You call Ten your starry boy, so maybe an au where Ten is like a star prince or something? If you’re still taking requests
• ten as a star prince or star guardian!
• basically he’s like that lil dreamworks dude, just chillin w the stars
• sometimes when people make wishes he likes to talk to the stars and find out what the wishes are
• and one night a star tells him your wish,,, that you wouldn’t be lonely
• ten could hear your voice, soft and desperate just for one night. i can’t stand being alone
• ten doesn’t understand humans very well bc he’s around stars
• and, well, stars love each other
• stars intertwine and mingle and create galaxies together
• ten is confused because don’t humans do that too?
• he decides to grant your wish personally
• normally a wish like this would have a star sending down some well-being or happiness, just so you wouldn’t feel lonely
• but ten thinks a physical being might be more appreciated
• that and he also gets lonely from time to time
• he’s currently the only star guardian in the region, and he hasn’t talked to anyone but stars in ages
• so he materializes into your bedroom
• and you scream bc what is this dude doing is he some kind of angel or demon am i going to die etc etc
• but ten just smiles and this overwhelming calm takes over your bedroom as he speaks, “hi! i’m ten! you made a wish on a star so here i am!”
• first of all…… what
• obv you don’t know how to respond but ten is already checking around your room like “do you have scrabble?”
• again….. what
• “scrabble is the only human game i know,” ten says bashfully
• nd ur like i don’t have scrabble but i have mario cart if you wanna play that??
• and you hand ten a wii controller and turn on the game
• and ten gets a hang of it pretty quickly
• and soon the two of you are like old friends, cursing and laughing at the screen
• the two of you FOUGHT over bowser but you won, making ten go for peach
• and you were both sitting on your bed, curled up in your blankets becoming bffs in a few hours
• all bc ten decided to grant your wish
• soon the two of you fall asleep, tuckered out from all of your hanging out and playing
• ten falls asleep first, buried in your pillows and snoring softly
• you just stop and look at him, feeling this overwhelming sense of thankfulness to him for granting your wish
• you don’t know who he is or what he is, but you’ll never forget the time he spent w you
• and the next morning, you wake up alone, bc ten had to go back to the stars
• but every once in awhile you look out your window, and you swear you see the same star twinkling just for you
• the end ✨
FrangipaniMuse has let me down recently. So I made myself dig this story out. It was a 60 minute word vomit inspired by a chat on @lepus-arcticus blog about what music Mulder and Scully might have listened to when they were younger.
This is set in Glastonbury in 1984. It’s total AU nonsense. But it took me back to my youth and to my country of birth. Tagging @today-in-fic and @fictober
She sunk down behind the tee-pee and scraped the crust off
the bottom of her sandals. Joan Baez was singing Diamonds and Rust and she knew Missy would be swaying along.
know about you, but I’m waiting for Billy Bragg.”
turned towards him. “I saw two shooting
stars last night, I wished on them but they were only satellites.”
in front of her, long feet sticking out from under his ripped denim hems. He
chewed on a blade of grass. “I don’t want
to change the world, I’m not looking for a new England.”
first drops of rain fell from the brooding sky. “What are you looking for?” She
felt the breath hitch in her chest, a symptom of her startling boldness. Missy
would be grinning so hard if she could see her little sister exchanging song
lyrics and bad pick-up lines with a dark and moody fellow American.
to wash the mud out of my clothes and work out what the hell I was thinking
when I agreed to come to a field in the middle of Somerset to camp and eat out of
cans. They don’t even do S’mores. It’s practically prehistoric here.”
got Graham crackers in my tent and there’s plenty of chocolate,” she said. “If
you can find some marshmallows, perhaps we can have a real American campfire.”
you have plans…I don’t know your name.”
lifted her arm towards the stage behind her. “My sister’s fallen in love for the
third time in two days. She won’t remember that she promised to cook dinner
tonight. I’m Dana.”
He took her hand in his and squeezed it. “Mulder.”
Energy fizzed through her veins. His smile was a memory-maker. His fringe
flopped into his eyes and dark stubble defined his strong jaw. Those lips, the
unreadable eyes, she felt herself blushing as he held her gaze. “My on-again,
off-again girlfriend is off-again, on-again with her other boyfriend. So, I
would be honoured to share my tin of Heinz baked beans with you. I even have
cheese – real West Country cheddar to melt on the top. If you like that kind of
thought she might.
“Do you like the Smiths, Dana?”
“I don’t think I’ve heard
anything they’ve sung.”
“If you want something to do
after baked beans, they’re on. We can go
wherever we please and everything depends on how near you stand to me.” His
voice was golden-gravel.
“Sorry?” she whispered.
“And if the people stare, then the people stare, Oh, I really don’t know
and I really don’t care. Lyrics from hand in glove. Johnny Marr and
Morrissey are poets. Their words really resonate with me, you know?” He bumped
his fist against his heart and looked away to the rolling clouds. “England is a
paradox, isn’t it?”
“How do you mean?”
“Polite and clever, proud but humble,
clever but contained, pretty in a way like no other, she’s the ideal woman; but
she’s surrounded by a bitter sea and constantly battling the demons of
tradition. She is both a queen and a princess. She’s history and charm and hope
“Are you talking about your
girlfriend or this country?”
