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mothandpidgeon · 3 years

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REPUTATION - Chapter 1

Pairing: Din Djarin x fem!reader

Words: 3615

Rating: T

Warnings: slowest of burns, gender swapped characters, TOUCHING HANDS, no us of y/n

Summary: After scandal damages your reputation, you are finished with society. But a mysterious bachelor by the name of Mr. Djarin has a reputation of his own. And you are determined to keep yourself from getting mixed up with him.

A/N: So after THAT LOOK I know we are all working on our Darcy fics. I feel very intimidated to give it a go when so many talented writers are going to be doing it better but I really haven’t been able to think about anything else.

Also please forgive any historical inaccuracies. I hate those even when they’re on purpose so let’s just agree to ignore them.

And thanks @pascalslittlebrat for taking a look at this and listening to all of my feelings.

MASTERLIST

You used to enjoy going to balls. You used to feel excitement when you got dressed in a fine white gown, your hair set elegantly with little silk flowers. Your heart would race when you would arrive and see all of the gentlemen in their finery. And dancing. There was a time when you could stay on your feet all night, drinking in the attention of all the eligible bachelors.

Those days were long gone. Now you felt a rock in the pit of your stomach the entire time. You counted the moments until you could leave. You couldn’t even bother to put on a pleasant expression, spending entire evenings sullen and taciturn. But at least this was the last ball you had to drag yourself to this season.

You had been forced to spend yet another season in town. This time you had the company of your younger cousin Julia, though her older sister Emma was a difficult chaperone. And tonight you were being hosted by Captain Charles Dune and his wife Lady Georgiana Karga. They threw wonderful parties– at least you had enjoyed them when you enjoyed those things. It was a masquerade ball which meant Julia had picked out a dainty little mask for you to wear. You couldn’t be bothered to choose one yourself but Julia had an eye for this sort of thing. And you liked the creamy white bow that she tied into your hair.

Julia was looking forward to tonight. She was very popular despite being related to you, containing all of the traits a man would want in a wife– good looks, excellent conversational skills, and a talent at the piano forte. She had a number of young men constantly calling on her and her dance card was practically full before she had even gotten into the carriage.

“You look so pretty!” she insisted, though she was probably admiring the work she had done to make you presentable.

Emma was looking forward to being finished with you. She had been married for three years and fancied herself an authority on the subject. She spent much of her time lecturing you on the proper way to comport yourself. Tonight she was just trying to get you to quit sulking.

“Would you at least try to be sociable?” Emma requested with a frown.

“I don’t much see the point,” you huffed. “Do you really believe I’ll get a proposal at the last ball of the season?”

“Lady Georgiana has invited an old friend of the captain’s,” Emma encouraged. “Mr. Djarin. She says he’s quite admirable.”

You rolled your eyes. You both knew you were headed for spinsterhood. Emma had lost her mind if she thought that she was going to pawn you off on some aged, paunchy bachelor.

The ball went exactly as you had expected. You watched Julia dance and laugh. You stood by as Emma talked animatedly when she wasn’t giving you sharp looks. Though there were gentlemen without partners, no one asked you to dance aside from Captain Dune and a few of the unlucky young men he could press into service.

Even now at the end of the season, where so many engagements had been made, you could still feel the eyes on you, the whispers behind hands. It was as if they thought the masks covered their looks of derision. You knew what they were saying, why they snickered and turned away.

It was all because of your broken engagement to Mr. Vanth. There was no returning from a situation like that. You had been cast aside and all of the ton could enjoy surmising the reasons. Your reputation was in shambles.

But it wasn’t the fact that he had gone and married some heiress not two months after he’d given you up that made it all so painful. What had really destroyed you was the fact that you’d let yourself love him. He wasn’t the best choice though he was handsome and had enough income to keep you comfortable. But you had given your heart to him and he had crushed it. And you looked like an utter fool for it.

For some reason, tonight it all stung. You’d learned to drown out the comments and ignore the sideways glances. But here you were, closing yet another season, as single as the day you’d come out. You’d begged your poor mother to let you stay at home in the country so that you wouldn’t have to suffer these indignities. It was pathetic that you had even shown up in London. But she had insisted, had assured you that you were still desirable, still attractive and spirited.

You certainly didn’t feel that way now. You snatched up a glass of wine from a nearby valet and drank it down in nearly a single gulp. It did little to soothe your nerves.

You needed air. You took another glass and sped towards the garden. The noise and music floated out here but the fresh air was cool and the garden looked quite empty, the vacant pathways lit by torches.

You’d once been so much fun. You’d laughed and smiled. You’d had no worries about your future. Now, not only were you a laughing stock but you would be lucky if you could rely on your cousin’s generosity for the rest of your days lest you end up in the poor house.

Tears were welling up in your eyes. You tore the mask off of your face to wipe them away. With your vision clouded and in the dim of the garden, you didn’t see the man that was standing in the shadows until you’d run right into his back.

You’d hit him with enough force to knock you back a few paces but he hardly flinched. He was tall and broad shouldered and he turned to look at you with curiosity. He was alone, thank heavens. He wore a black tailcoat and under that a waist coat that looked like silver and shined like silk. You didn’t recognize him but, of course, he was wearing a mask like all of the other guests. His was rendered in the same silver fabric with a slim slit for his eyes. A scalloped piece of fabric fell from the bottom of the mask down to his chin so you couldn’t see anything of his face other than his dark eyes.

Once you’d regained your balance you began to stutter an apology.

“Forgive me, sir,” you stammered. “I must mind my step.”

The stranger didn’t say anything, he just continued to look you up and down, the torch light reflected in his eyes. His hair was a mess of dark curls. His stature was imposing and incredibly still. You were so shaken that you suddenly realized how you looked, your face stained with tears and eyes glassy. You felt your cheeks burn with even more embarrassment.

Just as you opened your mouth to give some explanation, a voice came from behind you.

“Djarin! There you are!” Captain Dune called out, as jovial as ever.

You did your best to wipe the tears from your cheeks while the masked man turned his attention away.

Captain Dune sauntered down the path with his wife on his elbow. He was a dark haired, stocky man who still looked quite dashing in his dress uniform. He had been a hero of the Nile and served with your father before his ship had been lost. His round face was adorned with a black mask.

“Ah! I see you’ve met the young lady I told you about,” Dune said.

Lady Georgiana’s bright eyes looked between the two of you from under her leather mask. She was a beautiful woman with dark skin and a wide smile. She had always been kind to you even after the disastrous affair with Mr. Vanth.

“My dear, allow me to introduce Mr. Djarin,” Lady Georgiana said. “He is a very good friend.”

Mr. Djarin gave a tight bow when she introduced you but barely murmured a, “How do you do?”

“What are you doing hiding out here, Djarin? The dancing is inside!” Dune teased.

Mr. Djarin gave a chuckle but he didn’t sound amused.

“Why don’t you ask this young lady for a dance? I’m sure she would lower herself to stand up with you,” the captain continued with a wink.

“I’d better not. Please, you’ll have to excuse me. I should retire,” Mr. Djarin said, his voice deep and raspy.

Your eyes fell to the ground and you swallowed hard. You hoped in the darkness of the garden, Lady Georgiana didn’t catch your upset. Clearly Captain Dune had told him everything about you. Why else would this man be so impolite?

“Oh come now. It’s early, yet,” the captain protested.

“Forgive me. It was a pleasure to make your acquaintance,” he bowed and took his leave.

“My dear,” Lady Georgiana tried, “you’ll have to forgive Mr. Djarin. He has lived alone for so long that he sometimes forgets his manners.”

You gave her a smile, clenching your jaw so that you would not cry.

“I just had a splendid idea!” Lady Georgiana exclaimed, clapping her hands together. “You should come stay with us at Nevarro Hall. We leave next week. It would be great fun. I do find that part of the country so diverting.”

“You are too kind but I couldn’t impose,” you said politely. You had a feeling this offer only came because Georgiana felt responsible for her friend’s slight.

“Nonsense! You’re quite right that is a grand idea!” the captain agreed.

It was agreed that Lady Georgiana would write to your mother to inform her of the invitation. You knew she wouldn’t disagree considering how kind the Dunes were and how generous an invitation it was. Once the matter was settled, Captain Dune insisted you return to the party and you reluctantly slunk back inside.

Julia was with a gaggle of some friends when you returned to the ballroom. There was some excitement going on between them.

“Did you see him, Lucy?” one of the girls asked.

“I was introduced,” Lucy squealed. “It is a shame he was not here earlier in the season.”

You realized they were talking about Mr. Djarin and you felt yourself frowning.

“You’re not happy with Mr. Calican?” Julia laughed. Lucy had accepted his proposal just yesterday.

“No, of course!” she scoffed.

“What was he like?” Julia asked.

“I’ve heard he has a fine estate,” Lucy said.

“Oh, he was terribly handsome,” the first girl craned her neck to try and spot Mr. Djarin.

You wanted to laugh. You had also been introduced to Mr. Djarin but there was no way of knowing how handsome he was beneath that mask. You might have even ventured to tell them that but Emma joined the group looking disgruntled.

“I have learned some most unsettling news about Mr. Djarin,” she said. “He is traveling with a child who is in his care.”

“What about that offends you so?” Julia rolled her eyes.

“That is just it, Julia. I am told that this young boy is not merely Mr. Djarin’s ward. He is, in fact, his natural child.” This last part she said in a scandalized whisper.

This raised quite a few eyebrows but you furrowed your own.

“You are told?” You responded. “By whom?”

You knew the rumors that had circulated about yourself and had grown to absolutely despise and distrust gossip.

“I have it on good authority,” Emma said, which meant that some busybody had told her.

You shook your head. You hated that you felt the need to defend Mr. Djarin after he’d been so rude to you. If he had a child out of wedlock, one that he paraded around shamelessly, then what right did he have to rebuff you? You reminded yourself that this was merely hearsay. And no one deserved to be slandered like that.

But when you saw the way the other girls eyed you, you remembered yourself. If you protested too much, it would only speak to your own reputation. So you let them prattle on and as soon as you could slip away, you did, and spent the rest of the evening counting the minutes until you could leave and fall into bed.

After such an excruciating time in town, you were happy to be going anywhere else and, selfishly, you were glad that you didn’t need to spend a long carriage ride hearing Julia go on and on about how much she would miss being in town.

Nevarro Hall was situated on a gorgeous estate in a quiet part of the countryside. Lady Georgiana had given you a well appointed room with a view of the grounds. There was a beautiful garden with a fountain in the middle and, beyond that, a manicured lawn. You could see down to the lake and, past that, the tall trees. You spent a week walking the grounds with Lady Georgiana.

You loved to draw and you could set yourself in some corner of the garden and sketch the flowers for hours on end. It was such a wonderful change from the constant noise and hustle of town– the endless parties and calls, Emma herding you around like a prized cow. When the weather was fair, Lady Georgiana would have tea set outside and she and the captain would ask for a tour through your sketchbook and kindly remark on your talents.

“Perhaps you will create a likeness of the captain, my dear,” Lady Georgiana suggested. “If he will sit still enough for you.”

The captain laughed at that remark as the valet presented him with a letter.

“Very good! It seems Djarin will be joining us tomorrow! His business in town is finished,” he said.

You tried to hide your displeasure. You had no interest in sitting through dinners and excruciating evenings with Mr. Djarin. But you had little choice in the matter. And the captain and Lady Karga had been such generous hosts, you wouldn’t insult them by cutting your visit short.

You decided that you would be as polite as necessary but keep away from him as much as possible. This was wise, you told yourself, because your reputation couldn’t suffer any more difficulties. There were plenty of people that would jump at the chance to make even a passing association with Mr. Djarin into a scandal. But, of course, there was still a part of you that smarted at the way he had dismissed you in your very first encounter. You couldn’t be prevailed upon to be pleasant to a man that was so insulting. And so you would not.

Luckily, the first two days, it was easy to avoid Mr. Djarin entirely. The captain had taken him out riding or shooting or some such activity men enjoyed and they had dined out. Lady Georgiana had become a dear companion to you but she had begun to spend far too much time hinting at how much she liked the new guest. You would merely nod and smile and let your mind wander when she started to tell you how agreeable Mr. Djarin was or how he had been such a kind friend to her father.

On the third day, you had complained of a headache so you could excuse yourself from breakfast. After you had the tea and toast that Lady Georgiana had sent up to your room, you insisted a walk would be good for you and you set out across the grounds with your sketchbook.

You decided the stables were a good place to be left alone. It wasn’t like anyone would be looking for you there and, save the horses, there was nobody there. You found a little wooden chair and sat down to draw the horses and tack.

There was a beautiful black mare with white whiskers around her snout that you were sketching when you heard a noise. It was a funny little squeal. You thought you had imagined it until you heard it again. It had come from the empty horse stall at the very end and when you set down your sketchbook to investigate, you found a little boy sitting in the hay.

“Hello,” you said to him.

He smiled up at you. He looked incredibly sweet with chubby little cheeks. His ears seemed too big for his head and his eyes, too, were big and round. He wore a little brown suit with a delicate ruffle around the neck that was now covered in mud and hay.

“What are you doing in here?” you asked him, though he seemed too small to answer.

He babbled at you and held out something in his hand.

“What’s that?”

The child leaned forward, stretching towards you, and dropped it into your hand. It was a little silver ball that jingled like it had a bell within.

“Thank you,” you chuckled.

You shook it and it made a tinkling sound. He clapped his pudgy hands together, then planted them on the ground, and carefully got to his feet. He continued to yammer on as he tottered towards you, falling on his behind once, but determined to reach you on his own.

“Grogu!” You heard a voice from the path outside that you recognized. “Grogu!”

The boy scampered out of the stable and right up to the boot of Mr. Djarin.

“Where have you been, lad? They’re turning the whole house over looking for you,” he said.

He scooped the little boy up, holding his whole body in the crook of his arm, a wide hand grasping the boy’s calf. Grogu put a dirty hand up to Mr. Djarin’s chin and he laughed softly.

Now that you had the benefit of seeing him without a mask, you realized Mr. Djarin was, indeed, quite handsome. He had full lips and a prominent nose. His skin was a shade of gold that complimented his dark eyes. His starched collar met a square jaw that was dotted with stubble. In the sunlight, you could see that his soft curls and thick sideburns were threaded with grey hairs. The smile that spread over his features was so warm, you wished you could capture it in your sketchbook.

This was the infamous child, then. You saw little resemblance between Mr. Djarin and the lad but he held him so tenderly, it made you wonder if the rumors hadn’t been true.

That’s what you were pondering when the boy turned his attention back to you, pointing with a plump little finger. Mr. Djarin’s whole body stiffened when he saw you, his eyes turning sharp.

“Good morning,” you said with a curtsy.

His jaw clenched and he nodded.

“He was playing,” you tried, tilting your head back towards the stable.

“What are you doing?” he asked.

“I was drawing the horses,” you explained.

His head tilted just slightly.

“Is that his name? Grogu?” You asked when Mr. Djarin failed to speak.

“Yes,” he said.

You smiled. “It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Grogu.”

You put out your hand and the lad wrapped his fingers around one of yours.

“Ebba!” he cried.

You laughed. When you glanced at Mr. Djarin he was looking at you with an expression you could only describe as fear. Your smile faltered.

“I take it your business was concluded. In a satisfactory manner, I hope?” you inquired politely.

His brow furrowed momentarily and he opened his mouth and then set Grogu down at his feet.

“Yes. I-” he cleared his throat. “Please, you must forgive me for my behavior at the masquerade. Lady Georgiana said that I offended you. That was not my intention.”

You felt heat in your cheeks once again, embarrassment mixed with anger. You couldn’t believe he had to be told that he had acted like an ass. “Not to worry, sir. My pride has already been damaged so thoroughly, what is but one more slight?”

The look that crossed his face was absolute horror. You would have apologized for speaking so plainly but you frankly didn’t care. What right did he have to judge you? To apologize like you were so pitiful when here he was with his love child. You knew what men like Mr. Djarin were like and you’d learned to keep a wide berth.

“I- I should tell them that I’ve found him,” Mr. Djarin said. “Good day.”

He turned to go back up the path.

“Wait!” you called.

You blushed when you realized how impolite it sounded. Mr. Djarin turned carefully but said nothing. You approached him, painfully aware of the way he stared at you. It was difficult to meet his eye. You swallowed and held out the child’s ball to him. Mr. Djarin put out his hand and you placed it in his palm. As you did, your fingertips brushed his hand and you shivered. His skin felt rough and his palm was so large compared to your own. Your breath caught and, for some reason, you wished he would close his fingers around yours. You quickly withdrew your hand.

The boy reached out for the ball with a coo.

“Much obliged,” Mr Djarin managed. He was still looking at you with intense concentration.

Your chest felt tight.

“I’ll let them know at the house,” you stuttered and after a quick curtsy you were rushing back up the path.

--- Chapter 2

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jihyuncompass · 3 years

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This Year

Happy Birthday Jihyun! It’s hard to believe this is my second year in a row writing a birthday fic for you. But of course it’s deserved. Even as time passes and I don’t have the time to play Mysme much anymore that has never changed the fondness I feel for you dear Jihyun. Happy Birthday <3

Jihyun Kim (V) x MC

Word Count: 1.6k

Warnings: N/A

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V hiked up towards the top of the mountain. Looking up he could see the peak not too far into the distance. Not wanting to stop just yet he kept pushing ahead, he was so close to the top. Taking heavy breaths he quickened his pace, his heart beating heavy in his chest as he got closer.

Chest heaving he looked down and over the summit, he stood just above the low hanging clouds, still he could look down and take in the rolling green hills below, the trees that up close would be towering but from this height looked like toys. The scenery seemed to go on forever and ever. Around him was no noise beyond the sound of leaves in the breeze and birds flying nearby and his own heavy breaths. However, beyond that, there was no people, no cars, nothing but himself and nature.

He let his backpack fall to the ground beside him as he slipped the straps off of his shoulders. V remained standing for another minute to fully admire the scene in front of him catching his breath taken from him on the way up.

Finding a good spot V sat down on the ground. He stayed silent as he looked up towards the blue sky. Perfectly blue and warm even as the summer started to fade into autumn, for now though summer remained. As did the sun as it warmed his face.

Unzipping his hiking backpack he reached for the small bundle he’d packed away in there earlier, setting it down on the ground in front of him. Closing up his backpack he pushed it to the side just slightly then turned his attention to the bundle in front of him.

V separated the small containers from one another. He couldn’t pack much for this hike but he’d managed to include a small meal to eat at the summit of the mountain. V smiled only to himself as he took the lids off. He settled with his back against one of the trees, looking at the scenergy he dug into his lunch.

He took his time with his meal, wanting to savor every taste and every sight in front of him. Tomorrow he’d get on a plane to his next destination, last week he’d booked a ticket to a different place. Somewhere new for him to explore and enjoy, and for all he knew he wasn’t ever going to return to this place, so he would take in as much as he possibly could. Committing every part of this to his memory.

The final part of his meal was left in front of him, clearing the rest of the containers he took a moment before opening the last one. He sighed softly at the small slice of cake he’d gotten from a small bakery that morning. He’d spent almost ten minutes trying to decide which slice of cake he wanted to get. Eventually he’d settled on a slice of champagne flavored cake with vanilla frosting.

Sitting alone on the top of the mountain V quietly sang to himself, at the end pretending to blow out the invisible candle he’d imagined on top. Making his wish for this year, a much different wish than he’d asked for in the years before.

As a child birthdays always meant large lavish parties hosted by his father. Always lacking children V’s age. Usually the parties his father hosted for his birthday were attended by their extended family and his father’s friends. Some of them brought their own children along, but they either were much younger, or much older than him. So besides Jumin his birthdays were most often spent in a stuffy suit chatting with adults about school and his future plans.

He’d never enjoyed these parties, always so formal and more of a party for the adults than the child at the center of it, and every year he’d made the same wish. To be a son his father would be proud of.

Those parties stopped after the fire. Jihyun wasn’t interested in formal business birthdays. He wasn’t interested in his father’s friends or his world. Instead his birthdays were spent with Jumin or Rika. Going on vacations, drinking wine, enjoying peaceful quiet affairs to celebrate a new year of his life. Back then his birthday wishes had been much different, he’d wished for Rika’s happiness, or for his own success. He had been fine with that, enjoyed it even. However, that was the past now, a past that felt a million years old.

