apparently the going plan. The leshy I'd singed on the stairwell called out something to the human behind it, who shouted in Russian down the stairs. I heard the door to one of the rooms slam open, and a crowbar start work on the crates.

I forced myself to draw a deep breath. Mouse was still engaged with the last fairy-thug in the bedroom. My ribs were still screaming. My lungs had mostly forgotten how to work. But I needed that breath, I needed the focus of it.

At the peak of it, I dropped to a crouch, dropped the shield and called out, "Ventus!" more or less at the same time.

Have I mentioned I'm a hammer when it comes to magic?

Wind roared out, coming out of me in every direction. It threw the net for parts unknown, it sent the people on the stairwell flying back, stumbling down the steps with startled squawks and something that sounded very much like cursing. I wouldn't know, I don't speak Russian. I found my wand under my foot, lifted my staff and for good measure threw a second gout of wind down the stairwell. "Mouse!"

He came charging out of the room. I peeked in. The leshy was crawling away for the gaping hole in the wall that had been a window, both legs a ruin of greenish blood. I closed what was left of the door between it and us and began to inch my way down the stairs.

There was a hissed, angry argument going on at the bottom of the stairs, probably wondering if I was worth the trouble. Oh, I was not. So many people could've told the thugs, I'm very much not worth the trouble. I'm a burr, and at that point I was an angry burr, and to compound their misery I was an angry burr that could do magic.

Someone shouted a warning in the dark of the first floor. I threw my shield up.

Three bullets bounced off it, along with a shower of sparks. Oh, ok. Uh. I hadn't expected them to decide I was that kind of trouble. Hell's Bells. Boston had powered up my shield, but I'd apparently finally hit on the limit of what the damaged bracelet could do. If it hadn't been made to hold back more mundane threats as well as magic, I would have been very much in trouble.

I could see, vaguely, four of them gathered in what was supposed to be the living room. I was pretty sure there was at least one more crashing and wrecking one of the rooms. I saw one of them grab and yank at another, and some tiny part of me was glad to know the leshy themselves didn't want me shot, but that didn't mean one of their number, likely one of their human buddies, didn't have a gun he was entirely too willing to use. I had to finish this quick, before someone else got trigger-happy.

I dropped the shield. Mouse leapt the moment it was gone, with a snarl like a roar. I love my dog. I know my dog. At that moment I was absolutely terrified of my dog.

So were the thugs. I slammed the butt of my staff on the ground before any of them could get any ideas. "Forzare!" The shockwave sent two of them tumbling - the humans. The leshy tottered, but managed to stay upright. One of them immediately went down with a panicked screech when Mouse slammed into it.

The other twisted one hand sharply and threw something at me that glittered in the dark. I threw my shield up automatically.

The night's breath powder settled on it and began to burn.

I heard a howl, realized belatedly that it was mine; my shield-bracelet had gone instantly white-hot while it tried to defend against the very thing that was attacking it. I dropped the shield, felt the poison sink into my magic. The leshy charged me, as aware as I was that I couldn't throw magic around wildly anymore; I could very well run out of energy mid-fight.

So I swung the staff at it as hard as I could.

The impact drove it into the wall and it staggered back, dazed. I stepped into its space and punched it. Hey, it worked for Eliot. It went down on its knees with a cry.

But the two human thugs were getting up, and one was lifting his arm in a familiar fashion. I couldn't gamble, I called up my shield, gritting my teeth against the pain. The goon slammed the taser into it, electricity arcing from it over the roiling surface of the half-bubble.

I put my hand out, the one with the wire bracelet, dropped the shield and called the electricity to me. It burned down my already singed fingers, and into the bracelet, and I threw it at the other man before he could get it into his head to start shooting again. He made a sound like a broken police siren and crashed down, twitching.

I'd been keeping my eye on the group in front of me and that open bedroom door, but in the middle of the chaos I forgot that leshy are like roaches: there's always more than the ones you see. Something came at me from the kitchen and hit the back of my head. It wasn't even painful; it was just instantaneous darkness; everything shut down. My cheek hit the floor, but I didn't feel it so much as vaguely registered that my perspective on things had changed radically. I heard Mouse snarl, and someone screamed - the natural order of things.

Things went blurry and uncertain for a while. I heard the group talking, and Mouse barking furiously, but I was only aware of it because it was Mouse, and I was worried that they'd hurt him. The night's breath had settled on me like the weight of the world, burning, hissing in a way only I could hear. I felt crushed. I couldn't breathe. My magic felt sluggish and foul, like blood poisoning.

"It's not just the circle, he's got a ward of some sort around them," a man's voice said in English. Someone else spoke in Russian. I was beginning to understand Hardison's comment about learning a language by infection.

"Koldun", a hoarse, gravelly voice said. Something grabbed my face and picked me partially up, talons prickling my cheeks. "Wizard," the leshy said in terrible English. "You hear me?"

"I thought leshy didn't speak." I was trying to get myself in the game, but the night's breath was burning into my bones, my ribs hurt like someone had kicked them out of my chest, and my head was pounding.

The leshy growled - its way of laughing, I realized. It said something to one of the people around. We were in my basement. There were glow-sticks all over, illuminating my work: the brass circle on the concrete floor, closed and holding strong around a small shoebox full of Koschei's knick-knacks. Inside the circle were two more wards: the tracking foil I'd copied from the key, and a little bubble of force, very much like my shield, meant to keep things and people from this side of the Nevernever from getting through.

See, I could learn. I'd remembered that the leshy had been working with humans back at the museum, and I'd been ready.

"He says, 'the world changed, we changed with it'." It was the man who'd shouted a warning earlier, likely the one who'd shot at me. He was wearing all black, the better to be impossible to distinguish from the rest of the group. The leshy growled something at him. "You will dismiss the circle and remove the rest of your protections."

I gritted my teeth. Those talons were like shoe cleats, sharp and solid, and the fairy's grip was incredibly strong. They'd stripped me down to my pants and tee, and I was pretty sure they'd taken off anything that wasn't nailed down. I couldn't even feel the familiar weight of my pendant around my neck. My arms were bound behind me and my shoulder was really unhappy about that. They'd even taken my shoes off. "Bite me."

