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atinylittlepain · 11 months

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June - Part One

joel miller x f!OC

series masterlist

warnings | 18+ dark themes surrounding suicidal ideation and attempt, eventual smut, angst

a/n | well, I'm a bit nervous to share this one. as I mentioned before, this is going to be quite different than anything I have put out before. Each part is going to be much shorter than my usual fare - anywhere from 2K to 2.5K. Again, please take care reading this, I am touching on very tender topics. I also need to thank @wannab-urs and @jksprincess10 and @beskarandblasters for supporting me through writing this, so much gratitude for you both.

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Cheer up, honey, I hope you can

There is something wrong with me

My mind is filled with silvery stars

Honey, kisses, clouds of fog

"Radio Cure" by Wilco

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She’s a difficult woman. When she wants to be. And he supposes she does. He supposes she’s angry at him. She had made that clear enough. He had taken something from her, a choice, an escape, a way out. But she had taken it from him too. They hold each other’s lives between their teeth, waiting for the other to bite down, to show mercy, to bleed out.

They won’t let her go outside the gates anymore, no patrol shifts. And they have her staying with one of the doctors in town, a watchful eye. From what he’s heard, it isn’t going well. From what he sees, it isn’t going well. Joel isn’t sleeping these days because she isn’t either. He follows her, a shadow, not daring to get too close lest she decides to snap at his presence.

Most nights, she circles her cage like a despondent animal, fingertips running along the wall that keeps her from doing it again. And he follows after her, willing her to turn over her shoulder, to look at him, to offer him anything. He would take anything she’s willing to give.

And then he does something to upset her even more. It comes up between him and his brother on patrol. The doctor she’s staying with is at her wit’s end with her. Coming and going at strange hours, silent and snarling. So he offers up the spare room in his house and suddenly she’s stomping up his porch with a backpack and a scowl.

“What exactly are you trying to do?” He has to admit, it’s a good question. One he’s not sure of the answer to.

“You need somewhere to stay, and I have the space.”

“Because your kid doesn’t want to live here anymore?”

“She ain’t my kid.”

“Yeah right.” He’s just content to have her looking at him again, even if she is trying to dig her claws in. But her eyes flicker away fast.

“It’s only for a month. Then they’re gonna let me have my apartment back.” “Whatever you say, June. Your room is upstairs, second door on the–”

“It’s not fair, you know.” “What’s that?”

“The only difference between you and I is that I got caught. And now I’m stuck in a fucking cage. You may have played hero, but I know why you were out there.” She doesn’t give him a chance to respond, shouldering past him into the house and trudging upstairs.

For the first time since Ellie left, he starts cooking. Mostly because she’s not eating. Or at least he never sees her eating, no trips to the dining hall, and she only passes through the kitchen to get upstairs. So he starts cooking, albeit simply, leaving plates outside her closed door, happy to see them cleared in the morning. His pants start fitting better again, belt not done on the tightest notch anymore. And he’d like to think she starts looking different too, a little brighter after a few weeks of square meals.

She doesn’t wander at night anymore. He’s always waiting on the porch to see her come home. She’s even started to mutter a low goodnight when she passes him to go inside, something beating and flickering inside his ribs when she does.

He knows from Maria that she’s started working at the garden, and one night she comes home with a basket, a few ears of corn, pale and silky in their husks, and strawberries bright enough to make his mouth water. She sets the basket down at his feet, her eyes not meeting his, though she gives him a curt nod before going inside, the light click of the screen door shaking him out of his stupor.

Sliced into bleeding slivers, how Sarah liked them, with a drizzle of honey where he would have sprinkled sugar, how Sarah liked them. But instead of setting the bowl down outside her door, he decides to knock, and she decides to let him in.

They sit on the edge of the bed, close enough to hold the bowl between them, their fingers staining sticky from the sweet syrup of the treat, saccharine singing down their throats. And when all the berries are gone, they pass the bowl back and forth, lapping up any remaining sweetness, mouths smacking with want. Her lips are red, swollen from the way she licks at them to chase up what’s left of the taste, and his eyes dart from them to her temple, a much darker red, still healing, still raised and scabbed.

“Stop looking at it.”

“I’m not.” “Yes, you are. Everyone does.”

“You wanna look at mine?” Her eyes widen, and he’s already turning his head, running a finger along the sliver on his temple.

“You–”

“I missed, just like you.”

“But you weren’t gonna miss this time, were you?”

“No, I wasn’t. I’m glad you did though.” It’s the exact wrong thing to say, and he can see the way she shuts down, furling back in on herself, turning away from him, covering the side of her face with her palm.

“Goodnight, Joel.” A long sigh, slipping through his fingers.

“Goodnight, June.”

…

At the end of the month, she doesn’t leave. There is no conversation about it. She simply doesn’t leave. And Joel has to swallow down his elation at that.

Soon, her baskets laid at his feet turn into her helping him in the kitchen. They settle into silent rhythms, hips bumping as fat sizzles in the pan, the dull chop of vegetables and the savory sear of meat cooking. They eat together on the back porch, sitting side by side, taking in the lingering light of summer as they fill their bellies. An act that promises permanence. Her scar is quickening, new skin, new, new, new. And when he reaches out for her, his fingers skating over that arced line, she lets him.

“Can I see yours again?” A nod, a tilt of his head, and a shiver when her fingers press over his scar.

“I’m glad you missed, Joel.” She kisses angry, her fingers curling in his hair, swallowing up his groan when she tugs too hard. All teeth, nipping, clicking against his, and he wants more, more, more. He goes greedy with it, hands pulling at clothes, pressing her closer, as close as he can, pulling her into his lap and she’s warm, sharp, softening her snarl only slightly when he licks into her mouth. But she’s gone in a flash, pulling away with a gasp, stumbling down the porch steps, all but falling onto her ass as she wipes at her mouth with the back of her hand, eyes wild and wide. And Joel aches because he had her, he had her, and it felt so good and she’s already snapping back and away.

“I– I’m sorry, June.” She doesn’t offer him anything else, darting past him and back inside. He sits there, slack, long after the sun dips down below the mountains, a shiver setting on him in the chill of the night.

But she stays. She gets quiet again, cagey, no longer eating with him, only clipped greetings when they pass each other. But she stays.

He’d like to say something, anything, but in the fleeting moments he sees her, he finds himself choking on words, his throat constricting and she’s already gone. So it’s a surprise when one day, she comes home and wordlessly sits down next to him on the porch. He doesn’t move, barely even breathes, a hummingbird beat away from her disappearing.

“Why doesn’t your kid live with you anymore?”

“She ain’t my–”

“Fine, why doesn’t not your kid live with you anymore?” An inhale and an exhale, he has to clear his throat before he answers.

“I lied to her. And did a lot of things she didn’t agree with.”

“Why’d you do that?”

“I was trying to protect her.”

“Did you?”

“Did I what?” “Protect her?”

“I suppose I did. Reckon if this is the price I have to pay– for her to be safe– I’m fine with that.”

“Is that why you were out there that night?”

“Yes.” She hums at that, the both of them still looking straight ahead. He can feel the warmth of her from where her thigh rests so close to his.

“Why haven’t you tried again?” He finally breaks, turning his head to squint at her, her eyes finding his.

“What do you mean?”

“They don’t think you’re crazy. Not like me. Nobody would blink twice if you went back out there. So why haven’t you tried again?” It’s pure curiosity, no emotion behind her question, an honest and open desire to know.

“Because I’ve been busy keeping you from trying again.” It’s not the truth, at least not the whole of it, and he can tell she knows it, her lips curling into a smile. She’s just as good at this game as he is.

“Can I see yours?” Her hair has grown out more from where they had to shave it, and she has to tuck some of it back to show him the full line of her scar, still dark and jagged. He’s not sure if she’ll flinch, jerk away if he reaches out, but it’s a relief when she doesn’t, pressing her temple into the cup of his palm.

“I’m sorry, Joel.”

“Nothing to be sorry for, June.” He hopes that if he moves slower this time, only taking what she gives, that she won’t pull away. And she doesn’t, letting his lips brush against hers, a fluttering little thing. He swears he can hear it, something cracking in his chest, ribs breaking to make room for this new swell of warmth as she presses her lips to his again, a little more certain, a little more insistent. Her hand comes to rest at the collar of his shirt, fingers curling into the fabric when he sweeps his tongue along her bottom lip, a question that she responds to in kind, opening up to him with a sweet sigh.

Sweet, sweet, sweet. No snap, no snarl, just a simple slip of her mouth pressed to his. He’s going to have to ration it, this sweetness, willing himself to pull away before she spooks. His hand is on hers, and her hand is on his, thumbs sweeping, back and forth, back and forth, tracing the secret they share.

“You hungry?”

“Not really.”

“Do you want to make dinner?”

“Okay.”

She’s always not really hungry. He knows by now that it means nothing. And sure enough, he has to hide a smile when she pockets a perfect cherry tomato in her cheek as they start on dinner.

“There's extra blankets in that closet if you need them. Since it’s getting colder at night and all.” Dinner had been a silent volley of glances, punctuated by long sighs. And now, standing in the hallway, somewhere between his own room and where she’s standing in front of hers, Joel feels completely adrift.

“Okay, thank you. I think there’s a draft in my window actually. It’s been cold in there these last few nights.”

“I’ll trade for some caulk tomorrow. Get that fixed for you.” Something passes over her face, a quick fall that he finds his mind hurrying to figure out. Oh, oh.

“Would you– my room is plenty warm. I can take the couch.”

“I don’t want you to take the couch.”

“Okay.”

He’s already under the covers when she pads into his room, wearing a large sweater and a pair of leggings.

“Are you really that cold?” “I run cold.” He has to bite back a laugh at that, simply nodding, keeping his hands clasped over his chest as she slips into bed on the other side. She’s quick about it, rolling onto her side, facing away from him and tugging the sheets up to her chin.

He tries, he really does, his hands itching in resistance. It feels like a leap, a moment of freefall when he reaches across the mattress, settling his hand on her shoulder. But she catches him, bringing her palm to rest over his, fingers furling in a gentle tug. Come closer, I will not bite, I will not run, not this time.

The gap is closed with a simple curl of his arm over her waist, his chest slipping snug against her back, rising and falling in time with her thrumming ribs.

“Your feet are really cold.”

“I’m sorry, I told you.”

“That’s okay, June. I don’t mind.”

#joel miller #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x reader #tlou #tlou fanfiction #joel miller x you #joel miller angst #the last of us #joel miller fluff #joel miller x oc #joel miller smut #joel miller series #joel miller fic

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pink-sparkly-witch · 9 months

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The One That Got Away - Chapter Two

Warnings: angst, one small use of mild language, mentions of casual sex.

Word Count: 1.8k

Pairing: Firefighter!Dean Winchester x Female Reader

A/N: A little break from the heavier warnings in this one. I didn’t have a beta for this, so all mistakes are mine.

You can catch up here!

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Dean knew in his gut that the fire in the old bowling alley hadn’t been an accident. Damn, I’m good at this job! he thought with a smirk. He headed down the corridor and went to the office to talk to the Chief about last night's inferno and the fact that he had proof the building owner had purposely started the blaze to claim the insurance.

He slowed his steps, and his heartbeat picked up when he heard Bobby talking on the phone. He didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but there was something in the Chief’s tone that was familiar even though he hadn’t heard it in a long time.

“Maybe…” the older man sighed, “maybe it’s time to come home.”

No, it can’t be! Dean thought. There is no way on earth that Bobby’s on the phone to…

“That’s all I’m asking, Princess,” It was her. There was only one person Bobby called princess - at least affectionately - and it was the same one he did.

Y/N.

Dean stepped into the doorway, his head cocked to one side, and he frowned expectantly. Expectant of what he hadn’t quite figured out yet. He knew he wasn’t owed anything from Y/N or Bobby. Still, he watched intently as the Chief’s eyes widened at his appearance in the doorway, and his heart dropped at the thought of Bobby kicking him out of the office. Instead, the Chief raised his hand in an ‘enter’ gesture.

“I, uh- I gotta go. I’ll call you later. I love you,” Bobby returned the phone to its cradle and leaned back in his chair.

“Everything alright, Chief?” Dean couldn’t help but ask. Bobby nodded, and Dean knew it was none of his business but pushed anyway.

“Was that her?” He could’ve cursed himself for how desperate he sounded, even after all this time. Bobby nodded again, his eyes softening, and gestured for Dean to sit.

“Danny’s in a hospice. His liver and heart are failing, and he has severe brain damage. The doctor says he’s only got about three months. She deserves to know.” Bobby grumbled, and Dean nodded.

“She does,” he said, turning his gaze to the window, unsure if he should ask or even had the right to. “How is she?”

“She’s good. I planted a seed about coming home. We’ll see if it takes root. She’s settled there, you know? She has a good job and a good life which she deserves. But this could change everything, son.”

Dean nodded again, not trusting his words and not wanting to get his hopes up. He was never one to be on the right side of good luck or fate, and he didn’t see why that should change now.

“You’ll be the first to know, Dean. Well, after Jody, of course,” Bobby grinned at the slight smirk he got from Dean. “Now, what can I do for you, Captain?”

Dean’s head was spinning with the afternoon’s turn of events. Danny was dying, and Y/N might be coming home. He’d never gotten over her. Couldn’t or wouldn’t, well, that was the million-dollar question. He scoffed as he opened his fridge and pulled out a beer.

Y/N had been the love of his life. He was pretty sure she still was. He knew she would’ve stayed if he’d asked her to, and she would’ve happily gone to the University of Kansas, but he didn’t. He couldn’t, and it was a decision he’d regretted every day. One he could still feel breaking his heart to this day, and Dean swore if he could go back in time, he would, and he’d ask her to stay.

No one could compare to her. It’s why none of his relationships had worked out. Cassie, Anna, Lisa… they weren’t Y/N, and Dean couldn’t get past that. He tried, he really did, but once Dean saw their flaws and imperfections, it couldn’t be unseen, and whatever feelings he had for them had disappeared quickly, fizzling into nothing. That was when he knew it would only be a matter of time until he broke their hearts.

So, Dean took solace in the only thing that didn’t make him feel like a complete asshat for playing with people’s emotions: one-night stands. There were no obligations or commitments or the chance to catch feelings. He could have a fun night and go home, no strings attached. And it worked for a while.

He could take seeing Y/N’s face beneath him every time he slept with a girl. It was what got him through it sometimes. It was Y/N’s body that his hands were running over. It was her soft, supple skin he could feel under his palms and her smiling up at him, not the woman he was with.

Y/N’s big, beautiful eyes would shine with awe and adoration as she gazed up at him with lust-blown pupils. Her stunning hair fanned out on the pillow below her. Dean couldn’t even guess how often he saw Y/N under him rather than who he was with. But something had changed in him a year ago, and he’d started to notice the girls getting younger. Or maybe he was just getting older?

One night he’d been looking for a pretty girl to let off some steam with. All the women who looked around his age were with someone already or sporting a ring. Of course, their younger counterparts were just as pretty, and he quickly zoned in on an attractive woman at the bar.

Flirting had always come naturally to him, and he had her eating out of the palm of his hand in no time. She was attractive, but Dean found, for the first time, that her personality was distinctly lacking, and her outlook on life made her younger age glaringly obvious.

He had glanced around the bar for another potential companion for the night but only saw young, rowdy, desperate girls who couldn’t handle their liquor, and they held no appeal to him. At some point, he’d have entertained them. He’d probably even have found them ‘cute’ at one time, but not now.

He realised for the second time that night that these were things that had never bothered him before, but now even the mere thought of talking to them made his half-hard dick go limp. So, he turned his attention back to Stacey, or was it Stephanie? and continued to woo her until he accepted her invitation to get out of there.

Dean left her place in the wee hours of the morning, unsatisfied and still wanting. He’d brought out his A-Game and had her screaming his name and writhing in pleasure during foreplay. As soon as he was inside her, though, she became static and just… lay there, spread-eagled, and left him to it. Her moans and clenching heat told him she was enjoying herself; she just happily took everything from him, let him do all the work, and gave nothing in return.

He suddenly sympathised with every woman who’d ever faked an orgasm to make lousy sex end quickly. Even he seriously thought about faking it to get out of there fast. But, if there was one thing Dean Winchester would never do, it would be to leave a woman unsatisfied. So, he grabbed her legs, pushed them up until her knees rested on her shoulders, and pounded hard and deep until her quivering and clenching walls triggered his release.