That year sitting on that mountain he made a brand new wish. This year, he wanted to be happy, and he wanted to be ready to go home.

Jihyun could recall that hike in great detail, the way the breeze ran through his hair, the sprawling trees on the way down the mountain, the formations of fluffy clouds, all of it stayed in his mind even after a year had passed.

Like that day a year ago Jihyun felt the warmth of the sun on his face. His eyes fluttered open to face his bedroom window. The sun was already high in the morning sky and bringing warmth throughout the whole room. Laying still he enjoyed the warmth of the blankets around him and the brightness of the sun on his face.

After laying like that for longer than he could count he sat up in bed. Stretching his arms over his head with a deep exhale. Next to him the other side of the bed was empty. The covers had been pushed aside but already cold.

Leaving the bedroom Jihyun glanced into the living room. They must have woken up a while ago, he couldn’t hear the shower running or cooking in the kitchen like he would have expected after waking up in the late morning.

He stood in the middle of the living room, looking for evidence of where his beloved had gone off too. The keys weren’t in the usual spot by the door, they must have gone out somewhere then.

Feeling the mystery solved Jihyun sat on the couch against the living room wall. His eyes landed on some of the framed photos on the wall. Some were prints from his former photography career, but most were photos from the last few months of his life. Photos with the members of the RFA, of his beloved, of him. Each one a snapshot of warm memories in his mind. Even the old ones from when he was V, those photos still managed to bring warmth to Jihyun’s heart.

The click of the lock on the front door brought Jihyun out of his thoughts. Not wasting a second Jihyun rose from his seat and walked through the apartment to meet them.

His heart swelled at the sight of his beloved, he smiled warmly as they met his eyes with a matching smile. They balanced a couple bags and box in their arms as they entered the apartment. Without a word Jihyun took the box and one of the bags from their arm to lighten the load.

“Good morning love.” Jihyun said, leaning forward to kiss his lover hello.

“Good morning Jihyun.” They whispered. “Happy birthday.” A larger smile grew on Jihyun’s lips.

“I woke up and you were already gone.” Jihyun said, stepping back to make his way to the kitchen. They followed behind him, shaking off their shoes in the process.

“I thought I could sneak out and get back before you woke up.” They said, “I figured since you and Jumin were up late together you’d sleep in longer.” They put the rest of the bags down next to the others. As they spoke they placed the items in the bags in their proper places in the fridge or cupboards.

Jihyun worked next to them doing the same process of putting the groceries away. “What are all of these for?” He asked.

“They’re for dinner tonight love.” They answered. “I figured since it’s just going to be the two of us tonight I should make a nice dinner for your birthday.” MC lifted the one box to put it next to the new groceries in the fridge. “And this is your birthday cake. Which you’re not allowed to look at yet.” They pointed at Jihyun with a teasing smile. “So no peeking okay?”

Jihyun nodded with a flair of drama. “I would never.”

“Oh really?”

“I wouldn’t!” Jihyun insisted.

“Sure.” MC laughed. “But I mean it, don’t peek until after dinner.” MC closed the fridge door.

“I promise.” Jihyun said with a sweet seriousness. “I’m looking forward to tonight.” Jihyun put an arm around their waist to bring them closer. Jihyun held them close. A year ago he could have only dreamed of getting to have this. Getting to hold them close, see them like this. Just be near them and able to say whatever it is that’s on his mind.

He must have been staring at them for a long time without saying anything because their expression changed. “Jihyun? What are you thinking about?”

Jihyun pulled them closer to kiss them, hardly able to contain the smile on his face as he did. Their hand travelled up to rest on his shoulder to keep him this close.

“I’m sorry.” Jihyun whispered when he eventually pulled away. “I just feel really happy.” He said. MC pulled him back in to kiss him again. They held each other close, both smiling in between kisses.

At that moment Jihyun knew what his birthday wish would be this year. For the first time in his life he wished for exactly what he had at this moment. He didn’t wish for anyone but himself, and he didn’t wish for some miracle. All he wanted was this. A million more moments just like this.

#mystic messenger #mysme #v #v mysme #jihyun kim #kim jihyun #v x reader #v x mc #no beta we die like [redacted]

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piscesparker · 3 years

Text

Betraying the bond

Masterlist | Taglist

Prologue

"That will be all for today your highness." Mr. Bernard, my private tutor said. Being the princess I never had the opportunity to get an education like the other children of the kingdom, hence my father, the King of Northollow, and the previous Kings and royal members received a formal education within the walls of the castle.

And due to my luck, I am the first born and next in line for the throne; hence the classes. In other circumstances this would be frowned upon, but since the change of times, the law of only a male heir to ascend the throne was scrapped out and I have the honor of being the first princess to be Queen of Northollow without being wed. My parents were really proud when they discovered that I would love to reign over our beloved kingdom instead of handing it to my younger brother, and me living the life of a typical queen, wearing pretty dresses and hosting tea parties while my husband ran the kingdom. It's not like I didn't like that life but I would never say no to a sword fight against a worthy opponent, board meetings or piles of paper work. Two sides of the coin right?

Usually after Mr. Bernard's class I would be either in my room reading a book or just going for a ride with Spencer, my horse, but I was summoned by my dear father in his office. He never called me so suddenly, I always had to make an appointment even though I was his daughter. Knocking on the polished doors, I heard my fathers deep voice telling me to enter. As the door creaked open I saw the bustling of all the people, his court, arguing over something very obvious. I knew what it could possibly be, but I was still quite unsure.

Centuries ago before, the lands were divided into three kingdoms, Magehaven, Redmont and our Kingdom, Northollow. No one ever knew the true story of how these kingdoms came to be, everyone had a different version where the kingdom was better than the other and trying to take over the other two so that one of us could finally rule over all the three lands once again. And this is why my parents were always worried if I became Queen, would I be able to control the situation all by myself and I assured them that I will do my best to deliver as per the exceptions of the people.

"Everybody out." He ordered as he rubbed his temple with the tips of his fingers, slouching on the leather chair. If grandma or grandpa were here they would immediately reprimand him for his current posture. "And Leah," he turned to his secretary, "can you please clear the schedule for the rest of the day?" She nodded, before leaving you and your father alone to converse. His demeanor really made me worry, sure being a king was hard but this look very serious. "Is something wrong?" I asked softly, as I fiddled with the fabric of my dress. "You might want to sit for this darling." He motioned me to the chairs opposite his desk to which I obliged.

"Now what I am about to tell you, I am telling you not only as a father to a daughter but also as a king to the next heir," you nodded. He took a deep breath and began, "As you know our neighboring kingdoms have been at war for centuries, but yesterday I received a letter from the kingdom of Redmont." He said, opening the drawer and removing said letter.

"What does it say?" You asked.

"It seems they were attacked terribly last week by the kingdom of Magehaven. And now they are on the brink of extinction, so they want to form an alliance with us, they are ready for us to take over their kingdom in order of the survival of their people." And in case you didn't know, the king of Magehaven wanted to take over all three kingdoms, but neither of the kingdoms allowed that because he was a very cruel ruler. Almost every week we had refuges and people migrating to our land in hope of solace, which they did find. My father was very kind so as to welcome them with open arms.

"So what have you decided?"

"I was thinking of agreeing to it, but I had to consult you first, since you are of age and soon will take over me I have to make sure you, as future queen will be able to handle it." I was shocked, I couldn't believe, my dad finally thinks I am able to take decisions? "Dad I think I will be alright, you should go ahead and form the alliance." I gave a tight lipped smile, which he reciprocated.

"Are you sure?" I nodded, I knew he could never make any decision that would harm me. "But there's one more thing," he continued, "since the attack ruined almost their entire land, the royal family will be coming over to stay in our castle, while the refugees settle in town."

"That would be lovely, dad," I beamed at him.

"They will be arriving by tomorrow so I took the liberty of cancelling your classes for the rest of the day." he grinned.

"Oh, thank you!" I jumped out of my seat and hugged him.

"Okay, you can leave now, I still have some work to get to."

"I'll see you at dinner." I said, heading for the door.

"See you- Oh and Y/n?" He called out, "The heir of Redmont, Prince Harrison will also be arriving, so you might have some company." He smirked. My eyes widened, it had been so long I had seen him. Was I scared or nervous? Who knows, maybe this won't be as bad as I hope it would. As I was leaving I saw mom coming my way to dad's office, she seemed a bit calm but hurried in the room, I wanted to snoop around and see what was the emergency but I remembered I had to go to the stables to see Spencer.

"And?" Mom asked worriedly, "What did she say?" But dad stayed silent. "You didn't tell her did you?"

"It's too much for her."

"We have no choice, you have to confront her okay?" He nodded.

General Taglist: @in-a-lot-of-fandoms-tbh @peaches-parker @mischiefmanaged011 @hollanderfangirl @parkerpeter24 @whatthefuckimbisexual @yourstrulyamour @felicityparkers @theonly1outof-a-billion @miraclesoflove @theliterarymess @osterfieldholland01 @spideyssunshine @zspideyy @chillingonlife @yousayironisayman

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Strike through means I couldn't tag you

#harrison osterfield #haz osterfield #haz osterfield x reader #harrison osterfield x reader #harrison osterfieldxreader #harrison osterfield imagine #harrison osterfield fluff #prince!harrison #prince!haz #betraying the bond

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cha-lyn · 4 years

Text

Milk & Eggs - Fourteen

Farmer!Bucky x Reader

Words: 1998

Summary: Small Town /Farmer Bucky AU // Reader leaves the city to go live with her grandma. She meets an attractive farmer and, no, they don’t hit it off.

Warnings: fluff and some angst (maybe)

A/N: What a ride. This is the Final Chapter of Milk & Eggs. I truly appreciate the feedback. Really - if i didn’t know people were reading this I would’ve never finished it. Thank you, Thank you all. 💛 I have some other stuff in the works so don’t go too far 😏

Master List // Previous Chapter

- - -

You spend the rest of the day catching up and planning the week with Grams. You’d have your usual bakes this week, as well as the Henderson twins’ sweet sixteen birthday cake and scones for a housewife the town over who was hosting a tea party. Once it’s all been delegated, you and Grams sit on the back balcony of the apartment with mugs of tea.

You break the comfortable silence with what’s bothering you. “Grams. Do you think Bucky and I are moving too fast?”

She thinks for a moment before answering. “I don’t think it matters if you know how you feel about someone and they feel the same way. Your grandpa and I dated for three months before he proposed and we were married three weeks later. Some say we rushed into it, but we both knew what we felt and we were on the same page.” She stirs some more honey into her tea. You smile.

Your grandpa was a distant memory for you--he’d passed when you were still young, but you remembered some things about him. He’d been a rancher and had several horses. The memories you did have of him were fond. He’d take you out to do chores with him-and at that time they were fun and you were more than willing. He spoiled you with hot chocolate behind your mom’s back and taught you how to shoot a gun.

“Looking back I would’ve married him in half the time,” she laughs. “Why the sudden concern about how fast you’re going?”

“I made a joke. I said he should get a dog and I’d come over more and he was like ‘You over all the time, come over anymore and you’ll have to move in.’ And then I choked on my coffee and there’s awkward tense silence and then he says he's joking…” you sigh, looking at Grams for guidance. She just chuckles at you. “Don’t laugh, Grams. We had this weird tense talk on the way back about defining our relationship and if we know each other enough and me not being able to see the future--”

“You never have been one to plan ahead, dear,” Grams interrupts. She catches your questioning look. “It’s true. You’d climb a tree effortlessly for the view and then all but lose your mind trying to figure out how to get down. You did things by the seat of your pants. But you always figured it out. You moved here pretty spur of the moment too, come to think of it.”

You chew your lip, “Ugh. That’s your cryptic way of telling me….” You pause and look to her to finish the thought. She laughs and shrugs, “Maybe it’s okay to not have it planned out. You two seem to have a good balance of making each other happy and being honest with each other.”

You nod, but don’t respond.

—

The next evening there was a knock at 6:30 sharp. You shuffled down the stairs to meet Bucky, who was dressed in his nice jeans and a button up with a bouquet of lilies. Your favorite.

“Hey slick,” he grinned at the sight of you. “You look beautiful. Got these for you and Sue,” he says handing you the flowers.

You blush, “Thanks Buck. You look nice, too. Come on up.” You turn to lead him up the stairs, but he grabs your hand.

“Can we—can I just say something before we go up there?”

You nod, he sighs and runs a hand through his hair and you immediately think the worst.

“I really, really care about you. I’m sorry for how things went yesterday … I get what you mean about not seeing the future right now. When I was in the service, we lived day to day. We’d have plans and ideal outcomes, but then shit would happen and plans were just plans, so I get it. Nothing ever really goes as planned. I don’t need a label or a detailed plan for the future. I’m sorry I badgered you for one. I guess I just wanted you to know that I-I’m in this.” He waves his hand in between the two of you. “As fast or as slow as you wanna go, I’m in.”

Your heart thumps in your chest as his words sink in. You stand quietly for a minute, long enough for Bucky to start looking uncomfortable. “Bucky… I-”

“Oh hello James!” Grams’ voice calls down to the two of you. “You guys come on up, I’m taking the food out of the oven now.”

You see your out and start up the stairs, “Uh, Let’s go.”

Bucky sighs, defeatedly, but follows you up the stairs.

Dinner was delicious, the conversation was much less serious with Grams present. Bucky insisted on doing the clean up--he made Grams relax and almost didn’t even let you help. When the dishes were done and dried, the conversation meandered until Grams let out a big yawn and bid the two or you goodnight. The silence that followed was deafening.

No sooner than Grams had shut her bedroom door, Bucky turns and asks, “Can we pick up where we left off?” You swirl the wine in your glass and nod slowly, but don’t answer so Bucky continues. “I’m in this. Wherever you want this to go and however fast.” Another stretch of silence as the two of you lean against the counter tops, it's getting awkward. “Are you going to say anything?”

“Honestly, there was so much of that with Spencer and then it all blew up in my face. I’m … scared to make plans again-- to have those kind of feelings again just for them to be ruined.”

As you say it, it’s almost as if it replays in front of you. The initial swell of feelings when he touched you and kissed you. The late nights spent building imaginary houses and naming imaginary kids. But this time as the memories play back, they’re tainted. Soured with another memory, this one painful. You know Bucky isn't anything like Spencer, he’s proven that to you.

As if reading your mind, Bucky breaks through your fog, “I’m not him. You know that right?”

“Of course I know you're not him Buck-“ you sigh, planting your hands on your forehead. You had to make a choice and you know in your soul you can’t live with a life of what ifs. “So let’s do the damn thing.”

Bucky’s face broke into that blinding smile. “You sure?”

“I’m sure I’d regret it if we didn’t try,” you say raising your glass.

Bucky clinks his beer to your glass, before leaning over to kiss you on the top of the head. “Let’s do the damn thing.”

---

Two months later

“Slick, what should I pack for this trip?” You hear hangers sliding as he searches for clothing in his closet. “Slick? I need help.”

You sigh, putting down your book and sliding off the bed. “What do you mean? We already ordered your suit for the wedding.”

Bucky stands in his closet, shirtless in a pair of old grey sweats. “For all the other stuff we’re gonna do.”

You wrap your arms around his waist. “Jeans, maybe a few nicer shirts. A hoodie. Bring your bathing suit-- our AirBnB has a private hot tub.”

Bucky hums, “Seems like you’ve planned this whole trip down to the minute. Please show me the itinerary.’

“Nope! I got big plans and they are top secret confidential.”

Bucky turns to face you, hands firmly on your hips. “I bet I can get them out of you.” You cock your eyebrow. “I was in the military, I know torture.”

You throw your head back to laugh, but that was a mistake. Bucky starts assaulting your very ticklish neck with kisses. You try to push away but he has you in a vice grip.

“Oh. I didn’t know you were ticklish,” he deadpans. His fingers find your sides and though you squirm, you can’t get away.

“You can’t break me,” you choke out between laughs. Bucky doesn’t believe you--Hell you don’t even believe you--so he increases his attack, zeroing in on an armpit. “Ah-st-stop. I can’t breathe.”

Bucky stops immediately and you bolt out of the closet, “Liar!!” he shouts, following you out, laughing.

You’re trying to catch your breath as you sputter, “Finish packing. Please. We gotta get up early tomorrow to make it to the rehearsal on time.”

Bucky narrows his eyes, “This is a trap. But fine. I’ll leave you alone. All night. No snuggles, definitely no sex.”

You roll your eyes, “I know where the blankets are-- don’t you worry about me, worry about packing.” Bucky eyes you for so long you think he might attack again, but instead he turns back into the closet with a huff.

---

You and Bucky left the next morning for Seattle, the both of you giddy for a weekend away. Once you hit the city, Bucky lets you drive to the quaint AirBnB you chose for the trip. It was a cute little mother-in-law cottage on one of Seattle's surrounding islands and it was right on the water. Bucky was itching to know your super secret itinerary, but you wouldn’t budge on the surprise you had planned for him. You promised he’ll know more after the wedding.

The wedding was gorgeous. Brad and Aaron were both so handsome and their vows made you bawl your eyes out, which just made Bucky pull you closer and kiss the top of your head gently. Spencer was there, a plus one of a mutual friend, but he kept his distance from you and Bucky, so the night succeeded in being very romantic and relaxed. You spent most of it in Bucky’s arms on the dance floor, which is exactly where you wanted to be. He was the last person you thought would have dance skills, but again he surprises you by being quite nimble on his feet. He twirls and dips you until you're both dizzy and in a fit of giggles.

The next day, despite your busy late night, you and Bucky are up bright and early. Bucky was as excited as a kid at Six Flags, begging you to just break the surprise to him early. You refused of course- it was fun watching him squirm. Bucky questioned your every turn on your way to the surprise.

“So, where are we going?” he asks for the 30th time.

“Bucky. You will see when we get there,” you say smugly.

“I wanna know now.”

“It’s okay to want,” you retort.

Ten minutes later, you turn into the parking lot of Seattle Whale Watch tours. You look at Bucky, “We’re here.” Bucky’s eyes are wide.

“We’re going whale watching?” he blinks slowly. “How’d--you remembered? I said that forever ago!”

“Of course I remember Bucky. It was a dream of yours… I wanted to make it come true.”

Bucky just grinned. “You’re the best.”

Bucky’s practically leaning off the boat with the biggest grin ever on his face. It’s been a particularly busy day as whale traffic goes, so Bucky was elated to say the least. “This is amazing. Wow.” He turns to you. “Thank you, slick. I-That was better than I imagined.”

You grin, so pleased that he’s happy. “I’m glad you liked it.”

He pulled you to stand in between him and he railing, “I told you that you knew me,” Bucky said smugly in your ear.

You smile as you turn to face him, “You were right, Buck. But there is something about me that you don’t know.”

Bucky purses his lips, “Doubtful doll.”

You shrug, but continue anyway, “I love you.”

Bucky blinks. “Well shit. I did not know that.” Somehow, Bucky’s smile for you was brighter than it was for the whales and the sparkling blue of his eyes putting the ocean around him to shame. “I love you.”

- - -

Taglist: as always thank you guys for the feedback/love. It’s SO appreciated. 💛

@notatallfriendly @thechaoticargonaut @booktease21 @iamwarrenspeace @titty-teetee @harryngtonewithyourshit @mcueveryday @peakyrogers @thedepressedsponge @navegandoaciegas

@thefridgeismybestie

@basically-introverted

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tagsecretsanta · 4 years

Text

From @Onereyofstarlight

to @godsliltippy

Secret Santa does not own this work, full credit to the author above!

Jelly smears onto her arm where Gordon grabs her and a ball of wrapping paper and tape is thrust into her hands.

“’t’s for you,” he says, eyes alight as she holds the pink package away from her body.

Penelope stares at him and looks over to her father. Years of etiquette, engrained into her by nurses, nannies and governesses, never prepared her for the clumsy friendship of a five-year-old boy who showed all his teeth when he smiled.

No-one would know if she didn’t thank him. Just the two of them, and she doubts he would even notice.

Her mother would notice. Her dead mother’s presence was everywhere, lurking in the corners of every room and watching Penelope’s every move. Her mother would tell someone and they would tell her father.

Nothing escapes Lord Creighton-Ward, especially not in his own house.

She nods slowly instead, allowing a thin smile to spread across her face.

