#It sparks my heart with joy seeing beautiful people wearing these earrings in my city! | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

oksana-moods · 3 years

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Supernova

Summary: As the seasons passes you by, it is inevitable for you to watch the fall.

A/N: This is an AU requested by the darling @multi-muse-transect and you might find it in here. This request filled me with joy and worries at the same time, because it was hard to create a visible story in my head before trying to write it down. But I really enjoyed all the research about Nova Corps, hence it took me a little more than intended.

Warnings: Language, marvel’s canon violence… if there is any other that I should mention, please, let me know.

“You take my breath away. You're a supernova and I'm a space bound rocket ship and your heart's the moon.”

#not my pic

Carol is at a window looking at the sculptures and other buildings of Hala, she’s just arrived from a mission against Kree insurgents. ‘They're like weeds’, she thinks. No matter how hard she fights or fights back, they always come back and never learn that against the Empress they will never succeed.

The lights are beautiful in Hala, but they will never compare to the lights of the Old Earth. She takes a look at the latest reports of her home planet's reconstruction on the table beside her and sighs, knowing that New Earth will soon be ready.

Years ago, Ronan attacked Earth with the intention of destroying Carol and he did, in fact, destroy her heart. Even though she could absorb and redirect energy, she failed to destroy all the missiles before they hit the ground and then it was over. And the beginning at the same time.

Completely possessed by the grief of losing her home and loved ones, Carol went hunting for the Kree and, more importantly, for the Supreme Intelligence and, one by one, Carol brought down her tormentors until she became the Empress of Kree, residing in Hala.

Her patrols to different galaxies have been reduced as she monitors the Kree group responsible for rebuilding the Earth, chases mutineers and still rules the Empire. Her Empire. There's not even time for karaoke, she thinks, as her eyes follows a shooting star across the night sky of her capital.

Her eyes narrow when said shooting star seems to take a route, rather than a random path, because it is a celestial body without navigation. This shooting star is, in fact, very different, she observes. And, almost a second late, she notices that someone is heading right for her.

Taking her by surprise, you hit the balcony glass as if it were nothing and saw Carol's body hurl against the wall with the impact of your body. Not even spending a breath, it's your turn to be hurled against the wall when Carol fights back even harder than you.

You fight, exchange punches and blows. You notice that she's slightly surprised to find a worthy opponent, something that's still unheard of. Until today. Until you.

And that intrigues her, how could someone be so powerful without her knowing?

"Did the Kree insurgents send you?" She asks after you collide on Hala’s sky, the noise and vibrations being felt even in buildings far away from the fight.

"No." You answer. “I was sent by Nova Prime to deal with you” You barely finish your sentence, and you attack Carol again, but she's confused. She had heard of Nova Prime when she was still a Kree soldier. When she fought for the wrong side.

She then looks at you once more. She takes in the clothes you're wearing and your helmet, which covers your eyes with a blueish light but leaves your chin bare. The symbol that resembles a star painted in red on your golden helmet indicated what you are. Nova Corp. You are a corpsman.

A bright, gold insignia in a form of three circles linked in your chest shines even in the dark, showing her that you’re not an ordinary corpsman, but a Centurion. You are Nova Corps’ Commander. Okay, that explain why you’re so powerful.

"What do you want with me?" She asks without the slightest pretension to continue fighting and for the first time you don't attack, you stop and look at her. Wow, the reports of her strength and agility were consistent with what you see, but there was nothing about her beauty. Shaking your head, you answer it.

"Justice." Seeing the confused expression on Carol's perfect face, you continue. "You are crushing the democracy that existed for the inhabitants of this planet, the countless reports of an empress overthrowing entire communities have crossed galaxies."

"Justice, you say." You see her eyes flash with anger and hatred. "And what justice does Nova Prime intend to give Earth?" She approaches dangerously and you have to remind yourself to not cower under her glare.

"The Kree have destroyed my home, so I won't give them one until the New Earth is rebuilt and populated." The threat in her gaze, in her posture, was tangible. "And nothing and no one in the universe will make me concede freedom to this barbaric species."

"Being a barbarian yourself?" You turn your head to the side in a questioning tone, but she takes it as irony. Maybe it was. “An eye for an eye, as earthlings are fond of saying. Or should I say, used to like?” A kind of roar was the only warning before her fist collided with your face.

"Wash your mouth before you talk about Earth, soldier." She patched up a string of blows you couldn't get out of. "Nova Empire has always fought the Kree, why they want to protect them now?"

She was strong; you've already figured that out, but like many other very powerful beings in the universe, they tend to think they're the only ones with powers. Absorbing most of the blows and directing the energy against the empress, you use your power blast and with that, once again, Carol is hurled against the wall of her palace.

As an automatic response, Carol uses the powers of her fist and you feel the force of a thousand cannons throwing you backwards into space, grunting right after with the impact of Carol's body, engaging the fight once more.

You could tell that she was angry and, according to your studies, humans tended to be guided by such frivolous feelings. And that was something you intended to use to your advantage.

Being two beings bestowed with stamina, the fight would go on for hours until someone got tired, but if she uses her powers erratically and drenched in rage, she will be drained quicklier.

“I am the Empress of the Kree Empire! Answer me!" The tone of voice in which she addresses you makes it clear that your goal of getting under her skin is working. With a smirk, you respond.

“Nova Empire takes care of the galaxy and has balance as its main goal, your highness. To overpower other species is not our intention.” Your response seems to enrage her even more and the only reaction you got from her was more blows and more blasts in your direction.

You dodge, you block, and you realize she's getting careless then letting her guard down. And that's where you come in with quick jabs almost powerless, only to enrage her more and more. Just to remind her that even an Empress has weaknesses.

You hit the ground and certainly the people throughout the city felt like it was an earthquake. Something was off and before you could react, Carol hits you with a blast right in the middle of the chest, throwing you meters and meters into a random building.

This time, you start feeling the impact on every wall you hit. You feel dizzy, your hand is shaking, and you find yourself bleeding. ‘What's going on?’ You think as you watch Carol's figure to grow in your field of vision.

The smirk on her face is ridiculously sexy, but you barely have time to make any comments before her voice reaches your ears. "Apparently, you're not that tough without your helmet on, are you?"

You look at her hand that is carrying what was once your helmet, now just broken shards and she drops it into your lap. Without your helmet you are ruined, as is your mission.

The smirk and one last punch were the last thing you remember before she knocks you down cold.

---

Your head was about to explode inside your skull, and you blink at the light entering your cell. All that brightness was not helping your headache at all.

It's been a few days since you've been taken prisoner by Empress Carol Danvers and whether Xandar knows or has noticed your disappearance is something you have no idea of. And when Nova Prime sends reinforcements after you it won't be pretty.

Before proceeding on your mission, you had already been informed that all diplomatic avenues had been tried but completely closed by the Empress. That way, Xandar wouldn't try negotiations to try to get you back. Perhaps this would trigger a new war.

A war you couldn't afford. Certainly, you didn't want the weight of being the trigger or the spark in a cold battle of inflated tempers on your shoulders. Carol had a very short fuse, as you witnessed firsthand, while Prime could be an slayer when the situation called for it.

Days passed, becoming weeks and your monotonous existence is only interrupted by the Empress's daily visits. Visits that you don't know why she still keeps, when it's pretty obvious that you have no information to provide.

You are a member of the Nova Corp and have been sent on a solo mission to "dissuade" the Empress from continuing to rule her own empire with an iron fist. There were no ulterior motives, no espionage or reinforcements waiting in the moon not far from Hala.

You were a single, last resource. There was nothing but you and your broken form. A failed soldier.

You were standing, watching the sun shining on buildings across Hala through the small window in your cell, admiring the dots circling farther down the street, almost forgetting that each dot was a person. You wonder if Carol forgets who they are.

"Um, admiring my city, I see." You spare her a brief glance before you return it to the window. She was in a red robe with local designs, and you can't shake off your head at how beautiful she is. How beautiful she looks in red. Or any other color.

You don't exactly know why Carol still comes to your cell, but you can't lie to yourself that you don't like it. You do. But you convince yourself that any company is better than the solitude of these walls, just that and nothing else.

She is an empress after all. A Sovereign, considered by many to be evil and tyrant. But each gentle gesture towards you reminds you that her hands are stained with blood. Like yours. Your conscience doesn't seem to know which side it should be on.

"Forgive me if my boredom is exacerbated, your city is the only thing I have left to admire." You answer still looking ahead, afraid to look at her and be mesmerized. The Empress was a mystery that captivated you, as her answers were never what you would expect them to be. Just like now.

“I could end your boredom. Hala’s Summer Trade is famous across the galaxy, have you ever tasted Pluot Fruit?” Your head swivel towards her so fast it feels like a whip.

"Summer?" Quickly you do the math in your head, in this solar system the days and seasons were longer than in Xandar, so... "How long have I been kept in here?"

"Too long, Nova." Nova? What kind of nickname is this? Shaking your head, you question her. "Nova? This is not my name." She giggles and moves closer to the energy field that makes up your cell door, she’s one yard away so you can smell her perfume. White jasmine.

“I know it isn't. But I decided to abbreviate the title of Nova Corps to Nova, besides, I own this place…” she opens her arms to emphasize what she's talking about. "I can call you whatever I want, prisoner."

You decide to play her game and with a smirk on your face you respond. “Prisoner? Now, seconds ago weren’t you inviting me for a walk, your highness?”

You lick your lips when you see her face contorting in a mix of anger and something else, but what, you don't know. “You abuse my benevolence too much. Your precious Xandar never tried to open a ransom deal, you are of no use to them or to me.”

Her words crash into your chest, and you feel your heart break a little more. Months have passed and there was no sign of another corpsman coming to your rescue and now she tells you that Nova Prime didn't even try to negotiate your freedom.

You close your eyes and with small, defeated steps you walk to the window. A lifetime dedicated to Nova Corp and Xandar, to be abandoned like a stray dog lost from its owners. Like someone worthless.

Defeated and hopeless, you ask Empress Carol why she still keeps you alive. Standing in the hallway leading to the dungeons hall she smiles triumphantly and speaks. "For my entertainment, prisoner."

"What do you think of the Pluot?" Carol's voice breaks your train of thought.

"Strangely delicious." You respond by referring to the strange appearance, as if it was a dried fruit and not completely juicy right after tasting it.

As with the fruit, such was your surprise to see Carol's interaction with her subjects. Many of them kept their distance, paid their obeisance and respects to the Empress, and continued on their way with their heads low.

However, a reassuring number of people seemed to genuinely like or even admire Carol and not out of obligation. Doing a 180° turn in the opinion you once held of the Empress, she was extremely adorable when interacting with children.

Who knew the fearsome tormentor of the Kree empire would be so… human? How can someone, who keeps a prisoner just for her own pleasure, be so kind? You wonder if they were the same person at all.

She smiles in response to what you said and you smile back, completely unsure of the reasons why you do.

After the Hala market tour went without incident, that is, without any attempt to escape on your part, Carol has granted you the right to stroll through the inner gardens of her palace. As much as you want to hate the way she plays as if you were a puppet, you can't.

You try to hate her, but each day you spend in her company makes it harder for you to deny the feeling that, gradually, grows in your chest. Then, you find yourself desperate to hang this passion before it's too late.

Your morning walks allow you to see autumn slowly approaching, little by little, with each leaf touching the ground. And if you used to enjoy Carol's garden alone, over time, the Empress's company became part of your routine.

"Why are you still keeping me alive, Carol?" You rarely addressed her by the title of empress or nobility, and she never forced you to use it, she seemed not to care whether you recognized her power or not. Nor did he seem to mind when you used it ironically.

"I like your company." She answered and that made you look directly into her eyes. "It isn't every day that I find a match." Her answer made something boil in your chest and you had to force your heart to understand that she was probably referring to the fight.

"I'm not a match for you, your highness." You spoke. "Everything special about me came from an enhanced helmet." A sad smile danced on your lips, remembering how powerless you felt when you saw it broken in her hand. You remembered how broken you felt yourself.

“Everything special about you comes from your heart, Nova.” Her tone was low and as much as you wanted, there was nothing to grasp in it. She spoke this sentence as if she were speaking about the weather but for you it just set your heart on fire.

Between stories from a lifetime ago, when Carol was only a human being without a single clue that the universe was bigger than her world and stories from her time adapting and training in Hala, you felt yourself slowly but surely falling for her.

The change for you was visible and you prayed it would be visible only to you. If before you thought she was beautiful, now she’s extremely attractive in your eyes. Even when choosing simple robes, Carol was always dressed impeccably.

After spending so much time together, it was only a matter of time before you realized that the Empress was possessed of vast intellect and knowledge about many different things.

But what strike you most was how funny and mundane she could be, yet, she still had that special something in her eyes that never failed in make you weak. You were a prisoner, indeed. A prisoner of her eyes.

Unlike many extremely powerful beings, Carol was humble enough to listen to your stories, and even encouraged you to tell more details about yourself. She never quite understood, but something about you drew her as if you were a magnet.

The sparkle in your eyes as you spoke about your homeland, friends, or your passion and honor in serving Nova Corp thrilled her. There were many things in you that stirred emotions in her, as well as aroused feelings that she thought she was no longer capable of feeling for a long time.

And so, without realizing it and at the same time fully aware of what was going on beneath her skin, the Empress fell in love with her Prisoner.

Winter at Hala marked when your quarters were no longer a cell but a room in Empress's palace. Larger than your home in Xandar, the room was beautifully decorated with art, and you could discern some Xandar artwork. You wonder if it was coincidence.

Despite being as warm as a star, Carol suggested that both of you should trade your walks in the garden for spending time in the library available at the palace. And that's how you began to be the Empress's company during her meals.

It started with lunch and then evolved into dinner and now Carol finds herself waiting for your presence before even touching her plate. ‘I shouldn't allow myself such weakness’, she thought. However, she couldn't bring herself to change or to avoid the need of your company.

"I beg your pardon?" You speak, barely able to avoid spilling your soup. The increasingly warm but shy rays of the sun and the many animals strolling in the courtyard tell you that spring is just around the corner. And that's exactly what almost made you spill the soup, in first place.

Carol cleared her throat, promptly speaking again, as if you had not heard her from the first time. “I’d be delighted if you grant me the honor of your company for the Spring Ball due in two weeks.” She looked at you expectantly.

Your mind was swirling as to why she would want you as her company, out of all people. She was the Empress; she could have anyone she wanted by her side. Yet, here she was, asking you to be her date.

The time in Hala flew slower as it did in Xandar, but it felt like the opposite, for the Ball came faster than you thought it be possible.

And here you were, walking down the entrance stairs in a beautiful golden gown with Carol’s arm locked with yours. Her deep green dress was marvelous and when you saw her welcoming you with that pretty smile of hers you thought you could melt.

Much to your dismay, Carol could sing just as she’d told you she could, but you never believed in her. It wasn’t hard for you to realize that you were free falling in love with her even more than you already were. If it was possible, you fell in love again. You’d be her prisoner, forever.

As the night went on, you were mesmerized by the ball, the music, and the way of life in Hala. It felt like a different life, one that very much resembled prince and princess’ tales that you heard when you were a kid.

A life that didn’t quite belong to you but looking into her eyes it made it feel like everything was possible, reachable, as if her power could create a different world. Just as she did. As ruler of the Kree empire, she created a new kingdom.

Standing in the balcony, you welcomed the cold air hitting your skin that was inebriating your senses, previously flooded by the Empress. The stars illuminated the sky of Hala making the city bellow you even prettier.

A soft touch in your hand brings your gaze back to its owner and a small gasp scape your lips when you see how close she is, even more so when you wish she were closer. “I never told you how beautiful you are tonight.” Her voice was barely above a whisper.

“You flatter me, your highness. You’re flawless yourself.” A small smile creeped up her lips and you forced yourself to keep your eyes locked with hers, proven to be a hard task when she started to lean into your ear.

“There is something that I wanted to tell you for a while ago.” Her hands on your waist made it difficult for you to pay attention to her words, along with the feel of her cheek touching your cheeks made your knees weak.

“You’re no longer a prisoner and you can leave Hala if you want to.” Her thumb drew patterns where it touched you and you could feel your skin burning. “You’re free, but I wish you’d stay here.” She backed down and now her eyes were boring into yours.

“I wish you’d stay here with me.” She stressed.

Your heart and head were running thousand miles per hour in completely opposite directions. The rational part of you wanted to take your freedom and go back to Xandar, even though you should find it suspicious that, almost after a year, she’d let you go. Specially after you’d learned so much about Hala. About her.

However, your heart’s been slowly giving itself to this woman right in front of you, and there was nothing that you wanted more than to stay here with her. Surely, you felt left behind by Nova Prime, but it still stings in you that no one came after you. Not even a fellow corpsman.

‘Not one that you know, for that matter.’ You shook your conscience’s voice away and gave in to your heart. The rational part of you broke at the exact same time as did your helmet.

“Carol, I…” You begin but she interrupts you by placing an oh so soft lips on yours and there is no voice to hear anymore. Nor rational, nor emotional. There are only her lips pouring her heart into a kiss and you do just the same.

Right in that moment you felt as if your heart was about to melt, maybe it would, if she hadn’t broken the kiss and rested her forehead in yours.

“Tell me you’ll stay and rule by my side.” Before the true meaning of her words could sink in, the sky of Hala suddenly shone as if thousands of stars appeared right in that moment, drawing the attention of you both.

Not long until you realized that it wasn’t stars, but thousands of spaceships painting the night over your heads, and you’d recognize those ships anywhere. Xandar was here. And a voice that you’d never forget was heard above all noise.

“I am Nova Prime and Xandar declares war to Empress Carol, accused of murdering Nova Corps’ Commander.”

‘Why are they accusing her of murder?’ You thought to yourself. It does not make sense that she’s being accused of killing you when you’re alive. Unless…

“Carol, what did you do?”

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hubbytaeil · 4 years

Note

hello! can u please do angst #6 from your prompt list for johnny?? maybe some enemies or fake dating ?! thanks <3

Johnny + #6 It’s a real shame nobody asked for your opinion

genre: kind of angst, reneissanse!au

synopsis: an alternative universe in which reader is a Medici and Johnny is a Pazzi in 15th Century Florence. In case you didn’t know, Giovanni is the equivalent of John

tw: mentions of blood and death

word count: 3k+

a/n: there i go again putting together two of my favourite things together aka Johnny and Italy so really this is pure self-indulgence. On top of that, this will be the last post I make. I’ve been thinking a lot, I’ve put two and two together and I understood that I’m about to enter the busiest period/year of my life, but that’s adulting right? Either way, it was fun to be here while it lasted, thank you for your support but I feel like I need to concentrate on getting my life together now. Remember to take care of yourself, nenétte says goodnight <3

It was a perfect night for a celebration; it seemed as though the whole city of Florence had gathered in the presence of the Corsini in their great villa. Music played gayly and the atmosphere was filled with laughter and joy. You knew very well this was all your friend Matilde’s doing, her social gatherings were known to be the most entertaining throughout the republic. The reason of the celebration was unknown but the guests were having a splendid time. When you finally questioned Matilde about it, she just shrugged her shoulders.

“Must a lady always have an excuse for her to wish for good company and a good laugh?” she whispered in your ear so that she would not be heard by her older sisters.

“Oh, most certainly not. Yet, I am still rather perplexed on why the lady in question has to invite the entire city in her home to simply have a laugh.” you responded, holding her hand in a teasing manner.

“We should enjoy ourselves for as long as we can, y/n. Just like your brothers always say, don’t they?” you nodded at Matilde’s statement, glancing over at your brother Lorenzo engaged in what seemed a heated conversation with one of the guests. You always regarded yourself to have had such a lucky disposition, having been born in one the most influential families of the peninsula. Yet, your true luck laid in the wonderful family members you had been blessed with. A young lady such as yourself could not have hoped for a better environment to grow up in, surrounded by illustrated artists who would always come in and out of your household, the toms of the library of your beloved father, God rest his soul, and, of course, the presence of your ever so outstanding siblings. Lorenzo noticed your gaze towards him and he saw how must’ve been lost inside your numerous thoughts. He shook his head slightly. Divertiti. Have fun, he mouthed. You smiled enthusiastically, remembering what such beautiful lines of wisdom you had found lying on his desk along the piles of scattered papers. You felt the need to share them with Matilde.

“As my dear brother would say, del domani non c’è certezza. Of tomorrow there’s no certainty.”

“And would your other dear brother say, sorella?” Giuliano intruded in your conversation but Matilde was not at all displeased. Giuliano had that effect on every lady (or lord), with his astonishing complexion and rather captivating character that at times could be considered rather bellicose.

“Well in your case, you would just simply sneak away with the fairest lady here present and leave your younger siblings to watch out for themselves.” you affirmed, of course he couldn’t help but smirk at truthfulness of your words.

“Not this time, y/n. Tonight I’m very determined to protect you from the rapacious gazes of Florentine society. Mother’s orders.” Said Giuliano sternly, locking his arm with yours, leading you to dance and separating you from Matilde.

“Is that so, Giuliano? Is any of the gentlemen here present organising some sort of coup against my character?” you implied, trying to veil your cheeky smile. As the music initiated, you let your brother guide you in the sea of people, hoping not to get the wrong steps and end up on someone’s feet, just like what happened last time with one of the Albizzi boys.

“Not that I know of, no. But who knows what are these pompous bastards’ ways to smear our family.” your brother hissed when he got the chance to be close to your ear as he made you turn.

“You’d know better not to utter such profanities, messere.” you muttered, mocking your childhood governess which made Giuliano laugh silently as he positioned you both in line. You continued on dancing and you could feel your brother glaring at every gentleman whose turn was it to dance with you. Much to your determined protector’s surprise, you had never cared much for the company of men, therefore you were sure you could defend yourself in case of uncomfortable or inconvenient situations. You limited yourself to exchange the bare minimum of pleasantries, enough for you to be polite but not enough for them to justify any sort of pursuing. An equilibrium soon to be disrupted by a young man, all dressed in black, who you had never seen before, not at any of Matilde’s parties or in church or even in one your brothers’ company. The gentleman, who most definitely stood out for his imposing height, took your hand and led you forward. You had never felt intimidation in the presence of the opposite sex, as opposed to what all decent ladies are taught, and yet there was something about him that made you both fear and admire him, with his hair long and dark and his serious gaze.

“Are you enjoying yourself, my lady?” his raucous voice filled your ears as he made you sway past him and back at his side. You tried to compose yourself.

“Most definitely, my lord. I reckon you are as well.”

“I am certainly, though it is rather unfortunate that no other lady can dance as well as you.” whispered the puzzling man, in the corner of your eye you saw a smirk. That must have been the dreaded coup Giuliano was worrying about. You were ashamed to admit that being charmed wasn’t as unpleasant as you had expected. You could’ve even get used to it if it meant looking into the stranger’s beautiful eyes and how they glowed under the candle lights. They irradiated a particular light, making anyone believe that they held some type of knowledge a common person could not aspire to.

“It is the mere product of practice. Truth to be told, I find books more entertaining at times.” you took a step forward together, hand in hand.