And so ended Dean Winchester’s playboy ways. He’d taken a couple of girls home since then, but it was after Stephanie… Stacey? Or was it Sarah? that he was no longer interested in desperate, inexperienced girls who couldn’t handle their alcohol. The two he’d had since were closer to him in age and experience and had personalities that didn’t make him groan internally.

Dean knew he shouldn’t get his hopes up that Y/N might come home. It had been so long, and they were different people now. She might even have a boyfriend in Chicago for all he knew about her now. His biggest regret was that he didn’t ask her to stay, and now his mind was in overdrive, thinking about what he’d do if she did come back.

He needed to talk to her. That much was clear. If Y/N was single and still had feelings for him, he knew he wanted to try again with her. If she didn’t, well, maybe it’d be the closure he needed to move on and finally settle down.

Bobby said she had a good life up there, so them trying again depended entirely on her returning permanently. Or did it? And that begged the question: if she only came home to care for her father and had every intention of returning to Chicago when he died and they hit it off again, would he go there with her?

Yes. Dean couldn’t watch her walk away from him again. It damn near killed him the first time and would surely succeed the second. He grabbed another beer from the fridge and sighed heavily.

Why am I even thinking like this? I don’t even know if she’s coming back yet, and I’m planning our future!

Shaking his head in frustration at himself, he picked up his phone and called his best friend and confidant. He needed someone to tell him he was acting crazy. He needed to say all of this aloud, talk it through and try to make sense of it.

“Hey, Dean. Everything okay?” Benny greeted.

“Hey, Benny. Yeah, I need to vent if you’ve got the time,” Dean replied.

“Of course I do. What’s going on?”

“You remember Y/N, right? My childhood sweetheart?”

“Come on, Dean! We both know she was much more than that to you.”

“Yeah, she was. Is,” Dean corrected himself. “Bobby told me her father’s not doing good. There’s a chance she’s coming home.”

“I’ll be right over,” Benny responded.

“Thanks, man, I appreciate it.”

Three hours, six beers and several rambling confessions later, Dean felt lighter and grateful he would get some sleep before heading into his next twenty-four hour shift. He was glad Benny had come around. Dean listened to everything Benny had to say and even helped him figure out some of the things Dean didn’t have answers to yet. The confirmation that he wasn’t crazy helped too.

Although Benny agreed that Dean was getting ahead of himself, he’d encouraged Dean to talk it all through so he could prepare for all outcomes. Dean couldn’t fault his best friend's logic and talked through everything he had running through his mind: the good, the bad and the ugly.

As Dean brushed his teeth and changed for bed, he felt prepared for whatever way this panned out, whether that was with or without Y/N Y/L/N. He hoped it was with her, but the chances were it would only be temporary if she did come home.

Next Chapter >>

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#the one that got #firefighter!dean winchester x reader #au dean winchester x reader #tw: child abuse #tw: alcoholism #tw: physical abuse #tw: verbal abuse #firefighter!dean winchester #dean winchester x reader

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randomfoggytiger · 14 days

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The Scully Family In-Depth (Part XIV): When Nature Turns So Cruel

Leading into the cancer arc, Scully begins to grapple with the bigger questions: her place in Mulder's life, and what she wants that place to be.

In Season 4, not only does Mulder express himself more openly-- crying on her shoulder for the first time in Herrenvolk, voicing his fantasy of a better life in Home, relying on her completely in Teliko, anguishing over soulmates in The Field Where I Died, hugging her proudly in Terma, leaning on her solely in Paper Hearts-- but the cases themselves no longer bear a passing resemblance: they directly mirror her current experiences. It creates an inescapable glass to look into and constantly compare with: which decisions led her here, and how (and if) she can escape them.

The files are Scully's job, but her loyalty lies with Mulder (her vow in Tooms proves that quite clearly); and insecurity over that loyalty harkens back to her childhood dynamic with the late Captain Scully: "There are other fathers," she tells Ed Jerse darkly in Never Again.

However. I wanted to focus this analysis on the slowly begun but quickly ended arc supplanted by Never Again and the events after Memento Mori.

THE HEART OF THE HOME

Home is a complex episode, factoring in not only Scully’s family dynamics but Mulder’s as well (to be discussed at length another time.)

After the closeted baby autopsy, Scully and Mulder walk out of the sheriff’s department just as a happy family and their giggly baby stroll by. Scully’s first remarks, however, are filtered out through the lens of mangled hopes and cruel twists of life.

“Imagine how a woman’s hopes and dreams for her child, and then Nature turns so cruel. What must a mother go through?” she ruminates in a distanced tone, indicating that this is the first time she's given serious thought to the subject.

What must a mother go through particularly stands out: Scully hadn’t forayed into these maternal or domestic waters before, it seems-- working hard to achieve medical school, then a doctor’s degree, then recruitment, then field agent with the FBI’s best and brightest. In The Jersey Devil, she was shown to be good with kids; but it was Ellen who pushed her towards planning the next step, and Scully who stated she’d need a man first. So, Dana Scully is over three years in on the files with at least three relationships under her belt (discounting Ethan Minette and whatever she and Mulder have) but still hadn’t paused to ponder or plan what motherhood and its hopes and dreams would hold for her… until today. And to have this brought to her attention now, during these dire circumstances, hits closer to home than Scully would like.

“Apparently not much in this case if she’d just throw it out with the trash,” Mulder counters, quietly waiting for his partner’s response when she maintains eye contact while slowly sitting down.

Scully remains/is momentarily silent, sorting through the real reason this case and these hopes are so impactful.

“I guess I was just… projecting on myself,” she admits-- vulnerably honest.

Mulder is immediately puzzled and concerned-- and his first question isn’t 'You want kids?' but instead, “Why, is there a history of genetic abnormalities in your family?” It’s a blend of his usual curiosity, morbid fascination, and something else.

Scully picks up on that something else, “No”ing his question softly and staring at him with more personal interest.

He then gives her a crack-- “Well, just find yourself a man with a spotless genetic makeup and a really high tolerance for being second-guessed and start pumping out the little uber scullies”-- a smile, and a light backrub to soothe away any lingering worries.

In a turnabout equal to an Olympic gold medalist, Scully twists the question around on him: “What about your family?”

“Hm?” Mulder responds, testing to see if his nonanswer will shake her off his tail.

It doesn’t: Scully remains locked onto his face, expecting a straight answer. One might say, needing one.

“Well, aside from the need for corrective lenses and the tendency to be abducted by extraterrestrials--” here Scully turns away, grinning to herself over Mulder’s Mulderness reasserting itself, “--involved in an international governmental conspiracy--” here a shade of disappointment passes over her face, “--the Mulder family passes genetic muster,” here he finishes, adding a comedic muscle flex to farm a smile from his partner.

She smiles, soaking in his unspoken subtext.

In his own way, Mulder has stated exactly where he stands: he can fantasize about settling down in a place like Home, tease her about pumping out the uber scullies, even include his family genetics in with the joke, but all under the context of hypotheticals. Mulder can’t have a normal life until he’s righted the wrongs of his past, saved the world, and gotten the girl. (It’s not until The Unnatural and Amor Fati that he finds "the mystery of the heart" and "another life, another world" can coincide with this one.) Most importantly, Mulder himself is not ready: playing with a baseball while she takes notes, bantering about family history while Scully turns reflectively inward, planning for unreachable hypotheticals (with her in them, yes, but unreachable all the same), and joking them both out of more dangerous, personal topics they've yet to address.

Scully is amused at his antics; but she is also searching for something from him he can’t (she assumes) provide. It’s wisest not to take his oddities or indiscretions personally, to smile over his endless unquenchable, unattached zest for life; but there is a loneliness-- one that is a choice-- that feels isolating, that leads her to question her own choices and outcomes (i.e. Never Again, Milagro, all things.) “You are Ahab”, she told him once on a rock; and her self-inflicted sacrifices to that cycle (posts here and here) stem back to being Captain William Scully, Sr.’s best first mate-- “There are other fathers”, after all.

Mulder watches her closely; and, sensing her withdrawal, opens up, revealing that he does, indeed, understand more than he lets on.

“Scully, that child inside is a tragedy." It's a simple statement spoken with feeling; and Scully responds to it.

But his theory over young, scared kids abandoning their unwanted child switches her gears; and she pivots their conversation quickly into her disagreements.

For the second time, family talk pops up in Mayberry.

Scully, having wrapped up the adult conversation for the night, glances over at her boy-in-a-thiry-some-year-old-body partner wrangling with the fuzzy tv set, smiling in spite of herself.

At her approach, Mulder puts distance between them-- but not because of romantically blurred lines, no, no; but because she might mess with the static on his chosen channel.

Thoroughly unimpressed, Scully cracks, “You still planning on making a home here?”

“Not if I can’t get the Knicks game,” he deflects, pointing the antennae carefully at her forehead for maximum kid antics.

Having had enough for the night, she walks off. “Well, just as long as brutal infanticide doesn’t weigh into your decision.”

He picks up on, and is annoyed by, her undercurrent of condescension, shooting a “Goodnight, Mom,” parting shot.

Scully is pulled up short, her eyes asking if he’d said what he’d said and challenging him to repeat it. Mulder turns away-- not interested in further petty sniping but refusing to give up the ground he’s gained.

She doesn’t call his bluff, deciding to drop further antagonism and just go to bed.

However, there is a snag.

“Mulder, this lock is broken,” she says, head down as she fidgets it back and forth.

Her partner whips back around, lowering his arms for the first time in a defensive, attentive position. He plays it off with a joke-- “You don’t have to lock your doors around here”-- and Scully buys it; but his posture reflects how aware he is of the sudden lack of boundaries in this cozy, folksy, family-livin’ town.

After she shuts the door behind her, Mulder doesn’t stop looking at the lock (visibly weighing his options by stretching out the antenna.) Blinking away his thoughts, he moves quickly over to the table, grabbing and wedging a chair under the opportunity of temptation.

If that’s not symbolism for the next few years for Scully, I don’t know what else is.

The third mention of family-- specifically, of Scully’s family-- occurs in the Peacocks’ field.

“There some secret farmer trick to gettin’ these things moving?” Mulder grunts, giving another forceful shove against the mountain of pigs they have to move.

“I don’t know,” she whispers, exasperated, before receiving a stroke of genius. “Na ram you!” she warbles, louder for the second, “Na ram you!”

“Yeah, that’ll work,” Mulder pipes from behind a particularly large hog.

“I babysat my nephew this weekend,” she explains, applying more force to the hind quarters in front of her. “He watches Babe fifteen times a day.”

“And people call me ‘Spooky’.”

Besides a cameo in Beyond the Sea, this is the first canonical reference Scully has made to her nephew. Although there was a profound lack of show bible on The X-Files, the details-- or lack thereof-- that they retained are interesting to gnaw on.

As discussed in the previous parts here and here, Scully’s two brothers were at her father’s funeral with their wives; but as we know in A Christmas Carol, Bill Scully has yet to have children (unless one got bushwacked and we were never told.) If that’s the case, then nephew Scully has to be Charlie’s boy… which leaves the other boy at the funeral unaccounted for. (Is he Forgotten Nephew? Step Nephew? Who knows?)

Once inside the house, Mulder zeroes in on an Elvis Presley article and Mrs. Peacock’s skid marks while Scully pieces together who Mrs. Peacock is-- another example of their disparate frequencies.

“Mrs. Peacock?” Scully begins. “Mrs. Peacock… you are in immediate need of medical attention. Agent Mulder and I are here to help you.”

“This is our home! Why leave it?”

After the argument for medical attention leads them nowhere, Mrs. Peacock stares into the middle distance, fondly (and a bit lustfully) talking about her sons. “They’re such good boys.”

“Mrs. Peacock, they murdered Sheriff Taylor and his wife. And Deputy Pastor.”

Fired up, Mrs. Peacock rebukes, “I can tell you don’t have no children.”

Scully withdraws, a mixture of stinging confusion and horrified disgusts playing across her face.

“Maybe one day you’ll learn,” the matriarch continues, “the pride. The love. When you know your boy would do anything for his mother.”

Disgust outweighing everything, Scully looks away and licks her lips to compose herself.

Then the boys break in; and chaos ensues.

There is no resolution here about family for Mulder and Scully, the topic and undertones being dropped in favor of a death brawl and subsequent escape. But mothers and their children, death and loss ties very neatly into her and her mom's conversation in Memento Mori. Nature’s cruel twists of life, uh, find a way.

REMEMBER DEATH

While not tangentially related to the Scully family, her opening monologue in Memento Mori sets the stage for Scully's equal parts reticence and openness in the cancer arc, culminating in the interactions between her, Maggie, and Bill in Gethsemane and both Redux episodes.

"For the first time I feel time like a heartbeat. The seconds pumping in my breast like a reckoning. The ruminous mysteries that once seemed so distant and unreal threatening clarity in the presence of a truth entertained not in youth, but only in it's passage.' I feel these words as if their meaning were weight being lifted from me, knowing that you will read them and share my burden as I have come to trust no other. That you should know my heart, look into it, finding there the memory and experience 'that belong to you, that are you, is a comfort to me now as I feel the tethers loose and the prospects darken for a continuance of a journey that began not so long ago, and which began again with a faith shaken and strengthened by your convictions. If not for which I might never have been so strong now as I cross to face you and look at you incomplete, hoping that you will forgive me for not making the rest of the journey with you."

Scully is diagnosed with brain cancer; and calls Mulder to jump headlong into an investigation regarding the dying MUFON women she’d met last year-- all without calling her mother or family first. We find out in Gethsemane that she hadn’t wanted any of her family told, and are left to assume Maggie found out only because of how debilitating Dr. Scanlon’s chemo treatment was expected to be. Their confrontation here is extremely telling: it reveals how much Maggie relies on her daughter, how aware Scully is of this, and how the chasm between them begins to grow as Scully attempts to always be her mother’s “strong one.”

Scully tells Mulder she needs him to bring over her travel bag and “to call my mother and ask her to bring up some things to the hospital.”

Thus enters Maggie: hurt and angry and terrified. “Dana!” she greets, soft and breathless.

“Hi, Mom,” Scully responds, her voice younger as she slips back into mother-daughter comfortability.

Overwhelmed, her mother waits until Scully introduces her to Dr. Scanlon, then begins rambling. “I drove,” she explains, trying to disguise the shake in her voice by talking a bit faster. “I was gonna take the shuttle but it’s only an hour or more by car. Can you imagine?” Dropping off her bag, Maggie draws back to her daughter’s bedside while nervously fiddling with her ear and sniffling.

“Mom, I’m fine,” Scully assures.

At that, Maggie’s face drops-- perhaps relief, perhaps fury at Scully’s denial. Or both.

“I’m going to be fine-- I’m just here for treatment,” Dana continues, gracefully gliding over the change of expression. When Dr. Scalon announces his departure, she gives him a tight, polite smile, well-trained and mannered even in a crisis.

Maggie, however, doesn’t react, letting the man pass without so much as a cursory glance over.

The two Scully women are alone; and Dana shifts her eyes away, then drops her head, steels her shoulders, and lifts her eyes back up to Maggie, anticipating a storm. And she's right.

“Mom, I know what you’re gonna say, but… I don’t have any experience being sick,” she stalls, knowing her mother’s wrath is coming in hot.

Maggie remains silent, taking off her coat and folding it with heavy, precise movements while looking down.

Scully scoots froward, trying to reassure her with a little, unconcerned shrug.

Looking up, Maggie locks eyes, holding herself tightly. “I don’t know why you didn’t tell me.”

Embarrassed and guilty, Scully looks down, swallowing as she prepares herself for what’s coming.

“I don’t know why you didn’t tell me immediately!” her mother explodes, betrayal radiating from her stiff spine and locked jaw as she slams her coat on her purse.

Chastised, Scully looks down once more, willing to let Maggie vent the anger that has accumulated since Mulder’s call the night before. It takes the wind out of Mrs. Scully’s sails; and she folds in on herself, trying again to regain control.

“I wanted to get all the answers first,” Scully says, quietly; and Maggie walks over slowly, nodding as she takes a closer stand by her daughter’s side.

“And you found them here?”

Scully hasn’t. “I have found some clarity,” she cryptically replies. “And maybe a way to fight back.” With that, she raises her head and waits for her mother to look back at her again.

