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rainbowfic2013-11-17 11:09 pm
bookblather) wrote in rainbowfic2013-11-17 11:09 pm
Twilight 1: Reminder
Author: Kat
Title: Reminder
Story: Shine Like It Does
Colors: Twilight 1 (Embody)
Supplies and Materials: Mosaic (with Person of Interest), collage (Person of Interest), eraser (D/S AU), frame, brush (accolade).
Word Count: 572
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Miranda Hennessy and John Reese discuss collars.
Warnings: Some blink-and-miss-it discussion of BDSM sexytimes, but all parties are consenting adults in happy relationships, so.
Notes: This one's gonna take a little explaining. So I watch this show called Person of Interest, which is amazing and I recommend everyone watch it if you're into crime shows where the women are utterly amazing and the men are faintly ridiculous. Turns out Sara watches it too, and she wrote fic (which I also recommend) that takes place in an alternate universe where your gender is not defined by your biological sex but rather by whether you are a dominant or submissive personality, and as I understand it, a collar is roughly equivalent to a wedding ring. I'm borrowing it from the Polyfaceted crew, but I believe it was conceived by some other folks? IDK. It's not mine.
Everyone got that? Good. From that confluence of events, this story happened. Blame Sara. And enjoy.
"That's pretty," John says, and when Miranda raises an eyebrow, he nods at her collar.
"Oh, thank you." It's black velvet over leather, with a ruby drop at the hollow of her throat—understated, elegant, breathlessly perfect. She spent hours on her knees for Peter, after he put it around her throat.
"Kinda threw us for a loop," John says, "since we were pretty sure you were a dom at first."
She smiles. "I am," she says, and reaches up to fiddle with the ruby—a habit now, comforting. "Except for him."
John shrugs, and doesn't respond. Miranda gives him a minute, and then adds, "I imagined you would understand that." Her eyes flick down to the collar just visible through his shirt. Plain and functional, a working man's collar, but for the material. Miranda has an eye for metals and she's fairly certain it's platinum.
He looks at her, then shrugs again. "It confuses people," he replies, "but I don't get a lot of questions."
"Mm." Because the prospective questioner is being shot at, Miranda expects. That's how she first met John, after all. "I do."
He laughs a little, with genuine humor behind it. "You'd think it's kind of a liability in the boardroom."
She smiles again, this time the sharp-toothed grin she gives her opponents, and meets his eyes directly. He looks down, a smile kicking at one corner of his mouth. "One would assume. One would be wrong."
"Gotta say, hearing that voice out of somebody wearing a collar would throw anyone for a loop." He picks up his coffee but not to sip. Window dressing—Miranda's done it herself enough times to recognize the idea.
"It's an advantage," she replies. "I don't discard advantages lightly. Besides..." She's touching the ruby again. She doesn't even know when her hand went to her throat. "Besides, it reminds me that... that I belong to him."
You belong to me, Peter had told her, stroking her hair as she lay alongside him with the collar around her neck, and that means you mustn't be cruel to yourself. You must be kind, and forgiving. You're mine now, and I won't let anyone mistreat you. He'd kissed her hairline then, and the hollow of her throat where the ruby lay. Not even you.
Even the memory of his voice makes her shoulders relax a little. Her Peter.
Across the table, John wears a look similar to how she feels, soft and dreamy. It should have looked utterly alien on his harsh features. Instead it seems wrong that he should ever look any other way. "Yeah," he says. "I... it makes you feel safe."
There's more to it than feeling safe, of course. Miranda uses her collar ruthlessly, to knock prospective clients and rivals off guard, to fool others into thinking her harmless and acting accordingly. She's sure that John uses his the same way, playing up the stereotype of the innocent sub until the time came to bring out the guns. But more than that, it means that Peter is always with her even if he's physically far away. It means that he loves her, enough to make it plain for the world to see.
It means that she loves him enough to bear that mark with pride. Reminders. It's all she needs.
"It reminds me of Harold," John adds, and Miranda smiles.
"Yes," she says. "I understand."
Title: Reminder
Story: Shine Like It Does
Colors: Twilight 1 (Embody)
Supplies and Materials: Mosaic (with Person of Interest), collage (Person of Interest), eraser (D/S AU), frame, brush (accolade).
Word Count: 572
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Miranda Hennessy and John Reese discuss collars.
Warnings: Some blink-and-miss-it discussion of BDSM sexytimes, but all parties are consenting adults in happy relationships, so.