“Is that so? And in what readings have you most interest?” you smirked at his question, holding in a chuckle, resulting in him frowning as he waited for your respond. He pulled you in and then you spun around him.

“I’m afraid if I told you, messere, you wouldn’t want to pay me such honouring compliments anymore.” You showed him your most endearing smile and he gladly reciprocated, staring at you attentively as you draw a circle around him.

You were doleful to let go of his hand just to give it to another gentleman. Faster than you expected, the dance came to an end you were already anticipating to resume the conversation with your newest acquaintance. You felt silly in not having asked for his name. You spotted his eyes again the crowd and he was svelte to start making his way to you. But before he could reach you, you observed how his eyes shifted from you to something that was behind. His expression had darkened. You turned around to realise how that something was no other than a rather crossed Giuliano. The young man froze where he stood, meanwhile Giuliano was quick to grab you gently by the arm.

“I most definitely have oppositions about your taste in men, y/n.” your brother grumbled, not taking his flaming eyes off the gentleman dressed in black.

“I actually found him to be the most agreeable gentleman to dance with me tonight. What could your oppositions be, brother?” you glanced over at him once again, wearing a pleased smile. This time he didn’t even flinch, he had reassumed the initial austere expression. It set off a bitter taste in your mouth.

“Do you really wish to know the reason of my oppositions?” Giuliano’s tone was strange. You knew he was hiding something from you. You nodded impatiently, only wanting to find out the dynamics of this sudden change of mood.

Giuliano let your hand rest on his as he made his way to the unknown man with you at his side. Your heart sank in your chest once you were face to face yet again with the handsome stranger. What was your brother trying to do?

“Giuliano de’ Medici.” spoke the tall man. You were not surprised at him knowing who your brother was, but it didn’t explain at all why this was your first time seeing him.

“Giovanni de’ Pazzi.” responded Giuliano. Your throat ran dry at the sound of that name and your head was suddenly heavier.

It couldn’t be. He was a Pazzi, but how was this possible? You had never seen him around any other person who carried such dreadful surname. All good dispositions towards the man changed in the blink of an eye. And all it took was a bloody name.

“Tell me Giovanni, how was England? It was quite a lengthy stay, wasn’t it?” Giuliano posed his question, but the usual tone of mockery was not trying to be hidden by any means.

“It was indeed, lengthy enough for me to start calling myself John, like the locals did. But I have missed Florence very much.” John’s tone on the other hand was firm and poised, hard to believe he was a Pazzi if one didn’t notice the deadly spark in his dark eyes, the same spark you had mistaken for a sign of a respectable man.

“May I present to you my sister, y/n de’ Medici?” the reveal of both of your identities had banished any sort of possible affection between you and John. There you stood face to face, a pernicious look in both of your eyes. You bowed never letting your gaze leave him, not interested in being polite, not to him or any member of his family.

“It was a pleasure to make your acquaintance, madonna. I certainly look forward on having more conversations regarding our favourite lectures.” his devious smirk didn’t look as charming anymore, not when it reminded you of the odious man who was head of his family.

“I certainly do, messer Pazzi.” you responded with not even a drop of sincerity, you made sure the message was clear. You heard an unpleasant voice calling out John’s name. It was Francesco de’ Pazzi.

“If you’ll excuse me, my brother requires my presence.” John bowed elegantly and was swift to leave you and Giuliano alone. You squeezed your brother’s hand as tight as you could after John was far away enough.

“Say, what would you do without me, sorella?” Giuliano was glad in having succeeded in your mother’s plan but you felt deceived and most importantly, you felt uneasy having been so close to someone who despised your family so deeply. Though you were relieved in having been saved from stepping into the lion’s den.

“They should hang these Pazzis’ portraits around town so that decent young ladies don’t make the grave mistake of dancing with them.” you whispered bitterly.

“You seemed quite glad in the moment; I’ve never seen you look at a man like that.” Giuliano teased you.

“Do shut your mouth, and don’t mention this to anyone.” you warned him, your voice shaking thinking about John’s hand touching yours, about his eyes piercing through you like an arrow.

“Whatever for? Lorenzo always speaks of ending this rivalry once and for all. Perhaps, he’ll be happy to acquire a Pazzi as a brother-in-law.” Giuliano spoke with poison in his voice, since he clearly didn’t agree with his oldest sibling. Not to mention just weeks prior Francesco de’ Pazzi and Giuliano had been involved in a fight around the market place. Giuliano had a tumultuous character and it didn’t help the devilish rumours the Pazzi would spread about your family. You clang at Giuliano’s arm like you did when you were child.

“I shall never speak to a Pazzi ever again, let alone marry one. Just the mere thought makes my skin crawl.” had you and Giuliano been alone, you would’ve spat on the ground.

“Well, you’re in luck, I’d never let you commit such treason against our family, but must importantly, against me.” you both chuckled softly, hoping not be observed by anyone who would report what you were saying to the people involved.

“I know you two are up to no good, whatever is going on?” Lorenzo approached you, assuming a concerned look.

“Absolutely nothing, brother. I was just mentioning how all eyes seem to be on y/n this evening.” confidently answered Giuliano, tapping on the palm of your hand.

The evening was far from being over. Though, unlike your brothers, you required fresh air from time to time during crowded banquets such as these. You asked Matilde to join you on one of the balconies but she kindly refused after Giuliano finally asked her to dance. Therefore, you made your way alone. You rested your palms on the reeling, breathing in and out, looking up at the sky and following the trail of stars.

“You know, my uncle always says you Medici spend so much time looking up at the clouds that you forget what really matters.” a familiar voice sent a chill through your spine, making you shiver in result. You turned around to see John standing in between the pillars with a smug look on his face. Perhaps he thought he had conducted you into some trap. You pitied him.

“And my dear brother Lorenzo always say that you Pazzi waste all your great potential in going after what is out of your reach.” you replied severely, your back as straight as it could be. John snickered at your comeback. He looked rather dangerous with his face beaconed by the torches hanging on the wall, almost like Lucifer after having fallen from heaven. You had to admit, there was a hint of fear inside of you but shut it out as fast as you could.

“Have you been sent here to antagonise me?” you asked him since he hadn’t spoken.

“You are a Medici indeed.” John affirmed almost to himself, observing your every feature. “But no, I hadn’t such intentions. Though I could, if you were inclined.” said John, taking a step towards you.

“You’d be wise not to antagonise the wrong person, messere. One may even get hurt.” you warned him, looking at him dead in the eye. You were not used to stepping down to anyone, you were proud and not ashamed of it. Thought you two seemed to share this particular trait. It was a silent quarrel.

“Well, if that isn’t an inviting prospect.” John grinned, not taking your fervour seriously.

“So, you have come to antagonise me. I guess it runs in the family.” you raised your eyebrows in false surprise. “Did your uncle have to bring you back here all the way from England for this sole purpose?” you laughed in his face but his expression didn’t mutate. Yet his body seemed to tense up.

“The reasons of my return certainly do not concern you, my lady. Furthermore, I gathered you were enjoying yourself mingling with a Pazzi. Now, that’s not a behaviour worth of a Medici, is it?” John scolded you and rage created a stinging sensation that spread throughout your body. You tightened your fists, to the point where they hurt, anything not to let wrath cloud your judgment.

“I do not believe you are to be the best individual to judge what is worth of a Medici or not.” you stated as you commenced to circle around him.

“You have just returned to Florence and you are probably following your brother’s orders to please him. In that case, I wouldn’t blame you for your foolish provocative attempts.” you completed the circle as you said this.

“but I would blame you if such behaviour had been deliberate. Oh, it would’ve been so unfair to me, messer Pazzi.” you affirmed, sarcastically raising the pitch of your voice. You stood once again face to face, far away from the brief moment of propensity that you two had shared hours prior. You weren’t sure if his lively eyes regarded you as a prey or as his equal. John contemplated you, his opponent, before breaking into a smile.

“And what a pain it would be, y/n” You saw him move his hand preparing to reach for yours until he refrained himself “for you to know that I’ve been unfair to you.” John knew how to play this game very well indeed, whether he had learnt from his brother or anyone else in the family. Did he stop himself because in him there was enough decency left that didn’t make him want to compromise a young lady? Or perhaps did he want to prolong the fun he was having?

“Your perseverance is admirable, Giovanni” you saw him wince at his real name being pronounced. “though too much of it could lead to dangerous outcomes.” your venomous threat didn’t make John retreat but you could see that he was impressed by it.

“I certainly hope this fierceness of yours doesn’t get you into trouble, my lady.” he whispered.

“And it is a real shame no one has asked for your opinion in regard of my character, my lord.” you stared into each other's eyes like sword blades colliding. It was a tie.

“Y/n.” you heard Lorenzo calling your name, though it resounded like white noise in your ears. He informed you that it was time to leave. You looked over John’s shoulder and saw him looking rather preoccupied. You were glad that it wasn’t Giuliano or else he would’ve challenged John straight away after seeing you alone with him. You didn’t even bother bowing to John and you simply took heavy steps towards your brother.

“Are you alright, y/n?” Lorenzo questioned, rubbing one of your shoulders.

“I’m feeling splendid, do not worry about me.” you reassured him. You glanced back at John whose expression was cryptic. You worried if that expression was going to haunt your dreams that night.

“Have a good night, madonna. I’m sure we’ll have plenty of other occasions to talk about Ovid.” John hinted at the conversation you had during the dance and it made you fume with both rage and humiliation. You saw your brother’s expression darken at John’s words but he remained calm, even if the grip he had on you said otherwise. You, on the other hand, were seeing red. It was beyond unfairness; it was absolutely evil. You pushed aside the fear of John spreading vicious rumours about you being promiscuous or loose solely based on that conversation.

“There’ll be no need.” you affirmed, succeeding in keeping your voice stable. “I believe we have nothing more to say to each other. Have a good night.” and like that you stormed out alongside your brother, utterly infuriated at the state of wrath John had put you in.

“You and Giuliano are going to be the death of me, you know that?” Lorenzo muttered in your ear after you two had reached the carriage.

“I’m so sorry, brother.” you lowered your gaze.

“I believe you have done nothing to be sorry or ashamed for.” he made your raise your head and look in his eyes. “Furthermore, at your age I was way more reckless than you are right now.” he made you chuckle which slightly lifted your spirits. It didn’t shake off the feeling that you had made a terrible enemy that night. John eventually came to visit you in the first nightmare you had in years. One in which he was standing victorious over Giuliano’s lifeless body who laid on the altar of the Duomo, the holy cloth covered in his blood.

#johnny au #johnny scenarios #johnny imagines #johnny fic #johnny angst #nct 127 imagines #nct 127 scenarios #nct au #nct imagines #nct scenarios #nct dream scenarios #johnny smut

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harlot-of-oblivion · 5 years

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The Heart of the Camellia(Part 7)

After having dinner with the rest of the crew, Vergil offers to walk you home while trying to solve a puzzling conundrum: how to ask you to be his date to the wedding.

It's finally back after two LONG months! Hope you guys enjoy this flowery installment! 🌺😊🌺

The song featured is To a Wild Rose by Edward MacDowell, but I listened to the Emile Pandolfi version while writing that scene...its a tad bit longer and has more embellishments here and there. 🌹🥰🌹

Here’s the link to the list of all the flowers featured in this part.🌸💖🌸

Chapter 2: Wild Roses, Wild Nights

There is one thing that Vergil has not gotten used to since living in the human world, and that is being social among a big crowd of people. The clatter of utensils and clicking of glasses makes it hard to concentrate on his own thoughts as everyone chatters and bickers around the table. In all honesty, this racket would usually make him a tad bit uncomfortable, but the presence of you, his lovely rose, sitting beside him brings peace of mind during the chaos of dinner with the crew.

As you laugh at his brother’s punny jokes and smile happily while talking with Kyrie, he cannot help but to admire you from the corner of his eye. He especially pays close attention to the beautifully crafted flower crown that adorns your head. The delicate vines of pink wisteria intertwining seamlessly with the bright lavender asters adds a certain allure to your enchanting charm. His mind keeps mulling over the meaning of the flowers, which never fails to summon that familiar warmth deep within his chest.

I feel the blossoming of love.

And perfect patience will help it bloom.

Vergil’s hands begin to fidget underneath the table as he concentrates on keeping his usual cool composure. Normally, his demeanor is quite calm during these social engagements with the crew, but he recalls Dante talking him into wearing an entirely different wardrobe. It’s highly aggravating that my meddlesome brother has been going through my closet…again, Vergil huffs in his head. But he relents to his brother’s advice despite feeling wary about being deprived of a familiar comfort just so he did not keep everyone waiting.

He picks out a nice dark blue button up shirt and a pair of black dress pants with a matching trench coat before quickly getting ready. When he heads back downstairs, some of the crew raise an eyebrow at him, noticing the obvious change of his usual attire. But he swells with pride when he catches sight of your flushed face as he walks over to you. It reminds him of the expression you had when he was talking to you into the shop’s kitchen, cheeks growing pinker the longer your eyes linger over his bare chest.

As he remembers your cute blunder about “doing pretty boy” his lips twitch into a smug grin, utterly satisfied with himself for rousing such a flustered reaction from you. And when he discerns just how affected you are by his change of clothes…perhaps he should change his wardrobe more often, especially if it elicits such an endearing blush upon your lovely face.

The smug grin quickly disappears, however, when the rather awkward ride in the Devil May Cry van plays in his mind. Usually, there is just barely enough room for the whole crew to stuff themselves inside the messy RV, but there are not enough seats with you joining them. Dante loudly informs you that you can share “frowny flower’s” seat just as Nico revs the engine. Vergil glares his brother’s vulgar suggestion but makes the split-second decision to sit you astride his lap so that you would not get knocked back by Nico’s horrendous driving skills.

Just the mere memory of your body bouncing against his thighs makes his heart hammer in his chest while his hands fidget faster underneath the table. He remembers having to summon all his willpower not to visibly blush, trying hard not be enraptured by your intoxicating scent while you clutch his shoulders tightly. And any inappropriate thoughts about the sounds that came out of your mouth during the whole ride was quickly snuffed out before you or anyone was none the wiser.

“Flower for your thoughts?”

Vergil feels dainty fingers gently cover his jittery hands as your sweet inquiry brings him out of his improper ruminations. His eyes dart over and peer down at your slightly worried face, your thumb brushing the back of his knuckle fondly as you lean in closer to hear his answer. The corners of his mouth lift into a soft grin before he entwines his fingers with yours as he leans down and whispers by your ear.

“It seems the crew enjoys your company, Y/N.”

A brilliant smile lights up your face. “I can’t help that I’m so poplar!” you lightly jest with a cute pun, cheeks turning pink as you demurely turn your head away.

He chuckles softly, feeling much more at ease as his thumb strokes the back of your hand. When you slip back into the many conversations going on over the table, he notices a certain spark of joy in your eyes as you joke and chat with the rest of the crew. He knows how lonely you get outside of his visits to your garden, and when Dante suggested that you should tag along for dinner, he did not hesitate to invite you.

And now you’re the epitome of beauty in full bloom, my lovely rose.

Vergil continues to hold your hand away from the prying eyes of the crew underneath the table. He squeezes and caresses your hand every now and then all through dinner, secretly enjoying the subtle glances and coy smirks you give him while caressing his hand back. And towards the end of dinner, he finds himself easily joining in on whatever brash banter and ludicrous tales Dante is currently spinning, inserting his own wry and deadpan comments here and there in between his retelling.

After they are done with dinner, Vergil steels himself for another awkward ride as the crew heads back to the accursed van. You gently tug on his sleeve on the way though and softly point out with an encouraging grin that it is not too far of walk back to your home. His lips curl into a thankful smirk before offering his arm to you as he announces to the rest of the crew that both of you will be walking instead of enduring Nico’s reckless driving again.

“Pff! Still got us here before the big dinner rush, didn’t I?” Nico argues loudly as she tries to light up a cigarette. Before Vergil can even refute her claim, Dante rushes over and quickly cuts him off.

“Say it ain’t cilantro!” he exclaims dramatically while raising his fists towards the sky in mock anguish. Vergil just gives his fool of a brother a blank stare while you laugh and answer him with one of your puns.

“Get clover it!” you quip back playfully.

Dante clutches his chest and gasps. “Your words…they prick me, Buttercup!”

Vergil pinches his brow. “We must make haste before it gets dark, Dante.”

And with that, both of you say your farewells to the crew before departing. Kyrie and Lady both give you a light hug while Nero waves and nods from afar. Dante claps a hand on his shoulder and gives him the most exaggerated wink in all of existence. Vergil scowls at him, feeling close to summoning a sword right behind his nosy brother, but thankfully you are unaware of his brother’s horrible attempt at subtlety.

Both of you stroll down the street while you gush about the crew and how much fun you had getting to know them over dinner. Vergil smiles and listens intently to your enthusiastic praise, interjecting every now and then with his own commentary, most of them being sarcastic jabs directed towards his brother. You laugh at his wry attempt at humor, affection gleaming behind your eyes as you pull yourself closer to his arm.

Sometime during the light conversation, he recalls the reason behind Dante’s idiotic wink. A couple of days ago, he and his brother received an official invitation to his son’s wedding personally from Kyrie. The invitation itself was very elegant with neat cursive cordially inviting him and “plus one” to the wedding. He remembers raising an eyebrow at this odd phrase and asking his future daughter-in-law the meaning behind it. She smiled sweetly before explaining that she thought he might like to invite a friend as his date to the wedding.

It only took Vergil a moment to deduce Kyrie’s true intentions before his heart skipped a beat. Even now, as he walks through the city streets with you, just the mere thought of asking you to be his date to the wedding makes him feel both eager and apprehensive. What utter nonsense…a Son of Sparda shouldn’t hesitate, he mentally berates himself. But that still does not quell the odd churning sensation in his stomach as his mind begins to frantically reel, trying to sort out how he should exactly go about this little conundrum.

“That crinkly brow of yours has racked up quite the bouquet today!”

Your cheery voice knocks him out his fretful thoughts. “I beg your pardon?” he replies, never slowing his stride while peering down at you as his brow furrows in slight agitation.

“Oh!” you gasp. “Is that a grumpy frown I see?” you observe playfully, trying your best not to smile by biting your lower lip. “You know what that means…!”

Before he can even retort with his own wry response, you are already throwing the hand not currently wrapped around his arm high up into the air. The bright blue petals of forget-me-nots fall around him soon after, gracefully drifting down as a triumphant grin spreads across your face. Vergil sighs as he passes through the tiny cloud of flowers, but he can never find it in him to be truly annoyed by your spontaneous flower showers.

“You’re just as ridiculously charming as always, Y/N,” he teases you softly, the corners of his mouth twitching into a soft smile as he relishes the blush creeping up your jubilant cheeks.

You giggle softly before clearing your throat. “As I was saying,” you reiterate, placing your free hand back on his arm. “What kind of wedding present are you getting for the happy couple?”

“I must confess,” Vergil starts as you both pause at a corner of a street. “I am…uncertain of what is expected from me in regard to a proper gift,” he admits as his eyes check both sides of the road before leading you across the street.

“I can help you with that!” you declare with a vibrant grin.

Vergil gives you a grateful smile. “Any assistance you can offer is greatly appreciated, Y/N.”

Both of you brainstorm about what kind of wedding gift is suitable for a father to give his son for the rest of the walk. You list off a bunch of ideas while Vergil listens, nodding his head in approval at some of your suggestions while pondering why weddings have so many complicated customs. However, none of the suggested gifts resonate with him, so you go about it from a different angle. You steer the conversation towards his own interests, explaining that maybe Nero would appreciate a gift that brings his father joy and experience it together.

My lovely rose, you are not only beautiful, but utterly brilliant as well, Vergil mentally praises you as he gazes down at you warmly. He lists off a few of his interests, some you already know about it, but he goes into more detail about why he enjoys them. You grow quiet and stare up at him, tilting your head in thought as you listen attentively to his every word. Your eyes light up when he talks about his prowess in the world of music, absolutely gaping up at him as he mentions his preferred instrument.

“You have got to be plucking my petal! You play the violin?”

Vergil smirks at your astonished outburst. “I’m quite the accomplished violinist if I do say so myself,” he claims proudly just as he rounds the corner of your street. A contemplative silence is the only answer he receives from you as he leads you towards your very welcoming home. He looks over to see you chewing your lower lip, lost in your own thoughts as your free hand twirls the end of your intricately braided hair.

“Y/N?” he calls out softly as you both walk up your driveway. “Are you well?”

“Yeah!” You blink your eyes a couple of times as you look around and realize where you are. “Just thinking,” you trail off before flashing him a speculative smile. “Does the power of Sparda include the talent for musical performance?”

Vergil quirks an eyebrow at your curious question. “It just so happens that it does.” He ponders for a moment before the meaning behind your question truly sinks in. “Are you suggesting-”

“A violin performance!” you finish, shaking his arm in excitement as you pause in front of your porch. “A stirring violin solo for Nero and Kyrie on their special day!”

“Hmm…it’s an intriguing idea,” Vergil hums, brow furrowing in thought as he goes over the merits of such a gift. A violin performance does not align itself with the usual choice of wedding gifts, but it most certainly would be very memorable. It would also be a genuine gift from a father to his son, sharing a part of himself that no one has seen for many years. There is only one obstacle that stands in the way of this gift coming to fruition though.

“Unfortunately, the ever-present inconvenience known as my boorish brother does not make the shop the best place for practice,” he bemoans while rolling his eyes in irritation.

“You can borrow my music room if you want,” you propose sweetly.

Vergil’s eyes snap over to you, unsure that he heard you correctly. “Did you say…music room?”

“Yeah!” you confirm with a nod of your head. “C’mon,” you pull on his arm, gently coaxing him to follow you up the porch. “I’ll show you!”

“Well, this is certainly a surprise,” Vergil wonders aloud as you lead him through the front door of your home. “I did not know that you’re a musician as well.”

“I’m not really a musician,” you explain, putting down your purse and straightening your pink floral dress. “Not anymore at least,” you add wistfully as while making your way towards a set of stairs.

Your sudden change of tone does not go unnoticed by Vergil as he follows close behind. Ever since this friendship between you two has blossomed, he has only ever seen you sad once…when you shared your complicated family history. And now, as he climbs up the stairs, he surmises that this music room must have been your mother’s when both of you lived here. An awful stinging sensation starts to prickle in his chest, not enjoying the fact that he may see you wracked with melancholy again.

Both of you pass by a couple doors before stopping in front of one at the end of the upstairs hall. “And here we are!” you announce in a more chipper tone as you turn the knob and open the door.

The strong scent of dust assaults Vergil’s nose as he steps through the threshold. It is very reminiscent of the stale musty scent of old books wafting through the air of a foregone library. But as he surveys the room, he notes that instead of books, there are shelves and racks full of various instruments and musical accoutrements. And in one corner of the room sits an impressive grand piano, which has escaped the wrath of the dust by being covered with a big piece of white cloth.

“Sorry about the mess!” you fret softly, rushing over a particularly display case. “No matter how many times I dust…!” You take a deep breath and blow a heavy coating of dust off the glass, showing an array of unique instruments inside.

“I take it that all of this is…?” Vergil’s question trails off as his eyes motion towards the entirety of the room.

