Length - Midnight Blue & Red Whiskey, Ch.1 - Casey

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Length - Midnight Blue & Red Whiskey, Ch.1 - Casey

Post by Fawnn » Fri Jan 10, 2020 7:21 pm

The following is a slash fanfic set in the DP universe.

Midnight Blue & Red Whiskey

Chapter 1

Sunset passed...the first of the night stars were piercing through the velvet sky...and already seating was at a premium in this small town saloon. You had been perched in a cozy corner at the far end of the bar for quite sometime now, away from the ruckus and loud gambling happening at the ancillary tables. The air was heavy; thick as honey, but with all the sweetness of dust. Dirt and sweat from the patrons hung in the air, shrouding the lamplight in an impermeable haze. Truth be told, you’d much rather be outside in the starlight, but as the nights got colder, you couldn’t deny the subtle comfort of a stiff drink and a warm place to sit and think.

While the constant murmur of miners and panners provided a nice ambient purl, there was always the occasional voice that snuck its way out. You roll your eyes as another brawny, bearded, dime-a-dozen boasts about the riches he found in the creek that day. He clicks two glasses together and announces that he’s buying a round for all the ladies. Pathetic.

Adjusting your hood to cover your eyes, you firmly tap your knuckles on the bar to catch the barkeeps attention.
“Another Whiskey, m’deer?”
“Double. Neat.”
“Want me to add it to the gentleman’s tab? He’s buyin’ a round for our kind.” she says with a flirty wink.
“Our…? No. No, I can cover my own drink.”
“Aw, Blue, you’re such a stick in the mud.” she scoffs as she slides a glass of amber liquid towards you. You catch it gracefully with your fingers and stare intently into it. You always nurse your liquor, savoring each sip, letting the pungent aromas fill your senses and mask the pain of what once was and what never again will be.

Our kind. You know full well that what she meant was “us women,” but what your heart wanted to latch onto was the possibility that there were others out there who still understood the Old Ways. No. Your “kind” had been dead for years and your life was one of solitude.

“The hell is this shit? I ordered whiskey, not piss!” A woman next to you spits out her drink in an over-dramatized display of woe. “Dammit. Last time I trade baubles for bottom shelf liquor.”

The dejected woman starts digging through her pouch, pulling out stones one by one and appraising them with intense eyes. She’s absentmindedly singing some kind of shanty under her breath as she examines the contents of her pouch and you can’t help but snicker at how peculiar she is. Even her clothing is odd; a red woolen tunic, sturdy boots, and accessories that appear to have fallen out of time. The barkeep bustles over, waving her hand in the air.

“Now you quit diggin’! Ladies drink free, thanks to that Gentleman over yonder!” the barkeep hisses, gesturing excitedly toward the boasting man.
“Listen, I’m not about that. Nothing in this life is free. I don’t give something for nothing and I don’t TAKE something for nothing.” The woman in red snarls. Then her face instantly softens and with a flick of her wrist she twirls a glittering red gem between her fingers, allowing it to sparkle in the lamplight “This pretty little stone? I’ve been saving this gem for a girl who is bold, and brash, and beautiful. A girl whose smile shines like the sun and whose eyes are as dangerous at the sea at night. A girl, well, a girl such as yourself, I might say.” the woman in red smiles with a grin that could spare her of any past or future crimes. “What do you say to a beautiful gem like this for one of them top-shelf Whiskeys?”
“Heavens!” the barkeep flushes to the color of the garnet. “You sure do know how to make a girl melt! Just a sec, sweetheart!” the barkeep-- her hands less capable than they were minutes ago-- prepares a generous shot of liquid gold and holds it in front of her face like bait.

Lifting her brows playfully, the woman in red twirls the garnet in her fingers, brushes her hand along the barkeep’s cheek, and then cleverly swaps the drink with the jewel. The barkeep stares a gape and wide-eyed, and when you realize your own jaw has also been slack for the past several moments, you clench it tight and shift your gaze as if you hadn’t even noticed the events that transpired.

