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trans-girl-nausicaa · 1 year

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OAKBOUGH: A CHOOSE YOUR OWN ADVENTURE STORY.

CHAPTER 10.

Read the rest of the story:

LOCATION: SOMEWHERE IN CALIFORNIA

>Meet the hacker at their location. (50% CHANCE OF ARREST)

RESULT: YOU DON'T GET ARRESTED.

"I'll go," you say. "I want to meet this hacker myself. And this is... My cause, I guess, so if anyone's going to put themselves at risk, it should be me."

"I really appreciate that," says Paul. "Here, read this over while I make some arrangements." He hands you a piece of paper.

It's a printed dossier.

You read it.

POTENTIAL CIVILIAN ASSET: Bunny Paulson

RELEVANT SKILLS: Cybersecurity, Firearms

POLITICAL IDEOLOGY: Anarchist

AGE: 29

GENDER: Female

OCCUPATION–

You look up from the paper.

Paul is putting away his radio, having spoken out some encoded messages.

"Yo, Paul..."

"Yes?"

"She's got the same last name as you."

"Oh, yeah. She's my sister."

"Your SISTER? Well... Can't you just, like, text her or something..."

"That's... I don't use a civilian cell phone. The security vulnerabilities of that are tremendous, silly."

"Oh, right," you say. "The darn NSA and shit."

"Yes, precisely. So that's why I'm sending you to go say hi."

"You're not coming with me?"

"Er, no... I have my own duties to attend to. Look, here's the deal: S.O.T.M. leadership is NOT sold on the existence of Human Displacement. So all the research I've done has been in my spare time, not using Organization resources. Officially speaking, you're not working for us at all. You're just a visitor going off-base. However, you're gonna be in the same car as Handel Eisensägen, a field agent. Her official mission is to meet up with Bunny and see if she'd be willing to use her skills for our organization. I've already talked to Handel about all this and she has agreed to drive you to meet with Bunny."

"Damn, you're pretty slick," you say. "Who's really running the Sands?" you joke.

"You flatter me," says Paul. "I just know how things work around here. Though... Some people wanted me to assume a leadership role back when I was looking to get out of combat. I have, like, seniority or whatever, but also... I didn't only go into visitor relations because I'm charming. Dr. Indigo advised against it. Said I should avoid stressors if I could help it. And I think she was right! My complexion has gotten a lot better as the visitor liaison." He winks.

You laugh.

You hear the jingle of the bell on the visitors center door as it opens. Paul takes the dossier and shoves it in his pocket and the two of you go to the waiting room.

There are two people standing in the waiting room. On the left stands a white woman of average height, wearing a sports jersey, basketball shorts, and sneakers. She has a snapback on her head and aviator-style sunglasses on. Hoop earrings dangle from her ears.

On the right is a tall, strapping East Asian man wearing camouflage shorts, combat boots, and a white tank-top.

"KEVIN!" yells Paul, and he hurtles across the room, and jumps into the large man's arms. Kevin laughs as the two hug.

The woman crosses her arms.

"O-M-G you're baaaaack!" squeals Paul. He turns to you. "Mulligan! This is Kevin Sòng, my boyfriend! He was out on patrol for SOOOO LONG!"

You wave to Kevin, a smile on your face. Paul's cheer is infectious.

"Okay cool," says the woman, flatly. "Can we go now?"

You look at her quizzically.

"Oh, right," she says. "I'm Handel Eisensägen. You're Mulligan Redux, AKA Wasp Ghelsig. Paul told you everything relevant, right? I'm supposed to leave ASAP, so let's go," she says.

"Yeah, looks like I had better leave," you say to Paul. "I'm sure you two have plenty of catching up to do!"

Paul waves good-bye with one arm, the other wrapped firmly around his boyfriend.

You follow Handel out the door.

The sun shines down on the two of you from a cloudless sky.

You follow Handel as she trudges across the street over to the parking lot.

She unlocks a sports car and gets in.

You sit down in the passenger’s seat.

She turns to you.

“Okay, here’s how it’s going to go: I’m heading to go meet the potential asset and I will return here as soon as I’m done. I’m not doing any extra shit on your behalf. As long as you stick with me and don’t interfere, I’ll take you there and back. Do not do anything to attract the attention of the cops. I can’t stop the cops from arresting you, and in the event of an emergency, I will do everything in my power to avoid being arrested. The consequences of arrest are much worse for me than they are for you. Do you have any questions?”

“I guess not,” you say.

She nods and starts the car.

Top-40’s music starts playing as the car starts. Handel immediately turns it down.

Handel pulls out of the parking lot and rolls up to the security checkpoint.

The masked security guard looks at her. They nod at each other.

The guard walks over to your side of the car. They’re armed with a rifle, but they hold it casually, with a shoulder strap.

“You’re a visitor, right? Can I see your lanyard?”

You take it off your neck and hand it to them.

“Okay, this seems to be in order,” they say.

“Did you acquire any items at all while you were here?”

“Uhh,” you say, and then show them the ALCOHOL RATION CARD. The guard looks surprised. “…Why? …You know what, sorry, I don’t need to know. Uhh… Yeah I don’t think I can let you take this off-base though, it’s a bit of a security thing,”

“Okay, fine,” you say.

The guard puts the lanyard and the RATION CARD into a manila envelope and writes your name on it and tapes it shut.

They show it to you.

“We’ll keep it here for you for when you come back,” they say.

“Yeah, no problem. Not like I can use it off-base,” you say.

“Uh, true. Well, have a good rest of your day. Stay safe out there.”

“You too.”

The guard goes back to the booth and the gate opens.

Handel turns to you and hands you a bandana. “Blindfold on, please.”

You comply.

She accelerates and your head hits the headrest. Not hard enough to hurt, just hard enough to annoy you.

You can feel the air conditioning turn on, and you hear the music turn back up.

After about an hour, Handel asks you to take the blindfold off.

You’re on I-5, heading north. You pass by hotels, gas stations, dusty low hills of scrub-brush. You see an elaborate but faded sign for a theme park off to your left.

“How much further is it?” you ask.

Handel sighs. “About five and a half hours, traffic permitting.” You see that she has clipped a cell phone to the dashboard. The destination is an address in San Francisco. “364 miles,” reads the screen.

“Jesus,” you say.

“Hey, man, if you want me to drop you off so you can go back to doing normal people stuff, let me know,” says Handel.

“No way,” you say. “I’m in it to win it.”

She looks at you with a raised eyebrow. You shrug.

The landscape flies by.

Every time you see a cop car, you tense up, but none of them pay you any attention.

The upbeat music on the radio feels inappropriate, somehow.

After a couple hours, Handel exits the interstate and pulls into the drive-through entrance of a burger restaurant.

“Let’s get food,” she says.

“Is this the place that has that, like, secret menu with all the really good stuff on it?” you ask.

Handel rolls her eyes.

“Dude, just order something normal please,” she says.

“Hey, I was just asking,” you say.

You get a cheeseburger and a cola.

Handel gets a double bacon cheeseburger and a strawberry milkshake.

At the next window, she hands over a large bill and tells them to keep the change.

“Oh, how much do I owe you?” you ask.

“It’s just a burger. Don’t worry about it,” she says.

“Oh, uh, thanks.”

The attendant at the window hands over your orders.

“Aw, fuck yeah,” Handel says as she unwraps her large burger.

She eats it with one hand and keeps driving. Somehow she doesn’t make a mess. She doesn’t get any sauce on her face or drip anything on her lap.

You find your burger to be… definitely above-average for a fast food restaurant. Not the best you’ve ever had, but hey, it was ready in like 10 minutes.

After Handel finishes her burger, she crumples the wrapper and deposits it in the paper bag, then starts in on her shake.

“You must be really hungry,” you say.

Handel shoots you a look.

“We don’t get much meat or dairy at the base. We have to be as economical as possible. Plus, like half our members are vegan anyway. Me? I love me some meat.”

She sips her milkshake.

“Ice cream too. But yeah, that’s one of the benefits of missions like this. I can almost pretend to be a normal person.”

She laughs.

You don’t laugh with her. You don’t see the humor, and you feel like it would be… inappropriate? Or something.

You’re passing farmland now.

You keep passing farmland for quite a while.

Finally, you turn left onto I-580. You’re surrounded by brown hills and wind turbines that spin slowly in the hot breeze.

Like the breeze, you blow through towns that look the same, and then you meet green hills, and trees, and then the flat, infilled expanse of city between the Castro Valley and Oakland.

Highway after highway, city after town after city. You’re starting to zone out, and then you’re going across a suspension bridge.

“Is this the Golden Gate Bridge?” you ask. It doesn’t really look like the pictures you’ve seen.

“No,” says Handel. “This is the San Francisco-Oakland Bay Bridge. We’re coming from the East, not the North.”

You shrug. You have no reason to know that San Francisco had TWO large suspension bridges.

Finally, you’re on city streets, surrounded by tall buildings. This is the type of habitat you’re used to.

Handel turns a corner and you notice many of the businesses have names in both English and Mandarin Chinese. ‘Must be Chinatown,’ you think to yourself.

“Okay, we’re really close, just gotta find parking,” Handel mutters.

She circles the block and circles another block but eventually finds a parking spot.

The two of you get out of the car and stretch, both cramped from the hours of driving.

Handel looks at her phone. “This way,” she says.

You follow her down a narrow street, past a jewelry store and a hair salon. She stops in front of a Sichuanese restaurant. “Here,” she says.

“In the restaurant?” you ask.

“No, above the restaurant.”

She points and you can see a couple floors of what could be residential apartments.

She walks over to a nondescript metal door with an intercom system. She presses a few buttons then hits the call button.

"Who is it?" says a voice from the speaker.

"Is this Bunny Paulson?" asks Handel.

"I'm asking the questions here," says the speaker. "Who are you?"

"I'm Handel Eisensägen, and I'm here to talk to Bunny Paulson."

"Who do you work for?"

"I'm really only here to talk to Ms. Paulson, if she's not here, I can come back another time, or-"

"Answer the question."

"To whom am I speaking?"

"Answer my question first."

"We're friends of your brother!" you blurt out.

"Shut up," Handel says to you.

"I don't believe you," says the speaker.

"That is you, right Ms. Paulson?" asks Handel.

"Where did you get the name Bunny Paulson? What 'brother?'" says the speaker.

"Your brother, Paul Paulson, gave us your name and said you could help us hack something," you say. "Handel is a member of the Sands of the Mojave and I'm just... here on a personal mission. My name is Mulligan Redux."

"You're associated with those desert Maoists? LOL," says the speaker. Handel stares daggers at you.

"Still, if you're in contact with Paul, you can't be that bad. Hold on, I'll be right down," says Bunny(?).

Handel turns to you.

“What the fuck, man?” she says.

“Hey, look, if I wasn’t here, the two of you would still just be asking questions of each other and not giving any answers.”

“Information security-“ starts Handel, but you cut her off.

“Information security isn’t very useful if it prevents you from getting stuff done.”

She fumes silently.

About 5 minutes of grumpy silence later, the door opens, and a tan woman with short brown hair wearing a black tracksuit opens the door.

“Come with me,” she says, and walks towards the door of the Sichuanese restaurant.

You and Handel look at each other quizzically but you have no choice but to follow.

You enter the restaurant, and it has a warm, homey atmosphere. “Can I get a booth?” asks the woman who you assume is Bunny Paulson, and the hostess nods. You and Handel follow her to a booth and sit down.

“This is-“ starts Handel. “We have some very sensitive matters to discuss, and I’m not sure this is the most secure-“

“It’s my favorite restaurant,” says the woman. “Besides, I’m not letting you in my apartment. It’s rent-controlled. Can’t have you messing up the place.”

‘What are we, stray dogs?’ you think to yourself.

“But-“ tries Handel.

“We either talk here or we don’t talk.”

Even though none of you have ordered anything, the waitress brings a pot of hot tea, three cups, and a plate of freshly-cooked green onion pancakes. You can smell the sesame oil.

The woman in the tracksuit starts eating a slice of pancake.

“Sho,” she says with her mouth full, “Wha doesh my brudder Paul and hish group of shandy rebelsh wan meeta hack?”

“Well, we need some data from DARPA on their research into Domino Particles,” you explain.

“You ARE Bunny Paulson, right?” asks Handel, sounding cross.

“Yesh, ovioushly,” says Bunny Paulson. She swallows. “I’ve never heard of Domino Particles. Sounds made-up.”

“Well, uh, you’ll know they’re real if you get the data on them from DARPA’s servers,” you say, trying to sound tempting.

“And what’s the Legion of Dusty Insurrectionaries gonna do with the data?” asks Bunny.

“Well, The Sands of the Mojave doesn’t really wwnt that data,” says Handel. “Mulligan wants it for personal reasons. But if you’re able to get it, that would be really impressive to my superiors, and you’d be totally free to work with us on some really cool, revolutionary projects,”

“I’m not interested in working with a vanguard party,” says Bunny.

“We don’t think of ourselves as a vanguard party. We are not an officially Marxist-Leninist organization. In fact, we have members who belong to a variety of political leanings!” says Handel in a cheerful voice.

“If it walks like a duck, and talks like a duck, it’s probably… a duck,” says Bunny.

She eats another slice of green onion pancake, dipping it in the provided dish of black vinegar sauce.

“Can I have one?” you ask.

“Yeah sure,” says Bunny.

You bite into a slice. It tastes oily, salty, and of course it has the aromatic flavor of green onions. It’s very good, even compared to all of the ones you’ve had back in Chinatown in New York City.

You love Chinese food, no matter what side of the continent you’re on.

“I order the same thing every time, so now they just bring it to me when I come in,” Bunny explains.

You sip some tea. It’s a mild, flavorful green tea, not too bitter but full of grassy aroma.

Handel looks anxious.

“Er… We… I just want to accomplish things, revolutionary things, and since I joined the Sands of the Mojave, they’ve helped me do that, you see?” she says.

“Hmm. I see,” says Bunny, not seeming impressed. “Mulligan, tell me more about your ‘personal reasons’ for wanting to steal data from DARPA.”

You clear your throat. “Ms. Paulson… Have you ever heard of Human Displacement?”

She scoffs and dips the last slice of green onion pancake in black vinegar sauce. “I’m pretty sure it’s some fake thing that Paul used to talk about. Like a conspiracy theory or something.”

“Well… It’s not science fiction. It’s science fact. It’s caused by DARPA experiments, and we need to get all their data on it so we can stop them.”

“So you’re just another conspiracy theorist?”

“No. I’m a victim of Human Displacement.”

Bunny raises an eyebrow.

“How am I supposed to believe THAT?”

That rankles you.

“Look, if you’re such a great hacker, why don’t you look up the government records and, and social media shit, and all the information on Wasp Ghelsig and Mulligan Redux? Compare them. The data will show the same person in two different places at the same time. I AM Mulligan Redux and I have displaced Wasp Ghelsig from reality. It happened. Now their whole history has been overwritten, but I promise, it won’t make sense. DARPA fucking teleported me to California and now Wasp Ghelsig doesn’t exist anymore!”

You’ve raised your voice now. And you’re saying things that you’re pretty sure of, but you haven’t verified for yourself.

“Control yourself,” growls Handel.

Bunny Paulson is typing on her phone. Is she that bored with your predicament?

“Maybe this whole thing was a waste of time,” says Handel, and she starts to get up.

“What the hell?” says Bunny, staring at her phone. “One person… in two different places. At the same time. But that’s impossible…”

She types rapidly on her phone screen.

“These two passports’ photos were taken on the same day, in New York and California. But they are the same person.”

“…Are you illegally accessing government records with your cell phone?” asks Handel.

“I’m just that good,” says Bunny, still looking at her phone.

Bunny looks at you.

“I need to look into this more. What was the name of that particle?”

“Wait, are you gonna do it? Are you gonna hack DARPA?” you say.

Bunny smiles.

“You bet I am. No half-measures. This is something reeeeeal interesting. And you know what? When I’ve gotten some results, I’m gonna deliver the data personally. It’s gonna take a few days, but… Tell Paul that his big sis is gonna come visit.”

Handel Eisensägen looks from Bunny to you, apparently at a loss for words.

“It’s called the Domino Particle,” you say.

Bunny stands up and puts a bill onto the counter.

“Get outta here, I gotta do some real research.”

Handel speaks up. “Uh, how will you know where to go to visit us? Hold on, I can give you my phone number, and we’ll arrange to meet and rendezvous so we can escort you-“

“No need,” says Bunny. “I always know where Paul is. Your cybersecurity is good, but not good enough to stop me from keeping tabs on my brother. Just tell them to expect me. Brown pickup truck, license plate CYBRFUK. Now scoot,” she says, and starts walking out of the restaurant.

“Wait!” says Handel, and follows after her.

You follow as well.

Outside the restaurant, Bunny is heading towards her apartment door.

Handel is protesting, but Bunny is sismissing her.

“You can’t just show up! We have security procedures, and-“

“You can bend them for me. And you can tell your leadership that if they give me a reasonable request, I might procure some data for The Dust of Death Valley. I will be speaking to Paul first, though.”

Bunny types a long code into the electronic lock on her apartment building, and opens the door.

“Bye-bye! See you in a few days!”

“You can’t-!” says Handel, but the door has closed and Bunny has walked away.

Handel shakes her head in disbelief, her jaw slack, her gold hoop earrings flailing back and forth.

She’s silent for a moment, then she clenches her jaw shut.

“Let’s go,” she says through gritted teeth, and turns around and strides in the direction of the car. You follow after her.

In the car, Handel silently fumes for a minute.

“You okay?” you ask.

“That was a disaster,” she says.

You shrug. “I think it went fine,” you say. “She may be a bit unconventional, but it looks like she can really get results.”

Handel looks at you incredulously.

“SHE was difficult, stubborn and insulted the organization. YOU were reckless with information and yelled at her! AND we just found out that Ms. Paulson has compromised our operational security!”

“I don’t think she’d give out the base’s location. She just wants to make sure her brother is safe.”

Handel looks away from you and starts the car.

The music comes on and she turns the volume way up, as if to drown you out.

The drive back feels like it takes forever. The two of you don’t speak to each other.

