#idk that i'll ever write this one [she says like a liar] but it's stuck in that ole craw

[desperatepleasures]

by the way, i went [checks notes] nine entire days between posting my last horny fic (thus freeing my mind from the prison of Horny Idea) and getting a new horny brainworm

[julemmaes]

Robyn

Rowaelin Month, Day Ten

A/N: I'd planned on posting them in order, but you get what you get. Idk when the other prompts will come tbf. I hope soon. Anyway, I managed to write over 6k words today and I'm pretty fucking proud.

This is just fluff over fluff, so yep enjoy!!

Word count: 3,047

Rowan was unbelievably late as he sped through the streets of Orynth.

So late that the school had called not only him, but also the front desk of the place where he worked when he hadn't answered the call on his personal phone. Sorscha, his assistant, had entered his office with an embarrassed smile on her lips, as if she didn't want to tell him that he had forgotten for the umpteenth time to pick up his daughter from school.

Lorcan had joined him, for some strange reason, but Rowan had stopped bothering when it came to his best friend. He'd been trying to figure out how he reasoned for years and had come to the conclusion that there was no logical sense in the actions of the man sitting next to him, who was currently singing at the top of his lungs to one of the songs on the Frozen CD - which much to the chagrin of both of them, had gotten stuck in his car radio months before, forcing them into hours of torture.

He would never deny that the songs were all quite catchy, but after the sixteenth time Rowan had had to listen to Let It Go at maximum volume, his positive opinion of the film had begun to waver.

As they pulled into the school parking lot, Rowan noticed with deep regret that the only cars still there were those of the teachers and school staff.

They both got out of the car, Rowan walking quickly towards the entrance while Lorcan dragged behind him.

He greeted the caretakers sitting at the entrance, who returned a big smile. A smile that grew even wider when his large, imposing friend entered a few moments later. He stopped to talk to the old ladies and Rowan walked down the corridor he knew led to Robyn's classroom.

He could hear muffled voices from inside the teachers' room on the left and the one he knew belonged to Miss Galathynius coming from the right. He looked out over the classroom, spotting the two people sitting at a desk.

As soon as his daughter saw him, her eyes widened and a huge smile flashed across her face.

No words. No "hello, daddy!" or "I missed you!" from the little girl.

Her teacher turned as she leapt out of her chair and ran towards him, hugging his legs and looking up at him. Rowan smiled at her in turn, running a hand over her hair that was shot in every direction.

"Hello, little bird," he murmured to her. The child's smile widened even more if that was possible.

The woman a few feet away from them pulled herself upright, crossing her arms over her chest and offering a sincere smile to the child, who hid behind his thighs.

Rowan was about to tell her that Robyn was shy with everyone like this, ready to defend his daughter's behaviour as he was used to doing in front of every adult, but he was beaten to the punch.

"It's good to see you, Mr Whitethorn," she said, extending a hand. Rowan shook it without hesitation. "Actually, I just wanted to write you a letter regarding Robyn," she continued, never taking her eyes off the little girl. "Nothing serious," she hastened to reassure him when Rowan grimaced, "quite the contrary. Robyn is remarkably good. One of the best in the class, though I shouldn't offer that information so bluntly."

Miss Galathynius winked at him, but he couldn't process what he'd just been told.

"Sorry, could you-"

The little hands clamped around his trousers tightened a fraction more and Rowan looked down, trying to figure out what was bothering his daughter, but then something happened that he hadn't even dared to dream about in recent times.

"You're here!"

The little girl broke off and ran away from him in less than the blink of an eye.

Rowan turned just in time to see Lorcan grab Robyn in mid-air, spinning her around as he brought her to his chest and showered her with kisses. The loud, incessant laughter that erupted from her seemed too much coming from that fragile little body, but he never tired of hearing it.

"Why hello baby!" said Lorcan laughing in turn, starting to tickle her until she begun to rebel and he was forced to let her slide to the floor. Robyn was still laughing at the top of her lungs and nearly fell to the ground as she squealed left and right, letting herself be pushed around by the closest thing to an uncle she had ever had.

