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taxi-cab-to-slowtown · 2 months

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I'm the Mole

Chapter 30: Swan's Playtoy

For Taxi's 366 Day 60: "flub"

Ships: Dick Grayson/Wally West, Barry Allen/Hal Jordan/Iris West Rating: Mature Fandom: DC Comics Warning: Implied rape/non-con Link to I'm the Mole on Ao3 Why am I doing this?

fic update below cut

Bart stopped next to them. “You alright?”

Hal was laughing into a scowling Barry’s shoulder. “I thought you were dying,” Barry cried. Hal continued to laugh. Bart watched the two of them in confusion.

“I don’t know what’s so funny?” Bart screwed his eyes together.

“Neither do I,” the voice came through a familiar vocoder, made to sound like it was vibrating, Bart had heard that voice before. He turned around slowly as the two Justice Leaguers climbed to their feet. Standing in front of them, bo-staff in hand, feathered cloak fluttering behind him, was Black Swan.

Bart had never seen his mom back in the days when he had two different IDs, he’d only ever seen the Black Swan costume where it was placed in the glass case in their house. Bart never really thought about just how terrifying his mother would have looked in it. Sure, Deathwing was intimidating, but there was something in the added mystery of the almost full-face mask as opposed to the painted-on blood mask he wore in the future.

“Black Swan,” Barry growled, stepping in front of Bart. “What are you going here?”

“Neutron was supposed to kill you,” Black Swan admitted, stepping forward more, spinning the bo-staff with ease in one hand. “But he flubbed that, so I’ve come to finish the job instead.”

Hal stepped up next to Barry, the ring powering up around him, making a blockade between Barry and Black Swan. Dick braced himself and swung his bo around, dropping into a ready crouch.

“Look, kid, we don’t want to hurt you,” Hal said. “You might have been able to fight the Team, but Flash and I… you don’t want to mess with us. We’re founders. We’ve been doing this for a long time, and are good at it.”

“Oh really?” has asked, raising an eyebrow, lips tipping up to a cheeky grin. “Are you really, Harold Jordan?’

Bart could watch the moment when Hal’s heart stuttered in his chest. He definitely wasn’t expecting that. Bart wasn’t either. Why would his mom reveal his hand like that?

While they were all dealing with the shock, he struck.

Dick twisted, flying through the air and over Hal’s shield, landing on the other side. Barry lunged toward him, and he swung out with his staff, blocking both his blows, and the construct hand that Hal sent down toward them. He twisted and turned, springing up and down and back, and somehow landing a perfect blow on Hal’s chest while also executing a backflip and landing a bit away from them.

Hal gripped it chest.

“Why don’t you run on home?” Dick asked, looking Bart right in the eyes. “I’m sure your mother would like to see you.”

He was sneering, and it took Bart a second to realise that was an act. Dick was playing the jilted lover, angry that Killer Flash had made a baby with Nightwing and not him. Bart wondered if Dick was openly his dad’s husband as Black Swan. He knew that Killer Flash’s infatuation with Nightwing had been ramped up to the point that the two of them had faked Dick’s rape in order to cover up their marriage.

Bart didn’t know what to do.

A sharp blade slid out of the bo-staff in Dick’s hands and he lunged toward Barry. Bart made his decision. He lunged forward, grabbing the hero and pulling him, running at his top speed back toward the Allen house. He’d have to trust that Hal would be able to handle himself for a minute or so.

“What are you doing?” Barry asked him as Bart pulled him into the house, closing the door behind him.

“Saving your life.”

***

Dick scowled at where his son had just disappeared with his target in tow. Bart was going to get a talking to when he got home. He didn’t get between Dick and his targets. All that was left now was Hal, holding his ring up toward Dick, surrounded by a faintly glowing green forcefield. Dick stalked toward him.

“No one ever told me Flash was a scaredy cat,” Dick taunted, stepping toward him. “Barry doesn’t even care enough to take you along with him.”

He watched Hal Adam’s apple bob, he could sense the fear in him. It made Dick’s confidence rise. It really interested him how words he could speak as Nightwing and boost confidence and morale, he could say as Black SWan and inspire fear.

“What do you want?”

“Your little loverboy dead,” Dick answered, kicking at his construct. It didn’t budge. “Hmmmm, that’s not going to work.”

He pulled something out of his belt and lunged forward, stabbing it into the construct’s centre. It shattered like stain glass. Hal stared at the thing in Black Swan’s hand, it was a small yellow lightning bolt, like the symbol Barry wore on his chest.

“Oh, this?” he grinned. “A friend of mine gave it to me.”

He slammed his knee into Hal’s stomach and sent him back onto the ground. He climbed onto his chest, re-pocketing the lightning bolt and then grabbing his hand and pulling the ring off his finger. He tossed it aside, and Hal watched as it skipped over the asphalt away from him.

The bo-staff came down, a sharp point sliding out of the end of it. Hal tried to move away, but it impaled him in the shoulder. Black Swan pulled it back out, grinning like a maniac.

“By the way, my friend wanted me to give you a message, one to send to Flash,” He stood up, pacing away as Hal gripped at his bleeding shoulder, fighting back the reflex tears in his eyes and shuffling backwards on his butt as he struggled to stand back up.

“Alright, what was the fucking message?” Hal grit out, pulling himself to his feet and fighting through the pain of the injury. “What did your friend tell you?”

Black Swan laughed. “Well, it’s for Barry, but I guess you can pass it on to him.”

He stepped forward and Hal tensed, but he leaned in up against his ear and murmured. “He said you’re right, Killer Flash did kill his parents, but he’s still alive. He told me to tell you ‘I never gave up hope on you, uncle Barry, I never doubted you would save me.’”

All the colour left Hal’s face. It was a tossup if it was from shock or from the stab-wound in his shoulder.

“No, Wally’s dead… he died, ye–”

Black swan plunged his spear into his side. Hal gasped, groaning as the spear slid out of his side and he gasped, falling to his knees. Dick leaned down.

“Some days I think he thinks it would be better if he were dead. The screams… well, I can make Wally make whatever sounds I want. My husband and I have a deal, you see. He gets his fuck toy, and I get mine.”

Hal was staring at him, his blood rolling down his side. Dick grinned, it was feral, and dark. He wanted his claim to be clear, he wanted Hal to know exactly what he was saying.

“I’ll be back to kill Flash later.”

And, like the bat he was, he was gone.

***

Barry carried Hal back to the house bleeding out. He laid him on the kitchen table. Bart watched as Jay, Joan, Iris, and Barry bustled around him, trying to stitch him up. Bart sat on the stairs, face in his hands, tugging at his tufts of hair. He’d messed up. He’d managed to save Barry, but now Hal was laying on the table, pale-faced and dying as they hurried to try to fix him. He was going to die, and it might all be Bart’s fault.

He stood up, walking up the stairs and into the bathroom, closing the door and sitting down against the wall. He’d wanted to fix things. He could have done better though. If he’d just told Barry that Dick was Black Swan and Killer Flash was Wally West, it would have fixed things, but Bart didn’t want to do that.

Bart loved his parents. Which might seem like something a villain kid shouldn’t say, especially a villain kid going back in time to change what their parents did, but that didn’t change the fact that it was true. Bart loved them. Bart’s mom was good to him, gentle, sweet. Bart’s dad was all smiles, and love. They never talked about work at the dinner table, and all blood had to be washed off before they sat down to eat, and Dick always asked Bart about his day, and Wally ruffled his hair and smiled at him and said he made them proud.

Bart loved his parents.

Bart didn’t want to see the Justice League lock them up and throw away the key. He wanted his mom and dad to come back to the light, and he didn’t mean the Light. His mom used to run with Batman. His mom inspired a whole new generation of heroes. He just wanted Dick to go back to what he once was, and he wanted his dad to realise that Luthor and all of them were wrong, that they lied to him, that Barry couldn’t have done anything because he didn’t know.

Barry wasn’t at fault for the things that had happened to him. Barry wasn’t at fault for Rudy’s abuse and Wally not getting out. Wally was obsessed with the Flash, obsessed with the idea that the Flash could save him, just because he was hurting. He needed that hope, to get through each day, but that hope turned around and made him believe in something that didn’t exist.

Flash wasn’t infallible. Flash wasn’t some magic tooth fairy that could come and save him whenever he wanted him to. Flash was a man, just like Wally. A man who could run faster than anyone else, but still a man. He worked a nine to five, came home to his wife and boyfriend, put on a red suit, and ran around saving people. He was a good man, a hero, but still a man.

Wally had let the dreams of a boy, crushed by reality, blind him to the truth of the world, and it had driven him to evil. It had driven him to team up with a bunch of Eugenicists who wanted a “pure” society, because he’d let those dreams be what guided him.

If only Bart could make Wally and Dick see where they’d gone wrong, then everything could be fixed. If only he could lead them back to what they were supposed to be. They could defeat the light and bring the world into a better future. That’s what they needed. It would be better for everyone.

Bart couldn’t tell. He couldn’t let his parents get locked up. All that would do was solidify their hatred of the heroes, he needed them to change sides, to return to the good, who they were meant to be.

Bart stood up, leaning on the sink.

But was his desire to see his parents happy more important than Hal Jordan’s life? All his parents would face was prison, but his mom might have killed Hal.

“Bart?” Iris voice called from down the hall, he tensed.

“Please don’t let Hal be dead,” he begged quietly, before walking over toward the door and opening it for his great-aunt. “Yes?”

“He’s going to be okay,” she told him gently.

Bart lunged forward and fell into her arms, letting out tears of relief. He was going to be okay. He still had a chance. Neutron had been neutralised, and Hal and Barry were still alive. They might be able to win this.

He could do this, everything could turn out alright.

***

Dick run across the beam and jumped into the air, flipping and grabbing onto the bar above him, before spinning around with his hands as the fulcrum and launching off. He landed in a hand-stand and then flipped up to his feet, heaving out breaths, hands on his knees. He moved to move to a new exercise, but a hand shot out a grabbed his wrist.

“Babe, what happened?” Wally asked, worried, looking around at the mess Dick had made of the gym. “You’ve been in here for three hours already.”

“Wally, let go,” Dick growled.

Wally stepped toward him, nose-to-nose. “Oh, babe, you can’t scare me away with the hot boy act, that just makes me horny.” He leaned into him, sliding a hand around his waist and pressing kisses up his throat. Dick tilted his head back, eyes fluttering half-closed. “What happened?” he whispered in his ear, kissing behind it and making Dick shiver.

“Failed mission,” he answered, biting his lip to keep from whimpering. “And our kid from the future showed up in the mountain and he’s the reason my mission failed.”

Wally froze. He pulled back, eyes wide. “What?” he asked, “our kid… our kid from the future?”

Dick nodded. “His name is Bart. He’s coming to live with us tomorrow, so I can try to get to the bottom of what he thinks he’s doing.”

“Oh, fuck.”

“Walls,” Dick cupped his hands around Wally’s face. “I’m just stressed about the failed assassination, but we’ll figure it out, you and I.” He leaned forward, brushing their lips together. “After all, we always do.”

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tsarisfanfiction · 2 years

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One Year

Fandom: Heroes of Olympus Rating: Gen Genre: Friendship, Hurt/Comfort Characters: Nico di Angelo, Will Solace

When the aftermath of one war overlaps with the anniversary of another, something has to give.

Day six of @solangeloweek “collab”. This fic was inspired by @burning-moths Solangelo art; thank you for letting me write something to go along with it, moth! I hope you enjoy it! This is pre-relationship, set a few weeks after the end of BOO.

Reminder that there’s now a discord server for all my fics, including this one! If you wanna chat with me or with other readers about stuff I write (or just be social in general), hop on over and say hi!

The date snuck up on Nico. It probably snuck up on most of the rest of the camp, too, the demigods frayed from the almost-war against the Romans, and then the actual war against Gaia, all of them losing track of the days as they struggled through the aftermath of cease-fire, alliances and brutal honesty between the camps. As the only demigod considered “impartial”, having spent next to no time in Camp Half-Blood while still being Greek, yet holding the Ambassador of Pluto title for Camp Jupiter, Nico found himself stretched particularly thin as almost all the meetings demanded his presence some way or another.

Of course, he was also having to fit that in between a certain son of Apollo’s demands that he rest, insistence that he spend three days in the infirmary, and general presence everywhere Nico turned – or a yawning gap in his periphery when he wasn’t there, which was something Nico was spending a lot of time not thinking about – which made everything that bit more fraught.

Ironically, it was the most welcome he’d ever felt at camp. The attention was overwhelming at times, and more than once, Hazel had dug him out of cabin thirteen, reminding him that he wasn’t allowed to shadow travel just yet (his sister had spent far too much time with a certain healer, and to Nico’s horror they had quickly allied against him), and gently nudging him to if not socialise, at least not be a hermit.

Nico wasn’t sure who realised the date first. It might have been one of the Romans, making an offhand comment about Mount Orthys and how it seemed bizarre that they’d had two wars within a year, it might have been one of the Greeks making the same comment, but the mood at Camp Half-Blood took a sudden dive into sombre as it sank in.

The sixteenth of August wasn’t a date that had any real significance to Nico, but it was the first day of the Battle of Manhattan, and the Greek demigods couldn’t forget that date even if they tried. Even if it snuck up on them and ambushed them in the wake of another war.

Nico hadn’t joined the battle until the seventeenth, on the cusp of Percy’s birthday when his father finally caved to his demands that he set aside his differences and fight, and he’d never really known what had happened before his arrival. He’d never expected to know, either, but when he trudged into the infirmary for his obligatory check-up and found Will Solace missing his usual sunshine aura, something didn’t quite settle in his mind.

The son of Apollo had been waning steadily since Gaia’s defeat; Nico had almost never seen him outside of the infirmary, aside from short breaks when Chiron or his siblings kicked him out, or that one memorable occasion when he’d collapsed and sent the entire infirmary into an uproar. Physically, Will didn’t look as bad as he had done at times, but the small smile he dragged onto his face was painfully, transparently, fake, and there was no energy at all in his voice.

“Be right with you.” No Death Boy, Lord of Darkness or any of the other ridiculous nicknames Nico had found headed his way since the battle. Nothing to indicate Will even knew who had stepped in the door, even though his light blue eyes had flickered up from some sort of paperwork when the door had opened.

Something had drained all the life from the demigod, leaving him almost as pale and lacklustre as Nico himself, and it felt wrong. Maybe it was hypocritical of him to complain about someone being withdrawn and antisocial when that was his own default state of being, and realistically he knew he couldn’t expect Will to be chipper all the time, but Nico didn’t like it.

“You look like you should be the one this side of the desk,” he said bluntly, leaning against the desk in question. He was ignored – no quip about how Will was the doctor, or even an attempt at deflection. Just silence as the son of Apollo finished scrawling something down in handwriting that was even less legible than usual before putting his pen down and pushing himself to his feet.

Nico half-expected him to sway on the spot, but Will remained stable even though he moved lethargically, as though his limbs weighed several times what they should and he was pushing through molasses. It might have been more reassuring if Will had fallen; at least then there would have been something obvious that Nico could do something about.

Suspicious but with nothing to latch onto, Nico followed when he was mechanically led into the infirmary and suffered through Will poking and prodding at him in silence. The other demigod wasn’t as warm as usual, not in his demeanour (although he made a solid if pathetic attempt at faking it) and not where his fingers touched Nico’s skin, and Nico felt like he should say something.

He just didn’t know what.

Did he know Will well enough to call him out on whatever he was pretending didn’t exist? Will called him out on things all the time, not always relating to his health, so Nico could probably return the sentiment, but he had no idea what to expect. Will could be stubborn; memories of the son of Apollo dragging himself back to work in the infirmary barely minutes after regaining consciousness despite Chiron and his siblings protesting loudly filled Nico’s mind.

But it didn’t feel right to go along with Will’s façade. Nico’s gut told him something was wrong and a chance sighting of the date scrawled on the paperwork Will was making notes on as he confirmed that Nico was indeed on his way back to a clean bill of health (although he refused to lift the ban on shadow travelling) abruptly reminded him of the upcoming anniversary.

“Okay, Solace,” he said, mouth ahead of his brain – body ahead of his brain, as his hand reached out and wrapped around the other boy’s wrist firmly. “You need a break.”

Lifeless blue eyes met his, devoid of the light Nico had come to associate with him. “I’m fine,” Will said, in a voice that sounded the complete opposite of fine. “My shift isn’t over yet.” The smile that stretched over his face was the least convincing yet, deformed and wobbly in a way that felt a lot like a cry for help, and Nico found himself having to make a decision.

Did he let it go, the way Will was clearly trying to get him to, walk away and leave the problem for someone else to handle – someone who was actually capable of handling whatever was going on – or did he dig his heels in and bulldoze his way through?

Most of his instincts were screaming for him to leave, pointing out that Nico could barely sort himself out, let alone anyone else, and that Will wasn’t asking him for help so he didn’t have to get involved.

The rest of him remembered Will reaching out when Nico refused to accept any hands, pushing past his walls because despite the way he was acting, he’d needed help, and saw the reversed situation in front of him.

Will needed something or someone. Help. Even Nico could see that, and although he was certain he was the worst person for the job, he was there and his feet wouldn’t let him turn around and leave. Nor would his heart.

“No-one needs help right now,” he pointed out, gesturing to the mostly-empty infirmary. No-one in it looked like they needed a doctor’s attention imminently; most of them seemed to be asleep. “Take a break, Solace.”

“I can’t-”

Nico yanked him to his feet and used the element of surprise to drag the other boy into an unoccupied corner of the room, away from anyone else. Will looked like he was on the verge of tears, and Nico once again realised how unqualified he was for dealing with whatever this was.

He soldiered on regardless, remembering stubborn blue eyes on the battlefield, snatching whatever time they could to convince Nico not to leave, even if it meant drawing the wrong sort of attention. If Will could try and bash some sense into him in a warzone, Nico could do it in the serenity of the infirmary.

“You look terrible,” he told him bluntly.

“It’s nothing, Nico,” Will tried to convince him. “Don’t worry about it.”

Nico growled and tightened his grip on Will’s wrist when the son of Apollo tried to walk away. “It’s something,” he insisted. “Talk to me.”

“Don’t,” Will pleaded, his transparent façade cracking even as he visibly tried to hold it together. “Nico, I can’t.” He started shaking, and to Nico’s alarm, his bright eyes grew glassy with unshed tears. “I have to- Let me- I can’t.”

A single tear slipped down his face, and in a moment of blind panic, Nico found himself resorting to the same thing Bianca had done whenever he was unhappy, pushing away the memories of his sister as he yanked Will closer and laced his arms around him tightly.

“You need a break,” he repeated, tightening his grip when Will made a futile attempt at escaping before the fight seemed to drain from him entirely.

Nico was caught off-guard when a face buried itself in his shoulder and shaking arms wrapped around his own back. He was completely blindsided by the sobs as hands balled into fists around the fabric of his t-shirt.

Will clung to him tightly, crying near-silently but intensely, and Nico’s brain panicked as he realised he’d put himself in a situation far too far out of his depth for him to handle. There was no way to escape; shadow travel was still banned and there wasn’t a convenient shadow in reach anyway, and Will’s grip was far too tight to wriggle out of. All Nico could do was follow instincts he didn’t know he even had and hold the crying son of Apollo tightly, hoping it was helping.

