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thefirstempress · 3 months

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Some background on The First Empress

So the following excerpt was going to be my original foreword for The First Empress. Last October, however, I was informed in a rejection letter that the foreword was too long (among other, more homophobic reasons for rejecting it). Then, when I looked up how to write a foreword, I found out that, at least in fiction, it's customary to have someone else write it for you. While Matthew Keville (@matthewkeville) was kind enough to write my new foreword, I kept the original foreword, and at a beta reader's suggestion I think I'm going to use it as an "About" page for my website. Content warning for background and personal history.

I think it was fall semester of 2002 at Boise State University. During one of my literature courses, the professor was highly impressed with my reading responses for Homer’s Iliad, particularly in regards to my observation that the story is in no way a conflict between good and evil. And I liked that about it. I liked that there were noble and ignoble characters as well as likable and unlikable characters on both sides of the conflict. In his notes on one of my responses, Professor Jim recommended that I read Thucydides’s History of the Peloponnesian War, which began my interest in ancient history in general and Classical Greece in particular. One of my college friends owned a lovely little coffeehouse/used bookstore for several years, and I bought many volumes out of her ancient history section.

In the late ‘00s, I developed acute depression/anxiety while working on my Master’s Degree in Literature. Though I somehow managed to complete my degree, my depression became so severe that in 2011 I had to step down from a teaching job I loved beside colleagues I liked, because I couldn’t function well enough to fulfill my duties outside the classroom. I decided it was horribly unfair to my students that they couldn’t count on me to do my part, so I walked away. I made the most painful decision I’ve made in my life and stepped down from a job I’d spent three years studying and training for.

My first successful step toward recovery came when I started writing for myself again. No more thirty-page theses, no more ten-page research papers written over the weekend, no more feedback on forty-to-sixty student papers. I typed up some story concepts and revisited some old stories that I hadn’t looked at in a decade. I started a blog, and then a side-blog, and then a Tumblr page to go with the side-blog. I even started a fan-fiction account that features mostly The Legend of Korra novellas and Star Wars one-shots.

During the summer of 2012, I wrote several chapters of a young-adult fantasy novel in a high- to late-medieval setting, featuring a young, somewhat Mary-Sue heroine whose wizened mentor was named Zahnia, the Chronicler—an immortal historian trapped forever as a nine-year-old girl. As I started to flesh out Zahnia’s character, I decided I wanted to explore her origin story, tying it in with the creation of the Tollesian Empire, where the story takes place. For National Novel Writing Month 2012, I began work on the first draft of The First Empress and spent over ten years tinkering, expanding, and revising in my free time. But the more I worked on the story, the bigger it got. George RR Martin once described a spectrum of writers, ranging from architects who outline and design the structure and foundation of their story before they start writing, to gardeners who plant the seeds of the story, then let it grow, expand, and develop organically. I’m very much the garden-variety writer.

And so the story kept getting bigger, both in my head and on paper. I fell short of the original 50K word goal by over 10K, but felt like I had a pretty solid start. By the end of that first NaNoWriMo, I knew that it was probably going to be multiple books, so I narrowed down what I wanted to include in Book I and started focusing on those story lines. The original story was to be two separate stories that converge at the end of Book I, with the main story focusing on the title protagonist, Queen Viarra, and the first year of her rise to power, while the background story focuses on Zahnia, the curse of her immortality, and her escape from her captors. In the original outline, Book I would end with our characters first meeting.

Even in the early stages, however, it was extremely difficult to reconcile the two stories. Viarra’s story was over twice the size of Zahnia’s and, for the most part, more exciting for my beta-readers. Zahnia’s scenes often felt like unwelcome interruptions, rather than interesting interludes, and were difficult to intersperse side-by-side with scenes happening in Viarra’s story. At some point in the process, I stopped trying to intersperse them and made Zahnia’s scenes separate chapters. While this worked better, there could be as many as four or five Viarra chapters between Zahnia chapters, and some of my readers pointed out that they sometimes had to go back and reread previous Zahnia chapters to understand what was happening in the latest chapter. I occasionally thought about taking Zahnia’s story out altogether and making it its own novel.

I made my ultimate decision on the matter in July of 2021 when I finally finished the first complete draft of The First Empress. The draft weighed in at over 206K words—which I knew was a lot, but I didn’t grasp the full size until one of my readers pointed out that in paperback format, that’s over eight-hundred pages! I decided almost immediately that the best option was to split them up into three books. Books I and II now deal entirely with the first year of Viarra’s rise to power, meeting Zahnia, her future chronicler, at the end of Book II. Book III is instead mostly about Zahnia’s origins, including her curse of immortality and her daring escape from the madmen who cursed her. This worked out wonderfully as it allowed me to break the revision process into smaller chunks instead of attempting to revise 800 pages in one go.

Though Zahnia isn’t physically present for Book I and only gets a single scene in Book II, I make sure she’s still present in spirit throughout both books. In homage to classic fantasy stories like Frank Herbert’s Dune or Isaac Asimov’s Foundation series, I include epigrams written by Zahnia at the beginning of each chapter. Additionally, all footnotes and appendices are also by her. Despite her unavoidable sidelining in what was supposed to be her origin story, Zahnia became something of an alter-ego for me, and I want readers to understand that she is still a foundational character in the series.

While brainstorming leading up to that first NaNoWriMo, I decided to put my studies of Ancient Greek history to use, basing the setting and culture on the late-Classical, early-Hellenic Aegean Sea and the surrounding regions. The culture, politics, and technology—both in how they begin and how they advance as the series progresses—are intended to feel similar to the cultural, political, and technological changes occurring in the wake of the Peloponnesian War through the rise of Kings Philip II and Alexander the Great and beyond. Indeed, Philip and to a lesser degree Alexander were both inspirations for Queen Viarraluca, my title heroine.

(That being said, I don’t tend to view any of my characters as being an equivalent of X figure from Greek history. I drew inspiration from many historical and fictional characters for my cast, but I don’t have a story-world equivalent of Socrates or Pericles or Leonidas or Sappho or Olympias or whoever.)

The setting, though, is less intended to feel historically accurate and more about feeling historically authentic. I’ll be the first to admit that I’m a hobbyist historian who hasn’t taken a history course since early in my undergrad studies. Thus, all of my reading and research is unguided, and I have no idea how well my understanding and analyses align with contemporary views. Ultimately, The First Empress is an ancient-world period-fantasy that’s inspired by rather than entirely representative of late-Classical Greece.

Throughout the process, I loved playing with the ancient-world world-building and found perverse enjoyment in taking pagan gods’ names in vain, portraying ancient inventions as new and exciting technology, and treating pants as an unusual and barbarian garment. But as a fantasy, I of course included plenty of embellishments. Sometimes world-building is brainstorming how an intelligent warrior queen and her officers would attempt to adapt a hoplite-centered army to fighting in forested terrain, generally considered unfavorable to phalanx warfare. Sometimes world-building is giving a society based on the Ancient Greeks access to tea, despite zero evidence that the Ancient Greeks had anything similar to tea, all because my warrior-queen protagonist seems like a tea-drinker.

I tried as well to include neighboring cultures inspired by those the Classical Greeks had contact with. The Tollesians are inspired by Classical Greece—the Empire Pellastor and its allies being akin to the Attic and Peloponnesian Greeks while the Hegemony of Andivel and their allies are more like the Ionian Greeks. The Illaran League was originally inspired by the Ancient Illyrians but evolved into more of an Illyrian/Macedonian hybrid. The Gan are inspired by the Gauls. The Venarri are Phoenician. The Artilans are Achaemenid-era Persian. The Kossôn are Achaemenid-era Egyptian. The Wattasu are inspired by Classical-era Nasamones. And the Verleki are largely inspired by the Ancient Scythians. I want to emphasize inspired by, as I’m not an expert on any of these ancient cultures. I have no illusions that I didn’t make mistakes or misinterpret things. I also eventually hope to include cultures inspired by the Samnites, Germanic tribes, Kushites, and possibly even cultures as distant as the Han and Mayans.

Experimenting with ancient-world cultures and in particular with ancient-world sexuality has been some of the most fun I’ve had writing. The Classical Greeks were an openly sexual culture, openly bisexual and often polyamorous. Rather than gloss over their sexuality like a coward, I chose to let my characters embrace it in the story. In doing so, I quickly decided that authors who only write monogamous, heterosexual relationships are missing out on all kinds of wonderful and fascinating relationship dynamics. Queen Viarra is a lesbian, and nearly all of the other characters fall somewhere on a pan- or bisexual spectrum. Zahnia, meanwhile, is asexual, as is one of Viarra’s ambassadors. I have a transgender hoplite officer, as well, and I have other characters in mind for future LGBT+ representation. As bisexuality was normal and even expected in Classical Greek culture, I try to treat it as something normal in my stories as well.

Though so far only one person has asked me why I’d include LGBT+ characters when I’m not LGBT myself, my answer to them and anyone else is that positive representation is important. Louie, my therapist, shared an anecdote during one of our sessions back in 2021 and gave me permission to share with readers. He was hosting some friends of his family for a few days, including his childhood friend who is a lesbian. His copy of my manuscript was lying around, and he started telling them about my lesbian title protagonist who’s also a strong ruler and a formidable warrior queen. His friend was very curious and asked smart questions about the character and story-world. Louie told me that she almost teary-eyed asked him to thank me for writing the characters as gay. She apparently was thrilled not only at the gay representation from the leading couple, but also at the bi representation from other characters.

When a gay woman in her late forties gets teary-eyed at the inclusion of a lesbian couple in a period-fantasy novel, I think it’s a sign that this kind of representation is absolutely necessary.

On the other hand, there were other aspects of Classical Greek culture that I wasn’t as keen about attempting to portray. The Greeks at the time were notoriously misogynist, for example. Much of Greek culture viewed women as property. Athens in particular had all kinds of laws restricting women, including a truly heinous law specifying that female slaves’ court testimonies were only valid if they testified under torture. I did away with a lot of that in my story-world. Scythians, Illyrians, Nubians, Sarmatians, Lusitanians, Suebi, Gauls: plenty of ancient cultures had traditions of skilled huntresses, warrior women, women pirates, influential queens and noblewomen, and successful businesswomen. Philip II of Macedon’s first wife was warrior queen, and he allowed their daughter and granddaughter to be trained in the same manner. That the Classical Greeks couldn’t get with the program is frankly their loss.

As this is my story-world and my tale to tell, I saw no particular reason to carry on that tradition. Queen Viarra isn’t the only powerful queen in the story, nor is she the only woman-warrior in hoplite’s panoply. Though a certain level of misogyny exists, it’s on the level of individual characters or communities, rather than a cultural norm.

Why?

Because it doesn’t have to be a norm! It’s fiction! Misogyny and sexism don’t have to be normal! Racism doesn’t have to be normal! Homophobia and transphobia don’t have to be normal! I shouldn’t have to create a hateful story in order to meet some mouth-breathing neoclassicist’s concept of historical accuracy. One of the best things I learned from reading Effie Calvin and Garrett Robinson’s novels is that truly excellent and inclusive stories with engaging characters, world-building, and conflicts can be created without some need to incorporate real-world prejudices. And when these prejudices do show up in The First Empress, I try to set them up as criticisms of ancient society, rather than something I lazily included for some pretense of “historical accuracy.”

At least three of my beta-readers compared The First Empress favorably to George RR Martin’s A Song of Ice and Fire series. (To paraphrase one of my Tumblr readers, any fantasy with historical inspiration and more politics than wizards will draw Game of Thrones comparisons.) Even so, not only would I never assume to be in the same league as an award-winning fantasy author whose stories have sold countless millions of copies and gotten their own popular television adaptation, I don’t feel like Martin’s goals as a storyteller are at all similar to mine. His stories seem to place the most emphasis on shocking readers—and he’s unparalleled at it! My goal is to give readers a lot to think about. Hopefully I pull that off well.Plus, if readers can handle A Song of Ice and Fire… I think The First Empress might seem a little mellow by comparison.

Thanks so much for your interest in my book, folks. I hope you find my story and characters entertaining, interesting, thought-provoking, or at the very least enjoyable to read. Thanks for reading and take care!

#my novel #my writing #first empress

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chaerins-world · 11 months

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You belong with me <3

A sunghoon x reader drabble, based on the song you belong with me by Taylor Swift

Warnings: cheating (but not from the reader from sunghoons terrible gf), a kiss is mentioned at the end, I didn’t use any pronouns for the reader but they do wear a dress towards the end

Word Count: 560 (very short basically)

Reader pov~

I sigh as I stare at the window across from me. I was talking with the oh so beautiful neighbor boy, Park Sunghoon, using our notepad messaging system when he got a call from his girlfriend, Jia, and now they’re arguing. It pains me to see him like this, so upset over a girl who’s

more than likely cheating on him with one of his best friends.

He ends the call looking frustrated and I hold up a note that says, ‘You okay?’, and he responds with one that says ‘Tired of the drama.’ We chat a bit more about basic things like school and prom that’s coming up before he excused himself to go to sleep. I sigh and take my glasses off and head to sleep myself.

[next week, football game]

I’m standing in the crowd, next to Jake and his girlfriend who just so happen to be making out instead of paying attention to the game. “Why did I even agree to come with them?”, I ask myself. I focus my eyes on him. He’s on the sidelines while Jia is talking to Jay, one of Sunghoon’s teammates. I see Hoon’s lips moving but I can’t hear what he’s saying… he seems angry. Not long after, he storms off and into the locker rooms.

I sigh and follow him, slipping into the locker rooms quietly so I don’t get caught. I see Sunghoon sitting on one of the benches with his head in his hands. I sit down next to him and put a hand on his back, rubbing it gently. He looked up with glossy eyes and hugged me tightly. “She was cheating...”, he mumbled into my neck. He smelled like sweat and dirt but I didn’t mind. I didn’t say anything and just continued rubbing his back while letting him cry on my shoulder.

[Prom night]

It was the night of prom and I was sitting on my bed. Was I planning on going? No. But he was. I looked up and caught a glimpse of him in his suit. He looked amazing. He flashed me a quick smile and gave me a thumbs up before exiting his room and going downstairs. As I watched him get in his car and drive off I thought, ‘Maybe I should go...’

Going with the thought, I threw on the nicest dress I owned and headed to the school. When I walked through the doors, all eyes were on me. Sunghoon, who was talking with Jia, while looking quite unhappy might I add, and some other friends froze when he laid his eyes on me.

Before I left I told myself, “tonight’s the night. I’m gonna do it.” I walked up to him and grabbed the note out of my pocket, unfolding it. I held it up so he could see. It read, ‘I love you.’

I looked to the ground and didn’t see him pull out a piece of paper and unfold it. Just like mine it read, ‘I love you.’ He walked closer to me and closed the distance between us. Jia let out a huff and tried to grab Hoon’s arm and pull him away from me but he just shook her hand off.

When he reached me, he grabbed my face and closed the space between us completely with a smile.

End~

Chaerin’s notes

hello everyone! This is a work that is quite old. I originally wrote it in late 2019- early 2020 I believe. If it happens to seem familiar, I have it posted on my AO3 as a Changlix short story (I promise that it’s mine 😭😭)

It’s not very good, as it is quite old, but I tried to adjust a couple things to make it a little better

I promise that the works will get better, I just need to find some stuff to write about before they do, so for now enjoy some of my older works I guess 😭

#Spotify #enha fluff #enhypen imagines #enhypen drabbles #enhypen sunghoon #sunghoon x reader #sunghoon #jay is mentioned #he’s kind of a bad guy… it’s kind of implied #sunghoons fake gf Jia

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nehswritesstuffs · 2 months

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questions for fic writers!! answer however many you'd like :)

2. Go to your AO3 “Works” page, to the sidebar with all the filters, and click the drop-down arrow for “Additional Tags.” What are your top 3-5 most used tags? Do you think they accurately represent your writing habits?

10. How do you decide what to write?

15. What's your favorite AU that you've written?

21. If you wrote a “missing scene” in Double Date from Hell, what would it be?

42. Have you ever received a comment that particularly stood out to you for whatever reason?

thank you!! <3 have a lovely week!!

I'll answer all of them! :D!

So this one is kinda interesting, because it's very different if you include all my works (207 thus far (soon 208) and I'm not done transferring everything from my FFN days) compared to my One Piece offerings, which is what you, my specific friend, are most familiar with. Under all stories my list is:

Prompt fic (117)

Fluff (says 55, toggles to 57)

Alternate Universe (says 41, toggles to 60)

Not Beta Read (37; the real tag is no beta we die like Roger: laughing at the chaos we've caused)

Angst (25, toggles to 33)

...but if we filter to only One Piece stories, we've got (aside from the specialized No Beta tag and designating what originally posted to FFN):

Alternate Universe (18)

Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence (10)

Crack (9)

Pre-Canon (6)

Alternate Canon (6, toggles to 11)

That's... a difference. The first list is pretty clear that I've done a lot of prompts with plenty of fluff, angst, and AUs. The second focuses in on those AUs. I do have a lot of non-searchable tags in the more recent offerings, which affects things. They're both pretty spot-on, though playing around with my filters brings surprising stuff in many of the categories.

10. How do you decide what to write?

I do not decide what I write. God decides what I write. Sometimes He leaves it to my brain. That's usually a disaster.

15. What's your favorite AU that you've written?

I love all my AUs what are you talking about...

If I had to pick one I think my favorite right now is a tie between little seagull, little seagull, where shall you go? and Adventures with the Denizens of 1000 Sunny Rd, just because they're both really fun for completely different reasons. One's just the Great Dilfening of Trafalgar Law in its varied forms and the other is Modern pseudo-Midwestern American AU w/Sunny as a sus af party house in rural suburbia that totally isn't based on my local metro area what are you talking about. Both torture Law though, and that's what counts. :D

42. Have you ever received a comment that particularly stood out to you for whatever reason?

A comment that stood out? Well, I think comments that stand out to me are usually the long ones, as well as the ones that end up in long-winded conversations and exchange of fandom squealing. While I've gotten some in recent years, I cannot express how it was very different back in the heyday of my years mainlining FFN. So, like, 2004-2010, I'll say. Those were really good days, and people loved commenting/reviewing! There were still lurkers, obviously, but there was way less commodification of fandom like we see now. It's definitely not a "fandom old yells at teens" thing because I know it's not necessarily fandom's fault for the shift and is instead the corporate end that has trained us (especially newer fans) to treat media and fandoms alike the same one would cheap paper towels, but that's not what fandom is, and oh would you look at that I strayed from the topic.

21. If you wrote a “missing scene” in Double Date from Hell, what would it be?

A missing scene from Double-Date From Hell? Well then, don't mind if I do...

“Ah, there’s your kid,” Bell-mère noted. She watched Law cross the street from the hospital to head into the restaurant a few cars ahead of them. At least he was in scrubs and a doctor’s coat, making it a little less likely he’d murder them. “Didn’t you teach the little shit not to jaywalk?” “Jaywalking is the least of our worries right now,” Cora replied, his eyes following his son as he disappeared into the restaurant. “What if they see right through us?” He worried his hands as he grew progressively more fidgety in the passenger seat. “They’ll be too off-guard to think that,” she replied. From her vantage point, she could see the kid walk to the back corner of the seating area and slide into a booth, face getting real close to someone with very orange hair—must’ve been Nami. “Come on—where’s your sense of humor? It was working great last night.” “Last night I wasn’t staring this down so concretely,” he frowned. “I don’t want my kid and his super-cute girlfriend to hate me now that they’ve both met me.” “If she hasn’t run for the hills yet, they’re fine.” Bell-mère winked and killed the engine. “C’mon, let’s get this party started, shall we?”

#gendervapor #gendervapor14 #meme replies #gen gets a mini scene bc I know they'll cry lol #and also a scene is not. like. a wholeass fic. as you know.#I've also not seen Arrested Development I need to but I'm proud I slapped together that meme like fr #also related to:#One Piece

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dilatorywriting · 1 year

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not a request!!

omg hello, greetings, salutations 👋 i just wanna say i love your work so much😫 like uhhhhhhhh.

i’m also very curious as to what got you into writing.

another thing while i was stalking looking through your blog, i remember a ask you answered asking if you were a writer professionally, to which you said you were in veterinary school (i’m thinking about doing that but i’m vv hesitant about it) so i was wondering what experiences you have with it / if you have any thoughts or warnings for people interested in the field.

also- reaper rook👁️👁️

how do you always write so good?? like 😫😫🫶🫶🫶 keep writing bb, you’re so deliciously amazing at it. can’t wait for your next update 🫦

Ahhh so many things!!