Quite the interesting shift we observe here: we the audience know Scully always run to Mulder-- or Melissa-- before her mother (i.e. The Blessing Way and A Christmas Carol, respectively); but Maggie, it appears, wasn’t aware of this dynamic. To Maggie, her baby girl always came to her first for love and advice or council; and she doted on her baby accordingly. She likely didn’t support Dana’s transfer to the FBI but still helped mend her daughter and her husband’s relationship; she trusted her youngest daughter’s judge of character in Fox Mulder, Albert Hosteen, and Walter Skinner (posts here and here); and she talked her daughter down from a paranoid episode when Dana ran to her for safety (post here.) But last night, she found where she placed on Scully’s priority list: second, if unavoidable. And that crushed her.

Flexing her jaw against the trembling in her lips, Maggie finally looks back at her daughter. “I don’t want to be kept in the dark,” she warns, refusing to let the matter rest, no matter how much Dana is skirting it.

Scully lets a bit of her control go, allowing a shade of vulnerability to peer through her eyes. “I know, Mom.”

Maggie, unable to hold back her fear any longer, covers her mouth before leaning in for kiss on the cheek.

Unable to keep her own self-control complete once enveloped in a hug, Scully almost cracks, clutching desperately at her mom’s shirt for a split second to battle away the impulse to cry.

“You have always been the strong one,” Maggie affirms: a blessing and a burden for Dana Scully. Beginning to sob, she adds, “But you are my only daughter now.”

“I know,” Scully answers, resolved.

To Maggie, strength is not separate from open emotions, tears, and vulnerability; but to Scully, fragile emotions are akin to weakness. This, therefore, places mother and daughter in opposite positions-- mother wanting to share in grief and weakness, and daughter wanting to shield them both against it. Maggie desperately wants Scully to open herself, needing that mother-daughter relationship she has only with Dana now; and Scully desperately seeks to avoid that openness, viewing it as dangerously unstable territory while she gathers strength to help her loved ones.

In canon, it's hard to find Scully harboring blame for Melissa's death after her initial burst of blame in Paper Clip. The knowledge that her sister was killed in her place must weigh heavily; but inferences have to be made about the level of guilt she carries, if at all. She was given a form of closure by turning in Luis Cardinale-- though imperfect, since his was killed before facing justice-- and we know she has fond memories of her sister in A Christmas Carol and a shade of remembrance in all things. Most often, the body count of the mission falls on Mulder's shoulders, with Scully firmly convinced the men who pull the trigger are the ones that bear responsibility.

Knowing all this, it would not, however, be easy to face her mother's pain and fright after her abduction, disgraced disappearance, sister's death, and government-inflicted brain cancer.

Maggie Scully breaks down, clinging to her daughter in anguish.

CONCLUSION

There is none, really-- other than the knowledge that this mini arc pales in comparison to the other family work tackled in Season 4.

Thanks for reading~

Enjoy!

#txf #meta #The Scully Family In-Depth #In-Depth #Part XIV #When Nature Turns So Cruel #Scully #Mulder #Maggie Scully #S4 #Home #Memento Mori #xfiles #x-files #the x files #xf meta #mine #thoughts

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bonkers-4-hatter · 3 months

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@sacredwarrior88 asked: Welcome back my amazing buddy! 😊 May I please request headcanons for Nana, Nobu, and Yasu finding out about their female S/O having PCOS which causes various problems including weight gain?

Hello buddy! <3 of course you can! As someone who has PCOS myself and is currently going through trying to regulate my hormones through my diet and medications this hits home. I hope you enjoy the headcanons hun!

Headcanons for a female S/O that has PCOS:

Nana Osaki (I picked her, since it didn't specify which one):

She never thought about you gaining weight in the first place.

When you told her what your doctor said, she hugged you, not really sure what else to do.

When you start your new medications and your mood swings go in different directions, she doesn't take it to heart and will give you space and time for yourself unless you tell her you want her there.

She even cuts out her beer and cake so its not around the apartment in case you get a craving. She knows you're cutting your sugar intake as your doctor suggested to help balance out your hormones and you can't drink on the current meds you're on.

When you feel sad, no matter if it's your mood swings or just feeling down through this whole process, she holds you close making sure you know she's there for whatever you'll need.

Nana even starts making sugar free or low sugar sweets for you two to share.

Does her best to make you your favorite dishes that go along with what your doctor suggested. Cooking and baking for you are her love language so get ready to be pampered with delicious dishes.

Nobuo Terashima:

Adored you with your current weight and doesn't bat an eye when you seem to gain more weight or stay the same.

Is initally confused when you told him you had PCOS, but tries to be a supportive boyfriend in his own way.

Knows you want to do some form of movement to help and he finds fun ways to do that with you. Through doing dancing games with you, to Zumba, even taking you to puppy yoga one day.

When you tell him it's hard to lose weight when he notices your weight staying the same especially with PCOS and its due to you having more male hormones instead of female hormones that hold onto the weight, but you assure him you feel better with all the movement activities you've been doing with him and that makes him happy.

It's hard for him, but he stops drinking and having booze in the house. He likes drinking and it helps relive some stress he has some days, but since you can't drink, you both find new ways to deal with stress like reading, listening to audiobooks and his favorite which turns out to be plants/gardening.

Does his own reasearch into PCOS and sees what vitamins and such would help you and buys them for you and presents them in a cute basket along with some new foods and drinks that go along with your changes.

He'll always be supportive during your journey with this and will help in any way he can.

Yasushi Takagi:

Didn't care about your weight and never commits on it even when he can see you've gained a bit more. He lieks you for you.

Knows what PCOS is and figured you had something like that with the signs. To be honest, he already had things ordered like vitamins and low sugar snacks and drinks for you. He got them the day you went to the doctor.

Doesn't bat an eye at your mood swings and takes it all in stride. When you come to him afterwards, he'll cuddle you on the couch as he brushes your apologizes aside. He knows it's not your fault, its the medications and that's the truth.

Goes on walks with you every morning to get you moving a bit more and he'll listen to you talk about what's new at work, or with your friend groups and the latest from your doctor. He likes to see you happy and content like this.

Meal preps for you with foods that are packed with what you need and will give you energy even if its just for a little bit.

With your memory not as good as it was before the new medicines, he makes sure to write what pills you need to take and when on a whiteboard he bought so you can remember. He knows you can't miss a single dose of them.

Makes sure there's extra blankets and warm socks around the apartment. With your hormones starting to balance out, you're not hot all the time and start to get cold more frequently. He'll make sure you have everything you need and more.

#q #queue #que #headcanons #nana #nana headcanons #yasushi takagi #nobuo terashima #nana osaki #PCOS #female s/o #s/o headcanons #nana x reader #nobuo x reader #yasushi x reader #PCOS s/o

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lizdonnelly · 4 months

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Counterfeit

Pairing: Elizabeth Donnelly x f!reader Warnings: Language, and minor hurt/comfort I suppose? It's fluff overall Summary: Despite working in different fields, you and Liz Donnelly have built up a rapport over the past few months. When Liz finally confronts you about your relationship status, you panic, not wanting to reveal the crush you've developed on her for fear you'll lose her from your life. Unbeknownst to you, the Bureau Chief has been harboring feelings of her own, and takes the matter very seriously.

---

"This is the only place around here that doesn't fuck up their espressos, so it's worth the line. Otherwise, I wouldn't bother," the woman in front of you said. You chuckled. The tiny cafe was a warm, bustling retreat that you savored going to each morning before work, despite the lengthy lines they always had. "They're the only place on my way to work that makes decent Americanos, so I feel you there," you replied, trying not to yawn.

"Nurse?" she asked, taking note of your scrubs and shoes you wished were cuter in the moment. They had the best comfort insoles you could find, but they certainly weren't as snazzy as the woman's leather loafers.

"Doctor, actually," you said with a shy smile. "I just got out of residency, so my soul isn't completely dead yet." The woman raised her eyebrows and nodded, impressed with your response. You took in her well-tailored pinstriped suit, leather briefcase, and starched white dress shirt with the collar popped. From experience with family members in law that gave off a similar aura, you could safely wager that the woman in front of you was an attorney. "Paralegal?" you asked with a wry smile. "Fuck you," she said, laughing.

---

"So then they wheel him in, and I'm guessing the guy's gonna have a few fractures from what they told us, right? Guy supposedly fell off a ladder and landed on top of a tree while he was landscaping," you said between bites of a croissant. "Nope. Nothing like that. They had to saw off the tree branch and bring it in with him, because it was stuck up inside him," you finished. The woman across from you, whose name you recently learned was Elizabeth, snickered and took another sip of her espresso. "I'm sure he'll be staying away from pine air fresheners for awhile," she joked, tossing her paper cup into the trash can as she walked towards the door. You giggled, thanking her as she held the cafe door open for you.

"Well, have a good day. I hope Alex stays out of your hair. That's her name, right?" "Yes," the blonde said. "Let's hope she does. I'm running low on Ibuprofen as it is." You parted ways on the sidewalk without another word. You began heading down towards Mercy General to start your shift, still smiling. It was nice to have a little chitchat here and there with people. Between college, medical school, and residency, you rarely had time to make friends with people outside of a hospital setting. It was finally beginning to feel like moving to the city was worth the extra expenses. "If you can't find a seat on the subway later," you heard Elizabeth say behind you. "I found you one," she said. You turned around. She gestured towards a Christmas tree strapped to the roof of a car headed down the street beside you. "Whatever," you laughed, flipping her off playfully before turning back around. --- "One espresso and one Americano for here," Elizabeth told the man behind the counter. From your position just behind her in line, you got a waft of her perfume over the smell of coffee beans and cinnamon. Something warmed in the pit of your stomach. "Elizabeth, you don't have to, really," you said, wondering if you looked more beat up than usual this morning after surviving an especially brutal shift yesterday. "Already did," she said, handing you your coffee. You admired the way her short blonde locks fell over her forehead this morning. You hadn't seen her style them that way before in the month you'd gotten to know her. "And it's Liz," she said, finishing her espresso in a single sip.

--- "We'll be trying the kid as an adult, so if the mother isn't a complete dumbass, she'll take the deal," Liz said between bites of the croissant you shared. Her fingers brushed against yours as she handed you a piece she broke off for you, and you fought to hide the blush that was threatening to bloom across your cheeks.

"We have a measles outbreak on one of the floors, so you're welcome to trade with me," you said with a smile. "I'd take catching measles over cleaning up after one of Alex's messes again, so you might just have yourself a deal," she replied with a wink. You were certain she didn't mean anything flirtatious by it, but it still made your heart skip a beat. Suddenly, a man accidentally walked into you, too preoccupied with the woman on his arm to notice you sitting at the table in the aisle. He exchanged a hasty apology, and Liz grimaced as the couple walked away. You mentally forgave the pair, as Valentine's Day was around the corner. You saw so many crumpled bodies get carted into the ER each day that you were just thankful they were able to walk in the first place, for that matter. "By the way," she said, her tone shifting into one you couldn't quite place. "You got any plans for the holiday?" Your eyes widened. It was an odd question, as you'd always known Liz to be brash and strictly business, but it was a normal thing to be curious about someone you were getting to know. You still hated the prospect of answering it honestly though, as you had recently come to terms with the fact that you found Liz rather attractive, and your daily meetups over breakfast and coffee had become the highlight of your weekdays. Though it had only been a few months, you now thought about her while you were at work, wondering what trouble the ADAs were stirring up for her, and even when you laid down to head off to sleep. The woman hadn't given you any indication of being with someone, and she didn't wear a ring or talk about anyone romantically. To be honest, you were too afraid to ask her about her own romantic life, for fear you'd get an answer you wouldn't like.

Across the table, she raised her eyebrows impatiently. Your heart began to race sickeningly, a bead of cold sweat sliding down the back of your neck. Your eyes darted around the room, scanning the menus and signs that adorned the walls of the cafe. "Joe Cortado," you blurted. You immediately wished a sinkhole would open up below you and swallow you into the earth. It was just about the stupidest thing you could've said. Liz's face went blank. Something in her eyes shifted. "Pity. Guy sounds like a douchebag."

---

"Elliot, I need you to run a background check for me," Liz said coolly. The detective stared at her quizzically. "With all due respect, ma'am, what's this all about?" he asked, crossing his arms against his chest.

"The why isn't relevant to you." "So this isn't related to a case?" Liz tilted her head and furrowed her brow. "Detective, if Kathy was spending time around some schmuck, tell me you wouldn't run his name." Elliot smirked, eventually nodding in agreement. "Who's the schmuck we're looking for?"

Liz slid him a piece of paper with a name scribbled across it. --- You rifled through your cabinet, mentally swearing at yourself over never having gotten around to buying espresso cups in the time since you'd moved here. Your mom's old Winnie the Pooh mug you took with you when you moved would have to do. "Liz, is there something wrong?" you asked, turning to the woman that had an iron grip on your kitchen countertop. "Tell me something." "Something," you replied, giggling. She rolled her eyes and huffed. "Are you aware of the kind of company you're keeping?" Your face scrunched up, unsure of what she was getting at. "What do you mean?" She took a deep breath, not even questioning the mug you handed her. "I'm concerned for your safety." "Liz, if this is about the measles outbreak, I'm fine. I don't work in that ward, I promise," you said, trying to throw her a reassuring smile. Her frown didn't lighten up. "I am not talking about measles, I'm talking about the good for nothing low life that probably has plans to take you to some two star restaurant for a half-rate steak this weekend for Valentine's Day," she began ranting, some sort of floodgate having burst. "And then he'll flounder on top of you for five minutes on his sorry excuse for a bed before he runs off and guns down a couple other gangbangers to top off his night." You froze across from her. You were thankful you hadn't been holding anything at the moment, because you surely would have dropped it. "Who are you talking about? I don't know anyone in a gang," you replied, laughing uncomfortably. "So he hasn't told you, or are you too blind to see that, too?" Liz's eyes steeled. "I'm sorry, but I'm not sure what this is in regards to, and I can tell it's eating at you," you said, walking closer to her. The attorney's jaw tightened. "Joe Cortado," she said through clenched teeth. Your breath stopped in your chest. Liz's eyes narrowed. "I had one of the detectives run his name. Were you aware that he's racked up charges for aggravated assault and armed robbery? If that wasn't enough for you, he's currently under investigation for running a counterfeit operation." You couldn't help but let out a laugh, running a hand across your forehead. "I don't see how this is funny," Liz said, clearly even more aggravated by your reaction. You took a deep breath before resting a tentative hand on her shoulder. "Liz, he's not real." "Excuse me?" You swallowed thickly, mentally kicking yourself at how poorly this was all coming to light. "I panicked when you asked me whether I had plans for Valentine's Day, and found the first words on the cafe menu that could pass as a name," you managed. "Truth is...I didn't want to admit that I've fallen for you, because I don't want to lose you."

Liz's gaze fell to the mug in her hands. She chewed at her bottom lip. "Why did it matter so much to you, anyway?" you asked slowly. "I feel bad that he turned out to be a real person, because you were ready to have him dragged into custody." Liz was uncharacteristically silent for a few moments. She then looked up at you, wide brown eyes holding the faintest vulnerability in them. "Because I was hoping to make plans with you myself," Liz answered. "To be honest, I wouldn't have taken well to anything you would've said besides admitting you didn't have plans." Stunned, your jaw fell slack. She set the mug down on the countertop and turned to you. She reached out and cupped your cheeks, pulling you into a soft kiss. You involuntarily sighed into it, arms looping up around her neck.

"So..." you started, fiddling with a button along her shirt when you finally broke the kiss. "What are we doing for Valentine's Day this weekend?" She pulled you closer to her chest and kissed your forehead. "Buying you a proper set of espresso cups."

#elizabeth donnelly x reader #elizabeth donnelly #svu

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thedepthsoffandomminds · 2 months

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The guest PT 8

Masterlist

Jack Dawkins x fem reader

It was a few days before you chose to leave your room at Government house choosing instead to stay away from everyone if you could help it. On occasion Fanny would come into you, bringing sweet treats and happy news about the other rich people.in the town. The show had not made it clear but there was actually a wide variety of rich men and women living in Port Victory. On this day, belle was sitting with you curled up in your armchair with her book on her knees. Fanny came bursting into the room, happy as ever.