As you’re heading South down I-5 you see a beautiful sunset.

By the time you get back to the base, the sun has set.

The security guard returns the lanyard and the alcohol ration card to you.

Handel parks in the parking lot and grips the steering wheel.

“Get out,” she says. “I need to write my report, and I don’t want to see anyone.”

She reaches past you and takes a pad of paper and a pen out of the glove box.

You get out of the car.

You shake your head and walk back the visitors center.

Paul is very surprised when you tell him what happened.

“Seriously? Wow. Well… On top of everything, I guess what surprises me most is… I never thought she would ever come visit me at a Sands of the Mojave base,” he says.

He shrugs. “I guess I’ll believe it when I see it.”

“Yeah I… I guess all we can do now is wait. I don’t know how long ‘A Few Days’ is,” you say, making quotation marks with your fingers.

The canteen is still open, so you hurry over for some dinner.

DAYS UNTIL BUNNY PAULSON’S HACKING IS DONE: 3

STATS:

AGGRESSION: 5

CAUTION: 5

HOMOSEXUALITY: 5

ENDURANCE: 5

SKILL: 5

INVENTORY:

CASH: $50

MULTI-TOOL

S.O.T.M. ALCOHOL RATION CARD

EQUIPMENT:

SUNGLASSES

T-SHIRT

JEANS

HIGH-TOP SNEAKERS

S.O.T.M. VISITOR CARD

#choose your own adventure #OAKBOUGH

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scarlettjohanssons-mistress · 2 years

Text

I come to kill you

Warnings: Weapon mentions, Doom Patrol freeform, first meet, attraction at first sight, semi slow burn

Word count: 1.0 K

Pairing: Rita Farr x Spy Fem!Reader

Prompt: Reader needs to escape from the biggest intelligence agencies on the planet, asking her friend Niles for help. Rita is, a little, in love with the woman who tried to kill her

Requests: OPEN

[Main masterlist] [DC masterlist]

Narrates Rita

"Larry, Jane and I are going to stop him, Cliff, Rita, you help the civilians" without giving us time to protest, Victor took the other two and left Cliff and me alone.

"Well, since my movements are a bit limited, you'll be the one to help the others."

"Uh, thanks for leaving me alone, Cliff."

Despite these excuses, Cliff helped some children to take refuge in nearby places, while I helped some ladies. Victor, Larry and Jane were trying to fight off an attempted sea monster?, until some shots were heard.

Although Victor had firearms, that shot sounded different, but I tried to reassure the women, ignoring my own fear.

After a while, I heard a scream outside, so I walked out of the little place, to meet Larry, Victor, and Cliff.

"What's wrong? Where's Jane?" I asked for.

Just when Larry was going to answer me we heard a knock, and we saw how Jane's body crawled to our feet, so we turned our heads to see the shadow that began to advance towards us.

A short-complexioned woman with her hair tied back in a bun and wearing a gray suit was slowly approaching.

"Who the hell is she?"

Everything happened so fast that I didn't even have enough consciousness to know what happened.

The woman, from one moment to another, took out a gun, and with a quick movement, she reached my side, grabbed my neck and pinned me against her chest.

Her left hand rested on my neck, squeezing it firmly, but without hurting me, but her right hand held the gun, while she placed it right on my temple.

“Take me to Niles Caulder ” she speak, in a voice soft enough to have a lethal weapon against me.

"Hey, calm down" Larry tried to help, but only made the gun point from my head to his, but, still, the woman did not let go of me

"TAKE ME TO NILES CAULDER OR I'LL BLOW YOUR HEADS OUT!"

"Fine, fine" Victor stood in front of her, and tried to appear harmless "just let go of our friend, and we'll take you there"

“Do you think I was born yesterday, ignorant child? She'll be fine, as long as I'm guided to him."

"Please listen to her" I finally spoke, trying to reassure myself, and them too.

"You have already heard the beautiful lady, or take me to the boss, or you will have to pick up the lifeless body of your friend… you decide"

The guys were completely silent, as they began to walk, straight to the mansion, this was the moment where he was grateful not to be so far from home.

We all walked in silence, until a small movement from the woman hurt my arm, causing me to complain.

"I'm sorry" she whisper, trying to give a little caress in the area

———————————————————————————

"Niles, someone is looking for you!"

The man came out of the kitchen, staring at the woman who was subduing me with a smile on his face as he shook his head.

“Oh, woman, you never change. What's your name now? Clara? Grace? Sophia? Or Ava ?”

“Cut the nonsense, Niles”

With great care, the woman released me, and suddenly sat down in front of the man, with a big smile.

“Guys, she is Y/N, Y/N Y/L…”

“Oh no, the last name is confidential”

"Well, this is Y/N, an old friend and a CIA agent."

“Former agent of the CIA, MI6 and the extinct KGB”

"Wait… your friend, is she like a James Bond?" asked Larry excited

"Arguably yes, but don't believe everything you read, being an agent isn't as pretty as it's made out to be"

"And what are you doing here, dear?" Niles asked as he took her hand.

“I am expelled from more than 10 countries, France, Germany and Russia are following me, I cannot return to England, returning would mean the discovery of more than 100 agents… and, in fact, the United States is also looking for me, but, I know that, if you give me a space in your little… home, you would help me not to be tortured by the CIA itself”

“Sure, you know you will always be welcome in this house”

"Niles, are you going to let a killer stay in our own house? She tried to murder Rita

"Yeah" the woman stretched out, interrupting Victor "speaking of which, darling, excuse me , but, desperate situations call for desperate measures"

"Do you think that with a simple apology we can be in peace?" Victor spoke again

"Kid, I'm the one with more than 10 nations on my shoulders, with millions of people who put a price on my head, and do you think it's very comfortable for me to sleep with a bunch of strangers?"

"Kid? Do you know who I am?"

“No, but obviously you are a kid, since if you were an adult, you would understand that this is just a normal day for an agent”

“Ohh, excuse me, I forgot we had James Bond at home”

"Don't worry"

I interrupted the absurd fight between the guest and Victor , making them both turn around, the woman with an unreadable face, while the dark-haired man had a grimace of disbelief

"What?"

"She is clearly in dire need of a place to hide, because if I were her, this place would be my last option. And if what she seek is my forgiveness, I understand that too, I don't know what I would have been capable of, just to avoid someone looking at me after… that day”

Victor only managed to shake his head, as he walked away from Y/N's personal space

“Well, I appreciate your apology, miss; but, even so, if any of you feel some discomfort and/or anguish about my residence, I could give you a couple of weapons, for protection”

“I feel uncomfortable”

"No Jane, you just want the gun"

" Shut up Cliff"

“Well, since, everyone agrees to your stay. It's better if I show you your room." Niles started to move, to go to the rooms.

"I follow you captain "

Both disappeared from our sight, while Jane, Cliff and Victor left the room, leaving me and Larry alone.

"Are you sure you're okay?"

“Yeah, if Niles trusts her, I think we also we should do it”

"Of course, it's not like the whole trip here you haven't taken your eyes off her"

"What?"

"I'm leaving." Larry got up , jogging to his room.

“LARRY!"

Note:

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camlovesheroes · 2 years

Text

King of Mischief (Chapter 4)

Chapter 4 (The First Battle)

Word count: 3.7k

T/w: This chapter contains several acts of violence, arguments and mentions of sharp objects & firearms, and foul language, read at your own discretion.

Author's note: I hope this chapter lives up to your expectations! My laptop has been going crazy with the amount of time I'm spending while writing this fic. Gotta have the batteries replaced soon TvT

As both of you arrived at the headquarters you could see that the whole team was all over the place, Nat and Bruce were analyzing the attack, Steve was communicating through his earpiece and Tony was already in his Iron Man armor with a suited up Spiderman by his side. “What’s the report?” Loki let go of your hand and you instantly went to the windows to analyze the situation yourself. There was a portal opened in the sky, sorcerers, mages and cosmic beings pouring out of it.

“There are less than five portals opened throughout Earth, they reported witches and wizards as well as monsters attacking the people. S.H.I.E.L.D has pushed out some of their agents onto the field.” Natasha explained as simply as she could while she typed on the computer. “I just got news from T’Challa. The reason he’s not here is because Wakanda had been attacked as soon as the jet flew out of the hidden zone. The place is compromised.” Tony conveyed the message he had received seconds ago. “Less than five portals open? I thought that witch wanted to start a war? Only five portals to cover the surface of the Earth?” Clint questioned

“Don’t underestimate her, I think she has a bigger plan than what we ought to believe.” Your brows furrowed. “We need to go out there now. These helpless people are in danger.” You turned around and pulled out two of your daggers, each in one hand. “She’s right, F.R.I.D.A.Y, keep an eye on everything that is happening. Notify us through our earpieces as soon as you’ve received any news.” He handed you an earpiece of your own and Loki came over to you to help you put it on. “You got it boss.” F.R.I.D.A.Y answered.

Just then, a portal opened and Doctor Strange came into the headquarters alone, “The New York Sanctum has been compromised. These mages really know what they’re doing. Killed every single understudy that I have.” He breathed heavily, assuming that he had been fighting for a while back in his sanctum. “Where’s Wong?” You asked. “He’s in Kamar Taj with the other masters, these sorcerers are really keen on destroying the place. But they’re holding up pretty well.” The anxiety was starting to build inside of you. Amora was targeting the sanctums that hold the highest concentration of sorcerers on Midgard, it was just a matter of time until the headquarters would be attacked.

“Alright everyone gather around now! I need to protect your minds from those sorcerers’ powers before you go out and fight.” The team gathered around you in a circle, except for Loki, Wanda, Strange and Vision and you began to focus all your powers into the mind protection spell. Once you were done, everyone got into position. “Sam, you get out there first and give us an overview of the area.” Tony sent out the first Avenger to investigate the damage and head count of each attacker on the field. Without wasting any time, the Falcon who was already at the rooftop took his orders and flew out, hovering over the jeopardized areas, being careful to not get too close to the portal.

“Anything Sam?” Tony asked. “It’s bad, Tone.. Really bad.. But these bitches are only taking out civilians. Pussies.” He scanned through the area even more and saw that some of Amora’s men were headed towards the Avengers Compound. “Oop heads up yall, they’re coming your way now.” He warned before he was attacked by one of the sorcerers that had the ability to fly. “Woah, I need back up! Stat!” Everyone heard his request and Tony quickly asked Strange to open a portal for them to get to where Sam is located. Just as you were all about to go, another portal opened and you could see Wong in front of it, his background was in shambles and you heard the sound of people fighting.

“Wong?” Loki knitted his eyebrows, his forehead creasing. “We need backup. Most of the students were killed or injured by these savages. We’re afraid that there will be a bigger wave coming. Quick!” He looked behind him to make sure that his surroundings were safe. You knew that they needed at least one person who was well-versed with cosmic magic to help in both Kamar Taj and Atlanta which meant that you and Loki would have to be separated. You held onto Loki’s hand and gazed up at him. Although you didn’t say a word, your husband knew that you were worried and didn’t want to separate ways with him, neither did he but he had no choice other than to consider the circumstances.

“I’m going with you.” He said to Wong and you immediately said no. “I’m going with you.” Your spouse shook his head. “Aurelia, you need to help the others, they need you. I’ll be safe in the presence of the masters and you’ll be safe with Thor.” The man looked at his brother. “Please keep her safe.” “I will brother.” Thor nodded his head as he swung Mjolnir around. “Alright, alright, ten to Kamar Taj, nine stay here.” Tony cleared up the air upon Wong’s sudden change of plans. They were all unsure of where the Enchantress would start the war but it turned out to be scattered so the Iron Man had to improvise.

“Aurie, Thor and the gang, Steve and Bucky, you guys help Sam out. Me and the rest are gonna help defend Kamar Taj.” You nodded in agreement. It was crucial for them to defend the temple since it houses many sorcerers that could provide aid during this mystical war against Amora and her troops. You gave Loki one last meaningful look before you went into Strange’s portal and onto the streets of Atlanta. You prayed to the Norns that everyone’s comes back in good shape and with victorious news.

Walking out of the portal, Loki was alert with his surroundings immediately, hearing the sounds of people struggling and giving orders out to one another. The whole group didn’t waste any time as they went straight into battle. They exited the safe place and were instantly assailed by the mages and sorcerers who were on Amora’s side. “Show time guys.” Tony spoke as they began to fight off the enemies.

Peter webbed some of the foes to ease the way for Iron Man’s attacks. Vision and Wanda floated up to strike the bad guys from above, their powers proven to be extremely useful in defeating them. Clint together with Strange used the portals the doctor made to shoot arrows at the rebels. Wong banded up with Kamar Taj’s students to use their sorcery skills to fight off the Dark Elves that came onto them. Nat with her impressive combat skills came onto the enemies with her bullets and self defense moves while Bruce had already transformed into the Hulk and mashing the cosmic beings into a mush of blood and bones. Loki on the other hand used his magic and talents with daggers and knives to slash his victims and enchant them to be on the Avengers side, with a flair of mischievousness of course.

But there was something off somewhere, although these enemies put up a good fight, they were pretty average and seemed inexperienced compared to the foes he had fought in the past. They were amateurs. It didn’t add up, why would Amora send weak, ill-skilled soldiers to invade Kamar Taj? Most of these rogues weren’t even using that much magic to fight them, all of the magic he’s seen being used by them were simply parlor tricks. They used the weapons that they have more frequently than magic.

Then it dawned on him, the Enchantress’ mission wasn’t to invade Kamar Taj, all these attacks were just a distraction. He knew his ex very well, there would always be something bigger behind the covers. If these attacks were just a cover, where would the real mission be? Atlanta! She wanted to break the team up and once she knew where you were exactly, she’d focus there. Why? Because she knew that you are Loki’s weakness, something she could use to overthrow him or make him surrender. “Shit, F.R.I.D.A.Y, details on Atlanta and Aurelia now.” He connected to the headquarters and communicated to the AI that was manning the place. “On it!” F.R.I.D.A.Y answered.

After the deaths of all the enemies, the portal that was in Nepal’s skies were closed and everyone came together to look at Loki who was still waiting on F.R.I.D.A.Y’s report. “F.R.I.D.A.Y, a report on Atlanta please.” Tony spoke to his artificial intelligent helper. “I’m sorry Tony, but it seems that I can’t reach out to any of them and the satellite over the area is disrupted by some kind of force. I’ve been trying to connect to them but there was no response.” The female voice spoke out. Tony panicked quietly before his head whipped towards Strange. “We need to go back now.”

You and the rest of the Avengers went out of Strange’s portal and initiated the search for Sam. This would be the first time you are separated from Loki at such a long distance, it made you more aware and careful since your husband wasn’t there to protect and back you up. Unlike Loki’s group, your group was rapidly targeted by the sorcerers. Luckily for you, you were accompanied by your fellow Asgardians, Lady Sif, Fandrall, Volstagg, Hogun and your brother in law, Thor. They were armed with Asgardian weapons that could provide much more damage as compared to the Midgardian weapons that Steve, Bucky and Sam had. Though, you can’t argue the fact that Captain America’s vibranium shield and Bucky’s vibranium arm could almost measure up to the quality of the Asgardian weapons you had.

All of you fought hard to defend the vulnerable civilians against these foreign cosmic creatures. Thor with Mjolnir, Lady Sif and the Warriors Three with their spirits to defend Asgard, Steve with his patriotic courage; throwing and flinging his shield towards a group of mages while Bucky used his war equipment and durable arm to attack those men. When you had a little bit of space, you focused your senses to find Sam but instead, you heard an infant’s cry. It came from a stroller that had been stranded on the side of a street; the mother’s body not too far from there. “Guys, cover for me!” You saw an army of monsters coming towards you, they were of large sizes and the stroller would obviously be trampled by them if you didn’t do something.

“Aurelia, wait!” Thor shouted as you sped up towards the swarm, it was a suicide mission but you had to save the child by hook or by crook. You jumped onto the parked cars and landed right in front of the stroller. You took the child in one arm and hugged it as tight as you could though it was a bit too late for you to run away. Just as a large axe was about to hit you, your reflexes worked fast and you have created a magic bubble to protect you and the baby. The elves and ogres didn’t stop stomping their fists on your bubble, determined to kill you. Their hits started to weaken the bubble, you didn’t give up and you grunted. You look at the baby in your embrace and he gives you the motivation to defend yourself.

Right before your group could help you out, your powers bursted like an explosion and killed most of the monsters that had surrounded you and the child, making your teammates halt in their steps. Thor squinted his eyes, his breath was taken away by the strength of your powers. He had underestimated you, you were a force to be reckoned with after all. You looked around at the damage you had done and one particular elf caught your eye, he spoke to himself, “We’ve found her, Your Majesty.”

Knowing well that the Enchantress’ powers were unlimited, you suspected that the elf was communicating with his leader through telepathy. He didn’t survive for long though since Sif decided to slice him in half before he could do anything else. “Hey guys! Where yall at?” You heard Sam ask in your ear. “We’re near Peachtree Street. In front of, uhh, Matt’s Deli.” Steve responded. “Aight, I’m comin’ your way.” Sam announced.

As soon as the Falcon came over, you walked towards him, “Are you alright?” You asked, worried if he was harmed. “Yeah I’m good. A couple of those Voldemorts came after me.” He explained what his situation was. “Thank God your lil spell worked. Wait, who’s baby is that?” He was distracted by the child that you were holding. “It’s your next mission. Bring this child to any rooftop that is safe. I can’t fight efficiently with an infant in my hands.” You gave the boy to Sam gently, smiling softly at the adorable baby, your motherly instincts showing. Sam saluted you and held onto the child carefully before flying off to somewhere safe.

“Alright, back to business. Let’s kill these monsters and witches.” Bucky looked ahead of you, there were more waves coming towards your team. You, already losing all of your blades and daggers, have to resort to your mystical powers to go against those creatures. “Let’s go.” You spoke, with a smirk on your face. Thor and his companions shouted out, full of energy and enthusiasm as your group charged forward into the battalion of cosmic beings.