I got into writing because I was an Angsty Sad Child. I had a very strict upbringing and learned that while privileges for many things can be taken away, you can't ever really take away notebooks/paper scraps!! Which sounds... so so depressing lol. I promise I wasn't like locked in a cupboard or anything. Just the more normal side of Meh. I wrote all the time even when I was really little (like elementary school bean), but the Big Turn Around was I got in trouble reading in class when I was in seventh grade, so I was banned from reading during school. So I just started writing my own stories in my notes like ah ha. Take that, evil overlords. Try and stop me now. And here I am today. A menace. But yes. That is my Tragic, Villain, Origin StoryTM.

As for veterinary school, I'd say my biggest advice on choosing to or not to go for it isn't about whether you love animals (though obviously that helps), but you do really, genuinely, have to love medicine too. Like I knew a couple people who dropped out year one because they couldn't handle the gore, for lack of a better word. It is not playing with puppies and handing out meds. There will be dead things. There will be surgery. You're going to have to deal with some really messed up and traumatic situations. Loving animals is my drive, and I want to save all the fluffy things naturally. But I also have always really been a person who likes puzzles, and someone who can handle tough situations and squeamish things well. Those are the big things. Because you can be as gung ho about helping the fluffs as you want, but if you're going to completely breakdown when you encounter your first case of potential abuse or when you have to explain to someone that their new puppy is going to have to be put to sleep, this is definitely not the profession for you. It's so, so, hard. But in my opinion it is so, so, worth it.

#Asks

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happypopcornprincess · 2 years

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The Hating Game

Pictures 1, 3, and 4 are from interest, and picture 2 is from @parkjammys

Pairings - Joaquín Torres x Aviator!Reader (Enemies To Lovers)

Premise – The infamous rivalry between you and Joaquin Torres is well known on the base. He hates you and you hate him. After unlikely circumstances, you realize hating someone is disturbingly similar to falling in love with them

Warnings: Major Spoilers for The Hating Game Novel. (btw read the book it is too good <3) Strong language, suggestive language.

Note: I wrote this fic a long time before watching Top Gun: Maverick and I tried my best to make it as accurate as possible but I still apologize for any mistakes :) Torres's personality in this fic will be a mix of his series one and Joshua Templeman's from The Hating Game book.

Credits to Sally Throne for the original story of The Hating Game that inspired this fic. Some scenes will be exclusively from the novel, others I will spin my way. I do not own anything, this is my interpretation of the novel with MCU characters.

PS. it was requested anonymously a long time ago sorry it took so long for me to post this :')

Series Masterlist || My Main Masterlist || Send your requests here!

You tear the page and crumple it, throwing it on the floor in frustration.

This was not what you were expecting when you took the very debated decision to get a degree in Biology while on active duty. You had a time schedule for everything. But biology in high school was very different from advanced biology. There were topics you were unaware of that you had to study in a short period of time. You were now in a pothole of mounting deadlines and on-field duties as a lieutenant at the base. It was torture.

And your sworn enemy was not making it any easier.

Lt. Joaquin Torres was the highlight of the base. His practice rounds were impressive, his scores were excellent, and the people under his command were excellent. Oh, and he was also an Avenger. He was enrolled in the same course as you. They would all brag about how he completed all the assignments while performing all his duties.

When you first arrived on base, you were friendly with everyone, especially with officers under your rank. Your first encounter with him was when you were off duty, so you smiled and even offered a handshake, since you were both of the same rank. But he just stared at you and walked away.

This was in stark contrast to him, who was feared by everyone under him. Nothing escaped his notice; he was like a hawk. Including you.

The two of you were the most notorious rivals on the base. You don’t remember how it started. Maybe it was because he didn’t return your smile, or chose to ignore your existence even though your desks were beside each other. As if it were second nature, a subconscious comparison. There was competition in everything you did. Be it your duties as lieutenants, or sports, or academic valedictions, you were on each other’s throats. If someone saw you two together, they would run, not wanting to be caught in crossfire.

You got an earful from Captain Bexley from time to time. However, given the fact you two were top officers at the base, he couldn’t do anything more than scream at the two of you and give you extra hours. How either one of you was not deployed to a different base was beyond your understanding.

“Sup Y/N!” he rolls to your work desk on a rolling chair. You resist your urge to roll your eyes at him, to not stroke his ego for successfully disturbing you.

Your offices were in the same room, two desks alongside each other.

“I am studying. Unlike you, Torres” you say without looking at him. You continued to work as he glanced around your desk. It was a well-organized space, but far from his. His desk looked the same as it did a year ago, with no personal photos, or colorful things. Just a mosaic of very official, dark pastels.

You hear the crinkling sound of paper and a long sigh coming from him. “Haemodialysis. Interesting.” Your eyes grow wide as you look at him. “Stop digging through my stuff smartass.” You try to pry the piece of paper from him but he just rolls away.

“You know it’s not that complicated. I thought you were good at this, given the fact you’re a major nerd.”

“Well, I am trying my best.”

He gives you a smirk. “Yeah, okay” and gets back to work.

Asshole

“Can you be considerate for once in your entire life?” you ask him.

“No” he deadpanned.

He starts clicking his pen. You might be hallucinating it was Morse code, but this was Joaquin. He has taken lengths to make your life miserable, and right now, he was spelling "hot damn" in morse code. With his click pen.

“Stop it”

“What?”

“Stop… spelling stuff in morse code with your pen”

“I’m just clicking my pen” he looks at you with his adorable puppy eyes. It would work on any other woman, not you.

“Someday I’m actually going to haul something at you.”

“And that day would be the happiest day of my life because you’ll be suspended” he gives you a tight-lipped smile.

You return the same and try to go back to your work.

----/----/----

“Hello, my munchkin! How are you?" your mother’s cheery voice could be heard all over your empty apartment. Even after two years, the place is just as empty as when you first arrived. A bed, a sofa, some chairs, and a shit ton of books scattered all around the studio apartment. You plop down on the sofa holding your take-out dinner and balance your phone on the armrest.

“I am doing very well, how’s pop?” You ask stuffing food inside your mouth. Unlike others, you never grew out of calling your parents mummy and pops.

“Pops just came back from the farm. Harvest is looking good this year, we got forty new people to visit. After your placard idea, there have been a lot of visitors here.” Her knowing smile graced your screen.

You grew up in a small town, on an orange farm. It was your life. When you left for the Air Force, you requested everyone in your small town to take care of your parents, and their farm. They saw you grow into a capable young woman, and after you left, you sent many placard ideas requesting the local shops to have on display. And every time a passing visitor stopped there, they were convinced the orange farm was worth a visit. And it was. A stroll through your orange grove under blue skies, with the smell of ripe oranges aglow in the air, could soothe any troubled mind.

“I miss you.” You say as you remember yourself running through them as a child, hiding from your parents and playing hide and seek.

“Aww baby,” your mother’s eyes glossed over, “I miss you too. Everyone in town does.” You felt like crying. Nostalgia got the upper hand over you today. Your pops appeared on the screen before you both started crying.

“Y/N!!!” he shouted through. His shirt still had dirt on it but he had a wide grin on his face. "How is my favorite lieutenant?”

“Pops!” you screamed with the same excitement, “I’m doing just fine, how are you?”

“I’m fine, I’m fine. I heard your mummy making you cry and I came to the rescue.” You laughed as your mother poked him with her finger and he kissed her forehead. 25 years and they were still in love as they were in their teens.

“So, is that Torres guy still bothering you? Do I have to roll up to your base with my tractor to intimidate him?”

You rolled your eyes at his mention. You’ve told your parents about him, how every day is a death match between you both for survival.

“Nah, it’s nothing I can’t handle.” You shrugged.

“What did he do today?”

“Tried to teach me how to study, I shut him up.” You said, not mentioning the fact you were, indeed, in dire need of help. And too proud to admit.

“That’s my girl!” Pops shouted through the phone. Your mummy flinched and looked at him, “You don’t have to shout every time, she can hear you perfectly.” Your pop gave her a look, but she continued unbothered.

“You know from the way I see it; He might be into you.” Your mom smirked. You almost choked on your food as you heard it.

“Torres? Joaquin Torres? Never in a million years.”

“What? He could.”

“The only thing Joaquin feels for me is pure hatred and repulsion. So do I”

“Do you?” You were surely taken aback by the question. Why was your mother asking you this?

“What?” you sit straighter on the couch.

"Of all your colleagues, you talk about him the most. Even though I have never met him, I feel like I know him."

“Wha…” you were at a loss of words as to what to say.

“Okay baby, I have to go now. Had to make dinner. Goodnight love!” she blows kisses at you and you catch it. After you repeat the same, she ends the call.

That night, lying awake, you think about what your mother told you. Do you like him?

You never got to figure out why he is constantly enraged by your presence, trying to sabotage you at any given moment. Sometimes you wanted to physically fight him to wipe that smug smile off his really handsome face. He has a cute face, you know that. You have seen the way the girls throw themselves at him. He can be quite charming when he wants, not with you though. Never with you.

----/----/----

You stare at your screen in disbelief.

B- In advanced human anatomy. The main fucking subject of your entire course. Your scores in other subjects were fine, but this was bad. You studied so hard for the online mid-terms. You did everything you could and this was the result? Could you even get a degree in Biology? You've always dreamed of studying biology. Although you would receive a handsome pension for your service in the air force, you still needed to find a job.

It was too late to realize you were crying while looking at your screen as your office door opened. You glance towards it to see Joaquin standing in the doorway, looking at you. You quickly wipe your tears. If your low scores weren’t enough, you had to face Mr. flawless in the face as everyone cheered for his obviously high scores.

“Y/N, I-“

“Don’t” you reply. You look at him to see a frown forming on his face like he was thinking of the best comeback.

“I know you got better grades than me Torres, and as much as I would love to spar with you. I’m not in the mood.”

“No, I just-“

But you don’t give him a chance to talk, as you were already on your way out of the office. “I know what you’re about to say. You’re better than me, smarter than me. I get it. Don’t rub it in my face.” Your voice breaks unintentionally, “Not today, Please.”

You storm out of your shared office.

---/---/---

The Next Day

You were halfway through your fourth lap on the field, or was it your fifth? You didn’t know as you were busy listening to AC/DC blasting in your ears. You were out of breath at this point but you didn’t want to stop. After crying yourself to sleep and running through all the scenarios of how your parents are going to react to your career choices in five years’ time, you needed a good run to clear your mind.

You hear a faint voice above the loud music in your ears, like someone was calling you. You take off your iPods and turn to see a figure running toward you.

“Lieutenant Y/L/N!” you hear the familiar voice coming nearer.

You groan audibly when you see him. Standing in front of you, Joaquin leans down and puts his hands on his knees.

“What are you- are you a superhero?” he asked in between breaths, “You just ran 800-meters in 2 minutes- oh god!” he huffs out.

“For Christ’s sake Joaquin it’s five in the morning. Can I have some peace and quiet?" You turn to continue your lap but he steps in front of you.

“Lieutenant Y/L/N will you listen-“

“Oh, cut the crap what do you want?” you shout in frustration.

He stops and raises his eyebrows. You realize how rude you sound. You were angry and frustrated with everyone and everything. You, the person who wrote your bio textbook, and mostly, Joaquin. But in a second, all that anger was about to turn into confusion.

“I need your help.”

You subconsciously tilt your head. Were you dreaming?

“What?” you blurt out.

He rolls his eyes and grimaces, “Y/N, I need your help.” He repeats.

Lt. Joaquin Torres, the golden boy of the base, your nemesis… was standing in front of you in sports shots and a t-shirt, asking for your help. You stare at him for a whole minute. You can’t wrap your mind around this. And you reach an obvious conclusion

“Is this a joke?” you finally ask.

He looks at the sky as if begging for patience to bear you.

What. A. Dick.

“Yeah Y/N. This is a joke. I woke up at 4 in the morning, ran through the living quarters and the airstrip to find you on the field running laps like a bloody Olympian. For a joke.” He rests his hands on his hips.

“Well, you did scramble up my flashcards minutes before my welcome speech to-“

“Who makes flashcards for a rookie’s speech?” he cries out.

“Oh, so you’re telling me you didn’t practice the Top Gun quote in front of your mirror?” you deadpan.

He opens his mouth and then closes it. You caught him red-handed.

"Yeah." You give him a tight-lipped smile as you prepare to run again, but he steps in front of you. Yet again.

“Y/N, would you please listen to me for a minute?” he says, raising his eyebrows and looking at you with his imposing, beautiful brown eyes.

“This isn’t a Disney movie Torres don’t give me that look I’ll punch you.”

“Wow, you would kick it with Sargent Barnes” he mutters under his breath. Before you could react, he continued, “okay, so you know how we have the training evaluation coming up in three weeks?”

“Yeah.”

“And you know how the rookies are scared shitless of me?”

“Oh, they hate you.”

“Yeah, I just, I think there is no way we can have both our teams ready by three weeks, like, they don’t know shit and it just makes me sad. Your team is very competent in fieldwork and air drills but I believe they need a bit of work there-”

“Hey!”

“-and mine is great in air drills but lazy during fieldwork. So…”

“So?”

“So, I suggest a truce between us. We forget our differences for three weeks, work together and train them so that we don’t get an earful from Captain Bexley when they die halfway through the evaluation.”

As much as you wanted to scream no on his face and walk away to boss music playing in the background, he was right. You knew Captain Bexley. You don’t make a mistake in front of him, because that man just needs one convincing reason to scream at you.

You had twenty-four airmen fresh out of the academy assigned in teams of twelve to both of you. They were ardent but inexperienced. His team was lacking behind in fieldwork. Yours were better than his, but they were behind on air drills. Just like you were, in academics.

An idea forms in your head.

“Okay,” you reply.

“Really?” he asked you, puzzled.

“Yeah, but I want something in return.”

“Something in return? I’m not negotiating here Y/N. Captain Bexley will chew us out when those idiots won’t be able to-”

“I want you to tutor me. In biology” You cut him off.

“Oh,” he replies. You see his features soften.

The rest of the day you sat in silence after returning to your cabin after crying in the bathroom. For the first time in a long time, Joaquin didn’t say anything to you for eight whole hours.

“Look, I can’t believe I’m saying this, you are an expert in biology. You have tremendous knowledge in that field and I really need help. I somehow convinced myself last night I would unenroll from the course but we both know that’s a terrible idea. We have three semesters left and I have to get my grades up. So, I want- I need you to get me through biology.” You plead.

He stands in his place for a while, looking at you with his big brown eyes, in curiosity or confusion. You couldn’t tell “Okay. Sure. "Why not," he responds with a smile.

“Good”

“Great!” he raises his eyebrows, “let’s start today, partner” and he runs backward, facing you.

“I’m not your partner!” you shout but he just gives his iconic smirk and runs away.

---/---/---

Four weeks later

“Haemodialysis vs Peritoneal Dialysis” he looks at you above the flashcards he held in his hands. You were sitting across from him.

“In hemodialysis, blood is pumped out of your body to an artificial kidney machine, and returned to your body by tubes that connect you to the machine. In peritoneal dialysis, the inside lining of your own belly acts as a natural filter.” You reply in one breath.

He switches the cards,"lactic acid”

“Lactic acid is mainly produced in muscle cells and red blood cells. It forms when the body breaks down carbohydrates to use for energy when oxygen levels are low. Happens mostly during intense exercise.”

He tries to keep a poker face, but you catch a glimpse of a smirk from behind the flashcards.

Since your truce in the field, you both have successfully completed one month in two years without getting into a flying match. This was the first highlight of the base.

The second is both your teams absolutely nailed it in the evaluation. Every single one of them passed with flying colors. The idea of merging your teams and training them together has given you excellent results. Apart from you two guiding them, and helping them as much as you can, the team members have been helping each other out too.

The third highlight was a secret between the two of you.

You got a shocking A+ in Human Anatomy and Ecology Mock Test after Joaquin started tutoring you. You would sit together in the common room after duty hours and ‘study the shit out of those damn textbooks’ (he actually said that on the first day). Despite your beliefs, he didn't shame you for your low grades. He helped you to understand the topics better, and even though you some tricks to make exam notes so that you can fit a whole topic on one page, without missing out all the important stuff for revision. You couldn’t thank him enough. This was a huge step up from what you were doing mere weeks ago.

You earned some suspicious glances from your colleagues but everyone was too exhausted to be caught up in your drama that they just avoided you altogether.

You have gotten quite close in just a few days. Turns out he is not a ruthless vampire who loves to suck the life out of everyone. He was quite tolerable when you get to know him. And he loved Power Rangers.

Instead of fighting each other, you fought over defending your favorite Power Rangers. You couldn’t stop laughing when he made a whole PowerPoint presentation on why Power Rangers SPD is the best one out of them all.

“They did the whole true-leader-vs-chosen-leader-of-the-rangers-plot thing way better than Samurai.”

“Okay but you have to admit the best plot twist had to be Tenaya 7 being Dillon’s sister in RPM.”

“I saw that coming from a mile away”

“No! you didn’t!”

For those who didn’t know, people would think you were friends if they saw you together.

“That… Was amazing. 29/30 Y/N” he says handing you the flashcards.

"Gracias" you take them.

“Oh, someone’s been learning Spanish.” He cocked his eyebrows.

And you felt it again. Your heart beating faster. The sudden heat on your face, like your blood, was ready to burst out of your system.

This happened a lot since you started to study together. He actually changed his schedule for you. The schedule that had been on his desk in a laminated sheet for 2 years, pristine and untouched, now had a mark between 6-8 PM marked 'Study'. He also had a strange annotation system in his diary that you still had to decode.

“Yeah- I... um, I knew Spanish, it was actually, my High School elective." You smiled nervously.

Why the fuck were you stammering!!!

“Nerd,” he says under his breath.

“Oh, what did you do in high school?” you narrowed your eyes.

“I played basketball and slept through history, like a normal person.”

“Jock,” you say under your breath.

And he laughed.

If someone asked you to swear in your life that you never saw him laugh, you would do it. Because he never laughed. You either earned an irritating smirk from him when he got you in trouble or a tight-lipped sarcastic smile.

Despite that, the sound of his laugh had you speechless. It was charming to describe, but it was also stunningly beautiful. His eyes crinkled as he threw his head back, and his voice was... sweet?

“Okay, enough of this, let’s wrap up and continue on Sunday.” He says as he stands up from his chair.

“Wait. Sunday? Why? We have like six more topics to cover and the mock test is on Friday. We have to- “

“Oh my god Y/N, take a breather! It’s Saturday.” He taps your head with a pencil.

“And I’m heading to an arcade bar downtown. You know, to live the glory days of my youth so I don’t turn into Captain Bexley?” Saying so he starts closing the textbooks.

“Oh. Okay,” you say as you start packing your stuff. You see him pause for a second from the corner of your eyes like he was thinking something, and he says, “You should come.” You jerk up your head at his invitation.

“Me?” you ask him with wide eyes.

“Yeah, I mean, why not. You need a break from all this. It might help you get your mind off of the Mock Test. And we still haven’t celebrated the victory of our collaboration”

Since when has Joaquin Torres of all people started to invite you out to have drinks with him?

“And I promise we will be back to our apartments by 11 so you can go back to your mundane life on Sunday.” He says as he slides his bag onto his shoulder. “You in?”

You get up and grab your things. You can’t remember the last time you went out by yourself. This might take your mind off of things.

"Okay, let's do this." You say.

“Cool” he walks away to the exit door, but as he’s about to leave, he turns and smiles at you.

“See you tomorrow,” he says and he walks away.

Now that you have seen his smile twice in one day, you cannot get over it. He looked so, so soft. He looked like a character from a romance novel with the crinkles around his eyes and the way his hair fell over his forehead. How would it feel if you run your fingers through them? As he holds you closer by your waist kissing your-

Wait.

Was Joaquin Torres… Handsome?

---/---/---

Part Two || Series Masterlist

A/N Hope you all like it I kind of went all in with this request I had no idea how this would turn out. Do reblog, like, and comment how you like this fic. Feel free to suggest and request your ideas right here-

Requests are open! Feel free to request anything.