"Are good you're both here. Dr. Sneed has been invited to join us for dinner. We'll be in the second dining room, which fits the evening for its intimacy. I'm being served on a platter for him. I hope it's not too pointed."

Your eyes jump to her as she speaks knowing more than you should.

"No man wants to feel trapped, even in the spoils of the colony." She chuckles.

"You want to marry sniffly Sneed, the boy who cried when we used to tease him?" Belle asked turning to her.

"He's grown and very ready for a wife. I always forget you're unwell." She sneers at her.

"It is only asthma." Belle calls as hed sister storms out. She spins round to you, will you come outside with me today? You have been hiding out here and it can't be good for you." She says.

"Belle-"

"No, you forget I listened to your heart, I heard it, that unnatural beat. I've been looking it up, trying to find what it could be." She says waving the book in the air.

"Belle, I know what it is, what it could be at least and there is nothing you can do. But yes okay, I'll come outside if it will make you happy."

"It will, come on."

The day after your encounter with Jack you had taken ill with the pains in your chest. Your heart clamping in on itself. You had insisted that no doctors be called and that you could simply sleep it off.

You followed Belle out onto the front lawn where Belle practised her archery, you had sat down at the table with a book. You couldn't lie, it felt nice to be out in the fresh air, so much so you began to drift off. You were asleep by the time Jack appeared behind a tree.

"Dr. Dawkins, I have a front door." Belle joked walking over to him.

"I have a patient with a carotid aneurysm. What do you know?" He asks.

" Astley Cooper performed it twice 50 odd years ago." Belle explained.

" He did? That's encouraging." Jack said happily.

"Not really. Half the patients died." Belle shrugged.

" Ah."

"What about with ether and carbolic acid, does that change the odds? I've never done this before." Jack asks.

"Few surgeons have. But yes, it might." Belle agrees.

"We'll need a fresh cadaver to practice with." Jack muses.

" I can find the means if you have to pay for it." Belle informs him

" No, we don't pay for cadavers, Belle. We just borrow them. Has your father had anyone recently hanged?" Jack laughed. His eyes caught sight of you resting back in the chair, "Is she, is Y/n okay?" He asks. Belle glances back at you and blows out a big breath.

"Honestly, I don't know."

Jack screws up his face unsure if he should explain himself to Belle.

"I may have upset her somewhat." He admits.

"Yes well, whatever you did she seems incredulous about it. She won't say anything about unless it is to point out what a good match you and I would be." Belle says.

"Yes, she said something similar to me."

Belle's attention is grabbed by her father and Gaines chatting as they walk out of the house. She turned to look at them and by the time she looked back Jack was gone.

Later in the day Belle asked if you were going to come to the hospital with her. She and Jack wanted to practise a procedure. You had declined her offer stating that the two of them should take the time to get to know each other. You opted instead to spend some time alone reading in the parlour.

Lady Jane walked in and sat across from you.

"I hope you are enjoying the comforts our home provides." She said, pulling your attention from the book.

"Oh, yes, you have all been so accommodating for me. I do not wish to outstay my welcome though." You say feeling intimidated by her presence.

"Oh, of course. My husband and daughter caused you pain, we are obliged to keep you until you are better." She said with a false smile.

"But...?" You ask.

"But...you are a bad influence on my daughters. I think tomorrow we will have an apartment found for you in town." She suggested.

"Oh, I'm, I have no money to pay for, I'll look for somewhere-" you start.

"No, it's alright, I want you out of here and the easiest way to do that is to pay for it. We can call it an indefinite loan if you'd like, but you'll be gone by the evening."

"Yes Milady." You look to your knees.

"say nothing of this to the girls and I'll make sure you are compensated for the rest of the year." Lady Jane stood and walked to the door leaving you alone again.

*_*_*_*

You dressed for dinner in a royal purple silk dress, your shoulders on show as the sleeves perched just below. Fanny and Belle had helped pin your hair into a beautiful circlet of curls and plaits. You stood alongside Belle as a carriage pulled up to the house. Sneed climbed out followed by the professor. He greeted lady Jane, fancy and then the governor before.moving over to you.

"I know they have expectations of me this evening, and that you have expressed a disinterest in me but my offer still stands." He says quietly to you.

"And should we run away together Rainsford. Find somewhere that would marry us quickly? I thank you, for your interest but my position is unchanged." You say, looking first to the Fox family behind you then to Belle as she looks at Jack. He was walking up from the road, dressed in his navel uniform.

"What's Dawkins doing here?" He asks across you to Belle.

"Why wouldn't he be?" She quips back at him

"Dawkins isn't quite the man of medicine you think he is." He sneers, "yous should both be careful."

The dinner began almost immediately and you followed the others into the room, finding yourself placed directly across from the Professor between Lady Jane and Belle. Edmund stood.

"Ladies and gentlemen, I'd like to thank you all for coming this evening on this thunderously balmy evening. And to give our medical men a really terrific nod for their surgical exploits. It's not for the faint of heart. Anyway, enjoy the evening." He raises his glass to everyone. You flick your eyes to Jack he was removing his gloves as a quail egg was placed in front of him.

"Looks quite yummy." Edmund mused.

"Dr. Dawkins, you've recently joined us in the land of the misbegotten?" Lady Jane asked.

" No, I've been here some time now." Jack corrected her.

" You washed up ashore, did you?" She laughed.

"Doctor Dawkins was decorated for gallantry at the Siege of Sevastopol." Belle interrupted.

"Just as a Surgeon Lieutenant. It's nothing more than butchery, Milady, and I grew tired of that, so... "

"And before then? Your people?" Lady Jane asks.

"English. But I found myself searching for more modern solutions in medicine. And I know I am out of favour with some in this audience, but I do believe that death rate could be halved..."

He is cut off again as Prof says, "The pain itself is God's work."

"Quite right. It's very corrective."

"Too many patients die on the slab. There has to be a better way." You interject.

"There's a reason Galen's precepts are still in use 2,000 years later."

" Yes, that's all very interesting, but," Edmund pulled the attention to himself, "you know, it's not often that one gets front row seats to real brilliance. Which is why we're here. Yesterday, one had the privilege of seeing Dr. Sneed's skill with the local woman."

"Rotty's still kicking. Happy to say." Sneed beamed.

"She calls herself Rotty, or was that given posthumously?" Lady Jane asked.

"She isn't dead, darling. At any rate, Prof's not immortal. More's the pity." All chuckled except Jack, Belle and yourself, " And we must plan for the future, when the position of Head Surgeon will become available. Dr. Sneed..."

" Wasn't Dr. Dawkins responsible for the second surgery that saved Rotty's life?" Belle stated.

A second surgery? He did what? I thought you said you'd fixed her." Edmund gasped.

"I most certainly did, sir. There's no accounting for what he did after that."

"I believe Dr. Dawkins successfully treated the first carotid aneurysm in history." Belle sarcastically smiled at Sneed.

"We haven't even started on the soup." Lady Jane sighed.

"I'm intrigued. How is it Dawkins stumbled on Cooper's case notes and then used those to operate on my patient?" Sneed sneered across the table.

"We have the finest library of medical texts." Belle took a sip of her wine.

' I practiced on a cadaver." Jack tried to answer.

"From the little I know, Doctor Dawkins followed Cooper's lectures, word for word, with remarkable success." She continued.

"How was he able to draw from the lectures without the rather requisite skill of being able to read?" Sneed Chuckled.

" You operated on the old girl and you can't read?" Edmund coughed out.

"It's nonsense. Of course Jack can read." Belle laughed.

You see Jack about to stand.

"It was me, I read it to him. We worked on it together and then he did the operation." You say, making everyone pause,"I was witness to the operation last year and I had my teachers notes on it. Jack pulled from these to successfully operate."

Sneed narrows his eyes on you and you feel Lady Jane's distaste bedside you.

Masterlist

@fandomfan-102 @deanstolemydragon @mydeputyghostwagon

#jack dawkins x y/n #jack dawkins x reader #jack dawkins and belle #jack dawkins #the artful dodger x reader #the artful dodger

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teaberrii · 11 months

Text

Chapter Twenty-Four: Right Around the Corner

Alhaitham has the looks and the smarts. He will also be the stand-in CEO for his grandfather's company for a year.

But, he's been mysteriously cursed to turn into a cat every night since his eighteenth birthday… until he meets you, an employee at his grandfather's company, who rescues him as a cat and changes him back with one kiss.

Alhaitham/You

Notes:

Cross-posted on AO3

Female reader

Chapter index at the end of chapter one

When Childe walks in through the front door of this parent’s place, he knows something is wrong. The place is nearly empty with only a couple of boxes—big and small—lying around the living room. The floor is also dirty, which Childe guesses are from the remnants of packing. He knows his mother. She cannot stand a dirty floor. So, where is—

“You came.”

Childe looks up and sees his father carrying a small box and slowly coming down the stairs.

“Of course,” Childe says. “Did you expect me not to come when you said you were moving?”

“Moved,” his father clarifies. Childe is about to take the box from him but his father dodges his attempt and puts it on the kitchen counter. “...I’m just back to take care of some last-minute things. Your mother is already in Snezhnaya.”

“I didn’t think you’d be in such a hurry to leave.”

His father turns to him. “We had no choice.”

"Do you hate Sumeru that much?

“Is that what you think?”

“If it’s not, then just tell me,” Childe says, the last of his patience leaving him. “You and Mom have been ignoring my calls… my texts.” He sighs. “I have no idea what’s been happening.”

His father inhales sharply. “Your mother had to leave... for the sake of her health.”

“...Her health? Wasn’t it because you got a promotion?”

His father leans against the kitchen counter and looks his son in the eyes. “Your mother’s sick.”

Childe’s gaze hardens. This is a bombshell he obviously isn’t expecting. Sick? With what? For how long? And… how? She sounded healthy on the phone. Every time he saw her, she also looked well. How can—

“...It started with her saying she was having difficulty seeing. She went to a doctor and they didn’t find anything wrong. But then it started to escalate.”

For a brief moment, the rest of his father’s words fall on deaf ears as it sounds like something out of a horror movie. But what Childe can’t believe is that his parents kept this from him.

“...It's getting harder for her to move,” his father says. “One of the doctors recommended someone in Snezhnaya who specializes in these kinds of diseases. She’s staying at a hospital right now.”

“It’s… curable, right? She will get better… right?”

“That’s what I’m hoping,” his father answers quietly. “There’s no known cure, but people have recovered.”

“Why didn’t you tell me about this?" Childe demands. "Because you didn’t want me to worry?”

“What could you have done, Childe?”

The question throws him off guard. Yet, it’s also true. What could he have done if he’d known?

His father sighs. “...Even I didn’t know what to do.”

“...Is that why she asked me to move back?”

“I hope you know we want what’s best for you,” his father says. “Isn’t that the case with every parent? Your mother knows you’re talented. She knows you’ll get better opportunities at Snezhnaya, and… you would be with her.”

“That still doesn’t address the core of the problem. Mom is sick. That’s a separate problem from the fact that even after all these years, you still don’t accept what I do for a living.”

“Maybe we’re too old-fashioned. It’s true we don’t know how the entertainment industry works. But everything is still dependent on numbers, is it not? A show or a film does well because this many people streamed it? Viewed it? Whatever the correct term is.”

“...Yes, that’s true.”

“So, it really doesn’t matter if the content is good. It just depends on the numbers.”

Perhaps Childe underestimated how much his father knew about his industry.

His father walks up to him. “I’m not in the mood to have this conversation with you right now. I’m leaving for Snezhnaya the day after tomorrow. It… would be nice if you could visit your mother. Not for my sake but hers."

As Childe hears his father walk back upstairs, he looks around the empty living room. The house he grew up in that was once full of life—the good and the bad–was now… dead.

That evening, when Childe returns to his apartment, he’s on the phone with Lumine.

After telling her what happened after he left his parent’s place, Lumine says, “...I’m really sorry this is happening to your mother.”

“Hey.” Lumine looks up as if Childe is right in front of her. “Don’t look so sad.”

"How can I not?" she huffs. Then, her shoulders fell slightly. "I just… I also can't believe they kept this a secret from you."

Childe sighs. “It’s just such a coincidence I found out about this now.”

“A coincidence?”

That’s when he tells you about his conversation with you about the curse. All of the secrets that the curse wants them to find out.

“...Does this mean your curse will start changing?” Lumine asks.

Childe looks at the clock. “It already has. I’m already late.”

Lumine smiles. “That’s progress… I think.”

“Well, I’m getting more time talking to you, so… yes. It is progress.”

“I… I wish I could be there for you right now.”

“You are, aren’t you?” Childe smiles. “I’m thinking of visiting her next week. What my father said to me tonight… I might’ve underestimated how much they really know.” He sighs. “Maybe it’s time we can have an open conversation about it without letting our feelings get in the way this time. It just… sucks that it took something like this to get us here. But… maybe I should consider myself lucky.”

Lumine chuckles softly. “You know… I was kinda thinking the same thing.”

There are too many stories where people leave things unsaid or problems unsolved and then regret not saying anything when the person was still around.

“Your mother will get through this,” Lumine says. “I know she will.”

“...Thanks, Lumine.” Then, in a slightly lighter tone, he says, “I know she will, too. She has to meet you formally after all.”

“...Formally?”

“You’re my girlfriend. A formal introduction is necessary, don’t you think?”

She feels her face grow warm. “How long will you be gone?”

“...I don’t know.” He smiles slightly. “Hey, you used to say that you would never miss me if I wasn’t around. What changed, huh?"

“That… that was just a joke!”

“I’ll miss you, too, Lumine.”

Her shoulders fall. “It’s just… so sudden.” She flops on her bed. “I really hope things go well, though. You’d better keep me updated!”

Childe chuckles. “Of course.” Then, jokingly, “I’ll send you my breakfast pictures every day.”

“Of what? Your buttered toast and black coffee?”

"Hey, I'll have you know I've been upping my cooking skills."

“You? Cook?”

Childe almost feels offended. “My cooking isn’t that bad!”

Is it?

“Well… you did make us that crisp, black… thing last year. It was, uh, very unique.”

“I’m a changed person, Lulu. I’ll have you know that I’m constantly improving myself.”

“Riiight… But I don’t think you can beat Mr. Neighbour.”

Childe’s jaw almost drops. “You don’t think I can beat Alhaitham?”

“Sis showed me some of the stuff he makes, and it looks amazing!”

Childe frowns. “Just wait and see. He’ll have nothing on me.”

Lumine laughs. “Are you jealous?”

“...No.”

“Whatever you say… Kittyman.”

Childe is about to retort when…

Poof!

Then, all Lumine hears is a long, annoyed meow that almost makes her laugh.

◆◆◆

“I’m sorry to hear that.”

Before Childe got to work the next morning, he'd already told his father he'll be visiting Snezhnaya next week. Now Childe relays the same message to his manager but adds that it's because of his mother's unexpected illness.

“But, I don’t want to stop working,” Childe says. “So, I want to ask if I can work remotely.”

“You know, Childe, you work very hard. You’ve never taken more than a day off since you started working here.”

Childe blinks once. Twice. Is that… bad?

“You aren’t indirectly telling me to take a break because I’m not needed or something, right?”

“Not needed?” His manager almost laughs. “Where in the world did you get that idea from?”

Childe awkwardly scratches his head. "Well, isn't that usually the case? Managers tell people that it's okay not to come back or it's okay to take long breaks because that person isn't really… needed."

“You’re watching too many dramas,” his manager says, standing. “I meant that you shouldn’t have to worry about work while visiting your mother. That’s a lot of stress.”

“...But I can’t just put everything down.”

“You're one of the most hardworking ones on the team, Childe. You’re also talented.”

“Where is this going?”

His manager chuckles. "This is going off on a tangent, but I'm just wondering why you aren't willing to expand your horizons a little bit. You've been doing so many commercial scripts you can probably write one in your sleep. Why not try something more difficult?"

It was late evening, and Childe thought he was the last one at the company. That was until he bumped into you in the lounge.

“You’re still here?” you asked.

“I could ask you the same thing. What are you still doing here?”

“Well… I'll let you in on a little secret.” Then, you smiled. “I just got news from the production team that Love in the Spotlight was chosen to get the biggest budget of the year. They also told me that the leadership team loved the script!”