At the least, now that Will’s façade was obliterated, he seemed disinterested in releasing Nico.

“I saw them die,” the son of Apollo hiccupped, an eternity later. His voice was thick and wet, and his head stayed buried in Nico’s shoulder. “The bridge… A year ago.”

The words were disjointed, but Nico could piece together the context. He didn’t know exactly what had happened during the Battle of Manhattan before he’d arrived, but he knew some of the broader strokes. The way they’d tried to hold the bridges and tunnels before being forced to retreat.

He’d known, in a detached way, that demigods had died. He’d been the one to perform their funerary rites in the days after Percy’s birthday and Kronos’ defeat. He’d never really known any of those demigods, though, and it was only a year later, with Will’s grief overflowing, that he remembered how many golden shrouds had been burned, some with bodies and some without.

Will’s siblings.

Siblings that Will knew, that he shared a cabin with, lived with.

Mourned.

“They’re in Elysium.” It was all he could think to say – everyone who had died fighting for Olympus had been fast-tracked straight through, honoured heroes one and all. Nico didn’t know how to comfort people, how to handle other people’s grief.

(He didn’t know how to handle his own grief.)

Will shuddered in his arms. “I know,” he sobbed. “Thank you.”

Nico wasn’t sure who he was thanking, or why, but nodded his head slightly anyway, silently acknowledging the words.

“It’s hard,” the son of Apollo stuttered a moment later. “I… It hurts. So many- Kronos smiled and Michael saved us- I miss them so much.”

What was he supposed to say to that? Nico swallowed and stayed quiet, letting Will struggle his way through incomplete sentences because he didn’t know what else to do and he hoped that having someone listening helped, even a little.

Eventually, Will ran out of steam and Nico felt him sag against him. He took that as a sign to pull Will down onto the nearest bed; the son of Apollo looked beyond exhausted, and Nico said nothing when a blond head fell onto his shoulder. He really did need a break, but he knew that if he tried to convince Will he’d get nowhere, and Will would probably have a point if he said that there was no-one else who could take over.

The other Apollo kids were no doubt equally grieving, and the rest of the camp just didn’t know enough to keep the infirmary going without them.

What Nico could do was stay with Will, making sure he didn’t overwork himself again for as long as his shift lasted, so that was exactly what he did.

#solangeloweek #heroes of olympus #heroes of olympus fanfiction #nico di angelo #will solace #solangelo #tsari writes fanfiction #burning-moths

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ardentaislinn · 1 year

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Candy Hearts Letter 2022

Hi! I am also ardentaislinn on AO3. Thank you so much for volunteering to write one of my chosen fandoms! I really can’t wait to see what you come up with. Most importantly, I hope you have fun writing whichever of my fandoms it is. Any suggestions I make here are optional.

Here you’ll find:

My general likes

My DNWs

And prompts for the following fandoms:

반도 | Peninsula (2020) (aka Train to Busan 2) - Jung Seok/Min Jung

Practical Arrangement - Sting (song) - Man/Woman

고요의 바다 | The Silent Sea - Han Yoon Jae/Song Ji An

Christmas Class Reunion (2022) - Elle/Devin

Original Works - Badass Woman/The Equally Badass Man Who Secretly Loves Her, Male Soldier Deployed Overseas/His Female Penpal That He's Never Met, Reality Show Producer/Reality Show Contestant Who Knows It's Mostly Fake But Plays Along, 19th Century Male Detective/The Clever and Meddlesome Woman Who Gets in His Way

A quick note on the Korean names - I’m fine with however you choose to transliterate them. Hyphen/no hyphen, slight differences in romanisation, etc. Just do what you are comfortable with and I’ll adjust no problem.

My likes:

I love getting together fics most of all. I love almost every kind of trope (fake dating, slow burn, enemies/rivals-to-lovers, trapped together, there’s only one bed, “unrequited” pining (that is really requited), found families, etc.) I also like casefic, epistolary fic, consent, beta heroes, competence, communication, U/RST, positive endings.

You may notice from the below that my ships mostly involve broken but good-hearted men being secretly head over heels for badass ladies, (and usually not feeling worthy). So that dynamic is strongly encouraged.

Happy endings (or at least hopeful endings) are preferred. Like, super, super preferred. I don’t mind angst at all, but it kinda has to be on the way out of the darkness by the end.

I also like smut, but it certainly isn’t a necessity. For smut, I’m (sadly) fairly vanilla. But I like light bondage, cunnilingus, shower sex, and accidental/consensual voyeurism, (Particularly guys taking matters into their own hands when they think they can’t be with their lady, and the woman stumbling across him mid-act. Writer’s choice whether the woman joins in or gets embarrassed)

Dislikes/DNWs:

Miserable endings. Death of a requested character. Humiliation. Drug use/drug mentions/addiction. Self harm/abuse. Non-con/rape. Heavy kink. Animal harm. Underage sexual content.

Fandom specific prompts:

반도 | Peninsula (2020) (aka Train to Busan 2)

Jung Seok/Min Jung

While maybe objectively not as good a film as the first one, I still enjoyed the hell out of it. Given that it was essentially a cross between Escape From New York and Mad Max, what isn’t to love? I loved the expansion of the world and the clever uses of zombies in the chase scenes. And I really liked the idea that anything can mean happiness when you love and are loved in return - particularly in regards to Joon Yi, but also Jung Seok (and his found family?).

Mostly I just want Jung Seok and Min Jung to kiss. I think they'd help each other heal and be stronger together as a team. While they did grow throughout the movie, they probably have a little more growing to do before they are ready to be together, and they might always be a little dysfunctional, given their traumas. It would be impossible to entirely smooth away all those sharp points they've developed. But they'd understand each other in a way no one else would.

What would interest me the most in this fandom is post-movie fics. But if you wanna do a canon divergent/au thing, I’d be cool with that, too.

Some prompts:

In order to stay together after being rescued, Jung Seok and Min Jung have to pretend to be married.

Jung Seok’s POV when he realises he loves Min Jung.

After four long years of loneliness, Min Jung just wants to be touched. Maybe they start a physical relationship that slowly morphs into an emotional one.

Neither would be particularly verbally demonstrative. How do they show they care about the other without saying "I love you?"

Jung Seok isn’t surprised to find himself in love with Min Jung - and wanting to be a father to her girls - but is he good enough for them? He’s left them behind once - can he forgive himself? Can Min Jung?

The zombie plague escapes from Korea - and Jung Seok, Min Jung, and her girls are the closest thing to experts on how to fight back and contain it that the authorities have. Will their nightmare never be over? Or is this a chance to end it once and for all?

With Min Jung in hospital while her leg heals, Jung Seok suddenly finds himself a surrogate father to two very unruly girls.

Practical Arrangement - Sting (Song)

Man/Woman

I received a great fic for this song for Yuletide, which you can find here. I’m requesting it again purely because there is so much scope here to work with, and so many different interpretations you could go with. And I want them all!

I mean…this song just screams marriage of convenience story, right? I love this trope, particularly when it’s two practical people going into the arrangement for logical reasons…only to find feelings somehow got involved. It’s a perfect set up for slow burn, pining, forced proximity, and all that good stuff.

I think in this song in particular the man might be lying to himself from the very beginning about this being a platonic arrangement. I don’t have any headcanons for their names so feel free to call the characters what you want!

Some prompts:

At what point does either character realise they have feelings for the other? How did they get there? With lots of pining and classic tropes? Do they have to play a couple outside of the house, or is this strictly a legal arrangement?

How do they meet? What happens to the woman that either character thinks this is a logical solution? How bad of a situation is she in?

Why is he lonely enough to propose this solution? Or has he secretly loved her for a long time and only wants to help her? How does the intimacy of marriage and a “warm house to return to” change things for him, even if it’s meant to be platonic? Can going through the motions of intimacy and sharing a home lead to real and lasting feelings?

How long does the “separate beds” promise last? Do they decide that for the duration of their marriage that they will satisfy each other in the bedroom as well? Or do they absolutely never touch given their promise of platonicness?

How does he bond with her son? Do they do things together as a family or mostly lead separate lives?

It sounds like she’s a disaster in the kitchen. Is he a good cook? Does she learn to after all in an act of finding herself? Or does she finally let herself be taken care of for once?

A historical AU? Maybe she’s a titled widow fallen on hard times, and he’s of the rich merchant class and still not considered good enough for her in the eyes of society.

Maybe it’s a Beauty and the Beast scenario? He’s disfigured or magically enchanted but she marries him to save herself and her son. It turns out he’s not as bad as the stories claimed.

If you want to turn this on your head, you can. Maybe the narrator of the song is a creep and/or a stalker and she actually has to get away from him and falls in love with someone else!

고요의 바다 | The Silent Sea

Han Yoon Jae/Song Ji An

So, I requested this for Yuletide, and got two excellent fics here and here. There was a third one in the collection that was also excellent, too! Right here. Normally, when I am so blessed with fics for a tiny fandom like that, I feel like the itch has been scratched, so to speak. But (un)fortunately, in this case, the fics were so good that it made me ship this pairing so much more.

It’s a crime that they didn’t kiss in this, honestly. Two of my favourite Korean actors (Bae Doo Na and Gong Yoo) in one show, buckets of chemistry, and nary a romance! Gong Yoo was at his hottest, too, with the neck tattoo and attitude. (Bae Doo Na is, of course, always at her hottest.)

They are both smart and know what’s up. I feel like they’d make a good couple. And the tension between them, particularly in the beginning, just makes it hotter. Most of these prompts presume that Yoon Jae was rescued at the end there with the others, of course.

Some prompts:

I’m envisioning a whole scenario where she marries him to share her status to save his daughter and they fall in love. They need to make it convincing or it’s basically fraud, so they move in together and pretend to be a couple… Maybe this happens after their adventure, or maybe it’s an AU where they never went to space, or they marry before they go and then they go to the moon.

There was a lot of tension between them. And sometimes there’s only one surefire way to ease that tension…in a maintenance closet.

What happens when they get back to earth? Inevitably, paperwork and bureaucracy. But maybe also they need to save the world? Again?

Additional bonding time in space, before or during everything going to hell. They have a lot of trauma they can share/bond over.

How do they work together to protect Earth after everything they've been through? Does it bring them closer together? Does the water crisis get solved or are things worse than ever?

What happens to Luna? Do they become her surrogate parents? She’s not really human, so what kind of difficulties does that present? How do they explain her presence in the rescue craft to their superiors? Once back in the real world, do they have to pretend she’s normal? This could either be very fraught or rather comedic depending how you want to play it.

Ji An and Yoon Jae have to quarantine together for a few weeks after getting off the moon.

Feel free to do some worldbuilding! The scenario is both terrifyingly realistic and completely apocalyptic. How else is it different from our world? How is it the same? What is going on outside of the limited scope we see?

Christmas Class Reunion (2022)

Elle/Devin

Originally, I saw this Hallmark movie and just thought it was okay. I didn't fall head over heels for it. But the more I thought about it, the more I liked the idea of it. Maybe it didn’t entirely stick the landing but it had all the elements to make a great romance.

Devin used to be a goofy class clown, and now he’s grown up into being a responsible, respectable, single-dad. But he’s perhaps still dealing with that old high school feeling of not quite being good enough. Particularly not for a girl as smart and driven as Elle. He still retains a little bit of his goofiness, but he’s definitely matured a lot. Throughout the movie, Elle’s modern, forward-thinking ways help Devin push himself that little more.

Elle, on the other hand, has always been responsible and ambitious, and until now has been dating guys just like her. Now that the perfect life she’d worked so hard for is starting to fall apart, she’s reassessing her priorities and maybe just…chilling out a little. She feels like she still has to put up a front, but not so much around Devin, who seems to like her just as she is and whose slight goofiness helps her mellow.

They definitely wouldn’t have worked as a couple in high school, but they had both changed a lot in the intervening 15 years, to the point where they’d kind of met in the middle of their two personality extremes, purely by chance. Maybe they still had a bit of growing left to do, but it’s clear that they were in a place where they were ready to be together and make it work.

I'm a lot more interested in where they are now with themselves and each other as opposed to flashing back to their high school years for an entire fic, but I don't mind if you mention or feature scenes from that time to illustrate their development.

Some prompts:

First Christmas together, so soon in their new relationship. Or maybe a series of big days throughout their first year, like first Valentine's, before their engagement. Or maybe many Christmases over the years, to see how they evolve.

The movie kind of cops out by not answering how Elle deals with the fallout from work, and the fact that Elle and Devin live in different cities. I don't feel like there's necessarily an easy answer to any of it, so how is all that resolved?

A missing scene where Devin pines for Elle. Maybe he'd always had a crush on her and didn't feel worthy back then, and those feelings of inadequacy are coming back because he finds 33 year old Elle even smarter and prettier and more incredible than teenaged Elle.

They work together to find Samantha a well-deserved happy ending.

Maybe they live in different cities for a while. How do they keep in contact? Texts? Emails? Phone/video sex?

Bonding time with Skylar. Is it all smooth sailing, or are there some difficulties with Elle coming into their lives?

AU/Canon Divergence. Maybe they met again under other circumstances? As long as keep the dynamic I mentioned above (Amazing woman who feels like she needs to put up a front when the life she worked so hard for is crumbling/the guy who has matured and grown so much but still isn't sure it's enough for her to fall for him.)

How did Devin's proposal happen? Or did Elle get sick of waiting and proposed to him?

Original Work

Badass Woman/The Equally Badass Man Who Secretly Loves Her, Male Soldier Deployed Overseas/His Female Penpal That He's Never Met, Reality Show Producer/Reality Show Contestant Who Knows It's Mostly Fake But Plays Along, 19th Century Male Detective/The Clever and Meddlesome Woman Who Gets in His Way

I think these tags basically speak for themselves, but just in case you want some guidance I’ll give some ideas below.

Badass Woman/The Equally Badass Man Who Secretly Loves Her

Most of the major ships I’ve had throughout my life fall into this category. Terminator’s Sarah Connor/Kyle Reese, Mad Max: Fury Road’s Max/Furiosa, Aliens’ Ripley/Dwayne Hicks, even Peninsula’s Jung Seok/Min Jung listed above. Whatever you write doesn’t need to be an action sci-fi story, though! I’m equally happy with a contemporary rom com where they are CEOs or a single-mother inn owner and a handyman or whatever. There are many ways to be a badass.

As for the story itself? Anything where the hero is quietly enamoured by how competent and capable she is, but doesn’t feel worthy of her, is what I’m after here. So, maybe she gives him a surprising confession. He's loved her for a long time, how did they meet? Maybe they have to kiss/share a bed/work on a mission together and it makes the feelings come to a head. Maybe he confesses to her in a moment of weakness and is surprised when she tells him she feels the same. Maybe they used to be spies or vigilantes together. Like, she was married to his best friend, and the three of them used to work together. Then the best friend dies and they blame themselves and fall out of touch. They have to reunite years later and he’s still carrying a secret torch for her and doesn’t realise she feels the same. There are plenty of routes you can take with this!

Male Soldier Deployed Overseas/His Female Penpal That He's Never Met

For this one, I was thinking something along the lines of the Hallmark movies The Christmas Card or Holiday for Heroes. She sends him a Christmas card or package and they start exchanging letters. He doesn't have much family, and so her letters really mean something to him. Or maybe she's looking after his dog while he's deployed and she sends him photos of his beloved pet, and they get talking. Or maybe this is set in 19th C England, and he writes to inform her of her brother's death, and his comforting words really touch her heart. I just really like epistolary romances! And I really like that moment when they see each other in person for the first time and realise that maybe those feelings that had been developing weren’t so crazy after all. It was all real.

Reality Show Producer/Reality Show Contestant Who Knows It's Mostly Fake But Plays Along

Again, this prompt was inspired by a Hallmark movie, this time Love, For Real. I really liked that he was attracted to her smarts and cynicism since he was feeling pretty jaded about reality shows himself. There's a lot of potential conflict considering falling for a contestant is unprofessional and against the rules. But I obviously don’t want fic of that movie, it’s mostly just the vibes.

Author’s pick of the type of reality show. Cooking competition? Dating show? Maybe it's a friends to lovers story where the producer convinces their friend to join up to help out and they see new sides to each other. Maybe she's the producer and he's the best friend/contestant, a la the Kdrama Love is for Suckers. Maybe it's a Survivor style show and they get “lost” in the wilderness together. Maybe one of them is a celebrity playing up a superficial image for a show, and the producer sees the real, likeable person who comes out when the cameras are off.

19th Century Male Detective/The Clever and Meddlesome Woman Who Gets in His Way

I’m just a sucker for mysteries with a female protagonist or co-lead set in the Victorian era, with a male detective or private investigator that works with her. I love the way the women have to work against and within the system but then use people’s expectations against them. The detective will often be able to work openly in the public sphere when investigating, but the woman works subtly, behind the scenes, in the private sphere. Those two skills end up complementing each other to the point that the crime couldn’t be solved or the criminal brought to justice without either of them. The fact that these stories often lend themselves to having clever, bookish heroines who everyone underestimates, plus a lot of banter with the detective, is just icing on the cake.

For specific ideas, maybe she writes him a letter with information about a crime - he initially dismisses her but is intrigued. Maybe they meet at a crime scene and he’s suspicious because she seems to know so much. Maybe he thinks she or someone close to her is a culprit and she’s trying to prove him wrong. Maybe he goes to her about a case because she has some specific expert knowledge, but she insists on getting far more involved than he intended.

Hopefully that’s all. Sorry it's such an epic letter. Thank you for writing something for me!