“My mother was also quite the accomplished musician,” you reveal while turning around to face him. “And she played…well, everything!” you laugh while stretching your arms out wide for emphasis. “This is her instrument collection.” You gesture towards the glass display cases behind you. “And this over here,” you walk across the room and pause in front of a couple of bookshelves, “is where all the sheet music is stored. There’s even some of my mother’s own music that she composed herself!” you announce proudly while pointing to a few folders abundant with pages of staff paper.

Vergil steps over to the shelf and examines the various selection of sheet music. “This is a very impressive collection,” he marvels. “May I?” He reaches for the folders that you indicated as your mother’s original work. You smile and give him an eager nod, which knocks your flower crown slightly askew. This, however, does not diminish your beauty; in fact, it just makes you even more lovely in his eyes. He finds himself subtly admiring you from the corner of his eye as he pulls out the proper folder and begins studying the a few pages filled with ingenious music.

Your smile turns into a pensive grin as you glance around the room quietly beside him. You hum quietly when something catches your eye in the corner of the room opposite of the piano. “This is where I practiced my breathing techniques,” you murmur, more to yourself than to him, as you wander over to a small chair and table with a candlestick atop its surface. “I tried so hard to not the snuff out the candle while I sang.”

“Now I know why your singing is always so impeccably in tune,” Vergil remarks without looking up from the sheet music. He sees your head snap over towards him in his peripheral vision, eyes wide in surprise as your cheeks turn wonderfully rosy. His lips curl into a cocky grin as he closes the folder and places it back to its proper place on the shelf. He turns his gaze over to the covered piano and raises an inquisitive brow at you. “Do you know how to play?” he asks, finally relenting to the genuine curiosity that has been building up inside him since walking into this room.

“My grandmother taught me when I lived with her,” you answer softly as you go over to the piano and grab one end of the cloth covering it. You swiftly pull it off in one motion and uncover a spectacularly crafted grand piano. The varnish of its black silken surface shines brightly as you clap your hands free of dust before propping the lid up. The stunning visual of dragonflies buzzing around colorful flowers is painted on the inner side of the lid, a hidden display of rustic beauty among all the elegant majesty.

You pull out the stool and sit down in front of the keyboard. “Hmm,” you ponder aloud as your hands take up position atop the black and white keys. “It probably needs to be tuned, but…” Your voice fades away as you begin to play the piano.

Vergil is transfixed on the spot as you fill the room with a sincerely charming melody. The song is a pleasant piece called To a Wild Rose if memory serves him right, but it is not what has him so captivated as he listens to your impromptu performance. He cannot help but to compare you to a flower blowing softly in a spring breeze as you sway gently in time with the tune. And every time you close your eyes when the music starts swelling up with emotion he feels utterly entranced like a bee to a bloom, drawing ever closer to his lovely rose as you continue to serenade him with delightful music.

Carefully, he treads across the room to stand beside you, making sure that his presence does not break your concentration as you continue to play. He takes the time to admire the lovely profile of your face as your fingers glide gracefully across the keys, adoring the subtle twitch of your lips as they curl into a tender smile at every musical refrain. But upon closer inspection his keen eyes detect a certain sadness within that warm smile. The pin prickling sensation that always arises within his chest at the mere thought of you being unhappy flares up again as you play the song to its conclusion.

The final notes of the song echo in the room as your eyes crack open and begin searching for him, looking a bit perplexed until you glance over to your side. “Hoppin’ hyssop!” you gasp, jumping in your seat a little as you clutch your chest in relief.

Vergil smirks as you huff indignantly at him, still so amused by your flowery exclamations every time he manages to startle you with his sudden appearances. But your annoyed expression soon melts away as he continues to hold your gaze. His mind begins to shuffle through many different possibilities, wondering what words he can say that will grace him with that radiant smile once more.

“Flower for your thoughts?”

He tilts his head at the sound of your endearing question. “You play so beautifully,” he declares, enjoying the way your face flushes at his compliment as he bends down to take a seat on the piano stool. “And yet there was an air of melancholy around you while playing such a delightful song.”

You wince at his words and quickly glance away to stare down at the keyboard as he settles in beside you. Good going, you dunce, Vergil sarcastically rebukes himself. At this rate, you will assuredly win her over with this frank conversation. He flounders for a moment, trying to figure out how to salvage this blundering exchange, but your soft affirmation stops him short.

“I know,” you sigh, “it’s just…” you pause for a moment, hands wringing the end of your braid as you bite your lower lip. “This room is like bittersweet vines growing in a berry bush.”

Vergil’s brow furrows in confusion at your words. You look up from the keyboard and giggle softly when you see him arch an eyebrow, silently asking you to elaborate on your odd berry analogy. “No matter how hard I try to only pick the sweetest berries from the bush,” you begin explaining while leaning your head to rest against his shoulder. “I still end up eating a few bittersweet ones.”

It grows quiet between the two of you as Vergil makes sense of your words, turning them over and over in his head. He finds it hard to focus though with you nuzzling up against his arm, which summons a strange fluttering feeling in his stomach. But despite the pleasant distraction he somehow manages to understand your words, and it strikes a chord deep within him.

Even though you have moved on to live a better life…the past still comes back to haunt you ever now and then. He knows this feeling very well since he is guilty of brooding on occasion. The prickling in his chest squeezes around his heart as thoughts of his mother come unbidden to the forefront of his mind. Unfortunately, this always brings back memories of the pain he had to endure over the years since that dreadful day, along with the incessant urge to get away from these unpleasant recollections.

Vergil wraps his arm around your shoulders and pulls you closer to him, seeking the solace he currently craves while hopefully bringing you comfort as well. “If it’s too much trouble,” he whispers close by your ear, “I can find somewhere else to-”

“No!” You shake your head gently and gaze up at him with beseeching eyes. “You need a place to practice!” Your face softens as a reassuring grin enhances the rosy hue of your cheeks. “And I think it will be good for me to hear music in this room again.”

Vergil regards you curiously. “And why is that?”

“Even bittersweet berries can lose their acidity with enough sugar.”

And with that small bit of gardening wisdom you finally grace him with the radiant smile that always puts him under your dazzling spell. His lips curve into a warm smile as he lifts his other hand and straightens your flower crown. “Perhaps we can practice together?” he suggests softly.

“Oh, no!” you blurt out while bowing your head down bashfully. “I’m horribly out of practice and I would just slow you down.”

“Nonsense,” he scoffs as his hand gently lifts your chin and beholds your wondrous gaze as his thumb softly strokes your cheek. “It would be an honor to play the violin while you play a piano accompaniment.”

Vergil can practically feel the heat emanating from your blush as it rushes through your cheeks. “Umm, well,” you mumble quietly, “when you put that way…” You give him a gracious smile and a slight nod of your head. “How could I refuse a such an earnest request from such a strikingly handsome devil?”

The melancholic mood hanging in the air completely dissipates and the prickling in his chest releases its grip to make way for the pleasant warmth now flooding through his entire body. He hums and gives you a pleased grin before sighing softly. “I must take my leave soon,” he informs you, which makes your lower lip poke out in a disappointed pout. “But what do you say,” he continues while withdrawing from your personal space, “to a stroll in the garden before I depart?”

“Ooh!” Your pout instantly disappears as you playfully gasp in surprise. “You know it’s pretty rare for me to amble though the flowers at night nowadays!”

“Yes,” he grumbles lowly as his brow furrows in irritation while the memory of the Fury demon attacking you in your garden flashes before his eyes. “At least…not without me as your escort,” he tacks on as an afterthought, hoping that you understand that he only wants to protect you from another horde of demons should they show up after nightfall.

Your eyes soften as you reach up to take his hand, which is still holding your chin. “I know, Vergil.” You stare deeply into his eyes for a moment before flashing a bright smile. “Well, c’mon!” you exclaim excitedly, shooting out of your seat and pulling him around the piano by the hand. “Let’s go!”

Vergil follows you out of the music room, down the stairs, and through the hall into your kitchen. You open the back door and lead him through its threshold, instantly transporting him into another world filled with wonderous blooms. He takes in the pleasant perfume of your garden as you wrap your arm around his elbow. Both of you walk among the flowers nurtured by your own hand, enjoying each other’s company in comfortable silence as twilight settles over the sky.

Even though is quiet between the two of you, Vergil’s mind is a torrent of activity, going back to the matter of asking you to be his “plus one” to the wedding. This stroll through the garden is the perfect opportunity to bring it up, but he is still struggling with the proper words. As he guides you down a more secluded path of your garden, an impressive section of flowers catches his eye. Their delicately layered petals closely resemble a rose, but upon closer inspection he recognizes them to be camellias.

Vergil’s mind immediately stops whirling as he focuses on their meaning. His feet move of their own accord towards the romantic flowers while he draws out a plan inside his head. You look up at him inquisitively as he guides you off the path. “Straying away for a closer look?” you inquire sweetly.

“Yes,” he replies, determination flowing through him as he marches on until coming to a halt in front of the beautiful blooms. “I presume you know about the heart of the camellia?” he questions while peering down at you for confirmation. “How the petals and the…” His mind comes to a blank as he tries to recall the correct term for the leafy part of the stem.

“Calyx,” you inform quietly, nodding your head gently as your eyes gleam with interest.

Vergil hums in appreciation before releasing your arm. “They never separate from each other,” he begins to explain, bending down to pick a pink camellia, the marvelous flower of longing. “Even after death…the petals don’t fall off first like many other flowers,” he continues as his hand moves over and plucks a red camellia, the vibrant flower of passion and deep desire. “They’re always…” He stands back up and turns to face you once more with both flowers in hand.

As he takes a step up get closer to you, Vergil notes how the asters of your flower crown sparkle like stars in the waning light of twilight. His eyes never stray from your tender gaze as he reaches for your hand, and places it on top of his other hand holding the camellias. “Together,” he finishes softly, stroking your hand gently as he relishes the crimson blush spreading across your face, which can only mean that you understand what he is trying to say:

My heart yearns for you with a fiery passion every moment we are apart.

“Y/N, my lovely rose,” he utters the term of endearment he refers to you in the privacy of his mind aloud for the first. You gasp quietly as his body presses even closer to you and gazes upon your stunning visage with heavy lidded eyes, adoring the way your blushing cheeks glow in the fast approaching night. “Would you do me the honor of being my date to the wedding?”

Your eyes widen as his heartfelt request hangs in the air unanswered. But Vergil’s able to pinpoint the exact moment you comprehend his question as the light in your brilliant eyes shifts from uncertainty to elation. “Yes!” you burst out with a joyous smile. Your arms wrap around his neck as you jump up on the balls of your feet, pulling him into your tight embrace as you squeal in delight by his ear. “Yes, of course I’ll be your date to the wedding!”

Vergil stands there dumbfound for a moment, still getting used to this kind of close contact, but then he remembers to encircle your waist with his arms. He places the hand still holding the camellias in between your shoulders and the other rests on the small of your back. His head starts to spin as the fragrance of flowers along with your own intoxicating scent ensnares his senses and lulls him into a fervent stupor.

You shift your head back to stare up at him with a radiant smile, which only seems to set that warm feeling pooling in his belly ablaze. He bends his head down and just before he can even fathom what he is doing…his lips press a tender kiss between your brow. His ears pick up a low gasp from you, and he fears for a moment that this gentle gesture is unwanted. But when you let out a sigh of delight and slide your arms from around his neck down to rest against his chest, all tension leaves his body as he lets all his worries go and just basks in this intimate moment between you, him, and the lovely flowers.

It feels like an entire lifetime has passed until Vergil finally moves away, already missing the feel of your silken skin against his lips the second they leave your brow. He glances down and notices that your eyes are closed, so he rests his head against your forehead and hums softly before he speaks. “It’s getting late,” he murmurs, watching closely as your eyes flutter open and gift him with the sight of your adoring gaze. “I must take my leave now.”

A tiny sliver of sadness twinkles in your eye as your mouth twists into a forlorn frown. “I wish twilight would last just a little bit longer,” you grumble, pressing yourself deeper into his embrace as your hands cling to his shirt.

Vergil chuckles softly at your adorable show of stubbornness while he removes his hand from the small of your back to cup your cheek. Your face is so close his now…he can feel your every breath against his lips. It grows incredible quiet as something shifts in the air, the tenderness from a moment ago now replaced with something more intense. He wants to admit to you that he also abhors leaving your side day after day, but it seems his mind is struggling to find the proper words. So, he does what he has always done in the past: recite a poem that perfectly captures this heady moment:

Wild nights - Wild nights!

Where I with thee

Wild nights should be

Our luxury!

Futile - the winds -

To a Heart in port -

Done with the Compass -

Done with the Chart!

Rowing in Eden -

Ah - the Sea!

Might I but moor - tonight -

In thee!

When his recitation ends, he nuzzles his face even closer to yours, feeling you take several shaky breaths as he tenderly brushes his thumb across your cheek. Even though there is not much light outside his keen eyes can still detect the endearing blush upon your lovely face, reminding him more and more of the camellias at his feet. He can also see your eyes glowing with unrestrained ardor and once again he feels himself getting pulled closer and closer…

Vergil turns his head slightly and presses a soft kiss just above the corner of your lips. You whimper softly and clutch onto his shirt tighter, which only stirs the flames of desire as he withdraws, enjoying the satisfaction that comes with coaxing that exquisite sound from you. “I shall escort you back to you home now,” he declares softly while taking a step back and offering his arm to you.

“Huh?” You shake your head and blink your eyes a couple times before fully registering his words. You glare at him cutely as you take his arm and Vergil just smiles smugly in return before leading you back to your house through the garden. When both of you arrive at the backdoor of your home, you pout and sigh sadly as you glance up at him with doleful eyes. “Well…here we are,” you state the obvious as you continue to cling to his arm. “I guess I’ll see you soon?” you ask with a hopeful smirk.

Vergil hums in amusement before freeing himself from your vice grip on his arm. He gently takes both of your hands and places a kiss atop both of your knuckles before responding. “Until we meet again, my lovely rose.”

You grant him one last radiant smile before heading into your house, but then you turn around and peek your head out through the door. “Until then…Vergil,” you murmur back with an impish grin as you slowly reach out and take the pink camellia from his grasp. Your delicate fingers caress the inside of his palm before retreating to your side, giving him one last longing look before closing the door.

A dreamy smile sneaks onto Vergil’s face as he exits your garden through the back gate, not bothering with summoning the Yamato and opening a portal back to the shop. Instead, he strolls down several streets, feeling like the luckiest devil in the world while the day’s events play in his mind like a movie. The entertaining dinner with the rest of the crew, the discovery of your music room, the passionate moment by the camellias…he is still flying high from the fact that you wholeheartedly agreed to be his date to the wedding!

When he finally arrives at his destination, he completely forgets to reign in his dreamlike state as he opens the door and enters the shop. He is vaguely aware of Dante sitting behind his desk, gawking at him like an oafish buffoon as he drifts past the desk and up the stairs without so much as a greeting. His mind is too occupied with thoughts of your radiant smile, your welcoming embrace, and that lovely sound you uttered when he nearly kissed your lips.

As Vergil enters his room, he wonders if he could talk you into performing with him at the wedding. And if he is successful…he hums at his own clever idea since that would mean even more time spent with his lovely rose. He brings the red camellia up to his nose for a sniff, feeling excited by what may blossom from his more amorous advances in the future. And as he stores the desirous bloom with the growing pile of gifted flowers, he muses that you are like its delicately layered petals and he is like the protective calyx underneath them.

And both are bound together by the heart of the camellia.

Read Part 8 (Ch.1) right here

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incoherentbabblings · 4 years

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An Endless Hope (6/9)

After a horrendous blizzard falls over Gotham, Tim undergoes a sharp change in character before disappearing. Upon discovering what has become of him, Stephanie sets off on a solo journey in a magic realm to bring him home, meeting some faces who seem awfully familiar along the way.

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It was on the sixth time that Tim tried to leave her palace that the witch grew frustrated. Gripping his bare arm, she pulled him physically back into her throne room and up the stairs. She pushed him down on her throne, where he belonged, and tried one last time to make him see reason. She saw as the large sculpture melted slightly under his body temperature – colder than what any human was designed to survive certainly – but still warm enough to melt ice.

Her frustration mounted as she watched his eyes, nearly all soft blue leached from his irises, drift to the exit, and not at her. She gripped his chin and tilted it up to force him to look at her. He did, but it was obvious from his expression it wasn’t willingly.

“Why do you want to leave?” She asked, voice akin to a chiming bell. Tim supposed it could be nice to listen to, but he wasn’t really paying attention.

It took a long time for Tim to answer. His eyes once again drifted away, back towards the exit. Hypothermia caused confusion in humans, she knew this, but still, it made conversations frustratingly slow.

“Why do you want to leave?” She repeated. There was no anger in her voice, just a gentle curiosity.

Tim’s lip twisted, and he curled up into himself. It made a bizarre sight – a young man in just a t-shirt, jeans, and casual sneakers sat on a throne in an ice palace. The lady who had taken him ran a hand through his lovely black hair. She was wearing so many crystals and diamonds she hurt to look at, and her crown was white as her hair, eyes and skin. Tim assumed she was beautiful, though again, he couldn’t really bring himself to care.

“I’m bored and cold.” He finally answered. “I want to leave so I can get warm.”

“You can’t leave Tim. Your heart is frozen. If you go somewhere warmer, you’ll die. Being here with me is the only thing keeping you alive.”

He blinked uncomprehendingly at her.

“Why?”

“Because I want you here with me.”

That did nothing to abate Tim’s confusion and again, he asked, “Why?”

“I thought you might be different. I adore humans so… You are all so lovely, but you’re all so soft.” She brushed his cheek and for once he didn’t shiver, so cold was his skin that the temperature difference made no impact. “I try and pick one up, to keep me company, but their hearts can’t stand it, and they die from grief, from the cold, from loneliness… their hearts break. So, I freeze them, to try and keep them with me. I saw what you’ve been through, who you are, and thought you might survive. So, you can stay young, and handsome...”

Tim wasn’t really listening to her quiet explanation. Somewhere distantly it was registering amongst dozens of other informational sparks – he was cold, he was somewhere he had never been before, the lady’s face kept shifting in shape to women he felt he should recognize but didn’t, he knew how to get warm, he knew… he once knew… he couldn’t remember.

“I followed you because I was bored.” He said, looking her straight in the eye. Vaguely, he recognized he had interrupted her. “And I’m still bored.”

She smiled, but there was no joy to be found. “Of course, you are. I see how clever you are. It’s wasted in that city.”

Tim felt like that was a sentiment shared by many except himself. He wasn’t wasted in Gotham. He had many reasons to stay. Even if he couldn’t remember any of them.

No. Some things he could recall. No names, no faces, but he remembered and yearned. Hair like the sun and spun like gold. A songbird and a flower. Warm hands. A heartbeat. A kiss.

He frowned at the witch.

“You took me from my warmth. I want to go back. I want it back.”

“Your warmth?” She chuckled. They had had this conversation six times at this point. Her smugness at the boy’s inability to escape the magic which held him here was only accompanied by a frustration that she couldn’t completely make him forget. Gently mocking, she breathed on him, ice forming in his hair. “Your love. The blonde girl? Do you even remember her name?”

Tim did not. He was not even aware that those memories related to another person.

“She will not come, Tim. No human can.”

Somewhere, like an instinct, Tim wanted to correct her. Somehow, he felt like the blonde girl could and would reach him, though he couldn’t remember why he wanted her so badly.

He got up to push back, but before he could, the tall witch pressed a kiss to his forehead. Tim gasped like she had sucked the air out of his lungs and fell back, limp and pale as a dead body, against the throne. He stared at his shoes, mind and voice silent, matching the quiet of the room. So quiet in fact, he could hear his very slow heartbeat in his ears.

“I’m bored.” He said finally, and his pale, empty eyes looked back at the exit. “And cold.”

Finally, the witch looked angry. She had pushed her magic to its limit, one more kiss and he would die, but no matter what she did, he wanted to return home. To the silly blonde girl who was neither his superior nor even equal. She hissed at the thought of him being another wasted experiment. Sneering, she leant forward, blocking Tim’s view from anything else. Spite flowed through her, and she decided to let the boy learn the hard way that he couldn’t go home. Even if it took a hundred years – and time passed so oddly here – for the message to make an impact in his cold frigid head, he’d learn to want nothing else but her time and attention. He’d forget his little thrumming heart and her hot tears and sunlight hair. She was nothing, not compared to the witch.

“You want to leave?” She smirked as Tim nodded. She ran her thumb over his lower lip, noting their blue colour. “You can leave when you finish a puzzle. If you quit, you must stay with me. How’s that sound, Tim?”

Stephanie tucked her hands into the muff she had been given. The princess had restored and cleaned her gloves, but there was something comforting about the muff keeping the tips of her fingers warm. The fur was thick, soft, and long. It felt good to play with. She had pulled the thick heavy hood up over her head, which reminded her of a sturdier version of her Spoiler cloak, and blinked heavily.

Somehow the horses knew where to go in the never-ending forest. Whenever Stephanie felt they were going off track, only a couple of minutes later they would redirect. It seemed to Stephanie they were taking her along the safest path.

Half a day passed, and she nibbled on some cheese and bread she had been gifted once sure enough that she was indeed out of the princess’ realm. She fell asleep in the carriage, exhausted from the past day’s events. She did not dream.

The screeching of the horses woke her up, as did the violent rocking of the carriage. It was dark out, but there was light in the form of torches. Stephanie, still bleary with sleep, peered out the window.

With a shock that promptly woke her up, a knife was thrust through the frame. She squeaked, throwing herself back against the seat as the knife narrowly missed her nose.

“Take the horses and anything she’s carrying! Even the clothes on her back!” Someone cried out. She heard the horses continue to shriek, kicking and bucking, and realised that she was being – for a lack of a better term – mugged.

“Oh finally!” She gasped. “Punching time!”

Stephanie kicked the side door open and jumped onto the nearest bandit, clambering onto their shoulders, and spinning, twisting the man off his feet. She rolled forward, fully prepared to fight off whomever would dare.

She did very well for herself, considering she was in a dress and fighting half blind in the dark. She counted eight men and woman, and had managed to knock five of them down semi-permanently when one – a giant hulking shadow of a man – managed to wrap his hand around her braided hair (Bruce had said she should have cut it he told her) and threw her on the ground. Next thing she knew, there was a knife at her throat. She did not miss that it was red with dried blood. She hoped it was not people blood, but staring into the grey eyes of the man, she knew it was a foolish hope.

“A little lamb you are not.” He muttered, voice quiet and flat. Stephanie kicked and thrashed, but it was no good. She felt him press the knife down against her neck and she gasped. Panicking, the sound of her skin slicing open in a shallow long cut made the blood rush to her face.

Abruptly, the man grunted with pain and flinched back. Stephanie saw as a little boy, no more than ten, bit the ear of the man.

“Brat!” He grunted, getting up and spinning. The little boy hung off him like a remora clinging to a shark. Stephanie sat up, feeling the wound on her neck. It was not deep, but still, she could feel the warm blood trickling down and staining her dress and cloak. She looked over to the horses to see they remained, waiting for her to get back in the carriage. Somehow, they hadn’t bolted in the confusion. The idea of mounting one and riding, even bareback, seemed like the best option

She watched the little boy and the man (who Stephanie very quickly learnt was the boy’s father), argue and bite each other.