“Thank you, Gordon.”

There’s dirt on his nose. Her smile falters.

But Gordon is five and starry eyed and in love with the pretty girl who came to play school with his brothers and doesn’t see the lie in her eyes.

He runs back to his mother, heedless of the way Penelope’s eyes follow him.

“Wot’s tha’ milady?”

“Nothing, Parker.”

She means it too.

The gift is never opened, discarded among the steamers and half-eaten plates of food.

Gordon never notices.

***

The next year, he gives her nothing but a cold stare.

***

Time passes and she’s no longer a haughty girl of seven, sulking in the back room of a boring Christmas Eve party, and he’s no longer the kid who follows his brothers like a lost puppy. He bounds first into every room, demanding attention and she can hardly stop herself from giving it to him.

“Hey,” says John, looking slightly affronted at the way her eyes have slipped away from him once again. “You listening to me?”

“Yes.”

She’s lying, and she’s gotten good at that, but John still knows her tells, still knows her.

“Sure.”

It’s hard to hear him over the bright spark of laughter on the other side of the room. Gordon is surrounded, entertaining the small children stuck in the same position she was exactly twelve years ago.

A nudge pulls her from her thoughts and John nods in his direction.

“Talk to him.”

Penelope says nothing and he reads her silence as easily as his mathematical proofs. His mouth twists as he watches her, biting back platitudes that she can’t stand to hear.

“He got you a gift,” John says quietly. His eyes never leave her and she wishes desperately that she could leave. “He spent hours thinking about it, didn’t shut up about it since he drew your–”

“Don’t tell me that.”

His hands rise, open and honest and the words fall heavy between them.

She’d never been more pathetically grateful than when Gordon pulled her name for the annual Christmas round robin. She doesn’t need John to point it out to her.

There’s a dry lump in her throat and it tastes like pity.

Penelope knows she’s being a terrible host, but she allows the silence to stretch between them.

“Do you want another drink?”

She shakes her head, looking very carefully into the flickering flames.

John sighs and collects her glass from the mantle all the same.

“I’ll be back.”

She watches John as he strides across the dance floor, half convinced he’s about to spill the beans to Gordon, but he barely gives him a second glance. Instead, a few short words and a pointed look in her direction sends Virgil her way.

“Penelope, you’re looking wonderful.”

“What did John tell you?”

He grins and offers her his hand.

“Just thought you might appreciate a dance. Take your mind off matters.”

“He told you?”

“Never, our Johnny is a gentleman first. And a dancer last.”

On tiptoes, she spies John over his brother’s shoulder and glares at him as he ducks out of the room.

“One dance then, Mr Tracy.”

“Lady Creighton-Ward.”

In truth, Virgil is a wonderful dancer. They move like starlings in the dusk, mesmerising and perfectly choreographed as the music swells in a familiar beat. It’s easy and joyful, allowing herself to move without thinking while Virgil mutters terribly judgemental comments about the more stuck-up members of her peers.

“Stop it, Virgil,” she whispers, fighting a smile. “It’s not funny.”

He laughs and they dance, allowing the music and conversation to direct their pace and as the song swells, he twirls her, throwing her into a spin with laughter erupting from her lips, and yet it’s Gordon who catches her.

The sound dies and blood rushes to her cheeks. She drops his hand and stares, lips parted, eyes wide.

It’s embarrassing, really.

Virgil has made himself scarce, but her eyes are trained on Gordon alone. In his hands, he holds a present, its yellow bow flopping over like her father’s dog after a long walk, and he smiles, crooked and sweet in its uncertainty.

She can’t bring herself to breathe. His smile falters as his face flushes and he drops his eyes. They stand together and their eyes don’t meet. In one stilted motion, he presses the small box into her palm and turns away.

Their hands never touch, but the gift is still warm. She traces the yellow ribbon as she watches him go.

“Thank you,” she calls out with a rush of courage.

He glances back over his shoulder and shrugs, his smile brilliant between flaming cheeks.

“Welcome, Pen. Happy Christmas.”

And it is.

Later that night, she stares at the neatly wrapped box and turns it over in her hands. She should open it, she knows, but she remembers John telling her how Gordon had agonised over this. He deserves more than a bleary thank you note tainted by exhausted emotion.

She puts the gift aside, ready for Christmas morning when she can take her time.

She wakes up and it’s Christmas Day.

It’s Christmas Day and her father dies.

***

She packs her childhood away and smiles with all the gracious manner he’d always expected of her. People stream through the house; some she hasn’t seen for years and some she’d seen only yesterday. Their comfort is as empty as the house she grew up in.

“We can’t put this off any longer, Penelope.”

Her aunt’s quiet voice breaks through the haze of grief and exhaustion.

“Not yet,” she whispers, watching the door.

“Not even Jeff Tracy can change an international flight plan midcourse. By the time they land, refuel and deal with the bureaucrats in order to get back here, I need to be gone. And you need to be with me.”

She exhales shakily, fighting the tears and tightness in her chest.

“Let me get my things.”

Great Aunt Sylvia nods and Penelope stands. It’s short work but she allows herself to hesitate. She knows what she’s getting into, and there won’t be time for sentimentality in her future. She looks down at the little box she’d placed on her bedside table. She should leave it behind along with her regrets.

She pulls on the ribbon. It’s an impulse and a foolish one, and she can’t stop herself until she holds the gift unwrapped in her hands.

A laugh bubbles out of her, genuine and surprising in the dullness of the day. A pair of door knockers, moulded into the familiar shape of Sherbet, lay gleaming in the tissue paper.

It’s ridiculous and perfect and she can’t help but love it.

“Penelope, dear? No time for dilly-dalliances.”

“I’ll be right down, Aunt Sylvia.”

Penelope collects her things, still biting back a smile. She’ll have them installed while she’s away.

***

Penelope trains in espionage. Gordon joins the military.

She completes her apprenticeship and Jeff Tracy offers her a position. He doesn’t return.

His father dies. She listens, numb, as Scott tries to get through to his superiors. No amount of money or connections will allow Gordon to resurface from his position of deep cover.

Unease settles over the family and no-one asks her to leave the island. So, she stays. She programs her favourite meals into the kitchen computer, hands tools to Brains and tells Parker to look after Mrs Tracy. Her employer is dead, but she’s not sure where else she should be.

Alan follows her around. Virgil sleeps. She doesn’t know what Scott and John are doing, locked away in the study.

Eventually, Gordon comes back. He’s lost his healthy tan and the bags under his eyes look like storm clouds. Still, he laughs as he swings Alan around in a hug, and drags Virgil out of his room, and needles at his other two brothers until they finally tell him the plan moving forward.

International Rescue will continue and Penelope no longer feels like a stranger on the island. The black despair begins to peel back and she can feel the hope and determination they all share.

It’s a gift.

***

He’s bashful.

He’s infuriating.

He’s scared.

He’s ecstatic.

He’s lost.

He’s safe.

His father is alive.

His father is alive and he’s looking at her, joy in his eyes and determination behind his smile.

He slips beneath the cool armour she forged in the wake of her father’s funeral with a kiss.

There’s no time to talk until there is.

He walks his grandmother’s son across the room and turns to her.

He reaches out and she meets him there.

***

It’s a fragile thing between them, still nebulous and undefined. Her breath catches as he slides an arm around her waist and tucks himself against her skin. Great Aunt Sylvia would never approve of such a blatant display. Parker certainly doesn’t.

It’s vulnerable and honest, and so very Gordon, and she tenses as his family’s eyes land on them, bracing herself for the scrutiny to which she’s opening herself. He tugs her close, careless and unrepentant beneath the gentle ribbing and wolf whistles. She can hear the distinct bleep of money being transferred between bank accounts and shoots a glare in Virgil’s direction.

It turns out that no-one finds them very interesting, hardly saying a word and playing with each other’s hands.

He presses a kiss to the corner of her mouth, until it spreads into a smile of her own beneath him. Her eyes flutter closed and she moves to clutch at the hand that cups her cheek.

“Hey,” he whispers, mouth against her skin. “Happy Birthday.”

She pulls away and stares.

“I thought you said we would exchange gifts on Christmas. I haven’t wrapped yours yet, you should have told me and–”

“Pen,” he interrupts, laughing a little. “I said ‘Happy Birthday’. It’s not Christmas time just yet.”

“I don’t understand.”

He shrugs as he reaches behind him with a sheepish grin.

“Well, it’s just I know how it is, being born near a holiday. Gotta imagine being born the day before Christmas lends itself to that combined present crap far too easily for people.” He glances down at the parcel, a faint blush spreading across his cheeks. “I know you said you didn’t want a fuss, but I wanted you to know I was thinking of you today.”

She loves him. The thought is no longer new or surprising but for the first time she embraces it and allows it to warm her heart instead of squirrelling the idea away in a fit of shame. He thought of her and she loves him and she doesn’t care about presents, not really, but no one had ever thought of her like he does.

He hands her a brightly wrapped parcel and she can’t help the dopey smile that grows as she holds it in her hands.

“Thank you, Gordon,” she says, still staring in delight.

“Well, there’s more where that came from.” It’s a self-conscious laugh, tinged with uncertainty and he can’t help himself and the question spills forth. “You like it?”

“I haven’t opened it yet,” she says with a laugh of her own. “But I already love it.”

He looks entirely too pleased with himself, but she knows how to fix that these days. Leaning forward, she kisses him herself, paying no mind to the rest of the family.

“Merry Christmas, darling.”

#thunderbirds are go #tag team secret santa #secret santa 2020 #thunderbirds 2015 #Lady Penelope #Gordon Tracy #Pen and Ink #gordon x penelope

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thiswasinevitableid · 4 years

Note

winter prompt fill 29, indruck, sfw?

29. i should’ve done my shopping a month ago but now i’m running around last minute and when i enter your store, i’m absolutely frazzled. help me.

(Pinecone is borrowed from harrisonator’s fic “Monster Mash”)

Working at Kepler Petco isn’t the worst thing, even during the holiday shopping hellscape months. It’s not like anyone is getting in fistfights over cases of Fancy Feast. Which is why, on the 22nd of December, Duck is unprepared for the sudden sound of hands on hitting the countertop.

“I need help.” The guy’s about his age, silver hair going patchy black near the top, pink and white striped sweater around his neck and a massive sweater hanging off his lanky frame. His red glasses barely conceal brown, anxious eyes.

“Sure, what’re lookin for?”

“Rat treats, the kind that won’t make them ill.”

“Can handle that, right this way.” Duck leaves the counter and leads the guy back to the small mammal section. As they go the man spins a ring on his index finger, flushing under the merciless heating vents.

“I’m sorry for the dramatic entrance. I have a mountain of things to do today and your store closes first.”

Duck glances at the AKC branded clock on the wall, which shows 12:30 p.m, “We close at five.”

“Yes, I know, but I really cannot overstate how behind I am on my Christmas shopping. Or, well, holiday is more accurate, since Joseph celebrates Hanukkah, which means I’m already late on that.” He sighs, runs a finger with chipped black nails through his hair.

“Big family?” Duck points to the row of snacks, grabs the man a basket from the end of the aisle when he starts piling them into his arms.

“Lots of friends. We’re having a party tomorrow and I completely forgot about it until today. I know it’s ridiculous to forget about a holiday where you can’t turn around without being slapped with a reminder of it, but my brain doesn’t always work in the way I’d like it to.”

“No judgement here. Once forgot my sisters birthday until the minute my mom asked if I could get some candles for the cake after school.”

“Oh dear.” The man smiles, the expression shifting from odd to shy when Duck meets his eyes, “thank you for your help.”

Five minutes later the guy heads towards the register, then stops, backtracking to the display of rats, mice, and hamsters. Duck joins him in case he has questions, and to steal another look at his singular features. They’re not handsome on the surface, but something about them draws his eye back over and over. He’s just in time to hear the man cooing to a pair of brown rats.

“...so lovely, aren’t you just charming? If I could I’d take you home but space is limited. Oh” he blushes when he sees Duck, “I’m, ah, ready to pay now.”

“One of your friends got rats?” He indicates the pile of treats the man is buying.

“Hmm? Oh, no, these are for Luna and Emperor, my rats. I wanted to get them presents too.”

Duck can’t decide if the fact the guy prioritized spoiling his pets on the day he had to buy a bunch of gifts is adorable or worrying.

“As I said, I came here because you close first. And I, ah, I like spoiling them. It’s nice to know exactly how to cheer another living thing up.”

“I get that. Pinecone, that’s my, uh, my cat, gets more treats a month than I do.”

“Someone ought to buy you a few, then.” The man murmurs, handing over his debit card.

Duck, caught up in the mechanics of fighting with the card reader, doesn’t realize he’s being flirted with until the man is no more than a silver head merging into the throng outside.

He’s lowkey annoyed with himself the rest of the day; he’s been in the market for a cute guy, and while his mystery shopper may not be Ryan Gosling, but Duck wouldn’t mind getting his number.

Since he opened today, he gets off at three, decides to swing by Crate and Barrel in case the apron he thinks Barclay might like. There’s small hallways dotted through the mall, leading to exits or to backrooms. As he passes one, he gets a glimpse of silver hair and a vibrant scarf. That’s the only good part of what he sees; the man from earlier is pressed close to the shiny wall, trying and failing to get his breathing order.

“Hey, man, you okay?”

He jolts, registers who’s speaking, and looks at the ground, “N-not really. I, part of the reason put this off so long is I can get incredibly overwhelmed in crowds sometimes, and yes I know that makes coming here three days before Christmas even worse an idea but I thought maybe I could handle it, but I’ve only managed to buy two of the gifts I need because I cannot focus with everything going on and, and I’m sorry, here I wanted to charming around you and now you’ve seen this and-”

“What would help?”

“I, I’d like to go somewhere quiet, but there’s nowhere, even the bathrooms are packed.”

“Do you, uh, want to come sit in my car for a bit? I can run the heater so we don’t freeze.”

“That’s really alright?” The question is so small and vulnerable he wants to tuck it into a shoebox to keep it safe.

“Yeah. C’mon, I’m parked on this end.”

It’s snowing on and off as they walk to his car, and as he gets it running and turns on the heat his passenger finally pulls his clenched hands from his pockets; one holds a fidget cube, the other a very small, plush moth.

“I tried so hard to prepare for every possible future.” Is what he gets as explanation. The man sets both items in his lap and shuts his eyes, breathing slowly in and out. Duck says nothing, opens his phone and plays two rounds of Plants vs. Zombies before he hears anything at all from beside him.

“Would you mind turning the radio on, at a low volume?”

“Any requests?” Duck hits the power button.

“No talk radio.”

“Can manage that.” He fiddles around and finds the alternative station. Even it has Christmas songs interspersed with the usual mix.

“Is your name really Duck?”

He wonders if the guy is omnipotent until he remembers his nametag.

“It’s a nickname.”

“I’m Indrid.” He opens his eyes, “thank you for letting me come here to calm down. I may actually manage to succeed in my quest now. It’s so hard, I actually enjoy being out around the lights, the feeling of so many people being happy or trying to do kind things for each other. But it’s easy to get overwhelmed, especially when I’m alone.”

“Would it help if you weren’t?”

“Possibly, but I couldn’t ask you to spend even more time in that mall given you work there.”

“Got some last minute shoppin to do myself. Besides, if you get stuck on a gift, I’m pretty damn good at comin up with ideas.”

“Thank you.” Indrid smiles, excited, and that settles it: Duck is asking for his number after this.

They brave the crowds and the holiday cheer blaring across the speakers once more. The first stop is a store selling housewares, including a pair of small succulents that Indrid deems worthy of giving a friend as he listens to Duck talk about his part time job at the National Forest, laughing when Duck mentions last weeks run-in with a pissed-off migratory bird.

The next few stores are no help, and they opt to take advantage of the lull between when people are done with school and when people are done with work to hit up the coffeeshop, Indrid ordering a white chocolate peppermint mocha and promptly getting whipped cream on his nose. Duck is tempted to kiss it off, settles for handing his new friend a napkin while he talks about his recent return to Kepler after traveling around the country in a Winnebago, selling his art at shows. As luck would have it, the store has a shelf devoted to artisan or local coffees, and they’re each able to find one for someone on their list.

Macy's proves more treacherous, and once five o’ clock hits even Duck is feeling cramped. Indrid is tensing, his replies getting short or far off, and just as Duck is about to offer to dip out again, chilly fingers link with his own.

“Is this alright?”

“Better than alright.” He grins and Indrid holds tighter, breathing in through his nose and out his mouth as Duck guides them into a less crowded corner. The do eventually find some high quality hiking socks that Indrid buys, only letting go of Duck in order to pay.

They reward themselves with dinner at Johnny Rocket, Duck hopping over to Indrid’s side of the booth to see pictures of Emperor and Luna, and show off the photos he has of Pinecone hiding under his ranger jacket.

“One more stop, thank goodness.” It’s going on seven and Duck has to say he agrees; he loves being around Indrid, but his feet are killing him and he’s had “Jingle Bells” stuck in his head for an hour.

Indrid’s last item is at Crate and Barrel, and Duck laughs when the other man goes straight to the aprons.

“You got good taste, I’m gettin’ one of these too. Barclay said he needed a new one.”

A fine-boned hand freezes mid-reach, “Did you say Barclay?”

“Yeah?”

“I am also buying this for a Barclay. Is your Barclay, by chance, dating someone named Joseph and hosting a party tomorrow?”

“Yep.”

They stare at each other, frozen long enough that another shopper passes between them. Then they double over in sync, Duck wheezing out a laugh while Indrid cackles.

“Holy shit, we’ve been shoppin for the same folks!”

“Barclay mentioned there’d be new people at the party but I never thought one of them would be such a catch.”

Duck gets his breathing in order, steps across the faux-hardwood and takes Indrid’s hand.

“Hey, Indrid? You wanna be my date to the party tomorrow?”

“Absolutely.”

“....wait, fuck, which one of us is gonna give him the apron?”

“You can, I have another idea for him. Consider it an early present from me.” Indrid tease.

“Sugar,” Duck slips his hands into Indrid’s back pockets, smiling up at him, “you might just be all the present I need.”

#Indruck #indrid cold/duck newton #winter fills #fluff #meet cute

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sxveme-2 · 4 years

Text

blueberry pancakes // bucky barnes

Description: A single mother. Juggling being a mom, a full time pediatrician, and a difficult ex who believed now would be the best time to finally be a father. A soldier ripped out of time. Ex-assassin turned superhero. Learning how to balance a new domestic life with handling demons of his past, while facing the trials of the future. a love story began over something as simple as chocolate chip pancakes with hidden blueberries.

Disclaimer: I do not own any original Marvel characters! All canon plots and canon characters belong to Marvel Comics and Marvel Studios. This is an original work. You may not publish it anywhere else

Status: Edited

Note: Takes place after endgame. I have elected to ignore Tony's death and Steve's leaving. Did not happen. Quick Reminder! My works are only published here, AO3 and on Wattpad, thank you.

Chapter Eight: The One With the Party

Warnings: N/A

Word Count: 3083

Now, nothing in Lily's life ever really came easy, quick, or without some sort of repercussion. It was as though the universe had decided that she hadn't been through enough in her fairly young life already. Hence why it didn't surprise her when the communication between her and Bucky fell off, or more so, never really started. The day at the cafe had been nice, they didn't exactly speak and they were at separate tables, but even Rose noticed the shy glances her older sister would send to the man across the way. Which of course lead to teasing and taunting the rest of the night and for a few days.

Three weeks later, she hadn't seen him. It didn't help that the hospital had scheduled Lily for multiple shifts of overtime and staying late. Which resulted in Hunter spending extra days at Scott’s, and Lily not being at the cafe as often as she typically was. Flu season had come around and all parents believed their kid may have something more serious, but it was simply a lot of flu vaccinations, the odd time an appendicitis surgery. Routine procedures, just a lot of work.

On a chilly day at the end of September, for once, Lily could wake up without having to go to work for twelve hours or more. Her son snoring gently beside her after crawling into her bed from a nightmare the night before, and Joey snuggled at the end. Her deep green eyes fluttered open as the phone on her nightstand buzzed like crazy. Rubbing her eyes, Lily's other hand reached out to grab hold of the device, blurry eyes seeing Bucky's contact pop up on the screen.

With a groggy voice and a confused expression, Lily slid her thumb across the screen to answer, "Hello?"