The rest of your excitement fell on deaf ears. Childe kept his usual smile on the outside, but a storm was brewing on the inside. So, this was it, huh? You still got chosen despite his hard work. Little did you know, Childe also submitted a screenplay to the production and leadership team. He'd worked on it outside of work as it wasn't part of his usual responsibilities. But he'd wanted to give screenwriting another shot.

The feeling of losing to you was still fresh in his mind. You had come in second. He came in third. He was happy for you, but he wasn't. Regardless, he strived to get better at the craft. The two of you were close friends. Perhaps that was why he compared himself to you. That aside, it didn't help you have a supportive parent, and his parents gave him hell for pursuing creativity as a career.

After years of honing his craft, he still lost... to you.

“...I’m happy for you,” he finally said. Then, he put a hand in his pocket. “To celebrate, I’ll grab you a coffee tomorrow morning.”

“Well, it’s a little early to celebrate."

“Why do you say that?”

“I don’t want to celebrate just because I got a big budget.” Your smile widened. “I’m crossing my fingers that this does so well that it gets nominated for awards."

So, you were aiming for something bigger. Of course, you would. You'd already overcome the first hurdle. Then, there was him. Still stuck at the starting line.

“I… have my reasons,” Childe finally says. “I’m comfortable writing commercial scripts. It’s something I’m familiar with.”

“Well, you’re a good teacher, that’s for sure. The interns we had this year said that you were the best mentor.”

Childe smiles. “See?”

"It's just a shame if you ask me. But, I can't force you to do something you don't want to do. If you ever change your mind, let me know. Oh, and you can work remotely. But don't hesitate to let me know if things get too much."

“You’re the best.”

His manager gives him a deadpan look with a little smile. “I try.”

After Childe's meeting with his manager, it's just about lunchtime. He heads back to his desk, grabs his wallet from his bag, and heads to the restaurant to meet you and Tighnari for lunch.

When Childe arrives, you and Tighnari are already sitting at the table. Childe walks over just as you lean over and gasp at whatever is on Tighnari's screen.

“Oh, you do know how to pick ‘em, Nari,” you say with a small smile.

“Who are we talking about?” Childe asks, even though he already has a good idea. He takes an empty seat.

“Nari’s mystery boyfriend. Well, he’s not so mysterious anymore.”

That’s when Tighnari shows Childe a photo of him and a man who looks around Tighnari’s age with tan skin and medium-length gray hair.

“Why does he remind me of a mini Alhaitham?” Childe asks.

You laugh. “What?” You take another look at the man in the photo. “Oh, I can kinda see it.”

“Let me guess…" Childe moves into a thinking pose. "This guy’s quiet, mysterious, and kind of intimidating.”

You and Tighnari look at each other. “That… actually sounds about right,” he says. “But he’s actually really nice.”

“What’s his name?”

Tighnari smiles. “Cyno.”

“I… guess this means we have the same taste in guys, Nari,” you say.

Tighnari chuckles. “I guess so.”

After Childe orders his food, the three of you briefly chat about work before Childe drops the news he’ll be leaving Sumeru for a while. You and Tighnari are in shock when he tells you about his mother.

“That’s… so sudden,” Tighnari finally says. “I’m so sorry, Childe.”

“Yeah… I’ve been hearing that a lot. Don’t get me wrong. I do appreciate it. It’s just… after hearing it again and again, it gets a little much.”

“If there’s anything we can do,” you say, “just let us know.”

Childe smiles. “Just don’t have too much fun while I’m gone.”

“...Does Lumine know?”

Childe nods. “She was the first to know.”

“Lumine?” Tighnari looks at you. “As in your sister, Lumine?”

“That’s right,” Childe says. “I’m dating her sister.”

Tighnari’s eyes widen. “Oh, wow. I… Wow. When did this happen?"

"I'll tell you the full story another time."

Once the food arrives, the conversation takes a different turn, eventually leading you to reveal that you’re going to have dinner with Alhaitham and his mom this week.

“Ooh, it’s getting serious,” Childe says.

“Any advice?” you ask.

“If it’s you, you’ll be fine."

Tighnari nods. “Agreed. My parents loved you the first time they met you, remember?”

You laugh. “Oh, I remember!”

"I was getting jealous that they were giving you all the food," Childe says.

A short laugh later, Tighnari says, "I know you're going to a restaurant, but maybe you can impress her with your cooking."

"Uh, maybe if you want her to get food poisoning."

"Rude!" you say, half-jokingly. But you have to agree with Childe. "Hey, I've been getting lessons, though. Haitham’s been teaching me.”

“I heard he’s a good cook."

“Did you hear from Lumine?”

Childe nods. “I told her I can compete with him.”

“Ooh, does this mean we’re getting a cook-off in the future?” Tighnari asks.

You smile. “Nari and Cyno can be the judges. Gets rid of any bias, I think.”

“I, uh, I don’t know about that,” Tighnari says. “Even if it’s temporary, Alhaitham is still the CEO of our company… I wouldn’t want to say anything that might be taken the wrong way.”

"So, you only care about his feelings?" Childe asks, feigning dramatics.

“Maybe just a tiiiny bit more.”

Childe gives him a deadpan look just as you say, “Regardless, it’ll be fun!”

After some time, Tighnari leaves early for a meeting, leaving you and Childe at the table. There's a short silence as you and Childe finish what's left on your plate. Then, the conversation takes a serious turn.

"...Remember our conversation about the curse the other day?" Childe asks. You nod. "When I found out about what's been happening to my mother, I changed much later. Love might be the key to solving this, but it's like we're getting there one step at a time by discovering these secrets."

“...And it seems like we can’t run away from them.”

“Yeah… By leaving Sumeru, I’m pretty much forcing myself to talk to them.”

“I know you’ll be fine,” you say reassuringly. “And… your mom’s strong. She’ll get through this.”

Childe smiles weakly. “Thanks. But, hey, doesn't this mean there’s still something between you and Alhaitham you have to find out.”

You sigh. “Yeah, good point. And…”

“...And?”

You’re silent for a moment until you finally say, “Nevermind. I… I think I’ve been watching too many dramas lately.”

“Watching or writing?”

“Both.”

Childe chuckles. “C’mon, lunch is almost over.”

After you and Childe pay for your respective meals, you head back to the office.

◆◆◆

This isn't the first time Alhaitham has visited a TV station. However, it is the first time he's been invited as the CEO of a company and not as a researcher. Along with other experts and company executives, he will appear on the evening news as a speaker to discuss views on the ever-evolving technology industry and artificial intelligence. Alhaitham has just finished speaking to the producers when he overhears another interesting conversation a few feet away.

“What? Ayato didn’t get the role?”

“Shh! It’s supposed to be confidential.”

When Alhaitham happens to meet that person’s eyes, that person quickly walks away with his colleague. Alhaitham walks into the hallway, looking for a washroom, when he bumps into someone unexpected.

“Oh, Haitham.”

“Ayato. This is a nice surprise.”

Ayato smiles. “Yes. I saw you filming for the evening news channel. Very interesting perspectives.”

Alhaitham nods once. "How have you been?"

"Well... I can live without any surprises for a while."

"Is everything alright?"

Ayato glances around before quietly saying, “...Thoma told me everything. The truth of what happened to my ex-fianceé.”

“...You’re telling me she killed herself?”

"I’m… truly sorry, Ayato. I shouldn’t have kept it from you for so long.”

“...So, why are you telling me this now?”

“I don’t want you to shoulder this burden anymore. I thought… it’ll help you gain strength to pursue what you really want in life.”

Ayato closed his eyes and sighed heavily. “What I really want in life, huh?” Then, he looked Thoma in the eyes. “I didn’t get the role.”

“What? They… made a decision already?”

Ayato smiled wryly. “I guess… my best wasn’t good enough.”

"...We talked for a bit, and he told me that you and she knew about it long before I did," Ayato finishes.

"...That's true."

Ayato sighs. "Is it bad that even after knowing what really happened to her, that is the last thing on my mind right now?”

“...I don’t think so.” Ayato looks at him as Alhaitham continues, “It happened so long ago. I would assume you’re focusing on your problems… in the present.”

Ayato smiles. “Yes, you’re correct in that regard. It was my first time auditioning for a lead role, and… I lost it.” He looks down. “...The casting director said I lacked purpose.”

“Purpose?”

Just then, Alhaitham’s phone goes off.

“Ah, my apologies,” Ayato says. “I went off a little on a tangent. You must be busy.”

Just as Ayato walks past Alhaitham, he hears his name. Ayato turns around and sees Alhaitham looking at him.

“Don’t give up.”

Ayato smiles. “I appreciate the encouragement.”

As Ayato walks off, Alhaitham answers the call from his mother.

“The table has been booked!"

“You sound excited,” he says.

“Of course, I am. I’m meeting your girlfriend, after all.”

Alhaitham thinks back to Layla's conversation with his mother and says, "Are you sure you haven't met her somewhere, perhaps?"

“Why would you say that, Haitham? If I did, I would tell you.”

Alhaitham looks over his shoulder as two TV station employees pass by. "...I'll see you tonight at dinner."

Then, he ends the call, puts his phone inside his pocket, and continues on his way.

◆◆◆

Is this how Alhaitham felt when he met your mother? Nervous? Jittery? Because that’s exactly what you’re feeling. You close your closet door and look into the full-length mirror. You're wearing a casual, beige evening dress; you also opt for a natural make-up look to match. When you hear the knock at your door, you grab your small bag hanging on a hook and go to open the front door.

Alhaitham is wearing a teal, collared shirt that snugly hugs his athletic figure. He leaves the first two buttons unbuttoned, giving you a little tease of his chest. His black pants emphasize his long legs. When he steps closer to you, you get a whiff of his cologne. He takes your hand and lightly kisses it.

“Good evening, my lady.”

“My, what a greeting,” you say with a small smile. Then, you lean closer and kiss his cheek.

Alhaitham bends his arm, signalling for you to loop your arm around his. Once you do, he ushers you down to his car.

“I bumped into Ayato at the TV station today,” Alhaitham says as the car weaves through the busy Sumeru streets.

“Really? How’s he doing?”

“...Thoma told him what happened to his ex-fianceé.”

“Ah… and is he… okay?”

“I’m sure it came as a big shock,” Alhaitham says. “But he seems to be fine."

“That’s good to hear. Does he know if his curse changed?”

“I didn't get a chance to talk to him about it." A small pause. "I think there's a lot on his mind right now.”

Does it have to do with the acting role you last heard about?

Alhaitham pulls up to a fancy restaurant in the heart of the business district. Eventually, you two walk into the building, holding hands, and meet up with Alhaitham's mother.

As soon as she sees you, she gasps.

"Hello, hello!" She stands, walks over, and gives you a hug. "It's so nice to meet you, dear."

Alhaitham subtly glances around. It looks like Layla decided not to show up. What excuse did she give his mother? And… how did his mother take it?

“...What did you say your name was?”

Alhaitham tunes back into the conversation just as you repeat your name. He looks at his mother and sees an expression of shock break through her polite smile. But, it disappears as quickly as it came.

“That’s such a pretty name, dear.” She gestures to the table. “Shall we sit?”

You and Alhaitham sit beside each other while his mother sits across from you. As his mother starts another conversation with you, Alhaitham subtly takes note of the slight stiffness in her actions. He can see the gears turning in her head.

Something’s up. He can feel it.

Chapter Twenty-Five

Tag list: @suoshiii @lordbugs @lxry-chxn @seirenspinel @sakiimeo @ash-in-lavender @forsh4dow @ceylestia @deathkat657 @kalpie @elernity @sentieence @chichibleeps @sunsethw4 @hjjks @tanspostsblog @nqctre @just-simping-over-genshin @uchihaeirin @vynbin @ayanokomu @dksfl920 @rin1802 @itztaki @thetwinkims @imkaaayy @angeilix @starlighttotheleft @letthewindlead @certaindreampost @winterpein @theprinceofkhaos @vvyeislazzy @warrior-of-justice @thelonelyarchon

#alhaitham x you #alhaitham fluff #alhaitham x reader #alhaitham #alhaitham x yn #alhaitham x y/n #genshin al haitham #al haitham x reader #al haitham x y/n #al haitham fluff #al haitham

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iellarenuodolorian · 3 months

Text

Gonna rant about a few Bad Batch things real quick…ish

Tarkin wants the Batch eliminated. He’s wanted that since they defected. And now we’ve got this whole thing from Eriadu which makes Tarkin hate clones even more so…I’m expecting Tarkin to play a big part in this season.

The Emperor wants Nala Se to finish up her cloning research. So, in the Celebration trailer we get Rex telling Hunter that “she’s vital to whatever they’re doing on Tantiss”. The “she” in question initially makes me think Omega because Hunter then says “Omega’s been waiting for us, I’m not making her wait another day.” So are they somehow still in contact!?

Is the “she” Nala Se, the chief cloning engineer who is responsible for creating the genotype for all of Jango’s clones and who Palpatine has captured to help make him a Force sensitive clone so he can rule the Empire forever (ya’ll do know that’s his plan right?). Or is the “she” Emerie???? I seriously doubt the last option, but I’m beginning to think it’s Nala Se. And that’s who Ventress is after. And I honestly wouldn’t blame Ventress for wanting to kill her either.

Nala Se will also be a big part of this season. And I SWEARRRRR if she tries to be “good” I will be CONSTANTLY reminding ya’ll that she does NOT care about the clones. SHE IS PERSONALLY RESPONSIBLE FOR KILLING FIVES 😤😤😤😤 she could have let the secret about the chips out and maybe more of them would have lived and maybe she would have died (because Palpatine killed her for failing him) but THAT WAS HER CHOICE AND FIVES IS DEAD!!!!! I will never forgive her for that.

Dr Hemlock I’ll kill with my bare hands, all on my own. He’s gonna be terrifying, and I’ll be so worked up every time I see him on the screen during an episode. I’m NOT excited to see how dark he is. Maybe this will give me some new ideas about how to torture him as I slowly kill him….I’ve had more than 300 days to ponder exactly what I’d do. It’s a pretty gruesome list. If Cid decides to show her face, I have a similar list for her of what her torture will look like.

One positive hope is that IF Nala Se does decide to switch sides and save the clones that Rex is going to recruit the Batch to help save all the other clones because Omega is somehow the key to getting all of them out and safe and with their accelerated aging turned off.

All I’ve wanted for the Batch to show us is that the clones have ALWAYS deserved better and that after the war, some of them managed to find a small shred of peace fighting for whatever family they found and fighting for a cause THEY chose. Part of me hopes the next show will be the Clone Rehab program and some of them finding a happy ending!?! (can we have a happy ending, JUST THIS ONCE DAVE!?!?) (even Doctor Who has a few episodes where “just this once everyone lives!!!!”)

I will also never forgive them for letting us see Hunter, Tech, Wrecker, Echo, and Crosshair working together in ONE MISSION! We got the original four rescuing Echo and the short mission after that where we see them all adjusting to maybe adding Echo. And then we have Kaller, but we don’t get the planning or the initial set up, just the badassery that is them completely destroying a shitload of droids like it’s a walk in the park. And then Crosshair’s chip goes off and everything is wrong. We have ONE halfass mission of all of them together and I feel so short changed on getting to see THE BAD BATCH in action being a whole ass army, just the five of them.

So, Crosshair and Omega might escape, but I still want to know who the 5th enhanced clone is. It’s not Omega, Tech changed his mind in 1.10 about her being enhanced saying that shes the other half of the pure genetic replication of Jango’s original genetic material. Remember, Venress leads another mission on Kamino trying to steal Jango’s DNA code from the DNA vault on Kamino. Omega is vital to some part of Nala Se’s research on making a Force sensitive clone for Palpatine, or maybe something else entirely. So, will we find out who the final member is or was that a throwaway line in 1.1 when Tarkin asks Nala Se how many enhanced clones she has left and she tells him five.

I’m also wondering if Bane will be sent after Omega again when she escapes and if Fennec will be the one keeping an eye on her for Nala Se (like what happened in S1). And Hunter and Bane better not have another showdown, we know Bane survives until after the second Death Star blows up. So that showdown won’t look good for Hunter….again….

It bugs me that Hunter has FINALLY realized that he can’t run and hide from the Empire. Pabu is going to get taken from them, and maybe thats the final straw for Hunter. Echo was right to try and push Hunter to realize that they needed to be gathering allies and resources. If they can keep Omega from the Empire’s hands, that means Palpatine won’t get the clone he needs to be immortal and that the Rebellion stands a chance. And if they have enough resources to keep Omega safe, they can try and relax and give her as normal of a life as possible during the terror of the reign of the Empire.