Nothing for it, Stephanie mused, time to run again.

Getting up slowly, she tried to go round the back of the carriage and make a break for it, but alas, it was not to be. The little boy flung himself at her and, in her shock, she instinctively caught him and pulled him up into a piggyback. She regretted the reflex immediately, as the little boy grabbed her cheeks and made her turn around to look at the boy’s father. The father had a heavy brow and black hair, face twisted in a permanent frown. There was no softness or warmth to be found in his face, body or posture. The little boy on her back however, was wiry and thin, and his body temperature was hotter than any human she’d ever met.

“I want her!” The boy demanded. “A human here? Father I must keep her. She shall play with me and give me that fur muff and sleep with me in my bed.”

He said it all very certainly, like Stephanie was a willing participant to becoming the boy’s little pet cat. Writhing, she tried to hurl the boy off her back, only to be picked up by the father and tossed unceremoniously back in the carriage.

Great. Another diversion.

“I want to ride in the carriage too!” Declared the little boy, hopping in next to Stephanie. He tugged her upright, so she was sitting once more, and the carriage took off, heading in the wrong direction.

“No, no! Listen, you need to let me go—”

“My father and my friends will not kill you unless I want them to.”

Stephanie snapped her mouth shut, taken aback by the bluntness with which the little boy spoke. He was a tiny thing, with a button nose and a pouty mouth. He had darker skin than her, and greener eyes. He was kind of adorable, in a brattish, pouty way. He wrapped his arms around her neck, which was slowly stopping its bleeding.

“They think you’re a princess, to be wearing such nice clothes and riding such a nice carriage.”

“I am absolutely not a princess.”

He looked a little sad that she had popped his bubble so easily, then he snuggled into her warm coat. Not really understanding why, she reached up and rested a hand on his outward facing cheek. She lowered her tone, trying to sound reasonable.

“Can you let me and one horse go? I don’t have anything valuable on me. I’m travelling north. Another human was taken, and I am trying to find him so we can go home. I’ll walk even if you want both horses.”

“You’re staying with me.”

“I know you want that, but I won’t be of much use to you.”

The little boy leaned back, pout growing to anger, and tugged out a knife from his belt. Before Stephanie could react, he laid back down on her again, this time the knife pointing inwards, where one of her ovaries was located. Stephanie gulped, wincing at the pain in her neck, then sighed resignedly. She’d have to try and escape whenever they reached their destination. Hopefully it wasn’t a fortress.

When they did grow close, Stephanie noted that the forest had given way. Finally the endless trees had opened up to rolling fields of grass. It was not thick warm green grass though, the kind you expected to find in the lush countryside, but more akin to heather and lichen. Heathland, Stephanie distantly realised.

Another knife greeted her when the door opened, and the little boy pulled her out of the carriage.

The robber’s home was a hamlet. Brown and grey stone buildings all built around a large fire pit which protected them from the cold wind which blustered around. The bonfire was huge, and it stank of smoke and cooked meats. Unhelpfully, Stephanie’s stomach grumbled. Pushing her over to a mound of furs and cushions next to an enclosed space filled with horses and what looked like a reindeer, the little boy shoved her down. He then clambered on her outstretched legs and tugged her two arms to wrap around him in a hug. Stephanie sighed sadly.

She watched as her carriage was broken up and added to the fire, and her horses were led into the stable next to her. They were immediately fed and brushed, so Stephanie relaxed a little. It seemed animals weren’t going to be harmed and judging by the small pile of content snoozing dogs and cats in another corner, it was unlikely they ever would be. For all their threats of stabbing, she wasn’t dead, and watching the people interact, it seemed like a boisterous bunch. They drank and ate and partied, but Stephanie and the little boy remained in the corner. She didn’t see any other children present, and the pair were ignored consistently as the night went on.

As the hours passed, she felt him press back against her, falling asleep himself. Stephanie looked at the groups of people sat on benches, laughing and enjoying the revelry. When there was sudden shouting or movement, reflexively, Stephanie tightened her arms around the little boy, as if to shield him from it.

“Where’s your mother?” She whispered, only half to the little boy, not expecting him to answer.

“Gone. She thought I was better off here and not with her.” He murmured. Watching the boy’s violent father get into a drunken fight with another man, Stephanie was not sure she agreed.

She looked down at the boy, and unhelpfully her thoughts drifted to her own child. Her baby girl. She would be five years old. Melancholy returned to Stephanie, and she sagged under the weight of it. It was not that Stephanie regretted her choice of a closed adoption, she just hoped her next try would be... Less ill timed and with a better partner. She felt bad for her daughter, who in all manner of ways deserved better than a biological mother like Stephanie. A child should be wanted and loved. Stephanie would have tried, of course she would have, but deep down she knew, she would not have been good enough for that little girl. Not at aged fifteen.

She wondered what Tim’s children would look and behave like. She wilted, condemning herself for even considering such a thought. And yet... She wanted it.

If she did ever have children with Tim, a very bitter part of her hoped her daughter never ran across her with them. She could only imagine the potential trauma of such a sight.

You weren’t good enough to keep.

The little boy seemed to sense her melancholy and pulled at her arms. “Come meet my animals.”

Feeling sorry for the little boy and wanting a distraction from her traitorous thoughts, she did as bid. She picked him up, which seemed to delight him, and he directed her around the area. He pointed out a dove cot on the outskirts of the stone buildings.

“They are all mine. A few of them need tying down, else they would fly away and leave me.” He pointed elsewhere, at the snoozing pile of dogs. Stephanie walked over with him still in her arms, and he wriggled down to wake a large black dog. The poor dog looked sad to be awoken, but the little boy was insistent Stephanie meet each of his pets.

“I was gifted him when I was born. He is an old dog now, all he does is sleep and eat. Go on Modig, say hello!”

If Stephanie was expecting the dog to actually speak, she was disappointed. The dog gave a curious sniff, no doubt noting she did not smell like anything else in this realm, then licked her hand. She giggled a little at the sensation, then patted his giant head. The little boy in turn was openly delighted.

“…And this,” he dragged her back to the stables, to the horses and reindeer, “is Abie. He is a sweetheart, but he would leave too if untied. So, I tickle his neck sometimes with my knife. Just so he remembers.”

He looked at Stephanie, who watched the animal buck a little when the boy got close. The boy frowned, seeing that she was upset at the thought of the animal being harmed. He was still holding onto his knife, so he huffed and tugged Stephanie back onto the pile of furs. She groaned as they collapsed in the pile. Her neck ached.

“Do you always sleep with a knife in your hand?” Stephanie whispered, noting it was pressed between them, tip near her sternum.

“You never know who is out here.” He said simply. He remained awake until his family went to bed, his father not once coming over to check on him. The fire continued to burn long after the party had ended, keeping the cold at bay.

The silence endured for only a moment, whilst Stephanie tried to think of a way out.

“Tell me a story.” The boy demanded, eyes screwed shut.

“About what?”

“You. How you came to be here.”

Stephanie swallowed dryly and told her story. She continued to keep her and Tim’s names off her lips, not sure who else was listening. Again, as if on instinct, she repeatedly passed a hand through the boy’s dark hair, watching his eyes flutter shut, and his breathing deepen and slow.

When she was sure the little boy was asleep, there was a feeling in the air that dawn would soon break. The little boy had gone limp in his slumber, limp enough for Stephanie to extract herself from their bed, and crawl over to the reindeer and horses. She reached around, trying to untie one of her white horses, when a fussing noise made her look up.

Sat on one of the beams of the stable was a chubby wood pigeon with a puffed up chest, brooding down at her.

“I heard your story. I saw the witch a few weeks ago, before I was caught. You are not far from her palace. Two days ride. It is all snow and ice from here on out.”

Raw hope rose, and an idea sprung forward in Stephanie’s mind. She looked back at the reindeer, who was watching her mournfully. He chuffed softly when Stephanie caught his eye. She reached out, letting him nuzzle her hand.

“Do you want to leave?” She whispered. “Do you want to go home back north?”

The reindeer shook its great head, almost nodding.

“Can you take me to her palace? Just get me there, I can worry about coming back. You can be free then in the cold if you like.”

Coming back. The thought had not even crossed her mind before this point. She was so close to her goal, what was she supposed to do when she rescued Tim?

If she rescued Tim.

The reindeer pushed at her shoulder, warm breath blowing loose strands of hair off her face. He put his great head down further, allowing her easier access to the rope that held him against his will.

She exhaled with relief, then after briefly checking behind her, reached up to undo the knots.

“A little bit more time Tim,” Stephanie sighed, “Please just a little more time.”

The tip of a knife pressed against her neck, and the reindeer became skittish in fear. She froze, then slowly lowered her hands. She didn’t need another wound in her neck.

“You cannot leave.”

It was the little boy, awake and upset. Stephanie turned to face him. There was no anger in his eyes, just sadness. She took a risk and reached up, taking the knife out of his hand and setting it down on the hay covered floor.

She cradled the little boy’s face, ruddy and sweet.

“I have a job to do. I need to do it. I want to do it. Can you let me leave?”

The boy sniffed, a fat tear running down his face. “I want you to stay.”

“I know.” Brushing the tear away, she smiled, trying to be reassuring. She felt almost like a mother abandoning her child, as irrational as it sounded. He must have been quite lonely, with only his animals to keep him company with such a rough family. “I’m sorry. But I can’t stay. I don’t belong in this world. And neither does my love. We have to go home.”

The little boys face crumpled, and Stephanie’s heart jerked. He reminded her too much of Damian. The bluster and loneliness, the desire for approval and difficult parents. She wondered what she would say to Damian, if it were him in front of her. What would she say to the other boy who had threatened to stab her several times over the course of a night?

“Listen, believe me. I think you’re a very good boy. Please stay that way. And here, please keep this.” She said, handing over her little muff. “To remember me.”

The boy snatched it and buried his hands inside. He sniffed, then insisted, “Take my knife. And take good care of Abie.”

“I promise.”

He helped her untie Abie, and in a show of gratitude, she kissed his forehead. The boy’s face turned redder from embarrassment, and he helped her onto the reindeer. There was no saddle, so it would not be a comfortable ride, however the snow and ice was where the reindeer belonged. He could take her further than any horse.

The little boy gripped the antlers of the reindeer and shook his head, uttering a warning.

“I would like very much to keep you both here, but I am being good and letting you go. Put your best hoof forward and carry her to the palace and her playmate. Do not fail me!”

The sun broke the horizon, and the sound of the little boy’s father awakening seemed to panic him. He slapped Abie’s rear, who snorted and set off in a canter.

Stephanie looked back, seeing the boy run after them for a moment, only to stop at the edge of the hamlet, looking entirely too young and small and alone.

Blinking back tears, she cried out a thank you, then turned forward, gripping the dense fur of Abie’s neck as he ran north. Occasionally she’d tug on one side to turn him slightly left or right, still following the yearning in her chest, but otherwise he continued unprompted.

Soon the cool wind became frigid, the heathland became tundra, permafrost, icy then snow. Then the snow deepened. One foot, two feet, six feet… like an endless sea of rolling white. There was no cloud in the sky, and every breath Stephanie gave seemed to hurt, not only the cut in her neck, but also her throat, like it was freezing her lungs going in. When she exhaled, the steam that she blew out was sometimes so thick she would go temporarily blind with it. Her fingertips ached from gripping so tightly to Abie’s fur and from the temperature freezing her skin, but she would be unable to maintain her hold on the galloping reindeer if she let go.

“Don’t suppose you know how to enter the palace do you?” She questioned out loud. Abruptly the reindeer came to a crashing halt, throwing Stephanie forward against his neck with a squeal. It huffed and chuffed, kicking in frustration. Stephanie tightened the grip of her legs, ignoring the ache it caused. “Gosh, what is it? What’s wrong?”

Abie looked back at her, smacking her in the face with his antlers. Stephanie suspected his expression read as incredulous, so she pouted and ranted,

“Oh, come on! I’ve been making this up as I go! I don’t know how to do what I have to do; I just know that I have to do it.”

Abie rolled his eyes, unimpressed. He rotated deliberately, taking them a little bit west, then set off again. Stephanie tugged on his fur and kicked with her legs, but the reindeer seemed determined to take her to a different destination.

“No, come on please! I’m so close. Where are we going? Just over one more day’s ride, right?”

The reindeer bucked, making her shut her mouth, and she risked letting go of one hand to grab her hood and pull it up to protect her ears from the bitter cold.

They ran until midday, when in the distance, nestled in a snow dune, appeared a wooden cabin.

“Who…?”

The reindeer began to make a racket, announcing their arrival to the resident of such an isolated residence. Stephanie heard its occupant before she saw them.

“Oh, my goodness! Who has upset you so! You’d think the world was ending or –”

A decrepit old woman, who was bent in half and covered head to toe in bright red fabric, with glasses so small they seemed little more than pennies on her face thrust the door open. She peered at the sight of a reindeer carrying a girl on its back, looking baffled.

“What? A human? Here?”

Stephanie tried very hard not to roll her eyes.

Great. Another diversion.

#dc #tim drake #stephanie brown #timsteph #my fic tag

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straykidsramblings · 5 years

Text

supermarket flowers. [what if]

seo changbin x fem!reader | alternative ending to supermarket flowers.

word count: 1716 words

genre: fluff, soft angst

summary: angels wear white.

Standing in front of a crowd of people that had all of their eyes on him was not what made Changbin nervous. The people who slowly walked in pairs down the aisle covered in a blanket of snow was not what made Changbin nervous. The quiet pause of the acoustic guitar that caused everyone in the room to stand up like a chain reaction was not what made Changbin nervous.

Felix stood at his left, smiling to himself as he shifted his stance. He nudged his friend’s arm lightly, earning a small jump from the man.

“Cold feet?”

Changbin scoffed, his nerves loosening ever so slightly at the childish provocation. “Never.”

Felix shrugged. “I can always take your place if you get scared.”

“In your dreams.”

The large brown doors standing across from Changbin at the end of the aisle cracked open. In the brilliant white light of the day, Changbin almost thought he had ascended into heaven.

That’s what she made him feel like every time she stepped into a room.

Felix cleared his throat one last time. “If you hurt her...” He didn’t have to finish his sentence.

Changbin couldn’t tear his eyes away from the door that slowly revealed the love of his life.

“I’ll accept any punishment that God sees fit,” Changbin promised, taking a sharp inhale. “Now, be quiet. You’re ruining her moment.”

The doors fully opened themselves, showcasing [name] [last name] in her full beauty, brilliantly dressed in white. In that moment, it was just the two of them. Hyunjin wasn’t by [name]’s side to walk her down the aisle; Felix wasn’t shuffling back to his place next to the other groomsmen. When Changbin finally met [name]’s [eye color] eyes, it felt like the moment when they had first met.

She truly resembled an angel in that moment, then and now.

[name] tried to suppress her smile as she clutched Hyunjin’s arm. As everyone’s eyes landed on her and the women in the crowd tried their best to quietly whisper about her appearance, the music picked up. Changbin felt the tears well in his eyes as he watched her take slow steps towards him.

After all of this time, she was about to become his for the rest of eternity. He was the one who would bring her happiness, the same kind of life-saving happiness that she gave him however many years ago.

The walk was tantalizingly slow, and, even as the hot tears silently cascaded down his cheeks, he couldn’t look away.

Happiness was finally within his grasp, and her name was about to be [name] Seo.

Hyunjin came to a stop before the officiant. Planting a soft kiss on [name]’s cheek, he gave her hand one last reassuring squeeze before walking to his rightful place as best man. The bride handed her [favorite flower] bouquet to her maid of honor, sharing a knowing smile between the two of them.

Changbin extended a hand to her which she graciously accepted. Stepping into her place across from him, [name] smiled softly. She brought her hand to his cheek and wiped away his tears. She may have laughed at him, but her own [eye color] eyes struggled to contain the teardrops of joy that threatened to spill.

Changbin held her hands in his own. Bringing them quickly to his lips, he kissed them softly, not caring about the hushed cooing from the crowd.

“I was made for loving you,” Changbin whispered to her.

In that moment, while she was in his hands, Changbin truly felt that all of the suffering of his life had been worth it.

As long as she was his.

[name] threw her head back as she laughed, squeezing his hands a little tighter. “Vows come later, Bin.”

He smiled back at her before nodding to the officiant to let him proceed.

“Dearly beloved...”

Changbin couldn’t believe his eyes or his ears. The world was disappearing around him, the same way that it did when the two of them first met. Here she was, standing in front him, holding his hands gently, staring at him with beautiful [eye color] eyes soaked with tears.

She truly was the love of his life.

He knew he should’ve been paying more attention, but he couldn’t stop trying to make her laugh. It seemed she knew him too well because she narrowed her eyes at him whenever he began to goof off. The ghost of a smile on her lips betrayed her as she bit her bottom lip. Changbin reciprocated the action, attempting to suppress any giggles of his that might ruin the ceremony. She’d be angry.

“The couple has prepared their own vows,” the officiant announced, glancing between the two. “Shall we begin with the gentleman?”

Changbin cleared his throat. He was about to reach for the notecard with his vow in his pocket, but he decided he didn’t need it. Having [name] standing in front of him in that beautiful white dress reminded him of all the words he needed.

He rubbed the outside of her hands gently with his thumb. A part of it was to reassure himself in front of the crowd that watched him intently. Seeing her reassuring smile was the small push he needed to move forward, and he knew that she would always be there for him.

“My sweet, beautiful angel,” he began. “When you graced me with your presence eight years ago, I honestly did not believe that this day would ever come. Eight years ago, you appeared to me, drowned in the lights of the city, and I sincerely thought I had entered heaven. Eight years ago, you saved a lonely boy who didn’t believe in the love of humanity. Eight years ago, you proved that boy wrong and inspired him to become the man that he is today. [name]... you truly are the reason I am alive today. You gave me love. You gave me hope. You gave me a home. I believe with all of my heart that you are my purpose for this life. I was made for loving you, and I promise to fulfill my duty as your husband for the rest of my life... as long as you’ll have me.”

The smirk on his face and the wink he sent to [name] had the crowd chuckling, and [name] threw her head back in laughter. Even Changbin’s flirtatious humor couldn’t stop two stray tears fall down her cheeks. Looking at the love of his life, Changbin slowly brought his hands to her cheeks, brushing away the tears with his thumbs.

[name] pursed her lips, sniffling before trying to recite her vow. She struggled, sniffling once more as a playful pout decorated her beautiful countenance. She hiccuped, “You’re supposed to be the crybaby out of the two of us.”

The people laughed again, and Changbin laughed with them, remembering all of the times that he had cried during their movie nights and even while just listening to music together. Taking a deep breath, [name] restarted.

“Changbin,” she said with a small laugh. “When we first met, you filled this hole in my heart that I never fully realized I had. The first time we touched, I felt something more than the typical movie sparks. It felt like I had finally come home. I knew, in that moment, that we were destined to be something. You’ve stood beside me through everything since the first day we met, even on days when I thought you would leave me. Now, I face the future, unsure of what it may hold, but confident that we are in this together. Changbin, you truly were nothing less than a gift to me back then, and you are nothing short of a miracle to me right now. I love you with all of my heart, and I promise to keep loving you from here on out now officially as your wife.”

Changbin swallowed the lump that had formed in this throat. “I love you too.”

The following words from the officiant flew over Changbin’s head as he stared deeply into his lover’s eyes. The next thing he registered was a small tug on his suit jacket and the laughter of the crowd. Changbin finally let go of the hands that he was planning on holding onto for the rest of his life.

“The rings, sir,” the officiant snickered.

Changbin grinned, thanking the young ring-bearer for his service as he took the wedding ring he had picked. He ruffled the top of the boy’s hair. “Thanks, bud.”

[name] let out a lighthearted scoff at Changbin’s actions, causing the boy to raise a brow.

“I’m sorry, Mrs. Seo. I was distracted by your beauty.”

[name] held up the ring for Changbin. “I’m not Mrs. Seo just yet,” she teased.

Changbin snickered, his nose wrinkling as a small sign of amusement, but slid the ring on [name]’s finger without another word. [name] mimicked his actions shortly afterwards, sliding the ring up on Changbin’s left hand’s fourth finger. The next words were words that Changbin never wanted to forget.

“By the power vested in me, I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride.”

That was all he needed.

In one fell swoop, he stepped closer to her and captured her lips with his own. The crowd was cheering and clapping, but all that mattered to him was the way that their lips melded together like two were missing pieces of a puzzle that finally found each other.

If he was being honest, every kiss with her was like that.

He loved it.

Finally pulling away to look into her eyes, Changbin whispered under the hooting and hollering of the crowd, “I’ve been dying to do that.”

Expecting a retort, Changbin could only smile when she whispered back, “Me too.”

Filled with joy, Changbin lifted [name] off of her feet, causing both the crowd and the bride to burst out into laughter. [name] threw her arms around his neck, holding onto him as he walked down the white aisle. With the people throwing [favorite flower] petals at the two of them, it truly did seem like too good of a happy ending for Changbin, but he was so grateful.

“She’s all mine!”

#this is like ten years too late oops #for the birthday bby boy binnie #i do like happy endings after all #so this is an alternate ending #seo changbin #seo changbin x reader #seo changbin fluff #stray kids fluff #changbin x reader #skz changbin #changbin fluff #changbin wedding au #wedding au #also guys i don't really think i need to address this #but i thought it would be cute to have hyunjin walk her down the aisle #i know it's traditionally a dad thing #but i thought this was cute #can you tell i really don't know how weddings work

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loki-hargreeves · 5 years

Text

Bucky x Reader - Forfeit [PART 1]

Summary: You and Bucky are happily together until he has to leave for war. A few months later, you receive the news no one wanted to hear; he’s gone but his body was never found. A letter James wrote to you made you suspicious of his alleged death. Determined not to give up on the love of your life, you investigate and find out about HYDRA. Only, there’s a bump in your way of investigation… Warnings: Implied smut, fluff, mentions of war, angst, vulgar language Word Count: 3,1K (sorry that this part is so short!) Author’s Note: This is supposed to be a mini-series (3-5 parts) but it might get out of hand. Feedback would be lovely! Let me know if you want to be tagged :)

Your POV Brooklyn, New York City, 1943

“Do you think the future will really be like this?” I asked my boyfriend, James, as we strolled through the Stark Expo. It was night but the place was full of people who were curious to see the inventions and predictions made by Howard Stark himself. We were joined by Steve, James’s best friend and one of mine too. He happily walked along with us although I was leached onto James’ strong arm. We had just seen Howard present us with an early version of a flying car. It didn’t go so well but it did levitate for ten seconds.

“We’ll have to wait and see, sweetheart”, James answered me with a happy smile. Something about that made butterflies fly in my stomach. Just the thought of sharing our future years made me happier than I could ever explain.

Perhaps, it was fair enough to say I was madly in love with him.

But then the crashing horrors of reality slapped me in the face. Our future together wasn’t certain. The world war could take him away from me, which I hated to think about. As I looked at him, tall and handsome in his uniform, my heart clenched in my chest. My sergeant was going on duty soon. If he was taken away from me there, I wouldn’t handle it.