---/---/---

Tag List:

@tuiccim @parkjammys @akinrawsx @asteph22 @iamthebeth @thefandomqueenuno @onlyhereforthefics @yikesdameron @savedfanfics1992 @amigaytho @samwilson-mylove @xbuchananbarnes-deactivated @jenniweaslee @anna-phora

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morrak · 2 years

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Untitled Wednesday Library Series, Part 89

Oh, I get it now. The days are like water and weeks happen all at once.

Brecht wrote some plays. Some of those — Baal, Trommeln in der Nacht, Im Dickicht der Städte, Leben Eduards des Zweiten von England, Die Kleinbürgerhochzeit, Der Bettler oder Der tote Hund, Er treibt einen Teufel aus, Lux in Tenebris, and Der Fischzug — are in this book. Originally prepared under Stefan Brecht in 1970, this edition was first published in the UK in ‘94, then reissued in 1998 by Metheun Drama. Let’s talk about it.

The How

I could’ve sworn I’ve featured Eric Bentley’s Seven Plays Brecht tome here, but can’t find that post just now. At any rate, I have at times been various degrees of deeply enamored by (what’s here translated as) In the Jungle of Cities. I tracked this down solely to have a second translation of that, in which process I discovered the following 7(?) volumes are weirdly tricky to obtain. Getting more is a goal; this is an odd collection.

The Text

I’m not sure I can say why it’s odd, really. I’ll try. The intro is fond but clipped and the translators involved sometimes make charismatic choices — see my beloved ‘Holà. Reptiles!’ — but mostly don’t. I like Bentley’s Im Dickicht (which he calls In the Swamp) better than the stiffer Nellhaus here. Everything here is good and without defect; much of it is quite good. Not very harmonious, I guess. All sorts of tones and voices in the same jacket.

This selection is basically of Brecht’s earliest works according to date completed rather than performance. The ordering makes that a bit of a lie, though; the one-acts are all crammed in the back after the Real Plays. Following those are a series of ‘Notes and Variants’, which range from program notes to alternate versions to appendices by Brecht.

These early plays are markedly less (or at least differently) political than most of the later ones, and his style is only starting to get established. Probably easier reading but less interesting overall for it. Probably, mind; don’t tel anyone I said so.

The Object

A dense thing, and a bright one as well. The paper is good quality but shockingly reflective, which I’m glad to say these photos don’t capture. Apart from that it looks much older than it is, which is a joint accomplishment of the crunchily serifed font and claustrophobic line spacing. Not an easy thing to read, I’m afraid.

The binding is…fine. I hate clear laminated covers, though, and this one isn’t changing my mind. If I ever get into rebinding this will be an early practice project; I really can’t stand this outside of desk use. Bad to put in a backpack or sit around with. A shame, really.

The Why, Though?

I haven’t got another print version of Edward II, either Brecht or the antecedent Marlowe. Anyway, I don’t feel like I can get rid of this if there’s any chance I find a Collected Plays: Two down the line.

#images #untitled wednesday library series

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skelezomperman · 1 year

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Revising A Tale of Star-Crossed Knights: Chapter 1

Link to Chapter 1: https://archiveofourown.org/works/39015690/chapters/97592907/

This is going to be a series of posts which is part Author's Notes, part retrospective. I've been wanting to revise my novel-length story for a while now, both to make it read better and to eventually reformat it into a good eBook format (AO3's ebook downloads unfortunately are not what I want). The first part of that was actually commissioning a lovely cover art by @racecarart; the second part is going through each chapter, revising it, and uploading the new parts to AO3.

Chapter 1 was the very first part of the story that I wrote. The first scene with the armory meeting was actually written in May 2021, over a year before the actual work on this fic began. I think my motivation for it came back in April 2022 which meant that it took about a month to produce 3000 words. This was back in a time when I had no idea what the finalized product was going to look like; I thought that I would only have eight chapters and it would be 15k-20k words (not too much longer than Divine Wind, Earth Lance). I did not have a handle on pacing and it shows.

I would estimate that the new Chapter 1 is about 35% original writing. The original plotline where Finn and Erinys go from 0 to 100 in the span of a chapter is meant to be contrived, firstly because the pairing is contrived in of itself (it's very hard to get in-game) and secondly because the plot relies on a sort of Kent/Fiora moment. But the original piece was contrived in a bad way. I especially didn't feel that there was much chemistry between the two prior to the dance. The solution to that was simple: expand on the first two scenes so they would actually show chemistry! They meet for the first time, they get to know each other and realize they're similar, and then they start becoming attracted to each other. On the other hand, I cut a short scene where Finn saves Erinys from an arrow because it didn't add much other than clichés.

The dance scene was my favorite part of the chapter so it was unchanged. I do like writing ballroom dances, perhaps to the point of leaning on it as a crutch, so I kept that. The very last scene at the end, however, did go some revision. The idea that Erinys tripped over a pebble and accidentally kissed Finn comes across as too contrived to the point of being immature. I changed it so that it's just that passion gets the better of them. I think this version of the scene also makes it more obvious that they did The Funny with each other outdoors - of course, I don't want to write anything explicit or even something that would make it rated M.

One last thing is that I'm cutting out a worldbuilding thing where real-world European languages like French filtered into the fic. That got dropped after around Chapter 9 and I don't want to leave a vestige of something that gets dropped out. A couple OCs will probably face a similar fate...Ah well, editing does mean you have to cut things you like.

---

For posterity's sake, here are the original author's notes:

Welcome to my Finn/Erinys longform fic. I'm finally getting around to doing this journey, charting the relationship from when they first meet to the end of the game when Finn is with his kids. I don't intend to novelize the entire thing but I want to try to get as much as I can think of on paper, from start to finish. I'm going to incorporate the four previous fics I've made so far as well. At the moment my outline has eight chapters, but I might add more if I feel a need to split up chapters or add more content. Targeting for one chapter a week but I'm not completely sure, depends on my motivation ebbing and flowing.

This chapter is basically an introduction; a fluff if you will. There's not really that much development because it's just Finn and Erinys falling in love. Probably rushed but that's okay because the idea is that they let their emotions take over eventually - they have a Kent/Fiora moment, if you will. At first they deny they're in love even though Lewyn and to a lesser extent Quan are egging them on, but later on they go from 0 to 100 because they're young. I refuse to write them doing the actual act but yes, they do the thing at the end of the chapter. We'll see that it has consequences in the next couple chapters, and it's not going to be completely clean. But I can promise that there will be a bit more fluff in the next chapter with a proper date or two.

Also if you're curious, the currencies are real life references. *Denier* is French for denarius and it was the currency used by the Franks in the early Middle Ages. *Marka* was an obscure currency used by Poland during the first years of the II Rzeczpospolita before it was replaced by the złoty. I didn't want to be too on the nose with those.

#skele's authors notes #star-crossed knights notes

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thenonconformistcurmudgeon · 2 months

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Miss Peggy Lee

It does not take much for me to start a new obsession. The latest is Miss Peggy Lee, the old jazz/pop singer from long ago. You know the “Fever” singer. “You give me fever”. “Chicks were born to give you fever, Be it Fahrenheit or centigrade”.

My preoccupation begins after my wife sends me a video clip of Miss Peggy singing “It’s a good day” from 1946. She knew I would like it but probably didn’t know to what extent. A very upbeat swinging tune. “and it’s a good day for payin’ your bills, cause it’s a good day for curin’ your ills, so take a deep breath and throw away the pills, ‘Cause it’s a good day from morning ‘till night”. Youthful with a 40’s curly hairdo and a great outfit and sung with attitude. I was enthralled.

youtube

Now I remember Miss Peggy when she was much older, singing on variety shows like Sullivan and my memory was that she was always introduced as Miss Peggy Lee with the Miss having to be there. I remember when I was a kid finding it odd that she was introduced this way when others were not. Other than that, I had no interest when she performed, feeling she was just an old timer, out of step with the current culture. I probably just tuned her out, went to the bathroom, or got something to eat unless the vertical or horizontal hold needed fixing.

It's amazing how time can change one’s perspective. I now love her voice and songs and have been playing them over and over. Smoky jazz tunes. Of course, I had to research her life and music. She was a singer songwriter which was rare back in the day and wrote 270 songs including the songs in Disney’s Lady and the Tramp and voiced 4 characters in the movie. She basically produced her own stage shows, choreographed every movement, eye brow raise, curling lip, crooked smile, and was in charge of the lighting and even designed some of her performance outfits. She performed for 65 years, at the end while in a wheelchair. Well, it turns out my memory was correct. She insisted on being introduced as Miss Peggy Lee because she felt it was a sign of respect. I am glad that my memory was accurate but even more satisfied knowing that I noticed peculiarities as a kid.

She grew up in nowheresville North Dakota. Born in 1920, she was a farm girl. She was abused by a stepmother. She didn’t live where there were movie theatres and likely relied on the radio to dream big for herself. Benny Goodman discovered her singing on the radio when she was 14.

The Muppet Miss Piggy was originally called Miss Piggy Lee and the designer was also from North Dakota and modeled her after Peggy. Miss Piggy is a temperamental diva superstar personality and I guess although our hero came from humble beginnings was a temperamental artist. From a 2002 article in the Observer by Rex Reed: “Miss Peggy Lee, the singing icon who kept her public perking, was often a completely different person in private. Friends and musicians describe her as quirky, obsessive, demanding, stubborn, illogical, eccentric, driven by anger, tortured by a lack of love and strange to the point of madness. Of her four marriages that ended bitterly, she said the one to handsome movie star Dewey Martin was punctuated by so much abusive violence that she took to wearing a football helmet to the dinner table. Robert Richards, the noted artist and illustrator, once entered a disastrous business partnership with “Miss Peg” that required him to live in her home in Beverly Hills for a six-month period that is best described as an exotic season in purgatory. “She rarely left her bedroom, which was as cold as a meat locker. You would attend a business meeting at the foot of her bed. Your teeth would be chattering and she would be covered with feathers under a mountain of blankets. She was up all night, writing notes to herself with an assortment of pens and colored markers. Then she would wake at noon, or mid-afternoon, surrounded by piles of crushed papers on the bed–thoughts, musings, pieces of terrible song lyrics, poems, memos to ‘Send to Frank!’”.

Is that all there is? Is that all there is? If that's all there is my friends, then let's keep dancing Let's break out the booze and have a ball If that's all there is

In Wimbledon ND, population 180, the high school home of Miss Peggy Lee was turned into a World Renown combination museum of Peggy and a Depot Transportation Museum as the downstairs part of the house was the depot that her father worked at and they lived above. The museum is free but there are no regular hours and you have to call ahead for a tour appointment. I guess they don’t get much foot traffic in Wimbledon, ND. However, on her birthday, May 26th each year, the museum is open for 3 hours and you are invited for cake, coffee and conversation. In town, there is only a singular café which is located in the grocery store, open only 11:30-1:00, Monday through Friday, serving mostly fried food. Can’t beat the prices, $7.99 for the fish basket with fries, cheeseburger deluxe for $8.50. I’d be sure to time my visit to also hit up the café. This definitely goes on the bucket list with the Pigeon Museum in Oklahoma City and Museum of Barbed Wire in Kansas.

Hey, big spender! Hey, big spender! Hey, big spender Spend a little time with me Spend a little time with me Spend a little time with me.

#Miss Peggy Lee #Youtube

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maximotts · 2 years

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𝑏𝑒𝑠𝑡 𝑙𝑎𝑖𝑑 𝑝𝑙𝑎𝑛𝑠 • 𝑤. 𝑚𝑎𝑥𝑖𝑚𝑜𝑓𝑓 & 𝑛. 𝑟𝑜𝑚𝑎𝑛𝑜𝑓𝑓

a/n: welp, here's the beginning of this two-parter! Part 6 will be out tomorrow so try not to yell at me too much for where I've left it. This part is a whopper of a fic, completely unplanned to be so, but what can I say? I love my mob wives

warnings: This is an 18+ AU, minors DNI; heavy flirting by Natasha; dry humping; mommy/daddy kink; lap sits and ass grabbing, Nat is just very touchy; reader is a simp, but a horny simp

summary: Private Hire AU; Natasha enlists your help for a Valentine's surprise for Wanda to come home to, you end up being involved a lot more than you planned

words: 4.8K

private hire au. || main masterlist.

Natasha Romanoff was not a romantic.

In the half a year you’d known her, you’d never seen a public display of affection phase her, no matter how sweet and heartfelt. There’d been times where Wanda roped the both of you into watching a romantic comedy on the couch or in bed and each time without fail, Natasha’s focus would wander, choosing to tease and poke at Wanda until she got annoyed enough that she either put you in between them or snapped at her, leaving the redhead to pout and mumble through the rest of the film.

The only time she brought Wanda flowers was as an apology, trying to slide her way back into the woman’s good graces after she’d messed up badly enough. Wanda wouldn’t always immediately accept the apology, but she never threw away the gift— if there was a bouquet on her desk or in the kitchen, it was confirmation that Wanda was coming around. Despite her aversions, somehow Wanda and Natasha still clicked. The more you watched the two interact, the more you realized it was because they accepted each other completely— faults, annoyances, and all. Even if Natasha could care less about winning a cheap, dirty stuffed animal at the boardwalk on their day out, when Wanda alluded to wanting one, Natasha shot every target perfectly to give Wanda the giant panda that now sat in her private home office. And Wanda, knowing romance was far from Natasha’s thing, never pushed or expected something she knew her wife would be uncomfortable with performing.

Thankfully, this made it easy to surprise Wanda. Valentine’s weekend was painfully commercialized, sickeningly so for Natasha, but every year she watched her wife sigh and awe at the sweet displays of affection and this time when the month of February came around, she was ready. The first you heard of this plan was when Natasha interrupted your casual reading to inform you that you wouldn’t be going to work that evening and to follow her. You were slightly confused, but she didn’t seem angry, just… stiff.

It was weird to see her in such a way in her own home, even when you were a near stranger in her home, she never changed her behavior around you. Natasha was always unapologetically who she was, even if it was a carefully constructed persona to most, she was comfortable with it, never uneasy like she was now. The wordless trek led you both into the large kitchen, organized and cleaned just as the housekeeper left it that morning. When you reached the kitchen island, Natasha slid a few pieces of paper over to you and as your eyes scanned the worn pages you realized they were recipes.

“I need you to make a cocktail tonight that will go with this stuff. And it has to be special.” Natasha wasn’t looking at you, eyes focused on where her fingers were drumming against the marble countertops. If you didn’t know any better, you’d say she looked nervous.

You gave her a moment, busying yourself with looking at the ingredients for whatever stew was being described on the page; the original words were in handwritten Russian, ink smudged and paper crumpled, but there was a set of post-it notes with the English translation that you assumed Natasha wrote up for you. It was an easy enough request, ideas already forming in your head, but usually you knew about any sort of gathering well in advance. “What time is the party? I’ll have the setup ready by then.”

“There is no party.” Natasha’s reply was quick, clipped when she remembered that you were always the curious type. Wanda was typically the one who answered your questions, whether they were directed at her or not, but Wanda wasn’t here. When she looked at you, she could see your head about to explode with further questions, trying not to bombard her with them when she would clearly hate answering them. “It’s Valentine’s Day weekend.”

Natasha started gathering food from the fridge, balancing the long list of ingredients in her arms effortlessly. She aligned them on the counter in the order she’d need them, but she must’ve still sensed your confusion because with a deep sigh, she continued to try to make it click, “This is for Wanda.”

Oh.

Your smile was immediate, stretching across your face proudly while Natasha rolled her eyes, having hoped when she explained you’d just do your task. “Natasha, that’s so… cute.”

“It’s not cute.” Natasha was dicing carrots so fast with her sharp knife looking at the action gave you anxiety. “I’m doing something nice for my wife, she deserves it.” It was true, Wanda had been working insanely hard these days. Even now, she’d been across the country securing a business deal by herself because the last time Natasha talked to them, two henchmen ended up dead. There was nothing wrong with doing it alone, but Wanda overworked herself making sure everything was in perfect place, even texting you and Natasha every night to assure the two of you had eaten and weren’t burning the house down.

It was still weird sometimes to see them act so married. Obviously they were, they certainly didn’t hide it, but Wanda’s check-in texts and Natasha’s sweet gestures were so domestic it made you forget the dangerous underworld they controlled.

When Natasha didn’t shoo you away, you took the opportunity to sit at the kitchen island, watching her work in silence. “I didn’t know you cooked.”

“I don’t, but I can. It’s hard to get time to fit that in when you’re meeting with armed people in smoke dens or parked cars more nights than not.” Natasha did have the more physical job of your two bosses; Wanda’s smooth way with people meant she handled negotiations in calm meetings and agreements on paper while Natasha’s brute force usually meant there would be some sort of violence by the time she was through. Consequently, if there wasn’t food made for them, Wanda was the one cooking.

You made a small noise of agreement as the pan started to sizzle with the vegetables Natasha dropped in, leaning on your elbow to relax further. “Not to critique, but Valentine’s Day isn’t for a few days, you know? Why are you doing it now?”

Natasha shrugged, pushing the cut pieces around as the tempting aroma of garlic and onion filled the kitchen. “Wanda’s coming home today and as much as she’s been checking in on us, I know she’s not taking care of herself as well as she should be. She’s always been like that…” Her expressions pushed through then, Natasha frowning and her brow furrowing with worry. You didn’t comment on it, but the only times you’d seen her resolve fall was when it came to Wanda. Sometimes she glanced over at the brunette and there was a shine in her eyes that no one else received, or times like now where loving concern and her inability to physically be there for Wanda made her a bit sad. Getting to see a bit of Natasha’s heart filled yours to the brim.

“Well she’s got us to take care of her at least,” Using ‘us’ surprised you, but Natasha hummed in agreement and you couldn’t help but smile that she’d let you in on their little domestic bubble. “Actually, what are you making? You didn’t translate the name and I know very little Russian.”

Natasha chuckled, “I’m aware. You look completely lost when Wanda or I speak anything but English.” You flushed, laughing nervously; picking up on language was a slow process for you and really, the only things you’d internalized from them so far were dirty jokes and the occasional hurled insult. “Basically it’s beef chunks and potatoes with carrots. Believe it or not, I had to make it a lot for Wanda at first because it was the only thing I knew how to cook and the most familiar dish to her when we came to America.”

Her little anecdote surprised you. There was no hiding that your bosses were from Russia and Sokovia; Wanda’s accent was slight most days, only slipping into the deep inflection when she was exhausted, angry, or riled up for another reason and while Natasha’s accent was completely gone unless she specifically wanted it there, anyone who knew anything about Natasha Romanoff knew of her infamous deeds in Russia. Still, you rarely heard them talk about how they came to be here or what even brought them together. In all honesty, you’d been too afraid to ask.

It was hard to imagine Wanda in a state where she had to rely on someone else; the woman prided herself on being in control of every situation she found herself in, but the more you thought about it, the more you realized the need probably stemmed from the lack of control she’d had for so long. “It’s cut- nice, I mean, that you’d do something so thoughtful for her for Valentine’s Day. She’ll love it.”

“That’s the plan.” The mischievous grin Natasha wore as she compiled everything into a stock pot made everything fall into place. There was no doubt Natasha did truly want to be kind to Wanda, but it was a known fact that whenever she surprised her with something very out of the ordinary, Wanda was putty in Natasha’s hands. The redhead’s forward thinking ensured Wanda’s happiness and well-being while also giving her a golden ticket to whatever she wanted; you didn’t know a lot about Natasha’s inner thoughts, but there was no way she’d pass up extra leverage in the bedroom. It was a simple but calculated move that clearly Natasha knew she could pull every once in a while without Wanda catching on. She was stirring the stew calmly, a barely there lightness to her while she hummed to herself, completely unashamed of her Valentine’s trickery; it was no wonder she’d been a top spy, her plans were devious.

Dinner was left to cook for hours and while it did, the two of you fell into an easy existence, you experimenting with different liquors and syrups to find the ones that you thought would go perfectly with the hearty beef dish while Natasha busied herself with arranging the flowers she’d ordered on the dining room table. You didn’t talk tons, but sometimes you found yourself staring at Natasha and her long wavy hair, the slope of her back into the curve of her ass as she leant over the table and roamed around the house, and couldn’t help but wonder if you too would reap the benefits of Natasha making Wanda happy later.