I read the Legends series “Republic Commando” books before Batch started and had hopes that at least the plot lines of the clone rehab program and figuring out how to turn off their accelerated aging to give the clones a chance at a normal life would be brought to Canon. Instead I’ve gotten nothing but pain and sadness and a broken family. You have 15 episodes to give yourselves a chance to save it all!!

#anxiously awaiting season three with all the anxiety in the world #I’m prepared to scream and sob like I did for Tech if they decide to take any of the other Batchers away from me permanently #trying to be optimistic but I’m such a pessimist that its not going very well #honestly im expecting them to all be unalived by the finale #Emily rants #the bad batch #bad batch season 3

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electronickingdomfox · 5 months

Text

"Vulcan!" review

A novel by Kathleen Sky, from 1978. This one was bad, bad, BAD. I'd say it's the worst I've read so far, and I really hope it doesn't get any worse than this. The characters, in particular Spock and McCoy, are sometimes unrecognizable, the barebones plot barely makes any sense, and the (self-insert?) character is really unlikable. At least it's short, so through sheer masochism willpower, I got to read it in record time, to forget it as soon as possible.

Spoilers under the cut:

The Romulan border is shifting, since the magnetic fields that determine the Neutral Zone are being affected by ion storms. Soon, the system of the planet Arachnae will fall under Romulan territory. I mean, it will be rightfully Romulan, simply because of the shifting nature of borders as they're defined. Is Starfleet going to accept this, just as the Romulans would have to accept a natural expansion of the Federation, if it came to happen? Nah! Prime Directive be damned! They send the Enterprise to investigate if there's intelligent life in Arachnae that may be worth to keep in the Federation. (And if there is, then what? Do they start a war? On what basis? Whatever.)

In order to determine if the Arachnae inhabitants (some sort of giant ants) are intelligent or not, they need the help of Dr. Mary Sue Katalya Tremain. A biologist who is so, so brilliant, that Starfleet invented new medals just for her, and whose intelligence surpasses even Spock's. As soon as they learn she's coming aboard, Spock and McCoy start competing for her affection (yes, Spock too) by filling her cabin with gifts and flowers and whatnot. But when she beams aboard, it turns out that Dr. Tremain is actually an insufferable bigot who hates Vulcans, and can't even work with them. She's also a major crybaby that resorts to faking hysteria whenever she can't get her way. One has to wonder why Starfleet even allows such a person to be part of its ranks (well, maybe the fact that she's sleeping with a Commodore explains why). We don't see much of her legendary brilliance either, but we learn that she has big boobs. And yes, this book was written by a woman. Obnoxious as she is, she's still a Mary Sue. So everyone has to turn a blind eye to behaviors that would be otherwise unacceptable, and make sure the little princess is comfortable. After all, there must be some good reason for this woman's bigotry (there isn't, but whatever), since she's too wonderful to simply being an asshole. McCoy gets into full "I'm a lover, not a doctor" mode right after seeing her. And five minutes later, he's hitting hard on her, though he seems more of a lecherous creep, rather than a charming, southern gentleman. Ah, yes, he helps her unpack her things, which gives him a chance to paw the sexy lingerie inside the luggage (didn't you know? sexy lingerie is fundamental when going to explore a giant ant planet).

The first half of the book is just a really boring Freudian psychoanalysis of Tremain, only to determine again that, yes, she hates Vulcans, for some undisclosed reason. Meanwhile, McCoy can't decide whether he wants to be professional or horny. He switches back and forth more times than I cared to count. Two days later, he's fallen completely in love with this horrible person who mistreats one of his best friends. Anyway, Tremain friend-zones him soon, so he gets nothing but a little kiss on the forehead. Not that I felt bad about him; McCoy is an asshole in this book.

The second half of the novel gets a bit better, as Spock and Tremain beam down to the planet to meet the Arachneans. McCoy misses the beam down because he was busy chasing after some alien cat in the veterinary section. Yes, the horniness made him stupid or something. So when the giant ants attack the landing party, a lot of people die, and they don't even have a doctor. Kirk can't beam them up because Romulans have appeared to claim the planet, and he can't lower the shields. And that's what Kirk does for the rest of the novel: absolutely nothing. Meanwhile, Tremain and Spock have to work together in order to survive, so she's marginally more professional now. It's Spock's turn to be stupid, though, as he starts to make lewd comments about her, and spying her while she undresses. The reason being!? I don't know, something about proving she hates Vulcans (yeah, I knew that already).

In the end, Spock is attacked by the poisonous ants. And he mind-melds with one, to discover they're not, in fact, intelligent, so it's okay to leave the planet to the Romulans. The mind-meld, however, leaves him insane, and believing he's one of the ants. To restore his sanity, Tremain has to mind-meld with Spock, which is probably the best scene in the book. Then, while exploring her subconscious, it's finally revealed why she hates Vulcans so much. The reason is... she felt an unrequited love for her former Vulcan captain (gasp! I wasn't expecting something like that, no, not at all). Kirk finally decides to do something, and lowers the shields to beam them up, before Spock dies of poisoning, Romulans or not withstanding. He could have done so hours ago, though, before so many people died. Sigh...

Spirk Meter: 2/10*. Kirk stands firmly on Spock's side against Tremain's bigotry, and he's the only one who doesn't tolerate any of her bullshit, just like Chapel (you know, the two persons who love Spock the most). There's also a line about McCoy liking Spock, but not in the same way that Kirk likes him. Though, on the other hand, Kirk's very stubborn about following Starfleet's orders, even if it costs Spock his life, so I don't know... Characterization is hardly coherent.

There may be some Spones too. Tremain says that she can't really love McCoy, because she doesn't feel for him all the things that McCoy feels for Spock, which in her opinion, is love (she's quick to clarify it's not the same kind of love, but still...). McCoy also becomes quite hysterical when Spock's dying on the planet, while Kirk keeps calm. Apart from this, Tremain (who hates Vulcans because of an unrequited crush on one) functions as some sort of placeholder for McCoy himself. It's insisted upon how alike they are, and how they share the same hobbies. Spock calls her "Doctor" all the time, and his banter with her reminds a lot to that with McCoy. In fact, when Spock is being a perv towards Tremain to anger her, he compares his enjoyment of it to the one he gets from riling McCoy. It's rather telling how the author is taking everything from Spock and McCoy's dynamic, while using a woman substitute as a no-homo screen.

*A 10 in this scale is the most obvious spirk moments in TOS. Think of the back massage, "You make me believe in miracles", or "Amok Time" for example.

#star trek tos #star trek novels #novel review #k/s #spirk #spones

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thegeminisage · 6 months

Text

ok we watched the tng pilot. let's get into it

data is my best friend on this show and i love him

i liked riker but jonathan frakes looks like a baby without facial hair. he's gotta grow that in. also, at one point he asked someone a question and i got really excited. he should ask more people more questions i think thats what jonathan frakes was born to do. that and sit in chairs with style

also liked geordi even though we only saw him for 3 seconds and worf even though same.

the sections with q draaaaaaagged. ik people like q and whatever he has going on with picard but i'm just not there yet. this "humans are NOT savages anymore" plotline has been played out in tos many times to better effect

actually shocked picard was such a dick. idk why i was expecting him to be more kind maybe i was projecting professor x onto him?? but he kinda sucked lol like what was EVEN going on w his little pissing contest with riker

love and light, there should not be children on a starship. space is fucking dangerous. they're literally boldly going where no one has gone before. these kids could get hurt

the ship??? splits?????????? IS THAT LEGAL????

ok, furthermore, sorry, speaking of kids, not to be a misogynist but out of the 3 ladies (troi, crusher, and yar) i dislike 2 of them. love and light to deanna troi but i really hope she gets something to do besides emote and go OH THE PAIN...her look was slay. i understand completely how she turned women gay. give her something to do. give her a chance. i know she could be good.

i didn't mind dr crusher until she let her kid on the bridge even though you're not supposed to do that and they told him to touch nothing and he proceeded to touch everything and then she got mad when picard got mad. picard spent 70% of this episode being a dick and the one time he was justified she was like :/ wow you're such a dick. lmao. girl come on he literally said don't touch anything he was already being nicer than he had to be. the child was in the wrong children shouldn't even be on this ship

also they talk about wesley like he's their affair baby. idw if its true but nobody tell me. let me believe it. wesley crusher destined to suffer through male pattern baldness

also, i can see now why you're not supposed to date your ship mates. dating them is fine but being exes with them is excruciating and we had TWO PAIRS this pilot

anyway. tasha yar was rad i DID love her.

it's weird though how many of them use first names...in tos sometimes they didn't even use last names, only titles. spock called bones "doctor" almost exclusively. so riker calling geordi geordi after like 5 minutes of knowing him was a little weird

i cried when bones showed up. sue me. his prosthetics were terrible and i already miss him so much.

SPACE JELLYFISH. that part was good

overall both the adventure and the interpersonal stuff was a little ????? which is like. you can flop on one or the other. i DO have faith it will get better but i feel kind of lukewarm on it so far

there's a lot of direct counterpoints to tos, but it's shuffled JUUUST enough so it feels like it isn't copying tos's homework word for word but rewording it to trick the teacher. for example, data is like spock in that he doesn't understand emotions or whatever, but it's actually the inverse because spock understands and pretends not to, while data truly doesn't understand but wants to. then you have deanna troi who's sort of filling in for the other thing spock used to do, which is give us general impressions about unknown alien life, but she SPECIFICALLY does it through emotions so she doesn't resemble spock too much. the captain and first officer have a lot of scenes together but they're tense so it doesn't look too tempting to the slash fans. the doctor is still a bit grumpy but she's a woman this time. they don't use tricorders but geordi's special prosthetic helps them see all that shit anyway. it's tos but shuffled. lmao that it took 2 people to replace spock <3

anyway my favorite part, aside from the part bones was in, was when riker and data talked in the holodeck. and riker was like actually yeah the fact that you're a machine DOES make me uncomfortable. and data is like well i am superior but i'd like to be human actually! and you could see the little gears in riker's head turning and later he called data friend. i liked that and i love data. i love data he's very important even though the pilot wasn't good i think i would keep watching no matter what for data. and i knew it would be like that.

#personal #star trek blogging #tng lb #i'm SURE the women will grow on me. i understand now though why people want wesley crusher dead #sorry to wesley crusher i hope he grows on me too

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runnning-outof-time · 2 years

Note

Have just noticed that u hold a 1k celebration. CONGRATS!!! U r such a wonderful writer, you totally deserve it 🥹❣️

Thanks so much for your kind words! 🥰❤️

*I’m Celebrating 1K Followers...thanks for the love!

PSA: I have 2 more blurbs to write before I get back into my full length fics...if you send me a blurb idea/gif from now on, I will write it, but finishing it won’t be my first priority.

Some Exciting News

Warnings: none

This takes place in the snug at the Garrison. The entire Shelby family is sitting around the small room, as Tommy has called a meeting.

“Sorry I’m late everyone! I was running some errands and lost track of the time,” (Y/N) quickly apologizes as she walks through the door of the snug. She catches her breath and turns to face the family that’s gathered around the room.

They’re already responding to her statement before she can move further into the room; telling her that it was fine and that they knew to expect this from her by now. This wasn’t the first time she’d been late to a meeting before.

(Y/N) blushes at their responses as she walks the short distance to where Tommy is sitting in a chair. She glances down at him as she stops behind him and sets her hands on his shoulders. He turns to look up at her, his smile letting her know that he wasn’t bothered by her lateness.

“Now that we’re all here...does anyone have anything they’d like to start off with? Or should we get down to business?” Tommy addresses the room, looking around at each of his family members as they stay silent. After a few quiet moments, Tommy nods his head: “alright, business it is then,” he says before going into the numbers that the shop was bringing in, as well as the success they had at the Cheltenham derby.

“Things are only looking up from here,” Arthur comments once Tommy’s done speaking.

“You’re damn right about that,” John agrees with his older brother, a smile on his face as he sips his whiskey.

“Are you boys planning on going to every race after this for protection?” Polly questions with her one eyebrow raised.

“Yes,” Tommy nods his head before continuing, “for protection towards Kimber’s men and to also take bets while acting under our legal liscence now. John’ll be the head of that operation and he’ll take however many men he sees fit with him when he goes.”

“Fair enough,” Polly nods, pleased with the answer she got.

“Any other questions?” Tommy asks once the conversation about their strategies for the upcoming races is finished. There’s silence amongst the group, and Tommy takes that as his ok to continue on, “before this meeting is adjourned, (Y/N) and I have something we’d like to share...” he trails off, glancing around the room before he turns to look at his wife.

“Get on with it then...what is it?” Arthur calls out, impatiently waiting for whatever it was to be said.

Tommy raises his eyebrows slightly as he looks up at (Y/N), as if he’s seeing if she wants to start, or if he should. “We’re going to have to hire on some more help around the shop...” he trails off, hoping his wife would take over where he left the sentence.

“Why’s that?” Ada questions before (Y/N)’s able to say anything, her eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

“Doctor says I’m not supposed to be around anything stressful while I’m with child, so I figured staying away from the betting floor would do me well,” (Y/N) finally makes the announcement, and is immediately met by hollers and cheers from the other family members.

“Good luck gettin’ away from stress with Tommy as a husband there, (Y/N)!” John hollers jokingly, making (Y/N) laugh and shake her head. She squeezes Tommy’s shoulders and glances down at him, her heart swelling as he’s sitting there with a smile on his face as he takes in his family’s reactions.

Soon enough, Ada, Polly, and Esme are all coming over to (Y/N) to offer their congratulations’. (Y/N) happily accepts their hugs and kind words with a smile. She’s overjoyed that her and Tommy’s news is now out to those they care about most, and now she can’t wait until their little bundle of joy finally joins the family.

#tommy shelby x reader #tommy shelby x yn #tommy shelby blurb #peaky blinders #peaky blinders blurb #peaky blinders fanfiction #peaky blinders fanfic #root1kfollowerscelebration #fanfiction #fanfic

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gemini-sensei · 1 year

Note

Need more Robby x PregnantReader fluff :( that shit was sooo so cute

@sensei-venus is amazing at writing Robby 🙈 I'm a little jealous, but i got an idea for a Robby fluff, so here it is.

Robby Keene x Pregnant!Reader

Fem!Reader ○ fluff ft. Robby angst ○ unedited ○ goes with the future parents au (as I'm calling it ig)

I didn't know how to end this exactly, so sorry if it feels unfinished. Also I haven't been to a ultrasound since I was 5 so I'm going based off of basic knowledge lol. hope you enjoy!

Robby feels like a tornado is raging inside of him as he sits beside his wife. His leg his bouncing and no matter what he does, he can't stop it. There's no reason for him to be nervous, it's only a scan to find out if the baby is a boy or a girl. It's not as if they're there for anything else. He knows that they have a healthy little baby on the way, but there's something in the back of his mind telling him that something can still go sideways. Otherwise, why would he feel this way?

Reader squeezes his hand and he looks up at her, seeing her happy smile. It always manages to brighten to mood, even if he feels like his joints have turned to jelly and his stomach is flip-flopping. All of that eases with one look and a kiss on the cheek.

She giggles. "You're nervous."

It's no question. She knows. He knows she knows. Still, he wants to deny it. He hums and looked down at his shoes. "I guess."

"What do you want the baby to be?" she asks, turning all her attention onto him.

They were still waiting to be called back, like they had been for several minutes now. They'd arrived a little early and the doctor wasn't ready for them, still seeing another patient. Though it had only been a few minutes, it felt as though they've been sitting there for at least an hour. The entire time, all he could think about was their little one.

Their itty bitty little one it seemed, as Reader is hardly showing much at all despite being halfway through her pregnancy. Her belly appears more tubby than pregnant, which sometimes make Robby wonder if he's imagined all this. In comparison to Hawk and Miguel's partners, his wife was so small. Hawk's girlfriend was three times the size of Reader whilst Miguel's wife was even bigger! The glory of multiples, he supposes, silently happy that they were having just one baby.

In all honesty, Robby isn't sure if he'd be able to handle taking on more than one baby. His own childhood experience was far from perfect, in fact it sat on the complete other side of perfect. He knows little to nothing about babies, but he's been figuring it all out. So when it comes down to it, he isn't sure if it matters whether he wants a little boy or a little girl.