When Rowan turned back to the woman, she was wide-eyed and her lips slightly parted as she watched the massive man dressed completely in black and the menacing face turn into a completely different person the second he had seen Robyn.

He chuckled, "I know, it's not every day you get to see a little girl be so comfortable with a brute like that."

Lorcan, who was listening to everything, looked him straight in the eye and without stopping smiling and playing with the little girl, mouthed to him to fuck off.

"Well, yeah. You caught me a little off guard." she confessed, still shocked to hear how Robyn was having a full conversation with Lorcan. They couldn't hear anything of what she was actually saying, but even just the fact she was talking to someone seemed to have Aelin unsettled.

She returned her attention to Rowan and let out a breath that sounded more like a giggle, "I've never heard her laugh before."

He nodded, blushing a little at the teacher's surprised but relieved tone.

"I'm sure the dean warned you about the problem she has," he said in a low voice. He grimaced at her poor choice of words, "I mean, not problem, but the difficulty she finds in interacting with people she doesn't know."

Liar, he told himself. Robyn hadn't spoken to anyone but him and Lorcan since the day Lyria had died. It wasn't a difficulty, but a response to the trauma that prevented her from speaking to anyone who wasn't part of her immediate family.

"I know, I know. We've been looking for solutions together." she informed him. "I give her a white board every morning. Come on, I'll show you." she turned to the desk they were sitting at earlier and raised the magnetic board, on which a few words were scribbled on. "I'll write here what she might need. Yes. No. I need to go to the bathroom. I'm thirsty. I'm hungry." she read, listing the various options. Rowan gaped. "We've only just started going over the alphabet for a second time, so she can't really read or write yet, as I imagine you know, but the little drawings next to each sentence help her."

She continued talking, but he couldn't quite follow.

The woman in front of him - aside from being breathtakingly beautiful - had done as much as she could to help her child with communication.

"Mr. Whitethorn-"

"Rowan. Please, call me Rowan." he said, clearing his throat once he realized how hoarse it sounded to his ears. Lorcan walked up to them at that point, still holding Robyn in his arms and positioned himself next to him, letting their shoulders touch in a comforting way.

"Call me Aelin, then," she smiled at them both. Then she made a small grimace, turning to Rowan, "I wanted to ask if it bothered you, that I sought a solution like that. Maybe I put her in distress, embarrassed her. I'm sorry if I gave you the impression that I wanted to solve this on my own. I really wanted to discuss it with you, with your husband too, to avoid misunderstandings. Maybe we could arrange a meeting."

He was about to tell her that she had given him the exact opposite of annoyance, that he had been more than pleased that she had helped Robyn this way, when her words finally registered.

Lorcan, beside him, had opened his mouth wide and his lips were slowly bending into a mischievous smile.

Rowan furrowed his brow, "I'm sorry, what?"

Aelin's smile seemed to falter. "A meeting? With you? To talk about how to handle the situation," then she shifted her gaze to Lorcan, "You're more than welcome to join as well. I didn't know Robyn had two dads, I apologise for assuming Robyn had a mum and dad. That was very rude of me-"

"I love this," Lorcan whispered, laughing in shock. He turned to Rowan with eyes that sparkled with amusement, "I would definitely be the top."

Rowan looked at him with an expression of complete shock on his face, "What the fuck are you talking about?"

Robyn gasped, opening her eyes wide and bringing a hand to her mouth, pointing then to Rowan's.

"Yeah, sorry, love. I shouldn't have said the bad word." he apologised, giving her a quick kiss on the forehead. He turned back to Miss Galathynius, "I'm sorry to have to disappoint you, but we're not married."

"No need to lie, sweetie. I'm sure Aelin," he gave her a knowing look, "doesn't mind at all about our relationship status."

Aelin nodded, "Well, yes. That doesn't change anything. Mr..." she turned to Lorcan, searching for a name.

"Salvaterre."