You didn’t realize how long you and your heroic friends had engaged in the battle but you could see that it was no longer crowded as before, a large sum of your foes had been killed. It gave you a chance to take a breather and to look at the atmosphere. You came to the realization that there was a large, transparent green dome covering the city. The only entrance and exit being the portal that brought out all these rogues into Atlanta. In the moment of distraction, you did not notice a mage approaching you and when you did, it was too late and he placed his hand on your stomach.

The golden glow on your hands dimmed down as you felt a surge of pain coursing through your body, especially from your abdomen. “Hello little one.” The disgusting looking mage evilly smiled; his teeth were rotting and his tongue was black, his skin gray as ash, wrinkles covered him entirely. You moaned in pain as it felt like he was twisting you from the inside, tears welled up in your eyes, you were suffering and confused, what was he doing? You have never felt this kind of pain before, especially from a mage. Your agonized scream was heard from Thor who was still fighting. Seeing that his sister in law was in danger, he quickly threw Mjolnir towards your direction but he missed by half an inch when the mage sensed the hammer heading towards him.

As if a switch had been flicked, all of the enemies retreated, as well as the mage that tormented you. Right after they withdrew, you fell to the ground kneeling. Loki and the other half of the team arrived a tad bit too late and he was panic-stricken upon seeing you kneeling on the ground whilst touching your stomach. “Aurelia!” He ran towards you just in time to capture you before you fell face first to the ground. “What happened?! Who hurt you?” He cupped your face anxiously. “I’m fine.” You answered, your voice shaky.

Tony inspected the area, seeing all the mass destruction Amora’s army had caused. The green dome that you saw had disappeared as well as the portal. “Goddammit. F.R.I.D.A.Y, assessment of deaths in Atlanta please.” He asked his assistant. “There’s approximately 800 civilians killed and a thousand badly injured and harmed sir.” The AI informed. “Shit. This is bad..” He huffed out, retracting his headgear.

Back at the Avengers compound, Tony, Steve, Nat and Pepper were busy handling the calls from various authorities throughout America. Turns out, those five portals that Amora had opened were in the skies of Wakanda, Atlanta, Kamar Taj, and two in New York, one at New York’s Sanctum Sanctorum and one at the S.H.I.E.L.D headquarters. The army of monsters, mages and sorcerers had destroyed public buildings as well as created massive damage to the streets where the attacks had happened. Not forgetting to mention the lives that were lost and the hundreds of people who are suffering over their trauma.

Loki on the other hand sat next to you while you were laying inside of a scanner, similar to an MRI machine that helps detect any internal wounds; Bruce was manning the device. “Any problem?” Your husband asked curiously. “Nothing out of the ordinary here. It might take a little longer for the machine to process the scan, we’ve never used this on Asgardians or aliens. I’ll inform you when the results come out.” The professor answered as Loki helped you get down out of the device. “Do you really think this is necessary?” You questioned their decision to scan your body. “I mean, Steve saw that you were in excruciating pain back there but we couldn’t see anything appear physically, no bruise, no scratch, nothing. We’re worried that the mage might’ve done something to you from the inside.” Bruce justified the decision.

Seconds later, Thor came into the treatment room to check on you. He had been equally worried after seeing and hearing you scream your lungs out earlier. When Loki’s eyes met with his brother’s, he speedwalked to him and held a conjured dagger to his brother’s throat. “Loki!” You yelled, warning him to behave himself but he ignored you. “I trusted you to protect her. You failed!” He was brimming with anger. “Loki, no! Stop it. I’m fine..” You held onto his shoulder. “There’s barely a scratch on my skin. And I feel completely fine right now.. Stop this madness in an instant.” You scolded him. “Thor tried to hit him with the Mjolnir. The mage dodged it. It wasn’t his fault. I got distracted and put myself in an exposed state.” You cleared things up and only then did he let Thor go, the dagger disappearing from his hold.

“I shouldn’t have let you join the battle..” He sighed. “Don’t be ridiculous. It was my choice to fight.” You argued. “There’s nothing you can do to stop me.” You added.

“Okay, so let me get this straight, this witch, your ex-girlfriend, Amora, opened five portals over our allies’ headquarters to distract us and separate you and Aurie?” Tony was in disbelief. “Is she always this petty? Is this a jealous strike? We were told that her powers were a big threat to the universe and she had overtaken eight realms out of nine, including Asgard, yet she’s taking her sweet sweet time to invade Earth?” Tony paused for a moment. “I’m not asking for her to take over Earth at all but good God, wouldn’t it be faster and easier for her to just let all her soldiers out and fight us to death instead of attacking us in rounds?” The man couldn’t wrap his hand around Amora’s plans.

“She treats this as if it’s some kind of game..” The Black Widow crossed her arms over her chest.

“It’s because it is. At least for her. She likes the push and pull.” Loki interrupted. “She is just like me. Except, she is full of vengeance and hatred. Especially after my father had her banished from Asgard. And with me betraying the pact we made, that must’ve rubbed salt in her wound.” The God continued.

“And why is she after your queen?” Thor asked.

“Because she knows my weaknesses are the people that I love and cherish with all of my heart. My theory is that she probably wants to take Aurelia away from me and make her a hostage until she gets what she wants.” Loki presumed, you weren’t surprised if that’s what Amora is planning to do, the sorceress seemed to be the kind to pull those kinds of acts.

“And what does the Enchantress want, really?” Steve leaned into the table.

“Power, lots and lots of it.” Your husband’s voice went dark.

“Your Majesty, this mage has come to bear good news and information for you..” Ymir announced to Amora who was sitting on Asgard’s throne, behind him was the very same mage who had inflicted pain on you.

“Your Majesty, my queen. I have a crucial detail that might come in handy for our next plan..” He knelt in front of her with his head bowed.

“What is it that you have?” The Enchantress raised an eyebrow, wondering whether the information was as useful as he claimed.

“I have come in contact with Loki’s wife, an Oralfian named Aurelia. I assume you know who she is?” The mage inquired.

“Yes I do.. And?” She was getting impatient with the old man.

“I believe she is with a child, Your Majesty. I sensed another being from within her and when I touched her, everything was confirmed. I think this news could be used to weaken her in addition to what you already have.” Amora sat up straight and wickedly grinned.

“So the two had already spent some time together it seems.. Thank you, wise man. I would most definitely use it to our kingdom’s advantage. You may go now.” She dismissed the mage.

Once the elderly man had left the throne room, Lorelei, her right hand man, turned to her sister. “What is coming next sister?”

“We shall wait a bit more, make them feel comfortable and lull them into a false sense of security. Then, when they least expect it, we strike.” The self-appointed ruler of Asgard grinned. You, Loki and your bairn would be safe for a little while until the Enchantress strikes again.

Chapter 5

Taglist:

@clockblobber

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thessalian · 2 years

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Thess vs Gun Control

So here we go: the school shooting in Uvalde. Because ... y’know, I’ve been watching this shit for a very long time. Hell, this shit has been going on for a very long time - I was kind of horrified to find out that the first recorded school shooting in the US was in 1840. Numbers slowly escalated until about the 50s, when they started to increase rather faster and then fucking skyrocketed starting about 1980. And every once in awhile they have to upgrade ‘shooting’ to ‘massacre’ because of just how many people died. And I watch this and I just...

See, I live in the UK now. And in 1996, there was a school shooting that had to be upgraded to ‘massacre’. That was Dunblane. Thing is, there are two major differences between Dunblane and ... like, every unholy mess you find in the US. See, first of all, Dunblane wasn’t a student who got hold of his parents’ firearms or somehow managed to buy their own. No, the Dunblane Massacre was perpetrated by a paedophile asshole with four legally-owned handguns.

And that’s where difference number two comes in. Immediately after this whole mess - handgun ban. No ifs, no buts, no maybes. Automatic weapons are banned wholesale. Rifles and shotguns have control on the type and ammunition you’re allowed, and then only after a lot of background checks. And pistols? You’re literally only allowed a muzzle-loading pistol, and that with a license. Summary? They were tough on things here before Dunblane, but after? Nope nope nope.

Thing is, as much as I would love for this to happen in the US? I see it being a long, hard road to get there. Why? Because, again, gun culture. The US has one. The UK does not. When the handgun ban came into effect here, people quite happily took advantage of the buy-back scheme that the government ran. I don’t think that’d happen in the US ... and the worst part is? The people least likely to give up their guns are generally speaking the last people in the world who should have one.

They’ll always talk about how they need guns to protect themselves and their families, and the second amendment, and blah. And I actually had a friend who, when the Virginia Tech shooting happened, said, “If more of those kids or the teachers were armed, fewer people would have died”. Wouldn’t listen when I flagged up that was bullshit, and in fact that probably more people would have died. Because first of all, I’ve read where even armed people with military training haven’t just shot the gunman down in those situations; what the hell chance does a civilian have? And second of all - friendly fire isn’t. Once Mr Bullet has left Mr Gun, he is no longer your friend. More bullets just mean more deaths and more injuries.

As to the second amendment? That’s a horrible misreading and a moot point besides. People are granted the right to bear arms to form a militia against a tyrannical government. I mean, even if the people with the guns weren’t more likely to support the tyrannical government than oppose it, that amendment is a holdover from the days when weapons tech was a little more even than it is now. I’m sorry, but your AR-15 is going to do jack shit against a tank. So that kind of militia is pointless long-term, so the second amendment needs serious revision anyway.

But, again, gun culture. I know that everyone thinks that there should be better gun control. And there should be better gun control. The UK manages just fine without people being allowed automatic weapons and handguns. However, I don’t expect to see decent gun control in the US in my lifetime. There would be way too much push-back from way too many people who would shoot anyone who even tried to ‘take their guns away’.

And as for the people saying that Biden should just do it and to hell with what anyone else says? Keep in mind the following: that’s how Trump governed. We can’t be okay with one president throwing out an executive order for whatever he feels like at the time after we spent four years bitching about another president doing the same. That kind of law can’t just exist for people whose ideas we don’t like.

This is another one that has no easy solution. The handgun ban worked for the UK. It would never fly in the US. The only thing we can do now is try to break up the gun culture so that maybe, someday, our descendants will be able to do what we’d like to be able to but can’t.

#Thess has opinions

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bdbdhdjdhdh · 1 year

Text

It is the year 1942.

It is the second month of the year.

It is the 15th day of the month.

The Japanese are here.

They have invaded Singapore.

The British have done nothing to defend against their attacks.

It is hell.

Pain.

Torture.

Everywhere you look, you see Japanese soldiers violently beating innocent passing civilians who happened to look them the wrong way.

Everywhere you go, the blood of soldiers and young children alike are spilled.

The blood of women.

The blood of children.

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

It has been 3 hellish years and 7 torturous months since then.

The Japanese have surrendered.

We are free.

Not for long.

With no government to keep us in check, it was chaos.

People were stealing.

People were killing.

Nowhere you ran to was safe.

Gangs were formed. Be under the leader's protection, and you could keep your head away from any cleavers or axes.

Anger the leader, be prepared to be smither.

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

It is now 1984.

The government has introduced... what? Total Defence Day? Pillars of defence, psychological, military, economic, whatever.

The government has signed a contract with the pillars.

"Keep Singapore safe at all costs. I do not know who you are, where you come from, or who you serve, but I am entrusting this fertile land to your defence. We'll even dedicate a holiday to you, and give you your own victory cry,"

Those were the words of the government.

"Of course, as long as you provide us with a safe space to live, we'll defend this land to our deaths, that was the agreement,

But I think we do not need to put in too much effort, for your people seem extremely eager to defend this land, they will surely do really well without us,"

Those were the words of our pillars too, as we know them.

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

It is now the present-day 2023.

It is a peaceful time.

Everyone is living happily and enjoying their lives without a care in the world.

"Looks like this place really doesn't need us anymore, people can't even be bothered to conduct fire drills properly," Mendax? That you?

"What do you expect? It's meant to be a peaceful time, isn't it disgraceful to us if there's still war after so long?" Ah, Sicarius.

"Do you think they'll still let us live here? I mean, this place doesn't need us anymore," Sunda was ever so straight to the point.

"Of course they will, they've seen what we're capable of in the war, they wouldn't risk that being deflected back on them," Now there's my optimistic Laju!

Fentanyl and Pertama kept silent as ever.

"BAAAAAAADDDDDDDDUUUUUUUMMMMMMM" Uh...what was that sound?

"A ranged firearm, 6 bullets fired... it's a terrorist attack," Fentanyl made his diagnosis based on his prior experience.

"EVERYON PUT YOUR HANDS IN THE AIR, PUT YOUR BELONGINGS IN THIS BAG, AND STAY WHERE I CAN SEE YOU!" An armed man bellowed loudly into the air as he walked into the shopping mall while shooting away at his gun. He was followed by at least 8 men, all armed and wearing ski masks as well. So the one with the big mouth should be their leader.

"YOU SIX! I WANT YOU TO COME HERE AND GIVE ME ALL YOUR STUFF!" The leader snapped at the pillars. Yep, it was definitely a case of religious radicalisation.

"Uh... do you really think you're in a position to ask questions?" Mendax spoke up first. He must have annoyed the leader, because his men immediately opened fire on them, sparing not a single bullet.

But mortal weapons were no match for pillars. Our six heroes calmly dodged every single one of them.

Pertama then proceeded to shoot them down and beat the shit out of their limbs so that they wouldn't be able to escape.

They must shown some of their supernatural powers when dodging the bullets there, because one of the leader's men immediately screamed, "Demon! Demon!"

Sunda then smirked, turned around and announced to them, "Oh we are demons indeed, but you might know us better as the pillars of total defence,"

"Now, we really don't like it when people threaten the safety of this land. How shall we have our own fun with you now, then,?"

idk honestly 3am can't sleep, wrote shit about the pillars

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milf-murdock · 2 years

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🖤18+ only MDNI 🖤

* = nsfw

Call of Duty Masterlist

Simon "Ghost" Riley x 141!Reader

These are stories where reader is a member of Task Force 141 and in an established relationship with Ghost. These can all be read in the same "AU".

Interrupted: Shielding Ghost's face with your hands when your make out session gets interrupted

Interrupted, Pt. 2: The aftermath of your interruption

Last Kiss (part 1) - Simon thinks he loses you in a mission gone wrong, only to find that you survived. The relief causes Ghost to finally confront his feelings about you and how much you mean to him.

Last Kiss (Part 2) *NSFW

I See Red (Part 1): A tech expert lends her expertise to the 141 for a mission. It’s not her fault that she’s tall, beautiful, and perfect. But it is her fault that she can’t keep her goddamn hands to herself. How else are you supposed to react when you walk in to find her lips on your Ghost?

I See Red (Part 2):

Nightmares: You’d always avoided spending the night with Simon. That is, until one night you accidentally fell asleep, and Simon finds out what you’ve been hiding.

Wrong words: Terrified you’d been injured by a reckless decision of yours while out on a mission, Ghost is equal parts relieved and pissed to see you making light of the situation with your teammate. Ghost’s temper gets the best of him in the heat of the moment and he has to do some damage control to make it better.

Simon when you’re sick

Drabble: injured reader with audio clip

The Ghost of You - Simon thinks you're KIA (requested)

The Ghost of You (pt. 2) - How the other members of the 141 react to thinking you're KIA

The Ghost of You (pt 3) - You show up on Ghost's doorstep

Simon "Ghost" Riley x Civilian!Reader

These are stories where reader is either a civilian or unnspecified and in an established relationship with Simon. I like to consider these more "domestic Simon" ;) These can all be read in the same "AU".

A Sorry Surprise - Simon surprises you by coming home early, only to stumble upon two unfortunate surprises of his own: a strange man on your couch and you with an injured leg.

Manchester Mixup - Simon’s non-British partner that doesn’t realize there’s a Man City football team and a Man U football team and buys the wrong tshirt

Baby Please Come Home (Not the Good Bourbon) - Simon's mission runs long and he nearly misses Christmas

Winter Things - You and Simon argue over whether it's time to pull out the winter duvet yet.

The Scare (Requested) - Pregnancy Scare (Dark!Simon AU)

The Scare Part 2* (Requested)

The Scare Part 3 (Requested) - Simon helping you with morning sickness. Simon hearing the heartbeat for the first time. Simon feeling them kick for the first time.

Asthma Attack (Requested)

Joking With Simon About Joining the Military (Requested)

Gym sessions with Simon

Horny Ghost vs Simon head-canons: How they fuck you *NSFW

Safety First - After a scare involving a break-in at your flat, Simon decides to take extreme measures to ensure your safety—including getting you an illegal firearm and teaching you how to use it. What he doesn’t expect is just how turned on he is by watching you shoot it.

Uncle Simon

Simon "Ghost" Riley x John "Soap" Mactavish x Reader (Established throuple)

Fever - The boys find you in a feverish haze before rushing you to the hospital.

Frozen - You, Ghost, and Soap were heading back to the safe house from a quick reconnaissance mission when you’re caught by a surprise ambush. Soap’s quick maneuvering saved your lives, but when you end up overboard in freezing waters, a whole new challenge presents itself.

Unsteady - (Requested) Simon and Johnny take care of you after you almost pass out at the pub.

Feels Like Home - Your boys come home to you.

Captain John Price x Reader

Captain - Price just got promoted to captain, and then inadvertently discovers he really likes it when you call him by his new title. Like, he really likes it.

Drabble*: Whiskey, Cigars, and Riding Captain Price *NSFW

Kate Laswell x Reader

Kate Laswell x Wife!Reader: The bracelet

Daredevil Masterlist

Right Where You Left Me - (Matt Murdock x Reader) An earthquake hits Hells Kitchen

Drabble: Matt Can Smell When You’re Ovulating* - (Matt Murdock x Reader) Title is pretty self explanatory

Distractions* - (Matt Murdock x Reader) Movie night in the Murdock household goes awry (in the best possible way)

Stitches - (Matt Murdock x Reader) Matt tends to your wounds after a clumsy accident

Drabble: Wine Tasting - (Matt Murdock x Reader)

Matt Murdock x Teacher!Reader Headcanons

Matt Murdock x Teacher!Reader Wedding Headcanons

Bound* - (Matt Murdock x Reader) Matt puts his knot tying skills to good use.

