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koneko-pi · 1 year

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Silver Season

Chapter one: Lead The Way

A bedroom, while clean and tidy, was barren of any personal effects. White walls, stone floors, and nothing but a side table, littered with small bottles both empty and full, and a bed in the corner of the room where someone currently laid in wait for their day to start. Chestnut colored hair sprawled out across soft green bed sheets. The sleeping form of a woman.

A small draft pushed the curtains of her open window up into the air where they tickled at her face. Her eyelashes fluttered and slowly, tiredly, she lifted herself up. Rubbing away the ache in her eyes. Another night of no sleep and just laying there with eyes closed, imagining what she could dream about.

She stretched, a satisfying pop filling the silent void of her room before she slid out of bed and made her way to the window, gently closing it. She stared out over the people of the Clover kingdom with an unreasonable expression. Bakers beginning to set out their morning entices, knights out on their patrols, a small boy running around with newspapers, shouting for coins, until a nobleman stuck his foot out causing the child to trip.

She quickly closed the curtain before she could see anymore, the sight had created a heavy ache in her back, under her left shoulder .

"Today feels… different…" She muttered softly to herself.

Emergency captains meetings had, at one point, been few and far between. And Nozel would not have to schedule himself so sparingly so he could be called upon at any moment's notice. But recently it seemed like every other day he was being summoned up to the Wizard kings castle to listen to everyone bicker amongst each other. Even now down the empty hall he could hear Yami's overly loud voice arguing with, most likely, Jack.

"Do you two ever shut up?" Nozel commented to them as he walked through the doors and over to his own space to sit down between Dorothy and Jack.

"You can shove it Braid-Face." Yami was immediately on the defensive over whatever topic had him so worked up.

The silver mage had already been in a foul mood that day but to be so atrociously insulted, by a foreigner no less, had his mana flaring up already.

"You need to calm down." Fuegoleon, newly appointed back into his position, pushed himself in before some kind of fight could take place. "We're all tired and tempers are short. There's no need to antagonize one another, especially not in front of Julius who is in the worst state of us all."

All heads turned to their now tiny wizard king, who looked incredibly apologetic at having to summon them here once again.

"Please forgive me…" he said as soothingly as he could. If it had come from anyone else the captains would not have calmed down as quickly as they did.

"What brings us all together this time?" Nozel asked after gaining his composure again.

"Yeah, no offense Julius, but some of us really got our plates full." Yami huffed, a cigarette was held tightly between two fingers but was unlit. It was pretty obvious how badly he wanted to light it though.

What Yami was referring to was the unfair task placed upon his squad after the Elven attack, repel, and then trial of his squad mate Asta. Not only did the bulls have their hands full looking into Devil nonsense but everyone else was still busy repairing not just the kingdom but their own reputations. Many of the citizens had lost a lot of faith in their Magic knights after it seemed they had turned against them as traitors. As a result everyone was running themselves ragged and tempers were short.

And that was no different for the captains, organizing the work forces on top of attending these regular meetings, they too were all looking incredibly tired.

"I really do apologize for summoning you all so suddenly." Julius sighed. "But I promise this time it's important."

Rather than explain himself what was happening he nodded to Jack.

"Keh…" the man seemed bitter as he turned and shouted to the doors. "You can bring it in!"

"Bring it in?" Charlotte looked confused, mirroring everyone else in the room as two Green Mantis knights came in carrying a large blanket-wrapped something.

"Good lord, what is that stench!?" Kaiser was first to recoil from the horrid odor that was permeating the room.

"Is it that?!" William was leaning away as the two magic knights tossed their load over onto the meeting table. Its bindings came undone to reveal what was inside…

"That's the biggest ant I've ever seen!" Rill gawked at it. It was a suspicion the boy had an odd interest in magical beasts with how often he used them in paintings. This reaction just further proved it.

Laying now on their table, undoubtedly dead, was a massive Ant. Its body was a shiny red color with a foul smelling green fluid leaking out of open gash wounds that must have taken its life. There was no shine to its lifeless eyes and over all the creature was easily the size of a large dog.

"Where did this come from?" Fuegoleon looked equally as shocked. Sure magical beasts had been a thing but there had never been anything that special about them, magic knights had never needed to deal with them. They were mostly hunted by sport by Nobles but no ordinary noble would have been able to do these kinds of wounds.

"Out in the common realm." Jack huffed, as if trying to get a breath of clean air but that was near impossible in the room. Marx was already rushing to open up all the windows in the room before they suffered too much. "A whole horde of them had attacked a village and some of my patrol men had to chase them away."

"Chase them away?" Charlotte echoed, looking horrified. "Are you telling me you couldn't kill all of them?"

Jack responded by throwing a hand up, a knife shot out of his forearm and bounced right off the armor plating.

"Are you kidding me?" Yami asked.

"KEH! Don't look down on me like that!" Jack snapped as he pointed a finger towards his friend. "If I really wanted to try, I could cut through it! I aint weak." He was a captain after all. "But that strike could have been any average magic knight… I'm just showin' ya they aint easy to kill…"

"So you just chased them away…" Fuegoleon had reached his flaming arm out towards the beast, laying it against the hard shell of its body "It's like armor… where did they come from?"

"Hell if I know!" Jack snapped. His irritation meant he'd already tried, and failed, to follow them back to wherever they came from. "They vanished into the ground. Their fast diggers I'll tell ya that…"

"You couldn't track them?" Charlotte glared at him. "Are you that useless?"

"You want to try it yourself!?" Jack raised his hand again, mana condensing within his arm…

"Please, enough!" Julius shouted. Everyone immediately calmed and sat back down. "I know we have a lot to handle after recent attacks but people out in the common are in a panic over this." He gestured to the beast. "People have even been going missing…"

The atmosphere of the room changed drastically after that…

"So what is the plan?" Fuegoleon asked. "I'm sure it's common knowledge that all of our squads are currently spread thin."

Julius gave a solemn nod. "Yes. Which is why I must apologize for pulling one of your squads out from the repair work to take care of this mysterious ant issue."

"Let us do it." William said with all the determination he could muster. "The Golden Dawn is still eager to prove themselves again sir."

"Oh like you could do it." Charlotte huffed. "The citizens are still avoiding many of your magic knights like the plague. Please give it to the Blue Roses, sir. We can get the job done quickly."

"With what man power?" Jack huffed. "Let's not forget you are in the same boat as him!" He jutted his chin out to William who looked bitter but understanding of his own situation. "People don't exactly trust you either, besides we're the ones who found it."

They all had begun fighting amongst one another on who could handle the task better. And while they had the best intentions at heart, there was no doubt they were all jumping at the opportunity to be exempt from all other duties to take care of this job.

"Everyone!" Julius slammed his hands on the table and they all silenced themselves. This had been the second time their Wizard King had to cut into their bickering. "It's already been decided that the Silver Eagles will be taking this job on their shoulders."

Nozel looked shocked as everyone once again roared to life.

"Thank you… sir." Nozel was surprised, grateful, but surprised nonetheless.

"Do what you can." Julius pressed, now ignoring the voices of his other Captains. "The people seemed to find your squad favorable currently because of the role you played in the last attack."

"With all due respect sir, I was not the only one..."

"I understand. But Fuegoleon is still adjusting to his condition, I want to ease him back into work. And others have their hands full with other things. It was after a lot of thought I decided to give this to you."

Nozel swelled with pride before giving his King a Salute. "I will not let you down."

The others heaved and settled into their seats. Giving up on trying to convince Julius of anything else.

"I will admit though… It comes with a catch." With how Julius was scratching his cheek in nervousness, anyone else would have not suspected this boy was one of their countries leaders.

"I'm sure it's not that bad, Julius." Nozel insisted. "Whatever it is, I can deal with it."

Moments later the man was throwing open the castle doors and storming out, so irritated he walked right past his waiting siblings.

"Nozel?" Nebra blinked owlishly at her brother's unusual ire.

"What happened?" Solid asked as the pair of them quickly hurried to catch up to Nozel. "Are they giving us more work?"

Nozel stopped and spun to face his brother, mouth open as if to say something but no sound came out. The younger Silva just stood there wide eyed and confused over his Brothers out of character reaction.

Nozel closed his mouth to think then sighed. "Yes and No."

The pair glanced at one another before asking; "and that means..?"

He explained how the Silver Eagles were now in charge of investigating an infestation of never before seen magical beasts.

"But that's great!" Nebra chuckled. "We have proven our worth is far more valuable than that of any other squad! As it should be."

"And we don't have to do all this ridiculous manual labor anymore." Solid looked thrilled. Such work was for the commoners, not for nobles like them. "I'm sure we can take care of some feeble insects with no issue. So what has you so irritated, brother?"

Nozel took a slow inhale. "They've assigned a member of the Magical research division to our squad for the duration of this extermination."

"What." Both siblings' faces fell into irritation. So now all their expressions matched.

The Wizard kings castle was more than just where he lived and did his work; it housed a couple of different sections like ballrooms, meeting rooms, the royal hospital that Owen worked in, the Grand Library that Marx over saw, the courtroom, Prison and matching Torture chamber. But one section that was often overlooked for its lack of visitors was the Magical Lab. It was this division of the castle that all dungeon spoils went to first to be checked over before being distributed to their appropriate places. They also were in charge of investigating spells, potions, magical creatures, tools and their potential creation and/or origins.

It was considered an unofficial magic knights squad only because of how dangerous their own job could be at times. One could injure themselves on a mysterious magical tool just as easily as someone going into a dungeon to try and retrieve it. However they had no real squad name, no cloak and was usually the place where those who had failed to pass the Magic Knights entrance exam would go to next should they still want to serve their country somehow. So those who did know about the division often saw it as a place that picked up leftovers. They were never talked about by citizens, because of how easy it was to forget they even existed, and to actual Magic Knights they were considered a joke because it was understood they rarely went into the field and remained locked up in "julius basement."

"Why would the Wizard King think we need some… pencil pushing drop out to help us!?" They had started walking back to the base and Nebra was heatedly voicing her opinion.

"He was calling this an investigation rather than an extermination. Maybe he thought one of them should take notes on a new species of creature." Nozel tried to rationalize it himself. As he too didn't understand what was running through Julius' mind.

"Does that mean we'll need to capture one alive." Solid groaned. "But it's easier to rip them apart."

"I bet I could kill more of them than you could." Nebra giggled.

"Oh, is that a challenge sister?" Solid got a grin on his face that, some would say, bordered on being too evil looking.

"When is this magical scholar supposed to be showing up anyway." The silver haired girl asked. While she didn't want to deal with some weakling, they would have a responsibility for them while they were under Silver Eagles protection.

"Supposedly they're already waiting for us at the base." Nozel entered the gates that lead into the Silver Eagles base. A grand manor made of white stone with its own courtyard, statues of eagles in various positions of flight lined the walkway up to large double doors where two plates of the Silver Eagles logo were embedded.

"What do you think they look like?" Solid asked his sister as they walked into the common room of the base.

"Probably some stout man. Hunched over, wear's glasses. They're probably filthy too, I hear they sleep in their work spaces and never change their clothes." She had a small grin on her face as she described what all the rumors made the researchers out to be.

"And we have to work with someone like that?" Solid grimaced at the thought.

"Sorry to be such a burden."

All three of the Silver Eagles stopped half way through their common room when someone spoke up. A woman was sitting on one of their couches, she was dressed in clean nobles attire; a cream colored blouse with high waisted green shorts and thigh high boots. Her hair was a soft brown color and impossibly long with some sort of ear muffs wrapping around the back of her head. She looked right at home on their couch as she flipped through a paper another member must have left on the coffee table.

Nozel looked at her, then to the other present eagles who had moved off to a corner to be as far from her as they could. The look their Captain gave them was a silent demand of an explanation but many of them just shook their heads.

"Who do you think you are?" Solid approaches her first, glaring down at her as if she was a stain on their precious expensive seat. "This is the Silver Eagles base, not some common parlor for you to lounge in."

"I'm well aware." The woman did not look up from her paper. In fact, she crossed one leg over the other as she turned the page to continue reading.

"Why you-!" Solid looked ready to snatch it right from her hand but Nozel held an arm up to block his path.

"Are you the researcher Julius assigned to us?" Nozel had caught onto her earlier comment to his brother's words.

"That's correct." Was her simple response.

Something about her was bothering the Captain… and it wasn't just her rudeness. "What is your name?"

"Isn't it polite to introduce yourself first?"

Or maybe she was just testing her luck…

A vein started to ache in Nozel's jaw. "I highly doubt that is necessary, I'm certain you would know-"

She cut him off with a flurry of the newspaper before folding it back up and setting it on the table. "Are we not Strangers?"

"I beg your pardon?" The two younger Silva's glanced at each other before taking a step back from Nozel, as his tone was getting more irritated with each word.

The woman stood up and finally looked at Nozel, she was short, probably around five feet. And for a split moment he was caught off by her eyes. Her gaze was intense but their color is what confused him the most, her irises were peach in color and he swore her pupils were white. "I don't think we've ever met before. A proper knight, and gentleman, introduces himself to a Lady first before asking for her name."

Was his woman really the one he was going to be stuck with the entire time they were here? Who did she think she was, she dressed like a noble and spoke like a noble. But more about her reminded him of a foreigner.

Sucking in a slow breath Nozel composed himself. Best to stay calm and on good terms with her, even if she was lower than him. He doubted he could simply replace her if she had been hand picked by Julius for this task.

"Nozel Silva, head of house Silva and Captain of the Silver Eagles." He begrudgingly relented.

The woman gave him a curtsy, despite not wearing a skirt. "Briar Rose. I go by Briar, and am the Magic Researcher assigned to the Silver Eagles until further notice. Please take care of me."

Despite her attitude she seemed to have some tact…

"Is this a joke?" Solid interjected.

The woman glanced up. Her expression like stone, completely unreadable as the younger Silva now had her attention.

"I don't understand." She responded simply.

"Brother we can't honestly be taking this woman, can't we change her out for someone else?"

"Solid…" Nozel sighed. As if he had already thought of that…

"Now that I look at you…" Nebra brought a hand up to her mouth as her eyes flicked over the other woman's form. "I don't see a grimoire anywhere on you."

Nozel's eyes quickly shot up and down. He probably hadn't noticed before because a Grimoire was something almost every adult had. It would be silly to just assume you had to look for it first. But as he stared at her he didn't see a book or a holster for one. Rather she seemed to have some kind of dagger strapped to the back of her waist.

"Of course you wouldn't." Briar looked back at Nebra as if she was the fool. "I don't have one."

"What?" The eagles looked shocked. To think there was another being like that Loud mouthed bull? And so much older in age, how had no one ever heard of this woman before?

"Send her back brother!" Solid demanded as he turned to Nozel. "She doesn't know her place and will only slow us down! If we have to have some left over mage- no you're not even a mage are you." Briar's face remained unchanged despite Solids biting words. "Exchange her for someone who could actually defend themselves, I don't want to babysit some magicless freak."

He spoke of her as if she was some broken toy he wanted to give back.

"Is that your only issue with me?" She gave a slight tilt of her head and Solid jolted suddenly. The look in her eyes had changed to a more predatory one, like he was being sized up for a hunt.

"What-" he tried to speak but Briar took a step forward into his space.

"If that is all then I can prove to you I'm not some defenseless babe in need of your guard." Her eyes were intense with the shadows cast over them as she stared him down.

Her head whipped to Nozel, who remained unmovinging during the whole encounter. "Do you have a training ground here in your base?"

"Of course we do." As if the Silver eagles wouldn't have one of the best spaces to spar with magic.

"Then please…" she glared down at Solid who looked angrier and more determined to put her in her place. "Lead the way."

#black clover #black clover oc #nozel silva #nozel x oc #black clover anime #black clover nozel #black clover fanfiction #silver season #oc: briar rose

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dolce-peach · 2 years

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Hi! I loved your soft & honeyed obi-wan fic, and was wondering if I could request another for him? Maybe him & the reader have the same dynamic they did in soft & honeyed. Obi-wan and the reader have just come back from a brutal mission where they lost a lot of men, and it's really negatively affecting the reader. Obi-wan notices how depressed the reader is and goes to comfort her, maybe some cuddles or something sweet like that?? I've been having a bit of a rough time recently and would love to see how Obi-wan would comfort the reader during a depressive episode. No worries at all if this is too heavy of a request, I appreciate you taking the time to read this & for writing all of your works. I love them & you! <3

stay

pairing: obi-wan kenobi x jedi!reader

warnings: violence, death, grief

a/n: so this took a little longer than expected -- so sorry about that, anon! 🥲 i’ve been out of the country this entire month and also had a nasty cold (also could've been covid shhhhhh) -- also i’m so sorry you’ve been feeling that way 😔 sending all my love! also apologies bc you can tell that i’m obviously touch starved 🙃 hope you like it!! 🥰💗

permanent taglist: @kaitlynmalikisnotonfire @just-another-loki-fangirl

** TO MAKE A REQUEST -- please check the status in my bio **

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The plan was simple with very little room for error, as it always was. It was one of Obi-Wan’s secret talents, as you discovered over the years of partnering up for missions.

It fascinated you to see how his mind worked in high pressure situations. You noticed he often stationed you somewhere near him on the front lines. He took into account everything that could possibly go wrong. You appreciated that he wasn’t overly demonstrative about his need to protect you. Your eyes often found his anyway, even across the battlefield.

His priority was you as well as the mission.

If all went well, you and your entire squad of clones would be home before supper.

“That is all,” Obi-Wan said, concluding the makeshift briefing in the cruiser’s cargo hanger. “Cody, how soon can you get your men in the air?”

The clone commander stood tall. “Fifteen minutes, General Kenobi.”

“You have ten,” Obi-Wan said. “We’ll want to have the element of surprise on our side.”

“Understood,” Cody replied with a nod, turning towards his team. “You heard the General! Wings up in ten!”