The leshy growled again and it occurred to me that it probably wasn't a good idea to invite him to do that. It said something a little longer this time. I was trying to figure out if I could use their ignorance to my advantage: the outermost circle was just that, a circle. Any of their human buddies could have made it past it. But because the leshy knew magical circles to be impregnable, they apparently hadn't thought to have the humans try.

"You will dismiss the circle," the translator said. "Or we will shoot your dog."

My lunge was instinctive. And pointless. The leshy stopped me before I could get an inch closer and slammed me back against a wall. It was just hard enough to be painful, but not enough to knock me out again. He even gave me a few minutes to find the wits he'd just send scattering all over with that casual bit of controlled violence.

"I drop the circle, you shoot us both."

The translator spoke. The leshy examined me, head cocked, golden eyes throwing an occasional red gleam when the light hit them just right. He said something long-ish.

"He considered it," the man translated. "But is not worth a death-curse, and you obviously love dog. What assurance can he provide?"

"Lock my dog up in the bathroom. Everyone else waits outside. I'll break the circle for him, and him alone."

"Nyet." The leshy wasn't stupid, though I'd hoped. He spoke at length, the translator asking a couple of questions.

"The dog stays in the net, goes in the bathroom. Three of us stay here. You drop the circle, remove the wards. We take you to the bathroom with your dog. You do not follow."

"I get your gun, you keep the bullets," I added.

That created a brief argument between the man and the leshy, but the translator caved eventually. Not that I didn't think they had a dozen other ways to kill me and Mouse, but the gun was the quickest one.

"And I'll need my hands free."

The leshy didn't wait for the translator. "Use feet."

"Fine."

He dragged me to my feet. Off to one side I could see Mouse, all but wrapped into a net, bound up inside a blanket that had been secured with duct tape. Ah, the net hadn't been for me, it'd been meant for him all along. He snarled, but didn't bark, probably out of pity for my throbbing skull. In the basement the sound would have echoed like thunder. Two humans picked him up warily, and while he tried to snap at them, he couldn't do more than twitch and drool. All but two leshy and the translator followed them out of the basement.

The translator pulled out the gun, removed the clip and the loaded bullet, and I twisted so he could give it to me. He didn't look happy. I made a show of muttering under my breath and calling up some magic. The effort bent me over double and I nearly felt my legs go to jelly. Bile rose up in my throat, and the lead leshy had to hold me up. I had to make it look like I was doing something, though, otherwise the leshy would catch onto my bluff about the circle.

But Boston, ah, Boston. The night's breath couldn't corrode what the city was giving me fast enough. If I could just get away, purge all of the corroded magic, I'd be fine. As it was, I had the power to throw a punch, I just had no way of knowing if it was going to blow up in my face or theirs.

I took a couple of deep breaths, tried again, and scuffed my foot over the circle and the two wards beyond it. And very calmly said, "Ignitum".

The circle broke. The lead leshy gestured the other two forward. The shoebox was plain, empty of anything but the rough dozen or so things Parker and I had got from Koschei. Everything was there, even the feathers and the invitation.

Except for two things.

The leshy grabbed me by the throat. "Key, koldun." He snapped at the translator.

"You are missing things. Where are they?"

"I only agreed to break the circle. It's not my fault if you didn't check your shopping before you paid the bill."

The leshy didn't like that. It slammed me against a wall and snarled. The translator opened its mouth -

The other leshy, who'd managed to grab the box, squealed in pain when something hot dripped down on it, then shrieked, clawing at its shoulder as a sizzling sound and the smell of burning fields began to fill the room. One of the ceiling tiles crashed down.

Everyone looked up. I just grinned at them.

Eliot had set up the trap for me, and he'd honestly had a blast doing so. The basement was bare concrete in every direction; to hide the fact that he was putting iron everywhere he could reach, he'd put up styrofoam ceiling tiles. He'd glued them to the concrete.

He'd laced the glue with iron filings.

Throwing a magical punch? Fifty-fifty. Melting fresh silicone that wasn't even hard yet? Child's play.

The lead leshy barked an order. The translator started for me. While they were both distracted I balanced myself on one foot, lifted the other, and kicked the leshy as hard as I could in the gut. He went sprawling back and crashed down on the floor. I snapped out the word of command. The circle snapped into life and cut him in half.

I dropped to my knees, most of my focus on not throwing up. The rest I channeled into forcing all the corroded magic the night's breath had poisoned out of me. I didn't even bother giving it shape, I just threw it out. It flattened the last two thugs and sent me crashing down on my face, even as I tried to force myself to get up, get to the box, I couldn't let them have the box -

More melted silicone dripped down. The last leshy squalled something that didn't sound nice, and the one human cursed. He came at me, trying to take his gun back. I drew in a deep breath and threw what little clean power Boston had given me in his face as a flash of light. He staggered back, blinded, swearing.

His buddy caught him and they both ran out of the basement, and I was left there, breathing hard, wondering if I should pass out. Or throw up. Or both, maybe. Somewhere above me Mouse was barking fit to bring the house down.

Passing out it was.

TWENTY FIVE

The gunshots woke up the neighbors. The neighbors woke up the cops, who expected to be summoned to such an address to bar brawls or petty theft, not to shots fired in a staid, elderly Boston neighborhood.

The gunshots also roused Nate. He came sprinting down the block to find half a dozen people peering out nervously, each one demonstrating vividly what they considered a safe distance, and none of them agreeing. The mastermind, who knew exactly how far a bullet could travel on kinetic energy alone, never mind inertia, didn't want to think of what would happen if there were more shots. He began taking stock of the problem by waving his phone at three of the people on the street. "Did someone, uh, did someone call the cops?" When the neighbors confirmed, he let out a long breath. "Good, good. Hey, those weren't gunshots, were they?" he asked as he dialed. "Hardison."