#Masterlist

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aquariasmoon · 2 years

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Random Neoborg/Blitzkrieg boys Headcanons

Spencer, despite being in the abbey the longest, is the one who is the most mentally stable. Simply because he suffered the least amount of abuse because he was good at following orders. He's Not that talkative but (like his concept art says) is very kindhearted ,definitely helped the other kids when no guards were around.

Spencer is also the one who adjusted to life outside of the abbey the fastest the others kinda latched onto him for support for the first few weeks/months.

Tala styles his hair up but only to keep it out of his face, he isn't all that bothered about how it looks. He has had that hairstyle since he was little and just never thought or could never bring himself to change it so he just does his best to keep it out of his face. The two strands of hair he has are slightly too short to stay tucked behind his ears and end up falling in front of his face. He aften tucks them back behind his ear…to which they fall back in front of his face lol

Talas hair is wavy when down :)

Byrans pierced his own ears (the ol heating a safety pin over a lighter to “sterilize” it ) and the two gold hoops he wears are actually pickpocketed.

He ended up doing that to the rest of the guys once they got their hands on earrings. Miraculously they all somehow avoided an infection.

Byran and tala continued to steal and pickpocket after going to the abbey. They would pickpocket guards often and when they could, civilians too. They are still good at it but tala doesn't do it anymore and but byran sometimes does it for fun.

Tala and bryan have food insecurity from childhood and in the abbey one punishment was withholding food. Now out of the abbey despite having a full kitchen both have a small stashes of food in their rooms.

Ian *hates* having his hair cut so he lets it grow. In the abbey once it got to a certain point he was forced to have it cut. Once he gets out the others don’t really care what he does with his own hair so he grows it out. It gets pretty long.

Ian does end up growing quite a bit but still ends up being the shortest and coming up a little shorter then kai (who I also headcanon as short lol)

Tala ends up pursuing a law degree (I honestly have no idea why I think this, i just think it would be cool? I guess?)

The abbey was 100% training child soldiers. All the boys do know how to handle firearms and know survival training.

Bryan is the only one that uses those skills though, he is into bushcraft and camping. Uses it as a way to relax and get away from it all for a while.

Tala has crippling migraines when he gets too stressed. It's a result of experiments at the abbey. (Honestly this is born from the english dubs weird insertion of “cyber tala” haha)

Spencer is definitely the first to get a girlfriend, probably the first to get married and have kids too.

All the boys are pretty strong drinkers just cuz they tend to kick back and hang out with a few drinks a lot, that is except for tala who does not drink and the rare times he does he never drinks enough to get drunk. He hates the feeling of not being fully incontrol of himself. Bryan will drink whatever is on offer, Spencer prefers whisky and rum, ian is a beer guy.

All the boys are actually quite intelligent and pretty well read. Sergei prefers history,sealife and novels…..secretly loves trashy romance novels after mistakenly picking one up to read on the plane to a tournament. Ian switches it up, one week its dinosaurs the next its the history of rice cookers then greek mythology, he often goes down true crime rabbit holes. Byan is into mechanics and computer science, it was a bit unexpected but he ended up having a real knack for computers. Tala is into novels , phycological and thriller are the best kind but also ends up falling down the true crime rabbithole with ian.

All the boys grew up around other boys and around male guards/abbey workers. They only came into contact with women the rare times they were around civilians. They were brought up to be the perfect soldiers so they were never really were concerned with girls and really had no interest in them since they had a lot of other things to be doing.This left them a bit ignorant about girls once they got out of the abbey but it also meant that they never learnt a lot of sexist views, never seeing girls as weaker or anything like that. They did (and still do) have a bunch of toxic views that could be seen as toxic masculinity but they are things like “crying is weak” and being “being vulnerable is weak” but they also apply these views to women. Girls are just “other people”. It takes them a while to figure out romantic and sexual feelings are a thing after they left the abbey.

Also they all were thought to be self sufficient. They all know how to (kill and) cook food, sew and mend clothing, clean, do laundry ect. It was a bit of a culture shock when they found out that a lot of people can’t do all these things.

None of them can handle spice except Ian who loves spicy food. Often baits bryan into eating it with him. Often ends with ian enjoying his meal while bryan has tears streaming down his face desperately trying to prove he is tough and gasping the spice does not bother him at all.

Spencer is the most liked team member. He is the one often approached by other teams once they find out he is actually pretty friendly and polite. The first to figure this out is Mathilda who then spread the news. This annoys tala quite a bit since he is team leader and he has seen people ignore him and walk right over to spencer.

Ian isn’t actually into blading after leaving the abbey. He takes a while of trying to force himself to blade but he ends up just giving it up. he keeps his blade and bitbeast because they are still important to him, He turns the bit into a necklace cuz snakes are cool.

Both tala and bryan are a bit oblivious to flirting. Byan gets better at noticing when someone is flirting with him as he gets older and more social, even though he is a bit of a flirt himself he is often just being friendly. Flirting with tala is kinda like flirting with a brick wall, you gotta be as subtle as a hammer to get through. Romance is 100% not on his radar, Will often seem indifferent/ignore the person flirting with him, but inside is actually strangely flattered.

I often mix manga and anime together or sometimes pick and choose between them.

For example my bryan headcanon is he is like the anime ver until he gets out of the abbey then his personality changes (over about 2-3 years) to manga bryan. They are pretty different lol, manga byan is actually a really nice guy XD.

I also love both manga and anime tala, I love how much of a huge catty bitch he is in the anime but I love how feral he is in the manga. I tend to lean more towards manga when hes not blading but more anime when he is.

Both Ian and Spencer are hardly in either so a lot of my head cannon is just me making stuff up but also stuff that was often said as fanon in the early fandom days say about 2003-2010 . There were a lot of false things going around at that time that were treated like canon, like people thinking kai was half or full russian. (I still like that one tho)

#beyblade #yuriy ivanov #tala ivanov #tala valkov #bryan kuznetsov #boris kuznetsov #spencer petrov #ian papov #ivan papov #beyblade headcanons #beyblade g revolution #neoborg #demolition boys #blitzkrieg boys #Bakuten Shoot Beyblade #headcanon #rants

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ober-affen-geil · 2 years

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I have been saying I’m going to do it for ages and I’m using this event as an excuse to get it out there.

The thing is. Flint needs to go back and re-do his close combat training. Because he’s embarrassingly bad at it. But in a way that fits his character, so let’s get into that.

I have made a gifset before about Flint relying on guns/close proximity too much, but that wasn’t explicit about what I really wanted to dig into about a) why he’s just fucking dumb about how he uses guns and b) why and how this is a pattern with him.

So to address the first point:

Flint has a very bad habit of over-relying on using a pistol to control someone at close quarters. This has backfired on him technically 3 times and he has used it 4. Once with Alex in 1x12, once with Max in 2x12, once with Charlie in 2x12, and once (technically) with Michael in 2x11. With Michael it was really not a case of close quarters it was a case of “don’t bring a gun to a telekinesis fight lmao”, but it’s still relevant here and I’ll get into why in the second point.

With Max, Alex, and Charlie, they are all instances of Flint just getting too damn close with a weapon and expecting the fact that it was a gun to be “enough” to subdue the person he was trying to control. It worked on Charlie, who is a civilian as far as we know, but it DIDN’T work on Alex and Max who have both have firearms training and likely some amount of close combat training (Alex definitely does, Max not so sure).

ALSO relevant here is the time he got too close to Alex AGAIN and got taken the fuck out because he got angry and forgot he was dealing with a hostage with a relatively long chain and close combat experience. (More on this in point two.)

What I’m getting at here is, Flint should KNOW BETTER. He is letting the fact that he is holding a gun on someone outweigh the fact that he’s getting within REACH of people who know how to take it away from him.

Which gets to the second point:

This is consistent with his character. Flint is not exactly a “thinker” per se that’s why he’s in the Army lmao, most of his life he seems to get by on brute intimidation and force. And, to be honest and to bring out my favorite pet theory/headcanon, Flint likely learned this from Jesse. Or as a result of Jesse. However you want to phrase it. I talk about in this meta some of how I think Flint thinks related to his abuse by Jesse, but basically it comes down to the fact that his one parent figure ruled by fear. That’s what Flint knows.

In every instance that I’ve listed here, Flint caused his own defeat by underestimating his foe. With Michael he likely just did not anticipate telekinesis, to be fair, but both times with Alex and with Max he let his emotions get in the way of his training and got too close, and they got the drop on him.

I just think it’s an interesting way to show a consistent character flaw in a way that also helps drive plot, but I also do very much think Flint needs to get his ass thrown a few times on the training mat to get some sense knocked into him.

#flint manes #rnmmarchformeta2022 #tw child abuse #tw guns #a riley special #my roswell meta #roswell new mexico #rnm

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space-mermaid-writing · 3 years

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House Arrest [Loki X Reader] Chapter 2

Summary: You are Clint’s 'little' sister and actually a trained Shield agent. But you gave that up a few years ago and became a Chef, because you wanted a normal live. Then one day Natasha shows up at your door and takes you to the Avenger Tower for a while for security reasons.

Tags: Reader is an former Shield Agent, chef!reader, Reader Barton, 2012 Avenger vibes, everything is still alright, Slice of Life, Avengers Family, Loki has a good heart, still the god of mischief, Slow Burn, mention of food and cooking

Read it on AO3

Chapter 2: Not the new kitchen help

You can now call a cozy apartment with two rooms and a nice bathroom your own. You have stored your things in the bedroom and are now looking around the tower. The living rooms seem to be spread over several levels. Either there are really a lot of people living here or they tried to keep a little space to avoid stepping on each other's toes all the time. Living and working together can be quite a challenge for some people. The floors above consist - judging by the signs - of labs and various development rooms. Most of it is probably technical stuff, but some of the doors also have concerning warnings, and you don't want to spend your first day trying to figure out if they're genuine.

You find the outdoor platform with the big A and see, then it’s connected to some sort of party or lounge room. There are several couch sets and a rather nicely equipped bar. Overall, everything is very spacious and you're sure you can walk around here for a few days without anyone noticing your presence. At least once, you think you've lost your bearings for a moment, but then you find your way back to the elevators. On the other hand, there was surprisingly little going on up here.

All floors below the living area seem to be offices, at least the names of the elevator buttons suggest that. You don't feel like visiting them right now, because the exploration tour has left you pretty hungry. The last meal was also your breakfast this morning and now it's almost afternoon. So you look for the room that interests you the most anyway. And you find it near the lounge: a wonderfully large kitchen with fantastic equipment. You explore it with interest and notice that it‘s visibly little used. Among the people and other beings here, there seems to be no one enjoying cooking. Saving the world probably takes up enough of their time. As you open the refrigerator, a voice suddenly comes from somewhere, startling you briefly at first. "Good afternoon, Miss Barton. If you have any requests regarding the food or ingredients, please let me know." You look around, but can't see anyone. "My name is JARVIS," the voice explains. "I am an A.I. and I am available to assist you." "Uh-huh...hello," you merely reply, processing this information. Jarvis, meanwhile, continues talking. "Welcome to the Tower. The other Avenger members have been notified of your arrival in a memo." "Okay, thanks." It‘s a bit weird talking to a room, but apparently modern technology has already reached the next level here. Hearing nothing more, you start inspecting the contents of the refrigerator. The result is quite sobering. "It's all just fast foods," you grumble. "Would you like to suggest changes in the selection?", Jarvis asks. "Yes! Please and thank you." "You're welcome to make a shopping list, and I'll have everything ordered." Why not? Regardless of whether a computer can really do it, you nod. "Okay." "A personal tablet will be calibrated for you. You can pick it up from Mr. Banner."

A few minutes later you find yourself in the labs on the upper floors. The sterile lit hallway reminds you much more of Shield than the lower floors. You turn a corner and have to go down some stairs that lead you into a large room. Here, tables are jumbled with various types of modern computers and equipment. Further back is a robotic arm soldering a hard drive all by itself with a quiet whir. It’s a dream for any technology enthusiast. From one corner, you hear typing and beeping, followed by quiet murmurs. That's where you turn, looking at the whiteboards on the wall along the way, where complicated calculations and drawings could be seen. Then suddenly, right in front of you, a hologram appears in the air and you stop, rooted to the spot. "Oops!" "Oh, sorry." A head pops up from behind a nearby screen and you recognize Bruce Banner. His face is always shown on the news whenever there's been a shot of Hulk. But now you're more interested in the hologram as you take a closer look. It shows a nebulous, pulsating entity. "What is that?" you ask the scientist. "We got some cosmic stones. This was in one of them." "It's moving. Is it alive?" "Living would be an exaggeration, but there is energy present. My name is Dr. Banner, by the way." He reduzes the size the hologram so it's out of your way. "Barton, nice to meet you." "Clint's sister, I read the file. He never mentioned you though." "I didn't want any attention, but didn't quite work out, I guess." Bruce smiles sympathetically and reaches for a cup of tea, which, judging by his expression after the first sip, seems to be cold. You ask for the tablet you came for, and Bruce looks around searchingly. There are a few of them in the room, but the display of one lights up, drawing your attention. You see your name displayed and simply conclude that it's the right one. Briefly you say thank and goodbye, before you go back to your room and start making a shopping list. Please fresh ingredients and please deliver today.

Afterwards, you browse around a bit. The tablet, like every electronic device in the house, seems connected to the main computer and to Jarvis. You pull up a few files on your new housemates and read them curiously. At least the parts that are publicly available. You also take the opportunity to look for your own name. Because even though you know that your records were officially destroyed when you left, you know that no data is ever really gone. So you're almost surprised when you find only a few sentences about yourself and not even a photo. Mainly it was about your and Clint's entry into Shield at a young age as orphans. You had received a pretty good education, which may have also kept you from going off the rails. Besides hand-to-hand combat and firearms training, your specialty was handling knives, while your brother took up bows and arrows. For foreign missions, you had also had to learn various languages and had chosen the widely spoken Spanish and Russian. But you didn't work for Shield for a long time, instead opting out of your career early on. It just wasn't the life you wanted to lead. So you changed cities and mingled with the civilian population. And before you knew it, your talent with a knife led you into a traditional apprenticeship as a chef. You enjoyed this work more than having to fight to death, and you even expanded your knowledge and skills during a year abroad in France. But there is very little of all this in your records.

You set the tablet aside and stretch out on your new bed. Normally, you would be in full swing at work right now. A glance at the clock reveals that it's already early evening. Rush hour in most of the restaurants. But here? Without a task or a plan, there's not much you can do. On the other hand, a little vacation wouldn't hurt you.

At some point, the tablet gave a soft ping and when you checked, it was a notification that the refrigerator and all the pantries had been restocked. By now you are very hungry and you heard nothing about a joint dinner time, so you decide to cook yourself something. Out of sheer habit and to avoid getting your clothes dirty, you put on a chef's jacket and apron you brought from home and go into the kitchen. There's a radio in one corner that you turn on. Jarvis really did get everything you had asked for. It was a dream come true. Now in a much better mood, you grab a pan and get to work. From the freezer, you pull out a fish, which you gut and fill with fresh herbs. It goes into the pan first. Then it's the turn of the potatoes, which are peeled, boiled and rolled in rosemary.

You're so absorbed in your work - you've just poked a knife into the boiling potatoes to see if they're already done - that you don't notice a visitor, who had entered the kitchen at some point, until he makes himself known. "I'll have the course menu and a white wine to go with it." Somewhat confused, you look up as you hear the man's voice and see Tony Stark standing at the sideboard across from you. He notices your look and returns it with a smile. "I didn't realize we hired a new kitchen help." You frown and take a sharpening rod in your free hand to sharpen your knife while not taking your eyes off Tony. "Oh, I'm not a new kitchen help," you clarify. "I'm a chef." "Excuse me. Then would the chef please serve me the course menu and a white wine?" The trillionaire indicates a polite bow, but you merely turn to the stove and take the potatoes off it. You then retrieve a plate from the cupboard. "Jarvis", you direct your voice to the computer, hoping it’s still listening. "Would you please explain to Mr. Stark that I'm not here to cook for him and that he'll have to order his course menu, if he really wants one, from the Chinese place next door?" "Mr. Stark, I'm supposed to-." "I heard her, Jarvis," Tony interrupts the A.I., eyeing you a little more closely now. "That does make me wonder what you're doing here, Miss...? Aside from the fact that there's no Chinese working next door." "Then you should make one move in there," you replay amused. As you do, you wipe your fingers on the cloth you've hung on the apron at your hip and prep your dish. Just as Tony is about to say something clever, the door opens and another person walks in. You recognize Thor at first glance. "What's that delicious smell in the air?", he asks, looking around curiously. You smile and point to the stove. "I was just cooking. There's still some left for you to take." With that, you want to go to your room, but Tony stops you. "Oh, he gets something, but I don't?", he complains. You shrug your shoulders. "He didn't want a whole menu." With that, you disappear through the door and go back to your living quarters. There you quickly change into something comfy and make yourself comfortable on the couch, where you watch an episode of your favorite show while you eat. A little company would be nice, but you don't feel like meeting more people you don't know yet. And you don't feel like searching for Natasha in this huge complex. So you’re fine with being by your own right own.

After dinner, you continue watching the show, but eventually you realize you're getting tired. It really had been an eventful and long day. So you quickly take your dirty dishes back to the kitchen. But just as you're closing the dishwasher, Tony comes back in and leans against the frame with his arms crossed. "So… you‘re a Barton." Apparently he had spent a few minutes of his precious time gathering information about you and then waited for you to reappear. "Surprised there's another one?" you ask with a smirk. He takes that as a sign that you're not holding a grudge against him. He pushes himself off the door frame and comes closer, now leaning his arms on the kitchen island. "Nothing about Legolas surprises me anymore. Met his wife and kids the other day. Nice family. Are you guys a whole circus?" "Not anymore." You shrug. "So, what’s your deal?", he wants to know. "You left Shield in your early twenties. What's normal life like out there? No one waiting for you to come home?" You turn on the dishwasher and grab a water bottle from the supply. "Life is nice. Often stressful, but I have to worry a lot less about getting killed." You don't answer Tony's last question. It's really none of his business. "That is when you're not being yanked out of that life and brought into the house of superheroes", you add. "You'll get used to it. Both that we're super and that we're heroes. I promise." You laugh at his words. Tony seems to be a real egocentric, but also a humorous person. "Well, let's see", you reply, "Now if the welcome speech is over, I'd like to go to bed." "I won't keep anyone away from their beauty sleep. Good night." You wish him the same, then head back to your room, where you make yourself comfortable on the large bed. The strange surroundings were unfamiliar, but not you don't feel uncomfortable and so you soon fall asleep.