“Yes, sir!”

As the clones dispersed, you found yourself tightening your wrist gauntlets. You weren’t surprised when you recognized the pair of boots that stopped in front of you.

Obi-Wan’s gloved hands lay themselves on top of yours. “Allow me.” There was a small twinkle in his eyes.

You couldn’t help but smile. “What would I do without you?”

He chuckled as he easily tightened your gauntlets, casually checking the rest of your armor while he was at it. “In your defense, this armor isn’t intuitive,” he pointed out.

He took your hands and helped you into your gloves, the leather of his brushing against your skin.

You hummed. “Maybe there’ll be a day where we won’t have to wear these anymore.”

“If we complete today’s mission, we’ll be one step closer to that day,” he told you, as he always did.

“What are we waiting for then?” you joked, brushing a bit of his hair away from his face. “I’ll see you later?”

His eyes fluttered at your touch, selfishly relishing in your presence for one more moment more before nodding, his expression hardening. “May the Force be with you.”

You echoed his words before running off to your own ship. You glanced back briefly and flashed a smile.

It was all you could do before boarding your fighter.

In a way, it comforted you, to pretend like everything was okay in the midst of everything falling apart. You were sure it probably put Obi-Wan at ease. Maybe that was a bit of a guilty thought you had, but in the end, it really only put off the inevitable.

You knew your body was due for another breakdown at some point, but as your cockpit closed over your head and your ship launched into space, you knew it couldn’t be today.

You had a job to do, a duty to fulfill.

As you sliced the last battle droid with your saber, you took a moment to catch your breath.

Just because the plan was simple didn’t mean it was going to be a cakewalk. Part of you didn’t even want to turn around to see the aftermath of the small battle that ended up occurring. You were sure most of your squad had fallen. The lack of the sound of their boots only confirmed that.

“General!”

Hearing Cody’s voice gave you some relief.

“Commander,” you greeted. “Where’s General Kenobi?”

“Securing the last of the throne room,” he replied. “I was ordered to take the men I have left and see if you needed help.”

You glanced over your shoulder and couldn’t help but look away immediately. There was no question that your entire squad had fallen, their white armor almost glowing in the light that fell through what few windows there were in the room. Their bodies were strewn, decorated in their blood.

“My men...” you trailed off.

Cody beat you to it, already ordering what medic clones he had to start surveying for wounded soldiers.

You fell to your knees. How could this have happened? You were sure you were taking most of the heavy fire, deflecting blasts elsewhere. There had to be someone.

Anyone.

You could scarcely recognize Obi-Wan kneeling before you. His gloved fingers hooked gently under your chin, raising your face to examine you.

There were tears blurring your eyes. He bore concern in his face as he stroked your cheek.

“No one,” you breathed. “There’s no one left. They’re all...they’re all dead...”

“You don’t know that. We’ll check --”

“I do know!” you snapped. “You feel it as I do! Their spirits. Their life. Their Force, gone!”

At seeing Obi-Wan stagger back, your eyes were wide with horror as you covered your mouth. Stop talking! Stop thinking.

Stop living.

He called your name, cautiously taking your hand. “Breathe,” came the soft command.

“I can’t!” you sobbed uncontrollably.

“Just try,” he insisted, cupping your cheek. “Look at me.”

Your lower lip trembled as you followed his voice, gazing deeply into his ocean eyes. His thumb rubbed away grime and oil caked into your skin.

“There, that’s it,” he praised. “Their deaths are not your fault. Remember that.” His eyes reflected your sadness.

You leaned your head into his chest. “I want to go home.”

You felt his chest rise. “Me too,” he said as he caressed your head, holding you close.

You had no strength left in your body. It was a miracle you made it back to the star cruiser. With the help of Obi-Wan, who made no complaints while carrying you, you were able to get what rest you could in your quarters, away from prying eyes and grieving men.

Nothing could ever comfort you for your losses this time. You knew they were clones, men bred for war, but as the years went by, you couldn’t help but form friendships. They had your back, always.

As you sat still on your bed, still in your roughed robes, you glanced outside your window, to the infinite stars.

The door to your room slid open. Obi-Wan walked in with a tray of food. Sensing your silence, he set the food on your table before sitting down next to you with a heavy sigh.

“You should eat something,” he said.

“I think I just want to sleep,” you admitted tiredly.

He nodded, his lips pursed in a small smile. “Then sleep.”

You sighed as you leaned back, collapsing into your sheets. Closing your eyes, you could already feel yourself giving in to sleep.

The only thing barely keeping you conscious was Obi-Wan gently removing your boots and setting them neatly to the side.

He paused for a moment before removing your belt. You rolled over, so he could slip you out of your robes more easily. His fingers occasionally grazed your skin. Physical intimacy with you two was an unfamiliar thing, but it didn’t change the fact that you felt incredibly comfortable with each other. Obi-Wan had seen you in your most vulnerable states. He knew when you were guarded, and this wasn’t one of those moments.

On the other hand, he was harder to read. You eventually learned every expression and nuance his face had to offer, with the way his eyebrows were furrowed deeply or the way his hand always found his beard when he was deep in thought. You memorized every shade of blue his eyes had to offer.

Eventually you opened your eyes, seeing his eyes on you in quiet observation. You sat up, saddling his lap before you undressed him. It was your way of begging him not to leave.

“Better?” he asked quietly while watching you fold his robes neatly before setting them on the chair. His callused fingers brushed against your collarbone. You slowly hugged him.

“Yeah,” you whispered in his ear. “You?”

He hummed in affirmation. “Always so concerned about others before yourself,” he pointed out. “What can I do for you?”

You wanted to have him kiss you, hold you, take you in every way known to man. You wanted his skin against yours, holding you so close and so tight that you might disappear. You wanted him to make you forget your sadness.

You could never tell him that, to use you so you could use him. Part of you knew he’d never forgive you for that either.

For now, you could do with this.

“Stay.”

You felt his laugh rumble from his chest to yours. “Lay down then.”

You scooted back, letting your head hit the pillow. He lay down next to you, wrapping an arm around your waist. Letting his body spoon yours, you held his hand to your chest, interweaving your fingers in his. You placed a tentative kiss against his knuckles, and he responded by brushing his lips against your neck, breathing in your scent.

The sensation tickled you. “I should shower,” you said, trying to get out of bed. “I probably smell like oil and sweat.”

He refused to let you move. “Stay,” he murmured. “Rest.”

Feeling him pull you close to him sheltered you. You exhaled slowly, trying to force yourself to relax.

“You’re okay,” he breathed, as if hearing your troubled mind. “You’re safe. I won’t let anything happen to you.”

You turned until you were facing him, stroking his cheek. “How can you be so sure?” you whispered. “Our time is finite anyway. My men may have been clones, but they all had lives, personalities of their own. I was the only one with the power to save them, and I couldn’t in the end.”

“How would I be able to live with myself if I didn’t try?”

In the moment you gave a weak smile whilst gazing into his eyes, you knew you were safe. He meant those words, as much as you hated to admit, and as much as it went against what the two of you stood for. But in that moment, you forgot about protocols and duty.

His arms were all you could focus on, his body pressed close against you, skin on skin. His sweet musk dulled your senses as the warmth that radiated from his body sedated you. You ran your fingers along his chest, creating constellations through his freckles. His rough fingers squeezed the skin of your hips with every changing direction, making your breathing unsteady in the best of ways.

As he cradled you close in his chest, he stroked your hair. “None of it was your fault,” he said. “You understand that, right?”

“Obi-Wan...” you trailed off in warning as you pulled back, sitting up.

He took your hand. “It wasn’t your fault.”

Tears welled in your eyes. No matter how many times he said it, there would always be a part of you that would never believe him. Your grief would never think of letting you off the hook that easily.

You could see his eyes widen as you tried to hold back your tears. Wiping your eyes in haste, sobs shook your body. “I’m sorry...”

He gave you a sad smile. “What are you sorry for?” he said gently. “You have nothing to apologize for. I know it, my men know it, and your men know it.”

You shook your head as he wiped your tears. “You and I have responsibilities. I don’t want to keep you here, General.”

“General, now?” he lightly mused. “You’re exhausted,” he said, laying you down again. “Just try to sleep, alright?”

“Will you leave?”

He settled next to you. “No,” he said. “And we’ll talk about it when you’re ready.”

You leaned forward, pressing your lips against his in silent thanks.

You never realized when you fell asleep, but you woke up a few hours later, thanks to a nightmare. Much to your relief, Obi-Wan still slept beside you, his breath steady.

Your fingers found a home caressing his cheek with the lightest touch. Peace never left his face as he slept, almost making him look younger. If it weren’t for his beard, he’d probably still have his boyish look. It was one of the only signs that he lived in a world where he had to age too quickly, being thrown into something he never wanted to be part of.

When he stirred, you froze. He murmured something in his sleepy haze.

“It’s okay,” you hushed him. “Just sleep.”

His brow relaxed once more, the growing crease on his forehead disappearing instantly. You carefully repositioned yourself so your head lay on his chest.

Then you heard it. Steady thumps of his heart in your ear.

He was alive.

You bit your lip as tears welled up again. You never knew a simple heartbeat, something one wouldn’t ever think to listen to, would bring you so much relief.

You had to protect it at all costs. Even though you knew such thinking was deeply rooted in the dark side, what was wrong with protecting what you loved?

#anon #anonymous #obi wan kenobi #obi wan kenobi x reader #obi wan #obi wan x reader #kenobi x reader #ewan mcgregor #ewan mcgregor x reader #obi wan kenobi fanfiction #obi wan fanfiction #star wars fanfiction #reader insert #fluff #angst #kenobi series #clone wars #requests open #sad hours 🥲

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thephantomcasebook · 1 year

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Strangers

Okay, but think on it, if you will.

Criston and Daeron are discussing something light hearted - father and son moment. However, when Daeron opens the door to his and Alicent's apartments they find Alicent posing with her feet out and Larys Masturbating.

Immediately, going from a look of horror from Alicent to Larys quickly trying to ... put himself away - Criston goes into a feral rage. He starts beating the shit out of Larys while Alicent and Daeron watch. Alicent tells her son and sworn shield to do something ... but Daeron doesn't. Then, she begs in tears ... and finally, looking as if going against all his instincts, he sighs, rips her hands off his arm as if she is filthy, and goes in.

Daeron restrains Criston as Larys is left bleeding and half dead by the fireplace where the Lord Commander was about to stick his face into the fire. They struggle for a moment, till the closest thing to a true born son he will ever have cups the back of his head and tells him to look at him ... to stop - he has to stop now. Then, When Criston is momentarily pacified Daeron orders the guards to 'Get this slime out of here!" to which they drag Larys away.

Then, for the first time, Criston and Alicent have a knock down and drag out argument. Alicent is defensive and cutting - reeling at being caught doing something that she truly despises with all her soul. With haughty words she tells Criston that she didn't ask him to put her on a pedestal, to think of her as he does. That he is nothing more than a Kingsguard knight, the Lord Commander. That she isn't his wife or his lover ... she is his queen! Then, in response, Criston rips off his white cloak and throws it before her feet and walks out. Daeron then leaves to, cutting Alicent when he shrugs out her reach saying in disgust "Don't touch me!" as if she was the most disgusting thing he's ever seen.

When they're gone, and she's alone, Alicent breaks down into painful feral sobs, clutching Criston's cloak and burying her face into it.

Later, when Aemond is planning his Offensive, Criston refuses to look, answer, nor even acknowledge Alicent. Throughout the Council the Queen keeps picking at her fingers as she stares longingly at Ser Criston across the map table. When they agree about Aemond being overly brash, it looks to physically pain him. And when the Green Council is dismissed, Criston treats Alicent cold and unfeeling when she tries to corner him for a private word, to apologize.

Later as the Main Green Army is making to leave for the Riverlands, Alicent sees them off. Once more - out of habit - Alicent waits for Ser Criston to ask for her favor to wear into battle ... but he does not. She stands at a balcony in height with his mounted form. And she bids him farewell with a deep and emotional kiss upon his forehead - whispering that he would always be her champion whether he wears her favor or not ... for he already bears her heart wherever he goes. But still he says nothing only "I wish you luck in the wars to come, Your Grace." coldly as spurs his white horse out the gate followed by the royal standard and it's guard.

This is the last time they'll see one another.

Later, at Harrenhal, Alys tries to seduce him, but even then, after everything, though he is sorely tempted, he still upholds his vow to his queen of whom he still loves with all his heart. And when they learn that King's Landing has fallen, Ser Criston does not hesitate once to rally what is left of their men to make a suicide rush to the Red Keep to rescue Alicent ...

Fore he is and will always be her champion.

And at the Butcher's Ball the last thing he hears in Alicent calling his name. And the last thing he sees is her in her green silk gown on the night that he tried to kill himself. She smiles and holds her hand out for him to take.

And he takes it.

youtube

#House of the Dragon #Alicent Hightower #Criston Cole #Alicole #alicent x criston #Youtube

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construingseacats · 6 months

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Umireread: Legend of the Golden Witch - Chapter 12: Occult

Sun, Oct 5 1986 - 1:00PM

The following contains spoilers for the entirety of Umineko. Please do not read if you are yet to finish it.

Off to an interesting start here. No-one put up a stink about this? After we spent so long talking about how the servants are some of the most likely culprits, and potentially in on it together, we just let the 3 of them go off by themselves to make food?

I suppose there’s a mix of “we’re hungry and we want to eat” and no-one wanting to be left alone with them, but still, it kind of feels like we skipped over a scene here. If you’re going to be thorough everywhere else, it feels weird to not be thorough here.

Funny to see Kumasawa drop the mask here. Yeah, the two of them were real busy last night, in the early hours of the morning. Honestly this is one of the most incriminating things we’ve seen so far, I’m surprised more people don’t pick up on it. Does the given story of what they’ve been doing this morning really justify how tired Genji and Kanon are?

This is actually a weird scene as well - after the nods to their part in the first twilight, they start talking about the case as if they weren’t involved? They don’t really have a reason to have this discussion in reality, and it’s also weird to think of it as a fantasy scene, since it’s just pure misdirection for the sake of it.

Ah, okay, Battler shows up - so we’re firmly in reality, and this was a conversation they were indeed having. I don’t know, this still feels really off to me - either they were doing this on the chance that someone showed up, which seems overly orchestrated, or they somehow heard someone coming, which wasn’t particularly choreographed to us. Like, I suppose the former could apply - there’s no downside to not doing it, in the same way that you have nothing to lose by shouting “I know you can hear me” while in an empty room - but the whole thing just feels too contrived to me.

Just highlighting this before I put it in a nice box and leave it to the side for one moment. Don’t worry about it.

(While I can scroll back the text when I want to revisit something, I sure can’t do the same for portraits. Apologies - maybe I’ll go back and re-grab all these screens once I unlock chapter select after Episode 4, but no promises.)

This is quite the line for Battler to be saying while standing next to Kanon.

I like this little ploy here - even if it doesn’t really amount to anything, especially since Battler can’t actually die until the end, it would be startlingly effective otherwise in disproving the omniscience of the culprit. If Natsuhi hadn’t left the charm in such an obvious place that it was discovered upon entering the room, Episode 1 would have fallen apart (although I suppose then you could make the argument that the charm had to be left on the door to work, but at that point you’re stuck on the defensive).

Another one of the big lines from Episode 1 I’d say - heavy statement of the premise. I’d say this is like a rallying cry of arguments across the entire internet, but let’s be real, most arguments are about trying to force your beliefs on someone else.

So I haven’t really talked about “The North Wind and the Sun” yet, even though it’s been alluded to a few times. Umineko does draw on it quite a bit, pushing the parable and the moral of… Well, what’s written above.

At this point, I’m wondering if the main significance of the parable’s presence is a reflection of the writing itself. The North Wind and the Sun are not blowing and shining on any characters, but on the reader themselves. Because of how Umineko layers the deductive reasoning from the characters, letting you walk alongside them and be guided by their thoughts, you’re more likely to go along with the misdirection than challenge it when it’s given to you as immutable fact. I suppose in that sense, removing the coat in the parable is a negative thing - a sign that you’ve been influenced by others to do what you otherwise wouldn’t. There’s probably a little more to this line of thinking that would be best suited to having a proper reflection and rumination about it rather than pseudo-ramblings resulting from a live commentary.

I read this line, moved on, then immediately started making whooping noises and had to go back immediately.

Are we going into the gender commentary this early? Glad to see Umineko saying trans rights already.

Anyway - this section isn’t a perfect 1:1 reflection of transgender topics and growing up with a desire to be different from what you were born as, but the seeds are absolutely here, primed for nurturing later down the line. Having been almost entirely oblivious to the gender dialogue on my initial readthrough, I’m very excited to see it explored this time around, given how personal the topic is to me now.

The section talking about adults looking down on kids because of their lack of experience is very fun. At 17, I remember reading this and going “Yeah! That’s exactly right!”, while still viewing myself through the lens of being so intelligent and mature for my age. At 27, it still holds up entirely accurately, and I can confidently look at my 17 year old self and call them an idiot.

The conversation at large does seem to mostly be an exposition dump trying to justify Maria’s identity split, but it’s not too bad since Ryukishi’s done a good job of giving all the cousins some lines that carry the conversation while also clearly representing their personality. Like, George definitely leans the most into textbook regurgitation, but it’s still done in a way that feels natural for him. I’m still not entirely convinced on the justification of Maria switching to creepy girl on a dime, but it doesn’t necessarily ruin the story for me at this point.

There’s the social worker side of Ryukishi coming out. Mildly ironic to say given the conversation we’ve just had, but that’s absolutely spoken from experience.

Eva once again going heavy on the offensive.

I do wonder if Eva and Hideyoshi were filled in on Kinzo being dead, or whether they’re just doing this on their own whims. I could see either being the case, depending on how much Yasu wanted to reveal to them.