The Leverage team roused like a nest of wasps. A Crime Scene van and a two-man team nearly beat the cops to the site; the truck from Animal Control rolled in with them, and the one man joined the two masked people at the door, the cops making a path for them. All three of them winced as they walked in, pausing to yank their earbuds off.

"He's here," Eliot confirmed to the other two as they lit their flashlights, everyone taking a moment to hold their breath and see if they held - which they miraculously did. "You go ahead with the distraction, I'll find him." They had to find Dresden, get him out of the line of fire, and set up something appropriately gunshot-like but wholly accidental before the cops started looking in earnest. At the moment they weren't setting foot in the house, but Leverage could only guess as to why, rather than confirm.

"I need three minutes in the kitchen," Hardison said from behind Parker.

"I need two in his bedroom."

"I think we can buy you that," Eliot assured them.

"We?"

Despite the worry gnawing at him that the wizard had gone and gotten hurt (again), Eliot could only smile faintly. He whet his lips and whistled lightly.

From somewhere in the dark Mouse started barking immediately in response, a sound like thunder. Nate and Sophie, part of the crowd outside, saw every cop wince and twitch away. None of them went for their guns; none of them looked willing to go into the house. The crowd shifted restlessly, and stepped back without being urged to it. They crossed a look, but said nothing.

Parker threw a clean suit and a mask at Eliot and they split up. Alone in the dark, Eliot launched himself to the guest bathroom, just to one side of the stairs. "Harry!" When he got no answer he tried again, just a little louder. "Dresden!" No answer. He sniffed; there was a faint, familiar scent in the air that he couldn't readily place, but which left his gut tightening in anticipation of a punch he couldn't see coming. That, however was immediately set aside when he opened the bathroom door and found Mouse trussed up like a Bolivian hostage. "There you are."

Tied up or not, the Temple dog wagged his tail at him. Eliot started sawing on the duct tape, then paused; there was something sticky on either the ropes of the net or the blanket. Or the dog. Eliot considered shining the light on it, then decided he was better off not knowing. "We need to be quiet," he told Mouse, who whuffed nearly soundlessly at him. "And we need to find Harry, fast."

The moment he was loose, the mastiff sprang up on his feet and charged out of the bathroom. Eliot followed him down the stairs to, where else, the basement. The air was hot and full of the scent of burning plastic. Styrofoam tiles had fallen and shattered, leaving the tidy space a wreck. Eliot smelled rotten candy and recoiled. "Mouse, don't!"

The dog froze, and stepped back, whining.

Eliot knew that smell. He'd only smelled it once before, but sometimes that was all it took. He'd smelled it again, faintly, by the stairs. Rotten candy. Burning licorice. The basement cloyed his senses with it. Someone had come in prepared to take down both wizard and dog, and the hitter gritted his teeth. "Night's breath," he murmured, looked down at the dog. Moused looked up at him, ears perked. "You gonna be alright in there?"

Mouse eased himself gingerly into the basement. Paused. Whuffled.

Eliot followed. "Harry?"

A groan answered him, and he charged in. His boots squished on something very much not blood, but he didn't stop to check what it was. "Harry!"

"I'm gonna be sick," the wizard moaned. Eliot found him slumped in a heap against one side of the basement, tied up very efficiently, looking ashen under the light of the flashlight, Mouse licking his face enthusiastically.

"Place reeks of night's breath, man."

"That was me," Dresden admitted as Eliot worked to free him. "Someone dosed me upstairs. Burned it off here." He let out a vague sound of pain when his hands came loose and he started working feeling into them immediately. "They took the box."

"Who's surprised," Eliot grimaced when he nearly lost his grip on his knife sawing at the ropes around Harry's feet. "What… Why is everything slimy down here?"

"That was me, too," the wizard admitted. "I killed one of the leshy. Things from the Nevernever kinda melt when they die."

"They m- You mean- " Eliot found himself suddenly realizing he was, apparently, wading knee-deep through someone's equivalent of bodily fluids. "You mean we're covered in fairy blood?"

"Blood, guts…" Harry waved a hand to encompass a nebulous whole.

Full of violence as his life was, Eliot definitely had feelings about the situation, and none of them were good. "Damn it, Dresden!" he snapped as he helped the wizard to his feet and dragged him up the stairs.

"It'll evaporate to nothing soon!"

"And what part of 'don't get hurt' didn't you get?"

"You also said 'make it believable'," Harry protested wearily. "And they had humans with them. Again. And the humans had guns so. You know. The night's just been full of surprises."

Eliot hissed a breath out. Of course they would. "Alright. Get dressed." He thrust the clean suit and the mask at Harry. "We're going out the front door."

"Out the - They're gonna notice there's more people going out than came in."

Parker choose that moment to pop up next to them, making them both jump. "I'm not going out the front door." She had Harry's duster on, which made her look even more elfin than she already was, and looked terribly pleased with herself. "I found everything. They had it all stashed together. Amateurs."

Eliot merely imagined strangling the thief. Only a little. Just to soothe his rising temper. "They weren't thieves, Parker." When she gave him a pointed look the hitter realized what he'd said. "Ok, yes, they were thieves, but they weren't here to rob Harry!" Her brows went up. "You know what I mean! Is Hardison done?"

"I'll go check." She turned to look at Harry, and frowned minutely. "Are you hurt?"

"If I answer that, Eliot will get mad at me," he told her as he zipped up the clean suit.

To the hitter's chagrin, she took in that answer solemnly, nodded, and raced off for the kitchen.

"You are hurt," Eliot accused mildly.

"Leshy like to kick."

"Is anything broken?"

"No." Dresden breathed in, deep and very slow. "I don't think so. I'll get back to you on the concussion, though."

"You have a helluva sense of humor for someone I just found hogtied in his own basement."

Eliot saw the wizard grin, hard and bitter. "Eliot, I'm used to going down. I'm also used to waking up in a cell of one kind or another after." He popped the medical mask in place and put up the hood. "This is a distinct improvement."

