#why is jet's last name spelled two different ways. which one's the right one. help
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
Text
*buddy aurinko voice* found family? no, darling, this is a made family. I superglued these chucklefucks together kicking and screaming.
#the penumbra podcast#tpp#junoverse#buddy aurinko#the aurinko crime family#juno steel#peter nureyev#vespa ilkay#jet sikuliaq#jet siquliak#tpp rita#rita tpp#bs.txt#why is jet's last name spelled two different ways. which one's the right one. help#the ruby 7#yes I'm tagging all of them fuck off#carte blanche
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
A Dash of Truth
Summary: Reader is a witch but doesn’t want everyone to know, especially Spencer.
A/N: This is a fantasy AU which is a new concept for me. I hope you all like it. Thank you @the-queen-of-moons for helping me! Also the amazing graphic is by @spencers-beanbag ❤️
Pairing: Spencer Reid x Witch! Reader
Warnings: swearing, details of spell casting, mentions of a case, reader is a little rude at times
Word Count: 1.9K
Paperwork days were most of the time quite except when Derek Morgan had worked for the BAU, there was never a moment of silence. Today however there was a different sound filling the office.
“I swear on everything good and cuddly, if this headache doesn’t go away, I may get one of you badass agents just to shoot me.”
I looked up from my work to make eye contact with my curly haired coworker, Spencer, across our desks. Then a groan brought our attention to the blonde walking towards her ‘bat cave’ holding her head. I looked back towards Spencer who only shrugged and returned to his files. I glanced back towards the way Penelope had gone and hoped she felt better soon.
It wasn’t long till my hopes were crushed. “I swear if I could name this headache, it would be called Luke Alvez.” This exclamation of pain brought out a “Hey!” from Luke himself and giggles from everyone else. Penelope just winced at the loud sounds, finished making her coffee, and made her way back into her office. I contemplated offering her help and sharing my secret before deciding helping a friend was more important.
When I reached the entrance to the dark corner of the building I gave the door a light knock, not wanting to cause Penelope anymore pain. A faint permission to enter was the only sign of life I was given. The room wasn’t filled with the normal luminous light of computer screens. Instead, the human embodiment of sunshine was submerged in darkness.
“Penelope? I brought something that may help?” I kept my voice slightly above a whisper. The poor women turned on her desk lamp and turned to look at me. “Hi buttercup, what do you have for me?” I smiled at her attempt to still be cheery even though she wasn’t feeling quite so cheery herself.
I laid a crystal and a vial on her desk and explained, “This is a clear quartz crystal it helps in healing and pain relief. I also brought you some peppermint oil, apply a small amount to your temples and it should help sooth the headache as well.”
“Oh honey, you are a life saver. I will definitely give this a go! Thank you!” Penelope gave my hand a squeeze and I bent down to give her a gentle hug and a soft kiss to her head. “I hope it helps.”
When I returned to my desk, I found Spencer there leaning against it, waiting for me. I blushed a little when he gave me a smile. I couldn’t help the fact his presence made the butterflies in my stomach erupt.
“Where did you disappear to?” Spencer questioned as I took my seat. I looked towards the way I had just come, “I tried to help Penelope with her headache. I was getting worried.” I looked back at Spencer who was staring at me with a small smile playing on his lips, “Y/n you’re ama- a good friend.” I could feel my blush deepening as I mumbled a “thank you”. With a nod, Spencer returned to his desk.
It wasn’t but a few hours before Penelope was returning the crystal and oil I had given her. She leaned against my desk and asked, “So spill. How’d you know that stuff would work?”” I couldn’t help but to look away from her piercing eyes shyly before replying, “I- I practice modern witchcraft, nothing extreme just charms, crystals, oils, excreta.” I looked back at her before adding, “I don’t really advertise it so please don’t say anything.”
Penelope smiled at me and grabbed my hand and gave it a light squeeze, “Oh honey, I won’t say a word, but only on one condition.” I gave her a questioning look in which she responded, “You have to teach me your witchy ways.”
Over the course of a few weeks Penelope and I had spent countless hours together after work and between cases. It was mostly nights filled with small castings and gossip. Penelope was a fast learner, so it left plenty of time for the two of us to talk and catch up.
On one particular night we were in the middle of brewing a few healing oils when my phone rung. It was Spencer. Penelope may not be a profiler, but anyone would notice the way my whole body froze up and a smile grew across my face. Penelope giggle and nudged my shoulder reminding me I actually have to answer the phone.
The phone call didn’t last long it was just Spencer letting me know I had left my jacket at my desk and that he put it in his to go bag for safe keeping. Of course, this only excited Penelope and she unleashes a sea of questions: “He totally likes you. Do you like him? Are you going to tell him? You should totally tell him.”
My response to her was simply, “I could never tell him. It would ruin everything.” My best friend gave me a pointed look as she said, “You have to be honest with him, you never know what magic could unfold between the two of you.” I couldn’t help but snort at her choice of words.
The same night as the random phone call from Spencer, there was a Phone call from JJ. We had a case. This case took almost a week to solve, and it was particularly hard. Our prime suspect was good with his words and was constantly trying to lead us in the wrong direction. Lucky for us we have a genius who’s good at solving riddles.
On the way home a thought kept running through my mind: What if I made an oil and cast a truth spell over it. I finally decided I was going to do it and started writing down what I would need: 4 ounces of grape seed or jojoba oil and one ounce of sandalwood oil.
I was missing an ingredient and couldn’t think of what it could be. That’s when someone to my right cleared their throat and said, “One ounce of pure vanilla extract.” When I looked up to see who helped me, I was met with a small smile and a wink from Emily.
As soon as the jet landed, I rushed home only slowing down to tell Spencer goodnight. Luckily, he didn’t ask why I was in a hurry, which I am grateful for.
Once I was home it didn’t take long for me to gather all my ingredients and begin my spell. While swirling the blended oils and extract gently in a clockwise motion I chanted, “Truth be told, no more lies. Now it’s time for honesty. Telling the truth will set you free.” I carefully poured the oil into a bottle, concentrating on not getting any on my skin which would activate it.
The next morning everything seemed fine until I got to work. It wasn’t strange of me to greet my coworkers in the mornings. What was strange was the thing I said after my greetings.
When I walked in I saw Tara first and my greeting to her went something a little like, “Good morning. You look tired.” Tara only laughed and responded with, “Well thanks y/n so do you.”
I was lucky that Tara didn’t take offense, but I didn’t mean to say that. I rushed to Penelope’s office and was blessed to fine Emily there as well. My intensions where to say, “Hi guys. I have a problem.” And then explain but what actually came out was, “Why is it always so fucking dark in here.”
Penelope and Emily both just looked at me and then giggled. Emily however seemed to know why I was saying these out of character things, “Y/n I think you may have gotten some of that truth serum on you.”
My response was, “Well shit.”, while Penelope’s was, “What truth serum? Emily how do you know the witchy ways? Wait you told her and not me?”
I took Penelope’s gasp for breath as a chance to explain what happened. This took a little longer than necessary because every time I would talk about one thing what I really thought would pour out like word vomit. Especially when I started explaining the whole situation with the suspect and why I wanted to do the spell.
When I finally stopped talking the door opened right on cue and Matt stuck his head in to let us know it was five minutes till briefing. He looked a little confused when a panicked looked crossed my face and I said, “Do you not know how to knock.” I instantly apologized and looked to Emily and Penelope for help.
Emily nicely dismissed Matt and turned to me, “We need you on this case since Rossi took personal time. The spell will most likely take 24 hours to run through your system. Until then we’re going to have to come up with a good excuse on why you’re being mean.”
Penelope chuckled when I started to pout, “This isn’t fair. Stupid Rossi, stupid psychopaths.” Emily shook her hand as she led me to what was going to be the longest day of my life.
I had never been more right in my life. The whole time we were on the case every thought that ran through my mind escaped through my lips. I was never one to challenge anything about a profile or standup to local cops who were being pigs. Until now. The team never really got upset just more concerned and any time anyone asked if I was okay my response was always, “No I’m a fucking idiot and can’t do anything right.” And would walk away.
It wasn’t until we had made it back to the BAU that Spencer asked what was going on. “Y/n what has gotten into you? You’ve been acting out of character all day.” It was like Spencer talking to me was all it took for every thought I had about him and my situation to come spilling out.
I told him about the suspect and the spell, I even went into detail about my lessons with Penelope which led to me confessing my feelings because of course I had to say something about that damn phone call. When I realized everything, I had said to him I practically started sprinting away from him, ignoring his calls for to wait.
It wasn’t long after I had gotten home that my phone started to ring. Penelope’s name lit up across the screen and when I answered she instantly began to interrogate me. When I didn’t instantly tell her what happened or what I was thinking, I knew the spell had worn off.
I sighed into the phone the same time there was a knock on the door. I looked through the peep hole and was met with the sight of curly brown hair. All I said to Penelope was “I have to call you back” and hung up while she was still asking questions a mile a minute.
When I opened the door I was greeted with a small smile. Instead of a proper greeting I asked, “Spencer, what are you doing here?” Spencer took a step closer as he said, “I don’t need a truth spell to tell you I love you too, y/n.”
*
*
*
Permanent Taglist: @brooklynxnicole @the-queen-of-moons @imdefinitelyfloating @muffin-cup @theintimatewriter @averyhotchner @spenxerslut @spenciegoob @april-14-blog
#spencer reid#spencer reid fic#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid x y/n#spencer reid x you#spencer reid fluff#spencer reid fanfiction#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid au#fanfic#fanfiction#fluff#criminal minds
162 notes
·
View notes
Text
Never Enough (3/7)
Sirius Black x daughter!reader
Summary: Arriving at the Department of Mysteries did not turn out as Harry, Ron, Ginny, Hermione, Luna, Neville and Y/N Black had predicted. With Death Eaters trying to steal a prophecy, what happens when the Order arrives and everything begins to spiral down?
Words: ~1.9k
Warnings: shitty father-daughter relationship, violence, torture, injury,
A/N: Well this took a proper while to post. Watch the next part test your patience even more ;) but it’ll be worth it, I have great plans for it. Phrases I used a million times: you, dark, pain - I got tired of the words by the end of this fic. Every time I typed ‘orb’ I remembered @approved-by-dentists. ORBS. Anyways, I hope you enjoy this xx
Series Masterlist
⭑*•̩̩͙⊱••••✩••••̩̩͙⊰•*⭑
“Very good, Potter. Now turn around and give that to me, nice and slowly.”
Black figures emerged out of the shadows. Eyes were the only things to be seen from under the hoods, wands pointed at you all blocking the way to escape from every direction.
“Uncle Lucius?” you asked at the time as Harry, “Where’s Sirius?”
Lucius Malfoy looked at you, failing to hide the surprise on his face. He was expecting the rest of Potter’s friends to be there along with him, but not you.
“Where’s Sirius?” Harry asked again, the panic rising within him. “You’ve got him. I know he’s here.”
“It’s time you learnt the difference between dreams and reality. You saw what the Dark Lord wanted you to see,” Lucius said, looking away from you to concentrate back on what he came here for.
You were pointing your own wand at the figure nearest to you. You didn’t know what you were expecting when you came here, but it certainly was not this. You were panicking. Your clammy hands were shaking; you couldn’t take on Death Eaters, none of you could. Cold sweat dripped down your forehead, matting your hair against it. You tightened your grip on your wand as it started to slip.
“Not yet-” you heard Harry mutter.
A voice cackled in the dark, “You hear him? Giving instructions to the other children as though he thinks of fighting us!”
“Oh, you don’t know Potter as I do Bellatrix,” said Malfoy softly, “He has great weakness for heroics; the Dark Lord understands this.”
You felt Neville tense up next to you as Bellatrix Lestrange walked into the light, a malicious grin on her face. Her black, curly hair was wild and unkept - making her look deranged.
“You’ve got him, I know he’s here,” said Harry adamantly.
“Give me the prophecy, or we start using wands,” ordered Malfoy causing you to take a huge gulp.
“Go on then,” challenged Harry, raising his wand up to chest level; Ginny, Ron, Hermione, Neville and Luna doing the same.
“Do anything to us and I’ll break it.”
“He knows how to play! Itty, Bitty, Baby. Potter,” said Bellatrix, her cold, empty eyes staring through the slits in her hood.
“Hand over the prophecy and no one need get hurt,” said Lucius coolly.
You noticed the Death Eaters were slowly closing in, moving so slowly and quietly, behaving like shadows in the dark. It wasn’t noticeable unless one was really paying attention, which you were. You were wrenched out of the focus on one of the Death Eaters in front of you as Bellatrix Lestrange shouted, “YOU FILTHY HALF BLOOD!”
“Why did he want to steal a prophecy about me?”
You didn’t hear them reply for Neville nudged you on your side, “Smash shelves on mark,” he whispered discreetly.
“So he’s got you doing his dirty for him, has he?” continued Harry, “He tried to get Strurgis to steal it - and Bode?”
“Very good, Potter,” Malfoy said slowly, “But the Dark Lord knows-”
“NOW!” yelled Harry.
Seven voices chorused “REDUCTO!” The curse flew in seven directions, hitting the glass spheres on the towering shelves. Voices echoed through the vast room amidst the glass shattering and wood splinting onto the floor.
“RUN!” you heard Harry bellow before you took off with Ron, Ginny and Luna.
You covered your head protecting it from the falling orbs and spells flying by. Death Eaters were chasing after you, throwing spells and all they had into capturing any one of you.
“Petrificus Totalus!” you shouted, throwing a spell behind you without looking. It had successfully hit someone judging by the thud that followed.
“There! Through that door!” Ron yelled over the noise, pointing to a door right ahead of you.
You all picked up your pace. Luna ran through the door first followed by Ginny. You’d almost made it, ducking spells being thrown left and right, when you felt a spell collide with your back throwing you face first against the floor.
“Y/N!” you heard before blacking out.
⭑*•̩̩͙⊱••••✩••••̩̩͙⊰•*⭑
The first thing you felt was pain. Pain, pain, and more pain. Your head was throbbing, feeling like it was going to split open from the pain’s intensity. You slowly opened your eyes, having to blink a few times before they could focus on your surroundings. You groaned, sitting up, reaching a hand to the back of your head, hoping some pressure would relieve the stabbing ache. You glanced around and recognized the Brain Room you all had previously found when you’d been looking for the Glass Orb Room. You could see Ginny laying a bit away from you, knocked out. You could see Luna a distance away near a desk and what seemed to be Hermione, both unconscious as well. Ron was giggling like a barmy man, fighting what looked like a brain? You steadily stood up and took a step forward wobbling slightly. The pain in your head increased at the motion of walking, but you ignored it; Harry was nowhere to be seen and you’d just glimpsed Neville running through a doorway. You picked up your wand from the ground and made your way towards the shouts coming from the other room, trying to prepare yourself for what was waiting once you passed the threshold.
You saw one of the Death Eaters roughly grab Neville as you entered the room. There were several Death Eaters, you observed. Harry was standing on the dais, upon which was the stone archway, still holding the glass orb with Voldemort’s and his name on it. You stealthily started to make your way down the steps, hoping no one would look your way or hear you which sounded to be possible because of their obnoxious laughs and taunts.
“No, no, no,” said Bellatrix excitedly looking at Neville, “Let’s see how Longbottom lasts before he cracks like his parents… unless Potter wants to give us the prophecy.”
Your eyes widened at her suggestion, knowing exactly what she meant. You rushed down the stairs, the sound of your feet stomping against the stone stairs masked over by Neville roaring, “DON’D GIB ID DO DEM. DON’D GIB ID DO DEM, HARRY!”
Bellatrix approached Neville, raising her wand as you had reached the foot of the staircase continuing to run towards him. You jumped in the way at the precise moment.
“Crucio!”
All you felt was pain. Agonizing pain. The pain from your head before was nothing compared to what you were feeling now. Your body felt on fire from the inside-out. It felt as if you were being stabbed by scorching knives at every inch of your body. An ear-splitting scream left your throat. It hurt, it hurt so bad. You wanted it to end. You wanted it all to end; it was too much to endure. Your body twitched and thrashed around, bruising your already injured body further. You could hear Neville and Harry shouting for Bellatrix to stop as she laughed pleasurably. The pain seemed to last a lifetime before the spell was lifted off. You laid there on the cold stone floor, breathing heavily as you let out small whimpers. The pain and soreness still there as an aftermath of what had just occurred.
“That was just a taster my dear niece,” you made out Bellatrix speaking as you laid there, tears streaming down your face. “Now, Potter, either give us the prophecy, or watch both your little friends die the hard way!”
Suddenly, figures started to appear. ‘More Death Eaters,’ you thought frightened, willing yourself to move and stand up - get yourself and Neville away from the coming danger. You pushed through the pain, forcing yourself up. Your body was shaking underneath its own weight. A hand quickly wound itself around your waist, helping you stay upright. You looked to the side to see Neville.
“Are you okay?” Harry yelled over the chaos. You finally looked around surprised but relieved; the familiar faces of Dora, Moody, Kingsley, Remus and your father helping ease the pain a bit - help was here.
“Yes,” said Neville.
“And Ron?”
“I dink he’s all righd- he was still fighting de brain when I lefd-”
The floor between them exploded. You were thrown to one side of the room and thankfully this time, you didn’t injure yourself. You leaned against the tier and pushed yourself up. Somehow, miraculously, you still had your wand with you. You saw Dora duelling with Bellatrix, your father duelling a Death Eater as Kingsley fought off two. You limped your way to help Kingsley; you wouldn’t be able to do much against a skilled dueller, but little help was better than none. Just as you were about to reach Kingsley, you saw a jet of green light fly past in the corner of your eyes and Dora falling down from the stone stairs. Bellatrix had triumphantly moved on to duelling with another Order member as you stood frozen to the spot, coming to think the worst. You wanted to go check on her; anything other than stand there as your mind came up with the worst-case scenarios but it was as if you were paralyzed - unable to move or comprehend anything other than Dora’s limp body in the line of your vision.
The sound of Lupin shouting snapped you back to reality, “Harry, round up the others and go! Take Y/N with you!”
You spun around towards Harry’s direction who was already staring in your direction. He nudged his head towards the door you had entered from, indicating to get a move on. You nodded weakly, stumbling over your feet as you started to walk towards him and away from Dora’s body. All you could do was hope she was alright; knowing you had to get out of here or she would kill you when she found you’d acted stupidly and stayed in the middle of this chaos only to check up on her. It was extremely difficult for you not to run to her, she was your sister - but you knew you couldn't, not if you wanted to make it out alive of this situation to give her a piece of your mind yourself.
You were by the dais now upon which your father continued to duel Bellatrix. He was standing close to the stone archway, gradually inching towards it without noticing. He was laughing at Bellatrix, ducking her spells. You didn’t know when you had changed your course but suddenly realized you were standing only a mere few feet away from their duel.
“Come on, you can do better than that!” his voice echoed through the room.
You didn’t know when you had broken out into a sprint - where the rush of energy had come from, only Salazar knows. You didn’t know when you reached your father and pushed him. You didn’t see Dumbledore arriving, furious and ready to take some Death Eaters down. Nor did you see Remus and Harry running in your direction, terrified. You didn’t hear Bellatrix cry out in anger or your own yell, “DAD!”.
The only thing you did realize was the spell heading towards your father, one that could’ve been fatal.
The only thing you did hear was the yells of your father, godfather, and godbrother before everything went dark.
⭑*•̩̩͙⊱••••✩••••̩̩͙⊰•*⭑
General taglist: @heloisedaphnebrightmore @pregnant-piggy @approved-by-dentists @kashishwrites @remmyswritings @angelinathebook @idont-knowrn @coffee--writes @kinkyduuh @ickle-ronniekins @the-mighty-bookworm
Never Enough taglist: @evilluciferisevil @slyther-inn @bloodyxheaven @gcdric @mycobrakai1972 @loony-loopy-lupinn @mads-bri @tessaem @hannah220506 @hariosborn @kpopgirlbtssvt @xapham
Lmk if you want to be added to either taglist :)
#sirius black#sirius black imagine#sirius black imagines#sirius black x reader#sirius black x you#sirius x y/n#sirius#sirius black fic#sirius black fanfiction#black family#harry potter#harry potter imagine#harry potter fic#harry potter fanfiction#harry potter marauders#marauders#marauders fic#golden trio era#hp#hp imagine#hp fic#hp fanfic#harry potter imagines#hp imagines#bellatrix lestrange#lord voldemort#lucius malfoy#nymphadora tonks#remus lupin#mad eye moody
287 notes
·
View notes
Text
A Cold Chirstmas ~ MYG [Day Fifteen: Advent Calendar]
WORD COUNT: 3.8K
GENRE: Enemies to lovers, boss, CEO, AU, Moody boss,
PAIRING: Yoongi x Fem!Reader @taestannie your wonderful idea <3
Christmas eve was supposed to be about spending time with friends and family, getting ready for the next day when everyone would be so busy together they wouldn't have time to worry about anything except for if their turkey was burning or if they had enough stuffing and yet, here you were. Sitting at your office desk while you tried to make sure everything was ready in time for the boxing day issue of your paper that you worked on. The deadlines were looming and your boss seemed to get on your case more than usual but that wasn't anything out of the ordinary. Yoongi was always bad when it came to Christmas, he spent every year at work on Christmas day and forced everyone to work Christmas eve and then boxing day. This year, however, was different you were the one in charge of your team, you'd been promoted to the manager which meant you decided if your team got to go home or not which was why you were alone on Christmas eve night in the office. Not completely alone though, Scrooge was still in his office working on whatever it was he worked on. As CEO of the business, you had no idea why he insisted on even coming down every day to work when he could have been off jetting somewhere instead but he liked to work there. The business had been passed down through his family and he wanted to make sure he did a good job of looking after it as well as working for the company at the same time.
"Mr Min?" You knocked on the door softly, it was almost 7 pm which meant the last bus would be leaving soon and if you didn't get home on time you'd get in trouble. Yoongi looked up from the papers on his desk and frowned when he noticed no one was on his floor, it was the very top floor of the building which consisted of your team and his assistant who seemed to be gone as well. He was dressed in his usual work suit, his tie was slightly undone though which was the most you'd seen him relaxed in all your years of working there.
"Where is everyone?" He questioned his voice coming out cold and arrogant as he took the reports from your hand flicking through them to see if everything was okay, a frown appeared on his face as he read through everything.
"I sent them home, it's Christmas eve and most of them have-" You tried to speak but he cut you off, staring up at you as he heard what you'd said.
"You sent them home?" He had a smirk on his lips as he spoke to you, you already knew that you were in trouble but there wasn't more he could do to punish you so you just nodded.
"Yes Sir, they have families to get home to and it's Christmas-" Again he cut you off with his hand shutting the folder he was holding, carefully throwing it into the bin beside his desk as he held eye contact with you trying to intimidate you,
"The reports are wrong, misspelt, you're going to need to do them again." His arms folded over his chest as he sat there at his desk,
"I'll do them right away on Monday morning Sir-"
"No, you'll do them tomorrow. You're coming into work, think of it as punishment for sending your team home when none of you was done." Your mouth fell open as you stared at him he couldn't have been serious, he hadn't even noticed how shocked you were at him saying this to you. Yoongi had gone back to reading through the email from one of his friends who were off in some faraway country for the holidays, getting engaged and having fun.
"With all due respect sir, it's Christmas tomorrow and I have-" Giving you no time to talk about it, he cut you off again.
"Have to be in work is what you have to be Miss Y/l/n, goodnight. I'll see you tomorrow morning or you're fired," He hummed pointing to the door for you to leave back through it. Normally you were the cheerful one at work, bringing everyone - including Yoongi - a hot beverage in the morning. Leaving his on his desk so he would think his assistant had gotten it instead-but, in reality, his assistant didn't know how to work a vending machine never mind a coffee machine. Now you were just pissed off beyond compare, forcing you to come into work on Christmas day when you had much better things to be doing. It wasn't your fault that he had no one to spend the holidays with, every year he spent it alone and in his office but that was his choice. Why did he have to force you into joining you along with him?
He watched from his window as you stormed off into the elevator, he sighed looking down at the folder in the bin that he'd thrown away. Absolutely nothing was wrong with it, in fact, it surprised him how good the reports were considering you'd been the one to complete most of them and put others names on them. He could tell from the style of writing, you had a distinct one from everyone else, he knew yours well since he was the reason you'd been promoted to manager in the first place.
"Fuck," He groaned as he pushed his face into his hands, it was far too late to call you back and tell you not to come in so he was going to do the best he could to make up for it in the morning. Have you come in, do some work and then just send you home...He couldn't come across as a total pushover, he wouldn't risk you telling your friends about it.
The house smelt like fresh baked goods as you walked through the door, it almost made you feel like crying at the thought of not getting to spend Christmas Day with your family.
"Hi, mum, dad?" Your voice cracked as your little sister came bounding into the room holding up a Christmas card she'd spent most of the day making for you. Your mother came over to you first and was wearing a red Santa apron,
"Hi, what's wrong?" She knew how to read you like a book so she already knew something was going on by the way you had called her name out,
"Where's dad? I have to talk to you both..." Your father came from the bedroom carrying some presents he'd just finished wrapping for the next morning, it was a gaming console for your sister who'd been begging for it all year long.
"Sana, go to your room." Your sister frowned and began mumbling as she stormed off to her bedroom,
"I have to go to work tomorrow, Yoongi is being the scrooge he always is-" Your mother slapped you across the arm with an oven glove as you talked down about your boss that way but it was true.
"Mum! He's making me work Christmas day-"
"I'm sure he didn't mean it," You rolled your eyes, your mother seemed to always try to look on the brighter side of things always trying to find a reason for something happening but there was nothing here for that. He was doing it just to spite you for being so happy around the holidays when he couldn't be, but why did he have to ruin your Christmas?
"You should invite him round for Christmas dinner tomorrow, maybe he just needs some time with friends," You scoffed at the thought of you ever being friends with a man like Yoongi. He was rich and stuck up, liked to throw the fact that he had money and lots of it in front of everyone's face, you would rather spend Christmas alone than with him.
"You will be nice to that man young lady or so help me I will ground you," You rolled your eyes, you were an adult so she couldn't really ground you anymore but you knew she meant something by the threat so you agreed to be pleasant enough with him tomorrow.
The next morning Yoongi made sure he got there before you, he placed a mug of hot chocolate at your desk along with a bagel he'd made in the canteen before he went into his office to do something to look busy. He had plenty of deadlines to finish but you didn't, he left a small piece of paper on your desk with random things highlighted for you to do along with instructions for you to come and get him when you were done. He felt terrible for making you come into work on Christmas day, he liked you an awful lot but this was just his stupid brain turning you against him rather than making you closer to him. In a way, he knew it was some kind of way to make him feel less alone but it wasn't fair on you.
His eyes were trained on you as you walked into the office from the elevator, he smirked as he noticed what you were wearing. A pair of candy cane PJ bottoms along with a festive looking jumper, he didn't blame you though it had been snowing all morning so you were probably doing your best to stay warm which was why he was glad he'd left the drink for you on your desk along with some food. The way your heart flipped as you noticed the drink and food on your desk made you feel bad for calling Yoongi a scrooge, you turned to look at him but he was on the phone - faking a conversation but you didn't know that. You wanted to thank him for doing something nice for you but it was best to just sit down and get on with the work he'd left for you but when you opened the folder there was hardly anything there. Just a couple of tasks for you to do on the report and a small note telling you to see him when it was done. There was still hope for you to get home before your younger sister even woke up that morning which filled you with joy at the thought of getting to see her open her gifts. Last night there had been a debate about making her wait until you got home but you would feel bad for making her wait when she'd been looking forward to this for months.
"Sir? I-I'm done," The stuttered made Yoongi look up from his computer screen, he was in an email exchange with his best friend Hoseok who'd just proposed to his girlfriend on a beach in Hawaii.
"Thanks, Miss Y/l/n," You watched as he began to read through what you had written that day, you'd made sure to make it perfect without spelling mistakes so that you could go home.
"It took you two hours...You sure it's done?" You nodded at him about to go into a long discussion about how it was perfect and you'd made sure of it but he shut the folder and stood up.
"I'll drive you home, I'm assuming someone drove you done here in this?" Shock riddled through you as he collected his jacket from the back of his chair. It was now you were realising he wasn't dressed in a suit, he was in a pair of jeans along with a white t-shirt and a leather jacket.
"My father sir, I can call-"
"Nonsense, you should let him be with your family I'll drive you." You weren't in a place to argue as you began walking past your desk, he looked at the empty plate and mug and smiled to himself happy that you'd enjoyed the food.
"Was the food okay?" He pushed the elevator button and looked down into your eyes, you looked back up at him and smiled. You'd never looked into his eyes before but you were just noticing how pretty they were, like tapioca pearls and the way he was smiling at you sent shivers down your spine.
"It was perfect sir, where did you get it? I thought most businesses were shut for the holidays." He chuckled letting you get into the elevator first,
"They were, I went into the canteen this morning to make it for us. I thought it would be a nice gesture...All things considered." You thanked him and watched as he pushed his key into the garage floor, it was a locked department for everyone who held expensive cars.
The elevator was creaking as you went down together in silence, you tried to think of something to talk about but your mind was blank as all you could think about was how nice he was being all of a sudden. It was a complete mood change from the usual scrooge he was being,
"Sir I have-" The elevator shook as it stopped in place, the lights flickering off until the backup light came on and left you alone in silence once again.
"W-What just happened?" You stuttered out watching as Yoongi touched the emergency call button but no one answered,
"They must be home for the holidays, here," Yoongi handed you his jacket and he began trying to pry the giant metal doors apart but you were stuck between two floors and neither of you would be able to squeeze through the tiny gaps he was able to make.
"I'll call someone," You offered, turning to take your phone from your bag when you realised you'd left it on your desk upstairs. Yoongi could already tell from the look on your face it wasn't good news,
"Here," He took out his phone and began dialling for help,
"Hi, yes this is Mr Min Yoongi of Yoongi limited, I'm currently stuck in my elevator could you--Yes I realise that it's Christmas day but I'm stuck in here and would appreciate it if someone could come and rescue us." He began rubbing the bridge of his nose as he looked at you, you were filling with worry as he continued speaking to the person on the phone.
"Thank you, t-thank you again!" He hung up and sighed,
"They can't get here for another hour...The lady on the phone said it's because of the snow that the elevator stopped and it's going to get cold in here. So here," He took the jacket from your hands and wrapped it over your shoulders,
"An hour? In here?" He nodded sitting down on the floor, you sank down in front of him and he stared at you wondering if there was anything he could say or do in this situation to make any of this better but there was nothing he could do.
The longer he spent staring at you the more he realised how cold you both were, his teeth were chattering and you instantly felt bad for taking his jacket so you slipped it off and gave it to him.
"Y-You're cold too," He frowned handing it back to you but you surprised him by moving closer to him on his side of the elevator and snuggling into him,
"I-It's cold sir, I'm just t-trying to stay warm," He relaxed a little and wrapped his arm around your body trying to keep you as warm as he possibly could since he felt this was his fault,
"I'm sorry I ruined your Christmas..." He started off, looking down at you. Your eyes were closed as your body shivered, trying to keep itself warm but you shook your head, looking up at him.
"Y-You didn't ruin Christmas," He scoffed as you tried to be nice to him when he was the reason you were currently freezing to death in an elevator at home.
"You could be at home in front of a warm fire, with family, sharing stories isn't that what people do on Christmas day?" You laughed at his remark and shook your head,
"If you're from a hallmark movie, normally Christmas day is spent arguing over who has to do the dishes or clean the table in my family." You laughed at the thought of it and then Yoongi noticed as you mind went somewhere else,
"What?" He questioned, your body seemed to stop shivering as you thought about something other than the coldness in the elevator.
"Christmas is about watching my sister open her presents and scream at me when I got her something she wanted but only told her diary which she hides under my mattress," He chuckled as you began to share things with him he could only dream of having on Christmas day. His family had never been like that, his mother was always off in some country and his father with another woman leaving him at home with the staff of the house.
"What are-" You were going to question what his Christmasses were like until you remembered that in the five years of knowing him he'd spent every single one of them at work,
"There were some good times with me, I wasn't always like a scrooge." Your eyes widened and he laughed at the expression on your face he'd heard you and your co-workers say it a lot over the years but he never said anything.
"You're right, I am a scrooge and I am sorry." You shook your head at him apologising for everything you'd said to him that he could have heard,
"If you don't mind me asking-"
"Why do I work every Christmas?" You nodded waiting for an answer when the elevator creaked, you moved closer to Yoongi and he chuckled holding onto you tightly at your reaction. The feeling of his skin on yours made you warm up and you looked at him,
"I had a wife, I came home one Christmas and she was with someone else...I just sort of swore from that day that Christmas wasn't for me, that and I spent a lot of my childhood ones alone." You frowned at the thought of him being alone a lot on Christmas and the thought of what your mother had said came back to you about inviting him around for Christmas dinner.
"Is anyone in there?!" A voice called through the speaker system,
"Yes! Hi! We're in here," Yoongi called out tearing his eyes away from you so he could push the speak button,
"Hold on tight, we'll have you out soon enough!" A voice called out again, Yoongi looked back at you and you were looking away from him as you stood up from the floor.
"He said to hold on tight, probably best to stay seated." The truth was he didn't want to stop holding you, he'd hoped he could stay there a little longer with you. To hold you, keep you warm and get to know you more even though he already knew everything after working with you for years.
"Thank you for the ride Yoongi," You whispered as you sat in front of your house, your mother was watching from the window but you couldn't see her.
"What are you doing? For Christmas I mean, like what are you-"
"I'm planning on going to my apartment and heating up some leftovers," Your hand fell onto his on the gear stick as you began to shake your head.