#candy hearts exchange #candyheartsex

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kaleidoscopic-quiddity · 2 years

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ok nobody asked me to elaborate but heres my pjo a(ro)spec headcanons

piper: aromantic lesbian

the whole false memories thing with juno made shit SO difficult to figure out

like she was a 16yro girl, already struggling to figure out her place in the world vis a vi being nattive, being mixed, being adhd and dyslexic, and then her baby aro lesbian ass gets fake memories of a boyfriend??

her thing with jason was the biggest instance comphet+compallo attraction in existence okay

its not until piper gets away from the questing/camper life and subsequently, the aphrodite cabin, that she starts realising how she feels about romance and re-evaluating some stuff

considering her relationship with shel, i see her as romance positive/favourable but she defo has some complex feelings going on there

speaking of, piper was so focused on the revelation that she was aro that it took her a while to figure out she was lesbian too

she kind of assumed she was some flavour of ace for a while but other sapphics around camp clocked her and gently nudged her towards the realisation of ‘yes you dont feel that way about guys. but have you considered: women?’

piper: i thought not wanting to date anyone meant i didnt want to kiss anyone, but... i think.. i want to kiss girls

piper bolting awake at 3am after a dream about her time on the argo ii: oh shit i totally was into annabeth wasnt i?

leo: aromantic bi demi-grey-asexual

oh gods leo valdez

he has zero fucking clue he’s anything but straight and allo until reyna casually mentionsn one day that her and a lot of the other hunters are asexual

he’s only ever heard of gay, bi and lesbian so he asks reyna what ‘asexual’ means

cue the most epiphany prompting conversation of leo’s life

leo voice: wait so you’re telling me that there are some people who just like, arent interesting in sex, at all? and not only that, but ppl can feel that way about romance too?

once terms like demi and grey start getting thrown around too he kinda has a freak out and reyna sends him off with a book abt asexuality and aromanticism + some awkward advice

three months of introspection and more than a few breakdowns later leo figures out that hes aro, hes demi-grey-ace, and that that is most likely why his relationship with calypso didnt exactly work out

(he also thinks the terms cupioromantic and/or quoiromantic/sexual might aply to him but hes not wholly sure)

just like piper he had some major compallo going on, he just thought being ‘girl crazy’ was how guys his age were supposed to act and never questioned why it felt like more of a joke for him rather than his true feelings

he figures out the bi part once he goes to college and is like cmon man i already had one sexuality crisis do i really gotta do this shit again

jason: aromantic straight demisexual

jason wasnt raised with as much allo/amatonormativity as other ppl bc he was literally raised by wolves then the legion, but juno yoinking his memories kinda fucked with that

once again, serious case of compallo in regards to piper, he knew he found her pretty and liked her as a friend and didnt understand for a long time that a crush was supposed to be ‘different’ or ‘more than that’

jason struggles with his sense of identity and definitely has this strong heroic leader persona he puts up and well, the hero always gets the girl doesnt he?

he died before he got the chance to really figure out that he was a(ro)spec (and that there were words for what he was feeling) but he knew he felt different about romance and sex than most other teens

the fact that he was more worried about them not being friends anymore rather than losing his girlfriend when piper broke up with him kinda tipped him off

he did have some pretty big queerplatonic feelings for both piper and leo though which in hindsight kind of explains, other than the trauma, why he bonded with them so quickly

annabeth: biromantic asexual

a decent number of athena kids are aspec (their mom literally conceives via a ‘meeting of intelligent minds’, no sex required at all) so she kinda slot herself pretty easily into the ‘asexual’ label after realising that despite dating percy for literal years, she had zero interesting in getting more ‘physical’ with him

(percy is allo but doesnt give a shit about sex if annabeth doesnt give a shit about it. he’s just happy to be close to her)

precisely because of the fact that’d she’d been dating percy for years meant that figuring out the biromantic part took ages lmao

it feels really obvious to her in hindsight

annabeth: ‘oh gods percy i had a crush on thalia, i had a crush on clarisse, i had a flirtationship with piper, i almost had a crush on reyna’

percy, in the middle of his own bi crisis: i know the feeling wisegirl

she doesnt really,, do much?? after figuring out shes bi, annabeth’s already happily in a committed , monogamous relationship, but it feels nice for her to have learned something new about herself

overall i see her as sex neutral/indifferent, she doesnt hate the idea but its not something she’d really intentionally seek out

as mentioned, percy is pretty sex neutral/indifferent (but like, in the allo way) too so the two of them just never really bother lol

quickfire bonus round:

reyna, evidently, is our canon allo-ace queen. this isnt a headcanon i just like reminding people :) she’s also bi/pan oriented (she uses both terms interchangeably)

thalia is aroace and has never once gotten what all the hype is about, she assumed people were joking or like at least overexaggerating when they talked about romance and sex

artemis/diana is also aroace obviously (apollo is pan tho, theyre twins they balance each other out)

frank is demisexual n straight

calypso is demisexual and demi-lithromantic, pan oriented

travis stoll is allo-ace, connor stoll is aro-allo, they think this is hilarious

magnus chase is also greyromantic and demisexual, bi oriented

ok im done

#pjo #percy jackson and the olympians #hoo #heroes of olympus #pjo headcanons #hoo headcanons #any and all aphobes will meet a swift end #oh and percy is totally bi btw like fucking LOOK at him #og post //#*rubs my little aromantic gremlin hands all over your faves*

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yjwhatif · 2 years

Text

YJ EPISODE 26 SPOILER NOTES… part ONE

IT’S THE LAST EPISODE!! 😩

→ Remember who you are Conner... You're Not a killer!

→ New krypton... very inventive

→ "Superboy execute Kal-El Now!" Noooo!

→ I see, so he's not dead

→ Awww, the pain in Dicks voice at thinking everyone was dead 🙁 - yeah… its not fun thinking everyone's dead, is it Dick!?

→ HEY, I was right about Saturn Girl getting her message a cross and faking everyone's deaths... there's not many of my thoughts that have come to pass this season - so I’m taking that as an absolute win!

→ M'gann and Dick's bond is like Violet and vic's to me in the way that I always forget its as strong as it is, until they share the screen together and then I'm like - oh yeah, they do have a sweet friendship.

→ STORYTIME!

→ I love when the invincible characters rush forward to protect the others without a seconds thought… just gonna add this to the list of reasons I love Orion!

→ "Faking your deaths - our best trick... one we've gotten way too good at” You can say that again!

→ Lesson #1 of becoming a hero... learn to play possum

→ Danny mention!

→ "And Rocket?” “She didn't make it "… Like heck she didn't!

→ “…But We'll have to mourn Raquel later." I feel like Dick’s or someone else has previously said this phase before about something else?

→ Oh hey, I never realised she includes Danny in the list of people they need to help

→ "I can set the prince up with medical supplies to tend to the wounded... but Foragers down for the count. " Two things - ① Bart looks so sad as he says this! And ② Why does he specifically say the prince... I don't know why my brains so focused on questioning this - there's absolutely no need for it to be - but here we are... Does J’emm know anything about Medical practice? Or is it because he's not a superhero so he doesn't get to fight the evil kryptonians... M’gann’s like, You are definitely not coming because I am not dealing with the liability of you getting killed on earth... we’ve already had two close calls - I'm not risking a third! Can you imagine the shit storm that would be caused by J’emm - the Martian Prince - getting killed on EARTH under the watchful eye of Miss Martian and the other Earthian heroes! That would be a very awkward conversation… though on a brighter note we found Conner alive... please don’t attack us!… I DON'T KNOW WHAT THIS IS ANYMORE?!

And back to my actual notes...

→ Bioship spitting out the treadmill like - Get that shit out of my mouth right now... and you young Man (Bart) are BANNED from travelling on me again... or at least until you make it up to me for all the trouble I’ve had to put up with!

→ BABY TO THE RESCUE!

→ I love the perky music they use for Baby!

↳ Aww Conner & superman flashbacks! These are so cute! UNCLE CONNER IS SO ADORABLE - We need to see more of him and Jonny actually interacting - as that is something we have still yet to see beyond pictures!

→ "I can't kill him again... he's family" yes! that is the CORRECT answer Conner!

→ Shut up Lor!

→ Shut up Ursa!

→"YOINK!"

→ GO KID GO! Of course he’s the first to arrive!

→ Lor you leave him alone, you little Shit!

→"JECTED!"

→ GO TEAM GO!

→ Hit him with that bus!

→... Do you think Kaldur knows how to drive? (These are the important questions!)

→ We’re on a deadline M’gann! Stop being Sentimental!

→ "You're a ball of Sunshine hiding a terrifying Demigoddess!" Hey - that's the thing that Emily says on the WHELMED Podcast! That is so Cool! And it just emphasises how Grandon do genuinely listen and value the fans/fandom!

→ Gotta love an exploding arrow... Y'know, unless its Bart who's holding it

→"DOUBLE YOINK!"

→ I love the comparison of Bart saving Artemis vs Wally saving her - Wally and Artemis were in sync - Bart and Artemis definitely aren’t - but the same intent is there… I really wanna see more Bart and Artemis dynamic!

→ Burn M’comm burn!

→ "TRIPLE YOINK!"

→ Bart will you stop touching random shit! Also that was a very prolonged electrocution... I wonder if it might cause some lasting effect that will come back to haunt him later?

→"KID!'" - Artemis cares! I really want to see their bond explored!!

→ No Conner - we don't kill our friends!

→ Let me translate Mother Box here... "Eww! I'm in the sewers!!"

→ YAY! DANNY RETURNS!! I hoped he would!

→ Piss off M'comm!

→ Dick + Artemis team up - Gotta love Team No Powers

→ Go wake him up M’gann!

→ (Mufasa Voice) Remember… Who you are!

→ I feel like we get a Supermartian montage every Season…

→ “Hi” “Hi” — aww, they're doing the Heartstopper thing - CUTE 🥰

→ Supermartian are finally reunited!

→ I love how they're breaking up the the high energy action with these softer/quieter moments

→ "Kaldur you keep Zod occupied!" Yes, that's what I doing, DICK!

→ It's not Young Justice without someone getting knock out by their own teammate (it's my favourite recurring image of the show!)

→ ZODs VS ELs — Give 'em hell boys!

→ No M’gann!

→ Yay M’gann!

→ One more fake out death for the road

→ "You wanna be a god... you'll have to go through me!" Proceeds to brain fry Ursa... Give her hell M’gann! Embrace your power!

→ M'comm leave the boy ALONE! He's been through enough!

→ Go Legion Go!

→ Though there is something incredibly impressive about the fact that M’comm was able to spit himself between torturing/Controlling Danny in the Psychic realm and full on fighting Chameleon Boy in the physical realm without breaking a sweat! He really is incredibly powerful!

→ Loving the team work of all the legioneers

→ Give him hell Danny!

→ I love this kid with his little Southern accent! 🥰

→ You tell him Conner! You fight for your home and loved ones!

→ "They're good but not in sync…" “Let's go for the combo" → This gives me s1 Robin & Superboy Vs Batman & Superman energy!

→"STOP TRYING TO KILL MY MAN!" you show him M’gann! Absolutely love this moment!

→ WEST MANOEUVRE! works every time!

→ YAY ROCKET!

→ "I WILL NOT BE CHEATED OF MY REWARD!" I always find it fascinating when we hear these cold and calculated villains convey genuine emotion.

→ I really like the pacing of M’comm’s defeat... everythings kinda wrapping up pretty quickly as everyone gets dropped into the boom tube, then it builds with M’comm’s outburst as if he's gonna make some last ditch attempt at victory. Though this gets cut short by Danny - which I love - stick it to the hypocrite - it continues with the quickness, until M’gann slows things down - and I really love this bit… where M’comm has to live in this moment of defeat with no way of returning from it - all he has is the sight of his sister finally and justifiably cutting ties with him. He may get what he wants in the end but he has lost everything in order to get it.

→ "You were glad Conner was dead"- The intensity of M’gann in this moment is really cool!

→ "NEVER MESS WITH THE EL'S!" followed by a triple wipe out straight back into the Phantom Zone... Bye General! 👋

→ Well, I guess someone had to get away... and of course it had to be the worst of the lot!

→ Oh, Now the Calvary shows up - literally a second after Lor escapes in the timesphere... you guys couldn’t set off literally 10 seconds earlier!

→ Another recurring shot of the show - the arrival of all the other team heroes taking in the aftermath of a mission... its an interesting selection - both Flashes, KF, Wondergirl, Red Tornado, Blue Beethe, Shazam and Black Canary (aka Team Primary Colours)

→ I just noticed 2 things - ① there's a mistake with Bart’s animation - in the long shot he has his bandages, but in the close up he doesn't. ② I don't know if this is actually the case - but it look like Jay is looking at Bart instead of what everyone else is looking at... To me that's the look of someone thinking - You have a lot of explaining to do young man! all while Bart remains blissfully unaware of the trouble he is absolutely going to be in once he gets home.

→ "Superboy are you alright?” "Fine, feeling the aster" - I'm sure Canary's thinking - Yeah, I'm sure you are. I'll book you in for therapy on Monday

→ "So is it over?" "A little bit" - I think that is the perfect sum up of this show - nothing is ever over - and I love that!

→ The legion = the voices of dooms — just take the win for what its worth guys!

↳ 🎶Even the darkest night will end and the sun will rise!🎶 (insert that meme of ‘if I had a nickel for every les mis reference in this season I would have two nickels... Which isn't that much but its still weird it’s happened twice’) Also I don't know if this is supposed to be a reference to that line of les mis but that's what I think when I see this shot and I really like it!

End of Part ONE…

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alexandcrfm · 2 years

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* & . 〔 joe keery, cismale, he/him 〕 alexander russell is a thirty year old superhuman known to be passionate and cheerful, yet awkward and cautious at the same time. rumor has it they’re a civilian who has power mimicry abilities — you’d never guess it when you see them working at new york presbytarian as a doctor. apparently they’re always listening to someone new by hozier, which makes sense since they kind of also remind me of neatly organised video games, saying every line of your favourite movies, and seeing good in everyone.

BASIC INFO

name: alexander russell nicknames: alex age: 30 gender & pronouns: cismale, he/him sexuality: bisexual occupation: doctor for new york presbytarian ability: power mimicry. when within a few meters of a superhuman, he is able to copy that person’s powers and keep them indefinitely. however, he can only maintain one person’s power(s) at a time, and if they’re abilities that require skill to use well, he will behave as though he’s new to the abilities until he’s learned how to use them. additionally, his control over his power is currently tied to his emotions, as he doesn’t know he has it. if he is particularly emotional and within range of a superhuman, he is likely to pick up on their power without realising it.

BIO

alex’s parents agreed to enter him into project echo for the money a little before he was born. they’d always wanted a child and were extremely happy to be having one, but they weren’t doing well financially and knew a child was only going to worsen their finances.

when alex showed no signs of any extraordinary powers, he was considered a failed test subject and his parents swore to never tell alex what they’d agreed to have done to him. as far as they knew, nothing had even come of it and they were just a little richer. it didn’t seem like it would be an issue

they raised him well and were amazing parents. the money helped them a great deal, and alex lead a good, mostly normal childhood

he was bullied horribly in school for his nerdy interests like sci-fi movies, reading, comics, etc., for being considered a know it all, and for being considered ‘strange’. he became quieter because of this, only seeming to come out of his shell and talk about his interests with those he loved and/or deeply trusted for most of his childhood. more recently he’s become a lot less ashamed of the things he loves and is more openly himself.

has always been a big fan of superheroes but still acknowledges that superpowers can be dangerous in the wrong hands. still, he thinks that everyone is capable of good and doing good and he admires those who were once in the liberty league; they saved people and made the world a better place.

went into medicine so that he could also do good and help the world be a better place like those heroes, or like the fictional characters he admires in his favourite media. he had the smarts and the passion, and although he knew it would be a long, tough journey, he knew that the outcome would be more than worth it.

is now a really good doctor. he’s gentle and understanding, and he has the knowledge he needs to do the best job possible. he really cares about his patients and wants what’s best for them.

MISC

autistic

hobbies include: gaming, drawing, reading. would love to get into dnd but is too shy to find people who’re interested in playing

if you get him talking about his interests, he could go on and on for hours. he has so much love and passion that he might never shut up

is working through the process of loving and accepting himself. it’s a hard road, but he’s getting there. fake it til you make it!

believes everyone is capable of good and everyone is worthy of love.

as mentioned above, he doesn’t know about his powers! hanging around other supers is going to be Very Stressful and Confusing for him

i don’t have any specific wanted connections for him but i’m definitely open to ideas! friends, exes, ex bully, etc. anything goes!

#dhq:intro #about.#pinned.

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mythvoiced · 1 year

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@tewwor | ♥ | Circe

---

The domains of gods are usually relatively easy to pinpoint, but perhaps that was an assumption he’d been far too confident about, because when he’d first encountered the sorceress, she hadn’t felt nearly as defined as any of the Olympians.

It’s only later he’d realise the reason why: the Gods wishing it so.

Or perhaps it was her wish, he had no true way to tell.

All he could tell for sure was how her power felt... so different to the one the Olympians shared. Different, the way Chaos was, as if part of the grand scheme of things, but older, and yet less revelled. Or different the way Hermes was, who abides to his own rules, who’s boons make Zagreus’ tendons burn in the best of ways but don’t add to something of nature to his blade.

Her, on the other end, oh, so much of nature lies in the power she shares, he sometimes wonders if herbs wilt at the idea she may never make use of them. Not to mention that whenever she spoke of his escape attempts, he can’t help but hear something beneath her words he finds he can’t make out beneath the words of plenty of the other gods.

An understanding intimate enough to leave him wondering. That particular quirk that can’t be faked, that particular choice of words, comraderie almost, in a desire he still struggles to fully explain, even though his reasoning should be so, so clear to understand. Just look at his father.

Just look at his mother.

He stares ahead, and holds onto her power cursing through him as if he’s not quite ready to make a choice, lest she might leave too fast. “Lady Circe,” the meadows of Elysium, cleared in this corner, near-invisible shields and bows and spears floating mid-air, awaiting the return of their heroes, the very heroes they represent. Zagreus wonders, what might have been their names?

“Don’t get me wrong for asking this, I am more than grateful to your aid, and I wish that one day I might be able to repay it in full and return the kindness you bestow upon me, but... why are you helping me?”

#tewwor #the son;zagreus #oohoho.... OOOOOH I WAS SHAKING SO BAD I AM SHAKING IN ME BOOTS I'M SO EXCITED ABOUT THIS #I HOPE IT'S OKAY IF? I TOOK IT THIS WAY--#the moment i wrote 'Lady Circe' i collapsed on the floor i instantly keeled over straight up passed out

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dhwty-writes · 3 years

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The Terribly Sad and Tragic Affair that Is the Fake Funeral of Shadowhand Essek Thelyss

Apparently, I am not only drawing for the Critical Role fandom, but writing for it, too. After months of nearly no progress I just vomited out 3k words this Tuesday and it only went downhill from there.

This fic is based on this post by @anne-o-nyme, I really hope I managed to capture the energy of it.

Have fun!

Summary: There were eight strangers in the foyer of his dead brother's towers and Verin Thelyss was slowly losing his patience.

After the sudden "death" of Shadowhand Essek Thelyss, it is his brother Verin's job to empty out his towers. The Mighty Nein show up to help (and maybe steal a few things).

OR: Verin is grieving, Essek just wants his stuff back, and the Mighty Nein are the Mighty Nein.

Warnings: I didn't tag this with MCD, because Essek is technically alive and kicking. Since Verin doesn't know that though, and this fic is written from his POV, this is dealing with grief and includes depictions of depressive thoughts as well as anxiety attacks. For more explicit warnings, please mind the tags on AO3. Take care of yourselves, and let me know if I forgot anything.

Read on AO3

There were eight strangers in the foyer of his dead brother's towers and Verin Thelyss was slowly losing his patience. "Listen," he said with what little calm he had left, "I know that by returning one of our beacons you became heroes of the Dynasty and were placed under Es— My bro— his stewardship. But this here—" he gestured vaguely at the interior of Essek's towers that had always been too cold, too empty, but not like now, never like now— "This is a very difficult situation for me, so if you could please leave, that would be greatly appreciated."

"Yes, yes, it's very sad that Essek died," the blue tiefling said—Jester, her name was Jester; she had given him that already as she had offered him her condolences with a hug—and Verin could barely contain his anger. After the funeral he had quite enough of lying dignitaries, nobles, and heroes currying favours with him. That had always been Essek's thing, he would know what to do, how to make them regret even daring to speak up; Verin had never been any good at it.