#Loki #Loki x Reader #House Arrest #Chapter 1 #my writing #Clint #clint barton #hawkeye #loki laufeyson #imagine #chef reader #mcu #marvel

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berriusagi · 3 years

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Stomach Bug Ch7

Family Bonding: Jason

It’s my birthday so thought I’d give everyone this chapter early! I hope you all enjoy it I look forward to any comments or suggestions you have for the future chapters.

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.

If anyone was to ask Marinette how she found herself standing in a private gun range with a heavy pistol in hand aimed downrange at a cardboard cutout of a deranged clown she would have no idea how to answer. Jason was standing behind her leaning down to show her how to properly aim, fixing her grip and stance before holding her shoulders.

“Alright Pixie whenever you’re ready just pull the trigger.” Jason nodded straightening up once he was sure she was ready.

Marinette nodded, taking a slow deep breath before pulling the trigger. A loud bang sounded through the room as Marinette gently set the gun down. She turned looking up at Jason as she took her earplugs out. “How’d I do?” she asked.

Jason hummed squinting his eyes trying to see, “I don’t know if you hit it,” he said, stepping around to walk on the range to get a better look at the cutout. “Yeah sorry pixie doesn’t look like you hit it,” he shouted heading back to stand behind her.

“I told you I’m not that familiar with guns. It's next to impossible to get a gun let alone shoot one in Paris.” Marinette said putting her ear plus back in as Jason picked the gun up.

“That’s why I’ll teach you to shoot,” Jason grinned, fixing his safety glasses before unloading the clip into the cutout. Marinette watched as small groupings gathered around the forehead, heart, and groin. “It just takes a bit of practice and a steady hand and you’ll be a natural in no time.” He smiled as he fired the last bullet before setting the gun down.

“I’m just not sure if guns are my thing,” Marinette said as Jason walked onto the range again to pick up the cut out and bring it back so they could examine the groupings, “I never took an interest in firearms, though most weapons are illegal in Paris.”

“Really? What about self-defense?” Jason asked looking down at Marinette.

“Most people would have pepper spray but it had to be less than 100 milliliters.” She shrugged, “I usually had a small can in my purse just in case luckily I only ever had to use it once.”

“Oh?” he asked, raising an eyebrow, “What happened to make you do that?”

“The heroes back home were sociable. Ladybug would give interviews and Chat Noir liked to joke with the public. Chat made a habit of dropping by my room to hang out and just talk; sometimes it was just chilling, other times he wanted advice. He was a great guy really it helped break up the routine you know.” She smiled leaning on the wall, helping Jason load bullets into the clips, “Eventually he started just coming into my room through my skylight and hung out on my chaise lounge until I got home if I wasn’t there.”

“That’s a red flag if I ever saw one,” Jason muttered, setting a clip down.

“Yeah well, I was lonely at the time my class was shunning me so any social interaction was a welcomed one. I didn’t mind though I did find it annoying when he’d try and bug me to get into Ladybug’s good graces.” She sighed rolling her eyes, “I managed to set up an interview with Ladybug for one of my ex-friends and Chat thought we were such good friends so I could put in a good word for him. I told him I wouldn’t and that Ladybug probably just wasn’t interested and he should respect that.”

“I’m guessing no one ever taught him to take no for an answer?” Jason asked looking over at Marinette as she just shrugged.

“I guess, he had it stuck in his head that he and Ladybug were soulmates because of their miraculous’ no matter how many times I or Ladybug explained that it didn’t work like that. Everything came to a head after the fall of Hawkmoth. He was publicly revealed along with Mayura, his partner, both were arrested and their families suffered from the fallout.” She set down her finished clip and crossed her arms over her chest, “Chat Noir paid me a visit about a month or so after, he… he wasn’t looking too good.”

Jason set down the gun he was working on and moved to stand beside Marinette placing a comforting hand on her shoulder.

“I told you he had a habit of just coming into my room to wait for me,” she said her voice going a bit soft as she glanced up at Jason, “My room was a converted attic space with a balcony that you access through the skylight. To get into my room you climbed a ladder and entered through a trapdoor, it’s a good space for privacy but it’s not so great if you have to escape.”

Jason tightened his hold on her gently pulling her into his side rubbing her back arm.

“When I came up I saw my skylight was open so Chat had to be in there but I didn’t see him, that made me a little worried but I chose not to listen to it and came up anyway. Once I was fully in he closed the door and trapped me inside, he… he looked different less… stable his eyes, which normally because of the Miraculous were a toxic green, looked bloodshot like he’d been crying. He wasn’t moving with the same playful easy steps he looked unbalanced. Everything just felt wrong like this wasn’t going to end well.”

“I reached for the pepper spray I keep in my bag and had it at the ready just in case and I tried talking to him. I asked him what was wrong, I asked him why he looked so unsettled, I tried just talking to him to get a response, but he wouldn’t even look in my direction. It was like it pained him to even look at me. Eventually, he did look at me and he was just crying, he was apologizing over and over and his words made no sense. I was terrified. He made me feel like he was going to do something awful. It was like he wasn’t anything like the same person.”

Jason slid down the wall to be eye level with Marinette squeezing a bit tighter to give her comfort as she tried to find the words to continue.

“He looked at me, no he looked through me it felt like and just lunged at me. I was so scared I just sprayed him without thinking and quickly jumped out of the way. I remember hearing him scream in pain and rubbing at his eyes as he cried. It’s burned into my memory he looked at me with such pain and sorrow on his face I felt awful for what I did. The pepper spray just fell from my hands and without thinking I grabbed a scrap of fabric and some water and started to clean his face. I just couldn’t stand and watch him suffer.”

“You’re better than most Pixie,” Jason muttered, patting her shoulder.

“Chat revealed himself,” She said before quickly rushing to correct herself when she felt Jason’s body tense, “Not like that! I mean he took off the mask he showed me who his civilian self was. He dropped the transformation and revealed himself to be a boy I knew quite well and he was the son of Hawkmoth. It made so much sense then, he… he was suffering so much having to fight a war against his father. Then when the war is over he still has to fight to prove his own innocents, it had to have just been too much.”

“He took off his miraculous and gave it to me, told me to give it to Ladybug. He didn’t think Ladybug would want anything to do with him if she saw who he was. If she knew he was the son of the man they were trying to take down, he said it would break him worse to see her hate him or worse pity him.”

“So he gave his miraculous to you, someone who has some connection to Ladybug, to get it somewhere safe.” Jason hummed leaning his head back against the wall, “How is he doing?”

“A few weeks later he left Paris and moved in with his aunt and cousin. He was a good guy just mixed up with the wrong people, he was very sheltered and was raised to be seen not heard. I debate some days on reaching out to him, seeing how he’s doing, maybe catch up and rebuild the friendship we had. He’s dating one of my friends and she occasionally gives me updates about him that she thinks I need to know.”

“Well, Pixie if you ask me I say shoot him a text. He trusted you enough to unmask himself and show his most vulnerable side to you. If there’s one thing I know is that you keep those loyal to you close, I don’t know the full story with this guy. He might have hurt you, he might not have but he came to you at his weakest and trusted you enough to help him.” He said straightening up and pulled her into a firm hug, “I know you’ll make the right choice for you, I feel like you got a good handle on making the right choices.”

“Thanks, Jay,” she smiled hugging him back, “You have any other guns we can shoot, maybe I’m just not good with handguns.”

“I like the way you think Pixie.” He grinned pushing off the wall and went over to the gun cabinet opening it wide for her to see the array of handguns, rifles, and shotguns for them to choose from, “Alright pixie, pick your poison.”

~.~.~.~

“You make absolutely no sense you know that right Pixie?” Jason asked watching as Marinette grinned up at him after landing a headshot on another deranged clown cut out with the shotgun. “I mean the kickback alone on that thing should be sending you back.” He said as Marinette set the gun down giggling at Jason’s confusion.

“Well with shotgun it doesn’t have to be as accurate right?” she asked, rubbing her shoulder, “It’s scattershot so it makes it more forgiving.”

“I guess but let’s call it on that before you bust up your shoulder or bruise it.” He said taking the shotgun storing it away in the gun cabinet as Alfred came in to check on them.

“Master Jason, Miss Marinette are you two having fun?” Alfred asked, noticing all the empty shells on the floor.

“Yeah, Jason just showed me how to shoot a shotgun.” Marinette smiled, “Though my shoulder is a bit sore now.” She said rubbing it a bit harder wincing at the deep ache.

“Perhaps you two should call it quits for today and do something less… explosive.” Alfred offered, “All this gunfire can’t be good for the baby let alone quiet. I heard the shotgun from the other side of the manor.” He added before leaving.

“Well,” Jason hummed, closing the cabinet, “We should run.” He grinned picking Marinette up and broke into a dead sprint out of the gun range and through the winding halls. Marinette held on tightly a surprised shout echoing through the halls as he skidded around a corner before running for the other side of the manor.

“Just how big is this place?” Marinette asked looking around wide-eyed as they raced through the halls.

“I don’t know but I’m like 80 percent sure if someone broke in here it’d take them a week to find their way out.” Jason joked as he slowed down to a large set of double doors gently pushing the doors open before closing them tightly behind him before gently setting Marinette down on her feet, “We should be safe here for a little while though at least until Alfred comes to find us for dinner.”

“Where is here?” Marinette asked looking around a soft gasp coming from her mouth as she saw all the books lining the shelves.

“Welcome to my favorite place, the Wayne Manor Library.” Jason smiled walking to one of the shelves and plucked a book off before finding a comfortable plush chair to relax in, “Have a look around, find something to read, or if you want there are puzzles and board games in that cabinet over there.” He added motioning to a cabinet in the corner.

Marinette wandered around the shelves looking over the books, she noticed some were much more loved than others as they have visible use while others looked to be brand new. She eventually settled on a well-loved adventure book and carried it back over to the chairs and took a seat near Jason as she curled up to read.

The following few hours were much calmer than the previous bonding activity, instead of a loud bang to hurt the ears there were jokes and laughs about the antics the protagonists in their books got up to. Marinette smiled from her position lying upside down on the chair with her head hanging off as she read lines from her book.

“Before you leave Gabriel may I offer you some key advice before you go to visit the Sirodanes?” Marinette spoke her voice lowered and accented to sound like a Viking man, “Take a larger cart they value strength as well.” she finished before bursting into giggles.

“So wait,” Jason chuckled looking over at her, “Gabriel and Eclipse are leaving the Vryhuns with a big cart just full of presents, and the Thane is telling them they need a bigger one?” he smiled.

“Yeah from what I gathered the Vryhun are really big on strength and bravery which Eclipse had in spades so everyone was trying to court her, so they all gave her presents. It’s rude to just turn them down or throw them away so instead they’re taking them with them.” Marinette giggled sitting up and closed the book setting it aside, “Though if the Sirodanes are the same I feel a bit sorry for Eclipse she’ll never get any peace from the suitors.”

“I don’t know, maybe she likes the attention I mean, she stuck around Gabriel and all he seems to do is fawn over her and shower her in praise.” Jason said, closing his book and set it aside, “Who’s to say she isn’t using all these presents to make Gabriel jealous.” He grinned, wiggling his eyebrow.

“Oh what a semi-immortal woman can’t hang around an eccentric man who is determined to explore some hidden islands in the middle of uncharted waters?” Marinette asked, raising an eyebrow, “Not everyone has to date you know, and besides I don’t think Gabriel could handle Eclipse in a romantic setting.”

“Eh you got me there she seems really dominant.” Jason chuckled leaning back in his seat, “Though which did you like more sitting here reading or shooting?”

“Hmm I like both; this was a nice way to wind down after the shooting and I got to find a new book series to read.” She smiled looking at the book, “Do you have the others?”

“Probably unless the author is still working on them.” He shrugged, getting up from his seat and grabbing his books, going over to the shelves to put them away. Marinette relaxed in her chair taking a deep breath as she sunk into the plush cushions further the calm and quiet helping to lull her into a semi-conscious state.

Jason came back after a while noticing Marinette barely awake and smiled grabbing a blanket and set it over her before taking his seat again and picked up another book nearby to keep reading. The library fell into a soft silence with only Marinette’s gentle breathing and the occasional rustle of paper as Jason turned the pages.

~.~.~.~

“Now tell me why you thought it would be wise to leave Todd alone with Marinette.” Damian grit out through clenched teeth as he gripped his sword tightly. “In what world is it ever a smart idea to leave Todd alone with anyone?” he growled.

“Now it can’t be that bad Little D.,” Dick said, keeping his hands up in a calming manner as Tim stayed behind him, “I’m sure everything is okay.”

“We all heard the shotgun, Grayson.” Damian snapped, advancing only stopped by a loud clearing of the throat.

All three turned and looked at Alfred standing in the doorway, “Master Damian please refrain from causing your brother’s bodily harm in the house, blood is quite hard to get out of antique rugs.” He said looking at Damian as he lowered his sword still glaring at the other two, “Now I’ve come to inform you that Miss. Marinette and Master Jason have vacated the gun range. I do believe they are now hiding out in the library so rest assured they are no longer doing any dangerous activities.”

“Thank you, Alfred.” Tim nodded as Damian visibly relaxed knowing Marinette was no longer alone with Jason and firearms.

“Now I must go begin preparations for dinner, please do try to not harm each other.” Alfred nodded before making his way out of the room and down to the kitchen.

Once Alfred was far away Damian looked over at his two brothers with a cold death glare, “If anything is out of place on Marinette thanks to you allowing her to be alone with Jason unsupervised for hours. I will make it my life’s goal to make you regret ever entering this manor.”

“She’s fine Jason isn’t that bad,” Dick said, trying to calm Damian down.

“He cut Tim’s throat.” He snapped.

“It was an accident!” Tim shouted before getting a pained expression, “Maybe, look, it was house rules not to bring up shared traumas.” He glared.

“Okay, how about we all calm down and go to the library and just see how everything is doing? What could they possibly do in the library but read or play a card game.” Dick said trying to placate his two youngest brothers.

“Fine.” Damian glared putting his sword away stalking out of the room.

Dick and Tim exchanged glances before following behind him keeping a few paced behind to not receive his wrath once more. They silently made their way through the halls until coming to the double doors of the library. Damian pushed the doors open looking around until his eyes landed on Marinette curled up in a chair with a blanket over her and Jason seated near her reading.

Jason looked up and waved at them putting his book aside, “Hey guys Pixie’s just taking a quick nap.” He smiled keeping his voice low.

“Todd, care to explain why we heard gunshots.” Damian glared as he quickly headed for Marinette.

“Hmm could be because I showed her how to shoot.” Jason shrugged grinning wide, “She’s a natural, she shot Joker's head off like three times.” he chuckled.

“You let her use the shotgun?!” Dick gasped looking horrified, “Jason she is five foot and pregnant what made you think that was a good idea?” he hissed.

“Can you all keep it down?” Marinette groaned, blinking her eyes open, “this is a library.”

“Habibti, are you okay? You’re not bruised or burned anywhere right?” Damian asked, trying to look her over.

“I’m fine Dami, just a sore shoulder but I’ll live.” She yawned shifting around to sit up properly, “It was a lot of fun but don’t know if I’ll keep up shooting it’s really loud.” she hummed.

“How about you do not do any more shooting until after the baby is born and you’re all healed up,” Damian said sitting in the chair with Marinette pulling her to sit across his lap.

“Fine no more guns,” Marinette giggled rolling her eyes as she rested her head on his shoulder. Damian nodded content with that and relaxed back in the chair. They all fell into comfortable chatter talking about what they were all getting up to; however, it felt more like an interrogation for Jason about just what he was having Marinette shoot.

Marinette watched on in amusement as the three eldest seemed ready to go to war over letting her shoot some guns. All too soon the library doors opened as Alfred entered calling their attention, “Dinner is ready young masters.” He said bowing before exiting the room making his way down to the kitchen.

“Well, I think today has been a lot of fun.” Marinette smiled climbing out of Damian's lap stretching her back out, “I might actually get a good night's sleep tonight.” She added before she made her way out of the library the boys following behind her like overgrown ducklings. Soon everyone was taking their seats at the table and settled in to enjoy their dinner.

Everyone was eating and having fun chatting about different topics, Jason couldn’t stop talking about Marinette’s skill with a shotgun, Dick had to make sure he praised her on her flexibility, and Tim just noted her keen eyes and how perceptive she was. Marinette blushed and smiled at all the praise trying to deflect as much as possible. At some point Bruce had snuck in and watched all the children eat and share stories, he smiled softly just enjoying the chatter and pleasant atmosphere.

All too soon dinner was over and everyone was going their separate ways for their evening routines, Marinette made her way to Damian’s room and gathered her clothes before heading in to take a shower. She set her clothes down on the counter as Tikki reappeared stretching out as she layout on top of Marinette’s pajamas.

“Sorry to keep you locked up all day,” she said as she turned the shower on and waited for the water to warm up, “We can’t risk the others seeing you.”

“I know Marinette at least now I can stretch out and relax.” Tikki hummed relaxing on the soft fabric, “when you bake in the morning can I get white chocolate chip macadamia nut cookies?” she asked looking up at Marinette.

“If they have the ingredients to make it then yes,” Marinette smiled and hopped into the shower to clean up from the day taking her time to gently wash her hair and scrub off all the sweat and grime from the day. Once she was cleaned and wrapped up in a fluffy bathrobe she was nearly asleep on her feet as she took her time to blow dry her hair until it fell in gentle waves down her back.