"No way, you can't just go home and not have a real Christmas dinner. This is me inviting you to dinner as a way of saying sorry for calling you scrooge all the time," You had no idea where the wave of wanting him to stay for Christmas was coming from but you couldn't stand the thought of him going home alone so you weren't going to allow it.
"Y/n, what about your family?"
"They would love to feed an extra mouth trust me, and my mother has seen you and let me tell you I might have to fight to keep her away from you-" You slapped your hand over your mouth as you told him that and he started chuckling at you,
"Well, in that case, I might need to go inside and meet your mother, watching you fight for me could be interesting," He worded it that way to see your reaction and he smirked as he watched you begin to fidget with your fingers, something you'd done a lot of whenever he was close to you at the office or when you were trapped in the elevator,
"I said fight to keep her away-"
"I know Y/n," He was closer to you now, leaning across the centre console of the car to be closer to you, his head tilting to the side as he looked into your eyes while licking his lips. You swallowed the lump in your throat as you stared at him, leaning closer as your eyes danced between his lips and his eyes.
"Would it be totally inappropriate for me to kiss you?" He questioned as he reached his hand out to cup your face, running his fingers over your soft skin as you shook your head.
"I-I want you to kiss me," That wasn't what he'd asked you but you leant forward connecting your lips softly. Your mother smirked from the window as she moved away ready to greet Yoongi when you eventually brought him into the house, it had been a long time since you'd dated anyone.
"What are you smirking about?" Your father questioned when he watched your mother go to the kitchem,
"She'll be bringing someone to dinner with her. Go and wake Sana," Your father frowned following orders.
"Y-Yoongi," You moaned as his lips began to kiss down your neck, you wanted nothing more than to mount him in the front seat but the cruel reality that you were sitting in front of your house came crawling back to you when you saw the curtain shift at the window.
"I know, I'm sorry it was stupid I shouldn't have-" You kissed him again while grabbing onto his shirt to shut him up,
"It hot, I want to but not...Not here, not yet." You whispered as you looked at him, he chuckled and nodded his head.
"You should go to dinner-"
"We...I'm not letting you have leftovers for dinner." You leant across the centre console and took the keys from his ignition,
"If you want to get home tonight you have to come in and eat something with us," He nodded his head at you following your lead as you got out of the car and began to walk up to your family house, barely placing your hand on the door when it sprung open and Yoongi was greeted by your family.
Tagline: @lyoongx @mitzwinchester @callingmyangel @fan-ati--c @rjsmochii @kneel-begyourpardon @taestannie @innersooya @sw33tnight @sweeneyblue1 @missmxqn @bisexualmess007 @oosnapitskat
#bts#bts x reader#bts x y/n#bts x you#bts imagine#bts imagines#seokjin#kim seokjin#jin#min yoongi#min yoongi x reader#min yoongi imagine#min yoongi imagines#yoongi#yoongi x reader#yoongi imagine#yoongi imagines#suga#jung hoseok#hoseok#kim namjoon#namjoon#park jimin#jimin#kim taehyung#taehyung#jeon jungkook#jungkook
144 notes
·
View notes
Note
Hi!! Could you please write something for Sirius where he's with the reader but they get in a fight and ignore each other because he said some mean things to her but one night the reader has a horrible nightmare and goes to Sirius in the middle of the night to check up on him and stays there? And like he wakes up and he's like Uhh what's happened? And they make up and he makes her feel better? Thank you so much!!
Title: Apologies
Pairing: Sirius x reader
A/N: I really hope I did this justice! It was so much fun to write, thank you for requesting!!
Wordcount: 1.9k
Warnings: there’s a curse or two in there, I didn’t proof read so probably grammatical errors (sorry)
Requests are still open!
To most people in Hogwarts, it seemed like a normal day. The sun was still shining through the early autumn sky, and many students were out in the grounds to soak up the rest of the sunshine before it disappeared in time for winter. In the sixth year boys Gryffindor dorm room, however, a heated argument had broken out.
“Absolutely not, (y/n)! Do you know how dangerous it is? How much can go wrong?! No, you’re not doing this!” Sirius shouted at her, both of you standing at other ends of the dorm, shoulders square and postures tense, throwing angry words at each other whenever you got the chance.
“And why not, Sirius?” She shot back, acid laced through her voice. Three boys sat spectating, all sitting together on one of the beds, interjecting every so often to try and calm things down but quickly withdrawing once they were being shouted at, too. “Remus is my best friend, he has been for much longer than I even knew who you were. He’s happy for me to try and become an Animagus, so why aren’t you?” She screamed, pushing back the feeling of tears prickling at her eyes. Angry crying was such an inconvenience.
“Do you know how dangerous it is?” He countered, folding his arms across his chest and lowering his voice, trying to seem calmer and inject some form of logic into his argument.
“Of course I know the risks, I’m not an idiot.” She snapped back, not bothering to give him the same courtesy in lowering her voice too. No, he would feel her wrath. “But the risks are worth it, to help my best friend. Which, if I’m remembering right, is the same conclusion you came to.”
“Do you know how difficult it is?” At this attempt to dissuade you, you scoffed.
“Well you three idiots seemed to manage just fine.” You quipped back, seeing James shrug in agreement as he looked at Sirius. “And surely having your help is only going to make it easier for me to do it right!”
“Sirius, she’s not entirely wrong.” Remus stood up, beginning to reason, holding his hands up in a surrendering position when Sirius turned a piercing glare towards him. “Hear me out. When you’re stuck on something in class, (y/n) is the first person any of us will turn to, because she’ll know the answer. She’s smart, Sirius, she’s brilliantly smart. She can do this.”
“This isn’t a piece of homework we need help with, Moony!” His voice had risen again, anger exploding from him now, sending a shockwave throughout the dorm. “This is so much more than class smarts, this is extremely difficult magic, even full wizards who have trained for years struggle with this, you know that! This isn’t some silly little charm that can help us pack a suitcase quickly!” The silence which rang through the room was deafening. His eyes moved to meet hers, glassy with tears, broken, but stone cold.
“That’s it?” She whispered, not able to bring her voice any louder as the revelation hit her. “You don’t think I’m intelligent enough?” She shook her head as he tried to reach out to her, to correct what he’d said, to try and steer the conversation in a different direction. “No. You said it, and you can’t take it back. I might not be intelligent enough for this, but I am smart enough to know when I’m being treated like shit, and I’m not going to put up with that.” She shouldered her way past him, ignoring his shouts after her. She paused at the doorway, turning back to meet his eyes one last time. “When you’ve realised what a dick you’re being, you know where to find me.” And with that, you turned and walked back towards your dorm, your heart heavy with the crushing weight that he didn’t think you were good enough.
“(y/n)!”
…
After a night spent in your dorm with Remus, who brought more than his fair share of chocolate, her anger had just dissipated into a stubborn resolve to not speak to Sirius until he had apologised. It had been four days already, and she’d managed to find new seats in every class, managed to avoid his glances when she would walk into the common room. Meal times had become extremely irregular, in an attempt to avoid seeing him, which so far had been successful. But it was wearing down on her, which was why Remus had called for a night spent in her dorms, talking about nothing in particular but just having her best friend there to comfort her and stuff her face in chocolate.
It had been hours, though, and her eyes began to fall closed, the weight of the last few days taking its toll. With one last hug and a gentle kiss to her forehead, he left the dorm to go back to his own, passing the girls walking into their dorm as he left. She looked after him guiltily, even though he assured her that it was Sirius’ fault and not hers, she knew that the relationship between Sirius and the rest of the Marauders had been tense, they wouldn’t dare say it but they all thought he was in the wrong.
Nevertheless, sleep won the battle of her emotions, and she climbed into her covers, pulling them tight over her as she slowly drifted off into a her own dreamworld.
She was running through streets, trying to avoid someone, trying to escape from them. Her breath was coming in harder, sharper, as she pushed herself, not knowing where she was going, but having a strong indication of who she was running from. Her hand hurt from how tightly she was gripping her wand, she could feel the sweat building up as she kept going, becoming more and more desperate.
She stopped running when she reached a square, although where she was she wasn’t really sure. She took in the five figures before her, James next to Lily with her fiery hair standing out against the bleakness around them, Sirius in between Remus and Peter. Immediately she joined their circle, back to back and turned to see what they were fighting against. Hooded figures began to appear all around them, and spells flew in every direction, from every wand, including hers although she didn’t know what she was casting.
They seemed to be gaining the upper hand, the hooded figures were falling or fleeing, until a bright jet of green light caught her attention, and she watched it hit her boyfriend squarely in the chest, and watched him fall backwards as it took effect.
She jolted upright, sweat pouring off her body as her heart pounded in her chest, sure it was about to break free with the force of it. Trying to calm her breathing, trying to process the dream she had just had, the tears began to slide down her cheeks as the image of her worst nightmare, of her boyfriend floated in front of her. Even though she knew it was a dream, and he was sleeping soundly in his dorm not too far away, fear constricted in her chest, not letting her breath, and she swung her legs off the side of her bed, pulling a jumper over her head as she silently padded out of the dorm, feet pulling her before her brain could really process where she was going.
She pushed the door open slightly, and was happy to see the boys all sound asleep, moonlight casted over their snoring faces. She crept in, pushing the door closed behind her, and walked to Sirius’ bed, where his hair was splayed out across the pillow and he was curled up tightly, one arm extended into the empty space in his bed. The space where she would normally be sleeping next to him.
Unable to help herself, glad to see that he was sleeping peacefully, she reached out a hand a cupped his cheek, leaning over to press a small kiss to his forehead, a secret sign to him that even though they were fighting, her love was still there. He stirred slightly, not opening his eyes but turning his arm so it was palm up.
“C’mere.” He muttered, barely audible. She hesitated, not sure if she wanted to share a bed with him after everything that had happened in the last week, but the thought of going back to her own bed and enduring another nightmare had her quickly climbing under the sheets, pulling them up around her as Sirius’ arms naturally encircled her, pulling her into his chest as he made fast work of falling back asleep. Finally feeling that you could rest, you too fell back asleep.
…
“(y/n)?” She was awoken by the gentle sound of her name being uttered in confusion. Memories of the night before flooded back to her, and she felt her cheeks tinge pink as she would have to explain why Sirius had woken up with an extra person in his bed. She reluctantly opened her (y/e/c) eyes to meet his stormy grey ones, still clouded by sleep and, to her relief, free from any anger or seemingly negative emotion.
“Morning.” She offered meekly, a shy smile playing on her lips as she refused to meet his gaze, staring intently at his shoulder instead. “I’m sorry,” she started, beginning to explain the confusing circumstances. “I had a nightmare and I had to see you, and I didn’t want to be alone again and you told me to get in so I did-“ her rambling was cut off as he pressed a soft kiss to her forehead, a silent reassurance that it was okay, and he was glad she was with him.
“I’m sorry too.” He apologised as she finally looked up at him again and saw his guilt written all over his face. “I know you’re smart enough, of course you are, I just couldn’t think about what might happen if it went wrong. With the boys, I guess we didn’t think enough, we were all doing it together and we were just so sure it would work. We were lucky it did, but now I have hindsight and I just panicked when I thought of losing you. But you were all right, having me by your side is only going to decrease the chances of it going wrong, and I have to accept that you can make this choice for yourself.” They smiled at each other, grateful that the seemingly endless period of coldness between them had gone away.
He dipped his head lower, meeting her lips in a soft kiss, one filled with apology and forgiveness, and relief to be back in each others arms. Eventually, she felt the need to breathe and she pulled away, pressing her lips gently to his collarbone as she could feel his breath on her hair. “Can I taste Moony’s chocolate?” He laughed as he licked his lips.
#sirius black#harry potter#harry potter fic#y/n#sirius x y/n#sirius x reader#sirius black x reader#young sirius black#remus lupin#padfoot#young marauders#marauders
538 notes
·
View notes
Text
A matter of Time
A/n: hey guys long time no see! I made this in many different verisons but here it is. Hope you enjoy! Feed back is appreciated
Warnings: none really probably bad statistics and mixed povs’ and bad spelling.😂 sorry if this sucks.
Summary: being new to the BAU and being elle’s sister and clicking with a certain doctor.
You were with your sister on your way to your first day of work. Joining that bau was one of the things you always wanted to do once you got all your doctorates, the academy was happy with your scores, but physical was one of the ones that needed the most. You were smart but you also had to have the physical movements in as well and being able to shoot and handle psychopaths. Your counselor though gave you a well written letter and plus your boss’s sister allowed you to work with them as long as you were able to pass your qualifications test, your sister also happen to know someone in particular who didn't pass his qualifications as well and thought you two would instantly click.
As you walked into the office eyes were all over you and elle. “Well well well, look at his lady,” Morgan said as Elle stopped him. “Don't even think about it morgan.” she said as his eyebrows rose. “What I just wanna say hi.” he said as she moved over and walked over to her desk. “You must be morgan?” you said as he nodded. “Yes I am and you must be?” he asked, waiting for you to say your name. “y/n, y/n greenaway.” you said as morgan looked at you and back at elle. “wait your elle’s sister?” he said as you nodded. “Yeah I am.” you said as your eyes wandered. “Wait, you're working here? You're the new member?” he asked as you nodded. “So you specialize in..?” he asked as you answered quickly. “In sexual offense crimes, like elle, and i have doctorates in mathematics, chemistry-” you said as he finished your sentence, “engineering, and you specialize in statistics and geographical profiling...am i right?” he said as you nodded “yeah, how did you know that?” you asked as he chuckled. “Because we have an agent here who does the same things you do, but he's a guy.” he said. “How many words can you read in a minute?” he asked as your sister butted in. “Trust me, you don't want to know that.” she jokingly said as a pen came up to you. You knew each other, she would come over to your house and you would hang out. “y/n! Hey, hotch is in his office waitting for you.” she said as you hugged and you nodded walking over to hotch’s office.
“Hey hotch.” you said as he grinned at you. When he saw your name in the files he knew you would be a good mix into this team, even though it meant they would be having two Spencers but he was happy to have all the help they could get. Two of Spencer would mean getting things done a lot faster, even though it got done faster than normal.
Elle and hotch both knew you and Spencer would work well together; it was only a matter of minutes till you met. As you sat in your desk you were welcomed by the many agents that worked there. As you placed the little things you brought from home you were looking at some old cases Elle worked on. You would do this when she was away. Even though you weren't a part of the team, there were many times you would call elle and tell her about something that would pop in your head. Even though you didn't work there legally, but it made Elle look like a rockstar. You saw jj heading towards you guys and you were ready for your first case, but you knew you were gonna have to take baby steps since you were new. You all walked over to the conference room and sat there to debrief. Hotch, Prentiss, Rossi and Spencer were already there. You didn't know who the other two people were, you knew most of the team name but then again you were new, and as if elle read your mind she came close to your ear.
“Younger guy is spencer...or i mean dr. spencer reid. And the lady there is Emily prentiss.” she said as you nodded. So thats who Morgan was talking about earlier. He was young like you which meant that you two were different versions of one another.
Jj walked up to the board and started talking about a case. A guy was murdering women in the middle of the streets with no trace of evidence besides notes that were given to the local police department. “All the women look alike, could be personal, but not in the way he knows them. More like whoever looks like these women did something to him that made him rage into killing because to him they were the same woman. And since the women were in their mid 30’s could be an ex wife, or exgirlfriend.” you said as everyone looked at you, spencer looked at your first; he found you astonishing “Sorry.” you said as the hotch shook his head. “It's fine, good point actually,” he said as you nodded. Going back to Spencer, he didn't even know you were there. He was very surprised with how fast you read through the file. Giving him a hint you were able to read lots of words per minute..just like him.
“But what exactly did this woman do, to get him into a rage of slitting other women’s throats?” Morgan asked as Spencer spoke up. “Most likely a divorce or rejecting marriage.” he said as you looked more into the file. “Could be either one, the percentage of first marriages that end in divorce is 50% , and depending on what ring it is when proposing the rejection is much higher.” you said as you got those facts from the top of your head.
“Okay, let's talk more on the plane, Texas is a long flight, see you all in 30.” hotch said as you all got up and you headed to your desk getting your go-bag and your files. You also brought your books to read on the jet. As you were all on your way to the jet you were walking behind everyone and Spencer thought it could be a good moment to greet on another.
“Hey, im..uh dr. Spencer reid. Or spencer you don't have to call me dr.” he said as you looked over to him and smiled. “Hi, im y/n greenaway. I’m dr. As well.” you said as his eyebrows rose. You didn’t know if it was the dr or your last name that shocked him, It didn't surprise you when people made that face here in the bureau. Your sister was a legend and so was your father.
“Your elle’s sister right?” he asked as elle walked over. “Yes she is so you better not mess with her.” she said as you laughed and she sat down with morgan and you looked around on where to sit, spencer was doing the same. “Do you uh, want to sit together? I mean you don't have to but, we could get to uh, know each other.” he said as you nodded, you were happy that you were getting along with someone who's like you that thought the same things. Being you was hard to make friends. You two talked about many things that you were interested in. He told a little about himself and you did as well.
As you landed you and Spencer were told to look through some files that could get you started on your geographical profile. You two were sitting there just looking through and drinking your coffee, JJ, Prentiss and Rossi were talking to the chief and came over to you guys.
“These are Dr's Spencer Reid and y/n greenaway. They are helping us with the geographical profile. One of the best we know.” JJ said as I smiled and me and Spencer were still looking through. “How old are you guys? Seems too young to be doctors'' he said as Spencer and I looked at one another. On the jet spencer told you this type of situation would happen almost every time.
“Well we're not those types of doctors, we don't have a medical background, it's more psychological and behavioral,'' Spencer said as the chief was slightly still confused and you noticed so you explained more. “We look at why this man is here to target these women, what makes them want to target the women here. It could be that he has a family of some sort here and he can't really go anywhere, so that tells us he blends in. meaning people talk to him on a daily basis, but they don't notice anything strange because he blends in.” you said as the chief nodded understanding more and talking to rossi.
“Where did you find these guys?” he asked as Rossi just chuckled. “Well it's interesting how, but between you and me they were left at the doorsteps of the fbi. These guys are the best to find your guy.” he said as he nodded leaving him satisfied.
As you two were looking even more closer Spencer brought up the thought you made to the chief. “I think you're right about the unsub blending in, how else could he hide his cover? He has to live here, maybe he lost custody of his kids and that could be a possible stressor” he said as you nodded.
“Should i call garcia and let her do her magic?” you asked as he nodded and you called her going to get some coffee. “How do you like your coffee?” you asked as he looked up. “Just make sure it has enough sugar.” he said as you nodded, calling garcia.
“Hello my wonderful daughter, how may i lead you into the world?” she said as you laughed.
“Hello mother, i was wondering if you could search for men in their mid 30-40’s who recently went through some sort of rejections, divorce, lost a custody battle, and possibly losing their job. Someone who blends in, could be a person who helps a lot here.” you said as she did her typing. “Okay with the information you gave it should give me short list, but i cannot promise anything. Mother goose will call you soon.” she said as you giggled. As you walked back with the coffee and handed it to spencer as he looked up and smiled as a thank you. “So garcia is doing her magic, so she should call us any minute.” you said as he nodded and took a sip of his coffee. He just sat there in shock, you got the perfect amount. You were probably one of the fewer people who did get is order right. Even though it was just coffee and sugar. You noticed his shock as he kept drinking his coffee. “What? Does it taste bad?” you asked as he shook his head. “No, it's quite the opposite actually. It tastes perfect. How'd you know it was the right amount.” he said as you giggled. “Lets just say it was an educated guess.” you said as he chuckled looking back and waiting for your team. His brain was going crazy. You were perfect to him. You’re smart, outgoing, and the one that understood him the most even though you just met. He sat there with a smile as those thoughts ran through his head.
When the team arrived they were ready to give everyone the profile you and Spencer made while they mixed it in with theirs. Just then everyone in the room was getting a call that the man had killed again. Hotch answered and everyone headed out, besides a couple of the members.
As you sat there not being able to do anything garcia called you. You thanked the lords and hoped she found something. “Hey gracia you got something for me?” you said as the clicks on her keyboard were continuing. “As a matter of fact I do. This guy Marcus Gray, recently lost a custody battle to his wife, that looks exactly like the victims, and he recently lost his job, but he got another one and i was told by his schedule that he has not clocked in for over two hours, but then before i called you it shows that he just went into work 10 minutes after the last kill.” she said as your eyes widened. “Do you have addressed to both his house and his job?” you asked as she smirked. “Baby, I already sent them to you.” she said as you sighed. “Thank you mom.” you said as she giggled as you hung up.
“Okay we need hotch and everyone else on here.” you said as rossi made the call. “So lovely garcia found a guy who meets the profile, Marcus gray, who just lost a custody battle and was filed for divorce with his wife that looks like the victims and is considered to be very helpful and local. We have the addresses to his work and home.” you said as everyone was quite surprised at your work.
“Okay good, me, prentiss,elle and morgan, will go to his work, you spencer, and rossi, go to his house. Nice job y/n.” he said as you nodded getting ready.
You were all set up besides not having a gun but you saw you weren't the only one.
“You don't have a gun?” you asked Spencer as he scoffed. “Yeah i don't, i haven't really passed my qualifications test. You neither huh?” he said as you nodded. “Yeah I'm not so good physically,” you said as Rossi spoke up. “Maybe you two could study for it.” he said as you two scoffed. “I don't need to study i've got it, i just can't get my shots right.” you said as Spencer nodded. “Same here, considering i have a doctorate in math, i don't know my angles very well.” he said as you laughed. “Wait, that was a joke?” Rossi asked as you playfully rolled your eyes. “Oh rossi, you need to learn.” you said as you arrived at the unsubs house and checked the inside of it.
No one was home as suspected, as you looked around you saw many pictures of his kids but none of the exwife. You looked around his bedroom and looked through the drawers, one was locked but you got into the lock with a bobby pin. “Did you learn that in the academy?” spencer asked as you scoffed. “No i learned it from elle.” You said as he scrunched his nose, thinking of how elle could’ve possibly taught you that. And as you could read his mind you answered his question. “It’s a long story.” you said as he nodded with a smile. As you looked through the drawer, you saw many pictures of the wife marked up with many words.
“Rossi! Pictures of the wife are in here.” you said as he came into the room and looked though. “And well well well, a lovely picture of her and her girlfriend.” you chimed as held the picture.
“So he’s mad at his exwife for being gay? So religious reason, but also because of the custody battle.'' Spencer said as you nodded. “It has to be. Are the rest of the team at the work address?” you asked as Rossi nodded. “Yes they have him trapped, but he has a lady with him and a weapon.” he said as you nodded “how far away is it from here?” you asked as he checked his phone. “5 minutes away. Why?” he asked as you had a plan. “Get a team to look around in here and take me to where the guy is.” you said as rossi made the call and you were on your way over. “What's your plan?” spencer asked.
“Well i'm gonna try to get the guy to let her go.” you said as you got there and you saw he had his ex wife's girlfriend. Hotch saw you and you walked over to him telling him your plan. You walked to the usub and showed him you didn't have a gun. “Hey marcus. You gotta let her go.” you said as he shook his head. “No she ruined my family. She has to die.” he said as he pulled the knife out to me. “Marcus you're better than this. She didn't ruin your family. You will be the one doing that if you don't let her go. Think about your kids. Do you really want them thinking their dad could kill them in a matter of seconds? I know your kids mean a lot to you, you're a good dad. I know a good dad, and you are a good one.” you said as he lowered the knife down. “You really think i'm a good dad.” he said as you nodded. “You probably are. And you can continue to be a good dad if you let her go.” you said as he gave you the knife and let go of the lady. You threw the gun away and pulled the lady and motioned the team to go in.
You got the girlfriend back to her family and walked next to spencer. “How'd you know how to stop him?” he asked as you looked over at him. “I knew his kids were a weakness, all the pictures he has of his kids, to him they are everything to him since he lost his wife to someone else. He knew he could be the best to them. i knew he would let her go if i mentioned how good of a dad he would be.” you said as you were happy to have everyone alive.
On the jet you were all happy with what happend. Thanks to you everyone was alive and the kids were able to see their father in visits.
“Good job today mini greenaway.” morgan said as you high fived him. “Thanks.” you said as you read your book. You sat alone as Spencer was sitting with Elle, Prentiss and jj. “Come on spencer, go talk to her, ask her out or something.” jj said as his gaze was cut off. “What?” he said as elle looked at him. “we see the way you look at her.” prentiss said as elle chimed in. “Spencer, go after her. I owe you one.” she said as he scrunched his nose in confusion. “You saved my life remember? Let me save yours.” she said as he smiled heading over to you and talking to you some more. Maybe even getting to tell him your story from before.
Morgan sat with them as he got his wallet out. There was a bet on you two. Seeing how long it took for you two to talk and get to know each other and elle won. It was literally a no brainer, but then again Morgan would say it was unfair since you were her sister but he paid up.
She knew you two were gonna get along and maybe even get together but then again it was only a matter of time.
#spencer reid#spencer reid imagine#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid x you#spencer reid x y/n#dr. spencer reid#aaron hotch hotchner#david rossi#elle greenaway#sister!reader#emily prentiss#jennifer jareau#derek morgan#chocolate thunder#criminal minds imagine
190 notes
·
View notes
Text
Ducktales: Terror of the Terra-Firmians! (Lena Retrospective) (Commission by WeirdKev27): Launchpad Looses his Last Brain Cell and I Loose My Patience
Welcome back Weblena Warriors to the second part of my look at everyone’s favorite Emo Teen Shadow Lesbian Duck... and probably the only one but hey, semantics, Shadow Into Light, which was made possible by viewers like you, the ultra humanite and a commission from WeirdKev27. Picking up where we left off, we have our first episode that has a different intended order than airing order.
As most of you probably remember, but some of you who joined later might not be aware of the broadcast order for the first half of season one is, in the academic sense, pretty fucked. It’s not Darkwing Duck’s entirely fucked by a web of badger spiders and a queen snake on top to make it some sort of train situation, but by just sorta airing whatever episodes they wanted to, Disney messed with the character balance so Huey got less focus, not that he got a ton of focus this season but still, as well as leaning into the episodes focusing more on the kids with less involvement from the adults which gave the wrong impression about the series. While it IS very focused on the triplets and webby, the show isn’t entirely about them, but as Frank has mentioned a few times, Disney Channel apparently has this WEIRD thing where they assume kids won’t like stories starring the adult characters.
Yeah I’ve been wanting to talk about this for a while. Mostly how it’s so dumb I could swear Pauly Shore was an exec at Disney Channel. And he might be I don’t know what he’s doing these days and i’d like to keep it that way. For starters, the Scooge comics, while barely published in the US these days, are still popular globally and have appealed to kids and adults for generations and are mostly focused on him, with the kids in a supporting role and Ducktales, you know the thing your directly remaking here, was also mostly about him with the triplets supporting, if a bit less than the comics. Most of the Disney Afternoon was about adult characters, with any kids in side roles in the main cast. And it comes off entirely hypocritical of them to say this when the MCU is easily marvel’s biggest cash cow at the moment, and marvel properties have appealed to both kids and adults, like the duck comics, for decades. And if it’s because the marvel cartoons weren’t doing well , I’ll let you in on a little secret: Those didn’t do well because they looked bland and from what I’ve seen of them felt kind of bland, though I haven’t seen enough to fully judge. Kids LIKE adult characters as much as kid characters, and also like teen characters despite not being teens. Focusing on either is valid and while I LIKED Disney’s youth starring shows I also want another X-Men cartoon before I turn 50, and I bet kids would like that too, with the last one only failing because you bailed on it because you were throwing a hissy fit over fox having the movie rights, and do not get me started on that. Point is this argument is horse shit and should stay in the stables.
So yeah I do think this episode came too soon and it’s placement effected it at the time and as such it dosen’t have the best rep with the fandom aside from the Lena bits and that includes me. The fact it was very early in the series and the characterizations hadn’t yet sunk in really hurt this episode in places but is it really that bad? Join me under the cut to find out
We open at the movies! Which scrooge apparently hasn’t been too since the 1930′s or seen any on video despite Della existing and being really stubborn.
A rant for another episode. But the kids just got out of a Mole Monster movie, along with Lena, Beakly and Launchpad. Their reactions are as follows: Lena, Webby and Dewey really enjoyed it, Huey found it unrealistic... says the boy whose uncle fought a dragon made of gold a month or two back but we’ll get to that, and Louie was bored and felt it didn’t have enough of the ultra violence, kids these days it’s not about the gore it’s about the tension. And Beakly.. is just pissed Lena tricked them into seeing this and said it was educational. And the more I think about it the more this sounds like BEAKLYS fault than Lena’s. BEAKLY is the one who likely bought the tickets, who saw it was likely an r or pg-13 and who as we’ve seen HAS A PHONE, and ulnike scrooge probably isn’t so stingy she wouldn’t spring for a smart phone, so she could’ve just googled it, or whatever bird related pun is in this version.. gandered it.. yeah let’s go with that, gandered it, and SEEEN it wasn’t appropriate or walked htem out of the theater and ate the cost if she was that bothered by it. Sitting through a Horror Movie you didn’t research, didn’t pull the kids out of and dind’t bother to even check the poster for or use basic common sense is YOUR fault. And this could’ve worked fine, had Lena talk the kids into begging for it or had launchpad take them and have Beakly find out after, having driven to pick them up as she didn’t trust launchpad to take them home. Instead it makes the former super spy look REALLY stupid and feels really out of character for a SPY to not to do research. And it wasn’t like they decided on this later, Bentina being a spy was part of the character’s backstory from day one and its made clear as early as episode 2 in both airing orders. This is just lazy writing to justify the episode and I expect better from this crew.
But an argument errupts between Huey and Webby over the Terra-Firmians, a hidden race of rock people living in Duckburg’s discontinued sewer system, allegedlys. So Lena suggest simply going down which gets a disapproving look from Beakly, despite you know this being their bread and butter, and the fact that if she had a problem with Scrooge not being involved.. she could just call him. Exploring fabled rock people is something he’d be into. I mean there’s a low profit margin but it also costs him almost nothing to walk to the theater or have launchpad swing around and pick him up. Just gas which given how much he pays for jet fuel isn’t a big ask. But Beakly soon gets distracted by Launchpad whose convinced the film is real and is attacking the poster a grim sign of things to come as while Beakly annoyed me in this one on rewatch, especially after realizing the above... Launchpad annoyed me both times and for VERY good reason we’ll get into. This provides a distraction and allows the trio to escape. Cue titles.
After the title sequence, our heroes head deeper underground, there’s too much panic in this town... I mean props to Donald for trying something new but he really needs to rethink his cologne choices. Sex Panther is just.. not a good smell on.. anyone.
So our heroes journey through the depths of the subway system, and we find out part of why Huey’s so skeptical, as he finds anything that isn’t in the Junior Woodchuck Guidebook to not exist, though the cracks in this already show as he’s added anything that does. We’ll get back to this later but as you can tell the basic dynamic for 24 minutes is Webby being a wholehearted True Believer and Huey being a Skeptical Sally. And Lena is just sorta “Eh gives me an excuse for shenanigans” about it. We also get a peak into webby’s mind as we see her notes .. which really just come off as Terra-Firmian fanfiction involving a war of succession between two sides, the terra’s and the firmies, something based on previous media, and also some doodles of a fictional candy called webby-dings and herself as a superhero, both things I want to see.
But yeah the first third of the episode is pretty simple, just them journeying, the occasional shift in the firmament, and it’s not bad, and there are a few great bits: Huey nerds out about rocks, and finds them way more interesting than a possible rock monster.
Which leads to the best gag of the episode as when Huey tries to pick up a big sample Webby, annoyed at his hyperfixation on the JWG, asks him to ask his book for help.. which he does by reading it and actually manages to pick the large rock up. This is halted though when Lena screams.. though she really just did it to draw them to an abandoned subway car full of glomgold posters for glomgold products because of course a failed subway project has his name plastered over it. You can’t spell glomgold without failure.. the failure is silent. Glomgold is not.
The fun is interuptted though by a livid Beakly who had realized they were missing in an earlier scene, after telling the Manager that McDuck Industries would pay for the poster.. and then found out Launchpad also destroyed the toilets “They come up thorugh the sewers!”. Launchpad that’s CHUDS, Ninja Turtles and Rats who raised Ninja Turtles like their own sons, mole people dig or use old mineshafts. It’s basic mole science. Also Beakly really shouldn’t sweat it, I just assumed the city has had a runnig bill witht he company for “McDuck Family and Employee Related Accidents, Mayhem and Shenanigans”. I mean he’s had Gyro on his payroll for at least a decade and a half by the series start, Gyro has leveled whole sections of city in an afternoon more than most giant monsters. Of which several have destroyed Duckburg. It got better.
Point is she’s livid about them sneaking off with Lena pointing out their some sort of adventure family and Beakly.. saying she won’t see them again, or at least implying it hard. I’ll put a pin in this, as the train buckles and a bit of seismic, or rock men, activity means their stuck. So they divide into teams: Beakly will go try and unhook the train car from the busted cars so they can ride out, Launchpad will go try and fix it, and we get this lovely exxchange as a result
Launchpad: Cool never crashed a train before Beakly: Can’t you try driving it without crashing it? Launchpad: Wha?
His face in that scene is priceless. He takes Dewey along. More on that in a second. Webby, Huey and Louie are told to stay put with Beakly only bringing Lena along because she dosen’t trust her. So since we have three split plots for a second... let’s split up gang, starting with the most aggrivating, middling with what you all came here for and why this is part of the retrsopective, and ending with the plot that directly heads into the final part of the episode.