Natasha knew what you were doing, you were sure of it, because sometimes she would bend further than needed only to ask you a question just to watch you stutter out a lame answer. She was the bigger flirt between her and her lover, but it was rare she indulged you like Wanda did; Natasha knew you were into her and she was content to let you pine from afar. Besides, although the pair shared you, there was never any question you were Wanda’s first and if Wanda hadn’t done something with you yet, Natasha couldn’t take that first time away from you. Not that she didn’t want to, of course, it frustrated her beyond belief how long Wanda waited, but the woman adored being lusted after and Natasha told Wanda more times than she could count that you’d still look at the brunette with that stupid little puppy dog expression on your face, Wanda was having too much fun leaving you constantly wanting to have done anything truly physical yet.

On special occasions though, when Wanda was feeling particularly cruel, she’d been known to taunt you mercilessly until you looked as though you were going to pass out and since Wanda had done it, technically there was nothing stopping Natasha from also playing into it. She sauntered over to the bar innocently enough, catching you off guard while you were engrossed in cleaning any used bar glasses. “Do you have your part all ready?”

It was a simple yes or no question, just one word for you to utter, but your mouth ran dry when you’d started to look up from the sink. Your focus was stuck on her breasts, round and perfect as they rested on the wooden bar. Maybe Natasha had undone a few extra buttons while she worked, but now with how she leaned over they were on full display and it was a miracle your iron grip didn’t shatter the glass you were holding. “Y-Yeah, I finished. It’s just chilling in the fridge now..” You shook your head and coughed, trying to cover your reaction, but you’d been too obvious. Just as you were about to apologize, Natasha shushed you with a finger to your lips, pushing forward over the counter until she was inches from your face.

“I hope you know you’re expected to have dinner with us tonight.” You nodded, trying to look anywhere but those deep green eyes, “That means if everything goes to plan, you’re going to bed with us.” Your head barely moved this time, a rough gulp of air hurting your throat. “It wasn’t just me that made something for her; you made the drinks and I’m sure you did something extra special for my dear wife, didn’t you?” Natasha wasn’t even waiting for your response this time, grabbing your cheeks in her hand and moving your head for you. “She’ll love you for that, you know. If you asked her for anything, she’d most likely give it.”

Natasha smelled like a mix of cinnamon and plum, the dark fragrance clouding your brain. “There’s something you want really badly, isn’t there?” You tried to shake your head no, embarrassment keeping you from admitting what was at the front of your mind, but Natasha’s grip never wavered, pulling your head up and down while she nodded yes along with you. “Don’t lie to me, you want my wife to fuck you.” Your eyes went wider than ever, but Natasha just smirked, “You’re not very good at hiding it. Running to do everything she asks, curling up next to her like a needy kitten. Hell, even getting her off and hoping she’d finally return the favor. But she hasn’t yet, has she?”

This time you shook your head of your own accord, biting your lip as you thought of the few times Wanda called on you for your help, quick things where she wouldn’t let you use your mouth on her as much as you begged. The one time you whined about being left to your own devices, the spanking Wanda gave you instead left you standing and sleeping uncomfortably for a week.

“You poor thing, I’m sorry. She’s a stubborn one, it took me a while to learn just what buttons to push.” Natasha bent far enough to place a kiss along your jaw. And then another, and yet another until her full lips met your earlobe. A shiver ran up your spine as she pulled it with her teeth, but still she held your head at her mercy, “She wants to fuck you, so badly that I’ve told her to just get it over with, but like I said.. she’s stubborn. It kills me sometimes,” It took you a second to realize it was you who’d let out the moan, Natasha’s low chuckle in your ear only making you grip the counter harder. “Especially because I want to fuck you too. What about it, do you want that?”

“Please…” Living in this house with two women who constantly tormented you was like some kind of sapphic purgatory; they made you feel just as much loved and desired as they did shaky and breathless and without being allowed to ask, most nights you felt like screaming with the weight of your pent up tension.

“I think, if we played our cards right, we could ask her to finally do it. Then I can too and you’ll be free to play with us whenever you want. How’s that sound, want mommy and daddy to fuck you to your little heart’s content?” You didn’t know when your eyes closed or when you started breathing deeply through your mouth, but as soon as you started to nod, the kitchen timer went off and your eyes snapped open. Natasha pulled back, ending the moment you two shared as quickly as she did the kitchen timer.

“Let’s go check on dinner, shall we?”

_____

Natasha let you have a taste of the food simmering away in the pot and honestly, it was better than you’d expected it to be; she was actually a great cook. “Wanda’s going to love it! When is she getting home again?”

“I was told her plane landed, but she has yet to tell me she’s on her way?” The woman tapped away at her phone, presumably texting Wanda. You were halfway through pouring your drink into a glass when Natasha slammed her fist on the counter, scoffing loudly as her phone clattered to the surface.

She was angry now and despite the pleasant day you’d had together, Natasha was still scary when she was mad. She must have sensed your hesitation to ask because she wordlessly slid her phone over to you, letting you read.

ETA?

Something came up. Went across town to deal with it, probably won’t be home until late.

Get someone else to deal with it. Come home.

I’m already here. See you tonight x

In all fairness, there was no way Wanda would’ve thought there was anything past Natasha missing her in seeing her request to come home and there was no way to say it without ruining the surprise. But when you looked at Natasha stewing across the kitchen, mumbling something dangerous under her breath, you kept your mouth shut. “Maybe we can try again tomorrow?”

Natasha’s glare hit you like a bullet, shrinking away so hard you took a few steps back even though she was many feet away already. “It won’t be the same tomorrow. I made it today.”

She wasn’t wrong, but Natasha’s anger kept her from being flexible; her plan falling apart with one unexpected text. You pulled your own phone from your pocket and sent a quick ‘hey maybe you should come home sooner’ message to Wanda, but as expected, you didn’t receive a response. All you could do was give Natasha her space so you resolved to backing out of the room, separating before she could snap at you again. “Where are you going?”

You turned around at that, looking to the stove where Natasha was putting stew into bowls. “I thought I’d just go-”

“I didn’t tell you to go anywhere.” Well then, it looked like you were staying. It took you a while to get close to her again, taking your time in case she changed her mind, but she never did. Not when she plated and garnished the bowls and even still when you finished your pouring from earlier. “Let’s have dinner, shall we?”

___

Dinner was making you nervous though, the two of you eating in silence while Natasha stared holes into the seat Wanda typically took at the table. It was a pretty setup, really; there were candles that were supposed to be lit around the room, the large arrangement of flowers Natasha bought for her wife adorning the length of the table in a way you knew Wanda would melt over whenever she did see it. Finally you finished your food though and, having had enough of sitting so formally, tried yet again to excuse yourself. “It was really great, Natasha… I’m sorry Wanda wasn’t here, but she’ll still appreciate it when she comes home.”

It was as genuine as you could be, not knowing what else you could say to calm her down. You’d hoped that some time during dinner you’d get a text back from Wanda, something you could show Natasha to let her relax just a bit, but you’d heard nothing. Staring down on your phone one last time and being met with no notifications, you sighed, pushing your chair back. “I miss her too, just so you know. I hate when she’s gone for so long.”

Natasha perked up at that, a new plan in her head now— a way she could satisfy herself as well as get back at her wife for standing her up. “Come over here, sweetheart.”

You obeyed of course, abandoning your phone on the table to make your way over to where Natasha sat at the head of the table. She’d pushed her chair back, legs spread to make as much space as possible. You’d spent enough time in this household to know what she meant by the look she was giving you, but the vast majority of the time, you’d gotten it from Wanda. You could count on one hand the times you’d sat in Natasha’s lap, but when she took your hand and tugged you towards her, you sat without a struggle.

It never crossed your mind that Natasha still had a plan, you figured she just wanted someone to hold— Wanda did that with you sometimes too. But then Natasha’s hands wandered, slow enough for you to wonder if you were imagining her intentions at first, but then her nose rubbed against your neck and when your shiver only made her pull you closer, you realized what she had in mind. “You miss mommy too?”

“Y-Yes…” A hand slid under your shirt, holding your back securely while she maneuvered until you were straddling her properly. Your hands rested on her shoulders for lack of other places to put them, fiddling with the fabric while Natasha roamed over your midsection. “She’ll be back soon…”

Natasha knew you were only thinking of Wanda’s possible reaction to your compromising position, but she didn’t care; she’d deal with Wanda later. “Don’t worry, baby. I was told to take the best care of you while she was gone and that’s all I’m doing.” That wasn’t all she was doing and you both knew it, if Wanda wouldn’t come home then she’d make her regret not doing so. A soft gesture hadn’t gotten her attention, but playing with her pet while she was away? That would always work without fail.

Strong hands slid up your bare thighs, effortlessly pushing up your skirt until you felt exposed. “You like being a good girl, don’t you?” Her thumbs rubbed into the soft flesh of your legs, angling you forward until her clothed hips met your cotton underwear. You hadn’t noticed the bulge in her pants all day, how could you, but when rocked up into you, there was no denying the prominent strap on. “This was supposed to be for Wanda, but I’m sure you’d love to keep it warm for her.”

She cupped your ass with a possessive force, forcing you against her until you’d started grinding down on your own. “There you go, dove, we can still have fun and miss mommy together.” It was all you could to mutter out a quick yes, the friction of the layers of fabric against you working you up faster than expected, but it most likely also had to do with Natasha’s filthy words. “If I had it my way, I would have fucked you by now. I’d do it right now too…”

“Please.. please do it..” You’d had enough of being messed with until you couldn’t think straight; it was driving you wild and if Natasha would put you out of your misery, you weren’t going to tell her no.

But Natasha shook her head, even as her hands bypassed your panties in favor of your heated skin, “Wanda would kill me. You’re her baby, she’d never let me hear the end of it.” Pitiful whines only made her want to continue with her little game, thoroughly enjoying her impromptu after dinner entertainment. It was nothing compared to what she’d have planned, but getting to reduce you to a babbling mess so quickly helped her get her mind off of how much she missed her wife. “She hasn’t even touched you here yet?”

Her fingertips rested just about the waistband of your underwear, digging into the soft flesh of your lower belly as you fought for any bit of pleasure you could muster just an inch or so below. “No.. please..”

“But if she hasn’t done it, I can’t, baby. You know the rules.” Your frustrated cry was music to Natasha’s ears; if she dared pull you back, she was sure she’d see tears. “But she lets you grind on her like this?” She already knew the answer, having watched the two of you many nights where she’d pull you close, touch you all the right places, just to watch to beg for how much you needed her. Everyone thought Natasha was the sadist, but Wanda had a very dark streak of her own, masked with sweet words and gentle gestures so that you’d let her cruelty roll over you repeatedly, completely unguarded.

When you nodded, Natasha thrust her hips up, the hard toy bumping your clothed clit so perfectly you crumpled into her. Natasha took charge of your movements then, steering your hips to roll against hers methodically— you might as well have been completely limp in her arms. It didn’t matter either way, she’d still have full control. “Mommy can be so mean sometimes, can’t she?”

You agreed easily, not because you thought Wanda was excessively mean to you, but the pleasure made you compliant; it was no wonder her wife went so submissive for the redhead. Any words you wanted to utter would be slurred, but if you asked one more time you thought maybe, just maybe, Natasha would give in. “Fuck me, daddy.. I need it..”

“Of course you do, little one… Wanda’s been so hard on you, making you wait so long.” Thankfully Natasha was strong enough to hold you on her lap because your squirming was powerful, anguished, greedy for anything she would let you have. The string of pleases wasn’t loud per se, but they were obvious, especially as Wanda traversed the house, searching for the two of you. She found you there at the end of the dining room table, near out of your mind on her wife’s lap while Natasha taunted you with the promise of fucking you before Wanda gave in. It wasn’t the first time Natasha had played with you, Wanda didn’t mind that; it was the confidence with which she promised to fuck you, assuring that if you kept it a secret she’d never tell. You were agreeing of course and as much as Wanda didn’t want to fault you for it, possessiveness urged her to lash out at both of you.

“Don’t you dare, Natasha Romanoff.”

Wanda’s threat was like a bucket of ice water, burrowing deeper into Natasha as if she could protect you from Wanda’s anger. “Oh, look who decided to come home!” You could hear Natasha’s smirk and internally you screamed at her to keep quiet, but you knew she wouldn’t. She wanted a rise out of Wanda, any emotion she could get. Natasha loved irritating Wanda and now you saw her full second plan: if she couldn’t get her wife in bed tonight, she’d get under her skin instead and what better way than with you.

“Don’t start with me. Glad to see you can still make everyone fall for you.” The words were said with a bite that told you Wanda had known what she felt before; Natasha might have hit a nerve more vulnerable than expected. Your silence didn’t save you however, because Wanda was yanking your head around with a force that you were surprised didn’t snap your neck. “And you..”

“I-I’m sor-” Wanda held your jaw, keeping any words you had stuck in your throat. You dared to look at her and instantly regretted it, large green eyes staring you down with so much contempt you wanted to shrivel up and die.

“Save it.” She was scaring you slightly, but prolonged eye contact let you see just the barest glimpse of hurt and you went from frightened to ashamed in an instant. “I always knew you were a whore, but I didn’t know it was for everyone.” You knew Wanda was saying it to hurt you, she didn’t mean it— that didn’t mean it hurt any less. Neither you nor Natasha had done anything wrong according to your agreement, but Wanda’s possessive nature was provoked and whenever that happened, she lashed out.

She pulled away abruptly, leaving you falling until Natasha saved you from falling backwards onto the floor. Natasha looked fully unbothered, knowing her wife enough to know she wasn’t in nearly as deep trouble as she could’ve been. “Don’t be a brat, Wands. If you don’t play well with your toys, someone else will.”

Wanda just scoffed and rolled her eyes, turning on her heel without another word. Despite Natasha’s coolness, you couldn’t help but feel like she’d landed you in boiling water.

#private hire au #virtual valentines weekend #wandanat x reader #wandanat x f!reader #wandanat x fem!reader #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x f!reader #natasha romanoff x female!reader #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x f!reader #wanda maximoff x female reader #natasha romanoff fic #natasha romanoff smut #wanda maximoff fic #wanda maximoff smut #natasha romanoff fluff #marvel imagine #motts writes.

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syllvane · 3 years

Text

graphology- kaz brekker x reader

a/n: here it is, my entry to @lxncelot ‘s writing challenge!! i chose to write kaz x reader with the prompt leaving letters/notes in each other’s pockets! hope you guys enjoy!

Kaz’s pockets are almost never empty, but he’s always aware of exactly what he has in his pockets- something as simple as that could mean life or death in the Barrel, whether or not he happens to be carrying a knife or a stone of a particular weight.

That’s where he found your grocery list, in his coat pocket, somewhere between his lockpick and a small stone.

Well, he didn’t know that it was yours, not by the contents of the list alone.

But there was the irrefutable fact that it was written in your handwriting, in the handwriting that Kaz had spent hours memorizing should the need to identify it arise.

He had always imagined that this skill would be used in the unfortunate event of your kidnapping, that he would use it to discern whether or not they were forging any communication or if they were making you write it yourself.

Or maybe he just wanted an excuse to memorize your handwriting.

In any case, there was also the fact that you were the only one at the Slat who would be bold enough to wear his jacket.

Standing in the middle of the street, Kaz Brekker smiled to himself, folding the grocery list neatly and tucking it back into his pocket.

He doesn’t return it to you directly.

You find it neatly folded on your nightstand when you return from your shift at the Crow Club, with no clue to how it got there.

You try to carry nothing valuable in your coat pockets, not as adept as Kaz at detecting when someone is trying to pickpocket you.

You keep a lockpick and a couple of stray knives in your pockets and a small roll of gauze, having nicked yourself on the knives on more than a couple of occasions.

You don’t usually keep stray pieces of paper, so when you feel one in your pocket, you figure that it must be one that you left in there accidentally.

When you pull the neatly folded paper out, it’s not your handwriting on it, but familiar handwriting nonetheless.

The paper is mostly blank, with only ten words written on the entirety of the page.

‘Why do you have so many knives in your pockets?’

You know it’s him by the way he writes the letter ‘k’- the rest of the words could be written by someone else for all you know, but you know that Kaz Brekker wrote that one letter.

You ran your finger gently over the words, feeling the imprints of the letters from the other side of the paper.

You held the paper in your hand and walked back to the Slat and into Kaz’s office.

“You know,” He started without looking up. “Some people have the courtesy to knock.”

He looked up at you, his blue eyes piercing yours before dropping to the piece of paper that you held in your hand.

An amused look flashed in his eyes.

“I could just give you a holster for your knives.”

“I like having the knives in my pockets- they’re easily accessible and-”

“They stab people trying to put notes into your pocket?” He finished, his eyes sparkling.

You smiled at him, your eyes sparkling as well.

“Yeah, something like that,” You said, setting the piece of paper down in front of him before turning towards the door. “Oh, and Kaz?”

“Yes?”

“Thank you for giving my grocery list back.”

He fights the urge to say that he didn’t take it from you in the first place, that you left it in his coat pocket. He knows that he should tell you not to use his jacket anymore and that next time you leave something, he won’t be as kind, but he doesn’t.

After all, Kaz Brekker doesn’t make threats if he doesn’t intend to keep them.

He settles for shaking his head, a smile tugging at his lips.

The next time he puts on his coat, he really doesn’t expect another scrap of paper in his pockets.

Once was a mistake, something that could be easily overlooked.

Twice was a pattern.

He opened up the crumpled piece of paper, expecting maybe another errant grocery list.

Scrawled in your handwriting: ‘Stay safe, boss’

His heart skipped a beat as he read the piece of paper and he felt himself blush slightly- thankfully for the cold weather, the note didn’t make his cheeks any more red then they would be otherwise.

He was going to have to address this.

For now though, he tucked the piece of paper in a pocket on the inside of his coat, near his chest, shaking his head at how sentimental he had become.

‘Stop stealing my coat.’

That’s the message you found in Kaz’s own coat pocket and you couldn’t say that it was entirely unwarranted.

And it’s the message that Kaz sees again later when he’s wearing his own coat, though underneath his original message, you had added a single word.

‘No.’

Maybe he should’ve been furious at your defiance, at the very least annoyed that you were going to continue wearing his coat after he explicitly told you not to.

Instead, he looked at the note on his desk with a strange smile appearing on his face, feeling something dangerously close to happiness.

The third piece of paper that you leave in Kaz’s coat, much like the first, is completely by accident.

Only this time, it’s not a grocery list that you’ve left in his coat, but poetry.

And if that wasn’t mortifying enough in itself, of course the words had been written in his name, though it hadn’t been addressed directly to him. It may as well have been though, having been left in his coat pocket.

All of this left only one option- you had to get it back before he could read it.

When you opened the door to his office, you were surprised to see Kaz sitting there, though not as surprised as he was to see you in his doorway.

His expression twisted into something unfamiliar but before you could place it, he coughed and his gaze became steely once again.

“You still haven’t learned to knock,” He said pointedly and you looked around the office sheepishly before stepping back into the hallway, closing the door in front of you.

You knocked.

“No one’s home,” He said, his voice muffled from the other side of the door and you rolled your eyes before opening the door again.

“Liar,” You mumbled, though not loud enough for him to hear. “I need your coat.”

He blinked.

“Last time I checked, you had one.”

“It’s not as warm,” You said and although that was true, it was not the reason you wanted it.

He stared at you, as if sensing that you were withholding information, but he didn’t push you on that.

“Why do you insist on stealing my coat?”

“It’s not stealing. I always give it back.”

“Stealing, borrowing without permission, what is the difference really, when I would never allow it of anyone else.”

You didn’t say anything to that, didn’t know what to say.

It wasn’t new information, but there was an unspoken agreement between the two of you that it wouldn’t be spoken aloud. You would steal his coat and Kaz would be annoyed, as if this was something all the Dregs did. You would give it back at the end of the day or whenever you were done wearing it and he would simply shake his head, a small smile playing on his lips and he would tell you not to do it again.

There was never any threat of reprisal, never any threats at all. It was probably better that way- he was known for making good on his word and he would have never lifted a finger against you.

You trusted him absolutely and it had scared all of your common sense right out of you.

“I am going to go to the Crow Club for business,” He said, interrupting your thoughts. “I am going to leave my coat here. Don’t take it.”

You wanted to ask him Why don’t you just give it to me?, but you stopped yourself- you already knew the answer.