James noticed me staring so he stopped walking. Now he was standing right in front of me. I wanted to wrap myself around him again because the sun was long gone by now. I was only wearing a blue sundress and heels. As if he read my mind, he took off his army green jacket and wrapped it around my shoulders. “Don’t worry about it tonight, please. I know it’s hard but I hate seeing you worried”, James sighed. It was miraculous how he noticed my mood changes just like that.

Steve stopped a few feet away and he put his hands in his pockets that were way too big for him. I shot a glance at him and smiled, feeling sorry I was slowing these two down. Then I returned my gaze to my lover and I tried to relax. “I’m sorry, Bucky. I just don’t want to wake up to a day without you”, I admitted sadly.

“You shouldn’t worry about that. You know I’ll always come back to you, right?”

“I know.”

James cupped my face and pressed a warm kiss on my forehead which made me giggle. “Come on, I heard there’s a dance nearby. Steve, there are plenty of girls- Steve?” James suggested we’d go dancing but as he turned around, Steve was gone. How on earth did he get lost in five seconds?

“He’s probably trying to get enlisted again”, James realized after a while. Then he pointed at an Uncle Sam poster, that said ‘I want you for the U.S. Army’ and above it was a sign that pointed to a recruiting spot.

Bloody hell…

“Oh Steve”, I sighed and grabbed James’ hand. We both knew he wanted to serve his country but we both also knew his health would kick his ass probably much before the enemy would. No matter how many times he was denied, no matter how many times we sat him down and told him he could get in serious trouble, he just didn’t learn. He was determined, he deserved to be called that.

“Just- fuck, wait a second. I’ll go in there”, James sighed, apparently frustrated. I understood why and I didn’t bother stopping him. So we headed to the recruitment place and I waited a few feet away as James got inside. Steve wasn’t far away so I heard parts of the conversation. “Come on…” I heard Bucky’s attempt to get Steve to join us. After all, tomorrow life would be completely different again. It sounded like Steve wasn’t going to listen to Bucky this time either. Now they were fighting about Steve’s future, whether he should collect scrap metal or if he would actually get accepted and possibly killed. I couldn’t just stand there and let them fight.

“Are you guys coming or?” I called out for them, catching their attention. James turned around and smiled.

“Yes, we are!” He said and turned to Steve once more. He still didn’t budge. I crossed my arms and looked around them. That’s when I noticed that some old man was staring at them as well. He had grey hair, round glasses and a suit with a prestige tie. How odd. Before I could think about it any further, James seemed to be ready to join me again.

“Don’t do anything stupid until I get back”, I heard him say.

“How could I? You’re taking all the stupid with you”, Steve shot back playfully, which made me smile. These two were like brothers. I found it adorable, really.

“You’re a punk”, James told him as they hugged. After that, he came back to me and Steve got himself into trouble, most likely. James wrapped his arm around me and we walked away from the recruitment. “Do you think Steve from Ohio will get caught?”

I giggled at that. Ohio. “I have no idea, Bucks. Let’s hope he doesn’t.”

We walked towards the place where the dance was. Apparently, there was a bar there. It was themed futuristically to fit the expo. From outside, we heard the fun dance music and we saw the lights. People’s laughter carried outside and overall, it had a fun, vibrant vibe. I couldn’t wait to get inside and let loose for one night. “Come on, Bucks!” I tried to drag him with me. He laughed softly at me but for some reason, he didn’t follow, so I stopped and looked at him with confusion. “What?”

He looked at me with a big, bright smile and affection in his eyes. His gaze nearly made me blush. “Have I told you just how beautiful you are tonight?”

Had he hit his head? “Yes, about a hundred times”, I reminded him with a smile. Even though we had been in a relationship for over a year, he still knew how to make me flustered.

“Make it a hundred and one, you’re absolutely gorgeous, Y/N.”

“What’s this all about?” I wondered curiously. He seemed happy yet a little nervous. Was he still thinking about our earlier conversation about the war or was it something else…?

All of a sudden, James got down on one knee. The sight of him kneeling right in front of me, in front of all the people out here tonight, nearly made me jump out of my skin. Was he proposing? I covered my mouth with my trembling hands and held my breath. He was searching his pockets desperately but he didn’t seem to find something. Nevertheless, it didn’t shut him up.

“Will you marry me, Y/N? You’re the love of my life and I can’t imagine spending the rest of my days with anybody else. When I picture my future, I see you. It’s always you”, James poured his love and affection he had for me into the sweetest word I had ever heard. This moment was magical and I could hardly believe my eyes. My sweet, funny, handsome, brave lover was down on one knee. The sight was straight from my fairytale dreams!

“Yes! Of course, I’ll marry you!” I answered his proposal with happy tears in my eyes. James’ face lit up and he got up with the biggest smile. Without saying another word, he picked me up by my waist and spun me around. I giggled at his excitement and because the spinning tickled my belly a little bit.

“Oh my god, thank god. I was so scared you’d say no!” James revealed his worries to me as he put me down. How could he not see I was absolutely head over heels in love with him?

“What on earth made you think that?” I asked him, shocked.

“I don’t know, you’re just so goddamn perfect and sweet and I’m hardly at home these days-”

“Shut up and kiss me, future husband!” I teased him, with tears of joy ruining my mascara, but I didn’t care. He obeyed gladly and kissed me ever so eagerly. Sparks of joy spread throughout my entire body and for a moment, I felt genuinely happy. The people who had witnessed the proposal were clapping and cheering us on.

We were going to get married!

As we kissed, I felt how he put his hands in the pockets of his jacket that he had put around me. Then he broke our kiss and I saw why. He found the ring box!

“I was going to open this while I was down on my knees for you but I forgot it in my pocket”, he explained while pulling out the beautiful, silver ring with a diamond in the middle with beautiful carvings around it. He grabbed my hand gently and I noticed we were both trembling a little it. He put it around my ring finger after struggling a little bit but once he got it on, it fit like a glove. I couldn’t believe he wanted to tie the knot with me, but it felt absolutely fantastic!

“Do you like it?” James wondered as we both adored how the engagement ring looked on my finger and how the diamond sparkled in the many lights that surrounded us. Oh, did I like it?

“I love it, Bucks. It’s stunning!”

My answer seemed to please him because he smiled and kissed my cheek. Instead of pulling away from me, he moved closer to my ear. “How about we dance and celebrate properly afterwards, hm?” He suggested to me with a deep and raspy voice that sent shivers down to my core. As we stood there, he grabbed my right hand and my waist and began to sway with me. We barely heard the music but we didn’t care. His suggestion was truly tempting. If it wasn’t for the massive crowds around us, I would’ve gladly had him right here.

It was late when James and I arrived home. He picked up on on the porch and carried me inside bridal style, which had me laughing like an idiot. We had been getting touchy on the dance floor and one thing led to another. So we grabbed a cab and headed home. Poor cab driver, he almost had to witness our childish behaviour in the backseat. Now that we were home, we were inseparable.

“God, I want you so bad”, James groaned hungrily. He put me down on our bed and he crawled on top of me, attacking my neck with kisses. His lips were soft against my warm skin and it felt amazing.

“I’m right here, James”, I told him seductively. He looked up to my eyes and smirked. Oh, if only I could read his mind right now.

He climbed up my body until his face was right above mine. His stormy blue eyes looked into mine and I genuinely felt a connection. My heart was racing, beatingbeatingbeating, my body was almost quivering with anticipation. We both wanted, needed each other. Right now, nothing else mattered. We were just a couple, madly in love and greedy for each other. There were no wars, no duties, no nothing, just us. “I love you, Y/N”, James let me know softly. Those words sounded better each time I heard them.

“I love you too, James, so much”, I said it back and wrapped my arms around his neck, pulling him down so I could kiss him. I would do anything to stay in this moment forever. Soon, his hand snaked underneath my dress and he took it off with ease, like many times before, and he threw it somewhere on the light, carpet floor. The night was spent exploring each others’ bodies, devouring and caressing, kissing and biting, hissing and clawing, and by making sweet, sweet love. We made sure our yearning desires were satisfied, multiple times. We confessed our love many times and I found myself praising his name like it was the only word I remembered. We were one, fully and completely. There was nothing between our aching bodies that needed one another. Absolutely nothing kept us apart that night. He managed to make me forget about tomorrow, and the days after that.

“James! It feels so good!” I moaned to him while I was underneath his sweaty body.

“Fuck- you’re so stunning, Y/N. So perfect..”

After hours of raw pleasure and love devotions, we fell asleep in each others’ arms, bodies covered in evidence of our fiery love and affection.

The day I had grudged waking up to was here; James was leaving. Apparently, so was Steve which I simply didn’t understand. He was chosen for a special program that he briefly mentioned earlier in the car on our way here. I had listened only half-heartedly because I was sick worried about both of them. Sure, they would be at camp but I knew James was experienced. They would send him first in line, to missions and it scared the hell out of me. Now we were waiting for their ride which was pure torture. I tried to hold back my tears, which was difficult. I didn’t want to make James feel worse than he already did.

The platform at the train station was full of couples, even soldiers with their worried mothers and fathers. Some were here with their little children. Obviously, it was hard for everyone.

“Hey”, James wrapped his arm around me which snapped me out of my thoughts. I swallowed the lump that had formed in my throat and I faced him. God, he was beautiful. I didn’t want this to be the last time I locked eyes with him, nor did I want it to be the last time he held me. “Don’t worry, darling. I’ll come back to you.”

“You can’t be sure, Bucks. What if-”

“Don’t, please”, He pressed a finger on my lips, gently, but it was enough to shut me up. For the first time in a while, I saw that he was concerned. My heart twisted in my chest. He must’ve felt terrible enough about leaving. “Sorry, love, I just don’t want to imagine the bad alternatives. I don’t want to hurt you.”

“It’s okay, I get it”, I sighed and decided to hug him. James took a deep, shaky breath and wrapped his arms around me strongly. Something about the hug made my emotions harder to hold back. My eyes watered and I felt the familiar sting in my nose. My tears were threatening to spill. It was dangerously close. The scent of his cologne didn’t help at all. I’d have to buy a bottle of it and spray it around the house to feel less lonely. Maybe it was crazy but I didn’t care anymore.

“I’ll write to you whenever I can, okay?” He suggested which made me feel slightly better.

“And I��ll reply as fast as I can”, I promised him. “Take care of Steve, will you?” I added quickly. Just as I was worried about James, I was worried about our friend. I was afraid the other men would pick on him like they already did here.

James chuckled softly, “Of course, I’d never let him get in too much trouble alone.”

The loud whistle and chugging noises from the train interrupted us. My heart jumped to my throat and I held onto my fiancé a little tighter, afraid to let go if this was the last time. He hugged me back a little tighter and buried his head in the crook of my neck. That’s when I failed to hold back my tears. They slid down my face and I whimpered sadly.

“I’m so sorry, love. I wish I could stay with you, m'lady”, James kissed my wet cheek and spoke between kisses. The train’s braces screamed until it stopped beside the platform.

“Be s-safe, please”, I whispered because my voice barely carried. He nodded and put his hands on my waist, parting from the hug. Then he closed the distance between us by kissing me. It was so bittersweet; my tears mixed with the kiss that could very well be our last one. It was so full of love and desire. I deepened the kiss by holding onto his face and pulling him closer. We were so close it almost hurt yet we yearned for more. We parted when we had to breathe and the two men had to get on that train.

“I love you so much, so so much”, I let him know as we broke our kiss. James grabbed his bag and threw it over his shoulder. Even he had glossy eyes now. No matter how many times we said goodbye, it never got easier. This time was different. We were engaged. Also, I had a terrible gut feeling about this all which made everything worse.

“I love you too, Y/N, to the moon and back”, He told me and then he had to get going. I waved goodbye to him and Steve. Steve gave me a sympathetic look as he saw my tears.

“I’ll keep my eyes on him for you, Y/N. Stay safe!” He promised me kindly, which felt nice.

“You too, Steve.”

I watched as the two of them got on the train and as they disappeared among the other soldiers. I pushed my way through the other woman so I could catch a glimpse of them through the windows, hopefully. After looking around desperately, I saw James. He pushed his head through the window and searched for me. Seeing him up there scared me halfway to the grave but I had to admit I was proud of him, my soldier. Once he spotted me, he smiled and waved. I waved back just as the train began to move again. The speed of the train made his hair move with the wind a little bit, making it messy. Thankfully, he wasn’t wearing his hat or else it would be long gone. We kept eye contact until the train was too far away. I stayed on the platform to watch the train disappear until I was alone.

I really hoped James and Steve would come back in one piece.

[PART 2 - coming soon!]

TAGS: @twigleektribute23 @sadly-falling-through-wonderland @iraniq @embrycallsgirl @blackroseyaz @badass-psycho @r-alexandra01 @p3aches13 @myfakeescape

#bucky #james buchanan barnes #james barnes imagine #james barnes x reader #bucky x reader #40s!bucky #40s!bucky x reader #bucky fanfiction #marvel fanfiction #bucky series #bucky x y/n

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annaabullock · 5 years

Text

Line of Sight

I tend to write only for myself, but I’ve realized I feel strong emotions just like you and I want to share them with you.

I want to share some of the best memories I’ve experienced this past year with you. I want to tell you about the people that changed my life.

Flying from California to Prague and meeting some of my best friends in a country that first intimidated me opened my eyes to more than I could imagine. This past year was filled with those kinds of moments that make you realize why you’re alive. Those moments when you feel your heart pound faster than ever before. Those moments when you look around and see people that make you smile from ear to ear. These people all share the same characteristic, they long to find true beauty in a world that so easily places darkness in our hearts and minds.

As Petr Ginz once said:

“Prague, you fairy tale in stone, how well I remember!”

I want to start by telling you about someone very special to me. This person taught me to love myself no matter what others think. She became my stillness when all I felt prior to her arrival was a never ending storm of doubt and questioning. She knew herself and her goals and I longed to be like her. Her passion for teaching and loving others sparked my interest, to say the least. Today I call her much more than a friend, but yesterday she was just the girl that sat next to me in my soviet block class always wearing a colorful button-up and cheetah print Guess glasses. Her soul filled with love and passion, yet her past never shown on her porcelain soft face. Filled with fire and the will to see the wonders of the world; she began to teach me what others could not. She spent hours with her face in novels filled with stories of the past. She lives to tell others narratives and loves every second of it. She’s a beautiful woman waiting to take her shot in this world. And when she does... she won’t miss. When you get a front row seat and watch closely, you will find the heart of a saint and the passion of a world leader. She’s just her true beautiful self.

Oh how I could not believe this next person came into my life. She’s a woman filled with fire. Her long black hair tells the story of a girl with sass and gratitude. She can dance all night. She can sing her heart out to ABBA and Queen. She can make you laugh harder than you’d ever thought possible. She’s a young woman that pushes you to do better and to realize you’re not alone. Upon meeting you, I never thought in a million years we would be laughing our asses off in the middle of Masarykova Kolej at 2am or dancing through the streets after hearing our favorite 80’s music play in a club that stamped “home” on our hearts. She showed me what it meant to be a true friend whether we see each other everyday or once a month. We both know we’ll never forget what Prague brought us. Prague showed us both what life looks like when you don’t give a damn what others say. Nicki Minaj would be proud to know her biggest fan screamed the lyrics of “Plain Jane” in a dorm filled with Czech students just trying to get some shuteye. Oh how I miss taking the Dejvická metro at 5am and sprinting after tram 20 to take us one stop away. You were and always will be my other half my friend.

Blonde, tall, filled with stories. She’s a sarcastic woman with the brain of Einstein. From trying to teach each other ways to memorize the Czech language to crying while listening to “Angela,” you were my buddy. Waking up early and talking over a cup of coffee. It’s simple moments like these that make me remember how alive we were. Watching the sunrise as the next day in our little magical city began to unfold. We loved every minute of it. The snow falling slowly down on the cobblestone streets. Just a California girl standing next to someone that’s seen it all. Thank you for letting me scream when I woke up early to find the city covered in white powder. We were sisters when we went out late and the best combination of crazy and young anyone has ever seen. I can hear it now. The laughs and the conversations filled with how lucky we were to be in a city that gave us love and a glimpse at pure joy.

No one could ever forget you two. We will always call you “the boys.” You two brought friendship and long nights filled with talks of how to change the world for the better. From discussing economic detriments to political activism, we weren’t afraid to push each other’s limits and allow our minds to search freely for our own newly created opinions. I’ll never forget spending the day in Dresden, walking the streets and continuously pouring bottle after bottle into that gray hydro flask we all shared. Our footprints forever in cities we created memories. We were the group filled with anarchists, lonely hearts, and of course good Chinese food. I know the family market misses your purchases and our terrible Czech “dekuju” as we walked out the door to play Mao and watch our feet sail high in the place we called our spot. As we watched our Eiffel Tower light up bright, we sang along to “Blur” and discussed how the modern apartments across the way looked like legos. I know that even though we’re long gone, our souls still linger in that park and I can still hear the sound of tram 22 passing by, the electric wire sending off sparks as we watch it slowly pass by. Us four know the Russians miss us and our company at our favorite spot just next to the TV Tower. From wandering through parks to yelling at each other in Banyan. We made memories we’ll never forget.

Cheers to you Prague.

I’ll never forget that tiny little Central European country that taught me to never give up and to do the things most would find unimaginable. You brought more than just joy into this young girls heart. You gave me friendships that will last even after I am gone. My heart will forever be found on top of Petrin Hill watching over the city, with tears rolling down my cheeks as I vividly remember every memory made. My heart full and my soul armored in joy, I’ll be back in the blink of an eye.

-A.B.

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khaelisfics · 6 years

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Short Soumate AU - the concept was “your soulmark is a reference to what your soulmate likes the most”, and I rather liked it!

Tagging @doctorroseprompts, in case this can fit into a prompt!

I hope you’ll like it! :-)

He had scoured every modern art museum, every ephemeral exhibition throughout the country, combed through thousands of websites about painting, drawing, sculpting, bought hundreds of magazines and books about the subject. No name, no face he had encountered had caused that spark he was desperately looking for.

He tossed his ticket in a nearby bin, annoyed and disappointed he hadn’t found her in that tedious expo in a dark corner of London. Listening to wrinkled man on the verge of falling asleep each time he stopped talking in that monotonous crow had put his patience to the test. Looking at depressing paintings about death and phantasmagorical creatures made by an artist who obviously didn’t know black and grey weren’t the only colours that existed hadn’t helped. Maybe it wasn’t a bad thing he hadn’t found her there, actually. He didn’t know what he would feel if his soulmate happened to be a deranged woman fascinated by necromancia and festering cadavers.

A liquid shiver rolled down his spine at the thought, and he hurried to take out his list of current exhibitions he needed to go to.

“Nope to Nighthorses 66, then,” he mumbled under his breath, crossing the name of the exhibition with the pencil he always kept in his pocket. “Next is… S.C.M. Just hope this doesn’t stand for super creepy monsters."

He shoved his quickly shortening list back into his pocket and headed for the nearest underground station. It was already quite late in the afternoon, and he knew he should call it a day, head back home and get a full night of sleep if he didn’t want to doze off over his desk the morning later. But he also knew the disappointment and frustration of not making any progress, the longing he felt to finally find her growing into some kind of unhealthy obsession only predicted long hours spent tossing and turning in his sheets without finding Morpheus’ comforting embrace.

He took a quick look at his watch, ignoring the soulmark on his arm as if it’d just been a cheap tattoo he would forever regret, and made his decision. He hopped out of the train a few stations later, didn’t look twice at the large mural on the wall he had learnt a few years back had been painted by a foreign young artist, and made his way up the stairs. He was getting tired to try and see her where she wasn’t. A sticker on lamp post with a cartoonish drawing. Crass tags in back alleys, elaborated frescos on iron curtains. Street traders who sold ridiculously expensive prints of artworks stolen on the Internet. Everywhere he looked, he was tempted to believe it was her, and every time, he was a tad more disillusioned when he found out it wasn’t.

His worn chucks squished on the wet pavement as he made his way to one of his favorite places. It was a cramped bookshop in the corner of an ever-deserted street he had discovered the first time he had moved in this part of the city, rather by accident than real intention, and he came back to it every week, some weeks every day. It wasn’t as much the books as the owner that always brought his steps back to that small shop that smelled of yellowed paper and dust. Rose, was her name. A young woman with honey-eyes and wheat-hair, full lips and round nose. He knew she was just his friend, but sometimes, he wished his soulmark could be a small pile of books, or a meaningful quote from her favorite author - not that odd-shaped moon that belonged in a Van Gogh painting. His soulmate was an artist, not a bookworm. Not the woman he had dreamt of so often he believed he must have broken a hundred rules and, though unwillingly, cheated on his real soulmate on several occasions. Not Rose. Never Rose.

The small bell chimed when he pushed the ancient door open and the sound of his steps died on the heavy carpet. She was nowhere in sight - probably in the cellar she called a storage room, or in the broom cupboard she called an office. She would eventually pop out, like she usually did whenever the bell rang. His feet took him to the only alley he was interested in, and he picked up an old encyclopedia that had lost a bit of its varnish. He had always wanted to buy this book, but it almost was a relic, and not only did it look like it, it was also worth it. He sifted through random pages, smiling at the centuries-old mathematical formulas and theorems that had long been replaced by more precise, and especially more valid ones.

“You should buy it before it’s gone.”

He hurried to slide the heavy book back in its space at the sound of her smiling voice and twirled on his feet to greet her with a smile of his own.

“Rose, hi, how…” he started before his mouth gaped open and his voice died in his throat.

He first noticed the dark blue apron she was wearing over her eternal oversized jumper. Then he spotted the pencil she had stuck behind an ear. And he finally understood the multicoloured stains dotting and streaking the apron were paint. That wasn’t right. Rose loved books. She was a bookseller. Not an artist. He would know if she were, after so much time spent sharing coffees and pointless conversations. So much time spent wishing she could be the one.

“Fine, if your question was how are you,” she giggled, wiping her hands on her apron so she could give his shoulder a friendly slap without harming his pinstriped jacket. “How are you?”

“I, uh, yeah, good, I suppose,” he nodded - he found his voice again when he managed to ame his heart hammering against his ribs. “What are you doing with all that equipment?”

“What does it look like I’m doing, John?” she taunted as she motioned for him to follow her through the maze of crammed corridors. “I was about to close, I didn’t think anyone would come so I just started working on a little something. D’you wanna sneak a peek?”

“You never told me you liked painting,” he said, almost reproachful.

“You never asked.”

She led him to the door that was plastered with a large sticker that read storage, offered him a shy smile and pushed the door open with a finger.

He couldn’t move. Instead of a dark, small room filled to the brim with rows of old books, he saw a bright, large space void of anything. Anything but paintings, hanging on the walls, haphazardly propped up against the walls. Colours bursting out of the canvas like fireworks, fiery landscapes and smooth still-lives, abstract shapes that made him feel so many things at once his heart flew to his throat, meticulous portraits of people she probably knew given the depth and the familiariaty that oozed from the faces. She was painter. A very talented painter. An artist. Rose was an artist.

