#eloquent countenance fluff

[protagsbf]

haiiiiiii !! i go by may and this is my shitpost writing blog since i got lazy to post on my main (praying this one ends well.)

tbh i write whatever i want; fluff, smut, angst, anything rlly

applies for reader too!!!! just be specific if you want it to be

my inbox is probs always open so if you have drabbles or headcanons you better share them 🫵🫵🫵🫵 just get freaky w it tbh

what i write for!

elevator hitch

characters:

protag!!! (the love of my life no joke)

coworker

normal guy......

antag (doppel protag)

colleague (doppel coworker)

ships:

x reader and basically pairings of any of the above.....

yes ill do selfcest............

cold front

characters:

augustine

winnie

ships:

x reader and augnie !!

eloquent contenance

characters:

forcas

(i dont know angelicas char enough to do my girl justice)

ships:

x reader kfvajavdbjabs

mistrick

characters:

john blanc

chase colt

ships:

BLANCOLT and also x reader teehee

anywayyyyy thats it!!!! pls send stuff in my inbox idk what to do on this stupid blog anyways bye!!!!!!!!!

P.S. PLEASE REC ME SOME GOOD ITCH GAMES!!! or ya could ask me about them and if i know it, i might just write for it hehe

divider

[hisui-dreamer]

rinnnaaaa!!! congrats on 2k, and i hope you have loads of fun with this event 💖💖 for my request, how about leona (haha i'm so unpredictable, ikr) with peonies! (any culture works <3)

fit for the throne

Pairing: Leona Kingscholar x gn!reader

Synopsis: it wasn't fair how his life had treated him, so it was up to you to give him what he truly deserved

Tags: fluff, reader is a leona apologist, leona has never done anything wrong in his life :), reader is secretly royalty

Word count: 700+

Notes: thanks soru!! i hope you don't mind how long this took hehe. i poured all of my leona simp energy into this (⁠*⁠ﾉ⁠・⁠ω⁠・⁠)⁠ﾉ⁠♫

Masterlist

flower of choice: peony

peonies are often referred to as the "king of flowers", because they overwhelmingly bloom in splendor, giving rise to interpretations of "wealth" and "magnificence".

A sigh interrupts your focus, drawing your eyes away from the grimoire cradled in your hands. Your focus shifts to Leona, who sits with regal poise in the armchair, embraced by the golden glow of the setting sun. The fading light plays upon the angles of his noble countenance, highlighting the sharp lines of his jaw and the elegant curve of his cheekbones.

“What’s wrong, love?��

Leona's emerald eyes meet yours, frustration etched into his features as another sigh escapes his lips. “It’s another letter from home. They’re requesting my presence for some big event,” he grumbles.

An eyebrow arches at his words. Undeniably Leona's presence radiates warmth and comfort, like the brilliance of a supernova that dispelled the darkness, but it isn’t unknown to you how his worth went unappreciated in his childhood. Surely, anyone could appreciate him better than the palace of the Sunset Savanah had. What could they possibly want with his presence now?

“An event?” you echo, your grimoire long forgotten now that something far more important has caught your attention. Rising from the desk, you move to settle on Leona's lap, his legs shifting so you can lean against him comfortably. "It doesn’t seem very considerate of them to request your absence from school," you frown, your fingers combing through his hair in an attempt to soothe his frustration. It's unlikely they truly require his presence; more probable is their desire for the second prince to make a token appearance, showcasing the facade of a happy and stable royal family.

He huffed at your comment. “When have they ever been considerate?”

It was unfair, how they treated him like a chess piece to wave about whenever they pleased, but refused to acknowledge when he had a voice. He had qualities that could rival the great kings of the past, but his potential is overshadowed simply by the order of his birth. You can't shake the feeling that his true potential is being squandered within the confines of his homeland.

You've observed firsthand how effortlessly he embodies the qualities of a leader. One of your favourite attributes about him is his intelligence. His mind is razor-sharp and perceptive, effortlessly dissecting complex problems with precision. From your casual discussions alone, you’ve gleaned that he possesses a keen insight into matters of statecraft and diplomacy, navigating political intricacies with a deftness that belies his years.

His voice is velvety, smooth, and rich, with undertones of authority. When he speaks, his words carry weight, resonating with a quiet power that commands attention without the need for raised voices or harsh commands. He possesses a natural eloquence and is able to convey his thoughts with precision and clarity, leaving no room for doubt or misunderstanding.