Okay yeah, as this scene goes on, definitely leaning towards them having been informed of Kinzo’s prior death. Pretty clever gambit to implicate Natsuhi outright - although, of course, the whole thing falls foul of Eva being trustworthy here. She could easily be lying about seeing the receipt fall from the same place (or falling at all - I’d have to double check Natsuhi’s exact words to see how much leeway Eva has here).

Chalk another one up for the Natsuhi suffering arc. She’s not even allowed to keep her pep talk that she gave herself in the study.

Yeah that seals the deal, Eva absolutely knows about Kinzo dying a couple years ago.

I do have a morbid curiosity to see the fragment where the answer to this question is “yes”, immediately followed by gunfire.

The overly aggressive strategy starts to backfire here. Again, if this were a social deduction game, Eva would be ridiculously suspicious from how hard she’s trying to pin it on other people.

And scene.

Despite being one of the longer chapters, there’s not an awful lot to analyse here honestly - this chapter leans a lot more into the mystery side of things, and while that’s still interesting to read (and what first time readers are mostly here for), there’s not a lot of points worth dissecting and delving deeper into. Of course, that’s just from my perspective - I have no doubt that other people have dug deep into this and found interesting nuggets of subtext that I can’t even conceive of.

#umireread #umineko #umineko spoilers

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minsungotp · 2 months

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Minsung fanfic Want so bad

Ch 1 handsome at first sight

Han yawned, he had stayed up with three racha making a beat. The group had a lot of creative ideas and he couldn't wait for them to be released to the public. Bangchans tablet was the secret garden where every beat went. There were so many that it made his head spin just thinking about it. Many of them didn't even have lyrics written yet!

That man was a machine he just ate slept and breathed producing. The other two members had mad respect for him. He was almost like a dad of two kids. Changbin and Han kept him on his toes.

Laughing to himself, Han made his way up the stairs and crashed into someone.

he was a boy with a defined jawline and shaggy hair that reminded him of a chocolate lab for some reason.

Han you're seriously weird. He scolded himself. What kind of person compared a man to an actual dog?

"Sorry, didn't see you there." The boy bowed his head quickly in respect.

Han blinked, his social anxiety threatening to burst. He quickly brushed his hair out of his face. A welcome distraction from how he was feeling. He forced himself to interact with the stranger.

"No need for that. Uh I'm Han."

The stranger smiled brightly. "Seungmin."

Han felt uncomfortable about Seungmin bowing to him especially when he looked his age! No need for special treatment about that.

Seungmin tried to bow again but Han sighed in embarrassment.

"Really there's no need. I think we're the same." He protested. Wow this guy is way too polite! He wasn't used to it.

Seungmin suddenly seemed to become more defensive. Straightening up. "Well maybe we're not." He shot back. Han was unfazed by the annoyance in the strangers eyes.

Han shrugged. He wasn't the kind of person to feed into it so instead he simply replied. "17. You?"

Seungmin stopped. His shoulders remained stiff but he managed an irritated apology.

Han felt an uncomfortable silence settling around them and offered to escort him to wherever he was going but he just rolled his eyes and hurried past.

Han blinked dumbfounded. Seungmin is the kind of person that gets fired up pretty easily isnt he?

Such a contrast from the overly polite persona that he displayed before.

Han shook his head and put his hands in his pockets continuing on his way.

He made it to the door at last.

He held a breath full of excitement.

Today was the day. Bangchan had revealed his plans to the other two members a while ago.

In order to debut his dream was to gather others into his training family. He had already hand picked 6 more people! The idea was crazy. Debuting with nine members sounded unheard of. Although it wasn't the first time a group was large it still felt surreal.

Technically speaking it was Possible that Bangchan had plans for a mini elimination ceremony but Han doubted that. Bangchan wasn't the type to give up on someone. Even when they didn't meet his expectations, he took the responsibility apon himself to fix the problem. The leader would just come up with ideas to help the other person thrive.

Such a cool guy. Han thought, placing a hand on the door knob. He was low key stalling. One step closer to debut. He reminded himself but swallowed.

I'm going to have to meet so many people at once. He groaned inwardly but pulled himself together. I have a duty as one of the producers. He took a deep breath , opening the door.

The first thing he noticed was how small the practice room had become, filled with boys of different height and build. Am I the only one feeling overwhelmed right now? He bit his lip to suffocate the anxiety rising in his throat. He swallowed it down.

Thankfully none of the other people were paying attention to him. They were all in their own personal stretching routine. Han let out a breath that he had been holding in. They haven't even realized you're there. Changbin was in the corner. The rapper was already talking to a boy with a bright smile and many freckles scattered across his face.

He didn't want to interrupt the conversation so he scanned the crowd wondering who to talk to. He couldn't just stay standing awkwardly in the middle of the room forever. unfortunately.

His eyes widened when he recognized the boy from the hallway and against his better judgment he made his way over to him. At least Seungmin was some what familiar.

They made eye contact and Han cringed inwardly. "Hey uh man. What a Coincidence." He looked at the floor remembering that fierce look in the boys eyes before.

When Seungmin spoke it was oddly cheerful.

"oh you were picked too? That's great! Now I have a familiar face."

Han tried to hide his surprise. Well he's apparently not upset anymore. That fact made him relax a bit more.

"Picked? Yeah quite a while ago. The leader joined when he was 13."

Seungmins mouth dropped. "He's been here for so many years! Why hasn't he debuted?" He sounded taken aback.

Han shrugged Bangchan really deserved to debut he had so many talents and good qualities. But maybe Han was just biased towards the groups unofficial dad of the year.

"Ask JYP." He offered. Seungmin immediately rejected the idea. "No way! He is so intimidating. How do you think he would react if I just went up to him and said ; hey boomer choose your priorities your choices freakin suck!"

Han shuddered in the idea of such a confrontation. But couldn't hide his amusement at the other's contagious energy.

Han murmured agreement.

"Do you know anyone else in here?" He asked and Seungmin nodded.

"Sort of. I met most of them when we got here. They seem nice enough." He nodded.

Han side eyed him loudly. "That's a relief." He felt himself teasing Seungmin.

Seungmin ducked his head in embarrassment.

"Ah sorry about that. I get irritated pretty quickly." He sighed. "But I cheer up in no time." He reassured.

Han nodded. "I noticed. It caught me so off guard!"

Seungmin chuckled and Han decided to scan the room once more.

Wow that guy looks like an actual prince! His almond eyes and long hair made him stand out visually. He should be starring in a kdrama right now!

He let his gaze travel farther. it was at that moment that he was sure he had spotted the groups new visual.

Who's that? He blinked in awe.

The boy was fit but not super skinny. Enough to make every dance move fluid and connected. Han watched the boy mesmerized. There was just something about him that drew him in. He had beads of sweat on his forehead and he slicked back his hair with one move of his hand, taking a sip of water before continuing.

This man was incredibly handsome with dark eyes and super defined features. Each part of his face seemed carved out of marble, so clear and striking with eyes that pierced the soul. It made his heart beat quicken. until that moment Han had thought he would be the most attractive person in the room. Boy was he wrong!

"That's Lee Minho." Seungmin answered, apparently Han had asked out loud. He blushed having been caught.

Lee Minho? that's so... cute.

"He's pretty shy. Apparently he is supposed to be an old backup dancer for BTS." He sounded impressed.

Han gaped. "Wow seriously? That's amazing." His eyes grew round with a sudden fascination for Minho. And he's also an introvert? Jackpot!

Just then a man walked in. A man he knew quite well.

It was none other than the great leader himself, Bangchan.

"Hello everyone!" He greeted in a thick accent. Even though they were in Korea, the aussie roots ran deep.

The boys paid no notice to his presence. He cleared his throat.

Behind Bangchan was a short boy with shaggy hair. He seemed extremely self conscious.

Han thought the room was already claustrophobic but two more people had now joined. Dang how am I going to survive?

"Come on everyone let's welcome our fellow members."

He finally managed to get these children's attention.

The young boy bowed unnecessarily long.

"This is Yang jeongin." Everyone stared.

"He's our maknae."

As soon as the words left his mouth Seungmin piped up. "Aw what a cute little guy. Age?"

Yang jeongin blushed at all the attention.

Bangchan encouraged him to speak.

"I'm 16. I'll be going to school still. I'm sorry we're late it's my fault." He bowed again.

Bangchan chuckled lightheartedly. "Kid there's no need to be nervous okay. I'll take care of you. All of you."

An unspoken respect rippled among the boys. It was clear he meant it.

Han smiled. He could see that Bangchan had helped this boy find the way here. He had sacrificed his own schedule to make sure they could all be here. Han was sure without a doubt they would all be cared for.

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itsnothingofinterest · 4 years

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PLF Advisor Headcanons (’cause why not)

So I’ve been thinking a lot about the PLF advisors, probably more than I should be about characters we barely have faces of. All of this stuff’s probably gonna get flushed down the drain sooner rather than later, and I have been meaning to start actually posting stuff on this site. Might as well share, am I right?

I’m sure I shouldn’t need to tell anyone this at present, but just to be safe, or in case of future readers: the latest chapter was 276 & we know next to nothing about any of these guys except Slidin’ Go, so most of is baseless conjecture. Most of it mine, but I’ll source where I’ve borrowed some ideas. The closest thing to a basis for any of these is “this is probably the kind of quirk I could see someone in this position having” & “these motives and backgrounds sound like what Horikoshi would give to a long-term ally of Shigaraki”. We clear? Everybody got their proper expectations in place? Cool, now let’s get to the fun bits.

Black (Tactics)

Twice Advisor #3 (PLF Granny)

I won’t lie, I’m organizing this list this way to talk about her first.

Contrary to her appearance, PLF Granny actually used to be a super dangerous criminal and wanted hero killer, before disappearing off the face of the country (see Spinner Advisor #3 for more on that).

Now she’s the PLF’s resident mother/grandmother figure (depending on how old you are).

(She’s secretly not that old though.)

Always willing to help a fellow PLF soldier out of a problem no matter how minor, but would also lecture them for the smallest misbehavior.

Greatly appreciated because not a lot of high ranking PLF members have the greatest motherly figures in their lives rn.

Her quirk is something like Overhaul’s, but a bit weaker and a bit more gruesome. She can fully manipulate any human body she’s touching besides her own; allowing her to close up wounds, lock up muscles, contort limbs, or even just blow you up.

Illegally experimenting with her quirk caused her to accidentally kill someone in her youth, and she’s been on the run ever since.

She’s working with the PLF to improve quirk counseling, believing a society more accepting of quirks would allow kids with dangerous quirks to understand them better & know how to use them safely, so none of them will end up like herself.

Twice Advisor # 2 (Scary Canadian)

“Scary Canadian” really sums up his personality. He’s actually quite nice and polite to hid friends & allies, or otherwise in his downtime. But also you really don’t want to mess with him. Or else.

Needless to say, he and Twice got a long real quick once the underlying tension of their 2 groups going to war had (mostly) passed.

His quirk (along with a funky entire-upper-torso) allows him to energize himself with stored up energy, making him a bit strong, faster, and tougher.

He can also use a lot of energy at once for laser eyes. A useful skill, but it usually puts him out of the fight afterwords.

The energy stores up during sleep, which means he sleeps for an extra few hours each night and leaves him uncharacteristically grumpy in the morning.

He can also build up energy while awake, but it leaves him lethargic so he doesn’t do it while he has paper work to do.

He never wanted to be a hero as a kid, but as he grew older he found that meant people didn't like him using his quirk so much.

He joined the MLA for the simple reason of his experiences making him feel quirks should just be treated as a normal part of a person, instead of an aspect only heroes should be allowed to use/acknowledge.

Twice Advisor # 1 (King Bradly looking guy)

You remember in chapter 258, they mentioned a guy named Sanctum; oldest member in the MLA and believing all the League members are just in puppet positions? This is him.

He doesn’t really mean to come across as that unapproachable & rude, but he finds making sure everyone takes their jobs seriously is more important than being friendly.

As a result, while he & Twice come at odds quite often, they actually work quite well together. He keeps Twice on track and Twice appreciates that.

Much like Yotsubashi, his family has been in the Liberation Army for generations. Their cause is all he’s even known, but he has no regrets, especially now that Shigaraki’s livened the cause up.

I used to headcanon this guy’s quirk as making portals, but that might be someone else’s quirk no so...Earthbending, his quirk is earthbending.

He’s pretty good with it to, what with training with it since he was a little kid. The amount he can move is between that of Pixie-Bob & Gigantomachia, but he outshines them both in control.

He could make a perfectly square, finely-detailed hall a foot underground and no one above it would even feel the earth shifting.

Violet (Guerrilla Warfare)

Dabi Advisor # 3 (Ana)

So most of this is borrowed from @possessedfuzzybear

To catch everyone up: he’s named Ana (which means ‘hole’), he’s Dabi’s emo friend, and his hair is neon green.

See their blog for more info, but be warned: Fuzzy is horny AF. 18+ only, understand children?

His quirk has already been shown: It’s either making holes in stuff, or possibly making portals.

Needless to say, he and Dabi combo well together.

When he was a kid, one of his parents were arrested by heroes and he ended up running away from home before he got put in the system. He ended up meeting PLF Granny and some other runaways, and when she joined the MLA, he followed along.

He wasn’t originally a very active member, but when he saw the perks PLF Granny was getting for her hard work, and more importantly that she was spending those perks on himself and the other runaways; he started going above and beyond to earn his room & board.

Dabi Advisor # 2 (Tube Face)

Another emo of the PLF, which is probably why he’s with Dabi. That said, he’s less close to Dabi because he’s the exact same kind of loner as Dabi was before he got put in charge of stuff. So they resonate with each other, but they don’t exactly talk.

This guy’s quirk is that he has a snake for a tongue; full-sized and it talks in place of his normal mouth.

That’s actually what the tube is for, it’s snake armor.

(2nd guess, and this probably more likely if I’m honest, is some kind of gas quirk. if that’s true though, he’s related to Mustard.)

His story is a typical one; ostracized for having a particularly freaky mutant quirk that, while impressive, went unappreciated outside of heroics. Perhaps he even tried to become a hero, but dropped out, and the Japanese school system is yet another harsh mistress of society.

Either way, he then joined the biggest game in town that’s trying to make quirks more accepted, so he and kids like him can be appreciated instead of ridiculed.

Dabi Advisor # 1 (Happy with his piercings)

This guy’s something like Muscular without quite so many murders; generally just happy to be here doing whatever we’re doing as long as he gets to use his quirk to do it.

Dabi puts on airs of hating him, but really he...mostly doesn’t.

His quirk is actually super speed, which he combos with his impressive muscles to be quite the lightning bruiser.

That said, he’s not that fast. Like, he is to the flash, what Sato Rikido is to All Might. Probably somewhere between Iida before and after Recipro Burst.

His motivations are, as stated, pretty similar to why Muscular joined the League, except this guy looked into a slightly more legitimate organization because we was looking to legalize the freedom he was after, rather than simply ignoring legality in general.

He’s not exactly opposed to Shigaraki’s methods though.

Geten Advisor #3 (Pointy Head)

My first though looking at this guy is “His color is Blue”.

Generally, the suit and mouth armor make me think he either has or had ties to big business or heroics. Let’s go with the latter.

He was a humble but fairly accomplished hero, or maybe even just a sidekick, when he took down some socially powerful villain the HC didn't exactly want him taking down.

He and his entire Agency were indirectly ruined, and so joined the MLA in hopes of continuing to help people in their own way. Happily for him, that turned out to be fighting against the HC.

His quirk is a simple one: enhanced sight, hearing, and basically all his senses, as well as the ability to process it all very quickly.

To combos this with his swordsmanship to deadly effect.

Having the title of “advisor”, he tends to give lots of advise to Geten (regardless of if it’s wanted), looks out for him, and generally ignores that fact that Geten is his superior, not subordinate.

Geten Advisor # 2 (Sweater Lady)

The PLF Wine Aunt. And she introduces herself like that to people too.

She’s brash but wise, tends to look out for everyone in the PLF when she can, but also shares just a few of Geten’s more worrying views on quirks.

So guys like Dabi & Spinner think there might be hope for her if they can get her to knock that prejudice stuff out, and actually have good reason to think they can, but generally steer clear of her when possible.

Her quirk is something powerful, but disfiguring to her face. My current favorite idea being breathing out a gaseous neurotoxin or something to that effect that makes her mouth look weird.

Her sweater actually hides a series of soft but sturdy tubes that expel the neurotoxin from her arms, because she can aim her arms better than her head.

Her reasons for being in the MLA are basically that with a lack of social changes in the advent of quirks, standards of beauty are as BS as ever for women, even as women like her get weird mutations to their bodies, and especially to the head.

She believes a society more accepting of quirks would be more willing to accept mutations as beautiful, although this has eventually developed into a complex about powerful quirks being beautiful in order to convince herself of her own worth.

Hence everyone’s belief that maybe they can fix that complex of hers once they build a more accepting society. (That and, y’know, they have to work with her anyway.)

Geten Advisor # 1 (Stressed Baldy)

Probably one of the most welcoming advisors to the League because due to this quirk, this man generally ties to say cheerful at all times.

You see: his quirk is tied to his emotions. All of his emotions. Only by not feeling anything in particular, like in the picture above, does it not activate.

That’s actually why he’s in the PLF, he finds in unreasonable that those with hair trigger quirks like himself be forced to not use those quirks in public or face criminal charges.

Well actually, he’s also from an MLA family like Yotsubashi, but his ancestor joined for the same reason; so he’s probably the person born into the MLA with the best reason for still being there.

Ah, but I didn’t explain the quirk itself, what he does depends on what emotions he’s currently feeling.

When Happy, or otherwise feeling positively towards himself: a barrier forms around him right above his skin & clothing. While in this barrier, hits to him are diminished, and his own hits hit harder.

When sad, fearful, or other such emotions: that barrier disappears from around him and instead forms around his allies.

