#i wrote this on the fly so I hope it's satisfactory | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

wefoundloveunderthelight · 3 years

Text

Truth or Dare by GleefullyCaptainSwan

Chapter 1 of 1

Read on AO3 or on FF

Stacy's Tortured Crew: @teamhook @kmomof4 @stahlop @lfh1226-linda @ilovemesomekillianjones @itsfabianadocarmo @mariakov81 @qualitycoffeethings @zaharadessert @jrob64 @jonesfandomfanatic @natascha-ronin @tiganasummertree @xarandomdreamx @therooksshiningknight @batana54 @superchocovian @onceratheart18 @ultraluckycatnd @snowbellewells @karlyfr13s @the-darkdragonfly @xsajx @deckerstarblanche @jonesfandomfanatic @winterbaby89

Summary: When David Nolan sends Emma Swan and Killian Jones on a simple overnight business trip to Denver, the two just want to take care of negotiations and return home. But the storm of the century has other plans as they embark on a night of discovery, learning more about their co-worker than either anticipated.

Notes: This fic really has no point, I've been in a weird place, my WIPs are going nowhere so I wrote this one for fun to shake the cobwebs, so I hope you enjoy this little smutty trip to Denver.

Truth or Dare

“So, I’m going to need to send someone to Denver tomorrow.” Everyone in the room groaned and Emma tried to sink down in her chair. She hoped by making herself smaller, David wouldn’t see her, wouldn’t select her to travel this weekend. It’s not like she had plans, except to maybe binge watch the next few episodes of Bridgerton before Season 2 started up.

“Emma, I really need you there.” She internally groaned but smiled at her boss.

“Of course, I’m all over it, you can count on me, Boss.” He nodded and then turned his head to the other side of the large table.

“Killian, your input might be of use here.”

Emma wanted to slide under the table. Why on earth would David send Killian with her?

“Sir?”

“I think it’s important for you to provide your marketing experience to the executives.”

“Of course.” He remarked and Emma rolled her eyes, she didn’t need Killian’s experience in anything, she could handle a simple business negotiation without him but who was she to argue with David Nolan?

Emma stood from the table and hurried back to her office to book her travel. The moment she closed her door it opened behind her.

“Do you fly United, love?”

Her eyes literally rolled back in her head before she turned around. She looked up to see Killian Jones standing in her doorway. “You already know that’s the preferred partner of Nolan Industries.”

“I can book the hotel if you book the flight, might be easier if we divide and conquer on such short notice.”

“Yeah whatever.” She said, barely looking in his direction as she sat down at her desk.

“Alright, well, just email me the flight information. Did you need a ride to the airport tomorrow?”

“I can get there myself.” She said shortly, hoping he would just leave but realizing he was still standing in her doorframe. She sighed and then looked up to meet his gaze. “I’ll just meet you there.”

He smiled hesitantly as he finally started to leave. “Sure, sounds good. See you tomorrow.”

Emma kept her eyes on the screen in front of her, the last thing she needed to think about was a whole weekend alone with Killian Jones.

It wasn’t that she hated him, he seemed nice enough, she just didn’t spend a lot of time getting to know the people in her office, choosing instead to spend her time alone in her apartment after work, curled up with a glass of wine and a good book.

Killian had started working for the company about two years ago and while every woman at the company tripped over themselves to get to know him, she had better things to do.

Now she was going to have to spend an entire weekend alone with him in Denver. Her only hope was that the negotiations would be simple, and she would be back in her hotel room before he got on her nerves or even worse, tried to get to know her better.

~*~

Killian stared out the window as the plane made it’s decent. He hadn’t expected David to pick him for this trip, yet here he was, landing in Denver to negotiate an important deal for the company. Things were finally looking up for him professionally.

He could see the blonde hair of his travel partner from the top of her seat. He wasn’t surprised to find that Emma had booked his seat three rows behind her instead of beside her. They weren’t exactly acquaintances, in fact, Killian had yet to really make an impact on the woman since joining the company two years ago.

Not for lack of trying on his part, yet she seemed disinterested in talking to him beyond the occasional “how was your weekend” question as they passed each other in the hallway. Normally it didn’t take much for a woman to show interest in talking to him, generally he spent more time running from the women in his office than he did chasing one. This made Emma Swan intriguing, infuriating, and somewhat of an enigma to him.

They sat in silence on the cab ride to the hotel, large flakes of snow falling all around them outside the car.

“It’s the storm of the century.” The cab driver lamented. “Can’t say I’ve seen worse weather in all my time living here.”

“Wonderful.” Emma complained beside him.

“They’re saying the power is out all over town. I’ll be surprised if your hotel even has heat.”

“I’m sorry what?” Emma raised her voice and Killian reached out to still the woman beside him.

“I’m sure it’s fine, Swan.”

“How do you know; you are arriving at the same time as me?”

“Storm of the century.” He smirked, staring at her in annoyance, there was nothing he was going to say to put her at ease. And to his utter chagrin, when they arrived at the hotel he was quick to notice that the entrance was filled with candles, lighting the way to the front desk.

“So, it’s not fine then.” She remarked sarcastically as he held the door open for her.

It was going to be a bloody long weekend.

~*~

Emma looked around the lobby of the mostly dark hotel. Of course she would be traveling to Denver in the middle of a snowstorm. They had received a phone call letting them know that due to the weather, the meeting had been delayed until the morning, so now all she wanted to do was to get to her room, climb under the covers, forget about the entire trip, and go to bed early.

Killian approached her after talking to the desk clerk and she could already see from the look on his face, she wasn’t going to like what he had to say. “Alright Swan, do you want the good news or the bad news?”

She stared at her traveling partner in disgust. “Why is there bad news?”

“Storm of the century.” He said matter-of-factly, a smirk on his face.

“Fine, good news first.”

“Due to the storm, the restaurant isn’t open tonight, however they are providing dinner to our rooms for free, and the bar is included in the room service.”

“Lovely, then what is the bad news?” She scowled.

“Well love, apparently there was some sort of mix up in the reservation and well…”

She stared at his face, the frown growing on her lips as he hesitated to share whatever horrid news he had. “Spit it out, Jones.”

“They only had one room and well due to the storm, they are booked solid.” He held up the key in front of her. “So…roommate?”

Emma groaned loudly. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“I assure you love; I would not joke about such a thing.” He tried to smile but Emma could see he was just as anxious as she was about the situation they were in.

“Fine, we’ll share the room.” She stated begrudgingly, following him up the stairs toward their floor. She was happy that they only had to climb three flights instead of higher into the darkness.

By the time he pushed the door open on room 322, she wanted to just hop in the shower and forget the entire debacle, however the moment she saw the room her heart dropped.

“It’s only got one bed, Jones.” She growled.

“About that, Swan…did I forget to mention the bed situation?”

“Bed Situation? This is more than a bed situation; this is a nightmare.” She complained, dropping her bag on the floor.

“I’ll take the floor, no need to worry. Everything will work itself out.” He shrugged, setting his bag in the corner, and lighting a few of the candles the hotel had offered them.

Emma sighed. “Fine. But I have dibs on the shower first.”

“As you wish, I hope a grilled cheese is satisfactory for dinner? They didn’t have a lot of options.”

Emma exhaled harshly, at least dinner would be to her liking, but she didn’t want to tell Killian that. He was the one who screwed up the reservation after all. She knew she should have planned her own trip. “It will do.” She said shortly as she stepped into the bathroom, closing the door behind her.

~*~

Killian set the food out on the table, listening to the shower still running in the bathroom. The last thing he expected on this trip was to be sharing a room with Emma Swan, The Ice Princess of the Boardroom.

The bathroom door opened, and Emma stepped out in a pair of sweats and a t-shirt, her wet hair was pulled up into a towel on top of her head. He had never seen her look so relaxed outside of the office.

“Dinner is served, though it seems a bit cold.” He shrugged. “I supposed I’ll shower now since it won’t affect the temperature of the food if I wait or not.”

He retreated to the bathroom, quickly closing the door behind him to step into the hot shower and wash away the stress of the trip. He knew it wouldn’t be long until all the hot water was gone.

To be honest, the trip wasn’t a total nightmare. It wasn’t that he minded traveling for Nolan Industries, he had been grateful to David Nolan for taking him on, glad that there were still people willing to put their trust in him after what had happened at Gold Enterprises.

But being stuck in this hotel room with Emma Swan in the middle of the storm of the century was going to take more than just grilled cheese and some blankets on the floor for the trip not to end in a nightmare. He heard a knock on the door and quickly dried off to dress for the night.

When he left the bathroom, he saw the bottle of rum sitting on the table as Emma sat chewing on her sandwich. “You ordered rum? Really?”

“Figured it would keep us warm without the heat.”

“You want to drink a bottle of rum? With no mixers?”

“Sorry Princess, they didn’t have anything else. No need to partake if you can’t handle it.” He groused.

“I didn’t say I couldn’t handle it.” She scoffed defiantly.

They sat through dinner in an uncomfortable silence, chewing their food while ignoring the tight quarters they were being forced to share. He reached for the bottle and poured two glasses. “What do you say? Wanna play a game, love?”

“Excuse me?”

“Fancy a drinking game…unless you have a better idea? Never have I ever?”

“What are you twelve years old?” She laughed, reaching out to take her glass from the table and looking around the room as if she were considering her options.

“Come now, lass, I’ll start…” He paused. “Never have I ever played a drinking game while sitting in the dark with a co-worker.” He quickly took a drink. He watched as she looked at him in confusion. When she didn’t drink he exhaled. “If you’ve done it, you have to drink, Swan.”

“I know how to play the game.” She said dryly, putting the glass to her lips as she swallowed the liquid, her face immediately puckering. “God that’s not even good rum.”

“Beggars can’t be choosers; it warms the blood.” Emma wrapped the blanket around her shoulders.

“Fine, never have I ever gotten a tattoo.” She sat her glass on the table watching him suspiciously. He lifted the glass to his lips and took a sip. “Seriously? Where?”

He lifted his sleeve, showing the ship’s anchor on his shoulder. “Got it when I turned 18.”

“An anchor?”

“Aye, my brother Liam, he was in the Navy when he passed.” Her face dropped.

“Oh, I’m sorry, I had no idea.”

“No harm, lass.” He lowered his sleeve and thought about his next question, wanting to change the topic. “Never have I ever been in love.” After he took a drink, he was surprised when she didn’t. “Bullshit.” He scoffed.

“What? I haven’t.”

“It’s hardly a fair game if you aren’t going to be honest.”

“I am being honest; I’ve never been in love.” She stood up from the table and walked over to the bed. “This is a stupid game, let’s play something else.” She took another drink from her glass.

“Fine, truth or dare, love?”

She giggled loudly, “You’re kidding right? Do you play anything that’s not meant for high school students?” She sighed. “Fine, truth it is, but this is ridiculous.”

~*~

After the third question, Emma was starting to feel the alcohol spinning in her head. “Ok Jones, truth or dare?”

“Let’s shake things up, I’ll take a dare.”

“Oooh, brave.” She giggled and then thought about her options before coming up with something delicious. “Ok then, I dare you to go into the hall, knock on a door of your choosing, and flirt with whoever answers. Gender doesn’t matter.”

“That’s all you’ve got? Dare accepted.” He jumped up from his chair and peeked into the hallway, knocking on the door directly across the hall. The door slammed shut and she jumped up from the bed, peering through the peephole. She could hear his voice on the other side as an elderly woman opened the door.

“Good evening, gorgeous.”

“Can I help you, son?”

“With the storms brewing I thought I would check in on you, make sure that you are doing alright, love.”

“What are you playing at?” The woman asked with a cranky tone.

“I would hate a lovely lass such as yourself to find herself alone and without warmth on a night like tonight. Perhaps you are in need of some company, if you know what I mean?”

Emma put a hand over her mouth to stifle the laugh that escaped, pushing away from the door when Killian returned to the room, his hair and shirt soaking wet. “What happened?”

“Can you believe it; she threw a glass of water on me. Apparently she was not in the need of any company.” He said exasperatedly. Emma couldn’t contain her laughter until he tore the shirt over his head and tossed it to the ground. She swallowed hard as she stared at his naked torso, dark tendrils of hair covering his chest. She climbed back on the bed, dragging the pillow over her lap as she tried to hunker down into the mattress.

Killian plunked down into his chair and stared at her. “Your turn love.” He sighed, finishing his glass of rum, and pouring another round. He held the bottle up to her and she leaned forward, holding her glass up for him to fill. She knew she shouldn’t continue drinking but there was nothing else for the two of them to do anyway.

“I’m not ready for payback, so I’ll choose truth.” She shrugged.

“Have you ever cheated on a partner?”

“That was a waste of a question, never. I wouldn’t do that to someone I was with.” She took a sip of her drink and gestured for him to take his turn.

“Alright love, give me your best truth question.”

Emma bit her lip. “What happened to your brother?”

He seemed surprised by her question, taking a long sip of his drink. “Um…” He paused, almost hesitant to continue. “It was a training incident, his unit got cut off from the rest of the group and he made the call to save his team instead of returning to his family.”

Emma watched as he spoke with sincerity and sadness. Maybe it was the alcohol, but she had never seen Killian seem so genuine before. She almost felt guilty for the way she had been behaving toward him all day, none of this had been his fault, unless he was somehow responsible for the weather.

“He will always be a hero to me.” He lifted his glass and toasted toward the sky. Emma sat in silence, taking a sip of her drink in support. “Alright Swan, your turn.”

“I’ll stay with truth.” She smiled.

He narrowed his eyes. “What’s the most recent lie you’ve told?”

Emma stared at her feet, rocking back in the bed, she bit her lip as she contemplated her answer. “Fine, maybe I have been in love. Once.” She took another drink of her alcohol.

“Why lie about that, lass?”

“I don’t know, I guess being in love with Neal is a piece of my history that is more embarrassing to admit. I mean, he played me, he made me feel like a total idiot.”

“Honestly, I always thought Neal was kind of a douche.”

She cackled loudly. “He was a terrible person but an even worse lover.” She snorted as if she had just told her girlfriend a close secret.

“You alright there, love?” He asked as she buried her face in her pillow. She pulled the pillow away and stared at him.

“Who were you in love with?”

“Sorry?”

“You drank on that question, so who were you in love with?”

“I’m not the one who chose truth, love. That was your question, not mine.” He took another drink before getting up from the table and sitting on the floor. “Alright, bring it on, Swan. Dare.”

~*~

“Truth.”

“Hmm…” He pursed his lips and took another drink. “Best orgasm you’ve ever had?” His eyes never left her face as he watched her cheeks blush.

“Oh God no, no, no, can I change to dare instead?” She laughed, her face looking on in horror.

“I think that’s against the rules, but I’ll allow it.” He brushed his fingers against the stubble at his jaw. “Ok, Swan, I dare you to serenade me with your favorite song.”

“Oh God, I can’t sing…”

“Either you answer the question or give me your best Beyonce. Come on Swan, I believe in you.” He teased with a wink.

Emma took a long swig of her drink and stood up on the bed. “Oh God I can’t believe I’m doing this.” She covered her face with her hands and Killian couldn’t help but recognize how beautiful the woman truly was.

And then she sang, in the loudest voice she could muster, so loud that he half expected the grumpy old woman across the hall to come banging on their door.

“Kiss me beneath the milky twilight

Lead me out on the moonlit floor

Lift your open hand, strike up the band

And make the fireflies dance, silver moon's sparkling

So kiss me”

She held her arms out as she finished her last note and then collapsed on the bed, burying her face in the sheets. “Oh my God I can’t believe I just did that.”

He clapped loudly, holding his drink up toward her. “Well done, Swan. Truly remarkable, loud, but remarkable.”

~*~

After a couple of hours, Emma was starting to feel like she was getting a better understanding of Killian Jones. With each question he shared more of his personality, something that was starting to intrigue her. But…she felt like he was holding something back. She thought about her next question, asking before he finished his glass.

“Why did you leave Gold Enterprises?” She immediately saw the way he flinched at the question. She expected it honestly, the details surrounding Killian’s previous employer was shrouded in mystery. David had only shared that Gold Enterprises loss was Nolan Industries gain.

“Bloody hell, a little bit of alcohol and you go right for the jugular.”

“Are you choosing dare instead?” She asked with a tight smile.

“Fair is fair…” He sucked in a deep breath. “I guess the truth is I wasn’t really given a choice to stay.”

“So, you were fired?” She asked, confirming her earlier suspicion.

“Aye, but to be fair, it was a fate I deserved.”

“Stealing from the company?” She joked.

“You’re not far off.” He said seriously and Emma’s mouth dropped open. She was not expecting that.

“Wait, seriously? You stole from the company and David still hired you?”

