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wanderinginksplot · 4 years ago

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Nobody Listens to Kix

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Case 00506: Jesse

"Well, at least it went straight through," Kix commented, examining the back of Jesse's blaster wound.

"It's a blaster bolt," Jesse groused, his voice tight with pain. "They all go straight through."

"Yes, but it didn't hit anything vital," Kix disagreed. "That's not something you can say about a lot of injuries affecting this part of the body. An inch in the wrong direction, and you would have been dead, helmet or no. You got lucky, Jesse."

Kix stood to retrieve an armful of items from the medical cabinet, but paused when he saw an expression that could only be described as pouting on Jesse's face. "Why are you making that face, trooper? Is there another injury I should know about?"

"No," Jesse said flatly, trying to turn away from Kix, but the motion only aggravated the neat wound in his trapezoid. He winced and went back to facing the same direction as he had been before.

Deciding to leave it alone for now, Kix gathered the few supplies he needed and came back to Jesse's bedside. "I'll need you to tilt your head in the other direction."

With a small, pain-filled noise, Jesse did as Kix had asked, stretching the wounded muscle connecting his neck with his shoulder. Kix set to work disinfecting the injury, a process that Jesse endured as stoically as he could manage.

While he worked, Kix puzzled over Jesse's odd reaction to his injury. Jesse had seemed pained, of course, but he had also been embarrassed. Hardly the reaction Kix would have expected from the trooper. Jesse wasn't overly cocky, but he certainly enjoyed being in the spotlight.

"What happened?" Kix asked bluntly, deciding that being direct was his best chance of getting the truth.

"I got shot," Jesse answered simply. Kix pressed a bit harder with a disinfecting wipe than was strictly necessary and Jesse let out a yelp and glared at him. The medic gave a small shrug as if to apologize and Jesse sighed. "I wasn't paying attention in the field and I didn't see a super battle droid approaching."

Kix huffed out a breath. That was a bad mistake to make. Super battle droids were far superior to basic battle droids, but they weren't exactly on commando droid level when it came to subtlety. "How far away was it?"

"A little more than a klick."

"I didn't know SBDs had sniper capabilities," Kix commented.

"They normally don't, but Fives found out that it had been augmented by the Seppies," Jesse said, voice bitter.

Ah, now things were starting to make sense. Since he had first become part of the 501st, Jesse had idolized the older Fives. "I had heard he and Echo were sent back to us for a few missions. How does he like being an ARC?"

"He says it's great, but a lot of responsibility," Jesse admitted. "I was asking him about the training when he pushed me out of the way. If he hadn't seen the droid, I would have died on Er'Kit."

The disgruntled tone in Jesse's voice was something Kix couldn't begrudge him. Er'Kit was no place to die, especially from a blaster shot by a droid. "Well, sounds like Fives was in the right place at the right time with his rangefinder pointed in the right direction. I'm sure he was glad to help you out."

"Yeah, I guess," Jesse said morosely, wincing as Kix started applying the bacta in long sweeping motions. "But maybe I'm not ARC material after all."

"That's not true," Kix said matter-of-factly. "I've seen you think on your feet, help the other troopers, and work independently better than most of the other men. Those are all signs of an ARC trooper. Just because you made a mistake doesn't mean that you're automatically out of the running. It wasn't even much of a mistake. A klick is a pretty far distance. Not many men would expect a droid sniper attack from that distance."

"Fives noticed," Jesse returned bitterly.

"Lucky for you," Kix reminded. "You may not remember this since it was right around the time that you were brought into the 501st, but Fives made more rookie mistakes than most troopers in the legion. Hell, he made more mistakes than most of the GAR and he's an ARC trooper now. You've got hope, kid."

"Kid?" Jesse repeated, aghast at the designation.

Kix shrugged. "As long as you insist on idolizing Fives, of all troopers, I'm going to call you 'kid'. He's a good man, but he'd be the first to tell you not to follow his example. Point is, he saved your life today. You saved the lives of two men on Socorro last week. Focus on doing your best work instead of what other troopers are doing and I promise you'll rise in the ranks. Understood?"

"Yes, sir," Jesse said sarcastically, but his smile was genuine as Kix affixed a bacta patch on either side of the wound and placed Jesse's arm in a sling.

"You'll have to stay here for a few hours while I monitor the progress of your healing," Kix warned him.

"That's okay, I could use a nap," Jesse agreed, settling easily against the flat pillow. "Thanks for everything, Kix."

Kix nodded back at him and went to start the paperwork on the injury. Thankfully, very few troopers had been injured on Er'Kit and he appreciated the lack of additions to his stack of forms, especially since he was falling ever further behind.

He wasn't even shocked when Fives and Echo stepped into the medbay an hour or so later.

"Hey, Kix!" Fives greeted, his voice ringing through the nearly-empty medbay. "We're here to see-"

"He's back there," Kix interrupted, pointing toward the section housing the beds. "If he's asleep, leave him alone."

"Good to see you, too," Fives grumbled even as Echo grinned.

Kix stood abruptly and Fives's eyes widened as he clearly wondered what the medic was going to do. Behind him, Echo glanced between the two like he was watching a bolo-ball match.

Kix braced his hands on the desk and leaned across it slightly. "Congratulations to both of you on becoming ARCs. I've never known two men who deserve it more. Fives, thank you for saving Jesse's life. I'm glad you're back with us, even if it's just for a few missions."

"Glad I could help," Fives said slowly, then grinned. "Jesse's a good man, even if he's a little… er, over-enthusiastic."

"Over-enthusiastic?"

"You're calling someone over-enthusiastic?"

Fives scowled at Echo and Kix's simultaneous and incredulous questions. "Fine, fine. I was worse. Probably still am. You don't have to gang up on me. I'm going to talk to Jesse now. At least he likes me."

As Fives and Echo stepped through the privacy wall and went to visit Jesse, Kix rolled his eyes and returned his focus to his paperwork. If there was a small smile on his face, he would never admit it.

---

A/N: Please feel free to reblog my work! I’m always trying to find friends and fellow Clone Wars fans, and the exposure really does help!

#Nobody Listens to Kix #star wars the clone wars #clone trooper kix #clone trooper jesse #clone trooper fives #clone trooper echo #clone troopers deserve better #one-shot #but part of a series #more to come

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queen-scribbles · 4 years ago

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Lisa Shepard vs Batarians

Behold, a meta about Lisa I’ve long wanted to write, inspired by this post about Torfan(got kinda long for just a reblog) and motivation provided by @fourthage‘s Mass Effect giveaway. (I’m much better about finishing things when I can give it a deadline, lol)

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Lisa is my Colonist/Ruthless Infiltrator Shep, and let me tell you, that background combo made her really interesting to play(through the first two games, at least; my computer crashed before I had a chance to import her to ME3, rip) bc she has this big, glaring problem with batarians. The tl;dr is Mindoir was deeply traumatizing and no batarian ever did enough to counter the extremely negative image she has of their race as a result. (apologies for slight stream-of-consciousness rambling, I tried to rein it in, but I think I was only partially successful >.>)

So we start, obviously, on Mindoir. Lisa’s the oldest of four with three younger brothers; Justin, Finn, and Connor, and had two best friends; Javier and Laura. Life was routine and uneventful and the only thing she cared about the larger galaxy was getting to explore it with Javi and Laura after they all graduated.

And then the batarian raid happened. Lisa didn’t see her parents die, but she did see friends die in the initial attack, as well as Laura’s dad. She had to watch Finn and his best friend(Talitha) get dragged to a shuttle. She, Javi, and Laura hid in a storage shed with their remaining younger siblings(one of Laura’s sisters was gone, too) in hopes of keeping them safe. They spent the next three days in there. They were found by a few batarian patrols, somehow managed to kill them all with bare hands and makeshift weapons(or stolen, Lisa got a pistol off one she killed), even as their own numbers got picked down, younger sibling by younger sibling, and then Laura, and then Javi, until.Lisa was the last one left, memory etched with hearing her best friends and younger brothers, brothers she’d promised her parents she’d look out for, die very terrible deaths.

She was found by a couple soldiers from the rescuing Alliance patrol, and actually attacked them when they first came in the storage shed. They had to calm her down, and one went so far as to pull off his helmet so she could see they were human and weren’t going to hurt her. He introduced himself as Gabe and guided her out of her personal hell, both literally and figuratively. After everything she’d witnessed and heard and knew had happened to the colony, to her home, at the hands of the batarians, Lisa didn’t feel the least bit guilty for being glad the Alliance killed every last one of the slaving bastard scum they found. She’d lost everyone in the world she cared about to those monsters, she had every right to be glad they paid for it.

The soldier, Gabe, stuck with her until she’d made it back to Earth and escorted her to the foster home that had agreed to take her in. checked up on her a few times, offered to let her live with him and his roommates(another man and a woman, all three of them soldiers) if she wanted to. She took him up on that, and by the end of the third or fourth month, he was big brother and best friend rolled into one. Being on Earth meant she didn’t really have much(if any) direct interaction with batarians, but she was still working through her trauma and every time she heard them mentioned in news reports it was batarian pirates attacking a civilian vessel or batarian slavers raiding another colony--human, turian, whatever, all it did was reinforce her hostile view of them as a race.

She joined the Alliance military when she turned eighteen, feeling it was the best way to act out her gratitude of them saving her. She still missed her family and friends, of course, but she was healing and adjusting and while batarians still get her hackles up, she wouldn’t go out of her way to cause trouble with them. Largely because that would reflect badly on the Alliance, and she doesn’t want that. She proves to be an excellent soldier, tech genius, and near-unparalleled sniper, which is what gets her the rec for N-school(courtesy of Captain Anderson, who was Gabe’s CO. Gabe introduced them the day she enlisted). She excels in N-school(she’s always been the sort to thrive on challenge) and is clearly going to graduate with flying colors, so she and Gabe work it out--he’s coming for the ceremony, they each manage to get leave for the following week, they’re gonna spend time catching up and celebrating and just get to see each other face to face for the first time in... over a year.

And then, the week before graduation, Gabe is killed rescuing a diplomat’s kid from, you guessed it, batarian pirates(he’s one of only three KIA on that mission, which doesn’t make it sting any less)..That is when they cross the point of no return in her eyes. Two separate groups of batarians are responsible for the deaths of her family twice over. Clearly this was not a “few bad individuals” thing; this is a failing of them as a people(A people who have enslaving others enshrined as part of their culture to the point of calling it discrimination when they’re not allowed to practice it).

She is a driven, pragmatic, determined individual who wants to represent humanity and the Alliance well and so works just fine alongside every other race in Council space. She’s always willing to help, also always willing to make the hard calls to get a job done bc she learned early that people die. You can’t save everyone every time. You still try your damnedest to do it, but sometimes you can’t. And sometimes people die as a result of your decisions and you have to be able to live with that. She can.

And then TORFAN. Well, first Elysium, and then Torfan. By this point, she’s N4, risen to Commander, and absolutely willing to push her squad however hard it takes to accomplish their goal. (In any circumstances, these just happen to hit a tad closer to home than usual) The fight through Torfan’s tunnels to the pirate base is brutal, and there are several times her men point out maybe they should turn back. But she pushes on bc their mission is to take out this group of pirates. In her mind, batarians are already a threat, given their culture of slaving, piracy, and utter disregard for life and others in general. If they get away with attempting a full-scale attack like they did on a world like Elysium, they’ll be exponentially more dangerous. So there have to be repercussions and they have to be swift and they have to be brutal and unflinching and if she’s the one who doles that out so be it.

It costs her 3/4 of her squad, but they do it. They fight the pirates to the point of surrender and then Lisa shoots them anyway. Her mission was to eliminate the enemy, and she’s A) worried the batarians are surrendering as a show, with no intention of actually being prisoners, and B) convinced even if they did surrender, the Hedgemony would demand their return as “political prisoners” or something, with good odds they’d be released after just enough time this “incident” will have faded from people’s memory, and she doesn’t want to risk either. So the dozen-odd surrendering batarians still.die. And while she didn’t take pleasure or satisfaction in doing it, she doesn’t regret it either. Her thought process is somewhere along the lines of “These are sadistic, murdering, slaving scumbags, who have the audacity to ask for the mercy they would never in a million years show their victims. The galaxy is better off without them.”) She doesn’t care it gets her labelled “The Butcher of Torfan�� and that people look askance at her when they know her record. She got the job done, the galaxy is just that much safer, and she’s not going to lose any sleep over batarians.

She makes N7 and gets the Spectre nomination bc she pushes herself just as hard as anyone under her command, always gets the job done, and--aside from batarians--has no issue working with other races. When it comes to anyone else; turians, asari, hanar, whoever, she’s all too happy to follow Kaidan’s “jerks and saint, just like us” philosophy and judge them on an individual basis, but--and I’ve actually had her say this in fic--”If you ever find a saintly batarian, let me know and I’ll pin a medal on their chest my-damn-self”. Between what’s known of batarians as a race and culture and her own first or second hand experience, there is nothing redeeming about them in her eyes. (And it’s a very good thing she didn’t run into any during that... week after the Talitha encounter in ME1, bc she probably would have ripped them to shreds with just her bare hands and her omnitool after hearing what that poor girl went through.) She’s not going to go out of her way to gleefully/vindictively slaughter them, but she’s not feeling too charitable or sympathetic toward them, either. If I may make a cross-franchise reference, Lisa’s feeling on batarians are very similar to how Fenris feels about mages in DA2, only unlike him, she hasn’t gotten any examples they’re not all Like That(TM).

As of the end of ME2, she has not seen any evidence to counter her view of batarians, so it’s a view she’s gonna go into ME3 holding(whenever I get around to completely redoing her game), and I don’t see her changing it much at this point. It’s a flaw, and it’s one that’s going to persist probably her entire life, but it made playing her so much fun. (especially since my two previous Shepards were 98% Paragon ANGELS who are best described as bleeding hearts. xD)

#lisa shepard #mass effect meta #hooo boy that got long #torfan #mindoir #tried to stay vague about what she saw on mindoir but if it's still bad enough i should tag let me know #mindoir was BAAAAD

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hongnanglen-arina · 4 years ago

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See You On Monday | SVT Interactive AU

05: Failure?