His profound care and compassion for his people fill your heart with warmth. Leona's unwavering dedication to bettering their lives is evident as he tirelessly pushes for policies aimed at fostering prosperity and equality throughout the kingdom. Yet, what truly distinguishes him is his genuine warmth and kindness, treating everyone with respect and consideration, irrespective of their status or background.

But perhaps most striking of all is the aura of calm that surrounds him, even in the midst of chaos. Like a steadfast lighthouse in a storm, he remains unshaken by the turbulence of the world around him, his demeanour unwavering and composed. It is this unwavering composure, coupled with his innate sense of duty and honour, that truly marks him as a king among men.

“You would never be fit to rule!”

The words of Lilia Vanrouge resurface in your mind, the ones that triggered your beloved into his overblot, and a surge of fury begins to build within you.

Because he is wrong, entirely wrong. Because Leona is the only person you could ever see ruling by your side.

Said lion beastman nestles against you, nuzzling his nose gently into your cheek, his way of silently probing your thoughts, having sensed your bubbling anger.

Calmness washes over you at his affection. He truly deserves the world and so much more.

You pulled away slightly, gazing directly into his eyes.

It shouldn’t be too difficult for him to fall in love with your kingdom.

“Leona, dear, did I ever mention that I'm the heir to a kingdom's throne?”

Masterlist

if you liked this post, don't forget to reblog!

[lucielanciel]

☕ Writing Commissions ☕

Give me an idea or a prompt and I'll turn it into a story!

I'll also be offering free three hundred (300) words to the first five clients! (1/5)

=======================

PRICING 📚

(Gcash, and if we use PayPal there will be a 10% fee due to the service fee)

400 words - 150 Pesos /5 Dollars

700 words - 250 Pesos / 7 Dollars

900 words - 350 Pesos / 10 Dollars

1,200 words - 500 Pesos / 15 Dollars

2,200 words - 650 Pesos / 20 Dollars

3,300 words - 800 Pesos / 25 Dollars

4,000 words - 1,100 pesos / 30 Dollars

=======================

I'm comfortable writing both fan-fiction for fandoms or original fiction about your original characters too! Including Self Inserts, X Reader (Y/n) !

The themes, genres & sub genres I am most familiar with writing are;

-CanonxCanon, OCxOc, and OCxCanon

-Platonic or Romantic Relationship

-LGBTQIA+ (Queer) Relationships

-Romance with angst

-Dead Dove (+ Messed up scenarios)

-Unhealthy and Toxic relationships

-Cannibalism and Gore

-Mature and Dark themes.

-Slight NSFW

-Fluff or light-hearted topics

The following is an incomplete list of fandoms I feel I'm familiar enough to write fan-fiction for: (Though feel free to message me to ask if I'm familiar with other shows, games, book series or etc.)

-Eddsworld

-Miraculous Ladybug

-Creepypasta

-Lego Monkie Kid

-Dead Plate

-Elevator Hitch

-Cold Front

-Married In Red

-Eloquent Countenance

-Rot in Paradise

-Gravity Falls

-Mouthwashing

-Cuphead

I'm also willing to write fandoms I'm not familiar with! Feel free to provide any small details but I can always do small search!

=======================

Links to my work

A03:"https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hopelessly_devoted_to_you

Wattpad:https://www.wattpad.com/user/Luciel_Anciel?utm_source=android&utm_medium=facebook_messenger&utm_content=share_profile&wp_page=user_details&wp_uname=KitKai_Sundae

Tumblr:https://www.tumblr.com/luciel-anciel?source=share

=======================

Terms of Service:

-Depending in how much you want me to write, it'll take 1-2 weeks. ( 3 weeks if it's around 3kwords)

-Half or full Payment, before I start writing said piece.

-Scene revisions or rewrites are free for the first three (3), though I'd ask you to be clear and heavily specific with what you want me to rewrite so I can bring you the desired product.

-No Refunds, once approved or finished.

(Though if I am unable to finish the piece then I'll refund the money)

-I am allowed to turn down a request if I'm unable to do it, but hopefully we can make a compromise.

-Commercial use shall be negotiated. Please credit me for the writing.

-Adding smut or anything sexual like intercourse, penetration will double the price.