“Not from the company, love.” He poured another glass of rum. “I suppose you could say I stole from Mr. Gold.”

“You stole money from Robert Gold?” She asked, a complete feeling of shock overwhelming her.

“Not money, but something he treated with just as much disregard.” He responded sadly. “Robert’s wife, Milah Gold.”

“Oh my God, you had an affair with the boss’s wife?” She dropped the pillow into her lap.

“It’s not as nefarious as you might think. I didn’t seek out an affair, I never intended something so distasteful. You remember when you asked me who the woman was that I loved from our earlier question? Milah was that woman.” He said solemnly.

“I’m guessing you got caught, hence Gold firing you.”

“I wasn’t aware she was Robert’s wife. We met at an office party; it was love at first breath to be honest. We began seeing each other, I should have questioned her insistence on keeping things private, but I only saw what I wanted to see. I was just as surprised as Robert when he caught us in my office, suddenly I saw a completely different side of her. And of course, her husband would believe her word against mine.”

“That’s terrible. I can’t believe she lied to you both.”

“You live and learn. She is and always will be my biggest regret and my greatest weakness.” He took another long drink from his glass, setting the cup back on the table and locking eyes with her. “But damn the sex was good. Best sex of my life…” He winked. “So far.”

Emma buried her face in her hands and laughed. “Oh God. I’ll never have a story like that. I’ve never even had an orgasm during sex much less had the best sex of my life.”

“That my dear is a bloody shame.” He shook his head. “There is no excuse for any man who doesn’t desire being able to make his woman fall apart either by his hand…” He sat up in his seat, “On his tongue, or buried inside of her as she screams your name.” Emma’s cheeks warmed and unconsciously she felt the nervous snort build inside of her before it escaped her mouth, Killian’s brow rose in amusement.

“Those men only exist in porn, fanfiction, or wet dreams. Men are only interested in getting their cocks off.”

He grabbed his chest and exhaled loudly. “You wound a man, Swan.”

“Just being honest.” She shrugged. “At least in my experience.”

He passed her the bottle of rum. “Just who are you, Swan?”

She took the bottle and poured it into her empty glass, trying to ignore the stare of his piercing blue eyes. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

He looked down at his hands for a moment before meeting her eyes again, something dark, yet honest swirling behind his pupils. “Perhaps, I would.”

She swallowed thickly, bringing the glass to her lips to have another sip of her liquid courage before passing the bottle back to him. She sat back on the bed again, trying not to settle her eyes in his lap. Wondering exactly what was behind those delicious sweatpants.

The silence sat thicky between them and Emma bit her lip. “Um it’s my turn…” She closed her eyes and breathed out. “Dare.”

She heard him chuckle before her lids opened, drawing up his body until she met his eyes. His tongue darted out to wet his lips and Emma admonished herself for wondering what he tasted like. “Alright Swan…” He paused, swirling his glass in front of him. “I dare you to let me show you what a real orgasm is like.”

She laughed loudly before realizing that he was serious. “No way.”

“I can’t sit by knowing that my gender has failed you, I think it only fair to right that wrong.”

Emma thought maybe she had drunk too much rum and had obviously passed out. There was no way he was suggesting what she thought he had said. “That’s not happening…we’re not…no.” She laughed, more certain now that if she herself hadn’t had too much to drink, he certainly had.

“Are you refusing the dare?”

She narrowed her eyes. “Seriously? It’s not happening, you and I…never going to happen.”

“I’ve not proposed marriage, love. Are you that terrified of an orgasm?”

“I’m not afraid of…you’re crazy.” She couldn’t think straight, suddenly images of Killian Jones touching her were invading her thoughts, causing reactions she wasn’t prepared for. Was it suddenly hot in here? She fanned herself without thought, seeing the immediate amusement on his face.

“Are you quite sure it’s that crazy? Come now, we’ll make rules, Swan.”

“Rules? No…” She squeezed her legs together, covering herself with her pillows. “No, we’re not making…what kind of rules would we even…?” Oh God, was she considering this?

“You can stay fully dressed, not a stitch of clothing would need to be removed.”

“Yeah right, because that’s possible.” She snorted.

“I can assure you lass, it’s very attainable.” He said seriously, his eyes dark and dangerous. Was he real?

“How are you going to…you know, without even touching me?” Oh God she was talking about this like it was a normal thing. This was not normal, it was crazy.

“I’m quite talented, Swan.” He winked and Emma flushed.

Fuck, she really was considering this.

“So fully clothed…and no kissing.” She heard herself say, barely recognizing her own voice.

“On the mouth.” He smirked. “I think I can accept those terms.”

“You think you can…” She scoffed. “This is crazy.” She shook her head, pulling the pillow up to her face.

“Fully clothed, no kissing on the mouth, anything else?” His voice was deep, did he always sound like that? She thought about what he said, none of this was possible, he was going to touch her through her clothes, he couldn’t kiss her, there was no way she was going to get off that way. Even when she tried to do it herself, it took her a frustratingly long time to get where she needed to be.

“Besides not doing it all, no, there isn’t anything else. I think those rules have already set you up for failure.” She chuckled nervously.

“Then we have an accord.” He sat up in his chair. “Come here, love.”

She swallowed hard. “Over there?”

“Aye.” His eyes locked with hers as she stood from the bed and walked toward him, her legs shaking with each step. She stared down at him as he sat back in the chair. He took her hand and pulled it to his mouth, brushing his lips against her palm. Good Lord, just watching him touch her was enough to leave her shivering. “Sit.” He demanded as he put his hands on her hips and turned her away from him, pulling her down into his lap. “Relax love.” His hands wrapped around her waist, and she felt his breath against her neck, sending electric shockwaves down her back. Her jaw tensed the moment she felt his mouth skim her earlobe.

“Most men fail in this complex task because they don’t pay attention to the cues.” His tongue glided against her neck. “It’s not about what you say, it’s about how she reacts to your words.” Emma shivered as the tenor of his voice vibrated in her ear. “Do you want me to touch you, Emma?”

Her entire body reacted the moment he said her name, she was either lost in a sea of alcohol, or drowning in his voice, currently she didn’t know which but the wetness forming between her legs made it clear that either one was working for her. She bit her lip. “Come, love, use your words.” He teased as his hands slid between her legs. She sat back in his lap, immediately intrigued by the bulge protruding against her backside.

He paused his hands at her thigh, his mouth hot against her ear. “Emma…”

“Yes.” She moaned, feeling his smirk grow against her skin.

“Good girl.” He mewed and the moment the words brushed against her, she melted into his touch. She was putty in his hands, and he was only touching her through her clothes. She could suddenly imagine him doing so much more, thoughts that had her entire body on fire. One hand palmed her mound through her sweatpants while the other traveled up her body, resting under her breast.

She wanted his hands on her, anywhere, as he continued to breathe heavily against her ear. When she moved her hips she heard him groan, a sound so simple yet so full of wanton desire that she thought she might fall apart in that very moment.

His hand slid against her breast, her nipple pebbling against the thin material of her pajama top. His thumb slid against the erected nipple, his tongue languidly pressed against her neck, it was so much and yet not enough all at once.

The noise she made was soft, yet the squeak that came after was not. He chuckled against her. “That’s the sound I want to hear.” He growled. His hand pressed against her center, pulling her against the bulge in his pants, grinding her down against him as they both moaned with an irrational need she never knew existed.

It felt like his hands were everywhere, his fingers were hard at her puckered nipple, the friction from his hands against her crotch had her soaking with desire. She couldn’t believe she was so close to the edge, so ready to fall into oblivion. “Let go, Emma.” His whisper was dripping with sex, the very definition of dangerous. She leaned back against his chest, feeling him grind his hips into her backside as his mouth brushed against her jaw, his lips dangerously close to hers.

It was overwhelming, but everything she needed before his name fell from her lips and her body released against him, her breaths coming out hot and heavy, her head swirling in thoughts she couldn’t even admit to herself. She could feel him breathing against her neck, a feeling that reminded her of the fact that she was still sitting on his lap as she came down from her high.

She stood quickly, removing herself from his embrace, she retreated to the safety of her bed, terrified of meeting his gaze. When she looked up he was watching her, his eyes still lost in a haze, not completely focused. “That was um…quite surprising and yet satisfying.”

“Aye it was…” He let his words hang in the air, not finishing his thought, simply drifting off as he stared at her.

“We should order dessert.” She announced, suddenly feeling like it was vital to eat something before the alcohol threatened to remove all her inhibitions.

He remained serious for a moment, almost lost in thought before the corner of his mouth upturned. “Dessert sounds delightful.”

~*~

Killian’s tongue darted across his lips, wetting them as they threatened to dry completely. He watched Emma sitting on the bed, enjoying each scrumptious bite of her cheesecake. Each moan of satisfaction she exclaimed from the delicate treat threatened to send him into oblivion.

He wasn’t sure how he had survived her dare, how he managed not to slip his hands into her pants and slide between the heat of her wet folds. He knew it was bad form to break an accord but the moment he had her writhing and moaning in his lap he had almost forgotten his manners.

The alcohol wasn’t helping either. With dessert came another bottle of rum and Emma seemed eager to continue their previous game of Never Have I Ever. He couldn’t tell if she truly enjoyed the information she gleaned from the game or if it were an excuse not to have to go to bed with him in the room.

“Never have I ever ridden a motorcycle.” She said excitedly as she watched him tip his glass to his mouth and drink.

“I’m fairly certain you’ve set these questions up in order to ensure I end up drunk.” He mused. “You know damn well I ride that bike to work every day, I park next to that awful yellow vessel you captain.”

She grinned, her tongue slipping out of her mouth for a moment and suddenly he felt his pants growing tighter, the woman was driving him mad with that mouth of hers. “Never have I ever died my hair pink.” He smirked.

“That’s cheating, David mentioned that in last week’s meeting.”

“If your motorcycle question wasn’t cheating, neither is this. Now drink, love.”

She tilted the glass back, downing the rest of the liquid in her drink. “Time for truth, answer me this…”

“Are we just making up the rules now?” He laughed.

She sat up on her knees, her pillow in her lap. “Have you ever thought of doing that before?”

“Doing what?” He questioned.

“That, what we did earlier.” She said as her cheeks blushed red.

“Have I ever thought of bringing you to orgasm through your clothes, love?” He responded with a look of pleasure, enjoying the squirm of discomfort it brought her. She nodded uncomfortably. “Just helping a lass out, couldn’t stand to hear you’d never experienced that before.”

“So, you got no enjoyment out of it?”

“Ah, so you want to know if I…”

“Did you, you know…” She pressed on, not making eye contact with him.

“Got off, ejaculate, jizz in my collective pants…”

“Oh my God, stop.” She wheezed anxiously. “I’m just curious, you know if you…”

“Came to completion?” He smirked. “A gentleman never tells.”

“Oh, now you’re a gentleman.” She teased.

“I’m always a gentleman, love.” He stated emphatically, his eyes not leaving hers.

“So, you didn’t?” She asked with an almost pouting frown. “I just thought you might have with the sounds you were…”

“Trust me, if I had you would have known.” He looked down at his lap with a smile.

She bit her lip, sitting up on her knees and he thought that although he managed to hold off before he might just jizz in his pants now. “I dare you to show me…”

“I’m sorry, what? I just did truth, now we’re suddenly doing dare?” It was at this moment that he realized that Emma Swan was bloody perfect and was going to be the death of him before the end of the evening.

“That’s because you wouldn’t do it anyway.” She said with a shrug of her shoulders.

“You intend me to show you what exactly?”

“You know…” She asked shyly, covering her face with her hands.

“Are you asking to see my dick, love? You seem to have trouble tonight using your words, Swan?” This evening was shaping up to be quite the surprise, but he was going to make her work for it.

“I want to see how you…you know, get off.”

“Bloody hell.” He swore, shifting immediately in his seat. “Who are you and what have you done with Emma Swan?”

She sat back on the bed and bit her lip. “You watched me get off, I’m just curious, because I kinda thought you did too but if you didn’t, then that’s really not fair is it?”

“Fair?” He scoffed. “Suddenly there’s fair in truth or dare?”

“You got to see me in that state, in order to lower the playing field, I think it’s only right.”

“Lower the playing field?”

“I mean we work together and now anytime I see you I’m going to know that you watched me…you know, and I think it might be better if at least I could say the same.”

“You kept your bloody clothes on, I’m hardly seeing how watching me…”

“I didn’t say I thought you’d actually do it.” She said sharply.

“Is that so?”

She nodded slowly and he stood defiantly, pulling his sweats down his hips, and pushing them to the floor in one sweep. His cock stood at attention against his stomach, begging to be touched.

Well, he had bloody done it now, he was either going to end up fired or lose his mind.

“Holy shit…” She whispered from the bed, leaning back against the headboard. He waited for her to scream or yell or say something even remotely angry, like threaten to take him to HR, but instead she simply wet her lips with her tongue and stared at his crotch.

Before he could stop himself, he settled back into his chair, grasping himself in hand as he gave himself a pump. His eyes closed for a moment and his head fell backwards. What the hell was he doing? He opened his eyes again, glancing toward the woman on the bed who seemed entranced with the way his hand moved. His arousal grew as he watched her squeeze her legs together, her fingers white as she gripped the sheets beside her. He could only imagine what her fingers could do to him.

He stroked himself in a fluid motion, keeping his eyes on the woman in the bed, wishing like hell he could touch her again, to have her touch him. He heard a noise from across the room, a moan he was sure she tried to stifle, and it only seemed to propel him further, increasing the speed of his hand.

“Fuck.” She whispered as he trailed the full length of his erect cock with his fist, pumping quickly as his eyes traveled her body, the thin material of her shirt barely concealing her erect nipples.

“See something you like?” He whispered breathlessly. Her eyes locked with his and the moment they did he felt his entire body tense as ropes of white streamed out across his stomach and chest, eliciting a loud groan. “Fuck, Emma…” His eyes squeezed shut as he fisted himself until his movements slowed, his hand dripping with the sticky substance as he tugged along his shaft waiting for his breathing to return to normal.

When he opened his eyes she was staring at him, blinking silently. “I’m uh, just gonna clean this up.” He stood quickly and entered the bathroom, closing the door shut behind him as he slid down the door toward the floor.

~*~

Emma stared at the closed door, hardly able to breath after what she just witnessed. Killian Jones had just jerked off in front of her. It was the most sobering and intense thing she had ever witnessed. She had been frozen to her spot in the bed, her body aching, the tension inside of her winding up again after her earlier release. She didn’t know how to describe what she had just watched. She couldn’t even believe he had gone through with her request, much less that she actually had the nerve to watch him do it.

It was the hottest thing she had ever seen. But now what?

They just go back to work and pretend they took a trip to Denver, completed their work, and returned home? How was she ever going to sit across from him at the meeting table again without seeing him sitting in that chair, his eyes glued to her body as he pumped himself to completion?

She was screwed.

The door opened and Emma jumped slightly. He walked over to the closet and pulled the extra pillow and blankets down from the shelf, arranging them on the floor across from the bed as if nothing had happened.

“What are you doing?”

“Going to bed.” He shrugged.

“On the floor? I mean, after all that tonight, I think we can manage to share a bed. We’re adults, right?”

“Emma, I wouldn’t want to impose.”

She snorted. “You just gave me the best orgasm of my life, but you don’t want to impose by sleeping next to me in this shitty ass hotel we got forced to share.”

He smirked, “Best orgasm of your life, eh?”

“Just get in the bed, Jones.” She demanded, pulling the covers down on the other side of the bed.

“As you wish.” He bowed before blowing out the candle and climbing onto the mattress. Emma laid on her back, staring up at the dark ceiling. She couldn’t turn off her brain, she had so many thoughts swirling around in there.

“Truth…” She said softly. “What were you thinking about?”

She heard his quiet chuckle before he spoke. “I was thinking about what would have happened if you had still been on my lap.”

She slapped his chest. “I’m serious.”

“So was I.” She felt him roll over onto his side, facing her. “Just imaging what it would have been like without those ridiculously intrusive sweatpants in the way.” Emma swallowed, almost choking on her own spit. “Emma.” He said in a whisper, the heat of his breath only inches from her face. “Truth or dare…”

She felt like she was holding her breath. “Dare…” She replied softly.

She felt his mouth against her neck. “I dare you to kiss me.”

She turned quickly, her lips seeking his in the dark, he met her with a fury as he buried his hand in her hair, a groan escaping his throat.

His tongue pressed against her lips, and she opened her mouth to give him access. His hand lay still on his hip, the other still tangled in her hair, she needed more.

“I Dare you…” She moaned. She felt him chuckle against her lips. “Please touch me…” It was almost a whine, full of desperation and want but it had the impact she was hoping for. He rolled her over onto her back, his mouth still attacking hers until she felt the skim of his teeth against her jaw as he worked his way to her neck.