Launchpad and Dewey: GAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH
Okay starting with the most infamous plot and easily the worst part of this episode, probably the worst plot in any Ducktales 2017 episode. That’s not hyperbole it’s really that bad and really pissed people off, as fans of the original launchpad felt they made him overly stupid. This is where the airing order’s a problem as putting an episode with a subplot where one of your characters is obnoxiously dumb right up front means they assume this is his charcter and not just one poorly written chapter in a very dumb but very loveable characters life, likely because the writers hadn’t figured out how to properly scale his stupidity with comptience.
So as a result we get a good 3-4 mintutes if not agonizingly more of Launchpad assuming something he saw in a fucking movie film was real. That.. that’s his actual plot. Need I remind you, he’s in his late 20′s early 30′s. He’s not much older than me. While other episodes have him as dim this one claims he CAN’T TELL FACT FROM FICTION.
There are lines you have to keep with your characters to keep the audience from hating them. They crossed it about 80 times with this plot and make Launchpad into a gibbering dunderhead who can’t do anything right versus a regular dunderhead whose good at one or two things and loveable enough for us to like him and not care about his numerous safey violations and child endagerment charges. Thankfully this is the ONLY episode that gets this bad and they clearly learned from this, but it dosen’t make it any less of a tough sit.
Dewey spends most of the subplot with a look on his face that just screams that he’s as done with this bullshit as we are, as Launchpad assumes he’s a mole person and brought along a pipe to presumibly bludgeon him, because wanting to cave his best friends skull in over stupidity is a GREAT look> Thankfuly he does not. And when the lights come back on Launchpad.. assumes he’s a monster because of bright light, GAH, and locks him out before they end up outside and the plto resolves itself by Dewey pointing out by Launchpad’s utterly baffling logic that he could be a mole monster, so Launchpad.. assumes he is.
The subplot’s later buttoned up as he claims “I love being a mole monster”, again diffrent subteranian creature launchpad, she says he’s not and my suffering is thankfully at an end. This plot just sucks, it’s bad, overly stupid and dosen’t work with an adult character. Someone like say Ed from Ed, Edd N Eddy, or someone who belivies in weird conspiracy stuff like Dale Gribble or Stan Pines. with either of them this plot would’ve been fucking great. I could buy it from Dale and it just comes off as his normal paranoid weirdness. With Launchpad it comes off like he seriously needs help because the episode frames it as if he can’t tell ficton from reality, and his splotlight episode later would directly contridct this and make this episode even more aggrivating, as he’s a fan of Darkwing Duck, and KNOWS it’s acted out by an actor, so why wouldn’t he get this? It’s just....
It sucks, it sucks and I thankfully get to move on to a better subplot
Beakly and Lena: What You Are in the Dark
Beakly tells Lena she’ll never see Webby again after this.. then chastises her when she won’t help despite you know having just said she’s going to force their friendship apart, which Lena points out. She then gets mad at Lena making a sarcastic comment at her. Okay she’s lived with Louie for at least a week in airing order and a month or two in actual order. She has to be used to this by now. She’s insolent.. because you show her no respect, blame her for something that while sure she talked you into, you should’ve known better, and top it off by saying you want to keep her from the kids because they have bright futures and come from good familes and asks who rasied her and her face.. well.
Yeah wheras Launchpad and Huey, more on that in a second, were hurt by this being some of their earliest big roles, Bentina wasn’t.. until later when we found out just HOW bad Magica is to Lena and how much she dosen’t care about her other than as a tool to use. At this point we didn’t know just how much Lena was playing webby, how much she was only manipulating her, and even with her heroic act here we didn’t know if she only saw Webby as her way to break free. The next episode makes it clear she dosen’t and genuinely does care, 100%, so in hindsight it makes Bentina come off as ghoulsih for horribly asssuming about a girl she dosen’t know, and even if she did know about Magica wouldn’t know the full story, just like us, and then BERATING her after already saying she’s going to rip her away from Webby, which itself is PRETTY bad as she’s the only friend the girl has and sh’es doing so on... talking them into a horror movie, which as I outlined was more Bentina’s fault than Lena’s, and leading the kids into a dangerous place whicha gain, Lena pointed out is something she lets Scrooge do. And trust me i know that she actually knows Scrooge, and we later find out, as we’ll cover next month, that she isn’t ware HOW dangerous things are with Scrooge. It dosen’t change the fact she knows they do dangerous stuff to a point and that Lena may just be acting out. It also dosen’t change the fact she drove three children, yes including launchpad, down here with her instead of sending them home with Launchpad.. granted that option isn’t the safest but it’s safer than taking her with them thena cting like it’s ALL lena’s fault when three of the children, again including launchpad, are down there because of HER. Not Lena, HER. I’m harder on her because she’s older, wiser and was “raised properly” apparently. Though given the way she treats a random teen off the street she again knows nothing about and dind’t bother to ask... it begs the question.
IT’s a good question. I could see the classism coming from being raised in 40′s and 50′s britain, judging by the timeline.. but even then she’s seen the world, and while her nature is supscious, the classit bullshit makes no sense after presumibly working with, and later spymastering for, various agents of various backgrounds. How has she not dropped this in decades. Scrooge very clearly dropped the racisim and homophobia of his time, so it still stands on her for not dropping this. And Lena’s hurt shows under hte mask for the first time, that beneath the snark and secrecy.. is just an abused teenager with nowhere else to go and no way out being bullied by an older woman whose cutting off the only light at the end of the tunnel nto for good reason but out of classist, overprotective mallice. My issues, which to be fair probably were intentional in the episode but sitll are a bit overblown, aside we do get an absoluttley tremendous moment later as a car falls on top of Beakly.. and Magica, speaking once more urges Lena to leave her, let her die and let their plans progress. And while that iself is.. dumb, what if someone finds her or her corpse later, especially since Scrooge would likely perosnally want to retrive the body to give her a proper burial as she’s his only friend at this point, or the rest of the family questoin the story?, it fits Magica’s lack of foresight we see throughout the season. But Lena... saves her. While she later gives an explination, and a valid one at that, it’s clear from her expressoin, her actoins and how she does it... that this is her. Part of it is defiance, as she glares at Magica before doing it, her own stubborn nature mixed with her hatred of her “aunt”, meaning Magica just made it all too easy for her to do this. But the real reason is clear: It’s the right thing to do. While pissing off her aunt and getting away with it is the cherry on top.. the real reason is that unlike Magica.. Lena is not a killer, not a monster, and not a heartless vacum ofa person. Even if she doesn’t like Beakly, for good reason.. she can’t, she WON’T leave her to die and leave Webby an orphan again. She loves Webby too much to do that to her and while she may deny it.. she’s too good a person to leave someone to die for something so petty. Even if she never sees webby again and the plans ruined. It’s better than the weight of knowing she let someone who wasn’t trying to harm her and whose actions, while terrible, were out of misguided protection of her granddaughter, die like this. She saves her. And as we’ll see it pays off.. but before that.
Huey, Webby and Louie: Into the Unknown This plot’s a bit shorter, as Webby and Huey continue their argument, with Louie eventually making it clear, and not even hiding it when directly asked by Huey, that he’s playing both sides with a delighted expression on his face as the movie was boring but this, this is interesting. Which it is. But it’s interupted by dings on the roof and while Huey assumes i’ts just a regular rock, it moves while their not lookiung.. and soon red eyed, horrifying beasts look out at them and the kids flee back to the car. This dosen’t pan out as the car starts to shake and is clearly going to collapse.. and while Webby and Louie are prepared to flee, rock monsters or no, Huey, in an utterly heart shattering image.. stays in place, terrified of moving.
This is where this plot goes from mildly aggrivating, as Huey’s Skeptic shenanigans can get on the nerves.. to BRILLIANT. See at the time this was more annoying because it was assumed the skepticsim would be a part of Huey’s character and we’d get more episodes of him being annoying only to be proven wrong, as he semeingly dosen’t learn his lesson at this point, looging the terrafrimians in the guide book. But on rewatch.. this plot is amazing. For starters the plot subtly introduced the defening characteristic of Huey’s personality, one that’s become more prounounced in Season 3: His need for Order. He needs things to make sense: He solves stuff because he likes there to be order in the world and something he can understand, he can put in a box in his head. Like a lot of neurotypical people, myself included, he struggles horribly when the clearly defined boxes of his life and things he undestand have wrinkles or complexities he can’t get. I for instnace easily got it when I was introduced to the concept of trans people or being non binary.. they just make sense in hindsight: given how our brains are messya nd complicated it makes sense some people would be born in the wrong ones, and tht with all the science and medicine we have to correct that, should be allowed to transition if they so choose. It makes equal sense that some people just don’t have a gender or are gender fluid, being both or neither. Despite struggling with non binary prounouns due to force of habit.. I get the concept with no real difficulty. But when it comes to accepting I don’t have to apologize for everything and that everyone is not angry or that anger is natural and people sometimes get mad and you can’t and shouldnt’ fix it.. it’s something I STRUGGLE with even knowing it’s not right, because my brain is just wired that way.
That’s how Huey’s struggle comes off here.. he reveals he’s willing to stay and die.. because he’s SO scared of the unknown, that the idea of dying from something he at least knows what it is versus something he dosen’t.., so paralizyed by his own brain he can’t figure out the obvious.. it takes Webby reaching out to him figuratively and literally, to show him that sometimes you have to face the unknown. The unknown is fucking terrifying.. but it can be good and it’s better than sitting there, scared and unable to move. You have to try, to grow and take that risk that things may not go well to really LIVE.
So he does.. and they reunite with the rest of the group.. and soon find the terrafirmains.. who as it turns out once we get some light on them... are actually just goofy looking, brightly colored, each one matching one of the kids, kids themselves, and Huey reaches out and touches one, which by ET logic means their friends now, and the terrafirmians help them get out. And this lesson sticks. While sure Huey catalogues it and it seems it didn’t.. he’s never this skeptical again. This douchey skepticsim was only for one episode, his fear of the uknown replcaed with boundless curosity and from here on he’s CURIOUS about new stuff as long as it’s not trying to kill him. He loves taking in new experinces, maybe not to webby levels but he does actually try them and study them instead of just fearing them.
Before we wrap things up, obviously we need to talk about the JWG not having entries on a lot of stuff. This would be corrected next season as it returns to being a big book of everything, but dosen’t completely contridct this as Timephoon! shows there’s stillcgaps.. which i’m fine with. While it knowing EVERYTHING was fine for the original series here, with things being slightly more groudned, it’d just be an obvious plothole if Huey didn’t use it every single time they ran into something and that’d get boring. Instead it’s simply that it dosen’t know everything, and really in the comics at times it didn’t and the triplets found out new things. It knew almost everything mind you, but having some gaps for dramatic tnesion is fine with me and Seasons 2 and 3 decided on that instead of just having it being a scouting manual which wa sfor the best. And even by later in the season hit has guides to getting a small buisness loan, so they already course corrected.
So everything’s wrapped up and while Magica berates Lena for disobeying her.. Beakly interputps, thankfully not seeing magica and admits she was wrong and invites Lena for pancakes, even taking a crack about if their actually pancakes or english muffins with syrup, which sounds like my own living hell, in stride, having clearly grown. And Lena explains to Magica that this was the better approach: now she’s got the in theyw anted, and is above suspcison for now. Still not so much that an obvious act won’t be detected but enough that she dosen’t ahve to work actively around her anymore. Magica scoffs.. and while part of it is probably rage.. part of it is deep down both of them know she did it out of defiance.. and only Lena knows that she did it for the right reasons... she just dosen’t get why. She probably justifies it as playing the long game.. but deep down she knows something’s changing about her.. and she’s not sure if that’s a godo thing or not.
Final Thoughts: This episode is as you can tell a mixed bag. It’s 2/3 of a good episode, with the Lena plot, my issues aside, being excellent and the Terra-Firmian plot likewise fun, even if Huey can get grating the payoff is worth it, and the jokes are really high quality. It’s just bogged down by that fucking launchpad plot that just crushed my soul in it’s palms every time it came back. I went on at length why i hated that one but boy oh boy was the hate of that subplot warranted and I stand by calling it the worst plot of the series. It is: it’s not funny, it makes no goddamn sense, and it drags down what’s otherwise a pretty solid epsiode.
Next Time on Lena: Jaws the shark, lurking in the dark, in the depths of the bin one day of a lark decides to get rowdy, get real violent takes a vacay out to Duckburg er.. Island.. also Scrooge faces his greatest Nemesis.. a PR Tour to clean up his image after an unfortunate giant Beanstalk Incident. Be there and be hip to be square.
Next Time on This Blog: I Tackle a DCOM for the first time for another commissioned review as we take a look at racisim, specifically Apartheid and breaking indoctrination, with The Color of Friendship. See you next Rainbow.
#ducktales#ducktales 2017#lena sabrewing#webby vanderquack#weblena#bentina beakly#launchpad mcquack#huey duck#louie duck#dewey duck#terror of the terra-firmians!#disney channel#disney xd#disney plus#disney#disney ducks#comissions
32 notes
·
View notes
Text
Stark Spangled Banner
Stab Me In The Front
Part 1: America’s Asshole
Intro: It’s been a year since Katie was held hostage by Hydra, and whilst she’s still working through her feelings she has an idea about how she can make other people’s lives better as a result of her ordeal. Alongside this, she needs to take a trip to Boston to meet Harlan Thrombey-SIP’s latest author. Slightly nervous about taking a business trip alone after what happened last time, Steve offers to go with her.
What could possibly go wrong?
Warnings: Bad language. SMUT (NSWFW)
Pairing: Steve Rogers x OFC Katie Stark
A/N: So, here we go. This was a request/idea from @icanfeelastormbrewing for an Avengers/Knives Out Cross Over where Katie and Steve come face to face with America’s Asshole! The tongues are sharp and the knives are out! This is set in 2015 so way before the KO storyline so therefore contains no spoilers!
Oh, @angrybirdcr I bloody love this edit and banner- the edit you have named the Ransom pre- Steve-Rogers-fucked-my-face-after-I-called-his-wife-a-hoe edit...
Disclaimer: This is a pure work of fiction and classified as 18+. Please respect this and do not read if you are underage. I do not own any characters in this series bar Katie Stark and the other OCs. By reading beyond this point you understand and accept the terms of this disclaimer.
Stark Spangled Banner Masterlist // Main Masterlist
October 2015
“So, Mr Thrombey, that’s all confirmed.” Katie tapped at a key on her computer to lock the meeting in her calendar. “11 am, Next Thursday, the 15th ”
“I’ll send you through the zip code and location for your GPS.” Harlan responded “The house is just outside of Lincoln, not far from Pierce Park. It shouldn’t be too far for you if you’re staying at the Harbor.”
“Thank you.” Katie smiled as she spoke into her phone.“I look forward to meeting you on Thursday Sir.”
“Oh, less of the Sir, Harlan please. And the pleasure is all mine Miss Stark, I mean, Mrs Rogers, my apologies!” The man chuckled. “And thank you for accommodating my need to pull this meeting forward by a few days.”
“It’s not a problem.” She assured him. They exchanged pleasantries again and then she cut the call and leaned back in her chair, cracking her neck, before she double checked the travel arrangements. The hotel was booked, flight was sorted, hire care was confirmed. All that she needed to do was not forget the annotated manuscript or the cover ideas.
The door to her office opened and she looked up to see Tony leaning in the doorway, waving a Starbucks cup at her, along with one of their familiar brown paper bags, clearly bearing treats.
“I love you, bro!” She smiled at him as he wandered in, chuckling, placing the drink and paper bag down in front of her. She looked into the bag and gave a moan when she saw it was a rather large, gooey looking brownie, and gave a bigger moan when she sipped her drink and found it to be a Pumpkin Spiced Latte. “Perfect Elevenses!”
“Well thought you might need one, you’ve been locked in here since seven this morning…”
“You got FRIDAY spying on me?” She narrowed her eyes at him.
“No.” He denied, but at the same time the AI affirmed her suspicions.
“He has indeed had me watch you, Mrs Rogers.” “Traitor.” Tony rolled his eyes and Katie chuckled
“Well I had all this Harlan Thrombey stuff to sort, Steve’s still in Copenhagen with Sam chasing the alleged latest sighing of Bucky.” She shrugged “Not much point in lying in when you’re wide awake is there?”
“True.” Tony nodded. “Are you going back to the Compound tonight?”
“I might just stay here again if that’s ok?”
“Kiddo, you own part of this Tower, it’s always gonna be your home too.” Tony shrugged, “You can stay as long as you want.”
“Thanks Tone.” she smiled. She didn’t want to admit it, but she felt safer in the Tower whilst Steve was away, even thought it was ridiculous as the Compound was just as secure, being closer to her brother was a comfort.
“I haven’t forgotten what tomorrow is.” Tony looked at her.
Neither had she. It was a year to the day since Bucky had pulled her out of that shithole in Canada and rescued her from her ordeal at the hands of HYDRA. With a little sigh, Katie pulled off her glasses, a lasting consequence of her period of capture and torture. Ever since spending six weeks in that constantly lit cell she’d needed glasses for anything that required a long period of concentration on a computer screen or monitor if she wanted to avoid migraines. Bruce seemed to think it was something to do with the fact that her cell had been painfully bright all the time and that continued exposure to artificial light in such a way triggered a subconscious response.
She ran a hand over her face and looked at her brother, swallowing down the sudden spike of emotion, and swallowed.“I’ve been trying not to think about it.” she said gently.
“Which is why I booked you and Pepper into the Dominick for the afternoon.” Tony smiled at her, reaching over to take her hand, giving it a squeeze. “Well, Pepper has, I’ve just given her the credit card. Apparently you’re in for a full deep tissue massage, facial and then Franco’s booked to do your hair, oh and don’t bother telling me you’re busy as I had your diary cleared and everything reschedule to next week” He sat back, watching as she opened her mouth before shutting it, shaking her head softly. “You leave in thirty minutes.”
“You spoil me.” She smiled softly.
“Anything for my girls, plus I thought it might keep you busy whilst Spangles is otherwise engaged.”
“He was hoping to be back but when I spoke to him before he doesn’t know if he’s gonna be.” she shrugged. “It is what it is.” Tony smiled at her before he stood up “Yes, it is. And this afternoon is your pamper time so get your shit together and meet Pepper downstairs.”
“Yes sir.” she said, saluting him with a grin.
****
As with anything Pepper or Tony booked, the spa was off the scale. Katie had been meaning to go for ages, and now, as she sat in the chair in Franco’s salon she was already searching available dates to go back. She laughed and joked with the stylist and Pepper, the pair of them enjoying yet another bottle of champagne as they had their hair done. A couple of hours later, at just gone seven, Pepper dragged her out over the road and into a ridiculously expensive wine bar.
“Feeling better?” Pepper asked as Katie took a huge gulp of her Sancerre.
Katie smiled. “Much, thank you.” “You know, I’m always here if you want to talk to someone other than Steve about stuff.” Pepper looked at her “And it won’t go any further.”
“That’s the thing, I don’t wanna talk about it.” Katie sighed “You know, Pep, I see all these women out there that went through…well, you know, and I read their testimonies and I just wonder how they’re so strong, like, how can they can just stand up and talk about it?” She trailed off, shaking her head “And me? I just wanna pretend it never happened. So much for being an Avenger huh?”
“Hey.” Pepper shook her head, looking at her sternly. “Stop that, right now.” “Well it’s true.” Katie shrugged. “I mean, I’m a public figure right? But all people know is I was missing for weeks, and it was put down to a mission gone awry. I just, well, I feel like I should be out there, trying to make a difference, helping people.”
“Kiddo, what you went through,” Pepper swallowed, “I can’t even begin to imagine. And how you’ve dealt with and processed it, well, frankly I don’t know how you’ve been so strong. There is no shame in wanting to simply move on and leave it in the past.”
“I know.” Katie sniffed a little. “Thank you. Having everyone around me makes me realise how lucky I actually am. I’ve got a huge support network. Not everyone who goes through…well, not everyone has that to fall back on.” Pepper pondered something before she looked at Katie, “You know, we haven’t picked our Partner Charity for the Stark Relief Fund next year. We could make it one that deals with Sexual violence. No need to go into details as to why.” Katie considered that for a moment, before she nodded. “That’s not a bad idea.” She clicked her deep purple manicured nails against her wine glass, thoughtfully. “It would make a difference, right?”
Pepper nodded. “Absolutely. Give it some thought, see how you feel.” “I will, thanks.” she smiled.
****
Steve was exhausted but wasn’t willing to spend another moment away from his wife. So the moment the jet was down he headed straight for the garage, jumped on his bike and roared out of the compound heading down town towards Manhattan.
“Good Evening Captain Rogers.” FRIDAY greeted him as he pressed his palm to the access pad at the rear entrance from the underground car park “Mrs Rogers is in your apartment.”
“Thanks FRIDAY.” he said, as the elevator began to rise. It stopped a few floors up, and when the doors flew open he was greeted by Tony who was undoing his tie.
“Oh, you’re back.” He looked at Steve appraisingly.
“You’re up late.” Steve remarked in response.
“Just working on a few things.” Tony said vaguely. “How was the search for Tin Man?” “Well, it was him alright.” Steve ran a hand down his tired face. “Few more leads to work on. We could have stayed out there for a bit longer truth be told but, well, I wanted to be here tomorrow, you know.”
The two men shared a moment of understanding, both of them having experienced unsurmountable raw pain and anguish over the weeks Katie had been missing and it wasn’t something they were likely to forget any time soon. If ever.
“She know you’re home?” Tony looked at him again. Steve shook his head.
“Wanted to surprise her.”
Tony smiled softly. “She’s probably asleep. Her and Pep have been in the Spa all afternoon and they’ve drunk a lot so…”
Steve gave a huff of a laugh. “Yeah she messaged me before saying you’d sent her there out for the afternoon. From the spelling mistakes in the text I figured there was a fair amount of alcohol that had been consumed.” He paused and smiled. “That was really thoughtful of you, Tony.” “Well it happens occasionally.” Tony sniffed as the elevator stopped at his floor. “Listen, Steve…” Steve turned to face him. “She’s not been herself the last few weeks.” Tony scratched at his beard and Steve took a deep breath.
“I know.” he said gently “I think she’s just, well, processing, if that’s the right word. We only got back from our honeymoon three weeks ago, and it kinda hit her when we got back just what time of year it was. Whilst we were away she didn’t have time to think about it.”
“Just, well, take care of her for me okay?” Tony looked at the Soldier and Steve nodded.
“Always Tony, you had my word on that when I told you I wanted to marry her, and I meant it.”
Tony nodded and clapped him on the shoulder, giving him a look of thanks before he left the elevator on the Part Floor level. It began to rise again and Steve let out a soft sigh. Tony was right, the last two weeks in particular Katie had been a little quiet, less vivacious, almost withdrawn even. At first he had put it down to post honeymoon blues, but Natasha had pointed out that this time twelve months ago she had been at the mercy of HYDRA, with those bastards brutalising her in ways that he couldn’t even bring himself to think about. For this reason, he’d been reticent to go on the latest mission but Katie had insisted, pointing out that they couldn’t not carry on with their lives and that she would be alright.
The fact she had basically moved back into the Tower for the three days he had been gone, however, made him think that she wasn’t quite as alright as she had told him.
The doors opened on their floor and he stepped out. It was mostly dark as he headed through to the bedroom where he found that the TV was playing on the wall, but Katie was fast asleep, one of the pillows clutched to her chest as a makeshift cuddle partner. With a soft smile he closed the door and headed over to the bed. Kicking off his boots he lay on his side, facing her, and brushed her soft hair back off her face before pressing a kiss to the bridge then tip of her nose and finally her lips.
She stirred, her face scrunching up in that adorable way it always did, before she blinked her eyes open. It took her a second to focus but when she did her lips curled upwards into a soft smile which became an ear to ear grin.
“Hey, Sweetheart.” He said softly, kissing her again, his hand cupping her face.
“You’re home.” She reached up to lay her hand over his. “Why didn’t you tell me you were coming back?”
“Wanted to surprise you.”
“Well it worked.”
“I missed you.” He whispered, his thumb caressing her cheekbone as he leaned in for another kiss.
“Missed you more.” She shot back, her lips brushing his and he chuckled.
“Doubt it. How was the Spa?”
“Oh it was amazing.” She gushed, her eyes shining. “I had this deep tissue massage and the guy hit spots on my back I didn’t even know I had. The facial was great, and my hair…”
“I like the colour.” He smiled, gently moving his hand so he twirled a piece around his finger. The ends were slightly lighter than usual, almost a dark honey blonde, and it extended a little up the strands before evening out.
“It’s called ballayage.” She smiled at him. “I just fancied a bit of a change.”
“Looks good on you. And I’m glad you had a nice time, you deserve it.”
“How was the mission? Worth it?”
“Yes and no.” Steve shrugged. “We have a few more leads we can chase up but…” he took a deep breath “I’m beginning to wonder what the point is. He clearly doesn’t wanna be found.”
“The point is he’s your friend, your brother.” Katie moved her hand to run her fingers over his jawline, the pads scratchings lightly against his five-oclock shadow. “Maybe he just needs a bit of time to find himself first, that doesn’t mean you have to give up on him. Besides, I need to give him back his jacket.”
“And I need to thank him. For getting my beautiful girl out and safe.”
“I can’t believe it’s been a year tomorrow since he found me.” She said softly
“Is that what’s been bothering you?”
“Huh?”
“The last few weeks you’ve not been yourself.”
She licked her lips and nodded “Yeah, I just, well, I didn’t give it much thought when we were on our honeymoon, you know, but since coming back and ramping up the Thrombey Campaign it’s kinda hit home a little.” And suddenly Steve understood. SIP were publishing the man’s latest book, “The Colour of Revenge” which was all about a Detective on the trail of a killer who was hunting down and dispatching of six men who had been acquitted of a gang rape and murder.
“Shit.” He let out a groan at the fact he hadn’t made the connection. “Honey, I’m so stupid not to realise that.” “Hey.” She frowned, “Don’t…” She reached up and smoothed the lines that had appeared on his brow and he let out a sigh, gently reaching up to lace his fingers with hers, bringing her hand towards him and placing a soft kiss on her wrist. “It’s better now you’re home.” She assured him gently.
He smiled and gave her a gentle kiss again.
“Is that everything?” He pressed and she hesitated again.
“I’m scared.” She admitted eventually, looking at him.
“Scared of what?”
“Going away, on my own.” The tears welled in her eyes. “I hate that they made me like this, Steve.”
He let out a sigh, he hated that she was scared too. She didn’t deserve it.
“Why don’t I come with you?” He asked, the idea suddenly forming in his mind. Katie stilled for a moment and he continued. “Not to the actual meeting, but I can drop you off and pick you up, hang around, whatever you want me to do.”
She looked up at him smiling softly, not even trying to pretend she wasn’t relieved he had offered. “Would you?”
“Of course.” He nodded, wiping the tears off her face. “You only had to ask.” “I didn’t want to. I know how busy you are here and…” “That can wait.” He held her face in his hands as he drove his message home. “You’re the most important thing in my life and if me coming with you makes you feel better then…” He shrugged “Besides, I’ve always wanted to go to Boston.”
“I know we haven’t been back from our honeymoon long, but maybe we can make a little trip out of it if you like?” Her face was suddenly hopefully “Come back on the Saturday?”
“Sure.” Steve smiled at her. “Let’s do it.”
“Oh, Stevie you’re gonna love it.” she beamed, and he smiled at the way her face had gone from being furrowed with worry to alive with excitement. “Massachusetts is amazing in the fall and Boston is just stunning…” “Well I’ll make sure I bring my sketch book.” He smiled “Give me something to do whilst you’re in the meeting.” “Thank you.” She said softly. “I’ll book us somewhere nice to eat one night. Give us an excuse to wear something pretty.”
“Like you need an excuse.” He teased, and she nipped him harshly on the arm. He chuckled and then with a groan he unwillingly pushed himself up off the bed.
“I need a shower.” He said, almost apologetically. “I won’t be long.”
“You better not be.” She muttered and he smiled, dropping a kiss to her forehead before he headed into the bathroom.
True to his word, he wasn’t long. Five minutes, tops. But by the time he came back, the TV was off and Katie was fast asleep. Thinking back to what Tony had said, he found himself wondering if she had actually slept much at all whilst he was gone.
Steve dried himself off, stepped into a clean pair of boxers and then slid into the bed next to his wife, slipping his arms around her. Once her back was nestled snugly into his chest, he dropped a soft kiss to her neck and closed his eyes, happy to have her in his arms.
****
Steve woke the next morning to find his girl tangled around him. She’d shifted in the night, clearly, and now her face was pressed into his chest, right leg snaked between both of his, her right hand was slid under his arm, lightly gripping his shoulder whilst her left rested against her head, fingers in her hair. Smiling to himself he pulled her closer, relishing the feel of her against him. She murmured something incoherently as she gently moved, her cheek pressing into the hair on his chest, the hand around his shoulder slid down to the base of his back where her fingers simply rested, soft against his spine as she continued to sleep.
And Steve was quite happy to let her nap for longer, using him as her own personal cuddly toy.
He dozed in and out of consciousness again, drifting off for another ten minutes or so, before he felt Katie stirring in his arms, and a soft kiss gently being pressed to his jaw line. He smiled at the contact and tightened his hold on her again, his eyes still closed.
“Morning, Beautiful.” He said softly, his voice still thick with sleep.
“Morning, Soldier.” She said, her cheek returning to his chest as she basked in the safety and warmth of his hold as his hand crept up the back of the stolen shirt she was wearing, his rough fingers ever so gentle against her skin as he trailed the pads up and down her spine.
“Sleep okay?” He asked, his eyes still not opening.
“Yeah.” She assured him, truthfully. It had been the best night sleep she’d had in days.
“Good. What do you fancy doing today?”
He felt her still and then she pulled back slightly, and at that he opened his eyes and blinked to see those gorgeous emeralds locked onto him.
“Are you not needed at the Compound?”
He shook his head “Kitten, I’ve not seen you for almost three days so I figured we deserved one together.”
She groaned “I have meetings this morning.” “That’s okay, I’ll meet you at lunch.” He said, tucking her hair behind her ear.
She didn’t argue. She knew full well why he’d taken the time out, and frankly she adored him for it. Without saying a word she leaned up and captured his lips in a gentle kiss that quickly became heated, but was shattered by the piercing noise of Katie’s alarm.
She gave a groan, and made to move.
“Don’t you dare.” Steve mumbled against her mouth, his grip on her tightening.
“Stevie,” She sighed “I gotta…”
He reached over, his large body flattening her into the mattress making her giggle as he swiped across the screen of her StarkPhone silencing it.
“You ain’t gotta do shit.” He said, hovering over her on his elbows. “Except me.” He added as an afterthought.
“Oh so you’re gonna to explain to the board why I’m late?”
“Well, to be honest,” he said, dipping his head to trail hot kisses up the side of the next, “they probably won’t even notice you’re not there. I mean, are you really that important?”
“Fuck you.” She giggled back.
“Believe me, I’m tryin’” he quipped, his mouth nipping at her ear lobe. That made her giggle even more and she felt his lips curve into a smile against her skin.
“I love it when you do that.” He whispered gently, using his leg to part hers, leaving a large thigh pressed against her mound.
“What?”
“Laugh.” His mouth moved up her jaw line. “It makes me happy.”
“You’re such a sentimental sap.” She mumbled, as his lips claimed hers again, the heat between her legs intensifying as the kiss grew deeper, tongues lashing against one another. Steve pulled back for long enough to pull his shirt over her head before his lips returned to hers and Katie’s hand slid into his hair, one hand gently winding into the longer locks on top, her nails on the other dragging against the hairline on his neck. His hands moved, one gently cupping the side of her face, the other, gently skimming over her breast, her nipples already hardened. He gently teased one with the pad of his thumb and his mouth moved down to the other, his tongue and fingers working in tandem. She gave a little involuntary twitch against his thigh and once more his lips quirked up into a smirk.
“You want something, Baby girl?” He asked, peeking up at her and she nodded.
“Stevie, don’t make me beg, please.”
And when she asked so nicely like that, how could he ever refuse? He hooked his fingers into the sleep shorts she was wearing and worked them down, before flipping down the waist band of his boxers. Katie bent her legs as he shuffled upwards and worked into her, the pair of them letting out a groan each at the stretch as he buried himself to the hilt. Steve’s hands fell to either side of Katie’s face as he held himself up on his forearms, kissing her deeply as he flexed his hips forward, again and again, picking up a gentle rhythm.
It was soft, it was gentle, it was loving, everything she knew her soldier to be and it wasn’t long before he had her writhing and groaning loudly, his lips assaulting that spot on her neck.
“So good,” he groaned, his thrusts getting deeper. “Feel so good, Sweetheart.”
“Keep talking.” She keened, arching into him as her hands raked down his back.
“You were made for me, God I love you Mrs Rogers. So fucking much.” His words were punctuated by his heavy breaths as she gave a soft cry, her head falling backwards, eyes fluttering shut as she tightened around him, her legs shuddering slightly as she came.
“Atta girl.” He panted, his hips becoming faster as he thrust through her orgasm, chasing his own. It wasn’t long before he felt the ribbons in his belly unravel and he came with a cry of his own, his head buried in her neck, hips slowing, thrusts going deeper before he eventually stilled, a loud contented sigh escaping his mouth.
After a few moments of them simply basking in the afterglow, Katie’s hands trailing through Steve’s ruffled hair as his nose slid against hers, she gave a sigh and pushed on his shoulders gently.
“Soldier, I really do need to get up.”