When angry, or otherwise directing negative emotions outward: the barriers appear around his enemies, and then lock in place so they cannot move. They also can’t be hurt in this state, but he can work around that.

Carmine (Intelligence)

Toga Advisor # 3 (Muscular tank top guy)

The reason he’s in the Intelligence regiment has little to do with his quirk, and a lot to do with his charismatic and friendly personalty. He get’s a lot done just going out and talking to people, and he teaches his subordinates how to do the same.

His quirk is simple x-ray vision. Nothing all that special, but he has learned to use it well in a fight, seeing how the opponent moves like a certain Jojo stand from part 6.

He was also a part of PLF Granny’s group of runaways who joined the MLA when she did. No particularly dramatic reason why, he was just broke & unlucky and she was just nice.

Before they joined the MLA, he did stuff like convince bakeries to give their left over product to the kids at the end of the day.

They ended up joining shortly before the MLA really started making it’s resurgence, so he made a name for himself helping out the new guys. And since everyone was already looking up to him, the higher-ups gave him a good position to keep doing that.

That’s his job with Toga too, introducing her to the ins and outs of the PLF. They also tend to talk romance and cute things (like I said above, he’s good at talking to people), so they get along pretty well despite underlying tension.

He finds her crushes on multiple enemies worrisome though, for multiple reasons, and is trying to build up the nerve to talk to her about that.

Toga Advisor # 2 (R2D2 Expy)

Little can we tell from the above picture, that’s just his head (and extremely long neck). He has a torso and such below.

His quirk is actually being a cyborg, and most of his body is augmentable.

He has multiple weapons he can attach and detach from himself and automatically control like any other limb.

It wares on him to attach to much to himself though, so he won’t be augmenting himself with any large equipment.

The R2D2 head is a disguise he wears to PLF meetings, and he intends for it to be his official villain outfit once he hits the field.

It’s not his only look though. He has numerous faces and various identities to go with them. It’s how he joined the Intelligence division.

He’s a Star Was fan (obvs).

Toga doesn’t talk to him much, what with him not being very cute. He mostly takes care of managerial tasks with his underlings, and organizes reports for her.

He also works at Feel Good Inc., & only really joined the MLA because he was invited by his boss, Skeptic. He got a promotion out of it and still feels like he’s on the winning side though, so he’s not complaining.

Toga Advisor # 1 (Beautiful Woman)

The advisor Toga most depends on, this woman tends to do all the work Toga’s less than qualified to handle as a 17-year old.

Frankly, Toga kind of looks up to her as a powerful feminine figure in her life, especially since she’s largely not quirkiest (like Sweater Lady), and her past is pretty similar to Toga’s but she managed to bounce back into a powerful position.

Her quirk is the ability to read minds in short snippets by making eye contact with people, usually whatever they’re thinking of in that moment..

It’s not perfect because people can sort of feel ‘something’ when she reads their minds, so people who know what she’s doing can just look away. It’s pretty easy to not look someone in the eye.

Giran caught on pretty quick when he was being held hostage.

She pretended to be quirkless to her friends and repressed it well into adulthood, until her quirk was discovered. At that point, not only did people stop trusting her, she was accused of illegal quirk usage and pursued by the police. This was when she found and joined the MLA.

Skeptic Advisor # 3 (Toad Man)

This guy radiates the best and worst of redneck culture, kinda gross, more than a bit judgy; but also inventive, Integrous, and always willing to throw down with corrupt authority figures.

(That said, he’s toned down the prejudice stuff working with so many different people and also Toga threatening him with knives.)

He’s also good at talking to the marginalized and those out in the boonies, which essentially means he’s got an underworld information network all his own, which is half of how he got his position in the Intelligence regiment. In fact, for better or worse, he’s the one who found Giran.

The other half is his quirk; which is, along with general toad-like characteristics, the ability to temporarily eat anything he can fit in that big ol’ gullet of his and analyze it down the the barest physical detail. (”physical” meaning he could find a finger print on a gun and draw it out, but couldn’t read the data on a memory stick.)

His reasons for being in the PLF are simple: like I said, he’s just always willing to throw down with authority figures. He doesn’t care that his quirk isn’t for fighting, he’ll just punch every HC member in the face.

Actually, he’s even more invested now that Shigaraki’s in charge. He wasn’t really feeling the MLA before, but now he’s gung ho about the cause like few others.

Skeptic Advisor # 2 (Ugh...Slidin’ Go)

Being a well known character, there’s not that much to say.

Hmm...

His reasoning for joining the MLA is surprisingly simple: he feels society’s view on quirks is too simple; praising flashy quirks while also forbidding non-heroes from using them where possible, all for the convenience of heroes and the hero industry.

Being so attached to his quirk, he entered into heroics in order to get a quirk licence, but still felt this thought process was backwards and joined the MLA to turn it around.

He’s responsible for a lot of the heroes in the MLA, having found a lot of like minded people in his industry and got them into the Army. A lot of them were actually old classmates of his.

Skeptic Advisor # 1 (Beautiful Man)

The half-brother of Beautiful Woman, he joined because she invited him and he wanted to help her. Not only because she was family, but because he was responsible for her quirk being discovered & he feels he needs to make up for accidentally making her a wanted woman.

He’s not a wanted criminal, so he got a job at Feel Good Inc. and works closely with Skeptic as a sort of secretary that reminds him of his personal affairs.

(In reality though, he manages contact with the MLA/PLF while Skeptic is running his company.)

He gets along with Skeptic as well as anyone can with that personality. Way better than Slidin’ Go anyway.

This quirk is a form of telepathy like Mandalay. There are 3 differences though. 1) he or a part of him must be touching the person to communicate, which he gets around by making bracelets & other accessories with strands of his hair that can be pressed against the wearer’s skin. On the other hand, 2) it’s got no range limit and 3) allows for 2 way communication.

And on one last note: he can always tell who he’s talking too, as well as who might be trying (& failing) to listen in.

Essentially, he’s a hack-proof human communications network, able to pass along information from key PLF members to each other and Skeptic, who can relay the information to other members through more mundane means.

It’s a good back-up for if heroes try jamming or otherwise interfering with those mundane communication methods.

Brown (Support)

Mr. Compress Advisor # 3 (Compress Cosplayer)

The mask is actually new, and actually kind of is Compress cosplay. when he met Compress they just kind of resonated with each other, and Compress decided to make him his apprentice.

It’s only been a few months, but he took to showmanship quite well. And now everyone else around him hates him. Dude just can’t win.

His quirk is basically being living hammer space; he can store things in his body like Momo in reverse & pull them out like Momo in forward.

The catch is that his whole body looks something like an astral CGI monstrosity; his skin is this gelatinous looking goop patterned like space that caused him to be bullied growing up.

Though his past is similar to Sweater lady, his motives are actually more like Spinner’s: living a lonely life, he kind of just joined the first cause that resonated with him in the hope of finding meaning.

He has yet to really find that yet, but at least he found a hobby & a good number of good friends.

Mr. Compress Advisor # 2 (Natsuo’s happier doppelganger)

A popular base commander, this guy has made a name for himself in the PLF for his managerial skills. He takes care of his people, completes his jobs promptly, and is generally pretty intelligent when it comes to resource management.

His job as an advisor is less stellar though. Except for reports, he tends to leave Compress to himself and/or his other advisors. Compress has tried to talk to him but he made fun of the magician act once and now they keep their distance.

He probably has one of the peatiest reasons for being in the PLF among the advisors & lieutenants.

You see, his quirk is that he’s able to make or dismiss a kind of wooden golem to do what he wants, and he often had it do menial labor for him.

That said, while it’s legal for him to do that in private settings, it’s actually illegal in public, and people have gotten on his case about that since he was a kid. What’s more, the reprimands got worse & worse the older he got, so eventually he got sick of it and joined the MLA.

Yeah, he’s part of a terrorist group because it’s illegal to use his quirk to carry his groceries for him.

Mr. Compress Advisor # 1 (Electric Scar Face)

Another descendant of a mainstay family in the MLA, he was actually a friend of Yotsubashi growing up. They’ve drifted a bit in adulthood since he isn’t exactly the business type, but they still work closely enough and keep in touch.

That’s actually most of the reason he’s not exactly on board with Shigaraki being in charge now. He only really heard 2nd hand about what happened in Daika, and he’s pretty biased in favor of the old boss.

All that said, he & Compress probably have one of the most stable lieutenant/advisor relationships; agreeable enough, healthy but minimal disagreements, actually pretty similar humor & they’ve both got good heads on their shoulders with just more than a hint of eccentricity.

We already know his quirk, absorbing and discharging Electricity.

Spinner Advisor # 3 (Cementos’ long lost cousin)

While not actually related to Cementos (probably), I’ve actually grown attached to the idea that he went to UA himself, so here’ the continuation of PLF Granny’s story I promised.

So one day, while working on his internship, he ended up pursuing a wanted hero killer, who he found out was just an old lady who lost control of her quirk and has been panicking ever since. He realized she needed help, but for her crimes she’d surely be sent to Tartarus for life (which is a redundant statement), so he decided to leave professional heroism behind to help her disappear, as well as help her in general.

In the process, they came across a good number of other runaways, and when the MLA agreed to shelter them in exchange for labor and generally joining the cause, they agreed.

As an advisor, he has a good professional relationship with Spinner, and they often discuss what they believe heroes should really be like and the failings of their current iterations. As such, he’s ended up growing to the idea of Shigaraki as presented to him by Spinner.

His quirk is the ability to turn into a large whale like creature that’s able to move large numbers of forces in it’s mouth through the water. I think it’d be cool if it could move through the ground too, but that might overlap with Machia.

He’s also able to produce and shoot spikes from his skin in either form to defend himself.

He’d probably get along with/relate to Kurogiri if he’s ended up getting some of Shirakumo’s memories by the time he escapes.

Spinner Advisor # 2 (Edgy Spider Guy)

(Just a reminder for those who only remember this guy from the above picture, he was shown to have spider legs in a later chapter.)

Spinner’s gamer buddy among the advisors, as well as the main supporter for his crusade of eliminating mutation prejudice.

Having a spider quirk, no surprise he was bullied in school only to be harassed and marginalized in adulthood. He eventually got a job at Detnarat, and was personally invited into the MLA by Yotsubashi himself.

Along with the extra spider limbs, he can also produce especially strong spider silk, which he can then telekinetically control while close to it. He does’t produce it at a very quick rate, but he’s been able to sew it into his cloak to move it, letting him increase his speed and pull off a few other neat tricks.

The main downside though is a particularly freaky face, which he’s developed a complex about. Thus why he hides his face. He’s got friends working with him about it though.

That said, he’ll probably still keep the cloak after he overcomes this complex because it’s cool.

Spinner Advisor # 1 (Cute Bug Girl)

The last of PLF Granny’s old runaway gang among the advisors.

(there are still others, but they have much smaller rolls, if any.)

She joined after losing her parents to an altercation with the CRC. (Y’know, the Klan looking freaks.)

Her personality is something like a transitioning point between a high school alpha bitch and a wine aunt. Mainly because she looks to sweater lady from Geten’s group as something of a roll model (unfortunately).

Her relationship with her boss, Spinner, is rather tense as a result. She looks down on him for his quirk (though she’s tactful enough to not mention this), but relates to his hardships as a Mutant. As a result, she looks out for him more than she looks down on him, but she’s still kind of waiting for him to prove himself.

Her quirk is the ability to create & control tiny insects about the size of fairy flies (<3mm in length) in vast swarms.

These bugs move pretty silently, so they can act as a fog, fly into people’s mouths and attack them there, or fly into wounds to either stitch them closed or make them worse.

While she doesn’t have an actual PHD, she was trained by several doctors hired by the MLA for many years to make the best of her quirk, and is now the director of the PLF’s medical units, except for small, personal medial units in the other regiments.

General stuff

Just to be clear, though I describe most of these guys & gals relatively nicely, most all of these guys probably have more confirmed kills under their belt than Twice.

(Granted, that’s partially because Twice doesn’t really confirm his kills. We only know of 2, including the guy he murdered after he was himself murdered. But that still means everyone here has killed several people.)

Each of these guys have their own base to watch over, you’ll remember, and part of their responsibilities is either recruiting or eliminating people who learn too much.

Each of them has the job of easing their subordinates into going along with the new leadership, especially the people who weren’t there for Daika. This is kind of tricky because they were also not there for Daika, so they’ve been required to talk with the League members a lot.

It’s helped encourage them to get to know the new management relatively well.

Side note: I’m also willing to bet Trumpet & Redestro have their own regiment; probably an undercover or public relations regiment, and probably have 6 advisors for themselves too. I’m excited to meet them.

And despite how much work I put into all this, I’m also excited to see just how much of it is wrong as we meet these guys for real.

#bnha #league of villains #lov #PLF #paranormal liberation front #twice #dabi #geten #toga himiko #bnha skeptic #spinner #mr. compress #headcanons #I apologize if I come across as overly defensive #my only other experience talking in social media is YouTube comments #still #be gentle I'm new to actually posting stuff

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samstree · 3 years

Text

and the wolf was nowhere to be found (1/3)

In which Jaskier chooses to lie, until he can no longer tell the truth.

(lying spell/potion, cursed jaskier, geralt apologizes, post mountain, miscommunication, rated teen, read on AO3)

A big thanks to @wanderlust-t and @a-kind-of-merry-war for the prompt! <3

The reverse trope series: [1] [2] [3] [4]

“You are gonna run after him again, just like that? Don’t you remember what he did to you? What you went through?”

Essi leans against the doorframe, her arms crossed in front of her chest, watching as Jaskier packs a second bag.

“Come one, poppet. Geralt was having a hard time back then, and now he’s come all the way to Oxenfurt to apologize.

“So what?”

“So I’m forgiving him.”

She grumbles a few rude words regarding the witcher’s lineage.

“Hey! That’s not nice.”

“And this is way too easy! Why can’t you see a disaster waiting to happen until it hits you in the face?” Essi exclaims. “Do you know what I would have done? I would make him grovel! Give him the cold shoulder. Or…or at least play it cool for a while longer so he knows not to take you for granted again! Sorry, but I’m…not like you.”

“Um…excuse you. I am plenty cool!”

“There’s nothing cool about being utterly in love and then getting cast aside over and over again, Jaskier. You know that.”

Jaskier sighs, walks to Essi and pulls her into a tight hug, all his scattered doublets ignored.

“I’m going to be okay,” he tries to tuck her curls away from her eyes but fails.

“Are you?” When she pulls back, there’s something inscrutable in those blue eyes, the curtain of blonde hair obscuring her emotions. “When you came down from the mountain, the way you couldn’t even … I don’t know. I just need to make sure it won’t happen again.”

“It—” Jaskier opens his mouth to make an easy promise, but finds the words choking in his throat. “I, um—”

Essi squeezes him on the shoulder. “He’s apologized, profusely from what you told me, and he’s being nice now. He will certainly be nice for a while, but what happens after he wins you back? What’s preventing him from hurting you again?”

Jaskier has no answers for her, so he resorts to giving her another hug.

“At least, think about my cold shoulder tactic. Sometimes people need the reminder, just so they know what they can easily lose.”

“Essi—”

“Think about it.”

She presses a small kiss on Jaskier’s cheek and leaves him to his packing. Outside the window comes the familiar sound of Roache’s hooves, clicking against the cobblestone.

Jaskier straightens his tunic and lets out a heave. He can see Geralt is being good now, friendly even, after all these years of denying their friendship. Now, the witcher is even waiting downstairs to begin their next journey.

Essi is just being overly protective, Jaskier decides.

He winds down the stairs and finds Geralt cooing at Roach. The urge to melt in those golden amber eyes is overwhelming.

“We good?” Geralt takes Jaskier’s bags and secures them on Roach, side by side with his saddlebags.

“Good,” Jaskier lies.

---

The truth is, Jaskier has heard of this so-called “cold shoulder” tactic. He’s even contemplated it for longer than he’s willing to admit. Every time Geralt dismissed him as a friend, brushed him off, Jaskier couldn’t help but want to retaliate with equal measure.

What if he’s the one to give Geralt a time-out? What if when Geralt tells him to fuck off, he just…leaves? The same idea churned in Jaskier’s stomach for two decades, but in the end, he knows the answer—he can never bring himself to go through it. His feet would carry him back to Geralt before even taking a step away.

He was left anyway.

But now…

Jaskier can’t afford to be left again. Essi was right. He isn’t sure if he can pick himself up again. He barely managed it the first time.

Jaskier lets out an audible scoff as he comes to the realization. He’s going to do it. The cold shoulder tactic. It’s so cheesy that it feels like something only school girls would use to get attention from a crush. Keep your distance, string him along a little. That’s how you get him to notice you exist—

“Something funny?” Geralt turns on horseback, sunlight peaking through his silver hair, a curious frown between his brows. He’s towering, beautiful. He has always been the most beautiful person Jaskier knows, even if he doesn’t know it.

Jaskier strums an absent chord on his lute. “Just something Essi said.”

“Hmm.” Geralt nudges Roach forward. “I was thinking… You’ve never seen a basilisk, have you?”

“No?”

“There are rumors about a nest in the next town. Want to see it?”

A hint of smile hints at Geralt’s lips, and Jaskier’s heart almost leaps out of his throat. A basilisk hunt is one he’s been dying to watch for years, if not decades. He’s drooling with excitement just thinking about the ballad that will certainly sweep the continent off its feet.

“Of course I want—" The sentence stops in its tracks. Jaskier bites his tongue to hide the slip. “You know what, I think I’ll stay in town. This new song needs some polishing before its debut. I’m sure a big witcher such as yourself doesn’t need a bard’s moral support for a meager basilisk, right?”

Jaskier adds a wink for good measure, but Geralt is not amused. He’s staring from his vantage point, his expression inexplicable. Is it really so shocking that Jaskier will turn Geralt down this once, after all this time?