He just wants to be a good dad to them.

"I don't know," he admits softly, looking at Reader with gentle eyes. He smiles at her. "Whatever you want."

"I'm fifty-fifty if I'm being honest," she tells him, playing with his fingers. She spins his wedding ring, which he doesn't mind, and giggles. "Though, maybe I'm leaning toward a boy."

"Really?"

"Yeah." She smiles at him shyly. "I want him to be as handsome as you."

He smiles back at her. "I want our baby to have your smile."

"Really?"

"It's the most beautiful thing I've ever seen."

She starts to tear up and he can't help laughing. He cups her face in his hand and rubs her tears away with his thumb. "Aw, don't cry, please."

"You know I can't help it."

"I know."

He kisses her forehead and as he pulls away, the door opens.

"Keene!"

He stands and extends his hand to his wife, helping her up. They walk back and follow the nurse to a room. They get set up for the scan, Reader hopping up onto the table and lifting her shirt, a little ahead of herself in excitement. Robby is at her side the entire time, smiling at her as she talks to the nurse, updating them on how she's been feeling and how things have been.

The doctor comes in and laughs at Reader's enthusiasm, seeing her already ready for the scan. They all make their greetings to each other, Robby staying on the quiet side as his nerves resurface. The doctor puts on fresh gloves and sits, gels up Reader's belly, and grabs ahold of the wand. Once everything is ready, she gently puts it to Reader's belly.

The picture comes up on the machine and those worries Robby has having before are swept away. Reader had done a good job of distracting him in the waiting room, but nothing puts his mind at ease like seeing their little one. His cheeks hurt with how big his smile gets and he squeezes Reader's hand. She smiles up at him before looking at the screen again.

As the doctor moves the wand, inspecting the image, she nods and eventually says, "the baby looks healthy as can be. We're still a little concerned about their size, but they seem to be progressing just fine. They might just be a small baby at the end of the day." She smiles at the parents to be. "Now, I understand you two wanted to learn the sex of the baby. Is that right?"

"Yes," Robby and Reader answer together. They laugh at themselves, their excitement permeating the air. They feel silly, but in the best way possible. He coughs, calming himself, and says, "Yes, please."

The doctor keeps her smile, radiant and happy, and nods to them. She turns back to the screen, explaining how they're going to look to check. As she moves the wand, Reader does her best to sit still. She wants to wiggle with a mix of excitement and the sensation of the wand tickling her belly. Everyone's eyes are glued to the screen as the image shifts a little, hardly able to wait any longer.

"Ah, there we go," the doctor chuckles. "Tried to hide from me for a second there, but now I see. Congratulations. She's a girl."

Reader cheers with a squeal, new tears coming to her eyes as she shaking Robby's hand in excitement. She simply can't contain herself, she's so happy. She would be just as happy with a little boy.

"A girl, Robby. Did you hear that?" she asks, looking up at him.

However, he's still staring at the frozen image on the screen, a certain sparkle in his eye. He hears his wife, though, and nods slowly. "Yeah, a girl... Our little girl."

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bechloeislegit · 1 year

Text

Stuck With You

Chloe and Chicago have been together for almost two years, and Beca believes they will announce their engagement soon. So she is surprised to get a call from Chloe asking if the couple could spend a few days with Beca. Beca agrees but soon finds things are not as rosy as she believed.

Special Note from BeChloeIsLegit: I make no secret that Chloe is my favorite Bella from the Pitch Perfect movies, and Brittany Snow, the actress who plays her, is one of my favorite people in the entertainment business. I mean, the woman does it all and looks pretty damn good doing it. So, this is for Brittany Snow in honor of her birthday (March 9). I hope you like it!

“Hey, fans, Beca Mitchell here,” Beca stated while looking into the camera. “I hope you are all doing well. I’m taping this to apologize because I have to cancel my tour. I’m truly sorry, but my doctor has put me on vocal rest due to some inflammation in my throat. Please know that I was as excited about this tour as you guys were because I had some new songs that I wanted to share with you. All I can say at this point is that as soon as my doctor gives me the all-clear, my team and I will immediately begin to get the tour back on track. Stay well, and my team or I will update you via social media. Love you, guys!”

Beca turned off the camera and uploaded the video onto her Twitter and Instagram. She sighed as she sat back and ran a hand through her hair.

It was only seconds before her phone blew up with notifications. She picked up her phone and smiled at some of the comments.

Beca nearly dropped her phone when it rang. Nobody ever calls her; most people text her. So she answered the call without checking the caller ID.

“Hello?” Beca said.

“Beca!” Chloe squealed through the phone. “I just saw your Insta video. Are you okay? Do you need anything?”

“I’m fine, Chloe,” Beca said with a laugh. “I just need to rest my voice for a couple of weeks, and then I’ll be back in the studio and out on the road. I have more than enough of whatever I might need to help me get well. So, how about you guys? How are things in Spain?”

“Um, that’s the main reason I called,” Chloe said. “We’re in L.A. I was on my way home to spend time with my folks, and we had a stopover here.”

“Oh,” Beca said. “Are your folks okay? Why didn’t you tell me you were coming home and would be in L.A.?��

There was silence for a moment, and Beca wondered what Chloe wasn’t telling her.

“My folks are fine,” Chloe said. “I didn’t tell you about being in L.A. because I was only supposed to be here for about an hour before my plane was to leave for Portland. But, um, our plane was late, and I missed the connection. And I can’t get another flight out for a few days. Or find a hotel room that I can afford, so I was wondering if I could come and stay with you for a day or two until I can get a new flight out?”

“Of course, you can stay with me,” Beca said. “You know you’re always welcome here. It will be good to see you.”

“I don’t want to impose, but I don’t know what else to do,” Chloe said, sounding near tears.

“Do you want me to come to pick you guys up?” Beca asked.

“No thanks, I’ll get an Uber or something,” Chloe said.

“Okay,” Beca said. “If you’re sure.”

“I’m sure,” Chloe said.

“Great,” Beca said. “I’ll see you guys soon.”

“Okay,” Chloe said. “Thanks for this, Beca.”

Beca ended the call and went to the kitchen to see what she could fix for dinner while she waited.

Forty-five minutes later, Beca heard a car pull into the driveway. She looked out the window to see Chloe getting out of the car.

“Chloe!” Beca squealed as she ran out to greet the redhead.

Chloe looked up and smiled, pulling Beca into a hug as soon as she reached her. Beca went to pull back and Chloe squeezed Beca harder to her.

The driver started taking the luggage from the trunk. He set everything near the steps leading up to the house as Chloe and Beca continued to hug.

After a moment, Chloe pulled back from the hug, saying, “Sorry, but I’ve really missed you.”

“That’s okay,” Beca said with a laugh. “I missed you, too.”

Beca looked around and didn’t see Chicago.

“Where’s Chicago?” Beca asked.

“He’s on his way to Savannah to visit his folks,” Chloe said.

“Oh,” Beca said. “Let’s get you inside. I made spaghetti with meat sauce.”

“Sounds yummy,” Chloe said, reaching for her luggage.

“Sheesh, Beale,” Beca said, laughing. “When you said you were coming home, I didn’t know you meant for good.”

“Would you like me to take the luggage inside for you?” the driver asked.

“It would be great if you could help,” Beca said, grabbing a suitcase in each hand.

“Of course,” the driver said, following Beca with two more suitcases.

“Come on, Chlo,” Beca called back over her shoulder.

“Aren’t you supposed to be resting your voice?” Chloe asked as she grabbed the last suitcase.

“Yeah,” Beca muttered as she pushed open the front door and set the bags inside.

She stepped aside to let the driver in and told him to place his bags near the others. Chloe came in with the final bag and dropped it near the rest of her luggage.

“Thank you,” Chloe said, turning to the driver.

“You’re welcome, miss,” the man said.

“Do you need me to give him a tip?” Beca whispered to Chloe.

“I’ll do it on the app when I rate him,” Chloe whispered.

“Oh, okay,” Beca said, closing the door after noticing the man had already walked out. “Do you want to eat first or put your stuff in your room?”

“Can we eat first?” Chloe asked. “I’m starving. It was a long flight, and the food they served wasn’t all that great. Plus, I didn’t feel much like eating.”

“Okay,” Beca said, leading Chloe into the kitchen. “We can talk and catch up while we eat.”

“Wow,” Chloe said as she entered behind Beca. “This is a gourmet kitchen. When did you start cooking? No, don’t answer that. You need to rest your voice.”

Beca went to the stove to check her spaghetti. It was a little past the al dente stage but should be fine.

“I can talk; I just can’t talk for long periods. That being said, I’ve learned a few things about cooking in the past two years, Beale,” Beca said. “As a matter of fact, your mom gave me her lasagna recipe, and I can make it for you before you leave.”

“My mom gave you her lasagna recipe?” Chloe asked. “She never gives that recipe to anyone outside the family.”

“I guess she considers me family,” Beca said with a shrug.

“Hmph,” Chloe scoffed. “Then I guess you’d better not disappoint, Mitchell. I know my mom’s recipe, too.”

“I promise I will follow it to the letter, Beale,” Beca said.

Beca plated the spaghetti and carried the two plates to the counter. She placed one in front of Chloe and the other at her seat.

“Would you like beer or wine with dinner?”

“Beer’s fine,” Chloe replied.

Beca reached into the refrigerator and grabbed two beers. She handed one to Chloe.

“So, um, why isn’t Chicago with you? I thought you two were going to your parents.”

“He’s on his way to Savannah,” Chloe said. “I was the only one going to Portland.”

“Okay, what’s going on with you two?” Beca asked, rubbing her throat.

“Are you okay?” Chloe asked. “Is your throat hurting? Maybe you shouldn’t talk for a while and rest your voice.”

“I will as soon as you answer the question,” Beca said.

“Nothing is going on with us,” Chloe said.

“I’ve known you for almost ten years, Chloe,” Beca said. “I can tell when something’s bothering you. What gives?”

“You shouldn’t be talking,” Chloe said, grabbing her beer and chugging half of it. She set down the bottle, adding, “And I don’t want to talk about it.”

Beca exhaled and started to eat, glancing at Chloe between bites.

“Stop staring at me,” Chloe said.

“I will if you tell me what’s going on with you and Chicago and why he isn’t here with you.”

“Can we talk about something else?” Chloe said, pushing her food around her plate.

“If that’s what you really want,” Beca said.

“We’re breaking up,” Chloe exclaimed, throwing her fork down on her plate. “That’s the main reason I wanted to come home.”

“What happened?” Beca asked, reaching out to take Chloe’s hand.

“Excuse me,” Chloe said, snatching her hand from Beca before standing and rushing out of the room.

Beca remained where she was with her eyebrows raised to her hairline as she watched Chloe rush out of the kitchen.

“What the Hell was that?” Beca muttered.

After a few minutes, Beca shook her head and went to find Chloe.

~ Stuck With You ~

Beca found Chloe sitting on the floor outside the upstairs bathroom.

“Chloe?” Beca said as she eased down to sit next to her. “Are you okay? Do you want to talk about it?”

“I’m fine, and no, I don’t want to talk about it,” Chloe said, hugging her knees.

“Okay,” Beca said, wrapping her arm around Chloe’s shoulders. “I’m here when you’re ready.”

Chloe laid her head on Beca’s shoulder and wiped a tear from her eye.

“He cheated on me, Beca,” Chloe said, sniffling. “I caught him with some girl six months ago, and he swore it only happened because he was drunk and begged me to forgive him; so I forgave him. And then, two weeks ago, I came home early from a weekend getaway with some friends and caught him in our bed with another girl. I got angry and yelled at him and he said it was my fault he cheated. He only did it because I wasn’t giving him what he needed, so he had to find it elsewhere.”

“What a dick,” Beca mumbled.

“I wanted to come home because I couldn’t stand to be around him anymore,” Chloe said. “I should have left him the first time I caught him cheating, but I didn’t have any money. Then Chicago said he wanted to go home to Savannah and offered to pay my way so I could go to see my folks. I didn’t really want to travel with him, but I still didn’t have any money, and since he offered to pay for everything, I agreed.”

Chloe took a deep breath and wiped her eyes.

“The flight was horrible,” Chloe continued. “I kept talking about how excited I was to see my folks, and he kept trying to sweet talk me into going to Georgia with him. He didn’t want his folks to know he cheated and that we were breaking up. I got upset and yelled at him. And he yelled back that it didn’t matter what I wanted because he got me a ticket to Savannah, not Portland. I called him an asshole and got up. I was standing in the aisle yelling back and forth with Chicago, when a guy a few rows back from us offered to switch seats with me so I didn't have to stay next to Chicago. I took him up on it and moved. I was still seething when the plane descended into L.A. for the layover. Chicago tried to grab me as I exited the plane, but the nice guy who switched seats held him back. Finally, I was able to get off the plane. I was going to change my ticket to go to Portland, but it would cost more, and as I said, I don’t have any money. Then I saw your video and decided to call you. And now you’re stuck with me because I can’t get to Portland.”

“I thought you said you missed the connecting flight to Portland?” Beca said, furrowing her brow.

“That was a lie,” Chloe said, looking down at her hands. “I didn’t want to tell you what was really going on, so I lied, and I’m sorry about that.”

“It’s okay, I guess,” Beca said. “One question, though.”

“What is it?”

“How did you get all your luggage off the plane if you were supposed to be continuing onto Savannah?”

“Oh,” Chloe chuckled. “The stewardess saw how upset I was and sweet-talked the guys removing the luggage for everyone staying in L.A. to find and remove mine as well.”

“That sounds like something that would happen to you,” Beca said, smiling. "And I can understand why you felt the need to make up a lie. But you should know by now you can tell me anything; I will always be there for you, Chloe. Hell, I would have bought you a ticket home six months ago if you had told me about the cheating.”

“I know,” Chloe said. “And I hate to ask you this now, but can I stay here with you for a little while longer? I’m not ready to face my parents just yet. They think Chicago and I were both coming to visit.”

“You can stay as long as you like,” Beca reassured Chloe. “And I think you should call your parents and tell them the truth about you and Chicago breaking up; him buying you a ticket to Savannah, not Portland; and you not being able to get a flight because you don’t have the money. By the way, I will buy you a ticket when you’re ready to go to Portland. But please call your mom and tell her everything. You’ll feel better, and you know your mom will be glad to know you’re safe here with me.”

Beca put her hand to her throat and gently massaged it, grimacing as she did so.

Chloe grabbed Beca’s hand. “Oh, my gosh, are you okay? I shouldn’t be making you talk so much. Come on; I’ll make some hot tea with honey for your throat. It helped me when I had nodes.”

Beca let Chloe drag her back downstairs and into the kitchen.

~ Stuck With You ~

Beca went to her doctor two weeks later to have him check her throat. It was still bothering her, and she was afraid he would make her stay on voice rest for much longer; she wasn’t wrong.

Beca entered her house, frowning. Chloe was in the kitchen and heard Beca come in; she went to see what the doctor told Beca.

“My throat isn’t getting any better,” Beca said, grimacing. “I have to go on complete vocal rest. No talking, no singing, no exceptions for two weeks.”

“Why are you talking now?” Chloe asked, holding a pad and pen out toward Beca.

Beca took the pad and looked at Chloe with a raised brow.

“Write it down and stop talking,” Chloe instructed.

Beca opened her mouth to speak, and Chloe put her hand over it to stop her.

“No talking,” Chloe said. “Doctor’s orders.”

Beca shook her head, trying to get Chloe’s hand from her mouth.

“No,” Chloe said. “It will take much longer for you to get better if you don’t follow your doctor’s orders. Do you understand?”

Beca inhaled deeply through her nose and let it out, nodding.

“Good,” Chloe said, removing her hand from Beca’s mouth. “Now, write down who I need to call to let them know you’ll be on vocal rest at home for at least another two weeks.”

Beca huffed and flopped down on the sofa. She crossed her arms and glared at Chloe.

“Stop glaring at me, Beca,” Chloe said. “It’s going to be fine. I’m here to help you in any way I can. So, just relax and follow your doctor’s orders.”

Beca sighed and ran a hand through her hair. “I’m sorry. I just hate being sick.”

“I know,” Chloe said as she sat beside Beca, taking her hand. “On a happier note, I called my mom today. She said to tell you hello.”

“How are she and your dad doing?”