He pouted a little causing her to chuckle before he rolled off her and she pushed herself out of bed, heading for the en-suite. Steve watched her go before he swung his legs from under the covers,, found his boxers, pulled them on and headed down to the kitchen to make them both some coffee. *****
The idea had sprung to Katie as she’d headed out for lunch. The local shop was donating a percentage of its earnings that month to a homeless charity, and it set her mind whirring.
“So you want to donate, all the profit we make, from what is going to likely be the biggest book SIP will ever publish, to charity?” Tony looked at her.
“In a nutshell, yeah.” She nodded. “We can split it across various charities, all those that help victims of sexual assault, abuse or crime…”
“Isn’t that what the Stark Relief Fund is for?” Saul, the SI Finance Director looked at her and she turned to face him.
“Yes, but it isn’t just about the money, it’s about raising awareness.” She pressed “A lot of people don’t know those charities existed. Hell, I didn’t know about half of them until a year ago. If we do this, think of the publicity and the press and…”
She trailed off, looking at Tony. He could see the excitement shining in her eyes. She had a point, and it wasn’t like SI needed the money. SIP was her company after all, and if she wanted to use it to do something good, help people, maybe even help herself…then that was fine by him.
He shrugged and looked round the table “SIP’s vision was never about making money.” Katie beamed at her brother as she realised he was backing her “It was always about helping those who needed a hand to get their work out there…I don’t see why in this case, where they author is already so well-known we can’t use that to help those who need it.”
There was a pause and she looked expectantly round the table. One by one the board members seemed to concede, all of them that is bar their Legal Manager, Dan Robertson who was frowning.
“You’re going to have to bring Mr Thrombey on board Mrs Rogers.” He looked at her. “We can’t just use his book as part of a campaign without his permission.” “I know.” She assured him. “I’ve already realised that. I’m meeting him on Thursday next week, I’ll have a full proposal and pitch ready.”
There were a few murmurs around the table before Tony spoke. “Is that it? Are we settled?”
Everyone looked at one another, nodding, and Katie leaned back in her chair, smiling.
But, she wasn’t smiling now. She had less than twenty-four hours before they set off for Boston and her pitch was only half way through completion.
“Sweetheart.” Steve’s hands slid over her shoulders where she sat on the chair in her office. She looked effortlessly elegant, even in sweats and an off the shoulder sweater, one toned leg stretched out in front of her, the other bent at the knee so her foot was resting on the seat of the chair, her left hand was curled around her shin, her right was tapping at her keyboard, the dark blue framed glasses perched on her nose. “It’s late.”
“I know but,” she sighed, “this means a lot to me Steve. I need it to be right.”
Steve knew better than to argue. Instead he leaned over and kissed the side of her neck. “What are you stuck with?”
“I dunno it just…it all seems so impersonal.” She removed her glasses and wrinkled her nose as he sat down in the arm chair in the corner of the room “Facts and figures on sexual assaults and stuff, we all know it happens, it’s about making people want to do something about it.”
“Are you ready to make it personal?” He asked gently, taking a deep breath. He hated thinking about what she had gone through, he truly did, and if he had half a chance he’d rip the bastards limb from limb. But if she was ready to confront what had happened to her, he had to be there to support and back her all of the way, regardless of his own feelings.
“I don’t know. I was talking to Pepper about this the other day. I should be able to, I should be someone other women can look up to, being an Avenger and all but…maybe I’m just not strong enough.” “You’re the strongest person I know.” Steve leaned forward and locked eyes with her.
“I don’t feel like it when it comes to this.”
“Honey,” he scratched at his head. “Without wanting to sound flippant, since January this year, you’ve been, okay, well maybe okay isn’t the word but you’ve gotten on with things. You’ve moved forward, we both did.”
“Because we were busy, and we had no choice…”
“Well maybe,” he shrugged. “But chasing down a sceptre, fighting Ultron, mobilising a new base, planning a wedding, running a business…it’s all time consuming, stressful stuff that if you really weren’t strong enough to deal with what happened, then it would have all gone to shit and probably tipped you over the edge into a nervous breakdown.”
She brushed a piece of hair behind her ear as she considered what he was saying.
“Honestly…” he continued, his eyes boring into hers. “If you want my opinion I think the fact that it’s the year’s anniversary of what happened that’s playing on your mind a little. You need to stop, look back and how well you’ve done and stop beating yourself up about all the things you haven’t”
She smiled softly and looked down at her hands before she glanced back up at him “When did you get so wise?” He chuckled “Well I am ninety seven years old.”
She laughed “You don’t look a day over twenty five.”
Steve smiled and stood up. “I’m gonna make you a hot chocolate, and you’re gonna stop overthinking everything and come relax. We’re up early tomorrow. You can do the rest at the hotel tomorrow evening.” “No can do, we’re going out.” Katie grinned at him “I booked the Chef’s table at Menton.”
“The what?” Steve frowned.
“You never heard of a Chef’s table?” She looked at him, and he shook his head. “Oh my God I’ve let you down, so badly. Check this out.” she tapped on her computer, bringing up the website and showed him the photos “It’s a private table with a glass wall that gives you a direct view into the kitchen. Totally impossible to get a reservation unless you book like a year in advance. Or name drop.”
Steve groaned. “You seriously dropped the Captain America wants a table line?”
“No, I dropped the Captain America’s wife want a table line.” She smirked, closing down the browser page.
“Pain in my ass.” Steve grumbled, standing up. But as he left the office there was a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.
One that his wife had seen.
*****
“So, was it worth a name drop?” Katie asked as they walked back into the Fireside Lounge located in their hotel.
“I’m happy to overlook the fact you acted like a total brat to make that reservation, yes.” Steve grinned as he went to remove her coat from her shoulders. He looked her up and down, the tight black jump suit she was in was driving him crazy.
She grinned, and then shivered slightly.
“Cold?” He asked, frowning.
“A little, don’t wanna sit in my coat though.”
“Do you want me to nip up to the room, grab your cardigan?”
“Would you?” She asked, even though she knew perfectly well he would.
“Course.” He dropped a kiss to her cheek “You get the drinks in, be right back.”
She headed over to the bar. The bartender, Will, was the same one who had been on before so he greeted her with a smile.
“Mrs Rogers. How was your meal?”
“Fantastic thank you.” She smiled. “Can I get two Bourbon’s please? I’ll leave it to your choice, I’ll be back in a second, just need to nip to the bathroom.”
She excused herself and once she’d finally had the pee she’d been dying for since they left the restaurant, she set about touching up her make-up, smiling to herself. She’d deliberately picked this jumpsuit as she knew it got Steve’s blood pumping. It was a simple, plain black one with a V-neck line, but it was tight. Teamed with a thin red patent leather belt, matching Jimmy-Choos and purse all set off by the bright red lipstick she was sporting, she knew she looked good. Not that Steve had much room to talk, she could happily perve on him in the dark pants he was wearing, teamed with a tweed blazer and that damned blue shirt, his collar left open. Frankly, he looked good enough to eat, which she was planning on doing later.
She headed back into the bar and spotted Steve perched on one of the stools, blinking as she saw he’d changed into a simple brown, long sleeved tee, but then again he always did like to get out of his dress shirts as soon as they got home usually, so she wasn’t that surprised.
“Hey, Handsome. You changed.” She slipped her arms round him from the back. He felt different, he was softer than Steve was. He smelt different, there was a really heavy woody scent to his aftershave whereas Steve’s preferred Hugo Boss was a lot lighter and she realised with horror that Steve hadn’t changed his outfit at all.
This wasn’t Steve.
When the man spun to face her, Katie had to do a double take as the likeness was indeed uncanny at first glance, but as she blinked and looked at him she noticed subtle differences. His eyes were cold and calculating, his jaw line wasn’t quite as sharp as Steve’s and the smirk he wore on his face was nothing like the cheeky one Steve would sport. It was almost a sneer which spread across his face, every feature laced with disdain.
“What the fuck?” The man glared at her as Katie stepped back, holding her hands up in apology.
“I’m sorry, genuine case of mistaken identity,” she said, taking him in. His shirt was the wrong colour too, only she hadn’t been able to see that from the back.
“Yeah well if you’re touting for business I already got some today so get lost.” The man drawled in his light, Boston accent. “Like I just said I thought you were…hang on…” Katie frowned as his words registered “You already got some?”
“Yeah, that’s right.” He looked her up and down, arching a brow.
“You think I’m a hooker?” Katie snorted.
“Pretty high end one though, I’ll give you that.” The man’s voice was now amused, as he nodded towards her chest.
“I’m not a hooker.” Katie shook her head, laughing in disbelief.
“Oh, sorry. Do you prefer the term escort?”
She rolled her eyes, flashing her left hand at him. “I’m married, this was a genuine mistake….”
She moved away from him to the side, nodding at Will who slid the check over for her to sign to charge the drinks to their room.
Ransom observed her for a moment, fighting the smirk that was threatening to break across his face. After another row with his stupid Libtard cousin and his mother who had been at his Grandfather’s house before, he’d come out with the sole intention of getting laid and then so drunk he could hardly remember his name. After a visit to one of his usual fuck pieces, he’d achieved the first part, now he was concentrating on the second. He’d been initially irritated by this woman’s interruption, but now she was getting sassy back, and he wasn’t about to let it drop. He could tell she had money,that much was clear to see. The way she talked, held herself, was dressed. Whilst she wasn’t a hooker as he had originally thought (although to be fair to her, she was pretty hot, he’d consider fucking her if the opportunity arose), she was probably living off some seventy odd year old rich banker husband. Huh, maybe she wanted a fuck after all…frustrated little trophy wife.
“So, tell me. Does your husband know you’re here trying to tap me up?” He looked at her.
“You know, if I was trying to errr…tap you up, you wouldn’t be able to afford me” She shot back, signing her name on the cheque with a flourish.
“Try me.” Ransom smirked, making a show of looking her up and down. “How much for that ass?” “I’ll kick yours for free you self-entitled dick.” She glared at him before she slid the signed paper and pen back to the bartender.
Ransom gave a bark of a laugh “I’ll pass thanks.”
Katie snorted and glanced sideways at look at him, scarlet red lips pursed as she eyed him over her glass of bourbon. “Good decision, because I’ve dropped bigger men than you for fun.” “Sure you have, Dollface” Ransom quirked an eyebrow, elbow leaning on the bar, angling his body towards her. She kept hers facing forwards, arms resting on the bar top, her head shaking slightly.
“You have no fucking idea who I am do you?” Katie shook her head, not looking at the prick stood next to her. She hated using that line, but, well, when the occasion arose to get one over on a weasely little shit like this, she wasn’t going to pass it up.
“Why should I?” He snorted “I don’t know all the little bitches in Boston.”
Katie felt her mouth drop open and she was about to retaliate when Steve gently appeared by her side, dropping her cardigan over her shoulders.
Ransom recognised him straight away. He’d had it quite often, been told he looked similar to Captain America. So this meant the woman he’d been baiting for the last five minutes was his wife, Katie Rogers, sister of Billionaire Tony Stark, the Avenger, Supernova.
He’d called Supernova a hooker.
Ransom looked into his glass of scotch, turning away back to the bar, snorting with laughter.
“Sorry baby, Sam called and…” Steve stopped, frowning at the look on Katie’s face. “You okay?”
“Fine.” She looked up at him, smiling and nodding towards a cosy sofa over at the other side of the bar. “You wanna go sit down over there?”
“Sure.” He nodded, picking up his glass of bourbon, he held out his free hand for her and she jumped down off the stool.
“I’d like to say it’s been a pleasure.” She snarked to the man next to her “But I don’t lie so…”
Steve frowned, wondering what had gone down whilst he’d been away. He glanced at his wife and then turned to look at the guy that was sat on the stool next to where Katie had been to see if he recognised him and did a double take. He recognised him alright, but only because he looked incredibly like him. Granted, there were a few subtle differences, but the resemblance was uncanny, to the point that at a first glance in the street, you could be fooled.
“Pal, you should keep that bitch on a leash.” Ransom spoke, his eyebrows raising and in front of him Steve stiffened.
“What did you just say?” He frowned, pulling himself up to full height.
“Seriously, man. You save the world from Nazi’s, get frozen for seventy years and then end up marrying that.” Ransom smirked, enjoying baiting the Captain “I’d ask ‘em to put you back under…”
Steve’s nostrils flared and he felt his neck getting warmer. “Don’t you dare talk about my wife like that.”
“Steve, leave it, come on.” Katie gently placed her palm on Steve’s chest. “The guy’s a complete ass hole. If brains were dynamite I doubt he’d have enough to blow his head off.”
“Well if we’re talking about blowing,” Ransom looked Katie up and down before locking onto her eyes. “You up for the job?
Katie let out a bark of a laugh, her hand still on Steve’s chest which was positively humming with anger as she turned to face Ransom, contempt etched across every single inch of her face.
“Go jerk yourself off and wipe it on a curtain like your father should have done with you.”
“I’d rather wipe it in your hair.” came the quip back.
And that was it. That was the point that Steve Rogers snapped.
There was a loud smash, the glass he was holding shattered in his grip as his fist contracted in pure anger. Katie barely had time to realise what had happened before he had stepped forward and grabbed Ransom by the front of his shirt, lifting him with ease, slamming him on the bar.
“Steve!” Katie pulled on his arm. “Baby, he really isn’t worth it, let go!”
“Captain Rogers!” Will behind the bar was desperately trying to talk him down as well “Please, don’t make me call security.”
Security! Steve wanted to snort. Like that would do any good.
“Soldier, come on.” Katie tried again, pleading to his reasonable side. “Look, we’ve had such a nice night. Don’t let him ruin it.”
Steve let out a deep breath, he wanted nothing more than to knock the asshole’s teeth down his throat, but he felt Katie’s touch on his arm and her pleading tone and he let go, shoving the man hard.
“I would tell you to apologise.” Steve snarled stepping back. His voice was steely, eyes carrying none of their usual warmth.“But I suspect it’s pointless”
“Yup.” Ransom nodded “Totally pointless.”
“Like your existence.” Katie mumbled, Ransom snorting in response. “Look, Drysdale, my manager’s told you before.” Will said, his voice laced with vexation as he shuffled from behind the bar to sweep up the glass that Steve had shattered. “Any more trouble and you’re gonna be banned.”
Ransom’s nostrils flashed angrily as he looked at the man “’I’m gonna be banned? Eat shit! He’s the one that just attacked me! He ripped my shirt!” he gestured down to where Steve had grabbed him, two tears either side of the buttons of his shirt “This is a Fendi!”
“Ransom, just shut up and apologise.” Will pressed again. “Or you’re gonna have to leave.”
“Fuck this, I was going anyway.” Ransom snarled, knocking back his drink. He stood up and pulled on a long, tan coloured camel coat before he glared at Steve then Katie “Really bad smell in here.”
Katie rolled her eyes, deciding to let him have that childish one without any fuss. But Steve didn’t.
“Close the door on your way out.” He watched as the man stopped, took a deep breath before angrily flinging the door open, his coat flapping behind him. There was a moment’s pause before it slammed shut.
“Sorry.” Steve turned, apologising to Will.
“He’s a dirt bag and a cretin.” Will shrugged, as he waved the apology off. “No redeeming features whatsoever. Well, none that I’ve seen and trust me, I’ve seen him a hell of a lot.”
“Is your hand okay?” Katie asked Steve gently. She turned his right hand over to see that there were no cuts at all from the glass, which was good.
“Yeah, fine, don’t worry.” Steve looked at her, frowning. “Honey, what on Earth just happened?” He asked her softly, as she took a deep breath, blowing it out of her mouth.
“I went to the bathroom and when I came back, well, I thought he was you from behind so gave him a hug.” She shook her head “Soon as I touched him I realised I was very, very wrong. I tried to apologise and he called me a hooker.”
“A hooker?” Steve repeated, arching an eyebrow.
“Yeah, so I told him even if I was he wouldn’t be able to afford me.”
At that Will, who had been busy pouring them both another drink, laughed as he slid two short tumblers of bourbon back over to them. “He won’t have liked that at all.”
Steve nodded his thanks to the man as Katie looked at him. “How come?” She asked.
“Well, simply put, his family one way or another are loaded, and Ransom likes to be the flash bastard if you get what I mean.”
“What do his family do?” Katie asked, “I’ve never even heard of the Drysdales.”
“His mother and father run a real Estate Company.” Will shrugged, “A local one round Massachusetts, but you’ll have heard of his grandfather, or if you haven’t you’ve been living under a rock for the last twenty years.” “Who?” she asked.
“Harlan Thrombey, the crime fiction author.” Will replied, and Katie felt the colour drain from her face. She turned to look at Steve whose eyes had also widened, and she gave a groan.
“Shit.”
**** Part 2
**Original Posting**
#stark spangled banner#steve rogers#Katie Stark#steve rogers x ofc#steve rogers x original female character#ransom drysdale#mcu#mcu fanfic#avengers#marvel#marvel fanfic
51 notes
·
View notes
Text
jimin: sidewalk sugar (m)
[unedited - reupload - will edit soon!] ❝ you met your sugardaddy on the sidewalk? - jeon jungkook 2k16 ► 9955 words // scenario, sugardaddy!jimin ❣ one of my absolute favorites! ;w;
There are days where you love life to the end of time. Everything seemed to be a domino effect of pleasant things going your way; planned itinerary finishing on time, unexpected good news, maybe even a raise in your salary but that’s highly doubtful but a person can hope, no? It’s all the possible good emotions bottled up into a day, the span of twenty-four hours oozing with nothing but smiles and giggles. Those days are what you aim for the most, or at least, try.
Today was not one of those days.
Today was really not one of those fucking days.
Getting up late for work even though you set two alarm clocks? Yeah, those tiny pieces of shit decided to spell out fuck you in numeric because you got up an hour later. The regular bus you took seemed to be late and there was no way in hell you would make it in time for your first class. That would resort to your second class but hey, look who decided to trip you and spill coffee all over your notes? Ah, this is also a giant middle finger shown from God when a random passerby decided to help you and fuck me man, he’s gorgeous.
It’s already bad enough that the notes you’ve spent so hard had brown splotches and even if you wiggled them out, it’s going to take a ton of writing to make up for the loss. You try not to cry, simply because you get emotional when things get tough and hey you’re human, it’s normal. But when so many things are falling out of your way in just the beginning of the day, might as well set yourself on fire. The stranger that bumped into you hadn’t even had the guts to apologize just as he tries to scurry himself up and make a dash for it.
You would’ve let him go, because if you saw his face, you’d remember his face structure and made sure you’d add a little extra in his drink if he ever walked into the coffee shop you worked at. But another voice seemed to caught him down for you.
“Hey. I believe you owe this lady an apology,” At the authoritative tone, you down your guts about to throw up, tilting your chin up to see a man clad in a suit, tailored to perfection wrapped around his slim figure was the owner of that sweet, honeyed voice that sounded so powerful as each word fell from his mouth. You gape, aware of the stares you’re getting because this is a bloody sidewalk where at this time it’s the most packed that you naturally reach out to tug on the hem of this… stranger’s pants. You’re trying not to stain his attire because it looks too expensive for your ass to cover that but you give your best, “D-Don’t, it’s fine…”
The handsome stranger lets the other stranger go, growling a beat it before he lets him scramble off while you’ve gone back to gathering your notes. When you see that another set of hands help you out in picking up the sheets of hand-written notes, you realize you’re not alone. As you reach for the last one, he does the same and your hands brush against each other. He gasps and stops, only for you to snatch it before mumbling a soft thanks. He gets up, offering you help as well and where in the name of God did he come from?
He carefully hands you back your notes and smiles at you in apology despite this not being his fault, or his business to begin with. His black hair mused as if someone had just ran their hands through them, dark, round eyes disappearing when he smiles, lips soft and pink as they radiate warmth to seep in your veins, it’s difficult to keep eye contact when remembering your current state.
Your white blouse is now half brown, black pencil skirt coated with a thin layer of the remnants on the pavement and let’s not even begin with the marks on your kneecaps. But none of that is compared to the look on your face as you bite down on your lip, staring at your hours of hard work now flushed in the drain. In other words, a large cup of black Americano from an asshole.
“Hey…” His voice is still sweet, this time dropping to lukewarm as his hand graces over to your shoulder, trying to comfort you when the tears well up in your eyes, “A-Are you okay…?”
Managing to look at him in the eye, you nod and smile despite the single tear straying down your cheek. As his eyes look painfully immersed in the emotions of your own, of how he frowns and the lines crease his forehead, he intends to say something about you lying. But you soon correct yourself with the shaking of your head, hanging your head low, “No,”
Even saying a word with one syllable was hard and it makes him sick to his stomach.
He brings things to his own hands, moving the one from your shoulder to use two fingers to tip your chin up so he can look at you properly, his smile appearing once more, “Is there any way I can help you?”
With an intake of air, it fills up your lungs and your mind of what you should do but what you really do instead as you wipe the remaining tears that fall from your eyes. He acts quick, fishing out an ironed and nicely folded handkerchief that carefully swipes your tears away. He quietly tugs you to the side, to avoid walking traffic and when you’re at a safe distance by the wall, you lean against it and he doesn’t like how you look like one of those nice people who just gets shitty things happening to them.
“Really, let me help you. Whatever it is, I’ll try,”
Initially your plan was to comeback with a snarky comment like why the fuck do you care but upon meeting his eyes and seeing how genuine they are in helping, you can’t. He looks like he donates half of his earnings to charity and with that, you’re not about to treat someone else like shit because your day got started off the wrong way.
“Unless you can miraculously make my notes clean or my clothes, I don’t think so,” Shaking your head at his incredible hospitality, you gently put his hand away from your cheek, “But on the other hand, I appreciate it. Thank you,” You give his hand a light pat as it falls to his side and gather every ounce of selfesteem left in you to turn on your heels to start walking away. Not even halfway through this coffeeshop to your right, his voice that you seem to recognize calls for you with—“Wait!”
You do stop but you’re not expecting much until he jogs around you, reappearing before you again. He catches his breath and then says past a heavy exhale, “I can help. Well, only half of that but… do you trust me?”
If he’s thinking this is one of those movies where you’d just gladly accept his hand and run away to the sunsets, man he has another thing coming. Raising a brow at him, you take a step back, to which it deflates his confidence but he doesn’t let it show.
“I… I just met you. And I don’t even know your name,”
He laughs, and the way he laughs completely strikes your heart to the heaven’s at how beautiful it sounds. His head tips back because apparently, you’re a comedian and yes hi hello, you’re hilarious as fuck but no. He leans forward, stretching his arm and hand to you once the laughter dies down. He’s smiling once more, not offended or affected by your response but he is rather impressed. Many your age would be smitten by looks and grabbed by the hook but apparently, there’s still hope left in society.
“I’m Jimin. Park Jimin,” From his eyes filled with sincerity to his smile curved to kindness, you relent and manage your things in one arm, extending the other to place your hand in his. Automatically he curls his fingers around yours, feeling the grip of warmth clutching onto you as you shake his hand lightly, “Y/N. Just Y/N,”
“There, now you know me,” He lets your hand go, to which you go back to clutching onto your notes as he smiles at you widely, “Now, do you trust me?”
Oh what the hell.
With a small smile, you nod, bringing a wider one to Jimin’s lips, “Yeah.”
//
“Um… where are we going?” You only ask now, after seated in his car (which is a fucking Mercedes Benz, one of the limited editions in jet black) as he drives you downtown and once seeing high rises and luxurious lots, you’re certain this part town is none of your favor. “Just somewhere I’m regular at,” He answers with a hint of amusement, taking a side glance to notice how your eyes are glued to what’s outside of the window. The gape you have as your eyes ogle at the sight, he’s certain you’ve never been to this side before. Or you have but never gotten the chance to linger around.
He takes it as you’re done when you close your mouth at the stop he pulls in front of a boutique. Stained glass just for class, the clothes they present out by the line of the sidewalk, it scares you how expensive it must be to even stand in there to breathe. Jimin makes himself known when he opens the door for you, not knowing how to function properly until he offers a hand for you to step out. Once on your feet, you rely on him to lead you into the shop with his hand in yours.
The bells ding upon arrival, stepping in and automatically, there’s a man clad in a striped suit, similar to Jimin’s, the pattern only distinctively different from his. He’s taller, of silver hair combed back and a dimpled smile shining your way when he walks around the counter, “Ah, Min. Brought a lady back, I see,”
Jimin only chuckles, grip loosening on your hand as he steps forward to offer whoever this is a hug and—“I’m Namjoon, Kim Namjoon.”
“Y/N,” You manage softly, reaching to shake his hand and everything else that happens after leaves you in a daze. With the snapping of his fingers, there’s a lady coming out—high waisted skirt, pretty peach blouse with her hair in a nice bun with a few allowed strands by the side of her face, she takes your measurement. There are no words exchanged as you stand there, like a doll for her to dress up. As she steps away with a measuring board, she clicks away back into the curtains.
Gulping, you turn to look at Jimin, who’s seated on one of the black leather sofas and he smiles at you, motioning you with a hand to follow her. You’re about to protest, something like I can’t afford this but when he looks so confident, as if he knows what you’re thinking, you relent and stalk behind her. Past the curtains there’s already a row of clothes by the side, a mirrored wall that puts emphasis that this room might be bigger than you thought. The lady earlier smiles at you and picks out something that might match your taste and true enough, it does.
It’s a nice white dress shirt with sleeves that curl around your wrists with lace. The buttons are of gold with white thread and the pencil skirt she picks out almost looks like the one she has on but this is in your size, fitting right above your knees. She gives you privacy to change and just as you slip on the skirt, she steps around your discarded clothes to reach behind you, zipping you up before you can do it yourself. With a grateful smile, you look at her over your shoulder, “T-Thank you,”
“You’re welcome, love,” She winks, picking up what you should be and before you can take it back, she frowns at you, “Um… I don’t think this is worth saving. Even with the quality of cleaning products we have, it might not work,”
She notices how you’re attached to it because that’s my favorite… but you’re quick to shake your head, brushing it off with a small smile, “I-It’s okay, then…”
“Are you sure?” She wants to confirm she has your green light and when you nod once more, she disappears and goodbye, half a month’s worth of paycheck. You come to realize there’s no time to sulk when a voice startles you from the other end and in this case, it’s not Jimin. Smoothening your hands down on your clothes, it feels so foreign, a little too expensive but you like it. Turning around, you nudge the curtains aside and come face to face with Namjoon, who grins, “Looks great,”
Grinning back, you step out to follow him, “Thanks,”
As he leads you to the counter he stood behind not too long ago, filling out a card for you to take. “If you need any other assistance in the future, bring this back,” It has your measurements and whatever it is to tailor to your needs and you blink at it before taking it carefully, “Thank you but… I don’t think I’ll be coming back,”
Noticing it came off wrong, you shake your head and almost crush the card out of nervousness, “N-Not because the selection here is bad! Because, um… I don’t have the money…”
“Well, with Jimin, it’s off the house,” Namjoon says smoothly, folding his arms and leaning forward to eye you with curiosity that has you growing conscious with how you look, “By any chance are you younger?”
“Than Jimin?” Namjoon nods. “I guess? I’m not too sure—“
“Is he your sugar daddy or something?”
Gawking at his assumptions, you now know Namjoon’s not one to sugar coat his words. Finding your words, they fly out filter before you can hold yourself back, “I wish he was,”
“Wish who was your sugar daddy?” A voice pops up from behind and you watch as amusement fills Namjoon’s eyes, belittling you as he smirks and stalks off to the side, gone as he walks past the blinds. Gulping, you turn around carefully and offer him a crooked smile, hands behind your back, “Um…”
He steps forward, closer and closer until he’s in the personal of your space. His hand reaches up, putting strands of your hair behind your ear as he hums for an answer, “Hm?”
“You. But we were just kidding and—“
“Shame, I’d actually take it up,” He coos, finding that you’re not all as you seem and he likes it. Jimin likes it a lot. With his hand, he carefully strokes your cheek and then puts his hands back into his pockets, shrugging at you, “And, you look beautiful,”
“Thank you—thank you but, Jimin, how much is this? I don’t know how long I’d need to take but I’ll pay you back and—“
“No no, it’s my treat, don’t even talk about it.” He shakes his head, tutting at you in the process as he reaches down and holds his palm up. You quietly place your hand after a hushed thank you and Jimin doesn’t think he’s heard anything more sincere in his years of living. Once you have your hand in his, he holds onto it and leads you back out to his car. Neither of you say a word until closes the door of his side of the door and the both of you are inside the vehicle. Anxious, you don’t say anything, keeping your lips shut and only answering him when he asks where do you need to be?
After giving him the name of the university you go to, he seems to be interested, questioning as soon as you strap your seatbelt and he revs the engine, “Final year?”
“How’d you know?”
“Lucky guess.” He snorts, and after that, the rest of the drive is quiet. (but really, he managed to see one of your notes with the hint there)
//
When he reaches just a few blocks away, you manage to place a hand on his shoulder, gaining his full attention, “J-Jimin, you can stop here. I’ll get off,” You take your seat belt off, only to let Jimin hold you back when he does pull over but he keeps the door locked. Unable to open, you look over your shoulder to frown at him, “Jimin…”
“Why not at the front?” He questions, only to have you sighing as you shake your head, “I… I don’t want people to get the wrong idea. I’m sure, for a person like you to be driving a car like this, you’re in no position to be associated with me and just—“
“I don’t care,” He cuts you off, causing you to suck in a breath when he leans over dangerously close and you swallow the lump trapped in your throat, preventing any words from slipping past, “J-Jimin…”
“I’ll drop you off in the front, yeah? Take it as part of the ways you’re repaying me,”
“P-Parts?” You squeak, and Jimin doesn’t answer just yet, chuckling with that beautiful voice of his as he takes advantage at the green light, getting his car back onto the main road as he drives past the remaining blocks. Once reaching the front gates of your university, he doesn’t let you get off just yet.
“How about some dinner tomorrow night? Down at The Grand Marlin at seven?”
Trying to remain calm, you see if you’re on the same page as he is, “A-Are you serious about the whole sugar daddy thing…?”
He raises his brows and lowers them down, an act of teasing you as his voice spells out—“I am if you are,”
Biting back a smile, letting out a shy one, Jimin unlocks the door for you to open the door, in which you get out of the car without a word. He doesn’t know if it’s a good sign or a bad sign but he does know he appreciates the way you rake your hands through your hair, sparing him a grin as you murmur just for him, “See you at seven.”
//
The rest of your day had been better than you had expected. You pass the presentation with a grade that your lecturer seems to be pleased with, lunch was paid for by your friends and tonight your boss called in saying that your shift was taken over by a co-worker, so you need not come in. But this is where everything starts to sink in at the thought of Jimin when you’re reaching a friend’s dorm. Considering you live just next door, you decide to pop up because you need help.
“Wow, who the hell did you rob to get that?” Taehyung’s eyes grow wide, simply because he’s one of the few who knows of your dealings to earn money and there was no way you’d spend for another attire like that when it’s your last year in this hellhole. You laugh and step in, giving him a quick hug before you reach the sofa. He doesn’t let up on it, taking the seat beside you, looking at you dead in the eye, “I’m serious, Y/N. Who did you kill?”
“I’m about to tell you, alright? Jeez, let me breathe,”
He waits until you take three inhales and two exhales and that’s when he shakes you, “Tell me!”
“I don’t think you’re going to believe me,” Your voice is shaky, the same time you drop your bag to the side and he scoffs a laugh, rolling his eyes along the way. He brushes his brown hair back and leans against the arm of the sofa, grabbing onto a pillow to hug and tossing you one, “Please. I think after what happened with Jungkook, I believe everything is possible now. Try me,”
“I… got myself a sugar daddy. Or at least, I think so…?”
“Woah, okay, okay,” Taehyung takes in your words, the new information digesting in his system before he—“I was not expecting that. The closest I thought you would get is friends with benefits but a sugar daddy? Who the fuck begged on their knees to get fucked this time?”
Before you can answer, the hollering down from the hall has the both of you flinching, “Who got a sugar daddy?!”
Taehyung groans and tosses his head back, glaring at the face popping out and now seated by your other side, looking over your shoulder in excitement.
“Fuck off, Jungkook. She was just about to tell me!”
“Us,” He corrects, “Now proceed,”
“His name is Jimin and I met him earlier today by the sidewalk and—“
“You met your sugar daddy on the sidewalk?”
“Yes, Jungkook I met him on the sidewalk where the fuck do you think I was supposed to meet him? A five star hotel?”
“That would’ve been more believable,” Taehyung muses and Jungkook snorts, “I know, right?”
“Anyway,” Your voice is loud enough to get them to shut up and luckily, they do. “We’re going out for dinner tomorrow night and I don’t know what I should do,” Letting out a sigh, you look at the both of them, back and forth, “Help me?”
The both of them decide not to poke fun on this too much, Taehyung thinking of something to say, something not stupid but Jungkook’s faster, being the quick thinker. He places a hand on your shoulder, making you face him and Taehyung raises a brow to what he might propose, “Set rules of what you want. Like, what you’d do and what you wouldn’t do.”
“Ah, make sure he’s clean, too! Get tested. Together. Or not, up to you,”
“Make sure he signs it, too. Keep it valid and—“
“If you don’t enjoy it, call it off. The rules are there to validate what you’ve agreed to. If anything, we’re on your speed dials and—“
“Could you please the ever loving fuck stop cutting me off?” Taehyung hisses, to how how manages to smack his boyfriend over your shoulder and you bark with a laugh, leaning back on the sofa with your arm clutched onto the pillow, pressed to your stomach, “Oh my god,”
“I’m trying to make sure her sugar daddy doesn’t take her for granted! Most assholes are like that nowadays!”
“We don’t even know who he is!”
“Exactly! That’s why we need to be careful!”