“I understand.” Geralt pauses before continuing, almost too carefully. “Perhaps I can help? Sing it for me tonight?”

“Sing it…for you?” Jaskier asks, dumbfounded. The lute in his hands suddenly feels a lot weightier than it is.

“You wanted my review for so long, Jaskier. I’m giving it to you now. I’m sure your playing will be…nice.”

Geralt looks at him with hope in his eyes, and Jaskier can’t help but let his ego grow a little. It’s unbelievable that a simple refusal is what got Geralt to finally say anything positive about his music. The tiny triumph fills his chest with unexpected giddiness.

“Maybe I will. We shall see,” he replies. His fingers strike another chord.

Jaskier feels a spring in his steps, urging him forward to the mare’s steady gait. Golden amber eyes are burning a hole into his back, but he doesn’t dare to look back lest the tiny bubble of this perfect moment break.

---

Night falls, and Jaskier scribbles down another line. The door opens and Geralt drags his feet into their shared room.

Jaskier makes no effort to get up.

Once upon a time, he would have raced across the room to greet Geralt, checked for injuries and fussed over any scrapes and cuts, all the while getting dismissed with the witcher’s grumbled words. He’d help remove those heavy armors when Geralt’s muscles ache from exhaustion and get ichor all over himself.

He will not do that tonight.

Play it cool, Essi’s words echo in his memory. Right, he’s doing things differently now.

Jaskier fixes his gaze on the notebook in his lap and listens as Geralt shuffles around the room, putting everything back in place. One by one, his armor pieces drop in the corner of the room.

“How was it?” he asks with the most nonchalant tone as if he’s just noticed the other man’s existence.

“Fine. The basilisk’s dead.”

“Hmm.”

Jaskier chooses the single hum uncharacteristically as Geralt puts his swords against the doorframe and sits down on the single chair.

He’s so still, hovering even.

“What?” Jaskier finally looks at him. Geralt, as he claimed, looks fine, with only a smudge of a black ichor sticking to his hair. A frown appears between his brows.

Adorable.

Jaskier shakes the thought quickly.

“Your new song?” Geralt prompts.

“Oh yeah. Never mind. I don’t feel like singing.”

It’s another lie. A necessary one, Jaskier tells himself.

“You,” Geralt says, raising an eyebrow, “don’t feel like singing?”

Jaskier clutches the notebook to his chest almost defensively, not sure what to do with the accusation. Is it a tragedy that Geralt knows him like the back of his hand? Or is it a shame that Jaskier is indeed buzzing with excitement to test out this song, with the most important person in his life?

“Well, I don’t.”

Jaskier keeps his chin up and scrambles off the bed to put away his books and pens. Geralt’s intent gaze is on his back again.

“Twenty years, and I’ve never known you to turn down an opportunity to sing.”

“I guess you don’t know me that well,” Jaskier bites back with a force that seems to come out of nowhere. “The bard may not want to entertain all the time, darling.”

The endearment sounds false, more like a jab. He lets out a dry chuckle and hopes to ease the tension but to no avail. Geralt’s eyes are wide with surprise. So Jaskier reaches for his bedroll as a distraction, but only serves to make the confusion deepen on Geralt’s face.

“What are you doing?”

Jaskier lays it by the fire, on the soft rug that magically seems clean enough. It should be self-explanatory, but apparently not because Geralt is still staring quizzically.

“Sleeping.”

Geralt looks at the double bed and then back at Jaskier. “On the floor?”

“Thought I’d give you the space. I know how keyed up you are after the potions.”

Jaskier can feel his heart pounding in his chest, the nervous energy buzzing as more words he doesn’t mean comes out of his mouth. He crosses his legs on the bedroll and pulls the blanket onto his lap to hide from Geralt’s scrutiny. But then, something dawns on Geralt’s face.

“Jaskier…” Geralt rubs his forehead, his face pinched. “What I said in Oxenfurt, I meant it.”

“You do?”

“You can count on me now. It won’t be like…before.”

Their gazes meet, and Jaskier bears the intensity of it with everything he has. He feels bare, seen through by the amber gold he’s missed and cursed and loved so much.

“I’m here, and I’m all here, Jaskier. Please believe in me.”

“I do.”

It’s not the truth despite how much he wants to believe it. Jaskier wonders if lying to Geralt ever becomes easier.

He doesn’t know what is not convincing him. Geralt looks so genuine, and Jaskier wants more than anything to trust him again, but the smile on his face feels too stiff.

The plan is going as Jaskier wanted. He’s showing Geralt that his friendship doesn’t come freely anymore, and the witcher needs to make more effort, meet him halfway, somehow. Then how come as the quiet night creeps in, Jaskier only finds a hollow space in his chest?

The roaring fire in the hearth warms his back, but Jaskier clutches his blanket tighter. It can’t stave off the coldness left by the lack of a witcher’s body by his side.

---

Jaskier continues with the same scheme the next day.

Ignoring Geralt is not a difficult task in the beginning. The barmaid is a beautiful thing, doe-eyed and curious, has too many questions for her own good. She keeps asking about Jaskier’s ballads, and wouldn’t quite believe any crazy stories in them.

“Is it true that the White Wolf fought a sea serpent on the Skellige Isles? Surely, those creatures only exist in legends!”

She’s getting familiar, pressed up against Jaskier on the bench, almost pushing him back into Geralt’s side—the real subject of the topic, but it’s obvious her fascination lies only in Jaskier. Her brown eyes stay on the bard alone.

“Why don’t we find somewhere more private and I’ll tell you all about it?”

“Is it a good one? It must be a heroic tale, isn’t it?”

“Heroic, of course. There’s also a twist. I won’t spoil it for you, but—” Jaskier winks, his fingers brushing past her wrist. “—it’s a love story that holds more heartbreak than you can bear.”

Her giggles are like soft wind chimes, and Jaskier guides her away from their table. He takes two steps and turns back, smacking himself on the head as if he’s only just thought of it.

“Oh, shoot! I know I promised to go the market with you, Geralt, but you see…” He gestures to the girl waiting expectantly in the near distance. There’s nothing I can do about it, he says with a shrug. “Have a good time, will you?”

Geralt is holding his tankard, his knuckles white and his face ice-cold. It’s like Jaskier is looking at one of those ice sculptures made by Oxenfurt’s art students every winter.

“You said you’d come.”

Geralt’s voice is so gentle, so full of dejection that Jaskier’s resolve almost breaks. He clears his throat and darts his eyes elsewhere. Those acting coaches back in school would have been disappointed in him for letting his emotions peak through, but Geralt doesn’t seem to notice what’s underneath this front.

“Surely you can find a new bridle for Roach by yourself,” Jaskier waves his hand in dismissal. “You are a big witcher.”

Geralt opens his mouth and closes it, before speaking again. “And the pastry shop you wanted to visit?”

Jaskier thinks of the lemon cakes he’s been itching to try and swallows the yearning in his throat. Gods, being with Geralt all day with not a care in the world, and with the best sweets on the continent. What is he doing turning all this down?

“Well,” he insists, “Better company comes before cake, my dear.”

With that, Geralt lets go of the topic. His amber eyes drop back to the half-finished ale. “Better company. I see…”

“Surely you understand, Geralt.”

“Just—” Geralt purses his lips in an attempt at a smile. “Don’t exaggerate too much.”

Jaskier should feel bad as he walks out the tavern door with a beauty on his arm, he should, but instead, a pang of anger rises in his throat. How many times did Geralt abandon him at the sight of Yennefer in the past few years? How long did he brood on top of that mountain, recounting every bad choice he’d made in his life and decided that it was all Jaskier’s doing?

For once, Jaskier doesn’t want to put Geralt first in everything, waiting for a bone thrown in his direction, and the witcher—this infuriating man—is going to act like a kicked puppy.

Horrified at this burning rage, Jaskier turns only to watch helplessly as Geralt walks down the street in the opposite direction. He’s planted to the spot, unable to chase Geralt down, and clueless as to whether this plan is doing him any favors other than the fleeting satisfaction of getting back at his friend who was at fault.

Was.

Geralt was at fault. Jaskier has forgiven him, or at least, that’s what he said at first sight of his witcher’s travel-weary face back in Oxenfurt.

And yet, he’s punishing him still.

The barmaid is still waiting for Jaskier’s stories, her cheeks still round with a timid blush and her eyes gleaming with expectations.

The colorful adventures taste stale on his tongue and she loses interest too quickly before returning to her post. His mood sours further as the day stretches on.

Jaskier ends up wandering around town without an aim in mind. The only place he’s carefully avoiding is the market, and the stable, and the smith’s shop. Anywhere he might bump into Geralt. When night draws in, a sudden downpour catches him off guard and drenches him from inside out.

Great. Just the perfect ending to the worst—well, the second worst day of Jaskier’s life.

Candles are still lit as Jaskier enters the room. He finds Geralt fast asleep already, and on the table, right next to his writing supplies, is a lemon cake.

It’s drizzled in honey and looks just as enticing as he imagined.

Jaskier picks it up and finds a lump forming in his throat, choking him with guilt. He wants to scream, to let out the frustration at all the mistakes made in the past and haunting him still. He wants to cry. It’s just…

Now, he doesn’t know if he still deserves to.

---

Okay, I know I'm being mean to Geralt here, but don't worry, I’ gonna be mean to Jaskier in the next one ;)

Also, whatever Jaskier is doing here is very unhealthy. Don't try this at home.

Tagging: @rockysstupidity @flowercrown-bard @alllthequeenshorses @mothmanismyuncle @percy-jackson-is-sexy- @constantlytiredpigeon @behonesthowsmysinging @kitcatkim3

Please feel free to tell me if you want to be removed or added to the list <3

#geraskier #geraskier fic #geralt x jaskier #jaskier being an idiot #geralt apologizes #mutual pining #miscommunication #cursed jaskier #jaskier whump #reverse trope #lying spell

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miekasa · 3 years

Text

out of the woods (eren jaeger)

↯ pairing: eren jaeger x reader

↯ genres and warnings: royalty au (not within the snk universe), knight/bodyguard au, friends? to lovers? implied? perhaps? maybe one day, but eren’s obviously in love with you lol, sorry i had to make jean the token little shit character but i love him

↯ notes: i spend a lot of time thinking about royalty aus in which the reader is in line for the throne and eren is her very impulsive, but very skilled personal guard because i love him

↯ word count: 1.5k

The harsh clinking of metal ringing in your ears is probably the only thing that keeps you from falling asleep in your chair. Eren’s always a bit fidgety when he’s completely suited, covered almost head to toe in armor and weaponry. It’s a bit excessive, too, which is why he’s not required to look like a walking chandelier on a regular basis, and especially not within castle walls—his normal uniform and longsword at his side in case of an unlikely emergency; but for meetings like these, Eren adorns all four layers of shiny, heavy, gold armor.

It’s more of a status symbol, decoration even, than for his or your own protection, really. And it’s his sly way of keeping you awake during long, drawn out civil duties meetings like these; he knows you hate the sound of all the metals clinking together, but it’s an effective way to making sure you don’t fall asleep face first on the table, and embarrass yourself in front of other royalty and noblemen.

Eren’s arguably a little too impulsive to be a knight, especially for one that stands at the right hand of the sole princess to the kingdom; and definitely the most mischievous of all the royal guards. And, as if to prove it, he shakes his wrist near your ear again when he sees you spacing out, prompting you to shake your head reflexively. He has to hold back his chuckle.

“Princess,” both yours and Eren’s attention shift to the voice that calls after you, “You seem a bit… distracted? Is anything the matter?”

The sound of Jean’s voice is enough to make Eren straighten his spine, his noisy wrist falling to rest his hand on your shoulder protectively. Eren feels you relax your shoulders under his touch, a silent message that he’s free to withdraw and do the same, but he stays sharp.

“My apologies, Jean,” you reply, voice kind and steady, “I have quite a bit on my plate, please pardon my absentmindedness.”

Jean hums, a cheshire grin growing on his lips, as his gaze settles on Eren, rather than you. Jean leans forward, the ruffled cravat around his neck tickling his chin as he brings his elbow onto the table, and his cheek to rest against his palm.

“Surely you’re in no immediate danger, princess,” Jean drawls, slowly, eyes now fixated on you, “Your guard dog can stand down in the presence of friends, no?”

Eren grits his teeth, growing more restless with every word that leaves Jean’s irritating mouth. The prick has the audacity to smirk when Eren’s free hand goes to rest against the sheath for his sword.

You, however, simply smile politely. The other men and women of the court are silent around the table; some eyes wide with anticipation, or perhaps anxiety, as the tension between Eren and Jean grows. You look slightly behind Jean, where Armin stands against the wall, his stance neutral, but his face concerned, with a look that speaks a thousand words—or, rather, twelve: tell Eren to relax, or there will be a bloody royal murder.

Carefully, you bend your own arm back, as to place your palm atop Eren’s hand still resting on your shoulder; then looking towards Jean: “Eren is my primary guard and advisor, Prince Jean, just as Marco is to you,” you state calmly, gesturing to the seat at Jean’s right, where Marco is seated, “He is by my side at all times.”

Eren knows that; and Jean knows it, too. He also knows this is a losing battle, but he wants to play, anyway.

“I understand, my lady, but surely there’s no need for Eren to be on guard for high-level threats at such a minuscule gathering,” Jean taunts, looking Eren in the eyes before continuing, “Besides, I’m sure a husband would provide much more civil protection, wouldn’t you agree?”

It takes you squeezing Eren’s hand with all your strength to get him to even think about refraining from unsheathing his sword and putting it through Jean’s head. He feels your orders, but it does nothing to calm him, though; angry, vengeful, green eyes boring into the prince’s soul.

Jean smirks, slips in another sly innuendo about he could please you better than any knight in your court, and Eren almost loses it. His right hand is on the handle of his sword, a glimmer of handcrafted gold peeking through its casing. His moves have the other knights on guard, too; Armin silently signaling for Mikasa to be careful, or ready.

“Eren,” you call, but you’re looking at Jean, “Stand down.”

You have to repeat your words twice more for them to get past Eren’s cloudy mind and growing growls. You squeeze his hand again, and reluctantly, he takes a step back—evens out his footing, removes his hand from your shoulder, lets go of his weapon. His stance is neutral at your right hand now, and the relief in the room is palpable. And audible from Armin, who lets out a sigh; he can rest now, knowing that the foreign prince won’t be beheaded.

With a similar sigh, you stand to address your other guests, “I believe a recess is in order. Mikasa will usher you to the ballroom for hors d’oeuvres and wine. We will reconvene at quarter to the hour.”

The noblemen, advisors, and other royalty nod in acknowledgement, moving to the exit as Mikasa leads them through the castle corridors and into the appropriate room. Prince Jean falls behind the rest, offering you and wink and a cocky grin before being pulled by Marco. Armin is the last to exit, saluting you politely as his stands in the entryway.

“Would you like for some refreshments to be brought to you, princess?” he questions.

“You don’t have to be so formal when they’re not around, you know that,” you smile gently. Armin gapes, a light, embarrassed blush falling across his cheeks, “It’s fine, Armin. I’ll be there shortly.”

Armin nods, giving Eren a look, before finally exiting and following behind the crowd. When you’re alone, Eren finally speaks.

“I don’t like him.”

“I thought you and Armin were friends,” you joke, pushing yourself from out of your seat and standing next to him. Eren’s side-eye speaks a thousand words, but you find yourself chuckling in response.

“You promised me you’d work on that temper of yours,” you taunt, taking a few steps towards the door. Amused by his pouty demeanor, you extend your hand for Eren to hold like a child, “Come on, knights shouldn’t pout.”

Eren rolls his eyes, gingerly taking your hand, only to spin you around and wrap his arms around your middle. He fits his chin into the crook of your shoulder, “Knights shouldn’t have to justify wanting to murder asshole princes, either.”

“Jean means well,” you say, laughter seeping through your words at Eren’s evident disagreement with your statement. You reach a hand backwards to comb through his hair to quell his irritated state; an action well received, as the taller boy nuzzles his face deeper into your shoulder, his body finally fully relaxing, “He shouldn’t intentionally antagonize you, but he’s still a prince, Eren. You have to be careful.”

Eren huffs, and holds you a little tighter. “Him being a prince means nothing to me.”

“I’m serious,” you sigh, letting the hand in his hair fall down to your side, and then to rest atop his that are over your stomach, “You can’t be that hasty. Your actions could be seen as an attempt on royal blood by the wrong people.”

“And his words could be seen as harassment and defamation of the princess and her associates, in which case I am within my rights to attack, and you are within your rights to sue,” Eren counters.

He removes his hands from your waist, gently resting them on your shoulders to turn you to face him now. He’s got that stupid look on his face, the one he gets when he’s a little too overly confident, but Eren’s not dumb; he’s impulsive, and passionate, but he knows the law of your land like the back of his hand, particularly where it pertains to protecting you.

“And he did it while on your land. It would have been defense of the princess—precautionary knightsmanship, really—if I had sliced his head off.”

“Precautionary knightsmanship sounds made up,” you say, an eyebrow raised in suspicion.

“It’s real. It’s in the knight handbook, trust me,” Eren replies, leaning down to press a single kiss to your forehead. He removes his hands from your shoulders, stepping past you before turning back with one arm extended, “Come on, allow me to escort you to the tiny, not fulfilling, rich people finger foods.”

You chuckle, placing your smaller hand in his, “They’re called hors d’oeuvres, Eren.”

“That sounds even more ridiculous,” he notes, wrapping his fingers around your palm, “Just eat normal meals and portions like the rest of us.”

“You know, you’re allowed to eat the tiny, rich people finger foods, too.”

“I know,” Eren hums, turning his head as he begins to walk you in the direction of the ballroom, “But I’d rather have Jean’s head.”

