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amymel86 · 3 years

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Hello! Do you have any bits of your awesome writing to share for WIP wednesday?😍

I just saw this anon!

And thank you for asking <3

This is a bit more of this as yet untitled 'post-apocalyptic/fertility/modern arranged relationship???' fic. The first bit I posted on tumblr is here and as before, some things are not yet decided (like town names) and things may change...

“Are you sure this is what you want to do, darling?” Her mother’s voice on the telephone was a balm to her soul.

Sansa’s finger brushed the soft vivid petals of the small potted iris she’d bought at the store today. The iris symbolises hope, wisdom and courage among other things and she prays that the pretty purple and yellow bloom will lend her some of those. “I’ve got to try something, Mum,” she says, turning her attention to the two separate bundles of paper in front of her. Two men, two candidates, two different futures. Sansa had filled out all the matching service’s extensive questionnaires and scrutinised all the information she could find on the program. It seemed simple enough – you’re rewarded for helping to repopulate. In turn, the authorities help to pair you with someone who should be a good match dependant on all the information they have about you. The aim is that this new generation of children are raised in the traditional family unit. That had appealed to Sansa. “I can’t seem to find the right guy all on my own anyway,” she said into her phone.

“How do you know it will be safe, though?”

“It says here that my situation will be monitored by my own caseworker. I can call them any time I want. They’re not just going to drop me at the guy’s house and just leave us get on with it.”

“Hmmm... tell me about them? These men that they’ve narrowed down for you.”

“One’s called Waymar, he’s a financial advisor here in the Vale,” Sasna pauses, looking at the man’s photograph on his paperwork before fishing out the other. “And the other is called Jon, he owns a farm in the Reach.”

“None in the north then?” Her mother has been itching to get her back home. “I just wish there was a way to know that either of them were good men, Sansa. That’s all I want for you.”

Sansa put the two photos together. Two possible fathers for her child.

“That’s what I want too.”

***

“Shit! Holy fucking shit!” Jon says to himself, hanging up from his phone-call. “Mance!” he yells, bursting out of his trailer to find the old man. “Mance! It worked! It fucking worked!”

He’d relented. When Mance first put it to him that he should sign up for that weird government breeding program or whatever the fuck it was, he thought the old man’s last brain-cell must’ve fried up in the sun. But if they were going to make it easier for them and it meant Mance could keep the farm (and Jon could carry on living there rent free), then it was worth a shot. So he had relented. He’d filled out what seemed to be a gazillion and one questions about himself, his politics, his views on family and finances and education and fucking... art and shit. These damned government people wanted to know everything about him down to whether he scrunched or folded his toilet paper it seemed. He’d even had to lie. He didn’t like doing it, but there was no way that a fertile was going to pick him if he didn’t. So, he fished out an old photograph – one taken before the bar brawl that lost him his sight in one eye, and he’d also lied his asscheeks off by claiming he had ownership of the farm. He knew – he knew – that these lies are just more things that were going to trip him up one of these days but with Mance urging him on, he’d signed that damn form and offered himself up for the program.

And now a fertile had chosen him.

Him.

Fuck, he might throw up.

This can go one of two ways. Either completely up Shit Creek without a paddle – with his lies and reality crashing down on top of one another, leaving them exposed... or, his fertile somehow looks past his deceits and sticks with him and they-... well, shit, he could actually become a father. No-one becomes parents these days, especially not ‘round here. Fertiles flock to the big cities, to men with bigger pockets, or they work for couples who can afford to pay them off in exchange for a kid or two.

“It worked?” Mance asks, rolling out from under an old Ford pickup that needed a new exhaust. “They sendin’ us a peach?”

Jon shook his head. “They’re not sendin’ you anyone, old man. An’ don’t call her that – they’re-“ Fuck, what did the council call them on all that paperwork? “Reproductively abled.” He’ll have to remember that if he doesn’t want to offend her.

