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lovewriting-5 · 5 months

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Until Dawn

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

*Technically, Chapter 6 in game*

Chris, Ashley and I make it back to the cabin. The three of us split up and search the cabin for Sam. Ashley and I met in the main room of the lodge. I ask her “Were you able to find anything?” She says “No, you?” I say “No.” Chris runs down the stairs. Ashley asks him “She wasn’t up there?” He says “I don’t know…I didn’t see her. She must have come down here.” I tell him “We haven’t seen her either.”

We walk down a hallway as a candle suddenly lights. The three of us jump. Ashley says “Ahh! Did that just happen?” Chris says “Dammit! What is going on around here?”

The three of us walk down to the first floor and into the Cinema Room. Ashley says “Chris…(Y/N)…” I say “Sa - - What?” For some reason, Ashley chooses now to bring up what happened in the shed. She says to Chris “Chris I just want to say…what happened back there in the shed…I know how hard that was…Josh was your friend…” I tell her “Ash, I don’t mean to sound rude but can we please not bring up what happened in the shed?”

Chris looks at me with concern. He tells her “Ashley stop…” She continues “No, I want to say - - I mean thank you - - thank you for saving my life - -“ We continue down the hallway. Chris tells her “Sure Ash…Sure. I mean…I’d do it again.” I roll my eyes.

He asks me “(Y/N), are you alright?” I tell him “Yeah, I’m doing okay. It’s just hard to comprehend your boyfriend getting sawed in half.” Showing Ashley that I care that she is okay, I ask “Ash, you alright?” She tells me “Yeah, I just…dating him, it must not be easy watching that. And. Chris, I know you and him were close.”

“Let’s just find Sam, okay? That’s what we’re doing now.” Chris says. Ashley says “I mean, oh my god - -“ I say “Ashley, please stop, okay? I don’t want to think about what just happened.” She says “Chris - - (Y/N) - -“ He says “We’re finding Sam.”

The three of us exit the Cinema Room as the door slams behind us. I say “What the heck!” I try to open the Guest Room door. It opens slightly but then closes. Chris says “This is so eff-ed up!” I try and open the door again. Ashley says “That’s really creepy!”

The door to the hallway opens by itself as I see a figure walk across the other end. I scream and ask “Wait a minute. Did the two of you see that?” Chris asks “Did we see what?” I say as I point down the hall, “That, Chris. That.” He says “What ‘that’ was that?” I tell him “It was like…a see through shape. Like a ghost.” Ashley says “Oh boy.”

I tell them “I’m serious. Why don’t the two of you believe me!? I said I saw it, doesn’t that count for anything?” Chris says “We’ve been through Hell tonight. Okay? Your mind is fried. Our minds are fried. I don’t even trust what I’ve been seeing.” I look at the ground and say “I don’t know. I don’t know. I just…I saw something…” Sincerely, Chris tells me “It’s okay. You’re just…we’re all…kind of out of our heads right now. I mean we just…we gotta pull it together, okay? You with us?” I start “Chris…”

Chris says “Let’s just…let’s just keep our heads.” Ashley asks “Are we going crazy down here?” We make our way to the basement. Chris says “It’s the only place left Sam could be.” She says “I wish we could just go find everybody else, and - -“ I ask “What if Sam needs us? What if she’s in trouble?” She says, shakily “Oh god…”

The basement door opens. Chris says “Let’s go.” We walk down the stairs and are welcomed to a loud noise. An item flies out of a cabinet as there is another loud noise. I yell “WHOA WHOA WHOA WHOA YOU’VE GOT TO BE KIDDING ME!” Ashley asks “What the HELL is going ON!!” Chris and I are trying to find where the noise comes from when we hear Ashley scream. We turn around and Chris says “Whoa!” She says as she points to a rocking horse, “Oh my god that scared me!” I ask her “You knocked into it right? You knocked into it?” She says “I don’t - I don’t think so…I mean, I don’t know!! How did everything get so freaky around here? Door slamming and candles lighting up out of nowhere and that specter that (Y/N) saw - -“

Chris tells her “Ashley, I think you’re kind of ignoring what’s really happening here - -“ I ask “Don’t tell me the two of you didn’t see that translucent white figure just passing right by us?” He turns to me and says “We…We could be seeing things - -“ I tell him “I’m not imaging things!” He says “Yeah, well I saw things too! We saw what happened to Josh in the shed! And that’s what I’m worried about!” I look down at the cement floor, say “Oh…Chris…I know…I know…”

He says “You know what I’m worried about? Okay? I’m worried about Sam! What’s happened to her? If there’s some maniac out here then she could be dead too!” Ashley steps closer and says “Don’t say that! Please, Chris.”

Ashley walks over to a dollhouse. She motions us over. She tells us “Look-look look look! You can see in the windows.” Sarcastically, Chris asks “See what? Tiny furniture?” She says “No, it’s a whole scene, with dolls and everything!” I ask “Yeah?” Ashley lifts a compartment near the roof. The compartment reveals a keyhole. He says “Huh. I guess you need a key if you want to play around in there.”

Out of the corner of my eye, I see the ghost again. I point at it and say “Wait! Chris-Ashley-Chris-Ashley-Chris!! The ghost!!” They spin around. Chris asks “What?!” I ask “Didn’t you see it?” Ashley shakes her head and says “No.” A little annoyed, I say “You were looking at your phone, you dip! What are you tweeting?! Hashtag there’s a freaking ghost after us?!”

Chris says “(Y/N), calm down, okay. There is no ghost here. Ghost of what? You’re freaked out because of what happened with Josh -“ I tell them “You’re not paying attention. I saw it. I saw a ghost and it looked like Hannah! It looked like Hannah!” Ashley asks “Wait wait wait WHAT?” I add “Or-or maybe Beth.” Chris says “Jesus…What do you think they followed us up here from the séance?”

I said “I don’t know, maybe!” He tells me “They didn’t! Because ghosts don’t exist, okay?” I ask “Okay, who was talking to us at the séance, Chris?!” He says while massaging the back of his neck, “I don’t know.” All of a sudden, there was a scream in the air and an object hits the ground.

The three of us jump. Ashley asks “What did that?” Chris asks “How does a picture just jump off the wall like that?” Ashley notices something on the floor. She walks over to pick it up. She walks back over to us and I notice she is holding a key.

Ashley looks down the hall, points and says “Oh my GOD! There-look there!!” Chris and I turn around and see where she is pointing. He says “Wow, that’s…” I tell them “See?! You do see it.” He says “…that’s…I dunno…I-I just…This is fucking crazy…” He runs down the hall. Ashley says “It’s showing us the way!” She puts the key in the keyhole on the dollhouse. She says “This is unbelievable. I feel like the ghost wanted us to see this.”

Chris asks “Why?! What?!” Ashley opens the dollhouse and inside were dolls sitting in the bedroom. I ask “Whoa, whoa whoa-what is going on here?” She begins “Oh God! It’s like -“ Chris says “It’s not ‘like’ anything. That’s us. Hiding there, waiting for Hannah. Last year.”

Ashley to the dolls, “But…It’s so accurate, I mean that’s exactly where I was sitting…and that’s where Matt was…” I say “This was setup by someone. Who was there.” She says “Or someone, or something that was watching us…” I tell them “Maybe it’s a warning. I think someone…I think someone put this here to mess with us.” Ashley says “No, it has to be the ghost, it’s trying to tell us the maniac killed Hannah and Beth!” Chris says “I think it’s this bastard, and he’s…he’s just trying to fuck with our heads.” She asks “Why would he set this all up?” He says “He’s trying to tell us he’s going to come after us all too.”

The doll’s head turns to the side and the eyes open. We jump back in surprise. I say “Yikes!” The top of the dollhouse opens to reveal something inside. Ashley picks it up and it’s a diary. She says “It’s…It’s Hannah’s diary.” She turns to one of the pages and begins to read ‘I really think…Josh is doing better now that he’s out of the hospital…I saw him today - -‘ I look over her shoulder and look at when it was dated. I say “This was…before, a couple months before we all came up…”

She continues to read ‘I saw him today and he seemed…better…he’s pretty upbeat, but…he talked like he’s been doing therapy…for such a long time…guess I didn’t know, mom and dad never let on…Funny how you cannot even know your own brother. I kinda need a good cry…thinking about how lonely he must feel…’

Ashley gets to the last page then continues ‘everyone being together here…on the mountain…is gonna be so awesome…cozy fires and hot tubs…and OMG Mike…I am so psyched to spend some time with him…’ She adds “I can’t read this. It’s so sad…” She closes the diary and puts it back.

A door creaks open down the hall. I ask “What was that?” Chris says “It came from down there.” I go check out the noise. I open the door more and go through it. I am met with something. Chris and Ashley run in after me but the door closes and separates us. Chris and Ashley say “Goddammit!” Frightened, I say “Oh! Chris! Ashley!”

I bang on the door. Chris was able to get it open, he says “Nothing.” I say “But you did see it. For real.” Chris says “We saw…something. But where’d it go?” Ashley walks in and finds a lightbulb catalogue. She says “Hey…Hey, look at this. Doesn’t seem as old as some of the stuff down here.” I look at it, ask “A catalogue…for industrial lightbulbs?” Chris says “That is so random.” Ashley turns to one of the pages. She tells us “Look. One of the bulbs is circled.” I see which one it is. I say “That’s a powerful bulb.”