"Lady Lily! It's Thor! Son of Odin!" a booming voice yelled into the phone, startling the young blonde. Her eyes glanced to her right to check to see that Hunter still laid fast asleep, and to ensure it stayed that way, the doctor slipped out of the bed and out into the hallway. When she closed the door, Thor continued his yelling, "I have stolen sergeant Barnes’s cellular device! I have overheard him and Captain Rogers discussing his feelings towards you!"

Lily winced at the loud voice radiating through her ear. She hadn't met Thor officially, just seen him with the others at the table weeks before. Personally, Lily wasn't interested in blondes, but no one could deny an attraction to the god. You could be the largest lesbian in the world and still would not mind getting down and dirty with the son of Odin. But of course, for the most part, Lily had only been staring at Bucky. And it didn't go unnoticed to many, especially the other Avengers

"I'm sorry? His attraction?" Lily muttered, still attempting to wake herself up from the much-needed sleep she had been woken up from. She wrapped one arm around herself while resting the other elbow on her hand, shivering slightly at the cool temperature of her home.

"Yes! This is lady Lily correct? If so, then I have an invitation for you! Sergeant Barnes does not know about this, nor does anyone else. But it is our dear friend Sam Wilson’s birthday!" he continued to boast, resulting in Lily holding the phone an inch or so away from her ear, "and I believe it would make Sergeant Barnes happy if you came. And bring your friend and sister! Sam has a small thing for lady Rose."

Before Lily could even answer, there was a crash on the other end of the line and the call went dead. Lily could only assume that Bucky had noticed the conversation taking place and shut it down, leaving Lily with a possibly life-changing decision on her plate, but she didn't know that yet. All she knew, was that Gen and Rose would go to any lengths to get Lily to attend the party, saying things like 'it'll be good for you' or 'you can see your loverboy again'. And Lily couldn't deny, she'd love to see Bucky again. But she'd be damned if she admitted it out loud.

-----

After walking joey, the three Osborne’s loaded into the car and drove down the busy roads of New York to Gen's cafe. Scott was picking Hunter up for the weekend, which meant that Lily was free for the night anyway, so maybe the party wasn't such a bad idea? But if you could deduce anything about the blonde, it's that she hated large gatherings and commotion. It made her anxious and paranoid about something that could go wrong. Plus, last time there was any real party like this in her life, she had been shown a video of her husband locking lips with a young brunette who looked about half his age.

"Hunt why don't you go see if there are any treats you can bring for Leila in the back," Lily whispered to her son with a gentle smirk on her face, "I have to talk to aunt Rose and auntie Gen for a few minutes." she continued, ruffling the boy’s hair and sending him on his way to the kitchen around the corner.

The two girls that were sitting opposite of Lily looked at her with matching skeptical expressions, both of their left eyebrows perked with interest as Lily sent her son away. Whenever this happened, Lily usually seemed to drop a ball on the two. Whether it was when she announced her pregnancy, being chosen as valedictorian, or when she shared the news of her divorce. Typically things that Hunter wouldn't understand, or wasn't old enough to know or mature enough to hear. But this was mostly so he didn't grow saddened at the idea of his mother hanging around his idols.

"So I was woken up by a strange phone call from Bucky Barnes," Lily began, and the two girls across from her simultaneously dropped their jaws. Lily held her finger up to signal that she wasn't finished with her story and for them not to jump ahead and get crazy ideas, "but on the other end was actually Thor. He invited us to Sam's birthday party tonight."

This caused shit-eating grins to replace the curious smiles on Gen and Rose's faces. Rose clapped her hands together, while Gen just shook her head in disbelief. These two women were Lily's closest companions in life. Rose was her biological sister that she had no choice but to deal with, sure, but their relationship was more than that. It was deeper and held more meaning than a simple sister relationship. They could lean on each other in times of need and never kept secrets, as far as the other knew. Most kids with multiple years between them aren't as close or never really bond, but Rose and Lily always clicked. Mostly because of their opposing personalities, which was the same as Gen. Gen was Lily's sister from another mister. From the moment they met, they were perfect, and things hadn't changed in all those years leading to this.

"Well, obviously we're going!" Rose exclaimed, pulling out her phone, "I will get the best dresses from my agency and ensure we look unclockable!" the younger Osborne sister beamed while excusing herself to make a few calls, to make sure they looked as good as she pictured. Rose seemed to forget that Lily hadn't agreed to go, but deep down, the eldest Osborne knew she didn't ave a choice.

"This is great! It'll give you a chance to see Bucky again," Gen winked, sipping her coffee. This was typically how the cycle of Gen's setups began, sort of. Lily would stumble across a guy that seemed interested in her, and Gen would stop at no end to get the two on a date. Of course, Lily never really seemed to have any interest in the guy that her best friend set her up with, but maybe this time was different. Maybe Bucky was different. And that's what Gen prayed about as well, "Maybe get to know him a little more. You get chatty when you're tipsy."

Lily Osborne drunk was a sight to see. All of the fear and anxiety she felt seemed to melt away with the ice cubes in her cup. That's why it was called liquid courage. One of the main signs of Lily being intoxicated was her desire to sing. for years, Lily sang in the choir, but always turned down solos, despite being one of the most talented singers that her school had ever seen. She was terrified that people would laugh at her, but if she was home alone, she sang like an angel. Her voice was soft and supple, and her ability to harmonize was unrivalled. Both Gen and Rose secretly hoped that the avengers would be able to be blessed with the sound of Lily's voice because it truly was as angelic as she was.

"I don't know if I even want to go. You know I don't do parties, let alone one hosted by the king of parties himself, Tony Stark." Lily sighed, twisting the straw in her lemonade around as she nibbled on her bottom lip. Her eyes glanced up to see Rose beaming out the window of the cafe, saying something to a designer or somebody on her phone. She looked so excited, and Lily didn't want to be the one to take that away.

Not after the past few weeks, Rose has had.

"C'mon, Lil," Gen sighed as if reading her best friend’s mind. the brunette reached her hands out and cupped Lily's frail and nimble ones, a soft and gentle look on her face, "Rose is excited. For the first time in weeks. Plus, nothing will happen. I'll be there, and so will Rose. Plus, I doubt Mr. Winter Soldier would ever let anything happen to you anyways. Buddies totally whipped."

"Mr. Winter Soldier? really?"

-----

After Scott had scooped Hunter up from the cafe, Lily stole the two adult women away from whatever they were doing, leading them to the car. But, Lily apparently wasn't allowed to drive. It was around two now, and Lily had to get back home to take joey out on his afternoon walk. But no matter the protests she gave, the younger sister was the one behind the wheel and had control over where they went either way. Lily accepted her fate and leaned back in her seat, attempting to figure out where Rose was have taking them.

Recognizing upstate new york, Lily glanced over towards the blonde that sat next to her. The young mom had figured out exactly what Rose was planning in that mischievous head of hers. One thing with all Osborne’s is their ability to not only think on their feet but figure out what was happening around them without anyone telling them. the art of deduction, in a way. But not that advanced, just piecing together their surroundings and doing the math. And with where they were, Lily knew that Rose had the genius idea to take the two other girls to a hair salon to get all nice and done up.

"Yeah no, I can do my hair," Lily stated, crossing her arms over her chest and putting her foot down. No way in hell was she letting another person that she didn't know, do her hair. She had a perfectly good hairdresser down in the suburbs of Manhattan and was fine with just going there for when she needed a haircut. And today? She did not.

"Let me check again...Gen?" Rose swivelled in her seat to look at the back where Gen sat, attempting to hold back a laugh, "Which one of us is the doctor and which one is the stylist?"

This caused Gen to let her giggles escape as she rested her velvety hand on Lily's shoulder, leaning forward towards her best friend, "Rose makes a fair point. You specialize in children's health, she specializes in adult fashion. C'mon, it'll be fun."

Once again, despite her protests, Lily was overpowered and dragged into the salon. The moment she was asked what style she was looking for, she answered, beating out her younger sister in deciding what would look best. She requested a simple hairstyle, possibly a ponytail of sorts. The hairdresser nodded along and got to work. Luckily, no hair was cut off or changed, and it was a simple styling appointment for her and the other girls.

Half an hour later, the three were back in the car, this time, with Lily behind the wheel. The three sang along to the radio as they returned to lower Manhattan, where the suburbs laid. Lily had managed to convince Rose to do her makeup instead of a hire professional, claiming Rose had the same talents as they did. It was true, Rose was a wizard with a makeup brush. Plus, it was fun to see her sister so focused on something like this. All of the pain of the past few weeks forgotten as she created a beige smokey eye on Lily, an a darker version of the same thing on Gen.

After she glanced in the mirror, Lily didn't believe it was her. She looked matured and awake, instead of the typical baby-faced ball of stress she was on a day-to-day basis. She stared into the mirror with a shocked yet elated look on her face, enjoying the feeling of confidence that rushed through her. She was Lily Osborne, full-time doctor and mother, older sister to two siblings, and a survivor of a toxic relationship. But it seemed that all of that confidence shattered when Rose pulled in a rack of dresses for Lily to try on. All tight around the hips and bust, made for girls with hourglass figures who hadn't given birth to a baby. Something that Lily wouldn't be caught dead in.

"Not happening. I refuse."

-----

Compromise. that's the lesson of this section. Taking other’s options or opinions and your own, and finding a common ground. That was the foundation of Rose and Lily's relationship. Learning to compromise with each other to keep the peace. And that was the result of their dispute of the dresses Rose had brought in. Most of them were sleek and tight, almost like a second skin. And as pretty as Lily felt all done up, she didn't have near enough confidence to rock one of the body-con dresses her sister had brought.

In the end, she decided on something a bit more classic and Lily-like. A lake blue dress with spaghetti straps holding it up. It had silver lace decals spread all across both the lower plunging neckline and a-line tulle skirt that hit just below Lily's mid thigh. A piece of mesh fabric kept the cleavage that Lily had tucked in, instead of placing it on display like the majority of the cocktail dresses Rose had brought in. The deeper blue helped extenuate the green of Lily's eyes, which was complemented by the light golden shimmer that laid atop of her eyelid. Her lips were a pink nude with a touch of gloss to create a shiny effect, and her hair was pulled into a pony connected by two criss-cross pieces of hair, with two strands falling forward to frame her face. One word to sum it all up, breathtaking. Lily radiated in her outfit, and anyone who saw her would have no choice but to agree. And if they didn't? They were either delusional or lying to themselves because she was stunning.

Rose, on the other hand, was embracing the small window of time she had left without showing the baby bump. She adorned a burgundy lace dress that hugged her curves like a glove and came to a halter top point around her neck. Her golden blonde hair laid across her shoulders in a curly river, with deep red lips to compliment the dress. Her eyes were done a bit darker than both Lily and Gen's, making her forest green eyes stand out as well. Rose and Lily were blessed with the looks of their mother. High cheekbones, plump lips and a perfectly sculpted nose that tends to make most jealous. Although Rose knew her worth and understood her beauty, Lily had a harder time coming to terms with it due to the anxiety that plagued her mind. It created a constant reminder that she just wasn't enough, and to try harder.

Gen stayed true to her out-of-the-box aesthetic and wore a suit jacket dress that reached her mid-thigh, with a pair of bright yellow pumps to create a splash of colour in her outfit. Her braids were pulled into a high ponytail, and a darker smokey eye created a glowing ring around the amber eyes that she was blessed with. Her plush and plump lips were painted a deep maroon, and she looked like a businesswoman who had men falling at her feet. When in reality, she was the most easy-going and relaxed person you would probably ever meet, and would rather die than ever be stuck behind a desk at a corporate job.

The three ladies corralled themselves into Lily's car and began their journey towards the avengers compound a bit before the event started. Rose had instructed Lily to leave at a time that would make them fashionably late, to keep Thor guessing whether or not his invitation was accepted or not. Plus it built up the suspicion of the others around the man. Somehow Rose knew all of this, and Lily guessed it was because of her extensive work in the fashion industry. Having to tell people what will make them look their absolute best. Both fashionably, and socially. And who was Lily to argue?

When they did arrive, Lily let out a shaky breath before turning off the car. There was no turning back now. They had drove all of this way, and Lily knew Rose and Gen would be pissed if she chickened out now. Plus, she doubted that they would even let her. Honestly, the two would drag her in by her toes if they had to. Out of Lily's best interest of course. They wanted her to move on and live her life outside of work and Hunter.

"Come on Lil, let's go get the tinman to fall in love with you."

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thefactsofthematter · 4 years

Note

may we have a Softe javid fic to heal us

so i have no idea when this ask was actually sent (probably months ago) but i did START this fic when i got it! then i forgot about the wip and only found it again the other day. so here it finally is!!!

javid; 3.2k; an au in which davey is a rich socialite in the 1850s and it’s heavily inspired by laurie and jo’s meet-cute in little women; not proofread in the slightest

Brooklyn, NY, 1856.

David Jacobs has never been one for these pretentious, formal parties.

Hours of polite smiling, shaking hands with stuffy old people, and gently declining young ladies' requests to dance with him, all while dressed up in a stiff tuxedo— it's hardly a way to spend an evening.

And yet here he is, standing in the corner and nursing a glass of champagne, because Sarah keeps getting them invited to these things and he's not about to let her go off to a party alone. The least he can do is make a good name for his parents, as their polite young socialite son who makes connections with family friends and doesn't get himself into trouble.

"David, darling!"

Here comes Katherine, one of David's best friends and the daughter of the family hosting. She's twirling over to him, clearly feeling just as bubbly as the champagne she's been drinking.

"Hello Miss Pulitzer," he replies, stifling a laugh as he lunges forward to catch her from tripping over her own skirts. "It seems you're having quite the night."

She hardly makes an effort to right herself, seeming content to rest on his arm for a moment.

"Oh, am I ever," she sighs. "I do love when we get to host a big party— it's a bit fun being the centre of attention. And hey, don't you dare Miss Pulitzer me. I can't stand it."

David chuckles as he helps her regain her balance. She lets go of his arm and smoothes out her skirts before tossing her hair and looking every bit ready to continue dancing.

"I know, I know. I'm only being polite," he laughs, though she slaps him playfully on the arm for it. "You look lovely tonight, by the way. Though I surely hope you're not about to ask me to dance, since you know what the answer will be."

She rolls her eyes and sighs dramatically.

"Someday, Jacobs. I'll get you on that dance floor eventually— but no, that's not why I've come to find you. I was hoping I could call in a favour."

David quirks an eyebrow as he sips his drink. Why Katherine might need a favour from him in a house full of servants that literally work to do whatever she needs, he's not sure.

"I suppose," he replies. "But Sarah had me do her a favour by curling her hair tonight, and now I've got dreadful little burns on my fingers, so I'm not in the most generous mood."

"Sarah looks wonderful tonight, so perhaps your burns were worth it," sighs Katherine, hardly making an effort to hide how lovesick she is. She takes his hand to inspect it, and then rolls her eyes. "That's barely anything, you big baby! Surely no one's ever taught you that beauty and pain go hand in hand."

"My shoes are teaching me that right now," he whines. "They're my favourite ones, but they pinch my toes something awful. Anyways... what favour do you need?"

Katherine lights up like she's just remembering she'd asked for a favour in the first place.

"Oh, right! Let's walk and talk for a moment, if I can't convince you to dance." She takes David's elbow and they start to wander through the crowd. They're both well aware of the stares they get: everyone is expecting them to court and eventually marry, and they both know they'll probably go along with it someday. "So... I invited a friend of mine tonight— someone I met at the newspaper— but he doesn't really know anyone else here. I thought since you normally keep to yourself, you could show him around! I really think you two could be great friends."

David almost doesn't catch the way she winks, following those last few words, making her implication clear. He hopes no one catches the way he instantly flushes bright red.

"That's not right, Kath," he hisses, under his breath. "You brought me a date? Is he..." He trails off and giggles a little before whispering in her ear. "Is he quite handsome?"

Katherine laughs out loud and bounces giddily on her toes. For someone who's likely to be his future wife, she's awfully excited at the idea of setting him up for romance.

"Oh, isn't he! You're going to love him." She drops her voice to a whisper. "And before you ask... I'm rather sure where his affections lie— I think you two will get along quite well."

David, rather flustered now, starts to fuss with his hair and tie without even realizing it— until Katherine reaches up and fixes them for him.

"You look dashing," she giggles. "He was nervous to come in here and not know what to do with himself, so he's waiting in the library for now. Somewhere nice and quiet for you two to... get acquainted."

David can feel the heat of his blush on his cheeks and wills desperately for it to go away as Katherine drags him out of the ballroom and down the hall. He skids to a halt as they approach the library, tugging on her arm.

"I'm not ready," he whispers. "I can't do this. You can't just surprise me with a date! Oh, what if he thinks I'm annoying, or I talk too much, or—"

Katherine cuts him off with a giggle and a friendly kiss on the cheek.

"You've got nothing to be worried about, my dear." She straightens his jacket and smiles fondly. "Jack is a sweetheart, and you'll be as charming as ever. Now come on, it's impolite to keep company waiting."

With that, she walks gracefully through the library doors, leaving David scrambling to catch up.

"I'm back!" she sing-songs as she enters. She grins and grabs David's arm, dragging him into view. "I found you a friend!"

His stomach does a backflip as soon as he lays eyes on Jack. He's gorgeous. He's the kind of effortlessly beautiful that Davey has always wished he could be, where it looks like he hardly pays any mind to his appearance but it all just magically works out in his favour. His hair is tousled just the right way and his cheeks are a little rosy under these dim library lights— it's all coming together in order to make David swoon.

"Jack, David," continues Kath, gesturing between them. "David, Jack. Get yourselves acquainted and then come back and join the party! Cheers, boys!"

And then she's off, subtly winking at David as she hurries out of the room.

"Well, hi there," says Jack, laughing a little at Kath's abrupt exit. He extends a hand to shake. "Jack Kelly, pleased to meet you."

David hopes the flush on his cheeks isn't obvious as he shakes Jack's hand and smiles.

"David Jacobs." They release the handshake and it almost seems like they might fall into awkward silence, but David practically goes to parties for a living— he can command some small-talk when he has to. "So... you're a friend of Katherine's from work? I think it's just wonderful that she's gotten so far with her writing."

This manages to get the ball rolling.

"Isn't it?" replies Jack with a grin. "I draw the pictures for lots of her pieces and boy can she write. She's a real... oh what was that word she said... a wordsmith! That's it!"

David can't help but laugh. There's something about Jack that intrigues him, but he can't quite put his finger on what. He seems different from most of the snooty socialite people he's used to hanging around with— even just the way he talks, he seems more real.

"So Katherine told me you might need a little introduction to this whole..." he trails off and waves a hand absentmindedly as he tries to find the right word, "party scene. You might be best to turn around and head back home, if I'm being honest— I find the whole thing a little tedious."

Jack cocks an eyebrow. Upon a closer look, he seems a little uncomfortable in his suit, like he's not sure how to carry himself. It's like he's scared he'll slip up and make a wrong move, or something.

"Isn't it just wine, fancy food, and dancing? Sounds like it can't be all that bad," he chuckles, and then he gently takes David's hands in his own. Jack's hands are calloused and a little stained— likely ink, since he'd mentioned he draws for a living— and they make an almost poetic contrast to David's pale ones. "How 'bout you give me a dancing lesson right now?"

David's heart nearly beats right out of his chest. Oh god. This is a lot to handle. That was incredibly forward, and he sure hopes it means what he thinks it means. Are they flirting right now?

"I— I'm not much of a dancer," he laughs, sheepishly. "I mostly just stand around and watch. I tend to be a bit of a wallflower when it comes to crowds."

Jack starts to sway absentmindedly while still holding David's hands. They can still hear the music from the ballroom, and he seems to have the musicality to at least move along with the notes.

"Surely the girls are all over you," he chuckles. "You just break their hearts and won't even give 'em a dance?"

David blushes even harder, if that's possible. He remembers what Kath had said earlier— that she was quite sure Jack felt similarly about his attraction— so he laughs softly and decides to test the waters.

"I'm not all that interested in ladies," he says, and it takes a fair bit of courage to force those words out. Sarah and Katherine are the only ones who know about his... disinterest, simply because they're in the same boat. It's not something that feels like it should be talked about. This statement was at least general enough that he could brush it off, say it's because he's too focused on his studies.