Tikki had fallen asleep during Marinette’s shower so she gently picked her up and set her down on a few folded towels so she could get dressed. Marinette gathered Tikki up and carried her out to her purse and gently laid her down placing a handkerchief over her like a blanket before gently kissing her forehead and moved to lie in bed and get some much-needed sleep.

Damian came in not long after Marinette had turned in for the night and smiled before going about his own evening routine and climbed into bed giving her a gentle kiss on the forehead before laying back pulling her to his chest as he fell asleep.

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.

@myazael @beautiful-disasters-sunshine @moonlightstar64 @moonlitceleste @stainedglassm @casual-darkness @mochegato @ultimatetornshipper @heemsanddamemes @nathleigh @qualitypeacepainter @raven-frost-21 @maskedpainter @demonicbusiness @dood-space @trippingovermyfeet @emimar7 @indecisive-mess-named-me @changelinggarden @zerotosiki @alysrose-starchild @s-and-n @wolf2118 @athena452 @jjmjjktth @eliza-bich @solangelo252

#daminette #damianette #damidad #mominette #maribat #maridami #ml x dc #teen pregnancy #stomach bug

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whump-a-la-mode · 3 years

Text

Escape: Part 2

This is a bit different from what I usually do. @equestrianwritingsstuff recently posted a one-off piece, and I got a little bit obsessed with it. So, with her permission, this is a continuation! The original post can be found here.

Summary: After being captured and forced into a torturous reform program, Villain attempts escape-- but throws it all away to save the life of his foe.

CW//Attempted conditioning, denial of food, denial of water, intentional self injury, broken glass, blood, mentions of car crashes, collars, chains, firearms, attempted murder

“Okay.” The sigh was sharp, enough so to make Villain bite their own tongue in apprehension. “Let’s try another one.”

Nosey shuffled through the stack of papers piled before them on the desk. Villain glanced down at the pile-- noting its sheer height. He wasn’t expected to go through all those, right? No, that would certainly take all night.

“Here.” The hero before him settled on one of the pages, picking it up. “This one should be easy.”

Villain muttered something under his breath, laden with swears and insults.

“What was that?”

“Nothing.”

“Mhm.” A haughty exhale. “Here. If you get this one on the first try, you can go back to your cell and... I don’t know, do whatever it is you do. I’m tired of looking at your face.”

Back to his cell. That made Villain perk up, nearly straining against the cuffs holding him firmly to the table.

“Okay, let’s just get this over with. Here’s the scenario. You’re walking along the street, and you see someone hit by a car. The car does not stop, and the victim is thrown onto the sidewalk in front of you. They are clearly alive, but severely injured. Do you:

A: Use your healing powers to treat their injuries.

B: Search the surrounding area for a civilian with medical training

C: Contact the Heroic Civilian Treatment Team to take the victim to hospital.”

“Um...”

Villain felt the hairs on the back of his neck stick up, despite being half wetted down with sweat.

If someone had been struck by a vehicle, the obvious answer would be to help them as quickly as possible. As soon as injuries like that were inflicted, the clock was already ticking.

The heroes were terribly resistant to him using his powers in any situation-- that was somewhat the whole point of the Villain Containment Practices. But in this case, it would certainly be an exception, right? Their whole job was supposed to be protecting life.

“Uh- I- I think A.” He at last croaked out. “Use my healing powers to stabilize them, then find a civilian doctor to get them to the hospital.”

Nosey sighed.

“A situation like this should always be deferred to us. Using your powers is never the answer.”

They placed down the paper, hastily rearranging the messy stack of them.

“Let’s go back to the gym. I’ll let you off with ten laps, this time.”

Villain gulped, phlegm sliding down a dry throat, as a pair of guards advanced to untie him from the table.

“C- Can I have some water? Please?”

“You’ve already lost your food privileges for the day. Do you really want to lose your water, too? You get water once you’ve earned it. For now, we’re going to the gym.

At this rate, maybe you should just become a permanent resident in our program.”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

The glass was mocking them.

Villain was certain of that, even as he kneeled on his cot of a bed, half delirious, half exhausted.

The glass of water sat on a small table at the bed’s end. Just a glass, hardly even filled halfway. Haphazardly placed under a faucet for a few moments without thought.

He knew he had to drink it. He didn’t have much of a choice. Tomorrow would only bring more questions, more laps, more push-ups, more lectures. It would be terrible, certainly, but the small amount of liquid would make it at least the tiniest bit more bearable. Give him the tiniest bit more strength.

It was all he had. He’d spent the day watching his classmates-- that’s what the heroes called them, they were fellow prisoners, at best-- eating their meals, while he sat at an empty table.

Just because he had started a fight didn’t mean he should have to starve. Besides, they had it coming. Stuck up ass.

Villain frowned, cracked and dry lips sticking together, and reached forth to pick up the glass.

He needed to drink it, but as soon as he did, it would be gone. He would have to earn the next few drops through countless tears and buckets of sweat. At the very least, right now, he had control. He had a choice.

Not a very good one, but...

When had he gotten to this point? Having a crisis in a barren room over a half-glass of water? He was supposed to be a villain. Others were supposed to fear him.

Besides...

Villain’s hand shook, water sloshing, even as he was careful not to lose a single, precious drop.

He didn’t know how much longer he could survive like this. Endless exercise, endless questions. Maybe they would never let him out. Maybe they wanted him to die here. Hell, they probably wanted him to die here. One less problem, drained of strength until they no longer had enough to breathe.

This was one long, drawn out execution. Even if it wasn’t, he could hardly imagine a situation in which they allowed his parting. In which they considered him at long last “reformed.”

Villain had to leave. He had to. He was leaving here either in a glorious escape, or in a body bag. Or, worse: In a hero’s uniform.

He downed the water, feeling the heavenly moisture fill his throat. It was the best thing he had ever tasted, despite the fact that water had no taste to it.

It was far less pleasant than what would come next. He knew from unfortunate experience that there were only two things that could get him out of this cell: Going to ‘class,’ or having an emergency.

The first wouldn’t work.

There was no camera in the room, he had searched long and hard to confirm that fact. At the very least, he didn’t have to do much in the way of acting. Not yet.

He swung his unsteady legs over the edge of the bed, standing, stumbling halfway to the end table.

Before throwing the glass to the floor.

It was a miracle, that the heroes allowed him glass dishware. The cup exploded, a thousand shining pieces scattering about the floor.

Now, for the unpleasant part.

Villain gritted his teeth, throwing himself onto the broken glass, ensuring that it dug into his flesh, his legs and his palms. At the very least, his screams were genuine.

“Help! Help!” He wailed. “I’m hurt! Help, please help! Oh god, that’s my blood, oh god oh god...”

There was no camera in the room, but the door was plenty thin, and in this facility, screams carried far. To ensure this, he let out a few more cries, carrying them on until the door lock was frantically turned, the door thrown open on its hinges.

Hero’s inhale was quick enough that she nearly started choking on her own breath.

“V-Villain, oh god, that’s- That’s your blood?”

Of course it was, dimwit. It was flooding from his skin, wasn’t it?

“Y- Yes. I tripped, um, oh god, oh...”

The swaying and slurring of his words were not pretend, either. Dehydration and hunger made sure of that.

“Can you walk?” How was there so much concern in her tone?

“Don’t know.”

“We need to try. I can carry you, but- We need to get to the infirmary.”

The hero hurried to their foe’s side, arms under his shoulders helping him to his feet. He could walk on his own, not well, but he could-- though Hero had no need to know that.

“Okay.”

“It’s a pretty long walk. We can take it slow, okay?”

“Yeah.”

That was exactly what they did. Their movements were so painfully slow that at times Villain wondered whether or not they were moving at all, but, after some time, they did cover some distance. The few people awake at such an hour steered clear, seeing a villain covered in blood and wanting nothing to do with it in the slightest.

The infirmary was on the bottom floor, Villain had seen it on his way in, making note of its placement. Of course, Hero wasn’t about to make him struggle down all those stairs. No. She went straight for the elevator, stepping into the isolated box with her foe and letting the doors closed.

This was it. The elevator ride would only last a few moments-- it was now or never.

As subtly as he possibly could, Villain placed his hand upon his injured leg, the minty thrum of healing powers knitting together the slices. Though, it did nothing to dry the blood that had already seeped out.

He was healed, and Hero was alone. Trapped.

By all accounts, it was a fight that Villain should have lost. He was exhausted, stomach left empty for far too long, and veins severely lacking in blood. Hero had the benefit of being well-fed, well-rested, all of it.

But that explanation left out one thing.

Villain was desperate.

He watched the small, digital screen count down the floors.

4...

3...

2...

Now!

The strike may not have been powerful, but it was aided by the sheer speed at what it was launched. Villain’s fist collided with Hero’s temple, knocking her sideways, stumbling. He wasted not a millisecond in preparing his next strike, hearing the crack of a cheekbone beneath his knuckles.

Hero let out a cry, holding her face where a bruise would certainly bloom in the hour. Limbs still soaked in scarlet, Villain swung out with his leg, catching Hero in the knee, sending her to the elevator floor with a hollow crash.

The elevator doors opened.

It was the fastest Villain had ever run in his life, he was certain of that. His legs were little more than blurs of red as he sprinted forth, tearing through a lobby that was nearly barren. An infinitesimal distance between him and freedom.

“Oh no you don’t!”

His legs came out from under him, his face striking the tile floor, almost certainly giving him an identical blessure to Hero.

The voice-- it was Nosey’s stupid, avian squawk. And, too, their polished boot struck Villain’s back.

“You really thought it’d be that easy?”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

The metal chafed horribly against Villain’s neck, somehow making his throat’s desiccation more acute. He laid his head against the thin carpet, spine aching terribly. The movement shifted the chain latched onto his collar, the slight clinking noise making his heartbeat stutter.

Tied up like a dog.

“Is this really necessary?” He grumbled, shifting himself to a sitting position, gazing upwards.

To Hero’s bed. Her legs dangled off the side of the mattress, hands gripped into fists around gathered bedsheets.

“We’ve been over this. That cell was a privilege, and you’ve lost it.”

“And so you chain me to the wall like a dog.”

“Exactly. You need to be under my direct supervision.”

“Yeah, whatever. Did you really have to stick this stupid collar on me?”

“I’m no happier about this than you are. But I’m not giving you free reign of my bedroom. You already tried to kill me once tonight.”

“I wasn’t trying to kill you.”

“Whatever. Unlike you, I actually have things to do in the morning. So, if you would please let me sleep?”

“Maybe.”

“Maybe?”

“If you do something for me first.”

“You are in the worst possible position to make demands, right now.”

Villain’s sigh tore at his throat.

“I just want some water.”

“Just that? Wait. You’re not going to smash the glass again, are you? I’m way too tired for that nonsense a second time tonight.”

“Just don’t put the water in a glass, then.”

“You actually just want water?”

“Yes.” He added rather pathetically. “Please?”

“I... Fine. Then you’ll let me sleep?”

“Mhm.”

“Fine.”

Hero stood, glancing suspiciously at her captive as she made her way across the room. As if he could do anything-- the chain was maybe three feet in length. He could barely lay his head down.

She maneuvered to her kitchenette, returning with a plastic cup-- filled to the brim with that precious liquid. She placed it before him. He was already drooling.

“That’s it?”

“Yes.”

“Okay. Goodnight, Villain.”

“Goodnight.”

Was that really all it took to domesticate him? A glass of water? It hardly mattered. As soon as Hero turned off the light, bathing the room in shadow, Villain downed the liquid as though his life depended on it.

Perhaps, it did.

It wasn’t long before Hero’s steady breathing had turned to soft snoring. Villain shifted himself into the most comfortable position he could manage. Even that, however, was far from being pleasant, with the chain threatening to strangle him at any moment.

That wasn’t what kept him from sleeping, however. He needed to sleep. He knew that, he wasn’t stupid. He would need his energy for the next day of lessons, of shouted orders and lectures.

That was all his life would be from now on, wouldn’t it? Orders and exhaustion and being forced to earn the most basic of needs by answering moral quandaries incorrectly.

Villain wanted, longed, to cry. To let out all the horrible emotions that had stuck in his chest cavity, threatening to drown his lungs in sorrow. But that would break the conditions of the deal.

He had to be quiet, or else he might never again be allowed water.

It was that dread in his chest, that hopelessness, that forced him awake.

So, he laid, still, listening to Hero’s snores as his own body refused to allow him unconsciousness.

Snores, and...

Footsteps.

Footsteps? Villain tensed, holding stock still, pricking his ears for the noise. They drew louder, louder, before stopping. Stopping outside the dorm room door.

He held his breath.

The door opened gently enough that the hinges made only the slightest noise. Then, the footsteps were inside.

Villain shrunk down in the corner, making himself far smaller and quieter than anyone of his status should ever have had to be.

Two sets of footsteps. Growing louder, coming towards the bedroom. The bed.

Hero.

“Are you sure we need to do this?” An unknown voice, whispering.

“If you want this plan to work, we don’t have a choice.”

That voice, that voice was not unknown. It was loud, terribly high pitched, terribly-

Nosey.

“We really have to kill them?”

“We won’t get the chance if you keep talking. Just do it, don’t chicken out on me, now.”

“Okay, okay.”

Villain’s heartbeat shivered.

The cocking of a gun. That horrible sound, that precursor of bloodshed.

Then, the shot. Two pairs of footsteps, fleeing, slamming the door behind themselves.

Villain gulped.

It was no doubt what had happened-- if he had had any doubts, they were quickly drowned out as Hero’s breathing hitched, then quieted to an almost imperceptible level. Growing slower, weaker by the second.

They are clearly alive, but severely injured.

In the scenario, he had had three choices. But this wasn’t a training scenario.

Now, he only had two.

A: Praise his lucky stars and use the opportunity to escape. There was a fire escape, just outside the window. He would be gone into the night before anyone knew any different.

Or...

B: Do the right thing.

Villain threw himself against the chain about his neck, collar threatening to cut off his airways. He spun about, gripping the chain in clammy fingers, pulling and tugging and-

Her breathing was getting quieter, weaker.

He pulled harder, muscles straining with the effort. The chain was anchored to the wall with a spike, drilled in. There was no way he could break the chain, no way he could break the spike, but-

Villain’s heel slammed through the plaster and drywall, chain flying backwards at his face. He hardly made note of it. Spike and chain and all dragging behind him, he tore to Hero’s bedside.

It was almost fortunate, that the lights were off. He couldn’t see the extent of the wounds.

He placed his hands upon her head, that minty feeling rushing to his fingers, his palms, her skin.

Using your powers is never the answer.

No. No, that wasn’t true.

Rules didn’t matter. Training didn’t matter. All that mattered was doing the right thing.

#villain whumpee #hero villain whump #conditioned whumpee #whump community #whump

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guiltgoreglory · 3 years

Text

Heat Waves (Chapter 1: A Warm Welcome)

(Very) Brief Summary: Reader is a government contractor joining the team in Benghazi. (Eventual Tanto x Reader) (2,684 words)

Chapter 2

Foreword: In this series, the reader will be loosely based off of Nikita from the TV show Nikita (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Nikita_(TV_series)). The reader has an extensive background in black-ops and is currently an independent contractor working with the department of defense in coordination with the executive branch. If you have any questions about the character, feel free to reach out to me and I can clarify. The story will generally follow the plot of the movie with the exception of a few scenes. Lastly, the POV will shift throughout the story, a change in POV will be signaled by a line.

Author’s Note: Hey guys! I have a full plot already set up but it has been a long time since I’ve written a fic. I’m so sorry if the writing is kinda shitty but I really wanted to get it down in writing. I hope you like it!

You closed your eyes and rested your head against the headrest, trying to find an ounce of comfort in the cramped seat. The dull hum of the plane was cut through by various murmurs amongst the travelers. After a minute or two, you deemed the effort fruitless, letting out a frustrated sigh. Instead, you opened your eyes and looked out the window, watching as the monotonous view trailed by. For the next several weeks, maybe even months, you’d once again become acclimated to discomfort. This shitty seat is probably as good as it gets, you thought. The department will likely have you shacked up in some storage closet on a grimy 20-year-old cot. You have had worse and at least you’d be occupied.

Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed Silva shift. You turned, watching him from a row back, across the aisle. He grimaced as he took off his wedding ring, putting it into a small metal container. He didn’t appear to notice your gaze as you turned your attention back to the window, the heat already radiating in. You felt sorry for him. Leaving people behind is never easy, especially kids. Luckily, you didn’t have that problem.

As the plane began its descent you skimmed the team comp in your head. You’d been thoroughly briefed on the contractors, on top of all the research you had done on your own. You were joining alongside Jack Silva. A family man in real estate. Pushed to fly back overseas for the money to support his family. From all that you had seen, he’s a good guy. He seemed to be good company. It’ll be nice to not be the only strange face, you thought.

You readied yourself. Benghazi is far worse than most believed. Ever since the department even suggested you might be helpful here, you’d been keeping track of the chaos. It was only a matter of time before it erupted into a full-blown civil war.

As the landing zone came into view you checked your hijab, making sure not a hair was out of place. You wore a casual white button-down shirt with a gray tank top underneath. You unfolded the sleeves, covering as much of your skin as possible. Given the heat, you’d love to run out in something a little more breathable, but the beige cargo pants would have to do. Next, you checked your “cello” case that sat in the seat next to you. Moving the strap towards you for a quick and effortless disembark. Being you had its perks, one of which was bringing some of your own firepower.

You cracked your neck as a familiar ding came over the com.

“Welcome to Benghazi.”

The two men settled into the car, watching over all the civilians walking past. Rone leaned forward, pulling a handgun out of the back of his pants. “It’s loaded.” Jack accepted the gun readily, cocking it within his lap.

“How’s the team here?”

“Good. Three ex-marines, one ex-army ranger. It’ll be nice to have some more team guys around.”

Jack briefly glanced back at Rone. “Guys?”

“Yeah. We’re waiting on one more before we head out.”

“You work with him before?”

“Nope. Defense department assigned her.”

Jack furrowed his brow slightly, pursing his lips in surprise. “Alrighty then, what’s she look like?” Jack looked more intently for another westerner standing out like a sore thumb.

“No idea. I’ve been told that she will find us.”