“Well, shit,” Mance grins. “What did I tell ya? Knew your pretty face was good for somethin’!”

Jon frowns. “Ain’t so pretty no more though.” He might have to go get himself a patch to cover his milky, sightless eye. It’s fine most of the time since Mance is the only one he sees unless he’s going to drink at Hobb’s, but he certainly doesn’t want to put off his ferti- reproductively abled friend who’ll be arriving in three weeks.

“She got a name? Your new peach?” Mance asked, earning him a glare.

“Sansa. Sansa Stark.”

Mance grunts and nods. “Sounds fancy.”

Yeah... It did sound kinda fancy he supposes. Jon’s first reaction had been that it was a mighty beautiful name, but now he thinks of it...

“Shame we can’t look her up – see if she’s a beauty or not.”

Jon can’t remember a time when that was an option. He was barely 11 at the highest point of the virus’s hold. Government officials had deemed certain channels on the internet were causing more harm than good by spreading false rumours, incorrect statistics and completely counterintuitive medical advice. The whole thing was shut down, now deemed illegal, only to be reconnected again three years later apparently looking like a foreign landscape from the one before. The internet was no longer a platform to socialise, only government approved informative sites remained. Mance says it’s better this way – that all people used to do was post vain images of themselves for attention anyway.

Jon wouldn’t mind seeing a vain image of Sansa Stark right about now though.

Not that it mattered terribly. As long as they get along and she decides to stick around she could be as ugly as sin. In fact, she probably will be, won’t she? Most pretty ferti- reproductively abled women stick to the cities and its high-fliers.

It doesn’t matter, he told himself. You just gotta keep her happy here and-

“Mance?” he asks, an issue coming to mind. The man grunts in acknowledgement. “Where the fuck is she gonna sleep? She’s not gonna want to stay in my trailer.”

The man grins in response. “I’m glad you asked, boy. I’m glad you asked.”

***

Her caseworker was meant to meet her at the train station. It was quite a drive to the farm and he was meant to pick her up, make sure she’s safe and happy and introduce her to Jon.

That hasn’t happened.

“Please accept my apologies, my dear,” Mr Baelish said down the other end of the phone. “There’s been a mix up with my schedule. We can set you up for the night at a local motel or ask your match to come and get you. Which would you prefer?”

Sansa eyes the dirty looking motel across the street from the train station. Everything here at [[INSERT TOWN NAME]] seems a little on the... rundown side. Maybe the sooner she gets to the farm, the better. Plus, her tummy is all a flutter with anticipation to actually meet Jon. She’d wound up swaying towards Jon as a match due to a few reasons; 1 – he does not live in, around, or anywhere near Harry or his crazy mother. 2 – he owns a farm, and that had conjured up hazy daydreams of idyllic country life. Sansa may enjoy big nights out in the city, drinking her dirty margaritas and feeling her bones vibrate against the base beat in a nightclub, but she knows that’s not what she wants to raise a child around. A child will want to run barefoot through wheat fields and chase chickens and milk cows and –

Let’s just say Sansa has a few ideas and that they all helped to sway her away from city pleasures and towards farmhouse life. And Jon

And last, but not least, reason number 3 – Jon himself. Put side-by-side, his and Waymar’s photographs looked rather similar if truth be told, but Jon won out on something that Sansa just couldn’t describe. Looking at his photograph gave her goosepimples along her forearms because it was like he was looking right back at her. There was something in the depths of his eyes – a kindness? A wit? A strength? She’s not sure, but she couldn’t find the same qualities when she stared at Waymar’s likeness. And his answers too. His questionnaire was full of how he’d like to teach a kid how to walk and ride a bike and fix a... a tractor for heaven’s sake! And so her head was flooded once more of this idyllic life where they got up to watch the dawn stretch over the farmland and they’d grow their own vegetables and she’d bake a pie every day and it would just be perfect.

Perfect, perfect, perfect.

Sansa glances around the near abandoned train station.