“I wanted to show you the one I’m working on,” she said as she strutted towards her easel that was directed towards the window, unaware he was staring a her as if she’d just turned into one of the monsters he’d seen at the weird exhibition. “I think… You’re the expert, maybe you can tell me if I did it right?”

He could only nod even though he barely heard her words and watched, speechless and on the verge of collapsing under the weight of the unexpected revelation. Rose was an artist. She turned her easel towards him, and what he saw made his stomach twist into tight and uncomfortable knots.

“That’s a golden spiral,” he said, running a feverish hand through his spikes of hair. “Logarithmic spiral, it’s… Maths.”

“Yeah, I know,” she smiled, a quivering smile that lacked its usual enthusiasm. “Does it look… Dunno, accurate?”

“Accurate isn’t the first word that came to my mind,” he said softly, taking a few steps towards the painting to let his fingers hover over the snake of yellow and soft orange. “This looks beautiful, Rose. Why did you paint this?”

“‘Cause I found out…’ she started, sheepishly rocking on the ball of her feet. “What my soulmark is. I didn’t want to know, because I’ve always thought I would meet my soulmate whether I knew or not. But then… I mean, you came along and you made it really hard to resist the temptation.”

“What’s your soulmark, Rose? Please, show me.”

He held his breath as she slowly rolled her sleeve up her arm, stared at her pale skin covered with lines and lines of tiny numbers from her wrist to the crook of her elbow. He wanted to scream his joy, cry his relief, he wanted to hug her and kiss her and let his whole body and soul finally love her. But he simply blinked and swallowed it all down. She had never told him about her mark. She had never wanted him to know, and she probably had a hundred good reasons not to tell him.

“That’s the Fibonacci sequence,” he told her, unconsciously tugging on his own sleeve to make sure she wouldn’t see his mark. “It’s… My favorite sequence, actually.”

“I know,” she shrugged with an embarrassed twist of her lips. “I mean, I figured. You’ve bought several books about that sequence from me, you know. Doctor Smith, clever scientist and mathematician and all.”

He noticed the dejection in her voice, the way she gently kicked the foot of her easel and lowered her eyes to the carpet. He was hurt, deep and violent, that she didn’t seem to want any of what he had to offer, but that didn’t make him any less indifferent to her own pain. He slipped a finger under her chin to catch her eyes and give her a gentle look she didn’t want.

“Talk to me, Rose,” he said softly, fully cupping her cheek when she started to bow her head again. “Tell me what’s wrong.”

“I know you’ve got a bit of Starry Night on your arm,” she answered with a sharp nibble on her lip. “I know that… You would have found out I like painting, sooner or later.”

“Why wait until now, then?” he asked, befuddled by the tears that started to roll down her cheeks. “Rose, I don’t understand, what’s wrong?”

“Look at me, John,” she sighed, swatting his hand away from her face. “Look at me and tell me I’m the soulmate you’ve always wanted. Tell me I was made for you. Tell me you can ever love me. I don’t want you to think I’m the one is all. There has to be someone else for you, John.”

They matched. He didn’t understand why she refused to see it, refused to believe it, refused to accept she could be his soulmate. They matched. That’s all he understood. Her mark was a mathematical sequence. His mark was actually borrowed from a Van Gogh painting. They matched. And he had fallen for that woman so long ago, To know he had already learnt everything he loved about her, to know she was the one. That left no room for tears or unhappiness.

Despite her protests, he cupped bot her cheeks again and hurried to press a soft, lingering on her lips before she could draw back. Rose was an artist. Rose was the one.

“You’re the one I’ve always wanted,” he whispered, catching her lips between his again to steal her answer. “You were made for me, like I was made for you.”

“John…” she tried to complain, though she was slowly melting into his arms, little by little, a little more each time his hot breath caressed her chin and his lips danced against her own. “I’m not…”

“There’s no one else for me. You, just you. God, why did you have to wait so long, Rose, we’ve lost so much time. All that time spent looking for you when I had already found you. All that time spent pretending I didn’t love you when I could have shown you how much I do. “

“You do?” she breathed out, pulling away to see that truth in his eyes.

He only sat on her stool and pulled her sitting over his lap, his mouth hungrily looking for those lips he wanted to devour, his chest pressing hard against that body he wanted to touch, his heart reaching out for that shared loved he wanted to drown into. Rose wasn’t just an artist. She was his soulmate.

#ficandchips #doctorroseprompts #ten x rose #soulmate #au #john smith x rose tyler #first kiss #fluff #romance #<3

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unpeeledpotatochic · 3 years

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To the next man who will challenge my peace and would decide to knock at my heart;

I. Please knock softly, the walls of my heart have thinned from years of breaking and repeatedly sewing back together. I have been shattered, and sewn piece by piece with nothing but self love.

Ii. When you knock, please use your fingertips, not your knuckles. Call out my name until I allow myself to hear the sincerity in your voice. Sometimes my ears shut off the background because it tends to be noisier than the busiest city there is. Caress me like a velvet sheet in a starless evening. I need your hands to wrap my trembling fingers which are quick to count the minutes until you discover clarity—reality that what you see in me is just one of my masks.

Iii. Please be gentle with me, I am still learning to realize the truth in your reasons. Please be gentle and persistent and consistent and patient and loving especially on the days I need it most. Especially on the days I am unkind to myself. I need assurance, like ALWAYS. I need to know that even when the world combusts in flames, your touch is enough to spark joy and relief. I have been living in the cold, disguised as a ray of sunshine. Please take care of my flames, they may look beautiful but they’re still blue.

Iv. I am used to taking care of people. I was born to be a fixer, a negotiator, a moderator, a litigator, a prosecutor, I do not need a hero. I need a partner, I need someone who is quick to sense I am in dire need of support, a boost, some sense of validation. I need a semblance of grounding because the weight of my responsibilities blows me away. I am used to be needed, please become someone I will need.

V. Let us allow ourselves to grow but won’t last a day without each other. I need to be familiar with your presence because I am used to pushing people away, please fight to stay. Please take up some space in my life while I teach myself to make room for our future. Watch me bloom, be the rain that waters my leaves.

Vi. I need to be heard, respected, acknowledged, seen. Talk to me. I want us to live in honesty, truth, and ingenuity. My mind defers from a lot of the norm and I tend to become very passionate over my beliefs, advocacies, socio-political stance, and I need you to listen to me rant about injustice, violence, abuse. I need you to understand where I’m coming from because those are my triggers as well.

Vii. My body, my rules. There will be times that I despise being held, a few times when I live for your touch. There is no in between and I need you to respect the difference. I am still learning to establish boundaries and I need you to be my accountability partner. Help me love myself a little bit more everyday because I am still trying to see what you saw in me that rendered you in this lifetime of twist and turns.

Viii. Silence is one of my love languages. There will be times I just love the quiet, the pause, the break from all the planning and organizing and all things ‘productive’. I need you to respect that because that is me recharging and clearing up some space for you—us. At this point, if we ever reach more than a year of relationship, my mind automatically gathers all the initial boxes I have sorted with regards to the ‘why-you’re-dating-me’. I need to archive them now because I will put new boxes about ‘what-else-can-I-do-to-be-worthy-of-you?’.

Ix. To the next man who will challenge my peace and decide to knock at my heart, please come when you’re ready for me—the real me. The good, the bad, and the ugly. I am not sure which mask was I wearing when I got your interest but I will please you in ways I read from books, in manners I watch from movies. I will please you but would still be unsure on what to do with you. On the day you knock at my heart and decide to stay in my life, please do it when you’re 200% ready.

X. To the next man who will challenge my peace and decide to knock at my heart, please understand there may be more than one door to get you inside. Expect a maze before you can reach the key. But if you do get in…

Xi. Find me.

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anne-wentworth · 7 years

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Hi!! I’ve had this idea in my mind for a while and I was wondering if you could write it? Harvey takes Donna to Paris to celebrate something, you can decide what, but the truth is he knows how much she loves the city and wants to propose to her there. Thanks!!

Not exactly what you asked for but I really hope you still like it.

Ours

Read on ao3

Donna walked into the room, hair still damp from her shower. She ran the towel through it as she made her way over to the bed. Harvey scooted over a little to give her some more space as she plopped down.

He stared at her while she dried her hair, the affection rising in his chest warring with the guilt pooled in his stomach.

“I’m sorry that you have to spend your birthday like this,” he apologized for what must have been the millionth time.

Donna looked up, shooting him a glare filled with exasperation.

“How many times have I told you that it’s fine?”

He shrugged, knowing that she meant it but unable to stop himself from feeling bad. Or tamper his own disappointment.

They were supposed to be in Paris by now.

Harvey had surprised Donna weeks ago with two tickets. Their flight was scheduled early in the morning on the day before her birthday. However, while he was still planning, he had called Marcus for some advice, knowing that he had taken his wife to Paris a few years ago for a romantic getaway. And his brother suggested, although with some force, that he and Donna come up and spend some time with him and the rest of his family. Before he could automatically decline, Marcus pointed out that he hardly saw him due to the fact that he never took a vacation, attempting to guilt trip him the way he used to when they were kids. But with Donna’s encouragement, Harvey had been trying to mend his relationship with his mother and visiting his brother did sound nice. So he had thrown the idea out to Donna, even before telling her about Paris, and his girlfriend had been nothing short of delighted at the chance to get to know his family better.

Thus, they drove up to Boston at the beginning of the week.

Everything had been going spectacularly. His mother and nieces had instantly fallen in love with Donna. And more than once Harvey found himself watching her play with the girls, the sight tugging on his heartstrings as he envisioned a similar future for them both with children of their own one day.

Marcus had caught him once, a smirk on his face as he teased Harvey about being whipped. The hypocrisy of such a statement was mind boggling considering that Marcus would do just about anything Katie asked, especially if it made her smile. But when Harvey voiced this out loud Marcus just shrugged, a proud expression on his face.

The Specter men were weak when their hearts had been stolen. Neither brother cared one bit though.

On the day before they were supposed to fly out however, Lily had a heart attack.

It wasn’t anything too serious but she would need to remain in the hospital for a few days. Donna insisted that they cancel their trip and Harvey also didn’t feel comfortable leaving his mother when she was in such a state. So despite Lily’s arguments that she was fine and they should go, the couple remained.

And instead of spending Donna’s birthday in Le Meurice, they were in Marcus’ guest room.

Climbing further into bed, Donna sprawled out next to him, her head resting on his chest.

“Besides,” she said, snuggling up against him. “As long as I’m spending my birthday with you, I’m happy.”

Her words sent a surge of sunlight throughout his veins, the warmth seeping into his system and painting him in gold.

“And you tell me I’m the sappy one,” he replied teasingly.

She playfully slapped him on his arm and a burst of laughter escaped from his throat. A grin was written on her own features and as she stared at him like he was the only person on the planet, everything in Harvey went quiet.

Donna would never stop feeling like home.

Because she was his home.

The thought wrapped itself around his heart as the ring he bought her burned a hole in his pocket.

There was another reason he had been so hell bent on Paris.

He was going to propose.

Harvey took the ring out of the suitcase again earlier, looking at it again before finally shoving it in his pocket.

He hadn’t worked out when he was going to pop the question now that their plans had been squashed but as he lay there with Donna in his arms, he couldn’t help but think that there was no time like the present. He already wasted enough years by being an ass and refusing to admit that he was in love with her. He wasn’t going to wait any longer.

“There’s another reason I wanted to go to Paris,” he said softly.

Donna looked at him questioningly as he untangled himself from her and got out of bed.

As he dropped down on one knee however, pulling out the ring box, her confused expression shifted as her eyes bulged and her jaw fell to the floor.

His heart began to race as he stared at her, unsure of what to say. He didn’t prepare anything and right then all of his thoughts were a jumble in his brain.

“Donna,” he started, the two syllables stitched together with adoration. “I love you. You’re my everything. You’re the love of my life and I want to spend the rest of my life with you. I want to wake up next to you every morning and go to sleep with you in my arms every night. I want the good times and the bad times with you. Because Donna you’re it for me. And I’m happiest when I’m by your side. So will you please make me the happiest man in the world, now and forever? Will you marry me?”

His vision was blurred as the universe held its breath because no answer had ever been as important as this.

“Yes!” she exclaimed, tears streaming down her cheeks as she grinned from ear to ear. “Yes Harvey, yes.”

All of a sudden she was in his arms and they were tumbling to the bed, a messy heap of giggles and love as their mouths clashed together. Every cell in his body sang while fireworks exploded in his chest, the sounds melding together in the most beautiful harmony. Harvey could taste the stars on Donna’s lips as he kissed her with everything he had, unraveling in her fingers. He was going to burst from the joy of it all.

“Can I put the ring on your finger?” he asked when they pulled apart.

“Oh! Yeah,” Donna said as if she had forgotten all about it.

Harvey smiled as he slid the object on her finger and it found its new home.

“It’s beautiful,” she whispered, staring at the way the diamonds shimmered in the light.

He had spent hours searching for a ring and in the end, settled on one with a plain band that had a rather sizable, but still not overly large diamond in the center that was surrounded by smaller stones. It was eighteen carats of beauty and hearing that she liked it made his heart swell.

“So this is why you’ve been so disappointed about our trip getting cancelled,” she said, turning her attention back to him.

“Yeah,” he responded, tucking a piece of her hair behind her ear.

Donna gazed at him in wonder as she shook her head.

“Harvey you could have proposed to me in a dumpster and I would have said yes.”

Sparks danced in his very soul.

“I know. But you deserve the best.”

“I already have the best,” she smiled before pressing her lips against his.

And so, tangled together in Harvey’s little brother’s guest bedroom, the couple found their own version of Paris in the arms of each other.

Donna moaned as she bit into her sandwich. Her eyes were squeezed shut, her head thrown back a little.

Harvey was pretty sure she was having some kind of religious experience.

Six months after their botched plans, they finally made it to Paris.

When Harvey suggested they go to Paris for their honeymoon, Donna lit up like Christmas and so that was that.

Today, they were visiting the Louvre. Donna was a ball of excitement the whole morning as she rambled on about various pieces of art she couldn’t wait to see. While Harvey was interested, his level of enthusiasm couldn’t match Donna’s.

After all, he already married the most beautiful artwork that existed.

“This is so good!” she exclaimed, her mouth stuffed.

“I can see that,” he replied with amusement.

Donna rolled her eyes in response and he grinned. That familiar wave of happiness that appeared whenever he was with Donna washed over him. He would drown in the feeling if he could.

The little cafe they were in bustled with people but she was the only person he saw.

She was the only one who mattered.

“Can you please pass me a napkin Mrs. Paulsen Specter?” he inquired, trying and failing to keep a straight face.

After insisting that she wasn’t going to change her name, in the end, she decided to hyphenate.

Harvey would have been happy even if she had kept her name but he admitted that Paulsen Specter had a certain ring to it that made butterflies flutter about in his stomach.

“You’re never going to get tired of saying that are you?” Donna asked, wearing an amused smile of her own.

“Never.”

“Here you go my husband,” she said, handing him a napkin as her own eyes shined.

Harvey’s grin only widened at her words.

He wasn’t the only one floating on air.

“You’re never going to get tired of saying that are you?” he was the one to ask this time.

“Never.”

They were idiots in love, making eyes at each other from across the table.

“I love you,” he said suddenly simply because he could.

Because he went more than thirteen years keeping those three words bottled up inside him.

“I love you too,” she replied tenderly.

Paris was the most romantic city in the world, constantly filled with lovers from every corner of the earth. But it had been built for Donna and Harvey.

Sitting in a small cafe on the edge of the street, they made it theirs. Just like they did with everything else.

#darvey #darvey fanfiction #darvey fic #darvey fluff #donna x harvey #mine

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spoonfulofsexy · 7 years

Text

Party Like A Stark

Peter Parker x Stark Reader

Part (1/6)

Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6

Summary: Today is your 19th birthday, and you also happen to be Tony Stark’s loved daughter. What’s a better way to celebrate this special day than a party?! All the Avengers and family friends will be there, even your secret crush Spider-Man. You’ve always wanted to meet the famous spiderling, but little did you know you already know him. Your party will definitely be one to remember.

Warnings: none! just lots of fluff and hugs

Masterlist

AN: So this will be my mini Peter fic that will lead up to smut!! I wanted to just do a Peter smut but i had this brilliant idea that needed more than one post!! I would like to point out that both Peter and reader are 18+, so it’s not weird. Also, Pietro is alive and healthy bc I refuse to accept that this precious muffin is dead. Also Clint and Nat are together bc I refuse to believe they weren’t made for each other. So hope you enjoy the first part of my mini fic!!

It’s crazy to think how 19 years today you were brought into this world, but also lost a key person in your life. Your mother died during childbirth, so Tony Stark took it upon himself to be your guardian. He was the father after all. Him and your mother may not have been married but they were very close friends and Tony just couldn’t leave you. Your mother was planning on being a single parent, because she didn’t think Tony was ready for kids. But when plans change so did Tony, for the sake of your loved mother and his own flesh and blood.

Tony raised you to the best of his abilities with the help of Happy and Pepper. You were homeschooled with the best teachers all over the country. You became to be a brilliant minded child with so much future ahead of her. You were excelling in your academics and took on piano lessons, while learning 2 other languages.

Tony has finally done something right. You were his pride and joy, he did everything he could to make your life enjoyable and fun. I mean he was Tony Stark, what Stark doesn’t have fun right?

Well that leads to today, Tony was planning a huge party for your birthday. It would mostly consist of just Avengers and Shield agents that you had become close with. The Avengers had become your family, you practically grew up in the same tower as them. Since you were homeschooled, you didn’t have any friends outside of those four walls. But you didn’t mind, because you had superhero friends who loved you for who you were and not because of your last name.

Since the Avengers HQ was relocated outside of the city, you never really had anywhere you could just go out and grab some food or go shopping. You really missed that, but you knew it was safer out in the middle of nowhere. No more paparazzi every time you stepped out of those doors, or the sound of traffic rage. Yeah, it was a lot more peaceful out here, but you would move back to the city in a heartbeat.

You know what else is great about the city? Spider-man. Your dad has been mentoring Spider-man for a few months now, but your dad hasn’t let you guys meet yet. All you knew was that he was 19 and a super sweet guy. Your dad would brag about him all the time at meals, or while in the lab with you. It’s kind of embarrassing to admit, but you may have a tiny crush on him. I mean yeah, you haven’t met the kid but who wouldn’t fall for a guy with that kind of body in those tight spandex?

You could just imagine how muscular his body was behind that suit, and the way his hands felt running against your skin. You wondered what his lips felt like against your-

“GOOD MORNING, PUMPKIN!”, you were snatched out of your dream by your father’s loud voice.

Your heart was already racing from your dream, now your dad almost gave you a heart attack. “AH”, you let out a little yell as you instantly sat up in bed.

Tony sat down next to you on the bed and brought you into a bone crushing hug. “Happy birthday, my little snuggle monster.” He squeezed you tighter with every word.

“Daaaaad”, you wheezed out.

“Oh sorry”, he let go and put his hands on his arms to look at you. “Look how beautiful you’ve become”, he wiped an imaginary tear. “You’re almost as good looking as your father”, he laughed at his own joke.

“Dad, come on. You know I don’t have my full potential when I have bed head”, you joked back.

He ruffled your already messy hair, “Ah but you’re just as brilliant as him.”

You snorted at his not so modest compliment. “Thanks, dad”, you gave him a little snuggle. “Why’d you wake me up so early though?”, you looked at the clock that read 9:00 AM.

“Early?!”, he laughed. “Honey, it’s 9:00, it’s not that early.”

You shrugged and laid back down, “A girl needs her sleep.”

He rolled his eyes playfully. “What about a girl that gets the day to go back to the city?”

That definitely sparked your interest, “Uh would that girl happen to be me?”

“Maybe”, Tony rubbed his chin as if he was in deep thought.

You threw the covers off of you and got out of bed, “Well in that case, who needs sleep?!”

Your dad couldn’t help but laugh at your change of attitude. He followed you out of your room and into the dining room.

“So what’s fo- GAH”, You were surprised tackled to the ground by a very specific speedster.

“It is your birthday!!”, Pietro gave you a loving hug.

“Yes, we must give you your birthday hugs!”, Wanda joined the two of you.

“Aw, you guys thank you”, you embraced the two twins. Tony couldn’t help but smile at the friendship the three of you had. Since you guys were all the same age, you bonded very well. You would even say they were your best friends.

“Alright, guys let’s let the birthday girl get some food in that bellay”, Tony guided the hug monster you three created into the dining room.

The three of you sat at the table while your dad got some food ready with Pepper.

“So you are now part of the 19 crew”, Wanda smiled with joy.

“Man, now I’m just as cool as you guys right?”, you winked as you took a sip of your orange juice.

“Nah, we are still the cooler ones”, Pietro waved you off.

Plates of food were set on the table, and Pepper came in and gave you a quick peck on the cheek. “Happy birthday, dear.”

You pulled her into a hug, “Thanks Pepp.” Your eyes grew at all the food in front of you, “Wow did you guys make all this food by yourselves?”

“We may have had a little help”, Tony gestured to the doorway that led to the kitchen. Suddenly walked out Clint and Nat. You instantly ran out of your chair and embraced them. You haven’t seen them in ages, because of the little civil war that happened between the group. Friendships were being mended but you didn’t expect to see them.

“You guys!!”, you squealed. “I can’t believe you guys came!!”

“Well we are like your favorite Aunt and Uncle, right?”, Clint joked as he hugged you tighter.

“I’m lovin the look you’re going for today”, Nat picked up a piece of your tangled hair.

“I know, it’s a Stark look”, you let go of them and spun around showing off one of your dad’s old, baggy rock and roll t-shirts.

“Alright, kiddo, you better eat so you can leave sooner”, your dad called you over.

“Right, right”, you came back and sat at the table.

You ate an incredible amount of food then sprinted off to your room with Wanda and Nat to get ready. You decided to wear some loose high waisted short with the ankles rolled a bit, and a white cropped tank top that showed off your midriff. For shoes, you wore your comfy opened toed high heeled ankle boots. Let’s not forget about accessories, you wore some simple silver bracelets and rings, and your classic Raybans sunglasses. Then Nat loosely curled your hair while you did a simple make-up look.

With the help, you were ready in an hour! The city crew consisted of Happy, Nat, Pepper, Pietro, Wanda, and you, of course. You were so excited that you were practically bouncing in your seat. Pietro, Wanda, and you jammed out to songs the entire ride down. It was great because those two could make car rides a freaking party.

“Guys, GUYS WE’RE HERE”, you were smacking Pietro in the arm with excitement.

“Ow”, he winced.

Then a hint of sadness washed over you when you saw the old tower. “Aw, hi old home.” You pressed your face and palm against the car window, trying to get as close as you could to the building.

“So (Y/N), wanna get some coffee or something at that cafe you like, then shop?”, Pepper turned around in her seat to ask you.

“Yes, that sounds like a solid plan, Pepps”, you smiled and gave a thumbs up.

She laughed and nudged at Happy, “Isn’t she so much like her father?”

You pretended not to hear that as you gazed out the window. Not too long after Happy parked the car and the six of you walked a block down to this cute cafe to order some drinks.