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Masterlist | Previous | Next

Warnings: a little angsty Words: 1.903 A/N: Hey there! Here’s the fifth chapter of my little experiment is here. Sorry, I thought it was posted yesterday but something went wrong I guess. Anyways, at the end of each chapter you have to decide for the next move (please show me your decision as a comment, a reblog or send an ask) Each week you have 3 days for making a decision until the next chapter comes out on Sunday. I hope you will like it ♡

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You curse under your breath but decide to speak up yourself and not tell them through Hoshi.

“D-don’t take the black pills! Only the white ones!”

“What?” Hoshi was helping Jun when he hears your voice. Loud and clear. He looks to your direction with confusion written all over his face when he notices it too. The pills from his box have a different color that yours. You don’t care if the others hear you or not. At least you are sure that one of them can so you don’t waste a minute and rush to the other side to collect all black pills before anyone can take them. You have no idea if this was really the right choice but something in you told you so. You have the feeling that you are doing the right thing.

As you rush to Wonwoo who has a black pill in his hand, his eyes are focused on yours as if he can see you. Although his eyes are half closed because of the poison, he raise his hand a little for you to take if out of his hand. Seeing them in pain caused your heart to ache. For a second, you stay beside him and doubt your decision. In your head it wasn’t a game anymore. As much as you tried to remember yourself that it’s just a game your friend had recommend to you, you slowly but steadily fell deeper into the story.

Hoshi’s voice pulls you back into reality so you quickly get up and help him hand out the white pills and assist them as much as possible, as someone no one can see.

After everyone who got poisoned swallowed a white pill, you watch them for a while before walking away and taking a seat a couple of tables away from them. Absentmindedly, you knead your thighs as your mind goes wild. Why two colors? This must be another test. But it’s a 50% possibility that you could be wrong. There was no hint that told you which one was the right one against the poison or maybe both are?

You panic slightly. What if it were the wrong pills? Or worse, both colors were wrong?? No that couldn’t be. There has to be a right choice. Or was it to just wait for it to be over? No. He said they would help. That narrator told you that they would help. He wasn’t lying, or-

“What are you thinking about?”

Your head snaps up to see Hoshi beside you, also sitting on a chair. After knowing who it was, you can’t help but to lower your gaze again. “I’m just worried i guess.”

The boy beside you makes an agreeing noise, gaze fixated at his friends as he folds his hands in his lap. Neither of you says a word. The room was quiet besides some soft voices, talking to the boys on the floor, saying reassuring words.

“I’m glad we have you here, helping us.” Hoshi tells you after a while. You look at him but he doesn’t meet your eyes. He doesn’t move at all. You notice how he bites on his lower lip, slightly chewing on it. He is nervous just as you are.

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“Have you heard that voice, Jeonghan?” Jeonghan nods at Seungcheol. “Yeah. Loud and clear as if she was right beside me when I was helping Vernon.” Seungcheol sighs and pats Seokmin’s shoulder who is sitting next to him, leaning against the wall. Now all 7 poisoned boys are sitting beside each other in one row, all against the wall. This way it is easier for the others to assist them in for example giving them water.

“Your nose isn’t bleeding anymore. The pill seems to work, ” Woozi says to Mingyu who is half smiling with closed eyes. “I feel a bit better though.”

Joshua’s head is resting on Jun’s shoulder as Seungcheol fans air at him. Previously he told him that he was feeling hot. Maybe because of the pain and the sweat. “I can’t believe i got poisoned. That’s a newbie mistake.”

“Thought you were clever,” Wonwoo jokes and suddenly Joshua has enough energy to look up to glare at him. “I’m sorry to correct you but I am.”

“Whatever guys.”

Jeonghan grins and shrugs. “Guess y’all have to listen to the maknae.”

“Wow, what a time to be alive.”

“Shush Seokmin.” Vernon smiles tired.

“Well, seems like y’all are fine again if y’all are able to talk like that.” Jeonghan snorts and helps Wonwoo with the water.

While the others feel better slowly, two of them inspect the reason of the chaos. Seungkwan and Minghao stand beside the long table and he holds a small plate with traditional sweets. Everything looks normal. Seungkwan wonders if the poison was sprinkled onto the food. With a fork, he pokes the fried chicken.

“They could have used it to make the food or use the poison as a ‘special finish’,” Minghao states, now holding the bowl with Japchae. Seungkwan nods and looks at the others with a sigh. That’s when he notices Hoshi sitting in the back, seemingly talking to himself.

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“Can I ask you something?”

Hoshi’s sudden voice makes you jump a little since it was rather quiet between the two of you. “Uhm, sure.”

“How did you know that the write pills were right and will help?”

“Uhh..” you have no answer to that. Fidgeting with the hem of your shirt, you look at the boys, avoiding Hoshi’s eyes on you. There is no denying the fact that it was just a feeling. That you weren’t 100% sure. “I… felt like it has to be. I’m sorry. It could have ended up very badly but you still listened to me.” The blonde boy beside you doesn’t react so you turn your head to him, catching him shake his head. “It’s okay. Everything’s fine. We shouldn’t think about what could have happened when they feel okay again. It worked and that’s all that matters.” You feel a little better hearing those words from him. Your intention was to help and nothing else.

“Thanks.”

Hoshi is about to say something when you see Seungcheol helps Wonwoo to walk over to where you are sitting with Hoshi. Wonwoo wipes off the sweat from his forehead with a white scarf while the other arm is wrapped around Seungcheol’s neck.

When they are nearly right in front of you, you get up and want to step aside when you hear Wonwoo’s voice that makes you stop in your tracks. “Where are you going?”

Swallowing, you look into his cat-like eyes. Seungcheol has a confused expression on his face. “What do you mean? Hoshi’s sitting there and not moving at all.”

“I don’t mean him. I mean her.”

Your eyes widen and that’s when you realize that Hoshi joined you earlier as well. Without seeing you? Automatically, you turn to Hoshi, pointing your finger at him. “D-do you…. also?” You blink at him for silently explaining what you are talking about.

He understands right away. “Yeah.”

“Since when!?”

“When you helped with the black pills.”

“And you??” You point at Wonwoo.

“Earlier. When it became dark in the room. But just for a second. And then.. again when you helped us.”

“W-wait. You are seeing the ghost!?” Finally Seungcheol joins your conversation, eyes wide when the realization slowly sink in.

Your mouth is slightly open. Why are you scared all of a sudden. Furrowing your eyebrows, you try to find words to form a sentence. To explain the situation.

Suddenly it was dark.

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When you open your eyes, you are lying on the cold floor. Groaning, you push yourself up with your hands so that you are sitting. Looking around, you can’t see anything but it seems empty. Where are the others? Why are you alone?

A faint sound finds its way to your ears. A whimper?

Your body feels heavy but you manage to get up. Where are you and what is that sound? Stumbling a few steps forward, the sound gets louder. It is a whimper.

“Who’s that?” You ask into the empty room. It seems as if it comes from the next room.

“It’s going to be alright. Don’t worry. It’s… going to be alright.”

“R-really?”

Someone was crying. Continuing to walk towards the voices, your breathing quickens. What the hell is happening? Why are you trapped in a dark room all by yourself. Why is someone crying and the strange feeling that it is someone you’ve been with just a moment ago makes you feel bad. You feel hot and cold at the same time when you hear voices again.

“Why don’t you say something? Open your eyes!”

Tears are filling up your eyes. They are indeed familiar voices. “Hey! What is happening!? Are you alright???” Your shouting voice fills the room and the echo hits you. You feel small and helpless. Without noticing, tears start to roll down your cheeks.

Out of nowhere a deep voice appears and startles you, causing your breathing to hitch.

“Seems like you care a lot for them. You forgot what I told you, mh?”

With your palms, you wipe the tears off your face and ball your fists, ready to fight whoever and wherever that narrator is. “Your mission was to just make it out alive. With no bond.” He pauses and your shoulders drop. You are alive. But are the others? And what about the bond? You didn’t bond with them, do you? You still know that it is all just a game and not real- “And you failed.” “I didn’t fail!” You are quick with your reaction. Your courage to contradict surprising you as well. You feel offended all of a sudden. You did everything you could and the boys even felt better with the pills. You didn’t fail.

“What about your tears?” Your breath hitches again. “You care for them.”

“B-but-“

“Controlling emotions isn’t an easy task, I’ll give you that. Actually I’m a little sad. I wanted to watch you a little longer. Too bad.”

You stand there, staring into the darkness while the crying in the background becomes more and more less audible.

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“God, my head..” You cough and whine before opening your eyes. You feel something over your eyes. The VR glasses! Are you back in your living room? Hesitantly, you grab it and pull it off your head, rubbing your eyes and adjust to the light. It is dark in your room. The only light comes from the tv which shows you the cover of the game. Seeing it makes your heart ache.

“They look so happy… I wonder how they are… wait. Don’t be stupid. They are just characters in a game!” You never fell for a game like that and catching yourself to actually think it’s real makes you even more embarrassed. You turn around and want to go away but something makes you stop in your tracks. Turning to the tv again, you look at the cover. Your eyes roam over the picture of the 13 boys.

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What are you going to do?

Start the game again OR let it be?

You can decide.

#seventeen scenarios #seventeen fanfic #Seventeen #seventeen au #au:see you on monday #kpop fanfic #kpop au #carat #svt #seventeen ff

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manggojooz · 5 years ago

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Foolish Love, Fake Love (Part 3)

pairing: idol!Jungkook x bodyguard!reader

word count: ~1,800

genre: idol!au; angst; romance; drama; enemies to lovers sort of thing

warnings: none

previous part: Prologue | Part 1 | Part 2

summary: If all you can give me is a fake love, then I will be the fool to pretend that it is all true.

comments: sorry if the chapter is a bit short haha but im trying to get myself back into writing in baby steps =) pls comment or reblog if you liked this <3

How do you explain love? Is it a feeling? Is it an agreement? Is it an experience?

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The day felt like months.

You were using Yuri’s phone to surf the net, her nose poking into the side of your chin as she leaned against your shoulder, trying to read the tiny words on her phone too.

“When are you getting your phone back?”, Yuri asked soullessly.

“Whenever the reporters stop calling, I hope...”, you answered. As though on cue, Sejoon bursts into the waiting room, causing Yuri to knock her forehead into your cheekbone when she abruptly shot up straight.

Sejoon dragged his feet along as he approached your side and held out a handphone for you. “Use this phone in the meantime, I've saved a few contacts in it for you. And Director Lee wants to see you for a while”, he said sheepishly.

You handed Yuri’s phone back to her and Sejoon caught a glimpse of the article you had been reading.

---

As you made your way to the higher floors of the BH building, the lift ride was silent and awkward. Half a day has since passed after Rapid released the exclusive article confirming that Jungkook was dating you. Sejoon suddenly blurted, “I suggest you don’t read any of the articles...”

You looked at him silently.

“You know the saying right... a pen is mightier than a sword... in this case, a keyboard is definitely mightier than a gun”, his tone was serious yet soothing at the same time.

“I know... I won’t take the articles or the comments too seriously”, you said almost nonchalantly.

He shook his head slightly, “it’s easier said than done, Y/N. It’s better if you just don’t read them at all”, he stared ahead as he nagged gently at you.

Somehow you felt a tinge of warmth from the situation, which softened the otherwise difficult and draining day.

---

“Since it doesn’t make sense for you to be a bodyguard anymore, we just said you are a staff member. But let’s be clear, you are not qualified to do any other job so your job will still be the same. In fact, now you have more to guard...”, Director Lee was rambling on more than she usually would.

You only nodded in response. For some reason, since the earlier part of the day you have felt like you no longer own a voice. It is as if you had given your tongue to the sea witch but in return you got a fake prince.

“We have put all the policies in place to ensure employee confidentiality on this situation. But since you are a lead character in all of this, we believe it calls for a little more documentation...”, she fumbled around, tossing files around her desk. It was the first time her room seemed a little messier than it usually would be.

Her assistant who had been standing next to her this whole time, meekly pointed towards a black thin folder resting under her elbow. “Alright, I got it”, she snapped.

She opens the folder and tosses a document in front of you. “Sign it”, she instructs, and her assistant almost immediately holds out a pen to you.

You stare at them with a puzzled expression and Sejoon, who had been standing in the far corner of the room, peers over in concern.

“I’ll read through it first...”, you were hardly even batting an eyelash at the whole situation now. After all the entire day has been incredulous on top of more incredulity.

Director Lee scoffs and was about to say something when Sejoon swoops in, grabs the document as well as your arm, hurrying to pacify the executive, “I will explain it all to her quickly and will get it signed by the end of today, Director Lee.”

---

“Clause 4.3, basically it’s just saying that this arrangement will be for an initial three months from today, and the management can decide whether to shorten or lengthen this term. Clause 4.4 says that you shall not speak about this arrangement with anyone outside the company...”, Sejoon was rattling all the terms written in the contract.

“... Clause 5.2...”, he paused and cleared his throat while scratching his forehead, looking rather uneasy, “... Clause 5.2 says that you cannot fall in love with Jungkook... ummm... I can’t read the rest of it to you, it’s too cringe for me... anyway point is that you should just stay professional ok?”, Sejoon gave you those little sheepish glances he was always so good at.

“What if I break any of these terms?”, you asked outrightly with folded arms, sitting across from Sejoon in the tiny pantry reserved for staff members.

“Ummm... let’s see”, he flips to one of the pages at the back, “here... you gotta return all the advance payment made to your company and its employees... meaning the payments made to Ssam Chun and Yuri too... and there’s a penalty sum”, Sejoon pauses again. “But Y/N, I hope you know this isn’t what should be of concern right? If you get into the bad books of the management, it’s not going to be just paying back all these monies.”