“Oh, Y/N, I know just what you should wear,”
“Fuck me, why are we dating?” Jungkook groans, leaning back and giving up on saying anything while Taehyung hops off the sofa, patting your head and sparing a kick to Jungkook’s shin, “Shut the fuck up. You were the one who turned gay for me,”
As Taehyung scurries off to retrieve what he has in mind for your date, you only laugh at Jungkook’s reddening cheeks and snarky words, “Bitch! I’d turn gay for myself!”
//
There are perks when it came to having friends who are in the fashion designing course. They’d make lovely clothes with such detail that makes your eyes double over at what Taehyung had to offer you. It was one of his final projects, to which he had you model in a year ago and now, it seems like it paid off. What took him a month of planning and two weeks of execution (Jungkook almost getting a black eye for spilling soda on the fabric and him needing to reorder another roll of silk), now it fits like a glove.
You make an effort to do your make up, your hair and picking out one of your favorable shoes that wouldn’t be death to walk in. Heels are the way to go so you chose the ones you liked most. As you reach the place he’s talked off, you’re sure this is it. And boy oh boy, it’s as grand as the name itself. You’re not too sure if you know who you’re dealing with but now you most certainly do. As if yesterday wasn’t enough, this is ten times more.
The waiter smiles at you just as his co-worker opens the door for you to step through. He smiles at you and flips open his book, pen in his hand, “Hello there, miss…?”
“Y/N,” You answer, trying not to stammer and before you can mention the name you’re here for, he already gets it, “Ah, wait here. We’ll have someone show you the way,”
You try to process what’s going on, blinking at him, “I-I’m sorry?”
“This way, please,” Another voice calls for you and you try to keep up, earnestly not tripping over your heels as you walk, purse by your side (Jungkook got it during some trip, one for you, one for Taehyung). He brings you away from the big crowd, heading straight for what seems to be a private room and your heart stops when he opens the door, revealing Jimin inside looking like a fucking model that stepped out of a magazine.
He decided to drop down on his usual clothes, more for comfort but stylish nevertheless. In contrast to his black dress shirt and white coat, it’s replaced with just a white dress shirt, buttoned up to his chest, revealing enough skin and all the way down, jeans does justice to the curves of his bottom when he stands up to greet you. The waiter leaves the pair of you alone, closing the door and you step in, making your way towards him with your best not to fall over.
You reach him in time before you can make a fool out of yourself and his smile is so wide, his eyes are gone. As he puts an arm around you for a quick hug, you settle down first when he pulls the chair for you, then in as you lean forward. After a soft thank you, he’s in front of you now, on the opposite end with his eyes never leaving yours.
It’s like he’s full of surprises, much like you as a mirror and he’s not afraid to show he’s in awe with the way you look tonight. The white dress compliments your skin, the way it hangs on your shoulders and exposes a part of your back when you look around, a preview of what you have on and he knows you know when you smile back at him.
Before anything else can go on, he pulls out the menu and smiles, again, “Shall we order first?”
Taking the menu you have in front of you, this is the first time you’ve been here and you’re not too sure what to order. Blinking at the words you’ve never quite called out before, you look up to Jimin with a nervous look, “H-Hey, um… I’m not too sure what to order…”
“What do you like?” He questions, tipping his chin up, only to hear your answer of, “I like a lot of things,”
He laughs, but tries to get an answer, a narrowed scope of what he should suggest, “Any allergies?”
“No beef, no peanuts,”
“Seafood?”
“Surprise me.”
Jimin decides to do exactly that when he calls for the waiter with just a bell by the side of the table. On cue, a man walks through the door, the one that guided you here and he stands by Jimin’s side when he motions him over. Jimin orders the serving for two of lobsters, a side of oysters and what seems to be the special on the appettizer platter. He sums it all up with a nice bottle of white wine, in his favor of the year he specifies. When the door opens and closes once more, you’re left to folding your elbows on the table, keeping your eyes glued on him. He seems to take interest to do the same, raising a brow, “Yes?”
“How old are you?” The question slips out before you can stop yourself but Jimin doesn’t seem fazed. He chuckles and shakes his head, fringe brushing over his eyes as he answers, “I’m four years older than you. And you, for someone who’s quite hesitant to enter the boutique yesterday… you have quite the taste in clothes,”
Leaning back in your seat, you cross your legs and put your purse beside you, “My friend’s in the fashion design course. Considering I helped to be his model, this was something I could fit in to borrow,”
He rests his chin in his palm, finding the time to be cheeky, “With a face like yours, I would believe that you’re a model,”
“Dropping compliments now, are we?” You tilt your head at him and he shrugs, sighing, “What can I say? It’s in my nature,”
“Oh really? What do you do for a living?”
“Straight to the point, aren’t you, baby girl?” He coos, much to the pink blushing your cheeks and he chuckles as you clear your throat. “I work at a logistics company that belongs to my father—inherited and now running under my own hands. I juggle with that along with being a model sometimes, if Namjoon’s that desperate,” Squinting your eyes at him out of being playful, you tease, “Aren’t you a little successful?”
He snorts and moves his hands, resting them on his knees as he tries to remain humble, “One of the top young business leaders to enter the scene but it’s nothing, really,”
“Interesting,” You nod slowly, a smile playing on your lips and it’s his turn to flip the coin, eyeing you with certain curiosity that fills his cup, “What about you?”
“What about me…” You repeat his question, finding the easiest way to answer his question as you look up to him, “I’m currently in my final year. Scholarship on one of my two majors. Balancing two part time jobs and one side job while trying not to die halfway of finishing what I need to do to get my education,” Jimin’s mouth opens to say something, but you beat him to it, “Which reminds me,” He falls silent at the zipping of your purse and when you pull out a piece of folded paper, he only unfolds it after you slide it over and get him to read it.
It’s a typed out set of rules he has to agree with and he’s not going to lie, he’s impressed. Even with the whole ‘should I not abide by, any legal action should and would be taken upon’ and continuing on to what could happen and the consequences along with his spot to sign. He reads diligently and that’s when you know he is serious and he’s careful with everything he’s putting his signature on. Initially, there should be no flaw. But when he hands you back the paper, you notice the correction he adds in.
Frowning, you look up to him, “J-Jimin, no. I don’t need—“
“Either that or not at all. You decide,”
Seventh: Personal tutor… and gifts.
“What if I don’t want gifts?”
“What if you do?”
He sees that you’re not budging and that’s when he brings up to—“How about we leave that to be negotiable? The tutor thing, I agree.”
Biting his bait, you nod, taking out a pen to sign your name down, “Fine.”
Jimin does the same, with a smile and a fountain pen, “Great.”
Then there’s that—it’s done.
Well, and dinner is served.
//
Once full and sweetly taken in the dessert Jimin calls for after knowing your liking for ice cream, that’s when the bottle of wine comes down to nothing, empty as it clinks on the table and Jimin’s looking at you like you’re the first woman he ever saw. You refuse to let go of eye contact, a little hazy with the alcohol infused in your veins but it’s not too much where you miss the hint of arousal pooling in his eyes.
“Shall we head back to my apartment?” His voice is husky as each word grates past his throat and whether it’s him making you feel hot and bothered right now or the wine, you don’t know. You don’t care. “Yes, god, yes.”
//
During the ride back to his place, he does the little things that make your heart race even if you think it wouldn’t. He has a hand on your thigh, soft and gentle as he rubs his palm over the silky material of your dress. The low rumbling from the radio does nothing to calm your erratic heartbeat but when Jimin ever so casually spares you a glance every now and then, it seems to have an effect on you to calm down. He smiles at you and if that wasn’t enough to set your heart to a flight mode straight to the sky, you don’t know what is.
You hadn’t realize you’ve reached the destination until Jimin makes a move to give you a squeeze with the remaining hand on you. Flinching, you turn your cheek to come eye to eye with him. Since when did he lean in so close? His breath hitches but he doesn’t make a move. Instead, he gives a nudge with a light line over the tip of your nose with his own, his voice coming out in a soft whisper of air, “We’re here,”
Gulping, you regain composure and place your hand on his, giving it a nudge to have his palm slipping away and he catches the hint of skin that shows as the hem of your dress slides up. He’s certain he knows what you’re doing to him when you sway your hips with an extra twist as you stand up. His brows perk up but before he can savour the tinge of tease you’re seasoning him with, he gets a grip on himself, scoffing a laugh as he watches you get out from the car with minimal effort; standing in heels before you toss your hair over your shoulder as you look over it with a cheeky grin, as well as making his heart thrash from left to right with hard beats.
He’s following your cue to get out and he wraps his hand in yours naturally that it makes your head spin, dizzy from how tonight is filled with circles connecting one another to complete perfection. It’s more than you can ever ask for and for a brief moment, walking with him into the building with his smile curved up to please, you almost forget the initial reason why you’re here. But you can pretend for a while, right?
To be frank, you were rather nervous. Despite guidance from Taehyung (a hint of sass from Jungkook) and the preparations taken with the rules sealed down, it was hard to keep calm. Sure, you’ve had sex before. Getting paid and offering your body in return after? That was something new. Still, you keep to your youth and your will to show him you’re one hell of a surprise to begin with. And it seems like he’s on the same page without words when the both of you step into the confinement of his apartment.
From the dark walls with the pure white leather sofas lined up, your jaw drops. The chandelier hangs beautiful in the middle, dazzling lights twinkling as the moonlight glistens around the diamond carvings. The choice of white tiles is perfect with the slick, black marble tables of his choice—a square coffee table directly below said chandelier, lightbulbs hanging through the column of the corridor down to where you exactly think it leads to.
You had braced yourself for his place to look expensive, extravagant even but not to this extent as the splashes of gold compliments the black almost every corner you turn to, which is pretty much really. Jimin lets out a soft chuckle as he stares at your reaction. After putting your heels aside and closing the door, he thought you would’ve gotten used to it. But as he stands beside you, mischief eyes and a smirk, not yet, as it seems.
“I’ll take it as you like it?” He muses, velvet voice singing into your ears and it sends chills down to your spine, keeping you upright as you turn to look at him, “Please excuse my language but holy fuck this place is gorgeous,” You’re back to being in awe, much to Jimin’s laugh that echoes and bounces off the walls, into your ears that you repeat once more as your fingertips brush over the cold stone of a beautifully sculpted dragon beside you, “Fucking amazing…”
Jimin gives you a couple more seconds before he decides it’s time for you to have the stars in your eyes for something else rather than his furnishing and the interior of his apartment. He silently steps behind you, taking you by surprise when his arm is strong against your waist, yet with a certain delicacy that offers you a leeway to take charge. His fingers strum up to your hip, his other casually slipped into his pocket as he murmurs into your ear, “Let’s not get carried away now, shall we?”
You feel his chest tightening when you snicker, but he’s relaxing in an instant when you lean back, making sure the curve your back and all the way down touches somewhere Jimin’s confined for far too long since dinner. He gasps as you press yourself to him, voice breathy as you look over your shoulder, spelling them out on his lips and Jimin only wonders if he’s ever felt this hot and heavy before during his youthful years, “Bedroom.”
“Fuck me,” Jimin grunts, unable to resist the urge to twist you around, pressing his lips to yours with such urgency it’s making your stomach churn, toes curling with excitement. His arm remains against the lower of your back, right above your waist to lever you down as he parts his lips and drawls his tongue out on the seam of your lips. He feels your grin before you grant him permission to kiss you deeper and with the leg that trails up his ankle, over his calf, up to his thigh as your legs hug him closer, he stutters and his teeth clicks with yours. Chuckling, you sling your arms around his neck, tugging his collar down, revealing enough so you can attach your lips to his skin. He gasps, an arm keeping you near, his other hand raking through your hair as you start to suck and nibble on his flesh; the mix of purple and red threatening to form as you murmur in between, “C’mon, handsome. This is your apartment,”
Growling, Jimin gives a tug on your hair enough to make your stomach clench. A mewl drawn from your lips as he pins you with eyes filled with lust and need you can’t resist. “Jump,” He orders, hands already flicking your dress up, enough for your legs to move freely. His arms come around to steady you as you do as you’re told. Legs wrapped around his figure, steady hands balancing you carefully as if you’re a fine piece of china he can’t bear to break, he’s the one trying not to break as he makes his way to his bedroom. For a moment, he goes blank and forgets how to coordinate his body when you’re doing things that makes his head suffocate in the haze of pleasure. Your tongue licks a stripe on the skin of his neck, hips rutting in his that gets him to stop walking. The slam against the cement of the wall has you whimpering, despite the material of the dress softening the impact, the exposed part of your back regrets being out in the open.
“Keep doing that and we’re going to play dirty, baby girl,” He grits past his teeth, hot and heavy breath after breath and his half-lidded eyes drives you insane. Much similar to your bruised lips and teary eyes from the pleasure, yet, fearless like your age as you lean forward to coax him out with your lips on his. He groans, pulling you off the wall, resuming his pace towards his bedroom and he signals the arrival when a door clicks shut behind the you.
Again, if he had assumed this was going down the way he wanted like in the movies, he had another thing coming.
As he settles down on the bed, seated, your hips encasing his the way it should be, his eyes snap open as your lips detach from his and you’re on your feet. His hands move faster than his mind, grasping onto your hips, “H-Hey—“
“I’m not going anywhere,” You assure him, in a voice that’s thick as honey, smothering down his lips and over his jaw before he looks at you with a panting chest. Easing your hands on his shoulders, you give him a short massage to get him to relax, in which he does when his breathing regulates and his eyes are dark as the night as he stares at your every move. When you have him where you want him, which is now, beneath you and staring up to you for mercy, it’s where it starts; the point of beginning and there’s no going back.
One of your hand trails up to his black locks, running your fingers through them and the other snaking down to his chest; voice of pure sin as it slithers into Jimin’s ears, spelling out the meaning of eurphoria with light, taunting touches.
“So, do you remember what the rules are or am I going to have to repeat them for you… Jiminie?”
He gapes at you taking charge, daring to call him with a nickname out of nowhere despite him being older and just getting comfortable. Either way, he doesn’t seem to mind, legs propping open wider, head tipped up to match yours lingering down as he voices out what he thinks. “I believe I’ve got everything in check…” His hands trail up to your bottom, gripping onto your cheeks firmly as he smirks at your moan, head falling back. “…but a reminder couldn’t hurt,”
Oh, it’s going to hurt. You smirk, keeping your thoughts discrete with your plan as you’re quick to reincorporate with his gameplay. Balancing one hand on his shoulder, you reach back for one of his, drawing it up to reach the zipper of your dress. His breath hitches as you make him drag it down in a tantalizing pace, yet, your voice filling in the spaces between when it’s starting to get quiet. That’s the last thing that’s going to happen tonight.
“First off,” Jimin reaches the end as the words roll off your tongue and he can’t help but stare as you force his hands to follow yours, peeling the clothing off starting with the straps from your shoulders. You hadn’t notice how cold his fingertips are but they’re easily heating up when they graze over your skin, scraped off like wildfire when the lines slide off and they hang around your waist, revealing the lacy lingerie you had put on for him. He’s shameless as he stares at what you have to offer; white wrapped around the crevices and Jimin licks his lips in anticipation. He’s about to touch but just as he does, your hand grabs his chin, directing them up to your eyes as your voice is apprehensive, his dick kicking at the bass of your tone, “You fuck me and only me,”
He resumes what he has in mind, taking over briefly as he drifts his hand down, squeezing your breasts generously and it hikes up a whine of his name. “Second,” He rasps, swallowing any doubts and he’s swift with his clothes, completely removing his dress shirt; unbuttoning one and pulling it off his head when he’s gotten that out of the way. He takes pride in his body, smirking at the way your hands nimbly brush over the expanse of his chest, down to his abdomen and then to the line of his jeans. When your eyes wander a bit too far where he want you to, it’s his turn to cup your chin, nudging it back up as he lines his eyes straight to yours with a look so intense, you feel your knees buckling, “You fuck me and only me,”
The feeling is mutual when you’re nodding, dropping to your knees and guiding him to get his jeans out of the way. When he’s flicked his belt open, he straps it off and tosses it to the side, the clink hitting the floor reminding you of what’s left undone that you continue speaking. “Third,” You rise up to your feet when he shimmies his jeans off, with your guide to tug them off and to the side where it’s out of your reach. You’re about to finish your sentence but he decides to stand, maneuvering you around to push you down onto the bed and you’re having quite the view as he drags his underwear down and off, his hard length smacked to his stomach almost instantaneously after. He’s thick and with a length you know you’ll enjoy, the licking of your lips has him chuckling as he strokes your cheek with his hand, gazing into your eyes lovingly as if he’s not bare and hard for you, “You were saying?”
“G-Getting tested. Together,” Your words are barely audible but he catches the words as he hums, stalking off to the drawers and pulling out what you assume is a condom. When he returns, he drops the packet at the sight of you with your lingerie in your hands, following where the condom lies when your fingers release the lacy material. He gapes, eyes widening at your bare body glowed with the moonlight. Your eyes point at the shiny silver packet on the floor and he picks it up hastily, stumbling back to you and tackling down on the bed with his lips desperate to kiss you.
He moans when you rake your nails down his back, his lips kissing you everywhere possible when he travels down your body, worshipping almost every part as he goes. He stops at the spot where you want him but he doesn’t give it to you until you continue speaking, “Fourth,” Your breath almost gets stuck in your throat when he hums, sliding a finger into your wet heat and you’re going delirious. Jimin seems to adore the way your back arches, voice hoarse and your hand coming down to his head for support, “F-Fuck, Jimin—four…“ Your voice trails of a bit, out of track before you gain some senses to continue speaking.
“Fourth,” You repeat, just as he’s adding another finger, pumping in with ease and you cry out when his fingers glide in with minimal effort. He rises up to your body, fingers hooked inside of you as he kisses your cheek, his other hand pinning you down by the waist as he continues to prep you, sliding his fingers in and out as he murmurs, “Go on, I’m listening,”
You clutch onto his wrist, forbidding his hand from continuing just to get out in a rushed breath, past your heavily blushing cheeks and sweaty skin, “Aftercare is essential,”
“Of course,” His words are promising, actions even more when your grip loosens and he shoves in three fingers to stretch you nicely, voice pitching up through the cry of his name as you grab onto his shoulders. He circles an arm around your waist to hold you there, his fingers never stopping to get you wetter and his movements are languid, pace kicking up in speed to have you whining in his neck, thighs trembling. He slows down to let you breathe, your chest expanding as he leans to press his forehead on yours to say, “Fifth—kinks are talked of before proceeding. Consent is needed,”
Mustering a cracked okay past your sore throat, you kiss him and he gladly obliges, removing his fingers and you feel him searching around your lower region with moist fingers. You’re about to question him, or in this case, maybe state out another rule but then he touches you right there and your body surges through with pleasure. He grins when he manages to find your clit, using two fingers, the lubrication of your arousal to press tight circles and it’s making your jaw grow slack, “J-Jimin!”
“Sixth,” He ignores your pleas, the desperate clutching on his shoulders as he gets you to speak, “What’s the sixth one, baby girl?”
Your eyes clench shut when he rests his thumb on your clit, three fingers used earlier to dive in past your folds and you’re in the verge of tears as you choke on your own voice. He shows you a bit of mercy, easing his thumb movements to slow rubs and his fingers stilling from inside, allowing you to think straight. Past your blinked tears and stained cheeks, you look up to him to murmur, “A-Any day is fine, except—“
“Thursdays,” He finishes for you, maybe to showcase that he truly cares and listens but you don’t question too much on it, until he adds in, “Double shifts, I know,”
In the midst of heavy breathing and reddened skin, you manage to smile at him, the same time he does to you as if his fingers isn’t in the middle of fucking you ready, “You remember,”
His brows does that thing—raising a little out of cockiness, remaining the humble side of him when he doesn’t overdo it. He reminds you of the current situation and that’s when your hands fall to grasp onto the sheets instead (whatever this is made of, you’ll apologize for being too rough on it later). His thumb harshly digs into your clit and his fingers curl where his fingertips brush upon a spot that has your voice ragged, in contrast to his smoothly filling your ears, “I take this very seriously, don’t you know that?” He puts emphasis as he gives you thrusts with the flick of his wrists.
“Oh God,” Your hand snatches onto his, away from your folds as you look up to him, “I do know I’m gonna come if you keep doing that,”
“And what’s wrong with that?” He cocks an eyebrow, only to have it falter when you smirk because he’s not the only one with confidence to dirty talk, “Wouldn’t you want me to with your cock?”
“Fucking—“Jimin doesn’t even finish his sentence, moving around to grab onto the condom where he rips the packet apart without hesitation, the foil coming off and the latex rolling on as you taunt him by dragging your fingers on his thighs, which they flex under your touch and you gasp. He turns back to you with a gaze so lustful, your lungs contract at the lack of air, mouth agape as you grab his neck and lure him down to kiss you, supply the air you need to breathe. He steadies himself with a grip on the headboard, his other lining himself up and just as he slides in, he presses his palm down on your stomach the same time you press your lips up to his.
Moans are exchanged, tongues mingle with one another as your hands slide up his thighs to his waist, holding him there as he reaches all the way in, deep in you, lips no different as he kisses you fervently. Your hands move back up, one resting on the spot on his shoulder, the other raking up through his hair and then tugging him back so you can speak, “Seven,” You exhale deeply, trying to adjust to his size, making it seem like him being balls deep in you isn’t anything sinful at all as you try to get the words out right. His eyes widen, dilating with the need to listen when this isn’t part of the rules.
“No gifts. I just want a personal tutor,”
His hold on the headboard releases, so he has a hand to brush the hair away from your face, his hovering above yours as he says, “We didn’t exactly agree on that. What if I want to get you a tutor and buy you gifts?”
“Doesn’t work that way, old man,” You grunt, legs wrapped around his figure, using the heel of your foot to knead into his bottom to get him growling, “I’m only four years older,”
“Still older,” You poke your tongue past your lips, that like a switch completely loses humor when he tests what he’s up for with the rolling of his hips, a little reminder that he’s in you. You whimper when he pulls out, clenching around nothing but air until he slides back in, grasping onto your chin and tilting it down so he can kiss you again. Again and again as he thrusts harder and faster, to the point where you’re about to forget everything and anything, tossed into the oblivion except for the letters of his name when they fall out from your lips like a symphony.
He holds down your wrists by the sides of your head and that slowly transitions to his hands slipping into yours, fingers coming between as you rock your body up to his, meeting each thrust halfway that drags Jimin’s jaw down to moan your name into the air clouded with sex and heat. You can tell past your half-opened eyes when he pulls away, thumping his forehead on yours, his pace relentless as he chases for your orgasm, that he wants to speak. But when you’re clenching your walls down on him, moaning his name in a voice that cracks his train of thought, he’s losing it.
But he’ll make sure you’re losing it first.
His hands pry away from yours, sweat trickling down your temples and he wipes them away before he glides his hand down between your bodies. You’re holding onto him, hands clutched onto his shoulders that escalates to nails down his back then arms around his neck as he reaches for your clit once more. You cry out when he has the nerve to lazily nudge his thumb on your clit, cursing into his shoulder, biting his flesh before you payback with a harsh clench that gets him riled up to the edge.
He picks it up, rough thrusts and rigidly grinding his thumb harder until you feel nothing but his touch, his cock thrusting in and out and him, him, him. “J-Jimin—I’m gonna—oh fuck!” Jimin seems to understand what’s about to happen; the telltales of you coming as your thighs quake, the grip around him contracting and the erratic clenches of your muscles as Jimin fucks you through to pleasure. You spill and coat him with your release and Jimin doesn’t think he’ll ever get a better sight of you thrashing beneath him, moaning his name out and the syllables travel straight to his cock as he pulsates inside of you. He stutters on his thrusts and that’s when you find the strength to flip him over despite how strong he is and from his protest, it snaps into a sharp cry when you sink down on him and get him to lose control.
With a few precise rolling of your hips, he comes with a loud moan when you punctuate your words: come for me, Jiminie, each syllable milking his release until Jimin’s letting out a string of profanities in various versions that has you chuckling as you ride out your highs. His room gathers the sound of heavy breaths and slick movements of skin upon skin that slide with the ease of sweat. Even with that, neither of you move, Jimin growing soft and a mess of residue left on his bed but he doesn’t mind.
He takes his cue to roll over on his bed, slipping out from you as he bends down to kiss you. It brings a smile to your face, lethargically kissing him back as your hands come up to frame his face with such delicacy in contrast to how you were gripping and scratching him a moment ago—and in this case, Jimin likes both. A smile forms as he pulls away, locking eyes with you and it’s hard to keep up but you do when he spares you one more kiss on your lips.
You realize he’s speaking once he gets up from his bed, removing the used condom into the bin and returning with a damp cloth after. Still, he notices how you don’t decipher his words even after he chuckles, so he decides not to speak about it just yet. He gets you clean, warm and purring out of delight. He pulls you to the spot on the bed that’s slightly cleaner and tucks you in his arms after. The blanket comes of your naked bodies and Jimin rests his chin on your shoulder, firm chest pressed up to your back as your limbs tangle together. Your hands slide over his forearms and you look over your shoulder, finally processing his voice as he repeats what he said not too long ago.
“Eight, I’m paying whatever that’s left for your tuition fees,”
Eyes growing into confusion, lips curling to a frown, you lick your lips and turn around in Jimin’s hold, to which he still keeps his arms around you, “J-Jimin, no. No, I can’t accept that—“
“Either that or gifts. Which one would you prefer?” You forget that you’re dealing with someone who’s mighty good in persuasion and that you can’t quite argue with him even if you wanted to. Although he’s given you reasons not to reject, it’s hard. Money doesn’t fall from the sky and you’re certain Jimin’s taken quite a while to gathered up the amount he has now. Doesn’t matter if he has a mountain or a swimming pool filled with checks, you can’t.
“Jimin… I really, really can’t… The tutor was our agreement,”
“So was the gifts,” He pins you with a look, one that you pout at with hands gingerly playing behind his neck, “But the tutor was practical… gifts are not…”
“They are to me,” He speaks up, nudging you closer and planting a tender kiss to your forehead that you can’t differentiate if he did that out of affection or if he wants to make you feel better. Either way, you’re not complaining. “So here’s what. I’ll pay for your fees, limit to getting you gifts once a month and you can pay the tutor on your own. Sound fair?”
Grinning, your eyes curl up to something Jimin thinks is one of the most endearing things ever; the way they disappear when you smile too hard, your arms slipped around him tight as you lean into his shoulder. He gladly welcomes you in and kisses the side of your head. He strokes your hip with his fingers, then smoothening over your skin on your back all over as you take in deep breaths, fanning his neck. He leans back and the last thing he sees before he closes his eyes is the beauty of your smile playing on your lips.
#network bangtan#bts scenarios#bangtan bookclub#jimin scenarios#park jimin#jimin#sugardaddy!jimin#this still makes me happy#after 4 years who would've thought i'd reupload this#i'll edit this later but for now i'll leave this here because my goodness#oh mY
107 notes
·
View notes
Text
In the Bond-Chapter 19
Summary: Lilah often wished she’d never said yes to working with the Gecko brothers—usually while dodging gunfire. At no time was she regretting that decision more than when she’s hanging upside down from the ceiling, staring down a group of hungry culebras and one (1) extremely powerful sun god.
Word Count: ~6,300
Warnings: Smut
A/N: This is an AU of my Story In the Blood, which can be read here. Basically, this fic explores what would have happened if Lilah had met up with Geckos before she met Brasa.
Taglist: @symbiont13
Start from the beginning Previous Chapter Next Chapter
Read on AO3 Masterlist
She’d made the call not really knowing how it was going to go. Lilah had an address, a plane, a packed weekender bag, and not much else. Sitting at the airport bar was the extent of her plan. She tipped back the last of her beer, eyeing the mirror that reflected the entrance.
Kate was early. Lilah checked the digital clock next to the wall of liquor. She’d asked her to be there at one. It was barely twelve thirty. There was something to be said for punctuality, a quality she had found strangely lacking in most criminals—go figure. Lilah signaled for another round, two fingers in the air, her free hand gesturing at the approaching woman.
Dressed in a long sleeved shirt and jeans, her hair tumbling in soft waves around her face, Kate looked barely old enough to even be in the bar. Lilah supposed that was true, though she’d never bothered to ask Kate’s age. She fixed the bartender with a soft, sweet smile and didn’t even get carded.
Sliding onto the stool next to her, Kate rested both arms on the bar top, “He doesn’t know I’m here, by the way.”
There was no need to expound on who Kate meant. Lilah doubted that Seth could have stopped Kate, even if he wanted to. And yet, a small part of her appreciated the discretion. An angry, possibly vengeful, Seth was one variable she didn’t have the energy to contend with on this particular trip. And still, it chafed that he hadn’t reached out. Lilah hadn’t received a single text message or call. It hurt her more than she cared to admit.
Not bothering to spare Kate a glance, Lilah shrugged, “Wouldn’t matter if he did.”
“It might.”
“Doubtful.”
Lilah knew she sounded petulant, but she couldn’t quite make herself care. She sipped at the too expensive beer and leaned lazily back in her seat. Kate fiddled with the bottle, thumb rubbing at the label.
“So, Iceland?”
Smiling, Lilah nodded, “Reykjavik, actually. There’s a huge church there, and the knife is in, like, a reliquary.”
She’d had to look up the definition of reliquary when Brasa told her about it, tablet in hand, finger swiping from one picture to the next. When Lilah had commented that they were lucky it was in a church and not in another private collection, he’d sighed and said he’d rather deal with the private collector. The capital “C”, Church, could be a harrowing enemy.
Lilah disagreed. A church of this size and age was unlikely to have up to date security systems. And, to be fair, a lot of churches were underfunded, which left little to know staff to wander the halls in search of delinquent women looking to pocket ancient relics.
“Uh huh,” Kate drawled, taking a swig, “How do you expect us to get in?”
Lilah shrugged, “I hadn’t gotten quite that far.”
“Uh huh,” then, “How far have you gotten?”
Hands giving a sweep around her, Lilah pronounced, “This is about it.”
“Uh huh.”
With an expression that was nearly a glare, Lilah groaned, “Stop saying that.”
Kate shrugged, “Its just that you usually have a plan. Way before we get to the airport.”
She was right, Lilah usually had a solid plan before they even left for the job, before they even bought the plane tickets or booked the motel. She didn’t like being rushed, but the reality was that they needed to get the job done and get back as fast as humanly possible. For this job, Lilah was willing to wing it just a little.
“I know,” Lilah sighed, taking a deep pull, “This was sort of last minute. There was...an attack.”
She didn’t think it would be wise to hide what had happened from Kate. Context and background information usually sat well with her. Like Lilah, Kate liked to know what, exactly, she was dealing with. And, there was part of her that just needed to tell someone.
Beside her, Kate stiffened, “What kind of attack?”
“Benny tried to open the portal,” Lilah explained, waving away the bartender’s offer of another round. While they waited for the check, she continued, “A lot of the people he was with died. Some of them were injured—horrifically. The knife is all we need to close the portal for good.”
That, and a shit ton of Brasa’s blood. He’d told her over and over again that he’d put in safety measures, that there was nothing to worry about. Lilah was dubious, at best.
Nodding, Kate slipped off the stool and looked at Lilah expectantly, “When’s the flight?”
Lilah glanced again at the clock, “About an hour from now.”
Kate frowned, “We’re not going to get through security in that time. Why didn’t you tell me to be here sooner?”
Smiling coyly, Lilah lifted a shoulder, “Probably because we’re flying private. We’ve got plenty of time.”
Head cocking to the side, Kate regarded her closely, her mouth parted in something near enough to a smile, “I guess you’d better show me your plane.”
Leaning down, Lilah grabbed her weekender and slung it over her shoulder, “Boarding is that way.”
The plane was exactly as she remembered it, right down to the stewardess offering them a glass of champagne for the flight. Lilah settled into the plush seat and sent off a text to Brasa to let him know they were on the tarmac.
When she looked up from her phone, she noticed Kate tossing hers back into her bag, likely doing the same thing.
“So, you do any research on this church?”
Lilah’s head ticked to the side, “A little. Its huge. Big ol’ pipe organ that’s pretty famous.”
Kate sipped her champagne, “You read that off Wikipedia?”
That was exactly what she’d done, right after Brasa spelled out the name for her.
Laughing, Lilah confirmed, “Pretty much.”
“You got a way in?”
“There’s services a couple days a week,” Lilah said, resting her head in her palm, “I figure, we go in with the church crowd, sneak away, hit up the reliquary, walk out with the church crowd.”
Kate blinked, “You said its a big church. Do you know your way around?”
“Javier got me some maps,” then, “I told Brasa we’d have a seventy two hour turnaround.”
Brows coming together, Kate shook her head, “It might not be that simple.”
“You and the boys do it all the time.”
Lilah and the boys had done it many times over.
“Yeah,” Kate shot back, “In banks, in museums, jacking cars. We’re stealing from a church.”
Lilah rolled her eyes, “What’s the difference?”
Her expression closed tightly, and Kate took a beat too long to respond, “Its the church. Its...God.”
Ah. Touchy subject.
Taking a deep breath, Lilah chose her words carefully, “Technically, they stole it first. The knife is Xibalban, it belongs to Brasa’s people. We’re not stealing it. We’re just..playing a bit of Robin Hood.”
Kate glared at her, “You can’t be Robin Hood when you’re sitting on a private jet, Lilah.”
That was fair.
“Point. Then, we’re reverse Indiana Jones-ing it.”
Laughing, Kate shook her head again, “I don’t think that fits, either.”
“Well, we can’t all be Richie with the pop culture references, can we?” Lilah retorted, half amused, half annoyed.
“No,” Kate murmured, “He really does have a connection for everything.”