Emma was positively humming in anticipation when his fingers skimmed her waist, slipping under her t-shirt until she felt flesh against her abdomen, sucking in a breath, she let out a moan she couldn’t suppress. She had never done anything like this before. The entire evening with Killian was out of the realm of “normal Emma Swan behavior”, and yet with Killian, she wanted this, she wanted him, she wanted to feel this insanely powerful freeing feeling that being with him gave her.

His fingers continued to travel upward until she felt them brush the underside of her breast, and she arched toward his hand, pressing herself against his palm. “So needy.” He groaned against her neck.

Needy didn’t describe her desire strongly enough, she wrapped a leg around the back of his thigh, pulling his body against hers as she grinded her hips into his. “Want more.” She said breathily.

“Patience, Swan. I’ll give you what you need.” He promised, his eyes suddenly meeting hers when his fingers finally found her nipple, kneading it against his thumb. The wanton moan escaping her throat loudly.

“Yes…” She sighed. “More.”

He smirked, tugging her shirt up her body and dipping his head to press his lips against her flesh, sucking her pert nipple into his mouth. She mewed softly, her fingertips lightly scraping his scalp as she tugged the dark strands of hair in her hand, pulling him against her body.

His other hand trailed down her body, her flesh on fire everywhere he touched, and the only thing that could stop the burn was more Killian. She felt his fingers playfully dipping under her waistband, the anticipation of his touch growing more desperate.

His fingers dipped between her folds, almost teasing as he slipped inside of her only to immediately withdraw. She groaned in frustration and felt his smirk, the hairs on his jaw scratching against her breast, his fingers plunging inside of her again. Her head was spinning as she arched off the bed. “God yes.”

“I want to hear you sing, my beautiful Swan.” She had no chance to react the moment she felt his breath against her core. Her fingers tightened in his hair, needing to feel him closer. She could feel the spring winding inside of her again, similar to earlier in the evening when he touched her through her sweats, only now it was divine, now he was driving inside of her, his wet tongue licking a stripe against her, her legs tensing as he continued to drive into her.

She could feel herself getting closer, his fingers weren’t enough, she needed more.

“I need to feel you inside me.” She moaned.

He paused his movement, glancing up to meet her eyes before he slid up her body. “Never have I ever wanted a woman so badly in my life.” The kiss was desperate and full of intention and Emma matched the intensity as his tongue invaded her mouth. She dug her feet against the back of his knees, grinding her body against his erection, her hands desperately tugging at the waistbands of his sweatpants.

“Then take these damn things off…” She whined, anxiously tugging at her own to pull them from her body. She hadn’t felt this desperate in years, an urgent need welling as the fire burned inside of her. The clothes flew around the room before they came together again, she could feel his erection at her side, hard and waiting. His mouth was hot on hers as he slid between her legs, and she felt the welcome intrusion press against her center.

“Wait, wait, wait…” She scrambled, pulling away from him. “When were you last with someone?”

He pressed his mouth to her cheek, “It’s been a while love, if you’re nervous about…”

“I haven’t been with someone for months, I mean I’m protected, I take the pill, I just…”

“I’m not usually impulsive, though the situation we are currently in may seem to say otherwise.” She pulled him against her, pressing her mouth to his. “Emma…”

“Dare…”

She felt his smirk against her mouth. “No more need for dare’s, love. Your heart’s desire, Swan. I promise, that’s all I want you to have.” His lips ghosted against hers.

“I need…” She whined, her voice sounding foreign to her, begging for something she couldn’t put into words.

“I’ve got you.” He pressed against her entrance, and she felt him slide between her folds, the tip of his cock sliding inside of her before pulling away. She moaned in frustration before he slid in again, filling her, stretching her, and then leaving her empty once more. He was driving her to oblivion with each tentative thrust.

She nipped at his lip with her teeth, sucking his bottom lip into her mouth, eliciting a groan from his mouth. His thrusts increased, his kiss becoming almost animalistic as his thrusts became harder, driving into her with each plunge. She could feel her walls tighten around him as she met him thrust for thrust as she arched against him, needing the friction the closeness gave to her.

She could feel it building inside of her again, teetering closer as Killian took her to the place she needed to be. “Let go…” His breath was hot against her ear as he drove into her, sending her over the edge as the string inside of her snapped.

“Killian…oh God…yes…” She screamed into the darkness as she heard her name against her ear over and over again in a beautiful whisper.

He rested his forehead against hers, as his breathing came out in shallow breathes. “That was….”

“An interesting development.” She laughed.

“Is interesting good or bad?” He asked as he rolled over onto his side.

“Honestly…”

“We’ve been playing truth’s all night, why would I want you to lie now?”

“I always found you to be kind of annoying.” She said shortly.

“Bloody hell, that’s not exactly…”

“But…” She teased, cutting him off. “Maybe I was just unable to see past your rugged good looks and boyish charm.”

“Swan, it’s bad form to attack a man simply because he’s devastatingly handsome, one might even say dashing, but I would hope that I have proven tonight that I’m no boy.” His lips grazed the corner of her mouth. She couldn’t stop the smile from growing on her face.

“I don’t know, I might need to see some more evidence.” As he pulled her onto his chest, she was sure that neither of them would be getting any sleep tonight.

~*~

Killian showered quickly when he heard the knock on the door. Breakfast was being served to all hotel guests, the power had returned shortly before they woke that morning. He wrapped the towel around his waist and entered the room. Emma smiled from the table, dressed only in one of his t-shirts. “Morning.” She grinned as he sat down across from her.

She pushed his plate toward him and then took a bite of her toast. “Someone’s chipper this morning.” He teased.

“It was all the orgasms.” She whispered seductively with a wink. Grabbing the bottle of rum, he watched as she poured a shot into his glass and slid it toward him. “Never have I ever had sex with the boss’s daughter.” He had no idea what she was talking about but stared at the glass. “Better drink up, you might need the courage to explain yourself when we get home.” She chuckled.

“I’ve never done that, love, I already told you, she was the boss’s wife.”

The phone rang and Killian caught a glimpse of David’s name on the screen before she answered. “Hello, Daddy…”

Shit.

#truth or dare #stacy's fics #emma swan #killian jones #captain swan fics #captain swan au #captain swan modern au #captain swan

45 notes · View notes

spidernana · 2 years

Note

So...uh. I wrote a thing because it wouldn't leave me alone until it was finished. Hope you like it (and that I haven't butchered The Boy).

~~~~

You hadn't thought about taking a mate in a very long time. Hadn't even seen another tengu until you were flying through a vast, snowy forest after being pushed far off course by a snowstorm you had the unfortunate pleasure of traversing. So, imagine your surprise when, out of the great white landscape below you, a shape hurdles towards and slightly in front of your projected path.

You quickly bank left and begin to spiral towards the earth in your surprise. Above you, a great shadow looms, ever growing. You panic a little in the face of what you assume to be your downfall. You turn mid-air and catch a glimpse of huge white wings and a rictus grin that your instincts somehow register as... charming?? You find yourself thrown, literally and figuratively, into a snow bank.

You are panting with exertion, staring up at this skeletal tengu. You can feel your muscles tense and relax in spasms, but you physically cannot move underneath the far larger fellow (you're sure of it now) pinning you to the snow. It is all you can do to pry your eyes away from his visage; though whether to imprint your death or salvation you have no idea.

He seems to pause. Cocking his head, he only stares at you. This mutual appreciation seems to stretch for forever. Suddenly, as quickly and quietly as he came, he is off of you and wheeling towards what is indubitably his territory. Your instincts scream at you to follow, to present yourself, to mate. Realistically, however, you know that this is unlikely to occur without some planning. You catch your breath and begin to scheme.

Over the next couple of weeks, you test the waters; catching prey and leaving trinkets and baubles you have both collected over your travels and found nearby in places you hope he frequents. Sometimes, they are left alone. Other times (most frequently in the case of prey), all that remains is bloody snow and indentations where his talons have scored the snow's surface.

It is almost a month of this later when you decide to try your luck. You alight at the edge of the forest with prey and wait. He does not disappoint. You are caught off guard once again when he lands with nary a sound in front of you. He seems confused. (Maybe you've not been clear enough?)

You back off from your catch, allowing him to look it over. You hope the elk is satisfactory. It took weeks to find and track one you deemed large enough to present. You push aside your doubts and raise your wings in what you hope is an alluring manner and begin the dance you have been painstakingly practicing. At the end, you are left shaking from exertion and anticipation.

You can only hope he understands your intent and accepts your efforts.

~~~~

=^ •ᆽ• ^=

Dude that's awesome!!! Thank you so much for sharing it with me~

#myth monsters #ghost #snow owl tengu #awwww~#someone's got a crush #he definitely accepts that as a mating gift #you're already as good as friends just from him allowing you to live #a hearty gift of that magnitude cements you as his new mate

38 notes · View notes

listentothelittlebird · 3 years

Text

So I wrote Waterbender Jason Todd and that was a blast (the series is Gotham’s White Lotus!) but I went through a ton of drafts for how Jason got reintegrated into the Batfam - and here’s one of the drafts!

Word Count: 2760 words

I like this one because it’s dramatic :) Enjoy!

(This draft essentially diverges directly after Burning Iceberg - some of the diversions can be seen in the tags!)

An explosion, Oracle’s words quickly filtering into their comms.

“I have eyes on the combustion bender. Looks like he’s still looking to complete his contract.”

Batman’s voice came next, barking an order for Robin to return to the Batcave.

“But-”

“Little bird, you should probably listen to the B-man,” Red Hood jumped in, “Seriously. Lay off this one for all of us, alright?”

Robin huffed, but obeyed.

The explosions followed Robin’s movements until Batman was able to intercept the bender. Red Hood dropped down soon after. Batgirl had taken to accompanying Robin back to the Batcave. Nightwing informed them that he was on his way to Gotham, likely to check up on Robin for his own assurance.

The blasts caused Red Hood to dart to one side, Batman to the other. Before the smoke filling the empty warehouse could clear, a blade was pressed to Jason’s neck.

“Where is my son?” the voice hissed. The Pit was long gone, but that did nothing to quell the snarl that answered the question.

“Nice to see you too, Talia,” Jason spat out. He could guess why Talia had come to Gotham - investigating the new mask that held his build, as well as the absence of one eight-year-old after his most recent mission.

“Where-” the sword dug deeper, “-is. My. Son.”

“Where do you think?” Jason snarked, “C’mon, Tals, you can’t be that much of an idiot. Detective it out yourself.”

Talia growled. “You poisoned my child’s thoughts,” Talia murmured darkly, “If not for you, Damian would have completed his mission successfully, and been ever closer to becoming a satisfactory Heir. I should have recognised your meddling from the start.”

Jason chuckled. The smoke was clearing, now, and from the comms, it seemed that Batman was apprehending the combustion bender. He hoped Oracle could hear him and had alerted the others.

“You kept Damian from his father,” Jason stated evenly, “The least I could do was tell the kid about his Dad and his brothers. You know, the brothers you never told him about? Not to mention his sister, too.”

“He is the blood-son.”

“He is the youngest son, and you’re gonna have to get through me and the rest of us if you so much as think of hiding him away again.”

Batman dropped down in front of them. Talia’s sword was still dangerously close to his neck, digging in slightly, nearly drawing blood.

“Back away from the Hood, Talia,” Batman growled, “This is between you and me.”

Talia stilled.

“You haven’t told him,” Talia realised.

Shit.

The sword was humming, growing warmer. Jason could feel the heat on his skin.

“You told me you wanted revenge. You told me you wanted your replacement gone,” Talia was on a roll, now, grasping greedily for control, “You told me you wanted him to pay. For not avenging you. For leaving The Joker walking.”

Jason shuddered at the mention of the Rogue. He could feel Talia’s shark-like grin at his neck.

“A shame,” she tutted, “You realised, didn’t you? That he never cared for you. No wonder you have yet to tell him the truth.”

Batman took a stuttering step forward. Jason tried to control his breathing, the blade heating up enough to burn. She was trying to get under his skin. Trying to…

Jason made sure to inject rage and malice into his next words, “You’re not the only one with tricks up your sleeve, Talia.”

Underneath his jacket was a flask of water for emergencies.

“Oh?” Talia hummed menacingly, “And what may that be?”

Jason moved, breaking out of the hold. The sword flared into flames.

The jet of water knocked Talia back several paces, but not before she could take a slash at his helmet. The material melted into his lenses, and Jason cursed, ripping off the helmet just in time to block her blade with an ice-coated arm.

“The spirits. That was you.”

“Bingo. Looks like the Pit didn’t melt out your brains.”

Jason met the flurry of attacks steadily, bending the broken ice into water blasts and back to ice once more, dodging the flames and ignoring the singed marks on his clothes.

Another explosion. Jason’s gaze darted just enough to see that the combustion bender had returned, hands bound but still conscious.

“I should have never helped you,” Talia stated, a tone of finality, “It’s only right I bury you again.”

A bout of flames aimed for his face, forcing Jason to roll backwards, just out of reach. By the time he got back to his feet, Talia was standing beside the combustion bender, who was already in stance. Another explosion sounded, right above him.

Jason only had time to curl up and erect a crystal of ice around him before the warehouse roof fell.

He could taste the smoke on his lips, the dust of wood and cement. He waited one, two seconds, straining against the weight of the building against the ice, before digging into his jacket, pulling out a small comms unit and stuffing it into his ear.

“-you hear me? Hood!” Oracle was yelling.

“I’m under the warehouse,” Jason gasped out, coughing up the smoke and dirt and dust, “I’m- I’m underneath. I- please. Please get me out. Fuck.”

He was trembling. The ice creaked, painfully loud in the silence.

“I can’t-” his lips moved without his permission, “-can’t do this again. Shit. I- don’t make me do this again.”

Distantly, he registered that his voice was no longer modulated, like it was in his helmet.

“I found him,” came Batman’s grunt, and if Jason had enough space within the ice, he would have keeled over in relief. The soil beneath him rumbled, but Jason had long come to associate this specific tremble with earthbending. The earth opened, and Jason gasped as he dropped into the ditch, which closed and engulfed him in darkness.

“B?” Jason whispered, the sound echoing. He was vaguely aware of someone approaching him as his breath quickened.

“It’s me, Hood,” Batman’s voice sounded, and Jason sobbed.

“I- shit. Shit.”

“It’s alright,” Batman soothed, “It’s-”

Batman cut himself off, coming to a stop just in front of where Jason was on his hands and knees, desperately trying to quell his panicked breathing.

A hand on his shoulder pulled him into an upright position on his knees. Jason flinched as a flashlight was shined on his face, then gulped audibly as Batman visibly jolted back in shock. The light stayed trained on his face, even as Batman reached out slowly, as if scared he would disappear. His hand first found Jason’s arm, then his neck, pressing to his pulse, and then reached to his face, peeling off the red domino mask with a fragile touch.

A beat passed, where Jason stared into Batman’s cowl, desperately waiting for a reaction.

“Batman, what’s Hood’s status?” came through the comms.

“Jason?” he whispered. He tugged off his cowl, and Bruce’s eyes shone with flickering hope and brokenness.

Jason sucked in gulps of air in between his hitched breaths, enough for him to rasp out one word, “Dad.”

The light moved away from his face, a black gauntlet grasping tightly onto his arm, nearly bruising in its grip, pulling him roughly forward. Jason lost his balance, tipping straight into a tight hug that knocked the breath out of him, just as it knocked the first tears loose.

“Dad,” he whispered again, the grip around him tightening somehow, “Dad.”

“Jason,” Bruce returned just as reverently, “Oh, son, why didn’t you say anything? Why didn’t you tell us?”

“I’m-” Jason sobbed, gasping, “I’m sorry. I-I didn’t know… how… how to tell you. Didn’t know what to say. I-”

Bruce shushed him quietly, and Jason dissolved into tears in his father’s arms.

“Jason?” Bruce had whispered, and then the words through the comms were too muffled to make out.

“Batman? Batman, are you there?” Dick tried again, sharing another concerned look with Tim. Bruce had gone silent, save for words that were too hard for them to make out. Cass placed a steadying hand on Dick’s shoulder, a silent sign of support.

“Tune into Red Hood’s comms,” Oracle chimed abruptly. Dick frowned, but did as told.

“-Dad,” the voice, unmodulated for the first time, cracked with emotion, and the two brothers froze. The voice bordered on familiarity, despite the lower tones and faint rasp.

Damian, who had been inattentive to the audio up until that point, straightened abruptly from where he had been scrutinising a batarang. He was by their side in moments, focused intently on the blank screen of the Batcomputer as if it could provide him the answers of the universe. Cass looked on with narrowed eyes, picking up the tension in their stances, tension for different reasons.