Sejoon was right, the power and influence that a relatively large company like BH would have, cannot be summarised in just monetary terms.

“I’ll think about it...”, it all made you more reluctant to sign off on that stupid contract.

“Y/N, there isn’t much of an option here...”, Sejoon said but he still handed the agreement to you, knowing you probably needed some time to come to terms with it.

---

You clenched the contract tightly in one hand and walked down the long corridor. This feeling was indescribable, you were confused, you were alone, you were afraid – it just felt so wrong and your entire body felt the weight of it.

You were trudging along towards the lift lobby when you think you heard Jungkook’s voice coming from a room further down. You couldn’t hear what he was saying but as you approached the room you heard a woman’s voice too.

“No Jungkook, it’s ok... I have no right to meddle in your private life like that”, she said coyly and you recognise that it is Yeonjoo’s voice. She had a distinct tonality when she spoke, and people often praised her for it – it was somehow cute and cool at the same time but not unnatural sounding.

“What do you mean, Noona?”, Jungkook sounded taken aback.

“I mean... if you are really dating her, I should be.. no, I am happy for you... I really shouldn’t have come down here today... but I just wanted to say I'm sorry for what happened the other night and I hope nothing has changed between us...”, her voice was getting softer and you had to strain your ears to hear what she was saying.

You rolled your eyes, “she’s good”, you thought to yourself. This was a classic example of managing her fish farm and Jungkook was one dumb fish trapped inside. It's not that he can’t leave, he willingly does not leave, and she sure seemed bent on making sure it stays this way.

“No, Noona... you have no idea how grateful I am that you came down. They took my phone away since this morning and I've been stuck here wondering how I am going to explain all this to you... She’s really our new bodyguard, I mean... staff member... I didn’t even know her name before today! So how can it be possible that I am dating her?”, Jungkook was exasperated.

To think about it, half the people you have guarded before probably do not remember your name. Yet now he remembers you, even though it is for one of the worst reasons ever.

Just when Yeonjoo was going on about Jungkook not having to explain himself to her, someone taps your shoulder, giving you quite the shock and you lunged backwards almost hitting him in the process.

“Oh it’s you! You gave me a shock!”, Kijin exclaimed.

“Look who’s talking”, you mumbled snidely, glaring at the man who landed you in this situation in the first place.

“Oppa? Is someone outside?”, Yeonjoo called out.

Kijin gestured for you to enter the room, as though saying ‘would you rather go in yourself or have me drag you inside?’

The moment you entered, Jungkook visibly tensed up.

“Were you eavesdropping on us?”, his frown was so deep that you started getting a little nervous.

“I was just walking past, and I heard your voice so I wanted to see if it’s a good time to talk because there’s something-”, you were making an attempt to explain yourself.

“There’s nothing to talk about between us...”, he cut you off promptly and continued frowning, his tone was very hostile.

“Jungkook, there’s no need to talk to her like that...”, Yeonjoo gently chided him, “she probably isn’t happy about landing in this situation either, just like how you are feeling.”

Jungkook lets out a light chuckle, “Apparently her handphone wallpaper is a photo of me... so I really don’t think she’s feeling what I’m feeling right now”, he said rather dejectedly. This somehow piqued Yeonjoo’s attention.

“So you are a fan?”, her eyes were already pretty huge but it got even larger, “wow... and will you still be following Jungkook around for his schedule after all the... news?”

“Seems like it... it’s still my job to do it...”, you answered earnestly, regretting coming towards the room at all.

“You must really love your job”, Jungkook suddenly turned sarcastic and you felt a twitch in your chest.

“I do...”, you tried to keep up that professional posture but was sure that your insides were tangling up slowly.

“Even if your job is making a fool of you like this?”, this was the longest Jungkook had ever looked at you in your eyes.

“I’d rather be a fool”, you answered.

“As opposed to a ---?”, he asked, still with the same annoyance he had when you had entered the room.

“As opposed to a liar...”, you thought to yourself.

You decided to face the situation and his concerns head on. "Yes, I like you as a fan, but it won’t become anything else just because of this situation.”, you said as you put down the contract on the desk before them, flipping to Clause 5.2.

“Love is not an arrangement, and it can never come from a contract. This...”, you tapped the agreement slightly with your fingertip, “this is not love. And I'm not foolish enough to believe it is. So, you really need not be worried about it either. If nothing else, just know that... as a fan, I want you to be happy at the end of the day.”

“And I will be... if you can keep that promise...”, Jungkook replied after glancing at the page laid opened before his eyes. To say his words didn’t hurt you would be a lie, but there was also a sense of relief that at least he killed any hopes before they could be groomed.

Without answering him, you picked up a random pen from the notepad holder in the middle of the table and signed your name at the end of the document.

---

Love is a promise.

And you promised, never to love him.

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unbearablynaive · 5 years ago

Text

A Little Sleeping Problem (Illinois x Reader)

A/N: Howdy doody everyone! Two so close together? Crazy am I right? Thank you for all the love on the last fan fic (which y’all can find here). Anywho! This Illinois fluff fan fic request comes from @bitchin-deviant ! Thanks for the request and I had alot of fun writing this! I hope you enjoy! I’m so sorry it took so long! AS ALWAYS! Please reblog with a comment or something! I love the feedback!

Words: 1K

Genre: All fluff. So much fluff.

Warnings: Light Cursing

Tags: @vibrantmissy (if you too would like to be added to the tag list just send me a message or leave a comment on any of my posts stating that you wish to be added and get tagged in my future fan fics!)

________________________________________________________________

“Look, you get to sleep in the shower because there is no way in Hell that I am sleeping in the same bed as you.” You stood at the entrance to the hotel room looking at the queen-sized bed in disgust. Another shitty motel that was just like the others except for this one only had one bed and you weren’t too keen on sharing it with Adventure Boy over here. You two may have been working together for about three months now but that doesn’t mean you were on that base. No, absolutely not. Have feelings for Illinois? Out of the question. That man was a selfish jerk who couldn’t help but flirt and compliment himself all in one sentence.

“What? I can keep you warm if you want.” The man chuckled softly as he pushed past you and walked over to the bed.

“What are you doing? No! We’re not sleeping together! I called the bed!” You burst out in anger as he gave you a cocky look and sat down on the bed. As he proceeded to stretch out and make himself comfortable you stormed over ready to shove him off if you had to. “The bed is mine Illinois. Now get off.”

“Here, I’ll tell you what we’ll do. We’ll flip for the bed. The loser gets to sleep in the shower. Got it?” The man sat up reaching into his pocket and pulling out a small coin before you could even agree. “Alrighty. Heads I win tails you lose. Got it?” and with that, the adventurer flipped the coin up in the air and caught it before he placed it on the back of his wrist. Illinois moved the top hand and it revealed the coin heads up. “Heads. Oof, nice try Y/N. Better luck next time and maybe you could even snuggle with me.”

“Heads? Ugh! You’re insufferable, you know that? An absolute asshole!” You threw down your backpack in anger as you watched the adventurer shimmy himself into a more comfortable position. “Fine, have the stupid bed. I’m going to go take a shower.” You turned and stormed off towards the bathroom, slamming the door behind you with as much force as you could.

Illinois chuckled to himself as he placed his hands behind his head. He couldn’t help but find your outburst over the bed cute. Hell, there were a lot of things about you that he seemed to find cute and the list kept growing. For example, just now, the singing in the shower as you cleaned up. Closing his eyes, he fell asleep, listening to the sound of your voice over the running water.

A couple of minutes passed and you storm out of the shower just as angry as you stormed in. A towel wrapped around you, you slapped Illinois on the leg, waking him up from his nice little cat nap. Oh, boy were you livid, standing there holding a towel around your body as you glare daggers at the groggy man. “Get up. Get. Up. Heads I win, tails you lose? Seriously?! You’re such an asshole and a cheater. Cheaters forfeit the bed. So get out.” You whacked him again for good measure as you watched him get up, hands raised in surrender. Once he was halfway up, you pushed him gently out of the road and smoothed out the creases on the bed. “Oh and take a shower, Illinois. You smell disgusting.” You commented without even looking at him.

Illinois laughed slightly out loud and dodged towards the shower before you could slap him again. “Alright, alright, alright. Fine! But no peeking.” He winked and ducked behind the door of the bathroom quickly before you could throw a pillow at his cheeky face. You tried to ignore his voice as he began to sing, reminding yourself how annoying he was. How stupid, arrogant, selfish, handsome, and annoying he was, him and that stupid face of his. After changing into some form of PJs you hopped into the bed and made yourself comfortable trying not to associate the previous warmth with Illinois' body. You could feel a warmth in your cheeks at the thought and you cleared your throat quickly trying to push it from your mind.

As the minutes passed, the shower finally shut off and out walked Illinois, with only a towel around his waist and a shit-eating grin. "How's the bed feel? Nice and warm I hope." He teased until he caught the pillow that came flying at his face. "Whoa there. Fiesty. Calm yourself down Tiger Lily." Wham! A blanket slapped him in the face evading his hands.

"Call me Tiger Lily one more time and you're sleeping in the hallway." You growled trying hard to keep the red in your cheeks to a minimum.

"Fine fine fine! I'm going. I'm going. Sleep well...Dandelion." He quickly grabbed some clothes to sleep in and with that the door to the bathroom quickly closed before you could throw anything else at his smirking face.

An hour or two passed and you were almost asleep when you heard the door to the bathroom creak open. You sat up slightly, raising an eyebrow curiously. In the doorway stood Illinois holding his pillow and blanket in hand. "It's awfully wet in here." He pouted sticking out his lower lip and turning on the puppy eyes. "Do you mind?" He asked in a soft tone, placing his hands together as if begging, "Pleaseee…"

"I...uh." You sighed heavily and rolled your eyes before nodding. "Fine. Come on." You motioned for him to come over and Illinois immediately grinned and ran over leaping into the bed next to you. "But if you snore even once it's back into the shower with you. Got it?" You rolled over so that your back faced him as you tried to hide the smile that had crossed your lips.

"Goodnight Honeysuckle." You heard the adventure mumbled softly.

"Goodnight Illinois." You whispered in return not even annoyed at the pet name as your eyes began to close, but before you fell asleep you felt a strong arm wrap around your waist as Illinois pulled his body close to yours. You felt your neck flush and your cheeks warm at the touch but you didn't pull away. No, maybe this adventurer wasn't so bad after all.

#illinois #a heist with markiplier illinois #a heist with markiplier #ahwm #ahwm illinois #fan fiction #markiplier fanfiction #a heist with markiplier fanfiction #ahwm fanfiction #illinois fanfic

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randomfandomimagine · 5 years ago

Text

Soul of a Warrior. Chapter 16: Calm Before The Storm

Fandom: The Witcher

Ship: Jaskier x Nissa (OC)

Previous Chapter - Chapter Index - Next Chapter

AO3

Please reblog and leave a comment, it would make my day!

Our relationship doesn’t change much, and at the same time, it changes drastically. We still flirt, we still joke and we are still extremely close and touchy. The only true difference is that we now openly kiss. Then how is it that our entire dynamic feels different? Is it because of the simple knowledge that the intense burning feelings are reciprocated? Is that why I can’t get enough of Jaskier? I feel closer to him than I have ever felt with anyone, and his mere presence makes me happier than I ever thought I could be. His touch alone heals the past wounds with the graze of his fingers. It makes me smile as he suddenly pulls me in closer and traps me in an embrace that I have no intention in escaping.

“Come here, angel” He says as he repeatedly kisses my face all over. My cheek, my temple, my jaw, my eyelids, the corner of my lips, just anywhere he can reach. It seems as though he can’t get enough of me either. I giggle at his endless and tireless adoring touches.

Geralt, ahead of us, loudly grunts in a clear complaint to our blatant displays of affection.

“Do that again” I tell Jaskier, and he loses no time in returning to his amorous ministrations.

“You love it, don’t you?” He smirks against my cheek, but I squeeze his hands on my stomach to claim his attention.

“I do, and by all means don’t stop” I tease him, earning a confused look from him. “But I was referring to the other thing”

“Oh” Jaskier bashfully laughs, begrudgingly quitting his kisses even if his arms linger.

There are many things I know about Jaskier. That dusk is his favorite time of the day. That he fidgets his fingers when he is nervous. That he often talks in his sleep. That he wrote his first song when he was eighteen. As it turns out, however, I have so much more to learn about him. For example, that his real name is Julian Alfred Pankratz, even if I will still always call him Jaskier, or otherwise, stupid bard. Another of the incredible facts I have learned about him is that he does a flawless Geralt of Rivia impression. I try not to gather the witcher’s attention as I muffle my laughter at Jaskier’s growling voice. He sounds exactly like Geralt.

“Fuck…” Jaskier says now, emulating the witcher’s deadpan voice to perfection.

I have to cover my mouth with my hand not to laugh out loud. Even so, I hide my face on his shoulder to suffocate the badly contained giggling. If Geralt discovers us, it will unleash his anger. Knowing this, Jaskier is having lots of fun making me laugh and putting me in his radar.

“What are you laughing at?” Geralt doesn’t bother to stop walking or even glance at us.

Jaskier takes a breath, prepared to reply, and so I quickly cover his mouth with my hand. Whatever he was about to say, I know him well enough to realize it is better if it doesn’t reach Geralt’s ears.

“Nothing” I innocently say, and the witcher only grunts in annoyance.

These few days, and much to Geralt’s vexation, Jaskier and I have been inseparable, quite literally so, as our hands seem to permanently be fused together. Our fingers always find each other to easily press our palms together, just like they do right now. Jaskier and I exchange a look and lowly giggle together. This childish energy continues on as we murmur and follow after Geralt.

After several more days of travel, we have finally reached Cintra. Everything has regained a feeling of normalcy after we visited Mousesack, Geralt’s druid friend, and he helped us recover our horses as well as our belongings left behind. After that, Geralt accepted a witcher job that we decided to join him in. I still can’t believe we have convinced Jaskier to accompany us, or rather, I have. Kader’s spirit seems to have taken over me as I find myself understanding his yearning for adventure more and more, as well as his fascination for the witcher’s job after all that we have experienced together.