There's a moment of knowing eye contact between them, during which David lets out a sigh of relief. They both know why Katherine introduced them. They're still holding hands, standing awfully close together, and David's scared Jack might be able to hear his heart pounding.

"Me neither," whispers Jack, after a long second of silence. He's not subtle with the way his gaze flicks to David's lips and then back up. He suddenly seems to notice how forward he's being, and he practically jumps backwards, before brushing his hands on his pants and looking up with a sheepish smile. "So, what if we don't even go into the ball? If neither one of us wants to dance with the girls, we can just dance in here, by ourselves!"

David's not sure he's ever wanted anything more. That sounds incredible. He freezes up in crowds, but if it's just the two of them, he might actually be able to remember some of the dances that he's watched so many times before.

"I'd like that," says David, his voice remarkably soft and his heart fluttering. "May I have this dance, Mr. Kelly?"

"I'd be honoured, Mr. Jacobs. You're gonna have to help me out though, I've got two left feet."

Slowly, hesitantly, they waltz their way around the library, constantly giggling as they trip over their own feet. Neither one of them was lying about not knowing how to dance— they're a mess— but it's delightful just moving along together with no one around to see.

Eventually, they start to make up their own moves, flailing and twirling their bodies however they want to, and David has never had so much fun. They jump and bounce around to the upbeat songs, laughing all the while like a couple of rowdy children. It's wonderful.

After several songs of dancing, they find themselves flopping onto the little couch to give their feet a rest. They're both still laughing as they try to catch their breath— Jack loosens his tie and unbuttons his jacket, which is certainly improper but also incredibly attractive.

"Thanks for that, Davey," sighs Jack, and David's heart practically leaps into his throat at the nickname. "Much better than dancing with any girls, in my opinion."

Davey laughs and drops his gaze to the floor.

"I can't help but agree," he says, still a little on-edge. "You make wonderful company."

There's a moment of quiet, filled only by the crackle of the fireplace. Davey has an overwhelming urge to take Jack's hand in his own, but he's far too nervous.

"Tell me something about yourself," Jack finally says, turning to Davey with a smile. "I'd like to get to know you better. What do you do for fun?"

Davey almost laughs. He's not sure of the last time he did anything that was purely for his own enjoyment. His life is about pleasing other people— his family, his tutors, and all the other wealthy folk that they try so hard to impress.

"Well, I like to read," he eventually settles on. He folds his hands nervously in his lap. "When I was living in France with my uncle last year, he had this grand library. I would sometimes sneak in there and read the fantasy novels— as silly as that is. It's awfully embarrassing, but I rather enjoyed it."

"Now that's not embarrassing," says Jack, still smiling, charming Davey even further with every moment that passes. "Who doesn't love a good story? And, wow— living in France? Do you speak the language, then?"

Davey hates how hard he's blushing right now. He's never had someone be so genuinely interested in what he has to say— it's a new and almost alarming experience.

His time in France was a very lonely experience: stuck in his elderly uncle's massive home, far away from his dear brother and sister, all because his parents had decided he needed to learn to be more cultured. All he really learned was how to keep himself entertained during long days with nothing to do— but at least it's something interesting to talk about now, he supposes.

"Bien oui," he responds, revelling in the way Jack's eyes light up in excitement. "C'est ma langue préférée. Tu sais... y'en a des gens qui disent que c'est la langue d'amour. J'avais mes doutes, mais peut-être je les crois, maintenant."

Jack clearly doesn't understand a word of it, but he seems thoroughly impressed.

"Wow..." he says, almost as if he's star-struck. "That's incredible."

Davey laughs softly, a little embarrassed at being the center of attention.

"Enough about me," he chuckles, desperate to get out of the spotlight. "You said you're an artist— is it something you've always been interested in?"

Jack looks a little caught off-guard to suddenly become the topic of conversation, but he recovers quickly.

"Oh, for sure. I started drawing as soon as I could hold a pencil." He gestures with his hands as he talks, which is entirely endearing. "I just do little cartoons in the paper, as far as right now, and I paint sets for a theatre in the Bowery when I have time, but I'd love to sell a painting of my own someday."

"I'd love to buy one," says Davey, finally mustering up the courage to place a hand on top of Jack's. "I'm sure they're beautiful."

It's Jack's turn to blush, which is oddly satisfying for Davey. They're holding hands on the little couch in this dimly lit library— Davey feels like one of the characters from the novels he's read, as this whole situation seems too good to be true.

"Can I tell you a secret?" Jack asks, after a moment. He's got a mischievous grin on his face, but he looks a little nervous as well. "You can't tell anyone else."

Davey smiles right back.

"Of course you can," he says, brushing his thumb gently on the back of Jack's hand. "I've been told I'm a wonderful listener— at least my sister thinks so."

Jack laughs softly and looks down at his lap. It almost seems as if he's trying to build up the courage to tell his secret.

"Okay..." he sighs, and then he continues in a whisper. "I'm not supposed to be here."

Davey can't help but frown in confusion.

"What on earth do you mean? Katherine invited you, and she's the hostess! Surely that means she wanted you to come."

Jack laughs nervously again. He shifts uncomfortably in his seat.

"No, I mean... I've never been to a fancy party like this, no less in a house this nice. This ain't even my suit— I'm borrowing from Kath's brother. I've never owned no suit this dapper. I'm, uh... not like the rest of you, if that makes sense."

Oh. That's where it clicks for Davey. It suddenly makes sense why Jack talks a little differently, and why he'd been so impressed by Davey's mention of a trip to France— not everyone is born into the kind of wealth that makes that possible. That's why he'd waited in the library rather than come into the party; he probably wouldn't know what to do with himself.

It's not like Davey only hangs out with people of his own social status, but he has to admit that he doesn't know many people like Jack. Most of his friends— the very few that he has— are from boarding school, or these ridiculously uptight social events, although he's always felt like he doesn't quite fit in with them. He's always wished to be more... normal.

"Ah, well that's quite alright," Davey replies, since he's truly not sure what kind of response Jack was expecting. "It's not all it's cracked up to be, if I'm being honest. Forgive my language, but I do tire of hanging around with all these blue-bloods."

If only his father could hear him use a silly word like that. It's a funny term he'd learned to refer to wealthy people, and he'd probably get a smack around the back of the head for saying it in front of his family. Jack, however, just laughs.

"You're awful funny, Jacobs," he says. "And nicer than most rich folks, too. I can see why Kath wanted to introduce us."

Once again, Davey blushes. He curses his own pale complexion, because even in the low lighting, Jack has clearly noticed.

"She's quite the matchmaker," he replies with a chuckle. "Two of our friends are married now, thanks to her."

Jack leans in a little closer, and Davey can feel his heartbeat in his throat.

"Is that so?" he asks. "She must know what she's doing, then."

He's looking at Davey's lips again, and they go quiet for a moment. This doesn't even feel real— Davey almost has the urge to pinch himself and check if he's dreaming.

He takes a deep breath, as subtly as possible.

"I'd like it if you kissed me," he whispers, finally breaking the tension.

"I'd like that too," Jack replies, and then he oh-so carefully presses their lips together.

It's everything Davey could've hoped for.

They don't even notice Katherine and Sarah peeking in to check on them— nothing could possibly break this magical moment. It feels like they're exactly where the universe intended for them to be.

@landlessbud @i-got-personality @alovelymoonbeam @penzyroamin @graceful-popcorn @auspicioustarantula @backgroundensemble @magimerlyn @myheartissetinmotion @papesdontsellthemselves @jack-kellys @big-potato-asshole @stop-the-presses @starrysence @wilde-guess @never-fear-brooklyns-here @fandom-fangirl07 @theresagoodchanceicouldfly @dying-poet @asphodelnerd @agressive-cinnamon-roll @daveysexual @soft-colors-and-such @move-your-elbow

#my writing #javid #jack kelly #david jacobs #davey jacobs #katherine pulitzer #newsies fic

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thathawaiianchick · 5 years

Text

my wolfstar fic recc

29 of my favs, plus 2 comics :)

sorted from shortest to longest, series at the bottom

i like long fics, i like raising Harry AUs, i like Lay Low at Lupin’s fics, i like marauder era “we’re 70′s trash fics”, i like angst, but i also love “everybody lives”, kind of a mix of everything but seriously a lot of raising Harry AUs because it fills a need i guess

some super popular, some relative unknowns i think

all fics that characterize wolfstar for me :)

JKR has disappointed me supremely, but fan works will hold my love forever

part 2 because i forgot some

STANDALONES

1. A Day Like Any Other by dustmouth

(a comic, not really a fic, just hosted on AO3)

The one where Sirius keeps receiving unwanted mail, Remus drinks a lot of tea, Peter's out on a hot date, and James is offering unwanted make overs.

(Or the answer to the question of exactly how many cursed letters can you flush down the loo).

2. To Keep a Star by dustmouth

(a comic, not really a fic, just hosted on AO3)

Daily life in the Intergalactic Postal Service. Or the one where Sirius is a postal star and Remus lives on a spaceship.

3. in your bedroom, during the war by lupinely

There’s the bed, there’s the room, and there’s Remus. This, at least, Sirius knows for sure. (4Kish)

4. Home We’ll Go by appalachian_fireflies

"I can't, I don't know how," Remus stuttered as Molly dropped the infant into his arms, who immediately ceased crying and stared up at him with wide eyes.

"Nonsense," Molly said. "Be a dear and keep him from falling while I feed Ginny."

"Ba!" Ron giggled, and slapped Remus in the face.

Molly is the emergency contact for the Order when those listed can no longer be reached. Remus' life finds a different path. (10K)

5. A Store of Happiness by coyotesuspect

Harry spends the summer after his third year living with Sirius and Professor Lupin. (10K)

6. In The Bed by bigblackdog

Left to his own devices the summer after the prank, Sirius crafts an unusual gift to mend his relationship with Remus. (11K)

7. Vigil Strange I Kept by whitmans_kiss

Remus' lycanthropy has caused his body to seriously deteriorate over the years due to the constant stress of the transformations, and by his fifty-sixth birthday, it's certain that he won't live to finish out the year. However, a cure has recently been discovered - but what if the cure is just as bad as the disease? (11K)

8. Elucidation Practice by montparnasse

Christmas, 1978. Remus, wrestling with the mighty problems of gift-giving on a budget, contemplates life, love, London in winter, and falling off the edge of the world with Sirius Black. (21K)

9. On a Windswept Cliff by starfishstar

On the cliff top where the fearsome Lord Black once stalked, an outcast man meets a big black dog, and things are not as they seem.

Or: The Remus/Sirius gothic romance AU. (21K)

10. Lethe and Mnemosyne by montparnasse

Winter '79. Looking to get out from under the black-hole overhang of wartime, Sirius and Remus take off to play house on the Cornish moors. It goes downhill from there. (26K)

11. Purity by FelisA

Sirius resurrection fic. (27K) 12. Common Woodbrown by imochan

Look well into thyself; there is a source of strength which will always spring up if thou wilt always look there. In 1985, Remus Lupin realizes that Sirius Black is innocent. Now, he just has to prove it. (36K)

13. Wilde and Whimsy by chasing bluefish, obsob

In a world where Dumbledore defeated Voldemort during the first war, the wizarding community is picking up the pieces and getting back to their lives. Remus Lupin becomes a person of interest in a murder at the bookshop where he works and Sirius Black and James Potter, aurors, are sent to investigate. As they navigate the crime itself, Remus and Sirius realize that there is something to their instant chemistry. But they need to keep their newfound attraction under wraps while trying to find the killer and stop them from claiming more victims. (36K)

14. Paper Wings by Krislaughs

(not hosted on ao3)

What if Sirius Black sent a final message from Azkaban? Enter the home of the last Marauder in the days following Voldemort’s downfall. Lost and alone, Remus asks a question of the void, a question whose answer will send him around the world. Meeting puppies, Kneazles, dementors, and nomads, Remus learns more about himself and his friends than he ever thought possible. Learn the secrets of the Marauder’s map and the world’s best chocolate, how various Death Eaters occupied themselves after the fall of their lord, and why you should never leave Remembralls lying around.

15. Uncreated Night by earlybloomingparentheses

Remus can drift through whole worlds in his own mind. Sirius lives in his body, electric, ablaze. In 1979 and 1996 and 1978 and 1981 and in many other years and many different places, they search for the bridges between them and the spaces they can share. Time after time, they fight their way back together, head and heart, mind and body.

And in 1998, Remus stands before the veil, wondering if he should finally stop thinking, and just act. (41.5K)

16. Lemon Chiffon Yellow by Spklvr

An unplanned night between Remus and Tonks ends up changing their lives forever. (42K)

17. The Weather Inside by earlybloomingparentheses

Sirius rides a flying motorbike, and snogs strangers in pubs, and strikes moody poses Remus finds irritatingly attractive. But for Remus, who drinks milky tea and wears flannel pyjamas, there's a chasm cracked right down the fault line between wanting and doing.

How he wants, though. How he wants. (43K)

18. the dogfather by hollimichele

“I’m not a reverse werewolf either,” says the man. “I’m your godfather.” (47K)

19. Domestic Creatures by veeagainst

Growing up is hard to do -- but the journey is better if you take someone with you. (53K)

20. Leave the Children Behind by montparnasse

Bravery, sometimes, is the ending just as much as the beginning. Remus, Sirius, and a series of choices.

Or, a love story—backwards and forwards. (54K)

21. A Series of Sketches Done in Black Ink by mustntgetmy

Non-magic AU. Sirius had always imagined the aftermath of falling in love would mean lightness, and an escape from all the horrors of his childhood. But the past never leaves, and even love can't stop bad memories from resurfacing.

An almost year in the life of Sirius and Remus's first year as a couple replete with art and tangled sheets, and containing the following: filled sketchbook pages from people lost and people found, terrible biscuits from an excellent therapist, mismatched music records, expensive hot chocolate, a lost brother, photographs (some invasive and some invoking terrible memories), a reckoning with the past, a promise of the future, and yet another ridiculously over the top Halloween party. (57K)

22. Alt Ed by NachoDiablo

“Remus? Who the bloody hell is Remus?” James is scrambling to straighten his chair as McGonagall glares at him from the head table.

Mary smiles innocently. “Oh, just a new friend that Lily met over the holidays. He’s homeschooled, just moved into her neighborhood it seems. She says he’s very clever. And I hear he’s quite fit, as well.”

AU where Remus and Lily become friends outside of Hogwarts, setting James and Sirius on a quest to learn more about this mysterious newcomer. (61K)

23. Indiana Lupin and the Search for the Conqueror by nekarose

Remus Lupin is an undercover archaeologist for the British Museum and is sent to Greenland to investigate a Roman shipwreck. In Greenland he meets Sirius Black, makes a real discovery and soon enough the two of them are racing through the world in search of the remains of the Library of Alexandria with Remus’ arch-enemy right at their heels. (66K)

24. Le Mot Vagabond by ironicallyinternational

(It all starts with Peter Pettigrew dying twice.

First, Peter kills Wormtail (discreetly), and then Sirius kills him (less discreetly).

Losing a friend is never easy, even amidst the ravages of war, but losing the last of your childhood alongside him is far worse.)

War is a complicated, messy thing. The Marauders have their fucked up shit to deal with, but they also have each other, and that counts for a lot. (151K)

SERIES:

25. The Hole in the Ground by sostrata

(5 works) A series of fics about Sirius and Remus raising Harry in their home, The Hole in the Ground. (18k)

26. Holding Out by bigblackbog

(works 2)

On Halloween, 1981 Sirius and Remus abscond with Harry despite their recently rocky relationship. (36K)

27. Maddest House by busaikko

(6 works)

old as hell. Another wolfstar raising Harry fic (55K)

28. Lycanthropic Studies by Eiiri

(3 works)

After the Battle of Hogwarts, Remus recognizes something familiar in Draco Malfoy and offers him sanctuary. With nowhere else to turn--his parents in prison, his home a crime scene--Draco reluctantly accepts and becomes a tolerated, if not welcome, member of his schoolyard rivals' and wartime adversaries' family of choice. As pages of the lunar calendar turn and the summer wears on,Draco and the others begin to see each other in a different light. (139K)

29. Stealing Harryverse by copperbadge

(works 12)

On a dark night long ago, Sirius Black took a wrong turn and never found Peter Pettigrew. Instead of Azkaban, Sirius settled down in Little Whinging to keep an eye on his godson, and hired Remus Lupin to run his bookshop for him. Then one day when Harry was eight, Sirius found out how the Dursleys treated him, and stole him away.

Stealing Harry is an alternate universe version of Harry Potter's life before his time at Hogwarts. It is the story of Harry's family: Sirius and Remus, Ted and Andromeda, Nymphadora, Neville Longbottom, and even Severus Snape, all banded together against a newly powerful Peter Pettigrew who is still searching for a way to resurrect Voldemort.

Laocoon's Children follows Harry through his time at Hogwarts as he develops a very different group of friends: Hufflepuff Draco Malfoy, Ravenclaw Padma Patil, and Gryffindor Neville Longbottom, strange companions for a Harry who was sorted into Slytherin -- the house of his beloved Professor Snape.

This universe ends in Harry's third year, and is partially incomplete. As it is not likely to be finished, the last story in the series is a group of notes I made on where the story would have gone and how it would have ended. (443.3K)

30. All the Young Dudes by MsKingBean89

(4 works)

LONG fic charting the marauders' time at Hogwarts (and beyond) from Remus' PoV - diversion from canon in that Remus's father died and he was raised in a children's home, and is a bit rough around the edges. Otherwise canon-compliant. 1971 - 1995 (557K)

31. Crow Rides A Pale Horse by tb_ll57

(4 works)

The note pinned to his collar read 'Harry J Potter - please accept'. The Dursleys had left him with nothing else but a pillow sack with half a sleeve of McVities biscuits, a mealy apple, and ten pounds. (618K)

#hp #harry potter #wolfstar #remus lupin #sirius black #killing sirius was not punk rock jk rowling #nor was killing off remus #this is the barest reason to want to kick jkr #reference for myself #i dont have all of these bookmarked on ao3 even if they're some of my favs #raising harry #fic rec #this only took me an hour to make i can't believe i've been procrastinating this #lolol yes i can #i can believe

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razorblade180 · 4 years

Text

interdimensional Dads 3

Jaune:Alright, you’re up Blue. Tell all about a world where we manage to get our Beacon crush. That’s how I know you aren’t lying when you say there’s magic in your Remnant again.

Jaune:Magic had nothing to do with it! It’s called time and life. Also I told her I was going to cut my hair and she felt appalled so I didn’t. She told me how much she loves it a little shaggy.

...

Jaune:What?

Jaune:(Did cutting my hair really change my life that much?) It’s nothing, continue.

Jaune:Okay? Well, where to start? I guess the magic is as good of a place as any. Not much on the surface has changed. The climate seems to be a bit more intense though. The gods are back as well, but no one knows exactly where.

Jaune:It’s not on any map?

Jaune:No, apparently it’s constantly changing. Those who get close to finding it usually get turned around by something. Even Oscar doesn’t know.

Jaune:Oscar is still himself? Oz didn’t take over?

Jaune:Why would be? We saved the world and he got to move on. Oscar does however still have all the memories and experience. Not to mention the one hell of a fighter. Though these days he prefers using all that knowledge for counciling.

Jaune:Good for him.

Jaune:He’s a therapist? Huh, yeah he’s definitely been through hell and back in all of our lives. I never really stop to think how crazy it all was.

Jaune:He’s also married to Penny.

Jaune:Penny is back!?

Jaune:Your world is kicking my world’s ass.

Jaune:It’s pretty wild for sure. Yet it feels vaguely normal. Most of my time is spent still doing huntsman work. I take bodyguard missions mostly these days since they normally aren’t as dangerous. Saving towns from grimm is something I have to leave to the others like Ruby. Weiss gets a little anxious otherwise; even more than the kids do these days.

Jaune:Now for the good part, gushing about your kids.

Jaune:*smiling* Nicholas and Summer Schnee, my little Twin Snowflakes. Both sixteen and quite the handful.

Jaune:You know of any of us needed to have twins, I’m glad it’s the one who married into wealth.

Jaune:Well you’re sorta right. However, Weiss was cut off for years until her father wrote her back into the family on his deathbed. So she’s become financially savvy from having to live in Argus for years. That includes the kids when they were little and even a pet dog. I’d like to think we’ve both grown up through the years but she’s definitely changed more than me.