"But we're his friends!" He grit his teeth at Jester's blatant falsehood. Perhaps his anger showed on his face, since the tiefling faltered. "And, uh— Fjord?"

"It's true," the half-orc with too-smooth words and too-smooth voice lied, too. "We spent quite some time with your, er— your brother here. Made some good memories. We thought we might take this as our chance to say goodbye, too."

"We are here to help as well. We wouldn't want to infringe upon your grief, though," the tall firbolg added. "So, if you'd prefer us to return at a later point, we'd be happy to."

Verin was still trying to process everything—from these strangers showing up unannounced to their overwhelming presence to the fact that his brother was dead—while simultaneously trying to keep an eye on the halfling who looked like she might have sticky fingers. So, he latched onto the word that stood out the most to him: "Help?"

"Right," Fjord said, looking slightly embarrassed, "we probably should have led with that..."

"We should have called ahead, too," the scary-looking human in blue—they didn't even wear white for the funeral—added. "We always forget to call ahead."

"But Beau, how should we have called ahead?" Jester complained. "We didn't know Verin yet."

"Well, Essek—" the human was interrupted by the even scarier-looking woman next to her stepping on her foot unsubtly. She at least had the decency to act embarrassed. "Right. Sorry 'bout that."

Awkward silence fell across the room, the Mighty Nein looking anywhere but him. It took him a few moments to realise they were waiting for him to speak up. "Help how?" Verin could have kicked himself. By the Light, he could do better than that. He had to do better than that.

A beat of silence followed, then everyone seemed to talk at once. Verin wanted to weep. How was he supposed to deal with this? How had his brother dealt with this? 'He probably hasn't,' he thought. 'They're probably all liars, probably—'

Someone cleared their throat and all eyes turned to the other human who hadn't said anything so far and who looked properly miserable. Immediately, the Mighty Nein fell silent. "Word has reached us that Den Thelyss ordered these premises to be vacated as early as possible," he said quietly with an accent Verin has been taught that belonged to the enemy. "And while some of us may not look like much, I can assure you, we are quite capable."

His eyebrows shot up to his hairline. "I supposed such menial tasks are beneath the heroes of the dynasty. There are servants—"

"Well, sure," the halfling with the probably sticky fingers interrupted, "but we know him. Knew him, I mean; sorry, force of habit."

"Besides, there's a lot of stuff," the lavender tiefling, who Verin was pretty sure was a known pirate, piped up. "Looks like you could use the help."

"If you want to, of course," the sad Empire human added.

Verin only wanted to scream, to give room to the torrent of thoughts raging in his head. 'My brother just died. My brother just died and he wasn't consecuted, so he's gone for good. He's gone for good and I didn't even know him; I didn't even know about these supposed friends he had because he didn't allow me near him in decades. I was a horrible brother and so was he, but I can't even be mad at him because he's dead.

'And now these liars show up and talk about friendship and knowing him, but those are all lies, horrible ones, because Essek had no friends. Essek was cold and cruel and lonely and do you even know how horrible that is? Dying alone with no-one who mourns you, just the favours you still owe them? Do you? I don't even know, and I'm his brother.'

Were he a weaker man, a less disciplined one, he might have said so. But he was Taskhand Verin of Den Thelyss and he had learned discipline before he had learned to talk. So, he said: "Your help would be greatly appreciated, thank you. I'll have the servants bring up some tea. There are, uh—" He straightened his back, summoning the composure that was befitting a Taskhand, even one with a dead brother. "There are boxes up there, they've been brought to the rooms already. Anything of value will be sold; the rest will be given to charity. The things— Well, if you find anything that might have sentimental value, something in his handwriting, perhaps, I think I should like to keep that, please."

The firbolg nodded sagely. "Of course. We will be careful with our selection."

With that, Verin turned around and— froze. Where was he even supposed to start? The towers had always seemed to huge for just Essek and he knew that there were very few personal belongings in them. Still, they would have to be scoured clean within the fortnight.

A large hand on his shoulder made him jump, although he'd never admit it. "Sometimes, when a task seems too large, you should start with the smallest part," the firbolg said. "If I were you, I'd start with the smallest room."

"Thank you, that, uh— that seems like good advice," Verin replied, still a bit startled and confused. "I, er— I'm afraid I didn't catch your name."

"Caduceus Clay. I live in a graveyard, so I'm used to this," Clay said, as if it was the most normal thing in the world.

Verin furrowed his brows slightly. A graveyard? It seemed highly unlikely to him that one of the heroes of the Dynasty would live in a graveyard of all places. Perhaps they were not only liars, but impostors too? But they had the symbols of the Bright Queen, so there wasn't much that he could say.

"Right," he mumbled. "I believe the smallest room would be the closet. Although it might be tied with the bathroom..." He trailed off again. He had never seen Essek's bedroom in his towers. Judging by how many times he had even seen the inside of the building; he could count himself lucky if he even found the way there.

"Why don't we split up?" Clay suggested. "One group takes the closet, one the bathroom and one the bedroom. We'd get done sooner that way."

"That is a great idea, Caduceus," Jester said excitedly. "I'll take the bathroom; I promised— er, I'm curious if I can find more of that hair oil, I got for Fjord that one time!"

"Ohhh, are you saying this is... an investigation?!" the halfling joined in.

"That's exactly what I'm saying, Veth!"

"Seems like a case for Wildemount's best detectives!"

"Bye, Verin!" Jester called and he blinked and they were gone. Fjord joined them as well, muttering something about having to supervise them.

The purple pirate-tiefling shrugged, heading off in the same direction. "Well, I wouldn't mind rifling through some drawers. I'll have a look at that bedroom."

"Yeah, I don't need to see Essek's underwear, so I'll pass on the closet," Beau added tactfully—Verin was getting the sneaking suspicion that manners were not really her strong suit. She linked hands with the large woman at her side, pulling her along. "Come on, Yash."

"I'll go handle the tea," Clay said. "Don't worry about it." He vanished in the direction of the kitchen, his steps accompanied by the constant tap tap tap of his staff.

When Verin looked around, he realised that only the sad Empire human was left with him in the hallway. "If you wouldn't mind," he said, pointedly avoiding eye-contact, "I would love to have a look at the closet. I always, ah— appreciated your brother's sense of fashion."

Verin blinked at him a few times, then shrugged. "Sure." He began heading up the stairs.

"My condolences," the human continued. "I realise I didn't speak up earlier, but— I am sorry for your loss."

"Thank you," he said, letting the same numb feeling wash over him again that he had embraced since the news of Essek's death had reached him.

"I know that we seem like a bunch of, ah— forgive my language, but assholes, but we're really here to help. I will tell the others to tone it down a bit."

"Thank you," he repeated.

"If you'd prefer that we start in, ah— less personal rooms, we can do that also."

"If I'm perfectly honest, I don't even know what I should be doing there."

"Neither am I." The human laughed nervously. "I have dealt with grief before, but I've never had the, ah— how do you call it? Hang on." He pulled out a copper wire and whispered: "Beau, how do you say zweifelhafte Ehre in Common? You can reply to this message." A moment later he straightened. "Right. I never had the dubious honour of emptying out a deceased person's house before."

"Neither did I," Verin admitted. 'Usually, the deceased person comes back,' he didn't say. Instead, he opted for: "You're, er— What's the word in Common? You're weird? I'm sorry if that's insulting, I just— waele xanalressen [stupid languages]."

"I don't understand your words, but I think I understand the sentiment." The man grimaced. "And I've heard that one before. I hope we're not too much of a... too much."

"It's alright," he lied and opened the door to Essek's bedroom.

It wasn't alright; Verin wanted to weep again.

The door to the bathroom stood ajar, as did several drawers and cabinets, although he couldn't glance inside. Considering that he heard glass shatter and a quiet "oops" followed by a hushed "Jester!" he was rather glad about that. Besides, what he saw was already quite enough to handle. Beau was currently rifling through Essek's nightstand, the tall woman tossing unread books on the bed carelessly, while the lavender tiefling seemed to make his way through his brother's collections of make-up and jewellery alike.

They froze when they spotted him and the sad human in the door. "Heeey, Verin," Beau drawled.

"These were all still closed, I swear," the lavender tiefling said immediately, gesturing at the jars in front of them.

Verin just sighed in defeat. "I don't wear any make-up, I don't care; you can have it. Put the jewellery in the box to be sold; the books are for charity if he hasn't read them. Just leave the earrings in front of the mirror, please. Those were his favourites."

Without another glance at them, Verin headed straight to Essek's closet, desperate to get some quiet. He took a few moments to collect himself, before closing the door and leaning his head against it with a heavy thunk.

He stayed like that for a minute or maybe two until he heard someone clear their throat. "I have been debating for the past fifty-five seconds, if I should just Dimension Door out," the sad human said and Verin very nearly jumped out of his skin, "but that would be loud and I didn't want to startle you. Not that I didn't startle you like this but—"

"Vithin shu," Verin cursed.

"Vithin shu ke," the sad human agreed, his accent in Undercommon even heavier than normally.

For a moment, they both stared at each other, equally startled by the course of events. Then, the human looked away again. "I, ah— have started learning Undercommon before, um— well, before." Verin tried very hard to focus on the way the human was scratching at his forearms; that way he had something else to focus on besides his nearing breakdown.

"This is a bit embarrassing, but, ah— I believe I forgot to introduce myself," the human continued. "I'm Caleb Widogast. Essek and I were... friends, yes, and ah— colleagues, of some sort. It's... complicated."

He scratched at his arms again before turning towards the shelves and pulling out a stack of tunics. He unfolded one, looked at it, then carefully folded it again, cast a cantrip to smooth out the wrinkles, and put it in the charity box. Then he repeated the procedure with the next. And the next. And the next.

Verin frowned, thinking for a moment about his words. There was something about them that seemed painfully familiar, although he couldn't quite remember. Then: "The transmutation specialist."

Widogast looked up in surprise. "Yes."

"Essek told me of you," Verin admitted.

The last time they had seen each other had been here, in these towers, just a few months ago. He had found his brother in his office, pouring over notes for a new spell, alive and healthy as ever. As always, he had entered without knocking. As always, he had pretended to read the notes. Not as always, he had noticed something wrong. "Whose handwriting is that?" he had asked.

"What?" Essek had snapped, his head whipping up. Then, however, his expression had softened. "Oh. A friend's. A colleague, of sorts. He's helping me out, a bit."

"With the spell?" Verin had asked incredulously.

"Yes. He's a transmutation specialist; you know that's not my forte. Now give it back, will you?"

"A colleague, huh?" He had grinned and held the paper out of Essek's reach. "Are you sure that's all?"

Perhaps Essek had been sick after all, for the strangest thing had happened: instead of using his floating cantrip to snatch the notes back, he had gotten a dreamy, far-off look in his eyes. He had even smiled with an expression Verin might have called dopey, if it weren't his brother they were talking about. After a few moments, he had snapped out of it, sighed, and said: "It's complicated."

"Did he?" Widogast asked tentatively. "Did he, ah— did he say anything else about me?"

Verin pinned him down with a glare, sizing him up. In hindsight, he should have noticed the thick spellbook at his hip earlier; judging by his slim frame alone, he should have known the man was a wizard. He supposed Widogast was handsome enough, although his brother had never cared much for that, with his copper hair and his striking blue eyes. Blue eyes around which crows' feet were gathering, as he noticed to his dismay. 'He's human,' Verin reminded himself. He might have a few decades left, maybe, whereas Essek had centuries ahead of him. The thought why his brother might condemn himself to more loneliness crossed his mind, though it hardly mattered. His brother had been the first to die, after all.

"Verin?" Widogast inquired quietly.

"I'm sorry," he answered with a thick voice. "I got lost in my thoughts there. He, uhh— he said that he trusted you." That didn't even begin to cover it, but these Mighty Nein had been lying to him since the moment they got here, so what was a little lie by omission? Besides, there were some memories that he wanted to keep just to himself.

"Essek," he had teased, still waving the sheet of paper out his reach. "Come on! Aren't we brothers?"

Essek had crossed his arms and pouted. He hadn't done that since they were both little. "Unfortunately. You are a menace. And a child."

"If you tell me about him, I'll give it back. Is he handsome? Is he a drow? Where's he from? How did you meet? When will I meet him? Can I promise to kill him if he hurts you?"

"Verin!" Essek had groaned and hid his face in his hands.

"What do you do when you meet? I bet you stay up all night, talking about 'arcane research' or something."

"We do, in fact. Are you done now?"

"Oh, is that what young people call it these days?" He had cackled at his own joke.

"Evidently not," Essek had muttered. "Might I remind you that you're younger than me?"

"Might I remind you that you're a buzzkill?" Verin had shot back and placed the note down. He had gotten bored of his own game.

Essek had taken the sheet of paper almost reverently and thanked him. "I would have hated it to rewrite that page." He had smoothed it down, stored it safely away in a folder, silent for a long time. Then, he had said: "Caleb."

"Excuse me?"

"That's his name," Essek had said. "Caleb Widogast."

Verin had frowned. "Hey, Essek?"

"Hm?"

"You must trust him a lot, to share a spell with him."

His brother had taken a shuddering breath and closed his eyes. Verin hadn't expected him to answer, yet he'd said: "I do, actually. It's not the first spell we've created together and I would be honoured to create a thousand more with him. I'd trust him with my life, my death, and beyond. I think—" He'd huffed. "I think I trust him almost as much as I trust you."

Verin watched Widogast as he was looking through his brother's tunics, placing most of them in the charity box, and he wondered. Wondered if the trust Essek had obviously put in Widogast had been misplaced. Wondered if it had extended to his friends, as well. Wondered if ultimately trust had been his downfall, as he'd always feared.

Then again, if Essek had trusted him... perhaps that trust had been mutual. Perhaps they had been friends. Perhaps there was another person mourning his brother after all.

"Do I have something on my face?" Verin had given up on counting how many times Widogast had now startled him out of his thoughts.

"No, no I—," Verin stammered. "I'm sorry."

He tilted his head to the side. "For staring?"

"No, er— For your loss." Liar or no liar, it only seemed appropriate.

"Oh." Widogast turned back to the tunics. Verin probably should get started, too, shouldn't he? "Thank you. Though I'd wager your loss weighs heavier than mine."

"Probably," he agreed and turned to the task at hand. At this point, Widogast had moved on from the simple tunics to Essek's court regalia. After a short moment of consideration, Verin decided to look through the pants; he also had no interest in sorting through his dead brother's underwear.

Out of the corner of his eye he kept watching the wizard, pulling out one cloak after the other. At a few he wrinkled his nose, at others he just stared before putting them with the tunics. After a while one made him pause; an elaborate, beautiful robe in deep purple. "This is what he was wearing when we first met him," he said.

'He hated that one,' Verin thought. Not that he could say that out loud. Instead, he cocked his head and asked: "Are you sure? He has a lot of those. Had, I mean. Had a lot of those."

"Yeah, I'm sure." He tapped his temple with a faint smile. "I have a good memory."

"As does Essek," he snapped, suddenly feeling very defensive about his brother's capabilities. "I suppose most wizards do."

Infuriatingly, Widogast only nodded. "Indeed. Or they're not very good ones."

Silently, Verin turned back to the trousers. The sooner he got done, the sooner he got these people out of his brother's towers, the better. He didn't know for how long they worked in silence, Verin reminiscing about the times he had seen Essek wear the clothes and wondering about those he didn't know. Eventually, he folded the last of them and forced himself to return to the present. "I think we're done here," he announced. "Do you have a preference for a next room?"

"Perhaps the library?" Widogast offered a tentative smile. "I think I might be of more use there than folding clothes."

"More use than I will be, surely."

"I take it the wizardry doesn't run in the family, then?"

Verin only scoffed and opened the door to the bedroom again.

He immediately spotted Beau leafing through one of the books Essek had never read, while the tiefling was chatting amiably with the aasimar while braiding her hair. He also noted the boxes neatly stacked in the middle of the room. Besides that, he noticed with a heavy heart, the room looked much the same. If anything, it looked less orderly and empty than before. Except for—

"Where are Essek's earrings?" Verin demanded to know.

"What earrings?" the lavender tiefling replied with a too-wide grin the same moment Beau said: "Dude, there's tons of them, why don't—"

"No," he said decisively. "Essek's favourite earrings; they're always up here. I told you about them. Where are they?" His hands curled into fists, his neatly manicured fingernails pressing almost painfully into his skin.

"Perhaps you should look in one of the boxes," the aasimar woman suggested "I'm sure they're—"

"You're lying," Verin interrupted her, barely containing his anger. "Why are you lying? If they're in one of the boxes, then only because you put them there. So: where are they?"

Widogast only now stepped out of the closet, wearing an amber necklace he hadn't noticed before. "Verin—" he said tentatively, but he'd had enough.

"Shut up!" He startled himself with how loud his voice was. But he was beyond caring. "I know they're not in there, because the only ones to put them in there would have been you. So, either you're lying about having them put in there, or you're lying about stealing them, I don't care. Just— please. Please give them back."

The four of them passed a guilty glance. "We can't," Beau replied finally.

"The fuck you can't," Verin spat. "Give them back!"

"Verin, love, we would really love to," the tiefling added, "but we can't."

"I don't understand; is it precious things you want? Here, have some!" He strode over to the boxes and ripped the first open, tossing the lid towards the bathroom door Jester was peeking out of. He reached in to grab a necklace—an ugly one, he had always thought, with a stylised beacon—and threw it in their direction.

Beau caught it. Of course.

"Have a whole box, actually, if you like them so damn much." He reached inside and pulled out a jewellery box, tears prickling in his eyes. He threw one of those, too, just for good measure. It gave him some satisfaction that Widogast had to dodge it. "Just give me back the bloody earrings that my brother wore at my fucking consecution!" He was properly crying now and could only imagine the mess he looked like, but he had reached his limit. And, in his opinion, he was allowed to with all that was going on.

At least they looked a little bit guilty. "Fuck man, we didn't know," Beau mumbled.

"It's just one pair, Beau," Jester called over from the bathroom. "I'm sure it will be alright."

"Yes, there's no need for this to escalate," Fjord agreed and strode over to them, his hands raised innocently.

"I don't even know you people," Verin muttered, looking at the people crowding into his brother's bedroom. "Why did I even let you inside?"

"Do you want the earrings back?" the aasimar woman asked, reaching into a bag at her hip. Had she been carrying a greatsword for the whole time? Verin suddenly noticed how overpowered he was, were he to face all of them. "You can have them back if you want. Here, you can have them back."

"For a moment," Widogast added, slowly drawing closer to him and taking the earrings from the aasimar. He held them out on his flat hand, almost like he had seen soldiers offer treats to horses. His whole demeanour reminded him of someone trying to calm a spooked animal. For some reason, that seemed hilarious to him and he couldn't help the hysterical giggle that escaped his throat.

"Verin, I need you to calm down," he continued. "I know that's easier said than done, but you need your head."

"I think we should all calm down," Clay said from the doorway. And despite being surprised again, he did. It didn't make any sense, but few things these days did.