"Mr. Salvaterre can still attend. The fact that you are not yet married is no reason why you cannot both be present at the meeting. You don't have to worry, we are a very tolerant school and if anyone bothers you, you can come directly to me."

A sound of sheer glee escaped Lorcan.

Aelin continued, "I mean it. I was pleased to see both of you today. I was also pleased to see Robyn smiling so much." she concluded, looking the little one in the face.

Rowan took a deep breath, bracing himself, "No, I meant, we're not a couple. We're not gay. He's her uncle."

The woman's blonde eyebrows shot up and a second later she turned almost as red as the dress Robyn was wearing as Lorcan shook his head muttering something very much like 'you're no fun', which made Robyn giggle.

"Why did you even get off the car?" he asked him exasperated.

Lorcan shrugged, "Because I missed my little bean, you monster." he replied, clutching Robyn to his chest. The little girl clutched Lorcan's shirt in her chubby little hands and Rowan huffed, shaking his head.

Aelin brought her hands to her face, leaning against the desk behind her. She shook her head, her face still hidden, "Oh, god. I'm so sorry."

Lorcan let out a dry laugh, "Don't worry about it. It was fun while it lasted." then he turned to Rowan again, who was still trying to recover from the idea of being involved in a relationship with his friend, "You're really no fun."

"Yeah, no fun dad." repeated Robyn.

Silence fell over the class. Rowan looked at her with wide eyes and blinked once, twice. Robyn was staring at him with a sweet scowl that mimicked so much that of the man who was still holding her, but Rowan couldn't get over the fact that his daughter had spoken while Aelin was still beside them.

He was about to talk, noticing how Robyn had started squirming in Lorcan's arms, when there was a knock at the door.

They both turned, Aelin peering over Rowan's shoulder, and saw the figure of a petite girl with black hair and eyes standing in the doorway, watching them with her head slightly bent to the side. She had a tag on her t-shirt that was too colourful to belong to someone who didn't work in a school with children, so he guessed she was a teacher herself. Besides, Rowan felt like he'd seen her elsewhere. Probably every day when he picked Robyn up from school, he said to himself.

"I know you're not supposed to eavesdrop but I stopped by earlier and heard you were a couple of dads," she said by way of introduction. "I just wanted to reassure you that the school is an extremely safe place. I'm the one who did most of the interviews with the parents," that's where they had met then, "and one of the questions that is asked is just about the tolerance of the people who will be attending the school."

Aelin watched her, remaining silent the whole time and putting on an amused smile, nodded, "That's what I was telling them. How tolerant the school is. They make such a cute couple, don't you think, Elide?"

Rowan turned to her, arching an eyebrow, silently asking her what she was doing. The woman, as if she could truly understand what he was trying to convey to her, nodded her head towards Lorcan, who Rowan only then noticed was standing weirdly, his eyes fixed on the woman in the doorway.

He grinned, deciding to take his revenge right away. "Oh, yes. Thank you so much for the reassurance," Rowan began to play along as well. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Lorcan turn towards him, dropping Robyn to the floor, who made a disapproving noise at being dumped so suddenly. "We are happy to know that this school is a safe place for our daughter. And for us."

Elide offered him a blinding smile, "Good. I'm happy to hear that you are pleased so far. And I am happy that Aelin is the one who is taking your daughter's class. She's the best one here."

Rowan didn't know her yet, but he knew the thing Elide had just said could only be true.

"Well," she said again, giving them an apologetic smile, "I really must go now, but if you need anything, you can find all my contact details on the website. Have a nice day!"

Aelin and Rowan said their goodbyes, thanking her. Lorcan took a while to recover, but when he realised he was staring into empty space he ran towards the door, almost stepping on little Robyn, who was moved by Aelin.

"We are very much not gay, miss!" he shouted into the hallway. Aelin, now beside him and with a hand on Robyn's shoulder, cackled. With Lorcan's infinite luck, someone walked by just then and gave him a stern look. "Oh, shut up ma'am. I'm an ally. The best ally."