“I’m sorry,” was heard, dissolving into incoherent phrases that were shushed by another voice. Bruce, Dick’s brain supplied. That was Bruce comforting Red Hood- comforting-

“I’m not hearing things, am I?” Dick’s voice trembled, humour falling flat. Tim’s face was pinched beside him, vaguely pale, likely mirroring his own.

Beside them, Damian breathed deeply, in and out, and turned to them with a determined tilt to his frown.

“The brother I mentioned before,” Damian started, snapping Dick’s attention towards him, “The one who told me about the zoo, about hugs. He told me about you as well, Grayson.”

Damian met his eye with only a flicker of hesitation. “He told me you loved hugs, and other forms of physical affection. He told me you once ate a box of cereal and started doing cartwheels down the hallway. He said you taught him how to fly, and how to fall.”

“Prepare the medbay for smoke inhalation,” Batman’s voice intoned. Alfred had appeared on the steps to the Manor, already making his way towards the medical supplies. Tim and Cass shared a look, and followed.

“Jason Todd,” Dick blurted, Tim’s steps faltering, Cass freezing. Something clattered out of Alfred’s always-steady hands. “The brother you’re talking about. Is his name Jason Todd?”

Damian’s gaze, still wary and too-old from his childhood training, nodded with conviction.

Alfred paused at the bedside, taking a moment to stare at the absolute miracle in front of him, sleeping peacefully with the same expression he had once seen on a small malnourished boy. He had just managed to convince Master Bruce to wash up before staying vigil by Master Jason’s side, and Alfred was quietly glad for the moment to allow himself the time to take in Master Jason’s aged appearance.

Alfred rested a hand on Jason’s head, and allowed himself an indulgent brush through the young man’s hair, the tuft of white hair tangled into his raven hair.

“My dear boy,” Alfred whispered, “Words cannot describe how glad I am, to see you alive.”

Master Jason twitched slightly, eyes flitting open just enough to take in Alfred’s face. A small smirk made its way to his lips, a greeting as much as it was a sign of his relief. Master Jason hummed out something intelligible, but Alfred shushed the boy, and his eyes easily slid shut once more.

Jason jolted awake with a gasp.

“Jay,” came a soft rumble, “Jaylad. You’re okay. It’s okay.”

Jason flitted his gaze over the room, cataloguing everything he could see in the dim lighting, before familiarity met him with sudden certainty. His gaze drifted over to the speaker.

“It’s okay,” Bruce repeated softly, guiding Jason back to lying against the pillow.

“B-” Jason grimaced at his dry throat, “Bruce?”

Bruce offered him a cup of water. Jason squinted at it and lifted his hand, but Bruce’s hand lowered it before the water could so much as ripple. “No bending in the Manor,” Bruce huffed, his lips twitching into a small smile, “Alfred would have your head in no time.” Jason huffed a laugh as the cup was pressed into his hand.

When the cup had been emptied, Jason cast another glance over the room. It was Bruce’s bedroom, Bruce on a chair beside the bed, Jason in the bed, now propped up against the headboard.

“The bender,” Jason started, turning to eye Bruce, subconsciously checking for injuries. He had a nasty-looking bruise on his arm, but otherwise looked alright.

“He got away,” Bruce stated, “With Talia.” Bruce paused, visibly reigning himself in, settling for, “Jason… I have many questions.”

“I’m sure you do,” Jason agreed with a cringe, “There’s… a lot to cover.”

He blinked then, perking up once more, “Damian. Can I see Damian?”

“Talia let you meet him,” Bruce guessed. Jason nodded distractedly, shuffling himself out of the covers and inching towards the edge of the bed. He paused to sniff the baggy shirt he was wearing, and blinked at Bruce. “Am I wearing your clothes?”

“You are,” Bruce confirmed, lip ticked up in amusement. There was a concerned glint in his eyes as Jason stood up, swaying through a head-rush. Bruce’s hands stuttered towards him, but hesitated. Jason took the initiative and wrapped his arms tightly around Bruce, and Bruce hugged him back just as firmly.

“Damian’s having breakfast with the others,” Bruce spoke softly, “Are you… ready to see them? Or would you rather me bring Damian up alone?”

Jason hesitated.

“I kind of owe them all answers, don’t I? Let’s just get it over and done with. Rip it off like a band-aid.”

Bruce hummed, lingering in the hug for a long moment before finally letting his arms go loose. Jason pulled away with a small smile, Bruce brushing a hand over his face with an overly tender expression.

There was vague scuffling coming from the kitchen.

“Quick, grab the coffee, Dami!” Dick hollered with a laugh, easily swiping Tim into the air and holding him over his shoulder. Tim twisted with a feral kick at Dick’s face, which he easily dodged by maneuvering until Tim’s arms were pinned and his legs stuck out too far to hit anything substantial.

“Be careful, Masters,” Alfred called from where he was dealing with their pancakes, not once looking up to acknowledge the play-fighting.

Cassandra was watching from the side, the only one to acknowledge Bruce and Jason as they walked in, giving them a smile and a wave. She stepped towards Bruce first, pulling him into a short hug, and did the same for Jason. Jason froze unsurely, but Cassandra smiled into his collar and giggled. “Cass,” she murmured, pulling away to beam, “Hello, brother.”

Jason returned the smile tentatively. “Hello, sister,” he offered, Cass’ smile stretching wider. Bruce looked ready to burst with emotion.

Tim whined and slumped over in Dick’s grip as Damian, on Dick’s encouraging nod, poured away the coffee into the sink, “This is unfair! Absolutely unfair! It’s only been a week and I’m already suffering from middle-child syndrome. Unfair.”

Jason snuck up on Dick and pounced, tipping them both to the ground and grabbing Tim out of Dick’s hold. “Middle children have to stick together,” Jason nodded sagely, grinning widely as Tim stared down at him dazedly, from where he had ended up sprawled on top of him.

“Jay!” Dick chirped brightly, and Jason grunted as the older boy flopped on top of them both, “You’re awake!”

“Get off, Dickhead!” Jason managed to roll out from under him. One thing led to another, and suddenly Jason had himself wrapped in a Dick Grayson Hug that was definitely not stopping anytime soon. That was about the time he met Damian’s eye, and he gave the boy a warm smile.

“What did I tell you, Baby Bat?” he drawled, rolling his eyes and gesturing to Dick’s arms, “Dickie loves hugs. Can’t get away from him even if you tried.”

“Damn right,” Dick hummed happily, squeezing briefly, “You run now and I’ll hunt you down and hug you for even longer.”

Jason gave an answering pat to Dick’s shoulder in acknowledgement. To Damian, he shook his head in mock-annoyance. Damian stepped forward, then, and folded himself against Jason’s other side. Jason curled his arm around the boy, and Damian shoved himself more firmly against his side.

“Your eyes aren’t green,” Damian whispered.

“No, they’re not,” Jason agreed, “I… it’s a long story, but I managed to get rid of the Pit rage, and got my bending back, while I was at it.”

“We have time,” Tim pointed out, settling himself on the ground in front of the small pile of pressed-together bodies, “I don’t think you’ll be extracting yourself from Dick anytime soon, either.”

Jason huffed, smiling softly. “I’ll start from the beginning, then.”

#AU of an AU #Gotham's White Lotus #straight from the trash doc #batfam #Jason Todd #in this au Damian was sent to Titans tower and they both got blindsided by the combustion bender Talia sent right behind Damian #Damian was meant to take down Tim #but instead Damian Noped out of there with Tim's help #Jason was procrastinating getting back to Gotham by doing spiritbending as a White Lotus member #dark spirits were invading Gotham so he started being Red Hood on the streets while quietly spiritbending the dark spirits #I might share the other parts of the drafts eventually but this one's the main j u i c e #cw cursing #Jason gets buried under rubble #Talia al Ghul #bruce wayne #tim drake #damian wayne #Dick Grayson #Cassandra Cain #Alfred Pennyworth #honestly really happy with this part in particular but the previous parts leading up to it just didn't flow right for me #fanfic

31 notes · View notes

winter-mornings · 3 years

Note

I have a crazy au idea for the dream smp... Powers AU

Each member has a power that they can activate and use, but each power comes with cons.

For example: Techno can transform from his regular form to his battle form, which is a huge pig warrior. A con could be that when he uses it, he becomes exhausted afterwards and he can't use it again until a few more days pass.

Quackity's could be that he can sprout wings and fly as long as he has a clear purpose. If he doesn't have a clear purpose, the wings retract and he falls.

Dream's would be shapeshifting. He can change his shape whenever he wants but is sensitive to bright lights. Sun will burn his skin. That's why he always wears a cloak of sorts.

I hope this is satisfactory. Ps I love your art so much!

OHHH I REALLY LIKE THIS!!! I could work even out of a super hero au, as I already interpret theses characters as shapeshifters, the light sensitivity detail for dream is super cool! If you don’t mind I might yoink it for a comic later down the line or smthing!

Technoblade’s fatigue after using his power could easily come into play as a kidnapping arc! Using his powers to allow his allies a safe exit, he over exerts himself. Thought he is a very capable fighter even out of his pigsona ( look I make myself laugh) the fatigue renders him basically powerless-

The one you wrote for quackity is my favourite, as it works really well for an Icarus parallel ( not exactly following the classic story but wtver) like, all tragic heros have a fatal flaw, I’m most cases, including this one, it would be hubris! But if you let doubt creep in and singe your wings to stumps... the angst just writes itself!

( when I talk of the characters, I’m never talking about the creators directly, only the role they play in the dream smp, just wanted to make that clear for anyone reading this)

#ask box #asks #me thoughts!#THAT IS HONESTLY SO FUN OF AN IDEA #LIKE D U D E

132 notes · View notes

this-idiots-left-eye · 3 years

Note

I'd love to see more fics exploring Noé & Domi (not necessarily in a shipping light, though I do love those two. It's the ~history~ y'know! *chef's kiss*). But I also agree, Roland & Olivier are two characters that would be really fun to explore. What are they doing when they break out of chasseur mode? I find it amusing that Olivier is so popular with the ladies but can't be bothered by all that. Heh!

Hey there! I'm so so sorry it took me forever to get to your prompt!! I loved it and fully intended to return to it...but my inspiration sort of left as soon as it came.

So I thought maybe I'd use some of these prompts for the vnc countdown since it's giving me some more! I hope that's alright!

Enjoy!

Noé’s brow was creased, his hand to his chin,

“If you keep thinking that hard, your thoughts might decide to start walking out of your head.”

“Sorry, Teacher.”

“No need to apologize,” his teacher laughed, more than anything at Noés mundane reaction at such a strange statement, “I just thought your head might appreciate a little relief. Come now, let’s look at the options over here!“ He beckoned him to the next part of the store. “What do you think?”

Noé observed the dresses towering above him, trying not to think too hard this time. He didn’t want to say he didn’t like them till he gave them a proper think over.

Then he turned to the side…and saw it.

A dress of brilliant gold, with flowers, butterflies and bows—though nothing too terribly lavish, just perfect little accents.

Noé’s eyes became stars, and his hands became triumphant fists at his sides.

“That one.” He pointed like an explorer who’d found land.

His Teacher raised an eyebrow, lifting his head to find the object of fascination. “Ah! You have taste, my dear Noé! A fine piece!”—He called for assistance—“Our dear Dominique will look lovely in that.”

He agreed. Even with her hair like that, and her eyes all sad, she would look beautiful in this. He could only hope she would be able to see it too.

Noé sat in a chair in Dominique’s room, swinging his legs back and forth, waiting patiently, but determinedly.

Domi came in what might have been minutes, but felt like hours later. It still made him sad to see her hair so short, and her eyes ever glazed. Gold looked better when it was allowed to shine.

She was still wearing Louis’ waistcoat.

Noé shot up at her arrival and Domi’s eyes widened upon seeing him there.

“I have—!" He fumbled with the box, almost dropping it, but managed to regain composure, holding it out to her. “I have something for you!”

Domi didn’t say anything. The curiosity in her eyes was almost imperceptible beneath that glaze, but it was there. She took the lid off the box and observed the article within. Her eyes widened, and she looked from it to Noé.

“Domi, would you please join me for dinner tonight?”

“Huh? We always have dinner together.” Her voice was low and soft.

He smiled, though there was something sad in his eyes at hearing her voice. “Yes, but tonight’s special! I know this request might seem a little strange, but I would like you to meet me in the woods later!” He pulled a badly drawn map of the forest out of his pocket and pointed at an over-exaggerated X on it. “At this location!” He looked up at her, and the look in his eyes told her she couldn’t refuse. “Will you?”

Domi’s brow furrowed. “You haven’t lost it have you, Noé?”

“Please let me know if I have! Teacher says if I think too hard my thoughts might walk right out of my head!”

“He was just saying that.”

“We can only hope, but I still don’t want to chance it.”

Domi’s thoughts frayed as she looked at herself in that golden dress. Like a rope that isn’t quite sure it can hold onto anything.

It was Louis. It was supposed to be Louis.

Why did they pick her? Why? Why was he cursed, and she blessed? It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fair they had to choose. Choices were for ice cream flavors, and what book you wanted to read, not for brothers and sisters.

Not for twins.

That word gummed up her mouth, even when she didn’t say it aloud.

Twins. She and Louis, twins. Part of her still couldn’t believe it, and the other part of her could only believe it.

That word had one benefit. With her hair cut, and wearing his clothes, she could pass for him.

Which was surely what everyone wanted. All as it should have been.

She could pretend to be Louis. And pretending to be Louis was…better that truly being Domi…wasn’t it?

So…why did Noé want her to wear this dress? Didn’t Noé prefer her looking like Louis?

“I like it when you have your hair long too. It feels so much like you’re Domi, then, and…I really like it.”

Or perhaps…

Would he like that? Would he really?

She looked at herself in this dress and she thought in some far-off part of her brain that, perhaps she was beautiful. And perhaps he picked this dress because he knew she would like it, and he knew she would look nice in it.

But she would have looked better in it if her hair were longer.

Noé was so glad to have Domi.

He missed Louis, and he wanted Louis back, certainly. But he was glad to have Domi, and he wanted Domi to be, well, Domi. She was no pale imitation of her brother, and didn’t deserve to be treated as such.

It made him so sad to see her cut her hair, and put herself in Louis’ clothes. It made him so sad that she thought that’s what she was, what they all wanted.

He had to show her he appreciated her.

He waited in his chair at the table with equally determined, yet barely simmering excitement.

Noé had once read a book Teacher brought from the human world in which a group of mad characters had tea in the forest. Noé thought it was rather fantastic idea, and asked Teacher if they could accomplish such a thing. The table had to be long, and the tea had to be all over it, with lots of cakes too. Teacher laughed, said What an amusing notion, and that he was sure he could set something up.

Noé wasn’t sure exactly how, but when he and Murr entered the forest, was delighted to find it almost exactly as he’d pictured. (Okay, not exactly. There was more substantial dinner food than tea, and not nearly enough desserts, but still.)

When Domi came through the forest Noé stood up, like she was a princess who deserved respect. And he wouldn’t say she didn’t look like it; he had made the right choice. The short hair looked kind of nice with it.

“You look great!” He pumped his fist at his side again.

Domi looked at the ground, but brushed her hair behind her ear.

“Why are we doing this?” She asked, but her eyes scanned the table and the dishes with that barely perceptible curiosity.

“It’s for you!”

“I mean what are we celebrating?”

“Uhh, we’re celebrating you, then, I guess!” Noé continued determinedly, pulling out a chair for Domi, as Teacher poured some blood into her goblet.

“But it’s not my birthday.” She continued looking at the setup as she sat down.

“Why does it have to be for us to want to celebrate you?” Noé sat down in another chair next to hers.

Domi’s eyes widened, and her eyes changed as she observed the table, becoming more awed, with an almost tearful shimmer to them.

When she turned back to look at Noé, for the first time since Louis’ death, he thought he really was really seeing Domi.

* Fin *

I really hope you like what I came up with! I had hoped it would be longer but I do really like the idea. And please do send me another prompt if you were hoping for something different, or else have a new idea!

Oh also, I realized after I wrote it that it's possible Noé couldn't leave the manor at that age, but I don't remember, and I didn't want to change the beginning since I realized this when I was about to post

For Roland and Olivier, I don't have something ready quite yet, but I am working on something, and I thought I'd post a snippet here for you! I'm honestly quite proud of this XD

Olivier was having a perfectly satisfactory morning. His coffee smelled just the right shade of black, and was perfectly scalding. He brought a book he’d been hoping to read for a while, but hadn’t had the time for. He lit a cigarette, and the smoke was as decadent to him as any dessert. He was just opening up said book, just bringing the cigarette to his lips when—

“OLIVIER!”