"Did it work?" the halfling asked. Verin wasn't really sure what she was talking about.

"It did," Clay confirmed.

"Gut," Widogast said and pressed the earrings that had seemed so important a moment ago into Verin's hands. "I think we should maybe go somewhere else, ja? Will you come with me?"

Inadvisable as it might be, if Essek had trusted that man, he should, too. And out of all of the Nein, he seemed to be the most normal one. The one he could see Essek with most. So, he nodded.

"I'll get us back to the kitchen, quickly." Caleb held out his hand and Verin closed his eyes, steeling himself. 'I hate Dimension Door,' was the last thing that crossed his mind before the teleportation spell ripped him away, together with: 'We haven't been to the kitchen, yet.'

Evidently, there went something wrong with the spell. Verin didn't know much about magic, but he knew Dimension Door couldn't transport more than two people. So, when he heard Beau groan and say "Fuck, dude, warn us next time," he knew that something wasn't right.

"You knew about the plan, Beauregard," Widogast replied.

"It doesn't matter," Fjord decided. "Caduceus, do you think you could make tea again? I think the Calm Emotions is about to wear off."

Cautiously, Verin opened one eye, then the other. They were, in fact, standing in a kitchen, as far as he could tell. All of the Mighty Nein were surrounding him. The furniture seemed to have been made for people taller than them; Essek probably would need to float in order to avoid awkwardly climbing onto the chair. The firbolg, however, who was fussing with a teapot, seemed to fit right in. All in all, the interior was very rustic. And very much not in Essek's towers, not that he had ever seen that room, of course.

The panic hit him once more. Verin whirled around to the wizard, instinctively grasping for his sword. "Where the fuck—" he faltered, finding his hip bare. Of course, he hadn't brought it for the funeral. Instead, he opted for just grasping Widogast by the lapels and lifting him up a bit. It was supposed to be menacing, which surely would be more effective, were humans not so annoyingly tall. "Where the fuck are we?!" he spat out.

A lot of things seemed to happen at once—he heard a "Fuck, man, what-" from Beau, a "Well, Mister Thelyss" from the pirate, several hands trying to tug him away from the weak wizard—but he didn't pay them any mind. He just shook Widogast, who looked entirely too calm for his liking, and demanded: "Answer me!"

"Leave him," was all Widogast said. "He has every right to be angry."

Indeed, the people grasping at him retreated, still on guard and surrounding him. There was a creak outside the door and Verin desperately wished for his sword once more. Then, a voice cut through the tense silence that had descended over the kitchen: "Caleb, is that you? You're back early."

"Yeah, there were some complications. Best come and look yourself, Schatz."

There was a sigh that was entirely too familiar for Verin's liking. Then, the door opened with a creak and in walked a dead man. "Complications," Essek Thelyss said with a fond smile. "I was just a Sending away, what did you come here fo— oh."

The person wearing his brother's face stopped in their tracks as they saw him. A couple of complicated emotions passed over his face—confusion, surprise, regret, guilt. If he hadn't known before, Verin was certain now that they were impostors, all of them. His brother would never tolerate such a display of weakness. Still, the impostor said: "Hello, brother."

Verin whipped his head back around to the wizard in his grasp. "What the fuck are you playing at?" he hissed.

"I- what- Verin!" the Essek-impostor sputtered. "What are you doing; put him down!"

"I would appreciate that, yes," Widogast added.

"Not before you don't tell me what's going on."

"Going on?" The impostor sneered and shook his head in a perfect imitation of his brother. "Nothing is going on, Verin."

"You died," he accused him.

"Evidently not," Essek scoffed.

Verin narrowed his eyes, looking from the man claiming to be his brother over the other too calm wizard to the rest of the Nein, seemingly perfectly happy to let this play out. "Prove it," he demanded. "Tell me something only my brother would know."

"You've become paranoid," he noted and Verin couldn't decide if it sounded proud or disappointed. "Alright. When you and I were in our early thirties, you once got in trouble for scaling the outside of mother's mansion. Rightfully, I should have gotten in trouble, too, but I was hiding on the attic. And the reason you never told anyone, is because then you'd have had to explain that I, the wizard, had somehow outpaced you, the fighter, in a climbing competition."

Verin wrinkled his nose at that. "Well, my brother cheated."

"I did not cheat, thank you very much!" He huffed indignantly and crossed his arms. "You didn't say 'no magic' before we started."

He stared at Essek for a few moments. "It's you," he whispered.

"Obviously."

Verin dropped the wizard on the ground and looked over at his brother; really looked. The man looked nothing like the one he had known for most of his life. His hair was longer than it had ever been since he'd cut it off and his bare feet were touching the ground. His clothes were casual, a simple tunic and trousers. After this day, Verin knew for a fact that not even Essek's trancing clothes were that informal, and yet his brother looked more comfortable in them in another's house than he had in decades. On top of that, he kept glancing over to Widogast. And smiling. Essek was smiling.

No, this man looked nothing like the one Verin had known for nearly a century. But he looked a lot like his brother.

"You're alive," he said stupidly.

"Yes, of course I am," Essek said, as if Verin hadn't just attended his funeral.

It felt only right to tell him so: "Why are you alive? I was at your funeral."

"That's a long story," he sighed and floated onto one of the chairs that were slightly too tall for him. He accepted a cup of tea from Clay with thanks and turned back to Verin. "Why are you here?"

"Well, that's a pretty long story, too," Jester spoke up. "He kind of started freaking out about your earrings, I think? And he was crying and looking pretty awful and everything, right Caleb?"

"I, ah— didn't think he'd believe us if we told him about you," Caleb said. "So, we had agreed beforehand to bring him here, in case of an emergency."

"He thought we were lying," Clay added.

"I suppose it is my story to tell," Essek said. "Earrings, Verin?"

"They're your favourite," Verin said stupidly and held them out to him.

His face grew soft. "Oh," he said as he took them gingerly, "I didn't know that you kne—"

Before he could overthink and do something stupid like stop himself, he surged forward and enveloped his brother in a tight hug. After a moment Essek closed his arms around him, too.

It seemed so unreal, to be able to hold him after mourning him for what felt like years. All the worries, all the grief and anger that had crushed him in the past few weeks and for what? For the bastard to still be alive after all. It wasn't fair. Why had he had to go through all of that? And why did he feel the pressing urge to start crying again? He should be happy, shouldn't he, that his brother wasn't dead. So why did it make him feel so awful?

"I think this is our cue to leave," Fjord said. Verin felt his brother nod and heard the Mighty Nein shuffle out of the kitchen, the door closing behind them with a creak.

Only then, Essek spoke up. "Verin," he asked quietly, "are you crying?"

"Shut up," he mumbled through the thick fog of tears and snot, definitely not crying. "I hate you, Essek. Do you know what I went through?"

"Meeting the Mighty Nein? Yes, I can imagine."

"They're horrible," he complained. "They're loud and they're rude and they had absolutely no respect for any of your belongings! I thought I was going mad."

"They are. They also are my friends, you know."

"How?" he asked agonised.

"I know they don't look like it, but they are surprisingly capable. And I am sure that you've noticed most of them to be annoyingly charming. But I think their absolute worst traits are their infinite stubbornness and perseverance. They quite literally did not leave me alone until they had befriended me."

Verin glanced up at him questioningly. "And were half in love with the wizard?" he guessed.

Essek scowled darkly, a faint blush colouring his cheeks. "Perhaps."

He snorted and disentangled himself from their embrace. Very calmly he said: "You're a liar."

Essek looked genuinely startled at that. "What?"

"You said, you trusted me more than him. Why then, did he know and I didn't?"

"It's... complicated," he said.

"You wizards say that a lot."

"Verin." Essek closed his eyes. "I trust you. Implicitly. And I care about you. Which is why I chose not to burden you with the knowledge of my misdeeds. I didn't— I didn't want to put you in an impossible situation to choose between me and our queen."

He laughed nervously. "What on earth are you talking about? I mean, you didn't commit treason or anything."

Essek didn't answer, avoiding eye-contact instead.

"Right?"

Still, Essek kept stubbornly quiet.

"Oh," Verin breathed. He took a moment trying to reconcile what he knew about his brother with the fact that he was apparently a traitor. It all fit together ridiculously easy. "The beacons."

Essek looked up at him in shock and he knew he had hit the mark. "What?"

"You stole the beacons." Now that he thought about it, it made perfect sense. Essek had been studying them at the time, one of the only people with frequent access to them. He had always been fascinated by them, yet his theories had been rejected for their heretic nature. As Shadowhand, he had also regular contact with counterparts from the Empire, albeit not officially. Then, a few years after Essek’s research had been denied, they had vanished. How had he never seen this before?

"Oh Essek...," he said softly.

"No, please— I don’t—Please don’t—” He seemed to deflate, curling in on himself. “I'm sorry. I shouldn't have told you, I—”

"I don't care,” Verin interrupted his frantic ramblings.

"What?" Essek looked up at him, looking just as shocked as Verin felt.

“I don’t care,” he repeated, realising that it was true the moment the words left his mouth. For how could he care about something as trivial as treason when Essek was sitting right in front of him, alive and well. "You're my brother, I don't care. Maybe tomorrow. Maybe in a year. Maybe in ten. Right now, I only care that you're alive."

“I—What—I don’t—” Essek stuttered, lifting and then lowering his hands a few times. “I don’t know how— If I can—Fuck.”

There was a joke on the tip of his tongue, but even he knew that this wasn’t the right time for it. Essek was obviously trying to tell him something and it took him a minute to decipher that strange behaviour. “Are you asking for a hug?” he hazarded a guess.

An agonised expression passed over his face and for a moment Verin thought there were tears gathering in his brother’s eyes. Surely not. “I don’t know if I may. I don’t mean to overstep—”

Without further ado, Verin stepped forward and gathered a yelping Essek up and squeezed him tightly. “Of course you may!” he assured him, awkwardly patting his shaking shoulders. “I love you, Essek. I am very glad that you’re alive.”

“I’m very glad to see you, too,” Essek answered and squeezed him a little tighter.

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cinnamonruts · 3 years

Text

⤷ cafe kacchan week

SUMMARY → when the bakusquad ‘challenges’ bakugou by simply stating that no one would date him; he knows he can’t get a girlfriend in one afternoon so he asks the only girl he knows to be his fake girlfriend for the day. easy right?

PAIRING → bakugou katsuki x fem!reader

GENRE → fluff, romance ( childhood friends/fake-dating )

A/N → happy birthday to our boom-boom-bitch ( unedited / not proof-read )

MASTERLIST → if you want to read other works of mine

“MAN WITH A PERSONALITY like that you are never getting a girlfriend.” Kaminari says boldly yet again reminding the ash blond of his stinking pile of trash fire personality showing off he has no fear of death.

As Jirou raise a brow onto him, “You don’t have a girlfriend either.” she reminds him, “He doesn’t— but he can.” Kirishima tries a shallow attempt at helping the boy, “Very bold of you to assume anyone wants to date him.” Jirou rebuts, twisting her earplug around her finger.

“Since when was it the dunk on Denki club? We were talking about Kacchan, have you ever seen him with a girl?”

Causing them to hum and discuss between themselves; trying to think of a time he has been consistently been nice to a girl whom he has been around long enough to be dating. Completely not ignoring him and in the process annoying the shit out of him.

“I have a girl friend and she likes me exactly the way I am.” he announces to the group. Making them look sceptically among themselves not quite sure what to say, “Then invite her.” Sero challenges.

“I will.”

“Can you believe them, they think I can never have a girlfriend?” he asks. Shrugging you take another mouth full, vacuuming the bowl of ramen into your stomach, “I don’t know, I’m pretty sure I’m the only childhood friend you have left.”

“That doesn’t mean shit, dumbass!”

Looking up he is staring daggers at his bowl, “Yeah, well… Most girls don’t like you screaming at them, or calling them bad names.” you tell him, sipping your water.

“Whatever.”

Having the waiter replace your bowl with ramen with new ones, you watch her place a hambuger down. Which you always down for as you glance between it and the blond he slides it closer to you, smiling softly.

“You never let me have this,” you say. Narrowing your eyes as you make your voice deeper, “you will die of if you keep eating this shit, ( y/n ).” mimicking the boy, “and now you are actively giving this…” you say suspiciously.

“Just eat it.”

Humming you take a bite of your hambuger, “That can only mean you want something.” you say with your mouth full. Cringing his nose he ignores it for the sake to continue his story, “I told them that I have a girl friend.” Katsuki starts.

Making you hum, “The imaginary space bar trick.” you tease, taking a sip of your drink.

“And we are going to this ramen shop on Saturday.” he says, ignoring my statement completely. Raising a brow at what he’s insinuating, “That’s tomorrow.” you say, playing dumb.

“I know.”

“You don’t have a girlfriend.”

“Connect the dots, shitty women.”

Rolling your eyes, “I know what your asking; I just want you to say it.” you tell him. Making the blond groan as he hangs his head back, “Fine,” sighing dramatically, like it is the worst inconvenience for him to ask.

Mumbling something along the lines of wanting you to do this for him which you honestly half-heard but you wanted to fully hear it, “I can’t hear you.” you tease.

“Will you be my fake girlfriend?” he sighs.

Moving along the table, you hug him thightly, “Ahw, Katsuki, I thought you would never ask.” rubbing your cheek against his teasingly, “Yeah, yeah.” he mumbles annoyed, yet not pushing you off.

Pulling away you hold a finger up, “One thing tho.” you say, your face as serious as you can muster — which is not very serous — “What now?” he sighs.

“You pay for today and for me tomorrow.”

“I pay for you all the time.”

Tilting your head you think back to all the times you hadn’t spend a penny as you ate anyway. Not even realising it, “I guess you do. Never really realise that.” you hum. Shrugging it off, you smile at him, “Can’t wait to meet them.”

“They aren’t that great.” he denies. Raising a brow you try to repress your smile, “They truly are heroes if they are dealing with you.” you say. Making him glare at you, “Shut up—”

“Do I need me to do anything special?” you cut off, not wanting to be kicked out and banned of yet another restaurant. Sighing, he shakes his head, “No, not really. Just be yourself… but like my girlfriend.” taking a bite of food.

Humming you nod, finishing your hambuger off, “That doesn’t sound too hard.” you mumble, washing it down with some water. Glancing back at him as he stayed silent, he looks at you with an odd expression, “What?” you ask confused.

“You make it sound weird.” he tells you, eating his food as he does. Not understand it, you shrug,“I know you very well.”

“Just be on time.”

STANDING IN FRONT OF the restaurant the Bakusquad waits for the seemingly imaginary girlfriend, “She is coming.” he repeats when he sees the look on their face.

“Dude, you can just be honest.”

“I’m not lying!”

Finally spotting the spikey blond hair from afar, you run. Cursing yourself for missing your train. You tried to do it all right, just to be a good fake girlfriend for him, you didn’t even know why you tried so hard.

Sighing relieved that he was still alone, you hug his arm like always, “I’m so sorry for being late, Kacchan. I wanted a drink for on the train but then this older lady from the grocery store, you know the one. She kept going on and on and I couldn’t get her to stop—” you rant.

A small smile tucks up his lips at your ramble, “It’s fine.” he reassures, putting his hands in his pockets, “Are you Bakugous girlfriend?”

You freeze at the sudden extra voice. Turning to the voice you spot; a pink girl, a red-haired guy, a yellow-haired guy, a girl with earphones, and a guy with tape elbows.

Blinking at the group, nodding slowly, “Ashido… right?” you ask, suddenly feeling a lot more nervous. Making you subconsciously holding his arm closer to your chest.

Nodding at your answer, she tilts her head, “Katsuki has told me loads about you. All of you; it is hard to get actual names, tho.”

“I’m dunce face.” The yellow-haired boy says. Making the girl with purple hair roll her eyes, you're pretty sure her name is Jirou, he talks nicely about her, “His name is Kaminari, I’m Jirou.” the girl introduces.

“I’m Kirishima.”

“Sero Hanta.”

Nodding you try to not forget their names, “I’m ( l/n ) ( y/n ).” you tell them, “Are we going to stay outside or eat?” Katsuki asks.

Walking to the room, all of you wait outside to decide who is going to sit where before you move into the room. Letting them discuss where they want to sit and taking the seat that is left, “She should have the corner seat.” Jirou says breaking the discussion up.

“I want the corner seat.” Kaminari-kun cried out, “I never get the corner seat.” he pouts,

“You can have the corner seat.” you reassure. As Ashido takes your shoulders, “No, no, she is the bakusquad guest. She should have the good spot.” she tells you.

Making Katsuki take you into his arms, “We are not the bakusquad.” he grumbles, “Yes, we are.” Kirishima says, “No, we are not.” he denies, placing you into the seat she let you to anyway. Making the pinkette smile cheekily, “Which school do you go to?” Sero-run asks.

“You should not interrogate her right away!” Ashido whisper-shouts, which is very obvious as she sits in front of you, “It is okay, I go to Seiai. Nothing like U.A.” you tell Sero.

“For support items?” Jirou asks. Making you nod, as you take a sip of your drink, “She designed mine.” Bakugou says for you, “But they all needed to be “for killing’.” you add. Mocking his choice of wording; as even his knee pats needed to be ‘for killing’.

Humming, he sets his tea down, “She is just deflecting because she ‘forgot’ about the shirt.” he says unconvincingly, making it very much so seem like you did it on purpose.

“That was an accident.”

Making him snore, holding his hands up, “Yeah, right an ‘accident’ I’m pretty sure you just did it because you are a perv.” he says in air-quotes, “Am not!” you defend, not being able to stop laughing at the girl on his face.

“Uh-huh, say that to the top you didn’t make.”

“Why did you dating this guy?”

Katsuki his glare, “Want to die today, Racoon-eyes?” he asks her, letting small explosions sound from his hands. Which did not even make her blink.

Pulling his hand down, you smile at the girl, “I know Katsuki can be an asshole, and he is.” you start, “Hey—” he stays, “But, he is actually a really nice guy. He won’t tell you he cares about you all the time, but he will push you to be your best self.” you start

A small smile tucks up your lips as you recall the memory, “I remember when I was young and everyone told me I should be a hero and that was the last thing I wanted to be. And one day in the park I was with this idiot—” poking his cheek, he just watch you carefully, “And he told me about All Might his suit, how cool it was. And the person who made it must have been super smart. Smart like me.”

“I don’t think he even remembers that day, but that made me realise that even though I don’t want to be a hero it doesn’t mean I can’t be useful.” you say softly, feeling kind of dumb for caring so much about what he said when you were kids.

If you had looked at his face at that moment and the soft expression he held. You wouldn’t have felt that way at all, “When I told him I wanted to do something in support he was my biggest supporter.” you chuckle, “Always letting me test my inventions out on him. Never getting seriously angry when he got hurt. Letting me design his suit by just telling me the general vibes he wanted and trusting me to know what he wants.”

“His love language is trust, food, and… I think it’s acts of service.”

Making your brows furrow together at the strangely warm feeling flushing to your body due to you having been caught rambling about your friend so long, “I’m sorry, I have been rambling. What was the question again?”