Jaune:I think that might be true for all of us.

Jaune:Hehe, I got a feeling you’re right.

Jaune:Yeah my Weiss has gone through some shit and took it strides as well.

Jaune:Anyways, being rich is nice but we did pretty fine before it. Yeah we had to work constantly but it’s not like there wasn’t anybody we couldn’t ask for help. I say by far the craziest thing about my world is team RWBY is now a connected on the family tree and then some.

Jaune:Wait...that would mean- who married a Schnee besides you! Qrow married Winter and that’s it right!? Right!?

Jaune:*smiling* Is someone a little jealous of thinking about a world where Ruby married Whitley?

Jaune:...A little.

Jaune:I guess I can spare you those details then. Just know they’ve done some real good for Remnant.

Jaune:That, I didn’t doubt for a second. It’s just a little weird hearing she isn’t with me.

Jaune:You named your kids after Weiss’s grandfather and Ruby’s mom?

Jaune:Nick is the future heir and Summer got her name because....sigh

....

Jaune:It was the right thing to do.

The other’s didn’t probe that avenue any further. Without saying anything, they already knew.

Jaune:Ruby must really appreciate that.

Jaune:Yeah. She might not realize it but she shows a little bias to Summer because of it. Not that Nick particularly cares. I think he might enjoy not being on someone’s radar for once.

Jaune:Let me guess, Mr. Popular?

Jaune:President at combat school, runner up in regionals, gold in figure skating, future heir, master of promoting various events and hosting parties. Kid has it made, and yet...

Jaune:He doesn’t seem to be having fun? I think we might’ve found a similar thread between our kids.

Jaune:Makes sense. Nick has the same problem I still have sometimes.

Jaune:Overthinking?

Jaune:Taking the blow for others?

Jaune:Burdening himself for no reason.

Jaune:Yes....

Jaune:Oh...

Jaune:He’s the kind of kid who finds a way to finish work quickly so he can finish other work faster; in a never ending loop. All for the sake of making others lives easier. This also causes him to tunnel vision sometimes and not really ask what that person wanted in the first place. That, or he puts himself in a position where he doesn’t get to enjoy being a teenager. It’s partly the reason why Weiss and I don’t give him too much slack whenever he does something for the fun of it.

Jaune.Even in a time of peace, someone like him is taking a lot of responsibilities. Not sure if that’s an Arc thing or a Schnee thing.

Jaune:Trust me, it’s both. He seems to be handling it well though. Weiss really gets on him about taking time to just be himself. Honestly it feels like there’s a couple times he’s even trying to put on a face for us instead of cameras. Fortunately people like Valerie and Veronica seem to cut through that act.

Jaune:Oooh, lady friends?

Jaune:Valerie is Ren and Nora’s kid. He has a giant crush on her but I sort of think he tries too hard and should consider looking elsewhere.

Jaune:That’s ironic coming from you.

Jaune:That’s how you know it’s bad. Me, the guy who wrote a terrible song just to get a date to the dance. To be fair he’s not that bad but I feel like he’ll end crushing his confidence. I mean Veronica would be nice. Blake and Yang’s daughter has a thing for him that’s just as obvious for his crush on Val.

Jaune:(Huh, that’s two sets of different kids from the same parents now. I guess some relationships are harder to change than others.) Nick sounds like a fine young man. I bet things will workout. He seems bright.

Jaune:Yeah, I just hope nothing blows up in his face. As for Summer, she’s practically the spitting image of her mother except with my eyes and light blonde hair. She’s pretty timid and a really kind girl. Smart as a whip too! Definitely got that from her mom; as well as her singing.

Jaune:She performs?

Jaune:Yeah, Atlas loves her music. She has good range, learned guitar from yours truly, tops the charts sometimes in other kingdoms, and genuinely seems to enjoy the life of a singer.

Jaune:But she’s timid?

Jaune:Yeah. Off the stage, she tries to get by life like a background character, but still wants to hang around Nick who’s always in a spotlight! When she was younger she got into a incident with dust that severely injured her. Thankfully she lived but now Summer has several scars over her body that she can’t stand. Also...that wasn’t all she got. Scars are least of her problems. The dust mixed with her cells in unexpected ways.

Jaune:Over exposer, did she get some sort of chronic illness or deficiency?

Jaune:Honestly, we don’t know what to call it. Whenever she gets too cold, Summer changes. Her hair goes white, eyes look like mother, and her personality does a 180. More than that actually. It’s more like she’s been possessed and what’s nothing more to rule everything. We call it Shiva. We have it under control mostly after ten years of dealing with it but there’s still scares now and then. Whatever Shiva is, she’s strong and capable of terrible things. Thankfully no casualties yet, but plenty of close calls and extra scars for almost everyone involved. The mental strain it puts on Summer almost seems crippling. I...don’t really know what to do about it at this point. She’s been distant, and I feel like she isn’t telling me something.

Jaune:....

Jaune:Well...you haven’t lost anything yet right?

Jaune:Huh?

Jaune:Don’t look so bummed. Ten years and nothing too tragic to show for it. Maybe it’s luck, or everyone is way stronger than this problem after all. Including your daughter. Trust me, daughters are way stronger than what father’s give them credit for.

Jaune:Ha, you know he might be on to something with that. You heard my story. Yujin was keeping things together for a long time. That being said, they’re still our little angels and can only go so far. Eventually they’re gonna wish to see someone like their dear old dad to to lean on. That’s our job after all.

Jaune:Yep. You’ll figure it. Like you said, you’re not alone.

Jaune:I might have a daughter but I know a thing or two about distant kids. Take it a step at a time, and let them know you’re always there.

Jaune:...*smiles* Thanks guys.

Jaune:No problem!

Jaune:I wonder what’s up with those two right now? Probably training for their tournament no doubt.

xxxx

Training is putting it lightly. The cold Argus air is filled with smoke as a fire burns in the forest. Nick kneels with his sword stabbed int ground. His body trembles from exhaustion and sweat runs down his face while his hands still grip the blade handle til his palms bleed. Surrounding him is Apathy as pale as ghost with ghastly blue eyes that make them look like they’re right out of horror movie.

Though he’s tired, he manages to lift his head up and see his sister on her hands and knees, not as roughed up as him but more drained from the grimm. Summer looked at her brother with eyes that constantly flickered between shades of blue before turning the shade of their father’s. Summer fell forward, all motivation to move taken away.

Nick:You okay...?

Summer:Y-Yeah...thanks. Sorry.

Nick:Next time....we’ll bring Ruby just in case.

He found the strength to walk towards his sister and carried her on his back. The summoned Apathy keeping a certain range around them like a dome as he walked. Summer found whatever strength she had to raise her right hand up and snapped her fingers. A cool wind came off her finger tips and snuffed out flames before it got out of hand.

Summer:Can’t have this place burning down right?

Nick:You’re gonna get cold again.

Summer:She’s tired...and I’m spent. Even if she comes out, my body can’t move so...zzzzz

Nick:Sigh, saw that coming.

Nicholas walked as fast as his body let him. Abandoning both of their swords in favor or retrieving them later. They’d gotten lucky, the sun was out and he had handled the situation before Shiva could find her stride. Warm clothing also did its part.

He felt Summer shift around on his back and started moving faster. He hated this part.

Nick:I don’t wanna talk to you.

Shiva:That’s no way to treat family.

Nick:But an icicle to the leg is?

Shiva:How else was I supposed to slow you down? You’ve gotten stronger, dodging it the way you did. How unpleasant for me. I’ll aim higher next time, I’ll make sure not to rough up that money maker of yours though.

Nick:Next time I’ll throw you in the fire so you’ll be too tired to talk. Your days are numbered. It must be a pain dealing with me and trying to keep control. Sooner or later you won’t be able to do anything but lose until Summer snuffs you out. Then you’ll be nothing more than a bad dream.

Shiva:....Hmmm aha!

Shiva:I’ve decided then. I guess I’ll just have to kill you first before that happens.

A chill went down his spine as he could feel her ice cold breath hit his ear as she whispersed...

Shiva:Let’s see if I’ll be a bad dream them.

Nick looked over his shoulder and saw nothing but his sister’s sleeping face. Not a sign of anyone or anything else; just peaceful slumber. The boy continued walking in silence. He was still sweating, still trembling, but no longer from the cold. Exhaustion crumbled to adrenaline. He started going back to the sight of their training to grab his sword. After all, who knows what could happen on the way back?

Part 2

Start reading Twin Snoflakes?< Part subzero

#rwby #rwby au #the void #jaune arc #rwby twin snowflakes #summer schnee #nicholas schnee #rwby knightshade #rwby whiteknight #rwby lancaster #rwby dragonslayer

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samgtt700 · 4 years

Text

The Will of Time

Chapter Three

Chapter One, Chapter Two

Kamilah x MC

Alice watched the party with a strange feeling in her stomach. Being with Kamilah’s loved ones was an unexpected surprise and she couldn’t tell them the truth without confusing or even putting her in danger. She turned away, making her way to the large balcony overlooking Alexandria. The moon lighting up the sky in a way she had never seen before. “I understand why you miss home.” Alice began to understand how Kamilah missed her home, the small things adding up. Missing her home, missing her wife, her Kamilah. She wanted to find a way home but was unsure if she could get home, not wanting to wait 2000 years for her.

“You disappear well.” Lysimachus walked over. Handing Alice a full cup of wine before stepping back to admire her, a coy smile on his face. “To our queen.”

Alice smirked. “To our queen.” Toasting to the queen in her life. Sipping a little before turning back to the view of Alexandria. “Do you miss your home when your not here?”

“Home isn’t a place. It’s what my father taught me.” Lysimachus smiled. “It’s your family. Who you wish to spend your life with.”

“Have you found your wife yet?”

“If you left it to the elders. I’d marry my sister.” Lysimachus chuckled.

Alice choked on her wine a little. “What?!”

“I have no intentions of following them.” Lysimachus smirked. “But I am grateful to know your feelings on the matter.”

Alice put down her wine. “I- I don’t think I would share very well.”

“Share?” Lysimachus raised an eyebrow. “Why the hell would we-“

“Not important right now.” Alice looked over his shoulder. Fireworks lighting up the night sky. “Wow.”

Lysimachus stepped up beside her. Seeing the smile spread across Alice’s face. As if she had never seen anything like this. “Have you never seen fireworks before?”

“Not in a sky so clear. Where I live. You can’t see the stars.” Alice admitted. “The world is different where I’m from.” She went to turn back when Lysimachus pressed his thumb underneath her chin.

“You intrigue me so much. And yet. you seem familiar.” Lysimachus couldn’t work it out. Alice was a puzzle, one he was eager to crack but every time he thought he had worked her out. She did something to throw him again. “I don’t think I’ve ever met someone like you.”

Alice smiled. But removed his hand politely. “You never will again.” She crossed her arms. Catching Kamilah by the door watching. “Kamilah.”

“Alice.” Kamilah walked out. Seeing Alice glance away from her, unsure why before turning her attention to her brother. “Octavian is pushing again. Cleopatra will call on the army.”

“I will go to war again.” Lysimachus knew. Alice working out quickly from the information she had that Lysimachus would die soon.

Alice asked. “Do you two need a minute?”

“I would appreciate it.” Kamilah smiled.

Alice stepping out, their voices speaking in a hushed but urgent tone, feeling Kamilah’s rising tension, something that was not often felt but Alice could always tell. She wasn’t able to do her normal tricks to relief her tension. Alice walked downstairs, hands crossed, tapping her fingertips to distract herself, rejoining the party. Finding the nearest wine jug and pouring a few rather quickly in succession, needing some liquid strength. Feeling the familiar human heartbeat she’d come to quickly recognise.

“You said you’ve been to one before?” Kamilah spoke up beside her. Her hand trailing up Alice’s arm, “I quite enjoy them when my cousin isn’t hosting.”

“Yes.” Alice hid her smile behind her wine. “Don’t worry too much about your cousin.” She grasped Kamilah’s hand, the touch so familiar yet wasn’t her Kamilah. She gently squeezed. “She won’t be well remembered.”

“Can you tell the future now?”

“I know enough about people.” Alice caught Kamilah’s side glance. “See something you like?”

“When I like something.” Kamilah put her hand on Alice’s hip, walking until Alice felt her back pressed up against a pillar. “I tend to make the first move.” She closed the distance between them. Alice closing her eyes. Kamilah smirking, her lips mere inches away, she could have easily kissed her but pulled away. “I did notice you politely rejected my brothers advances.”

“I’m not interested in Lysimachus. He’s not the one I chose to share my life with.” Alice held up her left hand. “I wear this as a sign of my commitment.”

“It’s beautiful. Seems like your wife has fine taste.” Kamilah said, her fingertips brushing over the wedding band, pushing her lips to Alice’s hand, feeling an electricity spark between them. A small chuckle leaving Alice. A small cough coming from behind them. Kamilah stepping back. Alice pushing away from the pillar.

Lysimachus joined them. “Has our dear cousin made her speech yet?”

“No. Wish she would. I’d finally be able to leave.”

“You haven’t changed at all.” Alice let slip.

“What?” Both the twins turned to her.

Alice catching something strange behind Kamilah. “Get down.” She shoved Kamilah aside. Taking the blast. Groaning as she hit the pillar behind her. “Agh.” She gritted her teeth, the taste of fresh blood lingering.

“Alice!” Lysimachus helped Alice to her feet. “What the hell was that?” His hands squeezing Alice, unsure what was happening as multiple fires broke out.

The sorcerer stood amidst the chaos, fire spreading from his fingertips. The palace burning hot. “You took my whole world Kamilah Sayeed! I will tear yours to the ground!”

Alice spotted Kamilah across the room holding her side, hidden behind a pillar, grimacing before sliding to the floor. “Lysimachus. I need your sword.”

“I need it more.” Lysimachus gripped the hilt. “It’s my sword. I can protect you.”

“Give me your sword or Kamilah will die!” Alice glared. Lysimachus swore Alice’s eyes turned red for a split second before reluctantly handing over his sword. “You need to get out of here.”

Alice moved closer to Kamilah, sticking to cover. Feeling the heat of the flames, it wouldn’t be long until the palace was burnt out.

“Kamilah! Face your death with honour!”

Kamilah glanced around the corner, going to step out when a hand on her shoulder stopped her. turning to see Alice. “Alice?”

“Stay quiet.” Alice pulled back to examine the wound, the smell of blood hitting her nose. Alice screwed her hands into fists, needing to feed. The urge beginning of overwhelm her.

“Alice. He wants me.”

“No.” Alice cupped her face. Her blood smearing Kamilah’s cheek. “Stay hidden. Let me handle him. For once. You have to let me fight. Alone.”

“Once?”

“I’ll explain everything later. I promise.” Alice picked up Lysimachus sword before stepping out. Catching the sorcerers attention.

“You.” He glared. “You should be dead.”

Alice flicked her hand, preparing for a fight. Not wanting to waste time. “Walk away. And I won’t harm you.” She could feel his blood pulsing through his veins, but it wasn’t human, he was something else. “Your not human.”

“No. I am not. I have Xenocrates to be thankful for. He trained me how to fight your kind after what Kamilah Sayeed did to my family.” His hands flared with fire. The flames drawing back to him, engulfing him.

Alice wasn’t sure if she was immune to fire, but she was about to find out.

“You married that witch! She never atoned, never paid for her crimes! She shouldn’t be revered!”

Alice charged and jumped the fire, slicing his chest before landing, rolling to her feet and turning to see the damage. His chest healing as he spoke a foreign language. “Shit.” She whispered.

“Was that your best shot?” He smirked, softly clapping. “The wife of Kamilah Sayeed relies on her heavily.”

Alice’s eyes flared red, her fangs descending. The sorcerer hurled fireballs towards Alice, waiting, watching as she dodged and used her powers to divert and block. He charged in, conjuring a blade of fire. Slamming into Alice with all his momentum. But she barely slid a step. “What?” He contorted, “impossible! No one can survive-”

Alice pushed him back, before slamming him with a physic blast. Hurling him through the burning wall into the street. She charged after him, raising her hand to shield herself from the fires spreading. Sighing aloud when she saw him retreating, holding his side. She wanted to go after him but heard a cry of pain, turning and seeing Lysimachus struggling on his knees. Alice sensing he had inhaled too much smoke. “Lysimachus!” She sprinted over, kneeling beside him. “Where’s Kamilah?”

“Inside. I tried to get to her- wait, stop Alice!” Lysimachus watched Alice sprint inside, the flames swallowing behind her, blocking the exit. “Alice! Fucking hell!”

Alice raised her arm, pushing her way through to Kamilah, slowing down her heartbeat, barely breathing to stop herself from inhaling the smoke. She spotted Kamilah, her body still on the floor. “Kamilah!” Alice sprinted over, quickly feeling her heartbeat, rapidly fading. “Come on.” She scooped her up with ease, searching for an exit. Trying to find something, anything for them to escape but flames consumed everything. Holding everything that was precious to her, not wanting any harm to come to her, her heart racing at the thought of losing her. Alice led Kamilah upstairs, searching for the balcony when she heard a murmur.

“Alice.” Kamilah barely spoke, her lips cracked.

Alice knelt, cupping Kamilah’s face within her hand. “Hey. I’m getting you out of here. I need you to hang in there. Everything is going to be okay, I promise.” she knew there only one option left, tapping into her physic powers and slamming a hole in the nearby wall, revealing a straight shot to outside. Alice charging through and landing in the Nile with a large splash.

Lysimachus saw Alice jump and land in the Nile. Struggling to fathom how anyone could survive the fall. He sprinted down to the water, watching as Alice calmly stepped out, Kamilah safe in her arms. “Kamilah!” He rushed to their side, Alice examining her wound before ripping some of her dress and wrapping it around.

“Do you have somewhere we can lie low?!” Alice asked, not wanting to stay in the open. Unsure where the sorcerer went. Gritting her teeth when she realised Lysimachus was shaken by how hurt his sister was. “Lysimachus!”

“What the hell was that?!” Lysimachus gripped Alice’s dress, “Why did he want my sister?”

“I don’t know...” Alice surveyed their surroundings, “Lysimachus. We need to get out of here. Lay somewhere low.”

“I know a place.” Lysimachus went to grab his sister when Alice stopped him. “She’s my sister!”

Alice stood, Kamilah’s head resting on her shoulder. She pressed the lightest of kisses to her forehead. Whispering. “You better make it. Or I’ll never forgive myself.”

Lysimachus grabbed his sister from Alice, leading them away from the palace to a small fishing boat. Alice pushing them out before jumping in, Lysimachus steering them down out of Alexandria and towards the swampland.

“Where are you taking us?” Alice asked. Her eyes on Kamilah, on her wound. Wanting, needing her to be okay. If she died here. Would she die in her future? Would she have to live an eternity without her.

“The swamplands. Should give us a few days to recover.” Lysimachus explained. His hands trembling, Alice feeling how erratic his heartbeat was. “And for you to tell me everything.”

——————————————————————————

Kamiah rubbed her temple. Unsure who he was or why he was after her. All she knew was that Alice was missing and had no answers to her whereabouts. Her only concern was getting Alice back at the moment. She had no idea where her attacker was, Lily combed through the footage of the attack and they were still at square one.

“I can’t find Alice anywhere in the world. She’s disappeared off the face of the planet. Her phone isn’t getting a signal.” Lily has tried everything to find her best friend. “I’m sorry Kamilah. I want to find her as much as you. It’s Alice.”

“It isn’t your fault.” Kamilah poured herself a glass of Japanese whiskey. “I don’t know why this person wants me. What I did to him.” She sighed, annoyed at herself off letting Alice get hurt. “I swear if he hurts her-”

“Yeah. I know. You’ll burn the whole world down for her.” Lily didn’t look up, mumbling more than speaking aloud.

Kamilah almost choked on her drink. “Wait! How do you know that?”

“Alice and me talk a lot. I figured it was your line to begin with. Alice didn’t seem like the type to burn the world down. Well, she didn’t until that day.” Lily remembered it vividly. “It’s been almost a decade and it still feels like yesterday sometimes.”

“Alice doesn’t like to talk about it.” Kamilah admitted, every year Alice struggled and Kamilah accepted it would take time for her to accept what happened, that she couldn’t change anything no matter how much she thought about what if. “I don’t think she ever will.”