I find a hidden camera. I ask “Uh? You think it’s the guy?” Chris says “Well that makes sense.” Ashley says “I don’t like being watched.” I turn the camera around and ask “Better?” Ashely turns it back around and say into it, “Go suck an egg!” She turns it back around and says, “Now it’s better.”

We continue walking in the dark and damp basement with Chris leading the way. The shudders rattle. Ashley asks “Uhhh? What was that? Huh.” Chris says “Wait there’s a whole ‘nother room through here. It’s mammoth.” I say “I don’t know if I want to keep going.”

We continue walking a crumbling hallway. I ask “Where in the world are we now?” Chris asks Are you kidding me?” I ask him “Did you know this was here?” He tells us “This? This is like a whole ‘nother hotel. I had no idea this was here.”

Ashley says “I don’t think I can take any more of this.” Chris says “Yeah I’m about at my limit here too.” I say “All I wanted to do was forget last year ever happened…” He says “To be honest I’m not sure what Hannah thought she was doing.” Ashley says while looking at Chris, “Yeah…well…you know how it is when you’re crushing pretty hard on somebody…” I look down at the ground thinking of Josh.

Chris says “Great, so you’re basically saying that we put a vulnerable friend in a terrible situation and essentially caused her to run away and never be heard of again?” Ashley says “If it was you, don’t you think you would have run away? I mean who likes being made fun of?” He says “People don’t make fun of me.” She says “To your face.” He asks “What?” She tells me “Chris, we made her look so stupid, in front of all her friends and the guy she liked. I can’t imagine doing anything worse to somebody.”

I find a stack of fake newspapers that reads ‘Ex-Janitor Convicted For Arson.’ There was also a return address, ‘18th August 2014 Return Address: Quality Copy Ltd. 2100 - Clarke Ave. SW, Edmonton, Alberta, T6N 8J5.’ I say “Hey. These…are these fake? Why would anyone make fake newspapers?” Chris says “That’s a really good question.”

We keep going and come to a staircase that leads underground. Ashley says “You know what? No.” Chris turns around to look at her. He says “Ash -“ She tells him “No! I’ve had enough! I’m not going down any further into this nightmare!” He says “Ashely…I understand, okay? We’re all really freaked out too. But if Sam’s down there all alone with a maniac…and we leave? We’re basically killing her ourselves.”

I say “Guys…I’m gettin’ a really weird feeling from all this…” Chris asks “What do you mean?” I tell them “I just…I can’t shake the feeling that those fake newspapers have something to do with the guy who killed Josh.” Ashley asks “Like what?” He asks “Like it’s a…setup or something?” I say “Yeah…but…I mean, how? It’s just…it almost makes sense but it just feels like we’re missing something.”

We head into a room as the door slams right behind us. Ashley walks up to something hanging from the ceiling. She says “Oh no, you’ve got to be kidding me. Repulsive!” Chris says “This can’t be for eating.” She asks “Why the hell is it here?” He says “It’s like a goddamn grind house in here.”

I walk around and on a wall there were hooks and chains. Chris says “Oh jeez. This is so enticing.” I say “Oh boy…You think all this stuff is…his?” He says “Unless the Washingtons were into some freaky shit in their spare time, then yeah…probably.” I tell him “I’ve never seen this stuff before.”

Ashley finds a wall with photos of each of us. She says “That’s us.” Chris asks “What is this, like a fucking hit list? Christ.”

She goes into a room. We hear a machine start up. Chris and I go see where it is coming from. I ask “Hello?” She says “Oh god…it’s from last year…the stupid prank.” He says, sympathetically “Uh…This is a little…This is a little uncomfortable, huh?” She says “I’ve never seen this video…She’s just so…” I ask “So…what?” She says with regret, “She’s so excited…and alive.” I say “She has no idea.” Ashley all of a sudden sees herself in the video, says “Oh jeez.” Chris tells her “Whoa. I forgot you were such a willful participant.” She says “This is horrible. I couldn’t feel worse.” Chris tells her “You look like you were enjoying yourself.” She tells us “That’s the worse part, isn’t it? We were just playing a joke. It was supposed to be funny.” I feel tears starting to form in the corners of my eyes. I say “Yeah.” And walk out.

In the distance, I notice a red smear on a door. As I get closer, I notice that it looks like blood. I shout “CHRIS! ASHLEY!” They come walking out of the room to where I am. As they get closer, I tell them “Oh crap - look at that.” Ashley asks “Blood?!” Chris says “Might be Sam’s. Let me see if I can get this…”

Chris begins trying to open the door. He is getting it with a struggle. He says “Ungh…Got it…but…damn this thing is heavy -“ I tell him “Be careful!” He tells us “You guys gotta come through…Ash…(Y/N)…I can’t hold it…Ungh…Come on…”

In the room to the right, I spot a figure. I say “Oh!! Chris! Ashley!” They both say “What?” I tell them “I think I just saw Sam over there!” Ashley asks “(Y/N)…Are you SURE?” I tell them “I don’t know, but come on. I think we should check it out.” Chris who is still holding the door open, says “Well I’m pretty sure whoever’s bleeding came through here, okay? So we really got to get moving like now!”

I look from Chris and Ashley to the other room. I tell them “I’ll catch up to you. Sam!!” They both say “(Y/N) -“ I walk into the room as the door closes behind me. I shout “Chris! Ashley! CHRIS!!!! ASHLEY!!!! Help! I’m stuck!” I stop as I hear steps walking toward wood planks. I duck down as the Psycho walks by. Once the Psycho was far enough away, I butt scoot in the opposite direction. I then stand up and run out of the room. I open a door then shut it behind me. I walk backwards, mumbling “Shit shit shit shit shit shit shit…”

I keep backing up and then bump into something hard. I turn around real slow and scream, “Ahh!” It was Ashley and Chris. I say “ASHLEY! CHRIS!” He says as he puts an arm around my shoulders, “Hey hey hey - relax -“ I say “You guys scared me half to dea - ohmygod.” Ashley says “We weren’t trying to scare you.” I tell them “Sorry to disappoint you!” Chris says “Hey, sorry, alright - take it easy.” I tell them “The psycho. I just saw him.” He asks “What? Where? Where did he go?” I say “I don’t know! But we’ve got to be quiet! He’s gotta be…still really close.” Chris says “Awesome.”

We then hear “Please no!” I yell “Sam?” The three of us enter through a set of double doors. Ashley says “Oh, Chris. Oh no.” Chris asks “Hello?” I ask “Sam?” I walk toward a chair, cautiously and turn it around. Sitting in the chair was Sam in just a towel. I say “Sam!! Chris, is she dead? Holy shit, holy shit -“ Chris tells us “Shit. She’s not-she’s not dead.” Ashley asks “How do you know?” He says “She’s still breathing.” I ask “What the hell is wrong?” He says “I think she’s been knocked out.” Ashley says “Ohh. Oh no no no no no. This is bad, this bad!! We’ve got to get her out of here!”

Chris is all of a sudden knocked out with gas. Ashley shouts “CHRIS!” I shout “OH SHIT!!” We see that it was the Psycho. He goes after Ashley, she shouts “AHHH NO! GET BACK! Stay the hell away from me!” She stabs him with scissors in the left shoulder. He says “Oh, no nono, live and learn!” She asks “What?” He punches Ashley who gets knocked out. He says again “Live and learn.” The Psycho then grabs my wrist and yanks me toward him. He places the gas over my mouth and I drift out.

I am woken up by Chris saying “Ohh. Shit…oh crap…(Y/N)? Ash? (Y/N)!! ASH!!” I blink my eyes open and find myself tied to a chair, facing Chris and Ashley. Ashley wakes up and looks around. I see she has a black eye. I try and break free. Chris asks “Aw, Jesus, Ash - what did he do to you?” She says “I think…he hit me…” I shout “CHRIS!! ASHLEY!!” Ashley asks “(Y/N), are you okay?” I tell her “Yeah, I’m just tied to a chair. I’m happy to see you two.” Chris says “We’re happy to see you too. Shit. I’m gonna murder his fucking face off.” I ask “What is this?” He says “This is him. This is the guy who killed Josh -“ I say “No.” Ashley says “No, Chris…Oh my god no!! Oh god…Chris!!” He shouts “You murdering piece of shit! You MONSTER!” She says “Look around!! We’re gonna die! I don’t think I’m ready to die…” Trying to break free from the restraints, I say “No-one is going to die.”

Ashley says “I wish I could tell you…it’s just not fair!” Chris asks “What? Tell me what?” She says “It’s too late! Chris, what’s the point?!” He says “Stop it, just say…” I say “Ashley, just tell him!” She begins “We’re always talking around it, and now, I mean, we’ve wasted everything!” He says “Ashley…none of it was wasted.” She asks “What do you mean?” He tells her “Every second that I spent with you was the only thing I ever wanted to do with my time.” Ashley asks “What are you saying, Chris?” Chris says “I’m sorry…I should have told you how I felt.” She says “Chris!” He says “Ashley, I swear, when we get out of this -“

That’s when a saw from up above, turns on and slowly moves down. I say “Oh god!” Ashley shouts “AHH!! No! Help!” I continue to try and break the restraints. Chris says “I’ll get us out of this! I won’t let us die!” Ashley and I both scream and begin sobbing. A voice says from overhead “Hello there my special little subjects.” I freeze and look around. Ashley says “I’m so scared.” I say “Aw, shit.” Chris says “Don’t be scared.” The voice says “Oh, you should be, because here’s the twist: Chris has made one fatal choice already today,” I say “Oh no…no…” The voice tells us “and now he must make another. Chris…you can take that gun in front of you and shoot Ashley, or you can shoot yourself. Whoever is left, can live! The choice is yours.” Chris picks up the gun, points it at the saw and shoots. The voice laughs and says “Don’t be so silly, Chris.”