[cry-4b0ut-1t]

what should I write

Wanna write something so yea, you can ask me to write anything and I gladly will UNLESS it’s:

NSFW

Shipping family

A ship that everyone can look at and go “ew” to

not in a fandom I’m in

So yes I’ll write:

Angst

Fluff

found family

oh and here: Fandom list: (Only the ones I feel like writing for rn)

Sbg, Dead plate, Cold front, Eloquent Countenance, genshin impact, hsr, phighting, regretevator, kp, i think that’s it?

edit: now new edition to fandoms!!!: bsd!!

[queenofdragons12]

Babydoll — J.JK, B.C, H.HJ

WARNINGS : slight seductive, flirting, soft fluff

PARINGS : idol! hyrbid! J.JK + B.C + H.HJ X fem! dragon! reader + stray kids and BTS

a/n: there's a new series I'll do hope you'll like it!

Prev Chap: Ch.1

Ch. 2

"I... hello, I am Y/N," you uttered, your voice trembling with a delicate blend of anticipation and trepidation. With a quivering hand, you extended it towards him, an act of reaching out not only physically but emotionally as well. The man blinked, slowly emerging from his daze, and graciously accepted your hand, engaging in a formal exchange.

"It is with utmost pleasure that I make your acquaintance, Y/N. I am Bang Chan, although I implore you to refer to me as Chan," he replied, his voice resonating with sincerity and a touch of noble grace. With an elegant gesture, he beckoned you to enter the room, where an ethereal ambiance awaited. The walls, adorned with brushstrokes of white paint, reminiscent of blossoms intertwining through an abyss of ebony, bestowed upon the space a surreal beauty.

The room, tastefully adorned and meticulously arranged, exuded an air of refined elegance, transforming the mundane interview setting into an enclave of artistic marvels. Yet, amidst the alluring environment, an inexplicable disquietude clung to your spirit, stubbornly lingering even in the presence of your intended companion.

Seated across from each other, Chan initiated the conversation, his hands gracefully clasping together, an embodiment of composed sophistication. "Pray tell, Y/N," he began, his voice a melodic serenade, laced with genuine curiosity, "what compelled you to seek this remarkable opportunity?" His question hung in the air, filled with a genuine thirst for understanding, awaiting your heartfelt response.

A soft sigh escaped your lips, laden with the weight of emotions you had meticulously gathered within. With eloquence and fervor, you poured your essence into each word, conveying your aspirations, dreams, and an unwavering determination to leave an indelible mark. The interview unfolded like a perfectly choreographed dance, a symphony of shared purpose and profound resonance, until an unexpected turn.

Just when you believed the conversation was nearing its conclusion, Chan interjected, his voice cutting through the air like a refined maestro. "I beg your pardon," he interposed, captivating your attention once more. You turned towards him, your eyes widening in anticipation, eager to receive his words. And then, a genuine smile graced Chan's countenance, brimming with sincerity and profound honor, as he gently embraced your hands with his own, an act drenched in reverence and admiration.

"To have the privilege of collaborating with you, my dearest," he murmured, his words reverberating with an undercurrent of profound affection. Your heart soared, an intoxicating mélange of emotions coursing through your veins, threatening to consume you entirely. A fleeting smile graced your lips, a mere glimpse of the euphoria and elation surging within. Without a moment's hesitation, you hastily departed the room, your footsteps echoing with the stately rhythm of a fervent heartbeat.

˗ˏˋ꒰ 🍒 ꒱

"Ah, a tale woven with intrigue," your bosom companion Belle mused, her laughter chiming like silver bells as you playfully swatted her hand away.

"Belle, heed my plea!" you chided, your voice tinged with a blend of affection and exasperation. Yet, she continued to dance with mirth, her laughter rippling through the air like a playful zephyr. "For love, my dear, pays no heed to boundaries, nor does it bend to the shackles of societal expectations," she intoned, her eyes shimmering with an ancient wisdom. "Let your heart be the compass that guides you through this labyrinthine realm. Fate has intertwined your destinies, and Chan's heart, I suspect, has already surrendered to the tempestuous throes of ardor," she advised, her words dripping with honeyed eloquence.

A weary sigh escaped your lips, surrendering to the weight of her words, and you nodded, acknowledging the truth in her counsel. Tenderly bidding adieu to your faithful confidante, whose gaze mirrored the depths of a caramel sunset, you embarked on your journey, your footsteps tracing the path of uncertain love. The world outside, vibrant and resplendent, beckoned with the allure of a sonnet waiting to be written.