“They’re doing well,” Chloe said. “She, um, asked when I was going to come home.”

Beca sat up and looked at Chloe.

“What did you tell her?”

“I told her I didn’t know yet.”

“Call her back and tell her if you, um, if you leave, I’ll be left here alone. I don’t think I can handle being alone for a long period of time. If you’re not here to stop me, I’ll try to talk and sing, and then who knows how long I’ll be on vocal rest. Tell her I need you here. That my career depends on it.”

Chloe smiled and took Beca’s hand.

“Dramatic much?” Chloe asked, laughing. “Don’t worry; I’m not going anywhere. I already told my mom I wanted to stay here and take care of you because you are terrible at taking care of yourself.”

Beca scoffed and slumped down on her sofa. “I can take care of myself.”

“You just said you needed me,” Chloe said. She then pursed her lips in a pout. “Are you now saying that you want me to go?”

“What? No, I wasn’t saying that,” Beca said. “I love you. I mean, I love having you here.”

Chloe’s smile grew, and she leaned in to kiss Beca on the cheek. “I love you, too. I mean, I love being here with you, too.”

Beca put her hand to her cheek and smiled.

~ Stuck With You ~

The following two weeks were frustrating for Beca. Chloe was steadfast in keeping Beca from talking, so she constantly had to write down everything she wanted or needed to stay.

Having to write everything made Beca realize how much her writing looked like chicken scratches. They would often have a good laugh at Chloe reading Beca’s notes and saying something that made no sense. For fun, Chloe wouldn’t let Beca tell her what it was supposed to say and would keep throwing out ridiculous words. This would occasionally lead to Beca laughing so hard that it hurt her throat. Chloe would always apologize, but Beca would wave it off and write that no apology was necessary.

At the end of the two weeks, Chloe went with Beca to her doctor’s appointment. She spoke for Beca until the doctor examined Beca and gave her the all-clear to resume talking. Chloe asked about Beca singing, and the doctor said it was okay but that she should stop if her throat bothered her.

“Thank you, doctor,” Beca said as she left his office. “Come on, Chloe. I’m going to buy you lunch.”

~ Stuck With You ~

After returning home from lunch, Beca called Theo and told him what the doctor had said about singing.

“That’s good news, Beca,” Theo said. “But, just to be safe, take the rest of the week and come back to work on Monday. We need to get you out on the road and can’t have you canceling shows again.”

“Thanks, Theo, I appreciate that,” Beca said. “And I’ll see you on Monday.”

Beca left her office and went in search of Chloe.

“What are you doing?” Beca asked when she walked into the kitchen to find Chloe standing at the counter with a bunch of ingredients in front of her. “We just got back from lunch. Don’t tell me you’re hungry already.”

“No, silly. I’m making my mom’s lasagna for dinner,” Chloe said. “You know the sauce needs to simmer and then cool before I can put everything together.”

“Oh,” Beca said. “So, I talked to Theo, and he gave me the rest of the week off. I don’t have to report to work until Monday.”

“That’s wonderful,” Chloe said. “I think the extra couple of days will do you good.”

“I agree,” Beca said.

“Now that you’re allowed to speak, I wanted to run something by you,” Chloe said. “I can come back to this. Can we go into the living room and talk?”

“Is something wrong?” Beca asked.

“No, nothing’s wrong,” Chloe quickly reassured her, taking Beca’s hand and leading her into the living room.

Chloe sat on the sofa and pulled Beca down next to her.

“Chloe, what’s going on?” Beca asked.

“I, uh, realized something this past month,” Chloe said. “I love, um, being in L.A.”

Chloe paused and looked down at her hands.

“And?” Beca prompted.

“And I was hoping to look for a job and stay in L.A.,” Chloe continued. “And I was also hoping I could continue to live here with you.”

“So, you want to stay here?” Beca asked. “With me?”

“I’m staying here for you,” Chloe said, turning to stare into Beca’s eyes. “The thing I realized is that I’m in love with you, Beca.”

“You’re, uh,” Beca stammered. “You’re what?”

“I’m in love with you,” Chloe repeated. “And if I don’t stay, how else am I going to get you to realize that you’re in love with me, too?”

“I’m, uh,” Beca stammered. “Wh-what?”

“Don’t worry,” Chloe said. “You’ll see things my way before too long. I guarantee it.”

Chloe leaned in and kissed Beca’s cheek. She then stood, saying, “I’m going to go start the sauce for dinner.”

Beca’s mouth hung open in surprise as she stared after Chloe. She shook her head and followed Chloe, stopping inside the door to look at her.

“What makes you think I’m in love with you?”

“Oh, Beca,” Chloe said, smiling sweetly. “Sweetie, I don’t think you’re in love with me; I know you are.”

“But, but,” Beca stammered. “How do you know that?”

Chloe slowly made her way over to Beca, stopping just a foot away. “Are you saying you’re not in love with me?”

“No, that’s not what I’m saying,” Beca said, running a hand through her hair.

“So, you are in love with me?”

“Yes, no. Wait. I mean…Ugh, I’m so confused,” Beca said, looking around for someone to help her understand what was happening. “What is happening right now?”

“It’s okay, Beca,” Chloe said, stepping into Beca’s personal space and wrapping her arms around Beca’s shoulders. “Give it time, and you’ll be feeling it, too. And admitting that you’re in love with me will be the best thing that could ever happen to you. And me.”

“Oh,” Beca said as Chloe brushed her lips against Beca’s.

It was just a light brushing of their lips, but Beca felt like a lightning bolt had hit her. She pushed forward, wrapping her arms around Chloe’s waist and deepening the kiss.

It was Chloe’s turn to be surprised as the kiss progressed. Finally, Beca ended the kiss and pressed her forehead to Chloe’s.

“Um, I’m in love with you, too, Chloe,” Beca said, pulling back to stare into Chloe’s eyes.

“Good,” Chloe said. “It’s settled then. I’m staying in L.A., and we’ll start dating. I can’t wait to tell my mom about this. She’s the one who helped me realize that Chicago was never the right one for me because I’m in love with you.”

“Let’s go to Portland,” Beca said suddenly. “I don’t have to be at work until Monday, and we can give your folks the news about us in person.”

“I love that idea,” Chloe said, leaning in to kiss Beca. “And I love you.”

“I don’t think I’ll ever get tired of hearing you say that,” Beca said, smiling. “Let’s make our reservations for Portland and surprise your folks.”

“What a great idea,” Chloe said, leaning in to kiss Beca again. “But can we do that later? I’m kind of enjoying what we’re doing now.”

“Later it is,” Beca murmured against Chloe’s lips as she pulled her closer and deepened the kiss.

#BeChloe #It's Brittany Snow's birthday #Beca Mitchell #Chloe Beale

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driflew · 1 year

Text

it’s six sentence sunday. i do have six sentences, yes, but ive decided instead of posting them, im giving you the entire piece theyre from w incredibly minimal context

woe lamplight role swap be upon ye. we talked abt this in the server and then a few days ago i circled back to it w some friends and fleshed out the details more. god Martyn, paladin Ren, 1.7k words written in a frenzy before my DL session yesterday. this one’s treebark + very late in the theoretical Complete Storyline that exists between me and like three other people

Something is wrong. That’s the first thing Ren thinks when the shield starts to wither, the vines in front of him turning a sickly yellow-grey-black. Usually when Martyn finishes a fight, he simply calls his plants back, but this is… It’s as if someone cut the chord between Martyn and the shield.

But Martyn would defend Ren with everything and more, so if it’s started to die, something is wrong.

There are still voices outside the shield he can hear. Someone is laughing, and the sound comes through the thick vines.

“Holy shit, since when could you…?” someone says. His voice is harsh and tainted with a sadistic sort of glee that makes Ren’s skin crawl every time he hears it.

The vines at Ren’s eyes start to clear, and he grabs at the top, trying to pull himself up. He shouldn’t draw attention to himself, but he wants to see Martyn is okay, that Ren was simply cut off…

Ren doesn’t see Martyn. He peers over the shrinking wall for that familiar blond, but he doesn’t see it. The bandits, or whatever they were, don’t pay the vines any mind at all. They’re gathered nearby, standing over… something.

“I’ve never seen— did you see how much blood—?” another voice. Martyn’s shields are always so thick, the crumbling that overtakes them is much longer than any one off vine. Ren’s stomach turns as the vines crumble past his chest. What does that mean? Why is there blood? It can’t be Martyn’s, though, surely they’d notice if the blood was a god’s.

“I can’t believe you managed that in one hit.” Someone is laughing. Ren fumbles for the knife at his waist, not that it will do anything. Not that he’ll need it—Martyn is fine. He’s fine, and he wouldn’t let anything happen to Ren.

“How hard did you hit him?” She’s looking down, though Ren can’t see at what.

Martyn will be fine, he tells himself. The vines crumble away at his waist and past his thigh, and he doesn’t bother waiting for them to go any lower. He shoves himself over the shield as quietly as he can, but he’s still too loud.

A bandit turns, and when he does, he steps back to reveal what they’ve gathered around. Ren sees a familiar shade of green fabric, crumpled to the ground. He’s on his knees, though his torso is pitched to the side, so Ren can’t see his face.

Ren raises his knife. It isn’t threatening, not with the way his hand wavers, but he doesn’t care.

“Step aside,” Ren commands, sounding far more authoritative than he feels. The bandit actually laughs.

“What, you’re worried about your friend?” he asks. He’s big, much taller than even Ren.

“Yes,” Ren admits, “Take what you want from me, just… step aside. Let me treat him.”

The other bandit begins to smile.

“You want to treat him, huh?” she asks. “I hope you’re a damn good doctor.”

She steps aside as well, finally revealing Martyn.

It’s not that Ren hadn’t been able to see Martyn’s face before he was slumped over. Martyn simply no longer has one.

Martyn’s entire chest is splattered in shimmering red blood, down in places to his stomach. His body slumps sideways, leaking golden blood into the dirt. The cut looks clean, having cleared his head entirely from his shoulders. Ren doesn’t see his head, but he doesn’t look—hardly sees anything, really. His eyes are stuck on the fact the stump is still dripping, leaving a trail down Martyn’s shoulder and toward his hand, still curled around the withering vine that was once Ren’s shield.

“Martyn…?” Ren whispers.

Ren doesn’t even care about the small crowd. He drops the knife and doesn’t think twice about pushing his way through to Martyn, dropping to his knees at Martyn’s side.

“Martyn, come on,” Ren whispers, pleading, grabbing onto Martyn’s shirt. Somewhere behind him, someone laughs.

“I don’t think your buddy’s recovering from this one,” she says. There’s footsteps behind him, but he ignores them, pulling Martyn against his chest to support Martyn’s weight. The wound is so much clearer like this, though Ren doesn’t dare look—the nauseating mix of gold, red, and green are enough to make something thick and heavy catch in his throat, and he can’t tell if it’s the promise of tears or the return of his lunch.

Martyn isn’t… isn’t capable of dying. Martyn can’t die. He’s said as much a dozen times. Surely he’ll be fine, but maybe he just needs…

Ren looks up, but the day is so cloudy, there’s no sun. Is that why Martyn… got hurt like this? Not enough sunlight to stay powerful? He’s in the soil, but Ren’s eyes are starting to blur so much that he can’t even see if Martyn’s grown roots. Surely he’s put down roots by now. He’ll need them to… heal.

“Aw, I almost feel bad for him,” says someone. Ren doesn’t care who, his fingers tight in the soaked fabric of Martyn’s shirt. “Let’s see what plant boy died to keep from getting stolen, cuz it must be good.”

Ren shoves his face into Martyn’s shoulder. Blood soaks the skin around his eyes, but near instantly water clears it.

There’s a clattering of Ren’s bag being dumped open, but he can’t make himself care. The bag isn’t what Martyn died for and Ren knows it.

Ren wraps his arms around Martyn’s chest, soaking both of them in blood. He’d usually wrap his arms around Martyn’s neck, but…

God, they should have just handed over the stupid fucking bag.

“Aw, what? There’s nothing good in here! Who gets fucking beheaded for a watering can?”

Somewhere behind Ren is the clattering of metal on stone, and Ren’s blood would boil if his veins weren’t already shot through with ice. He wants them dead, but he can’t muster the rage for it.

“This isn’t funny,” Ren whispers into Martyn’s shoulder. His voice breaks on something wet, and he shoves his nose further into Martyn’s body to hide it, “Please, this isn’t funny.”

“It’s a li—“ starts a voice, but they cut themselves off. “What is that? What’s he doing?”

Ren doesn’t look. Before he can process the questions, he feels a hand on his back, familiar as Ren’s own. It snakes up the back of his neck, finding purchase in Ren’s hair and holding him in place.

Ren knows Martyn well enough to know don’t look. He screws his eyes shut, and somewhere behind him, someone gasps.

“What the fuck!?” “How did—?” “Drop the bag!” “Just run!”

Ren hears footsteps more than anything, but no screams of pain. Martyn’s scaring them off, he supposes—he wishes they’d die, but he’ll manage.

“You’d think,” coughs a voice, quiet and smug and achingly familiar in Ren’s ear, “if they’re going to comment on ‘so much blood,’ they’d at least look long enough to see it’s not normal.”

Ren pulls his head back, but Martyn holds it in place.

“Gimme a second. I’m not decent yet.” Martyn says, “You really don’t want to see me before I’ve put my face on, and growing something like that takes forever.”

“I don’t care,” Ren says, “I’m really mad at you.”

“What? I didn’t do anything.”

“Yes you did.” Ren’s hands cling hard to the fabric on the back of Martyn’s shirt. It’s damp, still. “Apologize.”

“No. What for?”

“I’ve never been so scared in my life,” Ren says, “You made me cry.”

“Thank you for that, by the way,” Martyn says, “Salt water isn’t ideal, but it can work in a pinch.”

For how callous he sounds, Martyn loosens his hand in Ren’s hair, petting his head. He threads his fingers through loose strands, carefully avoiding tugging on any tangles.

“Thanking me for crying is worse,” Ren says, and he almost wants to sigh—only Martyn could get him to stop grieving because he’s annoyed. “You owe me an apology.”

“Hmm,” Martyn says. He moves his hand to the back of Ren’s neck, scratching at the base. It feels nice, but Ren knows what he’s doing.

“You aren’t weaseling out of this,” Ren decides, and this time when he pulls away Martyn lets him.

“You’ve got blood on your face,” Martyn says, as if that’s noteworthy. Ren would hit him in the face if he weren’t so distracted by the fact Martyn had a face at all.

His face is entirely free of blood. There’s a clear line in his neck where he lost his head—everything below is drenched red-gold, and everything above it is as clean as if he’d just bathed. He’s smiling, but his eyes betray that he’s worried.

Ren wants to cry again. Just lost his head, and he’s looking at Ren like Ren is the one they need to worry about.

“And whose fault is that?” Ren says. Martyn hums, removing his hand from Ren’s hair to cup his face. He lets go just as fast, tugging on part of Ren’s cloak to start clearing the blood away.

Ren frowns.

“You’re going to use my cloak?” Ren asks.

“Mine’s too bloody, plus you’re already mad at me,” Martyn explains, shrugging.

Ren wants to smack him. Ren wants to grab him and shake him. Ren wants to take his face into his hands and never let him go. Ren wants…

“I’ve decided how you can apologize to me,” Ren says.

“I’ve done nothing to apologize for! It was those bandits!” Martyn says, arguing as Martyn commandeers his hands. “What do you want me to do?”

“Lean in,” Ren mutters, putting Martyn’s hands on his own face, “You’re too tall.”

“What?” Martyn asks, though Ren pushes closer to him. He tugs Martyn’s shirt, drawing him closer. When Martyn is only a breath away, Ren stops.

“You scared me. I thought I lost you and I was more terrified than I’ve ever been in my entire life. You made me sob, Martyn,” Ren says, “So apologize. Unless you’re still too stubborn.”

“I’m…” Martyn says, and he swallows, and he’s close enough that Ren can feel him breathe. That could almost be an apology in and of itself—Ren will certainly accept the relief in that feeling alone. “I can do that.”

#six sentence sunday #....loosely. this is many more than six #lamplight au #.........also loosely.#we've been calling this one leaflight. tho admittedly sunlight would probs be the name i would use if i published more of this #lew writes #'hey lew how is your work on lamplight going' well it sure is going places #leaflight au

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