The hitter had to pause at that. "Harry, don't you have anyone? Anyone that has your back?"

The wizard paused, went very still. "People… don't do so good when they get involved in a wizard's affairs," he admitted slowly, and the burden of pain and guilt and regret in his voice brought Eliot up very short. It had been years since he'd heard such a refined, complex mix of exactly those emotions from someone, but he remembered the day well enough.

He'd been staring in a mirror at the time, and he'd been horribly young.

"And not a lot of people accept that 'men in gray and big swords' trump a lot of the answers they sometimes want out of me."

The hitter caught the wizard's good shoulder. "Harry, for what it's worth," he said evenly. "I know it's hard. I know how it is when you've drawn a line on the sand and no one sees you holding it. Me, I'm here to keep my team safe. Twice, so far, I wasn't there - but you were. And that's enough for me. Thank you."

Dresden blew out a long breath. "Don't suppose you guys want to move to Chicago?"

"No more than you wanna move to Boston." Eliot looked up to see Hardison coming out of the kitchen, passing his backpack to Parker and taking hers in exchange. "Come on. The timing Hardison cooked up is tricky."

They marched out, the Animal Control guy first, leading the friendliest, most gigantic and slobberiest ball of fur out, leaving all the cops vaguely embarrassed that they'd been afraid to step into the house. Mouse hammed it up, tongue lolling to one side and tail wagging cheerfully. The crime scene people cleared out, the cops poured in, and everyone jumped into their respective vehicles.

It took a while to put both the Animal Control pick-up and the Crime Scene van back in place, none the worse for their small adventure, and everyone reconvened back at the loft. Sophie reported that there had been plenty of cops in the kitchen when the same security system that had destroyed the bedroom window interacted badly with an ancient electric board, entombed in the walls. The system had blown the garden door out onto the overgrown grass, and the antique board had gone off like a gun once again. A report had been written; fines would have to be paid. The owner had been summoned, and she'd been most grateful for everyone's prompt response, gracious and elegant even in her concern. Everyone had gone home somewhat disappointed and secretly reassured that life could go back to what it should be: quiet.

While Sophie soothed the mood at the safehouse, Nate came to see Dresden as Eliot, once again, patched up the wizard in the small spare bedroom behind the kitchen. Harry's entire chest was a rising, ugly bruise. When Eliot moved away to wash his hands, he spoke very quietly to the mastermind. "You know, when I said I'd like a job where I wasn't a punching bag, this wasn't what I meant."

"I know." Nate's mouth was pressed to a thin line. It wasn't just the injuries, or the attack. Violence threatened them all, that was just part of the job. But the violence that kept coming at Dresden was unpredictable and far too big for any countermeasures to readily work. "He's getting more hurt than you have in our worst jobs," he murmured quietly at the hitter.

"He's a civilian, Nate."

"So are you," the mastermind pointed out. "But I know what you mean."

"He doesn't have the training, he doesn't have the mental firewalls."

"Can you teach him?"

"In what, two days?!"

Nate gave the hitter a very keen, very level look. "I think he'd be grateful, and better off, with whatever you do give him." He pitched his voice to carry. "Dresden, what did they get?"

"Everything," Harry replied, testing his arm until Eliot flung a sling at him. "Everything but the key and the Witchwell."

"Mm. But he doesn't need those two back nearly as urgently as everything else. Not once Fedorov's offer gets to him. And he already has the portrait, he doesn't need help stealing it."

"He does if the Witchwell's not his and he needs to return it to the proper owner," the wizard pointed out, frowning thoughtfully.

"Does he?"

"He might. I'm guessing," Harry admitted, "but I don't think it's his. It's too modern, it doesn't fit what we know of the guy."

"I agree with Harry," Eliot added.

"So do I," Nate replied. "His reaction at the bagel shop was very telling. But the man in black has to know we can't destroy it, and he has to know it'd be much easier for him to recover it after the auction." He seemed momentarily lost in thought. He was wondering if Koschei would think of the many ways in which the Witchwell could be turned against him; if that potential danger would force him to divert attention and effort to its recovery.

And in three days' time, I will grant you and your people your heart's desire.

"He'll wait. He'll wait until he can simply take it back."

"He could take it back right now," Harry muttered.

"Could he? That's twice you've faced his hired thugs, and twice you've survived, Dresden. Twice you've almost won, until an external factor stepped in. Have a little faith in yourself. From his side, his odds don't look good."

Eliot understood. "He doesn't gamble. When he wins, he likes it to be by overwhelming force."

The mastermind nodded. "And every time Dresden steps in, it doesn't matter what the man in black throws on the field, it never ends up with a clean victory for him. He'll wait. We go on with the con. Get some rest, Dresden. You're no use as a monkeywrench if you're in pieces."

"I live to please, boss," the wizard declared wearily.

#the dresden files #leverage #my writing #fanfiction #crossover #harry dresden #alec hardison #nathan ford #parker #sophie deveraux #eliot spencer #urban fantasy #fantasy violence

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silverskull · 1 year ago

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What made you start writing fanfic?

MS QUESERAONE

These asks do not always appear on my phone, and it sometimes takes me loading coal into the engine of my laptop and then navigating to tumblr dot com to find them...

I started writing (terrible) fic as a teenager back in my Stargate SG-1 days, because I fell in love with Sam and Jack, and had only recently discovered that you were allowed to imagine scenarios in your head and not just say your prayers when you went to bed at night. (I also had a brief Pokemon phase, but I’m not gonna even bold that one.) That fic all disappeared in a Blue Screen of Death home PC crash back in the day, and I gave up on investing effort into digital files until I had a more reliable backup plan. Despite that, I recently discovered (and discarded, with love) pages of A4 notes I wrote in secondary school that were actually just Harry/Hermione or Sam/Jack fic starters. Love the dedication - in fountain pen, no less! - from teenage me!

After college, cue LiveJournal! And Fringe! And community fic prompts! I loved it so much. I definitely wrote 3 solid fics for Peter and Olivia back then, but I was very at sea in real life, and I didn't keep it up. I uploaded them to AO3 in recent years, and I’m glad they’ve been saved for posterity. That show was very important to me too.