#Josh Washington imagines #Josh Washington x reader #Josh Washington fanfiction #Josh Washington #Rami Malek imagines #Rami Malek x reader #Rami Malek fanfiction #Rami Malek #Until Dawn imagines #Until Dawn x reader #Until Dawn fanfiction #Until Dawn

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alottanothing · 2 years

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The Beginning of Us

Summary: Mer and Evie's relationship blossoms amidst the charm of the New Orleans backdrop.

Previous Part: The Favor

Word Count: 5890

Warnings: none really, just a bit of language

Tag List: @ramilicious, @txmel, @edteche2, @gloriousdarkangelsworld, @diasimar, @freebooter4ever, @itswormtrain (Let me know if I missed you, or if you would like to be added to the tag list)

Make a request for this series!

This is a request going out to my darling @diasimar! #76 on my list--“I notice when you stare at my lips, you know. You can just kiss me and get this awkward part out of the way.”

A/N: Okay, let me start by apologizing for how long it took me to get this part pumped out and posted. My life got crazy for a hot minute and as a result, my muse went kaput. I'm hoping it will stick around for a while as I've barely scratched the surface of this series. I've got lots outlined and planned, so be patient with me and you'll get it, I just don't know how often, unfortunately. That said, I hope this was worth the wait. I'm so grateful for those of you who continue to read, like, reblog and comment on my work. It truly means so much to me. Thank you. :)

It was a month before Merriell cashed in his I-Owe-You tokens and officially took Evelyn on a date. Despite her assurance she didn’t mind him sporting a few bumps and bruises on their evening out, Mer had his mind set that he needed to be in ‘tip-top shape’ before he took her anywhere. Evie argued—eager to spend a night on the town with Merriell—right up until he insisted on making sure none of the pain stole away a moment of their time together. That was difficult to argue, and while Evelyn understood his reasoning, those four weeks felt like an eternity.

Thankfully, during all that time, Evie had her hands full trying to juggle work, an art commission, and playing nurse to her injured host. And while Merriell didn’t play into his injuries like most of the men she knew, keeping him still was like trying to pull teeth.

As the doctor instructed the night she’d brought him home, the best road to recovery for bruised ribs and busted knuckles was rest, and keeping movements to a minimum—something Merriell was not keen on. Like a toddler, Mer grew antsy quickly. Nothing kept his attention like tinkering in his shed or working his magic in the kitchen; spending all day, all but chained to the sofa was akin to a prison sentence for Mer. Evie felt bad for him, but she also couldn’t shake the idea of being responsible for his injuries, thus she did everything in her power to ensure he healed well and was as entertained as he could be. Evie even went so far as to enlist the help of Mrs. Gates next door to stay with him while she was at work both to give Merriell some company while he was recovering and to make sure he didn’t sneak off to his shed and aggravate his condition.

Admittedly, those first two weeks were the worst; however, Evelyn admired her own tenacity. Merriell was shameless: layering on the charm and tossing her those smiles as often as possible, doing everything he could in a not so sly gambit to persuade her away from all of her caretaking and the rules she’d set for him. Every time he cast her a grin, coupled with a slow blink, Evie’s heart pounded and her stomach filled with butterflies but each time she held fast to her composure and refused to let him have his way.

By the end of the third week, Evelyn (and Merriell, for that matter) could breathe a little easier. His hand was healed, and the bruising on his ribs was starting to fade. Only then did Evie loosen the reins some, allowing him to venture back to his workshed but only when he was fiddling with something less complicated than his usual projects. He obliged to that request with no hesitation, happy, it seemed, to be seated back amidst the grease and grime of his workspace once more.

Some days he even followed her to work, spending the day chatting to patrons as though he’d known them his entire life, and perhaps maybe he had. Evie liked hearing the soft tones of his voice or his deep intoxicating chuckle resonating through the general store as she worked, it kept a smile on her face; one she would miss when he was well enough to return to his own work.

After a day at Birdie’s, Mer would tag along and watch her paint the mural, adoration beaming from his expression the entire time she worked.

The most surprising thing about those four weeks leading up to the date he was owed, was the fact that Merriell’s flirting never escalated past the usual wit and charm Evie was used to. After agreeing to the date he wanted, Evelyn expected all of his smirks and glances and comments to cross the line of friendly into something a tad lewder. However, Mer remained kind and respectable, something Evie felt to be new territory for him and somehow only made her want him all the more.

***

The day of their big date arrived with ample sunshine and a wave of customers who proved to be nearly too many for Evie and Birdie to handle.

It wasn’t uncommon for the little general store in the quiet township of Bridge City to welcome a steady influx of shoppers; that day, however, the people seemed endless. To make matters worse, Merriell had left her that morning with a bouquet of wildflowers, a quick kiss on her cheek, and a smile that had all but knocked her to her knees. Nothing—not even a surge of needy customers—was strong enough to combat the blinding fog of anticipatory fervor Mer’s charm had evoked that morning.

He'd rendered her utterly useless with only a smile.

Focusing on even the most menial tasks was impossible; her workday was plagued with daydreams, wrong change, and uncounted inventory. When she left early, feeling both a fool and a hindrance, Evie apologized to poor Birdie for being so scatterbrained. The old woman only laughed and smiled, waving her hand dismissively, claiming there was no reason to be apologizing.

“You two just have fun t’night, dearie.”

Evie had one foot out the door when she turned, blinking with her brows furrowed in Birdie’s direction.

“How’d you—”

“Merry told me.” She grinned—giddy to a degree. “You best be gittin’. That boy’ll be off in a few hours.”

Evelyn glanced at the clock, “Right—see ya, Birdie.”

Mer, being in his words “fit as a fiddle”, was back to work, and that morning he’d caught a ride with a colleague so Evie would have his truck to get home. It was a beat-up old vehicle, but Mer’s constant upkeep had it running so smooth Evie always enjoyed being behind the wheel. On her way out of town, she made sure to stop by the grocery to let Jay Jr. know she wouldn’t be working on the mural that evening and he grinned, offering her a cheerful “You an’ Merriell enjoy yourselves!”.

She stopped, one foot out the door, again, with a peculiar smile on her face, still not used to the quirks of living in a small town: everyone knew everything. And while most would find such well-wishes an invasion of privacy, Evelyn felt heartened by the collective joy everyone seemed to throw their way. Strangely, she liked knowing that a handful of people were rooting for the two of them. The thought put the flitting butterflies in her stomach at ease as she drove through the southern countryside with the windows down and the wind whipping through the loose tendrils of her braided hair. Her heart was full, and her soul felt warm; her skin tingled and the smile on her face was well-rooted. The anxiety she felt was not some foreboding force but an intuition that she reveled in.

Nothing was going to keep her from venturing down the road Merriell had invited her to tread with him, and Evelyn hoped that path would lead her to a much-needed happiness they were both in need of finding.

The Shelton House, nestled prettily among the landscape was quiet when Evie parked the truck in its usual spot under the large oak, beams of sun filtering down to dance across the faded dash of the vehicle. A sigh parted her upturned lips as she took a moment to relish in the emotion, and the surrounding splendor before hopping out of the truck to make her way to the artsy corner of Mer’s workshed.

Merriell wouldn’t be home for a few hours, which meant she had time to kill in her makeshift studio. With inspiration buzzing in the tips of her fingers, Evie sat at her drawing table and began to sketch. Lately, the focus of her muse was the beautiful stranger who’d stolen her heart the day he’d fixed Jonny’s old car. Whether it was a simple, quick rendering of a smile Mer tossed her way, or a detailed, wannabe masterpiece of him lounging across the porch swing while the breeze tousled his curls, Evelyn could not keep from putting his spirit on some form of canvas.

However, as she sat alone, charcoal in hand, Evie found herself sketching remnants of him.

A still-life of sorts was beginning to take shape on the page in front of her: a depiction in gritty detail of his corner of the space they shared. From the soft, yet still grungy, textures of his shop towel—stained and ratty, slung haphazardly over his stool—to the tangle of mechanical parts strewn across his workbench, she captured it all. He’d left his coffee mug next to the ashtray where several stubbed cigarettes were left forgotten, to give the scene an even richer narrative.

To anyone else, it was nothing more than a mess of greasy barbels. But to Evie, everything held Merriell’s signature, and she smiled.

When her eyes wandered from her artwork to the dusty clock on the wall, she found that nearly two hours had flown by.

“Damn!” she cursed. Abandoning her tools, she bounded from her stool and raced inside.

Without taking the time to let the water heat up, Evie washed—mindful not to get her braid wet—and scrubbed away the toils of her workday along with the charcoal on her hands. By the time she heard Mer come home, she was already barricaded in her borrowed room, fretting over what to wear for the evening.

Never in her life had she ever been on an honest-to-god date. Most fella’s her age were shipped off to war before they properly entered the dating scene, and the ones that didn’t go to fight only had eyes for gals like her best friend—a beautiful blonde bombshell. The lucky girls found a man in high school—again, like Cynthia. Evie wasn’t envious; she'd had Charlie (Cyn’s brother) to fawn over in their school days, but the feelings she’d had for him couldn’t hold a candle to how she felt about Merriell.

Evelyn would always treasure the time she had with Charlie—always miss him—but looking back, he was nothing more than a dear friend.