#aot x reader #snk x reader #eren x reader #eren x you #aot fanfiction #snk fanfiction #eren fluff #eren smut #armin x reader #jean x reader #aot jean

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robotic-bakery · 2 years

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Ok so, in the tags of this reblogged post originally made by my lovely mutual @thomas-the-goat-of-satan (hope you don't mind I tagged you)I talked about how I wanted to go into some depth about the two sides of the fandom's treatment when it comes to miguel. We have group A who strip miguel of his wrongdoings and essentially put miguel on a pedestal and then group B who overly fixate on miguel's wrongdoings to a great extent.

I wanna get it out of the way by saying that these two mindsets are a perpetual cycle. We have Group A doubling down on their opinions when seeing how Group B treats miguel, and then the same happens with Group B when seeing how group A treats miguel.

Now that i've said that, let's cut to the chase; both of these aren't good because not only are the both a disservice to his character, but they both serve as a mean of dehumanizing miguel, even if they go about it in different ways. He isn't the first character to experience this, but what doesn't help is how he's cobra kai's most prominent and longest standing character of color.

When it comes to characters of color in media, they're often held to higher standards in fandoms which subjects them to higher amounts of criticism than their white counterparts which leads to perpetual cycles like the one miguel's in. This isn't to say they shouldn't be criticized, but they're often criticized for things to an extent their white counterparts don't face even on occasions when they (the white counterparts) have done equally bad or worse things.

One example that comes to mind is Jacob from twilight. He has done wrong things, but people put him onto higher standards than characters like edward, which reminds me of the time someone made a joke about him needing to be neutered. People had a problem with that because not only did it treat jacob like he's a dog, but Jacob is indigenous and indigenous people have a history of forced sterilization from colonizers. (Believe me, people have tried the defense for the former that jacob is a shifter or werewolf, but it didn't help considering the later problem people had)

Overall, both of groups A and B don't treat miguel for who he really is; a teenage character that doesn't fall into either of their perspectives. Miguel isn't a flawless angel, but that doesn't make him a horrible person either. Miguel has made bad choices that he should rightfully apologize for, but he is also someone who is learning from those bad choices and is growing as a result.

This post isn't made to directly change anyone's mind, in fact I doubt it happening. But hopefully, it'll get my point across when it comes to both mindsets of miguel.

#cobra kai #miguel diaz

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whoacanada · 3 years

Text

Zimmerbro AU

Summary: Andrew Phillip Rowe could skate before he could walk, and it wasn’t until he was almost twenty and well on his way to becoming a Las Vegas Ace before he knew why.

a/n: that’s right we’ve got a secret zimmermann brother au based on the fact that Bob was an active pro athlete for almost 15 years before Jack was born and almost definitely had relationships before Alicia. This particular one resulted in a secret love child.

When the call finally went out that year — a request for players willing to billet the incoming draftees — Andrew had been the first in line.

His already sparsely decorated guest room had been primed for a new tenant since he’d learned Las Vegas’ abysmal season had earned them the first pick of the 2009 draft. In his mind, Andrew had envisioned a tearful confession. A family reunion nineteen years in the making where he’d finally get a chance to connect with a half-brother he’d grown up learning about through news articles and stats pages.

He wasn’t ready for Jack to pull out of the draft days before the ceremony; wasn’t ready for the claims of an overdose or speculation about suicide attempts. He certainly wasn’t expecting to have to open his home to a young man with limp blonde hair and deep circles under his eyes with the same enthusiasm he’d promised he’d offer to a son of Bob Zimmermann.

Andrew was hoping for a little brother.

He got Kent Parson instead.

______

“You remind me of my boyfriend.” Kent slurs one night, completely gone on Johnny Walker Blue borrowed from Andrew’s wet bar. “It’s your . . . face.”

“Shouldn’t talk about things like that,” Andrew cautions gently, covering his own surprise. “Never know who might be listening.”

“Who fucking cares? He won’t talk to me,” Kent continues, ignoring him and sniffing like he’s on the verge of sobbing or puking, both options equally unwanted. “They wouldn’t tell me if he was even alive.”

Another unwanted puzzle piece locks into place.

“Jack?” Andrew suggests softly, and Kent begins to cry.

“You won’t tell right?”

Andrew shakes his head no, long enough for Kent’s bleary eyes to focus on the gesture and take it seriously.

Things are different, after that conversation. Not worse, or better, just different.

________

“He’s my brother.”

Andrew admits this one night, for no reason other than that he can.

Kent is across the room, backlit by lights from the Strip, his legs dangling off the arm of his favorite couch as he scrolls through his phone looking for distractions. Parse hasn’t lived with Andrew for almost two seasons, but he still turns up like a bad penny whenever he needs to commiserate with someone who knows his more lascivious secrets. Truthfully, Andrew’s grateful for the company. He’s a pretty genial guy, but he’s always kept his distance, a personality trait he likes to think he shares with an unassuming sibling, but there’s no way to know for sure. The farther Andrew gets from the 2009 Draft, the less faith he has in a reunion that won’t just bring crippling sorrow to everyone involved.

A secret Zimmermann son who actually made it in the NHL. Who has his name on the Stanley Cup, not once, but twice, largely thanks to the spitfire forward lounging in Andrew’s living room.

“Who’s your brother?” Kent asks, not looking up from his phone.

“Jack Zimmermann.”

Kent barks a laugh and rolls his head lazily to smirk at Andrew.

“That’s funny. I guess you kinda have the same chin. Was Marky digging for chirps?”

Andrew has no idea what that means, but he sets down his tablet and says, “No, he’s actually my half-brother. My mom dated Bad Bob in ’84 and got pregnant.”

The lackadaisical smile on Kent’s face falters as his gaze sharpens, like he’s actually looking at Andrew for the first time. Andrew responds by gesturing at himself lamely.

“That’s not funny.”

“No.” Andrew agrees. “It isn’t.”

Kent swings his feet down off the couch and braces himself against the overstuffed leather. He doesn’t look mad, but there’s something too close to disbelief for Andrew to convince himself everything’s okay. It takes a moment, but Kent must find what he’s looking for on Andrew’s face.

“Does Bob know?” Kent asks with that familiar overfamiliarity, as if they both still have some personal relationship with the living legend.

“Yeah. When Mom got pregnant she told him she didn’t want the attention since it was only a fling — ”

“Who the fuck doesn’t lock down Bob Zimmermann?” Kent breathes. “Also, why the fuck did she tell you that?”

“No shit, right? She got him to sign away parental rights, set up a trust, never spoke to him again as far as I know. I didn’t find out until after I signed with the Aces. She didn’t want me to get blindsided if it all came out, but the story never broke.”

“I mean, does Bob know who you are?” Kent questions. “Does Jack?”

Andrew shakes his head no, because he doesn’t think so, and Kent flops back against the cushions, face slack with disbelief; it doesn’t take long for his features to shift to anger.

“You knew this whole time and you didn’t tell me? Even after I told you —“

“Okay, there’s a whole-ass difference between you fucking dudes and and me being ‘Bad Bob’s bastard’,” Andrew bites, curtailing Kent’s imminent hissy fit. Appropriately, Kent closes his mouth, almost pouting.

“Fine. But that’s fucked.” Kent says after a loaded moment of silence. “I’m sorry you’re . . . you.”

“Yeah. I’m sorry you’re you, too.”

“You know Jack’s signing with the Falconers, right?” Kent offers like the worst kind of olive branch, unintentionally telling Andrew exactly what he was up to during that stretch of time between New England games a few months prior. “It’s not public but it’s happening. Ink’s dry.”

“I know. That’s why I told you. It’s gonna be weird,” Andrew swallows, thinking about playing Providence in the coming months.

“Fucking right it’s weird.”

_________

For the most part, the Las Vegas Aces are decent, stand up guys. Even with the accusations of gambling debts and mob connections with the ownership group, Andrew’s never been asked to hit a certain player a little too hard, or to take a dive so the other team gets a shot at a power play. A lot of talk, a lot of conspiracies, ‘Typical Aces hockey’, but there’s no malice. Not really.

Andrew thinks it’s hilarious he plays the game a lot like his estranged father, but he’s not a legend in the making, hell, at this point he’s barely regarded as more than a mid-level, reliable center that can bring home 40 points a season.

Carly whips behind Zimmermann’s back to clip his skate with a stick, dropping a ill advised chirp that sets every player in earshot on edge. Parse is close enough to catch the quiet slur, stiffening like he’s been hit, and Andrew watches Zimmermann recover quickly, steely and resolute.

Jack has his mother’s eyes — not the warm brown Andrew catches every time he looks in the mirror.

“He’s a fucking goon,” Andrew breathes, gliding up to Jack’s shoulder in lieu of an apology. Zimmermann doesn’t miss a beat, his gaze flicking to Andrew with the quiet rage of ‘who gives a fuck’. Andrew admires his commitment to the game. Coming back after so much, after so long, to willingly subject himself to the same kind of treatment that Andrew knows likely led to his original fall from grace.

“Hey,” Kent ducks his head as he slides up a little while later, mouthguard clenched between his teeth, and asks, “You see his twink?”

At Andrew’s obvious confusion, Kent jerks his head toward the glass behind the Falconers’ bench, to a raucous group of fans all sporting fresh Zimmermann jerseys. Andrew’s gaze drifts along the row of faces, lingering longer on the familiar, handsome couple beside the blonde young man. He may be imagining things — the stadium lights catching a bad angle — but for the briefest moment, Andrew holds eye contact with his father.

“He’s cute, right?” Kent says bitterly, like he doesn’t have a partner of his own back home.

“Yeah, he is. You gonna do anything about the slurs, Captain?” Andrew counters, earning a stern look from Parson.

“I’ll deal with Carly.”

“Oh, you will? Because I’ve never seen you shut him down before.”

“I’ll handle it.”

Kent’s expression goes stormy, and he gives Andrew a hard shove before skating off to set up for the next shift. To his credit, he does grab Carly by the arm and tell him something that earns a look of displeasure from the larger man, but Andrew knows a verbal warning won’t curtail someone as dead-set in his conservatism as Carly.

The next play, Carly flashes Andrew a toothy smile over the lineman’s shoulder, as if they’re in on the same joke, and his vision goes red.

__________

“Bad Bob’s outside,” Scraps rasps, like whatever brief interaction he’s just had has physically winded him. “He wants to talk to Flip.”

Andrew blinks up from the water bottle in his hands, previously concerned with the pink-stained gauze wrapped around his knuckles. A few of the guys start chirping, but most of them remain silent, still processing the fact that Andrew assaulted one of their own without clear motivation, in defense of an opponent.

“That’s what this was all about? You gunning for a trade?” Sorenson spits from his stall. “Needed to impress Bad Bob by beating the snot out of Carly?”

“Maybe I am,” Andrew sighs, pushing himself to his feet, wincing at the way his jaw aches from the few good hits Carly had managed to squeeze in before he went down. “What the fuck are you gonna do about it.”

_______

Andrew’s grateful he kept his skates on. He needs the boost of confidence that comes with the added height, especially when he finds Bob Zimmermann waiting patiently in the corridor like he’s just another staff member and not the second most recognizable figure in modern hockey.

“Hey kid,” Bob greets, casting an approving, overly-familiar eye over Andrew’s padded bulk and sweat-slick hair. “You can throw a hell of a punch. Don’t think I’ve ever seen a guy beat the piss out of a teammate before. Off ice, sure, but never during a game.”

His accent is just as thick in private as every interview Andrew’s ever caught live — but his tone is unexpectedly warm, even grateful — when Bob laughs at his own recounting of Andrew’s assault attempt, the sound is light and joyous like nothing in the world comes easier to this titan of a man.

Andrew wonders if Bob can recognize the chin they share beneath a his playoff beard; if there’s any resemblance left in a nose that’s been reset a half-dozen times.

Andrew grew up loved and never wanted for anything. His step-fathers, both of them, had been good men who never left him looking for a father figure. It wasn’t until his twenties that Andrew even realized there was hole where his bio-dad should have been, and not just a regular hole, a yawning sinkhole threatening to devour his entire sense of self, because his biological father turned out to be a man he grew up idolizing as a personal hero.

He’s not mad at his mother, but when Andrew struggles to find his voice — which is bullshit seeing as he’s almost thirty-five and a god-damned professional athlete — he can’t stop himself from feeling like a misplaced child.

“Do you,” Andrew swallows, looking over Bob’s shoulder to see if anyone’s watching them. Finding they’re alone, he rallies quietly, “Do you know who I am?”

Bob’s jovial expression softens into something remorseful, but unfathomably kind. “I do, buddy,” he acknowledges, somehow squeezing three decades of affection into one term of endearment. “I’ve known for some time, now. The whole time, actually.”

That hurts more than expected.

“Does your wife? Does Jack?”

Bob shakes his head, but it isn’t a hard no.

“Alicia knows, and Jack has some idea he’s got a half-brother, but it’s all in the abstract. No specifics. Definitely doesn’t know you play. I wanted to respect your privacy and your mother’s wishes. She let me know she’d told you the truth a few years back and I wanted to give you the space you needed if you decided to reach out. When you didn’t, well, a man makes assumptions.”

Andrew looks down at the concrete beneath his skates and sniffs hard, fighting nasal drip from the smelling salts he’d needed in the third period; or, at least, that’s what he tells himself. “I had a plan, back when — ” he stops himself, looking down at his skates. Bob’s eyebrows lift in curiosity, leaving room for Andrew to gather his thoughts, but he doesn’t take the bait, unable to bring up what could have been just yet. Bob seems to grasp the context after the moment.

“2009,” he acknowledges softly. “Hell of a year.”

“Yeah. It was. Is he okay?”

“What, Jack? He’s leagues ahead of where he was then —”

“No, I mean, tonight. Carly clipped him pretty hard before I got in there.”

“Oh, a little bruised up, but he’ll live. Are you?”

“Am I what?”

“Okay.”

Andrew looks down at his bandaged fist and realizes he’s completely forgotten how gnarly his face must look.

“Trainer says I’m alright, but I’m gonna get leveled with a wicked fine, I know it.”

“Was it worth it?” There’s a look of guilty pride on Bob’s face, like the man’s enjoying himself a little too much when he leans in and whispers, “You just did something I’ve wanted to do since Jack was in mites. Fucking lay out one of those fuckers that’s got nothing better to do than bitch because they can’t play,” there’s a moment of hesitation, as if he’s worried about pushing a boundary, before he adds, “How’d it feel to look out for your little brother?”

Pride, it turns out, in contagious, and Andrew feels like he could go back on the ice and do it all over again. “Pretty fucking great,” Andrew can’t help a smile, wincing when the gesture pulls at his split lip.

Bob slaps a hand on Andrew’s shoulder pads, then gets a grip on the back of his head, heedless of his sweaty hair.

“Crisse, you’re a fuckin’ beaut, kid. I’ve wanted to tell you that for years.”

Andrew can’t blame the smelling salts anymore.

__________

Jack clearly doesn’t see his father standing there with red-rimmed eyes, or Andrew in an equally unkempt state, and has no reason to think anything untoward has happened when he offers a handshake and pulls Andrew into a hug, bouncing his free fist off the back of Andrew’s pads. “I owe you a drink,” Jack says decisively when he pulls back, shooting a grin between his father and Andrew. “Can’t believe you did that.”

“More than a drink, I think,” the blonde guy Andrew saw behind the bench pipes up. Jack’s ‘twink’. Boyfriend. Whatever. “Dinner at least.”

“A pie,” Bob suggests tightly, keeping his voice even as he turns to quickly scrub his fist over his eyes. Andrew recognizes the statuesque woman who strides up beside Bob, and one quick look tells him she definitely knows who he is.

“Hello, Andrew,” Alicia greets softly, genuinely. “It’s very nice to meet you.”

“You, too.” he says, the tightness in his throat coming out as gruffness rather than emotion. “This is great, but I should go shower and, uh, it was nice meeting you all.”

Bob’s hand whips out and fists the sleeve of Andrew’s sweater, keeping him in place.

“You have plans tonight?”

Andrew debates lying, because he doesn’t know how to move forward from this point, but they’re all looking at him. Waiting. Expectant. There’s too much at stake, and yet somehow — A sharp whistle drags Andrew’s attention back to the locker room. Kent is peeking his head out, and god knows how long he’s been eavesdropping.

“Yo, Zimmermanns. Bittle.”

“Parson.” The blonde says curtly, earning a wry smirk from Kent.

“Flip, we got a presser if you feel like putting a bow on the evening,” Kent’s gaze drifts to Bob’s flushed face, and he adds, “Or, you can shower and slip out the loading bay while I cover for your aggro ass because this is not going to be fun. Your call.”

Andrew looks at the small family surrounding him, his family, and says, “I don’t want to explain.” Kent shrugs and ducks back inside while Bob’s brow furrows in confusion. “I can do dinner, but I don’t want to,” Andrew holds his hands out in front of him, trying to gesture what he means, and Bob snaps his fingers in understanding.

“Ah, ha, I got you, kid.”

“Neat. I’m gonna go shower.”

“We will be here when you’re ready,” Alicia offers. “Take your time.”

“Oh, I will,” Andrew replies before he can stop himself, cringing the second his back is turned because what the fuck could he be any more awkward?

Time will tell.

_____________

#zimbits #jack / bitty #omgcp #check please #my fic #my stuff #lost zimmermann brother au #bob's got another kid and I named him andrew again!#kent is not a bad guy #only carly is a bad guy and we hate him #long post #because it's a mini fic!

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anagentinwriting · 3 years

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Lifeline - Part 5

Summary: (First Responders!AU) Moving to Los Angeles and living with your brother, Thor, was never part of your plan nor was being a 9-1-1 dispatcher, but plans change when you are faced with your own emergencies. In your case, it was leaving behind a relationship that wasn’t as perfect as it seemed. Will this be the fresh start you were hoping for or will your past find a way to catch up with you?