Rowan shook his head as Lorcan launched himself in pursuit of the poor teacher and burst out laughing when he heard him shout, "I'm not homophobic! I'm willing to suck someone's cock if I have to prove it to you!"

Aelin opened her mouth wide before bursting out laughing in turn.

Robyn, seeing both adults so happy, giggled too and Rowan bent down to pick her up. The little girl laid her full head of white-light hair on his shoulder and closed her eyes.

She was tired and Rowan really needed to get her home to sleep.

He glanced at Aelin and reduced his lips to a thin line, "I'm sorry about the commotion, I'll try not to bring him into the building again. Even if it means tying him to the seat."

The soft laugh she gave made something tighten in his chest. He frowned.

Aelin didn't seem to notice the effect she had on him, "Don't worry, Elide is crazy about fools like him. If he says the right things, we might start seeing each other outside of school too."

Rowan nodded, now too caught up in the thought of having to take Robyn home to focus on anything else.

They agreed on when to hold the parent-teacher meeting and then he grabbed Robyn's backpack, walking towards the exit.

He was thoughtless as he reached into his pocket for his keys and balanced everything else - including the girl - on his other arm, but when Robyn's hand brushed his cheek, he looked down and his eyes met their twins. Green against green.

"What is it?"

The little girl's voice never stopped making him smile. Each time was like the first time she had said dada.

"I really like her."

Rowan frowned, "Who?"

"Miss Aelin." she whispered, almost as if she was afraid they might hear her.

He smiled at her, "Yeah? You like her?"

"She's nice to me."

Rowan had to put her down as he opened the door and let her get into the back seats by herself.

"I'm glad she's treating you well, love," he let her know, buckling her in.

He hoped she'd tell him more about her new teacher, but like any kid her age, the topic of conversation couldn't last for more than four lines apiece, "Where's Uncle Lorcan?"

Rowan snorted, "No idea, little bird."

Robyn nodded, "Elide is pretty too."

And as if those words had summoned him, Lorcan appeared beside the car, making them both scream. He entered the car in a heartbeat and turned to his daughter, who was still settling into the seat. "Do you know Miss Lochan?"

But before she could answer him, Rowan had entered the car in turn and smacked the back of his head, which made the Robyn giggle, "You're not using my daughter as your wingman. Now stop it and buckle up."

Lorcan gave him a gentle push, before doing as he was told and for once he was happy he'd convinced him to do something.

Or at least, Rowan thought he had convinced him.

"What if I left you a note to deliver to Miss Lochan, Rob? Would you be up for it?"

Rowan knew, even without looking at her, that she was nodding emphatically.

Keeping his eyes on the road, he murmured, "Could you stop calling my daughter Rob, please? You'll give her an existential crisis."

Lorcan clicked his tongue against his palate, "Rowan, I'm not giving her a damn thing. We live in this new world, okay? Your daughter could be called Simon and still be a beautiful princess. Grow up and educate yourself before you talk shit."

"Aaaah!" shouted Robyn, "Bad word!"

Rowan sighed and shook his head, but still he was smiling.

This was his life. Had been for the past two years.

And he wouldn't change it for the world.

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[ragwitch]

Soooo. Now I'm back with a prompt, because you deserve all the good things in life and I'll make it one step closer to a full prompt list! Because I saw that you were hoping that you'd get enough! Well here's one more! Darcy/Bucky soulmate au (where you only see in black and white before you meet your match). Ps. Never done a prompt before so idk if that is too specific or not specific enough but I like your writing style enough to let you take whatever liberties. I'm just here for the meetcute

I have A LOT of feelings about this kind of soulmate verse!!! This is more than I meant to write, and probably a lot of extra stuff that you didn’t need outside of your meetcute, haha! But I definitely want to play with this again, so thank you so much for the prompt! I really hope you like it.

Pairing: Darcy Lewis/James Bucky Barnes

Rating: T

When Darcy Lewis was sixteen, she did not believe in soulmates. Her parents weren’t soulmates and they were the happiest couple she had ever met. None of her friends had soulmates and they were falling in love left and right. Soulmates, the Hues, were fairy tales and the people who claimed to have them, see them, were stuck up liars.