A subtle shift in the ambience warns me that we are getting close. It feels eerie and heavy. Jaskier seems to feel it too, because his feet halt and his hand squeezes mine. Watching the witcher, I think of the quickest most absurd way to distract my preoccupied lover.

“Don’t you ever get the urge to braid Geralt’s hair?” I whisper to him, to which he chuckles. Jaskier has no problem in following along with my silliness as he stares at Geralt as well.

“I wish I knew how to braid”

“I could teach you”

“Really, you would do that for me? You’re so kind”

“It’s not every day I get to teach the great Jaskier something”

“Are you flirting with me, Nissa?”

“I am, thanks for noticing”

The witcher doesn’t stop walking, but he interrupts us again when we start giggling.

“What are you two muttering?” He turns to us, and I cringe a bit at the sight.

“Shit, I forgot about his eyes” I avert my gaze, finding the change jarring.

“Oh, gosh!” Jaskier exclaims himself at the sight of Geralt’s frightening black eyes. “I will never get used to that”

Surely, Geralt took the elixir knowing how dark it would be inside the crypt. Nonetheless, a part of me believes the witcher was having a bit of fun by taking the potion beforehand, precisely for Jaskier’s amusing reaction.

“We’re here” Indeed, I catch a glimpse of a smirk on Geralt’s lips. “Are you coming in?”

Now that we have arrived, I hesitate. Even from the outside, I can tell it is pitch black inside, and I can’t imagine myself navigating the dark crypt. Strange sounds reach my ears even from afar. Geralt won’t be facing only ghouls, as I believed. Imagining myself in there, I already feel the chills creeping up my neck. That place will be swarming with spiders, which would be the least of my concerns. I can picture the dread and paranoia as I blindly advance the claustrophobic rooms. For a change, I have no need to subject myself to that.

“Uh, no” Jaskier mutters for me. “No, we will wait for you here, thank you very much”

He firmly grasps my hand as he vehemently shakes his head. Perhaps he is worried that I might still run after Geralt. I no longer have any intention to do so.

“Good” Geralt absently rests his hand against the medallion hanging from his neck and then unsheathes his sword. “Stay here”

“Geralt?” My eyes quickly fall upon the pitch darkness inside the crypt before settling over his burly figure once more. “Be careful”

Geralt nods his head and faces his back to us. Before he enters, however, a growl echoes from the depths of the crypt. His shoulders grow tense and he pauses for a moment.

“Fuck” I mouth, just as Geralt speaks the word. Jaskier laughs and kisses me in the cheek.

As the witcher immerses himself into the crypt, I turn to my beloved. His bright grin awaits me as it rests against my jaw now. The butterflies return in anticipation, and although I truly enjoy his lips traveling down my neck, I take a deep breath to focus and quiet down my racing heart. We are both eager to make up for lost time, but not yet. Not now. We must take this opportunity to train again. We have been during every break in order to teach Jaskier some self-defense techniques. Or rather, I have while Geralt watches him fumble with the dagger in amusement.

“Jaskier…” I pipe up, mustering all my willpower to ask him to move away.

“If you tell me you don’t like it, I will stop” He replies against my neck, with a cocky hint to his voice.

“Oi” I push him away from me, although reluctantly. “I have something else in mind”

“Do you now?” He smirks, especially so when my hand sneaks past his doublet. “Oh, yes, show me then”

I then pull the dagger that he clings to his waistband. It is a relief to see he still carries it with him. As the realization hits, Jaskier groans in exasperation and hides his face in my neck. His warmth is enveloping and comfortable, but I must resist him.

“Ugh… please, no…” He miserably covers his face with his hands. “Not again, Nissa…”

I watch him without batting an eye. After a bit, he shows his face again. To further entice me, he shows me those trained puppy eyes and pouts his bottom lip. When I calmly shake my head at him, he runs a hand through his thick brown hair and huffs in resignation.

“Honestly, Nissa” He takes my hand as a last resort. “It’s so tedious and dull, I much rather be doing something else with you”

“You need to know how to defend yourself” I offer him the dagger, and although he eyes it, he refuses to take it. “I don’t want you getting hurt again, Jas”

Jaskier sighs, rolling his eyes with such fervor that I fear they might get stuck on his skull. Then, however, he sighs and his vexed exasperation turns to fond admiration as he watches me.

“I won’t” His arms fall around me, yet in a different manner they usually do. He is now using a lock I have taught him, securing the grip by holding his own wrist. It keeps me pinned against him. “So what happens if I refuse?”

“That’s daring” I push a hand against his chest, though he does not budge and instead tightens his hold on me. Now I have no space to move as our fronts are pressed together. “Especially given that I am armed and you are not”

“You can never hurt me” He is cocky enough to not only whisper those words, but to also lean his mouth dangerously close to mine as he does.

“Do you have a death wish, stupid bard?” I lean the tip of the dagger below his chin.

Jaskier cocks an eyebrow, and although he doesn’t move, the smugness lingers on his lips. There we stand, not moving an inch. His mouth is still dangerously close to mine. It would be terribly easy to kiss him, and the offer is far too tempting. He knows this and smirks.

Of course I would never hurt him. I just hoped he had the decency of pretending this was a real fight. It is completely useless given that he is determined not to train now. As well as the fact that I cannot resist him no matter how hard I try. I glare at him, though he holds my gaze as I lower the weapon. He nods his head, satisfied, and drops his arms. His bright smile returns with ease as he stares at me. When I shake my head at him, he plops down in a big boulder and pouts at me from below.

“Why don’t you just sit here instead?” He suggestively pats his lap. “Rest for a bit, darling”

“I mean it, Jaskier” I roll my eyes at him despite the smile that tugs at the corners of my lips. A similar gesture plays on his even as he pushes my hand away, and with it the dagger. “You need to keep learning and-“

“Then why don’t you have Geralt teach me, hm?”

“Because I need an excuse to be this close to you”

“You don’t need any excuses”

I yelp as he unexpectedly takes ahold of my hips and pulls me down into his lap. He lovingly squeezes me against him and nuzzles my neck. I have found my sides aren’t the only tickling spot, as the back of my shoulders grows tingly with his touch.

“Don’t…” I try to convince myself that training is more important than this, although less pleasurable. “Jas…”

“Don’t?” He laughs as he moves to delicately kiss the bit of skin exposed in my shoulder. “Don’t what?”

“You know what, Jaskier…” My arms find their way around his neck as I give in and pull him closer against me. I clench my jaw when he smugly smirks against me.

“Just relax, Nis” With his words, I heave a deep breath and lay my head on his shoulder.

I have been a bit tense ever since he got hurt. Honestly, it terrifies me that I may not be able to heal him again if he were to be injured once more. All this stress melts away, however, when his nimble fingers sink into my hair. I close my eyes and lose myself in the feeling of his loving caresses.

“Aren’t you tired?” His tender voice nearly lulls me to sleep, as I am indeed fatigued. “You’ve got many visits lately”

“People need healers, just like they need witchers”

“And bards, as well”

“Do they now? What do you do, dear bard?”

“I, my lovely Nissa” He pauses dramatically. “Bring joy and cheer to the hearts of people by means of song”

“Do you?” Our gazes meet, and when they do, I cock an eyebrow at him.

“Why, of course!” Jaskier frowns in response. I can only laugh as I tease him more.

“Do you really think of your music so highly?” I hold on to his nape as I move my mouth dangerously close to his. He takes a deep breath, though he gulps as he glances down to my lips. I smirk, but don’t move.

“Don’t you start it too” Now he is the one trying to distance himself from me, holding a finger up. “Geralt complains about my songs, like he doesn’t enjoy them. You both love them, don't you dare deny it”

“We don’t” A laugh escapes me when he gasps and gawks at me.

“Nis-“ Before he can complain, I silence him with a kiss. My hand cups his cheek, and my thumb caresses him to confirm that I wasn’t serious in my taunting, even if he already knows.

Our lips move in sync, hungry for each other’s taste, as we cling on to the other’s body. The sound of our love, translated into kisses, fills the silent environment. My lungs start burning and begging for oxygen, and only then do I break away from him. Our eyes meet and we smile. We laugh together. I have been missing these brief intimate moments. We stop to rest too sparingly, and even when we do Geralt is not too keen on putting up with our affection.

I accommodate myself against his lap, overcome with that feeling of happiness once more. If we hadn’t been a pair of idiots, we could have had this sooner, though perhaps destiny meant it to happen this way... to ensure it was the right moment, that we were properly prepared to reach this part in our relationship. Perhaps we needed to be separated for a bit in order to get here.

As he repeatedly pecks my jaw, I giggle and lock my arms around his neck. Jaskier’s lips suddenly latch to my neck once more, more passionately than before. Heat arrives to my cheek and spreads down my body, filling me within and leaving me breathless.

“Jaskier!” I call him in outrage between ragged breaths.

“Hm?” He only asks, not stopping his ministrations.

“Geralt will return any moment” I remind him when his mouth and hands start growing hungry. The downside of our wait is the fact that our passion now overflows as we had been repressing it for so long.

Jaskier complies and only nuzzles my neck instead. I sigh in relief, instructing my accelerated heart to quiet down. The torture of being with him without being with him had been unbearable for me too. The more I think about it, the more I wonder how I had enough restraint not to throw myself at him. Perhaps the fear of rejection was too great. I smile in content and forget about all that. We are here now, together.

Returning to our previous position, his hand is in my hair once more. I shove my face in the crook of his neck as he caresses me and lowly starts singing an improvised tune.

“You’re going to put me to sleep…” He has definitely done a good job in soothing my anguish. I feel completely relaxed, nearly lulled to slumber with the marvelous sound of his beautiful voice. Jaskier laughs.

The short pause that follows foretells mischief. I never find out why. Something heavily suddenly drops next to us. I jump in alarm, and Jaskier yelps as well. Confused, the both of us look to see a ghoul head on the ground. Geralt walks to reunite with us, saving his sword.

“Bloody hell…” Jaskier’s hand moves to rest against his chest.

“You have a twisted sense of humor, witcher” I tell him, averting my eyes from the sight.

“Don’t do that!” Jaskier absently ushers me off his lap to stand up and scold him. “You scared me out of my wits, Geralt!”

The witcher smirks a bit, staring at me. Although he startled me too, I must admit it was quite funny. Jaskier, however, is going on about how rude it was and how Geralt is a brute.

“Good to know you have my back, Jaskier” He teases him in a deadpan voice. The bard follows after him when Geralt heads back towards the horses.

“I mean it, Geralt!” Jaskier continues speaking nonsense. “How would you-?”

Calm throughout his melodrama, I take him by the shirt and pull him against me. When my lips smash against his, he breathes out and it doesn’t take long for him to melt into the kiss. I smile, and he puts a hand on my side to squeeze it. Giggling to his retaliation, I pull away and grin at him.

“How did you do that?” Geralt quickly turns to us.

“Do what?” I separate myself from Jaskier, even if my hand lingers over his shirt and plays with his chest hair.

“Shut him up” The witcher watches us intently, and I have to purse my lips in amusement.

“I kissed him” I don’t say that I did so just to, in fact, shut him up. It’s clear for our friend.

“Hm” Geralt turns back around and continues walking. “Maybe it’s not so bad after all…”

“Unbelievable!” Jaskier takes my hand off him and scowls at me. “By all means, speak your mind about how insufferable you think I am, Nissa, you-“

I kiss him again, smirking against his lips. Jaskier melts into the exchange once more. Both his hands fly to my waist in an automatic gesture. I show him an angelical smile as we pull away and he grins like a fool.

“Heh...” Jaskier cutely wrinkles his nose at me. “Had I known I was so irresistible, I…”

“Yes?” I encourage him when he stops himself.

“Wait, did you just do it again?” When I push my face against his shoulder to suffocate my laughter, he insistently pats the small of my back. “Oi, answer me, Nissa!”

I press my lips together, trying not to laugh. I know it will only earn me his never ending outrage. It becomes a hard task when Geralt grins at the bard’s outraged ramblings.

Another city, another inn. After so long, they all start blurring together. The only real proof of the passing of time is the situation we are in. The first inn welcomed us as nearly strangers. Then we were companions and almost friends. Now… well, now things are very different. As well as a strengthening of our bonds, there is another change. Precariousness hangs in the air. We have been evading the subject, yet that won’t make the problem disappear. We must face it and do something about it.

Geralt nods his head, hidden under his hood, and quietly occupies a table in the corner of the tavern. Jaskier and I make our way towards the reception, knowing what we are to do. My stomach churns in anticipation as we reach the weary innkeeper.

“Hello, good sir” Jaskier starts, making use of his particular charm. “We are looking for someone, can you help us?”

“Who?” The man replies, glancing from one to the other.

I approach the counter to address him. I have to make a conscious effort not to look at Geralt waiting at the table. Even if he is wearing the hooded cape, I worry for him.

“A group of treasure hunters” I continue, which Jaskier allows me. “Most of them have brown hair. One of them has a big scar on his jaw, here”

As soon as I point a finger to my own face, the barkeeper squints and nods. By the disgust in his eyes, I can tell he has definitely encountered them.

“A bunch of scoundrels” Indeed, he nods his head. “As far as I know, they headed for the outskirts”

Jaskier and I share a look of understanding. A sinking feeling reaches my stomach.

“Will there be anything else?” The man asks us, and Jaskier is quick to answer.

“Three tankards of your best ale, please” Expertly hiding his restlessness, he leans on the counter.

We take the mugs, thanking the innkeeper, and return with Geralt. My head boils with thoughts. They are still here. Perhaps we can anticipate their next assault by attacking first. The three of us are done hiding and willing to face it.

“They’re at the outskirts” Jaskier says as he sits in front of Geralt and hands him the ale.

“They might have a hideout there” His voice projects from the depths of the cape.