“Oh how ominous.” A smile tugged at the corner of his lip.

Rone hummed in agreement as he eyed the rearview mirror. Out of the crowd, a body began to beeline towards the car. “Think that’s her.”

Jack nonchalantly stretched, turning towards the back of the car to catch a look.

You approached the dust-covered truck, already craving shade from the burning sun. Your sunglasses did little to protect your eyes from the glare off of the ground. As you got closer, you could see Tyrone eying you from the side mirrors. You adjusted the straps of both your cello case and your duffel, making sure not to make any sudden movements. You made your way to the driver’s side door, turning to face him. “You Tyrone?” you asked, knowing full well it was.

“Yes, Ma’am. And you are?”

“Y/N.”

“Nice to meet you, Y/N. Hop in.”

You nodded, moving back towards the rear of the car. Swinging the back door open, you threw your stuff onto the ground next to the seat. Leaving just enough room for you to climb in. As you sat down, you angled yourself towards Jack so that you could have a proper introduction. He noticed your movement, turning back to face you. He reached out his hand for a handshake.

“Jack Silva”

You took his hand. “Y/N.”

He settled back into his seat as Rone started the car. “Just Y/N?”

“Just Y/N.” You affirmed.

As Rone made his way through the city they began to catch up, making friendly jabs at each other. You yanked your duffel towards you, rummaging through the various clothes. You could feel Jack’s eyes peeking at you ever so often through the mirror, making sure you weren’t doing anything unsavory. Trust is earned. Finally, you found your shoulder holster. You unbuttoned your shirt, throwing it on the seat beside you. You put on the holster, adjusting the straps as needed so that it sat comfortably. After you were satisfied you again began to look through your luggage, pulling out two black pistols. You loaded a magazine into both of the guns. The sound quickly drew the attention of both men as the conversation briefly paused before they returned to their conversation. You paid them no mind, knowing that any response would probably make them more antsy. You then cocked them before placing them within your holster. Grabbing your shirt, you put it back on, leaving it unbuttoned. It was opaque enough to conceal your firearms as long as no one looked too close.

“So, Y/N,” Rone directing the conversation towards you, “The Defense Department didn’t tell me much about you. What branch you from?”

You turned from watching out the side of the car. “Covert operations.”

That definitely piqued his interest. Jack let Rone do the questioning, but it was clear he was just as curious as him.

“Alright. SEAL Team?”

“Uh, no. It’s a little more complicated.”

“Oh I get it, you’re on some James Bond shit huh.” He chuckled to himself as you smiled and rolled your eyes.

“Pretty much.”

Rone left the questioning there, knowing he’d probably not get much more of an answer, at least not until you’d come to know him a bit better. The two of them shared a look before the car came to a sudden stop.

“Shit. No, no, no, no, no this isn’t good.” Rone’s body tensed as he assessed the situation.

Civilians began to run around the car, whimpering in fear. You straightened up, readying for a shit show. You positioned yourself in the middle of the back, between the two men so you could see as much as possible through the windshield.

“Fuck.” Rone’s discomfort quickly seeped through his cool resolve. “Who the fuck are these guys?”

“What do we got?” Jack stayed still, his eyes scanning over the various armed men.

“Brigade we coordinate with, February Seventeenth Martyrs. This ain’t them.” He looked back past you and he switched into reverse. Moving back a few feet, the path was blocked and the car jolted forward. “Shit we’re boxed in.”

You settled on your knees, carefully unclipping the straps keeping your guns in place, just in case. Both men leaned out of the window. Jack looking up towards the man on the balcony readied to run.

“We bailing?” He asked, voice calm and collected.

Rone, giving no response, pulled out his radio. “Base this is Rone. Come in, over.”

“This is Base, go Rone.”

“I’m in a Jam off Fifth Ring Road. I’m lookin’ at about 8 armed tangos here.”

“Copy that, sit tight.”

“Sit tight, that’s great advice.” Everyone in the car became increasingly more agitated as the armed militia made its way in your direction.

You took a deep breath. “If we’re bailing we gotta do it now.” You glanced at your bags. You could leave the duffel. There wasn’t anything particularly important in there. The case on the other hand couldn’t be lost to a rampant terrorist cell, if you did, the government would be up your ass about it for at least another 10 years. You fidgeted slightly, knowing that the opportunity to flee was about to pass.

Jack clenched his jaw. “They got a KPV.”

Fuck this is bad.

“Base we ain’t got all day.”

“Hey, Rone. They’re trying to get Feb 17 to back you up, but we’re coming.”

Deeming that transmission utterly useless, Rone whipped out his cell. “Oz I’m in a jam of Fifth Ring.”

“Ty.” Jack interjected as the men became uncomfortably close.

“Rone, 17 Feb QRF is being alerted.”

“Fuck that, the only Quick Reaction force I want is my guys.” Without an immediate response, Rone continued on. “Send them. I want my guys.” He said more adamantly.

“Negative, Rone. Just hang in there.”

“Maybe I’m not making myself clear. I’m looking at multiple radical insurgents with AKs and a 50-cal technical set to blow my rover all the way back to Zimbabwe. Over.”

You watched as a man dressed in a disheveled suit made his way around the vehicles and debris. He’s the big guy.

“It’s not my call, brother.”

Goddamnit. Looks like we’re either talking our way through this, or we go out quick. The thought gave you the slightest bit of comfort.

Rone looked towards Jack frustrated. You could sense he felt an inch of guilt for getting his friend stuck in this hellhole.

“Here we go.” Jack said nonchalantly as he could given the circumstances.

You crossed your arms, giving yourself easy access to your handguns without looking too conspicuous. A man stood at the front of the rover, yelling something you couldn’t understand. He pointed his AK right at you, maybe it wasn’t on purpose but you couldn’t help but mentally scoff. Well, that’s not very nice.

“Welcome to Benghazi.”

The man in front banged on the hood as the leader moved towards the driver’s side window. Jack raised his hands up innocently as Rone smiled at the man.

“Salaam.” Rone raised his badge up to the man in the suit as he gazed at him incredulously. “Libyan visa. Official. Libyan government.” The leader looked him up and down.

The guy with the AK was now in Jack’s face. His gaze shifted forward, doing his best to remain calm despite the barrel of a gun being inches from his forehead.

“Friendly? Hm? Friendly?” Rone again gestured with his badge.

Rone whatever game you’re playing it better fucking work because last time I checked a friend of Al-Qaeda is no friend of ours. You did your best to blend into the back of the car, feigning as the harmless woman.

“Pull over for inspection.” The leader said sternly.

Rone shook his head. “No.”

“Pull over for inspection!” He was now angry, his voice shaking with every word.

Alright, this is how it’s gonna go. You crept your hands slightly closer to your guns.

Rone’s voice remained steady. “I’m sorry, sir. I can’t do that.”

The man at Jack’s door yelled once more. Banging his palm against the dirty surface. Then the slightest movement came from Jack.

It’s showtime. You thought. You gripped your pistols and whipped them forward, pointing them as the secondary soldier positioned at the front of the rover. Jack and Rone acted similarly with Jack’s gun pointed across at the leader, and Rone’s gun pointed at the soldier beside the door. The soldier at the front adjusted his AK, pointing it more fervently towards the car.

“Look up.” Rone pointed towards the sky with his empty hand, never moving his gaze from the leader’s eyes. “Go ahead, look up.” Some of the aggression left the leader as he looked towards the sky, confused. “You see the drone?” The man looked back down. “No? That’s okay. The drone sees you.”

Nice play, Rone. You thought to yourself. A couple of Americans? No problem. We don’t pose that much of a threat. But good ol’ American air support? Now that carries a little weight.

“Sees your face. We know who you are.”

Jack, facing the soldier at his door, swallows hard. Keeping with Rone’s power play, he maintains eye contact.

“If anything happens to us, your home, your family, boom, gone. Give us the order to let us go.”

Jack, looking past the AK in his face, doesn’t flinch as the soldier gestures with his gun.

“I want the car!”

Within a brief moment, Jack and Rone switched their aim, with Jack now pointing his handgun at the soldier and Rone at the leader. You flinched ever so slightly at the movement, but you remained steady, watching for any worrisome movement amongst the militia. Adrenaline pumped through your veins as you could feel your heart pounding in your chest. You ignored the harsh metal of the rover digging into your knees. This was your guys’ only shot to make it out of this cramped alley. They had to think your little caravan of three had the power of the entire U.S. military revolving overhead when in reality, you were just three Americans with a couple of guns in the middle of fuckin nowhere.

“No, I’m not gonna do that.” Jack shakes his head, leaning forward towards the man. The energy around the car was beginning to shift. Despite the KPV having enough firepower to destroy your car, and about 5 cars behind you, you three possessed the upper hand. They recoiled at the barrel of your guns, not the other way around.

The leader’s eyes began to soften, his harsh exterior falling at the thought of losing everything. For a moment, you actually pitied him. “I earn the right to decide the future of my country.” You understood the sentiment behind his words. Once again the U.S. had shoved itself into the center of a country, with no right to do so. But you, and the men sat beside you, just wanted to keep others safe. You had no agenda.

“You’re talking to the wrong guy. How willing are you to die for your country? I’m ready to go right here, right now.” Easy, Tyrone. Don’t push it too far.

The leader’s frown deepened as he considered the weight of Rone’s words. He slowly backed away from the car. “Leave here. While you still can.”

You stopped yourself from relaxing your figure even though it felt like the weight of the world had just been lifted off your shoulders. Rone leaned back into his seat, beginning to maneuver the car between the debris. Jack slowly lowered his pistol to the door as the car inched forward. You followed suit and lowered your guns into your lap. You could hear the leader yelling to his men, and their posture relaxed enough to show they weren’t an immediate threat. Air filled your lungs for the first time in what felt like 5 minutes, before you looked behind through the dusty back window, making sure the leader was true to his word and you weren’t about to get shot in the back. You settled back onto your seat, leaning back against the warm metal. You debated holstering your weapons but decided it was best to have them at the ready until you were within the walls of the base.

“We got air support?” Jack’s voice was calm but demanding. You knew the answer to his question but left Rone to give him the bad news. Rone didn’t take his eyes off of the road as he did his best to make it back to base in one piece.

“We don’t have any fucking support.”

#Tanto x Reader #Tanto/Reader #Tanto x Y/N #13 Hours #Pablo Schreiber #Tanto #Kris Paronto #Kris Paronto x Reader #Kris Paronto/Reader

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randomposterofstuff · 3 years

Text

Soldiers by Choice - Chapter VI

Author's Note: So, real life has been stressing me out immensely. Lol. And I really wanted to post this chapter as soon as I could, so please forgive me for any mistakes and any other problems. Haha. In any case, I hope that you all like it!

Also available on Archive of Our Own. Check my tumblr page to click on the ‘Archive of Our Own’ tab!

Tumblr Chapters List can be found here.

CHAPTER 6: Reasons and Apologies

Summary: Mikasa and Levi encounter troublesome Military Police officers while doing a supply run. Meanwhile, at the Cadet Corps headquarters, Eren Yeager and Jean Kirstein have another confrontation.

Year 847 (5 months later)

---

“Tch. They’re out of bleach.”

Levi glares at the empty row of shelves where jars of commercial bleach usually would be. A few feet away to his left, Mikasa speaks with the shop owner.

“Mr. Gale, I don’t understand. Section Commander Hange told us that you usually have stocks of everything during this time of the month.”

The Titan-scientist and Moblit were on the supply pick-up rotation for the current month. But since they were away on another observation expedition with the Research division, the task had fallen to the two Ackermans.

Mr. Gale, an aging man in his early 50s, clasps his hands apologetically. “I’m sorry, Captain. But due to some issues with our supplier, we won’t have stocks until next month.”

The dark-haired woman sighs at the news. “I see. We will just have to make do with an alternative and the other supplies.”

After a few more words and apologetic gestures from the shop owner, she approaches her co-captain, who is still glowering at the vacant racks.

“They won’t restock until next month.”

His frown deepens. “How the hell are we supposed to properly clean without bleach?”

Mikasa cracks a small smile at his displeasure over the absence of the cleaning agent. In the back of her mind, she muses that even after three years of working together, she still finds his pseudo-obsession with cleanliness to be comical to the point of disbelief.

“We can make our own cleaning formula.” She says. “The store has the necessary ingredients, and the budget is enough to cover them.”

The tautness in his jaw relents at this. “You know how to make bleach?”

She nods. “I do. My mother created her own cleanser. The employees at our estate use it.”

His eyebrows raise in mild surprise. “I didn’t know the Azumabitos also dealt in the cleaning business.” He remarks wryly.

She shifts her eyes from side to side before taking a step closer. "It's a closely guarded family secret." She whispers mock-conspiratorially.

He smirks. “Your secret is safe with me.” He speaks in a similarly hushed tone, and she mirrors his smirk.

---

After perusing the store for the needed ingredients, the two officers help the elderly shop owner place all their purchased supplies in eight wooden crates.

“That’s everything.” Mr. Gale comments as he places the lid on the final crate. “I’ll call my boys to help you load them on your cart.”

“There’s no need for that.” Levi says, already readying himself to lift some of the boxes. “We can handle it.”

The proprietor laughs good-naturedly. "Come now, Captain Levi. I know that you’re ‘Humanity’s Strongest Soldier’ and that Captain Mikasa is the ‘Woman Worth a Hundred Soldiers”, but you can’t rea---”

He cuts himself off when the two Ackermans each lift four boxes with little effort.

Mikasa shifts the crates so that she faces the shop owner properly. "Mr. Gale, you've already received the payment from our budgetary officer, correct?"

The older man merely nods, his mouth still agape in shock at the display of inhuman strength.

“We’ll be on our way, then. Thanks, old man.” Levi states, unfazed by the reaction.

The warm afternoon sun greets them as they exit the shop. The commercial area of Trost is filled with chatter from the mass of patrons. Due to the crowded streets, they had to leave their wagon at a fairly secluded area some ways away from the store.

When they finally arrive at where they parked, the crowd has thinned considerably. The few people there are either entering or exiting the complex. The two are in the process of loading the crates onto the cart when they hear the sound of glass breaking, followed by a frightened yell to their right.

They turn their heads to the source see to see a small saloon. One of its front windows is covered by pull-down drapes, while the other one is unobscured. Through the glass of the second one, the co-captains see a middle-aged man and woman, presumably the owners, anxiously speaking to two Military Police officers.

“Whaddaya mean we have to pay?” An MP with light hair slurs loudly while gripping a long-necked bottle.

The woman, who looks to be in her early 40s, attempts to explain. “Sir, you’ve consumed more than two bottles already.” She says, wringing her hands together nervously. “And our store ---”

“Blah!” The other MP, a man with darker hair, sways as he unslings his rifle from his shoulder. Both the woman and her partner take a step back, visibly terrified. “We serve the kingdom!” He yells. “You lot should be grateful! Besides, your stuff tastes like shit!"

He unsteadily aims his rifle at a row of bottles behind the counter while his companion laughs. “You’re right, Ricky!” He shouts, smashing the bottle he was holding against the floor.

The one called Ricky guffaws. "Damn right, I'm right, George!" Slightly swaying, he disengages the safety lock. “I’ve been wanting to try this beauty out! They say this thing can shoot 15 bullets in a row after just one click!” Just as he is about to place his finger on the trigger, he is suddenly struck across the head. The impact of the attack causes him to drop his weapon.

“Ricky!” George makes to unsling his own rifle but barely has time to react before a heavy boot hits him in the stomach. He faintly registers his gun being snatched from him before he is thrown across the room and roughly crashes onto a table and some chairs. One second later, Ricky lands beside him with a loud thud.

They both groan for a moment before raising their heads and seeing the profiles of two other soldiers in the area where they had been standing before. “Hey!” George yells while unsteadily getting up. “What gives?!” He demands, face flushed with both embarrassment and alcohol. “Who are you anyway?!” He trains his glazed-over beady eyes at their assailants.

Levi narrows his eyes, not the least bit intimidated. “You were harassing innocent civilians.” He crosses his arms, leveling him with a look of disdain. "Taxpayer money is wasted on pigs like you.”

“They’re from the Survey Corps!” Ricky exclaims, pointing to the Wings of Freedom on the fronts of their jackets. “You two have got some nerve!” He glares, eyes glassy with inebriation. “Accusing us of wasting taxpayer money when you ---”

Mikasa quietly raises his rifle at him, causing him to cut himself short. Both MPs freeze at the movement.

“P—put that down and g—give it back!” Ricky demands, voice shaking.

Mikasa shifts her gaze from the anxious Military Police officers and to the firearm in her hands. She examines its long sleek frame and swipes her thumb over the grip.

“It saddens me to see that my father’s guns were used to frighten defenseless civilians.” She comments out loud, her tone a cross between pensive and disappointed.

George’s brows scrunch up in confusion at her statement. “Huh?!” The two MPs look at her dumbly, trying to comprehend the meaning behinds her words.

Meanwhile, Levi picks up the second rifle from the floor, ignoring the whimpers from the two pigs. He feels the gun's weight in his hands and notes that it is light compared to other models. He then places his thumb on the butt of the rifle and runs it over the engraved encircled cursive 'A' which serves as the insignia of Lord Mikhail Ackerman's gun manufacturing company. He muses that the emblem looks similar to the Azumabito clan symbol on the inside of Mikasa’s wrist.

“If it’s any consolation,” he begins, still looking at the rifle, “I think that your father did a great job with this gun, Mikasa.” He remarks almost idly.

“Thanks, Levi.”

“Levi? Mikasa?” George repeats their names, a hint of recognition in their slurred tone. “Mikasa… Mikhail A—“. Shock settles on his features as they finally connect the dots. His eyes further widen in realization when they shift to Levi. “… Ackerman.”

“You’re Levi and Mikasa Ackerman!” George exclaims, lips trembling. At his exclamation, Ricky’s mouth drops open as sweat starts to form on his brow. The two men nervously shift their eyes between the co-captains – panic and recognition clearing away the drink-induced glazes in their eyes.

“I mean, my lord and lady!” George suddenly bows at the waist. His companion scrambles to do the same. “Our apologies! We didn’t recognize you!”