This doesn’t look so perfect right now.

“Could you please arrange for Jon to come and get me, Mr Baelish?”

***

It’s been an hour and fifty-six minutes precisely since Sansa last spoke to Mr Baelish to arrange her match coming to get her. An hour and fifty-six minutes of sitting on the curb, waiting, surrounded by her three suitcases. She’d started off by sitting at the nearby bus stop, purely because it was somewhere to sit and she had a clear view of the road, but after the rude bus driver insisted that if she’s sat there, she must be wanting to hop on his bus, Sansa decided to park her butt on the dusty, sun-baked curb instead. Her legs were beginning to numb and she was starting to get a headache from the sun beaming down on her head. The curls she’d styled into her copper locks have likely lost their hold by now. What a waste. Opposite, on the other side of the street, beside the dirty little motel, there was a tiny bar that advertised the fact that it hosted exotic dancers at the weekends with a blinking neon sign. Next to it was a hunting and fishing ‘emporium’ and beside that was a vacant store with an old dirty sign that read ‘Blouses & More!’. Presumably, the ‘& more’ still wasn’t enough to keep that fine establishment in business in this funny little town. At the end of the block was ‘Tarly’s Drugstore’ and Sansa had been debating with herself whether or not she should haul her suitcases over to go buy a drink and a magazine for about the last hour and fifty-five minutes.

But she hadn’t wanted to miss Jon Snow’s arrival.

Jon Snow, who seemed to be pulling up outside Tarly’s Drugstore in a dusty Ford pickup truck right about now. Sansa stood, expecting him to come right on over considering how long she’d been waiting for him, but she found herself wondering if she’d got it all wrong when she hadn’t caught a good enough look at him before he darted straight into the store.

Sansa is done with waiting. She grabs her smallest case and places it on top of her larger one, trying her darnedest to roll all her luggage across the road in a lady-like fashion. She could feel the eyes of several passers-by on her while her stiletto heels clip across the street. In turn, her own gaze fell to Jon’s cream-coloured truck. Its front bumper looked a little rusty and wonky too. There was a big gash in the leather of the bench seating on the passenger side. On the truck bed, there were a number of items, including a rocking chair that seems to have a couple of spindles on the chair-back missing, and a new double bed mattress wrapped in clear plastic. Sansa was almost done frowning at the state of the vehicle when the over-door bell of the drugstore tinkles.

“Holy shit,” he curses. And yes, it definitely was Jon standing right in front of her. Only... well... his hair was tied into a knot at the back of his head and.... and... he was wearing a black eye patch? “Uh,” he stood there, arms laden with bottles from the store as the gaze from his one good eye quickly darted down her frame and back up again. “You’re her, right? You’re Sansa Stark?”

Sansa found she could only nod, looking him up and down, like he was with her. He was in jeans with oil smears, some tough, heavy looking boots, a somehow pristine white vest and flannel shirt with the arms ripped off.

Speaking of arms...

Gods-damn! Sansa’s focus was momentarily derailed...

“Sorry, I-“ Jon starts before his grey eye drops to the floor and then returns to her, looking a little bashful. “I didn’t expect you to be so pretty.”

Oh boy. He may be wearing an eye patch right now but this man could win over a thousand girls with that smile, Sansa’s sure of it. She resists the urge to giggle like a schoolgirl. She’s here to find out if they’re well suited enough to start a family together – she needs to keep her head and think rationally, not allow herself to be swayed by his rugged country boy charm. It was Harry’s looks that enticed her in the first place – and look how well that turned out for her?

“Thank you,” Sansa says, blinking back at him before his words truly hit home. “Didn’t they give you my photograph?”

Jon shook his head. “No, ma’am.”

Huh.

“Did they show you mine?”

Sansa bites her lip and gives a nod.

Jon grimaces. “So I guess you weren’t expecting this?” He points to his patch.

Sansa shakes her head. “No... did you... did you do something to injure it?”