After LiveJournal died/sold out to the Russians, I gave up once again, and didn't even really read fic in any of my following fandoms. But then came The Pandemic, and Lockdowns, and lots and lots of time to rewatch my favourite shows, and my brain decided to fixate on The Rookie and Lucy and Tim. I am not sorry. I was struck with the disease and forced to stay at home and go on my little mental health 2.5km walk loops, and my mind started to suggest that I could write fic again. That I'd done it before. That the brain pictures could meld into a story, and that fic archiving (with the advent of AO3) was a lot more reliable.

So, a few lockdowns later, along came "In the Hole Together", a spec-fic for 422 that was founded on fan-detectivery and paracetamol. And when people actually got interested, I thought this was something I might be able to do.

AND THEN THERE WAS ACTUAL 422.

And "Roots Won't Keep Me Warm" was born.

I've never ever written something so long, so detailed and so intense, and it became a personal challenge as much as a dedication to the readers that were following along. The only two rules I've set for myself since then are 1) Don't try to use song lyrics as titles anymore, Sil, and 2) Always finish a multi-chap.

The way my brain operates, I can only work on one fic at a time, so I never have written WIPs hanging around (though I have many, many head-plots, and some of them are even stored as bullet points in a google doc...). I hope that the one thing I will always do is finish out a fic to its conclusion, as it is absolutely an undertaking I most appreciate in the authors I love.

I had some extra time this (northern) summer (personal reasons) to devote to ChenfordWeek and finish my second Big Long Fic ("Shadows of Deception"), but it hasn't been sustainable since then, and it makes me very, very sad. I have been so harassed and harangued with real life, that I could barely even Do Imaginations for Chenford, and - to be frank - that has been critically depressing. It always has for me, since the days of SG-1.

I love writing fic, and I hope never to turn it into a job rather than a hobby, because that has never worked out well for me in the past. That said, I have you, Ms @queseraone, to thank for getting me to sit down and face the music this Christmas/Winter/Holiday season, and actually write some new Chenford content. And it is h a r d. It is hard to do the thinking and the linking and the typing. It is hard to find the time and the will and the motivation. It is hard to have a plan and then another plan and then discard it all when you actually sit down to type. But I am really happy to be doing it. I really am.

And I can’t wait for @chenfordsecretsanta to arrive, and to share in the joy of a whole batch of new fics in our little fandom! To have something to look forward to that is closer than February 20th. To have someone believe in me enough to persist in prodding and poking me into committing to this challenge.

So thank you. Thank you, and I love you, and I appreciate you.

💖

#fic #ask and answer #personal

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sissytobitch10seconds · 1 year ago

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Her Husband

Fandom: Stranger Things Summary: Robin's a nervous person, everyone knows that. First dates are also a nerve-wracking ordeal for everyone, but more so for her. Warnings: Mentions of period typical homophobia Word Count: 782 Ship(s): Steve Harrington&/Robin Buckley

Archive link!

A/N: So this is the first half of a two-part (or maybe more if I decide there's a need for it) series and it may not make a ton of sense alone. I hope that you all enjoy this part and are prepared for the next one! Stay sissy and bitchy everyone <3

Robin shifted uncomfortably on her chair. This was probably her least favorite part of having a first date with a new romantic interest. She had done it over a dozen times at this point,a ll the way through college and even into her adult career. She thought that it would get easier after a little while but it almost seemed like the world was specifically against her to make her just as anxious about it every single time she did it.

“I have something that I have to confess if we’re going to keep going down this path,” she cleared her throat awkwardly.

“Oh yeah?” her date asked.

Ashley was pretty and kind. She had long red hair that she kept in a braided bun on the back of her head because she worked with animals. Her hands were calloused on her right middle finger and along the base of her thumb. She had fair skin that refused to freckle no matter how long she stayed in the sun. Tonight she had worn a pretty blue dress that kept slipping off of her shoulder to reveal the lacy black bra that she was wearing. The fact that she was kind, worked with animals, and had obviously come to their date with the expectation of the night ending in sex was what was making it so much worse for Robin.

She wiped her hands on her pants and reminded herself that she had faced way worse than this. She would much rather have to tell pretty women who wanted to have sex with her the little secret that she kept tucked into another part of her life than fight Vecna or be tortured by Russians. But it didn’t always feel like it.

“I have a husband,” she explained.

Ashley immediately wrinkled her nose and leaned back in her chair like Robin had just told her that she had the Black Death. “You mean that you led me on to help you cheat on someone?”

“No,” she shook her head. “He knows that I’m here and he supports it wholeheartedly-”

Robin had a whole spiel in her head that she always tried to use when she was telling dates this, but she almost never got it out all the way when they began to freak out. It turned out that it was going to be the same this time as it was every other time. Ashley leaned forward and spoke in a hushed voice so that none of the other patrons in the surrounding tables would be able to hear her as she said, “You know that lesbianism isn’t some gross kink for men, right? Some of us, such as myself, think that we can only be with women. I’m not going to sleep with you so that your husband can watch through your blinds or in your closet or something. That’s fucking disgusting.”

“You don’t understand,” Robin whimpered. She usually dropped it when the person she was talking to obviously wanted the conversation to end, but she had been really invested in the potential relationship she could have with Ashley. “It-it’s not like that. We’re not together romantically or sexually. We’re married and we love each other but he-he’s more like my platonic soulmate. It was like when the gods were making us or whatever he decided that I was going to love my best friend with my entire chest but only be interested in women and-”

Ashley cut her off again, “So he’s a beard? I’ve dated women like that before but it didn’t really work out.”

“No, he’s not a beard! He’s my husband,” Robin objected, frustrated. The idea of her husband only being her beard or something that was totally disposable once she found the right woman made her want to vomit. He was far more important to her than any romantic foray, so she decided that she was just going to take the hit and try again some other time. “I don’t think that this is going to work out. Thanks for trying, sorry for wasting your time.”