As she stood at the wardrobe, mind full of bittersweet memories, Evie shook her head, feeling frustration slowly steep into her good mood. Mer made a point of keeping the details of their evening vague. All she knew was he planned to take her into New Orleans, and that he’d picked out “someplace nice” for dinner.

“Casual,” Evie mumbled to herself, weighing her options. “Elegant casual?”

She had no idea.

There weren’t a lot of options for her to choose from. Most of her wardrobe consisted of her mother’s hand-me-downs, none of which were rags by any means, but they had gone out of fashion nearly a decade ago.

She ran her fingers over the familiar fabrics, her mind brimming with memories of a not so far away past, knowing how much her mother would have loved Merriell. It made Evie’s heart ache to think she would never know him.

With a sigh, Evelyn drew a curtain to the thoughts of her family and chose a baby blue cotton dress from her own collection. The fit was just snug enough in all the right places to make Mer’s mouth water, a notion that pulled a smile onto her features.

She paired the dress with a pair of white pumps, adding a simple dash of makeup before untangling her braid. Evie did her best to work the waves into a pretty volume with a few brushes of her fingers, pinning it neatly where it needed until she felt confident in her appearance.

A content expression unfurled across her face as she glanced at her reflection; she almost looked as pretty as the women in all the cigarette ads. As she stood marveling and swaying—watching the movements of her skirt in the mirror—three gentle knocks tapped on her door.

Immediately Evie’s heart began to pound, a small gasp of excitement pushing past her lips. She was quick to the door, but her hand hovered over the brass doorknob long enough for her to take in a deep, calming breath before she pulled it open.

Without hesitation, Merriell’s eyes drank in the sight of her from head to toe, delight bursting on every corner of his face until he finally licked his lips and whistled softly.

“You sho are pretty…”

There was a slight hint of awe and disbelief in his tone, as though he couldn’t believe she was standing in the door way, ready to go on a date with him.

A blush rose to color Evie’s cheeks, and she let her gaze travel up and down his frame as well. There wasn’t a single trace of grease or dirt in sight. He smelled of rich cologne—not the cheap stuff he usually wore—a scent that tickled her senses delightfully. Even more alluring were his freshly shaven jaw and his slicked-back curls. She had never seen him look so much like a gentleman. He was entirely too handsome.

“You clean up pretty well yourself,” Evie said, batting her lashes and smiling.

Mer’s grin grew, her compliment lending him more confidence, making his posture grow prouder as he turned to offer his arm.

“You ready, darlin’?”

She was staring at the curl of his lips when she nodded, fervor bursting in her heart as she linked her arm around his.

Walking arm in arm with Merriell felt effortless; it made her dizzy almost. She was eager but did her best to reign in some of the emotions, trying to match his glowing demeanor. She could tell Mer was just as excited as she was, but his joy—while not reserved, per se—was calm and enchanting. Still, Evie found it difficult to combat each charming smile he cast upon her; every innocent touch sought to melt her composed exterior.

Mer was blessedly free of his masks; the genuine upturned expression he wore never fell as he led her to his truck and helped her into the passenger seat. Even as he drove, the jovial look stayed fixated on his features the entire ride into town. Seeing him so at peace and happy in her presence only made Evie that much more thrilled to be with him. All the shadow that had clouded them both seemed so far away as they journeyed into the neighboring big city.

The sun was beginning its slow descent when the flourishing city of New Orleans sprouted around them, and immediately Evelyn felt a spasm of exhilaration shudder through her.

She’d only been to the neighboring city once: the day the train dropped her and Jonny into the bowels of the unknown. There’d been a naive sort of hope bursting in her heart that evening—one she would have to wait 18 long months to fully find—though, admittedly, she’d paid little attention to the beauty of the new metropolis around her. But as Mer wove the city streets with expertise, Evie was nothing short of enchanted.

A certain charm lingered in the atmosphere that most cities lacked; New Orleans sparkled with the grandeur of a thriving city akin to New York but held fast to the small-town ambiance Bridge City harbored. There was color in every building, character, and old narratives that invited the creative soul Evelyn nurtured. Perhaps the magic only stemmed from the city’s newness. Even so, New Orleans felt like a dream she would not soon be ready to wake from.

“It’s so beautiful,” she mused, an awed smile on her face as she marveled out her window.

“Bienvenu dan le grand facile, charie.” [Welcome to the Big Easy, darling]

Suddenly, the view out her window lost some of its luster as she turned her spellbound expression to Merriell.

“You can speak French?” she gasped. Just when she thought he couldn’t be any more charming…

Mer beamed a proud grin that was oozing that arrogant charm she was so drawn to.

“Oui, tres bien.” [Yes, quite well] he said, smile growing. “Le faites vous?” [Do you?]

“Not well,” Evie confessed. “I know a few phrases—Pa was stationed in France during the Great War, so he tried to teach my brother and me, but it never stuck. You speak it beautifully.”

“Ah merci, mon cher.” [Ah thank you, my dear]

“Do you plan on speaking French all night?” Evie smirked, brow raised.

Honestly, she wouldn’t have minded, she just wished she’d had the foresight to pay more attention to her father all those years ago.

Merriell chuckled and shook his head.

“I ‘spose I shouldn’t, seems as how you wouldn’ understand mucha what it is I’m sayin’.”

Evie laughed too, caught up in a whirlwind brought on by the city, the setting sun, and Mer himself. Her face almost hurt from smiling, although she couldn’t be bothered. That was a pain she would be willing to endure any moment, for as long as she lived.

“Did you learn to speak it in the service?” she asked, finally feeling like it was okay to dip her toes into the pool of Merriell’s past.

His grin, however, lost a significant amount of its splendor—fighting off a mask from taking over his expression—before he shook his head.

“Nah—” he said vaguely. “My Momma’s maiden name was la Roux. Her family’s been in these parts forever, every one of ‘em spoke French. So she made damn sure my sistah and me spoke it too.”

Evie watched the corners of his mouth slowly quirk back into a soft grin as the thought of his time in the service became veiled by happy memories of his childhood.

“We was babblin’ in French as kids before we evah spoke a lick of English,” he mused before pulling the truck along the curb to park.

He was looking at her softly when Evie’s eyes met his, bestowing another look that seemed in awe somehow, never mind how reserved it was. For Merriell, actions spoke louder than words, and she could see in his eyes everything she felt inside of herself glittering in the green of his irises.

“This place okay?” he asked, looking pointedly out her window.

Evie followed his glance to find a quaint, but upscale bistro just past her window. The front patio was nestled among a garden of flowering plants and hanging ferns, each one seeming to glow from the flickering candles laid at the center of every table. Somewhere jazz music played, which served to make the glory of the corner eatery even brighter.

“This is perfect,” Evie murmured, struck nearly speechless with enchantment.

Merriell wasted no time springing from his place behind the wheel to her side of the vehicle to open her door and take her by the arm like a true southern gentleman. The only crack in his charade was that devilishly charming smile that reeked of rascally behavior.

The host seated them at a table on the patio—upon Mer’s request—that was far from many of the other patrons. Each empty table and the lush greenery surrounding them garnered the illusion of privacy which made the evening quiet and intimate. Evie’s heart was pounding as Mer graciously pulled out her chair, making her wonder how far he was going to take the whole Prince Charming act.

After weeks of living under the Shelton roof, she knew Merriell was happiest covered in grease, cursing like a battle-hardened Marine, smoking and drinking more than his share. And while he’d always been kind and respectful, Evie doubted he had a habit of performing so reverently with other women he courted. Under all that charm and pleasantness, he was a scoundrel, which, for Evie, only made him even more alluring.

In fact, Evelyn derived a hint of confidence from his supposed caution; he wanted to take his time with her. She was someone he wanted more from than a couple of nights of pleasure before moving on.

At least, Evie hoped that was the case…

When the waiter came to take their order, Mer asked for a bottle of wine: a French vintage with a name he articulated perfectly. The sound of his deep voice forming those foreign words prickled her skin with goose bumps and she felt silly for finding something so simple so beguiling. Neither of them said much right away, caught up in the magic and the nerves that were usual for a first date. Even when their food came the two said little more than how good their dinner tasted. It was strange to share a meal unaccompanied by a story or a joke: conversation always flowed for them so effortlessly. And yet as they sat tongue-tied before their entrée, the quiet was serene instead of awkward. There was more in the way Merriell smiled or the way he glanced at her from across the table than any words either of them could piece together. Neither one of them wanted to mess up.

By the time each of them had two glasses of wine, both seemed to once again find the conversation they were used to having.

“So,” Evie began emboldened by her drink. “Where is this elusive sister of yours whose bed I’ve been sleeping in?”

Her buzz fostered the confidence she needed, and ebbed the caution she usually held when it came to asking Mer personal questions. It helped that he’d taken the initiative to ask her on a date; she meant more to him than a simple friend, thus, Evie felt entitled to have a peek behind the curtain. She yearned to know more about him than his interest in mechanics and his ability to speak French.

“Mills?” The corners of his mouth quirked into a strong smile.

They’re close—she deduced: a thought that filled Evie with enveloping warmth.

“Millie got a scholarship ta one of those fancy schools up north on the coast—don’t ‘member which one.”

“A scholarship?” Evie’s brow hooked high, she was both impressed and intrigued.

Merriell nodded, “yup. Beat out a bucha fella’s for it too. She’s a brat, an’ a brainiac, but there ain’t a soul on earth more proud of her than I am.”

Seeing such genuine softness in the expression on his face made Evelyn’s heart swell.

“Soon as her schoolin’s done for the summah, she’ll be comin’ back till fall.”