Oliver didn’t jump. Didn’t shout or otherwise react in surprise at the sudden disruption to his morning. Instead, very slowly, he closed the book, very carefully he set down his coffee. Very slowly, he lifted the cigarette and took a long drag, blowing out a wisp of smoke.

And he silently regretted (not for the first time) telling Roland where his favorite coffee shop was.

Question. For this Roland and Olivier fic, would you be more interested in reading about them running around trying to help someone find their lost pet, or a fic exploring them going to fly that small aircraft Roland was talking about? Or do you have another idea for what Roland might be worked up about? XD Feel free to put it in my ask box, I could always put this fic with that ask!

Thanks so much for sending me this prompt!!

#vnc #vanitas no carte #vanitas no shuki #noe archiviste #the case study of vanitas #dominique de sade #noé archiviste #olivier obsidian #Roland fortis #les memoires de vanitas #les mémoires de vanitas #vnc asks #vnc prompts #vanitas #vanitas no carte fanfiction #vnc fanfiction #vnc fanfic #vnc fic #vnc writers

16 notes · View notes

alicenttully · 3 years

Note

Something I’ve always been curious about, why exactly do book Dany stans hate Sansa? (assuming they’re not show watchers). They’ve never interacted in the books (yet) and their arcs have nothing to do with each other. I can understand show watchers because Sansa flat out rejected their precious white savior, but the book readers hatred is odd. (Just like all antis)

Honestly someone (maybe @sayruq @trinuviel or @cleverjonquil ) who have been in the fandom longer than I have would probably give a more satisfactory answer BUT I would probably say it's a number of factors -

1. Many Dany stans are like Arya stans in that they have "not like other girls syndrome". Therefore, they can't comprehend that a feminine character like Sansa could possibly have any narrative importance, or be a hero in her own right. Because if Sansa had been a character in a different story, she would have been reduced either to a love interest, a background character, gives up her ladylike interests for "character development", or killed to be someone else's motivation (ie Ned) Instead, she is a major POV character and has been called "central part of the story" along with Bran & Arya, she has a political arc with strong Queen foreshadowing, has her own endgame antagonist ALL the while still existing as a feminine character. Now, I know someone will challenge this by arguing that Daenerys is also feminine, which is true. But the difference between Dany and Sansa is that Dany is much more admissible because she has dragons etc

2. Which kind of goes into my second point. Many book Dany fans are male, fantasy readers, and they're used to seeing characters like Daenerys in the genre. I've said before that when you read Sansa's chapters and compare them to her siblings/Dany, Sansa arguably feels like she could be in a different literary genre to them. She's also a more realistic child character than Dany or Arya. That's not to say that Arya or Dany are "grown ups" (because reading Arya's chapters, you get a sense of how young Arya is too - for example, her insistence that Ned never loved anyone but her mother... which awww) but like.... Arya is a tiny 9 year old at the end of AGOT when she flees the Red Keep. Realistically, throwing a kid in the middle of a war zone - she should have died. Arya's survival is in many ways miraculous.

3. There are Dany stans who also happen to be Arya stans who hate Sansa. I get the feeling that some Dany & Arya stans also have an "alliance" (lol) but they'll 100 per cent turn on one another when given the opportunity or if the other character does something that pisses the other fandom off - for example, the horrible things said about Arya by Dany stans when surprise, surprise, she sided with her blood (that is, her inferior sister Sansa) instead of a invader/tyrant that would only bring more blood and carnage to a continent that has been devastated by a war very recently, in the show. There are a lot of hints in the books that show Arya is going to feel very similar. Like Arya named her direwolf after a woman who found refuge for her people after fleeing the Valyrians.

4. Book Dany stans love Dany because they've misinterpreted her arc as being a heroic one. They see her as a saviour because they've mistaken her anti slavery campaign as being wholly altruistic, and they think shes going to retake Westeros and reestablish her family dynasty (perhaps with Jon) or she's going to sacrifice her life fighting the Others AFTER she's decimated Kingslanding. Accidentally of course. They overlook a lot of red flags in her narrative. For one, her whole mantra of "If I look back I am lost" is her refusal to contemplate her mistakes. Her whole Dance arc. People say it's boring, but I think those chapters are very revealing about where George intended to go with her character. He could not have been more blatant when he has her think that if she gets to fly on Drogon, it'll be "worth it" despite at the same time having her witness the absolute nightmare Drogon has created by him showing up. The fact that Dany is an isolated POV character - think how much people's view of Dany might have been changed if we had Mirri's POV to counter hers- but then again, considering how much WOC are treated like monsters in situations when they're the ones who have been hurt by white women, racists would still try to rationalise what Dany did to her. Arya has a similar issue -she's interacted with other POV characters who all have their perceptions of her (Jon, Ned, Sansa) but while the first two paint her in a very favourable light - you know Arya is a daddy's girl (which I identify with, I'm much closer to my dad) and Jon & Arya adore each other. When it comes to Sansa, she doesn't think Arya hung the moon (she doesn't hate her either to be clear) but it's very obvious that when it comes to AGOT, that George was very heavy-handed with the way he wrote them. And because of that people walk away with the perception that Arya is the underdog and Sansa the mean older sister. But at the same time it's not that simple. The perception isn't entirely accurate. Yes Arya is in many ways an underdog, but Sansa isn't an enemy. Her moments of being "mean" are the result of the trauma she very recently went through and isn't processing healthily, her issues with Joffrey etc, her repressed anger towards Ned (the person who killed Lady) There's also the fact that Arya projects onto Sansa in her first chapter - she blames her for getting her into trouble with Septa Mordane etc. Like Sansa wasn't doing anything but chilling with Jeyne girl. You're the one who spoke too loudly. You're also the one who insulted the Crown Prince, and if Sansa was really the bitchy sister antis paint her as, she would have told Septa Mordane. But instead she covers for both Arya AND Jon's asses (because he's the one that Arya is mimicking) It seems like such a minor thing because I don't think readers at that point would understand how serious that is for someone of Jon's station to be insulting the heir to a throne. Like don't get me wrong I don't care that he did lol, but that considering the nature of Westeros - smallfolk/lowborn etc they've brought up to have a respect/fear for their lords/kings (now whenever or not that is a good thing is another question.... abolish feudalism!! equality baby!!! However thats not going to happen in Dany, Sansa & Arya lifetimes. I feel like Brans election as king is going to be one small step towards progress) and that was a dumb thing for Jon to do. Like it reminds me of how Ilyn Payne insulted Aerys by saying that Tywin was the true king and then Aerys had his tongue ripped out.

Just as book Dany stans love Dany because they've wildly misunderstood her plot and character, these same Dany stans hate Sansa because they've wildly misinterpreted her character, her arc, and motivations. For example some think she is on an redemptive arc after her "betrayals" in AGOT. Or I've come across Dany stans who geniuely think Sansa is going down a dark path and is a "villian in the making".

5. Some Dany and Arya stans have a similar view of Sansa in that she is only meant to serve/support them & couldn't be important in her own right. And they resent the idea of that not being the case.

Wow I didn't mean to get so long winded. Hope this answers the question though lol!

#sansa stark #anti dany stans #anti arya stans #asoiaf #a song of ice and fire #antis don't interact #got #game of thrones #asks

42 notes · View notes

starr-fall-knight-rise · 4 years

Text

Humans are Weird, “Autograph.”

Wrote this between sporadic bouts of studying because I have the attention span of a flea and the motivation of a blob fish. So This is for those of you asking about what happened after “Movie Star.”

He watched his shuttle hit altitude and then vanish into a pristine blue sky. The roaring of the engines faded away until there was nothing but the distant thunder of jet engines, so much quieter in comparison to the wild screaming of the spacefaring craft headed on her way back to the Harbinger, and a crew that would be captained by his second in command. It hurt him to think that someone else would be captaining his ship, that she'd be in deep space without him.

He wondered if this is what it felt like for a parent to leave their child for the first time.

It all just made his heart ache, and he had the sudden desire to call and make sure she hadn’t spontaneously combusted as soon as he had entered that shuttle leaving her on the docking port moonside.

“Yep, she totally exploded, the entire crew is dead and their ashes will forever float through space.” He turned his head to glower at Conn floating at his back and staring up into the sky with a grin.

“Shut the hell up Conn.”

“Make me.”

“Do I need to remind you that the only thing between you and a snapped spine is a gravitational chastity belt.” he snarled

Conn adjusted the gravity field harness around his narrow-protruding hips, “Speaking of chastity belts-”

He held up a hand, “NO-no I am stopping that line of conversation right there.”

A gentle hand rested on one of his shoulders, and he turned to find Sunny standing over him her head tilted slightly to one side. The expression she had on was almost comical for an alien without human facial structures, “They’ll be fine.” Then she slapped him on the back making him stagger forward, “Now stop frowning, You should be excited.”

He straightened himself out adjusting his jacket.

To his side, Krill sighed and looked up at the sky with an almost longing expression.

“What’s your problem?” Sunny wondered

The Vrul sighed, “The amount of time I spend on a class A death planet is really making me question my sanity.”

“You’re only now beginning to question your sanity?” Adam wondered wryly as he looked around the tarmac. Aside from a couple of baggage carriers, and people in bright orange vests, there was no one here, and no way to tell where they were supposed to go.

“Ha ha, funny ...Where are we going?”

“Guess we sort of just head towards the terminal?” He glanced towards the taxiways between them and the terminal and shook his head. That didn’t seem likely, but also…. There was no one here, “Or not…. I would expect at least someone to be here.”

Sunny crossed her arms in annoyance, “Seems kind of rude they would ask you to come and then just…. Leave you.”

His eyes scanned over the tarmac once more, baggage carts, buggies, distant buses, a fancy black car, but nothing close by. He adjusted his bag over his shoulder, “May as well walk to those people over there and ask them. I don’t want to get in the way of the planes.”

Adam, followed by his extraterrestrial entourage slowly began heading in that direction. A bus rolled by them going the opposite direction, and the black car from earlier turned onto the same road to roll past. Adam kept walking.

“Commander!..... Commander Vir.”

The group of them spun in a tight circle turning to face the car, which turned out to be a limousine, the front window rolled down, and a man in a dark suit leaning out.

Adam looked around like there was someone else by that name standing behind him before pointing at himself, “I ur…. Me.”

The man parked the car and stepped out reaching over to open the car door, “Mr. Ellis apologizes that he couldn’t meet you in person, but he hopes that you will find his personal car satisfactory. Adam blinked like a deer in the headlights, “Er… uh… are you sure you’ve got the right person?” He eyed the car.

“You stupid or something?” Conn wondered floating towards the door and vanishing inside the car, much to the driver’s confusion and surprise. He stared after Conn with wide eyes before turning to look at Adam.

“Believe it or not he's actually pretty tame for his species.” The commander sighed stepping forward and thanking the man awkwardly as he slid inside.

He wasn’t entirely sure if satisfaction was the word he’d use to describe how he felt. Everything, and he meant everything was extravagant and eccentric to the extreme. Crystal glasses, with the appropriate liquor, adjustable colored lights, heated seats in a fabric he couldn’t even name, the absolute definition of leg-room so that even Sunny was comfortable. There was a TV just above the far end turned to the news, a snack bar, a sun roof. He folded his hands in his lap afraid to touch anything for fear of damaging it.

Sunny scooted to sit next to him while Conn and Krill took the other side.

Conn leaned back in his seat, “Not bad.”

“You would say that.” Adam muttered leaning a little closer to Sunny hands pinned between his knees so as not to touch anything.

Sunny had no such qualms sprawling out like she owned the place head resting back onto a fluffy set of cushions just before the window, “Now this, I could get used to.”

Adam disagreed, there was no way that he would ever be able to get used to something like this. In fact, at this moment he was wondering what he was even doing here, hanging out in famous people’s fancy cars with private drivers. He wasn’t special enough for something like that. In fact, he was a soldier, that was it, and arguably not even a very good one. He was just some lucky son of a bitch who had alien friends and a spaceship somehow by coincidence.

He should have been happy, but felt himself wilt internally as he looked around the car at all the fancy things.

Conn watched him from across the car but said nothing.

Unfortunately for him, Sunny caught the tension glancing between him and Conn.

The were rolling out of the LAX tarmac as she spoke, “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” Adam interjected over Conn, who continued to speak through Adam.

“Boo hoo, oh woe is me, I’m not special enough enough to be here, I am just an average guy who's not even actually good at anything wa ... was.”

Adam snarled at Conn, “get the hell out of my head Conn.”

“You can’t just leave your mind dangling open for all your thoughts to flop out.”

“Thanks for phrasing the analogy that way Conn, I appreciate it.” he leaned back in his seat arms now crossed, “And yeah, I feel a bit out of place. I should be back up with my men doing something useful but here I am being treated all special by people who barely even know me. If they really did they wouldn’t be half as interesting. If they knew how half the stuff I did was pure dumb luck, or how i spend most of the scared out of my mind. How I’m not some kind of badass.” Sunny hummed deep in her chest, “Yes, the story of the man whose dumb lluck led him to being the most important human in the galaxy is totally boring. Yawn, I am falling asleep already.”

“You don’t even yawn.”

“Why do you think I said yawn instead of actually yawning then?”

He growled, “My point is, I just feel out of place.”

“Welcome to being a celebrity Adam. Having dumb luck that put you in a position for people to look up to you. You think these people got here because they are ACTUALLY special. No, they got here because their parents were famous, or because they got into good acting schools when they were kids, or because they knew a guy. All of these people got lucky, aren’t actually special, and there are plenty of people out there more talented than they are, but at this point they are so famous no one cares anymore.”

Adam sat in silence contemplating the thought, “II mean…. When you put it like that.”

“You know it's because I am always right.” Sunny said smugly.

He turned his head towards the window watching the city pass by below them. LA was the largest and one of the most ancient cities on the continent. Of course it spoke nothing of a city like Rome or London, but it was still pretty impressive. The entire place was so shiny and white mixed with delicate greenery all built on the bones of the slums. Not only was LA one of the oldest cities on the continent it was also one of the richest. The further they went the nicer the already nice buildings got reaching towards the sky all shiny and white.

Massive mansions dominated the distance with high gates and private shuttle pads.

The sky above them was dominated by flying cars, private shuttles, and the occasional jet. One mansion they passed by was so big, it seemed as if the front facade went on for almost a mile intertwined with many decorative fountains and trimmed hedges upkeep exclusively by robots.

They turned down another street heading into the city with expensive outlet malls and large flashy brand names that probably cost as much as the warp core used to power his ship. He was both parts intimidated and stunned leaning towards the window to stare at all the strange people that walked the sidewalks.

He turned his head following a very excessively dressed man in a tailored ball gown that took up most of the sidewalk.

Where he grew up in the suburbs, there had been people who dressed according to plenty of other time periods, but the trend had been early 2000s mostly thanks to his mother who performed the modest almost utilitarian style of their clothing plus they had never been rich enough to afford new fashion. Jeans were cheap, easy to make, a staple of the poor masses. Not that they had been poor poor per say, after the war his father worked as a farmhand for Megafarm producing millions of pounds of produce, while his mother had quit teaching to pursue business in talor-making period accurate clothing for those who were into that sort of thing. As a result, his family had been middle middle class.

But this…. This was for the 1%. A place he had never even dreamed of seeing.

He looked down at himself again, shabby jeans, black T-shirt and a hand me down leather jacket from his older brother David, which had seen better days.

He sunk down in his seat.

They took another corner and pulled up to the gate. He craned his neck to look out the window glancing up to the large sign hanging over the gate which read.

HOLLYWOOD STUDIOS.

Named for the ancient strip of land which produced many of the early movies when film was in its infancy. Once famous for the land and the people who lived there, it was now famous for being the highest grossing film studio EVER. A powerhouse of film that practically monopolized the world of action. While a lot of people demonized the studio for being a monopoly on film, Adam could see why.

They made some good shit.

The gate buzzed open and they were driven inside. He HAD to get a better look rolling open the skylight and standing to look out the top of the car. Hundreds of people dressed in costumes, carrying props, cameras, equipment. Mouth open like an idiot he stared through open warehouse doors and onto virtual projected sets on which actors stood in full costume, or in motion capture suits. Camera men walked around in massive exoskeletons controlling up to ten cameras at once.

A dog trotted past with a handler, a dog that Vir recognized from plenty of movies in which she had starred tail wagging tongue lolling. He dropped back inside the car with wide eyes staring at Sunny who was also looking out the window with wide eyes.

The car came to a stop towards the end of the strip, but then picked up again rolling into one of the giant warehouses and pulling to a stop. The engine cut, and the doors opened. He stepped out thanking the Driver.