Giving it to you would be crossing a line in his mind, a line that he probably couldn’t come back from. It was one thing to leave it here, knowing that you would probably take it against his direct orders and another to give it to you, to watch you put it on.

You watched as he shrugged the coat off, setting it down on his chair. He walked over to the door, his hand on the doorknob.

“If you leave it here, I’m going to put it on.”

He stopped, lowering his head slightly before turning the doorknob and opening the door.

“I wouldn’t leave it here if I thought you wouldn’t,” He said before walking out, closing the door behind him.

You stood there with his words for a little bit before walking over to where he had set his coat down.

You put it on gingerly, as if Kaz might walk back in at any moment and change his mind.

You slipped your hand into the coat pockets and ran through the list of familiar items: lockpick, a couple of stones, a pocket knife, and a wallet that he had taken from a tourist earlier today.

Also there, a scrap of paper.

You unfolded it to see that part of the poem had been ripped away, leaving the very last lines of the poem in your hand.

‘You are home and there is nowhere I would rather be but in your arms.’

Underneath the last words, in neat handwriting that you had come to know as Kaz’s: ‘I don’t think I could’ve said it better myself.’

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finelinevogue · 3 years

Note

Can you expand on that topic of Harry buying that island for Y/N to conserve like you touched upon on the 73 questions thing you wrote please?

oooh yes!! i didn’t think this would be something that people would bring up but i’m excited to talk about it!! enjoy;

oli - 4, felix - 3, belle - 3 weeks

“What about this one?”

The same question Anne and Harry had been repeating for the last two hours. Neither Anne or Harry could decide on an island that they both thought you would absolutely love - an island that Harry would buy somewhere new for you to conserve and protect, for future family vacations and eventually potentially even retire to, whenever that day may come.

He had originally thought about purchasing a large plot of land along the coastline of Italy, because it had always captured a special place in Harrys heart. He loved the people, the culture, the weather, the food and he loved you when you’re bathing in the Italian sun. The boot-shaped country was the one in which you and Harry had spent your first holiday together. It was where you’d had your honeymoon. It was where, you’re pretty sure, that Oli was conceived. It held so many precious memories, so you both thought it time to make the country more permanent in your lives and purchase a house over there.

Unfortunately, due to coronavirus, Harry wasn’t able to physically go anywhere and house, or island, hunt - especially with a 3 week old baby. Belle had been born on October 2nd and she was an absolute angel - as happy as can be. Oli and Fix were currently looking after her, whilst Anne and Harry sorted through the mess of trying to organise the gift of a lifetime for you. Luckily you were out with a friend, shopping for baby clothes and a little something for yourself, for the day so Harry could complete his surprise in secret. Harry already held property in Malibu, New York, Japan, London and Manchester. He, until recently, had an apartment in San Fransisco, but he never used it and so the money that he got from selling that was going to be spent buying an island for you.

He always remembers one of the first conversations that he ever had with you and it was about how you wanted to change the world. You’d answered “I think i’d buy my own island and start conserving the planet one bit of land at a time, until I save it all!” Now obviously you were being very optimistic and silly with your dreams, but that’s all you thought they’d be - dreams. Harry was willing to make them a reality though. Okay, perhaps not world domination but he could start small and give you the thing you’d dreamt of even as a little girl.

“Mum—” Harry sighed, knowing he would reject it just like all the other ones she’d picked out for being either, too small, too big, too dangerous, too humanised. He didn’t care about price, he just wanted to get it right. He looked over to her computer, seeing what she’d found and brought up on her screen. “Shit, wait…”

This was it.

“Mhm?” Anne smiled knowingly.

“Give me details.” Harry asked her, pulling over his notepad and pen to jot down key information. He wasn’t planning on buying today, but he was planning on making inquiries so if he thought something needed negotiating then at least he’d have the information to hand.

“Okay, um,” she looked over the screen. Harry had only seen glimpses of the the island from the photos but even now he was fully invested in it, “it’s in Phuket, Thailand. Minimally developed on. 110 acres, but you know…”

“Could lessen due to climate change, yeah.” Harry noted and looked to his mum to see if she was continuing or not.

“They are allowing an income potential so you could build and make profit from it. Then again the island itself is $160 million so it’s going to be 7018 before you even start making a profit.” Anne joked, but Harry sighed. “What, love?”

“$160 million.” Harry pondered, thinking whether this is all worth it. It’s a huge investment and potential waste of money, but it was for you.

“You’re a near billionaire Harry. What else are you going to do with all your money? You could build back half of that money just from releasing a new album with no promotion. Imagine if you released a documentary or something too. You work hard, Harry, and you will continue to, so is it so wrong to treat yourself to something nice?”

“It’s not for me, though.”

“Well then, there’s the question you to need to ask yourself.” Harry looked at his mum quizzically before she responded. “Is Y/N worth it?”

Well that was a stupid question.

“Looks like Y/Ns getting her island after all.” Harry grinned so wide, feeling so happy that he was doing this for you. You deserved this so much. Yes it was a bloody huge investment and risk, if Harry was being honest with himself, but you were ridiculously worth it. So much so that he would have bought the island even if it were double that price. Harry sighed in relief and slouched back on the chair, thinking about how happy you’re going to be when you find out. Obviously there was so much paperwork and calls that needed to be made, so it was going to take some time, but to see your face at the end of this was going to be so worth it.

“Cuppa tea then?” Anne asked, slinking out of the chair and standing up.

“Yeah, go on—” The sounds of rattling keys and the front door opening broke Harry’s sentence, making him look up at his mum in panic. Time had flew by so quickly that he’d not even realised you could’ve actually been home anytime now.

Shit, you were home.

“Quick mum, help me hide all this. Wait mum, you’re going to have to sneak out the back because Y/Ns going to have too many questions otherwise!” Harry shot up from the kitchen table and started to gather bits of paper and close the laptops down. Luckily Harry was using his work laptop and Anne had brought her own so they didn’t have to worry about clearing browser history.

“What and you can’t just say you were hanging out with your ol’ mum?” Anne asked, laughing as she packed up her stuff because she knew just how demanding and stubborn her son was.

“I love you and call me when you get home safely okay?” Harry asked, chivying her out of the back door quietly and pecking her cheeks in thanks for everything she’s done for him today.

“Alright. Love you!”

Okay, act normal Harry.

“Mummy!” You heard Oli shout from the other room. You furrowed your eyebrows as you entered the house, dropping off your shoes and bags at the door before heading into the living room, where you knew you’d find the kids.

“What’s wrong?” You asked, looking around the room to see everything was in order. In fact, your heart melted at the sight of the siblings. Oli was sat upright against the sofa and had his baby sister laying on top of his stomach with hers, and Fix was sat just to the side of them - patting his sisters back rhythmically. It was a sight for sore eyes.

“Baby Belle just smiled.” Oli beamed brightly and you smiled back at him. Even though it was slightly irrelevant of him to shout for you because of this, you couldn’t help but awe over the fact the siblings were so loving for one another.

“Did she now?” You took out your phone to take a few pictures of them. “Smile again for mummy then, all of you.” You giggled as Fix pulled the cheesiest smile and Oli did his signature smile too - no teeth and raised eyebrows so high to the sky. You even caught a golden photo where Belle was slightly smiling too. “Are you okay in here still?”

You didn’t want to feel like you were abandoning your kids, because you would never, but you needed just a day to yourself to rejuvenate and help overcome the post-natal depression slowly. As much as you so very much loved them, it was hard for you sometimes. Belle was going to be sleeping for at least another hour, so you weren’t too worried about her. Oli and Fix were ever so sensible too, simply watching Teen Titans on Cartoon Network whilst they babysat their sister. You were only a shout away if something were to happen, which made you wonder where Harry was.

“Yes mummy.” Fix nodded his head whilst keeping his eyes glued to the TV.

“Everything all right in here?” Harry’s voice came from behind you, but you’r felt his presence a lot sooner before that. He stood behind you, peering into the room to check everything was in order.

God, you’d missed him today.

“Yeah, Oli tell daddy why you called me.”

“Baby Belle smiled daddy!” Oli retold the story just as animatedly as the first time, but keeping as still as he could so not to disturb his sister.

“Did she now? You must’ve made her happy then.” Harry slunk one of his hands around your waist and squeezed the pudge that had situated there. He absolutely loved the way you’d become curvier after giving birth. He said it gave him a bit extra of you to love on, to which you always cried at the words because he never failed to make you feel so beautiful.

“I try daddy.”

“I try too.” Felix added, obviously wanting his dad to know he wasn’t not helping in taking care of Belle.

“Good boys. Proud of you both.” They both smiled after their dads words, “Now you both behave and look after Baby Belle whilst I go make mummy a cup of tea okay?”

“But come back, daddy.” They both replied and you gave them a final warm smile, before making your way to the kitchen to make a warm, milky, beverage.

“Nice day?” Harry asked, following you into the kitchen. His hand was placed lowly on your back and guided you into the room.

“Lovely, thanks. Just missed you all.” You sighed and turned around to kiss him in the middle of the kitchen. Your lips moulded to his perfectly and he tasted so sweet, you probably so sour from your lemonade you’d had earlier.

“Miss you always.” Harry murmured against your lips and then pulled away, not before giving you and extra peck though.

You walked over to the kettle and switched it on, whilst Harry collected the mugs from the cupboard you were too small to reach. He picked out one with the letter H on and one with the letter of your first name on, knowing that you’d drink from each others letters as always.

“Been busy today?” You asked, dropping teabags into the cups and leaning against the counter side as you waited for the kettle to take its’ boil.

“Kinda.” He smirked to himself, trying to dodge that question and any others you might have about the day. “Glad you’re back home though.” He walked to you and cupped the back of your head lightly, guiding your face up to his.

“Thank you for being my home.” You smiled at your cheesy comment and then lead your lips to his again.

“You are a dream, my love.” Harry said, looking deep into the eyes he could fall in love with all over again.

Just as you were about to touch lips with his you heard the wails of your tiny daughter and sighed in sync. You chuckled as you flopped your head onto Harry’s chest. As much as you wanted to stay and soak up all the love he was about to give you, your children were a priority - especially a crying baby.

“Well, your dream will have to wait hun.” You patted his chest before walking out of the room, Harry watching you go before whispering ever-so-carefully under his breath.

“But yours won’t.”

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quirklessidiot · 4 years

Text

Title: filthy rich [1/3] Pairing: millionare!sakusa kiyoomi x y/n [filthy capitalist au] Genre: romance, major angst ahead ,fluff, yandere!au-ish

Synopsis: Your luck had just run out when you realized that you flirted with danger. [400 followers special]

Warnings: language and none...yet….[although i will put a trigger warning that is a controlling, abusive, and kind of a yandere relationship] Notes:

Happy 460 followers i- look, i know i promised a long kita fanfic but i got more inspired to finish this and write this one because djjdjdjd ,,, anyways this was originally a kpop fanfic i wrote years ago and i switched it up to an omi fanfic. I don’t condone this type of relationship, if ya see this shit on your partner, please run (i beg of you)

also eheh the remaining two requests will be posted soon so uwu

next || series masterlist || taglist

“Hey Y/N.”

You look up from your medical textbook to find your aunt standing there with an expensive freshly pressed suit on her hand wrapped in plastic, you had been living with her along with her two younger kids in Tokyo after your parents decided to become humanitarian doctors. Wanting to explore and get out of your comfort zone, you ended up living in the big city along with your mother’s closest friend.

“Oh, hey obaasan.” you greeted, “What’s up?”

“Ah, you see, Shoyo is out now and no one will be able to deliver the suit to Sakusa-san, would you mind doing me a favor and delivering it for me?”

You shut your textbook and stood up from your chair, “Sure, uh- could I have his address?” you ask as you took the suit in plastic carefully from her hands, not wanting to damage something that cost as expensive as your tuition in med school. After saying goodbye to your aunt and carefully placing the suit at the back of your car, you drove your way to the upstate part of the city.

Your second hand car stood out like a sore thumb in the lane of expensive and flashy cars, you wanted to waltz in and out of here quickly. Following your aunt’s instruction’s, you march up to the front desk to hand the suit over to the receptionist, “I’m here to drop the laundry for Sakusa-sa-”

Before you could even finish your sentence, she snatched it away from your grasp. You narrow your eyes at her rather uncouth attitude, “Oh, cool...thanks…” you murmur, not wanting to cause a scene or pick a fight with the rude woman, you made a b-line towards the exit. Away from the judging and prying eyes of the people who were very much above you in terms of class and wealth.

The moment you step out though, you watch in horror as your car is being towed away, “Hey!” you exclaimed, hurriedly going to the worker who was writing something down on his clipboard, “Hey, wait! Please, excuse me?”

The worker turned to you with a questioning gaze as you immediately started to explain that you were in and out of the place and that you were just delivering some laundry but all you got was a shake in the head and the words, “It’s not up to me, that guy called us in.” He points his ballpen towards the man in a suit and paired with a surgical white mask on the phone, “...The parking here is for residents only and clearly you’re not one of them.”

Your eyes almost widened at his explanation, just what was wrong with people who lived here?

You fumingly grab the piece of paper he hands to you and stuff it in your pocket as you march up to the stranger on the phone, “Hey, excuse me!” you proclaimed, there were a few on-lookers but you ignored them, you were seeing red with the treatment you’ve been receiving here. The raven-haired stranger ignores you, still on his phone so you call him out again and when you do, the darkest pair of obsidian eyes are on you.

You clenched your fists tightly as the quote ‘eat the rich’ comes into your head.

“There must be some mistake.” You began slowly, trying to put your anger at bay because you didn’t want the whole thing to escalate in public, “I’m in and out here, all i did was deliver and I didn't know-”

“Your ignorance doesn’t excuse you.”

“Excuse me?”

“Ignorance of the law excuses no one.” He simply states, “Also the car was on the way in my space and not even a parking spot.”

You let out a loud, sardonic laugh, “I’d be gone in two minutes if you waited.”

“You would’ve wasted my two minutes.”

You clenched your fist tightly and as you were about to bite back on his snide remark, the receptionist from before intervenes, “Excuse me, he’s right. You aren’t allowed to park here.” she tries to look professional but you know she’s just siding with this idiot since he had the money.

“Right.” you nod, “You know what, fuck it, this blows. All I did was my job and I have to be shitted on because I don’t have money like Mr.fancy-pants over here.” You bellowed,your glare was intense as you turned around, stomping away before you would do anything you’d regret.

The stranger’s eyes towards you do not waver though, how interesting, he thought.

You never wanted to return to that place again, not only did you lose a lot of money to pay your toll fee for your car but you needed to buy a bunch of new books for the new semester. You groan out loud as you also realize that you needed to do a grocery run since all you had were empty packets of instant Ramen and water in your apartment.

Chunking the cue cards to the side, you made your way to the convenience store, the city was definitely alive tonight and amidst that, you look absolutely dead tired. Your eye bags were getting thicker, a few zits had popped out, and you had grown thin in an unhealthy way because of your food consumption.

Man, being in med school and being dumb wasn’t a very good combination.

Your thoughts are interrupted when your aunt calls you again and says you have to do deliveries tonight, “You remember Sakusa-san?” your aunt says on the other line.

You couldn’t help but grimace at the mention of the man and the memories of where he lived.

Man, did this Sakusa-san needed new neighbors.

“What does he need a suit for in this unholy hour?” You mentally groaned.

“He needs it for laundry, you can have the money when you pick it up.”

Your ears immediately perk up at the mention of cash, you decided to take public transportation since you didn’t want to risk getting your car toll away by that Sakusa guy’s wretched fancy-pants neighbor. Grocery shopping could wait another time, “Stupid rich people.” You muttered under your breath as you pushed open the entrance to find the same man who you despised, sitting there with a laundry basket next to him.

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” You mumbled, sucking in a deep breath, you say, “Sakusa-san?”

“So I was right.” he says, pulling down his mask to reveal his sharp features, “You were the one who delivered my suit that day. It’s usually a young boy with a bike.”

Boy, this man was definitely at his prime, he was probably a good few years older than you and you bet he had the ladies swinging left and right with that face. Too bad he had a shitty attitude though.

“Well, that doesn’t give you an excuse to tow my car away.” you deadpan.

“How much do I owe you for the unfortunate accident then?” his tone was rich and low but you detected no remorse in it, it was as if waving huge chunks of money would help tremendously. The asshole couldn’t even properly say sorry to you because of the hard time you had to go through that time.

“None,” you scoffed, “Just hand me your laundry and pay the fee, we’ll call it even.”

The raven-haired man tilts his head and carefully hands you the laundry bag along with a wad of cash, your eyes immediately widen out of character, “Woah, wait-”

“For the troubles.” He simply replies, “Goodnight.”

You later found out that his full name was Sakusa Kiyoomi and not only was he rich, he was filthy rich. The man used to be a big volleyball player back or something when he was in high school and college but instead of becoming a pro player, he had inherited the family business.

“Huh, so he was a capitalist.” You stare at his picture at the morning paper which was coincidentally an article about him. You decided to forget about it, expecting to not see him after that night since Hinata had no classes or practices these upcoming weeks yet weirdly enough, he started to ask for you to pick up his laundry instead.

So you both fell into a strange routine, you’d pick up his laundry and return it the next day. He was also there to pick up his things and you no longer needed to talk to the rude receptionist. You were suspicious of him yet you decided to just overlook it, he gave good tips and he wasn’t as rude as the first time you met him, in fact, he made small conversations now and you sort of got to know the man.

You had a weird dynamic but strangely enough, it worked.

“L/N-san.”

“Good evening,” You greeted per usual, holding out your hand yet his eyes squinted at the bandage on your hand.

“What happened.” the raven-haired man asked, his gaze zeroing on the wound that you got in one of your classes.

“I’m a med student...I cut myself instead of the cadaver in class.” you shrug nonchalantly as you wiggle your fingers, “It’s alright though, I’m not going to stain your suit that you keep putting back to the laundry for some odd reason.”

“You got hurt.”

“Happens to the best of us.”

Sakusa mutters something incoherent under his breath before saying, “I’ll take you to your car.”

“Woah there-”

The man ignores you as he walks ahead of you, this was certainly getting out of character, even for him who always asked for you, “Open it.” He orders as he points to the car door, you begrudgingly obliged and did as he said. He places the laundry inside and turns to you to give you his usual pay, “Take care of yourself next time, L/N-san.”

The very next day, your aunt hands you an expensive package of ointments on your doorstep. Your brows are furrowed together in confusion as she says that they’re from the millionaire himself. You pointedly look at the package in front of you, completely lost as to why someone like him would send something like this to the person who he wasn’t exactly close with.

“Y/N-saaaaan…” Hinata drowns, you snap your gaze from your notes to the young orange-haired boy, “I’ve got news!”

You had stopped working for your aunt since you found a job at your university’s library, not only were the hours more lax but they even minus some of the tuition as long as you worked there. It was definitely a win-win situation for you.

“What’s up, orange?” You asked.

“Remember Sakusa-san?”

You hum a reply, “What about him?”

“I think he likes you.”

You almost choke on your saliva when you heard that, this little brat, why you ought to-

“He looked really disappointed when I said that you didn’t work for us anymore.” Hinata explains, cutting your thoughts short,

“Right.” You drawl, shaking your head, “Maybe you were just hard to look at, that’s why.”

“Hey!” He clenched his fists together and pouted at your tone, “I don’t even know why he likes you!”

You feel a vein pop in his forehead as you hear his insult, you proceeded to chunk a pillow to his direction in which he successfully dodged, “Get your facts straight and I assure you, he doesn’t like me.” you grumbled, returning to your books.

Ultimately, you thought that you’d never see Sakusa Kiyoomi ever again. It was fairly obvious that outside your job, someone of high caliber as him was someone you’d never see again yet you're immediately thrown off guard when you find him standing there around your campus.

Your eyes widen in surprise, well what do you know? it was the devil himself.

“Sakusa-san.”

“L/N-san.”

Man, you may not have seen him for a month or two but despite wearing the mask, you could tell that e still sported the same blank and basic bitch face behind it. Hinata was wrong in all ways, this guy wouldn’t like you, he’d probably deem you too low class for him, “What a surprise, it’s been a while.” You stiffly bowed down.

“You’re acting weird.”

You raise your gaze to meet his and you could see the glint of amusement in his eyes.

“You’re most likely a guest in the university.” You mumbled, scratching your head, “People might come at me if I treated you as casually as before.”