He twisted the blade of grass in
his fingers and laughed. “Sometimes, I’m not sure but I am certain that you’ll
love the Smiths so I’d be honoured if you’d join me. Your sister might fall out
of love and be in need of some poetic metaphor to mourn to tonight.”
She put her sandals back on and
stood up, feeling small in his presence. “My sister won’t spend too much time
mourning. She bounces back pretty quickly.”
“Resilience is a great quality.”
He put a hand on the small of her back. “What do you do, Dana?”
“I’m at medical school, what
“I’m at Oxford, psychology.”
“And yet you don’t know why
His face softened. “I think I’m
A couple wandered past, entwined
and giggling. They stumbled into a tent a few spots down. The canvas shuddered.
Then they scrambled out, laughing even louder. “I think that’s what most people
here are doing. The aroma is always…somewhat…escapist.”
He laughed again. “I think there
is a natural tendency for dreaming and fantasising about a way of life that is
totally different to our own, don’t you think? I mean, when I look at the stars
I wonder what’s out there. Who’s out there.”
“I think about energy
requirements and asteroids and black holes.”
His mouth curved. “You don’t
“Life outside of earth?”
She shook her head. “Life on this
planet is hard enough to cope with, don’t you think?”
Turning, he crawled into his tent
and from the darkened inside, beckoned to her. “I’d like to show you something.”
Missy would have cackled at that
one, but his face seemed so genuine, his eyes held such intelligence, that she
got up and walked after him. He was rifling through a bag and she looked around
the tent, luggage spilling out clothes, books piled high. He turned around and
showed her a photo. In it, a boy and girl were smiling to the camera.
“Me and my sister. She was taken,
when she was eight and I was twelve.”
“Taken?” Her heart pounded and
she ran a finger over the image. A grainy shot of a girl who was no longer in
his life. A child, disappeared. But here, in this photo, always smiling. Always
reminding him of her existence. Kept in perfect innocence by a chain-reaction
of chemicals on paper.
“You asked me earlier why I was
here, why I’m escaping? She’s why.”
He offered her a beer and she
took it. They listened to the muffled music as he cooked her beans with West Country
cheddar. He chatted about his sister, the fateful night, the emotional
fall-out, his parents’ relationship. She talked about her sister and brothers,
wanting to make her father proud, her hopes and dreams.
The beer was warm but making her
ears tingle and her skin buzz. He lit up a joint and they shared it. “Marriage
and babies and a white picket fences? That surprises me, Dana.”
“You seem cut out of a different
cloth. I don’t know,” he rubbed his face and inhaled. “This is going to sound
all wrong, but I think you are here to do something extraordinary in the world.”
She let out a surprised giggle. “Like
He leant in and she could smell
his cologne, the weed, his maleness. Turning, their lips caught and he tasted
the same, of musk and possibilities. When he pulled back he had a strange smile
on his face. “Like you’re going to mean something to someone, like you’re going
to be the one soul that will help this person to truly live, like you’re going
to be powerful in an unexpected way.”
Their lips joined again and he
pulled her hard towards him. The music was lifting outside and voices rumbled
by, singing, laughing, shouting. He pulled her to the sleeping mat, covered in
a blue sleeping bag.
She bit her lip. “What about your
“What about the Smiths?”
“I predict that 1984 is just the
start of their journey. We’ll see more of them.”
His hands were already tugging at
her top and she sighed out, giving in to the pure joy of her heightened state.
“Where are you going, Mulder? On
His hands grazed her nipples and
his teeth brushed her neck. She didn’t really want to hear his answer. She
wanted to experience it. After a while, he pulled back and grinned.
above the skies’ heavy sea mist-fog bright spark you see a dragon.
sour acid spat from the skies eating into your armored mask you’ve had to replace it four times already. it’s easy to forget dragons were foes once with how everyone talks about them like they are friendly, disguising their natures behind anecdotes and exceptions.
dragons, reaching down with heavy claw and fire and nightmare heaving up the ice over troubled waters
once, on a night so dark the stars went silent you met a dragon you knew who was clad in human flesh; out of the eyes trapped intelligence. he slid his claws behind your breast- plate and hooked it off to expose your softer skin; exhaled biting halitosis over your beating heart (or maybe you offered it freely, you are never quite sure afterwards) trailed gashes; blood in lines that barely healed. burning poison poison poison beneath your coverings.
high tides and low tides, stormy dark waters to form lava; something thick and choking burning from the inside out -
dragonslayer, they call you now. dragons are experienced in violence; any weapon you raise is fuel to them and they are creatures of flame; whatever you do, you know their gas-lighting will far exceed any fire you carry with you it will consume you. no, this time you come with the information given to you by those who share the blood-lines behind your beaten breast-plate; if weapons won’t do, words in the joints of their scales might, where they are weakest.
scorching flame eating acidic sour, sour, sour
your armor clinks over the melting ice, left shoe, right shoe; your hips, weighted under your cape, sway and swing, a red flag to a demon bull
He can hear Tilly in his head, telling him how adorable his feelings are. She knew the second she saw Lorca in the same room as them, how Ash’s eyes were instantly drawn to him, how his whole face softened.
He is adorable. It’s awful.
In which Lorca has taken Ash in as a roomie, and Ash has far too many feelings in the darkness before dawn.