“That’ll be nice,” Evie mused, her smile fading somewhat, jealous to a degree that he had family to still welcome home.

Both were quiet for a beat, his eyes watchful, and she wondered if he could read the grief that dwelled in her mind from the waning smile on her face.

“Can I ask you a question?” Mer spoke gently a moment later, his devil-may-care bravado taking on a serious tone.

“Of course.”

“Why the Hell did you come runnin’ so far south with a fella like Jonny?”

There was hesitance in his voice, but compassion as well. Curiosity drove his question, not anger or his want to lecture her on her foolish choices. Evie was thankful for that—more than tired of Cynthia’s endless scolding. Even so, she sighed, unsure where, or how to begin her answer.

“Well, that’s it—I ran away. Jonny was just my free ticket somewhere else that happened to come with some unfortunate fine print.”

“But why’d you run?” Mer asked, concern brimming in his expression. “I don’ mean to pry, an’ you don’ have ta tell me, but that’s an awful long way ta run.”

“It is…or was…” Evie agreed, eyes falling to where her fingers traced the bottom of her wine glass, taking a moment to work through her memories.

“I was close to my family—really close…and I lost them.” It felt good to talk about it, and flush out the wound. “My pa died fighting in Europe, and my brother went missing behind enemy lines not long after that. Ma got sick in the midst of it all—couldn’t shake it. But, I think it was losing my pa and my brother that got her in the end…almost got me too.”

Evie swiped at a tear before it could ruin her makeup.

“I ran because I couldn’t stand being in a place they weren’t in anymore.”

Mer reverently hung his head.

“I know what that’s like—I’m sorry you lost people you care about.”

“I’m sorry too,” Evie murmured, reaching to take his hand in hers across the table.

She squeezed his fingers, and Mer glanced up to meet her gaze before she spoke again.

“Birdie told me when you came home from fighting, everyone you grew up with—”

“Everyone’s got ghosts now—you ran from yours. I bottled mine up.”

He released her hand to take a long drink from his wine glass, downing almost half of it.

It was clear the war and his past were still a tender subject for him; they required a certain level of vulnerability he was still not keen on showing just yet.

“Do you think you’ll ever unbottle them?”

He shrugged, “I like ‘em bottled—helps me sleep at night.”

She nodded her understanding, deciding not to press him any further; the air was swiftly becoming a cumbersome impediment that sought to ruin an otherwise wonderful evening.

Evie’s eyes drifted back to the smooth bottom edge of her glass where her finger absently brushed back and forth while Mer fidgeted across from her: gnawing his bottom lip. Her periphery caught him as he ran his hand through his hair, disrupting the product enough for some of the volume to return to his curls. There was a furrow on his brow, but no anger on his face, just traces of emptiness and that sadness he only showed when he thought she couldn’t see him. Despite the wrinkle in his expression, Evelyn laid her focus on his freshly tousled hair. Somehow the softness of his boyish curls was powerful enough to combat the gloom—for her at least.

Evie let another moment pass, watching the line of Mer’s face fade incrementally before finishing her drink and clearing her throat.

“My brother used to send letters home,” she said, her tone soft.

If he was uncomfortable speaking openly about his experiences, then perhaps she could coax some out of him by talking about her own.

“He would touch on the horror he was seeing, but mostly he talked about the guys he was with. It was easy to tell in the way he wrote about them that they were like his own brothers.”

That line returned on Mer’s brow, the sparkle in his eyes glazing over as he fell back into memories of a time not so long ago. He shifted in his chair and swallowed thickly.

In her attempt to peel back one of his layers, it seemed she’d instead added another. The heaviness was back in the air, this time more ponderous.

“I was glad for it,” Evie added quickly hoping to steer the intent of her story down the path she’d meant. “I knew he wasn’t alone over there.”

He still wouldn’t look at her, but his head bobbed slowly in agreement.

The look on his face was far from the quiet serenity of their New Orleans setting; Mer was, instead, marching threw destroyed jungles, battling more than simply heat and exhaustion.

“Were you close to anyone in your division?”

Merriell reached for the bottle of wine and poured what was left into his glass before throwing it back with all the ease of a seasoned alcoholic.

“Sorry,” Evie’s focus fell away from him, the fervent rhythm of her heart loud in her ears. “We can talk about something else.”

He said nothing for a long while, taking a few deep breaths, then shook his head.

“No…it’s fine…”

Clearly, it wasn’t, but his voice was the opposite of his rigid posture—gentle but guarded. That part of the war he could stomach speaking about: people other than himself.

“I was close to a few of ‘em.” He murmured, still looking lost.

Some of the sullen air ebbed, and Evie’s own posture straightened a bit.

“Do you keep in touch?”

He shook his head, the glum expression more akin to disappointment instead of recounting thoughts of war. Merriell missed them, maybe only somewhat, but he missed them; Evie could see it so clearly.

“I ain’t heard a peep from anyone since I got off that train.”

Evie frowned—heart aching for him.

“You haven’t tried reaching out to any of them?”

Surely the bonds forged in war were among the strongest ever to be had. Fellow soldiers were not simple, fleeting, acquaintances; like her brother had all but written, they were brothers. And while Mer was reluctant to bring down any walls in regard to talk of battles fought, it was obvious he shared the same sentiment. He needed someone who knew his struggles firsthand; Evie knew she could never be that person for him. Nevertheless, she could always be there when he needed someone.

Mer shrugged, “Allah them fella’s live miles from here—Sledgehamma’s prolly the closest…”

Evie’s brows furrowed and she smiled gently, “Sledgehammer?”

Surprisingly, a faint, but fond smirk pulled at the corners of his mouth.

“Eugene Sledge—tough son of a bitch. Alabama boy.”

“You could write him, you know,” Evie suggested, seeing the levity begin to creep back into his features.

“’Spose I could…”

He wouldn’t. Evie knew that without question.

Merriell wasn’t the type to keep in touch; hell, he barely kept in touch with his own sister. He didn’t like to be a bother to anyone even if it came at his expense. Evie made a mental note to look into Mr. Sledge from somewhere in Alabama for Mer’s sake, and her curiosity.

“How ‘bout we go for a walk?” he asked suddenly, casting her a charming grin to help deter any more talk of war and loved ones lost forever. “New Orleans is magical unda the stars.”

Relief enveloped Evelyn hearing his want to continue their date after her failed attempt to peek into his past. She feared prying, ever so gently, would set them back several paces. It meant everything that he still wanted to share an evening with her.

Perhaps even more astonishing was the power of his smile and the gentle expression he held with it. The heavy air evaporated, and the majesty returned as though it was never there to scuttle their time together. Evie melted under that smile, and she found herself powerless to keep from smiling back.

“It’s probably gonna rain soon, so we bettah go now before the clouds swallow ‘em up.” He added tossing a glance to the heavens.

Evie’s eyes followed; he was right about the canvas of stars overhead being magical. As for the rain, there wasn’t a cloud in the sky.

“Sounds wonderful,” she said smiling at him.

Merriell stood fluidly, offering her his arm once more like a proper gentleman, and she eagerly linked herself to him, utterly intoxicated with adoration.

The melancholy of their conversation drifted far away, stolen by the spring breeze that—just as Mer had predicted—began to push clouds over head. Nevertheless, they paid the ominous sky little heed, too enthralled with the sights and sounds of New Orleans.

Artistry pumped life into the sleepy city along the Mississippi; New York felt almost sterile in comparison. The stately homes, gas lamps, and moss-covered trees were among the few captivating sights telling stories rich with history while radiating a kind of exuberance one could only find in the south. Evie never wanted to leave.

Time felt frozen as they strolled through the French Quarter, unable to surrender their soft smiles. Evie could feel Mer’s eyes on her, gentle and observant as he lived vicariously through her eyes, able to see all those familiar things for the first time again. They stopped for a while to listen to a musician on a street corner playing jazz on his well-loved saxophone, and those soulful melodies pulled Mer’s grin wider as he tossed several coins into the man’s open case before the two of them carried on.

As they neared the bistro, thunder tolled like the ring of church bells issuing a baleful warning that quickend their pace, but only slightly. Not even the threat of a storm was going to dampen what remained of their date. Others rushed around them in search of shelter and they alone seemed unbothered.

Only when Merriell’s truck came into view did the heavens open up.

“Shit!” Mer exclaimed, chuckling as he tugged Evie under a small overhang out of the rain. “We was so close!”

“Oh well,” she laughed.

The small cubby left them no choice but to huddle together: Mer’s back against the dry brick while Evie stood pressed to him, palms flat on his chest. She could feel his gaze on her, the beat of his heart under the tips of her fingers, the heat of his breath beating against her cheek. And before her eyes could even venture to meet his, they stopped at his lips abruptly aware of their proximity to her own.

All at once, her throat was dry, and she felt dizzy. Never had she been so close to him. Her heart was absolutely racing.

Slowly, she watched as his lips spread into the most devilish of all his smiles.

“I notice when you stare at my lips, ya know.”

The low bravado of his voice lit her senses up like fire, and the fog in her head grew impossibly denser.

“You could just kiss me an’ get this awkward part outta the way if ya wanted.”

Evie’s heart skipped and her breath caught, her eyes finally fixating on his. There was a delight in them so grand, and so overwhelmingly enchanting that his expression alone riddled her with want.

Despite the dubious charm and cocky comment, Merriell hesitated so she could make the first move: once again keeping a respectful pace so she felt comfortable. The notion settled warmly and the confidence it elicited made her lips curl into a matching smile.