As you traversed the winding streets, your heart danced with anticipation, entwined in a rhapsody of emotions. Your pulse quickened, like a hummingbird's wings, as you neared the threshold of your humble abode, a sanctuary for passions yet untamed. The tendrils of your thoughts, like delicate ivy, embraced the visions of a shared future, while the whispers of affection tugged at the strings of your soul.

Stepping into the comforting embrace of your dwelling, you shed the confines of a sapphire-hued gown, revealing the soft lace of an ethereal blouse. The fabric, like the tenderest caress, graced your skin, unveiling the vulnerability within. Yearning for solace amidst the tumultuous storm of emotions, you ventured beyond the threshold, into a world that mirrored the sonnets of yore.

Atop the rolling hills, where the sun bathed the verdant canvas in its golden hues, you reclined upon nature's embrace. Each breath you drew mirrored a lover's sigh, mingling with the fragrant symphony of blossoms. The blades of grass, like delicate brushes, painted a tapestry beneath you, while the serenade of birdsong whispered secrets carried on the breeze.

Enveloped in this ethereal sanctuary, your eyelids grew heavy, the weight of passion and longing lulling you into a slumber so profound that it seemed to merge realms of dreams and reality. In this twilight realm, time became a mere illusion, and your soul surrendered to a realm where true love reigned supreme, where the boundaries of mortal existence faded into the ether.

˗ˏˋ꒰ 🍒 ꒱

As the first rays of morning painted the sky in hues of rose and gold, you rose with a renewed vigor, ready to embrace the possibilities of a brand-new day. This time, you adorned yourself in a simple pink skirt that swirled delicately with every step, accompanied by a pristine white button-up shirt that exuded an air of elegance. A few golden jewels graced your neck and wrists, their radiant glow perfectly complementing the subtle shimmer of your azure-gilded scales, which had gently faded overnight, cautious not to reveal their true nature under the sun's watchful gaze.

With grace and purpose, you made your way to your place of work, offering nods of acknowledgment to familiar faces along the way. Finally, you arrived at your designated station, only to find the presence of an unfamiliar figure. His jet-black hair cascaded in luxurious waves, an emblem of refined allure that mirrored the wealthy elite you had encountered before. As your eyes met, a shared recognition flashed between you, a profound connection that transcended time and space.

Pupils dilated, hearts resounding like thunderous drums, you found yourself face-to-face with your third soulmate. The shock reverberated through your being, leaving you breathless and disoriented. How could this be? Your mind spun with bewilderment, yet the man before you mirrored your astonishment, his head shaking in disbelief. Rising from his seat, he extended his hand towards you, his voice filled with warmth. "You must be Y/N. My friends have spoken of you," he said, his words laden with a curious mix of familiarity and intrigue.

Nodding in awe, you accepted his outstretched hand, the touch serving as an electric current that coursed through your veins. "I am," you managed to utter, your voice a mere whisper.

A smile curved his lips as he bowed before you, a gesture of respect infused with a touch of undeniable magnetism. "I am Jeon Jungkook, though you may call me Jungkook," he introduced himself, the weight of destiny hanging in the air. With that, the day unfolded, the enchanting dance of camaraderie and laughter guiding your every step. Jungkook proved to be a captivating presence, his humor infectious and his desire to see you smile unwavering. In the blink of an eye, the two of you forged an unbreakable bond, a connection that defied logic and expectations.

It was an extraordinary occurrence, for Jungkook was known to be guarded and reserved, particularly around strangers, especially women. Yet, you, dear Y/N, were an exception. From the depths of his soul, his wolf beckoned, recognizing you as his mate, their incessant whispers echoing through his thoughts, day and night.

In this grand tapestry of existence, where the hands of fate intricately weave the threads of destiny, what choice does one truly have when confronted with the profound and unequivocal declaration of one's soulmate?