Notes: This one's gonna take a little explaining. So I watch this show called Person of Interest, which is amazing and I recommend everyone watch it if you're into crime shows where the women are utterly amazing and the men are faintly ridiculous. Turns out Sara watches it too, and she wrote fic (which I also recommend) that takes place in an alternate universe where your gender is not defined by your biological sex but rather by whether you are a dominant or submissive personality, and as I understand it, a collar is roughly equivalent to a wedding ring. I'm borrowing it from the Polyfaceted crew, but I believe it was conceived by some other folks? IDK. It's not mine.
Everyone got that? Good. From that confluence of events, this story happened. Blame Sara. And enjoy.
"That's pretty," John says, and when Miranda raises an eyebrow, he nods at her collar.
"Oh, thank you." It's black velvet over leather, with a ruby drop at the hollow of her throat—understated, elegant, breathlessly perfect. She spent hours on her knees for Peter, after he put it around her throat.
"Kinda threw us for a loop," John says, "since we were pretty sure you were a dom at first."
She smiles. "I am," she says, and reaches up to fiddle with the ruby—a habit now, comforting. "Except for him."
John shrugs, and doesn't respond. Miranda gives him a minute, and then adds, "I imagined you would understand that." Her eyes flick down to the collar just visible through his shirt. Plain and functional, a working man's collar, but for the material. Miranda has an eye for metals and she's fairly certain it's platinum.
He looks at her, then shrugs again. "It confuses people," he replies, "but I don't get a lot of questions."
"Mm." Because the prospective questioner is being shot at, Miranda expects. That's how she first met John, after all. "I do."
He laughs a little, with genuine humor behind it. "You'd think it's kind of a liability in the boardroom."
She smiles again, this time the sharp-toothed grin she gives her opponents, and meets his eyes directly. He looks down, a smile kicking at one corner of his mouth. "One would assume. One would be wrong."
"Gotta say, hearing that voice out of somebody wearing a collar would throw anyone for a loop." He picks up his coffee but not to sip. Window dressing—Miranda's done it herself enough times to recognize the idea.
"It's an advantage," she replies. "I don't discard advantages lightly. Besides..." She's touching the ruby again. She doesn't even know when her hand went to her throat. "Besides, it reminds me that... that I belong to him."
You belong to me, Peter had told her, stroking her hair as she lay alongside him with the collar around her neck, and that means you mustn't be cruel to yourself. You must be kind, and forgiving. You're mine now, and I won't let anyone mistreat you. He'd kissed her hairline then, and the hollow of her throat where the ruby lay. Not even you.
Even the memory of his voice makes her shoulders relax a little. Her Peter.
Across the table, John wears a look similar to how she feels, soft and dreamy. It should have looked utterly alien on his harsh features. Instead it seems wrong that he should ever look any other way. "Yeah," he says. "I... it makes you feel safe."
There's more to it than feeling safe, of course. Miranda uses her collar ruthlessly, to knock prospective clients and rivals off guard, to fool others into thinking her harmless and acting accordingly. She's sure that John uses his the same way, playing up the stereotype of the innocent sub until the time came to bring out the guns. But more than that, it means that Peter is always with her even if he's physically far away. It means that he loves her, enough to make it plain for the world to see.
It means that she loves him enough to bear that mark with pride. Reminders. It's all she needs.
"It reminds me of Harold," John adds, and Miranda smiles.
"Yes," she says. "I understand."
no subject
(Though the premise does make me wonder how switches would be treated. I guess it would depend on it's a binary system or not.)
no subject
Thank you!
no subject
*DOES SPIT TAKE*
People are still writing this AU? IIRC, it predates coffee shops. There were Star Trek fics in this AU circa Gundam W fandom (2000).
If anyone wants to quote me on this, I'm specifically remembering one where Picard was a sub and Q was trying to court him.
COOL. Moving on...
"One would assume. One would be wrong." That /line/. That way Miranda's demeanor changes so subtly. I heart it. HARD.
Miranda's collar sounds effing amazing and I adore how you described it.
And Peter. Giving it to her with those words. Now that /is/ romantic. Very much so.
This is awesome and thank you.
no subject
also Picard sub wut
"One would assume. One would be wrong." That /line/. That way Miranda's demeanor changes so subtly. I heart it. HARD.
YAY HURRAY she was going all dommy there and I was worried it didn't come off right AND IT DID thank you <3