She fished out the proper amount of money and then set it on the table before she slung her purse over her shoulder and walked away. It was frustrating to have that happen over and over again, but she would always place her husband above any romantic or sexual encounters that she would have. It was hard to explain to people, especially with the limited vocabulary that still existed for queer people even in the mid-nineties, but it was very important to her that whatever future romantic partner she may have recognize that first and foremost, Steve was her husband.

#fanfiction #fanfic #writing #ao3 #archive of our own #stranger things #robin buckley #steve harrington #queerplatonic stobin #stobin #queerplatonic #aro #ace #aroace #aromantic #asexual #queer robin buckley #complex polyamory #qpp stobin

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katy-kt-katie · 2 years ago

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Mulder on the Witness Stand

Gift for @agent-troi for #XFSecretSanta2022

Prompt: MULDER IS ON THE STAND BEING CROSS-EXAMINED ABOUT SOME CASE AND SOMEHOW IT COMES UP THAT HE’S FORCED TO CONFESS HIS FEELINGS FOR SCULLY BECAUSE HE’S UNDER OATH.

CW: A big of Patriarchal Slut Shaming; Rated T

Betas: @tofuttim and Elise (Thank you)

Read on AO3: LINK; Love your comments or kudos if you liked it.

James A Byrne U.S. Federal Courthouse; Philadelphia, Pennsylvania

Scully sat quietly at the back of the packed courtroom; her shoulder nudged against Mulder’s.

“Defense calls Special Agent Fox Mulder to the stand,” a defense attorney in the front of the courtroom said loudly. Scully and Mulder had learned that this attorney, Rod Stancy, was one of the most cutthroat, aggressive defensive attorneys in Philly.

Scully turned to look at Mulder and he smiled just a bit, a reassuring grin that this will be okay.

Scully was a key witness against Sevlov Pudovkin, a Russian expatriate who turned out to be a con man working for the mafia. He was facing charges of extortion and credit fraud.

Scully had already testified to the exchange of money she saw in the back of the grocery store as well as the encounter she’d witnessed at the tattoo parlor. What happened with Ed Jerse was brought up too. Scully was embarrassed to answer questions about her night with Ed in Philadelphia several weeks ago. She managed to avoid answering most of it as she was a witness in his still pending prosecution.

They testified in cases often, but Mulder was surprised when he had received a note from the prosecutor yesterday, giving him notice that he might be called to testify as well. The prosecutor was unclear about what would be the nature of his questioning, since the defense planned to call Mulder and Mulder hadn’t worked this case.

Murder took the stand, raised his right hand, and was sworn in for testimony.

“Special Agent Mulder, please tell us about your role at the FBI,” Stancy said.

“I am an agent at the FBI, assigned to cases that may be, as of yet, unexplained or deemed unsolvable.”

“Thank you. Have you met Mr. Pudovkin before?” Stancy pointed toward his client at the defense table.

“Yes, I met him once, with my partner. He claimed to have information that could be helpful in a case. Those claims ended up being unsubstantiated.”

“You mentioned your partner,” Stancy said, “who is that?”

“Special Agent Dana Scully. She testified yesterday,” Mulder said, while looking at the jury box and smiling. “She ended up following Pudovkin to Philadelphia as I was ordered to take time off. She testified to witnessing the acts in question…”

“Agent Mulder,” Stancy cut him off, “I didn’t ask you about her testimony. We all heard that yesterday. I would like to ask you about Agent Scully though.”

“Okay,” Mulder smirked, confused.

What do they want to know about me , Scully wondered, nervously.

Snapping Scully back from her thoughts, Stancy continued. “How long have you known Agent Scully?”

“We met when we were assigned to work together, four years ago.” Mulder scanned the courtroom and found Scully’s eyes. He seemed anxious to talk about her. She smiled nervously and nodded. Letting him know it was okay.

“That seems like a good enough amount of time to get to know someone. Would you say you know Agent Scully pretty well?”

Mulder nodded. “Yes. Very well. The nature of our work requires it.”

“So then, Agent Mulder, answer this for me. Isn’t it true that Agent Scully was distracted by a man during her visit in Philadelphia? At the same time, she was supposedly witnessing these acts by my client, she was busy gallivanting around with this, Ed Jerse?”

Scully felt her face turn red with a mix of rage and incredible embarrassment.

“As Agent Scully indicated yesterday, his trial is still pending and so we can’t go into specifics about that case at this time.”

“That’s fine Agent Mulder, and I’m not planning to ask you details about Mr. Jerse’s case, but I do want to understand more about your partner and your knowledge of what she did while working the case against my client in Philadelphia."

"OBJECTION!” The prosecutor argued from her desk. “Agent Mulder can’t talk about this pending case.”

From the gallery, Scully’s eyes turned to Stancy as he spoke up in defense of his line of questioning, “Your honor, I would like to discuss Agent Scully’s actions, with Agent Mulder. I do not intend to dive into the Jerse case in any depth.”

The Judge nodded, “Okay, I’ll allow it. Let’s be careful threading that needle, Mr. Stancy.” He turned to the court reporter, “Mira, can you read Mr.Stancy’s question back to the court?”.

The court reporter piped up, “Mr. Stancy asked, ‘So then, Agent Mulder, answer this for me. Isn’t it true that Agent Scully was distracted by a man during her visit in Philadelphia? At the same time, she was supposedly witnessing these acts by my client, she was busy gallivanting around with this, Ed Jerse?’”

“She did meet a man, Ed Jerse,” Mulder said, factually.

“And this man has pending charges for murder, kidnapping and assault?” Stancy continued.

“That is true, Mr. Jerse is facing those charges,” Mulder said.

“And according to police reports, your partner Ms. Scully, was found in this man’s apartment, wearing nothing but his shirt…”

Scully could tell Mulder was getting annoyed and tried to jump in, “…Yes, but…”

Stancy held his hand up, indicating to Mulder to stop. Scully cringed. “So let me see if I have this straight, Agent Mulder. Your partner wants the jury to believe her account of what she supposedly saw my client doing. But at the same time, she’s meeting up with some random guy who is facing murder charges and she’s found prancing around his apartment half naked in his clothes.”