Jerking his head, Jon begins rubbing at the back of his neck with his free hand. “It’s a long story... but... it ain’t gonna get any better, if that’s what you’re askin’.”

“Oh.”

They stood, staring at one another for a heartbeat or five before Jon sucks in a breath over his teeth and glances down to the bottles he clutched to his chest with one arm. “I tried to get you some things to help you feel at home,” he says, “these are the nicest smellin’ soaps ‘n’ stuff from Tarly’s.”

“Thank you,” Sansa replies, knowing full well that she brought her Highgarden Floral Scents bathroom range with her.

Jon chews on his lip as he eyes her suitcases. “Lemme get those for you,” he offers before dumping the bottles in his arms into the truck bed and reaching for her luggage. Sansa’s heeled shoes seem welded to the spot. Jon notices. Scrubbing both hands down his face in resignation, he takes a step closer to her and Sansa realises for the first time, that he had dirt beneath his fingernails. She wasn’t sure how she felt about that. “It was a shitty thing for me to do,” he offers, his words low and husky. Sansa feels the timbre of his voice set off a trickle of gooseflesh down her spine. “I’m sorry.”

She blinks at him, momentarily confused.

“About this,” he explains, brows high on his head as he points to his patch. “I shouldn’t have sent that old photo of before this happened, but – fuck – even my ex-girl won’t acknowledge I exist anymore with this and I knew I shoulda been honest about it but-“

“This ex-girl...” Sansa suddenly found herself left with a sour taste in her mouth. “... does she still mean something to you?”

Jon licks at his lips, his eye falling briefly to her own. “No, ma’am,” he shakes his head.

#jonsa #jon x sansa #wip wednesday #but late #oops

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deiliamedlini · 3 years

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WIP Wednesday

This is a piece of a long oneshot I was working on that I actually just went back to so I could change the era this took place in to use for something else! So this is is the modern meeting of small-town Link and big-city-moving-to-small-town-for-work Zelda.