She had Values, and the sharp brightness of the sun or the glitter over water, or the deep absorbing darkness of a shadow at night were just as beautiful as any color a Hue could claim to see.

_

At twenty, in the desert, after electrocuting a man to the ground, Darcy Lewis stood next to Jane Foster.

“The night,” Jane whispered, staring up to the sky with sudden tears rolling down her cheeks. “The night has hues. Oh my god.”

If Jane Foster, the most practical, scientific, no-bullshit person Darcy had ever met, could see hues then they must be real.

At twenty, Darcy Lewis believed in soulmates.

After the Destroyer had been destroyed and Thor had vanished, Jane drove them both to Las Vegas to the nearest pigmented shopping district. Jane bought a can of Night Without Light paint (Value #5279832 and nearly black to Darcy’s eyes) and Darcy bought a gallon of Kernels paint (Value #1854) to paint her room in.

“That’s…a little obnoxious,” Jane said, wincing at the hue card in Darcy’s hand.

“Perfect,” Darcy said with a shrug.

They bought patternless clothing, dresses and shirts and pants all in one value, one hue. Darcy picked everything based off it’s name. Cockatrice, Envy, Electrical Storm, Life Blood, Bitter. Jane bought Deep Lake and New Growth and Dirt.

“People will think you’re Hued,” Jane whispered into Darcy’s ear in the dressing room.

“Perfect,” Darcy said with a shrug.

There was a department of hues for the body, eye powders and lips stains and nail varnishes. Jane wrinkled her nose at it all. Darcy bought one thing, a lipstick called Kiss Me.

“They look silly,” Jane said on the way home after stopping at a gas station. “I never knew how silly everyone looked, dressed in values. Spreading them on their faces. They don’t match. It’s all…splotchy.”

Darcy stopped wearing any makeup but the hued lipstick and her Value #9999999 eyeliner and mascara.

“The world doesn’t match,” Jane told her, out in the desert while she stared up at the sky. Darcy wondered if she was still looking for Thor, or if it was the hue of the stars and the dark sky that she was in love with now. “They tell you everything will be in hues, when it happens. But the world is designed for Values, we’ve built over all the colors.”

The next day Darcy wore her shirt the hue of Envy because she burned with it.

_

When Darcy was twenty-four she believed in soulmates, she believed in Hues, and believed she would never meet hers, would never match Jane’s descriptions of grass and sky and skin to their actual tones.

“But you’re so young,” Thor told her as Jane napped, upright at her desk.

“Only eight percent of the world sees hues,” Darcy said, scribbling with pigmented markers into a blank notebook. Orchid and Cerulean were nearly the same value, a reminder that her world was incomplete, missing information.

“And how much of the world is your age or younger?” Thor asked. “There is no age-limit on meeting your soulmate.”

“I don’t have five thousand years to wait, Thor,” Darcy said, raising her eyebrow.

Thor smiled. “You believe I am Jane’s soulmate.”

Darcy stared at him. “Of course you are.” He had landed and Jane’s world was in color. Those were the rules.

“Perhaps,” Thor said with a shrug. “I would like that to be so. We have always lived in color on Asgard, and we have the notion of a soulmate but no proof of it like Midgardians. Do you know what I think?” Darcy didn’t want to know what he thought. She didn’t want Thor saying anything but that he loved Jane and Jane loved him and it was a perfect absolute that brought Hue to Jane’s life.

“What?” she asked finally, because Thor had been patient.

“I landed, and I proved Jane’s work,” Thor said, and his fingers brushed against Jane’s hand, making hers twitch and reach for him even in sleep. “Tell me my love’s heart does not belong to her work, that her soul is not entwined with the stars.”

_

Finding your life’s purpose was about as easy as finding your soulmate, as it turned out. Maybe Thor had been right about Jane. They were still in love, that much was clear. What was clearer was that Jane’s priority was understanding, perfecting, and protecting the pathways of the universe. And Thor’s priority had always needed to be Asgard. Still in love, but not at once, not in rhythm together. And Jane still saw hues.