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Odinson!Sister Reader

Word Count: 4500+

Warnings: Language, drinking, angst, fluff

Lifeline Masterlist / Main Masterlist

After a week of taking call after call, it was nice to get together with the girls. It wasn’t going to be a late-night, but after last weeks rough call, you just wanted to get out of your head and blow off some steam with Nat and Carol at Happy’s Hydrant.

The Hydrant was the place to be tonight. You couldn't remember it ever being this busy, but it was a Friday night. There were always women hoping to get with a man in uniform and men hoping to get lucky with a badass woman first responder. For some, it worked like a charm, but for others, while they had to work a little harder to get some action.

You leaned against your pool cue, watching Nat lineup her stick to the corner pocket with Carol observing from the side, sipping on her beer. Nat took the shot but missed the pocket, forcing a smirk across your lips. Nat stood up straight, rolling her eyes at you.

“Can’t win them all,” you teased, eyeing the table to find your next shot.

Billards was your bar game. When you were attending New York University, you worked at a bar and hustled to make a few extra bucks. Guys would often undermine you at first, but you weren’t afraid to show them what you could do.

“Hey, sweet thing, you like playing pool,” a guy said behind you as you leaned over to take a shot.

“It seems that way, doesn’t it,” you replied, rolling your eyes. He placed a hand on your lower back, making you tense up and let out a sharp breath. You stood up straight and turned around to face him. He was standing closer to you than you expected, and you could smell the overconsumption of alcohol on his breath.

“I’ll bring the balls if you bring your rack.” He bit his lip, his eyes drifting to your chest.

“You sure you have the balls to handle me because that line was fucking terrible.”

“Do you want to find out?”

“No.”

“Come on, girl.” He stepped even closer to you, making the back of your thighs hit the pool table. He placed his hands on your hips, and you froze in place. Your heart pounded, feeling every nerve in your body firing, telling you to run, but your mind filled with fear. You squeezed your eyes shut, trying to get away from those thoughts, but deep down, you knew one wrong move or smartass remark would make things worse.

“Can you...Can you please get your hands off of me,” you gulped, letting out a shaky breath.

“What’s that sweetheart?”

“Get your hands off of her asshole. She’s not interested,” Nat's voice hit your ears, and you felt the weight in front of you disappear.

“Yeah, take a walk prick,” Carol shouted beside you. You opened your eyes to see the asshole retreating away, letting out a relieved breath. “How you holding up, girl?”

You shrugged. “I’ll be fine. Sorry, I kind of froze up there.”

“Don’t apologize, dude was an asshole. You’re still trying to find yourself and get your confidence back,” Carol replied, patting you on the shoulder. “You’ll find it, and when you do, we’ll be right there with you.” You nodded, crossing your arms across your chest. “If you’re interested, Val teaches a self-defense class, well it’s more of a boxing class at Jabari Tribe Training Center. We could even go with you,” Carol offered, earning a nod from Nat.

“I’ll think about it.” You shrugged, staring at the floor.

“You know what, girls, this calls for shots,” Nat commented. “I’ll be back.” She disappeared to the bar, being greeted by a few guys offering to buy her the shots.

“Hey, YN.” You peeked up at Carol before your eyes drifted back to the floor. “Promise me you won’t let that asshole ruin your night.”

“I promise.”

“Good. And not all guys are like him; some are just drunk assholes who think just because they wear a uniform, every woman wants to sleep with them when really they aren’t interested,” She sighed, staring at you. “How about we start another game then?”

“Um...yeah, let’s do it.”

______

“YN, why can’t you let me win for once?” Carol whined, leaning against her pool cue.

“Practice more, and then maybe you'll have a chance,” you smirked, feeling better after a couple of shots and another beer later.

You lined up to sink the number 8 ball in the corner pocket when someone out of the corner of your eye caught your attention. You gulped, turning your head in their direction to find Fireman Rogers. “You’re sort of ruining my concentration with your staring.”

“Didn’t know I had that effect on you.”

You scoffed, taking the shot and missing the pocket. “That’s on you.” You didn’t miss the slight nod from him and the ever-growing grin appearing on Carol’s face, watching the two of you interact.

“Ouch!” He held a hand over his heart, smirking at you.

You watched Carol sink one of her three remaining stripes into the pocket but failed to get the other two in. You nodded to yourself, setting yourself up to get the number 8 ball in the same corner pocket. Shooting a quick glare towards Steve, he held up his hands, trying to hide his smile by taking a sip of his beer. You hit the white ball, sending it right towards the number 8 ball, sinking it into the corner pocket.

“Well...that’s game. Rogers, you’re up. Time for you to take on the champ.” Carol walked over to him, forcing the pool cue to his chest until he grabbed it, and she shot you a quick wink over her shoulder before disappearing into the crowd.

“Smooth,” you whispered under your breath.

“What was that?” Steve questioned, leaning a little closer to you.

“Bring it, Rogers.”

_______

With one last hit, the number 8 ball sunk into the center pocket. “And with that, the champ remains the champ. Good game though, you weren’t...bad.”

“Not bad, huh? Maybe you caught me on an off day.”

“Will save the rematch for another day then.” You put the pool cue back on the wall and went to your usual table, taking a seat on one of the high stools. You take a sip of your beer, noticing Steve taking the chair across from you.

“How did you get so good at pool?”

“I worked at a bar in college and got really good at it. Even hustled a few people to get some extra cash.”

“Did they deserve it?” He asked with a chuckle.

“Of course,” you smirked, taking a sip of your drink. Your eyes traveled around the bar, spotting your brother with a group of ladies. It still baffled you how he could finagle himself into any group, whether it was to make friends or take someone home. In this incident, it looked to be taking someone home. Thor wrapped his arm around one of the ladies and headed out the door. “Well, I’m in no rush to get home now.”

“Why is that?”

“My brother just walked out the door with his latest conquest.” His eyes traveled to the door. “Now in the morning, I will have to make small talk with her, and poor Darryl is gonna have to hear them…” you shake your head, not finishing the sentence. “Good thing I got him noise-canceling headphones.”

“Good thing.”

“How are you liking the 107 so far?”

“It’s...” Steve started only to be interrupted by Sam.

“Okay, so Thor just left with the woman I was hitting on all night. Can’t your brother give another brother a chance,” Sam added, taking a swig of his beer.

“That’s my brother for…”

“Steve, I heard you just got your ass handed to you in pool. Way to go, girl.” Bucky held up his hand, and you high-fived him. “Steve’s good. He always kicks my ass.”

“Well, that’s because you suck at it,” Sam added.

“Well, at least I can get a woman to go home with me.”

“That’s cold.”

“You can’t get every woman to go with you,” Nat added, taking the stool next to yours.

“Wanna bet.” Bucky licked his lips, earning a scoff from Nat. “Listen here, everyone. I am about to share Mr. Barnes Fling Tips 401. That’s right, this is senior college level, no freshman 101.” He takes a drink of his beer. “First: Get the lovely woman’s attention; catch her eye at the bar, smile at her, send her a drink, whatever you need to do to get her to notice you. Number two: once she notices you, disappear for a little while to see if she looks for you. Then, when she least expects it, go over to her and introduce yourself. Then, this is where the real flirting happens; smirk at her, put a hand on her thigh, bite your lip, any of the telltale signs you’re interested. Then finally, she will take your hand, and that’s when you take her home. We both have meaningless sex and then move on. We both get exactly what we wanted.”

“You’re terrible.” Nat rolled her eyes, crossing her arms across her chest.

“Says the female version of me,” he smirked.

“You wish, because then maybe, just maybe, I would give you the time of day and sleep with you. But, you’re not worth it. I don’t think I could ever sink low enough to sleep with you.”

“Ouch, doll, ouch.” He held his hand over his heart, feigning hurt in his eyes.

“I would feel bad, but we both know you don’t have a heart when it comes to women.”

“One right after another. You’re on fire, Red.”

“I don’t have time for this. Come on, YN, let's go get another drink.” Nat grabbed your hand and pulled you to the bar with her.

“Is it just me, or was that a whole lotta sexual tension right there?” Sam asked Steve as soon as Bucky stormed off.

“I would say so,” Steve nodded in agreement.

________

You classified yourself as a people watcher, and you always found it interesting to watch people interact with one another. You'd often see the people looking to hookup. A bachelorette party with an overly flirty bride to be who may or may not make a mistake tonight. Those people who came out to drink for fun; those that drink because they have a problem; the new parents that needed to get out of the house, or the couple still getting to know one another. You never met any of these people in your life, but you couldn’t help but create their life story.

It was like the couple sitting close together in the booth to your right. They were falling for each, whether they planned it or not. It was easy to tell with the way they looked at each other. You felt that way once, too. The feeling that you and him were the only two in a crowded room. You thought it was love, but looking back, maybe it was something different. Something toxic, like a poisonous gas entering the air without you knowing, and sooner or later, you're gasping, trying to find the last bit of oxygen. But, it’s no use because you’re trapped, and every breath you take only makes you weaker and unable to move, and eventually, it ends up taking everything from you.

“Hi, again.” Steve takes a seat on the stool next to you at the bar, pulling you out of your head. “Everyone keeps leaving me, and I didn’t want to look like that loser in the bar sitting by himself.”

“So you came over to join me? Who was sitting by herself looking like a loser?”

“Yeah, but now we can be losers together,” he chuckled, making you smirk.

“Speak for yourself,” you chuckled, picking at the label on the beer bottle.“You and Bucky became fast friends.”

“Yeah, well, we have known each other since we were kids.”

“Wait, you grew up here?” You turned your heads towards him, narrowing your eyes at him.

“No in Brooklyn. Brooklyn, New York.”

“Get out--” you hit him on the arm “--I used to live in Brooklyn.”

“Really? Small world,” he smiled, leaning in a little closer to you to hear you better over the music playing on the jukebox. “What made you move out here?”

“Story for another time,” you pointed the tip of your beer bottle at him.

He nodded, “So why a 9-1-1 dispatcher?”

“You’re full of questions, aren’t you, Steve?”

He shrugged with a small chuckle. “A few.”

“Did you get dragged out tonight, too?” You asked, taking a sip of your beer.

“What makes you think that?”

“Think it was so our friends could get a little action.” Your eyes traveled around the bar to see Bucky leaving with a redhead, and Nat had her hand on a guy's bicep with a flirty expression on her face. You had no idea where Carol went, and Sam must’ve left after realizing his luck ran out. Poor guy.

“So it would seem,” he smirked, glancing around the room.

You felt your phone vibrate, and you glanced down, seeing a message from Nat.

Nat: Heading out! Hope you can find a way home ;)

YN: Yeah, it’s called an Uber

Nat: (rolling eyes emoji)

“And with that, my ride just left.” You locked your phone, sliding it back into your pocket.

“Yeah, my ride left about five minutes ago.” Steve sighed, staring at his beer bottle. “What do you say about getting out of here?”

You glanced at him underneath your eyelashes. “I hope you know you're not getting in my pants.”

“Oh, I know, I didn’t mean it like that, but maybe another time,” he winked, forcing you to crack a smile.

“Smooth, Rogers. Smooth,” you commented. “And here I thought you were a goody-to-shoes.”

“Most people do, but I am far from it.”

“I am seeing that now,” you chuckled, swallowing the little bit left in your drink. He nodded, glancing around the bar. “Are you ready?”

“For what?”

“To get out of here?”

“I didn’t mean…” His head snapped to you with raised eyebrows.

“I know, another time,” you teased, seeing the corner of his mouth turn up. “Are you coming because your half-full beer says otherwise?”

He looked at it, then back over at you. Something in his blue eyes shifted from playful to curious in a matter of seconds. “Let's blow this popsicle stand,” Steve smirked, downing the rest of his drink.

“Easy there, don’t want to have to carry you out of here,” you commented as he reached behind him and slipped on his jacket.

“Haha.”

You felt the chill in the air as soon as you walked out the front door of the bar. It felt like fall was just around the corner, and it only brought goosebumps to your skin.

“How far is home?” Steve asked.

“About thirty blocks north, but you don’t have to walk with me. I just figured you didn’t want to look like a loser sitting at the bar by yourself.”

“Thanks, I appreciate your concern, but I don’t mind. I have nothing waiting for me at home, and this way, you have some company.”

“Or do you just not want me to get mugged or something?”

“Maybe that too,” he chuckled, slipping his hands into his jacket pockets. “So you live with your brother? Why don’t you have your own place?”

“I’ve been looking, and I did find one I love. The only problem is I don’t know what to say to Thor.”

“I’m sure he’ll understand.” He added. “It will probably be hard for him at first, but it’s always hard to start over,” Steve mumbled like he knew from his own experience.

“Yeah, but you haven’t experienced softie Thor.”

“Softie Thor?”

“Don’t tell anyone I told you this, but he still sleeps with his baby blanket. He calls it Mjolnir, and it has all kinds of different hammers and tools on it. He says he doesn’t have it anymore, but the last time I saw it, it was hiding under his pillow.”

“Really?” he smiled, shaking his head. “The big guy. Yay, tall--” he gestured with his hand “--blonde hair, god-like deep voice girls fall for, and he still sleeps with a blankety?” You nodded. “Yeah, I can say I have never seen that side of him.” He chuckled, shaking his head.

You rubbed your upper arms, hoping to keep the chill at bay but having little to no success. You always seemed to forget to grab a jacket before going out. “Why did you transfer to LA from Brooklyn?”

“Now, look who is full of questions?”

“Call me curious.” You shrugged, catching his eye before his return back to the ground.

“Fine, but then you have to answer one of my questions.” You nodded. “Okay, well, I transferred because I needed a new start after some bad stuff went down.”

“Why, what happened?”

“Trying to pull a fast one on me. I like it, but my turn.” You let out an annoyed sigh. “What did you do when you lived in Brooklyn?”

“Fair question." You nodded. "I was an ER nurse. It was both stressful and satisfying at the same time. On the one hand, I didn’t know what was going to come through the doors, but on the other hand, bringing someone back on the brink of dying gave me a rush. I can’t even explain the feeling; I loved my job.”

“Then, why leave?”

“I needed a fresh start.” You glanced over at him, and he nodded, biting his lip. “Looks like we left for the same reason.”

“Maybe this is fate's way of telling us we both deserve a second chance.”

“If you believe in that sort of thing,” You shivered, running your hands over your arms to get them to warm up.

“Here.” Steve started pulling off his worn-out brown leather jacket and offering it to you.

“No, you keep it. I don’t want you to get cold.”

“Don’t worry about me? I’m like a body heater.”

“Fine, but if you get cold, you better tell me.” You slipped it on, feeling the warmth envelop you. His scent on his jacket made your insides twist. You pulled it tight around you, feeling your body warm up in an instant.

“I will,” he smiled, putting his hands in his pants pockets, shrugging.

You walked in silence for a block or so when you stopped at the crosswalk, waiting for the walking figure to appear. “What was it like growing up in Brooklyn with Bucky?”

He chuckled. “Well, it’s a funny story actually because it all started in grade school.” He glanced at you as if asking if he wanted to hear it. “I was drawing on the playground one day at recess. And at the time, I was a sickly little kid, and my mom told me I couldn’t play sports because I had a lot of health problems when I was younger before I became this.” He gestured to himself, making you roll your eyes. “Anyways, I was drawing, and these bullies came over and stood in my light and poured water over my notebook…”

“Those assholes.”

“Yeah, right,” he chuckled, scratching the back of his head. The crosswalk person appeared, and they started walking again. “I was never one to back down from a fight, so I stood up to him. He pushed me, and I fell, but I got back up and tried to push him, but ended up getting pushed down again, this time landing in a mud puddle. Then, Bucky came over, and straight-up punched this dude in the face. I think we were six at the time.”

“Oh my god, are you kidding?” Your mouth dropped over, and you covered it with your hand.

“Wish I was. Bucky told him to pick on someone his own size and sent him crying. After that, we became pretty good friends.”

“Do you still have the never run from a fight mentality?” You eyed him over and noticed him keeping a close eye on you.

“Yeah, I just don’t like bullies.” He shrugged as comfortable silence fell between the two of you once again. “You said you needed a fresh start. What were you running from?” You stared hard at the ground, biting your lip, not sure if you wanted to lay it all out for him. “Question for another time. How about a counter-question,” he hummed, thinking it over as you watched him mull over what to ask next. “How was it growing up with Thor?”

“Thor and I were never close growing up, which is crazy considering I live with him now. He was my older brother, he had his friends he always hung out with, and I was the younger sister. What older sibling wants to hang out with their younger sibling unless their parents ask them to? We got along, but I grew up being close with our adopted brother Loki. When Thor graduated from high school, he tried college but found it wasn’t for him, and then one day decided to move to LA and become a firefighter. After he moved, I didn’t talk to him much. Loki and I stayed in Brooklyn, I got my nursing degree, and he went into Broadway production. We were a scattered out set of siblings, living on two different coasts.”

“If you and Thor were never close, why move here and live with him?”

“I knew he would help me find myself again.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“Thor was the brother that wasn’t afraid to make a fool of himself to get me to laugh or feel better. He could get things off my mind when I needed to, plus he’s easy to talk to. Loki’s more of the conservative brother that has a plan and can be a diva at times. I love them both, but I knew starting here would be the fresh start I needed.” You shrugged in his jacket. “I think you owe me at least three extra questions.”

“Depends what you qualify as a question.”

“Oh, is that how it’s gonna be, wise guy.” You pushed him on the arm. “My turn to ask, let’s see, hmmm.” You tapped your chin with your finger. “How did you and my brother bond so fast?”

“I don’t know. It’s what you have to do in this job, trust your team. Besides, like you said, your brother is easy to get along with after you get past his ego.”

“He does have a big ego,” you nodded with a chuckle.

“What’s the hardest part about being a 911 dispatcher?”