Sakusa raises his brow, “That’s funny coming from someone who was this close to punching me during our first meeting.”

“You were being a dick that time.”

“How you have guts to say that to my face amazes me every time.”

“Oh yeah?” You chortled, amused by his statement, “I’m starting to think you’ve taken a liking on me.”

“Was it not obvious when I kept asking for you from Hinata-san?”

You immediately choke on the coffee you were sipping, burning your tongue in the process, “Okay what the hell, sakusa-san-” you said in between coughs.

Your freeze up when you look at him dead in the eye, his eyes crinkling, was he smiling behind the mask? No way, the Sakusa Kiyoomi was smiling at you? He pulls down his mask and bends down, making you retract your steps and your cheeks flush to a brightly red color, “You’re turning red.” he points out loud and that makes you turn even redder.

“You’re acting weird.”

“You were getting dense.”

“How was I supposed to know...to know that…” You try to stutter out, completely embarrassed.

“To know what?”

“You know what.” You grumbled, standing up a bit straighter and ignoring his teasing tone, “I’m not interested in you.”

“Your red cheeks say otherwise.”

“It’s the cold weather.” You harshly replied, looking away again, trying to avoid his gaze, “I’m not interested in a boyfriend, a flirting partner, or whatever that is. So good day!”

You immediately stomp away, leaving Sakusa Kiyoomi with an amused smirk. How entertaining and adorable, you looked like a bunny. His cute bunny.

A few days had passed from that little interaction and you wanted to hurl yourself out the window whenever you thought about it. Sakusa Kiyoomi? The filthy rich capitalist Sakusa Kiyoomi? Interested in you? What kind of k-drama was this?

You tried to avoid going out much in the campus, Apparently he was around after he donated half a million to the medicine department.

You immediately groaned out loud at the thought, there was in no way that all this was possible!

“L/N-san.”

You immediately jump on the spot and drop your keys, “Holy fucking-” You pause, biting back your tongue, there he stood sporting a casual attire instead of a business suit and his usual face mask, “Sakusa-san?”

“Kiyoomi.” He smoothly corrects.

“Nice. Very nice.” You dryly replied, “Heard you donated half a million and some new equipment to our department. Sweet.”

“You don’t look that happy.”

“I mean you basically confessed that you were interested then decided to donate to my department only.” You narrow your eyes suspiciously, “You remind me of a sugar daddy.”

“Well,” He shrugged, “You didn’t exactly deny that you wanted one.”

Your brain immediately short-circuits as you try to stutter out a reply, Sakusa looked like he’d been having a field day. Gone was the fiery girl he met a few months ago, he really knew what to say to reduce you to a stuttering mess.

“I’m kidding, L/N-san.” he deadpanned when he realized that you weren’t giving him a straight answer since your mind was jumbled up, “It was purely coincidental, we’ve been eyeing certain medicine departments and yours was performing top-notch. It doesn’t mean that I’m any less interested in taking you out.”

“You do know I’m poor right…” You sweatdrop, “I could easily take advantage of you-”

“One date, L/N-san…” he says, ignoring your very weak argument, “Just one then I’ll let you go.”

You don’t know why but you ended up saying yes that day.

You didn’t know what to expect on your first date and you had your fingers cross the whole time that he wouldn’t take you to an expensive michelin star restaurant since you didn’t have the clothes for the place.

Thankfully, the date was more casual than you expected, it was in his home and he had cooked the meal himself.

“You’re looking oddly relieved.”

“I can’t function well in expensive restaurants.” You sweatdrop, covering your awkwardness with a laugh. You’ve never gone on dates before, the idea of being intimate with someone had made you feel awkward and bothered.

“I’m not a big fan of public areas so I assure you we're not going on those anytime soon.”

“Well aren’t you getting confident.” You raise a brow, teasing him a bit as you start to pick on the beef with your chopsticks.

“Call it a gut feeling, L/N-san.”

“Y/N.”

“What?”

“You asked me to call you Kiyoomi and well,” you turn red once again, “Well it would be awkward if you were all formal with me.”

You saw the small twinkle in his eyes, “Y/N.” your name rolls out of his tongue smoothly and you feel your heart hammering on your chest, “I like that, Y/N…”

It was in that little moment that you realized that you liked it when he called your name.

The dinner went by without a hitch, Sakusa Kiyoomi was not the same arrogant man that the media portrayed him to be. He was quiet, understanding, and soft. Completely the opposite of the first day you met him. He urged you to talk more about yourself, saying how boring and open his life was since the media tailed him a lot.

“Why Tokyo?”

“Why not?” You shrug, swishing the wine before taking a small sip, “It’s a great place, it’s new, and I had someone I knew here. My mom and Obaasan were good friends so I was allowed to move here on my own.”

“Are you coming back to your country if you’re done with your studies?”

You were silent for a moment, “I don’t think so. I wanna be like my parents.”

“A humanitarian doctor, huh?”

“Yeah.” You smile, “A humanitarian doctor. How about you? What’s your story?”

“Nothing interesting.” He glazed, “I’m an open book, Y/N.”

“Open book?” You tilt your head to the side, “You’re usually painted as an asshole by the media…”

“But you don’t believe it.”

“You kinda were when we first met.”

For the first time, you hear his soft chuckle and your heart starts beating fast. You liked that sound, you wanted to hear something like that again, “You always know how to amuse me, Y/N.” he shakes his head, “And for the record, just because I’m not comfortable with touches, public places and whatnot does not make me an asshole...I just am a very private person with interests…”

“What’s your interest now?”

“You.” He replied nonchalantly, making you look away..

“Stop.”

“What?”

“Stop doing that.”

“Doing what?”

“Flirting with me with a straight face like you mean it!” You choke out, turning red.

“Because I do mean it, Y/N.” He shrugs. “I am interested in you.”

It seemed like that little date you had turned out more successful than you thought, one date led to another and another. This went on for a few months until he asked you to be his partner one night at a very random place, you usually pictured Sakusa Kiyoomi to be the smooth type you were, after all, always the stuttering mess between you two but when he asks you to be his officially, outside the public restroom of all places with his ear tips turning red, your reduced to a heaping pile of giggles.

With men like him, you didn’t exactly expect anything more than the dates.

You should’ve known better that he was too good to be true.

general taglist for the next part is open aye

#sakusa kiyoomi x reader #sakusa kiyoomi headcanons #sakusa kiyoomi imagines #sakusa angst #sakusa kiyoomi angst #haikyuu yandere #sakusa x reader #sakusa imagines #yandere!sakusa #yandere warning!!!#haikyuu imagines #haikyu!! fanfics #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu scenarios #haikyuu headcanons #📝📝.Filthy rich series #hostclub.adulting

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preciousthingsareprecious · 3 years

Text

That Time Tim Totally Terminated Ra's Al Ghuls Entire Empire Part 1

So. I wrote something very silly. The title says it all, except it doesn't because this bad boy spiraled out to being over 10k and deserving of 2 chapters. Anyway, here is the first chapter featuring all the times Ra's kidnapped Tim because he wanted to recruit him.

Summary:

"Let us not beat around the bush,” Ra’s started, after taking a sip from his tea, “I have brought you here to make you an offer.” Tim nodded, that was obvious enough. Ra's had no reason to kidnap him this time beyond something like this.

“As you know, I’m always on the lookout for enterprising young individuals with both leadership and fighting experience to join the League of Assassins. Right now I’ve been on the hunt for the perfect person to fill a brand new executive role in a new chapter of my organization.”

AO3 Link

Tim wasn’t entirely sure how he’d ended up in this situation. No really. One moment he’d been in Gotham, crouched behind an old BMW that had been in the same spot for a month, waiting on Batman’s signal, the next he’d woken up in some lavishly decorated room. Was that silk? Or maybe velvet? He had no idea what was hanging around the bed he was laying in, but Tim really didn’t care.

What he was concerned about was his own personal state. He raised his arms --that alone was a good sign-- and confirmed that his mask was in place. He pushed himself up on the ridiculously plush bed, -which was unreasonably plush by the standards of a kid who'd grown up rich, and then gone to live with a guy who had both more money and even better beds.

The point was, the bed was so soft Tim actually had a bit of trouble sitting up.

When he did manage to right himself, he finished taking stock of his own situation and his surroundings. His Robin uniform was intact aside from his belt, but he saw that set on a trunk that looked at least as old as Bruce, a few feet away. The room was, as he already determined, lavishly decorated.

Tim pushed himself out of the bed and onto a carpet so thick he kind of wanted to pull off his shoes and curl his toes in it, but seeing as he still had no idea where he was, who took him, or why, he figured that was probably out of the question. He did make a mental note to ask Bruce for some better carpet when he got home. As a kind of gift for surviving a very weird kidnapping.

Instead, he moved to walk carefully around the room. He found no obvious traps, no cameras or speakers or microphones that were either hidden or out in the open, and both doors were unlocked.

The first he opened revealed a bathroom. The second he cracked open to peer out of. His eyes locked on that of an honest to goodness ninja standing guard outside the door. The man locked eyes with him and Tim snapped the door shut with a click.

Welp, that answered the who and maybe even the where of Tim’s abduction. Ra’s Al Ghul. He was pretty sure if he gave the ninja ten minutes to go find Mr. al Ghul himself, he’d have the why too.

While he waited, Tim snapped his belt back around his waist, comfortable to have its weight back, even if being in a League stronghold meant all the tricks in his pockets were basically useless on his own. Still, it was nice to feel fully like Robin again.

After that it was a matter of waiting.

Tim paced an actual trench into the thick carpet as he waited. Batman was of course looking for him. That was a given, he just had to wait for the man to find him. Or for Ra’s to send him home? He really wasn’t sure why the Eco-terrorist would have taken him in the first place beyond a really weird obsession with Batman's various sidekicks.

How come all of Bruce’s baddies seemed to have a strange fixation on Robins? It was weird how many went out of their way to kidnap and attempt to recruit him, Dick, and if the stories were to be believed, Jason too.

Just as Tim was starting to turn that particular thought over in his head, the door to his room opened and Ra’s himself strolled in.

“Timothy.” the man drawled.

“Ra’s.” Tim replied, suddenly totally and completely unsure what to do with his hands, voice, feet, and general self. This wasn’t a fight after all.

He settled for crossing his arms and being terribly glad his domino hid his eyes.

“I’m sure you’re wondering why I brought you here.” Ra’s said.

Tim shrugged, “It doesn’t take the world’s greatest detective to guess that.”

The man frowned at him, and Tim started to wonder if maybe he should be watching his words a bit. He wasn’t in Gotham with Batman at his back after all. But then again, Ra’s must need something from him right? So a little sass was okay, what was Robin without a smart mouth after all?

“I mean--” Tim started, unable to stop himself now that he was thinking about it, “I can probably start to guess. You didn’t kill me and I’m not in a dungeon so you’ve got to want something from me right? I bet this is some blend of trying to win me over and also hold me above Batman because you--” he paused for a moment trying to remember if Bruce had been on Ra’s’ trail at all lately.

He dropped his arms and clapped, remembering, “You’ve been trying to break into energy and you want Wayne Enterprise to back you and legitimize your business. So you’re holding Tim over Bruce, but you probably want Robin because you and like half of Batman’s rogues have this weird obsession with teen heroes for some reason."

At some point he’d stopped looking at Ra’s and actually started pacing again. When he stopped talking his feet stilled and he looked back up at Ra's and grinned, ""So, am I hot or freezing cold?”

He expected Ra's to looked angry or irritated, instead he looked amused.

“You are quite warm. Though I would contend the assertion that I have a weird obsession with teen heroes. I am only interested in the exceptional, and you Timothy, are exceptional indeed.”

Tim gulped, “I mean--not really? But thanks.”

Ra’s waved him off, “We will speak more later. You are correct, I do intend to use you as a bargaining chip against your guardian--”

“Dad.” Tim interjected.

The man raised an eyebrow but continued, “However you are not a prisoner in the traditional sense. You may wander the compound with one of my men by your side to ensure you do not get into trouble. If all goes well you will be returned to Batman within a reasonable amount of time. Unless, of course, you do decide you would like to stay and learn from me.”

“I don’t really see that happening.” Tim said, “But I'll be sure and let you know if I make a sudden turn towards world domination.”

Again, Tim expected some kind of retaliation, but he was thankfully ignored. Ra’s left him with a warning not to cause undue trouble and soon Tim was alone in the room again.

He spent the next couple days wandering the compound somewhat aimlessly. He had a phone call with Bruce where he promised his dad that he was totally fine if a little bored, and spent the rest of his time trying to avoid Ra’s. The man was kind of relentless in his attempts at winning Tim over to his side and sought him out at meals, when Tim was trying to train a bit at one of the many gyms, and even once while Tim was wandering a rather fantastic garden. Each time, Tim did his best to wiggle out of the man's suggestions and just get back to wiling away the time between then and getting home.

Thankfully, it was all over in four days when Batman came crashing in with Nightwing and Batwoman to rescue him, and soon Tim was home and settling back into normal life.

He’d actually almost forgotten about the whole Ra’s kidnapping him until it happened again. Once had been a surprise, two times was starting to look deliberate.

This one lasted a week with Ra’s claiming it was because he still really wanted that energy deal and he just couldn’t understand why Bruce wasn’t willing to trade that for his ward (son Tim had ground out in irritation).

Tim almost believed him, until he woke one morning to find a pamphlet had been slipped under his door, it was literally a flyer promoting hiring in the League. Tim looked over it and had to laugh out loud. The text was done in a mix of papyrus and other fonts and whoever made it had used clip art. It looked like someone had typed it up in Microsoft word in like half an hour.

He spent the rest of his time there re-designing the flyer, with a ninja hanging over his shoulder as he used one of the League computers. The new one wasn’t the best flyer in the world, but Tim was pretty proud of it, and it was much better than the first draft.

When he was done, he pocketed the original, then pinned a note to the new one that said: Ha! Not until you get better designers.

Batman rescued him again, and Tim pushed the double kidnapping and Ra’s’ weird obsession to the back of his mind until the next time he was with Steph.

They were in the manor watching a Chopped marathon and Tim was telling her about both kidnappings.

“So he’s super into energy? How come he didn’t nab Dick? We all know he’s Bruce’s favorite.” Steph teased, popping a chip into her mouth.

“Setting aside that obvious lie, that’s the thing,” Tim continued, digging out the flyer he’d kept, “It has nothing to do with energy or Dick. I’m pretty sure Ra’s is trying to recruit me.”

He showed her the paper and Steph snorted, spraying chips out as she laughed, “No. Freaking. Way. I have to tell Cass. Let me show her this, please I’m begging you.”

Tim groaned, “Yeah, sure, but don’t you think it’s weird?”

She shrugged, taking the flyer to look it over, “Of course, but the B-man attracts weird like ice cream dropped on the ground attracts ants. Give him six months, and Ra’s will move onto a different way of trying to piss off Batman.”

“I hope so.” Tim said.

The third time Tim woke up in the elaborate room he was getting really sick of the decor and the headache that came with being knocked out and dragged halfway across the world.

“You know.” Tim started, the moment Ra's walked into his room (and it was actually Tim’s room he’d learned from one of the ninja guards), “You could have waited a month this time, to at least pretend this wasn’t all about your super weird plan to try and convince me into letting you adopt me.”

Ra’s opened his mouth to respond, but Tim wasn’t done.

“Which, by the way, I’m taken already. B did the whole adopting thing, so you missed that window. Though, I guess that probably doesn't really matter to you in the grand scheme of things since you keep kidnapping me. You are aware that kidnapping isn’t the best way to convince someone that your way is the right one, right?”

“Also, would it kill you to pick up some --I don’t know-- books on recruitment or something? I don’t understand how you’ve managed to get so many guys on your side it’s--” Tim started, but Ra’s had caught on to Tim’s mood at this point, conceded temporary defeat, and made a hasty retreat.

Tim didn't see him the whole rest of the day, and by the next morning Batman showed up, swinging in for another rescue and all was fine and good and normal for a while.

Until, of course, it wasn’t.

It was the fourth kidnapping that really set Tim off.

He woke up back in that stupid room with it’s stupid decor and those stupid posters ready to burn the place to the ground. But something stopped him, a premonition. Like if he was patient for just a little longer he’d find a good and proper form of revenge to take on Ra’s for his total inability to take a hint.

At some point two ninja came by to take Tim to meet with Ra’s. As they walked Tim couldn’t help but notice the posters literally lining the hallways they walked through.

They were of two wildly different styles, but both struck a thought of familiarity in his mind. One was obviously a play on the classic “I want you in the army” poster. The other ripped off old “pin up” recruitment posters. Both made him laugh, and Tim pulled a couple of each down to save to show the Titans. He had a feeling Bart and Kon would lose their minds over these.

He had just folded them up and shoved them in his back pocket when they reached an office. Inside, Ra’s sat in a chair and motioned Tim to sit in one across from him.

“Thank you for joining me, Timothy.”

Tim sat and shrugged, “Not like I had much of a choice.”

Ra’s waved him off. As he did, a different ninja from either of the ones who’d escorted Tim to the office came in with a tray of tea. He handed Ra’s a cup, then gave one to Tim, and left the set on a table between them.

The whole vibe was kind of awkward and strange. Tim felt very much like he had one time a year ago when he’d realized halfway through a date that things were not going to work out. He hadn’t been able to end the date then and there, and had spent another two hours awkwardly making small talk and trying to avoid promising a second date.

“Let us not beat around the bush,” Ra’s started, after taking a sip from his tea, “I have brought you here to make you an offer.”

Tim nodded, that was obvious enough. Ra's had no reason to kidnap him this time beyond something like this.

Tim took a sip of his tea in an attempt at avoiding having his mouth drop open in shock. Ra’s sounded like something out of a “Executive success seminar” that was just a veiled multilevel marketing scheme.

“To put it plainly, Timothy, I want you to become my apprentice. I know you and assume you might be hesitant to accept this lifestyle so I’ve prepared for you something of a presentation on what that might entail.”

Tim couldn’t stop a laugh from bursting out of him, but he did manage to turn it into a kind of cough.

“Wait--wait.” he said, almost choking on his tea, “Are you about to show me a powerpoint?”

Ra’s looked a bit put out at that suggestion, almost like he wanted to sigh, “Of course not, it’s more interactive than that.”

Tim held up his free hand, incredulous, “Is this--a job interview Ra’s? I thought you were pitching this to me.”

“No, no. It’s an interactive presentation designed to show you just what you have to gain from joining me.” Ra’s explained, as he did so Tim took another sip of his tea.

He lifted his cup and waved it lightly, “Oh yeah, so I’m just in one of those fairy tales then where you make me do three impossible tasks and at the end I get the happily ever after dip in the lazarus pit?”

“It’s only one trial--”

“So it is a task!” Tim declared, almost standing.

“Timothy.” Ra’s snapped, sounding a bit like Bruce whenever Tim and Steph’s antics pushed him a bit too far.

Tim crossed his legs and leaned back into the chair, “Tell me I’m wrong.”

Irritating the man was a bad idea, Tim knew that, but this was just ridiculous. He wasn’t going to be sent on a wild quest that might end up with him dunked in a Lazarus Pit or whatever else Ra’s had in mind that would supposedly prove how great it would be to work for him.

“If you are not going to take this seriously, then there are other ways of showing you why joining me is a good idea that are not nearly as pleasant.” Ra’s growled.

Tim held up his free hand, “I’d rather not find out, give me your pitch or send me off with your best ninja or whatever you were planning.”

He figured playing along would work for now. He could put off giving Ra’s an answer until Bruce came in for a third rescue. When he was home, they were going to have a serious conversation about ninja proofing the manor. Ra’s could not keep kidnapping him like this, they had to have some kind of security measures in place.

“Wonderful. I’m sure after your tour you’ll have a better understanding of what I have to offer you.”

Tim ended up following someone Ra’s called his “best general” around the compound for an hour. The guy showed Tim the training rooms, the medical suite, sparring rings, a variety of ninja’s actually practicing, and at one point they even ended up in the library. The general had been given instructions to pause anywhere Tim wanted him to, and so they lingered in the library for a bit.

He had to admit, Ra’s had a fantastic library.

The general didn’t seem worried about Tim getting lost, or escaping, and waited by the door while he wandered the massive room.

And boy was it huge. It was bigger than the main floor of the cave, with stacks and stacks of books on two floors. Some of the volumes looked ancient, and there were even scrolls shelved on the second floor.