“Commander Vir! Just who I wanted to see!” He turned just in time to catch Director Ellis, or more like be blinded by him, as he skipped up wearing his strange sequin suit and cat-eye glasses. Instead of going for the handshake the man grabbed him by the shoulders and shook him, “It’s so exciting to finally have you here. You will be so excited to see what we have done. Just like you said, being as accurate as possible’ it's been a real challenge, but I assure you, you will be so proud. We have done so much research, and I have talked to experts everywhere”

A mousy little woman scuttled after him holding two cups of coffee looking frazzled and exhausted as she tried to keep up with her boss.

Members of the crew looked up from where they were standing and a few exclamations of awe went up, and he couldn’t blame them, aliens were pretty cool. Despite Conn being a total asshole, he cut an impressive figure of billowing white ribbon and slow ethereal movement.

The man pulled back eyes widening at Conn, “You will be an absolute bitch to animate,”

“Match his personality.” Sunny quipped stepping out of the car.

She was greeted excessively by the director as well as Krill.

A sizable crowd had gathered, and Adam stepped back intending to allow his non-human friends the attention they deserved.

That’s not exactly what ended up happening. Stepping out of the circle he heard a shriek that made him nearly leap out of his skin. He turned to find a young woman with large glasses wearing a grey suit and pencil skirt. There was a pile of papers and a clipboard on the ground at her feet like she had dropped them.

Her eyes were wide as she stared at him mouth open.

“Er…… are you ok?” He ventured leaning down to pick up her papers.

When he stood back up she was still frozen her eyes wide. He offered her papers back.

That broke her from her frozen state but beginning with her hands which started to shake frantically in front of her. The shaking grew wider and wider, her expression grew more excited and she began to leap up and down squealing, “No way, no way…. No way no way no way.” That devolved until she was simply squealing with excitement.

Adam stepped back in shock and confusion, “It’s really you I can't believe it!”

She rushed forward arms out then paused, “Can I?” Her expression was so innocent and excited, her eyes so wide that he didn’t know how to respond.

“Er ...sure.”

She nearly broke his back wrapping her arms around him and squealing in delight again knocking her glasses askew. He grunted as the breath was crushed from his lungs. Despite being tiny she was surprisingly strong, and he felt his feet lightening upon the ground hands held out to the side still clutching her clipboard.

She stepped back after a moment with a big smile, her glasses canted at an awkward angle, “Can i get a picture with you.” She begged

He glanced over his shoulder still not convinced that she hadn’t mistaken him for someone, “Um, Are you sure. I Maybe you have the wrong person.”

She shook her head vigorously giggling, “No, I’d know you anywhere. Commander Vir, the first man to meet sentient life, participated in the Drev war, commanding the first fleet of interstellar ships. You are my HERO.” She looked at him with eyes so wide, so innocent and starstruck that he hardly knew what to say.

He wondered if maybe he was dreaming.

“Picture?” She pleaded

“Um ... uh yeah, sure I guess.” She squealed again this time causing him to drop her clipboard as she grabbed him by the arm pulled him in and whipped out her phone snapping at least ten pictures of them before letting him go. “Mr. Vir it is such an honor.” She was saying, “I’ve read everything about you, all the declassified transmissions. Like that time you saved an alien race from extinction, or that time you ran a marathon on a A-1 death planet, or or like the three times you've saved entire planets.”

“Oh I…. really?”

She nodded, “Yes, Mr. Vir.”

He rubbed the back of his neck, “You can just call me Adam.”

He was nearly defined in the next moment as she shrieked again and hugged him.

“What’s your name?”

She put her hands over her mouth eyes wide, “S-samantha, but- but my friends call me Sammy…..You can call me Sammy.” He blinked in confused surprise and a bit of self consciousness feeling himself go a bit red.

She may have been star struck, but he was sort of struck by her being star struck. This had to be some sort of dream, even more confusing when he realized the circle of people he assumed had been there for his alien companions had ll circled themselves around him.

Men and women, stage crew, and actors in motion capture suits gathered around wide eyed and smiling.

He spun in a slight circle staring around at all the faces.

A man stepped from the crowd, a young guy in a motion capture suit. He held out a hand, “Commander, Ezra Hemming. I Well I guess I’m the stunt double for…. For your stunt double? Keith Jenning.”

“So? You’ll be doing all the legwork?”

The young man blushed.” I guess you could say that.”

Did he seriously seem nervous? It seemed so strange, and all these people were looking at him, approaching him, wanting to talk to him. It was insane, he shook so many hands learned so many names in such a short amount of time. At some point there was a hydraulic hiss, and the crowd around him parted.

A woman walked towards them elevated on a set of robotic stilt legs, wearing a motion capture suit, and an exoskeleton that gave her an extra set of arms. Vir felt his mouth drop open. Rita Ortiz… the penultimate action hero casting choice, and someone he had a boyish crush on for…. Well a couple of years now.

In her exo suit, she was as tall as sunny, which he assumed was the point, “Commander.” She said politely.

“Ms. Ortiz…. Er…. Can I….. get your autograph.” He stammered out feeling stupid almost immediatly, but to his surprse she broke into a wide smile.

“I was about to ask you the same thing. Make it a deal and trade mine for yours.”

He choked with a rather sporadic laugh not believing her in the slightest.

Some of the crowd finally noticed his alien friends and Ms. Ortiz seemed especially interested in sunny, for obvious reasons. The two stepped up to each other examining the other with a critical eye.

Sunny seemed pleased.

Samantha lurked next to him, and he had a feeling she was trying to be discreet, but it wasn’t working. He was still wigging out about this hardly able to believe it. At some point, someone grabbed him and dragged him towards the director's chair where Ellis was was talking to some of the writers.

He turned in his chair, “Adam…. May I call you Adam, Good, the writers and I were just going over the script, and well we have run into a few snags. You gave us a pretty detailed explanation on some of the things that happened, but this part right here, the part where you lose your leg….. It's very vague.”

Adam shuffled his feet awkwardly glancing over to where Sunny was showing the actress how to more properly move like a Drev. A few of the VFX people were there as well examining her armor, its color and debating how best to reproduce that in post.

“Well I….. It was taken off during the Drev war.”

“I mean, yeah we got that, and not to push but…. Unless you want us to cut that part out.”

He glanced again towards Sunny.

“I…. its hard to talk about.”

A hand on his shoulder, “I understand, I quite understand….”

He mulled it over for a minute while the writers were talking heart hammering in his chest. He had never told Sunny…. Never really explained about his post traumatic stress related to that incident. Never really mentioned how long it took him to trust her, and he never would.

He'd never fess up to the nightmares.

Because he didn’t want them to matter anymore.

“I can’t explain it to you but…. I can show you.” The group of them turned almost surprised, and he was honestly surprised at himself too. What he was about to do…. It was a bigger deal than any of them might assume.

“Sunny!” he turned, and the bright blue alien trotted over humming happily the way that Drev did. She seemed so happy, nothing like the creature in his dreams, his friend, his best friend.

“Yes?”

“I…. Well I need to show them how I lost my leg, hard to explain, so I thought we might show them.”

He watched Sunny carefully, and was probably the only one who noticed the slight wilt in her shoulders. The guilt flashing in her gold eyes…. Of course the thing in his dreams would never have felt that way, “Oh ... are you sure.”

He cleared his throat waving it off, “Of course, here.” he stepped forward motioning around the room, “I remember the rocks being sort of like this. There was a shallow sort of bowl like a pocket and some rocks here. There were actually a Tesraki and a rundi soldier right there, and I was over here.”

The crew, following his words began moving around the greenscreen landscape creating the sort of space that he was talking about.

“Now I had one of those older models M-23s pieces of shit, and a knife.” He reached out for the prop weapon offered to him, “And the drev had a spear.” He glanced towards Sunny, who was looking very, very uncomfortable, but someone handed her the prop spear. She looked down at it and swivel it in her hand like the thing was an extension of her body.

She didn’t seem particularly satisfied but didn’t say anything. He moved up onto the fake terrain, and she did the same looking over at him with concern. It was almost as if she knew that even though he had never bothered to tell her.

He came up one side of the set while she came up the other; she had the spear held out ready, and he had the gun up. Of course, he dropped it on it’s sling when it supposedly overheated,

He remembered this like it had been yesterday, how the rock had felt under his feet, the panic he had felt for the two defenseless soldiers she was stalking. He remembered panicking when the gun malfunctioned, he remembered how he wasn’t thinking straight. He remembered making the decision that cost him his leg.

He didn’t bother trying to go easy on her, catching her around the neck and raising his hand with the collapsable knife.

The world began to spin, and before his eyes he saw the ash and fire.

He heard the gunfire felt his body moving as it once had. Saw the dark shadow, heard the screaming and felt the hot air over his body. He remembered the knife biting into her skin. He remembered being thrown to the ground.

Set lights flashed around him as he slammed into the floor, padded but still painful as he rolled to the side. Sunny’s foot came down right next to his head as he rolled to the side cutting at her heels.

The creature reached down to grab him, but he rolled to his feet cutting at the hand.

He remembered the sweat trickling down his body from the great heat of the volcanoes. He remembered how the ash had coated the stone making things strangely slippery. He remembered the poorly equipped gear and the oversized shoes.

He remembered slipping backwards landing hard on his back as the spear cut downwards.

He remembered bone cracking and flesh splitting in half.

He braced for pain but none came. The fire died, the ash vanished, and he found himself on the ground hands over his face, a spear tip lightly grazing the outer carapace of his prosthetic leg. Sunny stood over him spear held in one of her lower arms. Though her posture was ready for a fight, her eyes….. So much more expressive than that of the creature he remembered from his vision, looked at him in worry and something that looked like pain.

He lay on the ground looking up at her, at her mercy, just like he had been on that day.

And he knew she wouldn’t hurt him.

She withdrew the spear and stepped back offering one hand to him.

He didn’t hesitate to take it, and she hauled him to his feet.

Together, they turned to look at the spectators who were looking on in awe,and shock.

Quietly sunny began, “Our orders were to remove their limbs…. In our culture Disability IS death. We thought that simply removing their limbs would stop them…. We were wrong.”

Adam tried to keep his voice light, “I don't remember much, but I crawled about ….50 feet down that hill before someone managed to find me and stabilize me. The leg was completely gone, no hope of reattaching something that’s just gone.”

“That was….. Intense.” Ellis finally cut in, “We should have had some cameras rolling dammit. Can we recreate that!” He began ordering his men around, and for a moment, the two of them were forgotten in the crowd. He stood there quietly noticing on the instant as two pairs of arms wrapped themselves around him. Enveloping him in an armored hug that almost completely encased him…. Safe.

A voice at his ear.

“Don’t EVER make me do that again.”

He placed a hand over hers, “Never, I promise.”

492 notes · View notes

msilwrites · 4 years

Text

The Strange Woman

A/N: Errr... so I thought of just writing this while at home. Enjoy! I just want to add that I'm tired of female characters surrender to their men so easily... or needing their protection all the time... Why can't we have a female lead of equal footing?

Genre: Action/ Drama / Comedy

Sandro Balestreri - Michele Morrone

Tilly McLeod - is an original female character

The Strange Woman

(Written in Sandro’s POV)

My Tio often said that a perfect spouse is someone who you will fit exactly with because you can weather any storm together. He was probably talking about his wife, my Tia. He was one of the few who was lucky enough to find the right woman. But in this life and world of mine, it is hard to find the right partner, it was like finding a needle in a haystack, moreover I’ve long given up with that thought. Though I never had to chase a woman as many of them vyed for my attention, no one had actually held my attention for long nor have they gotten my entire affection. Everything I felt for them was just lust and was fleeting. I had no intention of entering a relationship, nor do I want to get married. Which is why I am wondering how did I end up sitting in front of a strange English woman, drinking afternoon tea at the back garden of a hotel in Mayfair, going through this arrange ‘marriage’ meeting.

Tilly McLeod was not the type of woman I usually went for. She was not sexy, hot, and sultry nor did she stir up anything inside me when I first looked at her. Don’t get me wrong, she isn’t ugly. In fact, she looked elegant, and was very prim and proper. Though she had a sense of style, her way of dressing was a little conservative compared to the women I’m used to, she only showed a right amount of skin and it wasn’t even the parts I wanted.

In fact, her sense of style reminded me of that VOGUE chief in editor, what’s her name again? Was it Anna? I don’t really care if other women considered her stylish because they looked boring and dry to me. If my Tia’s idea of a fine woman and a perfect wife for me is someone who is a stick in the mud, well then she’s certainly found one.

My Tia... she just told me one day that she had found the perfect partner for me and I should fly to London and meet her. At first, I was confused. Everyone in my family knows that I didn’t plan to get tied down. I like my life the way it is. But then she brought up about me having a heir and my horrible taste in women and never stopped harping about it. When she couldn’t convince me, she had to remind me of my grandfather’s will and told me to treat it as some sort of merger, merging with the McLeod family wasn’t such a bad thing. It would after all, expand their family business faster.

Ah... my grandfather’s will. Find the right woman, make her your wife or get nothing. I actually didn’t mind not inheriting anything from the late old man. After all, I have earned my own keep and wealth, and inherited a lot more from my late father. However, that trickster of an old man knew how to find my weakness. The vineyard that I love and had been passed in our family for generations would be sold away. It’s not that I couldn’t buy it if it happens, but that late scoundrel had specifically prevented me from even purchasing the vineyard.

“Ahemm...” Tilly cleared her throat as she puts down the cup of tea on the table. She takes lifts her eyes and stares right back at me with a smile. In fact there was something wrong about her that I couldn’t pinpoint.

“Thank You for meeting me here today, Sandro!” she greets cordially. “I’m already aware of the situation, so there is nothing to worry about.”

Situation? So she was already briefed then. “ I see, that’s good!” was my short answer. I didn’t really want to prolong this meeting.

“However, before I marry you, I have some conditions...” she mentions, before taking an envelope from her bag and handing it to me. If it was a prenup, I sure had no problem with it.

“Is this a prenup?” I asked

“No...” was her quick reply, before taking a bite of biscuits and washing it down with her tea. “Open and read it...” she instructed.

I did open the envelope out of curiosity and read through the list. Her list of requests wasn’t so strange until I read some parts of it.

“I want my own cottage with a workshop and a greenhouse not far from your estate or inside your estate”.

“The cottage should look the same as the one I have here...”

“Whilst my cottage is not yet built, I want my own room and have it renovated to my taste”

“ We’re going to have children through artificial insemination”

The conditions she wrote made me cock my brows. Especially the last one.

“What’s with these conditions?!” I looked at her and gave her my most intimidating gaze, but her blue eyes looked right back at me, unafraid, when mosts would be looking away by now.

“I’m sure it’s not too hard? Right?” she answered. “ It wouldn’t probably be a burden to your finances, as I will be paying for the construction, nor do you have to force yourself to like me and force yourself to get stiff and intimate with me. And I think it we will have to do ‘conception’ repeatedly to have a child, and I don’t think we’re both capable of- ” it was direct and frank, and I didn’t like it.

“Stop.” I warned as I clenched my teeth and fist. This woman had just bruised my ego. She just insulted my capability financially and sexually, she quickly noticed my shift in mood, making her sit up straight. “ I’ll provide you you your own room and have it renovated to your taste. I will also provide you a space in my estate to build that cottage-workshop of yours, as soon as you send the blue prints. You don’t have to spend anything. As for the issue of having children we will talk about it when the time comes.”

“Huh? But why? I am well aware that I not your cup of tea, nor do you find me attractive. So let’s make it easier for the both of us, Sandro, and I will be out of your hair” she smiled. “Oh, I might as well add. Do you need my assistance in handling ‘things’, or do you want to me to be completely out of your hair?”

“Out of my hair would be good...” I said, not really wanting her to be involved in my life and get in the way of my work. As far as my experience tells me, mosts women tend to be unhealthy distractions. Like what my late father told me before, they are a hell for the soul. Though it seems that Tilly won’t be a distraction at all. I still don’t want anyone get in the way with how I do things.

“Well then... since you said it yourself why don’t you agree to my terms? It is simple, isn’t it? Since this is an arranged marriage. Let me add that you can still continue living your life as a bachelor, playing around with other women or go partying with your blokes and I won’t say anything. Just don’t let me know or catch you? Alright?”

I leaned back and looked at her, intrigued. If she wanted me to continue living my life as a bachelor after getting married, then why does she have a problem with it? “Why?”

“What do you mean why? Of course, as a woman, I still have some pride...” was her simple answer. It was not satisfactory, but yet understandable.

“Well then, Matilda, I am looking forward to getting married to you, see you at our wedding day...” I stretched out my hand for a handshake and she took them, her grip was surprisingly strong as she shook them.