“She lost her brother. We all did.”

Kamilah had lost a brother before but watching Jax sacrifice himself for Alice was something she never expected, vampires didn’t make a habit of sacrificing themselves for others, but Kamilah would forever be grateful because of the life she now shared with Alice. “We’re landing.” Kamilah felt the planes descent.

“So... who are we visiting in New Orleans?”

Kamilah finished her whiskey, putting the empty glass aside. “You’ll see soon enough.” Not enough time to reminisce, needing answers and hopefully New Orleans would provide them.

Lily bugged Kamilah all the way to the seemingly abandoned warehouse. “Seedy much?” Lily poked around before spotting some of the new equipment. “Oh wow. They have a cool setup. This bar is slick.”

“Lily. What- stop that. This is a construction site, you can’t just snoop.” Kamilah pinched the bridge of her nose, a deep sigh leaving her. “I’m surrounded by idiots.”

“You should be careful about poking your head in places. You never know what you might find.” Serafine stopped beside the duo. “To what to do I owe the pleasure mon amie?” Glancing more at Kamilah.

Kamilah huffed. “Alice was thrown through a portal. I hope you could help us.”

“Do you know where she is now?”

“No.” Kamilah felt a strange sensation when she answered. Buried memories trying to surface. She pushed them to the back of her mind. Focusing on the problem at hand.

Lily opened her laptop. Playing the footage for Serafine. “I’ve watched it but it’s straight out marvel portal shit. I ain’t got any answers.”

“It’s clear he’s well trained. He’s not an amateur.” Serafine quickly concluded. “Whoever your attacker is. He disappeared in his own portal.”

“Do you think you can see where he went?” Kamilah asked Lily. “Use the satellite to track the energy coming from his portal.” Kamilah massaging her head. Her head throbbing before a searing pain hit her side, pressing a hand there, feeling warm blood on her fingertips. Pulling back to see fresh blood, human blood. “Serafine.” She barely called out before collapsing in a pool of her own blood.

“Kamilah.” Serafine and Lily rushed to her side. “What the hell is going on?” Serafine felt Kamilah’s forehead. “She’s running a temperature. Something is happening.” Serafine’s saw blood soaking through Kamilah’s shirt, ripping it open and seeing the wound on her side forming. “Let’s get her back to my apartment. I’ll organise some blood on the way.” Serafine and Lily picked up Kamilah.

“Do you know what’s causing this?” Lily asked.

“No. But I hope finding Alice will give us answers.” Serafine made a phone call. “Hey. It’s Serafine. Can you meet me at my apartment. Bring Katherine. We might need her help.”

“Will do.” A male voice hung up.

Chapter Four

Tags: @mrskamilxh, @wildsayeed, @made-me-deep-blue, @thequeenofbaddecisions, @iam-the-fuckin-queen, @witchesplayatnight, @kamilahsqueen, @kamilahsayeed-owns-me, @kamilah-sayeed-let-me-love-you, @h-doodles, @playallthechoices, @kamilahforever, @kamilahsayeet2063, @kamilah-the-bloodqueen, @helpconfusedpersonhere, @scarlet-letter-a0114, @nydeiri. My tag list is playing up so if you don’t get tagged, let me know. Let me know if you want to be added!

Masterlist

#kamilah sayeed #kamilah x mc #kamilah sayeed x mc #bloodbound #bb lysimachus #bb mc #choices bloodbound #bloodbound kamilah #bloodbound kamilah sayeed #choices: bloodbound #lily spencer #mc x kamilah sayeed #bloodbound mc #mc x kamilah #choices fanfic #the will of time

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jihyuncompass · 3 years

Text

V Flower Shop AU Headcanons

The second half of this request from @otherlandshark ! My goodness I’ve missed my dear Mint man <3. I tried to keep it mostly fluffy, but there’s a little bit of angst in there. Since I can’t help myself. I hope you enjoy this Shark! Love you lots!

Warnings: Mentions of Suicide (Relating to Rika)

Jihyun/V

The first time you saw him had been in early spring.

The weather was starting to get warmer, flower blossoms starting to grow on the ground and on the trees.

On that warm spring day the sound of the bell by the door ringing grabbed your attention.

You’d been working on your newest flower arrangement. Bunches of flowers scattered around your table. The fragrant scent overwhelming your senses.

Tearing your gaze from your work your eyes met the Mint eyed stranger in the doorway.

You shouted out a greeting to him, your usual “Welcome in!” that you told every customer when they came in.

The man had smiled and greeted you back. His voice was warm and gentle, a voice that just radiated comfort.

You did return to your work, but your eyes kept wandering towards the man. Watching him as he admired the arrangements you’d put together earlier in the day.

Keeping your gaze careful you made sure he didn’t notice how you were watching him.

After looking around for a while he eventually came to the counter with a bouquet in hand.

“Is this all for you?” You asked. He nodded. “Are these for anyone special?” You asked.

“Yes.” The man said with a warm smile. “They’re for my fiance. Rika.”

You finished wrapping the bouquet and taking the money from him. “Well this is a perfect choice for a romantic partner. I’m sure your Rika is a lucky woman.”

He’d lifted the bouquet to rest in the crook of his arm and thanked you. You’d watched him as he left, the warmth in his voice lingered in your mind.

You’d returned to your arrangement in progress. Lifting the yellow daffodils to add in for the next one.

The mint haired man returned again a few weeks later. This time he was followed by someone, a bright eyed blonde woman.

You tried not to eavesdrop on them. Still, you couldn’t help but look at them, and listen to the way they spoke.

“What do you think of these, beloved?” The man asked.

“They’re beautiful V.” She said, her voice like the man, V’s, was gentle. “I think they’d look beautiful on the kitchen table.”

“I agree.” He said. He looked up towards your work table briefly meeting your eyes. You smiled politely and returned to your work. Forcing your eyes to stay attentive to your work. Greeting them both with a smile when they did approach your table to check out.

He returned many times. Sometimes with his beloved Rika, sometimes alone. At one point he was coming in almost once a week to pick up a new bouquet.

You made small talk with him, each time learning a little more about him. His name was V, though that wasn’t his birth name. He was a photographer, he and his fiance had a charity group they ran together.

He talked passionately about the RFA, Rika’s Fundraising Association. Named for his fiance. He often talked about the members, and their upcoming events.

His love for the organization was shown when he’d asked if you’d be willing to provide flowers as decorations for their upcoming party. You’d agreed in a heartbeat, spending long nights arranging carefully constructed bouquets.

The first time you saw V away from the flower shop was at this party. You arrived at the party venue an hour before the event’s start time, wearing your work apron and your car full of flower arrangements.

You’d were briefly questioned by a brown haired woman with a clipboard and RFA badge. Asking if you were the florist, if you had identification. You explained that V had paid upfront for these, and asked where they should go.

V was in the main hall, dressed in a tailor made suit, beside him was Rika, wearing a dress clearly designed to match her fiance’s. They were speaking with a tall dark haired man with a serious expression, the serious looking man looked familiar somehow. Maybe you’d seen him somewhere.

Like you did at the shop, you did your best to not eavesdrop. You were here for a job after all, and one that did pay very well.

“I didn’t see you come in.” V’s voice pulled you from your mind. He was standing in front of you, his eyes looking right into yours, his eyes moved to the arrangements. “These are wonderful. I knew you would make something perfect.” V said.

“I’m glad you like them!” You said, your cheeks red from his compliment. “This is quite the event you have here.”

V’s smile grew. “Yes, we’re hosting many important people tonight. We’re hoping we’ll be able to raise money for a good cause.”

“What are you raising money for?” You asked out of curiosity.

“This time we’re raising money for children in orphanages. The money will go to finding good homes, and giving them a brighter future.” He admired the bouquets again. “Your choices of flowers always amaze me. They’re always so perfectly chosen.”

Your face burned more. “You’re extremely kind V. I always want to make the best arrangements I can. I’m glad you appreciate them.”

“I do, and I’m sure our party guests will too.”

“Well.” You said clearing your throat. “Next time you host a charity party, I’ll do the arrangements for free.”

V’s eyes widened. “I couldn’t ask that of you. You deserve to be paid for your work.”

You shook your head. “The work you do is important, I want to do my part.”

V’s surprised face shifted to a warm one. “Well then. I may take you up on that offer.” You still felt the warmth in your cheeks, still you smiled at him.

He continued to shop at your store nearly every week. Yet you started to notice some changes over time.

At first it was small, he looked more tired. Then Rika stopped coming in with him as much, and when they did come in they didn’t look like their normally blissful selves.

Then you brought flowers to the next party, and as you set the bouquets up you heard the sound of the couple arguing behind a closed door. You didn’t hear their words, still, you heard the harsh tones.

Then, a few weeks after that party. V stopped coming all together.

A few days after you realized, you saw an article in the paper.

RFA founder and Photographer’s Fiance Rika Kim dies of Suicide.

You stared at the photo of V’s beloved Rika printed in black and white. Apparently she’d thrown herself off a cliff and into the ocean. Reading it your heart ached for V. You wanted to reach out to him, make sure he was okay, but you had no real way to contact him.

You made a special flower arrangement. And sent it to the funeral home listed to be handling her celebration of life. In it, a note to V expressing your condolences.

Weeks, months passed without seeing V again. He was like a ghost, one moment he’d been a part of your weekly routine and then he was gone.

Seasons changed, the trees growing and losing their leaves. All the while, you thought about the gentle mint eyed V. How kind he was, how thoughtfully he chose bouquets. How he always knew every flower's meaning. His love of daffodils.

A year and a half passed. You struggled to remember V’s face now, his voice only existing in your memory, yet every time you added a daffodil to an arrangement. The memories of him would come rushing back.

The warmth of the late summer forced you to wipe away sweat from your brow. You made sure your fan was on while you watered the potted plants on one end of the store. You gently poured the water from your watering can, making sure not to overwater the vibrant green plants.

The ringing of the bell up made you stand up straight. You turned towards the door to greet the customer before your words got caught in your throat.

V was standing in the doorway. However, now he wore a pair of dark sunglasses and a white cane held in his hand. Still, it was V. The V you had missed so much.

“V?” You asked. The man’s head turned toward the sound of your voice. “It’s been so long.” You said.

V looked sheepish. “Yes, it has been a long time.”

You set down your watering can. “I heard about Rika. I’m so sorry for your loss.”

He sighed. “Yes, I got your bouquet too. It was very beautiful.”

Your smile was tense. “Thank you.” You looked him up and down, your eyes getting stuck on the cane. “Is there something I can help you find, V?”

He took a shaky breath in. “Yes actually. I’m looking for an arrangement but-” He sighed. “My eyesight, it’s pretty much entirely gone now. So I wouldn’t know where to start looking.”

You looked at your work table then back at V.

“I’ll make you one.” You said. “I’ll make sure it smells good, for you.” You walked towards V, carefully taking the man’s arm.

V smiled, his ears tinted pink “I’d hate for you to go to so much work for me.”

You smiled. “Never too much. Especially not for my favorite customer.” You led him to the chair by your work table so you could start his arrangement. “Now, would you like daffodils? I know they’re your favorite.”

V pressed his lips together. “Actually, do you have the Lily of the Valley?”

You smiled. “I do. Why that flower if I may ask?”

Behind his glasses you saw his glassy eyes close. “I like their significance.”

“The Return to Happiness” You said quietly. V nodded. “Well, I’ll make sure there’s plenty of them for you.”

V left the shop holding his bouquet. A small smile still on his face, and a large one on yours.

He returned the next week, and you had already prepared a new arrangement for him. One where the fragrance of the flowers was most important.

The two of you continued that, every week. Each week with a new bouquet made only for him. And each time, you added flowers to express your feelings for him. Wishes of happiness, of healing.

Of friendship.

Of love.

V came in at his usual time, while you finished up his order for the week. You called out a greeting to him, making sure he safely made it to the counter.

“This one has the season’s newest blooms” You said, holding it close so he could smell. “I think the smell is really nice, it’s not too strong but it’s still very present.”

V took the wrapped bouquet. But he seemed quieter than usual, and you noticed the pink tinge in his ears.

“V?” You asked. “Everything okay?”

“I don’t want to be too forward but.” V started.

“Yes?”

“There’s an event being held at the nearby gardens. To celebrate the new season. I was wondering, if you would like to go with me?”

You smiled and reached out to gently touch his hand.

“I would love to.”

#mystic messenger #mysme #v #jihyun kim #kim jihyun #mysme v #v x mc #headcanons #oh BOY i've missed headcanons #very refreshing <3

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amymel86 · 4 years

Text

Inspired by this post

A while ago I made @vivilove-jonsa a promise - that I wouldn’t post anything new (bar my drabble event entries) until I’d finished Redamancy. I could work on new things - but not post.

So here’s my chance to sort of cheat (Ssshhh! No one tell Vivi!)

This is a kind of modern post-apocalyptic ish au (and is currently untitled) - basically a couple of decades after a global pandemic, the majority of the world’s female population is left infertile and the government are providing incentives and schemes to try and boost the efforts to repopulate.

Guess which girl is left fertile?? (I know, I know, predictable, right? I don’t even care - I’m having fun)

You’ll see this is very rough - there’s notes in there for myself where I’ve not made up my mind about stuff - even stuff that’s already there may well get changed.

But I’d like to share some of what I have already if you guys don’t mind (and Vivi doesn’t kill me)...

I’d also like to invite other authors to share some of their WIP!

“They’re offering money now,” Anya’s plummy whisper carried through from the kitchen. Sansa paused. She’d been getting ready for hers and Harry’s night out - one of many, but she loved them. She adored the heady buzz of her dirty margaritas and the belly-warming glow she felt when Harry would keep her close, proud to have her on his arm. Sansa found that she craved distractions and her well-to-do boyfriend certainly was that. “There’s a whole package of incentives, Harry, you really should consider it.”

With fingers rolling the cut jet beads of her long-looped necklace, Sansa hovers between seconds, waiting to hear Harry’s answer. She’d asked him before; about having a baby. The new normal is not having to worry about all that – or worrying far too much.

Just over a decade ago, the highly contagious disease, [[NAME DISEASE]] spread its vicious reach throughout the population of Westeros; a disease that the infected had a coin’s toss chance of surviving, but left a staggering amount of surviving women barren. Left in the virus’s wake, there were also women like Sansa – anomalies. With seemingly no medical explanation, the [[disease name]] allowed them to keep hold of both their lives, and their ability to reproduce.

Sansa had thought, what with her having the rare ability to give Harry children, he would have been enthused by the idea when she’d broached the subject. Instead, he’d brushed it aside, seemingly uninterested.

And now his mother is getting involved. Anya Waynwood; a greying woman whose age has left her no less formidable both on a personable level and on a business one. Sansa knows this since she works directly under her at Waynwood’s Estates and Lettings.

“Think of it,” Anya whispers, filling the silence, “a baby of your own, with beautiful sandy hair and chubby cheeks. Just like you. You were such a happy babe.”

“Mother,” Harry starts. Sansa can hear him place his beer bottle down on the polished marble kitchen island. She begins to worry her lip as she listens. “Just because Sansa’s a peach, it doesn’t mean we’re going to have a baby.” She winced at that. ‘A peach’ – it’s not quite a derogatory term for a woman like her – a fertile, but it’s not considered polite either. Still, it’s better than when creeps find out what she is and start to tell her she’s ‘ripe for the plucking’... she supposes. She’s a novelty to them – her and women like her. They’re the kind of guys that search that subsection of illegal porn dedicated to the genre of ‘peaches’ for filthy connoisseurs with a breeding kink.

Harry’s not like that. He’s always been careful when they were intimate... well... he’s always finished in a way that would be biologically impossible to result in a pregnancy anyway. And... he cares for her... doesn’t he?

The thing is, Sansa really would like to have a child. The gods allowed her that ability for some reason, surely? Having a child might bring a sorely missed smile to her mother’s face – a smile that hasn’t really appeared since the virus took father and Robb away. They could bundle up their precious babe and take a trip up north to Winterfell and-

“I don’t even like children,” Harry continued, making Sansa frown. “I can’t even remember the last time I saw anyone under the age of... I don’t know... sixteen? I wouldn’t know what to do with a baby.”

“Well, that’s what Sansa’s for.”

Sansa rolled her eyes so hard they hurt. She’s tempted to go out there and show her face so that this conversation can peter off into the silence that that particular comment deserves. She could picture Anya’s expression perfectly during her next words; brows raised in expectancy, a devious twinkle in her eye and her coral pink painted lips twitching upward in a smirk.

“The government are offering a 15k incentive for the first baby, and all medical bills taken care of. There’s even talk of a new housing development especially for breeders. Now doesn’t that sound like it’s worth considering?”

Urgh. ‘Breeders’. Sansa hates that one too. There’s been rumours of these ‘repopulation incentive packages’, but she hadn’t realised they’d be so... generous. If-... if Harry’s convinced then she could send some extra money up to her mother for Bran’s chair – might even be able to get some to Arya wherever she is, off backpacking, living from youth hostel to youth hostel.

“Mum,” Harry lowers his voice, the deep timbre of it only just making it to Sansa’s ears. She moves closer to the bedroom door, tilting her head as if that would help her hear better. “I... I can’t.”

“Nonsense, of course-“

“No, Mum. I can’t. I can’t have children. I’ve been tested.”

Sansa’s heart thumpity-thumped against her ribs. She’s not meant to be hearing this... and yet at the same time, she feels like she should be hearing this.

Anya sounded aghast. “What do you mean? Of course you can have children!”

“You remember Cissy and Saffron?”

Harry’s exes. But he’d said that Sansa was his first girlfriend who was also a fertile so why-

“Your other peaches? Yes.”

Oh.... Oh no.

“Well it wasn’t like I was careful with them. It never happened because it can’t. I can’t... It just... never happened and so I got tested and I’m... I’m okay with never having kids.”

Sansa’s gut started to roll.

Where was that damned dirty margarita?

***

“And what’s your marital status, dear?” the older woman asked over her wire-rimmed glasses.

Sansa swallowed. “Single.” It hadn’t taken long for her to come to the conclusion that Harry was no different than all the others. She, as ‘his peach’ was purely a status symbol to hang on his arm. Oh, she could kick herself now for all the times she enjoyed his attentions and how he loved to show her off. Why hadn’t she seen it sooner? Harry didn’t care about her. He didn’t see a future with her. All he cared about was his own significance and status. But, of course, as soon as she’d broken things off with her darling son, Anya had made her working life a living hell. Sansa needed more options but she knows Anya is loathed to give her a good job reference and she’s hardly qualified for anything above partying her life away to distract herself and minimum wage. She can’t afford to stop sending her mum money for her medication, and Bran needed his physiotherapy sessions and a new chair. All the equations point towards sticking it out at Waynwood Estates but -

“A pretty thing like you? That is surprising!” the woman – a Mrs S Mordane as per the name plate on her desk – says with a small smile.

Sansa shrugs, not wanting to get into the nitty-gritty of the failings of her love-life – and especially not with a stranger in a little cubicle at The Vale Council Offices. She clears her throat. “I-I heard there was some sort of matching service?”

The woman’s eyes light up behind her spectacles. “Oh, yes. Is that something you’re interested in?”

Well, she needed to do something.

“I... I don’t know. Can you tell me more?”

A bundle of leaflets were handed over to Sansa before Mrs Mordane tap-tapped on her computer to print out even more information for her. “We have a whole host of potentially lucky fellas for you to choose from. They’ve all been extensively quizzed and along with the answers from your questionnaire –“ she paused, nodding her head towards the handful of papers now in Sansa’s grasp, “ – we’ll be able to narrow down who might be best suited for you.”

Sansa’s eyes fell to the leaflet on top. There was a photograph of a smiling, gummy baby. “A-and then what?”

***

“That fucking dipshit crook! I’m gonna fucking kill him the next time he’s at Hobb’s I’ll-“

Jon opened his trailer door with a creak and a slam to see what all the racket was about. It was Mance, of course. No one else ‘round here for miles anyhow. He squints his one good eye at the sun reflecting off the sandy dirt that led up to Mance’s farmhouse.

“I’ll kill ‘im, Jon! I will!” the man exclaimed when he’d caught sight of him, right before he kicked up some of the dust beneath his tattered leather boots.