He gingerly pulled one out to examine.

“That is worth more than you could ever imagine.” a sharp, young voice, declared, behind him.

Startled, Tim dropped it back onto the shelf and spun. Before him stood a kid, probably 8 years old, with tousled dark hair, dark skin, and a face that almost echoed some of Bruce’s school photos. It was startling.

“Hi.” Tim said, dumbly, “I know, it’s Ancient Sumarian right?”

“Tt.” the boy crossed his arms, “You are not an idiot then.”

Tim shook his head, “Nah, apparently I’m smart enough to be selected for recruitment.”

The kid nodded, “So you are Grandfather’s young detective. He speaks highly of you.”

Grandfather? Tim’s brain spun. This kid was Ra’s al Ghul’s grandkid? He ran the numbers, the kid’s mom was either Talia or Nyssa. If he had to put money on it, Tim figured the boy before him looked more like Talia than her sister. And his other features--like Bruce’s?

No.

No. Freaking. Way.

“That is hardly language to use here.” The boy said, arching an eyebrow at him.

Tim hadn’t realized he’d spoken aloud, but apparently his surprise had been so great he had. He cleared his throat, “Sorry, I just never expected Ra’s to have a grandkid.”

“It is not surprising to me, I am his heir. Born to inherit the League and rule the world one day.”

Okay, that was a lot to unpack. Just a totally wild amount, but Tim wasn’t super focused on the world domination thing just yet (maybe later when he had a chance to process all of--well, all of it), “Sorry to keep pressing but, doesn’t having an heir kind of--I don’t know, put his whole Eternal Ruler of the League thing in jeopardy?”

“Tt. It is not my place to question my Grandfather’s plans. I simply know what I have been told, that I will inherit the League one day in his stead.”

“Well,” Tim rocked back on his heels casually and grinned, “That might be a long loooong time.”

The kid’s brows furrowed as if he had not really considered that idea before. He opened his mouth to say something else, but seemed to decide against it, dropping his arms to his sides to shrug, “If that is his wish then so be it.”

“True.” Tim said, not really knowing what to say. Instead he settled on changing the subject, “You know, if your grandfather gets his way I’ll be spending more time here, so I guess introductions are in order. I’m Timothy Drake-Wayne, but most people just call me Tim.”

He held his hand out to the kid, smiling at him. If he really was Bruce’s then they’d be getting to know each other for sure. Just not here. Tim had zero intentions on letting Bruce’s child stay with the League. Did B he even know he had a kid? Tim thought he’d better figure that out first before kidnapping his little brother.

Little brother. Just that idea made something flutter in Tim’s chest. He’d always wanted a little brother.

The boy scowled at his hand, and did not take it, “You may be correct, even if I do not see what Grandfather seems to. I am Damian al Ghul, heir to the Demon’s Head.”

Tim bit back a grin at just how serious this kid was. He sounded like a little prince, all imperious and haughty. Damian, even his name fit him. He wondered how Damian would do around Dick? Or Stephanie. They’d figure out how to bring a smile out of him.

“It is a pleasure to meet you, Damian.” Tim said, “I know we’ve really only just met, but I’m sure you’ll see what Ra’s does in time.”

Damian looked him over again, then gave a sharp nod, “I am interested in seeing what you have to offer.”

“Damian, I found it, where’d you go?” A voice sounded from deeper within the stacks.

Tim started at the sound of the voice. He knew it. Knew it from nights spent chasing shadows, from recording’s Bruce had watched a hundred times when he didn’t think Tim was watching. From Tim’s own desire to know and learn more about his predecessor. It was Jason Todd’s voice.

But that couldn’t be. Jason was dead.

“I am coming.” Damian returned, his tone more childlike than Tim had heard in their whole conversation. He turned back to Tim, “Do not ruin that scroll, I will see you later.”

Then he spun on his heel and walked away.

Tim stepped forward, reaching out for the kid, “Wai--”

“Master Tim, we really must be going.” Tim’s guide was back, stepping into his view as if from nowhere, and stopping Tim’s chase as short as it had been.

“Can we wait just one more second?” he asked, “I wanted to ask Damian something else.”

The man’s mouth turned down in a frown, “I do not have clearance to let you speak with Master Damian. Come, we have more to see.”

Frustration bubbled up in Tim, but unless he wanted to start a fight he wasn’t going to get a chance to talk to Damian right then. The kid had promised to see him later, so maybe he’d seek Tim out. If not, Tim would find a way.

As he followed the man out of the library, he kept searching the stacks of books for a sign of the others. It wasn’t until they’d left the room that Tim caught sight of Damian again, his small form waving animated at a taller, broader one. One that, while older, was unmistakably Jason.

Before Tim could say screw everything, the two turned around a corner, and someone else was clearing their throat. His guide seemed eager to move on, and so they did.

Tim tuned out most of the rest of the tour, and eventually found himself back in the office from before, once again seated across from Ra’s.

“Timothy, I hear you have met my grandson on your tour.” Ra’s started.

“I did.” Tim said, a bit hesitant to go into detail, his guide had seemed like talking to Damian was a pretty serious thing, and suddenly Tim was afraid he’d gotten the kid in trouble.

Ra’s smiled, “He is magnificent is he not? Already he is a skilled warrior, and well trained in his studies.”

“He said he was your heir?” Tim ventured.

The man waved a hand dismissively, “Of course he is, he is my grandson, but that does not mean he will inherit. The boy is valuable to me, for many reasons. He is an excellent tool to wield against my enemies already, and will only become more so as he grows.”

Anger bubbled up in Tim. There was something in Ra’s’ tone that made Tim sick, to call a kid a tool. To plan to just use him his whole life?

“And what, do you want to do that with me too? You said you wanted me to be your apprentice, but if your Heir is just a tool then--”

“No, as I said I want you to take over a branch of the League. You have talents and skills Damian will not. The boy is--” Ra’s shrugged, “Let us call him a vessel. A shell for me to wield in one way or another.”

Well, that just made Tim even more angry. Damian was his grandkid. What Tim wouldn't have given to still have his grandparents, and for Ra’s to just--If Tim wasn’t already dead set on getting Damian home, he would be after this conversation.

“You know what, Ra’s. Let me think on it a while. I’ll get back to you on my answer. I kind of want to see Damian in action a bit, learn what this training looks like in someone closer to my age.”

The man considered this for a moment before nodding, “I will let you watch his sparring session tomorrow. For now, I think we’re done. Have a good evening, Timothy.”

Tim nodded, and left. His mind was racing, he wanted another look at Jason. Wanted to tell Damian about his dad. Wanted to make sure both his brothers were okay.

He was so wrapped up in his thoughts, he missed the black and blue clad arm that reached out from behind a curtain and yanked him back. Nightwing put a hand over Tim’s mouth to quiet him, and then pulled him out the window the curtain had been hiding. They dropped, into nothing--except it was solid?

Tim found himself inside the invisible jet. Inside, and flying away from his newly discovered siblings before he could even argue they needed to be rescued too.

One flight with Wonder Woman and Nightwing later, and Tim was home again, being told in stern tones by both Batman and Nightwing that he really needed to stop allowing himself to be kidnapped by ninjas (like he didn’t know that).

Then he was in his room, in bed, staring up at the ceiling, his mind whirring. He had learned two things on this trip. Two impossible things. Two things he was going to leverage as soon as he could.

It was late, and he should be sleeping, but instead he texted Steph and Cass in their little group chat.

Tim: Want to cause some chaos?

Immediately he received a response:

Steph: Always

Cass: Who are we going after?

Tim smiled, his fingers dancing over his phone:

Tim: Ra’s.

Cass: Time to teach him a lesson?

Steph: I've been waiting for this, I’ll get the kerosene

Tim: There’s more.

Cass: Tell.

The light flashed on out in the hallway, Tim could see it flicker to life under his door.

Tim: Tomorrow, lunch at that place with the sweet potato fries. Come ready to plan a kidnapping or two.

The next day Tim found both Steph and Cass waiting eagerly for him at the restaurant, a heaping plate of sweet potato fries between them.

“Spill, Bird Brain.” Stephanie said, as he sat down, pushing some fries towards him, “I want to hear everything about this crusade against Ra’s.”

Tim rolled his eyes, and snagged a fry, dipping it in one of the sauces they’d gotten to accompany it.

“As you’ve probably already guessed, I had another visit to the League compound yesterday.” Tim started, “It was more of a day trip this time, but Ra’s did his very best to sell me on signing up.”

“More posters?” Cass guessed, then shook her head seeing Tim’s expression, “What did he do?”

Tim snagged another fry, “Yes more posters, but more than that he gave me a speech right out of a How to Recruit for Dummies book, then sent me on a tour of the building.”

Steph snorted, “Please tell me you recorded it.”

“I did not, but you will never believe what I found on my tour, or to be precise who.”

Both girls paused their snacking, waiting on him to continue.

Tim dropped the first bomb, “Jason Todd, alive and breathing.”

“What, no way.” Steph said, “How’d he even get there? I thought He was buried here?”

He shrugged, “I don’t have any of the details, but they’ve got a Lazarus pit, and Ra’s is weirdly obsessed with recruiting Robin’s, so I’d say his resurrection tracks.”

“Who else was there?” Cass asked, brow furrowed.

Now this he knew neither of them would be expecting. Tim hadn’t expected it. He still couldn’t believe it.

“Ra’s al Ghul’s grandson, Damian.” Tim said, watched both girls look even more confused, then added, “The son of Bruce and Talia. At least, I’m pretty sure he’s their kid.”

The fry Stephanie was holding dropped out of her hand.

Tim watched Cass processing the information, saw her realization that there was another child being raised in the League, then saw the determination cross her face at her own personal decision.

“We are taking them both, correct?” Cass asked.

“We’re taking them both, and burning the place down.” Tim confirmed, “That should properly pay him back for all the time’s he’s kidnapped me this year.”

Steph’s lips turned up into a sharp grin, “The law of equivalent exchange.”

Tim laughed, “You’ve been watching too much tv.”

“It’s prepped me for this very moment.” she shot back, voice falsely grave.

“Batman prepared you for this very moment.” Cass elbowed her.

“No.” Tim said, “I’m going to prep you. And then we’re going to put everything in action.”

They talked, and planned, and debated the pros and cons of letting Tim get nabbed again over just going himself, and eventually after many many sweet potato fries and sodas they were ready.

It was to be infiltration first, fire and kerosene second. Obviously the place was going to go up, but only after they set the stage for rebellion and convinced Damian and Jason to go home with them. Tim didn’t think it’d be a hard sell for Jason, but the kid was another matter altogether. If Tim couldn’t convince him to come along, they may actually end up having to kidnap Damian.

A key to the plan was that only Tim, Steph, and Cass were in on it. There was no way Bruce was giving the green light for such a thing. Besides, Tim wanted to see his face when they presented him with not one, but two, rescued sons from the League.

Over the next week Tim made himself the most kidnappable he’d ever been. He wandered outside, kept to himself, and tried to look as wide eyed as possible. He lingered in parking lots, and took shortcuts down empty alleyways. Basically, he did everything he could to signal he was alone and vulnerable besides hanging a sign around his neck that said “Take me to your (ninja) leader”.

At one point he even stopped, dead center in the middle of an alley and declared, “Wow this sure is a dangerous place to be! I hope I don’t get attacked and kidnapped by ninjas!”

The only response he got that time was from an older woman who stopped at the edge of the alley and very seriously called out, “Careful, young man. Don’t you know there are killer clowns out? You best be on your way before you get hurt.”

Then, at long last, Tim caught sight of one of the League members ducking behind a shadow. He paused his walk, and leaned over as if fascinated by something on the sidewalk in front of him. By the time he’d stood, the ninja was in front of him.

Tim held up his hands in surrender, doing his best not to actually look excited. Then, he was successfully kidnapped for the fifth --and if Tim’s plan worked successfully-- final time.

#Tim Drake #Damian Wayne #Stephanie Brown #Cassandra Cain #Batfamily #fanfiction #crack #crack treated seriously #multimedia fic #humor #kidnapping attempts #revenge plots #Ra's tries to recruit tim #Spoilers it backfires #what is canon #precious posts #long post #chapter 1

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sevlgi · 3 years

Text

aphrodisiac

requested: no

group: twice

pairing: mina x fem!reader

genre: fluff, extremely mild and short angst

contents: witch!mina, love potions, college!au

warnings: none

synopsis: You’re broke and desperate, so you don’t think twice before taking a love potion that’ll make you fall in love with a mysteriously perfect girl. But maybe you should.

a/n: hehe i like the idea of this!! i’m just not sure how well i executed it 🤔 happy valentines day, my loves ❤

word count: 6.0k

While everyone knew that working the 9-12 weekday shift at the campus bookstore was the worst job you could possibly get, you didn’t feel quite as exhilarated to have been laid off as you should have.

As the one who had suffered at the hand of old Mrs. Lee for almost the entire duration of your time on campus, you knew the torture better than most. So it was an understatement to say that you were exhilarated to be free of ironing book pages out and restocking the shelves at Mrs. Lee’s whims, that you were practically beaming when you got the email.

But on the other hand, it wasn’t like you had much money to spare, or like you had the ability to find another job in the crowded university. When you felt your wallet in your back pocket, completely empty save for a couple crinkled receipts, the grin faded from your face; after all, it would be even harder to survive without the aid of your measly salary.

So as you pinched together a couple quarters to buy yourself a consolatory iced chocolate, you found that being let go from the shittiest job in the world didn’t feel as triumphant as you had expected. Not when you were, once again, scouring the papers stabled to the lightposts around the campus for anything that offered a quick paycheck.

Well, almost anything.

“I will not.”

“Why?” Lisa was close to whining, though the pout that she directed fully at you did her no favors. “You said you needed to get paid.”

You sighed, “I said i needed to get paid, not launched in the air like a damn cannonball.”

Lisa scowled and tapped her fingers on her face, her hands still cupping her chin as she attempted to convince you. “Come on, the dance team’s willing to pay. It costs less to pay you than to get a dummy, so--”

“That’s not helping to convince me,” you warned. As desperate as you were, and as much as you liked Lisa and her fellow dancers, you definitely didn’t trust them not to launch you in the air and break your neck. “Are you sure that you don’t know about any other job offers? Anything that won’t murder me?”

She considered it, chewing on her bottom lip. You could feel other students eyeing where you sat, one of the only seats in the incredibly tiny boba shop, but you refused to budge until Lisa gave you an answer. “Oh! There is one I can think of, actually. You know the bio lab?”

“Yeah.” You watched her suspiciously, arms crossed. “I’ve been there a couple times. Why?”

“Well, it isn’t a normal bio lab,” Lisa mumbled, leaning in as if what she was about to tell you was the greatest secret in the world. “A lot of them are witches, you know.”

It wasn’t like you didn’t believe in witches, or the supernatural-- both had been proven to be true eons ago, and almost half of the students attending your university weren’t completely human. But you were still a little skeptical that the pretty and equally brilliant girls who ran the campus’s bio lab were... “Witches? Are you sure?”

“Why would I be lying?” Lisa rolled her eyes. “I’m friends with a couple of them, and I know that they’re doing an... experiment of sorts, and they need--”

“Lab rats,” you finished for the dancer. In all rationality, being a lab rat for a couple of young witches with access to a high-tech lab was probably worse than getting launched up in the air by a dance team, but when Lisa slid a flyer over and your eyes widened at the offered money, you instantly stood. “Take me.”

Lisa pouted but stood anyway, taking the flyer back to squint at the tiny scribbled building number. “I can’t believe you trust Mina more than you trust me.”

“Mina? Is that the name of the ‘witch’ I’m selling myself to?” you asked, slightly sarcastic but also slightly curious. At the dancer’s nod, you exhaled lightly and shoved your seat in just to watch the next people scramble for it, and hummed on your way out, “Then let’s meet this Mina.”

Maybe it had something to do with the fact that your entire school was close to dilapidated, but something about the bio lab was almost creepy as you approached it. Lisa had long since set off for the dance room (something about Seulgi breaking Ten’s ankle, she claimed), so you hesitated in front of the cloudy glass door alone. But the thought of the $600 dollars scrawled onto the flyer scrunched in your fist prompted you to push the doors open and step into the lab.

There was already a decent amount of people buzzing around inside; you recognized quite a few of them and nearly laughed at the amount of students willing to possibly be poisoned. But you took the nearest empty seat as someone appeared at the front of the room.

“Wow, this is a great turnout.”

The crowd chuckled lightly, and your eyes nearly bugged out at the sight of the girl standing at the front with papers in her hands. Honestly, she was the kind of girl that you imagined people wrote love songs about-- absolutely perfect without having to really do anything, elegant and soft in a way that still stood out. She smiled slightly and waved, eyes darting around the room. “Hi. I’m Mina, I’m part of the coven that sent out the flyers.”

You joined in the chorus of greetings, but your eyes stayed fixed on Mina at the front of the room. You could see several other girls lurking around in the shadows, probably the other members, though they kept beckoning Mina to speak on her own. “Um, I’ll just... explain the project to you,” she chuckled nervously, darting over to the computer.

Once a slide was displayed on the wall, she rushed back to the front and explained, “Being a potions-focused coven and also biology majors, we wanted to conduct an experiment. A love potion, or an aphrodisiac in scientific terms.”

Murmurs arose around you, and even your eyebrows scrunched together; as far as you knew, aphrodisiacs weren’t real, and if they were, they were probably illegal. In response, Mina raised her hands and her voice slightly to call out, “Hey, hey. It’s an experiment. We were originally planning to accept all of you, but... I think it’ll be hard to conduct an experiment with 50 people, so please fill out the form we pass out.”

And like that, Mina joined the rest of her friends in passing out the clipboards. You didn’t watch them, only scanned the lab for any signs that you were about to die, so when you were tapped on the shoulder, you almost fell off your stool. It was Mina herself, a slight pink tinting her pale skin as she held out one of the forms to you. “Uh. Thanks.” You accepted it with a bow of your head, staring down at the paper. It looked legitimate, with areas for your age, your height--

“What’s your name?”

In your haste to read over the paper, you hadn’t noticed that Mina hadn’t left. When you looked back up, you could feel heat burning at the tops of your ears, and you answered, “Y/N. Y/N Y/L/N, though you’ll read it on my application.”

“Oh. Of course. Thanks for coming, Y/N,” Mina mumbled, bowing before moving on to someone else. You noted that she didn’t ask for the name of anyone else, but you passed it off and turned back to the form. Since when did becoming a coven’s lab rat require your blood type, anyway?

After nearly a week, you had almost given up on being accepted into the experiment. But just 5 days after turning your form in, you got the text.

Unknown number [4:57] Is this Y/N Y/L/N? My name is Mina, we met at the bio lab last week. I’m texting to tell you that you got accepted into the program; we’re meeting at the lab again at 9:00 tonight to discuss the experiment further.

You [5:00] yeah, it’s me. i’ll be there.

It wasn’t like what you wore to the meeting mattered; all you were doing was being briefed on exactly what was about to happen to you. But all through your classes of the day, through your futile studying, you couldn’t keep your mind off the experiment that you had somehow been accepted into, and whether it was a good idea to go at all.

Suffice to say, you went.

“Y/N?” the girl at the entrance of the lab asked. You recognized her from the week before-- dark hair, bunny-toothed smile. “You are Y/N, right?”

“Yeah,” you answered, shifting your weight from one foot to the other. “Why?”

“Oh, nothing,” she smiled. “We’re just taking roll, making sure everyone’s here. Take a seat inside, if you will.”

You obliged, nodding awkwardly before brushing past her. To your relief, the lab was nowhere as packed as it had been the week before, 7 people including yourself seated on the stools as the girls fiddled with test tubes in the back. One pair of eyes in particular lingered on you, before Mina was pulled back to talk, but your cheeks warmed nonetheless.

“Okay, everyone!” someone else announced, clapping her hands together. “My name’s Jihyo, I’m the head of the coven. This is Nayeon” -- the bunny-toothed girl from earlier waved-- “and Mina. We’ll be explaining the experiment to you today.”

She pulled the projector down and Nayeon stepped up, flashing a grin at all of you. “Basically, we made an aphrodisiac. And to test it, we’ll have all of you do the exact same things with the exact same person-- Mina.”