“Oh, my god, he does,” Lilah agreed, one hand covering her eyes, “The first day I met him, he called me Scully. And then he proceeded to show me that there are, in fact, things that go bump in the night.”
He’d actually flashed his fangs at her, his eyes glowing behind his glasses. Lilah had scrambled back from him, too scared to even scream. It had been Seth that had calmed her down, had told her what they were doing, what their mission was. It had been Seth that set her on the path she was on now.
“That sounds like Richie,” Kate said with a small smile, “He likes to go ahead and rip the band aid off.”
“That’s one way of putting it.”
It had taken about two days before Lilah could bring herself to sit within ten feet of Richie, and even longer before they had a conversation over three sentences long. Once she’d gotten over the initial shock, Lilah had grown to really like Richie. Despite the constant one upping and the long tangential digressions on canon, he could be sweet. He could also rip a person in half. Pros and cons being what they were, Lilah had eventually put him on the (extremely) short list of her friends.
They stopped for fuel in New York, and then they were taking the last leg of the trip. Landing went smoothly, and a car was waiting to take them to the hotel Brasa had booked. It hadn’t occurred to Lilah to ask him to book something low key and under the radar. When they pulled up to a swanky awning with gilt embellishments, she cringed internally.
Lilah appreciated a good hotel like most any other person. When she was on a job, though, it was always better to stay at a highway motel. Less surveillance, and if the police showed up, there were usually more concerned about the drugs in the room three doors down than a single woman drawing as little attention as possible. This was...ostentacious.
“I bet the beds in there are phenomenal,” Kate said as she walked ahead.
As she took in the extravagant lobby, Lilah couldn’t help but agree, but they would pale in comparison to the bed she shared with Brasa. Nothing could or would match those mattresses—which she still hadn’t asked Javier about. She resisted the urge to check her phone for the thousandth time, looking for a message from Brasa. He’d been busy dealing with the wounded, dealing with increasing calls for violence, dealing with all the things that came with governing a growing mass of people. She didn’t want to add to that.
As Kate predicted, the beds were pretty fucking good. Soft as clouds. Silky sheets. Very nice, but empty. Lilah would have slept on a futon to have Brasa here with her. She missed his presence, missed his touch. Since she’d left Jackknife Jed’s, Lilah hadn’t spent more than a few hours without him.
Spoiled. Lilah was fucking spoiled, now.
Shaking herself from her thoughts, Lilah focused on unpacking her pajamas for the night. First thing in the morning, they would scout the church, find their entrance and their exit. Maybe come up with a few back up plans. She was pretty sure that the base plan she’d spouted off on the plane was their best option. But, she liked to have some alternatives.
As she crawled into bed, Lilah reached out and touched the bond. He was tired, she could tell. Gently, she suggested that he sleep. Lilah was met with a wall of stubborn willpower that had her physically rolling her eyes. Turning to her side, she reached up and turned off the bedside light. If he wasn’t going to get some rest, she definitely would.
Lilah slept hard. It was the kind of sleep that could make someone wake up and not know what year it was, the kind of sleep that stole the freshness of the morning. On her back, hands near her face, she blinked up at the ceiling as she tried to get her bearings in the unfamiliar room.
The shower was on, water sloshing.
Kate.
Her bed was warm—hot, even. There was a weight on her legs and hips, hidden by the comforter. She shifted, surprised when the weight moved with her. It continued to move even when she’d settled, enveloping her from belly to knees.
Hands. There were hands trailing up her sides, sliding underneath her pajama top. She sucked in a breath, releasing it forcefully when they cupped her breasts, thumbs circling her nipples. The comforter shifted, rolling in a singular wave upwards until the fabric parted to reveal dark hair and brown skin.
Brasa.
He smiled at her as he climbed her body, his eyes reflecting darkly in the low ambient light of the room. She smiled back, hands resting on his shoulders as he settled over her.
“Hi,” she said lowly.
He echoed her, leaning down to kiss her sternum. His mouth was warm, his hands massaging along her waist and down over her hips. He nuzzled her skin, rubbing his cheek against her neck and collarbone.
Lilah relaxed into the pillows, let him do as he liked. Her fuzzy mind reveled in the feel of him, his tongue tracing patterns ahead of his fingers. He pushed her shirt up and over her breasts, palms cupping them together. When he drew a nipple into his mouth, her body arched up, knees clutching at his sides.
Her thighs rubbed sensuously against bare skin. She bit her lip as she realized that he was very clearly naked, and very clearly aroused.
The shower cut off, drawing her attention. She tensed beneath him, turning her head to look towards the closed bathroom door.
Undeterred, Brasa pulled at her top, trying to get her arms through it. Lilah pushed at his shoulders, jerking her head towards the bathroom.
“Kate is literally going to walk out any second.”
His jaw clenched unhappily, but he let go of her top. Lilah pulled it down over her chest with one hand, the other reaching up to touch his cheek.
“I’ll be home soon.”
Lips pouting, he nodded. In between one blink and the next he was gone, though Lilah was left with the distinct feeling of his mouth pressed firmly to hers.
She was right, though. The door to the bathroom opened and Kate wandered through it, towel drying her hair. Lilah sat up and flicked on the bedside light, rubbing at her eyes.
“I didn’t mean to wake you.”
Lilah waved her off, “I needed to get up, anyways. You take all the hot water?”
Kate smirked, “For the price of these rooms, it should take at least three days to run out of hot water.”
“You can thank your resident sun god for that,” Lilah drawled as she rose from the bed, picking up her clothes for the day from where she’d set them the night before.
“You think he takes tithes?”
There was a strange kind of sarcasm in those words. No bite. Just barely touched with the dark amusement that came with doing the things that they’d had to do in the last year and a half. It peeked out periodically from behind all their lips, cut through tension, acknowledging the oddity that was their lives.
Lilah shrugged, “I can ask him next time we’re in the temple.”
Kate paused from where she was combing through her dark locks, “He has a temple?”
“Yeah,” Lilah answered from the bathroom door, “I mean that literally.”
“Weird.”
“You have no idea.”
After showering and getting ready for the day, they headed out into the city. Lilah managed to Google Translate her way through ordering the pair of them a coffee that they drank while they walked. The church was pretty big. Scoping out the entrances and exits took most of the morning. By the time the noon services started up, Lilah’s legs were demanding a break.
The pews were filled with churchgoers as they took a spot near the back of the sanctuary. Lilah spent about ten minutes distracted by the artwork and the architecture before she realized that Kate was softly crying.
“What’s wrong?”
Sniffing, Kate shook her head, “I haven’t, you know, been in a church in a long time.”
“Oh.”
Lilah was not good with soothing crying people. She looked awkwardly around, grateful that most people were focused on the sermon ahead of them and not the weird American girls behind.
“You know my dad was a preacher, right?”
“I,” Lilah whispered, “Did not know that.”
To be fair, not a one of their crew delved too deeply into each other’s backgrounds. That was the trade off: they worked together as a team to hunt down rogue culebras, might even share a few stories of their more notorious exploits—no digging into old wounds.
“He was.”
“Oh.”
“After my mom died, he kind of...lost God. He drank a lot, and I had to take care of my brother and me.”
“That must have been hard.”
“Yeah,” Kate said, her voice cracking, “And then all of this shit with Richie and Seth started happening. And then Amaru. I thought I’d never feel right in church again.”
“Oh.”
Kate cut her a look, “Stop saying that.”
“Sorry,” Lilah said on reflex. “I don’t know what else to say.”
Shaking her head, Kate lifted a shoulder weakly, “Nothing to say, really.” Then, “I miss it. Miss the ritual of it—praise and worship, sermon, invitation, closing. You know exactly what to expect.”
Ah. Lilah lifted her toes in her winter boots, knowing what Kate meant, and not knowing how best to respond. She sat next to the woman throughout the sermon, not a word of it in English. Then, when the nonverbal cue for prayer sank into the crowd, she tapped Kate’s arm and jerked her head to the side.
“Now?” Kate asked.
Lilah smirked, “Why not?”
While the congregation’s heads were bowed, giving them an opening. while all eyes were closed and no one was looking about, Lilah and Kate disappeared into a back hallway and towards a series of meeting rooms. Lots of unlocked doors. They moved through the halls, ducking into a bathroom when steps sounded a little too close.
Eventually, they found the pastor’s chambers. Lilah was pretty fucking shocked when Kate pulled out Seth’s lock pick set and went to work. Impressed, she leaned against the wall opposite the door, keeping watch while the other woman worked.
It took several tries and one foul oath, but Kate got the door open. They slipped inside, and Lilah tapped her phone to pull up the picture Brasa had sent her. She showed it to Kate, her eyes scanning the shelves.
And there it was. Sitting unceremoniously on a low shelf, holding up a set of biblical commentaries. Lilah paused, thinking that this was deceptively easy. Gilt in gold, the reliquary was formed in Gothic angles and sharp spires. Serving as a stand for the knife, one could be forgiven for almost missing its significance.
With care, Lilah checked it for a pressure switch, then pulled the knife from the stand. As she stood, she held it out for Kate’s inspection.
She looked at it, looked at Lilah, and shrugged, “I guess that’s it.”
“I guess,” Lilah muttered, slipping it into her bag.
They tip toed back into the sanctuary, right as the invitation started. People were walking forward, taking the hands of church elders, making commitments to God. Lilah sat in the pew with her pilfered relic, feeling as if the room had tilted ever so slightly to the left. As soon as was socially acceptable, she rose and headed out towards the street.
On the walk back to the hotel, the sun beginning its descent towards the horizon, Lilah shoved her hands into the pockets of her coat, “You know, when I think of all the jobs we’ve pulled, this one was surprisingly anticlimactic.”
Kate nodded, pushing her hair out of her face, “After the year I’ve had, I could use a little anti-climactic.”
Lilah had to agree. After one too many high intensity situations, the ease of this theft was so very welcome. And strange.
When they reached the hotel, they took advantage of the little restaurant at the back of the building. Lilah ordered a nice wine and a pasta with a heavy cream sauce. Though it smelled amazing, she found that she could only pick at it, full after just a few bites. She wasn’t surprised. The adrenaline of having taken something that didn’t belong to her often suppressed her appetite.
Despite only eating a small portion from her plate, Lilah tipped the wait staff well. The meal was delicious, even if she wasn’t in the mood to eat. No need to take it out on anyone else.
When they returned to their room, Kate flung herself haphazardly on the bed, her boots hanging off the end. She flicked on the TV, saying, “You want to tell me about this knife ritual thing?”
Lilah opened her mouth to speak, and found that she didn’t have words. Brasa had been remarkably reticent to give her details about what they needed to do to close the portal.
“I honestly don’t know,” she answered, finally, “We use the staff, the cup, the knife, and some of Brasa’s blood—that’s as far as I’ve gotten.”
Lifting a brow, Kate regarded her steadily, “No magic incantation?”
Huffing, Lilah rolled her eyes, “I mean, probably. There’s always some sort of magic rhyme to shout into the abyss, right?”
“For sure.”
With Kate momentarily distracted by the television, Lilah pulled her phone out and tapped out a text.
L: Got it.
She set the phone down, intending to get comfortable on the bed. No sooner had she sat down to remove her boots did it vibrate twice, indicating a text. Lilah picked it up, tapping on the screen.
B: Excellent. ETA?
Smirking, Lilah pulled up the keyboard.
L: Tomorrow, late. Midnight, maybe?
His response was almost immediate.
B: You plan to leave in the afternoon?
L: Depends on when Kate wakes up.
There was no immediate answer, and Lilah set the phone aside. She tugged off her boots and socks, leaning back into the pillows.
“Have you noticed,” Kate started, her voice cutting through the noise of the television, “Changes?”
Lilah cast her a look of confusion, her brows coming together.
“Since you and Brasa got together. Like, physically?”
Thinking about it, Lilah pursed her lips, “I don’t think so?”
The sentence came out more like a question because she honestly didn’t really know. With everything that had been going on outside of her, it hadn’t occurred to Lilah to look inwardly.
“I mean,” Kate continued, one hand rotating, her palm pointed towards the ceiling, “Obviously, you know about the immortality.”
Lilah nodded, though the concept had been purposely set aside so that she could deal with the more pressing matters of the bond and her growing relationship. She figured that she had plenty of time to deal with it later.
With a ‘tsk’, Kate reached over and grabbed the remote. She shut off the TV and threw the control down. Then, she scooted over to the edge of the bed and pulled her legs up and underneath her.
“I knew it would be different...after. I knew things would change—more than they already had.”
Lilah nodded. Different was all that Lilah had known for so long that it had made the complete circle all the way around to perfectly normal. Looking into Kate’s face, though, Lilah could tell that their unique circumstances, the odd path of their lives, wasn’t all that the other woman meant.
Kate tucked her hair behind her ear, “I haven’t slept in two weeks.”
Spluttering, Lilah’s brows rose in surprise, one hand covering her mouth.
“I mean,” Kate continued, leaning forward in concern, “not really. Not like I used to.”
Hands up in question, Lilah asked, “What the fuck does that mean?”
Kate sat back, her shoulders dropping, “I,” she stopped and shook her head, “I sleep maybe a few hours a night, wake up, stay awake for a few hours, and then sleep another hour. That’s it.”
Looking around the room, Lilah found herself once again trying to find words of comfort. She was not good at this.
“That must suck.”
Kate, thankfully, laughed, “It does. I tried everything. Sleeping pills, weed, hot baths, I ordered a special tea from the internet. Do not recommend, by the way.”
Mouth in half a smile, Lilah rolled her neck, “I’ll keep that in mind.”
“And that’s not all of it,” Kate went on, “I don’t get hungry, not really. I eat. I can eat. But, if I don’t think about it, I won’t.” She fixed Lilah with a hopeful look, “Is it like that with you?”
It took Lilah a moment to think of her answer, “No.”
All the air went out of Kate. She picked at the bedspread, “Oh.”
“Its still new,” Lilah said quickly, unable to take Kate’s down expression. “I’m just now learning how to use the bond.” Her eyes turned to the ceiling, “For the first, like, six months I didn’t even acknowledge that it existed, let alone participate.”
Kate huffed, “Oh, Richie wasn’t about to let that happen. He said he’d spent enough time knowing and not acting.”
Lilah frowned, “What does that mean?”
Expression indulgent, Kate said, “They know it immediately. They know it.”
Brasa had known, had said as much in the first minute of conversation. Lilah had been too intent on getting away to ask questions. Now, she wished she had. The book on bonds had been helpful for troubleshooting and basic knowledge. The way in which bonds worked, how they changed the bonded, was vague, at best.
“Does…” Kate trailed off, her eyes looking away, pink tinting her cheeks, “Does he, you know, feed you?”
She blinked, “I mean, yeah. Usually after he takes it from me.”
Nodding, Kate’s gaze seemed to lose focus, “For the first two months, Richie would insist on it, every day. He said that it would make me stronger.”
“Brasa said that same thing.”
Another nod, “I do feel stronger. There are mornings where I wake up and I feel like I could run a hundred miles.”
Lilah barked out a laugh, “Maybe I need to insist a bit. Get me some of that energy. With everything that has been going on, I’m constantly tired.”
The treaty, the bond, Seth, Benny, learning a her new role, the injured, all of it was building up into one big ball of awful. Lilah had to constantly remind herself that, as stressed as she was, her bondmate was likely infinitely more frustrated and exhausted. The thought made her reach out for him. He felt stable, but his side of the bond was pulled somewhat shut. Open enough that she could tell he was physically well, but closed to any detail as to his feelings. Lilah pulled back as gently as she could, not wanting to disturb his privacy.
They watched a few more episodes of really bad reality television while Lilah double checked their flight itinerary. She’d gotten a confirmation email to her inbox for a car service after lunch. Everything just sort of fell right into place. They’d gotten what they’d come there for, their exit was prepped, all they had to do was pack up and get in the car.
Lilah stared at the ceiling, half listening to the reunion episode of the show. Over the din of yelling voices and accusations, she began to feel...a little bit useless. The planning, the coordinating, the logistics of every job she’d ever done had been something she’d taken care of personally. In this case, all she’d had to manage was getting a partner that, in the end of it all, the job hadn’t required. And then, everything had gone so god damned smooth that is made Lilah suspicious.
Her thoughts were interrupted by Kate pushing from the bed and tugging on her boots, “I’m going to go to the evening service. You want to come?”
Eyes narrow, Lilah asked, “To the church we just robbed?”
“Yeah.”
“No thanks.”
Kate shrugged and grabbed her coat, slipping the hotel key into her back pocket, “I’ll be back in a few hours.”
“Have fun,” Lilah deadpanned, shaking her head.
She watched as Kate gave her a little wave and headed out, the door closing softly behind her. The room settled into relative silence, only the drone of the TV to keep her company. Rubbing at her eyes, Lilah rolled from the bed and grabbed her pajamas.
The shower was perfunctory, going through the motions to get the grime of the day off her skin. She toweled off and pulled on her clothes. Dirty laundry in hand, Lilah stepped out of the steam filled bathroom. She tossed her used clothes into her bag and stood near her bed, staring at nothing.
Annoyed with the newest episode of the show, Lilah grabbed the remote from Kate’s bed and shut it off, leaving the room completely silent. She continued to stand there, looking at nothing. Lilah stood there long enough for the heat to kick on, startling her. She glared at it and rolled her eyes, catching her reflection in the mirror.
There were smudges from the last of the day’s makeup underneath her eyes, but the shadows weren’t there. She leaned in, noting that the usual breakout along her chin had cleared up, the skin smooth. The whites of her eyes were stark and clear against her irises. Maybe there had been changes. Maybe Lilah had been too distracted to notice.
Her hair was still a bit thin along her temples, the permanent line between her brows still there from near constant frowning at a computer screen. The scar from when she’d fallen and cracked her chin open in that bathtub at age five remained, a thin line just beneath her bottom lip.
Maybe not too many changes.
The air in the room rippled. Gasping, Lilah braced herself with her hands out. Stillness. Feeling the air stutter in and out of her lungs, she glanced around, looking for danger. When nothing but the sound of the heater kicking off met her expectant gaze, she dropped her hands.
Another ripple, this time with the accompanying scent of coffee and caramel.
“Brasa?” she called out to the empty room.
Ripple.
“I am here, querida.”
Lilah spun in place, an aborted shout stuck to the back of her throat. She clocked the broad shoulders, the warm brown eyes, and sighed.
“I think I’ve asked you not to scare me like that.”
Ticking his head to the side, he offered her an unrepentant smile, “But then I wouldn’t get to hear your heart beat so beautifully in excitement.”
“There are other ways to achieve that, you know,” she said ruefully, one hand coming to rest where her heart was, indeed, beating a pounding rhythm.
Brows quirking, Brasa gathered her to his body, arms folding around her waist, “You have a point.”
“Of course I do,” she retorted, rising on her toes to kiss him briefly, “What brings you here?”
He pressed his forehead into the skin of her neck, breathing deep, “I missed you.”
Arms draped over his shoulders, Lilah laughed softly, “Its only been a day. We’ve been apart for much longer.”
Letting out a long breath, Brasa said, “I disliked it then as much then as I do now.”
Lilah tightened her grip on him, swaying a bit, “I’ll be home tomorrow.”
“Too long,” he groused with a shake of his head.
She pulled back, cupping his jaw with both hands, “Its faster than I anticipated. I could be gone another whole day.”
The hands on the small of her back clenched, and Lilah heard the fabric of her t shirt tear. Gasping in shock, she twisted her body and found that he ripped the shirt up to about the middle of her back.
Saying his name in censure, Lilah stepped back, holding the shirt away from her body and assessing the damage in the mirror. There was no saving that shirt, not without a sewing machine that she not only didn’t have, but definitely didn’t know how to use.
Firm hands turned her so that he could look at it, and Lilah caught the banked pride in his expression as he tugged, “Oops.”
“Oops?” Her voice was high and incredulous, “That’s all you have to say? ‘Oops’?”
He shrugged, his palms following the line of her spine until the fabric bunched around his wrists, “Perhaps it is an improvement.” When she fixed him with a doubtful look, he went on, “Perhaps I can make it up to you.”
Her brows lifted in interest, but she said nothing. He took that as a ‘yes’, his hands slowly rounding her waist to rest below her breasts. Watching in the mirror as his hands encircled them, gently rolling her nipples between his thumbs and forefingers.
Humming against her skin, Brasa played with her lazily, the distinct lack of urgency lulling her into a low simmering arousal. Lilah leaned into him, her hands resting on the dresser to keep her balance. In the mirror, her reflection undulated. The long line of her throat exposed as she tipped her head back against his shoulder.
“Beautiful,” he groaned, teeth catching her ear.
Lilah focused on his face in the mirror, watched as his eyes devoured her image. His hand rucked up her shirt, squeezing her breasts together, their touch no longer teasing.
Mouth laying sloppy kisses wherever he could reach, Brasa leaned his weight into her. He pinned her to the dresser, shifting her to the side when one of the pulls dug into her belly. Lilah arched back, catching his mouth, the angle too acute for her to get anything more than the barest of kisses.
She whined, tugging on his arms so that he would let her turn around. He held her still, and she could feel the shape his mouth against her skin, spreading into a wide smile.
“Did you need something?”
Lilah grit her teeth against the honey of his words, the way they melted over her, the cajoling tone peeking out from underneath. After so long where he’d given in to her easily, after he’d offered no quarter in the building of her pleasure, the teasing chafed.
She writhed, shimmying her hips against the erection behind her, trying to get him to break. He took it, took every bit of her want, absorbing it so that she only got the tiniest ricochet in return. It left her wanting with such force that she could keep the needy moans inside.
It might have been his name she was chanting, might also have any one of the nonsense syllables that he had been known to pull out of her. All Lilah knew was that her core was clenching down on nothing when it could be fluttering around his hands, or better yet his cock.
Brasa repeated his question, his voice dropping down into his chest so that it came out in a harsh rasp. Lilah nodded, biting her lip. Through the bond, she felt his pleasure, felt how satisfied he was to watch her fall apart in his hands.
Teasing fingertips traced the waistband of her shorts, dipping just below, “Is this it?”
Again, she nodded, her eyes squeezing shut as he pushed down past the elastic to rest all four fingers against her mound. She widened her stance and rocked forward into them, getting a little bit of needed friction.
“Fucking wet,” he groaned, one arm wrapping around her middle and pulling her up and into his body, “You’re ready for me?”
For the third time, she nodded, relieved when he pulled down her shorts just below the crease of her ass, his other hand pressing her forward so that she was leaned over the top of the dresser. She heard the sound of shifting fabric, and then he was pressed against her opening.
With the taut band of her shorts cutting into the meat of her thighs, Lilah could only drop her forehead to the dresser as he pushed steadily forward. He was careful with the initial thrust, hands massaging.
“Good?” she heard from over the pounding of her ears.
Rising, Lilah rotated her hips, seating him deeper and relishing his sharp inhale, “Very good.”
One hand grabbed her chin, turning her head so that he could kiss her, his tongue dipping inside. He kissed her like that as he pumped slowly inside, taking up once more his unhurried pace. Lilah swallowed around a dry throat, her hands closing into little fists.
“More,” she cried out, hoping to coax him into a faster, harder pace.
He chuckled. And though his pace remained the same, the intensity kicked up a notch. He buried his cock inside her all the way each time, the intermittent sound of skin slapping against skin overtaking the silence of the room. Slow. Deep. Unhurried. Brasa fucked her as if he had all the time in the world, as if he wasn’t at all concerned about coming.
It built inside her in intervals that were so small Lilah barely noticed them until it was too late, until her pussy was contracting around him in dizzy pleasure. Brasa snarled, his hips grinding against her ass, one hand holding her steady as he arched over her body.
Lilah relaxed her upper body against the dresser, blinking slowly as Brasa grabbed her hips and pulled them back hard. The air was punched from her as he did it again. And again. He got another five or six good thrusts in before he hissed and she felt him pulse.
When it was over, Brasa pulled out and adjusted her short before doing the same with his down pants. He wrapped his arms around her and walked her back to the bed. Lilah went, reaching back to ruffled his curls.
She hummed as he helped her to lay down, his big body molding to her side, “That was nice.”
He pet her hair, “I’ll do it again when you get back.”
“Promise?”
10 notes
·
View notes
Text
I just watched the Elf episode of The Holiday Movies That Made Us on Netflix after remembering that I started writing an Elf supercorp AU for Christmas in 2018 (don’t judge me) and found my old notes app first draft so Merry Christmas and Happy Hanukkah! MAYBE I’ll finish it this year... (she said as a lying liar who lies.)
*The fic in which Kara’s pod crash landed at the North Pole, 13 years later her adopted elf mother Eliza and her elf sister Alex tell her about her cousin Kal now Clark Kent and she decides to go to Metropolis to meet the only other person like her. She meets Lena “naughty list” Luthor. And Clark and Lois are Jewish.
🔥🎄🎄🎄🧝♀️🤦🏻♀️
Some elves are born to work in Santa’s workshop. Kara Zor-El, however, was not born an elf or even from this earth for that matter.
When her pod crash landed at the North Pole thirteen years ago, she had no memory of a lost planet, no recollection of a cousin she was sent to protect who had already grown up to become Superman, and no idea how to be an alien living with elves. Santa was perturbed as to what to do with a skittish teenaged alien who cringed at the sound of tiny hammers building toys.
The elf doctor, Eliza Danvers, having a daughter around Kara’s age, naturally stepped in to help raise her, teach her elf culture, and attempt to control her powers. There were several mishaps of course.
Kara’s eyes lit up the first time she saw a Christmas tree. Literally. The green pine was burned to a crisp with her heat vision. But she quickly uprooted another tree from outside the elf village and helped Alex redecorate the new tree. And spent several hours carefully placing the new lights and ornaments, after breaking several of the glowing strings of light and the ornate red and blue colored bulbs. When Alex had trouble reaching the top of the tree, Kara swooped her up under her arms to help her place the star on the tree. And she managed to only break one of Alex’s ribs in the process.
After years of being at the North Pole, Kara was actually a wonderful toy maker once she learned to control her strength. When other elves managed to meet their five hundred toy quotas, Kara would have five thousand toys completed. The workshop wouldn’t need any teddy bears for another century, but finding storage for all of the toys Kara built was becoming difficult.
So from there, Kara’s primary job became Elf Master of Letters. She spends several hours each day answering letters for Santa as Santa’s tight schedule and the millions of letters he received each year became too much for the old bearded man. And although she always needed a little proofreading as the different Earth languages were sometimes difficult and much different than her native alien tongue, she enjoyed writing and speaking to children all over the world, bringing them the joy of Christmas.
Alex read over the letter Kara had just finished typing. Her younger but much bigger sister looked to her with a twinkle in her eyes and waited patiently. When Kara saw the red ink marked all over Kara’s letter she cooed and gasped, “That red is so pretty Alex. I know Raymond in Denver will love it! He told me red was his favorite color. I wanted to tell him that’s Santa’s favorite color too! But I didn’t want to give all of the big man’s secrets away, you know?”
Alex sighed and rested her hand on her sister’s shoulder, “Kara, these are your typos. Look here.”
Alex pointed to the last line, “Beleiving isn’t singing. Singing is beleiving.”
“He asked if he could see what the North Pole looks like. I set him straight. Believing isn’t singing. Singing is believing. That was in that one Santa Claus movie you had me watch, which I know isn’t historically accurate or based on true events, but I still,”
“Kara, remember your English spellings. I before e except after c? And it’s seeing not singing.
“Except in some cases like neighbor and weigh. And I just thought! It’s a play on words because ‘the best way to spread Christmas cheer, is singing loud for all to hear!’”
Alex smiled at her then, “You’ll get the hang of it.“
“Yeah, okay so I can’t spell that great, but the writing was good right?” Kara looked hopeful.
Alex shoved her shoulder, “You know you have more Christmas spirit than any other elf. Now come on and fix these typos, so we can go drink hot chocolate with Mom.”
That night when Kara had gone to bed, belly full of twelve drumsticks, eleven pickled peppers, ten cups of hot chocolate, nine hams glazed, eight glasses of milk, seven strudel pastries, six white chocolate goose eggs, five onion rings, four carrot cakes, three French bagels, two turtle chocolates, and a chocolate pecan pie, she curled up on her elf sized bed. Eliza had knit a fourth blanket onto her elf quilt the previous month when her toes started peeking out at the bottom. Alex had tucked her in tonight, making certain she was snug as a bug in a rug in the tiny bed, wishing sweet dreams of sugarplums dancing in her head.
She was content, happy, home and tomorrow would be her thirteenth birthday at the North Pole. What more could her life possibly be, what could be more rewarding than being apart of the magic that brought Christmas to children all over the world? And still Kara thought of that world and all of the little lights that wrote those letters to Santa, the gleaming eyes of all who opened presents on Christmas morning, and she wondered if any of them were like her. If they could hear the faintest sounds of snow falling or reach up and touch the clouds. If they could roast chestnuts with their eyes or see through all those pretty presents wrapped neatly under the tree. If the people of this world could believe that Santa would come every year to bring them gifts, then she had to believe that somewhere out there, there was someone else who was just like her.
That night Kara dreamed of a beautiful red sunset and little baby boy named Kal. It all felt so real, seeing him jet across the sky in a similar pod to the one Kara had found in an abandoned workshop years ago, knowing it must have been how she found her home. She wrote a letter to Santa as soon as she woke up, asking him to find a home for Kal for Christmas.
_____
Kara had been in trouble a bit, always an accident, because really how was it her fault if Blitzen couldn’t keep up with her? He could have flown faster if he hadn’t eaten all of that maple syrup and maybe then he wouldn’t have been left behind! She carried him back the whole way anyway! After she found him three days later in the Swiss Alps.
But this time when she was called to Santa’s office and Eliza and Alex sat patiently waiting for the charges from the big boss, Kara didn’t know why she was here at all, or rather, now she was on the floor with wood debris around her rear because the little chair was a lot lower than she had anticipated. That was the tenth one this month.
Santa cleared his throat and rubbed his white bearded chin, “I read your letter, and I spoke to your mom and sister. I think they have something they’d like to tell you.”
Kara widened her eyes and looked to her mom, “Are we going to adopt Kal? Like you adopted me? Please say we can Eliza. I promise I’ll teach him myself how to control his powers, and I can build him a crib myself. I’ll even chop down the tree for the wood and we can,”
Eliza cupped Kara’s face and kissed her forehead, a tear prickling at the corner of her eye, “Do you remember Kal now sweetie? Do you remember Krypton?”
Kara blew out her breath in bewilderment, “Krypton? What’s that? Is that where I’m from? Is it in Canada? I’ve always felt I was probably a Canadian because I don’t get cold at the North Pole, and I make the best maple syrup every year during the elf Christmas party.”
Santa nodded, “Its true, you really do.”
Alex gasped, “you know you’re not an elf?”
Kara chewed at her fingernails, “Well I’m not, am I? I’m bigger than all of you and I can lift a Christmas tree over my head like it’s mistletoe and fly with reindeer and all sorts of stuff. I’ve known for awhile I’m not from here, but this is still my home. You two are still my family.”
Alex held back all her unshed tears, “But you have other family out there, and we can’t keep you from knowing about Kal anymore.”
So that day Kara cried when Santa showed her the picture of Kal, or Clark Kent as he was called on Earth, glasses askew and a beautiful woman on his arm. Clark without the glasses bearing what she was told was her family crest, the House of El, taking up the mantle of Earth’s greatest hero, Superman. She had crafted thousands of figurines of her only living blood relative, and yet she hadn’t the faintest idea that she had been sent to protect him for all of these years. He had grown up, not alone at least. He was raised in Kansas on a farm, and now he lived in Metropolis with his wife Lois Lane and their son Jonathan Kent.
“Does he even know I exist?”
_____
Kara changed into her best elf attire and her bright red boots that Eliza had made her for Christmas, letting her open one present before she left. Today was the day that she would fly to Metropolis and meet her cousin for the first time. She couldn’t wait, but the dread at leaving Alex and Eliza settled deep in the pit of her stomach. And all of the letters to Santa she still wanted to respond to sat neatly at her desk in her room.
She was leaving behind her entire life at the North Pole. She told herself she wasn’t losing her home, but it still felt like it. Santa’s workshop, Eliza and Alex, it was all she had ever known or could remember. Would it be the same when she came back? Would her room still smell like a gingerbread house and would her stocking still hang by their chimney with care? Would Kal come with her or would she split her time between Kal and Alex and Eliza like some children who get double presents when their parents divorce?
Alex knocked on her door and waltzed in, “Hey Kara, mom made you something to take to Kal. There’s a winter storm over Greenland, you should probably get going soon.”
Kara wiped the tears from her eyes and her sister rushed to hug her. She had to bend down a little and lift Alex off the ground, but no way was she leaving without giving her sister a proper hug.
“I’m going to miss you and mom so much, Alex. I’ve never been away from home for more than a few hours, how am I going to make it to Christmas without you both? Will you even still want me back?”
Alex nuzzled closer, “You better come back because I don’t want to imagine this place without you. Who’s going to lift the fridge so mom can sweep under it hmm? Who’s going to change all of the light bulbs in the workshop when they blow out? Who’s going to drink hot chocolate with me and watch Hallmark movies in July?”
Kara laughed, shaking her head and deposited Alex on the floor, “I thought you hated the Hallmark channel.”
Alex simply rolled her eyes, “But I love spending time with my sister, and I love you, you big sap. I swore I wasn’t going to cry.”
Feeling slightly better Kara shoves her sister’s shoulder, a little too hard and catches her before she falls, “I love you too, dork. Don’t open the present I got you until you get back, pinky swear?”