Looking over their faces, all of his friends look so softly at your statement, “That was so manly.” Kirishima-kun mumbles, holding his fist up. As the rest nods, “That was so cute! You love him so much it is so obvious!” Ashido tells you, rubbing her eyes.

“Yeah, I… I do.” you mumble, shifting your eyes over your fingers before they land on him. The soft look in his eyes reassuring you.

Letting the words sink in, they stayed silent making you a little nervous, “Childhood friends to lovers. I am so jealous!” Kaminari-kun cries out, “How long have you guys been going out?”

“Uh—” we looked at each other. Not having thought about that or discussed it, “6 months.” we say in unison. Making them nod, “We went to middle school together.” he adds, which had nothing to do with it but if it makes it seem more real, it makes sense.

Getting your food, it all went well. You heard more things about Katsuki; mostly stories that you had heard from his perspective that came off really different from theirs. How he always says he is just going ‘out’ on Friday when he is meeting you, but did tell Kirishima he is having lunch with someone but that someone was always a mystery… until now.

Pulling you away from Katsuki. Ashido pulls you into a hug with Jirou, “It was so nice to meet you two,” you tell the two. Making them smile along with you, “We need to hang out.” Ashido tells you.

Nodding at her request, “And I will send you the playlist when I make it. I will be starting tonight.” Jirou adds, “On Line?” Kaminari asks, coming into the conversation, “You can’t have her Line ID, weirdo. Baku-bro will blow you up.” Sero-kun says pulling him away.

Making you chuckle as his face pales at the thought. Glancing at the blond he is nodding as Kirishima-kun is adamantly telling him something. His face naturally soft instead of the frown he makes so often.

Glancing back at the girls, you smile, “Can’t wait. For the playlist and the hangout.” you say, “We will figure something out soon.” Jirou reassures.

“( y/n ).”

Looking up, he nudges his head to the train. The number stating that it is yours, “Don’t forget about us.” Kaminari mumbles, making Jirou roll her eyes.

“I won’t.” you reassure.

Stepping into the train, you take the seat next to Kacchan. The train moving in a matter of seconds. The train cart almost empty. It was quiet, but it wasn’t awkward. It was comfortable as you listen together to the silence. Leaning your head on his shoulder, closing your eyes for a moment, “Tired?”

Nodding against him, you hum, “I will wake you when we are almost there.” he whispers. Relaxing into his warmth, you trust that he will keep you safe as your body shakes with the movements of the train.

But the warmth of the train did not last forever, stepping outside the cold temperature hits you in the face, making goosebumps appear all over. Wincing you want to curse at yourself for the second time today. At not thinking about everything before you left; first not with the drink, and now the jacket. Something you didn’t even realise until now.

Feeling warmth take over you, you look up. Seeing his coat on your shoulder, “No, you will—” you deny, “Just take it.” he grumbles, starting to walk before you continue to deny it.

He eventually slowed down and let you catch up to him. It made you smile, as you teasingly nudge his side which he ignores but the red tips of his ears could not, “Are you blushing?”

“No, it is cold, Shitty Woman.”

“How are you flushing but don’t have any goosebumps.”

“Since when are you a skin doctor?”

Arriving at your house, you grin at him, “Since I am analysing you, Katsuki. Seems like you are a lot nicer than you want people to think.”

“I’m not.” he denies. After it ends, you are not quite sure what you should do now. It was quiet for a moment before you pull him into a hug. Sighing relieved as he wraps his arms around your waist, “Uh, thanks, for today.” he tells you softly.

Rubbing your cheek on to his shoulder, we held each other for a little longer, “That’s what friends are for… Right?” you ask softly, not quite sure if you want him to agree with you or not.

“Right.”

MASTERLIST | TAGLIST → @tsukkisbae @lovinnoya @tanakasimpcorner @lonelyweeb77 @suga-tofu @tanakasprayer @honeykami @intense-socks @bakugoubiddies @melodysakura @littlemaladaptivedaydreamer @melodyofroses @softiehawks @hotgreenteea @bakujirou4562 @big-chungas @3-am-depression @yul2020 @asahisimpnation @f0leysgurl @yammmers @kloudyisdepressed

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dancingamongstdust · 3 years

Text

MHA Scenarios - First Meeting (Part 3)

All Might

There was an ache in your shoulder despite the painkillers. It was persistent, a constant reminder that your time in U.A. was beginning to lower your reaction speed. Perhaps you should consider returning to a full-time career in the hero world instead of taking random jobs here and there.

Sighing, you finished up with your costume and opened the door to find none other than Principle Nezu waiting for you.

“Great timing!” he chirped. “I was about to come and tell you that you’ll be sharing your second-year physical training class today.”

“The class that begins in twenty minutes?”

“That very one. When I found out that you had injured yourself, I thought that it would be best for you to take on an assistant of sort.” Nezu hummed softly to himself, as if wondering if he should continue. “And perhaps it will be a good experience for Toshinori to see how one can balance their time.”

You chuckled, catching onto the principle’s plan. “I don’t think a hero of All Might’s stature would have anything to learn from somebody like me.”

“There’s no doubt that he’s the better hero –“

“You could put that more nicely.”

“But you have far more experience teaching,” Nezu finished. “You take it easy to ensure your continued health and even though you whine about your lack of excitement, you never go out and chase it.”

That was true. Every year, you told the principle that you would be quitting and each time, he would laugh and tell you that you never would. You blamed the students. They were way too easy to get attached to.

All Might was waiting at the training grounds, his hands on his hips and a smile on his face. The latter looked almost painted on. He absolutely towered over you, seemingly taller in person.

“We haven’t met properly before,” you said, giving your name. “But may I just say that I have endless respect for your heroic accomplishments.”

He laughed proudly. “Thank you. Nezu says that you got injured during a fight with a villain, is everything alright?”

There was something about his voice that you didn’t quite like. It just sounded so patently fake. Perhaps that was why you hadn’t been surprised when the news about his true form was shared amongst the faculty. It seemed to you that it should have been a given. Nobody spoke like he did in their day to day lives.

“It’s a shoulder injury,” you said. “In a similar line, you can drop the All Might moniker for a short while if you want. This class is incapable of arriving less than ten minutes late.”

“That’s alright! I’m sure this is a far more useful form.”

“Suit yourself,” you said with a nod. You rolled your shoulder and winced. “I’m going to need to have you taking over the majority of the hands-on training if that’s alright with you? If I push myself now, I’m just going to do more damage to the muscles.”

All Might gave an affirmative and then pondered your words. It was unsurprising when he seemingly vanished into a cloud of smoke, dropping the vast majority of his muscles and showing a far-more human façade.

“Perhaps you’re right,” he acknowledged. “Some rest before teaching would be easier on my injuries.”

You smiled. “The last thing you want to do is let these students think they’re strong enough to take you on just yet. Don’t need that going to their heads.”

Endeavor

It was an accident that led to your first encounter with the recently elected number one hero. And it had mostly been as a result of a very long day filled with endless bad luck.

You had been walking through the parking garage after having coffee spilled on you, losing your keys, and nearly breaking your ankle when an escalator stopped working. It was overall an awful day. And it was about to get even worse.

It must have been as a result of some kind of villain but the exact situation escaped you. All that you knew was that somebody got thrown from out of nowhere. They flew into one of the pillars and cracked it. You jumped and immediately rushed over to them. It was only once you were right beside him that you realised the fire was part of him.

“You’re Endeavor…” you breathed. “Are you alright?”

The hero stood, clearly shaken. A deep scowl covered his face. He was much, much taller than you had thought he would ever be. “Get out of here before you get hurt.”

Before either of you could do anything else though, the ground seemed to tremble, much like an earthquake. You looked up wearily. This was the ground floor so it wasn’t like you could fall through anywhere.

And then the ceiling started to crumble.

You barely had time to react, just screwing your eyes shut and hoping for the best. A wave of heat washed over you. Dust filled your lungs and you coughed as all around you, a cacophony of collapsing rubble filled the air.

An unnatural silence took over.

Slowly, you opened your eyes. It was far too dark with a flickering light illuminating a large cavern of rubble held up by a few of the pillars that were still standing. Powder swirled around you, filling your lungs and making you cough heavily. Then you noticed the reason that you hadn’t gotten so much as a scratch.

Endeavor stood over you, shielding you entirely. He showed no visible discomfort but as you stared, you realised that part of his suit had been ripped and blood trickled down his side.

A few seconds passed and he moved away. In the tight space, he was unable to even stand straight. “Damn it,” he cursed. “There’s no way that Hawks can move any of this nonsense. We’re going to be stuck here until rescue teams arrive.”

You sunk down slowly, sitting against something sharp and putting your hand over your mouth. “I’m going to die,” you whispered. “There’s no air here…”

“Don’t be dramatic,” the pro-hero snapped. “We have plenty of time before the air runs out. If it was just me, I could blast through here in no time.”

“Why can’t you?”

He stared at you as though you were stupid. “Either I would risk bringing the rest of this concrete down on your head or you would stand too close and get burnt. Somehow, I don’t think you would prefer either of those options.”

You shook your head and tried to hold back tears. This day had been worse than any other in your life. Should you call your family and friends? Was it worth worrying them just to hear their voices? Endeavor didn’t seem worried so maybe you should just trust that you would get out and everything would be fine. Or maybe you would die and –

Your thoughts were cut off by him suddenly appearing in front of you. “Relax,” he said. “If you panic, you’re just going to make the entire situation worse.”

“We’re trapped under concrete,” you said. “We could die.”

“You’re not going to die. Now stop being pathetic and find a way to occupy yourself that doesn’t cause a panic attack.”

You swallowed and took a deep breath. “Alright. Alright.”

He nodded, moving considerably further away and then his flames flickered off. And that was your first meeting with Endeavor. Surprisingly, you ended up speaking until you were rescued.

Eraserhead

It had all begun years ago.

You remembered distinctly how you had been sitting in the garden and watching the bees happily buzz past. It was a warm day with a slight saltiness to the air. A perfect time to enjoy the summer as though you had no worries in the world.

Conversation filled the air and you perked up, recognising one of the voices. You had only managed to stand up when a blur of blue hair slammed into your side, pulling you into a tight hug with a happy shout of your name. Laughter filled the air as you nearly fell, unable to even hug back.

“Oboro!” you giggled. “I thought you were only getting back next week!”

He finally let you go and shot you a smile that made the sun look dim. “I was but then my parents said my friends could stay over! Come meet them.”

Oboro had been your closest friend for years but since going to U.A., you had seen less and less of him. That wasn’t to say that you hadn’t kept in contact of course but you missed him greatly.

His friends were… not what you expected.

The exceptionally loud blond was Hizashi Yamada and his quirk was volume-based. He greeted you with a booming shout, apparently having been told about you several times before arriving.

But Shota Aizawa interested you far more. He didn’t speak much and you never did find out his quirk when you were younger. When you’d asked why he wanted to be a hero, he just told you that he liked it. The rest of the week, you developed a bit of a crush on him and spent most of your time trying to impress him.

When the week ended, you didn’t see him again for a very long time and the next time you saw him, it was under circumstances you had never even imagined.

You were wearing a veil to hide your face. There was no dramatic rain or dark thunder on the day of the funeral. Rather fittingly, there wasn’t a cloud in the sky. You liked to imagine that was Oboro’s final gift. A beautiful day to celebrate him.

Yamada had put his hand on your shoulder, subdued and quiet for the first time. He was a pro-hero now and you often saw his face on magazines.

Soon, he left to speak to others and you remained by the grave with only one other.

“Being a hero is more dangerous than I ever thought,” you said, not sure why you were speaking but feeling the urge to regardless. “You and Yamada have to stay as safe as you can, alright? He would want that.”

Aizawa glared at you from the corner of his eye. “How would you know that?”

“Because you were the most important people in the world to him,” you said. “Of course that’s what he would want.”

Aizawa didn’t speak anymore but after a while, he turned to leave. Before going, he paused and looked as though he wanted to say or do something. You met his gaze. It felt as though he could see straight through your veil, revealing the tears that streaked your face. The atmosphere wasn’t uncomfortable. It was just sad.

Still, standing there and just existing helped you to remember the loss wasn’t just your own. When Aizawa left, you turned back to Oboro’s gravestone feeling less alone in the world.

You were going to miss him like hell but you wouldn’t be remembering him by yourself.

Fatgum

As a solitary and underground hero, it was quite rare that you were contacted for big jobs. Rarer still that you took them instead of passing them on.

But something was different about this time.

This time, you had a personal vendetta drawing you to one of your least-favourite jobs – working with other heroes. It wasn’t that you didn’t get along with them but many weren’t in it for actually helping people. That put a bad taste in your mouth.

The job wasn’t technically being led by you purely because the information had come through a larger agency. They hadn’t wanted to pass it off to you alone so now you were sitting in the briefing room, listening to them going over everything that your investigations had revealed. No credit given, of course.

You stood toward the end and offered a simple warning. The villain that you were after had little concern about causing collateral. If anything, he relished in it. Your warning was primarily targeted at some of the heroes whom you knew dealt more with casual villains.

Many of them got overwhelmed when they came up against drug dealers and sex traffickers instead of pickpockets.

And then everybody dispersed, each having their own orders about how they would contribute to a safe arrest.

Leaving you alone. At least, you thought you were alone until somebody spoke behind you.

“Do you know what always calms me down? Taiyaki.”

You startled, though you didn’t let it become noticeable. Instead you turned to find yourself absolutely dwarfed by the BMI hero, Fatgum. Somebody you had always known about but never gotten a chance to meet.

“Do I really look that stressed?” you enquired.

He chuckled. “Not to be rude, but you definitely do.”

You sighed and looked at the documents in your hands. It was probably best that you didn’t have a mirror on you. “I’m worried about this case,” you said. “This guy has slipped through my hands a few too many times.”

Fatgum nodded. “I know how that feels but don’t worry too much. Everybody here is a capable hero and together, we’ll get him for sure.”

You raised an eyebrow. Perhaps a few were capable but not everybody.

“You’re too cynical,” he reprimanded though there was little malice to his words. “You should try to trust the rest of us. At least for long enough to get a little sleep.”

You reached up and touched the bags that had formed under your eyes. “Thank you for your concern but I’ll be perfectly fine.” You shoved the documents into a small bag and slung it over your shoulder. Once you dropped them off at home, you could head back out and see if anything had popped up.

“It’s still pretty early,” Fatgum mused. “What are your plans?”

“I’m going to go and see if any of my sources have found new information.”

“Uwabami was meant to be doing that tonight accourding to the schedule,” he pointed out. “But you’re probably not going to be taking the night off. Why don’t you join me for my patrol? You can keep an ear to the ground and also not continue exhausting yourself.”

Sighing, you glanced over your shoulder at him. “We hardly know each other. Why are you so worried about me?”

He shrugged. “Too many heroes drive themselves crazy with this kind of stuff. Come on. My work study students are great, you’ll love them both.”

There was a reason that you didn’t take any of those on but admittedly his two students were entertaining.

Gang Orca

It was all for the sake of the cameras.

You had to remember that when you were getting up before the sun rose. Everything had to be absolutely perfect about your appearance. If it wasn’t then your little ruse would be seen through by every reporter with half a braincell.

Then you had to get to the setup site and speak with the marketing team secretly. You stood with the team leader to one side, discussing everything like old friends over a cup of coffee.

“Essentially, what we’re looking for is a very breathless and awe-struck victim,” he explained to you. “When you speak to the media, try and make it like you never even thought of Gang Orca much before but now his rescue has made him into your favourite. We’re trying to build a greater trust with the public especially amongst children.”

You pulled a face. “I don’t much like working with kids but for a small increase, I can become quite the lover of them for a short while.”

The guy smiled. “You’re one of the best, otherwise I wouldn’t have hired you. You can get your increase.”

“Thank you. Now let’s get to work.”

You made your way to the ‘accident’ site. The costume team ripped your shirt and you had some fake blood dotted around your head. Nothing to make your injuries too severe but enough for some pity.

And then you climbed under the wreck and waited.

Approved photographers snapped their pictures as you were rescued from your metal prison by the tall Gang Orca. His strength alone was enough to pull the door free. He held his hand out to you while using his other to lift the car high enough to help you out. You made a show of crawling free and then stumbling a little.

With one hand on your head, you leaned against him and stared up with a grateful expression. Cameras flashed and he checked the wreck once more before leading you away for ‘medical treatment’.

Once out of view of the media circus, you straightened and wiped some of the fake blood away from your mouth. “Thank you for the rescue,” you said.

Gang Orca didn’t seem very happy about it at all. It was good that his hero image didn’t need too many smiles.

“I’m going to guess that this wasn’t really your idea?”

He sighed. “No. I don’t like the need to fake rescues when there are real people who should be getting help from a hero.”

“But those people aren’t getting paid to better the public’s opinion of you,” you said. “Twenty minutes here can be what knocks you off lists like ‘scariest heroes’ and similar stuff. That way, you get even more opportunities to save people.”

You couldn’t tell if he was grimacing or not but he definitely appeared to be. It made sense. While some heroes relished in the easier work, many didn’t like the media part of their jobs.

“If you’re happy with it, I’d like your autograph,” you said. “It’ll help me sell the whole situation a lot easier.”

“Alright.”

“For what it’s worth, I don’t have a warm opinion of the media either,” you said. “They’re vultures who benefit from the fall of good heroes. What I, and others, do helps stop the best from being sidelined just because they’re intimidating or unmarketable. You’re in this for the right reason but the news organisations don’t care about that.”

He sighed deeply. “It’s unfortunate that you’re right. Of course, that doesn’t mean I have to be happy with these kinds of arrangements.”

“Few people are.”

Hawks

Being a photographer was competitive work, especially in a world where people could have quirks allowing them to grow cameras from their bodies.

You had to go the extra mile in order to compete with them and carve out a name for yourself. Either you had to be there first or you had to see something that nobody else did. A good intuition never led you astray.

And so, when you found yourself walking down the right street late one afternoon, you just knew that it was time to take out your camera.

The event was nothing catastrophic. Indeed, it seemed that the main danger was people’s stupidity. A fire had started on the bottom floor of an office building and instead of waiting for first responders to do their jobs, people were choosing to make things more difficult by climbing out of windows and stuff like that.

Soon enough, heroes were on the scene and you had your camera ready.

Naturally, Backdraft was the first to arrive and you got some great photos of the rescue hero doing what he did best. The light from the flames perfectly illuminated the hero and made the entire situation feel a great deal more dramatic than it was.

The second hero was a young woman whose name escaped your mind. She assisted the civilians as best she could but, no sooner did she help one down, and the person was practically taken from her arms.

Bright red feathers flew across the scene, darting into the building and pulling every person free by their clothing. They were lowered safely to the ground though many stumbled.

You didn’t lower your camera but you cursed out Hawks under your breath.

Never, in your wildest imagination, did you expect to hear him respond.

“Well, that’s not a very nice thing to say.”

You startled, just about dropping your camera on the ground in shock. He was perched above your head, atop one of the streetlights, a smirk on his face and his visor down. His wings were shorter than usual and the only way you could tell he was even helping with the incident.

“You ruined my photo,” you said. “And she had him, you know?”