Gently, and without breaking eye contact, Evelyn reached for the knot of his tie and pulled his lips to hers as she guided them back into the warm rain.

The moment he kissed her back, she knew she was done. Merriell owned her heart, body, and soul.

His lips were soft and perfect against hers, respectfully hesitant in their movements, yet still hungry enough to leave Evie yearning for more. And when the feel of his fingertips pressed into her hips, she was soaring on cloud nine.

When it was over, all either of them could do was stare in wonder, oblivious to the rain soaking them.

A slow, playfully arrogant smile worked onto Mer’s face, his styled curls ruined and clinging to his forehead as water dripped from his sharp features.

“You—uh—wanna do me a favor an’ run that by me again?”

With a smirk and a nod, Evie wrapped her arms around his neck, and his looped around her waist, pulling her snug.

“Gladly,” she murmured, kissing him deeper than before.

#Beautiful Stranger Series #Merriell Shelton x Original Character #The Pacific #Snafu Shelton #HBO War #Snafu #The Pacific Fanfiction #Rami Malek #Rami Malek Fanfiction #Merriell Shelton

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allmyocsarebritish · 2 months

Text

A passion for exploration

(Known in my notes as ahkaeology)

Pairing: Ahkmenrah X reader

Warnings(?): Grave robbing

A/N: okay okay I know it's really odd that a wednesday blog is now posting for natm but I went down a rabbit hole and I'm afraid I lost the entrance. History nerd has shown through well and truly :')

Also my first multi part fic :D

Title is courtesy of my mate Abi using AI

Ch 1

Grave robbing

Was desecrating the tombs of these once honoured, omnipotent kings of Egypt really something you were willing to do? Had the circumstances preceding the grave robbery been less bleak, the answer would have undoubtedly been an definitive no. These rulers commanded the uptmost respect in life, and here you were, excavating the only memory that remained. There wasn't a day that went by during your expedition in which guilt did not infiltrate your mind, suffocating your conscience and depriving you of any sleep, even before you came close to finding an ancient tomb. But it wasn't like you had any other choice.

Pushing down your gnawing feelings of dread, you trekked on through the Egyptian desert. Rough sand brushed against your lower legs beneath your simple, calf-length skirt, chafing at the skin. You were the only one of the troupe resigned to walking, as the youngest and the lowest class. Astride camels, the two men had a better view of the surrounding plains, though the blank, barren flats stretched on long beyond the horizon.

"The valley of the kings shan't be too far from this place" called Lord Carnarvon, map still in hand.

You held back a scoff, rolling your eyes as you knew he wasn't looking at you. If only he would admit none of you knew where you were going. The only clue you were given was that the gold rich landmark was announced by a grand pyramid at the end of a hollowed valley consisting of a multitude of others. What a shame that this was the Egyptian desert.

Filled with pyramids.

Days and days stretched on of travel, and eventually, you stopped counting the sunrises, resigning to the fact that this would only stop when the valley was found, however long that took.

As with most great things, the discovery of the valley occurred at a time when you least expected. You had taken advantage of a small oasis, resting for a few hours and permitting the camels an indulgent drink. Howard Carter dozed beside you, hat pulled low over his face, in order to shield his resting eyes from the blazing fire of the sun. Carnarvon had taken his liberty and ran off, or so you had hoped. No, in fact he was continuing the investigation alone and on foot, clutching a worn, shoddy map, which was twinged a grimey brown with years of filth accumulated around the edges of the paper. He never strayed far, though attempted to work out his bearings, using the wind or some pretentious bullshit you never bothered listening to. No, you were perfectly content drawing in the sand with a stick you had found and claimed an hour or so prior.

You were more than unimpressed when the sketches you had so tediously etched into the sand were scattered by Carnarvon sprinting back to the small camp. Jolted awake, Carter sat up sharply, alarm etched across his features.

"Blimey, good sir! You gave me quite the fright!" He exclaimed as you nodded in agreement.

"Are you alright?" You asked, though your eyes may have given away your disinterest (had either man been paying an ounce of attention).

"Shh!" Carnarvon interrupted your pleasant concern, to which you rolled your eyes and began attempting to recover your drawings. "Carter, good sir! I dare say I've found it. I've discovered the pyramid!"

A bold statement, and not the first time either. No, twice prior you had been dragged into the colossal ancient skyscrapers, only to find they were far from your true destination. Empty of any treasure or historical worth beyond the buildings themselves, you continued on, fruitless. Grand structures were quite an obvious goldmine, and previous grave robbers had left the tombs void of, well, anything.

Though of course, it was more than worth it to explore this fresh discovery, not taking any chances.

Time was of the essence, or so you were told. Camels saddled up in record time, you were hoisted up from your seat on the floor by Carter, borderline dragged up.

"Come, young Y/N, you heard his lordship. We may have found the Valley. Hurry on, now" his words were gentle, still treating you as he had done in your childhood, despite the fact you were now 19. It was something that you both appreciated and hated simultaneously. Howard was kind to you, much more so than Lord Carnarvon, who cared as little for you as you did for him. The mutual disinterested made for some long, awkward silences, and many threats to leave you in an unknown grave.

Still dragging you by the arm, Carter began to untie his camel, before finally letting go of you. The rush was honestly needless, you had been expeditioning for months at the least, what harm would a few mere minutes cause? But the men were adamant, and there was no arguing, especially not from a useless child as yourself.

"Can I at least keep my stick?"

Recieving no reply from Carnarvon and an incredulous stare from Carter, you concluded the answer was yes.

The journey from the oasis to the pyramid was shorter than anticipated, though still rather long. Another day passed, spent entirely wandering through the desert. Exhaustion washed over your entire body, and it was a war every minute to keep your eyes open. But, alas, you must continue, and eventually your trek drew to a close as with further examination, it became clear this pyramid was not what you were searching for.

Disappointment and rage filled Carnarvon upon the realisation that this was, in fact, not the Valley of the Gates of the Kings, but rather a singular, sandy pyramid. "Why, there must be some mistake!" He complained impetuantly, always one to shift blame elsewhere. You exchanged a look with Carter, who for once was willing to admit the incompetence of the troupe's leader. After all, what were the chances that a random pyramid would mark the infamous, esteemed valley?

From a distance it appeared mighty, though in fact that was more than likely a mirage caused by the monochromatic nature if the desert. Upon further examination, however, the pyramid was far from the grandeur anticipated by Carnarvon and Carter. Huge gashes and rifts in the brickwork jumped out from metres away. Crumbling brickwork was cratered, resembling a sponge with many holes, as dusty gravel avalanched down the sides of the architecture at every other interval. Overall it was worn and aged, therefore more likely to be looted and barren.

"I do say it's worth taking a look around, my lord." You spoke, addressing him clearly. Carnarvon waved his hand dismissively, wishing you out of his presence.

"Yes, yes. Go ahead child." Did you expect that? No. Did you need to be told twice? Also no. A small grin gracing your features, you took off into the pyramid.

Racing across the gravely surface of the desert, the sand provided a slight level of resistance. Nevertheless, you persevered onwards, stride refusing to falter. Basking in the glorious heat of the warm Egyptian sun's rays casting down on your face, you closed your eyes as you ran, chin tilted upwards. Naturally, this obscured your vision, rendering you blind, and therefore leading you to miss the gaping hole in the ground.

A short squeala of surprise passed your lips as you suddenly found yourself unexpectedly falling through the earth. The drop was rather long, and you landed in a heap on the floor of the dugout with a large thud. You weren't aware of how long you were unconscious, but judging by the severe lack of any source of light, sunset had passed. Pain shot through your body, coarsing through your veins and ricocheting off each of your bones in turn. Head pounding, you groaned slightly, trying to work out what in the hell just happened to you.

Darkness continued to fill the room, prompting you to fish within one of your pockets, pulling out a match and striking it aflame. The hidden chamber was large, that much you could tell even despite the dim lighting. Blinking twice as you began to, very slightly, register your surroundings, you noticed the sheer obscurity of this interior. You'd heard of the saying 'paintings that seemed to follow you around the room', but this gave a new meaning to those words.

No, wait.

Those paintings were moving, and not metaphorically. Eyes widening, you began to notice everything in the tomb writhing like a cluster of cobras. Onyx black cats prowled upon shelves, worn linen bandages slowly unfurling from being bound around each of their limbs. Animated drawings of men, deities and horses alike moved naturally, as though it were a perfectly normal occurrence. Shabti servants, the colour of oxidised copper and ranging from 5-30cm tall formed an army scattered throughout the tomb. Then, slowly, as though delaying the inevitable, your eyes trained upon it.

The sarcophagus.

Shuffling away rapidly, your back hit the decrepit wall of the hidden grave. The embodiment of terror plastered over your face, you watched in horror as the coffin began to violently shake. Your blood ran cold as bangs from the inside began to echo across the acoustic chamber. The rusted hinges were worn and flimsy, and the bolts began to unscrew from their holdings. Padlocks had become frail with ages and popped open, one almost smacking you square in the forehead, to which you responded with a short yelp. For a moment, all movement ceased, as though whatever was inside had begun to listen to the intruder in their grave. You took liberty of the fleeting moment, and began to craft a way out. The quiet was short lived, however, as, with one final, mighty heave, the final lock was broken.

The sarcophagus had been opened.

Your breath caught in your throat, the air thick and suffocating as you watched a wrapped hand emerge from the tomb. The coffin lid was ajar, though it didn't take much pushing to be removed almost entirely. Almost at once, the creatures residing in the grave marched forward, crowding their newly awoken master. Hidden in the shadows, you froze, hoping to remain unseen and ignored, and thus leaving unscathed. Soon enough Carter and Carnarvon were bound to find you?