Alex locks pinkies with Kara and kisses her thumb, “I’ll miss you. Please be safe. No breaking the sound barrier, watch out for pigeons because there’s a lot in Metropolis or so I’ve read. And when you see Kal remember to call him Clark Kent.”
“Got it, and don’t eat anything I don’t buy myself or anything not given to me by Clark, Lois, or Jonathan because there’s a high chance it’s not candy.”
Kara hugged Eliza for thirty minutes after that, and then Alex for another ten minutes before waving goodbye to Santa and all of the elves at his workshop. Metropolis wasn’t so far for her to fly, and she’d be home in no time.
She coasted through the peppermint sparkled glaciers, touched the northern lights, sailed through the skies above the Arctic Ocean, grazed the top of the Daily Planet, and landed atop the small two bedroom apartment building on the rent controlled side of town. Inside the windows of the corner apartment on the top floor, Kara saw Kal with his family, lighting candles, looking happy and calm. She decided to wait until morning to meet Kal, Clark, alone.
She listened into the city around her, all of the heartbeats like a million tiny hammers beating together, all except one. Kara flew the city, pinpointing the sound, admiring all of the lights on all the trees in all of the buildings and all the shining multicolored bulbs lining the streets. And it was there, in the tallest tower of the tallest building, one light shone through the wall to wall window, a small desk lamp in the large office. At the desk a woman with jet black hair and skin as white and fair as snow sat, typing away at her computer, nibbling on the pen in her mouth. She strained her long elegant neck, and stretched her arms above her head before getting back to work.
Kara glanced below the balcony to the street corner, finding what she knew the young woman needed. She floated down to the alley and walked into a coffee shop, took some time figuring out how to pay for a cup of coffee with the paper and coin money that Santa had given her before she left. Smiled and thanked the cashier for helping her, put one of the bills in his tip jar (it was a hundred.) She quickly flew into the woman’s office, left the coffee on her desk, and flew out of sight, feeling a little like Santa herself in the moment.
The woman grabbed the coffee absentmindedly and sipped, not expecting it to be so hot Kara sees her fanning her mouth and frantically searching the room with her eyes. When she turns to peer out her balcony, Kara sees her face, hard jaw line, soft endearing green eyes. She smiles as the woman screams and locks her balcony door as the windows go pitch black.
15 notes
·
View notes
Text
Rogue! Werewolf! Min Yoongi- A Million Moons.
I’ma say this, I tried to make a banner for this...it ain’t work out so well lol. So I’ma just do banners when it’s really big and important, just pretend there’s a Yoongi with yellow eyes and fangs
right here! In this area. This is gonna be my lil fancy banner placeholder. I’m mostl ikely never going to make one...
It has been...a week or maybe two, possibly three I don’t know. Girl, quarantine had me thinking it was June already, don’t judge me. Don’t ask me where I’ve been I have no clue myself.
ALSO BE SURE TO CHECK OUT MY MASTERLIST!
Update: GOT A NAME FOR THIS SHIT, HA!
Leggo!
Disclaimer- VIOLENCE... Also slight religious references but not heavy.
Also I took inspiration from Easton and Emmary Audio. They are on soundcloud and youtube and amazing af...like legit yas.
...
You could only scream as you were thrown down the stairs by the a few men. You tumbled down the steps yelping in pain as you hit the floor. You quickly scrambled to your feet, trying to stumble up the stairs. To your dismay, the door was locked from the outside, which meant you were trapped. Screwed for lack of a better term.
“LET ME OUT!” you yelled, banging on the door. “PLEASE!” you could feel your heart rate pick up quickly. Anxiety filled your body as you were welcomed by silence. “Please...” You attempted to yank at the door knob but it never budged. All you could remember was being grabbed by someone and dragged off. In a mix of emotions you could only guess what was going on. You were chosen as a sacrifice. To the beast...
Every month, a random person would go missing. You had only assumed it to be a myth made up by the older townspeople to get women to be safe at night, or not walk home alone, you were very wrong. The more people went missing, the more you became a believer.
It was a rule, never be seen, never be caught alone, never be caught at night, and especially not on a full moon like tonight. The Cursed Moon as your elders called it. There was a huge rumor about a beast that dwelled in a prison. It was captured by the town’s pastor. Pastor Bower believed that if he kept the monster prisoner and fed it, then that would atone for all the sins of the other beasts. No one said anything, mostly because they didn’t want to be next. You were never one for myths or the supernatural, but you were interested nonetheless. Only now, being the next sacrifice to tame whatever beast resided within these these walls left you wishing you were more ignorant.
A low growl erupted from the shadows where the light refused to hit. It seemed to be echoing from all around the tiny room. The windows were completely boarded up.
“I smell human.” a low gurgling voice made you slap a hand over your mouth. You desperately prayed from someone to get you out of this situation. Suddenly, you heard the rattling of chains.
A man emerged from the heavily shadowed corner. You could see the chain dragging behind him with every step he took. They were long, probably long enough to allow his to walk across the room, but not long enough to make it to the stairs all the way. His shirt was tattered, just barely hanging off his shoulders. His hair was a mess, sticking out in random directions. His hair was jet black, which contrasted against his pale porcelain skin. His raised his head to stare at you. All you could detect was a pair of neon red eyes.
“Hm...” he chuckled lowly. “Are you gonna make this easy for me or are you gonna be a fool and try and run.”
“You stay away from me.” you warned. “I’m warning you!” you voice cracked dramatically. You sounded far from intimidating.
“Hm, I see they bought me a talkative one...I can tell you’re gonna be difficult to handle. Word of advice: bravery is for the foolish. Nothing good has come from trying to be.”
You could hear rustling outside the door and it became obvious that this was a horrific reality and not a nightmare. Not realizing how narrow the steps were, you missed your footing and began tumbling down the stairs again. you crashed on the floor, more pain rushing to your sides than before. You had no desire to try and get up. Your next few minutes were numbered it seemed like.
“Are you stupid?” the man laughed. “It’s almost sad what I’m about to do.” You could only cover your face with your hands, turning on your side. You didn’t want to die, you especially didn’t want to die as a monthly ritual. You silently prayed for something, anything, to get you out of this mess. Dear lord, please let something help you.
Wait
You heard a low whisper like voice which caught you by surprise. You didn’t breathe, you had to make sure you weren’t just hearing things.
“What?” an annoyed voice replied.
This one...she’s different.
You remained quiet as the man had a conversation with...himself?
“You...look at me.” he barked at you.
Deciding you didn’t want this to end painfully, you moved your hands from your face, confusion very evident in your eyes. The stranger crouched down in front of you, narrowing his eyes at you. He moved his hair out of his face to get a better look at you. As soon as you met his eyes, your expression went blank. You were sure he could see your glossed over eyes from the tears threatening to fall. His expression went from angered to...content? His lips slightly parted as if he hit a temendous realization.
“Oh....” he whispered to himself. “It’s you.” He suddenly began playing with his hands, like he didn’t know whether to reach out or keep them to himself.
You were shaking and scared. You hadn’t realized you had begun to cry from fright. “W-what? Me?”
Before you could register anything, the man grumbled with laughter. He raised his hand and before you could flinch, caught your tears on his thumb. His skin was hot, hotter that normal.
“Hm, well I didn’t expect this to happen.” the man chuckled under his breath. “Come on now, don’t cry.”
“What?” now you were very confused. “Wait-”
“I’m not going to kill you.”
“You’re not?” you were taken aback. “I mean that’s great and all, but-” what caused him to change his mind so quickly?
“You’re thinking why? Why did I change my mind so suddenly?” he cut you off with a glint of a smile. “A wolf never harms his mate.”
Wait...mate? Did he say mate? Like as is lovers? Soulmates. You were just trying to make sure. Like did you really just hear him say the word...mate? (Oh my god you dumb ass yes he said mate! Does he need to spell it out?)
“Mate?” you repeated your thoughts out loud. “But I’m not-”
“Ah, Ah ,Ah...but you are, Babygirl. The second we laid eyes on eachother. We knew...we just knew.” he wiped more tears from your face. It would have been more assuring if you weren’t in the current situation you were in.
“We?” you had a bad habit or repeating yourself today.
“The wolf, I call him Suga.” he explained. “I’ll have to go into depth later on, but for now. What’s your name?”
Do tell us won’t you?
“My name is...Y/N.” you replied. “That voice. Who is-”
“That would be Suga.” he replied with a laugh. “Don’t mind him, he’s just a pain in the ass.You’ll learn to block him out like I do. Ignore him, he doesn’t provide any substance to any conversation.”
Hey, she’s my mate too.
“And she’ll get to know you when it’s your turn.” he snapped to his wolf. You were left in a heap on confusion. “Would you like to stand or are you more comfortable on the floor?” his gaze on you softened. He held his hand out for you to take. You then grabbed his hand and heaved yourself up. He followed up in pursuit, standing up as well.
You awkwardly shifted on the balls of your feet. You didn’t know what to say.
Cat got your tongue?
“Um..no.” you dumbly replied. “I’m j-just...You know if this hadn’t happened I would have been literally dog food right?”
“ I’m not sure if that was a pun or not, but I understand.” Yoongi smiled sideways. “One minute you were bought here as a sacrifice and the next-” he cut himself off. “I’ll be honest, I didn’t expect this myself. It’s the last thing I expected, being stuck down here for so long.”
“Right.” you mumbled.
“You see, it doesn’t matter anymore.” he smirked. “Because you’re mine, and I’m yours.” he chuckled. “Forever” He stared down at you. “You feel it too, I can tell.”
“Why did they trap you down here?” you asked, in desperation to change the subject. “If I can ask.”
“Hm, well people don’t take to kindly to my type anymore. Maybe in the 1800s where they thought we could grant wishes, but not so much anymore.” he shrugged. “I could ask you the same question, Babydoll. Not that I’m not thrilled to have you in my presence.”
“...I was walking home after I had walked my friend back to her house. Next thing I know I was grabbed from behind and then-”
So you were unlucky.
“Seems like it.” Yoongi answered for his wolf. “Fate has strange ways of working doesn’t it?
“Yeah.” you replied.
“...Hm, well I don’t see a reason I should have to dwell here any longer.” Yoongi hummed. “You must be aching to leave as well. I don’t suppose you know how to pick a lock?”
“You let yourself stay here?”
“Not like I have a pack to follow.” he shrugged.
“Well, I don’t know. I’ve never tried.” you answered. “You can’t just break the chains?”
“They’re indestructible, Princess.” he shrugged. “We’ve tried everything.”
By now, the idiots that trapped me down here will have come to collect the dead body that should be lying before me. I wonder how they’re going to react when they realize.
Before you could react, the door swung open.
Hide, Princess. Under the stairs.
You instantly ducked behind the steps, as he instructed. You definitely didn’t need to be told twice. You listened as the back and forth between Yoongi and whoever had just entered occured.
“Come to visit me, Mr. Bower?”
“Quiet, demon! You’ve gotten your sacrifice-...W-where’s the body?”
“I have no clue what you’re talking about.” he replied.
“The body! There should be-” the old man stared around the room. He apparently couldn’t see you, but you could see him. You noticed there was something shiny hanging off his belt. A key? You narrowed your eyes to try to make you the mystery object.
What’s wrong, Princess?
Yoongi looked over this Mr. Bower’s shoulder to glance at you just as he heard his wolf speak. You could only mouth “key” under your breath. You pointed to where you wanted him to look. The key stuck out like a sore thumb. If you had moved to abruptly, you probably would have been seen. The good thing about him, was that he could see in even the darkest of places so he understood perfectly.
“Feel free to look around. I forget sometimes.” Yoongi took a few steps back.
Mr. Bower began to walk into a random corner of the room, his back turned towards the both of you. Suddenly, The roots of Yoongi’s hair began turning whitish-blue. A iridescent silver color. It traveled down the the very tips of his hair. You stood in amazement, wondering what he was doing. His hair morphed from black to a shiny silver.
What was happening?
I’d turn away if I were you.
He didn’t need to ask again. You practically slapped yourself in the face trying to cover your eyes.
“No, NO!”
There was an echo of screaming and crying. You could just picture it. All these sounds whizzed around in your head. It was vulgar and scary. Not to mention the most disgusting thing you’ve ever heard in your life. You could hear the man you had just met unleashing his fury on Bower.
Suddenly it was silent. Enough to where you could hear a pin drop. You felt a gentle hand on your shoulder.
It’s over sweetheart.
You moved your hands from your face, now covering your cheeks. Call it childish, but it treated like a shield to you. You didn’t dare look over Yoongi’s shoulder. You could see the pool of blood.
“D-did you get the key?” you stammered.
“Right here?” he held the key in a his hands. “Would you like to to the honors?”
“S-sure.” you weren’t sure how you mustered the wits to grabbed the blood stained key from him, but you did. You unshackled his hands first, then his ankles.
“Thanks.” Yoongi sighed.
“No p-problem.” you replied breathlessly. “Um...So what now?” You dropped the key and let your arms rest at your sides.
“Well...we should probably leave. I’m a rogue, I just killed the town’s most loved man. It might be a good idea for us to skip town all together.”
“Us?” you repeated.
“Yeah, Us. You’re the only witness and namely the first and only human to ever survive a full moon with a werewolf. A rogue, packless one at that.”
Plus, why would we ever leave without our mate.
You blinked a few times, still mulling everything over in your head. Leave town? With a man you just met? Who tried to kill you not even ten minutes ago?
“It’s scary I know, but we’re in danger here. That man has followers, followers who would kill you first and ask questions later. if they found out you survived, they would think you had someone to do with that scumbag’s death.”
“I d-don’t know.” you shook your head. “I-”
“I want to protect you but you have to let me.” he held out his hands. His hair was slowly started to fade back into that pitch black color. “Y/N, please.” he almost whimpered. He almost sounded like a dog. Ha...dog humor.
To be honest, nothing was keeping you their. The town that was supposed to make you feel safe had turned on you, other women too. How long would it be before another defenseless creature was caught, forced to go insane behind the walls of a smelly basement.
“Okay.” you agreed.
“I don’t think you know how relieved I am.” he sighed with relief. “Come on, we have to go before someone else comes.” he ushered you over to one of the windows. “Better make this fast.” he mumbled before hauling his fist at the surprisingly fragile boards. The window collapsed, wood and glass seeming exploding. “Shit! That might have been too loud.”
“Really?” you mused sarcastically. “You just punched out a boarded window!”
While you’re very cute princess, that isn’t exactly helping out.
“I fell down the stairs twice. I’ve earned the right to- AAGH!”
Yoongi had somehow grabbed your wrist and pulled your to his chest. It took a split second to notice your feet weren’t on the ground anymore.
“Hang on, babe!”
“Wait, what are you-OH MY GOSH WE’RE GONNA DIE!” Yoongi hand climbed up the wall and jumped out the window. The cold air hit your skin. Yoongi practically glided through the air.
Are you always like this?
“Only when met by situations like this.” you mumbled in reply. Yoongi landed on his feet and set you down. “Woah, it’s been months since I’ve been free.”
“How does it feel?”
“....It feels beautiful.” he sighed with content. “I feel alive again...plus I have you so it’s better.” his face turned serious. “Sweetheart, I meant what I said. We’re in danger if we stay here any longer than needed. I know you might not want to leave...but for your sake and mine. I can’t stay here, to many townspeople know my face, and by now they know that you were supposed to be my sacrifice.”
“Oh...That’s bad, isn’t it.” your insides twisted.
“Very. So I need to say this now before we get too far. Don’t do anything I don’t tell you. Listen when I say something. If I’m about to die you need to run, I’ll be fine you don’t worry about me. and most importantly...”
Your life comes before mine...That means I protect you until the day I stop breathing.
“Do you understand?” his eyes bore into yours. This whole mates thing was heavy, but serious.
“Yes.”
“Good. Now come on. We shouldn’t hang around here any longer.”
#btswriterscorner#nightowlfandom#kpop imagines#kpop scenarios#kpop x reader#kpop au#imagines#fanfic#hoseok imagines#taehyung imagines#yoongi imagines#jimin imagines#namjoon imagines#jungkook imagines#seokjin imagines#fluff#angst imagines#yoongi imagine#min yoongi#yoongi x reader#min yoongi imagines#werewolf bts#bts au#yoongi werewolf#bts supernatural au
69 notes
·
View notes
Text
Jamie Vanderan
IDENTITY
Name: Aoibhinn “Jamie” Vega Vanderan, born Aiden Vega Hearthwood
Gender: Female (trans), She/her
Age: 17 (sixth year)
Birthdate: Oct. 28th, 1972
Species: Human
Blood Status: Pure-blood
Alignement: CG
Ethnicity: Irish, British
Nationality: Irish
Myers-Biggs Personality: ENFP - The Campaigner
THE MAGE
1st Wand -> 11 3/4, Ebony Wood, Unicorn Hair
This jet-black wand wood has an impressive appearance and reputation, being highly suited to all manner of combative magic and to transfiguration. Ebony is happiest in the hand of those with the courage to be themselves. Frequently non-conformist, highly individual or comfortable with the status of outsider, ebony wand owners have been found both among the ranks of the Order of the Phoenix and among the Death Eaters. The ebony wand’s perfect match is one who will hold fast to his or her beliefs, no matter what the external pressure, and will not be swayed lightly from their purpose.
2nd wand -> 10 1/4, Blackthorn, Dragon Heartstring
Blackthorn, which is a very unusual wand wood, has the reputation of being best suited to a warrior. This does not necessarily mean that its owner practises the Dark Arts; one finds blackthorn wands among the Aurors as well as among the denizens of Azkaban and Death Eaters. It is a curious feature of the blackthorn bush, which sports wicked thorns, that it produces its sweetest berries after the hardest frosts, and the wands made from this wood appear to need to pass through danger or hardship with their owners to become truly bonded. Given this condition, the blackthorn wand will become as loyal and faithful a servant as one could wish.
Animagus: Red fox (vulpes vulpes)
Misc: Not a legilimens. Occlumens.
Boggart Form:
Voldemort. This form is more for what he represents as opposed to the man himself. He is the reason for the war that Jamie grew up in. His mere name caused terror to anyone who heard it. It reminds her of the rumors that her dear brother ran away to join his ranks, something she refuses to believe. Her mother fled with her and her twin after Voldemort’s fall, fearing the aftermath. The boggart taunts her, in a way, casting doubt on her belief in her brother and reminding her of her fear of losing him forever.
The Portrait Dragon. The dragon represents the first real challenge from the Cursed Vaults that she struggled to overcome, even with her twin and friends’ help. Her friends were directly hurt by her near-failure. It was also where Rakeprick, her mentor, betrayed her. It represents failure, recklessness, abandonment, and the dangers she brings to those close to her.
Riddikilus form: Voldemort > Explodes into confetti and giggle noises. Dragon > turned into a stuffed dragon plush that then starts acting like a puppy.
Amortentia: (what she smells) Some kind of wood (it’s pine but she doesn’t know that), honeysuckle, and a familiar perfume she can’t quite identify
Patronus: Fox
Patronus Memory: 1) When she was five and Jacob was running around with her on his shoulders while she directed him to chase imaginary dragons. 2) Her father teaching her to ballroom dance (standing on his feet and everything) after the hired instructor cancelled last minute. She was looking forward to it and was crushed, until he offered to fill in instead. 3) Lake-side impromptu theater with Rose, Penny, and Rowan. Penny said she had never seen a specific play that the others had, so the other three spent the next hour or so (very terribly) reenacting the play for her. None of them could remember half the lines collectively, so it quickly turned into an improv session based on what they remembered. Much laughter was had. 4) Talking with Talbott at night in the astronomy tower. Both were up and out of their dorms past curfew, neither able to sleep. They talked about anything and everything except why they couldn’t sleep.
Mirror of Erised: Her family, together and whole. Her twin standing on her right; Jacob on her left, looking how she remembered him; and her parents standing behind her.
Specialized/Favorite Spells:
Diffindo (signature)
Incendio (favored dueling)
Levitation Charm (from constant practice)
Depulso (signature/favored dueling)
Bluebell Flames (ooo, pretty)
APPEARANCE
Face Claim: Billie Eilish
Voice Claim: Linda Cardellini (as Wendy from Gravity Falls)
Height: 5′10″
Eye color: Blue
Hair color: Blue (naturally brown)
Skin tone: Medium cool
Body modifications: Magic-based partial transitional body transfiguration (MtF), magically changed hair blue
Scarring: A scar on her stomach from a gash caused by the spikes on the tail of the dragon in the portrait vault when she was swatted aside. She asked to keep the scar. She has a few small and faded scars that were not erased with magic, gained from an active childhood, but aren’t significant enough to mention.
Inventory (what’s something they value): Her wand. Leather bracelet bought from a muggle shop. Dragon tooth necklace bought from Diagon Alley after 3rd year. Self-inking quill with shiny blue ink (gift from Rowan). Prefect Badge.
ALLEGIANCES
Hogwarts House: Slytherin
Affiliations/Organizations: Circle Khanna
Profession: She plans to become an auror after graduation.
HOGWARTS INFORMATIONS
Class Proficiencies
Astronomy: ★★★★★★★☆☆☆
O.W.L. Achieved: E
Charms: ★★★★★★★★☆☆
O.W.L. Achieved: E
DADA: ★★★★★★★★★☆
O.W.L. Achieved: O
Herbology: ★★★★☆☆☆☆☆
O.W.L. Achieved: E
History of Magic: ★★★★★☆☆☆☆☆
O.W.L. Achieved: A
Potions: ★★★★★★★★☆☆
O.W.L. Achieved: O
Transfiguration: ★★★★★☆☆☆☆☆
O.W.L. Achieved: E
Flying: ★★★★★★☆☆☆☆
Electives:
CoMC: ★★★★☆☆☆☆☆☆
O.W.L. Achieved: E
Divination: ★★★★★★☆☆☆☆
O.W.L. Achieved: O
Muggle Studies: ★★★★★★☆☆☆☆
O.W.L. Achieved: E
Ancient Runes: ★★★★★★☆☆☆☆
O.W.L. Achieved: E
Quidditch: Joined team as beater in 6th year
Extra-curricular: Muggle music, dancing club
Favorite Professor: Flitwick. He’s highly skilled, engaging, patient, and fun.
Least Favorite Professor: Binns “Seriously, why does Dumbledore keep him?”
RELATIONSHIPS :
Sister: Rose Vanderan (fraternal twin)
The twins weren’t as close growing up as twins commonly are. From the age of five, both were raised and taught differently: Jamie (Aiden) was raised as a spare heir, as the second-born son, and Rose was raised as a proper young lady of the house. The separation continued once they reached school as both were in separate houses and made different friends (with the exception of Rowan and Ben who were shared with both). However, in their school years they were away from their mother, allowing more freedom from their “roles”. Since arriving at school, she and Rose dealt with all the expectations and concerns their brother left in his wake. Rumors, both good and bad, surrounded them and a lot of the weight was placed on their shoulders by Jacob’s larger shadow. Around their third year Rose became more involved with the search for the Vaults, and from that point the two became closer, and by their fifth year they were nearly inseparable.
Brother: Jacob Hearthwood
Born July 10th, 1963
Slytherin
Expelled Oct. 1980
Natural-born legilimens
Face Claim: Cody Christian
Since the beginning Jamie looked up to Jacob. He was cool, fun, brave, and strong, a great older brother. He was everything that she wanted to be. With a nine year age difference, she would always be a kid to him, but he always made sure to spend time with her during school breaks. She’d marvel at the stories Jacob told her of the adventures and mischief he’d get into at school, although he rarely spoke of the Cursed Vaults. Looking back she really doesn’t have any bad memories involving Jacob.
She, like her twin Rose, refused to believe the overheard whispers among the adults that Jacob had joined the Death Eaters: That he was young and impressionable, that he followed the wrong crowd and did a lot of questionable or illegal things that made him an interest for Voldemort’s efforts. Her brother would never. The rumor that he was dead she refused even harder; If he was a Death Eater, at least he was alive.
As she investigated what happened to Jacob in Hogwarts, she started to build a different image of her brother. Many people loved him, saying that he was a great student and a great friend. Others thought him a delinquent that brought nothing but trouble. It was the latter thought that surprised Jamie.
This Jacob was not the big brother she knew, or more accurately, the brother she remembered. Nine years is a long time, both as an age difference and a time to be separated. At first she believed that Jacob had changed, that the Cursed Vaults had really messed with his mind, made him mad like everyone claimed. But when she considered everything that she'd heard about her brother before he disappeared, both good and bad, she started to wonder if she ever really knew him to begin with. This was first evident when she hesitated to approach him in the Portrait Vault. Was this really the Jacob she remembered?
In mirrored contrast, her hesitation was also due to how different she was from what he remembered. He remembered Aiden, his younger brother. Rose tried to help explain, and Jacob understood the general idea from Rose’s memories due to their legilimens connection over the years. While he seemed to have accepted, Jamie didn’t have the chance to really say more--or anything she wanted to say the past nine years--before he ran off after Rakepick.
She was a stranger to him, just as he was to her.
Mother: Vassendra “Vassie” Vanderan
Born August 24th, 1943
Pure-blood.
Slytherin.
Lady of the Manor.
Work for the Dept. of Magical Games & Sports (Quidditch League Headquarters).
Face Claim: Charlize Theron
Vassie was often cautious and controlling, and at times overbearing. She had high expectations for all of her children, especially so for Jamie--who was Aiden then--as the only remaining male heir after Jacob’s disappearance. Jamie was relatively close with her mother before attending Hogwarts, but after Jacob’s disappearance their relationship was strained as she drew into herself more and more.
As the dangers of the Cursed Vaults grew with each year and the twins’ insistence in being at the center of it, Vassie threatened to pull them both out of Hogwarts. She very nearly had after their fifth year and the events of the Buried Vaults, but the twins managed to convince her that they would stay away from the Vaults, stating that they had learned their lesson the hard way. But a month into their sixth year, after they both turned 17, they broke their promise and threw themselves back into the search for the final vault. Jamie refused to give up on Jacob or just forget what Rakepick did. This is what finally estranged their relationship.
Jamie felt that her mother, like many of the other adults, had given up on Jacob and written him off as dead. She understood that her mother mourned Jacob’s absence as she had, as they all do, but while her mother was trying to move on, Jamie refused to let him go. Perhaps part of her, the still childlike and naive part, thought that if she could find Jacob and bring him back, that everything would go back to the way it was before.
Jamie’s estrangement from her mother was largely due to Jamie’s stubborn pursuit of the Vaults, but it began before she first arrived at Hogwarts, with her mother’s dismissive refusal to accept that her youngest “son” is actually one of her daughters. It wasn’t until just before Jamie’s second year at Hogwarts that her mother relented enough to allow a dorm change, and another year until she legally changed Jamie’s name from Aiden to Aoibhinn.
Father: Damian Hearthwood
Born July 28th, 1929
Pure-blood.
Gryffindor.
A businessman and threat analyst.
Natural-born legilimens
Face/Voice Claim: Jeremy Irons
Hearthwood was a fastidious and daring man, a strict but rewarding father, and a devoted husband. He cared greatly for his family and did what was necessary to provide for and protect his family. Like Vassie, Damian held high expectations for his children, and made efforts to ensure that they were raised to meet them.
Where Jamie had a closer and stronger relationship with her mother, she had a more distant but emotionally complicated relationship with her father. Her memories of him are mostly vague and sort of dull mixed with a desire for recognition and pride. She has several happy memories with her father that she treasures, but she also has memories of his disapproval and disappointment that she can’t let go. She sought his approval, to have him speak of her with the same pride as he had with Jacob.
When he was arrested in 1981, shortly before Voldemort’s fall, it came as a shock to her. Her father was a businessman, but he never spoke of specifics and her mother insisted it all be kept away from the twins. The adults would whisper, as they had when Jacob disappeared, but they were far more quiet and careful when it came to Mr. Hearthwood, as if they were afraid. Jamie, however, was angry with her father for being sent to Azkaban and leaving behind the backlash and danger great enough to make them leave the country. Her mother kept much of the details about Mr. Hearthwood’s arrest from the twins, shielding them the same way she did with anything involving what Mr. Hearthwood did.
Her emotions toward him are complicated.
Love interest: Talbott Winger
Best Friends: Charlie Weasley, Ben Copper (until his distance in 6th year)
Rival: Merula Snyde, Penny Haywood (in Potions)
Enemy: Rakeprick, R., the trick step in the staircase behind the tapestry on the fourth floor corridor
Dormmate: Barnaby Lee, Linden Flint (background angry blond Slytherin boy). From 2nd year on: Merula Snyde, Ismelda Murk, and Liz Tuttle.
Pets: Waffles Cooper (ginger tabby cat), Whiskerfitz (Jacob’s old owl)
Closest MC Friends: Penny Haywood, Ben Copper, Rowan Khanna, Andre Egwu
BACKGROUND/HISTORY
Vassendra met Damian when she was young and she was instantly swooned by his charm. He had money, charisma, influence, and good looks--well approved by her family as a satisfactory suitor. Within a year of their marriage, Jacob was born on July 10th, 1963. Aiden Vega Hearthwood was born shortly after her twin, Róisín, on October 28th, 1972. Jamie spent the majority of her childhood in the Hearthwood family estate, a manor built by her father, in Gloucestershire, England. In 1980, early into Jacob’s final year at Hogwarts, he was expelled and declared missing shortly after. In 1981, Mr. Hearthwood was arrested for selling contraband (illegally imported magical items) to Death Eaters, and was imprisoned in Azkaban. After Voldemort’s downfall a month later, Vassie took the twins and moved to Ireland to live with her father’s family, thinking distance would protect them.
PERSONALITY
Positive Traits: Strong-willed, charismatic, cunning, resourceful, adaptive communicator, empathic, confident
Neutral Traits: Observant, insightful, ambitious
Negative Traits: Jealous, manipulative, over-thinks when it comes to others’ reactions, lack of focus, meddlesome, scheming
MISC
Able to see thestrals since fourth year, after witnessing a student affected by the Sleeping Curse die from an unknown poison/venom in the hospital wing.
Learning to play guitar, is okay at it
Whiskerfitz is a small, crazy looking, and easily ruffled owl that used to be Jacob’s. He was an excitable and charming owl, but since his owner's disappearance he’s become neurotic and scared of people. It took the better part of her third year to get Whiskerfitz to trust her enough to approach him. Now he adores Jamie.
She managed to pass History of Magic thanks solely to Rowan and Rose’s help.
Inspired by a text glitch in-game, Jamie had trouble remembering whether Ben’s last name was “Copper” or “Cooper”. To fix this, she named her cat Cooper, so that Ben’s name is the other one. He probably doesn’t know this.
Notes:
The nickname “Jamie” was born of necessity from so many people mispronouncing Aoibhinn (ee-vahn). When asked, she’d tell people it was short for Jasmine, instead of James, because it’s feminine and fits with her twin’s name, Rose.
Her alignment started chaotic neutral, but it shifted as her goals became less selfish and more bigger picture, as it were. The Cursed Vaults affected more than just her and her siblings, and she started fighting for more than just her own personal reasons.
Jacob is nine years older than Jamie and her twin. He went missing shortly into his seventh year, three days before their ninth birthday.
The dragon tooth necklace was a gift reward from her mother for her high exam marks at the end of her third year.
Yes, that is a fourteen year age difference between the mother and father.
Used @hogwartsmysterystory‘s HPHM MC template.
#jamie vanderan#hphm mc#vanderan twins#jacob's sibling#hphm mc profilfe#mr hearthwood#talbott winger#hphm mc profile#ben copper#hphm ben copper#rose vanderan#madam rakepick#charlie weasley
8 notes
·
View notes
Photo
I do not own Pokemon or Nuzlocke or Wonderlocke. Pokemon belong to Nintendo and Gamefreak. Nuzlocke aka Pokemon Hard mode belong to Nuzlocke. Wonderlocke was created by a group. I only own the character and their personalities. Also, for Itzal outfit, the jacket and short of the cool trainer from gen 7 except a darker blue and has some red forming the Alpha symbol around the collar, and a pair of sunglasses. I might give him an outfit change later in the story. Itzal's PoV A dream. That what I feared that day and this journey was all a dream, born from envious mind and that I was asleep in my bed. I even thought at that time that we did not move, and I was still in the Kalos. I am glad for that I got to battle that man, for what I felt that day will serve as proof that this is real.
Ep.3: Scleractinia Libretto
Location: Rustboro City Rustboro City. It was here that the city’s beating heart; Devon Corp began here as a small mining corp. Over time it evolved into a corporation that rivaled Silph Co and helped shaped the place into the metropolitan city it is today. It was also home to the Rustboro City gym.
I felt my heart race as I stood in front of the building and I knew the reasons why. This would be my first gym battle. I burned midnight oil looking going over all gym leaders battle video she recorded.
The automatic door slides open and saw a I saw a girl in a schoolgirl outfit that remind me of nosepass. I knew who she was- This was the Roxanne, the Rustboro City gym leader. At young age, she showed promised as trainer by displaying her skill as a gym leader
“Excuse me,” She shifted her gaze toward me “Oh. Hello. Who are? Are you here to look at the fossil display here, to train under me, or are you here for a gym battle?”
“I'm Itzal from Littleroot Town. I’m here for a gym battle.” She nodded “Very well, follow me.” I followed her all the way back to a rocky battlefield and a display monitor carefully placed beside a stone wall carving the upper part of a skeleton of a Dragonite. There waiting for us was a referee. “Trainers,” He said sternly, “Take your places.” We both walked over to different places on the side of the arena. Roxxane pushed a hidden button and hidden compartment opened up revealing some hard cover books “Now before I begin, I must ask how many gym badges you have earned so far? “I don't have any. This is my first time on.” “Okay.” She grabbed a green book “You will be facing two of my Pokemon. You can switch out during the battle or after KO one of mine.” She opened the book and grabbed, revealing two hallowed out indents; each with an indent in them. She grabbed one in the left and tossed a sent out a Geodude.