Levi’s jaw clenches at their sycophantic gesture. “Tch. Do not call us those.” He hisses. “And quit your groveling.”

They straighten themselves instantly at the vitriol in his voice. “My lord?” One of them squeaks.

Mikasa takes a sharp breath. “We’re not at the royal court.” She states, an edge to her voice. “Furthermore, we’re acting in our capacities as officers of the Survey Corps. So, if you’re going to address us, do so accordingly.”

“Yes, my la---, I mean, Captain!” The same MP yelps. “We’re sorry!”

Mikasa narrows her eyes, clearly unimpressed. “You’re clearly not genuine.” She speaks coldly. “And it appears that the likes of you get your bravado from carrying my father’s guns. Perhaps I should tell him to terminate his weapons provision contract with the Military Police.”

“Please don’t!” They both plead simultaneously, alarm in their voices. Clearly frightened of the consequences should they be the cause of the loss of the contract. “This won’t happen again!”

The disdain in her dark grey eyes indicates that she is not convinced. “I don’t believe you.” Mikasa then grips that rifle’s ammunition magazine. “So, I’m going to take these.”

Following her lead, Levi makes to do the same with the rifle in his hands. “I’ll take care of this one.”

Once he’s done, Mikasa holds out a hand, and he gives her the second rifle. She throws the weapons at the feet of the two MPs. “Take those and leave.” She commands, voice near imperious. “And don’t forget to put your payment on the counter.”

The two men do as they are told. They wordlessly take the ammo-less rifles and practically empty their wallets onto the counter before leaving the saloon with their heads bowed.

Once they were out of sight, the two Ackermans turn to the shop owners, who had been silently watching the exchange from the sidelines with bated breath.

“We’re not from the Military Police.” Levi states plainly. “But all the same, we’re sorry for the trouble they caused.”

The middle-aged man shakes himself from his daze. “Oh, please! You have nothing to apologize for!” He says, a nervous but sincere smile on his face. “In fact, my wife and I should thank you, my lord and lady!” His eyes then widen at his slip of tongue. “I’m sorry, I mean---”

Mikasa raises her hands in a calming gesture. “It’s alright.” She assures him with a smile.

The man’s tension eases, relieved at her assurance.

“Thank you so much, Captains.” His wife steps forward, wearing a bright and grateful smile. “May we offer you something to eat and drink?”

“Oh, we ---” Mikasa begins, about to politely decline.

“It’s on the house!” The husband insists. “It’s the least that we could do for you! We insist.”

Mikasa observes their smiling and amiable expressions before turning to Levi. She lifts her brows, and he gives a slight shrug before taking out his pocket watch.

“I suppose we have time before we need to get back to headquarters.” He comments.

The shop owners beam at the response. “Wonderful! I’m Tim Briles, by the way, and this is my wife, Frances." Tim introduces himself and his wife. “Please, have a seat. The menu is by the counter. Order anything you want!”

"Sure." Levi replies, and he turns towards the turned-over tables and chairs. “I’ll fix the tables and chairs. I’ll have what you’re having.”

“Noted." Mikasa states as she makes her way to the counter. She peruses the menu and, after a minute of deliberating, settles on a sandwich platter and chamomile tea. She vaguely wonders if the tea selection is meant for customers with hangovers.

After an enthusiastic Frances takes their order, she makes her way to Levi, who has just finished righting the disarray of furniture. As she approaches, her co-captain suddenly pulls out a chair and gestures for her to sit.

Mikasa looks at him questioningly, and he tilts his head towards the offered chair.

She decides to play along. “How very gentlemanly of you.” She jests, voice half-coquettish as she moves to sit.

“Only for you, my lady.” He drawls as he pushes the chair in for her.

They both snicker at the mocking references to their noble backgrounds.

“So, what are we having?” He asks as he sits from across her.

“Tea and sandwiches.” He raised a brow at ‘tea’, and she smiles. "I know; I was also surprised to see it on the menu.”

Levi hums. “In any case, it’s too early for liquor.”

A few minutes pass, and Frances approaches their table with their food and drinks. “Here are your orders. Enjoy!”

The co-captains both thank the female shop owner, and they split the sandwiches and tea between themselves.

Comfortable silence ensues as they eat their sandwiches. Levi muses that the saloon’s turkey sandwich is quite good. He takes a look at the sandwich in Mikasa’s hand and deduces from the green poking out from the bread that it’s full of vegetables.

After he finishes his food and begins stirring his tea, a random realization suddenly occurs to him.

“Something wrong?” Mikasa asks, noticing the contemplative furrow of his brow.

“No.” He replies, taking out the spoon from his cup and gripping it by the rim. “It’s just that I realized you actually used the ‘I’m going to tell my daddy’ card.”

Mikasa blinks at the remark. A beat of silence passes before she bursts into laughter.

Her shoulders slightly shake as hearty chuckles flow from her. She laughs in earnest at the absurdity and the truth of the statement.

Levi’s lips curve upwards at her open display of mirth, observing how her usually stern eyes crinkle at the corners and how genuine joy shines through her typically reserved expression.

“I’m sorry.” Mikasa says, still giggling as she adjusts her cravat around her neck. “You’re right, but it’s just so ridiculous.” She remarks, her smile wide. “Come to think of it, I’ve never used it before.” She muses out loud, her lips still twitching.

“At least you used it for a good cause.” He quips, sharing in her amusement.

She chortles at his joke. He also lets out an amused sound.

She eventually sobers down, though a small smile still remains on her lips.

But after a moment, her eyes suddenly become downcast, and her smile disappears.

Levi frowns in concern at the abrupt change in her demeanor. “What’s wrong?”

She takes a breath before directing her gaze towards the afternoon sky beyond the saloon’s window.

“Moments like this…” she speaks quietly as she raises her hand to gesture at their light-hearted conversation, “…don’t come by often.” A sad gleam then enters her eyes. “In a way, it’s… sort of unsettling.”

Levi’s lips press into a firm line at the reality of her words. Every soldier in the Survey Corps knows that every encounter with the Titans could be their very last. Danger, risk, and bloodshed are their constant companions. And the absences of the comrades lost will always be felt by those who live to join the next expedition.

The survivors know that it is their duty to honor the sacrifices of the fallen by carrying on with their mission. Yet, this knowledge hangs heavy over the heads of those who remain standing.

“I know what you mean.” He says, voice solemn. “Enjoying a moment of peace can be hard sometimes, considering the things we go through.”

They remain quiet for a while, the atmosphere suddenly tenser. Mikasa closes her eyes and sighs before speaking again.

“Sometimes, I wonder what my life would be like right now if I had stayed in the Capital or joined the clan’s Elite Royal Company.” She stares intently into her cup of tea, wistfulness underlying her tone. “I would probably be promenading with the other nobles in the parks. Or patrolling the grounds at the Fritz castle. Either way, my life would be simpler and less daunting."

A flash of resolve then enters her gaze. “But I already made my choice a long time ago.” She declares with a quiet certainty in her words. “And I’ve chosen to be a soldier for the Survey Corps.”

Levi quietly observes her profile. She sits with the graceful posture of a noble lady – a result of her upbringing. But her shoulders are squared with a soldier’s discipline. She holds her teacup delicately, but her fingers are calloused from years of wielding blades. Had she chosen differently, she could have been a socialite hostess.

The passing thought then prompts a question. “Why didyou join the Survey Corps in the first place?”

Mikasa half-smiles at that. It was a question she was often asked – the daughter of a noble joining any of the military branches was unheard of. Although, she never divulged anything apart from saying that she merely wanted to.

“I could ask you the same question, Levi.” She prompts back.

For all his fame, no one has ever known of his reason for joining the Survey Corps. Not surprising, since he would always brush off anyone who asks by telling them that it’s none of their damn business.

But Levi decides that he wouldn’t mind making an exception for her. “I’ll share if you share.”

Mikasa hums as if contemplating the proposition. “Fair enough.”

A moment passes before she continues. “I joined because of my Asian heritage.”

He raises a brow in confusion. But stays silent and waits for her to elaborate.

“The Azumabitos are the last Asians in the world.” She explains. “Our clan’s records state that our ancestors’ homeland, Asia, was full of rare creatures and mysterious fauna. Unfortunately, just like every other continent, it was invaded along with the rest of humanity by the Titans.”

“My parents gave me everything I needed while growing up. But they taught me that if I wanted something, then I should work to earn it.” Mikasa pauses as her lips twist wryly. “And since I wanted to see the roots of my Asian heritage, I decided as a child that I would join the Survey Corps to help eradicate the Titans.”

“It’s silly.” She remarks, more to herself, amused at her younger self’s reason. “But it’s what prompted me to enlist.”

Her expression then becomes more pensive, and she redirects her gaze to the table between them. “But after my first expedition, I realized that there are things which are bigger than my wants. I suppose you could say that it opened my eyes. Seeing first-hand the dangers and struggles made me understand the weight of the Corps’ mission.”

She looks up at him again. “I still want to see Asia…” she admits with a bashful look. “… and if we can eradicate the Titans during my lifetime, then I’ll be to do that.”

“But even if that won’t happen, I won’t have any regrets about joining the Survey Corps.”

With that, she concludes her piece. Levi remains quiet for a moment, feeling astounded and moved at the revelation.

“I’m glad that you joined, Mikasa.” He says softly.

She smiles at his remark. “Thank you for saying that.” A tinge of levity then enters her dark orbs. “Now, I believe it’s your turn to share.”

Levi tsks, but there’s mirth in the slight quirk of his mouth. “I suppose a deal’s a deal.”

He swirls the contents of his teacup before speaking. “When I was a kid, my great grandfather would always preach about upholding the clan’s tradition of being the Crown’s ‘Sword and Shield’.” He drawls out the last two words.

“Just like you and everyone else in our clan, I was trained to be the best fighter possible – because, of course, the royal family only expects the best to protect it.” He pauses to take a drink.

“Sure, it’s natural for the royal family to have protection.” He concedes. “But our clan’s talents are being wasted. The biggest threats are out there beyond the Walls, and our clansmen use their many years of special training to deal with problems that the Military Police pigs are supposed to handle.”

Levi lifts his gaze to hers. "So, I said to myself, ‘to hell with tradition’.”

She lets out a small laugh. “Of course, you would say something like that.”

He smirks before taking another sip. “So, I decided to enlist in the Survey Corps. Thankfully, my uncle became head of the clan even before my rite of passage. And since he isn’t as uptight and prissy as my great grandfather was, he let me go without much of a fuss. I wanted to put my skills to better use. And what better way to use them than to reclaim the lands stolen by the Titans from humanity?”

“And after everything I’ve seen…” he trails off, a more somber and pensive look in his eyes as he stares at his cup, “…I’m now surer than ever that I made the right choice.”

A quiet second passes before Mikasa speaks. “That’s very noble of you.” She says, her voice earnest.

Her co-captain snorts out a harsh laugh. “If it were anyone else, I’d say that they were kissing my ass.”

Remembering the incident with the two MPs earlier, she likewise smiles in good humor; his words can’t be any truer.

“But since it’s you…” his harsh smirk morphs into a gentler smile, “… thanks.”

Her smile remains as their eyes meet again.

“You know, it’s odd…” she begins off-handedly, “We’ve known each other for years, but this is the first time we talked about something like this.”

He raises a brow. “Is it? I wasn’t aware that there was a standard timeline for sharing things.”

Another light laugh escapes her, and Mikasa wonders if Levi realizes how humorous he can be at times.

---

Chatter fills the air of the communal dining hall of the Southern Division’s Cadet Corps Headquarters – with the main source of noise and talk being the long dining table where Eren Yeager sits with his friends.

“Eren, what you did was really cool!”

“Yeah, I don’t think that anyone else here would’ve been able to do that!”

From his seat at another table at the far right of the hall, Jean Kirstein watches as several trainees crowd around Yeager and pay him compliments for his incredible feat earlier this morning.

Connie sits across the green-eyed recruit with a wide grin on his face. “Eren, you were amazing earlier!” He exclaims. “Being able to balance yourself using defective equipment was incredible!”

Beside him, Sasha nods enthusiastically as she munches on a loaf of bread. She smiles broadly after gulping down her food. "You really did well, all things considered!" She exclaims while not so discreetly trying to take Connie's bread from his plate.

The shaved-headed boy snatches her wrist before she could lift the loaf to her mouth. “Oh, come on! You haven’t even finished your own bread!” He grumbles, exasperated as Sasha strains against his grip.

Eren chuckles at the display before scratching the back of his head with a sheepish expression. Even so, his green eyes seem to glow with pride and appreciation. “Thanks, guys.”

“Congratulations on a job well done, Eren.” Christa speaks from amongst the group that congregated around the table. “Your determination paid off.”

Eren's cheeks redden slightly at her smile. "Thanks, Christa. But I can't take all of the credit. Armin here gave me pointers, and Reiner and Betholdt told me to keep calm and not to give up." He then turns to the male blonde seated next to him. "Isn't that right, buddy?"

Armin’s lips quirk upwards. “It’s true that you got help, but all the work was you.”

“Armin’s right.” Reiner’s deep voice resounds from one side of the crowd. To his left, Bertholdt silently watches the interactions with a small smile. “At the end of the day, you were the one ultimately responsible for your success.”

Jean watches as more trainees give the brunette praises for his resolve and performance. It isn’t until he feels something nudge him in the side that he turns away.

“Just talk to him already.” Marco urges with a knowing look.

Jean scoffs at the comment. “Talk to Yeager? About what?”

Marco simply gives him a half-amused and half-exasperated smile. “You know what I mean.” He then picks up his glass of water. “It’s good that you want to apologize. It’s a mature thing to do.” He says before taking a drink.

Jean grumbles something unintelligible as he observes the sky through an open window. The last rays of sunlight are starting to fade behind the darkening sky. He can see some of their Commandant's assistant officers patrolling the grounds and inspecting the outdoor training equipment to ensure they're still working properly.

As his gaze lands on the row of 3DM gear simulators, Jean recalls how he, along with nearly everyone, laughed at Eren when he failed to steady himself using 3DM gear during his first attempt. He also remembers snidely commenting that Yeager was just "all talk and no bite" and how he brushed him off when he asked for pointers to improve.

Jean then sighs before getting up and walking over to the green-eyed recruit’s table.

---

Armin and Eren were in the middle of speaking with fellow recruits when the blonde sees Jean walking up to their table.

“Uhh… Eren?” He taps his friend on the shoulder.

At the prodding, Eren turns away from Mina and Thomas, who were standing behind him. His eyes narrow at the sight of Jean standing behind the other recruits surrounding their table. “What do you want, horse face?”

The entire room goes silent as everyone turns to Jean. The man in question averts his gaze as his cheeks flush at suddenly being the center of attention.

He stays silent for a moment before speaking. “I’m not here to fight.” He then finally raises his gaze to look at Eren. The crowd parts as he moves closer to the table.

Armin notes the sudden tension in the air as his childhood best friend stares at Jean with a cautious look – he deduces that Eren is not entirely convinced that Kirstein came in peace.

Jean halts when he’s near the edge of their table, just a couple of feet from where Eren sits. He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath.

“I’ll be honest. I still think that going after Titans is stupidly dangerous.”

Eren's eyes further narrow at the remark. He rises to his feet, but Armin pulls at his arm before he can move towards Jean. "Hear him out first.” The blonde half-pleads.

Eren frowns but nonetheless sits back down. His eyes are still trained on Kirstein, who instinctively took a step back at his abrupt movement.

Jean takes another breath before continuing. “But I now get how serious you are.” He admits, voice quiet but clear. “You have real resolve, and I respect that. And I’m…” He pauses, his pride momentarily stifling his next words.

“… I’m sorry for making fun of you before.”

Some trainees gasp lightly while some simply stare – all surprised at his gesture. Armin sees that even Connie and Sasha have paused their food-related grappling to gawk at Jean. The blonde also quietly muses that the entire room probably half-expected another fight to erupt between the two boys. All eyes are now trained on Eren, who looks astounded with his eyes widened and mouth slightly agape.

Armin then lightly nudges his friend’s shoulder. “Well, aren’t you going to say anything?”

The question shakes the green-eyed trainee from his stupor. He blinks once before rising to stand – more calmly, Armin notes approvingly.

“Thanks, Jean.” The hardened look in his gaze is now gone. “I appreciate you saying that. Apology accepted.” He says with a small smile.

“And for what it’s worth…” Eren trails off as his eyes dart downwards, a hint of shame in them, “… I shouldn’t have scoffed at you for wanting to go into the Interior. After all, there’s nothing wrong with wanting to be safe.”

He then looks directly at Jean again. “So, I guess I also owe you an apology.” He admits with a half-smile, hoping that it would lighten the mood.

It seems to have worked as Kirstein offers him a smile. “Glad to know that you can see things my way, Yeager.”

Eren grins more naturally at the response. “So… friends?” He asks, voice tentative as he holds out his hand.

Jean looks at the offered hand in surprise for a moment before observing the other boy’s expression. There’s a mix of uncertainty and apprehension in his countenance – possibly wary of how he would respond. But the look in Yeager’s eyes tells him that the offer of friendship is genuine.

He eventually grasps the hand offered to him. “Friends.” He says while giving it a firm shake.

There’s a smattering of applause as the crowd gives a slight cheer at the show of camaraderie. Armin especially claps heartily at the sight of the usually hot-headed Eren making peace with Jean even as he hears Connie yelp when Sasha takes advantage of the distraction to take a massive bite from the Springer boy’s loaf.

“Well, it’s nice that we’re all finally getting along.” Marco comments with a smile from the sidelines, hands still pressed together from clapping.

Jean sends a slightly annoyed look at Marco, who only continues to smile in return.

---

End Note: So, the 104th gang finally appears! Since Mikasa is a veteran in this story, I wanted to play a little with the dynamics of the 104th's relationships with one another. On this, I wanted Eren and Jean to have a friendlier relationship in this story than in canon. I hope that I was able to execute this idea (as well as all my other ideas) properly. Lol.

In any case, let me know what you think! Critiques and comments are most welcome!

#rivamika #levimika #levi x mikasa

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