Right?

A huge open grave couldn't be subtle, you only missed it as you eyes were closed. A stupid decision really, and you mentally cursed yourself.

You remained rooted to the spot on the freezing floor, as the reanimated corpse continued to rise from its grave. Surely this was an affect of your concussion; for all you knew this was just an unconscious dream. Besides, with all the travel in the desert, dehydration had undoubtedly left you delirious. It was at that split second of slight relaxation (if you could call it that) in which you spied the piles of treasure sloping at every corner of the tomb. What could you say - you were a grave robber. Carnarvon would be so proud - if you returned alive that was.

It began to claw at the ancient, frayed linen covering its face, causing your heart to race: it thumped so hard you swore you'd be given away. Praying you didn't go into cardiac arrest, you continued staring bug-eyed as the bandages unfurled in front of you, like the dramatic unveiling of an innovative new invention. Closing your eyes for the second time that day, you winced, raising your arms to shield your face from the horrors you were undoubtedly about to witness. Bile rose in your throat as your mouth drew dry. Images of rancid, rotting flesh peeling off bones flashed through your mind, prompting your whole body to tremble.

'I'm just delirious. Any moment now I'll open my eyes to be met with a chamber of riches.' You thought to yourself. Awoken mummies were the stuff of fairytales, and despite what Carnarvon and Carter believed, you were most certainly not a child.

Your internal monologue was cut short however, interrupted by the gentlest of touches placed on your arm. It prompted you to flinch away instantaneously, a soft whimper escaping. Eyes shooting open, you came face to face with the pharoah himself. And he was not what you had anticipated.

He wasn't the scary mummy you were expecting, he was a teenage kid.

Kind, cerulean eyes rimmed with a smoky black eyeliner stared into your own, azure oceans plagued with concern. Concern for you. Such a colour must have been pricelessly rare, sapphires amongst stones.

His golden, tanned hand had felt cold and lifeless against your arm, yet the heat it had radiated was electrifying, continuing to shoot jolts throughout your entire body. His skin was soft and smooth, betraying the fact that this royal had almost certainly never worked a day in his life.

Slightly unruly brown curls and a toned slender figure - he was actually rather cute.

"Are you alright? You seem a little... Lost?" He queried, to which you seemed unable to form a response.

"I- what.. who? What's going on?" You managed, stumbling over your words as your voice cracked slightly.

He gave a small smile, clearly sympathetic of your utter confusion, before gesturing at a golden tablet, as though that were supposed to help you in any way. Noting your expression of utter bewilderment, the undead Pharaoh elaborated.

"That's my tablet, blessed by Khonsu himself. It holds the power to awake the dead at night," he gestures to himself and the cats, who stared at you, blinking and unsure whether it would be safe for them to approach. Then, he pointed to the paintings in the walls and dragged his finger towards the mass of shabti dolls, both of which watched you with the same confusion. "Along with anything else resembling a life form that finds it's way into the presence of the tablet."

"Right." You answered, holding your head and still in shock.

"You needn't be afraid, you know. I'm not going to hurt you."

"Thank you, that is a relief." You swallowed thickly.

He hummed in response, smiling with an amused frown at the fact you feared him.

"So, who exactly are you?" You asked after a short yet not uncomfortable silence.

His lavish outfit betrayed the royal status he claimed in life, only accentuated by the Red Crown, or Deshret supporting a golden snake - the symbol of monarchy- resting atop his sarcophagus. Around his neck fastened a Usekh collar, adorned with teal and umber jewels and beads, and topped with golden accents. Sleeves of cloth draped over his arms, the fibres of the fabric woven with pure gold. The metallic shine of the element was evident in the chromatic sheen of the cape resting over the Pharoah's shoulders. At his waist there hung a Shendyt kilt, fastened with a cloth belt, also elaborately decorated. Beautiful gold jewellery decorated his figure, your eyes drawn in particular to the stunning gold bracelet cuffs he supported on either wrist, encrusted with gemstones, potentially aquamarine or topaz. Once again your attention was drawn to his face.

"I am Ahkmenrah, fourth king of the fourth king. And you are...?"

Stunned into silence for a moment by the regality of the ancient king before you, you blinked and paused briefly before answering.

"Y/N. Y/N L/N."

"So, Y/N, what are you doing in my grave?" Ahkmenrah asked you, barely trying to surpress an amused smile. Your cheeks flushed as you tried to form a lie. This ruler seemed nice, and regardless, you couldn't exactly tell him you were intent on raiding his tomb for riches.

"It was an accident. Really, it was. I was running, and, well, I wasn't exactly looking where I was going."

"Clearly." He smirked. "Why were you in the desert though? Forgive me if I'm mistaken, but you don't appear to be Egyptian."

"What? Oh, no I'm not. I'm English. I came out in an expedition with two other men; Lord Carnarvon and Carter. They're archaeologists." You winced at the manufactured truth. It wasn't entirely a lie, that was what the men claimed to be. Though all your troupe really planned to accomplish was glorified tomb-raiding, a fact that made you sick.

"And they left you here?" Ahkmenrah questioned incredulously, unable to fathom why on earth they would abandon you like this.

"Well, no. Not exactly. They allowed me to go check out the pyramid about 10 yards south, but, as o said, I fell down a hole." You blushed again, this time due to your own stupidity and clumsiness. This was not how to earn the respect of an esteemed king.

Ahkmenrah frowned. "So how long have you been down here?"

"Uh. I don't actually know, I was unconscious for a short time. Or possibly a long time, that I'm not sure of either."

Concern once again crossed the young Pharoah's face. "You poor thing! Are you alright? You're not concussed, are you?"

"Probably." You shrugged, further alarming him.

The next few hours were spent talking to Ahk, discussing everything from the legal affairs of ancient Egypt to the cats that accompanied him in his tomb. Over the course of the night, the two of you had grown closer, both in terms of friendship and literal distance. Most of the other inhabitants of the grave had deemed you safe, returning to their regular routine, and the most curious of the mummified cats, an (aptly) Egyptian mau apparently named Tivali, had become rather taken to you. Eventually, the exhaustion of the day had caught up with you, and you slumped against Ahk's shoulder. Revelling in his presence, contentment washed over you as, for the first time on your quest, you relaxed, finally at ease. Perhaps it was delirium, but in your sleepy state you swore you felt his fingertips grace against your cheek, the ghost of his lips pressing gently against your temple.

"Sleep well, my dear."

#night at the museum #natm #natm ahkmenrah #ahkmenrah #ahkmenrah x reader #rami malek #rami malek x reader #egypt #ancient egypt #history #egyptology #archaeology #natm fandom #natm fanfiction #natm fic #night at the museum fanfic #natm au #egyptian pharaoh

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angstyandromanticwriting · 1 year

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Benjamin X Human!Reader Cute Prompt with light angst and a cute ending [Short Prompt]

!TW: Word ‘killed’, mention of heart break!

Benjamin noticed you looking at him strangely, and he would be confused, his eyes meeting your’s. “Stop looking at me like that,” he spoke quietly, a soft smile playing on his lips as his eyes lit up briefly.

“Like what?” You played dumb, nervous and embarrassed at yourself.

“Like I’m going to disappear,” he clarified, stepping closer to you.

You winced, bowing your head. “Well, are you? Because last time-” You remembered when he had just - gone, and didn’t come back until a couple of years had past.

Benjamin frowned, wrapping his arms around your lower back, his eyes meeting your’s. “I’m not going anywhere. I promise you,” he assured, shocked that you would think he would leave you again. “I spent too much time away from you, and it began to hurt me, so I had to return to you before it killed me.” You would rest your head beneath his chin, listening to his steady heartbeat whilst also wishing that the moment wouldn’t end. “I love you, Y/N - I’ll always be by your side. Even if I had to leave for a short time, I’d always come back.”

You would try to believe him, but you never wanted to feel the heart break you’d suffered again. “You promise?” You whispered, your voice weak.