“Really? Already asking a question. I think you still owe me a couple, but I’ll oblige.” You took in a deep breath and let it out, thinking it over. “When the caller hangs up, and you never know what the outcome is. Like, am I making a difference, am I helping? Being a nurse, I knew the outcome because I was there for everything, but here, all you can do is send help. I could look at the records and see what happened, but what if it’s not the outcome I hoped for.” You stared at the ground in front of you. “It’s almost like never finding out an ending to a movie or a book. I want to know what happened, but maybe it’s better left not knowing. After they hang up, sometimes you don’t get time to process it because there is another caller with another emergency.”

“I get it. Sometimes what we do can be a horror movie. It can give us nightmares if you can’t save someone or can’t get there in time,” Steve’s voice drifted off. “You can play it over in your head to figure out what you could’ve done differently, but sometimes the ending you wanted to happen was never going to happen.” He stared wide-eyed at the ground before glancing your way. There was something different in his eyes, like a nightmare he never quite escaped. “And you’re right, it’s one call after another with little to no recovery time in between.”

“But, then you get those calls where everything goes right, and it makes everything you’re doing worth it.” You shot him a warm smile, earning a nod from him.

“Have to say I agree with that.”

Both of you remained silent for a couple of blocks. These careers were tough to talk about. Everyone called you heroes, but sometimes it was hard to feel like a hero.

“Why did you want to be a fireman?”

“Simple, I like helping people, but like any job, it takes a toll.” He shrugged, glancing at you. “When your adrenaline is pumping, and every nerve in your body is firing. There is pressure put on us, and we never know how things will turn out, but we have to assure those we are trying to save that they are going to be okay. It’s like in a moment's notice we have to drop everything because we are the only help that is coming, and we have to try and save them from what could be the worst moment in their life.”

“It’s almost like you rehearsed that. Did you...did you rehearse that?” You joked, forcing him to crack a smile.

“Shut up, so what if I did.” He nudged your side, making you laugh out loud. It was a real laugh, the kind you haven’t had in a long time. It wasn’t a simple chuckle or a forced giggle, but for the first time in a long time, it sounded happy. Maybe, this is what Bruce was talking about when he told you to talk to someone. Weirdly enough, you did feel lighter, like some of the weight was lifted off your shoulders with this one conversation.

You came to a stop in front of a cozy little townhouse Thor and Darryl rented. It wasn’t huge. It was a two-bedroom home that an elderly couple raised their little girl, Hope, in. You only met Hank Pym and Janet van Dyne a few times, but they were a lovely couple that decided to rent out that home and retire next to the ocean.

“This is me.” You waved your hand at the house and started pulling off Steve’s jacket when he stopped you.

“Hold on to it for me. I’m sure I’ll see you again.”

“Awful sure of yourself, what makes you think I want to see you again?”

“A guy can hope, can’t he. If it helps, my jacket looks a hell of a lot better on you.”

“It’s helping,” you breathed a smirk, pulling the jacket around you. “Goodnight, Steve. Thanks for the talk and the walk home.”

“Glad I could help. Have a nice night, YN,” he waved, watching you walk up the steps and use your keys to unlock the door. You opened the door and turned around to find him waiting for you to safely get inside.

“I want you to know, I am still holding you to answer one question,” you added, opening the door wider.

“Look forward to answering it,” he smiled as you walked in and shut the door behind you.

______

AN: Thanks for reading Part 5! This is probably a chapter you all have been waiting for...more Steve action! Haha! What did you think of the round of twenty questions?! We got a little bit more backstory on her, and a little more about Steve. He left to get a new start, too, any theories as to why?! I mean, I know, but I'm curious where your heads are at! Also, I don't know much about billiards/pool rules, it's basically what I have learned through watching people play it, so if it’s totally off my bad! Again, thanks for reading, reblogs, likes, and comments always welcome!

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dreamystuffers · 3 years

Text

things you said through your teeth - pjm

summary: all things aside, a bit more trouble can’t hurt if it leads to your best friend back by your side

pairing: class president!jimin x idiot!reader

genre: fluff, angst, high school? au (idk it’s academia), unrequited love

length: 0.5k words

warnings: i mention barry allen (he’s the flash LOL like the superhero) but yeah i guess no real warnings

note: this is part of my things you said mini series and a repost from my old blog but slightly edited!

“Seriously _____? Again?” Huffs Jimin as he plops down in the seat across from yours.

You can only sigh knowing what’s coming for you.

“I’m sorry! I couldn’t help it!” You defend weakly, slinking defeatedly into the hard blue classroom chair. "Isn't it common knowledge to know you shouldn't cross me?"

Jimin looks at your messy uniform and puppy dog eyes, giving you an unimpressed look.

"No,” He replies almost immediately, ignoring the exaggerated pout on your lips and your whine of protest. “But I'm sure you know how to treat people with a bit more civility than that!"

"Taehyung should've known not to diss Barry Allen in my presence!" You respond quickly, arms flailing in a desperate attempt to get Jimin to understand your perspective. “He’s truly the best boy and I can’t believe you expect me to stand for this!”

Jimin can only look at you incredulously as he hears your comment.

"You’re really an idiot."

A soft giggle escapes your lips escalating into full-out contagious laughter and soon enough, you and Jimin are laughing, clutching your stomachs as your eyes water from your silly antics.

"Why am I best friends with a defensive idiot?" Prods Jimin breathlessly as the giggles die down.

"Why am I best friends with the class president who can’t even contain my idiocy?" You shoot back, the giggles returning ever so slightly.

"Cause we love each other." Jimin teases.

An overly dramatic gasp leaves your mouth as the pull your hands to your chest.

"Park Jimin, do you love me?" You ask teasingly, hoping your best friend can’t hear your heartbeat the way you hear it pounding in your ears.

“Of course.” He replies without hesitation, an equally teasing tone coating his words and a cheesy smile plastered on his face.

You slap his arm in a desperate attempt to divert his attention away from your burning cheeks but he only chuckles as he pulls you into a tight hug.

"You know you really gotta stop picking fights with people?" Jimin mumbles softly into your ear, rubbing your back softly.

"Yeah, I know,” You mumble back, lifting your head up slightly to unmuffle your words. “I'm sorry."

"It's okay _____.” He pulls you closer to him if possible. “As long as you're alright."

Tears spring to your eyes and you laugh softly as you try to shake them away.

“Gosh,” You say laughingly as you pull away from him. “I’m such a mess.”

"You’re fine, don’t worry,” Jimin says as he pulls out his cell phone to check his notifications.

You can already tell by the loving expression on his face that his girlfriend has texted him likely asking about his whereabouts and you wince knowing that he needs to go.

Jimin’s expression is apologetic when he looks up from his phone but you simply wave him off as you plaster a smile on your face.

“Go,” You say, the smile on your face getting harder to maintain. “I’m sure she’s been waiting a while for you.”

You hold your breath as Jimin sends you a smile and mumbles a quick apology before exiting the classroom.

A heavy sigh leaves your lips as you hold your face in your hands.

“You, Park Jimin, are definitely the reason I’m such a mess.”

requests are open for my tys and 100wtsily mini series!

#bts #jimin #park jimin #kwritersworldnet #kpopscape #ultkpop #jimin fluff #bts fluff #bts x reader #bts fanfic #jimin fanfic #jimin x reader #jimin drabble #bts drabble #jimin scenario #btsghostiewritersnet #*mine:drabble

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silverrstarrr · 3 years

Text

Normal girl (3)

note: okay! So after talking with someone, they helped me with a lot of things about college/university, since I'm only in high school—I do not know how they function. I was told there wasn't a comestic major offered in college but since this is a fanFICTION, Maria University is just gonna be a school for everything.

they suggested I change their major to fashion since its similar to comestics but there's already a fanfic on wattapad that consists of a black y/n being a fashion designer and I don't want to be accuse of stealing their work or idea. Not to mention, it'll mess up with the whole plot I had a in mind, so please bare with me.

Basically what I'm saying is, things regarding the school and different majors etc; will be different. But everything other than that will be how it'll work in modern times. Also a big thank you to @coconutxraikage I really appreciate you ♡ I'm going to add this note everytime I upload a chapter, just to make things clear. I'm also going to be adding links anytime I describe an outfit or an area, just incase readers enjoy seeing than reading. For me, I'm more of an visual person.

Chapter 3:

Stepping into the room, everyone was already at their seats. All eyes stopped and stared at you, you stood there awkwardly for a second before you quickly walked towards the bag of the classroom.

You searched for an empty chair and luckily you found one. It was next to girl, she had a resting bitch face which made you unsure if she wanted anyone to sit next to her. But you had no time to spare and sat down next to her.

The girl was obviously black as well, you can tell from her features. She had long black hair with her edges slayed, you weren't sure if it was a lace front or her real hair but it didn't matter—she looked really pretty. She had long false eyelashes which went well with her eyeshadow and lipgloss. She had two golden necklaces around her chest, one was a snake with little daggers along the side and the other was a simple pendant, in addition with her cross earings. You couldn't see her full outfit but she had on a long sleeve white top and checkered skirt? You couldn't tell.

You looked ahead and saw there wasn't a teacher, was this the wrong class again? You were so tired and wanted this day to be over already. You decided to ask the girl next to you,

"The teacher Mr.Fargo, right?" You looked at her.

"Yeah but his ass ain't here, imagine being late on the first day of class." She replied.

All the anxiety you had before came to a closure, you were in the right room.

"okay good, cause I was running around this building like I was stupid."

She looked back at you with a smile,

"Girl same! I did not know where to go, but i got here earlier so I wasn't late like you." She said the last part with a laugh, she was obviously just messing with you.

"shut up, we both didn't know where we was. Look at us twinin' already." You rolled your eyes as she placed her forehead on the back of her hand and laughed.

"My name's Daniyah, you?" Daniyah, she was definitely black. Mom's have a thing for ending their child's name with a "niyah". But the name fit her, she was a pretty lightskin.

"Oh— I'm y/n." You responded.

"Awwn, that name cute and I like your shoes." she glanced down at your feet.

"Thank you." Looking around the room, you noticed it was a decent of twenty students. Most of them were white, you only spotted a few poc here and there.

"Why am I in a room with a bunch of crackas..." you said to yourself.

Daniyah seems to heard you,

"Oh my gosh!!! You can't say that, it's a slur to white people." She was joking and you decided to go along.

"Sorry! You're right, I meant Klans membe—I mean! massa—wait no colonizers."

Daniyah burst into laughter, lightly nudging you. You followed along and started to laugh as well.

"Sis pleaasee, talking about some klans member," she continued on, lightly muffling her laugh.

"But we are in a room full of massa's, I think the teacher's white too."

You kinda expected that. You didn't think a poc could have the last name 'fargo'. You just prayed they didn't overly use AAVE, it always made you uncomfortable when non-poc did that.

"he's hella lat—" cutting you off, a large thud sound of the door hitting the wall was made as a tall guy with starbucks and his laptop walks in.

"Sorry guys! I'm really late, traffic was annoying." It was Mr. Fargo, he was wearing black pants, with a tucked in black n white striped short sleeved shirt. Under his shirt he wore black long sleeves, it went well with his slender body. To finish the outfit, he simply wore black combat boots. Awooga, He could dress good—go white boy, go!

He stopped by his desk in the front and dropped off his stuff, he also placed his long trench coat on his seat.

The blonde man leaned against his desk and took a good look at the class—he clapped his hands together and spoke,

"Okay class! Hello, my name is Derek Fargo but you all may call me Mr.Fargo— or Derek, whichever you prefer. I'm not too big on sir names." He said with a smile.

Pulling out the office chair, he took a seat and opened his laptop. He began calling names for attendance as others answered "here" or a simple greeting.

"Y/n L/n?" He spoke.

You lifted your head and said,

"yo."

Daniyah snickered next to you,

"Yo!" She mocked you in a male voice, trying to sound like those annoying boys who thought they were cool.

You nudged her arm in response and whined for her to stop.

"Ms.Lawfoot?"

"Here sir." Daniyah raised her hand slightly as Mr.Fargo nodded and typed into his computer.

Once he was done taking attendance, he started class. He talked about the curriculum and other activities that'll be going this semester.

"By the way, we'll be working with other majors. Especially photography and graphic designs." He continued on,

"We have a few modeling agencies that comes here often and uses one of the empty rooms in the next door building. Usually, students in the photography major use these opportunities to get a job at these agencies and take photos of models,"

"This goes for us too. Most modeling agency hire cosmetologist to help prepare their models for photo shoots or runways."

Next door building? Wait was it—? Nah, it couldn't be. You blocked out your own thoughts and continued to listen.

"They also have amateur models, ones who are new to the business. Those are the ones we'll be working with most of the time."

He continued on talking about the different opportunities and things you'll be experiencing.

~~~

After finishing Mr. Fargo's class and long ass lecture hall, it was time for lunch.

Immediately you pulled out your phone and messaged yumi, to see if she was free.

"Aw shii, I forgot to get Daniyah's number. Hopefully I get to run into that lighskin again." You said to yourself, you continued to contact yumi.

colonizer but times 2🧑🏻‍🦲

What you eatin for lunch?

Idk, I was going to ask u what you wanted to eat

Girl, if you don't flip a coin

and pick a place.

LOOL😭

Let's just to the food court

& see what they have 🦲

Awe okay, I'll go there

and wait for you🤨

Read at 11:35

You were already in the halls and decided to head towards the food court, since you saw it earlier on your way to the lecture hall.

The halls were pretty packed since most people lunches were around this time, a few people bumped into you and you glared at them in response as they muttered apologies.

Halfway at the food court, an average height male bumps into you—making you drop your phone as the the case comes off as well.

"What the fuck?!" You said outloud but only for him to hear, since you didn't want to make a scene.

"ah! I'm so sorry, I wasn't watching where I was going." He bent down and picked up your phone along with the case, popping it back In place.

You took your phone from him and decided to get a good look at this asshole who bumped into you. The boy was blonde with an undercut, along with basic blue eyes. He seemed around 5'10? He had on brown cuff pants with long black jacket that stopped at his knees, he topped it off with a black sleeved top and a bag wrapped around his torso.

What was up with everyone and knowing how to dress? The blonde broke your train of thought and spoke,

"Um...do you know where the food court is?" He said softly

"You made me dropped my phone, why would I tell you?" You responded in an annoyed tone.

"I'm really sorry, I didn't know... if there's a crack, I can pay fo—" he was cut off by the motion of you already walking away. He just stood there in awe and guilt.

"Come on, or do you not want food?" You continued on walking but at a slower space for the male could catch up. This bought a small smile to his face and followed behind you.

"What you smiling for? Did you purposely bump into me to ask me this? Withcho' evil ass." You turned your heard to look at the blonde, he was panicking—you guessed he didn't catch on to your joke/sarcasm.

"No?! I really didn't mean to, I was—" he was getting defensive, you were only fucking with him.

"Boy I'm joking, no need to get defensive." You let out a giggle.

"Oh..." he responded back with an awkward smile.

You guys were already at your destination. bzzzt, bzzt it was coming from your phone, you looked at the screen and saw it was your best friend, you picked up.

"Where are you?" The background was loud and her voice was a bit muffled.

"I'm next to chick–flil–a" you looked to your left, just to make sure you were correct. The man besides you just stood there next to you and watched you. "Wasn't this man suppose to go eat?" You thought to yourself.

"Oop— I see you, look up." you did what yume said and saw her waving at you from across the area. She did a little jog towards you as you placed your back into your pocket. Once she reached you, you pulled her into the a hug as she returned it back.

"Hiiii! How was your day kiddo?" She joked.

"Shitty, but at least you're here so I can complain about it."

The male laughed at your remark, which cause both of you to look at him.

"Whos this? You catching men already?" Yume raised a brow at you then glanced at him.

"Dunno, he just started to follow me." You replied in jokingly manner, of course yume caught on.

"Yo? What the hell, you're weird." She said in a serious tone, trying her best to hide her laughter.

"That's not true! You know that's not true," he turned towards you direction.

"I bumped into her on accident and asked her to show me food court." At that exact moment, you and yume started cackling like crazy. You loved this about her, she always caught your vibe.

"We're just messing with ya!" Yume was covering her smile with the back of her hand. The boy just stood there and nodded uncomfortably, since he wasn't the only one laughing.

"I'm Yume, and you?"

"I'm Armin" he flashed her a small smile.

"Armin? That's a cute name, awwn. It totally fits you." Yume returned the smile, a small blush spreaded across his cheek at the girl's remark.

"Naahh, yall ain't gonna sit up here and flirt." You shook your head.

Yume giggled as Armin scratched his head.

"Did you decide on a place to eat?" The question was directed at yume.

"Uhh, no? I didn't have a coin to flip."

"Girl— goodbye." You turned to armin,

"You got any places?" He placed his hand on his chin, looking up trying to recall food place that he knows they'll have.

He suggested a fast food place as you guys both agreed with his choice. The three of you trailed over to the place and stood in line.

Once it was you guys turn, yume and armin ordered and you did the same. After grabbing your food, you all sat at a table and ate. Yume and Armin were hitting up and chatting; soon after she asked about your day since you didn't know what building you were in. You went on and explain, you included all the things Mr. Fargo said as well, which caught Armin's attention.

"Wait you're in that Major? I'm taking fashion, I plan to be a designer."

"The name's y/n but yeah. You look like a future designer." You referring to his outfit, it was really nice.

"Armin!" A voice called out to him, all three of you guys turned to see who it was. Your face dropped at the realization, it the was boy from this morning.

"Oh Eren! Come over here and eat with us." You wanted to kick him, how dare he just invite someone without asking you or yume. You glanced over at yume but she was too busy eating.

The brunette boy was now at the table and gave armin a fist bump. He looked at the table and seemed to notice you,

"Hey beautiful." He was talking to you, you wanted to melt right there and then.

#attack on titan #eren x reader #eren yeager x y/n #eren yeager #eren headcanons #eren yeager x black reader #eren yeager x reader #eren jaeger x reader #eren jeager #armin artlert #x reader #anime #aot x black reader #armin x black reader

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