Leaning his shoulder against the door frame, Jon smirked as his sight adjusted to the blinding sun. “Who you killin’ this time old man?”

“That damn bastard Slynt, that’s who!”

Jon straightened. Slynt owned a chain of used car lots in the area. His branches in the two nearest towns always sent cars for fixing straight to him and Mance. It was a slow but steady influx of work and meant that Mance could afford to keep his property and his land from falling into the hands of the tax man – which also meant Jon could continue to live there too; in his trailer parked up beside the farmhouse.

They really needed those cars to fix.

“Shit.”

“Yeah. ‘Shit’ is ‘bout right, boy.”

***

It didn’t take too long for Mance to come and find him later that day. Normally, unless they’re working on a vehicle together, Mance leaves him well enough alone until dinner time which suits Jon just fine. But here he is peering into the old barn, finding Jon working on the project he has going for himself. The old man had told him not to purchase it – the broken down compact utility tractor – but they’d been visiting a farm closure auction for possible parts and Jon fancied himself to be able to fix up the piece of machinery and sell it on. Turns out, it needs more parts replacing to get it going than he’d originally anticipated, but Jon was nothing but determined to make this baby purr into life again. Jon straightened, wiping his oily hands in an old rag while his one good eye followed Mance as he approached.

“I been thinkin’.”

Jon snorted quietly.

Mance ignored him. “With what we got in the bank, those council folk will be sniffin’ ‘round here, comin’ to take my land from me in little more than 4 months – 6 tops.”

Fuck. OK, he knew they’d needed Slynt’s cars but he hadn’t known it was this dyer. He felt his tongue roll around his mouth as though he could find a solution between his teeth. “We need more cars to fix.” Mance pierced him with a ‘no shit, dumbass’ kind of look making Jon sigh. “We can go into town, post flyers, fix folk’s cars up ready for their M.O.Ts, fuckin’ clean and polish ‘em too if it comes to that.”

“[[INSERT NAME OF TOWN]] has a population of about 200, 202 if yer countin’ us. And half of ‘em are either poor as dirt or just as handy with a wrench as you an’ me. Ain’t nobody keepin’ us afloat from that town, boy.”

Jon’s gaze drifted around the dusty old barn. “We could go further afield, to [[INSERT TOWN]] or [[INSERT TOWN]], even go as far as [[INSERT TO----]]

“It’s not gonna work, Snow.”

“Well we gotta try somethin’!” Jon hollered, slamming the rusted hood of his tractor down with a loud clang. He paced away, dirty hand running through dirty hair. “What about the land?” he asked, staring at the ancient farming equipment abandoned in the corner of the barn, left unused for a few decades a least. “Your family used to farm the land. We could too.” He turned to look at Mance. Sure, they’d have to clear at least one field of decaying vehicle carcasses and other miscellaneous rusted objects, and the rest is currently being strangled by a carpet of brambles. But they could do it, couldn’t they? The Rayder’s used to be grain farmers before the land was handed down to Mance and he, already a mechanic by trade had had no love nor want to carry on the tradition.

Mance blinked at him, his lips twisting in consideration. “That would take a long time to get going, Snow. Longer than we can afford.”

Jon felt a prickle up his spine. The words ‘well have you got any smart ideas, then wise-ass?!’ right on the tip of his tongue when Mance interrupts.

“I’ve been on the phone with a woman. A woman at the council.”

Jon flung his arms into the air, giving his back to Mance while he shook his head in dismay. Great. Now they know we’re in trouble. They’ll be sniffin’ ‘round here sooner.

“She was talkin’ ‘bout a scheme,” the old man continued

“Financial aid?”

“Not exactly. You sign up for the scheme an’ if yer selected they... well, they go easy on yer for taxes an’ they give yer some money too.”

Jon turned to face him again, a furrow to his brow. “That don’t sound right. Why would they go easy on taxes and give us money? They ain’t gonna do that, old man.”

“They will if there’s gonna be a wee baby on the property.”

What?!

#Jonsa #jon x sansa #jonsa fic #wip wednesday

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jungkookiebus · 5 years

Text

the future is not fine | jhs

Genre: dystopian au, smut Pairing: club scene!Hoseok x club scene!reader Word Count: 3.5k Warnings: heavy drug use (the reader takes acid), mentions alcohol and smoking weed, cunnilingus, multiple orgasms, hallucinations, this is the dark future where people have ruined the Earth and are paying the consequences. Summary: In a world where everything went downhill after 2020, people are itching to forget and live lives without care. For some, that means going to mysterious parties hosted by an anonymous donor. The text comes through in a group chat, with numbers you’ll never save or remember, and you drop whatever it is you’re doing to go. In the future, when the world is rampant with economic disaster and war, you can self-medicate yourself with the flick of a wrist and succumb to the music. That’s when you meet him, the mysterious dancer that brings color into your dull life, if just for a moment.

The sky was a burst of oranges, purples, reds, and bright yellows. The salt of the ocean was fresh on the air as you swayed to the music in the breeze. You opened your eyes momentarily to stare out over the water, watching the sun ripple across its diaphanous surface. ‘Party starts at sunset.’ the invitation had said. Yet another rather anonymous party at some rich kid’s house. Everyone came to these parties, but only when you ran with these crowds. The only way someone could be indoctrinated into this “elite” club of sorts, was to be brought on by someone in the chain. Most people realized this life wasn’t for them amongst the drugs and alcohol. So, they left. Which was all good and fine because it kept the numbers even; making it easier to host at more anonymous venues. But there were those who had been around for a while, like you. Two years into this scene and there was no end in sight. You’d exchange knowing glances amongst those that stayed, between you and the drug dealer who never changed as you made an exchange for ecstasy, and sometimes the rotating bartenders. The beach house you were at this time looked to be someone’s winter home and your party was its squatter. The invitation came through the group text, none of which were saved to your phone because you had no need to know these people. You had smiled when you’d gotten it, smiled sweetly at your date across the table and said, “I’m sorry, this just isn’t working.” Watching his face contort into total shock as you stood from the table, grabbed your jacket, and winked before leaving the restaurant. Pulling a joint from the pocket on your dress, you held your hand in front to block the wind to light it, and took a long, burning drag. You didn’t need to look at your phone again, having memorized the address the moment you read it.

So, here you were, among the others who all showed up as soon as the sun kissed the horizon. A low, thrumming beat pulsed up from your feet, tingling in your fingertips, and left a numb feeling across your lips. You had smoked more once you arrived, wandered outside, and that’s where you currently found yourself. The sun still warmed, but the more it slipped, the cooler it got. At some point someone had turned on the outside heaters, but you barely noticed the people around you. The second time you decided to open your eyes is when you saw him. The sun glinted against the natural blonde highlights in his brown hair. His eyes were closed too as he danced to the music. His body moved like water and he moved so fluidly that he had you hypnotized instantly, swaying on the spot as your eyes kept up with his movements. He wore a loose white t-shirt, baggy pants, and expensive sneakers that moved just as smoothly as him. He moved as if he came out of the womb dancing. Your eyes slid shut as the…third? Fourth? Fifth? Hit overtook you. When you remembered him again, he was gone, and he slipped from your memory along with all your other thoughts.

The next text came through on the shittiest of Tuesdays. You were sitting at your desk when your phone vibrated across your desk. The address was given, a previous venue hosted by god knows who, and was one of your favorite spots. It was an old, abandoned telescope that was once part of the now defunct space program. That one president, back in 2020 when he had gotten re-elected, had pretty much ruined the world as you knew it. That’s why these parties existed, to forget and move on. So, here you were, standing in front of the door ready to flash your invitation to the masked bouncer. He nodded once at you and stood to the side to allow you in. The lights were off, but soft lights, inlaid into the floor, shined upwards, not even reaching more than six feet. Every now and again a strobe light would come on as the beat picked up tempo. That was when you saw him again and your memory was jogged. Under the strobe lights, he looked downright mechanical in his movements. Again, alone. Again, eyes closed and feeling the music. This time you wanted to watch. The bar wasn’t far from the dance floor and you wanted to appreciate him. When the strobe lights ceased its assault on your eyes, you saw him lit from below. It threw his features, half hidden under a cap, into sharp contrast. You watched as he spun, arms lifting towards the heavens, and saw that even his fingers were as elegant as the rest of him. That’s when Sam came by, of course his name wasn’t really Sam, but the local drug dealer needed something for people to call him. He sauntered up next to you, having seen you hundreds of times, half of his face hidden under a highly detailed fox mask.

“Anything for the lady tonight?”

“One sheet please,” you said waving your scanner bracelet over his.

“Open up,” he said.

You turned as he pulled a small, plastic container from his bag. Pulling a small sheet from it he reached out towards you. You opened your mouth, lifting your tongue, and let him drop the sheet there. Closing your mouth, you smiled at him as winked at you from behind the mask before walking away. Thirty minutes later and the strobe light was starting to look like a rainbow in your vision. Trails of multi-colored light followed the man as he danced, creating beautiful patterns in his wake. Your body seemed to melt into the floor as you watched him, but you wanted to touch those light trails. With some effort, you pushed off the bar, and trudged through what felt like jell-o. He shone brighter the closer you got, and the light was almost close enough to touch. Focused on the bright blues, reds, and greens in front of you, you reached out. A jolt of electricity coursed through you as he caught your wrist in his hand and pulled you forward. His hand caressed the back of your head, pulling you in closer so that he could lean into your ear.

“How long were you going to watch me until you decided to come over?” He leaned back as he ended the question. A pattern of suns moved across his black shirt, circling around, and coming back again in a celestial march. His eyes sparkled under his cap and you swore you saw stars there.

“Turn him into stars and form a constellation in his image.”

“And the first thing she ever says is a line from Shakespeare,” he chuckled.

“I can’t help it when you dance like that.”

His hand was still firm on the back of your head as he pulled your hips into his. You didn’t really have to dance. No one would question it; everyone was here for different reasons, but under the one unifying rule that everyone kept to themselves. The second you stepped into his personal space however, you were his. He had you dancing with him, nothing technical, but you still felt as if you were in a pool and he was pulling you through its depths. His sugared skin blurred into the soft glow behind him and he leaned forward again, placing his lips to your neck. The feeling struck like a meteor against your skin, warming the spot and spreading outwards in a shock wave. Peace flooded your system as he moved down your neck, kissing again.

“What’s your poison?” he asked as he ground his hips against you.

“I’m flying with the golden dragon,” you smiled.

“How are the lights?”

“Rainbow prisms and you have trails of it following you.”

“How poetic,” he smirked.

He placed a searing kiss against your lips, and it felt as if your skin had melted through his arms and onto the floor. You were still holding your breath when he pulled away.

“Breathe.”

The sigh you let out had him pulling you closer against him.

“Can I take you to a room?”

These venues always had rooms. Or, Rooms™. You had never heard anyone talk about rooms so reverently than when you were here. There were several of them scattered about depending on the location. All were equipped with brand new mattresses, linens, sometimes drugs, low lights, and fashioned to be soundproof. Everyone only went to a room for one reason.

“Yes.” You were still holding onto to him for dear life. He grasped you firmly around the waist and led you off the dance floor and into the dark halls of the building. Several rooms were fitted with two, small fuzzy lights of red and green. Occupied and unoccupied. He finally reached one with a green light and pushed the door inwards. It emanated a soft pink from within. A pink neon heart hung on the wall above the mattress. To the left was a shiny, low table laid out with more drugs and alcohol, ready to be scanned and taken. Speakers in the room played the music still pumping into the room of dancers. An old Grimes song poured through the speakers lazily. His lips were on yours as the locked slid shut in the door. He pushed your jacket from your shoulders, and you let it fall to the floor. Caressing that perfect jawline, you pulled him in closer to you as you pushed his cap off with your other hand. His soft brown hair came cascading out over his eyes as he leaned in to kiss you. They were the softest lips you had ever felt to date. His tongue was hot against yours, claiming your mouth as his own. He expertly undid your belt and pants, hooked his thumbs in both them and your panties, sliding them down and kneeling as he went. The light from the neon sign spread around the room in a blur, washing the palette absolutely in pink. Below you, his hair had turned a dark pink with lighter highlights. His tan skin had the lightest dusting of that rosy tone as he looked up at you with dark eyes. His fingers dragged down your hips leaving trails of pink honey, left to drip down your skin in jagged ribbons. His lips were on your hipbone now, tongue trailing along your skin. He placed a kiss above your clit and flicked his tongue on the hood. You moaned softly as you moved your hips against him. He gently moved your lips apart to lick at you more fully. You reached for his hair and you swore you saw glitter fall from those pink strands. The music changed then, from the slow melody to a fast paced track that had your heart racing. He pushed your hips against the wall behind you hard and you felt your breath leave your chest in a huff. He started to devour you as if you were the drug he had chosen for the night, forgetting about his woes as he buried himself in your cunt. You tugged at his roots as you doubled over. The stimulation had your thighs shaking and your knees buckling. His fingers dug into your hips as he forced you over the edge quickly. The room burst into light, glowing bright, and you closed your eyes against the burn. You felt as if you stood under a waterfall, drenched from head to toe in pleasure. Somehow, he had you from against the wall to your back on the soft mattress with minimal movement. The taste of you flooded your taste buds as he kissed you. The heat between the two of you was scorching. You tugged at his shirt until he pulled it over his head, revealing a well-toned body. The top you wore was cropped and what was the use of a bra tonight, so it was easy for him to just push the thin fabric up your chest. He wrapped his lips around your nipple as he ran his fingers down your stomach, leaving paths of light. Pushing two fingers inside of you, he sighed. You wrapped him in such warmth and wetness that he couldn’t wait to feel more of you. You reached between the two of you and worked his pants over his ass, enough to free him and have him in your hand. He moaned against you as you wrapped for fingers around his length, silk against silk, pre cum leaking at its tip, and becoming harder in your touch. Out of the corner of your eye you could see that the walls were rotating slowly around the room. The heart slipped into your vision before moving back out, creating a pink spotlight on the both of you wherever it went.

“What do you see?” he whispered against your chest.

“Walls are rotating.” You hissed as he sucked your nipple between his teeth.

“Fast or slow?” he asked as your nipple grazed his teeth when he pulled back. Your chest heaved forward, chasing him on its own will before you let out a breath and sunk back among the sheets.

“Slow.”

“Good.” You knew what he was doing. He was keeping your mood as calm as possible, having you focus on the pleasure and the absolute happiness coursing your veins. He knew exactly what he was working with.

Your hand fell from him as he sat up, but his fingers stayed firmly inside of you. He twisted them and hooked his fingers against your g-spot and pumped slowly. He managed to kick his pants off the rest of the way and sat up between your legs. Looking down, he was admiring what was laid out before him. Reaching out he grabbed your hand and pulled you to sitting. The walls rotated a little faster for a second before settling back into that steady rhythm. It was almost hypnotic, watching the neon heart travel the edge of the room.

“Look at me.”

Your eyes fixed on his and they shined just as bright as earlier. They were clear as night; small slivers of pink shown like tiny Milky Ways in their black depths. He looked at you as if the moon shown down on you and you alone. His fingers were out of you now, squeezing your thigh. He caressed your cheek sweetly as he brought your face to his. Your lips chased his as he moved back slowly, smiling as he went. His warm hand never left your cheek as he kept a breath’s distance away from you.

“What’s your name?” he whispered.

“_____.”

“_____.” He let your name roll off his tongue seductively and it fell out of his mouth like diamonds.

“Yours?” you were still fixated on his eyes; the pink Milky Way had grown brighter the closer it got.

“Hoseok.”

“Hoseoook.” You giggled lightly at the way it sounded coming from you.

His smile was bright, and he seemed to glow in the fuchsia monotony of the room.

“Turn around,” he said, his voice like caramel.

You did and started to get on your hands when he spoke.

“No, no, no. Sit up.”

You turned your head to look at him. He grabbed your hips and pulled you closer until you felt his cock nestled in your ass cheeks. More of the pink honey cascaded across your skin as he ran his hands across your chest. One of his hands was between your legs from behind, pushing you upwards. You felt him nudging at your entrance and, adjusting yourself, you sat down. He gasped as you sunk down, your body taking him in as if he always belonged there. He kissed along your shoulder as you moved your hips, his fingers pressed firmly into your skin.

The music was a low pulse with a synth playing a slow tune accompanied by some electronic drumbeats. The neon heart was just sliding into view again when you closed your eyes. Your movements felt slow, but everything felt so good. He kissed the back of your neck as he too started to move. You gasped when he thrust up into you, while barely letting you move with his firm grip on your hip. His name fell from your lips in soft moans and you heard him sigh in satisfaction. When you opened your eyes again you saw geometric patterns of random pulsing color decorate the still turning walls. Your body was strung like a bow, tense, and you refused to breathe. He brought you closer and closer with each thrust and your pussy felt as if it were getting hotter. When your orgasm hit, so did the full force of the hallucinogen. What you weren’t expecting was the explosion of neon animals that now rotated around the room, but they weren’t just any and all animals, there was a wide array of sea creatures swimming around you as if in an aquarium. A neon great white swam by followed closely by a sea turtle and a school of small fish.

“What do you see?” he was still thrusting into you steadily as he spoke.

“Neon octopus…and fish.”

“Do you feel good?”

Your eyes closed, letting the cool water you believed was there to wash over you.

“So good,” you whispered.

He moved you from his lap, rotating you lithely, and he was soon hovering over you. Behind his shoulder and across the ceiling swam a large neon whale, but you weren’t focused on it right now. Hoseok was above you, studying your face intently as he bit his bottom lip. He slid into you with you barely noticing his movements, so he didn’t miss the way your eyes widened before slipping shut, mouth open in ecstasy as he worked you open again. He was up on his hands so he could still watch you writhe beneath him and the expressions on your face.

He leaned down again after a moment, propped up on his elbow, and his lips were at your ear. “I want you to see the universe.”

He reached down, two fingers on your clit as he rotated his hips into you. Fresh tears welled up in your eyes and your body warmed from within. Your fingers dug into the sheets as he expertly worked his cock and fingers in tandem. A scream was trapped in your throat as you came, and your eyes opened as it peaked. You could see that he was still watching your face but behind him, the scene had changed. The room from the floor to about four feet was unchanged. The rest had turned into the night sky and what you would have described the Big Bang to look like. Explosions of color flashed before your eyes as stars formed and died out. Green, pink, and blue gases hovered around a small Milky Way. Comets passed by and so did passing constellations. You felt as if you were seeing a symphony personified, the music of the universe laid out before you.

When you came down and was able to focus somewhere else, you looked at him again. You no longer felt him inside of you. Reaching for his arm you looked at him alarm.

“What about you?” The stars twinkled behind him, moving slowly across the night sky.

He smiled. “What did you see?”

The way he looked at you made you think he could see the stars reflected in your eyes, content to view the night sky and still be able to look at you.

“So many stars.” Your eyes searched his as you spoke. “Everywhere. Stars.”

He smiled at you as you looked at what he could not see.

“You never told me your poison.”

He smirked coyly before speaking. “I didn’t take anything. I did this for you, and I wanted to remember.”

No one ever came to these parties sober. They all came here to forget, so what was he doing?

“What?”

“I’ve been coming to these parties for months. How you haven’t noticed me I don’t know.”

You wanted to know why you hadn’t seen him either.

“But why?”

“I’ve seen your misery. Those moments before the drugs hit, I see you. Then you move to music like it comes from inside of you. But when the parties were over you didn’t look nearly as satisfied with the night as the others did.”

He was right. The weight and misery of the world always weighed heavy somewhere. The increase in drugs never helped fully, but it did help you cope.

“I wanted you to feel something for once.”

Your heart thudded hard in your chest. You realized that the anxiety usually thrashing in the corner of your mind had been told to stay quiet. Suddenly, everything didn’t feel so bad. The stars still steadily floated by.

“Thank you for letting me see the universe.”

“Thank you for letting me see that these parties aren’t the only thing that can make me feel.”

Leaving as the sun came up, he stepped out of the building at your side. The bright yellow of morning was peaking over the mountains and you looked up at Hoseok beside you. He seemed at peace as he gazed over the sleeping valley below. No, the future was not fine as they had promised but there were still people in the world that made it feel that way.

#bts smut #bts au #ksmutclub #btswriterscollective #trigger warning: drug use #trigger warning: hallucinations #hoseok smut #hoseok x reader #reader insert #dystopian!au #hoseok

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