“I hate to be a downer, but we are actively seeking those who want to kill us and nearly succeeded many times” The bard sighs, gesticulating quite a lot as he rests his hands over the table. “Are we sure this is a good idea?”

“What is our other option?” I don’t like this anymore than he does, but we have to retaliate. “Let them kill us? Sit by and wait to be slaughtered?”

Jaskier watches me in silence, pressing his lips together in unease.

“We’ll go to the outskirts first thing tomorrow” Geralt’s golden eyes shine slightly under the cape. “We need to be well rested and prepared”

“And uh… what is my role here?” Jaskier asks, looking from me to him. “A distraction? I can do that”

I smirk, and although I'm about to tease him, I wish he could just stay behind where he is safe. However, just like Geralt, he is involved in this. Those men made sure of it when they injured him. It isn’t only a personal matter to me because of Kader. Those bastards made it personal for them too.

“You just be pretty and stay quiet” I move the mug close to my lips to drink. “Although the last part might be hard for you”

“I’ll show you, you little minx” Jaskier passionately mutters between grit teeth. Then he whispers something in my ear, something that causes me to blush violently and choke on my beverage. The bastard sniggers when I start coughing.

“I don’t want to know” Geralt lets his eyes wander, finding interest in anything other than us. “Stop that already”

Even as he pats my back to aid me in my recovery from choking on the ale, Jaskier smirks.

“I…” My attempt to regain my composure fails, and I have to wait several more seconds until my voice obeys my command. “If you will excuse me, I’m off to take a bath”

I stand up without waiting for any responses. In any case, I have a faint idea of what Jaskier’s might be. And I prefer he doesn’t say it in front of Geralt.

I absently dry my hair with the towel, letting my thoughts wander. I’m not focusing on anything in particular, but I still get slightly startled when the door opens behind me.

“Hey, Jas” I smile at him when he languidly comes in.

“Hello, my love” There is a mischievous grin plastered in his lips.

“What is it?” I stop the motion of my hands, leaving my wet hair to dry on its own. As he advances towards me, his expression only intensifies. “Do you have mischief on your mind?”

Jaskier approaches me, and now his smirk acquires a mysterious glow. I wish I was psychic like Hana always said. That way I could read his mind right this moment.

“Not exactly” He ceremoniously takes the towel from my hands and carelessly tosses it over his shoulder.

“What are you doing?” I observe him under the dim light filtering through the window to my right. Only the little sunlight left, as it turns to night, illuminates his features.

Jaskier now smiles sweetly, as though the light wasn’t making his profile attractive enough.

“Nothing, I just missed you” He shrugs a bit, but I’m not quite buying his innocent act.

Indeed, he puts his arms around me and brings me close. I rest my hands on his chest, ready to push him back if he gets cocky, which he might. We remain silent while we stare into each other’s eyes.

“I only took a bath” I scoff, playfully wrinkling my nose at him. “We saw each other no more than ten minutes ago, you-“

His lips interrupt me when they hungrily seek mine. My eyes close on their own. I lose the ability to breathe. My body automatically responds to the kiss, deepening it as he does. It brings me back to that moment outside the crypt, making it harder to ignore my desire for much longer. My hands fly to his nape, bringing him impossibly close to me. His hands against the small of my back do too, even if there is no space at all between our bodies. Our mouths dance in sync, drinking from each other’s essence. I feel so connected to him that I almost think our hearts are synchronized as well. Jaskier is breathless, and he begrudgingly leaves my mouth for oxygen. I take a deep breath myself, feeling my heart racing and my breathing erratic. But he doesn’t stop there. He quickly goes for my neck. He seems to have special fondness for that spot. When the butterflies appear in my stomach, my brain gives an alarm. I’m enjoying Jaskier’s lips on my neck, perhaps a little too much, which is why I nervously push him away. He gawks at me, his mouth still frozen in the position for a kiss.

“What’s the matter, Nissa?” He asks, showcasing that puppy look in his beautiful blue eyes.

“You sneaky little shit…” I chuckle in awe, understanding what his intentions were. Especially when I have to take a second to calm down, and his red cheeks tell the same tale.

“What do you mean, love?” The bard still looks innocently at me, so I give him a soft glare.

“You know exactly what I mean”

“You don’t… you don’t want to do that?”

He has turned more serious, noticing my hesitance. I sigh, conflicted about my own emotions. There are many reasons why I am unsure.

Firstly, what awaits us tomorrow feels too important to focus on anything else. I fear that, if we were to trespass that threshold, it would be more due to the fear of losing our chance than because we desire to do it. We know the dangers that lay at the outskirts.

Secondly, the matter is more personal than just the possibility of meeting an early end. It had been so long since last time. Thinking about that moment also brings Vizima to mind. It reminds me how much has occurred since I last was this intimate with someone, how love and sex had completely left my mind when more important things, like grief or loss, occupied my thoughts and my soul.

Jaskier’s hands, which had been firmly settled on my hips, leave me completely. The absence of his touch makes me feel cold and empty. I shiver, unsure if because of the low room temperature or the conflict within me.

“We don’t…” He scrunches his face in a carefree gesture. “We don’t have to do it if you don’t want to, I…”

My finger goes to rest against his lips, efficiently silencing him. We stare at each other for a moment. His eyebrows arch in surprise and anticipation.

“It’s not that…” My hands slid down his neck and over his shoulders. This encourages him to rest his on my back, returning to that warm touch. “I just don’t want that to be the only thing between us now. I don’t want our relationship to be only that”

“Nis…” The nickname warns me of a light-hearted response. He adorably tilts his head as well, staring at me fondly. “You know I don’t want just that either. I fell for you, all of you. Not just what you can give me”

“Well, I-“

“I wasn’t finished!”

“Go on then, silly”

“Do you want to know when I knew I was inevitably in love with you?”

“When?”

“Back when you so wittily verbally retaliated against me for calling you a delicate flower”

“Jaskier... that’s the day after we met”

“Precisely”

“And you waited all this time to court me”

“I wasn’t waiting, I continuously tried to-“

“No, you didn’t! How was I to know your endless and obvious adoration was genuine?”

We both laugh when I begrudgingly take most of the blame. Only most of it.

“I’ll tell you how. I promise you something, Nissa… your heart is safe with me”

“I…” His earnest emotional response surprises me for a moment. “I bet you tell that to everyone”

Jaskier grins in amusement to my teasing. His pretty eyes twinkle as he watches me fondly. It only fuels my desire to taunt him, so I peck his lips and retreat immediately after. He groans in quite a needy whine.

Delicate flower… I smirk to myself at the thought that I proved him wrong. And I proved him right. Perhaps I can be a delicate flower, but as he once said, roses are flowers with thorns.

“H-Hang on… Jaskier…” I gasp when I am hit with realization. “That day… Delicate Flower… That song…”

Jaskier grins. Even that gesture is breathtaking. He arches his eyebrows and vehemently nods his head. For a moment, watching his smug grin, I forget what we were talking about.

“Thank you for noticing, love” He playfully kisses me on the nose. “It took you a bit”

“Is that why it took you so long to write it?” It is my turn to smirk, and he blushes a tad.

Jaskier doesn’t reply. In fact, his eyes look anywhere but me. I laugh and slap his shoulder.

“What’s the matter, Jas?” I teasingly say, squeezing his arm. “You seem flustered”

Jaskier now stares into my eyes. His gaze is piercing, intense. When he opens his mouth to reply, his tone is hushed and tender.

“How to express what my heart yearned to say? There was no way to show how I feel about you. Even now that the song is finished… it doesn’t quite explain all these wonderful things you make me feel”

The tables are turned when I am now flustered myself. His sweet smile, reinforcing his genuine words, only makes matters worse. Nonetheless, I tilt my chin up and recover.

“If you’re so smitten, then explain that entrance, you cheeky bard” I try to hide my nervousness by teasing him, poking his shoulder. “Did you harbor pure thoughts then?”

“I will admit” He smirks, responding to my provocation. Nonetheless, his hand gives my waist a comforting squeeze. “I had only one thing in mind, but… you were in the bath”

“You… ugh” When I feel myself turning several shades redder, I plop my forehead against his chest. Jaskier chuckles, delicately tangling his fingers in my wet hair.

“Fine, you perv-” As soon as we are face to face again, he lifts one finger and leans it against my lips. His soft expression shocks me. It is softer than I have seen in a while.

“Do you want to?” He insists, slowly retracting his finger so I can speak.

“I do”

“Great”

“But!” I hold my hand up, causing him to arch his eyebrows in expectation. “You better treat me right still after, Jas, or I will-“

He interrupts my flimsy joking threat with a kiss, showcasing the sweetest of touches yet. My eyes flutter closed and I happily shiver. I hang on to him, pressing myself against his chest as close as I can. Our lips meet again and again with feather light pressure. Delicately.

Jaskier slowly breaks away, and I open my eyes to look at him.

“I love you, Nissa” He suddenly says. I gawk at Jaskier, as he said it so confidently. There are no doubts in his mind whatsoever that what he says is true, that his feelings are real and strong. I have the conviction that so are mine.

Unaware that I have been holding my breath, I let it out. His brows knit in concern, though I smile reassuringly. A timid grin grows on his lips as well.

“And I love you too, my stupid bard” I say in return, caressing his face. Saying those words feels right. Voicing those feelings is freeing, cathartic. It finally feels as though I have confessed what gnawed at me for far too long.

Jaskier sighs with a mixture of relief and glee. A bright smile grows on his mouth. He leans in, and just as his lips are brushing against mine, I halt. The moment somehow feels familiar. He stares at me in awe.

“Why does it feel like I have said it before?”

“Because…” Jaskier pauses for a brief moment, showcasing a smug smirk. “You said it before”

“Oh, no… that day... I forgot about it…” I hide in his chest in embarrassment. He kisses my hair, even if the bastard is laughing as his lips linger on my head.

“You didn’t believe me” Jaskier says to further tease me. “And you started sobbing”

I chuckle in spite of myself, and shiver when he returns to kiss me. My breath shakes in my chest as he busies his mouth with my neck.

“I'm glad..." I can hardly speak as the butterflies intensify and spread the heat of passion within me. "That my embarrassment is amusing to you”

As soon as I lock eyes with him, we both laugh together. Jaskier then wiggles his eyebrows at me. A mischievous laugh is all warning I get before he kisses me on the lips again. I just melt right into it, into his arms. Against his mouth. I even find myself giggling as we both stumble in our passionate stupor and fall together onto the bed.

Tag list: @x-joie-x / @x-jodi-x / @dancingwith-thesunflowers / @golden-guide / @alwayshave-faith / @this-is-whump-dammit / @legallyblindgamer727 / @lilyevans1 / @kingniazx / @molethemollie / @a-somehow-functioning-dumbass // Let me know if you want to be added to the tag list to be notified when I post next chapter!!

#please reblog!!#jaskier x oc #jaskier x reader #soul of a warrior #soaw #witcher #witcher fanfiction #the witcher #the witcher fanfiction #geralt of rivia #geralt #jaskier #oc #original character

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darkestangel1326 · 5 years ago

Text

Prologue - This was real life. Right?

Hey lovelies. So I know it is likely no one is going to read this but me but I just had to write this anyway. For me. Posting for the same reason! Fic under the “Keep reading” cut, but here’s how I got here:

This all started when I wondered what would happen if MC was a scientist. Or a science grad student. But then I thought, what would be enough to compel a scientist or science grad student to stop their sciencing realistically for any amount of time? Because as my previous PI says, every scientist becomes a mad scientist at least in one point in their careers for their research - this is especially true for grad students.

Then, I just never understood the whole returning a phone excuse Unknown gave MC to lure her into Rika’s apartment. Like MC, with her own phone, is gonna return a phone she doesn’t even have, just because Unknown was persistent? He even says he’s a student in the States who will eventually return home so what was with the urgency to go to find the owner? If he really wanted to return the phone, he could’ve mailed it since he has the address right? We know he does because he sends MC there. It just always bothered me.

Finally, I wanted to slightly self-insert to make the MC (Emme C.) a bit more human so that it even if you couldn’t change her choices, it would still be entertaining. I heavily relied on second person, to help give it the mystic messenger vibe though I’m not sure it works.

This prologue is some character building for Emme C. (Actual name: Emme Cee), brief OC appearances and, for my sanity, this is all taking place in the US. TBH I’m not even sure how deep I want to go with this story. I just know I needed to write it.

So without further ado!

“My biggest fear and why? Hmmm,” you mulled it over and took another sip of your beer, after your lab mates glared at you for an answer.

Or former labmates - you were leaving for grad school in a few weeks so this was kind of your farewell social. Even with your general distaste of beer, even you had to admit this one was really good.

You closed your eyes and sheepishly rubbed your neck. “This is gonna sound weird but a time loop,” you answered hesitantly. “It just makes me uneasy to be stuck in never-ending cycle, replaying the same scenario over and over again with no end in sight.”

“True but we are in academic research!” Marie answered, a teasing lilt to her voice that transformed into a chuckle.

“Yeah you might have to deal with it during your Masters program, especially the thesis stage.” Whitney continued, joining in with a laugh.

“Don’t remind me,” you giggled as you took another sip - a longer sip - of your beer. “But that’s not exactly what I mean either” you persisted, a bit more seriously.

I’m afraid of replaying the same day, the same events, the same interactions over and over again, not knowing why or how to stop it,” you finished more seriously. You took another sip of the fizzy drink and felt your equilibrium teeter a bit.

“You mean like that movie Groundhog Day?” Aurora quietly inserted.

“I haven’t seen that movie but if it’s like what I said, then yes, that’s it,” you answered, your fizzy drink now gone.

“Sorry wait. Why are you afraid of time loops? I think I missed that part. Wouldn’t replaying the same day and seeing how your choices change events be a good thing?” Sally asked. Technically, she was completely right - repeatability was one of the sacred ideals of science after all. Plus, If you really thought about it, you hadn’t actually said why you’re afraid of time loops, just that you are.