[allyinthekeyofx]

Affirmation 4/5

Missing scene and post ep En Ami

Part one Orison here

Part two Per Manum here

Part three Sein Und Zeit here

This chapter contains possible TRIGGERS.  If you are at all unsure please PM me for clarification.  Scant fluff in this one - just raw, angry, hurting from Mulder’s POV

Four

I can’t remember a time when I’ve felt angrier at her,

In fact, anger doesn’t actually even go halfway to describing how I feel. Try hurt, disappointed, unimportant, insignificant even; incensed to a point where I was afraid to even fucking look at her for fear of what I might say as I braced myself rigidly against the door frame in my apartment, listening to the shock and disbelief in her voice as she tried to persuade herself that the risks she had just taken had been worth it. To her, to me and to the whole of the fucking human race, promises and assurances made to her by a man who has wrought more pain, more destruction and more suffering on both of us than should ever be reasonably possible; a man who has shattered our lives – her life – in ways that are unimaginable.

And yet she trusted him.

She fucking trusted him.

More than she trusted me it would seem.

I had received the call from her, finally received it when she was around an hour away from DC. Not when she got in the car to start the long drive back, not when she had put a reasonable distance between herself and that black lunged double-talking fucker who had duped her so effortlessly, not even when she had stopped to fill the car up with gas when she got halfway home. Instead, for reasons best known to herself, Scully had instead given me another five hours of frantic worry as my panic grew when Frohike reiterated for the hundredth time that they didn’t know how to find her, that she had covered her tracks so adeptly that for all intents and purposes, she had simply just disappeared. Ditching me far more effectively than I think I had ever managed during our long and chequered partnership.

In fact I don’t think I have ever felt a time when raw fear began to overtake me so completely that I literally began to fall apart from within. I couldn’t eat, couldn’t sleep, couldn’t function on any cohesive level as a million different scenarios flew through my mind, refusing to be quietened, refusing to be stilled, as I paced like a caged animal, backwards and forwards, trying to deny the unspoken truth that hammered at me relentlessly; that she was dead, that this time she wasn’t coming back. That the incomprehensible risk, the blind faith and blatant stupidity had sent her right to him, the fact that she had gone willingly the hardest for me to reconcile.

Stupid. So fucking stupid.

And when she finally arrived at my door I couldn’t even bring myself to open it because for the first time since I have known her, I truly didn’t want to see her, afraid of how I would react, disappearing as I was in the destructive force of my own anger. Instead I ignored the sound of her knuckles against the wood, fucked if I would give her the satisfaction of seeing the relief that would surely emanate from every cell of my body just to look at her face, to see that she was indeed whole. She didn’t deserve that level of emotional exposure from me. So instead, after throwing me a bemused glance, Byers did the honours, greeting her in that soft, respectful way of his, that was this time, tinged with just a hint of regret that he was the one to welcome her back, that he knew it wasn’t what she expected.

But what did she expect? I mean really? 

Did she even have an inkling of what she’d done to me? She had started toward me, her eyes searching for mine even as I steadfastly refused to allow her that contact, ignoring her whispered imploration that wrapped itself around me as she spoke my name.

“Mulder”?

Instead I had briefly shook my head, turning away from her and heading into the kitchen; putting a distance between us, trying to calm myself enough so as not to wound her more than she would shortly be wounded.

Because I knew.

Oh yeah, I knew that she had been played. And that right then she didn’t.

And if I’m completely honest with myself, as I watched Langley reveal the truth that I already knew, that the disc she had risked her life for, risked our partnership and risked everything we had begun to discover about each other, was empty, finally speaking as I watched her plead with him to try just one more time, begging him with words unspoken to give her at least some tangible justification for allowing herself to be so truly and completely taken in. That she had behaved like a fucking rookie with no thought to her own personal safety, disregarded everything she knew, had been taught, had experienced at the hands of this power hungry lunatic, to blindly follow him; on a promise from a man who trades in lies.

“Enough”

And it was.

That one word, laced with more venom directed at her by me than I thought was even possible, was enough to stop her in her tracks, to make what little colour she had retained in the face of so much continued antagonism from me, drain from her countenance, as she abruptly closed her mouth and turned her eyes on me once again. Eyes that now glistened with unshed tears and which almost sent me across the room to crush her against me, to allow myself to forgive her for what she had done; for what she had risked.

Almost.

But I didn’t. I simply folded my arms against my chest and leaned against the doorframe, fighting myself to remain where I was, to not allow myself the luxury of telling her that it was okay, that everything was fine.

Because it wasn’t fine.

And it wasn’t okay.