“She was moving too slow. The poor guy would have been stuck in the air for several minutes longer and that’s just not good on the heart. Besides, I can make up for your lost photo if you snap a shot in the next three seconds.”

You scoffed. “A photo of you sitting on a streetlight? From this angle?”

“What? Not dramatic enough for you?”

“Not unique enough, more like. You’re the most photographed hero in the whole of Japan. The internet is teeming with images of you from every possible angle, distance, and situation. I’ve seen them all.”

For some reason, that seemed to get to the pro-hero a little and you were surprised when he landed beside you. You were very rarely this close to a pro, your bravado disappearing now that he was actually standing there.

“So you’re saying I’m not worth a photo?”

Part of you felt like saying that he was and quickly taking one but your pride didn’t allow it. “Not when there are lesser-known heroes here. They don’t have crazy stalkers willing to chase them around the city for any picture.”

“And aren’t they luckier for it,” he sighed. “Ah well, your loss. I’ll see you around.”

With a flap of his wings, he was gone and you watched him go, fighting the urge to snap a photo the entire time.

Midnight

Some would call you shallow but interviews were one of your favourite parts of being a hero. Getting to answer questions and engage with the people who admired you was an experience that you just adored. Not only that but they were often the best place to clear up rumours or speculations so long as they were edited well.

With a reliable broadcaster and positive outcomes on all of your latest jobs, you were extremely excited to be offered an interview. You knew there was an ulterior motive of some kind but you hadn’t been sure as to what.

But still, you arrived early, dressed in your hero costume, and had your makeup done up as best as it could be.

And then you watched the interview before you and you quickly realised that the broadcast was doing a segment. One focused on hero costumes.

Your own was quite unique, a step away from the usual appearance of heroes. Personally, you loved it.

The public however was divided on whether it was fashion forward or just a flop.

And clearly that was why individual heroes had been chosen.

Being interviewed at the moment and practically being drilled on the ins-and-outs of her costume was nobody other than Midnight herself. She looked absolutely amazing as ever. A natural on the stage and in the field.

You had to admit however that you didn’t feel comfortable with the questions they were asking her. She answered smoothly but mostly in deflection.

The other heroes around you agreed with your assessment. This felt like an attempt at creating a media circus. Few were interested in participating anymore.

The moment Midnight gave her leave, the producers began gesturing at you. You gave them a look and turned around with the rest of the heroes there.

Midnight was in a bad mood but she put on a smirk when you made eye contact with her.

“We’re leaving,” you told her. “None of us were told that this was going to be working off controversy.” You wanted to apologise that she had been the first to get interrogated but you didn’t know how to do that.

She laughed. “You weren’t expecting there to be a catch?”

“I mean, I was but I thought they were a little better than running a segment that’s so clearly focused on… well…”

“Sex appeal?” Midnight asked.

You awkwardly rubbed the back of your neck. “Yeah. It probably should have tipped us off that we were all around the same status. No real big names aside from your own have worked with this broadcast channel.”

“And nobody will again once I speak to a few contacts,” Midnight said, a hint of bitterness finally seeping into her voice. “Guess that will teach me to give new places a chance. They’re all looking for the big ratings instead of actual interest. Maybe I should just go into being a teacher full time at this rate.”

“Aren’t you already doing that?”

She shushed you. “Not if I don’t say it out loud.”

You laughed and stuck by her as your group exited the building, ignoring the clamoring from the higher-ups who were desperately trying to convince you to stay. The type of people who would take advantage of being able to pressure people into things. Lovely.

“Don’t you hate how rude they are to you?” you asked her. “I get so furious sometimes and my questions are always tame compared to yours.”

She shrugged. “At some point, you get used to it. I don’t think there’s a question out there that would shock me anymore.”

You really hoped you never reached that point.

Mirko

The villain pulled experimentally at his cuffs. He twisted around and began shuffling when he met your eyes.

“Where exactly are you trying to go?”

He grumbled something under his breath and stopped moving. You raised a hand to your head and sighed. At this rate, you were going to wind up with wrinkles. One of your favourite outfits had been destroyed by this little altercation and nobody had even bothered to show up yet. Somebody had called emergency services, right?

“Stop moving, I can hear you,” you snapped.

The villain would have been a greater threat if you hadn’t happened to be shopping in the area. Your quirk was the perfect match for his own and it allowed you to quickly take control of an otherwise dangerous situation.

Now you sat on a bench, him tied to the nearest building support bench, and you waited for somebody to arrive and take him off your hands.

There was a thump somewhere to your right and you lazily looked up from your phone. Only for your heart to kind of stutter.

“Aw, come on! I was told there was going to be some excitement over here!” Mirko complained. “What gives?!”

The rabbit hero was absolutely gorgeous with white hair and legs that went on for literal days. She was the epitome of everything you aspired to be as a hero. What she did was on her own terms and she fought for the thrill of it all.

You had just never expected to actually meet her.

“I’ve dealt with it,” you said once you had gotten over your shock. You gestured towards the villain. “No problems here.”

Mirko bounded over and stuck her face way too close to his. Her nose seemed to twitch in excitement. “You don’t seem so tough,” she scoffed. “I got the call and it said that this was setting itself up to be a good clash! Are you just that good?”

Her eyes fell on you, bright and teasing. A strand of hair fell in front of her face and she huffed it away without breaking eye contact.

“I am,” you said, mostly joking but feeling unable to deny it.

She threw her head back and laughed. “That’s a good answer. I like your confidence.” She eyed what you were wearing. “Your costume could use some work though.”

You chuckled. “It’s actually pretty similar to yours when I’m not interrupted while shopping. I’ve always loved your style.”

She nodded firmly as though that was a given. Then she looked around and raised an eyebrow. “If this moron interrupted your shopping, then what are you doing hanging around with him? You have things to get back to, don’t you?”

You gestured around. “I do but the police haven’t shown up yet.”

“Don’t worry about them,” she scoffed. “I’ll bounce this guy down to the station for you. Don’t waste time just standing around.”

She turned back to the villain just in time for you to both see him run around the corner. He nearly tripped but managed to keep his footing. You glanced at one another and Mirko laughed heartily. “You stay here,” she said. “I can deal with cowards in well under a minute. They always do the same things to ‘throw me off’ or whatever.”

“I’ll come with you,” you said. “It’s technically my fault he got away. And I could always learn a thing or two from the best, right?”

She grinned. “I knew I liked you. Let’s see if you can keep up though.”

Natsuo

On a good summer’s day, there was nothing better than the beach. The waves gently lapping at the shore, soft clouds drifting across the sky, and few children due to the earliness of the day. It was well worth getting up early to watch the sun creep its way over the ocean and begin what was scheduled to be the hottest day of the year.

Not that you would be outside when it hit noon. By that time, ice cream and a nice spot of shade became necessary.

For now though, you waltzed along the beach and enjoyed the sand beneath your feet. As you walked, you kept an eye out for shells though there were scarce. People came every day to collect this time of year.

In a way, that made you sad.

But the lack of shells did mean that you didn’t need to watch where you were walking quite as much. At least, that was your thought process. Shells cut your feet and there were none so why keep an eye on the sand.

The answer is broken bottles.

It was a sake bottle, probably stolen away by some kids to be drunk where their parents wouldn’t see. The searing pain made you think you’d stepped on a jellyfish. Cursing, you jerked your foot away, blood running down into the sand below.

A small wave washed up, taking the bloodied sand away to reveal the culprit.

Struggling to balance, you hopped away from the bottle and sat down, lifting your foot to see the damage. It was a rather deep slice that made you feel quite woozy. Sand was already sitting around the injury and your only option to wash it off was the very salty sea.

“Sorry, do you need some help?”

You glanced behind you to see a guy standing on the boardwalk. His hair was pale and his expression kind. Something about him seemed oddly familiar but you weren’t sure why.

“I stood on a bottle,” you said. “It’s alright.”

He rubbed the back of his neck. “Do you need some help getting off the sand?”

You were going to deny the offer but your entire leg felt like it was on fire. The pain was undoubtedly because of your brain flicking through reminders about the danger of stepping on glass. “If you’re alright with it.”

He made his way down to where you were sitting quite quickly and glanced at your foot. “That’s going to need stitches,” he said. He offered his water bottle to you. “You should clean it off and then put some pressure on it before we move it.”

The cut hadn’t seemed that bad to you but you hadn’t really been looking carefully. “Are you sure?” You still took the water though, hissing as you poured it over your cut.

“Very,” he said. “Do you mind your towel getting blood on it?”

“No.”

He used the towel to put pressure on the cut and then helped you stand, hobbling your way off the beach. Once there, he quickly listed off the nearest hospitals.

“Are you a medical student by any chance?” you asked, trying to keep your mind off the pain.

He blushed. “Sorry, is it obvious?”

You laughed. “Just a little but that’s okay. It was good that you happened to be nearby then. Can I get your name?”

He hesitated but then said, “Natsuo. Don’t worry about my family name.”

Curious now, especially given how familiar he looked, you were tempted to push. But you didn’t and instead thanked him again for his help. He turned out to be correct, of course. You did need stitches.

Present Mic

You stretched before going into the office. Everything was sore – an unfortunate result of your late night. It couldn’t have been helped. Train wrecks were rarely planned.

Principle Nezu greeted you warmly when you arrived and then asked you to sit down. “As I’m sure you’ve heard, there was a recent incident on the grounds. Thirteen was badly injured and we’re in need of a new teacher with expertise in natural disaster management.” He smiled at you. “I thought you would be the perfect match.”

You raised an eyebrow. “I was under the impression you were going to try convince me to take a work study student.”

“I’m sure you will one year,” he joked.

“Unlikely but you can always offer.” You sighed and turned your gaze out the window. “I have little care for children. This will be a temporary position, yes?”

“We’ll see how it goes.”

You gave him a look but the principle just sipped at his tea. He already knew that you were going to accept – if only because you had always been a close friend of Thirteen’s. Taking over one class wasn’t going to kill you.

“I don’t have any experience in this,” you reasoned. “Other schools must have teachers who can come and cover classes?”

“None who are as experienced in the field as you are. So I’ve organised with Hizashi Yamada to take you through his methods of teaching and you can convert them over. He’ll be here soon.”

You sunk further into your chair, rubbing the bridge of your nose. “What would you have done if I said no?”

“Been very disappointed, of course.”

Present Mic was a hero you had always admired but you hadn’t ever expected him to be as loud in person as he was in the media. You just about jumped out of your skin when he entered the room dramatically, calling out a greeting.

Nezu gave the introductions and informed you that before doing an actual class, you had a week of acting as an assistant instructor alongside Present Mic.

“Should I invest in earbuds?” you joked.

He laughed but then actually lowered his voice as though you had reminded him. “Don’t worry. If I yell too much in class, Shota tends to come and glare through the doorway until I quieten down.”

You chuckled. “Do you have similar teaching schedules?’

“No but he claims that he can hear me from anywhere in the school. It’s the best way to find him actually. You just yell until he shows up.”

“I’ll take that as lesson number one in how to teach at U.A.”

“Lesson number one is to not take Nemuri’s flirting seriously,” he corrected. “I know it’s very flattering to think that she’s interested but she’s not. If it makes you uncomfortable, you can tell her to stop but she doesn’t always listen. It’s part of her image, you know?”

You raised an eyebrow at Nezu but he just shrugged. That didn’t seem like it was too professional but alright.

You took a deep breath and tried to pretend that this was just going to be temporary. It wasn’t like Nezu had been trying for years to get you involved at the school.

Temporary.

“Which subject do you teach?” you asked as you followed Present Mic from the office.

“English. No crazy action or anything which means you have to work double time to keep the students interested. You’ll have it far easier.”

Nobody really prepared you for the fact that Class 1A didn’t know how to do things the easy way.

#mha #bnha scenarios #bnha x reader #all might x reader #endeavor x reader #aizawa x reader #midnight x reader #mirko x reader #natsuo todoroki x reader #present mic x reader #fatgum x reader #gang orca x reader #hawks x reader

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ihavenocluedude · 2 years

Text

Baby, this love I have (1/3)

Benji Dunn x Female!reader

Fake dating trope ;)

Link to reading it on Ao3 Link to my masterlist

Link to mini-series masterlist

Summary - A three-part story with the fake-dating trope. Which is like one of my favourite tropes of all time :). Almost midway through the second part, I had listened a lot to the song ’Baby, this love I have’ by Minnie Riperton and I’d been trying to write a fic inspired by the song and then I realised I think it fits the sort of vibe I want for this, at least in the third part especially? It’s not like really said when this fic plays out but it’s at least quite some time after rogue nation?? Because I reference an event in that one. I tried to make it sort of vague and nice bc MI is complicated imo dudes.

Warnings - none really for this chapter but the third part might be 18+

Song to listen to with this mini fic series if you want - Baby, this love I have by Minnie Riperton

Word count for this part - 1 643

It hadn’t been something you'd immediately answered yes to… but you weren’t all that inconvenienced by the situation either. Feeling Benji’s arm around your waist as if it was the most normal thing in the world and laughing your heart out with Ethan and Luther. Benji had been a field agent for years now. The start of his career as a field agent marking the separation that was made between the two of you.

You hadn’t spent this much time with him since then. Even if the two of you had been very close when he was still in tech. When you could just lean back in your computer chair to see what he was working on, or rather not working on most of the time.

You’d spent nearly every day back then talking to him. Getting to know him. Getting used to him. Becoming close friends and learning everything about each other. And then it all got ripped away because of his quite sudden short assistance to Ethan Hunt.

You know the team he works with nowadays. You didn’t know them that well. But due to them being quite a bit under the spotlight a lot of people know who they are without truly knowing them… and you had also been introduced twice before. The first time being at some stuffy bar when you had had time to meet them once at the beginning of Benji’s friendship with Ethan Hunt. Just after the incident that could’ve made Benji lose his job but instead led him to the path of him starting to work for the process of being ’promoted’ to a field agent.

Sure that did take a while in between those two stages. But between those two stages, he was working on that path. You saw him work himself to the bone to get a job that could lead to him dying. So whilst you did have those years of him next to you between the moment of him helping Ethan through a phone and getting out of the dungeon. It never felt like enough and it just reminded you constantly of what he was working towards.

After he became a field agent he did try to send you messages when he could. Tried to check in ’as much as possible’. But when you were several countries apart pretty often and he was consistently putting his life at risk… there wasn’t that much to be done with that. You missed him, of course, you did. But to be close friends with a field agent? That is putting one’s heart on the line.

So you took a bit of distance. And you figured that he wouldn’t be that bothered by it, he had his field career now after all. He had his badass friends and cool adventures whilst you were still in a dark tech room. Tech devices surrounding your desk, your computer screens and its keyboard taking up the remainder of the small space available and one of the most annoying tech guys in the world at your side instead of Benji.

Ignoring Benji’s calls somehow became second nature after a while, unfortunately. Sometimes he called just to check in, sometimes he ’needed you’ to help him whilst on a mission. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to be the ’big hero’ who saved the Ethan Hunt’s team whilst in a pickle and it wasn’t that you didn’t want to speak to Benji… It was simply… avoidance of it all.

Every time he called it reminded you that he could be in lethal danger, that he could be calling you with his last words to you. Not necessarily his last phone call or his last words, just his last phone call and last words to you.

You had freaked out when you heard about him getting bombs strapped to his chest by The Syndicate. You hadn’t even heard it from him, but rather from coworkers that were reacting to the news themselves. Which you were thankful for.

If it had been Benji himself telling you, you’re pretty sure you would’ve broken down immediately. Instead, you had the time to get to a bathroom to calm yourself down enough to be able to go home before you broke down. This sort of situation was exactly why you took your distance and still, it didn’t work enough.

The tech dungeon wasn’t necessary for your work you could probably get some sort of big view or a bigger desk. But it was nice to simply sit in front of a computer, the darkness around you not letting you know how time flashed by.

Being able to help the intelligence part of the agency along without gazing out the window, without your work being distracted by more thoughts than necessary. All of that would simply be distractions, things that would get in the way of your success. This way you were focused, no distractions, except for the rare distraction that the agency themselves gave to you instead of the pretty standardized work that shouldn’t be all that standardized.

The biggest disturbance that you’d ever gotten, however, was when something truly unusual happened. Benji Dunn had entered your tech dungeon and was walking directly over to you. He looked slightly different, more confident as he almost looked like he strutted over to you. He still had that awkward cuteness about him, it was just more implied than shown now. It was crazy what a couple of years could truly do sometimes.

”Benji?” Your voice came out more shocked than intended, your eyes widened and your chair instantly pushed away from your desk a bit to fully take in the unusual sight.

”I need a small favour.” Benji seemed to almost lightly cringe at his words.

”A small favour?” And now that came out more mean than you wanted your voice to say it. He had checked in a couple of times… he didn’t put up the distance between the two of you… you did. So if he comes to you for a favour… it was probably quite big? Not something he wanted you to be able to ignore. ”Sorry.” It came out in a sort of whisper, small and afraid that he’d think you hated him or something.

”Can we talk in private?” He asked, impatiently… so it could be a mission? But would Benji Dunn really come all this way to just ask you for help on a mission? No probably not. You nodded, agreeing to see the man you had ignored for some time even more up close, even more alone together than you would be in the small ’tech dungeon’ of safety.

You walked him into one of the files rooms, where printed versions of documents still resided even with big digitalization of almost everything.

”Long time since I’ve been here.” He chuckled looking around at the beige walls and the generally cramped area. Obviously not wanting to approach the subject directly but rather observe things he’d never bring up in a thousand years otherwise.

”Benji.” You said with a clear tone that made it known that you just wanted to know what the hell he was there for.

”I need you to pretend to be my girlfriend.” His voice was way calmer than you would ever guess he could sound while saying a sentence like that.

Although the next things he said betrayed his slightly more awkward and embarrassed tone that you’d expected from him, ”I told the team I was sort of seeing someone, to get them off my back. For some reason they still sometimes expect a field agent to have relationships even with our… dangers.” The words took forever to truly sink in. Your eyes widened even more than when you just simply saw him. Your brain failing to take all of this in.

Benji had never really talked to you about his love life. Thankfully. You knew he had dated a couple of girls during his ’only-tech’ years, it had been quite obvious… and it made you frown almost every time you saw him smile at his phone and send texts with pet names to people on his phone. But that was simply the way it was back then, you were just friends. And then you weren’t even that anymore.

”What?” You questioned, your shock evident in your voice. Field agents weren’t exactly discouraged from dating people, but it wasn’t encouraged either. And a lot of people followed that path, not really dating anyone seriously. Often flings, one night stands. Not getting married like one certain agent did.

”I need you to pretend to be my girlfriend.”

”I… Uhm… I don’t know.”

”You do still owe me from that lunch you know.” He friendly joked, a small smile on his face as he brought forward the last time the two of you had seen each other. It had been so long ago. It was after the bomb incident. You had needed your space, you knew that, but you also couldn’t go along with keeping space from him without seeing him one last time. He had paid, he had offered at the time and with him having the technically bigger and better paying job, you accepted. There was never really a mention of you paying him back but you had still felt slightly guilty about it.