“I’m afraid of never moving forward - of never progressing, no matter how hard I try or work. A time loop means, yes, I’ll know what my choices would entail, but not how to escape or what the triggering event for my release could be. I could replay the time period of the same few weeks but for years without knowing how to escape and move on. And, I guess, since it took me so long to even start my Master’s and I felt like I might never be able to, this fear was just born,” you admitted, pouring more beer for yourself.

I mean an actual time loop where every single thing happens the exact same way, down to the underlying rhythm of conversation. And where you can’t escape until you figure out the common problem then fix it. How would you escape it? And what if you mess up, in different ways, forever? Who would want that?!

—————————————————————————

You awoke with a sigh, realizing you had that dream again. Or was it a flashback since this happened a few weeks ago? You shrugged your shoulders and got to work sorting boxes. You were set to start on-campus work in a few weeks so you were just trying to do the bare minimum research wise. Plus, you wanted to really focus on decorating your new apartment and get acquainted with the town since you’d be living there for the next few years.

After a few hours of scrambling and organizing, you sat on the floor (you were still in the process of buying furniture), and looked at your emails.

One in particular caught your attention, so much so that you took off your glasses and rubbed your eyes, almost laughing at such a cartoony response. The subject line of this email was what confused you. It read “missing research paper - need citation”. It was an unfamiliar email, moreover, it was sent to your previous college email, which was linked to your past research publications.

Curious, you bit the inside of your cheek and read the email.

“Dear Emme,

Hope this email finds you well. I am a student from XXX University and have been working on a research project concerning XXX. Your research was one of the most recent and prominent examples as to why this area needs further study, however, I have not been able to access the paper I saved as a bookmark in my web browser. After extensive searching, I have been unable to find the original paper or even one of the articles that referenced it - almost as if the article has completely disappeared from existence! Is there a reason the research article is gone? If not, could you provide me with an idea of where it is and the proper citation for my research article?”

what. whAT. WHAT!?

Your research couldn’t be gone! This didn’t make any sense! Yes it was a few years old, but it couldn’t be gone from the web! There are research papers from the 1960s that are archived and accessible online for goodness sake!

You had to calm down. Take deep breaths. You continued trying to breathe as you pulled out your research flash drive. You looked for the paper on your there and found it, sighing in relief. It grounded you, reminding you that your work did exist. Just as you were set to attach the file and corresponding citation to the email, your internet stopped.

Scratch that, your entire laptop stopped.

You groaned. Yes, this was an older, refurbished model, but it’s been working fine. The screen distorted for a second, as if the extra pixel boxes emphasized the frozen nature of your screen. Before you even had time to process it, your laptop unfroze and you breathed a sigh of relief.

Thank heavens. You had just moved and weren’t sure you could realistically afford a new laptop anytime soon. As you look over your screen, however, your relief shifts to panic.

omg. oMG. OMG!

It’s gone. Your research files. The ones on your laptop and on your flash drive. The email is gone. Before you can refresh the page you get logged out. You can’t even log into your old email account - Error 404 Not Found.

Your heart races. Then, it aches. You worked so hard on those projects. They were part of your scientific fabric and now both were just gone. Your years of work, gone in seconds.

You felt like crying. But you decide not to, at least not until you’re in the shower where the tears can blend in with the cascading liquid as you sing emo music.

For now, you decide a quick walk and some fresh air are what you need, so you grab your keys and head for the mailbox. You’ve only lived in this apartment for a week but you check the mail constantly in an effort to get in the habit rather than because you expect something.

But today, you did get something. A small parcel with no return address. Curious, you take that and the grocery flyers to your apartment and open the package there.

A phone? It’s from the same company as yours, just a slightly older model.

You blink at it, almost telepathically asking it what it’s doing in your mailbox. You decide to turn it in to the mail service and are about to put it back in its envelope when you notice a note.

“Charge me”

“What the hell is going on today?” You mutter as you pull out your charger and plug it into the phone.

You sit on the floor with this new phone in hand and sigh. “Why am I even taking orders from a mysterious note for anyway?”

Just then the screen lights up. There’s no passcode so opening the phone was super easy. The phone’s screen and minimal app selection almost made you think it was new, but the lack of setting it up told you that wasn’t the case. Who would buy this phone and not use it? And why did they send it to you?

There is one app that calls to you, mostly because you’ve never seen it before. And because it was unlike the rest of the default apps on the screen.

RFA? What’s that?

Just then, the screen turns dark and green characters zoom up through the screen. You sucked with all tech but even you knew this reaction was abnormal. You swore you didn’t press the app but seeing the phone continue reacting, you become less confident.

“Hello?”

You stare at the screen. ‘Unknown’ was messaging you.

You respond. Stupidly. Naively. And without thinking about the consequences.

Because this was real life. Right?

What’s the worse that could happen?

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I’m debating taking this next part a few routes...we’ll see what I decide...

If you, by any chance made it all the way down here, can you drop a reblog or something with your thoughts? Was Emme Cee likable? Did the flow make sense? Do you like where this is going? Let me know!

#mystic messenger #mysme #mysme fic prologue #DA writes #This was Real Life. Right?

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justauthoring · 6 years ago

Text

In Denial [C.S.]

Request: How about one with Christofer schistad trying to gain readers interest in school all the time, flirty af 😂 and like some of the skam girls try to push them together so they have an in to the penetrators parties 😂❤️ the like “I don’t like you...but yeah I do”. Do I make any sense? Hehe never requested before 😊

Please don’t plagiarize my work!

Word Count: 1,588

“He doesn’t like me.”

The girls pause, as if questioning if you’d really just said that, before they all, simultaneously, burst out in laughter.

You only blink at them in response, brows furrowing. “What?”

Placing a hand against her lips, Noora shakes her head; “sorry, sorry,” she calls, still unable to hide her laughter as it bleeds into her words. Her eyes are scrunch up in absolute amusement as she sets her hand on Sana’s shoulder. “It’s just, are you really that oblivious?”

Once again you find yourself speechless, staring back at them with furrowed brows.

The girls glance at each other, and only pausing a moment, Sana leans forward, setting her hand on the table. “You really think he doesn’t like you?”

Shrugging your shoulders, you nod. “Well, yeah.”

“But all he does is flirt with you,” Chris reminds, raising an arch brow over at you. “Like consistently.”

“He flirts with everyone,” you dismiss, shaking your head as you close your locker. “I mean, he’s a fuckboy. He’ll flirt with anyone that even looks at him.”

“No, no,” Eva argues, shaking her head as she wags her pointer finger at you. “But it’s different with you.”

Squinting your eyes, you pause in thought. “How so?”

“Well, for starters,” Vilde starts, shifting in her seat slightly as she straightens out. As per usual, there’s a bright smile on her lips, her bubbling personality shining through as she raises a finger to start naming off her examples. “He looks at you every time you’re near him, when he thinks you aren’t looking.”

“Which you usually aren’t,” Noora adds to which Vilde nods.

“And,” Vilde continues, “he’s always making excuses to be near you. He texts you like twenty-four-seven. And I haven’t seen him flirt with another girl since the two of you started getting close.”

You purse your lips in thought, thinking back to previous times that fit with Vilde’s examples. You hate it, because you don’t wanna get your hopes up, but she’s kind of right. Things have been different with him ever since he started talking to you, you’d just refused to notice it or believe it because you didn’t wanna get your heart broken. He was, after all, a fuckboy and you didn’t need your heart broken, let alone by him.

“Oh!” Eva exclaims, pulling your eyes on her as she turns to you with a grin. “And he practically fucks you with his eyes.”

‘Okay...” You say slowly, leaning back in your seat. “Then maybe that’s all he wants. To get in my pants.”

Noora shakes her head, “no, no, it’s different with you. I know it’s different.”

“Guys, it’s--”

“What’s not different?”

A gasp of surprise leaves your lips as a pair of arms wrap around your waist. Instantly, all chatter falls silent as you turn your head over your shoulder, meeting none other than Chris’, the boy the girls have been trying to convince you is in love with you, eyes. Your cheeks instantly flame red at the intimate position the two of you are in, trying to ignore the racing of your heart.

“Uh,” you begin, stammering slightly. “Nothing, nothing.”

Chris’ eyes narrow slightly in question, and he turns to the other girls who only shrug in response. Deciding to just leave it, Chris pushes it aside, meeting your eyes as a smirk falls on his lips. “Me and the boys are having a party at William’s tonight, you should come.”

It takes you a minute to realize he’s just speaking to you; “can I bring the girls?” You question, gesturing over to your friends.

Chris nods, “of course.”

“Then,” Vilde speaks up, pulling eyes on her as she grins brightly. “We’ll be coming.”

Keeping his eyes on you, Chris raises a brow; “yeah?”

Biting your lip, you nod slowly. “Yeah.”

“Awesome,” he grins, pulling his arms away from you, but not without letting them wander and drift for a little bit longer than appropriate. He’s stepping back quicker then you realize you want him to, and your eyes never leave his form until he’s disappeared from your view.

“Doesn’t like you, my ass.”

Turning to the girls, you roll your eyes.

“You say he doesn’t like you,” Sana grins, raising a knowing brow which causes your cheeks to warm slightly. “But i’ll change your mind tonight.”

“Oh, come on! He did not!”

“I kid you not,” Eva laughs, throwing her head back, “he ran out the moment I took my shirt off.”

“Were you not upset?” Vilde asks, a frown on her lips. Her comment causes yours, Eva’s and Noora’s laugh to die out somewhat. Actually, you hadn’t really thought of that possibility. You’d probably be a little wounded if the guy you were trying to have sex with all of a sudden ran out of the room.

Eva shrugs, tipping her head back as she takes a large sip from her drink. “Not really,” she says simply, “it’s his lost.”

“That’s the way to look at it,” you grin, high-fiving Eva with a laugh.

Slowly, the laughter dies, and as you dip your own head back to take a drink, you’re suddenly elbowed in the chest by Noora. It causes you to nearly choke on your drink, pulling your cup back as you said her a nasty glare, questioning her with your eyes. She simply just nods her head past you, causing you to turn your head to right right. Your eyes widen when you’ve seen what she has.

“Hey guys,” Sana grins, mischief in her eyes. “Look at who I brought.”

You can’t really seem to focus on her however, and rather Chris, who’s stood next to her, grinning. His eyes seem to only be focused on yours as well.

“Hey!”

“He was actually looking for you, Y/N,” Sana explains, eyes falling on you.

You blink up at Chris in surprise; “you were?”

“Yeah,” he nods, shuffling over to where you’re sat before extending his hand out towards you. “I was wondering if we could talk.”

You glance back at the girls nervously, who all just nod their head in encouragement, before letting your hand slip into Chris’, allowing him to pull you up to his feet. He begins pulling you through the crowd with another word, and before you know it, you’re upstairs and away from the chaos, heading into what you can only assume is William’s room

And as Chris shuts the door behind you, you let your eyes wander around, your nerves getting the best of you as you swallow thickly.

Then, Chris’ hand is on your shoulder, gently pulling you towards him until he’s tugging you closer by the waist. You let him, leaning into his touch as your hands tentatively moving to his shoulders, biting your bottom lip. As Chris’ eyes slowly flicker upwards to meet your own, his left hand making it’s way up your neck to your cheek, cupping it, you realize somewhere along the way that this is it. You two are finally alone and it seems like Chris is done waiting.

And you’re right. Because before you know it, his lips are pressed against your own, and you’re reciprocating. It feels like you’ve been waiting for Chris to kiss you forever.

You let your lips part, letting his tongue sliding in as his hand moves to cup the back of your head.

Somewhere along the way, you snap out of your stupor. Sure, you’ve wanted to kiss Chris for a long time, but you didn’t just care about the sex. You’d reluctantly fallen for the boy and if this was truly all he wanted, you needed to get away before you got your heart broken.

So you pull back, and despite his confusion, Chris lets you, eyes slowly fluttering open to glance down at you.

Avoiding his gaze, you lower it to the ground. “I guess you didn’t really wanna talk, huh?”

You’re met with silence, and fear floods you, thinking that that was it. You’d made your intentions clear and it was obvious Chris didn’t want to say the same thing. So, knowing there’s nothing more to be said, you move to step back. However, you don’t make it very far before Chris’ hand is on your wrist, halting your movements.

“Wait,” he calls, “you don’t think...?”

Meeting his eyes, you frown. “What am I supposed to think?” You question with a shake of your head. “You said you wanted to talk, but the first thing you do is shove your tongue down my throat.”

Lips parting, Chris’ eyes widen. “I do wanna talk.”

“I’m sure.”

“No, listen, Y/N,” Chris calls urgently, tugging you towards him. “I... I got ahead of myself. I don’t... I don’t just want you for sex.”

Blinking, your jaw clenches at you glance up at him.

“Maybe at first I did, yeah,” he nods with a shrug. “But... But it’s different now. I can’t explain it, I don’t know how to explain it, but I didn’t just bring you in here to sleep with you and then leave you. I want to be with you.”

You bite your lip, eyes squinting in thought. “How can I know?”

“Because,” Chris begins, cupping both of your cheeks. “If you left here and nothing happened, I would stop coming running to you tomorrow. I want something more, Y/N.”

You meet his gaze steadily, licking your bottom lip. “Okay,” you say finally.

Chris’ eyes flood with hope, “okay?”

Smiling, you nod. “Okay, let’s do this.”

Let me know what you thought? Remember, reblogging always helps!

Requests are open!

#skam #skam imagine #skam norway #christoffer schistad #christoffer schistad imagine #christoffer schistad x reader #chris schistad #chris schistad imagine #herman tommeraas #imagine #imagines

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remnantoforario · 6 years ago

Text

RWBY Manga Chapter 3

So here we go with chapter 3 of my RWBY manga analysis. Check out the last two chapters Here and Here.

As stated before this is not a page by page review, more of a comparison of this and the original source material. Thanks to every one who has liked and/or reblogged the last two parts.