A beer bottle shatters in the distance, and the barkeep breaks away to deal with the wreckage, welcoming an easy escape from her unspeakable desires. The woman in red smirks, kisses her glass, and raises it to the heavens, as if toasting with an invisible friend.

“I’m good, aren’t I?” You recognize that she is talking to you, but instead you scry intently into the amber liquor in your glass. Silence has always been easier than trying to engage with those who would never understand...but this was a new feeling. You weren’t being silent out of resentment or disappointment. It wasn’t anger. It was...fear? You were afraid to engage with her. You had been so charmed by her entire presentation that you couldn’t bring yourself to say anything for fear of making a fool out of yourself.

But what does this human care if she thinks you’re a fool? And she was definitely that. Human. For all her poetry and bewitching tricks, she definitely smelled like a human. But there was something...different? Before you can assess her scent it in a meaningful way, the woman slams down her empty glass.

“Now THAT was Whiskey.” she breathes in a hearty breath. Her eyes are closed and flutter with ecstasy in a manner reserved for more private settings. She slips her tongue tenderly between her lips, slowly savoring every last drop of the liquor. Your gaze is so focused on her lips that you can almost taste the Whiskey on them as your heart pounds beneath your belly.

“Like what you see?” she smirks with a knowing smile.
Your eyes narrow. Yeah, you were caught staring, but a life of solitude and brutal survival has earned you an impeccable poker face. “I mean, the 12 year is alright, but pales in comparison to the full-bodiedness of the 18 year.”
It’s brief, but you catch her eyes flicker with a flash of indignation. She cracks another smile. “Well excuse ME, your MAJESTY. I shall endeavor to do better next time.” she grovels, mockingly.

The insolence. You could break her with a single word if you wanted, but mortals were never worth your time. You had bigger fish to fry. And yet, she was digging under your skin in a way that you could not ignore or contain.

With a swift motion, you close your eyes, kick back the remaining contents of your whiskey and slam the empty glass on the bar. Not daining to open your eyes (not that you need your eyesight to see; you’re an expert hunter, after all), you slowly rise to your feet and tower above the woman as she stares up at you in defiant curiosity.

You slide your finger around on the bottom of your empty glass, soaking up the remaining amber drops. With the grace that only “your kind” could achieve, you gently trace your other hand around her neck, brushing the fine hairs without ever touching her skin.

You crouch to her level, but not so much as to be equal. You look down at her and her hungry eyes stare up at yours. For the first time, you have locked eyes with her. They are incredibly beautiful and painfully vulnerable. While you stare with a gaze that could inspire madness, you tenderly slip your whiskey-soaked finger into her slightly parted lips, delicately caressing her tongue. She is living for your touch and is at the mercy of the taste of the liquor on your skin.

“And that, my darling, is whiskey.” You whisper as your finger retreats from her mouth, lightly lifting her chin to stretch her neck into poignant discomfort. You swim into her eyes for several moments before retracting your hand from her chin.

You lower your magic slightly so the pain of your departure is less cruel on the poor mortal. It wasn’t cheating, per say. She had it coming to her. After all, a mouth like that would get her into trouble in these parts. But this wasn’t a favor, as much as a warning. Or even a promise. You are not to be messed with. The woman would regain her bearings again shortly, and by that time, you’d be long gone. You smirk with a throaty chuckle and toss a few coins on the bar to pay your tab.

As you exit the bar into the crisp cold night, you bundle deeper into your coat and tighten the scarf of your hood. As you do, you catch the woman’s scent on your hand. It’s intoxicating. She is mortal, yes,...but she is also sunlight and magic and hellfire and...loneliness? You breathe in her scent as deeply as your lungs can manage. Her scent is beautifully heartbreaking and it’s dizzying.

“Maybe we don’t have to be lonely tonight.” you think to yourself as you look back at the bar door. Screw the whiskey, you’re drunk on her.
Last edited by Fawnn on Sat Feb 29, 2020 8:32 am, edited 1 time in total.

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Re: Length - Midnight Blue & Red Whiskey, Ch.1 - Casey

Post by Patricia » Sat Jan 18, 2020 12:24 pm


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