You sighed and looked into his eyes. His lips instantly formed into a small smile that clearly was meant to look pleading. It was still the same Benji. All you had to do was embrace and show your old feelings and that would be it. You just had to live out your old daydreams of dating the man in front of you. The feelings and thoughts that still lingered on your brain even after this long from not seeing him.

”Fine.”

A/N - I desperately wanted to post something today and I’m like not completely done with the third and final chapter (bc it’s gonna be the longest of the three and I want to write it nicely) but the second chapter is done already and should be posted soon ish so they should all be posted within a quick time

#simon pegg x reader #simon pegg stuff #Benji dunn #Benji dunn x reader #Benji dunn x female!reader #benji dunn x you #mission impossible #mission impossible fanfiction #benji dunn fluff #mission impossible fic #mission impossible x reader #benji dunn fic #Simon pegg fic

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tricksters-captain · 3 years

Text

Bucky Barnes Imagines - Some Sunny Day Part 3

Summary: Before the Blip, you and Bucky were close. After you both returning and Tony’s funeral, you decided to go back to your home town to spend time with your family. When duty calls, you return.

In this chapter: After finding Sharon in Madripoor, you learn about the creator of the soldier serum (Based on S1 EP3)

(PART 1) (PART 2)

Pairing(s): Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader, Sam Wilson x Platonic!Reader

Word Count: 3,457

Warnings: Spoilers for episode 3, violence, strong language.

Once you arrived at Sharon’s you were itching to get out of the costume Zemo cooked up for you.

“Looks like breaking all those laws is treating you well.” Sam gawked at Sharon’s place which was full of art work and collectables.

“I thought if I had to hustle, might as well enjoy the life of a real hustler. You know how much I’ll get for a real Monet?” Sharon shrugged as she lead you through her gallery.

“Easy...Deactivate your hustle mode. You sell fake Monets.” Sam didn’t believe her as he stared at the artwork.

“No. She means real. This gallery is specialized in stolen artwork. Monet. Van Gogh. Classics.” Zemo defended Sharon as he followed her.

“It’s true. You know, half the artwork in museums like the Louvre is fake. Real stuff sits in places like this.” Bucky informed Sam.

“Okay, guys, I see what you’re doing. You’re more worldly than good old Sam.” Sam pulled out his phone and started searching a nearby paining.

“Yeah. What’s Google say?” Bucky teased him for it.

“No shit.” Sam muttered as the realisation hit him.

“You guys need to change. I’m hosting clients in an hour.” Sharon beckoned you along to which you were silently thankful for.

Sharon was kind enough to let you look through her vast collection of clothes until you picked out something you liked.

“Hey... You okay?” You asked softly.

You and Bucky were alone with your backs to each other as you changed in one of Sharon’s many rooms.

“I’m fine.” Bucky replied quietly.

You knew he wouldn’t be fine after having to act like the winter soldier again. You watched him at that bar. He didn’t hold back when he attacked those men.

“Buck, you know you can’t lie to me.” You tried to keep it light but Bucky wasn’t having it.

“I’m not.”

You didn’t push.

“Hey, will you zip me up?” You asked after stepping into your dress. You didn’t turn but you could hear Bucky’s footsteps as he approached you.

You felt the cold of his fingers brush against your back as he slowly zipped up the dress.

You turned when the zip reached the top.

“Thanks.” You whispered.

Bucky’s eyes were burning through you as he admired your choice of dress.

“You look beautiful.” Bucky murmured, his eyes taking in every detail.

“You scrub up quite nicely yourself.” You smiled as you admired Bucky in the suit Sharon had given him. You couldn’t deny the butterflies in your stomach as you thought about a possible normal circumstance Bucky could wear something like this. Like a date.

“Come on.” Bucky took your hand and lead you to the door that would take you back to the others.

“It’s alright. I’m gonna sort my hair out. Running through Low-town didn’t exactly do it any favours.” You retracted your hand and returned to the mirror. Bucky hesitated didn’t question you.

“What’s going on with you and Bucky?” Sharon’s voice filled the room as you heard the door open again. “Thought the two of you’d be together by now.”

“We’re coworkers. We’ve always been coworkers.” You were wary of Sharon’s new found attitude.

“Oh please. You two have wanted to jump each others bones the whole time I've known you.” Sharon rolled her eyes at you as she slump down on the love seat beside you.

You remained silent as you brushed through your hair.

“Oh come on.” Sharon rolled her eyes. “You two have never?”

“No.” You said almost too quickly.

“Well it’s only a matter of time. I don’t know why you are dragging it out so long.” Sharon sighed dramatically as she picked at the fabric on the settee.

“I don’t know why everyone is so invested in mine and Bucky’s relationship.” You spun around to face her. “You. Sam. Steve. You all poke and prod but you don’t take into consideration all the factors.”

“No you don’t take into consideration that there’s only so much time before one day you’re shot or killed or you have to go on the run and never see him again. You need to grow some balls, (y/n).” Sharon didn't bother sticking around after that.

You groaned and closed your eyes.

When you finally decided to rejoin the group, they were discussing Sharon’s status in Madripoor.

“What’s going on, Sharon? You don’t ever wanna come back home?” Sam asked as he put on a shirt.

“They’ll lock me up if I step foot back in the States. Madripoor doesn’t allow extradition.” Sharon replied pretty matter-of-factly as she walked over to her desk.

“Look, I’m sorry I didn’t call, but after the Blip and the chaos, I just––” Sharon cut Sam off before he could explain himself.

“––Look, you know the whole hero thing is a joke, right? The way you gave up that shield, deep down, you must know it’s all hypocrisy.

“He knows. And not so deep down.” Zemo felt the need to jump in.

“By the way, how is the new Cap?” Sharon asked.

“Don’t get me started.”Bucky grumbled.

“Please. You buy into all that stars and stripes bullshit. Before you were his pet psychopath, you were Mr. America! Cap’s best friend.” Sharon smirked as she sat down beside Bucky.

“Wow. She’s kind of awful now.” Bucky said as he looked over at you.

“Karli Morgenthau and at least seven others have taken the serum.” You took the initiative to change the topic back to the reason you were here in the first place.

“You guys really should steer clear of all of this for your own safety.”Sharon warned you as she shook her head.

“We know it’s a risk, but we won’t leave until we find the one who cracked the code.” Sam took the chair beside Sharon as he spoke.

“We got a name. Wilfred Nagel.” Bucky told her.

“Nagel works for the Power Broker.” Sharon informed you as she stood to pour herself a drink.

“We need your help, Sharon. I can get your name cleared.” Sam offered.

“You haggling with my life?” Sharon smirked again.

“Not like that.” Sam shook his head.

“I don’t buy that. You pretending like you can clear my name.” Sharon leant back against her bar.

“Okay, maybe it is hypocrisy. Maybe you’re right. What happened to you. But I’m willing to try if you are. They cleared the bionic staring machine, and he killed almost everybody he’s met.” Sam approached her with his good old puppy dog eyes.

“I heard that.” Bucky frowned, unimpressed by Sam’s use of example.

“I don’t trust charity.” Sharon sighed.

“All right, a deal then. You help us out, and I get your name cleared.” Sam offered his hand.

“Well, I sell to some pretty connected people. Lay low, blend in, enjoy the party. Try to stay outta trouble. I’ll see what I can find.” Sharon took the deal.

The party seemed to suddenly start.

Within minutes the whole place was jam packed. Music suffocated the space and the smell of sweat and alcohol was growing.

You stayed in between Sam and Bucky as you walked single file through the gathering. You reached back and linked fingers with Bucky’s to make sure you didn’t get parted in the crowd.

As the bar came into view, you felt a hand grab your ass.

“Hey!” Bucky took hold of the stranger and slammed him against the nearest wall. Holding him by the throat.

Sam was there to diffuse the situation in a second. He placed a. hand on Bucky’s shoulder to pull him away.

“Lay low remember.” Sam repeated what Sharon had told everyone over the blaring music.

Bucky released the creep and stepped back.

That gave you enough space to send your own punch. The man cried out, sliding down the wall and cradling his gushing nose.

“Looks like she does not need help.” Zemo chimed in.

You all left the guy without drawing too much attention to yourselves.

The music wasn’t exactly your taste and you knew that it definitely wasn’t Bucky's but that didn’t stop you from taking him away from Sam and Zemo.

“What are you doing?” Bucky asked you.

“Got a bit boring just standing there, no?” You smirked.

“You can’t expect me to dance to this, can you?” Bucky grimaced at the pulsing beat that classified as music.

“You can try.” You smirked as you brought yourself closer to the man.

You moved your body to the music, smiling widely him as he awkwardly tried to sway to it.

“I thought you were a good dancer?!” You teased Bucky as you watched him.

“I was!” Bucky defended himself. “When the music was Louis Armstrong and Glenn Miller!”

You couldn’t help but laugh at the man before wrapping your arm around his neck.

“You gotta move a bit more like this.” You tried to show him, taking his hand and placing it on your hip.

Bucky was starting to look a little less like a grandpa as he got into the groove of it.

His eyes were locked on you, a small smile on his lips. He looked undeniably handsome.

“I think you’re getting it.” You leant up by his ear to tell him.

“Well, we can’t look any worse than Zemo.” Bucky pointed through the crowd where Zemo was dancing.

You burst into laughter at the sight of the war criminal dancing and buried your face into Bucky’s neck. Bucky laughed next to your ear. It was a rare genuine sound that sent tingles through your head.

“Come on.. Let’s get some water.” You left the dance floor and rejoined Sam by the bar where he had started to speak to some other guests.

Sharon approached you a little while later with some good news and so you all immediately left the party.

“Madripoor could give New York a run for its money.” Sam stated as you arrived at the location of Nagel.

“They know how to party.” Zemo agreed.

You followed Sharon through the shipping container yard as she searched for the right one.

“With that bounty on your head, the longer you’re in Madripoor, the less likely you’re ever leaving.” Sharon stopped and pointed over to a red container. “All right. He’s in there. Container four-two-six-one. I’ll watch while you guys talk to Nagel. But hurry. We’re on borrowed time.”

“You want me to stick around out here with you in case you run into trouble?” You asked her as you all took an ear piece.

“I’ll be alright. I’ll call if I need any back up.” Sharon dismissed your offer before walking away.

You all entered the container cautiously before Sam contacted Sharon.

“Hey, Sharon. You sure this is the right one? It’s completely empty.” He was right. To the eye, it was empty.

“Positive. It has to be.” Sharon replied.

You shared a look between Sam and Bucky as Zemo felt around the. back of the container.

Suddenly, it shifted and a hidden door opened.

Soft music played from below along with a muffled voice.

It has to be Nagel.

Sam, Bucky and you all went in armed.

You silently negotiated between each other which urged Sam to go ahead and cut the music. Nagel spun around at the intrusion.

“Dr. Nagel?” Sam inquired.

“Who are you? What do you want?” The man wasn’t intimidating and didn't seem to have any weapons around him but you had learnt in the past not to underestimate your opponent.

“We know you created the super-soldier serum.” Sam informed him.

“Get out of my lab.” Nagel demanded pretty boldly considering Sam was the one with the gun.

“Hey! You know who he is, right?” Sam asked as he caught the shocked look on Nagel’s face at the sight of Bucky. This is Baron Zemo. I know you’ve heard of him, too, right? You seem like a pretty smart guy. So you better become conversational real quick.”

“How about a counter proposal? Make me a better offer and I’ll talk.”Nagel smirked.

“Guys, we have company.” Sharon’s voice whispered through the ear piece. “Every bounty hunter in the city is here. We gotta go.”

“I’ll go up.” You lowered your gun from Nagel and went to turn when Sam stopped you.

“No, we might need you.” Sam meant he might need your powers.

“But...” You gestured to your ear.

“She didn’t ask for back up.” Sam argued.

You sighed but listened to Sam.

Bucky moved Nagel over to a chair. He held his gun to the man’s temple.

“Here’s your counter offer.” Bucky shot next to Nagel’s head which worked wonders to make him talk.

“Okay. Okay. I was brought into HYDRA’s Winter Soldier program to pick up their work after the five failed test subjects in Siberia. When HYDRA fell, I was recruited by the CIA. They had blood samples from an American test subject with semi-stable traces of serum in his system. After much labor, I was able to isolate the necessary compounds in his blood. I was a god. I did what no other scientist since Erskine was able to do. But mine was going to be different. No clunky machines or jacked up bodies. Mine was going to be subtle, optimized, perfect.”

“How have we never heard about this?” You asked, your eyes flicking over at Sam.

“Because… Before I was able to complete my work, I turned to dust. Then when I returned, it was five years later, program had been abandoned, so I came here. The Power Broker was more than happy to fund the recreation of my work.” Nagel explained.

“How many vials did you make?” Sam asked.

“Twenty. Karli Morgenthau stole those, so I can only imagine what the Power Broker has planned for that poor girl.”

“Where’s Karli now?”You stepped forward, rolling up your sleeve as a warning.

“I don’t know where she is. But a couple of days ago, she called and asked if I could help someone named Donya Madani. Poor woman has tuberculosis. Typical of overpopulation in displacement camps like that.” You took a mental note of the name Nagel mentioned.

“Well, what happened to her?” You pushed

“Not my pig. Not my farm.” Nagel shrugged.

You looked back at Sam with a look asking if you should check if he's telling the truth but Sam shook his head.

“Is there any serum in this lab?” Bucky asked.

Nagel sent Bucky a deep glare but Bucky’s gun brought forth the answer.

“No.”

“Now what?” Bucky asked you and Sam.

“Guys, we’re seriously outta time here.” Sharon bursted in, looking a little battered.

All of a sudden, Zemo pulled a gun out and shot Nagel.

“No!” Sam cried out

You lunged forward and reached for the man’s arm. If you could catch his final moments of life leaving his body you could still get the memories but as you hand touched his skin all you saw was darkness.

You screamed as you went blind.

You felt a pair of hands pull you up from the ground to which you could only assume was Bucky.

“What did you do?!” Sharon gasped at Zemo’s action.

“I can’t see, Buck.” You felt your whole body go limp in his arms as you muttered those final words before you passed out.

When you felt your eyes open again, you were out of the container. Gun shots were muffled in your eyes as you heard Bucky and Sam arguing.

You were covered in dust and you didn’t have your gun.

“Where’s my gun?” You asked. That’s when the boys realised you were awake.

You only managed to crawl over to Bucky to take it from him and start to fire.

Your aim was off from how exhausted you were but the adrenaline was there enough for you to get a good few shots in.

“Are you okay?” Bucky asked you as the firing stopped. Zemo was busy taking out the remaining bodies so it gave you time to sit back again.

“Not really.” You shook your head. Your body felt cold and darkness still clouded the corners of your vision. It’s what happened when you tried to get the memories from a dead body, all you could see and feel is death. Your powers only worked on living people or people close to death.

“Come on.” Bucky lifted you up, tucking his arm underneath you to keep you steady on your feet.

You only lasted being half dragged/half running before Bucky picked you up. You hated being carried but this was a life or death situation.

“Buck!” Sam shouted as some more bounty hunters appeared. Bucky put you down and you fell against the container door as he used a broken off pipe to fight them off.

“Let’s go!” Sam tugged you both inside.

Bucky kicked open the back of the container so you could escape, only for you to be met by Zemo in a swanky getaway car.

“Supercharged.” Zemo gestured to his ride.

“You’re going back to jail.” Sam told Zemo.

“Do you want to find Karli or not?” Zemo asked.

“He’s right. We need him.” You tried to speak but your throat was hoarse.

“And there’s only three of us, and at least 20 of them.” Bucky added.

“Fine. But if you try that shit again...” Sam warned him.

“I wouldn’t dream of it.” Zemo stated. Not that he was to be trusted.

Sam helped you into the back seat. There was concern painted across his face.

“Well, that was one hell of a reunion.” Sharon sighed as she placed her hands on the car.

“Come back to the States with us.” Sam tried to persuade her.

“I can’t. Just get me that pardon you promised me.” Sharon reminded him of the deal they made.

“Thanks for everything.” Sam nodded. “You’re not gonna move your seat up, are you?”

“No.” Bucky shook his head.

You laughed weakly as you remembered the same conversation back when Steve was still around.

Back on Zemo’s plane, you took a position on the small couch with Bucky. You were resting your eyes but trying to stay awake as you listened to the boys talk.

“Donya Madani. She’s a refugee, yeah.” Sam had contacted Torres about the woman Nagel had mentioned. “Call me if you get a hit. --- Thanks, Torres.”

“You okay?” Bucky asked Sam as Sam slouched down.

“Yeah. Just thinking about all the shit Sharon had to go through. And Nagel referring to the American test subject like Isaiah wasn’t even a real person. Just makes me wonder how many people have to get steamrolled to make way for this hunk of metal.”

“Well, it depends on who you ask. That hunk of metal saved a lot of lives.” Bucky looked up from cleaning his hand.

“Yeah, I get that. All right. Maybe I made a mistake.” Sam confessed.

“You did.” Bucky agreed with that statement and so did you but you kept your eyes closed.

“Yeah. Maybe I shouldn’t have put it in a museum. Maybe I should have destroyed it.” Sam didn’t say what you expected.

“Look, that shield represents a lotta things to a lotta people, including me. The world is upside down, and we need a new Cap, and it ain’t gonna be Walker. So before you destroy it, I’ll take it from him myself.” Bucky turned to face Sam as he spoke. You felt the couch shift.

Sam then got a call with the information on Madani.

“They found Madani… Dead. She died in Riga, a city near the Baltic Sea.”

“I have a place we can go. I, for one, am looking forward to coming face to face with Karli. Oeznik, we’re changing the course.” Zemo’s voice was the last thing you remembered before waking up at landing.

“Hey sleepy head.” Bucky whispered quietly. He’d rather be caught dead than let Sam hear him say that.

“Have we landed?” You asked as you rubbed your eyes.

“Yeah.” Bucky nodded. “Come on.”

It didn’t take too long to get to Zemo’s place but when you did, Bucky decided to break away.

“I’m gonna go on a walk.” Bucky announced before you entered the building.

“You good?” Sam asked.

“Yeah.” Bucky nodded as he stepped away.

“Be careful.” You warned him.

You knew Bucky needed his space sometime but now wasn’t the best time for him to just be wandering the streets. Especially if Walker clocks on it was you three that broke Zemo out of prison.

“Always.” Bucky winked at you before finally leaving.

But that was a bad feeling in your gut.

(PART 4)

Bucky Barnes Tag List

@florencxs @mystictimetravelcolor @yourphotographyteen16@shannon-posts @darkbluenovember @sexwithhiddlesbatch@thefandomimagines @mydarkness-itsnotmyfriend @sad-huffle-nerd @glitchingghosts @themaddies-obx @avenging-parker @delilahsdaydream @felicityofbakerstreet @purplewcrld @opheliaaaa

#Bucky Barnes imagines #Bucky Barnes x reader #Bucky Barnes #falcon and the winter soldier #falcon and the winter soldier imagines #Sebastian Stan #Sebastian Stan x reader #Sebastian Stan imagines #the winter soldier #falcon #Sam Wilson #Zemo #imagines #series #some sunny day #part 3

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