So Chapter 3 opens with Yang and Blake having already established their pair and fighting Grimm.

I really like this shot in the first panel, it’s very indicative of Yang’s character early in the series. Girl is battle hungry with a devil may care attitude. She’s happy as long as she can have a good fight. Blake’s comment is also good, as is Yang’s response. Sets up the dynamic well enough.

As Pyrrha explains the concept of Aura to Jaune (in some very well illustrated scenes that give Aura a much more spiritual lean than established), we finally come across the problem with the manga that I have been eluding to in the last two parts: the fight scenes.

Now I know that this has always been a thing in manga. It’s nigh impossible to give a complete flow of fight scenes in the medium (unless you’re say, Akira Toriyama or someone of that caliber). Normally this isn’t a problem since pretty much most, if not all, action-oriented anime start as manga; so really when they get adapted into anime it just enhances the material and makes the fights more memorable.

Black Clover is a perfect example of this. I’ve been told by numerous people that the series is best consumed if you read the manga for the story, but watch the anime for the fight scenes.

That’s a good way to approach it, but RWBY is a completely different animal compared to most franchises in the genre (I don’t really consider RWBY anime, but its kind of marketed as such and has a following in Japan so yeah). Not only are they flattening what was originally a computer generated series onto a 2D surface, they are actively condensing what was (at one time) the series’ main draw, the aforementioned fight scenes.

Might get a little controversial here so bear with me. It is no secret that the late Monty Oum was a savant when it came to using Poser. The things he could do with the platform were amazing (as series like Dead Fantasy, Haloid, Red vs. Blue, and even the first trailers of RWBY showed).

However, Monty, for all his mastery at fight choreography, was never the greatest story teller. I believe he admitted to that before. As much shit as people give Miles and Kerry about the current writing of the show (including me on several occasions), they were there from the beginning. it was always a three man team. Miles, Kerry, and Monty all wrote the show together.

Even diehard RWBY fans will tell you that the writing in those first two and a half volumes was never really that strong.

Plot points would be picked up then unceremoniously dropped, characters were inconsistent in both their personalities and motivations (Blake was a huge victim of this), and the overall narrative wasn’t really all that engaging.

However, many people forgave these glaring flaws because of Monty’s fight scenes. Before I got into the series, a common criticism I heard of RWBY was “The story isn’t all that great, but the fight scenes are amazing.” And that’s true. In the first two and a half volumes of RWBY (before Monty passed) a lot of the “story” was really just padding until we got to the next fight scene. This worked well when the episodes were 6-15 minutes long because a majority of the run time could be used for those glorious battles that kept people coming back. Including me.

Two of my favorite fights are still Neo v. Yang from Volume 2 and Blake and Sun v. Torchwick from Volume 1

Though as the series grew in popularity, it could no longer solely rely on the fights to keep things going (especially after the noticeable dip in quality that occurred shortly after Monty passed) it needed to focus more on its story.

I say all that to say: the RWBY manga’s more stilted fight scenes are not only its biggest weakness, but also its greatest strength. Without the crutch of cool fights to fall back on, Bunta Kinami is forced to focus the manga around how the characters act instead of how well they fight.

This shift in focus is once again highlighted when we catch up with Weiss and Ruby:

Even though they decided to become a pair last chapter, they are still at odds. Which makes perfect sense. They are together because of necessity (the need to pass the trial and stay alive), not because they want to be. This is present in the show, but the manga makes a stronger case for it because of how they are written as opposites. Ruby is trying, but Weiss is fighting her every step of the way because of her arc to be perfect (as told in Part 2 of the analysis). Neither like the situation, but only one of them (Ruby) is willing to try and make it work. It’s a constant push and pull.

Blake and Yang reach the shrine, and this is where we first meet Ren and Nora.

Not really much to say here. Ren and Nora are side characters so its fine that we don’t meet them until later, also having their first scene be the one where Nora rides in on the Ursa gives us a better look at her character, as well as her relationship with Ren.

Ruby and Weiss hitch a ride on the Nevermore like in the original and crash into Pyrrha and Jaune as they are attacked by the Death Stalker. Only real change here is that Jaune doesn’t catch Weiss and Pyrrha is with them all instead of just being knocked to the ground.

With everyone in one place, we finally come to the climax of the initiation, the fights with the Death Stalker and Nevermore.

I want to give a shout out to Kinami for his Grimm designs. They look much more menacing here with the added details. Makes them look more undead than before.

The end of the chapter is a bit more brisk than the show, but it fits for this story. Ruby tries to attack the Death Stalker, and it goes about as well as you’d expect.

In a reversal of the previous chapter, Weiss saves Ruby.

This was the same as the source material, but in the manga I believe it works better because the character writing is much more consistent, which leads to a more badass save and moment for Weiss.

The moment is earned here as opposed to the show where it kind of just happens apropos of nothing. It shows that Weiss is also starting to grow in her own way parallel to Ruby, but not quite the same. It’s a compromise, not an acceptance.

So that’s it for chapter 3. Things are continuing to escalate and the next two chapters deal with the fight with the Grimm. See you then.

#RWBY #manga #Shonen Jump #bunta kinami #Ruby Rose #Weiss Schnee #yang xiao long #Blake Belladonna #Pyrrha Nikos #Jaune Arc #Lie Ren #nora valkyrie #JNPR #Monty Oum

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ok-anon · 6 years ago

Text

How Did It End Up Like This? (”Mr. Brightside” Roger Taylor x Reader) Final Chapter

PLEASE REBLOG AND LEAVE COMMENTS, YOU HAVE NO IDEA HOW MUCH IT HELPS. ALSO REQUEST BOX IS OPEN

a/n: I’M SO SORRY FOR BEING ABSENT FOR SO LONG. ALSO I FEEL LIKE THIS ENDING IS TRASH, I JUST DIDN’T PLAN ON THIS BEING SUPER LONG. I AM THINKING ABOUT WRITING OTHER STUFF (maybe a joe/deaky piece) AFTER THIS, LEMME KNOW WHAT Y’ALL THINK.

this is a submission for @yourealegendfred ‘s 3k songfic challenge (congrats love, you fricken deserve it) and i’ve worked for a bit on it. even if you’re not a Queen/Bohrap fan, maybe give it a shot? this fic could be for both universes. also THIS IS A SERIES and if y’all like it, let me know so I can continue it! thank you all so much, i love you all

pairing: roger taylor x reader

word count: 1.5k

Fuck who ever was banging on his door at this hour. They were seconds away from getting a drumstick jammed up their backside. Roger’s head throbbed as he pulled himself into a sitting position. Bleary eyes landed on the naked figure curled on the other side of his bed, and he scowled. One night stands never felt like a good idea in the morning. Tossing his legs over the edge of the mattress, he pulled on his abandoned briefs to regain his modesty before shuffling to the relentless pounding.

“Fuckin’ heard you the first time mate…” he groaned as he yanked the door open, only to feel his insides twist.

There she stood, in her familiar professional wear and she looked breathtaking. Drinking in her appearance was halted instantly when Roger locked eyes with her fearful gaze. He then noticed the photos in her hands. They were pictures from last night, and the smirk that crossed his lips made her expression go aghast. But he couldn’t help it. They were delicious. Her wanton body moulded completely against his own as he gripped her like she was about to be tugged away. His grin left instantly when she shoved the thin film forcefully against his chest.

“What the hell do we do about this?” His hand clasped over hers that was pressing the offensive images against his skin.

“I’m sure I don’t know what you mean.” His morning voice scratched his raw throat and he ached for a cup of tea in bed...preferably with her snuggled up beside him. But not right now, not when she was cross with him.

“John Reid...your manager, ran these by me this morning. Some prick took them last night and is threatening to release them to the press.”

Roger wondered if it was incredibly rude that none of the words she was saying meant shit to him, because he was much more preoccupied with admiring the way her eyelashes fluttered as she blinked. His distraction was interrupted as she brushed past him into his room, her voice lessening in strength.

“He’s demanding a fuck ton of money, Taylor. And he’ll probably hold on to the negatives, sell them after we’ve settled…all over a stupid...kiss...” Her eyes trained on the moving form tangled in sheets across the room as she trailed off. The oblivious third party slowly pulled on her garment from the night before. Painful silence filled the air as a short dress was dragged up long tan legs. After slipping into towering stilettos, she effortlessly waltzed across the floor to place an open mouthed kiss to Roger’s grimacing face.

“Don’t be a stranger…” she cooed, shooting a glance of indifference towards the other female before exiting. The drummer’s heartbeat mimicked that of his instrument as tension deafened the room. He opened his mouth, preparing to charm his way out of the situation.

“Drop it.” The woman standing across from him locked their gaze with fierce intensity. “Listen, I know that you are perfectly fine with acting upon impulses not considering their consequences, but while you’ll forget about last night, I have a boyfriend...a career! And now I’ll just be known as another one of your one night stands.”

She gestured wildly towards the door which her example had just departed. She couldn’t continue to look at him partially out of disgust, but mainly out of the fear that she’d be met with the apathetic glare she had always seen Roger’s heartbroken girls receive. She had denied, no refused, her feelings for the drummer ever since he’d taken to giving her attention. She knew nothing good could come from falling in love with a rockstar who had a wandering eye. And although her job wasn’t under a strict contract, Reid banging on her hotel door that morning was evidence enough that fooling around was not acceptable. And protecting her heart. Dating Jonathan was safe. He was a promise of security and faithfulness, no matter how terribly dull he was. Roger was irresponsible. He was egotistical. He was temperamental...He was kissing her. When did he start kissing her?

She was so enraptured in her racing thoughts she wasn’t coherent to the blonde’s fingers wrapping firmly around her wrist. Her lack of resistance made it effortless to tug her flush against his warm chest. Like magnets, his mouth found hers in a kiss very different than their first.

They were sober, they were alone, and he had things to prove. That last night was something he was never going to forget. That her touch is the only one he ever wanted to feel. That he wanted to be stripping her dress off at the end of the night, not off some random fan. That nothing made him more sick to his stomach than imagining her being kissed, embraced, adored by some other man. And that he was so terribly sorry that it took his ardent jealousy to open his eyes.

That he wanted her.

His brows cinched tightly together as his palms flat against her back pressed her hopelessly closer. Her lips pulling away from his caused one of his hands to shoot up and clutch the side of her cheek, keeping her in place. Her breath washed over his chin in warm huffs as his eyelids trembled open. She still wasn’t looking at him, her gaze cast downward as she quietly drew in air.

“...’m sorry...” his faint hearted tone caught the photographer off guard as her eyes locked on his. Their shade of blue could teach the sky a thing or two she thought, now that she was able to admire them at proximity. The calloused pad of his thumb separated a small lock of hair framing her face, allowing it to wrap around his worn skin.

“I...Jonathan-”

“Don’t say his name. I don’t want you to say his name.” Roger’s grip tightened ever so slightly, as if only the mention of the other male would rip her from his arms. His tongue darted across his lips anxiously before his jaw clenched tightly. All he could do was let his gaze dance across her face, swearing that every pore of her skin reminded him of a paint stroke in a masterpiece. He cursed himself for never taking the time before to count the beauty marks that flecked across her features.

Why was this so hard?

He had millions of things he wanted to tell her, but none of the words crossing his mind were enough. He wanted her, obviously. In so many ways. But what could he offer for the most extraordinary woman. Someone who he foolishly never gave the time of day that she deserved. He wanted to promise her a relationship. With stability, faithfulness, and comfort. But as he stared into her eyes that held fire to mask vulnerability, it was obvious that was not who he was. Raw emotion mixed with a painful hangover made his voice discordant.

“I’m not enough for you...but I could try.”

He didn’t know what else to say but the truth. She was worth it. Trying. The shaky breath she released was difficult to interpret, as his celeste eyes frantically searched her face. What didn’t settle right in his stomach was when she turned her head, her forehead wrinkling in strife.

“Roger…”

“I’m a fuck up. I can’t control my jealousy, and seeing him...doing everything I’ve wanted to do...I was a prick. I just want you to always be by me. Taking your gorgeous pictures. Taking the piss with the lads. Distracting me from the wings.”

Now Roger couldn’t stop talking. He was desperate, words spilling out at lightning speed. His calloused hands reached out for her, gripping her upper arms tenderly. When she stiffened under his touch, he realized it was over. He’d lost her, and all he could do was admit defeat.

“But what I want isn’t what you deserve. You deserve a bloke who will ask you out on proper dates, not drunkenly snog you in a seedy club. You deserve more than that. University graduates. Pressed trousers. Steady job. Not some arse of a drummer who thinks knob instead of his head.”

He allowed his calloused digits to drag down her skin, memorizing how she felt as it would be one of the first and last times he could ever do so. As the tips danced over her wrists, he began to pull away knowing that his embrace was far from wanted. That’s why when her fingers reached forwards to intertwine with his, his grip was limp from shock. His gaze travelled from their touch meet her surprisingly affectionate stare.

“Maybe what I deserve isn’t what I want.”

His jaw slack, his bottom lip tucked between his teeth in a minute grin.

“You-”

“Did you really need to have a diva fit to realize that in my eyes no one will ever replace you?”

Her teasing jest was all it took for him to tug her tightly against his chest with his hands encasing the sides her of her face. Roger had one more thing to prove. It was that there would never be another man who would take her breath away like he could.

tagging previous reblogs/comments/asks:

@katiekitty261 @floralcyanide @axhillxs

@perriwiinkle @rogerinaismykillerqueen

@thealexandraway @2tits-johndeacon

@rogerinahardy1 @marvelxlena

@whatimreadingrnatm @rogerinahardy1

@bulsaratheopera @that-fandom-sucks-tho

@baebee35 @poachedhazontoast

@golddustghost @16wiishes

@princessskylarsblog @rogerfxckingtaylor

@strawberryfields-forever @mcrmarvelloki

@pancakefancake @thealexandraway

@rogerinamainbitch

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aethelar · 7 years ago

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I'll pay you for more fireman graves au, now i dont have money but i can in reblogs and tears

[reblogs and tears gratefully accepted, more fireman graves coming up. previous fireman graves is over here]

Thursday, went Graves’ strict instructions from Queenie. Three o’clock. Jacob’s.