In fact it was possibly the most heinous fucking thing she had ever done, even more so given the events over the preceding months that had finally been given voice and acknowledgment from both of us. The night in that dingy motel room where she had literally come apart in my arms, the aftermath of Pfaster threatening to tip her right over the edge, finally allowing ourselves to admit our own version of the truth to each other; a truth that had writhed and burned within us both for years and which had finally broken through the walls that we had so carefully constructed and kept patched up for so long.

The gunmen had certainly sensed the undercurrents; even Langley began busying himself with the equipment they had brought over at my request on learning just exactly what it was that Scully had in her possession – or rather what she thought she had – packing it away, unplugging leads, knowing that it was more than time for the three of them to leave before the storm that crackled ominously in the air finally broke. Because they knew that it was coming, oh yeah they knew.

Langley was the first to leave, almost running out the door in his haste to get away from us and under normal circumstances I might have found if amusing, but at the time nothing seemed very funny. Frohike was pretty quick to follow, but surprisingly, Byers paused, stepping right up to where Scully still remained standing, looking at that damn disc as though sheer will power alone would suddenly bring it to life in front of her, and he briefly laid his hand against her cheek, an awkward gesture of comfort given by this most reticent of men in response to my indifference of the circumstances and one which angered me and twisted something inside me in about equal measure. But I remained silent, non-reactive as he dropped his hand away and spoke the first gentle words she had heard since she walked through my door.

“I’m sorry Dana”

She nodded, before quickly turning away from him, a defensive action I had come to know all too well; a response precipitated by a desperate need to not show weakness when in the company of others. To close down any form of communication, be it verbal or physical that might elicit an emotional response from her.

And I ignored the pointed way he frowned at me as he paused in front of me, eloquently telling me to get a fucking grip before it was too late; to stop being so wrapped up in my own pain that I refused to even try to acknowledge hers. Because I didn’t need him or anyone else telling me how I should be feeling about the fact she had chosen to ignore the last three fucking months as though they meant nothing.

I remained in my position even as she stepped towards me, but now that we were alone I allowed myself to finally look at her, really look at her, watching her recoil as every emotion I had fought to keep control of must have shown themselves to her all at the same time, because I felt them, actually felt them break free from somewhere deep inside me, burgeoning, uncontrollable, destructive, forcing words from my mouth that snapped in the air like gunshots between us. In fact I think pulling my gun out and shooting her might have been easier on her.

“What the fuck were you thinking?”

“Mulder…”

I didn’t want to hear it. Didn’t want to hear her excuses because there was a part of me that was afraid I would hear the same words coming out of her mouth that she had heard so often from mine, excuses given for all the times I had chosen to ditch her over the years. I’ve lost count of the amount of times she’s come after me to haul my sorry ass out of whatever proverbial creek I’d managed to get myself stranded in, what injuries I had sustained, how I had risked myself. But the difference, the fucking difference, was I had never once done any of it for purely altruistic reasons; unlike her, I had always taken one for the cause; not for myself or for my own selfish reasons.

Or at least that’s what I told myself.

So instead of allowing her to answer, to give her the opportunity for justification, I simply turned away and grabbed at my coat from where it hung over the sofa back where I had thrown it earlier; when she was still missing; when I thought she was dead.

“You met him in offices in DC?”

Scully swallowed and nodded slowly, miserably casting her eyes to the floor, knowing now that it wouldn’t matter what she said, even if she counter-attacked with anger, that what she had done was wrong; and she at least had the sense at that moment to not challenge me on either my anger or my conviction.

“Let’s go.”

XXXX

I guess it was unfortunate that as my anger towards Scully started to fade, unable as I was to keep throwing verbal punches at her as the realisation finally began to hit her that she had been duped so thoroughly, hers began to build. Anger at me, anger at him, anger at herself, but mostly I think anger at this whole ridiculous situation; finding herself as she had, on the receiving end of my own desperate insecurities. Because it hadn’t been lost on me in the weeks since my Mother died that Scully was all I had left; my only safety net between myself and absolute freefall, that if I lost her I lost everything.

It had been a rough couple of months for us both I think – beginning with the whole Pfaster mess and my associated guilt which precipitated a strange period where once again, I was desperately afraid for her as she dipped and spiralled downwards as she fought against the way the whole experience had tainted her, finding then that even though she hadn’t fully healed, suddenly I was the one who needed saving as I fell apart piece by harrowing piece following my Mom’s suicide and the revelations brought to me that finally gave me closure on my sister’s fate. I had told her I had found peace and truly, initially I thought I had; until the guilt started right back up again, my dreams plagued by accusatory visions of those I perceived as having failed, Scully amongst them and I lost count of the amount of nights I woke up sweating and shaking; calling out to her in the darkness, bereft when I realised she wasn’t there with me.