“Here what do you guys want, I’ll pay”, Pepper guided you guys into a straight line.

“No-”, you tried to object but she insisted.

“Look, I’ve got Tony’s card. He won’t mind if I pay for our drinks”, she winked.

As you waited to the side for your drink, you noticed the guy’s shirt next to you. It was a science pun shirt and you couldn’t help but let out a little giggle reading it. Suddenly, he turned and looked at you, making blush creep up your cheeks.

“Oh geez, uh sorry, I was just uh reading your shirt”, you tucked a piece of hair behind your ear and sheepishly looked at the ground.

“Oh”, the guy looked down to remember what shirt he had on.

“I like it”, you gave him a friendly smile.

He scratched the back of his head nervously, “Re-really? People usually think it’s lame.”

“No way, it’s cool”, you said shocked. “Are you a big science guy?”, you asked curiously.

“Yeah I love science. I went to a high school that solely focused on the field of science”, he fiddled with his hands.

“Oh that’s so awesome!”, you said with enthusiasm. Gosh this guy was cute, and smart?! What a jackpot! Without even thinking you asked, “So what’s your name?”

“PETER!”, another guy called from behind him. “Oh my gosh, are you (Y/N) Stark?”

You quickly put a hand over the stranger’s mouth, “Not so loud”, you whispered.

“Oh so sorry”, he whispered. “Could I take a picture with you?”,he asked.

“Uh, yeah”, you laughed.

He stood next to you and said, “I’m Ned, that’s my friend Peter.”

“Oh nice to meet you”, you laughed. The two of you posed with finger guns for the picture.

When Ned looked down at the photo a smile grew on his face, “This is awesome thank you so much!”

“You’re welcome”, then you motioned to Peter, “Do you want a picture?”

“No, no I’m good”, he declined.

“Hm, okay!”

Happy came up behind you with your drink. “Here you go, kid”, he said. But when he looked at Peter he almost spit his coffee, “Peter?!”

“Happy!”, Peter said nervously.

“You two know each other?”, you asked suspiciously.

“Uh he-”, Happy tried to think of an excuse. “He is my…... nephew”, Happy finally blurted out.

“Yeaaah, great old Uncle Happy”, Peter laughed nervously. Happy frowned at Peter for saying old.

“Uh alright”, you laughed awkwardly.

“Come on Happs, we got all the drinks”, Pepper said looking at her phone.

“Bye, Peter and Ned! It was nice meeting you two!”, you gave them a wave.

“Dude did (Y/N) Stark, compliment your lame shirt?”, Ned laughed.

“She said it was cool”, Peter frowned. Then his phone vibrated to see he got a text from Happy.

Happy- “What are you doing here?!”

Peter- “I’m just out with some friends!!”

Happy- “Does she know you’re Spider-man?”

Peter- “No, she just said she liked my shirt.”

Happy- “Really?”

Peter- “Yes! I swear!”

Happy- “Okay, you’re going to the party tonight, right?

Peter- “Party?”

Happy- “Seriously?”

Mr. Stark has been added to the group chat.

Happy- “I thought you told the kid about the party”

Mr.Stark- “I did”

Peter- “Sorry, Mr.Stark but you never did.”

Mr.Stark- “Oh my bad, I never hit send.”

Peter- “So about this party, I don’t think I can go.”

Happy- “You don’t even know any details yet.”

Mr.Stark- “Yeah, you don’t really have an option kid.”

Happy- “Do you really think we would believe you have better things to do than go to a Stark party?

Peter- “Well….”

Mr.Stark- “Look it’s my little angels birthday party today, and I promised she would get to meet who Spider-Man was. So you have to go, unless you want that suit taken away.”

Peter- “Oh, well in that case, when’s the party?”

Mr.Stark- “It starts at 7, we will pick you up at 6. Dress nice, and bring a sleepover bag.”

Peter- “Oh okay, thank you for the invite Mr.Stark.”

Peter shook his head in disbelief, was he really going to be at a party with a bunch of superheroes, AS PETER PARKER?

tagged: @elaacreditava @harleyquinnandscarletwitch @randisnotonfire @theperksofbeingyourmum @redstarstan @mamallama613 @peter-pan-hoe @alexiajmariani

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seriouslyhooked · 8 years

Text

False Alarms (A CS AU) Part 4/?

Modern AU where Emma is a Boston police detective and Killian is firefighter. They both get called to a fire in progress but it ends up being a false alarm, however there can be no denying the sparks between them. Includes fluff and my usual attempts at humor as well as a touch of fake-dating and meddling friends. Inspired by the song ‘False Alarm’ by Motoma and Becky Hill. Rated M for future chapters.

Part One, Part Two, Part Three ; Also on Fanfiction Here.

A/N: Hey all! This chapter was originally going to bring us to the two first dates, but I ended up writing a lot more for the first one than expected. As such this chapter just looks at their real first date from Emma’s POV. Next chapter we will get banquet from Killian’s POV and that will show us some of the strangeness of this whole fake dating dynamic. Anyway, I hope you all enjoy and thanks for reading!

“I still can’t believe you - Emma Nolan - said yes to a date. I mean the level of shock I am experiencing right now knows no bounds. It’s like that time we found out the people breaking into all those Baskin Robbins shops were old ladies just chasing a high. That’s how crazy it is that you’re going on an actual date.”

The commentary from her best friend made Emma’s already present butterflies spring back up to the surface. Truth be told, Emma had been fighting off these nerves all day, and the anticipation of the evening before her had been on her mind constantly, but she was purposely avoiding direct mention of it.

Clearly Ruby hadn’t gotten that memo, and she was not only bringing up Emma’s impending date, but comparing it to one of the most insane busts they’d ever made while on the force. Now Emma almost regretted telling Ruby the whole truth about this fake/possibly real dating with Killian. Not that Ruby hadn’t had her suspicions. She was Emma’s best friend and upon seeing the photo in the paper with the caption claiming she ad Killian were an item, Ruby immediately knew that the story was bogus. Emma was not dating Killian Jones, because if she were, Ruby would know and she would have already given Emma enough grief to last a lifetime.

“Ruby, it’s not like I’m a hermit.”

“Never said you were, but you know what an actual date entails right?” Her friend asked before filling in the details herself. “Flowers, food, wine… the man is going to open doors for you and pull out your chair. This isn’t some ‘we met in a bar and skipped the last names’ hook up. Your Sergeant is going hot and heavy on this, I guarantee it.”

“He’s not my anything, Ruby,” Emma professed, and then she began rambling more for the sake of not getting her own hopes up than Ruby’s. “This is just dinner. Honestly we’ll probably both realize that there’s nothing beneath the surface of whatever this is, we’ll learn a few details about each other to get us through my parents’ insane PR idea, and then we’ll go our separate ways.”

Emma felt a bad taste accruing in her mouth as she uttered these words, probably because they were so clearly false. Emma was actually hoping that everything she’d just said would be proved incorrect tonight. After a few days of texting and building the excitement, Emma was eager to see where Killian would take her and to get the chance to find out more about him. She had the basics of course (her status as a detective wouldn’t allow her to not do a little digging after all) but she didn’t know the man underneath that swagger and charm, at least not yet.

“Oh sure. You wore your best dress for a guy you know will be a dud. Totally believable.” Ruby flopped down on the chair in Emma’s living room waving her hand in the air like she couldn’t even entertain that thought being in the air around her.

Emma looked back down at the classic black dress she had on and she bit back a smile. Ruby was right. This was her best dress, and Emma had chosen it for that reason. Then she’d gotten frustrated at herself for not having more color in her closet. If ever there was a time to liven it up a bit that time was now, but aside from the gown she’d worn for the gala, Emma wasn’t exactly racking up bright ensembles.

“Is that your way of saying I look okay?” Emma asked and Ruby scoffed.

“You look hot as hell and you know it, Emma. Just get out of your own head, and whatever you do don’t tell that story about tazing that guy Belle set you up with.”

It probably shouldn’t make Emma smile to think back on that night. It had been the single worst date she had ever been on, and she only went because their friend Belle had been begging to set Emma up for months, but even Emma couldn’t dream up that ending. An unintelligent, borderline rude, self-absorbed guy talking her ear off about stocks all night was one thing, but when she found out he had a warrant out for his arrest in three states for fraud and then he tried to pull a butter knife on her for confronting him, it really clinched the title of most horrific date ever. Emma’s one silver lining had been tazing him when he tried to get away from her and the backup she’d called in, and all these years later that was the part of the story that stuck with her most. He’d made a hilarious sound when going down, and she’d taken just a tiny bit of joy in that pain. He’d been a real asshole after all and he’d conned a lot of people out of their hard-earned money, thus the warrants.

“Really? It’s a pretty good story. I could just leave out the part about how he lost a testicle,” Emma joked and Ruby looked liable to launch into a big long speech about why it wasn’t when she realized Emma was kidding.

“Very funny,” Ruby said, and right then the buzzer for Emma’s apartment went off.

“Shit he’s on time!” Emma yelled, not realizing that was a thing. Then again she never let anyone meet her at her apartment so maybe she should have known. Emma glanced around trying to figure out if she needed anything else as Ruby laughed and put her hands on Emma’s shoulders.

“Emma, chill. You are going to be great. Your instincts are never wrong, and you like this guy, so trust that. Plus he has a great date planned for you,” Ruby tossed in that last part off-handedly as she grabbed her coat to go.

“Wait! How do you know about the date?” Emma asked, frustrated that her friend had known all of this time and never mentioned anything until right now.

“Graham told me.” Ruby said that like it was completely obvious.

“Of course he did. You know I’m gonna get you back for not telling me when you knew I was stressing about what to wear, right?”

Emma’s threat was mostly empty, but there were a few ideas rattling around in her head about ways to even the score with Ruby, like bringing her lunch all next week and not giving Ruby the leftovers, or getting to the station house early every day so she got to drive and Ruby had to sit on the passenger side.

“You’ll be singing a different tune after tonight, girl. Now buzz the man up or he’ll freeze out there.”

Emma heeded her friend’s advice and she used the last thirty seconds or so to get herself together. She heard the distant sound of Ruby greeting Killian in the hall and him saying hello back, but when he knocked on the door, Emma felt her heart leap. This was it. She was actually going on a date with the guy her parents insisted she fake date. Emma shook away that line of thinking, trying to avoid the headache that came whenever she lingered on it. Instead she opened the door, and felt the air rush out of her lungs when she saw Killian.

Hot did not do this man justice, and Emma had a moment where she just stared. Taking him in and seeing the way he looked somehow better than he had in either a tux or his fire gear, Emma felt completely overwhelmed. Honestly it just wasn’t fair. No guy had a right to look this good or to walk this line between formal and casual, but Emma’s one real consolation was that as obvious as her staring was, Killian’s was just as bad, and he got a hold of himself only after she said hello.

“You look stunning, Emma,” Killian finally said and Emma knew that he meant it, which escalated the flips her stomach was doing right now.

“Thanks, you look…”

“I know,” Killian added easily and though it was a cockier thing to say, Emma could sense he’d done it to help cut through some of this fog between them. Then he handed her a bouquet of flowers that were beautiful, and again, unexpected. “These are for you, love. I know you said flowers weren’t really your thing when you texted but-,”

“I lied,” Emma confessed and then looked back up to him. “I love flowers. Or at least ones like this. But if you’d walked in here with an armful of those artificially colored daisies…”

“I shudder at the thought. No, these I chose for one reason. They reminded me of you, and the dress you wore at the gala. One look and I knew I couldn’t walk away from something so beautiful.”

Emma felt herself blush at the compliment that might have been construed as being about flowers but Emma knew was really about her. She snuck inside to put the blossoms in water quickly before coming back and taking his outstretched hand. There was only the briefest of hesitations on Emma’s part, but when her hand was safely in his, Emma had no regrets. Wherever tonight was headed, she wanted to go there, to see once and for all if these feelings she’d been carrying since meeting Killian could add up to something more.

Despite the fears Emma had about first date conversation and her own often bumbling awkwardness, Emma found herself really enjoying the company, and after a few requisite jokes about him knowing how to drive on the right side of the road, Emma eased into the dynamic between them. She was actually so comfortable that she neglected to notice their surroundings until they were already about twenty minutes outside of the city. Sensing her surprise, Killian commented on the decision to leave Boston tonight.

“I figured there would be a little more peace of mind if we left behind your parents’ stomping grounds. And to be honest, I was hoping to take you somewhere you’ve never been. As a native of the city, that seemed a harder prospect within Boston’s city limits.”

“That was a good call. So where are we going then?”

“Just outside of your parents’ kingdom,” Killian joked and then nodded. “Actually we’re already here.”

Emma peered through the windshield and watched as the roads they’d been on gave way to a beachfront property in the style of an old Victorian mansion. The beautiful blue color of the old home was crisp and clean even now in the winter months, and though there was snow on the ground, it was less extensive than back in the city thanks to the ocean being so close. The sun was long gone, but on a night like this one when the moon was full and the stars were out in full force, and when the old lanterns the house boasted were lit and lining the pathway to the front steps, this was a truly spectacular view.

“Want to go inside?” Killian asked when he’d parked the car and Emma was still just staring at the house. She nodded, allowing him to grab her door for her and lead her towards their destination.

The interior of this home was no less amazing than the outside, but Emma was amazed to find that it wasn’t a home or a hotel, but a restaurant. The sign at the door read Arendelle Café but that last word didn’t do this place justice. It was torn from the pages of a historically accurate period piece set here in New England, but it was also warm and inviting. The fireplaces were lit, and the seasonal decorations remained while the house was filled with a smell of really yummy, and exceptionally comforting food.

“There’s something I should probably tell you before we begin, love,” Killian said, suddenly sounding a little nervous and Emma looked at him with a smile, kind of enjoying his being thrown off balance.

“Oh?” Emma prompted, but before Killian could respond, a small woman with big eyes and a very expressive face arrived, looking positively joyous at their coming.

“Killian, you made it! And you must be Emma. We’ve heard so much about you. I’m Anna. And this is…” Emma watched as the woman looked around and then rolled her eyes. “My husband Kristoff was here a second ago, but with that man he’s here one second and distracted by something shiny the next.”

Emma swore she heard Killian cursing under his breath and muttering about Anna being too pushy for her own good, but Emma just gave him a look before extending her hand in greeting to the woman, who though very enthusiastic, was also kind and easy going.

“It’s nice to meet you, Anna. This place is beautiful. Is it yours?” Emma asked and Anna beamed with pride and nodded in response.

“Sure is! It’s been in the family for a long time, but I finally convinced Elsa to let me make it into this. It wasn’t like she and Liam were ever going to move out of the city, and a home like this one deserves to be lived in, even if people only stay for a little while at a time.”

“Liam?” Emma asked, this time to Killian and he scratched behind his ear. That name had come up a few times in their drive up here, but never in regards to their date specifically. What did Killian’s brother potentially have to do with this?

“As I was trying to tell you love, Anna here is my brother’s wife’s sister. Though I was informed that she and Kristoff were off tonight.”

Well shit. Did that change things? Emma wondered. Because now she was meeting his sort-of family and it was only a first date. Then again, Killian had already met her Dad, and he hadn’t been nearly as excited or inviting as Anna was being right now. The way Emma saw it that were probably even.

“We are off. We just wanted to see the girl you’ve been chatting up so much to Elsa. I swear we were going to be sneakier about it, maybe just do a tiny bit of spying from the back when you guys walked in, but then there was a scheduling issue and I was out here in the open. Next thing I knew you were here,” Anna offered, like all of that was totally normal to say to someone. Emma couldn’t help smiling though, because even if it was bizarre, she had to admit there was a definite humor wrapped up this reception.

“A likely story. Now, Anna, I beg of you, can you just show us to our table and put me out of my misery? Here I was half way to convincing Emma I’m a catch and then you come and muddle it all up.”

Emma rolled her eyes at Killian’s claim (even if he was technically right about her being closer to accepting that this attraction between them wasn’t going to be fading away any time soon) and the gesture pulled a huge grin to Anna’s face. She seemed about to make more comments when a man came up behind her and put his hand on her shoulder. From the easy affection between him and Anna, Emma assumed this was Anna’s husband Kristoff.

“I think we’ve done enough damage tonight, Anna. Let’s give them a fighting chance, alright?”

“Oh alright. It was nice meeting you, Emma,” Anna offered honestly and Emma nodded.

“You too, Anna.”

From there Killian made his goodbyes to Anna and Kristoff and then an attendant brought Killian and Emma to their table. They were completely alone here in a private room with a wall of windows in antique design clearly made new. That theme of restoring tradition while adding a timely feel carried through all of the furnishings here, but the best part of this space was they had a view of the water here, but also the intimacy of one of those fireplaces crackling off to the side. Emma had to admit it was incredibly romantic. As someone who largely avoided romance, she was stunned at just how nice it was without being too exaggerated or over the top.

“Be honest with me, love. How dismayed at you over that display? I knew it was a risk bringing you here, but I hoped to avoid all that and just show you a good time.” Killian posed the question as he pulled Emma’s chair out for her and she immediately thought back to Ruby’s words from earlier about what made something a real date before sending him a smile.

“It was actually kind of nice to see I’m not the only one with a family who doesn’t know how to respect boundaries.”

Emma’s words allowed for a clear sense of relief to settle on Killian’s features, and Emma was glad to give him that. She was so eager to see him enjoying himself actually, that she reached for his hand across the table much to both of their surprise, but he didn’t pull back, instead running his thumb across her knuckles lightly.

“Is that a typical problem in your world, Emma? I know the comparisons to their success have caused you trouble, but don’t tell me they’re also – what’s the term – helicopter parents?” Killian’s musings pulled a real laugh from Emma, because he’d hit the nail on the head with that word choice.

“You have no idea. Don’t get me wrong I love my parents, but they’re just ever-present, you know? They hate thinking that there’s something about me they don’t know and my mother is a world class detective, so there rarely ever is.”

Emma left unspoken how this date was even more risky in that regard because Killian already knew that. It was why he’d taken her out of the city, and as someone who had lived here for only a brief amount of time, Emma was amazed that he’d found them somewhere so beautiful to go, even if it did have a tie to his family. This was perfect, and Emma was already feeling her old worries of being found out easing away.

“Aye. I think if we put them in a room with my brother and Elsa, it would be a show down of who can love their family more. I’m not sure who would win.”

The idea made Emma laugh again because she’d seen Killian’s brother and sister-in-law in passing at the state house on the rare occasions that her testimony brought her out to that district in the city. They were both hard working from what she knew, and damn good ADAs. There was even talk of Liam ascending to the District Attorney position some day, but who knew? Maybe Elsa would be the one to take the job. Either way it was funny to think of her parents taking on two lawyers and trying to prove they loved her more than Liam and Elsa loved Killian.

At that moment the waiter came to take their order and Emma realized she hadn’t even looked at the menu. She ended up deciding to trust the special as Killian did, and she accepted the glass of wine that came from the bottle the chef recommended with that dish. It was a perfect blend, not too sweet or too dry, but just right, and Emma felt herself relaxing as she stole a sip of it. Meanwhile, Killian watched her curiously.

“Something on your mind?” Emma asked, and Killian took her question as permission to launch into an unexpected confession.

“Look, Emma,” Killian began, his sincerity and seriousness showing on his face. “I want you to know that I’m not sitting here fearful of your parents finding out about us or about this. I don’t need this to be a secret. I’m not worried about my job or reputation or anything of the like. But I know the position you’re in and that there are still some walls I’ve got to get past before you can trust me enough to choose me. Maybe not tonight, maybe not tomorrow, but someday I’m hoping you’ll be sure enough in me to do so.”

Emma hardly knew how to respond to that. It was an abrupt stream of honest feelings from a man she was still getting to know, yet who seemed so sure of her already. It perplexed Emma how Killian could appear so certain. He was talking about choices and by association commitment, and Emma knew that if she asked him the same question he’d choose her without hesitation. But he also seemed to respect that she wasn’t someone who moved so quickly, at least not in instances where her heart was truly engaged. It was almost like he needed to be honest with her, and she respected that even if his ability to give himself away so freely scared her a little.

“So you’re planning to stick around long enough for me to make that choice?” The idea was so foreign to Emma, because she just didn’t have romantic interests in her life who stayed. Recently that was her choice, but there were a couple of guys in her past who had ended things before she could, either because of her parents or because of their own asshole tendencies.

“Aye.” That one word held so much promise that Emma swore she felt the impact in her chest.

“And you’re ready to say that, even though we’ve barely even started this date?” Emma asked, her voice thick with emotion.

“I was ready to say that since that day on the fire escape, love. Granted I didn’t ever think to myself that we’d be fake dating at the same time I try to woo you for real…” Emma laughed as Killian trailed off and then he raised her hand up to kiss and finished his thought. “But I did think you were different and I knew I’d never forgive myself if I didn’t try and chase that feeling I found with you out there that day. That same one that keeps cropping up every time you’re near.”

“And what feeling is that?” Killian’s thumb ran along her wrist, pulling a flurry of sensation from her and a tiny shiver of desire as well.

“Like this is right. Honestly I’m out of my depths here, love. Until last week I thought myself content with just my work and nothing else. But now that’s all changed.”

“Because of me.”

Emma filled in that part definitively, but saying it out loud didn’t make it any less remarkable. It was so much for him to say so early, but even if his hints at making this last triggered old anxieties, the resounding feeling in Emma’s heart was relief because she trusted Killian and because she valued his not making this a game. These weren’t the words of a man going after his Fire Chief’s daughter just because. They were those of a person who was risking a bit of himself to potentially find happiness with her.

“Yes, because of you. Now, tell me I haven’t just made a huge mistake in saying all that,” Killian’s eyes portrayed a desperation that his tone concealed slightly better.

“You haven’t. I’m still here right?” Emma asked, squeezing his hand lightly.

“Astonishingly yes.” Emma smiled at Killian’s tone of wonder, like it was some kind of miracle that she wasn’t sprinting away form him. Come to think of it, it just might be given her track record.

“Well for the sake of honesty, you should know I don’t do this,” Emma admitted.

“What have dinner?” Killian joked and Emma smiled.

“No, I don’t have dinner with guys who openly admit to liking me and wanting to build something with me before we so much as hit the salad course. Call it a quirk, but it’s not my usual M.O.” Emma didn’t know what he’d do with her blunt statement, but the laugh that Killian rewarded her confession with made her feel so much better.

“I think it’s fair to say we’re wading through an unusual situation, love.”

Emma felt the same pulse of excitement at his use of that endearment. It always caught her by surprise, but the way that word sounded falling past Killian’s lips warmed her up inside. She was in serious trouble, but the only comfort for her quickly slipping control was that Killian seemed to be right there with her.

“Is that what you’d call it? I’d say it’s more nightmarish. I mean you realize that tomorrow it’s going to be me, you, my parents, and about a hundred other cops who all know me and my family, right? Some of these people have known me since I was a kid, and most of them are going to be overbearing and nosey in a monumental way.”

“I wasn’t speaking of that particular element, Emma. I was thinking more of the two of us. This spark between us isn’t your run of the mill, fleeting interest, at least not on my end.”