On Thursday, at three o’clock, Graves went to Jacob’s. Bakery, not house. His hair was pushed back, his dark glasses were on, his shirt was sleeveless. He approached the bakery at a leisurely stroll.

“He’s going to walk past the window,” Queenie said to Tina in a sotto voice. “Where’s Newt sat?”

“The window,” Tina replied with the grim determination of a battle commander and dived for her phone.

Look up, she texted.

Over in the window, perched on the edge of a low armchair, Newt startled, kicked his shin against the coffee table in front him, and sent his phone flying across the floor.

“Wait, that’s Newt?” Queenie asked as the disaster in question dived under the table.

Tina buried her head in her hands. “That’s exactly him,” she confirmed despairingly. Newt progressed to hitting his head on the leg of the table and frantically scrabbling to right his mug before it spilled.

Graves and his arms sauntered past the window. It was, objectively, an excellent entrance, full marks for sexiness, extra points for running a hand through his hair as he went, stellar example of hotness all round.

Newt, phone in his mouth as he mopped up coffee with a fistful of paper napkins, completely failed to notice.

“It’ll be ok,” Queenie said optimistically. “They’ll sit down and talk and not set fire to anything and it’ll be fine.”

Newt finally read the text Tina sent and gave the pair of them a chirpy wave, twisting round in his seat as he did so and facing exactly the wrong way to see Graves coming in the door.

Tina raised a hand, more in surrender than any attempt to wave back. “You sweet summer child,” she said to Queenie.

“Oh, shush. They can’t be that bad.”

Tina would have replied, except at that point Graves spotted them - well, spotted Queenie - and hurried over.

“Am I late? Did I miss it? Are they here?” He slid into the chair facing them, throwing his sunglasses haphazardly on the table and stealing Queenie’s drink. “Queenie, this is tea.”

“Get your own, then,” Queenie said, stealing it back. “Newt’s at the table by the window.”

Graves craned to look. “I don’t see him.”

“Under the table by the window,” Tina corrected. “He’s probably got lost down there. You should go rescue him.”

“Uh…”

“Oh - Graves, this is Tina, my sister. Tina, Graves.” Introductions done, Queenie shooed Graves towards the counter. “Coffee, date, go.”

Graves mock saluted, mumbled a distracted nice to meet you at Tina, and obediently trotted over to the counter. In the time it took Jacob to pour his coffee and hand it to him, Newt managed to drop something down the side of his chair and get himself stuck hanging over the arm trying to reach it.

Coffee in hand, Graves returned from the counter, awkwardly turned sideways to squeeze between two other customers, and aimed once again for Queenie.

“Is he ok?” he asked in a hushed whisper, depositing his coffee on the table and shooting concerned glances at the upside-down back of Newt’s head. He shuffled his chair round for a better view, decided that was entirely unsubtle, and shuffled it back.

Tina and Queenie stared at him. “Probably not,” Tina finally said.

“Why don’t you go and help him?” Queenie suggested.

Graves gave them both a funny look. “He’s on a date,” he said, slowly, as though they were the ones blatantly not getting the point. “A date which you set him up on.”

“A date which is so far going swimmingly,” Tina said. “Look at him, alone, dating the shit out of himself. Wouldn’t it be nice if he had someone to share his date with. What a thing that would be. Such a novel idea.”

Graves frowned. Opened his mouth. Closed his mouth. Tried again. “I’m sure he’ll be here soon,” he said hesitantly. Queenie, your sister’s insane, he wanted to add, but he had neither the ninja-texting skills required to say it under the table nor the lack of self preservation required to say it out loud, so he kept it to himself.

Somewhere in the background the door chimed as someone pushed it open.

“He’ll be here soon?” Queenie asked. “Who’ll be here soon?”

“Theseus!” Newt greeted. Graves’ head whipped round.

“That bastard,” he growled, watching Theseus wave back and amble his way over to Newt. “He said he didn’t know who I was talking about!”

“He said what now,” Tina asked in the vaguely distracted way of someone watching a train wreck become inevitable.

“Theseus! He said he couldn’t think of anyone that he’d rescued recently and he didn’t have a clue about the date thing.” Graves waved an angrily expressive arm in Theseus’ vague direction. “Except he clearly recognises Newt which means he clearly knows who he rescued and, and - and romanced him when he rescued him.” He took a decisive slurp of coffee and glared. “Smooth motherfucker,” he grumbled. “Hasn’t even rolled his sleeves up.”

Tina and Queenie both just looked at him. Then at each other.

“Yours,” Tina said, pushing herself away from the table and heading up to the counter for a refill. And to commiserate with Jacob, who was pointing alternately at Newt and then at Graves and trying to indicate with the jerk of his head that Graves was at the wrong table.

Which he was. What Jacob expected either Goldstein to do about it, well, that was trickier.

“Graves,” Queenie started. “Graves, honey. Why is Theseus here.”

Graves frowned at her. “For the date. The one we set him up on. With Newt.”

“The one we - right. Yes. But why is Theseus here.”

Graves frowned harder and fished out his phone. “Thursday,” he said, showing Queenie the text she’d sent. “Three o’clock. Jacob’s.”

“Yes.”

“Your sister brought Newt.”

“She did.”

“And I brought Theseus.”

“Ok.” Queenie nodded. That was, indeed, a correct recounting of the facts. “But why.”

Graves threw his hands up in the air. “Because Newt’s in love with him, I don’t know. It was your text.”

Tina returned with two mugs of chocolate and Queenie gathered her forces and tried again. “Sweetie, you don’t recognise Newt at all?” she asked.

Graves obligingly squinted over at the window. Newt was sat with his back to them and saying something that required animated hand movements. Theseus had moved the coffee a safe distance away and was nodding along indulgently.

“No,” Graves decided. “But I’m out of contacts and the only glasses I could find were my sunglasses, so he’s kinda blurry. Should I recognise him?”

Queenie wordlessly fetched the sunglasses and handed them out to him. He made a face. “No one wears shades in a bakery. Even prescription ones. I can see fine.” To emphasise the point, he squirrelled them away in a pocket and beamed like he’d done the right thing.

“Tina,” Queenie asked faintly. “How do you cope?”

Tina solemnly passed over one of the mugs. “Marshmallows,” she said. “And Jacob put cinnamon in yours.”

“Cinnamon,” Queenie repeated. “How nice.”

There was a moment of shared silence as both sisters clutched their hot chocolates. Graves gave them an increasingly worried look.

“Everything ok?” he ventured hesitantly.

“Don’t you worry, sweetie,” Queenie told him and patted him on the hand. “Tomorrow’s another day. We’ll try again.”

Tina smiled encouragingly in the background. “Death before dishonour,” she added in a way that was probably meant to be comforting. Queenie nodded.

Graves stared at them both, glanced over at the counter where Jacob’s blurry figure had its arms crossed and was shaking its head in disappointment, and decided that the better part of valour was to just drink his coffee and not question.

Queenie’s sister was weird.

#gramander #percival graves #newt scamander #tina goldstein #queenie goldstein #jacob kowalski #theseus scamander #what #you didn't think it would be that simple #did you?#my writing #peptokotes #the fireman au

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dovesdanceatdusk · 6 years ago

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Long post reply ahead:

@dreamsfrozenincandyland-blo-blog, I had to give your response some thought because I could be riding the high of 14x08 like I did in season thirteen and I don’t want to do that. What I mean is, I enjoy the episode on first watch/premiere airing, only to be confused and disappointed if and when I rewatch.

I was upset Jack and Sam didn’t hug. I could chalk it up to Sam being less tactile than Dean, but then I remember all the times Sam hugged friends and family members in his inner circle the past three seasons and I’m left coming up short on that theory.

He watched Jack, his kid, die when Castiel and Dean walked out of the room. As painful as that was, I was happy Sam didn’t leave. I normally see symbolism when it’s not there, so forgive a young bird of doing so, but Sam sitting by Jack’s side and not leaving tells me Sam cared for Jack more than the scene let on. Sam didn’t leave, abandon, or write off Jack in season thirteen. He didn’t leave Jack when Jack was about to die. He stayed by his side, even if it killed him inside.

To me, Jared’s acting was pretty good, not subdued. [Reasons why, I saw how Sam tried to keep it together, how Sam held back tears when Jack and he talked right before Jack died. How Sam left Castiel and Dean after Jack died after Dean talked about making a pyre, abrupt, determined, and hurting. When Sam tried to chop down a tree to make a pyre, only to strike hard enough to break the ax.

I saw Sam’s sorrow when he told Dean he couldn’t even build a proper pyre for Jack. His determination to help Jack by agreeing to Lily’s deal--and the desperation to try when Dean didn’t think the deal was a good idea. His outburst when Lily retracted her end of the deal (”He’s our kid!”). Holding Jack and telling him to read the spell to activate the angel magic and save his life.]

I saw all of that--Sam’s grief, his helplessness, desperation, determination, relief, and elation. I mean, I could have ridden the live-blog high, too caught up in the feelings to register that maybe what I saw was more muted than I realize (hence why I dread rewatching sometimes). But that’s what I got from it. The subtleties in Jared’s acting, as well as the overtness, led me to believe Sam’s actions, feelings, and behavior last night felt real.

But then those thoughts led me back to your response again, and I thought some more. I thought of Dean’s reactions to Jack, including that hug, and yeah, I wanted that for Sam.

I could see Sam laugh with tears spilling out of his eyes, holding Jack tight after the spell was complete and Jack was saved. I could see Sam hitting the tree after he broke the ax, pounding the side of his fist on it and crying until he didn’t have the strength anymore; and after he would walk over to the Impala and sit by her tires lost and hurting because his boy died and he couldn’t do a flying fig about it. I could see Sam rest his head against the table’s surface in the library after the failed attempt to get Anubis to help Lily. He takes a deep breath, then we hear that shuddering exhale--I could see that too. I could see him shoving Dean a little after Dean tells him the deal is too sketchy to try--then again I couldn’t, not after watching the later seasons. Would that make me happier? Would those theoretical examples fill up the drying pool of want and Sam wishes from this old horse of a show? I don’t know. I would be more satisfied, yes.

Which brought me to my response to your first reply last night. In comparison to what I saw in previous episodes this season, 14x08 gave me more Sam feels and Sam and Jack feels. That was why I was satisfied. Not, “I’m over the moon, stop the online presses,” joy, but I’m glad I saw Sam’s grief instead of him burying it down deep into the abyss for others. How I saw it, what Sam did to bring Jack back was because of his grief, his frustration he couldn’t do anything for him before (I chalked ‘before’ up to Jack’s terminal illness). Sam made calls, got Lily Sunder to help because he was desperate to help Jack, to do something. Sam chopping a tree for Jack’s pyre, only to break the ax, was his desperation, his grief, his loss bleeding through. I remember reblogging a post last night pointing out the reason why Jack is alive was Sam, Lily, and Castiel. It was Sam who got the ball rolling. Sam reached out; he found Lily and came together with a plan. From there, Castiel, 100% on board, agreed to carry out a key piece to the plan: go to heaven, find Jack, and send Jack’s soul back to his body. Sam went to lengths to get Jack back, without having to make a crossroads deal.

There’s not a lot of Sam and Jack moments in season fourteen. When I do get them, somehow it gets nuked and destroyed in the next episode like it never happened (Looking at you, Bucket of Lemmings, and maybe the Singer-Dabb duo of questionable decisions). In comparison, season thirteen was the opposite. There were a lot of Sam and Jack moments, enough to warm my theoretical house. Only a handful of last season’s episodes had Sam and Jack more distant with each other.

That’s the problem I’m facing with season fourteen in regards to Sam and Jack’s relationship. For Sam and Jack positive people, all of those moments we saw in season thirteen, those moments that warmed our hearts--at least my heart if yours melted or burned the good burn--is barely even noticeable this season. There’s an imbalance. If the writing team played their cards right, the Dean and Jack bonding moments wouldn’t be so glaring if they included some Sam and Jack bonding moments. Anyone out there who believe the Dean and Jack bonding moments were okay is another sliver of pie that must be accounted for as well. So, perhaps a slower bonding progression, easing into the Dean and Jack bond instead of, “BAM, they’re thick as thieves. Dean is Jack’s other father and the rest is shredded grass.”

The progression would be more organic, but Dean and Jack’s relationship needed to happen quickly in order for the writers’ plans to come together. Dean needed to have a closer relationship with Jack in order for his actions and reactions in 14x07 and 14x08 to play out the way it did. That’s what I’m getting from it. I don’t like it, but that’s what I’m reading. Add in the fact you have a writing team that needs to not only work together but needs to work with the showrunner’s (showrunners’) vision. That’s a tough cucumber if you were a writer rallying Sam and Jack’s relationship.

I also read a discussion a few days ago pointing out side characters’ relationships with the brothers.

Analysis: missjackil(.)tumblr(.)com/post/180864904367/captainsteelandsunshine

The last comment of the thread gives a different perspective on the matter. I found it to be an interesting read, but your mileage may vary on the topic. I’m putting this here to widen the net a bit on this topic. Take away the parentheses before using the link.

I hope my response makes sense. You’re not wrong, and not alone on your thoughts on 14x08. On my dash, I saw some Sam and Jack positive viewers just as disappointed. My attitude toward the episode might change if I can get myself to rewatch. The downside is I don’t think what the show is doing is going to change. I could be wrong.

(What will sting is if the deleted scenes of the season were Sam and Jack moments. Boo.)

Note to anyone pointing out Jack and Castiel scenes: I’m only addressing Sam and Jack and Dean and Jack in this post.

#14x08 #thoughts #long reply #sam and jack #sam and grief #sam and loss #all grammar mistakes are mine #dean and jack (mentioned)#spn analysis #long post #spn s.14

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