“OBJECTION, argumentative!”

At the same moment, Scully saw Mulder’s expression turn from displeasure to anger. He stood and started to yell, “Mr. Stancy, how dare you…”

The Judge intervened with a stern voice, “Agent Mulder, sit back down. You may answer Mr. Stancy’s question, calmly.”

Mulder grunted, clearly very irritated. Scully could not believe what was just said about her in a public courtroom, she leaned forward and hung her head in her hands.

“Mr. Stancy, how dare you sir. My partner’s personal choices and activities are not my business and certainly not yours. Are you shaming her personal intimate choices in a public courtroom? Because she is a woman? She is a federal agent, she is a medical doctor, she has saved countless people from violence and even death.”

Scully looked up from her hands, taken aback by Mulder’s defense of her. She knew he was disappointed by what had transpired in Philadelphia; that in some way it hurt him personally. But as he sat on the stand, he defended her vehemently; he had her back as always.

“Let’s not get dramatic Agent Mulder,” Stancy continued. “At the end of the day, you want us to trust her version of events. She doesn’t seem like a very trustworthy person. She doesn’t seem to have made good decisions while she was in Philadelphia.”

“I would trust Agent Scully with my life!” Mulder said, assertively. “In fact, I trust her more than any person on this planet on any day of the week, in any city, at any time.”

Scully smiled; she knew their partnership was built on a strong foundation of trust and despite what happened with Jerse, that foundation remained solid.

“Okay, Agent Mulder. You trust her. That’s clear. But let me ask you this; is this normal behavior for her? What she got into with Mr. Jerse?”

Scully saw Mulder pause, she knew he was considering his answer. The previous questions solicited explosive responses from him, but this one was confounding him a bit.

“No.It’s not normal. At least, I don’t think so.”

“What do you mean? You said you know her well?”

“I do know her well,” then he whispered to himself, repeating “I do.” He paused and fidgeted a bit on the stand. “It’s her life Mr. Stancy. It’s not up to me to know or judge what she does outside the scope of our work.”

Scully could see he was getting emotional. When they talked in their office after the Jerse case, it was clear to her that Mulder was struggling with concern for her as a person versus as a partner. The truth was, their lives had become so intrinsically entwined that when one of them did anything that seemed outside the norms of their partnership, it felt like an affront to their entire existence.

While she didn’t regret taking a chance and being spontaneous for once, she did regret that Jerse turned out to be the worst person to be spontaneous with; and most importantly she truly regretted how it seemed to hurt Mulder. Despite his pain, he sat on the stand and defended her and her right to privacy. Watching this man who had become her number one defender and protector, brought tears to her eyes.

“But we are to believe her version of events, even though she was clearly distracted and acting out of character at the time?”

“Yes, you are,” Mulder said calmly and directly.

“Why is that?” Stancy questioned with a ton of irritation.

“Agent Scully’s work at the FBI is beyond reproach,” Mulder paused and then speaking to the jury box this time, “Beyond reproach! She is the most honest, diligent, brilliant agent I’ve ever known. No one should ever question her work; she is as close to perfect as any human I’ve known.”

Scully gasped quietly. Just when she thought he couldn’t defend her more vigorously; her heart flooded with emotion. She’d known for a while that she loved Mulder in some kind of way, it appears the feelings are mutual.

Stancy wandered to the jury box, with intent to break the hold Mulder had on the jurors, “as close to perfect as any human you’ve known, huh, Agent Mulder?” Stancy said, placing his hand on the edge of the jury box as he shook his head and chuckled. “Sounds like you and Agent Scully may be even closer than I thought. Are you two in a relationship…outside of work?”

“OBJECTION, relevancy?” The prosecutor said.

The judge turned to Mr. Stancy.

“Just trying to understand the nature of this relationship sir. We need to understand it so the jury can make their decisions on the credibility of their testimony.”

“I’ll allow it,” the Judge said. “Agent Mulder, please answer the question.”

Stancy repeated the question to remind Mulder, although Scully assumed he hadn’t forgotten…she certainly hadn’t. “Are you two in a relationship…outside of work?”

Scully had gotten pretty good over the years at reading Mulder’s mind, so she was sure he’d say, “No. We are good friends.” Instead, he said:

“No, because partners aren’t allowed to pursue romantic relationships.”

She gasped again. For the second time, his eyes caught hers. He stared at her intensely and she blushed. What did that answer mean , she wondered. Does he mean, the only thing keeping them from pursuing a romantic relationship, in his mind, is this Bureau policy?

She’d been interested in him as more than a platonic partner for a while but didn’t think it was mutual. After all, he’d shown pretty clear interest in Detective White and Bambi, but never seemed to show any interest in Scully like that. Somewhere in the darkest corners of her heart, she knew part of her reasoning for pursuing Jerse was to see what kind of reaction it elicited out of Mulder. While he had seemed pained by what had transpired, it in no way moved them forward into a relationship.

“I don’t know about you Agent Mulder, but your voracity for defending her, when she was clearly making irrational decisions while in Philadelphia, is suspect. I’d ask the jury to consider what we’ve learned about Agent Scully when weighing her testimony.” Stancy paused for effect and then turned to the judge. “No further questions.”

The Judge indicated that the prosecutor could now question Mulder.

The prosecutor, herself a young woman, had seemed extra annoyed at Stancy’s line of questioning.

"Agent Mulder, as I see it, you have a partner whom you’ve worked with for years. You trust her implicitly and you feel her work is beyond reproach. You believe the jury should find her testimony credible because you believe her to be completely credible. Is that a fair recap?”

“Yes, that is correct,” Mulder said, proudly.

“Thank you, Agent Mulder, No further questions.”

“Mr. Mulder, you are dismissed,” the Judge said to him. Then turned to address the courtroom, “Court is adjourned until tomorrow at nine am.”