(“Okay. Rock types are weak against water type, so Manami should have the advantage, plus her ground typing she gained from her evolution gives her type resistance.”) I grabbed Manami’s Poke ball and tossed it on to the battlefield “Let’s go Manami.”
However, in my exciment, instead of Manami’s Poke Ball, I grabbed Jenna’s Poke ball. Something that I realized after she materialized.
Roxanne, and the Referee had a dumbfound look on their face while the Geodude had a looked terror plastered on their face.
The judge hesitated but gave the signal “...Begin.”
“...use Iron tail on Geodude.” I awkwardly ordered her. She swung her tail. But before it could connect, the Geodude rushed back into its Poke ball. (“This is not how I wanted start my first gym battle.”)
“Geodude forfeits...the win goes to Jenna.”
“I pulled out Jenna’s Poke ball and recalled her back. I grabbed my starters Poke ball and tossed it. I watched a newly evolved Marshstomp popped out the capsule.
“Manami, are you ready?” She confidently nod her head “Ready.”
Roxane grabbed her last Poke ball “Go, Nosepass.”
She opened it and out materialized a Nosepass. “Lets the second match,” The referee lowered both flags “BEGIN!” “Manami, use Water gun!” Manami fired a stream at Nosepass. It hit it mark, but based on their expression, it still has some steam to spar “Nosepass, use Rock Tomb!” “Manami, step away from that spot and use Water gun on Nosepass.” Manami got out to of the way of the rising rock pillars and began firing at the walking mo’ai. “Use Rock Tomb while she is attacking!” Nosepass withstood Manami's attack, created another rock tomb and trapped her before she could dodge. I am glad she chose to evolve before challenging the gym or that would have hurt. I looked at the screen and saw that her Nosepass was almost out of energy. “Manami!” “Nosepass!” “Finish it with water gun!” “Block it with Rock Tomb!” Both of the combatants perform their attacks, Manami fired a jet stream of water and Nosepass jumped into the air, but before it could create another Rock Tomb, Manami's attack hits it mark and knocked it right out of the air. It tried to get back up using whatever energy it had left, but it gave into exhaustion.
“Nosepass is unable to battle,” The referee announced, “The victory goes to the challenger.”
Roxanne recalled Nosepass back into its Poke ball.
While Roxanne walked toward with Manami bursting out and following right behind her. “Congrats on your victory.” I felt a sense of pride swelling up inside “Thanks.” “As proof of your victory, take this Stone badge.” Roxanne handed me a gold badge. “With this badge, all Pokemon you have attack stats increase.” “Thank you,” I said, “Let’s go Manami.”
We left the gym and headed to the Poke Center
“We did well for our first time.”
I let out a sigh “Yeah, still wished the first battle went differently.”
She tilts her head “What happened in the first battle?”
“I accidentally sent Jenna out and her first Pokemon forfeited.” “I’m guessing your not a fan of those kind of wins.” “That and I did was up most of the night researching the gym leader, so for her Pokemon to give up like that is quite frustrating.”
“Well at least we got to battle her last Pokemon, plus it didn’t go down in one-shot.”
“...true. thank you for cheering me up.” “Thank you for doing research.”
I sat on the floor of the guest room. I pulled out my spell book from my bag and the Stone Badge from my pocket. I placed it on top of the dark blue orb and watched as badge sinks into it as my consciousness begins to slips.
I dreamt I was lava. My body hardening from a cool embrace.
I dreamt I was a lump of coal, being pressed deep in the earth crust.
I dreamt rock, resting as nature eat away at me.
I dreamt I was all these and so much more.
At the end of my dream, I saw a stone version it raised arm toward me and three flashed in my mind [Lame Dee Obidienne]. A black arming sword with a familiar design appeared it hand.
Two more appeared in my mind [Aiguille d'ombre] and some dark needles formed fired toward me.
I woke up. I looked at the clock and saw it was it was 1:00pm. I decided to train for a bit.
Location: Route 116 Training well on the route and the results. I manage to recruit another Pokemon and Yoko became a Vivillon. That make two Pokemon that evolved on this route.
I was heading back to the Pokemon Center when suddenly we heard we saw a Team Aqua grunt holding a suitcase in his arm run by me.
(“What the?”)
“Itzal!”
I turned around and saw my dad, “Dad, what going on?”
“Some crook ran off with some parts from the company.”
“Don't worry we will get them back.”
I searched the route, looking for the thief.
“Where is that bastard?”
“If you’re talking about a weird look person in blue, I know where he went.”
An old man with concerned expression on his face walked up to us, “Which way did they go?”
He points toward the east “He went into Rusturf Tunnel. The scoundrel made off with me darling Peeko. Wrooooaaar! PEEKO!”
“Don’t worry, we’ll get them back.” Location: Rusturf Tunnel Rusturf Tunnel. The tunnel was excavated not just only as shortcut, but for a man to see his girlfriend on the other side. This was also where the Grunt was hiding. Not only had he taken the parts from the company my dad worked, but he also had kidnapped a wingull named Peeko.
Me and Manami went inside the cave to confront.
He shot us a cocky grin “What? Are you coming? Come and get some.” We took a step closer and the grunt moved back with Peeko in his arm. We got closer and closer. We pushed him all the way back into to rocks blocking the path. “Grah, Keehaul it all! This hostage Pokemon turned out to be worthless!” I shook my head “No. It just because you're a Morceau de merde.” “What?” “Translation- A piece of shit.” “WHY YOU....I'LL MAKE YOU REGRET SAYING THOSE WORDS!” He quickly grabbed the Poke ball from his belt and sent out a Poochyena. “Manami use tackle.” Manami charged toward it. “Take the hit and then retaliate with bite!” As soon as Manami made contact, the hyena latched it fangs on to Manami's left arm...and I knew how felt it. The pain of that attack as it surges through both our arm and I knew why. Nilrem's curse did not transform the starter into another Pokemon, but he made so that all my father's ancestor blood would feel the pain of their starter Pokemon. I shook it off and focused on the battle “Manami, hit it with Mud Shot.” Manami fired sphere of mud at her target and knocked it off her arm and knocked unconcious.
The grunt recalled his Pokemon. “I'm not giving this up.” The grunt tossed Peeko at Manami knocking her off balance and ran toward the exit with the parts.
“Oh no you don’t” I opened my book and read the words. “Aiguille D'ombre.”
A small needle of dark blue appeared from nowhere. I pointed at the grunt 's leg and watched as it zipped through the air and pierced him in the patella. The grunt fell and howled in pain. Peeko flew out of the cave in a panic, leaving me, Manami, and the grunt.
She looked at me with bewildered look, “What was that?”
I grin at her “A new spell. Aiguille D’ombre.”
“When did you learn that?”
“Well, you see, after I earned the badge. I explain later. Right now, lets return these parts to my dad.”
The nurse took my Poke ball “Well have your Pokemon healed up in no time.”
“Thanks.” I headed over to the table where my dad was waiting at, “Man this was an interesting day.”
“I’ll say. Never thought we would get robbed. Thanks again for getting the part back.”
“You’re welcome.”
“So, how your journey?”
“Good,” I pulled out spell book and hold it up to his face, “I manage to earn my first badge.”
He looked at sphere in the center of the book and saw Stone badge floating up to the top of it, “Excellent. Way to go,”
“Thanks.”
“Now” The tone of his voice shifted from joyous to serious, “Let us talk about the curse.”
I let out a sigh. I knew this was coming. I told mom about it the spell wearing off last night.
“So, why didn’t you tell them?”
“Dad. I do not want to be a burden. I do not want them to throw their lives away because of me. Also, I do not want to guilt Manami because me.
“Son.”
“Beside, the curse can only our bloodline can break the curse. It can not be broken if somebody else does it.”
To be continued Zigzagoon became Quacklin farfetch'd lv 10 and Aria taillow becameJessica bunalby on the north of route 104 Candeza whismur became Cleo Cofferigus and Zelda skitty became Aldemar vulpix (There was a dupe because the first chance was a Mudkip.) on route 116 and from the tunnel I got Melody whismur became kecleon.
2 notes
·
View notes
Text
the infinite dance of stars and dust and all that falls between
[ The Witcher / Stardust AU ] - Read it on AO3 Pairing: Jaskier/Geralt Featuring: Star!Geralt, Cursed!Emhyr, Barren!Yennefer, Soft Boys!Regis & Dettlaff (eventually)
Decided to release this in chapters to help me feel productive and have obtainable goals, lmao. Should only be like 3 chapters though, I think. I don’t even know what else to say, hahaha, perhaps this is finally my mental breakdown. 🤔
“Would a coward or a cad vow to breach the Wall to retrieve that falling star for you?”
“Well, no—” She said, battering her lashes, thick and sooty against fair cheeks.
Jaskier gathered her slim hands in his, brushed them against his lips as he took a knee before her and thus vowed, “Then I take this oath to do just that, my lady. I will prove myself worthy of your affections. I will conquer the Wall and all that lies beyond it. I will fetch that falling star for you, bottle it in a bulb and make for you the most fantastic necklace anyone has ever seen. Then no one could question your beauty, your loveliness or my dedication to you – not with a star shining about your neck. You can consider it my betrothal gift. Surely that outshines any ring anyone else has offered.”
“If you bring me that star, I’m yours.”
Jaskier thought of those words often. Sometimes the memory thrilled him, knowing how brave his lady’s brilliance had made him. Sometimes the memory led to nothing but a string of invective curses that sent the birds sputtering from their branches. He was beyond the Wall , he reminded himself for the umpteenth time. The. Wall. Where witchcraft ruled and sorcerers sacrificed fair maidens and monsters lived off the flesh of mortals quite like himself – foolish young adventurers who lost their way, more often than not, and he didn’t even know where he was going to start with! Well… he didn’t know how to get back, specifically. Getting there wouldn’t be a problem – not with the candle his mother had left for him.
A candle that, once lit, could take him anywhere he wanted to go. Perhaps, if he were very lucky, there'd be enough left to get home after, too.
“Take me to the fallen star,” he whispered as he lit it, far enough away from the Wall and his village to be certain that no one had come to drag him back. He hadn’t been ready for the violence of that magic, lured into a sense of peace by an item as innocent as a candle. Jaskier hadn’t been prepared to be thrown through space as magic pinched the world, dragging him from just outside the wall across fields and rivers and miles of land, and forward into something hot and solid. The world stopped spinning, but he was most definitely no longer standing.
Jaskier scrambled up, hands catching on firm flesh and quite a lot of it. Not just flesh. Pectorals. A man’s chest. He lifted himself up, looked down at the body he had bulldozed in his mad, magic infused dash across the continent, and felt his breath stolen from his lungs. There was a man beneath him. A man, laid flat on his back, his head haloed in a circle of fine silver hair more akin to silk than the ill-kempt hair of most men. Fair skin, flawless and clear like a still pond. Eyes that shone like the sun, glimmering and unlike anything Jaskier had ever seen in a mortal man’s face before. A man spun from the sun and the stars and the sky itself. Beautiful and… vibrating? Ah wait, no ~ growling. That couldn’t be good.
Emhyr watched Queen Calanthe’s ruby - now a stone of white as beautiful and lovely as any star - jet off into the night. Three heads of noble bloodlines from across the globe all whipped to watch it disappear. And from her sickbed Calanthe merely grinned as though she had won some great game, looking so powerful and proud instead of small or dying. But she was, without doubt, dying. She eyed the male suitors of whom she had invited into her bedchambers and said from her sickbed, “Only one of you can wed my daughter, and while I will not yet survive the night to judge you fully as I should, instead I bequeath this quest. If you think yourself worthy of my daughter, you will find that ruby. If your touch returns its royal red color, the great many spells that Mousesack has bewitched upon the jewel will have deemed you worthy - and so it shall be done. But know this, only a man of royal blood can change that ruby’s color. A man of intellect, brave enough to lead this empire to glory. He must embody the spirit of a lion and more, and until such a man finds it, my daughter shall grow and lead in peace. Any attempt to force the ruby, to steal it from someone who rightfully changed it, or any other misleading act will see misfortune upon the liar so great, he will reach and wish for death, but never grasp it.”
Emhyr watched from behind the safety of his platemail and helm as Calanthe breathed her last, fully thinking her daughter’s path secured. Whether she live and lead alone or beside a man of proven worth, it did not matter. She would be spared the touch of the power hungry or malicious, and for Calanthe, that was enough.
And all the while, Emhyr knew a truth that even Calanthe did not understand. That Pavetta was his, promised to him by Calanthe’s late husband the king, and the key to restore his human flesh. In that moment he had no doubt that the ruby was meant for him and him alone, and while the royal suitors bickered amongst themselves, Emhyr discreetly saw himself out while none were looking. It was easy enough. He shouldn’t have been there anyways, as any of them saw it. He had requested an audience with the queen when news had spread of her imminent demise, no longer content to wait until Pavetta’s courting ball. Thankfully urgency had bid her ignore his helm. She assumed him another suitor - and did not worry. In her eyes, no man was fit for the stone anyway. So why worry? And the others saw only a knight, perhaps one favored by the queen. A man of no consequence.
Let them think that, it only served him in the end.
Emhyr took the fastest horse from the stable and set off in the direction the jewel had gone.
The witches of Aretuza - or what remained of them - stood atop their mountain dwelling, surrounded by crisp white moonflowers before the pale fall of the moon itself, and watched the stars just as their scrying had bid them to. Ahead of them all, Tessaia stood with ancient hands clasped behind her back - spine rigid and strict despite the way that age and abuse of magic had wilted her.
“There,” she breathed as finally it happened. A faint white gem shot into the night. With a burst, it collided with the ageless lights twinkling above and just as predicted, a star fell from the fabric of the night above. She watched it fall, watched it disappear far into the distance. But she had a direction, that was all that mattered.
Behind her, ancient and weathered faces were alight with hunger and hope. For the witches of Aretuza had squandered their power for eons in the name of researching and controlling chaos, and in doing so had also paid a great and terrible price - their health, their beauty.
Of the four witches that stood atop the mountain, only one had not been touched by time. Yennefer. Tall, slender, and beautiful, she stepped forward to peer off in the direction the star had fallen. She was too young to need it, too new to the ways in which the women of Aretuza abused magic to understand its use. But she knew why they would want it - what lord or king would listen to a withered old hag? They needed youth to continue controlling the free world, to continue shaping it.
But Yennefer had different plans. Revenge and salvation all in one.
“I will go after it,” she offered, enthusiasm masked beneath a weaving lie of loyalty. But in this moment, no lie could stand - for the witches of Aretuza trusted not even one another when it came to the power of stars.
“No,” Tessaia said, “I will go. As leader of this school, it is my right to fetch it.”
Yennefer watched them squabble and bicker. Watched as they drew from deep in the reaches of Aretuza’s stronghold a simple black box. Its lid was lifted and from within, a brilliant light - nearly painful to gaze upon were it not so small - bled out from the cracks and crevices. Tessaia took the brilliant little flame in hand and deftly ate it, beauty blooming from within and spreading without until her hair regrew again, and her skin pulled taut and rosy. Suddenly there were two young, beautiful women among the four leaders of Aretuza. Which was dangerous. Incredibly so.
Tessaia ordered that the school continue its teachings, packed a bag, selected a mount, and disappeared into the night. It was simple enough for Yennefer disappear after that - no one but Tessaia had ever considered her to be a threat, after all.
And Yennefer wanted something more keenly than any witch seeking pure beauty could ever understand, for she had already suffered the consequences of shallow dreams already. Aretuza had used the allure of beauty to steal the life from her womb, to control her. And never again would Yennefer fall for such a trick again. She’d take the star before any Aretuza witch could so much as look at it, and in doing so she’d steal from them something as precious as they had stolen from her: their opportunity to restore what they had squandered. And perhaps, with a little luck, something more as well. Something priceless.
“Get. Off,” the stranger beneath him snarled so viciously that Jaskier could feel the man’s chest rumbling beneath his fingers.
“Oh? Oh!” He stuttered, picking himself up quickly. “My apologies, I’m afraid that was my first time using a magic… candle…”
Which reminded him - the candle was still in his hand, half the size but still present. It could likely get him back, a boon that nearly stole the strength from his knees in relief. The thought of wandering however far back had been a daunting one. He tucked it delicately away, eyes darting to the stranger he had none too kindly cannonballed mere moments ago. He was a strange one, that was for certain. Taller than Jaskier, though not outrageously so. He had the build of a warrior, and yet he wore something that nearly looked like high waisted silver silk trousers and a thin, wispy white blouse of a shirt. The clothing was pale, nearly glowing in the light, and despite the mundane and simple tailoring of it all, it looked ethereal. Otherworldly, even.
And about his neck, contrasting greatly with his simple clothing, was a thick band of gold topped off with one of the largest diamonds that Jaskier had ever seen. All in all, between the dark grimace, the intimidating bulk, soft clothing and expensive amulet, the man was a painting of conundrums and contradictions. Jaskier almost didn’t even know where to begin.
“I, uh - what are you doing in a place like this?” He finally asked when the man began pacing, eyes up on the night sky with a fierce scowl. A place like this, specifically, meaning a crater. A black, smoldering hole in the forest that had torn trees straight up from their roots and obliterated the ground for miles. Almost as though… Jaskier jumped, suddenly spinning wildly around as he looked, “Oh! Have you seen a fallen star, by the way?”
The man suddenly stilled and glared at him, jaw set tight.
“Hilarious,” he grunted.
“No really, a star should have fallen over here somewhere,” Jaskier said seriously as he began to pace, looking for any sign of a rock - anything that might look like a star. Did they still glow when they fell, he wondered. Would it be large or small? Large, he assumed, based off the crater, and yet nothing stood out at all. Not so much as one pebble, even. He frowned and crossed his arms with a soft, wondering, “How odd…”
The stranger glared up at the sky as though daring the gods - or perhaps the stars - to laugh before he rubbed his palms on his trousers and said, “You already found it.”
“I did?” Jaskier asked with owlish eyes, suddenly patting his pockets in case he had in fact found it and merely forgot somehow. But nothing felt new or out of place. “Are you certain?”
“Quite certain,” the man said, taking a step forward only to wince. Albeit not so much a wince as a delicate flinching of the muscles in his jaw. Jaskier turned to him, lips drawn in a worried line.
“Did I hurt you when I…?”
“You, no,” the man snarled, trying to take another step with a steadily growing growl of irritation. He managed to place more weight on it, but seemed frustrated despite the small success. “No, some stuck up royal bastard threw an enchanted rock into the sky and knocked me down.”
Jaskier put his hands on his hips, impressed, and asked, “Are you a writer?”
The man gave him a baffled, irked look and with a snort continued applying pressure to his ankle. Slowly, as the moment hung between them, Jaskier felt his jaw loosen and drop.
“You’re quite serious, aren’t you?”
“Not known for being much else.”
“ You’re the bloody star!” Jaskier exclaimed, eyes darting up as though he might see an obvious mark in the night where the stranger had once hung.
“I’m the bloody star,” the man agreed, one tooth exposed by the angry curl of his lip.
Jaskier leaned back, staring at the man seriously for a pregnant moment that left the stranger looking somewhat uncomfortable, before he finally threw his hands out at his sides and declared, “How could I have been so blind! Of course you are the star! How else might one explain you? Your hair made of starlight as it is, your skin as flawless as the purest marble - and the sense of you, where do I even begin? Of course you’re the star.”
The stranger looked at him as though Jaskier were the one injured, not he, and asked, “I think that candle scrambled your brains more than the fall scrambled mine.”
Jaskier walked forward suddenly, one hand thrust out as he said with a charming smile, “I am Jaskier, the infamous bard of the village of Wall and soon to be the husband of the most lovely countess ever to exist. A pleasure,” as though the star had not just questioned his sanity.
With a confused little frown between his brows, the star slowly took his outstretched hand and said, “Geralt,” only for his confusion to bleed away to fury when the bard deftly slipped a chain of silver around his wrist and jumped back, a delicate line of twinkling silver hanging between them. Geralt watched the loop around his wrist close seamlessly, then yanked only to scowl when the chain didn’t break. Jaskier stumbled a step closer as a result, however, before bolting back again with a sheepish, “I’m sorry, Geralt - lovely name by the way - but I’m afraid I must insist you come to Wall with me. I promised my dear Victoria a star, you see, and if I don’t bring you to her she’ll never marry me.”
Geralt stared at him for a very, very long time before yanking the chain again, sending Jaskier sputtering into the dirt.
“Hey!” He gasped, struggling onto his elbows, hands grasping on the chain for dear life - but Geralt was already walking away, dragging the bard with him through the dirt despite the way his ankle flagged his steps. “Hey!”
“What?” Geralt grunted, otherwise ignoring the way the bard flailed behind him, dragging him along with an ease that definitely proved without a shadow of a doubt that he was no mere man.
“Wall is the other way!”
“I’m not going to Wall.”
“What!” Jaskier squawked, “But Victoria-”
“-Not my problem.”
“And where are you - ah, rock! - going to go, huh? Last I checked, there’s no staircase to heaven!” Jaskier snarled ferally as he was dragged over rocks and broken bits of trees.
“I’ll figure it out,” Geralt mumbled distractedly, as though Jaskier’s arguments and struggling were of no real consequence to him as he kept walking, eyes scanning.
“But I need to present you to Victoria!”
“Again, not my problem.”
“Yes, well, I…” Jaskier grimaced as the candle dug into his hip in his pocket, then suddenly grinned, “Oh! Let’s make a deal!”
“Not interested,” Geralt grunted.
“No truly, star, I swear you’ll want to hear me out!”
With a sigh, Geralt stopped - eyes drifting to the heavens again out of sheer sour exasperation, before he finally turned to glare down at the bard being dragged behind him and ground out a short, “Twenty seconds.”
Sensing an opening, Jaskier quickly scrambled to right himself into a better sitting position.
“Don’t even need that. You come with me to Wall and I,” Jaskier said, pausing for theatrical effect as he reached into his pocket, “Will give you this .”
He presented his black Babylon Candle with a flourish and a knowing grin, and if anything Geralt’s jaw just tightened - annoyed that the bard was right. He did have something of use. It was small for a Babylon Candle. Used once already. But it would be enough to get him back into the night sky, and that was hardly an offer he could turn away from. His scowl darkened, amber eyes darting up from the candle to search Jaskier’s face.
The world wasn’t safe for stars, Geralt knew this. He had seen what witches and wizards and men did with their hearts first hand. But either the bard in front of his was a spectacular liar or he had no idea the sort of power Geralt had locked away inside his chest. And so long as Geralt was careful, there was no reason why that would ever change.
“Alright,” he finally groused. “I’ll go with you to Wall, meet your Victoria - but after that, the candle is mine.”
“Agreed,” Jaskier said with a grin, bouncing up from the ground and onto his heels. Then, with a gentle tug, he announced, “Then off to Wall!”
#the witcher#geraskier#stardust au#geralt of rivia#jaskier#yennefer of vengerberg#Emhyr var Emreis#star!geralt#Witcher Writing
27 notes
·
View notes
Text
The Science Behind a Psychic Scream; via my brain knowledge and some crash course videos compiled into a document that hopefully makes sense
Psychic Scream
Hypothesis: If the Psychic Scream can force a fight or flight response for a short, controlled amount of time, then the way in which it triggers the chemical response can be classified as a physical effect on both the caster and the victim as well as the environment around them.
It’s Physical:
Fun Fact: The name of the spell, ‘Psychic Scream’, can be called an oxymoron because of the two words’ official definitions. Psychic, relating to something not physical [adjective;“relating to or denoting faculties or phenomena that are apparently inexplicable by natural laws, especially involving telepathy or clairvoyance.|relating to the soul or mind.|noun;a person considered or claiming to have psychic powers; a medium.”] and Scream, something physical [verb;“give a long, loud, piercing cry or cries expressing excitement, great emotion, or pain.|noun;a long, loud, piercing cry expressing extreme emotion or pain.”].
Now, to project and permeate a scream far enough into someone’s mind seems a bit… outlandish and ridiculous, if you ask me. But, I think I can manage to explain it using aspects of physics, vibrations, and frequencies.
To scream would mean a sound, a real sound that is carried by soundwaves and vibrations- so right off the bat, the word ‘scream’ has to be classified as physical because it’s something you can hear and react to. Reacting and sensing are physical. The initial action is physical- in game, the caster projects a shout, using their magic to trigger a fight or flight response within his enemies as an area of effect.
And by shout I mean a literal shout. You’re not the dragonborn, calm down. Parthurnax isn’t about to bestow some wisdom of The Voice into your brain- that’s not how it works here.
Now we know that the Psychic Scream has to project a physical sound with a mental side effect because of the way it triggers the fight or flight response so easily. You can imagine a scream in your head, but would it really scare you that much? [bear with me, ‘fight or flight’ comes up a lot here because that’s exactly what we’re trying to tie the physicality into.]
Soundwaves are physical vibrational frequencies that are created by particles moving back and forth in the air so fast it creates a directional wave. For our case and for the regular shape and range for the spell, the Psychic Scream would be a Spherical Wave with intense oscillation (vibration) with its starting point being the caster themselves. From there the waves would fan outward- but there’s one problem.
Soundwaves usually get weaker as they travel outward and even slow when they pass through things- this could be a potential reason the Psychic Scream’s effects only last eight seconds. But at the same time, it has a max range of eight yards. So the scream would have to be super powerful and super loud to output the intended effect- make your enemy flee.
So how can this sound from, for example, a normal human, be amplified to such a drastic effect?
Magic. Obviously.
I won’t get into the science of Azerothian magic, I don’t think I’m equipped enough to handle that right now- but what I can explain is the Doppler Effect and how it works in our favor here.
The Doppler Effect is the difference between pitches by distance. [This can also be used for light and measuring the distance of stars, but we’re not talking about that right now.] For example; the town crier is yelling about something stupid going on in Stormwind’s cheese industry. The farther she is away from you the quieter the sound will be because the soundwaves aren’t as strong as opposed to her being directly in front of you, yelling in your face while her minty, breathy sound waves bounce off of your physical form and vibrate your eardrums so our brains can actually process the sound and hear what she’s saying at a pitch loud enough to irritate the hell us.
So how does this tie in with the Psychic Scream? You ask, desperately wanting to be untied from the chair I’ve put you in so I have someone to ramble to about the science of a video game.
Well, lucky stranger! It has to do with the pitch of the Psychic Scream being loud enough to trigger a neural response in your amygdala, the ‘fear circuit’ of your brain. The amygdala is triggered when a sound that scares you vibrates through your eardrum and your brain processes the sound as BadTM, which then triggers a neurological response.
You see, humans can comfortably hear things from one picowatt [one million millionth of a watt] per square meter to one watt [the SI unit of power, equivalent to one joule per second, corresponding to the power in an electric circuit in which the potential difference is one volt and the current one ampere.] per square meter. To use real life examples, this range of pico-to-watt is the equivalent of a rock concert. What’s very unsafe for humans to be subjected to is one-hundred watts per square meter, which is the sound of being thirty meters away from a jet plane.
((You know, there’s a reason alarms wake us up. They’re loud enough [standard alarm clock is eighty decibels] to scare our body awake, but not loud enough to hurt us or trigger an active fear response such as… well… running away, like Psychic Screams do.))
So again- we know that Azerothian magic in priests and such can use minor wonders from their DND sets to amplify their voice as well as summon unspeakable horrors to the void, and maybe even pull screams from the Twisting Nether just to screw with you- but that won’t change the fact that the initial scream from the caster is a physical thing that happens in game to begin the process of the chain reaction that is the Psychic Scream spell.
Let’s break down the physical process-
We’ll use my priest man Anden.
For one, when you activate the spell Anden will shout, bend backwards a little and point his face upward. Up. The given point for the spherical sound wave to travel will start above his head and move outward to cover the maximum range of eight yards. This ensnares the victims in the sound and causes them to run away. Saying it again- I tell you, triggering the fight or flight response.
From his hands there will be a little burst of shadow magic, which confirms our potential ‘amplification’ spell to enhance the original, physical shout/scream.
That’s where we end our physical journey.
TLDR: Soundwaves exist in all noises- especially a scream where it involves physical vibration to even process a sound. And for a scream to affect a person enough to scare them and make them run it would have to be a spell-amplified scream above the normal yelling level to have victims be properly affected by the scream itself.
Bill Nye Neurological Process Guy
So, now that we have the physics down, we can move onto how the scream actually affects the brain and why it makes the victims run.
Imagine this- Anden has just released the Psychic Scream and you can somehow see the soundwaves heading right for you. The sound travels into your ears and vibrates super hard, because it is super loud, right against your eardrum- and you’re suddenly struck with heart-palpitating dread as well as the intense feeling to RUN. So you do that. But why? How can fight or flight be triggered by a scream, even if it is amplified?
I’m a battle-hardened warrior, Tiny, you say very annoyed at me, screams don’t bother me.
Well friend, this isn’t a normal scream. As evident from the spell, using the void alongside the scream can somehow push a neurological response onto you, forcing you to run away for the amount of time it takes for the full soundwave to pass through you. Eight yards, eight seconds. Once you’re out of the range, the spell should wear off even if the caster isn’t wailing anymore.
Have I tacked on that Psychic Scream is also a defensive spell? Why are you attacking a priest anyways? Stress can kill, you know!
So, anyways, back to the forced response. We all know what screams sound like- in movies and such, in real life. Our brain helps us distinguish between the screams of pure, agonizing horror or pain- or the shrieks and screams of playing children. A sudden noise, like a scream, is so surprising to hear and causes more shock than paralyzing fear because of the sudden increase in volume. A scream can go from soft to loud 150 times per second. Wild, innit?
But if you hear this really loud scream coming at you and it suddenly triggers an immense amount of bad stress to be released from your amygdala- what I mentioned earlier- and not eustress, the type of stress that makes your nervous system go haywire and cut off blood from certain parts of your body to provide blood to others to get you out of some sort of life threatening situation even if it’s not life threatening.
… stress can kill, kids.
[The Super Sciency Version That I Managed to Pull From Old Textbooks and Notes And Some Crash Course Videos]
To make you move on your own like this your brain has to send action potentials[the change in electrical potential associated with the passage of an impulse along the membrane of a muscle cell or nerve cell.] down your spinal cord and into the preganglionic neuronal axons. [at its most basic form, preganglionic fibers are fibers from your central nervous system.] The signals firing go all the way to their ganglia, which is a structure containing nerve cells linked by synapses. Once they reach their destination they release neurotransmitters called acetylcholine or ACh. Acetylcholine is a standard neurotransmitter used throughout your entire sympathetic nervous system. If enough ACh manages to send enough signals to stimulate action potentials in several neurons on the postganglionic fibers, the other end of the preganglionic fibers.
The postganglionic neurons then carry the action potentials down to the appropriate muscles, in our case- your hip and leg muscles. The postganglionic releases another neurotransmitter called norepinephrine, which is always the one transmitter released from postganglionic fibers in your sympathetic nervous system. Norepinephrine is always the one to activate the certain muscles you need to move and open up blood vessels to- again, hip and leg muscles.
Norepinephrine is the neurotransmitter that can open up blood flow for muscles like your hollow organs(stomach,bladder,liver) and limbs and the Norepinephrine hormone can halt the blood flow to smooth muscles like your hollow organs.
I know, this is a lot of science jargon. Trust me, I never used to understand it either.
So basically, the priest throwing this Psychic Scream at you is forcing your Central and Sympathetic Nervous System to react to a threat that it created to scare your body enough to turn around and run.
The one good thing about running away is that you’ll be out of the Psychic Scream’s range, which means even if they keep screaming and you’re like, ten yards away from them, it’ll be loud- probably a bit of a concussive blast depending on the power of the amplification spell- but you won’t be forced to run.
Now For The Big Question
Can a Psychic Scream affect the environment around you?
Or more specifically, (the one I’m trying to answer here)
Can a Psychic Scream shatter glass?
Let’s go back to the physics of a soundwave- and then talk about resonance frequencies including glass.
Pitches can change depending on distance. Vibrations can get faster the closer you are to something. So hypothetically, physically, Yes! You can shatter windows with a Psychic Scream loud enough, powerful enough, and close enough to windows for even the slightest potential.
If you flick a wine glass, for example, there will be a certain resonance/pitch that humans can actually match, and if you hover your mouth next to the glass and mirror that pitch for a while with your voice, the glass will break!
The thing about Psychic Scream being able to break windows is one) it’s a spherical sound wave which travels outward- but needed to do so will include a concussive blast that fractures and vibrates against the glass, applying more and more pressure as soundwaves do. But to do this, the caster would need to emit a blast and pitch that’s ultrasonic, which humans can't hear, and hold that pitch and force until the window breaks.
So that’s pretty much the only downside. You’ll have to be fighting some giant monster to produce a Scream that is damaging. You can’t really do it normally. Which brings me to the final question!
Can There Be A Physical Limitation?
For our priest’s poor vocal cords, using an amplification to the scream could cause damage if used for more than a few seconds. Psychic Scream is a scream that can force a fight or flight response- and that in itself needs to be incredibly loud. Screaming or yelling in general isn’t good for your vocal cords, so we can assume that this poor priest’s voice is going to be hoarse no matter how long he uses it.
Whilst using Psychic Scream, holding the noise for an extended amount of time could drain up your oxygen, and light-headedness to fainting is possible. Ten seconds max, people! Breathing is important!
Well… we don’t need to talk about the physical limitations of using the void for too long, I think that’s pretty evident.
I don’t really like people whispering in my ears for a few hours just ‘cause I wanted to scream at someone for a few minutes.
8 notes
·
View notes