“Likewise...”

The Next Part of this story is here; ‘Addio Al Celibato’

A/N: I will be editing this for grammar purposes. I hope you enjoyed the story. FYI. It will be a series of one shots

#Mafia #IronLady #Iron Lady #Independent Woman #Michele Morrone #Michele Morrone Face Claim #Michele Morrone Fan Fiction #Michele Morrone Fanfiction #Original Female Character #Michele Morrone x OFC #Michele Morrone x Original Female Character #Michele Morrone x OC #Original Character #Original Story #Massimo Torricelli #Massimo Torricelli Face Claim #Massimo Torricelli Inspired #Drama #Comedy

37 notes · View notes

blurry-fics · 4 years

Text

Chapter Twelve

Where Did We Go | Series Masterlist

Warnings: Angst, angry!Tyler

Word Count: 2049

Author’s Note: Happy Valentine’s Day! I hope you enjoy this chapter today :) (picture credit)

I idly drew doodles in the margins of my notepad as the team droned on about some matter that didn’t really concern me. My head was so heavy on my hand that I knew it would leave a mark when I finally pulled away, but I didn’t care. Next to me, Josh actually seemed to be paying attention, but he was still drumming his fingers on the table. I liked the beat.

Another song lyric floated through my brain, so I quickly wrote it down beneath the others before it got away from me. Lately, it felt like the only thing these meetings were good for was coming up with fragments of song lyrics and making my throat sore. Nothing else productive ever seemed to get done.

“We got the visuals back from the artists. I have some stills here, but you should all be receiving an email tonight with the full videos for review.”

Now this actually seemed interesting. I scribbled down the words “visual review” in the corner of my page, ripped it off, and stuck it into my pocket. Nobody seemed to notice.

“We think that the visuals are adequate, but not exactly as we intended.”

We?

“And as a result, we’re thinking about cutting the payment of the artists. This will also save us some room in the budget to put elsewhere.”

I leaned forward in my chair. People’s eyes immediately went to me, anticipating what I was about to say.

“Cutting the artist’s pay? How do we know if their work is ‘adequate’ or not if my team hasn’t even had a chance to do a full review?”

“Well our artistic board-”

“Exactly, your artistic board. Last time I checked, your artistic board isn’t the one putting on a show,” I said. “And no matter how we feel about the visuals, the artists did the work and deserve full payment for their time and effort.”

“But they didn’t deliver-”

“They did. The visuals were done to the best of their ability and provided by the deadline that we gave them. We’re giving them full payment and my team can decide whether the work is satisfactory or not.”

“I’m sorry, Mr. Joseph, but then we’re going to have to raise ticket prices to make up for the losses.”

“What is all this crap about raising ticket prices?” My voice was getting louder now. “We gave you the budget months ago! Everything was laid out with enough money to cover all costs and keep ticket prices exactly where we wanted them, but your company decided to put things off until it didn’t work anymore.” Josh reached out and put a hand on my back. My shoulders relaxed, but my voice remained raised. “Our fans are not in charge of paying the price for your poor choices. That art looks fantastic and, if I’m being honest, the only people here that aren’t delivering satisfactory work is you.”

I stood up then, sending my chair flying out behind me. Josh’s hand fell away from my back. I turned on my heel and headed for the door, still fuming.

“Where are you going?” someone asked. I couldn’t place the voice.

“I’m taking a break. I’ll be back in ten.”

I walked down the hallway, unsure of where I was going, until I found a sign marked with the stairs. My hands were curled into fists at my side until my nails were digging into my palms. It had been a long time since I was this angry, but the stupidity of the company we had chosen to put on this tour was sending me over the edge. Tour was only a week and a half away and it still felt like we had more loose ends than we did answers.

Most of all, I hated that this was what I was missing out on time with my family for.

I pulled my phone out of my pocket and immediately dialed Y/N’s number. She would know what to say to get me calm again before I walked back into that conference room. My leg bounced as the phone rang, alleviating only a small portion of the emotions I was feeling. They were quickly getting overwhelming.

“Tyler?” she answered. Just that simple word was enough to release some of the tension in my shoulders.

“Hi, love.”

“What’s going on? Aren’t you supposed to be in a meeting right now?”

I pinched the bridge of my nose, “Yes, but it’s not going well. I just blew up on the company representative.”

“Oh no,” she sighed. “What are they trying to get you to do today?”

“Raise ticket prices again! It doesn’t matter how many times I tell them I don’t want to do that, they won’t let it go.”

“Ty, hey, it’s ok. At the end of the day, you still have the power in this situation.”

“I know, I’m sorry.”

“Is there somewhere else that you can cut costs a little bit? Weren’t you talking about maybe switching out some of the fancier effects for something a little simpler?”

“Yeah, there’s definitely places that we could do it, they just don’t like to listen to those ideas as much. It’s hard to convince them that it would actually help the budget.”

“I know, but it’s worth a shot. It’s like I’ve been saying, you and Josh just need to team up and get your ideas in there. Plus, you have Mark to back you up too. The power is there.”

“I’ll talk to them before the next meeting and really get things solid. I hate to ignore the progress that we are making, but the problems just feel so much bigger right now.”

“You’re going to get this worked out, Ty. I know you will. Think of how much you’ve been through to get here. Even if, at the end of the day, things don’t work out exactly how you want them to, you know people will be happy as long as you’re there singing the songs with them. You were popular even before you had the big productions.”

I sighed. “You’re right. I’ll try to keep that in mind. I just get so wrapped up in this vision that Josh and I created that I forget it’s the music that really matters. Thank you.”

“Of course. I know the show is going to be great no matter what you end up doing.”

“You always know the right thing to say,” I smiled.

“It’s a talent of mine,” she laughed.

“I just wish that I wasn’t stuck at this stupid meeting today.”

“It’s ok, Ty,” she said, but I could tell that her tone had changed. “You’re doing important band stuff. We’ll have a break soon enough.”

“I hope so.”

Our conversation was interrupted by the door to the stairs swinging open. Josh’s head poked through the door, quickly scanning the area. Relief came over his face as soon as he saw me.

“There you are. We need you back in the conference room. Things are happening.”

“Ok, let me finish this up and then I’ll be there.”

Josh nodded and disappeared again, letting the door swing shut behind him. I waited for it to fully close before I started talking to Y/N again.

“Sorry about that. Josh showed up.”

“I heard.”

“Anyway, I guess they need me back there.”

“Time to let you go?”

“Yeah.”

“Alright. I love you, and don’t let them get to you, ok, Ty? I know you can find a way to put on the show you’ve been dreaming about.”

“Thank you, Y/N. I love you too.”

“Bye.”

“Wait.”

“Yeah?”

“Did you remember that I’m going over to my parents’ tonight for dinner?”

“I remember now,” she laughed. It sounded forced.

“Ok.”

“Good luck, Ty.”

“Thanks.”

“Bye.”

I ended the call, now feeling a different sort of discomfort in my chest. It took me a moment to finally get off the steps and walk out the door back towards the conference room. My mind was running its endless loop of questions, but no matter where I looked, I came up with no answers. It felt like a weight in my head, dragging me further and further down.

I hadn’t felt that way in a long time.

* * *

The meeting finally ended around four that night. There was another one scheduled for the next day - which the company claimed would be the last additional meeting we had to schedule - although after today’s events, I was feeling hopeful. They were finally starting to listen to the ideas that Josh and I had, helped along by the fact that Y/N had given me a new sense of confidence about the show. After a few more emails and phone calls, I was sure that things would finally start coming together.

My mom was the one to open the door when I knocked. She immediately pulled me into a hug, squeezing me tight enough that I nearly coughed. I didn’t blame her, I had only been able to find enough time to see my family once since I had gotten home from tour a week and a half ago, and most of my siblings hadn’t even been around. This time had been a little more planned so that Zack and Maddy would be able to stop by too.

“I’ve missed you so much,” my mom said, pressing a kiss to the top of my head.

“I’ve missed you too, Mom.”

I went around and hugged each of my siblings and my dad. It was nice to have everyone together again for a family dinner. The last time we had a get together like this was before the Australian leg of the tour nearly a month and a half ago.

“Dinner is already ready, if you guys want to eat. I made it early since I figured you would be hungry after your meeting, Tyler.”

“Thanks,” I smiled.

Everyone stayed pretty quiet, aside from small talk, as we dished up our food. I was sure that my family was full of questions to ask me, but they knew better than to try and ask before I was settled at the table. Right now, my mind was on food and food only.

We eventually all sat down at the table in the places that we had been assigned since childhood. Once everyone was comfortable and had taken a couple bites of food, the questions slowly began to come out.

“How was your meeting today, Tyler?” my dad asked.

“It was alright. I kind of blew up on the representative today-”

“Tyler,” my mom chimed in. Zack barely concealed a laugh.

“Mom, listen, it’s only because they keep trying to make us raise ticket prices even though we’ve had the budget planned out for weeks. It didn’t matter how many times I told them that wasn’t going to happen, they kept insisting.”

My mom kept a disappointed look on her face, but deep down I could tell that she knew I was right. From day one, she had always made sure that I knew staying true to myself was vital as I continued to pursue music. That advice had stuck with me since.

“Are they starting to listen though?” Maddy asked. “I mean, there’s only like a week and a half until tour starts, right?”

“Yeah, they’re finally coming around. Josh and I have been fighting with them pretty much all week, though. They’re bringing us in for another meeting tomorrow.”

“Another one?” Jay asked.

“They flew Josh in?” Zack chimed in right after.

“Yes and yes. That’s how big of a problem all of this is.”

“Geez,” my dad said. “That sounds intense.”

“It is. I’m barely hanging on by a thread here.”

My mom reached over and reassuringly rubbed my shoulder. “You’re safe here, Tyler. We’re not going to let you fall.”

I quickly glanced around the table to see that the rest of my family was nodding along with my mom. Warmth spread throughout my chest at knowing that they still had my back, even if I couldn’t always make as much time as I wanted to for them. At the end of the day, they were still my family.

We’re not going to let you fall.

* * * * *

Taglist

@tylersheavydirtysoul @faceofcontvsions @ohprettyweeper @shaytwentyonep @tyler-josephs-floof @angelicopioid @topownsmyheart @harishaanne @addictwithaheavydirtycheetah @somethingboutyou1 @boiled-onionrings @heythereitm3 @gaysludge @breadbinishigh @5secondsofmoxley @patdsinner33 @littlerachelbee @royal-avengers

28 notes · View notes

petuniatom · 5 years

Text

Weekend Warrior || Musician!Tom x Reader

Pairing: Musician!Tom x Reader

Summary: “We’ve got to quit bumping into parties like this,” he said, pressing kisses along your neck. The thoughts of the beer on your shirt were suddenly gone.

You giggled and shook your head. “Are you sure you want to stop?”

OR: You’re a part-time groupie for Tom’s band.

Word count: 1.3K (she’s short OK)

Warnings: Smut!!

A/N: So I’m working on N1PA ch. 3 and another long one shot (title to come for that one), but I wanted to post something small and fun. I wrote this last night in about an hour. Enjoy!!

There’d been nothing quite like watching Tom perform up on the stage. You’d been enraptured by him since the first time you’d seen him sing nearly two years ago. His voice was surprisingly softer than you would have thought, and often acted as a beautiful contrast to the instrumentals.

In private, he was even better. You’d met him shortly after that first show at a restaurant around the corner, told him you were a fan, and soon enough, ended up crashing in his bunk on his tour bus. Then, you thought that was the only time you were ever going to see Tom like that, but that one-night stand soon turned into a whole array of hookups.

Since that first day of seeing his band play, you’d been following him ever since. If you knew he was playing close by and on a weekend, you would drive out to go see him, and typically, follow him for a few shows after that if you could manage it. Back when you were a teenager, you would watch “Almost Famous” and dream about the fun of a groupie life. You’d never thought you’d actually be living it part-time.

Now, you were at an after-party for one of his shows. You hadn’t seen Tom yet, but you knew he was around somewhere. At the very least, he knew you were here as well, so you weren’t worried about him missing you tonight. Sometimes it just took him a bit to shower and get ready after a concert.

You were sipping on a beer when you first caught his eye. He was chatting with a friend of his, a notable model, when you made eye-contact. You saw his lips curl up in a teasing smile, and you grew excited. You knew exactly what you were getting yourself into tonight. The girl he was talking to didn’t notice that Tom had become distracted, and you couldn’t help smiling more at the thought. You loved that this whole thing between you and Tom had stayed so much of a secret.

You felt someone bump into you and yelped as some of your beer spilled out the bottle. The guy who stumbled started apologizing, and you surveyed the damage on your shirt. It wasn’t bad, but it could use a bit of a clean-up.

“No worries,” you responded. “I’ll go fix up.”

You glanced around the room, hoping to make eye contact again with Tom. Now, he was gone.

You let out a long sigh and headed to the bathroom. As you entered the hallway, you were yanked into a closet and you let out a small yelp.

The light above you flicked on, and you grinned when you saw Tom’s face. His mouth immediately pressed against your own and you laughed.

“We’ve got to quit bumping into parties like this,” he said, pressing kisses along your neck. The thoughts of the beer on your shirt were suddenly gone.

You giggled and shook your head. “Are you sure you want to stop?”

He paused and looked into your eyes as he answered, “Absolutely not.” Then, a shit-eating grin appeared across his face. You laughed again, then rolled your eyes.

“You’re so predictable.”

He hummed. “I know. Now c’mere love. I missed you.”

His lips pressed against yours again, as he pushed you further back against the wall. Your hands ran up to his side, pulling his tee-shirt off his chest. He let you cast it aside, but stopped you from taking off more.

“We gotta make this quick, so maybe hold off on the stripping more than you need to,” he reminded you.

You pouted. “I want to feel you.” You tugged him by the belt buckle of his jeans closer to you, and let one of your hands palm his cock through the denim. He moaned and shook his head.

“I know. But later, we’ll- we’ll really do the whole damn thing. We’ve only got a few minutes before someone catches on.”

You sighed, then nodded your head.

“Great, panties off then love,” he instructed. He started unbuckling his belt and pushing down his pants slightly. You let your lacy underwear slide down your legs. You glanced back in enough time to see Tom bite his lip as he rolled a condom onto his cock. He growled when he saw the look in your eyes.

“What’s the matter babe?” you teased.

Tom shook his head. “You little vixen.” He hoisted you up, letting your legs wrap around his torso. “Are you ready do you think?”

You nodded your head. “Please.”

He let one of his fingers feel along your entrance, testing truly whether you were prepared. It must have been satisfactory, since the next thing you knew, he was inside of you with one swift thrust.

You moaned loudly. One of Tom’s hands immediately came up to cover his mouth.

“Remember, we gotta stay quiet. OK? Tell me you understand.”

You murmured, “Yes sir.” And he growled out, thrusting into you again.

If you were being totally honest with yourself, you wouldn’t trade anything for these moments you got to have with Tom. Though they were often in weird places, like closets, bathrooms, or elsewhere, these were the times you felt truly uninhibited. You let yourself be wild and throw away all your concerns.

He was addicting and mind-numbing. You knew if you got too close, you’d collapse from the intensity of it. So you let yourself be high with the adrenaline of Tom only sparingly, and let that keep you going for the next couple of weeks.

He was still thrusting into you. Your hands were cupping his face, bringing him close to you. You weren’t kissing, but his face was close enough to you to where your noses were touching. You saw the animalistic glint in his eyes, and you knew you’d gotten to the point of it that you’d always craved with Tom — the part of sex where you were one merged body just aching to see how close you could possibly get.

His mouth then connected with yours again as his thrusts picked up.

“Fuck,” you murmured. “Fucking hell Tom.”

He grinned. “Oh kitten, how I’ve missed you.”

“I’m close. How much longer do you need?”

“Not long. I’m on the edge too.” One of his hands started rubbing your clit, and you cried out.

“Keep doing that,” you said. Your hips were now hitting his. He moved his hand more furiously, until finally, you felt something inside you snap.

You moaned into Tom’s shoulder as you came. Your hands went down to his arms and squeezed them tightly as you writhed against him. He came shortly after, moaning into your neck.

For a minute, you stayed in your position. You held each other as your breaths began to slow down. Tom lifted his head up from your shoulder to look you in the eye and he laughed. His hair looked mussed, and his eyes were wild. You knew as soon as you both stepped out of the closest, everyone would know immediately what you’d done. There was no mistaking the sweaty sheen on your skin for anything else.

You let your legs uncoil from around Tom’s waist and tried to straighten yourself out. It was hard, since you didn’t have a mirror to fix your hair, and instead depended on your phone’s camera to pull yourself together. You noticed in your peripheral vision Tom was starting to put on his shirt.

“How was that?” you asked.