But for the most part, despite ourselves, we had retreated from each other once again, neither one prepared to call the other into question as to what the hell had happened that we couldn’t seem to get past the final barrier that we had built up between us; denying ourselves anything more than the most minimal affirmation of everything we now knew we meant to each other; I have no idea as to our flawed reasoning and I know Scully has been as confused, as defeated as I have. And if I’m honest I know exactly why she chose to go with that chain-smoking bastard; because maybe by doing so she would finally deem herself worthy enough to be loved; finding affirmation that all the pain, all the hurt and all the sacrifice over the years might actually have been worth it.

That she was prepared to die for it; to give the whole fucking struggle some kind of meaning.

The knowledge makes me turn to stone inside; because this is Ed Jerse all over again. Only this time she really meant it; had been so intent on proving herself to be valuable, deserving of finally being able to make a decision that to her at least, actually meant something, that all commonsense just flew out of the window. And the fact I had been so wrapped up in my own misery, I hadn’t seen it coming; had lost sight of her somewhere along the way and the relief at her return had been so huge, so encompassing that I just couldn’t handle it and had instead turned it inwards, spun it on its head to give me justification for denying to myself everything she had come to mean to me, to rage at her when I should have been the one on my knees begging her forgiveness.

And I am terrified that my duplicity has now destroyed everything we fought so hard to build and which I sent tumbling down around us tonight when instead of actually listening to her, I waited until we were back in my apartment and then pushed her against the wall, blinded by a need to finally claim her, to take ownership, to wipe the thought of that cancer ridden bastard touching her out of my mind; grabbing her wrists in one hand while I roughly covered her lips with my own, running my free hand up and down her body, tugging at her clothes as she fought against me with a growing futility that finally stilled her as she began to cry, huge gasping sobs that finally, before I totally lost control, brought me to my senses as I dropped her wrists, stumbling away from her, appalled at such a monumental loss of control that I had only barely managed to keep in check.

And I almost collapsed when I saw the pain on her face as she dumbly turned her wrists over, seeing the fresh welts beginning to bloom against her pale skin caused by my rough, animalistic need of her; this woman who I would die for, who had only ever known or expected careful, reverent handling from me, stared at the fucking bruises that I had given her, inflicted upon her to add to the multitudes she had already received during her allegiance to me.

I didn’t even attempt to prevent her from leaving. Because what the hell could I ever say to make this right?

XXXXX

I can’t really remember getting to the bedroom; have no concept of when I decided to stop pouring the contents of the whiskey bottle down my throat. I keep it for medicinal purposes because really, I can’t stand the fucking taste of it unless it’s joined by copious amounts of lemon and honey, but tonight, since my mouth was tainted by the bitterness that can only be brought from the certain realisation that I had blown it; that finally I had succeeded in pushing away the one person on this earth who actually cared whether I lived or died, that I didn’t even taste it. I just wanted to sink in to oblivion for a few short hours.

I had almost called her, had almost called a cab to take me to her so that I might plead with her, to apologise; to seek an absolution I knew I didn’t deserve. But I didn’t. Because when it came right down to it I was just too ashamed to face her; afraid that she would just confirm my certainty that I had finally lost her for good.

The amount of alcohol I had consumed did numb me to a certain extent although I was painfully conscious that it was merely a temporary state; that tomorrow nothing would have changed. But it enabled me at least to sleep fitfully; to lose myself for a few short hours. But at some point I must have fallen in to a deeper sleep, because I didn’t hear her enter the apartment, didn’t feel the slight dip in the mattress as she slid in beside me, but I awoke to the feel of her arms around me, her body spooned against my back, one leg entwined with mine as I felt the soft hitching of her breath as she shed scalding tears that made me burn with shame; shame that she had found a strength to save us when I hadn’t been able to. Dana Scully, my light in the darkness and a thousand times stronger than I could ever hope to be.

And as I brought my hands to entwine with hers, silently thanking her for trusting me enough to be able to even do this, I knew that right now we weren’t okay. We were a million miles from being okay. But we were together. And maybe, just maybe, we would find a way to stay that way.

Concluded chapter five