I might still go back to this one specifically, especially since most of this info can’t transfer to the earlier era I’m changing it to. I also haven’t edited it, since I’m just in the process of hijacking bits and pieces, so please excuse my dear Aunt Sally. No, wait... that’s not writing...

~~~~

“I just can’t believe they sent me here,” Zelda said into her phone. It was tucked between her cheek and her shoulder as she drove down a dirt road. On one side, there was farmland: an extensive few acres of it, from what she could tell. On her other side, trees.

Zelda loved trees. She did! They were a big part of her job, and she had nothing against them. But goddess above, she’d never seen so many trees in her life. Glancing at the clock, she realized that she’d been surrounded by trees for nearly an hour now, overwhelmed by the sight.

A city girl through and through, her entire life had been spent in the bustle of Castle Town: the largest, busiest, most innovative and thriving city in all of Hyrule. She’d gone to the best schools there, and worked at an exclusive corporation.

But they needed her to go somewhere else.

For the sake of the research, she reminded herself as she tried to focus on the phone and not all the trees. Or the mountains that replaced skyscrapers and castles. Or the farms that replaced parks and streets.

On the other end of the receiver were two voices. One was Midna, Zelda’s best friend. The other was Tetra, her older sister. The three of them together were incredibly close, and Midna had even offered to uproot her own life to join Zelda on this rural adventure. But Zelda had told her to hold down the fort; this move wasn’t permanent, and she’d be joining Midna back in their three-bedroom apartment that they all had shared in the heart of Castle Town.

“Are you almost there?” Midna asked, loudly typing something into her computer.

“She’s got to be,” Tetra muttered.

“I think I am.” Zelda looked around, but there were only… more trees. Shocker. “If the moving truck could find this place, then so can I.”

“Does she start work tomorrow?” Tetra asked, clearly directed at Midna.

“No,” Zelda answered for her. “I start Monday. They’re going to send me all the information ‘once I get settled.’”

“At least you know how much they value you,” Midna tried, but it was clearly a forced compliment and a poor attempt to make Zelda feel any better about taking this position. But really, when her boss asked her to take on a special assignment, one that paid double her old salary, she couldn’t resist, no matter how uprooted her life became.

“I know, but it’s—”

Suddenly, there was more than just trees.

A goat stepped into the road, much faster than Zelda ever thought goat could move. She dropped the phone, let out a high-pitched noise of absolute panic, and swerved around the goat. But she swerved off the dirt path, heard a thud, felt the car shake, and immediately slammed the breaks, rearing forward into the steering wheel.

“Sweet Goddess Hylia and all things holy!” she hissed, breathing heavily. Her chest hurt where she’d bounced into the wheel, but it hadn’t nearly been hard enough to cause the airbags to deploy.

Quickly putting the car in park, she shakily unbuckled her seatbelt and stepped outside, shaking out her hands and letting out some nerves before reaching into the car to grab the fallen phone.

“I’m okay,” she said quickly, brushing her hair from her face. “I almost hit a goat.”

“Goddess!” they both breathed. “We thought you were dead! My heart, Zelda!”

“I know, I’m sorry! Look, I hit something. I don’t see any dead animals in the road, but I’m going to hang up so I can look. I’ll call you later.”

The three of them were notorious for never saying ‘goodbye’ on the phone. Really, they didn’t do it in real life either. Even when Zelda left, the last thing Tetra had said was ‘I’ll come up to visit real soon’, and Midna had said, ‘find me a hottie, or some other excuse to move up there with you.’

So, Zelda hung up with just a promise to call them back, and she hurried down the road to where she’d heard the thud.

It didn’t take much investigating to figure out what had happened: there was a broken fence, splintered and thrown wildly around the area after her apparent impact with it, and a frayed rope on the ground. And a sign that said “fence broken”. Helpful.

Zelda glanced back at the goat, unmoved by anything that had just occurred. It was meandering through the road, boredly exploring an area that it didn’t seem interested in. Perhaps the trees felt familiar to it.

Zelda groaned and took a picture of the fence before trying to get the internet on her phone so she could look up the local police number to report that she’d damaged property.

No internet connection.

“Great,” she muttered, turning to take a picture of the goat before it could move. Then, she headed back to her car, just to make sure there was no innocent animal underneath. She flipped the flashlight on and ducked down.

Zelda groaned, but not because there was a dead animal. No, it wasn’t an animal that was dead; it was her tire. There was a giant piece of the broken fence impaled into the rubber, and thanks to her rolling a few feet away, it was in there good.

“Of course. Of course!” Zelda yelled into the abyss, not even earning a curious glance from the goat.

Grabbing her phone, she was blinded by the light she’d left on and turned it around so she could look up the tow company immediately but was met by the same message. No internet connection.

Rolling her eyes, she scrolled to Midna’s name and pressed call.

Silence. Not even ringing.

Zelda checked the corner of the screen, struck first by her red battery life, and second by the device bars desperately looking for a connection.