“Please Rise!” the bailiff said, as the Judge left the courtroom.

Mulder was stopped momentarily by the prosecutor before walking straight to Scully, grabbing her hand, and pulling her towards the door.

“Mulder...” she started to say.

“The prosecutor said we can go home. I want to get out of here, Scully,” he said, determined.

They walked in silence to their car. His hand still gripping hers.

When he reached the car, he let her go then abruptly slammed his fist into the roof of the sedan. “Damn it,” he growled.

Scully stared in surprise and began to reach for the handle to the passenger side to get in. He held his hand up indicating for her to stop. She saw him intentionally calm himself down, before walking around the hood of the car to her and grabbing her into a tight hug. His arms wrapped around her like he was clinging for his life.

They held the hug for a minute or two; Scully decided to break the silence. “Mulder?” she questioned, as her head was buried against his collarbone.

He pulled back and silently turned away, getting into the car and turning it on.

The Silence continued for a solid hour of their trek back to D.C. He seemed fueled with energy, but his demeanor towards her was soft and sweet, smiling gently whenever she’d catch his eye. She was replaying his testimony in her head and was sure he was too, as several times the silence was broken by him growling to himself or sighing.

Finally, as their car was passing over the Chesapeake Bay, he broke the silence.

“I’m so sorry Scully. That was so unfair. You should never have your character called into question. That man is a total asshat.”

Scully started to cry. She worked so hard on keeping her emotions from Mulder; to not let him see any sign of weakness, but it just hit her. She reached into her purse for a tissue.

“Oh Scully,” he said, reaching over with one hand to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. “Don’t cry. It’s okay. You are okay. We are okay.”

“Mulder, I’m so sorry for everything that has happened as a result of what I did with Jerse. I’m sorry if I hurt you,” she blew her nose. The crying was slowing down now that she was talking.

He grabbed her hand over the console and gave it a squeeze.

“Mulder the way you defended my character…thank you. You always have my back.”

Still holding her hand, he started stroking little circles on the outside of her hand. “Scully, you are worth defending and furthermore everything I said is true. It’s none of my business what you do in your personal time and your character and work as an agent are beyond reproach.”

She sighed and let go of his hand, patting him gently on the thigh twice before returning her hand to her lap. Silence befell the car again for several miles. Now she was replaying this emotional conversation they’d just had. How her Mulder was here for her again.

“Mulder you know I feel the same way, I’d always defend you; your character, your heart.”

“I know you would Scully,” he said smiling, eyes on the road.

She was struck by how much this man who was her perfect opposite was also her perfect protector. Then her mind thought about how he surprised her with his answer about a romantic relationship between them. How could she not want more with this man that was everything to her.

“Mulder, I have to ask you something. You said the reason we aren’t in a relationship together is because Bureau rules forbid it.”

“Yeah,” he said, seeming to grow suddenly cautious. She felt an energy shift in the car.

“Mulder, I'm sorry for asking about this, but I was shocked by that answer. Maybe I’m reading too much into it…but…is that the only reason?” She whispered, “I mean, would a relationship with me be something you would want if the bureau didn’t prevent it?”

He tossed his head back against the headrest, seeming to think; he sighed. She felt like looking at him while he thought about it, but at this moment it was too intense and oddly private. She turned to look out the window.

“Scully…I…” he paused. She turned to look at him. “Any man would want a relationship with you. You are beautiful, smart and loyal, among so many other things.”

“First of all, that’s categorically untrue, all men are not interested in me,” she scoffed, breaking the ice a little. “But Mulder, I’m asking about you. Are you interested? Just tell me. It won’t hurt my feelings.”

She reached for his hand, mirroring his earlier action. He gripped it tightly and sighed.

“Yeah Scully, of course I’m interested in you. I always thought that was obvious. But, even if you are interested in me, we can’t do it. They’ll split us as partners and our partnership…” he turned to look into her eyes briefly. “It means everything to me.”

“Me too,” she said, softly.

“You too what? You are…” he whispered the words, “interested in me or you value our partnership?”

“Both,” she sighed. Moving her hand from his hand and gently stroking his arm, from his foreman to his bicep and back.

The car fell quiet again for a moment, the familiar sights of Georgetown coming into view.

“I could keep it a secret, if we ever wanted to try, you know…more.” She moved her hands back to her lap and fidgeted nervously with her fingernails. There it is , she thought, I’ve laid it on the table as an option .

“Scully,” he paused and smiled at her. “But just look at what I had to do today, what If I’m asked on the record about it. Would we lie?”

“You handled it perfectly, we would just state the bureau policy, deflecting…”

“…And if that didn’t work?” he asked.

“I don’t know,” she sighed and looked at him, tears in her eyes again, “but I know we could figure it out, together.”

He smiled and reached across the console and placed his hand on her thigh, not in an act of passion but in an act of intimacy. It felt like a sign that he was open to trying for something more with her. She placed her hand on top of his and he interlaced their fingers.

They pulled up to her apartment building and Mulder released her hand only to put the car in park. He reached back down and grabbed her hand again, pulling it to his mouth to kiss each knuckle.

She sighed happily and before she could catch her breath he was leaning across the console. She leaned towards him, and their lips met, his lips felt warm and soft and she immediately felt a spark and knew kissing was another thing they were meant to do exceptionally well together.

She wanted to make her intentions clear; this was not just a friendly kiss, so she gently pushed her tongue against his lips asking for access to him, which he granted. He moaned quietly as their tongues met before she pulled away.

She placed her hand on his chest, creating a modicum of distance between them. “Thank you for today; for defending me, and for always telling me the truth.” She stood to get out of the car, before leaning back down to briefly catch his eyes. “Maybe you could ask me out sometime?”

He smiled and she giggled, grabbing her bag, and heading into her apartment by herself, but not feeling alone; never alone when Mulder had her back.

#XFSecretSanta2022 #today-in-fic #todayinfic #the x files #mulder and scully #fox mulder #dana scully #ed jerse #first kiss

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