Tom grinned as he slid his shirt over his body. “Great, as always.” He passed you your panties. “I’ve missed you. How long are you around for?”

“Just for the weekend,” you replied. “I came for your show, but I fly back out on Sunday.”

“And… you booked a hotel nearby?” You nodded your head. “Why don’t you stay with me this weekend instead? I can take you out for breakfast tomorrow or something. And then… we can talk more.”

You studied him. “You want that?”

He nodded his head. “Yeah, I do.”

#tom holland smut #tom holland x reader #tom holland imagine #musician!tom #tom holland #tom holland x y/n #tom holland oneshot #my writing #YEEHAW

131 notes · View notes

rawresparza · 5 years

Note

How about a fic that includes the words "penetrative gaze"? Please and thank you?

LMAO welp… This is the best I could come up with, anon, hope you find it satisfactory enough ^__^

–

“‘Mr. Barba’s closing argument for the case is effective, with his penetrative gaze directed firmly at an enraptured jury, but one does have to wonder whether their attention is on his words or the way his silk purple and pink-flowered tie seem to bring out the green of his eyes.’”

By the time Rafael has crossed the room to snatch the magazine out of Sonny’s hands, Sonny has already abandoned it in favor of clutching at his stomach while he doubles over with laughter.

“Shut up,” Rafael snaps, grabbing the discarded magazine and glancing at the photo that accompanies the utterly humiliating article Sonny had just been reading aloud before slapping it back down on the table at the foot of the couch. At least they’d picked a good photo, Jeanine Krantz had done him just one favor there.

Jeanine is a regular at hearings, one of the reporters who’s always shoving a microphone in his face begging for a statement but also one of the few who manages to do it with more than the composure of a panicked wildebeest. When she’d asked if she could include him in an article she was writing about a glimpse into the lives of some of Manhattan’s finest prosecutors, Rafael hadn’t initially realized it would be for a fluff piece in fucking Esquire. He’d let the flattery get the best of him, he has no choice but to admit it, and now he’ll be paying for in the form of mockery for god knows how long.

“I liked that one part, too,” Sonny says, one hand resting on his belly as he sprawls back on the couch, grinning like a man who definitely won’t be letting this go anytime soon. “You know, the part where she asks whether you’re single or not, and she wrote that you ‘ducked your head before offering up what one who might not know any better might say is a bashful smile.’”

Rafael’s cheeks flush red but he crosses his arms of his chest. “How could you possibly have already memorized it?”

“Because it’s sweet, babe,” Sonny says, patting the limited space left on the couch next to him then chuckling when Rafael merely lifts his chin defensively. “Oh, come on, it is! Almost as cute as the time we ran into Judge Barth at that one musical, the one about the cats, and you got all stammery and blushy then blurted out I was your boyfriend.”

“It was Cats, Sonny. The musical about the cats was Cats.”

“Mm-hmm.” Sonny quirks a brow, winking. “You love me.”

Rafael groans, flicking a dismissive wrist. “If you don’t stop, I’m going to kill you.”

“With your penetrative gaze?”

“Oh, my god.” Sonny straightens up on the couch, beckoning for him again and this time, Rafael comes, though not without heaving a dramatic sigh. “You’re never going to let me live this article down, are you?”

“Not for a good long while,” Sonny tells him, nodding solemnly. His features soften then, his tone turning more sincere. “Hey, I know it’s not what you expected but I still liked it. The only downside is you’ll probably end up with a little fan club and I’ll have to compete with everyone in it for your affections.”

Rafael scowls even as he kicks his feet up on the table, inching downward on his cushion so he can rest the back of his head against Sonny’s chest. Sonny curls his arm around Rafael, lacing their fingers together and brushing his lips over Rafael’s hair. In spite of his embarrassment, he can’t say he’s all too upset the fuss has led to this particular moment with this particular man, this man he does love, even if he is still working on being able to say it with as much ease as Sonny does.

“Did you say ‘little’ fan club?” he asks suddenly, shifting so he can turn an accusing glare at his boyfriend. Sonny’s laugh is short and sharp but Rafael can’t help grinning at it, satisfied. “It’s no contest, you’ll win every time.” He pauses, rubbing his thumb against the edge of Sonny’s palm. “And yes, I love you.”

He feels Sonny’s small sigh more than he hears it, letting his eyes fall shut when Sonny presses a kiss to his cheek.

“Always worth the wait to hear you say it,” Sonny murmurs. “I love you, too. You and your penetrative gaze.”

Rafael’s eyes fly back open and he swats at Sonny’s thigh. “You’re paying for that later.”

“Oh, don’t worry, Raf,” Sonny says, resting his head back against the couch with a broad smile. “I’m counting on it.”

#barisi #rafael barba #sonny carisi #svu #prompt fill #writing #my stuff

39 notes · View notes

batsandbloodmoons · 5 years

Text

Pagan Origins: Christmas

WARNING: LONG POST

So I’ve always had a love for knowing why we as people do certain things, it’s kind of a strange marriage between history and psychology. This really blossomed when I became a witch and started working on my craft. As part of developing my Sabbat traditions, and I plan on celebrating the pagan origins of Christmas as well as Yule, I figure I should learn about the history of them.

One of the things that baffled me were the major holidays that are celebrated in the United States. I was raised Roman Catholic, and have long since became disillusioned with the Church and ultimately switched to paganism. But I remember as a child, wondering about why we gave and received presents on Christmas when it was supposed to be Jesus’s birthday, why did we believe in a jolly fat man that delivered the presents, and why did we have a tree in the house? When I posed these questions to my family as a child, I never got a satisfactory answer... until now.

*Note* the following is for how Christmas is celebrated in the United States and are not universal to all cultures. Nor is it a hit at any religion.

❄️☀️🎄🎁🎅🎁🎄☀️❄️

GIFT-GIVING AND MERRYMENT

This custom started as far back as Ancient Rome and thier festival of Saturnalia. Originally, a farmers’ festival that was dedicated to Saturn, the god of agriculture and the harvest. According to Roman Mythology, Saturn was a titan and the father of Cronus, thus grandfather to Jupiter. Saturn was eventually overthrown by Cronus and moved west into the Italian peninsula. He then taught the people he meant there how to farm the land. In Greek Mythology, Saturn doesn’t have a name.

Saturnalia starts on December 17th and lasts until the 24th. Homes are decorated in wreaths and greenery. Feasts and parties werr thrown. People would overeat, overdrink and burst into songs in the streets (origin of caroling). Originally, the festival was only one day but grow longer and longer over time. By the time Rome converted to Christianity, Saturnalia now incorporated other festivals including Sigillaria, the day of gift giving which was on 12/23, and Died Natalie Solis Invicti, the birthday of the sun god Sol Invictus, which was on 12/25 because that is when it is noticeable that day is getting longer.

Saturnalia was so popular with the people that cancelling it was unthinkable when the Christian Coversion happened. So Saturnalia was transformed into a Christian holy day instead by replacing the sun god with baby Jesus. Despite the fact, that the Bible gave references to the time of Jesus’s birth being around the lambing season, in other words springtime. (bbc.co.uk)

SANTA CLAUS

Santa Claus has a number of origin stories and a number of different forms depending on the country in question. This will focus on the American version of Santa.

He can be traced back to a monk named Nicholas, later St. Nicholas by the Church, who was born around 280 A.D., in modern day Turkey. According to St. Nick’s legend, he was born into a wealthy family but gave away all of his possessions to travel the country and help the sick and the poor. One of his best know of these stories was when he raised enough money to cover the dowries of three sisters so they could marry instead of being sold into slavery or prostitution by thier father who couldn’t afford to care for them.

Over the course of the centuries, he became the protector of children and sailors. He died on December 6th, which became the day of his feast. It is also said to a lucky day for making a big purchase or getting married. By the time of Renaissance, he was the most popular saint in Europe and remained so during the Protestant Reformation, especially in Holland.

St. Nick was introduced into mainstream American culture at the end of the 18th century. In December 1773 and 1774, a New York newspaper reported that groups of Dutch families have gathered to celebrate St.Nick on the anniversary of his death.

The name Santa Claus evolved from his Dutch nickname, Sinster Klaad, which is a shortened form of Sint Nikolaas.

As his popularity grew, St. Nick was described as everything from a rascal with a blue three-cornered hat, red waistcoat, and yellow stockings to a man wearing a broad-brimmed hat and a “huge pair of Flemish Trunk hose.”

The Santa that most Americans know today didn’t emerge until 1822, when Clement Clarke Moore, an Episcopal minister, wrote a poem about Santa. He described Santa flying from house to house on Christmas Eve in a sleigh led by eight reindeer, leaving presents for deserving children. He gave Santa the ability to magically squeeze down the chimney and his love of milk and cookies.

In 1881, Santa got his iconic look from political cartoonist Thomas Nast, who used Moore’s poem as inspiration. His cartoon depicted Santa as rotund, cheerful man with a full, white beard, while holding a sack laden with toys. It was Nast who gave him his famous red suit trimmed with white fur, the Northpole workshop, the elves, and his wife, Mrs. Claus.

Other versions of St. Nicholas:

-Christkind or Kris Kringle was believed to deliver presents to well-behaved Swiss and German Children. Meaning “Christ Child”, Christkind is an angel-like often accompanied by St. Nick on Holiday missions.

- In Scandinavia, a jolly elf named Jultomten was thought to deliver gifts in a sleigh drawn by goats.

-English legend says that Fathrt Christmas visits each home on Christmas Eve to fill children’s stocking with treats.

-Pere Noel is responsible for filling the shoes of French children with treats that were left by the fireplace.

-In Russia, it is believed that an elderly woman named Babouschka purposely gave the three wise men the wrong directions to Bethlehem so that they couldn’t find Jesus. Later, she felt remorseful, but could not find the men to unto the damage. To this day on, 1/5, she visits Russian children leaving gifts at their bedsides in hope that one of them is the baby Jesus and she will be forgiven.

-In Italy, a woman called La Befana, a kindly witch who rides a broomstick down the chimneys of Italian homes to deliver toys into the stocking of lucky children. (History.com)

RUDOLPH THE RED-NOSE REINDEER

Rudolph was created over a hundred years after the other eight reindeer, in the 1920’s, by Robert L. May, a copywriter at the Montgomery Ward department store.

In 1939, May wrote a Christmas-themed story to bring holiday traffic into his store, which is the story Americans know today. In 1949, one of May’s friends, Johnny Marks, wrote a short song based on the poem. It was recorded by Gene Autry. The television movie, narrated by Burl Ives, was released in 1964. (History.com)

CHRISTMAS TREES

Plants and trees that remained green year had a special meaning for ancient people. One myth I heard, but couldn’t find a source for, for the reason Evergreens stay green was that. During the first winter, the sun spoke to the trees and told them that he would be resting for a few months and told them not to loose faith in his return. Months later the sun had not returned yet, many trees and plants began to lost faith and dropped thier leaves in thier despair. All except the Evergreens. When the Sun finally returned he saw what had happened, disappointed in those who lost faith, he cursed them to lose thier leaves every year while the Evergreens were allowed to keep their needles.

Another belief is that Evergreens would keep away witches, ghosts, evil spirits and illness when hung in the home.

In the Northern hemisphere, the winter solstice is the shortest day and longest night of the year, which falls on December 21st and 22nd. Many ancient people believed that the sun was a god and the winter came very year because the sun had become sick and weak. They celebrated the solstice because it meant that at last the sun would began to regain strength. Evergreens remind them of all the plants that would grow again when the sun was strong and summer would return.

Even ancient Egyptians worshipped the sun, in the form of Ra. At the solstice, when Ra began to recover from the illness, the Egyptians filled their homes with green palm rushes to symbolized the triumph of life over death.

Early Romans knew that the solstice meant that soon farms and orchards would be green and fruitful. They decorated their homes and temples with Evergreens. In Northern Europe, the Celtic Druids also decorated their temples with Evergreens as a symbol of everlasting life. Vikings would bring whole trees inside to preserve the spirit of nature.

However Germany is credited with starting the Christmas tree tradition as we know it. In the 16th century, Christians would build pyramids out of wood and decorate them with evergreens and candles. It was widely believed that Martin Luther, the 16th century Protestant reformer, first added lighted candles to a tree. The story goes that while walking home one winter evening, composing a sermon, he was awed by the brilliance of the stars twinkling amidst the evergreen trees. To recreate this for his family, he hung a tree’s branched with lighted candles.

In 1659 the General Court of Massachusettsenacted a law that made any observance of Christmas illegal because Christmas was too pagan in thier Puritan eyes. People were fined for hanging decorations, singing carols, decorating trees or any other joyful expression. That is until the 19th century when an influx of German and Irish immigrants came to America.

Before the then, Americans found Christmas trees to be an oddity m. The first record of one being on display was in the 1830’s by German immigrants in Pennsylvania, although the trees had already been a long standing tradition in German households. But as late as 1840’s, Christmas trees were still seen as pagan symbols and not accepted by most Americans.

That changed in 1846, when Queen Victoria and her German husband, Prince Albert were illustrated in a London newspaper, posing with thier children around a Christmas tree. Due to her popularity, Christmas trees became fashionable through out British and American societies.

By the 1890’s, Christmas ornaments were arriving from Germany and the tree’s popularity was on the rise in the U.S. It was noted that Europeans used small trees about, 4 feet in height, while Americans liked tall trees reaching from the ceiling to the floor.

The early 20th century saw Americans decorating their trees with homemade ornaments, while German-Americans continued to use apples, nuts, and marzipan cookies. The invention of electricity brought about Christmas lights, allowing trees to glow for days in end. With this, Christmas trees began to appear in town squares across the country and having a Christmas tree in the home became an American tradition. (History.com)

MISTLETOE

Mistletoe is actually a poisonous plant and its use as a peaceful symbol is rooted in Norse Mythology.

Baldr, the son of Frigg and Odin, was one of the most beloved of the gods. But he was plagued by dreams of his own death. So in an effort to protect her son, Frigg made everything: plant, animal, or rock, living in or growing in the earth, swear never to harm Baldr. As a result, he became invincible and the other gods began to use him for target practice because he always survived. But Loki, being his usual mischievous self, realize that mistletoe had been missed by Frigg, as it didn’t actually grow on the ground. He fashioned a weapon from some mistletoe. Whether that weapon was an arrow, dart, or spear depends on which version is told. But Loki persuades Hod, Baldr’s blind brother, to strike Baldr with the mistletoe weapon during a target practice session. This ensured that Hod took the immediate blame. Baldr died from a single wound and he was mourned deeply by all, especially his mother. Some versions say he was brought back to life, but most agree about what happened after his death, that Frigg‘ tears became mistletoe’s pearlescent berries, and in her grief, Frigg decreaded that mistletoe shall become a symbol of peace and love. Which is why now, people kiss under it today. (Mistletoe.org.uk)

HOLLY

Holly is another evergreen that is believed to ward off evil spirits when planted outside the house. When brought indoors, it increases fertility. Holly is believed to be linked with masculinity and most people use the holly bushes that produce red berries. But it is female holly bushes that produce said berries. Ivy is often the female equivalent to holly’s masculinity.

WREATH

It was difficult to find a definitive source about wreaths but the general consensus is that wreaths were made in a circle out of evergreens (holly, Laurel, or pine) to represent either the sun and life, or the wheel of the year. In fact the word Yule is believed to have stemmed from the Norse word “Jol” meaning wheel.

CANDY CANES

These are entirely Christian and were invented in 1670 when a German choirmaster at the Cologne Cathedral bent all white sugar sticks into canes for the children who attended the ceremonies. The shape is believe to represent a shepherd’s cane or the letter “J” for Jesus. After the advent of mass production, in the 1950’s, the red stripes were added. The red represented the blood of Jesus and the white was his purity. The three finer stripes were said to be the Holy Trinity (God, Jesus, and the Joly Spirit). The hardness is to symbolize the solid foundation of the Church. The peppermint flavor is supposed to stem from an herb called hyssop because, according to the Old Testament, hyssop was used to symbolize the purity of Jesus and his sacrifice. (Candyhistory.net)

ANGELS AND STARS

These refers to the debate of the tree toppers, angels or stars. The angel is represent the angel Gabriel, who came to Mary to ask her to bear God’s son, Jesus. The star refers to the Star of Bethlehem that wise men supposedly followed to find.

However since it was discussed above that Christmas lights are representations of the nighttime stars, then it could be argue that the star on top of the tree and being the largest, could be the sun, as it is the closest thus largest star to Earth.

🎄Please feel free to add to this as I tried to get most famous symbols of Christmas!! 🎄

#christmas #yule #witchcraft #witch #pagan #paganism #jesus christ #@nim-the-kitchen-cottage-witch

8 notes · View notes