“I was just talking to them!” she yelled at the phone, as if it cared that she’d had service moments ago. It gave her the urge to throw the phone, but she wasn’t that angry yet.

Instead, she turned her camera on, took a picture of her impaled tire in case the insurance company would need it, and then took several pictures of the goat just for fun, praying that it didn’t charge at her or whatever goats did.

She continued observing the goat without anything else to do until a car headed down the road. She stood and began to wave her arms wildly, but the car drove right past her.

“Jerk,” she muttered, pushing her hair back and returning to sit. But it wasn’t long until a pickup truck slowed down before she could even get back out of the car. She breathed a sigh of relief when they stopped and rolled down the window.

“Everything alright, Miss?”

“Not really,” she sighed, looking at her car sympathetically. She gestured to her tire.

“Got a spare? I got a jack if you need it.”

His voice was accented with the local dialect, which made her feel a little at ease. At least this was someone who’s likely be familiar with the area and could tell her how far away she was.

She had to admit, she’d spoken to one of her coworkers on the phone and had also become enamored with her accent, though it wasn’t from around here either. Zelda had a feeling she was just a sucker for anything that wasn’t the harsh poshness of the Castle Town accent, where every letter pronounced, every syllable attempting to be heard. It was a hard accent, and a cold one. The ones around here was warm and inviting.

Of course, it would make her stick out anytime she opened her mouth, which she didn’t really want.

Castle Town was posh, for sure. A town for the rich and the well-off, or those in school or at work. So Zelda knew a thing or two about stranger danger, and the deeply rooted nerves she felt when she saw the man unbuckle his seatbelt from her peripheral vision bubbled up. She had an escape route planned: toward the broken fence. She wasn’t being kidnapped on her first day in town. But he didn’t get out. He just leaned across the seat to the open window.

Finally, she looked at him, and her breath caught. Well, he certainty matched his voice. Something tired and alert all at once. His blonde hair was long and tied back into a ponytail, falling out in the front so his bangs messily framed his face, bringing her attention to his piercing blue eyes.

Oh yeah, this was the kind of guy they warned you about in Castle Town. Too pretty for their own good. She’d have talked to him in a crowded bar for sure. But out here…?

She glanced back at her car, breaking her distracted trance, trying to remember what he’d asked. “Oh, uh, no. I took everything out of the car to fit my things. I figured I’d take my chances for not getting a flat, but surprise, surprise, a goat wants me dead.”

“Where you going? I can give you a lift if you want. You can get Daruk out here tomorrow morning to tow it wherever you need to go.”

“Oh,” she breathed. Don’t get into a car with someone you just met unless someone knows who they are or where you’re going. “Yeah, I was actually just going to ask if I could borrow your phone? Mine isn’t getting service. I can just call my tow company that I’m enrolled with.”

He nodded and reached across his passenger seat before handing her a phone out the window. She half expected it to be something old and rustic, like this whole place, but it was new and modern and almost exactly like hers. She’d just assumed the small town didn’t have the newest phones. What a stupid assumption.

“Mind if I just look up their number first?” she asked before randomly clicking around on a strange man’s phone.

“Go for it.”

She did and listened to all the automated options. The man was bobbing his head to some music she couldn’t hear. A car came down the road, stopping and honking, despite the fact that they could clearly go around him.

The man rolled his eyes and backed into the breakdown lane behind Zelda’s car, though she was thankful he still didn’t get out

It was only when Zelda’s eyes widened in either shock or horror at whatever she’d heard over the phone that he leaned his head back out the window curiously.

She walked up to him and handed the phone back. “Thanks.”

“So?”

“Three hours to get out here.” Zelda’s misery was palpable.

“Where are you going, if you don’t mind my asking?”

“Some little village called Ordon”

He smirked and leaned back in his seat. “I’m headed there as well. Want a ride? We can get Daruk out here sooner to just tow your car in if he knows he’ll just be headed back into town. It’s not far.”

“Oh, I don’t know… not that I don’t appreciate it, but I don’t know you.”

He reached his hand out the window. “Link. I live in Ordon. Work too. Nice to meet you”

“Zelda,” she said, taking his hand.

“Here,” he said, pulling out his wallet and handing her a business card. “So you don’t think I’m lying. But I do have to get to work at some point, so if you want that ride…”

“I just don’t want you to be a kidnapping murderer and kill me, you know?”

He grinned, suppressing a chuckle.

Zelda crossed her arms. “Don’t laugh at my potential murder.”

Gesturing to his phone still in her hand. “You can keep that with you the whole ride so you can call the cops on me if you think I’m kidnapping you.”

Toying with the phone, she took another look at her car. “Okay. Just let me grab my bag.”

#wip wednesday #link #zelda #zelink #legend of zelda #modern au #flat tire trope #goat #and by goat I don't mean greatest of all time but literally a goat

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