“I promise,” he whispered back, gently kissing the top of your head to try and reassure you that he meant everything that he was saying.

~~~~~

Hope you enjoyed this prompt! ❤️

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safin-supremacy · 1 year

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Benjamin X Reader Mostly fluffy prompt (Linked to last prompt)

Benjamin laid comfortably on top of you, and you couldn’t move him, and you didn’t want to shove him as that would be mean. “Y’know - Your bed could be more comfortable than me,” you stated, and he shook his head, still no intention to get off of you.

“Nah, I’m good,” he responded, and you grunted, trying to feel comfortable as you moved a little beneath him.

༺𐦐༻

You grinned when you noticed Jacob approaching you, and Benjamin watched anxiously; he was worried that Jacob would hurt you. “I’ve been gathering my courage to talk to you for so long after you became a bloodsucker,” he claimed, “and now - I did it.” You giggled, playfully and gently slapping his shoulder as you didn’t want to be too forceful.

↯

You would be surprised when Benjamin suddenly pressed you against the wall in the hallway, and you would be scared, until you realised it was him. “What the Hell were you doing with Jacob?” Benjamin questioned, and you grunted, rolling your eyes; you thought that he’d gotten over it already as you’d spoken to him about it before. “It’s obvious that you like him,” Benjamin stated, and you managed to push him off of you.

“I don’t!” You retorted, annoyed that he would even think that you did. “Are friends not allowed to be playful with each other?” You spat, and Benjamin looked away from you, getting an idea.

“Playful?” Benjamin repeated, and you nodded. “What? Like this?” Benjamin would surprise you when he held up your jacket so you could see it; he’d originally tried to find you to return it to you, before he found you and Jacob talking.

“Is that my-?” You tried to take it from him, but he held it higher, smirking. “Gimme that back!” You demanded in a whiny voice, and he chuckled, taking the opportunity to tickle you with his free hand. You whimpered, trying to escape his hold, until he stopped tickling you, offering you your jacket, and you warily accepted it from him, though you thought he’d tease you again.

Benjamin then stepped closer to you, placing his hand on your cheek, before he connected his lips to your’s, kissing you delicately as if you were fragile. You stared into Benjamin’s reddish brown eyes once the kiss was over, and he grinned when he noticed that you were blushing profusely; he always had this effect on you, practically from the very beginning. “So - You don’t have feelings for Jacob?” Benjamin asked, hopeful, though he could already see that you didn’t.

“Of course I don’t! Besides he imprinted, remember?” You reminded him, and Benjamin winced when he remembered, embarrassed for forgetting. “I love you, B,” you added softly, before you connected your forehead to his. “I always will,” you assured, and Benjamin couldn’t help, but smile in response as his eyes locked with your’s.

“You guys are so cheesy it’s disgusting.” You winced when you heard Emmett’s voice, and the two of you looked over at him. Emmett guessed what you both might be thinking, and he shook his head. “I won’t tell, don’t worry,” he reassured, and you both expressed relief, smiling your thanks to him. Emmett smiled kindly back, before he walked away from you both. You then wrapped your arms around Benjamin, and he returned the hug, wishing you both could have more moments like this together.

~~~~~~

Enjoy ! ❤️

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greatkinglulu · 3 months

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Okay, so I saw this reel on insta and I think I NEED to write a OS with Ben Hardy!Roger Taylor about it.

What do we think? 👀

#queen #borhap #roger taylor #freddie mercury #brian may #john deacon #ben hardy #rami malek #gwilym lee #joe mazzello #queen fanfiction #queen fandom #ben hardy fanfic #roger taylor fanfic #ben hardy as roger taylor #greatkinglulu

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theborhapqueenarchives · 2 years

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Hey guys! I'm on a mission to archive all deleted/lost fanfics for the queen and bohemian rhapsody fandoms.

So if you want me to find a fic for you, I'll try to do it for you!

How to view deleted fics on AO3

Fanfiction master list

PLEASE MESSAGE ME IF YOU HAVE A FIC SAVED!

Lost fanfics can be found under "lost" and found ones are tagged as "found"

#queen band #queen fanfiction #queen #bohemian rhapsody cast #borhap #freddie mercury #brian may #john deacon #roger taylor #rami malek #gwilym lee #ben hardy #lucy boynton

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lovewriting-5 · 2 years

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A group of nurses and I were on two small planes with medical gear and supplies for the U.S. Marines stationed in Okinawa. When we got off the planes, the men were happy to see something other than their fellow Marines.

The men catcalled and gawked at us as we walked to our nurses station. Men in uniform were always a turn on. I wasn’t going to lie a lot of them looked really good. Some of the nurses liked the attention while others kept their cool. I wasn’t sure how to take it. Friends warned me to be careful before jumping on the opportunity to help. We got to our tent where we began setting up. I help set up check in tables while others set up check up stations with white curtains.

We were able to get through a quarter of the Marines when we were able to take a break. Some of the nurses went down to the beach while me and nurse Anne picked up some food from the mess tent and found a makeshift bench. We were sitting there talking when she stopped mid-sentence and watched behind me. I ask her “What are you looking at?” She tells me “Coming this way are two handsome Marines.” I spin my head to see what she was talking about. Walking our way was a Marine with brown hair, wearing a light brown shirt and Navy green pants. He was handsome but right behind him was a dark, curly haired Marine who wasn’t wearing a shirt. The second guy, I could see was a little muscular with his dog tags knocking against his bare stomach. As they walk past us, we make eye contact. My breath hitches as he winks. I look away quickly hiding my smile. Once they are out of sight, nurse Anne notices. She asks me “Were you just checking out that Marine?” I tell her in hopes that she buys it, “What? I was not checking out any Marine. Plus, this is our first day here...there are a lot of good looking guys.” She says “But none like that one.” I smirk. She adds “I could tell by the look he gave you that he likes what he sees.” I tell her “We should probably be getting back. Plus...I could bandage the scratches on his ribs.” She says “I knew you were checking him out.” We both laugh as I gave her a light push back to the station.

When all the nurses got back from their breaks, we had to finish up the day of check ups. While we were making sure we had our supplies for the next group, the nurses were talking about the men that came up to them. That’s when Nurse Anne says “(Y/N) might have found herself a Marine to have some fun with.” The other nurses gasped with excitement, they knew I wasn’t here for that reason. One nurse asked “What was his name?” I tell her “He didn’t tell me his name.” She asked “What do you mean he didn’t tell you his name?” I tell her “All he did was walk by.” Anne says “And she was liking what she saw.” I tell them “Okay...maybe a little bit.” The two of them giggled. The nurse turns to Anne, says “We’ll get the name for her. If he shows up let me know.” Anne tells her “She’ll get it before we do.” I roll my eyes with a smile. I walk back to the table where I check them in and send them off to a nurse.

As the men were going through the line, they would say “Why don’t you and I find some place private.” I said “Tempting but no.” When they go behind the curtain, a couple times I heard “Hello gorgeous, I’m ready for my full body check.” A few nurses flirted back. A dark, curly haired Marine appeared in line and in a Louisiana accent, asks “Hey, aren’t you the pretty nurse I saw earlier?” I look up from my list and saw that it was him. I tell him “Maybe. There are a lot of nurses around here.” He says “No, I’m sure I would remember you. How about you and me go back to my tent and you can give me a private check up?” The two nurses next to me, giggle.

“Your name?” I ask. He tells me “Corporal Merriell Shelton, but you can just call me Snafu.” I check him in and say “Corporal Shelton, you’ll go with nurse Beth.” He leans in close and says “Alright but I’ll be thinking of you the entire time.” I stifle a smile. He goes with Beth. I hear “Well...aren’t you the most beautiful nurse I have seen.” I huff.

The nurses were done for the day. We had the rest of the time to ourselves. Some of the nurses went to go find Marines to flirt with. Nurse Beth and I head down to the beach. We sat down in the sand, removed our shoes along with hats. As we look out to the ocean, she tells me “That Corporal had a lot to say about you.” I look down at the sand, begin drawing little circles and ask her “Which one was that?” She looks at me and raises an eyebrow.

Beth looks over my shoulder to behind me and says “You know exactly who I’m talking about. He is coming this way.” I look behind to see and I feel myself go a little red. Walking in the sand toward us was Snafu along with a light red haired, Marine. Loudly, Snafu says “Well, look here Sledge, we got two beautiful women waiting on the beach for us.” I ask “Oh, are you talking about us or two other women?” The red haired man, says “Come on, Snafu, they’re not interested.” Snafu tells him, “They are Seldge. They just don’t know it yet.” I say “You know I was just telling Beth here, that we were looking for two Marines to sweep us off our feet.” A small smile spread across Snafu’s face.

Beth asks “I was just about to go for a swim then get a drink. Sledge, was it? Would you care to join me?” I say “That sounds like a good idea. I’ll join you.” Beth says “No, you should stay here. Sledge?” Snafu nudges his ribs. He says as he rubs his ribs, “Uhhhh...yeah, I’ll join you.” Beth says “Great, let’s go.” They walk off toward the water. Snafu sits down next to me and says “Feisty, I like that in a woman.” I say “Really? I thought you went for looks.” He takes off his boots and begins making small talk. I said as minimal as I could. Out of curiosity, I asked “Why do they call you ‘Snafu’?” He tells me “There is no reason. One day the nickname just stuck and now it follows.”

We got up and walked down to the water. He told me about his family in Louisiana and I told him about mine. The two of us began flirting with each other more than earlier. We spent hours talking and hanging out. It’s hard to say but I’m think I was falling for his Southern charm. I ask him “Do you really think Beth is the most beautiful nurse you have ever seen?” He smirks. He says “I only did, cause you turned me down.” I ask him “Are you talking about your offer?” Snafu nods. I tell him “I didn’t exactly deny you, Snafu. I was on duty.” He perks up and asks “So, this means?” I tell him “It’s getting kind of late. I should probably be getting back to my tent.” He says “With the enemy out there...it can be pretty dangerous.”

I look out to the horizon. I say “Claire is staying with Anne tonight in her tent which means I’ll have the tent all to myself. So...if your offer still stands?” His face lights up. We pick up our shoes and my hat then make our way to my tent. We get to my tent and he says “I remember saying my tent.” I ask him “Do you want the private check up or not?” Snafu doesn’t say anything, he just follows me into the tent.

The door closes. He steps to me, places hands on my waist and kisses me. After 15 minutes, I begin breathlessly “So...about...this...check up....” I take one of his hands and lead him to the cot. I place a hand just below his ear then lean in and kiss him. He places a hand on my waist again and lowers me to the cot. With his help, I move to my side as he lays down next to me. While barely breaking the kiss, we spend the night together until the break of light.

#Snafu imagines #Snafu Shelton imagines #Snafu x reader #Snafu Shelton x reader #Snafu fanfiction #Snafu Shelton fanfiction #Rami Malek imagines #Rami Malek x reader #Rami Malek fanfiction #Rami Malek

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