Mina stepped forward this time, and you couldn’t help smiling at the shy smile that tugged at her lips. “To keep conditions equal, you’ll all be going on the exact same 2 dates with me,” she explained. “I’ll take notes on how you act around me, and we’ll test how you feel about me at the very end. Any questions?”

The room was basically silent and honestly, you couldn’t see a downside to it either. Take a potion once and go on dates with a pretty girl, then get observed like a hamster on its wheel so you could get paid? A million times better than your old job. “Great,” Jihyo nodded. “Then, we’ll get started. If Y/N could be the first one? You’ll just go into a room with Mina to get interviewed and take your first dose.”

“Don’t die,” someone called out as you passed, and you flashed a glare despite not knowing who it was. Nayeon giggled as she opened the door for you and closed it behind you, leaving you in what you assumed to be a supply closet. Romantic.

“Hi,” Mina greeted softly, already seated across the table. “I’ll just ask you a series of questions, if that’s okay.”

“Go for it.”

“Rate how attracted you are to me on a scale from 1 to 10.”

Your jaw dropped immediately; for the first question, it was awfully invasive, especially when Mina voiced it with such a straight face. But you straightened your spine and answered stiffly, “9.”

It should’ve been 10, but you weren’t trying to look like a literal creep; Mina only hummed and marked a circle on her form, moving on to ask, “Are you considering dating anyone else at the moment?”

“No.”

And in that manner, the questions passed decently quickly, with Mina asking them as flatly as possible and you answering them with the exact same tone. As soon as she set the clipboard aside, though, she returned to her original sweet state. “I’ll just have you swallow this now, if that’s okay.”

The test tube was cold to the touch when you uncapped it, and the liquid inside was suspiciously clear. But you barely gave it a passing glance before downing it like a shot, asking with narrowed eyes, “Is it supposed to taste like nothing?”

“Well, we figured that not everyone would like to taste tequila once a week with none of the good effects,” Mina chuckled and placed the empty test tube in its place.

“How fast will I see results?” you questioned as you stood. “Like, am I gonna wake up in a cold sweat tonight because I can’t handle how much I suddenly love you?”

The girl shook her head, though it was a bit hesitant. “I don’t believe so. It should only become more prominent once you see me more often. Which reminds me, I’ll text you about our first date as soon as I can. Thank you for participating, Y/N.”

You snatched your jacket up and stumbled your way out of the room as quickly as you could, hoping no one was looking as you closed the door behind you with a quivering pulse.

Despite the witch’s words, you were sure that the potion was already taking effect. Why else would your heart start to throb terribly as you looked at her smile?

mina [8:16] Hello Y/N! I was wondering if you had class today?

Mouth full of cheap cup ramen noodles, you stared at your phone screen. If Mina was asking you about your schedule, she had to have something planned (for the experiment, of course. You weren’t delusional). And you weren’t sure if you were mentally ready to see her shy smile again.

But when the thought of the $600 dollar check popped into your head, you reached for your phone and started to type again.

You [8:19] hey, mina. i don’t have class, actually, is this something about the experiment?

mina [8:20] Yes! If possible, please meet me at the front of the school, we’ll be visiting the food trucks at the beach. I’ll pay!

Your stomach growled at the thought of the renowned food trucks at the beach by your university, and you typed out a hasty agreement before stuffing your phone into your bag and setting off for your apartment. There was no way you were enjoying such an opportunity for good food (and perfect company) in a slightly ramen-stained hoodie.

Thankfully, Mina didn’t seem to mind you being late when you approached her. “Hi, Y/N,” she smiled and hitched her bag higher up her shoulder. “I’m glad to see you.”

“Hi,” you breathed. Well, at least you tried to-- you could barely remember how to function when faced with Mina in a slightly cropped red top, her hair tied up in a little ponytail. But you followed her down the street well enough, towards where you vaguely remembered a fleet of various food trucks to be. “So, have you already conducted this part of the experiment with everyone else?”

Mina shook her head and answered, “No, you’re the first. You took the dose first, so you’ll be a bit like the guinea pig within guinea pigs.”

You snickered at that, nearly tripping over one of the raised cracks in the ground. Sure, the way down the hill to the beach wasn’t the safest one ever, but at least it was convenient for conducting test dates. “The lab rat. You know, this doesn’t seem remotely like a scientific experiment.”

“What do you mean?” the other girl asked, eyes on yours.

Coughing, you looked away from her gaze, though you could feel her still staring at the back of your head. “I mean... it’s not exactly normal for 7 people to drink a potion that tastes like nothing, then go on dates with a pretty girl and treat that as testing.”

“You think I’m pretty?”

“That’s what you got from my whole spiel?” you sighed in disbelief, turning to look at Mina. She laughed, gums showing slightly and her eyes twinkling, and you were forced to turn to the front yet again. “Whatever. Which trucks are we raiding first?”

And as it turned out, Mina was... generous. You were tempted to ask how she was going to keep herself from going broke if she bought that much food for everyone, but watching her bring yet another load of snacks over to where you sat on the wall, you weren’t sure if she cared too much. “Hey. Are you gonna pay for every date?”

“Hm?” She looked up from her Americano and considered the question. “Well, yes? I mean, we planned for the second date next week to be the fair, and I wouldn’t want any college student to have to pay for those overpriced tickets.”

“Aren’t you a college student?”

Mina hummed lightly and dug into her ice cream, sucking thoughtfully on the spoon. “Well, my parents are... well off? I’d like to put it that way, at least. And I think that when I can, I’ll use that to make others happy. Or to further our coven’s experiments.”

“Rich family,” you observed. “Cool.” To be honest, you didn’t really care about how much money anyone’s family made, but it was nice to have all that food paid for. After all, the sheer amount of things Mina bought could’ve covered several months worth of the finest ramen that the restaurants around campus could’ve offered. “Then why’d you end up going to college here with us normal people?”

She raised an eyebrow jokingly and gathered her knees to her chest. “Am I not a normal person anymore?” When you opened your mouth, slightly sheepishly, she giggled and waved a hand, answering, “I ended up choosing this college because my best friends came here. We’re all Japanese, and Sana wanted to come to Korea, so Momo and I just came along for the ride.”

“Ah.” You turned to watch the sky, the sun melting golden into the surface of the waves just a couple dozen feet away. You understood why it was called golden hour as you watched bright yellow rays flicker in Mina’s eyes and glow in her hair, and you had to resist the urge to pull out a camera and capture the feeling of a first date, as much of an experiment as it was. “Makes sense. Then-- how’d you find your coven? I don’t remember a Momo or a Sana.”

“Our coven is a bit... unconventional,” Mina nodded. “It’s just me, Nayeon, and Jihyo. You know that most covens form as children, and they train together, but we only met in college. See, none of us had our own coven, so it was natural that we came together. Momo and Sana aren’t witches, or we should’ve been together.”

You nodded in silence, prompting her to go on. And she did, a soft smile pressing her lips against her teeth as she thought about the girls eh seemed to consider her friends, or her family. “And, well, none of the three of us have had great luck finding someone to love. Or, to love us,” Mina added as an afterthought. “A love potion was just the first thing we fixated on.”

“Finding someone to love you?” you repeated, hand pressed up against your cheek. “I don’t mean that I don’t believe you, but it’s kind of hard to imagine that it’s difficult to find someone to love you. You’re pretty great, Mina.”

She laughed, “I’m glad you think so. But there’s a reason why we chose me as the one to test the potion with.”

“Oh yeah? And what’s that?”

Mina looked you right in the eyes, a kind of softness swirling in the brown of her own eyes, and responded equally quietly, “We chose me because we thought I was the hardest to fall in love with.”

“Bullshit,” you responded instantly, heat rising to your ears immediately after. But thankfully, the Japanese girl only looked endeared, and you continued, “I mean, I don’t know if this is just the potion talking, but you’re awesome. I... I think I’d like you even if I wasn’t part of this damn experiment.”

She blushed, the hue of her cheeks matching the pink clouds in the sky. “Well, I think you’re exaggerating on that. But it’s not them, I just volunteered myself. I think people just misunderstand me, you know? It’s hard to find the right person for you when you don’t let people see you. And-- I don’t even know why I’m telling you this. On a first date, too.”

“Hey.” When she looked away from you, you reached over to squeeze her hand. Mina didn’t look back up to you, but you knew she was listening from the way she chewed at her bottom lip. “It’s okay. I know what you’re saying. And I can’t say I know you yet, but I can say I wouldn’t mind knowing you. I’d like it, even.”

Mina laughed, barely loud enough for you to hear, and squeezed your hand. “Thank you, Y/N. I think we should finish our food before it gets cold.”

“Oh, yeah.” You let go to reach for one of the many desserts displayed in front of you, barely fazed by the topic change. “Wouldn’t want your parents’ money to go to waste.”

“Please let that go,” she whined.

“Not a chance,” you winked in response, laughing at her pout. “Not. A. Chance.”

“Lili, I think I’m done for.”

“Like, literally?” Lisa asked mindlessly, receiving a light hit on the head in response. “Ow, what was that for?”

You whined, “This isn’t funny. I can feel myself falling, and there’s no cushion underneath me for me to fall onto.”

The dancer rolled her eyes and reached for her milk tea. “Okay, Miss Overdramatic. You know falling doesn’t work like that, no one’s kicking you off a cliff. Especially not Myoui Mina.”

“I’m not being kicked off, I’m sliding.” You made the motions with your hand, a despondent expression on your face as you scowled, “I’m slipping through a puddle of aphrodisiac, that’s what, and Mina poured it at my feet.”

“Okay, enough with the metaphors, I’m not an English major,” Lisa sighed. She tossed a chip at your face, as if being smeared with salt and oil would wake you up from your Mina-induced trance. “You’ve gone on one date with her and spoken to her approximately twice, I think you aren’t falling just yet.”

“Did you forget the part where I’m drugged to fall in love with her?” you deadpanned.

Lisa paused at that. “Okay, I did forget that. Then what? There’s an explanation as to why you’re feeling this way, and there’s a way to get rid of it. Once you get your paycheck, you just stay away from Mina, should be easy enough, since you never met her before this. And you wait for the potion to wear off.”

“Does it wear off?” you groaned into your hands.

“Did you never ask?” Lisa asked in disbelief. “Wow, Y/N, ever heard of fine print?”

You smacked her with your rolled-up notes yet again. “Shut up. But I have a date with her tomorrow, and I don’t know what to do. I’m feeling like this because of the potion, sure, but I’m still feeling like this! And Mina has 6 other people vying for her now, all under the same effect as me. And it feels... bad.”

“Eloquent,” your friend sighed. “Then I have the perfect solution for you. Don’t go on the second date.”

“I need the money,” you shook your head. “Gimme another one.”

Lisa considered it, sucked on her straw as she did, until she shook her head. “I got nothing. All I can tell you is to enjoy it while it lasts, then just... wait. And if it doesn’t wear off, Jisoo unnie’s studying law.”

As horrible as her suggestions were, you could admit that you felt the slightest bit more assured. In the worst case scenario, you could sue Mina for winning your heart, and in the best, the somehow blissful stabs at your heart would be alleviated soon enough.

As it turned out, you got a chauffer to the fair. Not an actual one, of course-- it was just Jeongyeon, introduced as one of Mina’s friends who could actually drive.

You really weren’t intending to talk to her at first. She was quiet, too, didn’t even turn on the radio once she started driving, but when something that Mina said crossed your mind, you had to speak up. “Hey, Jeongyeon. Can I ask you something? About Mina?”

“Shoot,” she answered simply, keeping her eyes on the road.

“Do you think Mina’s hard to fall in love with?”

Jeongyeon glanced at you at that, her expression slightly quizzical. “What do you mean?”

“She said something yesterday,” you explained. “Mina said that they chose her for the experiment because they thought she was the hardest to fell in love with. She said-- something about being misunderstood?”

The older girl nodded in understanding at that and blew her hair out of her face. After a short pause, she sighed, “I think that’s more of what she thinks than the rest of us. Mina... she thinks she’s unapproachable, you know. She doesn’t open up easily, so I’m surprised she told you that at all. But... she’s been hurt several times, and a lot of people think she’s mean or something similarly stupid just because she’s quiet. That’s all.”

“Oh.” You wet your lips and looked forward to the road, where you could see the fair’s Ferris Wheel already in the distance. “I see.”

And that was that. The two of you fell back into silence, and as comfortable as it was, it only gave you more time to think about what you wanted to say.

Maybe you could see why they would choose the girl who thought of herself as unapproachable and quiet to be the test, but they also didn’t seem to think about the obvious warm color to Mina that she presented. She was quiet, sure, but she was sweet, kind... there was plenty to fall in love with, and even if there wasn’t magic coursing through your system, you thought that you could’ve fallen in love with her anyway.

After bidding goodbye to Jeongyeon at the entrance, you found Mina waiting for you by the fair entrance. “Y/N!” she called out, though her voice still wasn’t loud. You could’ve spotted her anywhere anyway, and made your way over. “You’re a bit early.”

“You were earlier,” you smiled. “So. Are we ready to go in?”

“Absolutely.” Mina linked her arm in yours slightly hesitantly and surprised the both of you, but you took it in stride and swung your arm slightly to bring a smile to her face. “I’ll get our tickets, you get in line.”

“I can pay for myself,” you protested, but she waved you off. “...Okay then.”

The fair was loud, a bit too loud to hear Mina’s voice if she talked normally, so you found yourself leaning in every time she spoke. You really didn’t mind it either, feeling her words tickle your ears-- maybe it was closer than you should’ve been comfortable with, but there was a certain adrenaline pumping in your blood that you weren’t really used to. So you continued on, fed cotton candy to her despite her blush, shared a soda, won a teddy bear for her. Nothing that should’ve made your heart beat as fast as it did.

Nonetheless, time ticked by all too quickly, whirling past in a gust of quiet laughter and honestly terrible jokes. The sun set yet again, the streaks of pink and purple across powder blue oddly similar to the first date you had gone on. Mina checked her watch and frowned, “I think we only have time for one more ride before Jeongyeon comes to pick us up. What do you think?”

You barely had to ponder it before you pointed at the tall, neon-lit Ferris wheel with a smile. “Classic date ride, of course.”

“Classic,” Mina laughed in agreement. She let you tug her towards it and stood in line with you with no complaint, digging a selfie stick out from her bag. “Should we take some pictures up there? It’d be a waste of a beautiful view if we don’t.”

You shrugged, “Of course. Might as well have some pictures to remember our last date by, right?”

Mina looked caught between saying something and staying silent, but she settled with a quiet, “Sure” before starting to set her phone up. Your hand in the crook of her elbow, you tugged her forward when it was necessary, keeping your eyes away from her red-tinted lips as much as you could.

Soon enough, wind was blowing your hair off your face and the cart of the ride was creaking slightly under your weight as someone started the wheel. “Whoa,” Mina laughed breathlessly and peered over the edge. “It’s really high up.”

“And we’re only starting,” you agreed, tugging her back by the wrist. “Don’t fall over, I don’t want to get off this ride with a murder charge on my hands.”

“Hm.” Mina reached over to set the selfie stick on the seat opposite the one the two of you shared, shoving you to get you to match her smile. “Come on, 1, 2, 3.”

With every click of her phone camera, you felt yourself coming closer to her, until you could feel the rise and fall of her chest beside you. You were almost at the top of the ride in barely a couple minutes, the soft sunlight almost blinding you. As you waited for the next camera click, you felt Mina’s hand creep up your arm, up, up, until her slightly cold fingers rested on your neck.

And then she tilted your head, fit her nose right next to yours like it belonged there, and slotted your lips together. You couldn’t think, much less fight whatever force pushed you up against her. You kissed back as best as you could with your senses battling within you, until you realized that the camera shutter had gone off at least ten times.

Mina couldn’t meet your eyes when you did pull back, and she reached over to fiddle with the camera. “Was that a part of the experiment too?” you questioned, your voice raspy.

“Maybe,” she answered, and your heart sank. But she looked up with a smile, her eyes just as confused as you felt. “And maybe not.”

“Oh. Okay,” you said dumbly, then reached over for her hand. There was nothing left to say, anyway, nothing that the slight swell to your lips didn’t already say for you, nothing that wasn’t conveyed when you leaned over to kiss her again.

The idea of allowing a love potion to work its wonders on you was like allowing yourself to be tossed into a trap. But instead of a cold, rough, and terrible trap that you would actively try to escape, you found the trap to be warm, cozy, a place that you wanted to stay-- and a place you knew that you would eventually be ejected from by force.

Once you were in the trap, though, there was no way you could pull yourself back out, especially when you didn’t really want to escape at all. You stayed up for all the nights leading up to the last time you would talk with the bio lab, just thinking about what you would do if everything that had passed by in the last couple weeks was just a figment of an aphrodisiac-induced haze. After all that time, you still didn’t quite know.

But Mina texted you often enough to pull you from that stupor. Thankfully, it wasn’t like one of those stories or dramas, where the main leads somehow fought after their first kiss-- maybe that would’ve been easier than being pulled in deeper. Instead, the two of you talked every day, even if it was only for a little while, and Mina was only worsening whatever situation you couldn’t seem to get out of.

And eventually, the day came where you’d be paid, a day that you had been looking forward to, until you began to dread it.

“Well, doesn’t someone look like a newlywed,” Nayeon greeted at the entrance with a smile, though she didn’t seem to be mocking you. “Come on in, Y/N, we’ll get you started right away.”

The closet was the exact same as it had been the first time that you stepped inside for the interview, but Mina’s smile was much more warm. “Hi, Y/N. How’re you feeling?”

“Good. Fine.” You cleared your throat and attempted to peer at her clipboard. “Questions for me?”

“Yes,” Mina nodded, flipping the pages over. “Are you ready to get started, then? On a scale from one to ten, how attracted are you to me?”

“Ten,” you answered without hesitation this time, and your smile only grew when Mina flushed.

“Okay. Are you considering dating anyone other than me right now?”

“No.” You shook your head, but gulped slightly and leaned back when Mina leaned forward to observe you.

“What about me?”

You paused, blinked, though Mina didn’t seem like she was going to move until you answered, “Yes. I would date you, absolutely.”

She flicked through the pages listlessly before setting them aside and turning back to you. Somehow, Mina looked like she was about to drop a bomb on you, her lips quivering as she calculated the right words. “I... Y/N, I have to tell you something. About the experiment.”

“I’m not going to die, am I?”

Your shitty attempt at humor did manage to prompt a smile from Mina, but she remained serious. “Not that. But- do you understand control groups? In experiments?”

“Um. I think so?” you answered, racking your brain for whatever limited knowledge of science remained with you. “It’s the normal group, right? The one that isn’t experimented on.”

“Yes, just about,” Mina nodded. She reached for your hands and clasped them within hers, eyes pleading for you to understand something that you hadn’t heard yet. “Y/N, you were the control. I... we had to make sure that it was the potion working, and not me, and you- we used you for that. You were never given any potion.”

“I...” you stammered out. Every instinct in you was screaming out to pull away from Mina’s grasp, to question every aspect of your existence that had led up to you being tricked into loving her. Somehow, everything being real only made it feel more fake, even though you now knew that what you had felt was completely you. “I don’t understand.”

Mina said softly, “You fell in love with me, or at least liked me, on your own. You didn’t work as a control group because the same thing happened to you as it did to the others, even though you never took the aphrodisiac.”

“So,” you faltered, “all seven of us fell for you. I’m just the sucker who’s in it for real, huh?”

“I was willing to sacrifice my own feelings for the experiment,” Mina clarified, shaking her head. “I knew I would fall for one of you, but I didn’t think that you, as the control, would be the one who I fell for. And who fell for me.”

Silence fell over the two of you, though you remained there, hands clasped together and eyes meeting with a clarity that speech could never capture. But you tried anyway. “Okay.”

“Just okay?” Mina questioned.

You smiled weakly as a response, “Yeah. Um... how about we go on another date to talk? After you finish interrogating everyone else?”

Mina let go of your hands and let you stand up, but you could feel her smiling at your back as you closed the closet door behind you. Like a repetition of when you thought that you’d be induced into loving her, your heart beat in your throat as you leaned against the wood.

But when you knew it was real, when you knew that it wasn’t magic seizing you by the hand and pulling you into the unknown, you smiled. Because it felt... right.

#twice #twice x reader #mina x reader #mina imagines #mina scenarios #twice imagines #twice scenarios #twice reactions #twice mina #mina #mina myoui #myoui mina

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