So Darcy had a degree and after the disaster of the Accords she found her calling. Unfucking the relationship between the world and it’s heroes. She loved it. She woke up everyday ready to kick ass. She felt fulfilled and purposeful and happy and satisfied.

She stared at the world and she counted every shade, the thousands of values in the moving ocean, in the streets of cities, in the sky. Orchid and Cerulean were close but they were not the same. There were more than 999,9999 little strands of light to see in the world. It was an infinite spectrum of value and it was beautiful.

_

The world did not end. Not when it was supposed to. Not when they promised it would.

That was good too. That would make Darcy’s job a lot easier. Heroes saving the day always did.

_

She almost didn’t notice, not at first. The heroes were trailing into the tent, one after the other, and it was a gloomy day, although by all rights the sun should have made an appearance for their victory. The world was muted, values blending softly together.

It was the Black Widow’s hair she noticed first. A low value, but bright and…words she didn’t know. The Black Widow’s hair…was hued. Everything. Everything was hued. Darcy gasped, a broken rattling breath, and fell back into her seat. Her skirt on her lap was vivid, saturated, strange and violent and Bitter.

“Bucky?”

She looked back up and Captain America had The Winter Soldier by the shoulder, worry between his eyes as the man—there was so much to see, she felt dizzy with it—stared raptly back at her.

“Hues,” Bucky said.

Soulmate, she thought. And some tiny, silly voice at the back of her head thought, Not bad, Darcy.

“Well shit,” Tony said and Darcy realized they really ought to talk about how ridiculous the hues on his suit were. Even if only eight percent of the population had to see them. “Let’s give them a minute.”

One by one the others left the tent—it was in a value, the tables and chairs were all valued too, as if a part of her world hadn’t changed when it had—but with the flick of the curtain Darcy could see that the outside world was riddled with hues and it made her heart pound. Bucky Barnes hadn’t moved, only watched her warily. She stood up and nearly laughed at herself. She was wearing the most…obnoxious colors. She must have spent the last seven years of her life looking like a color-blind Hue.

He was dressed in values but the hues of the room, the hues of her, of his hair—rich and warm and she wanted to touch it—bounced off the polish of his metal arm.

“You’re so…” he started and then swallowed heavily, eyes growing big as if he just realized he was about to speak out loud. But he came closer until they were standing just a step or two apart. She felt like she was learning a whole new language without being given any words. She had understanding and no vocabulary.

“How does anyone do this?” Darcy asked, finding his eyes and feeling shy and urgent all at once, feeling like their sharp pale color was peeling away all her secrets. “It’s everything at once.”

“You…” he started again and Darcy watched his eyes drift down to her lips. “That’s…quite a hue.”

“Kiss Me,” she said.

Bucky blinked at her and then before she could explain, he was there, warm hand pulling her closer by her cheek and mouth slotting over hers. Darcy made a sound, half-surprised and half-excited, and then her arms were over his shoulder and he was groaning as she returned the kiss, wanting every texture and flavor of him all at once. There was Hue in this too, she thought, the warmth of a mouth was a color and the taste of a man’s breath was a color and the feeling of fitting against a body so much larger and brutally stronger than her own was a color.

They pulled apart with a gasp and Darcy grinned, seeing the electric splash of her lipstick smeared across his mouth. She lifted her thumb to wipe it gently away and he leaned into the touch.

“The hue,” she explained, smiling at him. “It’s called Kiss Me.”

A new hue spread over his cheek and Darcy touched that too.

“It’s a good name for it,” he said, the blush (she had a dress called Blush and she wondered if it would match this) fading from his cheeks as he nestled her closer against him, and Darcy’s skin blossomed at every lick of touch. “A hue like that feels like an instruction.”

“Follow it again,” she said, watching his eyes change, darken. (Value or hue, who cared now?)

“Yes ma’am,” he said, and kissed her again.