How any one could maneuver Emma from the disgruntled worries she’d slipped into from mentioning tomorrow’s banquet to this soft, melting person so quickly Emma didn’t know but Killian had done it. He managed to pull her from the mire of the mess her parents made and back into this date. No one else had ever brought her clarity like this, and it was intoxicating, to feel so much and yet not be totally petrified into making a run for the nearest exit.

“So you don’t go hitting on women on fire escapes very often?” Emma asked and Killian shook his head.

“You’re the first,” Killian confirmed and Emma smiled.

“Good. Let’s keep it that way, Sergeant.”

Emma’s flirtatious words set them off into the rest of a beautiful evening and the night that followed blew all of Emma’s expectations out of the water. The food was fantastic, the wine just as good, but Killian’s company was the best part of all. He was witty and funny, kind but able to give himself and others a fair bit of grief in the stories he told, and more than anything he knew when she wanted him to listen and when Emma began to feel slightly too exposed. It was astounding, watching him navigate every topic like an expert in her and her wants and needs, and by the time dessert was pulled away, Emma felt like she’d given Killian a view into her world and her mindset that very few people had.

“I have one last place I’d like to show you if you’re interested,” Killian said when the food was all cleared away and Emma could see that he was looking to her for opinions. One signal on her part that she didn’t want this and he’d toss aside his plan, but Emma did want this and she wanted to see what final thing he had in mind that could top the rest of this evening.

“Lead the way,” Emma said, accepting his hand again and following Killian through different corridors he seemed to know and up three flights of steps and into a final room that Emma never would have expected.

Like the room downstairs where they ate dinner, this room was home to a multitude of windows but not just along the walls. There were extensive skylights that were crystal clear, and though this structure posed a clear difference from the original design of the house, the end result was amazing. There were a sea of stars above them, and from this height the overlook out into the sea was further. At this vantage, the shores around them could be clearly seen cast in that same pale white light from the moon, and looking almost ethereal in their pale glow.

“I’m told sunrise over the water here is breathtaking, but to be honest, I’ve always preferred the stars.” Killian’s words were whispered, but with him standing so close, Emma could feel the rumble of his chest and the vibration of his cadence singing through her.

“Yeah, I’ve never been a fan of early mornings,” Emma replied in an attempted joke as Killian led her to the best spot by the gorgeous overseeing windows. In that spot there was a perfect view of the sea and stars together, and with the light pollution of the city far enough away, Emma swore she could see every constellation.

Emma took it all in, marveling at everything up here, but it only took a few seconds for her to be distracted by Killian’s closeness and the way it felt good to have him here. He was this strong, imposing presence, but there was no threat in his being so near. It felt good. Better than good actually. It felt like Killian had been entirely correct when he said this thing between them was right. It worked for whatever reason, and Emma didn’t feel the need to question it. Instead she wanted to explore it.

“What did you used to wish for?” Emma asked, turning back to Killian and seeing his eyes had never strayed from her face. “As a kid, when the first star appeared in the sky?”

“It varied. Sometimes I wanted my Mum to buy more dessert than she was given to and for her to bestow it all to me before Liam could find it and eat it all as he usually did. Other times I wanted school cancelled for any old reason. It didn’t matter which one as long as I didn’t have to sit through history or Latin.” Emma laughed at his choices, knowing she’d had a fair share of similar wishes.

“No ponies or puppies for you?” Emma asked and Killian smiled.

“Definitely no to the former, but I think I asked for a dog once or twice, and by once or twice I mean a few dozen times,” Emma chuckled again, knowing she’d asked at least a hundred times for one. But her Mom was allergic, and by the time she was out on her own Emma was working crazy hours at the precinct.

“Sometimes I wish I could go back to that age, when everything seems possible. When the most ridiculous wish has a shot of being answered just because you want it bad enough.” Emma admitted, thoughtfully. She expected agreement from Killian, but instead he moved closer to her, his hand reaching out to cup her cheek.

“And what do you want, Emma? In your heart, what’s the one thing you want most right now?”

The question filled the space between them, and though there were arguably dozens of things that Emma might want in her life, there was only one thing she could think of right now. She decided to go for it and see if maybe she might make her wish a reality. She moved closer to Killian, pulling him down by the vest he was wearing and kissing him the way she’d wanted to since first stumbling into him on that fire escape.

To call this a kiss was almost too tame, for the fire behind it was intense and burning brighter than anything Emma knew. It was the culmination of all the back and forth they’d had going for a while now, and it delivered every ounce of interest, and every drop of chemistry that had been flowing between the two of them all that time. Emma felt branded by his lips on hers and the way Killian pulled her flush against him, inciting her whole body into a flurry of unbridled need.

Never had a first kiss held so much promise and so much satisfaction. There was just something about the way Killian tasted and the way he gave as much as he took that set her whole body aching for more. Yet that didn’t compare at all to the look in Killian’s eyes when they broke away. There, swirling in the dark blue pools that Emma couldn’t get enough of, was so much feeling and emotion and heart it made Emma believe in things again. Things that she hadn’t ever considered (about finding the one person who was right for her or who could make her world better) since she was a little girl who loved fairytales and stories about magic.

“Did that answer your question?” Emma finally asked, watching Killian’s triumphant grin appear when she did.

“Aye, love. It certainly did.”

After a little while longer spent there under the stars talking and stealing a few more of those invigorating kisses, Killian and Emma both decided it was time to head back. But when their drive back into the city came to an end, and Killian had walked Emma up to her front door once more, there was a feeling of not wanting things to end just yet that Emma knew they both felt together. Her hand was in Killian’s, and she tilted her head up to meet his gaze, seeing the same barely restrained passion on his face that she felt simmering inside her.

“You know we never got to have that drink that you mentioned at the gala. We could remedy that now if you want to come in,” Emma proposed, knowing that there would be a whole lot more than a drink if he said yes, and not caring in the slightest. Sex on the first date was totally fine with her. Actually it was pretty damn necessary given all the things that she was feeling.

“I thought you’d never ask,” Killian teased and Emma opened up the door, letting him inside, and the second the door shut behind them they were on each other again.

This kiss was able to move faster than the one before, and the slow perusal they were allowed back at the restaurant, gave over to something more demanding and needy on both sides. Emma reveled in the feeling that she was swept up in Killian and he was just as wrapped up in her. It was a total rush, but still it wasn’t enough. They moved to the couch, and the next thing Emma knew, Killian was above her, and she was arching closer, needing things to speed up and for him to meet her at the edge where she was already residing. The feeling of his hands on her body and his warmth above her made Emma crave so much more.

“Emma, much as I might like to continue this, I think maybe we should -,”

Emma knew he was going to say something about waiting (because if ever she’d met a guy who would play the gentleman card it would be Killian), but before she could try and convince him to live a little dangerously, the buzzer to her apartment went off, announcing someone’s request to get in from downstairs.

“Expecting someone?” Killian asked humorously and Emma shook her head, assuming it was maybe someone for another tenant, before hearing the voices that crackled through the speaker.

“Emma, honey, it’s Mom and Dad. Your car is out front and the light is on in your room so we know you’re up. Let us in.” Her mother’s voice was way too chipper for this time of night and it cut through the moment she’d just been enjoying with Killian so quickly, Emma felt like she had whiplash.

“Shit!”

Emma jumped up from the couch, trying to figure out what the hell to do in a dreadful scenario like this one. There was no second way out of the building currently because of construction in the back alley, and the snow outside meant Killian’s shimmying down the tree by her bedroom window was also out. Crap! Emma never had a situation like this before. Hell she’d never even had a guy in her room at home all those years. She had no experience to go off of, and a rapidly dwindling window of time to find a solution.

“How do you want to play this?” Killian asked and Emma found herself rushing around trying to figure out what to do. In a second a plan formed, but it was bad. Honestly it would probably fail miserably, but it was the only one she had and she needed Killian to go along with her on this. She grabbed his hand and pulled him into her bedroom, putting him in there and pushing him down on the bed, ignoring the continued smile on his face when she did.

“Look we’ve got two choices. Either you are super quiet and stay in here for five minutes while I get rid of them-,” Killian cut her off with a smile and a joke.

“You’re sure I can stay in here, love? Perhaps the fire escape would be more appropriate.” At another moment Emma would no doubt find that reference to their first meeting to be sweet or hilarious, but right now she was damn close to a full-blown panic.

“Or you explain to my Dad why you’re in my apartment late at night after a first date.” The humor from Killian’s face drained somewhat and he nodded.

“Good thinking, love. I won’t make a sound.”

“Emma?” Her mother’s voice came through as the buzzer sounded in her apartment again and Emma groaned as she opened her drawers up looking for the tools she needed to look un-date like in thirty seconds.

“Why don’t you just use the key?” Emma’s father said through the speaker, reminding Emma on some level that even if this was a nightmare it could have been so much worse because her Dad had a good point – what would have happened if her parents just walked in? Emma couldn’t stand thinking about it.

“I can’t find it,” Mary Margaret countered through the speaker.

“Can’t find it? But you never lose anything,” David said skeptically.

“Well there’s a first time for everything. Emma?” Emma ran back to the intercom.

“Hi, guys sorry. Come on up.” She pressed the button to let them in without another word and then ran back into her room.

Emma tried to make herself appear as normal as possible in the thirty seconds she had. She threw on a ratty pair of sweatpants and grabbed her bathrobe quickly, not even bothering to take off her dress as she tossed her hair up in a messy bun. She didn’t have time to wash off her makeup or anything like that, but she did spare Killian one last look and a truly apologetic expression.

“If we survive this, remind me to tell you how sorry I am and to thank you for everything that happened before this moment,” she said, shutting the door to her room before he could respond. She quickly turned on the TV and took one last glance in the reflection she saw in the window and sighed. God how had everything gone so wrong so quickly?

Just a moment later her parents knocked at her door, and Emma took a big breath in. She wasn’t well versed in lying to her parents by any means. Emma always preferred honesty and felt like to deserve the truth you had to speak the truth, but right now she was on a different level. All she could think about was getting them out quickly and none the wiser of her evening, and if she could pull that off she would finally be able to breathe again. She opened the door, ready to face whatever may come.

“Oh Emma, there you are. But look at you - you’re all red! Are you feeling all right?” Emma nodded, jerking back before her mother could put a hand on her forehead and check her temperature.

“I’m fine. Just really tired. What are you two doing out so late?”

“You make us sound so old,” Her Dad said hugging her quickly. “Your mother wanted cannoli and so we got some. We thought you might like some too.”

“Okay well thank you,” Emma said taking the box as her parents came in and made themselves comfortable. Emma noticed then that Killian’s jacket was still out here and she immediately ripped it from the couch before either of her parents saw it and chucked it to the ground behind her.

“You don’t want to eat it now?” Her Dad asked curiously, turning back to Emma. “You love everything from Mike’s.”

“I know, but I was actually all ready to get to bed. That much sugar so late and I’ll be up all night.”

“I didn’t think you were working tomorrow,” her mother replied, looking around the house as if searching for something, her eyes finally landing on Emma’s bedroom door, but she looked away and then Emma believed she might actually be getting away with it.

“I’m not but Ruby and I have plans so…” That wasn’t technically a lie, right? Especially since after this fiasco, she’d need grief counseling from her best friend to survive the mortification of this moment.

“Well in that case we won’t keep you. But we’ll see you tomorrow night, right?” Her father asked and Emma nodded.

“Yup. Wouldn’t miss it,” Emma replied, feeling profound joy as her Dad turned towards the front door.

“Her and Killian, David. Don’t forget, our Emma’s got a date,” Mary Margaret added, looking downright gleeful at the thought of Emma on a fake date with the man who was currently hiding in her bedroom.

“How could I forget?” her father grumbled, giving Emma a hug before heading into the hallway and leaving Emma with just her mother.

“I’m sorry honey, we shouldn’t have come over unannounced like this.”

“No Mom, it’s fine, really -,” Her mother squeezed Emma’s hand affectionately as a kinder way of cutting her off.

“It isn’t. We should have called first instead of assuming you didn’t have plans. I’ll try to remember for next time, okay? I love you.” With that and a final pat on Emma’s cheek, Mary Margaret Nolan left to meet her husband in the hallway, leaving Emma shaken but also slightly hopeful. Maybe she’d gotten away with this after all.

The moment that Emma closed the door behind her parents she felt herself slumping against it, totally and completely frazzled. On the one hand she was thanking every power in the universe that they (or at the very least her father) hadn’t realized Killian was here, but on the other she was so angry and terrified that they’d come at all. What they believed would be a thoughtful, well-received surprise had just thoroughly upended a night that was going really well. Now Emma had to face the music of that and hope that Killian wasn’t about to cut and run.

Turning around at the sound of her bedroom door opening again, Emma didn’t know what to say or do, but then she saw Killian’s smile and she froze. Wait was he laughing right now?

“Well I think I can safely say that’s not where I imagined the evening going. But it does make for a hell of a tale,” Killian said easily, and though he appeared rather laid back given the circumstances, Emma still felt a swell of anxiety.

“I’m pretty sure this is the part where you run for the hills and tell me that this is way more than you bargained for,” Emma said, resigned to the fact that this would likely happen, but then Killian was moving towards her and taking her into his arms again. His hand gently moved her chin up to look at him, and Emma held her breath in anticipation of what he would say.

“On the contrary, this is the part where I tell you that despite the familial surprises I had a wonderful time tonight. I can’t remember a better evening to be honest, twists in the road and all. It’s also the part where I beg you to consider more dates with me in the future because I don’t think one night like this could ever be enough.”

Emma responded to that request with the only answer she could fathom, another kiss that silently sealed her want to do that too. She poured a lot into that kiss: gratefulness for his being so cool about everything, joy at the fact that they’d come out of that relatively unscathed, and the bit more trust he’d earned by proving himself to be a good guy in this moment. Still, when Emma pulled back, she thought Killian deserved to hear her agreement as well as feel it.

“I’d like that. But maybe next time we go to your place at the end of the night?” Emma asked and Killian laughed. Emma knew he’d just found an apartment to move into since he’d mentioned it at dinner, and though it seemed inconsequential before, it was suddenly such a necessary turn of events.

“I think we can manage that,” Killian confirmed, his hand running over the small of her back soothingly. Emma immediately regretted this damn bathrobe, but she was too happy at the fact that he was still interested to feel truly bad about it.

“So I’ll see you tomorrow?” Emma asked.

“Tomorrow it is,” Killian agreed and with one last goodbye, he was out the door and Emma was left alone to replay what had easily been one of the best (but also craziest) nights of her life.

Post-Note: So there we have it. I am having a lot of fun with this AU so far, mostly because it’s not like anything else I am writing or have written before. This chapter was a little closer to stories I have done in the past (because first date fluff is always a necessity), but between the ending and the banquet which I will be writing about next chapter, I am putting CS in the line of some interesting obstacles. Hopefully you guys are enjoying the story and let me know what you all thought!

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unworthy-stars · 8 years

Text

Chapter One- “Ai Ya Ya”

Chapter One "Ai Ya Ya"~ Crimson Red

第一章 "哎呀呀" ~ 深红色

There was a beneficial and great era of my country called the Qing Dynasty, ...

When is that Wang?

It is...hm...remember Catherine the Great?

Da! Such an enlighting and heroic era, the Russian Enlightment was? She is one of my favourite bosses!

Around then...

~*~

A holy day of February, the day of the Yuanxiao Festival. Always one of the happiest and most cheerful festivals in China. People from all social rankings gathered together to spend the day, creating simple lanterns to join the emperor and his family together with the noblemen in the game the children were triggered to play each year.

China was taking a stroll before the official beginning. He would join Emperor Qianlong and the rest of the noblemen in the official start, but he didn't care. He could appear decently in a matter of seconds, in contrast with most of the fine class men. His official chaofu wasn't that hard to wear by himself even in his age he wouldn't be alive if he wasn't a country. His hair wasn't that bad, and a simple but elegant semi-ponytail would do.

Walking around the peaceful but loud scenery of Beijing and watching the people of his country happy and united made him smile and enjoy the rest of the day. Seeing everyone excited was his first and only priority. And that specific day, he always achieved it. Everyone seemed happy and strong, for his eyes...the best thing that had ever happened.

A few children trying to guess riddles to prepare for later. Women gossiping about the passengers, including himself, while they were preparing the family lantern. Men doing the last preparations for the dinner with an expression of combined tire and love. Elders play with and riddle the new generation and recall memories of their own tasks.

It was a day of joy all over China. But Beijing was the most outstanding.

China remembered he was asked by the emperor to attend his palace before the event because they had to have their usual talk before everything important for the country. All emperors seemed to be more dramatical than the other. They could barely smile. But this certain one's severe and kind-hearted personality was enough to make China like him and consider him a great ally, boss and companion.

Our protagonist arrived earlier than the supposed time of the arrangement, but a sweet and polite servant informed him the emperor didn't rush and he could wander around freely in the Forbidden City, in which he had full access since the first time as he was the country but he prefered a more common life among the simple residents with the difference that he had the financial power to live under better conditions.

He had always found the Forbidden City an interesting place, and a shame that it wasn't open to the public. The beautiful trees and majestic lakes were only available for the emperor's eyes. The temples were designed delicately and were seen ritualistically. There was almost no one giving them a purpose, other than the servants that respectfully took care of them. It was such a disgrace to see them in a beautiful position without someone admiring them properly.

He was so devoted to his surroundings that had forgotten where he was heading too. He asked a female passerby the location that stunned him so much, even if it was the same with all the other parts of the city. Beihai Park. He would dream of the time he would be able to wander again in this wonderful location.

He saw a free boat, floating on the lake and immediately entered so fascinated to see the island in the middle of it. Jade Flower. The named sounded like music in his ears. Or he was just so obsessed with sight-seeing he didn't care how the sights were actually named. The only thing in his mind was to reach the island and capture with his memory the beauty of the park.

When the edge of the boat touched the wooden pier, China hoped outside. He took a deep breath and continued his little trip merrily. The trees seemed as old as him, even if nothing could ever reach his record. Their shadows made a darker, but mysterious and enchanting path. China looked around and noticed a small marsh at the end of an earthen alley through the wood. Curious to find the end of it, he followed it. And at the end, a pond of green waters and white lilies repaid his tire of the journey. A quick peek around was enough to realise the place was magical. He sat down by the lake and stared at the beauty he could easily pass the rest of his endless life.

'Ni hao.' a pitched voice echoed.

'Who is it?' China asked furiously because it interrupted the peace of the location.

'I-I should go...I don't know you, stranger!' the voice seemed scared, it was a child.

'You know me! Come here, I don't bite! I am an old man!' he tried to comfort it.

Out of the tree behind him, a small head appeared. Slanted eyes, specifically olives for eyes and a tiny nose were drawn on that precious pale face. The hair was left untouched and messy, touching the shoulders. The kid wore a black changyi decorated with golden and white flowers. They weren’t binding shoes, probably because it already had small feet or...

She was a Manchu.

'You don't look like an old man to me!' the little girl took a step back.

'Compared to you, I am older! Can you explain me this place?' China tried to look friendly to the frightened girl.

'I-It's just a normal marsh I come to relax. It is widely common all over China,' the girl started to approach him and when she did reach him sat beside him to connect with their surroundings together 'I am Gurun Princess Hexiao, daughter of the Emperor Qianlong and the Consort Dun,' she introduced herself.

'How can you be a Gurun princess without being a child of the Empress?' the title confused China.

'Love, I guess.' she responded 'It was a pleasure to share this moment with you, sir, but I am afraid I must prepare myself for the festival. It would be an honour to meet again, but based on my busy schedule as a princess I am afraid I don't have as much time as other ladies you could easily approach. I hope you enjoy this year's yuanxiao festival,' she wished and disappeared of China's eyes.

China saw her ran away, really fast for a girl of her age but he supposed that the cause was the binding shoes other girls wore. He tried to get up, but his back hurt. After some minutes he finally managed to stand by himself and walk to the room he possessed in the Forbidden City.

There his elegant red and gold chaofu was waiting for him and all the rest of his formal clothing were laid by it. He would be pleased to see the Emperor once more. He'd love to ask about his tenth, if he counted well, daughter too. She seemed a gentle and respectful girl the people would love.

'The Emperor waits for your presence in the main room, sir,' a servant informed him and he followed him with trust.

Seems this Emperor was different like his personality had changed since the last time they had spoken to each other. He seemed happier, maybe because of the event. And surely more open-minded. After their short talking about these years of wealth and luck that headed, the rest of the Emperor's noted men and his family, including China, entered the balcony where the event's beginning would be announced.

The routine was the same, but China enjoyed to see the excitement of all people in Beijing and other cities that came here for the festival. Every year it was a refreshed one, full of hope and pride. The elegant lantern representing the royal family was lit up and its crimson red colour filled China's heart with a warm feeling and a strong connection with his people. The cheers were the only thing China wanted to hear. The children's giggles joined them.

After the end of the event, China walked in the dark through the same path to the same hidden marsh, he had found before. This place filled him with a strange pioneering feeling.

Weiyan.

'People who witness this marsh, don't usually come back to witness it again.' the same pitched voice was heard by China who turned to the left to see her painted face and worn in an elegant bun hair.

She seemed completely changed. The previous messy, boy-like and clumsy girl was transformed into a beautiful dragon. Her face was paler than before and her cheeks took a bold shade of pink. Her slantied eyes had the same shade as the cheeks, but a long black line was separating the garnet-coloured eyes with the cheerful pink of her cheeks. The pink paint on her lips formed a heart shape.

Her changyi differed from the rest of the royal family's. She wore a purple one with pink and gold delicate butterflies and a dragon, representing the family of course. But the rest of her relatives wore the casual black and red with gold features formal clothing. Her bun had a white lily as an accessory and her nails were white.

'I am not like the others!' he replied with a smile and she giggled.

'I am not like the others too!' she left her hair fall down on her shoulders, despite the royal dressing and manners code 'I have also this!' she handed me a crimson red lantern and revealed her own too 'I haven't written riddles as the tradition says, I never liked riddles!'

The two lanterns gave a spark in the dark. The fireflies gathered too and let us experience the magic of the marsh on the Jade Flower Island at night.

The little princess touched his hand with her soft small hands and let the lantern move to his right hand. She led it upwards like the lantern would fly. And it did indeed after he let it fall of his hand. She did the same with hers and stared at the sources of light fly away together.

'The continuing radiance of crimson flames... Will never end and will continue to move forward aru!' I sang on a cheerful tune and the little one clapped.

'You sing really well! I could persuade my father change your status from a simple servant to royal singer! If you play the erhu too, I will definitely find you a job!'

I laughed really loudly 'I am happy with the position I am now, xiexie!' I messed with her hair and she smiled 'Xiexie for the amazing event, aru! I think you should head back to your room, princess Hexiao!'

'My name is Ori Sasithorn Wei,' she ran away.

~*~

Ah! And so this little girl was the one who ran away from you Wang!

Yes, but the yuanxiao festival that year didn't happen to fall on a lunar eclipse!

Oh...so when did she left?

I have a lot to explain! It isn't a short story! Be patient!

#ai ya ya #fanfiction #the-awesome-sia #hetalia #aph #hetalia axis powers

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